#it's like a raccoon mask of ow

[stardustedknuckles]

You know, all of this eye strain and tension headache and migraine stuff ramped up when I finally ran out of my old regular contacts and started using the toric lens my eye doctor prescribed for my left eye. I have my glasses on today because it was getting so bad and my left eye is extremely annoyed with me. I keep feeling like it's refusing to focus until I manually "find" the muscle and force it to. I told her I didn't want astigmatism correction because I have the lowest possible astigmatism you can have and I have never had it compensated for. I didn't think anything of the toric lenses because it was six months before I ran out of regulars (don't ask how long I wear them for all of our sakes, it's way too long because they're fucking expensive) but damn if all this headache and light sensitivity shit didn't start after I gave in and wore the damn toric on my left eye.

And if that's the case it means my glasses are also pretty much non-viable long term because again, she put the astigmatism correction in the left eye and it kind of hurts. The whole point of the glasses was to have a place to relax my eyes away from the contacts, but I haven't yet managed to wear them longer than three days. I just get to feeling lightheaded and strange. I'd go without either but I literally cannot see, so.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - graveyard shift

The dinging of the door alerts Sarah of someone walking in, and she barely glances up from her phone to see who it is. It's past midnight and somehow her coworker John managed to convince her to take over his graveyard shift at their convenience store. He owes her one, because she's been standing here for an hour and nobody's come in.

Not a surprise to her - nobody likes to stay out past sundown in Amity Park, even after nearly three years of ghosts appearing all over the place.

But still, it happens sometimes. So she doesn't look up. The dinging bell just lets her know that it's not a ghost, and that's really all she can ask for. The last time she worked late and a ghost came in, she was cleaning the shelves from some weird goo for an hour.

However, the lack of footsteps in the store after a few seconds worries her enough that she forces her head to lift. And a frown weaves its way onto her face when she sees no one at the door, nor anyone in the closet aisles.

...Shit, was there really a ghost here? Can they ring door when they come in? Normally she sees them just phase right through. And normally they glow, bright and jarring that leaves a migraine building behind Sarah's eyes.

Her eyes quickly scan the shelves again, looking for anything out of place -- anyone with too many heads, or too many teeth, or snakes for hair. She's pretty sure a coworker saw that once when they were working graveyard.

But she still sees no one. Apprehension raises the hair on the back of her neck, and she straightens up from her lean against the counter. Fuuuck. Was this one of those... marshmallow ghosts? An animal ghost?

Sarah really does not want to have to fight off a three-eyed raccoon looking-thing with eagle feet. She's heard the horror stories. And there was no way to contact the Phantom or the Red Huntress to come pick it up -- and she wasn't gonna try her luck with the Drs. Fentons.

Her fingers itch for the broom hanging on the wall behind her. It probably won't do much against a mutant raccoon-ghost-monster, but it'll make her feel better.

There's a rustle and crinkle in the candy aisle, and Sarah's hands are curled around the broom before she could blink. Her heart beating in her chest. She walks out from the counter, the bristled end raised like a bat in the air as she creeps apprehensively towards the noise.

There's nothing there when she peers around the side, and the aisle shelves are tall enough that she can't see over them.

She raises the broom higher. Sarah was in softball. She could take out a raccoon-eagle-hybrid.. thing.... easily. She just... needs to pretend its a golf ball. Except golf isn't softball so that's a terrible comparison.

Oh god she was gonna get her face ripped off, wasn't she.

John so owes her one. So much.

Creeping down the aisle, she keeps her ears perked for any new sounds. But all she can really hear is the soft pop music playing on the store speakers -- chosen by yours truly from her own personal playlist -- and the hum of the freezers. Ugh. This was not good for her paranoia. Like, at all.

Sarah's down at the end of the aisle when she feels a quick set of taps on her shoulder. Her nerves are already shot, so she shrieks and whirls around on her foot, swinging the broom blindly.

Only to be met with sudden and blunt resistance. Blinking rapidly, Sarah stares up and sees a black gloved hand gripping the broom handle tightly, small white bandages peeking over the side around five fingers. Following the hand down connects it with an arm, and then a chest, and suddenly she's staring at a black hoodie and black jacket.

When she tilts her head up, Sarah comes face to face with the bone-white mask and the terrifying, unearthly green eyes of their local vigilante, the Phantom.

...Holy fuck. It was the Phantom.

He was taller than she initially thought. Was her jaw on the ground? Probably. It was flapping like a fish out of water. "I- uh, you-- buh--"

Slowly, the Phantom raised his free hand and wrapped it around the handle of the broom. Sarah watches, wide eyed still and stammering as he firmly plucked the broom out of her hands and turned to lean it against the shelves.

Something about him doing that must've kicked her brain back into gear, because the first thing that comes out of her mouth is; "Your eyes are really green."

And she was going to lock herself in the freezer in the back for that one. She feels her face grow hot with embarrassment, and the Phantom only looks at her blankly. Her eyes shift nervously. "Well, it's true."

It was! The green eyes of the Phantom was his most defining feature other than that unsettling mask he wore. Especially considering they were the same color as some of the ghosts. It was one of the many, many creepy things about the guy.

Looking at it gave her the same, faint headache as when she stared at a ghost for too long. So Sarah drops her gaze a little to avoid it.

The Phantom remains silent, but he raises his hands and signs something to her that she doesn't understand. Fuck, that's right. He didn't speak - and Sarah doesn't know any ASL.

Sarah cringes. "Sorry, I don't know ASL."

She can feel his burning green eyes boring into her, and he remains as silent as the grave as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a phone in a plain black case. She watches him turn it on -- or at least she assumes he does, there's a privacy protector covering the screen -- and type something into.

He holds it up to her face when he's done, and she squints at the screen. In the notes app, a small text reads; 'We're ready to pay.'

..Oh. This wasn't Sarah's night. Embarrassment flashes hot through her and she forces out a laugh in order to try and quell it, Phantom shoves the phone back into his pocket. "Oh! Oh, right! I'm sorry, I'll uh- get up to the front--" She stops in her tracks.

Wait. Did that message say 'we?'

She smiles nervously, tilting her head up at the Phantom as her brows thread together. "Um," she swallows dryly, "we?" Didn't... didn't the Phantom work alone?

As if startled, the Phantom jerks. And for the first time since he showed up, he blinks and turns around. Which personally, doesn't bode that well as the Phantom swivels his head from side to side like he's looking for someone.

Sarah thinks, after the Phantom stalks up to the end of the aisle and looks around, she hears him sigh. And when he walks back, he snatches the broom with an elegant twist and knocks it against the shelves.

Thud, thud, thud!

There's very, very quiet shuffling that Sarah would have missed if she hadn't been looking for it, and then silence for a few seconds, before suddenly there's a small child pushing past her side and over to the Phantom.

And in the process, scaring the shit out of Sarah.

She squeaks and jumps, nearly tripping over her own feet as the child makes a spot next to the Phantom's side. "Where did you come from?!" She says, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

The child says nothing, just stares at her through a creepy bone-white mask reminiscent of the Phantom's. Although unlike the Phantom, he was wearing some... kind of... dark red ninja outfit?

Sarah really wasn't quite sure. It was partially covered by a jacket that clearly belonged to the Phantom and with the sleeves rolled up multiple times to his elbows. The jacket alone nearly obscured the sword attached to his hip.

...Why the hell did the child have a sword.

She looks between Phantom and the child, at a loss for words. Why-- why did the Phantom have a kid with him, why was the kid wearing a mask like his.

"You have a child with you." Sarah says bluntly, her voice flat. It betrays how shocked she feels. The Phantom doesn't say anything, as she should have expected, but he does nod shortly.

The child bristles slightly, but says nothing. Part of his mouth was uncovered, and she watched it twist downward into a scowl at her. Unlike the Phantom, his eyes were not green. She couldn't see his eyes at all, actually. They were shadowed by the mask.

There's the sound of paper thwipping, and like a magician pulling out a card, the Phantom holds out a note card to her. He stares, expectantly, and Sarah reluctantly takes it.

Written in neat writing and bold sharpie are the words; "This is Wraith."

...And that's it. Sarah glances up at Phantom. Then at the supposed 'Wraith'. Then back at Phantom. "You're bringing a child with you to ghost hunt?" She asks, and okay, maybe she's not able to hide all of the judgement leaking into her voice. "And you gave him a sword?"

The Phantom stares at her blankly, or well, probably blankly. All of his expressions are unreadable with the mask he wears. But the kid, Wraith, bristles again like a stray cat. His scowl deepens, he puffs up, and he opens his mouth like he's about to say something.

...Only for the Phantom to immediately snap his hand out and cover his mouth. Wraith makes an angry sound, and Phantom drags the boy into his side, seemingly nonplussed as he twists his wrist and pulls another note card out of nowhere.

"He is perfectly capable of handling himself." The card reads, and then continues; "I would not have been able to stop him anyways. Wraith would have followed me regardless."

Did he have these prepared?

Best not to question it, Sarah decides. The Phantom has always been strange. So she just nods mutely and stuffs the two notecards into her back pocket. "Okay," she says, and moves around the Phantom. "I'll check you out up front."

[gremlinscomics]

~Injury Fic List~

I would love to see you turn either 27 or 30 into a crack fic

A lil challenge for you >:D (evil laughter)

[pushes up glasses] 27 you say? Challenge accepted-

27) "Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid."

When Casey had heard something slam against her living room window, she’d assumed it was a large bird, and was sorely disappointed to discover it wasn’t.

It was just a teenager from the future.

It also isn’t technically ‘her’ living room, it’s the living room of Baron Draxum, who’s guest room she’d annexed after her own home had been demolished in the Krang invasion. But the fact still stands that, her home or not, her off brand, future counterpart should not be face-planting into its glass panes.

She shoves the window open swiftly, sticking her head out to find CJ in his civilian street clothes hunched over against the railing of the fire-escape, clutching his gut, hands stained red. His hockey mask, a helm eerily similar to her own, is skewed on the top of his abhorrent mullet.

“Future boy?”

“Mo- Cassandra!?” He gawks in surprise, “What-”

“Are you injured?”

Wordlessly, and with some unappreciated attitude, he lifts his hand to reveal a puncture in his torso, face deadpan. Nothing too big or deep, but probably still painful.

“We will fix this!” Casey cries as soon as she registers the red sap leaking from his new orifice, already blindly reaching for the first aid kit they keep next to the window.

“Why do you have that right there?” CJ asks, eyeing the red box distrustfully, shoulders shaking.

“Do not ask questions.”

Casey will not admit that Draxum put it there after Casey herself kept coming through the window injured, so as to not stain the carpeting in the front hallway.

She pops the top off and tears open a packet of gauze with her teeth as CJ tries to worm away, muttering something about ‘unhygenic’-ness.

“I don’t need your help!” He argues as Casey wrestles his hoodie up so she can see his stomach properly, “HEY-!”

“Hold still-” She orders, moving quickly, like she is trying to bandage a feral raccoon before it realizes what’s happening. She loops the cotton wrapping around his waist and he yelps in discomfort, “Let me fix your injuries!”

“Please don’t-” She jostles the wound slightly and his words cut off abruptly; leaving him squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his head back with a grimace, “Ow.”

“Breathe... breathe.” Casey does her best to comfort the teen as she tightens the bandages around his stomach. Man, she can’t believe the Foot Clan didn’t want her to be a medic, she’s a natural at this. “Look at the stars, kid." 

“We're almost the same age.” CJ shoots back through gritted teeth, chest rising and falling unevenly. "And what stars?"

“You can’t see the stars?” Her hands falter, “Are you concussed as well? Let me see!”

“You can’t see a concussion-” CJ cringes as Casey grabs his face, wrenching it towards her, “Get- Get off of me!”

“Never-!” She continues, turning it in the faint light of the window, “Does your head hurt? Seeing double? Er-” What are the other side effects of a head injury, “Cramps? Mood swings?”

“Those aren’t concussion symptoms!” He hisses, clawing at Casey's wrists, trying in vain to free himself, “Let me-” He lifts up his boot and plants it square in her chest, “go!”

Casey lands square on her back, impressed by the strength of the scrawny kids' kick, yet furious at the way it sent her flat against the metal grating beneath them.

She blinks up at the sky and her body goes rigid.

“Lesser-Jones!” She shoots back upwards swiftly and seizes CJ by the shoulders, “I also cannot see the stars! I too might be concussed, we should contact April for assistance!”

“How would you be concussed!?” CJ again tries to free himself from her grasp, this time by just weakly thrashing left and right, “You’ve been home all night!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Spirits above-” He places his own hands firmly on Caseys shoulders and shakes her until she loosens her grip, “Neither of us have a concussion!”

“That sounds like something someone with a concussion would say-”

“NO.” He snaps in irritation before slumping back against the fire escape, only held up by Caseys grip on the collar of his hoodie, “There’s smog and light pollution from the city blocking the stars. No one’s concussed, the stars are just really hard to see…”

Ah, pollution, Casey might have heard a thing or two about that.

“So you’re fine?”

“I’m not fine I got shanked in the gut-” CJ huffs, quickly backpedaling when Casey reaches for the first aid kit again, “Yes, wait, I’m fine. I was going to ask Miss Carole to help.”

Casey’s chest swells with pride, “But you came to me for aid instead?”

“No-” CJ staggers to his feet with labored breathing, “I landed on the wrong fire escape, she’s the one right below, remember?”

Oh. Casey supposes it is true that April lives just downstairs and that, by extension, CJ and April's mother live there as well, but she still would like to pretend CJ came to her for help because she’s a fellow Jones, not because he got lost.

“I suppose that is logical…” She mumbles under her breath.

“Yeah-” CJ grips the railing and swings one leg over the side, “I’m gonna go now…”

“Fine.” Casey waves him away, “You’re dismissed.”

CJ frowns slightly, “Cool… See you around, Cassandra. I guess…” 

Then he’s gone, dropping down and landing on the platform below them with a distant, metallic ‘thud’.

Casey can hear the window below open and CJ clamber through, she can hear a shocked gasp and distant voices clamoring, and she listens to them until someone finally closes CJ’s makeshift entrance, leaving her alone with the thousands of other noises in New York.

She looks up at the sky with a huff, angered at the fact that all she can see are smudges of gray and black. 

Smog and light pollution, huh? She’ll need to do more research on these things, maybe figure out how to banish them from this realm before more people are deceived into believing they’ve contracted head trauma.

Yeah… Even if she’s not injured on a fire escape, bleeding profusely, it still seems like it’d be peaceful to just go out and see the sky on a clear evening.

