Tumgik
#feel free to lmk and i'll keep it in mind for next time. thanks again so much for sending in asks!! i had a blast doing these!!!
starflungwaddledee · 3 months
Text
emoji interview character asks! [x]
part 2! by the time i've answered these i'll be closing this; thanks for everybody who sent them in!! i do think we've just about hit most of them now wow, i really appreciate the interest! for duplicate questions: what i'm going to do now if i get one that i've already done is pick the next closest one i haven't done! gonna try and 100% clear this list in true kirby fashion. all previous answers can be located here, and i'll highlight these duplicate switches in pink.
Tumblr media
@moonverc3x 🍓 [STRAWBERRY] How do they feel about 'cute' things? || cute is...... good right? people are often calling her cute and she thinks this is praise. so... good! she likes them! it's a positive adjective so she feels positively about it!! yes? is she right??! (i will say that if she could figure this out, she probably prefers 'pretty' things; sunsets and the sparkling ocean and a glittery fabric. that said i think she would adore hatched chicks and would sit in front of an egg for hours hoping to see one) 🍉 [WATERMELON] What will your OC take to the grave? || someone in particular. 🍌 [BANANA] Have parts of your OC been lost to time (in-universe)? What do they wish they could lose from themselves? || as an amnesiac this is par for the trope, of course. whatever may or may not have happened before she was found in the crater remains absent, despite her and everyone's best efforts. there might be a trigger that could help her get it back, but thus far nothing sane has worked. what she currently wishes she could lose is her weird magical signature, and perhaps even her non-standard appearance; though i think her friends have probably grown to like one or both of these, and might miss them if they were gone. (this would mean a lot to her to hear). 🏵️ [ROSETTE] What flower symbolises your OC best and why? What does the flower mean in floriography? || bouquet 1: amaranth, columbine (purple), indian jasmine. bouquet 2: pear blossom, flowering currant, bay leaf. the funniest one here is the flowering currant; "thy frown will kill me"; perfect for a pathetic little people pleaser 🌵 [CACTUS] How physically resilient is your OC? || startlingly, for a waddle dee! she hasn't been severely injured since her accident, but seems to bounce through things without a scrape most of the time. and while this hasn't been tested on dreamy peaceful popstar, land of plenty where she eats and breathes when she's told to, she can go a surprisingly long time without most necessities 🥛 [MILK] What is your OC's relationship with their biological parents like? What about their relationship with any non-biological parental figures? || this is an interesting one! in my headcanons waddle dees do not have any biological parents or biological family. so this isn't something she feels she's missing from her forgotten past. some dees certainly do form familial attachments by choice, but if she had a bond like this once upon a time, she doesn't remember. probably the concept of a parental figure would confuse her, so it's not something she's seeking or thinking about! she is more concerned with the fact that she doesn't appear to have had a single friend or acquaintance from her past, either.
Tumblr media
@trainerbob23 🍮 [CUSTARD] Expensive restaurants or cheap store-brand microwave meals? || any. all. food!!! she's picked this up from kirby, and she likes tasting things, even if it's bad. might take a sneaky bite out of the microwave plastic tray or the champagne flute at the restaurant, just to check. clear sparkly things just look so enticing! 🌱 > 🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on? || she is on the warp star or, even more ambitiously, the lor starcutter stopping NO WHERE because if they stop there's a chance she'll be kicked off. she would also accept being on the halberd; anything capable of flying or entering space is of great interest to her. a space cruise counts as a cruise, right? 🍧 > 🧁 [CUPCAKE] If you had to describe your OC using flavours, how would you (e.g., 'they're very sweet')? || i think i've described her as a strawberry marshmallow before. this is probably mostly based on colours. i think if you took a bite of her she would be very sweet, but she might taste more like a peach gummy 🎂 [BIRTHDAY CAKE] How does your OC celebrate their birthday? With who, and where? || she celebrated it here on tumblr and got many beautiful gift artworks actually!!! in universe, waddle dees celebrate a communal 'birthday', as many tend to be firstwoken on the same day, and a bigger event at the end of the season to celebrate all dees, new and old. she'd probably attend these if one of her friends took her, but it might take a while before someone (likely kirby) twigged that none of them know her actual birthday date. ultimately, they might celebrate the day she was found after her accident.
Tumblr media
@hyperz0ne 🧅 > 🍑 [PEACH] How do they show their kindness? How kind are they truly? || overbearingly. because she's been shown kindness, by king dedede, by kirby, by bandee, even (to the best of their ability) by the waddle dee doctors who treated her, she mimics this back and tries her hardest. she doesn't really understand being mean or rude, as it doesn't have any positive outcomes. she tends to show kindness with enthusiasm for your presence and verbal gratitude, and by being willing to help with/do anything you might need; it's easy to guess where she learned that
Tumblr media
@eliastheownerof0axolotls 🌺 [HIBISCUS] What does your OC think is the prettiest name? || she likes the names of constellations! especially when they are long and complicated with lots of letters; they always sound nice when meta knight says them! also, secretly: 'dedede'. would not stop saying this one when she first learned it because it was so fun to say. 🌷 > 🍭 [LOLLIPOP] Would your OC ever share food with someone? || core mechanic of the games 😂 but she much prefers to eat food with friends than alone, and loves to share meals and try lots of different tastes! she really likes going to eat with kirby because he doesn't judge her for thinking the gilded cutlery looks edible. the pair of them voted most likely to 'pocky game' a shish-kebab, skewer and all 🍧 > 🍆 [EGGPLANT] How are they used by others? How easily are they tricked into this? || uhhhhhhhh. thankfully on popstar everyone is pretty nice, for the most part. like i mentioned before she takes things at face value. if you ask her to do something (and she has not been explicitly told not to do it) there's a very high chance she'll just go along with anything you ask of or tell her. however obviously, you'll then have to deal with a really angry bandee and possibly the others, so it might not be worth the risk!!
Tumblr media
🥛 > 🥀 [WILTED ROSE] How good is your OC at meeting deadlines? What motivates them? || only if you make it transparently clear. she's very easily distracted and terrible at keeping time (note: the aforementioned hours spent in the clover patch or waiting for an egg to hatch) but if you tell her you are counting on her to do something and will be inconvenienced or worse, upset if she doesn't do it, it'll be done in three minutes or less 🍉 > 🌶️ [HOT PEPPER] Who would your OC declare their sworn enemy if they could meet them? || nobody!! she's friends with everybody!!!! she doesn't want any enemies!!! let's be friends!!! (extremely compelling parallel between this switched out emoji question, btw) 🏵️ > 🍪 [COOKIE] Does your OC prefer things simple or extravagant? || waddle dee sensibilities insist she prefers things simple if she wants to fit in. buuuuuut her first memories are of course of being under the personal care of king dedede in the royal castle, so she does like things a little luxe... 🍋 > 🌽 [CORN] How good are they at hiding and finding their way? || exceptional at the first, and terrible at the latter. actually terrible at the first too, forget that. 🧀 [CHEESE WEDGE] How often does your OC get into situations that rely on pure luck/miracles happening? || on popstar, planet of miracles? very rarely! she's not a trouble maker, and usually if bandee brings her along on any adventures they're the tamer ones. historically? exclusively. 💐 [BOUQUET] If you could send your OC a bouquet, what flowers would make it up and what is the overall message ||
Tumblr media
🌿 [HERB] Is your OC religious? What do they believe in? || actually extremely unsure about this one, and it would depend on if there were a religion she was expected to follow. she's rather a blank slate, so again, she'll believe just about anything; but i'd say she doesn't have any existing religious belief system. probably the closest thing to this that exists in my head for the waddle dees is devotion to the great king. 🌵 > 🍵 [GREEN TEA] What's your OC's preferred flavour of tea, if they even drink it? || camomile, mint, milky; she likes them all! mild preference for sweeter tastes than more bitter ones. would probably be a sucker for a thai iced tea with the condensed milk and any number of fancy toppings. i would not personally trust her with something like boba because i think she'd inhale the pearls by accident and start choking and cause a scene 🌸 [CHERRY BLOSSOM] Does your OC believe in legends/myths? || absolutely! fairy tales as well. sometimes she overhears fantastical tales about bandana waddle dee (connected to kirby or independently) and reports them excitedly to him, which he usually downplays-- even if they're real. sometimes she overhears fantastical tales about king dedede and reports them excitedly to him, which he always upsells-- even if they're false. so you can imagine she has something of an inflated opinion of dedede, though this is fairly standard for a wanya 💮 [WHITE FLOWER] Has your OC ever kissed someone? Who, when, and where? || platonic kisses are very common on popstar, especially as a segue to sharing/healing, so she's received quite a few. for what i think this question is asking, "has she experienced intimate or romantic affection" no, not yet... but she'd probably really enjoy it if anyone's offering 🥺👉👈 🎂 > 🍸 [COCKTAIL] When was the first time your OC had an alcoholic beverage? What did they think of it? (not a nearby switch at all!!! getting close to clearing the list...!) || as far as she knows, never. meta knight has banned her from anything stronger than quarter-strength coffee after That One Time.
Tumblr media
🍊 > 🥕 [CARROT] How tough is your OC against certain situations? How weak are they against others? || physical situations: stronger than expected. endurance and stamina: stronger than expected. emotional situations: the resilience of wet toilet paper 🍉 > 🍟 [CHIPS/FRIES] How much junk food/sometimes food does your OC eat? Has it affected their health? || no ill effects yet, and this thing's out here eating the drywall if you let her 🧅 > 🌰 [CHESTNUT] What food group does your OC mostly eat (e.g., grains, fruits)? || by circumstance it's raw fruits, steamed vegetable medleys, baked goods, and rices! these are the most common waddle dee quarter foods that she's able to pick up from the castle kitchens. and also packaged things like crackers, pastries, or dried snacks, which keep well in her room or pockets and which she can produce easily if someone tells her it's time to eat.
Tumblr media
🌳 [DECIDUOUS] What's your OC's favourite thing to do at the park? || hang out with friends, of course. if she's with friends and being asked to pick it depends on the companion's energy levels. quiet time activities: cloud or critter watching. mid-level activities: swinging, or walking the gardens and learning new things. high energy activities: games, except she's a little scared of hide and seek because she doesn't want to get separated or lost or forgotten 🥑 [AVOCADO] What will they never back down about, even if it makes them seem bad? || exclusively defence of her friends. with everything else, even defence of herself, she has the fortitude of a strawberry éclair. she wants to be good so bad. 🍔 [BURGER] What would your OC put on their burger? || after the pineapple on pizza question she's a bit scared to answer this. she'd put the Right Things on the burger!! only the right things and none of the wrong things. 🧀 > 🍹 [TROPICAL BEVERAGE] If your OC could go anywhere, where would it be? || nebulously, "to the stars". whatever that means. she wants to touch one. on popstar, she'd like to go to nutty noon! it's high up and also looks really soft. 🧇 [WAFFLE] Using shape language, how would you redesign your OC? || 🍑🎀🌟? not sure if i answered this right! 🍍 > 🍕 [PIZZA SLICE] How good is your OC at sharing? How do they share something if there's not enough supply? || super good!! if you want it and she has it, it's yours. with the exception of her friendships; i'd say it's probably the one thing she could be a little jealous over 🥤 > 🍒 [CHERRY] Who is your OC's perfect companion? || little orange guy, blue bandana. maybe you know him? he's pretty famous.
and that's the last one!! phew. we didn't quite get 100% clear, but we got close!! i'm adding this one on myself, because i think it's an important addition after all this talking about her bizzare eating habits:
🥞 [PANCAKES] What's the most your OC can eat in one sitting? At what point do they get sick? || despite her willingness to taste-test anything: from the crunchy leaf on the ground to the spicy curry, what this amounts to is a lack of pickiness. in terms of meal size, she actually isn't a big eater at all. in fact she'd generally prefer not to eat, if left to her own devices, and usually only eats when prompted or in a social setting. eating more than she can handle is a far more frequent cause of tummy aches that eating something that technically isn't supposed to be food
24 notes · View notes
lifewithcake · 2 years
Note
hi! i love your little healer tips or #healingwithcake. would you kindly share some more specifically for whms? thank you!
Yeah I'd be happy to! I'll give a breakdown of my Whm playstyle below. If you have more specific questions please feel free to ask. Bear with me, this won't be brief but it will be general :)
///
Oops this got sooooo long so I added sections for navigation:
A. General Tips
B. Dungeon healing
C. 8-man healing
Not sure what level you are so I tried to stay broad. If you're below 76, replace Rapture with Medica 2. If you're in ARR... lmk cuz the ARR Whm is very different lol
A. General Tips
Thanks to 6.1's changes to the Blood Lily, Whm is actively encouraged to use its lilies liberally. I even toss lilies out if I'm capped. You get three per minute and you rarely need more than two in a single minute. Use your Blood Lily before healing again!
ABC: Always Be Casting. When you're not healing, DPS! The majority of your time in a fight is spent DPSing.
Prioritize Lilies over Cure 2 and Medica 2. Lilies are on a veeery short 20s cooldown. I throw lilies at the tank whenever I feel like they need it, or I toss a lily at a DPS that ate a mech. Use Tetra to support this, as well. At worst, you need to switch to Cure 2/Medica 2 because people are eating a lot of mechs. When you get comfy with this, I even throw Rapture out when I'm capped just for the Blood Lily.
Use Lucid Dreaming as early as 7k MP. I use it anywhere from 50-75% MP and I keep it on cooldown. This will ease your MP burden by tons. I never have issues with Whm's MP unless you're rezzing a lot. (Thin Air is also a great for MP. Pop it before any of your MP heavy heals: Raise, Medica 2, Cure 2, etc.)
