#I dunno I just wish there was more room for this kind of character | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miintsprigz · 3 months

Note

Hi again!! Was wonderin if ya could do some hcs of Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engi, and Medic with a reader who loves to give and show them drawings they made, but gets pretty nervous when they watch them draw? If this isn't exactly yer cuppa tea or you just genuinely do not know how to write this, feel free to just ignore this request:]

Hope you have an excellent day/night/evening/afternoon/noon!!>:DD

Ah, I think I recognize you there! Good to hear from you again. I’ll give it a shot!

GN! Shy Artist Reader x Mercs

Characters: Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engineer, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: None

Scout ⚾️

• The two of you tend to draw while you hang out, just chatting in the meantime.

• He absolutely adored your work, and loved watching you make it.

• But when you pulled your sketchbook to your chest quick, he seemed confused.

• “Hey! You good?” “Yeah, I uh…I just feel weird when you’re watching me draw.” “Huh? You don’t gotta feel embarrassed, doll!”

• “…You know when you tried to pull off a jump while Spy and Demo were watching the other day…” At this reminder, Scout gave you a teasing scowl—not genuinely mad, just embarrassed remembering that.

• “Ah geez—yeah, if they hadn’t spooked me by starin’ at me like a buncha creeps—oh.” “You get it now?”

• He got…a little confused. “Am I makin’ it worse? Aw man, I’m sorry—” “No, no! I just—that awkwardness? Yeah.” “Ohhh, I think I gotcha…”

•Scout, uh, scooted over on the bed a little and eventually sat back down with his back against yours. “There. This’ll fix it!” Both of you erupted into laughter.

•In all seriousness though, he respected your wishes. He keeps everything you make for him in his room, aside from a small doodle or two that he carries on him to work at all times…awww.

Pyro 🔥

•You and Pyro lay sprawled on the floor, with a can of colored pencils and a box of crayons respectively.

•They’re actually quite good when it comes to color, pairing different hues together. It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re drawing, but sometimes you can faintly make it out.

•You suddenly felt eyes very intently locked onto you and jerked your head up.

• “Hm??”, came through the mask, muffled. “Uh…could you um…”

•They did that curious little head tilt, tenderly reaching for your hand. If you needed to tell them something, they wanted to make sure they heard it!

• “I feel nervous when you watch me draw. I know it’s silly, but—” “Ah!” Genuine surprise from the masked figure. They’d had no idea.

•Immediately, there were muffled apologies from under the mask, quickly hugging you. “Hey hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I just figured I should tell you. You’re okay, Py.”

• “Mmph?” “Yes, dear. I promise.” Giggling a little now, they pulled their free hand over the eyeholes of the mask like a visor, blocking you from view. You chuckled along with them.

•Later on, as the two of you shared drawings, you made out a familiar visage—that of you, with a couple bright red hearts drawn nearby. “Hehe, I love you too.”

Sniper 🏹

• Mick didn’t often watch you draw, honestly. The two of you tended to do your own thing in the same space, talking occasionally. Even that was enough.

• Once you caught him watching on what was kind of an off day though. You kind of just stared back up at him.

• Sniper cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d ya stop?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked off to the side.

• You felt the bed next to you sink down a little as he moved closer. “Hey. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?” His voice was softer, more cautious. “…cuz ya know, I’d like to hear that.”

• Shuffling a bit to get more comfortable next to him, you sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…I feel weird when people watch me draw.” “Yeah?”

• You nodded. “Kinda see what ya mean, I guess. Ya think they’ll judge the work-in-progress?” You silently agreed.

• A slight smile brightened his features. “Well, dunno if it helps, but I know a lil better, love.” His shoulder brushed against yours as you moved a bit closer.

• “I love everythin’ you make. And I know that you know what yer doin. But…if you’re more comfortable with me not lookin’, I get that too. That’s fine.”

• He went to move away, but you quickly clasped his shoulder softly, indicating that he could stay. “Maybe, I could try to keep going?” A laugh broke through as you admitted, “Besides, I like sitting next to you.”

• Humming contently, the Aussie planted the briefest of kisses on the top of your head. “Arright, darlin. You just lemme know.”

• As you kept working on that page, you did notice when he was watching, and it wasn’t easy, but after that he would have periods of staring off into space instead.

• There was a conciseness to it. He’d taken what you’d said to heart. Still, though, he seemed happy…and you were, too.

Engineer 🔧

• Dell had gathered quite a collection of your art by now, kept it on the wall of his workshop. He showed it off proudly to anyone who happened to enter, even if visitors tended to be few and far between.

• One night, you kept him company as he worked overtime on a new design for a model. While he worked, you did too.

• After a while though, you could tell someone was looking at you. As your gaze lifted, you caught him sneaking a peek from his desk, right next to the table where you sat.

• “Aw, did I break yer focus there? Sorry, honey.” “No no, it’s okay, Engie…I could put it away for now anyway, if you want something—”

• “No problem, (Y/N)! You can keep right on with that if ya like.” A somewhat sheepish smile came to your face.

“Hey, Engie…can you keep a secret?”

• “Mmm?” “…I get sorta nervous when people watch me draw.” A knowing sort of smile slowly crossed the Texan’s face, sliding his goggles up to rest on his forehead for a moment.

• “You wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

A nostalgic sort of thoughtfulness crept into his voice. “I used ta be the same way.”

• “Really?” You never pictured the mellow, easygoing Engineer to ever be self-conscious in that way.

“Yup.”

• “People would ask me all sorts a’ questions while they watched me build. ‘How ya gonna make that work?’ ‘What’s that do?’ ‘Why’d ya put that there?’ Drove me crazy. Part of the reason I got a shop, I s’pose.”

• He held a spare nut and bolt, twisting them together and apart as he talked, somewhat absentmindedly. Eyes wandering a bit, but always making their way back to you.

• “But here’s somethin’ I think you oughta hear, although I’d never try ta make ya change. Your work is yours, darlin’. Yours and yours alone. Ya make such beautiful things. I’m not askin’ myself what you’re doin’ when I watch, cuz I already know.”

• He put the fidget aside and reached for your hand with a sweet smile. “Why do you like to watch me work?”

• You could feel your face redden just a bit, and grinned at the floor for a moment. He chuckled at this, in a lighthearted way though. “Cuz it’s really cool how you make everything work, and how smart you are with your designs.”

• “Yep. That’s why I like watchin’ you work. Own the process, (Y/N). It’s all yours. You know exactly what you’re doin.”

• “Thanks, Dell.” “Of course, honey. Of course.” From that moment onward, it seemed like he tried not to watch for too long, but when he did, you remembered his words. And it didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking then.

Medic 💉

• Medic absolutely loved to watch you draw. It was fascinating to him. Seeing how giddy he got, it took you a while to work up the guts to tell him.

• “Is something wrong, Liebe? You’ve been stopped for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh…Medic, I wanna tell you something, but it’s weird.”

“Oh?”

• “I uh…I feel kinda…nervous, I guess? When people watch me draw.”

“…might I ask why?” He seems genuinely perplexed by this. “I think it’s fascinating.”

• Yeah, yeah he would. You weren’t sure how to explain this to him—you knew for sure that he didn’t mind when people watched him at work, he operated on fully conscious people!

• You sighed softly, unsure of how to make this make sense to him. A hand rested on your shoulder for a moment. “(Y/N), I can see this means a lot to you. And as much as I love watching you at work…I love you even more. So I’ll stop doing that.”

A smile crept up on you, glancing back up at him.

“I appreciate it a lot, love. Sorry I can’t put it into words.”

“No need to be sorry! But…I do have one request.”

“Yeah?”

• A sheepish sort of smile came to the doctor’s face. “I can…still see the finished product, right? And maybe, instead of me watching, you could tell me how you put everything together?”

“Of course! No problem.”

“Ah, wunderbar!”

I’ve been very tired lately so I’m sorry this took me so long, and that it’s sorta short/repetitive. I appreciate your patience!

#tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 pyro #pyro tf2 #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 sniper #sniper x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 engineer #engineer tf2 #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #tf2 medic x reader

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artsekey · 11 months

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so what do you think of the newly minted game and its community who are speedrunning the development of ICBMs to save... Hyrule? I dunno at this point.

Ohh, that's honestly a tough question! I've been a Zelda fan for about a decade now, so I've seen the series go through a lot of changes. In my opinion, ToTK is a happy marriage between Skyward Sword (which was my favorite Zelda game until ToTK) and Breath of the Wild (which I... really did not enjoy because it was such a staunch departure from the Zelda formula).

But Tears of the Kingdom addressed every single qualm I had with BoTW, really! The first major improvement I noticed was the music, which is also very important to me. There are some tracks from ToTK that I CANNOT stop listening to:

youtube

And the story was much improved, both in how impactful it was and how it was delivered.

I still wish they made Link a little bit more expressive and gave him more character, though. Wind Waker and Skyward Sword have so much charm due largely in part to how we see Link react to things, and it was really jarring to see him just kind of... neutral about everything, constantly. It does give the player a lot of room to project, which I obviously do via the comics I create, but I think it's something I'd like to see them change moving forward.

I'm mid about the building mechanics. They're cool, but I think the game would've been just as much fun without them (for me personally). Fuse, on the other hand? Love it! Definitely made combat more rewarding and fun.

I'm worried about where the series will go from here, though. I think a lot of fans who didn't enjoy Zelda before (or didn't pay the franchise much mind) got into the series because of Tears of the Kingdom and Breath of the Wild. How are those fans going to react when we move away from this reincarnation of Link? Will Nintendo decide to play it safe and stay in the same timeline? Are we going to keep moving the series into the "future" with this technology?

All that aside, the game's a 10/10 and I ugly cried at the end!

#totk #zelda #i really do not like Koroks tho

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eternal-armin · 1 year

Text

'CAUSE HE THINKS he's made of candy.

i think this is the longest thing i've ever written here, around 6.7k words and i had to revise it a lot because it took up too much space ;;; the title is a reference to candy by robbie williams because that song slaps hard

pairing : five hargreeves x male/transmasc reader. [he/him pronouns]

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where : after surviving the apocalypse together and saving the world, things finally return to normal, in good ways and in bad ways.

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warnings : mentions of trauma, some light mentions of gore, reader has a congenital insensitivity to pain and find getting injured amusing, so... a lot of that kind of trouble. i totally wanna do another part or so because klaus and diego being father figures gives me life

you walked through the half-dark house, making your way to five's room like you had many times, skateboard in one hand and phone in the other. making sure you hadn't waken anybody up, you opened the door, greeted by the expected sight of a dark bedroom and the sound of gentle snoring. "five, wake up~," you whispered, half singing, shaking his arm, steadily waking him up. he looked annoyed, his brow already furrowed and a frown already tugging at his lips, but he wasn't angry. he was rather used to it by now, in all honesty. "your favorite person ever in the entire world is here!" you hummed. five could basically smell the grin you wore.

"and i wish he would go away," he grumbled in response, trying to turn back over and go back to sleep, only for you to flick on the light and blind him. "jesus christ, a fucking―a warning next time, please?"

"shove your warnings up your ass, five, you can miss out on your middle schooler sleep schedule for a night."

"many nights, actually," he hissed distastefully, giving a mourning glance to the cozy pillow before he sat up, now disappointingly awake. "what do you want this time?" the grogginess was now leaving his voice, but not really his eyes. five almost looked nice when sleepy, even if he looked pissed as hell at being woken up. at least your face was a little more pleasant to look at now that you were back to your teenage self.

"let's go shopping."

five looked at you like you were utterly insane, then slowly looked over at his clock. he cocked his head at you. "it's almost midnight."

"mm, did i stutter?"

"i wish you did. i'm not going shopping with you at midnight. no place is even open." five tried to put his foot down. he was a steel wall to anyone else. but to you―perhaps for you, he was simply a clay plot, one easy to crack the more water you filled it with. it was nice to spend time with you without the entire world desolate and destroyed around you, at least.

"who said the place had to be open?" you shot back with a cheeky grin. five wished that he could be surprised with your blatant delinquency. at some points it had done you both well and your affinity for breaking rules, laws, and regulations gave you a peculiar resourcefulness, but now that you were both safe and home, well... you'd become a mischievous troublemaker. just how you used to be.

"... how the hell did we ever become friends." his voice was utterly flat and his expression exhausted and peeved and yet he still stood up, shrugging the blankets off of himself, heading to his closet because he would be damned if you were going to get hurt and he wouldn't be there to laugh at you.

well, you didn't really get hurt, did you?

"i dunno, but i'm sure you regret your decision." five didn't respond to that. "i will satiate your worries, though, old man, it's an abandoned mall this time."

"wow. character development. didn't expect that from you." with the newfound information he searched for something decent to wear. something that allowed him to move and remain covered by shadows should any unsavory things come to pass.

"hey, hey, i went from crying when i stepped on an ant to killing people, and even if that's negative character development, it's still character development, okay? stop underselling me." you leaned against the wall next to his door, skateboard lounging beside you, picking at your nails. he finally took a full glance at you now that sleep was totally gone from his mind and his body, narrowing his eyes. you were wearing jean shorts, an old nirvana t-shirt, and a hawaiian button-down completely unbuttoned. at least you were wearing knee-pads this time around, but that was all the praise he could give you. five still found himself stunned that you so brazenly didn't care about how visible your scars were; scars from broken bones, scrapes, cuts, gashes, burns, stabs, bullets, shrapnel. you paraded them about like they were boy scout badges which was almost hilarious because you never learned anything from the incidents which now lined your body. even though five would never do it himself, and in fact found it incredibly weird, he kind of respected it. admired it, even. but just that one thing, nothing else. never.

"what, see something you like, old man?" you mused, going from fidgeting with your fingers to looking him in the eye, your own glinting with a bit of cheekiness. not the worst thing to be woken up to in the middle of the night.

five scoffed. "never in my life." you rolled your eyes at that sarcastic response and your grin did not fade. "you're―you're seriously wearing that?"

"hey, i dress my age, mr. retired-man-with-dementia-who-only-remembers-how-to-play-bingo, alright? leave me be." neither of you were bothered by bickering whilst five changed from pajamas to day clothes. he wasn't getting totally naked, so neither of you really gave a shit.

