#i don't even care what they do just make it happen
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jennydolfen · 2 days ago
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"Why? Why do you care?"
"Because I do," she said, cocking her head. "I watched you, you know. Back in that army. You'd always find the young, untrained men and protect them, even though it put you into danger. I can remember. Just barely, but I do." Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings
Holy moly, thank you for the incredible welcome to this fandom! This has literally never happened to me, anytime, anywhere, and I'm completely floored.
Even though I'm barely a third into the first book, this is what makes this book (and this character) so special. Even though the world is a rotten place, you can always try to lift up yourself, and lift up the people around you. ... and no matter how bad your situation is, Kaladin's was worse.
And boy, can Sanderson write dialogue.
I've now downloaded the Kindle version of the book too, so I can bloody read up the scenes I want to draw, and don't miss half of the details. That Syl should have just one leaf, that the leaves were described differently, that there should be rain and storm. And I can look up quotes. I miss so much when I don't see words. O_o Hope the next ones will get easier.
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keferon · 11 hours ago
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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Part one
Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.
Under the cut⤵️
Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?
Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?
For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.
Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.
It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.
Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.
His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!
But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.
Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.
He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.
Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.
Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.
He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.
So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.
That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?
Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...
His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.
Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?
Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.
Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.
It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!
People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.
In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.
He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.
Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.
Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..
He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.
Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.
In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.
Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.
Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.
But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.
Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.
Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.
Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.
Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.
Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.
Uggh.
The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.
Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.
When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.
When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.
The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??
Freaking cursed.
Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.
One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???
Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.
It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.
If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--
He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?
He's going to get sick.
He needs to talk to Jazz right now.
____________
Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.
They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).
“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”
Jazz frowns
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.
“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”
Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.
“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”
Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.
“Mech, what the hell?”
“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.
Before thinking for a bit, and adding.
“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”
And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.
This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.
Prowl looks confused.
Jazz looks absolutely frantic.
“SWERVE????”
Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?
Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.
Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.
“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."
Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.
“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”
There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.
“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”
Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.
Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?
“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”
He pauses dramatically.
“The long version is...”
Jazz raises his hand
“What's a holoform?”
Swerve sighs.
“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”
Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl
“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“
Prowl hums
“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”
Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.
“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”
Jazz laughs
“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”
“ I was.”
Prowl frowns.
“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”
“.... I had a lot of practice...”
Jazz claps his hands.
“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”
“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.
Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused
“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”
“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”
“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.
Swerve blows the hair out of his face
“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”
Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.
“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”
Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets
“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”
Prowl twitches his door wings
“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”
Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.
He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.
He's thinking.
Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!
Then he remembers the mess he left behind.
Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.
Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”
“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”
Jazz looks...puzzled.
“Is that bad?”
Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...
“It's...complicated.”
This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...
And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...
Hahahahah oh fUCK.
He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.
It's also probably too late.
But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.
And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.
Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face
“ That expression you have...”
Swerve puts the smile back on his face.
“I need to get to Earth.”
___________________
Swerve is not an idiot.
Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.
He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.
Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.
The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.
He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....
Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.
“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”
Swerve laughs.
“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”
“It's not harmful?”
Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.
“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”
Jazz tilts his head
“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”
Swerve bites his knuckles.
“ I have some unfinished business?”
“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”
Swerve only laughs in response.
_______________
Concentration is tricky.
Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?
Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost
Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.
What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.
He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.
The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.
After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.
He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--
Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.
This is the place where he was last.
He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.
Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.
Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.
Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.
All right.
He's got things to do.
_______________
He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?
He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.
He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.
Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.
All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...
He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?
The answer is probably none.
Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.
A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.
Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.
Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.
Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.
Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.
It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.
He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.
It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.
Blurr's name isn't there.
So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.
He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.
That's...something's wrong.
He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”
Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.
“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?
Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.
Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”
This is it, Swerve thinks.
He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.
He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.
He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.
Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi
Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.
Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.
Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.
Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.
Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.
“'Got bored without me Swindle?”
Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.
“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”
Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.
“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”
Swindle adjusts his glasses
“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”
“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.
Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”
He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.
Goes back to his seat.
“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”
He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.
“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”
Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again
“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”
Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.
“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?
Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose
“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”
Blurr blinks.
“Why are you telling me all this.”
Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.
“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”
Blurr's eye widens
“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”
“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”
Blurr runs his fingers through his hair
“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”
Swindle puts his hat back on.
“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”
The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.
Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”
They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.
“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”
Blurr smiles sourly.
“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”
Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.
“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”
Blurr bites his lip.
“I..don’t know...”
Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.
Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.
Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.
The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.
The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.
Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.
Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.
Ah, damn it.
Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.
And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.
Blurr ... is crumbling.
Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.
But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.
He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.
And continues to act like a jerk of course.
The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.
Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.
When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.
Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.
It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.
It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.
Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”
Investors say, “I think he likes me.”
Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”
Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.
Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.
On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.
Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.
Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.
Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.
Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.
But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.
It makes a difference. Small one. But still.
It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.
From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”
More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?
There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.
While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.
After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.
“Good show.”
Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.
“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”
Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.
Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.
“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”
Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.
“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”
Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.
“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”
Blurr freezes.
No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't
“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”
Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”
Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.
Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.
“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”
Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.
“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”
Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.
“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”
He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.
“You are broken. I can fix you.”
Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.
“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”
Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.
“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”
Blurr flinches.
“I don't need your help.”
“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”
...
“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”
Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.
____________________________
Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.
Holy shit...
Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm
“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”
“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”
Jazz laughs
“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”
Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.
“Ah...”
“So it worked?”
“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”
Jazz rubs his hands together happily.
“I'll take it.”
Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.
He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.
He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.
Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.
Left to himself.
He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.
....
Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?
He looks at Jazz and Prowl.
“You two get along really well.”
Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.
“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”
Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.
On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.
_____________________
”Are you a ghost?”
Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.
He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?
“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”
Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.
Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.
“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”
Blurr squints amusedly.
“You can walk through walls?”
“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”
He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.
“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.
Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.
“ Show me more?”
“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”
“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”
Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.
Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.
“They really drugged you huh?”
“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”
He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair
“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”
Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.
"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?
Race???”
He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???
Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket
“I won't.”
He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.
“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”
Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.
“Well...at least you're alive....”
Blurr shakes his head.
“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”
“...”
“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”
Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.
Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.
“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”
Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.
“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”
“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”
Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...
Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.
“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”
“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”
Swerve stiffens.
“I...Wwhat?”
“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”
He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues
“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”
Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.
Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.
“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”
“You'll tell me later?”
Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.
“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”
---------------
Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.
“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”
Swerve snorts.
“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”
“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”
Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.
“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”
Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.
“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.
Swerve laughs.
“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”
_______________
His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.
He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.
They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.
Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.
Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.
Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.
Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake
“Mind some company?”
Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.
“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”
Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.
“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”
Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly
“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”
“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”
Pharma tilts his head
“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”
Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.
“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”
“What do you mea...”
“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.
“No I'm just...”
“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”
“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”
Swerve shakes his head.
“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”
“Wh..”
Blurr rolls his eye.
“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”
“Wait..”
“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”
Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.
“Can at least one of you shut up??”
Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner
“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”
He raises his eyebrows knowingly
“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”
Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.
“…..Wha....there's rumors?”
“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”
He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself
“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”
Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.
“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma
Swerve shrugs.
“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”
Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.
A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.
“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”
Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.
“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”
Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.
Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.
Then he reaches out his hand to him.
Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.
Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.
Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.
Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....
“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”
Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.
“You're real???”
Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him
“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”
Blurr shrugs.
“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”
Swerve twitches.
“Third??? How are you still standing???”
He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.
“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”
Blurr laughs quietly.
“I'm glad you're back.”
_____________________
He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.
When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.
“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”
“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”
Jazz smiles
“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”
“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”
“Worried about what your human friends will think?”
Swerve swings back and forth on his heels
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”
Jazz frowns
“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”
“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”
287 notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 22 hours ago
Text
A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death
summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things
content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment
word count : 6.1k
author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap
proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3
masterlist : here
taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt
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You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.
She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.
She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.
When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."
You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.
You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 
"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."
Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.
"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."
She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.
"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."
You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.
You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.
Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?
What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?
You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.
"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."
Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.
She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."
"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."
She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."
"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.
And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"
You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."
"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."
You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.
"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."
She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 
"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."
"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.
"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."
"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."
She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"
You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."
She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."
You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 
It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.
"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.
During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.
When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.
You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.
You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.
"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.
"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."
You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.
"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."
"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.
Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.
"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"
"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.
"How do you think Viktor handles her?"
"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."
You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.
"Who's a handicap?"
Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.
"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."
But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.
"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."
He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.
Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.
Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 
He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."
"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."
However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.
"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"
You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 
"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."
"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.
"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."
But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.
He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"
I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.
"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.
"Stop this." His tone was firm.
"Stop what?" you questioned.
"Trying to make something funny out of this."
You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"
"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"
His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?
You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.
"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."
It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.
His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.
"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.
"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."
"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."
Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...
"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."
He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.
"You're still on the treatment, right?"
The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.
You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.
Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.
"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.
"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."
He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.
"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"
The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.
"You know why."
"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.
"Because I don't want to be your rival."
You found this answer profoundly absurd.
"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.
"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"
Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.
"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."
He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.
"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."
The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.
"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"
He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?
When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.
"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.
He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.
"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.
He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."
Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.
You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.
There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.
You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.
"When were you his assistant?"
He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.
"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"
How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.
The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.
"Yes."
"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."
You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.
"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.
He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.
You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.
However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.
"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.
Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."
What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.
"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."
You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?
Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?
You took half a step towards him.
"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"
His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.
"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.
"Find some, and I'll consider them."
And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 
You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.
But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.
"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."
"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"
You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.
After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.
When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.
"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.
You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."
You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.
Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.
“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”
You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”
She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”
“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”
So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.
“Just like this one.”
You showed Sky the card: Death.
She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.
“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”
“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.
“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”
You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”
Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 
“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”
Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.
Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.
You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.
You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.
You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.
You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.
Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.
My sweet friend,
I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.
You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.
I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.
You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.
In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.
I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,
Eris.
What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?
You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.
“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.
You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.
“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”
“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.
“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”
She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.
As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?
The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.
Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.
You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.
What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?
“Look who it is!”
That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.
Tyler.
You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.
“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”
He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”
It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 
“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”
But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.
First place.
You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 
Viktor.
Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.
“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”
You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.
“You fight well, Miss.”
You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.
“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”
You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.
Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”
You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”
He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 
He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.
“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.
“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 
Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.
“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.
Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.
“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”
“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.
“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”
“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.
He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”
“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”
The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”
“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.
“I thought you two could... go together?”
You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.
“You're joking, right?” you asked.
“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”
“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”
"Tomorrow night."
“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”
He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.
“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”
“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”
“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”
You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?
“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.
You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.
“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.
“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”
He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."
“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 
“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”
“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.
He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”
You nodded, leaving the room.
You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 
But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.
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kirislovelygf · 1 day ago
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self-care night (sevika x fem! reader)
contents: after the battle and after losing jinx and isha, you take it upon yourself to take care of sevika, giving her a much needed quiet night. total fluff, you and sevika are married, post seaosn 2 finale, sevika is finally taken care of like she deserves <3
wrd count: 1.6k
a few mornings ago, sevika had her first day on the job as a councilwoman. 
caitlyn gave up her seat on the council to give sevika the opportunity to speak up for zaun. 
she came home that evening angry as anything. the other councilpeople acted like she didn't even exist. 
and when she was able to speak up, her requests went in one ear and out the other. 
when she received the opportunity to have a seat on the council, we were thrilled. but after that day, she's been trying hard not to blow up on everyone and confirm their suspicions of what would happen with a zaunite on the council. 
tonight, i made her a warm and filling meal and set up the bathroom with candles and pleasant soaps so she can take a relaxing bath. 
i was sitting on the couch reading a book when she came home. 
she closes the door and looks up at me. "hi." she mutters. 
