#i wish i could fucking cry. i wish i had all the right proper elegant words for what im trying to say

[rockettransman]

i think being queer is the most important thing and experience, actually

[some thoughts from my twitter put together]

I am very constantly worried about scrutiny and eye rolling and scoffs about silly things I love but this is the POINT of storytelling. To have yourself SEEN, in the entire capacity that you are... it is too special for words.  And in another light it really is just two best buds doing their job - kissing and being romantic for the show, the story, but when that is your reality and it is reflected back at you wholeheartedly and accepted without question, and even celebrated... there are no WORDS! It is a Friday evening. My brain is fucking sore and exhausted from trauma burning every nerve ending. But I got to come home to a sweet story about two gay pirates in love. And man, do i need anything else? I feel very emotional. And content. And so happy. Man. queerness and who you love and your identity is so complex and personal and there are just not enough words to express that entirely. i just have a lot a lot of feelings and no proper thoughts to give them. 

my dad ripped up my johnlock drawing i made as a very scared and very angry kid. it was a sliver of myself i felt defiant enough to express. to get to grow up and see a romance between two men written and told explicitly FOR that romance. I just. MAN.  sticking around was fuckin worth it. you will be loved for who you are!  it was such a simple thought and inclusion on the writer's part. "oh, yeah. they'll be two men in love." but to so many queer people. it is seeing their reality reflected back at them as something included and celebrated and. and. i don't know. i wish i had the right words.  its just. you dont get the magnitude of it unless you grew up queer. to have something for us, to celebrate us. fuck man.  there will be goofs until the sun goes down about two silly gay pirates in love but at its core being queer is the most important and special thing, i think.

growing up in a home and a world where you didn't feel at home or safe or known in yourself, and then when you found the answer, but EVERY PART of YOU was wrong, and to get to witness this. it's just. MAN. i could say "YES IM TALKING ABOUT THE GAY PIRATES IN LOVE" and it could feel like such a silly hyperbolic thing but it is truly honestly very extremely touching and wonderful and gentle and sweet and safe.   

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye VIII — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Picturesque day framed by the window of the brightly lit clinic, cool air swirling around them aiding Belle’s anxiety in whatever slight way it could. Fingers gripped at her knitted lavender cardigan, pressing her legs together to somehow prevent more chill to flow through the white floral dress. She seemed to focus on every other little thing while the man in a white coat in front of quickly typed and clicked in his own time.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Jeon.” The doctor smiled as if he just confirmed the happiness of a new family.

Six weeks passed since Belle took the dozens of pregnancy tests haunting her with pink pluses until finally the doctor gave the final verdict. Thankfully with the Spring Line show coming in close to around a couple months, she was able to avoid any conversation of whether the ritual worked.

Ritual. Fucking hell what year was this?

Her silence caused a slight awkward confusion to grip the doctor’s face, almost as if he was inching close to a verdict that something was wrong.

Nothing should be wrong, Belle reminded herself. Happy relationship, remember?

The woman quickly adorned the perfect smile on her face using her glossy eyes as the sparkle of joy. “Sorry…it’s just all very exciting to take in.” She chuckled and thankfully the doctor was immediately convinced giving her a proper smile.

“Of course—very happy news though. I’m sure your entire family would be elated.” His grin stretched from ear to ear like he was related to her some way.

Then again anyone who so much as knew the Jeon family seemed to have that mindset.

“I’ll have your report prepared in just a few minutes, Mrs. Jeon.” He nodded in reassurance while Belle leaned back on the chair.

Gaze moved to the window looking out at the people strolling back and forth living their lives. She wondered how many were living by their own accord. Based on their own needs. Were they happy with where they were? Some rushing in suits trying not to drop their coffees, mothers and fathers pushing their strollers with toddlers skipping next to them and then couples walking calmly in casual clothing.

When she was younger, Belle told herself she would not end up in any of those situations. She would get a car, halt on marriage and kids while focusing on her career entirely until her thirties at the very least.

The naivety of dreams. Dreams of a life no one could ever control. Dreams that were already in the hands of fate.

“Mrs. Jeon?” The doctor addressed for the third time.

Belle finally realized that was her name now, stripping back to reality. Even her name was not under her control any more. Legally she had her original name but people wouldn’t care. Taking the husband’s name was more popular. So now she was officially Mrs. Jeon to society.

Quickly smiling she accepted the envelope handed to her and bowed slightly. “Thank you, doctor.”

-

Walking out of the clinic into the beautiful day, she spotted Yoongi leaning back against the side of the car with his arms folded over his chest. Raven hair a little longer now hovering over his eyes as he watched her taking a deep breath at the entrance stairs. “So?” He asked, squinting a little in the sunlight.

“What do you think?” Belle mumbled with the envelope heavy in her hand much like the twisted feeling in her stomach. Stepping down to the end of the stairs, she looked around every corner that was visible to her. Scanning for any movement.

“No peeping in the bushes, don’t worry.” The older male reassured, pushing off the car and opening the door for the new mob queen. Even though he would never use that term in front of her without risking a kick on his foot.

Strolling to the other side of the car, Yoongi couldn’t help but mimic Belle’s scanning and ended up seeing a figure lurking in one of the alleys. Not that he was proud of it but Yoongi pretended to reach into his coat for a gun which evidently caused the figure to rush out to the streets.

“Fucking reporters.” Yoongi muttered under his breath before climbing back into the car and driving them back to the mansion.

-

Being invited to Sangria House during the day had not been on Taehyung’s to-do list but here he was anyway being driven to the establishment, by Kim Seokjin’s personal request.

The establishment exuded a different aura during the day as they parked to a halt in front of it. Flowers adorned the entrance in an arch matching the blossom trees behind the building creating a beautiful frame, most of the angels strolling around with their customers linked in hand while a lot of the juniors were simply having picnics under on the ground like it was their own paradise rather than people who entered.

As he walked into the makeshift garden, white coats welcomed him with a bow and led him into the private room with a brief statement of having a full days’ appointment with the best angel in the House.

Full day. Seokjin seemed to know his way around apologizing, he supposed.

Even on the inside things were so much more different. Customers were eating food normally instead chortling the whole way through; they were genuinely having good conversations with the red and lavender coats as if it was not going to lead anywhere. Purple drapes were replaced with more floral arrangements in strings trailing across the walls and he could have sworn butterflies passed them a moment ago.

The white coats stopped down the hallway to a familiar door knocking politely first.

Taehyung already had an achingly strong hope of who to see on the other side of the door.

And thank god, luck was on his side today.

The door opened and gracing him with her presence stood Angel in a different attire. It was still golden but a more casual hanbok with intricate floral designs on the overcoat that shimmer in the light against the silk. Less extravagance but more quality. Taehyung could immediately recognize who designed the dress.

Angel’s heart swelled finally being able to see the man again especially after the horrid way he was dragged out. She could still remember all the things he told her…all the things that haunted him now slowly taunted her.

Once the door closed behind Taehyung, the golden lady padded closer to the male.

Eyes moved around his body before she took a leap to cup his cheeks. “You’re okay.” A bright grin spread across her lips but her forehead knitted like she was close to crying. “Come in.” Gently Angel took his hand and walked to the table.

Taehyung couldn’t help but feel his entire body relax into her touch, leaning slightly into her touch before happily holding her hand. “You did full day appointments too?” He would have asked for that package in a heartbeat.

Angel smiled as they sat next to each other this time, shoulders brushing together. “No this is not a normal thing. Mr. Kim just wanted to apologize for the inconvenience caused last time.” She reached out and gave him some rice cakes. “I know you probably don’t want our tea right now so…I asked them to make these.” She pulled apart one rice cake in half and took the first bite to ensure him that it was safe to eat.

Warmth spread across his chest watching how her cheeks puffed when she ate, hiding her mouth and smiling, trying to stay elegant but still enjoy the taste. Taehyung had the strongest urge to press little kisses on her adorable cheeks.

The golden lady held up the other half of the cake to his mouth, giving him a reassuring smile that it was okay to eat.

Taehyung was not proud to admit that it did not matter if she offered him literal poison, he would still drink it just so the last thing he saw was that fucking smile. Though the cake did smell heavenly. Opening his mouth slightly he waited until Angel brought the cake so close that it brushed against his lips before he took the treat into his mouth. As soon as Taehyung bit into the soft texture, a burst of warm sweetness burst through and he felt a small lump in his throat.

How long had it been since he was able to really taste something properly? The man could never tell whether he was healing or not in the process of vomiting, taking medications and other methods Taehyung deemed boring or painful. It was only now at this incredibly simple moment of recalling just how tasty a rice cake was. How much he loved it in the years before.

“Is it bad?” Angel noticed the smile faded from his face. “I could go get something else.” She tried to get up but Taehyung softly touched her arm.

“No I’m just—” Taehyung chuckled after swallowing, eyes a little glossy as he met her gaze. “I haven’t had rice cake in a long time. It was really nice.”

She relaxed once more sitting next to him allowing a comfortable silence to seep through the air for a few moments.

Eventually the curiosity peeked far too much for her to control. “So…how was the wedding?”

A boulder seemed to drop and crash onto the hope of relaxing in this session now the question lingered. Taehyung could not blame Angel for being curious as she probably had been working the whole time it was happening.

But now he was reminded of the things other than the actual ceremony. The fake vows and calculated kiss under the blossom trees was more for the press.

Taehyung learned the hard way that the real ceremony was behind closed doors. He only found out after it happened because every relative from the Jeon family wanted to chat with him giving him no time to go and check on his sister. Now he wished he just pushed past all of them and ran to her.

It was too late though. By the time Taehyung got the chance to see Belle in the early morning, she was already in tears and shaking beyond belief before jumping into his embrace. She did not say a word to him or anyone for that matter. The whole two nights they were there, his sister stayed quiet merely smiling to the people who didn’t matter. When he found out about the secret ceremony Taehyung did the same.

With Jungkook, he didn’t even bother smiling. Every time he came close his fingers automatically curled into a fist conjuring up all the ways he could just get rid of him.

Now more than ever Taehyung grew aware that his baby sister was going through pain beyond belief while he healed. Aside from the heart clenching sadness, he grew determined to see an end for Jeon Jungkook.

“Taehyung?” Angel placed a hand on his arm gently before pulling away quickly. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer.” Her fingers played with the fabric of her dress with her head hanging.

Taehyung jumped back to his current state and shook his head quickly. “No—” He shifted closer until his hand rested behind her. “No it’s okay. Please ask me anything you want.” He gave her a reassuring smile trying to meet her gaze again.

The golden lady’s eyes flickered up see him so close that the warmth of his body radiated onto her.

“The wedding—” He sighed. “The wedding was beautiful…in a sense, I suppose.” Taehyung spoke with bitterness touching his tongue, pursing his lips together. He wondered for a moment if it were too much to speak these things out. Were these walls thick enough the hold the dark thoughts in his head long enough? Was it worth it show a side of him to Angel that he despised? A side of him created as soon as Belle told him, holding a teary smile that she was going to marry a monster and bear his child for his own benefit.

It turns out that part of Taehyung didn’t care who saw or heard him. “Do you ever have that situation where—you despise someone so much—because they’ve hurt you or someone important to you?—a hatred that runs so deep, the mere thought of them—” He huffed out a breath to somehow to cool down the anger erupting inside him. “Makes you thinks things unimaginable.”

Angel’s chest rose and fell slightly as her eyes now grew glossy. In a rush of painful memory, she remembered those words rushing in her own mind at some point. “Yes.” She muttered immediately pressing her lips together. All the nights of hiding in a bathroom and covering her ears hoping that her ex-husband would just pass out drunk. The way she trained herself to zone out every time he climbed on top of her.

Eyes shining and vision blurring just a little but enough to see Taehyung’s welcoming features so she could feel at ease. “You end up stripping them down to being nothing but a human. Not someone powerful…or someone with status that you can’t touch…Just a human. Vulnerable…soft…if you just grabbed a knife and stuck it at the right place. They’re nothing but meat.”

Taehyung’s expression softened hearing such a composed woman speak out the unimaginable things in his mind already. “What if that powerful person is Jeon Jungkook?” It was not something he didn’t think about before. There were dark points in his time living in that place knowing the man was just sleeping soundly in the room with no one really watching over him.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head.

“But you said—”

“No, Taehyung—your sister is now a Jeon.” Angel raised a hand to ensure that the man listens to her every word. “If you sister is widowed in the Jeon family, it won’t bode well on her. She’ll be tied down to the family until her death. If Jungkook is doing something then there needs to be a divorce.”

“How do you know all that?” His brows furrowed.

“Seok—Mr. Kim told me a story that Jeon Boyoung was a widow…she had to marry someone arranged by the family a day later. It’s a terrible life, Taehyung, remarried widows are not given any kind of respect in the family. The new husbands are allowed to be unfaithful to them or abusive to them without any consequence. The only reason Boyoung is doing somewhat well is because she is a Jeon by birth. Belle isn’t.” Concern riddled her expression hoping to the high heavens Taehyung understood what she was saying. “Jungkook cannot be killed while they’re still married.”

Taehyung shifted in his position feeling a slap of clarity right across his face. “Seokjin—how does he know all these things?” He shook his head. “And how does Belle get a divorce? That family controls everything.”

“Not everything.” Angel whispered so low, she had to lean closer to him. “Belle needs someone to support her alibi. Someone just as powerful as the Jeons. It’s not just them that controls everything, there are other influential people in the city.”

“How am I supposed to find someone just as powerful?”

Sighing shakily, she glanced around the room before moving to stand on her feet. A quick smile tugged at her lips almost as if this whole conversation never happened. “Would you like a take a stroll with me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung nodded before trying to return her smile, standing up as his mind filled with nothing but confusion.

-

By the time they reached the mansion the envelope in Belles hand scrunched up as if it has been read a million times already. She tried smoothing it out a little when the car parked but it still look just about as messed up as her mind orientation. Crinkles mimicking a drought riddled land and light stains of foundation remnants from her fingers.

Yoongi climbed out of the car first as the two guards from the front walked a bit closer. Standing on her side now, he waited for her to take a break to breathe before opening the door and watching her step out. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be waiting just outside the room.” He muttered as they moved to enter the mansion.

Guards as usual welcomed them with a bow and Belle had the urge increase her pace towards the second living room, her heart racing at the same speed. Fingers shook, body burned from her toes to her head and her legs moved slower than normal at the lack of concentration. She hated wearing a lavender cardigan today because the colour looked far bright for her actual mood.

Looking over her shoulder, Belle saw Yoongi standing with his hands in his jacket, giving her a reassuring nod.

She couldn’t hide it for too long. At some point it was going to get difficult to avoid everyone on the truth. Especially Jungkook.

For a moment Belle paused again hearing muffled voices on the other side of the office door. A usual sound now for the past few weeks. Padding closer to the wooden barrier, only one voice stood out like a teacher scolding an empty classroom. It would be easy to just turn away with the excuse that Jungkook was too busy but no one should be too busy for this. At least in her mind.

She stood close to the door that someone might mistake her for kissing it. Closing her eyes, Belle knocked twice before opening the door just enough to walk inside.

“Move the surviving associates to the other dens, fucking fight back next time!” Jungkook growled slamming the phone down so hard that she heard a crack. He stepped away from the phone, rubbing his face with a frustrated sigh padding through him.

Belle stood inside the room, immediately regretting that she entered but it had be done now or the courage would never arrive again. “Jungkook?”

“Not now.” He muttered without even giving her sideways glance.

Anxiety faded a little; the same heat but it ignited a different kind of fire in her belly. “Yes now.” She spoke firmly, lips pursed together.

Slightly reddened eyes met Belle’s gaze as he padded over to the table once again more, leaning on the edge, dark curls falling over his face. Jungkook tried to control his heavy breathing but it only seemed to get worse when he started thinking about it. “Belle, I’m not in the mood for any more drama today, alright?” He shook his head slowly, hands nearly trembling with fury.

Belle sighed to calm the fire down somehow as the envelope grew so heavy in her hand, she worried her grip would relinquish without her knowing. “This is important.” She took a step forward but quickly jumped back.

Jungkook knocked the phone off the table with the back of his hand, harsh thuds and broken rings echoing throughout the room. “Important?! What could be so fucking important that you can’t give me a moment of peace?” He stomped across from the table almost leaving steam behind him.

“My entire goddamn empire is breaking apart into pieces!” He threw his hand towards the fallen phone as his feet nearly stepped over hers. “I’m sure whatever you have to say can fucking wait.” Hot breath brushed against her already warmed up face.

“It can’t fucking wait!” Belle shouted back despite her mouth feeling incredibly dry, the heat around them collecting and making her a little dizzy. “This—” She jabbed the envelope at his chest not really caring whether it caught or not as it dropped to the ground. “This is what your screwed up family wanted, you got it.”

Eyes burned with tears once again, stomach clenching and her head spinning abnormally. “You won.” She smiled sadly. “Congratulations.” She seethed turning on her heel and stomping out of the door, slamming it so hard that it echoed through the whole mansion.

Stomach twisted in such a way that it almost meant to give Belle as much pain as humanly possible making her wince while tears forcibly streamed down her face. She rushed across the second living room completely ignoring Yoongi who tried to call out her name.

It didn’t take a genius to see that breaking the news had been worse than he expected. The family wanted the damn baby so why did he have to see Belle running out with one of the most heartbreaking expression he had ever seen on the girl? And Yoongi had seen a lot, much to his own discontent.

Yoongi tried to open his mouth to say something but Belle already flashed past leaving the gust of wind behind with her speed. If he knew what happened then it would be easier, right now nothing but confusion and a little sadness gripped his face.

“Get my car ready, please.” Belle announced to one of the guards who immediately bowed and rushed off to do her bidding.

The older male lurked at the edge of the second living room and watched a young looked guards who he remembered was called Jongho. One of Belle’s regular guards who usually kept an eye on her the most. The amount of influence this woman had in the entire Jeon mansion honestly could frighten even Yoongi. Every guards seemed to lose their composure and give her a sad look as if wanting to comfort her in her time of need.

Jongho leaned in a little to hear her whisper, possibly about her location because it had to be known to someone just in case. The young guard nodded and opened the double doors for her.

Yoongi would have rushed to the girl and provided some comfort but if she purposely ignored him then it was clear that her intention was to be alone. All he knew was no woman should ever come out looking that fucking upset after trying to tell their husband she was having their baby.

Jungkook tightened his jaw as the sound of the door still rung in the air. Roughly raking his fingers through his hair as if he was pulling it from the roots, gaze flickered down to the discarded envelope. Crouching down Jungkook picked up the slightly crumpled paper and ripped it open letting the little pieces drip carelessly to the ground.

His heart began to race when he saw a doctor’s pregnancy test report details. Forehead knitted reading through the report until the word ‘results’ caught his eye.

Then in big capital letters, his mistake came crashing down harder than a bag of bricks to his head.

POSITIVE.

All the anger faded away quicker than Jungkook prepared for as it replaced with a painful clench in his chest and the whole world momentarily crashing down on him.

The ritual worked.

‘You won’ she said.

His family won.

The walls of his mind closed in on itself tightly not knowing whether to spread elation or guilt through his body. Instead a deadly mixture of both feelings pumped in his veins making his fingers tremble for a whole different reason.

Jungkooks’ biggest den had been infiltrated by the police, once again with the mayor’s direct orders and the speculations of his hand being involved grew stronger by the day. He knew with all his heart how important it was to keep his business and empire safe but now…

What was more important now?

Something wet dropped onto the paper soaking through the ‘I’ and ‘E’ of the word ‘positive’ bringing him back to reality. Jungkook sniffled quickly, wiping away the tiny trickles of tears escaping down his cheek before opening the door.

“Where is she?” The question posed and everyone’s eyes were on him now, even the maids paused in their tracks to look at him. Could they notice the tears gathering in his eyes? Once again Jungkook had to succumb to feeling like a lost boy who didn’t know what to do without the guidance of his family.

Hair over his face managed to cover most of his distress but Yoongi only had to glance down at the paper clasped tightly in the younger male’s hand to know why.

“She drove out.” He nodded towards the entrance.

Jungkook did not utter another word before practically rushing out of the second living room but immediately paused when Yoongi stood in front of him.

He raised his hands in defense seeing Jungkooks’ glossy eyes burning into him at the disrespectful action. “Sorry, sir but—I believe your wife wanted to be alone right now.” Yoongi attempted to explain in the most careful way possible. Though his mind conjured much more colorful words. The last person she wants to see is the dickhead who impregnated her against her will.

Anger burned to his very core seeing Yoongi speak to him so casually. “Do you even know where she went? What if she gets into danger?!” Jungkook growled making the maids jump back and frantically continue on with their work.

Fortunately Yoongi had been significantly numbed to acts of intimidation. “I know where she is and she’ll be as just as safe there as she would be here. You don’t have to worry.” He shook his head, trying to keep his voice calm and collected.

“But—” Jungkook held up the paper pathetically, sighing shakily.

“I know…I went to the clinic with her.” Yoongi nodded. “She’s okay. She just needs a little space, it’s completely normal.”

It’s not normal and she wasn’t okay but he really just needed to live right now.

Jungkook had the strongest want to keep fighting and just push past to find her but where would that even lead? Ever since that night, Belle couldn’t even look at him properly. Honestly he didn’t have the courage to look at himself either. All his life his parents taught him that the family customs existed for good reasons. Reasons which kept them alive for so long. As a naïve child he found himself never finding anything wrong with these customs.

Until he had to go through them. Along with dragging the woman he grew to care about into it.

Turning away from Yoongi, Jungkook dragged his feet towards one of the couches in the second living room and slumped down.

“I made her think it wasn’t important.” He stared at the paper, reading the same word over and over again. “My father would always tell me how happy he was when my mother told him she was pregnant.” Jungkook scoffed, his vision blurring a little. “He picked her up and twirled her around right in front of all his men not giving a care if he would look weak.”

Yoongi pursed his lips together leaning on the wall behind him.

“Family makes you stronger, he said. Nothing stronger than family.” Jungkook pressed down the inner corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb, shutting his eyes tightly to stop any more tears from flowing.

“Anyone can pretend to be happy at first.” Yoongi spoke plainly. “It’s what you do for the next twenty years that actually counts.”

Jungkook licked his trembling lips not completely convinced but it wouldn’t be the first time he succumbed to the alluring beauty of a lie.

-

Clouds spread out to welcome the heavenly blue and golden warmth as Belle padded across the entrance gardens of the Sangria House. For a second, a few people stopped with their usual activities to stare at her, twist of recognition on their faces. With a sigh Belle hugged her cardigan again being the only comfort for today despite the colour being so harsh on her tired eyes.

Through the entrance doors, she looked around the area like a slightly lost puppy. The lobby used most of the natural light making it look like a beach hut of some sort as the warmth was now replaced with fresh cool air.

Belle hoped with all her soul that the person she wanted could just appear right here out of luck. Unfortunately luck was not a trustworthy friend in recent months.

More eyes now fixated on her presence and a figure even padded towards her; tall with lines adorning his face, tattoo peeking out from his shirt and a smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you open?” The man’s gaze trailed up and down her body. Waft of cologne and tobacco swirling around his aura as he moved closer.

“Excuse me?” Brows furrowed but before she could channel any more of her frustration, a red coat rushed over to her side.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeon…” The red coat bowed in a meek tone even though it was not her fault in the slightest.

The rude customers’ smile immediately disappeared into a look of despair and fear, widened eyes staring back at Belle. “Mrs. Jeon…” He bowed so low that he almost vanished from her line of vision. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“Would you have continued on with your shenanigans if I wasn’t Mrs. Jeon?” She glared down at the male.

He gripped at the fabric of his trousers tightly, still bent down as if ready to be flogged.

“I assumed too quickly, Mrs. Jeon. Please accept my deepest apologies.” His voice shook slightly knowing the smallest word to Jungkook about this behavior would end in a whole lot of limbs being lost.

Belle sighed lightly, averting her gaze. “It’s alright. Just make sure I don’t find you doing it again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeon…” The man smiled giving repeated bows as he backed away. “You are most kind.”

The man now led away by the red coat, Belle was being hosted by one of the white coats who asked what she needed today.

The previous aching in her stomach seemed to get worse despite getting the fresh air while even the mildest rush of heat from the day increased tenfold when it reached her skin.

Oh god…not now.

“Park Jimin, please. If he’s free.” Belle spoke, her strength wavering a little as every part tried to suppress the pain in her chest pushing something up to her throat.

Giving her another bow the white coat led her off to one of the private rooms.

Once again her feet seemed drag across the floor like the world moved too much to catch up properly. More swirling around in Belle’s head, the bitterness in her throat erupted with cruel strength, forcing her to grip on the edge of the door to steady herself.

“Mrs. Jeon? Are you okay?” The white coats’ hands hovered over her to prevent any dreaded fall but distant enough for manners.

Belle gave her a shaky smile through she still held onto the edge as if her life depended on it. “Just a little queasy…” Stomach clenched again and her mind grew stubborn, only thinking about something heavy being pushed up her throat almost choking her. “Is there a—” She tried to swallow it down but it seemed to get more violent. “Is there a bathroom anywhere?”

Her eyes widened before quickly nodding and gesturing towards the private room. “This has a bathroom, madam.” The younger girl tried to gently lead her inside where a small door stood closed.

Passing the little empty table, Belle felt saliva flooding inside her mouth until drool almost leaked out of the sides forcing her to burst open through the door without waiting for the girl and throwing herself in front of the toilet.

Knees ached against the cold wooden floor, chest lurching painfully as the contents of her stomach spewed out in the form of a burning liquid. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes struggling to breathe, a small part hoping it was over before her stomach lurched again.

She vaguely heard footsteps coming closer before her hair was being brushed back gently and her back soothingly rubbed.

Belle coughed feeling a harsh burn in her chest but finally being able to breathe easy as the nausea faded albeit taking its sweet time. As soon as she turned to the side, a hand towel gestured her way. She accepted it with a rush of gratitude as she wiped off her mouth still letting out small painful coughs.

Glossy reddened eyes flickered over to the side, seeing a familiar pair of sultry eyes and pouty lips look back at her with an expression of concern.

“You okay?” Jimin whispered, hand sliding from her back to her shoulder, squeezing it a little as a form of comfort.

Belle sighed before pursing her lips, more tears threatening to flood out if she continued to speak. So the woman merely shook her head, chin trembling and heart crumbling into pieces. The action alone held more truth than anything she ever forced herself to say.

His expression softened not needing any type of explanation as to why Belle looked so upset. Jimin saw the whole thing with his own eyes. No one could ever come out of that and still feel the same. All he could truly do was pull her close and wrap her into a warm embrace, allowing the woman to sob into his shoulder.

Fingers curled into the lavender fabric, sobs now pushing out of her as Jungkooks words replayed over and over again. All the smiles, laughter and kisses. All of them were fake. Nothing was real. Now more than ever Belle had been forced awake from the fantasy that began to thicken far too much. It stripped down to the harsh reality. When her whole future was taken away in one night.

