#ignore the terrible quality of this picture | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mokulule · 2 years ago

Text

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.��“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

#dead on main #poor Jason has no idea how to act #when he's not perpetually angry #also he just really wants a hug from his dad #but that would be WEIRD #bruce is a good dad #Missed connections #Jason is catnip to Danny #thought sadly no Danny this snippet #probably next time though

1K notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

Text

Delicate - Chapter Two: Maroon

3.7k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: despite some last minute reservations about meeting Joel, you throw yourself into the date, but it doesn't go according to plan.

A/N: Ahhhhh oh my God - @hellishjoel and I are so excited to bring you the second chapter of Delicate! We're having the best time with this little pairing already and we hope they manage to worm their way into your hearts just like they have with us! We're taking turns in posting the chapters of this - so please make sure you're following both of us to keep up to date!

warnings: mentions of being a single parents, rom-com vibes, foul language, a bestie who is nothing but trouble, Joel being terrible at dating in general, a lil smattering of angst, mentions of food & alcohol consumption.

There’s a flow of peace that settles across you when the door to Noah’s room clicks shut. You love him, he’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and he keeps you afloat every day, but these moments, when he’s finally asleep and you can stop thinking for a minute, are the moments you crave each day.

You settle down on the couch, mug of tea in hand, with the TV playing quietly, just for background noise more than anything, as you pick up your phone for the first time that evening. There’s a few emails, mainly about shopping sales and holidays that you think you should book but never do - those are quickly deleted to stop any temptation of spending money on something that isn’t essential. There are a few messages from your mom, just confirming that she’ll pick Noah up from school tomorrow, what she’s planned for them to do and what she’ll feed him. You shoot a message off in reply that it all sounds good and that he’s excited for some quality time with his grandparents, because it’s true, and then you set your phone down on the coffee table and try to ignore it for a while.

You finish your tea and queue up a few episodes of a show you’ve been meaning to catch up on - something mindless that people at work always seem to talk about. So mindless that it actually sends you to sleep. You wake with a jolt a few hours later. The house is still quiet, which means Noah hasn’t decided he’s still got too much energy and needs to burn it off by jumping on the bed or pulling some of his toys out. You sigh, checking the time to see it’s almost midnight.

You gather your stuff, put the mug in the sink to deal with in the morning before trudging up to bed. There’s a moment at the top of the stairs, where you think it would be so easy to flop down on the bed and forgo the rest of your responsibilities, but you’ve got your mother’s voice in the back of your mind, something about wrinkles and pores and how bad it is to sleep in your makeup, so you turn left into the bathroom, cover your skin in serums and creams and then finally, just after midnight, you fall into bed.

Knowing it’s bad to look at your phone this late at night, once you’ve set your alarm, you click open the godforsaken Hinge app that Dixie had insisted on setting you up on. So far, after six months, you’d been on a fair few first dates, three second dates and had a God awful one night stand, but nothing had been sticking, no-one seemed to be exactly what you were looking for. You’d promised her that you’d try though, so as had become a nightly ritual for you, you set about giving away your daily likes, not really paying a huge amount of attention until he pops up for you. Joel. 45. From his first profile picture, the exact kind of man you’d been searching for. Rugged, handsome,

Of the few photos he had on his profile, he was often donning a flannel or a simple short-sleeved shirt that curved around his biceps and broad shoulders. He always wore the same tilted smile, with dazzling eyes and dark hair with licks of silver. He was a handsome lumberjack of sorts.

He looked to be an outdoorsman, at least two of Joel’s pictures were of him hiking a trail accompanied by a young girl, surrounded by greenery and tall rocks with the sunshine peeking through the branches. His face was glowing and tan from the light, his handsomeness so natural. Beautiful, even.

Joel’s “Typical Sunday” consisted of a black coffee in the morning, followed by making burgers on the grill for him and his family before settling down to watch a Dallas Cowboys football game. That was a typical Sunday for a man, but it showed how he liked to unwind and that he was a family man.

First, the mention of a family, plus that beautiful young woman in almost all of Joel’s pictures - a daughter, perhaps? Older than your own boy by quite a few years. He must have been on the younger side of having children if any of these assumptions were even correct. But there was something about knowing he also had a baby to be thinking of felt familiar, comforting, as they would always come first.

And it turns out that talking to him is pretty easy too. He’s charming, a slight insomniac like you, and from what you can tell from the slight back and forth you managed to have before you go to sleep, able to flirt a little with you too. It’s why when he asks to take you out you say yes without hesitation, it could be fun, he could be the one, who knows?

Mornings are always chaos. Half-eaten bowls of cereal on the table, a mug of coffee made with the best of intentions but sat to go cold, a rush of getting Noah dressed and in the car with everything he needed for school and then the annoyance of getting stuck in traffic on the way to drop him off, all coalesce to make you stressed as you help Noah out of the backseat.

“Remember granny is picking you up this afternoon okay?” You ask, bending down to kiss his cheek as he fiddles with the straps of his backpack.

“I know, mom.” He groans, using the back of his hand to wipe the kiss off his cheek.

You smile, ruffle his hair a bit, because no matter how much he might protest, he will always be your baby, “Behave for her, okay?” You warn lightly with a smile, “She’ll bring you back home tomorrow.”

Noah spots some of his friends across the playground and steps around you to make his way into school. You turn, hold your hand up in a wave and shout at him to have a good day. Noah turns, walking backwards to look at you, waving right back.

“Have a good day, mom!”

Underneath the way he’s growing up, he’s still the sweet little boy you knew you could raise on your own. You sit back in your car, picking your phone up to make sure you’ve got enough time to go to the store and stock up on some groceries, when you notice a notification from Hinge. It’s Joel.

Just checking you’re still okay for tonight?

For some reason, you sit and stare at it for a few minutes, fingers itching to type something, to confirm, but there’s that usual seed of doubt that appears after all this time that makes you want to tell him something’s come up, you’ll have to reschedule. After months and months of trying to find someone, to failed first date after failed first date, you wonder if it really is worth it, no matter how good of a match Joel Miller seems on paper. Is he really going to be worth getting dressed up for? You sigh, type out your usual message of I’m sorry, I think I might have to reschedule, when the screen is filled with the face of your best friend, trying to call you.

“Hello?”

“Hello sexy mama!” Dixie’s voice immediately soothes you, “How are you this fine morning?”

“I’m okay,” You speak softly, plugging the phone into the car so you can speak to her as you drive, “Just dropped Noah off at school.”

“How is my favourite man?” She asks.

“Yeah, he’s good, he’s staying with my mom tonight so I think he’s just pleased to be away from me for a while.”

“It’s like the universe read my mind!” Dixie exclaims on the other end of the phone, “Do you want to go out and get wine drunk tonight?”

You stutter for a second, because you could, you could cancel with Joel, go out and drink cheap wine and dance with your friend, but before you can say anything, Dixie picks up on your hesitation.

“OH MY GOD!” She all but screeches, “Do you have a hot date tonight?!”

You grumble a little, because how is she always so attuned to you like this?

“Yeah, although I don’t know if I’m gonna go.”

“Why not?”

You sigh again, “I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore?” You offer.

“Girl, get outta here with that attitude!” She chastises, “Is he hot?”

You grumble a little again, but you can’t deny it, Joel is hot, “Yes.”

“Well then,” You can hear her clap her hands in the background, clearly having you on speaker so she can go about her business, “If he’s hot, then there’s no harm in it, forget me and my wine, go out, drink wine with your hot mystery stranger and get fucked, girl!”

“Dixie!” You screech, “I’m not fucking him.”

“Whatever you say, girl!” She shouts down the phone, “If you cancel, I’m kicking your ass, okay?” You sigh, once again, something you’re getting more and more used to these days, “Have fun and be safe!”

And then all you can hear is the dial tone from where she’s hung up on you. You think about it all the way around the grocery store, she wouldn’t know if you did cancel, would she? But you’ve known her long enough to know she’d sniff a lie out of you in seconds. So, when you settle down at your desk, you pull out your phone and send Joel a reply to confirm the plans you made last night, and then spend the rest of the work day trying not to work yourself up about the whole thing.

You don’t think that the anxiety of waiting for a date to show up will ever get easier. Stood just inside the doorway of the restaurant Joel had chosen, you’re chewing at the skin around your thumbnail. Did you dress right? Do you look okay? When he turns up will he look like his pictures or not? Will he lean in for a kiss on the cheek? Do you give him a hug? You’d like to think of yourself as a seasoned pro at this now, but those first few awkward moments always made you anxious - there was no second chance at first impressions.

You needn’t have worried about Joel though. When the door opens and he stands in front of you, he is exactly the man you’d studied on that app. Taller than you, broad and big. Scruff, peppered with gray across his face, though it’s neatly kept, just like this hair, although more unruly, it’s still peppered with grays and it suits him. He’s wearing dark jeans, and a flannel that you think must be saved for best. You step closer, open your arms. Joel leans down, and does indeed press a kiss to your cheek, one of his wide palms pressed lightly on your lower back as he hugs you back a little.

“Nice to meet you, Joel.” You smile when he pulls away.

