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chiliiscereal · 3 years

Note

May I offer a prompt of how the turtles would be with a mom friendTM? you know the type I mean? like.... I think they might benefit from that kind of friend in the group lol (also I love your stories, your such a cool writer keep up the awesome work!)

Rottmnt headcanon: mom friend TM

And thanks so much!

Mom friends are severely underrated XD

——

-Okay these boys need a mom friend badly

-but that’s where you come in!

-as the mom friend you keep them safe in many ways

Donnie💜

-starting with this guy, he never really wanted a mom friend

-when April first brought you over he was cold

-didn’t even bother talking to you

-you were determined to befriend him, even though he left whenever you tried to talk to him

-you became comfortable with the turtles quickly and the others accepted your mom friend nature

-not Donnie though

-he didn’t hate you, sure, but you were too much

-you were too overbearing and too nervous for his safety!

-you’d make him wear a helmet when he used his jet pack

-you made him put on SUNSCREEN whenever he went outside

-you told him to be careful when rewiring a project even!

-it’s like you wanted to ruin his bad boy image

-he hated it and wanted you to stop being so smothering

-…

-…until he realized that attention and moral support comes with the smothering

-the moment he realizes that he’s all for it

-he’s no longer hiding his inventions from you so you won’t bug him, but he’s seeking you out for your advice and praise

“Hey so I made this and… I don’t know…”

“Wow you built that? It’s awesome!”

“Really? I mean, I know, I just wanted to show you that it was.”

-praise ain’t something this boy has

-have you SEEN how his brothers react to his ideas?

-he needs this

-with praise comes affection

-I’m talking homemade snacks and questions that his brothers never ask

-you’re there if he needs a cup of coffee or if he hasn’t eaten in a while or taken a nap

-“don, it’s been two days since you slept go to bed.”

-“*hissssss*”

-“I’ll make a cup of coffee for you after...?”

-“*hisses but less intense*”

-you may be good at making snacks and everything

-very good in facts

-but the questions are probably his favorite part

“Woah what’s that supposed to do?”

“Well it’s a device that’s meant to fix all the broken McDonald’s ice cream machines.”

“That’s amazing! What did you use to build it? How does it work?”

-you’re actually trying to learn about his work!

-you’re trying to learn about him!

-he loves it

-and he loves that you’re careful to

-it’s a nice change from his brothers

-you’re someone he can depend on

-doesn’t matter if it’s missions or just being a good friend

-and I mean it when I say depend

-you’re there when he needs help rewiring something or just to simply talk about his dumb dumb brothers

-honestly April isn’t even mad that Donnie stole one of her best friends

-she knows he needs this

-Donnie fully learned to trust you after the purple dragons mishap

-you told him they were untrustworthy but his heart was dead set on that satin jacket

-when he came back to the lair, late at night, with no satin jacket and a handful of his missing tech, he found you raising an eyebrow at him from where you had sat to wait for him

-he knew from then on to trust you and your opinions, even though his often got in the way

-you can often be found sitting on Donnies bed while he works, offering your company and comments

-Normally no one else is allowed in while he works but that’s just because they don’t have anything positive to provide

Raph❤️

-Raph IS the mom friend

-your mom friend energy and his mom friend energy just work together so well together

-I’m talking planning missions together, figuring new ways to trick his brothers into being responsible, cleaning the dishes, and even making snacks together

-“so the mission is tomorrow right?”

-“yep! Should we bring apples with peanut butter or pretzels with hummus?”

-“well Donnie doesn’t like peanut butter, but Mikey does, so both?”

-“awesome! And you’ve got the water covered?”

-“dude I even have caprisuns packed so we’re ready!”

-the others find it to be too much with the two of you but Raph really appreciates the help

-especially during the pizza puff episode

-oh that part nearly set you on fire with worry

-Raph had never seen you that worked up

-you had a fan for Leo, a bowl for Mikey, and a bag of fruit snacks for Donnie

-Raph has to activate his supreme mom friend energy to get you to stop hovering over them

-that meant literally dragging you away from them so they could figure things out on their own

-he’s seen you be a mom friend to them all the time

-but never once for him

-you two were like... co mom friends working together to stop the younger irresponsible three

-until Raph got separated in the sewer

-oh man you were torn with worry

-you nearly destoryed the place looking for him

-and finding him all savage like that... ack that was enough to practically shatter your heart in two

-once he stopped trying to barbecue villains and destroy his brothers you took him to the lair and helped him calm down

-you even turned on a movie for the two of you so he could relax

-it was nice to have your best friend and partner in stopping crime back

-Raph of course was embarrassed because it’s HIS job to help everyone, not the other way around

-after much assurance you had him convinced that you didn’t mind

-he was grateful to have you and your help

-he just wished you didn’t worry quite so much

Leo 💙:

-this boy is soaking it all up from the start

-someone to compliment him?

-someone to help him out?

-someone to admire his achievements?

-oh he’s all for it

-he’s showing off skateboard stunts, he’s doing flips, and he’s randomly pulling you to him and creating a portal

-usually you end up somewhere sketchy but sometimes it works out

-you always have to be ready though

-one minute you’re walking to the projector room and the next you’re in New Jersey with a sheepish looking red slider

-his only problem is now he has to be more careful with skateboard tricks

-he’s fine with a helmet but when it comes to you hovering next to him while he’s going down the skate ramp...

-eh he’s not so fond of that

-praise?

-sure

-home made gifts and cards?

-always appreciated

-but you constantly trying to protect him from things he knew how to do?

-no

-just no

-now he only feels like he can skate if you’re not there or if he goes to a skate park without telling you

-you figure out quickly and still worry that he’ll mess up a flip

-doesn’t matter if you’re watching or not

-you’re the mom friend

-your job is to worry

-you promised that you’d stop worrying about him if he can back

-you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home!

-he agreed and you did your best to keep your promise

-...

-until he actually messed up a flip

-you don’t know WHAT he landed on but it must have been sharp because there was a LOT of blood

-maybe you thought there was a lot because you were so worried but still

-you hadn’t even been in the room but you heard his shout (and crash) and you came running

-oh he was lucky you carried gauze and everything in your bag because other wise they’d have to go buy some

-you chewed him out while patching him up, much to his displeasure

-you’re both sweet and sour about it

-“I’m fine! Look, nothing’s broken!”

-“I TOLD you that you could get hurt! I TOLD you it wasn’t safe! Why did you not listen- I’m sorry does that hurt? I’m sorry!”

-“yeah it does hurt-.”

-“than you should have listened to me!!”

-for a while he’s bitter that you were just waiting for him to mess up

-clearly you thought he was just a big clutz to you

-but after a while of him avoiding you and pouting you brought it up again

-“I’m not just waiting for you to fail you know. I just want you to be okay.”

-“that’s not what it feels like! You clearly don’t trust me!”

-“life happens, Leo! Doesn’t matter how skilled you are! You’re an amazing skater but sometimes mistakes are made!”

-ha that changed his tune quickly

-“you think I’m an amazing and skilled skater?

-you just rolled your eyes and left, not saying anything about his comment

-didn’t matter

-this boy is all smiles for the rest of the day

Mikey🧡:

-he was on board from the very start

-he’s got cuddles, piggy back rides, and his own art fan/critic

-lots of baking and cooking together

-maybe even drawing if he’s lucky

-only problem?

-you don’t trust him to go out on his own

-even if it’s just to grab a video game from the store or pick up pizza

-“I’m just going down the block!”

-“what if someone sees you?”

-“I’ll be careful!”

-“just let me go with you.”

-“no! I can do this on my own!”

-you’re always offering to give him a ride or tag along just because you don’t want anything to happen to him

-that means, of course, sneaking out

-not for a long time, just enough to get some air

-but that also means you’re staying up late waiting for him to come back

-he’s your buddy!

-you can’t let anything happen to him!

-he didn’t know about it until he found you cashed out on the couch with the lamp still on

-normally you gave him an excuse about why you were still up, such as a late night snack or a movie

-but your phone and the tv were both off

-he decided to think nothing of it until he noticed that you were grumpier in the mornings

-he didn’t want his actions to affect you so he started coming back earlier

-even texting you and telling you he was fine

-you two talked and set up a deal

-he could go out by himself and you wouldn’t stay up late waiting for him as long as you had his location on your phone

-it was easier for both you from then on

#rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rottmnt incorrect quotes #rottmnt movie #nickelodeon #tmnt fanfiction #rise of tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons

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onebizarrekai · 3 years

Text

v3′s art is comically terrible for a professionally distributed game in a series: a compilation

in this not-essay I will list all of the mistakes and problems I have spotted in v3′s art. don’t worry, it’s entirely for fun and I’m doing this on a whim, so please feel free to not take this seriously but also it’s hilarious and embarrassing how ridiculous this is like what happened did they speedrun the whole production or what

see, there are some things you can take as meta like “they made it bad on purpose to allude to the downfall of tv shows that have been on air for much too long” but I have a very strong feeling this is not the case due to the nature of some of these errors

disclaimer, the more I study this art, the more I fear that the artists were underpaid and underslept, so if this is in fact the case, I am so sorry to all of them but also I’m going to make fun of the art anyway

anyway let’s get started!

if you study this image for longer than 5 seconds, you will see that kaede is the only one fully shaded and keebo is literally just his normal sprite pasted into the image. every other character is just an ordinary ref, hence most of them facing the exact same direction with neutral expressions on their faces. it looks like a bad edit, and is probably one of the worst pieces of art in the game. it kind of gets better from here on, but my roasting will not.

with that out of the way, here’s the problem that officially bothers me the most and clarifies my viewpoint of “this is not meta and an actual lack of company communication”

this freaking cg, which seems normal at a glance, but some wiseass was like “oh, kaede is a girl, so obviously she’s going to be shorter than the Male Protagonist™” ah, that’s funny. because if you look at the character bios, kaede is, in fact, one inch taller than shuichi and not like 6 inches shorter as she is shown here.

also shuichi’s shoulder is disproportionate and horrendous and he looks vaguely like a jojo character, but I wasn’t even thinking about that until right now.

thanks guys, 50% of the fandom who has never bothered to check these bios thinks that kaede is like 5′3 (did the developers really put so little thought into her to the point where drawing her correctly in the game didn’t even matter??)

also I would like to point out that, even though this isn’t related to the art itself, yes, a character kaede’s size being only 117 lbs is unfeasible, but this applies to literally every character in danganronpa ever and it’s not new news that it’s unrealistic

update: someone in the tags informed me that in versions of the game that use centimeters, like the japanese version, kaede is actually shorter than shuichi, which just adds another thing to the list of weird decisions the localization team made for no reason. that said, after confirming this, kaede is 167 cm in the original, while shuichi is 171 cm, which are approximately 5′6 and 5′7 respectively, but one inch is still nowhere near as drastic as it is depicted above. (in spite of this, I would rather depict kaede as slightly taller, so I’m probably going to keep doing that.)

the journey continues!

bro if you want kaede to have shoulder length hair then stick to it to begin with

you can pretend this is at an angle all you want but they definitely committed the shorter kaede sin a second time

wait a goddamn second.

DO YOU SEE THIS

no………… it wasn’t kaede who shrank. it was shuichi who got taller

speaking of which, can we talk about how shady the perspective is in this elevator pic? look at shuichi and kokichi in comparison to kaede. kokichi, who is canonically 7 inches (edit: or 5, if you’re loyal to the original) shorter than kaede, looks taller than kaede. he’s growing too. what steroids are these gays taking

running into the room, electric boogaloo: I don’t think tsumugi is supposed to be the same height as kokichi

gonta… gonta you’re lookin a bit like a jojo character there

I love how kaito’s head looks kind of like it was pasted onto his body. why is he the same size as shuichi? shouldn’t he be high school bully size or something? his torso is teensy

ah yes, white angie.

I love this cg but why is shuichi’s right hand so much bigger than his left hand

I also love how this cg looks like they literally took pictures of trees and pasted them into the background, especially on the left. the shadows are so weird, especially closer to the ceiling, it’s difficult for me to believe they didn’t do exactly that.

return of Enlarged shuichi

puberty update: kokichi is now taller than shuichi in spite of shuichi never missing leg day. what crimes will he commit

I have to mention it, guys. this has to be one of the worst danganronpa cgs. kokichi’s facial proportions look atrocious. look at the way his face sticks out like his jaw is in the wrong place. his scarf is a pasted texture. that’s it. this moment was so iconic but the cg just looks so… so… off. like something is terribly wrong, but you can’t put your finger on it.

you know what? let’s get into that ‘pasted texture’ thing.

let’s imagine you’re an artist working on a professional game. you’re assigned to draw cgs of kokichi ouma, who has a checkered scarf from hell. sure, it will be terrible to draw, but you only have to draw it once at a time! plus, perspective is pretty important, right? can you be bothered? nah, actually. let’s just copy paste a checkered pattern into the cg, because I’m sure nobody will notice. it’ll blend right in with the other cgs that someone actually put effort into drawing his scarf in, right?

no. the answer is no and I very much noticed. this genuinely looks terrible and I would understand taking a shortcut like that in fanart or even an indie game but this is a full price pc and console distributed game

(an addition: look at kokichi’s TINY HANDS in that last one)

meanwhile, they straight up forgot to color in kokichi’s scarf in this cg.

dude. I forgot about whatever the hell this cg was. anyway look at keebo please just look at him

lovin kaito’s baby arms

real talk, maybe you could argue that he’s missing muscle because he’s deathly sick, but most of his cgs don’t line up with this, and his arms just look disproportionate to his torso size (granted this is a consistent problem across all danganronpa games and a lot of characters have this weird problem, like hajime, but also kaito is bigger than hajime so I kind of have higher expectations of him) maybe it’s his stupid goatee and the way he reminds me of yasuhiro?? it creates this illusion that he’s older than he is and so I keep expecting him to look more like an adult

oh, also rantaro is missing some of his accessories in that video he made–you know the one–but I don’t wanna go back and screenshot it

also you may have noticed that I’m skipping all of the monokub cgs because I literally do not care about them and I’m not even bothering to check and see if they have artistic mistakes in them

JIMMY NEUTRON???

hey um uh kaito you seem to be missing your neck

hey guys do you like my pregame fanart

so, that done, the sprites are also pretty terrible at times. they’re not as interesting to go through, however, and downloading the full sprite sets for every character and studying every single one of them will drive me insane, so I’ll just sum some of the ones I noticed up. I made things for kaede and shuichi before deciding I wasn’t going to get into it, so here are these.

that said, other mistakes include kokichi missing his purple highlights in all of the sprites encompassing a specific pose, stray pixels all over the place on everyone, and everyone also has heavily inconsistent shading, but literally all I think about is how pregame shuichi is unshaded and two of kaede’s pregame sprites have glaring outfit change mistakes in them

anyway, thank you for taking the time to read my ridiculous ramble. in all seriousness, there’s this looming presence of some lack of communication in the development team, like with all the art and design inconsistencies, pieces and sprites that look rushed, stray pixels, and missing basic proportional stuff. these are the kinds of things that you supposedly have to pretty much have in the bag in order to get jobs in professional businesses, so it’s really weird to me that this game suffers from so many of these problems. it’s like they tried to make the art so much more crisp than the other games, but it fell on its face as they realized it was going to take longer to draw everything and they started to rush. it’s weird, because the coloring itself looks normal–it’s just sloppily drawn, and the proportions are a mess once put into the context of perspective. many of the cgs look like they were drawn by different people, and I’m still not over the fact that half of kokichi’s cgs have his scarf pasted in as a texture.

the moral of the story is that if you’re selling a game at full price that also happens to be in a series that has had 3 very good games in it already the stakes should probably be higher than this. v3 has been out for more than 3 years and it’s still $40 (did it cost more than that before? I sure hope not), and the overarching quality of the game is just not as high as the other games. I’m not saying that the other games don’t have any problems with their art at all, they’re just not as glaringly obvious and every artistic choice in those games feels intentional.

regardless, I had a blast roasting the art at 2am, so maybe you got a kick out of all this chaos.

#god I keep telling myself I'm gonna stop rambling about v3 #v3 spoilers #drv3 spoilers #ndrv3 #random stuff #but making this… it sounded so fun #danganronpa

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( VELVETEEN RABBIT. )

What do you get when you mix Thumper and Bambi? Answer: Jeon Jungkook.

pairing. french lop bunny!jjk x ragdoll cat f!reader.

genre + rating. hybrid!au set in college. super fluffy, a little angsty, with a dash of smut to balance it all out. explicit towards the end because i just can’t help myself. oops.

tags / warnings. honestly, this jungkook should just come with his own warning. but more realistically, mentions of kook using a scrunchie, kook being cute, kook railing his date after using the world’s worst puns... the usual.

wc. 4.4k

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif as always become, c’mon. i’m me. she’s her.

author note. this was written as part of @thebtswritersclub‘s a hybrid fest and is gloriously late (i’m so sorry @ditttiii). i’ve never written anything hybrid-related before so hopefully you enjoy. feedback goes a long way! xoxo

He orders the same thing every time he’s in. Iced Americano, no room for cream, and a single almond croissant. (Every once in a while, he switches it up for matcha but that’s exceedingly rare.) He always pays with a tap of his wrist - a sleek black AppleWatch with rubber band - and flashes his trademark slightly too-big smile. All the girls swoon. So do the guys. Everyone except for you.

He’s unnervingly handsome, with long dark ears that sometimes hang in front of his eyes. You’ve caught him with them pulled back Lola Bunny-style, knotted with a loose silk scrunchie that looks nearly as soft as his fur. His hair’s usually unkempt, tossed into a little sprout of a bun, overly long fringe falling all over his big round eyes. He wears butterfly clips sometimes, though that’s usually on days where he isn’t freshly sweaty and carrying his gym bag. They appear in his hair when it’s damp from a shower, the smell of papaya and honey clinging to every inch of him. You know, because you have a great nose - one that’s sensitive to every smell under the sun but especially his. (You try not to think about it much.)

It’s a Wednesday morning when you notice the change. It doesn’t register at first, acknowledgement coming in a curious sniff at the air. Weird.

“Thanks,” he says like clockwork, a well-oiled polite machine, deceptively slender hands receiving the exceedingly hot cup without a care in the world. He’s got his usual bag over his shoulder - overly big, black, almost tactical - and a pair of comfortable looking pants on that seem more like they belong on your beloved grandmother. Somehow, he rocks it (but he always does). “Have a nice day.”

Because of course he says that. Of course he steals the words right out of your mouth, turns them back on you as easy as he makes your heart rattle around in your chest like it’s a Friday night bingo ball.

He moves toward the bar - he only ever grabs three napkins, tucks them into the slot on the left side of his bag - but pauses halfway there. Rooted to the same spot as always, sleek ears following the imposing line of his shoulders.

One, two—

The thumping starts, so quiet it’s almost negligible. But you catch it, because you always do and because you’re the reason for it.

He turns then, levels you with a look from the corner of those pretty, pretty eyes and you can’t help but laugh, openly, unashamedly, with the back of your hand plastered to your mouth. A true ojou-sama.

His mouth quirks - does that funny thing where he sucks in his cheek then rolls it back out with his tongue - and you think he might finally say something. Call you out for writing his name wrong for the past five weeks, finding more and more creative ways to do so every time. Even occasionally using nicknames - silly things you’d come up with while on the walk home, or during lunch, or in bed.

“Good one,” he states, laugh lines threading over his face, prominent around his eyes. His nose wiggles with the sound - another of his traits that comes out to play often. Your favourite of them all, if you’re being honest.

“Anytime.”

You don’t realise it’s him until it’s too late, until you’re practically running into him, bouncing off the broad expanse of his back with a startled squeak. Lucky for you, you’re quick on your feet, catching yourself before your skull can become too well-acquainted with the red brick wall to your right.

“You okay?” Though he asks, you have a sneaking suspicion he knows you’re not and an even stronger suspicion that he’d been waiting for you, hovering past the entrance of the cafe with his big university hoodie on.

“Barely,” you manage around a laugh, straightening the backpack slung over your shoulders, packed to the brim with goodies you got to bring home at the end of the night and two of your textbooks.

“Should watch where you’re going.”

This is the most conversation you’ve had - ever. But it’s fun, easy, organic and natural. You wonder why that is.

“You should watch where you’re standing, actually.”

