#also everyone now and then a dice sound plays and i have no idea why

[telemartus]

have started listening to malevolent podcast. on ep like 4. Current theory is mr voice in arthur's head is big eldritch thingamabob the cult is in to and every time Arthur kills someone he gets more control (arthur's partner, eddie). Have no idea if Mr Voice will end up being cool and besties with Arthur but i hope so bc i love Venom From Marvel Comiques

[obey-me-disaster]

-Proposing to-

Leviathan x gn!MC

A/N: This is part 3 of the series 'Proposing To'

I would like to say a special thank you to threadtheocracy on twitter /@thread-theocracy on tumblr for letting me use their ideas for the brothers from their DnD AU. You should definetely check them out.

Also another special thank you to my DM cause the setting of the DnD campaign and the NPCs were made by him ^-^.

Also, anything between ‘ ’ is when a character in the campaign talks.

"Do you remember what we have talked about?" You said facing six out of the seven brothers.

"Yes, we all have of our characters sheets and everyone has their own set of dice. But are you sure this will work? I've never really played DnD but I know quests can get quite side tracked" Satan couldn't help but raise his concerns, and he wasn't entirely wrong either. While the brothers were on the plan, the story could still take another route, but you were the one that decided to propose to Levi, the only brother missing from the table at the moment, through a DnD game.

Once you got this idea into your head you couldn't get it out. You had to ask the brothers to play in the campai cause DnD session with only one person playing the story...wasn't bound to be any good. You stayed up late coming up with both a story and character sheets for the brothers so that the campaign can be good, but you couldn't help but feel nervous.

What if the story goes into other direction? Do you just continue through multiple sessions until you reach the point where you propose? Do you give up? Change the point of the story where you propose? Negative thoughts started to cloud your mind, making you doubt yourself and your plan, but those didn't last long once you felt someone pat your back. "Don't ya worry about anything! We're gonna be on our best behaviour tonight!" With a moment to calm yourself gained some of your confidence back and just in time as you heard a knock on the door.

"Um, MC? You told me to come here for a surprise, can I open the door?" You nearly tripped over your own feet trying to get to the door, ignoring the snickering coming from the other brothers. Checking yourself once more you opened the door. "You came just in time, take a place on that empty chair over there".

As Levi made his way into the room he couldn't help but notice the character sheets, the different types of dices and some maps sitting on the table. "Don't tell me...ARE WE REALLY GOING TO PLAY DND?! This isn't a prank isn't it? My self esteem couldn't handle that after just getting a bad ending in Mystical Messenger!!" After handing him his own character sheet you were fast to reasure him. "It's neither a dream not a prank, I've decided to make a little surprise for you. Tho this will be only a one-shot and not a full blown campaign"

The last part seemed to fall on deaf ears as Levi was reading his character sheet. "You made me a warlock with the fathomless pact?! HOW- How did you even know I wanted to be that?! MC you're the best Henry I could ever ask for!"

"Soon they'll be more than that" Satan slapped Mammon across the head. "Don't listen to this moron. Do you want to check our characters too before the session?" Hearing that Levi snapped his head towards the forth born. "You didn't even have to ask, of course I want to seem them."

The only sounds that could be heard after everyone handed their character sheets to Levi, were him muttering about something or nodding. "Ok so from my understand Lucifer is an oathbreaker paladin, Mammon is a wild card rogue, Satan is a ranger, to be precise a beast master conclave with a bunch of cats...why am I not surprised." Switching between papers he continues reading "Asmo is a bard, LMAO of course he is a bard. Beelzebub is a beast barbarian and Belphegor is a druid of the dream circle....huh, not totally surprised but I thought he would be a druid of the star circle."

After reading the last of the character sheets he hands them back to each brother. "Now that everyone has their characters back, WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR!? Let's get the session started" And with him saying that, it was your cue to start.

"Ok everyone, pay close attention for the story is about to start." Making sure everyone was paying attention you felt ready to start the story "Your party is here for a common goal, to find the cave of All Treasures. The cave is said to give one thing a person may need or want, no matter how expensive, rare or even dangerous it may be. Each one of you has one thing they desire the most so you got together, a group of strangers, minus Belphie and Beel who actually know eachother-"

"Of course they know each other, you can't really separate can you?" Both Satan and Levi turned towards Asmo, with sour expressions on their faces. "Asmo please shut up-" "Yeah shut up! I am trying to listen to MC." The third born turned towards you with a look you only see when he is playing his favourite games ot watching his favourite animes. "Please go on with the story".

"-anyway...The thing that everyone wants the most is written on your character sheets. Please keep it to yourself for now." Taking out a map of the world the session is taking place in you pointed different places of importance on it." You are currently in Be'heel, but you need to get to Bellanova where the cave is rumored to be, but to get there you need a ship. Currently your group is in the port trying to find one. What are your characters doing?"

All the brothers are in deep thought, some of them looking like a child lost on a random street, it kind of reminds you of your first dnd session. Finally Levi seemed to get an idea. "Can I roll for perception? That way I might find a good ship". Handing him his set of dices you let him roll. "And it's a 13, not bad Levi! Your character sees a lot of expensive ships that you might not be able to afford, but just as you were about to give up you noticed a pirate ship. It seemed to stay afloat with the power of black magic, hope and duct tape"

"Ya know, a pirate ship ain't seem like a bad idea, we might get some treasure too!" Mammon looked really proud of his reasoning. "Is treasure all you think about? But I guess at least checking out that ship doesn't sound like a bad idea. My character picks up his cats and heads towards the suspicious ship". After making sure everyone was on the same page you continued to narrate the campaign.

