#BUT IT WAS TOO LATE TO SCRAP THE SETUP SO SOMEHOW

[crehador]

suddenly understand the can't-have-sex-because-i-have-a-headache trope on a deeply intimate level. started writing a pwp and got a headache so bad that 15% of the way through i was like "ach. not today lads. i think you're gonna just have to have a nice christian talk"

[luzial]

i think parchment deserves a cone of shame

So mean, Parchment is perfect, why would she ever deserve a cone of shame?

Here's some more pre-Overgrown Solas & Parchment. Also on AO3.

It was finally the last day of the semester. Solas sat on his bed with Parchment resting against his hip, and contemplated whether he could get away with not leaving his house for the entire winter break.

He'd made the mistake of attempting to go on a date. The endeavor was all but doomed even before they met. He should have canceled when he realized it was going to be the same week that Parchment was scheduled for her spay. But with end of semester duties taking up all the available space in his mind, Solas didn’t realize his error until it was practically upon him.

The woman who owned Lydes' used record shop had insisted that he should meet her daughter. Solas had practically nothing in the way of expendable income, but some of the only luxuries he'd allowed himself over the past few months were albums he'd purchased from the store - often ones the owner set aside for him once she learned his taste. And while the idea of a setup was terribly awkward to him, he had foolishly allowed himself to believe that an understanding of his preferences in music might somehow translate to an understanding of his preferences in people.

Solas had arrived at the bar a few minutes early and claimed the last unoccupied table. The place was surprisingly full. His colleagues were all just as busy as he was - he couldn’t imagine so many people had this much free time when grades were due in less than 48 hours.

It was at that moment Solas realized the bar wasn’t full of faculty. Or staff. Or even adults.

It was the student bar.

Of course he was well aware that every university town had at least one, if not more. But he’d spent little time outside his house this semester and hadn’t bothered to learn anything about the town’s nightlife. When he’d needed to pick a location for the date, he’d simply chosen the bar most convenient to his office on campus - which, in hindsight, was an obvious reason students would frequent it as well.

Solas stared down at the table, certain he wasn't imagining the weight of many eyes on him. He should have canceled, he thought again. The entire idea was ill-advised, and all he could think of was Parchment, who he’d left sleeping on his bed, wearing an awful plastic collar around her neck to prevent her from licking at her stitches. But his date was only in town for the weekend and there would be no chance to reschedule.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to leave, he thought, and offer some inadequate excuse.

He finally made up his mind to do so at the precise moment she appeared in front of his table, framed by the eyes of numerous students who had spotted him. Solas had to grip the seat of his chair to stop himself from standing up and walking out.

He managed completely banal small talk, punctuated by several extended silences, for all of twenty minutes. Then, he looked down at his watch - which he belatedly realized was probably the rudest thing he could do under the circumstances. But his watch and the scuffed tabletop were the only two safe places for him to direct his gaze. Looking up meant risking locking eyes with a student when their head whipped in his direction.

The writing was on the wall and his date made her excuses a few minutes later.

Solas had no idea what he'd been thinking, he realized as he half-jogged his way back to his house. However quiet his holidays might be, an alternative would not be found in a blind date. 

When he arrived back home, Solas was relieved to find Parchment exactly where he'd left her. He slipped off his shoes, grabbed a book from his nightstand, and then curled up beside her on the bed.

Over the next few days as Parchment recovered, Solas had only limited success following the vet's instructions to keep her calm. She quickly regained her energy and was skidding across the wood floors to chase after scraps of paper - both real and imagined. He had to extract her from several places she managed to get herself trapped with her cone stuck between some piece of furniture and a wall.

Solas realized that he enjoyed the peace that descended on Lydes when students made their way home for the holidays. Whatever concerns he had about boredom or stagnation without a class schedule to keep him on task quickly faded, and the embarrassment from his failed date morphed into relief. He enjoyed the freedom of his solitude: time to clear more debris from the garden, to work on the secondhand bike he'd saved all semester to buy, and to sit in front of his fireplace (now that it was finally safe to use) and read.

Now that he had a place that truly belonged to him, that he could shape into the sort of sanctuary he'd always wanted, it was difficult to dream of wanting to share it with anyone else.

Except Parchment, of course.

[beevean]

Hecula. Isaactor. Joaactor ;)

Alright, if I must be brutally honest:

where is the porn?

Like. To me the setup "the Lord and his pretty loyal knights who'd do anything for him out of gratitude" is so damn obvious. I know CoD cannot compete with SoTN or AoS in terms of popularity, but really? Nothing? I was lucky to find any scraps of Isaactor by digging into the 10+-year-old trash of blogs here! Where is the material?! I feel like I'm having visions! Or maybe I came too late to the party 😭

(well, I did find two Draactor fanfictions. they were bad. one of them was pretty good except Hector was so OOC it hurt, and the other was NFCV levels of WTF. so yeah. let's just say they were inspirational...)

anyway I don't know what else to say, Draactor in general has consumed my mind. Isaactor is a fun divorsties ship because I love to imagine how their relationship, potentially solid and wholesome, crumbled apart due to their life circumstances, a tragic case of "they were at the wrong place in the wrong time but they couldn't meet anywhere else". I love how they are very different, but with just enough similarities to mesh together, and those similarities is their brand of toxicity (I want Hector to be more of a bastard lol, down with "meanie Isaac abused poor Hector"). And Hecula just hits all my favorite tropes that make me go "oh this is very gross and bad and disgusting 🥰" while also keeping the themes proposed by CoD about Hector being forced to be Dracula's reflection <3

(special shout out to Isaacula for being an evergreen villain/simp ship!)

Anyway, I know the actual opinion you want :P

Joachim is kind of a freebie, for lack of a better word lol. We don't know much how he'd be free from his cell, let alone several centuries into the future. But I like the proposed version of him being sarcastic, irriverent (too old for Dracula's shit lol), constantly on the edge of snapping, but also still unused to being loved and appreciated. Much like a certain redhead :P so, somehow, the two fit together like a glove. Isaac would not be disturbed by Joachim's nature and appreciate being appreciated. Joachim would simply admire Isaac's qualities like his passion and wit and not compare him with anyone, and himself being touched that he's not considered a "crazy old vampire".

Hector is harder to fit, and it feels like it's mostly "Isaac and his two boyfriends" lmao. However, Joachim would not create that competitive environment Dracula did, the opposite in fact, which might allow the two boys to relax around each other and rekindle that old friendship they had as kids. I like the idea of Joachim seeing himself in Hector (arrogant but so vulnerable to the manipulations of a bastard vampire lord who is keeping him in a cage of sorts) and so gently trying to steer him away from Dracula. Maybe they wouldn't fall in love, they're not each other's type at all, but they could grow close.

also i still haven't grasped joachim on that front but i have my headcanons on hector and isaac's lax/concerning relationship with sex and good luck to the vampire trying to fix it :P

This has turned into a incoherent rant lmao, I'm still trying to sort my opinions here 😂

[tlbodine]

The Horror Genius of Five Nights At Freddy’s

I’ve been playing FNAF: Help Wanted VR on my Oculus Quest lately (a birthday present to myself -- I know I’m late to that party!) and it’s reignited in me my old love of this series. I know Scott Cawthon’s politics aren’t great, but I don’t think there’s any malice in his heart beyond usual Christian conservative nonsense -- and I think he stepped down as graciously and magnanimously as possible when confronted about it. Time will judge Scott Cawthon’s politics, and that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I want to talk about what makes these games so damn special, from a horror, design, and marketing perspective. I think there’s really SO MUCH to be learned from studying these games and the wider influence they’ve had as intellectual property. 

What Is FNAF? 

In case you’ve somehow been living under a rock for the last seven years, Five Nights At Freddy’s (hereafter, FNAF) is a horror franchise spanning 17 games (10 main games + some spinoffs and troll games, we’ll get to that), 27 books, a movie deal, and a couple live-action attractions. 

But before it exploded into that kind of tremendous IP, it started out as a single indie pont-and-click game created entirely by one dude, Scott Cawthon. Cawthon had developed other games in the past without much fame or success, including some Christian children’s entertainment. He was working as a cashier at Dollar General and making games in his spare time -- and most of those games got panned. 

So he tried making something different. 

After being criticized that the characters in one of his children’s games looked like soulless, creepy animatronics, Cawthon had his lightbulb moment and created a horror game centered on....creepy animatronics! 

The rest, as they say, is history. 

The Genius of FNAF’s Horror Elements

In the first FNAF game, you play as a night security guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, a sort of ersatz Chuck-E-Cheese establishment. The animatronics are on free-roaming mode at night, but you don’t want to let them find you in your security room so you have to watch them move through the building on security camera monitors. If they get too close, you can slam your security room doors closed. But be careful, because this restaurant operates on a shoestring budget, and the power will go off if you keep the doors closed too long or flicker the lights too often. And once the lights go out, you’re helpless against the animatronics in the dark. 

Guiding you through your gameplay is a fellow employee, Phone Guy, who calls you each night with some helpful advice. Phone Guy is voiced by Cawthon himself, and listening to his tapes gives you some hints of the game’s underlying story as well as telling you how to play. A few newspaper clippings and other bits of scrap material help to fill in more details of the story. 

