#Cold room sagas

[romanticscribblingof-alovedbug]

Hey...Lovebug are ya here? -knocks on door to the cold room- ~ @ghostrealmgatekeeper

*She opens the door, wrapped in a blanket. He still looks a bit sick and under the weather, but the melting seems to have stopped for now.* "Limbo! I heard you've melted, are you alright now? Also, its good to see you." *She looks concerned for him, but smiles softly*

[spaceheatertrash]

I need to see the vampire campaign, The Council. Where are you hiding them.

[horce-divorce]

we have had such an exhausting night. first of all, the heater has been out of oil for days, so it's just been the wood stove to heat the house during this storm and it's been miserably cold, its probably in the 50s in our room if I had to guess. we had a space heater in here for most of the winter, but it died a few days ago.

then today around, idk 6 or 7, I came back from the 2nd floor bathroom and noticed this godawful stench. I asked the others if they noticed it and they did as soon as I pointed it out. it was coming from the basement, it was sooo bad and thick down there we actually saw a haze like smoke and we could barely be down there to investigate, it was nauseating. It got so bad so fast that we called the non emergency dept and they sent the fire dept, who brought easily a dozen guys (including volunteers who had specialties in electric, carpentry and a bunch of different areas). three firetrucks, a cop and an ambulance just in case.

they tested the whole house with some kind of gas spectrometer, heat mapped the walls, checked everything outside and around the house, nothing else amiss. everyone could smell it, but nobody could quite place it. we all described something slightly different, but we agreed that it was chemically and burn-y. Bel said he smelled eggs or something rotten. For me it was more like burnt cotton at first, from the upper floors, and then once we got closer, it was distinctly chemical. it lingered on my breath and my clothes the way paint thinner does if you don't wear ppe.

the only way I could describe it was like... idk... I know both how formaldehyde and turpentine smell intensely, id know them anywhere. they're different and very distinct. it was neither of those things, but it reminded me of them strongly. it really, really reminded me of school for some reason.

ultimately they told us that because they couldn't positively identify any gases or fire hazards, we were good to go back inside and just call 911 if anything else goes amiss.

about an hour after that one of the CO detectors in the basement started going off frantically and erratically, but when Thorin went to check it out, it was hanging off the wires all weird. Putting it back securely made it stop chirping, and it was still on, and hasn't gone off again. the smell has also started to dissipate upstairs since we had the windows open for a bit.

it was bizarre though. almost 2 dozen people assessed this shit and nobody could find a source. this family has lived here for 25+ years and never had this particular smell.

We did get to sit in the firetruck while they assessed things bc it was cold outside lol that was pretty cool.

But now I wanna go to bed and it's just so fucking cold in here I can't even get cozy fffff :(

[crowns-of-violets-and-roses]

"The real unforgivable acts are committed by calm men in beautiful green silk rooms, who deal death wholesale, by the shipload, without lust, without anger, or desire, or any redeeming emotion to excuse them but cold fear of some pretended future. But the crimes they hope to prevent in that future are imaginary. The ones they commit in the present - they are real."

Aral Vorkosigan, The Vorkosigan Saga, Lois Mcmaster Bujold

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 20

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 19, Part 21

1K special

Warning! This is yandere, sagau imposter au so expect lots of gore in the series. This chapter is tame in comparison to the others.

The moon glimmers in the starlit sky as a hand brushes against your newly scarred skin. Eyelashes fluttering, your vision begins to focus on the plain ceiling above you. 

A coarse groan leaves your cracked lips as you flinch from the sudden pressure on your stomach. The hand quickly retreats as a pale green blob comes into view.

"...are…eeling?" The voice is barely picked up as your ears ring. Squinting your eyes, you swallow the dried saliva tasting faintly of blood.

"W-Who?" The word is coughed out as your throat struggles to form the words. Before you can ask for water, a cup is brought to your lips. The cold water brings sweet relief to your parched body.

Your senses begin to sharpen and clarity is brought back to your vision. Baizhu stands next to your bed helping you drink from the cup, though Changsheng isn't wrapped around his neck like she normally would be.

The water runs out and he draws the cup away. "How are you feeling? Your body is technically healed of its major injuries but it's still trying to adjust. The pain will continue to persist for a long while."

"I feel better than before." The reply is automatic as your hand twitches in an effort to move your muscles. The recollection of what had even brought you to Baizhu's care is a slow trickle as you process his words.

Shenhe, Yelan, the treasure hoarders, the fall and Qiqi are slotted into your memory like perfect puzzle pieces. The small pitter-patter of footsteps coming closer to you and the sound of metal being set down goes unheard by you as you focus on sitting up.

Soreness and exhaustion are impossibly heavy weights as you struggle to lift your body a few inches away from the mattress. Gentle hands support your body, along with much smaller ones on your other side. 

"Thank you…" Your words are choked out between your bitten lips as a dull ache plagues your body. Clenching the blanket in your fists, you sigh in relief as a cold compress is applied to your bare back.

Wait, your bare back?

The strangeness is not lost on you as you look down at yourself. A thin hospital-like gown is all that you seem to be wearing with the blanket pooled around your waist. It takes a second for you to properly process what this means for you before you’re frantically reaching up to your face.

“No need to fret, your mask was left untouched during the treatment.”

It seems to be the truth, as your fingertips are met with cool porcelain and flaking blood. Not to mention the casual way Baizhu is speaking to you and the lack of Millelith guards swarming you.

Licking your chapped lips, you eventually arrive at the question: where do you go now? Ningguang would surely kill you if she finds out you’re still alive. Zhongli is still expecting an answer, god knows what Yelan would do and Shenhe is a wild card-

The thoughts racing in your mind are abruptly cut off as a metal tray is plopped onto your lap. A warm bowl of soup and yogurt with a soft pastel color greeted you. The refilled cup of water placed on your bedside is ignored as your mouth waters at the sight of the meal.

“Clear chicken carrot soup and fruit-flavored yogurt.” A child-like, monotonous voice comments with a deeper melodic voice following up. “I would have had food suited to your taste, but you hadn’t awoken until now. Are you allergic to anything?”

“Nope.” You replied by popping the ‘p’ before pulling the tray closer and picking up the utensils. Allergies didn’t concern your ravenous mind, as your dormant stomach awakened painfully at the smell of food. Who knows, maybe your creator buff will also prevent any allergic reactions.

An upside to being the creator was something you desperately needed after the saga of pure bullshit you’ve been through.

Baizhu gently directs Qiqi out of the room after instructing her a message you couldn’t bother to hear as you gulp down the food. When he returns, he sits next to you as the moonlight shines down from the window.

“Let me explain your previous and current state while you eat. Qiqi brought you in with multiple minor injuries, a few stab wounds, head trauma, elemental damage, with fractured and broken bones. That’s not even mentioning the severe blood loss and infections beginning to manifest on your poorly healed past injuries.” Each description is like a stab to the heart, with the visualization of your passed out body arriving to Baizhu on death's doorstep crystal clear.

“Thankfully your body reacted well with my elemental healing so the life-threatening wounds were healed, without infections, and your critical condition was toned down. That doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet.”

The soup and yogurt is picked clean, leading you to gulp down the water next. Looking at him, you open your mouth to ask for more food when he cuts you off firmly. “Don’t bother asking for food, the arrows didn’t hit your lungs or heart, but your abdominal organs weren’t spared. You’ll be stuck with light meals until I’m positive it’s safe.”

Resisting a scoff, you ask him. “So what’s my current condition? Will I have to stay here overnight? Hold on, can I even afford that? How much did this treatment even cost?!”

“Please calm down, Y/N.” 

“How did you-”

“Your name was etched onto the bag that Qiqi brought along. As for payment, there’s no need to worry. You had a rather generous benefactor that has given us more then enough mora to cover your total cost in every possible scenario.”

That was suspicious beyond belief, but you didn’t have a reason not to believe Baizhu either. Baizhu would have healed you even without payment, but not being in debt was ideal. 

This benefactor either wants something from you, wants to kill you themselves, or knows you personally. 

A few people come to mind that could fit your suspicions but with so little knowledge you couldn’t confirm anything. Instead, you asked. “Isn’t doctor-patient confidentiality a thing? Did they leave any message for me?”

If Baizhu was surprised, then he hid it well. “She knew your name and appearance, though I never confirmed that you were here. She simply left the money and a verbal message asking you to have dinner with her tomorrow at 1800 in Xinyue Kiosk. But please be aware that I’m not forcing this, whether you would like me to refund the money so you can avoid interacting with her or not is completely up to you.”

Shaking your head, you declined it. “I’ll go. Since everything is paid for by her, does that also include any medicine I have to take for whatever current injuries I still have?”

“That’s right. I’m mostly prescribing supplements for the blood loss and fluid imbalance. Some are for the bones that broke, even repaired they might cause problems, so calcium intake is also important. A simple drug for your immune system, as your body's defenses are relatively low from the wounds. As well as per needed fever and pain medications.”

… You didn’t want to imagine the cost of those medications, let alone the treatment. A dinner in the most expensive restaurant in Liyue within the city with an unknown woman isn't that bad. 

You've met people in worst locations and survived this long.

Pushing back the lingering worry, you focused on Baizhu’s explanation over what condition your body is in, what time to take the medicine and any other problems that could arise. It was boring, but you weren’t looking to get sick from your own stupidity.

The conversation had gone as you expected for a while until he brought up a strange topic. Flipping through a few papers, Baizhu steered the topic onto your- “Scars. Many of what you suffered from will leave new scars on your body. It’s the old scars that were peculiar.”

Knowing your luck, your scars must also be known to them. But you weren’t going to bring it up if he didn’t.

“They are imbued and cultivated with a power that is strikingly familiar, yet foreign. It actually perfectly correlates with my researched point of interest. I wanted to ask your permission on getting a sample of it before your discharge.”

That was a risky request. Your face stayed neutral as you thought to yourself. The consequences could be minor, but what if it became another situation of an accidental connection to the Creator again?

Looking back at the smiling snaked eye man, you opened your mouth to respond when he suddenly gave the fakest gasp.

“I almost forgot to mention that your old scar formations are the exact locations of the Creator’s real scars! This along with everything else I’ve seen is almost enough for me to report this to the Mille-”

“For fuck's sake just take it.” You could be excused for not playing mind games this time, being nearly dead should be enough reason for a day off. 

“I want some form of compensation, though!” Being stupidly tired is a different matter then being just plain stupid.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll most likely take the sample sometime tomorrow before your discharge. So please, tell me what you have in mind by noon tomorrow so I can fetch it in time.”

In hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that Baizhu would ask this of you. Your body has clearly undergone some changes as you lived in Teyvat and Baizhu is dead set on finding a way to be immortal. 

There was a time you had wondered if you might be immortal due to being the creator, so maybe Baizhu can figure it out with your sample.

“The last thing I want to address before you rest is-” Baizhu is cut off by a knock on the door. He glances at you, asking permission to open the door with his eyes before you nod firmly. Qiqi walked in earlier without knocking, so maybe it’s a visitor? But considering how late it is, maybe you were wrong…

“Come in Qiqi and bring the visitor in too.” 

The door opens slowly as you watch Qiqi walk in stiffly with a yawning girl following her in at a similar height. Long light brown hair is loose as the girl rubs her eyes tiredly. 

“Hello Dr. Baizhu, I came back to check one last time if the oracle- Oh!” Caramel colored eyes widen at the sight of you sitting on the bed, and the girl hurriedly gives a polite bow. A yellow plush bunny is smooshed in her arms in the process.

“Hello, pardon my rudeness. My name is Yaoyao and I was sent by my master to check on you! It’s my honor to make your acquaintance, Y/N, or would you rather me call you by the oracle title?”

The ‘little adult’ looks different without the decorative bells she usually wears in her tied up hair, but the bunny was a dead give away. You smile at the nervous girl while wondering just who told her about you being an oracle.

Baizhu was giving you a look that basically screamed suspicion.

“You can just call me Y/N. By master, you mean Madame Ping, right?” Yaoyao beams at that as she steps closer.

“That’s correct, we learned about you from the other Adepti and Xiangling.” You should have known. “When we heard that you were here, I was sent on my Master's orders and Ganyu’s concern. Visitors weren’t allowed earlier, but I wanted to check one last time.”

Ganyu too? That basically guarantees Ningguang, Keqing, Zhongli and even more knowing that you’re here. But more importantly was the fact that Baizhu investigated anything connected to the Adepti for his immortality quest. 

You could only hope that Baizhu would be happy with a basic explanation and the sample of your scar tissue as promised.

“Visitors was the last topic I wanted to address.” Baizhu smoothly joins as he gets up from his seat and heads toward a desk on the far side of the room. A small pile of letters and a pile of gifts sit on the table next to your bag. How didn’t you notice it before?

“After a patient here noticed you before she was discharged, she and her guardian left you a letter with a present. I believe she may have been the one to spread it, but I ask you to kindly not hold anger against her. She’s rather young.”

So the little leaker was a child? It could be one of the kids you saved, but none of them could really afford to go to Baizhu. Not that he would have denied them but most children in that situation don’t go unless on the verge of death or pushed by an adult.

“It’s okay, I’ll look through the stuff in the morning.” As if on cue, Yaoyao fails to hide a yawn as she walks to stand next to your bed.

“Auntie Cloud Retainer and the rest of the Adepti told Master what happened on Mt. Aocang. Master really wants to meet you, so if you have any time to spare, please pay her a visit here at the Yujing Terrace near the Yiyan temple.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you make a mental note of that before asking Yaoyao a question in return. 

“Just how many people in general know that I’m here? I know quite a few people and Qiqi being here must have been quite a spectacle… But surely it must not have been too much considering that it was the middle of the night.”

The nervous expression on Yaoyao face dashes away any hopes you had. 

“Sorry Y/N but a lot of the city was speaking about you. Even nature and the animals kept mentioning you! Though they were a little more vague. If it helps, most people know you as a masked person rather than your name.”

Sighing, you don’t even bother hiding the distaste on your face. Changing masks wouldn’t do much and you sure as hell can’t remove it either, leaving you with the sole option of leaving. 

Leaving before anyone else can attack you in this fast-pace city filled with greed and ambition. If you stayed here any longer, you’ll surely be pulled into whatever new situation happens and only get more attention. 

The dinner you had first worried about is almost miniscule compared to the threat of Yelan and Shenhe knowing your location. More so, Yelan as she has an obligation to get rid of you due to her job rather than Shenhe’s emotional motive. 

Your mind replays the last bit of your fight where you had touched the waypoint and- Oh fuck. Groaning, you dumped your face into your hands as Yaoyao watched you worriedly. Her worried calls rolled off you like waves as you remember how the teleport waypoint glowed in front of everyone.

