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ixcaliber · 2 years

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Top Ten Video Games of December 2022

I played too many video games this month and I’m also spending time making a full year Top Fifteen so here’s just the ten best/most interesting games of this month instead of a full breakdown of all fiftysomething

10. Baobab’s Mausoleum Episode 1: Ovnifagos Don’t Eat Flamingos

Not sure how to describe this one honestly. It’s about an eggplant FBI agent called Watracio Walpurgis who ends up stranded in a weird town in the middle of nowhere and nobody will let him use a phone and then things just get weirder and weirder from there. It has this wild duality where parts of it are like silly references and in jokes and then part of it does have a sort of eerie strange vibe.

And like the pacing is so wild, one chapter is an entire dungeon to navigate (for some fucking reason??) and like other chapters are just a single room, one single interaction or puzzle.

It’s constantly throwing something new at you, a new location, a new protagonist, a new perspective, whatever the hell an ovnifago is, cheat codes that don’t do anything, a character who claims you can buy hints from him at his church but you never have the opportunity he’s not really a feature of the video game. This is a fucking weird experience and I kind of enjoyed it for the most part.

9. NUTS

Nuts is a game where you’re helping to carry out an environmental survey. You have a caravan and recording equipment and your task is to record the squirrels in the area and, night by night follow them to figure out where their food stashes or nests or whatever are. It’s a nice and fairly laid back game, though it does sometimes mix things up and finds ways to escalate as you continue through the game.

It’s a fun setup and the squirrels are cute. The game overall has a cozy pastel aesthetic, with each area you go to being a different shade. It’s not a long or too difficult game. There were occasions where I had to really painstakingly follow the squirrels trails as the cameras I was putting a little ahead of where they had last been seen weren’t getting anything at all and they were really throwing off my expectations. However sometimes you can, if you look around hard enough, make an educated guess where the squirrels are going to be heading.

Overall it’s fun, nice and chill with a surprisingly cathartic ending.

8. Endhall

Endhall is a super short and difficult tactical position based rpg roguelike. I saw a review that used the phrase position based I don’t know if I’m using it correctly. Like an xcom or um I don’t have a lot of points of reference for this kind of game actually.

It has a very simple plot about an AI given life and knowledge and instructed to proceed down the Endhall for its freedom. After each little area you beat you can select a new ability from a random selection of four or five. Some are movement abilities some are damaging abilities. It’s a good idea to have a mix of both.

The joy of the game is in the balance between careful playing and the necessity to keep moving as each turn you lose one unit of health irrespective of anything that an enemy does to you. But every time you destroy an enemy you regain some health. It stops you from playing too defensively and it’s finding that right rhythm or set of abilities to get you through that it really shines.

7. Time On Frog Island

This is a cute little game where you shipwreck on a little island mostly inhabited by humanoid frogs (and one axolotl I think). Your goal is to repair your ship which you do by doing little tasks and helping the people of the island. It’s cute and fun. I ran into four seperate major bugs when I was playing through. One of them was bad enough that I had to restart the entire game.

It does the thing where there isn’t really any written dialogue in the game. Everything is communicated in pictures and like when any game tries to do this it’s kind of hit and miss. Sometimes you can parse it just fine, other times I had next to no idea what they wanted. This lack of clarity exacerbated one of the bugs that I had where a frog wasn’t accepting the item that he wanted and i assumed I must have had the wrong item.

Kind of a shame that it isn’t longer, as there’s like upgrades you can make if you’re prepared to experiment with some stuff, but the game doesn’t feel dense enough that you’d ever need to. The main objectives are so prominent and achievable that you’re likely to have finished the game before it occurs to you to experiment with fishing and brewing potions.

Aside from my bad experience with the bugs this is a good game. It’s cute, it’s nice to help all the different frogs and to solve the various problems. There’s a good range of things to do and yeah it’s a good time.

6. Franken RPG

This is a short comedy RPG where you control a hero with only one combat option; attack. This essentially does mean that every fight you go into is predecided from the outset. The game uses this sometimes as a puzzle mechanic (sort of), overall as a strict control of the narrative. It feels very directed when you know you can’t miss more than a couple of the fights or you won’t be correctly levelled to defeat the next big combat.

This isn’t a bad thing. The draw of this game is the comedy of it and on that it delivers. The places you go to, the weirdos that you encounter and sometimes have to fight. They are fun and memorable and somehow (i know exactly) at some point (i know exactly when) i actually started to be invested in the very generic narrative that unfolds in this game and when the music kicks in in the final battle it’s oddly triumphant and I’m actually feeling the emotion of the scene despite the ridiculousness of everything so far.

And then the ending happens and all of the ridiculousness so far is eclipsed by this game’s absolutely buckwild ending. Very good game. Absolutely worth the half an hour to an hour it takes to experience it.

5. Vignettes

Vignettes is a little puzzle game with a striking art style. It’s a little game about manipulating objects; turning them so that they seamlessly become a different object and repeating the process. It’s a game about experimentation, about solving little puzzles that I can’t even begin to describe how they work. Partially because I think the game is sort of about learning these systems and partially because if I start trying to talk about it in any more depth this post becomes pretty much incomprehensible.

It’s neat though. A chill experience with some nice aesthetics and neat little puzzles to solve.

4. Jam and the Mystery of the Mysteriously Spooky Mansion

This isn’t a whodunnit or even a howdunnit this is a point and click adventure game where the mystery is what they dun in the first place. You’re Jam, a boy adventurer and you just thwarted the schemes of your nemesis in this creepy run down manor, only fuck maybe you acted a little impulsively, what was he even trying to do this time anyway. Search the house, solve puzzles, find crucial pieces of evidence and when you’re ready you can present any combination of two pieces of evidence and watch an ending unfold where Jam neatly explains how these are vital clues and what the evil plan was all along.

It’s chaotic and a lot of fun.

3. A Castle Full of Cats

Earlier in the month I played A Building Full of Cats. A little hidden object game where you explore five or six floors of a building and have to find all the hidden cats in each floor. I was expecting pretty much the same experience from this, but instead its an escalation in almost every way.

The narrative is that this castle has come under a terrible curse and all the many cats that live here have been transformed into monstrous versions of themselves. Still, you know, cute though. Just cute in a these cats are all dressed for halloween kind of way. When you find the cat and click on it you are curing their curse and they transform back to normal. The more cats you uncurse the more of the castle’s main rooms open to you, but there are side rooms and secret passages you can find, side missions you can complete for some of the other uncursed cats still present in the castle and eventually your efforts will lead you to a final boss fight. Yes in the hidden object cat game.

It’s cribbing pretty hard from Castlevania for references and aesthetic and the one thing that would have made this even better is if you somehow unlocked abilities that allowed you to access previously inaccessible areas instead of the number of cats or keys gating mechanics. No I have no idea what that would entail either and its sort of impressive that they got as close to a castlevania game as they did.

2. Luna

Luna has a mode with narration which describes itself as storybook mode and that feels like a pretty good description of the game in general. It’s a narrative about how the moon got its phases and it has a cast of animals known only as The Bird, The Owl etc. Like a little fable or a bedtime story or something, with beautiful visuals and just a cozy little experience.

The gameplay alternates between segments where you arrange stars into constellations that then represent the kinds of plants and trees and flowers you can place in the game’s other half. These levels present you with a desolate landscape and request that you bring it back to life by decorating it with all kinds of foliage. You can customize their size, their shape (to an extent and not for all plants) and their colour and eventually you’ll awaken the animal you came there to find.

There’s a foxie. One of the levels you go and make a nice home for the foxie and sing a song with the foxie.

This isn’t like a glowing recommendation or anything. I found some of the decoration to be a little superficial and not really have any lasting impact as you never return to any of your decorated areas. Oh and the subtitles were always half off screen and there didn’t seem to be any way to fix this... But the story was nice, the visuals were lovely, and there was a foxie so it was able to make up for those deficiencies in my personal estimation.

1. Serre

A really cute visual novel about an alien and a gardener drinking tea together and being cute and gay. So close to being in my top 15 games of the year. Short, cute, fun, emotionally engaging and I love the design of Oaxa.

Honourable mention to Shadows Over Loathing (which is on my top fifteen of the year so I’ve not included it here to avoid redundancy), Z’s Room, Three Lesbians in a Winter Special, Dungeons & Lesbians, Chico and the Magic Orchards and Wide Ocean Big Jacket and Ruya. Maybe I should have made this list a top fifteen as well. Fuck it too late now.

#ix plays video games

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britishassistant · 3 years

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Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

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It’s The Avengers (03x14)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 14: It’s Not What It Looks Like

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: ehehehehehe

Word Count: my anxiety was through the roof this time. and that too on the thing that I know was not achievable. But noooo my boss just wants results. Well, fuck you and your boss who gave me anxiety. You will know the pain of these tears soon.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The familiar sports car shining in its red shade came to a halt right outside the door for Tony to get out and greet the lone camera covering him. "How's it going fellas?" He seemed comparatively chirpier than the last few days as he whistled his way to the boot of the trunk to take out five boxes of large pizzas along with a whole bag filled with soda and side dishes. "It's pizza party today, my lovely unicorn," he announced to the camera person; mostly because there was no one else in his vicinity.

Tony: *standing next to his car* I have come realise that I have been a bit hard on my team because of the anxiety I've been feeling ever since Y/N disappeared from right in front of me. Like last Monday. *camera switches to the video recording of Last Monday* Tony is seen in the kitchenette making detox juice for himself after a workout. Sam comes and grabs the coffee pot, looking around for a mug to pour himself some. The only mug hanging on the stand is your Brooklyn Nine-Nine themed one. "Well," he mutters to himself, "no one's using this for a while." Just as he finishes the sentence, Tony's hand slips on the juicer switch and the green spill out everywhere in the space, making Sam yell for help. "You are excluded from my will," Tony announces while looking dead into Sam's eyes before pouring the coffee from his pot into the sink and walking away. *back to present* Tony: Pepper says I went overboard but Sam didn't have to say that now did he. *makes a cringe face* Anyways. This is my way of showing them that I have made peace with the situation for now and that I trust our alien friends to get my daughter back to me asap.

Tony walked into the facility to be greeted by dead silence. "Did I miss something?" he wondered out loud for the camera while looking around the lobby and the waiting area. "I am pretty sure we were not supposed to go out anywhere thanks to that stubborn virus." He walked up the elevator to be greeted by Clint coming back from the security room with his self-regulated watch, carrying two glasses of iced Americanos- one of which he offered Tony. "Pizza-" he seemed happy to see the boxes, taking the bag from Tony- "what's the occasion? Are you firing one of us? Is there a budget cut because of the 'Rona? In that case, just know that I spot a person without a mask from miles. And I can end them right there." Tony pressed the button for the lounge and waited for the camera to record his wink and smile till the doors closed to let the other handy camera in the elevator- following Clint- take over. Clint did a survey of the bag and was quite content with the contents. Tony, still with his glasses on, walked his usual walk that displayed well that he owned the place. "No one's getting fired unless they are eating my choco-chip ice cream." "You have set the bar pretty low." "It's pretty much up to the expectations I have from you all."

Clint shrugged and went on to agree with him, walking behind the Iron Man as the elevator dinged. The camera followed Clint and Tony out to film the scene unfolding in the Lounge. Manoeuvring away from their shoulders, the camera caught that deadpan silence in the room filled with nearly every Avenger staring at the screen with the seriousness of defusing a bomb that may go off any time. Peter was hiding under Scott's arm, peeping at the screen through his hands while Scott was biting his nails, nervousness dripping from his forehead. Wanda held Vision's hand while she muttered something under her breath- most probably a chant. Sam seemed to have forgotten he was watering the plants for the water-can was already empty and yet he still went on to pour the contents while his eyes were glued to the screen. Bucky's hands were busy brushing Zuko's fur- while the pupper took this opportunity to lay in his lap and snooze- monotonously, his gaze too stuck on the screen. "Come on, come on. Do it," Steve muttered while on the edge of his seat on the sofa. The camera swivelled back to Clint and Tony- both of whom had confused looks on their faces by now. Both of them turned to the screen in sync to witness what exactly was it that had all of them in such a grim state. And it was something like this.

On the screen was a barely lit space that seemed like it could have been a small closet under somebody's staircase. In that barely lit space, you could be seen from your abdomen up. There you were, panting, sweating, your hair a literal mess, your bra strap dangling out of your tank top's straps. "Again," you panted, wiping the sweat beads from your forehead while positioning your hands on a surface where the camera was seemingly recording you from. And in that same dim light, a movement was discovered behind you. That movement was of the exposed muscles and skin that the viewers had never seen in their daily life. Well, neither had they seen that very person pant and sweat like this before as well. Green eyes shined in that bare light, as the familiar face came out from the shadows to apparently hover just above your shoulder. One pale hand was used to remove those clammy hair strands coming in his way before both arms mimicked your position and came to rest on either side of your arms. "Are you sure?" Loki's voice, breathless and heavy, questioned you with sincerity while his body did not budge from behind you. You nodded. "Again." The frame caught you adjusting your hips to position your butt right with his front- something that was not covered by the camera. He towered over you, adjusting to your height while grounded his arms on the surface. "Okay then," he whispered, taking one arm to move your butt a little closer to your frame before going back to anchor himself to the surface, "here we go."

The iced Americanos created a crackle and bang louder than expected- thanks to the already looming silence- when they hit the floor. The pizza box and other snacks? Not so much. Every other person jumped where they were to turn and watch the colours from Tony and Clint's faces drain away by the second, their jaws unhinged, their hearts at a pause and their lungs just no longer working. Steve- the only one in the room to have deciphered what had just gone down in those Dad brains- got up and raised his arms till his chest as of sign of caution. "It's not what you think. Tony, Clint it's not-" The elevator dinged and out came Natasha and Bruce with four feet long bags of Cheetos and popcorn, the former quite excited to rush out into the Lounge. "We found the snacks from the pantry! Did we miss something? Did they put it in yet?" Steve winced just as Bruce blurted out those words. Tony was already heaving audibly, no air going into his lungs as he nearly collapsed on the floor if not for Natasha holding him up like she was used to it. Clint, on the other hand, had 'disgusted' written all over his face, judging every single person in the room before storming out. "OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GAAAAA~" the screams could be heard from outside while the camera zoomed in on Natasha's face- already bored and tired.

Natasha: If they had more than one working brain cell they wouldn't have fought like twelve-year-olds in the middle of an airport and then stopped talking for a whole year. *camera pans in on her face* *faces the camera* And to think they can procreate. .

One Hour Ago Eight Hours Earlier In A Galaxy Far Away One of the camera drones stepped over a stone wall and passed over a dozen guards, buzzing its best to enter the first window it could find. Passing over ogres guarding the small galleries, another drone accompanied the first one down the maze of hallways, parting at the stairway leading down to the dungeons and up to the meeting room. The way to the dungeons was one dark path that only lit up at the very end of the hallway- few lamps burning with constant flickers. The space was divided into walls and covered with iron bars. A few of these cells were empty while others housed creatures who are only spoken about with the name of their shadows. In the last cell was a shadow that seemed similar to that of a human sleeping under the lone ragged excuse of a blanket. If one tried to focus, they could hear light snores coming out of that creature too. The drone came to rest upon one of the iron bars, sending in the live feed to the cameraman behind this whole shebang. The other fly had already found the 'throne room'. The throne- as one could make out with the setting of the hall- was made out of a tree trunk burned till all that was left was an ash-covered dead piece looking up at the sky. The seat was carved right through the middle with one of the ashened branches housing a black adder with red eyes. And in the throne sat the one person no one wanted to see. "Aellae," you mumbled in the most derogatory sense, your eyes wanting to hurt her there and then through the screen in Javier's hand. And lo! Right then the God stepped in the frame, standing in front of the witch with his usual demeanour. Well, that's what it looked like. "Why do you have to bow to her?" You whispered at him a bit viciously. White entered the frame that was recording your end. Looking at the screen he furrowed his brows and wondered how you could tell that. "He stands straight," you stressed, already sensing the question from White, "and right now he is not. And he does not not stand straight for anyone." "I see you have found yourself a fine pair of pets on your galactic travels, my love," you and White hear Aellae from the screen, bringing your attention back to her. "Just a bunch of humans and a kitten to entertain me on my way," he chuckled and shrugged a little, that Asgardian charm resurfacing in his smile. Aellae smirked at him. "On your way to where?" The question had a hint of anger even when she added a wave of curiosity, something that was easy to catch of the one who was listening to layers in her voice. Loki waved his hands in the air. "You know how it is for me. Here and there, always on the move. A nomad exploring the universe." "No more," she announced, her head high, her stare stern, "now you stay with me. You will be my advisor in the day, guiding my army to every corner of this world, with nothing to spare." She got up from her throne to walk an inhumanly seductive gait to reach the God and place her finger under his chin. "And in the night, you shall be my pacifier," she whispered, making your whole face cringe for the camera to zoom into it. "You shall satiate all my bedly desires till I the very. last. drop." Something cracked on the other side, making Javier and White turn in every direction to look at the source of the sound. Lulu too was a bit confused. You were the only person not taking your eyes away from the screen.