Over the next set of games, the story would be further developed, with each new game introducing new mechanics and variations on the theme -- in one, you don a mask to slip past the notice of animatronics; in another, you have to play sound cues to lure an animatronic away from you. By the fourth game, the setup was changed completely, now featuring a child with a flashlight hiding from the monsters outside his door -- nightmarish versions of the beloved child-friendly mascots. The mechanics change just enough between variations to keep things fresh while maintaining a consistent brand. 

There are so many things these games do well from a storytelling and horror perspective: 

Jump Scares: It’s easy to shrug these games off for relying heavily on jump scares, and they absolutely do have a lot of them. But they’re used strategically. In most games, the jump scares are a punishment (a controlled shock, if you will) -- if you play the game perfectly, you’ll never be jump-scared. This is an important design choice that a lot of other horror games don’t follow. 

Atmospheric Dread: These games absolutely deliver horror and tension through every element of design -- some more than others, admittedly. But a combination of sound cues, the overall texture and aesthetic of the world, the “things move when you’re not looking at them” mechanic, all of it works together to create a feeling of unease and paranoia. 

Paranoia: As in most survival horror games, you’re at a disadvantage. You can’t move or defend yourself, really -- all you can do is watch. And so watch you do. Except it’s a false sense of security, because flicking lights and checking cameras uses up precious resources, putting you at greater risk. So you have to balance your compulsive need to check, double-check, and make sure...with methodical resource conservation. The best way to survive these games is to remain calm and focused. It’s a brilliant design choice. 

Visceral Horror: The monster design of the animatronics is absolutely delightful, and there’s a whole range of them to choose from. The sheer size and weight of the creatures, the way they move and position themselves, their grunginess, the deadness of their eyes, the quantity and prominence of their teeth. They are simultaneously adorable and horrifying. 

Implicit Horror: One of the greatest strengths to FNAF as a franchise is that it never wears its story on its sleeve. Instead of outright telling you what’s going on, the story is delivered in bits and pieces that you have to put together yourself -- creating a puzzle for an engaged player to think about and theorize over and consider long after the game is done. But more than that, the nature of the horror itself is such that it becomes increasingly upsetting the more you think on it. The implications of what’s going on in the game world -- that there are decaying bodies tucked away inside mascots that continue to perform for children, that a man dressed in a costume is luring kids away into a private room to kill them, and so forth -- are the epitome of fridge horror. 

The FNAF lore does admittedly start to become fairly ridiculous and convoluted as the franchise wears on. But even ret-conned material manages to be pretty interesting in its own right (and there is nothing in the world keeping you from playing the first four games, or even the first six, and pretending none of the rest exist). 

Another thing I really appreciate about the FNAF franchise is that it’s quite funny, in a way that complements and underscores the horror rather than detracting from it. It’s something a lot of other properties utterly fail to do. 

The Genius of Scott Cawthon’s Marketing 

OK, so FNAF utilizes a multi-prong attack for creating horror and implements it well -- big deal. Why did it explode into a massive IP sensation when other indie horror games that are just as well-made barely made a blip on the radar? 

Well! That’s where the real genius comes in. This game was built and marketed in a way to maximize its franchisability. 

First, the story utilizes instantly identifiable, simple but effective character designs, and then generates more and more instantly identifiable unique characters with each iteration. Having a wealth of characters and clever, unique designs basically paves the way for merchandise and fan-works. (That they’re anthropomorphic animal designs also probably helped -- because that taps into the furry fandom as well without completely alienating non-furries). 

Speaking of fan-work, Scott Cawthon has always been very supportive of fandom, only taking action when people would try to profit off knock-off games and that sort of thing -- basically bad-faith copies. But as far as I know he’s always been super chill with fan-created content, even going so far as to engage directly with the fandom. Which brings me to....

These games were practically designed for streaming, and he took care to deliver them into the hands of influential streamers. Because the games are heavy on jump-scares and scale in difficulty (even including extra-challenging modes after the core game is beaten) they are extremely fun to watch people play. They’re short enough to be easily finished over the duration of a long stream, and they’re episodic -- lending themselves perfectly to a YouTube Lets Play format. One Night = One Video, and now the streamer has weeks of content from your game (but viewers can jump in at any time without really missing much). 

The games are kid-friendly but also genuinely frightening. Because the most disturbing parts of the game’s lore are hinted at rather than made explicit, younger players can easily engage with the game on a more basic surface level, and others can go as deep into the lore as they feel comfortable. There is no blood and gore and violence or even any explicitly stated death in the main game; all of the murder and death is portrayed obliquely by way of 8-bit mini games and tangential references. Making this game terrifying but accessible to youngsters, and then marketing it directly to younger viewers through popular streamers (and later, merchandising deals) is genius -- because it creates a very broad potential audience, and kids tend to spend 100% of their money (birthdays, allowances, etc.) and are most likely to tell their friends about this super scary game, etc. etc.

By creating a puzzle box of lore, and then interacting directly with the fandom -- dropping hints, trolling, essentially creating an ARG of his own lore through his website, in-game easter eggs, and tie-in materials -- Cawthon created a mystery for fandom to solve. And fans LOVE endlessly speculating over convoluted theories. 

Cawthon released these games FAST. He dropped FNAF 2 within months of the first game’s release, and kept up a pace of 1-2 games a year ever since. This steady output ensured the games never dropped out of public consciousness -- and introducing new puzzle pieces for the lore-hungry fans to pore over helped keep the discussion going. 

I think MatPat and The Game Theorists owe a tremendous amount of their own huge success to this game. I think Markiplier does, too, and other big streamers and YouTubers. It’s been fascinating watching the symbiotic relationship between these games and the people who make content about these games. Obviously that’s true for a lot of fandom -- but FNAF feels so special because it really did start so small. It’s a true rags-to-riches sleeper hit and luck absolutely played a role in its growth, but skill is a big part too. 

Take-Aways For Creatives 

I want to be very clear here: I do not think that every piece of media needs to be “IP,” franchisable, an extended universe, or a multimedia sensation. I think there is plenty to be said for creating art of all types, and sometimes that means a standalone story with a small audience. 

But if you do want a chance at real break-out, run-away success and forging a media empire of your own, I think there are some take-aways to be learned from the success of FNAF: 

Persistence. Scott Cawthon studied animation and game-design in the 1990s and released his first game in 2002. He released a bunch of stuff afterward. None of it stuck. It took 12 years to hit on the winning formula, and then another several years of incredibly hard work to push out more titles and stoke the fires before it really became a sensation. Wherever you’re at on your creative journey, don’t give up. You never know when your next thing will be The Thing that breaks you out. 

If you want to sell a lot of something, you have to make it widely appealing to a bunch of people. This means keeping your concept simple to understand (”security guard wards off creepy killer animatronics at a pizza parlor”) and appealing to as wide a segment of the market as you can (ie, a horror story that appeals to both kids and adults). The more hyper-specific your audience, the harder it’s gonna be to find them and the fewer copies of your thing you’ll be selling. 

Know your shit and put your best work out there. I think there’s an impulse to feel like “well, nobody reads this anyway, so why does it matter if it’s no good” (I certainly have fallen into that on multiple occasions) but that’s the wrong way to think about it. You never know when and where your break will come. Put your best work out there and keep on polishing your craft with better and better stuff because eventually one of those things you chuck out there is going to be The Thing. 

Figure out where your target audience hangs out, and who influences them, and then get your thing in the hands of those influencers. Streaming and YouTube were the secret to FNAF’s success. Maybe yours will be BookTube, or Instagram, or a secret cabal of free librarians. I don’t know. But you should try your best to figure out who would like the thing that you’re making, and then figure out how to reach those people, and put all of your energy into that instead of shotgun-blasting your marketing all willy nilly. 

You don’t have to put the whole story on the page. Audiences love puzzles. Fans love mysteries. You can actually leave a lot more unanswered than you think. There’s some value in keeping secrets and leaving things for others to fill in. Remember -- your art is only partly yours. The sandbox belongs to others to play in, too, and you have to let them do that. 

If in doubt, appealing to furries never hurts. 

Do I take all of this advice myself? Not by a long shot. But it’s definitely a lot to think about. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go beat The Curse of Dreadbear. 

[necropxlis]

That’s My Girl (Kenma x Reader)

A/N: The reader is female. This was based off of something that happened to me while playing a game with someone. So I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,785

Tagging: @missingmystogan​

“Just cap the point I have my super! PLEASE! UGGGHHHH.”

Dropping the controller, you leaned back in the gaming chair Kenma bought for you. Back when he first introduced you to all of his viewers on Youtube and Twitch, it seemed the content you both made was highly demanded. So with the idea set in stone, he bought you a whole new setup and turned the spare bedroom into your gaming studio (with Kenma’s being right beside yours because of easy access.)

The two of you thought today would be a great day to do a little recording for Youtube and just hang out and have some fun. However, your competitive side was showing, and with the fact that every game you have played so far ended in you taking that L, just started to push your buttons. Kenma noticed you were getting frustrated with your losing streak and the bad reputation of picking up horrible teammates. The silence in the lobby party was deafening, trying to decide if one more game was worth your sanity or not. For heavens sakes, you just lost a game that could have turned around if someone just put their foot on the capture point.

“One more game.” Kenma’s voice echoed through the headset.

You sighed, “Babe, I don’t know if I can handle another game right now.”

