#Usually it's not too bad but like. Our air conditioning has been out for like 3 days now

[shima-draws]

Really wish I could fight the schmuck who invented allergies with my bare hands

[phoward89]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4:

In the time that Coryo's been taking care of you, which has been nearly 2 weeks now, you've discovered that he's an enigma. You just can't figure him out. On one hand he can be a right condescending bastard, but on the other hand he can also be very caring and attentive.

Some of his remarks cut deep. They even make you feel frustrated or useless sometimes. You hate feeling like that; you hate that his smug attitude has that effect on you.

But then he has his gentle moments, moments that make you feel cared for. The way he gently runs his calloused fingers down your back when checking its healing progress sends sparks up and down your spine. How he has you lay on top of his chest every night, to keep pressure off of the lashes on your back, while wrapping his arms around you has you swooning. His kisses can be soft and sweet or hungry and feral full of neediness and want, but every kiss you share makes you feel desired.

Yes, he's quite the enigma indeed.

“You think you're healed enough to go to the market with me?” Coryo asks, walking thru the door.

He went back to his peacekeeper duties a few days ago, but that hasn't stopped him from living with you. In fact, he sets an alarm to go off about an hour before wakeup call in order to sneak back into the barracks before dawn. Coryo always presses a kiss to your hair and tells you to go back to sleep before he goes.

You always groan and bury your nose in his pillow.

“Yes, I can go, but why didn't you just do it before coming here?” You reply, finding it a bit odd that he just didn't buy some groceries before returning home- like he usually did.

“Sejanus says that you need to get out and about; that fresh air and walks will be good for your healing.”

“Oh.”

“How bout you take a shower and I'll help you get dressed when you're done, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, rising from the table and heading to the bathroom.

At least Coryo's letting you shower by yourself now. For a while he was bathing you, afraid that you'd hurt your back if you were left to your own devices.

As Coriolanus rooted thru your clothes basket to find you something suitable to wear in the harsh winter weather, his encounter with Sejanus earlier played in his mind like an old movie rerun.

“How's your girl doing, Coryo?” Sejanus asked his friend as they patrolled the streets of the factory sector of the district.

“She's doing better. Her back’s healing, but she still can't put any pressure on it.” Coriolanus explained your condition to his friend. “I've started cutting down her doses of morphling; been giving it to her during the night and leaving her a bottle of aspirin for the day.”

“Has she been out and about yet?”

“No, Sejanus. She hasn't left our apartment.” He told the dark-haired peacekeeper, who in return shook his head at Coriolanus. “What?” Shot out of Coriolanus' mouth faster than a shooting star. “She's been hurt; she lost her coat during the whipping incident, plus I had to start patrol work again. Why would she be out and about?”

“You can't keep her locked up in her apartment, Coryo. She needs fresh air and some exercise to help her healing.” Sejanus explained, hoping that the platinum blonde would see reason.

But, of course, he didn't see reason.

“She knows how to open the window, if she wants fresh air that bad. And she's been walking around the apartment, it's not like I'm a monster that's got her tied up to the bedpost or something.”

“Did you forget that I've been inside of her apartment? She doesn't have a bedpost, her mattress is on the floor with a tiny wooden table next to it.”

“Stop calling it her apartment, I live there too.” Barked out Coriolanus. Pointing at Sejanus, he added in, “And don't worry about our bed. That's my bed with my darling rose, you hear me?”

“Yea, I hear you.” Sejanus heavily sighed. “Look, if she needs a coat and ya’ll are struggling to buy one I can always have Ma send Y/N one in the mail.” The kind hearted peacekeeper offered, hoping that a new coat would help with you being able to leave your apartment. An apartment that Coriolanus insisted was his now too. “As a Christmas present.” Sejanus quickly added in, reminding Coryo that the winter holiday was in a week.

“Yea, Ma can send my girl a coat for Yule.” Coriolanus nodded.

Sejanus smiled, happy that his friend was letting him do something nice for you. If only he could convince Coryo to let you off of your house arrest…

“Coryo, Y/N needs to spend some time with you outside of your apartment. Even just a few minutes will be good for her healing.”

“The last time she went out she got whipped so badly that I had to stitch up half of her back. So, excuse me, Sej, for just wanting to keep her safe; away from people gawking at her because of what happened.”

“She can't stay locked up in that apartment, spending her days in nightgowns waiting for you to come home every night all because you're scared of her getting hurt again; of not being able to protect her- again.” Sejanus told his best friend, trying to get it into the platinum blonde’s thick skull that you needed to see more than the inside of the same 4 walls day after day. “What happened shouldn't have, but it did, Coryo. It did and you've been caring for her better than a nurse could; now it's time to aid in her healing by letting her walk around town for a bit.”

Coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. Sejanus has a point, but he doesn't want to admit it. The district born boy's right, what happened to you shouldn't have happened, but it did because Coryo turned you in. Turned you in without the apple as evidence.

He truly didn't know how harsh your punishment was going to be. He thought a quick flogging, maybe no more then 2 or 3 lashes. But he didn't know that you'd be stripped naked in the snow and whipped repeatedly until you fell down from the pain. God, you had about a dozen lashes on your back and half of them were so deep that you'll have scars. Honestly, Coriolanus felt guilty when he watched you get whipped; felt remorseful and regretted his actions.

But he'd never let himself admit it. No, he keeps rationalizing his actions as the right thing. That you stole, that I'd you didn't steal then he wouldn't have turned you in. That he needed to look good in his superiors eyes, that turning you in got him one step closer to the Capitol.

To home.

But now his plans have slightly altered. Now he has you and he's bringing you home with him.

“Coryo, if you really want to protect her, then maybe you should sign up to take that elite officer's exam. Nobody messes with an officer's girl.” Sejanus told the tall blonde, pulling him out of his mental musings.

“Elite Officer's exam?” Coriolanus parroted, sounding stunned.

“Yea.” Sejanus nodded. “I thought you knew about it.” Apparently nobody told Coriolanus about the exam, but considering he's been trading work days with people to be able to spend so much time tending to you, it's not hard to figure out why nobody told him.

“There's a test in a week or so for an Elite Officer's commission. It's for Naval and Air Force tho, so you'll be shipped out of 8.”

“Thank you for telling me. I'll have to sign up before going home.” Coriolanus gratefully told Sejanus.

Yes, since he's in a good mood he'll take you to the market once he gets off work. You should have a sweater to wear; if not then you can borrow his. God knows he's moved his shit into your place; has the bag nestled right next to your wicker basket at the foot of your bed.

And while on your walk to the market he'll tell you the great news about the Elite Officer's exam he's signing up for.

Once you were finished with your shower, you stepped out of the bathroom and into the main room of your apartment wrapped in a towel. You saw that Coryo had laid out your blue floral dress and orange-russet sweater. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching some kind of orange material in his hand.

Hearing your feet pitter patter across the one-room apartment, he looked up at you and asked, “Do you need any help getting dressed, baby?”

Coryo still asks you that, every time you bathe and need to change, even tho you're able to dress yourself now. You guess he just likes to feel needed; offers to help cause of it.

“No, I'm fine, Coryo.” You told him, coming to a stop at the bed. “But thank you for your offer.” You added in, picking up the cotton panties he laid out for you.

Coryo waggled his brows and lowly whistled, “Can't wait til your back’s fully healed so I can fuck you, baby.”, as you took off your towel and pulled on your panties.

Yea…

You knew he'd want to do that as soon as you got better.

There's just one catch tho.

“I've never been with anyone before, Coryo. You’ll prolly be disappointed with my lack of experience.” You told him, grabbing your dress and pulling it on.

Before you could reach for your sweater, Coryo took your hand in his and tugged you until you fell onto his lap. “Darling, don't say that.” He cooed. “I’m proud to be the only man to ever touch you; your innocence will never disappoint me.” He assured you with a soft smile. “Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know.”

To Coriolanus, you being innocent when it came to sex fueled his ego. Made him feel powerful. Yes, he enjoyed having power over you. Sex was another way to wield that power. Plus thought of being the only man to have you makes him feral with primal, possessive instincts.

You're his, all his!

Pecking you on the lips, he says, “Put your sweater on, little dove. I have something to give you that'll go perfect with it.”

You wondered what he had to give you. Silently, you nod and reach over to grab your sweater. You put it on while still sitting on Coryo's lap.

“This was my mother's; I'd like you to have it, Y/N.” Coryo told you, smiling brightly while handing you the orange bunch of silky material.

“Oh Coryo…” You gasped, taking the offered token from him. Inspecting the bright orange material, you quickly figured out that it was a large scarf or a shawl. “It's so pretty.��� You mused, still in disbelief about receiving a gift of such fine quality. “Are you sure you want me to have it?. It belonged to your mom.” You ask, feeling a bit guilty about accepting the scarf. It belonged to his mom and from the look in his eyes, well, you know that she's gone.

“My mom would've loved you, baby. Please, accept my gift as a token of my affection, darling.” Coriolanus said, taking the scarf from your hands and wrapping it around your neck.

“Okay.” You relented.

Guiding you off of his lap and onto the bed, he told you, “Put on your knee highs; I'll get your boots.”

He picked your stockings up from the bed and handed them to you before going over to where your boots were at. As you pulled on your stockings, he brought you over the boots. Taking them from him, you slid them on.

Once you’re ready, Coryo gives you a closed lip smile and leads you out the door. He’s happy to be going to the market with you. You on the other hand…Well…You're nervous about people seeing you with a peacekeeper.

You and Coryo are walking along the urban streets of District 8, the cold winds chilling the both of you right down to the bone. You’re glued to his side with his arm wrapped protectively around your back. His large hand resting gently on it.

If he wasn't a peacekeeper from the Capitol, people might think that you make a cute couple. But, since he's a peacekeeper and you're a transfer, well…the residents of 8 turn their noses up at you in disgust. Coryo didn't seem to notice tho.

No, he was too caught up in his own upturn of luck to care what the locals thought of him with you. Their opinions didn't matter. They're just dirty dogs, scumbags, and rat bastards in his opinion. And soon Coriolanus will be an Elite Officer in either the Naval or the Air Force division of the Peacekeepers; he'll be getting the two of you out of the shithole you're stuck in and around civilized people.

“Y/N, I got some good news for you.” Coryo announces with excitement in his baritone, grinning from ear to ear; looking a bit like a homicidal maniac from Dateline.

“What is it?” You curiously ask. You two live in a wintery wasteland that's a smog and sweatshop hell. You're also a very unconventional couple, so you can't imagine what his good news is. Seriously, does anything good actually happen in 8?

“I signed up to take an Elite Officer's exam; when I pass we'll be able to leave 8; go to a nicer district or even the Capitol.” Coryo announced, his icy blue eyes gleaming, as his tone was filled with pride.

Hearing that the platinum blonde peacekeeper could possibly get you out of District 8 by becoming an Elite Officer gave you hope that maybe your luck wasn't shitty after all. You'd love to be able to go to a nicer district, like 1 or 2. And the possibility of going to the Capitol.

You…

Wow, it sounded wonderful. Perhaps too good to be true. But one things for certain, you wondered, “What's the difference between an Elite Officer and an Officer, Coryo?”

“An Elite Officer serves in one of the specialty forces- Naval or Air Force, while an Officer serves boots on the ground.” Coriolanus explained as the entrance to the marketplace came into view.

Looking up at him, you ask, “So you really think you can pass your exam; get us out of here?’

“My darling, I know that I'll pass and get us out.” Coryo confidently told you as the two of you walked into the marketplace. “Don't worry, I'll take care of you.” He pressed a kiss to your head.

As Coryo led you over to a produce cart, you could feel stares burning a hole into your back. You know that they're judging you because you're with a peacekeeper. Especially after what happened a couple of weeks back.

You're most likely a pariah now because you're with Coryo. But it’s not like you got into a relationship with him because you wanted to. You had to, because of your back injury. But that doesn't matter because to the citizens of District 8 you’re Peacekeeper's kept woman.

At least you won't be here much longer, since Coryo's slated to take his exam next week and he's positive that he'll pass. That he'll become an Elite Officer and be able to get the both of you out of the textile district of Panem.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3

[georgie-weasley]

Shenanigans F.W. x Reader

Warnings: a few swear words, one mention of abducting, and I think that's it (let me know if I missed something)

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: You and Fred pair up to get George a partner and along the way you learn your feelings for Fred might not be just friendly

Masterlist

It was a rather peaceful Saturday morning. It was a nice November morning and the cool chill in the air mixing with the warmth in the castle only made it better. You were sitting by yourself at the table with a book in one hand and eating breakfast with the other. After breakfast you planned to do some more reading and if it warmed up enough, you might even read outside. All you wanted to do was relax.

“I’ve got a plan and I need your help.” As soon as the words came out of Fred’s mouth, you could sense the trouble that was bound to follow it. He squeezed his way into the spot next to you at the table. He had a wild gleam in his eye and a mischievous smirk on his face. This was gonna be a bad one but you were intrigued. Not to mention he completely threw out any plans to relax as soon as he showed up

“Do tell Fred.” You set down your fork and book and turned to face him. It was not uncommon for Fred to come to you with grand schemes. You, Fred, and George were connected at the hip since first year. People started to call you guys the triplets since there was never a time one of you was seen without the others. You spent summers and holidays with the Weasley family and you were thrilled to say that they all loved you. Molly and Arthur saw you as another daughter and they treated you as such. You got a sweater in your favorite color with your initial each Christmas, a birthday cake each year, and you were punished in the same way. If the twins were grounded for terrorizing poor Ron out of his mind, then you were too, if you were found guilty and you usually were.

“We need to get George a girlfriend.” He smiled brightly and threw an arm around your shoulder. “He’s been so sad about the breakup and the perfect thing for him would be a new relationship.” Fred wasn’t wrong about George being heartbroken but setting him up with someone because he’s hurt over a breakup? That’s dumb.

The three of you were 16 and sweet George was a romantic that wore his heart on his sleeve. He fell in love with anyone that looked him in the eyes or was remotely nice to him. Fred was a flirt but he kept real feelings away. He was more cautious and didn’t fall head over heels for just anyone. You, well there were a few people you found attractive but you never dated anyone. No one really stood out to you. George was the only one that had any sort of semi-serious relationship out of the three of you.

“How can you possibly think that this is the right way to help him move on? Your brother could sniff out a prank a mile away.” You rolled your eyes and moved his arm off of you. “Besides, George has an open heart. What if we find someone and it goes wrong and breaks his heart again? What will you do then?”

Fred only shrugged and stole some food off of your plate. “It’s not a prank, it's just… well I don’t know a different way to say it but it’s not a prank. We’re just trying to find him someone that will love him and won’t break his heart. Come on, I know you want to.”

He was right. George had been moping around for weeks and he hardly ate. He didn’t run around causing trouble and his smile never reached his eyes anymore. It was painful to see your best friend become a shell of who he usually was. While getting him a rebound didn’t seem like the best idea, you didn’t have a better one. “I’ll do it on one condition. We don’t force anyone to like him by paying them or anything.”

“Of course not. Even if I wanted to, I don't have nearly enough money to pay someone to deal with George.” Fred smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Finish breakfast and meet me at the lake. Our quest begins in an hour!” He ran off, weaving between the students making their way into the Great Hall.

An hour later, you bundled up and met Fred. It was freezing and even though you were wearing gloves and a thick coat and a scarf, you were certain you were only seconds away from turning into a nice ice sculpture. The freckled redhead waved as he caught sight of you. He was smiling and looked positively thrilled to be starting this plan with you. “Down to business,” Fred started as soon as you stood next to him. “First we need to find out if anyone likes him or if he’s anyone’s type. Then, we can start dropping hints and start finding ways to get them together. George will be happy and then at their wedding we can come forward and tell them all the hard work we did.” It sounded like a pretty solid plan but there wasn’t much to it. Usually Fred was more elaborate, almost too elaborate.

“So what are we supposed to do, just go around and ask people if they fancy George? He’s bound to hear and pick up on it.” You rubbed your shoulders and stepped closer to Fred for warmth. “Couldn’t we have talked about this somewhere inside? I think I’m gonna get frostbite if I’m out here for much longer.”

“No, you’re going to ask people if they fancy George. He’s less likely to suspect you if you ask. He might even think you like him.” Fred laughed and removed his scarf, wrapping it around your neck. “Do you fancy George? If you do then you can just date him and everything will be better.” He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in, poking your side.

“Absolutely not. George is a brother to me.” It was the truth. Fred was eyeing you like he thought you were lying but he didn’t say anything. You loved George but he was just never someone you saw in a romantic light. He was sweet and kind but he was a little more subdued. He was calm and reminded you of a fireplace. He was warm and comforting and made you feel safe and at home. You preferred someone louder and more outgoing. Someone that was more of a bonfire, big and full of energy and unpredictable. Someone more like Fred.

“Fine, fine, if you say so. Maybe while you’re asking around you can talk George up too. Make him sound appealing.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, tucking you into his side. “Just not too appealing. If they think you like him, no one will go for it.” If Fred wasn’t providing an incredible amount of warmth, you’d have shoved him away.

“What exactly will you be doing then? Sitting around and looking pretty?”

Fred barked out a laugh and it warmed you from within. “While I am pretty fantastic at doing that, I’m gonna start working on George and get him to a more presentable emotional state.”

“You know,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his middle, hiding your hands under his coat, “we can just let him work through his emotions at his own pace and help him in a way he wants us to.”

Fred nodded and sighed. “I know and it would probably be the better idea but I hate seeing him so sad. I just want him to be happy.” Your heart fluttered at his words. Fred was loud and always smiled but he had real emotions under his happy exterior. He wasn’t like George who could be read like a book. Fred was a secret diary kept under lock and key. It was nice to hear him openly show his love for his brother.

“We can start as soon as I let you go. I think I might have frozen myself to you.” Without a warning, Fred shifted and hooked one arm under your arms and the others behind your knees and lifted you up. With a squeal, you wrapped your arms around him and held on for dear life as he walked you back to the castle.

---

Over the next week, you tried to ask around about George but either no one liked him or no one was willing to admit they liked him. On more than one occasion, people mentioned Fred and you were surprised to feel the jealousy building in your chest. You were asking about George and they kept bringing up his twin. No wonder George felt like he was living in the shadows. That was the reason you were jealous.

Fred apparently had more luck as George was beginning to act more like himself as the days went on. He was smiling more and making jokes and it made everything worth it.

On Friday, almost a week after Fred approached you with his plan, you were walking to class after lunch. Fred caught up to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side of the hallway. “Y/N, I wanted to ask how things have been.”

“Not great. No one likes him or they just aren’t telling me. I’ve tried asking anyone I think might like him and nothing. I’m sure someone likes him but I haven’t found them.” It broke your heart a little to think that no one out there found George handsome or wanted to date him. He was a total catch and he deserved someone good.

“Maybe we need a new approach.” Fred rubbed the back of his head and looked around the hallway. “What about we focus on people that are George’s type and see how they feel. Then we can narrow it down a little bit more. We can start with Angelina.”

“Angelina? From the Quidditch team? Why are we starting with her?”

“She’s smart, funny, athletic, and attractive. She’s perfect.” There was that jealousy again, burning in your chest. He really felt all those things for her?

“No way. She has very clearly expressed to me that she doesn't like you. Besides, she has a thing with some Ravenclaw boy. She doesn’t want you.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. What was so great about Angelina anyway? There were plenty of other people that were all that and more.

“This is about George, not me.” Fred smirked and grabbed your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not. I just mixed you two up. Just give me a list of people to ask and I’ll find out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.” Jerking your head away from his grasp, you spun around. You didn’t even make it a step away from Fred when some first year came barreling at you, slamming into your side. You stumbled and closed your eyes, preparing for impact when strong arms grabbed you by the waist.

“Watch where you’re going you little gremlin!” Fred yelled after the first year. He steadied you on your feet, his hands resting on your hips as he looked you over for any bumps or bruises. Your eyes landed first on his arms. Has he always been this fit? Your eyes traveled up his arms until they landed on his face. His brown eyes were full of concern as they continued to trail over your body. Freckles decorated his whole face, most of them concentrated around his nose. He had one that was perfectly in the center of the tip of his nose and you found yourself wanting to kiss it. That’s a new feeling. So was catching yourself staring at his lips and finding yourself licking your own. God you would give anything to kiss him, just to see what it was like. As you looked back at his eyes, you jumped a little seeing how intently he was looking into yours. “Are you ok?” His mouth was moving and you were sure he was talking to you but he sounded like he was underwater or across the castle grounds.

The bell signaling the end of the passing period restarted your senses. You scrambled to adjust your bag and nodded. “I’m fine but I really gotta go. Get me that list later.” Without a goodbye, you ran off to class. Your heart was pounding in your chest and it wasn’t because of your run. That was all thanks to Fred. Your friendship with Fred has always been a close one and while this wasn’t the first time he’s saved you from your doom, this one felt weird. Maybe it was because you had been talking about relationships so much or maybe it was because you were 16 and had hormones. Either way, you didn’t like it one bit.

That night at dinner, Fred handed you a sheet of paper after George had left the Great Hall. There were ten names listed and you had talked to almost everyone listed. “These are all the people I know George has found attractive or would be his type. Do any of them look promising?” He sat next to you and you were disappointed that he left an appropriate amount of space between the two of you.

“Not really. I haven’t asked that sixth year Slytherin but I’m pretty sure they aren’t interested. Wait, why do you have Hermione on this list?” She was two years younger than the three of you and she was one of Ron’s best friends, even if he never said that.

“She’s pretty cute and she’s smart. I thought George would go for it. You don’t think so?” Ugh, he called another person attractive. He needed to shut up and keep his opinions to himself.

“Of course not. She’s too young. We graduate next year and then if they did date he would be heartbroken to leave her.” You rolled your eyes and continued scanning the list. “Minerva McGonagall? Fred, are you serious?”

He only shrugged and looked up at the head table where Professor McGonagall was eating dinner. “Maybe he’d like how stern she is.”

“I’m going to kill you. This list is useless. I think we should just give up and let him work through things at his own pace.” You tore up the paper; if anyone saw it they would be extremely confused and probably give it to McGonagall since Fred was dumb enough to really add her to the list.

“No, I have one more plan and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll leave it alone and let George take care of it.” Fred blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked almost embarrassed at the thought of his other plan.

“What exactly is this other plan?”

---

The next day Fred stood in the hallway wearing his brother’s sweater. The ‘G’ on his chest clearly must have been his grand plan. “This is it? You’re just going to pretend to be George?”

Fred smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “I’m also going to flirt with people and try and see how they feel.” Everything was starting to feel more and more stupid as this went on. At this point, you wanted to just stop Fred and tell him to give it up but before you could, he was off talking to a group of sixth years.

You stood back and watched, your heart growing heavy as he laid on the charm. Fred was always a flirt and he knew how to make someone’s knees weak. It never bothered you until now. It was always common to see Fred flirting at least a little. It wasn’t always on purpose as sometimes he was just nice and it came off as flirty but he never cared.

“Hey, how are you guys?” Fred smiled and leaned against the wall. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you all. I would never forget such beautiful faces.”

A Hufflepuff girl giggled and blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. A Ravenclaw boy looked like he was trying not to fall for it but the small smile on his face said it all. “We’re alright. I’m going to take a wild guess that the ‘G’ on your sweater means you’re George?” The Hufflepuff asked.

“That would be me. You’ve heard of me?”

“It’s hard not to hear about you or your brother.” The Ravenclaw shrugged and looked at a Ravenclaw girl that had been standing a little behind him. “What can we do for you George?”

Fred smirked and shrugged, moving closer. “I just saw all of you standing here and I felt myself drawn in.” The Hufflepuff giggled again and seeing how she seemed the most interested, Fred threw his arm around her shoulders. “What are a bunch of pretty people like yourselves doing on this fine day?”

The Hufflepuff, you think her name might have been Christine, glanced over at Fred. “Nothing really. I have a question, is this your real hair?” She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair.

That was a knife right to the heart. Tears started to well up in your eyes and your stomach dropped to your feet. You knew he was just pretending and all he wanted to do was help George but it was all too much. You turned around and sprinted down the hallway. Fred saw you out of the corner of his eye and called after you, ignoring the group to chase you.

You could hear him calling your name and begging you to stop but you couldn’t. How could you face him like this? Here you were breaking down all because he was flirting with some random kids. This was all so stupid. He was your best friend and that was it. He was your funny, stupid, handsome best friend that always got himself into trouble. He was loud and obnoxious and never knew when to quit but he was also so caring and protective and wonderful. He kept you safe and made you smile and made your heart flutter every time he smiled. His laugh warmed you from the inside and the sparkle in his eyes made your brain turn to mush. He was everything you ever wanted.

You were still running with no clue where you were headed when Fred finally caught up and grabbed your arm, effectively stopping your escape. Fred spoke up as soon as his breathing returned to normal. “Y/N, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You ran off crying and you’re trying to tell me nothing is wrong? Do you think I’m stupid? Tell me what’s wrong.” He took his hand off you and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nothing happened Fred so just stop asking.” You turned away from him and rubbed your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop flowing. This was all so stupid.