"'dress your age'..." he muttered. "you dress like a blind tween."

"thanks, hot stuff."

"that wasn't a compliment."

"i literally could not care less," you shot back, then winked at him, adding, "lovingly."

five faked a chuckle in some sort of hum sound, shooting you a falsified grin before returning to what he was doing. "i don't want your love. i'm good."

you frowned a bit yourself, which was totally and utterly unnerving and made five, somehow, regret what he said a little bit. "ouch, dude, tell me how you really feel."

"you couldn't comprehend even the most elementary of my emotions, so i'll spare you the headache." he glanced at you a few times, more so at that lingering twinge of unhappiness that so brazenly took over your expression. those words were typically the closest you would ever get to verbal reassurance or comfort from five, not just because he was completely incapable of voicing his own emotions properly, but because physicality did more for you than talking ever did; so, with a comfortable, neutral flannel now hiding his previously exposed torso, he placed a hand on your shoulder. he was always gentle with you, which completely didn't make sense because if anyone in the world needed to be treated gently it would certainly not be you.

a little smile found its way back on your lips. now reassured that not everything was wrong with the world, five pulled on a dark sweater and paperboy cap. you looked him over. "you really look like a retiree now," you mused, but it wasn't an insult. he looked nice like this, out of that hellish uniform, and never could you imagine him in anything else. "do you wanna hit the golf course too, gramps? i'm sure they got some mocktails for you since you wanna keep the drinking to a minimum tonight."

"shut it before i make you." he spoke through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger at you, only succeeding in making you grin.

"is that a threat or a promise?" you clicked your tongue, picking up your skateboard and heading for the door before he could say anything else. "the old tree is, like, a twenty-five-minute walk."

"i'll just blink us, i'm not spending another thirty minutes with you on a skateboard on rough sidewalks, i don't even wanna think about what would happen this time."

"it was so cool, though! i never thought a compound fracture could look like that!"

"[y/n], you only think it's cool because you couldn't feel the pain."

"uh, yeah," you said back, raising a brow at him while he shut off the light to his room and closed the door behind you two. "but it was still cool." you had your bubbly little grin again and five rolled his eyes. despite all that trouble, all that excessive worry he would never admit to feeling, five still looked back somewhat fondly on those times. back when you were ten, still learning how to skateboard, and your parents didn't even give you a helmet or joint pads, when you broke your ankle and didn't even know something had happened until five pointed it out.

after taking one hell of a tumble, hearing the board crack a bit beneath you, you let out a breathless huff, allowing yourself a moment to absorb the sudden shift in, well, everything. five perked up at the sound, surprised you weren't crying or something after falling like that. you stood up and brushed yourself off like nothing was wrong, peering strangely down at the board, which had no damage. you pushed it back and forth once or twice with one foot and it seemed undamaged. that was weird. you'd heard it break, right? five came up to your side, glancing you over once or twice, before his eyes settled down at your feet. "you've got a little something on, uh―" five cut himself off, eyes wide, and you knew that shit was bad when he looked at you like that. he looked about as shocked as one could be, and that unnerved you to no end.

"what? what, did i..." you looked down at your shirt to make sure you hadn't torn it up or anything or were totally exposed, somehow completely not noticing the broken ankle on which you were unsteadily standing, chalking it up to you still half-standing on your skateboard. "what, i don't see what's wrong this picture. stop being cryptic with me, man, you know i'm dumb as shit."

"well―i mean, you aren't wrong about that 'dumb as shit' thing, but i think you just fully busted your ankle." his curtness was plain and simple, and you had already known back then that it would be a constant in his attitude. you looked down, then back up, your eyes wide and mouth twisted as you poorly suppressed a grin and a very annoying giggle. "don't look at me like that! how―how are you not feeling it? that would hurt like hell!" he kept gesturing down at your ankle, at the protrusion of bone and reddening, swelling skin.

"i dunno, i just can't feel it," you mumbled. he pursed his lips, simultaneously in disbelief at what you were saying and knowing that you were too shit at lying to pull this kind of thing off. all of a sudden, his mind was screeching like a fork in a garbage disposal. not being able to feel pain was kind of a bad thing.

he had actually been right, to no one's surprise, when you were diagnosed with congenital analgesia. that incident had marked the day where five silently vowed to be there to protect you, because you were alone except for him. and, to a certain extent, he was alone except for you.

"god really was fucked up when he made you, wasn't he," he muttered.

you both headed downstairs and the clock, by now, was probably around twelve. klaus waited at the bottom of the staircase with the cheekiest of smirks on his face, hands clasped together and his cheek leaning against them. you let out an exhausted groan, thinking you'd missed this tonight.

"something tells me he's super weird-dad tonight."

"why are you surprised, he's klaus, and he's basically your dad."

klaus let out some weird giggle. "i mean, i prefer the thought of being the really cool uncle who teaches you how to smuggle alcohol and how to juke rehab therapists, but i don't mind being a dad." he stepped in front of you two, hands now extended, and that dopey uber-proud dad smile back. "oh, just look at you two!"

"i thought you were sober," five said flatly.

"come on, you two are perfect together! your over-the-top chaos," he gestured to you, "and your sterile literalism!" and he gestured to five. "i'm just waiting for you two to make it official, i mean, two guys don't just survive fifty years in the apocalypse together only from a platonic bond." you and five shared a wide-eyed glance. "don't worry, if my cupid abilities don't get you two together, hormones will. i can't imagine going through puberty twice, let alone the sexual tension between two guys who can't admit their love for one another―"

you put your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed, whilst five was utterly unsurprised. a similar conversation had gone down before, and he just hated reliving it. "okay! that's enough. okay, okay, uh, we're gonna go! if you contact me within the next seven days, i will call child protection services and the police." of course, the threat was empty, but hyperbole was the best way to get your point across. klaus raised his hands in surrender and stepped out of your way. he did enjoy the picture of you two, though; the two extremes on opposite sides of the social attitudes spectrum, one extroverted to the point of it being a flaw and the other antisocial to hell; the opposite sides of the fashion spectrum, one being well-put together mature vintage, and the other being power-clashing at its finest. the multicolored shoelaces were also an appreciated detail.

"i love you too, my little schneke."

"... stop calling me a snail, i'm―i'm not slow."

"maybe not physically," five said quietly to you, and in response you jabbed him in the side with a quiet 'fuck you.' on that cheerful note, you two went about your way. the front door clicked closed behind you, and in a flash of blue-tinted light, you were gone, and the house was mostly silent. klaus was soon joined by allison, quietly making her way downstairs, the only remaining light sleeper of the family.

"you really are just laying on that matchmaker thing, aren't you." she sounded drowsy and awake at the same time. klaus greeted her with a simple smile and a single nod.

"i mean, aren't they just the perfect couple?"

"they certainly were standing next to each other," allison mumbled.

seeing five frustrated was worrying. staring down at his clenched fists, blue light barely rippling out like ice spreading over a metal surface. and so when you passed him, even when he did not notice you, you touched his shoulder, finding yourself in another time. "h-hey, uh, five―" you managed, feeling nauseated as yet again he travelled to some time else.

"get off of me, [y/n], you shouldn't be here!" he looked at you with anger, more like fury, but it was a weird cocktail because it was mixed with a very weird concern. suddenly the world around you two zipped away and was replaced with one of fire, ruined buildings, complete and utter desolation of what was once a world, once compiled with many lives and now every single one was snuffed out because a different roaring fire took everything with it. both of you stood in shock for a few seconds but your cool nature was the first to crack.

"five?! five, where are we?" your voice cracked and your chest tightened, whipping your head around because you thought if you turned fast enough you would be back home.

"like hell if i know, [y/n]! why didn't you let go of me?!"

"i wouldn't have been home anyway, five! i would be just as stranded, i―we―someone needs to be alive, right? someone?" both of you seemed to have the same idea click into your minds, stumbling into weak runs to find the umbrella academy. the building had once stood grand and tall and foreboding and now it was down to the foundations. your friends, his siblings, were gone. he fell to his knees and you turned around, horrified at the world but at least free from the stinging pain of heat and dust whipping into your skin. you felt as cold as ice in a world of fire and heat because, buried amongst the broken homes, were the only family you both had. just older, and... dead. in very painful, excruciating ways.

for all those years, you thought it had been you that stranded you in the apocalypse together; you had distracted him, you had ruined it all, and you never forgave yourself. you hid it well. but five never came out with the same thought process because he didn't believe it in the slightest. he'd already been struggling to transport himself to the time he wanted. maybe you'd exasperated things just a little, but it wasn't entirely your fault. never.

you both allowed yourselves time for the mental breakdown you so dearly deserved, but the time was coming to man up and start trying to find ways to survive. joined at the hip didn't really cover how close you were over those decades, how you couldn't sleep unless you were besides each other, how you protected five because you wouldn't feel the pain and how he always patched you up while cursing you out and still kissing the wound better because it always properly calmed you down, at least more than any words could. you took the brunt of the pain, weaponizing your congenital analgesia and using it as a defensive plan. it worked. even when the handler came around, especially when the handler came around, no defense quite matched yours.

"i should've left you back near the academy building," five muttered, wrapping makeshift bandages around your... well, your practically crushed arm. his voice was gruff now, and not just from the unpleasant living situation, but you were both nearing your thirtieth birthdays. you'd both filled out. you kept gazing at him whenever he patched you up, and even though his words were sour, his touch was sweet.

"what're you looking at, dipshit."

"nothing much."

"fuck you."

"you first."

five grinned a bit. some things never changed.

"wow. this place really didn't age well." the old liberty tree spanned out in front of you with basically no windows left intact, and beyond them a black void without any electricity in the circuits. the outdoor walls were crawling with ivy, the grounds fuzzy from overgrown plants on unkempt laws, and the concrete of the structure looked about ready to crumble. you'd come here a few times in your pre-apocalyptic childhood. it had been coming down for a long time after a few bigger malls came into the picture, carrying more stores, more variety, more fast food restaurants in the food court. now its charms drew only you in as 'how sick would it be to die crushed under the ceiling of an abandoned mall?'

"it's super cool, right?" you giggled, giddy as all hell. your attitude toward liminal spaces had stayed remarkably the same over the years. always, when passing by some tired old house, you nagged five to just take a peek.

"i don't think so, no."

"well, you're friends with me, so i don't think you really have good taste, so i'm gonna ignore that comment and think you said yes." try as he might, and he desperately did, five couldn't bring himself to hate that glint in your eyes when you looked at him. pure, raw curiosity with an undertone of excitement and glee that you were exploring some boring, abandoned place with him of all people. you set down your board and took your place standing on top of it and before five could scold you for skating on very uneven ground, you took off, ducking and pulling a small ollie to get through the shattered pane of the glass main door. five sighed through his nose and followed you in, eventually greeted by the sound of your bluetooth speaker blasting something he couldn't make out by its echo.

"how could you possibly find this fun?" he almost had to shout to be heard. you were approaching again after going around the empty lobby for a few turns, just going faster and faster, losing more caution every time.

"because it's mindless and mostly not illegal!" you responded brightly. suddenly you got the fantastic idea to jump off your board and let it go flying and you followed the instinct, landing wrong on your foot and immediately heading straight for the ground. you would've landed hard, getting at least a deep bruise, if five hadn't caught you by your waist before you could break yet another bone, scoffing at your terrible decisions.

"there are millions of words in the english but none of them could ever describe just how incredible it is that you aren't dead yet," he said curtly, helping you stand back up. you were giggling.

the music was still playing and so you wrapped your arms around his neck, starting to sway and hum along to the eerily-echoing tune. he looked at you with confused horror, eyes narrowed slightly, not moving with you.

"don't give me that, shortstack!"

"i'm taller than you."

"i'm going to ignore that!" you chirped. "we're alive and out of hell, and we have been for, like, weeks now, it wouldn't kill you to dance a little bit!" your hair, bouncy from its messiness, danced almost more than you did as you moved it back and forth, singing whole-heartedly along to saint motel, keeping it a bit dialed back so that five wouldn't have his ears fully blown out by the volume. "who do you think'll see your shitty dance moves other than me? and we both know that i would be a total hypocrite if i insulted you for them."

"i don't dance."

"yeah, and i don't care. your hip won't give out if you use it for fun, fivey."

"don't... don't say that, actually." the cracks were staring to show, just as they always did with his clay pot attitude. you sputtered at the accidental innuendo.

"aw, c'mon, please? just this once?" it was no wonder that klaus was dead-set on his precious, unofficially-adopted son being in love with five, and also no wonder that diego was dead-set on keeping that same unofficially-adopted son as far away from five as possible. your puppy dog eyes were totally nauseating and deeply troubling and so he gave in, solely for the sake of his own sanity. he shut his eyes for a second, mumbling something along the lines of 'i should've killed you decades ago.' but he hugged your waist a little more purposefully and begrudgingly swayed a bit to the tune. the look of utter happiness on your face was, admittedly, kind of worth the wake-up call and following exhaustion.

"i cannot believe that you guilt-tripped me into dancing."

the happy music saw you getting a bit more creative, making up the moves as you went, whatever felt right. five let go of a little control to do the same, and found himself mildly enjoying it. would he do it again? not on his own accord. would you probably make him do it again? without a doubt. it was, however, nice to watch you enjoy yourself. he kind of wanted to dip you, but he didn't.

"you're a natural, though." clasping his hands and intertwining your fingers, you leaned back, and he found himself doing the same, both of you held upright by your grasps on the others' hands, and you started to move in a circle. for the sake of both your safety, five went about it too. walking turned into sideways jogging and you started giggling. the world around you both blurred. for five, it was just you now, just you, like it had always been. it had been a while since you'd held hands for so long but eventually it ended, much to five's dismay, and you went stumbling backward a few steps, falling hard on your ass whilst he quickly remained his balance. you were breathless for a moment after falling so suddenly, but eventually you just started laughing. five wiped his hands on his shirt, peering at you strangely.

"you didn't hear anything crack or whatever? nothing feels weird?" he spoke with no emotion in his voice and yet the words and underlying tone were careful and concerned. nobody else could hear it, but after so long, you could read his every move.