You: I swear to God if she was not such a bitch, I would have asked her out. Would have even gone to lengths of being her *makes air quotes* bedfellow if she was not such a fucking bitch?? Javier: *turns the camera to himself with the dazed look on his face* *signs for the camera* I am supportive and all in for this but is now really a good time for her to be questioning her sexuality? When we can literally die for just breathing wrong???

"Now," Aellae snapped everyone back to the screen, "as for those pets of yours, I'll send someone to take care of them. They are just hindrance if nothing more." "Aellae," Loki's honey laden voice was now implying a sternness. "What." "They are not to be given enough importance to be-" Loki sighed and closed his eyes- "taken care of." "All the more fun to watch them die in misery." Her eyes widened with excitement at the thought of murder. "Especially that Midgardian who is living in the illusion of being your friend." Loki's jaw tightened. "If you decide to harm h-them, I will not aid you in your irrational quests, Aellae. Going after those weaklings proves that you are still the reckless stubborn creature that I left you." There wasn't an exclamation of surprise on her face but rather that particular smirk of the devil who has walked its prey right into its trap. "So, she does mean something to you." Loki kept mum. "Guards!" she yelled for the two orcs standing outside, "bring me the head of the woman!" "Aellae, stop," he begged casually. "Enough humour." "And do whatever with the rest of her!" she ordered with her eyes piercing through Loki's soul.

The next thing you know, the last fly drone that got lost on the middle floor somewhere was recording two orcs throwing Loki into a room before shutting the door behind him. His grunts echoed through the room with no windows. All around him were walls coloured in a dusty cream shade, lamps lining up the four walls with one dressing table sitting with one of the four walls, housing heavy chains, the purpose of which Loki did not want to know. He huffed as he stood up, looking at the door before letting his gaze land on those shackles on his wrist that now seemed permanent. The tension on his jaw did not go unnoticed by the tiny roommate before he slammed those bracelets- along with his wrist- into the wall in pure animalistic rage.

Witch's Den- Down the Hall Two orcs stood guard to the entrance coming to the floor via the stairs. One of them seemed to be snoozing with all the pressure sitting on his nose and brows while the other one was trying to drive away this one stubborn fly that kept buzzing around its head. Eventually reaching the threshold of irritation, he followed the fly out towards the stairs, his curved sword being swung into the air to strike the buzzing creature; only to be taken by surprise with a bright source of light. The next thing the fly was recording was the other orc waking up to the clunk of a sword dropping, this one finding gasping and taking an attack position before the camera went dark.

But not for long.

The fly in Loki's room recorded the God catching the sounds outside while he was in the middle of surveying the whole room for an escape route. The grunts and gasps of orcs outside have stopped, making him all the more cautious to the steps that steadily approach the door. He took one of the chains in his hand, with calculated steps, walked towards the door to catch whatever tried to come in next. With the sound of a heavy key twisted inside the keyhole, the wheels turned and the door opened a smidge to let someone in. Without losing even a second, Loki wound the chain around your neck from behind you, nearly choking you. "Not now, dammit!" you choked, trying to free yourself from the hold. "Y/N?" the surprise stirring along with confusion was a new shade on Loki that you would have appreciated any other day. "Wha-what are you doing here?" That God wasn't even able to squeak on realising it was you. The chains came off as fast as they had gone around your neck, giving you room to breathe and widen your eyes in horror. "No! No no no no noooo!!" You ran towards the door as it clunk shut, leaving you to pull at it with all your might to no avail. "The door opens from outside," you groaned with a sob, thumping your head on it with low winces before a tiny realisation hit you hard enough to stop and look back at Loki. "Ow!" He yelled at the hard slap that came for his back, looking at you in simmering confusion. "You could've waited to choke me after we got out, you fucking IDIOT!" The slaps and punches got more vigorous with each word until Loki had to gab your hands with his to stop you from wasting your energy anymore. "And what makes you think coming here was a good idea?" He struggled to keep your writhing form from hurting itself more than him. You were ready to kick him in his shins and you would have absolutely done that if Loki had not shoved you into the wall with him towering over you to restrict any movement of your limbs. The little buzzing drone came to sit over Loki's arm and capture the frame where both of you were flaming with anger and still trying to breathe enough to keep that rage alive. "I'd already told you were on your own," he grunted, his eyes drilling through your soul. "And I'd already told you I am a psychology major. I can see the denial routine from miles away, you stupid blob of six-foot galaxy brain! You think I haven't sacrificed myself to a professor for the sake of my friends?" "...what? Wait. What do mean by sacri-" "Now get off me and find us a way out of here." You pushed him back. Well, at least you thought you did. But he pushed closer to you, shooting emotions of mild surprise in your eyes before you caught yourself slipping. Fortunately, this little drone caught everything in 4K. From the veins popping in Loki's neck to the parted lips and wavering gaze of yours. "This world is not a joke, Y/N. There was a reason you were left behind. And you have done the exact opposite of that which is supposed to keep you alive." It felt as if Loki had to restrain from spilling that anger over the rim. To make that hypothesis true, he punched the wall to dissipate this emotion he did not want to be running him. And there he stood, his head hanging above you in defeat, his eyes closed and his breath wavering. "I was supposed to send you home safe," he was barely able to mutter. The drone focused on your hands coming around his torso, your arms taking as much of his frame in a hug as possible as you softly patted his back and soothed him. Loki's body twitched a little at this new touch, still like a stone before giving in with every wave of your soothing touch. "You're family, idiot. I'm not gonna leave you behind with some crazy bitch that isn't me?" A chuckle resonated through you and then the room. The next moment when you looked at him, he was looking lighter. "Now come on, use your muscles and drill through one of these walls." Raising his good brow, he judged you while tapping his fist casually on the wall. "What exactly do you take me for?" "A cheesy brooder who's all soft inside," you commented without skipping a beat, looking around to find some kind of a loophole in this square room. "Say that outside these walls and watch what this brooder does to you." "Sounds like an invitation," you sang under your breath, tapping the walls. It took a while. A while that was long enough for you to move around the room to come and sit on the lone drawer by the wall, feeling the heat of the room bursting out the sweat in your skin, other than turning your brain into an irritated mush. You groaned while taking off your top and throwing it on the floor. You wanted to cry out loud to blow off some of the unbearable heat but stopped short at the sight of that overcoat coming off. Followed by that black shirt. Muscles. No matter how he moved or what he did, his back lived in that moment to tease you with those muscles. And what was that? Sparkles? No, sweat, glistening in the dim light. Wait, why was it glisten- You looked around and realised the lamps were at their wick's end. "Same," you sighed as you looked back at Loki's back, only to find him turned around to face you. "Oh, Gods!" you jumped down from the drawer with quite the surprise in your eyes. "This is your first time seeing me shirtless?" It almost felt like he was genuinely curious. "What? No! I don't know. That wasn't the-look!" You signalled him to come closer and let your hand hang right above the drawer's top that touched the two corners of the wall. Loki mirrored you and realised it instantly. "That's a cold breeze." He looked at you with pupils expanding wide in that dim lighting. Taking over from there, he tried his best to get a look as to which section of the wall it was coming from. "There's an opening-" he immediately shifted his position to standing parallel to the length of the wall, his hands grounded on the varnished top- "we will have to either pull it-" he tried his best but the structure did not budge- "or push it towards the opening in that section." You got to work as well, standing next to him and giving your end of the small corner a good push that only ended up in failed grunts. "Okay, let's try another way," you inhaled, "I'll push the top, you be the bottom."

The drone was sitting on the drawer now, capturing all those failed attempts from every angle both of you thought possible before you nearly collapsed due to lack of air. "We're are clearly doing something wrong here," Loki huffed, his puffed-up chest, the centre of the camera's frame. You flipped your wet hair to show your tired face in the lone lamp that burned in the room. "There weren't any more of those BDSM chains inside it, were there?" Loki's breathing stopped for a moment. You looked at him for an answer. Both of you moved to open the drawers. The drone captured the disappointment in your own IQ in high definition before watching you both taking them out with nothing but pure spite. "Take a break, I'll try-" "No," you shook your head and wiped the forehead sweat, "let's do it together." Loki wanted you to stop but that you gave him was more than adequate to let anyone know you won't listen right now. "This time you stand behind me and let's use the wall behind as a supp....ort? Wait how is this room looking shorter?" You were looking around in dazed confusion while Loki closed his eyes. "It's not a normal room. Those two walls will keep closing in until..." He didn't have to say more. "Well, then what are we waiting for?" the drop of panic in your high pitched voice was evident as you positioned yourself- putting your palms on the edge. "Come on." Loki came to stand behind you, copying your position, just a bit more charismatically- and with a bit more skin- till he felt your hair come into his mouth. "One, two, three!" This time the push did budge the drawer chest a bit but your strength had been used for that movement of a centimetre. Your breaths almost felt like your lungs were on the verge of crying. "Again," you panted, wiping the sweat beads from your forehead while positioning your hands on a surface where the drone was seemingly recording you from. Loki looked at your back, clearly concerned. This time he used his hand to remove those clammy hair strands coming in his way before both arms mimicked your position and came to rest on either side of your arms. "Are you sure?" Loki's voice, breathless and heavy, questioned you with sincerity while his body did not budge from behind you. You nodded. "Again." The frame caught you adjusting your hips to position your butt right with his front- something that was not covered by the camera. He towered over you, adjusting to your height while grounded his arms on the surface. "Okay then," he whispered, taking one arm to move your butt a little closer to your frame before going back to anchor himself to the surface, "here we go." Both of you had your eyes stuck on the wall with a fiery gaze and an aura that would have burned this place to the ground. His muscles tried to take all that you could not. And just when the grunts were turning into screams, the drawer started to move from its place with a screeching noise. As soon as Loki noticed a decent enough opening in the wall to your and his side, he pushed you and himself in through the opening before the death walls came for your limbs. The drone fly followed. Both of you rolled through what seemed like a tunnel slide through the walls for a minute till that just did not seem to end. It did end though. It ended in a noisy fall of thuds and groans- you on top of him. "You okay?" you winced through your broken voice, not moving a muscle for the fear of breaking something. Also because it was awkward lying over him on your stomach. Loki replied with a quick wince. A ruffle came from next to you. Followed by a lazy groan. Your head turned to the noise. So did Loki's. "You two could have easily waited for another hour." The drone swerved around to bonk into the one that was already there, covering the dungeons. There under the rugged blanket, laid Carol Danvers, looking at the two of you with sleepy eyes. Neither of you knew what to say. She looked at her watch and put her head inside the blanket again. "Five more minutes."

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Text

Earthbound: Gabriel’s Story

Written for @needcake, whose wonderful and ongoing encouragement has spurred me to explore new directions.

Context: Hundreds of years after the fall of Earth, mankind is slowly starting to return. Some people have a stronger urge to return than others, confused by fragments of memories from a life already lived.

Word Count: 3570

Characters: Portugal

Arthur’s story can be found here.

Matthew’s story can be found here.

---

Gabriel is six. He’s at the doctor’s, which he doesn’t think that he deserves, and to protest this offense he does not answer when he is spoken to.

‘Gabriel? Can you answer some questions for me?’

The lady doctor looks nice enough; she doesn’t look scary but that’s not the point and Gabriel presses his lips together and picks up a plastic shape. It’s solid and brightly coloured and he has some like this at home. He likes to build with them, usually, when he can get them from the other kids for long enough, and on the rare occasions he’s left alone with them undisturbed he builds high high towers and pretends they’re castles.

He turns this one, red and smooth, over in his hands and lays it on the small plastic table he is knelt in front of with finality. It will be a part of a dungeon.

‘He’s always like this,’ His foster mummy Anita speaks from behind him, over his head, ‘he has these funny moods where he won’t speak at all, and then when he’s not eating it just gets worse. Never had a kid like him.’

Gabriel feels his presence swallowed softly underneath her words as the conversation passes over and around him as if he were not there. He picks up another shape. This one is round at the edges and is blue. It can go at the top.

The Doctor gently taps the table by his elbow. He turns to find her crouched next to him; eyes slightly too wide behind large glasses. She smiles, ‘What are you building?’

He shrugs.

‘Ah,’ She ponders the beginnings of his construction with interest, ‘Well, the biggest I’ve seen someone build with these is about this big,’ she gestures with her hands to her chest and Gabriel is forced to look at her.

That is quite high.

‘I can go bigger.’

The doctor raises an eyebrow sceptically, ‘I don’t know,’ she says, ‘the girl who built it didn’t have to go home for dinner.’

‘I don’t have to go home for dinner,’ Gabriel retorts, immediately. Mummy Anita scoffs and Gabriel flushes, looking away.

‘Do you not like dinner?’ the doctor prompts, softly.

Gabriel shrugs again.

‘I don’t like Option 3,’ the doctor says. She reaches under the table and picks up another shape -yellow, a triangle- and puts it near him. Might be a good turret ceiling, if they leave him alone to build high enough, ‘that’s what I hate. But my favourite is Option 17.’

‘I don’t like any of them.’

‘No? You must like one of them, there are so many!’

Gabriel shakes his head and continues to stack shapes, ‘they all taste funny.’

‘Funny?’ the doctor glances at Mummy Anita who shrugs.

‘None of the other kids say that. We’ve had the machine checked out- I eat from it. It’s fine. Even tried him on other machines but he says they all taste funny.’

The doctor looks back at him and he tries to look unbothered by their discussion, ‘Why do you think food from meal machines tastes funny? What’s strange about the food?’

It’s an easy enough question, but one that Gabriel can’t really answer- not even to himself.

The best way he can describe it is that food from machines just tastes wrong.

All meals come from food machines. They’re in every home and school and all taste the same; a catalogue copy of meals for everyone to have. But there’s a dryness to everything, something that sticks bland and metallic in his mouth and no matter which out of the many hundreds of options he tries, Gabriel hates them all. There’s something wrong about them, he thinks, something unnatural that he never wants to taste, no matter how used to it he knows he should be. Food from machines is all he’s ever eaten.

They don’t grow things on his colony; vegetables or fruits or grain. There’s no room in the towering stacks of buildings, stretching into the dusty orange sky. The colony is a jumble of things, a jungle bleached colourless and lifeless despite the scattering of people that scrabbled through its warrens.

There is no room for fields here. No farms for cattle to roam. The machines feed them: food materialised from the collective memory of humanity. Gabriel has heard in the playground at school that other human colonies, the ones further off into space where their communications cannot reach, make their own food from scratch, like the people of the olden times of Earth. This seems bizarre to him. What difference would it make, if you made a meal from things instead of a machine? All of their neighbouring colonies do the same as they do and this is all anyone of them have ever known.

Either way, the taste is lifeless and empty so Gabriel avoids eating as much as possible, giving in only when his tummy hurts with an ache that needs to be filled with something, anything, before it will think of going away.

He doesn’t know how to put this into words, so he turns away and adds another block to his tower, hoping that the adults will leave him alone. The doctor on his side sighs and taps something into her e-tab, looking back over at Mummy Anita.

The conversation begins again, over his head, and Gabriel slips away.

When Gabriel is thirteen when he realises that something about him isn’t quite right. It’s not his problem with food, although that has never improved, things taste as stilted now as they ever have done. No matter what meal option he tries, and no matter from which machine, there is the same blandness to everything, a cotton covering that prevents him from tasting what everyone else says he should.

But lack of taste is the least of his concerns.

The word most used to describe him by adults is ‘unfocused.’

This isn’t something he thinks is fair, but he understands how they think that, he supposes. He can often be found staring out of a window or escaping off into space, eyes glassy and face slack. He doesn’t agree with the term ‘unfocused’ because Gabriel is very focused on doing just that.

Escaping.

It is easy. So very, very easy. Like a quick breath in, he can switch off today effortlessly and take himself away somewhere, mind’s eye overlaying reality to wash his surrounds bright and true and better. He can take himself to a place so perfect it can only exist in his mind- soft sandy beaches in front of scrubby mountainsides that soar and roll up and down in sharp curves, all under a sky so blue it burns. Cyan rivers wend down corridors and curl around the legs of his classmates, a cliff face leans out of the drop of a window, a dark cupboard hides the maw of the unknown- damp caves that drip drip drip with depth and cool his older, sun-burnt skin.

If he closes his eyes and truly does focus, he can go even further- bite down and taste Brazilian gold, hard and cold as it hits his teeth to send shivers of warning up his spine. A dropped pencil or a creak of a floorboard snaps into the crackle of a fire, hot and close and his mouth waters with the promise of flame kissed meat and the smell of woodsmoke.

As much as he enjoys this, he realises it is a problem because it is not something that anyone else does. Not anymore, at least, and never as well. Children used to play pretend, of course, when they were younger- it was normal. Gabriel always seemed to be the best at it, somehow, better able to call to mind a place for their games with a vivacity no one else could hope to compare to and it was fun- something he excelled in. He made all of their games, a playmaker in setting the stage and lifting another world to blanket the dusty playground and wrap them all in colours.

But his friends have grown out of such things. Their thirst for the imaginary cooled and then tapered off entirely whilst Gabriel’s hunger for it only grew and grew until he could travel miles in the blink of an eye, drumming fingers playing a marching song to set the pace and propel him onwards.

Why be here when he can be elsewhere? Why would he ever choose otherwise, when elsewhere was a paradise unlike any other. Any colour, any texture, any smell or taste, and all blended and whirled together to spill a storm of yearning through his waking days.