Fred grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you to face him. “Please, tell me. I’m your best friend. What’s wrong?”

Best friend. He was your best friend and that was the problem. He made your stomach twist up in knots and your hands sweaty and your heart race and he was your best friend. It wasn’t like you could even lie to yourself and say you just had a thing for gingers; you never felt this way around George or Ron or any other Weasley, just Fred. You were in love with your best friend. This could ruin everything. Your breathing sped up and your hands started to shake. You had to get out of here.

“I’m done helping you Fred. I can’t do this anymore.” You slowly stepped back and tried to ignore your heart breaking as you looked at his face. Fred was frowning and he looked absolutely devastated by your words. He reached out for you and with great effort, you shook your head and took another step back. “Just, leave me alone.” With that, you ran away.

---

It was absolute torture to avoid Fred and George but you managed to do so for a couple days. George had done nothing wrong but you couldn’t risk anything. He could be helping Fred or he could be Fred. It was truly horrible to watch Fred try and get close to you. He would slip you notes in class and you threw them away immediately. He tried to catch you in the halls but you would push your way through crowds and lose him. He even tried to sit next to you at meals but everytime he did, you left. This was the best thing you could do. Now that you admitted your feelings toward Fred to yourself, there was no way things could go back to normal. You couldn’t pretend there were no feelings and while you couldn’t stand being away from him, this was the only thing preserving even a small part of your friendship. It was destroying a fair part of it but maybe this way you could still remain acquaintances and see the family. Losing Fred was horrible enough but the thought of losing the whole Weasley family, you couldn’t stand it.

After lunch on Sunday, you headed off to the owlery to send a letter home. You weren’t telling anyone about what was happening but you needed to inform your parents that you likely would not be spending the next break at the Burrow. Halfway there, a hand lunged out from behind a tree and grabbed you, pulling you over. Another hand covered your mouth. What was happening? Thinking fast, you bit the hand covering your mouth.

“Ow! Holy shit! What the hell Y/N?” You spun to see Fred waving his hand around, a bright red mark on his palm where you bit him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You just tried to abduct me!” You smacked him in the chest and glared but it soon faded as you began laughing. Fred lightly pushed your shoulder and joined in the laughter. God it felt so nice to laugh with him again. After a moment, the laughter faded and your face was serious once more. “What do you want, Fred?”

He swallowed thickly and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. He chewed on his bottom lip, debating what to say. He was nervous. Fred always bit his lip when he was nervous. “I wanted to talk to you. It's been a couple days of you ignoring me. What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why are you taking it out on me?”

“Because it’s your fault.”

Fred’s mouth dropped open. “So I did nothing wrong but this is my fault? What kind of bullshit is that?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not bullshit, ok? It’s just the truth.” You tried to take a step back, hoping to get out of this situation but you bumped into the tree.

He threw his hands in the air. “Then tell me what I did!”

“God Fred, don't you get it? I love you! I think I’ve been in love with you since I was 13 and it’s killing me because I just noticed it! I thought it was perfectly normal to think about how handsome your best friend is or how much you want to kiss them! I am madly in love with you and I was trying to save our friendship by putting some distance between us because I can't go on like this. I can’t look at you and want to kiss you and just pretend that I don’t. I can’t watch you flirt with other people and pretend like my heart isn’t being shattered every time. I can’t do it Fred. I can’t let my feelings for you ruin my friendship with you or George or Ron or Ginny or anyone else. I would rather have you not at all than watch you fall in love with someone else! I’m sorry I’ve ruined everything but I—”

Fred surged forward and grabbed your face in his hands as he slammed his lips to yours. You stood in complete shock before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips moved against yours and you moved closer, pressing your body to his. Fred slid his hands to your hips and pushed you against the tree. You both parted for air but he didn’t go far; he kept his forehead pressed to yours. “You talk way too much.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t dare move. “You don’t hate me?”

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I was 12. Of course I don’t hate you.” Fred smiled and ran his thumb over your cheek. “What made you realize you like me?”

You blushed and groaned. “This is going to inflate your ego so much but when you were flirting with that Hufflepuff pretending to be George.” Fred only laughed and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“You know, I must say I’m a little disappointed we never got George a girlfriend but I’m pretty happy with this outcome.”

“Just happy?”

“Would ecstatic be a better word?” Fred mumbled, leaning back in for another kiss.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered as your lips met again.

[chvoswxtch]

And second idea:

Matt having a bad lawyer day and a bad Mr. Devil Sir night, the coming home to reader and needing to just let go and use reader’s body for release (with reader’s consent of course) BUT THEN he goes just a lil too far and reader has to use their safe word and Matt immediately snaps out of it then feels TERRIBLE and gets all self deprecation-y and reader comforts him 🫢😳🥹

hi nonnie! ❤️ ok first of all I must be an idiot because I could not find your first request and I don't know what I did, but if you want to re-submit it please do! thank you so much for this request, it was a bit of a challenge not gonna lie, but I really hope I did it justice and this is at least close to what you were looking for!

warning: this req does include explicit sexual content, so minors please dni. I also want to give a warning that while this is purely consensual, it does include the use of reader's safe word. if that makes you uncomfortable or isn't for you, please feel free to skip this one. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise. I want this to be a safe space where everyone feels welcome & respected. while this is a little darker in content, it does have a fluffy ending with our favorite sad duck. ✨ word count: 3.1k

a really bad day.

It had been a day. God, had it been a fucking day. 

It started with Matt falling back asleep after smacking his hand over his alarm so forcefully that he must have broken it, because the alarms he had preset in fifteen minute increments never followed. Your side of the bed had gone cold, and silence filled the apartment, indicating you had already left for work. Matt knew he shouldn’t be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault he overslept. He had stumbled in only a few hours earlier, and since you were always worrying that he didn’t sleep enough and could probably tell how exhausted he was, had probably decided he could use the extra few minutes. Still, he was angry.

His bad mood didn’t improve as he stomped around the bedroom, pulling his clothes on a little too aggressively that he nearly ripped some of the buttons off his shirt and tore his tie in half. The incessant voice alerting him that Foggy was calling had him seconds away from hurling his phone into the brick. He grit his teeth as he bent over to hastily tie his shoes, his entire body crying out in agony from the aftermath of last night. As badly as he wanted to stay home, he knew Foggy would chew him out for it granted the importance of the case they were working on. Matt slammed the door shut behind him so hard it sounded like thunder had erupted in the small hallway, much to his neighbors displeasure. 

The day only got worse from there. The streets of Hell’s Kitchen seemed to be a little bit more crowded than usual, or maybe Matt was just more impatient today as he darted across the busy sidewalks a little too well for someone using the aid of a cane. It was unbearably hot today, and he had already begun to sweat before he made it to the end of his street. He felt like he was trapped in a sauna underneath his clothing and prayed to God the air conditioning in the office hadn’t gone out again. All the noises and smells around him seemed to be far more intense than usual, and the overstimulation was causing a migraine to start to throb between his ears. Great.

Matt Murdock must have truly pissed off the powers that be somehow because the second he walked through the door, he was greeted with bad news from Foggy. A new piece of evidence had been found in the case they were working on that completely ripped apart their entire defense. All that hard work they had done, all those late nights burning the midnight oil the past few weeks, and their entire fucking defensive argument had been torn to shreds by a tiny piece of evidence that had been overlooked by the NYPD. It took every single ounce of self control for Matt to not snap and start taking his frustrations out on every outdated inanimate object in that office. 

He had gotten home before you, and decided to skip dinner and head straight to Fogwell’s before going out on patrol. Hit after hit he threw at the worn down bag did nothing to dull his fury. Matt yelled in frustration, throwing his bag clear across the gym in a fit of rage. He knew he couldn’t keep pounding away at that bag if he was going to have any strength left for the assholes that dared to get in the path of the Devil tonight. He was more aggressive than usual as he took man after man down throughout the night. He punched and kicked until he tasted the familiar metallic tang in the air, and was only satisfied by the sound of something breaking that wasn’t meant to break. He twisted limbs in angles they weren’t meant to be in, and had knocked five men out at least in unconsciousness. But it wasn’t enough. That blaze that had been roaring inside him since he woke up was still burning red hot.

Matt could tell from three blocks away that you were still awake. He could hear the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and your breathing, not slow enough for you to be asleep, or even close to it. Sometimes you waited up for him, just to make sure he was okay, or because you missed him. Sometimes he loved that. He loved coming home in the early hours of the night when everything was quiet and still, finding you still awake on the couch reading a book and waiting for him, telling him you couldn’t fall asleep without him tonight. He loved laying his head on your chest, feeling you draping a blanket over the two of you, and listening to your voice as you both caught up about your days. He loved the feeling of your fingers threading gently through his hair, and letting the symphony of your heartbeat ease the weight of all the violence he had encountered that night into nothingness. Sometimes he needed that. Sometimes he loved it.

But tonight all it did was piss him off. Tonight he hated it, because he felt guilty. He felt guilty that you were awake at this hour, waiting for him to come home. He felt guilty because he knew you had to be awake in a few short hours for work. He was even angrier because he knew you wouldn’t go to sleep until he let you examine him for injuries, insisting on doctoring even the most miniscule of scrapes and bruises. He hated it because he had told you countless times you didn’t have to wait up for him, and you wouldn’t fucking listen.

“Why are you still awake?”

It came out more as an accusatory statement than a question. You didn’t deserve the venom in his words. He knew that. He had never used such a harsh tone with you before, and he could tell it caught you off guard by the slight uptick in your heartbeat. That should’ve been the first alarm in his head, but he couldn’t hear it.

“I…I was waiting for you. I didn’t get to see you today. You weren’t home when I got here…and you weren’t answering your phone. I just…wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Normally, that would’ve melted Matt’s heart, and he would’ve apologized for making you worry. He would’ve been able to notice the uncertainty and nervousness lacing your voice, taking a moment to calm himself before greeting you properly. But today was not a normal day, and Matt wasn’t himself. Today those words were like gasoline antagonizing a wildfire. 

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that? I can take care of myself, I don’t need you to worry, and I sure as hell don’t need your pity.”

“Matt, I-”

Matt had ripped the mask off his head and sent it flying across the living room, smacking against the brick with a heavy thud. He wrapped his hand tightly around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to stop your flow of words as he dragged you up off the couch and roughly guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Shut up. Since you’re awake, why don’t you make yourself fucking useful?”

Matt spun you around so quickly it made you dizzy, pushing you onto your knees on the bed before him with a force that nearly winded you. He ripped your panites completely off your hips like they were made of wet paper and a sharp gasp left your mouth. It wasn’t that he had never done that before, but tonight it felt different. He was different. Matt didn’t recognize the words that fell from his lips. They didn’t sound like him. He would never speak to you that way. But it was like he had blacked out and someone else had taken over his body. The other guy. As soon as he was out of his suit, he spit on his palm and rubbed it over his cock a few times to get himself hard. Pushing your head down into the mattress carelessly, he leaned down slightly to spit on the entrance of your pussy before lining himself up.

“Don’t you fucking move.”

He didn’t wait before shoving his entire length forcefully inside your tight walls, or wait for you to adjust before starting at an unforgiving pace. He didn’t recognize that the whimper that sounded from your throat was one of pain, not pleasure. He was too far gone in his own head to pay attention to anything else but how badly he needed a release. He had been trying all goddamn night to get this anger out, lashing out aggressively at anyone that got in his way, but it wasn’t fucking working and this was his last resort.

You always helped him through his pent up animosity when he came home still reeling with adrenaline and frustration. You always told him you didn’t mind when he let the Devil loose with you, and that you even enjoyed playing with him sometimes. You always told him you wanted to help, however you could, to give him what he needed. So, Matt didn’t think anything of it when he came home like this. You had assured him several times before you wanted it too. That you didn’t mind him like this, and that sometimes you needed him like this. All that he needed right now was you. If he could just make it to heaven tonight, he could leave hell behind.

Matt wasn’t paying attention to you. He had your wrists locked behind your back in a tight hold, his other hand gripped so tightly on your hip you knew there would be bruises from his fingertips. His hips were snapping relentlessly into yours and he was pistoning in and out of you so hard it was difficult for you to not collapse. His head was so clouded with blind rage that he couldn’t hear your pleas and cries of his name, or that they sounded different. Matt’s growls and grunts were animalistic as they tore through his chest, his grip getting immensely tighter and his hips moving impossibly faster as he got close. It was right there…he was almost there…just a little bit-

“Red!”

Something inside of Matt snapped when he heard you scream out your safe word, and he immediately froze. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he tilted his head down towards your body beneath him, like he was waking up from some kind of fever dream and trying to remember where he was. He instantly let go of you when he heard your shuddering breaths, and tasted the saline that escaped down your cheek. Matt’s eyes widened in horror as everything suddenly started to clear up in his selfish brain. You had been trying to get him to stop. Your pleas and cries from earlier seemed to just now hit his ears.

“Matt…please slow down…”

“Matty please…it’s too much…”

“God…can we please just…just stop for a second? Please Matty…it hurts…”

It hurts.

Matt scrambled backwards away from the bed, his back colliding with the door as he realized what he had done. How far he had taken it. How far he had pushed you. He suddenly felt nauseous, those two words clamoring around in his head.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

“Oh God, Y/N…I…I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to-”

You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, carefully sitting up on your aching knees and glancing over your shoulder to look at Matt. Your heart broke at the contrite expression of pure terror on his face. You knew he hadn’t meant to hurt you, or push you like that. You could tell from the way he shut off his alarm that morning, and the way he had come home to you, that something was off with him. You had texted and called a few times today to check on him, but had never gotten ahold of him. After calling both Foggy and Karen when you got home and Matt wasn’t there, you started to worry. Both of them confirmed his sour mood and questionable outbursts throughout the day, which gnawed at the pit of your stomach.

Whatever was going on with him, you could tell it had pushed him to his breaking point, and you had unfortunately been caught in the storm. As you got off the bed and began to walk closer towards him, calling out his name softly, Matt squeezed his eyes shut and tugged at the roots of his hair in frustration.

“Fuck, Y/N…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart…I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to, I swear-”

“Hey, I know, Matty. I know. It’s okay-”

“No! No it isn’t okay. Nothing about what just happened is okay.”

Matt’s voice broke towards the end of his sentence, and it sent a pang throughout your chest. There were tears of shame forming in his eyes, and you could see the guilt swimming around in them. It devastated you to see him like this. 

“Matty, I’m okay.”

“No you’re not, Y/N. I hurt you. I hurt you because I’m fucking-”

You quickly pressed a finger to Matt’s lips, knowing you only had a matter of minutes to get his incessant guilt under control before it really had a chance to sink in. You gently grabbed onto the back of his neck, bringing him down to press your foreheads together, and guided his hand up to settle on your chest over your heart.

“Matty, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening? I want you to listen to my heartbeat, feel it. I am okay, I promise. You are okay. We are okay. Yes, it did hurt, but only because I wasn’t ready. That’s all. You know I don’t mind when you’re a little rough, you know that. But you know you have to prep me first, make sure I’m ready too. You forgot to do that tonight, and that’s okay. You haven’t been feeling like yourself today, have you? You’ve been a little lost up there, huh?”

You kept your voice soft and barely above a whisper, gently brushing your thumb along Matt’s temple, replacing your touch with a kiss as you heard him exhale deeply and felt him slowly nod his head.

“That’s okay, baby. We all get lost sometimes. We reach our limit, and we lose our heads. You had a really bad day today, yeah?”

Matt was afraid to speak. He didn’t want to fuck up any worse than he already had. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your gentle touch and unwavering kindness. He didn’t deserve your omnipotent understanding or your pure unfiltered love. He didn’t deserve you.

You knew exactly what was going through his head, you could practically hear the scathing words. You knew Matt Murdock like the back of your hand. You knew he was simmering with self-deprecation and remorse, and would never forgive himself for tonight even though you already had. You gently cradled his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over the tops of his cheekbones.

“Matty, baby, you had a bad day today. A really bad day. But that’s okay, you know why? It’s almost over. And tomorrow is a brand new one. A fresh start. Why don’t we take a nice shower, hm? Just wash it all away, and start clean tomorrow. C’mon, bub. Come with me.”

Matt hesitantly let you lead him into the bathroom, holding onto your hand for as long as you would let him. Even though he could tell you meant every word you said from your unfaltering heartbeat, he wasn’t convinced that he was worthy of your forgiveness. Of your love. Of you.

As steam billowed above like gentle clouds, you carefully ushered Matt into the shower and lightly pushed him backwards until he stood under the flow of the water. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his entire body visibly relaxing under the scalding stream. You moved forward to wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest, stroking your fingertips lovingly up and down his back. Matt’s arms came around your back slowly and cautiously, holding you delicately to his chest like you would vanish into the steam if he wasn’t careful. He had been wound up so tightly for the past 24 hours, and focusing now only on the feeling of your touch, he felt the tension finally begin to detox from his body, and he wanted to cry in relief. 

The lighter he felt, the tighter he held onto you. You sang to him softly, swaying steadily from side to side underneath the warm water together. You smiled when you felt him bury his face into your neck, bringing one of your hands up to run your fingers through his wet hair tenderly as he melted into your embrace. You pressed several soft kisses to his neck and shoulder, never once loosening your hold on him. You could feel him starting to come back to you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I know, bub. I know. You wanna talk about it?”

“I just…everything was going wrong today. Everything was too loud, smelled too strong, felt too hot and uncomfortable. I couldn’t stop feeling anything but angry. I couldn’t snap out of it, no matter what I did.”

“You were overwhelmed Matty. You should’ve called me and came home. I would’ve come home and taken care of you, you know that baby.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I…I couldn’t think straight today. Couldn’t hardly focus. I just…wasn’t thinking. Just…feeling, everything. All at once.”

You hugged him a little tighter after his defeated confession, feeling your heart ache for him all over again. You had seen Matt struggle with sensory overload plenty of times, and irritation was usually the emotion that took over when that happened and he would get a little snappy, but you had never seen him like you had tonight. You realized how intense everything must have been for him to get to that point, and it sent fresh cracks through your heart.

“It’s okay, Matty. You’re home now, and everything is alright. I’ve got you. Why don’t you take tomorrow off, hm? I’ll stay home with you. We can spend the whole day, just me and you.”

Matt hummed quietly in response, nuzzling his face further into your neck to inhale your comforting scent. You both stood wrapped up together under the water until it started to run a little cold. 

“Foggy’s right, you know.”

“Hm?”

“He calls you ‘The Matt Whisperer’.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, smiling as you heard the faintest of chuckles muffled against your skin. You squeezed his large frame in a tight hug, reaching behind him to shut off the water.

“Daredevil and the Matt Whisperer, what a dynamic duo we make. Think I can get a sexy little outfit like yours?”

[breakfastteatime]

Today's request is 'You've got one minute' for @ralndown ^_^

Every time Cal thinks he’s settling into a routine on Bracca, something awful happens. Maybe the Ibis Maw gets hungry for flesh and grabs a tentacleful of unsuspecting scrappers. Maybe a ship that’s been in the same place for two years suddenly decides to collapse under its own weight. Maybe someone breaks something aboard an old terraforming lab and suddenly there’s a bunch of people turned into trees.

Today, Cal’s crew makes it halfway through their shift before the worst, most terrifying siren goes off. Bracca doesn’t have a lot of warnings for incoming disaster, but this one? This is the one they’re all trained to react to in one way, and one way only.

Get out. Get out now or die.

Maybe that’s why the Force left Cal feeling nauseous all day. It’s so useful like that.

Dropping the wires he’d started stripping, Cal follows the others. Prauf’s leading them and he’s already on the comms, listening intently to whatever’s being said. When he stops still and holds up a hand to make everyone else do the same, Cal shivers under the weight of the collective fear around him.

It only gets worse when Prauf starts issuing orders in a sharp tone of voice Cal’s never heard before.

“It’s a chemical leak. A bad one. We’re too deep in the ship to get out in time. Get into your emergency teams, find a room, and seal yourselves in. If we’re lucky, we’ll see each other on the other side of this thing.”

People break off into their groups. There’s no time for goodbyes or good lucks. Cal sticks close to Prauf and Tabbers. He takes a breath and immediately coughs it out, a sharp bite scraping the back of his throat. Prauf grabs him, throws him into a room, and Tabbers seals the door.

It’s not enough. The room, a tiny refresher, has an air conditioning vent high on the ceiling. Even Prauf can’t reach it to close it off. Gas seeps in. Cal hears people coughing and choking from all around, senses their fear and pain.

“We gotta seal it, now!” Tabbers shouts. His eyes stream, coughing hard. “We’ve got one minute before we’re all spitting out chunks of our lungs.” He pulls a wall panel down. “Weld this over that vent!”

“Lift me up,” Cal says. He puts his filter mask on, hoping it will help. “I can do it.”

Putting his own mask on, Prauf grabs Cal, lifting him. Cal plants his feet on Prauf’s shoulders. His eyes burn, so full of tears he can hardly keep them open. Tabbers hands him a sheet of metal and Cal presses it to the vent, welding torch in hand as he covers it up. He can’t keep his eyes open, so he trusts Prauf to guide him, molten metal sealing the panel in place.

“Good job,” Prauf says, lowing Cal down. “Sit, both of you. That gas is light, so we should be safer down here.”

Cal’s feet touch the ground. He drops to the deck moments later, eyes squeezed shut, lungs still rebelling. His mask isn’t doing much to help, but it’s better than nothing.

“Is this shit what I think it is?” Tabbers’ voice is muffled by his mask.

“Yeah,” Prauf replies. Cal hears him sit beside him. “Someone messed up big time.”

“I’d threaten to beat the idiots myself, but I cannae imagine they’re alive now,” Tabbers says.

“What is it?” Cal asks when he can talk again.

“A chemical weapon designed to rot battle droids,” Prauf says.

“Aye, not that it worked,” Tabbers adds. “It’s far better at killing us organics.”

Cal never heard about anything like that. Not that he tells the others. The idea that the Republic would create something like that leaves him nauseous.

“Looks like no one thought to remove the canisters before we started pulling this thing apart,” Prauf says. “Foreman said someone cut off the wrong thing and boom – we’re all breathing in poison.”

Cal doesn’t join the conversation. He pulls his knees to his chest, keeps his eyes firmly closed, and tries not to suffocate in the feelings of so many people dying around him. He pushes the Force away, begs it to leave him alone like it usually does.

“Cal?”

Prauf’s big, warm hand lands on his back. Cal startles, eyes flying open. His vision is fractured by the tears still running, but the burn is easier to manage now.

“You okay?” Prauf asks.

“Yeah,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to worry about how rough his voice sounds. And then, because he needs a distraction, he keeps talking. “Can’t believe we’re stuck in a ‘fresher.”

Tabbers chuckles. “Get comfy, brat. We might be here a while.”

It’s two days before the foreman gives them the all-clear. The survivors are given a half-shift break to clean up, get something to eat and drink, and then sent back to work to make up for the two days of sitting around doing nothing. Cal notes that their crew is down several people when they meet up to be assigned duties, but no one says anything.

Back to the Bracca routine.

[nashscribblings]

Christmas Space Heater

I swear to god, I have an actual Christmas story this morning.

It's like the Christmas Shoes except it doesn't involve god showing someone the true meaning of Christmas by giving a kid's mom cancer.

Are we seated comfortably?

So as some of you have been following along, Sarah and I are taking care of some stray kitties that showed up on our doorstep. One, then two, then three, then three and a half (he's an orange one and the other three don't seem to like him much). Friendly cats, but strays.

We can't bring them inside with us because we already have two indoor cats, and these are definitely outdoor cats: ear tipped, chipped by the shelter, all of that. Community cats, they're called. So we've been feeding them and being friendly with them, making sure they're okay.

But this week we have these temperatures that are harsh for the season where we are. It's 18F/-7C right now, which isn't bad for lots of you but we're not used to it here in Charleston. It's been down to 10F/-12C with the wind chill at night.

So they need shelter.

We have a screened in porch that we've covered in plastic for the winter, so we decided we'd just bring in the outdoor cats for the worst of it. I set them up with food, water, litter, some cheap heat-reflective beds I got ($11 each, nice deal) and a space heater.

The space heater is a problem, though. It just isn't powerful enough. Plus there's some gaps and drafts I need to deal with using some weatherstripping and such. So I ventured out this Christmas Eve morning to get a (sigh) much more pricey unit. Was looking at $100 USD or more.

We're doing okay, but I've got taxes coming up, groceries are more expensive, I have doctor's bills (and another ultrasound soon, yay) so we're watching out money the best we can overall. But on the other hand, can't just let the cats freeze. They need their comfy room.

Went off to Wally-world and it's Dec 24th so nobody wants to be there, not the shoppers, not the employees, nobody. And it's also 7am so everyone's tired and miserable. Made my way over to the space heaters and as I was looking them over this nice older lady came down the aisle.

Now, two things: one, I do not like talking to strangers. Ever. I feel awkward and weird and I generally don't like people. Two: I'm not a space heater expert unless you count computers that use way too much electricity, and that did not apply.

But she seemed like a nice lady.