“You too, ma’am.” He smiles back at you, and you can tell he’s nervous.

“What have I told you about that?” You tease as you step towards the hostess, Joel giving her his name, you hope the slight teasing will put him at ease, you remember just what it was like when you started dating for the first time, and as much as you want to have a good time, you want to make sure Joel is having a good time too.

She picks up two menus, leads the two of you to a table at the edge of the restaurant. Joel pulls your chair out for you, pushing it gently under you as you sit down. The light is low, and there’s a thrum of chatter across the whole restaurant as you open the menu, glancing your eyes over the choices.

“Do you want to share a bottle of wine?” You ask, finger skimming the list of wines available.

Joel nods, “Sure thing, darlin’.”

You smile, looking down at the menu, deciding you much prefer darling to ma’am, especially in that sweet southern drawl of his. When the waitress returns, you both order food and a bottle of wine, which is quickly brought to the table, uncorked, with the dark red liquid poured into two glasses. The waitress leaves the bottle on the table as you raise your glass, Joel following suit, clinking them together before you take a sip.

You’re watching as he does the same, a smaller sip than you, and then watch as his nose crinkles and he coughs a little. It makes you laugh, putting your glass down to cover your mouth a little.

“Dunno why I said yes,” He shakes his head, “Fuckin’ hate wine.”

You can’t help but properly laugh now, hoping that it puts him a little at ease. You reach over the table, lay your hand on his wrist just a touch, “What would you prefer to drink?”

You don’t miss the way he subtly drags his wrist back from your touch, covering it by scratching at the skin on the side of his hand, but you don’t let it bother you. You’re a touchy person, it’s what makes you feel at ease mostly, but that doesn’t mean it works for Joel, so you fold your hands back in your lap.

“Usually beer,” He mumbles, flagging down the waitress as she walks past to ask for just that, “Or whiskey.”

“I don’t mind a beer,” You offer, trying to make light conversation, “But whiskey makes my throat burn.”

He doesn’t offer much of a reply apart from a short hum from his mouth, his attention moving from you to the room around you, letting the table fall into silence. You look down at your lap, trying to think of things to say whilst you wait for your food.

“So, Sarah, right?” You ask after his daughter, it’s something the two of you have in common at least, “You must be super proud of her, medical school is incredible.”

“Yeah,” He says simply, “She’s a very smart girl.”

You expect him to ask after Noah, ask him a little about what he’s like, maybe what his favourite subjects are at school or whether he’s in any sports clubs or anything, but he doesn’t offer anything else to you, doesn’t ask any questions.

There’s a lull in the conversation, saved by the waitress dropping your meals in front of you, fresh tomato pasta with chicken for you and steak and mashed potatoes with asparagus for Joel. You swirl your fork through the pasta, scooping some into your mouth as Joel cuts into his steak. Your eyes are trained on him, watching how he eats - it’s one of your big tests, table manners, and to be fair to him, he passes with flying colours - sure he eats a bit fast, but it’s nothing off-putting, and he seems to be able to use a knife and fork properly and chew with his mouth closed, which is a far cry from the last person you’d been out with.

“You look really good tonight,” You offer, setting your fork down for a moment, “The flannel is very Texas.”

You think in the dim light you can see him flush a little, and you’ve not said anything that isn’t true, he does look good. Fucking great actually. Joel finishes swallowing, takes a swig of his beer.

“Thank you,” He tips his head towards you, “You look nice too,” He brings his hand up to his face to motion, “Rosy cheeks.”

You try not to let your disappointment show, it is a compliment after all, so you put all your focus back down into your meal, the two of you finishing your food in a rather awkward silence - you willing Joel to ask you something, to start a conversation, anything really. You watch as Joel pushes the asparagus around his plate after eating two of the spears, finishing off his steak and potatoes but leaving the rest of the greens.

When the waitress comes back to clear your plates, she asks if you’d like the dessert menu. You look to Joel, who tips his head in a way to say it’s up to you, but this has quite possibly been the most excruciating few hours of your life, so you drain your glass of wine, tip the last of the bottle into the glass and sit to wait for the bill.

“Listen,” Joel starts, dragging your attention from the bottom of your glass to him, a look of slight regret on his face, “I ain’t too good at all this,” He tries to explain, “It’s been a long time and I’m a little rusty.”

You kind of want to wring his ass for it a little, but underneath his apparent disinterest, you can still see the nerves of the guy who first walked through the door, and you get it, you think you’d been similar when you first started dating again, but you don’t think you’d completely lost the ability to think of a single question.

Joel insists on paying the bill and you don’t fight him for the privilege of splitting it - you think it might upset some of that southern chivalry he has and for someone else they’ll love that. It’s a silent affair as you both stand up, gather your things.

“How are you getting home?” Joel asks, holding the front door open for you.

“I can just grab a cab,” You smile, “How about you?”

He points to a truck, “Only had one so I can drive home,” He explains, “Do you mind if I wait with you for your cab?” He asks, “I’d feel better knowing you get in one safe.”

“Of course,” You smile, “The hostess called one for me, so it shouldn’t be long.”

There’s another lull in conversation, thankfully your cab arrives quickly, saving the silence from falling into awkwardness again. Joel beats you to the door, opening it for you.

“I would say it’s been nice meeting you,” He speaks, “But I feel like I made this real difficult, and I’m sorry for that.”

Going to step into the cab, you stop, leaning down to put your bag in the back seat, pausing a little before you turn back around to him, meeting his eyes. They’re striking, dark brown and beautiful, and trying to tell you just how much he knows he’s messed up. It makes your heart sink because you feel that sadness too, knowing he had so much promise, that he understood you in a way you thought other people didn’t, without even needing to talk to you, he’s a single parent, he gets it, like other people don’t. It frustrates you, makes your breath catch in your throat and your eyes glass over.

You bring a comforting hand to his shoulder, “It’s okay,” You add a smile at the end, “It takes some time to get used to this all again, I was the same,” You look down at your shoes, “It’ll get easier each time you do it, I promise.”

His head dips, regret flashed across his face, like he wishes he could go back and do it all over but better this time.

“M’sorry, again,” His tone is low, morose even, then he dips, presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “Get home safe.”

You flop down on your bed, hand running over your face, wondering at what point it had gone wrong. He’d had so much potential, had seemed like he could be so right for you, so what went wrong?

No sooner have you sent the ‘home safe’ message to Dixie, do you feel the soft vibrating of your phone. You answer, put the phone on loudspeaker and set it by your head.

“So, how did it go?”

You groan, “He had so much potential Dix,” You let out a pained noise, “I don’t know where it went wrong?!”

“Oh honey,” She coos down the phone, aware more than anyone how much you wanted to be done with dating and finally have someone you could spend time with, “What happened?”

“I don’t even know!” You exclaim, “Like, I could tell he was nervous, and this was his first date in years, but it was like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life, it was so hard!”

You can hear her sucking on her teeth on the other end of the phone, “Are you being too hard on him?” She asks, “You always say the cocky men are no good because they’re rehearsed, maybe he just needs time to warm up?”

“Dixie, I’d need a flamethrower to warm him up!”

That gets a giggle out of her, “Mama, listen to me,” She goes into serious mode now, “Not everyone is as seasoned as you at this, and if this was his first date in years and he comes face to face with you? Of course he’s going to be nervous, you can’t write him off just for that honey.”

That’s when your truth really hits out, “But what if I spend all that time warming him up and it’s a waste of time? He could turn out to be no good for me and then I’ve wasted so much time instead of trying to find the right person.”

“Honey, respectfully, you’re forty, not at the end of your life, I promise that maybe spending some time trying to unravel someone a little instead of writing them off immediately might actually be worth it.”

“I don’t know, Dix…” You trail off.

“Just sleep on it, okay?” She offers, “See how you feel when you wake up before you send him the ‘thanks but no thanks’ message.”

“Okay, I promise.”

The two of your say goodbye to each other, you stay led on the bed for a while before you push yourself up, plug your phone into the charger, noticing the notification from Hinge when your screen lights up. You can see it’s Joel’s name that sits on the front screen. You sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed, weighing up whether to read it or not. Deciding that if you do read it, you’re likely to make a decision against what Dixie told you, so you leave the notification sitting there, get yourself ready for bed and then will yourself to sleep without going over every second of the date wondering what you could have done differently.

289 notes · View notes

localicecreambiter · 11 months ago

Text

been drawing all night and saw the new @linked-maze update >:) couldn't resist he's my favorite

ignore the terrible picture quality as per usual, can't even tell its blue paper

#lm wind #linked maze #legend of zelda #my art #loz #idk if you wanted to be tagged but #hes a little guy #and he always looks angry #my favorite type of guy!!