"hey. another long day?" i ask her gently. 
"tch.. you tell me." she joked. she sat down at the kitchen table that was just beside the front door to yank her boots off her feet. 
i close my book and placed it aside before walking over to her. as she struggled to untie the laces of her boots, i cupped her face so she could look up at me. 
"sorry, honey." i muttered before i kissed her. "at least you get the weekend off." i said as i looked at her face. she smiled gently before i crouched to untie the laces of her boots. 
"hey, i was doing that." she chuckled as i threw them on the doormat. "i'm not helpless." 
"just let me take care of you." i smiled. i look at her once more. "why don't you wash up for dinner. i was able to make your favorite tonight." i said to her as i stepped away to check on the food on the stove. 
i hear her come up beside me and take a look at the food that's simmering. 
"damn.. all this for just us?" she said. 
"yeah. i know you skipped out on lunch, so you must be starving." i said as i stirred the meat on the saucepan. 
"how'd you know i skipped lunch?" she asks me. i looked up at her. "i always do. now, go. wash your hands." she laughs softly before washing her hands in the sink. 
i quickly plate everything for her and place ehr food at the table just as she sits down. once i set everything down, i went to plate my own food. 
i turned to go sit down and i saw she hadn't touched anything in front of her. didn’t even move to pick up her fork. "what are you waiting for? eat." i chuckled. 
"i'm waiting for you, dummy." she chuckled, picking up her fork. i smiled at her as i settled into my seat. 
dinner was quiet but nice. i left music playing on the radio as i watched her enjoy her meal like she hasn't had one in forever. 
"this is.. amazing, honey. shit, i was starving." she said after slamming her cup of water down. i chuckled lightly. 
"i can tell." she smiles softly at me. after she got some food in her system, she talked to me about her stressful day as she waited for me to finish my meal. 
"they don't know.. anything about what life is like down here. hell, half of them think we've grown up in sewer pipes." she said quickly. 
"they cannot be serious." i shook my head lightly. "you would think they're stupid at first glance." she jokes. 
"maybe once they have someone with common sense on the council, they'll make better decisions." 
"yeah.. it's gonna take a while though." she hums. i watch her soft expression that is rarely ever seen. i love my wife. 
after washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen, i went nad ran the bath for her while she was occupied in our room, cleaning her mechanical arm. 
once i lit the last candle and turned off the lights, i went to our room to see her at her desk tinkering with the screws and nooks and crannies of her arm. 
"hey, vika?" i said softly. 
"hm?" she looks up at me from her device. "i ran you a bath. come on." i muttered
she smirks over her shoulder. "oh yeah?" 
"don't be gross. it's not like that." i chuckled. 
"oh.. damn.." she grumbled. "come on." i laugh. she follows me to the bathroom and i stand, leaning on the doorway
"you can stay there for however long you want. just relax, alright?" 
"whoa.." she gasped lightly at the acne in the bathroom. 
she looks down at me. "i- you didn't have to do all this." she hummed. 
i shrugged. "you're right. but i wanted to." 
she smiles. she wraps her arm around me while i do the same with both of mine. 
"i don't deserve you. seriously." she hummed after planting a kiss on my head. 
"yeah, you do." i said softly. 
i sat in our room while sevika took her bath. as i was flipping through the pages of my book, i remembered i had gone out and bought a scrub. at a shop up on topside, so it's bound to be good. 
i found it and went to the bathroom to give it to her. i knocked before walking into the dimly lit bathroom. she was sitting in the bath with her hair guarding her eyes from being seen at the side. 
"i bought this scrub today and thought you might like it." i said softly. “you did? why?” 
i sat on my knees as i unscrewed the top of the bottle. “it reminded me of you. here, smell." i said to her. 
i held it up to her nose and she took a quick whiff before humming. "it's nice.. like pine." she said. 
she went to grab it but i pulled it away. "let me." i said. 
"come on, honey. i can clean myself just fine." she chuckled softly. "no one's saying you can't. i just wanna do it for you." 
i look at her eyes before moving her strands aside. "you can't get your back anyway." i said. 
she rolled her eyes. "alright.." she hummed. i got up to find a stool and sat on it as i took a seat beside the tub, sitting behind her. 
the smell of snowy pine trees quickly invaded our noses as i massaged the scrub into her scarred back. 
looking at her muscles and scars, i imagined what it must be like to be her. to experience her life. 
her mother died at birth, father died even later. no siblings to mourn with her.
a best friend turned boss. now dead also.  
two young girls that were like her daughters, dead too. 
i feel like if i followed that same fate, she would end up offing herself. 
so much loss in her life. and she still stood strong every day without fail. 
"why are you doing all this?" she spoke up quietly. 
"hm?" i said as i rinsed off the soap crystals. 
"the dinner... the bath, everything you did tonight." she said. 
"i'm your wife, vika. it's what i enjoy doing." i said softly. 
there was a beat of silence. 
"it feels strange being taken care of like this. " she admitted. 
i poured water over her back again, watching the tiny crystals fall into the water. 
“i know..” i said softly. 
she shifts in the water, bringing her knees up to her chest. 
"sevika, you've devoted your entire life to bringing justice to our people. i've watched you take care of others, put their lives over your own.." i said, glancing over at her scarred stub that used to carry her left arm. 
i gently massaged the scrub over it, letting the scent sink into her skin. 
"it's like that's all you know how to do." i hummed. 
"after a while, you forget how to do anything else." she said quietly. 
"that's why i want to take care of you. while you learn how to pick yourself up again." i said, pouring water over her shoulder.
i��ve reminded her of this since we first got married. while she tells me she believes me, sometimes it slips. 
“you know, people look at you and see a terrifying old woman who can kill them with just a look.. and you are.” i said, to which she laughed softly. 
“but when i look in your eyes. when you hug me in the night when ere sleeping, all i see is a sweet girl who’s in need of love. and i want to give it to her.”
“so, while you're out there looking after the lanes… i’ll be here at the end of every day to take care of you.” i said. 
i rinse off the last of the soap from her shoulders and leaned back slightly. 
“okay?” 
she’s quiet for a second but turns her head slightly. “yeah.. okay.” she hums. 
i moved from my seat and sat next to her. i reached out to her chin and turned her head slightly to kiss her cheek. “i love you, you old softie.” i muttered. 
she looks at me with tears welling up in her eyes. 
“i love you. so much.” she said quietly. 
i held her face in my palm as i scanned her face before i kissed her lips. i pull away from her and smile softly. “you finish up here, alright?” 
i left her int he bathroom and waited for her in our bed. 
it was slightly cold, i just put on the freshly washed sheets, a new fuzzy blanket, and lit a candle that made the room smell like sugar cookies. 
she was dead asleep in seconds. 
a/n: i need to put sevika in my pocket, i love her and she deserves the world.
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loveemagicpeace · 2 days ago
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🧚🏼‍♀️Astro Notes🧸
Sagittarius love holidays and are very enthusiastic about them. They like things related to fun, etc. They can also be very traditional when they believe in something. More or less their traditions come from their beliefs, but they are very open to new things.
When Leo Sun people do something they will always be like "look what I did", they want you to notice their work and effort. They are always very proud of what they do and present their work with pride. The proudest people will always be them.
Sagittarius mars - living for the moments- They will make the most of every moment and can quickly forget about their worries and just surrender to the moment. Mars in leo living for the fun, romance, pleasure, playfulness. Mars in aries living for danger, excitement. They can quickly forget the needs of others and focus on their own needs.
It is very important what aspects you have with the planet. For ex.: mars in sagittarius with trine saturn makes you very serious when it comes to intimacy, sex, and the affection of another person. Usually, for you, intimacy represents responsibility and seriousness. Even tho I do think that mars in sagittarius people are not unstable or too free. They can be very fiery and devoted to another person. Very quick to respond and driven when they really want someone. If the person match their energy , they will be very into this person. Because they're looking for someone they can connect with. They usually want the same level of energy.
Mars in Taurus is secretly possessive. Many times they appear more stable than they actually are. When it comes to their needs they are very stubborn and will also stubbornly pursue something if they really want it. Once someone fulfills their needs they become very attached to that person and find it difficult to let go of the fact that that person is no longer there. They like stable sexual partners. They have a hard time getting used to a different energy and another person's body when they are used to one (they don't like to change).
I am not a fan of venus in cancer but i think someone who has venus in cancer & mars in taurus can be very nurturing and caring person. They can give you a lot of love and are very attentive. They give love unconditionally.
Cancer moon -They are very caring and emotional. They give a lot, especially when people mean a lot to them. They will always care about the person and their needs. Their love runs very deep. A very sacrificial moon. A very intuitive moon, if a cancer moon tells you something - you should always listen, because they are always right.
People with a placements of Pisces and libra are often hopeless romantics. Many times they fall in love with the wrong people and too quickly. They often idealize people and the love they have for them. They believe in love at first sight and it often happens to them. But the love they need is the opposite of that. The love they should have found is the love they didn't look for, but it came in a completely different form than they imagined. True love will be when they build love with a person, which will come over time and through a difficult period. A love in which they will be realistic.
Capricorn in your chart shows where you are realistic, strong and go through the most challenges.
Your moon is your safe place and also the emotions you crave the most. When someone embody your moon sign for you, this is like a person emitting energy that you need. Thats why you can be much more attached to such people. You can get emotionally attached to someone who gives off your moon energy more quickly than someone who gives off your Venus energy for example.
Fire & earth mars are more connected to their physical body. There are also more into a physical touch. So when it comes to passion and intimacy and this type of stuff. They want a real touch. Both of them are also very active oriented signs. Fire mars in generals are very into actions and doing things. And also the earth mars but they are a little bit more slow when it comes to actions, because they are more focused into long term things.
When it comes to intimacy fire & earth are best together cuz both of them are focused on body. Air & water are more mental.
The sign of Gemini rules the shoulders, arms, hands, and lungs. Natives of this sign are noted for their graceful arms and beautifully shaped hands.
Aries rules the head and face. You can often spot an Aries person by his or her fine facial bone structure and a shining, healthy head of hair.
The sign of Taurus rules the throat and neck, which includes the vocal cords, palate, and tonsils. Generally, Taureans have long, expressive necks, and women of this sign have lovely skin around the throat and collarbone area.
Cancer women often have beautiful bosoms, with soft creamy skin and a curving decolletage. Men of this sign have well-shaped chests and flat stomachs.
The sign of Leo rules the spine, the back, and the heart. The heart is associated with warm emotions, the back with courage.
The sign of Virgo rules the nervous system and the intestines. The intestines assimilate food into the body. By the same token, Virgoans assimilate knowledge and turn it into practical use. They have delicate and finely tuned nervous systems, which makes them intuitive and discriminating.
