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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years ago

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𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 Chapter 15: Made in Life

Hero Kaeya x Villain male reader

Summary: Behind Life's walls greets the unknown, the fickleness of morality, and the narcissistic history of two monarchs.

Word Count: 7,394

Warnings: swearing, insincere insults, mentions of murder

Mayb’s notes: nada

There were many Kingdoms that strayed from the Seven, but you knew many of their names. The Kingdom of Life, however... you'd never heard of it before. Regardless, the journey was steady. You knew where to go and what path to take, both those littered by tracks and those covered by vegetation, a sign of scarce travel; courtesy of her.

Come find us.

Her voice haunted you. Though Lady Death had the most patience of anyone in the world–as she witnessed the birth of young and reaped them many years later as their body grew old–her voice persisted in the back of your mind. It came to you each morning and continued to be a reminder to you throughout the day.

It seemed like she was impatient, a trait of hers you wouldn't have imagined. This plague had wrought the Earth and stolen many souls, perhaps she was tired. You certainly were.

Kaeya's injury and your mistake weren't helping with Lady Death's reminders. Progress was slow and daunting and rest was more than necessary.

At least he was healing. You, on the other hand, were only going to get worse. You had read all about Necromancy in that book. It taught you without bias, posing the magic not as taboo, rather like any other practice. The lesson that advised the deepest caution was "Connecting with Death". You still remembered it well. The section stretched far with side effects in case of failure. It covered the subject meticulously. Though, the only thing it lacked was a cure. You had a nasty feeling there wasn't one at all. Whatever the case, it would be the cause of your demise, but it would be slow.

...a slow, painful death. That wasn't what you imagined for yourself.

Sometime along the way, a vicious rain began to pelt down upon you. Camp set up was swift. Your tent was saved for the horses, and Kaeya's for the two of you.

You stick a hand out of the tent's slit. Harsh, cold globs of rain beat at your fingers.

The rain wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and after that, the dirt would turn to viscous mud and the horses would have trouble traversing it. Rest seemed to be the only option.

Come find us. Lady Death... nagged.

To curse her was blasphemy, especially as one of her so called disciples. But she was incessant with her calls, and they were always the same. Passive, neutral, you weren't able to perceive any sort of emotion from her. As the annoyance becomes clear, an empty feeling forms from within your chest, as if she knew you were thinking about her.

You collapse backwards with a sigh, at Kaeya's side. He had long since accepted the rain, unlike you. At your movement, he turns to you, the hand laid atop his abdomen moving to grasp yours. He was recovering nicely.

You turn on your side to face him, accepting his hand graciously and moving your hands, now intertwined, to continue to rest atop his stomach. He smiles at you, wordlessly, and you return the gesture.

"What do you think about the weather then, oh captain?" He teases.

You roll your eyes, yet follow along anyway. "Oh, it'll be stayin' for the whole day. Good thing our crew knows how to withstand the rain."

He laughs, breaking character. "I'm sure it'll be alright."

"It will be." You reply. It was an agreement to his words, but you knew that it was also a form of reassurance to yourself. If Lady Death deemed you sloth, would she reap your soul early? No, she wouldn't, couldn't defy fate like that.

Kaeya taps your nose with his free hand. Light sparks under his fingertip. "What was that?"

He chuckles at your immediate interest, "You remember all those times when you conjured up a night sky? I learnt that same spell long ago... to cope with you leaving me."

"I'm here now."

"I know you are." He smile only widens, though a sadness you remorse paints his lips. "And you've just made me remember it."

He turns away from you, up at the ceiling of the tent, and casts the spell.

A night sky illuminates the tent. Its landscape beheld a myriad of stars, its mirage one of intricacy. Different stars twinkled in varying intervals. A lot of them glowed in cool colors, some in electrifying blues and a few in reds or yellows. When the red ones sparkled, they caught your eye. Sometimes, some stars began to fall, and they dragged through the sky, leaving behind trails. They always came in two, and their trail was always filled in by more stars almost immediately. Barely was there a patch in the sky without a decorating star.

Kaeya watches you admire his illusion. It shines in your eyes, and in that way, he can see the beauty of it, but that wasn't what he was looking at. His gaze was trained on your smile. It told him many things, a nostalgia of the past, a joy and tranquility from the view.

When you turned to look at him, his head snapped up, as if he were caught. It was rather funny. You look towards the illusion again as you catch it change in your peripheral.

Many things in it move, all at once, even stars that weren't meteorites. It swirls, like a tornado, seemingly endlessly. In the midst of the quick, dizzying movement, the colors don't blur together, they remain individual, forming a medley pleasing to the eye. You suppose, sort of, that it reflects him. Complex in all his ways, and beautiful all the same.

You look at him again, he's already staring at you. When you match his gaze, he doesn't back down. He smiles, and so do you.

Come find us.

This time, you ignore her.

The rabbit was struggling. Its back legs had been decapacitated. It was seized, harshly, by the scruff of the neck. Rabbits weren't high on the food chain. It had lost many of its kin already to eagles, big cats, everything and anything was capable of taking down a rabbit. Yet, it fought. It wanted to live. It didn't want a fate like this.

It swung its body back and forth, hoping to throw off the hold on its neck. It kicked its remaining legs, the front legs, aimlessly in the air. Most of all, it remembered one thing: it was alive and it could persevere.

"This is disgusting."

The rabbit gives a shrill screech.

"What is?" You ask, not even flinching as you take the rabbit's last life force, its last efforts, and give them to Kaeya. Your body wants to lurch, as if adverse to the healing and adamant that that life force belonged to you, but you suppress it.

The cryomancer sighs, pressing a hand over his abdomen. It hurt less now, and it was all thanks to you. Still... "Having to bring your hunt all the way back here. How long did it struggle?"

"Couple minutes or so."

Kaeya flinches when he hears the rabbit thud against your makeshift countertop. The subsequent thud, thud, thud of the knife as its body is sliced to pieces only makes it worse. "And you don't it's wrong?"

He preferred clean kills, surprise kills. In that way, one didn't have to think about how their life couldn't been just before their last breaths end.

Your attempt at stifling a snort fails completely and Kaeya huffs at the noise. It was rather hypocritical of him, you think. He showed no–not even hardly any–remorse as he took the lives of those bandits. Were they perhaps not worth his regrets? They were low-lives, they did not have regrets either. This rabbit in comparison, supposedly, was innocent. "I'm healing you."

"I know that." Kaeya replies quick. "But it doesn't make it any better."

You sigh. The final thud does not strike a body, instead it sticks the knife into the fragile log. You stand from your kneel at the tree stub, and make your way towards him. He sits by the campfire, its flame casting a glow of red over his dark skin. It was a contrast against the cool blues and white of his clothing and the dark blue of his hair, and it illuminated his face clearly.

He wore a frown, a deep frown you wanted off his face. His gaze remained on the ground, at the burnt grass around the campfire. He didn't quite seem to notice you so close to him.

You bring a hand to cup his cheek, which clearly shows your presence. He was stubborn in his disagreement, though, refusing to look up at you. Your hand sneaks under his chin, cupping his jaw instead, and pulls his head up to look at you.

He purses his lips, a click on his tongue of annoyance, as his gaze meets yours.

"I'm sorry." Though he only had one eye you could look into, the roll of it was clear. You huff at his persistence. "Really."

He remains silent. You roll your eyes at him this time. You press your thumb, the only one under his chin, against the corner of his lips. It piques his interest. You press it up.

The way he looks up at you, one eyebrow raised and only one corner of his lips upturned, is quite silly. You allow yourself a laugh, and when your other hand cups the other side of his jaw and your other thumb presses onto the other corner of his lips, you can see he's almost breaking.

You bring his lips up. Only seconds later, he grabs both your wrists in his hands, and pushes your hands away from him. He huffs a noticeable laugh out of his nose, and the smile you brought to his face remains, now genuine. "You're a fucking asshole." He snickers endearingly.

"Oh? But you liked this asshole." You take a seat next to him, bringing your hands back to his face and cupping his cheeks instead. He doesn't fight it, though the hold on your wrists remains.

Liked. He's not so sure of that, the past tense, anymore.

One thumb traces the apple of his cheek. He leans into that hand. "I did mean it, anyhow." You begin, "It's simply that this is what I must do. You and I are not herbologists, and neither are we healers."

His hand, holding your wrist, instead moves to rest about your hand. "I understand that. It just won't sit right with me. But," He sighs, "keep doing it."

"Okay." You say.

He nods his head. "Okay."

Kaeya knows, because the air becomes chiller and vegetation all in all begins to appear less and less, that you're about to come across a snowy area. If he were to be honest, he's quite excited. He was a cryomancer, after all. Though Cryomancy was only a fighting skill, he was attuned to the cold too. He thrived in it. He thrived in the snow, most of all. Its presence was a battery for his magic reserve, which almost functioned like a stomach. A full belly meant a happy mind, and it would surely help his healing process.

He was already excited for it, already knew it was coming, but the sight of it gave him a rush even better than the one he'd gotten from the realization.

When he finally catches sight of it, he just about freezes. Nyx is the only thing that keeps him going.

A wide grin creeps onto his face. He pulls on his reins and barely waits for her to slow to a stop before hopping off himself. The swift movement is nothing but worrying to you. He could tear his stitches!

The sun reflected off of the monotone snow and it was blinding, but he didn't care. He ran towards the it, with you and Nyx in tow. Somehow, he was able to outrun a horse.

When he makes it onto his haven, he sinks to his knees. The snow is ten inches tall, draping over his thighs like a blanket. They were barely covered, his pants' fabric too thin, but he relished in the feeling of the cold. He was far from the burning humidity of the rainforest or the heat of the sun's rays on his back. It was different, too, from the bitter cold of each morning as he rose from his tent. It was much better than that. This cold was wonderful, refreshing; he inhaled it in like a breath of fresh air.

Next to him, with a panic, you sink down to your knees too. "Kaeya, are you alright?"

"Yes," His grin grows wider, it stretches from ear to ear. He lays down atop the snow, as if he was giving it a warm hug. "more than alright."

"Gods..." You sigh, letting your head fall backwards tiredly to face the sky. "He's just fucking happy."

He giggles–really giggles!–at that. His head remains practically glued to the floor, even as you stand from the cold ass floor and pat the snow away from your clothes.

"Get up, darling." You sigh.

"Mm-mm." He shakes his head with the protest, like a child. It causes the snow to cake even more of his head, covering his blue locks unevenly.

You click your tongue at him. Guess you'll have to do this manually. You scoop him up in your arms, and you swear he's gotten heavier. You haven't carried him in years, no, but this felt impossible.

His back is to you and your arms are under his armpits, hoisting him up, and clasped atop his chest. His legs are entirely straight and unbent at the knee; his ankles remain in the snow, heels touching the ground, but toes off it, as if the touch, even through his leather boots, stimulates him. He's definitely making himself heavier—question is, how?

That wasn't the point. Anyway, you hauled him up higher, and it forced his heels off the floor. The next time you plop him down, his full foot is on the ground. You push him forward, confident that he won't let himself fall.

Except he does, because apparently a ten inch blanket of snow works like a pillow. You rush forward to catch him by wrapping your arms around his chest again.

"Are you really going to make this difficult?" You sigh, hoisting him back upright.

"Come on," Kaeya whines, "I deserve the rest."

"You're nearly fully recovered." You reason.

He shakes his head yet again. The snow all over his hair whips against your nose and covers it with its own, new layer. "No, no, I'm still heavily injured!" He proclaims loudly.

His whole attitude–the strength for the scream, his quick rush to the snow, his incessant protest–it proved otherwise. He knows this, of course, he's aware enough for that. So he covers it up, "Please?" It was a genuine plead.