178 notes · View notes

3van-x3 · 12 days ago

Text

Time to follow literally ALL of my friends on Tumblr let's go guys 😈🙏

How do y'all like the Homestuck tree? It's a wip but wtvvv (ignore how terrible my picture quality is I beg)

#homestuck #trees #christmas #eridan ampora #hs eridan #karkat vantas #nepeta leijon #gamzee makara

34 notes · View notes

thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 1 year ago

Text

Mosaic

kaeya/gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, teensy angst, fluff

warning(s)!!!: hydro-vision/polearm-user reader (bc i said so), kaeya word vomits all over the place, kaeya also becomes self-aware of feelings and Dislikes that, kaeya also makes some poor choices in leu of those feelings, all is well in the end tho! he learns (and cries) (tayls is pushing the pathetic crybaby kaeya agenda and cannot be stopped)

w.count: 8.7k

synopsis: kaeya is none the wiser to the people around him and what it is they think about him- he didn't get his title of 'top candidate for grandson in law' for nothing. however, he never thought he'd get so swept up in his own feelings that when he does, he decides he has to put a stop to them no matter the cost. but can he really follow through with that?

a/n: i love when tumblr nerfs my banner quality but it's whatever. have some kaeya nonsense (fr take this away from me)

“A mosaic.”

That was your answer to a question Paimon and the Traveler asks while you were meandering around the Favonius Library looking for a book you needed for some personal research. They had run into you there and a conversation about what some citizens of the City of Freedom embody had sprung up somehow. For example, Paimon was very set on saying that Master Diluc was a rock- set in his ways and tough to budge- and so on from there. The ideas and objects tossed around were anywhere between insightful and downright silly.

So, it was inevitable that eventually the trio would cycle around to the Knights. Jean was dubbed a Dandelion according to the Traveler and Lisa was crowned as an elegant bookmark that was so sharp it would cause terrible papercuts. Of course, Lisa’s object was picked ever so gracefully by Paimon even if it didn’t make much sense she was set on her answer, and nothing would change her mind. Then, when the personification of one Kaeya Alberich came around, admittingly the two Outlanders were stumped.

Kaeya would always peruse around with such an air of mystery. Keeping important aspects of himself tucked so far away that very few people knew of his secrets- and they were tight lipped for their own reasons. His smooth tongue aided him greatly whenever someone would ask about himself personally- spinning tales and weaving verses that got him out of any sort of personal interrogation.

The trio knew if they asked Diluc, he’d give a short and possibly crude answer. Jean would probably give him some illusion of not being sorted into such games and Lisa would just think you three were adorable and not give her two cents at all. You, however, thought on it for a bit longer and finally had an answer.

“A mosaic?” Paimon mimicked, making sure her voice was kept down in the sanctuary of books. “Like the artwork?”

“He is good looking,” Traveler pitched and it was true. Even people with aged or poor working eyes could see Kaeya was far from being an ugly man.

“I don't see how him being a little ‘good looking’ is deserving of the title of being a piece art!” You chuckle at Paimon’s small fit of confusion.

“Well, ignoring his looks, a mosaic is a piece of work that is made of small pieces right? It isn’t whole until it’s all put together. Just like a puzzle.”

“So, he’s a glorified puzzle?”

“That isn’t what I meant,” you shake your head in a small chuckle. You take a small trip to another corner of the library and run your fingers along the spines of different books before you grab one and easily slide it out of its spot on the shelf.

It’s a book on different types of art. Flipping the pages you find a page with a drawn on copy of a mosaic from another country. You lay it down on a nearby table and tap the drawing with your fingertip.

“What I meant was the process of becoming a mosaic- how it’s created.” you trace the empty spaces of white on the page where the piece of the drawn on piece were supposed to connect to create a bigger piece. “Various pieces of work all put together to make one big picture. A series of events leading to a grand conclusion of hardwork and patience. Maybe it took a lot of time and work. Sometimes creating such a piece was so frustrating at times you wanted to give up, or maybe sometimes nothing looked right. But, by the end of it all- it couldn’t be anything but a wonderful representation of all those struggles.”

Paimon floated in awe at your explanation and the Travelers playfully placed their hands on their hips as they looked at you.

“You sure think highly of Kaeya, don’t you?”

“It’s that noticeable, huh?” You chuckle a tad embarrassed. Your long-standing puppy-crush on Kaeya you’ve had since you met him wasn’t always the best hidden secret. In fact, you were almost positive that the Cavalry Captain himself knew you had a thing for him, but you were happy he never cornered you about it.

“You’re a love-struck citizen alright,” Paimon rushed to the Traveler’s side in making slight jests at you. You shut the book you had used to try and explain your choice of object and rubbed the back of your neck as you ignore the warmth in your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You turn on your heel and walk back to the shelf to replace the book. Paimon had cupped a small hand around her chin before she was floating over to your side and asking you another question.

“So, if Kaeya is a mosaic, then who’s his artist?” You look at her and blink a few times, processing what she was asking. You didn’t expect a question like that. You cup your own chin in thought and after a moment, you laugh at being caught off guard.

“I hadn’t thought of that. I guess maybe Mondstadt itself? It is where all his friends and family are after all. Oh, and his job of course.”

“That makes sense,” Paimon muses, seemingly satisfied with your answer. The conversation had moved from the shelves to the open space of the library and soon out the doors. As the three of you left, the topic of objects to people shifted to one of getting some food into Paimon’s ever empty stomach.

The book you had previously replaced back on the shelf was easily slid back out by a hand adorning open finger gloves. Taking a relaxed seat at a nearby table, he flipped to the very page you had been on before and looked at the image himself with a small huff that twisted into a quirk of his lips.

“How interesting,” he muses before reading the whole installment about that specific piece of art. After all, how could he not?

The next morning was quick to roll around. After a hearty meal at the Good Hunter and pleasant good nights exchanged with the Traveler and Paimon, you were more than ready to head back home to rest. After a swift debrief on the commissions set aside for you today, you move out of the way and off to the side so you could flip through the four pages of individual commission information.

A typical site clearing of hilicurls, a balloon transport, and two other sites said to be infested with abyss mages and mitacurls. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in the form of a heavy sigh, you roll your neck and shoulders. It looked to be a very physical day, considering the commissions alone were already enough, they were hardly close in range to each other.

“My, what does this sunny morning lack that is making your shoulder’s slack so much,” the familiar voice of the ever lingering person on your mind spoke. Lowering your commissions and offering him a greeting smile, you watch as Kaeya marches his way down the stone steps of Mondstadt to you.

“The weather has nothing to do with it, I'll have you know.” When he finally gets to your sides, he silently offers his hand out for your daily commission sheets. You hand them over and resume your small effort of stretching. His eyes quickly scan sheet after sheet before he’s clicking his teeth and shaking his head.

“Having your run all the way to Stormbearer, to Windrise, down to Springvale and then back up to Wolvendom is just cruel.” The way his voice has that familiar lithe to it, you knew he only half meant what he said.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into the Traveler who can do me a favor by hitching me a ride on a Waypoint.” You quickly take your commissions back and fold them down twice before storing them away in your pack. Watching the sun’s orange morning hue fade into its daylight yellow was tell enough that you had to get moving or else you’d be rushing to get your work done. Kaeya walked you to the city gate and even across the bridge before you were ready to set off.

This is practically routine. You weren’t sure when it started, but at some point, Kaeya had started meeting you at the Adventurer’s Guild after receiving your daily commissions and would insist on escorting you out of the city. He claimed it was on the way of his morning walk to stretch his legs, but you weren’t sure how much you believed him. You allowed him to do it anyway since it always set up a good start to your day.

Getting a small amount of Kaeya’s time was something you would relish since you never wanted to impede on his busy schedule with the Knights. It was the small selfish part of you that wanted to capitalize on this so-called ‘alone’ time that lasted only a small piece of the day.

“Be careful,” Kaeya always tell you and you always nod back to him a simple ‘I will’ before he would watch you disappear down the worn, dirt paths. Your first destination would be Stormbearer Mountain it appears.

Most of Kaeya’s morning consisted of going over documents shoved on him courtesy of his position as one of the ten Captains within the knight’s ranks. With sighs echoing in his private workspace every few minutes and multiple tempting ideas of sneaking out without even processing the paperwork, he finally finished and approved the last document before placing it in a file on his desk that Jean would surely come and snag from him later.

Leaning back in his chair that would soon need the cushions replaced, he craned his neck to gaze out the tall window in his office. The sun was much higher in the sky than it was when he had arrived earlier that morning. His thoughts easily drifted to you and a frown found its way onto his lips.

“Are you doing alright?” Kaeya delicately asked to the air of solitude around him. You were more than capable to handle yourself. In truth, if you weren’t already associated with the Guild and kept so busy by them, Jean probably would’ve scouted you for the Knights instead. ‘Your skills are impressive, and the others could learn a lot from you’, that’s probably what Jean’s pitch would be. All true of course, sometimes the job of trying to train the lower ranking knights was more of a chore than a duty, once Kaeya would often get stuck with.

He'd be more than happy to spar with you instead any day.

Steering his gaze away from the window and moving it towards the ceiling, he traced the wooden beams above him with his single visible eye. He sighed again- this time not because of his now finished paperwork.

“Surely, they’d be in Windrise by now… right?” His fingers drummed against the arm of his chair before he was bringing his chin back down to lock onto his office door. His paperwork was done, so maybe…

Two knocks rapped against the thick door and Kaeya’s posture straightened out of habit. A muffled ‘Captain?’ heard behind it. He let his head sink as a small, defeated breath left his open mouth before correcting himself again.