“Just one more game,” Kenma laughed picturing the glare you were probably giving him through the walls, “let’s do a 2v2 and if we end up losing then we will call it a day. I’ll scrap all the footage and we can just cuddle and watch anime all night. Does that sound like a deal?”

You thought about it for a second. The thought of actually just throwing the game was tempting. Knowing your boyfriend, even if you did win the game, he would still give you all the affection you desired.

“Alright. One more game. Only if we can have takeout.”

Kenma laughed at your request but agreed knowing that you would eventually have your way. With a newfound spirit, you launched the 2v2 match. The stakes were high. Food was on the line. Your mental health was on the line. Even the sake of Kenma’s YouTube video was on the line. You had to bring your A-game. The game finally loaded in with two other random players on the opposite team. For a while, the game was pretty even. Your team would win a round and the opposite team would win the next one.

It was now match point, the opposite team had two wins and your team had two wins. Whoever could capture the point or make the other team run out of lives takes home the gold. Your hands were starting to get sweaty. This was the moment your pride was riding on (not only your pride but your sanity as well.) Inhaling sharply you focused on the task at hand, getting the team down on lives. You pushed the stick on the controller to make your character walk around the corner of a building. One of the enemy players was focusing on killing Kenma, so you lit them up with a magazine, successfully killing the enemy. Only, for the other teammate to get its revenge by sniping you.

“I am this close to breaking my controller.” You said gritting your teeth.

“The game is almost over, baby. We can do this.”

Kenma had so much hope in you. A swirl of happiness began to blossom inside of you. The praise only fueled your motivation to win this game. The game went on for a while longer, both sides equally pulling your life count down to 1 life per team. The game was getting annoyed at how slow both teams were taking, so it placed the capture point in the middle of the map. You had just respawned back into the game when Kenma died again. He groaned in frustration as he tried to round the corner to capture the point, but both players on the opposite team used their supers on him. A smirk made its way onto your face as you thought of a grandmaster plan. Kenma took the same route to the capture point, while you decided to use the flank.

Running up the middle of the map, Kenma was shot down before he even got near the point. There was no way you could take on both players without getting double-teamed and if you died, that was it you had no more lives. You hid around the corner, being able to see the players on the point, but them not being able to see you.

“Kenma, run up the middle again.”

“Baby, we could lose it here.” Kenma said exasperated.

You scoffed and let out a little chuckle, “Just trust me. When they start shooting at you, dodge and hide behind a pillar. I got this.”

Kenma, although a little worried, trusted you and followed through with your plan. He followed his same path and ran towards the point. He began to fire on the team 1 on 2. The team was completely unaware of you sneaking behind them. The reason for your master plan was due to your super being so closed to being charged. Kenma was a little early so you began to panic. You couldn’t let him die. If he died there was no way you would be able to win. The team still didn't notice your presence.

“Whatever you're gonna do, Y/N, do it now!” Kenma said.

Kenma’s character dodged behind a pillar and you knew now was your chance. You made your character jump in the air and popped your super. The super you had equipped was a giant laser beam that was way too overpowered at times. This was one of those times. The enemy team turned around, but it was too late for them to do anything about the giant blue laser. You slaughtered both teammates in one shot and landed on the capture point when your super subsided. Nothing hit you yet, you were too “in the zone.”

“Holy shit, that's my girl.” He said laughing and running onto the capture point with you.

The other team, having had both players die, had no more lives left. There were only 20 seconds left in the game and it was looking to be in your favor. However, no matter how happy you both were, you still had a chance to lose. Turning around the corner the 2 players on the opposite team were heading your way. You both held them off as much as you could until the game stopped. You and Kenma had captured the point and ultimately won the game. You began to laugh. Somehow, miraculously, you managed to kill the losing streak. Kenma was silent for a minute. Then out of nowhere, he began to laugh as well. The both of you are just absolutely shocked over what just happened. You heard some rustling over on your boyfriends' end, but you were too busy laughing to notice. The door to your room opened showing your boyfriend with a stunned expression. You took your headset off and threw your arms in the air signaling your victory. Kenma smirked, running over to you and engulfing you in a huge hug. The both of you a giggling mess. Your boyfriend tilted his head and smothered your face in kisses.

You squealed and tried pushing away from him only for him to chase your lips. Capturing you in a sweet and loving kiss. His lips were soft against yours, every movement took your breath away. Slowly parting from the pudding-haired man, a smile spread across both of your faces. Kenma chuckled and brushed a bit of hair behind your ear.

“That was so badass.” He said cupping your cheeks.

“I am badass.” You said smirking.

Kenma laughed and kissed your nose before letting you go. He walked to the doorway, turning back to look at you with so much love in those golden cat-like eyes. You giggled and threw your peach stress ball, that you had resting on your desk, at him. He quickly ran out the door and back to his office. Laughing, you put your headset back on and made sure you could still hear everything. There was more rustling on the other end, signaling you that your partner was back.

“You know I was recording all of that?”

“If you delete any of that I will murder you.” You said smirking.

Kenma doubled over laughed and agreed that he wouldn’t delete the footage. What you didn’t know, was that he had turned the camera on in your room before you got in there. A couple of days passed before Kenma uploaded the video to YouTube. Being the supportive person that you are, you watched the video. Unbeknownst to you, the entire interaction began to play across your screen. Part of you wanted to hide out of embarrassment; but seeing how the comment section gave you both nothing but love and support, you couldn’t help but love your geek of a boyfriend even more. Even if he was a sly little devil sometimes. 

Extra: (That same night.) After paying for your take out, you cuddled up next to your boyfriend with your favorite anime playing on the big tv in the living room. Kenma smiled wrapping his arms around you and placing a quick kiss to your cheek. You smiled and continued eating your take out.

“You know, I was scared there for a moment. Didn't think your plan would work.” He said turning back towards the tv.

You stopped eating and stared at the man, “You had no faith in me?!”

Kenma shrugged as a smirk tugged at his lips. You scoffed and gathered your food, quickly walking to your bedroom and locking the door behind you. Your boyfriend was right on your heels but a second too slow. 

“Come on, Y/N. I was just kidding. Please open up, baby.”

“No. No cuddles for you.”

Kenma sighed and tried not to laugh at you adorable temper tantrum. No matter how much he apologized for picking on you, he ended up having to sleep on the couch that night.

The next morning he woke by the smell of eggs and pancakes. Opening his eyes, there was a tray with breakfast on it. Beside the plate of food there was a little card with his name on it. Picking up the card he noticed your adorable handwriting.

“Sorry for getting mad at you. Can I have cuddles? - Y/N”

Kenma laughed and got up to make his way to you. After all you were his girl.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3. 

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 

------------------------------------------------

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

---------------------------------------------------

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.  

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.  

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’  

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’  

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

[dumbdotcomm]

something about the rain

(a/n) i had the most fun time writing this fic for @sassatello and their amazing oc, Adrian!! thank u so so much for letting me write him and donnie!!! love u!

//

Donnie remembers seeing space for the first time, wide-eyed and curious, only sixteen and terrified. It would have almost been perfect, had it not been for the mind probing and electrocution and shit.

But in spite of it all, being in the depths of space was probably the most exhilarating, awe-inspiring, fantastical thing and there were an awful lot of perks about floating through stars literally and saving and liberating and all that. 

It had its ups and downs, Donnie had to admit. And now he’s a little bit more removed from the trauma of his last intergalactic encounters. He’s not sixteen, he’s not even a teenager anymore, and so he’s sort of learning how to detangle himself from the awful shit he’s been through.

And maybe the universe has kinda given Don a reason to move forward. 

Like it got very, very tired of seeing Donnie destructively bury all of his stress until it made him physically sick. So it gave him something that would kill him if he ever let that happen.

That universal gift is named Adrian. And he’s fucking insanely the greatest. 

////

Going through District TZ-3 is hell. But it’s the best way to Zrt•vn. 

On this edge of the galaxy it snows. Though it looks more like ash the further towards the epicenter of the planet they get. 

The flakes fall slowly and some stop suspended in the air, rotating on an axis as they melt, and rocks float through them, falling down to the ground. They bounce off the shuttle and dent the sides, skipping back into the moving sea of snow and ash. 

The storm lasts a while and the wind rolls the snow and ash and rocks form like waves, over the wings of the space shuttle, rocking it softly. 

Inside, Adrian watches, his eyes lost in the swell of waves, fingers pressed lightly against the glass windows; something is aching in him, picking at him as a familiar kind of thing, as he looks out into the flakes that spun so slowly to the waves. 

It was one of those things, he guessed- like when he saw the Guide maps with all of these galaxies and planets and worlds and he'd look real, real hard at one of the planets, green and blue and huge, and know it instantly. Donnie’s planet. 

Donnie calls that place home so naturally; no uncertainty in the way he claims that world, and Adrian knows that as much as he’s tried to- he knows he doesn’t belong there fully. 

That he’ll never have the contentment Donnie so easily possessed. It drove him crazy thinking about how someone could be so grounded and yet such an incredible dreamer. 

And how someone who dreamed so hugely for others couldn’t even make sure he got more than three hours of sleep a night. 

It’s wonderfully out of reach to Adrian. Donnie’s always been one notch above him in that way. 

And as he watches Don fight sleep at the control of their ship, Adrian adds Earth, belonging- and Donatello- to the plethora of things that he can't get out of his head. 

///

It takes only another half hour for Donnie to stop blinking away exhaustion and just full on pass out at the helm, his head officially connecting with the control panel and sending their teeny explore ship zooming through the sea of snow and ash. 