That’s a complete group of people, treasure hoarders nonetheless, that saw you activate it. Yelan could use that information and the witnesses in whatever stupidly clever way she wants!

Yaoyao looks back at Baizhu confused as he shakes his head silently. Qiqi picks up a glass of coconut milk and begins to walk towards you with it before Baizhu blocks her way.

Fingers digging into your scalp, you resist the urge to pull your hair as you bite your still slightly bruised lips. The realization of what kind of ammo you gave Yelan was killing you. 

Baizhu takes the glass from Qiqi and puts it back down before handing her a glass of water. Qiqi stares blankly at Baizhu before switching the glasses again. As the two continuously switch cups, Yaoyao rummages in her bag.

A sting of pain begins to grow as you get dangerously closer to the recently healed head wound. The smell of something sweet yet earthy snaps you out of your stress-fueled self depreciation as small hands pry your rough ones away.

“Please be careful Y/N, Dr. Baizhu is a great doctor but you shouldn’t hurt yourself like this. Have a candied date, it's golden honey flavored and works great to get rid of the bitter medicinal taste that he prescribes.”

It didn’t smell too bad, so you hesitantly took it from her hands and glanced back at Baizhu in case he tries to confiscate it. With his back safely turned, you pop the candied date into your mouth.

It’s a nice taste and it does work well as a distraction from your worries. “Thank you Yaoyao.” Your hand reaches out instinctively and pats her head. “The Creator views you fondly and one day your fate will intersect with the creator’s just like it did with the Adepti.”

The lie flows smoothly from your mouth as she smiles brightly up at you. Her eyes move down to the blanket as she responds. “I still don’t quite know what that means, but I’m sure I’ll be able to properly appreciate it once I’m older.”

Qiqi joins you both and hands you a glass of water that you take from her gratefully. Your hand leaves Yaoyao’s head to rest on the bed, making Qiqi look away with a pout. Before you can question the unexpected reaction, Baizhu redirects the conversation.

“I understand that you hold some valid concerns over your safety, Y/N. This situation isn’t one we deal with frequently, but we do have measures in place.”

The look you send him speaks a thousand words as he sighs and adds. “Free of charge, of course, as it counts as patient confidentiality.” 

“Bubu’s Pharmacy has tight security measures and Millelith frequent the area due to it being near the Yiyan Temple and the Welkin Temple.” You were 100% sure that the second temple did not exist before you came here. “Me and Qiqi both reside here and as experienced vision holders, you’ll be in safe hands.”

Nodding in understanding, you can’t deny that it felt safer knowing you weren’t going to be left alone. Your body was still exhausted and in the midst of healing so you didn’t have much energy to defend yourself with if Ningguang were to send another person after you.

“Qiqi doesn’t sleep much, so she’ll keep an eye out for anything amiss.” And you were right back to feeling anxious. Baizhu was relaxed as he tidied up the room, while Yaoyao spoke softly to Qiqi.

Glancing at the zombie child, you repeated the mantra to yourself that anyone could be a DPS in Genshin. You just needed to check her equipment before bed.

Yaoyao turns back to you with a sleepy smile. “I’ll be taking my leave now. I wish you a swift recovery, and I look forward to seeing you again with my Master.” With a casual wave, you let that be your only farewell as you drink the glass of water Qiqi handed you earlier.

Baizhu pats his clothing down as he calls out to Yaoyao right as she opens the door.

“Oh Yaoyao, since you’ll be relaying the message to Madam Ping and Ganyu, please have Ganyu tell Ningguang about Y/N’s acceptance to dinner for me as well.”

The water you were drinking goes down the wrong way at those words. 

Coughing, you yank the glass away as you look back up to the surprised Baizhu. “Did you say Ningguang? Was she the one who paid for everything and asked for the dinner?”

Baizhu smiles pleasantly with little regard for your shaky tone as he nods. There goes every flicker of hope you had that Ningguang wasn’t your benefactor.

Every drop of blood your body synthesized to restore you back to normal is drained as you pale at the confirmation. Just how the hell did you manage to meet Zhongli, Yelan, and Ningguang!? 

They are all people you wanted to avoid, and you definitely shouldn’t have met, considering the fact that people pay to even get an hour with Ningguang, let along a whole ass dinner invite!

Was there some stupid rule that goes along with being the creator making you meet nearly every acolyte that exists?

So busy cursing yourself and the entirety of Teyvat out, you don’t notice how Baizhu corrals Yaoyao out of the room before heading to you, as Qiqi watches from the sidelines.

“My, my you’ve gone pale at the news Y/N.” Baizhu’s glasses glint a little from the flickering lantern illuminating the room. He smiles down at you with half-lidded eyes that stare at you strangely.

“I didn’t realize that I forgot to tell you who it was. If you decide to, we can always cancel it and send a priority letter before discussing a payment plan.”

Squinting your eyes, you shake your head ‘no’ as you try to read the simultaneously shady yet reckless doctor. It didn’t seem like he had any malicious intentions, as he very much did mean to hide it. But you can’t be sure that he had any good intentions either.

“That’s a shame, I was looking forward to discussing alternate ways of paying that don’t require mora.” …Yeah, no matter what way you put it or how clean Baizhu keeps his reputation. One can not simply not be seen as shady while going around saying stuff like that.

So not only is Baizhu showing signs of that strange attachment in a matter of hours, but Ningguang decided to suddenly switch her tactics. From ‘investigate and kill if deemed a threat’ to ‘generous wealthy person that totally isn’t covering up a crime’.

Could you possibly get Yanfei to sue Ningguang if you aren’t poisoned at the dinner?

Maybe, but that’s all riding on the chance that you aren’t killed in some coincidental accident before then. Waving away the pessimistic and slightly comical thoughts, you look up at Baizhu as he dims the lantern. 

“The pharmacy opens at 0900 in the morning. Are you willing to take visitors from that point on till your discharge at 1300?” Briefly looking at the letters and gifts, you nod silently.

Baizhu’s smile doesn’t waver as he responds casually. “Many people will be happy to hear that Y/N, you seem quite popular.”

He opens the door before kneeling to Qiqi’s height. “The last order I have for you tonight is to keep watch over Y/N and protect them if need be. Understand?”

Qiqi tilts her head at that and blandly states. “Order received. Order cannot be processed. Original intended function still active and in place.”

Baizhu frowns at that as you look at Qiqi curiously. His expression quickly smooths back to a calm smile as he stands up. “As long as the ending is the same, then I don’t mind.”

He glances at you one last time as the door creaks open to show the dark hallway. Slitted eyes meet yours, full of curiosity and intrigue. They almost glow as he steps into the hallway with Qiqi in tow before the door closes softly.

Sighing in relief, you flop back onto the bed and roll in the covers for a position that won’t put pressure on your aching muscles. Baizhu’s increasingly strange behavior slithers back into your mind as you close your eyes.

Just why didn’t he ask you about being an oracle yet? Is he planning on getting the Millelith? No, he would have done so much earlier. Maybe he’s trying to gather some blackmail on you? 

The possibilities torment your exhausted mind as you finally settle on just explaining yourself tomorrow when you get the scar sample from you. When you open your eyes, the flame has already burned away, leaving your only light as the moon. 

Staring at it, you think back to the waypoints. Are they finally fixed? Can you use them again? You couldn’t test it out now, but you could do so when you leave after the dinner with Ningguang. 

Which region should you travel to next? There was no may you could stay or go back to Inazuma, so it’s either Mondstadt or Sumeru as they are the closest. 

Closing your eyes, you try to imagine what traveling through the terrain would be like to arrive in the city. Frowning, you continue by imagining what it would be like traveling in that region for the weekly commissions.

It’s a simple decision really as Sumeru had a wide range of animals and poisonous plants to fight past. While Mondstadt had that sweet peaceful greenery from being the starter city with the lowest amount of treasure hoarders thanks to a certain Cryo user.

Deciding that you’ve picked your brain enough on the topic, you shut your eyes for some actual rest.

A moment passes, and then another, as the wind rustles the leaves on the tree outside the window. The faint sound of a sweet croon reaches your ears as you stubbornly keep your eyes closed.

As your mind is slowly consumed by the heavy exhaustion and the dimness of the room, two thoughts come to mind.

One, you forgot to check Qiqi’s equipment. Two, just what made you be locked out from the teleport waypoints if it counts as a game mechanic from Genshin Impact itself?

—---------------

“The moon is quite beautiful at this time of night.” A kind and knowing voice says as wrinkled hands pick out the bits of leaves from long white hair. The moonlight illuminates the silvery strands as it gradually is picked clean to its former glory.

“Child, just what has happened that you come to me out of all the Adepti for assistance?” A red rope is cut into perfect portions and tied to form the perfect braid. A Cryo vision sits innocently as the centerpiece, while a monochrome ornament adorns the top.

“I cannot advise you on the matter that troubles you if you do not speak, Shenhe.” Iridescent eyes finally move up from the ground to meet the elderly woman’s warm ones. Shenhe struggles to speak as her head dips forward.

“I… I hurt someone badly. But they hurt me too.” Shenhe holds her hands together in a prayer like motion as her eyes flutter close. “But at the end, they showed me something I couldn’t believe. No. That I refused to believe and even helped me.”

With a hunched back and patience learned over thousands of years, the old woman stays quiet. Giving the oh-so apathetic disciple time to put her thoughts into words.

“I don’t know what to do, and master isn’t the most adept when it comes to humans. But you, Streetward Rambler are, in more than one way. You constitute as a human more than me.”

Shenhe closes her eyes as she thinks back to her encounter with you. The truth you didn’t hesitate to spit in her face, the raw anger you expressed at her delusions and denial.

“I just want to understand these emotions. Are they a witch’s, an Adepti’s or a human’s emotions? Not even these ropes are stopping them!” Shenhe tugs at the newly bound rope in frustration but stops at the touch of light fingertips.

Madam Ping smiles warmly down at Shenhe. “None of those answers are correct child. They are simply your emotions. And I believe deep down, you already know what you feel. You just don’t know what to do with them.”

Shenhe looks at the ground with a mixture of guilt and self-loathing swarming inside her. It was true, wasn’t it? That day you spoke her feelings in the bluntest way possible, but here she was, still trying to deny it.

“Then what do I do? Is it really okay to love someone that hurt you? I don’t want a repeat of my childhood… I just want to treasure and use this new chance at connecting with my entire self that the Creator has graced me with.”

The hand that pats her head is familiar and warm. Childhood memories of her shedding those human emotions she once thought weak come to mind before Madam Ping’s voice brings her back.

“Trusting in the Creator and following the path they opened for you, no matter how scary or concerning, is always the right path. Follow me Shenhe.” 

Madam Ping is quick to walk away toward the two temples, as Shenhe follows her swiftly. The Yiyan Temple for the Geo Archon is laughably small in comparison to the huge Welkin Temple behind it.

They climb the stairs past the Yiyan Temple and enter the luxurious archway leading into the Welkin Temple. Decorations laced with jewels, paintings of the highest caliber, and statues of the rarest minerals are a common sight in it.

As Liyue Harbors sole temple, the city and its citizens spared no expanse in making sure it was top-notch. That included the deceased Geo Archon who left it in the care of the Liyue Qixing before his passing.

The pair walked through the halls as many people prayed and worshiped within the dead of the night without care for the passing onlookers.

Everyone gathered here at this time of night is here to do the same thing after all.

A couple of people amble past the determined Adeptus and disciple into the barren clinic as physicians begin to care for them. The blood, bone, and missing parts of skin are applauded before quickly being catered to. 

Madam Ping enters the hallway where many citizens wait outside the rooms for their turn. Yet instead of stopping like Shenhe expected, the old woman brings her to a hidden staircase around the corner.

The two climb up and up, till they reach the rooftop where an alter sits. Shenhe is well aware what she must do for the answers she desires. Kneeling before it, Shenhe gratefully takes the ceremonial spear handed to her by Madame Ping.

“You have matured enough to earn the privilege of giving a piece of yourself to the Holy One. I can only excitedly wait for the day my own disciples can have this honor.” With a calm yet cheery chuckle, Madame Ping moves away from the grave faced Shenhe.

“Oh Holy Creator, God of all that has lived, lives, and lives on. Listen to this acolytes prayer and grant me but a crumb of your wisdom. Though I am foolish and mortal, your mercy shines down on in the form of that person.” 

The spear is raised into the air as Shenhe stays kneeling and points the spear down.

“Please, Divine One, show this wretched girl just how I’m supposed to make it up to Y/N.”

The spear drives down and the crimson droplets stain the altar like a dazzling flourish of rose petals.

Well this took a long while. This time it wasn't school but just personal stuff. Between house hunting, family feud, car problems, and just trying to keep up with school. I haven't got much of a break. But things have finally calmed down somewhat so I used it to get this done. What also helped was making the outline for the 1k special. I think I should have it done for the next update instead of the regular chapter. But I did notice that a good chunk wanted regular chapters instead so I got a compromise. The special features Mondstadt (as most sagau start in Mond so I thought it would be fun) and it'll be a teaser to what Mondstadt has in store for you all. I'm not sure how many of you have noticed but each region has a certain theme when it comes to worship. Inazuma with sacrificing, Liyue with self mutilation, and Mondstadt will be hinted at in the special. My editor, @serpent-benediction, did this super late last night so props for once. But if there are claims to being anything more than an editor then don't listen. I keep basically everybody in the dark. Kinda feel like death so if you have any questions or comments I will answer them as soon as I can read again. Taglist: is open for anyone so just comment if you want to join <3

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe

[morganbritton132]

Hi, I binge read the entirety of your EMTTS and i absolutely love it! I wanted to thank you for your dedication and for how much you made me laugh. It's really great to find a saga that's funny and also gut-wrenching and written by someone who's a) very talented and b) clearly loves the characters and makes them very well rounded even in little snippets of life. So thank you!!

I also can't stop thinking about the initial "is Dustin a person or a dog" confusion and how much it reminds me of that episode of B99 where everyone's asking subtle questions to their coworker to understand if Kelly is his wife or dog, like "did you two go on any nice walks recently?" and i can see someone like David trying it and failing

Thank you so much for so many kind words and I’m glad that you’re enjoying the series because I am too! (Also, super impressed you got through it because it’s a lot!). I love that cold opening of Brooklyn 99 and it was the inspiration for that tag.

Also, I love the idea of the first-year teachers trying to figure out if Dustin is a person or a dog. That’s brilliant!

And what’s funny is that David’s not even wrong in this situation.

