Little Mx "I Don't Have A Favourite"

- fpoon anon

Rien going on a date with Reader!

DUDE IM SO SORRY FOR THE RUSHED ENDING. I STARTED OFF GOOD AND THEN RUSHED IT BECAUSE I WAS TIRED. I APOLOGIZE FPOON ANON. LMK IF I DID ANYTHING WRONG PLEASE

ALSO I KNOW. IVE NEVER BEEN ON A DATE EVER IN MY LIFE. I KNOW THIS SHIT IS CORNY. SPARE ME THE TOMATOS

the relationship here is platonic btw.

Ever since you saved Rien and brought him in your living space, your life was starting to get weird. Like very weird. You had a new roommate , someone that had the skills of a color fixer. He was also an ex member of the prescript, a Proxy nonetheless, someone who used to be a Star of The City level threat.

The irony is that the same someone who has skills of a color fixer was found doing house chores such as washing the dishes, ironing the clothes and so on. It was comical. You also had to patch and treat his now, burnt eye every few or so days. He always stood still like a statue when you did that, not muttering a single sentence, unless spoken to.

Slowly, you introduced him to your hobbies. He was a curious man afterall. He was also willing to watch or hell, even try doing them himself. Rien started to enjoy this domestic life and distance himself from the bloodshed filled one. His true self was also starting to crack up slowly, after being forced to act under someone's shadow for countless of years. It reminded him of old family in a way.

Since you starting getting close to him , some nicknames started spilling out from him. You didn't mind that, since it meant that you two are starting to form a close bond and found it cute too. An occasional dear would be thrown around out of the blue.

Whatever , today wasn't like any other day in the weekend, in which you would wake up , laze around and do God knows what. Rien had other plans instead.

The thing is, Rien wanted to go on a date with you for a long time , though, he didn't know how to ask for one. He also had to mask his old identity to avoid suspicions or hell, even detection from others. You helped him do it.

Eventually, he started gaining some self confidence and decided that today's the day, in which, he will finally ask you out (and maybe confess his growing feelings too). He wanted to spend more time with you afterall.

He appreciates what you've done for him, and his way of payment is by asking you out. Scared like a cat, he made the first move:

"Dear, mind telling me what plans do you have for today?"

"Nothing at all, as usual. Boredom, why are you asking?"

"I was thinking, if I could take you out, somewhere? Somewhere beautiful? Somewhere that would cast this cloud of boredom? "

You couldn't believe it. Rien, out of any person? To ask you out, on a date? But there are better questions left to be answered. Where exactly would he bring you? You could see his worried expression , waiting for your answer. And why, why is he doing this?

"Like on a date? Then sure!"

"Mm… "

If you were to be honest, you didn't care where he would bring you. It could wary. From a walk in a park, to an expensive restaurant (which to be honest you both couldn't afford it, even if you both put the budget for it). You've never been out with him so far, even for groceries or daily tasks because he was still scared of detection but deep inside , he doesn't want you to get hurt by hanging out with someone who abandoned the Prescript.

You had a slight idea of what would the people following the Prescript do in their free time. And you did NOT want to partake in it whatsoever. Still, you trusted Rien somewhat, since he abandoned his "God" and went on another path of life. One with freedom and free will, controlled only by him , himself and his decisions in the future. At least, you're here to help him.

Eventually, he got ready. Prepared himself and everything for your first ever date. You also made sure to mask his look and to replace the old bandages.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt? Tell me if it does." is one of the questions you would always ask before treating his hurt eye.

"It doesn't hurt. If it did , I would've told you. Afterall, you're the only one taking care of me at the moment, aren't you?"

You knew his secretive persona and didn't want to insist. His expression didn't make it better because you genuinely couldn't tell what was he feeling. Sometimes you had to scold him for it.

Whatever, you scavenged for the best clothes you had because, this was a special occasion. Your first ever date with your "roommate" and the first time that you together went outside.

"Sweetheart, you look mesmerizing as always. I love how your looks bless my eyes every time I look at them. You know it, don't you? "

"No I do not know."

"Allow me to remind you every day then."

While both of you were walking, you felt this strange urge of holding hands with him. It was unexplainable. You gently hit his palm so he could get the signal.

"Can I?"

"Yes you may."

At first, you had no clue where in hell would he take you. Either in some park or at a restaurant. Either way, it would be great, no matter his choice. You two ended up doing some small talking while you were walking towards your destination.

"Rien."

"Yes dear?

"Where are you taking me exactly?"

"I'm glad you asked. I'm taking you to the place where you used to love hanging out. I told you that it was going to be somewhere beautiful. I'm sorry I couldn't do more." You could hear the worry again in his voice. Afterall, he was afraid of disappointing you.