Adrain only lets himself completely chortle over it once he knows they’re definitely not gonna crash, and that Donnie definitely didn’t hurt his forehead. 

“‘M okay…. ‘m okay, really,” Donnie mumbles, blindly swatting Adrian away because that’s convincing, “Just resting... my eyes.” 

“Like hell you are,” Adrian snickers, and hefts Donnie up as best he can, Don’s sleepy eyes blinking open to find his, cheeks all droopy and shit, “Don’t think Raph didn’t tell me about you pulling, like, an all-weeker.”

There’s cots in the back, a small tucked away space Adrian sorta designed himself, filled with a collection of things he’s picked up from dozens of planets he’s traveled to on his journey to come pick Don up. 

They’ve known each other for a good while now, a real good while. Enough for Adrian to know that Donnie’s bound to be feeling kinda shitty this week because their little talks of late have been nothing but Don being grumpy and self-deprecating through little soft spoken jabs at his worth. 

And so Adrian stopped his work and his planet-hopping and came to scoop his best friend up, finding a nice little corner of this district with just the best scrapped tech and organisms worth studying. 

And a long enough travel time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. 

He gets Donnie onto the cot and watches him sink instantly into it with a content sigh, a smile following it. Mission accomplished, Adrian goes to stand, only pausing when his wrist is tugged, caught in Donnie’s grip. 

“This means nothing…” Donnie yawns, “You just wanna drive.” 

Adrian hopes Don can’t feel his pulse, that he’s too out of it to notice the way Adrian freezes up, breath caught in his throat. 

“Get sleep, dummy,” he forces out, patting the side of Donnie’s face affectionately before closing the curtains to the cots.

He settles down in Don’s spot at the controls, resting his chin in his palms and breathing out wistfully. 

/////

Neither of them are the best at preparing meals, and preserving food on a space shuttle isn’t the easiest, but there’s something about eating next to the best person you know that makes bologna and colby jack cheese sandwiches taste exponentially better. 

They touch down on Zrt•vn earlier than they estimated, and rising suns are a marvel.

“I cannot believe Earth has like, only one sun,” Adrian says around a mouthful of bologna and cheese, “That’s drab.”

Donnie snorts, brushing the crumbs off his thighs, “It is drab. I mean, it’s beautiful...but compared to this?”

He gestures to the horizon, a blaze of brilliant purples and oranges. Adrian loves this most of all- seeing Donnie so amazed, seeing all the things Adrian himself might feel are mundane shine so beautifully through Donnie’s eyes. 

Eyes that light up, still, in spite of all the horrors he’s been through.

It’s extraordinary. 

Extraordinary. 

“I’d love to study the UVs- I mean that’s definitely not my field of study but geez….it’s gotta be a whole different setup here.”

Adrian nudges Donnie softly, “‘Field of study’ my ass… you have a gillion fields of study.” 

He subconsciously wonders if he shoved too hard, or too softly- was it too weird? Ill-timed? Jesus, he was overthinking, spending too much time with this goof, and Adrian would be damned if he started second guessing himself around Don like this. 

“I actually don’t dabble in a ton of fields. I wish I had the time anymore...there’s just so much to retain, you know?” Donnie says, every attempt at flirtation going above his head as he smiles softly and aloofly at Adrian. 

“Yeah… yeah I feel ya,” is what Adrian murmurs back, unable to completely detach himself from Donnie’s stupid big ass brown eyes. 

They hold a stare for what feels like an eternity, before Donnie blinks and lets out a laugh that cuts through Adrian’s thoughts.

He goes to stand, offering a hand to Adrian, “Guess we better get this exploring on, right?”

Adrian takes it, swallowing hard and getting to his feet too, offering Donnie a lopsided smile, “Early bird gets the worm!”

Donnie’s grin widens, he doesn’t let go of Adrian’s hand.

“Hey, lookit you! Picking up on lowly Earthling terms,” he teases, poking at Adrian’s plastron. 

It pierces right to the heart, and Adrian can’t get a normal rhythm back the whole time they suit up, not with the way Donnie stays so close to him the entire time. 

////

On this planet, it rains. Just when the suns rise and just as they make it out the ship, the clouds roll in thick and heavy and dark, and the precipitation starts. 

In the darkness patrol lights from ships in search of spare parts sway across the dirt, and they hide, Adrian and Don, search goggles glowing in the heavy blackness. The sky lights up with dying stars that burst quietly from miles away, their dust falling onto them right alongside the rain, making the downpour harder. 

Still, from afar, the sky is pink and purple, and even in this, there’s beauty to be found. But Donnie can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Maybe if he’d just slept back home and didn’t freaking pass out on Adrian, maybe if he got up sooner they’d- 

A hand rests heavy on Donnie’s shoulder, startling him out of his racing spiral of self pity and loathing. His eyes snap up and Adrian comes into view, his lips moving before sound even registers to Donnie. 

“-ood? I can go find- find the ship if you’re not feeling good, I’m so sorry, shoulda double checked the weather…”

Donnie takes a gulping breath and blinks away the heat behind his eyes. 

“I’m okay…” he says, as confidently as he can, because he is, now, “And don’t be silly, Adrian, it’s a mess out here...you could get hurt or...really wet or...you know…”

As stupid as he feels, Adrian’s slowly spreading grin somehow pacifies the feeling, and Donnie finds himself rubbing the heat from his neck.

“X’vr’s forbid I get wet now,” Adrian jokes, his hand falling from Donnie’s shoulder, but it still hovers beside his arm, “But we shouldn’t split...this rock’s a pretty great cover for now.”

Donnie chuckles breathily, surveying the storm happening around them, “Yeah...yeah I guess it is. Sorry I panicked- I mean, I- I don’t know. I fucked this up...we could’ve been done scavenging if I hadn’t-”

Adrian looks a cross between hurt and confused and it’s a look powerful enough to shut Donnie up a little.

“And now I’m making shit worse by...rambling like this,” he mumbles guiltily, wringing his hands. 

There’s only a few heartbeats of silence where Donnie’s sure Adrian is gonna chew him out for being so...himself. But that’s a stupid thing to think, actually. Because Adrian’s face softens into a smile. 

“You didn’t make nothin’ worse, Donnie,” Adrian says, his voice quiet but firm enough that it overpowers the sound of the pouring rain, “You couldn’t have...because as shitty as this rainstorm is...it’s kinda pointless ‘cause I’m. I don’t really care, as long as I’m with you.”

At his admission, Donnie stops wringing his hands. He just stops...everything really. He blinks slowly. “You...well, I mean-” he tries searching for his words, because surely Adrian is just- “That’s...that’s really nice of you to say but-”

“Don,” Adrian says, more loudly, more certain, and holds Donnie by his shoulders this time, “I’m not… ‘being nice’ or some shit. I like being near you.”

Donnie’s eyes widen, the silly, lovely lost look in them subsiding as realization takes its place. 

And without taking his eyes off Donnie, Adrian presses the release to his helmet, searching Don’s face breathlessly. “Can I kiss you?” he asks around this huge, wonderful smile.

Donnie’s only half-sure that he nods, and still unable to form words he undoes his helmet too, his lips meeting Adrian’s within seconds- half of seconds. The embrace is warm and strong and frames by overeager and overjoyed smiles. 

And Donnie silently thanks the universe for this, for this wild gift he’s been given- for yet another beautiful thing to live for. 

[girls-scenarios]

Your Name on My Heart

Idol: Lua (Weki Meki)

Prompt: Could you do a WeMe Lua soulmate(?) scenario where everyone has their soulmate’s names on their wrist but Lua was born without it

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Picky Picky is a bop y’all. But being a Lua stan means living off scraps and the behind the scenes videos. Sigh. When will she be given the lines and attention she deserves? Anyway, stan Weki Meki and I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: I also kind of made this a college au so there’s some drinking, some getting high, and some mentions of getting laid but no actual getting laid.

♡ Tip Jar♡ 

When Lua was born without a name on her wrist, her parents weren’t too worried. After all, it was normal for kids to not get their name until puberty sometimes. Both of her parents had been late to get each other’s name on their wrist, so it was hardly something to make a big deal about. They took her home and didn’t notice anything was wrong. Her classmates didn’t notice, either, not at first. She just figured she was a little late.

But as she started to get older and nothing showed up, people began to notice. Her friends started to ask her where her soulmate’s name was, and she noticed her parents whispering behind their hands when they thought she wasn’t listening, voices worried. On her fifteenth birthday, her parents took her to the doctor, and she knew something had to be wrong.

They ran tests on her, rubbed at the skin and made her look at photos and spit into tubes, only for the doctor to come back and sigh as he flipped through his papers.

“Well, it could either be that she doesn’t have a soulmate,” he said, shaking his head, “or she could have a disorder we call Carpi Praesent. Basically, this would mean that the name on her wrist won’t show up until she’s shared a kiss with her soulmate.”

“A kiss?” Her mother let out a little cry and sunk into the chair, face white. Immediately, her father took her hand, trying to calm her down, while Lua stared at the papers in the doctor’s hand, her mind reeling. She didn’t have a soulmate. Tears pricked at the sides of her eyes and she found herself crying as the doctor reached over to put a hand on her shoulder and her father handed her tissues.