So I tried to go over what I know, infrared is fast but not efficient, ceramic is safer but not as powerful, oil radiators are efficient and good but really slow to get going, etc. Must have spent ten minutes or so asking her how big her room is, what she needed it for, etc.

We're really not built for the cold in Charleston, in most cases quite literally. Almost every house has some form of air conditioning but usually heating a place isn't a priority. Last Christmas it was something like 60F/15C. So lots of us aren't well versed in heating.

After a bit she turned around and asked me what I was getting, and I explained to her about the cats and looking after them and then she asked for pictures and she was all "awwww" and then she was talking about her kitties.

Her name is Anna and she had two (and of course she has pictures), but her senior kitty Misty passed just before Thanksgiving so we talked about that a little. Finally she decided on an oil radiator (we have those for inside and I told her they worked well for long periods).

So I figured she was about to get on her way and I was about to get back to getting mine, but then she says "And I'm getting whichever one you're getting."

"Well, you don't really need two of them."

"No, young man, I'm getting yours for you."

(And I gotta say, getting called "young man" was a Christmas present all by itself.)

I tried to talk her out of it of course, because that's just weird and we could handle it but she wouldn't hear of it. Like, she was really insistent because it was for the cats. I did manage to keep her from buying the weatherstripping stuff for me, at least.

But yeah, she got us a pretty beefy little ceramic heater that'll hopefully shore up the porch for the rest of this cold snap (which is looking like the better part of a week).

As we were checking out I was sure to tell her that Sarah works at the animal shelter and if she was looking for another cat to come by on the weekend and ask for her and all that. She said she would.

And then it was "Merry Christmas" and we were on our way.

Not a real big twist or surprise here at the end, sorry. But yeah, that happened. It's not a huge deal but it helps us some. So happy holidays and all that. Hope you enjoyed that.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Welcome to the Outpost: Part 1.1 - Frozen

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Clone Commander Mayday, Clone Trooper Hexx, Clone Trooper Veetch, Additional Clone Troopers Word Count: ~1570 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Mayday’s squad of 12 have been on Barton IV for months. When the power in the outpost fails the troopers have to huddle together for warmth – but they can’t forgo perimeter patrols as the power outage also means the sensors have failed.

“I’ve run every diagnostic I can, Commander. The fault is with an external component. And I can’t replace it until this blizzard dies down.”

Ferox’s breath puffed cloudy in the air of the generator room. Mayday frowned, glancing about the equipment.

“There’s no way to bring the backup generator online?”

“It won’t make a difference. It’s the feed from the generators to the rest of the base that’s the problem. I can repair it, but not in these conditions.”

Mayday nodded reluctantly. The storm had howled in from the mountain pass just before sundown, plunging the outpost into early night; a darkness only enhanced when the lights failed as the power cut out.

“Back to the main depot,” he ordered, pulling his helmet on before heading into the swirling snowstorm outside.

*

Mayday folded his arms and surveyed his squad, clustered tightly round the portable heat generator. “With the perimeter sensors down, we need to manually patrol the depot.”

“It’s not the first time they’ve failed,” muttered Dene. A rumble of discontent greeted his observation.

“I’ll send a request for replacement parts as soon as the power’s back on and we have access to long-range coms again,” promised Mayday. “In the meantime, pair up. I want patrols offset to cover as much of the perimeter at once as we can.”

“Raiders would have to be crazy to be out in a storm like this,” said Veetch with a laugh that rang just a little hollow.

“We’d have to be crazy to be out in a storm like this,” said Telmer disdainfully. “Our gear isn’t designed for cold-weather operations.”

“Insulate it as best you can,” supplied Hexx, stepping to Mayday’s side. “The commander has given you your orders.”

Mayday nodded grimly. “It’s vital we guard this cargo, boys. We all know that. Can’t let an equipment malfunction stop us from doing our jobs properly, can we?”

His voice lifted at the end, just a hint of sarcasm. Identical grins spread across identical clone faces. They all knew the Commander’s thoughts about the dead-end assignment guarding this depot until the cargo was retrieved. Six months on Barton IV had bonded the squad closely, but hadn’t generated any further enthusiasm for the task itself.

The squad broke apart with their usual banter, falling easily into their roles. Geo and Dene took the first patrol. The others dragged bedding from the bunks to the heat generator, their best chance of staying warm without heating in the base.

Hexx clapped a hand to Mayday’s shoulder. “Veetch is right. Raiders’d be mad to be out in this. It’s going to be an uneventful night.”

Mayday huffed a dry chuckle. “I hope you’re right.”

*

“Move over.”

“Geez! You’re freezing.”

“Yeah, it’s snowing out there in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, that one had passed me by.”

The grumbling continued as the huddled clone troopers shifted to allow the returning pair into the centre of the pile. From the outer edge two of the troopers peeled away to go and kit up, taking their turn on patrol.

Hexx hissed in displeasure as an ice-cold body pressed against him, dragging him from the edge of sleep.

“Kriff, Veetch! You’re stealing my body heat,” he complained, even as he wrapped his arms round the younger clone to warm him up.

Veetch grinned in the dark through chattering teeth. “I’ll return the favour after your patrol,” he promised as he shivered and tried to make himself comfortable.

Hexx pulled Veetch close to his chest, and on the other side Helix moved closer to try and warm their brother too. Elsewhere in the pile the same was happening to Telmer, Veetch’s partner from patrol.

“Where are Geo and Dene?” rumbled Mayday’s voice, cutting through the shuffling of bodies with his precise question.

“Haven’t seen them, Commander,” said Telmer with a stiff yawn. “They were ahead of us. Assumed they’d be back already.”

Mayday sat up, shadowy in the barely-lit room, running a hand through his hair and beard. “I don’t like this.” Then he was extracting himself from the pile, going to join the two troopers preparing for patrol. “Axis, Atlas, I’m coming with you.”

The two helmeted troopers glanced at each other, then back at the sleep-bedraggled Commander. “They’ve not radioed in for assistance,” said Axis dubiously.

“Yeah,” agreed Atlas. “They probably just went off track in the dark. They’ll be back soon enough when they realise their mistake.”

Mayday was already clipping on armour plates, and their arguments went unheeded.

“The blizzard might be interfering with coms,” said Mayday darkly. “We’ll keep radioing once we’re out there, try and raise them.”

“Yes, Commander,” chorused the two clones.

In the centre of the sleep-pile, Hexx tried to rub warmth back into Veetch’s trembling limbs.

*

Mayday walked the patrol with Axis and Atlas. When they got back, and Geo and Dene still hadn’t returned, he woke the next two patrols. Mayday went out again with Krake and Recon. Helix and Ferox set off in the opposite direction.

Hexx was woken for his patrol. He had been scheduled to go with Mayday anyway.

“You should sleep,” he said quietly as he kitted up. “I’ll take one of the others.”

Mayday shook his head. “I’m worried. I wouldn’t sleep even if I didn’t go out.”

“Then you should stay in and get warm.”

The helmet hid his commander’s expression. His silence was answer enough.

Hexx sighed. “Alright. Let’s get moving.”

*

Hexx had been with Mayday a long time. Almost since the start of the Clone Wars.

He’d been with him since they were both just troopers – brothers in arms. Watched him rise through the ranks, and followed him loyally the entire time. They had lost other brothers along the way. That was part of life for a clone trooper. But somehow, he had always managed to stick close to Mayday.

He’d been at Mayday’s side when The Order came in, and the Commander had gunned down their Jedi General in cold blood.

After that, they had been assigned to the Barton IV outpost. The new squad was made up of clone troopers like them; the last of their units, dregs of squads slain and fractured during the upheaval as the Republic was re-ordered into the new Galactic Empire.

Axis and Atlas were batchmates, together since birth as far as anyone could tell. Geo, Krake and Dene had served together before, as had Ferox and Recon. Telmer and Helix were both the last survivors of their previous squads, but they fitted in well enough.

Veetch was the youngest, barely out of Kamino before the Clone Wars had ended and he had found himself shunted here, to the far end of nowhere. He put up with the teasing good naturedly. Being everyone’s vod’ika came with its perks – the others all looked out for him.

He reminded a lot of them of brothers they had lost.

It looked like it was Veetch’s turn to find out what losing a brother was like. Mayday hadn’t said as much, but Hexx knew a lot of what Mayday didn’t say.

The storm was easing now, midnight’s snow-blindness passing as the flakes fell less thickly. It would still be a couple of hours before dawn painted the sky beyond the mountains steel-grey; for now his and Mayday’s torches flashed over the fresh snowfall, and every few minutes Mayday tried the com again.

“Geo. Dene. Come in. Report.”

“Patrol unit, status check.”

“Dene. Geo. Answer me. Come in.”

Hexx trudged a few steps ahead of Mayday, cutting a channel into the deep snow for him. He hadn’t commented when Mayday took them beyond the perimeter sensors for their patrol; just took the lead and did what was needed to support the Commander.

“Geo, Dene, report.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” Hexx asked.

Mayday’s answer was slow and rough. “What?”

“When we find them,” said Hexx quietly. “The ground is too solid for a burial. We don’t have fuel for cremation.”

They trudged on in silence. Mayday didn’t reply.

Nor did he try to com the missing patrol.

*

It was mid-morning before Ferox got the power back online. The sensor beacons pulsed back to life, red lights lazily circling.

The heating in the depot didn’t come back on.

Recon was the one who found Geo and Dene. Telmer and Krake helped him dig them out of the snow. Helix brought a cargo pallet to carry them to the depot.

Hexx stood at the entrance to the main building as the subdued troopers approached. Mayday was at his side, head tilted up, watching the dark forms of the ice-vultures circle against the overcast sky.

“Least we found them before the scavengers did,” Hexx said softly.

Mayday’s expression was hidden by his helmet as he turned his attention to where the troopers were reverently carrying their fallen brothers.

“I shouldn’t have ordered the patrols.”

“Orders are to protect the depot and its cargo. Perimeter sensors were down. You did what you thought was best.”

Mayday’s tired sigh sounded over their com channel. “Why do I feel like the Empire isn’t going to be as understanding as you are, Hexx?”

Hexx shrugged. “We patrolled when the sensors went down before. It was just unfortunate it happened during a blizzard this time.” He hesitated. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Mayday clasped Hexx’s shoulder briefly, then headed down the steps to join his troopers.

Read Part 1.2 - Rise From The Ashes

Welcome to Angstpril!

This writing project is a collaboration between myself, @the-little-moment and @kybercrystals94 to bring you a fabulous series of angst-based Bad Batch fanfiction. We've shared the prompts between us so don't forget to check all of our blogs to catch the whole month's worth of stories!

My series of 10 stories will all focus on Clone Commander Mayday and the Barton IV Outpost. Stay tuned to follow Mayday's journey to the bitter end...

Gonna level with you guys, I've not been well so whilst I have every intention of contributing to this event I cannot 100% guarantee updates on the day they're due... but I'll do my best :')

[abysscronica]

Feel free to answer 1, 2 or all three \o/

11. Post something from a current wip or concept 12. The funniest comment someone has left on a fic of yours? 13. Inspiration for Captive? I know it's been complete for a while now, but I'm just curious what kicked it off. (Captive played an inspirational role in my first Eustass Kid fic, so I'm curious <3 )

Thank you Quin and sorry for the late reply! Since the answer to no.11 is quite long, I'll reply to the others in another post (here).

From this ask game. (I have some other asks for it, will get to them later)

11. Post something from a current wip or concept

This is from a One Piece fantasy AU that I'm probably never going to work on fully, so it's a good chance to share it. It's just a draft and it's a OP x reader story, even if it doesn't look like it.

Koby held his breath in the humid darkness of the inn. Or what was left of it, anyway.

The stench of death impregnated the air, stale, heavy. It was hard to make out the details of the dining hall in the moonless night, although the young commander was partially grateful for that. He could see the outlines of the corpses, maimed, men and women alike, but not their horrified faces. He could see limbs, feel the mush of their organs under his boots. The wooden beams of the floor were probably covered in dry blood.

_______________________________________________________

He could hear the buzzing of the mosquitos, always preceding them at the crime scene.

His blond companion, beside him, pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, desperately trying not to puke.

“How many?”

“Eleven, that we know of,” Helmeppo grunted, his voice sounding more like a whimper.

No wonder, Koby thought, with his heightened half-elf senses, the blonde was surely worse off than him.

“Bring the torches down, get the men to collect samples and sketch out the crime scene.”

“What for? The murderer is already in our custody,” Helmeppo said from behind the cloth.

 Koby frowned at the floor. A delicate hand lay at his feet, a feminine one, severed below the wrist by jagged teeth.

“It’s the third case in two moons. We need to reopen the investigation,”

“Fine. Ugh, I need to get out of here,”

 Helmeppo rushed up the few stairs that led outside. The faint light of the stars cast clearer shadows in the inn for a moment, allowing Koby a better view of the massacre.

He looked, trying to imprint to his memory as many details as possible. Not that he could ever forget. Then he turned and followed the comrade outside.

It was a relief when the fresh air of the night greeted him, even there in the Rats Heap, where the air always carried a lingering smell of human and animal ejections.

“Commander Koby.”

 Out of the three soldiers composing his inner squad, only Hibari saluted him as he stepped in the small clearing among the buildings. Koby nodded to her and looked at Grus.

The tall man was leaning against the tumbleweed wagon, arms crossed on his broad chest, serious eyes glued to him.

“Is the prisoner secured?”

“Yeah.” Grus banged the wagon with his fist “Chained up like a damn sausage. Not that it matters, given his state,”

“His conditions are pretty bad,” Hibari confirmed “He’s burning up, even for a half-titan. We tried talking to him, but he doesn’t seem present at all,”

“We should just kill him,” Helmeppo shrugged.

 Koby shook his head.

“What? No. We need to find out what happened.”

“With all due respect, Koby, this looks just like another case of half-titans going mad,” Grus sighed “They do that, you know.”

“It’s been too many cases in such a short time. Also, they usually don’t just fall sick and die immediately after, and yet this is the only one we managed to capture alive so far,”

“So? Maybe it’s something with the stars, the seasons, the year. These guys have demon blood in their veins, who knows what’s up with them,” Grus said.

“Even so, I’m worried,” Hibari admitted “These cases will strain the situation with the half-titans in the city… they don’t do well when they feel threatened. We risk an escalation.”

“And so close to the First Blood Tournament! I hate this job,” Helmeppo groaned.

“We need to find out what’s going on,” Koby concluded “Helmeppo, call the other squads and have them analyze the scene, like I asked you. Grus, bring the prisoner to the headquarter and give him to the healers.”

 Grus blinked.

“The headquarter? I thought we were sending him to Impel Down. They have a lot of titans working there. If anyone knows how to make him talk, it’s them.”

“We’ll keep it as last resource.”

 The soldier shrugged, then mounted on the wagon and spurred the horses down the street.

Koby took a deep breath and glanced back at the inn.

“We need to keep the capital safe.”

Three days had passed since the massacre. No progress had been made in the half-titan case, and the rest of the population was growing listless. Two teenage half-titans had been killed in the Rat’s Heap, the poorest district of Sabaody. The militia presence was very scarce there, and daily disorders were the norm, but not at this rate. They were receiving frequent reports of aggressive half-titans from other districts too.

The only information they gathered on the murderer was his name, Gin, and that he was a hunter in the marshes at the Southeast rim of the capital. Like most titans, he was on a watchlist, but his past before arriving at Sabaody was a mystery.

“NEWWS! GET THE NEWWS OF TODAY!”

 Koby walked through the crowded streets of the Sunlight Market, staying large of the people swarming around the news boys.

“PRINCESS UTA’S EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY IS ONLY TWO WEEKS AWAY, AND THE FIRST BLOOD TOURNAMENT WITH IT!”

 Like he needed someone to remind him that.

Humans and half-elves were throwing coins at the boys, papers were being handed over in all directions.

“THE CITY IS GOING TO WELCOME GUESTS FROM ALL OVER THE CONTINENT! ALABASTA! KANO! LITTLE GARDEN! TOTTOLAND! MAYBE EVEN WANO! AND WHAT ABOUT ONIGASHIMA?!”

 Some loud gasps rose from the crowd. Koby winched lightly.

“HOW MANY CHAMPIONS WILL THE OTHER RULERS SEND?? FIND THE UPDATED LIST IN THE LATEST ISSUE!”

 They knew how to sell their paper, Koby would give them that. Those boys were certainly trained by the Lord of Whispers, Morgans himself.

 The commander took a hard turn and put some distance between him and the busiest square of the market.

He had ditched the silver cape of the ground Militia for a casual outfit, a linen scarf wrapped around his chin not to be recognized. He walked for the best part of an hour to a small park by the river. There were very few people around, mostly homeless men hanging in the shadow of the trees. One of them, a blind one, was throwing crumbles at the ducks by the bank.

 Koby opted for a bench right behind him and sat.

“Has the mist dissipated yet?” he asked.

“The fog is all I see.”

 The homeless was wrapped in a ragged cloak, but his frame was still impressive. He didn’t turn nor greeted the visitor.

“I hope you know how great of a risk it is to meet you,” he said, offering some seeds to the closest duck.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I need to know if you have any information on the mad titans’ cases. We are grasping at straws here, and we are expecting the first delegations to arrive in less than a week.”

“I’m working to make sure we don’t get spies from Kaido or Big Mom in the city amid this new influx. Public security is your job.”

“I’m sorry, Sir Diez, but you are the only one that can get me real intel from the streets.”

“Don’t use my name.”

“Sorry. But it’s true. I need… to talk to someone. Someone that can help.”

 The other paused for a moment.

“I heard you apprehended the last titan alive.”

“Barely, yes. He’s in our custody now but he’s mostly unconscious, and when he does wake up he’s hardly more than a vegetable. They’re feeding him through nectar and blood injections, but I’m afraid he’ll die soon.”

“So what are you asking me? I know nothing of this titan madness. Unless you came to me because I’m a half-titan myself?”

“Absolutely not!” Koby yelped, pressing a hand to his mouth immediately after “S-Sorry, I mean, no. What I want is… I’m looking for someone that can get the information out of the prisoner before it’s too late.

…

“You want someone who practices witchcraft.”

 Koby hesitated.

“Yes.”

 Diez remained silent for a while. Of course they both knew that witchcraft was forbidden in the capital, but they also knew that the lower belly of society harbored many sorcerers.

“I could give you some names,” Diez said, rubbing his chin “But there’s no guarantee that you’ll get what you want. These people are criminals, they can be deceiving.”

“Well, at least it would be a start.”

“No.” Diez threw the rest of the feed in the water, and the ducks around him stormed in the river “It’s not a witch that you seek. What you need is a Mind Whisperer.”

 Koby’s eyes widened.

“Wait… we have someone like that in the capital? They’re so rare, I thought they could only be found at the Tree of Knowledge, in Ohara. I put in a request days ago but by the time the crow comes back, the prisoner will be dead.”

“There are illegal Mind Whisperers of course, albeit not many. Usually they are swindlers, or hold very scarce power.”

“So…?”

“I caught wind of someone. Not here – in Water Seven. I’ve only heard of them once, so I don’t know how accurate the intel is. But they say this one is the real deal.”

 Koby’s heart pounded. The free city of Water Seven was just a half-day away by horse from Sabaody.

“Where can I find them?”

“I only know they work as a healer in the Cherry Blossom clinic.”

“Cherry Blossom clinic. Got it.”

 Koby rose and bowed imperceptibly.

“Thank you, sir.”

 As he moved to leave, Diez called him back.

“I don’t know much about this person’s background, but I do know they are discreet and have high profile clients. People that can tamper with others’ minds are dangerous. Be on your guard, boy.”

 Koby looked at the half-titan’s back, then nodded.

“I will.”

[reader is of course the Mind Whisperer]

[halfbakedspuds]

OC interview

Thanks to @illarian-rambling for the tag!

Rules: write your OC's response to the questions

I have Hans von Nirgends on my mind so I'll do it for him.

Are you named after someone?

At birth, I was named after my paternal grandmother... no, I will not tell you what that name was, allesficker. When I fled to Neureich, they asked under what name I wished to be registered, and I... panicked a bit, choosing 'Hans Schmidt' (which I'll admit is possibly the most stereotypically Tuitish name ever). Then I joined the Neureich Friedensrichter corps and got assigned to a little frontier town in the Mittelostia territory called 'Nirgends'- which I may have grown a little too attached to since I had my surname changed to 'von Nirgends' after a year and a half of living there.

When was the last time you cried?

Probably after the last Hellstorm I survived. Not necessarily because anything bad happened, they just leave behind a kind of eldritch beauty that you can't help but shed tears at the sight of. The last time I cried out of heartbreak... I decline to comment, that memory remains buried for a reason.

Do you have kids?

That's not really on the table for me due to several reasons- let's just lie to ourselves, say that Hellstorms are sterilising and leave it at that, alright?- and as much as I'd like to maybe adopt kids someday, I'm also far too afraid that I'll turn out like my father. No child deserves that.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What do you think, detective? In all honesty, it annoyed my father, so it became a rebellious habit of mine.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

The way they walk. That can usually tell me whether or not they have a gun concealed that's getting in the way of their movements, but all in all it's just a lesson learnt from experience.

What's your eye colour?

Bluish-grey. Although under... certain conditions, they take on the colour of a dark storm.

Scary movies or Happy endings?

I don't know, maybe my life has just been filled with enough real fear and horror, but scary movies don't really do anything for me. I'm a sucker for a happy ending, though. Probably because I'm still looking for mine.

Any special talents?

What, why do you... oh wait, that's what you mean. I guess I'm a decent-ish marksman. How many people do you know who can take a rifle and put a hole in a coin from a hundred and fifty measures out from horseback?

Where were you born?

Listen here, and listen close. If you tell anyone this, I will find you. Verstehen? Good.

I was born in the Wasserfall family manor in the Grenzenwald barony of Tuitis, near the Tuitis-Lenroux border. Happy? Good, let's move on.

Do you have any pets?

I had a dog named Rufus while I was still a Friedensrichter. Damn good partner, closest I ever had to a friend before I met Anselm and Mariette. Anyways, one day we were on a job, stopping a gang who'd commandeered a cash transit train. Rufus ran in, bit their leader in the soft, and got shot for it.

My orders were to take that gang alive. Well, it's not exactly my fault if some outlaw scum managed to vanish into thin air as if they'd been vaporised. It's also not my fault that I may have done the reasonable thing and... assisted in the emancipation of their molecular bonds.

What sort of sports do you play

In Nirgends they have this sport that the children play where you need to try to get a ball into the other team's goalpost. When I was off duty, I'd sometimes play it with them, though it says something that I as a twenty-four year old man repeatedly got thrashed by a bunch of young teenagers... Bozhe, now I miss home.

How tall are you?

One measure, twenty five marks. In your system that's about 167cm or about 5'5".

What was your favourite subject in school

My father wasn't too keen on the idea of me receiving an education, however there was a guy in town who our family commissioned machinery and other things from who taught me how to read, write, and maintain machinery whenever I snuck out to visit him. My favourite lessons were the ones where he only told me the design specs and left me to figure things out myself. I guess I just enjoyed the challenge and he knew it.

What is your dream job

A musician, maybe. Although if I'm being honest I'm getting tired of a life where something exciting is constantly happening to me. Perhaps I'd like to hang up my rifle and put my talents as a mechanic to use here in Ost-Rietland... yes, that actually sounds quite lovely.

Blank template under the cut

Are you named after someone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have any kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What is the first thing you notice about people?

What is your eye colour?

Scary movies or Happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

Do you have any pets?

What sort of sports do you play?

How tall are you?

What was your favourite subject in school?

What is your dream job?

[cryoculus]

— reparations 01 ⟢

a man walks into a bar— no, smashes his bike into your shop: what do you do?

★ FEATURING; arataki itto x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.3k words

★ TAGS; modern au, flower shop au, slow burn, idiots to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, no smut, sfw

★ NOTABLE CHARACTERS; arataki itto, kuki shinobu, thoma, kaedehara kazuha

★ WARNINGS; motorcycle accidents, blood imagery, hospital visits, but nothing too gory or violent

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

“Thank you for your patronage!”

The elderly woman, who’s also your first customer for the day, grins as she receives the bouquet from your grasp. “No, thank you, dear. Your arrangements are always so lovely.”

You managed a soft laugh, the ping of the cash register resounding in the air. “You flatter me too much, Amane-san! I’m just like any other florist out there.”

“Any other florist wouldn’t dare put up shop in this part of town, though,” she chuckles, gentle fingers caressing a patch of baby’s breath rather fondly. “Though you make it much easier to bring flowers to my husband, aren’t you afraid? You know who runs this district, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” you say, tearing off the receipt printed out by the register before handing it to her. “They’re the ones who own this complex after all.”

Amane nods, smile not faltering. “Then you’ll be just fine. Most folks from the city are quick to judge little Arataki’s gang. Bunch of troublemakers, they said, but what they don’t know is that they’re the ones who keep Hanamizaka the way it is… Oh, never mind me! This is just an old lady’s rambling.”