He’s so much bigger than you, imposingly tall (especially being part of the Leporidae family) and wide in the chest. Not bulky by any means, but big. Strong. Threaded with a strength you don’t normally see in hybrids of his kind. It probably has to do with how often you see him covered in sweat and panting, basketball hooked under his arm, soccer cleats tied to his bag.

When he speaks again, it’s full of mirth, squeezing his round eyes near shut. “Got a problem with me standing here?”

You nod, solemn as ever (which is really never, but that’s besides the point). “It’s dangerous to block entryways, didn’t you know?” You’re gesturing to the awning, the dark interior just past the window of the shop. “You’re loitering, Jungkook.”

“So you do know my name.” You can tell he’s not surprised - that he’s hamming it up for dramatics, softly pink lips rounded in a little ‘O’. He’s cute like this, you think. Playful in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I do?”

There’s that cheek thing again. It’s even more attractive up close, the shape of his jaw thrown into prominent relief when he sucks in a breath.

“You just said it.”

You nod, thoughtful, finger tapping upon your chin. “I guess I did.”

“Say it again,” he states, expression inscrutable, eyes bright. They’re so glossy even under the dimmed streetlights, impossibly big and undeniable. So easy to get lost in - if your attention weren’t caught by something else.

“What is that?”

You’d noticed it earlier in the day, caught the scent in passing sometime during the early hours. You’d been unable to place it then, too distracted by freshly ground coffee, a girl’s three too many spritzes of Daisy by Marc Jacobs, and baking banana loaves.

It’s heady, masculine. A strong musk that sinks into your nose and makes it twitch, ears rotating as if that’ll help pin the smell down.

“What’s what?” You hadn’t realised how close you’d become, your face five seconds from planting directly into his chest. (It’d probably be nice - you know how soft your school’s merchandise is.) “Are you okay?” He asks because you’re now, actually, planting your face right against the worn navy cotton. It’s terribly nice, silk upon your cheek.

You answer more to his clothes than to him, nosing into the fabric. “You smell different.”

You feel more than hear his laughter, the sound barreling past his teeth seconds later. The vibrations running along his spine jostle you from your position face first upon him but you don’t mind. It doesn’t send you far, dark eyes peering up into the face of the bunny hybrid. True to his kind, his nose is twitching, puffs of laughter expanding his cheeks when he meets your stare.

“No I don’t.”

“You do.” Tone firm, a finger lands upon the neatly embroidered N on his hoodie. The white stitching stands in stark contrast to your baby blue nails. “You smell… off.”

Whether Jungkook’s offended or not, you can’t tell. He’s got that same strange expression on his face - the one from this morning when he’d received his coffee. It’s made up of too many moving parts: the flutter of his lashes, the coil of his jaw, the minute tick of the corner of his mouth. You can’t read him for shit, somehow more confused now than in your 300-level art history class. (You’d taken it as one of your optional electives assuming it’d be an easy A. You were wrong.)

“Sorry you think so,” he hums, looking down at you. You’ve seemed to fully forget the meaning of personal space, edged up beside him as if you’re best friends and not just two ships passing in the night.

“It’s not bad.” Really, it isn’t. It’s strong and sensual, vegetal in a way, calming in another. But it isn’t unwelcome.

In fact, you think you might like this scent a little more - less sweet than what normally clings to his skin, natural honeycomb rather than processed sugar. It zings across your teeth, pieces broken up and scattered behind your molars. You can practically taste it. Him.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

You share a look - one that says more than all the words you’ve ever spoken, that threads together all the silly laughter, narrowed stares, (written) flirtations. It settles between the two of you, filling the spaces with something akin to cotton, light and airy and soft.

The desire to speak lingers, hidden just beyond the cotton candy dusting. Should you? Shouldn’t you? You still have no idea what he’s doing here, a street urchin making his rounds on the campus village.

He beats you to it. “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

You don’t think you could want anything more. “Sure.”

Silence falls again but it’s comfortable, a caress rather than a crutch. The grounds are surprisingly quiet - wayward students on their way to the library or heading home from lectures. There are no picnic blankets spread across the grass, no gaggles of girls dressed in school colours. It feels like the first day of fall, change sitting heavy in the air.

“So—” You start.

He finishes, “do you wanna go on a date with me?”

That’s surprising. (Or is it? You’re not really sure.) You nearly trip over your own two feet in your haste to look at him, entire body swivelling on the spot because apparently you can’t just turn your head like a normal person. Something something all or nothing.

“What?”

“Do. You. Want. To—” He’s being insufferable for the hell of it. You can see it in his eyes, glossy things shining down at you like he’s got the entire fucking nightsky hung in them.

“Not if you keep that up,” you retort, though you both know you’re lying. You’ve been waiting - wishing, wanting - for this moment since the day you laid eyes on him. Since Yuri had elbowed you so hard in the ribs you’d thought you’d be bruised for days, since Jae had rambled on and on for his entire shift about the cute new bunny who’d come in that morning. Since that very first wrongly spelt name on his plastic cup and every visit since.

“Is that a challenge?”

“You won’t get it in.”

He scoffs, loud and drawn out, cheek rounding with disbelief at your disbelief. How can you possibly doubt him - school basketball star and all-around athletic freak of nature?

“What do I get if I do?” The ball rests in his palm, poised to be shot through the hoop, sunk without making contact with the rim. He’s confident - he’s done it a million times.

“A pat on the back?” As much as you tease him - loop mockery around nearly every syllable you speak, you’re endlessly supportive, already carrying the fruits of his labour under your arms. A Pikachu shoved haphazardly into the purse slung across your body, a Snorlax tucked under your arm at an awkward angle that crushes his poor head, a Sylveon tucked into the side pocket of his joggers. (The arcade was really into Pokemon, apparently.) “Me saying thank you?”

“Not good enough.” He leans in close - those big galaxy eyes practically swallowing you whole - and taps a single finger upon your nose. It makes your nostrils flare, an itch blooming under his touch. “Gotta sweeten the deal.”

You must look hilarious because Jungkook’s biting back a smile, smirking down at you. Then, all at once, without breaking eye contact, he’s extending his arm, flicking his wrist, and— swish!

In goes the ball, leaving him with a perfect score.

“I want you to stay the night.”

You think he’s joking. He must be joking. This is your third date.

But he’s staring at you like he’s completely serious, gaze expectant, lips pursed around something that reads like a smile but has your heart doing a strange little one-two step in your chest. It soars for a moment, high above the clouds like the string orchestra of a choral work - Beethoven’s Ninth in D minor.

“Are you propositioning me, Jeon Jungkook?” It’s the same reaction he always has when you say his name: a twitch of his ear, the corner of his bottom lip quirking and then resetting, eyes so sparkly it’s almost absurd.

“No. I’m just telling you what I want.”

“Huh.” You should say no. Guys like him - with charm that oozes out of every pore, whose offhanded smiles break more hearts than you ever have - are almost always bad news. Too sweet, too funny, simply too much for your feeble heart to take.

“Is that a yes?” He’s got you in his clutches - a viper rather than a hare, with a smile so dangerous you’re paralysed by just the sight of it. (Who needs venom?)

Your words catch in your throat, stick to one another like the deformed gummies at the bottom of the movie theatre bag. What comes out isn’t what you expect. “Okay.”

Damn you. Damn him. Damn how good he smells and the big dumb grin that spreads over his lips, sunshine in human form, undeniable and warm and cute enough to start a war over. (That’s probably what’s happening - a vicious battle between your head and your heart.)

Damn his stupid thumping foot that you can make out over the sound of the video games, the boisterous din. It’s so cute you can’t help yourself from smiling, mouth pulling and pursing around the delight that begs to be freed.

“Cool,” he says, and you almost think that’s not very cool. He’s so nonchalant, cavalier about it as if it means nothing. You’d be bothered if you felt like you didn’t know him so well - hadn’t learnt his idiosyncrasies over the last two months.

How he looks when he laughs really hard, his slightly too-big front teeth taking up all the real estate in his mouth. How he sounds when he’s tired (groggy, with a lisp that rarely sees the light of day otherwise) or when he’s told he’s wrong (pouty, with his bottom lip jutted out so cutely you want to scream). How he runs every morning, hits the gym every night, and eats double your protein because fitness, bro! How his cheat meal of choice is soy garlic fried chicken from the place off-campus and he hates tangy, tart desserts (your lemonade lip gloss not included, he insists). How he can’t sleep if he’s too hot - which he often is - and he spends way too long combing through his ears with a specialty brush he doesn’t let anyone touch. How he’s secretly raindrops and gummy bears and hand holding in the car, so much more than his high school superlative of most likely to grace the cover of GQ.

You wonder, because you know those things, does that make you special? Does it make you immune to the heartbreak that you swear you imagine whenever your mood drops (not often, but often enough)?

You hope so.

“Let’s go shoot guns?” He’s tearing you from your reverie, planting an open-mouthed kiss to your temple. It’s sloppy and not very refined, much less suave than what you’d expect from your school’s soccer captain (and basketball small forward and swim team stand-in). You suppose that’s why you like him so much - because he’s always surprising you, keeping you on your toes.

“Let’s.” You agree, letting your date drag you toward the Time Crisis machine. It’s blissfully unoccupied, allowing the two of you to slide into place. He takes the blue gun, you the red.

He squeezes your hip when you take up position, one eye squeezed shut as you look down the barrel of the plastic weapon. “Better not let me die.”

“Better not get shot,” you return.

He doesn’t listen - failing halfway through the helicopter scene, his shot missing and resulting in some sad miserable death in the form of Continue? blinking across the screen. Neither of you mind that much though. He occupies himself on his phone, free hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. You play better when he’s not shouting terrible call-outs, nearly crashing into you because he gets so into it.

(How he’s never got a concussion on the basketball/soccer/etc. field before, you’re not sure.)

By the time you’re done - a good five minutes later, you think - Jungkook’s growing restless, tugging at your belt loops enough that you stumble with every shot, nearly knocking yourself out when you have to steady yourself on the centre console.

“Kook!” Your glare is barely that, too affectionate to dissuade him from his childish antics.

He pulls you forward, traps you between his thick thighs, tattooed hands settling comfortably on your hips. “Let’s go home.”

“Someone’s in a hurry.”

Of course, he doesn’t deny that.

It’s not the first time you’ve been over. Not even your second or third. You’ve met up with him before his games, thrown his jersey overtop and helped him wrap his fingers before hitting the court. You’d even had to grab his cleats for him once, running across campus as he did drills in his socks as punishment.

This time feels different. You know why but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. It lodges somewhere in your throat, makes it hard to breathe when you kick off your shoes and tuck them neatly beside Jungkook’s.

“Are you hungry?” He’s already in the small kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at you as you linger in the adjoining hallway, bag halfway over your head.

“I’m good.” You are, really. You’d eaten one donut too many at the arcade, indulged in a little too much disgusting nacho cheese goodness. You don’t really understand how your date’s still hungry, a cucumber crunching between his teeth when he turns back to you.

Standing there, vegetable devoured in quick, decisive bites, he looks every inch the French lop bunny he is.

You reach him in the same instant he finishes his midnight snack. Arms fold around you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, head dropping to rest comfortably upon yours. Like this, his ears tickle your cheek - velveteen fur lost to the silk of your hair. “Are you tired?”

Another no comes - spoken into the fuzzy fabric of his sweater - and he hums above you, whole frame rattling with the noise.

“No bed then?”

At least he’s transparent, you think.

“One track mind much?” You’re only teasing. A part of you looks forward to… whatever it is that sits over the horizon, lost past the creaky bedroom door and somewhere beneath his surprisingly soft sheets. (You’d asked about them once - he’d told you his mother liked to send him housewares to remind him of home. He was a real mama’s boy that way.)

The monster only laughs, snuggles into your hair like it’s home. “Can you blame me?”

You can’t do much of anything when he’s like this - so utterly adorable and enticing and good for your heart that it feels as if you’ve taken a straight dose of morphine.

“Let’s go to bed, Wookie.” Another nickname, recently coined after you’d spent an evening watching Star Wars for the first time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You whack him on the way to his bedroom, smack a hand over the arm curled around your shoulders. He pretends like it hurts, howls in a way he he thinks resembles a wounded animal but really just sounds stupid. “Not a ma’am.”

“Sir?” He asks, just to make you laugh.

“If you don’t shut up—”

He pushes you through the door of his bedroom while giggling to himself, sound puffing out of his cheeks. “Don’t be mad, kitten.” The two of you drop to the bed, a tangle of limbs and silken fur and squeaking laughter. “You’re so purr-ty when you’re annoyed.”

He’s doing it again. Dropping those stupid cat puns that make your nose wrinkle, ink-tipped ears folding back against your head.

“I think I’m hiss-terical, don’t you?”

Face adamantly buried into his sheets, you don’t give him the time of day. You don’t even care that your mascara is probably rubbing off against the charcoal fabric, lipstick tint doing potentially irreversible damage. He knows how unfunny you find these jokes, how you’ve heard them your whole life and roll your eyes so hard your optic nerve might sever every time you face another.

What’s the point of sharing your pet peeves with him when all he does is lean into them? Use them against you like it’s the cool thing to do. Make you wonder what you’d seen in him when he was just another customer, another boy in Seoul National indigo and bedhead so dishevelled it begged to be managed.

(You’re not sure why you’re so irritated suddenly, caught in the clutches of a moodswing as you curl into your side and ignore his bad jokes.)

Stupid Jeon Jungkook. Annoying, silly, too-cool-for-his-own-good Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook who makes you second guess your choices, leaves you breathless and confused with just one dumb look. Who has convinced you into his bed and teases you mercilessly, snickering to himself as his foot bounces against the floorboards because he finds himself that funny.

“Baby?” The pet name comes, presses itself past your curtain of hair and invades your thoughts.

You say nothing, adamantly faced away.

He doesn’t like that, sneaking his hands around you and cradling you into his chest as if that’ll lighten the mood. (It does, a little bit, but you don’t tell him that.) “Don’t ignore me,” he mumbles, warmth breath tickling your ears, fingers dancing over the rungs of your ribs as if they’re ivory and not bone, playing a tune only he can hear.

“Stop with the shitty jokes,” you retort. You’re being difficult - can feel the vinegar turning your blood even as he tries to will it all away.

You feel the intake, the rise and fall of his broad chest. You can only imagine how hard he’s biting his tongue, careful to keep his next errant pun at bay. People don’t tell him no - only you. Maybe that’s why you do it, to remind him you’re not just like everyone else.

“Sorry.”

You don’t tell him to show you how sorry— but he does anyway.

You’re astounded by him, utterly entranced by the way he moves. How power runs the length of his frame, manoeuvres each of his limbs and turns your own to jelly.

He’s got you face down, ass up, hands cradling your hips like they’re his home and he can’t bear to let go. Every upward stroke feels like heaven - feels like a million lifetimes of pleasure you can barely wrap your thoughts around. He’s impossibly big, thick and long. The first thought you’d had when he’d stripped his black Calvin Kleins was pretty.

You realise now there’s nothing pretty about him. He’s filthy - the devil come to collect as he fucks you across his bed, nearly loses you to the pillows at the head with each snap of his hips. (What they said about rabbits was true, you think.)

“B-Bunny,” you sob, scratch over cotton that’s worn soft and smells exactly like your favourite sweater of his. The linens are defenseless, tangled up and wrinkled with each flex of your fingers, bunched up within your palms every time he buries himself like he’s looking for the answer to life, thinks he might find it within the fluttering walls of your pussy.

“Not my name.” When he sounds like this, he’s more predator than prey, a thousand volts of electricity shooting up your spine. He’s demanding and unrelenting. It makes your head spin.

“Wook—”

“Not.” Bunny teeth are just as painful as a feline’s, doing their job as they dig into the flushed skin over your back, marking his territory with two prominent indents right between your neck and shoulder. “A.” He ruts into you as if he’s got something to prove, snaps his hips to a beat you can’t keep up with. “Wookie.” Grips you so tight you might snap, red blooming beneath his hands.

You sob under him, drool against the pillows because you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut. (You feel like Jungkook post-win, spewing nonsense as he prattles on about game winning plays with his teammates.)

“K-Kookie.” It’s what he wants to hear - hits him right in the chest, a bull’s eye to the thing that beats wildly and in tandem with your own.

His rhythm stutters. The bed is shaking and not because he’s practically breaking the weak wooden frame. No, his foot’s thumping, bouncing across the sheets even as he tries to regulate the roll of his hips, return it to the assured, teeth-numbingly good tempo it’d been at.

It doesn’t work. You love it anyway. Like it more, because it means he’s just as affected by you as you are him. Your heart sings, leaps out of your chest on hummingbird wings, and dances around your head. You’re a goddamn cartoon - Pepé Le Pew in ragdoll form - animated pink shapes circling like a crown.

You don’t care. You can’t. Not when he plasters himself to your back and asks you to say it again, begs you to tell him how good he is, tells you how he wants to make you his.

Who cares if it’s three dates in, if your meeting was cliched and silly and he’s the campus heartthrob?

You don’t - because he’s yours and when he flips you onto your back and you curl your fingers into his hair, it’s your name he stutters out. It’s you who has him coming apart beneath your hands, the feel of his ears like velvet, the little whines he huffs growing louder each time you tug at the base. It’s you who knows what he sounds like as he falls to pieces, throws himself against you as if gravity demands it. It’s you who holds him to sleep, whose skin acts as a canvas for the doodles he traces as he drifts off.

It’s you and it’s him and that’s enough.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon! You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike. The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment. Why don't you take a look around the shops? I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in." Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer. "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening. I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not. Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond: Diluc! You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision. It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents. Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning. That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now. Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured. A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share? Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance. A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink. He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you. "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, sure? I don't believe I know you." You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking. 'Dandelion wine.' You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip. You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance. The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming. "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed. It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya. Do you come to Angel Share often? I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information. Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary." Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil. Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really. I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts. But I sense you're not native to Liyue." You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face. "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise. May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter. "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip. After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts. "Mm, yes. You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling. There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey. Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back? It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously. I am a knight, after all. They don't just let anyone get the job." Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down. His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks. "Business, I guess. But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh? If he has a branch here, I might know him. Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax. He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this. There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants. "A toy seller? Fascinating." He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters. We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked. "What can I say? I have a talent for this sort of thing." But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone. Something contemplative, darker, was lurking. Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!" A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled. "I couldn't find you at the shops. I spotted a floral store nearby. Shall we check it out?" Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him. He's a knight! Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you. You told this guy his name?! A knight?! You--You! No. This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with. "I see. Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves. He wasn't a stranger to the situation. He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him. "Reed's told me all about you. I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax." The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth. He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again. "Aha, Reed, we should get going. I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company? What was the name again? Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls." His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?" The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?" Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression. "This will be quite lively indeed." He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on. "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself. As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself. Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain? "Ajax? What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "Don't talk to him ever again." He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch. He never looked so--what was it? Angry? Fearful? Grim? Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?" This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you. "You're scaring me by refusing to talk." You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin. "Just...stay away from him. He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company? "Um, okay..." He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me. I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise." But for once, you were going to break it. You knew this as you met his relieved gaze. Something isn't right. You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you. You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior. Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded. "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping. Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do. I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead. "I'll be back later."

"See ya." You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. A hand rubbed your queasy stomach. Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share. He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go. So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier. It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now. In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time. You nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern. "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him. "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well." A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath. This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table. "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning. What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter. "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh? I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass. "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'" Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?" Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other. You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare. It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food. It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head. "It seems to me you already know. You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled. The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false. Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward. "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours. The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again. "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it? You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui. I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark. Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal." Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya. You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips. "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach. A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself. "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour. He didn't even hesitate to answer you. "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears. "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago. But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?" He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips. He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold. "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop. It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue. That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table. "Diluc, I'm gonna need another. Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down. "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?" The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression. "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task. Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora. It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue. "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured. "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this. Childe grit his teeth. "Twenty more. A total of fifty are gone now." Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone. "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts? The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal. Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank. "The vigilante in Liyue? I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances. The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style. They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned. He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger. They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please. "There's no connection. The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party. There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though. My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine. "Very well. As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa." This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you. As expected, the lights were out. Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint. You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth. "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left. Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight. He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed." His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around. Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames. His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling. The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least. His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway. "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice. "It's late. Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up. He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed. "Stay away from--"

"Get out." The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears. "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off. "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you. "You--" A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes. They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk. Your face was red and puffy. You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you? "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head. "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave. Get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir. If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch. Some 'knight.'" The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen. As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off. Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough. Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again. Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest. You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip. Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill. By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you. And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple. Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?" The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster. "You're not supposed to exist here--" These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland. What was it doing here? They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again. It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet. Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories. They're a lot bigger in person. If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation. That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson. "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."