"no, nothing." you shook your head a bit, finding yourself dizzy. "nice to see you're still concerned."

he offered his hand out to you and you took it, and in a strong move, he pulled you up. "i wouldn't call it concern."

"well, then, what would you call it?"

good question.

you were sniffling and crying while trying not to sound it at all. of course, it wasn't from the pain, but from the total stress. sometimes it all just collapsed on you again and you were a hyperventilating, shaking kid again, too scared to turn off the light because the shadows freaked you out. five sat down beside you, leaning against the least-crumbling wall of the small shack you'd both been calling home.

"you're not really a crier," he began. "did something happen?"

"i-i almost got crushed and i saw my life fucking―flash before my eyes and i hated all of it. every single second. i wish i'd killed my parents, i wish i'd killed that landlord, i wish i'd killed my uncle―"

"wish all you want but that's not gonna happen, [y/n]." his voice softened. five was essentially the same as he had been when he was thirteen, just sprouted into someone who would've been one hell of a college freshman. "i wish i killed a lot of people too, but we're here, and we're here together, and―for what it's worth―i'm glad that you're alive." he settled a bit closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you, still sniveling, against him. "hating your childhood is pretty common where i'm from," he joked, successfully getting a wheezy chuckle from you, "and it's still possible to lead a decently okay life. i'm trapped in a terrible apocalypse, and it's not just external, but... it's a little better because i have someone else who's more insane to remind me that i'm right."

you chuckled yet again, snuggling against him. his warmth was better than the world's. "i think i only moved because i heard you call."

"seriously?"

"i-i mean, yeah." it was kind of hard to forget the feeling of stumbling away from a ton of hard reinforced concrete that would've left you as a reddish smear on an orange world. five's curt and somewhat annoyed call was the only thing that grounded you, and you both knew just how quick that faded.

"you really would be dead without me." his voice was quiet and deeply peeved but he didn't shy away from you, his hand remaining idly just against your hair.

"no shit, dumbass―trust me, i am well aware." you snorted to yourself and five sprouted a small amused smile on his own. eventually your smile dimmed a bit, and were reminded of the world in which you lived in, and the world from which you had come from. "why did you stick around?" your disheartened soul was reflected in those words, lined with a pure confusion. five furrowed his brow. apparently it was completely out of the realm of possibility to you for him to just care.

"... there was a lot of―"

"answer the question. please. j-just this once." five quieted a bit when he heard that. usually he was quite skilled at deflecting questions but you melted his resolve so easily. you asking a genuine question in a hauntingly low voice left five silent with no idea how to respond, even after all these years of dealing with your rollercoaster mannerisms.

"wrong place at the wrong time, i suppose." right place at the right time was better to describe it, maybe. "after you broke your ankle when we were ten, i guess i took it upon myself to make sure you didn't do any dumb shit that would end up in a gnarly death. whether you can feel it or not." so he'd appointed himself to be your protector?

"why? it wouldn't do you any good. well... it hasn't done you any good."

"do you really think i only do things if they'll give me an advantage?" five paused, not looking down to see the squinted eyes you stared at him with. "don't answer that question, actually. don't answer. it hasn't done me any good but i don't regret anything i did. not terribly, anyway."

your grin would make the cheshire cat blush.

five immediately regretted saying that. "don't let that go to your head, [y/n]."

"already there, bud."

his brow furrowed again, the corners of his lips twitching down in another frown. "alright. maybe it's partially concern. but fracturing your pelvis would be a very stupid way to die, and not worth laughing at, so i didn't want to miss out on a show." maybe there was some form of truth in that desire for a fun death, but you had that desire too, so small potatoes. it was silence between you two for a few seconds as you patted concrete dust off of your clothes and the backs of your thighs. "let me help," he said, and it was a demand and not an ill-cadenced suggestion. he stepped behind you and swiped away the strips you couldn't reach with a heavy hand. while he did so he carefully looked you over, even going to far as lifting your arms to check for any injuries. you were quite used to it by now.

"thanks," you mumbled. "still waiting for that broken leg."

"well, your plan wouldn't work anyway, because i can see your legs."

"yeah... i like my legs. i don't want one to go janky from a broken bone."

"it would be unfortunate."

"mmhm, so you agree."

five narrowed his eyes slightly, not getting what you meant for a second or two, before scoffing. "i don't think that your legs are nice."

"really?" you turned to look at him, and the teasing grin on your face was reassuring in how amused it was. you were just playing with him, but that was always the way you got him to inadvertently expel whatever he was thinking. you tilted your head, crossing your arms.

"don't give me that, [y/n], or i'll blink away and leave you here."

"there's ceiling access."

he pursed his lips. "alright, then leaving you alone here is completely out of the question, but i will find some way to make this miserable for you."

"what, why? why d'you wanna misery me?"

"you're dreadfully annoying, for one. i hate how you're always smiling, it gives you really bad wrinkles. you have the heart of a child because you're so immature and i don't know why the universe thought it would be funny to shove us two together, because god knows it would never happen normally, but here we are, much to my chagrin." five paused. you were accustomed to his rants by now. "your weird uncle-dad keeps trying to rush something which shouldn't be rushed, and i don't even know what level of weird that is but i hate being a part of it."

"rush something which shouldn't be rushed―what does that mean?" it was like you had selective hearing for the smallest freudian slips known to man. "what, do you need sixty more years to admit you've had some sort of big emotion or something?" it was mostly a jab, something meant to be funny, which was met with a stolid seriousness. you let out a near-silent 'oh' as the moment continued.

"yeah. turns out the crazy alcoholic was onto something, for the first time in his life." you snorted at the quip, nodding in agreement. both of you knew, dearly knew, that words wouldn't be the vessel of the confession, but both of you knew, dearly knew, that it was coming pretty fast. you'd just never think it would come this fast. klaus was really good at sniffing out a love arc, apparently. five felt like steel when he took your hands back into his, not because his biting sharp edges hurt you, no, and they never would, but he'd never done something in a manner such as this. with a few unspoken words the entire atmosphere of your relationship had been turned upside down and that was the scary part; he had no clue where to go from here.

"the worst part will be telling klaus he was right," you joked, swinging your arms in and out on socially-awkward instinct.

"you're telling me. he's gonna tout it around for the rest of time."

"we'll never live it down."

"i doubt you'll need to worry about that, i'll be surprised if you make it to your 16th birthday."

"you give me three years? seriously? you really think that my 58-year-old-13-year-old self can only survive three more years?"

"absolutely correct." you found yourself laughing and he found himself grinning, just slightly. the sound was pleasant, admittedly. he was more open with that now. well, barely, but it still counted. the silence that did follow this time around was almost pleasant. you were too nervous to maintain eye contact very long, so you glanced away from him and your gaze lingered on the random spot which it landed. plants had somehow found their way into the internal cracks of the floor, green shards glinting out in the pale light from the grimy sunroof.

"i never thought i'd see the day where you couldn't look me in the eyes. it's weird and i don't like it. look at me." your cheeks felt warm but you did as you were told. he smiled a little bit, and it didn't even hint at a snarky grin or smug smirk. you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his.

"i'm totally not telling klaus about this."

"neither am i, are you kidding?"

"never in my life," you giggled to yourself, graduating from holding his hands to wrapping your arms back about his neck, where it felt like they belonged. suddenly it was like he was new to embraces because his arms felt stiff when he hugged back, but he hugged back, tight. never before had you encountered something so gentle and so suffocating at the same time; gentle because he might break you, suffocating because he might lose you. neither of those would happen on his watch, of course. somehow, even with your wild self, your flaws and lack of capability to abide by laws and rules, you'd managed to charm the most level-headed, logic-addicted, cynical douchebag the world had ever seen. maybe there was some truth behind that old 'opposites attract' thing.

"do you wanna stick around this dingy place for a while longer like the psychopath you are or get food before you go to sleep so you don"t whine about being hungry?"

"am i really that predi—"

"yes."

"wow, you muttered, furrowing your brow. "i really am predictable."

"yes."

with just the will to prove him wrong you stood straighter and gave him a quick, albeit strong, kiss, and then you were right back on your feet. you caught him off-guard, that's for sure, because he looked like an android in the middle of uploading information; eyes slightly wide, brows slightly raised, pure subtlety. "how about that?"

it still took him a few seconds to respond after that, trying to regain his smug and blunt composure while also trying not to dampen the mood in any way. "you're terrible at convincing. give it another shot."

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreaves fluff #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #five x male reader #five x y/n #five x you #klaus hargreeves #klaus tua #tua netflix #tua x male reader #tua x y/n #tua x you #tua x reader

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guppybubbles · 3 months

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Sweet Dreams are Made of This. [1/3]

(A/N: Kind of a sequel to my other fic, ROLL ME A 6 ! :> You don't need to read that though to understand this!)

Borrower Tommy accidentally shifts into a universe where his homebrew DND world is real. He still sucks at being a giant.

WORD COUNT: 1,341 words

WARNINGS: None.

"Tommy opened his eyes and what he saw was unlike anything he's seen before…"

Tommy listened in anticipation. What could it be? A new friend, a new foe? He looked at his dad, a smug little smile barely hidden by his serious storytelling.

"And we'll find that out in the next session."

Halfway through his sentence, he and his brothers already knew it was the end of their game for the day. All groaning and complaining about Phil leaving it in such a dumb cliffhanger, Phil only laughed.

It couldn't have been hours already, had it? They barely started! He still had to redeem himself and his character into great glory! "No, come on, let's do one more hour— please, please?" He begged, holding onto one of Phil's fingers like he had all the power to hold him down and force him into another round.

With his other hand, Phil picked up the die and tossed it into the container— folding up the map before putting it back in the box. Tommy knew it was over, they'd start another session again sooner or later.

But he wanted to do another hour, or maybe two more, now. "Pleasee, I rolled so low every turn, I need to redeem myself!"

"I wish we could continue, mate." Phil smiled, "But I got work tomorrow and it's already…" He stared at the clock, making a surprised sound at the 11:48 PM on the wall. Phil cursed under his breath, gently, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy’s hold. "Alright, get to bed you three."

The blond borrower knew there was no convincing Dad anymore. He crossed his arms with a humph, upset with his bad luck during the game. "Cheer up, Toms! I'm sure luck will make you do justice next time." Wilbur consoled, pushing his chair into the table and picking up the box with their fantasy map and die.

“You are horrible at throwing the die for me,” Tommy grumbled, narrowing his eyes at his older brother who had offered to throw the dice for him earlier. Wilbur’s luck when it came to the game was pretty good, yet whenever he tossed the die for Tommy, the luck seemed to plummet- doing worse than when the borrower himself threw the die.

In the corner of his eyes, he could see Wilbur’s lips press into a thin line. He was stopping himself from being amused at Tommy’s anger. “It really wasn’t on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy replied. Not upset at Wilbur, nor was he upset at the game. He swears he would be able to throw the dice better if he was just… more human-sized.

“You’ll do better next game, I’ll make sure of it,” Wilbur promises.

Tommy looks at him incredulously, slightly laughing. “What, are we gonna cheat or something?”

In response, Wilbur shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Dunno, maybe.”

Holding the game board, he placed his other hand on the desk. A trust exercise that slowly grew into a habit none of them thought was strange anymore, Tommy hopped on the hand and held onto the fingers for support. He used to have to walk from place to place, no matter how far it was because the big man was too stubborn to accept and ask for help. In response, they all worked together to install little stairs everywhere so Tommy would at least be able to reach things without having to heave himself up with a rope and a hook. He almost cried in front of them because of how much he appreciated the gesture.

That night, Tommy lay in his bed, uncharacteristically quiet as he stared at the ceiling. His room looked so much like a human's room- constructed by his family after nearly a year of accidentally revealing himself to them. It wasn’t exactly like him to be upset for the dice throws during the game, it really wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. On a good day, he throws exceptionally well for Tommy’s character too.

But Tommy isn’t upset about the dice, is he?

It was never the dice, never Wilbur, never his family, but him.

If he was truly meant to be their family, then couldn’t the universe make him human? Did he seriously have to be something that was never allowed to mingle with larger beings? It was a written code since the beginning of time that borrowers were never allowed to be with humans. Never share anything, what you are, what your name was. Most importantly, never be seen.

Were they never supposed to be a family then? Did he have to break the borrower’s code just to be a part of something he’s not supposed to? He’s not a borrower anymore, he knows that. He barely even follows the code anymore, but he’s not human either. Too exposed to be a borrower, too small to be a human.

Then what was he?

Tommy released a loud, exasperated sigh. His calloused hands rubbed over his face. He knows he shouldn’t think about such things, but lately, he’s been more aware than ever. He notices how Techno looms over him when they do woodwork together, Wilbur’s singing voice goes from soothing to too loud, and Phil barely gives him any chores (Maybe he shouldn’t complain about that one, actually).

They don’t mean it, of course, they didn’t. They probably don’t even notice it as well. Something so small and insignificant to them could be so overwhelming for him. He just wants to be bigger, to fit in…

He should go to sleep. He'll forget about it tomorrow and everything will continue on like it usually does (until the nagging feeling returns and he feels like he's rotting in bed).

Goodnight, me. Tommy closed his eyes, unable to rid of the heavy weight in his chest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If Tommy could recall this correctly— and while he may not have the best memory, he can certainly tell when something is just plain wrong… He fell asleep on his bed, right?

His eyes blurred as he gained consciousness and though he wasn't aware of where he was— he could sense danger even from a mile away. His shoulders ached, raised high above him. Something was holding his arms upwards. Cold, tight metal gripping his wrists, uncomfortably pressing into his skin. He tried tugging it downwards, but it barely moved.

Instead of lying on a soft, warm bed, it felt like he'd been kneeling for Prime knows how long. His legs felt numb, ringing uncomfortably no matter how much he tried to move. It didn't matter because he was stuck in place.

It was hot. Sweat was dripping from his forehead to his nose and down to either his clothes or the floor (he made a mental note that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas).

He sucked in a deep breath, humid air filling his lungs in a way that didn't calm him down, but just made him panic more.

Tommy's vision began clearing up and despite the little ache in his neck, he decided to look around. The room was dimly lit, weak artificial lighting barely reflecting the big, metal room he resided in.