He is like 99% sure that Dustin is the name of Steve’s brother, but he’s been wrong about literally everything else, so this debate continues into its third week at their table in the teacher’s lounge.

David argues, “I’ve heard him refer to Dustin as a kid.”

“People call their dogs their fur babies all the time,” Marissa argues back. “He’s had that dog for a few years, right? Certainly not a baby anymore so, kid.”

It is not helped by the fact that none of them have any memory of ever hearing Steve address his service dog by name. They’ve heard him call him ‘buddy.’ They’ve heard him say ‘c’mon, pal.’ There was even an unenthused ‘Ozz-some’ last week when Ozzy alerted Steve to an impending seizure during his lunch break.

Have any of them thought of looking at the dog’s collar? No.

They haven’t even considered asking a student.

They are in the middle of this debate when Steve comes into the teacher’s lounge to refill his coffee mug for the third time that day. If he notices that the room goes quiet every time he walks in, he doesn’t make any indication of it when he smiles tiredly, “Hey, guys.”

They murmur their hellos and give each other significant looks, daring the others to ask the important questions. No one asks. No one actually says anything until Steve yawns.

“Long night?”

“Yeah, definitely. Dustin had me up ‘til two in the morning,” Steve yawns again. He doesn’t notice how everybody perks up at that. “Poor guy gets so anxious this time of year.”

“Oh, really?” Marissa asks, giving David a look that says ‘see, dog.’. “Because of the homecoming fireworks?”

Steve hums in agreement and shakes his head like he sometimes does when he’s shaking a memory loose. He’s speaking more to himself when he adds, “I think I’m going to take him to the park after work. Get some fresh air, some exercise. He’s been cooped up for too long.”

“Anyways,” Steve says with a smile, tipping his coffee mug to them. “Gotta get back to grading papers.”  

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

" Aemond is homophobic", "Screw Aemond, he is disrespecting his mother"... Really?

As for the first statement: why does literally everything concerning Alicent have to be about her being deeply in not-so-platonic love with Rhaenyra? Nothing Aemond said implied that it is precisely "not-so-platonic" part he disapproves of.

And here we come to the second one.

For one, there is a war going on/about to begin. The lives of their entire family are at stake, at the very least due to Daemon being involved. As far as Aemond is concerned, the latter is either Rhaenyra's faithful dog who kills for her without second thought (just remember Vaemond's murder) or a mad one who can't be controlled. Either way, bad news - and Alicent still chooses to proceed with caution. To which point must the Greens do so? Till there is no one left of them to get in Rhaenyra's way? Alicent is one of my favourite characters in the saga (at this point "was" might be more suitable) but presently "Alicent holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool" is basically a statement of fact.

As for the emotional side of the situation, just look at it from Aemond's point of view for a second. To cover her own ass and those of her children, Rhaenyra, an adult, in cold blood demanded for Aemond, a child, to be tortured - for telling the truth and right after Rhaenyra's own son maimed him for life. Alicent defended him then - and Aemond was the one who comforted her with words and with actions when the majority of the people in the room gaped at her as if she was a madwoman. He chased after Lucerys thinking not only of his mutilation having gone unpunished - he also never forgot Alicent being humiliated (hence 'a gift for my mother' line"). But when push really comes to shove Alicent, taking into consideration how high the stakes are, basically turns her back on him and his siblings - because she doesn't want her childhood friend (even if we actually count Rhaenyra as Alicent's friend) to be harmed. What about her children? Grandchildren? Her father? If you look at Aemond's face when he is asking Alicent whether she wants them to prevail, there is hurt in his eyes. And who can blame him for being hurt - and mad - when his own mother is not on his side but on the side of the person who harmed them both before? And if this happens after B&C, he is all the more justified in his feelings.

I might get a lot of hate for what I'm about to say but in the grand scheme of things it looks like as the Dance begins show!Alicent does precisely what Viserys did at Driftmark (and for years before and after) - which is disregarding her children's (in Viserys' case "other children's") best interests for Rhaenyra's sake.

P.S. There is also the fact that Aemond is not one of the most forgiving people in the world (just as book!Rhaenyra by the way). But it doesn't mean that his thoughts and feelings should be disregarded just because they happen to clash with his mother's.

[valorant-drabbles]

The iso x reader is really good! Alas, a part 3 would be great where they confess or reader's feelings get outed by either yoru or phoenix and gets teased about when reader will tell Iso but he already knows and reciprocates and just wants to hear it directly from them

The long awaited Part 3 of the Iso Saga!

Consider this my belated Christmas Present to all you Iso-Lovers!

~

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Gender-Neutral Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Cold Shoulder

Reader x Iso

It had been a fair few months since Iso had officially joined the Protocol, and the two of you were nearly inseparable. Whenever being sent on a mission, if there was a free spot on a team, you'd always try to find excuses to bring the each other along if one was going without the other. To the point that Brimstone had to pull you each aside and gently scold you. You simply can't be on every mission together. What matters is the skillset that is put into each team, not the person specifically.

It was a tad embarrassing being called out by Brimstone like that, and overtime, it was made clear that he wasn't the only one aware of how close you two were. How you and Iso were rarely seen without the other by their side, never too far if they weren't in view. It was almost instinctual, to be nearby.

Far too soon, a few of the other agents started picking up on certain hints that went over even your head, though you saw yourself as rather... aware of how others felt about you, especially after spending however long by their side. For instance, you knew Yoru often had an ego to show off, and acted like he didn't give a shit about anybody; but he would have your back if you were in danger, without a doubt. He'd warp to your side without a second thought. No matter how many times he'd deny it, he'd claim it was a coincidence.

So you were confident that if somebody's feelings towards you changed, you'd catch it. Or, if your own feelings had changed from platonic to... something more.

Boy, were you ever wrong.

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

Sage had stopped by your room to visit, bringing some freshly brewed herbal tea alongside a small plate of biscuits. She'd made a habit of making sure every agent was alright mentally, providing a safe space to vent or talk about feelings without judgement. She felt quite responsible for both the physical state of everyone, as well as their mental state. To put it simply, she was acting as the Protocol's therapist. And she was damn good at it.

Opening your door, you stepped aside to allow Sage entrance to your room. She'd already alerted you of your monthly checkup that day, so you'd made sure to tidy your bedroom as best as possible. She had always given off motherly vibes, so the last thing you wanted was for her to see a messy room on one of the few times she visits.

Sitting down on the floor, Sage sets up her favourite tea set on the short table by your bed, and begins to pour two cups of herbal tea. The tea set was painted with vines and flowers, giving off some Skye vibes. Perhaps it was a gift from her?

You sit yourself across from Sage, sitting on your legs comfortably as you reach for one of the cups, perhaps adding a little sugar to the warm liquid before settling into a more... relaxed mindset.

"So." Sage had started, hands wrapped delicately around her own teacup. "I see you and Iso have been progressing very well over the last few months, mm?"

You gave a simple nod. "In combat, we triumph over our opponents with ease. We have a good system going."

"That's wonderful to hear!... although not quite what I meant." She chuckled softly to herself, a warm smile on her face contradicting the confused look you'd given her.

"You've been getting to know Iso on a more personal level, more so than anybody. Which is a little strange, admittedly. Ever since you joined the Protocol, you usually kept to yourself and didn't make many connections with other agents. So I'm very relieved to know you've found somebody in which you can rely on-"

"Hold on." You pipe up to interrupt, eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. "What are you talking about? Yeah, I spend some time with Iso, but I wouldn't say we're on a personal level. That makes it sound like we're friends." Or more, your thoughts added, but you are swift to dismiss the thought as quickly as it arrived.

Sage took a slow sip of her drink as she let the following silence linger amongst the room, deciding to let it sink in naturally.

Her silence made something click in your head.

"We're friends."

"Mhm." Sage confirmed. "A bit more than that, perhaps. Some of us can't help but notice how rosy your cheeks get when Iso stands a little too close to you. How you two are rarely ever seen apart. And how, aside from me, He is the only one you allow in your room; your safe haven."

Your gaze slowly drops to look at the tea in your cup, seeing your reflection in the mildly rippling liquid, caused by the mild shake of your hands. You'd never really thought you had social habits, and yet... apparently they were blaringly obvious. Giving away hints to something you didn't understand yourself. "What... what does this mean?" You ask slowly, with eyes timidly flicking back up to meet Sage's calming, blue gaze. What she said next hit you like a wall of bricks.

"I believe you are in love, Y/N."

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

Love. Sage told you that you may be in love. It made you shudder. Far too soft of a word. How were you supposed to keep up your reputation amongst your team members? They might all see you as some... lovesick fool! You hated the thought of it. What were you meant to do now...? Well, Sage had advised you to take some time to think about what she'd said, and to get in touch with your feelings. Figure out how you really feel for Iso, and if it dips into being 'love' or not.

After all, Sage didn't know everything. She simply had her theories. Though she did coach you through some ways to self-reflect. Though it did feel somewhat pointless, you indulged her idea, and spent the next few days carefully doing some serious reflection on your feelings and interactions with Iso as of late. And the more you thought on Sage's words, the more that everything kind of... made sense.

You undeniably had feelings for Iso. The two of you working so harmoniously together, and how close you were outside of missions... the way you felt an odd, fluttering feelings in your stomach. The way your cheeks heat up when he casually rests his elbow on your shoulder... these previously unexplainable feelings, suddenly making sense. Clicking together like puzzle pieces.

Step one was complete, you supposed. You were aware of your feelings... now what? What were you meant to do with these feelings now? Surely not... expressing them to Iso?

The mere thought shot a bone-cold chill down your spine. No way were you ready to do anything of the sort.

"Just... act like normal." You coached yourself in the hallway, rubbing your face in an attempt to pull yourself together. "You like Iso, so what? That won't change anything- it shouldn't. I'm sure if you just... keep acting like normal, these ridiculous feelings will eventually go away..."

"Oh, that is rich."

The sudden voice nearly caused you to draw your pistol, if it weren't for your immediate reflex to look before shooting. What a relief, you nearly put a bullet into... the wall?

The next second, you see Yoru casually step out of his portal, removing his oni-styled mask with a faint smirk on his face.

"Yoru, what have I said about spying on me?" You scolded him with a narrowing glare, subconsciously gripping the front of your shirt. The bastard had made it a personal challenge to try and scare you when you were on your own- many times having been stopped by Iso a lot of the time. Iso's reflexes were often very helpful in catching Yoru before he had the chance to startle you. Besides, he seldom actually scared you.

"I wasn't spying about you. I was just trying to get to my room without bumping into anybody, and what happens? I find out some very interesting information..." A wide smirk grew across his face, as the realization quickly dawned on you.

"Listen, you didn't hear anything, got it?" Your voice pitched higher in a mild form of panic, which simply made Yoru's grin grow wider. "Damn. You're down bad, eh?"

Gritting your teeth, you storm closer to the man, preparing to grab him, and give him a thorough threatening- only for Yoru to warp out of your vicinity, a fair few feet away; arms crossed in a taunting way. "Phoenix is gonna get a kick 'outta this. Iso as well, I bet..." He cackled softly to himself, as he casually took a step backwards and fell into another portal, vanishing completely from the hallway.

Frozen in place, your mind had to slowly catch up to the moment of what had just happened. Yoru surely wouldn't spill such a serious secret just for the hell of it... right? Right?

You couldn't trust Yoru to keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell somebody- possibly even Iso if he felt like that much of an asshole. So, with quick steps, you ran towards the commons room, desperately in search of the masked bastard who was about to expose your most precious secret.

After searching what felt like half the headquarters building, you finally managed to find him. He was leaning against the kitchen counter casually, talking to the two people he'd threatened to tell. Phoenix; who wouldn't keep his mouth shut to keep a secret to save his life... and Iso.

By chance, Yoru happened to glance in your direction, keeping his usual smirk on his face as he kept the two men's attention on himself.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I wouldn't have figured if I hadn't been there. Y/N has always been so cold..." Yoru continued to speak as if you weren't there, only making your blood boil faster than before.

"''Ey, I wouldn't say that. They just... like to keep to themselves! Like Omen!... Probably!" Phoenix chimed in to defend you, which would've made you feel a bit better if you weren't on the verge of throwing a chair at Yoru.

"Still, you really heard them say that?" The British man raised a suspicious eyebrow towards Yoru, who simply nodded. "Why would I lie about something like this? It's hilarious."

Finally, Iso seemed to have enough. He made a point to slam down his soda bottle, with his eyes firing daggers in Yoru's direction, causing the other to stiffen ever to slightly, shoulders squared subtly in a sense of defense.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't care for your pointless gossip? How old are you, twelve? You truly think I would take your word as fact; especially with such a delicate subject? You truly have no shame, do you?" His voice was as cold as his gaze was, slicing through the thick, tension-filled air that had consumed the room the second the line was crossed.

Yoru struggled to find any kind of defense or escape from the conversation, his gaze quickly moving from you, back to Iso. "H... hah, as if I give a shit what you think. Don't act like you're above all this. Aren't you curious over what Y/N really thinks about you? Behind that cold exterior they put up all the time?"

"They only put it up around people they can't trust, like you. Besides, even if I were to trust your word, I'd rather hear it from Y/N themself." Iso retorted, as he plucked up his soda bottle, making his way back to his room, by the look of it. You felt yourself relax. Thank god; he didn't believe Yoru... and with that scolding Yoru got, you doubted he'd be running his mouth and telling anyone else for awhile, if he knew what was good for him.

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

The next few days came and went. And you were pacing your room, twirling a knife between your fingers as you tried your best to think of how you wanted to progress with the knowledge of your feelings being... somewhat out there. Iso was aware now that it was a possibility, so... what were you meant to do now?

Sage had been there to hear you out when you needed to vent about Yoru's little 'stunt', and promised that he'd be held accountable for his gossiping behavior. All the agents were teammates, so any actions taken to potentially degrade everyone's teamwork would be dealt with and punished accordingly.

She had also assured you that there was absolutely no pressure to confess, even if Iso does know your feelings. Who knows, perhaps this was a one-time crush, and it would go away?

Well, it had already been about a week since you initially found out about these feelings, and they hadn't exactly gotten weaker. In fact, it seemed almost as if they grew stronger by each passing day you spent by Iso's side.

Sage had coached you further, to ask yourself some questions before you made any decisions that may affect you and Iso both. Take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and ask yourself; Do you truly like Iso romantically?

Looking back on all your adventures and quiet moments with one another... how could you possibly say you didn't? Iso was somebody you felt like you could be honest with. Any chaotic feelings you might have in a single moment can be seemingly vanquished by him simply... being there. Even if you two don't talk to each other, the amount of comfort his presence alone was able to give you was something you felt like you couldn't find anywhere else. And if that wasn't an important staple in a romantic relationship... well, then maybe you were as much of a loner than Yoru had suggested.