"URGH!" The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze. "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady! Stand back! We'll handle this!" Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith. Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears? You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!" The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed. It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!" Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes. "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on. Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl. He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second. It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'" There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point. There are more. Tens of them, all electro! From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith. There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked. Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.

This wasn't some small random incident. This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god. This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right? He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!" The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them. "Useless!" The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did. Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction. It died almost instantly. The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti. Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!" One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation. As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti." The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold. How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest. "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing. I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue. You'll have a safe passage. Go now." He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin. "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you. A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains. Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!" Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw. The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil. The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air. It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight. "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard. The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved. The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you. "YOU'RE DEAD!" The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body. There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast. Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath. So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk. This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner? The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow. The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

#wesimpforxiao #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia #inception

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Violet Evergarden Movie Summary

The initial plan was to make this a short bullet-point thing, but I felt like there was too much to clarify and I had no choice but use novel references to explain certain parts, so I decided to just write a normal summary. Many thanks before-hand to my friend Yuuki, who gave me all this info.

Apologies for taking relatively long with this thing. Not even I expected that I would end up writing this much. Buckle up for the ride, ‘cause it won’t be fun.

Nope, not kidding. It really won’t.

First thing I need to make clear is: this movie is one and a half hour long and divided into three parts and two different timelines: the times when Violet existed and the times after she dies. Already in the beginning of the movie, Violet is dead.

Yes, you read this right. She’s dead.

Now, I don’t mean that she’s dead in the literal sense. This is 60 years in the future. She might be alive or not, but it’s never said. However, the timeline of 60 years later is considered an era without Violet, apparently because she has retired and her “legend” is over, so to say. It’s also a time where Auto-Memories Dolls don’t exist. That’s one good punch in the face. Let’s keep counting.

The movie is sort of like a tale being read by someone else, which at some point goes into Violet’s first-person POV. The whole thing is kind of a look back on Violet’s life tragectory and how it took a new turn when she decided to continue looking for Gil despite all the mess of the TV series.

The era where Violet exists is an era where telephones are being introduced to the people, so Auto-Memories Dolls are starting to become unnecessary. I would argue that the creation of the telephone isn’t enough for an entire occupation to start disappearing so quickly, since new inventions are normally extremely expensive and not everyone has access to them (or even knows about their existence) so immediately after their conception. Realistically speaking, ghostwriters would still be important as long as there were still so many people unable to buy phones. Not to mention that this is a steampunk world where compulsory education doesn’t seem to be a thing yet, so even in the off chance that everybody can buy a phone, there would still be a lot of people who can’t read or write on their own. But all of this clearly went over the animators’ heads, so not only ghostwriters but also the mail business in general are nearing their doom in the movie.

The one looking back on Violet’s life was Ann, who was telling it all to her granddaughter, Daisy (who, by the way, is voiced by Morohoshi Sumire, the same girl who voiced the seven-year-old Ann). Ann had kept all the letters that Violet ghostwrote for her mother, as well as the newspapers about the CH Postal Company. Looks like the article was printed after Violet left CH, since she isn’t in the picture with everyone else.

In this era, CH’s main office has been turned into a museum. Nerine is shown working in it. Of course, she’s a grandma by then. Speaking of the CH personnel, Erica also quit being an Auto-Memories Doll and became a playwright like Oscar. She appears in the newspaper, though, so she probably a while left after Violet did. Taylor also appears there.

Back to Daisy, she was writing a letter to her parents, in order to learn how to properly convey feelings with written word. The message of this scene seems to be that, no matter the tools, what’s important is that we convey our feelings to the people we love.

As we see in the trailer, Gil’s mom has passed and Violet runs into Dietfried when visiting her grave on the anniversary of her death. To anyone who is wondering: yeah, Gil never went to see his mother and she died thinking that he was dead.

Nobody knew that Gil was alive. Not his mother, not Dietfried, not the Evergardens and not even Hodgins. No one.

Here’s what happened to Gil in the anime: he survived the incident at Intense, of course, but got separated from Violet in that explosion. His tag miraculously stayed on the same spot, though, as we saw in the TV series. Now, since this isn’t explained in the anime at all, I have to make it clear: the tag is that necklace the soldiers wear. It contains their names and ranks, so that their bodies can be identified even when they’re irrecognizable. Without the tag, the people who rescued Gil had no idea who he was, so he was sent to a different place to get treated. He ended up at a monastery hospital instead of the one in Enchaîné. I would debate that his uniform alone is enough to identify him as someone from the Leidenschaftlich Army, or maybe they could’ve just asked him which troop he belonged to after he woke up and relocated him to where his fellow men were, but who even cares about all these plot holes anymore? Definitely not me.

Anyway. After Gil was discharged, he ran the fuck away. Like, literally.

If anyone out there was hoping that Gil would finally have his moment to shine as the self-sacrificing, thoughtful and ridiculously kindhearted character that he is in the novel, I have bad news for you. What we had here was even worse than it being Gil’s excuse movie. It’s like the whole thing was made to drag his character so deep through the mud that he’ll never be able to get up again. There’s pretty much nothing in this one and a half hour that actually justifies what he did to Violet. I’ll elaborate on this as we go on.

Anime!Gil became a nomad and went traveling. He offed his ass to the island where that lighthouse displayed in the most recent official art is located (that’s why Gil and Violet were at the beach on the movie poster). He doesn’t have a prosthetic in the anime because, apparently, he was more worried about disappearing as fast as possible to somewhere he would never be found, and never attempted to contact anybody. So nobody knew that he was alive, hence the grave, which, as we feared, was not a fake one. His family really did think he had died.

This is a point that I have already addressed before, but that also means Gil really did abandon Violet to luck. If anything dangerous ever happened to her (as it did, and it was always very obviously likely to happen, since she was the southern army’s most outstanding soldier and quite literally fled from the military), he wouldn’t even know. If word ever got to him, it would probably be too late. And even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help her. More than allowing her to live freely, it felt like he was running away from his responsibilities regarding Violet.

Punch on the face count is currently at six.

By sheer coincidence, Violet learns that Gil is living in that island. She goes to see him and Hodgins goes with her after trying to stop her at first. When Gil finds out that they came to see him, he outright refuses to meet them. It pretty much takes the near entirety of the goddamn movie for them to see each other face-to-face. I say face-to-face because all of the following shit happens:

Hodgins goes to talk to Gil. It lasts about 20 minutes.

Gil talks to Violet from behind a door. This one is about 10 minutes.

Dietfried also comes to the island to talk to him. Also about 10 minutes.

At long fucking last, Gil goes to see Violet. But that, too, is only for about 10 minutes.

Hodgins gives him a speech very similar to what happens in chapter 8. Now get ready to fall back from your seats: Dietfried basically goes there to tell Gil that he won’t run away from taking over the family anymore, so Gil can live freely. Yes, Dietfried is officially a better Gilbert than Gilbert himself. I crave death.

So, after much ado, they come to a conclusion: Gil will stay in the island. In order to completely free himself of the shackles of his bloodline, he stays behind, living the way he wants to. ‘Cause all anime!Gil wants is to rot away alone by the sea, apparently. Now prepare yourselves, for it gets worse. Ready?

Violet stays with him in the motherfucking island.

That’s right, ladies and gents. Another fear became true. She quits her job at the CH Postal Company and goes to live with him. Well, at least, not as a housewife. She starts working with mail services in the island, and Gil helps her with it. Her life goes on like this and she dies in the island as well.

This is where the timeline after Violet passes away comes into light, parallel to the era when Violet was alive. Daisy talks about what happened after Violet left CH, as if it were a tale from the distant past.

That’s it.

The movie paints this as a happy ending. I can hardly see it as one. I know it almost looks like everything was solved, but it just got swept under the rug.

The main point that makes me sad in this ending is that Violet’s character development did a 360 degree flip. In the end, she threw everything to the air and went to live in someone who she always put before everyone else, even herself, but who didn’t do the same for her (in the anime). She’s gone to a crammed little island, where she led an uneventful life away from everyone and everything that’s ever had a positive impact on her. All she has is Gil.

Of course, he’s all she needs, but he isn’t all she should have, and that was the entire point of pushing her to go live on her own. Which is exactly what she earns in the novel: two loving parents, a father figure, a brother figure, a best friend and several other friends and acquaintances whom she formed a bond with. She has all she needs, so she doesn’t have to cling to Gil for any reason. There’s no emotional dependance on him anymore. She doesn’t need him to be whole. She just wants him because he happens to be the best person she’s ever met.

Anime!Violet is most definitely not whole. She almost got there, but then she backtracked completely. And anime!Gil... in my friend’s words, is a weakling. There’s nothing in him actually worth all this undying blind love. Sure, he’s full of regret and shit, but it’s too easy to only act upon it now, by vanishing into thin air like a coward.

The deal with novel!Gil is that he looks around at everything he has, everything that had been burdening him and killing him on the inside all his life, and decides to make use of it for Violet’s sake. He continues being family head and working in the army, amassing money and connections in order to have every means possible to protect Violet should anything happen to her. And as it turns out, he does end up having to use those means, more than once, but he will keep this up for as long as he needs to, because he lives for her now. That’s what makes him worth all the blood, sweat, tears, mental sanity and even body parts that she gave away for his sake: he pays it back. Every cent.

Punch in the face count ends at twelve. Thirteen if I include the fact that the movie ends with a last shot of Violet after she and Gilbert do a pinky swear. Looks like they were really trying to buy everyone with tears.

Oh, well.

I hope this has been a good enough summary. Sorry if I rained on anyone’s parade. I’m pretty sure we won’t get a remake ever, so I really wish we all can get over this soon.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #violet evergarden movie #summary #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hodgins #dietfried bougainvillea

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

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Can you explain to me how Rachel was annoying in the series?

Well, I’ll try to keep myself short for this one (lol no, this took an hour to write). Also, let’s not forget that they’re all kids, but I’m basing this off from when I read the series as a fourteen year old because my opinions haven’t changed much (for better or for worse).

I’m not the biggest fan of Rachel. I have to admit that portrayals of her by Simi, Kit, Logan, Apollo and all the others helped to shape her into something cooler than what she had been in my foggy memories but I actually went back to take a look in the books (well, TTC + BOTL so far) to refreshen my mind about events that have happened.

Also, you should browse through @blackjacktheboss's blog as she’s a) hilarious and b) says whatever I say in like a single sentence lol. But your ask is about me and my opinions so here we go:

What I didn’t like about Rachel was that she’s rude and bold (DON’T GET ME WRONG, I love that in female characters!!!), but she doesn’t have Annabeth’s excuse of survival of the fittest (literally running off as a traumatized seven year old) and introducing us into the world of the Riordanverse.

Percy was on his way, had shit to deal with and Rachel pretty much interrupted him from the get-go and thought getting her answers was more important than letting Percy just rush forward. Yes, this is Rachel’s entrance into the series and the net Riordan threw into the sea, to make us little fish adapt to her. But it still didn’t sit right with me, probably because I would never interact that way.

I get why she did that, but it’s the way how she did it that’s just making me go ???

Even if I was seeing weird things, I wouldn’t set out to distract/interrupt someone who is incredibly busy to get my way. Rachel’s dick move seems like a Karen boomer type of thing to pull off, but guess that’s up to you.

If I were her, I’d either film/try to photograph the monsters via phone (if that’s possible) or internet stalk enough to find the other person (note: despite Riordan’s stupid rule of not being able to use phones, demigods still can use computers/the internet, I guess). Percy was national news like a year or two ago in the timeline, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find more stuff out about him, even in like 2008 or so. Let him have a spot on Perez Hilton's shitty gossip blog, for the OGs reading this.

Annabeth was used as a tool of exposition to introduce us to CHB, the demigod life and how things roll around there. She barged into Percy’s mission as a nuisance first but a necessity second in TLT.

However, in comparison to Rachel, Annabeth was transformed into a fully-fledged protagonist within a span of a chapter or two. Rachel needed another separate book after her first appearance, so we don’t just know Annabeth better, we know that she’s an important constant throughout the story as of Rachel seems… almost random? Is she truly necessary as a character?

This doesn’t come from a shipper perspective, this is coming from a character design perspective and adds to the feeling that the way she has been introduced to me as a reader just seems off.

Yes, BOTL makes sense with her as a reborn Ariadne, but technically Sally could’ve done the job as she’s a clear-sighted mortal as well lol. Then again, Sally is an adult, went to college, had a job, was unfortunately probably working it up with Paul, did the cha cha slide with him and had overall better shit to do.

Then Rachel as the oracle, which is just super weird in general. Wasn’t Apollo himself responsible for issuing prophecies in the OG myths? Or did he both, have the oracle of Delphi as his spokesperson and issue important stuff to Team Olympus? Am I mixing things up? I’m getting sidetracked, my bad.

Either way, this oracle gig might be the only time I’d say Rachel might be important in the future (badum tzz), but Riordan fumbled the bag in the follow ups series so there’s that. Did she even appear in HOO? Can’t remember and also don’t care.

Rachel is used as one out of three choices in regard to his love life that Percy can make. Calypso literally got introduced into BOTL and was admittedly Percy’s biggest what if… But the general gist doesn’t sit right with me. We have three possible routes with Percy and the others:

Rachel: somewhat normality in the mortal realm

Annabeth: the danger and thrill of the demigod life

Calypso: ambrosia and nectar. a hint of immortality

(On one hand, literally why but on the other hand, mad props for Percy who has literally three romantic leads in the same book.) I’d cancel one of them at least out and since Annabeth isn’t going anywhere, I’m taking Rachel. Sally could literally been Percy’s anchor to a normal mortal life as she had intended until it didn’t work out anymore when he became twelve and his monster alerting scent grew stronger.

Calypso and Annabeth would’ve been the perfect opposites where each of them had a strong case. The demigod life within the realms or mortal or the demigod life ascending to Olympus/immortality. Sounds cooler and is way simpler. Three people is way too much, this truly feels like a shonen anime harem thing and it’s defo not my cup of tea (and while some Annabeth sideships aren’t my thing (Lukabeth go cry in the corner, no one likes you, WTF, Connabeth you fugly), it’s super unfair that Annabeth solely has Percy (fuck off Luke) to rely on in regards of romantic endeavors).

Rachel almost feels redundant? The option to walk away from all of that… which isn’t really true as Rachel really tries to push and insert herself into the story the very first time we meet her? But that’s just me, I’m certain that others are saying they’d kill off Annabeth or kick Calypso (I mean yeah) into the curb.

Big ALSO:

Why does Percy need another white and uber-rich love interest?

I semi-joked on Dez’ post (@sawasawako) with this response about Annabeth needing to keep up with powerful Rachel, but the core still stands.

We already have an affluent Annabeth (granted, we don’t know exactly how the Chase’s riches are divided, whereas it’s clear that Rachel can just make anyone drop dead by saying who she is. Annabeth needed that weird lotus casino credit card to make that happen, so Miss Harvard Legacy doesn’t wield that Dare schmoney. Also don’t think Annabeth can just up papa’s money and go…? Idk).

Why do we need another person needing to upstage this?

Like Rachel has to triumph in regards to standard and prestige as if it were a badly written Jane Austen AU. For what reason…? Why not make Percy friends and acquaintances with someone who comes from a normal household for once, not super rich brats (Piper, Annabeth, Rachel, technically the Graces with their TV starlet mother amongst others).

Moreover…

Important question: why should Percy actually be impressed/attracted to that? He’s dirt poor and has been sent to (boarding) schools filled with stupid rich people since he’s been twelve, probably even younger than that. As if that’s the very first thing Percy would look out for or be wowed or something. He’s used to rich douchebags. I think he’s more surprised that someone used their money for his benefit for once and not to crash daddy’s new Mercedes again.

Like seriously… Rachel did that weird art project thing in BOTL with her covered in gold and posing like it’s a super normal thing to do? Even for rich snobbish kids standards? That sounds weird to me. I don’t know, maybe Riordan’s been streaming the new Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max on repeat and thought this girl is on fiyah (performed by Alicia Keys).

Rachel trying to separate herself from her money just comes off as super hypocritical when she’s using the very same funds to finance her lifestyle. I get it, trying to make amends and make a difference with the damage you have done but... your father still doesn't give a shit about the environment or YOU, sweetie. Kick him in the balls for once! Then you can go out about your art projects.

The concept of Percy having friends in the mortal realm is cool, but why does Rachel almost have to compete with Annabeth with her wealth and art stuff?

No seriously, the comparisons are constantly there, out and about. Roaming freely on the finest grass, needing to be feed delicious locally sourced carrots and stuff.

Annabeth is Athena’s kid. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, weaving, justice, warfare yada yada and arts and crafts. So definitely something which would affect Rachel, right (someone write that Athena messing with Rachel because she can AU and tag me please!)?

Annabeth wants to become an architect which translates to fancy building designer who is driving engineers like Leonardo Eugenio Valdez Cortes insane irl because the maths and physics don't work like that in the working field trust me I'm an engineer, which could/should be considered an art form.

They even shared some common ground while talking about architecture and design in BOTL!

Furthermore, they both share broken homes with absent parents (granted that all demigods go through that). Wealthy families at that as well. Shitty fathers that don’t care about their daughters well-being. Rachel however, is super powerful and influential in an unseen level in the mortal world. She isn’t like Matt Sloan (?) who truly messes up by destroying shit to get his father's attention, but she’s still in that circle and can easily demonstrate that. Making deals with her father and what not. We rarely see Annabeth doing that. Did y’all forget the fucking helicopter Rachel brought along in TLO?

Pan saying Rachel is just as important as her father has multiple meanings to me…

(Sidenote: I do think it’s hilarious that Annabeth is jealous/annoyed of Rachel that her remarks were she’s cute right and Percy went??? Or when Tyson said Rachel’s pretty? Or that time when Annabeth actually defended Luke and his weird behavior (because Kronos was slowly taking over, don’t forget that kids!), because f that rich artist nepotism kid that Rachel seems to be, right?)

Another note: Percy thinks Rachel is annoying in BOTL for a while and it took a while for him to admit that and he spent way more time being annoyed/jealous (for once, Lordy) at Luke for him to even notice lol.

I guess it’s really hard for me to exactly pinpoint what’s bothering me. I believe Rachel's persona just doesn’t seem to hit right, because it feels like a knock-off Annabeth who just simply isn’t a demigod, yet has two cool powers, but in even richer who still needs to be part of the story for exactly what reason?

The jumping around from the richest in the series to the poorest in the series is kinda bothering me as if the middle class doesn’t exist, like I’ve stated earlier. Why didn’t Riordan mix it up with Rachel, giving her more nuance the minute they met, not towards the end? Have her be Percy’s platonic friend from the get go. No weird oh wait she is kinda cute in the middle bullshit.

This kinda drifted more into a Perachel vs Percabeth essay, which really wasn’t my intention. Don’t worry kids, I’m criticizing Annabeth (and her stans) enough already.

And I do think that others in the fandom have softened my views on Rachel as a person like I’ve stated in the beginning. So friendship!Perachel is popping! But I do think that there are some valid points that I’ve made.

Also not gonna lie, Rachel issuing the new prophecy in TLO kinda dampened the end of PJO series but that’s more Riordan’s fault than hers.

TLDR: I’m just not a huge fan of this overbearing, uber-rich, excessively flaunting being that Rachel sometimes displays. She’s flawed, she’s broken at times, has a semi-interesting background story (although it has been done over and over again throughout the series and should be changed up for once) which is great, but it is still annoying.

We don’t need an anti-Annabeth who feels like a weird caricature of the real Annabeth.

Also if this seems super incoherent, repetitive, or whatever, I'm sorry, massive headaches + mental health going down the goo lagoon does this to ya, I hope I made somewhat sense!

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo Meta #percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #ttc #botl #tlo

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freaoscanlin · 3 years

Text

Put It On the List

3283 words, rated PG. Clint/Laura, Laura & Natasha, Natasha & Clint.

