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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years ago

Text

Hypothetically,

Ao3, MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Platonic Logince

It is about! Damn! Time! That I wrote some Intrulogical! Also, y’all already know my stance on platonic logince,,,, guys they ARE best friends i’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). mentions of stuff like autopsies and nuclear explosions in the context of like experiments- they do stuff in The Imagination, basically. Panic attack (?). Hurt/comfort. Pretty heated kissing; It’s more intense makin’ out than I usually write but it isn’t anything explicit at all, don’t worry! ADHD Remus and Autistic Logan. Cursing- like So Much Cursing. Mentions of space, deep sea, etc. Food mention.

Word count: 6,769

There was a conundrum.

A., Logan needed to use the Imagination. B., He could not use it on his own, considering that he was Logic. C., Roman was nowhere to be found. The answer to what was frustrating Logan at that moment would be all of the above.

To be clear, he didn’t like going into the Imagination. It was simply the only suitable place to perform his ‘experiments’. His very necessary, very distracting experiments. But, as stated, Roman was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what.

Logan sighed at the door, as though it was the inanimate structure’s fault. The cracks gleamed obnoxiously bright, golden light pouring out from behind the door in a somewhat eerie manner. It was a nonsensical, unrealistic, completely insignificant place, and he wanted in.

Logan was contemplating asking Janus for help (lies took imagination, right?) when, out of nowhere, an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Literally an arm, disembodied and oozing sick-smelling blood onto the carpet. Ah. Wonderful.

“Hello, Remus,” he pulled the appendage from around him, holding it at arm’s length (no pun intended, dammit).

“Hi!” Remus took his arm back and reattached it with a disturbing crunch, a grin stretching his face. He sidled up to Logan, imitating the side’s stance in front of the door.

“Can I help you with something?” the logical trait tilted his shoulder away from where Remus had pressed against him.

“Not unless you’re willing to get really messy- but I can help you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re implying.”

The Duke rolled his eyes, promptly flinging the door to The Imagination open. An encompassing energy radiated into the common room, corrupting the usual neutrality of the space. It didn't last long before Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him along through the entryway, movements as sporadic and fast-paced as everything else about the creative.

“It’s not very logical to just stand there staring at the door all day, in my opinion. I dunno what you need Imagination for, but whatever it is, I can help! My half is much more interesting, anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan blinked, narrowly ducking his head under a branch as he was pulled forward, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He politely didn’t mention that he doubted Remus’ capacity for helpfulness. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

The door from the commons was quite a walk from the darker half of The Imagination, but at the pace its owner had them going they were there in minutes. The border was marked with tangles of densely thorned shrubbery, which parted for them, as if they sensed the approach. Logan just barely avoided snagging his shoe on one as they passed.

There was forest, twisted and shadowy, for only a minute. After that, they were in a city, with tall buildings and winding streets and dark alleys. Another switch, they came into what seemed like an amusement park. Nothing was consistent in theme, and none of the scenes held up for more than a minute or two. Remus shook his head and tisked. With a snap, a good portion of the ever-changing scenery was erased, leaving blank white space. The Duke turned to look at Logan with a satisfied smile.

“Ta-da! What do you need?”

Logan blanched for a moment, surprised at Remus’ willingness to completely delete Imaginings without a second thought. It usually took Roman ages to find a spot that he was okay with giving up on for Logan’s “projects”- which he always had thought was a little silly, seeing as he could bring it back when they were done. The change of pace was a pleasant one, though, so there was no need to dawdle for long.

“I need a miniature fully-functioning model of our solar system. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, totally,” Remus waved his hand and the request appeared suspended in the air, spread out to be the size of a dining table. All was accounted for- sun, moons, eight planets plus pluto- orbiting and spinning around each other. Imagination, by nature, had no real limits, but the detail was still a sight to behold every time. Logic smiled, surveying the set-up, before gesturing to the edge of their blank section.

“Thank you for the help, you may go.”

“May I now?” Remus conjured a seat for himself, staring at Logan with his chin resting on his hands, “You’re not even going to tell me what this is for? That’s just rude.”

Logan glanced up from the tiny earth he was inspecting, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but your brother usually leaves at this point. He says my experiments are-” he summons his notebook, “‘Bore-ifying’, which I assume is a portmanteau for ‘boring’ and ‘horrifying’.”

“Roman’s a big baby!”

Logan shrugged, not disagreeing, and resumed his careful observation of the tiny model earth. Remus made no move to go, wheeling his chair even closer. The scientific side carried on before his new audience of one, hovering a hand over the little planet. Abruptly, it stopped spinning. Logan made a gesture with his hand that magnified the model significantly.

The results were immediately catastrophic. Logan jotted a few observations down in his notebook, watching closely at the ways torrents of wind ripped up trees and buildings. In the back of his mind, he was faintly impressed by just how well-rendered ‘Dark’ Creativity’s earth was, down to the individual humans, brutalized by the storms.

“Whoah, what the fuck?!”

Logan looked up briefly to see Remus craning his head over the destruction of the stilled planet. His eyes were wide and bright with curiosity.

“Oh- I should probably explain. I come here, usually, to run some improbable scenarios as a sort of stress-reliever. Specifically, this one is what would happen if earth stopped spinning on its axis. As you can see, due to the earth no longer rotating at its usual speed, the wind would continue on at-” he cut himself off abruptly, sensing the beginnings of a ramble, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told that I have a tendency to ‘go off’ when a subject particularly interests me.”

Remus rolled his chair even closer, looking much like an excited animal (more so than usual, anyway).

“Well then, go off! Don’t leave me hanging! Is that really what would happen, just if it stopped?” He gestured enthusiastically to the way that the oceans had begun to crash against and consume shorelines. He looked interested- genuinely interested.

Logan bit back a smile. He didn’t have to be told twice.

It was one of those particularly restless nights. For no foreseeable goddamn reason, Logic’s mind had become alight with enough half-formed thoughts and barely sensible ideas to fill a very, very weird book. The Imagination did wonders when he got like this, but it usually wasn’t two in the morning when he needed to use it. That wasn’t to say the circumstance was unheard of, but all times prior he could push the urge to investigate away with the reasoning that he could just ask Roman in the morning, and that the Creative side needed his ‘beauty sleep’, as he called it. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, was there?

Tonight was different. Logan could hear the occasional snap or tear or cackle from the room across from his. Remus’ room.

It had been less than a week since The Duke let him use the darker half of the Mindpalace, and that was pretty much the only meaningful interaction they’d had in as many days. They weren’t close, Logan wasn’t even sure if they were friends (not that he was a good judge of that, given the first time Roman referred to them as ‘besties’ he had all but cried), but Remus was at the very least an option. He was also unlikely to mind, given that he was already awake and had exhibited excitement previously.

Logan made up his mind after yet again failing to fall asleep. Quietly, he opened his door and took the few short steps across the hall, raising his fist. Remus’ door was open before his second knock.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing, coming knocking at this hour?” he didn’t even try to whisper, accompanying his statement with an over-exaggerated wink. Logan didn’t waste his time trying to shush the side.

“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-”

“You know I don’t mind your ‘interruptions’, Twunk-y Megamind!”

“-But I was wondering if you would… Help me, again. I seem to be having a hard time getting to sleep, and I think that getting out some of my ideas could help.”

Remus’ face lit up dramatically.

“Oh hell yes! Are we gonna blow up more planets?”

“Something like that,” he kept his voice monotone, disguising the relief and hint of pride at such a positive reaction.

“Well, come on!”

Logan let himself be dragged into Remus’ room, barely having time to make note of the surprisingly organized layout before he was pulled through a sleek black door.

“But you have to tell me about it,” he ordered, twisting them through narrow paths in his half of The Imagination. Logan suppressed a smile.

“If you want to hear it, then I’m happy to.”

Without warning, they stopped the breakneck pace that Remus moved at. The trait seemed appeased with their surroundings, though as far as Logan could tell it was just another piece of ever-shifting ominous landscape.

Remus snapped his fingers. The scene remained intact.

“Sorry,” he glanced around nervously, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Can’t get ‘em out. I’ll get it, I just-”

“It’s no trouble.”

Logan rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t like using his ‘abilities’ much, as every side had some set of special skills, and all of them were much too ostentatious. But they were helpful, at times. He waved a hand, gesturing carefully so that he didn’t dismantle any more of The Imagination than was absolutely necessary. With a small stutter, the landscape shifted to a blank slate.

When he looked back up, Remus’ expression was not unlike that of a Cheshire cat.

“What was that?”

“I am Logic, therefore it follows that I am the antithesis to any Imagination creations. It’s very easy to erase them with just a bit of rationality.”

“No clue what a lot of those words meant, but it’s still cool that you can destroy shit.”

Laughing was unbecoming, to say the least, and so the logical trait tended to avoid it at all costs. The snort that escaped him was entirely involuntary.

If Remus noticed the noise, he said nothing about it. He was too busy bouncing from foot to foot, expectantly waiting for instructions. Logan cleared his throat of the outburst and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple…”

At his request, Remus would construct immaculately detailed creatures, settings, and models, watching gleefully at the ordeals Logan put each one through. They tested various and progressively elaborate ways to sink populated cruise liners, they simulated the effects of falling from the Empire State Building, dissected approximations of obscure marine animals (a shared special interest of theirs, apparently), and any of the other unrealistic questions that occurred to the typically rational Logic.

The only way to get such questions from his mind, he’d found out a long time ago, was deconstructing them one step at a time, to see them in their full ridiculousness.

It was also, he was coming to realize, incredibly fun.

Before the two knew it, the already late hour had turned unreasonable. Logan blinked owlishly at his watch, distracted from the tiny supernova that he’d created.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time,” four in the morning. Four in the morning!

“Aw, does that mean we’re done?” Remus whined, yet he still began unmaking his small star system.

Logan was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his eyelids and a rubbery feeling in his limbs. God, was he tired.

“I’m afraid so. I really should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.”

“Fine,” Remus dragged the word out with a groan, “But let me know next time you wanna fuck with space, or deep sea stuff, or anything like that.”

Next time.

As much as Logan adored Roman, there was something very nice about having the more grim brother help him out with these experiments. For one, his creations were often much more accurate to the real world- likely because gore and destruction were that much more impactful when they were realistic. For two, he actually seemed to enjoy the work.

Logan’s deliberation was brief.

“I will.”

As it happened, the night spent delving into dozens of ideas had purged Logan’s need to use The Imagination, for the time being. Clearly, Remus was not patient enough to wait for him.

He popped up, unannounced, in Logic’s room.

“Lo!!!”

The trait in question fell out of his office chair in a very undignified way. Not that there’s a particularly dignified way to fall out of a chair, but if there was, this definitely wouldn’t have been it. He ‘ate shit’, as the saying goes.

Out of pure embarrassment, Logan made no move to get off the floor.

“Hello, Remus,” he greeted, “How may I help you?”

The Duke laughed raucously, sprawling into the now-unoccupied chair and leaning over him.

“You’re a riot, Dork,” then, added with glittering eyes, “Did you break anything?”

“No. Given that I am metaphysical, I’m not sure that I have bones.”

“I have bones!”

“Are they your bones?”

“They are bones and they are in my possession, yes.”

Logan let the subject drop and repeated his first question.

“Right, I forgot! I have an idea for an experiment!”

Logan thought that, despite his mild humiliation, it would probably benefit the conversation if he wasn’t lying on the ground, so he stopped doing that. Brushing mostly imaginary dust from his clothes, he shot Remus a bemused look.

“That’s nice. But I was asking you why you were here.”

The Duke’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.

“I thought you’d wanna know, because of what you said last time. Isn’t this, like, a thing we do now? You know how shit works, and I know how to make that shit, and then you can tell me about it!”

Oh.

“Remember when you were talking about radiation the other day? You can’t just say stuff like that and then not expect me to want to try it out, so really this is on you. It’d be dumb not to let you in on it.”

Oh.

He’d been listening to that rant? Moreover, he’d remembered it, and now had his own ideas and follow-up questions about it?

Logan felt light-headed.

“You’re probably too busy with work, huh? I guess my explosions don't have to be accurate, if you’re set on being boring,” Remus’ tone was nonchalant, but he was obviously lingering for attention. Logan then remembered that words are a thing, and people use them to communicate.

“No! I mean, yes- I mean, I’m not busy. I can join you, I- I’d like to, even,” the intelligent side heard a small voice in his head, his own miniature Virgil, screaming- what the fuck was that, get it together, Jesus, because he, despite what his fellow sides insisted, was absolutely nonfunctional when trying to form a friendship.

Remus didn’t seem to notice or care much past his own cheer.

“Cool!” he, yet again, wasted no time in seizing Logan’s arm and yanking him away, “I wanted to see what would happen to animals and plants and stuff bunches of years after lots of radiation! Do you think they’d mutate? Get all twisted and fucked up so that they aren’t even recognizable as, say, a dog?”

Logan considered the question as he was led through the Mindpalace.

“Well, nothing would be able to live there at all. Additionally, anything within a little under a mile of the nuclear fallout- depending on a few variables- would be completely incinerated upon impact.”

“Like, flesh-melting incinerated?”

“More like vaporized. The fireball would burn 10,000 times the heat of the sun.”

Remus went starry eyed, bringing them to a halt a mere five feet from the door.

“I wanna see that,” he waved his hands around at their surroundings, “Can you do the white-out thing?”

Logan, much less hesitant than last time, obliged. A small smile escaped him at the wondrous look on The Duke’s face. It was another form of expression he didn’t particularly care for, but containing his emoting was more trouble than it was worth by now. He couldn’t find it in him to care much either, for once.

“Where do we start?” Remus prompted.

“You tell me. I will help you make it as accurate as possible, and provide any insight that you want, but it is your idea,” and he wanted to hear more about those ideas. Odd and violent, mesmerizing and clever. There was so much that he wanted to hear about, to talk about, to puzzle out together.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to share such interests with. Maybe, despite how deeply he cared for his ‘family’, as Patton called them- maybe it was never.

Remus chattered as he worked, disrupting the train of thought. Logan almost tuned it out- after all, everyone had grown perfectly used to The Duke’s rambling- but he caught himself. That was hardly how he should treat the side that was so strangely considerate to him, wasn’t it?

Logan listened from then on. He began to add on to the conversation, corrections and elaborations and actual questions, because he actually didn’t know some of it. He didn’t regret the choice.

By the end, Remus and Logan were sitting together in the smoldering ruins of their make-believe test town, exchanging notes for different variables they could use in the next trial. They only stopped when Logan was abruptly summoned away by Thomas. He excused himself, a bit apologetic, promising to visit again soon.

As he helped Thomas (with what really should have been a simple task, honestly), Logic wondered briefly about the origins of the hollow feeling that grew in his chest. Something distracted, longing, and unfamiliar.

And then the oven caught fire, and the only thing he felt was annoyance with the man that he was somehow a component of.

So, that was that- Logan and Remus were friends, now spent regular time together, and shared interests. By all accounts, it was a simple and obviously positive development.

But then there was Roman.

“What’s wrong with my work? You’d really prefer whatever edgy 12-year-old DeviantArt account nonsense that he thinks up?”

Logan set his book down with a sigh and looked over to his doorway, where Roman stood with his hands on his hips.

“Come in, Roman, and thank you for knocking,” he snarked. The Creative side made a vaguely sassy noise, trotting right in and flopping backwards onto the bed. Without closing the door, the monster.

“I thought that building your Weird Science contraptions was our thing.”

Logan made a show of standing up and manually shutting his door before responding.

“You don’t like my ‘contraptions’, as you call them.”

“Yeah, but I still made them for you! Because we’re friends, but I suppose you’ve forgotten all about that!”

He really should have expected the melodrama. And yet, Logan had lived in a delusional world where he didn’t care about the most Extra being on earth.

With an eye roll, Logic dropped down beside Roman on the bed- though he wasn’t half as flamboyant about it.

“I can have more than one friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be your favorite! We’re supposed to hang out together! Do the friendship bracelets I made mean nothing to you?”

He flung his arm across Logan’s chest, a ‘friendship bracelet’ clearly visible on his wrist (a loose usage of the term, given that it was a solid gold band with inlaid sapphires, because of course it was).

Logan held up his arm as well, showing that his (silver with inlaid rubies) was still very much in use, despite his distaste for jewelry.

“We hang out plenty. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings by spending time with your brother. My reason for doing so is that he seems to take active enjoyment in building and learning about these things with me. He also makes very good conversation, in regards to the more, ah, eccentric experiments.”

Roman tossed his head to the side to watch Logan with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he linked their arms at the elbow.

“Yeah, you would think that. You’re secretly just as much of a weirdo as him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh please, I can barely keep up with a word that either of you say,” Roman headbutted Logan’s shoulder in what was likely another of his odd displays of affection. He let his head rest there for a minute, a rare instance of peace before he inevitably resumed talking.

“Anyways-”

“Anyway,” Logan corrected.

“Anyways, if you nerds wanna talk about your weird, creepy experiments, then I guess that’s fine. But he isn’t allowed to co-opt anything else that we do together that we both actually like- no making fun of movies together, no Crofters jams, and no poetry-slash-rap battles.”

“Of course not, Roman. You will always be my favorite person to disagree with.”

“Love you, too,” Creativity bumped him again, then sat up to stretch. Logan snorted a laugh and considered shoving Roman off the bed, watching as he raised his arms up and straightened his back. Before the trait had the chance, unfortunately, his friend was already standing.

“Leaving already? Weren’t you just going on about spending time together?”

“Nah, that was all I wanted to yell at you about for now. I’ve gotta go help Pat with dinner.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

Halfway out the door, Roman threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, and whatever you two end up doing, do not give me the details. Please.”

Okay, finally, that really was that. Friendship established, blessings given, the end. A simple symbiosis.

Logan was thinking about the practical uses of medieval torture devices? Remus. He wanted to see exactly how long it would take your average healthy adult to succumb to drowning? Remus. Logan wanted to just rant, about anything and everything, his brain moving a mile a minute? Remus. They spent an inordinate amount of time together.

Occasionally, when he didn’t even have the energy to converse, he would sit down with a book in the commons when he knew Remus was there and let the trait’s never ending word-vomit wash over him. It was an odd sort of intimacy, but that fit within the theme of their dynamic. Like he said, simple symbiosis.

And that was when the not-very-platonic fondness grew. And Logan, to his own surprise, allowed it to.