The sign of Libra rules the kidneys, lumbar region (which includes the lower spine and back), and the buttocks. Libra women tend to have graceful lower spines and curvaceous buttocks, and Libra men have well-shaped, muscular backs
The sign of Scorpio rules the sexual organs. Symbolically, this part of the anatomy represents lifegiving force, and Scorpio people are renowned for their fund of energy and imagination. They have a reputation for being highly sexed, passionate, and possessive, the kind who do nothing halfway.
The sign of Sagittarius rules the hips, the thighs, and the liver. In human anatomy the hips and thighs represent locomotion and volition, and it should not be surprising that most Sagittarians are active people who love freedom, fresh air, sunshine, and the great outdoors.
The sign of Capricorn rules the bones, joints, knees, and teeth. Capricorns are known for their beautiful bone structure and stately carriage. Capricorn women often have a striking angular beauty, especially in their facial bones, which makes them very photogenic. Both men and women have strong constitutions, vigorous and enduring, capable of withstanding stress and illness.
The sign of Aquarius rules the circulatory system and the shins, calves, and ankles. The lower leg represents active locomotion, and Aquarius people are characterized as progressive and forward-thinking.
The sign of Pisces rules the feet and toes and the mucous membranes. Pisceans are noted for their graceful, well-shaped feet, and many become excellent dancers .
-Rebekah🌌🧜🏼‍♀️🪐
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iid-smile · 2 days ago
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★ — usage
content — nagi seishiro x fem!reader, continuation from this post, hurt no comfort, angst, nagi is a piece of s###, like he's bad, nagi insults the reader quite a bit, some profanity, break up
wc — 1.5k
a/n — this is kinda rushed oopsies 🙈 also these a little surprise at the end !
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two hours have passed. two hours of hearing nagi's stupid nintendo 3ds, two hours of hearing those same stupid theme songs over and over, and two hours of dread continuously pouring into your heart.
you've tried sniffling to get his attention. nothing. not even a glance to see if you're crying or not. you've tried getting up and going into another room. the sound of shuffling makes you think he's getting up to check on you, only to realise that he's turned from one side to the other on the bedsheets. call it toxic to fake your emotions, but it's way worse to not care whatsoever about what your partner is feeling.
all you needed to do was talk, right? and then this would be over. you'd get over it, and things would go back to normal.
but what can you say? what could you say without tearing up midway through? you could bring up today, or yesterday, or what's happened months ago, if you really wanted to. there's only been one thing repeating in your mind over and over, and that's what he's said two hours ago.
"sei." no response. "sei." and still. "seishiro." you beg for him to say something. out of frustration, you snatch his 3ds from his hands.
a soft gasp escapes him as he groggily stretches out for his device, his hand just inches away from it —exactly where you wanted him to be. for a moment, his eyes remain fixated on the screen, the sounds of the device ringing in his ears, but gradually, nagi drags his gaze up to find yours. "hey... i was usin' that..." normally, you would relish hearing his sleepy voice on a lazy day, but today... today was something different.
"and i'm trying to talk to you, so will you just—" he shifts his gaze, his eyes drifting elsewhere, leaving an air of unspoken tension between you. determined to bridge the gap, you subtly inch closer to his still figure, your heart racing as you attempt to keep him within your line of sight, hungry for a connection that feels just out of reach. "just listen to me. please?" pathetic, having to ask to be listened to.
"mm..." he mumbles.
"you're not—"
"i am."
with a sigh, your shoulders drop. "okay." that's not okay. you shouldn't allow that to happen. swallowing down the knot bubbling in your throat, you continue to speak. "what did you mean when you said you hated me?"
"i never said that." he's lying right through his teeth. either that, or he's managed to forget, to which you know he's not that stupid.
you brush your teeth over your lower lip, holding back the urge to scream at him — scream whatever words come to mind. your arms are crossed, and your legs too. "then what did you say? be honest with me, because we both know that i heard exactly what you said."
"hm?" he attempts to pull off a clueless expression, but you see right through it. once more, nagi shies away from making eye contact. just when you think the truth might forever remain hidden, a flicker of honesty manages to break through the facade. "i said i used to hate you."
"you said you still maybe do."
"...oh?"
"don't 'oh' me. why did you say it?"
"i didn't mean it like that..."
you are filled with disbelief, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. a deep, simmering anger sizzles beneath the surface, clenching your fists as frustration takes hold, leaving you almost absolutely furious.
"what else could you have possibly meant?"
the only sound that filled the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the rapid thumping in your chest. not a word for five minutes.
for those agonizing five minutes, you turned your back on him, not daring to meet his gaze. you were all too familiar with his ways — the charm that masked his manipulative tactics, whether deliberate or not. it was a game he played expertly, and the last thing you wanted was to be drawn into his web of deceit.
yet somehow, he possesses an uncanny ability to captivate you, much like a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame. as you find yourself locked in a gaze with him, his eyes hold an intense yet disarming quality, radiating an expression that seems to shout, 'i’m innocent'.
their depth invites you in, while the softness of his gaze stirs a blend of curiosity and empathy within you, making it hard to look away. will you fall victim to it once again? "don't give me that look..." you mumble.
"baby..." nagi reaches out for you, his head now laid on your lap and his hands around your calves. he always does this, every time he doesn't know how to ask for forgiveness.
"no... sei, please don't." it's hard for you to push him away, caught between wanting to stay and the pain of your own feelings. seeing the frown on his face tugs at your heart's strings in such a way that shouldn't be possible. you can feel the weight of his grip, heavy yet comforting; it pulls at your emotions in a way that’s almost overwhelming. it's so painful to see him so...
...empty?
"seishiro." finally, you manage to position him in a way so that he's somewhat facing you. you take a deep breath in, slowly exhale out, and brush some hairs away from your face out of habit. "i need you to be honest, okay?"
he only nods.
stay calm, stay calm. you can't let him see how you're really feeling. "what do you think about me?"
"honestly?"
"honestly."
"you won't get mad?" uh oh. that seems like a bad sign. still, you push forward, needing the full truth more than anything. maybe you could fix your relationship, or in this case, maybe you could fix yourself.
"i—"
"you're annoying." he abruptly interrupts you, and your eyes widen in surprise. in that instant, it feels as though a dam that has been sealed for years has suddenly burst, unleashing a string of words that flow effortlessly from his lips. each sentence spills out with urgency, as if he can no longer hold back the thoughts that have been swirling inside him. "you talk too much, i hate listening to you talk and you don't know when to shut up."
you sit there and take every word as if you deserve it. you can't even breathe, just staring down at your shaky hands, now starting to become damp with tears.
"stop bothering me right after class, and stop trying to stop trying to hold my hand all the time. it makes me cringe having to tell everyone else you're my girlfriend. and quit calling my name whenever you watch me play. it's embarrassing."
with a trembling breath, your voice falters, cracking like fragile glass as you softly gather the courage to speak. "...don't you have something nice to say?"
"something nice? you're pretty... i guess..."
and that completely broke you.
for all these years, you believed your relationship was filled with trust, never once feeling a hint of doubt about him. you believed wholeheartedly that he liked your endless rambling filling up the silence, or your randomness, or the little quirks that just make you you.
but clearly, that's not the case. it never was.
with tears blurring your vision, you steeled yourself and carefully made your way through his apartment, memories flooding back with each step. you grabbed what little was yours: your phone, charger, and headphones, clinging to these small, faint tokens of familiarity as you prepared to leave. you even abandon the oversized jacket you wore on your way here, which was his.
the red flags, how did you not see them? they were so obvious, and you still chose to ignore them. because he had a pretty face? because he wants to be treated like a fucking baby? you're sure as hell not going to act like his mother, and your sure as hell not going to let him treat you like his other boy toy.
"i'm so done with you." you try to stifle a sniffle, but a couple of tears escape, tracing an unwelcome path down your face. as you fumble with your shoes, your fingers tremble, and you nearly lose your balance more than once, the world around you blurring with each shaky movement. "don't even think about calling me anymore. don't wanna hear your stupid voice anymore..."
not a single hint of protest escaped nagi's lips. he remained perfectly still, his gaze locked onto you as you finally slammed the door shut behind you.
it was embarrassing, having all of his neighbours and him listen to your sobs echo through the hallway as you approach the metal doors, pressing the button multiple times. the wait felt like torture, your body aching to approach his doorstep once more. you enter, your hand on autopilot as you reach for the button right at the bottom.
"why...?" you find yourself whispering to your own reflection in the elevator mirror, dabbing at the tears glistening on your cheeks with your shirt sleeve. "if you didn't like me in the first place, why couldn't you just say so?"
all you did was talk, right? and everything went back to normal. he was no longer in your life, and you weren't in his.
but is that really what you wanted?
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yesterday at 16:19
im bored
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playyyy
yesterday at 3:27
hey :x
can we talk plz?
today at 13:40
ar u ignoring me?
2 missed voice calls at 13:42
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bllk m.list
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tetzoro · 3 days ago
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˖˙ ꔫ — FEELS LIKE SUNSHINE ˚
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꒰ synopsis : you’ve been having a tough time but kuroo is there to take care of you and remind you how loved you are. this fic is very indulgent so thank you for reading ❤︎ ꒱
꒰ contents : kuroo tetsuro x f!reader ; negative beginning but happy ending, hurt/comfort, non sexual nudity, use of pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, my girl) sappy at the end lol — WC : 1.8k ꒱
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“Long day?” Kuroo asks, holding you close as you start to settle back home. The familiarity is swirling around you, yet you’ve never felt so out of place. You can’t even grace his question with an answer.
The world was muddled, gray. All of the colors around you felt muted and wilted away without the joy the sun brings. 
It wasn’t often you felt like this, but in light of recent events, it’s become your new normal. A blanket of barbed wire wrapped around your shoulders, never letting you rest or relax completely.
You could see the look on his face, the worry etching along his beautiful features twisting the knife in your stomach, nausea rising up your throat. The buildup of bile threatened to spill out and you were choking back the words you desperately wished to say.
Life had a nasty habit of floating out of your grasp, the good things slipping through your fingers and leaving you holding nothing but vacant space, wondering what happened.
It wasn’t that your life had lack of love or enjoyment, but today all of it felt miles away as you’re faced with your reflection — everything bad staring back at you that makes you want to shrivel up and hide away, covering the mirror up in hopes it was all an illusion.
Insecurity and self-doubt chip away at you, taunting you as false memories try to validate all your worst demons, all boiling down to one simple thing.
The absence of hope.
The loss of light that causes darkness to flood in, sticky and invasive, a parasite that latches onto your flesh and bones, tormenting your mind with its lies that only selfishly feed into its lifespan.
Breaking out of it can be a terrible thing. It can hurt like hell — feel like it too as you rip apart something that’s glommed onto your skin and drains you of all the goodness you still desperately tried to hold onto. 
But his touch helps bring you back. The gentle brush of his fingers along your cheek refocuses all of your thoughts — attention landing right back onto him.
“That bad, huh?” Kuroo gives a small smile, one that plants a seed of hope back into your body. The little joy he carries on his face as he looks at you warms and nurtures it, the feeling beginning to bloom and blossom into a rebirth. “Aw, come here, sweetheart.”
The hug he gives you grounds you, pushing all the spiraling pieces of your mind back together, his love consuming you as his arms wrap around your body. 