-

They embraced until their legs fell asleep before eventually moving over to the main private room. Jimin’s hands still on Belle’s arms carefully guiding her to a seat.

Once the new air brushed in, the nausea slowly fizzled out allowing her to breathe in without feeling like a nasty potion being conjured in her throat.

As the pair sat across from one another a moment of silence lingered. Whether to consolidate the memory of their embrace or just time to adjust to their usual setting, both of them were not quite sure.

Then she spoke in a raspy and exhausted voice.

“I always thought I’d feel like the happiest woman in the world when I got pregnant.” Belle said with her head hanging, tears still freshly formed and a heart that could not seem to stop clenching into itself like it hid from something. “Every time I saw a baby smile…I’d always think…I’m going to have that one day with the man I love and he loved me.” She shook her head before scoffing at the naivety. All those stupid dreams of a happy life filled with love, loyalty and trust. Everything replaced by deceit and manipulation.

Jimins’ could feel the burning behind his eyes watching the broken shell of a strong woman speak out thoughts of a time when she was whole. Fingers twitched wanting to embrace her again but the moment for that passed. Now they both had to come to terms with speaking the truth. “You–you can still be happy…” He winced a little at his own words. “Arranged marriages can—” He swallowed hard. “—they can work out through time.”

Not this kind of arranged marriage. At least some arranged marriage gave the couple a chance to say agree or disagree on things. Here Jungkook merely took a fake girlfriend, then he and his family proceeded to do whatever they needed to her for their own benefit. All she had to was sit there, smile and take it.

Belle smiled at the lavender figure as if to reassure him that she appreciated his help. “It’s—complicated…” She chuckled, a small droplet trickling down her cheek. Averting her gaze, she wiped away her tears quickly with a light sniffle. “I supposed I shouldn’t complain. You probably have it worse.”

Jimin hummed in disagreement, shaking his head. “I feel safer here than anywhere else.” His brows furrowed lightly. “Seokjin—” He stammered a little accidentally calling Mr. Kim by his name. “I know he has a reputation but he’s a good man. Really. Never gets angry unless it’s at customers which is rare. He’s always keeps us safe.”

Eyes flickered to meet his, blinking slowly as her curiosity now peeked more than she ever felt it before. “But…what he did to Taehyung…” Belle gestured towards the table before them which had a half-drunken glass of water near her.

He leaned in and spoke in a whisper. “To protect Angel.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Taehyung didn’t do anything. Why would he get punished like that?” Belle kept her voice soft but loud enough for them to hear. As her words became consolidated in the air and in their memories, something struck in her mind that seemed to muffle everything out for a moment.

Jimin paused thinking over what to say before slowly taking a breath. “His… methods are little—”

Calculated. Planned.

For the first time in too fucking long, Belle could see past this thick veil of confusion. It wasn’t all just cruel fate. Her heart raced so hard it tried to crash through her ribcages and even her toes began shaking from the rush of adrenaline pumping in each vein.

Taehyung wasn’t drugged so Angel could be safe.

Tears dried up and a new rush of determination touched her broken form. Belle leaned in, gaze fixated on his, speaking in a firm tone. “Is there any way I could organize a meeting with Seokjin?”

-

Taehyung tried his best to suppress the intense heat on his cheeks feelings Angels’ soft hands interlock with his slightly rough ones. Through one of the backdoors, they were welcomed by the bright light of the beautiful day and the beautiful blossoms in all their glory.

Pink, red and purple petals falling to the green ground or continuing to fly through the wind to their own personal freedom. Subtle scent of jasmine and lemons touching his nostrils despite the actual plants being situated all the way at the end of the large backyard. A few angels both red and lavender wore more comfortable clothing rather than extravagant while entertaining their customers. Some of them danced in front of the picnic set up or simply sat with them engaged in light-hearted conversation.

He almost forgot the purpose of their visit to this slab of imaginary heaven as Angel led him past the laughing the patrons and towards the jasmines hanging on the fence just facing all the lemon trees. Taehyung wondered if this was what they used for their tea recipes. The small wonder momentarily halted when he felt himself being pulled under one of the lemon trees.

Subtle scent now became potent in his nose, the heavenly jasmine and citrus mixing with Angel’s sweet vanilla perfume. It would have been overwhelming if Taehyung had not lost his focus when meeting the golden ladys gaze.

Her grip on his hand loosened a little but a few fingers still struggled to depart from one another. “I wanted to say this to you in more privacy. The rooms are always watched.” Angel whispered with a light smile. “I’m so sorry…I was the one who put the drug in your tea.” She hung her head. “I didn’t know it was going to make you sick.” The usual composed walls around her once again opted to fade away when standing so close to Taehyung. “I—I thought it was going to make you feel more relaxed and calm—I didn’t…” Angel paused in her shaky words when she felt his hand cupping her cheek gently.

Taehyung watched her beautiful eyes getting glossier every second she continued speaking, each second his heart sunk deeper into a pit. “Did Seokjin ask you to do it?”

Angel pursed her lips, blinking frantically to get rid of the tears forming. “Yes.”

He scoffed averting his gaze, rush of heated fury erupting in his belly. “They’re all the same.”

“No…” She shook her head immediately holding onto his arms. “Taehyung, look at me.” The leaves rustled in a gust of wind causing her hair to flow over her lips a little. “Seokjin isn’t the man you think he is.”

Taehyungs’ brows furrowed searching her expression to find some sense of delusion or lack of surety but the woman looked collected as normal. “What kind of a man is he then? Who drugs their own customers for intimidation?” He seethed more so directed at Seokjin than the beauty before him.

Angel glanced quickly to the side ensuring that nobody was close to listen in. “The helping kind. Taehyung, if he was anything like Jungkook you’d be dead by now or he’d never allow you to see me ever again.” Her own heart jumped at the very mention of the idea. “Seokjin would never do what Jungkook did to your sister.”

He tightened his jaw as his stomach twisted and leaped causing an ache in abdomen. “What?”

“I know about the deal.” She whispered. “Seokjin told me as soon as you walked into Sangria House.” Angels’ bottom lip trembled moving one of her hands to caress his cheeks.

“How much did he tell you?” Taehyung swallowed down hard.

“Everything. He always does.” She smiled sadly, brushing her thumb over his temple. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Her smile quickly disappeared however as she halted her actions. “But your sister isn’t.”

“What can I do?” He muttered leaning in closer with the guise of being secretive but really he desperately wanted to close the distance between them. “Please tell me.”

-

Door opened gently by Jimin who quickly bowed as soon as they walked inside. A rush of cold air flowed through even Belles’ thick cardigan gushing from the air conditioner swirling with the soft linen waft of cologne. Seokjin sat at his table in the middle of writing something out on a paper before he peered through his glasses to see the two figures walk into the room. A calm expression across his handsome features as per usual despite clearly being disturbed in his work.

Belle padded further inside, fingers intertwined with each other and her posture at its perfect stature determined to look her most composed.

Seokjin quickly stretched a smile across his plump lips before standing up as a sign of respect. “Madame Belle, it’s always nice to see you.” He gave her a nod. Eyes flickered over to Jimin who stood politely in the corner looking a bit confused as to what he was supposed to do. “Thank you for escorting our prestige guest here, Jimin.”

It was a kind but clear sign that the lavender adorned male could leave the vicinity for their private conversation.

“Jimin can stay.” Belle glanced towards him before facing Seokjin. “I trust him if you do.”

Silence plunged into the room as both males still attempted to figure out just what Belle was trying to do or say. However Seokjin had to suppress a smirk at a few theories conjuring in his mind. He gestured for the two of them to sit at the vacant chairs.

Jimins’ confused gaze flickered from Belle to Seokjin before quickly closing the door of the office and following the woman to the chairs, sitting down as soon as she did.

Belle brushed away any creases on her dresses as she situated herself on the chair, the chill creating goosebumps on her bare skin.

Seokjin pushed away his blazer careful not to crease the ends as he sat down. Sighing happily, he smiled at the both of them leaning back on the chair. “What can I do for you, Madame Belle? Has Jimin been doing something inappropriate?”

The lavender males’ heart jumped frantically looking over at Belle with wide eyes.

“No. In fact the reason I wanted him here is to thank him…for helping me answer a question I could never wrap my head around.”

“And what question is that?”

Belle searched his expression, heavily impressed with how he could keep such a composure. Deep down she almost worried that her theory might sound silly at the end. “Why would a man with such a heavy security system in his facility—and security guards the size of buildings feel the need to drug a potential threat?” She squinted lightly.

Silence plunged into the room like a welcomed disease as Seokjins’ smile appeared back again even wider. “Well…I have less than glorious methods sometimes but it’s all to protect my beloved angels. Especially my wife.” He explained in the most rehearsed way possible even though they both knew it was merely a dialogue recited many times for people more gullible.

“Angel was never in danger.” The corner of her lip twitched as her goosebumps dialed down through the warmth radiating inside. “Your angels are always safe. At all times. The second something goes wrong, the guards are there in seconds.” Twitching turned into a steady smirk that for the first time Belle did not have to think about or force. “You knew that.”

“Knew what?” Seokjin asked, much to Jimins’ confusion, the man looked utterly pleased with the exchange.

“You knew Taehyung would never do anything to hurt Angel.” Belle shook her head. “You just needed an incident…the perfect incident to get anyone who could carry a simply vial to the Jeon mansion.” She chuckled softly at her own gullibility despite her cried out eyes burning in the harsh cold wind. “The most foolproof infiltration. Make Jungkook’s beloved girlfriend think her brother was terribly sick and sneak a police officer in to play the medic just at the right time.”

The older male grinned brighter than Belle or Jimin had ever seen it. Clearly this was not a dark secret he meant to keep from the woman otherwise the conversation would have turned into something a lot more different. “I must say, Ms. Belle…” Seokjin leaned in and rested his elbows on the table. “I’ve been at this for years now—possibly longer than Jungkook has been leader. Never once did anyone decide to question me or my involvement in traitorous behaviors. Why do you think that is?”

“Because you’re a powerful man.” Belles’ smile faded away for a moment. “They won’t question anything you do even if they know it’s wrong—because you can make them lose everything with a flick of your fingers.” She pursed her lips together. “I’ve already been one of them once…I’m not doing it again.”

Seokjin nodded slowly, noticing how her gaze mended from shattered shards to the woman who was ready to pick all the pieces up and mend herself together. “And who are you now? Mrs. Jeon Jungkook? Kim Taehyungs’ sister? Or Madame Belle?”

It always came down to this, didn’t it?

In a series of mind breaking and heart clenching events, one rushes out of the woods to find themselves wondering if they were the same person who entered in the first place. Was she still the same little sister who desperately wanted her brother to get better? Was she the perfect wife for Jungkook? Or was she the designer striving to be as successful as Saito herself?

Maybe Belle was all of them combined. Or none of them and this was all a sick dream playing out in her head but it couldn’t be.

The path in front of Belle now split into two; a fork awaiting her to step into to lead into a future that might make more sense than this one.

This felt too real. It didn’t feel good or satisfying nor did it make her feel relaxed.

This was real. It was time for her to wake up and draw the curtains on this fantasy.

-

Sun began moving over to the other side when Belle drove back to the mansion after feeling a significant brush of relief in her body.

For the first time she walked through the door with an air of both confidence and a little fear when her hand caressed her belly. You’re not going to be born in this mess. I promise. Padding across Belle smiled at Jongho who waited politely just at the entrance before returning a smile of his own with a nod.

Inside the main living room, Yoongi paced around biting down his fingernails mostly trying to stop himself from drinking something at the bar. Not that it would help since it was full with fucking apple juice. He wished he bought a coffee earlier but in his past experiences a boost of caffeine almost never helped with stress.

Footsteps made him pause in his tracks. A rush of calm pulsed through him when Yoongi saw Belle walking towards the male. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He whispered padding closer. “You okay?”

The woman stayed silent, completely dried out of tears and Jimin comforted more than enough. Now the only thing left was that feeling of exposure when the truth finally revealed itself. She felt naked in front of it but free from the lies. “I just went out to the Sangria House, I was safe.” Okay was a difficult word to associate with her right now.

Yoongi nodded fingers curling into themselves before he repeated the same action at the payphone.

“Taehyungs’ there too, I’m told.” Belle didn’t get a chance to catch him but she now knew that Seokjin had no intentions of hurting him in the first place. “Where’s Jungkook?”

He gulped, averting his gaze and gesturing towards the stairs. “He—read the report. Hasn’t come out of the room yet.”

Stomach started doing leaps again, fear rising that she might have another episode with her head over the toilet. Belle hummed mulling over her thoughts before leaning into his cheek and pressing a chaste kiss. One couldn’t even truly call it a kiss, just a light press of her soft lips against his burning skin. When she pulled away the woman smiled proceeding to cause more heat to bundle up inside him. “Thank you.”

Yoongi merely breathed out a sigh unable to speak as Belle gently walked past him up the stairs.

He felt the guards’ eyes on him, some of them judging his reddened cheeks while others smirking. Quickly clearing his throat Yoongi bolted towards the guestroom.

In the same gentleness Belle did earlier, opening the door with care peeking inside briefly before completely entering and closing the door behind her. Turning around Jungkook sat at the edge of the bed just as she was the first time they came into the mansion. His head hung, dark locks forming a slight curtain while his hands rubbed his face, light sniffling riddling the air mixing in with the strong stench of tobacco.

Gaze flickered over to the study table to see a few used cigarettes including one still exuding smoke almost halfway used.

The woman winced accidentally taking a big waft when she tried to breathe in causing her to cough and break the silence.

Jungkooks’ head shot up hearing the sound, quickly jumping off the bed and rushing to the study table. Picking the cigarette he roughly pressed it against the ashtray waving the smoke away from the woman. “I’m sorry.” He muttered in a slightly shaky voice.

“For what?” Belle padded towards the bed to her side, placing her bag on the nightstand before carefully sitting at the edge. Her legs melted into the soft surface finally being able to rest physically at least. Lazily she swung them over fully onto the bed after taking her shoes off, shifting back she rested her back on the headboard.

Jungkook leaned on the edges of the table before hanging his head again. “For everything.”

The vague answer was always the easiest.

Belle reached out for the throw blanket and placed it over the bare parts of her legs providing extra comfort and warmth. “You were stressed, I should’ve waited.” She replied simply.

“You shouldn’t have to wait to tell me something like that.” He shook his head finally turning around to face her. “Six weeks.”

“Six weeks.” Belle gulped, fingers beginning to tremble a little. “I had to make sure.”

Jungkook blinked slowly before nodding as he padded over to his side of the room, pushing off his shoes. Sitting against the headboard the male let out a small sigh as he unbuttoned one more button on his white shirt to feel less constricted. “How big would it be right now?”

“Probably the size of a peanut.” She looked down at her belly and instinctively caressed it.

He immediately flickered down at her belly, still unable truly to understand how a human was going to grow in there. Despite the things Jungkook had seen in his life this was going to be the most surreal of them all. “You’re important to me, Belle.” He reached out and placed a hand over her belly. “Both of you.”

Belle moved her fingers over his and caressing the back of his hand slowly.

“Everything’s a mess right now I can’t—” Jungkook sighed leaning on the side of his head against the headboard. “I can’t think straight.” With his biggest den taken down, one after the other like a cruel domino effect his empire seemed lose each of its pillars. At the same time he had to try and pick all the pieces while protecting the standing pillars making his mind curl up into itself. As if a survival mode to get away from extreme stress.

She shook her head, patting his hand. “It’s okay.” Belle whispered knowing the word lost all its meaning a long time ago.

Jungkook tilted his head to search her expression watching the dull sunlight shine onto her locks making them look golden. Like a sailor being allured to the siren, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on her cheek and another on just on the corner of her lips. “I want you to be happy.” Nose nudged against her cheek.

Belle closed her eyes momentarily feeling his hot kisses against her skin, heavy remnants of tobacco on his breath forcing her to breathe through her mouth for a while.

Pulling away, the male shifted to lay his head on Belle’s lap facing her belly and blanket covered thighs used as a pillow. Finger traced at the little creases on the dress from her sited position as Jungkook relished in the scent of her perfume hopefully masking his cigarette riddled one. “It doesn’t matter what happens to the empire.” He whispered, gaze fixated on her belly. “So long you’re both happy…I’d give everything else up.”

Her heart swelled for a brief moment as Belle allowed herself to succumb back into the comforts of his words. His beautiful lies. “Do you promise?” Shaky hand moved to brush through Jungkook’s hair.

His gaze flickered up to meet her glossy one, giving her a soft smile. “I promise.” Jungkook looked back down at her belly caressing her skin through the clothing. “I’ll always keep you happy.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip to suppress the sob being forced out of her, closing her eyes shut tightly to stop the tears but they merely created constellations on the womans’ lashes. Letting out a small sigh she relaxed into his touch, struggling to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Quickly for one of the final times Belle forced herself to stretch a smile across her lips.

I’m not happy.

-

Cheeks finally cooled down as Yoongi leaned back on the chair of his temporary bedroom, dark as the thick curtains perfectly shielded him from the sunlight. Fingers scratched at the fabric of the armrest not thinking of anything in particular but merely drowning in an empty zone away from reality just for a few moments. He grew accustomed to this feeling after seeing one too many dead bodies of children.

Two knocks rapped on the door before it opened to reveal the senior maid, Nana. “Hello, Master Osamu.” She smiled closing the door behind her and walking further inside to do her usual cleaning starting with fixing his bed up.

Yoongi made it himself but unfortunately not the way that it was usually designed to fit the aesthetic of the house since most of the fancy cushions were on the floor. “Sorry I’ll—” He tried to get up from the chair.

“No no it’s okay. This is my job after all.” Nana chuckled picked up all the cushions and threw them onto the bed to make it easier for her to organize them.

The younger male smiled and relaxed back onto the seat with a light sigh.

“You did well. Helping Mistress Belle like that.” She muttered placing all the bigger pillows close to the headboard then the medium ones just afterwards.

Yoongi chuckled nervously observing her actions and how effortlessly she put everything in place when it took his entire soul to neaten the blanket. “What’re friends for?” He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

Nana smirked, fluffing the larger pillows. “Just friends?”

Eyes widened at the sudden change of tone from the older female making him stammer a little as he spoke.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, boy.” She continued speaking casually while wiping off the collected on the side lamp. “This isn’t just an undercover mission anymore and you know it.”

Yoongi could have sworn his core shivered hearing those words so easily fall from Nana’s lips without a damn care in the world. Glancing over at the door of his bedroom, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “How did you—”

“I raised Jungkook, you think I wouldn’t be able to see a rat under my nose?” Nana continued to keep her gaze anywhere but the younger male pretending like they were either having a regular conversation or none at all since Yoongis’ tongue seemed to lose its purpose. “Don’t get so scared. I don’t rat police officers out, you’re doing the right thing.” She neatened up Yoongis’ things on the nightstand. “Every king needs to be taught that they can crumble just as easily as a servant.”

Once everything stood in order, Nana stood in front of the male with a bright smile. “And every servant knows when to help the right people. I clean Jungkooks’ office too.” She gave him a bow and turned on her heel to leave the room.

Needless to say Yoongi was heavily reminded of how Namjoon and him were not the only ones who wanted an end to Jungkooks’ reign.

<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7

There’s one scene in there I had in mind ever since I started writing that small fic and HELL YEH I’m gonna draw something about it at some point because fsdfbbsfbsdhbfgsbgdfguidfg it just looks aesthetically pleasing in my head.

ENJOY.

(also reminder that I base Donnie’s place on this video. The only part I change is the “kids” area - which is horrendous imo :’D - and I make into a lab/small training area)

There was something different in the air when Vee got to work the next day. This feeling that wanted to explode out in the open, an incessant rush in her veins that made her heart beat faster whenever she’d spot the terrapin. Their tasks for the day didn’t give them much time to talk, but everytime they’d be exchanging words or documents, there was this longing sensation that slowed down time to a honey sweet pace. Fingers brushing against the other, light touches here and there. Professionalism remained king in the work place and they intended to keep it as such.

By the end of the day, she knew she couldn’t leave without at least wishing a good and proper evening to the mutant. She walked to his office, remaining at the doorframe as she watched him place various papers into a briefcase. Vee gently knocked, signaling her presence, to which Donnie responded by looking up to her and adorning the cutest smile.

“At least this time I didn’t scare you,” started the woman.

“As I said yesterday, I had a lot on my mind. At least today my thoughts are a little clearer, so I can’t be easily scared. Come in!” he added, gesturing for Vee to step inside.

“I won’t take much of your time, I just wanted to check up on you before leaving.”

The turtle placed some final documents in the case, snapping it closed afteward.

“I was actually about to leave as well. Want me to drive you back home?”

“Do you have something planned?” asked Vee, raising a brow with a small smile.

Donnie faked pondering, lightly drumming his fingers on his desk: “Hmm, I suspect I might be spending the evening with a pretty lady, if she agrees.”

“Lucky her, I’m sure she’ll say yes,” winked the woman.

Already on the move, Donnie offered a hand for Vee to hold, the duo then walking together in order to reach the indoor garage at some levels below.

“Is it okay, though? Did you have something to do after work?” asked the terrapin.

“I was planning on having a drink back home, but if I can share one with you, that’d be even better.”

“How about you have that drink at my place? I have a couple of bottles that might interest you.”

“You know that if I am to step foot into your place, I will be incredibly jealous, right? ... I’m sure you must be living in a luxurious place or something.”

“A little castle in the sky, but it sure is missing a beautiful presence inside of it.”

Vee blushed, definitely enjoying the compliments that were left here and there.

Once in the vehicle, the duo made their way to the streets, the conversation light and simply glad the week was finally over. Vee did notice that their path led them to streets that featured tall buildings in the Tribeca district. For a moment she felt out of place, definitely not the target audience for such a high-end environment, but her curiosity kept her on edge only to be able to get a view of Donnie’s place. They were first facing a tower with a blank stone facade, extending so high up in the sky. The entrance’s interior was as elegant and refined as the exterior, the place giving out this feeling of prestige from every corners. As they stepped inside an elevator, Vee’s eyes widened a little as she saw Donnie press the button for the 78th floor. Castle in the sky, indeed.

As they arrived at the desired level, they were soon facing the entry door, the turtle smirking to the woman as he held the doorknob and waited.

“Ready?”

“Open the damn thing already so I can cry a little inside,” answered Vee amusedly.

The door fully opened, she couldn’t retain her gasp as her eyes started to devour the interior of what was rightfully a penthouse.

The very first few rooms she saw around left her speechless, the single thought of ‘this is bigger than my whole damn apartment’ flooding her mind. She knew there would be more, her curiosity would lead her to visit every rooms anyway. She did notice french doors leading to an outdoor balcony, her instinct pushing her to get out and take in the view.

Stopping by the the rails, she could feel the refreshing gusts of wind go through her hair, accentuating the euphoria of being so high over the city.

“So, what do you think so far?”

She turned around to face Donnie, the terrapin leaning against the open doors’ frame, always this smile on his face - glad to see her reaction. Vee tried to play it cool, shrugging.

“Heh, I’ve seen better,” she joked.

“Ah damn, and I wanted to impress,” tsked the terrapin in a similar tone.

Vee couldn’t retain her smile any longer, happily trotting back inside.

“You still have your chances. Show me the rest!”

The lower level was also home to a small office and a formal living room, but the next area was what retained the woman’s attention the most.

The kitchen was a thing of beauty, Vee unable to resist the urge to feel the marbled island and counters, in awe of the space.

“Damn, I WISH I had such a kitchen. I'd be cooking all the time!”

“You fancy yourself as a chef?” questionned Donnie.

“I do like to experiment from times to times,” she winked back.

She clapsed her hands together, bringing another subject on a rather similar topic:

“SO! What should we eat? I could even prepare something if you want.”

The turtle waved that offer away.

“Nonsense, you're my guest, you shouldn't be doing anything of that sort. … I uh-” He opened some cupboards, then the fridge and its freezer. “Wow, I have almost nothing! Except one frozen pizza for dire situations,” he added, waving a box out in the open with an unpleased expression.

Vee was instantly on board: “You know what? Fuck yeah. It's Friday night, we deserve that.”

“Now that's a line of thought I can get behind.”

As Donnie was starting to preheat the oven, Vee got closer, some questions raising in her mind:

“Although, I'm kinda susprised you don't have much variety, judging by the size of this place.”

“Not gonna lie, I need to go grocery shopping,” shrugged the mutant. “Also that tends to happen at certain times of the month. Mikey has us go through our stock, fresh and canned, in order to donate to food banks and soup kitchens.”

“That's amazing and kind!” Vee was pleasantly surprised.

“He does have this city at heart, and he loves to give back to the people,” continued Donnie. “We all love the idea. Since we can afford pretty much anything we want, it's only fair that we help those in needs. … Heck, this city has done a lot for us in the past and we had to rely on what others were throwing away for us to survive. Now it's time to pay back.”

“I find that to be very admirable,” commented the woman gently. “… Not a lot of people would do the same.”

“Indeed. It’s not because we’re mutants that it means we’re savages. We do have some heart under our shells,” he playfully added.

The oven ready, the food was placed to cook and the tour then continued. As Vee was heading to the staircase in order to reach the upper level, Donnie stopped her, pressing a button nearby and opening a encased door in the wall to reveal a small elevator.

“Show off!” laughed Vee

“What?! It can be helpful!” he quipped back with a smile.

The second floor offered two sections, one part leading to the bedroom, but the other leading to entertainement and other things. They first got to the media room, the place cozy for a nice and quiet evening.

But Vee’s eyes brought her to the glass doors that led to a juliet balcony, not wasting any time to open them and take another good look at the city.

She sighed dreamily, barely hearing the faint clinking of glasses and a bottle opening back inside.

“You like the view, don’t you?” started Donnie as he next got near, offering her a glass of red wine.

“It looks and feels like a dream. Didn’t know such a place could be found in this city.”

As she took it, the terrapin next sled his free hand and forearm gently around her waist, unable to resist the need to feel her closer... Vee did not mind, actually leaning back a little against him, gladly taking a sip of her drink before answering:

“You’d be surprised, there are bigger places laying around.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t look as tasteful as yours.”

“Nonsense. It only looks good right now ‘cause you’re in here. ... Any places you’re in looks a thousand times better than before.”

Vee’s blush was more apparent as she could feel the other gently nuzzle the top of her head, slowly making his way to a temple and leaving a soft kiss there.

“You’re one heck of a charmer, did you know that?” added the woman with a smirk.

“I only aim to please, I can’t help it.”

She turned to face him, raising a brow in amusement.

“And so what now? You brought me to your place only so you could woo and please me?”

“That does sound like a good plan.”

The feel of his hand next cupping her cheek brought a shiver across the woman’s body, leaning slightly to his touch. His scales did feel foreign compared to human skin, but there was a certain softness to it as well that only made her crave for more...

“Each days I wake up and wonder if meeting you was ever a dream...,” softly said the mutant.