After deep consideration he had seen no reason not to; Remus wouldn’t judge him, not ever. It put a name to the hollow longing that occurred whenever he, eventually, had to get back to work and part from their talks.

He hadn’t sorted out what to do about the feeling yet, but he felt no urgency.

Logan’s book lay forgotten in his lap, that morning being one of the quiet ones as he reflected on his unfamiliar emotions. It was almost nice, letting such affection curl up in his chest and settle there.

His contemplation was broken by a sharp jab to his shoulder.

“Are you listening to me?”

He tilted his head at Remus.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” his eyes lit up, very obviously hoping for it to be something disgusting. Logan glanced away, given that he didn’t even like eye-contact in the best of circumstances.

“Nothing important. You have my attention now.”

Remus rolled his eyes with a huff, apparently genuinely irritated.

“Well now I forgot what I was saying.”

“Let’s backtrack: what were you talking about before?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, we can talk about something else.”

The irritation had grown to something unrecognizable to Logan- frustrating, given how closely he tried to study body language. He felt a stab of guilt as Remus stood up from his spot.

“It probably didn’t matter. I’m gonna go annoy Janus.”

“Oh,” Logan’s voice was small, “Alright, then.”

He was already gone.

That was… concerning. Not to mention bewildering; Remus didn’t just pass up opportunities to talk! He didn’t just leave, not even when he wasn’t wanted! Logan really hadn’t thought his zoning out would earn such a reaction.

But he was far from perceptive about emotional problems. There was no way to know if it was anything to throw a fit over. For all he knew, it was just an off-day. He couldn’t always expect his friend to be rambunctious and energetic, even if that was a big part of his personality.

The issue would likely resolve itself.

The issue did not do that. It did the polar opposite, speeding from mildly concerning to downright frightening at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Remus barely asked questions and almost never offered insight, as he usually did when they spent time together. In fact, his contributions had become rare and unenthusiastic enough that he could have passed as neurotypical, however disturbing the thought was. And that was when they did end up spending time together, which was becoming less and less often, much to the dismay of one significantly smitten smart side.

Something was very clearly wrong with Remus. Not the demented, destructive, mildly endearing and unhinged sort of wrong. It was the wrong sort of wrong.

Logan was hesitant to confront him outright. After a couple weeks of careful consideration, a more subtle solution occurred to him, as he idly flipped through a very graphic murder-mystery late into the night. Something bloody, and awful, and very much Remus’ taste. He set the novel down, knowing full well that his friend would be wide awake as he made his way across the hall.

“Remus?” he knocked at the side’s door, wearing a smile much wider than he usually liked. He was more than willing to express exuberance, if there was even the slightest chance that it would be infectious.

The door decidedly did not fly open. Rather, after a good deal of wrapping at it, Remus slowly pulled it back and poked his head out.

“Oh. Hey.”

Logan didn't dwell on the concern that reaction brought. He had something that would cheer Creativity up, of that he was sure.

“I have a test tonight- it’s going to be very messy,” he began, searching the impulsive trait’s eyes for any signs of interest. There was the slightest glint, but not much more.

“So, you want me to make stuff for you?” His speech was monotonous.

“Yes, that was the idea. It’s going to be gory.”

Hardly a reaction. All Remus did was open the door the rest of the way to allow Logan inside. Clearly, he had underestimated just how poorly his friend felt.

“Alright, I’ll set it up for you. Just don’t take too long, I was actually hoping to use my part of the Mindscape today.”

Logan nodded, very taken aback. He couldn’t ignore the slight hurt at the cold, dismissive tone (the irony of that wasn’t lost on him).

They stepped foot into The Imagination and immediately Remus stopped, destroying whatever had been in front of them- which was usually fine, it was just how he operated, but normally out of enthusiasm, not apathy. Maybe this was more than could be fixed with some blood and guts.

“What do you need?”

Logan conjured a tiny notebook, giving a tentative smile. Still, he was giving this plan a shot.

“Operating table,” one appeared before him, sleek metal with rolly legs, “A standard set of surgical tools,” he looked up to gauge Remus’ interest, but his expression still hadn’t changed as he continued to create, “A human corpse, and then we can get started.”

With a wave, a perfectly generic body fell onto the table, but Logan’s attention remained on The Duke.

“Great, have fun, let me know when you’re finished.”

Logan faltered, watching him turn to leave.

“You- you aren’t going to stay and do this with me?”

“You want me to?” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Logan with a gaze that could (figuratively) wilt flowers.

“I- Yes? If you aren’t at all interested right now, then I can save this experiment for another day?” Yeah, this wasn’t working, but Logan had no backup.

“No, no, don’t wait for me, you’ve already got everything you need, right?”

“I mean- technically, yes, but it- it wouldn’t be the same.”

Remus cackled, sounding quite like the cartoonish villain that he often acted as. It hurt to listen to.

“So that’s what this is about! Let me just fix you up, then!”

He snapped, and a blank humanoid form appeared at his side. It tilted its faceless head curiously at Logan, who recoiled.

“Not good enough? Is a hunk of nothing too unrealistic for you?” he snapped again, and the being suddenly transformed to match its creator exactly.

Nearly exactly: it wore an enthusiastic grin, eyes wide and sparkling, rather than the steadily building fire that raged in real-Remus’ eyes. It spoke in a disgustingly cheery tone.

“Wow, tell me more! Show me that again? What happens when you do that? You’re just so interesting, Lo!”

Remus watched the creation, a look of one part pride and a million parts resentment.

“Is that what you want? It’s just like me, but without any of the hassle of being another person that you have to deal with! And this one, you really can get rid of whenever you want, isn’t that great?”

Logan looked between the two, a fearful understanding creeping up his spine. There was something he was missing here, wasn’t there?

“No,” he muttered, half to the fake-Duke and half to the real one.

“No?” Remus spat, circling his mirror, “No, of course, you’re so right. This isn’t nearly enough.”

He made an elaborate gesture, and about a dozen more Creativities appeared, surrounding them. Logan stumbled back from them, nearly tripping on the operating table that they’d previously made. When he looked up, the real Remus was approaching him with an expression that fought its way between guilt and indignation. It was all at once heart-wrenching and frightening.

Logan tried to right himself, tried to look unaffected and certain of himself, as he raised his voice. He would not let this go a step farther, despite his confusion.

“Stop,” and with that, a wave rocked across The Imagination, and all was erased. In the aftermath he stood before a teary-eyed Remus (just the one, though), uncharacteristically looking like a stiff wind would knock him right over.

“What’s wrong? I gave you what you wanted!”

Logan reeled.

“Why would you think I wanted any of that?”

“You wanted an experiment, I gave you one! You wanted a willing audience, I gave you twelve! But I guess I just get everything wrong, right?”

“You know that isn’t true,” Logan felt choked, his words clumsy. It was foreign and horrible and disgusting, but he’d trudge through it all if it meant fixing whatever he’d done wrong. It couldn’t have just been him losing focus once? Could it?

“Oh, of course, I do just enough to be useful. So I’ve got that right; I’m a good utensil. Is it so much to ask that people would care about me, not just what I can do?” he posed a rhetorical oozing with vitriol, but it quickly evaporated into something much more desperate, “What if it’s my fault? It was my idea, I wanted to help. I don’t know why I thought you’d care past all that, did I give you a reason to? I can��t remember. It might make more sense that way, if I were the problem, wouldn’t it?”

Logan was running out of time to fix this, watching Remus curl in on himself, barely keeping from falling to the floor. He had no clue how The Duke had reached the conclusion that he didn’t care about him! They spent nearly all their free time together: sitting next to each other just to have the company, throwing each other tricky and often troubling questions to answer, constantly toiling away at things in The Imagination. Sometimes, they didn’t even need to talk, they just worked together in rapt silence; Remus did the creating and Logan arranged his work just so, and- Wait. Wait. Wait.

Logan didn’t need to talk, or touch, for that matter. Perhaps it was a mistake to presume the same for such a needy, affectionate, boisterous side?

No, not perhaps, it was a huge mistake. A major fuck-up, if you will.

He’d thought, if the blunt side had needed such comforts, surely he would initiate it? He hardly shied away from anything, except, well.

Except. Feelings.

God, he was the dumbest smart person in the world.

“Oh, Remus…”

The Duke’s head jerked up, continuing his back-and-forth of desperation and rage.

“I don't need your pity!”

Logan sighed, twisting the end of his tie in frustration.

“That isn't what I'm offering,” he took a breath before continuing, linking the words together so it would come out right. “I'm so sorry, I didn't take into account how you would interpret our interactions. I thought it was obvious that I cared for you, that I didn't need to say it outright. Clearly… I was wrong. So, if you need more than what I previously expressed- which I'm now realizing was very little in the eyes of someone who is not me- then I am happy to provide that for you.”

Remus was shaken, a good deal of his ire slipping away. Whether that was good or bad remained unclear.

Before it could be overthought, Logan crossed the remaining few feet between them and brought his arms around The Duke in his loose approximation of a hug. The trait froze, but he didn't pull away.

Physical affection, check.

“I value your companionship more than I'm entirely sure how to verbalize. You understand me in a way that most others don’t seem to. While your ability to make detailed creations is very helpful, it is hardly the only thing I appreciate about you.

“For one, you make me laugh. A lot. More than I'm used to. Additionally, you can easily match the pace with which I speak, or change topics! And, you are so much smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Logan finished the spiel with a smile, genuinely proud at his ability to articulate such… sentimental things, with relative ease. Words of affirmation, check.

He snapped back to attention when Remus brought shaking hands up to Logan's chest. For a moment, he worried that Remus would shove him away. The fears dissipated when all he did was bunch the front of Logan's shirt in his hands and hold on tight.

“Do you mean that,” his volume was low, “Or do you just want me to calm down?”

Logan tightened his grip around him and, following a motion that he'd seen Patton employ many times to great success, he rubbed up and down his back.

“I understand that it might be hard for you to trust me, but I promise I'm not lying to you. I would have to be pretty awful to do something like that, wouldn't I?”

Hesitantly, Remus nodded against his collar. A good sign, but there was one thing left he had to say.

“And- If you need further convincing- then you should know. I love you.”

Remus stilled. He then unfisted his hands from Logan's shirt. It was an anticipatory second before he threw his arms around the logical trait and finally returned the hug. His hold was crushing, and it was the most comforting thing that Logan had ever felt.

They were okay.

“I'm sorry I-”

Logan didn’t let him finish the apology.

“Don't be. You didn't know how I felt, because I hadn't communicated it in a way you understood. That is hardly your fault.”

Remus nodded again, remaining much quieter than he’d probably ever been in his entire existence.

They held each other for longer than either would like to admit, speaking softly.

“Thanks,” was muttered against Logan’s shoulder.

“Of course. Just so you know, I'm more than willing to do this again whenever you need reassurance.”

“It might be a lot,” his tone was turning more mischievous, more him, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan hardly minded having an opportunity to gush about Remus to Remus. Not to mention, the physical affection was even nicer than he'd imagined it being. And oh, had he imagined it.

Remus' face returned to his usual ever-present zeal, and he ended their hug to bounce in place.

“Great! I'm good now! We can get on with that autopsy you wanted to show me- there better be buckets of blood!”

Logan shifted his weight.

“Maybe we should save that for another day.”

“Oh,” Remus' face fell the smallest bit, “Okay.”

Logan was quick to amend:

“By that I mean, I have something better in mind.”

Remus curled himself up in Logan’s lap, his eyes barely focused on the TV as the side carded his hands through his tangled mop of hair. Final Destination 3 played on the television (he had assured Logan that they didn't need to see the first two, and he was mostly right), serving as an excuse for the two to drink in each other's company.

It was right in the middle of a particularly graphic rollercoaster scene that Remus took Logan's hands from his hair to hold them, twisting around to face him.

“Is something wrong, Remus?”

“You told me you loved me,” he stated blankly.

“Yes, I did.”

“I didn't say it back!”

“No, you didn't,” it hadn't been the most important matter at the time, really. “You don't have to say it. It's perfectly okay if you don't feel the s- Mmph!”

Remus smashed their lips together, holding the sides of Logan's face (disrupting his glasses in the process) and pulling him forward harshly.

Logan, for less than a second, was floored. And then Remus tilted his head to deepen the already heated kiss, and the situation properly clicked. Logan reciprocated, slightly uncertain in his movements, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist.

Remus smiled against him. He nipped at Logan's lower lip with sharpened teeth, eliciting a very embarrassing yelp. Logic let his lips part in response as his thoughts grew fuzzier by the second.

The (somewhat clumsy) open-mouthed kiss lasted right until they absolutely had to break, separating for air. Neither moved very far, letting their foreheads rest against each other and all but panting for breath.

“I love you so fuckin' much, nerd,” when Remus spoke, their lips brushed ever so slightly, “Just so you know.”

“I picked up on that, yes.”

“A little clarity never hurts, right?”

Logan chuckled at the reference to his own sentiments, but the sound was abruptly cut off when Remus kissed him properly again.

When they broke apart, he explained how 'stupid-cute' that laugh was. And Logan, only half-joking (since when did he joke at all?), said that he’d have to do it more often.

Banter came easily to them, despite the raw undercurrent that still laced their conversation. Although, neither of them had ever found it difficult to talk; talk about the first thing that came to mind and the last thing that would come to anyone’s mind, talk about exceedingly simple nonsense and topics so intricate that they wound up sounding like nonsense, just talk.

So things would stay mostly the same. They would ramble to each other when no one else could stand to hear such disturbing things. They would sit, working side by side, running through plans and ideas and results at rapid-paced speech. They’d speak, and they would listen, when even their closest friends couldn’t manage such patience.

Only now, sometimes the rushed words might turn soft. Now, all that ranting might be more substantial than anyone would at first see. Now, they’d still listen, but leaned close together, gazes impossibly fond.

But then, on occasion, they would find that there were things far more fun than talking to do together.

@shrimp-crockpot

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tirednerd2012 · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe one where Ian and Barley have been kidnapped and they want to hurt Barley, but Ian offers himself in Barley's place so they take him instead? And while they're hurting Ian, Barley breaks free and has to go save him? (I know you've written a lot already, though, so if you want to you can delete this post.)

WARNING: Abusive relationship mentioned.

First off, I will never delete any requests unless it involves something that truly makes me uncomfortable. I'm recovering from some hospital time and I'm bored, so I really don't mind. If anything this is helping me go to sleep. I enjoyed writing this one, though! This AU character I've been working on for a minute for a different series I was thinking about uploading. I was thinking about a quest, but this one came a little easier for me to write. I hope you like it, but if you would like it changed, let me know!

Dammit, Barley thought, as he woke up with a splitting headache. When he tried to get up, he realized he was tied up. That woke him right up and he heard a groaning beside him. Ian.

He looked over and saw his little brother's forehead bleeding slightly. He tried to break free from the ropes, but couldn't. What the hell was going on? What happened last?

"Ian, are you okay?" he asked, but only got another groan. "I'll get us out of here, don't worry."

"I wouldn't be sure about that," a familiar voice said and Barley's blood ran cold. Drew. They broke up about a month prior because Drew wasn't just jealous and controlling, he was dangerous. He would hit Barley when they were arguing, threatened him, did anything to make him feel like Drew had dominance. Barley started to wonder if his mom and brother were safe when his boyfriend was around, and he knew he had to shut that down. He still had nightmares of Drew's hands on his neck when they were fighting one day and Barley was too drunk to defend himself. He hadn't drank since.

Drew was taller than Barley, but not quite as burly as him. Though he didn't look it, he was strong. He could easily overpower Barley when they fought. His dark hair was rare for an elf, and it was one of the things Barley found attractive at the beginning of their relationship.

He should have known this would come back and bite him in the ass.

"Drew, what are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. His ex came down from the stairs. A basement, Barley realized. They were definitely in a basement.

"I told you, you can't just leave me. You don't get to decide that," Drew snapped. He picked up his knife from the table nearby and put it to Barley's throat. He tried to hide his terror, but he knew he was probably failing.

Him and Ian had been driving in the van. He remembered a crash, but that was it. Did this guy hit them?

"What do you want?"

"For you to suffer, Barley. I tried to give you another chance, but you've tied my hands. I don't know when you thought you had any say so in us, but you didn't. You are nothing. You don't get to chose who loves you," Drew sneered.

"Leave him alone, you jerk," Ian snapped. When did he wake up?

"Ian," Barley said. He never liked Drew, another reason Barley had to end the relationship. He trusted his brother more than anyone.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ian. Truthfully, I had no idea you were in that van, too, but hey, work with what you have, right?" Drew laughs. His attention turned back to Barley, looking at him with cold, blue eyes that sent a chill down the oldest Lightfoot's spine.

Barley told himself this is how he would die.

"Now, Barley, as I was saying, you need to learn a lesson," Drew said, but before he could cut Barley, Ian's voice cut through everything.

"Leave him alone!" Barley never heard such confidence from Ian before. Drew turned away from Barley and focused his attention to his little brother.

"Wow, Ian, never expected this from you. Tell me, what is your goal here? Why should I spare him after everything he did?" Drew asked.

"Because," Ian paused, as if desperately trying to think of anything to save his brother, "because you can do whatever you planned on doing to him to me instead."

"Ian, no! Stop!" Barley ordered, but it was too late.

Drew's eyes fixated on his brother, then back at him. He saw the panic in his eyes. Anyone who knew Barley knew he loved his brother and mother more than anything in the world. He would take any physical punishment over something happening to Ian. And he wasn't in a position where he could act as the protector.

"You know, Ian, for a bright kid, you sure are stupid. But, we can have some fun," Drew said, finally. He cut Ian free, but before he could do anything, he grabbed a fistful of his hair and looked at Barley. "Enjoy your brother's screams, love."

"I'm going to kill you," Barley snapped. His fear faded away and was replaced with anger. He looked at Drew like the most disgusting thing in the world. "Leave him out of this."

"Where's the fun in that?" Drew teased, and then proceeded to drag Ian up the stairs. His brother tried his hardest not to show any sign of pain or weakness, but Barley could feel it anyway. It seemed like the moment that door shut, wherever they were filled with Ian's screams.

"Ian! Ian!" he called over and over. He felt tears pouring down his face, but he didn't care. Ian was in danger. He had taken Barley's punishment. He was paying for a stupid mistake Barley made. He never should have gotten with Drew. It was a fling that turned into something poisonous and deadly.