"No no, it's okay, thank you. I appreciate your gesture. Afterall, it shows your true self."

"You're welcome, sweetie…"

The way he knew where to bring you was because he overheard a conversation between you and your other friend. He knew it was your favorite place because of the way you described it to them. His "walks to clear his mind" were just him going there to see for himself, and to remember the easiest routes.

Whatever, you both walked hand in hand and you could still feel his soft gloves, brushing against your palm.

You stopped to sit on a bench, which offered a perfect view towards the lake and the surroundings themselves.

"Sweetheart, do you enjoy sunsets?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"It looks beautiful , doesn't it? The lake, the park , the way the sun closes its curtains…everything around here is beautiful. Even the person sitting near me. " He then looked at you and smiled warmly.

"Thank you for the compliment. I appreciate it, truly. You're pretty too! But how did you know I liked this place?"

"I've got my ways darling. A secret."

He pointed out two ducks, a mother and a father , both enjoying their time together with their ducklings.

"Whenever I see them together…I get reminded of my past. I miss them still, my own family that I built up throughout years, my own daughter that ended up abandoning me , The House of Spiders…"

"I still reminiscence over my past and I regret the fact that I couldn't do anything to save them. A part of me yearns for it but I learned to accept it and move on. But at least, you're here with me. Patching up my wounds. Taking care of me. Thank you for saving me from my demise."

"I wonder, does this suffice as a payment for what you did to me? And what you continue to do for me, my dear…?"

You didn't expect that "My" in front of "dear". Was his way of confessing? Was his way of letting hints that he has a growing adoration for you? Maybe but, who knows. Sometimes , his words were left up to your interpretation alone, and it was one of these times.

"…Yes it does. Thank you once again."

You both spent the rest of the sunset staring at the lake alone. When you both had to go, Rien hugged you. Out of the blue. However, he let go of you. It didn't last for long.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for it. I want to go on more dates with you."

"As you wish, dear."

Afterwards, no one dared to mutter a word on the way home. The day felt accomplished, like you did something productive, instead of lazing around. The same could be said for Rien, coming home with a smile on his face. The date felt awesome .

When you both got home, you didn't even get the chance to eat dinner, immediately going to sleep. Your whole body was begging you at this point for it, and you gave it what it wanted. Before you headed to sleep, you made sure to wish Rien a casual "goodnight" and a "sweet dreams". The talking would be done tomorrow

Before you left to sleep, he let you a surprise.

"Stay here. If you don't mind."

Then suddenly, he kissed the top of your forehead.

"Mm…Here we go, goodnight."

"I swear, if you do this…goodnight"

-Yi Sang & Child!Reader (PLATONIC) -

WC: 573 (learned the hard way to keep it under 1000)

NOTE: why sleep when you can write about doing it instead 🤑🤑 IM A GENIUS

Nights were best spent in the League. Here nested the soft chirp of baby birds past their bedtime, mixed with the usual hubbub of adults who never slept.

However, Yi Sang was never part of the commotion. The quality of his work spoke for him.

While you never understood his explanations, even dummies could appreciate how easy he made it look. Creating was art. This was art.

Lamplight held your brother's hands as he screwed in bolts; fitting big parts together as if they were never meant separately. In its inner body, he'd tie cogs and gears into intricate patterns that turned the spectacle into working art.

Your mouth parted with wonder.

…Then it hinged into a yawn.

In the midst of your observation, you felt your eyes droop past a blink. Sleep lugged your head downward, then up, like a crane operated by a lazy worker.

Only a small, blurry slit of your vision was usable. Yi Sang's movements came and went in flickers, until it disappeared altogether once your head surrended to your arms.

A clink hinted that he put down his work. He called out your name twice, you think. It didn't take a third try for him to realize you were fast asleep.

A warm jacket hugged you from behind, then followed Dongbaek's voice. You tuned out of her and your brother's conversation at intervals because the warm blanket made you weak.

"… just go home already." was all you could make out from Dongbaek. The jacket was adjusted.

Her voice was rough. Blunt. Fit for hurling banter and insults.

But it melted tender when the subject was you.

Pleasant sounding-words echoed, laughter lingered a little while, till Dongbaek's footsteps disappeared into somewhere else and Yi Sang got up to pack his equipment.

Shame… You didn't wanna go yet. You were ready to doze off here.

Once everything was in its rightful place — it was now your turn to be moved.

He handled you with more care than he did the former. You were picked up by the underarms, cantaloupe burning through your lids, and whisked into his hold.