“You can come in,” he answered. Guess his plans to sneak away were once again foiled.

By the time Kaeya made it out of HQ it was already late into the afternoon. Stretching after stepping foot out of the large entrance, he stepped down the short set of stone steps before making his way towards the front of the city. You must be back now, or close to the city at the very least. It had been almost the whole day, if you weren’t back yet he’d simply go on an unprompted adventure to ‘bump into you’. Luckily, there you were; standing in front of the Guild and talking to Katheryne once again. Although, the look of you was less than encouraging.

While you yourself seemed more or less fine, just from the distance between the top set of steps by Good Hunter to you at the Adventurer's Guild Reception, he could tell your commissions had worn you out today. It was no wonder considering the distance between them. Your clothes had clearly been fixed prior to you reentering the city since the dirt and stains on them were a clear indicator that you had your fair share of roughing up.

Kaeya can, and did mostly, dismiss this all, however. It was the serious look on Katheryne’s face and the way yours didn't show relief after a hard day's work like it normally would be. He started making his way towards you and started catching bits of the conversion you both were having.

“I deeply apologize, y/n, but it’s an Emergency Commission we just received.” The way Katheryne’s voice was coated in tension made Kaeya’s pace harden. When he had arrived at your side, his hand came up to rest on your back without his notice as he looked at the way you held your head in your hand like you were preventing an oncoming headache.

“What’s the problem?” Kaeya made it a point to look at you- directing the question at you and not Katheryne. Your hand dropped and you sighed with a shake of your head before looking at him.

“It’s nothing, just a last-minute Commission.”

“What? You just got back from your commissions, didn’t you?”

“It’s an Emergency. I can’t just brush it off.”

“Make someone else take it then.”

“No one else is available.”

“y/n.”

“Kaeya.”

The small verbal battle you both engaged in was empty and Kaeya knew he was playing a losing game. He let out a sigh before he finally turned to look at Katheryne who must have all the patience in the world for standing by and letting you both bicker until she was needed for something.

“What is the commission exactly?”

“Apparently, a Ruin Guard has been spotted near Springvale after a passing Adventurer accidentally triggered its detection sensors. The nearby residents are frightened it could march into someone’s territory and wreak havoc there.”

Kaeya pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand- the other still mindlessly resting on your back- as he sighed. This is indeed something that couldn’t be pushed off for someone else to take. When it comes to those old machines, who knows what could happen if they aren’t swiftly deactivated. The Captain was at an impasse; letting you go after already being exhausted from running around all day or tying you to one of the Guild’s posts and keeping you there until someone else passed by that Katheryne could snag instead.

“Fine,” Kaeya relented. His hand finally dropped from your back and crossed with his other arm over his chest. “I shall accompany you then.” He saw you open your mouth- probably to protest- but he didn’t let you. “Ah-ah,” he tutted at you, “no arguments. Let’s get moving.” He uncrosses his arms to grab your shoulders, spin you around and lightly push you to get your legs moving.

Luckily, Kaeya’s vision was extra compatible with your own. While your fight styles were different, the fact you had a hydro vision was very much a blessing. It was quiet easy work taking down a Ruin Guard that had been drenched in water then subsequently frozen. After picking up a few dropped items from the timeless machine, Kaeya had stood up and placed his hands on his hips as if proud of himself.

“Aren’t you happy I decided to tag along now? We made quick work of that Ruin Guard.”

You can only roll your eyes at the smoothtalker. Still, you quietly laugh at his antics all the same. Finally calling it a day in the middle of the field you had previously battled in with him, you lay down on the grass. You were already covered in sweat, dirt and other stains from your earlier commissions, so getting a little more on your clothes wasn’t a concern. You shut your eyes and took in the breeze you silently thanked Lord Barbatos for as you took in a deep breath, letting yourself decompress.

Kaeya stood over you, moving so his boots were on either side of your head and he was looking down at your relaxing face. With your eyes closed, you didn’t get to see the smile that was only ever present when you weren’t looking. The moment your eyes would open, you would only see his normal everyday grin. And open your eye did and oh how lovely they were. The evening glow did wonders for their color.

Evening. Yes, it is getting rather late now.

“Are you ready to head back now?” He asked and you nod. Sitting up, Kaeya offers to carry you back to the city on his back- which you decline. That didn’t stop the fact that you reentered Mondstadt securely resting on Kaeya’s back as he held you up with a slight bend to his posture and firm grip on your legs.

This routine would continue for as long as Kaeya’s luck would allow. He’d be the first to see you in the mornings before being the one to walk you out of the city and if he was lucky, he’d be the first to greet you back (not including Katheryn).

If Kaeya was lucky he would greet you back into the city and spend more time at your side. Reporting in with you to the Guild. Running a few errands like stopping by to purchase things from Blanche or getting your polearm enhanced or repaired at the smith.

If Kaeya was lucky, he would persuade you into getting dinner with him or dropping by the Cat’s Tail for some casual TCG matches when he was off duty.

If Kaeya was lucky, the conversation between you both would be flowing well enough that even if there was nothing left to do, he’d be privileged enough to walk you home or come inside to continue occupying your time until you fall asleep or push him out the door saying that he had to get up for work in the morning.

Today was not Kaeya’s lucky day. When he got up this morning, his routine to finding you was practically ingrained in his muscles and when he didn’t see you at the stone steps, city gates or the Guild’s reception, confusion crossed his brows. He casually took a seat on one of the nearby outside stools by the Cat’s Tail and waited until the time to clock in at HQ was growing closer. With hesitation, he got up and looked around for you once more just to see if maybe he could at least catch a glimpse of you rushing around to get a (rather late) start to the day.

He was antsy all day and he was astonished to find out that throwing a wrench in his morning threw off his day so much. Kaeya knew that seeing you first thing in the morning was quite a lovely way to start his day, but he didn’t know the extent in which it could affect the rest of it. Not exchanging a good morning with you or even saying his usual ‘be safe’ message at the edge of Mondstadt nagged at him.

Currently, he was sitting in a remote corner of the Favonious library, legs crossed as his rear was sat towards the front of the seat to make up for the fact his back was bent over the back of it. He rests a flimsy, paperback book over his face, the pages scent of old paper and ink invaded his nose and the feeling of them rubbed against his cheeks. One of his hands held it open with his thumb and pinky and the other arm was hanging uselessly at his side, his wrist bouncing against his vision from time to time just for something to interact with.

Underneath the book, his eye was closed. He had tried reading the passages in this particular book at least four times now, but the words just weren’t registering in his mind, so he had given up. He was left listless; certain he could easily fall asleep in this very position at any given time. Of course, it wasn’t often that Captain Kaeya would get much quiet time to himself anyways.

“Uh, what are you doing?” The voice of Paimon made Kaeya’s eye open under the book before he was pulling it down his face enough to only reveal that one eye. Seeing Paimon floating at the Traveler’s side made him slip the book off his face completely and shut it before setting it on the table in front of him. His posture was corrected as he sat up straighter and rolled his neck.

“Couldn't you tell? I was reading.”

“Paimon think’s you were slacking off.”

“Is that what it looked like?” He jokes as he pushes his chair back and stands up properly before placing one of his hands on his hips. “I would never be caught slacking off, you wound me.”

“We’ve heard that before,” Paimon sighs with a shake of her head. In the moment, Kaeya is reminded of the conversation he overheard before between you and the other two. The same time of day, the same location, the same two participants of that conversation.

“Say,” he says to gain both of their attention, “what do you think it is?” Kaeya’s exceptionally broad and unprecedented question left the two Outlanders confused. The way the Captain could almost see materialized question marks float around their heads was comical before he elaborated. “I’m asking about my artist, of course. Surely you must have your own idea, no?”

Both Traveler and Paimon’s mouth opened in shock.

“You were listening?!” Paimon shrieks before she is shushed by other people in the library for her volume.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Kaeya,” Traveler tells him as they cross their arms over their chest. Kaeya fakes a gasp before shaking his head and shrugging with his arms up.

“Eavesdropping? Why, I’d never.” He dropped his arms back to his sides. “I was simply in the area and didn’t want to interrupt such a compelling conversation topic. That would’ve been quite rude of me, wouldn’t you agree?” The looks he received were easily brushed off. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Well,” Paimon started, “didn’t y/n say it would be Mondstadt?”

“And? Do you agree with them?”

“Paimon doesn’t see a reason why not,” she shrugs in the air.

“I see,” Kaeya’s arm crosses over his chest before he’s resting his opposite elbow on it to cup his chin. His gaze shifts downward before he's blinking slowly, meaningfully. “I suppose I could give you half marks.”

“Half marks?!” Paimon whispers.

“What about ‘the people of Mondstadt?’” The Traveler interjects. Kaeya’s eye shoots back to them and his hand drops from his chin to resume a casual stance.

“That assumption is largely correct as well.” The smile he gives the two gives nothing away. It wasn’t clear if he was sincere about what he said or if he was just saying it to hear himself talk. “A mosaic is usually a large piece, yes? It would make sense for there to be multiple people taking part in such a project at some point I suppose.”

“You suppose? You’re just running us in circles here!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kaeya deflects with a lighthearted tone and short laugh.