Maybe he could write, he thinks. He is sixteen and thinks that, maybe this is why he does this. Maybe this is something that is normal after all, if he can put what he is feeling to paper and share it with others. If it is productive, it is good, after all. If it creates something tangible, if it is something that others can use and enjoy then it is something worthy; it has value. When it is just for him, it is strange; adults watching with dark and wary eyes, muttering condemnations that shackle him with labels.

It is the way of things.

But writing is harder than it looks. Words only describe so much and are too flat, too rigid to encompass the entirety of what he feels and sees. On paper, the world of his daydreams regresses to shapes like the coloured blocks he used to love as a child- useful for building something, yes, but ultimately something controlled and solid, changeable but unmoving and limited. Gabriel’s imagination isn’t like this, it is constantly new and fluid, forever showing him more and more and more with a detail words can never capture, never truly express.

He dreams of orchards, of fruit so orange and full and clear to him that he can see the speckles of dust in the dips of its skin, the dew that sits on the leaves in the morning. He feels himself, brown, large hand scarred with mistakes and history, close about it and pull; feels the tension as it resists on the branch before a gasp of a break. The leaves of the tree swing back and the fruit is full and firm and he can taste it, taste how full it will be when he peels back the skin and bites down to flood his mouth with sweetness.

He feels air that is cool and tastes of salt, wind that pushes and tugs at his clothes, of a floor of wood that moves and bucks in angry waters of grey and blue. Unknown jungles where the air is thick and hot, arid plains where the sun scorches the rocks, and damp misty hills that whistle ancient secrets across the miles and twist his heart until it breaks.

What is that.

Why is that.

He doesn’t know.

When Gabriel is eighteen, the foster home he is in releases him.

‘You can stay, if you want,’ Anita gives him a measured look, up and down, from beneath her eyelashes, ‘but you’ll need to start paying rent. Benefits stop for you now so I can’t keep you about for free.’

Gabriel blinks at her, ‘But, I don’t have a job.’

Anita’s face remains impassive, ‘Then you’ll have to find one.’

‘How?’ he is angry, all of a sudden. Older children had never stuck about after their eighteenth birthday but he always imagined that they had left of their own accord, that they couldn’t wait to leave. Now he wonders how many of them were forced out, where they went, ‘I’ve never had one before.’

‘Your school should do something about helping you find one. Or, here,’ she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out her e-tab. The paint of the old thing is chipped but it still works; the screen flashes bright and the contrast with the dark office room washes her face flat and white in the glow. After a moment, she holds out the tab to him, ‘there are some programmes about. Take a look at them and sign up to some.’

Gabriel doesn’t take it and her arm hangs there, suspended and stiff between them. Eventually, she sets down the tab and pushes it towards him, ‘I’ll give you two months, if you want to stay. You should be able to find something in that time.’

‘What do I do if I can’t find anything?’ there is a tightness in his chest. He does not like it here, does not really even like her but the taste of betrayal is thick on his tongue and catches in the back of his throat to prick at his lungs, ‘what do I do? This isn’t fair.’

Anita looks at him, hard and cold, ‘Life isn’t fair. The quicker you learn that, the better off you’ll be.’ With that she motions with her head towards the door behind him and tabs on her computer, bringing it back to life.

The conversation is over.

Gabriel clenches his jaw, spins about and opens the door. The e-tab he leaves on her desk.

He moves his way through the house and out to the street. Night has fallen and the glow from their fat, orange sun hangs warm and faded behind the horizon. It looks like a painting; abstract- not real. The cut of the skyline is wrong, too sharp and small and alien all at once and he hurts with the urge to close his eyes and drift away on the tide of his dreams to somewhere better.

He can’t. He needs to do something, needs to go somewhere, needs to eat. Food machines are everywhere, but they cost money that he doesn’t have and the fear of hunger for the tasteless pushes him into the tangle of streets.

Gabriel is twenty-two. He found a job, eventually. It was the spur of the moment, out of desperation, but it’s not all that bad, in the end. He is a builder.

The monotony of manual work allows him to loosen his mind, lift himself out of his body as he lays dun-coloured bricks down in careful order, one by one by one. He builds a home under his hands but his mind is away, far far into grasses so tall they tickle his cheeks and he reconstructs himself into a reality he can control.

This brick can be the dungeon. This brick can be a turret. Gabriel can be elsewhere.

This is enough. It is enough, he tells himself. It is more than enough; if he gets better, he can actually do that, actually build the castles of his dreams. Maybe he could be an artist, or an architect, maybe he can design a whole new colony that has fancy machines to replicate wind or bodies of water to recreate a sea deep and blue enough to have come straight from the Earth itself.

When he thinks about this too deeply, it hurts.

The ancient planet sings to him from the files of history, a stunning colourful thing that hangs suspended in time. Oh, what he would give to be there. To see the oceans and feel the grasses of fields that are somehow so very green. What he would give for the possibility see it, just once. Any part of it.

The pictures he’s seen, the videos and the stories that are collected into binary are the only things left of humanity’s original home- something so colourful and incredible that it is hauntingly impossible. Gabriel’s dreams must be modelled on it, he knows, they must have a grain of truth in them because only his imagination can compare to the flat, coded remains of Earth. Nothing man-made can be so beautiful, nothing built by mortal hands produce such unkempt beauty.

Gabriel feels like he was born in the wrong time, made and moulded to explore something older and wilder where he can go and go and go and always see something new, unending and natural. This lost opportunity, this missed moment and incorrect assignment whips a storm in his heart and brings tears to his eyes but passes, eventually. He is not a man for regret, not a man to dwell on what he cannot have and he consoles himself with the idea that maybe, one day, he can help to build a new world that rivals the one in his dreams.

When Gabriel is twenty-four, one of the human colonies fails. As the colony collapses, life systems screaming into the vacuum, the population spills into the sky, desperate to get away however they can. As one of their closest neighbours, despite the distance, Gabriel’s planet catches a lot of them.

They arrive in huge patchwork ships- cobbled together with speed, not precision. They’re falling apart and can barely cling on and the people they contain are scared, panicked things; exhausted by the constant and very near threat of death they press beseechingly into their new home. His planet is full, really, too full to take on so many but they have nowhere else to go, no place else to stop and so they flock into streets and public buildings, cawing for food and water and housing.

As a builder, Gabriel is in high demand and is immediately put to work. Hastily constructed houses spring up, growing the towns outwards and into the desert. There are no domes here- Gabriel’s planet can sustain itself and for the new arrivals this is bewildering.

Gabriel begins to talk to one of them. She is old, feather light skin wrinkled and soft, and she flutters like a bird about the building site, eager to offer help in any way she can. It’s sweet and Gabriel softens to her instantly, sensing she feels a displacement similar to what he does. A kinship of the unbelonging.

Every afternoon she arrives and as soon as his shift ends, he lowers himself to the ground and goes in search of her. They take tea together in the shade and talk existence to rights.

‘You remind me of my grandson,’ she says one day. Gabriel avoids talking about her planet or her family, or anything to do with what brought her here. He does not know what parts of it will cause her pain and he has no wish to do that to her. She must feel enough when she is alone, he knows, when she has time to mourn what she has lost and it is not his place to bring that sadness to other aspects of her day. She never offers anything and so the subject lies between them, an elephant in the void of space.

When she says this, then, he is surprised and curious, ‘Oh? How so?’

She smiles, ‘He’s a dreamer too. Always thinking of things when he should be focusing. He makes a similar face to the one you do.’

Gabriel blushes, ashamed to have been caught drifting off whilst in her company.

She sees his embarrassment and laughs, ‘Oh no, don’t worry- it’s fine. I used to love watching him float away somewhere. I used to say he was going off to Neverland.’

‘That’s a nice description for it,’ it’s an old Earthen story Gabriel was fond of growing up- a tale of a journey to somewhere else, ‘What was his name?’

‘Is,’ she corrects firmly and Gabriel nods apologetically, ‘Is. His name is Peter.’

‘Peter,’ the name fits a fellow daydreamer. The boy who never grew up. Gabriel decides to ask, tentatively, ‘Where is he?’

The old lady looks wistful, ‘Earth,’ she says with a sigh, ‘He and his parents managed to get passage to Earth but I wasn’t able to. We’re too far out to send any communication- I don’t want to think about what they believe became of me.’

Gabriel blinks once. Twice. Tries to speak, ‘Earth?’

She frowns at him, ‘Yes, don’t you know?’ Realisation hits and she shakes her head, ‘Oh, I forget that you don’t hear much this far out. Earth was declared habitable a few months ago. They’re starting a founding colony there to see if humans can survive there again.’

‘Wh- what?’

She looks at him, concerned, ‘Are you alright? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

Gabriel can’t really understand her, her voice feels like its coming from one end of an endless tunnel and his heart is hammering too loudly in his chest to focus on her. He stands, shaky, and she clutches at his shirt hem, ‘Gabriel? Gabriel, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ his heart pounds canon fire, a boom boom boom that disorientates him. He smells smoke, smells fire, smells death, ‘I thought- I thought it was gone, Earth was gone.’

‘It was, but they travelled to investigate about a decade ago and they’ve been researching it- dear please sit down.’

She tugs at him but he shakes his head, a ghost of understanding in his mind that slips away like silk, ‘Can we go? Who can go- can I go?’

She looks scared, ‘Yes, but there’s a waiting list, you need to get your name down- Gabriel!’

---

He doesn’t wait for her to finish. He takes off into the centre of town to the public buildings, pushing his way through crowds to get there faster. He won’t waste one second more, will grab hold of what acutely feels like a delicate second chance with both hands and won't dare to let go.

AN:

This was my first time writing Portugal as a character with a voice and it was both challenging and very fun to do. There are so many amazing Portugal writers out there to inspire me and I hope I have done him justice for any of you who read this!

The full fic can be found here on A03. It doesn’t include Portugal, but explores this AU a whole lot more with a different cast of characters.

Thanks for reading!

#aph portugal #hws portugal #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #my writing

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jdfreads · 3 years

Text

Reading all the Redwall books in publication order: Mossflower

I FINALLY finished Mossflower, after about three months of chewing through it. Not a mark against the book, just my adhd acting up. I finished most of the book in one day actually. (not a critical review, just all the thoughts dumped into a post)

Blurb: The thrilling prequel to "Redwall". The clever and greedy wildcat Tsarmina becomes ruler of all Mossflower Woods and is determined to govern the peaceful woodlanders with an iron paw. The brave mouse Martin and quick-talking mouse thief Gonff meet in the depths of Kotir Castle's dungeon. The two escape and resolve to end Tsarmina's tyrannical rule. Joined by Dinny the mole, Martin and Gonff set off on a dangerous quest for Salamandastron, where they are convinced that their only hope, Boar the Fighter, still lives.

Sidenote, the Goodreads blurb for some reason put Dinny as Kinny, and in my edition its Dinny, therefore Goodreads is wrong and can eat my dick. Also Kinny would be a hilarious name.

Death count of named characters: 21 (the exact same as Redwall. dunno if that's intentional)

Death count of unnamed characters: Dunno! But it was actually a lot less than in Redwall for sure, because they let most of Tsarmina's army go instead of SLAUGHTER.

(Spoilers ahead for a 30 year old novel, proceed with caution <3)

This was a fun one! I honestly liked Martin's quest to go to Salamandastron a lot more than Matthias's quest. Idk, it just felt more action packed. Matthias had a Lot of sitting and pondering riddles, while Martin had Gonff and Dinny who were fun on their own, plus encounters with enemies to fight and outsmart. Getting to see all the backstory for Redwall was cool. We got to see a bunch of elements and characters that would eventually become Redwall. I also enjoyed Columbine as a character, especially since she got some agency in the story and we got to hear her perspective, unlike with Cornflower in Redwall. I like that Gonff was the one with a love interest instead of Martin since it fleshes him out and lets Martin do all the revenge he could want.

God, the strategy in this? Chef's kiss. It really felt like watching a chess game unfold except a lot more chaotic and occasionally they'd find new pieces to use. That's what I've really been enjoying about these books so far, is the military strategy on both sides. Them flooding Kotir was such a cool move, and the fact that it was a double fake out with it failing at first and then succeeding with the arrival of the Wuddship? Fantastic! Amazing! Beautiful!

Tsarmina was a fun villain! She was just campy and evil as hell, plus watching her slowly descend into madness over the sounds of dripping water that no one else could hear? Chef's kiss. Watching her snap Martin's father's sword is just such a good personal moment to build tension and animosity between the two. I really wish there could've been a moment like that with Cluny and Matthias, because their struggle felt far more impersonal, but idk if that would've worked in the story.

I like how it built throughout the story how little the soldiers of Kotir are loyal to her, really helps set up their desertion and surrender at the end. I liked that most of the infantry got to live and move on to a new place instead of dying. Like in Redwall its explicitly stated in text that most of Cluny's soldiers were recruited completely unwillingly from the surrounding forest, and then they were all killed. I just find that really sad.

Some character thoughts:

Gonff: Funky! Love him. If there's an audiobook of this I hope they gave all of his songs tunes and if they didn't thats a crime

Dinny: so hard to understand but still cool, just want to give him a pat on the head

Martin: mmmmm, warrior mouse. wish he was a Touch more feral

Columbine: Better than cornflower and you can fight me on it

Lady Amber and Skipper: mlm and wlw solidarity. I won't be taking criticism at this time

Bella: butch lesbian. friend shaped, would trust her with my life

Gingivere: he fucks

Abbess Germaine: she definitely also fucks. GILF

Tsarmina: Queen of a Thousand Eyes, if humanized has the potential to be the Second Tumblr Sexywoman

Gloomer: I know he's a wordless swimming flesh eating monster rat... but I could fix him

Brogg: so stupid and so trusting. too bad he got crushed by that flying rock, he would've made a good malewife

Bane: greedler with a knife

Fortunata: fox. too clever to be smart

Ashleg: he gone

List of named character deaths (in chronological order):

*=death either from that character’s point of view or in disturbing detail

-Verdauga

-Luke the Warrior

-Barkstripe

-Gloomer*

-Thicktail*

-Scratch*

-Blacktooth*

-Splitnose*

-Fortunata*

-Mask*

-Cludd

-Squint*

-Badtail*

-Boar the Fighter

-Bane*

-Argulor*

-Ratflank

-Bentbrush

-Foulwhisker*

-Brogg*

-Tsarmina*

Next on the list:

Mattimeo

Mariel of Redwall

Salamandastron

(BONUS! Some bits from my notes app:

Tsarmina Fortunata lesbian moment? (Fortunata died almost immediately after this)

BATS ARE CANON!!!!

MARTIN TIMBALLISTO GAY MOMENT! pg 307)

#redwall #mossflower #brian jacques #martin the warrior #redwall show #long post

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namjoonchronicles · 4 years

Text

healing | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship ↳ words 1.9k ↳ summary Yoongi maybe the worst in projecting his emotions, but his actions don’t lie ↳ warning suggestive content ↳ song james arthur ‘let me love the lonely’ ‘safe inside’ ‘can i be him’ ‘certain things’

“I would do anything to forget.” “And I would do anything to remember.”

The second male lead actor bore a wounded expression on his handsome face. The female lead actress was unapologetic and relentless to his heart. She swore that forgetting that she ever loved him is the only way to go on with her life. But the actor finally remembered all the love they had before he loses his memories as a result of an accident orchestrated by his step mother. He pretended to not remember just to know how she really felt about him. She said enough. Yoongi gawks at the screen. “Does that even make sense? How can he stay silent after that? How can he be okay with just that? What a load of bull--” His phone vibrates just as he is about to curse. With his wife’s picture flashing on the screen, he wipes his hand on his flannels and refastened the velcro straps of his arms to secure them back on. “Hello?”