Get comfortable with your heal strength. You don't need to use Cure 1 or Medica 1 to keep the team topped off. Whm especially has many stronger options. Use the fewest heals to do the most. This pairs a lot with Tip #1. As you minimize your healing to maximize DPS, you'll start to see how little healers actually need to... heal.
B. Dungeon Healing
If you have issues with w2w's, mine kinda look like this:
Divine benison before tank runs -> Regen [tank is done pulling] -> Holy (Assize weave) -> Holy -> Holy
From there it depends how the tank is doing.
If their HP is dropping a lot still, I switch into focused healing. Might need Temperance here. I throw Asylum down and start popping Lilies/Cure 2 and weave a Tetra. When their HP feels more stable, back to Holy spam. Reapply regen as needed. You can also use Liturgy here as a beefy heal. Maybe you can rotate: Liturgy one pull and Benediction the next.
If the tank is rolling their mitigations well, you might get away with just reapplying Regen or dropping Asylum as you continue to spam Holy. Weave a Tetra as needed.
In both cases, know where your Benediction is and be ready to pop it. Sometimes it's an emergency tool, but try to get in the habit of it being a planned heal. Let the tank drop as low as you're comfortable to get more value.
C. 8-man Healing (and dungeon bosses)
In Normal content, my first resort for raidwides is Plenary + Rapture, then Rapture again if needed. I'm almost always using Rapture exclusively, but Medica 2 is my first backup in rough situations. (I've healed Aglaia without ever needing Medica 2!)
Asylum is a good supplement to Rapture, or is sometimes enough to heal alone! It has the heal strength of two Raptures, plus it has a healing boost. If you know you'll need Rapture, throw Asylum down first for the heal buff.
Temperance is a heal buff but it's also mitigation. If your team is doing well, I use it as mitigation and then top everyone off with Rapture. If your team is doing pretty poorly, I hold it for when things are going south. (Similar logic for Presence of Mind. Good/decent team? I use it for DPS. Bad team? Faster heals and raises.)
Liturgy is fantastic for any mechs with multiple hits, but in Normal content this is few and far between. At worst, use it before a raidwide and your party still gets a 1200 potency heal. That's normally full HP. (In Aglaia, use it during Boss 3's triple knockback triangle. It's magical ;)) Even if you didn't use it before a hit, use it anyways! Throw it down, pop it immediately, and you get a free 1000 heal. That's an instant Medica 2.
I like to use Assize on cooldown for its DPS/MP rather than healing. Your lilies are there!
Similarly, I'm not usually keeping Regen on the tank because I'd rather use a Lily or Tetra.
Watch for tankbusters and use Aquaveil and/or Divine Benison to help mitigate these. I also throw these on people with vuln stacks before a raidwide hit.
Thin Air + Raise are BFFs. Raise is so MP heavy, and Thin Air helps tons.
Benediction is not exclusively for emergencies, but it's great for them too. Just think of it a large heal, not necessarily a 1 to 100%. 40 to 100 is also very worth it. I often use it right after raising someone.
///
I hope this helped some. I blasted through a lot of skills very quickly, so if there's anything else I can help with, just lmk! This can be a lot to take in at first, but this will become very second nature to you with practice, and you'll become fantastic at split-second decision making.
0 notes
druigswhores · 3 years
Text
you’re alive in my head
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: in which natasha no longer had to live in a world without you, there you were in her arms once again. but why can’t she remember your life before westview?
content warning: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, set after endgame, angst, mentions of death, trauma, their relationship ending on a bad note, trust issues & previous steve x nat, there is some hints to homophobia in this chapter :/ (WANDAVISION SPOILERS!)
note: sorry this chapter was late!! it’s 3.3k words and i got my friend to spell check and edit it, ty ashy ily <33
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want anymore content like this!)
‘моя любовь’ = ‘my love’ in russian <3
‘принцесса’ = ‘princess’ (i used google translate so idk how accurate it is
SERIES MASTERLIST
PART THREE COMING SOON
Death.
It's a complicated thing; A theory.
Nobody knows what happens to you after you die. Nobody knows what happens to your soul after you die. We make things up to make ourselves feel better, and convince ourselves that our deceased loved ones are watching over us, all the while convincing others that our loved ones are in a better place now.
But in reality, those are just dreams dying to be true.
Natasha didn't know if you were dead or alive. She just knew your body turned into particles of dust, your soul disappeared along with the rest of you. She didn't want to believe that you were truly gone, so she spoke to you.
She spoke to you, thinking you were listening to her; believing you were listening to her and that you were still around.
It was almost as if she was speaking to your ghost, the mere presence of you that remained with her, the piece of you that was a part of her. It felt wrong being in the compound without you, she felt as though she was trapped; trapped with the many reminders of how she failed you. The walls were suffocating her. Every time she thought about what had happened it felt as though the rooms were becoming smaller. The large 'A' plastered around the compound taunting her, reminding her of what they lost. Of what she lost.
So she had to get away.
Natasha found herself taking trips to the beach, the one the two of you adored oh so much. She'd walk along the sand, the harsh wind blowing against her face. The air smelled of salt, and she'd take a deep breath in with a smile. She'd reminisce all the times the two of you managed to get away from the compound, how effortlessly gorgeous you'd look with the breeze blowing through your hair, your laughter sounding like a melody that Natasha now longed to hear once more.
If she stood really still, she could, once more, feel the warmth of your fingers dragging against her skin, gently tracing shapes onto her body. Her heart would ache whenever she'd turn to the side, finding that nobody was beside her.
She had to get used to living in a world without you.
"моя любовь..." She sighed, fumbling with a stone she'd picked up, before swinging her arm and throwing it into the rippling water. The temperature was dropping. Christmas coming closer and closer every day. Natasha wrapped her coat tighter around her body, staring at the waves in front of her, observing the way they'd hit the shore before pulling back into the ocean. In the distance, she could see boats, and although they were far away, she noticed how the water carried them; the movement of the ocean pushing the boat into the direction of the wind. "No sailors.." Natasha realized, her eyes following a lifeguard boat making its way to the empty boats, likely checking for any survivors.
Yet another reminder of how the Avengers had failed.
It's only been a couple of months since the battle yet the traces of you continued to fade away. The sweater that was once yours now clung to Natasha's body as she made her way back home.
She'd do anything to bring you back. She'd do anything to have you in her arms again, complaining about something you'd undoubtedly forget hours later. She missed the way you'd never share your snacks with anyone but her. The feeling of warmth that would blossom inside her when your eyes met in a crowded room. All the times when your knee would brush against hers during a meeting. She missed the way it felt to lay next to you. She missed forgetting the world with you.
God, she missed you so much.
But there she was. In the same room as you, years later, preparing breakfast. Her hair was coiled and pinned up, keeping it in place. Her dress fit her perfectly, the skirt swaying with her movements as she elegantly makes her way across the kitchen floor. Her every movement seemed like a performance; like she was the performer and you were the audience, watching her in awe. She was captivating in every possible way, her enchanting voice pulling you in like a siren.
"Good morning, honey! I've been up all morning making us a delightful breakfast." Natasha greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, her performance almost seeming comical. "Nat... it's just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." You pointed out, glancing over your shared kitchen, seeing the mess that was made. Somehow milk spilled all over the counters, dripping onto the ground, you immediately recognized the smell of burnt toast that hung in the air as you continued looking around.
"Peanut butter and jelly is your favourite, remember?" Natasha reminded you. Your eyes widened at the realization, thanking her. You helped her bring the food to the table, making a note to yourself to tidy up the kitchen before the dinner at Wanda and Vision's that the two of you were invited for.
But you couldn't recall Wanda telling you about the dinner?
"Are you okay, моя любовь?" She placed her hand above yours on the counter. The two of you sat in front of each other, your half-eaten breakfast resting between the two of you. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? I'm with my best girl." You smiled softly at her, and though your words said one thing, Natasha could easily recognise the distant look on your face as you stared off into space, lost in your own thoughts. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours принцесса?" She teased, squeezing your hand gently.
"What time are we supposed to be at Wanda's?" You asked her, snapping yourself out of the trance you were in. Natasha hesitated, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your every move. Something was bothering you. "We're going to Wanda's in the evening моя любовь, she asked us a while back if we could help out before the others arrived, remember?" Natasha stated as the two of you brought your plates to the sink, beginning to tidy up.
"I'm not sure how much help you'll be sweetheart." You teased, pointing at the mess that was created due to Natasha making breakfast. She feigned hurt in response, "Oh принцесса, you're breaking my heart!" She made her way around you, passing you the cutlery as you rinsed the plates. You chuckled softly at her playful behaviour. "I think we should stick with me making us breakfast so our kitchen doesn't end up getting flooded, wouldn't you agree?" You chuckled, as you made your way around the kitchen, the two of you tidying up the mess Natasha had created.
"If only we were a robot," Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around you from behind. You leaned back into her, embracing the warmth which radiated from her body, "or had powers." This was a position you were so very used to. "If only," she responded playfully. You turn your head back at the grinning redhead, as she leaned in for a kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt your lips meet.
"You know," Natasha started, "we do have some time to spare-" you then cut her off.
"I like the way you think, sweetheart," You smiled softly, turning in her arms before making your way to your shared bedroom. Natasha followed closely behind.
The two of you were dolled up, looking your best.
Your dress ended just below your knees, the skirt extenuating your hips; it swayed with every movement you made. The short sleeves of the dress looked as though they were about to fall off your shoulders. Natasha's dress, however, was much more slim fitting and hugged her hips perfectly before flowing down, much like a waterfall, making it harder to look at anything else but her.
"Do you think Wanda will get mad at us for arriving a bit later than expected?" You asked nervously, fumbling with your fingers as the two of you made your way down the path that led to Wanda and Vision's home. Natasha shuffled around balancing the tray of pastries you'd prepared in one hand while using her free hand to rub your back gently, comforting you, "I'm sure she won't mind, моя любовь," she reassured you. As you near the house you could hear mumbling from the inside; you heard three or more different voices.
"Is that- is Vision singing?" You asked worriedly, glancing at Natasha who was mirroring your reaction. She knocked on the door, and the singing inside had abruptly stopped. "Oh, that must be our other guests," You heard Vision exclaim, "perfect timing!" You could hear his footsteps gradually get closer. The door swung open and Vision gave a nervous smile, glancing down at the tray of food Natasha was holding before letting out a sigh of relief. He hugged the both of you before welcoming you into his home. He introduced you to Mr. Hart, Visions boss, and Mrs. Hart, his wife.
"Oh hello," Mrs. Hart greeted, "no need to be so formal tonight honey." she smiled at you, pushing away the hand you had extended for her to shake. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug which quite honestly surprised you. You awkwardly pat the older yet noteably shorter woman on the back before pulling away to quickly greet her husband. He glanced at you and Natasha in confusion, opening his mouth to say something before getting interrupted. "Oh here, let me take that, Natasha. You stay here and I'll go get a plate to put these on." You glanced at everyone in the room, offering them a smile before making your way to the kitchen, Vision stopped you before you got to the door, extending his arm out.
"Thank you," he leaned down to whisper to you. You squeezed his arm in response. You weren't used to seeing Vision in this form. He looked human. You rushed into the kitchen, startling Wanda, "I've figured you needed help." You smiled sheepishly at her, placing the tray down onto the counter, taking in all the chaos that was going on in the kitchen. It reminded you of this morning.
"Well, this isn't the first chaotic kitchen I've walked into today," you teased, reaching out for a plate before neatly plating the pastries onto it. Wanda laughed nervously in response, as she flicked through the recipe cards, searching for the right one. You walked back into the living room, placing the plate onto the coffee table prompting Vision to jump up out of his seat and offer Mr. and Mrs. Hart an appetizer. Looking to Natasha, you gave her a wink before swiftly turning around, your dress swaying with your movements as you made your way back into the kitchen, missing the frown forming on Mr. Hart's face.
"Oh, what was I supposed to do next?" Wanda began rambling, "what was the main course again?"
Making your way to the recipe cards floating in the air you attempted to help her find the card with the right recipe, steak. You could hear Vision playing a song on the ukulele while Natasha unwillingly sang alongside him.
"That's not it" You sighed, sifting through the cards, "is this one steak?"
"Steak," Wanda started, "Diane!" she accidentally yells. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. She looks to you with a frown. You just barely heard Vision respond with a, "yes dear?"
"This is going terribly," Wanda frowned, leaning her head upon your shoulder. You chuckled, rubbing her back gently before pulling her away, forcing her to look at you, "Hey, you can do this, okay? You're not alone," you reassured her, attempting to raise her spirits. She sighed in relief, repeating to herself ", "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this..."
Vision barged into the kitchen unexpectedly, his nerves radiating through room. Wanda panics, accidentally using her powers to throw the lobsters out of the window.
"How can I be of assistance." Vision asks, mirroring Wanda's expression.