She’d like to be able to look at the stars.

~~~~~~

Thanks for the ask Crow, tons of fun to write our gal! Mayhaps I will do 30 as well, we shall see >:)

[lunaetis]

@starspurn asked :

"ah, miss eden. how pleasant to see you again. a moment of your time, if you will?" penacony's dreamscape is vast and bright, a shiny play pen for those who'd while away their hours amongst the supposed splendor. aventurine's on the clock, but even he spared a moment to blow off steam at the slot machines. his prize, a large stuffed toy, is not to his own taste. he'd sooner offer it to another. "would you accept this gift?" whether it's accepted or not, he bends to press a brief and chaste kiss to the back of her hand. "and ... do think about my offer of friendship, hm?"

inbox call. || always accepting

─「エデン」─  the TRAILBLAZER had been going back to this particular slot machine for a few days, now, having her eyes set on the large stuffed animal with an adorable silly little face. she was determined to win it, scouring around to collect the tokens needed. however, LADY LUCK wasn't liking her all that much. many days she tried and failed to get the said price, and today marked a whole week of her attempt in winning the item.

                only to see the LARGE STUFFED RACCOON she had been working hard to get a hold of within the arms of a certain risk taker.

                " AH !! " eyes wide, gloved digits pointing at the silly raccoon he had in hold even before his greeting was registered into her mind. how did he get it !? she probably had blown through her allowance and even some of the TOKENS she managed to find throughout her exploration within the dreamscape. eden had lost count of how many she used while aiming for that stuffed raccoon. and he got it !?

                whether it was his intention or a simple coincidence to give a peace offering gift, eden's aureate hues lit up the moment he offered the plush to her. it was difficult to mask her EXCITEMENT even when a part of her was yelling to not make it too obvious. pulling the soft plush towards her, the chaste kiss he placed to the back of her hand came as a SURPRISE. with one arm hugging the stuffed raccoon towards her and she buried the bottom half of her face into its head. damn. it's so soft.

                " thank you. " did this count as a bribe ? perhaps. whether he meant it to be one or not, it was AN EFFECTIVE MOVE on his end. luck was certainly on his side. the trailblazer didn't like owing someone, whether it be a favor or a gift, so her gloved digits reached out to grab his wrist. all the while, she held the raccoon plush to her protectively. " what is it you need from me ? "

[steven1123x]

Behind The Scenes - Chapter 14:Meeting New Friends

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“Mom, Dad! can I go to the arcade?” a voice asked them.

Steven saw an arcade across the boardwalk in Santa Monica Pier. He, Garnet, Rose, and Greg were all at the pier. Rose and Greg both nod and they let him go, Steven opens the door and walked in, Greg walks in after him so he can hand him cash for a game card. The boy gives the woman the money and she hands him his game card.

“Thank you,” he said. Steven started playing games, he played Ski Ball, as two human-like animals walked up, Steven looked at them

The man – or animal. is a six-foot-tall, skinny, and anthropomorphic Blue jay. The upper portion of his head, wings, tail feathers, and back are mostly blue, while the lower portion of his head and chest are white with a faint, blue line down the length of his chest. A thick, curved black marking is on each side of his head, around where his ears would be. Two white lines are found on both of his wings with two thinner, black lines on each of his fingers and one stripe on each of his thumbs, and three tail feathers, each with two black stripes. Mordecai's legs are gray with black stripes across the width and two toes. Like most blue jays, he has curved, crested blue feathers, or "hair", on his head.

The other male is a short, anthropomorphic raccoon with short, spiky hair. He has dark brown circles around his eyes which is a facial mask, like a normal raccoon would usually have. His body and hair are brown with small, darker brown lines to show the thickness of the fur. The underside of his snout, chest, and stomach, are gray. He also has a long tail with six dark brown stripes on it, and three pointed toes on both of his feet.

“Hi, what are your names?” Steven asked trying to be friendly with them.

"I’m Mordecai and this is my friend, Rigby. What’s your name?”

“Steven.” He said, extending his hand out, Mordecai took his hand and shook Steven’s. Steven smiles. “Wanna play with us?” Rigby asked the boy.

“Yeah!” Steven chirped.

Mordecai, Rigby, and Steven all go to a racing simulator and they race in Mario Kart.

“I’ll be Mario, Rigby. You can be Toad.”

“Ughhhh! Your ALAWAYS Mario!” Rigby complained.

“Too bad!”

“Let’s play punches for it!”

“No, Mordecai, you sent me to the hospital last month when we played at your house!”

“Because you're fragile and soft, like a baby, OHHHHH!”

“STOP TALKING!”

“Admit it, dude.”

“MORDECAI!”

“What, dude? It’s true, remember back in our dorm room?”

“Ughhhh, yes! And you still owe me a new PlayStation by the way!” Mordecai glared at his friend. He, Steven, and Rigby all played Mario Kart Arcade GP.

Rose was playing some of the arcade games as well. (she bought a game card for herself) and she was playing a shooter.

“Woah, you're good!” a boy said, walking up in her direction, Rose was focused on shooting the zombies in the game.

“Aw come on Mordecai, let’s play again,” Rigby said. Mordecai got up from the chair that he was sitting in and stretched. “Come on, dude. I beat you guys in ten races now. Let’s do something else, why won’t we let Steven decide.”

“Ughhhh! finnnne, Steven what do you want to do?” Rigby asked sounding uninterested in what the boy would want to do.” Mordecai punched him hard in the stomach. “Ah, owwwww!” Rigby groaned.

The blue jay glared at the raccoon. “Okay, fine! what do you want to do, Steven.” Rigby said with more enthusiasm in his voice.

“Let’s play Guitar Hero!”

“Aw, what! that’s a two-player game!”

“Rigby! do you want to get punched again!”

“Fiiiiine!” he groaned as they approached the game. Guitar Hero Arcade. Steven grabbed the guitar, Mordecai grabbed the other one and put it on his body, he used his game card to skip it into the game so it could read it, Steven did the same and they went against each other.

“What song do you want to do, Steven?” he asked. Steven went down the list and found a song, Almost Easy Avenged Sevenfold, 2007.

“I love this song!” Steven said, with stars in his eyes. Mordecai pressed the green button and picked that one too. Steven chose hard mode and Mordecai also chose that.

“You can play on hard mode?” Rigby scoffed.

“Ignore him, he only knows easy mode.”

“STOP TALKING!” Rigby screamed at his friend. Rigby pulls out his phone and sees a text from Eileen. She was parking.

“Mordecai, Elieen is parking with Margret, I’ll tell them where we are.”

He ignored him, Rigby scoffed got on all fours, and bolted for the doors of the arcade.

“Let’s play,” Steven said, raising his guitar and playing the song.

Meanwhile, Rigby saw a Red robin and mole enter.

Marget was an anthropomorphic robin in her early 20s. She has red and white feathers, with the lower portion of her head and the front of her body being white and her hair, arms, back, and tail feathers being red, with a brown, comma-shaped marking on each side of her head. She has a gray, curved beak, and long, skinny gray legs with two toes and skinny black stripes. She also has long eyelashes. Similar to Mordecai she has crested hair, albeit in a slightly longer and curved style.

Eileen is a 3'6" mole girl in her early 20s with tan fur. However, her appearance is very humanoid, excluding her toes and tail. She wears red round glasses and has two eyelashes on each of her eyes.

“Hey guys,” Rigby said.

The raccoon saw them. “Hey, Rigby. where is Mordecai?” Margret asked him.

“Oh, he’s playing Guitar Hero Arcade,” he said walking with them to where Mordecai and Steven both were. Margret and Eileen saw their friend playing the arcade game with a small child, they guessed that he was about five years old.

When the song finished, they both got five stars. “OH YEAH!” Mordecai said as they high-fived each other. Steven smiled as they both turned and looked.

“Margret, hi!” Mordecai said, Steven took the guitar off and put it back in the stand.

“Hey!” Margret said hugging her friend.

“Who’s this?” she asked.

“Hi, my name’s Steven,” he said.

“You're so cute!” Margret said, Eileen smiles. Steven smiles also “Thank you.”

“Hey Steven, Is that your mom?” Margret asked staring at a large woman with large pink ringlet hair. Steven nods. “Well your mom is beautiful,” she said. Steven smiled. Rose walked up.

“Steven, are-oh, hello.”

“Hi.” they all say at the same time.

“You're very beautiful,” Margret said.

“Well, thank you.”

Margret nods and all four of them leave.

“You ready to go, Steven?” Rose asked. Steven nods and they walk out of the arcade together to meet up with Garnet and Greg. They had ice cream cones in their hands.

“Can we get ice cream too, mom?” Steven asked. Rose nodded and walked over to the ice cream stand. Steven and Rose grabbed their ice cream and they walked back to Greg and Garnet. Greg got a text from someone. He took out his phone and saw the text:

Dad

Hey, Greg. I heard that you're in LA, why won’t you come to the house for dinner tonight?

Greg opened the message and texted him back. They were coming to dinner at his parent's house.

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Greg and Rose were changing. Rose wore a pair of pink jeans and a white crop top that showed her gem. Rose grabbed her shoes and put them on.

“You look beautiful, Rose,” Greg said, walking up and hugging her from behind. Rose smiled and kissed her husband. Greg smiled.

“Even in high tops I’m shorter than you,” Greg said, laughing.

“Oh yeah, you should see me in heels.”

“Noted.”

Greg checks himself once over, he wears a blue button-up shirt, a pair of black jeans, and white sneakers.

“Stars, you look amazing Greg.”

“And you look stunning, Rose.” He said, kissing her. Greg broke the kiss and walked out of the guest bedroom. “Steven?”

Greg knocks on Steven’s door.

“Come in!” Steven said. Greg opens the door and sees his son slip his shirt over his head.

“Oh, you're getting dressed, I’ll wait until you're done.” Steven nodded and got dressed, Steven slipped on his vans and grabbed his black Pikachu hoodie. He opened the door and walked out of the room, he went to the living room and saw his father, sitting on the couch.

“You ready, Schtu-ball?” Steven nods.

“Yeah, where’s mom?”

“She’s coming.” Steven saw his mother walk downstairs. Steven had stars in his eyes because of how pretty his mom looked.

“Mom, you look so pretty!” Steven said

“Thank you, Steven. you look handsome too,” she said, holding her pink Eevee jacket on her arm. She also held a little black handbag. They stepped out of the house from the garage and got into their cab.

“Hey, mom. where is Garnet?” Steven asked, closing the door after struggling to get inside because of his height difference.

“She’s out in Hollywood Bulivard with Pearl,” Rose said, Greg nodded.

Greg gave the cab driver the address and they were off to Hollywood Hills.

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Steven sees a modern, multi-level house with a sleek and contemporary architectural design. The house stands out with its large glass windows allowing abundant natural light and a seamless connection between the indoors and outdoors. Its flat roof enhances the modern aesthetic of the structure.

Surrounded by a lush, well-maintained garden, the property features various shrubs, trees, and well-manicured lawn areas. The outdoor space is designed to complement the luxurious feel of the house, offering a spacious pool and lounging area. This outdoor oasis contributes to the overall upscale and open ambiance of the property.

“Here’s your stop, have a good night guys!” he said, driving off, Greg walked up to the door and knocked.

A woman opened the door and she saw Greg saw his mother standing in the house a young-looking individual with long, dark hair and light-colored eyes. Her gaze is direct, suggesting confidence and engagement. The neutral expression on her face could convey a sense of joy. once she saw her son, The soft, natural lighting enhanced her features, showcasing her beauty and creating a gentle, flattering effect. Additionally, her choice of a light-colored top could suggest a preference for simplicity or a desire to present a clean, polished look. The blurred background effectively isolates the woman.

“Oh my god, Greg, is that you? Tony!” The woman said, hugging her son.

A man walked out of the kitchen holding a pair of tongues in his hand. “What is it, Misty? The—“

The man that Steven saw has long, light-colored hair that extends beyond his shoulders. He sports a thick, full beard and mustache that matches the color of his hair. His eyes are described as striking and prominent, suggesting they stand out. The man is seen wearing a dark-colored top, adding to his rugged and stylish appearance. The neutral background emphasizes his face and hair. Overall, the man appears to have a captivating and rugged look enhanced by his facial features and style.

“Hey, Greg!” the man by the name of Tony said, giving his son a big hug. Greg hugs his father. Tony gasped and saw Steven.

“Oh my goodness, is that Steven Quartz Universe!” he asked picking the boy off the floor and holding him up like Simba. Steven smiles and laughs. Rose smiles then, Misty walks up and holds both of her hands.

“How are you? how’s your business!”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t get the loan, I’m trying to get a job in the city.”

Misty was sad. “So your dream of owning a bakery fell flat.”

“Yeah… They don’t like ‘my kind ’ very much. Like what is that supposed to mean?! They don’t have to be racist against me, or alien kind in general!”

“That has always been a thing forever. Don’t beat yourself over it, honey.” Rose nods. She read up about it one day.

“You're right, I have to keep trying.”

Rose nods. They all sat on the couch, Tony walked up.

“Hey, Misty, could you help me?”

“With what, Tony?” Misty said, walking into the kitchen. Rose and Greg both looked at Steven, Steven was sitting on Rose’s lap

“So. How are you guys?” Rose asked Greg’s parents. She knew that they had been busy promoting their new album.

“Oh, you know here and there,” Misty said. Steven looked around and found a guitar sitting on a stand.

“Hey, Dad?” Steven asked. Greg looked at Steven stood up and knelt to his level.

“What’s up, Steven?”

“Is this your guitar?” he asked, Greg looked at the red and white electric guitar sitting on the stand and smiled/.

“No, that’s my mom’s.”

“Can I see yours?” Steven asked, Greg smiled and nodded. They both went upstairs to a closed bedroom door.

Steven was surprised and had stars in his eyes as he saw his father’s childhood bedroom. A modern and stylish room with a unique blend of elements and decor. The room is anchored by a bed featuring a black duvet with a striking red blanket draped over one side. At the foot of the bed lies a black-and-white striped rug, adding a touch of pattern and contrast to the space.

On one side of the bed, there is a blue ottoman, accompanied by a black amplifier and what seems to be a rolled-up poster or mat resting on top. Adjacent to this setup, a large wooden acoustic guitar hangs prominently on the wall, serving as a focal point and suggesting a passion for music within the room's inhabitants.

The walls of the room are adorned with shelves showcasing various items such as miniature skateboard memorabilia, books, and decorative pieces, adding personality and charm to the space. Two pennants, one above each window, contribute to the room's eclectic and personalized aesthetic.

A pop of color is introduced through a blue horizontal stripe running across the middle. Steven sees one of those giant TVs that they have in the beach house. He also saw that the floors were carpeted, and shelves of CDs and albums of vinyl records sat on his desk, Steven looked through the stack of vinyl records, he had everything, ranging from The Beatles to Elvis Presley.

“Woooah!” Steven said, picking one up and looking at it.

“Woah, careful with that kiddo,” Greg said, walking over to see his son holding a record in his hands.

“This takes me back! The Beetles were my favorite band growing up!”

“Dad, when were you born again?”

“1972 why?”

“Oh, I thought you were born in the eighties.”

“Well, if I was born then, I would’ve been seventeen when I met your mother, and I would’ve been twenty-two when we had you.”

“Didn’t you meet her at twenty-two?” Greg nodded.

“Oh, cool,” he said. Greg nodded opened his closet and gasped.

“I found it!” he said, pulling out a long case, the case had stickers of all the shows he’s played at. Steven looked at the case and saw that he’d played in Florida, he had never visited, he just wanted to for the theme parks in Orlando and that’s it.

Steven looked as Greg undid the clips of the case, Steven saw an all-white electric guitar sitting inside.

“Wooooah!” Steven said as his father picked it up by the neck and showed it to him.

“It’s awesome!” Steven said. Greg smiled and put his hand on his curly hair.

“You like it, little dude?” Steven nods, Greg has an idea. “How would you like to play it?”

“Wait… No way! I can play it?” Greg nods.

“Yeah, but you have to be careful with it,” he told his son. Steven nods then they walked out of the room, Greg carried both the guitar and amplifier so Steven wouldn’t drop it.

Greg walks downstairs, and Steven follows him. Tony and Misty look. Greg gave Steven his guitar when he sat on the couch, He plugged his guitar and amp and then turned it on.

Steven played a song called Open Your Heart by Crush 40. Greg and Rose sat and listened to his son play.

“Guys dinner’s ready,” Tony said. Greg removed the strap from his son’s neck and set it on the couch for now. They all sat down to eat.

🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬

The trio went back to Garnet’s house, maybe tomorrow they were going to go to the Hollywood Walk Of Fame with Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl, they didn’t know exactly what they were going to do yet, but they had some ideas about what they might do while they're here in California.

🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬🎥 🎬

A\N: Hi guys, I am SO SORRY this took so long, but…I had writer’s block for this chapter towards the end. I don’t know why but, I did. I’m back now.

P.S. This Saturday is my birthday. So you can wish me a Happy Birthday!

[midori-laboratories]

Ashes In The Fall - Chapter 25: What We Left Behind II

Book 2 of the Calendula Chronicles

Resident evil, Wesker X OC

Story Summary: Marigold Ashford escaped the mansion, only to face new incarceration with a familiar jailor. She may yet have to make a deal with the devil, if she can unearth what this Faustian bargain would cost her.

There is always something left to lose.

Chapter summary: Raccoon CIty lies in ruins, and everyone is finally catching their breath. Now what?

October 3, 1998

Ada Wong stirred, then opened her eyes to the mid-morning light streaming g through her window. The recovery wing at the HCF facility she’d been transferred to was reasonably upscale, by hospital standards. A swath of country estate, completed with trails, manicured groves of trees, and ponds, was visible out the window.

A small card had been set on her nightstand. More orders? Ada picked it up to find that it was an actual embossed greeting card, advising her to Get Well Soon in a spidery scrawl. The plain card was signed with the initials MA. Ada studied the handwriting thoughtfully. The woman who had provided them cover at the RPD station hadn’t bothered to refute any insinuations of her identity.

An attendant was putting away sheets on the other side of the room and finally noticed that she was awake. They noted the card in her hand. “Oh- there was a lady come by here yesterday. Asked me to leave that.” They seemed on edge. “They’ll want to talk to you, now that you’re awake. The operations team, I mean. I’ll get the doctor,” they said and hurried out of the room, task abandoned.

Everything hurt. In the constant unceasing panic of the outbreak, Ada had constantly been moving, medicating her pain, and focused on getting out with both the sample and her life. Adrenaline had helped. Knowing that she had to be ready to fight for her life at any moment had buoyed her system into a state of constant readiness. Now, after several days of apparently chemically-induced rest (from the look of the IV in her arm), she’d finally been able to stop moving. ‘Motion is lotion, rest is rust’ - a proverb of the quaint little drill instructor at the Simmons’ estate. It was fitting to this situation. Trying to sit made her feel like her spine had rusted through while she slept.

She pulled herself upright anyhow. That attendant had been under orders to find a superior the instant she awoke. There was no avoiding it. She’d likely spend at least the next week in debriefing, going over and over what she had seen and found in the now-dead city.

Ada Wong refused to look weak if she had any say in it at all.

Several long minutes passed. Finally, the man who had arranged her exit ride out of Raccoon City appeared in the doorway, dressed in a crisp black suit, with dark glasses. “Ah,” Ada said, her cool, slightly bored mask firmly in place. “I see I merit a personal visit. Should I be flattered?”

Albert Wesker ignored the comment. “That was adequate work. If a debriefing were scheduled for this afternoon, would you be ready to begin?”

Ada shrugged. “I might as well. There doesn’t seem much else to do around here.” She gave the card a little glance. “That girl you sent back in was a trip. She needs real training, but she improvised well in the field. Seemed like she could stand to get out a bit more though.” She paused a moment, contemplative. “My previous affiliates had some very interesting questions before they cut the phone lines to the city.”

Wesker stilled, just for a moment. Then, “I’m sure they can add that to the report. Good day, Miss Wong.”

Then he left.

Ada waited for the footsteps to recede, and spared the card a tiny smirk. Once her spine felt like it wasn’t filled with broken glass, she would have to track that girl down. She’d committed to something here, after all.

And she was going to owe Ada a favor.

----------

The mid-morning air was warm as Marigold’s feet began to pound across the manicured trail of the parkland around the facility. She’d made three circuits of the winding road, spread across a dozen acres. She’d make several more before giving up for the day.

Her headaches had come back with a vengeance after she’d finally released her tension, despite them not coming back earlier while pushing herself in that doomed little town. She didn’t have the clearest memory of what had happened after Wesker had stepped in the shower with her following the end of the mission - only that the tiling on the walls had been cracked in several places when she snapped back into alertness, afterward.

Marigold wasn’t sure yet whether she preferred it that way. It hadn’t been a blackout like before, more a sinking shifting into something that shunted aside trivialities like rationality and inhibitions. It had felt like her mind had ceded all control of the situation to her libido, and to him. Something about that felt significant.

The fresh air was helping the headaches. The appearance of her eyes had stayed the same, but the people at the facility had (nervously) scheduled an ophthalmology consultation later that week. Before her life imploded in 1981, her eyes occasionally showed signs of temporary nerve damage and bleeding after pushing herself too hard, but this time they haven’t reverted after resting, or bleeding off energy. Before, it was an incredibly rare occasion when someone was on hand to work out what was happening. Very nearly all of her recovery work had been therefore based on guesswork and extrapolation from her own notes and drawings. Alexander had done what her could when she had visited with her armloads of paperwork, but such had only gone so far.

She was stabilizing now, under close observation. The mission had earned her a little space, so long as she did not approach employees or attempt to leave the grounds. A monitoring bracelet mag locked on her wrist tracked her movements at all times.

So. She’d run their little test track. Earned a little space. What now? Now that she’d shown that it was in their interests not to make her disappear into an observation room for the next seventeen years, how would that be used? She hadn’t run screaming to the nearest payphone or wept in terror at the sight of that pack of hunter beasts. What would be the point? Everyone who had any power in that catastrophe had looked away.

She wondered, not for the first time since the bombing had happened, whether Jill Valentine had made it out alive. Ada might know, if Ada were inclined to tell her. Not for the first time, she wished that she had told Valentine the whole truth, that her ex-captain was alive, that she barely knew a damned thing.

But where would that have led? Valentine had been determined to find half a reason to stay back and help. Giving her a focus that she could reach, rather than one lurking out there in the dark when she had to focus on her more immediate survival, would have been cruel. And the STARS officer would have had so many questions, would have tried to follow.

Wesker hadn’t had to threaten much to assure himself that she wouldn’t run, when he was setting the terms of her venture into the city. Knowing that the man who managed and programmed the orders of the Tyrants she had seen on first awakening - Sergei Vladimir - would be a short distance and an anonymous tip away had been harrowing enough to hold her to a strict schedule.

And then there was Wesker himself. He had stayed away from her since they’d rendezvoused at the sprawling HCF facility, but she knew he was around.

He had kept asking about the twins, before. Rockfort’s training ground, built in the late 70s, and matured when Alfred had grown old enough to manage it. Alexia’s research and the culling of her family tree. Marigold had deflected the questions and repeated her usual lies of distancing herself from the family. Back at the other lab, he’d pulled it back at the last moment, but those targets were clearly viable to HCF.

Wesker would circle around again. HCF would want to strike Umbrella while it was weakened.

For the moment, Marigold had to hope her warning to Poppy was enough. If her little trick at the police station had worked, the network, the collection of people within the organization and around it whom she had cultivated over the 1970s, would finally be in play.

Hours passed. Marigold pounded over the same ground over and over again until she finally started to feel lightheaded. A light lunch appeared in a nylon sack on the bench that defined her starting point. The staff here had taken note of her habits, and someone had been notified to bring it out here to take outside as soon as her pace had begun to dip. Those within this company, HCF, seemed to be assessing her from a distance. It was an oddly familiar little routine; the staff at the house back in England would do something similar when she was out tramping about the moors at all hours of the day and night.

----------

When she returned to her quarters, she found Wesker seated in the small living space they’d created for her. The furniture here was subtly, but suspiciously, reinforced. As if she hadn’t worked out how to coexist with the world yet, and were making ‘accommodations’.

Marigold paused in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. The precious bag filled with journals was stashed under her bed. Somehow, the bag had escaped Wesker’s notice in the wake of what they’d done. The contents of the chest, and the video feed of the encounter with the hunters had been enough. His focus, in proximity to herself, had…narrowed.

So the bite had been enough, then. Before then, all she had managed to do was bind herself to him. Reinforcement would be required, of course.

She didn’t imagine he would be terribly averse to the delivery mechanism.

Wesker rose from his seat when Marigold finally stepped the rest of the way inside and shut the door behind her. She watched him warily as he walked toward her. “I imagine this isn’t a social call.”

“Not exactly,” he allowed. Ah - the mutation.

“Oh. I think it’s settled in.” She shrugged, as if the mutation were of little note. The mottled coloring of bright autumn leaves remained in her irises. “I’m writing it off as a training injury. They’d been threatening to do that for years, but my medication kept it under control.”

He stepped in closer, crowding her. Marigold stepped back automatically and felt her back hit the door she had just passed through. She felt the small ring of amusement roll off of him as he considered the response. “It activates under strain, then. You easily could have asked for them again.”

Her seeking out family, allies, anyone who was still alive in her network - that was still something she had kept almost entirely hidden from Wesker. Kate was the only exception, and Kate was safely tucked away now. Keeping those options open meant continuing things as they were. Marigold intended to keep it that way, but he would know if she lied outright. So she told the broadest version of the truth possible, the one that lay at the core of the rest of it. “I know. I didn’t want to.” She looked away, letting the lingering sense of self-loathing she’d always felt in the past finally rise to the surface. “There’s a snapback effect…after. I’ve never let it get away from me like that before.”

Wesker might have been a statue for how still he had grown, but the surge of possessive greed that rolled off of him then was unmistakable. That same hunger. She looked up then, letting her face stay just that smallest bit crumpled in. Sooner or later, she’d have to ask for something in return, or they’d get suspicious of her. He certainly would. “I need to know what they did. Down in that lab.” Her voice remained small. It wasn’t entirely an act. “I need to see my data.”

----------

Wesker looked down at her. Marigold had slid down against the door a few inches, unconsciously trying to make herself smaller. “We’ll see what can be done about that.” He said quietly. He stepped in and reached up to wrap a hand around her throat once again, watching her breath catch.

He was feeling indulgent- enough to give the request some thought. Reciprocity would open a gateway into how her virus worked. Belatedly, he realized that she’d been too afraid to voice the fear of having been altered during her slumber until now.

For the most part, he found most people to be weak, malleable, and insufferably predictable. Marigold had developed herself in a unique way where her own quarantine measures could be turned against her - and she knew it, even as it was happening, if irritability mixed with rising black lust were anything to go by. It was a pleasure to peel apart someone who had a unique insight into the mother virus, even if she struggled to voice them.

Meanwhile, the talents she had developed in darkness were extraordinary. No one else had known what had transpired with William before Marigold had, and they’d had time to get into place because of it. She’d require a light touch, but, as he’d been gratified to discover, not a gentle hand.

After all, she was more than a little bloodthirsty herself.

Wesker would have to manage how often he visited from here on out. His own viral levels seemed to spike after encounters; he’d need a clear head in the weeks to come. Thankfully, the spikes subsided quickly.

If there were little details of her behaviour that seemed suspicious, his mind had begun to slide away from them. The bag under her bed was a mere memento, irrelevant, something she had clung to as one of her few material possessions. She’d clung to the few scraps of space and dignity he’d given her enough to know she’d behave in his absence.

HCF had approved his proposal to go after Umbrella's paramilitary holdings - her nephew’s territory. Leaving her here, in place, was risky; Umbrella had not yet been defanged, and it was quite possible that the upper echelons at Umbrella had been alerted to her survival. A corporation like HCF was a tighter ship, but it wasn’t impermeable. If she could be contained, then the shard of an idea to pry open the family’s secret holdings might bear fruit.

He’d have to plan carefully. But…that could come after.

Wesker bent to claim her mouth hard, hand tightening on her throat. He’d left what he’d started in that tiny warehouse office space unfinished. Marigold whimpered under his hand, arcing, molding into him in spite of her trepidation as his other hand drifted downwards to draw her closer into him.

Her capacity for rational thought was dropping away faster each time he engaged Marigold in this fashion, fully submitting to his control. The last time, in the warehouse she had dropped into a near-feral state that might have killed a normal human. As it was, they’d only damaged the shower in that warehouse. He’d have to start restraining her soon, at this rate. Given their history, the context of doing such would have to be carefully managed.

It would be a shame, not to enjoy a taste of the bounty he’d worked for.

After all, Wesker had requisitioned the reinforced furniture in this little space for a reason.

[writing-funsies]

OP characters as besties p.2

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5

characters: Zoro, Chopper, Nami

warnings: none

notes: all platonic hc's

Zoro

you train together

nap together

drink together

and antagonize that perverted cook together

the two of you are always competing to see who's stronger

Zoro wins every time

but you say he actually lost because you're way cooler

how are you cooler?

because you can walk in a straight line and not get lost

a short fight follows your teasing

you two share one brain cell

and somehow he ended up pawning it off to Nami because he owed her money

which means no matter how hard you try

your plans always lack common sense

you jump right into the most drastic option

without a second thought

though, there's hardly ever a first thought

(like Zoro's big plan when facing Mr. 3)

Zoro isn't a particularly friendly-looking person

so when you're walking around on a new island

either everyone approaches you

or you use him for Scary Dog Privileges™

you try to make him carry the things you buy

and sometimes he will

but most of the time he refuses to

if you trick him into carrying your stuff

he's gonna be real angry

which makes him look even scarier

and means you can walk around with no interruptions

he's got your back

and you've got his

7/10 

he pushes you to be better, to be stronger

but will 100% get lost and blame it on you

Chopper

if you want to learn about medicine

he will explain it to you in the easiest way to understand

he loves to sleep on your lap

and thinks you're so cool

fusses at you if you train too hard

or if you get seriously injured

doesn't like it if you pull too many pranks on him

(like jumping out of a closet wearing a scary mask)

but will forgive you if you shower him in compliments

if he sees something that he thinks you'll like

he'll get it for you if he can

you two have long talks about his past 