You press your head against his cold shoulder and huff, "Fine. Let's at least get a little deeper in, shall we?"

It was a little before evening when you made camp. You were still probably within the heart of this area. Lady Death told you were to go, though she didn't find herself gracious enough to tell you the name of where you were or perhaps give you a map. Not that you were expecting any of that.

The sun was going to set soon.

Kaeya sits close to the campfire, at the tent's entrance. Part of his love for the cold gave into his love for warmth. How he was a lover of both at the same time, he didn't know (What he did know is that he's loved worse things before).

The love that seeped between the two temperatures was the warmth after the cold. It melted the snow off his clothes and skin, and though it left him feeling naked and undecorated, it was a tender feeling. The warmth reminded him of many things, things that snow also did. It felt like a blanket, keeping him safe from the bitter cold and the outside world. It felt like safety, like that which emanated from Crepus and Dawn Winery's fireplace. Most of all, it felt like love, and he hardly needed a reason why.

He observes the lovely outside nature. Meanwhile, you lay inside bundled in your furs and curled into a ball. The downside of knowing many magics was that you weren't completely attuned to a single elemental practice. He doesn't know how, later on, you'll squeeze under the same blanket (the bigger one laid atop the horses) but that was a problem for later.

On the horizon, the sun was beginning to set. It still, however, shined brightly off of the white snow. The trees' leaves were caked with many layers of snow, and so was everything else, fern and grass, yet it all remained evergreen and alive. Parts of the snow, blue, yellow, even pale red, seemed to sparkle.

Kaeya yearned for a snowflake. Each one was unique. When he casted spells, snowflakes soon followed, but since they were man-made, they were always quite uniform. He wanted to see one, a natural one, and will it to expand. He wanted to see its intricacy.

His wish was granted.

It was when the blue sky began to turn red, orange, the medley of the rainbow, that it began to snow.

Kaeya gasps. It was small, quiet, but prolonged, and it catches your attention.

"Kaeya?" You call for him, hardly worried anymore.

He doesn't say anything, though, as he stands from the tent and far enough from the campfire, as if in a trance. At first, only tiny snowflakes fall, small in quantity, and they do so slowly, gently. Kaeya catches one in his gloved hand. The darkness of its leather contrasts against the snowflake.

He doesn't have time to admire just the one as more and more begin to fall. He catches a lot of them on the top of his hood. The rest land on his outstretched, covered arms or his open hands.

This is how you find him, twirling in the snow trying to catch snowflakes. They would eventually clump together, forming secure but muddled groups. If he knew that, he didn't care. He would be able to isolate one of them anyway.

The sunset behind him... casting its final glow onto his figure as he spun in the beginning snow fall... Gods.

You bite back the urge to bury yourself back in the tent and away from–as he said–refreshing cold, and admire him by the entrance. The overwhelming urge slowly dissipates as you take him in even more.

His spinning caused the sunrays to illuminate him once everywhere. One moment, the dark blue of his hair was a light, electric color instead; vibrant, just like his smile. The other, his face shined bright instead. It was already bright from his expression, wide eye, eyebrows raised, grin showing teeth; but it gave him something new. His dark skin glowed gold, like honey, so sweet you could gorge upon it. His smile–you could mention it ten times over–was wide, the widest you'd ever seen it in a long time. His joy and enthusiasm was clear, bursting within him.

He was so pretty.

You stand from the tent and make your way over, managing to ignore the cold nipping at your skin.

Kaeya notices you from his peripheral. The happiness on his face is even more evident when he turns towards you, as his partner is trying to enjoy the things he does. He beckons you over. You obey, despite that being your goal already.

The cryomancer dumps the snow from one of his hands onto the other. Then, he digs through it, as if trying to find the perfect snowflake. The small, determined "aha!" he lets out when he finds it is pure amusement to your ears. He lifts it up with his free hand and, with the mutter of a spell, enlarges it for admiration.

The setting sun would've cast half of it in shadow, and the other half in gold, yet it glowed a bright blue. You hardly needed to think why.

It had six branches from the middle, all brimming with their own subsections; and those subsections, their own branches. It was clear at the edges, where ice was less abundant. Overall, it wasn't very opaque, allowing you to see Kaeya's face right through it. He was admiring your face, your amazement, so you gave it to him. The center was oddly yet perfectly hexagonal, uniform even in nature. Some branches were the same thickness as their mirroring or neighboring branch, some varied greatly. That was what made it beautiful. It wasn't perfect, it was wild, unique, different.

"It's beautiful." You breathe out.

"Yeah. It is." He chuckles, waving away the snowflake. As it lands on the ground, it melts into the rest of the snow. He drops the rest of the snow from his other hand. "You're probably getting cold, aren't you?"

You chuckle yourself, "Yes. But I'd like to spend time with you out here."

His smile grows smaller but bashful. "Ah, well..." He turns away from you, suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want you to ca–"

"I want to." You interrupt him. "I do."

The bright joy on his face comes back again. Suddenly, he rushes forward, trapping you in an embrace. It's incredibly warm in this unbroken cold, and a feeling you relish. His cloak was still cold though, so you wrapped your arms around his waist underneath it instead. His nose buries into your neck, and somehow you can feel his smile against your skin.

When he pulls back from you, he still has his arms wrapped around your neck. His eye is full of admiration. It's lovely. "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for."

The sudden movement had rustled most of the snow off his cloak. When you part, now fully, you notice something different with it. Snowflakes stick to the navy blue, as if forming a pattern on their own. You pull the side forward to show it to him. At the sight of it, his face lights up even more. Was it intentional? It didn't matter.

He laughs, ecstatic, and takes of his cloak to admire it. The designs on it were meticulous, mostly snowflakes in varying sizes, all entirely unique; they were accompanied by lines interconnecting them. The entire design sparkled as it caught the remaining light of the sun.

It was nice to see him happy like this. You didn't even think about how long it would last for.

Death was everywhere and you could sense it. Long ago, you'd learned to suppress its presence. Had you not learnt to do so, you would feel its company every second of the day. Many a necromancer fell to madness because death had simply torn them apart. Its eyes were prying, its hands tended to, just barely, touch you for attention. Usually, they did not interfere with human life, though many wanted to; unless one was a necromancer. Necromancers were more susceptible to death, it was practically natural.

In some places, however, you couldn't simply ignore death. These places were brimming with death and suffering and sorrow, and it was so overwhelming there was nothing to think of except death.

Before your search, you had only ever felt such a feeling in graveyards. Afterwards, as you visited each ghost town you heard of, you discovered the same feeling. As sorrowful as these towns were, none of them was as bad as Everfree. The death there actually interfered with the susceptible living, necromancers, whispering in their ears.

That underlying feeling of death had only increased since you'd succumbed to the Smoke of Necromancy. It caused you to be acutely aware of much of the death around you, whether natural, accidental, or premeditated.

However, as you neared the Kingdom of Life, the feeling of undead company diminished. At some point, it ceased entirely.

The Seven Kingdoms had their godly patrons: Mondstadt had Favonius or Barbatos; Sumeru, Lesser Lord Kusanali; Liyue, Rex Lapis. Smaller kingdoms were hardly any different. Did the Kingdom of Life have their own patron? Perhaps Shri-Lakshmi? Regardless, even a God's influence couldn't give immortality. Lady Death and the balance between life and death would never allow that. The lack of death's presence near Life was a strange phenomena you ignored.

Come find us.

Yet, before you stand the stone walls of Life. They're high and intimidating and most of all, distrustful. Their gates, however, are the opposite. They're open and unguarded, of only wooden doors and not of iron bars. Regardless, the sight of civilization made you subconsciously prepare for the amount of death that reeked within cities, but... none stood before you. This has never happened before.

You gulp back the feeling of unease and go ahead. The shock, though, continues on as you see the citizens.

Everyone here was different from the other, each unique like snowflakes. All of them seemed to come from one of the Seven Kingdoms: a woman walked by, she wore a gorgeous sari; a street performer acted out a Natlan play, wearing a long shawl over leggings of a material rarely seen; a nearby vendor wore a kimono. So many cultures were everywhere that you couldn't discern who was a local and who was not.

It wasn't what made them stand apart from each other shocking, it was what made them different from you. They wore "replacements" that were visible. In fact, they seemed to wear them proudly. Folk with replacement arms cut their sleeves at the shoulder, for example. Just like their clothing, none of it was uniform. Some people were missing legs, others arms, others parts of their pelvis or the side of their stomach.

When Kaeya catches sight of a woman wearing a golden eyepatch, he suddenly goes cold, a bitter cold. He wraps an arm around himself, his other hand's fingers ghost over his right eye subconsciously.

Nothing specific really caused you to think of it, but your own hand lands on your right hip. It was still there. The spot wasn't vacant, rotting or incessantly bleeding. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What do you make of this?" Kaeya asks, his tone low so as to not draw attention.

"I don't know." Death remained scarily absent, and when it was, you could usually feel those close to death instead. You could feel none of that. "Their... original limbs were missing. They're replaced by prosthetics or covered by gold plates."

"Mhm." He hums in affirmation, his gaze attached intently to each passerby. "How do you reckon they lost their limbs?"

"Couldn't have been a nation-wide accident." You conclude. "Everyone's lost something different."

"Do you think we should try to fit in?" Kaeya proposes.

"You already do." He scoffs at that, so you apologize. "Dunno, what could I wear? How am I to get my hands on a golden plate?"

"Yeah, I don't know either. Let's just tread lightly. Try not to get any unwanted attention." That, you were good at.

Once Kaeya leaves the two horses at the stable for the both of you, you set off into the city. Your cloaks were overwhelmingly different from anyone else here; showing off their prosthetics meant that many could not cover their body's silhouette like you. Blending in was not so easy. Stares lingered and voices gossiped. The next time the darkness of shadows enveloped the two of you, Kaeya pulls you into an alley.

"Best we take my way." He says.

You stare out from the alleyways, their shadows shrouding you, and observed the people. There wasn't, and it wasn't "hardly", anyone without one of those prosthetics. It puzzled you.

It was funny how, after following Lady Death's command of finding her, or whoever us was, she was silent. She didn't give you anymore guiding commands, leaving the rest of your actions to be steps into the unknown. You know she does many things, but desert wasn't one of them, not until now.

As you walked from one alleyway to the next, you stepped on something that crunched. It was a paper, a flyer that had flown from its post. You held it up just slightly in the sliver of light from a nearby market stand and read.

"King Ki and Queen Laramee proudly invite anyone, and everyone, to the ball of the year celebrating the Queen's birthday." You read only loud enough for him to hear. "Her Majesty declares this year's theme: Masquerade. A parade will be set out beforehand for all to attend. May we dance till our feet (or foot!) fall off and bid Life adieu!"

"We can make up for that Fontaine ball we missed." Kaeya remarks, the humor in his voice only light.

"I suppose..."

Wait. A ball.

"I must have the perfect musicians for this event. I will not settle for less. If you can find…"

"We can't have the same events as last year. She'll deem it too boring."

"No, no, that's not enough, she would hate that."

The "eureka" moment pushes your hands to move, brimming with determination. They grab Kaeya's shoulders firmly to catch his attention. When he catches sight of your growing smile, his eyebrows furrow. "What? What is it?"

"I've figured it out. This–this King," Kaeya snatches the flyer from your hand before the growing strength of your grip can break it. "he's the same man I–we heard before when I examined that body, the one organizing a ball." Everfree had made you totally forget that aspect, the festival.

His eyebrows raise up high. "That–" He seems to choke on his own saliva as he registers it, "him, yeah, that makes sense!"

"The ball is for his queen's birthday," Your fingers snap subconsciously as you figure out details, "that's why he's obsessing over it being perfect."