“Just been a little rough lately.” You mumble, cheek resting against his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat a calming beacon of hope. After the agony of sailing alone in the dark for so long, your lighthouse stands tall, looking for you at every mile.
“I know.” He kisses the top of your head, giving you an extra squeeze. “But I've got you.”
“You don’t have to.” Self-sabotage floods your veins, your hands already trying to push against him, your body pulling away as you’d do anything to keep him from barring the weight you carried on your shoulders.
Kuroo lets you get some space, but you still feel his light touch you. The soft expression he had, the way his fingers twitched with need, already itching to have you back in his arms.
“I want to.” Not an ounce of hesitation wavered in his voice and you blink back a tear, desperately trying to hold your ground.
You wanted to give in so, so badly. But the thought of having anyone feel an ounce of what you felt scared the shit out of you. A last-ditch effort to protect them from you and all the hurt you held.
“I don't want to burden you.” The confession is but a whisper, secretly hoping that he didn’t hear you. But he does, he always takes it in and understands you even when your voice shakes.
“You couldn’t burden me even if you tried.” The fondness in his promise almost scared you, your walls screaming to be put back up. But you knew it was a lost cause, he was nothing if not persistent.
“But-“
“And even if you could,” he pauses, smoothing his palms over your cheeks and down your shoulders, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, speaking his next words against your skull as if your brain would be forced to take them in. “Then please, please burden me.”
“What—“ He cuts you off before you can try to doubt his plea.
“I’ve chosen, committed to loving you. All of you, no matter what. We’re a team, remember? So, burden me.” The fiery intensity in his amber eyes shows you there’s not an ounce of doubt, no hesitation to what he just admitted. It tugs at your heart in all the right ways.
His forehead leans against yours, gazing down at you with all the love and care in the world that it makes you feel silly for ever doubting it. The lingering feelings remain, something deep down inside of you that wants to come out.
“Tetsu, I don't even know where to start.” your voice is still small, vulnerability creeping up on you, pressing down on your back as you fall deeper into his embrace. 
“Then why don’t we get a little more comfortable?” Kuroo asks, innocently enough. “Pouring out your heart out in the front foyer doesn’t seem ideal now does it?”
“No.” You shake your head, a hint of a smile lining your lips. The slight twitch fills Kuroo's heart with hope. He gently takes your hand, leading you further into your shared apartment. 
He’s quiet for a moment and you wonder if he’s feeling the weight you carry on your shoulders through the mere act of holding hands. Before you can slip through his fingers, he holds on tighter, tugging you forward so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder instead.
“What do you say, beautiful? Take a bath, order some takeout, and maybe tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His other hand reaches up, gently booping you on your forehead, followed by the tip of your nose. 
“Yeah.” The light begins to seep back into your soul the more you melt into his side, tucked away from the ugly thoughts that were invading your space these past few days. 
To say you were lucky was an understatement. To have someone who’s willing to sit with you for as long as it takes until you muster up the courage to speak about your troubles is more than you could ever ask for.
The patience and care that exudes from the man beside you is almost infectious. Love pours from every word and every action he commits, flooding the walls of your heart until you have no choice but to open the doors and let him fully consume you. It only makes it easier knowing that he’s held the key all along.
“Get in there.” Kuroo smirks, jerking his head to the drawn bath, a waft of lavender filling your nose – the kind he knew you always loved. It crinkles your nose just right, scrunching it up in a blissful state that catches the sparkle of Kuroo’s bright eyes. Everything looked beautiful and your heart has never felt so warm, so cherished.
One of your favorite things about this apartment was the bathroom, as silly as it sounds. The high rise you lived in left big windows in every room, this one being no exception. The city lights shone beyond, letting you gaze out into the world when it didn’t have the opportunity to look back.
It’s amazing how one moment you can feel so down in the depths of despair but looking out at the window from this height serves as a reminder of how far up from the bottom you are. The progress you’ve made doesn’t become exempt the moment things start getting tough again, it’s merely another test that aims to show you how far you’ve truly come.
As you crawl into the warm water of the tub, letting the bubbles soak away your worries and sing you melodies of relaxation, Kuroo goes the extra mile. Because of course he does. There were a few candles you kept in the linen closet for nights when you two wanted to have a romantic bath. He lights them anyway, adding to the cozy ambience, and your heart soars at the thoughtful gesture.
“Are you planning on joining me?” You ask, eyes on him, watching him scurry around the small space to make things perfect. His head whips around to you, gaze softening once again before something mischievous swims his golden irises. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” Kuroo quickly takes off his clothes, not giving you nearly enough time to admire his toned body before he slipped in behind you, sturdy arms holding you flush against him. “There, now we’re all nice and cozy.”
“Thank you, Tetsu.” You sigh a breath of relief that had been trapped somewhere deep within, locked away with a key that had been thought to be lost. Leaning back against his shoulder, you realize how much you needed this — him.
His syrupy sweet lips brush against your head like the sun kissing the horizon as it rises once again. It fills you with warmth, support, gratitude. Everything wonderful in this world birthed from a simple kiss that held all the love you needed. 
“You can always lean on me, I won’t ever let you fall.” Kuroo’s voice is softer than usual, a tone reserved for you and these tender moments when you need a little extra gentleness. The tender, reassuring words cradle around your ear and hold your heart steady as his arms loop around you, securing you in place. “I promise.”
You know your thanks will fall on deaf ears, that this simple task he’s doing for you is no sweat off his back. The only thing he craves to hear from you is your acceptance, your willingness to let him in so you can tackle everything together like the power couple you were meant to be.
“Okay.” You whisper out into the soft-lit room, letting the atmosphere of love and bubbles consume you, melting away your troubles like the wax that drips from the candles. “I will.”
“That’s my girl.” Without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling. A proud grin he notoriously wears like his finest suit whenever he finally achieves his goals. The one he knew he’d sport in only a matter of time after he broke down your stubborn walls once again. 
Tender hands rub along your arms, his lips brushing along your head as he hums to the tune that never fails to make you smile right back. The song you would often sing to each other in the sweet moments in your life whether it be slow dancing in the kitchen as dinner cooks, or moments like these where you’re tucked away from the rest of the world to be reminded just how much your souls are tied together.
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thank you for being here + thank you for reading ❤︎
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eiralunaire · 2 days ago
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Headcanos of Damian Wayne.
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1. Small Gestures of Tenderness.
Although Damian would never admit it out loud, he always feels inexplicably more relaxed when he's around his girlfriend. He often watches her in silence, observing the small details, like the way she laughs, her expression when she's focused, or how she always has something to say, even when she doesn't feel like talking. There's something about those moments that makes him feel, for the first time in his life, that war and fighting aren't everything.
2. Defender of Her Well-Being.
Damian, who has been trained to be cold and calculating, can't help but become extremely protective when it comes to her. If someone looks at her wrong, even in jest, he'll step in without thinking, making it clear with his gaze (and sometimes his threat of "don't do it again") that no one can hurt her. He's convinced that it's his responsibility to take care of her, but it's more of an internal desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.
3. The Typical Sarcastic and Jealous Behavior.
When it comes to other men, Damian is relentless. Although he would never express it in an obvious way, he feels extremely uncomfortable if any kind of unwanted attention is directed towards his girlfriend. It is common for his sarcastic tone to appear when some guy talks too close to her. "Really? Do you think she wants to hear that?" he would say, with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as he takes a step forward.
4. Thoughtful (albeit weird) Gifts.
He is not the type of boyfriend to buy expensive jewelry or flowers (because he doesn't know how those things work), but what he does do is remember the little details about what his girlfriend likes. One day, unbeknownst to her, Damian shows up with a rare book she mentioned in a casual conversation, or with that chocolate she is known to like a lot. The truth is, he's become an expert at listening to her, not just because of his tactical intelligence, but because he genuinely wants to please her, even if his way of showing it is... unconventional.
5. Intimate Moments of Vulnerability.
When Damian is with his girlfriend, his guard is down in ways that only happen with her. It can be something as simple as watching a movie together, or lying next to her after a long day of training, but in those moments, he doesn't have to live up to his last name or his lineage. It's just him, Damian Wayne, simply enjoying her company. It's a luxury he doesn't usually get with anyone else, but with her, it's something that constantly draws him in and comforts him.
6. Interactions with His Family.
Despite his reserved attitude, Damian has found himself talking more to his family about his girlfriend, albeit in a slightly brusque manner. With Bruce, for example, his attitude towards her is a kind of possessiveness that makes it clear that he wants her in his life, but he also knows that his father will never really understand what he feels. With Alfred, however, he seems more relaxed, because he knows that the butler sees what he sometimes can't recognize: how happy their relationship makes him.
7. Subtle but Efficient Jealousy.
Damian can't help but show jealousy, although he does it in a subtle and almost childish way. For example, if his girlfriend talks a lot with another guy (even if he's a close friend), he may make comments like: "Since when are you so interested in what he has to say?" or suddenly offer to take her back to her apartment, as if there was some "urgent" business to attend to, to prevent her from staying too long with that person. It's his way of saying "I want you all to myself" without having to say it directly.
8. He Likes Deep Conversations.
Damian isn’t a man of many words, but when he’s with his girlfriend, he finds it easy to open up and share things he never thought he’d say. He likes to talk to her about topics that have nothing to do with war or fighting, like his views on the future or what he thinks about life. Sometimes, he catches himself talking more than he planned, but he doesn’t mind, because he knows he can be vulnerable with her, something he’s learned to deeply appreciate.
9. The Vulnerability of Being “The Man”.
When he’s with her, Damian feels weird about not being able to show off everything he knows how to do. I mean, with his combat skills and tactical intelligence, he could defend her from anything, but what really attracts him to her is how she calms him down and makes him feel more human. In her mind, that makes him more than just Bruce Wayne’s son or trained assassin. He makes her feel a little more normal, like any other guy in love, and that thought baffles him, but he loves it at the same time.
10. Sudden Moments of Insecurity.
Despite all his training and his confident facade, Damian sometimes feels insecure in their relationship. There are times when he doubts himself: Is he really up to par with her? Will he be enough for someone like her, who has so much to offer? Although he would never admit it, he has those moments of uncertainty that make him more human. However, as time goes on, he realizes that all he really needs to do is be himself, and sometimes, even a more vulnerable and caring Damian can be what attracts her the most.
11. The Unspoken "I Protect You".
Although he never says it outright, Damian is obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her. If she is ever sad, he turns into a wall of ice, willing to face anything to make her feel safe. This leads to more possessive behavior, but he doesn't see it that way. It's his way of showing her that even though he's not the traditional boyfriend type, he'll always be there for her, even if that means walking away from conflict and just offering his company.
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cherrygirlfriend · 19 hours ago
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(not) lost and found pairing: reader x sistersfiancé!rafe synopsis: when reader has to return her sister's shoes, she sees her fiancé again. this time, in a different state than before. warnings: hurt and comfort, reader stitches up rafe wc: 1.5k
people have been wanting me to write more for them and i've been meaning to i swear!! just haven't gotten around to it lmao but more interesting stuff for this pairing is coming
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"jenny, no." you sighed exasperatedly into your phone, "i already told you, no. i'm doing homework."
"but it's technically your fault?"