There were mini stairs and platforms built around him. The platforms in front of him connected through the middle and had a door on each side of the wall. Above the platform in the wall in front of him was glass, he couldn't make out anything inside, it was darker than the room he was in.

The metal room he sat in was quite spacey. The ceiling was quite high but he couldn't stand up even if he attempted to— his ankles were chained as well, shorter in length compared to the ones around his wrist. Tommy struggled against the chains, everything looked so.. small yet so oddly detailed.

Where was he? Who were these stairs for? Were there more beings smaller than a borrower? Prime, how would they even look next to a human?

Does his family know where he is right now..?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

yayaya thank you sm for reading! & holy shit guppy writing fics comeback??? no way!!!

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #g/t #giant/tiny #dsmp g/t #mcyt g/t community #dsmp gt #giant!tommy #giant!wilbur #giant!techno #giant!philza #tiny!wilbur #tiny!tommy #tiny!techno #guppy writes!#mcyt gt community #g/t au #g/t writing

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hopeyarts · 1 month

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Wish AU (not a rewrite) is inspired by folklore dragons guarding treasures and basic medieval stuff, as well as a sprinkle of the Wish concepts. Most characters will be OUT OF CHARACTER from the movie, so just fyi. They’re all fictional and the story is fictional. This is all for fun! 🥰

Takes place in the kingdom of Rosas ruled over by two dragon-shapeshifters named Emperor Magnifico and Empress Amaya. The city of Rosas has wishless citizens while a village in the uncharted forests holds a small community of outsiders who escaped with most of them having their wishes. The once lively and beautiful kingdom used to be ruled by former King Tomás and former Queen Sakina, who are both alive. They believed in the stars to guide them and the philosophies of astronomy and such.

In this AU, wishes are more than someone’s dream and rather their literal heart and soul, also their own magic! I’m calling it a wish because wishes are formed from these, and I dunno what else to call them. So a wish isn’t what you desire like a new guitar or to fly, but it is the ‘spark in your heart’ and your motivation to pursue something more for yourself and everyone. Without your wish, you are practically empty inside and have a lingering sense of both weariness and sorrow, with a hint of trepidation. If your wish is crushed, you are held down by waves of severe depression and grief similar to losing someone close to you. You have a pain in your heart (so literally a broken heart) and can result in death after a short period of time. So you’ve lost a literal part of your being and it lasts forever, unless you reclaim that part of your soul back. Also the more selfless a wish is, the more powerful it is. A quote that inspired this is, “A life without passion is not living, it’s merely existing” - Leo Buscaglia. Just my interpretation on how ‘wishes’ should be! And it makes the stakes higher.

Emperor Magnifico and Empress Amaya keep these ‘orbs of souls’ (kind of like Ursula) aka wishes in exchange for people to continue to live on the island (because what’s a kingdom without its people?). They don’t grant wishes, but they do hoard them in a room and dote on their beauties like its treasure (just like how some dragons collect gold and such). Otherwise, they crush the most selfless wishes in order to absorb their magic and stay strong. They’re not exactly evil, but they’re cocky and greedy and love to uphold their own appearances (I mean, come on look at them they’re gorgeous). As dragon-shapeshifters, they see regular humans are inferior and don’t really understand that they’re hurting the people. Kind of like when a kid messes around with ants.

Princess Asha and her family managed to get some of their people out of the city and into a refugee village named Hamlet to avoid the royal dragons, but some of them still got their wishes stolen from them. Former King Tomás is one of them, whose ‘wish’ is very selfless according to the royal dragons. Princess Asha, who believes in the stars because of her father’s stories, makes a plea to the sky for an answer to their problem. Star comes down as its usual form from the movie and helps her. Star can shapeshift into different beings, but only mythical and normal animals and cannot talk. Asha also has a companion named Valentino, who is a grumpy, strong grown goat. He can talk when Star gives him a voice, but he isn’t annoying and doesn’t make jokes. Star and Valentino have a fun dynamic where they’re frenemies but it’s one-sided on Val’s part.

Princess Asha in this AU has the personalities of Mulan, Tiana, and Belle. Asha is witty, studious, and sarcastic but displays moments of sincerity. She is also very determined and head-strong to get her kingdom back and restore everyone’s hearts. She has proven to be a responsible and talented young woman, and is capable of hand-to-hand combat. She is NOT quirky, but she has some cute moments. She equips a sword with her at all times ever since the invasion and hunts for food for her people in Hamlet. She does a lot for her community and often tries to venture off to the city, but her parents tell her otherwise. When her father, King Tomás, is on his deathbed after his wish is crushed at the start, Asha dedicates herself to bring the kingdom back to its glory. Her mother tries to keep Asha safe with her in Hamlet, but Asha refuses to give up and travels to the city to save her people. Sabino does exist in this AU as the first king before his son, Tomás, but he is now retired and serves as a source of wisdom for Princess Asha. He dies at the start naturally from age.

I’ll try to include all seven of her friends but give them more personality. Her friends are with her in Hamlet and she brings them along at some point to help save the kingdom. I’m also including an additional character from one of the deleted scenes whose name is Flazino who was King Magnifico’s previous apprentice and wished to study magic. In this AU, Flazino will be a boy who learned some magic himself inspired by former King Tomás’ philosophies and studied to be the kingdom’s court mage and is Asha’s love interest (am I the first to ship Asha and Flazino? Lol). Flazino was also captured by Emperor Magnifico and Empress Amaya, mainly to tease Asha.

Again, the royal dragons are practically messing with the humans while not entirely realizing what they’re doing. Or maybe they do? Still figuring that part out. But the ending involves Asha being a knight-in-shining-armor for Flazino, and she also tries to compromise with the royal dragons.

I have some fun little comics and drawings in mind! And the designs 🤭 I’m gonna love making those. Still a WIP!

#wish #wish 2023 #disney wish #wish movie #disney asha #wish asha #princess asha #wish au #wish king magnifico #dragon king magnifico #king magnifico #wish queen amaya #queen amaya #flazino #dahlia wish #disney wish au #hopeyarts

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lexinympho · 2 years

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Reader who deflects compliments

Kuroo, Suna, Kunimi, Himekawa & Bokuto x gn!reader

Tags/Warnings: Fluff (this whole thing is very soft ngl), a bit of angst, established relationship in the first 3 parts, kinda insecure reader, halfway proofread lol

A/N: Not me prematurely posting another fic😩This is my first time ever doing a headcanon list with multiple characters, so forgive me for this one being pretty rusty and excessively lengthy. Take a shot everytime you see the words "compliment", "praise", and "comment" lol

Kuroo

Tetsuro took every chance he could to throw compliments your way, not necessarily because you're his s/o, but complimenting you is something he finds joy in (your reactions are something he lives for). And since he loves doing it, it didn't take him very long to notice what kind of compliments you have trouble accepting, particularly ones that praise any effort you've put into something. If he commented on your hair, you'd deflect by saying you didn't do much to warrant a comment. If he said he loved how you decorated the room, you'd respond by saying you could've done more. If he even says you did a good job cleaning the dishes, you'll just say you wish you didn't take so long.

He tried to chalk it up to you simply not being used to compliments pertaining to your hard work, but couldn't keep doing so after a while of you repeatedly doubting yourself.

Things came to a head when he watched you work tirelessly on an art project for 2 weeks. It was a big project, one that he's had to pull you away from on numerous occasions so you'd take a break; he knew how much effort you were putting into it not just for a good grade, but for your personal expectations as well. When he commented positively on the art project as its due date nears, he wasn't the least bit surprised when you turned to him apprehensively.

"Um," your eyes flickered back and forth between him and the artwork as you fiddled with your fingers, "are you sure? Not that I don't believe you, but I'm not finished with it, so-"

"[Y/N], it really looks good. If anything, it looks like you're pretty much finished with it."

"...But I feel like this part-"

"I'm serious." He cut you off with a pinch to your side to rid you of any tension, then said with an easy smile, "You only have so much time to work on it more anyways."

You didn't look entirely convinced, but you went along and said, "Yeah, I guess."

He finally decided to speak up as he sat beside you, "Why do you do that anyways?"

"Hm?" You looked back to see him fixating you with a small frown, then asked somewhat cautiously to avoid upsetting him, "Do what?"

"Deflect."

"...I dunno." You broke eye contact to stare at your creation and conjure an answer he'd be satisfied with, "I guess I just feel like I need to earn it or something..."

"You don't feel like you deserve a positive critique? That pains me y'know, here I am wanting to inflate your ego and yet here you are doubting your own boyfriend-"

You forced yourself to stifle a smile at his dramatic flair, "I'm sorry, but-"

"Do you really believe you have to work for any praise from me?"

"No, I mean, yes, well-"

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Shut up!" You managed to get out with the laugh he pulled from you. "It's just...weird to explain, and hard to understand."

"Try me~"

Internally thankful for him diminishing any unease you had left in you, you clasped your hands together as you began, "It's honestly not that big of a deal, I'm just so used to putting in the work to hear feedback or get a clap on the shoulder. So when I don't do as much as I would or as efficiently as I'd hope, it's unfamiliar territory hearing someone praise me regardless."

"So," he spoke from his reclined position, "you're basically not used to receiving compliments you haven't worked for?"

"I guess?" You awkwardly toyed with your fingers and added with an airy laugh as you looked back to Tetsuro, "That makes it seem like I can't handle being called attractive."

He adjusted his posture so he could lean towards you to pull your chair closer, then proceeding to lean his head on your shoulder. Wearing a contemplative but committed smile, he concluded, "Guess I'll have to flatter you so much that you're used to it."

You playfully pushed at him until he wrapped his mile long arms around your torso. You give up by that point and say "Isn't it bad to flatter? You don't want me to get used to it anyways, I might develop an ego."

He burrowed his permanent bedhead into your neck and countered, "There's nothing wrong with a bit of confidence."

"Mhm, famous last words."

He chuckled before he tightened his hold around you and looked up to meet your eyes, "I'm serious. I'll make sure you can't find it in yourself to doubt...yourself. That came out weird, but you understand, I'd rather you feel like you achieved something instead of getting frustrated with trying to meet expectations. Just do as much as you want without worrying whether or not someone will judge your efforts, your evaluation of your work always comes first and matters the most. And if you really feel like you wanted to do more, then work on it. But do it for yourself."

You wanted to say something in response to his insightful monologue, but he genuinely left you speechless. It's been a long time since someone made you feel like they weren't telling you 'it's okay for you to not do your best', 'you're only human', or 'it's not that serious', only for you to feel like you were underperforming or doing the bare minimum. Perhaps it was Tetsuro's sincerity that made his words stick in your brain much stronger than anyone else's, because you know he'd never sugar coat his words to make you feel better. He's the bona fide embodiment of honesty.

He seemed satisfied irregardless of your lack of response, "And remember that."

"...Tetsu?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"No problem." His face changed in little to no time after saying that. "Actually..." he trailed off mischievously.

"Wha--pfft!" You desperately tried and failed to push his hands away from you.

"You owe me the rest of the night now that you're finished with your project."

"I--hehehe--I'm not done-"

"It looks pretty done to me babe!"

As jubilant giggles bubbled from your chest due to his wandering fingers tickling your sides, you felt yourself believing that you'd eventually drop your bad habit with his help. You wanted to get better at taking his (and everyone else's) compliments, and he wanted you to feel good about receiving them, so there's no reason for your combined endeavors to not pay off.

It unquestionably took some time for you to get into a different mindset concerning your work ethic, but you eventually found yourself doubting your efforts less and less, not giving in to your past habit of comparing them to his compliments. It's gotten to a point where you'd confidently say you're enough to deserve his praise and affection without having to prove yourself in some way.

And Tetsuro can say with certainty he'd never grow tired of reminding you of that singular fact every moment he could.

Suna

Rintarou could only feel an odd sense of nostalgia, amusement, and the slightest bit of irritation after you made a degrading comment about your academic prowess. He invaded your study session and playfully complained about you ignoring him for your studies, which led to you saying something along the lines of, "Well I wouldn't have to study so much if I wasn't so dumb lol." That in turn prompted him to throw you on your bed and call you a polymath, something you had to look up the definition for since he wouldn't tell you.

"I'm not a polymath, that sounds so extra."

"It's a perfect description! 'A person of wide-ranging knowledge and learning' describes you to a T."

"You only picked that word because I'm cramming."

"Not gonna lie, I kinda did. But it's not extra."

"I'm not that smart-"

"Are you calling me a liar?" The question was a serious one, but the tone he used to ask it was anything but.

Your befuddled brain had trouble comprehending that however and sent you into a flurry of words (if they can be called that), "N-No but-"

"Then take the compliment, you're a genius who's cramming like crazy for a test they want to do well on." He said while delivering a heartfelt thump to your forehead with a straight face.

You waved his hand away to rub at your forehead and retort, "Geniuses don't cram. And 'polymath'? Of all words?"

A smile finally broke through, irrespective of your usual difficulty accepting his words as the truth, and he said, "No need to be modest~"

You stubbornly remained silent as you went back to your phone.

Anyone who didn't know you well would easily pass off your reaction to compliments as excessive modesty with how good you are at discreetly rebuffing their words of praise. It's a good thing Rintarou knows you well enough to understand that your 'excessive modesty' is more so you not knowing how to accept praise without seeing the downside to their words. In fact, your self-deprecating nature only truly comes out when you're alone with him, something you'd offhandedly disclosed when you assumed he wasn't listening. Not that it needed to be verbalized, he came to the conclusion on his own after some time, long before dropping the 'best friend' label between you two.

He'd normally grow frustrated from repeatedly dealing with someone else's internal issues or bad habits; having known you for so long though, he could never muster the energy to stay mad at you or blow up in your face. Especially since, as you said, you can't quite help the pavlovian responses after using them for years.

You've thankfully gotten better at not contradicting any approbation that comes your way, only stumbling on occasion when a simple 'thank you' isn't at the forefront of your mind. And though you refrain from making it a constant occurence, you show in your own ways your gratefulness for Rin's help getting you to this point. Some may think his practical nature clashes with the need for reassurance or stability, but you think that down-to-earth approach is needed.

That aforementioned gratefulness is currently being demonstrated, in your opinion, by allowing him to interrupt your study time for a cuddling session (he argued he was doing you a favor).