“I wouldn’t mind making it feel a bit more real to you.”

That brought a quiet chuck out of Donnie, but also gave him enough courage to lean in and place a sweet, slow kiss on Vee’s lips. Each instances would bring their bodies closer, the duo mindlessly making their way back inside and only breaking their kiss to leave their wine glasses on a nearby coffee table. It was that magnetism, a certain je ne sais quoi that sparked that fire in them whenever they’d get that close. Last evening’s passion was still lingering and right now it felt as if there had been no break at all since then. As Vee was starting to unbutton the mutant’s shirt, both heard a beeping sound, stopping them dead in their tracks. Their eyes fell on Donnie’s right wrist - his watch.

“Shit, the food,” said the terrapin. “I, uh, I’ll be right back,” he added, trying to gain back his senses. “I’ll get it out and let it cool for a bit on the counter.”

“Sure, go,” replied Vee with a small smile, slightly flustered as she replaced her crooked glasses and moved some strands of hair away from her face.

She took back her wine as she watched him go. A part of her was telling her to slow down, but on the other hand she couldn’t deny that the need was there - on both sides. What harm could there be? It was just about having a little bit of fun... She proceeded back to the hallway, sipping as her gaze scanned the decor. She heard hurried steps in the staircase, soon Donnie’s shape coming into view. He tried to play it cool as he noticed the woman looking at him, vaguely gesturing in the kitchen’s direction downstair.

“It’s ready whenever you want.”

Vee took another sip, then adding: “We still haven’t finished the tour yet. Let’s do that first!”

“There’s not much left, but alright.”

“‘Not much left’, says the guy who lives in a two-story penthouse WITH an elevator,” pointed Vee, amused.

The mutant chuckled, inviting the woman to follow him as he left a hand at the small of her back. The next part had been completely renovated in order to have one room be a small lab, and the other one be a private gym and training area.

“What kind of trainings do you do?” inquired Vee, looking around at the equipment.

“Mostly nin-uhm, martial arts,” Donnie quickly corrected himself.

“’Nin-uhm-martial-arts’, sounds interesting,” laughed the woman. “Any specialty?”

“Bōjutsu,“ he replied, grabbing a pole from a rack nearby.

Vee whistled in appreciation, her eyes scanning the weapon.

“I’ve heard that can pack quite a punch, surprisingly.”

“It’s good to whack some butts, not gonna lie,” added Donnie, rolling the staff in one hand. Then in one swift movement he brought the woman closer, the pole resting at her back. “It can also be helpful for some maneuvers,” he ended with a smirk.

“Such a tease,” said Vee, playfully tapping at his exposed plastron. “I wouldn’t say no to a demonstration.”

“Another day, perhaps.”

He let her free, putting the staff back to its resting place

“Aight, come on, one room left!”

“What about that lab part?” asked Vee, following the terrapin next.

“There’s nothing much to see, frankly. It’s pretty messy as well.”

“Or maybe you’re just a mad scientist and you don’t want me to see your evil inventions?”

Donnie faked a surprised gasp: “Alas, you’ve uncovered my secret!”

Both were laughing as they made their way to the last room; the master bedroom.

It was quite simple and charming, but the main feature remained the large windows that gave that same phenomenal view of the city. Vee took some time to appreciate the decor, sipping the last drops of wine from her glass.

“... I can’t imagine waking up every day with such a view,” she mused, her gaze drifting back to the windows. “You must feel on top of the world.”

“Wait, I can make it even better,” said the other as he moved to the light switch.

As soon as he turned the lights off, the room’s atmosphere changed, suddenly illuminated by a sea of stars below them.

Envelopped in darkness, yet glistening in colorful lights, Vee felt at peace - a hidden watcher over this tumultuous city. She next felt her glass gently get taken away from her hold, the mutant leaving it on a small table nearby. It didn’t take long for him to get back close to her, his arms surrounding Vee’s form as he stood behind her. The woman easily slipped into that feel good moment, closing her eyes and exposing a faint smile on her lips. He felt so strong, yet tender - the promise of a good man that would never do her wrong...

“... I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hands travelling along Vee’s arms in light touches.

Oh to hell with it. She decided to move out of Donnie’s hold, proceeding to remove her shirt. She turned around to face him, noticing his gaze studying her form and probably a bit surprised to suddenly see her in her bra. But she didn’t give a damn. That’s what she wanted.

“And I’m glad to be here,” she answered calmly.

She heard that deep churr rise again in the mutant’s chest, an expression of desire which would entice her so much in return... Vee couldn’t help bringing her hands to his exposed chest, feeling the faint vibration and appreciating the texture of his plastron. Her touch lowered, continuing her previous task of unbuttoning his shirt. The turtle helped a bit by detaching another button behind his neck and then at his lower back, allowing the clothing to be properly removed from around his shell’s attachment. Without a shirt, Vee could rightfully observe the terrapin’s muscles, her fingers lightly hovering his toned arms and appreciating every inches of what she saw. All it took was for their gazes to cross, her greens in his golds, to bring back that same need from earlier. Kiss me again and again, and never stop...

The feel of his lips was pure addiction at this point. A slow dance that lightened up all her senses. Soon enough he was sitting down on the bed, Vee inviting herself unto his lap only so she couldn’t break their kissing. To feel his three-fingered hands across her skin kept her in such an incessant need, feeling like she was drowning in-between her legs. The terrapin dared to unclasp and remove her bra, although the whole movement felt very natural. In return, the woman removed her glasses, as well as Donnie’s, taking a moment to admire his traits.

“... You have such beautiful eyes,” she cooed, next tenderly sliding his bandana away.

She couldn’t get over the feeling of his scales under her fingers, soon nuzzling his cheek and her lips trailing light kisses here and there.

“Fais-moi l’amour (make love to me),” she whispered.

Donnie answered with a stronger churr, his hands travelling lower on Vee’s body only to bring her closer into one delicious wave motion, her lower core meeting his hidden erection. The movements were repeated, getting a momentarily release for all that sudden need. It was when he started to hear quiet moans out of her that he decided ‘screw it‘ and proceeded to shift her position to have her lay on the bed, on her back. Bringing himself over her, he left some kisses on her lips before starting to trail along her features, his tone husky as he started:

“You smell nice...”

He went along her throat, his pace slow and delightful. His path led him lower and lower, from her breasts to her stomach.

“I’m sure you taste nice too,” he added.

Sitting on his knees, he brought Vee’s hips over his thighs, but he gave himself a pause, his palm caressing the front part of her jeans.

“You good? You still wanna go on with this?” asked the terrapin.

She nodded, biting her lip in delight.

“Absolutely, or else I wouldn’t be laying here, half naked. ... What about you?”

He smiled, already at the task of unbuttoning and unzipping Vee’s pants.

“I never want to stop.”

In one swift movement, he removed her panties as well, undressing her completely without issue. He took a moment to study her form softly illuminated by the lights outside. She was a work of art to his eyes and right now he felt like the luckiest man alive... He lovingly squeezed her hips and altered with languid caresses over the woman’s skin, only to next bring one of his hands closer to her core, his thumb starting in slow circles over her clit. He could feel the relief washing over Vee’s body, her waist lightly following his motion only so she could feel more. The greater her need, the more Donnie didn’t want to let go. He even got to slip one finger in her at some point, her moans an absolute delight as he took his time. After a moment, he dared get his finger out, his gaze plunged in Vee’s as he licked his digit with a low churr.

“... You do taste nice,” he commented lovingly. “Now I wonder how you’d feel around me.”

Vee was unable to speak, her heart beating so hard and throwing any reason out the window... As she saw Donnie about to unzip his pants, she got on the move and decided to take the matter in her own hands. They joined in a kiss as she got to the task, the mutant’s hands caressing her skin and sometimes getting lost in her hair, visibly as much in need as her for their imminent union. He was able to get out of his pants and underwear in a slight clumsy fashion, but he was quickly back on his knees, allowing Vee to observe him. Of a mixed pink and purple color, his penis did present some characteristics that were not human, such as a slightly flared tip. As it had been internal until now, the organ was coated in natural lubricant when out, most probably allowing for an easier penetration and accomodation to any partner. He was a bit longer than what Vee ever experienced with other partners, but right now her desire was surpassing any concerns. They didn’t need to speak, Vee bringing the mutant into another kiss, allowing herself to climb back into his lap only for their cores to meet and rub in a delicious manner. The world around them was a blur of shadows and lights, only their presence the most real and tangible aspect in the room. Their thoughts were a cloud of mixed emotions, but right now what mattered most was that they wanted this. They needed this. A demonstration of love they’ve been holding back for some time now... Donnie instinctively started to shift forward, getting Vee back on the mattress. He was careful enough to hold back some of his weight on her, having enough strength to sustain himself, even when the woman would cling to him. He felt her legs gently caress along his, finding the best position to hold close to his hips, his shell proving to be somewhat of a challenge. That slight shift in her position allowed for better friction, the turtle’s languid motions bringing delighted mewls out of Vee. At some points he could feel his tip trying to slip in, to which he thought ‘fuck it’ and decided to go all in. Vee’s gasp brought him to a pause, remaining inside of her only so she could adjust.

“You okay?” he murmured, encouraging her with some kisses here and there on her features.

She nodded, her fingers lovingly going across his scales at his neck and shoulders.

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” he added.

He’d never excuse himself if he ever were to hurt her, anyway. His churr rumbled again as he slowly moved his hips in a circular motion, Vee sticking to him like glue. Her toes were curling due to pleasure, her body soon following Donnie’s pattern only to better meet his thrusts. Some slurred “fuck” and “oh oui” would leave her at times, sometimes interrupted by kisses that translated all the desire in her. At some point Donnie shifted their position so they would lay on their sides, still facing eachother. He helped one of Vee’s leg to stay up, his palm resting behind her thigh, allowing her to feel his muscles at work.

“You feel so good,” he complimented, back into an amorous motion.

The friction created by this new proximity was bringing Vee on edge. She was unable to answer anything, her breathing making her lose her words. It was the only encouragement the mutant needed, nuzzling her as he kept going. Everything felt so natural. As if all the pieces of an intricate puzzle had finally been assembled. There was this sensation of completion between them, knowing that something in their bond would definitely shift - hopefully for the best.

“You like that, baby? I won’t stop. I wanna feel you cum around me...”

She moaned his name in return, her eyes remaining shut as she lost herself even more in the moment. Every touches and kisses heightened all sensations, bringing both of them to an edge they so very craved for. Feeling Vee’s body tensing up slightly, the terrapin knew she was close to an orgasm, lightly squeezing his hold on her and bringing her into a french kiss. His thrusts were a little more forceful, their bodies tingling in anticipation. It was when she gasped for air, her nails digging into his scales, that he knew she was high on a cloud. He could feel her walls deliciously clamp around him, the sensation bringing him to his own edge as well. His orgasm brought him to slow his pace to long and langorous pumps. Their moans intertwined, riding this wave together. Neither of them wanted to depart once the high died down, keeping close and slowly petting eachother. Vee did bring Donnie’s attention on her as she left small kisses along his jawline. His golden eyes seemed to shine in this surreal lighting, conveying many unspoken words. There was this feeling of peace he never experienced with anyone else before. An affirmation that this was where he belonged, in her arms, as well as she belonged in his. They were still connected and it felt so right...

“Well, now that really opened my appetite,” finally said Vee with a small smile.

He smiled in return, leaving a kiss on her forehead. His appetite was growing as well, and for many things too...

***

Only wearing their underwears and glasses, both were now cuddled up in blankets on the couch in the media room, the television on to a random channel as they were eating their pizza (which they had to reheat, to their amusement). As they finished their meal, Vee did not mind cuddling closer to the turtle, simply enjoying eachother’s presence. Her attention did drift from the television at some point, observing Donnie’s traits instead. She was used to seeing him with his purple bandana, but even with a bare face and only his glasses he still had a lot of charms. He had a kind face and the cutest snout, the mere sight of him a wonder when compared to humankind. The terrapin did notice her focus on him at some point, smirking.

“Yes? Can I help you, madame?”

“I have a question.”

“Outrageous,” he added playfully. “... Do tell.”

She shifted her position a bit, bringing an arm against his chest, softly petting the scales at his collarbone and base of his neck.

“Why do you and your brothers wear those bandanas? ... If it’s too personal, you don’t need to answer.”

His smile was renewed and sweet, his arm around her bringing his hand to pet her shoulder and skin in return.

“I don’t mind answering at all, although I’ll skip some details.... But long story short, it was a gift given to us by our father, years ago. It has a great significance for us and it’s still a great proof of all we had to learn and overcome in order to be who we are today.”

“Something symbolic then, that’s nice,” added Vee. “As long as it brings something positive in your life, that sure can be as nice as anything. .... Also, not gonna lie, purple looks good on you.”

“It’s my favorite and it’s the best color, that’s why! What’s your favorite color?”

Vee was amused by this simple question, but that brought her to move once more. She was now straddling the terrapin, her eyes scanning him as she answered:

“It’s green.”.

“Oh,” added the other in amusement. “So I guess I must be quite the jackpot for you?”

"You're everything I want..."

There was no ounce of hesitation as she leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss. Donnie easily gave in, his hands resting at the small of the woman’s back This time there was no shyness in-between them, only comfort and peace. Soon enough the television was nothing but background noise as they kept going for a second round that night...

((Part 9))

[beebubb]

I wanted to know what it would have been like if it was actually isaac that was assigned to will as his guardian. So i made this of how i imagine isaac taking care of will and being his guardian.

Isaac grossman taking care of william grossman

Will would have been a LOT different if isaac was the one that raised him.

He wouldn't be the lazy lovable idiot that loves drinking that we all know and love

Isaac isn't a prankster or goofy like LJ, so it would have been like this:

Will as a baby:

LJ despised will at first, but that wasn't the case for isaac. He was happy and actually excited by knowing that he was going to have a great great great great (yall get the point so i'm just gonna say grandpa and grandkid so i don't have to write all those greats all the time) grandson

The rulers of hell didn't even need to tell him or assign will to him, isaac literally offered himself to care for him and be his guardian

He was even there when will was born.

They looked so much alike and isaac was proud of it

"I promise i'll always care for you, little william..."

He was invisible just like LJ and could appear whenever he liked

He was always with will whenever he got the chance

Would watch over will at night all the time and would calm him down before will started crying.

"Your mother is so lazy.....you're hungry and she doesn't have your milk ready..."

"BLOODY HELL!!! i'll prepare it myself!!"

Would complain about the parents a lot

I don't like the version of him being poor sense, come on, isaac went to BOARDING SCHOOL, and they were supposed to be poor? Hell no, he's a rich and elegant mf here

He expected nothing but the best for will.

"Are these bedsheets even real silk?!?"

"The plates aren't porcelain! This is cheap plastic! MY son isn't eating out of this!!"

He called will his son all the time

Will as a toddler:

Isaac taught will how to be "proper" and do things more advanced than his age to teach him early

Would read to him all the time.

Didn't like it when will's mom Or dad would try to show him baby shark or those Johnny Johnny songs. (he hated baby shark with a burning passion)

"baby shark is nothing compared to the masterpiece of beethoven!"

Will as a kid (4-12)

keep in Mind, will is NOTHING like his original self thanks to isaac

He's Great at school. Knows every single question he gets asked at

Doesn't get along with the kids his age.

Isaac taught him to have expensive taste. So will's parents had to literally change his wardrobe a lot

Have you seen that one kid from that one show named "young Sheldon" that's basically will right there

Didn't have many friends. So isaac was his only friend

Will was really elegant, had good manners, smart, etc

Basically the young version of isaac (besides the whole killing thing)

Will as a teen (13-18)

Isaac was really proud of will (ego much? Will is basically him now)

Will was still no different from when he was a kid, so in high school he was known as the nerd

Though will was actually cute

"he got his looks from me" (again, isaac with his ego)

Though isaac wasn't that wrong about will getting his looks from him. When isaac was still a full human, he was really good looking. And will and isaac looked identical, except for the hair type and nose, but from there, they were basically identical

Will was a huge nerd

"sorry I can't go out. I have calculus homework"

"sorry, I have violin practice in a few hours"

"the tea in that place is mediocre.... I rather practice my piano skills with my father" (Isaac insisted that will called him dad)

If Canon will saw this version of himself it would just be:

Canon will: LMAO who the fuck is this nerd?!?

Isaac version of will: I'm you, but more sophisticated

Isaac was happy with will but there was one thing that was missing

Isaac wanted will to become a killer just like him.

Though there is one thing that Canon will has that "sophisticated" will doesn't.

The wish to become a killer.

While Canon will WANTED to be a killer.

Will in this version, didn't

"father i....am quite content with my life here in the human world. Your world sounds..... Interesting... But.. I'm not sure it's the path I would like to take"

Isaac ended up convincing will to go to the underworld but, will didn't adapt to it like Canon will did.

Will liked his simple life in the human world. With lots of education opportunities at top schools. He didn't like the underworld at all.

Isaac killed someone infront of him to "inspire" him. But it didn't work

"can we just go back to MY world?! I don't want to be here anymore! I.... I don't want to be covered in blood! I don't want to be a killer like you!"

Isaac was kind of upset that will didn't want to be a killer. Will was his Descendant, it was Isaac's dream to have the killer thing go on for generations.

But will wanted nothing of the sort.

Extra note: in this version of will, will ends up not wanting to be with Isaac anymore. And their relationship is basically ruined.

[beelzebaes]

Lessons learned.

Obey Me! Shall We Date oneshot; Pairing: Beelzebub + (f)MC Warnings: None Genre: fluff, introspective, self indulgent The first time he sees her, Beel crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. Humans are small, fragile, breakable. He takes a hasty glance at his brothers and that’s really all it takes for him to know they feel the same way: a reign of demons, cold and sunless, was no place for a mortal. Even so, she doesn’t flinch at the sight of him. She stubbornly stands her ground, stiff yet proud, and slowly extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, and Beel almost laughs. He half-expects her to cower, to somehow will herself into shrinking down the second his hand grips hers, but she doesn’t. She smiles instead, teeth showing and everything, and it istantly reminds Beel of biblical miracles. He smiles back. That’s the first lesson he ever learns: strenght isn’t a demonic exclusive. Humans, he’ll soon find out, are way more resilient than he gave them credit for.

“Listen, I don’t mean to shame you, but this is just excessive,” she notes, ungraciously plopping down on his couch. She clicks her tongue eloquenty, pointing to the mountain of chocolate bars resting on it. Beel snorts at her signature lack of elegance, but chooses not to comment on it. “I am the Avatar of Gluttony, you know.“ He absent-mindedly throws one of the sweets in her direction, too busy unpacking his own to pay any mind to the strenght he put in the gesture. A loud thud forces him to peel his focused glance away from the precious bar and look at his companion, who appears to be utterly unimpressed despite a hand pressed against her heart. “Beel, you threw it all the way across the room!” she whines then, standing up to retrieve her chocolate. “No wonder people aren’t big on demons.” “Aren’t they now?”, Beel retorts. He puts a hand on her shoulder and nods to the couch. “Sit, I’ll get it,” he says apologetically. “Sorry.” He strides towards the bar, stretching a bit in the process. “You know, Beel– ” “Hm? What?” Beel picks up the chocolate bar, but doesn’t turn immediately. He senses something in her tone, a feeling he experienced before. He knows what she’s about to say, feels it coming with a certainty that he rarely ever knew before. A lot changed since she arrived, though. Beel’s never been one for surety, for definitive answers  – if anything, he used to be costantly torn apart by doubts. Admittedly, he didn’t have it easy, even considering demonic standards. He doesn’t really like thinking about it, nor he enjoys being reminded of it: Beel remembers all of it vividly, thank you very much. The exctruciating pain of losing a sibling, of being impossibly fast and strong, just not quite enough. Of course, how could one forget the tragedy of not being allowed to repent, his sin being plainly dismissed by everyone around him? No atonement meant no forgiveness, no forgiveness meant eternal torment. That, added to the loss of his home, of his very essence, utterly and royally fucked him up. What level of certainty could he ever hope to achieve? The mere thought used to be ludicrous to him, just as blasphemous as his own existence. Because, honestly, how else could anyone describe it? After his halo twisted into horrifying horns, how could anyone welcome such change? No, nothing made sense anymore. Until she stumbled right into his life, that is. As of now, pain isn’t the only thing he can remember. Beel thinks about it with embarassing frequency: he pictures a small human standing in front of him, arms stretched impossibly wide, small and unafraid, shielding him from what would’ve been certain death had Diavolo not intervened then and there. He muses back to the comfort washing over his body the second she took his hands in hers, nodding and smiling, ecstatic at the idea of a pact binding them together forever. She shined brightly then, open and honest, and it almost made him want to cry. The Devildom had no sun, no summer to speak of, but that was the warmest he ever felt. He learned a lot, these past few months. About her, about himself. It’s to be expected, she explained once. When you spend all your days by someone’s side, well, how can you not? Beel didn’t quite know how to respond then, but he understood eventually. He got to know her better than anyone, and she knows everything about him just as well. It’s almost odd really, considering the nature of their relationship, mortal human and immortal demon. But Beel treasures her more than anything else, more than life itself. She’s his light, his anchor, and he’s completely and absolutely hers. She’s the one thing he’s sure of. It clearly comes as no surprise that, the moment she opens her mouth, Beel just feels it. That tinge of worry in her tone, the way she suddenly pauses before clumsily trying to finish the sentence… he’s seen her stammer like that, and it’s never ended well before. He doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s staring down at her feet. He bites his lip and waits. “Sometimes I just forget,” she continues, faltering yet determined. “That you’re a demon, that is.” “Did my chocolate throwing skills remind you?” Beel answers. It comes way too quickly, and he’s still not turning to face her. He’s deflecting, they both know he is. “I’m sorry,” Beel offers again, “I wasn’t paying attention.” It pisses him off, the way he can’t do anything but apologize. It’s infuriating. Then again, what’s he supposed to say? Why yes, yes indeed, I am a demon and the very fact you’re alive right now is a miracle even I can’t explain. “It’s okay, I actually found it funny.” Her reply, the way she whispers it… all of it makes Beel want to scream. “You do realize I am… a lot stronger than you, right? I could kill you in two seconds,” he deadpans. “You should work on that survival istinct of yours. Geez, I’m hungry–” “You wouldn’t.” Beel turns to her then, spins on his heels unnecessarily fast, and opens his mouth to reply, to say something. Nothing comes out. He pinches the bridge of his nose instead, desperately trying to find the words to convey just how frustrated their exchange is making him. “Of course I wouldn’t. I won’t,” he manages. But you still need to be careful, because if anything happened to you– “I’m not worried about getting hurt. I’m not scared of you guys. Of you. You know I trust you with my life.” She’s standing up now, and Beel silently prays to any divinity out there she doesn’t come any closer. She does. Of course she does. She’s never been a fan of caution, after all. “I just think… I wish I was a demon, too. Or, you know, an angel. Something more than,” she points to her chest, smiling weakly, “this.” Everything unfolds so quickly then, it almost doesn’t feel real. Beel doesn’t quite remember his legs moving, closing the gap between them in a couple of hasty strides. He can’t recall his hands stretching outwards to hold her shoulders, as gently as he possibly can given the circumstances. He’s vaguely aware of her eyes growing wider and wider with wonder, his hug inevitably lifting her way above the floor, her arms struggling to envelop his huge back while she clings to his shirt with what he imagines is all the strenght she can conjure, but that’s all he manages to focus on. He has to tell her. He has to make absolutely sure she knows. “I wouldn’t change you for the world,” he says finally, and it’s barely audible, but it reaches her. She hears him loud and clear, as she always does, and cries. “But when I leave– ” “Then stay.” He’s never really said it before. He thought about it, obviously, but he never really expressed it like that. As unnatural as it is for a demon, Beel feels all too vulnerable, naked almost, but it’s out. Might as well roll with it, he concludes. Beel takes a step back, his hands still on her tiny shoulders, and exhales loudly. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until then. She’s standing there, stiff as a board, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Beel expects her to protest, and for a second he’s completely sure she will. And yet, she says nothing. A rare occurrence, really. “I know this place isn’t what you’re used to. I know there’s no proper spring, no actual summer, and I know you hate the food most of the times, I know you miss the sun, but I’ll try my hardest to make sure you’re always comfortable, and I– ” I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. “What are you talking about?” she suddenly cuts in, her hands trembling. She removes them from his back and wipes her eyes, only to place them right against his chest. Her eyes meet his, and Beel has to make a conscious effort not to look away. “The sun’s right here.” She smiles through her tears, and thanks to some sort of otherwordly miracle, it’s her usual smile. Teeth showing and all.  That’s when Beel understands. He’s already figured out how strenght can be borrowed, infinitely shared between two souls. She lent him hers, over and over again, teaching him how to take hurt and turn it into resilience. As tiny as she was, she supported him through it all, with all her might, albeit sometimes unsteady. He just never knew, never truly realised: she was his lighthouse, sure, but he was hers. He matters to this woman, this small breakable woman, just as much as she matters to him. And that’s the last  – and most important  – lesson Beel ever has to learn.

[dailydianakko]

Diana vs. The Webcam

I’m back, and with another one-shot! This is kinda a gift for Mod Nightly! Also I do recall getting an ask about Diana struggling with technology, so I guess this fits? Kinda? Anyway, this is my longest fic yet, clocking in at around 2,600 words. A big thank you to R5H for helping me edit!

Diana booted up the old computer in her study.  While she waited for the old thing to finish starting up, she let her eyes roam over the old room. Had it not been for the perfectionist tendencies of Anna, Diana figured the whole study would’ve been covered in dust. Much of it was as she had left it. This room had been her hideaway last school break. Anna may have cleaned it, but the books had been meticulously put back in the same skewed positions as Diana had left them. The obvious overflow of the literature made Diana make a mental note to either find better space, or perhaps put the lesser used books back into the family library. Tapping the mouse in a staccato beat, her eyes ran from the bookshelves to the paintings on the wall. Diana wasn’t attached to the multiple portraits of fruits; perhaps she would replace them with more personal pictures soon. She doubted it though, this room stayed the same. She may claim it would be renovated, but in the end she found that she rather liked the room and its timeless charm. It would always look the way she expected it to be. Like grandmother’s study.

A chime interrupted her thoughts and her attention turned back to the screen. The blue glow caused her to squint and quickly turn on the desk lamp. It eased the strain on her eyes and allowed her to log into the old contraption. The keyboard was bulky and grey, making loud clacks as the password was hastily typed in. Now to hook up a “webcam” as Akko had called it. The stubborn brunette had refused to allow Diana to purchase her a crystal ball and instead had presented Diana with a box. Inside had been the “webcam”. Akko had demanded that Diana “Get her head out of the 1800s and learn how to be a modern witch”. Diana let out a huff as she recalled that particular spat. Although, she was planning on looking into modern technologies anyway. Just in case Croix tried something again that would put Akko at risk.