Being in his arms was comfy. No wonder the scent of unfinished machines didn't want to let go. Even if you didn't like feeling gross, you curled closer to him by instinct.

He passed through a symphony of different voices. Some shrill, some mellow — others confident and erratic. Although you couldn't make out anything, Yi Sang's was the clearest of them all. His voice was a threader that spun together all the chaos in the world in a proper web.

"…Need not worry. We've traversed this road abundant times." His reassurance made things fall into hush.

The bell chimed — the one you heard everytime you went in. That was how you marked the shift from the inside world to what was outside.

It let out one last ring as the door was shut, bidding you two one last goodbye. Goodbye, little bell, good night to you too!

On his way out, Yi Sang started humming a tune. His steps made the rhythm and the timbre resonated in his chest. You weren't sure what the lyrics were, by this point you were waxing slow and dull, drifting off into the shadowy realm of sleep.

Yet no nightmare dared to lurk about in that darkness.

Not when you were safe in your brother's arms.

may I please request reader playing with the hands on Dante’s clock and accidentally messing up their clock (head) and their sense of time

oopsie ๑⁰̷̴͈⌔⁰̷̴͈๑

You sit on Dante's lap, face to face (face to clock?), with your hands on their head. You have been so curious about their whole… thing with their head and only now do you have the modicum of peace to try. The fire on Dante's head seem much brighter than usual, perhaps due to the embarrassing pose you two are holding. Luckily, you are in their office so there is no one else to comment on your positions, or else your poor partner might actually catch on fire.

Your touches are hesitant at first, only emboldened by your dear partner's reassurances. You poke at the hands while looking at them from different angles. They tremble a little but do not seem to be too affected by your actions. Dante, as far as you know, does not mind this either. When asked how it feels, they answer with a quaint "It is kind of weird but not in a bad way."

You nod, glad to know that poking is fine. A little bit more confidently, you nudge at the minute hand. It does not budge. You look back at Dante. They nod, giving you their go-ahead. You nudge it again, now weirdly invested. The stubborn thing does not move. That petty and childish feeling of competitiveness rises in your heart again, tempting you to bat at the minute hand. Faust must have said something about your actions since you hear Dante address her. You do not bother to move from your compromising position as your partner has made no move to stop you at all. Soon, she leaves with the door closing with a quiet 'click' behind her.

"Is anything the matter?" You ask. Dante often have their consultations with the others sinners but there should be no one around during this time. They had cleared up the schedule for your passing whim, making you swoon at the time. They shook their head, "She said something about not messing around too much with my head," you freeze mid-action, "but I think this should be fine! It is not like you are messing with the self-destruction button behind my head." Your brain loads for a moment, trying to process the information.

Meanwhile, your hands refuse to stay put but instead continue to push and tug at the clock hands on their face until- The minute hand moves.

Suddenly, an awful ringing sound rips through your eardrums. The two clock hands spin so fast they are nothing but a blur on Dante's face. Any computation you have been doing is violently put into a pause. Your hands clutch at your ears but the sound does not stop, seemingly coming directly from inside you. You feel like your head might just burst open if the sound continues on any longer. The sound soon fades out, thankfully, and with it the headache. Then, soon after, the fire on your partner's head dims before igniting brighter than ever, even brighter and hotter than the first time they had a meltdown back when you first encountered Bamboo-hatted Kim. You jerk backwards at the heat and almost fall over, only saved by the wooden desk behind you. Dante's fire did not burn you but the heat is awfully real against your skin.

Their clock hands spin wildly for another moment that drags on for an eternity when it all stops. Dante, after all that, limply falls forward, their head resting against your shoulder. The heat has dissipated. The minute hand has yet to return to its original position, and instead is stuck where number nine on a normal clock would be. You warily poke at their limp body a few times before they sit up again just as abruptly as this whole incident started. They gasp a few times as they tug your body towards them. Your partner clutches at you like a lifeline, mumbling something akin to a prayer.

Slowly, they can sit back up again, their breathing (?) slows back to their usual. "How long has it been?," Dante asks. You look between the ordinary clock on the wall and their head a few times, then you finally reply to them, "Not that long, really. Less than half an hour." Your partner nods, mildly contemplative. They hum quietly while their fingers, still on your back, fiddle with your uniform. As if sensed your oncoming question, Dante starts, "Something is off. My sense of time is all weird.." You freeze for the gazillionth time today. Guilt creeps up behind you. What started as a simple curiosity has thrown your partner into a strange state without any answer to whether this can be undone. You apologize profusely while Dante simply forgives you with impressive calmness. Your apologies are interrupted by the sounds at the door.