he tells you all about living on Drum Island

and Doctorine

and Doctor Hiriluk

when you play hide and seek

he always loses

but if you play tag

he always wins

shares his food with you

possibly the best at being a hype-man

he just compliments you in the sweetest ways without meaning to 

like an offhanded remark about how you smell the best

or that he couldn't have imagined a best friend as amazing as you

if you call him a raccoon

at first, he'll be confused

huh, what do you mean y/n? did you hit your head?

but if you continue to refer to him as one

he'll yell at you

I'm a reindeer! a reindeer, damn it!

10/10

reliable and sweet

but won't go with you through a haunted house

Nami

charges you a million berries before letting you take on the title as her best friend

it's a revered position

and she can't have just anyone claiming that spot

she won't charge you any interest on the payment though

(that's the perk of being her bestie)

okay but when you two go shopping together

she always manages to talk down the price

definitely the best person to spend money with

Nami enjoys a more luxurious lifestyle

so expect to be dining and shopping in high-priced areas

your poor wallet would be empty after an hour

Sanji makes you and Nami and Robin only the finest of treats

either the cook is absolutely devastated by how close you are with Nami

or he worships you just as much

Nami doesn't let anyone scam you or harm you

there's no pulling any fast ones over on her

which means you're also immune

she will get annoyed if you contribute to a mess that she has to clean up

but she can't stay mad at you

teaches you about navigation

it's her life's passion

so you pick up a lot of tips and tricks on how to accurately gauge the weather

and how to properly chart a topographical map of islands

you also learn how to take care of the tangerines from her home

she's fiesty

but she does care

so if you get into a spot of trouble

she'll be right there to help you out

8/10

loyal and smart

but will give you a bill at the end of the month for eating her tangerines

[mattreactsto]

- Who even sleeps with a sleeping mask anymore.

- It’s…Jim? (Josh…but at least it starts with J)

- Oh Christ. Really. Just. Wow.

- Oh that crack didn’t sound good. (I’d let Eddie break my pelvis. Not that I’ll tell Matt that.)

- Raccoon!!

- Who gave Buck a power tool.

- Creepy Nanny. What the fuck is with the nanny’s fake tan.

- Aww. Remember when Joe tried blowing kisses the first time? Didn’t he punch your face? (Black eye. Bloody nose. Yeah. It went a bit wild.)

- Linda!!! She needs more screen time.

- The puppy! Oh no. Hoover. Can we take Hoover? (No more dogs Hun.)

- Well this is a day for home invasions. (It’s…it’s the name of the episode.)

- Awww. Sue. I would love to have a boss like Sue. I wonder how Sue is at architectural detailing.

- I thought that address look familiar.

- Yup. Denny is being raised by the gays. Poached eggs. Yas boy.

- Wait. Karen is…cool with this?

- Bobby has puppy eyes. That match Hoover’s.

- Oh god. No. Not looking at dry wall.

- Why do I have a feeling this is not going to end well for the reno?

- Brother’s kinda cute. I bet he takes directions really well.

- He’s an idiot.

- Hey! He’d be a dumb fuck!!

- Aren’t they worried about…stabbing…Vincent?

- I hope they aren’t hitting anything structural up there.

- Umm…are they fucking? (Who?) Vincent and his sister? (No. I see why you ask. But. No.)

- Karen’s going to give you an anatomy practical.

- Hoover! The Beaver Dam!

- Bobby owes Karen a pulsing shower head for dropping off Hoover.

- It’s someone at dispatch tipping them off. Oh please can it be Josh who cracked because hot electrician dumped him because Josh is…trashy?

- Fuck it isn’t Josh.

- Oh it’s the Bible named guy using Maddie’s ID. Moses? (Noah. Not the same book in the Bible but points for Eddie...Hubby. Fuck. This is why I should have waited on that last glass of wine.)

- Oh Chim and Maddie. I love the weird shit they get wrapped in.

- Bathtub wine is the best wine.

- Oh Moses. Maddie is fucking with you. (Noah dear. Noah.)

- Noah…you…you need to shut up. She’s wearing a wire. 10:1 odds.

- “Cool motive. Still illegal.”

- Yes! I was right! Wire!

- Well. This is pretty fucking racist of the writers. Like. Yes. Crime happens with every race. But wow. Black man on hard times turns to crime to help family and gets caught and cuffed. Super racist, writers.

- Remember when we used to sleep in the same room. You would have beaten me senseless if I turned on the light like that when you were asleep. (Didn’t stop you from doing it though, now did it.)

- Awww Hoover.

- This isn’t realistic. With Hen?

- Hoover is gonna fuck up Eddie’s place.

- Chris is hilarious.

- Nanny is crazy. I mean. I know you’d gladly bang Eddie like a screen door in a tornado, but you don’t slam the door in his face. (He looks particularly fuckable being kind dog dad.)

- You’re not wrong Eddie. Very strange.

- And borderline racist caricature of an Asian landlord. Jesus shit.

- Hen’s leaving. For probably like…two episodes.

- Wow. Eddie. Not at ALL subtle there. (We rewatched some of those episodes.)

- I refuse to believe that Angela Basset is in her 60’s.

- Aww. Good for Hoover!!!!

- Did Maddie kill Magda?

- Why the hell are Buck and Eddie there.

- Okay. They’re with other people. Still. Weird.

- Is this a new episode? (No.) Is that the old set for the old dispatch? (Now that you mention it, it looks like a re-dress of part of it.)

- Is that Karen? (Yes…)

- She still has a job? Huh. You never really see her at work. Or talking about it. Ever. At all. Did the writers forget? Were the writers high? (Probably yes on both counts.)

- Well. This was better than I expected. You don’t look like you hated it.

- (Thank you dear. I really enjoy)

- You still look like you’re a pissed off little hobbit though. Sorry. You were saying something.

- (I was going to say I enjoyed watching it with you…but now I’m going to enjoy giving you the silent treatment and watching your brain spin out on you. Time to watch an episode of Orphan Black.)

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 5 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

The next few weeks were a blur of activity.

When he wasn’t off on patrol or a mission, Mina and Kaminari kept Bakugou busy with dozens of team exercises, all of which needed your analysis. They ran him through any and every scenario that entered their brains, and after the first few rounds, Bakugou seemed to resign himself to their ministrations, his explosions no longer rattling the windows of the training room in displeasure. You’d reviewed footage of the first couple of rounds all together, the trio of heroes jammed into the tiny surveillance room with you, grimy with the ashy residue of Bakugou’s explosions, someone or another’s shirt partly melted off, and all of them looking exhausted but pleased.

Eventually, though, it became difficult for you to spare time in between your meetings with the other agency heroes. Bakugou was not helping matters by kicking the door down in the middle of your meetings and attempting to bodily remove anyone you were in conversation with whenever he wanted an update. You were dedicating almost as much time to breaking up fights and rescheduling appointments as you were to having the actual meetings themselves.

In the interest of maintaining the peace--and health and safety the Miruko agency employees--you wrote a quick script that monitored the training room footage and automatically ran your analysis program any time it keyed in on Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari together on screen. It forwarded the results to their phones so that Bakugou wouldn��t come stalking in and making any more enemies than he already had.

That seemed to pacify him for a couple of days, and you managed almost twenty blissful meetings uninterrupted, until a Friday morning when no sooner had you flipped the lights on in the surveillance room than Bakugou was ripping the door open after you.

“Enough slacking off, nerd,” he growled, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely menacing manner. It was early but he looked wide awake, maybe a little mussed like he'd already been training, the same combination of annoyingly handsome and intimidating as always. He was also dressed in some variation of his usual training set, dark fabric clinging to his chest, arms bare. The sight was really way too much for this early in the morning.

His sudden entrance startled you out of a yawn, and you just barely managed to catch your laptop before it slipped through your fingers.

“Good morning?” you hedged, looking up at him in apprehension.

He made an angry, dismissive noise. Before you could dredge up enough energy for a proper eye roll, something small and warm was thrust unceremoniously into your chest, briefly winding you.

You looked down at the item he was attempting to fracture your sternum with and found yourself staring at a white takeout cup.

You looked up at him in confusion but he just glared passively until you looked down again.

“....what is this?” you asked. Your hands raised automatically to take the cup from him.

“Battery acid,” Bakugou said.

You stopped, gaping at him, and he rolled his eyes. “The fuck do you think it is, idiot?” he demanded, gesturing at it forcefully.

You looked down at the cup again, a soft swirl of steam issuing from the opening in the cap. You brought it hesitantly to your face. A cursory sniff revealed very little in the way of poison--not that you had much expertise on the subject--but it did smell suspiciously like the house blend from the nice bakery down the street.

You stared at Bakugou with misgiving. “What is this, actually?”

He made a disbelieving noise. “You spend all this time acting like such a smartass and you don’t even know what a fucking coffee is? The fuck do you think you drink every morning?”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was absolutely no way Bakugou Katsuki was bringing you coffee. This had to be some kind of trick.

His threats from a few weeks ago floated to the forefront of your mind. I’m going to win the bet, he’d said, and then you’re in for it. Was this part of "in for it"? What was “it”, exactly, and was it likely that “it” entailed poisoning you in broad daylight in the middle of a hero agency?

The offing you in broad daylight seemed very much his style, but poison seemed a roundabout way to do it. No, if he was going to settle a score with you, it was going to be something much more immediate, and probably obnoxiously flashy.

You brought the cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip. No acid tang of poison met your tongue, only the rich, buttery taste of the coffee. Though arsenic was said to be flavorless... Damn that was good, though.

Bakugou hovered impatiently, like he was waiting for something, wearing a strangely blank expression. You watched him nervously. Was the poison slow acting or something?

His scarlet gaze locked onto yours, and it suddenly hit you what he must be doing. You almost dropped the coffee. Was he...waiting for a thank you? As in, he was aware of and actively acknowledging that he’d just done something for you?

You decided to test the waters. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

He made an impatient clicking noise. “Fucking took you long enough.”

You frantically schooled your features into a mask that betrayed nothing of your shock. Christ, he was serious. He’d actually brought you a coffee, and he knew it was a nice thing to do? There was no way he was doing this just to do this. He had to want something from you.

“...So, what is it that you’re bribing me for?” you asked.

Bakugou’s face went dark, the tips of his ears strangely pink. “Fuck you. I don’t need to fucking bribe you for shit, with your obvious little crush on me.” He took a threatening step closer, and that familiar scent of gunpowder and caramel filled your nose.

You felt your face heat, your heart jumping into your mouth. Not this shit again.

So, it was absolutely true that you had a lot of trouble detaching your eyes from the width of his biceps, and that your brain ran wild loops every time he was close. But just because you had difficulty looking anywhere else when he was in a room, didn't mean you had a crush on him. He was way too much of a brat and it was exhausting trying to keep up with his weirdly intense personality. Just because he was pretty did not mean you had a thing for him...

“Why are you like this?” you complained, edging away from him as he moved nearer.

He smirked knowingly, taking another step closer. A small, traitorous shiver went up your spine at the thrill of a man so close. To your eternal embarrassment, Bakugou’s keen gaze seemed to catch it, a darker smile curling his mouth.

You opened your mouth to make some kind of excuse--though what you would have come up with was completely beyond you--when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through the door.

The intruder let out a quiet gasp, but that was enough to break the moment. Bakugou whirled on her, red eyes glaring.

“Raccoon, do you ever mind your own fucking business?” he demanded, in the tones of someone interrogating a war criminal.

Mina’s dark eyes widened innocently. “What? How was I supposed to know this is where you’d gone?” she asked. There was note of something gloating in her voice, however, and you got the feeling that she’d been hoping to catch you in some kind of act.

Your face went hotter. Why did everyone think there was a thing with you and Bakugou, including, apparently, Bakugou?

“Anyway, I’m not here for you,” Mina informed him briskly, derailing your wandering train of thought. “I was gonna ask stats girl to give us a hand this morning.”

She turned to you, her smile slightly predatory. “Blasty’s better at sticking close now, so we started focusing team exercises on victim evaluation. Any chance you can play civilian? Denki was for a bit but he started getting too into it.” A grimace flitted over her pretty features. “I almost lost an arm trying to stop Katsuki from blasting him clear into the stratosphere.”

You looked at Bakugou, but an irritated twitch of a blonde eyebrow was all you got by way of an explanation.

Your thoughts turned inward, wondering if this was a good idea. You’d been hoping to use the morning to get a little work done on a prototype of a productionized model, seeing as you had fewer meetings than usual today. And you hadn’t really come prepared for a potential roll around in the dirt and dust of the city simulation training spaces.

As if sensing your hesitation, Mina chirped, “I’ll let you a spare set of my training clothes so yours don’t get dirty! And you would probably be saving Denki’s life here--don’t you owe him one from the Hero Awards?”

Your gaze cut back to Bakugou without any direction from your brain. Bakugou appeared to be making no attempt to look apologetic about the incident at the Awards. He raised an eyebrow in challenge when your look lingered too long for his liking, red eyes narrowing in on you with a sudden heat. “The fuck are you looking at, nerd?”

“He means please,” Mina said, her voice going honeyed and wheedling. “Plus, it will be fun! I promise you I won’t melt any of your body parts off. Just Blasty’s, I swear.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes stayed firmly attached to Bakugou’s face. His mouth twitched in obvious irritation at the implication that he would ever say please, but he made no move to correct Mina, limbs drawn in tight, defensive.

You looked down at the cup in your hand, sighing. He’d brought you a coffee and was doing minimal yelling. He appeared to be making some kind of effort here--though to what end you weren’t sure--and you supposed contributing to his training was ultimately your goal here, anyway. You could reward him for behaving himself as well as he knew how, and work towards your promotion at the same time.

“Fine,” you allowed, watching as Mina startled wiggling in obvious delight. “Let me finish this coffee and then I’ll help out.”

Mina clapped her rosy palms together. “Ahh! This is going to be so fun! You’ll see.”

Mina’s definition of fun was any civilian’s definition of fucking terrifying.

It was one thing to see the three heroes using their powers on screen, or safely tucked away behind a meter of quirk-enforced glass. It was another thing entirely to be in the center of the action, acid sizzling mere inches from your feet.

“You said you wouldn’t melt anything off!” you shouted, stumbling away from Mina.

She’d accused Kaminari of getting too into playing civilian--whatever that meant--but you thought she was way too into playing villain herself. A hard look passed over her pretty features, sending a chill down your spine. With that dark look, those unusual eyes and twisted horns took on a more sinister nuance. She looked almost like an alien, and moved like one too, stalking you through the twisting alleys of the training cityscape.

“Accidents happen,” she cooed, almost happily. She threw up a twisting fistful of acid that hardened into a warped wall in front of you. You skidded wildly on the gravel to avoid it. “Now stay still, you’re supposed to be a hostage.”

A choked little noise escaped you. Honestly, thank god this woman was a hero. You might have trouble sleeping at night if you knew a villain like this was stalking the streets, unchecked and unbound by social mores. You’d probably still have trouble getting to sleep tonight, even after she went back to smiling and bouncing all over the place.

“Actually, maybe Kaminari should take over again,” you managed, stepping back from her. “Not really sure if I’m cut out for this.”

A loud boom drowned out her reply, an office front a few blocks away crumbling under the force of the blast. You gaped at the force that shook the street, even blocks away.

Mina used your distraction to her advantage, grabbing the back of your shirt to haul you towards her. “He’s so obvious, my god--how he got to be number eight is beyond me. Now come over here and do your best to look injured. He needs practice evacuating people instead of coming in blasting.”

She fumbled with something on her belt, pulling out several bright red bands that proclaimed various types of injuries in blocky white font. Then she leaned over you, shoving a band up your arm that announced SEVERE BURNS, and another on your left ankle, proclaiming a DISLOCATION.

She clicked her tongue, looking you over. “Would more be overkill? This is enough that he should at least hesitate before trying to blow me sky high…” She seemed to decide against more, shoving the rest back into her belt. Then she gently pressed you down to the ground at her feet.

“This is the part where I get to monologue,” she said, winking down at you. “Do your best to look helpless and make sure your severe burns thing is showing. I wanna see if he can prioritize rescuing you over my trash talk.”

A soft groan escaped you. Fat chance. Bakugou was the most foul tempered little shit you had ever met, and while it was true that his single-minded focus on winning the bet meant he was tolerant enough to be doing this exercise in the first place, you highly doubted he was going to hesitate if Mina was pushing his buttons as expertly as she usually did.

The chance to find out came soon enough. There was a strangled kind of yelp and a crackle of lightning followed a thunderous boom a few blocks away as Bakugou presumably rendered Kaminari’s perimeter defense useless. Then with another screaming explosion, he was rocketing over the buildings separating you, barrelling straight down on Mina.

Mina threw up another acid shield that hardened into a defensive wall. Bakugou’s first attack cracked it but didn’t manage to penetrate. There was barely a breath between the cracking and another explosion, however, and then the wall exploded inwards in a crackling shower of fizzing pieces. Mina crouched over you, breathing excitedly, “This is the fun part!”

Whatever reply you might have given her was drowned out by an angry series of hissing snaps from Bakugou’s palm as he stalked closer to you. The right half of his shirt had been singed off by lightning, it looked like, and a fine veneer of dust layered in his hair and on patches of his skin. It was just a training simulation, but he looked half-wild, teeth bared and eyes bright over the ash on his face. If he looked nearly this intense in real life situations, it was a wonder that anyone would agree to be evacuated by him at all.

Maybe that’s why he sucked at rescues.

“It’s fucking over, raccoon eyes,” he said. “Hand her over.”

Mina laughed, a delicate sound like bells. “Not another step closer, hero, or I’ll melt a hole straight through her pretty neck.”

You twitched away from her minutely. God she was terrifying.

“Quit it with the fucking villain act, fuckwad, or I’ll blow you all the way to hell,” Bakugou growled.

Mina reached for your arm, pulling you up next to her. “Hmm, then I hope your aim is good. She’s already got one set of severe burns.”

Bakugou’s crimson gaze cut down to your shoulder and the displeased twist to his mouth deepened. “Fucking--of course you got yourself fucking injured. Fucking idiot.”

“Hey,” you protested, shifting against the band. “I’m not actually.”

Mina kicked you. “Moments to live, this one. Unless you can pull a healing quirk out of those glorious buttcheeks of yours.”

You choked on your own spit while Bakugou snarled. “I’m gonna fucking remember this, you strawberry fuck.”

“Maybe. But she won’t,” Mina said, and suddenly there was a rosy palm in front of your face, dripping acid. A drop landed deliberately on the fold of the training pants she’d lent you, searing straight through with a loud hiss. Your heartbeat spiked in violent alarm. You reeled back, but Mina was still crouched over you, and you banged into her collarbone.

In the next second, everything went to shit. Something searing hot blazed just over your shoulder and Mina swore, jerking back from you in the blink of an eye. There was a deafening crack and a rush of burning air over you as Bakugou let loose an explosion at the same time he seized your ankle and pulled you straight underneath where he’d aimed the blast, missing you by inches.

“What the fuck,” you gasped. Bakugou grunted, and yanked harder, pulling you straight to him.

“Quit being such a fucking princess,” he growled, shifting an arm underneath you. You froze, suddenly wishing that his explosion had managed to hit you, searing off every nerve ending.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, sputtering in alarm when he hoisted you against him. You could feel every place your body touched his, and smell the sharp gunpowder and sugar scent of his sweat. He hooked his arm firmly around your waist, glaring down at you with one baleful red eye.

“Fuckstick gave you a dislocated ankle so I would have to fight her off with one fucking arm and carry you with the other,” he bit out, whirling when a stream of acid came hissing your way.

You gripped at his shirt, swearing. “Oh my god. What the hell is she doing, aiming for me? This is a simulation! Also, I can walk.”

He grunted. “You can shut the fuck up is what you can do.”

He executed another agile dodge, pulling you with him. “Now hold on, princess, this is gonna be a rough ride with one arm.”

You didn’t have time to ask him what the hell he was on about. He aimed a shot over your shoulder, the heat simmering and boiling in the air next to your ear, and you heard the impact of Mina hitting the pavement behind you. In the next second, Bakugou tightened his arm around you, and aimed a palm for the ground.

The next thing you were aware of was a strangled screaming sound. It took a second for you to realize the mortifying noise was coming from you. But in your defense, Bakugou had literally blasted the two of you clear above the alleyway. You could see the wreckage from Bakugou’s scuffle with Kaminari, and Mina scrambling to her feet, much smaller and further away that you were comfortable with. Your hands fisted in his shirt and you nearly decapitated him with the force with which you shoved your face into his shoulder.

Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Bakugou hadn’t been kidding about the rough ride. Another blast from his palm jerked you sharply to the right, and he uttered a soft swear.

“Hold tight, nerd,” he said in your ear. There was a series of more explosions and you spun violently in the opposite direction. You went careening over a low roof top to land heavily on the pavement, Bakugou twisting at the last second to take the initial impact to his shoulder, rolling over you to distribute the momentum.

You rolled twice more, eventually stopping with his hard body under yours, your face jammed unpleasantly into his shoulder, his arms bracketing your sides. One of his hands was fisted in the back of your shirt, and a tuft of blonde hair brushed your cheek.

He let out a huff. “If you ever let her put the fucking dislocation band on you again, I’ll melt your damn laptop.”

You pulled back from him, hissing into his face. “If you dare, I'll--”

“The fuck you gonna do, nerd?” he demanded, sitting up. Straight into you.

You gripped his shirt so as not to fall right off of him, widening your knees for balance. Then you froze when you realized he was pressed against you everywhere, hard muscle and the heat of his skin bleeding through your training clothes. He was hot like a furnace, ashy and dust-streaked like one too, and his eyes glowed like banked coals. He gazed back at you, his mouth setting with some kind of a challenge.

Then those red eyes trailed slowly and deliberately down your face, stopping right on your mouth. His fingers tightened in the back of your shirt.

You couldn’t help your sharp inhale. Holy shit, was he...going to kiss you?

You sat frozen, locked in place, neither willing or able to move away, like you were being pulled towards him like some kind of magnet. Was he really going to do it? Was he really going to kiss you? Or, no...were you going to kiss him?

You could, you thought hysterically. That’s what it felt like, watching him breathe shallowly, eyes fixed on your mouth. You could kiss him and he would let you.

Had that been what all the your little crush on me shit had been about? Had he been torturing you not because he’d noted the way your eyes lingered over him, but because it was something he’d wanted to happen? Had that been what all the threats were for, what the crowding you against walls and the frigging coffee had been about? When Mina had said he’d been fixated on you, did she actually mean it less like revenge and more like actual attraction?

You let out a shaky breath. Only one way to find out, you thought wildly, leaning forward with your pulse singing in your veins.

And then an explosion rocked the foundations of the building, throwing you forward against Bakugou’s chest. You gasped, the breath knocked out of you, and whipped around to glare at his free hand in accusation. Bakugou pulled you back, however, a hard looking passing over his face.

It was only seconds before Mina and Kaminari came scrambling out of the maze of training buildings, looking worried. Kaminari was already crackling with static, agitated whips of lighting zipping across his skin. Bakugou's palm started to grow hotter against your back.

His next words threw the situation into sharp clarity.

“That wasn’t from a training room.”

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 8

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Prank war engaged, who will win? Also, Yondu helps you with a little problem, Peter wants to watch another movie, and Rocket finally gets a surprise. Lots of fluff.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Slight sadness because I wrote out the whole Rocket seeing a real raccoon scene, then realized it didn't fit with the direction of this chapter, and now I have to save it for a future one. Poo. Also, for my records, this is day 10 of the Guardians living with reader. Also, Also: I love all the little replies you guys leave for me on this fic! This is a sideblog, so I can't reply to them in the notes, but I just want to let you guys know I love and appreciate them so much!!!!

Word Count: 5,561

You woke up a little nervous, Yondu's warning having gotten to you a bit. You couldn't remember the last time you pulled a prank, and now he's told you that you might have accidentally started a war with Kraglin and Peter? Just what you needed. Great.

The first thing you did, aside from seeing that Mantis was still asleep, was check yourself and your bed over to make sure they hadn't left any surprise pranks for you in your sleep. You even checked your reflection in your phone just in case one of them could have managed to draw on your face while you were sleeping, even though you knew that would be ridiculous... or was it?

Okay, so maybe you were more than a little nervous.

It didn't take long for you to scold yourself. Why should you be nervous? This was your home, you had the advantage. You weren't going to hide like some scared child from some pranks. As you got dressed you told yourself that you'd prepare yourself for anything they had coming your way. Shut it down. Nip it in the bud. Besides, what if Yondu was wrong? Maybe they wouldn't even to anything at all.

You'd barely finished that thought when Peter jump-scared you the second you opened your bedroom door, causing you to reflexively punch him in the face.

"Ow! Dude!" he complained, hands up to his nose and checking it for blood. Luckily there wasn't any.

You cover your mouth, both in horror and trying to mask your humor at the belated karmic justice for the door incident. "I- I really want to say sorry... but I suppose you had that coming..." you say, swallowing your laughter and making your way around him to escape into the bathroom.

Well, that confirmed Yondu was right... You should probably start thinking of some ways to either prank back or defend yourself. If they wanted a war, you'd be ready.

***

You fancied toast again for breakfast and that's when Kraglin struck, using your previous night's admission against you. He spidered his fingers over your sides while your back was turned. You didn't even know he had been in the kitchen, but you sure as hell felt the tickly sparks of electricity that jolted through your body and made you drop the knife as you spasmed under his attack with an embarrassing squeal.

He stopped almost as quickly as he started, doubled over and slapping his knee in laughter. "Oh! That's just too good!" he teased.

You look at him with narrowed eyes, noticing Peter standing not too far off, looking pleased. "So that's how it's going to be, huh?" you say, more of a statement that a question.

The guys only ginned in response and you turned back to your toast.

"I see," you say cooly.

War it was.

***

After you ate you thought you'd make a trip to the attic. You knew you might have an asset or two up there that would prove useful. One such being, a big old rubber spider, another being a whoopie cushion.

You pocketed the whoopie cushion for now, but, seeing as you were the only one upstairs at the moment, you took your opportunity to slip into the room Peter and Gamora shared and leave the spider under Peter's blanket. You hadn't been in that room since it became Peter and Gamora's, but you were able to suss out which bed was his easy enough. You had a feeling it was the one that was only half-assed made-up. Also, his jacket was laying on top of it.

You made your way out as quietly as you had entered and made your way downstairs, but not before grabbing a bath towel from the bathroom closet.

Once downstairs, you searched for Gamora, finding her washing up a dish she used for breakfast.

"Hey," you say, "Can I ask you a favor."

Gamora dried the dish, saying, "As a general rule I don't get involved in any mischief Peter gets up to." She knew Peter was wont to get into prank wars and after last night it honestly didn't surprise her that he might have chosen to start one against you out of boredom. Naturally, she just assumed you were coming to her to make him back off.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," you clarify, then quieter, "I was hoping I could ask if you would be willing to keep Rocket busy and downstairs for a bit?"

Gamora looked at you with a raised eyebrow. How unexpected. Why would you need that?

You realized this would go better if you told her the reason. "Here, I'll show you something," you say, inviting her to follow you out to the shed.

Once inside you revealed to her what you had been working on, but she only looked at you in confusion, probably because the bed frame hadn't been assembled yet. You had planned to wrap the pieces in the towel for transport and assemble the frame in the room, and you told Gamora as such.

"I made Rocket a bed frame. You know, since he keeps complaining about the crib," you say, not wanting to sound too much like you cared.

Gamora now added surprise to the confusion on her face, "But why do you need me to keep him busy?" If this was a peace offering, like she assumed it was, then why would you not just tell Rocket about it? She knew that he would surely be grateful to get out of that crib he was always complaining about.

"So I can get these pieces upstairs and put the frame together in his room," you say, stacking the pieces onto the towel.

Understanding came over Gamora's face. "Oh. You want to surprise him." She sounded a bit surprised, which was understandable considering how you and Rocket clearly didn't get along.

You paused, giving her an apprehensive look. "Not exactly."

She tilted her head slightly, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm just going to put it together... and uh... leave it."

Gamora stared you down for a bit before a slight smirk formed on her lips. "You do realize he'll likely ask where it came from, right?"

You make a face and return to rolling the bed pieces in the towel. "Not my problem. So will you keep him busy?" You finish and turn to look at her. "Please? It shouldn't take long, I just need maybe ten minutes, fifteen tops."

Gamora smiled and shook her head, beginning to wonder if Peter might actually be right that you were a bit shy. "Sure, I'll see what I can do," Gamora said with a smile.

Together you walk back towards the house, and you reach the door just in time to see it open as Rocket and Kraglin walked outside.

You freeze for just a second. This wasn't part of the plan, but maybe you could work with it. Outside was even better than just downstairs, right?

"What you got there?" Rocket asked suspiciously.

Kraglin also looked suspiciously at the bundle in your arms, although for a different reason, wondering if it could possibly be something used for a revenge prank.

You kept your face calm and collected, and simply said, "Nothing." with a shrug as you went to walk through the door, exchanging a brief look with Gamora, signaling that she should make sure he stayed outside until you could finish. She seemed to understand.

Rocket and Kraglin also shared a look, and next thing you knew Kraglin was following after and offering to help you carry the bundle and Gamora was making up something she wanted to discuss with Rocket to keep him outside.

"I don't need any help," you say nonchalantly as Kraglin shut the door behind the two of you.

"I bet. Wouldn't want me ruining any revenge pranks... would ya?" he smirked.

You look at him unamused. "This isn't anything like that. Go mind your own business." You start to turn to leave the kitchen and Kraglin takes the opportunity with your arms being occupied to wiggle a finger in your ribs.

You jerk, nearly drop your bundle, and glare at him, hissing, "Don't you dare!"