A few months before the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier, the spy life interrupts the Barton family on a normal errand. Perhaps bringing the scary ex-Russian spy was a mistake. She thinks so, at any rate.

A/N: I wrote this as something of a prelude to an Endgame fix-it fic in progress. It predates everything in that fic and it's cute, so I'm tossing it up here for now.

“Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

“Sorry we can’t provide more excitement than grocery shopping,” Laura said as she pulled out the stash of reusable bags from the trunk.

“It’s fine.”

Laura was of the opinion that a vacation should be taken somewhere exotic, or at least filled with bottomless alcoholic beverages, especially given as young and unfettered as Natasha was. But the woman who had recently become Captain America’s partner at SHIELD had apparently decided a week off merited a trip to Iowa and she had been absolutely content to tag along on family outings with no apparently sign of boredom at all.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, hopping out from the driver’s seat as Natasha unhooked Lila from her car seat. “Nat’s secretly boring at heart. It’s the best kept secret at SHIELD.”

Natasha gave him a puzzled look. “Now, that can’t be true if even you’ve figured it out.”

“Excellent burn,” Laura said, laughing. “You really should come stay more often.”

“Somebody needs to keep Cap in line, otherwise I would.” Nat easily swung Lila onto her hip, following the other three as Cooper grabbed onto his father’s hand.

Laura had already spent the entire dinner the night before peppering her with questions about working with Steve Rogers, the Captain America from the comments. Clint had mentioned him a few times after that kerfuffle in New York with the Chitauri (“Nice guy, wears khakis.”), but Natasha had the inside scoop. And more willingness to share if he was as attractive in person as he looked on TV in that ridiculous star-striped uniform (“If you like that square-jawed All-American sort of thing, sure.”). Laura had even pointed out that, hey, if he was single...

“Yes, the ex-Russian spy and the American war hero. It sounds too much like a bad eighties movie.” Natasha had helped herself to more creamed corn. “I think I’ll have to find him a girlfriend to avoid ever having to answer that question again.”

“Hey,” Laura had said, protesting.

“Fair,” Clint had agreed.

And now here was the ex-Russian spy herself tagging along at the grocery store, carrying Lila and looking like there wasn’t anyplace else she’d rather be than the big chain grocery store a few towns over because they had a better selection of gluten free snacks than the Shop A Lot back home. She trailed along as Clint took over the cart, Lila kicking her legs happily from the child’s seat atop.

“You’ve got the list?” Laura asked.

“I thought you had it?”

“Clint, I said you need to grab it off the fridge before we left. Weren’t you listening?”

“I always listen to you. But it wasn’t on the fridge, so I thought you had it.”

“That’s ridiculous, I put it there last night and—” Laura turned to see Natasha silently holding it out, eyebrows high. “Oh, that works. Thanks, Natasha.”

A half-shrug. “He would’ve forgotten it.”

“They’re impugning my honor,” Clint told Lila and Cooper, the former of whom giggled back at him. “What’s first? Edible or not edible?”

“Food first. Oh, hey, did you remember to put the popsicle sticks on here? Cooper’s day camp was asking people to donate supplies, and I put us down for those.”

“Yes, I absolutely did that. For no reason whatsoever, may I see the list?” Clint grabbed it away and underhandedly passed it to Natasha. Since Laura caught the move, she figured they weren’t actually trying to hide it.

When the list returned to her, “popsicle sticks” was written on the appropriate line in slightly loopy handwriting. “Cute,” Laura said. “Also, if there’s food you want that we don’t have at the house, make sure you put it in, Nat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Just keep it in mind.” Laura smirked. “Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile broke out when Laura laughed. Later, Laura noticed that a small bag of nectarines had been added to the cart.

Normally she did this errand without two spies in tow, which was a matter of getting the groceries as quickly as possible and especially speeding through the aisles with the brightly colored boxes that would make Cooper and now Lila whine. Clint’s paycheck was more than generous enough to cover their expenses, but she liked to keep the sugar down at least a little. Grocery trips could be a nightmare from that alone. But now she could send one of them down the danger aisles, while the other distracted the children.

She could get used to this.

Of course, she could have just sent Clint or even Natasha to do the shopping—or gone herself—and she imagined they’d have it done in less than a fifth of the time it took them to wander the aisles now. But Clint had been called on so many SHIELD missions lately that it was nice to just have some family time together.

She was about to suggest they hit up the putt putt course on the way home when Clint’s body language snapped into readiness. On the other side of the cart, Natasha turned away in what most people would deem a casual fashion, but Laura was surprised to see tension running across the line of her shoulders as well.

Instantly, she began to turn her head, to see what had set them both off.

“Don’t look,” Natasha said, Clint echoing her a split-second later.

Cold panic sprang up, but Laura froze in place. The air conditioning turned abruptly frigid. In the basket, Lila had conked out, wheezing a little, and Laura had never been so grateful for her daughter’s ability to fall asleep anywhere.

“This way,” Clint said in a murmur, scooping up Cooper. To strangers, it would never look out of the ordinary, but Laura knew her husband too well to be fooled. And his partner, too, apparently, for she could sense something amiss as Natasha fell in step behind her. At the end of the aisle, away from the registers and most of the store, Clint began shoving aside various things in the cart to deposit Cooper in there. He glanced at Laura. “It’ll be okay, honey. Nat, are they here for you or me?”

“Me.” The word was flat. “They’re scoping out women.”

“Who? Who’s here for what?”

She’d seen Clint and Natasha’s silent conversations before, usually at holiday dinners, but those were always warm and amused. Now, Laura was treated to the fact that they seemingly had their own entire language—and the ability to hold arguments with little more than a few nods and pointed looks.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Cooper asked. “Dad put the stuff back wrong.”

“I know. It’s okay, though. The store employees will know where to put it back properly.” Her pulse had begun to hammer, but Laura did her best to keep her hands steady as she petted Lila’s bent head.

“Fine, you win,” Natasha said, the first words she’d spoken aloud. “Where?”

“Northeast corner, break room.” Clint collected an oversized bucket of licorice, and as Laura and Cooper gawked at him, popped it open and dumped the individually wrapped candies into the cart.

Natasha dropped her phone into it and grabbed Laura’s purse.

“What? Hey, don’t—”

Natasha pulled out a few items, including Laura’s phone. This she dumped in the bucket. An unfamiliar black box, she tossed to Clint. Laura stared mournfully at the shimmery blue phone case bought off of Etsy only last week as the entire bucket was hidden on a shelf behind a case of gum. Clint tossed his hooded jacket to Natasha, gave Laura one brief, heart-stopping look, tousled Cooper’s hair, kissed Lila on the head, and strode off without looking back.

“We were followed,” Natasha said in an undertone, pulling the hood over her distinctive hair.

Followed could mean anything from evil assassins to space aliens at this point, and both of those options led to nauseating conclusions. But Natasha shot her a look, so Laura nodded and swallowed back any panic. And then she changed again, quicksilver just like Clint, so that she was bright and happy Auntie Natasha once more. She picked up Cooper out of the basket and held onto his hand, swinging it cheerfully. “Time to play a new fun game. It’s called ‘Let’s be invisible.��”

“How do you play?”

“Our job,” and Natasha actually hunkered down so that she was on eye level with Cooper, “is to get all the way there,” she pointed to the back of the store, “as fast as we can without running. Because if we run, we won’t be invisible anymore.”

“This is a silly game, Auntie Nat.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it? Shh, come with me.” Natasha rose and made brief eye contact with Laura, then headed down the aisle in the opposite direction from Clint. She walked briskly, but not fast enough to draw attention, and Laura had to follow. “Clint’s scoping things out,” she said in a low voice as Laura caught up with the sleeping Lila. “He’ll be fine. I’m taking you and the kids to hide.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“You’ll be safe.”

So that was a no. Because she knew her friend well enough, she knew Natasha was tense and watchful, but not a single thing about her betrayed that fact. Natasha didn’t lead them straight to wherever they were going, either. They crossed the store through random aisles, first through the art department and then sporting goods, and Laura’s heart sank as she noticed they were approaching the toy department. They were never escaping without at least one meltdown.

But Natasha surprised her by leaning down and whispering something to Cooper that had him giggling. And right on through they went without a single problem.

“Shh,” Natasha said to Cooper as she pushed open the door to a break room. She peeked inside, then jerked her head for Laura to follow.

“What are we doing, Auntie Nat?” Cooper asked as Natasha immediately climbed onto a table and reached for the ceiling.

“New part of the game,” Natasha said.

Laura looked at the human-sized trap door she’d opened and thought Oh no.

“You get to go up there,” Natasha said. “And it’ll be like hide and seek.”

Cooper’s expression suddenly shouted that he found the prospect of invisibility much less enchanting now. “It looks scary.”

“I’ll be with you,” Laura said. “The whole time. We’ll be invisible together, okay?”

“You first, and I’ll hand them up,” Natasha said.

Laura clambered gingerly onto the table, wishing she’d worn better shoes for this. She put her foot into Natasha’s cupped hands and hauled herself into a very, very dusty vent. Darkness surrounded her and she thought Oh, no. Cooper needed a nightlight on the best of nights. Her son was far cleverer than most; even with Natasha’s easy cheer, he could clearly tell something was off. And if he began crying, Lila was bound to wake as well. Keeping them both quiet would be beyond impossible.

Natasha passed Lila up first, and the toddler barely even stirred. Before she could lift Cooper, she hopped off the table and down to his level. Laura couldn’t hear what she said, but she saw Cooper nod and hold his arms up, completely trusting.

When Natasha lifted him up into the vent, he had his chubby little fist wrapped around a little flashlight. Laura hadn’t even seen Natasha pull that from the shelf, though she recognized it as being from sporting goods. Cooper waved it about, wildly.

“I couldn’t grab much,” Natasha said, hauling herself up so that she hung half off the trap door. Laura would kill for that kind of core strength. She slid over two coloring books and crayons. “Sorry about that. Stay here until Clint or I come to get you. If somebody comes in, we’re invisible, right?”

“Invisible,” Cooper agreed, scrambling for the coloring books.

“Good man.” Natasha reached up to ruffle his hair like Clint had done. She glanced about the air vent in a distinctly sardonic way. “Cozy.”

“Stay safe.”

“Will do.” She raised an eyebrow at Laura, and disappeared down the hatch. A few seconds later, the trapdoor slid back into place, leaving Laura in a dark vent with her children and no cell phone to keep them company.

She had to remind herself that they were lucky something like this hadn’t happened before, though that felt like cold comfort when everything smelled like dust. She shifted the sleeping Lila in her arms. “Here, set it here,” she said, helping Cooper open the coloring book. “What shall we color first, huh?”

* * * *

Nearly eleven minutes later, Natasha knelt down next to the man she’d cornered in Home and Garden and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Coincidence.”

“Yup.” Clint sounded close to laughter, the traitor.

“The whole thing. Coincidence.”

“Looks that way.”

Natasha sat down hard on the bottom shelf, which held giant sacks of birdseed. Slamming his head into those rather than the concrete floor was probably the only reason the thug was even still breathing. She’d need to hide the body soon, and alert SHIELD, but she had a few minutes to recover. The cell phone she’d stolen out of his pocket after their fight didn’t show an image of her, as she’d expected, but a completely random woman who looked nothing like Natasha outside of being the same height.

It had definitely been a hit, but she hadn’t been the target.

At least they’d saved some random woman, so there was that.

“We should’ve known they weren’t here for you when there were only two of them,” Clint said over the earpiece. He’d teased her about stashing them in Laura’s purse before they left, the traitor. And look who’d been correct to do so. It had kept them in contact as he’d stalked his own target back to the clearance section in the back. “Mine’s taken care of. You?”

“One minute.” She hauled the man bodily onto the shelf and tossed sacks of birdseed over him.

“I’ll get the phones and swing by to steal the surveillance. You fetch Laura and the kids.”

Natasha winced. The last thing she wanted to do was face Laura after ruining this outing for everybody. “I think they’d rather see their daddy after being stuffed in a dark place out of nowhere.”

“Nah, Auntie Nat is just as good,” Clint said. “Face it, you’re part of the family now, god help you.”

“Yeah, part of the family that can’t even let us go grocery shopping without disaster striking.”

There was a warm laugh from the other side of the comms. “Disaster? This is nothing compared to getting two small children through the cereal aisle without a tantrum, Romanoff.”

Natasha, reaching up to fix the braids that had become disordered during the scuffle, wrinkled her nose. She debated whether or not to swing by the staff restrooms on the way and clean up the lucky hit the thug had landed, but decided it was more important to get la familia Barton out of the vents quickly. The less time the children spent in a dark, scary place, the better.

She resolutely did not think of the absolute darkness of thatshipping container, which unfortunately brought the thoughts closer to the surface than she liked.

But she also didn’t want to scare the children, so she grabbed a hand towel off an endcap as she passed, and dabbed at her face.

Mercifully, the break room remained empty when she stepped in. “All clear,” she said, moving the table back under the trap door. “Invisible game’s over.”

From inside, she heard thumping. “Auntie Nat!”

“Cooper, wait—” was the only warning she had before the trap door opened and Cooper launched himself at her.

She snatched him out of the air, and absolutely did not think about what could have happened if she’d been slower to react. “Whoa, okay. Excited to get out of there, huh?” Laura’s white face appeared over the edge, eyes wide. Natasha mouthed he’s fine back at her. “Here, climb down, let me help your mom and your sister out.”

“I stayed so-o-o-o quiet,” Cooper said. “We colored in a dinosaur for you, but we didn’t know your favorite color so I picked red like your hair. What is your favorite color? There’s another dinosaur on the page, so if it’s not red, I can use that color instead.”

“I do like red a lot.” Natasha thought about it. “Purple, too, maybe.”

“You can’t have purple, that’s Dad’s favorite color.”

“Coop, more than one person can have purple as their favorite color,” Laura said, transferring Lila down to Natasha. Mercifully the baby had slept through all of it. “I like purple, too, remember?”

Cooper wrinkled his nose at that. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it purple.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Natasha promised. Once the entire family had been retrieved, she pushed the trap door back into place. Of course Clint had scouted this spot months ago. His paranoia remained legendary. “Family’s secure, Barton.”

“Got it,” Clint said. “Heading to the front.”

“Meet you there,” Natasha said. To the others with her, she tilted her head toward the door. “Ready to get out of here?”

Laura looked more or less composed, which Natasha had to credit her for. Civilians rarely handled those kinds of curveballs well, but she’d been married to Clint for a decade. It stood to reason this might not even be the first time something like this had happened. Her grip on the sleeping Lila remained tight. “Coop, hold Auntie Nat’s hand, okay? Humor me.”

“All right, I guess.”

“Everything good?” Laura asked.

“False alarm,” Natasha said.

One eyebrow went up. “A false alarm gave you a split lip?”

Natasha worked at it with her tongue, scrunching her nose at the brief spark of pain. “Just another exciting day in our line of work. It all turned out okay, if you ignore that we were unsuccessful in our primary objective.”

Laura looked blank, so Natasha prompted: “Getting the groceries, Barton.”

“Pfft, whatever. We’ll get takeout. We’ll consider it an adventure, and it won’t even be the first one today. Hopefully there will be less dust this time.” Laura leaned over, conspiratorially. “I am getting my phone back, right? I really like the case, and it’ll take forever to get another one like it.”

Years of espionage training kept Natasha from staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. Clint had told her years before that his wife was far more pragmatic than either of them, but she’d never had a chance to witness it in action before. She almost wanted to ask if this was some kind of backwoods Midwestern thing, but it seemed better not to do that.

So she settled into a helpless laugh. “Yes, we’ll get your phone back. The case is really cute.”

“Good. I knew you’d agree.” Laura squeezed her shoulder with her free hand, and it felt more like a thank you than Natasha had ever received after years and years on the job.

“One point,” Natasha said, feeling a tiny bit shy as as she pulled out a package she’d swiped on their trip through the store earlier. “We should probably pay for the coloring books. And these.”

Laura looked down at the bag of popsicle sticks and laughed. “You really are a hero.”

FIN

(the target was a leaked witsec hit. Bad timing all around)

#avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #laura barton #cooper barton #lila barton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #not simple to say verse

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annabethy · 3 years

Text

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 12: café

Character A is stuck working in coffee shop on Christmas Day and Character B is the lonely soul spending their whole day there,, percabeth

Annabeth never thought she’d be the type of person to end up working on Christmas, thousands of miles away from home. She imagined herself at this point in her live with her friends and family, huddled near a fire on Christmas Day.

Instead, this is what she gets.

She gets an uncomfortable table in the corner of a coffee shop, stuck in the middle of a New York winter.

It’s the first time in her life that she didn’t get a warm Christmas, and it’s... different. Not bad, but she misses home. So she supposes this is her attempt to make herself feel better, sitting in a cafe by herself typing away at her computer.

Annabeth sighs, fingers pausing. She honestly doesn’t even know what she’s typing at this point. She’s too distracted by the absence of people around her and wishing that she were anywhere but here.

She doesn’t notice the person behind the counter staring at her until there’s a drink sliding in front of her face. Annabeth looks up in confusion, unaware that they had been so close to her, and is met with a kind smile.

“A drink,” he says, pushing it towards her a little bit more.

She still doesn’t say anything, instead looking back to the drink. It’s a pretty drink, almost too perfect to actually consume. It’s peppermint, no doubt, with the flawless white and red swirls inside the clear cup and steaming out the top.

“You don’t have to pay for it;” he assures her. She drags her eyes back to his, sees him leaning on the counter in patience, a subtle smile still on his face. His eyes surprise her, a vibrant green. “It’s on me.”

She lets herself break. “Thank you,” she says, pulling it towards her. She brings the cup to her lips and takes the runway sip. The second the taste hits her tongue, she is in love. A small, disbelieving laugh bubbles out of her throat in astonishment.

“Secret recipe,” he tells her, winking. She decides then that she really likes his smile that’s warm and welcoming. His eyes light up brighter than the lights strewn around the cafe, and his body language screams that he’s truly a beautiful soul. There’s a Christmas apron tied around his waist, and his name tag that reads Percy has a reindeer haphazardly drawn on it. It’s cute, and it doesn’t look like he’s the one that drew it.

“Thank you, Percy.”

“Aw, that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

She pauses. “What is?”

“You’re calling me by my name, yet I don’t even know yours.”

She wouldn’t normally tell a stranger her name. She’s careful about those types of things as a girl living alone in a big city, so she doesn’t know what prompts her to answer.

“I’m Annabeth.”

“Annabeth. Huh. That’s a cute name.”

“So is Percy.”

“Please. Percy is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard.”

She laughs, lifting and pinching her fingers close together. “Only a little bit.”

“I blame my mom.” Percy moves to put a few of the things around him away. He’s not looking at her as he asks, “What are you doing here on Christmas, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“What are you doing working here on Christmas?” she counters, but not unkindly.

“You answer a question with a question?”

“You just did the same thing.”

Percy’s hand shoot playfully in surrender. “You got me there.”

Annabeth glances down to get away from his eyes that feel as though they bore down into her soul. “I didn’t have anywhere to go,” she says truthfully.

“No family?”

“California. Couldn’t afford to go this year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Nothing I can do now.”

He pauses in front of her again. “I’ll be your Christmas buddy then, so you’re not all alone.”

Annabeth looks around. Not a single other person is in the shop. She looks back at him, doubtful. “You’re obligated to do that. You work here.”

“I am being one-hundred percent honest when I say I would not care if I got fired from this job,” he says, making her choke slightly. “But you’re wrong. I would have talked to you anyways, even if I was another customer. You looked like you could use someone to talk to.”

“I look lonely,” she summarizes.

“Lonely isn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s getting me your pity points.”

“It really isn’t a bad thing,” he insists. “I want to be talking to you. If I didn’t want to talk, then I wouldn’t have. Besides, I’m in the same boat as you. Family’s a bit far, and I had to work.”

“I’m sorry for making you work then.”

“I’m talking to you at work, not for work. There’s a difference,” he says, eyes gleaming.

She leans forwards. She’s caught onto his game, and she chooses to play along. “So tell me then, Percy, why are you talking to me at work?”

“No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“You wanted to be my special person?”

“Something like that,” he agrees.

“So you made me a drink to win me over, yeah?”

“You got it.”