"how is it my fault that your drunk ass left your damn shoes in my car?" you scoff, and if it wasn't so typical of jenny, you wouldn't be able to believe the nerve she'd have to even say it was your fault that she was too drunk that she couldn't even remember to take her shoes.
"just take them to my place, alright! i'm on a trip right now and i don't need your shit."
"i'm not a damn lost and fo-"
before you could finish your sentence, your sister had hung up on you, and although you tried to call her again, she wouldn't answer. the bitch was ignoring you, as usual.
so, that was how you ended up driving to the house your sister shared with her fiancé while rain was pouring down the sky, your windshield wipers working overtime to make sure you'd get there without slipping off the road.
when you finally parked in front of the house you'd been at only a few days prior, you leaned the back of your head against the headrest, gazing at the lit-up windows of the home. you wanted so badly to not be jealous of the life she had, to not give her the satisfaction of knowing how much you'd always envied her; envied the way your parents had always preferred her, how you'd always felt more like a burden to them than a child.
taking a hit from a vape pen and tossing it to the passenger side of your car, you breathed out the vapor before getting out of the car, slamming the door closed behind you, flimsily holding onto your older sister's louboutins, a petty part of you wanting to accidentally drop them to the ground as you made your way to the door.
but when you reached the door, lifting your hand to knock on the door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. with furrowed brows, you stepped inside, your ears filling with the noise of loud shouts and sounds of glass breaking.
you placed down the heels as quietly as possible, pulling your phone out and dialing 911, holding the phone close to your chest as you walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, prepared to press call.
but what you came across caused your brows to furrow.
jenny's fiancé's back was facing you as he threw a vase on the ground, the smashing noise ringing in your ears as you brought your hands to cover them.
"fucking bitch!"
you didn't know what to do, simply watching the man throw a picture into the ground, the glass of the picture frame blending in with the glass from the vase. what used to be jenny's glamorous living room now looked like it was one of those rooms people go to smash up old electronics and plates, just missing the graffiti on the walls, but in place of them were a few fist-shaped holes.
when rafe picked up a glass of amber liquid to his lips, you figured it'd be your best chance to make your presence known, so you cleared your throat, saying his name in a soft voice. "rafe?"
the man turned to look at you, letting out a soft, dry chuckle as you pursed your lips, looking around at the wrecked room. "what are you doing here? is your sister drunk again? 'cause if she is, she can sleep on the fuckin' lawn for all i care."
"no, she just left her shoes and..." you shook your head, taking a few, wary steps towards the man, pocketing your phone. "what's up? did something happen with...?"
"your sister?" rafe let the now-empty glass fall to the ground, a few drops of whiskey now decorating the pile of glass as it smashed, rafe collapsing onto the ground, leaning his head against the back of the formerly-immaculate white couch, that now seemed to be covered in red wine. "that'd be the understatement of the century."
you noticed a gash on his arm, a rather large piece of glass sticking out, red blood staining his white sweater, "rafe, you're bleeding."
the man chuckled, looking down at the cut and shaking his head, "i didn't even notice. woops."
"let me go get my stuff."
"it's really-"
"shut up." you say sharply, rushing outside to your car.
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you were kneeling next to rafe, the man pressing a cloth to where the piece of glass had been lodged in while muttering something under his breath while you poured disinfectant onto another cloth. "this is gonna sting, but if you're gonna be a baby about it, i'm gonna let you bleed out."
rafe let out a small, nearly inaudible chuckle and the ends of your lips twitched slightly upwards, "i'm pretty sure i'm not gonna feel it with how much whiskey-"
his sentence was interrupted by a loud hiss he let out when you took away the cloth he'd been holding against his arm, starting to press the one with disinfectant against the wound, your lips curving into a proper smile.
"is my pain funny to you?"
"no." you looked at rafe to see a small smile on his lips, "it turns me on."
rafe let out a guffaw at your statement, shaking his head as you began putting monofilament thread onto the curved needle, the man's brows furrowing as he watches. "how do you even know how to do all this?"
"you don't know?" you let out a chuckle, "of course, why would i assume my dear sister ever speaks about anything other than herself. i'm studying to be a doctor."
"i didn't know that." rafe watched as you brought the needle to his wound, "have you done stitches before?"
"on fake skin." you shrug, starting to stitch up his wound, "so, why did you do all this? you're lucky that thing didn't lodge any deeper."
"i could've just gone to an actual hospital."
"yeah, but wouldn't you rather give your future sister-in-law some practice?" you said, not noticing the way rafe was gazing at you, your tongue peeking out, your brows furrowed in a way that caused small wrinkles to appear on your forehead. "spill."
rafe let out an exasperated sigh, looking away from you, instead focusing on all the broken glass on the ground. he'd have to figure out a way to fix it before jenny got home.
"your sister's cheating on me."
a small oh left your lips as you continued.
"i saw texts on her phone before she left. she told me she was going on a work trip for the law firm she's interning with but she's currently at some hotel with the guy she's seeing."
"she... she always told me she was going out with you, at least once a week, but i'm starting to realize it's not true, is it?"
you chewed on your lower lip as you continued stitching the wound, letting out a soft, quiet, "i'm sorry, rafe. i see her like, once a year on christmas."
rafe nodded his head slightly, "lucky you." the man chuckled dryly, "it all just... made me feel like i'm not enough. that no matter what, the people around me are gonna keep betraying me. that i can never trust anyone."
you let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "i know how that feels."
"you do?" rafe looked down at you, as you finished tying the end of his suture, cutting the thread.
you sat up straight, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you started packing away your stuff. "everyone's always preferred jenny over me. everyone's always picked her over me. my parents always preferred her. every guy i liked always thought she was prettier. all my friends always thought she was cooler." you chew on your lower lip, your throat starting to hurt from the emotion you were trying to hold back, avoiding his gaze, "my entire life, i spent living in her shadow. my entire life i've been 'jenny's sister' and nothing else."
"that can't be true."
"you know what my parents' reaction was when i got into med school?" you chuckled dryly, your eyes turning glassy as you finally looked to rafe, "'that's great sweetie. anyway, did you hear that jenny got engaged? her ring is so gorgeous. oh, and she's doing so well in law school!'" you mimicked your mother's voice, letting out a sigh. "and jenny thrives from it. she's always loved that she's better than me. even as kids, she did everything she could to one-up me."
"she's not." rafe took your shaking hand in his, enveloping it in his larger one, "you just stitched up a half-stranger when you could've just left when you saw me destroying shit. your sister would never do something that selfless. i don't even think she has a selfless bone in her body."
"you're starting to sound like me." you let out a chuckle, shaking your head, "how come you're engaged to her, then?"
"maybe i don't have any either." rafe shrugs, "but i'm not letting her get away with this. i'm not someone to be messed with."
"that sounds ominous."
"you have no idea." he smiles, squeezing your hand.
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takeurexam · 2 days ago
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the look of love - sylus x reader
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sypnosis - sylus cant help but express his love for you through his magnificent look of love to you, and even if it's something you miss from him- all he cares about that his eyes still can reach you.
• no. 1 party anthem - artic monkeys
ps: this song's meaning is not connected to the concept in any way... maybe just think about the sound?
- fluff, sylus being smitten real, blood/injuries mentioned, short
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There are so many moments where Sylus can just blur the whole backround, and just look at you as if you were a goddess sent down from the heavens. His look wont leave you until you snap him back to reality- if you even can.
He can name so many moments.
There was even a time when he almost bled to death, because of some fight that happened in an auction he went to while protecting the Protocore he wanted to bid on. It unfortunately was not protected, causing Sylus to get severe injuries from the fight.
Well, he could heal- but why do that when you're there tending for his wounds? How can he tell his sweet nurse, her heart full of concern for him? The sight was so amusing to him, that he couldn't seriously get his eyes off you.
"You know, I didn't expect for someone like you to get injured so seriously like this." You murmur, dipping the hot wet cloth into his wounds to clean them. You cant see it, but your patient had his eyes straight towards you, as if he was a motion detecting device.
"Don't be so careless, okay?" You whisper too quietly, but it was enough to reach the white haired man's ears. He couldn't hold back the smirk curling on his lips, seeing you so concerned for him just switches a light bulb inside him.
He looks at you, red eyes full of love inside them; he cant just get enough of it. He can't survive a day without seeing you, and the sight of your hair, your skin, your eyes, or merely your ear could be enough for him.
"You're too caring, Sweetie. It makes me want to get injured more-" Sylus recieves a not too strong, yet forceful hit on his chest from you. He sees your furrowed brows, and he swears- it was the last tug on his strings.
"Dont say that, I'll actually kill you." You lift a fist suddenly, yet it never hits Sylus. He just laughs it out, seeing you lift a fist at the Leader of Onychinus. As if you had any power against him. You did.
"Ouch." He hisses, for your words and the pain of the injury. Your eyes flicker towards him, a sting of pity stinging your heart; you were like a stingray, and you have stinged his heart completely.
You slowly patch up the wound, adding last necessary items to cover up the cleaned wound. Once you finish, you fix the materials and set them aside for now; you have something more important at hand- babysitting a twenty-eight year old.
He stares at you, his red eyes making the official color of love. You raise a brow, confused on to why he was staring right at your soul. Is there something behind you? Your face? What was it?
"You're staring at me as if I killed your whole family." You comment, crossing your arms together. He erupts into chuckles, but his gaze never leaves you.
"Nothing."
There was another moment where in you were both crossing the road, talking about where to walk to next in four in the morning, having friendly arguments on where the best place in Linkon can be for watching the sunrise.
You two decided to just walk, as it was just four in the morning, and a morning walk cant be that bad. Its cold and the atmosphere is comepletely nice, unless theres kidnappers or something- but aside that, its nice.
"This is very heavy." An elderly woman was beside the stoplight for pedestrians, carrying four heavy looking bags, at the middle of the night.
You and Sylus look at each other, with the same thought to why there was an old woman in the streets at four in the morning.
But setting your concerns aside, you leave the white haired man beside you, stepping your way to the old woman. "Here, let me help you." You smile, carrying the two other bags for her.
"Oh! Thank you, young lady. My old body cant carry bags that much anymore." She cackles, her teeth shining. "I bought so many gifts for my lovely grand children, that they were too heavy. I'm suprised I got this far." She exclaims, her smile contagious.
Your conversation with the old woman dosen't make you aware of Sylus entering the picture, as he walks behind you. He smiles, carrying the other bags from the old lady. "Let me help you too, Miss."
"Oh, how lovely." She giggles, pointing towards the house a few blocks away. "I'll just settle there, and you two can continue your way." The two of you nod, making your way to the said place.
But ago, Sylus was once again caught up in your web. He couldn't stop staring at you when you stepped up to the old lady, with no hesitation to leave him hangging alone, knowing the risk factors.
He looked at you, as if he "found his bride." He just stood there, staring at you smile widely at the old woman.
And as you two walked, he can't help it- his eyes cant stop lingering over you, he can't stop his heart from racing, how the night sky couldn't even engulf you in its darkness, and how you shine so brightly in his eyes.
It wasn't even the last time. He cant even count how many times it happened, but there was one exact moment that made his heart tie its knot to you.
When you accidentally witnessed something you weren't supposed to see. You were normally walking in Linkon, nothing unusual, until you notice a familliar red evol roaming around a balcony of the building you were staring at.