“This doesn’t mean you can’t be happy one day, Lua. But it does mean that your life might be a little bit harder than everyone else’s. You’re a strong girl, aren’t you? You’ll be okay.”

She wasn’t a strong girl. She knew she wasn’t, because these words hurt her, and looking at her parents hurt even worse, because she knew she might never have this. But she had to be strong, so she nodded her head and willed herself to stop crying as her mother asked the doctor if it was because of something she did while she was pregnant.

After the doctor’s visit, Lua told her friends that she had a disease where the name wouldn’t show up. What she didn’t say was that she might not have a soulmate, because she didn’t want anyone else to know. It made her mother cry at night, and it made her father’s hair go grey in places, and it made her grandmother look at her with pity in her eyes, so Lua couldn’t bear for anyone else to know. If anyone had to be hurt, it should be her, not her friends.

So she grinned and pretended that everything was okay, even if she was crying inside.

-

Years later, Lua had gotten a lot more used to not having a soulmate. Sure, she looked at her coworkers and her friends and saw them with their soulmates and felt a little bit jealous, but she didn’t take it so personally anymore. She worked hard to gain respect and not be known for her lack of a soulmate. Medical school was hard, but she didn’t have to worry about love or a relationship or anything outside of school, so she didn’t really mind it. When people asked her why she was going into medicine, she just shrugged and told them that it was because she was interested in it. She didn’t say that it was because she didn’t want anyone else to suffer like she did when she was younger.

Then she met you.

It was pure coincidence, really. You weren’t in medical school, but somehow, the two of you had ended up volunteering for the same school fundraiser and had been put at a table together. You were a fairly upbeat person with a nice smile and a friendly personality, and Lua found it amazing how quickly the two of you clicked. It was just easy to talk to you, almost like she’d known you her entire life. The two of you spent the entire fundraiser talking, and after it was done and the sun had long disappeared, you typed your number into her phone and told her to text with you a smile. And as she walked back to her dorm, looking down at your name in her phone, she found that she really wanted to.

Even though the two of you were in completely different areas of study, it just became habit to meet up in the mess hall for lunch between classes. Sometimes the two of you chatted, complaining about professors and homework loads, and other times the two of you studied together, just happy to be with each other as you worked. It was a weird dynamic, but it worked. Lua never felt awkward around you. The two of you could sit silently in a room together and still feel comfortable, and Lua liked that. Liked being around you. She tried not to think too much about what that could mean.

A few times, the thought of dating you popped into her head, and she realized that she’d never seen your wrist mark. But she would quickly dismiss it as coincidence every time, not wanting to get her hopes up over nothing. So the two of you danced around each other, staying friends even if her other friends thought it was weird, neither of you taking the next step.

That is, until the party.

“Hey, are you busy Friday night?” You asked her, looking up from your textbook to lock eyes with her. She was laying on her bed, reading up on terms for her next exam while you occupied her desk, a normal setup for the two of you whenever you studied in her room. She blinked, trying to think about what her schedule looked like. She was pretty sure she was free, but....

“Why?”

You looked a little bit nervous as you shrugged your shoulders, but she hardly recognized it. “Oh, one of my friends is throwing a party to celebrate the end of midterms. I thought I’d ask you to come with me. It’s cool if you’re busy though.”

“I think I’m free. Is it going to be a big party?” She closed her book, biting her lip. She’d never been to anything other than small parties with her friends where they all drank a little bit and played games and watched movies. When it came to big college parties, she was in the dark. You laughed softly and nodded your head, making her heart jump a bit.

“Yeah, she’s in a sorority, so it’s going to be pretty huge.”

“I’ve never been to a party like that,” she admitted to you, giving you a sheepish smile. “I guess I’m a bad college student.”

“Don’t say that! I’ve honestly only been to a few myself, but they were both fun so I thought I’d ask you to come along this time. But if you aren’t comfortable I’m not going to force you to come.”

She looked down at her sheets and thought about it for a moment. As intimidating as the idea of a big party was, she found herself wanting to go with you. What was the worst that could happen? “No, I’ll come. What time is it?”

-

It took her a while to decide what to wear, but she decided on a pair of skinny jeans and one of her favorite pink crop-tops, pulling her newly-dyed hair back into a ponytail. She was in the middle of deciding how to do her makeup when her roommate came back and gave her a look.

“Where are you going?” Elly asked, tossing her bag onto her bed. Lua had known Elly for a while, since high school, so she knew that Elly knew she didn’t do these things. Still, she let out an awkward laugh and picked up a lip gloss, carefully applying it to her lips. Did she look kissable? Why did she even care?

“(Y/N) invited me to a party their sorority friend is throwing,” she said, turning her attention to her earrings. “So I’m going with them.”

“Oh. That’s interesting. Have fun and don’t get too smashed. Call me if you need someone to pick you up.” Elly didn’t sound too surprised, which in turn surprised Lua. She turned around, eyebrows raised.

“You aren’t going to tell me not to go?”

“Nah. They’re fun, I’ve been to a few. Plus you’re going with (Y/N) and I trust them,” she said, sitting down on her bed, and Lua slowly put her earrings down.

“Oh. Uh, is my outfit okay for a party like this?”

“Yeah, only freshmen get really dressed up for parties. You look good, don’t worry about it and get out there. Just stay safe and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Didn’t you drunkenly make out with Suyeon before you knew she was your soulmate at a party once?”

“Hey! Shut up, who told you about that?”

“Suyeon.”

“Goddammit, I told her that I’m supposed to be the responsible one so she can’t just go airing my party animal freshman year to you guys!” Elly huffed and pulled out her phone, and Lua laughed, quickly grabbing her phone. It was always fun to tease the older girl. It made her nerves calm down a little, and she took one last look at her appearance before heading to the door.

“Bye, I’ll be home eventually!”

“Oh whatever. Go get laid!”

“Elly!”

The air was a little more chilly than she’d expected it to be, and she shivered a bit as she walked out the door. You were standing in front of her dorm building, and you smiled as you saw her. As she stepped down to stand beside you, she swallowed slightly. You looked nice, hair done and wearing tight pants much like she was. She tried to chase Elly’s words from earlier away.

“Ready?” You asked, and she nodded, giving you a grin.

“Ready.”

She hadn’t been ready. She liked to think that she had a pretty high alcohol tolerance, but whatever had been in the red cups shoved into your hands at the door had tasted like cleaning fluids and already had her feeling tipsy. The music was loud, and she didn’t even know where it was coming from, but it made the entire house shake every time the base was played, and she already had a headache, but the alcohol made it a little more bearable.

She found herself in the kitchen alone, blinking in confusion over how she’d gotten there and where you’d gone. But a girl who looked vaguely familiar named Sejeong shoved another drink into her hands and yelled “get turnt” so she felt like she had to drink again. When you reappeared at her side, your cheeks were slightly flushed, and she was much less in control of her thoughts and feelings.

“How’s the party so far?” You asked, yelling over the music, and she grinned, leaning back against the counter.

“It’s fine. Better since you’re back.”

“Are you helpless without me?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been to one of these before, you know?”

“Okay, then I’ll stay by your side. But you have to promise to dance with me.” You caught her wrist, and her skin felt like it was on fire from the feeling of your fingertips.

“Dance?”

You giggled, and she liked the sound. “That’s what you do at these things.”

“Oh. Sure.”

The living room was a sea of bodies dancing to the music, and as you tugged her towards it, she felt a little nervous. But the liquid courage must have kicked in, because as soon as the song changed to something she knew, she let you pull her in closer. She knew how to dance, professionally, but this wasn’t anything like that. This was something much more sensual, bodies touching and pressing, and the air felt so hot that she was dizzy. But you were there in front of her, so she just let her foggy mind take control, her body moving, out of her own control.

The next thing she knew, the two of you were giggling and tripping into one of the rooms upstairs, and she fell back onto a bed that wasn’t hers and wasn’t yours, staring at the ceiling and trying to steady herself. Where was she again? She felt your weight sink into the bed beside her, and your head rested on her shoulder, making her feel hot all over again.

“(Y/N)?”

“I’m right here.” You sounded sleepy, and when she glanced over, she was able to make out that your eyes were closed, even in the darkness of the room.

“You’re a sleepy drunk.”

“No I’m not. I just wanted to close my eyes.” As if refuting your own statement, you yawned, making her giggle.

“Sure.”

“Well, you’re a weird drunk.”

“You have no proof.”

“No, I have lots of proof. This is the first time I’ve seen you let go. You’re always so serious and focused on school.”

Lua fell quiet, staring back up at the ceiling. It was true, she didn’t usually let herself go, not like this. She was always nervous, always worried about what people would think. It probably came with the fact that she’d been different all her life. “I let go all the time. Just the other day I danced to Gangnam Style with you.”

“You know what I mean.” She did know what you meant, so she shut up, closing her own eyes. She felt your hand come up to rest on her stomach, and her heart spiked. It was a gentle touch, but it was still too much, because she’d never felt anything like this before. She shouldn’t let herself fall like this. But she laid there and let you, blaming it on the fog in her head.

“Why do you hang out with me if I’m so serious and boring?” The question spilled out, and she regretted it for a moment as you stayed silent, drawing circles on her bare skin.

“I like you. We’re a lot alike.”

“Are we?”

“Yeah. You know, I was born without my soulmate mark too.” At your works, she froze, opening her eyes again. Suddenly, it made sense. Why you were always wearing long sleeves or something around your wrist.