But none of that mattered now. You felt oddly confident in your feelings, and now, knowing they were real by your own decision... it felt like you could confess to Iso. It was a bizarre experience; you'd been terrified of the idea of love and romance up until a few days ago. And now... you were actually contemplating a committed relationship with Iso? The thought still made your cheeks warm up with blush. The idea was... nice; welcomed, even.

Now it was just a matter of... figuring out how to actually confess.

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

The day of confessing came a lot faster than you'd expected.

You were often the type to plan things out ahead of time. Pick a day to confess, maybe write a few scripts for yourself so you had options of what to say when the time came... and inevitably hope it would go well. And yet... though you thought you were accounting for every possibility;

When the day came, it was... unexpected, to say the least.

You and Iso were in your room, quietly doing your own things, as the two of you usually do. And yet... today it felt different. It felt like an awkward silence that wouldn't end, no matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation. The awkward air was indestructible, it felt like.

How were you meant to start an important talk when things are like this?

"So... I heard that Yoru got in trouble with Sage the other day." Iso suddenly spoke up, which very nearly startled you off the bed; but in a firm attempt to act like everything was normal, you stayed in place. You inhaled quietly. You got this.

"Yeah..." You started awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, struggling to do so much as making eye contact with the other. "I... I thought I heard some arguing in the kitchen awhile back. Guess she dealt with whoever started it." Deciding to play the oblivious card, apparently. Though... did this count as lying? You weren't sure. You just hoped it wouldn't backfire on you in the long run.

"She certainly did deal with the perpetrator." He'd nodded slowly in response, his gaze moving towards you without your knowledge. "... you know, Yoru is pretty terrible at hiding when he's doing something mischievous at the cost of others. That being said; I saw you eavesdropping on us the other day." Iso couldn't hide the slight smile that grew on his face when your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "... I mean, he kept looking in your direction and everything. It was clear someone was there."

You just wanted the ground below you to open up and swallow you whole. So lying was pointless, huh. And Iso knew you were acting off for a reason now. Shit.

"Well... whatever. It makes this whole thing easier then, I guess." You mutter dismissively, keeping your gaze away from Iso's at any cost. Though you couldn't help but be mildly curious to what Iso was looking like in that particular moment. Was he as flustered as you felt? By the knowing tone in his voice, you assumed not.

"Not quite. You know I don't listen to petty gossip." Iso responded rather dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. "And if you were there to hear what he said, then surely you know what my question is going to be."

You just wanted to flee, or hide under your bed. God, this felt humiliating... though maybe it was just because you weren't used to being so emotionally vulnerable. Every word he spoke just felt extra dangerous.

“I hardly heard the whole conversation. I kind of just… turned the corner and saw you three. Besides, you obviously know what Yoru said. Do you really need me to say anything?” You asked hesitantly, your own logic seeming to make less sense by the second; and making you dug yourself deeper into a hole.

You feel Iso place his hand gently on top of your’s. The sudden contact was finally enough to make you turn to look at him, your cheeks not any less red than they already had been. Iso gave a small, reassuring smile to you.

“Yes. Because if it’s true, I want to hear it from you, Y/N. But… only if you want to say it.”

His voice was so… comforting. Holding no judgement nor expectation. He wasn’t going to make you confess that very moment if you weren’t ready; but it was clear he knew your feelings regardless. So… what were you meant to do now? If you put it off for another day, who knows how long it’d take you to get around to confessing.

Your nervous gaze moved to look at your hands, feeling your heart rate pick up by the second. This… this was it. Now or never, you decided. Iso deserved a proper answer.

“I… I have… feelings for you. Sage believes they are… romantic feelings. And I think I agree.” You speak softly, so quietly that if the room hadn’t already been silent, he may not have heard you. You swallow the nervous lump you felt in your throat. “I… do really like you, Iso. And… I’m sorry you had to find out from Yoru first of all people…”

Before you could even think about rambling further with some inane apologies, Iso’s hand had moved to rest on your cheek before you’d realized. It all happened so fast, and yet… ever so slowly, at the same time…

Iso had slowly brought your face closer to his, pausing when you two were mere inches away from each other. He didn’t move further, wanting you to initiate further if this was something you wanted. He truly wasn’t the type to force anything onto anyone…

It admittedly took you a few seconds to realize what he was waiting for… a… a kiss? The thought seemed overwhelming at first- you’d just confessed, and now he was offering to kiss you? Was that his way of saying he felt the same?

Your heart had never beat as fast as it did in that moment. Sure, you were new to the whole… romantic-feelings thing… and by all accounts, you’d probably reject the offer in any other situation… and yet…

In those few lingering moments, with his lips so close to your’s… you couldn’t turn away. Taking all the courage you had within you, you leant forward and gently pressed your lips to Iso’s; though it was a little awkward at first, with your lack of experience.

The kiss merely lasted a few seconds before you’d pulled back, face feeling as red as a cherry. You found it hard to make direct eye contact with Iso for a few moments, before you heard him chuckle slightly.

“For someone who used to be so intimidating… you sure are adorable whenever you’re embarrassed.” He’d hummed innocently. You shot a glare in his direction and punched his arm relatively hard, earning a more genuine laugh from the man.

“I’m sorry- it’s true!” Iso snickered softly as he scooted a bit closer to you, keeping your hands intertwined ever so gently. You’d barely noticed you two had been holding hands for a short while already. “So… was my answer sufficient enough for you, Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow curiously to you, giving you a moment to pause and think.

“Mm… No. I don’t think your answer was clear enough.” You responded, rather deadpan. This gave Iso a genuine feeling of confusion, as you turned towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, your face still rather red.

“Perhaps you should give me your answer again… and again.”

The two of you spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s company.

Sage may have had to heal a bruised lip or two the following morning.

[secretsofdbz]

How old is Gohan (or DB fans can't read and Toriyama can't (couldn't) count)

It’s common knowledge people disagree with how old Gohan was during the Cell Games and during the Buu arc. His usual name for those two sections of the story, Teen Gohan and Adult Gohan, don’t seem to make any sense. 

Let’s start counting. (TLDR at the end with a ref chart)

When Gohan is first introduced, Bulma asks his age and he states he is four years old. 

The training period between Raditz’s death and Vegeta and Nappa’s arrival is shortened because the two Saiyans arrive one full month earlier than anticipated (making the training period 11 months long and not a year long). 

Kaio-Sama knew the Saiyans would arrive the next day, but forgot to factor in how long Goku would take to travel back from Snake Way. Oops.

That makes Saiyan invasion Gohan probably five years old. 

Bulma, Gohan and Krillin land on Namek about forty days later (2 days at the Hospital, five days to repair the Namekian ship, one month to travel to Namek and the entire stay is about a week). 

It'll take 5 days to repair

Let's meet in 10 days (repair + learn Namekian + Gohan and Krillin need to be released form the hospital)

It’s been 7 days since we left, we still have 20 days to arrive to Namek.

The forty-ish days are confirmed when Bulma says there are 20 days left until they arrive on Namek, and at the same time, Vegeta arrives to Freeza Planet 79 “18 days after his departure from Earth.” (chapter 246). If Gohan hadn’t turned five during his 11 months of training with Piccolo, now it’s been 12 months so for sure he’s five.

Same chapter, Vegeta arrives to his destination 18 days after leaving Earth.

When everyone is transported back to Earth from Namek about a week later (6 days for Goku to arrive + a little rest time after the Ginyu fight), Gohan is still five years old. 

When they are transported to Earth from Porunga’s last wish and Guru dies, transferring his power to Moori, the Namekian Dragon Balls are inactive, so they need to wait one Namekian year to use them again. A Namekian year is 130 days.

Everyone waits at Capsule Corp. They wait for 130 days (one Namekian year), summon Porunga and make three wishes: bring Krillin’s soul to Earth, resurrect him, and resurrect Yamcha.

(Notice Gohan's hair, as well as Bulma's hair has grown quite a bit in these 130 days)

They wait another 130 days, resurrect Tenshinhan and Chaozu, and the third wish is used to transport the Namekians to a new planet Namek. This means the Namekians stayed 260 days, or about eight months and a half at Capsule Corp.

Then, the panel says “about a year later”, when everyone senses Freeza. If we add that to the 8 months and change from before, we can round it to about 20 months (that’s almost two years!).

How old is Gohan then? He was quite a bit over five years old before, we can safely assume that if he’s not seven years old, he’s really close to it (his hair has also grown!)

Considering Capsule Corp is having a Barbecue and Krillin and Gohan complain about being "hot" (Trunks pops out a fridge with cold drinks), it's safe to assume the Meca Frieza thing happens during the summer.

The next timeskip is “about three years, on May 12th”, but let’s keep some elements in mind from that section. We need to take note of some elements we know from 17yo Trunks and what we see in the Android Saga: 

For the first trip to the past, Trunks comes from “roughly twenty years in the future”.

Trunks will be born “two and a half years from now” (= he's 17 years old). 

The cyborgs/androids appear “in roughly three years, on May 12th.”

We don’t officially know Gohan's birthday from the manga, but we do know it from the Anime as being May 18th (he celebrates it during the 9 days between the announcement on TV and the Cell Games). Due to the “about three years” skip, Gohan is about to turn 10 years old at the start of the Android Saga. 

His stay in the Room of Spirit and Time lasts under a year. Give or take a few weeks to his biological age, during the Cell Games, Gohan’s biological age is almost 11 years old, while his calendar age is 10. Hardly a “teen”!

Now onto the 7 year timeskip. 

This is where things get complex, and we need to state some key elements: the school year starts in April in Japan, and the Tenkaichi Budokai always happens on May 7th, which means the Saiyaman Arc happens during the month between the first day of class and the Tournament. 

However… The manga does not say it’s been seven years. It says “years have passed” and “Gohan turned 16”. 

Here’s the big question: Is Gohan about to celebrate his 17th calendar birthday, or his biological one? Or is he actually about to turn 16 and the panel just anticipates his upcoming birthday?

We don’t know. This means we have no idea how long has passed from this information alone. This is why we need to find other clues.

Thankfully, we took note of some dates and other elements prior, and to solve the mystery, we will use Trunks. 

Trunks is stated to be 8 years old, and Goten is stated to be 7 years old during the tournament. 

Trunks was born “in about two and a half years” after the Meca Frieza situation, and the Androids attacked “in about three years”, making baby Trunks between infant and ten-ish months old by the time the Cell Games rolled around (both main timeline Trunks and Future Trunks have different birthdays actually, but they’re both in the second half of the year so here it does not matter). 

As such, Trunks’ birthday has to be after the Cell Games (he holds his head but can't walk, he grabs but can't talk, making him younger than a year old). This means his birthday has to be after the Tenkaichi Budokai (which is always on May 7th). That means Trunks will be turning nine years old during that calendar year (otherwise the Announcer would say "he's about to turn 8" or something like that).

If you believe Trunks may have been a year old already by the time the Cell Games rolled around, that’s fine! Let’s use Goten then. 

Goten was born after the Cell Games, which is after the Tenkaichi. However, during the Buu Tournament, he is clearly stated to be seven years old. This means the Saiyman and Buu saga cannot be “a little under seven years after the Cell Games (which was at the end of May)”. 

Even if Chichi gave birth to him the day after the Cell Games, it’s not possible for him to be already seven years old on May 7th during the Tenkaichi.

(and in this house we do not doubt the Announcer’s ability to give accurate info)

If we want the boys’ ages to make sense, we need to think they’ll be turning 8 and 9 respectively. 

And the Tenkaichi Budokai is traditionally held every three years so the Buu saga needs to happen “just a little under 9 years” after the Cell Games.

The problem is that if that’s the case, no matter how you add it up, May 7th, “a little under 9 years after the Cell games’, makes Gohan’ calendar age 17 (almost 18 since his birthday is coming up soon), but his biological age is almost 19. This means unless the Saiyaman arc takes place over a year and they train for that long for the tournament, his age doesn’t work. 

Though that does mean “adult Gohan” for Buu Gohan actually works…

There is no way to make both these elements work… unless we question Gohan’s initial age.

He is holding three fingers up, not four!!

Indeed, Toriyama changed his age in the following chapter. His 3 years old situation was corrected in the volumes, but the artwork was NOT corrected. This is how you show 3 and 4 with your fingers in Japan!

If Gohan starts at 3 years old, then everything falls into place just fine.

And this is why many of us say Gohan was 10 when he killed Cell.

TLDR:

Recap chart n°1

Recap chart n°2 with Gohan being 3 when Raditz lands:

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Lost Eden Drama CD Translation ☽ Vol. 4 Mukami Saga ☽ Track 3・About 'Him'

Original title of this track: あの方 (1) のこと Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma), Kishio Daisuke (Azusa), Kimura Ryōhei (Kou) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

TRACK 1・TRACK 2・TRACK 3・TRACK 4・TRACK 5・AFTER STORY

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This is the fourth volume of the Lost Eden drama CDs! I'll make separate posts for each track and update the links above as I go. This is the third track on the CD, containing a good dose of spice ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) I keep forgetting how slowly Azusa talks so by the time I finally got around to translating this track, I actually finished it in less than an hour... Happy listening and reading along!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 Kou: Ah… It’s like I’m being brought back to life! I know they always say bath time is when all your everyday troubles just fall from your shoulders (2), but it actually is. Ah? Kitten, why are you sitting all the way in the corner like that? Are you embarrassed? You looked pretty confident before you changed into that towel, though. Hehe. How cute.

[You ask him where you are.]

Kou: Hm? Oh, right. Lord Karl Heinz built this place for us when he took us to Eden. To remind us of our former humanity even after we became vampires, in a way. He was kind. He really was, but he was pretty much the vampire to rule all vampires, you know? Sometimes, he could be cold as ice, and quite strict, too. I don’t know what it’s like to have parents, but if I had a father, I wonder if he would be like Him.

[You desperately try to carry on the conversation.]

Kou: Ah, you don’t have to try so hard to follow that up! I forgive you. However... could you comfort me? The scent of your blood is so strong. I wonder if it’s because of the bath. It’s been difficult to resist since we got in… Let me drink. You’re fine with it, right? Well, I would dig in even without your permission, though—

[Kou bites you.]

Kou: Mm… Ah… Delicious. Tasting you fresh out of the bath is heaven already, but the taste of your blood while we’re in the bath is the best, too. Give me more… 

[Kou bites you again… until Yuma and Azusa come in.]

02:42 Yuma: Ah! You predictable asshole.