"Well," Wanda started, "the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop, so the steak is the last man standing," she explains, making her way around the kitchen. You held the recipe card in your hand, skimming the instructions, "it says here you could cut down the prep time with a meat tenderiser." You recited, looking at the couple once more. "Excellent plan! Where's the tenderiser?" Vision questions, ready to help in the kitchen.
"I'm looking at him," Wanda began, holding her hand out to pass the tenderiser to Vision. You pull her hand back before Vision reaches out for it. "No. What you need to do, Vision, is go entertain your guests. Have faith in your wife and I, okay?" You pushed him out of the kitchen, before turning around and clapping your hands.
"So, where were we?" You asked, hopefully.
After a stressful couple of minutes, a brief visit from a woman with a pineapple, and Natasha almost spilling water on her dress; dinner was served.
Well technically, breakfast was served.
The six of you sat around the dining table, nervously looking around. Mr. and Mrs. Hart looked at the food in confusion, staring at the cooked bacon and eggs paired with the red wine and chocolate covered strawberries.
"Breakfast for dinner?" Mr, Hart began, with obvious judgement written all over his face. "How very-" "European." Mrs. Hart cut him off, smiling reassuringly at the two of you.
"European?" You muttered, glancing at Wanda in confusion, who then motioned her hand in a 'I'll tell you later' sort of way. "Oh, let's have a toast!" Vision began, raising his glass up. All of you followed suite as Vision continued.
"To my lovely and talented wife," he gloated, unable to take his eyes off her.
"And to our esteemed guests," Wanda added. You didn't miss the wink she threw at you and Natasha, causing the two of you to stifle your laughs. Everyone clinked their glasses together and dug into their food. It wasn't long after when the questioning began.
"So, where did you move from?" Mrs. Hart began, "what brought you here? How long have you been married? And why don't you have children yet?" She interrogated Wanda and Vision, and you glanced over at Natasha, hesitantly, who shrugged in response before continuing to eat her food. Her eyes then met Mr. Hart's, who's eyebrows were furrowed at the interaction, waiting for his wife to finish speaking so he could say something. You didn't notice Wanda struggling to answer the questions being thrown, while Vision looked at Wanda desperately waiting for an answer. It was almost as if the two of them didn't know themselves.
You also failed to notice Wanda zoning out of the conversation, staring off into the distance as Mrs. Hart continued pestering her for answers. "And what about the two of you, huh? You two roommates?" Mr. Hart questioned, noticing how closely seated you were next to Natasha.
"Something like that," Natasha responded, biting back the smirk that was fighting it's way onto her lips.
"Two lovely women such as yourselves shouldn't struggle to find a man. Why don't the two of you have husbands yet?" Mr. Hart asked, leaning forward. You felt the hair in your arms rise as you realised where the conversation was leading. Glancing at Natasha nervously, you noticed how her fingers were clenched around her cutlery.
"We just prefer each other's company," you stated simply, shoving a forkful of eggs into your mouth to distract yourself.
"What do you mean? Are you- that's unnatural!" He ranted. You ignored him, noticing that Wanda was still trying to answer questions about her and Visions marriage.
"Yes, yes, we were married in," Wanda paused, getting lost in her thoughts. Mr. Hart continued his rant to you and Natasha as You, Vision and Natasha glanced at Wanda nervously.
"You're both women! That's wrong!" Mr Hart argues.
"Well, what's your story?" Mrs. Hart questions Wanda.
Mr. Hart began shouting, slamming his fist onto the table as Mrs. Hart continued to grill Wanda for answers. Wanda snaps back into reality due to a sudden, unexpected noise. She turned to face Mr. Hart who began to choking. You stared at Natasha, frightened and unsure as of what to do in this situation.
"Oh, Arthur, stop it!" Mrs. Hart laughed. She repeated the words 'stop it' over and over again, her tone gradually becoming more panicked as her husband continued to choke. His hand rested on his throat. Vision stared at Mr. Hart in an unsure manner, his hands resting against the table almost as if the were pinned against it. You only just noticed how Mrs. Hart turned to Wanda as she continued repeating those same words.
"Stop it," she pleaded, her voice shaking as she looked at Wanda, who was staring at Mr. Hart in shock. Mr. Hart fell off his chair and onto the ground as he continued to choke. You wanted to rush over and help him but it felt as though your hands were bound to the table and you couldn't move your legs. You were only able to watch as the man continued to choke while his wife chuckled.
"Stop it."
"Stop it."
"Stop it."
"Vision, help him," Wanda demanded. Vision rushed out of his seat and next to Mr. Hart, phasing his hand through his throat and removing a whole chocolate covered strawberry.
When did Mr. Hart pick up the strawberry? You thought to yourself.
"Let me help you up," Vision offers, helping Mr. Hart back to his feet. The atmosphere in the room had immediately changed, going back to exactly how it was before. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped and everyone forgot what was happening.
"Would you look at the time!" Mr. Hart exclaimed making his way to the door as his wife followed behind him.
"Well," Wanda started, "are you both alright?" she questioned nervously, as she stood up. "Yes, we better be going. We had such a lovely time!" Mrs. Hart reassured. The couple left the house very abruptly, mentioning something about a promotion before exiting the front door.
"Oh, we must be going as well!" Natasha exclaims, pushing herself up out of her seat before saying goodbye to the two. She hugged them both before making her way out of the door. You hugged Vision and thanked him for having you over before making your way to Wanda.
"Tonight was wonderful, Wanda," you reassured, pulling her into a hug. You felt her shoulders slacken in your arms, sighing softly as she returned your embrace before pulling away from you, her arms resting on your shoulders.
"Thank you, thank you for everything."
As the two of you made your way home, you couldn't help but let Mr. Hart's words play on repeat in your mind. You could tell Natasha knew what was bugging you as she squeezed your hand gently. The two of you continued to hold hands as you made your way home.
"I know we can't get married," you started, as you stood in your living room, staring at the woman who made you feel most at home. She nodded, waiting for you to continue as she rested her hand against your cheek, allowing her thumb to gently stroke your face.
"But I just want you to know that I'm here for you. For better or for worse. I never want to be apart from you," you chuckled softly, staring at her in awe, allowing your eyes to glance at her lips before you looked back into her eyes.
"I know, моя любовь. And I'd do anything for you," Natasha began.
"Even die for you."
natasha romanoff taglist: @blackxwidowsxwife @severepeanutartisanhands @madamevirgo @starsvck @umsolikeblog @baddecisions-png @yourmcu
all works: @teenwonder @amourtentiaa @husherstan @peggycarter-steverogers
323 notes · View notes
Text
Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)
Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!
Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history
Previous chapter | Next Chapter
AO3 version
Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.
“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”
Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.
“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”
“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.
“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”
“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”
“What was his second warning?”
“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”
“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”
“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”
“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”
“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”
To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.
“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”
“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."
Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.
"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.
"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."
The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"
His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."
Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"
When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.
But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.
Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.
Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.
"Where did these scars come from?"
Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.
Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?
"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."
He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.
(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)
"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.
"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"
He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.
"Malleus, stop that!"
"Stop what?" he innocently asks.
"Stop making me want to laugh!"
He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."
"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"
His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.
"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”
Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.
"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."
"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”
"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.
He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”
"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."
"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."
"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"
"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"
You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"
"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"
"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”
"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."
"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."
"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."
"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"
There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."
"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."
"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."
"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”
"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.
"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."
"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."
"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."
He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"
"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."
You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.
Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.
How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.
You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.
If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.
The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.
“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”
“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”
You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."
Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”
Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.
"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."
No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.
"I love you."
Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.
"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.
"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."
"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.
"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."
"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"
"Yes."
Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"
He nods hesitantly "Yes?"
For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.
He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"
"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"
You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.
"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”
"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.
A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”
Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.
"Bullshit!"
"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"
"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"
"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”
Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"
"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."
"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.
“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”
“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”
“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.
“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”
His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”
You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”
He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”
Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.
“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”
Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”
“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.
“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”
Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.
Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”
You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.
Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.
Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.
You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”
Tumblr media
You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.
He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.
“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”
“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”
“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.
“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”
“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.
“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”
“For how long?” he knowingly asks.
You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”
Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.
“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”
“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”
“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”
Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”
Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.
“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”
He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”
“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”
“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”
“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”
“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”
“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”
“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.
“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”
They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.