“Fine! We get it!” Paimon huffs before the conversation devolves into little to nothing until he is parting ways with the two, leaving the library and ready to end the day that seemed to have lasted longer than usual. Despite having a rather lax day, he felt lethargic.

Yet, despite his lethargy, when he finally made it out of his day clothes and into his bed, all he could do was lay on top of his covers and stare at the ceiling. His eyepatch had been removed- just as always when he was in the confines of his home- and his long bangs covered the eye that was always so accustomed to the darkness. One of his legs was propped up on the mattress with the other stretched out and his arms were folded behind his head.

His mind was curious about a number of things all the time- so his racing thoughts weren’t unknown to him. Still, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind didn’t let up. Was not seeing you at all really that much of a clog in his daily life? It made him feel so off-set and that alone was enough to plant a seed of anxiety in his chest.

Kaeya sighs to himself and his ceiling before rolling to his side and letting his bangs slip across his face and reveal his always concealed eye between the blue strands. He closes his eyes and wills his mind to stop dwelling on menial things.

Heart and mind are difficult things to cooperate with one another though.

Kaeya Alberich couldn’t risk getting mixed up in too many personal things- it made his future even more murky and daunting than it already was.

After that one day of missing seeing you out before your commission, Kaeya tried to do it less on purpose. Maybe that was a message from the gods themselves that he needed to take a step back. If your very presence could affect his day to day life like it had, he needed to back off for his sake and yours. And while he didn’t see you off, he still would welcome you back any chance he saw you return to the city with a raised hand he would immediately tuck away again.

“I didn’t do anything to make you upset, did I?” Of course, you had noticed his sudden shift in nature.

“Of course not,” he tells you as sincerely as he could. His smile was strained on his lips and his nose felt like twitching from the sheer effort it took just to pull them up. From the unamused look you gave him at his answer, he knew you knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. Still, you just looked away from him and sighed. Kaeya was grateful you didn’t push the issue because a part of him was sure if you had, he would’ve spilled his guts about things he wasn’t sure of himself just yet.

The process of slowly taking steps away from you wasn’t pleasant for either party. Kaeya’s days had devolved into nothing but more boring paperwork and patrols he could do with his eye closed, and that would mean seeing nothing at all. The dull lag of the daytime was boring to him with nothing to do between his job and downtime he suddenly had. The Angels Share's atmosphere was a welcome comfort to his new, unpleasant routine- though, he could do without the looks from Diluc.

Meanwhile, you had felt the sting of dejection in your chest. You had come to the assumption that maybe Kaeya had finally taken action on your unspoken feelings for him and was politely telling you to take a hike. It was logical to you; a common everyday Adventurer probably couldn’t make it work out with one of the Knights’ Captains. His previous time spent with you was probably just a hindrance, a distraction from his real work, so this was good. He could focus on what was important, protecting Mondstadt.

Though, that mental pep talk didn’t make it hurt any less.

Just like Kaeya, you decided to bury yourself in your work. Taking commissions on top of any other field requests. Clearing hilicurl camps wasn’t something difficult and while the occasional Abyss Mage was a pain, it was all manageable. So, when your back to back jobs kept you out of the city for days at a time, that slowly became the norm for the citizens of Mondstadt.

It was only natural for no one to notice.

“Has it really been that long?!” Kaeya had been passing through the central square of Mondstadt when he heard the familiar shrill of Paimon. His interest took little to be piqued and he easily strut his way over. “And no one has tried looking for them yet?” Paimon and the Traveler were stuck in a conversation with Katheryne as is the norm for them nowadays when their travels bring them back to the City of Freedom. “Oohhh,” Paimon worries, “Paimon’s worried.”

“What’s the problem,” Kaeya interjects into the conversation. All eyes shift to him, his easy strides coming to a stop when he fully joins the group with his arms crossing over his chest. “My, what’s with all the long faces?”

“Kaeya!” Paimon screeches. “Oh, maybe you’ll know! Have you seen y/n around?” Kaeya’s chest tightens.

“Y/n? I’m afraid we’ve both been too wrapped up in our own duties recently. Sorry to disappoint.” The slight light of hope Paimon dawned dimmed and worry once again took over her features. The tension in his chest felt tighter, like a white-hot coil was entangling itself around his insides and replacing his ribcage. “Has something happened?” He asks slowly, making quite sure his voice doesn’t crack or waver. All his hard work to distance himself from you can’t unravel now; not when you aren’t even here.

“We aren’t sure,” Katheryne fills in. All eyes look to her as she repeats what she had just told the duo before Kaeya arrived. “Y/n had taken a rather dangerous commission the other day. It was a job that required them to explore and investigate some ruins that had been discovered behind a wall of rocks on Stormbearer. The commission should’ve well run its course by now, but we haven’t heard back from either the client or y/n, so some of us are beginning to worry.”

Kaeya’s fists clenched, but no one took notice of them under his cross-armed stance. He made sure to keep his face from giving himself away.

“Have you made the issue known to the Acting Grand Master?” He questions. Katheryne shakes her head.

“No, we haven’t. We had had planned on bringing it to her attention if y/n still doesn’t get in touch with us by this evening.”

“We should let Jean know right now!” Paimon insists and the Traveler easily nods in agreement. “What if they’re stuck in the ruins. Or- or hurt or something!” Paimon’s worry bleeds easily into her words like a fresh wound into water.

“The last thing we should do is panic,” Kaeya said hypocritically. His gut felt like a boiling cauldron with panic as the main ingredient. Still, his many years of being persuasive and aloof didn’t let any of that show.

Though, the off hand look the Traveler shot him made him doubt himself; they’ve been awfully diligent when it comes to reading him ever since his wild goose chase he sent them on not long after they arrived in Mondstadt. Or maybe it was just because they had more experience than he initially thought. Still, it almost made him squirm.

“Well, we’re going to go tell Jean!” Paimon declared, her small hands on her hips as she bobbed up and down in the air. Kaeya just shrugs indifferently, surely not making any moves to oppose them. With a small huff, Paimon and the Traveler take off towards the Knights Headquarters. When they were well out of earshot and sight, Kaeya’s cross arms drop and his gaze moves to the ever-open gate that showed the wilds outside of Mondstadt.

“Katheryne,” he almost whispers. “You said Stormbearer?”

Your vision was blurred when you opened your eyes from your, albeit useless, slumber. You had long since tucked yourself between a small alcove of debris and rock in the ruins you had agreed to investigate. Had you known the person who had commissioned this job was some ruin machine-obsessed loon, you wouldn’t had agreed so easily. A couple ruin guards aren’t a big deal, but adding their mechanical brethren- so to speak- on top of a nut job maintaining them the moment you have to step away to recoup, that's when things get tricky.

Your body had long since grown exhausted from using your Vision by excessively trying not to get killed. Luckily, the mad man only had his madness going for him, so hiding from his view was easy. Staying hidden from the machine’s censors was what worried you, but you had succeeded so far. Because of that very fact, however; you were reluctant to move. Beyond your weary body, hunger and thirst were starting to eat away at you too.

Having been in hiding with no ample moment to even try fleeing back to the city for additional aid, you had run through what little rations you had. Your gut ached with hunger pains and your throat had never felt dryer, still you weren’t backed up against the preverbal wall so much you threw all caution to the wind.

Your polearm had remained materialized as you kept it rested against your shoulder for ease of quick use should you require it. Your vision had never felt heavier from its placement on your person and your hands cramped from how tightly you had gripped your weapon’s staff. You let your head fall back into the rock behind you and let out a silent sigh.

In truth, you felt more foolish than injured or exhausted. You knew this commission sounded… odd, but you took it anyway. Anything to help distract your mind from the ever cloudy presence of Kaeya- or lack thereof.

Your small sliver of respite you found in your cove of rock and debris was beginning to quake and crumble… literally. Your eyes you hadn’t realized had dropped back down shoot open and between the crumbling dust that threatened to get into them, you could hear the engines of machines whirring above you. You scramble to get out into the open before your previously, temporary safety could crush you. Though, coming out meant that you would be more vulnerable than you’d prefer.

The moment your gaze lands on that familiar warm glow of the back of a Ruin Guard, you throw your polearm into its core, coating the blade with water from your Vision without much thought. The guard crackled with electricity as it malfunctioned and was brought to its metallic knees. Sprinting to its back to quickly retrieve your polearm, you made sure to use your Vision to drench its legs and feet just in case it got back up again. Perhaps the moisture would cause it to comically slip and buy you just a bit more time and maybe a chuckle or two.

It was odd though, aside from the now jagged whirring of the jittering machine in front of you- there was nothing else. No crazed man trying to jump you or sick another random machine of his on you for whatever cause. It was in fact quiet, and that quiet put you on edge. Your brain knew you needed to stay on guard, but the silence was starting to lull your body into a false sense of security you couldn’t trust.

Still, your mind that had been in fight mode for what should have been days now, had no chance against your weary body. Your grip on your polearm slips and the weapon clatters to the ground just before your knees did and your body slumped rather pathetically afterwards.