"As everyone makes their way towards the ship, you see a guy coordinating people on carrying stuff. Do you want talk with him?" Everyone looks at each other before giving you a nod. "I will do the talking! No man can resist my charm~" Asmo winked at you as if you were the pirate he was about to try and charm. "Hey! No winking towards my Henry!" Levi looked like he wanted to grab you and hold far away from his brother .

"No need to fight guys! Asmo, you can try talking with him, and since you are new to this I will give you an advice, please roll arcana or perception first, believe me, you'll need it." Asmo looked between the dices confused before you just handed him the right one.

"And you rolled, 20! Holy shit, do you have a plus on your perception?" Everyone turned their attention to Asmo, some knowing what rolling a 20 ment while others just looking confused. "Hmmm, I think I have a +3? What does that mean?" Asmo gave you his character sheet in order for you to check it out. "Yeah it's a +3, and that's wonderfull news! With a roll of 23 you are able to sense he is no ordinary person, he seems to have some higher power to him, a person not make your enemy. Now that you are aware of all of this, Asmo you can make your move"

The avatar of lust looks through his character sheet confused, before just putting them away "This is too confusing, since this is role play I will just do it the old fashioned way~" Clearing his throat he leans in towards you. 'You got a pretty nice ship over there, just perfect to also take me and my group to a little place called Bellanova right?' Pretty satisfied with his introduction you turned towards the others "Do any of you want to add anything else?".

Levi takes a deep breath before taking one of the dices "Can I roll for persuasion? We still need to find out who this pirate is, and I am not about to make the same mistake as that one backround character from One Slice!" Seeing him get some courage made you happy, it was a sign that the whole proposal plan has big chances to work. You were a bit afraid that the other brothers will take the lead and not let him actually shine. "Of course! While you roll you can think of what you want to say"

Taking the dice he roll and lands on a...19! "I also have a +1 so that makes it a 20! Can't believe I actually got so much.." The avatar of envy looked a bit in disbelief. "Anyway! I turn towards the character and say 'Sorry for my friends bold approach, my group is searching for a way to get to Bellanova and we wondered if we could board on your ship in case you go there? Can we also get you name?'" Levi seemed to really get into his role of an adventurer but that was to be expected, he always did better when it came to playing the role of a character he liked.

Deciding that was enough for the character to be receptive you chose to make their game easier. "The pirate seems to take into consideration what you have just told him. His hight is average, he's lean and athletic with piercing blue eyes and has medium long hair that looks meticulously messy with jade beads in it. 'The name is Jean, and it seems you guys got pretty lucky. My crew is just about to head towards Bellanova. We also got more free space than usal since some people of our normal crew are in a mission in Brennux so you are welcome to join us on our ship, Lady Fortuna's Lament' "

Seeing as they got a ship some of the brothers high fived between each other. "Good job Levi, ya got us on the ship!" Mammon ruffled Levi's hair.

After you let their characters explore the ship, interact with the NPCs and find out more about the NPCs that were away. And to Asmo's dismay, Jean was taken by one of the NPCs that was away, and seducing him didn't work either. You've even decide to give them a fight agaisnt a sea monster in order to take advantage of Levi's character. And just as he planned he finally summoned his pact. You made sure that instead of tentacles to use one of Lotan's head, just as an element of familiarity for him.

"I GOT 24, MC THAT HITS DOESN'T IT?!" Levi showed you his dice and modifier for spells and you couldn't help but think how well this plays into your plan, for him to have his main character moment and save the others. You were planning on having that be the finishing blow no matter what damage he rolls, but he just so happens to roll for damage high enough to kill the monster. "And with that move you kill the monster, do you want to describe how you kill it?"

Levi's eyes lit up, seeing the chance to describe how his character defeats an actual monster! "THIS IS MY CHANCE! SO! I summon Lotan, the waves around us are getting bigger, and more violent yet they are not affecting our ship. Even the sea monster is getting trashed around, and as it is about to retreat into the ocean one of Lotan's head bursts out and bites the beast's neck, dealing a fatal blow"

After letting Levi have his main character moment you called for a time skip so that not only the ship arrives in Bellanova but they also get near the place where the cave is rumored to be. You would have dragged it out a bit longer, making the brothers look for clues and ask NPCs, but you could see some the brothers losing their patience. Not out of boredom, but out of exciment to see Levi's reaction to his surprise.

You made sure to add little detail to either NPCs or the description of places that reminded him of different animes and games he likes, to add to the fact that this entire campaign and world was made only for him. You worried that this might not be romantic enough for a proposal but when you stayed and think about it, creating a whole world, fictional or not, for your lover is romantic in a way.

"Ok guys, your group seems to be close to the cave of All Treasures. The problem is that there are a lot of cave in these mountains, full of monsters and traps. How do you go about finding the right cave?" All of the brothers start to discuss between themselves on the best course of action. A bunch of ideas were put up for discussion just to be ignored a second later. Some of your favourite ideas were: Asmo charming some random monster to show them where the cave of treasures were, Satan sending some of his cats to scout the caves which he quickly shout down. In the end they all decided to roll for perception to see if there are any clues around.

"Mammon and Levi both rolled an 18! Since you guys had the highest scores I will explain what your characters see." All the brothers leaned in to listen carefully to what you were about to say. "Your characters see a ghost like figure of a young girl in a pink hat and dress with light brown haired tied in two pig tails smiling at you. She looks like she wants you guys to follow her."

"A GHOST!? No way I'm going there!" At the mention of the ghost Mammon looked through his character sheet for anything that could him get rid of the spirit. "IDIOT! It's not just some ghost! That description...it must be Ruri-chan or a look alike, we have to follow her! MC my character is going after the ghost." Levi looked like he was about to run for real, and not only in the game, but you have decided to not comment on that, at least not yet.