Diana cracked open the webcam box, and flipped foremost to the instruction manual. As she quickly skimmed through the pamphlet, small disgruntled noises fell from her lips. “What in Beatrice’s name is a MicroSD, and how does one insert it into a computer?” This may take longer than she originally thought. Diana snapped the hairtie she was wearing over her wrist and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. After rolling up her sleeves, she removed her wand from the holster she kept on her hip. Muttering a quick chant and performing the proper wand movements, she summoned a wispy green spirit. “Please tell Anna that I request some tea and refreshment to the southern study.” The tiny spirit saluted and Diana covered her mouth, lest she let out a giggle and draw the ire of the small fae. With a nod, Diana dismissed the spirit and watched it zip through the door.

Once the spirit had left, she turned back to the task at hand. She wanted to at least have some sort of an idea before Anna saw her in this miserable state of confusion. This was why crystal balls were superior to mundane tech; you didn’t have to add anything. All it required was the right sort of spell. Although, now that Diana had a proper moment to reflect, Akko would most definitely have a harder time conjuring the required spells. While the excitable witch had made progress in leaps and bounds, the magic that required more finesse still left the brunette floundering. If Akko was trying hard in the more magical aspect for Diana, Diana could try hard in the more mundane aspect for Akko. Diana figured she had at least forty minutes for proper snacks to be made and for the tea to boil. She wouldn’t confirm nor deny knowing that the snacks meant for this evening had disappeared rather early today after she had passed by the kitchens.

Thirty minutes later Diana was feeling rather frazzled. Small curses she would never be caught dead uttering were flying from her mouth at an astounding rate. Her hair was messy, her back ached from frustration, and nothing was going right. Anna was due in the room at any minute, and Diana would rather she uphold her current reputation as a level headed and intelligent witch. She counted her blessings that O’Neill wasn’t here, lest the obnoxious redhead never let Diana live down her inability to hook up a webcam, and saying ‘fuck’. It had been uttered at least twelve times now. 

“Fucking hell” 

Thirteen.

Sitting up and taking a breath, Diana tugged on one of her loose bangs. She was an intelligent witch. She could do this. She twirled the desk chair once and got comfortable. Squaring her shoulders, she picked up the accursed instructions and gave them another look. As she was absorbed in sifting through the obscure text, a knock softly rang through the room in a pattern. One, two-two, one- one, one, two. “Come in, Anna,” Diana said as her eyes continued to scan the page. She absentmindedly waved her hand .

Her nursemaid glided into the room, tea tray in hand. It was piled with cucumber sandwiches, scones, and assorted tea cookies. An elegant teapot with a gilt rose design and matching teacup sat elegantly in the middle of the tray. Anna stood next to Diana and gave her a look of rebuke. The young heir was sprawled in the chair, one leg draped over the armrest, the other on the ground. Diana was using that leg to make tiny half revolutions as she slouched in the chair, one hand holding the instruction book, the other tugging her bangs. Anna cleared her throat, and Diana didn’t even flinch. Her hand flailed around, grabbed a sandwich. She began gnawing at it irately as she focused harder on the task at hand.

“Lady Cavendish.” Anna’s eyebrow raised and the frown lines on her face deepened. “Please refrain from such behavior.”  Diana froze mid bite into her sandwich. With a scramble of one moving for their life, she quickly straightened her posture. Smoothing her hair and practically tossing the sandwich back onto the tray, she faced Anna. The instruction manual fell abandoned at her feet. Diana would rather she not make a fool of herself trying to grab for it. Nine knows she had made a fool of herself already.

“Anna. Thank you for the refreshments. I ask that you forgive my behavior, I have been,” Diana glanced at the computer screen. It had gone back into sleep mode some time ago. “Rather occupied.”

“Of course, Diana. I only ask that you emulate the behavior of a lady when necessary. It would not do for you to show a sloppy side in front of those of a lower station.” Anna rested the tray on the desk and gently straightened Diana’s messy hair with a gentle hand. “Now, may I inquire what has you so distressed?”

Diana’s faced flushed as she glanced at the fallen manual. She cleared her throat in an attempt to buy some time to formulate an answer. “I wish to add a webcam to my computer, but much of this does not make as much sense as I wish it would.” Diana kicked the evil pamphlet gently. Her arms wound themselves around her torso and she pouted slightly. “I just want to video call my dearest friend, Akko”

Anna did a quick sign of the cross and muttered a Hail Mary at the mention of Akko’s name. She straightened up and gave Diana a faint smile. “Together we can puzzle through this, Diana. May I offer my assistance?”

Diana gave a tiny nod and quickly moved out of her seat. She wrapped Anna in a quick blink-and-you-miss-it sort of hug, and then flashed back into her seat. Anna let out a nearly inaudible chuckle at her young charge’s affection. Diana didn’t often like to be vulnerable. Weakness was easily taken advantage of in high society. Diana had caught on that regrettably quickly after the passing of her mother, Bernadette. Anna had done her best for her young mistress in a house absent of love. Seeing Diana smile more and act like a child was refreshing, even if it was improper. Anna crouched down and picked up the manual. “Now let’s take a crack at this together. Please eat while I go over and see what you could’ve missed.”

It took a full two hours, one and a half pots of tea, and at least ten cookies before the two had finally figured out the problem. As soon as the proper window had finally popped up, Diana let out a joyful cry and latched onto Anna, giggling. Anna couldn’t help but smile, and she indulged a minute or two in her almost adoptive daughter’s embrace. All too soon she extricated herself from Diana’s grip. “I’ll bring a fresh plate of cookies, Diana. Why don’t you call your friend?” Diana’s eyes lit up even further.

“That would be acceptable. I shall call Akko right now.” Diana practically wiggled in her seat. She then froze as if coming to a realization. Frantically she tidied her desk area and clothes. She took out her ponytail and grabbed her wand once more to cast a spell to neaten her hair. She had to look her best for Akko. A quick look to the wall clock told Diana it was about 9:25PM in Japan. Surely Akko would still be up. Anna hid a smile and quickly exited the room. Diana still had some cookies on her plate, and Anna wanted to leave the two girls alone for a bit.

Diana hastily booted up the program and went through the steps to call Akko. She waited with bated breath as the dots loaded across the screen. She looked as if she was in a silent prayer, hands clasped as she chewed on her lip.

“Konbanwa….” A messy haired Akko filled Diana’s screen. The hair that usually was stowed away in her little pigtail was practically sitting straight up. “Oh! Diana!” Akko’s accent had gotten even thicker during the few days she had been at home. The brunette rambled a few more words in her native tongue until she caught herself. “So!” Akko ran a hair through her adorably spiked hair. “Finally got the webcam up, huh, Diana?”

Diana blinked. She had been caught up in memorizing Akko’s cute bedhead. “Yes, it was quite a simple matter once I figured the instructions out. Took merely minutes to install.” Diana flicked her hair away from her face and stared Akko right in the eyes.

“Diana~ Your teeth are gonna rot from telling lies! You only ever do that hair thingie when you’re not being honest! I bet it took you hours. Did someone help you?” Akko flicked her screen and her picture flipped. “Oops.” The brunette deftly righted the mistake and began teasing Diana with that little smirk of hers.

“I’ll have you know-” Akko spun around in her chair, stopping mid spin to pull a face at Diana. “Confound it, Akko!” Diana dissolved into giggles. Akko looked on utterly smitten as Diana laughed. She missed this. Akko was so carefree, truly a breath of fresh air in Diana’s stagnant life. The rapid shutdown of the school due to the virus had sent Akko on a one way plane back home. Away from Diana.

 After Diana managed to compose herself, she noticed Akko had switched positions. Her hand rested her cheek, supporting her head as she looked at Diana in a dreamy manner. The slight knocking noise in the background clued Diana into the fact that Akko was swinging her legs under her desk. It was just like Akko during classes at Luna Nova. She could never truly sit still. Quarantine had made them both a little stir crazy. Seeing each other like this made things seem okay again.

“Atsuko, I truly missed you.” Diana’s eyes had a melty quality to them as she said this. Akko thought they kinda looked like the water in the Fountain of Polaris. Except while the waters in the fountain were cold, Diana’s were warm. Akko wanted nothing more than to give Diana a hug.

“I missed you too ,Diana. But! Guess what, you can finally see my room!” Akko slid her rolling chair away from the computer with a flourish, she gestured to her room. It was smaller than Diana imagined, and quite messy. The bed hadn’t been made and clothes were strewn about. The empty chip bag poking out from under Akko’s bed was especially incriminating. Of course, Diana also saw Shiny Chariot posters and collectibles littering the walls and bookshelves of the room. She noticed some other unknown cartoon characters, and made a mental note to look them up later. Akko’s birthday was coming in three months, and Diana wanted to send a care package to her.  The room was overall warm and lived in, just like Akko herself.

“It’s just as messy as I figured, Akko.” Akko let out a squawk and jerked her head to actually give her room a good look. Scrambling up from her chair, she jerked her sheets over the messiest bits of her bed and kicked her clothes out of view.

“Look, it doesn’t normally look like this,” Akko began to make a gaggle of excuses, each word coming out faster than the last one. She had turned back towards Diana, and was standing in the middle of the room.

“Oh? Now who is the one lying, Atsuko?”  Diana teased gently, a small giggle bubbling forth from her lips.  Akko paused in the middle of her wild gestures.

“I like it when you say my name, Diana.” Akko’s eyes gave a quick blink as her brain caught up with her mouth. Diana began to slowly turn red as she too processed what Akko had said. “I mean-what I want to say is-uh, etto, I really like the sound of your voice.” Akko covered her face and curled in on herself, wiggling from side to side.

“Akko,” Diana said softly, “I like it when you call my name too. I love your voice as well.”

Akko let out a muffled scream and wiggled harder. Her feet stomped lightly on the floor, tiny thuds accompanying her shriek. Diana felt her hands cover her face as well. She wasn’t usually as honest with her feelings as she was now. Akko tended to make Diana do crazy things, like venturing to the top of the stratosphere to stop a giant missile. Or like telling her things she swore never to say. Or actually giving people physical affection.

Akko peeked out from her hands, only to see Diana practically mirroring her embarrassment. “You’re cute, you know?” she blurted out. If Akko was going to die tonight, she might as well make sure she’d be six feet all the way under. It was Diana’s turn to let out a little squeak, so adorably uncharacteristic. “When this is all over, can I take you out to Blytonbury sometime?” Akko crossed her fingers, practically praying whoever was up there to let this work.

Diana peeled her hands from her face and took a deep breath. Looking a nervous Akko in the eyes, she gave her answer. “I suppose I would not be remiss in indulging on an outing with you at a later date. However, perhaps we can do something sooner? I’ve heard marvelous things about the internet.”

Akko let out a cheer and jumped into the air, only to scream as her foot slipped on some discarded shorts she had missed in her mad dash to ‘tidy’ her room. “Daijobu” a weak groan came from the floor as Diana let out a guffaw that evolved into full blown laughter. Akko watched happily from the floor. She would make Diana laugh more in the coming video calls, she hoped.

“So, how about a movie?”

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Hi. If the writing requests are still open, could you maybe do something with flirting freed and blushing Laxus. Thanks :)

Hello. I mentioned Laxus blushing maybe twice and got totally of track with this au. I’m awfully sorry and I hope u still accept this offer lmao 

Short summary: Au where Laxus works for a rich family. Their son is cursed to freeze the people he loves, so he has to keep a distance from them. Truly, A Very Not Good Time

WC: 5548 words

Fic under the cut!

With a slight tremour in his hand, Laxus looks up at the pristine white walls looming over him. Sighing deeply, he clutches the handle of his suitcase tighter and the servant next to him blisfully ignores him. "The Lord and Lady are awaiting you in the pavilion in the garden. You can leave your luggage here, someone will come and pick them up for you. If you'd follow me."

Without waiting for an answer, the stiff man turns around, striding away and Laxus awkwardly falls in tempo beside him. After a short walk that luckily doesn't leave him sweating, he is deposited in front of two people whose handkerchiefs look like they cost more than Laxus' entire outfit. It's now that he realises how out of his depth he is.

He clears his throat, but the servant stops him from going any further by stepping none too delicately on his foot. "Quiet", he hisses, "The Lord and Lady will speak to you as and when they see fit."

"Oh Charles, don't be like that", the Lord smiles and the servant bows hastily. Unsure of what to do, Laxus gives the man something between a bow and a firm nod. "You are dismissed", the man addresses the servant before beckoning Laxus to come closer. "Come hither young man, I've heard wonderful things about you." Laxus does as he's told and when the Lord offers him a chair, he accepts it. "Are you nervous?" his wife asks, eyes deep blue and sparkling with a barely hidden misschief.

Is he nervous? It's a wonder that she doesn't seem to ask it as a rhetorical question, instead she seems to be genuinely wondering about it. Of course he is. The two people in front of him own the land he's lived on all his life and then some. They're powerful, some say even on par with the king and with power does of course come an obscene amount of money.

Normally, Laxus doesn't care for the amount of cash one has or how many carriages they'll be able to buy in one lifetime. He'd gladly tell them to get hit by those carriages if he thought they'd deserve it. But now he can't afford to do that and somewhere, it does bother him. He's always been a man of simple pleasures and being brutally honest had been one of those things.

Being honest however, is something he can't do now. This job they've offered him pays more than any other in town and more importantly, he would be given a housing. With this job he could finally pay for his grandpa's medicine and he could give the old man a proper place to stay. No matter how these people will be treating him in the future, he'll have to shove his pride aside to keep this job.

"A little bit. But I don't think it'll affect my work and should it do so anything, you are free to claim it was artistic whims that made your garden look so avant-garde." The lady hums and spares him a little smile. "I am fond of whimsical things. It's why I married him", she jokes and moves her head into the direction of her husband. Laxus can't help but let a laugh escape.

Lord Justine raises a brow at that and Laxus quickly shuts his mouth again. Would you look at that, he's already overstepped his boundaries. The Lord's face clears up at that and he waves Laxus' worries away. "Young man, we've offered you to maintain our garden because we admire your work. You are an official part of our staff now, so don't be afraid to be frank. Life gets awfully boring when people trip over themselves to bend to your will without thinking. Do me a favour and don't be like that, okay?"

"Yes sir!" Laxus yells, bending to the man's will without thinking. Catching up to his own actions, he colours red. Ah damn. The couple doesn't seem to mind though, as they just brush it off with a laugh. "You are dismissed, change this garden as you see fit. It is your domain now."

"Ah dear", Lady Justine interrupts, "Let the young man settle in a bit first. Laxus right? We have honoured your request and have brought your grandfather over. He now resides in the room next to yours. Pardon me for asking though, but does he need a doctor? The man has a sickly glow about him." Concern colours her soft facial features and Laxus hesitates to answer. Then he remembers their command to be frank with them.

"I would really appreciate it if you did that. Thank you for your kindness. I'll try to pay you back in any way that I can." Lady Justine shakes her head, but the Lord gives him a once-over. "Say Laxus, can you hold your own in a fight? You are quite a big guy, I bet you could."

"I've had no formal training, but I have grown up around bar and streetfights", Laxus admits and the man hums in consideration. "We have a single child", he says and Lady Justine sighs: "And what a child it is."

"The boy has been cursed since birth by a witch who felt wronged by the both of us. This curse makes it so that our boy is very, very cold to any and all potential suitors. Cold to a painful degree for the opposing party and everyone who happens to watch the scene. Now if he were to be a bit of an ugly duckling, it wouldn't have been a problem. But unfortunately", Lord Justine moves his hand between his wife and himself and it hits Laxus just how stunning these two creatures are. "That's not exactly the case. Without meaning to, our son starts quite a lot of fights. He's a capable fighter, but if you happen to be around him, could you try to persuade him from instigating it? It would make the both of us very, very happy."

"I'll try?" Laxus says, unsure of how exactly he's supposed to keep a brat with blue who seems to be keen on starting fights in line. He's unsure whether it's really a curse or just a case of rotten personality. "That's all we could ask for", Lady Justine says before the couple lets him go.

The garden's magnificent and the fact that he's been given free reign over it makes his experience there so much better. It's all very pleasing to begin with, but there's so much unused lawn and after a moment of hesitation, he plants some fruits trees. After Lady Justine had commented on how nice they were, he had thrown his caution out of the window and had gone wild with the fruits and vegetables. He was a practical man at heart after all.

It's a few months into his work that he meets the young lord known as Freed Justine. No amount of warning had been able to prepare him for actually laying eyes upon the man in question.

He's dressed in a loose, light blue tunic. The fabric conceals some of his figure, but it does reveal a slight sliver of smooth skin and contrasting sharp collarbones and Laxus can barely draw his away from it. When his gaze travels upwards he lays eyes upon the softest looking pink lips in the world and he briefly wonders how they would feel against his own. After dismissing that thought, he spots the man's eyes, an impossible shade of blue that pops against the pale background of his skin. A beauty mark graces his left eye, making him look even more elegant. The finisher is his hair, looking like silk draped over one shoulder, moving softly as the stubborn wind tries to make a mess out of it. That doesn't happen though.

In front of the angelic looking man is another man, kneeling with his forehead against the ground. "Lord Freed!" the man in question yells, "Please accept my undying love and affection for you!"

"No. No, I don't think I will. Please leave." The object of the man's desires dryly says before turning his gaze towards Laxus. When his uncovered eye fully meets Laxus' eyes, he gets why people call the man in front of him cold. He's never once met someone who could relay complete and utter boredom that well with a single gaze. In a single eye. It's actually quite impressive.

"Are you a guard?" Laxus winces a bit at the sharp tone. "No, I'm the gardener."

"You lug wood around? Would you dispose of this for me?" Laxus has half the mind to tell him to dispose of the now crying lad himself, but then he remembers the request of Freed's parents. He promised them to try to keep their son out of fights, so he can't exactly tell him to start one. With a sigh he clamps the sobbing, love-struck fool under his arm and throws a salute. "I'll be putting him outside the gate."

"Have fun with that", Freed tells him and re-enters the home without sparing Laxus another glance. Somewhere within him, he wishes the man had looked back at him.

As soon as Freed's out of sight, it's like the man under his arm snaps out of a trance. "That fucking bitch", he rages as he trashes against Laxus' hold. "I'll kill him! Who does he think he is? He thinks he can go around stomping on people's hearts, just because he happens to be pretty and rich?"

"To be fair", Laxus starts, "He has every right to say no to people. You know that right?"

"He'll never get anyone better than me. At least I'm not only pursuing him for his money. He should be grateful. In fact, he should be the one begging for my attention!" Throughout his spiel, Laxus has taken the chance to take a proper look at the man he has trapped. "No offence, but aren't you a few decades older than him? Shouldn't you be a bit ashamed of chasing a young man in such a dishonourable manner?"

The old man now redirects his attention towards Laxus, but before he can voice his opinions, Laxus throws him over the fence. "Goodbye filthy geezer. Please don't come back."

God, Laxus wishes that old man would come back. Well, not really but the quality of men and women that have come in pursuit of Freed has only been declining since then. Although they're absolutely starstruck when meeting the young man, it doesn't conceal their greed and their particular brand of lewdness. The things Laxus has heard are absolutely disgusting and he wonders how Freed hasn't blown his own eardrums out yet, to save him from the comments directed his way. Laxus gladly disposes of them for him. Freed always leaves without sparing him a second glance.

One day, there's a change in routine. While Laxus is tending to his trees one morning, he hears soft footsteps and when he turns around, he sees Freed sitting down on the steps of the pavilion. "There are chairs in the shed, you know. I could get one for you if you want?" he offers and Freed jumps a little. Apparently the man hadn't noticed him yet.

The man gives a timid little shake of the head. "It's quite alright", he says and in the peaceful morning, Laxus can pay attention to the specifics of his voice. He's surprisingly soft spoken, but Laxus wouldn't call him shy. He has a velvety smooth and deep voice and talks in a calm manner, as though he knows that he'll be listened to without having to raise his voice.

For a while Laxus feels the man studying him. "Is there any reason you're here?" he decides to ask, unwilling to bear the silence any longer. "Peace, mostly", the younger man admits. "Also, they told me there was a big chance of meeting you out here."

"Oh."

"I don't think I've formally introduced to you. I am Freed Justine", he says and offers Laxus his hand. "I gathered that", Laxus answers as he shakes the hand. Freed's grip is surprisingly strong. "Jee, I wonder where you gathered that information from. Surely it wasn't from the string of admirers moaning it everyday."

Laxus snorts at the joke, but the facial expression of the young man in front of him doesn't change so Laxus quickly stops. "Please don't do that. This", Freed waves his hand in front of his stony expression, "doesn't ever change. I prefer it that way, it adds a bit of mystery to my character I think."

"You don't want people to know your thoughts", Laxus guesses and Freed gives him a nod. "I'd rather not. My life's bothersome enough as is, imagine how much more troublesome it would be if people could read my thoughts on my face instead of feeling them on their skin."

Seeing the puzzled expression on Laxus' face, Freed offers him both of his hands and Laxus tentatively takes them. The first thing he notices is the roughness of his palms and he wonders what Freed likes to do in his spare time. The second thing he notices is that they're unusually chilly and the longer he holds onto them, the colder they get. After a while it gets painful to hold onto them, so he lets go with an apologetic wince.

"The more I like a person, the colder I get. I think you're quite alright and I'd even say I like you a bit. But I have no deep attachments to you, so you are able to touch me for a little while. If I were to love you more than myself, you wouldn't even be able to be near me, you'd freeze into a fun statue of pure ice. If I felt completely neutral towards you, you would not be affected by the curse at all."

Laxus frowns at that. "That does not sound like a fun situation. How do you deal with it?" Freed gives him a mirthless smile. "I simply avoid getting close to people. It's easier than you think it is, mister Dreyar." He turns around after that, not telling Laxus goodbye and once again, he doesn't look back. Laxus, however keeps staring at the spot the young man had stood in. How awful it must be, to be close to no one. To not be able to feel the touch of someone who truly loves you.

After that particular conversation, Freed appears more often during Laxus' work. He never joins him in planting new plants or weeding though, he simply watches or reads a book in Laxus' vicinity. It's peaceful and every now and then they have other small talks. It's during those talks that Laxus learns that Freed does in fact have friends, he just doesn't meet up with them anymore after an incident he refuses to tell Laxus more about. When spotting his sad expression, Freed reaches over to smooth Laxus' worry-wrinkles out and Laxus notices that his hand feels colder than before. "Don't be saddened, we still write each other. Nothing's lost, it has only changed."

During one of Freed's visit, Laxus tells him he might as well get his hands dirty if he keeps distracting him from his work. He offers Freed a little sapling with a smile and quickly that smile withers as the plant in Freed's hands does the same. "My apologies", Freed says as though he had done something wrong instead of Laxus. "I fear I simply do not have the green fingers needed for this type of work. I'll leave it to the master of the garden instead." With an even colder finger, Freed briefly pokes him in the cheek and Laxus knows he isn't mad at him.

Freed's appearances are now a constant in his life and something Laxus constantly looks forward to. From what little hints Freed gives him, the man feels the same way. Freed still tries to keep a lather large distance between them, but more often than not he forgets himself and scoots closer to ask Laxus about the flowers he's planting or tell him about the all the poisons one could make with those flowers. He doesn't know why Freed knows such an alarming amount of poisons, but it's a quirk he doesn't dislike.

Freed likes to ramble, Laxus comes to find out. It's surprising how much he knows about various topics and how clearly he can explain things. Freed's face is the most open when he's ranting about one of the books he's read that day and Laxus finds himself fascinated. Besides talking, Freed's also really good at listening. When Laxus tells him about his past, the man lets his guard down completely to show his compassion from quite a distance away. Freed explains that his curse can temporarily rise up when he's feeling something very passionately.

It's on a sunny day, where the bees are buzzing and the heath is turning the atmosphere languid and the good kind of lazy, that Laxus offers Freed a hug.

Here's the story. Laxus, although brought up in a household where declarations of affection weren't the norm, knows what it feels like to receive positive bodily affection. A pat on his back, a ruffle through his hair, a loving shoulderbump, he has received them all. Freed hasn't. Not regularly and Laxus guesses, not ever.

He's seen the Justine parents interact with their son and although it hadn't been malicious, their interactions had been anything but warm and friendly. There was an obvious mutual respect, but the parents held their son at an arms' length. Laxus' heart ached when he had laid eyes on the spectacle and that had been the beginning of his desire to provide for Freed emotionally in some way, shape or form. God knows he himself is quite clumsy when it comes to being affectionate (quite clumsy doesn't start to begin to describe it, actually), but he wants to at least do something.

"Hey Freed", he calls out the man laying next to him on the picnic blanket. "Hm?" the man says, not opening his eyes at all, but still signifying that he's paying attention to Laxus. "Would you like a hug? I know you don't like touching people because of your accident, but we're not all that close, I think. It should be pretty safe, want to try it out?"

That does make Freed's eye snap open and he rolls on his side to face Laxus. "Why?" he asks and Laxus shrugs. "I thought it'd be nice, that's all."

"Do you pity me?" Freed asks, voice dangerously low and blue eyes glaring daggers. Despite the sunny weather, Laxus shivers underneath that stern glare. "No, but I sort of sympathise. There was a period in my life where I didn't receive any form of affection at all and it had quite the impact on me. Not a good one, mind you. I remember receiving my first hug after that period and I broke down and cried like a baby. It was a sight."

Freed smiles at that. "I bet it was." The fondness of his smile makes way for a particular brand of shrewdness that Laxus has come to associate with Freed. With a quick movement, the man has positioned himself above Laxus. He's not seated on his lap, which Laxus both mourns and doesn't. He doesn't mourn it because he can't embarass himself but he does mourn it because now he can see the muscles of Freed's legs working to keep him upright as he's kneeling above Laxus and dear lord, the sight of those could be the death of him.

With a rough hand, but a gentle manner, Freed tilts his chin up, forcing Laxus to meet his eyes and he dryly swallows as he sees the barely concealed heath in those deep blues. "Are you sure it's just that, mister Dreyar? Merely sympathy?" he asks, voice husky and Laxus colours a deep, deep shade of red in response. "Oh darling", Freed croons at that, "You have such an open face. You should really learn how to conceal your intentions."

"What if I don't want to?" That shuts Freed up and for a moment the man is quiet. Laxus wonders if he's screwed this up, but then Freed shakes his head and moves back away again. "Alright, give me a hug. It better be good. One of my eyes may be covered, but I am still plenty able to see those thick arms of yours. If I don't feel like the life is being squeezed out of me, I will consider this a failure."

Grinning, Laxus flexes his arms. "Don't you worry for even a second. I'll crush your ribcage." Freed snorts.  "Charming." The process of getting into the hug is a bit awkward, but once there, it's alright. Of course, Laxus starts the whole thing by absolutely crushing Freed's ribcage. The man laughs it off like it's nothing and that prompts a bit of a squabble.

After a while and a lot of shifting though, Laxus has Freed in his lap, his head tucked underneath Laxus chin, back resting against Laxus' chest. Feeling brave, Laxus moves his own head from the top of Freed's head to Freed's shoulder, angling himself so he's nuzzling the man's neck. "See, this is nice."