It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for her. She wonders if she’s imaging it all. There’s no way someone like this exists. He’s too pure for the world, and she can see it from a mile away with the way he smiles, laughs, and pushes festive drinks in front of strangers because he thinks they deserve so much more than sitting in a lonely coffee shop.

“Do you think you have to work right now?” Annabeth asks, hoping he’ll sit beside her.

Percy looks around the shop. “I don’t know. It’s pretty busy in here.”

She rolls her eyes fondly, patting the stool next to her. “Come. If you’re going to be my Christmas buddy, you have to sit next to me while I work.”

“Not working and sitting next to a pretty girl? Sounds like a win to me.” He comes around the counter and sits next to her. He peers at her computer, and she can tell that he expects her to start typing away. Instead, she shuts the top and rests her hand on her curled-up fist, choosing to talk to him instead.

“Do you have a kid?” she asks, now focused on his nametag again, and the terribly drawn Rudolph.

Percy snorts. “I’m sorry?”

“Your nametag,” she says. “It looks like a toddler did it.”

“Oh. I don’t like you anymore. You insulted my art skills.”

“You actually drew that?”

“No, but what if I did? You could have just destroyed the aspiring artist in me.”

“If you had drawn that, it would’ve stayed as an aspiring artist.”

“That one was good,” he praises, humored. “But in my defense, a toddler did draw it. It just wasn’t my kid because I am twenty-one and have no interest in being a father.”

“No kids?”

“I mean, not now. In the future maybe, with the right person. But not now.”

Annabeth’s heart stutters. She feels like there’s static in the air, thrumming inside her body. “And you haven’t met that right person?”

Percy locks eyes with her and tilts his head earnestly. “I’m still trying to find out.”

And, oh, it makes her feel warm. This isn’t her, but she’s so far in that she doesn’t care. She doesn’t know him, but she is determined to change that because there is just something about him that she needs to figure out. She likes logic and clues, and he is littered with them. There is an equation, and she thinks that just maybe, together they are the solution.

“You’re trying to figure it out about who?” she asks.

Percy must catch her lie because he smirks at her, and she is compelled to kiss the smirk away. “It’s this girl. I haven’t known her long, but she really likes coffee. She’s also so determined, wanting to build a future. I mean, she works on Christmas alone in a café. A lot of people would find it weird, but she’s lucky I find it cute.”

“She sounds familiar. Do I know her?”

Percy hums. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Bummer.” A silence settles between them, but it’s not awkward. She uses the time to look over him shamelessly. He lets her, and returns the favor himself, making her feel beautiful with every agonizing trace of his eyes against her. “What would the girl need to do to get a chance with you?” “Here’s the thing. I like this girl very much. She’d probably think it was weird how much I liked her, but I’ve actually seen her in the shop a million times before, which is probably weirder now that I think about it. But I have her order memorized and have been trying to figure out how to ask her out for the past few weeks. I didn’t get to ask her out until recently though.”

“What did she say?”

Percy bites his bottom lip, a teasing smile, and hands the reigns to her. “You tell me.”

“But her answer would depend on where you want to take her!”

“I thought a cute first date would be on Christmas, actually. I have a small group of friends coming over, maybe two or three, and we’re going to watch movies all night and eat candy. Everyone will be in sweaters and sweatpants, and there will be lots of snuggles. There’s just one thing.”

Annabeth has to force her breathing to calm because this game is going to drive her insane. “And what is that?”

“Do you think she’ll think that’s coming on too strong?”

“Not at all,” she whispers. “She’ll probably say that sounds like the best date she could ever dream of.”

“Then I guess I have to take this girl on a date,” he says.

“I guess you do.”

“Do you think it would be okay if I kissed this girl too? Even if I’ve only known her for around half an hour?”

“That depends on if she believes in love at first sight.” “Does she?”

“She didn’t,” she answers honestly, “until now.”

“So she believes in love at first sight?”

“Let’s call it a Christmas miracle.”

“And she wants me to kiss her?”

“She’ll be upset if you don’t.”

Percy’s eyes are full of every emotion, gorgeous and loving. “Then I guess I have to fulfil.”

And when he pulls her closer to him, settling his lips on hers, she feels content. He’s warm and soft and beautiful and perfect, and she could linger in this moment forever. He pulls away but she follows, desperate to prolong the moment, and he complies.

By the time he pulls away, they’re both breathless. Percy’s breaths hit her lips with every inhale. His eyes are closed, his forehead against hers, and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“When can they go on that date?” she whispers.

“Why not now?”

Her heart flutters. “Now’s good.”

It takes a few minutes for him to close before they’re finally walking out of the store. She thinks he’s going to take her to his apartment but surprises her instead when they end up inside of a cheesy Christmas store. The shelves are lined with Christmas pajamas and socks, and he makes her pick some out.

“It’s not Christmas if you don’t look like a candy cane!”

“I don’t like candy canes.”

Percy frowns before spotting a matching pair of socks and pulling them up. “These are perfect! You’d look so cute!”

And yeah, Annabeth thinks she’s falling in love.

There’s something in the air that tells her she’s going to marry this man.

It’s not until three Christmases later that Annabeth is back inside that shop, and Percy is behind the counter. He slides the peppermint mocha in front of her face, and she looks up from her computer long enough to give him a quick kiss. When he comes around the counter, she expects him to sit on the stool next to her.

Instead, he gets down on one knee.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #my writing

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heliads · 3 years

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Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Four: Hopeless

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

After realizing that you’re in love with Peter Parker, it feels even harder to drag yourself out of bed to head to school the next morning. Even the sight of him walking towards you from across the crowded hallways of Midtown hurts- you know that no matter how close the two of you become, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend.

In fact, just the simple act of seeing him confirms that you truly love him. You’re not sure how you didn’t realize it before, but it’s glaringly obvious now. When the two of you are paired together for some partner activity in class, you’re able to laugh and smile with him as if you’ve known him your entire life.

That’s the easiest thing about Peter- with him, you’re able to just live and be whoever you want to be. There aren’t any expectations with him- no rules or assumptions or anything. He doesn’t presume you to be anything more than yourself. You’re not sure anyone’s made you feel like that in a long time.

However, things aren’t exactly perfect. Now that you’re actually paying attention to how you feel about Peter, you’re also noticing how Peter feels about other people. Specifically, how he feels about one of his closest friends, MJ. Case in point: whatever’s going on with them during this exact lunch one sunny afternoon at Midtown.

Although technically there are four of you at the lunch table, Peter’s clearly centered around MJ and MJ alone. He’s sitting next to her, leaning over to face her in a way that shuts out everything else around him. They’re engaged in some deep conversation about the ethics of neuroscience, something that you happen to know a lot about thanks to Stephen and that you could easily debate along with them. However, you already tried to enter the conversation and were talked over more than a few times, so you’ve given that up.

You can’t exactly blame Peter for being wrapped up in MJ. She’s practically perfect for him- she supports him being Spider-Man, she knows enough about his favorite topics to have discussions like the one they’re having now, and they both have the perfect blend of shy and talkative that makes them equals. The only problem is that she’s not you.

The worst part is that Peter is clearly in love with her. Here’s the thing- nobody looks at a girl the way Peter is looking at MJ right now, with that stupid soft smile on his face as she talks and that unnameable expression his eyes, without being in love. You suppose that’s why it hurts you so much to see him. It shouldn’t, of course, Peter’s known MJ for far longer than he’s known you and you just arrived at Midtown a few months ago. Yet your heart still feels a painful twinge every time you glance their way.

“You good, Y/N?”

You’re broken out of your trance when Ned speaks to you. Blinking once to clear your head, you turn to him. “Yeah, I’m just, uh, considering my plans for the future. I’ve heard about this really cool opportunity within the different international Sanctums to go out in search of people who could potentially become Masters of the Mystic Arts to monitor them and offer aid if they need it.”

What you’re talking about isn’t a lie- you have heard about this program, and it’s been simmering away in the back of your mind for quite some time. You had assumed that you weren’t going to act on it, as your life was going very well over in New York, but for once you might be convinced to move away as a nomad for the sorcerers.

Ned looks impressed. “That does sound cool. So you’d basically get to vacation around the world in the name of the Sanctums?” You incline your head, confirming his words. “That’s the thing- it sounds amazing. The only thing is, I’d have to apply and I don’t know if they’ll let me in or not. And, even if they do let me in, I’m just wondering if I would be able to leave all of this behind. It feels like I just got here.”

Ned nods. “I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you. Wizards-I mean, sorcerers, kind of have a priority of coolness over everything else. I guess you just have to ask yourself what you’d be giving up by leaving, and if you think the pros of the trip would outweigh the cons.”

You look at him, somewhat surprised. “That’s actually really good advice. Thanks, Ned.” The boy smiles. “Hey, if I can’t be a superhero I can at least give out super-good talks.” The two of you dissolve in laughter, but your smile fades slightly when you realize Peter hasn’t even heard you at all. Would he care if you left?

The next day, you slump down into your seat at the lunch table with a glower that could rival the stormy weather outside. Ned raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Well, I didn’t think you could look even more depressed than yesterday, but I guess I was wrong. What, did Sorcerers Worldwide not let you into their program?”

You point a finger at him in agreement. “I showed up and asked if I could go through with their program. I showed them everything I could do, which is more than the average adult at the Sanctum. Even with that, they still won’t let me go. They kept saying something about how I should be finishing school before I go traipsing around the globe. That doesn’t even make sense- they pulled me out of my freshman and sophomore years so they could train me at Kamar-Taj, why is it not okay now?”

Across the table from you, Peter looks stunned. “Wait, what do you mean? You were going to leave Midtown for some errand of the sorcerers?” You nod, staring up at the ceiling bleakly. “It was going to be so cool, too. But no, I have to wait until I’m out of high school or college or whenever they run out of excuses.”

Peter leans forward, and you realize for the first time that he actually seems cross, almost hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you liked it here.” You can’t help but feel defensive at his questioning. “I did. Yesterday, at lunch. I talked about it right here. I guess you weren't paying attention. Besides, I do like Midtown, but are you telling me you’d rather go to high school than travel the world?”

Peter scoffs. “Yeah, it would be fun to leave for a vacation or a weekend trip. You just got here, do you really not care about all of us enough to leave it all behind for some jaunt around the world?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why are you so upset? I just said that I wouldn’t be going anyway. And besides, I do care about everyone here, which is why I talked about the possibility of me going on this trip yesterday to all of you. I suppose you just weren’t listening.”

Peter’s opening his mouth, presumably to deliver a no doubt intense remark, but Ned places his hands in between the two of you, interrupting him. “You know what, I think what Peter means is that we’d all be sad to see you go, Y/N. We’re sorry that you didn’t get into your program, but at least you still have us, right?”

You tilt your head towards Ned, pointedly ignoring Peter. “Thank you, Ned. I absolutely agree. Midtown is, and will always be, an amazing school with amazing people and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” You and Ned continue to have a conversation in the same forced calm voices, and eventually Peter joins in. MJ arrives later, and joins in the chatter as well, although she does raise her eyebrows at the tension clearly brewing between you and Peter.

When lunch ends, the four of you are heading back to your classroom when you suddenly stop moving. Your friends stop as well, looking back at you in confusion. “Everything alright, Y/N?” MJ asks, but you just shake your head fervently. “Everything is very much not alright. It’s like I can sense something strange in the school. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t human and it isn’t going away.”

Your friends walk back up to you. “Can you tell us anything else about it?” Ned questions. You try and latch onto the sudden feeling, but you can’t sense anything else. “I think I’m going to have to use my astral form to check it out. Can you make sure nobody notices what I’m doing?” Your friends nod their assent, and huddle up around you to hide you from view. If anyone happens to walk by, they’ll just see a group of students clustered around a locker.

You fling your shoulders back, closing your eyes and opening them once more to find yourself in your astral form, glowing and weightless just like normal. As you head off down the hallway in search of whatever malevolent entity is creeping around the school, you glance once over your shoulder and can’t help but feel slightly better when you notice that Peter is the first one to reach out and catch you, despite everything that just happened.

Brushing away thoughts of Peter and the concern clearly written across his face at the thought of you heading into danger, you continue on down the hallways. You quickly check classrooms and halls of lockers, and you notice that the strange feeling of darkness is emanating from a room down a few flights of stairs. The basement.

Of course it had to be the basement, the darkest, coldest, most formidable place in the whole school. Why couldn’t creepy things just hide in plain sight for once? Why the basement? You shudder briefly, then force yourself down through the floor until you’re standing just outside the basement door. You step forward, walking through the door, and suppress a silent scream when you see what’s inside.

When you suddenly jerk back to life in Peter’s arms, your friends look at you with startled eyes. “What is it? What did you see?” All you can do is clasp on to Peter, who’s still holding you tight. “Something is coming. Something bad.”

tag list: @dude-were-getting-the-band-back @xroselights @idiotic--punk

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

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Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie! I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it. Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits. It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains. I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting. Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts. Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack. Unsurprisingly, none of it works. The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now. I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already. Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter. "You're up too, hmm~? Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store. "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice. "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night. Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go. It's super creepy!" She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them. I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand. Not like I had anything better to do. What was I gonna do, sleep? Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself. "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes. "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with. "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work. I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands. "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her. "I want your heart, Toga. Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off. "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks. My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head. Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off. It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off. "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago. Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway. He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child." He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM. "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness. "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips. "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far." I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you. Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around." His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head. "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed. Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave. I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual. I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up. But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference. I started thinking there was something in the tea.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said. He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen. "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up. "Am I bothering you? I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?" It was an unexpected question. He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us. He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack. He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling. The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities. They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches. "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy. "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen. Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated. I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines. I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface. If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment. The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy. I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want. Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way. I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep. In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body. It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable. It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite. He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother. I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest. If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth. "I was lonely before I found these guys. I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk. "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup." He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly. "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all! Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile. "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time. The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay. You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way. And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me. You can't see it now, but it's there. Keep fighting through it." He touched my hand over the glass. "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents. "You'd be a great Dad, Twice." I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response. "I've always wanted a kid. Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine. "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with. "Let it out, kid. Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me. Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed. "Hey. If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes. Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store. The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes. I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing." I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most. Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura. "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up. "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we? Us damn human can't help but think. It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up. "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone? We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long. It never ends well." He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck. "We all got demons, kid. It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first. And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point. I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for. I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villians x reader #dabi #toga himiko #mha twice #kurogiri #shigaraki #request #platonic #gender neutral reader #comfort #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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pengychan · 3 years

Text

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 22

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: a chapter entirely from Héctor’s POV because it was about time.

***

“You know, when you two become really famous - and trust me, you will - I think Ernesto is going to be every bodyguard’s worst nightmare.”

“Huh?” Héctor finishes gulping down nearly the entire water bottle he was handed as soon as he walked backstage and turns to look at Armando, who is looking out through a gap in the curtain with a chuckle.

“You know, mingling with the crowd like that, taking selfies with absolutely everyone.” Their manager vaguely gestures to the scene Héctor cannot see, but can definitely imagine. He can hear the laughter outside, clamoring, people calling out Ernesto’s name. More than a few are calling his own, too, and Héctor would lie if he said he wasn’t flattered… but he really needs some more water before he can even think of going anywhere without risk of collapsing.

He shrugs, tilting up the bottle so he can get the last few drops of water over his head. It was a pretty intense performance, and euphoria aside it’s left him feeling as though he walked a few miles in a desert. “Ah, he’s always done that. You know him by now, he loves an adoring crowd. He’s still getting used to success.”

“You two are on track to get far bigger crowds than this soon,” Armando laughs, letting go of the curtain. “He’d be out there all night taking selfies, then. And being an absolute security nightmare, as I said. But that will be the problem of whoever we hire for security, all things considered.”

Héctor laughs, drying off some sweat off the back of his neck with the towel a stagehand - Raúl, wasn’t it? He always feels bad when he can’t remember someone’s name - just handed him. “Ay, maybe by then he’ll be used to it and he’ll be content to keep away and let them fight each other for a chance to get a glimpse,” he says, and shrugs. “I can see him playing hard to get to. Want me to go out and tell him we need to head back?”

“Ah, no need. He’s heading back.” Armando mutters, and covers his mouth with the back of a hand before yawning. “I don’t know how you two do this. I am ready to collapse and I didn’t have to leap across the stage for two hours while singing and playing.”

“I’m more tired than I look, and I bet so is Ernesto. ” Héctor laughs, choosing not to mention how offended would be if he heard someone referring to his dancing as ‘leaping across the stage’.

“He doesn’t look tired at all.”

“Oh, he is, or else he wouldn’t be heading back. And after only twenty minutes in the crowd? Must be exhausted.” Héctor throws the empty bottle towards the bin, and grins when it gets right in - a perfect shot. “He’s just never going to show it if it kills him.”

***

“Ay, mi amigo, this concert killed me.”

“Por Dios, you really are getting old.”

“Chingate.”

“Is that a white hair I see?”

“There is no white hair.”

“Oh, and how can you be so su--”

“I check every morning and get rid of them.”

“Ah,” Héctor says, letting himself drop on his bed. They have each their separate room, actually - they have joked over not having to share one anymore is a tangible sign they are making more and more money - but they always had a tradition to have a toast together in their room after each performance, and neither is willing to put a stop to it.

This is going to be far from their first toast of the evening, and likely they’ll have more than one, so Héctor decides it would be wise to call home and say hi to Imelda and Coco before he is completely wasted. He pulls out his phone and calls while Ernesto is busy filling the glasses, smiling broadly, waiting for his wife’s face to pop up on the screen.

What does pop up on the screen is a big, toothless smile.

“Babababababa!” Coco exclaims, clearly her favorite thing to say. Héctor likes to think, with no small amount of optimism, that she is trying to say papá.

His smile becomes, if possible, even broader. “Coco! Mi vida! Where’s--” he trails off when a long, pink tongue suddenly appears on screen to slap her wetly across the face. Sometimes Héctor has to wonder if Dante is indeed a Xolo or if he happens to be crossed with something else entirely, like a chameleon or an anteater. There is no way that is a normal dog tongue.

Coco seems unconcerned, however, and reacts to the tongue slathering half her face in drool with gales of laughter. There is more laughter, and the camera turns away from the scene to show a still snickering Imelda. “She wanted to see her-- Dante, down now-- her papá, I figured you’d like-- I said down!-- to say hi.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for her to be up?” Ernesto speaks up, sitting next to Héctor with a full glass in each hand. Whatever he used to keep his hair in place is beginning to give up, his jacket is off and the first few buttons of the shirt are undone, but he still looks much more elegant than Héctor, who rather looks like he has walked out of a bad argument with security. Effortlessly handsome as always.

And Héctor is almost tipsy enough to say as much aloud.

On the screen, Imelda rolls her eyes while pushing back the hair that has escaped her bun with her free hand. Héctor can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same thing. “Héctor, call a priest. Someone’s got to chase my mother out of his body.”

As Héctor lets out a sound that is half a snort and half a laugh, Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. But when I sing a bit too loudly and wake her up, I am the bad guy.”

“You are after we spent two hours making her fall asleep,” Imelda points out.

To be entirely fair, Ernesto usually means well. Coco loves listening to her parents singing, and has fallen asleep to their voices almost every evening, but with Ernesto it is a different story. Not that she doesn’t love listening to him too - she does - but his voice seems to make her want to do anything but sleep. She gets excited, bouncing and flailing all limbs like she’s trying to dance before she can even sit up on her own.

Ernesto makes a face. In the background, Héctor can hear the sound of Coco’s ceaseless cooing, some yapping that is probably an argument among the chihuahuas, and a thumping sound that he assumes has got to be Dante’s tail hitting the floor at a fast pace.

“She’s not asleep now though, and it’s not my fault.”

“She has been fussy all evening, I couldn’t get her to sleep. As much as I would love to blame the tiny terrors you insist on calling dogs, I think she’s looking for you two.”

The thought of Coco looking for him is both adorable and somehow the most heart-breaking thing Héctor has ever heard, or so it feels at the moment. He is not tipsy enough to downright tell Ernesto he looks ridiculously handsome and open that can of worms they all keep ignoring is even there, but he is tipsy enough to tear up. “Ay, let me speak with her-- papá is going to be home soon, Coquito! I promise! I’ll make it up to you! Write a brand new song! And a present!”

“Por Dios, Héctor, you have been away three days…”

“It feels like such a long time!” Héctor protests.