"Does everyone agree to follow the ghost? Or do you have something else in your mind?" While you did ask the rest for their opinion, you gave them just a small signal that only they could see using magic to tell them to play along, the end of the campaign is over. After everyone agreed to go into the cave you went on with the final parts of the story.

"As your characters followed the ghost of the little girl, you could hear her say that she only allows people she deems worthy enough to see the cave, and that the last person she took to this cave was a tiefling with her baby daughter named Natasha a long time ago." You started to feel a little bit nervous, with the big reveal of the treasures coming soon.

"All of you enter in what you can only describe was a paradise. It no longer looked like a cave but royal room fit for a king. If any of you didn't know any better you would have thought you were teleported into a castle. Tables of food and drinks, piles of gold, bookshelves full of maps and books and 7 treasure chests were waiting for you. The little ghost turns towards your group to say her final words 'I have brought you to your destination. Feel free to eat and drink to your heart's content! The things you want the most each lie inside the treasure chests, one for each person.' And with that the spirit vanished."

You gasped for air after that part, you tried to talk as you normally do, but by the end you got a bit agitated. "I guess this is the end of the session. We should open the treasure chests in the order we showed up to the session." Lucifer said as a matter of fact. You were a bit confused for a second before you realized that Levi was the last one, so you had enough time to calm yourself before the proposal, you really need to thank Lucifer after you're done here.

Levi tried to argue about it, not wanting to be the last but the others were quickly to shut him up, all of them having understood Lucifer's plan. "Since we are going in that order, Lucifer is the first one. Your character walks up to the chest with his name on it and when he opens it he finds a crystal. To the others it doesn't seem that special but you could feel it's powers and you knew that this the cure of the curse that made you break your pact as a paladin." To make things seem more 'realistic' you handed Lucifer a fake crystal.

Turning to Mammon you beging to explain what he found in his treasure chests and you did the same to the rest of the brothers, each getting some item relevant to their character. Belphie got a star chart left by some old druid of the star circle, Satan got some clues that would help him in an investigation for his character and so on.

Facing Levi you finally begin the speech you have prepared just for this moment. "Your character's turn finally comes to open his treasure chest. As he opens it he can only dream of a legendary magical stuff that he might get, but to his surprise he sees a beautiful silver ring, in the shape of three tentacles wrapped around a dark blue stone. As your character was about to pick up the ring, the silhouette of their loved one appeared getting down on one knee." With that sentence all the brothers besides Levi got up and left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"MC? What is the meaning of this? Is this part of the story?" Looking at him you didn't know if he was in denial of what was happening or simply confused but it didn't matter to you at the moment. "You can say this is part of the session in a way, but I have to tell you the truth. The whole DnD campaign was made as a way to propose to you. I made this whole world and made sure to put references to things you like just for you!"

You watched as the realization sunk in, his eyes going wide. "You don't mean that you want to marry me right? You made this whole story just for me? Are you sure you want to marry, there are so many better demons out there!" You took his hand, hovering with the ring just above his finger. "There is no doubt in my heart that I want only you. I love you and our time that we spend together, and there is no question about who I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Looking into his eyes you could tell that he calmed down, but now he seemed to be flustered from the sweet things he just heard. You guessed as along as he doesn't faint before you propose it was better that way. "The only question is if you'll accept me. Levi, will you marry me?"

Tears runned down his face, not being able to believe what just happen. This was better than any scenario he could have imagined. "YES I WANT TO MARRY YOU! I want to you to be my player 2, to be my Henry to my Lord of Shadows, of course I am not gonna say no!". A sigh of relieve that you didn't even knew you were holding escaped your mouth as you finally placed the ring on his finger.

You got up in order to wipe his tears and kiss him, but that moment of tenderness was ruined when both of you heard cheering from the other side of the door. "Wait a second...my brothers knew about the whole plan?" Levi seemed to have a moment of realization right there and then. "How did you think I got all of them in the same place to play dnd? But from what I remember they were supposed to leave the two of us alone for good to have our moment." You said the last part throwing a glare towards the door. "Well it doesn't matter now, how about we go and celebrate our engagement somewhere else, where we will not get interupted?" You winked at him as you said the last part and it didn't take a lot for him to understand what you ment, his face already getting hot. "Just lead the way and I will follow you, MC."

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 13

Start of the 4th session. Lucas is missing from this one.

(master post)

Part 13

“I can’t make it to Hellfire tonight,” Lucas said at lunch. He looked squeamish about telling the group. “Basketball.” 

The other players in the club looked to Eddie. He was flipping through an issue of Dragon magazine that he’d picked up recently. The cover promised details about playing parallel worlds that seemed relevant. He only glanced up for a moment. “That’s fine,” he said. “I’ve got the next bit of the Cursed plotted out. We can play without you.” 

Lucas still looked nervous. “But, is Sadie going to be okay?” 

Dustin clapped his hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “She’s got her own personal bard, my man,” he said. “She’ll be fine.” 

Eddie snorted. “Henderson does not know what horrors I have in store for the party,” he said. “But yeah, she’s likely to survive another session. It’s the one after it that you should be worried about.” He grinned at Lucas, who gulped and nodded. 

So they went back to the Cursed that afternoon. Eddie privately lamented the fact that the cult of Vecna was unlikely to wrap up before spring break at the rate they were going, but his players seemed equally interested in the murder mystery plot. He figured he had another two or three sessions of that, though he really wanted Lucas to be back for the last one. Sadie was a key character and he didn’t want to have to play her himself to get through the end game. Maybe he’d luck out, the Tigers would lose a game, and he’d get his player back. 

“All right, folks,” Eddie said. “Time to get back to our intrepid little investigators. Where were we?”

“There was a third murder, but it wasn’t Sadie,” Gareth said. “We managed to save her just in the nick of time.” 