"It is", Freed agrees before fully relaxing against Laxus chest with a content little sigh.

The moment is soon broken though, as frost creeps along Laxus' body. At first he ignores it, because Freed himself doesn't seem to notice the effect he's having on Laxus. Then, it starts getting uncomfortable and so he tries to gets the man's attention. He finds himself unable to move any part of his body though and the cold numbs his mouth as well. The thin layer of ice keeps getting thicker and the creaking of the frost is what attracts Freed's attention.

With a brusque movement, the man tears himself away from Laxus. He reaches out to Laxus, before stopping himself and running off, shouting something Laxus can't hear. It's so, so very cold. He curls into himself to gather more warmth and he finds it. He should go to sleep, he thinks as he feels his eyelids get heavy. He doesn't fight his instinct to do so.

When he wakes up, he's in his own room. Looking around he sees only one other person in the room. With a wave, his grandfather greets him. "You sure live an interesting life huh?" Ignoring his remark, Laxus asks him where Freed's at. "The young Justine? He's been fretting all day, but he has not come to visit you because he's started freezing up the hallways whenever he came too close to you. I think it's fair to say the young man likes you quite a bit."

Laxus should be elated to hear that someone loves him, but his worry for Freed overpowers that notion. "I bet he's lonely again." His grandfather nods. "With a curse like that, I imagine it's hard not to be."

It's unfair. It's unfair that Freed will live his life void of companionship. He'll never be able to be surrounded by true friends and he's constantly preyed upon by people for his status and money. The saddest part is that those kind of people are the only ones Freed will be able to live his life with, as all other will be turned to statues of ice. It's unfair that an innocent young man is punished for his parents' crimes like that. Passionately, Laxus relays those thoughts and many more to his grandfather, who patiently listens to him.

"So what are you going to do about it?" he asks and because it's his grandfather talking, Laxus knows there's no malice behind the words. "I don't know. Do you know any witches that could help lift the curse?" Although it had been more of a joke than an actual question, Makarov strokes his beard as though he's mulling over Laxus' question. "No, because proper witch etiquette states that a witch should absolutely not undo another witch's curse. I do however, have an inkling who the witch might be that cursed this young man. I can tell you where to find her, but be prepared my boy. She's not a very reasonable lady."

"That's what many people say about me as well. I don't care, please tell me where to find her." After his grandfather tells him the whereabouts of this particular witch, Laxus prepares for his journey. He starts with writing Freed a letter, one where he explains that he does not blame Freed for what happened and asks for his forgiveness, as well as for the man to wait for him. That he's looking for a way for them to be together. After delivering that letter, he sets off.

This Porlyusica lady really seemed intent on ticking off all the "witch"-boxes. Unreasonable? Check. Old? Check, since his grandpa knew of her. Living in big, dark, nearly impenetrable woods? Abso-fucking-lutely. It's a bother honestly, whacking his way through all the branches and thorns. But he perseveres because he has to.

Finally, he reaches her house and before he can even knock on the door, she opens her window and tells him to get lost. "Leave me alone, I've seen enough of you humans for another hundred years!" Determined, he yells back a loud "No thanks! Please let me talk to you!" She doesn't open the door for him.

So he waits in front of her door, unwilling to move an inch even if she yells at him. After three days she's finally had enough and lets him in. "You're so annoying. That particular brand of mulishness can only be attributed to one family. You're a Dreyar, aren't you?"

Sheepishly he nods and she rolls her eyes. "Of course you are. Spit out why you're here and if I'm unable to help you, leave or I'll curse you to hell and back." She's got a spine made of pure diamond, but Laxus isn't easily intimidated. "It's about that topic actually. You've cursed a man called Freed Justine."

The woman lets out a bitter, little laugh out at that. "I most certainly did not. I cursed his parents, but gave them the option to relay it someone near to them. It was only me, them and their unborn son in the room where it happened. They chose to curse their boy. Don't put that on me."

That's certainly a revelation...Laxus wonders whether he should tell Freed about it. He fears that it might shatter the already frail bond he shares with his parents and it's not as though Freed's got bonds to spare. Deciding to tackle that topic at a later moment, he turns back to Porlyusica. "Can you reverse the spell? It's ruining an innocent man's life."

She strokes her chin and gives him a squinting look. "How far are you willing to go for your goal? Do you really want this curse to be lifted or are you trying to achieve another goal by doing this?"

He shakes his head vehemently. "I'd like for him to be able to smile near his loved ones, that's all. I promise." After scrutinising him a bit more, she shrugs. "Alright then, it's not like I've got something against the young man himself. Here's the two steps to breaking the spell: 1. You're the Justine family's gardener aren't you? Here's a list of a couple of herbs I'd like you to grow there. They are only able to grow on that particular patch of land and since they stole it from me, I had to buy them. It's a financial pain in the ass, you know. 2.", she looks Laxus straight in the eyes, "Confess your honest love to him." Laxus chokes on his spit at those words. "Oh don't be like that, you're so obvious. Do that and he'll be fine."

While Laxus is still gathering his wits, she pushes the list with instructions for the herbs and some packets with seeds  into his hands and manhandles him out of the door. "There you go loverboy, good luck and all that. Now scram, I've had enough human interaction to last me another three lifetimes." And with the list with herbs and a head full of confused thoughts, Laxus returns to the Justine mansion.

Part one of the counterspell is as easy as breathing. Laxus plants the herbs as soon as he comes home. He tends to them day after day, but sorely misses Freed's presence while doing so. He keeps looking out of the corner of his eyes in the hopes of laying eyes on the familiar see of green that is Freed's hair, but alas, he never comes. Sometimes Laxus thinks he can see glimpses of him through the window, but the moments are too fast and fleeting to fully conform this.

Once the saplings have fully grown, Laxus starts to work on part two of the plan. Or well, he starts to think about how he should even attempt to do such a task. He thinks, ponders and wonders a lot and ends up doing significantly less. It's embarassing, really.

A good thing though, is that recently Freed has been seeking him out again. Laxus wished they could've talked, but someone's always whisking either one of them away for something or other. It's infuriating and in those brief moments, Laxus can see that Freed thinks the exact same thing.

Finally, finally they can squeeze out of both their schedules and they find themselves in the garden, sitting on the steps of the pavilion. Before Laxus can try his hand at confessing (which probably would've gone disastrous), Freed grabs his hands with shining eyes and to Laxus' surprise, they're warm.

"It's like the curse inversed", Freed tells him excitedly, smiling brightly. "The cold isn't getting to other people anymore, it's confined to me solely." Now that he says it, Laxus can see the snowflakes on Freed's already pale skin connecting, forming a layer of frost. With lips that are turning blue, he smiles and Laxus wishes he wouldn't look that grateful. "I can be around people without hurting them now. Everything's alright now."

"It's not", Laxus blurts out, "Freed, it's really not." With a scowl, the man immediately pulls his hands back and defensively curls into himself. "Can't you be happy for me?" he spits out, "This is the best thing that's happened to me in years, it's fine if I turn into an icicle, I don't care. Just let me have this, please." Freed's anger reaches a boiling point, before he deflates and sighs so deeply and sadly. With fingers stiff from the cold, he reaches out and tilts Laxus' head just slightly so. "Do forgive me", he whispers in Laxus' ears, his cold breath sending chills down Laxus' spine. After that he gives Laxus the smallest, most innocent kiss Laxus has ever received in his lifetime. It's so, so very careful and after he pulls away, Freed cradles Laxus' hand to his cheek and whispers a quiet: "Thank you."

His eyes turn empty after that and the continuous creaking of ice stops, leaving only a horrible silence behind. Freed had been crying, Laxus realises as he touches the man's frozen face. He looks peaceful and a melancholy sort of happy. With a soft bump, Laxus brings their foreheads together and places his own hand on top of the one cradling his cheek.

"Hey Freed", he breathes, voice barely a whisper, "What I meant to say, is that you deserve more. You deserve to reconnect with those old friends of yours without freezing either them or yourself. You deserve to make friends without fearing you'll end up hurting them. You deserve the world and if I could, I'd give it to you. But honestly, I'd just like to spend more time with you." He pauses, closes his eyes and presses a kiss to Freed's hand. "I love you."

It's not like those words suddenly make the ice burst, splinters flying everywhere and impaling Laxus, killing him upon impact. Instead, he finds out that the ice had in fact been melting when Freed's hand softly strokes his cheek. Laxus' eyes snap back open and Freed gives him the most gorgeous little smile. "Well, aren't you mister dramatic. Waiting until the last moment, all fairy tale-esque", Freed teases and Laxus flushes till behind his ears. "Shut up", he murmurs and because it look like Freed does not plan to do that and instead make fun of him forever, Laxus traps him in a bearhug.

Freed squeezes back just as hard and they stay like that for a long, long time. By the time they disentangle themselves from each other, the sun's already setting. "Would you like to meet my friends?" Freed asks, "Since the inversion of the curse, they've been living here again. They are very important to me."

Taking Freed's hand, he says: "Of course. I'd love to meet the people important to you." He squeezes Freed's hand and the man smiles at that little touch. "Well then, let's go."

[that-mom-friend-talks]

Sanders Six the Musical

I’m listening to the soundtrack again and I’ve had thoughts so-

this is when they actually all get along, no dark side light side bs

EX WIVES: Aragon is Roman, paragon of royalty indeed, very loyal and a big diva, petty. Boleyn is Remus, would split nations bc he’s too sexy and would be proud of that, would definitely get executed. Seymour is Patton, a parent, died, puns. Cleves is deceit bc the whole discourse over looks. Howard is Virgil bc coming in strong and sassy but if you look at it too long its angst. Parr is Logan, bc composed elegant and badass, also lowkey narrator, keeps everyone on track, also smart one liners.

NO WAY: opens with Roman just patting himself on the back for how much he dealt with, throwing shade, golden rule, heavy Beyonce vibes and he would, petty about Remus. proud and spiteful, extravagant and breaking into rap. royalty and won’t let you forget that, will never leave. hella vocals and will flaunt them at any given moment to remind you how awesome he is. dance break!! i imagine him twirling his sword and kicking ass while dancing or smth. break for seriousness, still beautiful vocals, petty and shady and just for it. stands his ground, will be royalty forever regardless of what happens. doing his damnedest to make you regret dumping him.

DON’T LOSE UR HEAD: Remus mentions he’s royalty but that’s like it. boys lame? gay disaster. seriousness isn't his thing. met the king and wanted to f. cocky and definitely not pg. flirty and immature, also dismisses all criticism. faking innocence, but not naivete. is the side ho, and definitely would homewreak without regrets. gives Roman a ton of shit, makes gruesome comments. does the unorthodox and terrible way of dealing with situations. just wants to fuck, why is religion like this. but now he’s the main ho not the side one and he’s over it. would definitely get executed for stepping out of line/ over the line. legit doesn’t know what the proper response is but will mask that with sheer chaotic energy. where did the vocals come from, goddamn. really doesn't care for repercussions.

HEART OF STONE: Patton!!! knows how the other person is changing all the time. he knew what he was getting himself into, but promised he’d be with them. heart of stone, he’d always be by your side and despite everything that he feels and deals with he will make it through. life is hard and emotions can be rough, but he will be there through all of it. famILY! loves deeply and truly, but knows that it can change. but he doesn’t care! he’ll still love you. wow this song is beautiful ok. knows his time is limited ??? his love can be felt from wherever you are, he will always be there with you regardless of what’s going on. cares deeply about his son. THE HIGH NOTE GET IT!!! he will bear everything in order to lighten your load a little, but he won’t break, because he loves you too much.

HAUS OF HOLBEIN: Remus made this the song that plays whenever someone enters the darkside hallway and they don’t know how to change it back. just the twins and Virgil fucking with deceit, tbh. but he’s vibing with the song so it’s not terrible. Logan is factchecking and Patton is just dancing along not really listening. Virgil has the airhorn. everyone is doing meme dances. it is chaos and cringe incarnate they’re lucky Virgil is a meme lord.

GET DOWN: Deceit by himself being a damn diva. Virgil and Remus woof. profile picture he looks like either Logan or Patton. but he’s got a pic of him doing like a smolder. he’s in charge and trying to be subtle about it but he’s too dramatic so it’s just him bragging. oop a religion reference. Remus and Roman are back up dancers. Deceit being really petty about being pushed aside. instead of the slow mo its the opera version. check out the american cleves. its beautifully sassy. he’s different and flaunts it. the ending is so badass, he would just have all six hands out and being cool. the song is just him being super duper sassy.

ALL YOU WANNA DO: Virgil. in the beginning hyping himself up (like when he was first introduced) but it just progressively gets worse. innuendos all day long, Remus is making crude hand motions in the background. starts off innocent and romantic but like the world just crushes it. i hate this song bc of how wonderfully it conveys the trauma, i feel atrocious at the end of it everytime it’s incredible. Trust issues!! starting to become suspicious of others, and eventually certain that all other people do is be cruel and abuse you. he’s finally got a place!! he feels comfortable!! then something happens and that’s not the case anymore. god this song is terrifying. progressively becoming more numb and cynical and covered.  THOMASSSS. honestly yeah i’m down with that. just bar the “connection” and i’d say it’s spot on. anyways. a panic attack in the midst of a song? you bet your ass he’s still got a gorgeous and haunting voice. eyeshadow progressively getting darker the whole song. Patton is sobbing, everyone is crying. The song ends with a group hug bc that’s some heavy shit

I DON’T NEED YOUR LOVE: Logan!! my boy!! anyway. he has a love (his work, another side, take your pick) but he wont’ let himself indulge because he has to survive. he has to do what he must in order to keep living, and sometimes that means he can’t do what he loves. he still loves them/it but he can’t. emotions!!!!!!!!!!!! also he’s got an angelic voice like its so clean and smooth and elegant. has responsibilities that he must deal with, but he really doesn’t want to. those repressed emotions come out and he’s so damn fed up with how he’s treated and he’s just venting and releasing his anger. but he can’t. it will interfere with his responsibilities. narrator mode get that exposition. why should that be what you know of him though? he’s so much more than just his role! he loves space and writing and poetry and songs. advocate for education and human rights!! but he metas and knows that’s not his purpose in the story so he stays within his role or else he’ll disappear. and the others butt in on the moment bc he can’t have a song to himself. but he rallies everyone to put their differences aside and they all indulge in what they wish happened. they don’t care about the plot! they don’t care about the story! they are just who they are, each individual and different and people! and Logan doesn’t need validation and he’s not lying this time! also the vocals here god i love this song so much hnng. THE HIGH NOTE GET IT YESSSS. he would bc he’s a secret diva no one can tell me otherwise.

SIX: Roman rejects a prince bc he’s a king and he just sings for the rest of his life at the top of the charts indeed. Remus plagiarizes and becomes famous for it, putting his own twist on it. Patton just has a big famILY and they all get along and sing, also puns! someone face palms at them. Deceit brightens up the darksides bc he’s the wine aunt and a dad. Virgil avoids trauma and learns what he wants, and enjoys his music for the rest of his life. Logan is fascinated with the others, and admits that he loves the other sides. they know that this isn’t canon but boy are they taking it for a ride. THEY ALL START GLOWING IN THEIR COLORS BC I SAID SO. THE ENDING!!! screams epic magic girl transformation to me for some reason. everyone is having a blast, and at the end they all merge into thomas who shoots upright with a smile

if only i could animate man. this would be so good, if anyone at all makes this i will cry someone please do something i’m begging

[writeanapocalae]

Alii Inspiriti

Inspired by Art | Read on AO3

Warning for Emotional/Physical Abuse

It was a rough job, it would be unusual if there was a day in which anyone not assigned to desk duty to be free of bruises. Scrapes and bandages were as common as cups of coffee and, while the androids were able to heal fast enough that most marks would be gone in a matter of hours, even they weren’t free of such wear.

Gavin was sitting at his desk, glaring at the empty seat across from him. It was uncommon that Nines would be late to work but this was a full fifteen minutes. They had gotten really banged up the night before, the human had gotten shoved through a window, so he had to assume that Nines had called out or was, at the very least, sleeping it off. It wasn’t like he’d fallen any, just banged his spine on the railing outside, but there were a lot of small gashes, twinkling shards shoved deep. He’d said no to a hospital visit though, as well as any of the care his brother tried to give him. He just took care of it on his own.

Gavin’s head swiveled, the rest of him stuck in place, as the door opened and the detective stumbled in. He wore a long black coat and tight black turtleneck and more bandages than could be hidden under the material. There were bandages on his face, one poking up from under the high neck of his shirt, and soft wrapped around his fingers. The bags under his eyes were even darker than usual and he was cradling a cup of coffee as if the paper were the holy grail itself. He glared at everyone he passed as he went to his seat and fell into it. There were a few glares, the strongest coming from Connor, but he ignored them all.

“So you finally decided to show your blocky head,” Gavin gritted out through a sneer. “Thought you’d finally kicked it.”

He didn’t take off his jacket. He dug out a bottle of pills, pouring some high potency caffeine into his hand before chasing it down with his coffee. “Not in the mood,” he said, even less emotional than usual. “Kind of wishing I did.”

The sneer dropped from Gavin’s lips. As much as he didn’t agree with working along the human, who had shown himself as being clumsier and more apt to getting himself hurt than most, he still had his programming to tell him not to push it. Human life was paramount and Nines didn’t sound like he was joking really.

“You still feeling like shit?”

“Worse than yesterday.”

“It always gets worse before it can get better.”

Nines’ mouth was in a straight line. He didn’t make eye contact with Gavin. He played with the engagement ring on his finger, a nervous tick that Gavin had noticed early on. He wore a few rings but that was the only one that he didn’t take off, that didn’t get tossed and juggled or rolled along knuckles as Nines thought.

“You better be more careful,” Gavin suggested, “don’t want to leave that girl of yours all alone do you?”

“Hmm,” Nines grit out around another mouthful of coffee. He smelled like cigarettes.

When Gavin took a quick scan of the room he noticed Connor, sitting perfectly straight at his desk, eyes soft with concern as he stared at Nines.

---

“No,” Gavin shoved Connor’s shoulder, offsetting him, making him take a few steps back. “Guy might be a dick and a half but lines exist for a goddamn reason and I’m not crossing them.”

“It’s more than a few bits of glass!” Connor shoved back, with his words instead of his hands. “You know he won’t go to a doctor, but there’s something wrong here, you have to see that.”

Gavin shook his head, chewing on his lip. “If you care so much, why don’t you just ask him?”

Connor’s hands were in fists at his sides. His head was down, his gaze glossy with wetness. “I have, trust me. He used to be so elegant, so sure of himself, I can’t place when but he suddenly lost all of that and when I asked he kept me out. There’s something wrong, not just right now, though I know it’s more than a few cuts, but it’s been wrong for a long time now.”

“Is that your amazing detective mind at work? Something is wrong?”

That got Connor to glare at him with those big brown eyes. “He’s your partner. You should care if he’s alright.”

“And he’s your brother. You do something. I’m not scanning him.”

Connor lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag, running a hand through his hair as he looked away from Gavin, out onto the rest of Detroit. There was a shadow in him, some darkness that he couldn’t get out. Gavin didn’t want to be there for when it broke free. He turned and went to the stairs, leaving Connor and the roof behind.

---

The railing had hit Nines in the spine, right across the lumbar. That would have bruised badly, hurt like a bitch, but that wasn’t what this was. Nines had been using the coffee as a shield, to hide the fact that he was cradling his ribs. Now that he was out of coffee, pulling himself up, wincing, dragging himself to the break room for a refill, it was obvious that every move hurt. Gavin watched him, not scanning, not using any android tricks to figure out what had happened, but putting his brain and detective training to proper use.

Nines was hiding the fact that he was hurting, which led to why he didn’t like hospitals. He didn’t want anyone to know, didn’t want anyone to ask about it. The damage wasn’t from the crime scene or from any other recent incident. He was clumsy now, when he used to be sure of his footing, as if he was acting out evidence that he hurt himself. When asked about his personal life he was short and curt, to the point, but he always had something positive to say about Denise, as if he was protecting her honor. Gavin had a lot of information in his head, a lot of past cases to study that had similar features. It was easy to figure out what was happening.

Connor didn’t know, he believed his brother’s stand offish attitude, the way he was so painfully in love with his fiancee, the fact that he kept everyone else out. It was clear to an outsider, but for someone who was close, it was impossible to see.

He waited half an hour between the time that Nines left to pack up some files and follow him to his apartment. He’d never been there before but it wasn’t hard to find, he knew the address from Nines’ file anyway. Taking a taxi just made everything easier, gave him time to think up what he wanted to say. It also left him with some time to think about what he was doing.

He didn’t like humans. He didn’t have a good relationship with Nines and, if anyone asked he’d say that he didn’t like him either. What did it matter what humans did to one another, anyway. As long as he wasn’t involved they could tear each other apart and he wouldn’t have a single instability. He did like Nines though. He was smart and analytical and hard as fuck to read, making Gavin loud and obvious just by proximity. He was good at his job and, when he was pressed to be, he could be genuinely kind. It was the kind of kindness that came easy but was hidden away, as if it could be used against him. Considering what Gavin was doing, he’d guess that it had been.

They were partners. He couldn’t do his job if Nines was wounded for no reason. That was the logic of it. He could pretend it was the only one.

The complex was big and it was nice enough on the outside but in surprisingly poor condition on the inside. It wasn’t anything that would raise flags in humans but Gavin could see the black mold growing in the windowsills and the thick layer of cigarette smoke not only dyed the wallpaper but felt tacky against Gavin’s sensors.

He could hear everything. No one here was quiet. There were dogs barking, children crying, food burning, arguments and love being made. Humans were messy and self destructive. This wasn’t the sort of place that he’d imagine Nines living on his own terms.

Another argument, though after a moment of listening, Gavin could tell that this one was one sided. He adjusted his posture, stopping in front of the door, clutching at the folder at his side. Everything inside of him told him to break down that door, a thousand different scenarios building in his mind in under a minute, none of them good.

He knocked. Everything went quiet.

The door opened and he looked down, finding a blonde woman of small stature, without much muscle mass or intimidation. Her smile was more plastic than anything that Gavin was made of. She was pretty, according to ratios and studies. Even if Nines had told anyone what was happening, they wouldn’t believe him if they saw her. He was a big strong man, he should have been able to defend himself, especially from someone so small, that’s what they would have thought.

She noted the blue of his jacket, his model number, and her cold brown eyes met the yellow LED on his temple. The smile fell, replaced with a disgusted smirk. She crossed her arms and turned back to the room behind her, “Hey, Dick, that plastic shit from work is here. You wanna deal with it? It’s creeping me out.”

Gavin fought the urge to emote, to act like the deviant that he was. He was trying to fit in, be a nice little android, not raise alarms. Her hatred was visceral. He remembered when he met Nines, how he’d thought that the man hated androids, how well Nines had played the part, and how slowly that had faded. He could guess that his dislike was worse than most because of Denise.

She took a step back as Nines took her place, leaning heavily in the doorway. He didn’t look like anyone that Gavin knew. His hair was ruffled and mussed, his skin pale and clammy. His blue gray eyes were darting around, half on Gavin, half on his fiancee. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt that hung in a way that revealed his jutting collar bones, the bandages and, worse, the bruises, around his throat, and revealed more bandages and bruises down his arms. One of his wrists was an angry red, wherever it wasn’t black and blue from bruising.

“What are you doing here?” Nines said, his voice grimmer, angrier, and more hollow than Gavin had ever heard it. Again, putting on a show.

Gavin put on a smile that he hoped would be read as nice and held up the folder. “The case from Monday, I believe I may have come up with some theories on it. I was hoping that I could come in and talk to you about it.”

Nines’ eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you talking like that?”

Gavin took a step forward, practically inviting himself into the apartment. Nines backed up, letting him in, though it was more on instinct than anything. “I am talking like a normal, boring ass android. Cyberlife thought it would help us be better liked. Is it working?”

Nines shook his head once. “What do you think?”

“I think, Oo! A table!” Gavin brushed his way into the apartment, setting his folder down on the table. It was clean. Everything was clean. With the way that the rest of the complex was, he was expecting the apartment itself to either be a den of depression or a mess for other reasons. He took a quick scan of the surroundings, no where near as in depth as what he’d do at a crime scene, even though he knew that this was one. There was a little bit of dust, invisible to the human eye, and two dirty dishes in the kitchen. There was a bit of broken glass embedded in the carpet, not deep enough to have been there for very long but deep enough that there had been an attempt to vacuum it up.

He opened the folder and pulled out the documents. He was glad he actually had been thinking of the case, because it was easy to talk about, even with Nines so uncomfortable at his side and Denise standing behind them, blurting out comments every once in a while. Most of them were kind in the sickening lovey-dovey way but there were some that were downright cruel, either to Nines or to Gavin. Those sat on the idea of Gavin being Nines’ replacement or that the fact that he needed help was why he wasn’t a Lieutenant yet.

“Really, Dick, you’re such a waste of police time, couldn’t your little toy do all this for you?”

Gavin threw a glare her way and she seemed more than a little bit surprised at how human he could be. Nines didn’t even respond to her, though his eyes were started to get wet and he chewed on the dried skin of his lip.

A red alert joined the objectives in Gavin’s UI: Remove Richard Anderson from the scene. That was an objective he wouldn’t fight against.

[Gavnyan 7:36pm] You got a spare room, right?

He kept talking over his theory, pretending that he wasn’t texting Connor and recording everything that Denise was saying.

[Detective Twink 7:40pm] Yeah why?

[Gavnyan 7:40pm] Big bad meatbag needs a place to sleep for the next couple forever and he’s not doing it here.

[Detective Twink 7:40pm] Nines? What’s going on?

Gavin reached out, casual, slow, and placed his hand on top of Nines’. The human immediately froze as Gavin’s fingertips rested on the horribly finger shaped bruises on his wrist.

“You keep talking about Nines getting replaced,” Gavin said, his voice far more calm and steady than he was feeling. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

“What?” Denise growled from her place.

[Gavnyan 7:41pm] I’m about to ruin this woman’s whole career.

[Detective Twink 7:41pm] What are you talking about?

Gavin stood up, ignoring all of the papers, and turned to her. “I’m done, okay? I’m sitting here, pretending everything’s fine and dandy and like I don’t want to beat your face in and that’s hard enough, but having you treat Nines like shit right in front of me? You’re seriously asking for my fist in your face right now.”

She impressed him with the way that she squared off, tossing her blonde hair and getting into an aggressive position. He hadn’t been broken down over time like Nines had, but he could imagine how after months of verbal abuse her turning physical would work.

“Please,” Nines tugged on his hand a little bit, trying to get Gavin’s attention and free himself at the same time. “It’s fine. It’s just a joke. Come on, you say stuff like that all the time.”

He had. He wasn’t going to ever again.