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “I don’t think the, uh, Arataki Gang’s all that bad. At least their secretary isn’t. Oh, here she comes now.”

The chimes on the front door tinkle softly at the entrance of a new customer that you receive with a kind smile. Kuki Shinobu is not your everyday right-hand woman to Hanamizaka’s band of thugs. For someone managing a rather…unorthodox organization, she seems a bit more put-together than you would otherwise assume gangsters should be. When Shinobu walks into your flower shop, she looks like any other straight-laced college student you’ve come across in the city—looking around as if she didn’t drop by every morning.

“Oh, Shi-chan!” Amane gushes. “I didn’t know you were looking after our newcomer here. The boys didn’t cause any trouble, I hope?”

Shinobu sighs. “The last tenant packed his bags and left because they scared away all his customers. I explicitly told them not to bother the next one that tenders a lease with us.” Turning to you, she spares a small smile. “Speaking of which, good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Shinobu,” you chirp. “Is it gonna be the usual for today?”

“Yeah. Oh, wait, no. Do you have anything more fragrant? Specifically something that calms the nerves?” she asks, reaching into her backpack to hand you an ornate vase that seems more expensive than it looks. “Our boss has been feeling off-kilter for the past two days, and his mood swings aren’t doing anyone favors.”

“How about you fix her up with some silk flowers, dear?” Amane suggests, gesturing to the bouquet in her hands. “My husband adored them, and we always ordered some seeds from the old flower shop in the city back in the day. I’m sure little Arataki will snap out of it once he gets a whiff of them in that cramped office of his.”

“Does that work for you?” you ask Shinobu, and she nods. “Alright, give me…fifteen minutes to prep, and we’ll be all set!”

This is how your mornings usually turn out.

For a quick backstory: after living in the capital of Inazuma City for the past twenty-four years, you decided to move out of your old childhood home and live independently. It was a decision that neither of your parents were happy to agree with at first, but you managed to meet the conditions they’d set once you graduated from college. Those being: 1.) Have a stable source of income; and 2.) Don’t move too far away. 

It took you a couple of months to survey whether a flower shop would flourish in the neighboring district of Hanamizaka. But once you’ve confirmed that the business opportunity was too good to pass up—the elderly living in this area seriously had a green thumb or two—you decided to hunt for a good apartment and commercial space as soon as you could. That’s how you ended up meeting Shinobu, the secretary (or was it deputy?) of the so-called Arataki Gang. Apart from their supposed claim over this district, they also owned a two-floor building that they rented out for extra revenue. 

You’ve only heard about the gang in passing during your college days, when one of your friends accidentally waltzed into their territory once. They took his presence as a threat, apparently, and the boss was quick to issue a challenge in the streets of Hanamizaka. Needless to say, the tall tale only made you more curious with the things that go on outside the city. Now here you are, about three weeks into your new lease in a place legally owned by the Arataki Gang. 

But…despite all the stories told by Amane and some of your other customers, you haven’t seen any members lingering around. It’s mostly just Shinobu that gives your shop the time of day, and if you did happen to spot anyone that resembles a gangster, they were quick to scat. As if they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

And with all the countless complaints you’ve heard about the boss from Shinobu (“Little Arataki”, as Amane liked to address him), you’re yet to meet the man in the flesh.

It’s not like you want to be introduced to someone who can potentially be a yakuza, but… 

“Meow.”

As you clean up the leftover stems on your work table, your tabby, Mikan, hops onto the counter behind you, tail swishing with imminent curiosity. You toss the plastic bag containing the disposed remains of Shinobu’s most recent purchase into the bin, clapping the residue off your hands. When you reach out to scratch under her ears, Mikan purrs out a delightful little sound.

“It’s about time we ate some brunch, yeah?”

The next morning, you open up shop like usual. Checking up on plants that need supplementing, calling in for another order of clay pots (your stock is rapidly depleting), and entertaining orders from customers that step inside the store. The clear glass of the display windows makes it fairly easy to spot anyone that might harbor an interest in all things botanical, so you always manage to greet everyone with a sunny disposition. 

Well, almost everyone.

“So when do you plan on telling her again?” Your eye twitches as you put together a very extravagant sweet flower bouquet. “We’ve been friends since freshman year, and you’ve liked her since freshman year. That was, what? Six years ago? And you still haven’t told her?”

Thoma pouts at you. “Hey, you talk like admitting your feelings for someone is a walk in the park.”

“It’s not, but keeping quiet for six years is so uncool, Thoma!”

“Not like I’m trying to be cool,” he mumbles. “Oh, do you have any of those cherry blossom designs, by the way? Do you think they’ll look nice with the bouquet?” 

You shoot him one last condescending look before rummaging through the cabinets near the windows. Each level contains different flower-arranging paraphernalia. From scented wrapping paper to customized wicker baskets—everything you need to fashion one creative bouquet to another is readily available; artificial embellishments like the one Thoma wants included.

… if they’re in stock, that is.

“Hate to break it to you, but I forgot someone placed an order that used up all my cherry blossom stems last week,” you sigh. “I think I can get my hands on some new stock later in the day, though. I’ll just have someone deliver it to your place or something… Unless you’re finally going to confess to Ayaka for real. I can definitely improvise if that’s the case.”

Thoma laughs, but the sound is a bit dry. “It’s just a little congratulations for securing a partnership with Watatsumi University. You know how serious she is about her job, right?”

Kamisato Ayaka is, indeed, the overachiever in your old college friend group. After graduation, she was offered a distinguished position in the Faculty of International Relations & Culture—something everyone agreed she deserved and more. You haven’t been able to keep in touch with Ayaka since you moved out of your parents’ house, but Thoma is thankfully here to update you about their goings-on.

“Fine, fine. Just have it delivered,” Thoma tells you, pulling out his wallet only to inevitably frown at it. You heave another sigh. “Uh, put it on my tab for next time?”

“This is a flower shop, not a bar, asshole,” you mumble, and when you return back to the counter, Mikan chooses that exact same moment to pop her head out—mewling in delight when she sees Thoma. 

“Oh, Mikan, if only your owner is as kind to me as you are,” he fake-sobs, carrying your cat in his arms as she snuggles into his grasp. Damn traitor. “I promise I’ll pay you once I get this week’s payroll. But I’ll be taking my leave now because you know that being here gives me the jitters.”

Right. The friend that got challenged into a duel by the Arataki Gang? That was Thoma.

Once he steps out of the shop, you sink into your little swiveling chair behind the counter—head tilted listlessly towards the ceiling. The greens growing on your plant hangers are looking a little dull, and you wonder if you should move the rack closer to the windows. But despite your attempt at distracting yourself, the exasperation from Thoma’s inability to be honest eventually catches up to you. Mikan hops onto your lap in the next second, as if sensing your distress, and you run a hand across her orange fur with a sigh. 

“When I get a boyfriend, I want him to be as straightforward as a man can get.”

“Mrow.”

“If he ever skirts around his true feelings, I’m never going to accept him.”

“Mrow.”

You let out a soft chuckle, lifting her by the waist as she flashes you a disgruntled look. But before she can let out any mewls in complaint, you pull her closer to your chest with a long breath.

“You’re the only one who gets me, Mikan. Even if you like Thoma more than me sometimes.”

“Meow.”

“...Did you just agree with me?”

“Mrow~”

Half an hour before closing time, your usual delivery boy arrives on the dot to receive the order. Kazuha greets you warmly when he walks into the shop, and of course, Mikan bounds into his arms just like she does with everyone but you, it seems. 

“Someone’s looking quite chipper today,” he comments before setting your tabby back onto the floor. “Where am I delivering your package again?”

You hand Kazuha the neatly wrapped bouquet—complete with Thoma’s requested specifications—and check the virtual map of the city from your phone at the same time. “Um, the apartment complex right next to Uyuu Restaurant. I texted you the exact floor and unit.” 

“Got it.” 

Forgetting that you’re supposed to pay him for his services, you hobble back to the counter to retrieve enough mora to cover the delivery costs. Kazuha thanks you kindly when you hand over the payment, and he drops the money into the cute little fanny pack he wears all the time. 

“The app is going to let you know once the delivery is complete as usual,” he tells you, already halfway out of the shop. “Thank you again for trusting our services.”

“I wouldn’t dream of switching couriers at all,” you chuckle. 

Kazuha humors you with a soft laugh, but just when you thought he’s going to end the exchange right there—

“Oh, you best be careful, by the way.”

Your brow quirks. “Pardon?”

He sighs, casting a worried look your way. “I heard that the tensions have been a bit high between the Arataki Gang and another organization I’m not familiar with. It seems that the dispute has been stirring things up not just in Hanamizaka, but the capital as well.”

It takes you a moment to fully absorb Kazuha’s words, but when you do, your curiosity only festers. Is that why Shinobu’s boss has been on edge lately? Because of the dispute? 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” you reassure him with a smile—picking Mikan off the floor as you set her down on the counter. “I live on the second floor anyways, so there’s no reason to go out unless I need to get some groceries. Or visit my parents.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to be more cautious, right?” Kazuha laughs. “Well, see you soon.”

Closing time isn’t as really as lonely as you thought it would be. Despite Mikan’s indecipherable habits, she often helps clean up because the faster you can take care of things in the shop, the faster she can eat dinner. You don’t blame her for the strange source of motivation, though. If anything, you’re feeling a bit famished yourself, too.

“Hmm… I wonder what I should cook for dinner,” you wonder aloud, resting your chin on top of your broom. “Tonkatsu sounds really neat right now, but it’s kind of a pain to make the batter and everything. Ugh…” 

Eventually, you continue sweeping the floor just to get your hands moving. You make sure to check your phone every now and again for some texts from your parents, as well. They did like asking if you’ve already eaten dinner at this hour. But ten minutes into your final clean-up, you notice that Mikan has gone stock-still on the counter—green eyes wide and staring out like she saw a mouse scuttling across the windowsill. You make a puzzled face before glancing over your shoulder, but the only thing that greets your sight is the early evening traffic of Hanamizaka.

“Anything the matter?” you ask, but Mikan doesn’t even mewl in response. Your usually hyperactive tabby is just transfixed on the bustling nightlife in a way you haven’t seen before. But you read somewhere that animals often have bouts of odd silence every now and again, so you decide to brush it off.

Just when you're climbing up the stairwell that leads to your actual apartment, Mikan doesn't follow you even if you’re about to switch off the lights. She remains seated on the counter, tail swaying rhythmically like she’s waiting for something to happen.

“Mikan, come on.” You cross your arms. “Don’t you want dinner?” 

What is up with this cat today?

However, the next second, an ear-splitting roar shatters the silence of the evening—cleaving through you like an axe through sturdy bark. The sound rattles you enough that you nearly fall off the stairwell, but when you spot a speck of blinding light in the distance, speeding closer and closer in a way that seems like they have no intention of stopping—

“Mikan!” 

You know very well that cats have the most graceful reflexes out there; that Mikan can jump out of the way of imminent danger the moment it strikes. But she’s been by your side for a good few years now, so you guess it’s natural for you to develop a strange maternal instinct, of sorts. 

Without putting another thought into it, you sprint off the stairwell and leap in front of the counter. An unknown vehicle smashes through the windows a split second later—sending shrapnels of glass flying everywhere. The screech of an engine makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you squeeze your eyes shut, shielding Mikan as you turn your back towards the commotion. In the back of your mind, it clicks to you that whatever dickhead ran their ride into your shop, they probably ended up destroying the Sumerian dracaenas you put up on display. But you’ll give them an earful for that later. 

You only realize your heart is threatening to break out of your ribcage once Mikan starts mewling in your arms—pawing at your shirt. A shuddering sigh flees your lips as you hug her closer to your chest. 

“Thank gods you’re alright,” you murmur, patting down her fur. 

But the next thing you take notice of is the feel of the warm, evening breeze drifting into the shop. When you turn around to survey the situation, you take note of several things at once: the gaping hole in your shop, the passers-by stopping to take a look, the huge, extensively modified motorcycle lying on its side next to a ruined shelf, and—

“Shit.” You immediately let Mikan hop out of your arms as you shakily stand up—mortified at the crimson liquid pooling beneath the head of an unfamiliar man. Under the fluorescent lighting of your shop, you can safely assume that this is definitely blood.

For a moment, you panic—unsure of the protocol for when a reckless driver crashes his bike into your shop. You can’t exactly yell at him for doing that, since he was obviously out cold. So, the next thing you try to take into account is the state of his motorcycle.

It’s one of those variants with lowered seats and longer handles. The kind that you imagine the local thugs use to show off in groups. And just beneath the single, jewel-encrusted headlight is a golden sigil that slightly resembles a…dragon? A demon? You’re not entirely sure, but you’ve watched enough action movies with Thoma back in the day to know that you should switch off the engine to avoid further casualties. 

As you step over the large man lying unconscious on the floor of your shop, you twist the key in the ignition slot, taking it out with a bated breath. You notice that it’s attached to a crocheted plush of a tanuki, and that makes you stare at the man in disbelief. 

This time, you’re able to get a better look at him.

It occurs to you a bit too late that the huge motorcycle is just appropriate for a guy that’s both ridiculously tall and has the broadest shoulder-span you’ve ever seen. His shaggy, ivory hair is sprawled all over the place, and some of it’s getting dyed in the bright red of his own blood. Grotesque details aside, he’s wearing nothing but a purple patterned haori— giving you an eyeful of the strange red tattoos inked into his impressive chest. But you have enough decency not to ogle someone who’s passed out, so once you pocketed his keys, you crouch down to lightly pat his face.

“Sir?” you call out. “Are you conscious? I’m going to call an ambulance, okay?”

That seems to make him stir. 

He opens his eyes—squinting at the bright lights of the shop. From the way his blood red irises keep drifting in and out of focus, you assume that he definitely has a concussion. But before you can even get up to look for your phone, the reckless driver tugs you back down by the wrist. You cry out in surprise but you’re reflexive enough to plant your palms on the ground before you fall into the man’s chest. 

Your breath hitches when you find yourself staring deep into the red of his eyes, and you can’t even flinch away when he raises a large, calloused hand to cup the side of your face.

“You’re so pretty.”

And that's the last thing he says before slumping back to the floor. 

You don’t really remember the last time you stepped inside Inazuma General Hospital, but each one only left a bitter taste in your mouth. Today’s visit to the emergency room is no different.

You fidget with your phone—chewing the inside of your cheek as you try not to let the scent of disinfectant get to your nerves. There aren’t a lot of people inside the waiting lounge with you, and you aren’t really in the mood to strike up conversation with anyone at the moment. So it’s just you and the messy haywire of thoughts currently fogging up your brain. You can’t even bring yourself to give Kazuha’s usual 5-star rating once he completed your delivery earlier because you feel that antsy. 

To be fair, you’re not really bothered by the prospect of bringing an injured man to receive the medical care he direly needs. Even if he destroyed plants and display cases worth over a hundred thousand mora, you’re not so heartless that you’ll leave him to bleed to death in your shop out of spite. You even left Mikan and your shop in the care of your next-door neighbor out of the urgency to bring that guy to the hospital. 

But the thing that’s unnerving you the most right now is…the man’s identity.  

On the ambulance ride here, the paramedics managed to procure some ID from a wallet he kept in the trunk of the motorcycle. Lo and behold, you’re finally given a name to the careless prick who gave you a hassle and a half as a present for your first meeting. 

Arataki Itto.

You tried not to jump to conclusions at first (maybe this is a different Arataki). But the paramedics seemed familiar enough with the guy that when they loaded him inside the ambulance, you could tell that this might not be the first time they brought this specific person to the hospital under the same degree of injury. 

The sound of your name being called from the entrance snaps you out of your musing.

“It’s good that you brought him in as soon as you could,” says one of the doctors that oversaw Arataki’s first aid and treatment. “He seems to have suffered blunt head trauma, and I’m assuming it occurred before Arataki-san crashed into your shop. Is that right? The nurses get the stories mixed up sometimes.” 

Blunt head trauma? So he ran your shop over because he was already injured beforehand?

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “Um, is he going to be okay?”

He nods. “We’ve administered the medication he requires right now, and he should be out cold for the next few hours. I also had the folks from the front desk reach out to his emergency contact. You’ve done enough, so we’ll be taking Arataki-san’s situation out of your hands now.”

Unable to contain your own curiosity, you decide to ask, “...Does this happen often? You guys seem awfully relaxed about having to deal with a gangster.”

“Oh, once you’ve spent enough time tending to those boys, you’ll come to realize they aren’t as bad as people make them out to be,” the doctor laughs as he goes over the clipboard in his hands. You wonder if he’s talking about the rest of the Arataki Gang. “Arataki-san frequents this hospital a lot—not as a patient, but as a companion. When one of his gang members gets into a violent squabble, he patiently sits in this same waiting room until they’re all patched up.” 

The information makes your lips part in equal parts disbelief and admiration. You never would’ve imagined a big, hulking man like him showing an ounce of compassion for the men he’s in charge of. But when you recall how gently he caressed your face earlier—red eyes shining with honest sincerity as he says, You’re so pretty—

“Shinya-sensei,” a nurse calls out from the hall, effectively yanking you back to reality. “Kuki-san just arrived. She wishes to talk to the one who brought Arataki-san in.”

Oh, right. It would make sense for Shinobu to be Arataki’s emergency contact. When Doctor Shinya glances at you for your confirmation, you nod at him and follow the nurse out of the room.

You find Shinobu with a chair pulled up next to an unconscious Arataki’s bed in the emergency wards—staring resentfully into space until she catches wind of your arrival. Her eyes widen with disbelief as she gets back to her feet.

“It’s you,” Shinobu murmurs before groaning into her hands. “Why did it have to be you…?”  

You feel a prick of offense at that. “I’m sorry?”

She sighs, and you realize that Shinobu’s backpack is lying at the foot of her chair. Did she rush from school to the hospital immediately after hearing the news? 

“No, no. I’m grateful that you brought in our boss,” she explains, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just that… Gods, Master is going to kill us.”

“Master?” 

“It’s nothing!” Shinobu insists, and you startle a little because she’s always been a bit soft-spoken. Right now, she’s the epitome of a stressed college student that has more pressing problems outside of her bachelor’s degree. “Forgive me, my thoughts are just…all over the place. I was consulting some revisions for my thesis when I got the call and—ugh! Why does Itto have to go overboard every. Single. Time?!” 

You can see the nurse that came with you scuttling out of the scene when Shinobu starts to complain aloud, and you understand the sentiment. You aren’t sure what to make of the outburst she’s laying off on you at the moment, but you decide not to comment on it. Being a college senior and the deputy for a gang are two very different things. It’s amazing that Shinobu can even handle them both at the same time.

“Hey,” you call out, rubbing a hand on her shoulder. “If you need to sort out your stuff with that thesis of yours, I could always just watch over him for the night.”

Shinobu’s face falls. “What? But your shop got trashed by this guy, right? The nurse told me so.”

“Well, yeah, but Shinobu, you look like you’re about to short-circuit any second,” you point out. “I had my neighbor watch over the shop and my cat earlier, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Even though someone could rob the cash register and I might end up bankrupt.”

You punctuate the words with an uneasy laugh that makes you realize that you really did just leave your incredibly vulnerable shop in the hands of a neighbor that you haven’t known all that long. Shinobu is quick to pick up on your split-second epiphany though, and fishes out her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll have some of the boys watch over your place in the meantime,” she sighs, tapping away at the screen. “If someone tries to rob you, they’ll have to answer to the Arataki Gang— What’s so funny?” 

You hide your soft chuckles with the back of your hand. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re so quick to do a complete one-eighty degrees. Earlier you’re a lamenting college senior and now you’re back to deputy-of-the-Arataki-Gang mode.”

“It’s important to keep these aspects of my life separate from the other,” Shinobu sighs before bowing in front of you. This shocks you a little, because no one in modern day Inazuma still does that right? “I’m terribly sorry for the inconveniences our boss has caused, and for calling in a favor from you at such short notice. Rest assured, the Arataki Gang will make up for it however we can.”

“Uh…” you draw out dryly, unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. “It’s really not an inconvenience, Shinobu. I’ll be more worried about you if you end up missing deadlines because you had to look after your boss.”

Shinobu rises back to her full height, tears glistening in her eyes. Um…

“Thank you so much,” she nearly sobs, throwing her arms around you in a hug. “I promise I’ll rush back here first thing tomorrow and discuss the reparations with you and our idiot boss.”

You relax into her arms, patting her head affectionately. “Take your time. I won’t go anywhere.”

When Shinobu takes her tearful leave, you end up staring at your impromptu patient with a desolate sigh. True to Doctor Shinya’s words, Arataki is out cold—the only indication that he’s alive being the steady rise and fall of his broad chest. They managed to change him into a loose hospital gown, but you can still see the heavy outline of his tattoos under the thin fabric. 

You decide to take a seat in the same chair Shinobu was just having a midlife crisis in earlier, checking your back pocket for your wallet. Thankfully, it was still there, and you can at least afford to buy yourself some convenience store sandwiches and a coffee. Archons know you can’t exactly stomach a full meal after everything that transpired tonight. But you decide to linger for a while longer before heading out to grab something to eat.

The circumference of Arataki’s head is wrapped in a sterile white gauze that makes his hair look more cream-colored than ivory, and you notice that his arm is hooked up to an IV at the other side of his bed. Your forehead creases with how hard you’re thinking about what must’ve happened for him to end up in this state. If Kazuha’s earlier warnings had any real weight to them, you’re willing to wager that it has something to do with his gang’s current disputes. But Doctor Shinya also mentioned that Arataki rarely comes into the hospital as a patient, so why…?

Your phone buzzes in your lap, startling you out of your reverie.

Thoma [21:15]: Got the flowers! Heading over to Ayaka’s rn

You roll your eyes, the dread from your earlier musing immediately dissipating from a single text from Thoma.

Me [21:15]: Confess or ten years bad luck.

Thoma [21:16]:

Me [21:18]: I’m not even trying to make you reblog shit! Just confess!!!!!!!

Thoma [21:19]: Maybe next time 😌

“Ow, fuck.”

Once again, you jolt in surprise when another distraction greets your vision in the form of a very conscious Arataki trying to pull the needle out of his arm. Your eyes widen and you immediately shoot back to your feet, pinning his meaty arms to his sides with your hands. You try not to pay attrention to how the girth of his muscle dwarves your fingers. When the hell did he even wake up?!

“Hm?” Arataki stares at you, just as baffled. “As much as I like a lady that can hold me down, I gotta get outta here, nee-chan. Can’t you help me out or something?” 

“Shinobu asked me to watch over you for the night,” you tell him through gritted teeth—not liking how he’s not even struggling to shake off your grip. “So please don’t cause her any more trouble than you already have. Just stay here and let yourself recover like a good little gang boss.”

Arataki’s eyes widen slightly. “Whoa, I’m totally not discovering inappropriate things about myself in the most inappropriate times.”

“Just go back to sleep!” you groan. “If you rip out that IV, I’m calling the nurses.”

“Jeez, alright, alright,” he surrenders, even making a show of lying back down on his pillows. “Who are you anyway? The last time I had a lady fuss over me this much was when I…”

You don’t know why, but the fact that he just forgot who you are kind of stings a little. The realization makes you want to slap yourself. This is the man who ran his bike into your shop. He deserves no form of sulking on your end! Who cares if he forgot that he called you pretty in a post-concussion delirium?!

“Whatever,” you tell him, bringing your hands back to your sides with a huff. “I’m going to grab something to eat. You better not pull an escape act while I’m gone.”

“Nee-chan, the more you discourage me, the more I’m inclined to do it,” Arataki points out as he rests his chin on his free hand. You then notice that he painted his nails stark black. “But fine. Can you bring me some yakisoba bread when you come back though? Oh, and a Pocari, too? Hospital food tastes like ass.”

You gape at him. Is he serious? Is he really this shameless?

“Whatever!” you repeat more firmly before stepping out of the ward—not caring how many times Arataki calls out for you.

It wasn’t obvious at the time, but if you intended to lead a quiet, independent life, the last thing you should’ve done is to get involved with the Oni King of Hanamizaka. 

next →

★ UPDATE SCHED; every thurs & sat (12 nn gmt+8)

© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.

[mareenavee]

15, 16, and 19 for any characters you like! -sylvienerevarine

Hello, hello! Thank you for these!

Skyrim Asks for my fic The World on Our Shoulders!

Gonna answer these for Teldryn because WHY NOT. Let's go!

ask game is here.

I am going to include a writing fragment below because of course I am (: Under the cut for formatting kindness.

15. Do they consort with Daedra?

Why yes, yes he does. Not for the usual Dunmer cultural reasons, either -- he's the Nerevarine. (It's in the fic tags so it's not really a spoiler!) He is Azura's champion, meant to be the downfall of the Tribunal. And how he was. These days, sometimes she sends him odd dreams that are more or less out of context but hasn't truly spoken to him in some time as she had back in the 3rd era.