As your eyes zoom closer, you see the man who held his evol; his suit red and black. He carelessly beat up the men with him, as if he was in an action movie and he was filming for mission impossible.
But your eyes squint a little more, and you see a strand of white hair on the man. "Sylus?" You murmur, not deciding to scream it out.
Like the wind carried your voice to him, Sylus looks down from the balcony, seeing your little figure looking at the mess he is right now. His heart stops, as if blood just stops flowing towards him, but it cant; he finished up the men, and with a heavy breath- he used his evol and flew down to settle beside you.
He sees you, clothes formal as you just came from work- compared to him, he looked like a mess. Blood was all over him, not even his- but from his enemies. His clothes were dirty, whilist yours were clean.
He felt his mind race. You knew about his position in Onychinus, and how dangerous he was- but he never involved you in his dirty work. He could never let you see how much of a monster he was.
His fear crept up to him, awaiting the words "monster" come out from your throat.
"Need a tissue?" You tilt your head, your tone offering and sweet. What? He was confused, where were the words he expected to come out from your mouth?
He stood there, blood creeping from his forehead, as he remained dumbfounded. He accepts the tissue you reached out to him, his eyes not leaving you.
The tissue didn't matter, damn it. Why weren't you running? Why were you still there, right infront of him, acting as if it was nothing? Was fear consuming him right now- maybe he was just hallucinating, and you already ran away from him.
You click your tongue, grabbing back the tissue from his hands. You wipe the blood from him yourself, the dim streetlamp was the only light source for you two.
While you wiped his blood, his crime- he spoke. "Why are you here, wiping the blood on my body when you've seen what I do?" His voice is quiet, a voice laced with confusion, fear, and a little bit of sprinkled hope.
"Honestly, does it matter?" You laugh, "I jumped into your life aware of what you do, so dont come to me playing the confused man, 'kay?" You snort, finishing the process of wiping the blood.
And his eyes absorbed the sight of you, as if he was being cursed by a witch to hallucinate you forever, well, for him- would it even be a curse?
You truly have recieved the look of love.
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a/n: finally done! after one month of the poll, i finally release the short ahh oneshot i promised. i deliver! ❤️ so sorry this is short, i just have a thing for short fanfics LOL
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bluewhitehues · 2 days ago
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“ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ, ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ, ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ” ~
♡Choi Seungcheol/ S.coups × Female reader 《FLUFF, COMFORT》
♡t/w: mentions of pimples/acne.
"Aghhh I told you don't kiss my cheeks, there are pimples everywhere." You said groaning pulling back from seungcheol. Where you're snuggling against him on your couch.
"Do I look like I care baby?" He says pulling you on his lap like he is on a mission, trying to kiss your cheek but you stop him.
"No but like it's dirty, there are probably bacterias and all everywhere." You say making a face.
Seungcheol scoffs, "You're impossible baby, and if I want to kiss you,I'll kiss you nothing will stop me. It's not like I'll die, come on." He squints his eyes giving you a look,"plus you look hot with all the pink on your cheeks, it enhances your beauty." He says scanning your face, holding your chin, tilting it downwards towards his face.
You finally let out a little laugh, "Seriously? Are you throwing my words at me right now? I told you you were hot with your pimple once."
"No, exactly now I get why you said that, I found it ridiculous back then,but I get you now." He says scanning your face, kissing your cheek again.
"Extra pretty" another kiss, "extra cute", another kiss on other cheek, "extra beautiful" another kiss, "extra beautiful" He finishes with a last kiss on your forehead (or you thought so).
And you know he means it by the way he looks at you with all the love he has for you in his eyes. " Really?" You whisper.
"Hmm. Really really" He says squeezing you to himself, hand sliding to back of your neck and pressing his lips on yours firmly, kissing you tenderly. Showing how much he means it.
To say you're the happiest seems like an understatement. Your man knows how to keep you/ his woman happy, how to make her feel loved everyday. He makes sure you don't have any insecurities or worries by crushing them down even before they arise, even before they have a chance to mess with you.
Masterlist
A/N:This is a hug for all my beautiful girlies out there. You are beautiful no matter what. If you are insecure about anything may it be acne, scars or something else... My beautiful it just so happens that our prettiest moon glows brightly flaunting her scars and spots. It is a part of her own beauty, it adds on to her beauty. And you're no different.🫂🩷
>> I get pimples atleast once a month and right now it's bad and call me weird or narcissistic idk I really do sometimes like them, it gives you a blush like appearance idk.😭😂 just random thoughts made me write this fic. I wanted to write this with wonwoo as a lead because let's be honest we all are stuck on that one TTT GoSe episode, the water games one 👉🏼👈🏼 I might post wonwoo version tomorrow. Ok bye I'm talking so much hope you enjoy this fic. See you soonnnn🫡
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rezitio · 2 days ago
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"𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐄" gojo satoru
smut
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leak: You find yourself in Gojo's bed again
genre: post-high school series, college sex, plaything, smart!rr, realistic college fuckboy (You're just a plaything), messy org, p in v, dacryphillia, gojo is high, sweet talk
artist: gojo satoru
━━━━━━
All your senses are dulled; that smart brain that was always at work, either running that sharp mouth or your honour roll grades, has gone blank.
But you're not spaced out either. You wish you could be, but each thrust brings you right back to the present. The pleasure you’re feeling down there won’t allow you to even dream of being anywhere other than the reality of Gojo Satoru’s bed being pounded into.
But who are you to complain? You called for this. Blowing up his phone with shit like ‘I need you’ when his other girl is right next to him. He was so close to blocking your number if you kept flooding his DMs.
But all it took was one nude to get this man to blow off the other girl and invite you over. You’re lucky, you tell yourself.
So lucky that fuckboy Gojo has a liking for your body. The boy who all he does is lead and everyone cheers.
He’s calling you to his bed of all places. For all his other hoes, it's either their house or another room in his mega mansion; the university calls a dorm. You’d like to think it makes you special. You’re not.
He’s digging you deep into the mattress with each thrust. Your eyes dart across the room; it's all you can do other than yell. The room was dark; the only light around was the blue LED strips hidden by the ceiling designs, matching his eyes.
The whites in his eyes had turned a light red. Contrast to your sober ones. That should have been your first sign, but from ignoring red eyes to red flags, warnings have never been your strong suit.
Your clothes and his mixed on the floor, the purple liquid on the nightstand that got knocked down somewhere in between the time you still had energy to squirm around was still dripping onto the expensive carpet.
Gojo didn’t care; he had enough money to buy another one. Right next to the cup of lean was his firearm. You don't know what happened to him during his teen years that made him turn out like this, but those who knew him when he was in his senior years all say it was inevitable for him and his group.
The lights were all so pretty. Illuminating behind the design of the ceiling. You wanted to get a better look at it, gently raising your head to look up, only for it to roughly be pushed back down.
Just like that, you were brought back to the reality of things: how deep he was in you, how loudly you were screaming. His dick was ravaging you at a constant rhythm. It was hitting that spot repeatedly with each thrust. And his dick wouldn’t even leave your warmth for a second, keeping you filled up.
A drop of salty water finds a way to your mouth. That's when you notice a pool of wet cloth around your face. You had been crying for a while now, although you’re now noticing it Gojo’s been staring at it for a while, but he didn’t care to slow down. In fact, it gave him an ego boost.
You’re crying yet at the same time begging him not to stop; how pathetic could you be? Tired of the noise, his digits find a way into your mouth. You know what he wants you to do; you suck on them, muffling your sounds. In other words, you shut up.
It was working for a while. He could deal with the vibrations on his fingers masking your loud moans until he felt himself getting close. He could care less about the progress he was making and quickened his pace chasing the release.
Trying to keep your sound in, you bite down on his fingers. He didn't mind; all his other sensations dulled down and focused on his cock. He could feel his body teasing him, electric currents rushing from his sacks through to his length, then dancing at his tip as more electricity piles on his tip.
God, he loved your body so much. It was like it was in perfect sync with his. Your lower body started shaking on his dick; the screams were slipping out; you were also close.
Your fingers reached for the hand binding them, digging your nails into his skin. “Toru…” You yelped out, but he already knew; a little bit of your white liquid was already running down his thigh. You were doing such a bad job of holding your orgasm.
“Cum on me, baby.” He commanded his hand, left your hands, and began to work on your clit as you released. All his self-confidence decimated as he felt his own orgasm rushing out and had no control over it. He was no better than you.
He pulled out, and your cream blew over his thigh; he didn't have time to mind it, though. His finger in your mouth pulled your head back quickly, rushing to release in your mouth. But he barely had control over the pleasure you made him feel.
The little squirter almost missed your mouth, causing part of his walls and the side of your face to be painted in the same liquid that was now rushing down your throat. He sandwiched your head between the mattress and his dick, enjoying the vibration of your gags and gurgles.
“Sh... struggle with me...” He lowly whispered as if he wasn't suffocating you. God, he hated how messy you were and how messy and stimulated you made him.
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label: rezitio© album: post-high school au sample: Yale by Ken Carson
im currently writing a nanami fiction, so buckle up for that 😛
kodaswrld for banner
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parkerluvsu · 2 days ago
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day 18: punishment <3
authors note: this is totally late im so sorry.. also i am skipping day 19, partially because im extremely tired and also because i don't know how to incorporate food into sex <3
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art knew what he was doing was wrong, he just didn't care. he was past the point of caring.
you've been away for weeks (2 to be exact) and art hasn't jerked off at all since you've left. sure.. he's brushed up against his pillow while he's going to sleep one too many times, and sure hes "accidentally" stroked himself a little too much in the shower.. but he's been good!! he's been your good boy and followed your orders. until now.
you texted art that your flight was running late, grounded for about 2 hours because of the winter storm currently running its course outside the airport.