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing?” “Watching that episode was a mistake, why would they ruin the story like that, everything was going just fine, I don’t understand…” You chuckled at your husband’s adorable whines, and “How far in were you?” “Joonsoo told Bora that he wanted to remember…Ah! I am so upset, I am not going to watch the rest of the episode… I don’t care…” “But you have to see what happens after that! A little spoiler for you…” you sang and he replied, “Ah! Ah, no. Don’t tell me what happens. No!” “She knew that Joonsoo’s memories came back, but she is doing that to follow Joonsoo’s mother's instructions…” you told him anyways. Yoongi leans back into his chair and it wobbles back and forth at his weight. He swiveled away from the screen, holding the phone close to his ear and he sighed out loud. “Why did you call me?” “I am just walking out a fried chicken hawker stall and was wondering if you’d like some but I remember your doctor saying you can’t have oily food… so that’s cancelled.” His wife is a tease. All she does is tease. Yoongi left his home studio and walked down the hallway to the living room. He then revealed to you that he found your gastric medication laying around the cabinet with several pills gone. Yoongi had always been so attentive towards things like these. Ever since he had to stay home longer than usual because of his shoulder surgery, he is policing you around with his keen eyes. He found out that you don’t really take care of yourself as well as you told him you were. There were antacids, antiemetics and all kinds of painkillers he found in the medicine cabinet that weren't his. This was alarming, at least to Yoongi. “You’re telling me that you crawled to work despite having gastric two days prior?” he scolded you with a low monotonous voice, pinky pushing the blisters away to see just how much you’ve been taking behind his back. “It’s nothing to worry about, it’ll go away soon… I learn endurance from the best,” you pushed your tongue to cheek, leisuring down the pedestrian walk area, pouting hard at your husband. “You’re talking back at me,” he scoffs, “I taught you that? I guess it's fair… Have you eaten?” You didn’t eat because you don’t have the appetite. After the gastric attack happened, you have been vomiting every time you ate, and your throat burns every time from the acid reflux. “Eating is terrifying…” you confessed. Yoongi poked his head into the refrigerator after the call ended. He took out leek, dried lavers, and whatever he could find in the fridge to start a small dinner. And he did them all with one hand. It wasn’t easy. The carrots were roughly chopped and the potatoes are barely peeled properly. It’s the best dish to take after gastric. He took a couple cups of rice and had them washed under running water. He measured the water and threw in a thumb-sized ginger so it got cooked together. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he really enjoys cooking. He was raised in a house that always belittled women's chores and because of the whole ‘boys shouldn’t cook’ agenda, he was more curious than ever in the kitchen. It comes naturally to him. He would secretly help his mom cook and prepare food to sell in school during the day. It remains one of the memories he is most fond of. He doesn’t really like telling people out loud how he feels. It was something you both had in common. Coming together was difficult. It was like a race to the end, who will clamor up or who will fall apart faster, to you. Yoongi was determined to keep his emotions sealed in his dungeon called heart. Which was ridiculous, because everyone knows, the more you try to hide your feelings, the louder it is. He doesn’t say ‘I love you’ like normal people. His ‘I love you’s’ are scattered all around you. It was in the walls he painted and in the bookshelf he helped build. It’s in the picture of the milky way he took and in the pile of bandages he bought you when you sprained your ankle. They say, the eyes are windows to the soul. Yoongi had never looked you in the eye. It’s like he runs away from the things he wants the most. It almost made you give up. Seeing how the feelings aren’t verbally reciprocated almost made you leave. Winter, several years ago, “For Yoongi-hyung, you have to force it out of him…” Taehyung advised. “I don’t want to force him…” you sighed, “What if he does this to all his girl friends?” Taehyung stared at you dead in the eye with a cunning smile. “What does your heart tell you?” He asked. “My heart had been wrong before,” You shot back. Taehyung suddenly turned his attention to his phone, his face shone by the light from the screen and he smirked, “If he doesn’t, would he be running all the way up here at this time?” Just then, Yoongi bursted through the door. Chest heaving up and down, eyes blown wide, mouth gaping. His eyes darted to Taehyung and then to you. “You know he won’t leave his bed for anything…” Taehyung glances at you with a knowing smile, “What could this mean?” He feigned a surprised face at you and walked towards the door at Yoongi. And even then, he wouldn’t confess. “You love me, right?” you asked him. “It’s already so late…” “Please answer me…” He appeared conflicted. “Min Yoongi, you don’t love me?” “I… Let’s not do this…” “I think you do… Everyone knows you love me, everybody. Everyone, but you…” “Let’s talk in the morning…” At that time, Yoongi is afraid of commitment despite never really having problems actually committing. His past relationship didn’t go so well because he felt inadequate. And for that, he feared karma. He left the last one because he didn’t think he could be a good person for her. He was bound by depression, crippling sadness and fear so great, it left him in shambles. Being in a relationship back then made him feel like a boulder to a smooth sailing ship. He felt dragged along. He was responsible for two hearts and it felt a lot at the time. He knows just how much hurt he caused her and he knows that karma will come after him. That’s why when he fell for you, his first reaction was to be defensive. He doesn’t want the same hurt to happen to you. Because, what if he hurts you?

“And if I tell you I don’t care?”

The winter arrived on schedule this year. You shivered as you walked into your house. Yoongi is still in the kitchen, turning off the stove. “You didn’t rest like I told you to!” “How could I if you were not eating… I rested for a surgery and couldn’t cook ever since I returned, and you are already getting gastric from not eating…” You helped Yoongi carry the soup on the table. And you scooped him his rice. He was right. Your appetite went down ever since you had to cook on your own. His cooking has always been the thing you look forward to when you return home, but now, you don’t feel like eating because it’s always the same food over and over again. “Does it taste good?” He asked, lovingly. His eyes oozing fondness. “So-very good…” you said with a mouthful. “I have to shower after this… I am sweating so much,” he spoke to his bowl of rice. You unbuttoned his shirt and carefully slid the long sleeves down his arm. You keep glancing up his face to see if he is in any type of discomfort. His ears were the first to turn bright red and he had been biting his lower lip ever since you started undressing him. That wasn’t alarming. The strange thing about Yoongi is that he giggles or laughs when he is in pain. No giggles is fine. No smiles are good. By the time you took off his flannel buttoned up shirt, his face was bright red like he had been drinking whiskey. You couldn't help but smile when he gets sheepish like this. He looks like a sheep ready for the slaughter room. Next thing to come off is his trousers. The bath is ready and he climbs in. You went to the cabinet and showed him two bath bombs he could choose from. He wanted the lavender one. You always liked how it smells. Yoongi sat docile in the middle of the bath, while you swept his hair back and dabbed his face with a dampened towel. Then you move to his back and wipe along the spine, carefully avoiding harsh movements around the stitches on his shoulder. “The stitches are coming together nicely,” you spoke in whispers. Just the sound of the water dripping into the pool was heard. Yoongi let out an encouraging, “Is it…” “The skin around it is not swollen, and its closing up prettily,” you gushed, “At this rate you can start physical therapy around next month...?” “That’s nice to hear…” He hums happily, “I had been feeling rather helpless, and shackled, and unable to work at the speed I used to.” “Hence,” you started with a scolding tone, “Take care of yourself better from today onwards. Everyone frets around you, worried and bustling over you. Coddling you like a baby…when you get hurt like this, you worry everyone. Why did you keep quiet about this pain for so long…This type of perseverance is inhumanly. What are you… a saint?” He chuckles. You took off your own shirt and garments. Yoongi mashed his lips together, stealing glances on your body and when you climbed in the same tub and started washing yourself, he started to gather all the foams. “That’s why, stop hurting yourself…” you repeated your warning, unhooking your bra and throwing it on the marble floor next to your crumpled heap of blouses and trousers. Yoongi sighs. Loudly this time. “What is it now…” you blinked at him. “I want to get well faster… I missed unhooking your bras with my own hands…”

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underlinediagnosis · 3 years

Text

Weird Looking Dog - Chp. 1-3

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A Borrower Au.

Warnings - Themes of abuse, abductions, intentionally hurting minors, fear play, and people being treated like pets are present.

Can be read on...

Deviantart- https://www.deviantart.com/batterysavermode/art/Weird-Looking-Dog-Chapter-1-872465523

Archive of our own- https://archiveofourown.org/works/30746024/chapters/75884288

My first g/t writing so embrace the hiccups.

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Chapter 1 - Lung Aches

She could never run away from the cold air. She should never seek comfort from a hug from her mother. Never wear a smile when her father would tell a joke. She could never fulfill her dream of meeting a dog. No. She could never be happy again.

The cold and shiny metal caused goosebumps to form along her pale short legs. Thin and weak arms hugged her dull pink shirt. The shirt looked too big for the small girl. In reality she had grown too small for the shirt. The thin fabric hiding ribs that jutted against her skin like dull blades.

Her toes that laid flat against the metal were pink and felt numb. The sensation of constantly being cold was sadly becoming normal. The sight of tall silver bars surrounding her was becoming a normal sight as well. The bars were narrow but there were many circling around her. With gaps so small that she could only fit an arm through.

While the sight of bars never comforted her like the sight of her mother or father. The poor child had immediately decided that the sight of bars, the bone chilling frost of the air, the silence and despair of an empty room. Was better than interacting with any human. Whose body heat felt sick and the leather skin felt gross to touch.

Not that she would say any of that to the humans. A regular human was scary enough to bring tears to her eyes. The thought of an angry human sent a shiver down her spine. No matter how much fear, dread, and pain she felt from the humans. Those feelings were always there but grew when she was with a human. Yet there was a permanent weight in her chest. Always so potent. She missed her mother and her father so much. She missed her neighbor Mr. Klipspringer. She missed being able to listen safely in the walls whenever the humans would talk about dogs.

All of her loss made her chest hurt so much. Normally a child her age could fool themselves into thinking that they would be saved. Delaying the permanent weight of despair in their lungs until the last seconds. Yet with the experiences Rose Fox had been through. She knew that the sad feeling in her lungs would be there forever. Just as she knew she was destined to live her life in a cage.

Her innocent curiosity of the world was long since sucked away. Thinking about sad questions led to her blurting out. Which led to the humans hurting her for doing something bad. Yet she never really knew if it was bad for speaking out of turn. The way the humans taught her was way different than her parents.

Her parents taught her with love and passion. With a warmth that she wished for. The humans on the other hand were just plain scary. They did not bother to tell her why she had to do something. She just had to.

Not that she wanted to ask in the first place. Instinctively knowing that just following what ever they wanted would be best for her survivability. Maybe that is why she was always so tired. She may sleep on the uncomfortable metal but there was always a part of her that was awake. Listening for danger and so scared of any human.

That part of her was also confused but still, as always, on high alert. A couple days ago she had heard the human screaming. His loud voice had shook the house. Patches of blood still crusted around her ears. Even thought she had tried to cover her ears with her matted hair and small hands. Humans were just so loud.

Then, for the first time since she got here, the only sounds was the weather banging against the house. She did not know how long it had been since the house went quiet but she did know one thing.

She was very hungry. Normally when the human was away she had enough strength to buy the time. Rather it be self care or watching the wind play with the trees. Now looking at the only light in the room, which being the sunlight from the open window, caused a headache.

All of her emotions felt dull in her weakened state. Almost matching her weak body. All of her nails and toenails ripped clean off in an attempt to eat anything. She knew toenails and nails grew back, her mother had told her why but she forgot, but waiting for new ones was taking longer than she intentionally thought a couple days ago.

Her stomach grumbled but that sound was just as common as hearing the birds cry outside. Her tired brown eyes stared at the lock of the cage. A mechanism that looked as tall as her. The humans called it a lock but she just called it another human thing.

She knew she could never escape. How would she be able to reach the human thing? Her arms were too short. Also if she were to some how to open the door she had no way of getting down. She was suspended in air by a long metal chain that was attached to the bird cage.

She knew she was very high up. This is because the cage was eye level with the human. At least when the scary human was in the room. As much as she hated him she wished he would bring food.

Even though her young brain thought that she could survive off of her nail clippings. Seemed as true as the fact that humans were mean and scary.

The small girl somehow had the energy to flinch when the house creaked. She knew all too well that the sound was not caused by the wind. Not by a bird or by a massive tree. No, the sound was caused by a human. She did not know the layout of her new dungeon as well as her old house but she knew one thing. Humans had a door that led from the inside to the terrifying outside.

Dread coursed through her veins and she found it hard to breath. Her whole body felt numb at the thought of being under an intense gaze again. Being toyed with and being through so much fear that no person, let alone a child, should be through.

She felt tears shooting down her face. Hugging herself and fearfully trying to squeeze into the world's tiniest ball. Her breathing quicken and her lungs stung against the cold air. Her numb toes felt unmovable from fear. The notion that the human would bring her food could not even help her ground herself.

Her grip on her tattered pink shirt tightened. Leaving her pale hands to become as white as snow. Her dirty face was painted with a stroke of fear and concern. Memories of hands swooping down like when an owl catches its prey. She sniffed as she thought of her mother’s laugh. Her father’s award winning smile. Her heart beat fast but her body was frozen in place. Her natural instincts to stay as still as possible. Try to stay hidden and unnoticed.

She was jolted out of her panic when a voice rumbled through the house.

“Hello?”

This was a different human.

Chapter 2 - Birdcage

“Hello?”

The hair on the back of his neck stood. The open entrance with light blue walls had a stagnant air. Even with the large open windows the house felt suffocating and still. Something was not right and John Watson was sure of it.

Hesitantly closing the front door behind him John Watson silently crept into the open family room. Large open windows lit up the room. The large grey couch stretching out before him. All thoughts of how much of a cock Sherlock has been forgotten. Easily replaced by the unstill air.

John sighed with tired eyes. Rushing down the hallway. Doors on either side opening to empty rooms. The last door looked out of place in the hallway. Marks and scratches visible against the oak wood. The handle did not budge at first as he moved to open the door.

The walls of the room seemed to hunch over as if they were crying. The terrible paint job looking like tears. A single strand of light came from the window. The rest was shadowed by the tree right outside the window. The carpet was as stiff as wood. Looking like the red carpeted seats found in movie theaters.

The man living in the house was not in the room. In fact the room looked as worn down as an abandoned building. The only signs of how wealthy the person living here was a single object. A bird cage beautifully hanging in the air by a strong metal chain. The birdcage hung in front of the window. The metal gleaming and it’s shadow stretched along the floor.

The bird cage was empty. As evident by the chilling quiet air. Which seemed almost too quiet. Like as if someone was trying to hide. The human’s brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at the birdcage lost in thought. He stood at the frame of the door. His shoes firmly planted in place.

He shook his head and smiled sadly to himself. All this interviewing and trying to catch up with Sherlock had not left a lot of time for sleep in his schedule. The side effects were clearly showing.

Then the phone in his pocket chimed. It’s loud chime causing his heart to skip a beat a little. He was on edge from the strange feeling that came from this room.

A small thud seemed to echo louder than the chime of his phone. When in reality it was hardly noticeable.

Something was in that birdcage.

Without really thinking he walked over to the cage. Wondering what color of feathers the bird would have.

-----------

Her body did what the humans had tried to beat out of her. She quickly laid on her side, even though she knew humans did not like that. Her rib bones basically touching the cold metal surface. She scratched up into a ball. Her knee caps touching her forehead, she did this even when she knew that fingers will force her out of her panicked ball with ease.

She laid there with thoughts that no child of 7 years old should have to think. She shivered with prey instincts that would put a rabbit’s to shame. She was not afraid of being eaten, the poor girl was not even aware of such things.

This human was new but that did not make a difference. Mr. Klipspringer, her neighbor, had been so right.

“If a human finds you. They have the need to harm you. It comes as natural as the need for food and water,”

His quiet voice echoed in her head. As the booming footsteps from outside became louder and louder everything in her froze. Even the hairs on the back of her neck stopped rising. She gripped so hard on her pants that it started to hurt. She was about to loosen her grip but she did not dare move when the air swooshed.

A breeze that sent her matted hair flying. Her ears started to burn from the lack of her hairy blanket. She knew all too well what that sudden gust of wind meant.

The human had opened the door. An object that was the size of a mountain moved without thought by the human. She could not see the human. Her face was basically buried into her chest. Yet she could feel and hear his presence.

She could hear fabric shift with the rise and fall of his chest. Her brain and body tormented her with the phantom sensation of warm human breath surrounding her. Goosebumps covered her skin, both from the cold and the fear, every strand of hair on edge.

Tears dropped onto the cold metal surface. Her cheek screaming at her to move from the cold metal surface. She wanted to fight, squirm, find a way to escape his notice. She wished she had the strength of her father. Or the quick wit of her mother. Even in her fear her lungs felt heavy from sorrow.

She felt naked being in plain sight but that is what the humans wanted. They wanted to look at her. They thought that being out in plain sight made her happy. In reality it made her tired and on edge all the time.

Maybe that is why she gave into her instincts. The large part of her screaming at her to sit like a doll. To fake happiness out of fear of being hurt. After all the humans always smiled with large scary teeth whenever she had to play pretend.

She may be young but she knew cause and effect. If you stay quiet maybe you will be able to hear the humans talk about dogs. If you wait long enough your nails will grow back and then you can eat again. If you show fear the humans will forcefully correct you.

It had only been a year in captivity and the poor girl had no reason to smile for real.

Maybe that is why when a loud chime broke the silence, she flinched. Her body hurling herself like a fish out of water. The impact caused a thud from her body hitting against metal. She barely held in a gasp as she cringed from the sound she made.

She screamed human words in her head. She did not know what they meant, only knowing that if she said them it would result in her getting thrown. It seemed like she deserved being thrown from the amount of noise she had made.

Now she was going to end up trapped. Not trapped in a cage where she could shiver in the cold. No even worse. Trapped in hands that made her feel like she was touching a maggot infested rat carcass.

Her heart pounded so fast. Humans were so scary and confusing.

She knew she was being ‘bad’ for giving into her instincts. She did not know why curling into a ball was bad when it felt like the safest thing to do. As the human moved and the world shook. She understood that the heavy pain in her lungs whenever she thought about her mother or father was going to become an afterthought. The human might even break bones for her fearful misdeeds.

Chapter 3 - The Man Looking In

John Watson's face showed the two emotions that he had felt once his blue eyes gazed upon that small figure.

His brow furrowed in concern. His mouth gaped with surprise.

Well the surprise had hit him first.

He basically had his face press against the metal bars to take in all the details of the impossibly small girl. She had long matted brown hair that clung to her back. She kept her face hidden. She wore black baggy pants that stopped at her knees. Her legs were short and thin.