‘If you fall unconscious, you’ll die’, you mentally scold yourself. Trying to bully yourself into getting back up, keeping your eyes open, keeping your guard up. Still, your mind was beginning to feel as weak as your body. Thoughts swirled together into a mess of intangible words stuck in your mind and your sight was no better. Perhaps it was your delirium and exhaustion, but your body suddenly grew cold and you vaguely felt goosebumps raise on your skin like winter itself had bloomed in these ruins with you. Among the changes you felt externally, you swore you heard a muffled voice too.

Perhaps it was the mad man, the one who got you suckered into this stupid job. If it was, he could make quick work of you now since the last of your fight had disappeared taking out that Ruin Ruard core. The warmth you felt on your neck and cheek was the final thing you could mentally register before your body succumbed to its burdens.

‘Odd’, was the first thing that crossed your mind when you found yourself staring blankly up at a well maintained ceiling. You were sure that if you woke up again, and not gotten yourself killed or crushed, you’d be waking up to jagged rocks and mossy walls. So, the well furnished room you now occupied threw you for a loop- which your pounding head didn’t exactly take well.

The room you were in was familiar, and you were sure you’ve been here before, but your foggy mind couldn’t process where you were. The bed you were tucked into was soft and comforting, and with a wince the mattress gave when you push yourself to sit up. You were alone in the room and without much thought, you shuffle your legs out from under the blankets thrown over you to place your feet onto the floor and wobble up to your legs with the help of the bedside table acting as a- albeit less than desirable- crutch.

The door creaking open was almost mistaken by you for the sound of your sore joints straightening out, as humorous as that was to you since you let a brief, lighthearted laugh escape you in a huff. Then, with your sights on the ground, you noticed a shadow casted by light you don't remember being in the room with you before.

You follow the shadow along the hard floor covered with a single, purple rug until your eyes found a pair of all too familiar boots. Your aching body starts to feel anxious- a small wave of gooseflesh running across your exposed skin at the idea of Kaeya being in your proximity for the first time in a while. Still, regardless of how you hadn’t been able to squash your silly crush on him or properly prepare yourself for a possible rejection without even confessing- you were no coward.

With both hands tense on the bedside table, you raise your head to look at the blue haired man who had removed the fur, half-cape from his shoulder. It was strange seeing how empty his shoulder was without the extra fluff the fur provided. Still, it was nice to see him in his entirety again since it had been a while. The blacklight of the space behind him made it difficult to see his expression since the lights in the room you had woken up in had been turned off presumably for your ease of comfort.

“It’s been a while,” was the lamest thing that’s come out of your mouth in a while.

Of course it had been, you were both actively avoiding each other and practically the whole of Mondstadt picked up on it. Looking behind his shoulder you could only barely see corners of art pieces on the walls behind him and another rug that ran down the hall behind his heels. “Kaeya, am I at your house?” You ask, finally realizing where you recognized your surroundings from.

You’d been in his living room plenty of times visiting, but you had hardly been back in his room unless you were the one tasked with dragging him home from Angels Share and were generous enough to lug his body weight back to his bed. It was a rare occurrence since you were normally one to just dump him on the couch with a blanket and glass of water for his possible next morning hangover.

Kaeya never graced you with an answer before he was marching into the room. His bootsteps seem louder than usual on his hardwood floors of his enclosed room, but maybe that was just the headache. His hands shoot out to grab your shoulders and turn you towards him, your hands that had been on the wooden night table were effectively removed from its surface and now Kaeya’s grip was the only crutch you had for balance before your brain could full calibrate standing without swaying again.

“What on Teyvat were you thinking?!” He raised his voice and even in the dimly lit room with only light from the hall flooding in, you could easily see his expressions now. His brow was turned in a frown and his eye clouded with something you couldn’t pinpoint. It was a far cry from his normally suave and dismissive behavior. “Taking an obviously suspicious commission in ruins that hadn’t been officially investigated by the Knights? Seriously, you thought that was smart?!”

His temper only made your headache worse and in turn soured your already not-so-great mood. Reaching up to grab his arms like a hook for support, you verbally push back.

“I think I'm capable of handling things myself, you know? The Guild doesn’t need the Knights’ to babysit them for every little thing, and as a member of the Guild that applies to me too!”

“Oh yes, so capable you spontaneously disappear for days? Does that sound capable to you?”

“It does actually because I was handling things just fine by myself, not that it makes a difference to you.”

“You collapsed next to a Ruin Guard, y/n! What would you have done if it had restarted or if something else would have happened? Magically wake up and jump into battle again, because I have my doubts about that!”

“What is your problem, Kayea?!”

“You! You are my problem!”

Astonished, you scoff before rolling your eyes. It had been so long since you hashed it out like this with anyone, let alone Kaeya. It didn’t feel good, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Not hearing any retaliations from you, Kaeya guides you by the shoulders back against the edge of the mattress and pushes you to sit down again. You didn’t let yourself release the sigh of relief that you felt now that the weight of your own limbs was lifted- you wouldn’t give the Captain that satisfaction.

You expected him to let go of you, release your shoulders and march out of the room and maybe slam the door for good measure. Or maybe pace around the room before ordering you good enough to argue, so you would be good enough to get out of his hair. Out of the possibilities, the only thing that you predicted right was him releasing your shoulders.

Kaeya's hands left your shoulders before sliding down your arms and dropping to the mattress edge on either side of you. You were stunned when he dropped to his knees in front of you and the pressure of his forehead resting on your knee felt heavier than anything. Caging you with his arms and using his head as an anchor on your legs he had effectively trapped you. You kept your hands tucked into each other by your stomach, making sure your knuckles wouldn’t brush even a strand of his hair and you could feel the thin strap of his eyepatch leaving an intent on your skin.

“Kaeya,” you sighed heavily, his name leaving your lips like a weight.

“I tried,” his muffled voice sounds weak that your gaze softens at the abrupt tone change. “I did. I tried to fix it, but my problem is still you and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I have no idea what you’re-”

“Tell me what to do.” His words that interrupt yours cause you to furrow in confusion.

“What?”

“Tell me what to do,” he repeats with a strained voice. “I have so many things I need to do, choices but I- I don't want to. So, do it for me.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. What does all that even mean?”

“Make me choose you,” he sighs heavily before the hands of his that were placed on the mattress beside you move to lightly grab at your shirt like he was scared to touch you further. As if you’d push him away, scorn him for his actions and inactions alike. “Because I will. I just- I need someone- you, you need to-” His sentences never finish as his breaths become uneven. The hands that grip your shirt tighten to ball the fabric in his fists now. “I’m sorry.”

Never had you seen Kaeya, the ever debonair Calvary Captain who kept all his secrets stored into his chest, kneel and subsequently crumble like this to anyone- much less to you. Perhaps in the past he never talks about, Diluc had seen him so weak, but that would be where the witness list ends. You lift your hands from your lap and hover them over his hunched body that clung to you like a child; you were unsure if touching him would set him off or if he would recoil from you. Your silence only made his hands that ensnared your shirt tug on the fabric like an anchor keeping a ship from sailing away.

One of your hands reach to his head and your fingertips breach the blue tresses of his hair. His shoulders tensed and you almost snatched your hand away.

“Don’t,” he mumbled into your leg. You weren’t sure if he was saying not to touch him or not to pull away. So, you kept your hand half in his hair and unmoving.

You yelp when the tugging on your shirt flew into a harsh yank. The back of your knees that had previously been resting snug against the edge of the mattress were now well away with the back of your thighs replacing their spot. Closer to sliding right off the bed than comfortably sitting on it, Kaeya’s arms moved to wind around your waist and his face found a new home in your stomach as your arms hovered in the arm like a puppet's dangling from unused strings.

You could feel the weight of his words fall onto your legs by way of the tears leaving his eyes. You could feel it in the way his shoulders shake and the uneven breaths that warms your lap through his mouth.

“Kaeya,” you softly start, “what has gotten into you? I've never seen you act like this before.” You slowly lower your arms and place your palms on his shoulders gently so as to not startle him; you weren’t going to keep them in the air forever, they’re sore.

“I’m from Khaenri’ah, you know?” His voice strains as he lets out a pathetic laugh that’s damp with a web forming in his throat. He feels your hands on his shoulders twitch and his grip around you tightens so you have no chance of running from him.

“Kaeya, what-”

“My father abandoned me here with the intention of using me as a spy. I’ve only ever told Diluc, but when I did a lot happened and he left, abandoning me too. I don’t care about Khaenri’ah- not anymore- Mondstadt is my home. It’s where my friends are, my brother- even if he will never accept that role again. I can’t leave Mondstadt behind.”

“I’m sure Diluc doesn’t hate you, not like you think. He just- he’s set in his stubborn ways and isn’t good at communicating.” You decide to speak only on his mention of Diluc, since the new information of the land in which he supposedly hails was still processing in your mind.

Your previous comparison of Diluc to a rock briefly comes to mind at the mention of his stubbornnes. You nearly laugh at the thought, but now is definitely not the time.

“Please, please, make me choose you. Tell me to, order it of me, I don’t care. Just- don’t make me live without my artist. I can’t risk that again; I can’t take being abandoned again.”

“Artist? Kaeya, what are you talking about?” You felt like you didn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth.