“Really?”

“Really. I thought I was going to be alone forever. I thought I was the only one. But then I met you, and... I just had this connection to you. I wanted to be close to you forever.”

She swallowed as she felt her stomach twist, a strange yet familiar feeling welling up in her chest. It was fear. She was afraid. Just because neither of you had a name, that didn’t mean that you were the one for her. What if she got in the way? What if she hurt you? What if it didn’t work out? She felt like crying, because it was all so much. But also because she felt the same way about you, and she’d just never wanted to admit it. She’d never wanted to get her hopes up.

“There’s so many scary things,” she said aloud, voice soft and shaky, and she felt you shift your weight beside her.

“But if we don’t challenge those scary things, we might never know.” You were right, of course. You were always right. But that didn’t make it any less scary.

“I know. I want to. I’m just afraid.”

Your hand stalled on her stomach, and she closed her eyes tight again, waiting.

“Let me kiss you.” Your voice was firm, and it made her heart jump again.

“What?”

“Let me kiss you. Please. If we really have that disorder, you know the one. The one we’ve been told about our whole lives. If we really have it, kissing our soulmate is the only way to find out.” She opened her eyes to see that your face was only inches away from hers now, and your eyes were open and clear. She suddenly felt sober again as her mind ran through her options. She could be scared. She could back away, run away, run back to the not scary side of things and ruin what might be forever, but save herself from heartbreak. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to kiss you so bad it hurt.

So she turned her body to face you on that unfamiliar bed and faced her fears. “Go ahead. Kiss me.” You looked almost shocked at her words before you lunged forward, pressing your lips against hers. The feeling was foreign, because she’d never been kissed before, but she liked it. Slowly, as the need built up in her chest again, she began to kiss you back, moving her lips even though she was unsure and scared.

As soon as she began to kiss you back, you brought your hand up to the back of her neck and began to kiss her harder, pressing your body closer, and all her fear went out the window, lost in the fact that she was kissing you. You, who she’d fallen for so long ago and had been too afraid to admit it. She wrapped her arms around you, and let you climb on top of her, giving you more access to her mouth as her heart threatened to explode in her chest. Her entire body was hot, but there was something weird, a strange sensation on her hand. You must have felt it too, because you finally pulled away, both of you breathing hard. Even though you’d told her not to be afraid, she could see worry in your eyes as you paused, staring into her eyes.

“Should we check?” This time, Lua decided to be the brave one. She took a deep breath and pulled her hand from behind you to look. There, on her wrist, was your name in small letters. This time, when she felt like crying, she actually did, and you gasped. “Really? It’s really there?”

“It’s really there,” she whispered, showing you, and you slowly looked at your own wrist, only to burst into tears when you saw her name on your dominate hand.

“I’m so happy I don’t know what to do,” you said, wiping at your tears. She smiled and leaned up to press her forehead against yours, basking in this new feeling. She had a soulmate. She wasn’t broken after all. And she didn’t have to be afraid to love you anymore.

“Just stay here with me and kiss me some more.” The words made her feel giddy, and they made you smile through your tears, wrapping your arms around her again.

“I love you,” you said, closing your eyes, and she caressed your face before moving in to kiss you. She didn’t care about anything else but you: not the loud music, the sounds of people outside of the room, or how much Elly was going to gloat when she came home. She had you in her arms, and nothing else mattered as she turned to press you into the mattress, determined to show just how much she loved you, even if it took all night.

“I love you too.”

[colleydogstar]

A Ranger’s Tale - 10 -Breakfast at the Manor

Rhodie’s story continues.....

The first night after meeting with Silberschmidt has Rhodie lead to her room by a demure maid. A single guest room, though one that's bigger than the average hotel room. A single four poster bed dominated the room. Along with a chest, two end tables, a chair and smaller table. A trio of large mirrors on the wall, and art pieces dominate the remaining space. Leaving everything opulent, yet a little crowded feeling. The room itself is warm, though a window to the outside allows cool air and a view of the great forest falsely hidden in the industrious city of Estorly. And it's in that night that Rhodie gets one strong reminder that she isn't home. That there aren't modern entertainment devices to occupy her time.

Rhodie takes a look around the room, and lets out a short whistle. "Fancy arrangements, can't say I'm too surprised..." She does her best to make herself at least somewhat comfortable, but after a few minutes, can already start to feel herself getting antsy. This time of night she'd be in front of her computer desk editing videos, or working on an art stream. In the forest she could at least distract herself practicing the things the others were teaching her, but here... Something clicks in her mind however. Her skills in other things seem to improve majorly here, but what about stuff she already knew? She thinks, and then leans out the door to shout at the nearest servant. "Hey! One of you fetch me some paper and pencils or pens?" She may not have her computer, but there's always the old school method, and she wants to test something.

"Of course, miss Michaels." The supplies arrive quickly. Ink and pen set along with a ream of paper. It isn't good for mapping, something tells Rhodie that in the back of her head, as it's stationary, but it will do for the practice in the time being. "I will remain over here if you need anything," the maid informs Rhodie, leaving the room and true to her word, remaining there at an easy attention. A constant reminder to Rhodie of what could await her as the house continues to try to impress and impress upon the young woman.

She can sense it, like a voice in the back of her head telling her to follow in the maid's behavior. Persistent, and annoying. She thinks back to a technique her therapist in college taught her, associating intrusive thoughts with someone you would never agree with to make them easier to ignore. In her case, a very hateful grandmother. Visualizing her telling Rhodie to obey and submit prompts a small growl from her canine-like muzzle as she begins pushing back against the house. Looking at the maid when she returns, she remembers what she was told. Forceful, and on the rude side. "Go." She says to the maid and watches her leave. She drags a chair over to one of the tables, and sets out the supplies. "Ok.. let’s start with something basic... mapping later." She tells herself, before closing her eyes and getting a visual. With a nod to herself, she sets to work, beginning to try and sketch out Sgt. Donnel from memory.

Her hand moves lightly, deftly sketching lines across the page. Loose and freeflowing, the art comes easy at the expense of the flowing and sometimes difficult to control pen. The face comes, perhaps too easily making the curious connection between canine and human that demi's have. The facial structure as easy at the edge of her nose constantly in her point of view. like drawing someone like her. It finishes with a little past an hour gone by. The light in the room still up, and apparently from some unseen sources. A staunch reminder of the magic present all about the manor of Silberschmidt. The words have quieted some, with her concentration. Her confidence pushing away. Even as she sees herself in the mirrors in the room, at the reflection looking back at her.

Rhodie sits back as she reaches a finishing point. Looking at the image. Sketched, refined, even hatch shaded, in... an hour? She looks back at the drawing. Something like that would normally take her at least 2-3 to do properly before. The setter demi smirks to herself, and looks at her drawing hand. "OK then... we can work with that." She says as if talking to whatever magic is driving her skills. Rhodie goes to scratch her muzzle but then pauses. Looking over at the mirror, seeing the canine demihuman looking back at her. She grabs another page and begins to work on a self-portrait, well a former self-portrait. Things start off well, but as she goes, the figure looks less human, the hair looking styled more like her ears, the face a little bit too far out. She scraps the piece and tries again, and then a third time... each one just not quite working.... Rhodie sets the pen down and rubs at her face, lightly laughing. "Losing my mind or adapting my self-image?"

Crickets outside. The smell of cedar and pine. Sensory information flowing in as her mind ponders the potential of madness. Though what is madness when she can see herself staring, well, herself in the face. The night continues on. Sleep will come. The morning will come. Rhodie is left to her thoughts, and to consider what the others are up to as the night continues onward. It's not until the sun has broken the unseen horizon and cast a greying light of morning over the house that a knock comes at Rhodie's door. "Miss Michaels, you are wanted for breakfast. Do you need attending?"

Rhodie spends the rest of the evening drawing. The faces of her friends, places she has been, and even if the paper isn't the best for it, she works out a few maps, making notes of particular scents and things she observed that seemed of interest. Eventually crashing in the bed, her sleep is rough, feeling the house trying to intrude upon her in her dreams. As she hears the knocks, she lets out a groan. "You're not needed at this time," she growls. Following the habit she seemingly picked up from her first night in the world, Rhodie pushes up out of the bed, rear in the air, arms stretched forward as she lets out a large toothy yawn, before switching and pushing back with her legs, and up with her arms. Just keep telling yourself you're doing downward and upward dog yoga stretches, Rhodie. She rolls out of the bed, grabbing her dress, and throwing it back on. Just thankful she has any clothes of her own at this point, as she goes for the door, groggily opening it. "Breakfast is which way?"

Eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, several different fresh baked breads, a fuzzy fruit that's purple and tastes like canned peaches, strangely eclectic quantities of mustards. A large, large breakfast has been set out in the main dining hall. A table nearly fifteen foot long covered in many dishes. Plates are arrayed, and maids are present to commit to serving and cleaning for the guests of Meister Silberschmidt. The rest of the Order is already present and eating, along with Ember. With a quick scent, something that Rhodie did not do is apparent on every other person. Bathing and scented oils.