“And Quinn is missing again,” Dustin said. “Also, the guards are now super convinced that he’s the killer.” 

“How are you so sure he isn’t?” Eddie asked with a grin. 

“Well, we were in the creepy mansion when the torches started doing their creepy demonic thing, and he was out on the boat. Pretty sure it’s not him, unless he can co-locate with the demon realm,” Dustin said. 

“That’d be a cool trick,” Grant said. He paused for a second and pointed at Eddie. “You didn’t hear that. Don’t get any ideas.”

Eddie grinned. “I see all and hear all, Grant-man. No undoing it now.” He turned back to Mike. “Did they catch you up on what happened while you were gone?” 

“Yeah,” Mike said. “Sounded creepy. Kind of sucks that I didn’t get to fight the spiders.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get to fight something today,” Eddie said. “So you’ve got one cursed girl in your party and who knows how many more out there in Kiteshire. What are you going to do now?”

“We don’t have a lot of leads,” Jeff said. “But I vote for sticking together this time.” 

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “I say we try to find Quinn again. Maybe he saw something that the guards didn’t.” 

“Works for me,” Mike said. “All in favor?” 

The rest of the group agreed, but didn’t have any ideas for how to go about finding him now that he had vacated his hiding spot. Dustin suggested the same bird trick that he’d used when trying to contact Maya and Natalia. 

Eddie rolled some dice. “Funny you should mention that,” he said. “While you’re all standing around in the woods, debating how to find Quinn, a little red fox runs up to Gaten and sits around until he notices it. It’s got a leather pouch tied to its neck.”

“Oh! Duh, Quinn is also a bard,” Dustin said. “I take the pouch from the fox. What’s in it?”

“A note saying the writer is waiting for Gaten at the Giant’s Head.” 

“Is it from Quinn?” 

“It’s unsigned,” Eddie said, “but yes, you recognize the handwriting as his.” 

“What’s the Giant’s Head?” Mike asked. “Is it a tavern?”

Eddie grinned. “Why doesn’t everyone roll against their wisdom to see if they recognize the term?” 

As a group, they rolled poorly. Only Mike had a good result. Eddie sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, good job everyone. Mike, do you want me to tell you in private or are you just going to share it with the group?” 

Mike grinned. “Man, if I actually know something the rest of them don’t? I’m telling everyone.” 

“All right, then. The Giant’s Head is a rock formation deep in the forest, in the shape of, well, a giant’s head. It might actually be a petrified giant. No one knows.” 

Grant groaned. “Really, Eddie? You mean Skull Rock?” 

Eddie shushed him. “Anyway, Joe thinks he knows the way to get there. Mike, does Joe have any sort of tools for navigating the woods, or would he rely on Natalia for this?” 

“Eddie’s probably never even been to Skull Rock,” Gareth muttered. Jeff and Grant snickered.

“Yes I have, assholes,” Eddie said. “And quit it. This isn't the same thing.”

“It’s so the same thing,” Jeff said.

“Okay, what’s Skull Rock?” Dustin asked. “It’s clearly some kind of Hawkins in-joke. Just tell us and get it over with.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and gestured at the older players. “Go ahead, experts. Explain to the freshmen of what you speak.” 

“It’s a makeout spot in the woods,” Jeff said. “Bunch of big rocks that look like a skull. That’s literally all it is.”

Mike snorted. “Oh, so that’s why Joe’s the only one who knows how to get there.” 

Dustin laughed. “You’re right,” he said. “And here I thought it was bards that were supposed to be kind of slutty, not paladins.”

“Well, paladins do have the immunity to diseases,” Gareth said. “So they’ve got that going for them.” 

“Hey, let’s be fair about this,” Eddie said. “It’s an equal opportunity game. Both paladins and bards can be huge tramps.” 

“Joe especially,” Mike said. “Yeah, let’s go find his favorite makeout spot. I’ll bet he invented the damn thing.” Dustin started snickering.

“And how are you finding it?” Eddie asked. 

“I just use my innate slut-skills to guide the way,” Mike said. The whole table was starting to giggle along now. “It’s like a divining rod, but see, it’s in my pants.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, putting his head down on the table to try to stop laughing. “I will let you just find the place if you stop talking about your fictional character’s genitalia.” 

“Hey, I’m a bard!” Dustin said. “I should also be able to find the makeout spot.” 

“Oh God, no,” Eddie said. “You have to actually use a compass or something.” 

“I have that!” Dustin pulled out the second page of his character sheet and pointed at his item list. “I have a compass. I can use that.” 

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Sure, Henderson,” he said. “In fact, why don’t you two both roll and tell me what you get.”

“What am I rolling against?” Mike asked. 

“Charisma, obviously.” 

“Sweet.”

Tagging: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam

[whoneedsapublisher]

Daylight?

Well it's October again, and that means it's time for Idol Fanfic Heaven's Promptober Event! The first prompt is "Daybreak", so I wrote some goofy NicoMaki based on an argument that almost came up in the D&D campaign I play in.

Words: ~700

Summary: Nico and Maki disagree on the mechanics of a spell. Quite passionately.

Also on Ao3

******************************

At first, it had seemed like a wonderful idea. The members of μ’s had mostly stayed friends, but obviously, with so many people it was hard to stay close with everyone.

So when Maki had gotten it into her head that she wanted to try running a game of Dungeons and Dragons, Nozomi had been thrilled. The idea of spending a few hours together once a week rolling dice sounded perfect.

Of course, in her optimism, she had… mentally sanded the corners off of the whole affair. Assumed things would go just a little better than was really realistic to expect. The firs session, they’d built characters and Maki was constantly pulled between helping the newbies out on the one hand and fending off Nico’s questions on the other. Maki’s temper was more than frayed by the end. The second wasn’t much better, as Nico got impatient with the others getting to grips with how to play the game and quibbled with Maki about house rules.