"sorry artie, flight is delayed cuz of weather, don't wait up for me baby, might not even be home tonight"
"okay :( i miss you soooo much, text me when u land pls"
"alright angel, will do :) love u <3"
"love u too <3"
art sighs and flops on the unbearably empty bed, flinging his phone a little farther than he meant to and wincing. he looks down at his cock slowly filling out in his jeans and groans. what is he supposed to do without you here? as thoughts of you start to cloud his mind, art can't stop thinking that if he just jerked off really quick and got rid of all the evidence, you wouldn't know it, and you'd come back none the wiser and he wouldn't get punished. great plan right? wrong.
after furiously jerking off until he cums himself silly, art finds himself totally unable to clean up after himself, cum stating to dry on his blanket and stomach, as well as tissues strewn about the bed. art sighs and tries to fight the sleepiness that clouds his mind and makes his eyelids droop more and more. he thinks to himself that he'll clean himself up before you get back, and drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
you arrive at your apartment door hauling your heavy suitcase and back pack behind you, trying your best not to jingle your keys too much and wake up art. you carefully unlock the door and push your bags inside, slipping off your shoes and walking into the house tiredly, wanting nothing more to sleep for 20 hours. you're stopped however, when you round the corner and see art splayed out on your bed, absolutely naked, cuddling your pillow with a cum stained blanket bedside him. you sigh, leaning down to pick up the scattered tissues and throw them away. when you're done with that, you gently sit next to art, trying to pull away the dirty blanket from him and replace it with a new one.
art senses the movement and awakens, first being elated to see your face, and then shocked at the fact that he was caught red-handed. "h-hi.." art looks away from you and blushes. "hey artie.. you gonna tell me what happened?" you coo at him softly, tricking his brain into thinking he won't get punished. "w-well i jus' missed you so much and then when you said you weren't gonna be home for a while i just couldn't handle it anymore.. b-but i swear i didn't do anything while you were away!! except for that.." art rambles, trying to plead his case in front of you. you smile and nod, reaching out to cup his face. art sighs, he's safe. "... but you remember what the rule was, right?"
arts eyes snap open from their blissful state. "w-what?" art is starting to lose his composure, guilt washing through him. "the rule? remember.. before i left i told you that you weren't allowed to masturbate at all while i was gone. and you broke the rule artie.." you say with a pout on your face. "l-listen 'm sorry, 'm really sorry.. you understand right? i- just couldn't take it anymore.." you shake your head, "you know that i have to punish you right? it's what i told you would happen if you broke the rules.." art nods sadly, trying to charm you with his puppy-dog eyes but you're stronger than that, not falling for his tricks.
art tries his best to hide his obvious arousal from you, but you see how hard he is through the blanket he's covering himself with. you inch closer to him, gently pulling the blanket off of him, watching as his cock slaps against his stomach. art whines and looks away from you, moaning softly when you grip him in your hand. even though he's already practically empty from cumming earlier. you stroke him up and down gently, smiling happily when he bucks his hips up to meet your touch, feeling like he's halfway to heaven after not feeling your touch on him the whole time you've been away.
arts head is in the clouds, watching as you stroke him faster and faster, your hand getting slick from all of the precum drooling out of him. you know he's getting close, his hips move faster, almost fucking your hand, as his moans turn almost girlish. "'m gettin' close.. it feels s' good.. thankyouthankyouthankyou..." art doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence before you rip your hand off of him, leaving art to pathetically hump the air to try to finish himself off, but it's no use, his orgasm is completely ruined. art has tears brimming in his eyes, "w-why did you do that.. i- i was s' close.." his lower lip wobbles. you tilt your head to the side, hand smoothing over his milky thigh. "what do you mean artie? i told you that you'd be punished, did you forget so easy?" art frowns, shaking his head. "i- i didn't forget i just.. it's unfair" he pouts. you smile and bring art closer to you, cuddling him against your sternum.
"i know.. and im sorry.. you know i hate when you're sad, but you have to learn your lesson yeah?" you press a kiss to his forehead. art nods, cuddling up to you. "yeah.. 'm sorry really, it's just cuz i missed you so much" art says quietly, blushing a little bit. "i missed you too artie, don't worry, ill make it up to you soon" <3
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woozinhos · 3 days ago
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when you and vernon ( both as idols) get caught dating and he gets so mad that fans don’t approve your relationship
kind of angry sex?
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I tried to make this one a bit longer let me know what you guys think I gave it a little bit of a plot as well :D
It was a secret that you and Vernon had been keeping for a while - your relationship with him. But the secret had been discovered, and the news had spread like wildfire.
As you walked through the halls of the company building, you could feel the stares of other idols and staff members on you. Whispers and murmurs followed you wherever you went, and it was clear that people were not happy about your relationship with Vernon.
Vernon, however, was furious.
He had always been protective of you, but now he was on edge. The constant attention and criticism from fans and media had taken a toll on him, and he was struggling to keep his anger in check.
When you finally made it back to his apartment, Vernon was waiting for you. He looked tense and on edge, his jaw clenched tightly as he paced back and forth in the living room.
"You're finally here," he said as soon as you walked through the door. "I was worried sick."
He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he was afraid you might disappear.
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked, his voice tight. "I've been trying to reach you all day."
You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, feeling guilty for making him worry. "I just needed some space to think."
Vernon held you tighter, his body still tense with frustration.
"You can't just disappear like that," he said, his voice strained. "Not after what happened today."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching your face.
"Do you have any idea what people are saying about us?" he asked, his voice low and angry. "They're tearing us apart, tearing you apart."
Vernon's grip on you tightened as he spoke, his fingers digging into your skin.
"They're saying all kinds of things about you, about our relationship," he said, his eyes flashing with anger. "That you're not good enough for me, that you're only after my fame and money."
You met his gaze, your own expression determined.
"But I'm an idol too, Vernon," you said firmly. "I've worked just as hard as you have, and I'm just as talented. I deserve to be with you, just like you deserve to be with me."
Vernon's expression darkened as you spoke, his anger flaring up even more.
"That's not the point," he said through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter that you're an idol too. The fans still don't approve of our relationship, and they're not going to stop until they tear us apart."
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair.
"I hate this," he said, his voice rough. "I hate that we have to hide our relationship, that we can't just be together in public without people judging us."
He started to pace again, his footsteps heavy and agitated.
"I just want to be able to hold your hand in public, to kiss you in front of everyone without worrying about what they'll say," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Is that too much to ask for?"
You watched as he continued to pace, his anger palpable in the air.
"I'm tired of hiding," he said, his voice low and strained. "I'm tired of pretending that we're just friends, that there's nothing between us."
He suddenly stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and desire.
"I want you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want you so bad, and I don't care who knows it."
He took a step towards you, his eyes raking over your body.
"I need you," he said, his voice thick with need. "Right now, I need you so badly it's driving me crazy."
Vernon's lips crashed against yours, his kiss rough and demanding.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss. He backed you up against the wall, his body pinning you in place as he devoured your mouth.
His hands roamed over your body, his touch possessive and desperate. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you.
"You're mine," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "No one else's. Understand?"
He claimed your mouth again, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he pressed his body against yours. His hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he lifted you up and pinned you against the wall.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he continued to kiss you senseless. He moved his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he started to grind his hips against yours.
You moaned at the sensation, your head falling back against the wall as Vernon continued to mark your neck. He let out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he felt your body respond to his touch.
Vernon quickly moved to the couch, sitting down with you still in his lap. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "And all mine."
He pulled you closer, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin.
"I want to mark you all over," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want everyone to know that you belong to me."
He leaned back, a smirk on his face as he looked up at you.
"I want to make sure that when you go out in public tomorrow, everyone sees the marks I've left on you," he said, his voice low and possessive. "I want them to know that you're mine, and that no one else can touch you."
The room was filled with the sound of tearing fabric as Vernon's hands tore at your clothes, his desire taking over completely.
He growled as he exposed more and more of your skin, his lips and teeth trailing hot kisses across your body. Once you were completely naked, he took a moment to admire your body, his eyes roaming over every inch of you.
"God, you're perfect," he breathed, his hands tracing over your curves.
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with raw need.
"I want you to ride me," he said, his voice hoarse. "I want to feel you, I want to see you take control and use me to make yourself feel good."
He moved his hands to your hips, his grip firm as he guided you onto his lap.
"Go ahead," he said, his voice strained with anticipation. "Take what you want, baby."
You slowly lowered yourself onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as you felt him fill you completely. Vernon's eyes rolled back in his head, a low groan escaping his throat as he felt your walls clench around him.
You began to move, riding him slowly at first before picking up the pace. Vernon's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he watched you take control.
"That's it," he said through gritted teeth. "Ride me hard, baby. Show me how angry you are."
You increased your pace, your hips moving frantically as you rode him.
Vernon's hands moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly as he helped guide your movements. He was watching you intently, his eyes dark with lust and desire as he took in the sight of you above him.
Suddenly, Vernon couldn't take it anymore.
He started to thrust upwards, meeting your movements with his own and increasing the intensity of the pleasure. He let out a growl, his hands on your hips pulling you down harder onto him with each thrust.
Your moans filled the room as you arched your back, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Vernon's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and dip as he continued to thrust up into you.
"You feel so good," he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening even more. "So tight and wet for me."
He pulled you down so that your chest was pressed against his, his arms wrapping around you and holding you close. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to pound into you.
"I'm never letting you go," he whispered in your ear. "You're mine, forever."
His lips found yours again, kissing you hungrily as you continued to move together. The kiss was messy and desperate, filled with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.
Vernon's hands roamed over your body, touching every inch of you as he held you tightly against him. The pleasure built higher and higher, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body.
You could feel yourself getting close, your body tensing as you neared the edge. Vernon sensed it too, his movements becoming more frantic as he chased his own release.
"Come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."
You were so close, your body teetering on the edge of ecstasy.
Vernon's words sent you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you came undone in his arms. Your body trembled and convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you, your inner walls clenching around Vernon's cock.
He held you tightly, his own orgasm triggered by the feeling of you coming undone around him. He let out a guttural moan, burying his face in your neck as he spilled himself inside you.
The two of you stayed locked together for a moment, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath of your release. Vernon held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he placed soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.
"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice still rough with pleasure. "So perfect."
He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a serious expression.
"I don't care what anyone says," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "I don't care what people think about us, about you. I don't want to leave you, ever."
He reached up to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm.
"You're the most important thing in my life," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I would do anything for you, I would give up everything just to stay by your side."
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fallenclan · 21 hours ago
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wow! it feels weird for this moon (and ravenstar's leadership/arc to finally be over)... i have some Thoughts, particularly about the exiled trio!
patchback -- i like that, of the three, she's the only one who looks genuinely angry. the same is true when ravenstar is killed. levi and sleepydawn look more surprised in that instance as well. given her history, this is the SECOND time patchback has been exiled. i imagine that she enjoys being a part of a clan. possibly, being exiled for the first time was the worst thing that ever happened to her, so when cherrystar gave her a chance, patchback chose to try and "adapt," to be whoever cherrystar would accept. but then ravenstar gave her the room to be herself... surely, with his support, and levi as deputy, then patchback will never have to fear exile again? ha! wrong.
levi -- levi only joined fallenclan after realizing an opportunity to hold power awaited him. i highly doubt levi cares about clan life. i think he's disappointed/annoyed, but not particularly "devestated" in the way that i imagine patchback is. levi will just... move on with his life, and try to find power somewhere else. i think he and patchback will stick together, since they're friends, and there's power in numbers. i believe levi likes power, but doesn't like to be the one making decisions (he likes his second-in-command spot imo). so, with ravenstar gone, patchback becomes his first-in-command. better yet, i imagine levi enjoyed ravenstar, but didn't like him. levi actually likes patchback, so being her second-in-command, backing her up, or better yet, being her partner is especially appealing.
sleepydawn -- he just looks numb. after ravenstar's death, i imagine he quickly resigned himself to what his fate would be. it's also noteworthy that his mate, ashblink, won't be joining him. ashblink could easily have chosen to leave with sleepydawn, but didn't. their relationship felt very shallow from the beginning. while i do think they care about each other, i think sleepydawn's loyalty to ravenstar would always come over his affection for ashblink, and ashblink would ultimately realize that sleepydawn isn't looking for love. within their interactions, ashblink is shown being caring/supportive (as best he can) towards sleepydawn, who looks bored/disinterested or rebuffs him. sleepydawn doesn't know how to be in a relationship. he needs to sort his own shit out before having a boyfriend. i think there's a 50/50 chance that sleepydawn will set out on his own, and try to "find himself" while also seething in bitterness and grief, versus deciding to throw in his lot with patchback and levi.
silly idea: patchback starts her own clan (ravenclan? after the first cat to ever """accept""" her for who she is) with levi as deputy. sleepydawn joins. teeheehee. it would be funny, but in all likelihood, i think the three of them will just have to face reality and Cope rather than getting any sort of resolution they would have hoped for.
anyway, yay wolfstar!!! yay kestrelfeather! yay pondshine and flamefall and cloudtuft!! yippee!! i love how happy wolfstar looks for once, and i was delighted to see broccoli and pepperswipe <3 i know sweetclover is so proud... but also trying to be there for her parents
also finchbeak kits next moon! is the father chumtail or flamefall? or a mysterious, third cat... comment down below! /j
-🐉
MY GOD dragon once again you have hit the nail perfectly on the head... i don't even need to make an explanation post you got it in one. incredible
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unknownati · 2 days ago
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xi. christmas!