As she follows the directions toward the dining hall, her nose picks up the scent. Oh, that actually smells like a good spread of food.  "Those scents are thankfully familiar." She can feel her tail start to wag lightly, and shrugs. "Eh, that one you’re justified on." She knows she's talking to herself, but isn't awake enough yet to care.  Rhodie gives a two finger salute to the others as she enters the hall, "Yo." She lets out another yawn, and then pauses. She starts sniffing at the air again. Scented oils and...soaps? Ah, yes, you did forget to do that, didn't you, Rhodie? To be fair, it's been a while since you've had a proper chance in the morning but... eh, do it afterwards. She looks at the purple fruit, tilting her head slightly. "This one is called...what?"

It's Ember that answers. "Galsian Plum. Imported. They're good." Pritchard is speaking with Donnel over the far corner of the table. Their conversation hushed and quick patterned by their motions. Salicia joins Rhodie, somehow appearing in a stealthy manner far at odds with her imposing stature. "Fill up, Rhodie," she says with a laugh. "A few days here and we won't get a free spread like this for a while. Mikkelsbrugh is a ways away, even by traveled roads."

Rhodie gets a plate setup, and sniffs at the plums. "These are plums?" She tries one, and gives an approving nod. "Kinda like a Dole Peach with the syrup. Neat." Salicia's sudden appearance does give her a start, feeling her ears pop up slightly for a moment in surprise. "How do you do that?" She asks Salicia. The demi lets out a small laugh, pointing at her nose. "Super sniffer, and you still manage to be stealthy. Awake now at least. Adrenaline jolt instead of coffee will suffice I guess." She starts to eat, and looks back over at Sal. "So that'll be the next destination then?"

"If you'd like coffee, I can get one of the girl's to get you one," Pritchard says, breaking off his conversation with Donnel. A quick and sharp order and the maid staff is on their way.

Salicia has a laugh as she claps Rhodie on the back. "We're all cleaned up and all this food. You're still new to it all, ain't you?" she asks, leaning her weight onto Rhodie's shoulder. "Now watch, I need another bacon sandwich. Plenty of pork in Mikkelsbrugh, but Silberschmidt's butcher cuts it thicker." Ember just watches, a coy smile on her face as she just enjoys seeing a neophyte Errantblood learn about the new things that the world has to offer them.

Rhodie's eyes light up, her tail beginning to wag like it was going out of style. "Coffee. You have coffee here. Coffee is a thing in this world. Yes, the answer is YES TO COFFEE." Something familiar may exist, and it's something she loves? OK, mood brightening for sure. Even with the clap on the back. She laughs, "Sal, it’s like I said out in the forest. My normal routine had me waking up around noon, since my work kept me up so late. And when you work from home by yourself, a morning shower isn't always the first priority." She raises an eyebrow. "OK, so other worlder question: He has his own butchers? I mean that in like, he eats meat, or he keeps them on hand for guests? Cervines are more vegetarian diets back home. Though if the dude likes meat, power to him."

"You're a strange girl, Rhodie," Salicia comments and elicits a chuckle from the knowing Ember. "He's got butchers, and cooks, you don't see them much. They live in the city. The cook comes in. He's a big human named Gerhardt. Friendly fellow, and his kitchen's the only place you won't have to deal with Silberschmidt's bought spellcasting. Man may own the house, but no man is crazy enough to deal with a chef's claim to the kitchen," Donnel explains while Pritchard speaks with the maids. Ember fields the more important part of the question. "Don't take species appearances for expected, Rhodie," she explains. "Your gut's as human as it ever was. Which, yes, does mean you can eat chocolate. And by god, you will want some of that if you ever go overseas."

She gives a grin in response to Salicia. "And I'll only get stranger with time." Aha, the kitchen you say? Thank you for that little tidbit of information, Donnel, Rhodie thinks to herself. "Good to know some things are universal across then. Mess with a chef, and you're in for a bad time," Rhodie says to Donnel. Ember's comment gets her attention, "Chocolate. Oh wow, I hadn't even thought about that. Oh man, everything is going to be like home made stuff instead of processed brand name." She take in a breath as she pictures the implications of that. "Well, that's something that'll be tried."

The coffee arrives. It's in a white cup with genuine gold trim. Markings run along the rim of the cup, reflecting off the deep, impossibly black void of liquid that has been called coffee. "Your coffee, ma'am, brewed in the gentleman's suggestion," the squeak of a soft voiced maid is a reminder that Rhodie could be that shrinking violet in the frilly outfit. "Not cheap, not compared to home," Ember clarifies, "But you're an errantblood, so you can work for high marks." "And Pritchard's a Geistmacher," Salicia says. "So he can just buy whatever you want."

Rhodie takes the cup, and grimaces a bit at the quick reminder of what could be. Still telling that now assigned voice to stay shut up while she enjoys her coffee. She's surrounded by her friends now, people she actually will be loyal to, and like hell she's going to give in to this magic. She makes a shooing motion to the maid. "I have no idea what Geistmacher means. Excuse me for a moment..." She turns her attention to the coffee. Black, blacker than the blackest black times infinity. She closes her eyes and takes a long whiff of the coffee. Taking time to  savor and process the smell, probably looking like she's deep in thought to the others. Moment of truth, is it truly worthy to be called coffee... She takes the cup with both hands and drinks.

The smell of the coffee is a smoldering mixture of earthy woods and an undercurrent of bitterness. The liquid is piping hot, the flavor is sharp and rich. There's no sweetener in the liquid, no milk to make it blonde. It kicks like an espresso run through with the mouth filling tingling aftermath of chili. The sudden tang opens Rhodie's sinus in the way normally reserved for cold medication. Bitter, lingering spice, and a heat beyond simply being cooked bean water. Pritchard appears vaguely discomforted despite a moment ago wanting to see Rhodie's reaction to the coffee. "Geistmacher is my family name," he explains.

Taking time to process the taste and flavors, a smile slowly creeps across Rhodie's face. For the others, it might be the first time they've seen her smile that wide since she joined up. "Sweet. Bitter. Drink of the Gods." She says with a contented sigh. She looks around, and clears her throat, "Sorry, was having a moment there." Her moment of joy is broken when she sees Pritchard's reaction, feeling her tail sag a little. "Sorry.... To be fair, we haven't really discussed family names in our time together, but that's still me putting my foot in my mouth there, Pritchard. My apologies."

Ember seems to be laughing to herself while Pritchard shakes his head. "It's nothing, Rhodie. I haven't spoken about it because I generally don't. I'd rather not put too much on my family name." Donnel snorts. "You going to stop being modest, you've known the gel for a month. She'll be finding out on her own soon enough." Pritchard nods. "What Salicia was inferring is my family's wealth. While not nearly to the degree of Meister Silberschmidt, we are a successful family." Ember fills for reference. "The Geistmacher's own the First Lantern Coffee House. Which is also one of the most important insurer, underwriter, and moneylender in the region."

Ok, so the reaction was more to the situation and no her response, that's a relief. "Oh, so that's what you meant yesterday on the affording dinner thing. Neat!" She says in regards to his financial situation as if he had just shown off a new jacket. The next part though seems to be her focus, "The First Lantern Coffee House? Explains this rather well." She holds up the cup and takes another sip. "I can understand not wanting to put on your name, but doesn't seem like something you should try to hide like you seem to have been doing. My mom used to do accounting for folks along the lines of Silberschmidt's position back home, so we weren't want for finances either."

"So you owned multiple homes in Manhattan, Rhodie?" Ember asks in a way that suggests she's trying to make a point. "I do not do much business with Augustus Geistmacher. Though should my project come to fruition, I may keep in mind that the First Lantern could use a second location," Silberschmidt's voice proceeds him as he enters the room clad in a belted smoking jacket and silk trousers. He has a stein in his hand and a flat, neutral look of amusement about him.

Rhodie looks over at Ember with an 'Are you serious?' look. Then over at Pritchard. She shakes her head, "Wow, OK, yeah, no, not to that level. Definitely not on that level." Ah, speak of the buck and he shall appear. "With a lead in like that, I'll bite. Your project?"

"I'm one of the last remaining old nobility with any power and dignity remaining," Silberschmidt explains. "But I've needed to grow with the times. I believe the term is vertical integration?" he asks with a look toward Rhodie as though she'd know the term by dint of being an errantblood. "I've been looking into establishing a new port that's independant of Mikkelsbrugh's regulatory committees and mercantile guild." Silberschmidt steps into the dining room and hands his stein to one of the maids. "As for my plans today, I'd like a wager with Magus Geistmacher. A trial of arms, for the attention of the errantblood, Rhodie Michaels."

Rhodie thinks for a moment, "So... expanding your reach and business, in this case power, but without the pesky addition of having to pay fees and taxes to another company governing the rules and regulations?" She goes to take another drink of coffee, but then stops. The irish setter raises an eyebrow, "'For the attention of...' Oh please tell me you're not about to get into the magical equivalent of waving your masculinity at one another."

Pritchard pauses for a moment, then he nods. "I see," he says. "First, the proposal is flawed because Rhodie has not submitted to any particular spellcasting for me to claim any ownership of. I will need something else for the wager." Silberschmidt looks toward Rhodie and nods. "Then I will extend forgiveness for any past trespass she may have committed. In writing, noterized by myself." Ember watches. She looks toward Rhodie and taps at her eyes and gives a subtle shake of her head. Appearances may deceive.

Rhodie catches Ember's signal and frowns. She narrows her eyes at the spellcasters. "I can't help but feel I'm being put on the betting table here for something without my consent, guys. Liiiitle bit rude and disrespectful of visiting guests if so."