A large bruise on one of her legs was as clear as a spec of ink on a blank piece of paper. It was dark compared to her snow white skin. It was circular and seemed too large for her stick like legs.

Oh god.. Was the bruise a finger print?

His eyes anxiously checked the rest of her body. Looking for any visible signs of injuries. She wore a thin salmon pink shirt. It was tattered and clearly had seen better days. Her legs and arms were skin and bone. Seemly too thin even for such a small body type.

She looked to be two inches tall. Way smaller than any of John’s fingers. He finally blinked after his minute long stare. Guilt slowly crept into his heart. Slowly washing away the shock of meeting such a small kid.

A kid. A child.

Obviously scared and here he was staring at her like she was some sort of freak show. With a nervous swallow it did not take long to realize that he was the one scaring the kid.

He blinked away tears that were forming. His heart wanted him to just hug the kid. His mind whirling at what she had been through to end up in a cage. He let out a sigh. Stopping almost immediately when he saw the matted clump of hair flying.

This poor child was so scared.

Scared of him.

He reminded himself. He stood in silence for a moment longer. Forcing himself to become as still as a statue. Worried that the girl would have a heart attack if he moved. Even in his shock of seeing such a small figure he needed to remain calm.

It did not matter that he could barely see her fearful shivers. They were there. A child was all alone in facing a big scary monster. He needed to be the nightlight for the child. Right now he was only being the monster that hid underneath the bed.

“Are you okay?”

John Watson’s voice was hesitant and he thought he was being quiet. He barely held in a wince when the tiny body flinched. He blinked once more in confusion when he realized the little girl might not even understand what he was saying.

Time seemed to stop as he waited for an answer. He was almost afraid for the kid to answer. He felt dizzy at the thought that someone could be heartless enough to put a little kid in a cage. Well, a little little kid, but a person nonetheless.

He watched with horror as the child only curled further into a ball. Her spine showing itself against the flimsy pink shirt.

Way to go jackass.

He thought to himself.

If the little girl were to look at those large blue eyes. She would have seen the shift in his gaze. From fascination to utter concern.

He opened his mouth to speak. Hesitating at the last second just incase the little girl spoke. After a few more awkward seconds of waiting, standing there with his face pressed against the cage, he knew with a pang of sadness that the kid was too afraid to speak.

He knew he could just get the child out of there. He was in control of a small human being. A feeling in which he did not like one bit. Clearly the little girl seemed to agree.

He knew that if he were to just grab the child out of there. Many things would happen. The girl would panic. Things would be easier. He could get a closer examination and look for any broken bones. Easily take her back to his flat. He could, and would, try to help find her parents. Assuming she had parents.

Yet something stopped him from taking advantage. It just felt gross to do.

She did not know that all John wanted to do was help her. John’s heart skipped a beat when he imagined what she was thinking.

The shivering in her body only grew worse and worse. Oh god. Did she think she was going to be hurt?

Or worse?

It took everything in him to refrain from tearing apart her prison.

He knew that someone had hurt her. As evident by the large bruise on her thin leg. He cut off that line of thought before visible anger could show on his face. His anger at what someone else did would no doubt scare the girl to death.

He spoke again. Cutting off his internal pity party for the other person in the room. He stiffened once more. For the first time in his life feeling dangerously large and tall.

“My name is John Watson. I am a doctor which means I help people. I uh.. I am here to help,”

He whispered.

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valntinemorgenstern · 4 years

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An Ocean of Darkness; an elriel one-shot

Summary: *Set post-ACOSF / post B&M extra* *ACOSF SPOILERS*

Azriel meditates on Nyx's birth and tries to settle with himself what his new future will look like. He encounters Elain in the grounds outside the House of Wind. Angsting and sexual tension proceed.

There was something almost wrong about this feeling. Swaddled in the finest cloth, nestled in his arms, the little body was surprisingly weighty; compact. Hot. Its head was barely as wide as his fist. Its scent, sweet as honeysuckle at twilight, billowed around him as it breathed, the motion barely perceptible through the swaddling. Only if he peered close: there. A flutter against the fabric, delicate as a bee’s wings.

Azriel knew it should not have been like this. But the sight of Nyx sleeping, so effortlessly perfect, unleashed something ravenous inside him. Dark as a moonless night; seeping. It spread with the consistency of newly-spilled of blood. Tangible, like seeing an old acquaintance outlined in the doorway.

His shadows began to rise around him.

Where did this feeling come from? Why was he slipping, just at the sight of an infant? It was as if his foot had slid over ice-smooth rock, where he had expected to feel a foothold. And now he fell. And fell, and fell, it seemed, in every direction.

Everything about this was hard to accept. This improbable creature, only two years ago, could never have existed. The fact that in some long-distant eon of time, he himself would have resembled this miniature thing. This thing so fragile, despite the tips of its wings poking out above the blankets. This thing that knew nothing but the everlasting worship of everyone in their Inner Circle. Mor had held onto him for hours; Azriel had only wrestled her into relinquishing her prize by reminding her that her presence was needed elsewhere.

In that long-distant eon of time, had he, too, shut his eyes so? Slept with such trust, in a stranger’s arms? His cheeks, were they as apple-round, as faintly blushed? His nose as tiny? Surely even he, as a babe, would have been set into the cradle of someone’s arms like this, however briefly. Would they have seen his skin as Nyx’s was? Dusky and glowing. Whole, silk-thin. Unruined.

Azriel brought a fingertip up to his forehead, tracing a reverent line across his skin. The intensity of that softness astonished him. It was like a sun-warmed rose petal, rubbed between your fingers. He had forgotten that this was what children were like: their bodies so foreign, so killingly soft. No wonder this had been beaten out of him.

A scrap of a memory danced before him. A whirling hem of a dress; a hand, thrown backwards. Elegant, and pale. Faint lines of dirt circling the fingernails.

His gaze lifted, as if to follow it.

Instead, his eyes collided with Rhys’, who, it appeared, had been staring at him.

There was no time to tuck away his thoughts. They were breaking the surface even as Azriel straightened, and he knew how gasping-loud they would be. All this time, and I thought it would just be us, together. And now, I am the one alone. The next followed, swimming on its tail, but of course, it would always be this way. This is the way it was always supposed to be. It was always going to be. In the end, there would only ever be him. Azriel would always be there, really, chained on the floor of that dungeon. Head cast back in the stale darkness, seeing only the faint light of his breath on the chilly air.

His brother’s expression was twisted into a wellspring of deep sorrow. For him.

Rhys stepped forwards. “I’m sorry.”

It was like some snag in time: already, the resemblance between father and son was so strong. This was just a vision of what the boy in his arms would be in so many years.

Get out of my head. It surprised him, the anger. Like someone had rushed him by mistake and he stumbled, casting around for who had done it.

“I’ll take him.” Rhys said, coming closer, arms extended.

Azriel glanced down at Nyx, suddenly unable to remember why he had petitioned Mor to hold him in the first place. What did he want with this child, so loved? What did he want with the memories and the feelings he invoked so slickly, so powerfully?

As his arms were relieved of the burden, he considered that he must be the only person in all of Prythian who was not interested in handling the babe. Once the news of Nyx’s existence became widespread — and it was already leaking, fast, his sources informed him — the child would be hunted for the rest of his existence.

Then he was in the air, feeling the wind whip about his wings, whirling up and up. It just this side of dusk, the sky quietly darkening, the horizon splayed plum-purples and blues. Rhys and Cassian, both, now had their mates and their homes, but this was Azriel’s only real home. The empty sky. The smell of the air, turning into night. The soothing cold. Breathing so deep as to let the chill infuse his skin, down to his bones, over and over, as if he could bottle this precious sensation, so that it would be always with him.

Azriel let himself circle, flying aimlessly, until the night stretched itself over the heavens in its full glory. He had seen so many courts, visited so many places — probably even more than Rhysand. But no other could compare to the fabulous majesty of the night court sky, this high, this late. Velvet-black, all-encompassing but for the light of the stars that glittered like drops of crystal inlaid into a seabed of darkness. And just like an ocean, it seemed to move, to breathe a life of its own. A darkness that you could reach into, and it would reach back.

When eventually he returned to the House of Wind, he lingered outside, unwilling to step across the threshold. For there was only his solitary bed, and sleep, mocking him. Taunting him.

From the smell of vacancy about the place, he could tell that Cassian and Nesta were not inside. For once.

Some thrill that felt oddly like freedom curled around him. Or was it rebellion? But how long had he been playing this game with her now? Waiting. Loitering in the grounds. Just on the off-chance. It was never an off-chance.

The rush that coursed through him when he spotted her — curled up on the ground, near a rose bush, her hair like a shadow-splashed coin — was so heady it dizzied him.

She glided to her feet. “Why are you here, Azriel?”

Something inside him seized, at the sound of his name, spoken on her lovely, melodious voice.

She walked forwards. “Why? Why are you here?” This time, the edge in her tone had given way to something else. A pleading.

If he reached out his hand, he thought, he could have had her body, so much more petite than her sisters’, flush against him. And then everything in the world would have melted away apart from the shape and the feel of her. The too-exquisite cloud of her scent that floated around him.

He remembered Rhys’ words. You are to stay away from her.

How terribly he had managed so far. Every day he was only sliding further downhill. And enjoying it so deliciously.

He was about to say, I thought we had an understanding. But of course, there was no understanding. No words about this had passed between them. It was something that was forming, half-knowing, between them both. And neither had the will to stop themselves. What if I lingered here? What if I went down this corridor? What if I allowed myself to look too long? What if I were to drive myself half-mad, searching for an excuse to touch you? “I…could not bare the thought of going to my bed.”

It was like someone else had said the words. He almost checked himself, as if to see that he were actually still master of his own body.

A small nod. And then, suddenly, with no warning, she stepped up, her hand covering the side of his face. “It has been this way for you too long, has it not?” Her thumb was stroking, backwards and forwards, across his cheekbone.

Immediately, he felt his shadows sing, his body begin to thrum with something keener than mere pleasure. Yes. Yes. He had caressed her neck just so, at Solstice. When they had nearly kissed.

The memory swirled in her eyes, too.

Stay away from her.

This feeling, this touch of hers. He could live in it. Eat from it, drink from it. Survive in it. This wildness. He would submit himself to anything for it.

“I have something for you.” A moment later, there was coldness were her hand had been, and she had drawn out something from the pocket of her skirts, holding it aloft.

“What is it?” The liquid inside was some purple-brown, shimmering fluid.

“It will help you sleep.”

“Ah.” He understood. “And I mustn’t take too much, I assume?”

She frowned. “It will not steal consciousness away. It will ease the unquiet inside you, that is all.”

How do you know? He stared into those doe-brown eyes, so large, considering all the different things he could say, and do. In his mind, he laid out the options, and weighed them up. The only one drawing him was the version of events where he dove down into the crook of her neck, and breathed in, open-mouthed, frantic, pulling in her scent; letting his teeth and tongue cover every single scrap of skin he could find. Instead, he said, “We need to stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“This. You know.”

A determined shake of her head. “I have made my choice.” He shook his head, trying to dispel the hazy image of Lucien; playing unsuccessfully with the idea of introducing more space between them.

“It is more than that.”

“Rhysand?” A noise of contempt left her.

He stared. Had she heard the entire conversation he’d had with him, in his office? It was possible. But then, there were other things. “How did you know?”

“Does it not occur to you…What if Rhysand were in your position? Can you imagine him obeying some order to stay away from my sister? No. Never.” She pushed closer, defiant. Heat radiated from her. The effort of not touching her was like sinking underwater, allowing himself to drown. Stopping himself from the urge to throw up his arms and gasp for breath. “I care nothing for his orders.”

This girl, who seemed so pure and innocent; who had been holed away for so long. And yet she seemed to have a more accurate grasp of the High Lord’s character than some who had known him years. “How do you know — all this?”

She made a light shrug. “My power rises in me, still. I see, hear, feel — odd things. But I keep seeing you. Your arm under your head, sheets back. You don’t even shut the curtains, now. You do not even try to close your eyes.”

She had been seeing…him? In his bed?

Before he had time to worry what else she had seen of him, she had grabbed one of his hands, thrusting the vial into his palm. By instinct, his fingers shut around the glass, clasping, too, the edge of her fingers. And then she was ducking her head, pressing a warm, firm kiss to the grotesque half-flayed skin that coated his knuckles. “Please.” Her beautiful eyes implored him. “For my sake.”

#my fanfiction #i have not written a fic in so long #and this one is angsty as hell #coming back to my roots #elriel #azriel #elain archeron #acosf

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queenofthefullmoon · 4 years

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An exhaustive list of Dark Souls 3 bosses I would or would not date

Iudex/Champion Gundyr

We’re starting off this list with a strong yes. Our boy Gundyr has had a hard, difficult life, and he deserves some good company. He’s tall, strong, and I trust him to protect us as we set a lovely camp site outside of the fire link shrine.

Vordt of the Boreal Valley

Vordt is big and he is feral which are truly the only two qualities I look for in a man. Together we’d be unstoppable. I mean, think about how easy it would be to go around with him: just climb on his back and let the rodeo begin, baby. This argument alone should be enough to convince you that Vordt is a suitable boyfriend, but here’s another one: if you get too hot in the summer, worry fucking not for your gigantic man can hold his equally gigantic hammer over you and cover you with snow like an italian man covering his pasta with parmesan.

Cursed Rotted Greatwood

Now while I’m certain it would be a perfect partner for some people, the Cursed Rotted Greatwood isn’t for me. For one, I am not fan of curses, or rot, or weird sticky balls, or strange orange acid, or pale white and slightly viscous hands bursting through a living tree. Secondly, I feel like the crowd of Hollows who group up around the tree would be a big impediment to our intimacy, and I’m not ready to be the mother of 20 Hollows.

Crystal Sage

No offense but you’d be an idiot for not wanting to date the Crystal Sage. All wrapped up in one package, you get a super competent sorcerer bf, who wears the coolest hat in the galaxy and an equally cool cape, and who overall looks like the upgraded version of a plague doctor. In addition to that he also has a pretty rapier so you can both engage in some sparring (which we all know is the most romantic couple activity).

Deacons of the Deep

Probably one of the worst options on the list, they’re all crusty, rotting men moaning around a biggass coffin. There are many technical questions. If I dated a deacon, would I have to date all of them? Can we go out on dates or are they obligated to stay next to the coffin at all times? Can I even date them at all?? Not that I would, because I have standards. The only pro to entering this relationship(s?) would be that I’d probably get one of their robes for free, but the cons are so numerous that I’d rather buy it myself.

Abyss Watchers

Let’s be real and honest even if it hurts. Would I date an Abyss Watcher? Yes. Maybe I’d even date two. However, would an Abyss Watcher date me? No, because they’re all in love with Artorias, and I can’t blame them for that.

Old Demon King

At first I considered dating the Old Demon King like a Russian Instagram model dates an old, rich American man: with a great deal of fake love but above all great patience in order to be the only person on the will. But then I thought about it more, and what does the Old Demon King have to offer, really? A big firework show that will leave him exhausted like the old creature he is, and maybe some pyromancies. Truly, it is not worth it, especially since I’d have to take residence where he lives, in a big old room filled with the corpses of his kin.

High Lord Wolnir

I’ve got nothing against Wolnir personally, but I have no interest in skeletons, nor in his army of skeleton children. As stated above I’m not ready to be a mother. I feel like if we got in an argument and he sighed, he would poison me with his awful breath and I would die a horrible death. Also, living on the brink of the Abyss doesn’t appeal to me that much. However I would like Wolnir to be a good friend I can talk jewelry with because let’s be honest, the man (skeleton?) is blinged the fuck out even in death and I respect that.

Yhorm the Giant

Yes, I would date Yhorm. He was nothing but a sweet, misunderstood giant who always tried to get people to trust him and he convinced me. I would put my life in his big hands. Think of the possibilities. Just like with Vordt he could carry you everywhere but in a less reckless way if you prefer proper manners. You’d never have to worry about not seeing anything at a concert. Also, may I add that waiting for you to show up while sitting on his biggass throne is an absolute power move? Yhorm is a Lord of Cinder, but above all, a Lord of this heart.

Pontiff Sulyvahn

Would I date him because of his appealing aesthetic? Yes. Would I date him for anything else? No. Sulyvahn is absolutely terrifying, completely unhinged in the most frightening way, which is that he doesn’t look bat shit crazy. I could be thinking that everything is going well in our relationship then suddenly he’d lock me in a dungeon then would feed me to his weird friend because I put a fork in the knife drawer. He could pretend to propose and give me a weird fucked up ring with his eye in it and the next thing I know I’d be running in a field on all fours. I don’t trust like that.

Aldritch, Devourer of Gods

I’m so sad about Aldritch because literally everything about him is completely unappealing, unacceptable, unnatural, unholy, abhorrent, but he has the delicate and beautiful face of Gwyndolin. While our lovely Gwyndolin looks gorgeous as ever it doesn’t make up for the fact that Aldritch devoured people and probably wouldn’t find love to be a good reason to not eat his partner. The only reason I can find to have a friendship (not even a romantic relationship) with him is if you really like experimenting with cooking and you really, really need someone to taste your inventions.