Gavin slid the ring off of Nines’ finger. He wanted to throw it at her like he was in some romcom, but instead he just released Nines, walked up to her, and placed the ring on the counter next to her.

“You’re never going to talk to Nines like that again. You’re never going to see him again, if I have anything to say about it.”

She laughed nervously. “Says you? You’re just a heap of plastic! You can’t pretend you hold any power here.”

He cracked his neck in both directions before wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her, swinging her so that she was under his arm. She squealed in surprised anger. She was pelting him with her fists, kicking out with her feet, but he didn’t care. He had a job to do.

Nines was following him, silent and shaking, as he carried Denise out onto the little porch and deposited her there, only to lock the sliding glass door before she could follow him back in.

“What are you doing?” Nines was frazzled, panicked. His voice was still steady, but there was no way Gavin couldn’t see how he sweat, how to quaked, how he was staring out there.

“I’m getting you out of here. Pack your things.”

Denise was screaming insults at him, at both of them. Nines was just standing there, all six foot two of him, looking absolutely tiny. He was staring out at her. “I can’t leave. She’ll kill me.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and took Nines’ hand, leading him towards the bedroom. “No she won’t. Not as long as I’m here.”

---

Nines had rather little, just some clothes and books and electronics. He packed quickly, once Gavin started to do it for him, all of it fitting in an old gym bag and two grocery bags. Denise was yelling at a neighbor by the time they were leaving, probably getting someone to get the door open for her. Gavin kept a hand on Nines all the while, keeping his attention off of Denise and on the task at hand, leading him out of the apartment and down the stairs and outside.

His jacket hid a lot of the damage but his neck was still fairly obvious. Connor paled as he saw it, as he understood everything that he’d missed. Nines didn’t want to press charges but Connor did and Gavin had what she said and a few photographs of the visible damage to indite her with.

There was nothing in the spare room aside from a closet and a bed but when Nines sat n it he just sort of slumped, all of the tension in him unfolding. He wasn’t paying attention to anything, whatever was said to him didn’t land. Gavin brought in a chair from the table and then gave him some space. He could hear Nines try not to shatter as he stood in the living room, discussing what had happened with Connor. They could stay as long as they needed to, the both of them. Gavin didn’t know what to say to that but he knew he would have demanded it if it weren’t offered.

He didn’t need to sleep. He didn’t even need to enter stasis more than once every five days. Still, he sat in the chair next to Nines’ bed, half conscious as the man slept. He could have taken the couch, he probably should have. Staying here would be creepy at the very best. He didn’t want to be that far away from Nines though, not if he was needed.

And he was. At 4:37am Nines turned onto his side, upsetting the damage to his ribs. He tightened in response, making it all worse, and then he was awake, heaving in deeps breathes. The room flickered red with Gavin’s attention, as he got up from the chair and moved to the bed, forcing Nines to lie down flat with the most gentle of touches he could muster.

He could see easily in the dark could see how blown Nines’ pupils were, the only light in the room coming from Gavin’s LED. He flinched as Gavin ran a thumb over his jaw.

“She’s right, isn’t she?” Nines’ voice was pinched. “I’m a failure. I couldn’t even get away from her. I’m that pathetic.”

Gavin adjusted their positions on the bed, helped Nines sit up. Nies should have been asleep, he was exhausted, but he was going to have time to sleep tomorrow. Connor had already agreed to call in on Nines’ behalf to get him some time off. He still looked pale, still looked uncertain, looked so little like Nines that it made Gavin uncertain of what he was doing. He knew though, that what he was doing was the right thing, possibly for the first time.

“You’re not pathetic,” he corrected, “And you’re not pathetic. Look, I’m not a nice guy, so don’t make me say this shit twice. Any experience I have gets set into my programming, changes the way that I react in the future. That’s pretty damn human, and I agree that it’s stupid to be made that way. But what I’m saying is that I get it. I was programmed a certain way and that bitch fucking, she programmed you through experiences and words.”

Nines leaned against Gavin’s shoulder, head against his neck. “I feel strange,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s too much.”

Gavin wrapped an arm around Nines’ shoulders, saying with the action that it was alright, that Nines could take his time, that they didn’t have to move from that spot. He hoped that Nines understood that too.

Nines fiddled with his finger, with the tan line from where his engagement ring had been. Gavin put his hand on Nines’ arm, stilling him for the moment. He stared forward, at the closet door. The door hadn’t done anything against him but he was still glaring at it as if it were Denise herself. Part of him wanted her to come after them, so he could show her what he was capable of to take care of his partner. And that feeling was strange too. He couldn’t place when he started to care about Nines.

“Give it time,” he advised, as if he had any experience in these things. “Give it time.”

[lizord-lord]

Locked Heart Ch. 2

(Alright, now you’ve seen how this hell started, time to continue the ride! We had both these written already and I’m impatient, so today and today only you get two chapters!! This is not a good thing!! Reblog if you enjoy pain and suffering!!) (For those of you out of the loop, this is a fic that @patton-croc-agenda and I came up with a while ago and decided to co-write. She wrote the first chapter, but this one’s mine! And yes, we are sick fucks who wax poetry about logicality and patton and then turn around and smack you with this. Welcome to authordom  > : )

Previous: Chapter 1

Next: Chapter 3

Summary: After making the mistake of letting a vampire into his home, Patton wakes up to find himself in a strange room he doesn’t recognize, and no means of escape.

Pairings: Eventual Logicality, Prinxiety

Words: 3,761

Overall Warnings: This fic will at some point contain: Assault, kidnapping, graphic depictions of death and violence, mentions of/explict sexual content (the more explicit scenes can be skipped), negative/possibly suicidal thoughts and a relationship that can possibly be interpreted as Stockholm Syndrome (though we do try and flesh the relationship out, if the idea of such a thing even slightly triggers you maybe give this one a pass). Warnings will be posted for individual chapters as well.

Chapter Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, negative thoughts, fear spiral

Cold clenched at Patton’s heart-not electric, breath-stealing panic, but thick, miasmic dread. Stifling horror.

There was nothing he could see in the darkness beyond the five or so feet illuminated by the digital clock on a nightstand beside him, and the sliver of carpet visible by the light from under the door.

A door.

Well..at least he was in a house..but what house? It must be Logan’s, right? The vampire had brought him to his house to-to-

To what? Patton bit his lip, suddenly feeling the need to tug the blanket tighter over his suddenly very exposed-feeling shoulders. Why was he here? Did the vampire want to keep him so he could use him as food until he grew bored? No..brushing fingers over his neck, he found neither side was marked. Then again..he’d been very curious about-about whatever Patton had done last-last night? Earlier? He didn’t know. Was he here to be studied? Tortured? No-no don’t think like that. Halting the train of thought did not however halt the shiver that went up his spine.

Okay. He didn’t know where he was, why he was here, or even if he was alone, but curling in on himself in the dark and panicking was surely useless..he had to do something. Doing something always helped with fear.

Patton turned towards the nightstand first and squinted. The clock on it glared back at him with red numbers reading 11:37am. So he had been out all night.  He could at least be thankful to get some extra sleep, his late bedtime often led to groggy mornings..but that was all the good he could see in his current situation.

And this ‘situation’ was only getting worse.

For when Patton slowly, carefully slid off the bed - apparently the vampire had had the courtesy to remove his shoes at least, along with his jacket and glasses. The jacket he didn’t bother with, but he fumbled on the barely-lit nightstand for a moment to find his glasses and place them on his nose. Well. Now the pitch-blackness was presumably clearer. Not that he could tell, as it was pitch-blackness.

A light switch would be a good next step. Taking a small breath, Patton padded to the thin strip of light under the door and placed his hands on the wall, groping in the dark and running his fingers over the smooth, likely wood wall to find-there.

He flicked on the light-and winced, his headache flaring up at the sudden brightness and forcing his eyes shut, purple and blue blotches dancing over his eyelids. More carefully this time, he opened his eyes, a bit at a time.

The room was..furnished, and yet still barren. Like a hotel room-or more likely a guest room. His shoes were by the foot of the queen-sized bed he’d woken up in, jacket neatly folded on the nightstand. Across from the bed was a dresser, bare of any baubles or decorations but also free of dust. There was a large bookshelf shoved into the far left corner, with a leather armchair next to it.

No windows. The light he’d turned on was a simple yet elegant chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling-which was the same dark wood as the wall he was currently pressing his palms against. Overall it was..too big. Too dark. He found no character in the room-the closest thing was the carpet, which unlike the flat color of most everything else, was at least a striped pattern of cream and wine red.

Patton turned around, back to the door-but as he reached for the handle and turned it, it refused to go all the way.

Locked.

The cold already swirling in his bones locked tight around his heart once more-to be completely honest he wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean he could be calm about this! Patton tugged on the handle again, until he heard a thud or three from his manhandling of it, but he didn’t care.

He was trapped. And there was no window, no other way out..what was going to happen to him? He felt tears pricking at his eyes, hot in contrast to the ice shooting through his muscles and making his hands shake.

Even as he glanced frantically around the room for anything he could use to pick the mocking, cruel lock in front of him, he knew it was a lost cause regardless. He didn’t know how to pick a lock. His hands were still trembling as he pulled them away from the door, color returning to his knuckles (had he really been gripping the knob that hard?) as he stood still and alone in the room..as unfeeling as the one who had put him here, as indifferent to the terrified tears streaming down his round cheeks.

Patton sunk to his knees, his back pressed against the cold wood of the door, eyes still wide and wet as he curled into the fetal position, staring blankly at the wall. The wall he only wished had a window. To escape, to know where he was, to see the sun…

Most people Patton met considered him a ‘human ray of sunshine’. He tried his best to think positively, to see the best in situations, to not get unhappy emotions overtake him or even affect them.

But even optimists had their limits. And the closest thing he could grasp to a silver lining in this was..well, that he wasn’t dead. That was a rather low bar.

Okay, it was a very low bar. Maybe..well, Logan had been nice enough to put him in a nice room and make sure he was comfortable? That was a good thing? It didn’t make Patton feel much better. Neither did the hot tears or the panic gripping his heart.

He didn't even last five minutes with his roiling thoughts, The tears came faster, thicker, and soon his glasses were foggy and wet as he sobbed into his knees.

It lasted...well he didn’t know. Felt like hours, but it likely was only about half of one. It lasted until he ran out of tears, that was the only proper measurement.

Even as his sobs faded to faint hiccups, Patton didn’t lift his head. He felt miserable, like curling into an even tinier ball and disappearing. What was going to happen to him? The thought that kept plaguing his mind, and he still had no answer. Suppose he’d have to wait and find out..in the meantime, Patton took a deep, shuddering breath, and picked himself up off the floor. He didn’t really feel better. But he felt better. At least a good cry could numb the fear. Not that it fixed anything-but he couldn’t succumb to dread. He was better than that. Patton pulled his glasses off and leaned on the door for support as he rubbed them hard with the hem of his blue polo, then wiped away the tears lingering on his puffy eyes with just as much vigor. Once they were back on, he moved back towards the bed.     He checked the clock. 12:06.

Thinking..thinking about what would happen felt like a terrible idea. Patton disliked wallowing in despair. He bit his lip hard-and squashed down the fear fluttering in his chest like a nasty bug.     What would come..would come. Unless he escaped, he could do nothing. Fearing it would only hurt him.

He let out a shaky breath, then moved towards the bookshelf. Might as well get something to pass the time, right?

The bookshelf was full. As in full. As in some books barely even fit full. Most of the ones he saw were nonfiction-history, astronomy, and what looked like a couple math textbooks, but there was some fiction from what he could see. Mostly mysteries and what looked to be fantasy, but there was also a book of fairytales that looked..pretty out of place in what he could only call an intellectual’s collection.

Well, he’d have to thank whoever put it there..Patton didn’t think he'd read through the classics in a while, but not like he had anything better do do now-no, bury the thought.

He reached out and, with some difficulty due to the size of the book, pulled it from its shelf. It was much heavier than expected, but he that’d mean it would last him some time. However much he needed..

Patton brought the book from the shelf to the armchair, noting the softness of the leather upholstery as he sunk into it and placed the book on his lap, and opened it up to page one. The Princess and the Pea stared back at him, in that curly, squared lettering that so many fairytales started off with (absentmindedly, he wondered why that was the thing to do) and he leaned back a bit more in the chair. Blue eyes flickered up one last time to the door, and then fell back to the pages.

1:30

2:46

3:19

4:28

5:11

6:53

7:20

8:04

The hours ticked by. Patton had grown restless and hungry quickly, putting away the book of fairytales in favor of searching the drawers as a distraction. All he found was spare clothes,a tissue box, a couple empty notebooks, three pencils, a ball of lint, some loose beads, and at one point a spider- which had caused him to spend the half hour between three and three-thirty on the other side of the room pressed against the wall, until he talked himself up enough to dash across the room and smack the little demon with the tissue box.

That had not been fun.

He’d gone back to the book after that, and finished it not long after-although he’d shifted positions both on the chair and in the room more times than he could count in the process, wishing he’d at least been given a glass of water, and though Patton really didn’t feel like reading more, it wasn’t like he had much else to do but worry and mope. Curse his short attention span.

But, at 8:09 pm, he heard a noise.

Footsteps. The sound of shoes clicking against a wooden floor-and Patton’s breath caught. This was it. Whatever was about to happen next, whatever he’d been brought here for..well, he had about five seconds to prepare himself. The footsteps stopped. He heard the rattling of a key being inserted into a lock, the click of it being turned-and then saw and heard the door swing open.

Unsurprisingly, Logan stood in the doorway. He looked much more put together than last night, hair neatly slicked back, a tie around his neck, and glasses straight on his nose. More pressingly however, his eyes were dark brown and not the chilling crimson of the night before. He looked normal. Stiff, but normal, and that only further prompted Patton further to press himself back into the pillows on his bed and clutch the book he’d been reading to his chest protectively. He was not about to let a pretty face play with his empathy again.

“Ah, I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Logan’s voice was casual and unconcerned as he turned to close (and to Patton’s dismay, lock) the door again, slipping the key in his left pocket. “That is preferable, we do have a lot to discuss and wasting time is never the best option."

…..Discuss? Well that was good right? It meant he wasn’t going to immediately harm him..Patton bit down on his lip, watching closely as the vampire moved to sit down on the leather chair he’d been occupying earlier. There was silence.

“Why am I here??” Patton suddenly burst out, jerking the book in his hands like he wanted to throw them into the air. His breath hitched soon after-what if that was a bad idea, what if that got him in trouble, but Logan did not seem to react. He shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, lacing his fingers together.

“Well, you are a ‘human’-who possesses magical abilities. And frankly, that is impossible. No pure human would be able to possess supernatural talents, at least not without knowing it, they’d have to have been cursed or enchanted or sold their soul  to some other entity. So either you were lying about being unaware of your abilities, lying about your species, or have something about you even you do not know..” Patton swallowed. He had a feeling his next words needed to be chosen wisely.

“I-I wasn’t lying. I haven’t sold my soul or anything and I mean as far as I know I’m not cursed, I’m just a cook! A very human one too! I mean-I guess I thought I was..”

Thankfully, Logan seemed to accept that as an answer. He nodded slowly, but didn’t respond, like he was considering something. There was another few minutes of tense silence (at least on Patton’s part) before he spoke again.

“Well, then the best option to see what you are would be to see what you can do. Show me.”

“Show you?” Patton’s eyes widened in surprise, “You mean-so something like that light? Now?” The vampire nodded. “But I can’t! I mean I don’t know how..like you said, I wasn’t aware I could do anything like this. I wouldn’t even know where to start!” “Well then you’ll have to figure it out,” Logan replied simply, “Magic can be activated in certain ways-there are a few basic ones, though they do vary. It does so from person to person, unfortunately the supernatural is not an exact science.”

A hint of annoyance had seeped into his otherwise businesslike tone, but he continued anyway. “Get up and try.”

Patton bit his lip. But he laid down his book on the bed and stood up anyway, now facing the chair where the vampire sat.

What was he supposed to do? Last time he’d just...been scared, and said he wouldn’t die..

He found himself worrying at his lip, feeling small under the scrutiny. Should he try something like that again? Maybe? “I-I won’t die?”

He pushed his hands out in front of him as an extra measure-but nothing happened. Of course nothing happened. Patton was just standing there, in the middle of the room, saying words with no reason or heart, holding his hands out, with an incredibly unimpressed vampire staring at him.

God he sounded stupid. Patton’s cheeks went hot with embarrassment, dropping his hands as a means to hug himself instead, mumbling an apology to Logan. “I- I’m sorry..that-um, that was a dumb idea I just don’t-don’t know what to do..” god he was stupid.

Logan’s gaze flicked him up and down, and he nearly winced. Was there going to be a punishment for fail-no, don’t think like that!!

“I’ll try aga-” he began, but before he even got the third syllable out of his mouth, there were hands twisting in the fabric of his blue polo and his back was painfully slammed against a dark wood wall. Red eyes were back in his face, fierce and glowing and predatory. Naturally, Patton screamed. His heart must have leapt out of his mouth because the same fear from last night was back and he tried to squirm, to scramble away, but those eyes met his and suddenly his muscles went slack. Trying to move them felt impossible, like his brain no longer controlled them, all he could do was twitch. Was this his punishment? He’d be drained if he couldn’t do what the vampire wanted? Or just hurt? Or even killed?

“P-please..” he stuttered out, thank god at least his mouth still worked, “Please I-I can try-I can try, just please don’t-”

But as soon as he was grabbed, he was dropped. Patton hit the floor with a grunt of pain, his limp body crumpling under him-and then his strength returned. Looking up, eyes still wide with fear, he saw Logan was back to brown-eyed-business-as-usual. As if nothing had even happened!! He didn’t know whether to be grateful he wasn’t hurt (well okay there might be a bruise on his shoulder and knee, but he could deal with that) or angry that he’d just-just been grabbed and shoved up against the wall! He probably looked a bit of both, but Logan didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he just looked mildly disappointed.

Patton remained there on the floor as the vampire mumbled something too quiet to hear, waving a hand in some gesture as he moved back to the chair. When a minute passed and he didn’t move, Patton slowly got to his feet, frowning. “What was that for?” “Well, you seemed to have an idea that recreating last night’s events would activate your magic. Your approach didn’t work, clearly, so I thought I’d try it out for myself.” Patton stood, stunned at how casual Logan’s tone was. Like he’d just tapped him on the shoulder instead of slammed him into the wall and scared him out of his skin. “So-so you attacked me??” “That is what I did last night, so yes. This time however I had no intention of actually harming you.” Well-well that was good, but...but...how was he being so casual about this? You don’t just attack someone! Even if you are testing a theory! Patton wanted to protest, but he opened his mouth and nothing came out. He just...how was he supposed to explain you don’t just slam people into walls??? The vampire however, did not seem to notice his horror.

“But, it seems that putting you in a position of distress does not trigger anything..that’s a shame. We’ll have to try a different approach.”

“.....what approach?” Patton asked, voice hesitant as he slowly got to his feet. His mouth was dry. Not just from thirst. If that was the starting point, what could come after?

Logan just sighed. “Unfortunately I do not know at the moment. I have no firsthand experience with spellcasting, so I’d have to do some research..”

Patton had just opened his mouth to ask another question when his stomach gurgled loudly. He immediately ducked his head, embarrassed-but the vampire’s reaction was far from what he expected.

“Ohh...shit.”

Patton glanced back up, surprised-even more so as he noted Logan’s grimace. “My apologies, I haven’t brought you food or drink this whole time...I should have alerted Virgil so he could do it-” he stood up from the chair, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “I will be right back with bre-dinner, with dinner.” “Can’t I come down?” Patton burst out, but all the hope in his voice was crushed at the next words. “No, you’re to stay in this room for now. I’ll show you to the bathroom when needed of course-but there is no need for you to come down to the kitchen.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping out and closing it behind him as Patton’s shoulders slumped. The click of the lock echoed in his mind.

Well..at least it didn’t seem like he was going to be treated cruelly..though the fact that he had yet to see Logan’s temper still hung heavy on his mind. Though the name he’d mentioned flashed through Patton’s mind again, who was Virgil?

Thirty minutes later, Logan opened the door again and handed Patton a tray. There was a bowl of beef stew on it, along with some bread and two large glasses of water. He scarfed it down eagerly-probably narrowly avoiding hiccups in the process, but wow he had needed that so bad, so bad. When the soup was gone, he gulped down one glass of water, but placed the other on his nightstand. He’d probably be needing it. “...thank you,” he murmured quietly, but there wasn’t much gratitude in his tone. If Logan noticed, he didn’t show it, only taking the empty tray from Patton’s hands and placing it on the nightstand. He didn’t sit down or leave, just standing there until Patton looked up.

“I assumed you might need to use the restroom?” Oh. Come to think of it, he really did.

With a sigh, he nodded and stood up, following as Logan made his way to the door and unlocked it. Would he have a chance to run? Probably not, he didn’t know the layout of the house and judging by the speed at which Logan had slammed him into the wall, he would never make it. So he took a breath-instead trying to employ his typical optimism. He’d get to see a little more of the house, maybe find out where it was located? That turned out a false assumption. The bathroom was right down the hall, and from what he saw there-there were no windows. On his way, all he spotted was a few more doors breaking up the dark wood walls before Logan opened one that led to the bathroom and he stepped inside.

The bathroom was unremarkable. White walls-the first wall he’d seen that wasn’t made of wood though, a large shower, and of course the toilet. Though, after using it and going to the sink to wash his hands, he did notice something personal. A makeup case, white with gold lining, leaning against the left wall, a pot that looked to be some sort of hair product, a comb likely tossed carelessly onto the counter, and a brush. That last item was what confirmed his suspicion that this was not the bathroom Logan used-as the hair caught between the bristles (wow that was a gross thing to have to observe, but he didn’t mind for the sake of figuring out a little more about his situation) was not dark chocolate in color, but a tawny brown just a bit darker than his own curls. Maybe it belonged to this Virgil?

Unable to find much more in the bathroom besides a random thing of black eyeshadow, Patton exited the bathroom. Logan was waiting outside to lead him back to his..room. There was a long moment of hesitation as he stood in the doorway, but he didn’t really have another option. At least the room was comfortable. He made his way to the bed, sitting down on it and halfheartedly watching Logan retrieve the tray and take it outside. The door closed and locked behind him, leaving Patton once again a prisoner to these walls and his own thoughts.

Tags: @why-things-go-boom @altruistic-skittles @phantomofthesanderssides @soft-transboy @justanormalfoot @residentanchor @non-binaryemo @phlying-squirrel @shy-writing-life-of-hell @lucifer-in-my-head @forsakethegodsbeforetheydoyou

[hellyeahrpmemes]

※ BOOTS RILEY’S SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (2018) ※

starters from boots riley’s 2018 film sorry to bother you ! feel free to change names/pronouns/etc.!

“What’s that trophy in the bag there?”

“I’m a salesman at heart.”

“That is intriguing…”

“You, Mr. Green, you never fucking worked there.”

“I didn’t know he applied here, too…”

“It might’ve been helpful if his outgoing messages didn’t say ‘it’s Sal, bitches’.”

“I made them. I had them made.”

“Listen, I just really, really need a job.”

“I don’t care if you have experience for this.”

“I’ll hire damn near anyone.”

“You have initiative, and you can read.”

“You will show up tomorrow happy.”

“Stick to the script.”

“You ever think about dying?”

“What will I have done that matters?”

“I just want to make sure that, when I die, I’ll be surrounded by people who love me, and who I love back.”

“At some point, we’re gonna die. Our kids are gonna die, our kids’ kids are gonna die.”

“At some point, no one on earth will have existed.”

“At some point, the sun will explode and everyone will die.”

“What I’m doing right now won’t even matter.”

“Baby, baby, it will always matter, okay?”

“When I kiss you, it’s not for posterity’s sake.”

“You got your calling. Your art means something, right?”

“I’m just out here surviving.”

“You missed your cue.”

“Get a room!”

“I’ve got a room, motherfucker!”

“I thought you said you fixed that!”

“I’ve gotta move.”

“Don’t you start work today?”

“They said they’d hire anybody, if you’re looking for a second job.”

“Baby, how much are they paying you?”

“You’re guaranteed employment and housing for life!”

“I just got a new job, and I’ll have some money for you soon.”

“God made this land for all of us, and greedy people like you want to hog it for yourself and your family and charge all the rest of us for the right to live.”

“I need my money in two weeks, asshole.”

“You studied the script?”

“Don’t be lazy, and I won’t have to be an asshole.”

“They even have their own elevator.”

“This is Cassius Green, sorry to bother you…”

“I wanted to call and help you out.”

“Really? You’re gonna stuff all those french fries in your mouth?”

“I feel incompetent and like an asshole doing this job.”

“Hey, that’s that dude from that show…!”

“That’s fucking cool. I hate that show.”

“What the hell is a place like this doing with a VIP room.”

“You need the password. This week, it’s “upscale elegance”. Actually, every week, it’s “upscale elegance”.”

“People say I talk with a white voice anyways.”

“I’m not talking about Will Smith white. That ain’t white. That’s just proper.”

“It’s like, sounding like you don’t have a care. You’ve got your bills paid, you’re happy about your future, and you’re about ready to jump in your Ferrari out there when you get off this call.”

“You’ve never been fired. Only laid off.”

“It’s what they wish they sounded like.”

“I didn’t catch you at the wrong time, did I?”

“I feel like these metaphors have not been cleared for this pep rally.”

“I’m new. So forgive me for not knowing everyone’s name yet.”

“That stops here. That stops right now.”

“I lean on you. You lean on me. There’s a synergy.”

“You can feel that energy. I know you can.”

“People are starting to get emotional, and I love that.”

“Does that mean we get paid more?”

“I don’t want to scare you, but it’s a new world.”

“You’re not missing out, it tastes like shit.”

“I just think it’s kinda silly that we have to be all… excited.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“We could really use your energy to jump things off.”

“Obviously, we can’t talk here.”

“Okay, Mr. Embarrassing Intro Guy.”

“Why do you always talk about what I did in high school?”

“Can we please not talk about the sun exploding tonight?”

“At the end of the day, I just don’t wanna be stuck in this position.”

“We’re transforming life itself.”

“It’s all highlighted in my book; I lay out the whole thing.”

“You’re kind of black. You’re Lionel Richie black.”

“It doesn’t even fucking matter, because pasta’s from Italy.”

“Italians aren’t white.”

“I guess I’m a natural at it.”

“I’ve never seen that shit before.”

“If you twirl that sign really well, maybe you can twirl a larger sign on a more glamorous corner.”

“I’m saying what we need… we need a union.”

“No, don’t… don’t do that. We’ll figure something out.”

“It’s fuck time, you know what I mean?”

“I should probably get back to work, man…”

“They’re talking about you…”

“He told me the exact same shit three months ago.”

“What kind of world is it when this is the most popular show in America?”

“They make a shit ton of money, man.”

“I’ve been telling everybody how you’ve been kicking all types of ass at work.”

“I was hoping you’d pop up earlier, I thought you’d come by.”