"Wait, so," Kaeya shakes your hands off his shoulders, pushing his own forward. His eyebrows are furrow now as he thinks, "how does that tie into the Blood Parade? We came to the conclusion that he was the plague's origin."

"He still might be. Which means, his citizens, their prosthetics? They're victims of the Eatening."

The gears in Kaeya's head clearly turn outwardly. He nods his head many times, slowly. His vision unfocused entirely. He fiddles with his own fingers. You were right.

"The question is," You begin, "why?"

"We don't need to know why." He shakes his head, "We just need to stop him." The determination in his eye was clear. If you were to be honest, it was terribly scary. Not only the look, but also the notion that he doesn't deem it necessary to understand the King's motives and that the only option was to put it to an end; and that end, his tone suggested, was death. "You got energy for dress shopping in you?"

The ball was to be held in a week. Until then, you had some time to kill.

Where were you going to get gold plates? How did the people get their hands on them? Just, pop on by the blacksmith? You could bluff it out, say yours broke or lost. Kaeya was good at that. If that was the only plan you could come up with, it was worth a try.

Life eerily reminded you of Nieblina, a place for immigrants, a home away from home. It shot a pang of sorrow through your chest. How long had it been since you were in Nieblina? It hadn't been too long, couldn't have been. So far, you'd been able to keep distracted from it; distracted from the thought of home. But now, when all you could do was wait and ponder, there was no distraction. Home, Nieblina, they might as well be one in the same. You missed it. You missed them, Lorelai, Zero, Morden, fuckin' Maggot.

Most people here clearly didn't come from Life. Life itself was a hubbub of multiple cultures. How did they cope with homesickness? ...how did Kaeya?

A breeze pushed the hair off your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was getting cold, you should head inside, but you stayed instead. You admired the market below you. The night droned on, yet they remained at work. Several lights of clashing, differing colors illuminated the city. No place truly slept. It was a nice comfort.

Bumm!

The clocktower struck midnight. It was a magnificent structure, taller than the city walls. Its stonework was made so that one could admire its detail, even from a distance. The bricks were red, perhaps for the King, and the rooftiles were blue, for the Queen. Somehow, even though they were colors that didn't fit together, they matched perfectly.

Suddenly, a large image projects on top of each side of the tower. It was the Queen, Laramee, slumped over a rock and crying streams of tears that flow onto the barren ground. Once the tears hit the ground, the background to the image appears. It is a garden, abundant with greenery and blue flowers. Just as quick as it came, the image disappears.

You barely register Kaeya as he leans against the railing beside you, until he speaks up. "They're a bit self-absorbed, aren't they?"

Most alleyways had an image of one of the monarchs painted on the walls, as did administrative buildings, as if the citizens were all in a cult dedicated to their worship. The King and Queen each seemed to have their own gimmick.

The King was always portrayed in positions of power, leaning his weight over his dark red greatsword, sitting imposingly on his throne, pointing his hand towards the sky, surrounded by dozens of tiny soldiers.

The Queen, however, was always crying. Sometimes they were joyful tears, other times sorrowful. Much of the art depicted her mourning over her son, a great general who had died in war.

"Yeah." The thought–that other monarchs could be more narcissistic than Mondstadt's–is a bit humorous but the images they had of themselves plastered around the city served you well. It helped you confirm that they were truly the King and Queen you had seen in your vision. But how could you prove it was them who caused the plague? Now, suddenly faced with them, and not a drawn image like the cards, the reality of it set place. They were human, not monsters of the legend of the Abyss or heartless warlords.

To Kaeya, there was no denying it. They were on the cards with a clear symbol, King of Blood and Queen of Tears. The body had shown you that the monarchs were in Everfree, and the ghost town was clearly affected by the Blood Parade. At seven in the evening, the clocktower shined with a different image: the King of Blood commanding his army. His eyes glowed red and his smile was proud. Kaeya interrogated many aspiring villains in his lifetime. He could tell their intent just by the look of them, and it was clearest in him.

The curious part about Life was that it had no churches. The hunch you had about its godly patron, and the assumption that there was one in the first place, was wrong. The other weird structural part was that, within the city walls, there was no graveyard. To bury one's dead outside of the city and in the wilderness, where none of the surrounding area beheld villages that could be claimed by Life, felt treacherous. They were being buried in a place they wouldn't ever call home.

But those decisions weren't yours.

Kaeya ventured out into the city with you in tow. This time, you ignored the stares and the whispers, for you had an actual destination: the blacksmith. You already had some of the conversation planned out. Yours, anyway. Kaeya's skills were nothing to be scoffed at, so improvisation was natural.

Despite being the one that, supposedly, made prosthetics for the people, he too eyed you suspiciously. Still, he regarded you politely with a gruff voice, "What do you need?"

After a brief explanation, Kaeya begins. "An eyepatch," He points at his covered eye. "and..." He gestures towards you.

You pull the top of your shirt down to reveal a part of your chest. The blacksmith peered down, his eyes widen. He can see right through the middle of it, straight at the back of your shirt. He nods grimly. "Allow me to take measurements."

With that errand done, and the final date in your minds, you part from the blacksmith. Kaeya bumps into your shoulder purposefully as you walk. "Did you have that in mind?"

"What?"

"The Eatening injury."

You shrug, "Sort of, not really." It might've been easier to place it on your hip, but your mind jumped to your chest immediately and you didn't have a clue why.

"What, got heartache?" He snickers. It was only a light jab at you, but he didn't know just how much truth there was to that, especially in relation to your regrets.

"...Sure."

Kaeya opens his mouth to continue the banter, but you stop mid-step, making him join you curiously. He follows your gaze at the mural in front of you.

The mural was split in two. The first half depicted the King in war, slaying his foes. He was covered in blood, blood that seemed to steam over his shoulders. His soldiers were long gone, but he still stood. The other half depicted the Queen, still mourning. The beautiful garden around her remained unnoticed by her closed eyes, brimming with tears. She was hunched over a fountain, her tears being its supply of water.

You heard that, when her son died, she spent several years at the Garden of Tears, crying. If the King were to die, the same thing would happen. She would spend the rest of her life mourning.

You turn to Kaeya. He wears a look that, for the first time in ages, you can exactly decipher; not because you knew him well, but because it was extremely clear on his face. This mural didn't affect his sympathy at all. Instead, it set it in even more.

"Should we," You begin, to bring his focus away, "visit that garden?"

He nods his head, curtly. "Yeah."

The clock struck twelve again, twelve in the afternoon, as you set foot in the garden. It was rather fitting.

Despite it being midday, the sun didn't quite reach the garden. It remained serene and blue, unaffected by the sun's warmth or bright sunrays. Huge, blue willows were the cause. They were dotted around everywhere, over each pathway, casting shade over the entire garden. Baby blue lights lined the pathways. They were magical, floating like fireflies. Some strayed from their groups, illuminating the rest of the garden so that it could be admired.

It was mostly populated by flowers, a vast majority blue, some purple, and even rarer still, red. Red for the King, you suppose, and purple for the combination of their two colors. Reds were most common at the fountain at the center of the garden, which could undoubtedly be spotted from any angle.

The garden drew many animals to it, though only small rodents at best. It was the home for birds, rabbits, and many insects; like an oasis in the middle of the big, barren city.

Headstrong or not, Kaeya had to admit the garden was beautiful. He had to take your hand so that he wouldn't stray from your side... or maybe it was the other way 'round, as he dragged you to the nearest bush.

"Blueberries.." He muttered under his breath. He picked one from the rest, squashing it in his palm. It bled red, staining his hands like a crime scene. "Interesting."

The plants here couldn't be trusted. Neither could the fauna.

He picked another. It, too, bled red. The tower, at three o'clock, showed you an image of the King studying from a magic book. The Queen stood next to him, already casting a spell. Kaeya wonders, no, he knows, that this red is caused by a magic spell. Whether it is an illusion or reality, he can't tell.

He leads you to the fountain next. Twelve o'clock showed that the fountain ran on the Queen's tears. He hardly needed to look at the fountain to know that it was true. Much like the rest of the garden, the tears shimmered blue. When stray sunlight gleamed over the top, it shined silver, like the Queen's jewelry.

He snapped a petal off a rose around the fountain's base. The base of the missing petal bled red, which is both something new and a weird reaction from a flower. The petal of the next flower, a blue rose, bled red.

While Kaeya remained inquisitive, you observed his investigation. It was easy to make an assumption, though, that the anything here would bleed red. It was a sort of symbol of their power. They were still able to power the magic lights and grow special and magical plants, despite having greater uses for their magic, like the expansion of their Kingdom.

You wondered, then, what came to be from the wars painted in each mural. If they had won them, what territory did they now own? And why have you never heard of any of these devastating wars?

The Kingdom of Life had already worn down, in some places, with age. Wood creaked, masonry cracked, bright colors faded from constant sunlight. So how old were the monarchs? Did they have predecessors?

"Rex pugnat." Kaeya begins, which catches your attention. He's crouched by the fountain's base, parting the flowers crowded there and reading the faded words carved in gold. "Regina luget. Suum bellum continuat. Lacrimae hoc volunt: desine."

"Do you know what it means?" You ask, pensively.

"Amen for the Church of Favonius..." Kaeya mutters under his breath, deciphering the words in his mind. You chuckle at that. "It's rugged, but," He clears his throat and begins to recite, "The King fights. The Queen mourns. His fight continues. Tears want, no, mean this: cease."

"Hmm," Curiouser and curiouser. "anything else?"

"No." He replies immediately. "What do you make of it?"

"Well," You pause, compiling your thoughts. Did they make sense? Yeah, or as much as they could with what little you had. "the Queen mourned for the loss of her son. The King continued the war, despite the Queen's pleading. She was afraid of losing him as well. Her tears flowed endlessly, and they were a plead for him to stop."

You could see doubt being to spring onto Kaeya's face. The Queen loved the King very much. Two o'clock always showed something different: the two of them dancing; the Queen, then princess, dragging the two of them along, the King, then prince, hiding his smile; the King on one knee, proposing. They were always young at two o'clock. The hour was surely showing that they loved each other.

"If I take him from her..." He trailed off.

"She will mourn." You finish for him. "Maybe forever."

"How..." His lips draw low into a scowl. His gaze remained on the flowers in front of him, alternating blue and red, signifying the Queen and King. "how would we convince him to stop?"

"I'm not sure."

Kaeya sits himself down at the edge of the fountain, weighing his options. "If the Queen can't convince him, how could we?"

And again, your answer is unknown. He heaves a sigh. "My morality is in question."

You snicker, "Mine is already in shambles."

"I mean," He chortles, exasperated, "we have to stop him somehow, right?"

"Yeah." You sit down next to him, tired yourself. Kaeya's mindset, you'd already understood. A man like him, the King of Blood, couldn't be stopped using words or the power of friendship and love; yet, you still wanted another option. There was no other.

"Whatever it takes." Though usually a phrase of ambition, he slumps down against you dejectedly, pressing his nose against your shoulder.

You nod, a comforting hand on his back. "Whatever it takes."

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #🌸 // success!#blurred lines #blurred lines series #🎟 // genshin impact #🎫 // kaeya #🎫 // kaeya alberich #🌂 // failure

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reddoesthingsfinally · 2 years ago

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Introductory post!