There have been other encounters with other Daedra. He's been annoyed by Hircine once or twice. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd crossed paths with Sanguine on one of his benders. He's almost positive he came dangerously close to making a bad deal with Vile. He's probably currently spun into some web or another with Mephala, because who isn't? There'd been nightmares, too. Plenty of those seemed influenced by Vaermina herself. Though there's no concrete proof of either of those. And Hermaeus Mora...hmm. He's met him once or twice, and that one likely isn't done with him -- or Nyenna for that matter.

A fragment from a future chapter 43 for you, then -- not final (:

“Hmm… come, bask in my presence,” the abyss said. Nyenna’s throat felt like it was closing and she did not move an inch.

“What are you?” she asked, voice strained with fear. “What do you want with us?”

“What am I, hmm? Not what, who. Who am I, hmm? I am Hermaeus Mora. I am the guardian of the unseen, and knower of the unknown. I have been watching you, mortal. Most impressive,” the thing said. “Your generosity has rendered my previous servant…hmm…useless. He has been…destroyed. I will require…hmm…another champion. When the time comes, you will take his place.”

Nyenna heard the rage of her dragon screaming inside her skull, even through her tears and her terror. She knew the tales of the Daedric Princes and the destruction they wrought over the ages. This thing had deceived even Septimus Signus, though he had previously admitted to being damaged by the Elder Scrolls. Perhaps he had not been in his right mind, and this beast took advantage, only making his condition worse. She was not weakened. She would not be used.

“I will have nothing to do with the likes of you,” she spat with disgust, though she was still crying. Teldryn’s breath caught as he looked with wide eyes between her and Hermaeus Mora.

There was a wet screaming sound, like the death throes of a mutilated, mutated creature as the squid-like eye of the Daedric Prince moved not inches from her face, anger visible somehow around it in its ink. She heard the sound of tentacles writhing and felt bile creep up her throat. Icy dread gripped her and she could barely breathe. She couldn’t look away as the eye bore down on her. In her peripheral vision, more eyes than she could count focused on her from all angles. She began to tremble. Teldryn held on to her more tightly.

“Who do you think put these events into motion, hmm? Who guided the addled one here? Whose information…hmm…brought you back safely to open this box and loose my knowledge on this…hmm…world? Not your Aedra, no. Not your…hmm…dragon-soul. Me,” the thing said. He let the declaration hang there in the air between them.

“I came here on my own to finish my quest,” Nyenna said, resolve faltering. Her voice felt small as she tried to speak, smaller than it had felt for some time now. “I… It has nothing to do with…with you.”

“Foolish girl. Your free will is an illusion,” the abyss spat, voice venomous. “Whether you acknowledge me or not is your own business. But I…hmm…I am in your mind. You cannot escape me. You never will.”

Nyenna’s rage had cooled as quickly as it had burned and she was sobbing again, reminded of the terror of her dream world. Of the inky darkness and the monsters held within. Was her nightmare given to her by this abomination? Had she walked his realm in her sleep? 

“He who has been…hmm…lost to you, girl, is…hmm…alive, by the way. Though by all accounts, the world would be…hmm…better off if this was not true,” Hermaeus Mora hissed. He let out a low, evil sounding laugh.

“Who is?” Nyenna asked, unthinking. Her heart seized in her chest. Lost to her, specifically? Her voice croaked as she said his name. “Eris?”

There was no way. She had watched him die. She had seen the light of his soul leave his eyes. She tried to close her eyes as they filled with tears but found she could not. The tears blurred her vision.

“You are mine, Dragonborn. And you will…hmm…seek me for this answer. I await the day you…hmm…give in,” the abyss said, the room once again filling with his low, slimy cackle. The eye slid its focus off of her for the barest of seconds, glancing at Teldryn, who had frozen in place next to her. The eye narrowed as the water-logged laugh quieted. When it returned its focus to Nyenna, the giant squid eye blinked just once more before the writhing, inky mass collapsed in on itself, leaving no trace behind.

16. Did they feel sympathy for any villains they came into contact with? If so, who and why?

Teldryn definitely holds a more survival focused approach to defeating enemies. In the moment, it's usually incredibly difficult to find the time for things like sympathy or mercy -- usually it comes down to a fight to the death, especially when one side is a legendary hero. There's also the question of what constitutes a villain? Simply a person on the wrong side of an equation? He had no sympathy whatever for someone like Dagoth-Ur, not after all the chaos caused to his people. There might have been a glimmer of regret, perhaps an echo from something in a past life if those things are to be believed. But the only way forward for his people at the time, was to end him and to stop the blight.

Dagoth-Ur was...a symptom of a deeper problem. A different betrayal. But did that betrayal from thousands of years ago translate to villainy specifically? It's not like there wasn't a semblance of peace for Morrowind for a time -- but of course there's so, so much that can be peeled back about that (and I did not go into it for World, and I did not write a Morrowind fic.) Suffice to say, there were evils underneath the surface, even under the best of intentions. That said, Teldryn isn't sure why, exactly, but he let Vivec go. Yes, the one who held Baar Dau over the city as a reminder of his power. As a threat. Who, upon losing his power, could be the reason Morrowind is in such a state in the 4th era because of this decision. He was a villain. This facet was villainous. Was it sympathy to spare him even after that or a different kind of defeat? Still not sure. Teldryn had destroyed Vivec's connection to divinity and death would come for him eventually. It just didn't have to be by his hand.

19. Do they have any family?

Once, a long time ago, at this point beyond his earliest memories, he did have parents, back when he lived in the Imperial City. He was a young child when they died and he was shipped off to Morrowind, a place he'd never seen. There had been an uncle he was to stay with according to his papers, but he never made it that far. He ran away as soon as he got off the ship. Nobody followed him. Nobody rescued him. He grew up on his own and stayed without a family for literally centuries.

These days, at least in the flash-forward chapters of my fic, he is in the process of having a family, we'll say. He's not married, but he and Nyenna are about to be parents regardless. Until now, he had friends who filled the empty places where a family might have been. Things change, even if it takes centuries, though. (:

[headintheclouds-posts]

Hey there :) it's me again the SMF anon who still didn't request.. (I'm so sorry, but I've been trying to come up with something since my ask.. why is it so hard to request something? 😭💀) But yeah well.. I actually kind of have something.. if you're still up to it of course!!

So I really like Yejun from Just Jerk 👀 and well, if you actually decide to write something, then idk.. I thought maybe something like friends to lovers? (they're both dancers) like him being into reader and confessing.. (reader likes him too and happy ending lol) and if you want to, you could make it a little suggestive in the end.. like them making out or smth..?

Idk I'm so sorry I'm so bad at this 😭😭😭 (shaking my head at myself rn bc this is so embarrassing)

Oh my goodness 😂 you’re too cute 🥰. Don’t apologise at all! I’m always here to help and give advice and the way you have explained what you want me to write is perfect, so don’t worry at all. Also Yejun is gorgeous, so I can see why you like him.

I hope this is ok and please send more requests in the future: don’t ever be embarrassed to ask ❤️.

Suggestive ❤️

You’re hit with the cool air conditioning as you walk into the practice room, as you spot several people who are already stretching in front of the mirrored wall. Walking to the corner of the room you place your bag on the floor and get out your water bottle before joining the other dancers to stretch. You usually didn’t come to the Just Jerk academy as you already a part of the 1 Million dance team, but one of your closest friends was running the class so you wanted to come and support.

Some of the girls sat in front of you suddenly gasped and started giggling amongst themselves. ‘Oh my god, he’s better looking than his pictures’ one of the girls whispers, ‘I wonder if he has a girlfriend?’ the other one responds. You slowly turn your head to see who they are talking about, but trying to not be too obvious about it. Unsurprisingly they are talking about your good friend Yejun, the one who was running this class. You’re not even remotely surprised at their comments though as since he appeared on Street Man Fighter, it’s difficult to even get into a class with any of the Just Jerk members. Just then a voice pulls you out of your thoughts, ‘y/n’, you hear as you look up to see Yejun walking towards you smiling. You could feel the girls eyes burning into the side of your head. You try to ignore it and stand up to greet him. ‘Hey’ you smile as he pulls you in for a quick hug. ‘Ready for todays class?’ He asks rubbing his hands together in excitement. ‘Always’ you giggle patting him on the shoulder. He pauses for a second, smiling at you before clapping his hands to let everyone know the class was about to start.

The class goes well and Yejun as always controls the room in such an effortless way. ‘Thank you everyone for coming and as usual we will post our next classes on our website’. Everyone slowly starts to gather their things and exit the room, whilst you wait for Yejun. You always had a few drinks and watched a movie together after a class. Yejun was saying goodbye to everyone when the girls from earlier approach him, ‘You’re such a good teacher’ one of them giggles placing her hand on his shoulder, ‘I would love to have a boyfriend that could dance like you, your girlfriend is very lucky’ she says fluttering her eyelashes, ‘oh I, erm well I’m actually single’ Yejun responds awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before looking in your direction, the expression on his face is almost unreadable. ‘Well in that case take my number’ she smiles, tucking a piece of paper in his hands before turning on her heel and leaving with her friends in tow. You don’t know why but seeing that made your stomach drop, for some reason you wanted to walk across the room and rip up the paper in front of him, but instead you ask him if he’s ready to go, which he nods in response.

You walk side by side to his apartment in complete silence, it felt like you both had a lot to say but couldn’t bring yourselves to say anything at all. You arrive at Yejun’s place and make yourself comfortable on his sofa whilst he gets you both a drink. ‘What do you want to watch?‘ he asks to no response. You couldn’t help yourself, you were still thinking about the girl earlier who gave him the phone number. ‘Are you gonna go out with that girl?’ You blurt out without thinking, ‘erm I mean, if you would prefer we could watch a movie together another time, if you want to hang out with her’ you splutter trying to grasp back at your dignity which seemed to of just abandoned you. ‘Now why would I want to do that?’ He questions, cocking his eyebrow at you. ‘Well she’s pretty and she really seems to like you’ you state, not looking up from your eyelashes. ‘I’ve met prettier’ he responds causing you to finally look him in the eyes. ‘What’s she like?’ you ask as he sits himself next to you. ‘Hmm well, she’s kind, warm, an amazing dancer and she’s been a good friend to me for a long time’ he says as he moves closer towards you, ‘what else?’ you ask as your heart pounds in your chest. ‘To be honest I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but I’ve always been too scared to tell her in case she doesn’t feel the same’. At this point your faces are only inches away from each other. ‘How should I show her how I feel?’ He asks you as his eyes scan your face. ‘I think you should kiss her’ you whisper before his hand finds its way to the back of your head and his lips envelope yours. The kiss is filled with passion and emotion as you both cling to each other. Once you break apart you’re both fighting for breath, ‘you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that’ he says as he pulls you onto his lap to face him. ‘I think I’ve always wanted you too’ you reply, ‘but I’ve only just come to realise it, sorry I took so long’. ‘It’s ok, it doesn’t matter how long it took to get you to be mine, as long as I’ve got you then that’s all that matters’ he smiles as he pulls you into another kiss. The butterflies in your stomach awaken as his hands snake around your waist pulling you closer. ‘I can’t handle myself around you’ he whispers in your ear as he lays you back on the couch. You wrap your legs around his hips and connect your lips against his as you slowly loose yourself in each other.

[linkedkeysau-official]

Whumptober 2022- Linked Keys edition

Day 19- Enough is enough/knees buckling/repeatedly (+art)

There were times when a sudden issue arising has forced the Chain to stop and rest for a prolonged period of time. Usually it was illness or a severe injury, but none of the boys had expected something like this, especially not from their most seasoned veteran, Legend. And yet, following a tough battle against more of those stupid oversized monsters, Legend had suddenly collapsed. While he had woken up quickly and claimed to feel okay, Time and Warriors both agreed they should stop for the rest of the afternoon and set up camp early. During this time, Legend had been ordered to sit down and rest while Hyrule looked him over to make sure he was actually okay. But the fact that he couldn’t find anything wrong was, if possible, even more concerning. Legend didn’t appear to be sick. He wasn’t hurt; at least not beyond a couple of scratches and small bruises, neither of which should have caused him to faint like that. He’d been drinking water, he’d eaten today, and Four confirmed that Legend had slept all last night while the former was on watch. There wasn’t a single explanation Hyrule— or anyone else— could find for why Legend had passed out earlier.

Legend knew the answer, but never planned on revealing the truth to these guys. No matter how close they were. If they knew, they’d think he was weak, treat him as if he were some fragile porcelain doll. He’d gotten this far letting them live in ignorance, and honestly his condition hadn’t been too bad lately. It could be easily ignored. Worst case scenario, if it did get bad, he could always ask to rest and blame it on being tired. The jokes about him getting old were a lot better than them always watching him, staring at him like someone who could simply drop dead at any moment. So he never brought it up, and decided he never would. Hopefully, knowing that he seemed to be okay now, they’d eventually be able to put this incident behind them and everyone could continue living in ignorant bliss. But of course he should have known it wouldn’t go that smoothly.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have stayed put. But he was getting antsy. He hated that he was being forced to sit still and not move too much just because he’d randomly collapsed (for no reason, as far as they knew) at the end of a fight. It had been several hours since then anyway, and he felt just fine. He needed to stretch his legs a bit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Warriors demanded.

“Relax, Pretty Boy, I’m just going for a walk. My ass is getting sore from all this sitting around.” Legend rolled his eyes.

“You’re not going alone. Not while we’re still unsure of what caused you to faint.” Time stated firmly.

“I’ll go with him.” Twilight offered, getting up as well, “If something happens, I’ll whistle.” He held up the little horse whistle he had on a string around his neck.

“Alright. Be safe, you two. And don’t go too far. It’ll be dark soon and I don’t want to risk you getting caught by monsters out there alone.” Time said.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Legend assured him. Nobody looked convinced, but they didn’t try to stop him as he walked away with Twilight, either.

Legend walked through the trees until the camp was no longer in view, where he stopped for a minute, taking a deep breath of fresh, campfire-smoke-free air. It was quiet all around, aside from a few birds calling out and cicadas beginning to sing as the sun set. The other heroes were great to hang around with, but damn he missed this, being alone in nature like this. Only a hint of red was visible above the trees, turning the sky a cool purple color. The first few stars were coming into view. If Legend was still the naive teen he was back during his first adventure, he might have made a wish. But he wasn’t. He knew wishes made on stars never really came true, and if they did, it was nothing more than chance. He would know, from how many times he’s tried, and yet he still ended up being the goddesses’ errand boy. He still never saw Marin again… He still had this damned heart condition.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized that he and Twilight had gotten separated at some point until it was nearly dark. The howling of a wolf echoed through the air from somewhere nearby and Legend dared to hope it was his friend calling to him… until he heard several more howls in response. Shit… That wasn’t Twilight. Those were normal wolves, or with Legend’s luck, probably Wolfos. And with how close the first howl was, no doubt they could smell rabbit on him. Twilight at least could, and he had warned Legend about that too. Stay away from wolves, they can smell the rabbit on you. As if Legend needed a warning. The only wolf he’d be caught within mauling distance of was Twilight, and only because he knew Twilight wouldn’t hurt him. But these wolves for sure would.

Legend tried to run, but soon found himself surrounded by gray-furred beasts, all snarling ferociously. They were smaller than Twilight, but that didn’t make them any less terrifying. Like an idiot, he hadn’t brought his sword or any of his other items. Dammit, he was supposed to be the one prepared for anything! And he hadn’t thought for one second that he could be attacked out here. Seeing that he was cornered, panic set in, sending his little rabbit heart into a frenzy.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

A horribly familiar feeling of dizziness washed over Legend. Panic was a normal response to fear, as was increased heart rate. The problem for Legend was that in times of stress, his heart often started to beat too fast. A side effect of his rabbit transformation for sure, but something that has never gone away since his first visit to the Dark World, and always caused problems at the worst possible times, such as right now. If he had a chance at fleeing or fighting back, it was gone now. He’d collapse the moment he made any sort of sudden movement. If he collapsed, he was wolf dinner. Unfortunately, as his heart pounded harder and harder, faster and faster; a burning ache growing in his chest, the feeling of lightheadedness increasing to the point of nausea… collapse was imminent either way. He could barely keep himself upright as it was. But as if by some miracle, Twilight appeared at just that moment.

“Legend!” A loud, shrill whistle was heard before Twilight grabbed ahold of the other object around his neck, and with a burst of dark power, had transformed into a wolf. He came to a stop in front of Legend, growling at the other wolves. As several of them seemed to back away in fear of this much larger wolf, Legend’s legs finally gave out from under him and he fell to the ground right as the other wolves fled. Twilight turned around in alarm, giving a whine, followed by a loud bark, as Legend’s consciousness faded.

He woke up to a wet nose in his face. The last little bit of light in the sky above him told him he hadn’t been out long, but his wolf friend seemed to be extremely worried nonetheless. This was evidenced by the series of pitiful whines that Twilight gave him as he gently nudged Legend’s cheek as he managed to slowly push himself to a sitting position. Legend gave him a pat on the head, knowing Twilight secretly liked that.

“I’m okay, Wolfie. Just had a little panic attack, that’s all.” He lied, “Rabbits and wolves… You know how it is. I think I’m ready to go back to camp now, though.” Legend at least thought his last attack was over. It should be safe to stand up as long as he didn’t move too fast… He twisted around to where he was on his knees, then tried to stand up from there. Problem was, the second he put effort into standing, his heart began racing again. The dangerously fast, unsteady rhythm was pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else. He could feel every beat slamming into his ribs.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

His chest felt painfully tight, causing him to instinctively clutch a hand to it as if that would stop it hurting. He couldn’t breathe… He felt as if his heart and lungs were being squeezed by a massive fist. He heard a sob escape his lips as the pain only intensified. Waves of nausea and dizziness washed over him like a relentless stormy sea. His vision went blank, and the last thing he felt before blacking out completely was the sensation of falling.

Twilight saw Legend fail to get up, collapsing as he tried. Twilight couldn’t smell any blood, so he didn’t seem to be wounded. But he wasn’t waking up either… This was the third time Legend had passed out today, obviously there was something wrong. But what?

Okay, calm down… You blew the whistle. The others should be on their way. Just keep him safe until they get here, Twilight thought to himself. Cautiously he lay down on the ground, resting his head and his front paws on top of Legend’s body. He could feel Legend’s heart pounding at what for sure was an abnormal rate, but had that been the reason he passed out? Or was it a side effect of something worse?

“Legend?! Twilight?! Are you okay? We heard the whistle, and…” Wild came running through the trees, followed by Warriors and Hyrule.

“What happened?!” Hyrule asked in alarm upon seeing Legend lying motionless on the ground as Twilight got up from his spot, quickly shifting back into his hylian form.

“I don’t know. We got separated, and he was surrounded by wolves. He collapsed right after I found him, but then he woke up, and we tried to come back to camp but…” Twilight tried to explain. Warriors was kneeling down beside Legend, taking his pulse.

“Shit, Hyrule, come here. This isn't good." He said. Hyrule turned to him before joining Warriors at Legend's side, "Feel his pulse." Warriors moved so Hyrule could feel the side of Legend's neck.

"His heart's beating way, way too fast…" Hyrule muttered worriedly, "Twilight, did you notice him acting weird before he collapsed? Either time?"

"I… I don't know. It was dark, I couldn't see. My sight isn't that great in wolf form anyway. He… He did sound like he was having trouble breathing, but he told me it was a panic attack, because of the wolves." Twilight explained.

"This goes beyond a panic attack. There's something wrong with his heart. There's no way it should be beating this fast." Hyrule shook his head, not looking up for one second as he checked Legend's body for any sort of mark or bite that might have poisoned him and caused this.

"We should get him back to camp. Our supplies are all there and it's safer." Warriors suggested. Hyrule nodded. Twilight lifted Legend into his arms and the group returned to their camp.

"What happened?" Time asked.

"He collapsed again." Warriors explained as Twilight set Legend down on his bedroll. Warriors checked his pulse again, "dammit, heart rate still hasn't gone down. The hell is wrong with—"

"Tachycardia." Wild spoke up.

"What?" Everyone else asked in unison.

"I, uh… I think I read it in a book somewhere in one of the Sheikah labs. It's… I think it's when your heart can suddenly start beating too fast and it can make you pass out. I don't remember much about what I read, but it's often triggered by stress."

"That's… a much better guess than any of us had." Hyrule glanced at Twi and Wars.

"Way to go, Cub." Twilight praised.

"But knowing what's wrong doesn't help much. We've gotta try to get his heart rate to slow down before it kills him, or… whatever this tacky-whatever does." Warriors butted in.

"Right. Let me try…" Hyrule raised his hands over Legend's chest, letting his magic flow into him. Warriors kept two fingers on Legend's wrist, waiting to see if his speeding pulse slowed at all with the help of Hyrule's magic. It did, but not by much.

"It's not enough. We've gotta try something else." Warriors said.

"Potions?" Twilight suggested.

"Wait! I remember something else from that book! I think if you put his feet up that'll help. Something about… directing blood flow back to your heart or… I don't know, but I think that's what it said to do." Wild said.

"How the hell do you even know this stuff?" Paint asked. Wild shrugged,

"I got bored when Purah was working on restoring my Sheikah Slate. Saw this book that fell off a bookshelf and wanted to see if I could understand a single word that was in it."

"Well it's coming in handy now, I'd say." Twilight said. Hyrule had piled up a few people's bags, then moved Legend's legs to rest on top.

"Guys it's working. His pulse is slowing down." Warriors stated.

"Holy shit. Wild, you're amazing." Future laughed. Everyone was now coming over to check on Legend. Within a few minutes, he finally began to stir, his heart having returned to a more normal pace. Still fast, but it had always been a little on the fast side anyway. Legend finally opened his eyes, staring around at the crowd of people staring down at him with worried faces.

"Legend! You're awake!" Mask cheered.

"How are you feeling?" Wild asked.

"Nnnng… like shit…" he groaned weakly.

"Well I'd assume so. You collapsed three times today!" Warriors scolded.

"When I saw you collapse back in the woods, I thought you were having a heart attack." Twilight admitted.

"Your heart was beating so fast… I wasn't sure how you were even still alive!" Hyrule said.

Shit. They know.

"It was just a… panic… I-I'm fi—" he tried to lie.

"Don't fucking tell us you're 'fine' after that. You are not fine, you have not been fine. I've noticed you acting weird before, like you were out of breath and in pain when we weren't even doing anything. You passed out three separate times tonight, and Twilight confirmed the same behavior the last two times." Warriors yelled at him, "your heart was beating at almost 200 times a minute. I get that you were scared, but even then, it should not be that high. You have been hiding something from us, and it has been posing a serious threat to your health— your life, even. Enough is enough; you are going to tell us what has been going on, when it started, what causes it, and how to treat it just in case this ever happens again."

"A fast heart… is normal for a rabbit." Legend said.

"For a rabbit, yes, but you're—" Warriors paused, "Wait, are you saying this has something to do with your rabbit form?!"

"Not sure if that's what caused it but it… Only started after my first transformation… During my first adventure. Uh… Six years ago?"

"Six years?! You've been dealing with this for six years and you never once told anyone about it? I never heard anything about the Hero of Legend having heart problems and still kicking ass like you did." Paint demanded.

"Okay, we get it. Legend kept this from a lot of people." Hyrule butted in, turning back to Legend, "What triggers it, usually?"

"Stress… Sometimes anger… overexertion… Sta- Standing up too fast… Those are the main ones."

"And how do you normally deal with it?"

"Well, sitting down is always good. Or laying down is… better. Lots of water. Putting my feet up… like this. Finding ways to calm down..." Legend said.

"Okay, well we've got most of that going for you already. Someone get him some water." Warriors ordered. Hyrule ran off and came back with a waterskin. Twilight helped Legend sit up, allowing him to lean against him for support, as Hyrule handed Legend the waterskin.

"Better?" Hyrule asked.

"A little, yeah…" Legend nodded, taking another drink, "Do… you guys think I'm weak… because of this?"

"Weak? Heck no!" Twilight replied.

"Dude if anything you're insanely strong. You said this started back on your first quest? This is what, your fifth?! And you've been dealing with this the whole time. That's incredible." Wild said.

"Really living up to your nickname." Wind smiled.

"Yeah, you're a real legend, Legend." Future agreed.

"I wasn't trying to make you look weak. None of us were. I just don't want this to happen again and none of us know how to help you. We care about you, Ledge. We all care about you a lot. And if you were to die because you were too scared of looking weak to tell us about a legitimate health issue…" Warriors trailed off. Time knelt down and put a hand on Legend's shoulder.

"We're just glad you're okay. You're part of our family now, Legend. So please don't feel the need to hide things from us. Okay?"

"... I'll try."

[heymeowmao]

2022.07.18 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321324792677232148593

LYN: Hallo everybody, good evening. I am Modern Brother’s Liu Yuning. Welcome~ C: It feels like you haven’t streamed for such a long time. LYN: Yes, just one day without seeing me and it seems like so many seasons have passed.