Kraglin chuckled and folded his arms. "Then why don't you show me what ya got wrapped up in that-there bundle?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a child." you scold, before nodding toward the door and telling him to follow you if he wants to know so bad. You could have opened the bundle on the table, but you needed to be quick. You couldn't dilly-dally with showing him there and now.

You led your unwanted sidekick up the stairs and to the room Rocket slept in and knelt to lay the bundle on the floor to unwrap it. You turn back to him and say, "It's a bed frame- and we didn't have this conversation."

"Ya made the rat a bed?" Kraglin said, with just as much surprise as Gamora had when she was told. He ignored the oddity of you instructing him to forget the conversation, for now. "Thought ya two hated each other?"

You break his gaze. "I got bored. Don't read too much into it," you say, starting to fit the frame pieces to the headboard. "I just have to put the pieces together real quick, and now that you seen what it is, you can leave me alone to get it done, 'kay? Good." You were grateful you had done a test fit and all the screw-holes were now pre-drilled as you quickly spun them into place with the screwdriver you pulled from your pocket.

Kraglin didn't leave. He just stared at you putting the pieces together for a bit. Those bed pieces didn't look like they were thrown together last minute in a fit of boredom- it all actually looked decently made. He had a feeling that this must have been what you'd been running off to do in that shed over the past few days. "Ya know, I'm startin' to think ya don't actually dislike us as much as you let on."

You paused to give him a look briefly before turning back to work. "That would be reading too much into it," you say, attaching the frame to the footboard.

A chuckle could be heard in Kraglin's voice as he said, "Whatever ya say, ma'am."

You ignore him, turning the last twist on the final screw and placing the bed slats to hold the mattress. You stood with the intent to transfer the crib mattress over when you paused to look around. There was the double bed, where you assumed Drax slept, and the crib, where you knew Rocket slept. Where did Groot sleep if there was only two beds?

You turn to Kraglin, who for some reason still hadn't left you be yet, and asked him. "There was only two beds in here, where does the little one sleep?"

Kraglin shrugged. "I dunno. I think he just curls up with one of the others 'cause he's so little.

You nod thoughtfully. Your intent had been to transfer the mattress and put the crib back away in the attic to get it out of the way, but now you reconsidered. Might as well give the kid the option to his own bed... but that would require another mattress...

"I'll be back." You tell Kraglin, briskly walking past him towards your own room. If you remembered correctly, there was a spare in the attic. An old one that never got thrown out due to mostly laziness and forgetfulness. You retrieved it, knowing exactly which corner you'd find it in, and while you were there, decided to grab a small folded blanket and a sheet for good measure.

You rolled all this tightly together for the trip down the stairs and returned to a confused Kraglin. You threw everything on the frame, the mattress expanding back to life once you released it. You quickly fitted the sheet and shook the blanket open, floating it over the bed. You then retrieved the towel and your screwdriver from the floor, looked to Kraglin and said. "Done." and began to walk towards the door, shooing Kraglin on your way out. You hadn't thought to look for another pillow while you were in the attic, but the raccoon could survive without one for now. After all, there hadn't been one in the crib so he wouldn't be missing much. Not that you super cared or anything.

Kraglin kept looking at you strangely. "So, ya gonna go tell him now?" he asked, walking backwards for a bit while you made your way towards the end of the hall.

"Nope," you say, ditching the towel in the bathroom and then heading for the stairs. You were going to go find Gamora so she'd know she no longer needed to keep Rocket distracted.

"Is it a surprise?" he asked.

"Nope."

Kraglin followed you down the stairs. "Then why aren't ya-"

You stop on the stairs and look at him sharply. "You ask too many questions. Don't make it a bigger deal than it is, 'kay?"

Kraglin frowned, but stopped bothering you as you made your way downstairs. You ditched him in the hall and made your way to the back door. You open it just long enough to catch Gamora's eye and signal to her that her services were no longer needed. You close the door back up and turn around, jumping out of your skin to find that you had indeed, not ditched Kraglin in the hall.

"The hell, man!"

Kraglin laughed, apparently delighted with startling you, and excused himself around you to head outside.

You frown at his retreating form and decided it'd be better to not hover around the door yourself, thinking you might give the house a good dusting to occupy yourself.

***

After cleaning the house and a quick lunch you decided your garden could use a good tending, so you grabbed your earbuds and made your way to the back door.

You weren't exactly sure what made you look up, probably Yondu's warning about that the guys might boobytrap your doorways with water buckets, but when you looked up you spotted the biggest spider resting right above the doorframe and you froze.

You weren't scared or anything... spiders, at least giant ass ones like the one above the door, just tended to freak you out a little... Ok, maybe more than a little. The irony wasn't lost on you either that you had just hidden a rubber spider in Peter's bed that morning.

Yondu, who you hadn't spotted at the table when you walked in as you were preoccupied with finding a song title, saw you freeze and tilted his head. He then saw you take a hesitant step back from the door and decided to ask, "Whatcha doing?"

You startled at the unexpected voice and turned to him. Slightly blushing you said, "Um, nothing. Just-uh, thought I'd go tend the garden." You considered going to use the front door instead but worried it might look a bit odd.

Yondu took a sip from his water and set his glass down. "Ya know, pretty sure you'll get outside quicker if ya walk towards the door. Not sure how far you'll get backin' away from it."

You blushed a bit harder. "Yeah- uh right." Your eyes flitted back to the spider and you visibly jumped a step back as it scurried quickly about 20cm up the wall.

"What was that?" Yondu asked, "What ya look so nervous for?" He started to stand from the table. Was there something outside? Was there someone outside? If so, why not say it?

You could feel the blush creep down your neck and you let out a nervous chuckle. "Um- it's nothing. Really." You couldn't help but glance back at the spider, and regretted it.

Yondu followed your gaze as he walked over and chuckled, relieved it was only a creepy crawly and not that they had all been discovered. He wasn't in the mood to fight a bunch of assholes today. He was, however, always in the mood to tease. "Ya scared of that little thing?"

"No! I- uh.. just wasn't expecting... it."

Putting his hands on his hips, Yondu grinned and shook his head. "My mistake then. Wouldn't wanna keep you from your garden." He clapped you on the back and looked at you expectantly, a hint of humor in his eyes as he nodded towards the door.

"Yeah..." you say, however you hesitated, looking up at the spider.

After a moment Yondu speaks up, laughter in his voice. "Can't do it, can ya?"

You give him a sharp look. "I can!"

"Alright then. Enjoy the fresh air. It's behind that door in case ya forgot." The mirth in his eyes told you he was enjoying this.

You look back up to the spider. You could do this. You start to take a step closer to the door when suddenly Yondu cries out, "Watch out! I think it jumped!" while mimicking a running spider with his hand over the top of your head, making you jump right out of your skin and smack at his hand (which you totally knew wasn't the spider...) with a shrill squeak.

Yondu starts laughing at your reaction and you cover your face in embarrassment. When his laughter dies down you give him a mournful look.

"Jackass." you mutter, arms crossed over your chest and face red from embarrassment.

Yondu rolls his eyes, mirth still present on his face, and he whistles.

It happened so quick you weren't sure you had really seen it.

A whistle. A flash of red. The sound of something cracking into the plaster. Another whistle. He caught an object in his hand; the arrow you'd see strapped to his leg all the time for no discernible reason. He wiped the tip against the rubbish bin before placing it back in its holster.

You blinked. "What the hell was that?" Did he just- move that arrow... with his mind?? Or was it with that metal mohawk thing? It had streaks of red light glowing through it for a moment there.

Yondu just grinned. "Took care of yer little problem so ya could stop yer scared fidgeting and get out the door," he said with a laugh, not really answering your question.

You blushed again but before you could protest he looked to where the spider had been and winced. "Hmm. Might have overestimated the toughness of yer wall there though..."

You follow his gaze to see that his arrow had left a small crack and a chip in the old plaster where he had killed the spider. You turn back to him. "I think that could be forgiven, if you can agree there's no reason to mention it again..."

Mirth crinkled his eyes as he got the hint. You didn't want to advertise that you were scared of the 'creepy crawly.' Was almost cute if he was honest. Reminded him of Peter when the boy was younger. "I'll take that as a 'thank you,'" he said with a cheeky wink as he walked out of the kitchen and left you to your business.

You mumbled out a, "Hmm... yeah," and rubbed the back of your head as you made your way out the door.

***

Later that day Peter came to you and asked if you wanted to join the others to watch another movie. He had found another movie from when he was a kid, The Princess Bride, and he was excited to watch it.

You curbed your suspicion that he might be setting up for a prank and agreed to watch the movie, having nothing else to do.

You walked into the sitting room while Peter walked off to find the others and found Mantis already in there waiting, sitting on the floor in front of the sofa with Groot. Gamora and Yondu were also waiting, but they hadn't sat down yet, instead they were standing by the TV looking at the DVD case and discussing how they hadn't expected Peter to be into this type of movie, clearly assuming it was a fairytale love story rather than the comedy that it also was. Looking about and seeing that Kraglin and Peter didn't seem to be coming back yet, you thought this might be a decent time to break out that whoopee cushion.

You pull it out of your pocket and with a quick breath blew it up, garnering the attention of Gamora and Yondu, who gave you funny looks. You quickly stuff the whoopee cushion under the sofa cushion furthest left and take a seat next to Mantis on the floor, furthest to the right. You look up to them nonchalantly, your expression saying, 'What? I didn't see anything. Didn't do anything either.'

A faint smirk played over Yondu's lips but neither of them said anything. Gamora, because she wasn't going to involve herself, and Yondu, because he ain't a narc. Mantis and Groot, however, gave you confused looks, but you just put your fingers to you lips in a 'shush' gesture and Mantis's eyes lit up, correctly assuming you were playing a practical joke, and she loved practical jokes.

Soon after the rest filed in. You were asked by Peter why you were on the floor when there was room on the couch, and you flippantly answered, "Didn't feel like being pestered like last time," giving him a pointed look.

He almost looked guilty but then just waved you off and sat next to Gamora. More room on the couch then. No skin off his nose.

Like last time, Yondu and Drax took the armchairs, and Rocket settled in on the other side of Mantis. Kraglin was the last to sit and you bit your tongue to keep a straight face and look uninterested as you side-eyed to watch him sit.

It went off just as you expected. A loud fart noise as he sat on the far end of the couch, earning loud laughter from Drax, Rocket, and Peter. Mantis and Groot giggled adorably while Yondu snickered and Gamora only reacted in mild surprise, likely having not realized what the object you placed below the cushion would do.

Kraglin tried to deny it, but Peter only laughed harder and said, "Yeah right! The hole you just ripped in the couch says otherwise!"

Drax then spoke through his laughter that you weren't going to be happy that Kraglin damaged the couch, only for Peter to tell him that it was just an expression.

You start to shake your head at Kraglin, give him an unimpressed look to sell your innocence, when you were startled by the blue tint to his face.

"Uh..." you say, moving to a kneeling position, "Are you alright?"

"Hah. Very funny." Kraglin said, looking annoyed and standing and pulling the whoopee cushion from beneath the sofa cushion. "Ya really think I don't know what these are? Pete had like a million of these."

"No, really. You're starting to turn blue, are you having any trouble breathing or anything?" you ask. He was acting fine, but you knew turning blue couldn't be good.

Peter, seeing you were genuinely concerned, decided to fill you in. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's just embarrassed he still fell for that." He laughed and punched a grumpy looking Kraglin in the arm.

You raised an eyebrow.

Peter clarified, "His blood is blue, not red like ours. He's fine."

"Alright then..." you say, hesitantly sitting back down. You hear Kraglin state he's keeping the whoopee cushion and you roll your eyes at him as Peter finally started the movie.

You hadn't seen this one in a long time, and you honestly barely remembered anything aside from a few funny quotes and the fact that you knew you had enjoyed it. The last thing you expected was for the movie to make you feel things.

You were doing pretty good until the man in black and Princess Buttercup began to talk about her lost love, and you kept it together until the line, "Death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it awhile."

Then you got up to leave the room.

"Want us to pause it for you?" asked Peter.

"Nope," came your answer.

No one thought anything of it, until they heard you go upstairs and you didn't return.

After about 15 minutes Yondu got the sense you weren't coming back, and he briefly wondered why before his sleepy eyes closed, falling asleep during this movie as well.

He had been waiting up the past few nights to try and catch you sneaking out at night, but each night he never heard or saw you leave, because you didn't. Needless to say this made him a little sleepy, but at least with no crew to manage or ship to run he was free to take naps, even if Peter did tease him that he was getting old for falling asleep through the movie.

Rocket, however, was cursing himself. And you. He had just been about to slip out when you beat him to it. He wasn't enjoying the movie that much, and he had realized that this might be the first chance in three days to sneak up to the attic when everyone was occupied, and you just had to go and ruin it by flaking out on the movie partway through. Rude.

They finished the movie without you and you mostly stayed in your room the rest of the night aside for a bit when you came down to grab something quick for a late supper.

You were in the kitchen having just finished the sandwich you had made when Peter came in for a snack.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," you say back, pulling down a small glass for some juice.

"Saw you didn't come back to the movie earlier."

"Yeah?" You didn't meet his gaze as he opened a packet of that space food and sat down. "Seen it."

Peter nearly chuckled, "Well, yeah. I'd think so, it was yours."

You shrug. "Just didn't feel like finishing it."

"Hmmm..." came Peter's response. His tone annoyed you, like he was about to suggest there was an ulterior reason for you skipping out on the movie without a word. Just because he would have been right didn't mean you liked it.

You walk to the fridge to pour some juice and have the thought that you might spruce it up with a splash of vodka, which you kept in the freezer. You pull the bottle and gesture it to Peter, asking if he'd like some. He shook his head and you just poured some into your own glass and went to return the bottle to the freezer. When you did you spotted a small forgotten bag of ice you must have purchased awhile back. It was open, and you got an idea. Sneaking one of the chunks you hid it in your hand and closed the freezer.

You leaned against the counter and sipped your, now alcoholic, juice.

"Nice one with the whoopee cushion today. Good to see you have a sense of humor." Peter smiled.

You shrug. You kept the hand with the ice folded across your body and tucked under the elbow of the arm holding your juice, trying to keep it natural looking.

"If you want, maybe you and I could call a truce, and combine our efforts against Kraglin."

You smirk behind your glass. Either this was a trap, or he wasn't very loyal to his friend. You placed your bets on the former. "I think you're just afraid I might accidentally punch you in the face again if you keep it up."

Peter rubbed the back of his head and laughed, "Well, there may be that... but I do think if we combined our efforts..."

He didn't get to finish that sentence. You had downed the last bit of your juice and started to walk his way while he talked. As you passed behind him you quickly dropped the chunk of ice down the back of his shirt and then even more quickly scurried away as he seized up and gasped from the cold.

You snickered as you heard him squeak, "Ah! Cold! Cold!" on your way out and only spared a glance back at the door to see him abandon contorting his arms behind him to try and grab the offending ice in favor of resorting to hopping out of the chair and doing a funny little dance to shake the ice out.

Once he was free of the ice he caught your gaze and an evil grin passed over his lips as he bend down to grab the ice from the floor.

Your eyes widened and you fled up the stairs, hearing him call out, "Get back here!"

You made it to your room just in time to shut the door and flick the lock before he could have his revenge. You could hear laughter in his voice as he said, "And to think I offered a truce!"

"You didn't mean it!" you called back through the door.

Peter laughed and said, "Well I definitely don't mean it now!" You were right. He hadn't meant it. He was going to try and convince you to pull a prank on Kraglin that they would then turn back on you, but clearly you weren't going to fall for that. He heard you laugh at his statement and shook his head before walking back down the stairs.

At least he had made you laugh.

***

After an hour you decided it was probably safe to leave your room to shower for bed. Also, Mantis was knocking at the door and you had to let her in anyway.

You had just finished your shower and were heading back to your room when a high shriek could be heard from Peter and Gamora's room. The others peeked out from their respective bedrooms to see what the commotion was. Rocket came up the stairs saying, "Thought I heard Quill screaming like a girl, what happened?"

On cue the door to Peter and Gamora's room opened and out came Peter holding the rubber spider by one leg.

The two of you lock eyes across the landing. Your eyes widen slightly and you flatten your lips.

"Any idea how this ended up in my bed?" he asked, looking pointedly at you and waving the toy back and forth.

Shaking your head, you say, "Nope. No idea."

Peter narrowed his eyes but smirked. "Oh really?"

You began walking toward the safety of your room. "Not a clue. Total mystery. Night."

You could hear snickers behind you as open the door, and hear Peter shout after you, "I'm keeping this!" as you shut your bedroom door behind you.

***

Rocket had a surprise waiting for him when he decided to go to bed that night, having walked into the bedroom with little Groot asleep on his shoulder.

He looked at the new bed in confusion. He wanted to ask Drax where it came from, but the big guy was already asleep, and he knew better than to wake him if he didn't want accidentally punched in Drax's startled waking.

He hopped up to the crib and laid Groot down to sleep before inspecting the new bed, sniffing it and checking under the sheets. He didn't really know what he was looking for, but looking couldn't hurt.

Eventually, when he could find nothing wrong with it, he decided to settle in. Better than sleeping in a crib. He could ask where it came from in the morning.

***

The house was dark and quiet, and Yondu was considering giving up on trying to catch you sneaking out again, at least for tonight. After all, you hadn't in several days, what's the chance you would tonight? Might as well sleep.

Then he heard it. The tiniest creak of a door. Then barely audible steps down the stairs.

He stood from his bed as quietly as he could, and made his way over to the door he had left cracked in hopes of being better able to hear when you'd leave.

He peered out, but only just saw the top of your head dip below the floor as you descended.

He waited a moment, wanting to give a little space so as to not risk you hearing him follow. Opening the bedroom door slowly, he made his way out into the hall and to the stairs. He could see in the dark better than a Terran, but still moved carefully as he quietly made his way down the steps.

He stopped less than halfway down, having barely caught sight of you sitting on the hall bench to pull your boots on, and there he waited, out of sight in the dark, until you stood and grabbed a jacket.

He made his way quickly and quietly down the rest of the stairs and just caught you as you were opening the back door.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest with a triumphant grin at having finally caught you before you could leave. He tilted his chin up and asked;

"So where ya sneaking off to?"

[thrndlngs]

@the-fandoms-georgie

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷     A CURSE, natasha romanoff.

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!asgardian!reader. genre: drabble with HELLA ANGST. warnings: character death + endgame spoilers. a/n: set in endgame. this made me cry lol. hopefully you guys enjoy it. i took a different approach to this so, hopefully it’s still enjoyable! also, reader is the asgardian god/dess of war :p  inspo: poem + another love (slowed down) by tom odell.

                         12 HOURS PRIOR.

     "SO YOU’RE GOING BACK TO ASGARD, HUH?” natasha asked as she approached you, offering a peanut butter sandwich as she straddles your lap while taking a bite of her own peanut butter sandwich. you decline it, which only makes her shrug her shoulders and continue to take a bite out of both before snaking her arms around your neck.

   “you’re doing the thing again.” 

   “i’m not doing the thing again.”

   “yes you are! you’re doing the ‘i’m a big bad asgardian whose forming a strategic plan on how to conquer a planet’ face.” she teases, mimicking said facial expression as you roll your eyes (almost) half tempted to throw her onto the couch you were sitting on. you know, for dramatics. 

   “just worried that someone will spot us. you know, with thor and i’s status and the talking, uh,” you trail off, canting your head a bit as natasha corrects you with an infectious laugh. “a raccoon.”

   “yeah, a raccoon. i could only hope that everything goes according to plan and that we manage to retrieve the Aether.”

   “you’re a horrible liar.” 

   “gods do not lie.” 

   “there’s a first time for everything honey.” 

   it’s your turn to laugh now, hands resting at the small of her back as you take in a breath. leave it to natasha to see right through you. “it will be hard going back.” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence and natasha doesn’t force you. she only brings her hands to your face to trace soothing circles against your cheeks, offering that reassuring smile that had pulled you from some of your darkest times.

   “ — i know. i could only imagine what it would feel like going back home.” 

   you scoff, lips pursed as you look over her features, mirroring her smile. “you are.” 

   and she doesn’t understand it - not at first. you loved asgard. it was your home. in another lifetime though. you’ve grown to learn that asgard isn’t a place - asgard is it’s people, traditions - the will and strength to continue on in dire stances (kind of like now). but natasha, natasha was your home now. even if she wasn’t a place. she loved you inside and out. she didn’t see the god(dess) of war or the commander. she saw you, for you. the raw product of fighting battles that weren’t yours to begin with. 

   natasha saw you as someone who was forced a blade and told to fight. so maybe, the two of you are one in the same - just weapons to a cause. maybe that’s why she loved you. maybe that’s what attracted her to begin with, the ‘shared life experience’. she doesn’t know what it’s like being someone of your status - but she does know what it’s like to have your childhood stolen.

   and it hits her. you were referring to her. “i’m nothing compared to asgard.” her tone is a bit more serious now. 

   “you’re the liar now.” you tease, quickly stealing a kiss as natasha rolls her eyes. 

   “i’m serious. the way you talk about it—”

   “someone once told me that home is not a place. it’s where you feel safe and loved - it’s something you feel in here,” you poke at the place where her heart is, a childlike grin on your face as natasha rolls her eyes. again. if only the others could see how corny you truly were.

   and now it’s her turn to remain quiet, fingers trailing your tired features as the two of you sat there in silence. it isn’t until you pull at the ends of her hair that she finally says something to you (but it’s not directed at you, she’s just rambling at this point).

   “i’m not - i’m flattered but i can’t.. i just —”

   “baby,” you cut her off, taking your free hand and using it to turn her attention to you, offering her a soft smile as you laughed at her sudden ‘flustered’ expression. it’s amusing the effect you have on her - even after all these years. “you are my home. i feel safe when i’m with you. i am at my happiest when we are together. home is wherever i am with you. i love thor. i loved the king and queen. i loved asgard and my people, but it was never my home. asgard took everything from me and you, natasha, are the one who helped me see that i am more than what odin forced me to be.” 

                        4 HOURS PRIOR.

    “DON’T BE A HERO TWINKLETOES,” you warned, pointing an accusing finger in her direction as she holds up her hands in her defense as the two of you walked up to the platform. you let out a very audible sigh as natasha takes ahold of your hands and starts to make a very hushed sly comment on how the suit doesn’t do your hands justice. it makes you blush which prompts another comment on how natasha has more bragging points because she’s made the actual god(dess) of war blush.

   “love.”

   “lips are sealed honey,” natasha even ‘zips’ her lips and hands you the imaginary key, giving you a small wink.

   “try not to miss me too much, yeah?” you teased, brows raised as you tried to lighten the mood.

   “tell me about asgard when you get back?” natasha asked, taking a quick step to close the distance in between the two of you as you take a quick glance at thor and the ‘talking racoon’. you wonder if thor could handle it - in his current state, you think he might cry more than you would going back. 

   “natasha,” you begin, taking in a breath as you try to calm your emotions. do you tell her? do you not tell her? do you wait until all of this is over? do you do it now? your mind is working at the speed of light - it’s almost amusing how someone like you seems to get tongue twisted in a situation like this. you’re older now. much more wiser than you were in your last relationship. you’re a commander. a god(ddes) even. yet you couldn’t do something so simple as getting down on your knee? why hadn’t you done it before when it was the two of you? make it more.. intimate?

   “the suspense is killing me.” 

   “i love you,” it’s rushed and you’re laughing to mask the fear in your voice. “in this lifetime and the next.” 

   “don’t get all soft on me now,” she jokes, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek. 

   “don’t take to long, remember, we have to check out the house in the mountains.” you remind her as she leans in for a kiss. 

   “until the sun grows cold, [yourname].” 

   “—and the stars grow old,” you finished, taking your place between her and steve, eyeing the both of them before turning your attention to the center of the room.

   “i’ll see you in a minute baby.”

                       2 HOURS PRIOR.

     “I WANTED TO GIVE HER the ring my mother put in basket, before she passed.” you tell your queen, a sigh leaving your parted lips as you hear both frigga and thor laugh at your sudden confession. you’re almost tempted to kick the back of her son’s knee, but, you settle for a small grunt instead, pursing your lips into a thin line.

   you loved natasha. and she loved you. not because you were some commander who’s led asgard into battle or worked as a council to odin. not because you’ve led asgard into victories or because men and women alike still pray to you before they go off into battle - 

   she loved you. the version of you that would walk the shorelines and keep a small jar of shells on your nightstand. the you that would tell her stories of all the universes you have traveled or of the stars you’ve slept under. the you that would take your time to braid her the way frigga would braid yours.

   “so why haven’t you?”

   “—you know why.” you answered. there’s a flicker of emotion in your eyes that frigga knows all too well, a gentle hand is placed against your cheek as you have to fight to not lean into. frigga wasn’t your mother - not biologically at least. but she’s watched you grow up. she’s watched you fight and tended to your wounds. she’s watched you fall apart and put yourself back together the day you lost a piece of yourself and went off again into battle. 

   you’ve spent your entire life fighting wars that weren’t yours. devoting lifetimes to a cause that you cared little for. you couldn’t remember the last time you had done something for yourself (the only reason you had came to earth to begin with, was to back up thor and retrieve loki). would it be wrong to do something for yourself for once? to live a life that wasn’t paved for you? to move on and let go of your previous lives?

   “you deserve more than what you’ve been given [your name]. please do not let your past keep you from spending the rest of your life they way you have chosen.”

   before you can respond - thor gives you a thumbs up, a way to tell you that he agrees with you. the two of you, were all that was left of your old home (besides valkyrie but, she hadn’t experienced what you and thor had) and you felt like you owed it to both frigga and odin to protect the only son they had left - 

   “the two of you will do great things. and i’m sure you have stories to tell me, but you are here to fix your future. not mine.” she tells you and thor, bringing the two of you in for one last embrace as you bury your face into her shoulder one last time. it’s bittersweet - she might not have been your mother by birthright but she was the closest thing you had to one. and it was painful to bid her goodbye again.

   “take care of each other. i love you. the both of you.”

                      2 HOURS AFTER.

     YOU’RE ENTIRE BODY IS NUMB. you’ve listened to thor’s plan on getting her back. you’ve listened to their cries and complaints - not once, not once had you spoken. you didn’t need to ask clint anything. you knew. you felt it. it felt like your heart had stopped beating - even if it was for just a few seconds. you knew. and there was no way you could bring her back. the guilt ridden archer had tried to approach you (as everyone else did) and you said nothing. your hands remained in your pockets as you looked out over the waters.

   asgard had fallen. half of the universe. loki. heimdall. frigga and odin. hela. and now natasha. you don’t think you’d ever love again - not the way you loved natasha. 

   “[your name],” he approaches with caution, hands held up in his defense as he tries to get a feel of what your current mood was. which is why he keeps his distance at first (and honestly he thinks you might conjure up a weapon and throw it at him) but you say nothing. you can’t find the right words to express the pain in your chest - 

   “whatever we need to do to get her back. we will do it. together. you have my word.” he tells you, taking a few more steps until he’s only a few centimeters in front of you now. and still, you say nothing. 

   “it’s different,” you managed to say, biting at the inside of your cheek as you avoid the blonde’s gaze. “it feels like - it feels like, a part of me is missing. almost as if i am no longer whole.” 

   and he knows better than to interrupt you, if this is your moment to release your grief - he’d be here. whether it be your punching bag, your shoulder to cry on or ear to listen. he would be there - just like you had been there for him all the times before.

   “i told her not to be the hero. i told her not to be the hero and she did it anyways - that’s my job. i’m the one who’s capable of healing. not her. she sacrificed herself knowing - knowing she wouldn’t come back.” you felt she was being selfish but deep down inside, you knew the reason why she had done it. and you would eventually come to terms with it but today was not that day. 

                    16 HOURS AFTER.

     “NATASHA WANTED ME TO GIVE—she wanted me to give this to you,” he chokes in the middle of his sentence, a closed fist is placed in your direction as wanda gives you a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. you can’t manage to find the words not yet. you had spent the past day in a half trying to pick up whatever pieces of yourself remained. you knew you would outlive natasha - it’s a conversation that was very prominent in the relationship but never did you think it would be this soon.

   when the cool metal reaches your calloused palms, you could feel your heart being ripped from your chest. you laugh. not because the funeral or the situation is funny but because it’s ironic. ironic how the two of you had the same idea yet neither of you would get to  biting at the inside of you cheek as you reached in your pocket to take out the ring you were meant to give her. it’s ironic how the two of you both had the same idea - 

   “she said something. ‘with a love that shall not die—’”

   “’till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old,” you’re shaking your head now, raising the ring into the light to reveal the words: until the next, engraved in it. it’s a real tear-jerker - you aren’t sure what’s keeping you from doubling over and screaming to whatever listened that you needed to have her back. it wasn’t fair. why is it that the universe had to be so cruel to you once more? was the loss of your home? your people? your first love? had that not been enough? had you not suffered enough?

   but you couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. not anymore. “i guess this is my curse. maybe gods do not get happy endings.”

                    3 DAYS LATER.