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a/n: guys part of this was supposed to be the PROLOGUE to a 12 part sfw and nsfw winter/christmas themed drabbles (mini fics?) but i got too busy 💀 literally had 4 days left to write but then the 12th went by and i was like... damn
its ok tho i might upload the finished days just as separate fics
while we're here why does nle choppa have a christmas song
warnings/tags: none rlly, just fluff, SO corny, SO sappy, no use of y/n, no description of reader's features, gn!reader, decorating w/ ekko 🎉, reader is a THIEF, pre-arcane plotline (choosing happiness)
_______________________________________________
christmas in zaun was nothing close to ideal. it was never if people celebrated, but more if they could afford it, which most of the time was a no. unless people had kids, they weren't going out of their way to make it a whole thing. not only that, but people didn't really care for it, anyway. they had other things to do. sure, maybe you'd see some extra lights around, or maybe a few lopsided wreaths hanging on a weathered door, but it was always the bare minimum.
but ever since you snuck into piltover as a kid right at the tail end of december, your world was absolutely rocked by the blinding lights and stars and bows and garlands and wreaths and the huge tree sitting smack dab in the middle of the city, illuminating the night sky.
after that, you were obsessed with the idea of christmas. you never had the funds, nor the time, nor the energy, nor enough friends or family to make anything happen all by yourself. but the dream stuck to you.
and then came ekko, and with him, a chance. a huge tree? with an abundance of people living there? it gave you the best idea.
*✲゚*。⋆
cool november air was giving way to the first hints of winter, the sharp bite of cold nipping at the cheeks of zaunites. warm colored leaves were shriveling into themselves and trembling down onto the concrete, scattering through the town. settled in uneven piles, nestled in corners, where the wind could push them no further. christmas has long began to be advertised in piltover, and your excitement was uncontrollable.
quiet as a mouse, you slipped into ekko's work room. he's sat on his stool, elbows rested on the table with his figure shadowing over his work. your fingers glide across his biceps, chin resting against his right shoulder.
"hey handsome," you chirped, working your digits over the curves of his muscles. your lips curled into a grin you were incapable of withholding. "y'got a minute?"
"for you, always." he turned, hands hoisting the weight of his upper body on his knees. his eyes softened upon looking at you. "what's up?"
you slid on his lap, feet swinging back and forth, pendulum like. "soooo," you begin, leaning back on his shoulder. "i'm sure you know what christmas is."
"yeah, why? want me to get you something?" his fingers twisted at the hem of your sweater. you shake your head—not the goal right now.
"no. well, yes, but not what i'm asking you for right now," ekko's head tilts in response. your voice dropped into a playful yet unsure murmur. "iiiiii wanted to know if you'd maaaybe be willing to decorate the base and celebrate it this year?"
his thoughts stutter, and then he laughed. "baby, you know i'd love to, but i can't. don't have the time or the money."
a pout formed on your face, lips jutting out. "we don't have to spend money, we can use what we have lying around! and i have some extra money on the side. we're not flat broke."
"doesn't solve the whole time thing."
"oookay, make time. we'll have the kids help, too! you won't even have to do much, like—seriously, think about it. we don't even need to get a tree because the firelight tree, duh. we can use big cardboard boxes to look like fake presents, we can steal lights 'n' other stuff from the pilties—"
you rambled on, every idea you've ever had since childhood resurfacing and bubbling out of you in an unstoppable torrent. each thought, each plan, all of it spilled out, an overflowing pot.
"hey, hey—" he interrupted, thumb stroking your thigh. "listen, those ideas are great. but we can't. and you have got to stop stealing from topside."
your smile faltered. "but why!? think about the kids, think about me!" ekko hesitates to speak, eyes darting around the room as your face transitions into a pleading pout. "please? pretty please? i'll do the dishes for a month?"
"fuck," your eyes filled with stars. ekko groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "fine! fine, jeez."
the squeal that exited you entered directly into his ears, lips pressing kisses into his face in rapid succession.
"thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! oh my god, it'll be great, we can have the kids make little snowflakes, we could have a little fucking wish box to get gifts for some of the kids—" you gasped loudly upon a realization, planting your hands onto his shoulders. "—you can be santa!!!"
he scoffs, brushing a loc of white hair out of his face. "don't push your luck."
you sigh in mock defeat. "fine, hiemerdinger's got that. i'll take what i can get."
"isn't he kinda short for santa?"
you shake your head. "don't height shame."
*✲゚*。⋆
ekko rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, a small groan rumbling in his throat as he reached over on the bed to find you.
empty.
his head flipped. you've left a now cool dent in the bed in your wake, blanket left in a wild mess.
he frowned, sitting up and looking around. you're nowhere to be found.
maybe you got up to use the bathroom, he thinks, standing up to search the place for you.
the second his feet hit the floor, his brows furrow.
'...glitter?'
his gaze lifts, and his eyes widen as they follow the specks of glitter scattered across the floor, which caught the faint morning light that bled through the curtains.
he followed the trail, small drops of glitter turning into discarded cardboard scraps, which turned into unfinished rolls of ribbon, which lead him to his workroom, where the door was slightly ajar.
he slowly pushed the door open, finding you hunched over a box that you were decorating to look like presents. you tilt your head up to look at him, a smile spreading ear to ear.
"w'ssup?"
he glanced at the small clock on his desk. "it's...five in the morning, why are you up so early?"
you gestured towards the pile of finished boxes in the corner. "working!" the sound of tape ripping off of the roll fills the air as you took a strip, taping the box shut. "i already collected a bunch of paper for the kids to make snowflakes, borrowed some lights 'nd garlands from topside, aaand i'm almost done making all these boxes."
a lot done considering you had had that conversation just the night before.
ekko crouched down to your level, eyes meeting yours. "but...you're gonna clean all this up, right?"
silence.
"right?" he repeated.
your eyes narrowed. "yes?"
"why is that a question?"
you scoff, pressing an empty roll of wrapping paper into his chest. "why are you asking me so many of 'em? get to work. and i need you to use your hover board to fly around and get those lights up," you nod towards a pile of lights on his desk without looking away from your box. he opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off. "thank you!"
he rolled his eyes and stood, tossing the wrapping paper roll into the recycling bin.
at a more appropriate time in the day, you stood at the top of the firelight tree after capturing everyone's attention. public speaking wasn't exactly your thing, but ekko insisted you do it since everything was your idea.
you cleared your throat as the crowd settled into silence, all eyes on you. you shifted your weight onto your other leg.
"um—wow, okay, hi guys. so, i'm sure you've all...heard of christmas. and i know it's usually kinda lame, but truuust me, this year i'm gonna make sure it's—" you gather your fingers, kissing the tips of them and flaring your hand out. "—chef's kiss."
eyes leave you to glance at other's reactions, the silence lifted by an excited murmur.
"yeah, but i'm gonna need help. i have a bunch of paper that i need to be made into snowflakes, so that by the end of the day this place can look better than it already does."
you shifted their focus to scar, who carried a large bin of scissors, string, and paper of various colors. (earlier, scar questioned how you got all these supplies. you just smiled at him.)
after a quick tutorial, children started racing to gather around him, picking their colors and scissors. within a few minutes, the kids were gathered in groups on the floor, cutting out their best attempts at snowflakes.
pride swelled in your chest and you looked up into the bulk of the tree's leaves, ekko's form flying around in circles with lights being strung along behind him. with fists on your hips, you beam. "i'm amazing," you praise, making your way back inside.
everything came together surprisingly quick. ekko had never seen you that focused—hanging up lights, making paper bows to place at the points where lights held, and placing those big fake presents around the tree. of course, other people helped too, which made the work lighter.
you mostly left the mural alone, only placing a few extra candles and waving to the colorful portraits.
by the time night fell, the project was close to finished. it wasn't perfect, but to you, it was. the entire base was illuminated in warm, white lights, paper snowflakes dangling from the branches and twisting in the wind. the beat in your chest stuttered. it all felt...magical.
*✲゚*。⋆
over the next few weeks, you kept adding and adding to the scene. and it was all finished just in time for today, christmas eve.
by now, you'd forced ekko into so many christmas activities, some more enjoyable than the others. he thoroughly enjoyed making matching pajamas with you and drinking cocoa that was overflowing with marshmallows—being constantly tricked into mistletoe kisses, not so much. at least, he acted like he hated it. he secretly adored accidentally walking right into your trap of a hidden mistletoe and being attacked by an onslaught of messy kisses.
ekko finds you at the balcony again, glancing out into the scene below. "hm. not bad." he leans against the railing, hips bumping into yours.
"yeah, cuz it's awesome. i did that, thank you."
warm lips meet your cold cheek. "mhm. you did." he paused, tongue running over his molars. "i-um...got you something."
you perked up at his words, head whipping around to face him. "ooh, you just reminded me that i have to finish making your gift, i—"
as you're speaking, he pulls a little box from his coat pocket, black with a messy red bow.
"it's not perfect, but...y'know," his voice trails off. he pops the box open and offers it to you.
inside rested a delicate necklace, light reflecting off of the silver metal and glimmering into your eyes. the chain was thin, the links very neatly melded together, and a little circular locket hanging off the center.
you take the box and reach in, mouth agape in awe, gently pushing the locket open. inside was a tiny picture of the two of you, laying in bed, with you sound asleep on his shoulder. ekko's eyes were shut as he was in the middle of pressing a kiss to your forehead.
you smile down at the picture, warmth flooding your chest. for a long moment, you're just staring at it, ekko awaiting your reaction. your lips press together, your vision starts to blur, and a tear rolls down your face and into the velvet lining of the box. then they just kept streaming down.
ekko's face drops, immediately reaching to wipe your tears. "hey, it's okay, if you don't like it i can get you something else."
you hiccup, shaking your head. "shut up, i love it so much, this is just everything i've ever wanted for my whole life, and it's so stupid but you've literally made this the best christmas i've ever had a-and this necklace is really cute and this was so worth doing the dishes—"
you could've kept going but your joyful sobs cut you off. it was all too much, all the decorations and all the traditions you once wished for finally coming into fruition. ekko's arms wrap around you and you return the gesture, fingers twisting into his coat.
"i'd do it again in a heartbeat." he whispers, moving to peck your wet cheek. once, twice, three times.
"boo," a voice calls below you. "get a room."
*✲゚*。⋆
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