But none of that was nearly as bad as when they started fighting the vampire.

“He does not have disadvantage,” Maki said, crossing her arms.

“That’s bullshit, Maki!” Nico said. “He’s a vampire! In daylight! Of course he has disadvantage! That’s how vampires work!”

“That’s sunlight! The daylight spell doesn’t say it counts as the sun!”

“It’s called daylight! What kind of light do you get during the day, Maki?! Moonlight???”

“It doesn’t say it’s sunlight, so it’s not sunlight.”

“That’s bullshit! Why would a spell that doesn’t do anything but provide light, something a cantrip does, be third level if it didn’t let you exploit sunlight sensitivity?”

Nozomi rubbed her temples.

She should have known it was only a matter of time until things boiled over. Nico and Maki had been fighting the entire campaign. Of course there was going to be a point where Maki ruled against Nico and Nico didn’t just grumble about it and move on. But to get into a full on shouting match over it…

“This is just like you, you know? Such a pedantic, stupid interpretation,” Nico growled

“And it’s just like you to misread the obvious intent if it gets what you want!” Maki snapped back.

Oh, lord, they’d started getting personal.

“Will you two just make out already, nya?”

A sudden hush fell over the table. All eyes turned to Rin, who was balancing a d20 on her finger as she leaned back in her chair, looking bored.

“You’ve been flirting for like, five years by now,” Rin said. “Can you two just go into the other room for like ten minutes and get all this tension out of your systems so we can play?”

Maki and Nico both stared at her, speechless, until Nozomi finally spoke up.

“Rin’s theory aside, maybe the two of you should go into the other room for a while,” she said. “Calm down a little.”

Maki stalked out, and after giving Nozomi a glare, Nico reluctantly followed.

Rin rolled her eyes.

“How is them being in the same room supposed to calm them down if they’re not going to make out?”

Nozomi shrugged. “If they really are mad, they can be on opposite sides of the room and not look at each other. And if you’re right, then there’s no point in separating them, is there?”

“Ooh, clever,” Honoka said.

The three of them waited for five minutes. And then ten. And then… twenty.

By the time Nico and Maki were back, it had been half an hour.

“Oh! You’re back?” Nozomi said, looking up from the card game they’d started.

She very pointedly did not mention that Nico’s shirt was untucked, or that Maki’s hair was definitely decidedly more ruffled than it had been before.

“Did you decide on a ruling?” Honoka said.

Nico and Maki glanced at each other.

“We agreed to look it up online,” Nico said.

“Right,” Maki said. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that worked out,” Nozomi said, clapping her hands.

“Not the only thing that got worked out,” Rin muttered under her breath. Nozomi ignored her.

“Let’s go back to the game, shall we?”

And just like that, for the rest of the session, no arguments whatsoever.

Wonderful what a little bit of time “calming down” could do for you.

[healeroflightanddark]

The Lucky Dragon, Chapter 3: No Dice

Yuto walked around the casino pit, keeping an eye on the tables. He was the pit boss today, which meant that he was in charge of monitoring everything in his assigned pit. He smiled a bit as his eyes fell on Yugo, who was currently the boxman for a craps table. Craps was Yugo’s favorite casino game, so Zarc usually assigned him to a craps table whenever he wasn’t working as the pit boss. Yuto, Yuri, and Yuya were also usually assigned to their favorite games when they weren’t pit bosses, Yuto’s favorite being roulette, Yuri’s being poker, and Yuya’s blackjack.

As much as Yuto would have loved to watch his boyfriend work, he too had a job to do. The eggplant continued walking around the pit, keeping vigilant. It would not do for him to get distracted by his cute banana and miss an issue.

It was currently 8AM on a Monday, one of the slowest days and times of the casino, but each table in Yuto’s pit still had at least two people playing. Yuto recognized a couple of them as regulars. One of the girls at Yuya’s usual blackjack table appeared to be quite drunk. Yuto made a mental note to keep an eye on her, just in case she was drunk enough to do something stupid like try to steal chips. It had happened a few times before.

As Yuto was making his rounds back toward Yugo’s craps table, he heard the sound of someone whining, “But why noooooot?”

“It’s against the rules,” Yugo replied. “You can’t use your personal dice in a casino.”

“But they’re my lucky dice!” the whiner argued. “I never play a dice game without them!”

“Sorry, but rules are rules,” Yugo said. “You either play with the house dice or you don’t play at all.”

“Why you—I wanna speak with your manager!” Oh great. It was a Karen. Yuto sighed and walked over to the craps table. “You can’t play with your personal dice. Casino dice games are strictly regulated. We can’t bend the rules for anyone. Either play with the dice we provide or leave.”

The Karen appeared to be about to argue, when suddenly Zarc arrived. “Get. Off. My. Property. Sara.”

Yuto and Yugo blinked in surprise. Zarc had, of course, told them, Yuya, and Yuri about his gold-digging ex and how she was the one that had been the one that tried to fight Yuri when he kicked her out of the casino for counting cards, and how she had somehow contacted Zarc. The five boyfriends kept no secrets from each other. But they didn’t have any idea how she could have gotten back into the casino after Zarc had specifically told the front not to let her back in.

“But Zarcy!” Sara protested. “I’m not even doing anything wrong! It’s these horrible, evil, ugly men! They’re the ones being mean to me by not letting me use my own lucky dice! You should fire them!”