“Babababababa!” Coco declares on the other side of the line.

“Heard that? She agrees! Imelda, let her see me again…!”

She does, and there are a few minutes of cooing back and forth. Ernesto doesn’t join the cooing, but he does smile and even wave at Coco when he forgets to feign annoyance. Eventually Imelda laughs, declares it enough, and lifts the phone to look into the camera again. “How did the concert go?”

Héctor is happy to let Ernesto do the talking there, let him gloat about how big everything was, how dazzling, how successful, how wild the crowd went. It’s nice seeing him so excited: occasions like this are when he’s at his happiest. It actually takes him some effort not to stare at him as he talks… and he notices, with a glance at the screen, that Imelda is indeed staring at him with a soft look Héctor knows well. Ernesto doesn’t seem to notice, too taken describing the applause they got; Héctor feels something much like a lump forming in his throat for a moment.

Last time they had a video call with Imelda while away for a concert this long, they did a lot more than talk. They put up a really good show for her, really.

Héctor makes a very conscious effort not to think about that, and downs the glass Ernesto filled for him with a gulp. It helps, and it also gives him an excuse to get up and move a few steps away to the liquor cabinet. He’s refilling the glass when Ernesto bids Imelda goodnight and holds out the phone for him to take. He smiles at her.

“Mi amor! Would you like me to sing for Coco? As a last resort?”

“Ah, that may help. I can’t seem to be able to make her settle…”

“I can sing,” Ernesto offers.

“Don’t,” both Héctor and Imelda say immediately, and Ernesto throws up his hands, leaning back against the wall.

“Ay, my art is not understood here,” he mutters, and downs his own glass, entirely forgetting about the toast they had been planning. He doesn’t protest further, however, and just leans back, listening as Héctor sings at Coco through the phone. To Héctor’s immense pride, Coco does finally settle down to sleep.

“You should write this one down,” Ernesto muttered after they have bid Imelda goodnight and the call has ended. He’s filling the glass again, and he empties it in one gulp. “Would be a success.”

“Ah, that’s just a lullaby I came up with for her.” Héctor sits with his own glass, and drinks about half of it. “I don’t think it suits our style, anyway.”

“We can liven it up a little.”

“I’d rather not. I haven’t finalized it yet, but it’s… I don’t think I’d want to share that with crowds. Which, if Armando is to be believed, will keep getting bigger and bigger.”

Ernesto lets out a laugh that almost sounds like braying. He is getting drunk all right. “Hah! Of course we will. To success!” he adds, lifting the glass before bringing it to his mouth without apparently realizing it’s empty. The look of pure disappointment on his face is enough to make Héctor burst laughing, sitting down heavily beside him and leaning against his side. Ernesto scoffs. “Hey, stop that--”

There is some squabbling, a glass falls thankfully without shattering, hands are slapped away and hair is ruffled. By the end of it they’re both snickering and laying against each other, like they had the first time they got drunk on a bottle they had stolen from Ernesto’s father’s stash and drank in secret in old Rafael’s orchard as kids. Well, as a kid and a young teenager respectively. Ay, Ernesto was always such a bad example. He should tell him that. Actually, he will.

“You know,” Héctor mutters, turning. “You were always such a bad exa--” he trails off, realizing belatedly that Ernesto is looking at him, no longer smiling but wistful, in a way only someone with all walls down can. Their faces are close, and Héctor’s smile fades. They stare at each other and something aches, the sense of absence he has been trying to ignore.

He is happy with the life he has, but sometimes he... and Imelda, he’s sure, they just lay there and try to ignore the empty space beside them in the bed. If he only leans in… if he just--

“I think I should go lay down in my room,” Ernesto says abruptly, and stands just as suddenly, almost toppling back as a result. His skin is flushed, and his eyes are darting across the room, never pausing on Héctor. “It’s-- late. Yes. Late. We have the plane early tomorrow.”

It doesn’t depart until midday.

“... You know you can stay here. If you’re too drunk to make it back to your room,” he adds quickly with an unconvincing smile, as though that can in any way hide what he truly means.

We could. If we want. If you want.

“I…” Ernesto hesitates, his gaze finally resting on Héctor. A look of painful yearning crosses his face for a moment before he turns away. “Had a glass too many, but I can make it to my room. I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbles, and makes for the door, as quickly as his unsteady feet can get him.

“Ernesto,” Héctor calls out, heart beating somewhere in his throat. He stops at the door, back rigid, and doesn’t turn when Héctor speaks again. “I meant it. If… if you want--”

“This isn’t about me,” Ernesto cuts him off, his voice unsteady as his gait. Something sinks in Héctor’s chest just as his best friend mutters a ‘good night’ and yanks the door open, quickly stepping out. The clack as it shuts again seems to reverberate in the room. What he means, what they both know, hangs unspoken and heavy in the room long after he’s stumbled out of the door, leaving Héctor alone with an empty glass, an empty gaze, and empty bed.

It wouldn’t be the same. For either of us.

As he lays in the middle of a king-sized bed, empty spots at either side of him, Héctor finds himself unable to sleep. He wonders how Ernesto bears it, trying to sleep every night with that emptiness around him. Héctor will soon be home, and one spot by his side will be filled again - but the other one will remain empty, a gap he and Imelda have been trying to ignore for far too long. How much longer?, Héctor has asked himself more than once, and he finds he has the answer now.

No longer.

***

When Imelda picked Ceci as Coco’s godmother, Héctor had a few concerns.

Not that he didn’t think she would be happy to be asked - she was - or that he doubted she would take the role very seriously - she did - but he mostly wondered how she would get along with Ernesto when it came to organizing… everything that godparents are meant to organize together. As it turns out, the answer is ‘not very well’.

“Can you hurry up and take the measurements already? She’s drooling all over my hand!”

“I’m trying, but as you are unable to keep her still--”

“Why don’t you try to keep a baby still?”

“Because then I’d have to leave the measurements to you and you’d make a mess out of it.”

“Gagagagagagaga!”

“See, she agrees with me.”

By his side, an ear to the door and a hand over her mouth, Imelda is trying with all her might to stifle the giggles that shake her frame. Héctor bites back a laugh himself, takes a mental note to tell Imelda picking Ceci was a great idea, and keeps listening.

“She’s not agreeing with-- ugh. This is stupid. Can’t we just buy her the ropón like any normal godparents?”

Ceci gasps as though she just heard him suggest they should throw her in the baptism water naked as the day she came out of the womb, and possibly leave her to drown.

“There is no way my goddaughter is going to wear a store-bought ropón. I will make her one. All you need to do is keep her still now, and buy her a decent gold medal. Not silver, you cheapskate. Gold.”

“Me, a cheapskate!” Ernesto couldn’t sound more insulted if she accused him of stealing candy from children. Which he has done on a couple of occasions, Héctor recalls. “For your information, now that my career is well on the way I spare no expenses.” Well, some expenses, but they are getting more money than ever before now and there will be more in the future, Armando tells them. “I think silver is more elegant, is all.”

“What does a baby care about elegance?”

“I don’t know, why does the crazy seamstress need to make her a ropón from scratch?”

“Bababababa!”

“See, now she’s agreeing with me!”

Ceci’s response is a barrage of expletives that have absolutely no business being uttered in the presence of anybody below the age of twenty-one, and Imelda would normally throw the door open to make her displeasure known... but Ceci could always get away with more than most. That, and Imelda is too busy snickering in her hand.

Ah well. It’s not like Coco is old enough to learn the words she’s hearing now, after all.

“Are you sure they won��t kill each other during the ceremony?” Héctor sniggers, and Imelda grins back.

“They know that if they try I’ll bring them back and kill them again.”

“Heh, true. Guess it’s a good thing Ernesto is fine with coming to Santa Cecilia now,” Héctor says. Not that it has kept him awake at night, but he and Imelda had always known they would want their children to be christened in their old parish in Santa Cecilia, more out of tradition than anything else… and the godfather being allergic to the entire town may have made things tense. “Still can’t believe old Estéban actually went dry.”

“I guess people change,” Imelda mutters, but the smile on her face is different - more muted, somewhat melancholy as she keeps looking at the door behind which Ernesto and Ceci are still squabbling over Coco’s delighted squeals. She doesn’t need to say anything more for Héctor to guess exactly what she’s thinking.

He did, too.

This is not about me, he said, and he meant it. The man he was before, the man Imelda rightfully argued would never be able to put Coco’s needs or indeed anyone else’s wishes before his own, would have never uttered those words.

“... Yes. They do change,” he finds himself saying, very quietly.

There is silence and there it is, the thing that has been hanging between them for a good while now and which neither has spoken of. There are probably better moments to finally talk about it than now, with the man in question in the next room over squabbling with his co-godparent, but Héctor knows that they have waited long enough.

“I’ll make some coffee,” is all Imelda says, and he follows her to the kitchen. There is a brief silence while she prepares the coffee machine, and then she breaks it. “So… nothing happened these past three nights?”

“No, nothing,” Héctor says quietly, sitting at the table. Not out of lack of want or opportunity it just-- did not. Much like Ernesto hasn’t been seeing anyone else, and entirely ignored a dancer’s honestly rather clumsy attempt at flirting the previous week. Not for lack of opportunity, but he just… did not.

“You know I do not mind,” Imelda says, her voice still very quiet. “Surely he still wants you. And you do want him. I mean--”

“You do too,” Héctor replies, and reaches over to take her hand, pulling her gently towards him. She looks down, and their gazes meet. “And it seems-- unfair. Without you.”

“Unfair?”

“It is not the same. It was one thing when we were all in it together, without you it would feel...” he tries to find an appropriate word, fails - congratulations, songwriter - and sighs. “Not the same thing. I’d rather keep the memory of what we had rather than risk ruining it by forcing some kind of imitation. And I think he feels the same. When I had a moment and tried to suggest we… he was the one who stepped out.”

She smiles faintly, stroking back his hair. “So I am included in the package, then?”

A chuckle, and he wraps his arms around her torso before craning his neck to keep looking up, chin resting over her chest. “You created the package, Imelda.”

“I recall. Not how I expected the evening to go. I only wanted to shut his mouth.”

“I mean, I also did that.”

“True.” She is quiet a few moments, her fingers running through his locks. “... You know why I felt-- it needed to end.”

“I know.”

“The priority must be Coco now, and I thought - I knew - that Ernesto would not have been able to accept that. Take the backseat when needed to make sure her upbringing is as normal as it can possibly be.”

“... I keep picking up a past tense.”

Imelda’s hand pauses in his hair. She looks at him in the eye, her gaze soft. Thoughtful. “He did change. I think he will make a fine godfather.”

“Are you considering…?”

“I am. If he’s willing to give another try. And if you are.”

“... Yes. But we are all in this or no one is, so it is your decision. I know there may be challenges if, well... people finding out, or when Coco asks for an explanation growing up, or-- if anyone mocks her for it, I don’t know what I would--”

“We don’t need to scream it from the rooftops,” Imelda says, and resumes stroking his hair. “It is no one’s business but our own. Neither should we go out of our way to hide. We’re doing nothing wrong.”

Héctor holds her a little tighter. “I know. But if you still feel it is best for Coco, both Ernesto and I understand.”

“It is Coco I am thinking about.” She cuts him off, and sighs. “Well-- her as well. I have been wondering, should she somehow find out either way what there has been between the three of us - I know it’s near impossible unless we tell her, but just imagine - what would we be teaching her?” The hand in Héctor’s hair pauses, and she looks down at him. “That no matter if she’s doing nothing wrong and hurting no one, she should take the path of least resistance and do what she’s told is proper? Forego her own happiness because people who don’t understand it may disapprove?”

Ah. That is… not something Héctor thought about. He slowly pulls away, and grabs both of Imelda’s hands. “I’m sure that won’t happen. She’ll be as brave as her mamá.”

“Then it’s time for her mamá to be brave.”

“Ay, mi amor--”

“Uh, apologies for interrupting, but I think your coffee is spilling over the stove.”

“Gah!” Héctor jumps back and almost falls off the chair when Ceci’s voice rings out. Imelda blinks, and turns to look at the doorway. Ceci is there, her measuring tape and notepad in hand, one eyebrow raised. Héctor stands, giving her a smile entirely too wide.

“Ceci,” he says quickly. “Whatever you heard, it was, uh. Not what it. Sounded like.”

Ceci’s left eyebrow joined the left one almost up to her hairline. Imelda sighs and places her hand on Héctor’s shoulder.

“Turn off the strove,” she says before turning to Ceci. “... How much have you heard?”

“Enough to hurt my brain, to be entirely sincere. Not out of bigotry, mind you, but... him of all people? Unless I understood it all wrong. Please tell me I understood it all wrong.”

Imelda’s lips curl in a faint smile, and some of the tenseness in her back disappears. When she speaks, she denies nothing. “No accounting for taste, I suppose. I would be grateful if you could keep what you heard private.”

“Of course I am not going to go around telling, who do you take me for?”

“A bruja?” Ernesto’s voice carries over from the next room, causing Héctor to wince and, of course, spill hot coffee on his hand. Ay, maybe having that conversation with Ernesto and Ceci a couple of doors away was every bit the lousy idea he thought it may be. To his relief, as Ernesto walks in with Coco in the crook of his arm, it becomes obvious he only heard the last few words and has no idea of what the concersaton is even about.

Héctor silently thanks God for the fact they won’t have to talk things through in front of Ceci just as Ernesto pauses on the doorway and blinks, realizing all eyes are on him.

“Is-- something on my face?” he asks, taken aback. In his arms, Coco squirms and coos, holding out her arms to Imelda. She immediately goes to pick her up, her face just a little reddened, and Ceci clears her throat.

“Well, I think it is about time I am off. I'll send you progress photos of the ropón," she says quickly, and is out of the room and towards the door as fast as her legs can carry her.

Ernesto blinks again, watching her retreating back until she’s gone. “What crawled up her--”

“Not in front of Coco!” Héctor almost screeches, his own face dark red, and Ernesto trails off.

“Right-- what’s gotten into her?” he asks, and looks back at them. “... Actually, what’s gotten in all of you just now?”

Héctor works his jaw, and glances over at Imelda. She looks back at him, bouncing Coco in her arms for a few moments, and finally turns back to Ernesto.

“... Would you like to stay for lunch?” she asks.

He does.

***

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#pixar coco #hector rivera #imelda rivera #ernesto de la cruz #coco #mind the gap

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redsector-a · 3 years

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AO3 Ask Game

I was tagged by @themarshalstale which, thank you so much! I feel like I always get missed on these (I know why, it’s been 84 years since I published anything but still). 1. How many works do you have on ao3?

46 it seems. Which...look I’m slow man so that’s not surprising. lol Also crippling depression does not make for much production, at least for me.

2. What’s your current AO3 wordcount?

309662 according to the stats.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So do I could only AO3 or in like life? lol I suppose it should only be on AO3 since this is an AO3 ask game. Hrm. Basically AO3 can be summed up as: Marvel (in several iterations - all Avengers related) Torchwood Highlander But isn’t it more fun to consider my entire fandom life, which, I’m sorry, I’m old so...yeah. Not all of this is was published and beyond that a lot is not available anymore...which is likely for the best. Highlander Star Wars Babylon 5 Ronin Warriors/Samurai Troopers Marvel (again, several iterations also of note Avengers and X-Men both count) Torchwood Star Trek LOTR Stargate (SG-1, SGA) Mortal Kombat I dabbled with the idea of Potter fic but never got past the ideas stage.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1: You rearrange me till I’m sane Clint finds himself spiraling into a deep depression after the Battle of New York...until the Winter Soldier ends up saving him and inadvertently giving him a new purpose – to save the man that the Soldier had once been – Bucky Barnes. Not one to be outdone, the Soldier decides that his new mission is to ensure that Clint remains alive himself. Protecting a blonde man with a self-destructive streak is somehow very familiar to him. Through the back and forth of who is saving whom they cross the country and learn more about themselves and each other – and perhaps find a reason for living. 2: Five Dates Bucky Didn’t Realize He Was on And the One He Planned Himself To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it.Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.

3: Puck Luck Bucky Barnes is used to the ups and downs of an NHL season. He's used to the unpredictability of the game, knows that bounces don't always go your way, but that doesn't make a broken hand in the final third of the season any easier to deal with. Especially not when he ends up with an impromptu roommate/personal assistant in the form of one Clint Barton - his agent, Natalia Romanova's (rather attractive) friend he hadn't known existed before his injury.

It's just for six to eight weeks - what could possibly happen in that span of time?

4: Loose Lips Launch Ships

Based on the following prompt: “We go to school together and I think you’re cute and apparently you’re also the pizza delivery guy and my little sibling opened the door screaming hey sibling! you know that kid you’re in love with? you really weren’t kidding when you said his jawline could cut steel holy shit-” Bucky is the pizza delivery guy. Clint's younger (foster) brother has a big mouth.

5: Indelible Bucky Barnes has a pretty decent life – a good job, good friends, a cat that adores him - but something is missing. He’s always found body art to be beautiful and inspiring, and on a whim (and with the hope that maybe he can find what he’s missing) he decides to take the plunge and get a tattoo. That's how he meets Clint Barton. Clint's talented and compassionate and there is an instant spark between the two of them. It's not long before Bucky finds himself wondering and wanting more from the relationship despite the ghosts of the past that crop back up. Because Clint makes him feel normal in a way he truly hasn't for years...

(this was pre-Alpine so I was totally chuffed when canon confirmed Bucky’s status as a crazy cat lady (affectionate).

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not.

I really really really want to do it but I often times don’t end up doing it. There are a few reasons. First, I am akwward AF and bad at interaction adn I feel like just saying thank you would be...not enough? Second - I often times tend to like...turtle (aka retreat into myself) when life gets Too Hard/Busy which happens a lot to me (sigh) and then I miss the vague window in my mind in which it would be okay to respond and then it’s even more weird. I do love and cherish all of them. Like there was one months ago that made me go “hmm...I didn’t think I was going to do a sequel to that fic (You rearrange me till I’m sane), timestamp glimpses sure but a sequel hadn’t come to mind” but then the comment made me think! So...who knows? lol Anyway, I literally have been rereading some in an effort to try and get myself going again. Know that if you have commented, I love you.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

At the moment? Probably: Look at you look at me Bucky's in love with Clint - problem is he's really not supposed to be. For Winterhawk Week 2019 - Forbidden Love (I really don’t want to give away the spin in the fic but...if you’re familiar with the Secret Avengers Vol 2 run circa 2013ish (aka when SHIELD initially ‘took control of the team’) that’s a bit of a hint as to the spin). Were it done, Torch Song would be up there. ;) Torch Song Clint is sent back in time, via an alien device, to 1938. While he tries to figure out how to get back home, he takes up singing and entertaining to make ends meet and does his best to not disrupt the timeline.Then he meets a 21 year old Bucky Barnes. --- A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, either where one party is oblivious to the existence of the other, where one party has moved on, or where a romantic affair has affected the relationship.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Does *wanting* to write crossovers count? lol I want, so badly, to do more crossovers and fusions (which...are kinda deeper versions of crossovers in a way). The only one I do have posted is a crossover between Highlander and Torchwood -

The Immortal Mr. Jones A series of vignettes (some long, some short) in the life of the newly immortal Ianto Jones. My most ambitions project that I have been working on since late 2011/early 2012 is a fusion of the Avengers with Stephen King’s the Stand. I will get that done at some point *shakes fist* The Stand, for those who don’t know it, is an epic 1000+ page novel about a flu epidemic (I know) that wipes out over 99% of the population and then two figures representing Good and Evil pull the survivors in two directions for a showdown. So basically it’s a non-powered modern AU set in that universe. It’s a passion and comfort project. lol

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. Well, minor bitching back when I was in a prior fandom because I tagged a pairing in a fic but it was pre-slash and not labeled as pre-slash. I got hate on...I think it was Torch Song? And I’ve gotten hate on tumblr re me and my fic in general as well. Fandom! *jazz hands* Oh! And I’ve also been hit by those reviewers within Winterhawk (among general Clint pairings actually) who like rate you on either number scales or the “meh” scale. Which isn’t hate exactly but...it’s passive aggressive bullshit because I can’t believe none of them realize at this point that the authors can see their bookmarks - you know?