“That’s what I said, but don’t listen to what I say.”

“Those are nice earrings.”

“This is all of us, ride or die.”

“Today is a warning shot, telling them we stand united.”

“Fuck you, pay me.”

“We fight because we make the profits, and they don’t share.”

“I brought all types of weapons…!”

“It’s, like, serious, but not that serious.”

“We will not be overlooked!”

“Pack your shit and get out.”

“You’re starting to sound a little paranoid here.”

“This is your moment. Don’t waste it.”

“Wow, you really are ready, aren’t you?”

“I would be remiss if I didn’t bring up your pink shirt. I think it’s extraordinary. And sexy.”

“Today is your day to dominate the world.”

“They make anything and they make everything.”

“What I’m saying is I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—”

“We need you in the mix right away.”

“Hey baby, what’s your sign?”

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“Is that what you do? You just go from place to place stirring up trouble?”

“I’m not gonna show you my stuff.”

“Your fire is rubbing off on him.”

“You look like you’re done here, if you need a ride.”

“I was gonna talk to you about it earlier, but I didn’t know if it would be a for sure thing or not.”

“Does that mean you can pay me back my $80?”

“I wanted to talk about how beauty, love, and laughter thrive and flourish under almost any circumstances.”

“Capitalism started by stealing labor from Africans.”

“You’re nodding like you’re listening, but you’re not.”

“I’m done talking. I just want to marinate in this.”

“My success has nothing to do with you, alright?”

“I hope you have a good day.”

“I hope your month is full of successful days and a lot of great ventures.”

“I hope your whole fucking year is spectacular.”

“You smell great. What is that?”

“You are an awesome man, and I appreciate you.”

“I hope you did not masturbate today. We need you sharp and ready to go.”

“Hold my penis while I piss on your underestimated expectations.”

“I wish I had hands to caress your muscular brain.”

“Swimming through a vat of hyena urine is not as bad as it sounds.”

“We want enough money to pay our rent!”

“We want enough money to not eat Cup O’ Noodles every night!”

“Can we not. Please.”

“You abandoned your friends.”

“What are you asking me to do?”

“You side-step more than the fucking Temptations.”

“I’m doing something I’m really fucking good at.”

“You don’t even need all those covers, it’s not necessary.”

“The old you was way more interesting.”

“This motherfucker right here is on fire.”

“Douse our winner in champagne!”

“Have a cola and smile, bitch!”

“You are the best decision I’ve made in quite a long time.”

“Do you like to party?”

“I’ve been waiting years for this invite.”

“I just gotta do this other thing.”

“This is the kind of party that could change your life.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, you know?”

“What happened to your head?”

“I have to go get ready for my performance. You should really stay and see it.”

“You always know just what to say, huh?”

“You could really help us out right now.”

“Don’t be the leaf that floats down the river. Be the stone that splits the stream.”

“Tonight, we will have a transformative experience.”

“Why would you subject yourself to this?”

“Don’t you have a party to get to, Cash?”

“I guess you’re all wondering why I called this meeting.”

“I think a lot of these bitches are going to be getting naked later.”

“Your parties are the stuff of folklore.”

“It’s okay. He’s friendly. He’s friendly.”

“Just don’t call me Mister.”

“I’m fucking kidding with you, man!”

“It’s people like you that are going to save this nation.”

“We need people like you. People that can be trusted. People that can analyze the challenge and adapt. Like a cunning raccoon. Like a snake. Like a tardigrade!”

“I told you you didn’t have to do that…!”

“I’m talking to the man of the hour, here.”

“I don’t have any cool stories, sorry.”

“I can listen to rap, I just can’t rap.”

“Go through that big-ass foyer, go through the door next to the stairs, go down the other stairs, hang a left. Go to the end of the hallway, then make a right. You’ll see it. Big magenta colored-door at the end of the hall.”

“Why don’t cry about the shit that should be.”

“Don’t do that thing. That thing where you fuck it up.”

“This place is fucking nuts, man.”

“Thank you. I will accept your backhanded compliment.”

“How’s your head? You alright?”

“You know what? That’s very interesting. Boring, though.”

“Could we, like, watch this after I go to the bathroom?”

“Can you help me?”

“That’s an olive door. That’s very clearly an olive door.”

“This is a big misunderstanding, okay? Let’s just take a deep breath and calm down.”

“I can’t let you leave without explaining everything, alright?”

“There’s a lot of production value in this.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was crazy. That I was doing this for no reason. Because this isn’t irrational.”

“Call me about that next week, please, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Sit in that chair, and we’re gonna watch this movie.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that about the anymore. I don’t give a fuck about that shit.”

“I need you to be a little bit more particular, man.”

“They got fucking horses in Peru, probably.”

“You’re gonna get semantic on me?”

“The reason you’re not high is because your adrenaline is pumping so hard right now, that, to be perfectly honest, you’re starting to harsh both of our mellows.”

“Sit down and just take a breath, man. It’s fucking adrenaline.”

“That’s why we need someone on the inside.”

“Why the fuck did you choose me?”

“You. Are. Awesome.”

“I can see that you’re freaked out, and that you want to say no, but I wouldn’t do that before you see what I’m offering.”

“There’s no fucking amount of money that will make me do that shit.”

“It sounds like you made that shit up, man.”

“Just go sleep on it, okay?”

“Get out in that party and go fuck something.”

“I have some important information. Some very, very important information that I think you would be really, really interested in.”

“You’ve got to get this story out here.”

“Where the fuck is my cell phone?”

“I’m glad you’re feeling yourself.”

“Is that why you tried to booty call me last night?”

“You called me at 3:23. You left a video message. I didn’t check it because I assumed it was lewd as fuck and I wasn’t trying to do that…”

“That’s a good decision, but I still have problems with all of this.”

“That doesn’t change what I said about us.”

“I kind of messed around with somebody last night.”

“I need you to explain that one, because I don’t understand what you mean by you kind of messed around with somebody.”

“That’s almost worse than anything I can imagine in my mind.”

“It’s me and you that shouldn’t have messed around tonight.”

“You wanna know who it was?”

“I have absolutely no idea what this is about.”

“Maybe the artist is being literal.”

“I want the world to know that they’re manipulating humanity for the sake of profit.”

“You have to call your congressman.”

“We are all sinners, but in every sinner lies a winner.”

“I know it’s not going to change anything, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“All you’ve got to do is just do right from now.”

“I tried to change it, I tried to stop it…”

“If you get shown a problem but have no idea how to control it, you just decide to get used to the problem.”

“Our plan for tomorrow is important.”

“Tomorrow, we show ‘em how to give fucks.”

“What the fuck is that about? What the fuck, man?”

“Same struggle. Same fight.”

“This good. This is perfect. This is the perfect apology.”

“You have to start fighting somewhere.”

“So, what about being a part of something important?”

“Shit, looks like the sun is about to explode…”

“I couldn’t come back to the exact same thing after all of that, right?”

“Sorry to bother you.”

[smallestchances]

The Beast of the Ball

Ivar’s Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Ivar and the reader attend the annual Viking ball, but the reader has a less than ideal time

Warnings: Implications of Sex, cursing, humiliation, Ivar being a dick

Ask to be tagged/any questions about what happened in this AU >>>HERE<<<

To no surprise, the Annual Viking Ball was nothing short of exquisite.

Every person that considered themselves of mob blood---Italian, Greek, American, Brazilian---showed up to as a display of good faith and temporary peace.

But less was it a neutral night for the mafias, and more was it a spectacle of wealth and power. Nothing was dared to be spared for such an event. Once the invitations were handed out---almost immediately after the ball the year before was over--- ballgowns of magnificent designs were requested and tuxedos of only the finest materials were considered for wear. The Viking Ball was known for the show, for the controlled chaos of cultures that would no doubt be present.

Despite it’s elegant appearance, the ball itself was just as cutthroat as the name suggested. Despite it being a neutral night, threats were slipped into withering looks, whispers of what was to come would be passed to another’s ear, and slight blood would splatter before anyone could blink an eye.

Yes, the Viking Ball was both exceedingly beautiful and terrifyingly deadly as one would expect.

Which was why you couldn’t wait to go.

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

You believed it would be years before you could ever attend another Viking Ball.

Fuck, you thought you’d actually die before you’d see another Lothbrok again.

But here you were.

“Stand up straight.”

The stern voice of Ivar blinked you away from your thoughts, and your eyes lazily met his. The intensity of his gaze burned at you in a way it always did, but at the same time it was like something you had never felt before. He was slightly hunched over on his crutches, his black tux molding to his body like a second skin. The dips and creases of his biceps and shoulders made you unconsciously lick your lips, and for a split second you thought you saw Ivar follow the movement with his eyes.

You felt perspiration build up in your armpits as well as the back of your neck as his gaze seemed to get sharper. For a few moments, there is only silence between you two, smoldering within the air before you dropped your gaze to smooth out the ballgown that adorned your body.

As usual, it was red---Ivar’s favorite color on you. It accentuated your chest, the slightly sheer material teasing the curves of your breasts, the velvet wrap included with the dress pressing them together in a seductive display. The measurements were perfect, and the skirt started right above your belly button. It fanned out delicately, the embellishments striking but not over exaggerated---it was everything you wanted in a dress.

A lump caught in your throat, and you cleared it violently to make it disappear. The details and care put into this dress contradicted how Ivar said he felt about you---because it is obvious that he remembered the specifics.

You grasped the sides of the skirt, staring down at it in both anxiety and awe. “How do I---do I look okay?”

Ivar didn’t answer you. Instead, he entered the room carefully, the dull thuds of his crutches beating in time with your heart. As he got closer, the necessity to breathe became harder to fulfill, because for the first time in a long time, Ivar was coming closer to you, Ivar was going to touch you---

He stopped close before you. Close enough that you could feel his breathing, and reach out and touch him if you had the guts. The distance he chose was calculated, and you were again made aware of that everything Ivar did had a purpose. He wanted you to feel his body heat, he wanted you to smell his cologne, to see the details of his eyes---he was feeding your desire to feel him as you once did before.

But Ivar was just as cruel as he was calculating. For he did not touch you, nor make an effort to. He looked you up and down, his eyes never lingering like they used to---like you wish they still did.

“This will do,” he commented, and your stomach plummeted. “If you are lucky, you will not be outdone at the Ball. My taste with yours has always been unmatched, tonight should not bear different results.”

His words lifted your spirits slightly, and you breathed out when he stepped away and walked to the door.

“Ivar, wait, I--!” You called after him, trying to find the words. “The bracelet, you have not given---”

Before you could finish the sentence the door was slammed, and you flinched at the sound.

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

Ivar was right. Unsurprisingly.

When you walked into the Viking Ball on Ivar’s arm, all heads immediately turned to you. Whispers already fled the audience’s mouths, and your lips upturned slightly. Out of habit you looked up to Ivar (despite his accident he still towered over you), but you were disappointed to see that you were the furthest thing from his mind.

You both made your way to the uplifted dias in the front of the ballroom---in true Viking style, there was an honorary table set for only the most elite. Ivar’s brothers already sat with their partners at the table.

Bjorn and his partner were difficult, as usual---that seemed not to have changed. She was paying avid attention to the mobster that came up to talk to her, while Bjorn’s eyes never strayed from her form. It was tragic honestly,...their relationship. Two people so very much in love but have stabbed each other in the back too many times for the trust they once had to be rebuilded.

Next them, Hvitserk and his bride were...disgusting as usual. His hands never left her, and it seemed as if they’d both die if they didn’t have skin-to-skin contact. They hadn’t been together for a long time, from what you heard. It was a large opinion that they would split soon, but you knew better. The spark they had for each other had yet to fade, but that is because it never would. It was in the way they looked at each other---not in lust, but in adoration and devotion. It was in the way they touched each other---not in fleeting, hard grasps, but in long, soft caresses.

Tears formed in your eyes and a slight bitter taste settled in your mouth watching them, so you moved onto to Ubbe and his wife. They seemed to have the most mature relationship, the type that kept up proper appearances. Slight PDA, but not too much. The picture perfect couple---and despite being anything but, they were a team that had become unbreakable throughout the years of their unconventional love.

Sliding your eyes over one more time, you balked at the empty seat next to Ubbe and his wife. There was only one.

Wanting to stop, Ivar’s pace prevented you from doing so. Once you arrived, Ivar sat down without a care that there was no seat for you. Your throat constricted and it felt like your heart stopped beating. You knew what he was doing. He was going to humiliate you---

Despite you knowing his plan of action, you stood dumbly by Ivar’s side as he surveyed the room. Ubbe saw you and a frown crossed his face, a heavy sigh passing his lips.

“Ivar, are you not forgetting something?”

The youngest Ragnarsson gave him a fake look of confusion. “What are you talking about Ubbe? This table is for the most important of them all, is it not? I am exactly where I need to be.”

“Ivar--” You tried to squeeze out, but as soon as his gaze turned on you, it stopped your words.

His eyebrows raised in surprise before he laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry (Y/N)! Did you actually believe you were important enough to sit up here with me?”

“Ivar,” Ubbe’s wife warned, and your eyes fluttered closed. You heard the chattering of the people standing closest to you stop, and you knew they were watching.

“Did you really think I wanted you back up here by my side?” He snarled lowly, his eyes narrowing. “That you deserved to be treated more than the gum at the bottom of my shoe---”

“Ivar,” Ubbe snapped, and you turned away and stepped off the dias before you could hear whatever he had to say.

How could you be so foolish? To think that you could walk back in and reclaim whatever had been lost was a stupid ambition, and now your heart was bleeding at the hands of the man you loved.

Trying to go outside as fast as possible, you stumbled when a hand shot out and stopped your escape. Whirling in surprise, you were met with the mischievous eyes of King Harald---a man who had his eyes on you for quite some time.

“And where is the belle of the ball going?” He inquired, his teeth flashing in his alarming smile. It quickly dropped as he saw the tear buildup in your eyes that had started to fall. “Now who has made my Princess cry?”

“Not now Harald,” you snapped, trying to pull away before he brought you back.

“Shhh,” he cooed, bringing you into his arms where you rested your head against his chest. You allowed it, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you tried to get your emotions back on point. After a few moments of just comfortable silence, you pulled away and he wiped your tears softly.

“Leave with me,” he said suddenly, and you froze before shaking your head.

“I can’t---”

“Yes you can,” he reassured. “I hate this event and you look like you need to get as far away as possible. So leave with me.”

Once again hesitating, you turned your eyes back towards the front of the excellently dressed crowd where the Lothbroks sat. Ubbe and his wife were nowhere to be seen, and Ivar seemed to have a very interesting escort straddling his lap. Fire crept up into your veins as you saw him looking straight at you, encouraging the woman whose lips were attached firmly to his clenched jaw.

“Alright,” you said without another beat. You swallowed, looking Harold dead in the eye. “Take me wherever you want, far away from here.”

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 1 aka “Stranger Danger”

I’m rereading The Property of Hate by @modmad and overanalyzing it to hell and back because i can’t stop thinking about the story and getting madder and madder about the PUNS I keep finding. I’m scratching the itch and trying to find All The Details. Current plan is just to go chapter by chapter, feel free to chime in with stuff I miss! There’ll be a masterpost up soon linking everything in one spot

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally. Masterpost

Okay, so just a million things right off the bat on page fucking one

‘The Hook’ is of course a term for the beginning of a story. Grabbing one’s attention and convincing them to go off on an adventure, so to speak

Speechboxes! Everybody’s got their own distinctive ‘way of speaking’ in this story. RGB’s are rectangular, but those straight edges are offset by these really loopy, meandering, and elegant speech tails. It’s just. Such immediate characterization.

Like, even the pose. The way RGB introduces himself by crouching on her drawers like an incredibly dapper gremlin. It creates a similar contrast to his speechbubbles- prim and proper existing simultaneously with fae and kinda ridiculous

So considering we’ve got a fairly detailed picture of roses up on Hero’s wall on the comics opening page I think we can assume this is some type of Important maybe. Just off the top of my head, isn’t the rose Englands national flower? IDK how relevant that is outside of RGB being incredibly, incredibly British

Oh god damnit I just scrolled down to go to the next page and fffFFFUCKING BLUE ROSES ON THE BUTTONS okay. Blue rose symbolism! They don’t exist naturally. You won’t just find one in the wild outdoors, so they represent the impossible, the mysterious and achievable.

Seeing blue roses right off the bat = important story theme probably. Impossible dreams are my first thought. RGB’s seemingly hopeless plan to save a world everyone else has given up to be doomed. Hero’s wish to go the fuck back home please after she’s had her fill of deadly adventure. RGB and Hero are setting out to achieve the impossible, defeat Her, and save the World of Make Believe

Last point for the first page; RGB’s drool. Except it’s not drool, we later learn it’s equivalent to blood, and he bleeds emotions he’s feeling. While recruiting Hero, RGB’s prominent feelings are, unsurprisingly in hindsight, a fair load of sadness but tinged with a dose of cheer. His last Hero failed, and every single one before that, but he’s still daring to have hope, the absolute madman. What he’s actually dripping most though is what looks like curiosity- it may be mixed with a bit of anger, which I wouldn’t begrudge the guy. Angry that he has to start over, again, angry that his world is dying, angry that he’d the only one doing anything about it

Ok but imagine you woke up to find a man crouched on your bedside table smiling this super-wide “TRUST ME!! :)” smile and blood dribbling out of it and welling up between the teeth. Like, I’m laughing, but I’d be screaming

OKAY BUT FINALLY WE’RE PAST THE FIRST PAGE. We get a clear look at Hero’s drawings taped to the wall, and check it- one kinda looks like the Idea they run into a few chapters ahead. The other picture might also be showing the House of Paint? I mean, there’s a sun there so that’s off, but the clouds and steps leading up to Madras’ door look right

And now we get Hero’s speechboxes! They’re circular in contrast to RGB’s boxes, and colored orange. The balloon tails don’t loop-de-loop all over the page like RGBs but they’re not ‘standard’ either- there’s always this little jag to them closer to the text

RGB’s speechbubbles are actually one of the plainest/most conventional in the entire story

Excluding the tails of course. Those never ever take the most direct or efficient path to his face. Yeah, it adds an impression of silliness, but also speaks to the fact that RGB takes creative and weird solutions out of situations. I’ll laugh about the entire Click arc later but like really. REALLY. RGB DID ALL OF THAT

I love how Hero’s first actual words to RGB send him immediately into ?????????????. He keeps up this huge grin for most of The Hook and this is the first time his “I’m your friendly neighborhood TV nothing to see here!!” demeanor gets shaken up

the ladder hurts Hero’s feet, so why does she sleep on the top bunk? The bottom bunk doesn’t have any bedding on it so it’s not like she’s regulated to the top by any kind of sibling dibs

Weird... weird detail to be showing us modmad..... 

“Are you a monster?” “the very worst one” that’s a lotta blue dripping off yer chin there, stop crying

The mom is a character for two (2) seconds and even she gets her own unique speechbox; blue, fuzzy and barely connected, which does a really great job of communicating that she’s basically still asleep without ever having to see her

‘happy boi about to bring newest kidnapping to the sky world’

That’s a Mary Poppins reference, that is. RGB exclaiming ‘spit spot!’ earlier also got be thinking of Poppins

Clouds look so fluffy out of airplane windows, I’m honestly jealous

Doors! Gotta wonder where they all lead. Gotta wonder if they’ll get more use past this outside Hero’s recovery Time

I’ve just spend like 15m trying to figure out what the symbols above the doors are and I THINK it’s alchemy? “libra sign upside down” is luckily an easily searchable term, and that symbol in particular is for gas becoming liquid

I think the door beyond that has the alchemical symbol for gold? I’m not having luck on the others, including the door they actually go through here/its sister door Hero opens after the Elastic Valley fiasco.

RGB are you pissed that you had to tell this kid your name yourself? Are you upset about manners?? She’s like 7 dude cmon have you met a 7 year old. Thinking about it, possibly not, all the confirmed Other Heroes are definitely older- they all come across to me as adults

well, actually, who even knows how old Assok is. They might be the exception

The little ‘peephole’ eye popping open when the right key is close is nice atmospheric detail, but it kinda makes me wonder if there’s a person like. Seeing out of that eye. Whether someone gets a little notification every time one of these doors is opened

It’s the World of Make Believe! Stupendous! Break-taking! Modmad is exceptional at colors and beautiful environments full of personality! Hero’s last chance to turn back is gone!

Hero only being awake for 20 minutes before becoming Instantly Tired = biggest actual mood, my god. Me too sweetie

Except I can’t blame trees. And a sort of magical jet-lag effect. Yo, are sleeping tree’s making you sleepy the same sorta thing where when one person yawns everyone yawns

I just really like how this tail loops around RGB’s physical actual legs. It makes it seem like speech is a tangible thing that interacts with the world and that you could, like, touch or something. all it’s missing is a shadow

God, fuck me. That’s the yellow brick road. God dammit. Son of a bitch.

RGB, pg 14: do not touch me, do not look at me, don’t speak to me, you have tentative permission to breathe

RGB from the Market onwards: carries her multiple times (admittedly, almost always exactly like you shouldn’t), picks her up, swings her around, hugs her when she’s scared of the dark, ‘I Have Longer Legs, Hop On’ piggybacks, protecting her by putting his own bod in harms way, general Manhandling of Child

I kid, I kid, it’s more complex than that. For one, RGB doesn’t want Hero getting hurt cause she’s Important and has Heroing she can’t do if she’s injured. Second, that whole “don’t get attached” thing gets thrown out the window on like day 2

“I’ve only known Hero for a day and a half but if anything happened to her I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself”

RGB is honestly... super bad at not attaching to people. honestly, actually terrible at it

Ooh! Those flowers! I didn’t realize those always happen when Hero’s sleeping. They also look like she’s drawn them herself! That’s honestly… lethally adorable

Fun fact technicolor dream shell snail changes colors every panel

RGB bleeds static? What emotion is that? I dig it, unconscious is an emotion and i feel it in my soul

w...white noise.... god DAMMIT

ey, the tree’s look different in the light of day- all those blurry fairy light ‘leaves’ are gone now. 

!! Hero glows the exact same way when she’s asleep! RGB, however, is not. Tree’s have leaves when they dream, huh

oh god tree’s have LEAVES when they DREAM

...we’ll come back to this thought when we get to the sick sun tree cause that thing is a whole other can of Lore worms

In a different direction, there must be some sort of difference between Tree Dreaming and People Dreaming, because dreaming trees do NOT trigger RGB’s weird stuntman nightmares

these particular trees are also see-through; i can’t remember if they’re all like this throughout the world? will have to pay attention and see

oh- OH. also just made the connection for why trees provide a saf(er) haven- bottled nightmares will very shortly be used to dispel fears. Dreams repel Fears! It’s best to sleep near tree’s because just you dreaming might not be enough to keep things at bay while your rest

And the chapter’s finished off with a new character and new speechbox to go with it! It’s the first to use a different font and text color to our main characters

Honestly though, what is UP with the Butterfly? It’s clearly keeping close tabs on them, and only speaks to Hero when RGB is unconscious or otherwise occupied. It clearly doesn’t wanna be seen by him, which is shady. It shows up like twice? And the other time RGB and Hero don’t even know it’s there and listening. Between that and the Eyes, like… does it have it’s own agenda and interests or is it an agent of Hate? Idk man maybe I’ll pick up on more Butterfly stuff on this readthrough

*notices that the plant it was resting on withers once it flies away* ... that’s no good. especially if that butterfly can do the same to trees

...... ah. it kinda can. Consider, please, Hate’s likely role in the demise of the Sun, and Her confirmed ability to smother them in [-----]

Butterfly’s parting words: “be wise”. Hero’s next and immediate action: doodle RGB’s face

And that’s the Hook! Join me next time when Hero has a fun play date with some new friends everything goes wrong almost instantly.

[sazandorable]

Descriptions Of Lord Asriel That I Cannot Fucking Handle

(spoilers, btw)

So. Surprisingly probably no one ever, it turns out i just Can Not Handle Lord Asriel. I feel personally victimized by Lord Asriel and everything it means about me. I remembered liking him a lot but I never realized how this fucking man apparently shaped my tastes for all male characters and father figures ever. (DISCLAIMER THO: YEAH OK I DO HAVE MY OWN DADDY ISSUES BUT HE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM MY DAD AND UNRELATED TO THEM. Shocking, yes.)

On first rereading attempt I excruciatingly managed to get through the first chapter and finally just stopped there and screamed in a pillow and stepped away to collect myself, and it took me over 6 months to even consider going back to it.

Which I’m doing now, but that means I still had to reread that first chapter again.

And yeah. Y e a h.

Have a collection of my suffering through the first 3 chapters of the first damn book

"Good evening, Wren,” said Lord Asriel. Lyras always heard that harsh voice with a mixture of pleasure and apprehension.

This is the third thing said about Lord Asriel ever and is also where I first lost it back in October and I’m STILL absolutely losing it, WHAT A SENTENCE.

Gods, Lord Asriel explains everything about me and my tastes in character kdfljdkgjldjgfljglfdgjfg DAMN IT.

jesus, every ten lines i need to take a break and calm down

The Butler looked uncomfortable. Guests entered the Retiring Room at the Master’s invitation only, and Lord Asriel knew that;

THIS FUCKER WHO JUST LIKES TO DO WHAT HE WANTS AND MAKE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT IT

Lyra’s uncle moved across to the fire and stretched his arms high above his head, yawning like a lion. He was wearing travelling clothes. Lyra was reminded, as she always was when she saw him again, of how much he frightened her.

that lion simile is totes uncalled for

(Stelmaria:) “You should rest.”

He stretched out in one of the armchairs, so that Lyra could no longer see his face.

“Yes, yes. I should also change my clothes. There’s probably some ancient etiquette that allows them to fine me a dozen bottles for coming in here dressed improperly. I should sleep for three days. The fact remains that —”

He’s snarky and funny and he makes you want to bundle him up under five blankets and he’s still intimidating I hate him so much

“There are only three dozen bottles left of the ‘98.”

“All good things pass away.”

HE SAYS THIS SHIT ABOUT A FUCKING BOTTLE OF WINE (and still intends to drink it)

Then Lord Asriel stood up and turned away from the fire. She saw him fully, and marvelled at the contrast he made with the plump Butler, the stooped and languid Scholars. Lord Asriel was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with savage laughter. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild animal, and when he appeared in a room like this, he seemed a wild animal held in a cage too small for it.

*burrows face in book*

*slowly rolls over and crawls on floor to a cliff from which to throw self off*

Too much. Way too much. What the fuck.

(also please note there has been absolutely zero physical description such as hair or eye color, and yet this is the most eloquent and striking description of any character so far)

He seized her wrist and twisted hard.

“Lyra! What the hell are you doing?”

“Let go of me and I’ll tell you!”

“I’ll break your arm first. How dare you come in here?”

“I’ve just saved your life!”