- Went to sleep one night and woke up with a sore throat, turns out he caught a cold LYN: You might be listening and feel that I have a very thick nasal tone- that’s because my sinuses are full of snot. It’s possible that while I’m streaming I might have to blow my nose, and I hope that it doesn’t affect your viewing experience. Anyone who’s eating right now can eat a little faster.  LYN: I’ve taken medicine. I’m an adult, so I know how to take care of myself at least that much. I just caught a cold, is all. I know to grab an umbrella when it’s raining and to take medicine when I’m sick. I’ve taken some already- all sorts, I don’t care I’m eating them all. XD LYN: It’s not like the drama you’re acting in cares about seasons, so it’s not like I can wear weather appropriate clothes on the camera. So I’ll be wearing dress shirts, to look a little more handsome. Mostly, the air conditioning on set is not turned on either, because it will create noise interference. It will just sound like this: /sound of a fan/ Why do I have that sound? Because my laptop is too hot and I’ve given it a fan. So, since it creates a problem with receiving audio, we usually don’t turn the A/C on and the set will be on the hotter side. Chengdu these days has been pretty hot... It’s not bad... But after we do one take the clothes are already soaked through with sweat, so we head back inside for the A/C. After a day of back and forth, hot and cold, I seem to have gotten sick. It’s alright. Only a small matter- who doesn’t get sick, right?

- His diet & exercise efforts are paying off, so he’s lost a little weight (presumably gaining muscle, though); says how he sees videos of himself from 2-3 years ago and calls himself a “baozi”, thanks his fans for sticking with him XD

- Speed of the comments is a little fast today, it’s making him dizzy. Asks the weibo staff if they can adjust for him, so he can “See all the praise my friends are giving me.” LYN: You see? I mentioned it and now you’re all typing FASTER. I’ve noticed you’re all young people with a sense of rebellion aren’t you? I said the comments were going by too quickly and you’re over here typing faster. You want to see me throw up, is that it? Look at this. Who can see this clearly?? What is this? I told you not to type so fast and now you’re typing “haha” and making the comments go by even faster. This is a perverse speed. Look at this- WHAT IS THIS? Even if you have nothing to say, some people are just typing “haha” to get in on the action. Alright- whatever. It’s fine. You can type. LYN: This just goes to show that I have high viewer ratings. I am SO popular and there are SO MANY COMMENTS that they just go by in a flash. Actually, you’ve fallen for my trap- this is exactly what I wanted. LYN: Okay, that’s about enough. I’m sure you’re all tired as well. Let’s continue our chat while we wait for the staff to adjust the speed. Thank you. - To him, streaming is like a hobby- where other people ride bicycles, hike, and skateboard, his hobby is to stream. He’s been streaming on weibo for almost two years now, and thanks weibo for always supporting him. LYN: People who watch my stream are my fans or maybe some passersby, but also some of the people might have trouble getting to sleep; you can play my stream and I guarantee that within 10-15 minutes sleep will come to you- that’s how “boring” I am. But it is my honor to help you get to sleep. If you look at it a different way, it means that my streams are a very stress-relieving, and I can help you relax. 

C: Was your hair styled? LYN: This is all.. natural. Meaning I ran mussed it with my hands a little and left it. There’s not much style going into it right now.

C: I’ve brought five of my good friends with me to watch. LYN: What a good friend. Good things must be shared. 

C: Where did you get that shirt? LYN: ?_? What sort of question is this? It’s going to be in a shop or from online. Or are you going to the bathhouse to buy a shirt?

C: Does your cold affect your acting? LYN: More or less, it will. One thing that comes to mind is that I’ll look uglier when I’m on camera... but that’s not much of a difference because I always look ugly on camera. Even if I’m uglier by one or two degrees it’s still okay. It will make your nasal tone heavier and make you look more weary, for sure. Yesterday was the worst of it- when you feel like your whole head is blocked and you feel uncomfortable. Coincidentally, the take we did yesterday happened to be my “debut” scene. I was standing there with Tao-jie, and she asked me why I looked so haggard. I told her I was sick, and thought she was looking after me, but then she said, “Ok, well, don’t pass it to me.” Then we filmed the scene. I thought I came out looking SO UGLY. LYN: Sometimes I like wearing glasses- and you can differentiate the reason for when I do and when I don’t. If I get up and get into hair and makeup and after all of that I think I look terrible, I will wear some glasses. They’ll help cover some of my “ugly”. So for my first scene yesterday I wore the glasses, to help cover, and asked Tao-jie if I looked okay- if now my appearance made me worthy of standing next to her. She said, “It does look better, but the glasses are considered an “appearance”. If you don’t wear the glasses and still look haggard, then it’s considered your “character”.” What does that mean?? But because my character in the drama is supposed to be falling on tough times, then actually my weary appearance helps make him more convincing. I thought about it, and she was right. All of a sudden my “ugly” wasn’t a flaw of mine, but an asset to the character. So I decided not to wear the glasses, but on the inside I was thinking, “It won’t be YOU who is cursed at for looking ugly when this drama airs, anyway.” Okay, so I listened to her. It all made sense. - says that he still has a bit of an “idol burden” in daily life, but he will let it down when he is acting and can accept any appearance or state; always learning from the actors with more experience than him.  

C: Does you new director yell at you? LYN: Why are you trying to dig me into a pit? He doesn’t yell at people. Working with directors, it’s different every time. They’re not going to just sit there and praise you for a job well done. I actually really like the way this one works, because I really enjoy his thoughts and ideas. It’s already a great script but he will take a scene and add just small details that make it even more exciting and better to look at. I don’t think there’s a single scene that we’ve shot that will be wasted. 

- Someone came to ask if it was time for class (to learn the Vietnamese song) yet, but it’s not because the stream hasn’t hit a peak number of viewers yet. :p LYN wants people to go out and spread the news that he is streaming, so he gets more viewers first. If you make an announcement that costs money, he will reimburse you for it (but not really). C: Then do I announce it to my upper and lower neighbors? LYN: You mean opening the window and announcing my stream to your neighborhood? There’s no need for that, since it counts as disturbing the public. Let’s not do that. 

- has been watching some dramas, but won’t share which because they are a little... violent (??); watches his own dramas though, once when doing the voice acting and the second time when it airs officially.

- starts promoting The Truth, as agreed. Mentions the script for the variety show. C: Ning-ge, you finally admit that the variety show has a script. LYN: ?? What are you saying? It’s a reasoning show- how can it move forward if there is no plot? Of course there’s a script! This is a Murder Mystery show- how can we pull it off with no script? Only murder, no mystery? C: There’s no meal discussion in this week’s diary? LYN: Right... I know that people like to watch us relax and discuss while we eat. But why wasn’t there that portion this week? I forget, but it’s probably because in the last stretch we spend quite a few consecutive days filming the end of the show. There was no time for us to record a long meal session. We’re all hot right now- most of us are actors so we were flying around trying to get everything done. BY, SZE, GQL, and myself are all shooting dramas. ZS is doing three variety shows at once. ZKY... what has he been doing lately? Being spokesperson for a bunch of brands. We’re all quite busy.  C: Is there going to be a second season? LYN: The first one hasn’t even finished airing yet- you’re thinking too much. But I think there’s a good possibility it could be cleared for a second season... because even though it’s reaching a smaller audience, it has pretty good ratings. After we wrapped up, my PD even asked me if I would be back the next time. It’s no problem for me, but if I’m not as popular next year and the ratings tank, just don’t blame it on me. 

C: Will UN have a second season. LYN: That’s probably a no. Well- I’m not the producer so I don’t know, but I haven’t received any news as an actor. There’s probably not going to be a second one. I think NPSS took back his copyrights. I’m not clear on it.

C: Which episodes of The Oasis are you on? LYN: Probably the third or fourth to last episode? I went to shoot for two days as Liu Xialai from The Truth’s Reasoning Team.

C: What’s at the bottom of the screen? LYN: You mean this? /points/ It’s my laptop screen. I was streaming the other day and thought it was overheating, so I bought a stand for it.

- admits he has been watching The Boys (American TV Series); doesn’t recommend it because it’s a little... bloody. C: We’re all adults. // Then why are YOU watching (if it’s violent and bloody)? LYN: I’m an adult! I also watch scary things. I just finished up the third season.

C: Ning-ge eat a can of yellow peaches. LYN: You see that I’m sick and want me to eat a can of peaches? You think I’m a child, right? When I was little my parents had always told me to eat a can of peaches when I was sick. I don’t know about you, but that’s how it was where I grew up. You can ONLY eat the canned peaches when you were sick. Have a little sweetness and you’ll get better.

C: Ning-ge, why are you such a scaredy-cat? LYN: What do you mean. I’ll tell you this- I’m more afraid of the dark and the unknown. I think I’m okay- not too afraid- as long as I can see what’s in front of me. 

C: When’s ALZ going to air? LYN: Someone asks me this every time, and I actually met the producer jie-jie a couple days ago and asked her. She said it isn’t confirmed yet, because it is co-produced by Shanghai Films & Media and they’re still in the process of editing. So... we just wait.  LYN: In terms of which will come out the quickest, I think the one I’m shooting now will come out the earliest. Since it’s a modern drama there isn’t much special effects to add in post, so they are already starting to edit. I think it will come out the first half of the next year.  C: What about Zuo Bufan (Floating World)? LYN: I think that one is the latter half of next year.

LYN: Regarding Be Your Own Light, I guess it can count as my first male-lead drama, even though my scenes are very little. Only about 200 or so scenes. 220? Because this drama is split into three storylines, and I am only a part of Tao-jie’s story.  LYN: There are only small actors, no small roles. There are no “side” or “supporting” roles- As long as you appear in a drama, you are one of the characters. LYN: It’s already impressive enough that I am able to work beside Tao-jie. That’s the ceiling for me and I am very satisfied. I have about 200 scenes for this drama, which is about on par with Hao Du from The Long Ballad. In Floating World I have about 100+ scenes, and for Zichuan I have around 200 as well. It’s enough. I am very satisfied. C: When are you shooting 500+ scenes? LYN: That’s not important. /sigh/ I’ll take my time and improve myself step by step until that day comes.

- [t/n: I guess people are asking the age-old question: “Why LYN? What makes him worthy?”] LYN: In your eyes I may never be good enough, no matter what I do. Maybe you only think me worthy enough to sit here and stream for you. But here’s the thing- the people I am working with don’t look down on me, so what makes you think you are better than them? This is the difference between your reality and theirs. Take Tao-jie, for example. She was the one who recommended me for this drama. She is such an amazing person and didn’t see LYN as someone to look down on, but rather helped me. This is how you show your humanity. She doesn’t care if I am worthy enough or if I am professional enough- she only believed that I could do it and was willing to help me. This is the extent of her “reality”. So if you don’t think that I am worthy of what I have right now, it means that your “reality” has not been reached yet. LYN: I’ve never been “worthy” enough for anyone but it doesn’t matter because I’ve still gotten to where I am today and still signed the contracts I have had.  What can I do? It doesn’t matter if you think I’m “worthy” or not, I still have to do a good job. I used to be a cook, a waiter, a shop clerk, a salesperson- was I worthy? I think that as long as people can treat their jobs seriously and are able to continue forward on their paths it doesn’t matter if you’re “worthy” of your position or not.  LYN: I used to be a cook and I stopped, not because I didn’t like it- in truth, I didn’t like it all too much- but because I had gotten sick and my body couldn’t handle it. [t/n: something to do with his lungs]. It wasn’t anything contagious though! It was pneumothorax (?)- I don’t know if anyone here knows- there was a small hole in the lining of my lung and there was air there. [t/n: the air in this pleural space can start to compress the other lung and heart.] So I became a waiter, and got later got promoted to manager... until I didn’t want to do it anymore. All the while people were asking me why I was worthy. I had enough of the (food services) industry, so I wanted to try something different- I tried my hand at selling clothing. I was a salesperson at a pretty famous shop and people didn’t think I was worthy of that job, either. I came from a food services industry, what did I know about selling clothing? I wasn’t worthy. But I didn’t care, and just kept selling clothes... until our shop was in the green for sales. I don’t know about men’s clothing, but the women’s clothing sold pretty quickly. I don’t know why. :) C: You’re worthy. You’re VERY worthy. LYN: Are you saying I’m only worthy enough to sell you clothing?? LYN: Anyway, I just want to say to anyone working in any industry, don’t care too much about your “worth”. There will always be telling people you can't make it- they don’t matter and can’t influence your future development. The only one who can decide that is yourself. The only one limiting yourself is you- if you want something you have to take small steps in that direction until you attain it. You won’t know what you’re capable of unless you try. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says because they aren’t the ones living your life.

C: It’s almost time for me to enter society- I’m lost. LYN: You don’t need to be lost. I’ve been there. When I first stepped into society I was wondering what should I do, what CAN I do? What will I do for the future? Am I going to waste my life away? Just living paycheck to paycheck? But let me tell you this- the moment you graduate and start thinking all these things. There’s no point. Thinking about these things won’t help you precisely because you can’t think of what you should do. No one knows. Of course, there are the few who have a set goal in mind, and that’s definitely one path towards success. But most of the time people don’t have a set goal in mind, and the way they move forward is step by step, through experiences. There are people you will meet or situations you will encounter that will help you grow as a person. These people and situations may give you an opportunity or a choice. You don’t need to be too lost right now- just DO SOMETHING first, and opportunity may come later. If you have some type of job in mind, try working towards that and later it will become clearer to you whether it’s something you want to keep pursuing or not.

C: I don’t have friends. LYN: I don’t either. No friends, no co-workers. You just have to do it. Don’t consider anything too small. Im not trying to teach you a lesson or anything- many of you are far more successful than I am. More intelligent, and more cultured. I just want to share my advice- which you can choose to take or not. You’ve just got to get yourself out there, and don’t waste your time away. If you just stay in your house wasting time you’ll have no opportunities- you’ll meet no-one and get nowhere. Connections are very important, and that’s true for everyone. You’ll need connections to friends or co-workers. There are people who are very good at socializing, and they can survive anywhere. There are people who are strong in their skillset, so even if they don’t have connections they can still survive. There are people who don’t have any particular skillset, but are good at socializing- they can survive equally as well.  C: I have social anxiety.  LYN: Me too. Don’t get me wrong just because you see me chatting away on screen. I’m very afraid of any gathering that includes people who are like... director status and up. I really can’t do the pandering socializing as expected of people in my position. First of all, because I can’t hold a drink, therefore I am unable to share a toast with them for very long. Secondly, I can’t do the lip-service. It might not seem like it, but I really can’t do it. As soon as I’m at a table with a director I’m timid and weak- the only thing I’m there for is to eat. You talk amongst yourselves, I’ll be here, eating. But if there is someone I’m more familiar with at the table, they’ll tell me to go up and offer a toast. In that case I’ll say, “But there are so many people, I’m afraid to interrupt :(” and in that case they will have to take charge and make room in the conversation for me. I just feel like they’re such busy people, they don’t need nor want me there to inconvenience them. I will just sit there, very small, minding my own business and when everyone is about done for the night I excuse myself and make a getaway.  LYN: I have social anxiety too. You might not see it because this is my stream and I need to keep the mood up, but I’m really not great at socializing. :| C: I don’t believe you. // Then how did you get so many jobs out of going to a dinner party? LYN: /sigh/ Let me explain- sometimes when I stream and tell you how I got a job and give you all these details... you can try to believe only 20% of what I say. I’m only trying to share my work experience with you in a fun and relaxing way, but do you really think society is this simple, friends?? Does the world OWE me? Nothing is as simple as it seems. I just tell you the basics- and none of everything else that goes on behind the scenes. There’s no way I’m going to tell you in excruciating detail about a contract that took three months to complete. It’s not that simple, and please don’t think it is. There are people and media accounts that THINK they know how this industry works, but in reality they’re nowhere close to the truth. - He only tells us about the successful contract negotiations, first of all, and he also only tells us the the basics of how he got the job. But there is so much more he is leaving out for the sake of simplicity. 

- he’s trending! LYN: I don’t believe you. I’m not ~wOrTHy~. Am I really, though? - tries to play one of his own songs, but the audio isn’t working -> /troubleshooting/ LYN: I don’t believe (I’m trending)- how about this? Friends, slap me. To prove I’m not dreaming. Come on. Bring your hand over and slap me. Quickly!

- sang a bit of 黑夜一束光, then said he wasn’t going to sing because of his cold - proceeds to start the lesson and review of the next installment of (chorus of) the Vietnamese song from two streams ago: HKT - TẢI THÊM MỘT LẦN ĐAU; types the “lyrics” for ease of understanding- as much as you can of Vietnamese lyrics written in a Chinese homophonic equivalent, that is... XD  C: I don’t know the song name. LYN: It’s in Vietnamese- I don’t know it either. But there is a Chinese version of this song, called 错错错.

-- bathroom break #1 (Tactic 1: ”the neighbors are fighting”... actually their tv is too loud, and they’re watching Heroes XD)

- gently advises people not to go from somewhere very hot to somewhere very cold (with A/C) lest they catch a cold

- reiterates again that he CAN speak Standard Mandarin, but likes to use his hometown dialect to make himself more comfortable and to feel closer to the viewers; gives examples of the difference: instead of using -子 (zi) suffix, they will use -个 (ge) qualifier instead. Also uses -er sound more often with words. C: Then, how do you say “This is my wife”? LYN: Go home and ask your husband. Don’t stay here provoking me. 

- Zhu Xudan has entered the chat. C: Why don’t you connect with YCY? LYN: ? She’s busy- why would I connect with her? LYN: Let’s welcome ZXD-laoshi. Long time no see~

C: When’s your next drama going to start? LYN: Next month on.. the 15th? 20th? 25th? I don’t remember. It’s a guzhuang drama but it won’t be in Hengdian to start, though. I think we’re going to start in Yinchuan first. LYN: I won’t tell you what it is yet, but I think the announcement is going to be made soon. Since we’re going to start shooting soon, there will be an official announcement... and when I heard that I was preparing myself for the onslaught of criticism. /laughs/ /sighs/ It’s alright- a lot of people may not know me and think very little of me, so it’s alright if they criticize. Let’s just remember not to interact with these people, ok? I don’t want my fans to start any fights- everyone’s just working hard and doing their jobs, ok. None of us have it easy, you can let these little things slide. Another thing is, I don’t want you to attack people I work with or their fans. There are always going to be the reasonable fans and unreasonable fans, the kind ones and the mean ones. Everyone has them, even I do. But in the end it doesn’t matter what they say, but how the product comes out. If the drama airs and it flops then that just means I have to work harder. Everyone I have worked with and will work with is my senior- I’ve only debuted for 3, close to 4 years- so I hope there can be mutual respect among our fans. 

C: Where are your abs? LYN: I’m working on them- I already promised that on the new year- on December 30th- I will post a picture of my bare upper half to show you. I only just mentioned this last stream, why are you so hung up on it, like a child? This is like having a fruit tree at home and asking your mother when it will bear fruit- you have to give it some time. Let the seasons pass. Give me some time. C: Is it having any effect? LYN: Do you think it’s as easy as PS-ing abs onto my body?? I need time to accumulate muscle- it’s not something that happens in one day. Why do you thinking losing weight is such a difficult process? You need to work on it little by little, day by day.  C: Are you keeping a record? LYN: Yes, I’ve been taking a video a little bit every time. I was thinking of making a compilation and seeing my progress. When all my training results in something, then I’ll upload it. Because what’s the point of showing you when there IS no progress? C: Have you found a trainer yet? LYN: When you get started on doing something, you’ll discover that’s all you get recommended when you’re online. So Ive been learning from online- how to train abdominal muscles, how to train chest, back, shoulder muscles, how to lose weight, etc. You’ll see all these videos and tutorials from online fitness gurus and I’m looking at them all.  C: Still working out when you’re sick? LYN: Yes! I did some training yesterday. C: Are you for real this time? LYN: Of course. You think I’m still trying to fool you? Even though I have said something along these lines for seven or eight times already... but this time! This time... I’ll try to make good on the promise, otherwise it’ll make me look bad. C: I’m afraid you’ll turn into a muscleman. LYN: You think that’s something I can become just because I want to?? You think it’s so easy? If that were the case EVERYONE would be musclemen. It’s not an easy thing. C: Does this mean that in the next drama you’ll be baring your chest? LYN: No. I just want to do this for myself. Every year I have a plan for myself, and this year it’s to get fit. I know a lot of the actors I work with exercise and work out and I know I can’t compare myself to them, but I also don’t want to just fall behind/slack off. 

C: Is Chengdu fun? LYN: I don’t know, because I haven’t gone out for fun. Most of the time I’m working and there’s not much free time to shop or look around. When I first got here I did do a little shopping, though. Because this is a modern drama, so we were looking for appropriate clothing that I could wear. Other than that I have’t really had a chance to get around. Oh! But I did go to Sanxingdui- the museum.  C: The drama doesn’t provide clothing? LYN: They do. You can choose to use theirs or bring your own. Of course most of the time I wear what’s provided, but sometimes I want to wear something that fits me better or something in my own style.

- went to an arcade and later exchanged his pile of tickets for two backpacks, so he could give them to his RV driver’s two kids. The total cost of the backpacks themselves probably wasn’t much more than 300RMB, but since they were acquired with game tickets then in actuality they cost much more. XD

C: Do you have a lot of (your own) clothing? LYN: There is quite a lot, for 200 scenes. The difference between a modern drama and a guzhuang drama is that in the latter you may go for a long period of time wearing the same clothing, but you can’t for a modern drama. In a guzhuang drama if someone wears the same outfit for the first 10 or so episodes, you don’t think anything of it. But if a character in a modern drama does the same it looks a little strange, except it it’s a uniform. But for example, you won’t see the same t-shirt for ten consecutive episodes unless that character has some special circumstances. But even the poorest of characters have a different shirt to change into, right? LYN: So I have a lot of clothing... I think for now it’s up to 80 outfits. 80 outfits for around 200 scenes, but no matter how much the drama provides to you, there is still the wish to add your own style into it.  C: I thought each scene would get its own outfit. LYN: No, no. There are scenes that follow in continuity. For example, I go out. The next scene I am on the street. The next scene I enter a restaurant to eat with someone. The scene after that we’ve finished our meal but have started a fight with someone else. These four scenes all have the same outfit- it’s not like I’m going to have a sudden wardrobe change in the middle of the street. 

C: Does this character count as having money? LYN: I guess you can say that. He has some money because he has a restaurant- he’s a boss of his own. Even though it failed in the end... he was still the owner. C: Are going to be fight scenes? LYN: Some. If I remember correctly there’s at least one. I say it’s a fight scene, but actually it’s a “me being hit” scene. We’ll have to see how the director wants it to go. I’ve never shot a modern fight scene before. Well, I guess I have. C: How do you like working with Tao-jie? LYN: I’m very happy. There are always useful things you can learn from working with other actors.

C: Where did all your model figures go? LYN: I see you’re not my fan. Quickly go subscribe to my weibo. You must not be my fan you don’t know what I’ve been doing lately, and even ask where my figures went. The thing is I couldn’t make a living and had to sell them.  C: You must have made a lot of money. LYN: Not as much as I spent getting them in the first place. LYN: Let me explain to my new fan- I’m in Chengdu shooting a drama right now, and that wall is in Hengdian. This is a hotel. 

- someone wants him to play Jay Chou’s new song, but here we hit a copyright issue because you have to BUY the song, so LYN can’t just play it in his stream for free. >.<

- doesn’t like mentioning other people in his streams because there are a dedicated group of individuals who watch his stream like a hawk, waiting to take any snippet of material out of context and turn it into hate material.  LYN: I don’t want to mention other people, because I don’t want to accidentally hurt them in some way. But even so, this still won’t stop me from streaming. // There are very few artists out there who will tell you some... not very official things in their streams. It’s not because they’re trying to maintain their image or anything. I want to share my experiences with you because I started out as a very normal person who slowly found his way in the entertainment industry. But after my words are filtered through people with ill-intent I also started to understand why people don’t share. The less you share the less they can cause you trouble. But I still have a way that works for me, and anything I want to share that I CAN share, I will still tell you about. Don’t worry. - lately there have been several articles of anti-LYN material floating around, but Ning-ge really thinks there’s no need for it. “We’re all in the same industry, why can’t we just lower our heads and pass each other without confrontation?” - someone says it’s bc the media/gossip blogs are trying to leech of LYN’s fame.  LYN: What fame do I have? Who am I, even? Please don’t say that I have any fame or that anyone is trying to ride my coat-tails. I don’t have fame and I only ride other people’s coat-tails. XD C: But the media accounts are all saying you’re “hot”. LYN: There’s different categories of “hot” too- the bad kind and the good kind. Usually you won’t hear about the good kind. 

- won’t be on Chinese Restaurant 6 bc he truly has no time [t/n: looks like Chen Linong and Yin Zheng will be regulars though!]