There was a bout of silence after your question and the air felt heavy. You know Kaeya heard you, but he was reluctant to answer. Odd, considering the word vomit he had already coughed up in the last several minutes since he came into the room. Your hands start to move and lightly rub his shoulders over onto his neck, silently trying to coax him into talking more.

“I heard what you said to the Traveler.” You almost roll your eyes because that could be literally anything. Does he know how often you get the chance to actually run into them and Paimon? He is just trying to dodge the question and by habit you lightly swat at his head. A silent, ‘okay smartass’ to keep him going in the right direction. He almost scoffs into your lap for that one. “You called me a mosaic.” Oh. “You told the Traveler that ‘Mondstadt’ is my artist; they said the ‘People of Mondstadt’, but only I know who my artist truly is.” His arms around you twitch and you could almost feel a stitch of pain in your side from how long he's been effectively squeezing you. “My artist is you. It’s just you.”

The room is engulfed in a silence that feels heavy, yet... somehow also relieving. So much time recently had been the both of you dancing around the issues neither of you wanted to confront and all it took was you getting yourself into potentially mortal danger for days on end for the truth to come out. Kaeya knew you were someone important, but he didn’t realize just how heavy your permanent absence would be to him. Just the thought of possibly finding you in those ruins dead made his throat burn and ache like swallowing a ball of thorns.

“Kaeya.”

“I’m not lying,” his voice was strained, filled with fear of being labeled someone worthy of nothing.

“I wasn’t going to say you are,” the hand that had previously tapped his head now rested on his nest of blue hair. The gentle strokes of your palm against his scalp were soothing as he felt your breath move your stomach against his head. “I don't see why you would lie to me right now.” There was no doubt in your mind that everything that came out of his mouth was the unadulterated truth. You’ve never seen the suave captain bleed such vulnerability before.

You didn’t say anything else to him after that. You move your hands to his arms, unwinding yourself from them before pulling him pathetically up onto his own bed. Not even bothering to fix your position, you fall back onto the mattress with your feet hanging off the edge and he easily follows you. From the lighting provided from the hall, you notice his eyepatch string had loosened from all his face hiding and you take it upon yourself to tighten it- securing it back where it belongs. Your fingertips linger around its material for but a moment before sliding down to his cheek.

His eye is brimmed with tears that had stained his skin with tracks and swelling. He also wouldn’t make eye contact with you, and you roll your eyes endearingly at his childish whims. With you both laying sideways on the bed, feet and legs hanging and not even a blanket to cover up with, your thumb run over his skin. Kaeya is quick to reach for and latch his grip delicately onto your wrist to keep it there.

“‘M sorry,” he mutters again, sounding much more shy than he did before now that his face was in view of your gaze. You smile at him, knowing there was a long and meaningful talk in the near future.

“I know. Go to sleep.”

“But I-”

“Artists' orders,'' you chortle. He just scoffs and offers his own eye roll, but his cheek warms under your palm. His eye closes and he let out a deep breath before taking one back in and repeating.

“Stay until I open my eyes again.”

“I will.”

And you did.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #kaeya fluff #kaeya hurt/comfort #kaeya x y/n #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya comfort #kaeya fic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fic

198 notes · View notes

bear-remn · 11 months ago

Text

—Deadly eyes concept art v1 ₊ ⊹

Hi! I have been working on my content since i been very inspired and i already have art of my oc's in addition to the dibaboys' opinions about my girls! this is volume 1!

—KIRARI MASAMI ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

—diaboy´s thoughts on kirari ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

—shuu:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"such a weird woman, walking like a ghost and bothering me while a sleep.."

"terrible smell, i´d kill her if i could but its such a bother.."

"dont really care, not my problem.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"a lewd woman, not good with words but her eyes and expresions tell me everything i need to know.."

"a little anoying, but i dont want her to stop anoying me.."

"kinda funny and mean when it comes to people she dosent like, basically hot.."

—reiji:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"bad blood and bad manners, such a case.."

"doesnt talk much, but when she open her mouth she only say´s strange thing´s.."

"why would that person send her if her blood is´nt good quality? and as a sacrificial bride?.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"such a needy human, wanting me to hold her while she sleep... "

"even if she is´nt a worthy woman for me, in some ways she turn to be... what i never thought i´d crave..."

"maybe she is not teh worthy woman i always picture, but is enough to be by my side, taking my father´s place with her by my side.."

—ayato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"yours truly doesnt care for a bad blooded woman.."

"ok? and?.."

"if i ignore her then she isnt here..."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"her blood is ok? but not really yours truly favorite.."

"she thinks is so cool just because she plays basketball and do boxing, she looks rediculous..."

"It's a little outrageous that Mako prefers the company of that woman intead of my company, yours truly is too good for her anyways.."

—kanato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"who?..."

"such an unpleasant woman, teddy and i couldnt stand being around her.."

"the only good thing about that disgusthing woman are those eyes of her, shiny and clear... i dont have that kind of eyes in my collection hehe.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"still, the only good thing are those eyes, her blood is too thick, not really my taste.."

"she spend too much time with reiji, i hope that when she dies, reiji let´s me take her eyes hehe.."

"she is´nt as anoying as i thought, rather quiet.."

—laito:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"she acts like an abandoned cat, trying to isolate herself from others and acting tough, but cying in silence at nigth.."

"the messier the better.."

"sadly, her blood is terrible and her attitude is boring, what a same.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"reiji make her what she is now but, its odd that now they arent as close as before, funny right?.."

"i see her, how the others watch her as if we dont realize, they will not take her as they please, not that i care, but my big bro does.."

"kirari-chan doesnt make cutes faces as my pretty mako-chan, but i enjoy dessert.."

—subaru:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"the stink its unbreathable, her presence its disgusthing, she is disgusthing.."

"humans are so dumb, so sad and melancolic for no reason.."

"i dont care if she dies, as long as she doesnt make a mess.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"she become emotionally dependent of shu and reiji, but none of them seems to be interested in what she really is.."

"she often hides in the plants but in silence, i appreciate the silence.."

"she doesnt try to kill herself anymore.."

.・。.・゜✭ bonus ✭・゜・。.・

—kirari

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

about shu

"fucking arrogant bitch, hope he choke´s on his own saliva.."

about reiji

"cool, control maniac but kinda cool? acts like a father and speaks funny.."

about ayato

"think he is a big deal but really is just a spoiled brat with a pretty face.."

about kanato

"please never touch me.."

about laito

"fucking weirdo, a little hot without the hat but too scary, he appears out of nowhere everytime and looks like he knows things, dark things.."

about subaru

"pretty boy but those anger issues, idk, too much anger inside one person.."

kirari opinion of the diaboys when she recovers its a secret hehe :p

.・。.・゜✭ ty! ✭・゜・。.・

hope you guys like it! mako comes in the next concep art volume post! if you have any suggestion tell me! i´d appreciate it!

btw the cover was inspired on @ausd art, go check her work it´s precious!

105 notes · View notes

lovethisfatcryptid · 2 months ago

Text

Check out this cute shirt my friend bought me.

Ignore the terrible picture quality I'm in too much pain to care rn

#cryptid sighting #fat girls #thick thighs #girls with tattoos #tattooed girls

20 notes · View notes

stardustsides · 5 months ago

Text

Love is a Beach

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Patton and Janus broke up months ago. The problem? They still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. Not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement.

Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety

Content Warnings: Drinking/flashback to underage drinking, drunkenness, breakups, lmk if i missed anything!!

Word Count: ~2100

Author’s Note: The second chapter is here!! Writing the flashback in this chapter made me miss freshman year of college so bad actually i need to go back i fear.

Janus stood in the emptiness of the master bedroom and stared at the space where Patton had been. The late afternoon sun spilled across the polished hardwood floor, painting the room in a hazy gold. Muffled from downstairs, he could hear him telling Virgil that he would cook after all tonight, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. He knew from six years of being in a relationship with the man that he cooked under stress. Memories of coming home to their apartment to find Patton in the kitchen surrounded by trays upon trays of cookies came flooding back to him, and his heart gave a painful tug.

He blew out a careful, measured breath and sat on the corner of the bed. He hadn’t been lying—Patton really was a terrible actor, which provided two massive problems for Janus: one, because they had to keep the charade up all week, and two, because Janus secretly found Patton’s complete inability to lie one of his most endearing qualities.

Really, this had been a terrible idea to begin with, but when he had come over to the apartment to pick up his things, he couldn’t help but notice the deep circles under Patton’s puffy red eyes, his unkempt hair, his rumpled shirt. No matter how upset with each other they still were, when Patton had turned to look at him, the only thing that he wanted to do was close the space between them, take him into his arms, and smooth down his hair. Even now, he hated seeing him so upset. And so, he did the only thing that he could think to do:

Propose the world’s worst plan.

They still hadn’t told the others about the breakup yet. It was getting to the point where it was starting to worry Janus, so he could only imagine how much it was destroying Patton. If the bags under his eyes were any indication, he had been turning the question of how to tell them over and over in that worrywart way of his. And so, the plan was concocted: by keeping the act up until after their vacation, they both got to enjoy one final week of normalcy with their friends, and it gave them time to cool down enough that when they did break the news, they could at least present a united front.