As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.
“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”
They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”
“Sebek,” he affirms.
There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.
Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.
...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.
“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”
“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”
“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”
He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.
You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.
Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.
You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.
82 notes · View notes
tinisprout · 3 years
Text
Serendipity on a lonely night
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jacob x gn!Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff
Word count: 3,547
Warnings: mention of blood (once), some cursing, lmk if I missed something
Summary: After a bad breakup, two sad souls decided to go to a park to cry alone. Neither of them expects someone to intrude on their moment. Although they are strangers, they might make this depressing night just a little less lonely for each other.
Being cheated on sucks, but it hurt him a little bit more to find out on his birthday of all days. Jacob thought they were just going through a rough patch in their relationship, he truly thought they would make it out ok. Never did he expect to see his now ex making out with someone else. Angry and hurt, he didn't bother saying much to them and left. Going back to his apartment, he changes into his workout clothes and stuffs a handful of tissues into his jacket pocket as he leaves his house to go for a night run.
He ran as fast as he could, with abandon, looking like a mad man. He was so frustrated he just wanted to forget it all and move on. He knew he didn't need to keep a person like that in his life, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He went to the one place he thought no one would be at, the park. The man tried to slow his pace as his body came barreling at the bench, he threw his hands out to brace himself.
The impact hurt, but this new pain was a welcomed distraction. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He felt the need to vomit and so he crawled to the bush to do just that. He regrets not eating earlier as he retched up bile, burning his throat an egregious amount. Then came the booming sound of footsteps slamming on the ground from behind. Jacob hoped no one would come here he wanted to be a mess in peace, but to hell with it, he'll just leave after he finishes dry heaving, he thought.
Being cheated on fucking sucks, period. You didn't expect anyone to here and to your surprise there seemed to be a drunk man throwing up in the bushes. Maybe going out at night wasn't the best choice, but in the heat of the moment you wanted to cry alone, but it seems that wasn't in the cards. As your attention was diverted you tripped on absolutely nothing and your knees were the first to hit the ground, skidding on the pavement. Regretting wearing shorts, you propped your arms out ready to catch the rest of your body.
On your hands and knees, you were winded from running, your shoulders rose and fell rapidly. "Son of a bitch, that hurt." You bit your lip trying to hold it in this was not the place to cry, someone was here. You sat on the ground sick of it all, to hell with it, you were tired of holding back and used the pain in your knees as an excuse to cry your eyes out. Like a stream they came pouring out your eyes, changing the color of the ground.
"Um, are you okay?" 'Huh, is the drunk man trying to talk to me? He doesn't sound drunk,' you thought to yourself. Looking up at him without wiping your still falling tears.
"No," you continued to cry and you hoped that would be the end of the conversation. To your shock he offered you a tissue from his pocket and sat down, it seems he also started crying. Well, at least this man wasn't a threat. And so, you both cried not caring about the presence of the other. Both cries coming to a still as time passed, you both just sat there in silence for some time.
'This is embarrassing,' Jacob thought. When he saw the person in front of him crying, he didn't expect them to give a blunt answer when he asked if they were okay. Crying without a care, he wanted to do that, he was so tired of holding it in. Well, it happened already, there is nothing he can do about it. It seems the person in front of him was also thinking about how to get out of this awkward situation. "Why were you crying?" Yes, break the awkward atmosphere with an awkward question.
"I feel like that should be my question," you state, making a face.
"Oh well, I already wanted to cry and see you cry it kinda just happened."
"Well, I just got dumped after finding out I was cheated on, all on call. I didn’t believe them, thinking it was some cruel joke. So they send me a picture of them kissing someone else. I came here to cry my guts out, I didn't expect anyone else here."
"What a coincidence, me too. I caught my partner making out with someone else, told me they didn't love me anymore, on my birthday of all days. I ran here to get some fresh air and cry, but I guess I pushed myself too hard and ended up throwing up." He laughs at how pathetic he sounds. He notices you check your phone. 'I guess they want to leave,' he thinks while sighing to himself.
"I'm sorry that happened to you. Um, sorry if this is weird since it not happy anymore, but, happy birthday." The unexpected response made Jacob look at you, mouth slightly agape in surprise. Then he laughed, the look you made wondering if you might have said something wrong. His smile was captivating, the kind that most would do anything to see again. Who in their right mind would cheat on this man?!
Birthday wishes from a stranger at this moment felt nice. Jacob got up from the ground dusting himself off. He offered you a hand, "Thank you, I feel a little better now." You weren't sure why he laughed, but if he was feeling better that was good, he seemed to be having a shitty day. You take his hand as he pulls you up, as your knees bend you groan in pain.
"Crap, my knees." You looked down addressing the pain, there was dust mixed in with the blood. Judging on how you hit the floor, your knees we definitely bruised or at least were going to be later.
"Oh no, are you okay?"
"No," you chuckled at him asking the same question and you giving the same answer. The corner of his lips tugged up when he realized the same thing, he wanted to laugh, but his concern for the stranger took greater priority. Getting a closer look at it, it looked pretty bad.
"Can you walk?"
"Of course,... I just need to push myself." Jacob looked up and searched for the convenience store he knew was around here.
"Hey, you should get this cleaned up soon. There is a convenience store right over there, I can help you if you're ok with that."
"You know what, that would be greatly appreciated, thank you." He bent down a little so you could easily put your arm around his neck. The man supporting you relieved some of the pressure. With his help, you hobbled your way to the convenience store. Finally arriving he tells you to wait at the front of the store while he gets everything, saying it was on him as a thank you. It didn't make too much sense, but you weren't about to argue, so you took a seat at one of the free tables.
He quickly rushed through the store to get big bandages, two water bottles, Neosporin, and a small bottle of mouthwash. He wanted to talk to them earlier, but they were a lot closer and he knew his breath must have smelt rancid after throwing up. After paying, he quickly went to the bathroom and washed his mouth out with the water and mouthwash. Throwing away the evidence as he did a breath check, grabbing a few paper towels before he ran back to you.
"Okay, I'm done, sorry for the wait." You see him carrying a bag with a few things inside.
"You're good, a break from walking is fine with me," you offer up a smile and he smiles back.
"This is probably gonna hurt some, but I'll try to be as gentle as possible." Your smile fades as he gets down on his knees to meet your legs and you clench your jaw. He wet two paper towels and left two dry ones asking you to hold both sets. "Stick one of your legs out, please." Doing as you're told, he takes this opportunity to lift your leg till it's about parallel to your seat. He pours water on the wound and you jolt at the sensation as it stings your knees. Some water slides down your leg and he wipes it back up with his hand and flicks the water off his hand. "Wet paper towel please."
"Huh," you were absorbed by the movement of his hands on your leg, weird. "Oh yeah, here." He glanced at you for a moment, but he didn't question it. Setting your leg down he takes the wet paper towel and gently wipes away at the remaining grime on your knee.
"Dry one, please." 'So polite,' you thought, handing him the paper towel. He dries your wound and leg off, tossing the waste into the bag and he takes out the Neosporin and bandages. He smears the ointment on the cotton pad of the bandage, then smooths the bandage onto your leg. You two repeat the process on your other leg. "All done."
"Thank you." You slowly stand up, it still hurts for sure, you wanted to do something. "Alright, your turn buddy. You stay here I'm going to get something real quick."
"Huh, you don't need help?" He sees you struggling to walk and has his hands up ready to catch you if you fall.
"I'll be fine, just give me a minute." He doesn't push it and takes the seat next to your now empty one. He wonders what you could be doing. A few minutes pass and he hears your familiar voice. Turning to you he sees you now carry a bag. You see his eyes linger around the bag. You clear your throat, "I need you to close your eyes, you can't open them until I say." Jacob is a simple man and does not question them and follows through with the orders. He covers his eyes with his hands. "Oh yeah, I didn't get your name yet. I'm, y/n." He smiles at your statement.
"I'm, Jacob."
"Alright, you can open your eyes now." He puts his hands down opening his eyes and to his bewilderment there are two cupcakes each with a lit candle. His lips form a little pout and his eye go wide as he looks at you. "Happy Birthday, Jacob. This might be the crappiest birthday you've ever had, but I hope this makes it a little bit better."
"Wow, thank you…" Jacob was at a loss for words. There were a lot of emotions coming up again, he felt his throat go a little tight.
"Ah sorry, I shouldn't have brought up the bad things."
"No it's not that...well it partly is that, but I'm also happy. Why are you so kind to me?" That seemed like a weird question, is this not the golden rule?
"Well as thanks, of course. And I think you are being nicer to me than I am to you. Anyways, before your candles completely melt, make a wish!"
"Ah let me think," A wish, there wasn't any particular thing he wished for. His eyes wandered around trying to think of something and his eyes find their way back to you. The soft glow of the candlelight illuminating your face. A smile gracing your face as you wait for him to make his wish. He looks back to the candles and closes his eyes, 'I wish for something wonderful.' opening his eyes he gently blows out the candles. You found yourself hoping Jacob’s wish would come true.
“Perfect, now I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I just got the standard vanilla and chocolate. Hope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine,” he says taking one of the cupcakes and pushing the other towards you.
“I can’t they’re yours.”
“It’s fine I shouldn’t eat two cupcakes this late at night anyway. Unless you don’t like that flavor?”
“Oh, it’s good. Uh, thank you then.” You both take your time eating your cupcakes while continuing to converse with each other. Taking his last bite he licks his fingers clean and you hand him a napkin from your bag.
“Thanks,” After he wipes his hands he stood up. “Can you walk okay, now?” You stood up carefully. It still hurts, but you felt like walking wouldn’t be too terrible, maybe.
“Yeah, I think I will be good, thank you.” You stagger your way back to the sidewalk and Jacob matches his pace with yours.
“Well, I go this way.”
“Oh, me too.” A smile alights both your faces, happy to stay with the kind soul next to you for a little longer before the loneliness grabs hold of you again.
“In that case do you still want my help walking?”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jacob sets out in front with his back facing you, he kneels on the ground, turning his head to you.
“Won’t that be too tiring for you?
“My endurance is pretty good, besides we can get home faster this way, it’s pretty late already. It will only be till we part ways.” Maybe you would have been more hesitant if he didn’t always make sure you were comfortable when talking and interacting with him, keeping a respectable distance that strangers should have.
“Excuse me then.” As you climb on his back he links his arms under your legs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he slowly rises.
“Up we go.” he adjusts, bouncing you up higher on his back. He started walking, and like a gentleman, making sure you weren’t suspicious of him, he tells you which path he takes first before continuing to walk. To both your surprise, your time together lasted longer than imagined. You thought how he might live past you as you got closer to your home.
“Hey, I know we are still kinda strangers, but if it means anything, I think you are really kind. I was treated nicer by you in this short hour or so that we have known each other than I was ever by my ex. I won’t judge your relationship because I don’t know anything, but I think you deserve better. I hope you can move on soon and when your ready, find someone that values you properly.” Jacob lets out a titter at your words.
“Man, I feel like crying again.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I hope the same for you, don’t feel down over someone that left you like that.”
“Ugh, of course! I’m not that sad to lose them, we weren’t dating for that long. I know that kind of person doesn’t deserve to be in my life… I’m sadder at the fact that it happened, it makes me feel inadequate.”
“Hey, don’t say that. Just like you said to me, I think you deserve a person that values you better.”
“Thanks.” He stops in his tracks again.
“I go straight.” To your disappointment, this is where your journey together ends.
“Ah, I go right.”
“Oh,” is all he gives as a reply. Jacob lowers himself letting go of his grip on your legs. Your hands move from around his neck to hold his shoulders as you steady yourself. When you let go of his shoulders he turns around to meet your eyes. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Neither of you wanted to part ways yet, but what could you do? You both thought, this person would be a good friend to have, would it be too much to ask for their number?
“I’ll go first. Please be careful on your way home,” Jacob says, cutting off the awkward silence.
“You too. Thank you, for making this night a little less lonely,” you give him a sorrowful smile and he returns a look just the same.
“Thank you.” And so you both go your separate ways. He finds himself regretting not asking for your number, but it would be weird to go back now, if only he had a second chance. If he had another wish right now, he would have wished to see them again, not that it would have actually helped him anyway.