Someone knocks on the door a few times with such force you are halfway sure they would simply break their way into the office if they could. Dante tells them to enter while you shuffle off their lap, stumbling a little in the process. The door opens behind you with a sense of urgency radiating off of the person. You turn back and, of course, who else can this be but Faust.

Her already pale complexion somehow manages to turn even more pale, turning almost faint. You smooth out nonexistent wrinkles on your clothes while looking like you would prefer if the floor just opens up and swallow you whole. Dante coughs, or at least makes a sound akin to the action, into their fist. The genius for once looks so lost at the situation, Dante notes to themself, not even the time on the Warp Train managed to make her like this.

She walks to their table, her eyes fixed on the minute hand. "Faust has warned you of this." You two at least have the conscience to look (somewhat) sorry for the situation, making her sigh. The genius sits down on one of the spare chairs, a hand on her forehead and starts interrogating you. What did you do for the clock hand to move? How did it feel like before it all happen? Time pass by in a blur with the only thing of note being your partner sometimes talk too fast and then too slow and their hand gestures are the same. It must be the problem they mentioned earlier.

The issue drags on into the following day. Dante looks horribly sluggish despite their attempt at seeming a-okay. They are forced to have a proper watch on hand at all time for better battlefield management. The manager could do without the device before but with the consequences of your actions… The sinners are quick to tease Dante, with not many noticing the change on their head and even fewer with the desire to say anything about it. Vergilius only sighs and settles down in his seat. You pray that after this all tides over, he will not immediately go for your head.

"Aye, did ya and the loser 'ave a baby last night or sum'?," Heathcliff leans over the back of your seat, "Why's there a mini Dante?" You shove your face in between your hands, weakly responding to the man, "I was messing around and now Dante lost their sense of time…" Everyone pause, other than Vergilius who has been debriefed on the matter after Faust has come to an appropriate course of action. A strange silence hangs in the air for a moment before Rodya and Heathcliff almost fall over themselves laughing and you can hear Ryoshu's amused 'heh', at least the others are nice enough to look concerned or a little baffled by this entire mess. Your face heats up even more while Dante seem to have given up entirely on defending themself at this point.

The bus continues to move forward, even with the shocking event, once Faust confirms Dante can still revive and function just as usual. Your partner's head fixes itself eventually after several days. The white haired genius, however, does not let the two of you have any semblance of privacy for a while, lest something even worse might happen behind closed doors. Safe to say, you steer clear of messing about with Dante's head from then on.

→ masterlist

yet you lean into her touch, gripping the edge of her sleeve. staring, silently pleading for her to stay. her gaze softens, warm as a summer's eve. she cups your cheeks, thumbing beneath your eyes with a hum. each tear glimmering against her skin, jewels scattered over your hands. her forehead presses against yours. murmuring into your ear and tucking her heavy coat around your shoulders. tea, after this. tea and rest- you'll have a headache, soon. it always comes after weeping. the books can wait until tomorrow, until you're bright as starlight once again. until your laughter fills her senses and dances in the air. then she'll ask. it's important to know what did this. who did this.

perhaps they'll be dismembered within the hour, never again dulling your mood. her lips twitch into a faint smirk.

ok you get to go to the front of the queue because i was rewatching calvin's from the fog when i saw this

sinners playing minecraft

everyone insists on sending you. only you. a unanimous vote, pushing microphones and wires into your hands. a few agents bow their heads. sheepish, grateful. most simply hurry away. pointing towards the room currently holding your Sephirah captive. you're the only one she trusts. they've all seen her silent glances, the quiet longing hidden behind layers of ice. even if you don't. earnestly oblivious in your work, each lingering touch slipping by. the door is cold to the touch. bleeding into your clothes as you step inside, shivering. Binah sits, teacup empty and dry. gaze flickering up, dark as onyx and sharp as an obsidian blade. yet she softens, seeing you. posture easing, rising to her feet.

"So, it is you who shall interrogate me."

she chuckles, watching you stumble over your words in an attempt to explain. holding up a hand until you lapse into silence. the same hand finds purchase on your head, slowly stroking your hair. Binah's nimble fingers easily assemble each instrument, slipping the headphones over her ears. you're still tucked close. her arm around your shoulders, adjusting the equipment. she clears her throat, squeezing you once. firm. careful. reading the script before her, smooth as silk. staring at you, out of the corner of her eyes, that familiar, subtle smirk etched into her features. your cheeks warm. burning hot, instinctively hiding your face in her coat. Binah laughs again, fully unburdened. before leaning down and dropping a feathery kiss onto your forehead. perfectly positioned to catch her favorite agent should your limbs fail.