"Did I say you were a guest?" Silberschmidt asks Rhodie. "I don't believe so. What I recall were my gamesmasters returning with a wastrel they captured that are now refusing to offer up for punishment. As per our discussion last night, correct Sergeant Donnel? This girl has no paperwork to her name. Of course, were I to formulate such paperwork in the event of a wager, then she would have some, perhaps. But as of right now, you have none. And it is custom for the lord to decide the fates of those caught trespassing on his lands."

Rhodie takes one long drink and finishes her coffee. "Actually you did, and I quote in regards to the offering of wine last night, 'I won't have a GUEST in my house that refuses my offering.' As for the trespassing, it was the magic of your lands that brought me here. Against my will, I might add, which is along the lines of kidnapping," Rhodie says. "But we can also say that they invited me here, in exchange for a new body and abilities still developing. Sounds a lot nicer than TAKING ME FROM MY HOME AND DESTROYING MY LIFE."

Everyone in the room just sort of looks at Rhodie for a long moment as if to figure out just how serious she is in her argument.

Rhodie looks quite serious, "For the last month I've had to deal with the fact that everything I know and love is GONE. Family and loved ones I will NEVER be able to see again. Everything I worked for, everything I was, all that work getting my life together, destroyed the moment YOUR LANDS decided it wanted me to be part of some grand scheme this world is plotting. And it IS plotting something!" She is looking more frustrated by the moment, a month of anxiety and just general GRAUGH apparently finally slipping out. "Come on, you all saw the connections, right? Why I got dropped on top of Donnel's party and your region?"

Silberschmidt looks toward Rhodie. "You have much to learn about your world, miss Michaels. It is not the kindly place you are from. We have legality here. We all have standards to meet. Regardless of where you are from, you are here with no paperwork, no vouching, no identity as far as any law cares for. You are nothing and the very fact I'm entertaining your whims is a sign of my magnanimity. Know yourself, cur." He looks over his shoulder. "Magus Geistmacher. I trust I will see you in the courtyard?" Pritchard simply nods and gestures agreement toward Silberschmidt as the deer makes his leave.

Rhodie tries to steady her breathing, face scrunched up like she's ready to bite the first person to come near her as she watches him leave. She grabs her hair and pulls, not hard enough to tear anything out, but it is very clearly she's doing it to keep from doing something she'll regret. "I fucking hate this place. I fucking hate this place and want it to burn so i can go home and never think about it again."

Ember is the one that approaches. Donnel and Salicia look on with sympathy, but it's the lioness that understands. "Rhodie," she says, "For better or for worse this is where people like us are. We have to live with it, or let it consume us. You have good friends and supportive ones. You will survive, and I can assure you that Silberschmidt has meant nothing but benefits for you in his challenge. Though you may have angered him in your misinterpretation."

"I can't. I can't. Do this. Ember. I'm trying, but every step of the way feels like someone is kicking me in the chest when I try to make progress," Rhodie says through gritted teeth. She glares at her at the last part. "Does he? Does he really? Because ever since arriving in town, all I've been told is to beware him, not to trust him. By you, by Pritchard, be aggressive, be forceful, and a bad guest, that's what you all kept saying, but now I'm supposed to about face and believe he has my best interests?" She looks toward Donnel and the others, "And guys, you did nothing to warn about any of this. Not. One. Word. about any of this crap the last two days until I was already in the den of the beast. I love you, I  genuinely, truly do. You are the ONLY things I have left for support and are probably the only ones who give a shit what happens to me. You three are the only thing that has kept me going this far, and not winding up dead or zombified or worse. You CAN'T do that to me anymore, OK?"

"He wanted to spar with me. He always does," Pritchard is the next to speak. "I generally refuse. Silberschmidt enjoys self improvement and as I'm one of the few experienced in both magic and combat around here, he seeks me out when we're reporting. You see, despite all of this, Silberschmidt is not himself a spellcaster. He buys all of it. He's deathly afraid of the moment a truly competent caster arrives under the hire of his enemies." He reaches for a glass of water on the table. "And furthermore, the paperwork notion is so that it doesn't become obvious that he is giving you free pass. You are a trespasser in the eyes of the law. He can't appear weak, nor does he want it to become apparent he is assisting you. Should I win against him and force his hand, you are free from carrying around a gift from a man with a great deal of power and a great deal of enemies. I'm sorry, Rhodie, I am, but he is acting terribly quickly and we've not had time. I hadn't expected him to do this in front of you." "Aye," Donnel adds, "Whatever you said to him last night impressed him. And gel, maybe sometimes just shut your yap and have some faith that the ones who lived in this place know what they're doing better than you, even if you are an errantblood. Remember what I said about letting it all get to your head."

"This has nothing with me being an Errantblood, this isn't ego, this me trying to deal with the fact that I am NOT ME ANYMORE, Donnel. I can't even remember what I used to look like... i spent last night trying to remember, and it was just this... red mess. I just.. I just want to be normal again. I don't want this body, whatever these powers are," Rhodie says, body hanging in defeat. "And I know, it's who I am now.. and that's the worst part."

[9kink]

Nets vs. Lakers – Game Recap – March 10, 2020 – ESPN

https://www.espn.com/nba/recap?gameId=401161610

Get a recap of the Brooklyn Nets vs. Los Angeles Lakers basketball game.

LOS ANGELES —  In his second game as Brooklyn’s interim coach, Jacque Vaughn watched his Nets fight and scrap for 47 1/2 minutes to carve out a two-point lead over the powerhouse Lakers..

Then Vaughn had to watch from the sideline while Anthony Davis launched a last-second 3-pointer that would have undone it all.

“It’s like the joy and pain of basketball,” Vaughn said. “I had the perfect sight line. I see it leave, just watching the flight of it. Looked to see if his feet were behind the line, so I said, `This is a 3-ball. We’re either losing this thing, or we’re going to win this thing.”

Davis missed. The Nets’ coaching change remains a hit.

Spencer Dinwiddie scored 23 points and hit the tiebreaking jumper with 28.3 seconds to play, and Brooklyn beat the Lakers 104-102 Tuesday night for its second straight win since Vaughn surprisingly replaced Kenny Atkinson last week.

Caris LeVert added 22 points as Brooklyn opened its four-game California road trip by beating the Western Conference’s top team.

Davis hit four 3-pointers, but that wide-open 3 at the buzzer would have won it for the Lakers, whose four-game winning streak ended. After back-to-back victories over NBA-leading Milwaukee and the powerhouse Clippers last weekend, the Lakers lost at home for the first time since Feb. 6.

LeBron James had 29 points, 12 rebounds and nine assists for the Lakers, and he flawlessly set up Davis’ final shot by driving the lane and kicking out to his fellow All-Star.

“A great look, a great opportunity to win the game,” James said. “We just missed it. That’s what the game is about.”

Brooklyn had a 97-88 lead with six minutes to play, but the Lakers ratcheted up their defense and cut it to 100-99 on James’ driving layup with 1:47 left.

Davis scored 20 of his 26 points in the second half, and he hit a tying 3-pointer with 42.6 seconds left on a setup from James.

Dinwiddie, a Los Angeles native and lifelong Lakers fans who starred at Taft High School in the San Fernando Valley, calmly drilled his mid-range jumper for the Nets’ first field goal in three minutes.

“It feels good because it’s a high-quality opponent on the road for a team that is doing its best right now to continue to find itself,” Dinwiddie said. “Obviously, we’ve gone through injuries and the coaching change as well. There’s been a ton of up and down. And they’re one of the top, what, three teams in the league, right? The championship contenders, Lakers, Clippers and Bucks. So it’s big for a team that learning and going to try to be a champion to add this win.”

James drove the lane for a layup that somehow rimmed out with 9 seconds to play, but the Lakers got the ball back after the scramble. James again drove and dished to Davis — but the All-Star couldn’t connect to secure the Lakers’ 50th win of the season and a triple-double for James.

“A lot of shots are going to be open with (James’) ability to get in the paint and draw a defense,” Davis said. “It’s our responsibility to finish plays.”

After their wildly successful weekend, the Lakers understandably seemed a bit less passionate in their return, particularly on defense. They led 58-56 at halftime despite committing nine turnovers and playing less-than-impressive defense.

Nets: Chris Chiozza scored 11 points while hitting three 3-pointers and added five assists. … Garrett Temple missed his fourth straight game with a sprained left ankle.

Lakers: C Dwight Howard sat out with an illness. … G Dion Waiters remained inactive for the third straight game since signing with Los Angeles. … Fans near courtside included Oscar-winning screenwriter and director Taika Waititi and NFL stars Todd Gurley, DeAndre Hopkins and Odell Beckham Jr.

THE FRENCH DISPATCH

Brooklyn took a seven-point lead into the fourth quarter after Timothe Luwawu-Cabarrot scored 11 quick points late in the third.

“Man, it’s one of the biggest wins of the year,” said Luwawu-Cabarrot, who finished with 13. “One of the sweetest, too, and it felt great. We played well. The whole team was involved.”

WITH A THUD

Four of the Lakers’ last seven losses have been to sub-.500 opponent, although they are 16-7 in that span. After such an emotionally charged weekend, the Lakers lost for only the second time in 13 games overall.

“Obviously you don’t want to follow up with a dud like this one, but they deserved to win,” said Danny Green, who scored just six points.

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