General Info

Hey! I'm...um...I guess the host? Technically? Of this maybe system? I'm questioning if I'm a system. My main reason that I'm unsure is that I could just be imagining imaginary friends, or unintentionally faking it, or something like that. Unlike most of what we've seen, I am around basically all of the time. We don't have amnesiac barriers (I think?), and I rarely if ever stop "fronting". Usually, I'll "co-host" with someone else (I think that's what it called), and sometimes they'll just flat out kick me out of the body, but I still can watch the body (Red most frequently takes the body, but usually for a good reason in her mind). Usually other "alters" are more of high influencers, but sometimes if I do certain things to make them happy they'll get more of a presence. I also notice they seem to come around when I think about them, which is annoying when I'm trying to make a post independently lol. I have my own pocket of the mind world, and then we seem to have a more public space that I didn't really know had other people in it until recently. Out of everyone, as far as I can gather, I'm the most skeptical when it comes to us having anything neurodivergent, and by far the most openly resistant to the idea that we are a system, though even I have to admit that you can't really fake having multiple people living in your brain since you were very very little, and definitely not unintentionally. I have no plans on bringing this up to anyone, and frankly wouldn't have brought this up here if Red hadn't taken over and fought me to make it. Thanks, Red, I guess.

If anyone else wants to add anything here, I'll let them (or let them ask since few can/will yoink the body, forcefully or not, like Red will), but I don't want to violate anyone's privacy. Since this is the first time I've really tried communicating with them as opposed to brushing them off as imaginary friends when I think 'y'know, maybe having multiple people in one body ISN'T normal', it'll probably take a while to figure stuff out.

I will be using system terms when I can't think of anything better, but please note that I'm not trying to self-diagnose myself as a system. The terminology used simply is the best way to describe my experiences, and others. If this is an issue, I'll attempt to find an alternative and erase the problematic language immediately.

Storm (M)

If you see anything marked with 'M', that's me. It's what I used before Storm. I'm Storm, btw. I'm the main "host" and very rarely leave the body, practically never of my own free will. I identify with the body in most ways, though there are things that I can say I don't identify with. I don't think I'm in a system, and whether that's true or plain denial only time will tell. All I know is, I've got a few others knocking around in here and I can't always tell who it is. It's actually quite rare, which is why I've started making lists of traits and how to identify who's with me or around me. (I've found the most common identification is in how I move and speak, and when a shift happened). It's definitely helped me. I'm probably the most protective when it comes to my body's disabilities and not setting them off, though I haven't decided how I feel about our cane yet.

I'm open to advice on finding out if I'm a system, communicating with alters (or other people in the brain, regardless), stuff like that, though I have been known to be fairly rigid and resistance to the idea of being neurodivergent, even if I wouldn't be all that surprised.

Red

I'm not Red, but I am going to say she's the one that actually made account, so don't be surprised if she's the one using it more than I am. I'll leave this here for her to fill or edit as she desires.

Red appreciation moment, thank you for always being there to defend us <3 I know I'm being grumpy about the account here and I can't really communicate with you but thanks <3 idk if this works I'm new to this giving it a go though

Smoke

Hey. I was trying to stay hidden but while fronting Storm figured out I was here, so. Smoke is the nickname I've been given since I haven't told anyone my name. I won't be answering questions about myself, I prefer to remain mysterious and the others need me to remain that way. I may speak dramatically or as though I'm in a movie or book, so if I'm ever taking anything "too seriously" that is likely why. Don't expect me to speak much about myself on here, though I may post rambles or snippets of writing if I think about it.

#am i a system?#do i have alters?#questioning system #introduction

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Love On-Set (Pt. 06 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

Word count: 3 K

<- Previous part (05)

Next part (07) ->

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Los Angeles

The fresh wind messes with your hair as you squint your eyes at the rising sun. You always loved the beach, but this one is your favorite. The way the light blue color of the ocean mixes with the sky is breathtaking, and you know you could spend all of your days here, just looking at the horizon, not a single worry on your mind. It's peaceful, like paradise. The sand is soft under your bare feet, and there's nobody here yet. It's too early, and the only reason why you're here is because you missed this feeling.

It doesn't matter where you go, you'll always want to return here, even is it's just for a visit. The only sound you hear is from the crashing waves, slow and calming, like music. You can't help but smile, eyes closed to better feel the warmth of the sunlight in your skin.

The unmistakable click of a camera gets your attention, forcing you to open your eyes again. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder if someone recognized you. It happened only once, even before the shooting for the season three started when a girl spotted you as the girl who Billy almost ran over. But that was it.

Turning around to check the source of the sound, your heart stops for a moment when you see Dacre, still putting his phone down.

“Sorry, but you were looking so good.” He says, making his way over you.

He's the one looking good. The white pants and pale blue shirt mix perfectly with the atmosphere, light, and relaxing. And all the rest too. His face, his smile, the way he walks. You're quick to notice the first three buttons of his shirt are opened and you wonder if he's getting this idea from Billy. “Me? Please, look at you. You're... Gorgeous.”

“Yeah.” She simply says, finally reaching you. “I'm glad you're still here. I was scared you'd be gone.”

Dacre lives forty-five minutes away from you. It's not that close, but close enough, you think. Maybe it's fate, or so says Millie. Like a sign. “I can't believe you came all the way here.” An hour ago, before you came to the beach, you answered his text to let him know where you would be since you wouldn't bring your phone.

“Better start trying, because here I am.”

Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you turn at the ocean again. “Well, this is one of my favorite places on Earth.”

“I noticed.”

“Really? How?” Crossing your arms, you look at him. Dacre's eyes are as blue as the ocean. But they're much more beautiful.

“The shine in your eyes.” He answers, shrugging his shoulders. “It's pretty obvious if you pay attention.”

“You say these things and I don't even know what to think.” Unlike you, Dacre doesn't try to hide his feelings or thoughts. He's honest, every time.

“Just tell me how you feel about this place.” He lightly touches your arm, and you set in a slow walk.

“Uhm...” You mutter, feeling as his hand slides down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers linger for a while, and you feel the usual sensation Dacre brings you. Butterflies, moving all over your skin, tickling. Slowly, very, almost painfully, his fingers brush on yours, and when he's just about to let go, you decide to be brave, intertwining your fingers with his. You wait for him to still want to let to, but he doesn't. His grip only gets tighter. “It's beautiful, obliviously.”

“That's it? Is that everything you have to say about one of your favorite places on Earth?” You stop a few feet away from where the ripples reach. “You know you can tell me how you feel, right? I want to know.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn your body towards Dacre, trying not to look as nervous as you feel right now, holding his hand. “This is nostalgic. It's my second home after that house over there.” You gesture at a small group of houses by a cliff. “Mine is the tiniest one. I grew up here but only moved back a year ago. This beach makes me feel... Free. Like there is not a single worry in the world. It's... Bliss.”

Dacre is already looking down at you when your eyes meets his. The smile on his lips sends shivers down your spine. “I'm happy you shared it with me.”

“It's just... A couple of words.” Blushing, you look down. “It doesn't mean anything.”

“It means a lot.” His free hand comes to your face, fingers softly caressing your cheek and jaw. “To both of us.”

You were just about to say something when the water reaches your feet, and you give a little jump. “Oh my Gosh!” You exclaim, giggling.

“Wanna go for a swim?” He asks.

“I can't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a look at the ocean. “I don't know how to.”

“What?”

“It's not a big deal.”

“We were shooting next to a pool and you didn't tell me you can't swim?” He sounds a little offended, but when you look at him again, you can tell he's faking it. “I play the lifeguard, I should know that.”

“Well, you never asked.” Letting go of his hand, you start walking backward, away from the water.

“No, no.” He's quick to grab your arm, smirking. “We will go for a dive. C'mon.”

“No way!” You start pulling back, and a small fight starts. “You have your phone with you, remember? You'll ruin it.”

“Let me just–.” Dacre searches on his pocket, easily finding his phone and throwing it on the sand, away from the water. “Problem solved.”

“Dacre...”

“I won't let you drown. Trust me.” His voice invites you in, and you know you can't fight it. And you do trust him.

Sighing, you surrender, allowing him to pull you into the water. Your eyes are focused on his, and it's impossible to keep the usual distance. When your feet stop touching the bottom, you have no choice but to cling onto him, arms around his neck. Dacre holds you tight, arms encircling your waist, and you feel secure in his embrace. Fortunately, the water is calm, and the waves are small. It'll change in a few hours though, but for now, they won't be a problem.

There's nothing else to do now. Your foreheads are almost touching, and there's no space between your bodies. You've never been this close to him, not even on scene. You wonder if he can listen to your heart, beating insanely fast.

“Hold your breath.” He says and you nod, taking the deepest breath you can.

Dacre pulls you down with him, and you close your eyes shut. It only takes a few seconds before you break to the surface again, releasing the air from your lungs and lips breaking into a smile.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Why?” You ask, letting go of him just to remove some of the hair that was attached to your face.

“Your cheeks are red.”

“Oh...” There's no way to hide it now, standing face to face with him. “I'm alright. I know you won't let your co-star drown.”

“Never.” He whispers, his voice deep and soft. “Actually, I–” Dacre is cut short by his cellphone ringing. It's a low, calming song you don't know.

“Maybe we should go.”

“I know who it is. This magazine wants an interview and a photoshoot but I told them I'd only accept if you could come with me.”

“What?” You giggle, furrowing your eyebrows. “I'm not as famous as you, they wouldn't want me.”

“The whole interview will be about Billy and Stranger Things. People are already shipping Billy and Amy, it'll only make sense if you're there with me.” As he speaks, Dacre starts making his way back to the beach, only letting go of you when you're out of the water. “And the moment season 3 starts, you won't be left alone by the fans, trust me.”

“Would James allow it? Seeing us together will raise suspicions.”

“Yeah, I texted James about it. He said it's a good idea, to get people hyped for the next season.” Dacre carefully picks up his phone. “What do you say? We could even go out after. Have dinner somewhere nice.”

Does he mean it like a date? It can't be... Right? “Ok, then. When is it?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up.”

Smiling, you nod, biting your lip.

You would stay the whole day with Dacre, but you had promised your mother you'd spend the day with her. And Dacre understands it. You took him to your house so he could dry himself and have breakfast since he only had a cup of coffee.

When he leaves, your mother makes a lot of questions, and you're happy to answer. She teases you a lot, making silly comments and reminding you how handsome Dacre is throughout the day. You don't need to be reminded though, you know it very well.

When the next day comes, you patiently wait for him after having lunch and taking a fresh shower. You wonder if you'll always feel this nervous about Dacre. Just the thought of seeing him in a couple of minutes sends a shiver down your spine, makes your stomach burn with anticipation. When the doorbell rings, you jump up, taking your bag, and ignoring the stare your mother gives you.

“Bye, mom.” You mutter, heading to the front door. Taking a deep breath, you open it, trying not to smile. And failing. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back, and you start making your way to his car. “Excited?”

“Wondering what they'll ask. They always want some spoilers.” You get into the passenger seat, blushing with the fact that Dacre just opened the door for you.

“That they do.”

The ride is filled with chattering. You tell him about your childhood and he does the same. Eventually, you're not sure how exactly, you have your hand on his shoulder as he drives, then on his neck. He touches your leg every once in a while, and you can't help but blush a little.

But soon enough you're at this amazing, luxury hotel. The photoshoot will take place at the pools, which are absolutely incredible. It's huge, and there's an aisle in the middle, with a bridge that leads to it. A stylist comes to take you to the dressing room so you can change. It'll be 80's themed, so your swimsuit is very colorful, blue, green, and pink. The one piece is open on the sides and on the back, and it looks amazing. Your hair is done very quickly, beach waves with some volume. It takes an hour until you're allowed out, and Dacre is ready, talking to a guy. He looks good, his blue and green shirt unbuttoned, leaving his chest exposed.

“Hey,” you mutter when you're close enough. “Looking good.”

“Not as good as you.” He says, winking. “We were waiting for you, the interview happens now, then the photoshoot.”

“Alright.” Dacre guides you to a small scenario, with three chairs and a huge Stranger Things poster behind. The cameras are already positioned, and a woman comes to pin the microphones on your suits.