9. Do you write smut?

Yes. Do I write it well? I have no idea. lol

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of. Well...there was, I think, one of those reposting sites that had a few fics on it but I don’t think it was being passed off as someone else’s? I can’t quite recall. It’s why I have a note on AO3 about reposting my work anyway.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not entirely, but sort of. Let me explain - I am part of a PBEM game; which for those unfamiliar since it’s a term that was most heavily in use 15-20 years ago, in which you basically do a round robin type writing thing but rather than everyone writing the same characters you write your own characters and you play off what other people have done. Another way of looking at it is it’s basically DnD without dice and written down rather than done out loud. You also don’t have to all be around at the same time. It’s a lot of fun and yes I have been in it for 20 years even though there aren’t many of us left but they are some of my dearest friends and fabulous writers. Wins all around. One of the other writers and I have actually toyed with the idea of doing a co-written fic actually, mostly because we work super well together and keep getting ideas for things but can’t really do them as rpgs since the pbem style isn’t used much anymore.

12. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Winterhawk probably. Though, let’s be real - Han & Leia are epic and amazing as are John & Delenn (from Babylon 5).

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Does wanting to expand The Black Stallion books as a wee child count? lol Not much of that was written save for world building ideas but there was a great oral tradition of telling stories to my friends. Otherwise...maybe a tie between Star Wars and Highlander. Star Wars was a love since I was super young but the writing bug didn’t hit me until around the same time Highlander was a thing as well.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? You rearrange me till I’m sane for sure. Though Torch Song, if it were finished, would be tied I imagine (I suck at picking favorites). Honorable mention to Puck Luck and Indelible. Tagging: I have seen this like a million times (okay 5) so I feel like everyone has been tagged already that I know. But...I guess... @vexbatch @crazycatt71 @heartonfirewrites and @disruptedvice sorry if anyone has been tagged before.

#icyredfics #writing #winterhawk #long post

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

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AAhh I really like 45 it pushed the story along while also being just hilarious and touching and it was just so good!! 46 was just pokemon battles...

OBEY ME! LESSON 45 DETAILED SUMMARY

At breakfast the most of the brothers crowd around MC and ask them how different appliances work, Asmo apologizes for them and then immediately asks MC something as well and well Belphie calls him out on it he says he hasn't been in the human world for a really long time and things have changed. Beel says that the human world progresses so fast that it makes him dizzy and Asmo says maybe it feels like that since the devildom doesn't progress. Lucifer tells MC to get ready to leave once they're done eating (still on the white couches is2g this pisses me off so much) and when MC asks him wtf he says oh yeah forgot you nearly died while Solomon told you about getting a sorcerer's license. MC's got a meeting with Solomon and Beel & Lucifer were asked to come along. Mammon & Asmo protest cause they can't tag along. Belphie says that Beel and Lucifer were probably chosen cause they'll at least appear as mature functioning adults.

They meet up with Solomon in front of the Sorcerer's Society HQ, which according to Solomon is filled with "Pompous Uptight Bureaucrats". It provides assistance to sorcerer's living in the human world and provides them with first a provisional license and then a full license that'll allow them to practice magic as they pls more or less. Lucifer's like; that's great and all but why the fuck are we here. And Solomon tells him that he'll understand when they get inside. Lucifer says that sounds exactly like something someone who was seconds away from causing problems would say and he tells MC to brace themself.

The backgrounds for both these lessons are really good! Right so when they walk in sorcerers start ooing and awing over Beel and Lucifer - they've never seen them irl before, one even wants their autographs. Apparently Solomon's apprentice taming the 7 rulers was believed to be an urban legend?????????? I dunno imagine going from being a normal human to becoming an urban legend amongst sorcerers? Lucifer thinks Solomon brought them along just to boost MC's reputation (ohhh the poor man). Solomon reveals that he isn't on good terms with the society (is it even a surprise?) and being his apprentice would just make things harder for MC and that he established the society with his previous apprentice long ago but they had a falling out and now that apprentice runs the society (is it sad that there's a huge possibility that the falling out could be food related?). Solomon says he brought the brothers as bodyguards for his cute apprentice/charming apprentice/favourite pupil (If he keeps talking like that whoever runs this place is gonna deck MC) since back in the Celestial Realm the two of the were known as "the two greatest champions and protectors of the CR". Beel gets pissed off cause he thinks this means Solomon is putting MC in danger and Solomon says 'lol that's definitely not who I'm putting in danger' and when Lucifer picks up on that and questions Solomon on it he goes 'man look at the time we really gotta go get MC registered WOW'. The dude at the reception uses his staff to etch a magic seal that's the society's crest on to the back of MC's hand (I really feel like you should tell someone beforehand that you're gonna give them what is basically a tattoo? Also cant wait for that butcher to see this and the rest of MC's harem and come to the conclusion that they're in a cult) which consists of 3 staves and 7 stars signifying the 3 Magis who are believed to have invented magical arts and the 7 virtues (is it bad that before i even started om i knew what the 7 sins were but only had a vague knowledge about the 7 virtues? I wouldn't have been able to name them all without this lesson :/ anyway they're humility, generosity, gratitude, patience, chastity, temperance and diligence. Something i really like is that the brothers have all displayed the virtues that directly oppose their sins on a semi regular to regular basis). To get their license apprentuces must earn the seven stars via passing 7 trials with the first of the trials being set and judged by their master. (ok so I assumed each test would focus on a brother and MC'd earn the star that opposes each brother's sin and would pass the test by learning and displaying the virtue of that star. But that isn't what happened here? If anything the test was there to teach Lucifer humility? Is that how it will go? will each test somehow focus on MC helping the brothers learn and display their opposing virtue even though all of them have already displayed this virtue to some extent? I mean I guess the main point of the tests were to show that MC could control the brothers so that makes sense? but even though this test did focus on making Lucifer let go of his pride, the test was about MC learning to control Beel's power and these two lessons are very much focused on Beel so was the star they earned actually temperance? Even though the test didn't have anything to do with that virtue? Ahh i have so many questions about how the stars are earned and neither lesson really clarify it and if anyone wants to come debate about this???)

ANYway Solomon uses a spell to bind Lucifer in place, which pisses Beel off, tho when MC stays calm and just observes what happens Solomon is pleased assessing a situation before taking action is important (Ive had this HC for a while now but solomon is definitely the kinda teacher who throws you into the deep end with just a cryptic warning and watches with a smile as you try to figure out how to not die, if you do something particularly amusing while struggling he'll give you another cryptic hint, occasionally he'll yell out praise with that smile of his even if it looks like you're actively drowning and dying and failing). They start to get an audience while Lucifer threatens Solomon and shifts into his demon form and goes also im still fucking pissed off about that lunch so/ Beel also shifts and threatens Solomon, tho lucifer tells him to stand down cause he wants to murder solomon on his own and that a mere binding spell won't hold him down, Solomon's like Jeez chill it's for MC's exam you fucknugget and Lucifer's like oh shit yeah but you know i'll actually kill you for this later and Solomon's like yeah that's cool and also imma use my powers to make you into the size of a barbie doll and lucifer's like what- MC then proceeds to lose their shit over a tiny blushing Lucifer. MC's test is to keep lucifer safe for 24 hours which would be fine if they you know didn't live with the other 5. which is actually what lucifer says when Beel says it'll be easy if they just stay at home cause home according to lucifer also contains his '5 greatest enemies'. MC's job is to protect Lucifer from them without using any commands on anyone other than beel, and the goal is for them to be able to fully command beel like they did with Asmo in S1 against Henry 1.0. Beel is not allowed to act on his own to protect lucifer and can only act on MC's commands. Beel agrees, Lucifer swears and Solomon asks MC about their confidence levels. MC can promise one of the three of them that they won't mess up. Solomon says he'll stay in the house with them so that he can judge and Lucifer's more or less like; you're having fun aren't you and solomon says Duh.

So they end up at the café where predictably Luke & Simeon end up screaming and laughing at a blushing pissed off mini Luci, Simeon tells him they physically cannot laugh cause of course big scary Lucifer is now in Simeon’s words ‘Teeny-Tiny” & how he’s so cute he wants to keep him in a jar as a pet (God I love this lesson). He says Michael would love to see this and when Lucifer yells at him he completely ignores him to poke his cheek (V Relatable). Luke also wants to join in on the fun but Lucifer is a little bitch to him and as retaliation for scaring their son MC pokes luci on the cheek too. Beel laments about wanting to poke luci on the cheek too and when Solomon tells the others to stop teasing lucifer, luci goes, EXCUSE ME WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE. Beel notes that luci now smells human. When luke asks about the smelling thing beel says that all 3 species? races? Smell different. Simeon marvels at how much humiliation PrideTM is willing to take cause he’s simping for MC. Luci tells them to shut tf up cause unless they come up with a plan to deal with his hell children they’re probably going to kill him the second he steps foot inside the house. Beel tells MC to use his powers. Luci says they should be able to draw out Beel’s powers like they did Asmo’s in S1. Solomon says since he gave them a power up in S1 simply saying the incantation won’t work this time around and they must first fully understand Beel and his nature to be able to do that. MC has a flashback to the Butcher and his relationship advice and then asks Beel what he thinks they should do to be able to better understand him (while I do think ideally this is the right choice, in context with the other two choices, to me, this is the ONLY choice cause the other two come off as slightly yandere on mc’s part). Beel chooses spending time together via sleepover. But obviously Luci will have to come along and Solomon invites himself along too cause he’s still the judge. Simeon’s sad about not being able to join in and luke is TOTALLY NOT JEALOUS OKAY!?!?

Outside the house Luci, Beel and MC all make pledges like they’re invading enemy territory; Lucifer: Swear you won’t let your guard down. Beel: Swear to protect Lucifer with your life. MC, 100% seriously: I Swear. Solomon: Are yall fucking serious??? These are your fucking brothers???? You practically raised them??? Lucifer: Have you ever actually met my brothers???? Beel: You legit think they won’t give up their lives just to fuck with lucifer for a day? When Solomon asks what lucifer ever did to make them hate him so much he says he doesn’t know. And look while “locking me up in the fucking attic for a whole year”, “not acknowledging that you’re actually my father and taking some fucking responsibility” and “blaming every minor inconvenience in your life on my very existence” are all very valid reasons none of them actually hate him right, cause I mean using every chance you get to fuck with your siblings is just part of being a sibling? Which is what Beel and MC both tell Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t believe them and actually seems sad about it. Solomon said “while I do find the complicated interpersonal dynamics of your family fascinating” my ass is freezing out here. …Do you think they’re like solomon’s favourite show??? I mean Solomon’s old as shit and probably doesn’t remember what it’s like to have a family, and before MC, Simeon and the student exchange he didn’t really have anybody so do you think he just watches the brothers + MC like ‘damn, this shit is wild’????????????????? The instant they enter the house, someone casts a spell and they’re pulled into a portal. The fuck did you say about everyone loving Lucifer, says Solomon while making direct eye contact with Beel. They fall through endless darkness and MC tells them to chill cause it only feels like they’re falling. They end up in a weird ballroom/royal courtroom kinda place, which Solomon marvels. Beel & MC recognize the place as a location from one of levi’s games and meet Levi in his TSL clothes who welcomes MC as the ‘hero’.

Beel, Luci & Sol kinda just wordlessly stare at levi with tired expressions and MC being the bro they are plays along with levi by asking if he is who they think he is. He introduces himself as The Lord of Shadows, the ruler of all 7 lands. Lucifer: WTF. Beel says they don’t have time for games and Levi gets upset that they’re making him look pathetic. Levi gives MC their mission – to save the world by defeating the demon lord satan. Lucifer tells Solomon to get the fuck out of there. Solomon says he can’t considering he has no idea where the fuck they are in the first place. Beel politely asks ‘his majesty’ the way to pantry and Levi yells at them to take it seriously. Beel says well ok and explains the whole test thing to levi as a way to explain why they can’t play. Levi says satan already knows this. After that there’s a flash and black smoke starts curling up around the room and satan turns up in his demon form. And LOOK I hate satan’s demon form outfit but it actually looks really good in this context??? The feather boa and ribbon bow thing really works with the curling black smoke, evil demon lord look. It probably helps that you can’t see his bottom half. Anyway Satan turns out to just be a magical projection and he says, well you’ll have to come to me cause I kidnapped your boyfriend, while Diavolo calls out to Lucifer and MC from off screen. Diavolo had run away from the devildom to surprise the brothers. While Lucifer scolds Diavolo and while Diavolo apologizes, Satan tells they must all come to him along with the “obnoxious talking doll”. Lucifer: the fuck did you just say. Ok this part is really cute; Satan: “I’ll be seeing you MC.” Diavolo, still off screen: Can’t wait to see you MC! Luicfer has a migraine. When Beel tries to say they should head off, Levi tells them they forgot something in RPGs. MC, still dutifully in character, asks the lord of shadows to give them aid. Levi gives them 100 grimm and just anekfnsndfjn the fuck can they do with just 100 grimm. Which is what both Beel and Luci say. Solomon says, well maybe they’re just fucking poor around here so everything here is cheap. Levi gives them a talisman to protect themselves with, Lucifer says cool, but once this is over I’m gonna beat your ass :) Levi says he just bought a new game that lets you create your own story and he just wanted to play it with them :(

So they end up in a cute lil’ game village & beel wants to go to a tavern but lucifer says they need to buy equipment first. If MC asks a NPC they just repeat the same line about how great life is under levi’s rule over and over again, if they search in the grass they find some medicinal herbs but beel immediately eats them, if they break a barrel Solomon starts breaking open barrels too and they get yelled at by lucifer. They end up in No. 2’s armoury. Lucifer’s fed up with life. Solomon says the gear looks like shit and Beel says it makes sense since this is only the first town. When Beel tries to ask 2 for food he repeats his introductory dialogue over and over again. With the money they have they’re able to buy gear for Solomon and MC and the only thing that fits Lucifer is the fairy outfit,,,, I’m NOT fucking wearing that says lucifer off screen and God I love this lesson. Solomon and MC are both little shits and can you just imagine them trying to convince lucifer to wear it just to test it out? Fucking amazing. MC tries to haggle/talk with 2 so they could get armour for beel but he says buddy I’m running a business here BUT there’s a monster in the casino that cheats ppl of their mone– Lucifer & Beel simultaneously: Oh, Mammon. So basically, if they can get 2’s money back he’ll offer them a huge discount on the lord of flies armour. They decide to find an inn for the night before they face Mammon.

Lucifer finds it hard to eat food. Solomon: Cause you’re tiny ^.^ Beel: Wonder whose fault that is :I MC can either offer to cut it for him (He thanks MC and tells them to feed him too. Entitled Fuck. Solomon & Beel also want to be fed but Lucifer tells them to fuck off) or tell him to just open wide and take a bite (Lucifer says if he gets too close to the food Beel would probably accidentally eat him). Beel says the food is a lot like devildom food and MC asks him if he likes devildom food or human food, Beel says all food is good. Since they don’t have much money MC & beel and Solomon & Lucifer end up sharing beds with Lucifer telling Solomon to use a spell to keep himself still during the night to avoid accidentally killing lucifer in his sleep. There isn’t a spell for that. At night, Beel asks lucifer if he thinks Satan still hates him and gets “…” in response. Assuming Lucifer is asleep he asks MC what they think. MC says they think Satan just can’t admit that he likes Lucifer. Beel says if that’s what they think then it’s okay cause he just wants Satan to love lucifer like the rest of them do. MC asks Beel if he’s worried about lucifer (Beel says Lucifer wouldn’t want him to worry but… and that he wants to be there when lucifer needs help) or says that Beel really loves Lucifer (Beel happily agrees that he does). Beel then tells MC about how he and Lucifer first met: So back when Beel was an angel, according to him the only thing good about him was that he was strong so he decided to become a soldier except he couldn’t control his strength and always ended up breaking things which led to Raphael always saying something sarcastic to him. The whole thing was depressing for him until one day lucifer came over, sat beside him and talked with him. Lucifer was always really busy and spent most of his days deep inside the palace (places where Beel has never even been to before). He told beel that a soldier was not about attacking but instead about protecting, that protecting was what was most important. He’d told beel that he was special cause he had the power to protect everyone and keep them safe (this shit is the sweetest and it has me sobbing but also that must have hit like a bullet when Lilith died…). Lucifer had told Beel if he learnt to control his powers then Lucifer would recommend him as a Cherubim, gatekeeper. Lucifer had given Beel confidence and his post as a gatekeeper. Which is why Beel wants to protect him, cause he loves and respects Lucifer. He says all his brothers love Lucifer cause if they didn’t they never would have considered leaving the celestial realm. He says that even though Satan’s situation is different he isn’t the same as he was before MC came around and that Beel likes the new satan better. And that he actually likes all his brothers more since MC came around, which is why he likes MC so much too. MC gets to either kiss, hug or thank him. Beel says his powers are there so that he can protect both Lucifer and MC. And FUCK I love this backstory so much????? And I desperately need all the other backstories?

#obey me spoilers #my posts #my theories #obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me!

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

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Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Two

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Two

They didn’t talk more about it later. Jace barely saw Simon at all over the following couple weeks, in fact. It’s not that he was intentionally avoiding Simon, but they both had final exams to study for, and Simon was wrapped up in guitar ensemble rehearsals for the winter concert on top of that. If Jace had spent a little more of his study time in the library than was strictly necessary and that just happened to prevent any further discussions of dispays of physical affection and practice dates, that was entirely beside the point.

What Jace hadn’t counted on was how unprepared he’d feel pulling up outside the Queen Anne style townhouse he’d called home for most of his childhood. He suddenly wished he’d let Simon talk him into driving together and using the drive as a last minute planning session, even if it meant they’d need to coordinate their trip back to Boston. As much as he’d been avoiding talking about their plan, it really only occurred to Jace on the drive how much he wished they actually had, you know, a plan.

“Wow,” Simon said, hopping out of the hand-painted van he’d parked right behind Jace’s car. “Is that an actual turret?”

“Yup, gotta love those late 19th century architectural fads,” Jace answered as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. “The house belonged to Maryse’s grandparents, and I’ve never been able to tell how much she actually likes the style and how much is just childhood nostalgia, but she hasn’t even changed much of the interior except for renovations and repairs.”

“I have a hard time imagining growing up in a place like this,” Simon said as he joined Jace with his own suitcase in hand. “And it’s not like my mom’s house is tiny or anything, but this is just...” He waved a hand vaguely at the house. “A lot.”

He didn’t ask why Jace was sharing a tiny apartment furnished entirely secondhand if his family lived in a house like this, and Jace didn’t offer an explanation.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Jace said, even though there was plenty to be nervous about. “I promise the house doesn’t bite.”

“Yeah, less worried about the house than the people in it,” Simon told him.

“I thought you were, like, the parent whisperer,” Jace teased. “Isn’t that why you offered to come with me? Because you make a great boyfriend? Trust me, as long as Alec and Izzy think you make me happy, they’ll love you, and you know more about comics than anyone I’ve ever met, so Max will love you regardless.”

“Okay,” Simon said, releasing a heavy breath. “Okay, thanks. You’re right, I just got a little intimidated by the house, but this is all going to be fine.”

“Maryse is probably going to hate you, though,” Jace continued, keeping his face carefully deadpan. “She hates everyone we bring home. It’s like a rite of passage. But you’re great with parents, so I’m sure you’ll at least avoid intentional food poisoning.”

Simon stared at him in horror, and Jace couldn’t keep a hit of a smile from breaking through.

“I hate you,” Simon told him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jace said, “I’m pretty sure the food poisoning wasn’t actually intentional.”

“Wait, there was actual food poisoning?”

“Come on,” Jace said, heading toward the door. “I want to get inside before we freeze to death.”

“You are such a dick sometimes,” Simon muttered, catching up to him.

Then, he slipped his free hand into Jace’s like it was a totally normal thing to do, and Jace had to catch himself from tripping over the steps.

“Careful,” Simon said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to make a very good impression on your family if you fall and break your neck before we even get inside.”

And there was just nothing to say to that, to how uncomfortable it wasn’t to have Simon’s hand in his like this, to the way it made him want. So Jace simply rolled his eyes and pushed open the front door, letting the scent of home wrap around him like a warm blanket.

“Okay,” Simon said quietly as he surveyed the entryway, complete with antique chandelier. “Feeling a little intimidated again.” And it was so easy for Jace to just give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, you made it,” a warm voice greeted them. “With as bad as traffic has been, we thought you’d be another hour at least.”