Finally making it to your apartment building you call the elevator sighing. You find yourself thinking about Jacob as you look at your knees, ‘I should have gotten his number.’ The elevator dings and the doors open up. Someone leaves the elevator and you take their place.
Jacob walks into his apartment building, and sees a person leaving then sees the foot of a person entering the elevator. He calls out to them.
“Please hold the door!” He starts jogging to the elevator. Hearing that familiar voice seems unbelievable. So you move to stick your head out to check to make sure you weren’t mistaken.
“Jac-” you didn’t expect a body to round the corner so fast and you reacted as best you could and tried stepping back, but their body still hit you, though it was with less force than you expected. Cool you thought, you were gonna fall for the second time tonight. The man that bumped into you didn’t think the person inside would try to come out so he had little time to try and stop his momentum and despite his efforts, he collided with the other. Not wanting to fall you reach your arms up and out to the person getting a death grip on their shoulders. The man lunges forward reaching out to catch the falling body, wrapping his arms around the person’s waist. There is a pause as Jacob gets a good look at the person in his arms. When he rounded the corner it was fast, but for a hot second, he thought that person looked like, y/n. He was right, they were staring at each other, hearts pounding in fright. Jacob was the first to open his mouth.
“Hey,” he offers up an awkward smile. You bite your top lip to keep from laughing. The elevator door closes.
“Hey.”
“You live here? You ask at the same time. This brought genuine smiles to your faces.
“Yeah, uh how did you get here before me?” He asks, stepping back to give you room to stand straight again. You loosen your grip on his shoulders letting your arms fall back to your sides. He lets go of you as well taking a step back.
“I took a shortcut. Do you not know about it?”
“No? Im new here, still getting used to this area, so I haven’t really explored around,” you hum in response. He goes to press his floor number and steps aside so you can do the same. You look at the panel of buttons and see your floor number is pressed. The elevator starts rising.
“I think we are neighbors.”
“Really?”
“Yup, same floor.”
“Huh, small world.”
“Guess it is.” Ah, it was awkward again. Maybe you both felt that way cause you were just thinking about each other, not like the other person knew that though. The elevator came to a stop opening to your floor. You stepped out first and Jacob followed. Pointing one way you give him a questioning look and he nods. You walk together in silence thinking how now would be the perfect time to ask for their number, but they’ve been silent this whole time maybe they don’t want to talk right now? Both of your minds hesitant to speak first. Jacob stops first.
“This is my door.” You look at the number on the door that is two off from your door number. Then that means.
“I’m the next door down. I didn’t know I had a new neighbor.” That wasn’t something you bothered paying attention to.
“From strangers to neighbors. Nice to meet you,” he jokes, smiling. You smile back.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“y/n, you seem like a really great person. If it’s ok with you, can I get your number? I think we would be good friends.” That should have been your line, you step closer to him, confessing.
“I actually wanted to ask you the same thing.” The two of you pull out your phones opening up contacts and exchanging phones, putting your info into the other’s phone. Taking back your phones, you take a step back. “Until next time.”
“Until then.” You turn around and start walking to your door. Jacob happily punches in his pin code. And steps into the door, but there was something else he wanted to say, so he poked his head out and saw you opening your door. “y/n,” you turn your head to look at the voice calling you. “Thank you, for making this night less lonely.” You smiled at the familiar words. “That’s it, good night, y/n.”
“Good night, Jacob.” The two of you heading into your respective homes with a tender smile. Hoping to see the other more often.
taglist: @taegurl-ne
86 notes · View notes
geniusgub · 3 years
Text
north//chapter twenty
genre: fluff, angst
warnings: mentions of canonical violence and deaths, lmk if I missed anything
word count: 4k
summary: Spencer is getting reacquainted with life outside of prison, and he gets a not-so-great phone call.
pairing: season twelve spencer reid x oc
please remember to comment, like, and reblog!!
Tumblr media
AMELIA
Spencer and I managed to sleep through the entire day and the majority of the night. After all, the previous day was probably one of the most eventful of my entire life and it left me absolutely exhausted. I can't quite speak for Spencer because I'm sure he's had much longer days than yesterday, especially when he has been away for cases, but it was still stressful and way too long for both of us.
I wake up before Spencer as the sun starts to rise the next day, the sunlight pouring in through the opened window on the other side of the room. Before I even consider getting out of bed or looking at my phone, I look to my side to check on Spencer. He's sleeping soundly, his cheek pressed against his pillow and his hand on my side of the bed, no longer wrapped around mine. He looks absolutely angelic at this moment, his mouth hanging open and his body completely relaxed.
I promised Spencer that I'd be here for him and that I wouldn't leave the bed without him. I've never broken a promise to him before and I don't plan on starting now. So, moving as little as possible so I don't disturb him, I sit up against the headboard, reaching into my bedside table for my journal. I pop open the top and start furiously scribbling down everything I can remember from the last two or so days and how I feel about it, how excited I am to have Spencer home again, and how terrified I am to have Spencer home again.
I barely even notice it when Spencer starts squirming beside me, and my attention is only taken away from my journal when his hand grabs onto my thigh. I smile down at his suddenly tiny figure, finding that he's already looking up at me with a tired gaze.
"Good morning, love," I chirp, tossing my journal onto the floor and sinking back under the duvet in an attempt to absorb some of his radiating body heat. Since he already touched me and he's seemingly feeling okay in the morning sun, I let my hand stray and trail through his flat curls. "Did you sleep well? You didn't wake me up."
Spencer sucks his lips between his teeth, shrugging softly. "I woke up a few times. I just--" he wiggles his hips as he tries to come up with an excuse, "I didn't need to wake you up. I didn't need to bother you. Having you here was enough."
I bring my hand to the back of Spencer's neck, huffing with some slight annoyance, "You're not a bother. You never have and you never will be," Spencer just shrugs dismissively in response, and reaches his hands up to rub his eyes. Spencer has never been good at these kinds of conversations and I imagine he's far too tired to entertain a lecture about how important he is. So I make a mental note to bring this topic back up as I sit up and stretch. "Alright, well, do you want some breakfast? I can make us something to eat."
"Yeah, sure," he nods, ducking away from my grasp and quickly sliding out of bed, putting on a pair of shoes I hadn't realized he set up on his side of the bed.
I reach for a pair of sweatpants but when I look up to find Spencer frozen in his spot, staring at the bed, I drop the pants and sit up on my knees. The sheets are rustled and the duvet is in a heap under me, and he's very fixated on this. His arms are glued to his side but his fingers are twitching like he's dying to use them.
"Spence? Everything okay?" I ask gently, and like the other instances where he gets lost in a daydream, he doesn't react to me. "Spencer?" I call again in hopes of getting some sort of response. But his fingers just twitch and he takes a long, frustrated breath. "Talk to me," I don't know if pressing the issue will help, but if I don't at least try to get him to talk, then I'll never figure out what his issue is. "I just wanna help you, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."
Spencer quickly covers his face with his hands, his breathing becoming labored and heavy, chest heaving. "The bed. It's the bed. It's-- I need-- it's the bed."
It looks like a bed to me. It's a messy bed, sure, but it's just a bed to me. I pause for a second to try to get my brain to match Spencer's. I try to see what he is seeing, but all I see is a bed that we just used for its intended purpose. It just needs to be made, that's all. I can't see into Spencer's brain so I have to resort to asking. "What about the bed?"
"I--" he drops his hands, balling them up into fists again, "The bed is supposed to be made. I need to make the bed. It needs to be made or else they're gonna come and I'll get in trouble. It-- the-- the bed needs to be made."
Oh, this poor baby. My heart aches for him. Not all of him made it out of that prison cell. Part of him is still there. He's not here with me. He didn't really come home.
"Spencer, you're not gonna get in trouble here. It's just me. It's just Lia," My voice shakes as I try to speak, my hands pressed to my cheeks to continuously wipe the tears that start to fall. "I'm never gonna yell at you or hurt you or get mad because you didn't make your bed. Dove, you can make the bed if you want to, but you don't have to. It's okay. I'm not gonna be mad. You won't get in trouble. It's just me."
Spencer stares at me, his eyes wide and his lips parted. His hands aren't twitching anymore but they're still reaching towards the bed. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at me in bewilderment.
I compose myself with a deep breath, wiping my cheeks quickly and climbing off the bed. "Dove, make the bed, please. I want you to do anything that makes you feel better. But if you choose not to, I'm not gonna be mad," I step towards Spencer, holding my hands out in front of me and not expecting him to grab them. "I'm gonna go downstairs and I'm gonna start cooking, and you come down when you're ready, okay?"
I give Spencer one more attempt at a convincing smile before turning and going downstairs. My first stop is to the living room, and I pop the record into the player that Spencer had put on yesterday. If it did something to comfort him yesterday, hopefully it will do the same today. I grab both of our phones and start cooking breakfast.
I mix batter for waffles in a bowl as I check my notifications, sifting through a whole load of texts. My groupchat with my friends has a couple hundred texts, starting off with lots of questions and concerns about Spencer from yesterday, asking if he's okay, if he's home, wondering how happy we are. I have other texts from Wendy and Mike, asking the same types of questions that my friends did. I send some quick responses to all of them and let them know that we're home, we slept for a very long time, and that I'll contact them later with more updates.
Spencer's quiet footsteps approach and I turn to face him, breathing a sigh of relief when I find he's not so worked up anymore. "I hope waffles are okay."
Once I've closed the waffle maker and let it start cooking, I glance over my shoulder to ee what Spencer is doing. He's sitting gingerly at the island, placing his elbows on the granite and eyes darting around the room. Honestly, I don't even know why he sat there. He absolutely hated sitting there and eating yesterday, and it made him have some sort of flashback. Maybe it's because he started off the morning with the prison-bed situation, and now the natural order of events in the day is to be transported right to prison-breakfast.
"Hey, bub, you don't have to sit at the table," I say casually, trying not to bring too much attention to it. "You didn't like that yesterday. But you seemed better when we sat on the floor so we can do that again, or we can go on the couch or the balcony." I don't even have time to see his reaction before the waffle maker beeps, and I have to whip around to pull the waffle out.
I can hear Spencer shuffling behind me, and then I feel his shoulder brushing against my leg as he slides down to the floor beside me. I put the waffle onto the plate and hand it down to him, then open the drawer above his head to grab a fork.
"Thank you," Spencer mumbles, catching my free hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of my hand. It's clearly a thank you for more than just handing him a fork, or making him breakfast, or sleeping with him, or showering with him, or anything of that. It's a thank you for being so patient with him, but I couldn't fathom not being there for him in the way he needs. I want to tell him that he doesn't need to thank me, but in his mind, it is something he needs to do, so I decide to let it happen for a while before I start to refuse his thanks.
The next week functions almost identical to this. Spencer is quiet, keeping to himself and eating his meals on the floor and making the bed perfectly in the morning, cleaning the bedroom floor every night, wearing a tee shirt to bed. I get just a few glimpses of the man he was, but not many.
Emily had called later that day to let Spencer know that the entire BAU was placed on a mandatory six week leave, but also that he had to be evaluated for reinstatement. A whole slew of people have to review Spencer's actions, have to interview him, have to test him to see if he's fit to return to work, and he didn't take this news well. He didn't talk to me for a hours and just curled up on the floor of the bedroom, staring out the window with the drawn-back curtains. I tried, for so long, to get him to talk to me, but he didn't budge and he didn't even look at me. So I just grabbed whatever book was inside his go-bag from the last case he went on and sat beside him, reading aloud in an attempt to bring him back down to earth. And when he did, he went off to shower and then straight to bed.
Spencer's work is his life and there's few things he loves more than his work. I know that he would be lost without the BAU and that he would have absolutely no clue what to do with his life if he couldn't keep working there. So hearing that there's a chance that he may not be reinstated to the BAU is absolutely crushing.
On the other end of the spectrum, the prospect of Spencer not being reinstated isn't all bad to me. In his line of work, there are always going to be enemies. There's always going to be another Cat and another Lindsay. He's always going to have guns pointed at him and bombs blowing up beside him and people wanting to kill him. If he's not reinstated, I get to have him home every morning and night and I won't stare at the wall at lunch with Jenna, wondering if Spencer has just been shot or if he has a knife to his neck. I know that he would absolutely hate not being reinstated, but it would save me so much heartache.
That's an incredibly selfish thought, I know. I'm happy and willing to strip Spencer of one of the things that makes him happiest in his life just so I can sleep at night. But all I've wanted from the moment I met him is for him to be safe and to be happy and if he's not chasing serial killers, I know that he will at least be safe. Happy? I can't help but imagine he wouldn't be.
After a tense week at home, I convince Spencer to let me take him back to his apartment. He insists that he doesn't want for stay there and would rather stay with me, even though I said I would stay at his apartment with him, but I'm happy to let him keep with me. I just want him to be happy.