Kou: Ah? Oh, Yuma. You’re late.

Azusa: Eve… Your face is… very red.

Kou: And you too, Azusa!

[Kou turns to look at you.]

Kou: Ah, it really is! You’re so red you’re practically glowing!

[You immediately lose consciousness.]

Kou: Huh? Kitten? Hold on!

Yuma: Ah, she’s passed out.

Kou: Ah—I might’ve gotten a little carried away.

Yuma: ‘A little,’ you say? 

[Yuma punches Kou.]

Kou: Ow—it’s not worth punching me for, though!

Yuma: What? Don’t exaggerate. I barely poked you.

Azusa: Eve? Are you… alright?

Kou (in the background): Yeah, well, try thinking about the difference in strength between us. 

Azusa: Eve…? Pull yourself together…

Kou (in the background): You may think you only poked me, but I’m your weak little brother Kou and you’re the big, beefy guy. That makes it practically the same as punching me!

Azusa (to you): Ah, you’re too far gone…

Yuma (in the background): What, you’re admittin’ to being a weakling? You are by far the most headstrong out of all of us, though.

Azusa: It can’t be… helped…

[Azusa lifts you out of the bath.]

Kou (in the background): That’s harsh! C’mon, Yuma. How can I enjoy myself when you’re being so mean to me? (3) 

Yuma (in the background): Huh? The fuck’re you sayin’? That’s got nothin’ to do with it.

Kou (in the background): That has everything to do with it!

Azusa (to you): Let’s go somewhere more… quiet, and cool… Alright?

Kou: How do you not understand? It’s my damn right to—huh? What? Kitten?

Yuma: She’s gone! How?!

Azusa: Hehehe… Eve, I caught you…

[The scene shifts to ‘your’ room. You wake up in your bed with Azusa beside you.]

04:37 Azusa: Are you… awake?

[You shoot upright.]

Azusa: You might be surprised… right? Eve… this is your room. You lost consciousness in the bath, so… I brought you here.

[You look down to your body in a fit of panic.]

Azusa: It’s okay… I’ve already dressed you… and dried your hair. I wouldn’t want you to… catch a cold, Eve…

[You get embarrassed.]

Azusa: Oh… your face is red. Are you still… not feeling well?

[You shake your head.]

Azusa: That’s a relief… Would you like something… to drink? You have to stay hydrated…

[Azusa pours you a glass of water.]

Azusa: I have plenty of experience with… passing out after staying in the bath too long, as well… Whenever that happened, Ruki always told me… to drink a lot of water, so…

[You ask him about it.]

06:22 Azusa: Well… I used to enjoy hurting myself, but… When you go into the bath with fresh wounds… it stings, right? It heightens the pain… So, that’s why I would… soak in the bath for too long… But Lord Karl Heinz would get upset with me… so I stopped doing it. Oh… You have to drink some water, though…! I’ll help you… so please stay down… okay?

[You nod.]

Azusa: Can you… lift your head, just a little?

[You do as he says.]

Azusa: Alright… here, drink…

[Azusa lifts the cup to your lips and you drink, but some of the water spills.]

Azusa: Oh…! You spilled a little… I’ll wipe it off…

[Azusa wipes off the water and pats you dry.]

Azusa: It’s okay… Your clothes aren’t that wet… Would you like some more…? You don’t have to hold back… I will do whatever you wish…

[You thank him and tell him you’re okay.]

Azusa: Oh… I see. Ah, I’m sorry… I wanted to take care of you a little longer, so… It’s no good—I should’ve told you… just like Kou did… You look troubled… I’m sorry. It’s my fault…

[Azusa comes closer to you.]

09:41 Azusa: I don’t want to… trouble you… If I did… I would…

[Azusa shakes off his indecisiveness and lifts himself on top of you.]

Azusa: I should just be honest and tell you… that I would like your blood… I’ve only touched you a little, but… my desire is so strong… I can’t hold myself back… I wonder if it’s because… Kou drank from you earlier…

[Azusa leans in.]

Azusa: I’ll only take a little, so… It’s okay… right?

[Azusa licks your neck and bites down.]

11:12 Azusa: Eve…

[After a little while, there’s a knock on the door. Ruki comes in, which startles Azusa.]

Azusa: Oh…!

Ruki: Dinner’s ready.

Azusa: Ruki…?

Ruki: Come downstairs before it gets cold. Don’t play around with her too much.

[Ruki closes the door.]

Azusa: I’m not playing around with you, though…

[Azusa lifts himself off of you.]

Azusa: I’m sorry, Eve…

[Azusa helps you up.]

Azusa: Let’s go… You must be hungry… right?

[The two of you go to the dining room.]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

あの方（かた）: Lit. ‘that person.’ The Mukamis always use this (relatively neutral) term to refer to Karl Heinz—even though they rarely call him by his name, everybody knows the only person they could be referring to is Karl Heinz. It won’t really stand out in the title of this post but I always translate this term as ‘He/Him’ with a capital H, mostly because you could argue that the Mukami brothers revere Karl Heinz almost as though he were a deity.

He actually said お風呂（ふろ）は命（いのち）の洗濯（せんたく）which literally translates to ‘a bath is like washing your life’ but that sounded a little odd, and 命（いのち）の洗濯（せんたく）also just means to kick back and ‘cast off the drudgery of everyday life and doing as one pleases’ according to Jisho.org (my favourite online Japanese dictionary, by the way).

Couldn’t figure out for the life of me what Kou was yelling in the background at this point (half the sentence was muffled because of the splashing sounds) but judging from the context, I think he said something along these lines…

[yournowheregirl]

welp, this one has gotten out of hand (over 3k... yikes) but here we are! part 3 of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (only 2 more parts after this!) 

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 3: coat of many colors

Only a few weeks later, Eddie starts to slip up.

Any other day he’d wake up to the sweet, sweet sounds of his favorite Dio album, but one morning he grabs an old Johnny Cash album that Wayne sometimes listens to and puts that one on instead. 

It’s nice, and even though it’s apparently recorded at an actual prison, it still feels like home (Eddie tries not to think about that too much).

On a late night when Wayne’s still at work, he fishes his old acoustic guitar from underneath his bed and starts strumming away random chords that sound like the country songs his momma played when he was little. Sometimes he still remembers the lyrics, softly mumbling them even though there’s no one around to hear them. 

It’s nice, it doesn’t sound as sweet as when his momma played it for him, but it still feels like home (Eddie actually thinks about it a lot this time).

And it’s not like he’s abandoned his usual music or anything. He still has his Judas Priest tapes in the van because his driving would probably even more reckless if he drove without any music (and isn’t that saying something). And he still loves his sweetheart more than anything, she just has to deal with sharing him for a bit.

Not a lot of many people notice it, at first. Mostly because he still keeps that part of himself hidden, safely tucked away in the comfort of his own bedroom. 

But Wayne notices, because of course does.

“Whatcha wearin’ there, son?” Wayne asks, never looking up from where his eyes are glued to the morning newspaper. 

Eddie’s halfway out the door already, car keys jingling against his rings when his uncle speaks up, turns around in the doorway. “Uh…” 

He looks down at his clothes - what is he wearing anyway? Ripped jeans - all fine, nothing new. White t-shirt - okay, not his usual color but not that strange. Forest green plaid button down and beat-up leather boots that both actually belonged to Wayne at one point - yeah, that must be it. 

“Yeah, I mean I know they’re yours… You want them back or somethin’?”

Wayne chuckles and closes the newspaper, leaning back in his chair. “No, no. Not at all. Just surprised you’re wearing it. Ain’t you meetin’ the kids?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie frowns. “Should I… not be wearing this?”

“Wear whatever you want.” Wayne shrugs. “It’s just nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, nice. Nice to see you bein’ comfortable wearing that sorta thing again.” Wayne says. “Lord knows you wouldn’t be caught dead in it years ago.”

Eddie thinks back to when he first came to Hawkins, with an almost empty suitcase and ratty old teddy-bear in his hand. He didn’t have any clothes that were fit for the cold Novembers in Hawkins, more used to the mild Tennessee winters, so Wayne did the best he could and dressed him up in the warmest thing he had on hand at the time. A warm, blue flannel that Eddie’s small frame almost drowned in.

Not that he cared about it at that point. He only cared about how warm and soft it felt.

Which was fine up until the point that the other kids at school started caring about their clothes and how they looked and they started laughing at Eddie’s clothes. Making fun of how poor he was that he couldn’t even afford a decent sized shirt. Teasing him in the locker room about the holes in his socks. 

He decided then and there to swear off all the clothes Wayne picked out for him and changed his style up completely. His classmates were gonna bully him anyway, but he’d be damned if they insulted Wayne in the process. 

“Well, yeah. Guess I’m goin’ back to my roots.” Eddie shrugs.

“Noticed that as well.” Wayne is smirking now, way too pleased about the whole situation and gestures to his mouth. “Your accent, Ed. Any minute now and you’ll be talkin’ like Miss Parton herself.”

Eddie’s face heats up - if only Wayne knew what he’s been up to in his spare time “Shut up, old man. You’re gonna make me late.”

He drives a little faster than normal to the Wheeler’s house, because Wayne really did keep him a few minutes too long, but he still ends up relatively on time for Mike’s birthday party. Everyone’s already in the decorated basement (balloons and garlands and all) and Mrs. Wheeler is snapping pictures left and right, much to Mike’s obvious dismay.

Mike’s face does light up when Eddie comes stumbling down the basement, present in hand.

“Happy Birthday, mini Wheeler.” Eddie says, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, not fair! We were friends way before you befriended my sister.” Mike sighs.

“Eddie’s just got good taste.” Nancy smirks before turning back to her conversation with Max and El.

“She said it, not me.” Eddie laughs. “Now open your present.”

He’d bought Mike this older copy of a D&D manual. It’s a first edition that Eddie randomly found one day in a thrift store and considering the grin on Mike’s face, Eddie knows he made the right decision. 

Behind them on the table there’s a bunch of already-opened presents but one sticks out to Eddie - a beautifully depiction of the Party members, including El and Max, painted onto a notebook.

“Nice notebook.”

“Isn’t it the coolest? Will made it for me.” Mike gushes. “He always knows what kind of present to get me. He’s such a good friend.”

Eddie bites back a laugh. Poor Mike, so tragically oblivious to what’s staring right in front of him, bowl-cut and heart-eyes and all. But since he can’t actually laugh Mike in the face, he just smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder.

“Oh Michael… Bless your tiny lil’ heart.” 

Mike just beams at him, once again blissfully unaware of the little back-handed compliment that just escaped Eddie’s Tennessee mouth and runs off again to join the party. Not noticing a thing.

But apparently someone does.

“What was that?” Steve asks from where he’s standing behind Eddie.

“What was what?” Eddie replies automatically. He doesn’t turn around just yet, slightly terrified to find out Steve’s reaction. Not there’s any malice to be heard in his voice, but Eddie’s learned to be careful even when everything seems to be safe.

“That… the whole bless your heart thing.”

“That’s a just saying.” Eddie shrugs.

“But the accent… where did that come from?” Steve stammers.

That comment finally makes Eddie turn around only to find Steve staring at him, jaw slacked and cheeks tickled pink. And well, isn’t that interesting. 

Eddie grins as he takes a step closer to Steve, head cocked to the side. “Didn’t you know? I ain’t from around here.” He’s really laying the accent on thick this time, just to see how Steve will react. 

It pays off beautifully because Steve just stares at him again, his face turning an even deeper shade of pink that contrast with the tight yellow t-shirt he’s wearing. Eddie’s stomach bubbles with giddiness at the sudden power he’s holding over Steve, making him all flustered like this.

God, he really shouldn’t be flirting with his very-much-straight crush but it just feels so good.

“Where- where are you from then?” Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Tennessee, baby. Born ’n raised.” 

Steve opens his mouth and closes it again, does it a couple of times actually, like he’s a goddamn guppy. It’s, frankly, adorable and Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. He lowers his gaze, his hands moving through the air like he’s unsure what to do with that.

“I’m just… I’m just gonna talk to Robin for a sec. Be right back, okay?”

Eddie watches as Steve disappears in between the kids, sees how he frantically talks to Robin before dragging her upstairs, clearly in need some alone time.

Huh. Weird. 

-xxx-

Eddie comes clean about his roots to the rest of his friends a couple days later and to his surprise, no one really seems to bat an eye. Sure, there are few laughs here and there but it’s never bad. A couple of questions (mostly from El) about where he grew up and that’s that.

Or so he thinks.

Because he also told Steve, Robin and Nancy about the fact that there’s a country bar just a couple miles from Hawkins and that he’s being going there almost every week just to feel a little at home again. And now, they obviously want to come with. 

Eddie’s feeling slightly nervous about it - this is still on a whole other level than just wearing one of Wayne’s flannels and bringing out his drawl every once in a while. This is about who he is, how he was raised, and he’s not really sure how things’ll go down if his friends react weirdly about it.

Pat is surprised to say the least when Eddie strolls into the Off-Road next Wednesday with Robin, Nancy and Steve in tow. Robin swore up and down that they should dress the part even though Eddie told her it wasn’t necessary, but there they are anyway, plaid shirts and all. 

It’s slightly embarrassing to be honest, but Robin seems to enjoy making him suffer (well, that was until Nancy took off her plaid shirt and tied it around her waist to show off her tight black dress underneath and Robin almost had an aneurysm. Ha, how’s that for payback?). And besides, Steve’s looking unfairly hot in that light blue flannel so who’s Eddie to complain?

“Well, well, well. Looks like you got some friends after all, Ed.” Pat grins. “Welcome y’all.”

After Eddie introduces everyone, Robin starts talking Pat’s ear off, overjoyed with the fact that she’s finally meeting another queer woman, asking her all kinds of questions about growing up queer and how she met Tish. Eddie smiles, feeling happy for his friend. 

On the other side of the bar, Steve and Nancy are hunched over the jukebox, arguing about the next song to play.

“Is that him?” Tish asks as she puts down his beer - Eddie figures he might as well take advantage of the fact that Nancy’s driving tonight. She nods to where Steve is clearly losing the argument with Nancy. The way he’s bending over the jukebox in those tight Levi’s is making his ass look insane and Eddie lets out a strangled sound.

“Yeah, that’s him alright.”

Tish lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Eddie. You’re screwed.”

“Why, geez. Thanks for that boost of confidence, Tish.”

Tish just winks at him and disappears back into the kitchen. Eddie just sits and sulks for a bit, head rocking along to the song that Nancy picked out until Robin suddenly slides into view, eyes filled with mischief that Eddie doesn’t care for one bit.

“So… A little birdie told me you’ve been singing Dolly Parton songs here on the regular.” Robin says in a sing-song voice.