 - says that there are definitely people who will say he’s not taking his drama roles seriously, but to defend himself clarifies that he has already done a script reading with the whole cast of YNGS twice while he was still in Hengdian. (Not counting the times he went over the script by himself.) He has already shared his thoughts with the director before he left, and also asked if the director had any points he wanted LYN to work on while he was in Chengdu, to which the director had no requests to make of him, other than “Come back on time.” So he’s already made the appropriate preparations. - comments on how for a guzhuang drama the wig is the most important for actors- someone will look good in one drama while looking bad in another one, and it’s because of the wig. LYN: For the next drama I’ll need FOUR wigs, and I spent a total of two whole days helping to prep for those. This drama has a high standard for their wigs, and not only that but mine in particular really needs a lot of hair. Not because I have a lot of hair, but because I’m tall and the hair has to be even longer to accommodate. I was sitting there for four hours (each wig) letting the hair artist fix the wigs, to match the shape of my face and patch hair- if there were three strands missing they would add three. If the top was missing two strands, they would add two to the top. Very detailed. So now I have two done and when I get back we’ll get to work on the other two.

- amusing the notion of getting together with some production companies to agree on a livestream set-up where he can go to some different drama crews filming around Hengdian and just... drop in on them to see the set and interview the directors and actors, etc. They could do one or two different drama crews a week. LYN: I think it would be fun. C: Do you have time, though? Mr. Male Lead? LYN: Uh.. Eh! Who told you I was male lead? I’m not worthy! LYN: I can try it, but I have to collaborate with the production companies. It’s not like I can do it just because I want to. Some are under wraps and it’s a complicated process where there needs to be negotiations, like whether the crew is willing to even let me check them out. C: ZSX is in Hengdian. LYN: He is, and it’s fine if I go to see him, but his crew might have a different opinion. Anyway, it’s a fun idea. C: I’m already eating this “pie (in the sky)”. LYN: Eat first, don’t go hungry. Whether or not it’s a “good” pie or a “bad” pie, you’ll know later when you have an upset stomach or not. C: It SOUNDS fun. LYN: I think so too. I just want to do something no one else thinks of nor has the ability to do. I mean, who else would put down their own identity (as an actor) and go around to drop in and stream about other drama crews? No one else, probably. I think people shouldn’t think too highly of themselves, but must know where their value lies. C: Ning-ge, what about cameoing in every drama around Hengdian? LYN: You think I don’t have any other work to do?? I only said that as a joke- maybe one day when I can no longer find work I’ll see about the cameos, but I have my own roles to act so why should I cameo for other people?

C: Disney. LYN: Maybe when I have some time in the future I’ll have to try the Disney stream again. It’s a little inconvenient right now. I’m busy working! Maybe when I have some time off I will go to Disney and stream more often for you. I also have important things to do. My friends, you have to remember that my profession is as a singer and actor. Streaming is just my personal hobby. Someone said it earlier- some artists like racing, some like playing with skateboards, and exercising etc. But my hobby is to stream, but that doesn’t mean it’s my JOB (even though I /am/ pretty good at it).

C: Can you stop the stream earlier, I’m a little sleepy. LYN: What time is it, even? /checks his watch/ It’s only seven, how are you sleepy? There’s something wrong with my watch... /shakes his arm/ It’s broken! /shakes it again, pokes it/ Oh, it’s running. That scared me. LYN: You’re free to do what you want- if you’re sleepy then go to sleep. There’s no rule here that says you HAVE TO stay up, if you’re sleepy then go to sleep, because I know a lot of you have work or school tomorrow. But if you CAN stay up with me, do it. We can chat and you can listen to me blabber. Stay up if you can. Why? Because I only stream the one time a week. You can stand to stay up every once in a while, unless you have something really important to do.

- LYN is honestly tired of answering the “When is the concert happening?” question. C: I’m from overseas, so how do I get a ticket? LYN: I’m not even HOLDING A CONCERT yet what are you worried about getting a ticket for?? C: How much will tickets be? LYN: I’m not even holding it yet, how would I know how much the tickets will cost???? C: You can hold an online concert. LYN: I already talked about this- what other artists do and choose is their own business. But I won’t hold an online concert, because when I stream it practically IS an online concert. Even though I don’t sing that many songs, and the visuals aren’t that amazing. But I believe the best thing about a concert is the atmosphere when you’re there in person. If I just wanted to listen to someone sing, I would play their CD- and it would be perfect and clear. But at a concert you have the different nuances of a song sung live and the added bonus of screaming along with the other fans around you. // A couple years ago I had so many platforms contact me asking if I was interested in holding an online concert and I turned them all down. To me, if I hold an online concert, that just means I’m trying to trick you out of your money. To other people an online concert may be good enough but to me a concert must be held in person.  C: Ning-ge, you can do one for free. LYN: ?! /laughs/ What you mean is you want me to hold an online concert, but not charge for it? I mean... it’s not like I can’t. People who know me know that I usually like to sing during my streams, and then singing at a big venue really makes no difference to me. ... You’re watching an online concert right now, friends. It’s just that the hair and makeup is a little lacking. But other than that, this is exactly the view from an online concert. Let me sing you a song, so you can know what it will feel like. I’m not even charging you for this, AND I closed the ability to send gifts. What else do you want from me?? LYN: Let me try a song, what do you want to hear? Something from my OSTs? I’ll give it a try and if I can’t do it (because of his cold) I will stop. It’s free anyway. LYN: Ling Yun Ji? Not that one. I’ll try Meng Hua.  - /sings weakly/ LYN: LOL. Let me do it properly. C: If you can’t sing, then don’t. Don’t try to fool us! LYN: I was just testing it out, can’t you be nicer?? This is for free! Let’s do it! -- 梦华 (A Dream of Splendor OST)

- they were talking a few streams ago about fan ranking labels in weibo, and how there was only one grade (iron fan); weibo has taken their suggestions into consideration and created different ranking labels!

-- bathroom break #2 (Tactic 2: His friend had a baby and wants it to see LYN, so that it can grow up to look like him.)

- drinking a giant jug of orange juice, for the Vitamin C C: Ning-ge, is that millet porridge? LYN: How hungry must I be to have millet porridge while I stream??? - but the Northeast does have a porridge that he can’t remember the name of, made with corn flour. LYN: I used to have it a lot because my grandma would make it. We would eat a lot of taro and yams, she would steam them. I had a lot of potatoes and yams when I was little. - ends up talking about some foods LYN: Maybe I’ll get someone from home to send me some corn flour and I can make something for you to see. We’ll do a Food Stream.  C: Another “pie in the sky”. LYN: Why are you like this? Everything I say is a “pie” first? [t/n: meaning easier said than done] There’s not even one bit of- hold on... Can we have some trust? Everything I say is a “pie”.... Where’s the trust? I was looking for a song called “Trust”... oh, here’s one. I don’t know how to sing it.  LYN: How about this? Friends- I’m telling the truth. I really didn’t- “说谎 (Tell a Lie)”. So friends, please stop saying I’m making pies. One day I really will make that cooking stream for you.  C: You can make a pie shop. LYN: /grumbles/ LYN: Someday when I get back to Hengdian, before the end of the year, I will fulfill this promise to you. 

C: What day is “someday”?// Hope it happens before I die. LYN: Can you not be so negative? Last time I said I would do a stream when I was 60/70 and you all were saying that you’d be 80/90 by then. I have a lot of jiejie-fans. Don’t have such a negative outlook- it’s possible that when I’m 40 I won’t be able to bear it anymore and hold it then. We have to live with hope and anticipation for tomorrow. C: When you’re 60 I’ll be 40. LYN: .__. Are you 15 right now?? 12?? I don’t believe it, because on average my fans are around my age. They’re either my age or older/younger than me by just a little. I don’t have young fans because honestly my looks aren’t what younger girls are looking for. They don’t like my type... I’m not a flower boy. C: /telling their ages: 16, 15, 17, 18.../ C: Young girls like your type exactly. LYN: Really~? So does that mean in the eyes of young people, I also count as a “好男人 (Good Man)”? C: /someone called it greasy/cheesy/ LYN: That’s on purpose! I see that young people are into the “big brother” vibes, I thought that was what you liked. Am I wrong? You don’t like that? Ok, that’s fine. I can sing it normally, and you won’t feel like it’s greasy. Listen. - sings it again, “normally”

C: Jiujiu, hello. LYN: I’m not your uncle. My fans’ kids usually call me Ning -jiujiu. Because they know me from their mom’s side. [t/n: instead of calling him Ning -shushu.]

C: Ning-ge, do you have male fans? LYN: I’m sure I do but their numbers are probably on the smaller side. I believe that men who really like me are the “dragons amongst people”. C: Then what about female fans? LYN: We were talking about my male fans, why are you asking about female fans... If men are the “dragons” then I guess women are the “phoenixes”, right? What else do you want me to say?? C: My husband is a fan of your songs. LYN: Thank you. Thank your husband. I don’t know if I should call him my jie-fu or my mei-fu, but for someone to call themselves a fan of my songs, I am still very happy.  C: What are male fans called? LYN: They’re not called anything- “dragons amongst people” right? So next time I see a male fan, all I have to do is call him “Long-ge”. - his female fans are called “Peng-Fei”, and not “Feng-jie” as the previous logic would suggest

LYN: If you’re sleepy, go to sleep. You don’t need to tell me.

C: Can you not have the face-slimming feature on? LYN: It’s not on- that high. :| Just a little bit, because due to how the video is displayed it will make your face look a little bigger. So it’s on just a bit- but I have never adjusted the settings. It’s always been the same. C: Turn it off, let me see. LYN: You must be sick, why would I do that. You all always want me to turn off my filters. It’s really not on that high. Only 15/100. C: Turn it to 100, let’s see. LYN: Okay, this is 100. My whole shape changed. - talking about his filter settings, but won’t turn them off because he still has an image to maintain (for his brand collaborations) XD

C: People who’ve seen you in person all say you’re handsome. LYN: :) If they don’t, they’ll get hit. People can say that I’m ugly online because I can’t get to them, but if one day someone says it to my face- do you think I’ll hit them or not?

- the latter half of The Truth is very surprising, so you can stand to check it out :)) LYN: By the end of filming I was in a daze. [t/n: not sure if because he was tired or because of the unexpected twists, maybe both.]

C: What did you do on your breaks when you were young? LYN: Do you mean to say that I’m not young anymore? What do you mean “What did you do ... when you were YOUNG?” Am I old now? But you probably mean on breaks from school. I’m not like you- I didn’t go to college. When I finished junior high, I went directly to cooking school. What did I do on breaks though? What all young people do- I went around to internet cafes and played games. C: No wonder you like to stay up all night. LYN: Exactly! A lot of people might thing this wasn’t the right thing to do, that you’re wasting the highlight of your youth away. But at the time you have no other choice, because there are no other choices to make or you aren’t clear on what you’re “supposed” to be doing. I think if this period of time made you happy, it’s enough. You might be clueless and lost right now, but later you’ll figure out what it is you want to do.  - Talking about what games he played back then; but also he really likes gaming and will check out whatever’s new. - Says that if he couldn’t beat his opponent, he would get into the chat and start cursing them out XD But now he’s grown up and knows better, so that’s why he wants to teach his fans how to be kind and polite now. If you really want him to curse you out though, I’m sure he’d do it fluently. Amends his comment to say that more than cursing, he would frustrate his opponent in the chat, just annoy them to death XD - Had a game account-for which he bought a lot of skins/equipment for- and later wanted to sell (for much cheaper than his initial investment, but some money was better than nothing). The person he was selling to wanted to check it out first, so he let them. They logged in, changed the password, and started trashing all the equipment for the avatar that he had bought and stole all his gold and potions (and also didn’t pay him for the account in the first place). LYN was able to recover the account and the items, but it took some time. - In the end the account was tricked away by him from a different person LYN: That’s why I’ll never try to sell one of my gaming accounts again. It’s not worth the anger and my high blood pressure. C: This story sounds a little fake... LYN: If it were fake then why would I spend so much time talking about it?? It’s a true story. I didn’t tell you this story to show you how naive I am, I told it to you so you can remember that I hold a grudge. I was well and truly tricked. // So now I’d rather my money was spent for nothing than ever try to sell an account again.  - /plays a gentler song at request/ C: You could have reported the account. LYN: It was too late.

- he’s used to staying up late into the night bc for many years working in a bar, it was his regular schedule to get off at 12:30a, and then after getting home, washing up, and eating it would already be 4-5 in the morning. when he’s in a drama crew his schedule gets a little more “normal” because it requires him to get up very early in the morning, so he is unable to stay up all night.  LYN: I don’t WANT to be able to stay up all night. I also want to be healthy and have a regular sleep schedule, but my previous work just made it so that I am unused to what is “regular”. I don’t know if some of you have parents who’ve worked in some factory? There are usually the morning, afternoon, and night shifts. It’s not like they get a choice, that’s just the way their job works.  C: Cram schools are like this too. LYN: Right. See? Who really WANTS to stay up all night? That’s just the way life is- some jobs require you to stay up all night. Who doesn’t wish for a nice work schedule, and a day off on Saturday and Sunday? When I worked in customer service, there were no such thing as holidays and weekends. So if you’re currently in school and are later able to find a regular job with a M-F workweek, S-S off, and a break for the holidays then you’re very fortunate. 

-- happy new year

- someone comments on his hairline LYN: When I was shooting for The Long Ballad- it was the only time- the makeup artist trimmed away this bit of my hairline, so they would have an easier time gluing the wig on. I thought everyone would have to do it, so I agreed. Later I found out that no one else did it, and all they really had to do was glue the hairline a little lower. Glue it a little lower and then it would make your face look smaller, too. I thought about it and yeah, they were right. It’s grown back a little now, though. But after the stylist cut my hair I had a bunch of product photo shoots, and the collab studio kept looking at the photos we were taking and always thought there was something weird about them. The hairline didn’t look quite right. I thought so too and had my stylist fix try to fix it, but it turned out that no matter how they tried to fix it, it still looked weird.  LYN: That’s what you slowly learn through trial and error. When I was shooting The Long Ballad it was my first guzhuang and I really didn’t know how much an impact the look of a wig would have on one’s appearance. But Hao Du was mostly wearing that hat, so it didn’t really matter where they ended up gluing the wig. After I shot Heroes I finally understood the importance of the wig. When you watch it sometimes you’ll think someone looks ugly in one scene and fine in another. I’m telling you- a large part of it is because of the wig. I’m not joking. It’s so important. LYN: Now I have experience, so I can tell when it needs a better comb. I beg the hairstylist to comb through it and make it look smoother. I’m not like before when I thought nothing of it- just because I didn’t want to cause trouble and have anyone talk about me behind my back. I didn’t know that doing that was a little foolish of me. You need to have requests. I was too careful at the start but if you have requests that are within reason, people have no reason to refuse. I didn’t know that, but now I do. The problem here is that it’s your own problem if you didn’t know and also your own problem if you come out looking ugly when the drama airs; because no one is going to be blaming the hair/makeup stylist. You can only blame yourself for being ugly and having no requests. LYN: I know better now, and can beg the hair/makeup stylists to help me out. I won’t blame them for it- I will say that I myself am ugly and need them to help make me more presentable. 

-- bathroom break #3 (the final stretch)

LYN: I’ll wish everyone a happy new year again. I don’t know how many new years you’ve spent with me now. But I will wish for your growth. LYN: Honestly, how many artists do you know who stay up past 12am to stream? How much do you think I must love streaming?? Tell me how many people can pull it off. Let me tell you, it’s normal for young people nowadays to stay up all night. They sleep pretty late. There are some out there who have only just gotten up. LYN: Who else can sit here and just chat for four hours? I’m even impressed by myself. Not because I’m proud of myself, but because I need to give myself some support so that I can continue to keep doing this. Sometimes you need to give yourself the satisfaction. I’m happy to be able to give my fans a one-of-a-kind experience in chasing stars. Others like to have an air of mystery to them, but not me- I’m really just here to chat. C: My Ning-ge is a real chatterbox. LYN: Friends, please don’t think the the Streamer version of me is the real me. Honestly in real life I don’t talk this much. I have social anxiety. I’m like a lot of you- bold online but small and timid in real life.  C: Are you more of the cold type? LYN: I’m not cold- it’s just that when I don’t smile I don’t look very.. nice. [t/n: he’s got a resting bitch face XD] I’m not a cold person but when I don’t smile I might look it.. I look fake or... not a nice person.  C: Looking for a beating? LYN: Why did you have to go there?? LYN: Anyway, it’s probably because my eyes are small and I have mono-lids, so I look.. not as naive. But people with big eyes and double eyelids look sweet and innocent. My eyes look like they have a story.  C: How about double-eyelid tape then? LYN: Some people are suited for it and some people aren’t. I really tried it, in the past. I was going to shoot a drama and the makeup artist suggested it. I looked scary, so ever since then I never used the tape again. I’m happy as is.

C: Ning-ge, your face is looking a little oily, do you want to wipe it? LYN: No. I’m going for a dewy look. I will use the oil in place of water. So I look shiny and bright.

C: You talked so much that your nasal tone doesn’t sound as heavy. LYN: Actually it’s still there, you’re just used to the sound because you’ve been listening to me all night. 

- since they were on the topic of the sound of his voice, wanted to talk a little about his Cang Lan Jue donghua voice acting as Jiu Yuan, but decided against it. - doesn’t use the posture corrector anymore, and also won’t comment on its effectiveness XD

C: Can we see your sixteen-pack? LYN: Am I Wu Kong? I’ve heard of 6-pack and 8-pack but never 16-pack. What is that? Two people combined?? Honestly, each person’s physique is different. Some people are born with the ability to have 8-packs and some are born with 6. I’m the type with 6- if I were able to even make them appear. It’s just like with wisdom teeth- some are born with 1, some 2, some all 4. C: How many packs do you have now? LYN: How many? No matter how you count, it’s going to be six. It’s just six that you can’t see right now. C: One big pack. LYN: I’m not that bad. Actually, I don’t really have a gut. After I watched UN I swore to myself I wouldn’t have such a “rich” stomach again. I want to maintain my youthful figure. So I was able to get that belly fat away and am working on the abs. You can see them a little but they are not very well defined.  LYN: With abdominal muscles, you will always more or less have them if you’re thin enough. Some people have never worked out, but they’re thin enough so you can see their muscles. I’m not at the point of “thin” so I have to work out. It’s alright. There’s no rush. Wait for the year’s end. You can forget about seeing anything right now. - hasn’t really weighed himself lately, because weight doesn’t really matter. it’s more of a difference of fat vs muscle. - someone says he has been misinformed. LYN: You have to make the effort to understand [any topic]. I only share what I know, what I learned, even though what I say might be wrong. But I did look this up, so let’s not pretend to know about something when you don’t. - discussing the theory of being unafraid because you don’t know how scary the world really is. LYN: Why were people in the past so happy? Because they didn’t have the internet and know what “short videos” are. Because they didn’t know how anyone else was living. The internet is too vast now. People used to be happy making 3k a month. Now even 6k is not enough, because you know how well other people are getting along. People know TOO MUCH now, so they are no longer as happy, comparatively.  - ignorance is bliss. - it’s not good to know nothing, but equally as bad to know everything. :|

- talking about his Ford Mustang, bc the internet will try to trick you into believing that cars under a certain price point are all crap :p - people will sacrifice their legs to look cool driving a sports car XD - if you want to know what it feels like to drive a sports car, sit in a large tub and hold a smaller tub as a steering wheel. LYN: I don’t drive sports cars, but when I have time I will go to the 4S dealership to check them out. I don’t buy anything, I’m just there for the experience. I never test drive because I’m afraid of putting a scratch on the car. But I sit in it and listen to the sound of the engine while I sit in my tub. After I get a bottle of sparkling water I’ll leave. That’s what I usually do when I head back to Beijing. C: Have you been to the 4S in Chengdu? LYN: I haven’t yet, I don’t have the time. There really haven’t been any new models out lately that I want to experience. I heard about the Ferarri SUV, but there’s no test model yet. Later I want to try sitting in it and check it out. - talking about stick shift vs automatic C: I can’t find a tub, so I can’t experience the sports car. LYN: If you can’t find one go buy one. You can look up the sound of the engine of whatever model car you like and play it while you sit in the tub, too. C: My legs are long, a normal tub won’t do. LYN: I’m not talking about the big tubs you use to take a bath, I’m talking about a normal sized one where only your butt fits. Your legs need to stick out so you can step on the pedals! LYN: The seat is shaped like a bucket, and even the seats wrap you in, so that when you make a turn you’re not sliding around everywhere. They’re designed so that you can’t move, so that you stay in your seat. It wouldn’t be good if you made a turn and flew into the passenger’s seat. You’d be done for. C: People who are too fat can’t drive a sports car then, huh? LYN: It doesn’t matter. I don’t think it does. As long as you want to drive it, you will find a way to. C: Can the seats be customized? LYN: Do you think I work in a showroom?? Are you trying to commission a car from me? I don’t work in a dealership but I can tell you that nearly everything that goes into a luxury vehicle you can customize including color, seating, fabric, texture, even the STITCHING. If you bought a 5M sports car and wanted them to install a bucket for a seat, they’d do it for you. Whether you actually sit in it is your own business.  -- LYN: I used to have a friend who was able to drive all sorts of cars. I was chatting to him about which cars were good and when we got to Lamborghini-s he said they were just ok. Such a cool car! What was wrong with it? They don’t have air conditioning, and for the models that do they don’t work well. I guess that is a problem... but if you’re driving a Lambo are you going to care about whether the weather is hot or not?? That’s a prime opportunity to roll the windows down. C: You really don’t care? LYN: I don’t know about you, but if it were me I really wouldn’t care. If it were hot I could roll the window down and rest my arm on the door. Wouldn’t that be cool? C: Makeup’s ruined. // Wig will go flying. LYN: LOL. LYN: I’m not trying to purposely diss Lamborghini or anything, that’s just what I was told. Maybe my friend’s AC was broken.

LYN: When’s the next time I’ll stream? I don’t even know exactly. So that’s all the more reason to subscribe to my weibo and it will notify you the next time I stream. LYN: Thank you all for coming to watch my stream, even if it was just for a short while. Thank you for your support and company. Thank you Weibo, for your support and the fans for the trending topic. LYN: I want to wish everyone a wonderful and relaxing night. It was great to have you.  I’ll see you the next time~ Good night!

[andiinaraethtash]

Chapter 15: Well, You Look Like Yourself (But You're Somebody Else)

Notes:

TW: Fallout from betrayal, and that pesky demon, who is his own warning. Chapter title from Somebody Else by Flora Cash

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Joel’s day has been rotten from the start, and he’d like everyone to know that. First, there were multiple raids all over the place that he had to fight off, first in Mezalia, then in the Ocean Empire, then finally in Mythland. Then, Pearl turned on them for no reason, and killed him, sending him back to Mezalia, and when he got back to Mythland, he found that everyone had left without waiting for him.

It takes him the rest of the night to get to Rivendell, where Katherine had told Sir Carlos they were going, and it’s so bitterly cold there, he immediately wishes he was back home.

The others are all waiting for him outside Scott’s house, all of them except Jimmy. With the exception of Sausage, none of them are really dressed for the current conditions, and thus are all huddled next to the large building, trying to absorb whatever meagre warmth the building provided.

He lands, nearly slips on ice, and recovers as quickly as he can. “What’s up, guys, why are we all outside?”

Shrub makes a face that’s somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “We’re waiting to see if Jimmy’s got through to Scott. We think he has, it’s stopped storming, but they’ve not answered the few times we’ve kno—”

She’s interrupted by the ice over the doorway thawing out, like someone had just placed a bucketful of lava next to it. Expectantly, they all turn, and Scott, who’s standing in the doorway, hunches in on himself, like he’s trying to hide.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and steps aside.

Jimmy’s standing right behind him, and, with a quick glare in Sausage’s direction, gestures for them to come in.

It’s almost as cold inside as it is outside, the only real difference being the lack of wind. There’s frost covering every surface, snow piled up in the corners, and icicles hanging from the rafters. It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so unnatural.

Joel stomps his feet and rubs his hands together in an effort to warm up slightly. Pix and Joey at the small stove, firing it up so it can start warming up the room, while Katherine and Shrub are at Scott’s side, talking to him in an undertone. Meanwhile, Lizzie is checking over Jimmy, and Joel almost chuckles to hear her tutting over a cut on his cheekbone.

Almost. It’s another sign that something bad happened while he was on his way here, and it rubs at him wrong that Lizzie’s the only one fussing over him. Usually Scott would be right there beside him, but…

Joel actually takes a moment to look at the elf king, and raises an eyebrow at what he sees. Scott is curled inwards, shoulders tense and hands shaking visibly even from across the room. He keeps sending glances around at all of them, like he’s afraid of them—and he probably is. He’s been betrayed too many times for him to be comfortable letting them in close.

He’s about to collapse into the nearest chair when he realises he hasn’t accounted for someone. Looking around, he spots Sausage at the front door, looking longingly back the way they’d come, like he’s thinking of home—or of Pearl.

(Honestly, with fWhip and Gem gone, Pearl had been the closest thing to home Sausage had, aside from Mythland itself.)

With a heavy sigh, Joel sinks down into the chair next to him and waves Sausage over. It takes a moment for the other man to notice, and even when he does, he just stares at Joel like he doesn’t understand what he’s asking him to do.

Finally, Joel gives up on waving him over and just outright calls, “Sausage, get in here, you’re letting all the warm air out.”