“One, using personal dice in ANY casino is forbidden by the Casino Regulation Committee,” Zarc snapped. “It’s not my rule, even I can’t change it, and my casino could get shut down if I allowed it. Two, you are on the Banlist, I could have you arrested for trespassing. Three, these two men are doing their jobs properly. I’m not going to fire them for doing their job the way they’re supposed to. And finally, these two men are also my boyfriends, and if you EVER insult them or my other two boyfriends again, well, I still have that video of you at that party in high school that you told everyone to delete. I’ll post it online! Now get off my property!”

“No! You can’t make me!” Sara shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in the pit. Zarc raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Seconds later, Sara was once again being dragged kicking and screaming out of the casino.

Yuto stared after the woman, shaking his head in disbelief. “How the hell did she manage to get back in?” he wondered out loud. Zarc sighed. “The bouncer left to use the bathroom without getting anyone to cover for him. Don’t worry, I called the police on Sara. She probably won’t have the chance to try again… Hopefully…”

[stickandthorn]

Imogen for the character ask?

First impression - Love the accent and design, and Laura is charismatic as always, but I find the reading people’s minds creepy and invasive. I don’t really like how much she uses it, but it’s an interesting trait.

Impression now - I like her a lot now, especially knowing that she’s actively working to keep her mind closed, not working to open it. She’s such an interesting character with a very cool concept, her and Laudna work very well together, and I love the implications of where the mind reading might go. The backstory feels real and unique in the sense that, even if I don’t like some of the people involved, I can understand why things shook out the way they did, and I can just see how it spiraled into getting bad. Wanna know more about the storm dream, and overall impression of her is definitely going up.

Favorite moment - Her and Bertrand‘s reconnaissance mission. Watching Laura and Travis do comedy together is an absolute blessing, I was laughing my ass off the entire time, it was just so good. They both play so well off each other, and the funnier side of Imogen really shone  through. I also loved the dream sequence, but that feels a little less centered around her actions and more just something that happened to her she couldn’t play off of much in the moment, so I wouldn’t call it my favorite.

Idea for a story - I really like the idea of Imogen meeting Opal from exu, and peeking into her head (on accident or on purpose) and hearing the thoughts of not only Opal, but also Lolth the spider queen and some woman named Ted?? And being super confused about it and not knowing what to do, because hey this woman has multiple people in her head and one is a betrayer god, and then meeting Dariax and hearing his literal “no thoughts, head empty but for my pseudo-patron” brain and just needing a lie down. Neither Dorian, Fearne, nor Orym are giving her helpful explanations, but Laudna is having a nice chat with Opal about having a powerful evil lady in your head and how annoying it is.

Unpopular opinion - I prefer Imogen and Laudna as friends. Don’t get me wrong, if they did do a romance I’d be totally on board and I’m sure it’d be cute and interesting, but honestly I just want more extremely close, trusting, interesting, relatively healthy platonic relationships in media. They’re pretty much as close as you’d think a couple would be, and they both deeply love each other, but they’re not dating. What can I say, I’m aspec, that shit is my bread and butter.

Favorite relationship - While I do love her and Laudna, I’m gonna go with her and Orym on this one. They just sound off each other really well, in a sort of “the only reasonable person here, but that’s just because we’re reasonable by comparison since everyone else is batshit crazy” way. And of course, Laura and Liam work super well together, the twins always pull through with their character dynamics and it’s always fun. I’m excited to see where that one goes!

Favorite headcanon - When provoked, she pulls out the most devastating “bless your heart” that only a true souther woman can. It eviscerates you on the spot. She can role damage dice for saying it. Literally pretty much a spell. Also, this is more about Laudna and Imogen, but Laudna sometimes plays/sings/whatever you want to call it songs in her head when Laudna is tired, so when she accidentally reaches into Laudna’s mind there’s nice music going on in there. 

[gotnofucks]

Pot of Gold

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You went broke and bet your pussy.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Fluffy smut, slight dom Steve, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: dedicated to the anon who said she needed fluffy Steve smut so that she could get out of her bed. Hope you feel better hon <3

MASTERLIST

+++++

“And what do you bet?” Thor asked you, stacking other’s money in the center of the table. It wasn’t game night yet, but since no one wanted to go out you lot pulled out a few board games. It was going great until the betting started, because the Avengers just can’t play like normal broke people. You had like an amateur lost all your cash in the last round of poker, and now sitting around some stupid board game with pictures and dices, you were the only one who was penniless. Everyone else had tossed on hundreds of dollars and looked at you curiously.

“I bet my pussy” You said at last and a hush fell around the table. For the first time tonight, you were glad to be the only woman present. The reaction you received from the men was very flattering.

Tony, Steve, Thor, Sam, Bucky, and Clint all looked dumbstruck for a moment, their mouths hanging open in surprise. It was when Tony snorted in amusement that they shook their head and gave you disbelieving looks.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have it on good authority that its like a pot of gold.” You remarked and saw more than one man blush. You didn’t care much about modesty, or shame for that matter.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious” Bucky said, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course, I am Buck. My pussy is worth more than your money put together, so whoever wins will be more than pleased with the outcome. If someone else wins that is. I have every intension of winning this time ‘round” You declared while cracking your knuckles.

“Cool then. Game’s simple enough. Roll the dice, get big numbers, and cross the obstacles. Whoever reaches the finishing line first wins and takes the prize.” Tony said and Steve looked scandalized.

“You can’t be serious Tony!” He exclaimed and you rolled your eyes right along with Tony’s.

“Listen up Capsicle if the lady wants to bet her cooch, so she can. I for one really want to win this round.” Tony said winking at you, and you giggled.

“You got competition here Stark. I want that pot of gold.” Thor stated and you would be a liar if a fire didn’t start in your belly. You wouldn’t mind any of the men taking you, or all of them.