Damn Pat and her blabber mouth.

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “And what about it, Buckley?”

“Nothing! Just wondering if you might wanna play a song for us tonight?” Robin asks. She clasps her hands together and pouts when Eddie rolls his eyes at her. “Please? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

“Well… I can’t really say. Not yet anyway.” Robin smiles awkwardly. “But I promise you’ll be happy about it once it works out. Please?”

Eddie sighs - he’s never really been able to resist someone begging and he’s not gonna start now. He finishes his beer in one swig and makes his way over to the stage, taking the now-familiar acoustic guitar from the wall.

His friends sit down at a table close to the stage, staring at him with eager excitement as Eddie tries to think of a song to play. He feels strangely nervous. They had seen him play before, been to a few of Corroded Coffin gigs and he even sang the Beatles’ Blackbird for Nancy’s birthday but this still feels scarier, more intimate. 

And the thing is, he can’t really go with one of the songs he played her before because one wrong look in Steve’s direction and he’d be fucked for life. Or even worse, a love song - that’d make for a real awkward evening. So, he finally settles on a song that’s neither of those, but still a song that’s very close to his heart.

“Back through the years, I go wonderin’ once again. Back to the seasons of my youth…” Eddie sings softly, though his drawl rolls out of him with full force. 

He can’t help it, it’s the only way he knows how to sing this song because it’s the way his momma sang it to him every night before going to bed. Tucking him in tightly underneath the duvet, covering his face with kisses until he couldn’t stop giggling. Her voice soft and warm as she sang him to sleep.

“There were rags of many colors, every piece was small. And I didn’t have a coat and it was way down in the fall. Mama sewed the rags together, sewin’ every piece with love. She made my coat of many colors, that I was so proud of.”

He thinks of Wayne. Thinks of the clothes Wayne gave him while growing up. How he wore them to school with pride, excited to have clothes to call his own. To have a home and someone taking care of him, not because Wayne had to but because he wanted to. 

“So with patches on my britches and in holes in both my shoes, in my coat of many colors, I hurried off to school. Just to find the others laughing and are making of fun of me, in my coat of many colors my mama made for me.”

Thinks of his classmates laughing at his accent, at the way he dressed, at his amazement of seeing snow for the very first time. Remembers going home to Wayne with tears in his eyes, stuffing his plaid shirts into the deepest corner of his closet and trading it for plain black tees instead. Remembers staying up late when Wayne was at work to practice his speech pattern by watching old tv-shows and repeating the lines. 

Looks up at his friends. Realizes how he’s showcasing all those parts he hid away for years and is for once, rewarded for it. They’re listening intently, proud smiles on their faces. Nancy and Robin are leaning against each other, their fingers finding their way to one another.

Glances over at Steve, whose hands are folded underneath his chin as he looks at Eddie with a gentle smile, his eyes soft and almost like honey underneath the warm ceiling lights of the bar. He barely blinks, eyes glued to Eddie and Eddie only. It’s a bit distracting, if Eddie’s being honest. He feels his cheeks heat up and he almost misses a chord at one point, realizing then and there why he didn’t pick a love song in the first place. 

He needs to sing, not melt into a puddle of goo underneath Steve’s gaze, goddammit.

“Now I know we had no money, but I was rich as I could be. In my coat of many colors, my mama made for me. Made just for me…”

The song softly fades away and Eddie mumbles a quick thanks into the microphone as his friends and the rest of the the bar burst out into applause. He shuffles over to the table  where he’s met with Robin and Nancy beaming at him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“That was so good.” Nancy gushes.

“Yeah, it was amazing! You should switch music genres, if I’m honest.” Robin nods. “Change Corroded Coffin’s name into Corroded Cowboy or something.”

Eddie chuckles. “Not sure if the guys are gonna like that. But thanks, girls. Means a lot.”

Steve stays strangely quiet in between Robin and Nancy’s stream of compliments, just fiddling with the coaster in between his fingers. It’s not until Nancy drags Robin to the dance floor when an upbeat song starts playing and Eddie slides into one of the empty seats they left behind, that Steve speaks up.

“You have a really nice voice, you know that?” 

He says it so softly that Eddie can barely hear him over the bluegrass music on the speakers. Still, it’s enough for Eddie’s cheeks to flush pink.

“Thanks.” Eddie replies, ducking his head to prevent Steve from seeing his flushed face. 

“Seriously, man.” Steve says. “Think about Robin said. I mean, I love hearing you sing and scream about the world’s injustices with Corroded Coffin as much as the next person but…”

Eddie’s heart starts beating out of his chest because holy fuck, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing.

“But these songs seem to come so natural to you, y’know?” Steve glances up to meet Eddie’s eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “You make it seem so…”

“Easy?” Eddie supplies.

Steve smiles and there’s something in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher. A secret that only Steve seems to know. “Yeah, exactly. Easy.”

Eddie feels the flush on his face deepen underneath Steve’s gaze and he needs a way out before he starts doing something incredibly stupid like drag him to the bathroom just to see what happens when he calls Steve darlin’. 

“You want a refill?” Eddie says quickly, gesturing towards the empty beer bottle on the table. “My treat.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Eddie.”

The sound of his own name rolling off Steve’s tongue almost makes Eddie  stumbles as he stands up  makes his way towards the bar. Smooth, Munson, real fuckin’ smooth.

“Two beers please.” Eddie tells Pat, drumming his ring-adorned hands on the faded wood of the bar.

“Here ya go.” Pat says, handing him the drinks. Eddie’s about to turn back, when she stops him. “Ed, I don’t mean to mess with your head or anythin’… But are ya sure that boy’s straight?”

Eddie snorts. “What’d you mean? ‘Course he is.”

“Well, I won’t be so sure about that, kiddo.” Pat says with a knowing smile. “I’ve been seein’ the way he looks at you tonight and well… let’s just say it’s the same way I look at Tish every morning I wake up next to her.”

Eddie looks up to where Steve’s chatting with Jack, one of the older regulars who’s an actually banjo player in his spare time. He just watches them for a minute, a soft smile playing around his lips, the one he always gets when he’s looking at Steve. 

Steve looks up and their eyes meet, a bright smile appearing on his face as he wiggles his hands in the air to wave at Eddie. He seems so happy and he’s never looked more beautiful. 

Christ, Eddie’s so in love with him.

“That. That look right there. No one looks at their platonic friend like that. Not when there are other feelings involved.” Pat says firmly. “You might wanna start re-thinkin’ this whole situation, Ed.” She adds cryptically and returns to where she’s drying off another glass.

A tingly feeling spreads all over Eddie’s body, a shiver running up his spine. It should feel nice, it does feel nice, but at the same time Eddie knows it’s actually the worst feeling in the world.

Hope. 

tag list: 

@solosnail @gothbat99 @unclewaynemunson @legitcookie @henderdads @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinisthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @magpiemuseum @mightbeasleep @maya-custodios-dionach @theokatz @this-earlobe-is-naked

[peachy-panic]

Companion, pt. 1

New Do No Harm content? In the current timeline? In 2024 the year of our lord? Could it be?

Here's part 1 of a couple-part saga in the Sebastian contract, which I lightly foreshadowed here.

WARNINGS: Not much outside the usual BBU tag and the uncomfortable power dynamics that come with it.

The house is warm when Sebastian gets home, in every sense of the word. A candle flickers an inviting glow on the coffee table, and the smell of garlic and onions rushes to greet him. As expected, he finds Jaime posted in the kitchen, tending to his latest creation on the stovetop. On the small bluetooth radio beside the toaster, a song he doesn’t recognize is playing.

It’s taking some time for Sebastian to get used to coming home to someone. For so long, for most of this adult life, it has been dark, empty apartments or cold, distant roommates, never allowed past arm’s length. And now, there’s Jaime, who has entered his life like a bullet and smiles over his shoulder when Sebastian walks into the room. 

He is getting better these days at reading his smiles, and this one, at least, appears to be genuine. Relieved, almost, that he is home. 

“Hi,” Jaime says first.

“Hello,” Sebastian echoes, dropping his coat over the back of a barstool. “What are we making?”

“It’s an Ezra recipe,” Jaime says, wiping his palms on his pants. “Is soup okay tonight? If that’s not substantial enough, I am happy to make something else with it.”

Sebastian does not let his smile drop or fade, no matter how desperately uncertain Jaime sounds. “Soup sounds great, Jaime. It smells amazing.”

It’s the truth, too. It’s a difficult balance, wanting to compliment his prowess in the kitchen and appreciate the genuine joy he seems to derive from it, while also trying not to think of the how and why. Sebastian doesn’t know much about what “training” looks like inside the facility, especially for the specialized domestic tasks that would have been assigned to Jaime, and he doesn’t particularly like speculating on the details. From everything he’s seen in the clinic, he knows that none of it is pleasant.

“How was work?’ Jaime asks, then seems to catch himself. He stiffens, looking sheepishly away. “Sorry. You probably aren’t allowed to talk about that.”

Sebastian snorts. “If only doctor-patient confidentiality applied in a place like that.” The words come out before he can consider the significance they carry to the person he’s speaking to. Guilt spikes sharp in his chest. “Sorry, that wasn’t…”

“It’s okay.” Jaime smiles, but it’s a tense, brittle line. 

“Um.” Sebastian clears his throat, trying to get their conversation back on the rails before he ruins the evening completely. “My day was okay. It was fine.” He shakes his head, pressing his fingers briefly to his eyes. “That was a lie. It was terrible, as usual. I don’t think I need to convince you that having a good day in that building would be a poor reflection of one’s character.” 

So much for salvaging the conversation, Tate. 

“Anyway, how was your day?” 

Jaime pulls the hand towel down from his shoulder and begins wiping at an invisible spot on the counter. “It was fine, thank you.”

Sebastian watches him, trying hard not to scrutinize the pre-packaged reply. His answer is always something of the same tune when Sebastian inquires about his day, never anything less than “fine,” never forthcoming on the details. It’s not the first time it’s sent Sebastian into a bit of a spiral about a concern he’s had from the very beginning: how does Jaime spend his days? Is he happy here? Has Sebastian provided him with enough resources to carve out some semblance of a life here?

He has tried. He has provided him access to the internet and all the movies streaming had to offer, he bought Jaime a reading tablet and granted blanket permission to fill it with as many books as he wants, he has given enthusiastic encouragement for Jaime to go for runs or walks whenever he’d like. It doesn’t feel like enough. He still ends up spending his long days at work wondering if Jaime is at home feeling like a prisoner. 

Sebastian pushes the thought away for now. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asks.

“It’s almost done, actually.” Jaime taps the excess liquid from the wood spoon and lays it on a ceramic dish. “Just needs a few more minutes to simmer. Sorry, I hoped it would be ready by the time you got home.”

Sebastian gives him a look. “You don’t have to cook at all,” he says. “Let alone have it hot and waiting at the table. You’re aware of my microwave burrito phase? My standards are low.”

“I remember.” Jaime assures him.  “I don’t mind, though. I like trying new recipes. Ezra lent me a cookbook. I tabbed a few that look interesting. If they look good to you, that is.”

“You have yet to steer me wrong. I’m starting to think it’s impossible for you to cook anything less than a masterpiece.”

The slight stutter in Jaime’s stirring is quick enough that Sebastian can brush it off as his imagination. 

“It passes the time,” Jaime says, a bit quieter. 

“What?”

“Cooking. Planning the meals, ordering the ingredients. Prep and cook time,” he elaborates. “It’s productive, is all I mean.” Jaime has gone tense, the way he does when he seems to say more than he means to, but he recovers quickly. 

The soup is ready shortly after, and dinner is delicious as always, but Sebastian can’t get out of his own head enough to really enjoy it. Jaime’s words—it passes the time—bounce around inside his skull, breaking open all sorts of subtext and confirming all of Sebastian’s fears. 

They’re cleaning up afterward, Sebastian scrubbing the dishes while Jaime dries, when a thought that’s been brewing spills out of his mouth. 

“Have you ever had any pets?” Sebastian asks, apropos of absolutely nothing. Jaime shoots him a quick side glance without pausing in his work. 

“Once,” he says after a beat. 

Sebastian knows it’s tricky ground, getting too close to details from Jaime’s past. He knows the rules he is bound by and how closely Jaime tries to follow them, even if sometimes Sebastian thinks he might be getting more and more comfortable with little rebellions. Sebastian is still riding the high from a couple weeks prior when Jaime had gifted him and Ezra the small nugget of truth that he used to play soccer, in his life before the system. What might have been an insignificant detail to anyone else was such a fragile, entrusted thing.

Sebastian doesn’t want to pry, though. He decides to keep his questions more general. 

“Do you like animals?”

“Yes.” That answer comes much quicker. 

“Would you…” Sebastian pauses, making sure he’s positive about the proposition he is making before he makes it. He is. “Tell me honestly if this isn’t something you’re interested in, and I won’t be offended in the slightest. I was wondering… if that might be something you would be interested in. Having a pet here.”

Jaime takes a minute to answer, like he’s choosing each word carefully. “Would it be solely for my benefit?”

“No,” Sebastian assures him, and it’s not a lie. “It’s something I’ve thought about before, but I don’t have a lot of experience with pets. Zero, to be exact, unless you count a goldfish that lived for under a week when I was seven.” He pauses. “I do worry about you getting lonely, though. Staying here by yourself all the time.”

“I don’t mind being alone.”

“I know. I just wonder if it might be nice to have some company. Something to look after.” Something to bring you comfort. Anything to make you happy here. 

A quiet falls over them, interspersed with the sound of running water and dishes clanking around in the sink, and Sebastian starts to think of how to walk this back. Because clearly this is something that gives Jaime pause. 

“What about…” Jaime starts, then stops. Sebastian puts down the dish he is working on and looks at him. Jaime meets his eyes for a split second and then averts them again. “Would you keep it, even after I’m gone?”

And shit. Maybe it’s a good thing he put the cup down in the sink, because Sebastian is pretty sure it would have shattered in his hand from the force of his grip. And he realizes, not for the first time, that the longevity of this… arrangement is something they need to talk about. In detail. At length. Soon. But now doesn’t seem like the right time. 

“If I brought a living creature into my home,” he starts carefully, “then this would become its home, too. It will be here for the long haul.”

After a long, weighty silence, he sees Jaime nod in his periphery. 

“I think I’d like that.”

****

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply  @cyborg0109  @whumplr-reader  @pinkraindropsfell  @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight @handsinmotion @alexmundaythrufriday @scoundrelwithboba

[vendetta-if]

Nah that was so mean... do it again😈 In all seriousness tho, how would ash and rin would react/feel if the one who gives mc the hickey is the other? Would that makes them slightly more relieved? Or would it makes them even more conflicted? Or maybe something else?