     “WILL YOU BE JOINING ME?” asked thor as the two of you overlooked new asgard. thor, who had his arms behind his back, turns to you to take in your new look. his eyes trail to the necklace (wanda had gifted you a small chain to wear both of the rings you and natasha were meant to gift to each other). you keep your arms folded across your chest, taking in the view one last time before turning to the god, a sad smile evident on your tired face.

   “not this time i’m afraid your grace.” you replied, clearing your throat as you tried to find the right words to explain to him what lied ahead of you. “there’s a woman i must find. i sent my crows to aid the search but until then.. natasha and i were looking at a home, in the mountains, you know? we were going to get a dog and all that.” 

   “oh.” 

   “but i’m never too far. you know that.” 

   “i know. but it’s time we start forging our own fates isn’t it?” 

   you chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss against his forehead, a gesture that was very common in between the two of you. one that’s quickly followed by a bone crushing hug - 

   “be kind to yourself [your name]. i will be fine.”

   “and you to yourself as well. the crows will always watch over you thor.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ⋆☾

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@willowtree42095   ♡  @the-fandoms-georgie

[wincore]

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock 

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown. 

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side). 

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area. 

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream. 

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach. 

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind. 

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks. 

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation. 

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again. 

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention. 

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why. 

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is. 

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all. 

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley. 

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet. 

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now. 

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound. 

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days. 

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe. 

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow. 

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies. 

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.” 

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two. 

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic. 

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling. 

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang. 

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately. 

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head. 

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business. 

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute. 

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back. 

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place. 

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever. 

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

//

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face. 

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it. 

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head. 

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap. 

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much. 

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment. 

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake. 

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

[jaskierswolf]

Trash Panda

Part... 5? Of my Shifter!verse. The one-shot I didn’t know I was going to write.

Prompted by my wifey @fontegagrilledcheese and the ever amazing @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher, both wanted Raccoonskier. So... here we go! The wonderful @hobbart-art just happens to have some raccoonskier art that served as inspiration... so check that out too.

Geraskier, 2.3k - Shapeshifter!Jaskier.

Warnings: Some minor mentions of previous abuse and starvation, but mostly this is good ole fluff.

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Jaskier sighed loudly as he marked the papers in front of him. He enjoyed the teaching part of teaching but all the extra work was a slog. Still, after the generosity of the University following his thankfully brief visit to Lettenhove, he figured it was the best way to repay them. He agreed to two semesters teaching at Oxenfurt and then he would return with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter months. Geralt had reluctantly returned to the path once Jaskier had physically recovered, but Jaskier had remained at the university. It was the first time they’d willingly parted since they’d met just over a year ago, but his heart ached and he longed to fly from the window until he found his love again.

But he really did owe the University a debt.

They’d supplied him with lodgings and food without question, but he really missed Geralt. He chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. He supposed it was probably a good thing to spend some time apart. They’d become far too reliant on each other over the last year. Still, he’d been stuck one place for so long and he’d been too tired after class to let loose. He hadn’t even shifted since Geralt had left a few weeks ago. He hadn’t felt safe enough, not without Geralt by his side, which was ridiculous seeing as he could turn into a plethora of carnivorous beasts. That hadn’t stopped his mother managing to capture him though… He shuddered at the thought.

The itch under his skin was getting worse and he’d started to wake up in a cold sweat. The sensation was bringing back all sorts of memories that he’d rather avoid so he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. Luckily he didn’t have another lecture planned for a few days now. It was the perfect moment to slip out into the city and run free.

And maybe, he if was lucky, he’d run into Geralt.

He pushed his papers aside and stripped off, neatly folding his clothes on his bed, opening his bedroom window so he could make his escape. He hummed happily as he let his magic loose, his skin rippling into dark ebony feathers. He cawed as he shook out his wings and flew from the window. The dreaded itch fading away as he took to the skies. He flapped his wings and did a lap of the university before landing on the cobbled streets. He tilted his head, hopping around to make sure there was no one watching before shifting again. The black feathers thickened to a dark grey fur, his tail grew black and white ringlets as he wiggled his bum. He was still carrying a little more weight than he was used to and his belly grazed the floor as he landed on four paws.

He squeaked and rubbed his face with his paws before sitting down and scratching his belly. It was all Geralt’s fault. Jaskier hadn’t quite been human enough to watch the amount he was eating, after weeks of starvation he’d gone a little over the top. He scratched behind his ears and sniffed, at least he was cuddly. The scent of roast chicken caught his attention and he followed it to a nearby tavern. Behind the door was a pile of old food and empty wine bottles. He squeaked happily and hopped up onto the pile only to be faced with a masked opponent, a rival raccoon.

Jaskier tilted his head, assessing the animal. Their eyes were dark brown like all other raccoons so it was very unlikely that it was another shifter. He knew he could just let the raccoon have the meal, he’d already eaten back at the university, but his instincts wouldn’t let him leave the free meal behind. He chattered at the raccoon in front of him, pawing at the old chicken bones. He managed to split the bird carcass roughly in half before handing one half to the other raccoon. The raccoon clawed at the scraps of meat with its paws, shoving a handful of chicken into its mouth. Jaskier happily chewed on his own meal, sitting on his bottom with his tail between his legs.

Once he was finished he ran through the streets to the outskirts of the city. If he could get through into the forest he could run free for a few hours. It was only once he’d reached the walls that he noticed the other raccoon was still following him. He tilted his head and watched them, not getting any warning before they pounced onto his back, biting playfully at his ears. Jaskier’s raccoon instincts kicked in and soon enough the two raccoons were tumbling around on the cobbled streets of Oxenfurt, chasing each other and biting at each other’s tails until Jaskier stopped and sniffed.

He could smell a litter of kits.

He scampered off down the street, the other raccoon hot on his tail until he found an old crate. He dug through the linen sheets, grabbing the dirty fabric in his paws. Three tiny heads popped up from the crate. His new raccoon friend screeched at him and Jaskier fell backwards back onto the ground, away from the kits, shifting into mouse. The raccoon stared at him, perplexed, and only once Jaskier was certain the raccoon wouldn’t attack him, he shifted back. Cautiously he approached the kits, they were so small and helpless, hidden away from the world. The raccoon he’d met must be their mother, judging by her reaction to his discovering the kits.

He almost felt bad for stealing her dinner now, almost.

He could bring them some food from the university. He squeaked and nuzzled the other raccoon’s cheek, before shifting into a raven and taking off into the sky. Once he was back in his rooms, he got dressed and went down to the kitchens to collect a bowlful of old gruel for his new little friends. The baby raccoons had been hungry, he knew that much, and he’d stolen precious food from their mother. He wrapped his arms round his stomach, pinching at the fat that now clung to his waist, he chuckled. He really hadn’t needed the second dinner but it was too late now. He was just extra cuddly, that was what Geralt kept telling him, and he was inclined to agree.

He returned to the small family of raccoons every night, bringing them food and fresh water. It was probably an odd sight to see a blue-eyed raccoon carrying a bowl of gruel through the streets of Oxenfurt each night, but he tried to keep to the shadows wherever possible. After a couple of days the mother stopped trying to attack him whenever he got too close to her kits. It wasn’t his pack at Kaer Morhen but the little raccoon family took the edge of the loneliness that plagued his heart. Raccoons were mischievous little creatures and Jaskier had had the best time, well as good as he could have without his real pack. He wondered what Lambert would say if he saw Jaskier cuddling up with a family of raccoons, the ass would probably be jealous. He’d been reluctant enough to share Jaskier’s wolfy cuddles with Aiden, and, from Jaskier had seen of the pair, Lambert was pretty fond of the cat witcher.

He’d been visiting the raccoons for just over a week when a new smell caught his attention. He squeaked and scarpered from the shitty crate where the raccoon family made their home. He couldn’t run fast enough through the streets and he launched himself at Geralt as soon as he was within reach. Luckily Geralt’s witcher refllexes meant that he caught Jaskier mid-air.

“Jask?”

Jaskier chattered and pawed at Geralt’s face, nuzzling into his neck. Geralt pulled him away from his face and Jaskier snapped his teeth, holding out his paws, clawing at Geralt’s armour.

Geralt scowled and looked into Jaskier’s eyes. “You stink, Jask.”

Jaskier snarled and hissed at his partner. He’d been bathing regularly in his rooms, partly because he’d been rolling around in rotten food most evenings, but he was a clean raccoon thank you very much!

“Come on, Jask. Let’s get you back to the university,” Geralt said, chuckling as he cradled Jaskier in his arms, but Jaskier clawed at his armour, he couldn’t just leave his raccoon friend and her kits, not without showing Geralt.

He scrambled free from Geralt’s arms and tilted his head, gesturing for Geralt to follow him. Geralt scowled and adjusted the straps going across his chest. “You want me to follow?”

Jaskier nodded and tugged at the cuffs of Geralt’s trousers.

“Alright, lead the way, but after you’re having a bath.”

Jaskier snarled quietly but ran off through the streets, looking behind him to check Geralt was still nearby, until they reached the old crate. The kits squeaked away as Jaskier pawed at the linen that kept them hidden from the world. Jaskier jumped into the crate and let the kits crawl over him.

Geralt knelt down and scratched Jaskier on the head. “Please tell me that these are not…”

Jaskier let out his best raccoon-y laugh at the look on Geralt’s face. He looked absolutely horrified. He opened his mouth a few times with no words coming out, stammering as he let the baby raccoons sniff his hand. Geralt was lucky their mother was busy foraging around the town. There was no way she would have let Geralt get so close to her babies. Jaskier eventually took pity on his witcher and held his paws out so that Geralt would pick him up. Geralt scooped him up in his arms and Jaskier shifted into a cat, nuzzling Geralt’s chest and letting out a low rumble in his chest.

“You have some explaining to do, Jask,” Geralt hummed as he stroked his fingers through Jaskier’s fur.

Jaskier meowed and rubbed his head under Geralt’s chin, just happy to be back in his darling’s arms again. When they reached Jaskier’s rooms at the university, having told the staff that Geralt was bringing Mister Fuzzball in to see Mr Pankratz, Jaskier shifted in Geralt arms. Geralt grunted under the sudden weight of a human in his arms, Jaskier chuckled and snuggled up against his lover’s chest.

“I missed you,” he murmured into Geralt’s armour.

Geralt carried him over to the bed and gently lowered Jaskier down. Jaskier whined, reluctant to let Geralt go. Geralt huffed a laugh and clambered onto the bed next to him. Jaskier grinned and reached up to kiss Geralt, it really had been so long, but the bastard covered his mouth with his hand.

“Hmmph!” Jaskier scowled, licking Geralt’s palm to try and wriggle free from the witcher’s grip.

“You still need a bath, I’m not kissing you until you do,” Geralt smirked at Jaskier, the bastard. “You stink.”

Jaskier finally managed to pull Geralt’s hand from him mouth, he narrowed his eyes. “Says the witcher, who only bathes when he covered in monster guts.”

“I’ve not been rolling round in rotting food.”

Jaskier snorted. “You’re just jealous that I found a surrogate pack whilst you were away.”

“Surrogate?”

“Yes! I’ve not been fathering baby raccoons whilst you’re out on monster hunts, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier wrinkled his nose. “I can’t believe you even thought that! I’m still human-ish. No, Geralt.”

“But…”

“No,” Jaskier stated emphatically. “Now call a bath. If you’re going to be fussy about it. You can help wash my hair, and then I am snogging you senseless and we are cuddling.”

Geralt laughed, stroking a thumb along Jaskier’s cheek. “Needy bastard.”

Jaskier grinned. “Obviously,” then his grin fell from his face as a thought hit him. “You did miss me?”

Geralt sighed, lying down and pulling Jaskier onto his chest. “Yeah, felt strange being alone on the path again. I didn’t realise how quiet it was before I met you. I never thought I needed anyone, and then you came along.”

Jaskier hummed and laced their fingers together. “I am very lovable.”

Geralt chuckled. “Wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oi!”

“Love you,” Geralt hummed, squeezing Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier grinned, his free hand toying at Geralt’s armour. “I love you too, darling. Now, I think it is terribly unfair that I’m completely naked—”

“You’re always naked.”

“— And you are fully clothed,” he finished, ignoring Geralt’s rude interruption “so how about that bath?”

“Together?”

“Tub’s big enough for two,” Jaskier grinned and before Geralt could stop him captured his lips in a kiss. Geralt groaned but allowed Jaskier to kiss him, grimacing as he pulled away. “What?”

“What the fuck have you been eating?”

“Bit rich from Mr I’ll-Eat-Chicken-Sandwiches-From-A-Corpse,” he swatted Geralt’s arm. “Go, call for a bath, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Geralt hummed, shuffling off the bed. Jaskier watched him go with a fond smile, happily taking in the sight of Geralt’s arse in those delightfully tight trousers. It had been healthy to spend some time apart. He really had loved teaching, it had given him something to do instead of moping and feeling sorry for himself after his ordeal, especially with Geralt’s return to the path. Jaskier hadn’t been selfish enough to force Geralt to stay with him in Oxenfurt whilst he worked off his debt with the university but Gods he had really missed Geralt, and his criminally perfect bottom.

He sighed happily as he stretched out on the bed, burying under the sheets, sleep threatening to pull him under. He’d not slept much since he’s started his night time adventures around the city but with Geralt back by his side, he felt safe again, and he was ever so tired. A quick nap wouldn’t harm anyone whilst the staff got their bath ready. He hummed happily and shifted back into a raccoon, a habit from the last few days. He hid under the covers and wrapped his tail around him.

It was good to be home.

_____

Next Story!

[twistedtummies2]

The Mad Doctor of Night Raven (Commission)

Another commission; this is from the same person who created Tock Crockwork and Caelyum in past stories. This time, we introduce another OC of theirs: Xavier Madoc, based on The Mad Doctor from Epic Mickey. This is also my first time properly writing for Idia and Ortho! :D

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“You sure this is everything you need, me hearties?”

“Nya! It better be! Some of this is heavy!” You smirked as you adjusted the box of electronic equipment in your arms. You checked on your companions, who were carrying similar boxes. To your right strolled Grim, the fire-eared, trident-tailed, cat-like imp. He was carrying a very small box - fitting for his size - while yours was more medium sized. A box matching the size of yours was in the arms of your more human comrade: a tall, slender young man with long, fuschia-colored dreadlocks, dressed all in brown. “Thanks for the help, Cael,” you said to him gratefully. Caelyum De Macabre shrugged cheerily. “Don’t mention it!” he chuckled. “For one thing, helping you get this stuff was part of my job at the Mystery Shop. Sam prides himself on having everything; if I couldn’t find something like all this, he might dock my pay.” “Would he?” you blinked. “Probably not, but he MIGHT,” huffed Cael. “And as for carrying some of this…” His smile became more bashful. “...I owe you both. If it weren’t for you all...I might not have been able to reconcile with Mia.” “How is she, by the way?” you asked, tilting your head, then smirked teasingly. “Have you proposed yet?” “Well...um...yes and no?” chuckled Cael, pausing to flick a stray dreadlock out of his face before continuing. “We had a talk about that, actually, and...we decided it would be best to wait to get married till after I finished school.” “Well, as soon as you have your wedding, make sure you guys send me and Grim an invite!” Cael nodded to say he would, then both of you paused as you heard a sort of growly groan come from Grim. “Having trouble, Little Monster?” Cael asked, tilting his own head this time. “I wish people would stop calling me that,” grumbled the imp, and continued to march onward, tail flicking angrily behind him as the blue flames in his ears crackled faintly. “I’ve got it. The Great Grim won’t be defeated by a box!” He paused, blinked, then mumbled: “That’s something I didn’t think I’d say today…” Both yourself and Caelyum snickered.

“Why’d the otaku guy ask for all this, anyway?” Cael asked as the three of you continued on. “It’s for the science expo!” Grim said. “Science expo?” frowned Caelyum. “Idia’s final exam,” you nodded, and explained: “Crowley is holding a science expo here in a couple of weeks, and Idia has to create something for it for one of his classes.” “Well...cool, but why are YOU guys getting it?” “Because the thought of leaving his room multiple times to take multiple trips nearly made Idia have a heart attack,” you answered, dryly. Cael blinked...then sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “From what little I’ve seen of Shroud, that sounds about right.” “I hope he appreciates the help,” huffed Grim, and bounced the box of equipment in his little arms as he continued to march forward, moving ahead of you both. “It’s not easy hauling all this from the Mystery Shop all the way Igni-YIPE!” Grim let out a shrill yelp, and fell back onto his bunce; he’d bumped into something, which hit the floor with a crash. The box full of equipment fell to the ground. Yourself and Cael quickly but carefully put down your own boxes and hurried to gather the fallen items and inspect them swiftly, while Grim growled and rubbed his sore haunches. “Nothing’s damaged,” Cael sighed with relief. “Are you alright, Grim?” you asked. “No,” pouted Grim. “My dignity is wounded, and it’s hard keeping it intact as it is.” You smirked affectionately. “Oh my gosh!” exclaimed a new voice. “Are you okay?!” The three of you looked up to see a new figure rushing towards you all. The figure was a young man, dressed in the black-and-blue, informal, leather-jacket-clad dorm costume of Ignihyde. His skin was pale, and he had moppish hair, which had been dyed mint green with blue tips. His eyes were heterochromatic, and similarly colored: one was emerald, the other cobalt. He was somewhat gangly in build, yet handsome in features. “Nya...I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Grim muttered out, stumbling back onto his hindpaws and dusting off his fur. “I wasn’t talking to you!” the young man snapped, catching Grim off-guard...then knelt down to what Grim had bumped into. “Abe! Abe, are you okay?” The figured Grim had bumped into, you soon realized, was a robot. It was dressed like a porter, and - in contrast to the synthetic skin and almost fully human appearance of Ortho Shroud - had a decidedly mechanical, industrial look: all metal plates and gear-twisting joints. Its face was mask-like, with two yellow lamps for eyes. The robot shook its head with a whirring noise, as if to clear it, then the mute bot - it had no mouth - nodded to the young Ignihyde student. The mint-eyed boy sighed with relief, and smiled at the bot as if it were an old friend, patting its shoulder. Then, he glared at Grim almost childishly. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!” the lad snapped. “Me?!” snapped Grim, stomping one foot angrily, ear-fire flaring up. “Your stupid robot was the one who bumped into me!” The green-and-blue-haired youth gasped, looking deeply offended, and hugged Abe close. “Don’t listen to the mean little raccoon, Abe,” he crooned to the bot, stroking the back of its head like it was his child. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” “I AM NOT A RACCOON!” screamed Grim. “I don’t even LOOK like one; why does everyone keep calling me that?!” The student from Ignihyde was too busy fawning over his robot like it was a spoiled child to answer. The robot squirmed, its yellow eyes flickering; you got the feeling that if a machine had the power to blush, Abe would have been doing so from all the attention. Grim pouted and grumbled while yourself and Caelyum stepped closer to address the newcomer, who helped the robot to its feet. The machine called Abe clattered and clanked a bit as the young man pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began to check over the mechanical wonder’s form. “Buddy, I keep telling you, you have to make sure to look both ways,” whispered the young scientist. “Maybe some of your circuits need rewiring; it’s like your memory bank has a hole or two in it somewhere. Tch. My fault for using-” “Excuse me,” you spoke up. “Who are you?” The Ignihyde student looked to you...then smiled. “Oh, hey there!” he said, waving with the hand that held the screwdriver. “Name’s Xavier. Xavier Madoc, if you, ah, wanna get all formal and stuff, heh. I’m a, uh, first year here in the dorm. I was just taking my buddy Abe here for a tour around the campus!” He patted his robot’s back; Abe stumbled forward, and rubbed his arm, looking a little nervous as he nodded to you in greeting. Sensing the AI’s anxiety, you gave a disarming smile of your own and bowed your head in return. This seemed to make Abe perk up a bit. “Nice to meet you both,” you said. “Speak for yourself,” mumbled Grim. “Hey, not Abe’s fault you’re an imperfect specimen of biology,” frowned Xavier. Before either yourself or Grim could point out Abe was clearly not a perfect machine, either, Xavier’s eyes lit up with recognition as he noticed the other member of the party. “Oh, it’s you again! Kale, yeah?” “Cael,” De Macabre corrected, with a mild smile. “Is this your presentation for the science expo?” “Pffft! Oh-ho, yeah, like...c’mon. Making artificial life? That’s, like, SO twenty years ago,” Xavier snorted. “Nope! I’ve got somethin’ a whole lot bigger in mind! It’s gonna REALLY put me on the map!” “After how much all those parts cost you, I should hope so,” mumbled Caelyum. “Hold on, back up,” you said, giving a  “time out” gesture. “The two of you know each other?” “Only peripherally,” admitted the shopkeeper’s aid. “Just like you guys, I helped Xavier pick out some items for his project.”

“Cool,” you commented. “They work perfectly, by the way!” Xavier butted in, and then giddlily clapped his hands. “Ohhhh, this is gonna Rock. The. World. Like, if there was a world, and my new invention could hold it, it would just…” He made explosive noises as he mimed shaking something in his hands, then puffed them out with a long, whining “Aaaaaah!” noise. “...That would be it,” he declared, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing is gonna top this one, nothing!” “Well, you seem pretty confident,” you chuckled. “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know...well, actually, I know, like, a lot of things, I guess?” Xavier frowned, turning his eyes heavenward as he counted on his fingers. “I mean, there’s, like mechanical engineering, alchemy, anatomy, welding, potion making, computer science...basically, yeah, if there’s one thing I can do, it’s how to make something awesome. With SCIENCE!” The last word was spoken with great melodrama, complete with Xavier lifting one hand theatrically, throwing his head back with pride and puffing out his chest arrogantly. Abe seemed to roll his eyes at his creator’s hammy attitude. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” Cael said warningly, as he stepped back to lift his box up off the floor. “Yeah! Especially with all this to contend with,” Grim grinned a little smugly, picking his own box back up as well. Xavier frowned as he saw you lift the third and final box, now looking both curious and perhaps borderline suspicious. “Yeah, about that...what’s with all the toys?” he said, pointing to the box with a slight frown, as if the items within were beneath him. “Is there, like, a kid entering the expo, or are you cleaning out trash…?” You blinked, and the three in your party shared looks. The strange part about that comment was it didn’t sound like it was meant to be an insult. Xavier seriously seemed to see the tools in the boxes as inferior. “These are for Idia. Your dorm head,” you said, slowly. Xavier’s eyes widened, and so did his smile. “Oh! Oh, COOL! So, wait, holdupholdupholdup...you’re saying Idia Shroud - THE Idia Shroud - is gonna come outta his hideout and tussle with the muscle at the contest?” “That’s...one way of putting it, yep,” you answered unsteadily. “That’s TERRIFIC!” Xavier exclaimed, clapping his hands and bouncing on his heels with giddy delight. Abe tilted his head with curiosity, and Xavier, noticing the robot’s reaction, decided to explain. “When I beat Idia, that’ll be, like, the best thing ever!” Madoc told Abe. “I can finally show just how perfect and brilliant my machines are! Abe, it’s gonna be DA BOMB! HA HA HA!” Xavier cackled with almost unhinged delight, pumping his fists. Abe turned his lamplike eyes towards your group. You see what I have to put up with? he seemed to be saying. “Be wary,” Caelyum warned. “You shouldn’t underestimate Shroud: he’s dorm head for a reason. He literally made his own brother, you know; have you made anything that impressive before?” Xavier looked to Cael...and his smile fell. A sudden coldness came over his expression, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying my machines aren’t impressive?” he whispered, his voice lowering an octave. “No, I don’t think he’s saying that at all!” you interrupted, sensing the tension and wanting to cut it short. “Just...um...Idia’s not half bad either, you know.” Xavier smirked, but his eyes were still glittering like emerald daggers. “Hmph. He may be dorm head, but he’s got nothing on The Madoc,” Xavier boasted, jabbing a thumb at himself...then, his eyes brightened, and his whole being became exuberant once more. “Hey! Hey, you should totally come see the expo! All of you! That’d be great!” “Then we could see you win, huh?” you smirked right back, already sensing his thoughts. “Well...or see the others lose,” he said with a sinister laugh. “Your choice of how you wanna word it.” “Nya...that seems a jerky way to put it,” grumbled Grim, but no one paid attention to him. “Well, Crowley is probably gonna ask us to do something there anyways, with his track record,” you muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw you there.” “Perfect,” smiled Xavier, then cocked his head innocently. “Uh...right, I, ah...yeah, just realized I never got who YOU were?” You gave your name quickly. “I’m Prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm,” you explained, and pointed to Grim. “This is Grim.” “Aww...nice that your dorm allows pets.” Grim looked like he was pondering the many ways he coil make life excruciatingly painful for Xavier Madoc. “Why do you say that?” Cael spoke up. “Does yours not?” “Honestly, I dunno,” shrugged Xavier. “I’ve never had a pet. Never wanted one, really.” He tapped Abe on the chest; the robot - who had been staring off at something on a wall - jumped at the clanking on his abdomen. “I just deal with machines,” he said. “Pets are so...fussy. And unpredictable. You have to feed them and clean up their mess...my machines are clean and easy to handle. A machine can’t leave you or get sick; if there’s a malfunction, just a touch of oil or a twist of a wrench, and it’s all fixed, usually! And, hey, if something breaks, I can just rebuild it!” Abe looked hurt. “Oh, not you, buddy,” Xavier chuckled, patting his metal shoulder. “You’re irreplaceable.” Abe seemed to smile, but since he had no visible lips, you couldn’t tell. “I think it’s a good thing to have pets,” Caelyum argued, then gave a joking smile. “Maybe you should buy a lab rat or something?” Xavier shuddered. “Right, and be around animals AND people? Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” “And you were teasing Idia about leaving HIS hideout?” Grim taunted. Xavier glared at him. “I’m not scared of people,” he protested. “I just...don’t like crowds. I don’t like most people, either.” “You seem to be chatting easily with us,” you observed. “Well...yeah, but…no offense, I’m not gonna be inviting you to my lab anytime soon,” Xavier smiled weakly. “I like my privacy, that’s all.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Speaking of,” Xavier went on, without waiting to see if you WOULD respond, “I gotta get back to work: I’ve gotta work out some clibrations for my new invention, then maybe see about modifying Abe’s storage banks, not to mention figuring out a few blueprints for future projects…” “Jeeze, don’t you do anything fun?!” Grim exclaimed. “Science IS fun,” huffed Xavier, sticking his nose up snootily. “And I don’t see a reason to stand here and be insulted by a furball.” While Grim sputtered, offended, Xavier looked to Abe. “Come, my friend!” he called out, theatrically. “Back to the laboratory!” Abe saluted, and he and his creator turned on their heels before marching away. The metallic footsteps of the robot echoed down the hall for several seconds after they vanished from sight. “I don’t like him,” grumbled Grim. “We gathered that,” Caelyum smirked. “He seems...eccentric,” you murmured, then shook your head. “Then again, I guess it’d be hard to find anybody at this school who ISN’T at least a little bit odd.” “He seemed like a good sort to me,” Cael nodded, then frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bit too sure of himself for his own good...not to mention a little too antisocial…” “Hey, I’ve dealt with Idia; trust me, that was nothing on the antisocial level,” you scoffed, as the three of you went down a side passage and headed off to find Idia’s room. “That’s not quite what I mean,” mumbled Caelyum, and then went on, aloud. “You know the donation jar at the Mystery Shop?” “You mean for the Medical Center?” “Yeah,” Cael said. “He didn’t donate anything. That’s not surprising, I guess, and it wouldn’t have really bothered me at all - donations from customers are hit and miss, always - but when I asked him if he’d like to make a donation, his response was…unsettling.” “Nya?” Grim meowed, one ear flicking with curiosity. “And what did he say?” “He said, ‘Sorry, but there are too many people out there to worry about the sick ones.’” You blinked...then scowled. “Okay...that’s...not very nice...and a little confusing,” you murmured. “Yeah,” Caelyum said. “The weirdest part was he then started rambling about the machines in the Medical Center. He seemed more interested in how the machines worked than what they actually did to help people.” You glanced back over your shoulder. Now, you were starting to feel worried. A person that strange, that obsessed, and that sure of his own superiority… ...Suddenly, Xavier’s eccentricities were starting to take a more sinister undercurrent. “Let’s just forget about him,” snorted Grim. “Come on, the scaredy-cat’s waiting!” “Right,” you muttered, then shook your head to clear it, and picked up the pace, this time taking the lead yourself. “Come on, you two...if Idia’s going to have any shot at that science expo - Madoc or no Madoc - he’ll need these parts.’