“Oh baby, you are gonna get some chocolate spread this evening” Sam was rubbing his hands the way villains do and you gave him a once over, licking your lips at the end making him groan. “Cap and Tin Man make be from the 90s, but I can give it to you good.”

“I can give it as good as you Birdguy. Just you wait and see. She’ll be screaming from the rafter!” Bucky was also flexing as if it was a wresting match. You couldn’t help the smug smile that was splitting your face in half. This was much better than any evening out would have been.

The game began without preamble now and you saw more than one salacious look tossed your way. Even Steve and Clint who had so far not made their desire known were looking at you with hot eyes, each person rolling the dice with greater gusto. Sabotage became common, someone trying to knock their elbows and move their pieces. Arguments broke out, the board was almost flipped twice, and the game was nearing the end. You were holding the dices in your hands, rolling them between your thumb and finger as you carefully measured your score. You’d need a 10 to win. Or else you were out. Everyone’s eyes were trained on and you felt the pressure mounting. You breathed deeply then let the dices fall with a loud exhale, holding your breath as they came to a still.

5 and 4

“Fuck!” You shouted and the sentiment was echoed, more like cheered. You sat back on your chair with a huff and cross your arms while Thor puts a hand around you.

“Its okay Y/n, I’ll make sure you win even as you lose.” He made his move and the other guys booed as Thor lost too. You were at the edge of your seat, watching as one by one everyone else rolled the dices across the board. Clint groaned and mimicked your actions when he didn’t make the line, followed by Sam who simply got up and left. You watched Tony, Steve and Bucky battle it out, their tongues between their teeth. You were as anxious as any of the others, legs bouncing in anticipation. You made a small noise of dejection when Bucky lost and pouted. You really wouldn’t have minded that metal hand between your legs.

“Capsicle, why not give up now. It’s not like you’ll know what to do with a woman like our girl here.” Tony goaded Steve who glared at him.

“Make your move Stark.” He simply replied and you leaned forward as the dices rolled. They spun on their edges, making the suspense comically longer and when they finally laid still you started chuckling.

“Next time, Tony.” You consoled, your hand patting his knee. He looked so forlorn that you almost suggested a rematch.

“He still has to make a move! He hasn’t won yet.” Tony pointed at Steve who with all the stoicism bred into him tossed his dices and got the perfect score.

“In your face, playboy!” Steve triumphed and to everyone’s surprise just lifted you onto his shoulders like a sack and began walking away. “Leave the cash with Buck. I’ll take those earnings after I’m finished with the real prize”

Cheers and howls followed you as you dangled over Steve’s back. You had no idea he could be this passionate, but you had no reason to complain. You let him haul you away to his room in relative peace, only getting a slap on your butt after poking Steve’s ass through his joggers. He threw you on the bed and shut the door behind him, turning to look at you with fire in his eyes.

“Velvet or silk?” He questioned and your throat went dry as he walked to his closet in the corner. He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t respond, and you cleared your throat.

“Velvet?” You answered, unsure what you agreed to. Steve came back with velvet lined handcuffs in his hands and you creamed. Holy shit, who would have thought that prim and proper Captain could have a kinky side too.

“Hands behind your head” He ordered in his captain voice and you swore your thighs were trembling in need. This was something so out of the realm of possibility you felt out of your element for a while. You complied, your hands holding the headrest as Steve came forward and cuffed them, the velvet delicate on your skin. He rattled them a little, looking at you in question. “Feel okay?”

You only nodded, too stunned to speak, and licked your lips when Steve removed his t-shirt, his bare chest only serving to make you hotter. You didn’t realize you had parted your legs in welcome until Steve climbed between them, his blue eyes almost black with lust.

“Do you have a safe word?” He asked and you nodded.

“Oatmeal” You answered, and Steve paused as if making sure he heard right. “It is a long story.” You sighed. Steve smiled before leaning over you to kiss you softly, his hands travelling from your hips to your sides, caressing them languidly and then reaching your breasts. You moaned in his mouth when his fingers found your stiff nipples, and you bucked up trying to bring him closer.

“You need to tell me if I hurt you, okay?” Steve urged, his mouth licking a fiery trail on your neck. You nodded, too busy in the feel of his mouth to do more than moan. Oh god, Tony was sooo wrong. Cap knew what to do with a girl alright.

He pulled back enough to take hold of your top and tear it straight down the middle, his inner caveman coming back. Your bra fared the same and Steve wasted no time in lapping up your supple flesh. You were sure your voices carried all the way down to the common room, Steve’s tongue making you go wild.

“No holding back sounds tonight, sweetheart. Or I’ll hold back your orgasms, that clear?” He said and hooked his hands into your pants to pull them down, his hands tracing your bare legs. The look in his eyes made you feel like you’ll combust if he didn’t touch you down there right now.

“Please Steve, don’t tease.” You whined and he bent over you, pulling your panties down with his teeth. You are going to write him a fucking glowing performance review and mail it to Tony tomorrow. Your wildest fantasies couldn’t have prepared you for it. He slipped out of his joggers and boxers, his cock hard and weeping. Your mouth watered and you downright salivated when he stroked it. Steve saw your expression and chuckled.

“You’ll get a taste later. But right now, I’m gonna dip my prick in your pot of gold.”

You wished your hands were free when he fitted himself between your legs, helping you wrap them around his thick frame. He torturously lubed himself up in your juices and entered you sinfully slow, letting you feel every bit of him. You both moaned, your mouths meeting for a sloppy kiss when he started moving, getting faster by the minute. One of his hands reached between your bodies to tweak your clit, alternating rough and soft until you bordered on the edge of your cliff. He was so thick you were stretched almost uncomfortably wide; each inch of your walls being rubbed in the most delicious way. You chanted a crescendo of “yes” and “oohs” and “please” and “faster” along with his name. You didn’t seem to be making sense, but he clearly didn’t care since he did little but grunt in pleasure, hips hammering in you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall.