Once everything is ready, you and Dacre sit down, and a middle-aged woman takes the seat before you, a smile on her lips. The interview goes on very well, with small questions about what the public can expect from the new season, and from the relationship between Billy and Amy. People are really excited about it, you didn't know how much. You make a self note to make some research, to know where exactly the fans stand.

It was great until the video in the gym comes up. “I think it's pretty obvious, but that got people talking.” The woman, Maryan, says. “So I gotta ask. Is there anything happening between you two? Away from the cameras?”

You exchange a glance with Dacre, and you have no idea what to say. You don't want to say no, but you're too scared to say yes...

“Well, if there is you'll find out soon or later so...” Dacre speaks up, and you can tell this is the gentle way of saying this isn't her business.

She seems happy with that, making a quick remark before finishing the interview. Then different people take over. The photographer, a short man with grey hair and a huge camera starts guiding you around the pools. The stylist comes to fix your hair every time you strike a pose. And obviously, it takes little time for you and Dacre to be put close, very close.

You have fun though, laughing at his jokes about how weird things can get on these things. And that he's happy you're here.

“Alright. (Y/N), lie down, please. Dacre, sit down beside her.” Nodding, you follow the instructions. Half your body is in the shadow and the other half under the sunlight as you lie down near the pool. “Dacre, I want you to look down at her, and (Y/N), reach out your hand to touch his face.”

Trying to keep it professional, you do as he says. Dacre's eyes burn right through you, and you would give all the money you have to know what he's thinking. Slowly, you caress his jaw with your thumb, realizing you never touched him like this.

“You ok?” He asks, for the hundredth time. Dacre is always making sure you're comfortable, but the truth is that you're more than comfortable. You're actually starting to crave for this proximity, for his touch.

“Yeah...”

The camera flashes and you smile. “Look over here.” The photographer commands and you follow. “Amazing, amazing.”

The good news is that you're enjoying yourself. The bad news is that they make you get inside the pool, which is too deep. So all the photos have you on Dacre's arms, and honestly, you don't mind one bit.

The night is falling when the photoshoot is over and Dacre takes you to one of his favorites restaurants. It was an area on the back from which you have a view of the city. You both continue talking about childhood memories and stuff like that, and you tell him about your father. How he forced both you and your mother to put the walls high, to keep people away. Dacre is so kind though, reassuring you he wants to get in. That he wants to know how you feel, all the time. You still wonder if he means it though, you can't help it. But by the end of the night, after you both ate the desert and are now just chattering, you feel like he means it.

“Oh, have you read the script they sent us? They changed so many things they had to add another episode.” Dacre says, elbows on the table.

“Of course I didn't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you raise an eyebrow. “We got a five days vacation and that means no work. And since I have you to read it and tell me everything... Why should I?”

“Really? Are you making me do all the hard work in scene?” He makes a pause when the waiter comes with the check.

“James always likes it better when we improvise anyways.”

“I have no idea why.” He says, taking the check.

“Hey, we can–”

“I'm paying and that's not up to discussion.” He cuts you off, giving you a glance as he leaves the money on the table before standing up.

“But–”

“(Y/N), I...” You were just about to head to the exit when he stops, still near the table. “I'm not sure if I made it clear, I should've have... But this was supposed to be a date.”

Blushing, you gasp, looking at him in the eyes. “It kinda felt like a date but I didn't want to assume anything.”

“Well, if you're ok with it, I'd like this to be the first date.” Some people walk by, so you set in motion, walking towards the exit and to the parking lot.

“I'm ok with that.” More than ok, actually. Your stomach feels funny as he opens the passenger door for you, and your skin is on fire.

“Well...” He mumbles as he gets in, starting the car. “It's still a little early but since we have a flight tomorrow morning, we'll both need to get some sleep.”

“Definitely.” You agree. Tomorrow you'll be flying back to the set, straight to the kissing scene. As if he's listening to your thoughts, Dacre gives you a glance. “Excited to go back to work?”

“I am actually.” He nods, eyes on the road.

“Why?” It comes out suddenly because you can't help but wonder if it's for the kiss. If he wants to kiss you as you want to kiss him.

“...I miss the guys, that's all.”

“Oh...” Shifting in your seat, you look away from him, eyes on the road ahead. Your heart sinks a little, and now you're genuinely confused. “Me too.”

“Yeah.” He mumbles, a hand running through his hair.

The rest of the ride to your place is silent, and when you get there, you mutter a goodbye. Once you're inside, away from Dacre, you can't help but feel a little stupid. Maybe you're misreading the signs. He did say today was supposed to be a date, so you don't get why he ignored the kiss. He knows that's the scene you'll be shooting tomorrow night. You'll be thrown back into work straight into the very scene you've been worrying about since the beginning. You were hoping he'd say something, make it easier or... You just don't know anymore. If Dacre wants a date, he should want a kiss too, right? Isn't it how it works?

Not even the fresh shower helps you understand what's going on. With you or with Dacre. Climbing into bed, you feel the wind invading the bedroom, but you're too lost in thoughts to enjoy it. The truth is that you were excited to do it, to shoot that scene and finally kiss him, but now... Now you feel as you did on the first day.

The soft notification sound of your phone gets your attention. Stretching your arm, you take it. It's a voice message from Dacre. Maybe he regrets the whole first date thing and he wants you to know... It'll only make things worse, but you should know it. The sooner the better. You're a professional, and you'll manage to do your job no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you unlock your phone, pressing play on the message and bringing the phone to your ear.

You can hear his heavy breath before any words come. It takes a couple of seconds until his voice breaks through. “I probably shouldn't say this through a message, but I think I won't be able to sleep if I don't let you know how I feel.” A pause, something falling on the background. “Tomorrow on the scene... It won't be Billy and Amy, it'll be you and me.” This makes you sit up straight, a hand in your heart as it starts beating dangerously fast. “I can't be Billy when I'm with you, when we're so close, it just... I've been breaking character every time and I never struggled so much with a character before.” His voice is heavy with sleep. “I know you've been struggling too and I have no idea why I didn't tell you all this in the car, I just... I really like you and tomorrow I'll kiss you but I didn't want our the first kiss to be like that... So I'm just letting you know when it happens it won't be Billy, it'll be me and... And I hope it'll be you too. Good night, (Y/N).”

His voice is long gone, but you keep still, frozen, eyes on the wall across the room. You can't believe what you just heard.

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines @peakascum

#dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfiction #imagine dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove x reader #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine

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local-triggerhead · 3 years ago

Text

[Theory/Analysis] The Motives of Each Eugenicist

Wow, look at me rising from the graves and dusting off this account after 800 years like it's nothing. Your Trigger hype beast is back baby, if any of you still remember me.

This post contains spoilers for both Gridman and Dynazenon.

Ahem. I want to make this post to gather my thoughts and better understand the antagonists of the show, as they aren't heavily featured and explored like Akane. It's just my own analysis based on what I can observe in the show, so some parts would be more vague and generate different interpretations. This analysis may seem obvious to some and not so much to others, but I hope it'll offer some clarity regardless. Tl;dr at the bottom.

The General Motive

It's pretty much given in the show. The Kaiju Eugenicists wanted to destroy humanity and create a world where themselves and kaiju can live and be accepted. They believe that the world is a better place as you're no longer being tied down by human bonds, granting you unrestricted freedom beyond even the laws of physics. This is their shared goal. However, each of them have separated purposes and things they want to achieve along with this.

Onija

Let's start with the 2 more obvious cases. Onija clearly stated what he wanted to do - kill all humans. How many times did he yell this out? It's kind of shoved-in-your-face. No other Eugenicists expressed this desire as strongly as he did. At the base level, he simply wanted to live. He was brutally killed once and was determined to not let it happen again no matter what. This is why "I thought I was dead" was a constant running joke. It's also why Onija had a deep personal grudge towards Gauma and humans, who were the cause of his death 5000 years ago.

Juuga

Juuga had a deep admiration for Gauma and looked up to him. Unlike Onija, he didn't wish to oppose Gauma, but to make an alliance instead. When the Eugenicists first appeared, Juuga said:

It's clear from this line that he wanted things to be the way it was 5000 years ago, where they were a group of friends working towards the same goal. He missed and yearned for that carefree time. The original Eugenicist group was the most important thing to him. You can see that he never fought with any other Eugenicists, but remained calm and passive towards them at all times. This attitude only extended towards the Eugenicists, as he had no qualms about killing anyone else for his goal, including the Dynazenon crew.

Even when Mujina stole Dyna Striker, the first thing that came to his mind was using it to negotiate with Gauma and get him back.

Mujina

These last 2 Eugenicists are slightly more complicated to pick apart, as they process things more internally.

At first, Mujina was very indecisive and didn't buy much into this kaiju thing. All she wanted was to finish it quickly so she could leave. She was lost in life and just followed the other Eugenicists around because she had no directions of her own. Then Mujina found Koyomi, someone who also didn't have anything going for himself and just plainly a loser in his life. He was someone she could feel related to. Mujina's attitude supposedly changed after she was tackled by Koyomi, but I believe this just pissed her off and only played a part in her personality shift. The other cause, I think, was Sizumu's encouragement, where she "realized that kaiju is all [she has] got" and that she had to take responsibility for her actions.

Koyomi came to play a major role in episode 11, when Mujina witnessed him starting to look for a job. The only person who she could feel related to was unaffected by the aftermath of the kaiju and moving forward with ease. Meanwhile, Mujina, who had just found her purpose in life, lost it once again and was now completely stuck, as the future where the Eugenicists could live and be accepted was destroyed. When facing such a crisis, one would seek to put the blame on something for all of their problems, and Koyomi just happened to be the perfect target.

Sizumu

Toughest one to crack here, but I'll shoot my best shot. In the beginning, he opposed the Dynazenon crew the least among the Eugenicists. He suggested against killing them, had the most interaction with Yomogi and Yume, and suggested Mujina to return Dyna Striker for seemingly no reasons at all. His main reason for not killing Team Dynazenon was to see more kaiju, and getting close to Yomogi and Yume was for his kaiju to absorb their emotions. However, I believe there was another underlying reason that tied his actions together. He was looking for an alliance.

Contrary to Juuga, the alliance he was looking for didn't only include Gauma, but Team Dynazenon as a whole. To understand why he searched for this, we must first look at what he was. He had an ability that allowed him to hear kaiju voices, which gave him a much deeper understanding of kaiju compared to the other Eugenicists. Due to this, while the others more or less thought of kaiju as a mean to create a world where they can live and be accepted, Sizumu would consider kaiju as his own kind, so much so that he had a severe disconnection with humans. He distanced himself away from even the Eugenicists, almost as if he only tagged along because they shared the same basic goal.

He didn't seek to understand humans, but instead for humans to understand kaiju. His goal was to create a world where not only the Eugenicists were accepted, but kaiju themselves were accepted. He believed that the world was better off like this, because, from his perspective, kaiju could liberate people from human bonds and offer them unlimited freedom. To me, this is rather hypocritical as he never understood why people tied themselves to these bonds in the first place, so he wasn't in a position to say what was better and what wasn't.

Sizumu was the only Eugenicist to mention this kaiju power and express his distaste towards human bonds. He explained this very early on to Yomogi and Yume, and why did he do this, you may ask? Why, to help them understand his views and create an opening for a potential alliance, of course. If his only purpose was to absorb their emotions, then that's quite a lot of unnecessary effort to make himself look friendly and approachable to an uncanny degree, especially when being "friendly and approachable" wasn't his forte. No, he was testing the water to see if he could get them on his side.