So I drove him over to his apartment, picked up most of his clothes and whatever else he was needing, and he rounds up an entire duffle bag full of books that I'm sure he would read in just one day. But we collect whatever he could possibly need and shove it in my car, then go straight back to my apartment. I'm starting to get a little stir crazy, being trapped in my apartment, but Spencer doesn't want to go out anywhere yet and the last thing on my mind is forcing him into things he's uncomfortable with.
"So what do you wanna do today?" I unzip the bag full of books and start making a few small piles against the wall, glancing over my shoulder at Spencer. He shrugs gently, too distracted with picking a record to properly respond to my question. Sighing, I return my attention to the books.
The record turns on and this time, I recognize it to be a record full of Christmas music. We've been listening to nothing but Taylor Swift, Frank Sinatra, and Christmas music this past week, and while that's my favorite music and I have no problem with it, it's odd. Spencer never really listened to that music, whether we were together or not. He always managed to convince me to put on some cello concerto that wound up being fifteen minutes long. I thought he would rather listen to that and not Christmas music when it's almost the summer, but I haven't questioned this yet.
"Could we," Spencer starts speaking after a moment, tearing my attention from the books, "maybe watch a movie?"
It's the first time he's suggested anything like that. Honestly, it's one of the first times he's suggested that we do anything. He's just been staying quiet and following me around like a puppy dog, watching me attempt to draw in a sketchbook or watching me cook or watching me do the laundry. He's stuck to my side, even if he hasn't been touching me much. So now that he's suggesting that we do something, I'm not about to pass up this development.
"Yeah, of course. You can choose whatever you want. I'll be over there when I'm done," Spencer nods and turns his back to me, and I pick up my pace in emptying the books from the duffle bag. I don't want to lose this momentum of him, maybe, feeling just a little bit better.
Once I've stacked all the books, I fold up the duffle bag nicely and put it in a place where it won't bother Spencer, and then head into the living room. He's sitting on the couch with a DVD case in his lap, and he holds it out to me when I approach. Always a technophobe, he never goes near the DVD player and lets me do it.
"Polar Express?" I raise my eyebrows, but that's as far as my questioning goes. I pop the DVD out of the case and put it into the player, then grab the remote and press play.
I settle onto the couch with my favorite plaid blanket, draping it over my lap. As the movie starts and the title screen shows, I feel cold. I'm completely covered and under my trusty blanket, but I'm cold. Absolutely freezing. I pull the blanket tighter around me and when my temperature doesn't shift, I quickly realize where the cold is coming from.
Spencer and I are a very physical couple. Despite his aversion to touch, he never seemed to have the problem when it came to me. Especially when we watched movies, we were always touching. Legs, hands, shoulders and heads, laps and heads. There was always a connection, but now there's none. I'm left on my own couch cushion, not sharing Spencer's cushion and continuously pushing closer and closer until we're squished together. A shiver runs down my spine.
We watch the movie in silence for a little while, all the way up until the three main characters are singing a song at the back of the train. And while they're singing, I feel Spencer reaching over, grabbing the edge of the blanket, tugging it closer to him. "You can come closer," he tells me, looking up at me through his lashes, fingers grasping the fuzz of the blanket.
Happy to comply with this request, I scoot closer to him until our legs are touching. I think that's enough for now, but then Spencer slings his arm over my legs and tugs me closer until my knees collapse over his legs and I'm laying my head on his chest. It's a position that I'm so familiar with and I've been dying to be in, but he hasn't been up for lately. My body warms up. The shivers stop.
I completely melt into his embrace, pressing my ear against his chest to listen for the steady beat of his heart as I wrap my arm around his stomach. I let my eyelids flutter closed and relax into him. The movie isn't important anymore, at least not to me.
///
SPENCER
///
Today is a good day, one of the first I've actually had since being home since my prison release. I thought that actually leaving Amelia's apartment would make me nervous, but returning home wasn't as horrible as it seemed like it would be. For once, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm even feeling well enough to watch a movie and cuddle with Amelia on the couch, just like we used to do. She still can't creep up behind me or touch me without showing me her hands first and I still can't eat at a table, but it's an improvement. Albeit a tiny one, but it's there nonetheless.
By the time the movie is coming to an end, Amelia has slid down to rest her head on my lap, her curls sprawled out and her hands pulled up to her chin. She looks ridiculously adorable like this, and even though it's a sight that I've seen many times and I've committed to memory, I wish I could sit and stare at her forever.
But that plan is foiled when my phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. My first instinct is to look down to check that Amelia is still sleeping, and all she does is scrunch up her nose a bit before relaxing. Adorable.
I grab a pillow from beside me and slide it under her head when I slip out from under her. Thankfully, she doesn't notice and she doesn't wake up. Pleased with this, I grab my phone and rush onto the balcony. I don't have time to check who it is before I answer. "Reid."
"Hey, Reid," Rossi's voice comes through the phone. "How's it going?"
"It's-" I ponder my answer for a moment, double-checking that the door is closed as I sink into one of Amelia's adirondack chairs, "um, it's a good day today."
"Good, I'm glad. And I'm glad you've got Amelia to look after you. You've got a good one there. She really cares about you," Rossi says, and his words prompt me to turn and peer into the window at her sleeping form, curled up on the couch and holding the blanket to her chest. "Where-- uh-- where is she right now?"
"She's sleeping right now. I'm on the balcony," Honestly, this is already some of the most talking I've done in the last week and I'm exhausted. I'd rather be talking to Amelia, but Rossi called me for a reason, plus I know that Amelia needs to get some sleep. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah. I'm afraid I may need to bring your day down a bit," Rossi sighs, and my heart drops down to my feet. "I feel horrible calling you now, after everything you went through and while the BAU is on leave, but you need to know the situation."
I furrow my eyebrows, balling my free hand into a fist, digging my nails into my palm to give the pain somewhere to go. "What situation?"
"Damian Kelsey's signature popped up on two bodies in LA."
I didn't think that I would have to face a day where Damian Kelsey's signature reappears. I admit that I have stayed late at work many times just to look at Damian's case file and rememorize the details and try to predict what his next murder would have been all while ignoring the chilling family photos that contain my girlfriend as a horribly abused child.
And this is the worst possible time for this to happen. I can barely go a day without flashing back to prison or almost yelling at my amazing and patient girlfriend. How can I possibly tack on dealing with her serial killer father's signature resurfacing, all while trying to keep it a secret from her? It's nearly impossible. I thought that I could just take these stupid six weeks off to spend time with Amelia and try to rest comfortably, but I guess that's not possible.
"I'm heading to LA as we speak. I'm getting on a plane right now. And while we both know what his signature coming up again could mean, the good thing is that these are male victims and they're not surrogates for Amelia. I know that's what you're worried about. The other good thing is that this is across the country and obviously nowhere near Virginia. So--"
"Spencer?" Amelia's sweet voice comes from the balcony doors, the blanket disregarded on the couch and her hair messy on the top of her head.
"Gotta go," I mumble, hanging up my phone and tossing it aside, not even waiting to say goodbye to my coworker.
Amelia steps onto the balcony, her bare feet silent as she approaches me slowly, rubbing her eyes like a small child. "Everything okay?"
I reach my hands out for her and she smiles, placing her hands in mine and slowly sinking onto my lap, resting her head on my chest, similar to the position we had been in before. Amelia runs a hand over my chest and it takes everything in me not to let out a sound akin to a cat purring.
I just hold her tightly in my arms, probably the tightest I have since I saw her for the first time in the parking lot of my correctional facility. Rossi swears that Damian Kelsey won't come after Amelia but I just hold her tighter, as if that will protect her from the horrors of the world. I have a lot of holding to make up for from when I was gone, and I suppose that time starts now.
TAGLIST
@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @4x24 @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @just-call-me-non @imagining-in-the-margins @boldlyvoid @homoose @gubler-me-up @thundergunexpresss @eideticmemory @andiebeaword
9 notes · View notes
innranrae · 3 years
Text
🐚 A Birthday Amidst the Archipelago
Tumblr media
A/N: oneshot for my fav russian boys bday, i included the golden apple archipelago bc it was the most fun event/area I've experienced in genshin so far and I'll miss it a lot but at least it's inazuma and electro aether time, anyways hope you enjoy this and if you have suggestions/tips on writing or anything please lmk! I'm new to it all and I'm trying my best ;w; my friend proofread this tho and shes big brain so id say this one is pretty swaggy
→ pairing(s): Zhongli/Childe, Aether/Venti (kinda platonic tbh), Venti and Dvalin vibing
→ word count: ~ 3k
→ cw: alcohol
→ ao3
🏖️
Zhongli sensed a large being coming from the skies of Duyun Ruins. He did not want to believe it, but his doubts were soon confirmed.
Dvalin descended from the clouds with a heavy thud, sending the living creatures around either running or flying. Mounted on the Dragon of the East were Venti and Aether; The bard wore a pair of sunglasses and a light attire that shocked Zhongli to the core, he had thought the anemo archon could not get any more ludicrous, but it appears he was mistaken.
A slight frown grew on his face watching the scene and the geo archon couldn’t help but raise his palm to his face, sighing. On the flip side, Childe was astonished; his eyes sparkled observing Dvalin, considering what the outcome would be if they were to fight.
2 days earlier
“Traveler,
It has been some time since we last saw each other. I do hope your ventures are going smoothly.
I am writing to you to request assistance with an event that will take place two days from now. As you may know, Childe’s birthday is on the 20th of this month and I have been finding it hard to come up with a suitable gift. I wish to surprise him but nothing that fits my criteria comes to mind, in addition to the fact I am still adjusting to mortal life and their festivals.
If you do not mind and, of course, if you are free that day, I hope you can help me with this matter.
Zhongli”
After sending his letter to Aether, Zhongli straightened his shoulders on the stool at one of Heyu Tea House’s tables, raising a cup of steaming tea to his mouth, and waited for his guest to arrive.
“Receiving an invitation from Mr. Zhongli first sure feels nice,” a voice shouted coming from the stairs.
Zhongli glanced at the harbinger who took a seat by his side, “Childe, do you have any plans for your birthday?”
Childe widened his eyes slightly, “Birthday?” He raised his hand thoughtfully to his face. “Oh, my birthday! Hm… Is Mr. Zhongli planning on giving me some type of gift?” The harbinger smiled playfully.
“Please answer my question.”
“Nope! None at all.”
In actuality, Childe should be busy taking care of the Fatui’s business around Liyue; unfortunately for his underlings, he was going to do whatever he wanted either way. Additionally, he had a feeling Mr. Zhongli’s question was not trivial, and speculated the archon probably wanted to make plans.
“I see."
Unexpectedly, instead of proceeding on that topic, Zhongli said nothing more as he took another sip of his tea.
Despite the surprising lack of further development, he forgot about it as soon as Zhongli started to talk about a Ruin Hunter he encountered the prior day in the fields.
He knew by now what topics intrigued Childe's simple warrior mind, and that alone had Childe rambling about fighting tactics and his own experiences to Zhongli, occasionally trying to convince the archon to fight him, which he politely refused.
Meanwhile, at the Golden Apple Archipelago...
"I could really use a hand over here, Venti!" Aether's cry for help could barely be heard over the shrieking group of hilichurls advancing one after the other.
"But I-"
After unleashing a wind vortex from his palm, Aether glared at the bard, who was leisurely plucking the strings of his lyre on top of a rock. "Playing a battle song isn't helping!" He cut Venti off, resulting in the end of Venti's untimely concert with lots of whining.
After jumping off the rock, the bard shot an arrow that sent the group of monsters flying altogether.
The pair had a short-lived moment of relief, but soon the eerie sound of a horn was heard, indicating that more enemies were on their way. Aether groaned while Venti giggled nervously, and so, they had to return to their combat stances.
Not long after engaging, the traveler heard a short sound that made him stop his blade.
“Oh, I’ve got mail,” Aether walked a few steps from the fighting, reading the message while leaving the bard to get the monsters’ attention.
Venti's eyes widened at the sudden rush of monsters coming directly at him, though luckily, he sent them flying once again.
“Woah~ Don’t do that so suddenly, traveler, so mean!”
After reading Zhongli’s message, Aether was deep in thought, looking around as if searching for something, until his eyes met the green-colored ones of the anemo archon that reciprocated the eye contact, with a touch of wonder.
Zhongli opened the new mail he received, analyzing the few words Aether had sent.
“Meet us by Duyun Ruins at 9 in the morning, bring Childe with you.”
“Meet us? If I am not mistaken, Paimon has been staying with Xiangling, and didn’t show any signs of wanting to leave any time soon. Perhaps she can easily travel back and forth,” Zhongli thought to himself.
Present Day, Duyun Ruins
Jumping from the dragon’s back, Venti beamed, “Morax! Long time no see~!” Arms wide open as he threw himself towards his old friend. But before he got too close, Zhongli shielded himself, and instead of a hug, Venti’s face was compressed against the solid surface of the geo shield.
Venti staggered a step back from the impact, raising his hand to his cheek, now starting to swell, “Ow!” He pouted.
Zhongli tried to keep his cool, throwing a look at the two boys who recently arrived,waiting for an explanation.
Aether catches on the meaningful gaze and reassures, “Don’t worry, I think we avoided being noticed by anyone.”
“Yeah, Dvalin here is… Well, he tries to be discreet when flying around. After all, I was the one who taught him that~" Venti put a hand on the dragon's body while the other gave Zhongli a thumbs up.