"What're you thinking about?" Rintarou mumbled from his place on your torso.

You put your phone down to acknowledge him, "How much you have to deal with me when-"

"I don't deal with you, I love you." His head shot up as he said that with a stern look.

"-when I get in my moods."

He laid his head back down, "Well you're doing better now, yeah?"

"Yeah, I am," you said sincerely. A blanket of serene silence settled as you ran your fingers through his hair, only to be lifted when you asked lowly, "You really think I'll do a good job on that test?"

"You're a literal brainiac, you'll be fine."

"That doesn't guarantee anything, math isn't my strong point."

He looked back up, "I think the fact that you've been locked up in your dorm room surrounded by any and all studying material and hardly replied to my texts until I broke in says you're going to pass."

Though said in jest, you feel sentimentality settle in your heart after his elongated response as you say, "Wow, you must really love me, huh?"

"You have no idea."

Some part of you takes that to heart, knowing that he truly does love you more than you could hope to comprehend. Considering how swift he is in tackling your deep-rooted insecurities and uplifting your self-esteem, you'd say his everlasting support is a testament to how fathomless his love is.

Love won't get you a passing grade on your math exam though. One look at the time had you pushing at his shoulders and saying, "Rin, get up, it's been 30 minutes."

He squeezed tighter and burrowed his face in your stomach, "You said an hour-"

"You said an hour, and I didn't agree to that-"

Kunimi

Akira is well aware of what backhanded compliments are, all too often being on the receiving end of them himself, and sometimes dishing similar comments out to others who rub him the wrong way. So when he sees you've changed your hairstyle and pulled on a jacket before the day was remotely halfway over with, he knew it probably had to do with what your classmate said earlier. She attempted to pass her comments off as genuine praise, but you and Akira were never fond of how she liked using insults disguised as compliments to get under everyone's skin. Her saying, "You should wear ponytails more often," seemed innocent enough until she tacked on, "you wear your hair down too much if you ask me." And as for the shirt, "What made you decide to dress up today?"

That one is self-explanatory.

Akira is now left sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and wondering how to approach you about what happened. Although he makes it a point to not force you into speaking your heart out, you do tend to keep mishaps to yourself (in your own words, "I don't like dumping my issues on you.") Of course he had an in-depth conversation with you about doing that, going so far to say he wouldn't mind even if you talked his ears off, something he knows isn't likely considering how little you actually speak for long periods of time. But during the few moments where you did, you mentioned once, and only once, how you had trouble taking compliments seriously because you'd oftentimes hear backhanded ones from your own family.

That gave him context as to why you used to fixate him with certain looks whenever he said something nice about you, and he never made a huge deal out of your reactions. He understood where you were coming from because you opened up and spoke to him, in spite of your previous fears of him dismissing you due to the mien of indifference he exudes around others.

Right now however, you're doing the opposite, and he's quite frankly confused.

He lazily pulled himself off the couch and travelled to the kitchen to say something (he's not sure what to say to be perfectly honest). He watched you for a bit as you flipped grilled cheese sandwiches in a pan before he stated nonchalantly, "You changed your shirt."

"I just wanted to change into something more comfortable." You answered effortlessly without looking away from the task at hand.

Good excuse. He'd call you out on it, but the fact that you're giving an excuse in the first place tells him he should proceed with caution. He leaned on the counter, listening to the sizzle of butter against the surface of the pan, and contemplates his next move. He feels pretty enervated right now, he probably doesn't have to bring up the university girl, you two could just relax for the rest of the day. Lie in bed with the grilled cheese sandwiches and watch a corny movie to poke fun at, and maybe finally have a talk later on or tomorrow, whenever you seem more open to the possibility-

That's just more trouble, he thought to himself. The statement sounds a bit mean in his head, but he knows he wouldn't be able to completely unwind with you if his mind is stuck on this. More important than that however is you being avoidant of the topic, worrying him more than he'd like to admit.

With a soft inhale, he starts-

"It's something how someone I don't care for, let alone hardly know, can affect me like that," you randomly say as you remove the sandwiches from the pan once they've reached an optimal crispness.

-only to let out a breath when you speak first.

You glanced back when you add, "I figured I might as well say something since I could feel you psyching yourself up."

He pursed his lips and returned with, "I wasn't 'psyching myself up'. Just thinking if I needed to start or if you wanted to." It's not until after hearing what you said when he realizes another thing that bothered you, probably more than the comments themself: the idea of someone who's not close to you managing to hit you where it hurts definitely isn't one that's easy to come to grips with.

"It's nothing any different from the usual, just me paying too much attention to the negatives." You finally turn the stove off and turn to look at him with a tentative expression, "I know what's her face was being kind of sarcastic, but another girl came up to me later and said my ponytail was cute. I could tell she was being legit, so that made me feel a little better I guess."

"It was cute." Akira said honestly.

Your heart fluttered from the comment and spread a sensation of fuzziness throughout you. The fuzziness, however, waged war with the dubiety that was bound to arise after today's events. "You think so?"

He grabbed your hand to pull you closer and say, "I know so."

"Even though I rarely wear it?"

"You know it doesn't bother me how much you wear your hair down. You're the one with the cold ears."

A small laugh rumbled out of you, but you still found yourself asking, "What about the shirt?"

The smirk he suddenly donned warned you of his incoming tease when he answered, "It's nice and all, but you should really start wearing mine more-"

"I'm wearing one of your shirts right now you overgrown sloth."

"I meant out and about, like to uni-"

"Aki!" You protested, but knew you truly had no real difficulty going along with his request, it's mostly a matter of privacy.

"Really though," he pulled you in for a hug, "however you dress should be up to you. Some blonde background character in the back of class definitely doesn't have the authority to judge you, got it?"

"'Blonde background character'..."

"Neither of us remember her name, admit it."

You silently pulled away to grab your plate of grilled cheese sandwiches before saying, "Let's eat these before they get cold."

He light-heartedly rolled his eyes but followed you to the bedroom as he said, "You should wear your ponytail tomorrow just to piss her off."

"Shut up." You laughed him off but didn't feel all that opposed to the idea.

Himekawa

Aoi would be lying if he told himself he didn't develop some kind of interest for you when you took up the managerial position of the team; he is lying by pushing aside the fact that his interest actually started from your time together in class. He invariably observes you any time you're in the same vicinity as him, feeling revitalized from the sound of your voice reverberating around the gym, while managing to turn his head away at the speed of sound when you nearly catch his eyes on you. His fellow teammates are all too aware of the effect you have on the freshly turned 2nd year, especially the former 3rd years who visit on occasion, but it's not as though he's been fervently hiding his growing adoration for you. He oft gets called out whenever he seems to be waiting for you to come back from one of your duties, somehow being the one to walk you home when the rest of the team trickles down throughout the endeavor, and when he's bringing you up in conversation much more than intended.

To make a long story short, his year and a half of knowing you gave him ample time to espy a perplexing mannerism of yours that only makes itself known when you hear any laudation about yourself. It's nothing remarkably alarming, but you tend to boomerang compliments. You're not necessarily unaccepting of the compliment as far as he can see, but you aren't directly accepting it either.

Normally, he wouldn't pry about things unless they needed to be pried about; you don't appear to be outwardly denying any of your positives at least. But the earnestness that lights your eyes up tends to flicker when you receive praise, and he feels that in of itself warranted him confronting you about the topic. Which brings his attention back to right now, where he's currently walking you home without the habitual bustle of the team to accompany the stillness of night. After internally giving himself a pep talk, he decided the best time to strike up a discussion was now. He waited for you to finish your recount of today's practice match to look ahead and speak, "Hey, I've been wondering about something."

"Hm?" You purely responded, none the wiser about what he planned to ask, yet acutely aware of his fidgety state when you glanced at him in acknowledgement.

The curly haired male stumbled his way through his question as he picked at his bag strap, "Um...why do you always...throw compliments back at someone when they give you one?" He quickly added with a frenzied wave of his free hand, "N-Not that you have to tell me, it's just, you kind of look like you aren't comfortable, and you never really acknowledge-"

"It's fine, Aoi," you stopped his rambling with a verbal reassurance and leisurely smile. "I didn't think anyone would figure there was something wrong so long as I responded in kind with my own comment."

He didn't think there was something intrinsically wrong with what you were doing, but you went on to answer his question anyway. "I just don't want to come off as hubristic or arrogant, y'know?"

That makes sense. "But I don't think anyone would see you as such if you simply thank them. You're really modest and generally nice to everyone on the team."

"You'd be surprised," you said lowly, promptly taking on a despondent demeanor and looking away from him.

"Ah." Though your answer was short, it held quite a lot of weight and helped him paint a more comprehensive picture of why you react the way you do to praise.

His brief response gave you a certain impression and elicited you to say, "Sorry I'm being such a downer right now."

He stopped walking and lightly grabbed your arm to evoke you into doing the same, "You're not being a downer."

His small action coupled with the equanimous tone he used pulled your gaze back to his resolute expression. He continued, "I don't know about anyone else, but the team and I never compliment you thinking that it'd inflate your ego, we just genuinely appreciate how much you do for us and we want you to know that."

His words of encouragement lifted your spirits, but one small concern still plagued your mind, "I think the problem is that I don't know what exactly to say in response. I feel like 'thank you' isn't enough, but saying anything more might seem pretentious. And then I kind of get stuck trying to choose one or the other, but I end up saying something back instead. It's easier than saying nothing."

He gave a hum of rumination and started back walking as he said, "I think saying 'thank you' is more effective than you think."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said confidently. "If it really bothers you that you can't think of a follow up, I'm sure most people would understand if that's all you can say."

You then asked fretfully as you're not quite convinced, "What if they expect me to say something back?"

"Then formulate a compliment when you're ready to give them one." He's surprising himself with how smoothly he's generating these answers. Perhaps it's the switched roles of him being the one who knows what he wants to say for once, or the subject matter pertaining to a personal matter of yours. Either way, he seemed to help you deduced from your outlook appearing more enthusiastic and satisfied.

"Okay," you said at the sight of your house just a few feet away. "I guess this is it for now."

"Yeah..." He really didn't want to go, but like you said, it's only temporary. Had he taken his line of sight away from the streetlamp on the side, he would've noticed your shared hesitance to end the conversation. Though he supposes he probably felt it in the unanticipated hug you pulled him into, feeling himself go red in the face from your affectionate side that all too often makes itself known around him.

He hovered an arm over your shoulders, not quite sure if he should reciprocate, this hug somehow feels more intimate than the quick ones you give him back at school.

"Thank you." You spoke faintly into his team jacket.

"Oh, uh, no problem! I mean, I really didn't do much-"

"You did, more than you think," you finished with a brief tightening of you arms before letting go.

He lost his chance to hug you back, but the beaming smile you sent his way when you pulled back somehow made him forget about his second long disappointment. Your infectious exuberance made a smile of his own grow on his face as he waved and said, "See you tomorrow!"

"You too!" You yelled as you walked backwards and waved back.

As he turned around to find his way back to his own home, he thought back to the small exchange just now and realized you already got off to a good start with accepting compliments by thanking him so simply.

He also realized he likes hearing your wholehearted "thank you"s more than your rushed and forced returns of praise.

Bokuto

"You don't have to say that, Kou."

The partially grey haired boy tilted his head much like an owl at your statement from his seat across from you, subconsciously slackening his hold on his pencil at you once again shooting his compliment down like a fighter jet. "What do you mean 'I don't have to say it', it's true."

You seemed conflicted but still smiled as you ignored your homework on the table in front of you to elaborate, "I'm saying that you don't have to say all these things to make me feel better or-"

"And like I said, I say these things because they're true!" If his tone wasn't an indicator of his growing exasperation, his puffed out cheeks certainly were. It's no secret he has a huge crush on you, well, it's no secret to everyone except you. It's not as though he's tried to hide his fondness of you however, he takes any opportunity he can to hang around you and and his heart jumps for joy when you give him the time of day. The only bad thing he has to admit to himself is how you can't seem to take him seriously, at least not in the way he wants you to.

"You're just being nice!"

"Gah!" The young man looked as though you'd just ripped his soul out with those four words. He dramatically dropped his head to the table and mumbled in a melancholic tone, "It's just like Akaashi said..."

"W-What did he say?" Nothing bad I hope.

"He said you've probably been ignoring my compliments because you think I'm being nice." Though his face is hidden, you can imagine he bears a strong resemblance to a puppy who just lost their favorite toy. He fervidly tried to ignore his friend's words, no matter how true they seem to ring at the time. Akaashi even went on to explain why he thought that was the case, every single one of his points ranging from you laughing Koutarou off to you occasionally saying he's exaggerating, all of which just served to set off alarms in Koutarou's head. That's actually what led him to run for the hills and find you to have a spontaneous study session in the library (disguised as an interrogation of the sorts).

"Oh. Is that...not the case?" Now you feel quite dumb for making assumptions.

Hearing your tone change, Koutarou lifted his head just enough to see the questioning face you give him, and decided to take the reigns of this conversation by saying, "Depends. Why do you think I'm just being nice to you?"

You cringed at the whole you dug for yourself, knowing he wasn't going to let this slide, and diffidently answered, "Well, y'know...it's you-"

He sat upright in a flash, "Is there something wrong with me!?"

"No, no," you shushed him as a reminder of the location you're currently in, "there's nothing wrong with you at all."

"Oh, okay."

You saw a imaginary glow of pride appear around him after you said that and internally laughed, but you had to pull yourself out of the sweet moment to clarify, "You're a really positive guy, so much so that...I have to wonder how much of what you say is genuine or out of courtesy."

The glow died down, "Oh." Only to return in a different form when he perked up determinedly, "But I wouldn't lie to you about something I compliment you over, really."

"But you compliment me about everything!" You inwardly flinched at your loss of control over your volume, but continued, "Kou, it's fine and all to compliment me, but you even have something nice to say about my flaws. It's one thing if it's debatable whether or not it's really a flaw, but me accidentally wearing mismatched socks to school isn't something you compliment."

"But they were cute-"

"See? You're doing it again," you pointed strongly.

"But I can't help it when-" I like you! He nearly finished his sentence but closed his mouth before he said something he wasn't quite ready to put out there.