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Several weeks later, the science expo at Night Raven College commenced. Various students from across the campus were readying their inventions and projects. You had been right, of course: the Headmaster had, indeed, demanded that you attend the expo. As custodians, your job was to help those preparing their experiments, and to clean up any messes that might come up. By some miracle, not a drop of an acid, nor a bit of any base, had yet to stain the floor, and nothing solid had broken. Of course, that could change at any time, so yourself and Grim wandered around the expo, peeking at different experiments on display. A lot of what was being shown you didn’t fully understand - science had never been your strongest point - and, truth be told, the majority of the students involved were not ones you knew personally. There were, however, two familiar faces you were hoping to see. “Nya...where are the Shrouds?” meowed Grim, flicking his tail from side to side and blinking his big blue-green eyes up at you. “Shouldn’t Idia and Ortho have set up their panel already.” “Yeah, they should have,” you nodded. “Maybe they just didn’t get things ready in time?” “Not the way I heard it.” The voice caught your attention, and both yourself and Grim smiled as you saw who it belonged to. “Oh, Cael! So you came here after all, huh?” you grinned. “Yup. I actually invited Mia, but she couldn’t make it; some kind of royal business,” the shopkeeper’s assistant shrugged. “I wanted to see how the items Sam and I sold were being used, so I asked him if I could get out of my job at the Mystery Shop a few hours early to check things out.” “I see. I’m sorry to hear Mia couldn’t make it,” you said, sympathetically. Caelyum smiled gently. “For years I lived without her,” he said, faintly. “Even if we’re not together, my heart will always be with her...and hers with mine…” “Ugh...gag me,” sneered Grim. “You don’t have to make it sound so dramatic, you know; you’re a bigger ham than the guys at Pomefiore!” Cael blushed and you giggled. “Anyway...Ortho told me he and Idia had finished their work,” Caelyum informed you and the imp. “They actually have it stored here at the hall, since they felt that would make it easier for transport and setup.” “That’s strange, then. Even Idia usually isn’t late for these things,” you murmured, looking a little concerned. “He’s not?” Cael asked, curiously. “I would have thought, with his reputation, he would try his hardest to avoid them.” “Well, Idia usually has Ortho attend the Dorm Leader Meetings - and other events - and then uses his computer to do a voice stream from his room,” you explained. “That way he can make his presentations without having to face the crowds directly. There should be no reason for at least one of them to not be-” “Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through! Thank you!” “Idon’twannagoIdon’twannagoIdon’twannagohelphelphelp…!” Grim turned around fast at the sound of the familiar voices, and tugged on your leg, pointing in the direction they were coming from. Both you and Cael quickly looked in the direction he had indicated, and saw the crowd of students and helpful staff members parting… ...Revealing the form of Ortho Shroud, who all but skipped merrily along through the campus convention hall where the expo was being held, dragging along what looked like an enormous black-and-blue bag. You quickly realized the “enormous bag” was really Idia Shroud, who was lying belly down on the floor. His dead-white hands were holding up his hoodie in a steel-knuckled grip, while his glowing blue, ethereal hair spilled across the floor from under it. Ortho noticed your group soon enough; his cybernetic eyes widened, and he waved, trotting over to three of you. You looked to Caelyum, who was staring bug-eyed, stunned by the bizarre tableaux. You had to admit, it said something that, somehow, you were a lot less weirded out. “Hi ya, Prefect!” Ortho chirped in his electronic way, as he stopped a few feet away from your trio. You could see that, now at a standstill, Idia was shaking like a leaf. “Uhhhh...hi,” you greeted awkwardly. “Nya! Why are you two so late?” Grim grimaced. “And what exactly is going on?” Cael asked, sounding like he was trying not to shout that out in confusion. “Oh! Well, um, Big Brother’s thingamajig that he uses for remote conference? It, uh...kinda had a malfunction,” Ortho said, an embarrassed smile flickering behind the mask-like apparatus on his android face. “Malfunction?” the three of you repeated, looking at each other, and then back at Ortho. “Yeah,” Ortho said, and scratched the back of his head. “My brother convinced a stray cat into our room so he could give it some food...but when he tried to snuggle it, it bolted back out the window, and knocked the device off a table and onto the floor. We...didn’t have time to fix it.” A keening whine from Idia made it hard from you to determine if you should laugh or just feel sorry for the poor, anxious noble son. “Yeesh...and that’s what all this is about, huh?” “Yep!” Ortho siad, cheerily. “Big Brother still has to attend his final for the class, after all! So I made sure to get him here with enough time to set up shop!” Ortho’s chest was puffed out with pride; you swore, if he had a tail, it would have been wagging like a puppy’s. You couldn’t help but smile, even as Grim and Cael both rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chests. “Well, good job, Ortho; that’s being responsible!” you said, and playfully patted the boy-like droid’s head; you would never understand how that fire-like hair DIDN’T burn your fingers, but no matter. “I’m sure once he’s done having a panic attack, he’ll be proud of you.” Ortho giggled happily and his eyes crinkled with another sweet “smile.” You now turned your attention to Idia, as Ortho released his leg. The instant, Idia felt his leg being let go, he stopped shaking and froze. Slowly, he rolled onto his back...and huge amber yellow eyes, glowing like warning lights, peered out from behind the hoodie. Idia took one look at the crowd in the hall, and the faces looking at him...and squeaked like a mouse before hiding his face. He clumsily tried to get to his feet and run away...only to let out a shrill, strangled sound as he tripped on his own feet and fell over. Ortho let out an “eep!” and rushed to catch hold of his brother before the computer genius could eat tile. “Nervous, Idia?” Grim drawled with a smirk. Cael couldn’t help but chuckle as Idia whimpered with terror, quivering once again. “P-People,” came Idia’s voice behind his hood. “Too...t-too many people...please...t-take me back to my room...I-I’d rather watch the English dubbing of Ghost Stories than do this…heck, I’d rather play Iron Gear: Survive than be here...!” “Not till you finish your presentation,” Ortho said. “Come on, Big Brother! Show everybody how cool you are!” “I don’t wanna be cool!” Idia nearly sobbed. “Please, not this! Not…” He gulped and nearly choked on the next words. “...T-Talking to people...having them judge me...no, no, not that…” Idia shook his head behind his hood stubbornly. Ortho looked at you helplessly. You sighed and knelt down to Idia’s level. You cautiously reached out to the trembling socially anxious scientist, who whimpered as he felt your hands brush against him, and curled up tightly, as if afraid of being struck. With a sympathetic smile, you carefully parted his hands and pulled down his hood. His face now fully exposed to the outside world, Idia blinked his giant yellow eyes at you with real fear. His dark lips were trembling, and you swore those golden irises were getting a little misty as he looked on the verge of crying with fear. You could hear his shark-like teeth chattering as if winter had come early that year. “Idia,” you said softly, “It’s got to be done, and you’re the only one who can do it.” “Why is that?” peeped Idia, childishly. “Because it’s YOUR creation, Idia,” you said, with an encouraging smile. “No one knows it better than you do.” “Yeah! It’s not like we can talk about all this science-y junk!” Grim broke in...then subsided when Idia reacted by looking hurt, while Ortho gave him an almost murderous glare. “The presentation only has to be a few minutes long,” Cael thought to put in helpfully. “A few SECONDS is too much!” Idia said, and hurried to try and hide his face again...but you prevented it with your hands as you carefully held his wrists. His black-nailed fingers twitched with mortal dread as he looked into your earnest, honest eyes. “Idia, does Ortho know anything about the project?” “Well...n-no, not enough to tell them everything,” Idia admitted, squirming uncomfortably and almost guiltily, like a child admitting he’d stolen five cookies from the cookie jar. “Is there anybody else who could give the presentation on your behalf, with the knowledge you have?” Idia blinked. Those last few words seemed to have stirred something in his breast, and he looked at you anew, blinking a few times, as realization dawned on his pale face. “...No...I guess not,” he said, softly. “Well then?” you urged, tenderly, raising one eyebrow. Idia bit his lip; his sharp teeth almost drew blood. (Almost.) “...But...b-but I’m scared,” he cheeped out, like a wounded baby bird. It took all your willpower not to kiss his forehead. How could a denizen of the Underworld be so friggin’ cute?! “It’s okay to be scared,” you assured him. “Being brave means doing things even though you are scared.” “No, being brave means enduring unpleasant situations without showing fear,” Idia droned. “That’s literally in the dictionary.” “And how brave do you think the Lord of the Underworld was when he fought the Mighty Hercules?” “A lot braver than I am!” Idia replied, without missing a beat, and promptly hid his face again, rolling onto his side, like a child refusing to get out of bed. “I’m not doing it!” You bit your own lip, and looked around awkwardly. A LOT of people were staring, and that was only going to make Idia feel worse. You had to pacify this quickly. “Mr. Shroud.” You blinked up at Caelyum, who knelt down beside you with a reassuring smile of his own. Idia peeked out of his hoodie timidly. “Wh-What?” “Once this is over, I’d be happy to give you a free Jumbo Jar of Jelly Babies from the Mystery Shop as a reward for your efforts,” Cael offered. Idia’s eyes went wide at the mention of so much candy. “...F-Free?” “Yes,” Cael nodded. “I’ll just put my own money back into the shop to make up the expense. BUT,” he said, in a stern, almost parental tone, holding up one finger, “You have to at least try to make your presentation first.” Idia licked his lips, but he still looked uncertain. “...What if they don’t like my creation, though?” he whispered, shivering a little. “They’ll love it, Big Brother!” Ortho declared. “It’s the best thing ever! You’re so smart, it has to be!” “And all three of us,” you thought to add, “Will be there. Myself, Cael, and Grim: we’ll be watching and cheering you on.” Idia squirmed again. “...The watching part I could live without, but…” Finally, at long last...he gave a scared, small, hesitant smile. “...The cheering part...I-I’d appreciate it,” he chuckled, and seemed to perk up a bit. “And, h-hey...I get lots of candy out of it, yeah?” “Sugary gummies galore,” winked Caelyum. Idia paused once more, and took a deep breath, before finally relenting: “F-Fine...I’ll...I’ll try not to screw up...” “That’s the spirit, Brother!” cheered Ortho joyously, and helped Idia to his feet. Idia gave a nervous nod to his brother, then gave you a shy wave and a smile that showed just a hint of his pointed teeth, as the young android led him away to another part of the hall. Both yourself and Caelyum stood to your full heights and sighed with relief. “Sam’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled. “He gets pretty strict with inventory; I think it’s the con-man in him…” “Just don’t make a deal with him, and you’ll be fine,” Grim giggled. “You know, maybe another incentive we could have used was a chance for ‘snuggle time’ with a certain ‘Little Monster,’” you said, airily, giving Grim a teasing smile. The cat-like little beast blushed bright red, and his ears flared up. “Th-That’s not funny, Minion!” he snapped, huffishly, while Cael chortled merrily at the thought. Just then, another laugh was heard from the far end of the hall; you recognized it instantly. “Xavier?” you murmured, remembering the strange scientist from a few weeks ago. “Sounds like the judging has begun,” Caelyum remarked, as he noticed a group of official-looking gentlemen, along with some students, gathered in the area. “Nya! Let’s go see what’s up!” Grim suggested, and loped off on all fours to do exactly that. You and Caelyum shrugged to each other, and followed at a casual pace. You soon came to the panel hosted by Xavier. To one side stood Abe, who had traded out his porter’s costume for a buttoned-up labcoat...although, amusing, he still wore his porter’s cap upon his head. The mechanical man’s mask-like, expressionless, featureless face somehow still managed to look rather bashful as he waved shyly at the mob that now surrounded the corner spot. It was Xavier Madoc himself, however, who most arrested your attention. He stood in front of a table, over which was draped a light gray table cloth...and on top of that was a large, oddly-shaped...something. No one could tell what, exactly, for a second tablecloth - also colored gray - was covering it. Xavier was dressed in a long labcoat, which stretched past his knees and halfway down his shins. Underneath this, the eccentric inventor wore blue jeans and white tennis shoes; the former was held up by a peculiar teal-colored belt. A light gray midriff shirt, with black pinstripes, was perhaps the weirdest part of his ensemble; emblazoned on his chest, upon this shirt, was an unusual design: a black-stenciled image that, on one side, resembled a skull, while the other side resembled a clockwork gear, the two parts meshed together unsettlingly. With his wild, wide grin and the way he bowed to the crowd - more like a circus ringmaster than a distinguished scholar - one couldn’t help but find him a most uncommon figure. “Ladies and gentlemen...and undecided!” he greeted, and laughed at his own joke (no one else did, but he didn’t seem to care) before continuing: “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Xavier Madoc! Also, allow me to introduce my trusty counterpart, Abe! His name stands for Assistant Bot Extraordinaire. Yeah, ha, not the most, uh...SCIENTIFIC name I could’ve come up with, but what can I say? I liked the acronym.” Abe rolled his electronic eyes and nodded to the judges, who nodded back before refocusing on Xavier, who rubbed his eyes as he moved to the opposite side of the table from Abe. “Friends and colleagues of science, let us talk about emotions, shall we?” he began, still speaking in an almost carnival-esque tone of voice, which made Cael roll his eyes and scoff. “He sounds almost like Sam at times,” the Swamplands native mumbled. You and Grim smiled at him, then looked back at Xavier as he began his spiel. “Emotions are a fickle thing,” Madoc said, lifting a finger in emphasis. “Emotions can be our strength, but they can also be our weakness. What a beautiful world it would be if we could all be logical, without those...pesky things like jealousy or greed to spur us in the wrong direction. Even here, in a school of black magic, love is just as revered as vengeance. There is a reason, of course...two, really. One, I would argue, is human frailty. We cannot help ourselves; we are, very tragically, made to be feeling creatures more often than thinkers. But another is perhaps more practical, in this particular world...and that, my friends, is that we need it as fuel. Magic is a powerful entity in our world, arguably more than science, and while it is not uncommon for the two to mesh together, no one has found a way to properly harness the power of the human spirit that allows our magic to work. Well, my friends...I, Xavier Madoc, have found the solution to that quandary!” So saying, Xavier through out both arms in a grand gesture and sang out: “TA-DA!” Silence. Nothing happened. The judges and the crowd just stared at Xavier awkwardly. Xavier blinked, then looked to Abe, who was looking around the room blithely. He frowned and whistled, getting the droid’s attention. “Abe,” he said, and pointed to the table. “You’ll want to take off the tablecloth on that cue, ‘kay, buddy?” Abe nodded, and scooted closer to the table. “Thank you,” whispered Xavier, and tried again, louder: “TA-DA!” A horrible grinding sound was heard as Abe grabbed the tablecloth on the table, nearly knocking over the item under the second veil as he gave it a tug. Xavier yelped for him to stop, and swooped in just in time to right the object before it could crash to the floor. You forced yourself not to laugh; Grim and Caelyum were not inclined to do the same. “So much for ‘the perfection of machines,’ huh?” the fluffy little imp whispered. “Hush!” you scolded...but internally, you conceded he had a point. Abe shuffled sheepishly as Xavier brushed his mint-and-cerulean bangs from his face and gave him an impatient, toothy smile. The dark doctor-in-training could hear some of the crowd snickering, and he hated it. “Not THAT tablecloth,” he said through clenched teeth, and pointed to the device under the covering. “THIS tablecloth. Got it?” Abe nodded, looking like a scared child. “Thank you,” Xavier sighed in frustration, and took a deep breath before trying one more time: “TA-DA!” Finally, Abe swirled off the right tablecloth with great panache. Underneath it was unveiled a strange machine, about the size and shape of the average backpack. Most of it was covered in white leather, but several mechanical apparatuses were jutting from it. Among these were two large copper tanks on either side, several steel cylinders, and two long tubes of tough, transparent rubber, which led from one of the sets of caps into the copper tanks. Two beige-colored leather straps were attached, and it was into these straps that Xavier slipped his long, lanky arms, putting the strange pack on his back. “Introducing my newest invention!” Xavier declared with a beaming, proud smile. “The Emotion Reservoir Power Converter - or ERPC, if you want to shorten it. We can’t all have cool acronyms like Abe, heh...ANYWAY! I would argue that negative emotions have more importance here than positive ones: Blot is the result of an overabundance of black magic use, and much of dark wizardry involves the channeling of negative power. The ERPC can drain small doses of negative emotional energy directly from the subject, and then convert them into magical energy, without the user suffering a state of Overblot!” “Can you give us a demonstration?” one of the judges spoke up. He was a portly man, with spectacles perched upon a crooked nose. “I hoped you would ask that, Dr. Alcott,” Xavier answered with a Devil-May-Care wink, then looked to his robotic companion. “Abe? The book, please!” The robot nodded, and reached into the folds of his labcoat, before handing his creator a small book with a bright pink cover. On it was the title “Princess Pony and the Island of Fluffy Squirrels,” by Lorina Faustus. Xavier blushed bright red and swatted at Abe, who hurriedly put the book away while giggles and chuckles once again came from the audience. “I told you not to…! THE OTHER BOOK, ABE!” Abe quickly fished a second book out: this was a black leatherbound volume with the image of a galaxy festooning its front. Xavier took it and sighed, shaking his head before flipping to a bookmarked page. “Here,” he declared, pointing at the page in question and tapping it with a finger, “Is an excellent example. Keep in mind, gentlemen and ladies, I am but a first year here. The spell I’m about to perform is typically a fourth-year level spell, and I have taken no classes on the subject. Should you wish for confirmation of this later, simply consult the members of the staff on standby today.” Xavier thus cleared his throat, and lifted one hand, extending his thin fingers towards the ceiling before mumbling the incantation in the book. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow and gritting his teeth, trying to concentrate...his fingers clawed as he flexed them, arm trembling as he forced all the power he could muster into his spellcasting… A dim, murky cloud of purple - shapeless and formless - hovered over the heads of the judges. Specks and blotches of many hues, like splatters of watercolor on a half-burned piece of parchment, appeared and disappeared...before, finally, Xavier gasped and relinquished the attempt, and the colors all faded, the cloud dissipating in an instant. “Haaaaah...a-as you can...ahem...as you can s-see,” Xavier gasped out, wiping some sweat from his brow. “That was hardly an easy task, gentleman...and hardly a good demonstration of that spell. Thankfully, my new invention can allow me to ‘upgrade’ my abilities, through use of my Unique Magic…” He lifted his left hand, the one that he had first used to try and enact the spell, and flexed his fingers as he recited his magic words. “...Paint & Thinner.” There was a flash of turquoise-toned light...and suddenly, Xavier’s left arm had undergone a startling and somewhat disquieting transformation. The fingers and thumb of his left hand had turned into a set of what looked like syringes, the needles resembling claws, his whole hand now seemingly mechanical and metallic. “My power,” Xavier smirked, flexing his taloned hand, “Allows me to extract emotion from a person. This is the ‘Thinner’ part of the equation. The emotional energy is converted to a liquid state. I can, of course, also return the emotions to their original owners, in a gaseous state: this is the ‘Paint’ aspect. Now, I know this is, uh...you know...a little freaky, but...I’m going to need a volunteer.” He handed the spellbook to Abe and added: “My assistant doesn’t exactly have veins to target.” Naturally, at first, nobody stepped forward. Xavier’s expression shifted, and he started to seem crestfallen, perhaps even a little scared… You sighed, shook your head, and stepped closer, raising one arm. “I volunteer,” you said. Xavier grinned, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Prefect,” he said, and addressed the audience as - with the clinical care of a master surgeon - he pulled you closer by one arm. “Everyone watch closely, please.” He then looked back at you; his voice was the professional, bland calm of a medical expert as he said the timeless refrain: “This won’t hurt a bit.” The syringes were inserted into your arm. You closed your eyes, trying to relax, remembering all the injections you had gotten. You did not feel the slightest prick as they did their work, and soon, bright green fluid - the color of some toxic acid - was drawn from your very body into the syringe fingers. “Sit down,” whispered Xavier, in the same clinical, almost cold tone, easing you into a nearby chair which Abe had prepared. His actions seemed more dismissive than in the vein of proper bedside manners. You sank into it gratefully. You felt...lightheaded. Cold. Almost ill. You didn’t know it at the time, but before the congregation of onlookers, your skin had suddenly turned very, very pale, and your hair and eyes had lost all color. Even your clothes seemed to have become more faded, causing you to look like a monochrome character from a black-and-white movie. You hoped the sickening, hollow sensation inside you wouldn’t last long as Xavier turned to the audience again. “Generally speaking, draining the emotion from the victim will leave them feeling weakened; enough power drawn can lead to them being rendered unconscious. My machine allows me to withdraw more than I would usually be able to manage in a single dose without even touching the subject, should I wish...but for safety purposes, I think we had better focus on the OUTPUT demonstration. Observe…” He closed his eyes...and suddenly, the syringes emptied, as if the power was being drawn through his arm and into his core...then, the same green fluid bubbled through the pipes, and a slosh came from the copper tanks as your emotions filled them with liquid energy. “Now,” said Xavier, and waved a hand for Abe to open the book and show him the page, as his syringe hand lifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see if the emotional energy I’ve drained from my volunteer can be converted to enough magical power, via the ERPC, for the spell I attempted earlier. Remember, everybody: first year here…” Once again, Xavier lifted his hand to the ceiling...and this time, as he spoke the incantation, the purple cloud became a beautiful circle of deep indigo, revealing the boundless reaches of outer space. Splashes of color became perfect images of planets and stars, so real in appearance one swore they could touch them. In fact, one student DID try to touch one...and yelped, as the sun actually burnt their finger slightly. “Careful,” chuckled Xavier, and then flexed his fingers...and the beautiful image disappeared. He then turned to the judges and, without a word, bowed. He had rested his case. The judges seemed most impressed. Dr. Alcott and the others applauded and smiled, looking quite pleased. However, they had other presentations to attend to, and after a few more perfunctory questions, they moved on. As the judges moved on, and the crowd went with them, Xavier looked two, kneeling down to look at your face. You felt dizzy and queasy, and the look on his face indicated he could tell. He extended his fingers. “Breathe normally,” he instructed, and a faint blue mist poured from the needle like fingers...and you sighed as you felt the ill feeling go away. Steadily, the color flooded back into your being at the same time. “Oh, dear Gods...wh-what was that?” “That was what it was like to be drained of emotional energy,” Xavier said, and gave an anxious sort of smile. “Pretty icky, huh?” “You said it,” you grumbled. “That was a bold decision, Prefect,” Cael observed, as Grim nodded in agreement. Both he and the imp looked rather concerned; they had lingered behind to check on you. Abe placed a mute hand upon your shoulder. You glanced up briefly at the featureless mechanical man, then smiled weakly back at your friends. “Well, he needed someone...who else would have done it?” you reasoned, then shuddered. “I really don’t like needles though…” “Not my fault it’s how my power works,” chuckled Xavier, but obligingly lifted his hand and spoke the counter-curse: “Thinner & Paint.” Another flash of blue-green light, and his hand returned to normal. He gave it a shake, then extended it to you. “Thank you for the help,” he said, sincerely. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect anybody to put their best foot forward for me like that…” “I’m glad I could start a new custom,” you said, and shook his hand before shakily standing up. “I still don’t feel quite ready for work though…” “Give it a couple short minutes, and it’ll wear off on its own,” Xavier said sweetly. Just then, more applause came...louder than before. The four of you looked; Xavier frowned and the rest of you perked up as you realized who the next contender was… “The Shrouds!” exclaimed Grim. “Let’s see what they are up to,” suggested Cael. “Right,” you nodded, then smiled at Xavier. “Really cool invention. I hope you win!” Xavier’s eyes widened as he looked back at you, seemingly taken aback by the compliment and well-wishes...then smiled awkwardly. “Heh...uh...th-thanks, um...enjoy the rest of the expo. I mean, no one else is gonna be as awesome, but...you know…” You just laughed, and joined your friends, giving Xavier a wave as you strolled towards the Shrouds’ panel. You never noticed how Xavier’s smile faded into a cold, almost lifeless expression behind you while your back turned away. “No one else is gonna be as awesome,” he whispered to himself, forebodingly. Unaware of the ominous moment that had passed, your gaggle descended with the rest of the onlookers to see what the Head of Ignihyde and his “Baby Brother” had in store. Said “Baby Brother” was brushing humming in a vocoded-sounding way (he WAS an android, after all) as he brushed down a machine on the table. The device was not hidden by anything, the way Xavier’s power pack had been, which meant you and all and sundry could take a peek at it. It was...difficult to describe. The shape of the thing vaguely resembled a small ice maker, colored black and gray, but with three glass tubes on the top, each filled with strange fluids in primary colors: red, yellow, and blue. While Ortho dusted it off, Idia, was standing off to one side; his knees were almost knocking together, and his fingers fiddled endlessly with the dangling pullstrings of his hoodie as he stared at the judges, brow bathed in cold sweat. “Okay, Brother-o’-mine!” cheered Ortho, and looked to Idia happily. “It’s all set.” Idia said nothing. He didn’t move. He stared straight ahead, like a statue, still focused unblinkingly on the judges. “Uh...brother?” Idia whimpered, still frozen and shaking. “BROTHER!” shouted Ortho, fire-hair flaring up and turning orange for a second as he stomped his foot in frustration. Idia yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. “IWASN’TTHINKINGABOUTHIDING!” he exclaimed in a jabbering sort of way...then blinked when he saw Ortho’s pouty expression. (How the android could pout with no visible lips was anyone’s guess.) He flushed; Idia never blushed red or pink, but his cheeks turned a sort of bluish-purple color. “C’mon!” Ortho urged, and gestured towards the group. “They’re waiting.” This did not seem to encourage Idia, who flinched and looked nervously at the impatient judges. “I...um...uh...w-well, uh...aha...er…” You frowned, glancing with concern at Grim and Caelyum; the former matched your expression, while the other mostly looked bored. This was not going well. A thought came to you, and you stepped forward slightly. Idia must have heard your approach, because his eyes quickly darted to see you, and the encouraging smile you gave. Suddenly, he seemed to relax...but only VERY slightly. Idia was the sort to fear he was BREATHING too loudly and that would get on people’s nerves, he could only be so calm. Still, it helped enough for him to clear his throat and begin talking. “Ahem...s-sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, with a nervous smile, tapping his fingers together childishly. “I’m, ah...not used to this sort of...front and center kinda thing, heh...honestly, I wish I were hiding under my blankets right now...BUT! But, ah...I think the device I’ve made will at least be of interest…” So saying, Idia seemed to pluck up some courage. Your own smile widened as he placed a hand on the machine, and his stance straightened. If there was one thing that Shroud could talk about with SOME pride, it was his work. “I don’t need to tell all you that, uh...th-that the source of magic for m-many wizards and witches is their magic crystals, right? Right. So, ah...I, well...I got to thinking: the problem with the crystals is they can...well...run out. We have to mine for them, we have to dig for them, and there’s always a chance that someday...y’know...th-there might not be any left. Which would...kinda suck, ha. SO! I decided to try and create SYNTHETIC crystals…” He tapped the tubes on the top of the machine. “With these three simple potion compounds, mixed together in the right order, I can...well...do that. Using this machine.” “Would you say there are other advantages to this idea?” Dr. Alcott spoke up. “Oh, y-yes!” Idia said, starting to smile as he realized he had someone’s interest, though he seemed a bit nervous when he noticed the way the other judges scribbled some quick notes down. “Ahem...yes, sir. See, with synthetic crystals, not only do you not need to dig them up, but...well...if you have these compounds, and this machine, you can make as many as you like.” “Well, yes,” Dr. Alcott nodded, “But are they any more advantageous than natural crystals?” Idia paused, as if to think on his answer, then nodded slowly. “There is one other thing,” he said, almost shyly. (Well...there was no “almost” about it, this was Idia Shroud, but you gave him the benefit of the wiggle room anyway.) He paused before steadily elaborating: “Synthetic crystals do have a couple of weaknesses. They are not as physically strong as natural ones, for a start, the same way synthetic gems are not as strong as real jewels. You also can’t make them as large as natural crystals, because with the compounds being used, they can become unstable. But, at the average size of the average magic crystal…” He pointed to the one he wore himself, on his arm, before continuing. “...It can actually last longer than a natural crystal. It...well...um...I don’t know how to explain it, actually, but my experiments have shown that...well...you can use them for a longer period of time before worrying about Overblotting.” “Well, that’s definitely an advantage,” smiled Dr. Alcott, seemingly impressed, then turned serious as he scratched a few notes down before speaking again: “Can we see how this machine works?” “Y-Yes! Yes, of course!” nodded Idia...then tapped Ortho on the shoulder. “Little brother? Um...w-would you do the honors?” He then added in a whisper, “I’ll probably mess up…” Your smile became slightly less proud: Idia was still Idia. Ortho just giggled. “You can’t mess up turning the machine on, Big Brother!” he teased quietly, but still obeyed, pressing a button on the contraption. A loud whirring sound was heard, and the potions in the tubes bubbled and then began to lessen in volume; you could hear the sound of fluid being stirred and mixed, followed by the low humming buzz of another item either cooling or heating the stuff inside the machine… ...It only took about two minutes - during which the judges’ attention was raptly focused on the device, and several in the crowd mumbled to one another with interest - and then, with a rattle and a clatter, a teardrop-shaped, transparent, pale blue crystal dropped into a tray inside the machine. Idia opened the lid and pulled the crystal out of the tray, holding it up for everyone to see, then offered it to the judges, who inspected it closely. Finally, Dr. Alcott handed the artificial crystal back to Idia with a smile. “Fine work, young Master Shroud,” he nodded in approval. “Fine work indeed.” The other judges and the audience applauded. Idia smiled bashfully, tucking his head down and mouthing a quiet word of thanks as he hugged the crystal to his chest. Ortho, noticing the way his brother was shaking, gave him an encouraging hug as the mob and the judges - still chatting betwixt themselves - moved away. Once again, yourself and your friends stepped forward, all of you wearing matching grins. “I’m so proud of you!” you cheered, and gave Idia a hug. You felt the eldest Shroud freeze up in your embrace, and couldn’t help but smile still wider; Idia, bless his heart, still wasn’t used to much physical interaction, and you could feel him starting to twitch. You gave him a very gentle, comforting squeeze, and rubbed his back reassuringly. Only then did his arms steadily move upwards to gingerly return the hug. “Nya!” Grim called out happily, trotting over with a wide grin, purring up at the fire-haired Ignihyde head. “You did a lot better than I expected!” “An interesting invention, too,” Cael complimented. “I’m sure you’ll end up with first place!” “Oh, I-I dunno,” mumbled Idia, rubbing one arm and squirming slightly with embarrassment. “I thought Madoc had a pretty cool creation, too…” “His was neat,” nodded Grim, “But I think yours is better.” “His energy converter DID have one noticeable issue,” Cael thought to add, glancing back towards Xavier’s panel - by now, the odd scientist and his assistant had turned their attention away, and were seemingly polishing the power pack. “It depends on HIM in order to work. No one else would be able to use it: it’s not something you can mass produce, because no one else has his Unique Magic.” “That’s true,” Ortho spoke up. “But hey! The basic idea isn’t bad; with a little adjusting, he could make it something really special for everyone to use!” “If he cares enough to try,” mumbled Grim; he subsided at the look you gave him. “It’s up to the judges, and the contest has just started,” you said, crisply, then smiled at Idia once more. “Whatever happens, you did good. Don’t doubt that.” Idia smiled sweetly. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, then glanced at the crystal in his hand and back up at you...before offering it cautiously. “Would you...like a souvenir? Heh…” You chuckled, and took the crystal, placing it in your pocket. “Sure,” you said. “Thanks, Idia.” “Y-You’re w-w-welcome,” stuttered Idia, looking like he was scared of feeling too happy. He paused and cleared his throat with a cough before reaching into his hoodie’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Well, um...I wanna catch up with a new show I’m watching, so...I’m, uh...y’know...gonna go find a nice, safe corner till the judgment call comes, and...well…ju st, uh...exist, heh…” “Can I watch with you, Big Brother?” Ortho peeped hopefully. “Sure,” Idia said with a smile and a nod, then gave you the same gestures before scurrying away, looking like he couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had the power to breathe. Yourself and your two companions chuckled and gave a collective mock salute to the Shroud brothers, as Ortho followed Idia quickly. Then, still chattering amongst yourselves, you hurried to rejoin the group and see what else was at the exposition… None of you were aware of Xavier Madoc’s eyes following the mob’s movements, before glancing back at Idia’s device. One could have sworn his one green eye flashed.