Dancer of the Boreal Valley

I feel attraction, which means that just like any other being who feels attraction, I would date the Dancer. She is beautiful, graceful, a bit feral, and would not hesitate to put a flaming knife to my throat, which is the description of my dream woman. Imagine walking the streets with her, trying to hold her hand while it dangles 3 feet above you and she insists on holding her sword, actually, so she might slay anyone who tries to approach you, which she communicates through icy breaths and murmurs. The date of a lifetime.

Oceiros, the Consumed King

Another awful choice on this list, Oceiros is RABID and also, as far as we know, still a married man. You really want to date a man that hasn’t even gone through his divorce but already looks like this? Me neither. I’m already not big on dragon fucking but the fact that he’s all viscous and has weird growths all over him is not helping. Also, he has children, and we know how I feel about that — although, given how he treats them, he probably won’t have kids very soon (too far?).

Ancient Wyvern

So I’ve stated that I’m not very big on dragon fucking. With that said, do I think the wyvern is sexy and beautiful? Absolutely so. You’re probably like « Blue you’re sending mixed signals, are you gonna date the lizard or not? » and to that I say, date? Perhaps not. I would however like to form a lifelong bond with this wonderful force of nature and fight by its side, live a long and fulfilling life travelling along with it, only to die at the same time atop the tallest mountain in the world, where our skeletons will be discovers hundreds of years in the future by brave explorers, who will confirm that the legendary songs that were written about us were in fact not just a myth.

Nameless King

You’ve just read what I said about the wyvern. I feel like the Nameless King really understands me and would respect me for that. We could bond over our love of dragons and other flying scaly beasts and perhaps share some chaste kisses while soaring the sky on our companions. It’s nice to date someone who loves pets as much as you. I feel like he would be a fun guy to hang around in general, maybe he’d let you braid his hair or try on his crown. He can arrange personalized fireworks shows for you with his lightning powers. I don’t think you’d ever be bored around him.

Dragonslayer Armor

Dating an empty suit of armor has never bothered me (see: ds2 Ruin Sentinels), however I have beef with the dragonslayer armor. Is it a beautiful armor? Perhaps a bit worn off, but the reply remains affirmative. However, it is controlled by Pilgrim Butterflies, which basically means I’m dating one to multiple of these things in the shape of an armor, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m not down for that.

Lorian Older Prince and Lothric Younger Prince

Here comes the delicate moment where we have to make a choice without offending anyone. I personally, speaking for myself, in my own opinion, would rather date Lorian. Reason: he is big, strong, and a bit rabid, which I’ve made very clear is my type. I don’t dislike Lothric, but I feel like we’d be better off as best friends who have a really snarky group chat where we shit talk the entire kingdom. That’s pretty good because if I even just slightly disliked Lothric I’m pretty sure Lorian would sense it and would not hesitate to murder me on sight.

Champion’s Gravetender and Champion Greatwolf

Well the full name is just a formality here, I’m not completely insane so I don’t want to date this rabid wolf. I feel like the Champion’s Gravetender is just a normal dude who’s a bit in over his head and it’s not his fault but he just seems a bit boring compared to all my other options. Instead of a date I think he’d be more of an awkward flirt I had when I was bored and then I came to my senses but didn’t know how to disengage, but in the end it worked out because he was more interested in his work anyway.

Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Again a choice has to be made and I will have to be predictable and say I’d date Elfriede. Just like Dancer she’s what the woman of my dreams is made of. She’s graceful and could easily take my life and I think it’s awfully sexy of her to be like that. I think I’d be accepted into the family pretty easily, which is important since Father Ariandel cares about Friede so much. I’d go visit him sometimes, play chess with him, bring him his flail, normal interactions with your girlfriend’s dad.

Soul of Cinder

I’m gonna be a tiny bit freaky here and say I’d date the Soul of Cinder. Dating it is just like opening a Kinder Surprise egg, you never know what you’re gonna get (sorry Americans for excluding you here). That makes life exciting and doesn’t let routine stall your relationship. Every day you can wake up with the question « What weapon will my darling walk around with today? The flaming sword, or the sorcery staff? » and be surprised by the answer. Truly ideal, but I understand it’s not for the faint of heart.

Demon Prince

I’m gonna go with a maaaaaaybeeeee? leaning towards no. I mean yes, the Demon Prince is a weird fleshy flaming demon, and that may be a bit gross, but I’ve gotta admit I admire his style, the drama of it all. The care he puts into his entrance, the attitude in his moves. If we don’t date I’d at least want to be friends so he can teach me his ways.

Darkeater Midir

I have very intense and contradictory feelings towards Midir. In one hand, holy shit, absolutely epic dragon, the spirit of companionship is growing in me. On the other hand, this beast is RABID and pretending I could tame him is foolish, and pretentious. I guess in the end the answer remains that I don’t date dragons, I just want to adopt them as my extremely exotic pets.

Halflight, Spear of the Church

Yeah I’d date Halflight, I know it’s the easy answer but look at him. I mean shit he’s walking around like a little thotty with his shirt open and you mean to tell me I’m not supposed to wanna date him because he looks pretty much like a regular dude? My boy Halflight WANTS me to date him or else he would not show up with his tiddies out to a sword fight, which as an activity already has enough erotic implications on its own.

Slave Knight Gael

I’m gonna say it unashamedly and I’ll say it again: I would date Gael. He’s been nothing but helpful and when he tries to attack you it’s to help his little lady that he’s adopted as his niece. We love a chaotic parental figure. Maybe he’s a tad bit old and dirty but there’s nothing a good bath can’t fix and I’m sure he’d appreciate having someone taking care of him for once. Again, he’s got that slightly unhinged quality to him that makes him delightful. When I walk around with my partner I want us to instill both fear and fascination in people which we would be able to accomplish perfectly well.

Dark Souls 1: Remastered date list // Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin date list

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meenah-chan · 3 years

Text

Requested by: @zimelu-eloni-nova-lycan (hope you see this since I can't tag you ಥ‿ಥ)

My apologies in advance if Malleus is OOC. Other than wanting to play TW and doing a bit of research of him, I know nothing 😂 I never thought of taking requests coz I'm a slow writer but it was quite interesting so I did it anyways. (And took daaays to finish 😂)

To Thine Own Self Be True

An OM! Brothers x GN! Dark Fae MC (slight OM! X Twisted Wonderland crossover)

5.47k words

Genre: flangst

Trigger warnings: self harm, violence, self depreciation? (cringe jk) Read at your own discretion.

"You're an incomplete puzzle... I hope you find your missing pieces." And thus, they were sent to someplace they didn't know...

They... have always been alone. But Y/N is not lonely. They have Malleus, a powerful yet caring brother. They have their grandmother, that even as busy as she is, tries to show her love as much as possible.

They are the only one they need. As long as they have them, they needn't anything else. Or atleast they think so.

"As a part of royal family, you have to broaden your horizon." But they think otherwise.

Before Malleus' departure for Night Raven College, he left Y/N a word, "You're an incomplete puzzle, Y/N. I hope you find your missing pieces." and that was months ago, and they were still confused by it.

Incomplete puzzle... It doesn't feel like they are. They are content of what they have. They capable of doing most tasks perfectly. They fulfill their responsibilities impeccably. It's not like they can't live on their own either. Having no friends and acquaintances but they're two family members is also fine. They don't need any more. No one who could stand their presence anyways.

The intimidating dark energy far more destructive than a fae possessed, in which Y/N could never control. Those menacing, sharp green eyes. Their skin as pale as the dead corpse, and lips charred black. But most of all, those pair of disgustingly sharp, black horns that keeps on growing back no matter how hard they try to get rid of it.

Y/N is the epitome of fear. They knew it more than anyone. If they were to be reckoned that way, it is better to maintain distance from everyone.

But I should fulfill my duty, atleast. They thought, fortifying their resolve as they stood before the future King of Devildom and his butler. "Welcome to Devildom, Y/N Draconia."

"It's an honor to be of your acquaintance, Prince Diavolo." Placing a palm on their chest, Y/N bowed.

As per the two Kingdom's agreement, they were to live in a safe place different from a lavish lifestyle they have been used to inside their gold plated walls. And thus they were led by the Future king's shadow, Barbatos, to their new home. The House of Lamentation.

House of Lamentation. What a gloomy and dreadful place, befitting a sinister being like me. they scoff.

But the sight the dark fae witnessed within that walls was not within their expectations.

"Beel! Don't eat the my wallet! H–Hey, I said let go! My goldie'll snap! B–Belphie, help me!" A white-haired man is pulling a leather wallet from the teeth of a bulky orange-haired one.

"Smells chicken mushroom oil." While the orange head kept their teeth sunk into the wallet almost ripped into two. "It's just a drop, stop going crazy over it!"

"Belphie, wake up! You promised you'll help me with clearing dungeons today! The raid will start anytime now!!" A violet haired male violently shakes an asleep man in blue but the man is far from dazed at all.

"Hrmm... Five more minutes—" "We have no more time!! I can't play with a missing player!"

A feminine faced guy appeared right in front of them, instantly invading their comfort zone and kept locking eyes with them. "Ohh? Who is this with you Barbatos? Ahh, The one moving in! You're quite early, darling. Ignore those bunch in the back and play with me?"

"Behave, you fools!!" A booming voice reverberates and in an instant, the rowdy bunch is silenced. "Such a disgrace..."

Except for one, who didn't make any ruckus until that very moment.

A bucket came flitting up in the air and in the next second, all of its contents all poured on the man who controlled the ruckus a while ago.

"SAAAAATAN!!" It was an utter chaos. This place far from the gloomy place they have in their imagination. It is filled with rabid demons that could obliterate them were they to join forces, and now Y/N have to adjust in this new environment.

"I see it's not a great time to introduce myself." Said Y/N, yet the only one who probably heard them is the butler beside them. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to know where my room is."

"As you wish, your Excellency. Allow me to lead you the way." The butler responded to them. They left the common room, where the rowdy ones moments ago, were trying to suppress the supposedly-most decent of the seven, from destroying the mansion.

Y/N usually do not receive a normal greetings on the events they've been into or more like, forced to come by either their grandmother or by Malleus. It could be the fairies either— gives them space with no one dare shorten the distance; reluctantly greet them before leaving them as fast as they could or; flat out ignore them.

Yet so far, the experience I have today is by all odds, the most insulting way I have ever been greeted. Y/N clasps their trembling hands as they sat on the bed.

I wish this will end sooner. This will be a hell for me...

Almost everyday is a crazy, eventful day. Far different than their everyday life in the Valley of Thorns, their homeland. First impression doesn't really matter to Y/N, but for some reason, they couldn't stand them since day 1. Sure, they haven't done anymore distasteful things like the rude way of welcoming them. Still, the members of the family are crazily weird in their own ways. And they hate it.

Lucifer is the eldest of the brothers. The one who leads the brothers and manage everything in place.

"As your family have wished, you were to live differently than you have thus far. So I won't exempt you with the cooking and housework."

"As a part of Royal family, I expect great things from you. I won't tolerate screw ups."

"Remember to complete your tasks. I am assigned by Diavolo to take care of you, so I will check on your activities throughout your stay here." He is an ass. A bossy and dominating dictator who think he could order a royalty like them.

But one time, when they entered his study, they saw a scene they never thought they'll ever perceive.

*Tak* A fountain pen falling from his gripless hand.

He was splayed on his desk filled with tall stacks of paper, out cold. Y/N didn't know they would witness such vulnerable side of such condescending demon.

So they chose to put off their business for tomorrow, placing his coat over him and letting him rest.

But the event didn't occur only once. Atleast twice a week of exact time before midnight, he's always been unconscious on his desk. That's when Y/N realized: he is not strict and short tempered for no reason.

As the eldest, he took it to himself to be the father figure to the brothers, all while perfectly doing his job as Diavolo's right-hand man. He fulfills his job with perfection. But perfection doesn't come without hardwork nor sacrifices. For the sake of his great responsibility he sacrifice himself, working so hard until he drop on his desk.

With thoughts of him made Y/N ponder over something.

Does having a father feels like having a Lucifer in my life? Maybe it is, they never knew since they never remember their's. He isn't as bad as they thought he were if they think it that way. That is praiseworthy, as they think so themself and deserve some respect.

No more stern expressions whenever speaking to him. Being more compliant if his instruction is reasonable. Thanking him even for a simple thing he does for them.

Soon, they noticed he doesn't nitpick them either and praise them for every job well done. The dark fae may still be annoyed with him but that's not a bad outcome at all.

And then there's Mammon, the second eldest, who is supposed to assist the eldest.

"Ye're a royalty right? So ye're loaded. I'm in a pinch right now so let me borrow from you." He leans on their shoulder, with his smug grin.

"Don't listen to that fool. It's past 200 years and he still haven't paid his debts to me yet."

"Shut up, you otaku!"

Behind violet-haired appears the black haired demon. "MAMMON..."

"EEK— W–Wait!! Lucifer, this is not wha–ACK—!!" Mammon is a scum. A rude demon who could care less of his words and language. Trouble is where he is. Even so, in his tough exterior, Y/N took note of a soft side.

Y/N saw him one time, poking at the mopping otaku demon outside his room. "Yo Levi. What you doin' there?"

"Just let me be... I lose my raid last time because I couldn't play... Now I can't even bear looking at my PC... No one would want to play to a no-show gamer like me..."

"Hmm... Then, it can't be helped. C'mon, your big brother Mammon will play with you!"

"R–Really..?"

"Yeah, Yeah. Let's play to your heart's content" He pulled him up and push him inside his room.

Consoling a sad brother, lending a helping hand when they need it. He may not look like it, but Mammon is also taking good care of his brothers. All the emotional support Lucifer fails to give his brothers, Mammon provides.

So before Mammon entered the room, the dark fae decided to tap his shoulder, earning his attention. "You really love your brothers."

"W–Wha... Where does... who loves—"

"That's really admirable." They promptly reach out a bottle of a jet-black faerie dust only they could concoct. Mammon gingerly took it from them and scanned the inside. "That may help you settle some of your debts. Then..." After giving the bottle, they went on their way.

"AAAAHHHH!! THIS IS ULTRA RARE!" As expected to a man who could appraise goods.

They remember Malleus from his caring side, they couldn't help but smile and commend the yellow demon. I miss my brother...

Leviathan on the other hand, has a different case. He is the third-born of that household. A timid person... At first glance, atleast.

They just can't understand him. He spoke in language they couldn't wrap their head around like, "LOL! ROFLMAO!", "Tss, normie..."

It is tolerable, at least. What they can't tolerate is the fact that,

"UUWAAH!! MY RURI-CHAN LIMITED EDITION COBALT PIN AND FIGURINE IS HERE!!" He is, by far, the loudest. His sudden and unexpected outbursts kept on triggering every jumpy cells in their system.

Leviathan is too hyped he seemed to enter his own dimension. He skipped through the corridor, he sung a Ruri-whatever song that is, until, "Ahh—" he made a misstep in the stairs, a few steps away from them.

Y/N dashed and caught them barely in time, with firm hold between his shoulder blades and another to his package, which should be flying right now but was pressed secured to his chest.

"You should be more careful or you'll hurt yourself. Your treasured package almost fell." They sighed.

"... An angel has descended." He stared at them in awe. As he move his hand to the box, he touched their hand. That's when their position fianally sinks in to him. His face flared beet red and in a few seconds blew a fuse, passing out right on the spot.

"... What a troublesome demon..." With no other choice but to bring him themself, he carried the unconscious Leviathan up to their room. After opening the door, what welcomed them is a messy room.

No, not messy. The room is filled with items and materials of all sorts. Tons of CDs, figurines and posters on shelves and walls. Stuff toys and pillows of all shapes and sizes. Hanged intricate costumes and clothes, which in just a glance, they knew is made with effort. Even pins, threads and needle atop a... Sewing machine? Did he made all of this?

Y/N took another glance on the other side of the room. There he saw three monitors with various programs registered. A game, video editor and a Photoshop... I wonder what else can this man do?

Is this what they call a hobby? Such passion and dedication in pursuit of doing what he loves... An unfamiliar feeling for this dark fae.

They... can't really understand this man. Not at all... But I can now see him in another light, I guess...

The one who sought Y/N first were Beelzebub, the sixth-born. A bulky, tall demon who loves to eat. They were having a snack on the balcony when the older twin sniffs his way in. Such action that freaked the dark fae out internally, considering the sight they witnessed when they first moved in. The fact that they saw a few times 'accidentally' eating inedible things doesn't helped at all either.

"I followed the smell from the kitchen. Your cake smells delicious!" The drooling giant stood by them, and they couldn't take another sip from their tea.

"Hmm... Help yourself." Or you may help yourself with my flesh if I didn't satisfy your hunger.

"Really?!" He sat oposite to them and within minutes, all the plates on the table were wiped clean. "That was delicious!... Ahh that's right. Y/N, why aren't you eating with us during meals?"

"I'm used to eating by myself."

"But why? Eating with someone make the food taste better." Y/N doubt that'll be the case if that someone is him, who could definitely eat them if his appetite cries its needs.

Beelzebub touched his chin, thinking. "Hmm... How about I eat with you during snacks time? I'll bring food you'll definitely like!"