He continued to struggle with the ropes. He was so angry he felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins and he slammed his body against the other side, trying to break free. He would kill Drew.

He heard Ian cry out again and tell Drew to get the hell off him. He heard Drew tell Ian that he should prepare himself because he was just getting started.

Why the hell did he have to take Barley's place? The older looked around the room once more and noticed that Drew left some tools on the table. He probably planned on torturing Barley right here, but saw the opportunity to take Ian from him and knew that would be the worst punishment.

He managed to pull the table forward with his foot and then had to struggle and get a pair of scissors in his hand. It took awhile and Ian cried out more. Drew yelled from upstairs that he was worried about Ian losing blood. He heard him tell Ian to scream all he wanted, no one was around to save him.

"You're going to die alone and then I'm going to let your brother see what I've done. I'll tell him everything right before I kill him slower than I've killed you. I want him to relish your death," Drew said once Ian went quiet. Barley's heart raced faster and he managed to cut the rope. He grabbed the scissors and ran up the stairs. The door was locked, but he busted it down no problem. He saw Drew and Ian in a living room. Ian was covered in blood. His flannel had been taken off and revealed cuts along his body. His jeans were torn and soaked with red.

But Ian was alive. He still managed to set up, but Drew yanked him up and held the knife to his throat. He glared at Barley.

"I told you that you didn't get to leave me," he warned.

"Just leave Ian out of this. Let him go. I'll stay if that's what you want. We can be together again, just leave him alone," Barley said. He would stay here forever if it meant saving Ian's life. All he needed to do was get to the van. He had nectar from a healing flower there. He and Ian grabbed it a few weeks ago during a quest and agreed to save it for an emergency.

"You really are useless, huh? You're a shit son and horrible boyfriend and the one person left in this world that loves you and even admires you, you've failed to protect," Drew said. "I could kill him right now, you know that right? I could slit his throat and that would be that. He would be gone. Could you live with that?"

"You know the answer."

"Exactly. Yet I've been up here, putting a scar on his body for each time you rejected me," Drew said, running the knife along Ian's throat. He was barely awake and couldn't even look at Barley. The older felt like he could be sick. He wanted nothing more than to pull Ian out of this nightmare.

"Drew, please. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," Barley said. He resisted the urge to bring the scissors out of his pocket.

"You'd be willing to stay here to save him?"

"Yes."

Drew dropped Ian. His abuser for months on end, who manipulated him into doing things he didn't want to, who beat him on multiple occasions, who made him feel like he was absolutely nothing, approached him. For a moment, Barley felt paralyzed. Drew walked over and kissed Barley.

He looked over at Ian and again, his fear turned to rage. Within a moment that Barley found to be a blur, he brought the scissors out and stabbed his ex in the chest. He watched his eyes widen with horror and he collapsed. Then he ran to Ian.

His brother was barely breathing.

"Ian? Ian?" he shook his shoulder. The youngest opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of his brother physically unharmed.

"Barley, are you okay?"

"Really? You're worried about me?" Barley asked through the tears. Ian had been around him too long. He lifted him in his arms and got him outside. Drew towed the van with his old truck. He knew damn well Drew thought this plan out. He wanted to be sure no one knew the boys were missing. He got him to the edge of the van and cried in relief when he found the nectar in the jar without a scratch.

He kneeled beside Ian and forced him to drink. Then he held on to him, whispering how much he loved him, how brave he was and that everything was okay. After a few minutes, the wounds healed, but left several scars that Barley imagined would either be there for awhile or the rest of Ian's life.

"Barley?" the younger asked. Barley cried and hugged him again. "I'm so sorry, I just- I wanted you to be okay."

"You scared me, why would you do that?"

"I love you. I get you want to protect me, but I don't want anything to happen to you either. Especially that guy, I mean, I just wanted him away from you. I didn't care if that meant I got hurt."

"Ian, in all seriousness," Barley said, "never take my place like that again."

"Barley."

"No. I can handle a lot, okay? I can take pain, I'll get through it one way or another. But what I can't handle is someone taking you from me; I can't handle losing you," Barley cut in, his voice betraying him and cracking at the last part. He placed his hands on his shoulders. Both of them still had tears in their eyes. "I-I thought I lost you. I was so scared."

"I know what Drew did to you, Barley. I couldn't let that happen again. If the roles were reversed, we both know you would have done the same."

He pulled his brother into a tight hug. He placed a hand in his hair and held him close.

"All that matters is you're safe. He can't hurt you again."

Barley made himself a promise that he would never let anything hurt Ian again.

#barley lightfoot #ian lightfoot #onward #onward pixar #ian #barley

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august-anon · 5 years ago

Text

LERning New Things About Ourselves -- Pineapple’s Fics!

Note From August: With Pineapple taking a break from tumblr until she’s an adult, I will be hosting her fic on my blog for the time being. You can find them under tags like pineapple fics and pineapple writing. Once she is back, they will be deleted from my blog and reposted to her own. Thanks for being understanding to her during this time! Don’t forget to show her your love!

Word Count: 9111 words

Characters: lee!Virgil, ler!Roman

--------------------------------------

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the maliciously coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started on that fateful day when Virgil Anthony decided to post an ad for a new roommate. His previous roommates, Patton and Logan each got married and moved away, leaving Virgil with an empty apartment and no friends.

He was surprisingly content with that reality had it not been for a silly little thing called “rent” that incessantly found itself worming its way into Virgil’s life, and grew impressively large throughout the months. So, deciding he wished to eat this month, he begrudgingly settled on posting a chipper little advertisement on their community college’s website requesting a new roommate, provided they could come up with $450 a month. Weeks passed by and he was starting to lose hope until finally, he got a reply. After a quick online interview, he found himself with a new roommate. Before Virgil knew it, it was moving day.

And that was when he met Roman Prince. Roman was… eccentric.. to say the least, but despite their slightly awkward interview, Virgil knew he was the one. And maybe it helped that he made twice what Virgil made in a week, and brought with him a flatscreen TV and a Switch. Just a little.

“Ahh! Hello!” greeted the man as he set down his suitcase on the steps leading to the apartment. “You must be Virgil!” He stuck out the newly freed hand to shake Virgil’s. Virgil accepted.

“Hey, dude. Yeah, and you must be Roman,” he acknowledged with a smile. “Do you need help with your stuff?”

Roman waved his hand. “Nah, a couple of buddies of mine are coming by later to help me. For now, it’s just me and my suitcase,” he answered, pointing to the suitcase he left by the staircase. Virgil nodded.

“Okay, cool. Well, why don’t you come in, and we can chat.” Virgil wrung his hands slightly as he spoke, his nerves lit up from the social anxiety. He was trying his best to be friendly and not scare this guy off. Fortunately, Roman seemed to do most of the talking for the both of them. Only a couple hours in, the two found themselves seated on the sofa, sipping wine, and getting to know each other. Well, it was mostly Virgil getting to know Roman.

“So, how long have you lived in Cheyenne?” Virgil asked him.

“About three years now! We moved right after I graduated highschool, my parents grew up here, and I decided to go to college here too,” he answered, pointing to the east side of the apartment in the direction of the community college.

Virgil smiled. “That’s nice you all can live in the same area. You get along with your family well, I take it?”

Roman bobbed his head. “Oh yeah. I’m an only child, and it’s safe to say they spoiled me,” he chuckled, and Virgil joined him. Roman shrugged, smiling wryly. “I mean, I’m sure you figured that out considering no sibling should ever feel this confident,” he joked.

Virgil snickered. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Coming from a kid with three older brothers, I know.” He poured some more red wine into both of their glasses. “So, where do you work?” he inquired, ignoring the urge to ask where he makes so much money,

“I work at the bar across the street, Rattlesnake Juice Bar. I’m the manager,” Roman said, bringing the glass up to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Wow, that’s impressive! Normally at twenty-one, employers don't offer management positions at bars,” commented Virgil, sipping his own drink. Roman swallowed his drink and shrugged.

“I guess it was because I had some experience, you know? I’ve been in management since I was seventeen.” Virgil nodded his head with a smile.

“Yeah, that’d do it,” he chuckled. Virgil shifted so he sat on his knees. “So, are you going to do management for a major?” he asked.

Roman shook his head. “No, actually, although it’d probably be a better career plan. Instead, I’m majoring in Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing.” Virgil brought the glass up to his lips, preparing to drink again.

“Oh wow, that’s cool. What do you like to write?”

“Tickle fanfiction.”

Virgil coughed violently, and spit the wine he just had in his mouth onto his shirt. Roman’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, oh my gosh, are you alright?” he asked, hurriedly grabbing paper towels and handing them to the still sputtering man. Virgil snapped back to reality and finally noticed the spill.

“Oh, for heavens’ sake-“ he muttered, graciously accepting the towels and dabbing at his shirt. Roman furrowed his eyebrows as he helped Virgil clean up.

“Are you alright?” he asked again, his voice laced in genuine concern. Virgil looked up at him for a moment and examined his eyes for any signs of malfeasance. Nothing.

“Um, yeah, I-“ he coughed again, his cheeks turning a light pink. “Yeah, I just, you know, went down the wrong pipe,” he stuttered, gesturing vaguely to his throat. Roman nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, that happens to me all the time. Are you sure you’re good?”

Virgil nodded a bit too earnestly as he got up to go throw away the wine-soaked paper towels. Once safely in the kitchen, he refocused his breathing and tried to calm his beating heart. It was a good thing too, because as soon as he returned, Roman continued the conversation right back up where it had left off.

Virgil barely had time to sit down before Roman began speaking again. “Yeah, so anyways, back to our conversation, I write tickle fanfiction,” he explained with a smile. “It’s super fun. I have quite the following on Tumblr too! Over three hundred followers and they're growing by the minute!” Roman raved. Virgil just started in utter disbelief.

“Oh, well. That’s, uh, cool.”

Roman’s face lit up in excitement. “I take it you know what tickle fanfiction is?” he asked eagerly.

Virgil’s face heated to a thousand degrees. “No! I-I mean, no, not really. I just, I was being supportive. Yeah.” Virgil cringed at how painfully obvious he was being. This guy had to know his slip up. At least he clearly didn’t have to worry about being judged with Roman. But alarmingly, Roman actually appeared to believe him.

“Oh! Well, it’s the coolest thing. Basically-“ he paused for a moment. “Hm, actually, I guess the best way to explain is to start at the very beginning!”

And there Virgil sat, for an entire hour, as he listened to Roman in great explicit detail explain every aspect of the fixation of tickling, the community he was in, and everything he wrote about without a single stutter or slip up. And Virgil listened the whole way through, flinching at the subconscious wiggling of fingers as Roman discussed teases, and thanking whoever the genius inventor of foundation was, for it was the only thing keeping him from blinding his new roommate with the power of his flush as Roman described lees and lers.

Virgil also found out that apparently Roman was a ler. How…interesting.

Finally, mercifully, Roman stopped talking. “Oh goodness,” he laughed. “I’ve been talking for almost an hour, haven’t I!”

Exactly fifty-six minutes, thought Virgil.

“Sorry, I just get really excited and passionate about tickling and writing! Writing is my biggest hobby, and I love it so much. I try to be in touch with all my followers too, you know? I message back to anyone who messages me first, and reply to comments when I can.”

“Um, yeah. Well, I, uh, better throw this shirt in the wash,” Virgil interjected, leaping from the couch and scurrying out of the room.

Roman stared, watching his roommate in confusion, but ultimately shrugged it off and went to go find his new room.

It had been a week since the incident, and frankly, Virgil had not fully recovered yet. He didn’t even know how to begin to process the fact that a proud, confident ler was now living with him. He desperately wanted to know what Roman’s Tumblr account was to see if he could follow him. But discreetly of course, because even though Roman may be secure and confident in his quirk, Virgil was not, and that was just how it was. It would be easy, right? Just ignore him when he talks about it. Virgil was sure Roman was probably used to it.

Later that afternoon, Virgil was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and was intensely scrolling through Tumblr on his phone trying to find Roman’s blog, when the man in question walked into the room.

Virgil all but threw his phone across the room in a panic when he heard the heavy footsteps behind him. He spun around. “Uh, y-yes?” he asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to slow his pounding heart rate. Roman didn’t seem to notice the odd behavior.

“Hey, Virge! So, you’re an English major, right?” He pulled up a chair at the dining room table and sat down. Virgil nodded, happy for the change of conversation.

“Yep. Whatcha need?”

Roman pulled out his phone and scrolled for a bit before handing it over to Virgil. “Do you mind proofreading this for any grammar or spelling errors?”

Virgil nodded and accepted the phone, squinting to try and read the tiny print. This wasn’t uncommon for Virgil. Many of his acquaintances often asked Virgil to proofread their emails and letters to bosses and businesses. It wasn’t until a few seconds of staring until he noticed.

It was a tickle fic. Virgil’s face blossomed into a bright red, as he glanced up at Roman who was sitting stone faced and calm.

“What-” he cleared his throat, “What is this?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

Roman tilted his head. “One of my fics! I’m not the best with grammar, and I was really hoping you could help me edit. You know, as a writing major I really want to get better,” he responded with a smile. Virgil took a shaky breath. No, this was fine. Completely and totally fine. He was just reading a fic in the direct presence of a ler, and then giving him pointers on how to make it better.

“Well, um, you could, maybe, reword this better,” he finally said after a minute.

“What part?”

Virgil pointed to a sentence on the screen. “That one.”

Roman looked at him and giggled. “Virge, do you really think I can see that? Just read it to me, silly.”

Virgil’s face felt like it was on fire. “Oh, um. Okay. So you w-wrote, ‘He laughed, squirming all over the bed, as Chuni followed him, massaging his r-ribs.’ Yeah?” He glanced up at Roman to see him listening intently. Oh, this was hard. “Um, so, to make it flow better you can reword it slightly by changing, changing the order.” He cleared his throat again. “For example, ‘He laughed and squirmed all over the bed and Chuni followed him, m-massaging his ribs.’ Does that, um, make sense?” he clarified.

Roman smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it does! Thanks! Anything else?” Virgil shut his eyes in an attempt to control his breathing.

“Well you, um, spelt t-tormenting wrong,” he grimaced. Roman leaned over.

“Oh did I?” Virgil nodded, propping his head up on his arm in a weak attempt to hide his face. “Can you go over the rest with me?”

Virgil pinched his arm. “Yep, sure thing,” he squeaked.

That was by the longest afternoon of his young adult life. But if he thought that was bad, nothing compared to what happened a month later.

Virgil had still not yet found Roman’s blog, and he kicked himself for not checking to see what the title of the one fic he proofread was so he could search it up later. Regardless, he was still very closeted in his secret fantasy, and somehow managed to keep his cool throughout the many conversations where Roman brought up his ler moods, and writings, and such.

“Virgil!” exclaimed Roman, bursting into the room. Virgil jumped slightly from his seat on the couch, nearly dropping his phone.

“Um, yes?” He turned to see Roman holding a ukulele. “Why do you have a ukulele?”

Roman smiled excitedly. “Well, so you know how I talk about teases, right? How they’re essential to the wreckage of a lee?” Virgil forcefully shoved the embarrassment panic creeping up down his throat. “Well, I thought how cool it’d be, as a new type of tease, to write song parodies of nursery rhymes, but make them tickle related!”

Virgil’s stomach twisted in a pleasant coil as he sat in complete shock. Surely not. “I, uh-“

“You wanna hear some?” he asked, bouncing up and down excitedly on his toes. Virgil continued to ogle as he begged his

voice to work.

“Um, s-sure,” he stuttered out, his voice cracking at the end.

Roman beamed. “Perfect! Okay, so you know the song Tiny Tim, right?”

Virgil coughed. “T-the turtle song?” Roman nodded.

“Yep! But I changed it.” He did a strum of the ukulele before beginning to play the catchy tune. “I have a little feather,” he sang out, his voice ringing out with the chords of the instrument. “His name is Tiny Tim, I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin!” Virgil blanched at the teasing lilt in his voice. “I drank up all his laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered, his smile oh so real!”

Roman finished the song and looked at Virgil expectantly. Unfortunately, at that moment Virgil’s voice decided to duck out and leave him. Roman giggled at him. “Are you speechless at my talent or something?”

Virgil, horrified, frantically willed the embarrassment away as he finally found his voice. “Oh, no, sorry. Uh, yeah no. It was good. Good,” he took a breath while rubbing the back of his neck. “Job. Yeah,” he finished lamely.

Roman pumped his fists in excitement. “Yessss! I was super proud of it! You wanna hear another one?” Rather than wait for a response, he strummed the ukulele again. “Oh, so this tease requires a specific name for it. Do you mind if I just use yours?”

Virgil swore he was going to have a stroke.

“Oh I know a little lee,” he sang, this time playing a new tune. “His name is Wiggle Virgey,” he paused his singing to look at him. “Adding y’s at the end of names makes it teasy,” he explained.

Virgil said nothing.

“He is so very nice, but oh he is so giggly, and so goes his arms, and his arms go like so, and his arms are always so-oh-oh!”

Yep. Virgil was going to die.

After two more verses, Roman finally finished his song and Virgil was all but willing to sell both his kidneys to disappear from this conversation.

“So, what did you think? That one isn’t my best, but I liked it!” Roman commented nonchalantly.

Virgil simply stared and nodded. Roman furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

Virgil blinked. “YeAh, why?” His voice cracked as he tried to speak. He quickly coughed to cover it up.

“I don’t know, you just seem sick or something. You’ve been coughing an awful lot. Your face is like bright red and you’ve been oddly quiet,” said Roman. That only made Virgil blush even more.

“No, yeah, no I’m fine,” he answered, waving him off. “Yeah, but I really gotta go work on, um that thing, for school, see ya around.” And with that, Virgil darted out of the room for the second time, leaving Roman standing alone in utter bewilderment.

Virgil had done his very best to avoid Roman after the whole tease incident, which was difficult considering they lived under the same roof. And even worse considering Roman was the most oblivious guy on the planet.

Virgil was in bed, scrolling through Tumblr on his phone, when he saw another post from his favorite writer, TheLeringPrince. He felt his lee mood spike as he saw it was a new tease post. Eagerly, he tapped the post and began to read. Slowly as he read though, something seemed off. The tease post was various nursery rhymes all modified to fit into the theme of tickling. And Tiny Tim was one of them.