Then came an unexpected opportunity for him to determine once and for all if Team Dynazenon can understand and accept kaiju. He let a failed kaiju run free and distracted the Eugenicists away from it (with a tactic he learned from Chise) to see what the Dynazenon crew would do. Some people said that it's to test if any of them were kaiju user, and while that's possible, I think it's a little unlikely. Sizumu only observed them at 2 instances, first was when they started the search for the kaiju, the second was when their beam destroyed the kaiju. Unless the kaiju voices could tell him, there would be no way for Sizumu to know if any of them used Instance Domination, until the very end when Yomogi used it on him. The likelier hypothesis would be: he saw them searching for the kaiju > he saw the kaiju being killed > he surmised that kaiju couldn't exist peacefully with Team Dynazenon, and didn't seem to be particularly happy about it.

From then on, Sizumu decided that they couldn't be his allies thus no longer approached Yomogi or Yume. It seems that he arrived to this final conclusion:

And this is where the series itself left off. Kaiju simply can't co-exist with humans. They are irregulars to the human society. Furthermore, the freedom that they offer can't be allowed to exist as running away from society and real human connections is wrong, even if reality is ugly and difficult to face. This is what make the series similar to Gridman. However, unlike Akane, the antagonists of Dynazenon failed to realized this and didn't get their happy ending.

(A detail that I'd like to mention is that Sizumu was silent during the entire final battle in contrast to the other Eugenicists who were pumping themselves up. It was like he was saying, "Didn't want to do this but I guess you left me with no choice". Though silence can mean anything so it's not a concrete evidence.)

TL;DR and Final Words

This is so much longer than I thought and I really apologize for it. I just don't want to make anyone do logical leaps when reading this post.

Tl;dr:

- Onija wanted to live and had a grudge towards Gauma and humans for causing his death.

- Juuga wanted Gauma to join them again and for things to be back the way it was 5000 years ago. He cared for nothing outside of the Eugenicists group.

- Munija wanted a purpose, found one, then lost it again. She envied Koyomi for regaining his sense of purpose and moving forward with his life.

- Sizumu wanted humans to understand kaiju and a world where kaiju can set humans free from their bonds. Initially considered an alliance with Team Dynazenon, but concluded that them (and people in general) couldn't understand kaiju after all.

- Final message of the show: Go touch some grass and talk to humans you fucking weebs.

Misc

When using Instance Domination, the palms of the Eugenicists always face towards the kaiju. The only exception is the last battle where Sizumu's palm faced towards himself, indicating that the kaiju was inside him. I believe that it was located at the center of his chest, where he shot out that weird magical light beam. Just a small thing I find interesting.

If we want to take it a step further, I believe the seed inside him had already grown into a kaiju, but it was still relatively small until he used Instance Domination on it. Eerie, huh?

And this is more of the theory territory and leaving the analysis, but this could possibly be why he was able to hear kaiju voices. Chise was able to understand Goldburn and translated for him at the end, so maybe having a kaiju inside of you would allow you to understand other kaiju somehow? If this is the case, he would probably have had the kaiju inside of him since 5000 years ago.

There's also this big brain moment from a 4chan user. The resemblance between Yume and Juuga is kinda uncanny considering they're both obsessed with the past.

That's it boys. I'm gonna crawl back into my hole until next century, or until Trigger drops Edgerunners. 8/10 show, VERY underrated gem. Trigger won't stop saving anime.

This post but on Reddit:

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f0xfordcomma · 3 years ago

Note

Hello!! Happy FFWF!! Is there anything in particular that you find hard to write? Are there any WIPs that you've just absolutely given up on cause you think it'll go nowhere?? (would you share a bit of it? :D)

Croisty! Happy ffw tuesday (which tbh is earlier than I thought I'd be able to do these, so be proud of me lol)

I wish I had more to go off of in my writing portfolio to answer this question, but I think the thing I have the hardest time writing/ have avoided writing in my wips is just unfettered angst or like horror/ violence. Like character death? Gore? Fight scenes? (ooooh baby I SUCK at fight scenes) all of /that/ is just not really my forte as a writer. Don't get me wrong, I am not opposed to hurting my characters, but hurt/comfort is more where its at for me. You've read my stuff, so you know how emotionally driven a lot of my writing is. I think I would have a hard time writing more graphic/ heartbreaking/ violent *stuff* in my style. Idk, it would probably be a good thing for me to practice.... but.... I don't wanna (hands on hips) sooooo I'm not planning to really do anything quite like that anytime soon.

As far as abandoned wips go, I've got plentyyyy (or just verrrrrrry dusty wips that are not quite abandoned but are sitting very patiently on the shelf waiting for me to have the time to get back to them) Violent/ angsty/ deathy/ fighty abandoned wips though? Not so much.

But for you, mon petit croissant, have a bit of a miraculous ladybug reveal fic that I wrote one night after having a little ~ouid~ and convincing my husband to put on a sheet face mask with me that I now have no intention of finishing (oops, rip me).

okaaaaayyy so this is actually pretty dang long lol but I'm going to share the whole thing with you because I just re-read it for the first time in months and its pretty funny ~if you ask me~ so anyway... under the cut <3

NIGHT OFF

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a totally crazy idea to take a night off.

Besides, Shadowmoth’s akumatizations had slowed down considerably in the past few months, and he rarely ever sent out two akumas in one day. The battle that she and Chat had fought that morning was brutal, but they’d come out victorious against HoneyBadger. Still, the fight had left her exhausted and wound up. Shadowmoth was planning something, she was sure of it. She just couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what it was.

Ladybug was stressed.

Add to that, the fact that end-of-term exams were starting up next week and she’d not had nearly enough time during dead week to actually cram. Something about black butterflies and cranky kwamis and a cheeky cat (who, in recent weeks, had been considerably less cheeky.) Not to mention, she had been receiving an awful lot of memes, seemingly without preamble, from Paris’ favorite male model. Nino thought it was hilarious. Alya thought it was suspicious. Marinette thought it was confusing.

Marinette was stressed.

All of it was stressful.

Alya knew when her best friend was stressed. She could usually gauge the amount of Marinette’s exasperation by the frequency with which her bangs went flying from her face, propelled by a huff and a heavy sigh. Right now, Marinette’s bangs were a mess.

“Okay, girl. You need a night off.”

“What? No, I’m fine! Really! Plus, I can’t really afford to take a night off right now, Alya… I don’t know what Shadowmoth ha—”

“Yeah, no. I’m stopping you right there. For the next twenty-four hours, this space is a Ladybug-talk free zone,” she gestured vaguely around her bedroom, which was scattered with printouts and pictures that Marinette had brought over to work on nailing down Hawkmoth’s possible location using Alya’s beloved akuma-map. “I know, I know. It pains me more than it pains you, truly. But I’m doing this for you. Tonight: you, me, drinks, distractions. You are taking a night off.”

“But Alya! What if—”

“Hush, you know that’s incredibly unlikely. And, in the event of this IF you are so set on, you know that cat boy and I will have your back. Even drunk ladybugs can purify akumas when they have the clawed crusaders on their side.”

“I can’t believe you gave in to his silly nickname.”

“It is a badass nickname and you are just jealous that we bonded.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m annoyed.”

“Mhmm… keep telling yourself that, girl. Now, back to the matter at hand: what kind of drunk do you want to get tonight? Classy or trashy? I still have that peach stuff from last month, but if we are thinking classy I might need to call in the reserves to get us some decent wine.”

“You won’t need to call in anybody, Al, because I am definitely not getting drunk tonight.”

“Night off, Marinette. Drunkenness is a prerequisite.”

“Can’t we just watch movies or something? I really don’t know if that’s too good of an idea…”

“Girl, we watch movies every night. This is a night off. Don’t think I don’t see you stressing all throughout movie night every week, anyway. You need to take your mind off Ladybug,” she gestured at the mess that had consumed her bedroom. “And get your mind back on Marinette. Superhero or no, you’re still a teenage girl who is supposed to be enjoying the last few months of college.”

Marinette pouted.

“Stop pouting. You know you deserve to have normal girl fun.”

“But Alya I—”

“No buts.” An unnervingly devious look crossed Alya’s face. “Unless it is your butt in that pair of skinny jeans that you and I both know you-know-who loves. Boys will be here in twenty. Get to it, girl.”

Marinette just gaped at her. She didn’t even notice that Alya had grabbed her phone, but alas, there was the tell-tale ping.

Alya Cesaire → Akuma class OGs chat

Alya: anyone down for a little last minute get together—my door is open and my bar is stocked

Nino: HELL YEAH babe!

NL: got a new mix i’ve been meaning to show you… so entertainments on me fam!

Alix: This thing got an itinerary or just drunkenness for drunkenness sake?

Alya: the latter, natch.

Alix: Sick! Count me in.

Kim: same!

Rose: Do you need us to bring anything?

Alya: anything you feel like sharing

Alya: otherwise, just yourselves!

Alya: Agreste~you better bring us some of that expensive shit that i know your pops keeps somewhere in that castle of yours

Alya: no fancy wine, no admittance

Alya: the rest of you peasants just bring wtvr

Adrien: uhhhhhhhhhh

Adrien: ALYA

Adrien: dang it! You know I feel obligated to steal wine from my dad’s cellar now

Adrien: do you know how scary my dad is!!!??

Nino: DUDEEEE

Nino: DO IT you wont!

Adrien: shuddup Nino

Marinette: Adrien you totally don’t have to! Alya is just being **extra** Alya today

Alya: i plan a night off for this girl

Alya: and this is the thanks i get??????

Alya: can ya’ll believe this?

Alya: ridiculous

Zoe: UTTERLY RIDICULOUS

Adrien: utterly ridic

Adrien: dangit

Zoe: lol first! sorry adrien

Marinette: ugh ty I guess Als xxxxx

Alya: awe she DOES care, youre welcome babe!

Alya: so sunshine… about that wine?

Adrien: yeah yeah yeah

Adrien: use my people pleasing against me why dontcha

Alya: gladly <3

“Alya, stop bullying Adrien.”

“No way, girl. Giving that boy a task is the only way to ensure he shows up. Speaking of which… butt, jeans, go, now!”

The doorbell rang. Nino had perfected the quickest route to Alya’s house from every part of Paris years ago. Yes, he was whipped; and yes, he was proud of it.

“ALYA! I have to clean all of this up and I have to go home to get those jeans that you’re so dead set on and…”

“No you don’t. Kaalki?”

“Right here, Ms. Rouge.”

“YOU USED VOYAGE TO BRING ME JEANS?”

“No way girl! Don’t be silly. Kaalki and Roaar just volunteered to be my errand kwamis.”

“You guys do realize that I am the guardian, right?”

“Of course, that’s why we worked so hard to get everything that you need for tonight.”

“I—you… wait is this my good bra? How did you—”

“Us kwamis pay attention, Marinette.” Tikki cuddled up to her cheek.

“Et tu, Tikki?”

The ladybug kwami just giggled and made her way to the pile of papers scattered across Alya’s bed, starting to organize them back into neat stacks.

“Night. Off.” Alya punctuated each word with a shove and a smack on the bum, directing Marinette toward the bathroom and shutting her in to get ready while she got the door for Nino.

#foxford just casually drops an entire dang chapter of a fic for your ffwf enjoyment #oops #miraculous ladybug #foxford writes #ml #ml season four #aged up adrienette #ffwf #ffwtuesday #thanks for asking!!#<3 #foxford answers #thatcroissantgurl #a moment of silence for my wip graveyard #cw: mentions of drunkenness #(they are old enough in france okay)

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

I Trust You.

Marko (The Lost Boys) x Chiraptophobic!reader

Warnings: very vague mention of abuse, but they do not apply to the reader necessarily.

Context: The reader suffers from chiraptophobia (the fear of physical human contact/touch) and has somehow found themself in a friendship with Marko, who has somehow managed to understand how to not constantly need to touch his friend to show affection, until they take a ride on the Ferris wheel.