For those who haven’t seen the hickey saga, click here and here 😉

Well, this might be the last questions relating to the infamous hickey ask I’ll answer for now. This is assuming the poly has not come into their minds yet 😈

Ash

Ash sees them entering the room together. MC is ducking their head sheepishly while Rin is walking beside them, a shit-eating smirk, pointing at MC’s neck.

Huh, what’s wrong with MC’s throat? They squint their eyes and finally see it. Marks. Ash’s heart sinks and it feels as if the floor has been pulled beneath their feet. They don’t even need to ask to know what marks those are.

Rin is laughing—a rarity—at something MC says, and MC’s face turns even redder. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe and Ash only has one thing in their mind: They have to get away from here.

Quickly, they duck out of the room before MC or Rin can catch a glimpse of them. Their mind is racing a thousand miles a minute and their heart is pumping hard from the stress. They feel sick.

They’ve had suspicions that Rin has feelings for MC ever since they were all kids. Rin smiles too much around MC. But they never thought that they and MC would… would really get together… before Ash can even confess their feelings to MC as well.

Ash should’ve shot their shot. What if MC had feelings for them too? Then… that means it’s Ash’s fault for not trying to confess earlier.

Aargh! Stupid, stupid, Ash! Now, it’s too late! You’ve fucked up your chances and you have no one to blame but yourself!

But at least… at the very least… it’s Rin, right? Rin is smart and the marriage with MC would mean a tighter alliance and better future for both the Morozov and the Aikawa. It’s just… perfect, like it’s meant to be.

MC seems happy too and that’s all that matters to Ash. But they can’t deny, it still hurts. A lot. And they’re not sure how long it would take for them to fully recover from this—if it’s even possible.

Rin

Rin hears the commotion first and as they turn from looking out the panoramic window at the cityscape beyond, they see Ash and MC walking into the room.

MC is strutting in confidently while Ash trails beside them, a fabric in their hands and they seem to fuss over MC, trying to get them to wear the scarf, face tomato red.

Huh, what are those two up to again? They squint their eyes and they finally notice it. Love bites. On MC’s throat. Oh…

Their heart clenches painfully in their chest and they feel cold all over. Fuck… It’s not really a feeling they’ve felt so acutely before. Heartbreak. Jealousy. They are aware of them, of course, but they had been lucky enough to have never experienced them before this.

But now that they feel it for the first time, they kinda wish they never fell in love at all. Rin knows deep inside that their feelings for MC just kept growing despite their best efforts to bury it deep down—a small secret act of rebellion against his father.

Maybe they shouldn’t have done that. Maybe they shouldn’t have played hard-to-get for so long. Maybe they should have shown clearer interest in MC. Maybe… Maybe they should’ve known that MC and Ash would’ve gotten together eventually. It doesn’t take a precog to predict that.

They’ve seen Ash’s crush on MC ever since they were all kids. It’s a miracle it takes this long for them to get together—all those times, wasted opportunity. Rin couldn’t even truly be mad at Ash for this outcome. Sometimes, you wonder whether Ash would be willing to share…

Ash and MC are approaching them, taking their mind off the bitter thoughts, but the turmoil is still there roiling inside their head. For a second, they consider just turning around and walking away, but decide to try act casual instead.

It’s hard when your heart is breaking and you feel sick to your stomach from self-hatred over the irreversible mistakes they’ve made. But they steel themself, clenching their fists and taking in a shaky breath. I can do this, they think as they plaster on a little smirk on their face that feels too similar to a grimace.

[surely-galena]

So I finally read Vyn’s Winterwish SR Timeless Wishes and it has NO right to be this funny. I was laughing the whole way through

First, we continue the saga of Vyn unable to handle the cold (like fair enough dude, he’s wearing THREE layers in this card -- vest, shirt, turtleneck). Attached screenshot is from the Blizzardous Threads of Red invitation where we see Vyn trying to imply he is this close to freezing. (It's because he's not wearing gloves...)

And then MC goes ahead and calls him a PATHETIC MEOW MEOW--

Next up, we have Vyn getting unintentionally psychoanalyzed by the handicraft shop owner. Hey. Hey Vyn... how does it feel to have the tables turned on you...

Then Vyn and MC return home and we get THIS BIT that still makes me laugh:

Vyn, what are you using Ogier for??? Is cleaning your room all the SPECIALLY TRAINED BODYGUARD is good for? This is so hilariously baffling to me. Does Ogier literally drop by Vyn's place just to tidy up? Is he going to walk into the room and sigh at the sight of Vyn's bedroom floor covered in a ridiculous amount of yarn? And this begs the question: what else does Vyn call on Ogier for? To deep clean the kitchen?? Ogier, my guy, I genuinely wonder how you feel about this because you are not beating the butler allegations...

Okay, and then we get some wholesome fluff where Vyn and MC exchange gifts, but Vyn looks so perplexed at MC's collection of wishing cards that I had to include this screenshot. MC truly never fails to surprise him.

And then after the card story is done, we get THIS text conversation when MC declares she wants to make... DIY slime. Vyn's reaction is what makes this part for me. Mr Fancy Two Degrees honestly had no clue what slime was and was probably mildly concerned at her suggestion (although she explains what she means by slime after the cutoff).

Vyn, expecting normal activities like crochet or pressing flowers: What shall we try next?

MC, incredibly up-to-date on all the current trends: slime!!! :DD

Vyn: say what now

-

The second text message references the Cooking Card again and I just thought it was hilarious that Vyn purposely misunderstands the point of the card. He uno reversed the situation on her, but I can't really fault him for that. It's definitely a Vyn move.

[lucem-stellarum]

I could totally believe that somewhere in the hoodie thief saga that Guy... wait. Let me set the scene.

-(faintly, from the other room) Honey, have you seen my hoodie?

-No, I mean MY hoodie. The one I wore to that thing last weekend (his voice gets louder and clearer as he walks in)

-Aww, you're so cute Honey, wearing my hoodie in our bed. But it's cooold and I need it back now.

-(mock offended) Yes it's my hoodie. Just because I let you wear it sometimes doesn't make it yours.

-Now let's not get all technical about who actually bought it. That doesn't matter. It's mine. My hoodie. And I need it back. So give.

-No? No? wHaT dO yOu mEaN no? (Guy's voice wavers in exaggerated desperation)

-(in the same tone as Miette) Oh! Oh, how cruel! You leave me bereft, at the mercy of the tumultuous elements, nigh at the edge of perishing from the cold! Won't you take mercy on one such as me?

-Well, that's not fair. Honey, please? It's freezing in here. You can have the whole blanket all to yourself.

-Sticking your tongue out at me? Rude! But if you're gonna be like that I can think of better things to be doing with it, ifyouknowwhatimean? (He does that one sound. You know the one. I have no idea how to transliterate it)

-Fine then. I guess we're just gonna have to share. It's our hoodie now. (Sounds of rustling fabric. His voice gets slightly muffled again) Don't yell at me! This way we both get what we want. I know my hands are cold, I told you it was freezing out here.

-You know, struggling like this is really making this sharing thing more difficult. Heh, but if you really want me to I could just stay here, with my face pressed against your chest. (Again, that one noise.)

-Okay, okay, I get it. Just hold still while I...

-(his voice gets clearer, and extremely close) Well hello there, beautiful. Come here often? I know I do, heh.

-You're so cute when you're embarrassed. Don't try to deny it, I can see you're blushing. (Kiss noises)

-Yeah I'm gonna kiss you. I love you. Even if you are an unrepentant hoodie thief (he gets cut off by a kiss from the listener)

-You know that's not fair, right? Kissing me to make me stop talking is just rude.

-Yes it is! (mock outrage) Just because it's a reliable way to get me to stop telling the TRUTH doesn't make it not rude! Besides, it's an overused cliche that completely disregards any legitimate concerns of the kissee. Yes, kissee is a real word. It's French.

-(sincerely) No, Honey, I'm not actually mad. You know I love your kisses. 10/10, would be kissed again. Can we snuggle now? It's snuggle time.

-Do you wanna be the big spoon or the little spoon? Awww yiss, I love being the little spoon. So warm and cozy. (rustling noises again).

-Yeah, Honey, I love you too.

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: I

Chapter One: Signed and Sealed

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 4,353

Content Warning: Not smut yet (apologies), references to SA, drugs, violence, threats of violence, crime, food talk, weight talk

Author's Notes: An everlasting and beautiful thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for their never-ending THOTs, hot takes, and for beta'ing this. Your support is why I adore this platform - Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜 Y'all say thank you to Nevy for basically brainstorming this with me!

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry.

I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! 👌

--------<3---------

The reality of the situation was hitting you hard. Your older brother, the one most would think of as a protector, had betrayed you in the worst way imaginable.  

He had a drug problem for the majority of his adult life, but now it had become a full-blown catastrophe. Steven, your brother, owed money to some of the worst people in the state, maybe even the country. The Frontiersmen, a powerful syndicate, had allowed him to rack up a ridiculous debt that they knew he wouldn’t be able to pay, but you didn’t know what he’d put down as collateral – you. 

You were now nothing more than a bargaining chip to prolong your brother’s coke problem and buy him more credit. You were now property being handed over to a terrifying group of men who made a profit off of people’s darkest needs. 

“I know... I know I fucked up... I know I did.”, Steven sobbed into his hands in front of you. “I thought I’d be able to pay them back...” 

You sat in your living room, numb to it all, watching Steven cry. You knew he was sorry now, but you doubted it was because of what he’d done to you. No, you were sure it had more to do with the fact that the Frontiersmen had cut him off until he paid his debt. Until you were turned over to pay that debt. 

You weren't sure if it was minutes or hours that you sat and watched him sob in your living room, but it was interrupted by a knock at your door. Your head took a minute to process that your body was already moving and opening the door. 

Standing in front of you was a tall, blond man and a shorter, dark haired man. Both their eyes were on you in cold stares. You just stared right back. You guessed who they were, or at least what they were doing here at your apartment. Wordlessly, you stepped aside and opened the door to allow them entrance.  

The taller, blond man moved passed you and into the living room while the smaller, dark haired man waited for you to move so he could close the door and lock it. 

You gave him a curt smile and nod, stepping back away from the door.  

After closing the door, he turned around and looked you up and down, with a small, yet menacing smile. He huffed in a dry laugh before motioning you to the living room. 

A sour feeling washed over you and your mouth salivated like you were going to be sick, but you looked down and walked into the living room where your brother was on his knees in front of the blond man. 

“... so she had no idea you signed her life away?”, the blond man scowled then turned to look at you. 

His icy stare caused you to shrink and wrap your arms around yourself.  You stepped back, bumping into the shorter, dark haired man. His hands came to your arms gently and he held you in place. 

“Benny...”, he warned in a low tone. “We came here for two things: payment and a reminder.” 

Your body trembled in his hold, and he rubbed your arms gently. You knew better than to believe he actually gave a shit about you, and he was more than likely doing this to get you to go with them without making a scene. You weren't going to resist; their reputation was more than enough incentive to go quietly. 

“He’s a shitbag, Pope... fucking sold out his sister!”, he barks, his eyes narrowing at you, then snapping to the other man while he motioned his hand at you. “She didn’t even know!” 

“Payment, Benny!”, Pope spoke sharply. “Payment and a reminder. That’s it.” 

You jumped when Pope’s volume increased but stayed in place, and Benny looked at you again, his eyes now reading more furious than cold. 

You swallowed thickly, the lump in your throat growing, and looked down.  

“I’ll fucking remind this sonofabitch...”, Benny muttered as pulled out a rag and wrapped it around his fist. 

Your lip trembled and Pope’s hands stopped their gentle rubbing, and he held your arms a little firmer, pulling you back against him. 

“You don’t need to see this, honey.”, he said softly in your ear, causing you to shudder at the warmth and tenor of his voice. “Unless you want to...” 

You kept your gaze low, not noticing the look of remorse and sympathy Benny gave you as you shook your head.  

“Come on then.”, Pope said softly, turning you around and tilting your face up to his with his finger and thumb on your chin. “Are you gonna behave or do I have to cuff you?” 

Your eyes widened and your body’s trembling intensified; you shook your head and squeaked out, “I... I’ll behave.” 

Pope smiled at you, eyes roving over your face, and he nodded. “Let’s get some things packed up for you and head to the car.” 

He watched as your shaky hands packed a bag in your bedroom; clothing, toiletries and personal items. He confiscated your cell phone and laptop, saying that they had to be secured first and you might get them back.  He picked up your packed back and led you to the door. 

The last thing you heard as Pope led you out was the sickening sound of a fist hitting flesh and Steven scream. 

***** 

Frankie was a reluctant leader. He didn’t ask to be put in charge, but his strategic problem solving, and his restrained demeanor worked in his favour to put him at the top. 

Since Tom was taken out, both Pope and Will had said that Frankie was the best choice to lead the Frontiersmen if he gave up his coke habit. Kicking that was easy; the hard part was filling the void that was left. But he found something with relative ease. 

Will watched Frankie as he finished his large pizza; he was now used to watching Frankie eat in their meetings. He’d watched as Frankie had gone from being a lean and muscled soldier with an angular face to what the new leadership role had carved him into over the past few years – big. His thick and muscled arms stretched his sleeves, his face was fuller with a patchy beard, and big belly pulled every shirt he owned taut around the middle when he hadn’t eaten to capacity. Despite his weight gain, Will was glad his friend and boss was off the smack. 

“Where’s Pope and Benny?”, Frankie asked between bites. 

“Picking up payment from that skid, Steven. Not money.”, Will said, eyes down in his notes, avoiding Frankie’s questioning look. 

“Not money?” 

“The collateral he put his debt against.”, Will said in a blunt tone, hoping to move on before having to elaborate. “We have a few things we need to iron out when they get back...” 

“Collateral but not money?”, Frankie asked again in a firmer tone. “Explain what the fuck that means.” 

Will sighed. This ‘collateral’ was a holdover from when Tom was in charge, and despite him not liking it, he felt it necessary to hold Steven accountable and take what they were owed; he agreed to the decision with Pope to move forward, and they were both going to tell Frankie about it. But Pope wasn’t back yet, and it was left to Will. 

“It’s not money.”, Will said, avoiding Frankie’s raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah... I got that. So, what is it?” 

“His sister.” 

Frankie groaned and put his head in his hands. “Please, for the love of god, tell me Pope isn’t bringing back a person in lieu of payment.” 