Virgil’s heart began to race and his mind started spinning as he hurriedly tried to calm himself down. “No, Virgil,” he breathed out. “No, it’s just a coincidence. Roman probably stole it from this guy or maybe just thought of the same idea.” Ironically, he found himself wishing his roommate was a thief who stole credit from his favorite Tumblr user’s work, rather than admit that Roman was said favorite Tumblr user.

But right at the bottom of the post, there was a little bold sentence that truly made Virgil’s heart stop.

‘And many of you have been wondering about my sudden improvement in my grammar and spelling. Well, you can thank my brand new roommate for helping me proofread all my new fics and teases!’

What was Virgil’s luck? Of all the people on this planet of seven billion, he gets a roommate who, not only is a confident and charismatic ler who happily reads his teases and fics to Virgil, but is also the specific ler that Virgil had been daydreaming about being destroyed by for years.

Virgil wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug whoever ordained this or punch them.

Virgil contemplated it for a while before finally deciding to tell his anxiety to hit the road, and take this glorious opportunity by the horns. So with a deep breath, he clicked on TheLeringPrince’s profile, then DM’s, then opened his keypad.

Immenslee_Ticklish: Hey, just wanted to say that I really like your stuff, and that you seem like a pretty cool dude. Would you want to chat sometime?’

Immediately, he received a reply.

TheLeringPrince: Why thank you, Immenslee. And yes, I would love to chat ;)

Days went by, and Roman and Virgil were talking through their blogs constantly. Roman had taken to teasing Virgil quite thoroughly on the platform, and Virgil obviously ate it up. Roman even mentioned wanting to meet up sometime. Virgil would be lying if he said he didn't nearly pass out at that.

Of course they still talked in real life, only Roman didn’t know who Virgil was. Oddly enough, Virgil almost felt safer talking to his Tumblr handle rather than to him in real life. He had to laugh at that. Six months ago, Virgil would have fainted at the idea of living with his favorite ler. And now, here he was, finally having something to satiate his ever present, insatiable lee mood! And he was hiding.

He just wasn’t sure how to tell him! Leave his Tumblr open? Text him? Tell him through Tumblr DMs? For goodness’ sake, what was he so afraid of? This guy was clearly accepting and non judgmental about the whole thing. Most people would kill to be in this position. Well, most lees anyways.

Little did Virgil know, but Roman was already pretty suspicious. He didn’t have any evidence of the fact, but he was pretty certain that Virgil had to have some lee in him somewhere. His blush and stutters were getting increasingly obvious and even though Roman could be an idiot, he wasn’t stupid. It took him a while to figure it out, but once he did, there was nothing stopping him. Except of course, if Virgil for some reason just didn’t want to be tickled. That was fine too. But there was something in him that made Roman sincerely doubt that was the case.

Roman had never had a problem about being open with his fixation. He figured that if people were going to judge him based on a silly little liking, then they weren’t worth being in his life. He could understand why some people hid it, sure. It was scary to be so open about something other people found weird. But Roman just never had that fear.

But one day, Roman got a message. It was from a follower named Immenslee_Ticklish. Now Roman recognized this user, as they often commented, liked, and reblogged alot of his works. They were great fans, and apparently very much lee themselves. And all of a sudden, after two whole years of following Roman, they decide to message him.

Interesting.

But Roman ultimately decided to keep quiet about his suspicions because if Virgil wasn’t saying anything, then he didn’t want Roman to know. And Roman respected that. Even if he really wanted to tickle him.

Turns out he didn’t have to wait much longer.

Virgil had practiced it for weeks. He knew exactly what to say, and how he was going to say it. But that all flew out the window as he stared at Roman.

“Virgil, buddy, you’ve been staring at me for three minutes now,” commented Roman, raising an eyebrow at the man in question. “You came to tell me something.” Virgil inhaled deeply and tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. Roman gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, it’s okay. No need to be scared.” Virgil just stared at him. Roman’s heart broke for this kid, who was obviously scared out of his mind. “I promise I’m not going to be upset, or judge you, or do whatever your pretty little head is thinking might happen.

“I’mImenseleeTicklish!” he spat out suddenly. Roman jumped in surprise, but as soon as it hit him, he grinned.

“Oh, are you now?” he hummed, a sly smile watching the flustered boy with great amusement.

“Wait, no, I meant like the username. I’m the user Immenslee_Ticklish. I didn’t mean it like I’m immensely ticklish, well, I might be, but-“

Roman’s amused look caused him to stop talking. “So, yes?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m, uh, I’m a lee. Yeah.” The two of them stared at each other, neither one breaking the deafening silence or the intense eye contact.

“Well that’s very valuable information,” Roman stated calmly, being the first to speak, and before walking away and into the kitchen.

Wait?! Before walking away?!

Virgil’s mouth dropped open as he watched Roman walk off. “Wait!” he called indignantly. Roman paused, smirking away from Virgil.

“Yes?”

Virgil just stared for a minute, waving his arms dramatically as if it would help him speak. “Aren’t you going to, um, do something?”

Roman turned around to face him, as Virgil paled at seeing Roman smile darkly at him. “Like what?”

Realization hit him like a truck, and Virgil gaped in absolute horror. He was going to make him ask, wasn’t he? Oh, this was mean. So, so, so mean.

But at this point the lee mood was so bad that his dignity was going to have to leave him.

“I- were you, um,” he covered his face with his hands. “Were you gonna tickle me?”

He could hear Roman’s evil grin. “Do you want me to?”

“Um, yes. Please.” He swallowed harshly.

Roman clapped. “Why look at those manners!” he praised, gleaming at the whining boy in the living room. “I would love to. But to be clear, what exactly do you want to happen?”

“W-What do you mean?” Virgil asked, peeking from behind his hands.

“Tell me exactly what you want for me to do. In explicit detail, or I won’t do any of it,” cooed Roman.

“You’re so mean,” Virgil whined into his hands again. Roman laughed at his expense.

“I’m waiting~”

Virgil glared at him through his hands. “I want you to wreck me and tease me and destroy my resolve, and I want you to do it now! Please.” He added, lest he be made to repeat his request in a more polite manner. Roman reeled back, a tad surprised at the direct request.

“Well, good for you. I’d be happy to,” he nodded, impressed. “Very well. Meet me in your room in ten minutes~” he teased with a wink.

After he left, Virgil let it sink in. He was about to be ruthlessly teased and broken by his ler idol in ten minutes.

Oh he was going to die.

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the malicious coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?” Roman’s voice lowered significantly into a husky tone that sent shivers down Virgil’s spine. He tugged on his restraints, waves of excitement and panic flooding his body, and feeding his lee mood from before. He had waited years. Years and years and years for this day. To be in this position, and about to get wrecked into oblivion. He had no idea what Roman was going to do, but he was excitedly terrified.

Roman took a single finger and began aimlessly swirling around Virgil’s belly, going in zigzag patterns, curlicues, and idle shapes while he rested his head on Virgil’s chest. Virgil’s breath hitched, the gentle touches not quite tickling, but was setting an amazing precedent for what was about to take place. Roman let out a deep breath, purposely aiming it for Virgil’s neck, rewarding him with a satisfying squeal as the man scrunched up his shoulders as much as he could.

“I have a dilemma, Virgil,” sighed Roman melodramatically. “I feel like, since you’ve waited all this time for some expert ler to completely wreck you, destroy you, and undo your very resolve, that you ought to have a good experience, hm?” he commented, glancing up to look at Virgil’s wobbly smile. “I mean you’ve been so patient! It’d feel criminal to deprive you of the best possible experience. Don’t you agree?” He paused, waiting for a reply while still mindlessly twisting his finger on the pale expanse of skin, but all Virgil did was squeak softly in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers, causing Virgil to flinch slightly. “I’ve got it!” he announced, smiling darkly. “Let’s let you choose.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in pure horror. “What?”

“Why choose your own teases, of course! Who better knows exactly how to tease and fluster you, and turn you into a giggling blushy pile of goo then yourself?” Roman enunciated his point with a few teasing pokes to his chest. Virgil squirmed in an attempt to get the pokes to hit his stomach but he had no such luck. “So, Giggles, you want to try it?”

Virgil bit his lip and bounced his legs anxiously. “No!” he whined, his wobbly smile growing by the minute.

Roman grinned. “No? But it’s like a choose your own adventure! You choose your own teases and tools! Won’t that be fun?” Virgil shook his head violently. Roman mock pouted. “But I think it will be fun!”

Virgil made a strangled guttural sound in reply. “I-“

“Yes, dear,” he urged, resting his chin on Virgil’s chest once again.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. “I-I can’t tease,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I can’t tease!” he repeated, only slightly louder this time. Fortunately, Roman heard him.

“Oh well, that’s not a problem, silly. You aren’t saying the teases. I am!” he replied with a smirk. Virgil peaked one eye open.

“But I thought you said-“

“Oh, I know what I said,” he answered, cutting Virgil off. “No, I already know what teases you chose. You don’t have to say a word.” To Virgil's confusion, he pulled out his phone. It wasn’t until Roman started scrolling and grinning that Virgil’s eyes widened in panicked realization.

“No, no, no, NO!” Virgil called out, bouncing in anticipation. He tried lunging for the phone but his bonds held him back.

Roman pretended not to hear him. “Hm, let’s see. Posts, then notes, then-“ Roman grinned up at Virgil. “Ah yes, reblogged by Immenselee_ticklish! Oh, look there’s a comment too!”

“No! No, don’t read the comment!”

“It says, ‘Ahhhh!! Oh gosh, I’m blushing so hard!!’ Hold up.” Roman turned to look up at Virgil who was fire engine red. He smirked. “Would you look at that. Anyway, it continues to say, ‘I would die if anyone said this to me!’ And then there’s a blushing face.”

He smirked again as he faced Virgil. “So, would you say you’ve died?” Virgil whined longingly. Roman nodded while looking back at his phone. “I’d say yes.”

Roman continued to scroll only for his eyes to light up in delight. “Oh looky here!” Virgil slammed his eyes shut, not daring to.

“No, no, no, no.”

“Virgil look! It’s a gif! Oh wow.”

Oh yeah. Virgil definitely wasn’t going to look. He was strong, he was resilient, and nothing could break him!

“Aww and they’re getting their bellybutton tickled! Isn’t that your most favorite spot in the whole wide world?”

Um, yeah. It was easy, mind over matter. He wouldn’t look. Easy.

“Hey! And it’s your best friend! Mr. Toothbrush!”

Yeah, he... What was he saying?

“Roman, please,” he begged, eyes still clamped shut. The endless teases were killing him. His ever present lee mood had grown into a ravenous monster that he thought would never be satiated. His body screamed for tickles. It was more than a want, or even a craving. It was a need at this point. And Roman knew that and it only fueled his evil ler facade all the more.

“Aw, poor baby. Don’t worry, we’ll start soon,” he cooed.

Roman made Virgil lie there, flustered and helpless, and oh so terribly lee, and wait as he read out tease after tease that Virgil reblogged from his Tumblr, and even read the comments from the lee himself. Virgil wished with every second of every minute spent lying on that bed he had never made that Tumblr account.

After ten or so teases, Roman finally, mercifully, put the phone away. Virgil sighed in relief. Finally! He was going to be tickled to his limits, then past them, then have them pushed even further. He didn’t just want to be broken. He didn’t just want to be destroyed. No, he wanted so much more.

Roman marched up to the table and placed both hands on Virgil’s thighs. “So, a little birdie told me you like baby talk,” he teased. Virgil blushed, which Roman took for a yes. “So would a, oh I don’t know, little kitchy, kitchy, coo would get you all flustered, hm? A little-“ his voice dropped an octave. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~” his face morphed to a maniacal grin.

Virgil's face turned crimson as he wiggled around on the table. “Noho!” He barked out a laugh. Roman raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“No? Hmm. What about nursery rhymes, huh? You sure liked the ones I sang to you earlier this month! Do you want to hear some of those? ‘Cause I got some good ones~” Roman whipped out a feather seemingly out of nowhere and waved it teasingly in front of Virgil’s nose. Virgil yelped at the sensation.

“I have a little feather,” sang out Roman, his voice rising and falling with the feather. “His name is Tiny Tim. I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin.” He winked at Virgil who just blushed deeper. “I drank up all the laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered,” Another wink. “His smile is so real.”

Virgil was already softly giggling at the song, and it only encouraged Roman to keep going. “You got a little giggle button, right? I have another fun song, just. for. him!” he cheered, punctuating each word with a poke to his bellybutton, making Virgil squeal each time.

He took the feather and ran it in a large teasy circle all around the vast expanse of vulnerable tummy. “Ring around the belly, a button full of jelly,” he heard Virgil snort when the feathers hit a particular spot on his waistline. “-tickle, tickle, they all fall down!” Roman ended the verse with several flicks of the fluffy feather to Virgil’s bellybutton, causing him to buck and laugh, but it was still technically soft tickles. Virgil didn’t want soft tickles right now.

“Rohohoho,” he whined through the giggles. Roman ignored him.

“Let’s see. Oh, here’s another favorite of mine!” He cleared his throat and lifted the feather again. “Oh head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes! Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes~” He ran the feather all over the respective places, and it didn’t tickle much, but Roman’s plan was working. Virgil was getting more and more flustered, and more and more ticklish.

“Oh feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins. Feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins~” Roman watched in glee as Virgil’s face turned darker and darker with each song, and how even though the tickling was so light, his giggles were still sharp.

All of a sudden, with zero warning, Roman ditched the feather and attacked Virgil’s tummy with all ten fingers. “Oh, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes! She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes-“ Virgil fell into deep belly laughter as he thrashed and pulled desperately. “She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes!”

Virgil had never felt more embarrassed in his life, but that made the tickling so much more fun. After two more verses, Roman stopped. Virgil whined again at the loss of contact.

Roman chuckled. “You really are a hopeless lee, aren’t you?”

Virgil scrunched his nose. “Shut up.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised in an accusatory way. “Do you want to say that again?”

“What? Shut up?” snarked Virgil, trying to wind him up to get wrecked and forced to apologize, but unfortunately, Roman saw right through his plan.

“Wow. You really are desperate. Stooping so low as to provoke me to lash out and wreck you right this minute?” Roman tisked lightly. “Imagine! You honestly think that I’m going to fall for the oldest trick in the book? I hate to break it to you, Stormcloud, but I’m far more experienced than you think I am,” he added, shaking his head in disapproval. “I ought to make you wait longer just for that.”

Virgil gasped and shook his head desperately. “No, no, please no! I’m sorry!”

Roman shook his head again. “Poor little lee. So desperate you’ve lost your dignity. Here you are, begging like this for me to so horribly wreck you until you can’t even remember your own name.” Despite his words of disapproval, he smiled. “Oh course, I don’t blame you. I am very talented so I understand your eagerness. For that reason, I will grant mercy and not punish you for your lousy attempts at brattiness.”

Virgil let out the biggest sigh of relief imaginable. At last! He was going to be wrecked!

“But I still have one more game before we start.”

Virgil threw his head back onto the bed with such a force it almost hurt. “Oh my gosh, Roman please,” he begged, whining at a new frequency.

Roman sighed. “One more! You can do it. I have to make sure your ticklish little body is at optimal sensitivity! So, here’s an easy game to finish you off.” He walked around to the side of the bed. “Just gotta warm you up,” he winked before wiggling his fingers menacingly above Virgil. Virgil asked, and sucked in his stomach, but Roman simply drew in closer. The fingers were so tantalizingly close to the tickle spot, and Virgil swore he felt them already. And in his mind, he pleaded and begged with Roman to hurry up and get on with it already, but on the outside he was completely stunned into silence.

Until Roman did a fake out.

Roman launched his wiggling fingers at Virgil full speed without any sort of warning, and Virgil lost it. He laughed, he snorted, he cackled, and he squealed. He jerked and thrashed all over his limited free space for a whole minute until he realized. Roman’s hands were behind his back, as he watched Virgil with the most evil look you could imagine.

“You're awful!” screeched Virgil, both mortified by his own reaction, and furious at Roman’s trick. Roman laughed out loud.

“Hmm, okay, okay. I’ll wreck you now. Besides, I can’t just keep you here, endlessly teasing and torturing you forever?” He paused with a smirk. “Actually-“

“Roman!” Virgil cried out, laughing in both frustration at his lee mood, and anticipation from what was coming.

Roman laughed at his panic. “I’m just kidding, jeez. You poor lee. Alright, I’ll wreck you, on the one condition you tell me your worst spots.”

Virgil’s eyes turned to saucers. “I-what?”

“You heard me! Give me those death spots or else no tickles~” he sang, thinking the nerves were from his tease.

But strangely, Virgil turned more bashful, rather than flustered. It was almost a sheepish look on his face that replaced the embarrassment. That certainly got Roman’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern. Virgil scrunched his face up and looked down.

“I-I well, I don’t know what my worst spots are,” he replied with a shy smile.

Roman was confused for about two seconds before it dawned on him. “You-“ he stared in utter wonderment. “You‘ve never tickled before, have you?”

Virgil’s face flushed under the attention. “Well, yeah, no not really,” he mumbled sheepishly.

Oh, this was a game changer. Roman beamed. “You mean to tell me, I’m your first time?” Virgil smiled again, and nodded hesitantly. Roman had never been so excited in his life. “Well then, I guess we have work to do!” he commented, a wicked grin and a twinkle shining in his eye.

Roman turned and walked down to the end of the bed, clicking his tongue as he examined the body in front of him. “I suppose the best thing to do would be to either go bottom to top, or top to bottom.” He tilted his head up at Virgil while smiling. “Would you by any chance have a preference?”

Virgil huffed. “I guess, I don’t know. Bottom to top?” he suggested, more or so not caring as he really just wanted to be wrecked already. Roman clapped.

“Perfect! That means I get to play with your cute little feet!” he cheered. Virgil blushed. Roman held tight of the right foot’s ankle and took the same pointer finger and carefully slid it from the tippy top of the toes all the way down to the heel. Virgil immediately started his giggles anew, wiggling his upper body at the light touches. “Oh good! It seems you’re ticklish here! What else can we try?”