"Saying you were the one who taught him does not reassure me one bit…" Zhongli’s veins were protruding from distress by now. "Aside from that, aren't you supposed to be more careful not to expose your identity in front of the common folk?"
The three other men stared at Zhongli in confusion, exchanging looks between themselves, "Common folk?" Venti asked. Childe was the first to realize he was probably talking about him and began laughing at the Zhongli's seemingly forgetfulness.
"Morax, you sure only remember what you want, huh. Even I know from the traveler's stories that this boy here is the eleventh harbinger of the Fatui. If that harbinger lady took my gnosis, I'm sure this kid knows my identity by now," Venti reassured while Aether slowly nodded, feeling second-hand embarrassment.
Zhongli was at a loss for words, raising his fist to his mouth, awkwardly coughing. On the other hand, the harbinger found the situation quite funny and patted Morax's back a few times while giggling.
Zhongli met Aether's eyes, "Nevertheless, what I desire to know is why that bard and his dragon are here?"
"Well, you’ll see when we get there," Aether reassured, getting back on the dragon's back along with Venti.
Childe cheerfully jumped on, extending his hand down to the geo archon who bashfully accepted, pointedly ignoring the meaningful grins the two other boys directed at him. And with little effort, Dvalin took off to the Golden Apple Archipelago.
The Snezhnayan boy's eyes gleamed with excitement from his first-ever experience that high up, sitting between behind Aether and in front of Zhongli.
Though, his laxity almost made the reddish mask on his hair fly away, luckily being rescued by the man behind him.
"Thank you!" The powerful gushes of wind made his words difficult to understand, yet enough for Zhongli to understand them.
If any normal person would travel through the clouds in the back of a dragon for the first time in their life, surely they would practice caution or be a little wary of their surroundings.
However, because Childe was Childe, an expert in adapting fast to just about anything, the journey on the skies was far from frightening.
A few minutes had passed and the boys were already close to their destination, and with his usual carefree expression, Venti looked back at the men behind him, yelling as Dvalin descended, "Hold on tight!"
With another loud thud, Dvalin settled at the northwestern part of Twinning Isle. Aether grew anxious in anticipation, waiting for Childe to see the preparations that he and Venti had come up with in such a short timeframe.
They had the inspiration from Alice's surprise for Klee, though not as crafty as she was. With the help of Tubby back in the Serenitea Pot, he managed to decorate the place nicely with newly crafted objects.
Umbrellas and chairs painted a light shade of sky blue sat next to fishing rods, Sea Ganodermas and conches decorated the sand in a path leading to a gazebo, which had seashells and starfishes hang from the wooden ceiling, surrounded by curtains.
And inside of it, one chest stored miscellaneous things, while the one next to it contained something that Venti declared extremely necessary: summer clothing he managed to acquire. In addition to the clothes he prepared, the anemo archon was also tasked with providing the food and drinks.
Visibly so as there were at least three bottles of either dandelion or osmanthus wine for every single dish on the table. Which, of course, was all paid for with the traveler's Mora.
All in all, the table was charmingly organized. A cake with a whale drawn on top of it sat in the middle of it all, while balloons were tied to the wooden table.
Upon reaching the sand, Childe was fascinated. The ocean breeze brushing against his face, the warm sunlight of the Archipelago and the salty waves gently crashing onto the tide united all the scenery together.
He’d never seen such a tropical place in his life, so unfamiliar in comparison to his frozen homeland's weather and features.
Lost in admiration for the scenery, he had already forgotten that it was his birthday, only remembering when Zhongli called out his name, directing him to look ahead where the decorated area was put, in preparation for the celebration to commence.
Venti leaned back against Dvalin's tail, already playing a melody, as the other three walked along the decorated path.
Aether fastened his steps, going ahead and getting a small box. Then, turning back to the birthday boy, he extended the gift.
"Happy birthday, Childe."
The harbinger let out a small "thank you" before opening it.
His blue eyes twinkled as he grabbed the content inside the box for closer examination. It was a bright piece of wood with a smaller version of him, Teucer and Aether drawn on it, as well as a ruin guard, or “Mr. Cyclops” as his little brother would say, stood behind them.
Without thinking, Childe embraced Aether tightly with a wide smile across his face, and at the display of the ginger’s excitement, the traveler couldn't help but feel accomplished.
After the gift was exchanged, Venti pointed out the clothes he had prepared, which made Zhongli flinch at the thought of wearing sunglasses as eccentric as his. Luckily, they were just lighter clothes, not accessories.
Childe, already excited from the exotic scenery, went on ahead to change his clothes behind a tall rock.
Zhongli and Aether walked towards the same location, at a much slower pace than the Snezhnayan boy, who was already out of sight.
“Thank you for your efforts, traveler. You managed to surprise me as well,” Zhongli finally got the chance to say.
“It was no problem at all. I’m having fun and the ‘tone-deaf bard’ was a great help, too.”
Childe emerged from behind the rock suddenly, wearing shorts and a shirt that was presumably supposed to be buttoned up. As a matter of fact, all the attires were of a similar design, the few differences being their color schemes, a few patterns, and the boy’s usual accessories.
Before any reaction, they heard monstrous noises getting closer to the shelter. A group of hilichurls nearby seemed to have been alarmed by the dragon’s arrival.
Something inside Childe’s mind clicked and he immediately turned the way of the shrieks, getting ready to fight, “Leave them to me!”
“Oh I was counting on that,” Aether affirmed as Venti nodded. Knowing very well of the harbinger’s passion for fighting, they speculated about the attack and gladly attached it to the list of events for that day.
Aether’s words were thrown at no one though, since Childe had left as soon as those four words left his lips earlier, leaving no time to receive any reaction from the others.
Bad luck for those poor hilichurls, honestly.
Childe's hydro blades moved swiftly, leaving droplets in the sand as they slashed one after the other, ending each almost instantly, leaving little space for a counterattack. He only stopped moving when there were no more of the monsters around, either because they were actually all dead or ran away from fear.
Coming back to the shelter’s path, Childe saw that they were now fishing, which made him joyfully run to join them, and noticing that he was back, Zhongli offered Childe a fishing rod and a seat next to himself.
“Oh man, this takes me back to the old days with my dad,” The ginger said while settling down on the beach chair, “Though the temperatures are the complete opposite, haha. I wonder if my family would survive the extreme change in the weather, though.”
Zhongli and Aether listened attentively while holding their rods, all the while, the anemo archon, visibly tipsy, communicated with Dvalin nearby.
“How come you managed to adapt this easily to the sudden climate change, Childe?” Zhongli asked.
“A warrior must always adapt to any situation. If I let the heat get the best of me, I'm weakened, consequently leaving myself open to enemy attacks."
"Damn, he never changes. If it isn't about his family, the answer is always related to being a fighter… Well, it is almost comforting in a way." Aether thought, mentallyrolling his eyes while taking a sip of the drink Venti had given him.
"I see," Zhongli seriously responded, "It is indeed true. Keeping one's body and mind stable is a must when facing laborious challenges."
Childe was filled with joy upon hearing the acknowledgement. It was always pleasant to hear someone who understood his point of view.
The traveler shifted his attention upon feeling a small force pulling down the
rod.
A fish had finally taken the bait, and the eyes of the two men also moved towards him when they heard the small "oh" Aether let out.
They all rejoiced at the successful catch and its size, and the traveler went straight ahead to prepare a meal for them.
As the day went by, they had almost checked everything on the task list; They fished for a while, Aether showed the mechanisms and puzzles that Klee's mom prepared, even landing his Harpastum so Childe could try them, he also taught them how to ride and summon the Waverider, they exchanged various anecdotes, as well as how the traveler came across the Archipelago in the first place, describing the whole Dodo King saga, and finally, filled themselves with food and drinks.
The sun rapidly fell under the horizon, merging the last colored rays of marigold into the indigo night sky. Venti had managed to convince the traveler to drink with him throughout the day and, needless to say, they were quite drunk by now, though both of them had a high tolerance and were somehow still acting civilized.
While Dvalin slept, the four men sat on the sand, listening to Venti sing around the crackling campfire.
When the bard began to sing a piece about Snezhnaya, Childe seemed to have recalled something.
He shuffled through his belongings, grabbing a bottle with a clear liquid, “This was a gift I received earlier, it’s a Snezhnayan specialty alcohol, Fire-Water!”
Aether gulped nervously at the familiar name. He had heard the stories around Mondstadt, how Master Diluc spent three days in bed after drinking a single glass of it, leading to the unsuccessful partnership with the Snezhnayan merchants.
Childe poured the liquid into separate cups and went around distributing them to the boys. Sitting back in his original spot, he continued, “As per tradition, we have to down the cup in one go!”
Venti was all in for the proposal, and despite their concern at first, Zhongli and Aether respected the birthday boy’s wish.
After raising their cups in a toast, they all drank the beverage at once.
Childe cheered, rambling about how he missed the taste of the drink. Zhongli seemed to be unaffected, calm as always, smiling and listening to the Snezhnayan boy.
However, Aether didn’t seem so well, he had expected the feeling, but because of the previous drinks he shared with the bard, it seemed to have had a stronger effect on him.
Aether wasn't the most affected by the drink, though.
That one shot was the ultimatum for Venti. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t stop laughing, which alarmed the others, but before they could take action and ask what was wrong, the archon fell into the sand, a grin on his face as he passed out.
After the realization of what just happened, Aether was the first to talk, “Um, I’ll take him to the shelter. I’m feeling a bit… dizzy too. I’ll get some sleep, haha,” He was making a great effort to sound coherent.
“Hope you enjoyed your day, Childe.”
A sincere smile was directed towards the boy sitting next to Zhongli. That expression warmed Childe’s heart. Aether had put great effort into this whole day and he could tell.
Childe was about to open his mouth to say something after the traveler turned his back to them while carrying Venti, but was stopped by the blonde, “Oh, there’s something I forgot to say. If you go west from here you will find another island with a shipwreck on top of the, um… Rock structure thing. It’s a good place to watch the stars. Anyways, hehe, good night.”
That piqued the two tall men’s interest, and after watching Aether and Venti enter the shelter, Childe looked at Zhongli, who was already standing up, as if he shared the same idea as the other.
A short cruise to the Nameless Isle later, Zhongli and Childe were already walking side by side through the tide, leaving steady footprints on the sand’s surface.
When the two stopped to both admire the place and look for a way to get to the top of the rocky mountain, Zhongli noticed a mural on the rock, which showed a shipwreck and what seemed to be a few people trying to save each other.
The archon was pondering about the meaning of it when he heard Childe’s voice from behind him.
“Mr. Zhongli, there’s a wind current over here!”
Zhongli went to the other’s location, noticing the current that led to the top of the mountain.
Without much effort, both of them got to the original destination: The shipwreck Aether mentioned.
It was indeed a tragic but beautiful place; a place where one could watch the azure starry sky, pale moon glowing brightly.
The two found a spot to sit near the ship that once sailed the seas, and watched the galaxies above them.
Childe offered another shot of the Fire-Water, which the both of them shared. Zhongli closed his eyes, deep in thought.
He had been trying to find the chance to give Childe his birthday gift, but he couldn’t find the opportunity to do so. Finally, now seemed like the perfect time.
He reopened his eyes and stared at Childe, who was watching the sky attentively, blue eyes shining unitedly with the stars.
“Childe.”
Upon hearing his name, he turned to look at the archon.
“Give me your hand,” Zhongli said, reaching his own towards the harbinger.
Childe automatically did so, and after searching for an object on the pocket of his shorts, Zhongli put the present on the other’s palm.
It was a single earring made of Noctilucous Jade and Cor Lapis, in a similar fashion as the one earring Childe normally wore.
“This reminded me of you when I saw it. If you do not wish to wear it, I understand, but I do hope you could keep it with you.”
Zhongli said that but the harbinger was already taking off his original earring, making the archon a bit embarrassed at the impulsiveness of the boy, yet very pleased.
Childe had been rambling about the, now, old earring and how he had gotten it in the first place, but after a while of no response from Zhongli, he gazed at him, being met by the image of the geo archon fast asleep.
Zhongli had a high alcohol tolerance, but with the nightfall, his drowsiness had grown to an almost unbearable level, and now, he was finally subdued by it.
Ajax couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his expression softened and he decided it was time for him to rest too.
He had never had a better birthday in his life.
14 notes · View notes
Text
Criminally in Love
An analogical fic by yours truly
Logan and Virgil are roommates and dumb idiots (I know what I said) who are obviously in love but too oblivious to realize the feeling is mutual. Now let's rob them of their earthly possessions shall we?
Virgil is non binary with two different eye colors bc why not
Potential triggers : suffocation and attempted murder. (if I missed anything don't hesitate to lmk )
Enjoy!
It had been a quiet night at first. Two friends sat on opposite ends of the couch trying not to seem contemplative. The one on the right was a tall, calculating man with black squared glasses and hair that was tinted blue as a result of lost bet.The one on the right hair that was tinted blue as result of lost bet.If one were to look close, they would see purple hair and dark eyeshadow framing mismatched eyes.Eyes the person in question hated, but the man opposite of them could get lost in if given the chance.
 