“Hey, man,” Jace said, dropping Simon’s hand so he could pull his brother into a hug. “People must be staying home for the holidays this year, because we barely hit any traffic at all.” He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“Iz should be here any minute, Max is holed up in his room playing video games with his friends, and Magnus is helping Mom with some last-minute grocery shopping for dinner tomorrow.” Alec held out a hand to Simon. “I’m Alec, since Jace apparently can’t be bothered to make introductions like a civilized person.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, giving his hand a quick shake, “I gave up on the idea of Jace being civilized the first time I saw him eat pizza that had been sitting out on the counter for three days.”

“That was your pizza,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah,” Simon said, “which I was going to throw away because I forgot about it for three days.”

“On the subject of uncivilized,” Jace said, turning back to Alec, who was looking just a little too pleased, “you really sent Magnus shopping with Maryse? Buddy, if you decided you don’t want to marry the guy, just break it off with him. You don’t have to throw him to the wolves like that.”

Alec’s tiny smile became a little less tiny and a whole lot softer. “Magnus and Mom have actually been getting along lately. She wanted his opinion on wine pairings, so they went to the store and left me here so I can pull the bread out of the oven when it’s done. It’s very weird, but also nice.”

“That does sound very weird,” Jace told him, “but I’m glad things are working out and Maryse has found some level of chill somewhere.”

“Hopefully that means I won’t get poisoned,” Simon said.

Alec snorted. “If you want to avoid it, you should probably avoid mentioning you know about that. Or any other embarrassing family stories Jace might have shared with you.”

“And don’t eat anything Izzy hands you,” Jace added. “Anything she cooks probably won’t kill you, but the taste will make you wish you were dead.”

“So, I should just fast while I’m here,” Simon said. “Good to know.”

Jace led Simon upstairs to drop off their bags while Alec checked on the bread.

“Just toss your bag anywhere,” Jace said, opening the door to his old room. “We can argue over who gets which side of the dresser later.”

“Sure,” Simon said cheerfully, “as long as we can be civil deciding who gets which side of the bed.” He stopped just inside the doorway. “Wow, okay. The apparently very small bed.”

And this really was something that should have occurred to him, Jace realized. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered that he’d be sharing a bed with Simon. They’d even talked about it, briefly, and agreed it was no big deal. But Jace hadn’t considered exactly how much smaller his childhood bed was than the generous queen he slept in back home. It was technically large enough to fit two grown men, but only technically.

“Don’t worry,” Jace said, falling back on his trademark bravado, “I won’t get mad if you cuddle me in your sleep. I know you can’t help it if your subconscious recognizes that I’m irresistible.”

“I’m more worried about your freakishly sharp elbows,” Simon muttered.

“As long as you don’t snore or steal the covers, you won’t have to worry about my elbows,” Jace told him. He was planning to keep his elbows, and the rest of him, as far away from Simon as possible. Which, given the size of the bed, was maybe three inches.

“Dude, I do not snore,” Simon protested. “You know that; we live together.”

“You absolutely snore after your fourth drink.”

“I wasn’t planning to get drunk with your family,” Simon said, tossing his bag onto the bed.

“You say that now,” Jace said, leaving his own bag next to the door. “But wait until you get the full Lightwood Christmas experience before deciding you want to spend the whole thing sober.”

“If your family drives me to drink, you don’t get to blame me for snoring,” Simon countered. Which was probably fair, but Jace was saved from having to admit that by the sound of voices coming from downstairs.

“That’d be Izzy,” Jace said, “and we’d better get down there before she accuses me of trying to hide you from her.”

“Jace,” called a singsong voice, right on cue, “quit making out with your mystery hottie and get down here so we can actually meet him.”

“You should be careful making demands like that,” Jace called back. “What if I’m not wearing any pants?”

“We’ve all seen it. Get your ass down here “

“I like your sister already,” Simon told him.

“You say that now, but wait until she decides you count as family. She won’t be any better with you.” He took Simon’s hand. Because it helped sell their relationship. Because he could. Simon laced their fingers together, and Jace tried not to feel any way about that at all as he led Simon back down the stairs.

They only made it a couple steps before Simon came to a complete stop, almost causing Jace to trip the rest of the way down the staircase. He heard Simon mutter a soft ‘oh crap’ at the same time a bright, redheaded whirlwind came rushing up the stairs at them.

“Oh my god, Simon?” Clary grabbed Simon into a giant bearhug, effectively tearing his hand out of Jace’s. “You’re Jace’s mystery boyfriend? How did I not know about this? You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone, you jerk! What happened to best friend gossip privileges?”

Clary pulled back from the hug, and now that Jace could actually see her face, he could see the hint of concern she was trying to hide under her wide smile.

“Clary. Hi,” Simon said, eyes wide. “I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just, this is kind of new and so...” He trailed off, looking panicked. His eyes caught Jace’s. “But, uh, yeah. This is Jace. My boyfriend. Jace, this is my best friend, Clary Fray.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, looking between the two of them and feeling more than a little out of his depth. He’d planned for things to be weird, but not this weird. “We’ve met.” He flashed Clary a smile. “Fray, huh?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t keep his name. Not after...after everything. Fray is the name Mom used before she married Luke. It’s the name I remember her having when I was little, so.” She shrugged. “I filed the paperwork to have it legally changed the day I turned eighteen.”

“It suits you,” Jace told her, and let himself be pulled into a tight hug that he suspected was as much because she needed one as that she was glad to see him. Clary had never told him much about the biological father she barely knew, but she’d told him enough to know that Clary held him responsible for her mother’s death, even if the courts had cleared him of any wrongdoing.

“Thanks,” Clary whispered, before surreptitiously drying her eyes on his shoulder and pulling back to flash a smile that was less forced than Jace expected. “So, tell me how this happened without me hearing about it.” She bumped Jace with her shoulder. “And if it’s so new, what possessed you to subject Simon to your family holidays?”

“Hey,” Izzy said, walking up behind Clary and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Jace had to admit, they looked...well, right together. “That’s my family, too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Clary said, offering a soft grin over her shoulder. “And the fact that I’m here should tell you exactly how much I love you.”

“Fair,” Izzy said, then looked at Simon. “So, how’d my brother convince you to join this circus?”

“We made a trade,” Simon said, straight-faced. “I put up with his family for Christmas and he puts up with mine for my cousin Rachel’s wedding.” He leaned in and told Izzy in a stage whisper, “Also, I’m weak for his smile, but don’t tell him I said that, because he will abuse it.”

“You say that like I don’t already abuse it,” Jace said, sliding his arm around Simon’s waist in a mirror of Izzy and Clary’s pose. “And to answer your earlier question, us being officially together is new, but we’ve been sort of on the verge of dating for ages. Practically since we started sharing an apartment last year.”

Clary let out a peal of delighted laughter. “Oh, you’re the roommate. It makes sense now.” Before Jace could ask what made sense, she was pulling the both of them into a tight hug. “I’m really happy for both of you.”

“If I’d known you were going to be this excited, I definitely would have mentioned it sooner,” Simon said, pulling back from the hug.

Jace tried to catch his eye, wondering what on earth was going on. He knew both Clary and Simon well enough to know he was missing something, but he had no idea what it was. Simon ignored him, and that just made Jace more suspicious.

“Come on,” Izzy said. “You can have your hug fest later. Right now, I want to help Alec get things set up in the kitchen and maybe surprise Mom by getting dinner started before she gets back.”

Jace and Clary exchanged a panicked look, and Jace frantically searched his mind for excuses to keep Izzy busy. He didn’t actually want a repeat of the food poisoning episode, after all.

“Actually,” Simon said, turning a bright smile on Izzy. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to show me your Lego Star Wars collection before we get too wrapped up in family stuff. Jace mentioned you have the deluxe Imperial Star Destroyer set from the early 2000’s, and I’ve never actually seen one in person.”

“Oh,” Izzy said, looking torn. “I’m not sure—”

“We can help Alec in the kitchen,” Clary said quickly. “You two go do your nerd thing. I knew this was inevitable when I finally introduced you two anyway. And this way I get the chance to harass my bestie’s new boyfriend without him in the way trying to keep me from learning the embarrassing details.”

“You know, on second thought—” Simon began, looking slightly panicked.

“Come on,” Izzy interrupted, smiling brightly and grabbing his hand.

Simon flashed Clary a betrayed look, then looked to Jace for support. Jace simply smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, love muffin,” he said mildly. “I’d never intentionally embarrass you.”

“I want you to know that I hate both of you,” Simon said before allowing Izzy to drag him back up the stairs.

“My collection is all still in my old room,” Izzy said. “Clary and I have been looking for an apartment big enough I can actually move the rest of my stuff out of here, but so far we haven’t found anything in our price range.”

Jace turned back to Clary. “Exactly what kind of embarrassing stories were you hoping for? Because I have many.”

Clary shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got more embarrassing Simon stories than you do. I’ve got almost two decades worth. But I was actually hoping to talk to you alone anyway, and this seems like the best chance we’re going to get.”

Jace followed her down the stairs and into the study. “Sounds serious. You planning to give me a shovel talk?”

Clary laughed, shaking her head. “No, I know you, remember? I’m not worried about you hurting Simon. Well,” she amended, “not any more than I am about him hurting you.” She met his eyes with a soft smile. “You might be the only person I know with a heart as big as Simon’s, as much as you try to hide it.”

Jace looked away. It had been two years since the last time he’d seen her, and she could still see right to the heart of him. He didn’t want to know what she’d see if she kept looking. “Clary—”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she teased. “But I didn’t actually bring you out here to talk about Simon. I wanted to apologize.”

Jace frowned, looking back at her. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He was more than a little grateful not to have Clary grilling him about his entirely fabricated relationship, but he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I promised to keep in touch when you moved away, and I didn’t.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jace said, even if maybe it had been at first. Those first few months at school had been hard. Jace always thought he was used to being alone, especially after his mother’s suicide, but he found out just how much he’d come to rely on his new family when he didn’t see them every day. They’d kept in touch, of course, but with Izzy immersed in her studies and Alec all wrapped up in his new relationship with Magnus, it wasn’t anything like what it had been when they were all under one roof.

For a while, he and Clary had been in touch nearly every day, sometimes texting multiple times a day. Jace told her about his classes and how much he liked Boston, and Clary told him all about trying to narrow down which art schools she wanted to apply to. It was almost the same sort of easy friendship they’d had before he left, after they agreed they were better off as friends.

But after a couple months, Clary’s messages came less and less often, and eventually stopped altogether. Jace tried not to let it bother him, but he started drinking a bit too much and going to a few too many parties. Which was how he’d met Maia, his attempts at flirting somehow leading to him getting his ass handed to him at beer pong, and soon he found himself with an entire group of new friends. Although Maia insisted for almost a year that she and Jace were merely antagonistic acquaintances.

Clary gave him a look that told him she knew exactly how full of it he was. “It was a shitty thing to do, and I was a shitty friend,” she told him. “Especially because I did it on purpose. Izzy and I started getting close and I started to have feelings for her, and I didn’t know what to say to you about it. I didn’t know how to even talk to you about what was going on in my life without mentioning that she was becoming such a big part of it.”

“You didn’t actually have to hide it from me, you know,” Jace said. “I was surprised when Izzy first told me, but I’m mostly just glad you’re both happy. And seeing you together, I know you both are.”

“Thanks,” Clary said. “I didn’t want to hurt you or make things weird. For a while, I thought I could just ignore what I was feeling, but Iz is just... She’s not someone you can ignore, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly how hard my sister is to ignore, believe me.” Jace stopped, considered, then admitted something he had never said—would never say—to another person. But this was Clary, and he knew she would never repeat it. And even if she did, he could always play it off as part of the act. “She and Simon have that in common. You know, I actually thought I hated him at first? He’s so enthusiastic about everything, and so sincere, and just.” He shrugged. “Not the kind of person I thought would ever do it for me.”

“But he won you over with his boyish charm?” Clary guessed.

“Mm,” Jace agreed. And the way he loved without reserve. Not just his family and friends, but his music, his favorite films, even the crappy nachos from the 7-11 down the block from their apartment. Simon loved every part of life, and being around him, Jace could almost imagine what that felt like. “Well, that and his abs.”

“Can’t forget those,” Clary laughed.

“Not with how often he eats breakfast shirtless,” Jace agreed. “Come on. If we aren’t in the kitchen by the time Izzy gets back downstairs, you know she’ll try to help Alec herself, and I was kind of hoping for dinner to be edible.”

~~~

Dinner was surprisingly painless. Maryse was more relaxed and happy than Jace had ever seen her, and he couldn’t help wondering how much of that was related to the very unsubtle smiles she kept exchanging with Clary’s stepfather. Even Max, who was deep in throes of preteen scorn, grudgingly admitted that Simon being in a band was “pretty cool” and joined in on some of Simon, Clary, and Izzy’s excited nerd talk that went entirely over Jace’s head.

After dinner, they retired to the living room for eggnog and carols. Jace limited himself to a single cup of Magnus’s infamous eggnog, knowing better than to let himself get drunk when he was putting on a show for his family. Or sharing his tiny bed with Simon.

As usual, Jace let himself get pushed over the piano to play. He felt something in him settle as soon as he rested his fingers on the keys of Maryse’s baby grand, the feel different and so much more familiar than the ancient keyboard he had back in Boston or the well-used uprights in the practice rooms at school.

When Jace had first come to live with the Lightwoods, he’d been afraid to touch the piano. His mother had put him in lessons as soon as he was old enough, but she hated to listen to him play and often chastised him for not being a better player, saying he should be better at it with how talented his father was. Now, he understood that it was just another manifestation of the combined grief and mental illness that led to Celine’s death, but at the time he’d hated how awful he was at playing, no matter how much he enjoyed doing it.

But Maryse knew he played and encouraged him to use her piano. She told him that it had been her father’s, and though she’d taken lessons herself as a child, she’d never really loved it the way he had. She said that the instrument deserved to be loved, and as long as Jace loved playing it, she didn’t care how good he was or wasn’t.

It was the first time he’d really felt like this could be his home.

“Okay,” Jace said after the third version of O Tannenbaum with ridiculous altered lyrics—this one courtesy of Simon rather than Max or Clary, about an ill-fated toad who chose the wrong moment to cross the street, “I think my fingers are done for the night.”

“Oh, come on,” Clary said. “Simon and I have at least a dozen more of these we came up with when we were kids.”

“When we were little, I only knew the lyrics to the Christmas songs they played on the radio, so Fray made up silly lyrics to the other ones and told me they were real,” Simon explained. “And it made her so happy that I went along with it even for the couple I did know.”

“There will be plenty of time for more singing tomorrow,” Maryse said. “But if I know this one,” she continued, smiling at Max, “we’re all going to be dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for presents.”

“Mom,” Max whined, “I’m not a kid anymore. I know the presents will still be there whenever I get up.”

“I seem to remember someone who looked an awful lot like you waking us up before sunrise last year,” Magnus said with exaggerated confusion. “Perhaps you have a twin I haven’t met?”

Max fixed him with a withering look. “Last year, I was eleven. This year I’m twelve,” he said, as though that explained it.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve grown out of it,” Alec told him. “Because I intend to sleep in. And if you try to get me out of bed early, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

“Oh, no need for that, darling,” Magnus said cheerfully. “I’ll just barricade the door before we go to sleep so he can’t get to us.”

“Brilliant,” Alec said, giving Magnus a frankly sappy smile. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“And on that note,” Jace said, “I think I’m going to head to bed before I die of sweetness overdose.”

“Oh, please,” Magnus said, giving him an unimpressed look. “We all saw you and Simon making eyes at each other over those cookies you were frosting earlier.”

“It’s true,” Izzy said before Jace could protest. “You don’t get to tease Alec about being a sap anymore, not now that we’ve all actually seen you with someone you love.”

Jace froze, his mouth half open, then quickly snapped it shut. It made sense that Izzy would assume. He’d brought Simon home for Christmas, after all. That was the story they were selling even if they hadn’t actually discussed it, even if it wasn’t something Jace had said or even implied. And whatever he did feel for Simon, it certainly wasn’t love. It was, at best, a friendly crush. A very intense friendly crush.

Izzy seemed to realize her mistake, glancing between him and Simon with a look of dawning panic.

“No, you’re misunderstanding how this works,” Simon said easily, because of course Izzy’s words hadn’t sent him into a panic the way they had Jace. “Jace gets to tease Alec, and you, and you both get to tease him back.”

“Yep,” Clary agreed. “Those are the rules, because that means I still get to tease Simon.”

“Please,” Izzy said. “Clary and I are too sophisticated to be sappy.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you call Clary ‘cuddle bug’ earlier,” Alec said.

“And I definitely saw you laugh at that terrible joke she told at dinner,” Jace added.

“She ate one of the cookies you made,” Max accused.

“Yeah, sorry, cutie,” Clary said. “We’re really pretty sappy.”

“Fine,” Izzy huffed. “But I just think you’re all jealous because I’ve got the cutest girlfriend.”

“Yes, Izzy,” Alec said drily. “You’ve uncovered my secret. I’m extremely jealous of your girlfriend.”

“I knew it,” Izzy said smugly, as though Alec had been perfectly sincere.

“Definitely in danger of dying of sweetness overdose,” Jace said.

That set off another round of teasing, this time with Izzy throwing in not so subtle attempts to drag Maryse and Luke into it. Jace wasn’t sure why Izzy was so determined to make the two admit there was something between them. It was obvious there was just from the way they acted around each other. Maryse would tell them when she was ready, just like she had when she and Robert filed for divorce.

It was almost another hour before Jace finally made his way up the stairs toward his room. He was surprised when Simon rose to follow him, but didn’t say anything until they were back in his room.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay to nerd out with Clary and Iz some more.”

“I get to talk to Clary all the time,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’ll be easier to keep up the whole fake boyfriend thing if I don’t let her get me alone. She’d definitely figure out something’s up if I let her start grilling me about our relationship. Also, you don’t get to call me a nerd when you know just as much about Star Wars as I do.”

“It’s impossible to grow up with Izzy and not know way too much about Star Wars,” Jace said, pulling off his shirt and tossing it over a chair. “Are you still sure about doing this? Neither of us counted on Clary, and I’ll understand if you want to back out.”

“Huh?” Simon said, sounding distracted. Jace turned to look at him and thought he detected the faintest flush on Simon’s cheeks when he met his eyes. “I mean, yeah, no, I’m not backing out.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug as he pulled a set of pajamas out of his suitcase. “The last thing I want is to have to explain this whole thing to Clary.”

“Good point,” Jace agreed, turning around to put on his own pajama bottoms. It was tempting to watch Simon change, but it was also a very bad idea. “I don’t want to think about what she’d have to say to both of us if she knew.”

There was a beat of silence before Simon asked, “So, do you, um, have a preferred side of the bed?”

Jace turned to look at him, only a little disappointed to find Simon fully dressed in his pajamas. As usual when someone asked a question he didn’t want to think about, Jace flashed a smirk. “In a bed this small, I usually just take up the whole thing.”

“Well, unless you want me on top of you, you should pick a side,” Simon said, unimpressed. “Because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll take the left,” Jace said quickly, trying and mostly failing to avoid thinking about exactly how much he did want Simon on top of him. “I’m just gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”

Which was how Jace found himself locked in the tiny guest bathroom, lip caught between his teeth as he frantically tugged at his cock. He hadn’t planned on jerking off, but he couldn’t get Simon’s words out of his head, and he sure as hell wasn’t getting into bed with Simon half-hard, which was really the only other option.

He could picture it far too easily. Simon pressing him into that ridiculously tiny bed, hands gentle but firm, mouth just a little bit desperate.

He came to the thought of rutting up against those ridiculous abs.

By the time Jace cleaned himself up and returned to his room, Simon was nestled under the covers on the right side of the bed. Seeing him like that made something in Jace’s chest clench, and he flipped the light off just so he wouldn’t have to look anymore.

“‘Night,” Simon said as Jace slid into bed, taking care to stay entirely on his side.

“Don’t even think about snoring,” Jace answered.

He lay in the dark for a long time, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds of the city that didn’t quite drown out the soft breathing of the man beside him. He tried not to think about how easy and relaxed the night had been, how perfect it would have been if only half of it weren’t a lie.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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