Roman soon added the other four fingers into the fray and began ruthlessly scratching up and down and all around the soft tender arches, making Virgil snort and fall into deeper laughter at the feeling. He tickled all around the foot, being very thorough and detailed in his methods, making sure not one inch of ticklish skin was left unscathed. Then, without warning, he moved up to the toes. He wiggled each little toe and scolded them if they curled up. Eventually, he pulled them back and gave them a good scratching underneath as punishment for their misbehavior. Virgil thrashed like nobody’s business, finally getting exactly what he wanted, and it was so much better then he had ever thought. And he certainly didn’t complain when Roman informed him that his other foot was getting left out, and needed the same tickly treatment.

After both feet were thoroughly assaulted (Roman may have had to go back to the right foot again, it seemed to be getting lonely), he spidered his fingers all the way up to Virgil’s knees. Virgil smiled in anticipation, bouncing his leg as he waited.

“Ah yes, the knees. Such an underrated tickle spot! Very few people think about the knees being so terribly ticklish, but they can be! It all starts with this little pressure point, riiiight here.” Roman began rapidly wheezing the muscle right above Virgil knee, making him fall into deep laughter. “Oh wonderful!” shouted Roman above the loud laughter. “It seems as if your knees are just as horridly sensitive as I thought!” His squeezing fingers quickly switched to spidering ones, and darted right on the underneath of his knees, sending Virgil snorting.

Roman awed at the adorable sounds. “Aww, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Are my tickly, tickly tickles making you giggle, hm?” he cooed, relishing in the deep red color that was Virgil’s face and the tiny snorts mixed in with the hysterical giggles.

“Nohohohoho!” Virgil giggled out, trying to kick his legs but the restraints keeping every inch of ticklish skin in place.

“No?” questioned Roman. “Well, that’s a shame! Why don’t we try something else then,” he pondered and immediately grabbed the young man’s thighs, squeezing sporadically and rapidly every area of muscle. Virgil’s eyes bulged out as he flung himself to sit up right and cackle.

Roman’s eyes lit up with mischief at the extremity of Virgil’s reaction. “Oh, what's this? Does this tickle? Are you ticklish here?” he asked, the teasing lilt in his voice making the ruthless squeezing at his thighs all the worse. Virgil fell back on to the bed to wheeze with laughter when Roman moved up closer to his hips. “Virgil!” scolded Roman. “Hello! I’m talking to you! Does this tickle?” he asked again, not for one second stopping the wretched attack on the loathsomely sensitive muscle.

When Virgil still didn’t reply, Roman felt a spike of worry, and slowed his squeezing fingers just a little. Virgil’s wheezy laughter died down, until it was more or less hysterical giggles.

“Yes!” Virgil called out. Roman was confused for a minute until he remembered the question he had asked a few minutes earlier. He took his hands off his legs, leaving Virgil limp and giggly.

“Oh good! See I guessed it did, but I was just checking,” he winked. “Congratulations, Virgil. I think you might have your first death spot.”

Virgil weakly held up a thumbs up, his giddy smile bright enough to blind someone. Roman smiled at him softly. “How about we take a break?” So he sat next to Virgil on the bed, gently rubbing his shin comfortingly, waiting for Virgil to regain all the breath he’d lost until finally-

“Um, I think I’m ready to go again,” piped up the younger man. Roman grinned.

“You sure?” Virgil nodded eagerly. Roman leaned next to Virgil’s ear, making him squeak. Oh he’d have to remember that.

“Well then,” he purred, his voice sending shivers down Virgil’s spine. “Allow me to continue your destruction.” He peered down the bed where Virgil was stretched out, and examined it carefully like a puzzle. He walked down the side to the right of his hips. “Now if my memory serves me, correct me-” Roman began, but Virgil barked out a laugh. Roman glared at him. “What?”

“Dude, what did you say?” he asked, laughing again. Roman crossed his arms.

“If my memory serves me, correct me. It’s a saying!” Virgil burst out laughing again. “What?!”

“The saying is, ‘If my memory serves me, correctly,’ not correct me,” he teased, still laughing at Roman’s miss interpretation.

“Okay, yeah, laugh it up, Virgil,” he retorted, immediately squeezing his right thigh again. Promptly the teasing man burst into laughter at the feeling, and proceeded to howl on the bed. “Don’t correct me again!” he playfully scolded before ceasing the tickling.

Roman crawled up on the bed in between Virgil legs in hopes of being able to navigate better. “Now, I say we try hips next. Some people overlook it, but they look wonderfully ticklish to me~” he sang, already the tone giving Virgil the giggles. Roman grinned at the pink color once again rising to his cheeks. “Aww, does mentioning the tickly tickles making you a little neeeervous?” he sang again, whilst skimming the skin of his waist and pant line. Virgil’s giggles greatly increased from both the tickling and the teasing alike, as he began wiggling around in the bed.

Roman’s scratching fingers followed the wiggly hips with great ease, smiling in adoration as he listened to the sweet soft giggles come from his captive. “You’re adorable,” he commented without really thinking.

“Nuhnuhnuhuhu uhuhuhuh!” the giggling man protested, yet his denial only further proved Roman’s point.

“Yeah huh!” argued Roman. “Alright enough softness, I want to watch you scream.” He put on his best evil ler face as he watched Virgil turn a bright crimson at the threat.

Roman crawled up further until he was practically sitting on Virgil’s hips. “So, let’s test the waters for what are the vast expanse that is Virgil’s tickle spots, shall we?” Virgil pulled up his legs out of reflex, but they were blocked by Roman’s back. He whined.

“Oh, whatever is the matter, dear?” he cooed, leaning in so close Virgil could feel his breath on his neck and ear. The man made a strangled noise in reply. “I’m sorry, darling, I don’t speak lee. Would you mind rephrasing your statement?”

Virgil just shut his eyes, trying to smother the wobbly grin that was slowly creeping up onto his face. Roman took that as a sign to continue.

He spidered his fingers up to Virgil’s sides, and kept them there, smiling as Virgil shuffled all over the bed in anticipation. “Gohohoho ohohohon, alreheheady!” he giggled out.

“Is that anyway to ask for something?” Roman playfully scolded moments before digging into the boy’s sides. Virgil bucked and burst into giggles, thrashing and pulling. Roman didn’t stop for even a second, mercilessly tickling, squeezing and scratching all over the sides and even migrating to the soft skin of the belly. Virgil was in proper hysterics and was loving every minute of it.

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing! What? What’s the matter? Are you ticklish?” Roman teased, digging into the lower belly. Virgil squealed, and fell into even deeper laughter as Roman took to blowing raspberry after raspberry onto Virgil’s poor ticklish tummy. Virgil was in tickly heaven, for sure, but he still hadn’t been broken yet. And that was fine, but his growing hunger still hadn’t been filled, and he couldn’t help but wish deep down that there was somewhere to truly make him scream. He contemplated asking Roman to go for his thighs again.

But then.

As Roman paused the tickling on his sides and began to feel around, something happened.

Virgil could only possibly describe it as maybe a jolt of euphoric electricity that shocked him into the pit of his stomach. Something that found the roaring lion that was his lee mood and slapped it in the face. Something that sent shivers to his spine and butterflies to his stomach. Something that made him shriek at the mere feeling of Roman’s presence. If Roman’s dastardly laughter upon finding the spot was any indication, Virgil was screwed.

“Well, looky here,” he noted, looking up at Virgil with a gleam in his eye, further confirming the reality that Virgil was about to experience. “It seems we’ve found something.”

Roman tested the spot again: a rib, nestled warmly in between a tiny layer of fat, and the beginning of his armpit. He sharply poked the rib, eliciting a similar shriek as before. Virgil’s eyes grew like saucers as he fought with his own mind on how he felt. Was he terrified? Was the overwhelming amount of ticklish sensations about to course through his body like an electric current terrifying? Or was he excited? That after all these years of begging and pleading for someone to come into his life and do this very thing to him?

Virgil didn’t have time to decide, as Roman promptly dug in.

Virgil said he wanted to scream, and scream he did. His body was too overwhelmed to even thrash at this point, no, it merely fell limp and took every bit of torture Roman was giving to it. Roman took his pointer finger and thumb, making them into a claw motion, and pinching all over the bone. He pinched up and down, left to right, and repeated the sequence, soaking in every plea and beg and cry from Virgil. He wiggled in between the bone, and even took to scratching the armpits as well. Virgil was happily losing his mind. But it wasn’t over.

No, because out of nowhere, Roman pulled from under the bed a bottle of oil, and immediately began pouring it into his hands. Virgil greedily sucked in the oxygen as he waited for Roman to start again. His eyes followed him, watching Roman complete his moves with an eagerness about him. He was ready.

Virgil only had to wait a minute longer before Roman took his sweet time, slowly covering every inch of both armpits in the slippery liquid, purposely sliding his fingers and nails in such a way to make Virgil start to laugh. And then with both hands, he dug in again.

Oh, if he thought it was bad before, no, this was true torture. The oil made the fingers glide pristinely on the sensitive skin, and thereby ticking seemingly everywhere at once. Roman still concentrated on squeezing both top rib bones on either side at the same time, while allowing the nails to scratch along the armpits and other ribs as he did it.

And Virgil screamed. He screamed and screamed louder than he had ever before. He couldn’t even be concerned at the fact they were living in an apartment, and if they neighbors would be worried. Virgil screeched at the top of his lungs, his voice no longer even saying words or please at this point, just pure unshackled ecstasy in waves unmeasurable. He screamed and laughed his voice hoarse, kicking and tugging in desperation to escape the torture he was being subjected to.

“So,” commented Roman nonchalantly, yet very loudly to be heard over the booming laughter. “I was wondering if you could give me a quick performance review. You know, it is my first time and all.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

“Okay, so that’s not too bad. Anything else?”

Virgil silently screamed as he felt Roman vibrate his fingers into both bones once more.

“Oh good! Well, I appreciate your input, thank you.”

Virgil was loving every solitary second of this, after all, this is what he had wanted. He wanted exactly this. But, unfortunately, he needed to breathe. So he called out.

“YEL-“ he stopped mid screech, his own laughter cutting him off. Roman stopped immediately.

“Was that yellow?” he asked, face contorting with worry. Virgil didn’t answer at first, only focused on taking in as much oxygen as he could get.

“Yeheheah,” he replied, the leftover giggles still dying out.

Roman’s evil ler face melted as a fond one replaced it. “Wow, I’m impressed. That’s definitely your death spot, and you only called out yellow. I could never last as long as you did,” he marveled.

Even with as winded as Virgil was, he was still trying to tease back. “Oho, so you have a death spot, then?” he teased with a smirk. Roman blushed.

“Oh shut up. Just so you know, you still technically haven’t called red yet,” he retorted cockily. Virgil nodded before laying his head down for a minute to rest. “Do you want water?” Roman asked him.

Virgil shook his head. “No, I’m almost done. I’d rather not get up then get back down.” His insatiable lee mood was shrinking drastically. But, there was one more thing he wanted. “So, um,” he looked up at Roman sheepishly. “Can I do a request?”

Roman smiled fondly. “Of course. This is your session after all.”

Virgil fidgeted as much as he could despite his hands being tied. “So, I kind of have a favorite spot. Like, after you tickled me. I realized I might have a favorite.”

Roman’s heart practically burst on the spot. “Oh yeah? Let me hear it.”

Virgil wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, and stayed quiet for a minute. Roman chuckled. “Come on little lee, I can’t help you out if you don’t ask,” he cooed, gently spidering his fingers on the tops of his feet, making him let out a quick giggle at the touch.

“Ohohokay, okay. Um,” he looked away bashfully. “Can you go back to, back to my stomach? You, you can tease. Too. If you want, or whatever,” he added quickly, still refusing to look Roman in the eye. Roman beamed.

“Why, I would love to.”

Roman sat down next to Virgil, and actually undid his cuffs, much to Virgil’s surprise. “Alright, now keep your arms up,” he whispered, sending a pink flush to his cheeks.

“W-what?” he giggled shyly. Roman poked his tummy.

“You heard me. You gotta keep them up aaaaall by yourself.”

Virgil giggled again, and cautiously raised his arms above his head and gripped the headboard. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Roman nodded with a smile and began lightly skittering his fingernails all over Virgil’s quivering tummy. Virgil immediately burst into soft, sweet giggles, the ones he could probably stop if he tried, but definitely didn’t want to, and rocked back and forth onto the bed. Roman kept the fingers teasing his sides gently, then lifted up his shirt slightly and started peppering cute little kisses all over the pale skin. Virgil squealed lightly and giggled slightly harder at the wonderfully maddening feeling, drinking in every bit of feeling he could.

Finally after about ten minutes, Virgil slowly lowered his arms from the headboard and Roman stopped. Overwhelming exhausted overcame him like an ocean and he yawned. “Thank you, Roman. This was the best day of my life.” Roman smiled at the compliment.

“Why I’m so happy it was, Virgil. We will certainly do it again.” He stood up to leave, but Virgil grabbed his arm.

“Stay with me?” he asked, pulling on his arm like a child. Roman chuckled.

“Of course.”

And the two of them napped together, each so peaceful and happy in that they found each other, and waking up wondering if it was all just a dream.

#tickle fic #pineapple anon #pineapple writing #pineapple fics #sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!roman #ticklish!virgil #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

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stones-x-bones · 4 years ago

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Where Is Your Guilt || Kyle and Bex (ft. Morgan)

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @darkh0wl @inbextween and @mor-beck-more-problems SUMMARY: Bex and Kyle meet up at the campus café to try and relieve each other of their guilt. Narrator voice: It went poorly. CONTENT: PTSD flashback, Panic attack, Sad wolf boi and sad witch gorl

Bex paced. Her chest was pounding with nerves. It didn’t hurt so much today, it was getting better, really. It didn’t hurt so much. She could do this, she could see Kyle. She could, really. She just had to keep telling herself that she was safe, that this was okay. That he wasn’t going to hurt her. Of course he wasn’t. This was nothing like the circumstances that brought the incident on. There was no mind link, no essay to write, no panic attack. No anger, no moon, no night. It was the middle of the day, in a crowded cafe. Well, not crowded. Bex didn’t like crowded places and she assume Kyle wouldn’t either. Especially for this. She paced outside because sitting seemed too hard right now, even if her chest was beginning to hurt from all the movement. She rubbed it and paused and tried to collect herself. She needed to calm down, lest her magic go haywire again. She couldn’t let it hurt him again. A familiar voice, Bex looked up. Across the way, Kyle was heading towards her. She wanted to run to him, to hug him, to reassure him everything was okay-- but something glued her to her spot and her entire body froze up.

Kyle had debated not coming. He had debated laying in bed forever and deleting Bex’s number. That was stupid. Of course he had to come, he nearly killed her. The least he could do was show up (in a well lit, well populated area,) and apologize to her face. If he could even look her in the eye after what he’d done. He had sat in his Jeep, staring at the wheel and willing himself to get out of the car. He had taken his time making sure he didn’t look like the sleepless zombie he felt himself to be. When he thought he could keep Bex waiting no longer, Kyle took a deep breath to ground himself, and he headed toward the cafe on the UMWC campus. It wasn’t as heavily populated as he had hoped. Maybe extra eyes on him could have been incentive enough to keep his shit together. That was fine, he would just have to keep himself calm. That was doable. As he approached, he called out. “Bex! Hey.” At least she knew he was coming this time. He hoped that when he waved, she couldn’t tell how badly his hands shook. He shoved his hands in his pockets to try to mask the anxious shaking. “How are you?” he asked, as he closed the distance between them, concern written across his face.

Bex stepped back as Kyle approached. She didn’t mean to, but she did, and her back hit the door as someone pushed it open and she jumped away, apologizing profusely. She turned back to Kyle, her hands were already shaking. She immediately knew-- this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. She looked at him and she saw red eyes glowing and she heard his voice in her head-- Prey, hunt, kill-- and she felt claws in her chest. She tried to open her mouth to respond but couldn’t get anything out. Drew in a breath in an attempt to calm herself down. This wasn’t that. This wasn’t then. She was fine. She was fine. “I’m-- okay. I’m doing-- I’m-- fine.” She withdrew her arms and tucked them tightly over her chest, folding into herself. “I--” her eyes tried their best to scan the boy. He looked okay, physically, but she knew he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was hit by a car. He was forced to change into a rabid animal. He had almost killed her. Bex took another step away. “Are you? O-okay? Please just...tell me y-you’re not taking all this on a-alone?”

Something about Bex’s body language was off. Kyle’s brow knitted together and he listened carefully to her. He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and nodded. “Fine,” he said, his voice sounding more hoarse than he expected. He cleared his throat, looking down at his feet. “I’m doing fine.” Kyle’s hands were clenched into fists in his pockets. It was hard to look at her because some animalistic part of his brain still wanted to see prey. He had to take a steadying breath when he looked back up at Bex. “I’m-- I mean I guess I’m alone. It’s okay. You-- How are you doing with things? Are--are you healing?” His eyes drifted over Bex. The way she hugged her own chest broke his heart. He did that to her. What if they had never been in the library at the same time? Would things have shook out the way they did? Would Bex be better off? He looked down at his feet again in an attempt to make Bex feel like she wasn’t staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. “Do you want to sit?” he mumbled at the ground.

So they were both liars then, huh? Bex didn’t know what to do anymore. Morgan had been right, this was a bad idea. Wasn’t she always right? Had Bex really not learned that lesson by now? She shook off the thoughts and looked over at Kyle. He looked almost as afraid and in pain as she was. He hid it better. She tucked her chin into her shoulder. “You’re not fine,” she muttered, turning to look around at the patio outside. Did she want to sit? No, she wanted to leave. Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest again. Her throat felt tight. Her body shook in a cold sweat. “You shouldn’t b-be alone. It’s not fair. I-- you deserve to have people helping you. Please, please don’t--” she paused, swallowed, “don’t take this all on yourself. It-- it’s my fault, t-too. Please.” She begged, finally feeling brave enough to step towards him. She reached out, unfurling her arms. She wanted so bad to reassure him, but, instead, a vision flashed before her eyes. The alley, the angry wolf. Running. Cold, hard ground on her back. She saw his eyes and his teeth and claws-- and she screamed.