A/N: This was interesting to write, so j hope it's turned out alright. I guess I took a little inspiration from Death Stranding's Sam, but I thought it would be fun to do which it was. I hope it's enjoyable!😊💛

Masterlist

It took Marko weeks to finally figure out why I always shied away from his advances, why I'd stared uncomfortably at his offered hand until he withdrew it when he'd tried to shake mine in greeting, why I always wore gloves even in the suffocatingly hot summer air (despite him doing the same), and why I wouldn't go near people I don't know personally, often doing my hardest to steer clear of others in general. Rather than ask, he tried to work it out for himself, observing my behaviour and mannerisms for hours on end, though he still couldn't get what was up with my actions. He'd had to ask for some help from the others, though only David and Dwayne could offer any plausible reasons as to why: maybe I'd been abused in my past and was now averse to unfamiliar human contact, or maybe I was a germophobe. When the young vampire had asked me about both, I'd quickly denied them, thinking that it is unlikely he'd understand the real reason for my odd behaviour. It was only when he saw another person try to shake my hand that he finally noticed the emotion passing through my eyes at the prospect, at which point it all clicked into place. I was afraid of the contact.

Explaining to him what chiraptophobia is was surprisingly easy, though he was a little disappointed by this fact, being a very touch-driven person when around others, even when not in a relationship, though he did manage to take it in his stride, taking time to inform the boys of this as well, in case one of them accidentally made me uncomfortable. He'd nearly ripped Paul's head off when the taller vampire tried to wrap his arm around my shoulders, only letting up when I told him it was alright, that there was no harm done, despite how uneasy I felt afterwards. Since then, Marko has become almost like a bodyguard for me, making sure no one ever comes into my personal space, all while keeping his distance, too, respecting my limits.

We became fast friends, so much so that he eventually told me his secret, revealing his true self to me on one of the nights we chose to hang out together, alone, on the beach, a night I'd never forget. Naturally, I'd been shaken by this revelation, but soon grew used to the idea, knowing that my friend would never hurt me, not intentionally. After a few months, I finally felt comfortable enough to let him touch my gloved hand, though it still made me feel a little uneasy, the sensation of another person's fingers on mine unfamiliar and disturbing to me, but it made the vampire unbelievably happy, a bright smile plastering itself across his face for the rest of the night. He tells me he had to fight off the urge to hug me, for which I'm very grateful - touching a covered hand is very different to being enveloped in an embrace. Since then, he's taken any chance he can get to hold or touch my hand, always beaming like a beacon when he does so, my discomfort in the contact fading a little over time, though I'd soon found that it was only with the curly haired blonde that my body reacted like this, having asked Dwayne to try at some point, to see if it improved overall. Having come up negative in this test, I gave contact one last try with David, who never seems to take off his gloves, only to find that his touch made me uneasy as much as Dwayne's had, despite the two layers of cloth between our respective fingertips. The memory still sets me on edge, though I am well aware it has nothing to do with either David or Dwayne, rather my own mentality.

A shiver goes up my spine as I feel a hand slip into mine, though I quickly recognise the young vampire stepping in beside me, my stance relaxing again when my body realises whose touch it is, though my arm still remains a little tense, out of habit. Reassuringly, Marko swipes a thumb over the back of my glove, glad that I haven't rejected the contact yet, meaning I'm doing better than normal.

"Hey Stranger." He greets, grinning widely at me.

"Hey Blondie." I reply, smiling back at him in return, before casting a quick glance around for the others, "What'd you do with the other three?"

"They're around. Not sure where." The young vampire shrugs, dismissing the question quickly, "How was your day?"

"Not too bad. I didn't get much work done though, I was too preoccupied."

"Preoccupied? With what?" Marko inquires, raising an eyebrow at me in confusion, though his lips are still quirked up into an amused curve.

"That's for me to know, and for you to figure out." I chuckle, tapping the side of my nose secretively.

"Challenge accepted." He smirks, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

I smile at him as we walk, knowing he'll figure it out eventually, the answer being a little closer to home than he thinks.

"Anyway, how'd you sleep?" I question him, eyeing the Ferris wheel off to the side of the Boardwalk.

"Better than usual, actually."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Paul didn't snore so much for once, and David wasn't muttering in his sleep either, so it was pretty quiet, altogether." He explains, smiling when I laugh at the mention of David.

"Wait, David talks in his sleep?"

"Yeah, but you can't tell anyone! And especially don't tell him that I told you, or I'll have my ass kicked to the moon and back." Marko grins, biting his thumb as if nervous, though I'm aware that this is one of his signature mannerisms.

"That's a lot of ass-kicking. Probably quite impressive to watch. " I muse, noticing his arm lift slightly, as if to give me a playful slap on the arm, as he normally would've done with someone else, only to briefly squeeze my hand instead, shaking his head in mock exasperation. I grin at him, before turning my gaze back towards the Ferris wheel, admiring the glittering lights in the black night sky, wondering what the view is like up there.

"Wanna take a ride?" Marko interrupts my thoughts, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Huh?" I blurt out, not having heard his question, quickly snapping my eyes back to his.

"Do you wanna go on the wheel with me?" He repeats, gesturing with a nod of the head to the great circular structure a little way away.

"I would love to, but I don't have any money on me tonight. I forgot my change." I say, somewhat remorsefully, using my free hand to pat my pockets to check for any loose coins, though I'm well aware I have none, having spent it all on food earlier in the evening.

"Who said anything about you paying? Come on, it'll be fun!" The blonde vampire promises, pulling me into the crowd, which parts around us thanks to his reputation (and choice of company), meaning no one comes into touching distance. At one point, my arm brushes past some surfer's bare bicep, which sends uncomfortable shivers and goosebumps through my body, the bitter, irrational fear that comes with it soon biting at the back of my mind, my pulse picking up slightly in response, my muscles turning rigid under my clothes. Marko notices this, briefly stopping to make sure I'm ok, before turning to memorize the surfer's face, most likely intending to take it up with him later, before we continue on, swiftly reaching the shortening queue for the Ferris wheel. Beside me, Marko fidgets and shifts in place, clearly eager to get on the rotating structure, his thumb between his teeth as usual, doe eyes focused on the ticket booth.

"Calm down, Blondie. The wheel isn't going anywhere." I laugh, watching the people around us as they amble to and fro, inching out of the way as a group of made-up girls push past, wincing as I brush against Marko, only to feel surprised when I don't feel the usual discomfort rising up in me from the contact, setting a train of thought into motion. I barely notice as the queue diminishes, only really returning to the present when we reach the booth, at which point Marko buys two tickets and leads me into one of the seats. An attendant comes over to help us secure ourselves, but Marko quickly stares him down, doing the job himself with efficiency.

Not too long after, we've reached a decent way off from the ground, our feet swinging gently in the air as we watch the Boardwalk from above, grinning and joking with each other as we take it in turns pointing out random individuals, making comments about them until the other laughs. At one point, the young vampire manages to spot David, Dwayne and Paul, making some sort of remark about how the leader's hair "looks like a pineapple from the top", before comparing the latter's to a mop. I do my best to hold back my laughter, but it only results in me nearly choking as he starts pointing out more and more likenesses between his friends and everyday objects, tears threatening to spill as I struggle to contain myself. It is only in this moment, that I realise one thing, but it takes me a couple more minutes to act on the thought that has sprung to mind.

Slowly, I pull off my left glove, teasing each finger out of their designated space with a deliberate hesitation, wriggling them a bit once I've exposed them to the air, enjoying the sensation of the light breeze around my heated digits. Marko makes a point of ignoring this, turning his gaze up to the star-strewn sky instead, only to snap his eyes back to mine when he feels a single finger touch the skin of his hand. Gingerly, I trace it over his knuckle, expecting to feel a rush of discomfort, my movements careful and calculated, knowing this is the first time in years that I've had deliberate contact with another person's skin. From my fingertip, it feels as if an electric shock has travelled through me, butterflies suddenly appearing in my stomach. Biting my lip when nothing bad happens, I continue this movement with the rest of my fingers, cautiously slipping my hand into his, enjoying the feeling of his icy cold palm against my warmed one, my eyes finding his shocked ones as our fingers intertwine. In them, I find a tonne of questioning, though he makes no move to actually ask, instead remaining quiet, carefully tightening his grip around my hand as he tries his best to feel as much of my soft skin as he can, the calluses from the handlebars of his bike rubbing slightly.

"What does this mean?" He eventually queries, elated that he can finally hold my hand without a glove being in the way.

"It means that I trust you. I've had no reaction to your contact, and I think it's because I enjoy being with you, and also because you've increased my confidence levels a lot since we first met. I've been trying to figure out why I'm ok with you touching me and no one else all day, which is why I was too preoccupied to work, but I finally worked it out." I inform him, telling him part of the truth - in reality, my trust goes a lot further than wanting a platonic friendship.

Marko is quiet for a moment, as if not quite understanding what I've told him.

"You trust me?" His voice is laced with disbelief, eyes fixing on mine again.

"I do."

Eyes widening again, he smiles, his other hand coming up, as if to try and wrap me in a hug, but the awkward positioning of the barrier, as well as the reminder of my usual discomfort, stop him in his tracks, his hand tightening around mine instead .

"I'm really glad you feel that way, (Y/n). Not many people do." He chuckles, referring to the naturally predatory air he gives off, being a vampire and all, still surprised that I let him touch me.

"I feel safe around you because I know you're my friend, but not many people can have the same claim." I point out, watching the view a little, enjoying the sight of the many glittering lights sprawled out before me, admiring the tiny orange specks of fires on the beach, as well as the rapidly moving headlights of a train passing through the outskirts of Santa Carla, most likely heading out towards the Bridge.

"Fair point." Marko agrees, still staring at our joined hands, which he continues to do until we reach the bottom of the wheel again, at which point he has to let go in order to remove the barrier from our laps. As soon as we're back on the Boardwalk, however, I slip my hand back into his, a small feeling of warmth welling up in me as I see the bright smile splitting his face, clearly happy that I've willingly made contact with him again.

A whistle behind us draws our attention, the sound belonging to a grinning Paul, who approaches us, along with David and Dwayne, who are both smiling at the sight of us, the latter more so than the former, though both seem glad to see their friend happy. As they come closer, I make eye contact with Dwayne, who lifts an eyebrow in questioning, a smirk making its way onto his face when I silently give him a nod, knowing he understands what it means.

I've fallen hard for the blonde vampire who's helped me get over my fear.

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#marko(the lost boys)#santa carla #star(the lost boys)#alex winter

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honeyoongiah · 4 years ago

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Most beautiful coincidence

Pairings: Yoongi x Elly (reader)

Genre: Bookworm! Yoongi AU, fluff

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none!

Summary: Yoongi spent most of his time in the universities library with his nose in some books to escape from reality. At least until Elly decided to sit on the other side of the shelf and showed him that love stories don't just exist in books.

A/N: another Oneshot that has a special place in my heart. I hope you'll feel the warmth that I felt during the writing process.

It was a surprisingly hot november day as Elly walked down the hallways of her college. Packed with countless books, she made her way to the library to learn how she always did for exams.

The room was cold because the air conditioner tried its best to fight the heat, so she quickly started to shiver in her top and cursed the long summer.

"Isn't it supposed to be a little colder outside?", she mumbled to herself while walking through the library searching for that one book she knew she'd need. Everyone was silent so she tried to be as well, but apparently someone on the other side of the shelf noticed her.

"Global warming."

It was the voice of a boy, but she couldn't see him through the books. He sounded a little annoyed but maybe that was just his normal tone, she wouldn't know.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't want to disturb you.", she said in worry. Most of the people here got really mad for being interrupted and she understood. This was a place of silence to study, but she couldn't control her mumbling sometimes.