"When what?" You're seriously wondering what he's trying to say and why he stopped himself from saying it.

"...When I care for you." He spoke a bit embarrassedly as he pouted to the side, something that noticeably caught you off guard. "I only compliment you so much because you deserve it. Like when you fixed your hair up, or when you submitted that artwork for the club application-"

"Oh God, don't remind me of that atrocity."

"I really liked it!" He passionately added as he shook his fists in front of himself, "And when you helped me with tutoring! Half of this stuff I could hardly understand without your help." He most definitely would've kept going on had you not put a hand up to stop him from doing so.

His words struck a chord in you and made you think for a few seconds about what he just said. Mayhaps the one thing that kept you from totally dismissing his compliments were how specific they tend to be, as he'd just exemplified, proof that he wasn't pulling all of this out of his ass and just being nice. You felt an innocent warmth tickle at your cheeks, but paid no mind to it, "You really think my tutoring helped?"

He finally spoke happily at the first sign of you taking his words in, "I know it did, Akaashi even said so. Even though I kind of got us off track from what's in front of us," he finished with a laugh.

Laughing along with him, "We should have plenty of time to finish this."

"Oh, do you have the macarons you mentioned earlier?" He excitedly peeked to your back beside you.

"After we finish."

He obliged innocently, not even aware of the oncoming compliment, "Okay, you know I can't help myself, they're so good~"

They're not all that. You nearly let that slip out before stopping yourself, not wanting to contradict his reassuring words already, and also knowing he'd never fib about food of all things. Thinking back to his words however makes you dwell on what he was going to say earlier before changing his answer.

An 'I like you' is probably too unrealistic.

A sudden epiphany of everything he's ever said and done had your mind blanking on you when it quite literally shone a light on a plausible yet unbelievable theory. A glance at him revealed he'd been staring at you the whole time you zoned out, the sight making your heart skip a beat as you asked nervously, "Sorry, did you say something?"

He shook his head and looked down to his paper in giddiness, "Nope."

It got hotter under your button-up, your brain struggling to comprehend that you're heavily blushing right now and doing a poor job of hiding it.

You thought to yourself as you turned to your own paper and fanned yourself, I'm fucked.

A/N: Thank you for reading this hot mess. I wish I didn't take so long with this because I've been talking about it for a few days now, but it was good practice writing about multiple characters at one like this (that and practice for writing headcanon lists of this type).

©lexinympho 2022, please do not edit or repost my works anywhere on this platform or another

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daydream-cement · 1 year

Text

The Road Trip Ch. 3

Our characters are creating relationships and destroying them. More importantly, they have no idea what is to come next.

this fic has been such a joy to write with my @bri-sonat !!! initially this crossover idea was supposed to be something so much more simple, but em and i just kept writing.... and writing... and writing (and i couldn't be happier about it).

After hours of wasting away at the pool's edge, Larissa retreated indoors in search of a meal, unsure of who to expect wandering about the house. The shapeshifter ducked into the kitchen, pulling her swimsuit cover tighter around her waist when she saw she wasn’t alone.

Miranda was shoveling cereal into her mouth happily, waving to Larissa and speaking with a full mouth as she entered, “Hey, Riss! Can you believe it’s 6 already?”

“I cannot.” Larissa shook her head, opening up the fridge to see what food it was stocked with. The shapeshifter happily pulled a premade salad from the fridge and then began searching around the kitchen for silverware, “How are you feeling?”

Miranda waved a hand like she was batting away the question, “I’m fine. I was just tired. Brienne was being all chivalrous and overprotective.” She certainly wasn’t upset with Brienne’s actions, only a true friend would do something so kind.

“What’s her deal anyway? Earlier I told her she was attractive and she was furious with me…” Larissa tried to keep her tone casual and polite, not wanting to rouse any suspicion from Miranda. The headmistress eventually found a fork on her third try at a random drawer and then joined Miranda at the dinner table.

Miranda shrugged as she spectated Larissa, taking a seat across from her, “I dunno. Oh! You should ask Phas, I saw that they were pretty chummy before we started playing.” The constable’s mouth was filled with half-chewed cereal as she spoke, eyes lighting up when she remembered seeing the two women speaking earlier. “I really know nothing about Brienne. She’s so, hmmm, what’s the word I’m searching for here? Oh! Mysterious!” As she tried to look for the word, she gestured wildly with her free hand, trying to will the adjective to come to mind. The headmistress could almost see the bulb light above the cereal-eating woman’s head once it did.

“I’m certainly not talking to that woman. If I set foot anywhere near her room, I wouldn’t doubt harm may come to me.” Larissa’s voice was more of a low murmur, wanting to keep anyone other than Miranda from hearing her. One of the shapeshifter’s hands gripped the edge of the salad bowl, the other manipulating the fork into mixing the salad.

“Oh, Weems, you flatter me so. Glad to hear you speak so highly of me.” Both of the women snapped their heads towards the sound of the new voice that had entered their space. Phasma stood in the archway, eyeing both Larissa and Miranda who looked like they had gotten caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Larissa’s brow furrowed momentarily before the headmistress finally straightened her back and applied a diplomatic smile to her face. For years she had been working with people she didn’t quite like, what was another week? The mixing of her salad slowed and Larissa gestured to the empty seats with a nod of her head, “Care to join us, Captain?”

“Are you sure you want me to? After what I heard you two talk about I think it’d be best if I had my dinner up in my room. Don’t let me disturb you. Carry on.” Phasma moved into the kitchen fully, making a direct line for the fridge.

“If you wish…” Larissa shrugged, not caring where Phasma chose to eat.

Miranda seemed to have a difference of opinion, her kind nature bubbling to the surface, “No way! Phas, you have to eat dinner with us! I wanna hear stories about you working for the first order. I’m sure you have some good ones.” Miranda pointed to a chair directly across from Larissa and her tone was borderline begging Phasma to stay. The constable was hoping all of the women could be friends after the trip, so promoting togetherness was a part of her grand agenda.

Phasma opened the fridge door, turning her upper body as she did to look back at the two women who were sitting at the dinner table. Miranda stared giddily at Phasma, whereas Larissa held intense eye contact with her salad, “Well. If you insist.” Grabbing a protein shake from the fridge, she closed the door and moved to join the constable and headmistress.

“Really? Oh, cool!! I have so many questions. Well, not exactly questions, but I wanna know everything you’re willing to share. How many planets have you been to?” Miranda tried stilling herself, but she was vibrating in her chair from the pure excitement of eating dinner with Phasma. For years, the constable had enjoyed movies and television about traveling in space and now she had the opportunity to sit and talk with someone who had experienced everything she could only dream of.

Larissa glanced up at Phasma at Miranda’s question, curious herself of the answer. The shapeshifter stabbed at her salad, filling her mouth to avoid her having to join the conversation in any capacity.

“First of all, slow down. Second of all, it depends. Planets in total, or planets that are still intact?” Phasma sat down across from Miranda, leaning back in her chair and twisting the lid of her shake open to take her first sip.

Miranda’s eyes widened at Phasma’s words, and a grin broke out. Phasma’s words reminded Miranda of so many of the movies and shows she had watched over her lifetime. She tried to reel in her excitement, but it was near impossible, “Both? How many planets have you destroyed? Were they a threat to who you have pledged allegiance to?”

“Well. Planets? Too many to count, if I had to venture a guess, I would say fifty, sixty, maybe? As for planets being destroyed, I’d say half of my previous numbers. If you want a precise number I will have to check my journal. I destroyed them because I felt like it.” Phasma answered all of Miranda’s quick questions, speaking of her immorality and crimes as if talking about her dinner from last night. Speaking so casually of blowing up people’s homes, and for fun, of all things.

Larissa eyed Phasma, unable to hide her calculating look. The shapeshifter found the captain to be strange in many ways, but these stories seemed almost unbelievable. Miranda turned to the headmistress in shock when Larissa asked a question of her own, her tone looking to challenge the captain, “And how many people have you killed?”

Phasma’s eyes shifted from Miranda to Larissa when she spoke up. Her brows cocked in surprise and interest, her eyes analyzing the shapeshifter. She hadn’t expected the principal to join in on the conversation, especially not with such a loaded query, “Now that. That, I lost count of many years ago. Stopped counting after I hit one hundred, there wasn’t simply any space left in my journals. And it is so hard to count bodies, and body parts when they are blown up and mangled beyond recognition.” The captain wore a fond smile as she spoke, proud of reliving and retelling her vile actions.

Larissa’s lip curled involuntarily at the more gory details, not appreciating the candid reply. The headmistress turned her gaze back down to the salad, trying to regain her will to eat. Miranda, however, only had more questions for the captain, “Wait… do you work for the good guys or the bad guys?”

Phasma noticed the headmistress' disgusted expression, “If you didn’t want to know, you shouldn’t have asked, darling.” The captain turned her attention back to Miranda, choosing to answer the question neutrally, “Depends on who you ask.” She took another sip of her shake as she waited for the constable in front of her to elaborate on the inquiry.

Larissa couldn’t hold her tongue, the need for a verbal joust spilling from her mouth when Phasma was done speaking, “And you kill to- What? Fill the void? Who hurt little Phasma that you can’t seem to not threaten someone at every turn?” The headmistress began to regret her words immediately, knowing the captain was sure to bite back.

Phasma’s previous expression fell, the inherent glower and piercing eyes returning to her features after Larissa spoke. Her eyes immediately went back to the headmistress, leaning forward in her chair to get even closer to the platinum-blonde woman, “No. I kill because it feels good. Because I want to. And because I can.” The captain stared into the shapeshifter’s eyes, assessing whether or not the potential spout was worth her time.

Larissa held firm, keeping her posture and maintaining searing eye contact. The headmistress was putting all of her faith in Lucifer to not let Phasma break the only house rule. She gave Phasma a soft smile, breaking eye contact to gather another forkful of salad, gazing into Phasma’s eyes and speaking before pushing the greens into her mouth, “And here I would’ve guessed not enough hugs from mother.”

Phasma huffed a dry laugh, “Oh. So now I have mommy issues?” Leaning back in her chair once again, she took another sip, “What an astute observation. Where did you learn that, during your own childhood? I’m sure having a cold and distant mother leads to seeing some equal signs. You would know better than most, no?”

“More so that you remind me of my students. The same ones who lash out for attention and hurt others when they really just need love, hm? But your amateur psychology was worth a shot.” Larissa wasn’t about to reveal any aspect of her relationship with her mother to this woman. Instead, the headmistress only dug her claws in deeper, rolling her shoulders back as she stared at Phasma.

“Real interesting connection there, only issue is, I am nothing like your little child students. There was no ‘amateur psychology’ in play, I too am observant, you know.” Phasma smirked over her drink, maintaining the heated stare.

Larissa hadn’t experienced this much verbal warfare since she herself was a student at Nevermore. The headmistress scoffed and dropped her fork in the bowl to fold her arms over her chest, “Observant? Not a word I would have used to describe you, but sure, if you think so.”

“Not observant, you say? Would a non-observant person have seen the way you look at our dear Lord Commander? The way you eye-fuck her when you think no one is watching, hmm?” Phasma leaned closer and closer to Larissa, an extremely smug smirk on her face, watching for every single reaction the headmistress could wear. The captain was now playing dirty.

Larissa pursed her lips, looking Phasma up and down before making eye contact once more, “I know good art when I see it.” Pushing her chair back, Larissa moved to stand, earning some height over Phasma, even if it was momentary. She considered holding the next thought in, but the need to win the argument was too great, “You can’t be all that observant because you would have noticed me eye-fucking you too.”

The captain stood herself, a wry chuckle escaping her lips, “Oh no, you misunderstand. I noticed that as well. I just didn’t want to embarrass you by bringing it up.” Phasma tilted her head to the side slightly, “Which is why I find this conversation so amusing. The fact that you were arguing with me when you couldn’t keep your eyes off of my thighs just a few hours ago.”

“What can I say? You are fun to argue with.” Larissa nabbed her salad bowl from the table and took her leave. She knew Phasma would take this as a win, but she couldn’t stand to be in the woman’s presence with the deep red blush crawling up her face.

The chromed trooper laughed deeply as she watched Larissa leave in her periphery, her booming voice shouting after the shapeshifter, “This was fun, let’s do it again sometime!”

Always needing the last word, Larissa paused momentarily, “I’m sure you would just love that, wouldn’t you?” She knew it wasn’t the best comeback, but her frustration got the best of her. The headmistress stormed from the home, choosing to finish her dinner outside, muttering to herself in the lounge area.

“I would love that very much! I always enjoy frustrating people and making them flustered!” Phasma knew Larissa had left the house, hearing the closing of the door, but the quiet house carried her voice, and she knew that the headmistress had to have heard at least a fraction of her words. The captain took her seat, returning to her spot across from Miranda, and continued sipping on her shake.

Miranda turned her gaze down to the cereal bowl, unsure if she wanted to ask any additional questions. There was no way she wanted to be on the receiving end of any discussion like that.

Phasma took a deep breath, and almost like the argument never happened, she, scarily calm and composed, looked to Miranda, “So, any more questions?”

Miranda only shook her head, focusing on finishing the rest of her cereal so she could go anywhere that wasn’t under the captain’s uncomfortable gaze. The soft clinking of metal against the ceramic bowl was the only noise that came from Miranda’s side of the table.

“Very well. This has been a very fulfilling dinner. Thank you for allowing me to join.” Phasma smiled to herself, satisfied with the end of her heated discussion with Larissa, this had been the most interesting thing that had happened all day. She finished the rest of her shake, standing up to throw away her trash. Once she had done so, she took her exit, leaving Miranda alone in the kitchen.

Miranda finished up her meal and left her bowl in the sink, wanting to explore the house until she found Brienne. At least she knew the knight wouldn’t have any rude comments to throw back and forth. The constable was excited for a fun trip with new friends, but this vacation was beginning to look bleak.

The constable padded down to Brienne’s room first, knocking gently and calling out to the other woman, “Bri, it’s Miranda! Are you busy?”