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The exposition had come to an end, and after two hours of deliberation, the judges were ready to deliver their verdict. The contestants had lined up on either side of the room, while the audience sat in chairs before a podium. Yourself, Caelyum, and Grim all took seats in the second row (the front row had filled up too quickly) and watched as Dr. Alcott approached the podium, adjusting his spectacles and shuffling some papers in his hands. You glanced to the right. Along with the other contenders at the expo, Idia and Xavier were naturally lined up, both on the same side of the hall. Xavier stood with a cocksure smile, arms crossed, while Idia was nervously twiddling his fingers, biting his lip with his dagger-like teeth. He looked towards Xavier and smiled nervously. “S-So, uh...may the best man win, huh?” he said, awkwardly. Xavier didn’t even look at the dorm head as he narrowed his eyes and simply said, “Don’t worry. I will.” Idia looked a bit befuddled. Abe and Ortho - who stood beside their corresponding creators - looked at each other and shrugged. The sound of Dr. Alcott brought your attention back to the podium. “It’s time,” Cael and Grim murmured at the same time, as the lead judge addressed the audience, crooked nose pointed high. “Friends of science,” the doctor began, “I am not one for grand speeches or over-sentimentalizing the talents we’ve seen on display here today. Virtually every experiment we viewed today, every invention created or formula concocted, was of interest.As far as those doing this for an assignment go, my supposition is you will all pass with flying colors. However, there can only be one winner: one person to leave this exposition a proper champion.” He snapped his fingers and one of the other judges stepped up beside him, and handed him a trophy, with a golden ornament resembling a ringed planet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Alcott intoned, “The winner of the Annual Science Expo is…” Xavier smirked, and straightened up his labcoat, taking a deep breath, as if ready to thank everyone… “...Mr. Idia Shroud!” Xavier froze, the smile seemingly slapped from his face as his eyes widened. Idia’s eyes widened too, and he gasped in surprise as the crowd applauded. One could almost see tears in his eyes as he realized what had happened. Yourself and your party cheered as Ortho nudged Idia up to the podium to accept his trophy, which he did with trembling fingers. You were grinning from ear to ear, and so was Idia; his shark-toothed smile had never been wider, you felt, nor more genuine in nature. His amber eyes sparkled like a pair of glittering gold coins. As Dr. Alcott began to congratulate Shroud - who was hugging the trophy to his chest almost like a teddy bear - you turned to see the other contenders. Most of them - including Abe - were clapping politely. The only exceptions were Ortho, who was literally dancing with joy… ...And Xavier Madoc. He looked absolutely livid. His face was almost as red as Riddle Rosehearts’ could get, his fists clenched, one eye twitching as he gritted his teeth angrily. His mismatched eyes were burning… You felt your blood run cold as the blue eye was surrounded by a matching aura. “Grim!” you hissed, tapping the feline-like creature on the side. Grim turned fast...and his ears flattened back and he mewed as he saw droplets of ink dripping from the magic crystal Xavier wore… “Oh, no,” he gulped nervously. “What’s wrong?” Caelyum whispered...then frozen when he saw the same. “Oh, barnacles...is that…?” “Overblot,” you replied, gravely. “Here we go again…” Just as Dr. Alcott shook Idia’s hand, and was about to dismiss him, Xavier suddenly let out a screeching cry of apoplectic rage, which startled everyone present. All eyes watched as the white labcoat of the first-year science master flapped behind him like the wings of a huge war bird, as he flew back towards his panel, and hurriedly strapped the ERPC to his back. “Unacceptable!” he shouted. “I will not allow it! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! No one outsmarts me! NOBODY! My machines are perfect! My work is superior in every way! And if you doubt that - if ANYONE STILL doubts that…!” A feral grin came to his face as he extended one arm. “...Then I’ll just have to prove otherwise, won’t I? Paint & Thinner.” A flash of turquoise light was immediately followed by an explosive sound. KA-ZAM! A gale wind ripped through the hall, as a swirl of black mist surrounded Xavier Madoc; you cursed violently under your breath as blue and green light burst through pockets in the spiraling cloud of inky darkness. No doubt Xavier’s strong emotions and the level of magic he had put out earlier had blended together, and with the power pack on, he could burn through magic and cause damage with greater force and strength than you could guess. “Brace yourselves!” you called to Caelyum and Grim, as everyone else in the hall dove or ducked for cover. “This isn’t gonna be easy!” “Is it ever?!” Grim yowled, while Cael simply squinted, watching with you as the mist began to clear… ...And soon, you could see the change that had come over Xavier Madoc. The right side of his body had seemingly not changed at all...but the left was another story. Not only was there now a blue aura surrounding his left eye, not to mention the metallic, syringe-tipped left hand...but his whole left side seemed to have become a cyborganic nightmare. The left side of his face was covered in metal plates, and his entire left arm and leg had become robotic in nature; the clothes on the left side of his body were seemingly frayed and shredded, exposing portions of a metal chest and clockwork-esque innards. In-between the joints of his limbs and face, black ink oozed like oil. Xavier’s one green eye was feral looking; bloodshot with a pinprick pupil. He grinned in a manic way, and let out a cackling laugh that rebounded off the hall walls. “HA HA HA HA HA! You dared to overlook my creations?! You spurned my talents, eh?! Then let me show just how powerful I can REALLY become!” he roared, and the ERPC roared to life as he thrust out his syringe hand. “I told you, I can extend my unique abilities without proximity! So now...NOW, ALL OF YOU, GIVE ME YOUR POWER!” In horrific fashion, the needles extended...and five members in the crowd collapsed as they were pricked, turning gray and pallid. Their entire being became monochrome as, in a split second, all emotion was drained from them and into Xavier’s being. Xavier shot out his claws again, the protracting talons jabbing into another five people and rendering them the same. Now, panic set in, and people screamed as they raced for the door. “Don’t leave in such a rush!” laughed Madoc, and snapped the fingers of his one human hand. The doors suddenly shifted, becoming solid walls, and all the windows clicked as they were locked into place. “The party’s just beginning!” Xavier’s claws lunged at you now, but yourself, Grim, and Cael all quickly dropped, ducking the attack. Three other people who had been standing behind you, along with two more, were drained in your stead. Xavier shuddered, a toxic aura surrounding him as the tanks were filled with more and more emotional energy. “More...MORE!” he bellowed. “If I can’t have your respect, I will have your rage...your despair...your panice...fuel me! FUEL ME!” Idia and Dr. Alcott ducked behind the podium with twin yelps. Ortho hurried to check on his brother, and barely avoided the needles as they shot out. The other judges weren’t so lucky, and crumpled in an unconscious, grayscale-colored heap as their emotions were drained. Abe rushed forward to try and stop his creator, desperately grabbing hold of Xavier’s one human arm. Xavier snarled, gnashing his teeth. “Imbecile and traitor!” he roared into the droid’s pleading face. “I have no further use for YOU!” Xavier jerked away his human hand, then, with a sneer, thrust it out again...and - THOOM! - a magical shockwave slammed into Abe’s chest, sending the robot flying. He crashed down beside your trio, the three of you still lying on the ground as Xavier continued to stick his needles into everyone who moved. The room was in a panic, the other contestants’ creations smashing on the floor as people dove for cover. Slowly, Xavier began to make his way through the hall, laughing dementedly. “All this over a freaking trophy?!” hissed Grim. “I think there’s got to be more to it,” mumbled Caelyum. Abe nodded, as if to confirm this, and then gave you a look as if to ask, Now what? This was the burning question; you had to figure out a way to keep Xavier from hurting more people, as well as remove the power pack. As long as he still had the converter on, his power wouldn’t drop. He could potentially stay in Overblot for a much longer period of time, burning the power almost as quickly as he got it...growing just strong enough to overwhelm… “Okay, I’ve got a plan,” you said at last, and whispered to your compatriots. “Listen closely…” Xavier, meanwhile, grinned as he approached a group of people, huddled together. “Let’s try an experiment,” he hissed, a mad grin on the young doctor’s face as he lifted his syringe hand. “I now know how swiftly I can drain an organism...now, can I make it more slow and painful?” He cackled, his victims babbling pleas for him to stop as he lifted his hand, preparing to shoot out the razor-sharp needles and drain them dry. “Every emotion in your body...slowly siphoning into mine...let’s see how long it can really-” FWOOSH! “Nya! Back off, crazy-coat!” Xavier jumped back with an almost animalistic sneer, and swirled his ragged cape around as he looked towards the source of the fire that had distracted him. Grim was standing in a ready pose, balls of blue flame held in each forepaw as he smirked challengingly. “Insufferable hairball!” shouted Xavier. “I WILL NOT BE DENIED! I WILL HAVE MORE POWER!” He lunged at Grim, swiping with his robotic talons, but Grim moved aside quickly. As Xavier plunged towards him, a loud smashing sound was heard from behind. The mad doctor turned quickly, and his one good eye widened in surprise as he saw that Abe had kicked a hole clear through the wall, and was ushering people through the hole and out of the area, Idia and Dr. Alcott leading those still conscious to safety. “NO!” shouted Xavier, and shot out his needles...but he was just too late as Abe blocked him, giving him a determined glare as they scratched helplessly against his armored plating. Then, giving Xavier an almost pitying expression, the robot leapt through the hole himself. Xavier moved to try and give pursuit, but Grim thrust out his arms, and formed a wide ring of fire that blocked the scientist’s path. “You think this will stop me?!” Xavier bellowed. “You can’t defeat me! My invention gives me power beyond yours!” “Good to know. I’d hate to have to refund anything.” Xavier stopped short and glanced about, trying to find the source of Caelyum’s voice...before, suddenly, he felt a strange sensation brushing up against his legs. He looked down...and screamed in a mixture of panic and rage as a horde of marble white Locker Crabs began to swarm over him, their pincers latching onto parts of his clothing and the edges of his inkstained metal carapace, trying to drag him to the floor. “GET OFF ME, YOU CRETINOUS CRUSTACEANS!” yelled Xavier, trying to kick and swat away the crabs, unaware of the shadow that stepped through a gap that formed in the flames, and approached from behind. The crabs snipped their claws at the leather straps holding the ERPC in place. Xavier slapped them away...then jerked as, suddenly, the weight of his invention was pulled away. “WHAT?!” he spat, and turned around fast, pupils pinpricks as he saw you jump backwards, holding the device in your hands. “NO! NO, YOU-GACK!” He hit the floors as the crabs tripped him up. You scampered back through the gap in the flames, which Grim soon closed up. The little monster was jumping up and down, pumping his forepaws/fists and cheering. “NYA! Get ‘im, Cael! Pin ‘im down!” the cat called. “We’ve won now!” A low laugh from under the swarm of Locker Crabs knocked the smile from Grim’s face. “Won? Hardly. I’m still getting warmed up!” ZAM! Xavier sent out another shockwave with a loud shout. You toppled onto your back, the ERPC falling from your hands and thunking onto the floor. The crabs scattered, and the flames were extinguished as Grim was sent rolling across the hall. You quickly sat back up...and shuddered. Xavier loomed over you, the acid-colored aura around him showing his fury as trails of spilling ink traced his steps. You snatched up the ERPC and scrambled to your feet, making a dash for the whole in the wall. “NOT SO FAST!” roared Madoc, and lifted his human hand. He screamed some foreign incantation, and the shattered section was suddenly patched up, the debris flying back into place, stitching together like a jigsaw puzzle’s corners. You swerved and made a dash for a window; you could break it, after all, even if it was locked. Xavier snarled out another incantation, however...and teleported directly in front of you. You skidded to a halt, but not fast enough as he grabbed hold of your arm with one hand, and lifted his syringe claws, a wild grin on his cyborganic face. “HA HA HA!” he cackled. “What a foolish attempt that was! You truly thought you could defeat me?! I will drain you till your very soul is rendered inert! Nothing can resist my power! With the ERPC, I can remain like this for eternity! And when the world grovels at my feet, I will build more machines! BRILLIANT machines! My mechanical creations will-!” FWOOMPH! A burst of flame slammed into Xavier, bowling him over and singing his labcoat. You fell back down and scrambled away as you held tightly to the power pack. Xavier snarled as he stood back up, his mechanical pieces clicking and sparking...as the two of you saw who had re-entered the room. It was Idia Shroud; Ortho had evidently picked the lock on one of the windows, and the pair had climbed through. Idia was visibly trembling, but tried his hardest to look brave, twists of orange curling through his ethereal blue hairdo. “Leave. Them. Alone,” Idia intoned. Madoc sneered. “First you steal my prize, now you RUIN MY MONOLOGUE?!” he yelled. “Alright! Just for that, I WILL OBLITERATE YOU!” Xavier charged at Idia, but the head of Ignihyde narrowed his eyes, gritting his sharp, jagged teeth. His hand shook as he held it, as if showing doubt… ...Then, his stance and expression hardened, and the shaking stopped. Just as Xavier Madoc leapt through the air, swiping his syringe claws through the air...he snapped his fingers. KRAK-KOOM! An explosive blast of fire and noise, like a grenade had gone off, erupted directly before Madoc. The explosion sent the mad scientist flying backwards, his labcoat tattered and scorched, black marks on his skull plates. Xavier cried out as he slammed headfirst into a wall...then crumpled to the floor, and fell still. He was out like a light. The mad doctor was done. You sighed with relief and stood up as Ortho cheered. “WOO-HOO! Way to go, Big Brother!” he exclaimed, and gave Idia a smack on the back. The hunched head of Ignihyde flinched and smiled shyly at his artificial sibling. “It was nothing,” he whispered faintly, visibly blushing. “Are you okay, Prefect?” Ortho asked. “I’m fine,” you nodded as you approached them, and glanced around. “Where are the others?” Right on cue, a low growl was heard. The three of you looked to see Grim was just sitting up, massaging his skull after evidently banging his head during his tumble. “Me-owwwww…! That creep hits way too hard!” he moaned out. “Did anybody get the number on that-MREOWR?!” He was cut off as Idia scooped the imp up and began to snuggle him, crooning and planting chaste, loving kisses on his head. “Awwww, the poor wittle kitty!” he cooed sympathetically. “Did you get an ouchie? Did the mean cyborg hurt you, huh?” “HISSSSS! I’M FINE!” Grim spat, kicking and squirming. “L-Lemme go! For the last time, I DON’T LIKE SNUGGLES, STOP!” Idia just let out a happy hum, squeezing Grim, repeatedly crooning, “Awww, poor thing, you poor little dear…!” over and over again. Ortho giggled sweetly, while you just rolled your eyes and smiled. A skittering sound heralded the reappearance of Caelyum, who reformed out of a pillar of white sand crabs. He stumbled on his feet as he returned to his normal state, and you placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You okay?” you whispered. “No,” mumbled Cael, and smiled wearily. “When I use the power that way, a fraction of my will - my mind - is in every single crab. I feel like I just got thrown through the loop-the-loop of a roller coaster seventeen times.” You gently patted his shoulder and smiled back, gratefully. “Walk it off, matey,” you said softly with a wink. Cael chuckled. “Aye,” he nodded, as your group moved to look down at the defeated Xavier Madoc. “I will.” For several seconds, the ink-leaking cyborg lay on the ground, unmoving. But that was alright: none of you were expecting him to move. By now, you knew the drill of how things worked after Overblot...and sure enough, after a few seconds, wisps of silvery-white mist began to drift up from the defeated scientist, as his whole body began to glow a blinding white. All of you shielded your eyes from the light, watching as the mist began to spiral, and soon enough, images formed in the center of the floating cloud. Pictures from the past… “Dad! Dad, look at this!” A tall, thin man in white, with a pointed goatee, looked down from the workbench he was stationed at. He smiled as a small boy - with mismatched eyes of blue and green - came waddling into the room, holding a piece of paper. “What is it, Xavier?” “I made a blueprint, dad! I wanna make a robot! Like one of yours!” squeaked the young Xavier, and held out the paper to his father. “Do you think it’s any good, Dad? Do ya? Huh?” The older man lifted the paper and looked; he chuckled at the untidy crayon scrawl drawn on the page, the acronym “A.B.E.” accompanying a childish drawing of a metal man in a porter’s outfit. “Not a bad idea, Xavier,” he complimented his son, and handed the “blueprint” back to its creator before ruffling his son’s hair. “You’ll make a fine inventor, at this rate.” Xavier giggled, playfully swatting at his father’s hand, then gave him a wide but shy smile. “You promise?” he peeped. “Could I...could I be as good as you, Dad?” “No,” the man answered, and leaned down, kissing his son’s forehead. “You’ll be even better.” The child’s happy hum was interrupted by the shifting of time, as a new image spun into view: Xavier was a little older now, and working in a laboratory. He whistled as he fitted a screw into place on a device he was building...only to freeze as he heard voices coming from outside the shop. Curious, he trotted over to the door, and peeked outside. He could see the shadows of two men, arguing not so far away, and heard what they were saying. One of them he recognized as his father’s voice… “Oscar, you can’t be serious!” “I’m sorry, Xander,” the other voice said. “All I know is that Charles got to me first. What would that tell you?” “That Charles is a faster runner,” droned Xander. Xavier giggled softly, but clapped a hand over his mouth to avoid being heard. “Very funny,” Oscar’s voice drawled. “I’m serious, Oscar. You KNOW me, we’ve worked together for years! Are you going to take his word over mine?” “Right now, I haven’t got a choice. His patent has been in development at my company for a while; all that’s left are i’s to dot and t’s to cross. Even if what you say is true, Xander, he finished his work more quickly; I’m not seeing a lot of incentive here.” A pause. “...So that’s it then?” came the terse voice of Xavier’s father. “What about my family, Oscar? What about my son?” “Relax, Xander. You’ll come up with more inventions, you always do, and I’ll be just as willing to buy!” “Forget it. I’ll find another person to sell to.” Another pause. “...Okay. Okay. If that’s how you feel about it,” came Oscar’s weak reply. “Goodbye, Xander.” “Goodbye, Oscar. Tell Charlie he knows where to stuff it.” Oscar’s shadow disappeared, and a few moments later, the sound of a door was heard opening and closing. Xander was heard sighing, and Xavier saw his father’s silhouette slump into a nearby chair. Curious, the boy trundled out of the room to his father’s side; the older inventor was sitting with his head in his hands, massaging his brow. “Dad?” peeped Xavier. “What was all that?” Xander blinked at his son. “Oh. You...heard that, huh?” Xavier nodded slowly. Xander blinked...then sighed and picked his child up, placing him in his lap. “Listen to this, Xavier, because it’s very important,” said the doctor to his son. “Not all inventors are good. You must guard your inventions well, and you must always do your best to make sure no one can top you. People will try to steal what you make, people will look for weaknesses in it. Never let them find any way to stop you.” He placed a hand under his son’s chin and gave a sad smile. “You’ll be brilliant someday...but with brilliance comes danger. You can’t trust anyone, understand?” “I can trust you.” “Of course,” chuckled Xander. “And I can trust my machines,” added Xavier. “Well, yes, but a machine isn’t a person,” Xander said. “Machines only exist to follow their programming. Machines will always do what they’re supposed to. Machines will only let you down if people making them make mistakes. People aren’t like that: people are flawed, and people are foolish. They will pass you over and cheat you if they find a way or reason. Never let that happen. Okay?” “Okay, Dad. I’ll do my best.” The scene shifted again. Xavier was now much older, nearly the same age as he was now. Abe now stood at his side as he worked on a project in his laboratory, building a new machine. “This is going to be the greatest thing ever!” he cheered, grinning to his mechanical companion, who nodded in happy agreement. “Just think of how much fun the science fair will be with this completed! Ha Ha! Man, Abe, we have this in the bag!” “Hi, Xavier!” The pair looked towards a new face that had entered the lab: a fellow youngster in red. “Oh, hey, Gus! What’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the science fair?” “I haven’t figured out what to do yet,” sighed the boy sadly, then smiled weakly. “So, uh...I thought, well...maybe you could help me come up with an idea. I mean...you’re like a billion times better at this stuff, heh…” “Sure, I can help!” smiled Xavier, helpfully, and clapped his hands together, dusting them off, waving for Abe to go fetch a few books. As the robot marched off, the teen in red noticed the item on the workbench. “Hey, what’s that?” “Huh? Oh! It’s my project for the science fair. Looks pretty cool, right?” “Yeah! What’s it do?” Xavier explained quickly. The lad looked envious of his science-savvy friend. “Wow...I’ll never figure out how you can do all that stuff...you’ve gotta be the best inventor ever!” “Awww,” blushed Xavier. “It’s just a knack.” “Can you show me how you make it?” the teen asked, hesitantly. “Sure, if you want,” Xavier said, blithely shrugging and smiling. “Then I’ll help you figure out what you’ll do yourself. Sound fair?” The boy smirked; Xavier didn’t notice the cunning in his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds fair,” the classmate answered. The scenario changed once more. Xavier now glared with absolute hatred at the boy in red...who was smiling, chest puffed out with pride, as he showed off his machine to the judges, who cheered and applauded. It was a machine identical to the one Xavier had made...and the boy had made it first. Xavier had been forced to change his plans, and the experiment he’d come up with at the last minute had been sub-par. The cheat got first place. Xavier got nothing. Xavier snarled, fists clenching as the boy in red smirked in a sidelong way at him, and mouthed the word, “Sucker,” before continuing to bask in adulation. Xavier Madoc scowled as he packed up his items. He was shaking a little. “You can’t trust anyone,” he whispered to himself. “Well, you’ll see...you’ll ALL see...I’ll come up with something no one else can top. I will PROVE to you how good my science is. Just wait and see…” His mismatched eyes burned as he turned his back on the laughing classmates and applauding teachers...and stalked back to his lab. Alone. With his machines. “...I don’t need anybody. Just my machines.”

The mist cleared and evaporated, and the white light faded...revealing Xavier Madoc had changed back to normal on the floor. He was still unconscious, but the glow was gone from his blue eye, and the machinery parts had vanished. Silence reigned for a few seconds. This was not unheard of. By now, you had accepted there was always a “digestion period” where everyone was taking in what they’d just learned. This time, however...the silence stayed unbroken. No one spoke a word, looking like they were trying to properly form thoughts, even as Xavier began to stir again. As he did, he reached out with a hand, fumblingly, mumbling incoherently… ...And froze as someone knelt down and took that hand. Xavier looked up...and seemed stunned when he stared into the wide yellow eyes of Idia Shroud. For a moment, the two looked at each other...then Xavier pulled away with a sneer. “Cheat,” he hissed. “I never cheated,” whispered Idia, sounding surprisingly confident for once...confident, but careful. “It’s not that no one recognized you, Xavier; no one was trying to neglect you. It’s just...there could only be one winner. And I happened to be it.” “It wasn’t an easy decision, either,” added Ortho. “Oh, no?” Xavier grimaced, looking skeptical. “No,” Idia answered. “Dr. Alcott spoke to me before I returned: you would have been second place. Your invention really impressed him and the other judges, they just...felt mine was more easy to use widespread. Yours needed a few tweaks for them to give it the topmost prize.” “They said they couldn’t have asked for a better start to the expo than you,” added Ortho, in a quiet, helpful voice. The bitterness in Xavier’s face had faded slightly, leaving his expression blank and cold. He turned away quietly, and hugged himself, curling up against the wall. “You can’t shut yourself out because of one bad incident,” whispered Caelyum. “Trust me: I know what it’s like when you seal off your heart. It doesn’t get pretty.” “No one is invincible,” added Grim. “Well...except for me, but...that’s because I’m awesome.” You rolled your eyes at the hubris of “The Great Grim,” and knelt down beside Idia, looking into the heterochromatic eyes of the mad scientist. “Just because you’re brilliant doesn’t mean everything is going to be perfect. Similarly,” you said, “Just because one person did something terrible, it doesn’t mean you can shun all people. Everyone and everything has flaws. The important thing is to learn from them.” Xavier furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor for several seconds...then looked back up at both of you. “...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I...I shouldn’t have lost control. That was...that was childish of me. And...I’m sorry for what I did.” He looked to Idia and smiled shyly. “Your invention was...not too bad.” “Thank you,” Idia said, with a slight blush, and helped the scientist to his feet. Just then, the sound of metallic footsteps echoed out. The group of you turned...and Xavier’s heart seemed to sink as he saw Abe re-enter the hall, yellow eyes fixed on his creator. “Abe, I’m so, SO sorry,” Xavier said, seriously. “I shouldn’t have-EEP!” He was cut off as the metal man crushed him in a solid bear hug, nuzzling his steel cheek against his creator’s hair. Ortho and Grim both giggled, while yourself and Caelyum smirked. Idia, for his part, didn’t seem to know what to make of the scene. “I think he already forgives you,” you said teasingly. Abe nodded to show this was the case. It was obvious he was just happy his maker was back to normal. Xavier smiled bashfully and gestured for the metal man to put him down, then looked to Idia. “So, uh...y-you’re the head of the dorm,” he said, and rubbed his arm. “Do you, uh...like...have any ideas on how to make the ERPC better? More...accessible?” “I can think of something. You know...maybe,” Idia said with a timid smile. “I mean...I’m r-really not the best choice, I...I got the whole idea for MY thing from an anime-” “Anime?” Xavier asked, and perked up visibly. “What anime?” “Oh! Uh...Magica Marocca. It’s...um...a Magic Girl series? You, ah, probably don’t know what that is-” “YOU WATCH MAGICA MAROCCA?!” Idia blinked, stunned, at the sudden look of exuberant excitement on Xavier’s face. “You...you’ve seen it?” the otaku nearly squeaked out. “I love that series!” exclaimed Xavier. “I mean...okay, it’s not, like, the GREATEST thing, in terms of story? Kinda rushed...but I really love the art style, a-and the way it plays with the themes and ideas of a typical Magic Girl series! It’s like Watchmen, but for...that!” Idia looked like he’d just found his soulmate. “I feel the same way! A-And have you seen Glitter Cure?” “Rascal is one of THE best villains ever.” “I AGREE!” squealed Idia, clapping giddily, that wide, almost manic smile you saw so rarely stretching across his face, matching Xavier’s instantly. “Oh, my gosh, no one EVER knows about that one! This is great!” “It is!” nodded Xavier eagerly...then took his turn to blush. “Um...d’ya think we can...oh...I-I dunno...maybe watch some together?” “I mean...only if you want to,” peeped Idia, ducking his head anxiously. “I’m...n-not used to people who...WANT to watch it with me, heh...normally I-I can only talk about it online…” “I’d like to watch it with you,” Xavier promised. “And...and we can talk about our inventions in the meantime. Does...does that sound fair?” Idia nodded slowly, and began to smile wider once more. “Yeah...yeah, it sounds like a plan,” he said, then looked to Ortho. “Is...is it okay with you, Little Brother?” Ortho gaped. “...You’re asking me if YOU can have a VISITOR in the apartment?” “Yes.” “Like...you WANT to HANG OUT WITH SOMEONE?” “Yuh-huh.” “...Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my Big Brother?” You snickered. So did Xavier, as Idia smiled awkwardly. “You wanna come with, Abe?” the mad scientist asked his robotic companion, who saluted in response. “Great!” Idia laughed. “Let’s go then!” And with unusual, uncharacteristic joy, the otaku and the eccentric sauntered off together, their androids following them as the exit door reformed and they left the convention hall. You smiled. “Well,” you sighed happily. “All’s well that end’s well. Looks like Idia’s found a new friend at last.” “I’m happy for them,” smiled Caelyum. “Finding a person who you can connect with is important.” “Uh-huh,” nodded Grim. “Now, there’s just one problem.” “What’s that?” both you and Cael asked. Grim wordlessly pointed to the mess of chairs, scorch marks, busted machines, and dented walls that the hall had become. You went pale. “...Ohhhhh...right...I forgot...we’re the janitors.” “Uh-huh,” Grim said again, drably. “Well, good luck with that!” Caelyum chirped, and began to saunter off towards the door. “Hey! HEY! Where are you going?!” snapped Grim. “Back to the Mystery Shop,” Cael called over his shoulders. “I have a job of my own to do, me hearties! Take care!” “But-!” Your call was unanswered. Cael disappeared, leaving you and Grim standing alone in the mess. You both looked around, then at each other. “...Grim?” “Yeah, Minion?” “It’s moments like these where I wonder if helping people is worth it.” “I never wonder, Minion,” sighed Grim. “Moments like these, I know it isn’t.”

Your feet shuffled as you went to find the broom and dust pan. From saving the day to cleaning up the wreckage, a Prefect’s work was never done.

The End

[jungshookz]

OMG UNI YOONGI TALKING TO LISA TO MAKE OC JEALOUS BUT Y/N GETS A LIDDOL UPSET BC LISA'S SO PRETTY AND SO PLAN BACKFIRES AND YOONGI IS LIKE OHNO

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; uni!yoongiverse!!!!! if u want to read something that’ll make your heart happy then you just struck gold

➺ wordcount: 6.4k

➺ summary; yoongi’s plan to make you jealous doesn’t go exactly as he’d expected.

➺ what to expect; “i’m y/n y/l/n, my student ID is 10120200, and today i will be discussing the neurobiology behind the complicated mask of romantic attraction.”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read some other drabbles from the uni!yoongiverse!

➺ note; okay so thiS was originally how y/n and yoongi got together in the first place but before i had a chance to finish it i ended up writing that christmas mistletoe drabble instead!!! but i still wanted to share this version with u guys :-) also i am the worst at finding the source for gifs but i found it off here!! and the info used in this drabble is from this website!! ok i’m shutting up now happy reading!!!

                                    »»————-　♡　————-««

yoongi is not used to this

and by this he means you

and by you he means he doesn’t understand why you don’t seem to be as into him as much as he’s into you and it’s weird because (not to toot his own horn or anything) he thinks he’s preTTy good at wrapping people around his dainty pinky finger and it just doesn’t seem to be working with you!!

did that sentence even make any sense??

does anything even make any sense anymore????

“-i guess, to answer your question, i don’t really know what to do which is weird because i’m usually pretty confident with everything that i do. you know?” yoongi sighs and shakes his head

the cashier blinks owlishly at him

all she asked him was ‘how are you doing today?’

“so… are you going to order anything or…?

yoongi clears his throat before turning to glance at the very long line of impatient university students wanting their daily fix of caffeine

see????

look what you’ve doNE TO HIM

you’ve broken him and he doesn’t know how to fix himself!!

“…one medium iced vanilla cold brew, please.”

yoongi stares blankly into space as he slurps up the remainder of his coffee

he shakes the cup around a little and the ice rattles inside

“good morning!”

yoongi looks up and nods in acknowledgement as lisa plops down next to him

anyone who’s said that you can’t be friends with your ex obviously didn’t have a meaningful relationship with them

because yoongi and lisa are doing just fine!

they take a history course together

he didn’t actually knoW they were in the same class until he was (very) late to class one day and the only seat left was next to her and he thought that if he didn’t sit next to her the next class that that would open up a whole can of worms that he definitely did noT want to open up (“how come you’re not sitting with me anymore? is it because we used to have sex and now you can’t look me in the eye without thinking about how you broke up with me and your reason was ‘i don’t know, i just feel like we’re… not a great couple’?”)