“He is.” Will kept his eyes low. He knew he and Santi were taking a risk doing this, especially given they were going above Frankie’s head. But they also knew that Frankie needed to put fear in the minds of anyone who had a debt to pay. 

Frankie’s jaw tightened and he sat back and looked at Will. 

“Will.”, he barked. “Look at me and tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

“It’s an old contract we had with this guy... it was done up under Tom.”, Will paused, then sat forward, hardening his tone. “Look, Pope made the call and I agreed. You need to scare the people that owe you money; you need to collect on your debts. People are starting to think you’re going soft, Fish.” 

It wasn’t a lie. Frankie was more lenient than Tom was, allowing for extensions and lighter repercussions. There were more people willing to deal with late penalties than actually pay, and Will didn’t want this to get out of hand. He just wished Pope was here to tell Frankie himself. 

“Fuck.”, Frankie snapped. “Maybe so, Will, but we’re not human traffickers! We don’t take people!” 

“Steven has a big mouth. He’s not going to sit on this. He's going to run his mouth, looking for help to get her back. Words going to get out that you – YOU, Frankie – took his fucking sister. He’s not going to tell anyone that he put her down as collateral. He’s going to paint you as the asshole who took what he was owed. It’s good PR.”  

Will sat back, hoping this would be enough to keep Frankie from losing his shit. 

“So, we took some girl because this fucking skid couldn’t pay.”, Frankie spat out, clenching his fist. He raised his voice, yelling, “And my name gets dragged through the mud as the fucker who called for it?” 

Will raised his hands, trying to calm him. “Your reputation as someone not willing to let debts go unpaid is solidified, Fish.” 

Frankie sat back, aghast. His mind suddenly went to Steven’s sister.  

“Did she know?” 

Will looked down at his notebook, then up again. “I don’t think so. Pope messaged and said she was pretty shook up.” 

Frankie let out a heavy sigh and put his head back in his hands. “What else did he say?” 

Will hesitated with a smile on his face and waited for Frankie to look at him. “He said she’s hot.” 

***** 

You didn’t look out the window to see where you were headed. Sitting between the two men, you glanced over at Benny, seeing the small spatter of blood on his sleeves – your brother’s blood. A sick vindication warmed your cheeks, knowing he was at least bleeding for what he’d done, even if it wasn't specifically for what he’d done to you. 

Benny noticed you looking at his hands, and he grinned.  

“He pissed his pants.”, he chuckled. “Had the nerve to beg me not to hurt him.” 

You nodded, eyes darting back to your own hands in your lap. While it gave you a moment of reprieve from the imminent doom creeping through your mind, it didn’t help the situation he put you in. 

The car slowed to a stop and Pope opened the door, getting out.  

“Benny, take her to the rec room. I’ll get Fish.” 

Your blood ran cold. Fish, otherwise known as Big Fish, was the head of the Frontiersmen and it scared you shitless to know you were going to meet him. 

Benny nudged you. “Come on, honey.” 

You looked up at him, trembling, and nodded. Shakily taking his hand, he helped you out of the car. Grabbing your bag from the trunk, he put his hand on the small of your back and guided you inside the building. 

“Shakin’ like a leaf, honey.”, he mused. “Just behave like a good girl and you got nothing to worry about.” 

You nodded again, feeling your chin quiver. Behave like a good girl. What does that mean? Sudden realization washes over you in a cold sweat as to what payment they could want from you. Your breathing became ragged at the thought of what they would do to you, do to your body.  

Benny opened a door to a rec room with some men playing darts, drinking, talking. 

“Clear out, boys. Boss’s coming down.”, Benny boomed. 

All eyes were on you now, and with a firm look from Benny, they began to leave, murmuring and hushed voices wondering who you were and what was going on.  

“Didn’t ask for you to clear out slow, boys!”, he barked angrily, making you flinch. “Fuckin’ move!” 

With that, the room was cleared almost instantly, and Benny led you to an armchair, guiding you to sit. 

“You want anything, honey?”, he motioned to the fridge, walking towards it, looking at you with a warm smile. 

You shook your head, keeping your eyes low.  

“You sure? We got some soda, beer... “, he said, taking stock of what was in the fridge, then turning back to you. His face fell when he saw the thousand-yard stare in your eyes. 

He tapped the fridge with his fingers, thinking. He didn’t like that you were being used like this. You were pretty and seemed sweet, and definitely didn’t deserve what your skid mark of a brother had done to you.  

“Hey. Can you cook?” 

You look over to him and nod slowly.  

“What’s your specialty?” 

“My… my what?”, you asked, shaking your head. 

“What’s your go to recipe that you know you’re good at makin’, honey?”, he responded, closing the fridge and leaning against it, facing you. 

“I… I make a pretty good lasagna.” 

Benny’s grin was wide, and he nodded. “Perfect.” 

***** 

“What the fuck were you thinking?”, Frankie bellowed at Pope, slamming his fist down. 

Both he and Will were seated at the table in the office while Frankie stood, reprimanding them. 

“Fish… the guy’s a fucking junkie and he wasn’t going to be able to pay. Just took what we’re owed – what you’re owed!”, Pope tried to reason. 

“I’m not owed a fucking person, Pope! You shoulda just let Benny break his legs or something.” 

“Broken leg isn’t enough for his debt, Frank.”, Will said calmly, leaning back in his chair. “He owed way too much money. Broken leg, even legs, isn’t going to cut it. Needed to be bigger. Something to scare him and anyone else not paying shitless.” 

Frankie held onto the back of his chair and shook his head angrily. “Why didn’t you ask? Why didn’t you fucking talk to me first?” 

Before Will could try and reason with Frankie, Pope casually said with a smile, “Because I knew you would’ve balked at it. Would’ve said no.” 

Will sighed and gave Pope a glare and Frankie looked at him, furious. 

“So, you run this fucking show now?”, Frankie growled with his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the chair.  

Pope’s smile fell and he raised his hands. “Not what I meant, Frankie. I just saw an opportunity for you to make a statement and – “ 

Frankie harshly threw the chair out of his way and stalked over to Pope, leaning over him and spoke in a terrifyingly low growl. 

“You go around me one more fucking time, Santiago, I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” 

He kept his face, full of contempt and fury, close to Pope’s, and Pope nodded at him, sweating under Frankie’s glare, knowing full well what he was capable of – cutting off limbs being one of those things. 

“You, too.”, Frankie snarled as he stood up, pointing at Will. “Understood?” 

They both nodded. Frankie’s loud voice and stature, wide shoulders and strong arms, already made him intimidating when he was mad, but with the added bulk he was carrying, he was downright terrifying. 

“Yeah, un-understood.”, Pope stammered.  

“What do you want us to do with her?”, Will asked quietly. 

Frankie leaned back on the table; it groaned under his weight.  

“You brought her here with no plan for her? What the fuck is wrong with – “ 

Will interjected quickly. “She could be useful… for you.” 

“What?”, Frankie barked, standing up. 

Pope knew where Will was going with and added with a dark grin. “She’s a fucking hottie, Fish. Could be useful.” 

Frankie shook his head and looked at Will, ignoring Pope’s comment, and speaking in a harsh tone. What do you mean – useful for me?” 

Will swallowed. “Maybe she’s got some skills, can be put to work. If Pope’s right and she’s cute, what’s the harm? Not like she could say no to you.” 

Frankie thought for a moment. She could say no… and if he fucked her anyway, what did that say about him?  

“Jesus, Will…”, he huffed, shaking his head. His eyes coldly looked up and met Will’s, and growled loudly, “The fuck is wrong with you? I expect that kind of shit from him, but not you.” 

Frankie moved and stood right in front of Will, arms crossed and glaring down at him. 

“That’s not what we do.”, he snarled lowly. “That’s what fucking Tom did.” 

Will glanced at Pope before nodding at Frankie.  

He held the glare with Will for a moment longer then looked between the two men. 

“Where is she?”, he sighed. 

“With Benny. In the rec room.”, Pope murmured. 

Frankie rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, then motioned for Will get her. 

***** 

Benny had been trying his hardest to keep you calm and distracted with questions and musings for the last hour and a half. He was occasionally interrupted by one of the grunts – as he called them – wandering in to hang out, not having gotten the run down from any of the other guys that the rec room was closed, and Benny would chase them out. 

“… so this guy’s got a wrench and I only got a plastic spoon, and he’s comin’ at me with it – “ 

Benny’s story is interrupted by the door opening. He turned to yell at whoever it was to get out but stopped when another tall, blond man walked into the room. He looked you over quickly and nodded his head to Benny. 

Benny stood up and walked towards the man and speaking softly. As they spoke, you could only hear bits and pieces, but you were able to pick up was that this man’s name was probably Will and Benny told him you could cook. 

Will held his hand up to shush Benny and walked towards you. He sat down in the armchair Benny previously occupied, while Benny stood to your other side, hands in his jean pockets. 

Will let out a long sigh as he sat back, elbow on the armrest and chin on his fist. You could feel his eyes burning over you as you kept your own low and on his shoes. 

“Benny says you can cook.”, his voice was cool and flat, with a slight lilt to it.  

You nodded. “Yeah… yes. I can cook.” You tried to match at least his flat tone, but the fear Benny had spent the last while trying to quell had sunk its fang s back into you. 

Will nodded and looked at Benny, nudging his head to let him know he could leave -  he should leave.  

Benny huffed a nervous breath and left the room. But he didn’t go far; you could see his shadow lingering under the door. 

“Not gonna beat around the bush, honey. Boss doesn’t want you here, and frankly, neither do I.”, he said plainly with a hint of warmth. 

While there was no malice in his voice, the smoldering anger in his eyes said otherwise. You nodded.  

“But you’re here, and you say you can cook. Boss needs someone to cook for him since the last one was caught stealing and… went for a swim.” 

“I can cook… wha-what does the boss like?”, you ignored his last statement and forced yourself to speak. 

“Boss likes pretty girls.”, Will chuckled with a small smile, leaning forward and putting a hand on your knee. “Especially likes pretty girls that can be useful.” 

You lowered your head and nodded, trying to hold back the full body shudder that was desperately trying to rip through you. 

He watched you closely when he spoke, trying to get a reading on how easily you were intimidated. While he knew Frankie would more than likely act like you weren’t there, he couldn’t say the same for Pope or himself, let alone any of the other men, and until Frankie said you were off limits, you were fair game. 

“Don’t be shy, honey. No one else here is gonna be.”, he said with a dark chuckle. “Look at me.” 

You looked up at him and the menacing glare in his eyes glowed.  

“Just behave like a good girl. You might make it out of here alive.” 

***** 

The Benny who had tried to console you was gone the moment you walked out of the rec room with Will. He was now cold and stoic, no emotion, and he was intimidating. Benny walked ahead of you and Will walked beside you, his arm around your waist and they led you down the hallway. 

Benny turned and opened a door, walking in and standing to the side, remaining at the door as if to keep guard. 

It was an office. At the far end was a floor-to-ceiling window that spanned the wall, looking out onto the pier, with a desk in front if it, facing you. Behind the desk was a large, high back swivel chair, and in front of it were four plush lounge chairs, arranged to face the desk. Along the sides of the office were shelves containing books, pictures, and other personal odds and ends. Everything was either wood or brass, unless it was upholstered; the room was dated and smelled like stale cigars, old wood, and another scent that took you a minute to place - pizza. 

Will ushered you to sit in one of the centre chairs facing the desk and stood behind you with his hand on your shoulder, as if he thought you might try and escape – you’d given up on that idea back in your apartment. 

There were a pair of footsteps approaching outside the door and your body stiffened; Will gave your shoulder a squeeze as the door opened. You kept your head low and forward, not daring to look at who came in, although you were sure you knew who it was. 

Pope came and sat in the chair next to you and smiled. Will removed his hand and sat in the chair on your other side, and Benny stood behind you. Heavy footsteps moved between your and Will’s chairs, and then you saw him.  

He was tall with broad shoulders, and was wearing fitted, faded jeans and a black and red bowling shirt. His crossed arms stretched the sleeves, and the desk creaked as he leaned back on it. You dared to look up at his face, and you were taken aback; instead of the steely blue stare you got from Benny or Will, or the dark, cold void that Pope had, you were met with big brown, warm eyes looking you over, and a soft face sporting patchy facial hair and mustache. His hair was dark brown and slicked back. Your eyes flicked down his large frame quickly and you noted how his buttons pulled across his ample stomach.  

“Huh.”, he mused quietly as his eyes trailed over you more blatantly. His tongue flicked between his lips softly as if he were thinking.  

“Pope was right. You’re cute.”, he huffed, putting a toothpick in his mouth. “I don’t have any fuckin’ use for cute.” 

“She cooks.”, Will interjected.  

Frankie’s eyes darted to Will and then back to you, and he looks you up and down again. 

“Okay… so you cook.”, Frankie said with a hint of annoyance. “What else you got?” 

Your eyes looked up to his face and you were met with his mouth pulled into a tight line and his eyes baring down on you; the intensity of his stare was almost too much. He raised a brow at you as if to say I asked you a question. 

You looked back down at your hands, needing to break the connection your eye contact with him had made. 

“I used to… used to work in an office. I can file, balance books… other administrative… things - ” 

“Interesting… Tell me you’re thinking the same thing I am, Fish.”, Pope chuckled quietly. “A hot secretary.” 

He turned his attention to you and his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers roving under your skirt and up closer to your crotch. His voice dropped into a honeyed tone, dripping in venom. “You ever fucked your boss, honey? You’ve got four now.” 

You try to not make any movements, but the subtle way you shift screams your discomfort.  

“Jesus, Pope. Stop.”, Benny huffed under his breath behind you.  

Pope chuckled and gave your thigh a squeeze before removing his hand. Frankie’s stare didn’t leave you; he wanted to see how well you handled being the target of men’s overt advances and their groping. His narrowed eyes watched as you tried not to squirm or give a reaction to Santi’s hand or words, and he frowned. 

The only sound in the room was the desk Frankie rested on creaking as he shifted his weight. He sighed deeply.  

“Ben, get her a room set up in the barracks. Take her with you. I’m fuckin’ done looking at this.”, he grunted, motioning his hand aggressively in your direction.  

“I can take her.”, Pope chimed in with a low and crooning voice. You could hear the grin in his voice and his eyes in you, and you wondered what changed from when he came to your apartment to now. 

“Fuck off, Pope!”, Benny hissed. 

“Hey!”, Frankie yelled angrily. “Pope, stay right the fuck where you are. Benny, get her out of here. Now!” 

Benny’s hand quickly came around to your arm, tugging you out of the chair, and out of the room. The last glimpse of Frankie you got was watching him glare at you from his position against the desk. 

--------<3---------

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