The voice buzzed something that sounded like "it's okay" and Elly started to relax again. Just as she looked for a table to sit on, she realized that she was a little too late with that. Every single chair was already taken and she ran her fingers through her hair.

What should she do now?

Well, obviously there were people sitting on the ground in between the shelfs just as this mysterious boy she couldn't see. "Hey uhm, sorry for bothering you again but would you mind if I sit here? The library is full."

"No.", he answered shortly before there was silence again. "Thank you.", Elly answered and smiled friendly until she realized he wouldn't see it.

She had to admit it was somehow calming to know that there was someone right next to her, even if they weren't talking and didn't even know each other.

Sitting down and taking some notes, she didn't realize how time flew by.

"Ohh god I gotta go or I'll miss my lecture.", she talked to herself again and got up, packing her things in a rush.

"Don't run with books in your hand, though. It'll be dangerous for them... and for you too.", the boy answered again, sounding a little amused by his own comment.

"I won't be a threat to the books, I promise. I don't know if I can say the same about me, though.", Elly chuckled. She didn't feel right to just go without saying anything. "So uhm... Goodbye."

"Bye."

With that said she began to rush, but without running, so she wouldn't miss informations that were relevant to her exam.

____

Just a day went by and she had to visit the library again. Without really thinking about it she ended up in the same spot she was yesterday. It had something calming not to sit together with all that stressed and desperate students.

Elly sat down again and leaned her back against the shelf made of wood. She was curious now. Was she alone, or did he happen to be here too?

"Mysterious boy from yesterday? Are you here?"

First there was silence and she already thought that he wasn't here, until she heard a dark chuckle from the other side. "Mysterious boy, huh."

"Oh hello, you're actually here again."

"Well, actually this is my favorite spot since I first entered this college. So I'm rather surprised of you being here again.", he explained and Ellys eyes grew big. "Oh I didn't intend to steal it from you, I'm sorry."

"You didn't. You're on the other side of the shelf."

"Well that's true."

The silence broke over them again, although she began to like talking to him. It had something carefree and noncommittal. So unlike what she felt at the university. He cleared his throat and seemed to be focussed again to what Elly couldn't see from here. Again many minutes passed before he was the one breaking the silence for the first time. "Are you doing well? The subject should be particularly difficult this semester."

Elly sighed and when he heard that, he immediately laughed. "Okay, I have my answer."

"No joke, it's terrible. But I can do it. Thanks for asking."

Suddenly she felt an object pressed against her back, but without hurting her. Amazed, she looked at the book the boy had handed her through the shelf. His hand was thin, his fingers long and also narrow and defined by bones and veins. "Here, that helped me a lot last year."

Fleetingly, she flipped through it and realized immediately how useful it would be for her. "Oh my god, thank you, that will help!"

"My pleasure."

"By the way, my name is Elly. You said the book really helped you last year, so you're a year above me?" For a few seconds she had to wait for an answer and thought he hadn't heard her or didn't want to talk, but then she heard him. "My name is Min Yoongi and yes, I am one year ahead of you."

Elly gave a low ah and nodded her head. "I have never heard of you, although I know so many students here." A few students tried to pass her, but with so many books in the way it was a lot harder. Elly looked at them with an apologetic look. "That doesn't surprise me. I don't even think my lecturer knows that I exist. At least they can't connect my name with a face. I don't go to many lectures, because I rather teach everything myself and spend my time here."

"It's impressive that you can teach yourself.", she marveled, shuddering just at the thought of trying. Sure, she was good at learning on her own but it helped immensely if someone explained it to her. "I just don't like being around People much, I prefer the company of books of all kinds."

"You just weren't around the right People then, Yoongi.", she spoke her thoughts out loud and hoped she didn't cross a line. "You're probably right but I don't even try anymore."

"That's sad though. You might miss someone very special."

The usual silence greeted them again as Yoongi thought about her words.

He really didn't have much emotional connections since he was young, he early began to bury his nose in books he found interesting. The genre didn't really matter to him as long as it had a happy ending.

Yoongi knew that sounded cheesy but he just didn't feel right when stories ended with heartbreak or other pain. He liked to feel that comfortable warmth of satisfaction when everything turned out to be okay.

It was so far from reality, maybe that was what kept him reading all day. He found the real world terrible, not knowing if there will be a happy end for anyone and not being able to skip through the bad parts if he'd like to.

Books never hurt your feelings or leave you behind.

Books were so much more comforting than dealing with his actual life and the people around him. It was definitely way more fun.

"I have to go now.", he told her and got up from the ground. Elly heard the rustling noises next to her and tried to see him through the mass of books next to her, but besides his black pants she didn't see much.

"Okay Yoongi. I hope we'll talk tomorrow?", she asked casually which made him froze in his movements. Why would she want to talk to him again? "Sure. I'll be here.", he answered though, a light smile gracing his face.

_____

A few weeks passed by and Elly couldn't imagine not being in the library every day anymore. She started talking to Yoongi in her free time on the same spot as the day before. And they talked about everything.

The topic didn't really matter, they always managed to find something to say. Either they discussed something and shared their opinions, which were very often the same, or they opened up about personal issues and feelings.

He opened up about his past and why he became so distant, the whole issue with his parents and how they never understood him the way he needed.

Yoongi never did that before. But it felt right to finally do and when he heard Elly saying that this wasn't his fault he knew that he needed to hear that at least once.

Elly talked about her past broken friendships and relationships who hurt her deeply and made her insecure. She told him that she often felt she wasn't enough and he reassured that this feeling wasn't valid.

To him she was enough.

He held her hand through the shelf when he heard her snuffling and brushed his thumb over her skin to calm her a little.

Sometimes they just enjoyed knowing the other one was right beside them when they had tough days or were feeling like a more silent day. They didn't need to talk.

Slowly they became really close although they still didn't know how the other one looked like. It didn't matter to them, they found it funny and special.

Even her grades got better because he always helped her when she needed someone to explain it again. He was calm, patient and didn't set her under any pressure. She felt comfortable telling him when she had a problem.

"Hey Yoongs, I'm back.", she greeted him and sat down on her favorite place in this university. Maybe even in general. "Hey Elly, I've missed you."

"I missed you too. How was your day?", she asked and placed her hand in the shelf which he immediately took into his. That was a new habit that neither of them knew how it began but they enjoyed it.

"It was fine. I took a look on the new curriculum for my semester and learned a few things in advance. Then I started a new book and read it until you came. What about you?"

"You're incredible. How do you teach yourself the whole fucking curriculum? I'll never understand. Can I have your brain please?", she grumbled but still with admiration for him. "You're incredibly intelligent Elly. Don't put yourself down so much." - "T-thank you."

He squeezed her hand and chuckled when he noticed that she was flustered. "It's the truth. I really think you are amazing in any way possible but you need to see it yourself."

"You're so kind. So supportive and caring. I think you are amazing too Yoongi.", she answered while smiling and stared out of the window.

"Would you mind coming over to the other side and sit next to me?", Yoongi asked and took her by surprise. It wasn't that she didn't want to, but that somehow made her nervous. "How come so suddenly?"

"I don't know... I just feel like it. You don't have to though."

"N-no I want to! Wait I'll come.", she quickly said and let go of him to stand up, which made her feel incomplete for a moment. With these words Yoongi felt nervous now too.

He would look the person who knows him best now, with his good sides but all his flaws too, in the eyes for the first time.

Elly was thinking about the same things too. It was somehow scary, but in a good way. She was curious how he looked like, but she was insecure about showing herself. Will he think I'm pretty? Why does that matter to me?

Slowly, but not too slowly for Yoongi to notice how unsure she was, she walked around the shelf that separated them for the past months now and immediately met two dark brown eyes looking at her.

She smiled shyly and sat down next to him.

Yoongi was too overwhelmed to really hide his staring. He admired every inch of her, trying to imprint the details of her face in his mind. She truly was beautiful to him.

He gently stroked a wisp of hair behind her ear and made her blush. Without him noticing she was admiring him too. His blonde hair she'd really like to touch, his brown eyes which sent out warmth and looked so vulnerable and his soft looking red lips.

"So... uhm what are you reading at the moment?", she tried to break the tension between the two, even though it felt good having his eyes on her. "Oh, I'm reading a novel about- wait do you really want to know?" - "You like the book don't you? So yes I do want to know."

His lips parted while he thought about where to start. He took the book in his hands and let his fingertips run over the cover. "Well, it's about a young detective who tries to solve a murder in the city he lives in, near his own home. He consults a lot of people and there is where he meets this woman for the first time."

Elly listened to him with honest interest and Yoongi didn't feel so good in years. He wasn't used to people caring about what he was reading, but she did. "He starts to develop feelings, but she's the prime suspect in his case. Although he really wants to believe her that she is innocent, everything speaks against her. So he's in a big discrepance."

While he continues talking about how they try to find the real murderer and that Yoongi still isn't sure if she is innocent but hopes for it because he wants a happy end, Elly noticed the sparkle in his eyes.

She could see how comfortable and happy he was feeling right now and she couldn't suppress a loving smile. "And then he- wait why are you smiling?", he interrupted himself and looked at her confused.

"You just look so happy. It makes me smile.", she blurred out and felt shy about it right away. "I uhm... yes I am. I enjoy spending time with you."

Elly didn't know how much time passed while she looked into his eyes, she could drown in them. Only his voice brought her back. "Would you like to spend time with me outside of this library?"

"Y-yes! Of course. I know a better library only 20 minutes away from here.", she teased him and he laughed. It took every nervousness away. "I'm serious Elly. I don't know much about these things, but I know that I want to spend more time with you. Would you like to go eat something after lecture today?"

He found her so cute with red cheeks, it suited her overall cuteness he thought. "Yes Yoongi, I'd love to."

Her words made him weak, he never experienced something like this before. Yoongi only read about it in books.

Was it really his turn this time? Is it possible that he could be as happy as the characters in his books? Was he really blessed to experience something like that too?

These thoughts didn't leave him when they both left the university for today. Yoongi suggested to go to one of her favorite restaurants if she has one, since he didn't really go out much.

Quickly they figured they didn't want to sit inside though, but just get something and go to a place Yoongi told her about a few times. It was a single bench in the middle of nowhere but with a beautiful view of the city.

"You said you like reading here if you're not in the library, right?", Elly asked when in between her bites. "Yes. It's so calming and silent here. It's my special place."

Elly put her box down and parted her lips, just like she wanted to say something, but remained silent. "What did you want to say?", Yoongi asked because of course he noticed. He looked only at her, even though his favorite view was right in front of him.

"It's nothing. I'm embarrassed to say it.", she admitted and buried her face in her hands. Yoongi was sure he never saw something so pure. "It's okay, you don't have to be ashamed of anything. Just tell me.", he said and came a little closer.

He took one of her hands and held her just as he did many times while they were hanging out in the library. Both thought they were fitting into each other perfectly. "I think you made the library to my own special place, Yoongi."

If she was a book, Yoongi would read her again and again. He thought she was so perfect, every little bit of her. She was that type of girl people were writing books about he enjoyed and he never thought they existed in reality.

But it seemed like he found her and therefore his own story.

"I'm glad I started talking to you out of the sudden and got to know you. You are the most beautiful coincidence of my life.", he confessed and stroked her cheek with this thumb.

She smiled at his words, her heart beating so fast when he leaned over with half closed eyes and his nose brushing against hers. "Can I kiss you now?", he whispered and she felt his breath on her skin.

An almost not audible "yes" left her mouth and he gently lay his lips on hers. He felt so soft against her, she could feel how careful and loving he was treating her.

After separating again he kissed her nose and made her chuckle before saying: "I really like you, Elly."

#bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts oneshots #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #bookworm yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #BANGTANARMYNET

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years ago

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The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

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