Ever since Brienne brought Miranda to her room and provided her with whatever she needed, she had retreated to her room and hadn’t left since. At the knock on her door and the voice from the other side, the knight smiled, glad that the constable was feeling well enough to be up and walking, “Not particularly.” The Lord Commander’s voice was muffled from the other side and seconds after, the hardwood was opened, “What can I do for you, Constable?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Phas and Rissa had one of those knock-down, drag-out fights and I think it’s best to leave them alone for a bit. We could go for a walk or explore the house or just sit around. Whatever you want…” Miranda shrugged and tried to sound impartial, but deep down she was jumping at the bit for Brienne to hang out with her. While Phasma was cool for living in space, Miranda felt a kinship with the lady knight, assuming they may share many of the same experiences.

“Well, that certainly sounds unpleasant.” Brienne furrowed her brows, stepping out of her room and closing the door behind her. “I would love to hang out. We can do whatever you wish.” The knight smiled at Miranda, wishing to take her mind off the surely terrifying experience of being stuck in a spout between Phasma and Larissa. “I am glad to see that you are doing better, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m alright.” Miranda waved off the other woman’s care and took a step back, hoping to draw Brienne from her room, “We can sit in the living room. I wouldn’t want to invade your space. I want to hear about you being a knight- I mean, Lord Commander. That’s really cool…”

Brienne laughed fondly at the constable’s quick correction, “I am still a knight. Just a different title and job. I can tell you about both if you wish, I have many stories.”

“Yes, tell me everything. It isn’t every day you meet a woman like you.” Miranda gave a quick smile, beginning to slowly lead herself and Brienne towards the main room of the home, ready to soak up every story Brienne had to offer.

“Well, most of the interesting stories happened before I was officially knighted. There’s the story of how I fought against and beat two of the strongest fighters, not at the same time, of course. Or the story of the war against the white walkers, that one took place after I got my knighthood.” Brienne walked with her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke, maneuvering the house to arrive in the living room.

“Who are the strongest fighters? And what’s a white walker? Is that like a ghost? Probably not…” Miranda settled on the couch, drawing a pillow to her chest and staring intently at the knight, ready to consume and memorize each of her stories. The constable was quick to appoint women as ‘personal heroes’ especially when they live lives and accomplish things she could only dream of.

Brienne had taken her seat on the couch next to Miranda, sitting stiffly upright with her palms resting flat on her thighs, “Well, there was Ser Jaime Lannister, I was ordered to escort him and ended up having to fight him, his manacled form most definitely helped me, though. Then there was The Hound, he used to be in the King’s Guard, and he was a worthy opponent, I was very surprised to see him alive.” As the Lord Commander spoke, she grew more and more relaxed, allowing herself to lean back a tiny bit. “White walkers are dead beings from the other side of the wall, they never truly died, you just had to keep fighting until the Night King was slayed.”

“They never truly died? Night King? How many of them were there?” Miranda leaned forward in her seat, literally at the edge of her seat from Brienne’s tales. From the way her mouth remained agape and her brow furrowed, Miranda was unable to hide her true wonderment from the thought of Brienne fighting zombies.

The knight smiled heartwarmingly, never had someone been so invested in her anecdotes before, “Exactly so. You could slash as much as you wanted, but as soon as one fell to the ground, it rose. There were hundreds of them. White walkers and wights as far as the eye could see. At one point, I and another knight were cornered, our swords wildly gliding through the air, fighting with every single ounce of strength left in us.” Brienne had opted for dramatics, lowering her voice as she spoke, telling the story theatrically for Miranda’s enjoyment. She lowered her voice even more before she began speaking of the leader. “Yes, the Night King. His skin was wrinkly and ice white, eyes glowing and blue as The Shivering Sea. He is said to have existed since the age of the First Men. You kill him, you kill them all. All his troops.”

Miranda fell into the dramatics, enjoying every second as she envisioned Brienne battling the white walkers. She couldn’t help herself when she became Brienne’s biggest fan, “But how did you survive? I mean, probably because you are the coolest person to ever exist. I swear to God, Bri. You are amazing. I couldn’t imagine doing anything like this. Are there... Are there many other knights that are women?”

“That’s a very good question. I’d like to think it was pure luck. Or that the Gods were smiling down at me. Or maybe it was pure skill. All I do know is that had that battle gone on for another minute, I would be one of the bodies on the frozen ground.” Brienne paused for a second, thinking back to the moments when she thought she was done for before the white walkers crumpled to the ground. “No. I am the only one. Sadly, it is frowned upon for a woman to be anything else than a woman, in what society deems as ‘traditional.’”

“I was the only woman at my department for a little while... It can be... rough.” Miranda’s eyes fell to the floor, moments from those two years flashing through her mind of the ‘man’s world’ she was expected to exist in.

“What changed?” Brienne had turned her body towards Miranda when she saw the constable’s gaze fall on the floor, her tone low and gentle, her eyes locked on the policewoman next to her.

“Well, my partner came to work at the department. Robin and I didn’t see eye to eye at first, but after a while... we became friends. She is always nice enough to stand up for me when the guys say something offhand.” Miranda brought her gaze back up to meet Brienne’s, slightly embarrassed at her admission that she typically refuses to stand up for herself, especially when she has painted Brienne to be such a fearsome individual in her mind.

“I’m glad you have someone like that on your side, though you should start standing up for yourself as well. Recognize your own worth, your own value.” Brienne smiled fondly at Miranda, empathizing with much of what the constable was talking about. Knowing all too well what it felt like to be constantly bad-mouthed and ridiculed.

Miranda only shrugged, knowing it was unlikely she would stand up for herself unless she was pushed to the brink like she had been with Robin when their relationship was on the rocks, “I’m sure the guys are just joking most of the time. No reason to cause trouble if I can help it. Don’t worry about it, Bri. I’ll make a commissioned rank one day while the rest of those guys are stuck as sergeants and constables.” The constable smiled to herself, picturing the rank she could hold one day.

Brienne frowned and drew her brows together, in her experience, men’s so-called ‘jokes’ always held their version of their truth. “Men call the actual insults jokes so they can say, ‘it’s not that serious,’ or ‘you can’t take a joke.’ Their ‘jokes’ are just mockery disguised as jest so they can play it off like one.” The knight was leaning forward, arms resting on her thighs as she spoke to Miranda. “I assume they would be quite pissed about the fact that they would have to take their orders from a woman, I know you will do a wonderful job.”

“Ha. So you’re telling me they are serious when they call me a man? Great.” Miranda tried playing off her pain as a joke, but her tone didn’t quite land. Rather than continue on the subject, Miranda attempted to change the subject, “So what’s your deal with not wanting to get in the pool? If you don’t know how to swim, I can totally show you how to swim if you want.”

“Most definitely.” Brienne considered reaching out and placing a comforting hand on the constable’s knee but didn’t know if that would be appreciated, considering people’s previous reaction to any type of physical intimacy from her, so she refrained from doing so. “I grew up on an island, so I know how to swim. My reason for not wanting to get in the pool is far more complex and complicated, it runs deep and has for years.” The Lord Commander wasn’t all that keen on bringing up all of her childhood and adult life experiences she had gone through because of the way she looked and the career she had. Instead, she opted for a short and simple answer, hoping it would satisfy Miranda’s inquisitiveness.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry...” Miranda trailed off, unsure of what to say to Brienne next now that she had effectively ruined their discussion, “Well, I-”

The constable paused mid-sentence when she saw Larissa’s pale, swimsuit-clad form from the corner of her eye. The shapeshifter spoke up, joining the conversation uninvited, “What are you two up to?” Larissa strode into the living room, landing on the cushion next to Miranda, and tossing her sheer swimsuit cover over her legs.

“Brienne was telling me about all of her adventures. Rissa, I’m telling you she is the coolest person on Earth.” The constable’s hand reached out and gripped Larissa’s forearm, shaking the headmistress to indicate how excited she really was about hearing the knight’s tales. Larissa kept her eyes on Miranda, not wishing to make Brienne any more upset than she had earlier.

The knight laughed softly and shook her head at how Miranda spoke about her, “I would not say that I am the coolest person on Earth, I think you are overselling me a little bit to the Principal here.”

“Don’t listen to her, Riss. She is underselling herself. She has fought zombies and kicked men’s asses in battle. I get why you like her so much.” Miranda’s mouth was moving faster than her brain as she spoke to Larissa, spilling a quick summary of their conversation, including more than she should have revealed. The headmistress’s gaze narrowed at the constable’s revelation, wishing the woman could have just kept her mouth shut.

“That is true, I have done tha- What?” Brienne stared wide-eyed at Miranda who hadn’t been able to stop the words that tumbled from her lips. The knight released a sigh before standing up, her new friend apparently being in on the forever-ongoing plan to point and laugh at Brienne the Beast. She felt a deep, and cutting disappointment and sadness, but had learned long ago to not expect much from people; their true colors always show sooner or later. “This has been a wonderful conversation but I think it is time for me to retire for the night. I will see you both tomorrow.” The Lord Commander quickly bowed before leaving the room, not allowing the constable or the headmistress to protest or respond in any way.

“Miranda,” Larissa hissed, burying her face in her hands in sheer embarrassment. At least Phasma would have teased her about it in private instead of making her ‘crush’ known to Brienne.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped out! I didn’t think it would make her upset!” Guilt washed over Miranda and a pit of anxiety began growing in the woman’s stomach for upsetting her friend. The constable moved to stand so she could follow after Brienne, wishing to comfort her and apologize in any way she could, but Larissa reached out a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Leave her be, Miranda,” Larissa warned, but Miranda pulled her arm loose, choosing to follow after Brienne instead, not wanting to give the knight any longer to think about her words.

Miranda bounded after Brienne, watching her door close from a distance. Knocking at the door, Miranda thought over her final words to Brienne, wondering what she could have said to cause the knight to take her leave so suddenly, “Bri, what did I say? I didn’t mean to upset you. Please just talk to me and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the trip if you want.”

As Miranda knocked and waited at Brienne’s door, Larissa passed her by to ascend the stairs to her room, speaking softly to Miranda, “Just leave her be. I don’t think she likes compliments.” Without another word, Larissa retired to her room, wanting a shower and a good night's sleep. Miranda wasn’t about to give up, the constable was prepared to sit outside the knight’s room all night if she had to.

“Hilmarson, if you have come to insult me even more, don’t, I got it the first time. And if you have come to apologize, I have no interest in hearing your excuses, own up to your words.” Brienne's voice was muffled on the other side of the door, so much that Miranda could barely make out what she was saying. There was a twinge of woe and hurt in the knight’s voice and she sounded so defeated, having given up on making friends with any of the women.

Larissa had insulted her, and so had Miranda, and Phasma was, well, Phasma, the captain had no interest in making any friends whatsoever and Lucifer was seldom there. Brienne had come to terms with that she would spend the rest of the week alone amongst people. Sure, she would socialize with them to stay civil, but she would not allow herself to hope.

“I want to apologize! But I need to know what I’m apologizing for! I don’t want to say anything to hurt you again, but I truly don’t understand.” Miranda leaned her forehead against the door as she spoke to the knight. She was trying her best to convey her most genuine of tones, but it was hard when Brienne couldn’t see the look on Miranda’s face, “I have no excuses for you.”

Brienne was unsure if she had the energy to indulge in this now, it had been a long day, and she wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed and get her hours in, to get this day over with.

Maybe Miranda hadn’t meant it in a hurtful way, maybe the knight had let her own insecurities and knowledge of how the world saw her take over. She was almost certain that the constable hadn’t meant to hurt her judging from her tone, but the Lord Commander couldn’t shake the forever gnawing feeling of humiliation lurking around every corner.

The knight opted for placing her sleep on hold for a few minutes, deciding that Miranda deserved an explanation and not the silent treatment. Brienne opened her door, the constable almost falling into her when she did, having to regain her balance, “Do you wish to do this in my doorway, or do you wish to come in?”

“I-I don’t want to intrude... I just- I don’t know what I said Brienne. I wanted you to know how great you were... Honest..” Miranda fidgeted with her hands, trying her best to stay calm in the terribly nerve-wracking situation. It took everything in her to meet Brienne’s gaze, but she knew she must if the knight were to believe her, “I, uhm, don’t have many friends so I try to avoid losing them when I find them...”

Brienne assessed the woman in front of her, looking for that usual sign that told her she was being made fun of, finding nothing remotely close to it inside Miranda’s eyes, “I will ask you one simple question. Did you mean what you said? Me being the coolest person on Earth and all that. Did you mean it?”

The constable didn’t hesitate with her answer, “Yes. I meant every word. You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.” Miranda decided to keep her answer short, not wanting to get herself into any more trouble by continuing to speak.

The knight smiled tenderly, “That was all I needed to know and I am trusting it to be the truth.” Brienne still couldn’t shake the nagging voice warning her of the inevitable derision that had become commonplace, but she decided to believe her new friend, praying she wouldn’t regret it. “Goodnight, Constable Hilmarson.”

Miranda nodded, “Night, Bri.” Brienne’s reaction wasn’t exactly as thorough as she expected, but Miranda knew she wasn’t entitled to much more. Rather than wait for the knight to close the door, Miranda flashed a smile and took her leave, deciding to adjourn back to her own room while she and Brienne were on a high note. The knight had closed her door after the constable left, getting ready for bed and finally being able to lay down in a comfortable bed after one of the longest days in her life, Brienne was sure.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwen christie #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #got #captain phasma #star wars tfa #star wars #star wars the last jedi #star wars the force awakens #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar (sandman)#the sandman #fanfic #fanfiction #crack fic #the road trip

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not-a-space-alien · 5 months

Text

Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset Chapter 25MS

For this chapter, I thought it wouldn't add much to have two separate narratives. So this one is a fusion chapter! MM and SS are like this 🤝 Hope you enjoy!

Story masterpost

Note: this is NOT the end of the story, but we are getting close to a break in the narrative. I expect there will be 2-3 more chapters in this part!

Warnings for this chapter: Some casual misogyny, classism/racism(?) (if you consider "human" a race)

In this chapter: Getting away with murder, an important announcement from the director, and maybe possibly potentially getting through to a shithead teenage boy.

***

“Can we at least turn the television on, so he’s not just alone with his thoughts all day?”

Ari looked from Valen, sitting on the couch with a look of concern on his face, to Sebastian, still locked in the coffin nearby. She sighed. “All right, fine.”