Sausage looks down at the pieces of wood littering the ground, then back up, and Joel realises those are what remains of the door.

Feeling marginally stupid, he sighs again. “Just get over here. It’s warmer inside.”

Sausage glances at Scott, then at Jimmy, who’s pointedly ignoring him, then reluctantly comes over. He picks a chair and sits, but doesn’t say anything, which is just… unusual. Unnatural. Weird. But Joel’s not one to press, so he lets it be.

Jimmy and Lizzie disappear upstairs, then come back down a minute later with a thick woolen blanket, which they pin to the door frame. Immediately the lodge gets a bit warmer. With a groan of relief, Joel slumps over in his seat.

”What are we going to do now?” Shrub asks softly, looking up at Scott, who just shrugs hopelessly.

Instead, Jimmy answers. “We, erm, we should probably do something to stop the ritual Xornoth’s planning. He’s got a lot of stuff, but we don’t know what all he needs. If there’s anything else, we have to stop him from getting it.”

“Easier said than done,” Pix says. “Do we have any idea what the ritual calls for, Scott, Sausage?”

Sausage shakes his head, but Scott nods, pursing his lips. “He needs a focusing item, an item that represents the entity he’s trying to summon, and something to anchor it. In the past, people have used blood as an anchor, but usually their own blood. Anchoring it to us… would mean that as long as all of us are alive, Exor will be able to remain here, and since we’re all land-bonded…”

Lizzie hisses, and Joel grabs her hand on instinct. “What about the other items?”

“Well, the item that represents Exor could be anything, but if I had to guess, he’d just use something easy to obtain, like a corrupted vine. As for the focusing item… I don’t know. It’d have to be magically quite strong in order to work, and even stronger physically to tolerate that kind of power for as long as Xornoth’s going to need it to.”

For the first time, Sausage speaks. “Something like the dragon egg?”

Jimmy sends him a caustic glare, before turning to Scott, his expression only softening marginally. Joel isn’t sure why he’s acting the way he is, but it’s disconcerting, to say the least.

Scott is nodding, though, which is bad, because if the egg can be used, then Xornoth has everything he needs to do the ritual.

Which begs the question, why hasn’t he done it yet?

Joel asks as much aloud, and Katherine pipes up. “Well, the decree said we had to give him our blood before the new moon, so maybe it can only be done then?”

Immediately, Shrub is grimacing. “Guys, the new moon is only five days away. We don’t have much time to come up with a plan.”

Joel groans. “Gods, I wish we could just ignore it and it’d go away.”

Joey huffs. “Not all of us have had that option.”

Sausage nods, and Joel levels them both a flat glare. “I never said I had done that.”

“But you did,” Joey fires back. “You pretended Xornoth was a figment of our imagination for months up until he killed fWhip, while the rest of us were actually dealing with him!”

“Yeah, by joining him,” Joel says with a scoff, and Joey and Sausage both reel back like they’ve been struck.

“Joel, Joey, be nice,” Jimmy says, and Joel just glares at him.

“What, like you’re playing nice with Scott and Sausage?”

Jimmy looks offended. “I have actual cause to—they thought I was the one to betray them! After everything, after how hard I fought him, they thought I would be the one to sell them out!”

Joel raises an eyebrow, but neither Scott nor Sausage deny it. Instead, they both hang their heads.

“I’m sorry,” Scott mutters. “I know that doesn’t make up for it, but I am. I just… the way Xornoth was singling you out, I thought—and since that was the worst-case scenario, I—I guess I assumed the worst.”

Sausage nods. “Losing you would have been a heavy blow to all of us. I mean, the Codfather Alliance follows you, and you’re one of my closest friends, and Pearl…” He cuts himself off, sounding choked, and Shrub reaches over to squeeze his hand.

Joel honestly hadn’t noticed anything that indicated that they had thought that, but they must have as they aren’t denying it. Still, he’s deflated a good deal since Jimmy had his outburst, now that he understands.

Behind his chair, Lizzie shifts uncomfortably. “The bad thing is, Pearl knows how we think, she knows how we’re going to react, especially Sausage. She’s going to sabotage us.”

Sausage’s head snaps up. “She wouldn’t. I told you, she’s working an angle, she’s got a plan—”

“A plan that involves her killing us?” Joel asks, because he can’t imagine why Sausage is defending her. His throat is still stinging from being slashed open.

Now, Sausage is glaring at him. “She would never do that unless she had a plan.”

“Sausage,” Scott says tiredly, softly, like even he doesn’t want to admit what he’s about to say. “How would she have convinced Xornoth she’s on his side?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then freezes. It takes several seconds and Shrub shaking his shoulder to get him to respond. “I—I don’t—but she can’t have betrayed us. She’s all I’ve got left.”

Surprisingly, Joel actually tears up a bit at the raw despair in Sausage’s voice. He quickly dashes the tears away, but not before Jimmy notices. He mouths a quick, ‘you okay?’ at Joel, and Joel nods, then turns back to Sausage.

“Look, mate, I’d love to believe that she’s got some sort of plan, too, but we need to be realistic, or at the very least, we need to prepare for the worst. And in this case, the worst is that Pearl actually did betray us, and she knows what we’re going to do next, and she’s going to help Xornoth stop us.”

Sausage wilts. There’s no other way to describe it, he just crumples, head bowing and shoulders drooping, face screwing up like he’s trying hard not to cry.

No one says anything for a long moment, waiting for Sausage to regain his composure, before finally Joey, who’d been fairly quiet for the last few minutes, reaches out and squeezes Sausage’s shoulder.

“I know,” He whispers, “I know it hurts, when they betray you like this, but you will survive, and give them back the hell they gave you.”

“I don’t want to give Pearl hell,” Sausage says, head in his hands. “I just want her back.”

Pix sighs, crossing his arms. “Sadly, the probability of that happening is low, and we all know it. Even you, Sausage.”

Sausage scrubs his face wearily, then nods, straightening. “Okay, then what’s our next move?” He still sounds tired as he asks it, but it’s a good question.

One that none of them have answers for.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy suggests, “How about we split up into teams of three and check on the empires that were raided? We need to assess the damage.”

They nod, and Joel turns to Lizzie. “M’Lady?”

She forces a smile and nods. “Let’s go.”

_______

When he opens his eyes, it’s with a sigh of relief, because he’s actually the one opening them. He makes a conscious effort to blink, then crane his neck so he can look around, afraid his body won’t respond, but, no, he stays in control.

Idly, fWhip mentally tries to connect with his “roommate,” but there’s no answer. He just gets a faint impression of cold and the demon nursing his wounds before it fades.

Well, that’s a relief. Seems Scott was able to wound him, and fWhip can’t say he’s mad about it, especially if it results in him finally being back in control.

He pushes himself to his feet and almost immediately has to sit back down, because wow, he was not expecting a headrush that intense. Taking a steadying breath, he manages to get a good look at his surroundings, and is mildly surprised to find himself in his study.

He’d kind of blacked out as soon as the ice found its way from Scott’s hands to his veins, so waking up here is… not necessarily surprising, but unexpected. He’d have thought he’d be somewhere a little less… accessible. Anyone could walk in, though why anyone would intentionally seek him out is anyone’s guess.

Still, he takes in the room, the ruined parchments across the desk soaked in ink and tattered from one of Xornoth’s fits of rage, the piles of books strewn haphazardly across the floor, and worst of all, the creeping vines of corruption that covered the outside of the windows.

Closing his eyes, he releases the breath he’d been holding and tries not to sob. What has he done? This is all his fault, he’s not strong enough to fight off Xornoth, what is he supposed to do?

Setting his head in his hands, he maybe, maybe lets a few tears spill out, but quickly composes himself. No. No, he may not be strong enough to fight off the demon, but he’s got a chance now to do some damage, and he’s going to grab it with both hands and run.

This time, he stands more slowly, hands braced against the desk just in case, but the headrush isn’t as bad as it had been. Quickly, he scrounges for a piece of parchment that hasn’t been ruined. It takes a minute, but he finds one, and quickly starts scrawling down coordinates. His handwriting is sloppier than usual, which he chalks up to the rush he’s feeling and not the way his hands are shaking because what if Xornoth comes back before he can get this to Pearl, what if they find out what he’s planning, if, if, if…

He hates that word.

As soon as the ink is no longer tacky, he rolls the parchment up and hurries out of the room. He’s dizzy, and feels weak and like he’s barely in control of his body, but he pinches himself and he feels it, and he knows that right now, this is his body, not Xornoth’s, no matter how disconnected he feels.

It takes him time—precious time he might not have—to find anyone, but when he does, it’s exactly the person he was hoping for.

“Pearl,” he sighs with relief, and she stiffens.

She’s staring at the two chairs in the throne room, her back to him, and she stiffens the moment she hears his voice.

(It’s weird, hearing his own, non-garbled voice coming from his mouth, and weirder still that his mouth wants to give the words an elvish accent. But it’s his voice, and Pearl still stiffens.)

“Xornoth,” she says evenly, still not turning around, and fWhip wonders what he looks like if she really can’t stand the sight of him.

Still, he flinches at the sound of the demon’s name. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear that name again without feeling that pit in his stomach. “Not Xornoth. It’s me.”

Pearl scoffs. “Like I’ll fall for that. You’ve pulled enough tricks that I know I can’t trust a word you say.”

“Pearl, please, just listen to me—”

“Stop!” She shouts, finally turning around, and he’s startled to see tears in her eyes. “Stop using his voice, stop using him—take me if you have to, but—just stop, you monster!”

This time, he bows his head at the words, tears in his own eyes, because even though she thinks she’s talking to Xornoth, he’s the one hearing the words, and he’s the one taking them to heart. He clenches his fists, and the crinkle of parchment suddenly reminds him of why he’s here.

“Mythland and the Crystal Cliffs.”

That stops Pearl in her tracks. “What?”

He straightens, looking her in the eye, and is surprised to see shock flitting across her features. “Mythland and the Crystal Cliffs. That’s where he’s rigged to blow. But you’re going to have to be careful, it’s rigged with end crystals, not TNT, so disarming it is going to be tricky, but if you—”

He’s cut off by Pearl tackling him in a hug, and all at once, he’s aware of every part of his body, and every part of him aches. He rests his head against her shoulder, letting himself one, maybe two quick sobs, before he’s pushing her away enough to hand her the parchment.

“Coordinates,” he explains at her confused look. “They’re all connected, so I just gave you the rough coordinates I could remember. You just need to find one, then follow the redstone to the next, and so on.”

Pearl nods as she unfurls the scroll, then frowns. “What are these?” She asks, pointing to a third set of coordinates. “That’s not in the Crystal Cliffs or in Mythland.”

fWhip shakes his head. “Nether coordinates. Go there last. I’ll meet you there if I can, but disarm the bombs first.”

She nods again, pulls him in for a quick hug, then picks up her sword and scabbard from where they’d been resting against the wall and strides toward the door. There, she hesitates, and he waves her on, hoping his seriousness spurs her on. It must, because she turns and leaves, and he’s left alone.

As soon as the door is closed, he’s turning away and sinking to his knees. He covers his face with his hands, and just sits there for a moment, debating what to do next.

Well, the most obvious thing is to sabotage Xornoth more, but the best way he can think of doing that is by destroying the phials of blood they’d just taken from the other rulers. The only problem is that he’s not sure where they would have stored it.

It’d probably be best to retrace Xornoth’s steps. He’d have had to have stored it somewhere between where they teleported back and the study, where he woke up. Cursing himself for not thinking to ask Pearl where they’d landed, he straightens and heads back to the study.

He’s worn out by the time he reaches it, but the moment he does, he spots something that should make things a lot easier: an ender chest. Of course they’d store it in there, he realises. No better place, after all, seeing as no one else could open it up and see the same contents that Xornoth did.

Quickly fWhip hurries over and presses down on the latch, waits a beat, then flings the top open, but he’s immediately disappointed, because honestly he should have anticipated that. Of course the chest would have different contents if it was him versus Xornoth.

Frustrated, he slams the chest shut, and paces over to the window, where he’s startled to see how much the landscape has changed. It’s more jagged than the mesa that makes up Joel’s kingdom, and utterly ruined besides. What had been dry plains are now canyons filled with eerie red fog, and there’s no way he can think of of healing the land.

Gods above and below, what has he done? What people have survived Xornoth’s reign must have sworn never to return, and after seeing the destruction wrought by his own hand, he can see why.

Another thought strikes him, and he half-way turns around, only to remember that Xornoth put the crown in the ender chest as well, so there’s no way he can retrieve that and pass it on to someone more worthy.

If there’s anything else he can do, he can’t think of it. He lets his shoulders slump, and he turns back to the window, only to physically recoil as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. It takes a beat for his heart to settle, but the moment it does, he leans forward, determined to get a better look at himself.

He’d been pointedly ignoring the flashes of blackened skin that peeked out between his gloves and his coat sleeves, but now, now it’s impossible to ignore the fact that his entire body looks like a piece of coal, occasional pulses of crimson flashing through his veins. He’s got horns, large and unwieldy that he’s somehow forgotten about, protruding from his forehead. And of course, he’s got the crimson corruption practically growing on him, like he’s a walking fungus or something.

But in the midst of all that, blue eyes are shining out from the face he barely recognizes. His blue eyes. There’s a bit of red starting to creep into the irises, but for right now they’re his. He’s in control, and he’s going to savour the feeling of voluntarily taking a breath and actually feeling it fill his lungs.

On a sudden impulse, he decides he’s going to go see Gem, let her know that he’s okay, that he is still holding on, still fighting, but before he can turn around, his muscles lock up, and he catches a glimpse of glowing red eyes before a familiar voice is echoing in his mind.

“And what do you think you’re up to?”

Notes:

Dun-dun-dun!

[sadeswrites]

Out for Smokes

Commission Story for moikheck on Instagram/Twitter

Heavy flakes of snow momentarily stuck to the living room window before melting against the warm glass. Josh barely paid them any attention as he sat on the couch. All light had been extinguished except for the sole lamp seated on the end table next to him. He was deep into rereading the third book in his favorite series, and not even the sounds of the furnace blasting could draw his attention away. He couldn’t stay up much longer, as it was a school night, but he allowed himself one last chapter.

Footsteps broke the unseen tension in the room, created by loud boots connecting with the old wood frame of the staircase to the second floor. Tom appeared from the entryway, layered under thick winter clothing. He reached into the coat closet beneath the stairs, stirring up enough noise to finally break Josh’s focus.

“Here, Josh, take this.” Tom lobbed the coat his way, which covered the book in his hands.

“What? Why?”

“I’ve gotta head to the gas station real quick for a pack of cigs, and Mom said to take you with.”

An exasperated sigh left his lungs. “I’m good. Mom says your smoking is a bad habit, and I don’t want to go. I’m almost done with this chapter.”

“I understand, but I don’t think she’ll like that answer.”

“Is she having an episode again?”

“Yeah.”

“You could have led with that.”

Josh carefully set the book down, doing his best to remember the page he’d left on, and slipped effortlessly into the coat. Then he threw on some sandals and joined Tom out the front door.

The biting wind immediately hit him. It whistled across the yard and through the pine trees that lined the road, carrying with it a sizable amount of snow. The pathway to Tom’s rusting red truck was buried under six inches of the stuff.

“Hold on, I need to get different shoes.”

“Jesus, Josh. Come on.”

He stepped inside, threw on a pair of boots much larger than his own feet, and rejoined his older brother. Together, they made it to the sputtering vehicle, and he reached for the passenger door.

“Absolutely not,” Tom said. “Backseat.”

“But Mom lets me sit—”

“But I’m not Mom, and right now, you’re my responsibility. Backseat.”

Josh did as instructed, taking his spot in the back passenger seat. His brother turned the key in the bucket of rust, which struggled to start. He seemed more frustrated than usual, but Josh knew better than to prod about it. Things had been rough lately.

“Is it going to be safe to drive in this weather?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. The truck has driven through worse. We’ll just need to take it real slow. Our five minute trip to the gas station will probably actually be ten.”

“Ten minutes? I should’ve brought my book.”

“Play with the toys back there, then.”

“These are baby toys. I’m too old for them. I haven’t played with these in years.”

“Then don’t. I don’t care.”

The words hung in the air for a while as he slowly backed out of the driveway, making sure that there weren’t any other cars dumb enough to be out in the blizzard.

“Sorry, bub. I don’t mean that. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“I know.”

“How was school today?”

“It was alright. Today was the book fair.”

“Did you get anything?”

“No. I haven’t gotten my allowance in a month.”

“Oh. Sorry. I spaced it. Is there another book fair day?”

“Yeah, they’re still doing it tomorrow, but all the smelly pencils are gone.”

“Remind me when we get home. I’ll get you your allowance.”

The road, which was already buried under snow and in abysmal condition, was made worse by the impossibly low visibility threatening to run them off course. He pounded the dashboard once or twice when the engine made some weird noises, but they remained quiet for a few minutes until his headlights dimmed.

“No! Come on!”

He pounded his horn and carefully worked the brakes, bringing the truck to a full break right as it died.

“What happened?”

Instead of answering, his brother buried his head in his hands. He remained motionless for a long time, and Josh thought he could hear a sniffle. Only when the threat of the cold leaking into the vehicle greeted their skin did he pull his head away.“It’s alright. The battery died is all. We have a jumping kit back home, so I’m gonna go grab that. Stay bundled. I won’t be long.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just have a long run ahead. Give me fifteen minutes. Do not leave the car for any reason.”

“Okay.”

His brother quickly opened and slammed the door shut and immediately ran in the opposite direction, leaving Josh in the silence of the dead truck with nothing to do but think and shiver. It was essentially pitch black outside except for the snow caking against his window. As the cold encroached, he slipped his arms out of the sleeves of his coat and against his chest, trying to conserve the heat.

Sixteen minutes of sitting in the cold, thinking about the cold, and ultimately wanting to not be cold passed before his brother appeared at the truck, opened the driver side door, popped the hood, and set up the jumping kit, which had its own heavy battery. Then he came back inside the truck while the device charged up.

“Did you happen to grab my book?” Josh asked.

“I was a little preoccupied trying to make sure you didn’t freeze to death out here. So no, I didn’t grab your book.”

The cold, which he’d now become accustomed to, had infiltrated the entire vehicle, clinging to his cheeks and nose. Waiting for the truck to start was excruciating, made more so by the fact that it took three tries and ten total minutes to get it restarted. The heat returning was more than welcome, and he pressed his hands to the vents as Tom went to retrieve the jumping kit.

“Okay. We’re good to go now. Just a quick trip. We’re almost there.”

“I’m getting tired.”“I know, dude. We’re almost there. Then you can go to bed, alright?”

After a little slipping on the road, he got the truck moving again, and slowly the lights of the town outskirts appeared in view, dim at first against the torrent of snow. Josh watched the buildings crawl by, all with lights and signs mostly off. There still wasn’t a single other car on the road.

Tom slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What?”

“They’d better be open right now. They have to be.”

They pulled into the parking lot right out front, and Josh watched as his brother strained hopelessly against the glass doors of the gas station. They didn’t budge. He kicked the brick wall, turned, opened his truck door, got in, and slammed it shut before resting his head on the wheel.

Finally, he let out a cry. It started low at first, but before long, he was sobbing. Josh didn’t know what to do, so he sat there as his older brother let out his emotions.

When it didn’t stop a minute or two in, Josh finally spoke up. “Is everything okay, Tom?”

His brother looked up, eyes puffy. “No, bub. Everything’s not okay. It’s Mom. She...” He coughed and wiped his nose.

“Did it happen?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it happened. She, uh... was having another one of her episodes. It was a long one. And then she looked at me. Looked at me. Do you remember the last time she was able to do that? And she smiled. And that was it. That was... she was... she’s gone now.”

His brother’s voice shook, and Josh didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he did know what his brother meant.“Is she safe now?”

“Yeah, buddy. She’s safe. No more seizures. No more episodes. No more pain. I didn’t want you to see her while I was going out for smokes. That’s why I made you come with. Sorry it was a waste of time. It’s your bedtime. Let’s get you home.”

“Okay.”

Tom threw the truck in reverse, and at the same speed they’d arrived, he scooted through the town. It all felt a lot darker. A lot colder. Once they’d hit the tree line that bordered the town, the feelings only magnified.

“Did Mom love us?”

“Yeah, she does—she did. Why?”

“Because she wasn’t very nice.”

His older brother looked at him through the rear-view mirror. “I know. Especially the past couple of weeks. But she did. She loved us as much as a mother could. She wasn’t trying to be mean. I don’t try to either. It’s just... there’s been a lot going on since Mom started having her episodes, and I’m doing my best. I’m sorry I haven’t been good to you. You don’t deserve it.”

“Okay.”

The trees abruptly reached their end, bringing them to the field near their house. In the spring, there were always corn or beans, and he remembered watching the crop duster planes fly by, spraying manure all over. The house stank for a week after, and it drove his mom nuts. Then fall and winter came, and the crops were always gone. One year, there was a section that hadn’t gotten harvested, and the corn froze and withered away.

“Did Dad love us?”

At first, his brother didn’t respond, and continued on to the house, which they were surely almost to by now. If only he could see anything out the window, he might be able to tell exactly where they were.

“Tom?”

“I know. I heard you. You know how Mom had issues?”

“Her episodes?”

“Yeah. Well, Dad had his own type of episodes. Except in his episodes, he was really mean. More than Mom. He hurt us. He hurt her, and he hurt you, and he hurt me.”

“What did we do?”

“Nothing. Especially you. You were too young. But he was a mean person.”

“What happened to him?”

“One day, during one of his episodes, he was being mean to you again. He was hurting you. And I got in the way, and I stopped him.”

“And then what?”

“That’s it. Now he can’t hurt you again. I kept you safe. I took care of it. Took care of you.”

“Okay.”

Finally, the house was in sight, and as they pulled into the driveway, Tom sat with the truck on, staring at the garage door. It was impossible for Josh to figure out what was going on in his head.

“Do you want to go see her?”

Josh thought about it for a moment. “Yeah.”

Tom turned the truck off, and they hopped out at the same time. Josh did his best to step in the spots where footprints had already flattened the snow, but still got some in his boots.

When they got inside, he took them off, dusted the snow from his feet, and then removed his coat. Tom led the way up the stairs, taking them slowly and softly. Josh was tired of slow and opted to run up them alongside and past his brother.

His mom’s room was all the way at the end of the upstairs hallway. Tom flipped the hall light on, and they approached the closed door.

He looked up at his older brother. “Is it scary in there?”

“I’m not sure, bub. Do you want to hold my hand?”

He answered by taking the outstretched hand, and together they pushed the door open. His mom was laying in bed, eyes closed. The machine next to her, which was usually beeping steadily, was now silent, its screen off. The tube that was wrapped around her mouth had remained.

As he approached his mom, he could feel tears coming. She was in a better place. A safe place, like Tom had said. She wouldn’t be in pain any longer. But he was still sad. He loved his mom.

Tom came up from behind and rubbed his back as he held his mom’s hand. It was cold, the way he felt when sitting in the truck all alone, waiting for his brother to get it restarted.

Maybe that’s what cold was: death. Cold kills the corn in the fields outside. Cold froze the air in his lungs while sitting in the truck. Cold even killed the truck battery. And now his mom was cold, and she would never wake up.

He stood by her side, crying for a long while. Tom sat down in the chair next to her bed and let out a shaky sigh. “I need to go make a call, buddy. After that, it’s going to be bedtime. You’ve gotta go to school tomorrow so you can get something at the book fair.”He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, revealing a twenty and handing it to his younger brother. Then he stood up and left the room. Josh heard him talking to somebody, telling them his name and where they lived, and talking about their mom.

That’s when he noticed the cord of the machine wasn’t in the wall where it was supposed to be. He looped around the bed and plugged it back in. The machine beeped loudly in one long tone and flashed some warnings. His eyes moved to his mom’s, and he watched, hoping somehow they would open back up.

Tom reentered the room, phone down at his side. “Okay, Josh, time for bed now.”

“It didn’t work.”

“It’s alright. I’ll take care of it with the ambulance drivers. Go brush your teeth and get your pj’s on.”

“What do we do now?”

His older brother got down next to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “We’ll be okay. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll take care of you, just like I always have. But right now, I need you to go get around for bed. We’ll talk more after school.”

He ushered Josh out of the room and carefully closed the door behind them. The younger brother did as told, going through his routine, trying not to think too much about his mom in the other room. He said goodnight to his brother, who was pacing cross-armed down by the front door with his last cigarette in hand, and retreated to bed. He was still more than awake when the paramedics arrived half an hour later, but opted not to get out of bed to see them take his mom to the ambulance. A few minutes after that, Tom knocked on his door and cracked it open.

“Still up?”

“Yeah.”“No worries. I’m gonna struggle to sleep tonight, too. Here, I brought your book, in case you can’t get any rest. If you need something—anything—you can come knock on my door. I’ll be sleeping in my room tonight.”

“Okay.”

Before his brother could close the door again, he quickly called out to him.

“What’s up, Josh?”

“I love you, Tom.”

His brother smiled softly at him. “I love you too, bub.”