“No, no,” Kyle began, shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear about how it’s your fault. It’s not.” He could hear the way her heartbeat picked up. He hadn’t even been listening for it, but became aware of it as it sped up. She wasn’t doing okay, and it was his fault. She was panicking and it was his fault. Kyle was ready to call the whole thing quits. He wanted to turn and walk away right now. This had been a bad idea, and he shouldn’t have agreed to it last night. Truthfully, he’d only agreed because it seemed like it might make her feel better. He had hoped she’d bring Mina or Morgan or, hell, even Nell. He hadn’t wanted her to come alone. But here they were, and Bex was trying to tell him not to take this on alone and that it was her fault. That hurt to hear. Kyle had sincerely fucked this girl’s whole life up in one go, hadn’t he? He took her whole world and just flipped it on its head because he couldn’t keep his cool for five fucking minutes. “Bex, this isn’t your fault,” he said, closing his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something more, but then Bex was screaming. Kyle’s eyes flew back open and he froze. The same feeling started rising in his chest; he began to feel that familiar, but pressing, urge to shift. Breathe. Breathe. “Breathe.” Was he saying that outloud? Fuck.

No, this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen again. This wasn’t the same. Breathe. Bex put her hands over her ears and sank to the ground. It was happening again. It was happening again. It was like waking up from all of her nightmares of it again, and again, and again. There was a pressure on her chest again and she gasped for breath. Breathe. Who was saying that? Was she saying that? Tear filled eyes looked around wildly. She saw faces, but they blurred into street lights. She remembered how they flickered above her. Remembered how they’d cast shadows onto the wolf as it charged from the alley and right towards her. “Stop it!” she shouted, reaching out and shoving whoever was in front of her. Hands found purchase on something solid and she pushed herself up, trying to get away from the alley-- the building. She needed space. She needed to breathe. She collapsed just shy of the grass, on her hands and knees, clutching her chest. Had she made it far enough away? She could feel magic seeping from her hands. The grass in front of her decayed in an instant. The sidewalk cracked under her fingertips. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t calm down. She put her head in her hands again and curled into a ball. This had been such a bad idea. She wished she’d never came. She wished she’d never met Kyle. She wished she didn’t have magic.

The push was unexpected, and Kyle stumbled backwards, landing on his butt. He barely felt it, eyes locked on Bex. At this point, Kyle was aware that spellcasters existed. He knew the effects magic could have on two people; the way it could make two divergent paths become one. He knew that Nell had healed Bex, too, and that it wasn’t always destructive. But something about seeing it right in front of his eyes--the way the grass just up and died, the way the sidewalk fractured like fault lines--made him feel as if he weren’t real. Mouth agape, Kyle stared at her for a long moment, before he jolted back to his senses and went to her side. “Bex? Bex, it’s--it’s okay, I’m--I won’t hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” That sick little instinct at the back of his mind called him a liar. He did want to hurt her. He wanted to attack her again. But watching Bex curl up like that had him shaking his head. He had to stop thinking and do something about this. He knelt down beside her and tentatively put a shaking hand on her shoulder. “I won’t hurt you again I--I can’t hurt you again. It’s okay!” Should he call someone? Should he leave? He couldn’t leave her like this, right? This was his fault, he needed to fix it. He needed to do something.

She knew. Logically, she knew. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He wasn’t. Really. Hadn’t she told Morgan that? And Mina? And Nell? So, then, why didn’t she believe it. Her heart seized again at the sound of his voice. Bex doubled over, clutching her stomach. She felt sick. Her body was shaking, she couldn’t control her thoughts anymore. “Go away!” she shouted into the grass. Her body shimmered, glowed, a hazy piece of herself breaking away for only a moment. She wanted out of this moment. She wanted to run away. “Don’t touch me!” She didn’t even notice the bystanders at the cafe staring them down. Discussing whether to call campus security or the police or the medical staff. Bex’s breathing began to wheeze, as if she couldn’t get enough air to her lungs. The nearby lamps began to hum with the low pulse of energy. She needed to reign herself in, she was going to hurt someone again. But every time she opened her eyes, she just saw the wolf atop her. Teeth sharp, eyes full of bloodlust. He wanted to kill her. He was going to kill her. She could remember the thoughts echoing in her head. Prey. Hunt. Kill. “Stop, please!” she cried out. “Please, I don’t want to die, please.” And she hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t control herself, could she? But her mind, her magic, it made them all see. Everyone nearby. Flashes of the wolf. The pain she’d felt as claws dug into her chest. The fear she’d felt when she was sure he was going to kill her. Now, she wasn’t the only one screaming. “Make it stop,” she sobbed, “please make it stop.”

Running his hands through his hair, Kyle stood up and backed away from Bex. This was bad. This was really, really bad. She hated him, and that thought was making him spiral. He dragged his hands over his face. “Focus, focus, focus.” He had to call someone who knew what they were doing. His hands fumbled for his phone, and he called Morgan, thanking the gods that he’d saved her number the day he was in the art studio. The second Morgan picked up, Kyle was already speaking. “Morgan, it’s Kyle. The campus cafe, you need--Bex--she’s-- Get here. Now.” He couldn’t keep the feeling at bay for much longer, though he was surprised with himself that he’d been able to at all. He was going to shift, and it was going to happen soon, if he didn’t calm down. He just needed to wait for Morgan to get here. Then he could go. Morgan just had to get here.

Morgan was in her office when she got the call. She didn’t pack up her things so much as she shoved as much as she could with one sweep of her arm, and everything left, books, charging cables, Pyrex, papers, whatever the hell, didn’t matter. She took the steps two at a time, shamelessly shoving students and faculty out of her way until she could sprint down the quad to the cafe.

“Bex!” She called. Kyle paced fastidiously nearby, his body hunched and tense. Which made the shape face-planted in the ground Bex. “Bexley!” She dropped her bag, tired of it banging and rattling uselessly against her side. Then she threw herself onto the girl, wrapping her up and pulling her up. “Bex, hey-- Honey, hey--” Bex thrashed in her arms, shaking with panic and terror. Morgan bundled her tighter against her chest. She looked up at Kyle, pleading for answers. “What happened? Is she hurt? Did you do something?” Around her, lights groaned and flickered. Sparks flew out from the nearest lamp. At the cafe tables, students were trembling and whimpering, an eerie chorus, out of tune in a way that reminded her of the worst of fae magic. “Tell me what’s happening!”

Bex felt something pulling her up and she lashed out, thrashing. “Don’t!” she cried out, not seeing who it was, not knowing who it was. “Don’t touch me!” But the grip just tightened. She cried out in anguish, lost in the memory that was consuming her mind. Pressure, like on her chest, claws digging in. She pushed and shoved and squirmed but she couldn’t get away. She couldn’t get away. She was losing control. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She didn’t mean to hurt anyone. She inhaled sharply-- a lamp finally shattered. Exhaled-- the sidewalk splintered more, like tremors in the ground. Her body shook inside the vice grip she knew she couldn’t escape. “Please don’t,” she begged, she pleaded, her eyes seeing straight through Morgan, straight through Kyle, and looking up at the wolf, “please don’t kill me.”

There wasn’t time to answer Morgan’s questions. Not with all these innocent people around. Not with Bex reliving what he’d already done to her. Not with the kindness Morgan had shown him when he least deserved it. “She-- I don’t know, Morgan! I don’t know! She was screaming and she’s--It’s me! I-it’s happening again, and I can’t let it.” He couldn’t breathe. His eyes glinted in the light cast from the sparks that showered down from the lamps around them. “I have to go,” Kyle said breathlessly. He was already discarding his jacket and shoes and phone and keys beside Morgan’s bag. He couldn’t afford to buy new clothes every time this happened, and it was happening with an unexpected frequency as of late. He had to go. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, turning and running for the forest as quickly as he could.

It hurt. His body was still so sore, his skin still so raw. No time. Can’t breathe. Kyle hadn’t made it more than ten yards into the woods--his shirt and pants discarded just beyond the treeline--before he was stumbling to his knees. His claws dug into the earth. What if he was still too close? He could hear Bex’s screams in the not so far distance. What if he turned around to go back after them? What if he couldn’t stop this time? There wasn’t enough time to follow that line of thinking all the way to the conclusion before Kyle was fully shifting. It took him a few minutes to recover. He took in a deep breath and he could smell fear. Kyle rounded on his heels, ears pricked as he listened intently. Please don’t kill me. He stilled. Head up, eyes darting around in search of an easy meal, Kyle slowly stalked forward. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind him. He whipped around, spotting a wolpertinger crouched under some low brush. The beast took off, Kyle took off after it, and he was gone.

“Kyle, no. Kyle, wait!” Morgan cried. But he was long gone and as much as it pained her to see him retreating, shamefaced over something he couldn’t carry, it was a lot easier to deal with one superpowered oversized kid than two. Morgan sighed, lamenting silently. (Someone had to do better for him, someone had to care for him, show him that he didn’t have to make such a mess or be so alone.) Then she turned the rest of her attention on Bex.

“Hey,” she cooed. “You’re safe, Bex. No one is going to hurt you. I’ve got you. You’re safe, and you’re here with me.” She spoke her words softly and steadily into the girl’s ear, the way Deirdre did for her during her worst moments. “You’re with me. You’re safe. And you’re not in that alley, you’re here. You have to breathe until you find your way back to me, honey. Can you breathe a little slower, like I showed you?” Morgan tapped the rhythm on her arm and squeezed her tighter still. If she dislocated something, she’d pop it back into place and apologize later.

Words began to break through her facade. You’re with me, you’re safe. You’re not in that alley. Bex slammed her eyes shut and did her best to listen to them, panting with exhaustion as she tried her best to breath. In for three, out for five. A steady rhythm being tapped on her arm. The grip around her tightening, shifting from a painful reminder, to a place where she knew she was safe. The arms were cold, the grip was warm. Morgan. Bex inhaled sharply as she suddenly snapped from her flashback, blinking rapidly. She tried her best not to hyperventilate, sucking in air, collapsing into Morgan’s arm from the stiff, frightened ball she’d tried to curl into before. She let her entire weight lean against Morgan, clutching her chest as she tried to breathe. Just breathe. Kyle’s words. Just breathe. She’d done it again. She’d ruined everything again. She should’ve just stayed home. She didn’t cry this time, just let her body grow limp against Morgan. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed, finally finding enough air in her lungs to speak, “I made it worse. I’m sorry.” Monotone words mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes lifted to the treeline, off behind Morgan’s shoulder. Kyle was spiraling into a world of hurt and loneliness and it was all her fault. She’d find a way to fix it. She’d do better next time. She’d fix it even if it meant tearing herself apart.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #too much too soon #chatzy: kyle #chatzy: morgan #kyle #morgan #//OKAY this is probably the last one for now #/for now/#anyway it's short and sweet :)#so soft :))

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bedtimebrain · 4 years ago

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EXO D.O.:A little Jealous Part 2! (D.O. POV)

Previously I mentioned I might or might not do Ksoo’s but I started writing out of fun and decided to complete it! I really liked this one, hope you guys will like it too! You might wanna do a fast read at part 1 again so it wouldn’t seem too abrupt~

And for those that are new here, there’s a Part 1 and Part 2 (Your POV) to this scenario! The part 2s can be read as a either or if you don’t really wanna read both.

Part 1 Part 2 Your POV

Here it goes!

—————

Kyungsoo walked straight out of the door without thinking, letting his legs bring him to wherever was quiet. Heading for the elevator, he punched for the ground floor. Seeing an empty cafe as the elevator doors open, he sat down at an empty table trying to sort his thoughts.

The comments he saw kept running through his mind:

‘Cute!Ship ship!’

‘Last long! Was waiting for you guys to make it official!!

‘after so long, finally?!’

A part of Kyungsoo wants to believe in you, surely this was a misunderstanding.

Yet the comments he saw didn’t make sense to him. It made him afraid to give his trust, not wanting to feel like a fool if it turned out for the worst.

Kyungsoo can’t help but compare himself with that guy in the picture. The guy sure looks taller than him and better built . He even had those looks that guys would take a second look at..

Pulling out his phone, he thought to type a text to you, but not sure what to say. Typing then deleting it again and again. Just then, Suho’s call came in:

S: Kyungsoo-ya, the photographer’s wife got into an accident. He’s postponing the remaining shoot to rush to the hospital. We’re heading off , are you coming with us?

KS: uh okay. Hyung could you take my bag for me? I’ll meet you guys at the carpark.

—

In the van, everyone was tired after a long day and the van was quiet. But at the back, jongin and junmyeon sat beside Kyungsoo with some sort of tense silence.

‘Hyung, are you not going to ask Y/N about what happened?’ Jongin asked

‘Kyungsoo ya, jongin is right. You sitting here and overthinking isn’t going to solve the situation. Even though that guy is really handsome, you’re not goin to lose to him if y/n loves you. Text her or look for her’

Junmyeon’s words hit kyungsoo right where it hurts. Making a decision, he asked the manager to drop him off when the van passed by your living estate.

Kyungsoo walked nervously to your apartment, not really sure what he should exactly do when he sees you. Before he knew it, he was already right in front of your door. Taking a breath in, he pressed the door bell.

‘Minho ya!!’ Came your voice from behind the door.

Hearing his girlfriend call another guy’s name so frantically made him feel just a little strange.

Looking up at you as you opened the door, he saw your look of surprise, or was it shock(?)

‘Oppa, why are you here ? Did your photoshoot end early? You didn’t text me back tho...’

Though hearing your questions, he was not being able to hold back that feeling of discomfort bugging him to ask

‘Uh are you expecting someone? Minho?’

‘Oh right, speaking of which I dont need him now, let me drop him a text. Oppa come in and kill the bug for me please!!’ His eyes dropped to your hands that were pulling his arm, making him feel fuzzy in a moment, then downcast again. How long as it been since you guys last met? So long that he almost forgot this feeling of warmth only you could give him.

With thoughts clouding his mind, he killed the bug, dumping it away without even speaking to you. Not because he didn’t want to , but he doesn’t know how to. Just then, you gave him a hug suddenly ,

‘Thank you, for killing the bug’

Seeing that smile on your face reminded him just how lucky he was to have you and how much he hated these feelings of uncertainty and anxiousness right now.

Sitting down on the sofa together, you linked your arms with him, then suddenly breaking the silence.

‘Oppa, do you have something to tell me? You don’t look particularly excited or happy to be here today’

Kyungsoo felt his throat going dry, thinking, it’s scary how easily you knew him inside out even though he was so indecipherable to other people...

Setting his mind to stop avoiding the issue, he reached for the water on the table, almost hoping the water would clean up his thoughts for him.

‘I saw that picture. The one on instagram.’ Not exactly having the courage to look at you, he glanced over your eyes quickly and waited for your reply.

‘Ah that.. sorry oppa, it was a dare I had to do at the team dinner, I tried so hard to avoid it but I couldn’t say I was attached either.. ’

Choosing not to be convinced just yet, kyungsoo added quickly

‘But the string of comments sure made it sound like you guys are the most popular ship in your school?’

He saw a small frown on your face briefly and his heart was pumping so loudly in his ears. What if .....

‘Oppa that’s actually Minho in the picture. And you know we are just really close friends.’

At this Kyungsoo was a little taken aback. He did not expect that to be Minho. In your description, Minho was an over competitive loser and one that’s always up to dumb things. This absolutely gave Kyungsoo a false impression that he’s just another childish guy out there or some lanky guy in the track team.

He tried to convince himself to be understanding afterall he knew deep down you both were just friends. But who was he kidding, he suddenly really hated the idea of you and Minho hanging out together everyday, giving everyone the false impression that you both are a couple.

Not being able to contain that internal conflict, he blurted out without thinking ‘I don’t really like you hanging out with minho.’

Crap. Hearing his own voice saying it, he felt selfish and guilty, yet also raw and vulnerable because that’s how he truly felt.

‘Oppa, you were always okay with minho and i hanging out. Why does us taking a picture change that!?’ Seeing you suddenly getting up and raising your tone in exasperation, he knew he hit the trigger button.

But similarly, he was almost at his breaking point now. Not being able to keep his emotions under control anymore, he shot back

‘y/n do you know how i felt looking at those comments?! I am not okay with the whole school thinking you both are together when you’re supposed to be my girlfriend!’ and he too got up from the sofa in frustration.

‘Ya! Even if i am not friends with minho, I can’t always avoid such situations! Because i can’t tell anyone i’m attached, guys still hit on me and people think they can pair me up with random guys because they think i’m single!

To me, they can think whatever they want but minho is just a friend. Oppa, shouldn’t you of all people understand this the most?’

Understand ? Is this how idols who date non idols communicate with their partners when they face scandals and what not? Who would have thought the situation would be reversed this way for himself ?

‘You’re asking me to understand when minho actually looks your ideal type? And i never knew about it?’

The words left his lips, seeming to surprise both you and him. He tried so hard to bury this insecurity inside him. But feeling all hurt and angry with himself, with this situation, he couldn’t really hold it in to deal with it himself. When he first saw Minho’s picture, even he had to admit minho was good looking. And now knowing someone like him was your close friend, he struggled to handle this truth.

‘My ideal type? If we wanted to get together, we would have long ago ok! Why would I get together with you then him?!’

At this it rendered him speechless. That ‘assurance’ was not assurance at all as you both reach the peak of your argument and let silence rule the house. Scenarios of you and Minho hanging out together, having fun kept passing through his mind. How Minho was far better looking than him, far more fun than him, maybe even far more compatible with you than him were thoughts that rudely barge through his mind.

Feeling like this was more than what he could bear at the moment, he was about to walk away, but right there and then your hands wrapped around his waist, in between his arms, and leaning unto his chest. Though you did not say a thing, he understood your gesture of love. Overwhelmed with emotions, he muttered

‘When I saw that picture, it felt like my nightmare came true. Every night i get worried that you would one day get tired of dating an idol.. Or even dating someone like me..

we don’t spend alot of time together but you always get to be with minho.. so much that people think you’re both attached..’

He knew this sounded weak and clingy , someone he doesn’t ever want to be in front of you. But your hug gave him courage to be honest, knowing that sometimes he doesn’t have to pretend like he can hold everything together when he really couldn’t. Through your hug, he knew that some of these insecurities were unfounded because he felt loved right at that moment. Yet the battle with his inner demons has not ended.

You pulled kyungsoo back down on the sofa and started

‘oppa, i cannot promise you people will stop misunderstanding minho and i, but i will be more careful to draw a clearer line in our friendship for you.

and i never thought of minho as my ideal type or saw him in a way more than friends. i know it might not put you at ease hearing me say this, but can you trust me?

I have been friends with minho for many years and have met many guys too. But it’s you for me ok?’