"Ah—" And they lost their timing. His eyes sparkles like stars and the pure happiness in his voice made it impossible for them to refuse. They wouldn't know what he could do were they to decline what he desire.

Since then he would appear without fail during Y/N's snack time, sharing both of their food with each other.

They tried to slowly end such dangerous activity yet, the enthusiasm in his eyes whenever he eat held them back. In the end, Y/N conceded, increasing their baked goods everyday to sate the needs of the ball of sunshine before them– who could bring warmth or burn them. As a response he will also eat it all like it's his first time eating their goods.

He is a man of few words yet, also quite easy to read, especially when eating the sweets they made themself. A straight forward person who means just as he say.

He would even sometimes bring his other twin, who will eat a few bites before snoozing.

"Beel really likes you, you know..." They glanced from their teacup to the youngest, seating beside them as the gobbling twin is busy with his food.

Belphegor stares in an ever-drowsy eyes. He is the man they least interacted with. How can they? Whenever they see him, he is always asleep. And it's not like Y/N is interested in communicating with him or anyone at all. "He even does his research for everything he brings you here. I don't know if you knew, but he really want to convince you to eat meals with everyone."

"...Ehh? Why? We're not even..." Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Because he loves everything you make. He wants to talk to you ever since the first time you cook, but you're too antisocial to even eat with us."

"Says the demon who is always sleeping whenever I see him." Y/N snorts before taking a bite from the cupcake Beel brought. Hmm... this is good...

"...You, are you getting enough sleep?" Belphegor peers at their face.

"...None of your business."

"Whatever..." He frowns before burrying his face on his pillow.

What a keen observant. Y/N thought.

They've also been observing him since the first day. They share a lot of classes together and the dark fae knew, he is someone who rarely attend his classes, and whenever he does, he is always asleep. They also never saw him hold a book, much more read it. Yet, when they have exams, he finishes halfway the alloted time, almost the same time as them and sleeps after. The worst thing is that he could pass them easily.

He... is a dormant monstrosity. They conclude as they unlock the door to their room the day after. But before they do so, they noticed something.

Beside the door is an unfamiliar paper bag and inside... is a pillow, a bit caved it to the top center—similar to the one they use back to their home to be able to sleep well. It also comes with a note:

'The caneles and the stew is passable. You can throw away the pillow if you don't want it. Just know that it took me a great deal of effort to buy that.'

Really, what a frightening observant.

And there is Satan, the fourth-born, a pretty decent guy who craves for nothing but knowledge. If Y/N may say, he is the one they spend the most time with, though it's not that much.

"What are you reading?" Voicing not a word, they faced him the book cover.

"L’intelletto e Il Cuore... Hmm, that's a good choice." With at least 3 meters away from him, and few to no words exchange between them inside the library, it's not really that much.

He is a rational and intelligent man who respects personal space. Though, from time to time he would snicker eerily between the silence they have, holding either a cursed or homicide book. Creepy.

"What did you say...? The books you borrowed from me... Fell in the river? And it was washed away...?" And when he is angry, all his rationality is thrown out of the window.

"I–I will replace it I promise–" Pleads the peach-haired demon, kneeling before him.

"Replace, you say...? Didn't you know they were a Century membership gift to me from the Bibliomagicus Guild? Do you think that's replaceable...? Ha... Haha...HAHAHAHA!! THEN WHY DON'T YOU REPLACE THEM WITH YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE, HUH?!"

His wrath makes Y/N tremble, like all the bookshelves and books present in the library. Right, the books, the bookshelves. He'll destroy everything if this continues.

"Somnus Enim a Dum." So in a snap they cast a spell, amplified by their own dark pixie dust, and render him unconscious.

"Y/N!" That night he showed up in the library, frantically and still disheveled clothes and hair.

"Thank you. I don't know what would've happen if you're not there. And I also apologize you get to see that side of me." It's the first time they ever saw him smile without looking at the book. A smile similar to their brother.

"You're weird. You got so angry because of books that you'll ruin all the other irreplaceable books here."

"..."

"Don't mind it. I'd feel bad if the books are ruined."

"...Right." He chuckled, brushing his hair with his fingers and fixing his clothes to place. He then picked up the book he's reading, pulling the other sofa to sit beside them.

Now that's annoying. Nevertheless they let him. For they're a mere guest.

The fifth-born, Asmodeus, is not a problem back then. Having only a few occasional invitations for salon and parties, they could decline politely. But after the book incident, everything about his approach changes.

Since then, there was Asmodeus, everywhere!

In the classroom, in the library, in the music room, in the planetarium, in the balcony, in the bed, even the bathroom! He won't give them a break!

"Y/N~ I noticed you're always with Satan in the library. Are you getting along well? Beel too, you always bake and eat with him. That's so unfair! And you invite Belphie without me? Don't tell me you already like one of them?"

"If you'll choose one of us, shouldn't you choose me, the most beautiful demon of them all? I swear I can love you thousandfold than any of them, but... of course you can only be my second~~"

"What's with you and Lucifer? You always went to him every night. Is it a nightly endeavor? Hey~? Y/N, don't ignore me~!" He is a complete chatterbox. A motormouthed demon who don't know when to shut up.

But being with him comes with a few merits. Despite not looking like it, Asmodeus is a real gentleman. He maybe not as keen as Belphegor's capability to observe, but Asmodeus is an attentive and thoughtful demon. He does his everything to provide every small help he could give to them.

Whilst not needing help, it's much better than him being a clingy, dead weight. Y/N tries to look at the bright side.

"But this is tiring..." Y/N sighed, closing the book they are holding.

"Are you tired of reading? C'mon, let's go out and breathe fresh air!" I'm tired of you, you idiot.

"If you want to go out, you can go." The dark fae massaged their temple. It's been throbbing from time to time after that incident with Satan and Asmodeus bugged them.

"No! You've always been cooping yourself here or your room since coming here. You have to go out from time to time or you'll wither away!"

"You're so noisy Asmo. Y/N said they don't want to go." Asmodeus pout at Satan sitting beside Y/N, before pulling the dark fae out of the library and House of Lamentation.

"I'm telling you, I don't need this." Asmodeus holds 5 hangers of clothes, pondering which one fit them best.

"But~ It's such a waste for a beautiful person like you if you don't try dolling yourself up..." They stare at Asmodeus as if he just said the most ridiculous thing he could ever say.

"Don't tell me..." Asmodeus stared at them in disbelief, gasping dramatically like he always does,t "Y/N, YOU'RE GORGEOUS! DON'T EVER THINK YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE A DROP DEAD BEAUTY AND—" They covered his lips before he could even shout louder in such a public place.

He then pulled their hands off after a few moments. "And look! A bit of blush suits you! And black lipstick—" Y/N let him dressed them up— in exchange of shutting up. He chose meticulously, accenting every parts that they consider an abomination. A dizzying position they were in.

But the real deal has yet to come. What's worse than being bothered by a bug? More bugs...

"Asmo, are you nuts! You're hogging them all to yourself!" Mammon barged in their room as Asmo is applying makeup to them who gave up on him for a while now.

"Y/N couldn't come to our snack time because of you." Beel and Belphegor followed close behind, clearly unamused of Asmo's action.

"I haven't even got a chance to introduce them to the wonders of anime and games!" So do is Leviathan.

"They prefer reading in the library more, right Y/N?" Satan rest his back on the door frame, crossed arms.

"Excuse me? If I may say, Satan, Beel and Belphie are the one who took their time more than I!"

"YOU—" And their greatest fear since living in Devildom occurs. All hell broke loose. An all out brawl of the short tempered demons before them with all the six brothers, a thread away from transforming and blasting everything they touch. No... That's not it. Without transforming, they're already smashing everything into pieces.

The dressers. The desk. The chairs and mirrors. Everything but the bed they are sitting on.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE!" The last and the strongest of the brothers made his appearance, yelling in his most intimidating voice.

And they...finally snapped.

"Each and everyone of you... GET. OUT!!!" Such horror reflected on their eyes, with their whole being trembling uncontrollably. Tears poured down one after another. All of the emotions the brothers have never seen them make all spilled before them. As if a predator threatened to the end of their life.

On their hands...

were horns severed from their own head. The seven demons were so taken aback their bodies moved on their own to comply to Y/N's order... or more like, plead.

And the doors were completely closed.

They never left their ransacked room. They wouldn't open their doors to anything. No food, gifts nor even apologies. All but the brothers' words received a single response: "Malleus... I want my brother."

Hence the brothers and future king have no choice but to call him as soon as possible, or they will perish inside such place, alone like they've always been.

"Thank you for taking good care of my sibling. I hope you will continue so in the future."

"We also hoped we could. Yet considering the circumstances, I doubt they would want to stay here a second longer."

"Let—" but before Malleus could even finished his sentence, Y/N came flying down on him.

The distressed fae buried their face in their safe haven's chest. He then proceed carrying them in his arms, assuring them they are safe.

Lucifer led them to the music room, giving them privacy in their conversation.

"You've become so light, Y/N. And what happened to your horns?"

"...I wanna go home."

"Why? Do you hate this place?"

"I'm scared of them since the first day."

"That's understandable... But is that all?" Y/N stare at him in disbelief, while Malleus smiling softly at them.

"...Then what else... should I feel? I know I'm a monster... But that doesn't mean I could live with such monstrous demons! I'm just a monster with a weak heart!"

"Then you can blame it all on me. I'm the one who chose this place for you after all." All words were blown off Y/N's mind. The furrow between their eyebrows disappears as their face relaxes.

"Brother... But why?"

"I want you to realize your own self."

"..."

"Now answer me. You said you're scared of them, but do you hate them? Do you want to leave this place so badly? Is that really everything you've felt in this place?"

"Of course! I... I..." Y/N already knew the answer to his question, way before he even asked.

"They were annoying, noisy and self-centered bunch who does things as they pleased. They keep dragging me on their antics, I never had a peace of mind... I hated it, I despise it. I..." They bit their lips.

"I felt so frustrated! Why do they look so lively and happy despite being so unruly? They're always on each others neck yet they were having fun? Why?! And hobbies? How can they have such thing? I have nothing of sort! I just wake up day after day, desperately searching for something and fill this empty void inside me!"

"I fulfill my responsibilities without fail, on what cause? I have no purpose! Seeing that demons made me feel so miserable with my existence!"

They looked on their lap, holding back the tears on verge of falling. "What do they have that I don't? They're also the strongest, incredibly so that even I shook when they unleash their power! So why aren't they isolated like I am? How can they live a normal life unlike me?!"

"I think you already know the answer."

"...Because... They rely on each other. I never relied on anyone nor let anyone rely on me..." Malleus' smile widens when they hit the nail on the head.

"You're a strong person, Y/N. You won't even depend on us, not until today. You're capable of anything. You're just afraid of any more rejection, of being left behind." He paused and lift their face to meet his eyes, "Diavolo and others explained to me what happened. They said the incident frightened you. Yet knowing you, I doubt it is fear. Will you tell me why you blew off?"

"...I was overwhelmed. They were fighting over me. It never happened to me before so don't know what to feel. The attention was too much that I hated it. And I don't know how to respond to them..."

"So you brushed them off and isolated yourself." They nod weakly.

"And you snapped your horns to show them you're not who they think you are; to scare them off."

"Something like that..." Malleus smiled at them as he pet their head. "See? It's not bad being honest to yourself. Do you still want to leave, now that you let it all off your chest?"

Y/N shooked their head. "I want to stay."

"My Y/N is amazing... To surpass all the beings who estranged them. You're all grown up now." He held them in his arms, Y/N nuzzling onto his chest.

"Come on, they've been waiting for you for the longest time. You know what to do, right?"

"Yes." They left the room, Y/N clinging to him like never before. As childish as it seems, Malleus knew they grew a lot in just a few months of living in Devildom. It is indeed a great decision to choose the brothers to take care of them. They were no longer the incomplete puzzle he saw before he left for his studies.

"Y–Y/N..." Waiting in the common room are the seven brothers with Diavolo and Barbatos.

"W–We understand if you really want to l–leave." Mammon looked down as he clenched his fist.

"It was our fault." Leviathan followed.

"We've been insensitive, pressuring you despite knowing you're not accustomed interacting with a lot of people." Satan said with a serious frown.

"We even destroyed your belongings." Asmodeus glanced away, holding onto Satan's jacket.

"We'll make it up to you in any form."

"Y/N, sorry." Belphegor and Beel voiced respectively.

"It was due to my negligence you have to experience such incident. I also want to apologize." Lucifer held his palm to his chest for a slight bow.

"N–No!" Y/N strongly shook their head, "I should be the one to apologize! I'm so sorry!!" before bowing deeply.

"Y/N!? No, please raise your head—" Diavolo held Lucifer's shoulder to stop him like Malleus cued to let his sibling continue.

"It was all my fault! I've been a coward all this time. I was wrong for trying to push you all away when you don't mean harm. It was all my fault for venting all my frustrations to you. Please, if you would still allow it, I want to stay a bit longer."

"Y/N you are more than welcome here so please raise your head now. We don't deserve your apologies." Satan was the first one who walked towards them to raise their head.

"Y/N?!!" But as he did so, a crying Y/N appears in the brothers' view.

"This is the first time I will ever ask someone but," they sob and sniff, "will you guys be my friends?"

"Y–Yes, so please stop crying!" As conflicted as the brothers are, being asked such question that could hinder their future plans with them, they were forced to agree to their wish instantly.

Let's leave it for another day... The same phrase runs in the thoughts of the brothers, a very rare occurence to happen once in a millenium.

With Asmodeus' lead—he, Mammon, Leviathan, and Beel wrapped their arms around them to console the crying faerie. Lucifer, Satan and Belphegor stood a feet away from them, watching the five in the middle.

As things calms down, they decided to sit on the same dinner table for the very first time. Food were served by Barbatos, who prepares who knows when. He could actually have predicted such outcome for all they know.

The place were so warm, and lively. "This tastes wonderful." That's an understatement. The food have the richest taste than everything Y/N ate in their entire life. "You're right, Beel. Food were best eaten with someone." Beel have them a toothy grin. "I'm glad you get me."

After the meal, Y/N fell asleep on the spot. "Hehe, they're so carefree now." Belphegor played with their fringe. They didn't woke them up and instead carry them in a new room, letting them have the deep sleep they couldn't have for days.

"Congratulations, for being Y/N's first friends. I'll leave them in your care." Malleus bid his farewell to everyone, not bothering of waiting for Y/N to wake up. "I also hope this incident will be the last one."

"Yes, we won't let such thing happen again, and ensure a comfortable life for Y/N throughout their stay here." Diavolo answers in stead of everyone. The brothers are not in the shape to reply as they absorb Malleus' first sentence.

First friend. Such a bitter-sweet word. Whether the word stings them or not, it doesn't matter. It won't stop the brothers from trying to achieve the same goal as subtle as possible.

And so, a not-so-obvious scramble goes on.

This took longer than I expect 🤣😂 In all honesty, it was quite challenging, making a blatant All Brothers x MC. I also don't have a plot and flow until I actually wrote it sksksk dunno if that's a good or bad thing 😂🤣 and this was the longest one I wrote for the past half a year.

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Honey & Whiskey [Pt.1]

Pairings: Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Summary: Falling was sweeter than honey and warm as whiskey.

Warnings: None for this chapter. Typical A/B/O dynamics.

A/N: I know I am your dealer for soft Bucky but I’m trying out some new product. Soft Billy Russo. Just take a little taste. I promise It’s worth it. This is largely a self-indulgent fic and also for my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

You heard his car in the driveway before you caught the sound of the front door. This probably wasn’t the way to handle something like this. Prominent families didn’t behave like this. They didn’t cause a scene, and they certainly didn’t question a match this good. It was hard enough to find an Alpha that came from a good family, but one who wasn’t a complete knothead and genuinely cared for you? That was next to impossible. You managed to find that one in a million, and here you were pulling a stunt like this.

When you were a little girl, you read stories about the princess finding her prince, being saved from the tower, and living happily ever after in a big castle. So, you waited for your very own to come. You waited and waited by your window, but your prince never showed. You stayed locked in your tower with no sign of a savior. As you became older, you realized you didn’t want to be rescued, taken from one dungeon, and moved to another. You could take care of yourself without an Alpha there to defend your heart and fight the evil queen on your behalf.

Turned out you could handle her on all on your own.

Then you met James one evening at a friend’s wedding. He was sweet. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a charming crooked smile. He offered to buy you a drink and didn’t flinch when you reciprocated with the second. It was easy with James right from the start, and your parents were thrilled. They were simply over the moon. He came from a long line of senators, and his family were members at the club where your father plays golf. Everything was perfect. It was all working out the way it was supposed to, and in one short week, you would be married and bonded to James.

In the two years you’ve spent together, James has done everything he could to make you happy, not once has he abused his authority over you or made you feel as if you were less than him as his Omega. James has never given you a reason to fear him. Everything on the surface was perfect, but if you looked close, the cracks were easy to spot. Your heart had never had cause to race when he was near, and you never did learn what it would feel like to go weak from his touch.

It was doubtful you would ever know what it would be like to tremble from the brush of your Alpha’s fingertips. The odds you would find that love in this lifetime were slim, but if you stayed where you were, there would be no chance.