but the point is  

they get along great!

they don’t hang out outside of class but they get along inside of class which is what matters

“shit, did you happen to get the notes from the last slide? i missed some of the last bullet points-“ lisa grabs yoongi’s notebook and huffs when she sees that all he has on this page are some half-assed notes and a lot of doodles “you are of no use to me.”

“it’s all part of my charm, baby.” yoongi sighs and leans back against the squeaky seat

“i have no idea what i saw in you in the first place.” lisa mumbles to herself as returns her attention to the screen

“oh, babe… you’re making me blush!” yoongi coos before giving her a little punch on the shoulder

“you’re making me want to jump off a cliff- and don’t touCH me-“

and all of a sudden

it hits him

he knows what to do to get you to talk to him!!

he’s spent the last forty minutes of class thinking about your cuTe face and how he’s going to get closer to you but something about what lisa said just inspired him

actually it had nothing to do with what lisa said

it had more to do with her presence and her subtle reminder that they used to date

he needs a catalyst of some kind

he needs to.,.,., to catalyse yoU!

(he learned that word from chemistry but he’s not sure if he’s using it correctly he’ll have to fact-check that with u)

yoongi nudges lisa’s side and she scowls before nudging him back harder

“oW- cut it out-“ yoongi grumbles and swats at her hand

“you started it-“

“will you just shut up-“

“yoU shut up-“

“i need your help with something.” yoongi hisses as he begins to scribble the plan down on his notebook so that lisa can read it instead of him having to whisper it to her in its entirety

he’s not very useful to her but she’s about to be very useful to him

he now knows exactly what to do

>:-)

“if you keep bouncing your leg like that i won’t hesitate to slice it off with this flimsy wooden pathetic excuse of a knife.” jimin leans over to poke the tip of the dull knife into your forearm and you huff before whacking his hand away

“i can’t help it, you knoW i get jumpy when i’m nervous.”

god

you feel itchy

is it hot in here??

or is it just you??

hopefully your armpits aren’t sweaty

nothing kills the mood more than swampy pits

am i right ladies

“y/n, you know he likes you back-“

“no, actually, i don’t know that.” you shake your head before leaning over to peek at the entrance of the cafeteria doors again “he’s never explicitly stated that he likes me back so i can’t just go around-“

“he doesn’t need to tell you! he- he literally spooned you in the middle of class aND he made me give up being your partner for the presentation so that he could be your partner instead.” jimin raises a brow when you look back at him

“…and your point is?”

he groans quietly and rolls his eyes

how can someone so smart be so stupid at the same time

here’s what’s happening

you think you’re finally going to do something about your feelings for yoongi (gross)

and the thing is, you actually weren’t planning on doing anything today because you like to plan things out in advance but somehoW jimin convinced you that this would be a good idea

anyways

you’re going to ask yoongi if he’d like to join you (and jimin) for lunch!

it’s not a big step but at least it’s somEthing

and it’s not like asking him to sit with you at lunch is you professing your undying love for him

it’s just lunch!

maybe if you’re lucky, when he sits down next to you, you can scooch in closer so that the side of your leg is touching the side of his leg

and if you’re extra lucky, maybe he won’t move away from you when you do that

:’)

you perk up when you see yoongi step into the cafeteria and your heart skips a beat when the two of you make eye contact for a brief second before he’s looking away and joining the line

alrighty

that’s your cue!

“alright-“ you slide out of the booth and wipe your clammy hands on the back of your jeans “wish me luck!”

jimin shoots you a thumbs up before reaching over to steal one of the watermelon cubes out of your fruit cup

okay

this’ll be fine

you’ll be greAt

all you have to do is ask yoongi if he wants to come and sit with you

…but you can’t just ask him without saying hi

so say hi first

you know what

you should’ve practiced this in your head before getting up and leaving the safety of the table

but now it’s too late to turn back because you’re already halfway to yoongi and you can’t just tuRn back because you know he saw you and he’s going to think it’s weird if you stopped and whipped around halfway through your somewhat confident stride towards him

damnit

daMNIT

okAY what are you going to say??

hi yoongi… how are you?

nO no that’s oddly polite

hi yoongi… what are you going to order?

nope not that either

hi yoongi… chemistry, am i right? how are your slides for the presentation coming along? i noticed some of your facts were a bit broad so i made some comments on the side to help-

??? hoW do you steer the conversation from there?? NERD

hi yoongi… what’s up with the meatloaf here?? what’s in this mystery meat?? i guess that’s why they call it a mystery! hAh

…ok that one was just weird

and just as you’re a couple feet away from yoongi, that’s when you notice that he’s not alone

nope

because he’s engaging in what looks like vEry friendly conversation with another girl

“yoongi, cut it out, you dweeb!” she giggles before giving his arm a gentle slap (her hand lingers on his arm for a good three!!! seconds) and yoongi raises his hands in defence

???????

who is this stranger??

who is this stranger and why is she touching yoongi like she’s noT a stranger???

and why isn’t yoongi acting like she’s a stranger???

“what?? i’m just saying!!”

he turns his head slightly and the two of you make eye contact yet agaIn

your eyes widen in panic

oh god

well now you definitely can’t ask him to sit with you at lunch

not when he’s talking to a literal godDESS

god!!! look at her!!!!

her hair is so long and silky and she has that whole ‘is she sexy or is she cute’ vibe going on and woW that eyeliner is impeccable

you look like you have raccoon eyes compared to her eye makeup

…you look like a raccoon compared to her

he’s obviously going to sit with her!!!!!!!

mission abort

MISSION ABORT

you immediately swerve and head towards the vending machine

okay

that didn’t go toO badly right

was your swerve smooth?

hopefully it seemed like it was a natural movement to suddenly make a JAGGED turn to the right

you know what

this is a sign

you and yoongi are not supposed to be a thing and that was a sign directly from God himself

you feel your face heating up a little when another realisation hits you

you thought yoongi liked you back and it seems that he doesn’t… and even if he did like you back, you waited too long to do something about it and he’s obviously moved on  

suRe, you’ve been going around saying that you’re pretty sure yoongi doesn’t like you back and it’s not a big deal because it’s expected, why would he like me? but you only kept saying that because you wanted it to be wrong

you wanted yoongi to prove you wrong

and he moved on because you were taking too frickin long to decide what you wanted to do with him

…and you didn’t even bring any change with you so you can’t even get a bag of chips to make you feel beTTER

“i… i’m sorry, but what the hell was that?” jimin snorts as soon as you take a seat at the table and you clear your throat before shrugging

“an effort was made… and… the result came out inconclusive! so… it’s whatever.”

jimin leans over to the side a little to peek past you at yoongi who just wrapped an arm around whatever-her-name-is’ shoulders

and then he notices yoongi glancing back a little in your direction

hm

…fascinating.

“y/n…” jimin sighs as he sets his fork down, “yoongi likes you. you know he does. everyone knows he does! you’d have to be blind to noT see how into each other you two are.”

“you’re just saying that because you’re my friend.” you sulk as you slump against your arm

“i’m saying that because it’s true, you idiot.” jimin frowns and reaches over to give the top of your head a pat, “use that big brain of yours and think about it!”

okay fine

you’ll use your stupid big brain to think about stupid yoongi and your stupid crush on him

the other week in class you were pretty bummed out because you had forgotten to bring your snack with you and you were looking forward to it all day (you slathered some strawberry jam on some crackers and made little sandwiches) and after you briefly mentioned it to yoongi (after he asked u ‘what’s a saD girl like u doing in a sad place like this’) he went quiet for a second or two before picking up his backpack and leavinG the lab

and you were very confused because class was literally starting and he just walked out like it was no big deal

you were about to get up and chase after him to bring him back but once the professor started the lecture you were pretty much bolted down to your stool

when he came back ten minutes later (thankfully the professor was playing a video for the class so yoongi was able to sneak in without being noticed) you were very surprised when he plopped a crumpled up wad of napkins(??) in front of you

“thank you for the… garbage?” you whisper as you use the back of your pencil to poke at it

“open it up.” yoongi points to the top of it and- oH okay it’s like a little parcel of some kind

it just looked like garbage to you

you reach over to unwrap the parcel and your brows knit together when you-

oOh!!!!! oh!!!!!! crackers!!!! cracker sandwiches with strawberry jam oozing out the sides!!!!!!

“have i ever told you about how much the lunch ladies love me?” yoongi grins and wiggles his eyebrows before pushing the crackers closer to you “bon appétit, m’lady.”

you perk up a little and jimin looks over at you in interest

wait a second

if yoongi didn’t like you back then he probably wouldn’t have gone out of his way just to get you a couple crackers and jam

what else has he done?

in class he always leans over to doodle on your notebook and even when you tell him to cut it out he never does

but is that flirting?

how about when he compliments your scrunchies or your socks or little things like that?

is that flirting or is that just him being nice???

okay

what about this one

how about when he walks you to class and insists you give him a kiss on the cheek as payment?

you immediately shoot straight up from the table and jimin jumps in surprise

jesus chriSt

he didn’t sign up to sit with a jack-in-the-box today

“yoongi likes me!” you gasp and jimin resists the urge to roll his eyes

“look who finally came to their senses-“

yoongi likes you!!

a lot

like a LOT

and you like yoongi a lot too!!!!

so you have no idea why you’re acting the way that you are

part of it is because he’s being kind of flirty with someone else but the other part of it is…

it’s just that you have no idea why every time he brings up the question of ‘so… what are we?’ you immediately panic and sputter out some lame excuse about how you have some work to catch up on but i’ll catch you later!!

oh god

the smile drops from your face

do you have commitment issues??? is that it??

“is it working? do you think it’s working?” yoongi forces a smile on his face to make it seem like he’s still very interested in what lisa is saying and she peeks over his shoulder before shaking her head

“i think your plan was a failure from the start anD i think we should’ve gone with my plan if you really wanted to make her jealous-“

“i’m not gonna make out with you in front of y/n-“

“well, she’s not even paying attention to us anymore. her back’s facing us.”

yoongi whips around so fast that he nearly gives himself whiplash and his shoulders droop when he realises that lisa’s right

damnit

he really thought his plan was going to work!! he thought it was foolproof!!!

obviously not because here he is

looking like a grade A foOL

“you sure you’re okay?” jimin nudges your arm as the two of you throw out your scraps and wrappers

after your whole ‘yoongi likes me!!!’ moment, you were pretty happy for like 3 seconds and then you started spiralling into a whole self-pity ‘i might have commitment issues’ thing which eventually led you back to ‘yoongi could never like someone like me… no wonder he’s off eating lunch with someone else…’ and jimin was fully ready to rip his hair out

one step forward and a miLLion steps back

anyways

you were pretty quiet for the remainder of lunch which wasn’t a huge surprise because you dO have the tendency to get a little mopey when things don’t go your way (but in your defense, who wouldn’t get mopey??)

like one time when you were assigned the topic of comparing and contrasting influential leaders during the WWI era for a history essay when you were really hoping to be assigned the topic of the impact of propaganda

you were so bummed out that you basically just leaned on jimin for the entire period of lunch without saying anything

and now it looks like it’s happening again!!!

you know what

no

you can’t go in circles like this for the rest of your life

this time you’re not just being mopey and pitying yourself

this time you think you’re actually going to do something about the issue (juSt like how you should’ve gone to your prof to fight for that propaganda essay)

you feel ridiculous!!

you can’t go on beating yourself up over something that you can kiNd of control!!!

you know that you wanna be with yoongi officially

you know that there’s a mutual attraction between the two of you

and most importantly you want to be able to call him your boyfriend and not just a classmate that you sometimes flirt with and all-the-times fantasise about holding hands with

you’re finally ready to sit him down and tell him you definitely like him and that you definitely want to be with him and you are noT about to let him slip away this easily!!

seeing him with someone else lit a fire under your ass

…and you know exactly how you’re going to handle this.

to say the least

yoongi is.,,.,..,

concerned

very, very concerned

he hasn’t spoken to you in like three days and he’s pretty sure you’re avoiding him

and he knows this because the other day after you came out of class and saw him standing there waiting for you (like he usually does) you immediately diverted your gaze and attempted to hide behind a bunch of people before disappearing down the opposite end of the hallway

and then when he walked into class to go and sit next to you like he always does he was very surprised to see that jimin had reclaimed his spot next to you

…and if those aren’t signs of you avoiding him/being upset with him he doesn’t know what is!!

if anything he thought the whole lisa plan was going to get you all riled up and jealous which was something that he will openly admit to vEry much wanting to see because let’s be real seeing someone get jealous is always a little hot

but instead it seemed to have upset you and possibly hurt your feelings which was the complete opposite of what yoongi wanted and now he doesn’t know what to DO

usually he’s the one that does the avoiding! whenever he gets into little riffs with girls (most of the time they’re upset about him not texting and/or calling back which he admits is his fault and he could’ve handled those situations more maturely but that’s not the point) all he has to do is like smile at them in class and they immediately forgive him because he has a greAt smile

also usually it’s other people who are trying to make him jealous!!! so it’s pretty weird that hE was the one trying to make someone jealous!!!

he doesn’t like the taste of his own medicine

it’s bitter and he can’t get it out of his mouth

he-

yoongi jumps when his phone buzzes in his back pocket

from: nerdzilla [1:58pm] - Yoongi, can you come to lecture hall A in the maple building right now?

huh

okay

it looks like you’re no longer avoiding him which he supposes is a good sign

…but nothing good can ever happen in a lecture hall

“there you are! i was worried you got lost.” you smile lightly as yoongi steps into the lecture hall looking very out of place

“what’s… uh, what’s going on?” yoongi raises a brow as he makes his way down the steps

“take a seat and it’ll all make sense soon.” you gesture for him to sit near the front before turning to make sure everything’s hooked up and ready to go

yoongi lets out a sigh as he plops down in one of the seats

a moment of silence goes by before he decides that he should probably be the first one to speak up and at least trY to smooth things over

but before he even opens his mouth you’ve already dimmed the lights in the auditorium anD attached a mini microphone to your sweater

you clear your throat before stepping forward a little bit

“i’m y/n y/l/n, my student number is 10120200, and today i will be discussing the neurobiology behind the complicated mask of romantic attraction.” you swallow your nerves after introducing the presentation before clicking to the next slide

what in the world

what is happening

yoongi looks around at the empty auditorium before looking back at you

he still doesn’t know if you’re mad or upset or mupset and if this is just how you process your emotions but maybe he’ll just sit back and relax for now

“now, in order to understand brain chemistry, we need to understand the different chemicals that are involved in the process of romantic attraction. there are four hormones that are important when it comes to understanding love - cortisol, dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. we’ve actually discussed these hormones in class, so if i, say, asked you what cortisol is, you would say…” you trail off and turn to face yoongi and he immediately straightens up

uh

he didn’t think he’d be teSted during whatever the hell this is but okay

you reviewed all of these terms with him for the last quiz so you’d be more than disappointed if he’d already forgotten about them

“if you asked me what cortisol was, i would say…” yoongi narrows his eyes slightly before pursing his lips

why is he sweating all of a sudden

he’s nervous

why does he feel like he’s in cLASS

this ain’t right!!! this was a trick!!!!

“cortisol.” yoongi mumbles as his fingers drum anxiously against his kneecap, “court-isol… courting a mate… courting someone can be stressful- ooh, cortisol is the steroid that is released when we’re stressed!” yoongi claps his hands together and grins widely when you nod proudly before turning back to look at the slide

hAH

he’s still got it

“so, in short - cortisol is a stress hormone, dopamine seeks out pleasure, norepinephrine makes you highly excitable, and serotonin is a mood stabiliser. when you’ve got a crush on someone, your serotonin drops as your cortisol levels increase, which then makes your brain pump out dopamine, which produces norepinephrine.” you turn to look at yoongi to make sure he’s still paying attention and he now looks moRe lost than he was before “do you get it?”

“i… can you repeat that? but in a completely different way? and with different words? significantly easier, simpler words?”

“i mean… i thought i’d already explained it in pretty simple terms-“

“in whAT universe was that simple???”

“okay, what about this- basically, when you’re in the process of falling for someone, all of the hormones that make you anxious and energetic are super duper high while the one that keeps you stable is super duper low.”  

“thank you. you should know by now that you have to explain things to me like that.” yoongi snorts before leaning back against the chair and kicking his legs back up and flicking his wrist “alright, you have my permission to carry on.”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to face the screen  

“there are approximately twenty commonly-reported thoughts, feelings, and behaviours that are associated with falling in love, but in the interest of time, i’m just going to be covering three.”

yoongi (bless his heart) is still trying to figure out what the point of all of this is but is struggling a little because he’s also trying to focus on this presentation of your at the same time

meanwhile, you’re pretty close to pissing yourself on stage because you’ve never confessed your feelings for anyone before and you hate that you can’t decipher the meaning behind yoongi’s poker face

is he playing along??? is he just letting you go through with this presentation even though he already knows what you’re hinting at???

or is he actually confused and has nO idea what he’s doing here??? does he think you’re wasting his precious time????

“number one: intrusive thinking.” you interrupt your internal ramble as you switch to the next slide, “when we’re in the process of falling for someone, our levels of serotonin drop significantly.” you pause and whip around to face yoongi, "remind me again what serotonin is?”  

yoongi’s eyes widen slightly

uh-oh

he’s being put on the spot agaIN??

god

is it too late to drop out of this class?????

“uh… can i get a pass on this one?”

you frown

u literally just said what serotonin was like three seconds ago

he’s so bad at listening!!!! no wonder he needs your help all the time!!!

“serotonin is a mood stabilizer, so it makes you feel…“

“calm!!! and in control!!! and- and stabilized!!” yoongi spRings up from his seat with a raised hand before bouncing up and down

“there we go.” you smile lightly when yoongi gives himself a pat on the back

he’s so cute when he’s proud of himself :-(

“anyways - serotonin stops the triggering of obsessive-compulsive behaviour. however, when the level of dopamine is larger than the level of serotonin, that means you don’t have as much control over your obsessive thoughts and behaviours, which is why when you… have a crush on someone, they’re on your mind all the time.” you clear your throat when you feel a little tickle at the back of your throat

it’s almost like your body is rejecting the idea of u telling yoongi u like him and trying to tell you to sTOP STOP STOP but it’s waaaay too late to stop now

“you find yourself checking your phone all the time to see if they texted you back. when you get an assignment back, your first thought isn’t ‘hey, i did a good job!’ like it usually is, and instead it’s ‘hey, i wonder if they did a good job too!’. they’re the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about before you fall asleep. and it’s… weird, having this person take up so much space in your mind, it’s like… thinking about not thinking about them makes you think about them even more?”

“…thinking about not thinking about them makes you… ah, okay, i understand. got it!” yoongi shoots you a uncharacteristically dorky double thumbs up and you can’t help but snort

“number two: a change in priorities.” you click to the next slide

maybe it’s a good thing that yoongi hasn’t caught on yet

you’re actually starting to enjoy giving this presentation even if it’s not for marks and doesn’t count towards any of your grades whatsoever

“the active hormone in this case would be dopamine. which is…?” you turn to look at yoongi and the smile immediately drops from his face

have you not learned that he is incapable of answering questions on the spot like this???

“dopamine… makes you… feel dope. therefore… dopamine… is… it makes you feel… good…”

okay you’re going to be here all afternoon if you keep picking on yoongi like this

“how about you just…sit back and relax?” you offer yoongi a sheepish smile, “i promise i won’t ask you any more questions.”

yoongi’s shoulders visibly droop and he lets out a breath of relief before leaning back against the seat  

thank GOD because he’s really not sure how much more information he can pull out of his ass

“so, dopamine makes you seek out pleasure-“

“which is basically what i said-“

“as i implied earlier, a spike in dopamine is involved with having intrusive thoughts. a change in priorities has a lot to do with this spike, because you’ll try pretty much anything to get to the reward that can bring you pleasure - obviously this reward i’m talking about is the person i’m crushing- i- i mean, the person that you- the person that one has a crush on.” you stammer before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck

ooh boy

we’re falling off the rails a little here

yoongi raises a brow

he’s never seen you get so twitchy before

especially not when you’re giving presentations because you literally live laugh loVE to give presentations

last week you showed him a presentation of all the things you ate over the weekend and it was actually surprisingly informative and entertaining

“um… so… right! a change in priorities. for example, even if you hated something like skateboarding - and i’m talking really, reaLLy hated - you might suddenly be super cool with giving it a go!” you shrug before unconsciously brushing your fingers over your scratched up elbows that resulted from yoongi trying to teach you how to skateboard a couple weeks ago  

yoongi’s brows knit together in deep thought as the gears click-click-click away in his head

why are you giving this presentation in the first place? what’s the whole purpose of it? why this subject in particular? how come no one else is here with-

yoongi perks up in his seat when it hits him

oh

oh

suddenly every single detail about this peculiar situation rushes over him like a tidal wave

…the neurobiology behind the complicated mask of romantic attraction…

…what is cortisol?? cortisol is a stress hormone that is released when ur courting a mate…

…’hey, i wonder if they did a good job!’ instead of ’hey, i did a good job!’…

…really, really hate skateboarding… suddenly willing to give it a go…  

“-and finally, having an intense increase in energy!” yoongi snaps out of his whirlpool of thoughts when you suddenly clap your hands together, “dopamine - which, hopefully you’ll remember increases when you feel desire and arousal for someone - produces norepinephrine, which is the hormone associated with feelings of excessive energy and restlessness!”

you start pacing around on the stage with your hands on your hips

“like, usually you have a pretty good sleep schedule of 9pm to 7am, but suddenly, all because of this person, you suddenly have the ability to stay up for the entire night thinking about him a-and his stupid face and the fact that he has you wrapped around his pinky finger and somEhow you’re still able to survive the next day without crashing and burning!”

a smirk slowly begins to form at yoongi’s lips when he finally processes what exactly is happening

maybe his lisa plan worked after all

you like him

this is you telling him that you like him and you know what he has to give you a little more credit for using your skills to your advantage

look at you and your cute little ‘i love you’ presentation!!!!

adorable!!!!

just as he’s about to get up and interrupt your vEry passionate rant about how important it is to get a solid eight hours of sleep a night, the projector suddenly glitches and the screen goes black

“one night, i only got like three hours of sleep but what i’m tryINg to say is that-“ your neck nearly snaps from how quickly your head whips around when the screen flickers to black

oh shooT

out of all the times for the damn projector to glitch!!!!!

just as you were about to reach your conclusion!!!!!

fRICK

“sorry, give me a second.” you hold a finger up before jogging over to the little desk where your laptop is  

this is why you hate all this bluetooth apple TV nonsense

the projectors always disconnect at the worst times

it’s just not a reliable way to present something!!

it takes a couple seconds for the projector to catch up to your laptop but when you see the concluding slide pop up on the screen you let out a sigh of relief

ok

maybe you should stop talking about your sleep schedule and just jump straight into the conclusion because you honestly don’t even know what you’re talking about anymore

see!!!! look what yoongi’s done to you!!!!!

you’re usually very good at improvising presentations and now you’re just shooting blanks!!!

whatever

just present your danG conclusion and get this over with u dummy

“in conclusion, the neurobiological process behind romantic attraction is quite evident wh- oh!”

the moment you whip around you don’t even get a chance to be surprised at the fact that yoongi is standing right behind you because the next thing you know he’s pulling you in for a kiss

as soon as his lips press against yours, your mind immediately goes blank and all you can hear is pure white noise (which you’re pretty sure is just your laptop fan whirring because it’s about to run out of battery)

yoongi reaches up to take your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger before tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss when your hands suddenly grip at his hoodie

at first he wasn’t just going to throw himself at you like this but honestly you guys have played this game for far too long

and he’s wanted to kiss u for so long

unsurprisingly, you’re the first one who pulls away (yoongi would 110% spend the rest of the day making out with you on stage if it were up to him) and yoongi swipes his tongue over his bottom lip when he sees how flushed your cheeks have gotten and how swollen your lips are

all that from a little bit of kissing?

…goD that’s so frickin cute

“you-“ your voice cracks slightly and he can’t help but grin because it hits him that the only thing that can make you stutter like this is hiM- “i wasn’t- i wasn’t done with- with my conclusion.” you whisper

wha-

huh

okay

out of all the responses in the world he definitely wasn’t expecting that

well, that’s not true

as he’s mentioned before, you are very passionate about your presentations so maybe he should’ve expected this

“oh! uh, yeah, i’m sorry-“ yoongi quickly takes a step back and raises his hands in defence “sorry. what were you saying?”

you turn away so that your back faces yoongi and you mouth a silent ‘oH MY GOD-‘ to yourself

oh my god

oh my GOD!!!!!

oh myg od????

omg

like u literally don’t know what else to say besides oh my god

no thoughts head empty

“in conclusion, the neurobiological process behind romantic attraction is quite evident when i’m talking about the way that i feel… about… well, about you.” you spin back around to face yoongi and feel your heart skip a beat when he smiles widely before bursting into laughter

what the-

why is he laughing??????

that was supposed to be a sweet moment????

that was supposed to be the part in the movie where the audience goes ‘awww’!!!!!!

so what the heLL is he hee-hawing aboUT

“i’m sorry, i just-“ yoongi covers a hand over his mouth and lets out a snort, “i cannot believe how much i like you-“

“oh, well, great! that makes me feel sO good about myself-“ you feel your face grow red as you throw your hands up in the air

“no, no, not like that! i-“ yoongi wipes a tear from his eye as he makes his way towards you, “you… you’re a dork, y/n y/l/n. you know that?”

“…every time you open your mouth to speak i begin to like you less and less-“

“you’re the biggest dork on this planet and i am so, utterly, obsessed with you.”

oh

…to be honest that was like an insult and a compliment wrapped into one so you’re not quite sure how to interpret it buT-

“so you… like me back?” your stomach flutters when yoongi places his hands on your waist to pull you in

“of course i like you back!” he reaches up to flick your forehead and you immediately let out a yelp, “god, i thought you were supposed to the smarter one out of the two of us-!“

he pauses to give u a little kiss on your forehead because he might have flicked u harder than intended

“and can i just say… i love it when you talk nerdy to me.”

“oh, god, get awaY from me-“ you immediately let out a groan before rolling your eyes

he’s so annOYING

“aw, come on! what’s the matter?” yoongi laughs when you shove him off and turn away from him “i’m hot for teacher-“ he growls playfully as he grabs your hips from behind before pulling you back in towards him

“you are the absolute worsT-“ you whine as you feel your back bump against his front

his arms slink around your waist as he props his chin up on your shoulder “i don’t know about you but mY serotonin levels are like, bouncing off the walls right now-“

“that doesn’t even make any sense, yoongi! it’s like you weren’t even paying attention to anything i was saying at aLL-“

“sure i was! i paid enough attention to know about how much you loooOooOOVe mE-“

and for the record

yoongi will be more than happy to attend any of your future presentations if it means he gets to kiss you at the end of each one

:-)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[god1ngs]

-Zootopia Arc Pt. 7-

(One part left)

Techno found Fundy in an alley back to his old way of stealing. Hearing the new lead from the weasel, Fundy agreed to finish the job. Running down a set of stairs leading to the subway, running across the tracks to a lone cart. Opening the cart’s door after seeing a raccoon with mushrooms across both their arms leave. The duo observed an array of night howlers in separate rows of planters. ‘So Tommy wasn’t lying’ Techno started.

‘Looks like ol’ Drama’s corner of the night howler market’ Running to crouch under one of the planters when Drama walked back in, placing a protective mask back on. The raccoon-mushroom hybrid picking up a container holding neon blue liquid proceeding to pour it into a contraption of plastic tubes overhead. Being pushed into a solid paintball. Techno & Fundy moved closer, now behind Drama as it viewed a cork board showcasing all the afflicted animals overlaying a map of Zootopia. A phone rings in the distance.

‘Drama here, what’s the mark?’

‘Cheetah, in savannah square, where? got it.’ Neither Techno or Fundy were able to hear the other side of the conversation. Drama loaded a paintball gun while speaking to the recipient. Taking apart the gun to fit into a briefcase, ‘seriously? yea i can get over there fast, i can get ‘em. Listen, i hit a tiny little otter from the window of a moving car.’

‘i’ll buzz you when it’s done. or you’ll see it on the news. y’know, whichever one comes first.’ A knock on the door, ‘hey Drama, open up!’ Walking towards the door, ‘‘alright Walter and Jessie are back so i’m leaving now’ Drama told the person on the other side before hanging up and placing their phone back into its pocket. Techno taking this as the perfect time to sneak out, going to grab the briefcase holding the gun. Fundy loosely trying to grasp him, ‘hey, where are you going? get back here.’

‘what are you doing? he’ll see you. what are you looking at? whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it Carrot. Carrots,’ the fox continuing to scream at a whisper, as to gain Techno’s attention but not Drama’s. Drama opens the door, remarking how their coffee should have extra foam before being locked out by Techno. ‘OPEN UP’

Fundy taking this time to be the vocal minority, ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU JUST TRAPPED US IN HERE’

In a deadpan, ‘we need to get this evidence to the ZPD,’ quickly bringing him up to speed the impromptu plan. ‘okay,’ grabbing the briefcase, ‘here it is, got it.’ Running to the drivers area, Fundy warns Techno of a train barreling towards them while having to fight off a rhino. Techno spotting a lever to switch tracks, kicks the rhino to where they’d fall off, head flicking the switch. That and giving them a concussion at the same time. Fundy taking the turn too fast, grabs both himself and Techno out of the train before it blew up.

‘maybe some of the evidence survived’

‘we lost it all’

‘yea, all except for this’ Fundy holding up a silver briefcase.

‘ooh Fundy, yes!’ punching his shoulder. ‘ow.’

-Origins Fox

!!