Looking into your eyes, he quietly let the words you say sink in and thought inside ‘it’s you for me too, don’t leave’

Poking him at his stomach, you continued

‘though you may not be the most attractive looking man out there…’

He knew you were joking, but he can’t help feeling a little down at your words, until you gave him a peck on the cheek and continued

‘but you make me feel comfortable and special all at the same time. saranghae oppa, you’re the only one.’

At your words, he couldn’t hold back his urge to pull you closer, resting his chin on your head he said

‘ Though i still don’t feel the best about our situation and about minho, but i know we can’t help this.. Just promise to stay with me please’

You raised your pinky finger and turned up to face him, replying brightly

‘ i promise you oppa!’

Linking your pinkies together, the storm inside kyungsoo finally cleared up today. Smiling back at you, he says the words he longs to say to you everyday till forever

‘na do saranghae’

#exo scenario #exo #exo kyungsoo #exo d.o.#do kyungsoo scenarios #do kyungsoo #exo do kyungsoo #kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo scenarios #kyungsoo #d.o. scenario #d.o. fanfic #d.o. scenarios #kyungsoo jealous #exo fanfic #exo scenarios #exo jealous scenario #exo jealous

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tvmblrdothailey · 5 years ago

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Bnha x trans woman reader

A/N: I decided to write an x reader where the reader is a trans woman. To any trans woman reading this I just want you to know thAT I FŪCKING LOVE YOU💙💖🤍💖💙🥰😘🥰😘🥰😘 YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I WILL LITERALLY FIGHT ANYONE WHO HURTS YOU.

Warning: Cursing, Transphobia, mentions of Sex Reassignment Surgery, Gender Dysphoria. Karen

(Y/N): Your name

(D/N): Your dead name

Summary: It took a while for your parents to accept you for who you are, you just hoped your classmates and teachers would accept you as well.

- Before the first day, you had recieved your school uniform, but it turned out to be a mens uniform. To which you had to “politely” ask them to send you the correct uniform.

- Once you made it to class you were immediently introduced to a green haired male who you’d later find out was named Izuku. Then you met Uraraka, Iida, Asui, etc.

- Eveything was going well until your teacher showed up and immediently had you all sent to change into P.E uniforms.

- It wasn’t the uniform that was the problem, it was the fact that none of them knew you were trans and had to share a changing room with other woman. And even though they seemed friendly at first, you still were unsure how’d they react.

- In the past you had to learn the hard way that a smile can really hide someones true colors and that not all people are willing to accept you for who you are and not what you are.

- It’s worth noting that you havent had Sex Reassignment Surgery yet, because you couldnt afford it. (You did take medication though)

- And even though you were generally confident about your Gender, you still had your moments where you started to doubt yourself abd even questioned if you were a real woman (WHICH YOU FRICKING ARE OKAY!!! 😤💙🤍💖)

- Once you were in the womans lockerroom, you tried your best to find a place where you could change without any of them seeing you. So far it was going good until Uraraka came looking for you. She blushed and in a panic you told her you were a trans woman.

- You froze for a few seconds before hearing Uraraka’s voice “Oh...okay, well just so you know, I think you’re a very beautiful woman!” My god you had to hold back from giving Uraraka a hug right then and there.

- Later down the line you had come out to the rest of the girls as a Trans woman, to which they all responded with hugs and affection.

- “We don’t care if you’re trans, you’re still the same (Y/N) we know and love.” -Hagakure

- “It doesnt matter whats in your pants, if you identify as a woman, then you’re a woman.” - Jirou

- “I am literally pink, and you think I’d judge you because of your gender? Hell nah, get over here and let me love you!” - Mina

- “If anyone tells you otherwise you come to me and I will have a “friendly” chat with them.” -Momo

- “Ribbit, You’ll always be our friend (Y/N), no matter what.” -Tsu

- They would die for you

- With the help of the other girls, you eventually came out to Aizawa, and he promised that you would be treated the same just as any other student. And if anyone gives you any problems you bring it to him for him to deal with. (Protective dad tm)

- Eventually the entire class knew and you felt the biggest weight fall of your shoulders.

- “It does’nt matter, you’re still (L/N) (Y/N). And we all care about you. 💚” -Izuku

- “I don’t give a damn about your gender! So stop it with that self-concious shit.” -Bakugo. Although his words may seem harsh, he really cares about you and is willing to blow up any wall, building or mountain to chase away any Dysphoria you may have.

- You had to exaplain it a couple of times for Todoroki since he was never educated about that kind of stuff, but once he got it he immediently replied “I didn’t know people could do that. Thank you for telling me, and I’ll do everything I can to support you.” 🤍❤️

- Of cource there were going to be some students who felt the need to belittle you...

- One time in the Caffiteria, Monoma had walked up to your table and desided that today would be the day he would be the biggest dick in the world

- “It’s shocking how people say Class 1A is one of the hardest courses to get into, yet they let someone like you in.” He said

- You looked at him “Excuse me?”

- “I’m just saying when you think about it scientifically, you’re still a man no m- “ Monoma didn’t get to finish his sentence before Kendo slapped him, knocking him out cold.

- “Hey, sorry about him (Y/N). I knew he was low but I didn’t think he was that low.” She then smiled at you “Don’t listen to him, he’s just desperate to finding ways to make his class seem better because of some imaginary rivalry that’s only exist in his head. Anyway, I need to take him to Recovery girl to get his brains checked, but I’ll see you later!”

- Kendo was the best, and she made sure that Monoma got a stern lecture from Vlad later that day.

- Then there was the Mall incident, when the class was going on a trip to the mall to buy supplies for Summer training camp, but then you ran into an Ex friend.

- Emphasis on the word EX

- “(D/N)?” They said. To which you froze, you recgonized that voice anywhere and you could already tell that this conversation wasn’t going to be friendly.

- You slowly turned around “Hey Karen...” She didnt look that diffrent, fake nails, fake jewlery, fake personality...what?

- “Why are you dressed like a woman?” She said.

- You groaned before responding “Because I am a woman, Karen.” You tried to walk away from her in order to avoid confrontation, the last thing you needed were hundreds of eyes on you. You made a note to yourself to come back tommorow when you would’nt have to deal with her. But you’re taken out of your thoughts as you feel someone grab your shoulder and spin you around.

- “Do you think it’s funny? To make fun of mental illness?” She said.

- There was a point in time when Karens words didnt offend you anymore, they just frustrated you because of how dumb and ignorant she sounded.

- “Karen, I have told you multiple times that I am a woman, I am not mentally ill, I am human. I get that it might be confusing for you but it’s not for me. I am happy the way I am okay?”

- “You’re the one that’s confused. You think you’re a girl but you’re a boy no matter what? That’s just how the human body works.” She shot back. At this point multiple eyes were already on you two. Some looked uncomftorable, others look confused and then there were a few that looked disgusted. Just a few people had the power to send Dysphoria crawling back into your mind.

- You started to hear fast footsteps before hearing “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY YOU BOOTLEG BARBIE BITCH?!”

- Oh hey bakugo (we’re gonna pretend him, Kiri and Shoto came along aight)

- “Bakugo, It is unacceptable to call a woman by such a deragatory term! Even though she was being rude to (Y/N) there are better ways to-“ Iida was cut off by Bakugo

- “SHUT THE HELL UP FOUR EYES!” Kiri then had to hold bakugo back while Todoroki and Uraraka steped in between you and Karen.

- “Don’t ever talk to our friend like that, she is more of a woman than you’ll ever be. I’d suggest that you walk away right now, our friend can only hold back Bakugo for so long.” Todoroki said

- Uraraka helped calm your nerves and whispered to you “Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous because you can wear a dress better than her.”

- AIGHT, now the training camp.

- During the training camp, Tiger had not only helped you get stronger, but also helped scare away any Gender Dysphoria that remained inside your head.

- “Don’t ever let peoples harsh words get to you! You are doing this for yourself and that’s what matters!” He said

- When it was time to take a bath, you didn’t hesitate to get into the hot springs. The encouraging words Tiger gave you along with the constant support of your friends had made you feel safe and happy. You could’nt ask for better friends.

Bonus:

* IF YOU DO NOT PLAN ON HAVING SEX REASSIGNMENT SURGERY THEN YOU CAN IGNORE THIS PART

- One moment that stuck out was when momo dropped the question “Hey (Y/N), you dont have to awnser this but I was wondering, why have’nt you gone through Sex Reassignment Surgery? Are you not comftorble with it or...?”

- “Oh, I just dont have the money for it.” You responded

-Way way later on.

- your birthday was finally around the corner

- On the big day you woke up to your friends Uraraka and Midoriya at your door and they dragged you to the main room where the rest of the class along with Mr. Aizawa were.

- You noticed a large envelope on the coffe table and they looked at you before Hagakure urged you to open it.

- When you did you found two gifts, one was a shirt

- And the other was a smaller envelope with the words Class 1A written on the back. You opened the envelope and pulled out a card and opened it to which a small keychain fell out that said “trans woman are real woman” and if that wasn’t wholesome enough...

- You looked inside the card but before you could begin reading Aizawa interupted and asked you to read it outloud.

- “Dear (Y/N), words can not describe how wonderful you are, how brave, how strong, or how amazing of a person and classmate you are. We all love you! When you came out to us as a transwoman, we all immediently wanted to make sure you knew you were valid and loved. It’s come to our attention that you haven’t had sex reassignment surgery because you are unable to afford it. So we banded together and decided we would help pay for your surgery-“ you couldn’t finish as you were allready in tears and you looked at Aizawa and the rest of the class to confirm that they were not messing with you.

- “I’ve already talked with your parents all you have to do is set up an appointment and all that fun stuff.” Aizawa said.

- Your tears turned into water falls and your classmates all went to give you hugs and affection. You thanked each of them through your tears of joy and hiccups.

- Definitely a Birthday that would be remembered.

TUMBLR DESITED TO DELETE 65% OF THIS POST THAT I POURED MY HEART AND SOUL INTO 😭

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x you #class 1a #class 1a x reader #bnha x trans woman reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader

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ruluxe · 4 years ago

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First Line Tag Game III

Hey hey hey tagged by @gaytaiga this time, tysm my dude! (ALSO tagging you back if you want to list more!!)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

This will likely be more finished works than wips because I deleted wattpad all other writing accounts that had wips a long time ago. I might throw in some excerpts from my unfished webcomic series though!

Tagging anyone else who wants to do this again, so make sure if you do it to tag me!

1. Pollution — Character Bible Series [Christian Cavanaugh/Luca Braun wip]: The brain's ability to remember and conveniently forget is a peculiar thing. It often represses the bad memories, trauma's strange like that. Someone could live an entire lifetime without remembering anything yet the slightest sensation could trigger the worst memory locked away in the darkest depths of the psyche and worlds could come crashing down. [2019, Original Work]

2. Pollution — Character Bible Series [Benjamin Keller/Parker Madison/Oz Hellsinger wip]: His skin is sticky beneath the mask; mouth and nose obstructed but his eyes are not. Still, it serves its purpose of concealing his identity-- or at least Benji hopes it does. The heat from his breath rises while beads of sweat swim down his brows and into his eyes so he can’t stop blinking rapidly. The contact in his right eye starts to shift and his vision is blurred momentarily before he's able to blink it back into place. Someone beside Benji urges him to hurry up. [2018-2019, Original Work]

3. (I Found You) In a Melody [galahau/abandoned]: The ivory beneath his fingertips is cool and smooth, making the stroking motion of his fingers waltzing across keys as easy of an action as breathing. Mellow notes flood the lounge as the cello kicks in, and Galahad’s eyes slide shut so he can tune into the music; the slow rattle of the snare or the bass drum kicking in at the perfect intervals, the taper of the cymbals and the resonating pluck of the cello strings. The sharps are chiming off the airwaves like dewdrops and finally the soft-silk flow of the lounge singer’s voice is the finishing touch to round off the harmony. [2015, Gangsta.]

4. Binding Patience [galahau]: Perhaps anyone with impatience wouldn't waste the time, but Hausen has all the time in the world when the end result is Galahad trembling on his knees at the edge of the bed, arms and hands bound in intricate patterns of rope behind his back, tethered and wound thick around his ankles like cast iron fetters. [2015, Gangsta.]

5. Radio Silence [galahau]: There's an audible click as the playback device ejects Doug's tag, and despite Galahad doing his best to clean off the blood, his eye still catches laces of it tarnishing the shineless metal. [2015, Gangsta.]

6. Turnabout’s Fair Play [Worick Arcangelo, character study]: It starts with him splayed out and down on his knees, covered in the grime and filth of Ergastulum still clinging to his bruised and broken skin. He should have known better than to leave the sanctity of home by himself, but it’s getting harder and harder to look Nicolas in the face when all he sees is the shadow of his family’s blood splattered across it. [2015, Gangsta.]

7. The Aftermath [XS/1029]: Long after the chaos dies down and everyone’s left the hospital, Squalo’s not supposed to leave his bed but it doesn’t stop him from sauntering off to Xanxus’s private room. He suspects to find the other propped up against the many embroidered satin pillows he demanded from Lussuria with his brows drawn pensively, a miserable scowl on his face despite him supposed to be at peace in slumber. [2015, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

8. The End of Things [8059/yamagoku]: It starts with a kiss, slow and sensual, warm like the rising sun and just as bright. Yamamoto's pretty sure this will be the most memorable kiss of his life, knows it'll be the best kiss of his life, with the spicy smoke lingering off Gokudera's tongue etched into his brain; that's something he'll never forget. [2015, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

9. Pyrexia [aokise]: When Kise wakes, it's to a throbbing headache and dull pain behind the eyes. His throat is burning raw and his joints ache, his muscles ache, everything is sore. He groans, feeling the heat of a fever spread through his skin like the heat of an unforgiving July sun is bearing down on him. [2015, Kuroko no Basuke]

10. Once. [deliyang]: He doesn't think before he moves, he just does. It's with snap-quick reflexes that he rips his gun from it's holster and aims it at the men in front of them. And Erica. Erica's there too... but it's not really Erica, is it. Things are never once what they seem. [2015, Alter End Series, Gangsta.]

11. Lightweight [D18/dinohiba]: It's quarter to four in the morning when Dino hears the scrape of metal against metal, the dragged out clinking of the keys against the lock. He's a little irritated, if he's being totally honest. It's not unusual for Kyoya to come home at this hour but it isn't unusual for Kyoya to not keep in contact during the day and explain himself or his whereabouts either. But perhaps there's a good reason as to why he's arriving home at four in the morning. In their line of work it's not like it isn't possible, but it had better be good if it's going to keep him in Dino's good graces. [2015, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

12. Mood — Permanent Petals Epilogue [8059/yamagoku]: It isn’t that Gokudera wakes up in bad moods, in fact for the last few years waking up has been as pleasant as getting a full night’s sleep; no more shadowed insomnia plaguing the soft pale underneath his eyes, no more jittery and short cut patience – he is currently very content with his sleeping arrangements in this moment and all other moments that have passed and ones he has to look forward to in the future. [2015, Permanent Petals Gift Fic, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

13. Domestic [deliyang]: The house smells of eggs and rice, the heady aroma of rich-brewed coffee clings to the air. With an appreciative inhale, Delico’s lips slide into a smile easy as he makes his way downstairs.

14. : Advice [aokaga/abandoned]: Kagami isn't fond of days like these, no practise or games to keep him busy and the lack of a distraction leaves his mind to wander to thoughts that end up leaving a bad taste in his mouth.Aomine has been avoiding him lately, he's been distant and more acerbic than usual and Kagami can't bring himself to ask Aomine what the problem is. [2015, Open Spaces Series, Kuroko no Basuke]

15. When Time Stands Still [8059/yamagoku]: Sometimes you sit there for hours, your expression blank and your limbs numb and everything around you is eerily quiet but you can’t turn the volume down on the static noise that buzzes frenetically inside your head. You grit your teeth, you cover your ears but that can’t stop the sound. You get drunk, you take pills — despite your hatred for all things medicinal — but no amount of haze can muffle the shrillness. [2015, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

16. Broken [imahana]: It ends with Hanamiya on his knees, scuffed and scabbed and bloody and Imayoshi can’t be sorry for choosing the blacktop that’s as cracked and overused as Hanamiya is. There’s something about having him out here in the open, stripped of his clothing and dignity that sets Imayoshi’s skin on fire, gets him hot and irritated and he needs Hanamiya’s raw vulnerability to ease the itch whenever he gets it. [2014, Kuroko no Basuke]

17. Living the Dream [sourin]: Sousuke's shoulder aches and the near scalding hot water does little to soothe the pain. He's an idiot, he knows without a certain redhead having to tell him this, but determination is something that's bred into him and he just doesn't seem to know when to quit. He grits his teeth through the blinding white when he moves his shoulder just slightly and it jars him with enough force to make him nauseous. It makes him angry, makes him wish for a time machine so he can go back and do things differently. [2014, Free!]

18. Youth [S80]: It begins with standing on a ledge, too high to come off from for it's your only salvation now that you no longer have the resolve to live. But it's when the no-good boy with the large, round eyes saves you and tells you there is hope that you begin to believe. It's the smell of the baseball diamond, the warm sun and the air of dirt and sweat and perseverance that make you feel like you're where you should be. It's the fleeting feelings when you dash from base to base and slide in to home plate that make this age in time seem like an eternal stretch that you never want to leave. [2014, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

19. Rewind > Pause > Play [aokaga]: They had been fighting all day. Stupid, trivial, bickering arguments that had mounted into several, major shouting matches which in turn, had nearly lead to the end of their relationship. The months prior to this, Daiki thinks, should have been a warning of what was to come. [2014, 2021 REVISED, Kuroko no Basuke]

20. The Sidelines [aokaga]: Everyone thinks because you're stubborn that must make you dense. Everyone thinks because you're so self centered that all you see is you. Perhaps that were true in the later years of your Teikou run, perhaps that were true until you met him. You're curious about that enigmatic red head that has managed to surpass Kise and Midorima. You're intrigued of Tetsu's new light. When you find him out on the court that day, it isn't just coincidence. You need to know what this guy is all about. So you offer up a game of one-on-one. [2014, Kuroko no Basuke]

#gaytaiga #tag meme #ru.writes #galahau #deliyang #8059 #sourin #aokise #aokaga #S80 (khr)#imahana #worick arcangelo #i skipped over a lot of 8059 and gangsta. stuff lol #and all my old aokaga fic bc i hate them lol #thanks for the tag! looking forward to seeing more of your fic! ^^#i have so many outlines and just word vomit in docs but nothing in fic like form so thats why this has significantly less wips

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curlystom · 5 years ago

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written — peter parker

a/n: phew! so this is a repost from my old blog which i regretfully deleted (a story that i will go into another time) but i’m back! since all of my college courses are online now, i have been writing like crazy! expect to see some familiar and new stories soon. i have a lot planned. it’s good to be back (:

You admired the faint stars scattered across the night, winter sky as the bus slowed to a stop. The fluffy snow covered everything in its track, making it impossible for you to appreciate the true New York beauty. Your grip on your shoulder strap loosened, grateful that you didn’t have to carry the thousand pound backpack any longer. The tension in your shoulder throbbed as your carried textbooks begged to be put down, massaging the area once you plopped down in an empty row.