“Uh, Y/n…’ James stopped in the doorway to your shared bedroom and looked fairly amused, albeit confused by your attire. “What’s going on? Isn’t this bad luck?”

You glanced down at your wedding dress and grimaced. It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t beautiful, it was. It wasn’t you, though. It was huge for starters. Your mother had insisted this was the one from the moment it graced your frame. The skirt was so large you weren’t sure you would make it into the limo Saturday morning, and the bodice and lace sleeves were covered in so many crystals it felt like you were carrying an extra thirty pounds of glitter. This wasn’t the dress you pictured when you spent your days playing princesses in your bedroom, and all of this felt wrong.

You looked back up at your fiance, who was by your side in an instant when he saw fresh tears falling down your cheeks. James quickly wiped them away with only his thumbs. No tender kisses brushed them away, his touch was gentle but not in a way that soothed the restlessness in your soul.

“Do you feel something seeing me in this? I mean, really feel something? Because I don’t feel anything when I put it on. I’ve been trying so hard to feel something, anything but... I don't."

James tossed his keys on the dresser and stuffed his hands in his pockets now that he realized what this was. It wasn’t a simple case of cold feet or some cute moment you were going to bring up at the rehearsal for a quick laugh during toasts. He didn’t look mad, he was disconcerted, and you couldn’t blame him for that.

You didn’t fully understand why yourself, so you couldn’t expect him to.

“Okay. What is this, baby? What’s going on?”

As good and kind as James was, it wasn’t there.

“I’m not in love, and I don’t think you are either.”

The confirmation you needed flashed in his eyes. He didn’t feel it either. You stepped forward and held your hands out for his. James placed his hands in your hands without any hesitation, his fingers tightened around yours the longer the silence stretched between you. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when his eyes opened again, there was something different about them. They were filled with acceptance and a little bit of relief you knew he wouldn’t want you to see.

“I do love you, and I would take care of you,” James offered as if he was giving you one last opportunity to change your mind. One more chance to do the right thing.

You kissed his cheek and pulled your hand back from his hold, leaving the three-carat oval cut diamond resting in his palm. People lived that lie every day. Your parents, James’s parents, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was the foundation on which most of the marriages you knew were born. Its prevalence among your social status was hefty and typical, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

It wasn't a lie you could spend the rest of your life telling.

“I know, but I want more than that. I want to feel it.”

-----------

“Okay, May. I am out of here,” You chirped. It had been a long, exhausting day. You worked a double shift after one of the other waitresses, an Omega, called out claiming she was in heat, but this was her third heat in four months. It was entirely possible that she was being truthful and not using her designation to get extra days off so she could play house with that Beta she’s been dating since Halloween. Maybe she was a medical marvel, and her heats really did come three times as often as every other Omega on the planet.

All you knew for certain? Your bed was calling your name, and you could not wait to get out of this diner.

“The rush seems to have died down, and I am dead on my feet, so I’m leaving before we get the late dinner crowd, and you beg me to stay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Always complaining,” May teased with a grin and a motherly gleam in her eye. “Take your cut from the tips, and then I want you to eat and get some sleep. You can come in for the dinner shift tomorrow.”

“You gonna clear that with Roger?”

May rolled her eyes at the mention of your boss; Alpha and every bit the knothead prick.

“I’ll deal with him. Don’t you worry about it.”

"Hey, Y/n.” You glanced at Karen, who had a taunting smirk making her pale cheeks flush, she was pointing to the far back of the diner with her order pad, and she mocked with a teasing grin, “Look who it is! Your boy arrived just in time to see you off."

Your eyes followed her bright purple pen, and your knees went weak the moment you laid eyes on him. You didn’t know he was coming tonight. It’s been four days since you last saw his pretty face (not that you were counting or anything!), and you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until that moment. The handsome, dark-haired Alpha was sitting at one of your usual tables and looked uneasy, his leg was bouncing up and down at a vigorous pace, his dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, and he was wringing his hands together as he scanned the small diner for you -- what you hoped was for you anyway.

"Don't get any ideas about that, Alpha." May Parker huffed.

The older Omega was a little cynical from the cards life had dealt her, and from the second you showed up looking for a job, she took it upon herself to look after you the way a mother would. It wasn't as if your mother had any interest in your life at the moment, not after you embarrassed her and left a black smear on your family’s name. A mark didn’t suffice for the choices you made. Your actions affected everyone in the family, bled onto the very fabric your ancestors stitched together, and made a tear that thread and needle could never mend. Apparently, you should have married even though you weren’t in love and simply found a way to fall in love with James after vows and rings were exchanged.

At least May understood your choice, and you couldn’t blame her for the fire in her eyes and the ice in her touch when it comes to Alphas; life had not been kind to her. Despite losing her true mate at a young age, only to end up with a sad stand-in for the man she lost. He abused his designation and using it to control her and her son. It took years to rid herself of him, but she built a nice life without him. She obtained assistance from an Omega Shelter, went through therapy to break their bond, and even bought a place of her own. Even after all the good that has come over the last seven years, the clouded memories have left her jaded and wary.

"You need to find someone that will take care of you, and he's not it. You stay away from Billy Russo, you hear me? He's not a good Alpha. I’ve known him longer than you have.”

That was true. You’ve only been in the city for eight months and working at Sunrise Diner for seven. Billy was a customer long before you came around, but according to Karen, he would pick up an order to go, barely spoke to anyone, and never tried to get a table. May didn’t know him any better than you did. It wasn’t as if they had some long-standing relationship or history. You were grateful for the advice, but you could make your own judgments.

You’ve let someone else be your eyes and voice for far too long, and you weren’t about to allow yourself to repeat past mistakes.

Billy finally found you standing behind the counter, and the second your eyes locked his own lit up, his legs settled, and the smile on his face just about knocked you over. Your smile widened as you stared at each other for what felt like ages.

"Y/n, are you listening to me?” May snapped her fingers in front of your face, forcing your eyes to focus on her. “He's trouble. Ex-marine with more issues than one person can handle."

You tossed your apron under the register in the black bin that held all the dirty smocks for the night. You glanced at your reflection in the silver napkin holder, resting in the order window and swore under your breath. Your hair’s frayed and sticking out every which way, and your lip gloss faded the first hour into your shift. It was too late to do anything about that now. Not with May watching your every move and Billy sitting so close, his eyes trained on you now that he found you.

Having Billy watch you fix your lipstick because he came in would be an embarrassment you wouldn’t survive.

"That's why he should have someone he can lean on. We are friends. I have a feeling he needs someone that won’t judge him for a past he can’t change.”

"Trouble,” May huffed. “You're asking for trouble."

You practically skipped over to the table Billy sat at. Same one as always. The booth at the far back of the bright restaurant where he had a view of the bathrooms and the front door. He always sat with his back against the wall, and every few minutes, his eyes wandered over to the exit door on his right. You didn’t know what happened, but you knew it was enough to keep him on edge at all times.

"Hey, Stranger."

Billy's near-black eyes looked brighter now that you’re near, and he gave you that toothy grin that made your stomach flip.

"Hey, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

Billy has called you that from the moment you met, you weren’t sure why, but it made your heart race every time it rolled off his tongue. You have to admit you didn’t hate the feeling.

"You haven't been in for a few days. I was starting to think the mac and cheese scared you off."

That wasn’t really true. Though, you did question the state of the mac and cheese on a regular basis. The way the noodles all stuck together in that round ball wasn’t natural. This was more about you than sticky elbow pasta goop. You were slightly worried that he may have started seeing an Omega and would no longer be coming by for these late-night visits. Not that it was any of your business. It’s not as if you’re bonded or even potential mates. You haven’t spent a moment with Billy outside this diner. You had not an ounce of claim on him, and you certainly didn’t have a say in who he spent his days with -- or his nights.

Billy let his hood fall back, and he ran a hand over his buzzed hair. His scars were no longer as angry and red as they were when he first came in on that rainy Tuesday afternoon seven months ago. You can still recite every word he said to you that day like some silly school girl daydreaming about the cute boy in study hall. Some nights you did just that, on evenings when he didn’t come by or stayed far too late and left your heart aching for another ten minutes.

Scars or no, he was still the most handsome Alpha you had ever seen.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I, uh, it's been a tough few days is all, and I haven't had a second to come in."

You eyed him for a long minute, and you realized what he meant by a tough few days. More like it smacked you right in the face -- rut.

Did he share his rut with someone?

No. No, probably not.

Billy didn’t seem to give his trust freely, so you doubted he called a Service Center to help him through his rut. That didn't mean he didn't have an Omega in his life, one he trusted enough to share it with. It shouldn’t matter if he did, so why did you want to know so badly? It would be easier if you could simply scent him to find out. That’s what you wanted to do. You were aching to scent him right there in the middle of the damn diner in front of Karen, May, and anyone else that wanted to stare. You wanted to be sure there wasn’t a hint of another Omega anywhere near him, maybe leave a little bit of you on him.

What the hell was wrong with you?

You’ve never been this possessive before. Even with James, you never cared if he came home smelling like another Omega. Hell, you never gave it a thought. Billy wasn’t yours, and you needed to remember that.

"I’m glad you’re back. I missed you."

Billy tried to fight off his grin. He tried hard, but it still showed up brightly enough to make you simper. He must have liked that because his scent sweetened, and it was so thick it had your knees shaking. You stood up as straight as you could and locked your knees. Letting your legs give out over some handsome Alpha like a stereotypical Omega would be a shame you could never come back from.

"Is that right?" Billy drawled, smirking as he took in the tremble in your knees and the honey sugaring your scent.

"Yeah, you're my favorite customer,” you answered with a slight shrug. Billy chuckled and ducked his head to hide the pink spreading from his cheeks down his neck, but you caught the rosy hue regardless.

"Favorite." He recited the word as if he didn't like the way it tasted on his tongue like he was confused as to why you would use that word in association with him.

"Without question,” you assured him.

The hesitation in his eyes and confusion had your heart breaking. Someone along the way, recently or long ago, made him feel as though he wasn’t worthy of being someone’s favorite, of being that important to someone. The thought made your gut clench in the worst way. Billy was more than deserving of that title.

"So, I'm about to get off. My shift actually ended about ten minutes ago. Well, technically, my shift ended at two, not eight, but one of the girls is out making medical history, so here I am."

"Oh,” Billy murmured. He was disappointed, that was plain to see. The light in Billy’s eyes instantly faded, and he began to slide out of the booth. You had a feeling if he left now, he would end up picking tacos off the dollar menu at some fast-food chain, eating all alone back at his place. You couldn’t have that now, could you? Besides, friends have dinner together all the time. Isn’t that what Karen told you every time she had dinner with Frank?

Yes, friends could have dinner together, and it didn’t have to mean more than noodles and cheese.

”I can- I'll go eat somewhere else. I don’t want to keep you if you’re going home.”

You rested your hand on his shoulder to keep him from sliding out past you and shook your head, still smiling down at him. "Oh, no, you don’t. Unless you want to leave, of course. Food here isn't great."

Billy looked up at you, and his eyes have gone dark again, but it wasn’t in the way you liked. He was struggling to figure out what he wanted to say. You could see the moment Billy gave in to whatever it was, he was wrestling with and confessed, “I don't come here for the food.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore you could hear it in your ears. No doubt, Billy could pick it up in your scent. You never considered buying suppressants until you met Billy Russo. Then again, there were a lot of things you never considered until you met him. You blew out a shaky breath, and your words came out in as a stuttering mess, "Then… w-why do you come h-here?"

Billy held your gaze but didn’t elaborate further. It was probably for the best. If he had said what you thought could be the reason you might have melted right there at his feet and would have been forced to quit your job citing irremediable humiliation.

"Okay, um, well, I maybe thought I could eat with you? I haven't eaten since this morning, and I've been working all day, so I’m starving."

Billy frowned at that, and he quickly pressed for more, "You haven't eaten all day? So, that means you worked all day without taking a break?”

"Yeah, it happens. Some days it's really busy, and I don't get a second. Roger, our boss, he’s not great at following labor laws. If things get busy like they were today, there is no way he’s letting me take a break.”

If it was possible, Billy’s eyes blackened, and his normal candied scent turned sour. It was a subtle change to the whiskey and brown sugar scent you’ve come to know. He wasn’t on blockers, nor were you, it made his feelings easy to read. You weren’t sure he liked that fact at the moment. The scrunch of his nose and the wrinkle in his brow said he was trying to control his feelings to keep them hidden from you, or maybe he was attempting to understand whatever feeling was jumbled in his head.

“I don’t-- I don’t like that. You should be getting breaks so you can eat. You have to eat.”

You didn’t like it either, but there was little you could do. You had no way to prove that Roger refused to let you take breaks, and it wasn’t like he said he would fire you if you went on break. It only was heavily implied, and he knew when to use an Alpha command, with the tiniest drop in his voice, he had Omegas scampering to do as he wished. Thankfully, you have yet to be on the receiving end, and you had no intention of experiencing it. You needed this job whether or not Billy approved of your break schedule. You couldn’t do anything about Roger or your schedule, but you might be able to fix Billy’s spoiled mood and catch another glimpse of his pretty smile.

"How about you feed me then?" You suggested with a grin.

Billy’s frown quickly faded into a crooked smirk, a gentle chuckle followed, and everything turned sweeter. Whenever Billy was smiling, there was a little more sugar and a little less whiskey floating nearby, and it often left your head spinning for days after. You’ve never been one to fall for a sugar rush over a whiskey high -- until now.

"Okay, Sunshine. I can do that. Do you want to eat here or somewhere else?"

"Where are you most comfortable?"

"Where am I most comfortable…” Billy repeated the question, brows furrowed in thought, and he responded without thinking, “I’m most comfortable when I’m with you."

Billy quickly realized that was not what you meant when he looked up to see your eyes widen. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter as he tacked on an addendum, hoping you would ignore his first admission. "Nowhere that’s loud. Or, um, crowded. I’m not great in large rowdy groups. I need a place I can sit like this. My back against the wall and know my exits."

You knew that already and now you were mad at yourself for making him admit it out loud, but you had to confess not all of his revelation sounded so bad.

"I'll tell you what I live right around the corner. How about you come over, and I'll make you dinner?"

Inviting an Alpha you barely knew back to your place wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done. Everyone knows, Omegas at least, you never tell an Alpha your address until you’re courting, and you know what kind you’re dealing with. You couldn’t explain why but your heart and your head were telling you to trust him and when they agree on something you listen.

“You want me to come back to your apartment?”

Billy seemed to be questioning your judgment, but nothing felt wrong about having Billy in your home.

“Only if it will make you feel more comfortable. If not, I know a pizza place a few blocks away, but we will have to catch a cab.”

You truly didn’t mind either way as long as Billy was comfortable. He took a few thoughtful seconds before he nodded. “Your place is okay. If you’re sure, you want me to know where you live.”

You grinned and stepped back so he could stand. “Let me grab my purse, and I’ll meet you by the door, okay?”

Billy didn’t have a chance to answer because you were bounding off towards the counter and the group of nosy Omegas watching you both with interest. Billy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, watching you share a few hushed whispers with the older woman behind the register.

“You’re leaving together? Y/n, this is not a good idea. Why can’t you stay here together where we keep an eye on you? It would be safer that way.”

“I said I’m fine. I don’t need you to look after me just because I’m an Omega. I can handle myself, and I can handle Billy.”

“He’s not what you think. I only want you to be careful.”

You jerked your jacket out from under the counter and slipped your arms into the black puffy arms. You were already done with this. She didn’t know Billy any better than you did. Maybe she saw some things, or he came off like a typical asshole Alpha once when they first met, but the only conversation they have had revolved around grilled cheese sandwiches and you. You stopped in front of May, and you couldn’t keep the ice out of your voice even if you had wanted to. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s not what you think? I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, May.”

Billy glanced over your shoulder and back at you as you approached. “Everything alright over there?”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged as you stepped out the door Billy was holding open for you. “Co-worker drama.”

There were tiny bits of moonlight shining down on the sidewalk next to you. It was awkward at first. This wasn’t your normal dynamic. Billy came in and ordered the same grilled cheese and fries every night; not that you could blame him for that, it was probably the only edible thing on the menu. You would make some cute comment about melted cheese and Billy would give you that smile that set skin on fire, he left a tip that was always triple the cost of the tiny sandwich and promised to see you real soon. You knew the risks that came with what you were doing. You are breaking the first rule they teach you in Orientation class, but you didn’t care, and it didn’t scare you.

Billy didn’t scare you.

“You know you really shouldn’t invite Alphas you don’t know back to your apartment. It’s not safe. I could be anyone. I could be some asshole Alpha using that sweetness in your heart to take advantage of you.”

Maybe that was the thing that should scare you -- your blind trust for an Alpha you barely knew.

“No, you’re not, Billy.”

“Yeah? How do you know that, Sunshine?”

Billy was teasing you, the mile-wide grin on his face told you so. You shook your head and matched his smile. The answer was pretty simple, really. It was the one thing missing with James. You felt the tension in your shoulders lift, and you told him the only thing about tonight that mattered.

“I can feel it.”

Masterlist // Part 2

#Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader #Billy Russo x reader #Billy Russo x you #Billy Russo x yn #Billy Russo #A/B/O au #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!billy #alternate universe

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