Valen gave a joyous little wiggle, as though he really wanted to watch TV.

Ari took the remote and flipped the TV on. It was on a news station.

“Do you have access to any nature documentaries?” he asked, excited.

Ari handed him the remote. “Knock yourself out. Just don’t buy any of the pay-per-view shit.”

She left the two vampires in the living room to go talk to the other humans in the dining room. Bailey and Jerome had changed into their pajamas. “We’re gonna hit the hay, okay?” Bailey said.

“Yeah,” Ari said. “We all had a long night, but you two went on patrol, so you go first. I’m gonna wake you up around four so me and Lex can take a turn, though.”

The two men absconded to use Lex and Ari’s bedroom. “So I guess we just have one more day with Valen,” Lex said, sounding sad.

“Yeah,” Ari said, trying not to care. She bumped Lex with her elbow. “Come on, let’s go make the most of it.”

Valen was flipping through the channels when they came back in. Sebastian had been watching the TV, but as soon as they came back in, he turned away, pretending not to be interested.

Ari plopped down on the couch, putting one arm around Valen. “How ya doing, buddy?”

Valen gave a quick, nervous nod. “I’m doing well. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Good.” She gave him an awkward pat.

Valen fidgeted with the rubberized buttons on the remote. “So, Nick…”

“We took his body back to the base,” Lex said. “We made it look like Sebastian killed him.”

Ari glanced at Sebastian. “You don’t mind, right?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” Valen said, hugging his arms around himself.

Lex scooted closer.

The phone rang. Ari groaned. “All right, here we go.”

She got up and answered. Valen clung to Lex and listened tensely.

“Yo.” It was Cyril, one of the other hunters at the base. “What the fuck happened to Nick?”

“Huh?” Ari said. She’d been practicing the lie. Just to make sure. “I dunno, he finally grow some balls?”

“He’s fucking dead!”

“God I wish.”

“Bitch, he’s dead for real!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! What happened last night when you came to drop off the coffin?”

“Oh.” Ari let out an audible grimace. “We didn’t actually go out last night to return the coffin. We just told Nick we would to get him to leave. He showed up to our house, and-”

“The fuck you mean you didn’t go out?”

“We didn’t go out, shithead! Nick came over to harass us at our house, we told him we’d come over later to get him to leave, then we stayed home because fuck him.” This was perfectly in character with the way they typically interacted with Nick and shouldn’t draw any suspicion. “I didn’t fucking kill him, although I kind of wish I had.” This with a wink at Valen that made the vampire flush and sink deeper into the couch.

Cyril could be heard cursing on the other end. “So you didn’t see what happened?”

“We were at our fucking house, dumbass. We didn’t see anything that wasn’t at our goddamn house. I was fucking my girlfriend last night.”

“Jesus Christ. You dumb cunt.”

“How’d he die? Like what happened?”

“How do you fucking think? The damn vampire he wanted to play with killed him. I guess after that old one was weak for so long, he forgot a fresh one would be, uh, dangerous.”

“Right.” Ari stood stone-faced for a minute. “Well, anything else?”

“Uhhhhhhh-”

“I’ll take that as a no. Don’t bother me again.”

She hung up.

Valen dashed forward into her arms, and she hugged him. He couldn’t believe it. They really thought it was okay that he killed Nick, and he was going to get away with it, and then tonight he was going to get to safety, to go home.

“Put a hold on the waterworks,” Ari said, and Valen wiped his eyes. “You’re okay.”

Valen went back to the couch and sat primly, hands on his lap. He looked over at Sebastian, feeling pleased with himself. “That man who hurt us is dead, and we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Sebastian looked relieved despite himself.

They passed some time watching a nature documentary with Valen before the phone rang again. Ari let out an even more exasperated groan.

She ripped the phone off the hook. “What?”

“Ariana,” said a very serious voice. “This is Director Griswald.”

Ari straightened up. “Ah? Hello?”

Valen clung to Lex once again, all his nerves returning. The director. The boss vampire hunter. Surely he wouldn’t be able to hear Valen, right? He wouldn’t be able to tell Valen was there somehow, right? Lex held him comfortingly.

“You’ve heard about what happened to Nick?”

“Yeah,” Ari said, more nervous than she had been lying to Cyril. “Hear he got burned playing with fire.”

“I’ve been informed you were expected to see Nick last night to drop off some restraints for the new vampire.”

“Y…Yeah, we were supposed to, but we ended up not doing that.”

“Why not?”

“We… I’m sorry, Director G, we just really don’t–didn’t–like Nick, we didn’t think it was very important.”

She waited tensely for his response.

“All right,” he said, finally. “It's not like Nick didn't have any restraints, and he knew how to keep the new research specimen secure. So you didn’t see anything last night? No other information to give me?”

“No, sir,” she said. “We were home all night. We weren’t scheduled to go on patrol. We had a night in.”

The director hemmed and hmmed. “All right, Ariana. Thank you. Please call me if you think of anything or remember anything else.”

He hung up. Ari replaced the phone, hand hurting from gripping it so tightly. She let out an exhausted breath and came back over, sprawling out on the couch. “Well, I think we might have really pulled it off.”

More waiting. More nature documentaries. Valen couldn’t seem to get enough of them.

And then the phone rang again. Ari groaned, screwing up her eyes. “For the love of-” She trundled back over and picked it up. “What?”

It was Franklyn, another co-worker at the hunter’s guild, one they liked better than Cyril. “Ari, dude! Director G is on the news! Flip over to channel 4!”

Valen, hearing the conversation, fumbled with the remote and changed the channel. Sure enough, the director’s stony visage was visible in front of a mic, as though he were being interviewed. The banner at the bottom of the screen read DALTON GRISWALD, DIRECTOR, DEPT. OF NOCTURNAL SECURITY, which then advanced to the headline EXPERIMENT GONE WRONG? Underneath of that was the ticker tape showing which counties had the most recent V alerts–it was always the same handful near the border.

“Thanks, Frankie,” Ari said distantly. “I’ll call you back.” She hung up and went to stand in front of the TV.

“-save many lives,” the director was saying, and Lex used the remote to turn the volume up. “The experiments were certainly controversial, but we had a strong justification.”

“And why didn’t you make the public aware of it?” the interviewer asked.

“There was minimal danger,” the director claimed. “Except to the staff members handling the vampire, obviously.”

“But how can you claim there isn’t any danger when there’s a vampire running around loose out there now?”

“Our guild members work tirelessly to protect the people we serve. We’re spending the day checking for all the places where the escaped vampire could have gone. It’s no more risk than the usual presence of-”

“Mr. Griswald, how can you-”

“Please let me finish-”

“But how can you-”

“No, no, let me-”

“Director, how can you-”

“Please stop interrupting me, Nancy, I’m trying to answer your question.”

The headline at the bottom changed to GUILD SCIENTIST SLAIN. The director took a deep breath. “The tragic loss we experienced today was the result of personal negligence, not our program with live vampires. Nick was a very close, long-time friend of mine, and our work will certainly suffer without his contributions moving forward. However, I can’t deny the risk inherent in such work, and even if I believe we have a firm justification and the ability to work safely with enhanced security, I can’t deny the public has all the reason to be nervous about it given what’s happened. Therefore that’s why I’ve decided, starting today, I’m shutting down that work.”

“Yes!” Lex and Ari stood, giving each other wild high-fives.

“Yes!”

“There will be no more live captures,” the director continued. “No one in our organization is prepared to continue Nick’s work, and the risk has proved itself to be too great.”

The interviewer made a face. “There you have it folks. We’ll be right back with more after the break.”

Ari flopped back onto the couch. “Fuck yeah. Fuck. Yeah. We did it. Those jackasses really think Sebastian got loose while Nick was alone and killed him and ran off. And they're not going to torture anyone else because of it. Fuck yeah.”

Valen gave a few excited wiggles. “We did it! Haha!” He tried not to think about the fact that no live capture program meant Lex and Ari would have killed him when they first met.

He glanced over at Sebastian and noticed how very unhappy he looked. He didn’t seem angry anymore. Valen turned back around, hands on his knees, thinking. “Um, Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think… we could try letting Sebastian out again? He looks a lot calmer now, and he still has stab wounds. That can’t be comfortable. He’s just been sitting there with them the whole time.”

“Oh. Uhh, yeah sure I guess.” Even she had to admit Sebastian looked kind of pathetic. “Long as you can keep him under control like you did before.”

Valen nodded. “I’ll handle it. Leave it to me.”

Valen once again unlocked Sebastian and took him upstairs to the bathroom. As soon as they were alone, Sebastian started crying, letting the tears flow freely.

“Oh, it's okay,” Valen said, handing him a tissue. “You're all right.”

“I'm not all right,” he snapped. “I'm hurt and hungry and-” He'd been about to say scared, but caught himself just in time.

“Let me help you,” Valen cooed. “It'll be all right. We're going home at sunset.”

Sebastian burst into fresh tears. “I failed. I failed. Mother and Father will be furious with me. Priscus doesn't have a worthy heir, and now my father doesn't either. Everyone is going to blame me for the family’s predicament.”

Valen took Sebastian's hands, firm and cool. “You're under a lot of pressure. It's not fair of them to expect so much from you.”

Sebastian brought his hand up to his face and wiped his eye on his shredded sleeve. “But-but I'm purebred nobility. I'm better. I'm supposed to be better. Better than commoners, and especially better than humans.”

Valen smiled at him and squeezed his hands. “Listen to me, Sebastian. When everyone wants you to be something that you're not, it hurts and it's okay to be sad about it. And it can be hard to see through it to decide what you want, but you don't have to want the same things for yourself that your parents do. There are lots of people out there who will love you even if you show up empty-handed. There are people who will love you for showing up empty-handed.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Who? You?”

“There are more of us than you might think. We're just not very visible.” It was hard to tell Sebastian that when Valen had felt so, so alone as a direct result of trying to be more true to himself. But he knew it was true. It had been the thing to give him hope and courage.

Sebastian averted his eyes, sniffling.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up, and I'll put some bandages on you.”

Valen helped Sebastian wash the blood off himself, then started wrapping him up.

Sebastian kept his eyes averted as Valen wrapped the wounds he'd inflicted on Sebastian’s arms. “So…those humans really aren't your thralls?”

“No, they're not. I'd consider them friends, if they want to call themselves that.”

“Did they lie to keep us safe? Is that what they all meant about that guy on TV?”

“Yes. They saved both of us from a horrible fate.”

“Okay, but why me? They're not friends with me.”

“They didn't want to see anyone at all condemned to such a fate. They thought you could be saved. They're kind.”

“Well, that's stupid.”

Valen smiled at him faintly. “And yet it's why you're here.”

Sebastian looked deep in thought. Then: “What do you drink if they're your…friends.” He said it like he still thought it was a bit ridiculous.

“They've been letting me feed on them because they didn't want me to go hungry, same as I kept you from attacking them because I didn't want them to be hurt.”

“I know how friendship works. I'm not five years old.”

“Sorry, I'm-”

“You're not my mother. You don't have to dote on me.” He ripped his hands out of Valen’s.

“Do I have to be your mother to be kind to you?”

Sebastian's face almost broke. He could count on one hand the number of people who'd been selflessly kind to him, with no ulterior motive, who weren't his mother. “Well, it's stupid.”

“Come on,” Valen said gently. “There's no one here to impress. You can try being nice. I won't tell anyone.”

“It's weakness.”

“It might feel ridiculous at first, but in the long run it makes me feel a lot better. Maybe it'll make you feel better, too.”

Sebastian didn't make eye contact.

A few minutes later, the pair of vampires approached Lex and Ari in the living room. “Sebastian has something he'd like to ask you,” Valen announced.

Lex turned off the TV. Ari sat up straight.

“This is humiliating,” Sebastian mumbled.

“Go on,” Valen said.

Sebastian turned even redder, but he finally looked at Lex and Ari. “I am very hungry. May I please have some blood?”

Ari’s eyebrows shot up. Lex looked delighted. “Of course! You can have some of mine!”

“Uhh…are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ari said, even as Lex slid off the couch towards Sebastian. “Considering how much we dumped on the floor?”

“It’s just one time,” Lex said, waving her off. “I’ll be fine.”

Sebastian reached out to grab Lex’s hair, and Valen smacked his hand away. “Ah-ah-ah. That’s not how it’s done.”

“That’s how it’s done where I’m from.”

“Well, we aren’t where you’re from, are we?”

Sebastian lowered his hand, once again looking chastised.

Lex extended her arm out. “Go ahead and bite my wrist. It’s okay.”

That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Sebastian was supposed to bite her neck, as a sign of his dominance over her.

But as he lowered his head and tried to make himself gentler at Valen’s direction, he found the blood quenched his thirst all the same.

***

Sebastian was still behaving himself at sunset, so they didn’t shove him back in the coffin for the drive to the border.

The border. Valen could scarcely believe it. The border, the thing he’d been trying to get to non-stop for the past few months. The safety he’d only been able to dream of. It was just being handed to him.

The van’s tires rolled to a stop in the dirt at the expanse of trees that filled the border. Valen’s boots crunched over sticks, and he hauled his backpack out behind him. Sebastian had been bundled up in a hooded jacket to hide the bandages and wounds he seemed self-conscious of.

“Well, here you are,” Lex said.

“Go on, get outta here,” Ari said.

Sebastian started walking towards the border. Valen hesitated.

“One more hug for the road?” Lex suggested.

Valen nodded.

Lex came over and hugged him. After a moment, Ari came up and did as well.

“You can come back, you know,” Lex said softly. “I know it’s been… rough, but- You’re always welcome here.”

Valen patted her back.

Ari finally broke the hug. “Hah, I doubt he wants to see our sorry asses ever again. Go on, big guy.”

Valen adjusted his backpack, looking unsure.

“Hey!” Sebastian shouted in the distance. “Are we going or what?”

“I’ll call you to let you know I’ve arrived home safely,” Valen says. “And I’ll… think about it, Alexis. Thank you, both.”

With that, Valen turned and ran off, far faster than a human could ever hope to catch up. Lex and Ari turned and wordlessly continued to hug each other, letting themselves cry now that no one was watching.

***

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