Of course, he'd never admit it out loud. If he did, the whole place would go into chaos and comfortable nights like this would be lost. This was his only neutral. The only way to maintain his relationship with his best friend. He had to keep these thoughts to himself. He had to keep himself at arms length and watch what he said. It was overall exhausting, but ultimately worth it.
 
" Hey Lo?" His thoughts were interrupted by the figure to his right. He looked up at them and found both blue and green eyes staring up at him smiling softly.
 
"Yes Virgil?"
 
"I'm gonna head on up to bed, ok?"
 
"Of course, don't let me stop you. I'll see you in the morning then?"
 
"Yea, you will."
 
And just like that, Virgil stood up, stretched, and walked upstairs to their room down the hall from Logan's.
 
Seeing that there was nothing keeping him downstairs alone he decided that the best course of action would be to go to sleep himself. Standing up, he went and shut off the lights, making his way towards the stairs. As he walked up, step by step he couldn't help but feel as though something were off in his small, shared house. Mentally checking through everything he locked and shut off, he concluded that he was just tired and paranoid. All the more reason to get to bed, he thought, making his way up the stairs again.
 
Finally arriving at the top of the stairs, he was faced with a door brandishing a purple storm cloud and lightning. Logan smiled, thinking back on the day he helped Virgil paint the door. It may have taken 3 weeks of accidental peeks of bare skin, but Virgil found the door completely worth it, and that's all that Logan cared about.
 
Finally returning to the present, he gave a small knock on the door and entered upon hearing a small voice saying 'come in'. The room was painted all black with different Halloween decorations scattered around the room. (But it's the middle of March, why do you need so many bags of spider web? Because, Logan, it's my aesthetic.) He looked over at the Nightmare Before Christmas comforter and smiled, repeating a phrase he said every night.
 
"I'm going to head to bed myself, feel free to wake me up in case of anything."
 
To which Virgil giggled and said their reply:
 
"Why, would I do that when you clearly need your beauty sleep?"
 
Both friends laughed lightly and waved goodnight, not daring to break the tension. It was always like this. Every night. Everyday. All the time. It was as though they were trapped in a time vertex and every time they came close to confessing, it would start over. They were prisoners to their own feelings and insecurities. Forever in the friend zone, never to make a move. It was almost pathetic the way they let their fears control them. But it was all they had. And it's all they needed.
 
___________________
 
It was a loud crash that awoke Logan a few hours later. He sat straight up and looked around, finding his room incredibly still. He closed his eyes and listened for anything unordinary. There was a muffled shuffling of feet coming from down the hall but Logan was unsure if it was actually Virgil or not. I'm sure there's no harm in finding out, he reasoned.
 
Crawling out of bed he noticed the bathroom window was opened and his anxiety had spiked. Virgil never opened windows in the middle of the night as it was too cold. Realization finally dawning on him, he ran to the next room, accidentally hitting something behind the door that let out a loud 'oomph'.
 
Quickly, he ran to the light switch and turned the light on, revealing two masked figures, one on the floor and the other on top of Virgil, holding a pillow over his face. Upon seeing the attempted murder, Logan ran over to the bed and pushed the black clad intruder off of Virgil and punched them square in the jaw. Attempting to keep them further away from Virgil as possible, he went over to the figure on the floor and attempted to restrain him. On the bed, Virgil let out a deep gasp, attempting to get as much air as possible. Finally catching their breath, they addressed their roommate on the floor
 
"Logan wha-"
 
"Virgil call the police, now!"
 
Scrabbling to get to the phone as soon as possible, they nearly tripped over the other intruder on the floor, hitting him on the head harder than intended. It was as though they were in a movie scene and everything around them was life or death, causing a spike in anxiety and urgency.
 
It was about another 20 minutes until the police arrived and took both intruders into custody. The two roommates on the other hand stood leaning on a police car, both giving their statements of the incident. Afterwards, both of them looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say next, the tension once again surfacing in their eyes. Surprisingly enough, it was Virgil who broke the silence.
 
"Uhm, thank you, for the uh-, well the-, um, for saving my life."
 
Logan nodded, "Are you alright?"
 
"Yeah I'm ok, although my throat does hurt. I'll be fine in the morning."
 
A new silence fell upon them. Logan, more frustrated now than before decided to be the first to speak this time.
 
"Are you going to be okay in your own room? I know you kind of had an unpleasant experience right now-"
 
"I'll be fine. I might just feel a bit uneasy after tonight, one never knows when they're about to be attacked." They said, their voice dropping low along with their head, attempting to avoid eye contact. Logan lifted their head to meet his, and looked at them in their beautiful eyes. Virgil held their breath, trying not to break the tension or the bubble,they should say, that both friends tried to maintain.
"I will always watch over you, this I swear Virgil. "
They let out a laugh that came out more like a huff, and looked down again before looking back at Logan's deep brown eyes.
"You really think I'm worth so much fuss?"
"Every bit of it, and more," he paused, hesitating before deciding to continue, "Virgil, you mean the moon to me, and I don't ever want to lose you. Every atom and molecule in my body screams out to you unlike anyone else I've ever known. At first I couldn't place the feeling since it hurt as much as it felt good, but I figured it out and," he paused again, trying to think rationally about it. But he couldn't continue to just stay friends with the smaller figure before him, so he had to say it.
"Virgil Storm, I believe that I've fallen head over heels in love with you, and I must certainly do not intend to get back up."
Both friends were silent, not knowing what to say. The bubble was finally broken and feelings were out in the open. Virgil looked down at their feet, tears forming in their eyes as they tried to figure out what was supposed to come next. Confusion and uncertainty filled their mind as they went through everything that could possibly go wrong. Yet for some reason, a voice in the back of their head told him to stop. That nothing will go wrong because they loved Logan too. The voice that said that just loving each other was enough for now, and that they could worry about everything else later because now they knew, Logan loved them too.
They looked up at Logan and saw the absolute great in his eyes after their long pause. Virgil couldn't help but feel bad but they knew that Logan understood that they needed the time to work through their feelings and come to the conclusion that they did. Thats why they work so well together, because Logan understood and Virgil took the precautions needed to understand everything that was going on. They smiled as they looked back into the dark chocolate swirls that were Logan's eyes and finally gave him the answer he was waiting for.
"Logan Crofters, I'm in love with you too, and I don't plan on doing anything to change that."
And with that, they cupped Logan's face, bringing it closer to them and put their foreheads together. The two of them stayed there for a while, closing their eyes and basking in the bliss of newfound love and cherishing the moment of just being there, and never being alone again.
 Tag List:
@periwinklepost-its
@myhorriblepropeladdiction @thefluffyotter33
20 notes · View notes