The cold air from outside contradicted with the warmth inside the vehicle, making the windows fog. You scooted yourself towards the edge of the bus and tugged on your hoodie sleeve so you could wiped the glass, leaving thin lines of water droplets behind.

The blinking street lamps you passed by barely illuminated the area around it. The light reflected off the pure, white snow so effortlessly, making the dark night seem a bit brighter. It was a sight you would have loved to appreciate, but the radiance was blurred by the fog and your eyes squinted at the difference in brightness.

You twiddled with your fingers, memories of the last few hours replaying like your favorite movie. A smile tugged your lips the more you thought about it.

Open textbooks were sprawled out all across the library table, your laptop resting among them along with a few bags of chips and power drinks. Your cheek rested against your palm, strands of your y/h/c hair falling in front of your face. Attempting to blow them out of your face, you glared when the seemingly easy task was failing.

Your arm fell against the table as you rested your head against your upper arm, wanting to let your eyes flutter close so badly. Studying for over 6 hours had taken its toll on you and it was very evident. The darkening under eyes and pale complexion gave you away.

A cup of coffee was exaggeratedly placed in front of you, forcing your eyes to open. Peter’s hands were on either side of him, resting against the table as he tilted his head to the side to look at you, a small smiling forming at the sight.

“You look like complete shit.” His lips were forced into a hard line, trying to muffle his laughter from other surrounding students.

You groaned, a fake cry leaving as you sank into the uncomfortable chair, the cushion no longer giving you the support you desperately needed.

Your hands covered your tired face, “God, I know. You don’t need to remind me. I’ve been here for over 6 hours.”

“Which is why..,” he scooted the coffee closer to you, “I got you that.”

He pulled the remaining chair from under the table, forcing you to place your feet back on the ground and unmask your face from him. Hesitating for a bit, you couldn’t resist his offer and slowly started to grab the drink, keeping your eyes on him. His eyebrows raised at your reaction as he slowly took a seat, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers.

Your eyes examined the outside, squinting to make sure there was nothing off about this specific drink. His eyes were locked on you, an eyebrow raised as to why you were acting so strange. Perhaps the coffee would wake you up a bit. Your lips met the plastic cover, a slight burning sensation coming over your tongue as you took a small sip. You were truly too tired to panic.

The bitter taste lingered in your mouth, slowly approving the drink by smacking your lips together and giving a slow nod. He sighed in relief as you went to take another sip, thankful that he had made the right call on what coffee to get you. He turned around the books to see what you had been buried in the past few hours, asking questions about what your upcoming exam was about.

You weren’t listening.

Your eyes examined every part of his face as your lips softly brushed against the coffee lid, taking in every detail one by one.

His freckles replicated the bright stars above you, scattered in the most beautiful way possible. The red tint in his cheeks slowly began to fade into his pale skin, growing more comfortable with the temperature change. A few loose curls fell in front of his face seamlessly, your urge to run your fingers through his locks becoming stronger. His brown orbs exhibited small gold flecks as they scanned the pages, your lips parting at just how mesmerizing they were to look at.

He was breathtaking.

“Y/N?”

Your eyelids flickered as you shook your head, the coffee taking its time to fully sink in your system. Forcing your eyelids to stay open, you took a deep breath in as you fully gave your attention to the boy in front of you. “Hm?”

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows pinched together in concern, “You zoned out.”

“Jus’ exhausted.” You lied, taking another sip of your coffee. He gave you a small, sympathetic smile before forcing his lips into a tight line.

His eyes scanned the many books in front of you, developing a headache just by looking at them. He gripped the wooden arm rests and pushed himself up, closing each book and began to pack them in your bag.

You stood up as well, placing your cup of coffee on the table with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “W-what are you doing?” You grabbed the books from his grasp, immediately deeping a deep breath when you felt how warm his touch was. A flustered laugh begged to escape but you bit the inside of your mouth from letting that happen.

“I am helping you pack up.” He gently closed your laptop and slipped it in its case, placing it in your backpack and zipping it up nicely. “You need to get some sleep.”

You opened your mouth to protest his actions and to try and convince him that you were fine, but it was no use. Waving his index finger at you, he held the strap of your backpack and encouraged you to take it and go home. A groan left your lips as you rolled your eyes, exaggeratedly grabbing the strap from him and throwing it over your shoulder. Your hand gripped around the coffee while the other waved at Peter, his face displaying a look of “you know i’m right”.

He was always right. It was a love/hate relationship with you. The boy never seemed to answer any question wrong, and his morals and values were ones you’d dream of in a partner. There was truly nothing wrong about the boy, and it was no shocker that you’d fallen head over heels for him.

You had been lucky enough to become his friend over the last 4 years. Having the same communications class definitely sparked a flame between the two of you, instantly becoming partners for every project and studying together. The chemistry you had with each other was undeniable, and it made it even harder not to fall in love with him.

He was everything you aspired to be. His aunt, who is the sweetest lady you’d ever met, received so much affection and love from her nephew, you couldn’t help but smile everytime you saw them together. He tutored other fellow students and volunteered with charities in his free time, truly surprised that he had any.

Peter was a busy guy, and the fact he still made sure to check up on you was the cherry on top.

Heat rushed to the apples of your cheeks at the thought of him, your hands covering them as much as you could so no one could see how flustered you had gotten. You bit your lip to prevent an excited squeal from slipping through, your eyes shutting close before slowly opening, staring out the glass.

The previously wiped area on the window had developed a new layer of fog, covering the entire area again. Water droplets stood still despite the the movement of the bus, your eyes admiring each and every one of them. Downtown New York was barely visible through the fogged glass, but the sight, nevertheless, was still breathtaking.

Colorful lights illuminated the night sky, the light peeking through the fog and displaying on your lap. Your hand peeked through the sleeve of your hoodie as you held out your index finger, meeting it with the freezing glass and traced Peter’s name with a little heart next to it.

A few droplets formed on your side of the glass, sliding down the newly written name. The wet residue resided on your finger before you wiped it off on your jeans, smiling at the letters on the window. The bus had slowed to a stop, and the surroundings indicated that this was your stop. You took one last look at the window before grabbing the strap of your backpack, thanking the bus driver, and stepping off the bus.

Peter sat a few rows behind you, his eyes following you as you departed. A small smile tugged at his lips at how carelessly beautiful you were. A few pieces from you bun were curled, framing your face perfectly. A rosy tint colored your cheeks, either from the frosty weather or being flustered. The way your corners of your eye crinkled when you smiled made his heart pound against his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. You were unlike anyone he had ever seen.

His eyes trailed back to where you were previously sitting and landed on the fogged glass. The letters you had written were slowly disappearing but it was legible enough for him to read. He had watched you trace your finger along the frosted glass, seeing the slight flinch you made when you realized how cold it was, but you had placed it just right where anyone behind couldn’t see it.

The butterflies in his stomach intensified by 100, and his heart seemed to have beat faster when he comprehended what you had wrote. You, a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate girl, felt nearly the same way he did about you. Time played a big role in this particular moment. He had met you years ago, unsure of his feelings for you and never really tested the waters. He remained close friends with you, bringing you coffee during your late study sessions and advising you to do what was best.

He was scared to break that wall, not wanting to change a relationship he was very appreciative of. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, but now he was going to fight for you until his last dying breath.

#i have forgotten how much i loved tumblr #and writing #and just everything in general #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #tom holland one shot #peter parker fic

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renaxwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Eleven

.05 - Girl Almighty

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death, depression

masterlist: here :)

a/n: this honestly was such an endearing chapter to write. we finally learned what happened in y/n’s past, and her bond with mizuki grows strong. also, for this chapter and the next, I’m doing a lot of cultural research to try and incorporate it in the story, and it feels really cool to be exploring the culture! hope you guys enjoy this one 🥺💕 yes I cried at one in the morning finishing this and what about it

previous || next

Her light is as loud as as many ambulances as it takes to save a savior.

Sleep. School. Practice. Home. Repeat. Soon, you were nearing the end of September without even knowing it. As the weeks had flown by, the tension between you and Tsukishima had only grown. Only, it wasn’t a ‘bad’ or ‘awkward’ kind of tension. It was more like a ‘something-is-happening-between-us-but-neither-of-us-know-what-it-is-or-how-to-address-it’ kind of tension.

As if the universe was tired of this ‘tip-toeing around each other’ crap, a special event was coming up that was definitely going to stir the pot. The Harvest Moon Festival.

“Tsukiiiii! Are you excited for Tsukimi tomorrow?” Yamaguchi teases. Tsukishima knowingly groans.

You look up from your camera, contemplating whether you should keep the last shot even though Tanaka photo-bombed it. “The moon-viewing? You guys do the festivals here, right?”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Yeah, it’s kinda ironic, isn’t it? The festivals usually fall around Tsukki’s birthday, so we usually do a joint-celebration! But this year, it’s a little earlier, so we won’t celebrate his birthday at the same time, but it’s still exciting!”

Tsukishima peers down at your camera, pressing the delete button faster than you can react. “Shouldn’t you know about it? You are Japanese, right?”

Pettily, you recover the photo from the recently deleted section. You were going to delete it anyway, but you just wanted to spite him. “I did celebrate, but I’ve always wondered how much more authentic it would be to celebrate it in my mother’s home country. It sounds like a lot of fun!”

Yamaguchi realizes you haven’t gone to the festival before, so he cheerily invites you to come along with him and Tsukki, to which Tsukishima replies, “My mom would probably force me to drag her along anyway. Might as well.”

His statement and tone implied that he didn’t want you to join, but you felt his gaze on you with a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes.

You agree, but are quick to come to a devastating realization.

��But I don’t have anything to wearrrrrr!” Cue two clueless-looking boys not knowing how to react.

Upon hearing distress, Yachi comes dashing to your rescue. “Y/N!! I heard your cry! I’m actually going shopping tonight for a new festival outfit, did you want to go with me?” She really was a savior at times.

You throw your arms around her in gratefulness. “You’re an angel! I would like nothing more than to accompany you! I’ll just text Mizuki to let her know where we’ll be…”

Yachi ponders for a moment. “Actually, do you think she would mind coming? I don’t want to bother her at all, but my mom’s staying late again, and I like having an adult’s second opinion…”

Fortunately, Mizuki was more than happy to bring you two to the downtown shops later that night. Once practice was over, you and Yachi bid your farewells to the boys and met up on the street corner, with Tsukishima trailing behind. Mizuki began to wave from under the streetlight, letting Tskishima know that dinner was already made, and that you won't be back too late. And so, the three of you were off!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Although your current location was quaint and serene, downtown was the opposite. There were endless amounts of shops, stands, and everything in between. Shoppers were bustling about, kids were frolicking in groups, and the smells of various foods wafted in the air. The energy in the downtown district was definitely lively and contagious.

Mizuki took a deep, content breath and turned to the two of you. “Alright ladies! I have a few shops in mind, so we can stop by those first just to ease into it. Let me know if you need anything! If you want to even stop for a snack, I certainly won’t hold you back, not when it smells as good as this! Alrighty, let’s goo!!”

The first shop was very quaint, but you were a bit clueless as to what you should be looking for. Good thing Mizuki and Yachi was there to guide you! You apparently were in search for a yukata, a more informal traditional robe that is similar to a kimono, but not quite. Great! Now that you knew what you were on the hunt for, how were you supposed to decide what color or pattern? Every shop you stopped by were overflowing with more patterns, colors, and combinations than you can possibly imagine.

By the third shop, Yachi had already picked hers, and was currently being fitted. She chose a radiant yellow, decorated with white carnations and pink morning glory flowers print.

“You look like a ray of sunshine, Yachi! Yellow definitely suits you,” you and Mizuki shower her with praise, causing her to flush pink.

You laugh as you admit, “This must be what prom dress shopping feels like, haha.” The two ladies curiously look at you, and you’re quick to explain how back at home it’s a huge deal to find the dress, since prom is the most anticipated formal event for American high schools.

Needless to say, the pressure of finding one that spoke to you began to worry you. You bring your hand to your locket. Mizuki noticed this, then eyed your locket for a brief moment.

“I think I know the perfect one that would go along with your locket. We’ll stop by once Yachi’s fitting is done,” she offers you a warm smile to calm your nerves.

Once Yachi’s outfit was purchased, the three of you head to a shop that was in an easy-to-overlook nook. The second you step inside, you’re greeted by two eager women, ready to meet your requests. You browse, but begin to feel a bit of gravitation towards the back of the shop. The invisible force brings you to a halt. In front of you is an absolute masterpiece.

The overall color was navy blue, as dark as the night sky above. But the design was what made it stand out. The yakuta was sprinkled with constellations, and thousands of silver stars were scattered around the fabric. Around the waist was a deep red obi, a wide silk sash designed with light moons and stars lined all around it.

You were speechless. It was perfect.

Mizuki looks over and finds you with your jaw slightly agape, looking entirely mesmerized.

She turns to the women and tells them, “That’s the one for her.” And they get to work on your fitting.

During your fitting, Yachi went to buy a couple of snacks for you to share, leaving you and Mizuki alone, with the two women helping. You raise your arms over your head as they measure your waist. Suddenly, you catch her drying what looks to be a couple of tears.

“What’s wrong, Mizuki? Are you alright?”

She tenderly looks over and chuckles, wiping another tear that managed to escape.

“It’s nothing, really. I just always wondered what it would be like to go dress shopping with a daughter…” she looks down at her hands, wringing them deep in thought. “My sons are wonderful, and I wouldn’t give them up for anything in the world, but I always loved shopping with my mother, even if it was buying a mere hair accessory. Her calling me beautiful... and, I don’t know...it kind of felt like that for a moment.”

She looks up at you and smiles. “You haven’t been with us for too long, but I speak for both myself and my sons when I say we are grateful that you’ve been led into our lives.”

You jump off the pedestal and tackle Mizuki into a tight embrace. “I’m glad I came, too.” She hugs you back, and you look at each other, and suddenly burst into laughter at your tear-stained faces.

“Alright, that’s enough baby tears. Now, get on up there so we can see the finishing touches,” she gently urges you. Just as the last details were being made, Yachi comes back, just in time.

She does a dramatic gasp. “Y/n, you look beautiful! It’s like all the stars wanted you to wear them!” She almost drops her snack out of pure shock, but manages to catch it.

Mizuki helps her carry them and agrees. “She’s right y/n. It also matches your locket color perfectly. I can see that it’s important to you, so it’s like both a piece of home and a piece of here going hand in hand.” Even the two women who fitted you were quick to offer their praise.

You look down at your outfit and tenderly put a hand on your locket. “It’s perfect.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The three of you drop Yachi off at her house, and once you were sure she was safely inside, you and Mizuki begin your trek home. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. The stars in the sky were glistening and drowned you in tranquil light.

Mizuki thoughtfully looks over at you. She’s carefully thinking of something she wants to say.

“Is there a story to the locket?”

You stop in your tracks and look up at the stars twinkling above you. The moon’s serene appearance gives you the courage to respond.

“This is the first gift my parents gave me, on their official wedding day. And now it’s the first and last thing I look at every day. It’s one of only things remaining from them that I own.” You look over to find sad eyes.

Mizuki’s eyes were not viewing you in the sense of pity, which you have always gotten for the past year. Instead, she was looking over with the most wholesome look in her eyes, wanting to help and protect you.

That encourages you to go on.

“My mother and father went out on one of their weekly date nights. They liked to go out on Friday nights to get ice cream down the road. They’ve done it since even before they got married. It was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You choke up.

“Almost a year ago now. My parents were on their way home. They got hit by a drunk driver. Eleven at night. I open the door to complete strangers telling me that their passing was instant, that there was nothing that could be done. November eleventh was the day that my life fell apart.”

You look up at the stars again.

“My relatives took care of me for the rest of the year. I wallowed in depression. Hardly moving, hardly eating. Hell, it even hurt to breathe. Knowing that my dad wouldn’t pop his head in my room just to tell me a joke to annoy me on purpose. Knowing that my mom wasn’t there to drink tea with me while she told her favorite childhood stories. Knowing that I wouldn’t see them dancing in the kitchen to their cheesy love song. Knowing they weren’t there.”

Your eyes are so clouded with tears your vision is extremely blurry, but you manage to lock eyes with her in understanding.

“My relatives thought it would be a good idea for me to transfer somewhere new for the start of high school. I had always wondered at the beauty of my mother’s home country. The way she would light up whenever she mentioned something as simple as the cherry blossoms floating in the breeze, or how the stars seemed to shine differently. Well, she was right about that,” you chuckle at the thought.

“So here I am, in Japan. Here to discover myself, but more importantly, I’m here for them too. I know they are always watching me from above, but this locket keeps me grounded at times when I need them the most. It reminds me of the times we’ve had. I think of the future they wanted me to strive for, it pushes me forward. I would give anything to heal the heartache, to fill up the emptiness of their missing presence. But I know they want me to be happy. It’s why I was brave enough to travel to a new place I’ve never been to, because in the end, I know I’m not alone. This locket reminds me of all that.”

More comfortable silence follows. Mizuki puts a warm hand on yours.

“Y/n, you are the bravest soul I have ever come to meet. If fate is what brought you here, then I am glad for it. You have such a bright, intelligent, endearing and determined soul. And I know for a fact that your parents are looking down on you right now and are smiling at the sight of their brave little girl persevering the odds. And there is absolutely nothing in this world that could demolish the love your parents have devoted to you. You really are special, y/n, don’t you ever forget that.”

The two of you embrace once more. You check the time, and the lateness caused the slow trek to a brisk walk back home.

It was Eleven o’ clock.

There’s something happening here. I hope you feel what I’m feeling too.

taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishimaimagine #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #eleven

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