And, though he wouldn’t admit it, the selfish part of him wanted to avoid the crushing finality of telling everyone for as long as possible.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then again, his brain had always seemed to turn to mush when it came to Patton.

The bastard was impossible not to adore.

And so, here he was, sitting on the edge of the bed that he would be sharing with his ex-boyfriend for the next week, in a lovely little house that he could so clearly picture the two of them sharing a life in, surrounded by all of their closest friends.

One week. That was all he had to get through.

One week, and then everything would change.

Dinner was, of course, delicious.

Janus twirled his spaghetti around his fork and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, situated directly next to Patton. He cut a sidelong glance at him—at the very least, he seemed a fraction less tense than a few hours ago, which he supposed was an improvement. He had been white-knuckling the steering wheel on the ride over.

His face was also prettily flushed, the way it always was after a few glasses of wine, which Janus was valiantly trying to ignore.

“This is wonderful, dear,” Janus said as naturally as he could. Patton started a little.

“Thank you!” He responded, the flush creeping down to his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. A small, traitorous part of Janus’s brain wondered how far down it went. “…honey.”

“I was thinking we could all head down to the beach at around ten tomorrow?” Roman cut in brightly. “Make some sandwiches, bring a cooler?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Virgil, picking at his salad. In spite of himself, Janus had to fight back a smile. Roman could have suggested they all walk over hot coals at six AM sharp, and Virgil would have readily agreed.

“Everyone good for margaritas after dinner?” Roman asked. He had worked as a bartender in college, and as such, always took it upon himself to make drinks for the group at large. Not that Janus complained. Roman knew exactly how Janus liked his drinks–syrupy sweet, the alcohol nearly undetectable–and scarcely teased him for it.

Patton nodded so emphatically that a bit of white wine from the glass that he was holding nearly sloshed over the side, and understanding hit Janus like a stone sinking in water. He’s planning on getting drunk.

Janus could hardly blame him–the thought had crossed his mind too, as a way to cope with the comically uncomfortable situation the two of them had found themselves in–but Patton was a notoriously chatty drunk.

The first time they had all drank together as a group was in freshman year, sitting in a cramped circle around Roman and Patton’s shared dorm room, playing some drinking game that Roman had found online and nursing some truly disgusting vodka mixers with whatever beverages they could scavenge from the vending machines. It had been two years before he and Patton had started dating, and at the time, Janus had been determinedly ignoring the way his stomach swooped at the sound of his laugh like a bird dipping and gliding in the air. He knew fully well from his older sister what happened to friend groups when two of the members started dating. Despite having only met in August, these were some of the closest friends that Janus had ever had, and he wasn’t willing to give it up on the off chance that Patton liked him back.

On his left, Logan took a shot of New Amsterdam, his face scrunching up in disgust as the others cheered. On his right, Patton, leaning against his dresser and eyes slightly unfocused, shushed them halfheartedly, mumbling something about keeping quiet for the RA. Remus reached to the deck of cards in the center of their lopsided circle, and drew the top one, crowing, “Queen!”

“Whaddoes that one do again?” Virgil asked, readjusting the weighted dinosaur from Patton’s bed he was holding in his lap. He hadn’t relinquished it all night.

“I gotta ask someone a question, then that person asks someone else a question, and so on. First person who doesn’t want to answer drinks. Logan–what’s the worst grade you’ve ever gotten in a class?”

Logan blushed beet red and glared down into his red solo cup, as if trying to divine the answer from his rancid blue Gatorade mixer. At last, he mumbled, “A B. Plus. In junior year English.”

They all roundly booed him.

Logan straightened up and cast his gaze around the circle. “Um…Patton. What is the worst thing you’ve done in the past week?”

Patton’s eyes immediately widened, and he looked guiltily down at the floor. “Yes’trday, I…killed a spider.”

“The horror,” said Remus.

“I didn’ mean to, it jus’ startled me!” Patton said, the alcohol slurring his words together. They had never gotten drunk together as a group before, and Janus suspected that this may be Patton’s first time getting drunk at all.

“‘S alright, Pat,” Virgil snorted, not much more sober than Patton was. “‘S your turn.”

Patton immediately perked up. “So I ask a question?”

“Yep!” Roman said from Patton’s other side.

“Can be anything,” Remus added.

Patton thought for a moment, then turned to Janus so suddenly he startled. Patton’s face was inches away from his, eyes glittering, a pretty flush on his cheeks. ”Janus!” he chirped, and nearly tipped forward into Janus’ lap. “Do you like me?”

The reaction was immediate. Remus choked on his drink, and Roman made a noise that was somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a delighted gasp. Logan’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Patton, and Virgil, despite his inebriation, tugged at Patton’s hand firmly and gave him a pointed glare, hissing, “Pat.”

Janus sat rooted to the spot, the world seeming to tip beneath him. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Patton, looking at him so earnestly with those melted chocolate eyes, his lips slightly parted. He was so close that Janus could count the freckles on his face.

He could feel the response on his tongue; could feel the shape of the words, the weight of them. He opened his mouth, and managed a humiliating sound that was something like a frog croaking, which made the twins laugh even harder.

Yes, his brain screamed at him. Yes, I do, and if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall in love with you, too.

Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

Now he sat on the couch, margarita in hand and trying his best to ignore the way his nerve endings lit up at every square inch of Patton’s body pressed against his side.

They were all a few drinks deep by now; the twins had insisted on playing drinking games, despite the fact that they were certainly getting too old for such things. Still, it was a welcome distraction: facing off against Roman and Virgil with Remus in a game of pong as Logan and Patton watched bemusedly from the couch was a welcome distraction. At some point, though, he had tapped out, swapping places with Logan, and now he found himself on the couch with Patton.

The room had gone pleasantly fuzzy around the edges; Janus closed his eyes, allowing himself to savor the feeling. His friends were together, the house was quaint and cozy, and Patton was leaning against him, his warmth as comforting as Janus remembered. He could almost pretend that everything was as it should be; that he and Patton were still together, and that they could sit like this again, curled up on each other, not having to worry about jumping back as if the other had burned them.

Janus shoved the thought away; it wasn’t fair to Patton to let himself pretend. They had broken up, and Patton had probably moved on by now. Regardless of whatever lingering feelings Janus still had for him, he needed to respect that.

Patton shifted, and his head lolled gently against Janus’ shoulder. He had been strangely quiet all night—at least he was keeping his lips sealed about the agreement—but Janus was being very much reminded what a cuddly drunk Patton was.

He supposed he should be grateful; if Patton hadn’t decided to sit next to him, it might have seemed suspicious. But him sitting here brought on a new host of problems, chief of which is that Janus would have given anything for the two of them to stay there forever.

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his mind. The breakup was his own fault, after all; if he had wanted this forever, then he should have stepped up when he had the chance. But still, that wouldn’t have been fair to Patton.

Things are better this way, he told himself firmly. He had been repeating the words over and over again for the past few months, hoping that one day, he’d believe them.

He shifted, and found himself nose-to-nose with Patton, who was blearily blinking up at him through long eyelashes. Janus didn’t know how long he had been staring at him like that.

“Hello,” Janus said, hoping that the flush in his cheeks could be chalked up to the alcohol. “Enjoying the party?”

“Mmmhm,” Patton mumbled sleepily. “Dr’nk too much.”

“I can see that.”

Patton’s brow furrowed, face scrunched up in a pout. “Mean.”

“Honest.” He could feel Patton’s soft curls tickling his chin. “Perhaps we should get you to bed.”

“No,” he whined. “‘M comfy.”

“You won’t be when you wake up on the couch tomorrow with a terrible hangover.”

He poked Janus in the arm. “You’re comfy.”

“Patton,” Janus said, sterner this time. This—whatever this was—couldn’t happen. “Come on, let’s get up.”

“You going to bed?” Roman asked from the pong table, wincing as Logan sank a shot into one of his cups.

“Mhm,” Janus said, looping an arm around a very reluctant Patton. “Someone had a bit too much to drink.”

“‘M fine,” Patton insisted, an argument that was made less convincing by the way he started hiccuping.

“Bed, Patton.”

Remus snorted. “Don’t let him trip up the stairs!” He called after them.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Janus said back easily, even as Patton stumbled over his own feet.

They were almost to the landing, Patton tucked against Janus’ side, when Janus heard him mumble, almost too quietly for him to hear it, “I wish you din’ break up with me.”

If Janus hadn’t been so focused on getting him safely to bed, he might have accidentally dropped him. A million emotions clawed their way through his body, filling up his heart: guilt, longing, anger towards himself.

He pushed them all down and readjusted Patton under his arm. “I promise, Patton. It’s better this way.”

TAGLIST: @bluejay-of-the-west @scare-amor @harmonialcollisions @emoprincey @dragonboots @just-my-interpretation @spicycreativity @infawrit10 @emophoenixreborn @6-paris-6 @thedeadandthedecaying @moceit @lily-janus @instantromannoodles @betamash @nandysparadox @halfhissandwich @sanderssidesthehouse @littlerat2 @giraffeboat

28 notes · View notes