They were still for a moment, the girl twisted in pain but grimacing to prevent herself from crying out louder, the man bent over her frowning like thunder.

b y e

what the fuck is that last simile oh my god Pullman PLEASE stop making Asriel sound like legit pagan god

There was a knock on the door.

“That’ll be the Porter,” said Lord Asriel. “Back in the wardrobe. If I hear the slightest noise I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She darted back there at once, and no sooner had she pulled the door shut than Lord Asriel called, “Come in.”

I can’t quite put into words what it is exactly that tickles me so much about the fact that Asriel calls out so fast without giving Lyra any spare time to hide properly, but it does. (He’s a ruthless ass, basically.)

And then I won’t copy that but he basically tells Lyra that he won’t help her but still deliberately makes sure she can see what he’s going to show everyone, he keeps telling her to stay out of this but also decides to show her, knowing full well that she’ll be interested. And of course he enrolls her to be his spy. The amount of misplaced and unexpressed fatherly pride he has to be feeling right now. We get absolutely no hint of it in the text, but. He’s so mad and unkind with her but what he must be FEELING right now, seeing Lyra suddenly wildly jumping out of a wardrobe out of nowhere saving his life like a proper little spying little shit. Like father like daughter lakdklskflanfklsdnf GET OUT ASRIEL AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

As soon as the door closed, Lord Asriel looked across the room directly at the wardrobe, and Lyra felt the force of his glance almost as if it had physical form, as if it were an arrow or a spear. Then he looked away and spoke softly to his dæmon.

ex c u se me. things that are uncalled for, 2: this

She came to sit calmly at his side, alert and elegant and dangerous, her green eyes surveying the room before turning, like his black ones, to the door from the Hall as the handle turned. Lyra couldn’t see the door, but she heard an intake of breath as the first man came in.

“Master,” said Lord Asriel. “Yes, I’m back. Do bring in your guests; I’ve got something very interesting to show you.”

HE’S SO DRAMATIC

WHAT A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN

WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF SET-UP HE JUST SAT ThERE WaiTING WIth his COFFEE

STOP HIM

THIS IS An ADuLT MAN AND HE JUST DOES THAT FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES

And this was just chapter one.

Chapter 2, just a paragraph later:

“Master,” said Lord Asriel. “I came too late to disturb your dinner, so I made myself at home in here. Hello, Sb-Rector. Glad to see you looking so well. Excuse my rough appearance; I’ve only just landed. Yes, Master, the Tokay’s gone. I think you’re standing in it. The Porter knocked it off the table, but it was my fault. Hello, Chaplain. I read your latest paper with great interest...”

He moved away with the Chaplain, leaving Lyra with a clear view of the Master’s face. [...] Lord Asriel was already dominating the room, and although he was careful to be courteous to the Master in the Master’s own territory, it was clear where the power lay.

how does anyone ever handle Lord Asriel in-universe. Also please note how he blithely and pointedly lies to the face of the man who just tried to murder him. This asshole I just

Then he just goes on being as dramatic as possible and pointedly and dramatically ignoring people and showing off a mutilated human head to a bunch of old men with no warning, presumably also just for the shock factor and shits and giggles again.

(Lyra’s narration also mentions quite a few times that she wishes she could see it and wants to hear more about scalping and i also love this child so much)

Lyra looked again at her uncle, who was watching the Scholars with a glitter of sardonic amusement, and saying nothing.

Asriel: *just stands there saying and doing nothing*

Me: *points at him* fuck you

She woke up with a start when someone shook her shoulder.

“Quiet,” said her uncle. The wardrobe door was open, and he was crouched there against the light. “They’ve all gone, but there are still some servants around. Go to your bedroom now, and take care that you say nothing about this.”

“Did they vote to give you the money?” she said sleepily.

“Yes.”

“What’s Dust?” she said, struggling to stand up after having been cramped for so long.

“Nothing to do with you.”

“It is to do with me,” she said. “If you wanted me to be a spy in the wardrobe you ought to tell me what I’m spying about. Can I see the man’s head?”

Pantalaimon’s whiter ermine-fur bristled: she felt it tickling her neck. Lord Asriel laughed shortly.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he said; [...]

He says this but he laughed. Like father like daughter fuck me I bet he’s just so conflictedly delighted that she grew up this way and they got to have this little spying family bonding.

“[...] Do as you’re told and go to bed.”

“But where are you going?”

“Back to the North. I’m leaving in ten minutes.”

“Can I come?”

He stopped what he was doing, and looked at her as if for the first time. His dæmon turned her great green leopard-eyes on her too, and under the concentrated gaze of both of them, Lyras blushed. But she gazed back fiercely.

“Your place is here,” said her uncle finally.

once again Lyra’s direct and completely spontaneous request for Exciting and Adventurer things, but also urgh, urgh, urgh, that gaze, and how Asriel needs a minute to tell her no. He thought about it. He pictured it. And then he said no but she put that thought in his head and he didn’t say no immediately and uhrgikdfhgjfdhjghfkghkdg.

“[...] Do are you’re told and go to bed, and if you’re a good girl I’ll bring you back a walrus tusk with some Eskimo (sic) carving on it. Don’t argue any more or I shall be angry.”

And his dæmon growled with a deep savage rumble that made Lyra suddenly aware of what it would be like to have teeth meeting in her throat.

Lyra compressed her lips and frowned hard at her uncle. He was pumping the air from the vacuum flask, and took no notice; it was as if he’d already forgotten her.

WHAT A GOOD NICE DAD

and this is the end of that but we get a flashback in chapter 3 of Asriel’s visits:

[...] and he called her to stand in front of him and tell him what she’d learned since his last visit. And she would mutter whatever she could dredge up about geometry or Arabic or history or anbarology, and he would sit back with one ankle resting on the other knee and watch her inscrutably until her words failed.

i was just about to yell “WAIT THE THING ABOUT ASRIEL IS JUST BIG DICK ENERGY” but no it’s not just that, it’s definitely also a lot of gratuitous being a bastard.

and then he leads her on with questions about her dirty nails just to make her lie then reveals he saw her playing on the roof, but then instead of chewing her out about it he’s just 

watching her sardonically.

And then he listens to her talking about what parts of the roofs are or aren’t accessible and encourages her to explore the undergrounds.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found that out.”

(fuck you!)

then he gives her pocket money (in gold) and asks her if she respects the Scholars and Stelmaria laughs when Lyra answers ‘yes’ and Lyra blushes.

relatable.

ok that’s it thanks for coming to my TED about how much i love and hate Lord Asriel his terrible parenting and his fucking incredible ideas of family bonding

[cherryplasmids]

☆ stars above, stars below ☆

pairing: leonard ‘bones’ mccoy x reader  fandom: star trek reboot — out of movie sequence prompt:  “i want to stare up at the stars with you one last time” notes: character death 

—check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All he could think about was the stars.

He never cared for them because they never captured his attention enough for him to gain any sort of appreciation for them. Why care for a huge ball of gas held together by gravity? The only star that mattered was the sun — not any other incomparable remote fragment. It’s needed for survival on Earth while other stars were there to look pretty.

He simply hated space and everything in it, including all the objects that didn’t harm him or benefit him — like stars.

Somehow, though, in this moment they appeared brighter than usual. Scattering charmingly across the night sky, their colors contrasting against the dark background. Regardless of what commotion occurred on any planet, they were always there, shining brightly.

It reminded him of you.

And maybe that’s why he was thinking so highly of them right now. He was vulnerable, unsure of what fate has in store for him. Their remoteness triggered fond memories of you always being there by his side. Never once leaving even when his unlovable flaws appeared. Nothing could keep you away from the Southern doctor.

He wished to be with you. To hold you and kiss you like he did only several hours ago.

How could something go wrong so fast?

One minute he was working on a patient in an unknown planet’s clinic and then the next minute, the northwest wing exploded, sending him several yards away. There were an abundance of screams and crying from injured people. Yelling mixed in only a few moments after. Officers were trying to locate the wounded. Everything sounded fuzzy to him, voices going in and out. Silence one minute, loud yelling the next. They were all foreign and distant.

He tried calling out for attention, for help, but his voice was just above a whisper. If they didn’t find and aid him soon, he would surely die. The blood gushing from his head and chest would attest to that. However, no matter how bad it looked, he didn’t feel pain.

No, all he felt was longing. He wanted to see you again.

“Bones!” A feminine dismembered voice screamed out, the same voice that soothed him on a stressful day — the one that seduced him on cool nights. The utter frantic tone did not register in his head. Instead, he heard the tinkle of your beautiful voice, chiming prettily like church bells after a wedding. He imagined you in a white gown, despite the lack of virginity you have. It made him chuckle, he was much funnier when he was drowsy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“BONES!” You cried out, complete devastation lacing the word. “Goddammit Leonard, where are you?!” A strangled gurgle caught your attention, which caused you to have a moment of internal conflict. Leo could be severely hurt, dying as you helped someone else. Although you needed to find Leonard, you couldn’t ignore an injured victim. So you stopped running and yelling to find the hurt person. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

The strangled sound occurred again, giving you a hint of where the person might be. After a few minutes of searching, you fell to your knees at the sight, hands covering your mouth in complete shock. There was an abundance of blood, covering every portion of the injured upper body. Blood pooled around the head area, only increasing the overwhelming fright you already had. And oh fuck the smell induced a certain stomach-stinking effect — copper mixed with death. You crawled towards the blue-shirted body, fearing the absolute worse.

It was Leonard. Your Leonard.

You just about died right there.

Your hands automatically went to his face, noticing his eyes fluttering between being open and closing. Tapping his cheek, you attempted to get him to stay up. Despite the obvious large piece of shrapnel sticking from his chest, it wasn’t the worst wound. No, his head injury was much more grave. Panic rose within you. Nursing was not your occupation.You worked with Scotty in the engineering department, meaning anything dealing with the body was extremely out of your league.

“Leonard? Baby, can you hear me?”

Bones felt his nerves ease relatively fast. The voice that spoke to him, calmed him down. It was an angel no doubt. Perhaps it was the stars. If he had known they would speak such beautifully, his opinion of them would have dramatically changed years prior.

And then when he opened his eyes, the most exquisite star of them all was staring right back him, automatically bringing a smile to his face.

“Hey, sexy.” He whispered out, raising his hand to brush the hair away from your face. Well, he tried to. His limbs wouldn’t move on his command, but did that bother him? No, not when you were there.

“You’re bleeding, Leo. It doesn’t look so good. We need to get help, fix you up a bit. And then, you’ll be right as rain.” You tried smiling, but it came out as a grimace. Leonard taught you a while back that positivity in these moments was vital in keeping the patient calm. Any sort of hysterics would cause more damage. “You need to tell me what to do.”

“Haven’t kissed you since the morni’.”

Although this was a terrible circumstance, a light giggle slipped out of your lips. “Only you would think about that at a time like this.” Then a little lightbulb went off in your brain. Pressure was needed to stop the bleeding or at least, halt it until Leonard could get the proper medical care.

However, your hands trembled and your body stilled. There was so much fucking blood. It was all over you know as you tried saving your boyfriend. It made you want to throw up or pass out. The unsettling sight would haunt you for sure.

“The stars are stun’n’ ‘night.” Leonard’s words were slurred, which didn’t seem like a good thing.

“Y/N? Y/N, can you read me?” A sudden Scottish voice called out, sounding a bit frantic and out of breath. You sighed in relief, quickly grabbing your Communicator and spoke hastily into the object.

“Scotty!”

“I was worried about ya lass, where are ya?”

“Listen, Scotty, I’m with Leonard.” You said, pausing for a moment when Scotty cried out in happiness. “It doesn’t look so good. He’s bleeding, everywhere.” Your eyes teared up at every word you spoke. Even though there was hope pulsing through your veins, there was a tinge of fear gradually gaining control. “If we don’t get a doctor now, he’ll —”

“Dammit, I am a doctor.”

A choked laugh mixed with a sob emitted from your throat, as Scotty began talking and to be honest, you wished Scotty had never called. It would take more than a half hour for the crew to get your location due to an unsuspecting enemy attack. They assumed the same enemies trying to kill them was the people behind the explosion.

“Scotty, he doesn’t have 30 fucking minutes. If you don’t send anyone right now, he’ll die and that’ll be on your fucking conscious.” Slamming the Communicator shut and beside you, you gave your full attention to your bleeding doctor.

“Does it hurt? There’s a large piece of building shrapnel stuck in your chest.” You felt stupid for asking but you didn’t know what else to say. How do you comfort a man on the brink of death?

“It doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” Was all he said, negating your question entirely. You have no idea what that meant since it was most likely a southern phrase, but you did stop asking him questions.

“Remem’ our firs’ da’e? The truck one?” You nodded, brushing his hair away from his face. “I said I hat’d stars.”

“Because they remind you of space. And you hate space.”

“Not anymore. If I didn’ go to spa’ the’ no meetin’ you.” He smiled his fine lines wrinkling at the movement. It made you smile too, despite the tears raining down your face. His eyes began fluttering shut, prompting you to tap his cheek. His eyes shot open, looking more energetic than before. Sleep disappeared and he coughed up a bit of blood. You dabbed it away, disregarding the amount of blood already spilled.

“I love the stars, but that could never compare to the love I have for you.” He whispered gently, no longer slurring. He was gazing at you with the most adoration you have experienced in your entire life.

But then it suddenly hit you — this was his goodbye.

An overwhelming amount of anxiety smacked you in the face, suddenly sucking all sorts of breath out of you. Shaking your head you peered down at your Southern hunk with an angered expression. “Listen to me, Leonard McCoy and listen good. You are not dying here. You’re gonna die when I say you can, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled. A deep sob released from you, not one bit as happy as Bones seemed to be. “Baby?” You raised your head, meeting his hazel eyes. Laughter was no longer present, but complete serious emotion. “I have one wish to fulfill before I go.”

You nod, leaning up to him to hear his soft words. The snot and tears mingled with one another, making you look extremely disgusting. However, Bones found you beyond beautiful, the complete embodiment of elegance.

“I want to stare up at the stars with you one last time.”

Each syllable destroys every piece of your heart. That was his last wish, his last memory and he wanted to spend it with you. Who were you to deny such a thing?

Leonard grabs your hand, attempting to get you to lay down next to him. You comply, slowly laying down next to his body, despite the warm substance of blood coating your upper body and hair.

It was silent between the pair, completely focusing their attention on the brightly shining stars above them. Leonard couldn’t help but smile — after all he had his best girl and the stars. Nothing could stop his happiness. So he gently shut his eyes, the smile never wiping off his face as the light gradually disappeared.

Once his breathing stopped, you released a bloodcurdling sob, shaking as you tightly held his cold, still hands.  

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,720 published: jan 7, 2018 edited: n/a

[myselfinserts]

❝ Isn’t this kingdom beautiful? ❞

Hero work had died down over the last few months since Maddox’s arrest. Villain activity had gone strangely quiet. It was sure to pick up again once the new EHA head was established. Some heroes were being forced to take their mandatory time off. The only exceptions being students and those in the apprenticeship program. And of course Inkwell, who refused to let the Geodes rest until they cleaned out the current EHA from top to bottom to the best of their ability. 

Regi had left for two weeks for a conference and seminar. Not presenting anything, as much as he wanted to, but this was for up and coming new faces that had yet to make a debut. Though he had been invited to do a Q&A, as well as a photo shoot for one of the support tech magazines, and he’d be paid pretty nicely for his time, so he’d taken the offer. After that, he’d be helping head a seminar at the nearby college. His schedule would be completely filled.

Because of this, Luci was left with a lot of time to learn the ways of their future kingdom. 

A task that was nearly impossible. 

Memorizing dates was simple enough. Basic holidays, back closure days, the school year. Simpler customs Luci was able to catch onto quickly, like how it was seen as normal to leave your ears unpinned if you had the Elspie ears, and pinning them back was seen as peculiar. Or how it was seen as normal for a household to have at least one cat, typically one gifted to you when you purchased a new home. Greetings were usually done with a nod, and it was seen as impolite to tip your hat without doing so. Estmund had many little things about it in that vein that Luci picked up easily. 

The struggle came when it was time to learn the ways of the aristocracy and politics. Not basics like table manners or how to properly wave or bow. And nothing like how to dress for whatever occasion. No, they had to learn how to give speeches, read a room, communicate effectively with diplomats and world leaders. They had to be sure to be able to communicate in multiple languages, never knowing when an interpreter may not be at hand. Laws upon laws upon laws. They had to memorize every single one, and every single name of every law maker in the country. They were expected to see people every day. There was hardly any time to break. 

And the stress was irritating their quirk. Keeping up with the whirlwind of emotions as an empath was hard enough back home, but it only got worse as they tried to be someone who, to be perfectly honest, they weren’t. Luci could hear the whispers. Feel the thoughts being thought about them as they readjusted their posture, or as they tried to maintain a proper level of eye contact. They were tripping over their words more than ever, leaving no one impressed with the heir of Estmund. 

After the first week of trying to become a proper prince, Luci had been told that they’d be getting a helping hand. 

“Are you sure this will help?” they asked nervously. Standing at the throne never failed to make them anxious, and the circumstances only aided in exacerbating the feeling. “I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble.”

Davis nodded calmly. “Don’t fret, my child. I assure you, I would not have called for him if either of us would think it’d be trouble.” He gave them a gentle pat on the head. “And you are absolutely no trouble at all.”

“I’m sure I know a certain designer who would disagree with you there, but okay.”

Before Davis could counter that comment, Milo hurried over to them, whispering in his ear before receiving a nod and hurrying back to the doors. “He’s here.”

“Announcing the arrival of his Lordship, Count Lauris Gossamer!”

Slowly, the doors opened, and everyone stood to attention as a man entered the room towards the throne. 

As the young man slowly approached, Luci felt their heart lurch. He was about as tall as themself, with eyes the same whiter than crisp, freshly fallen snow as the king, and beautifully long hair the same tawny brown hair as Isleen. Aside from those features, this man looked nearly identical to Luci in every other way. Unlike the shepherd, however, this lad carried himself with a regal air befitting a king. Confidence, poise, and a genuine smile. Had they not known better, they'd have assumed this man was the true heir to the kingdom.

The man stopped a few feet from the throne, kneeling politely and placing a hand over his heart. His clothes were clean, stiff, and regal. An elegant royal blue with gold detailing. And a circlet very similar to the one Luci wore during their hero work.

It's not possible for me to be able to compete with someone like this.

"Greetings, your Majesty," the man stated warmly. "I have returned from my studies abroad, and my reports are already on their way to your office. I hope all has been well while I've been away."

"It's been far too long, Lauris," Davis said. "Come, to your feet. No need to be so formal."

The man nodded, quickly rising up and recomposing himself. "Of course, sir."

Davis smiled fondly, motioning to Luci. "There's someone I wish for you to meet. As I'm certain you've heard, the heir to Estmund has returned to us."

Luci swallowed, bowing politely. "I'm Lucien Adaire, Crown Prince of Estmund. Back in Elspie I'm the Peaceful Shepherd Hero: Amaryllis. Uh…it's, um. It's a privilege to meet you, sir."

"My name is Lauris Gossamer," the young man introduced himself. "It is an honor to meet you, your Highness. Would addressing you as ‘Prince Lucien’ suffice?"

"I, uh…y-yes. I guess."

"Lucien, Lauris, relax." Davis took their hands and pulled them closer together. "We're all family here. There's no need to be so formal." Davis looked to Luci, giving them a light pat on the shoulder. "Lauris here is my ward, and holds the title of Count of Gossamer. I took him in as a young lad and raised him as though he were my own as best I could. I’d say he turned out to be quite the noble. Fencing, archery, debate team, and well on his way to a doctorate in political science. We’re all proud of him."

“Th-thank you, sir.” Lauris blushed, lightly tugging on his sleeve. "Though my house is newly established, I hope to make it a proud one that can stand tall beside the other nobles of Estmund.”

Luci smiled. “I’m sure you will. I hope to be able to match your skills someday myself.”

“I would hope you’d plan to surpass me, Prince Lucien. I’m not going to accept a half assed student.”

“...come again?”

Davis chuckled. “Lauris here is going to be tutoring you on all the things you’re struggling with.” His gaze turned soft. “Milo’s tough love and tossing a life preserver methods approach worked well for me, but they don’t seem to be helping you. I figured someone a little closer in age might be able to offer something you need better than we can provide.”

“Oh...” Luci went red. “I forgot about that...”

Lauris smirked. “We’ll fix that in no time.” He lightly pulled himself away from the embrace. “I still have unpacking to do, and tomorrow is no good since its a new moon, so we’ll start our lessons the day after tomorrow. Before sunrise. I’ll send for you.” 

“Huh? Oh. O-okay.” 

“Perfect. In that case, I’ll see you all for dinner.” With a quick bow, Lauris took his leave with a spin on his heels, hair bouncing slightly as he twirled. 

Luci sighed. “He seems...interesting.”

”Indeed,” Davis chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.”

“I...I really hope you’re right.”

“Prince Lucien? It’s time to wake up.”

Luci woke up with a groan, glancing at their phone and sighing when they saw it read three in the morning. “Let me guess,” they gumbled, “Count Gossamer is calling for me?”

Milo smiled, heading to the closet and pulling out a comfortable day outfit for them. “The carriage is ready, and I packed you breakfast and lunch. We’ll see you both home in time for dinner.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” 

Reluctantly, Luci got out of bed and got dressed. They hardly remembered stepping into the carriage, nearly passing out the moment the door closed and they headed out. 

Dinner two days ago had been awkward to say the least. It was less of a dinner and more of an interrogation. Lauris was relentless in his questioning. What was hero life like? What about Luci’s husband? What laws did Elspie and Estmund share? How much of Estmund’s culture did they memorize already? What laws? What did they excel in? What did they find themself to be lacking? On and on, in a nonstop barrage until Luci had to excuse themself and locked their bedroom door for the night. 

The next day was unsettling. The entire palace staff were acting as though they were in mourning. Dressed head to toe in black, several crying heavily. Davis seemed unusually distant, barely able to turn his attention back to Luci and Isleen long enough to agree to go out to the old cabin on his next day off. When Luci had asked how Lauris was doing, everyone stared at them as though they’d seen a ghost. 

“How are you this morning, Prince Lucien?” Lauris asked cheerfully. 

Luci scoffed. “Why are you so perky? It’s three-fucking-a.m.” 

“My oh my, what a potty mouth.” 

“You’d have one too if you woke up from my nightmares.”

Lauris shrugged. “Wouldn’t know the feeling. I don’t experience dreams.” His smile faded. “Don’t experience a lot of things really.”

“That so?” Luci looked him over carefully. He hadn’t noticed at first, but Lauris was dressed rather similarly to the palace staff today. “Something to do with your quirk?”

“Yeah. There’s a lot I can’t do because of my quirk. But the pros outweigh the cons.” Lauris leaned back, looking out the window pensively. “You can go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive at our destination.”

Luci shook their head. “No, it’d be best if I stay awake.” They paused. “And...I actually want to ask you a few questions.”

“You can ask me anything after we get there.”

“No, I really need to talk about something. And you spent all dinner the other night interrogating me.”

Lauris sighed. “Very well. You get one question.” 

One question. Of course it’d be that cliche. Luci let out a huff, racking their brain and trying to figure out what to ask. There were so many things they needed to know. This man was supposed to be their teacher. This man was, if you wanted to get technical, their brother. If they were going to be spending time together, it’d make sense to get to know him. 

But only one question to start? 

“I guess I’ll start with the basics,” Luci sighed. “How did you meet my father?”

Lauris blinked in surprise. “That’s your first question?”

They shrugged. “Best to start at the beginning, right? And being the ward to the king technically makes us siblings, doesn’t it?”

“I...suppose,” Lauris said. “Well, I guess it does tie into your studies also, so it’s as good a place to start as any.” He closed his eyes, and his voice became gentler. Softer. Like feather down. “As I am sure you know, Estmund has three orphanages across the entire island. They’re some of the oldest establishments in all of the kingdom, so they’re protected by the Historical Society. But at the moment, Estmund’s orphanages are empty. There’s no orphan children. Hasn’t been for a little over twenty years or so.”

“I read about that,” Luci muttered. “But what does that have to do with you and my father? Did he take you in from one of them back when they were full?”

Lauris simply chuckled. “They were never full in my time there.” He looked at them, eyes gentle. “I was the last orphan on Estmund. Everyone else was adopted. I was about nine, maybe ten? I was the only one left at St. Cornelia’s Prep School and Boarding Home. The king showed up for an annual visit, and found me studying under a tree in the courtyard. At first he thought I was the son of the Headmistress. When he heard the truth, he took me in, no hesitation.” His laughter grew just slightly. “He wasn’t even thinking when he did that. Everyone at the castle when I arrived at first thought I was a replacement heir. It was hilarious when I told him I didn’t want the position. The thought had never crossed his mind, so hearing me say ‘I don’t wanna’ made him turn into a cod for a good minute.”

Luci’s eyes went wide. “Wait...you don’t want to be king?”

“Why would I?” Lauris asked. “All I ever wanted was a home. King Davis gave that to me.” His gaze grew distant, for just a moment. “I would have, though, if he asked me. If there was no other choice. But I just don’t like the expectations that come with being king. There’s a lot expected of me already, as ward to his Majesty and a newly established Count. I’d be expected to marry and have an heir myself, but I don’t want to ever get married. I do wish to adopt one day, but marriage is out of the question. Not to mention that there’s much left for me to learn not just about the world, but also my quirk. I have far too much to study to consider being king.” He lightly punched them in the shoulder. “Seriously, you are a lifesaver in that regard. Last thing this kingdom needs is someone who is half-assed about being part of the royal line of succession.”

“That’s...that’s a fair point, I suppose.” Luci smiled fondly. “I want to do my best for my parents. For this kingdom. For this new home I can make for myself and my family.”

“And that’s why I’m here. I’ll be teaching you, and in turn, I’ll learn from you. We’ll work together. Agreed?”

“...yeah. That sounds good.” Luci paused. “Do...you want to hear about my adoption? Back in Elspie?”

Lauris cocked an eyebrow. “You sure you’re okay telling me that?”

They nodded. “It’s only fair, right?”

The conversation lasted a while. The two broke into the basket of food that had been packed, slowly exchanging stories as they rode along in the carriage. The exhaustion and awkwardness Luci had felt had practically vanished. It hurt a little, reopening the old wounds, but they didn’t feel invaded or ill doing so. They didn’t even notice they were well into the mountains until the sun started to rise. Staring out the window, the rays of gold and pink filled the carriage in a heavenly embrace. The ocean glimmered like brilliant silver. Fire painted the skies, welcoming and hopeful. 

“Isn’t this kingdom beautiful?” Lauris asked. 

“It is,” Luci agreed. “The most beautiful place I’ve seen in a long while.” Something pointed and tiled poked out from beyond the tree line. “What’s that?”

“St. Cornelia’s. I’ll be taking you to my old stomping grounds. Figured a day away from the castle might help with your studies.”

Luci smiled. “Sounds good.”