“Come on darling, scream for me!” He ordered, his fingering pinching your bud and you exploded around him, your body arching in pleasure. He fucked you through your high, thrusts getting sloppier with every second. “Are you on the pill?” He really should have asked earlier.

“I get a depo shot. Don’t you dare waste a single drop. Need you in me!” You honestly didn’t know what you were saying, instead you seemed drunk on his passion and power. You needed him to fill you up, the very primal animalistic part of you craving his seed.

Steve stuttered, his breath coming out in broken gasps when he finally released in you, hips lazily moving until he went limp right over your body. His weight crushed you, but you didn’t tell him to roll off just yet. The warmth of him fell nice.

He raised his hands and reached to undo your hands, massaging your wrists gently and you fisted them in his hair, pulling him into another deep kiss before letting go. He settled beside you, sweaty body holding yours close.

“You’re not leaving tonight; I still need to taste you.” He murmured in your ear, biting the earlobe, and making you squeal.

“Yes captain” you conceded, and his hand swatted your behind before pulling you closer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whispered in his ear after your breaths had settled to normal. He hummed in reply and you sat up, your eyes twinkling. “I lost on purpose”

Steve blinked before a laugh bubbled from deep within him, his arms pulling your body under his as he caged you.

“My god, I think I’m gonna have to fuck you good enough that you never think of letting another man fuck you. This pot of gold,” he cupped your pussy, “I have no intension of sharing it”.

+++++

Gonna re-blog with tags later

Taglist is Open.

[twstarchives]

Happy Birthday・Idia

Card: Birthday Attire - SSR Characters: Idia & Yuu. Mentioned: Ortho, Muscle Crimson

Chapter 1

—IGNIHYDE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

NRC Campus News Interview with the Birthday Student ~Idia ver.~

Yuu: Happy birthday!

Idia: Huh...? U-Uh, um... Th-Thank... you.

That’s a lovely outfit.

Idia: You think so? This “Yo! I’m a big merry chief!”-looking outfit? Your aesthetic is something I can’t even begin to understand.

It’s fancy, it’s too tight, and it s-stands out.

But worst of all, I’m having people whose names I don’t even know just casually talking to me... Have you ever experienced something so horrifying?

I’m at my limit... Hah... I wanna get this thing off as soon as possible...

Alright, let’s get started with the interview——

Idia: Eee! Y-Y-You said “interview”? With me?

No, no, no, you’re joking...

That’s just way too impossible for a modest guy like me... I have to decline.

...I-I can’t? Y-You’re really stubborn. H-Hold on a second...

          (He switches to speaking from his tablet)

Idia: Okay, I’m good now. L-Let’s get this over with.

How does it feel with everyone sending you birthday wishes?

Idia: ...I-It’s nothing but literal torture to have flocks of normies come up and talk to me...

The idea that every single person wants a huge birthday celebration with lots of people is a complete lie!

Aren’t you happy it’s your birthday?

Idia: It just means my lifespan decreased by a year. What’s there to be happy ab—oh, wait, just kidding! Scratch that.

I’ve got loads of amazing birthday events in my games!

Between collecting limited voice lines and reading all my birthday stories... I’ve been extremely busy since this morning~.

S-So, can I go back to my room now...? No? Okay.

Chapter 2

—IGNIHYDE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

Please let me continue with our interview.

Idia: N-No, the things I have to say feel kinda pointless. Haven’t you heard enough already...?

I’d rather not talk to you through a tablet...

Idia: ...Does that mean we can end this faster if we talk face-to-face? Okay then.

          (He discards his tablet)

Thank you. First off, what’s your favorite food?

Idia: ...Candy. They’re good and they’re easy to eat while playing games... It’s perfect.

I-I love educational candy kits the most. The ones where you can add water and mix it, sprinkle powders in it, make it solidify...

The candy itself is like a game, so I get so focused on playing it... Hehe.

I can make the colors and shapes whatever I want, so it’s really fun. And if you think it’s a game for kids, then you’re wrong.

What about your least favorite food?

Idia: ...Raw fish. I-It’s smelly, lukewarm, and the texture feels slimy, slippery, and sticky...

Plus it’s annoying when you can’t eat something without utensils. Getting those out takes so much time. I hate it...

It’s just important to get nutrition into your body, and well-balanced block candy does that fine! Yup, you can’t disagree with me!

Is there a reason you’re always wearing headphones?

Idia: ...O-Oh? So you can ask actually good questions. Obviously, it’s to listen to phenomenal music with the best sound quality.

It’s courtesy to the creators who brought these masterpieces to life to listen to them in HQ.

Oh. The noise canceling function is also very important. ...It lets me shut out the outside world.

What kind of music do you listen to?

Idia: ...I-I stan some idol groups... I love their songs.

The appeal of idols isn’t just their looks~ I wouldn’t stan a group if their songs sucked~

So you like idols? Do you have a favorite group?

Idia: Moirai! Moirai on the Edge! You don’t know them? This is why you’re a normie...

They’re a popular trio of veteran dancers and seasoned vocalists!

Listening to their godly songs makes me start chanting and clapping like I’m at one of their live concerts...

Hehehe!

I-I could show you some of their music if you’re interested... No, I won’t force you if you don’t want to...

Chapter 3

—IGNIHYDE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

Please let me continue with our interview just a little longer.

Idia: ...Are you serious? I’ve already been enduring this for so long keeping my tablet away...

H-Hey, can we just end this? I’ve talked enough. What do I even get out of this?

I’m the birthday boy or whatever (lol), but my opinion doesn’t get to be respected...?

I-It’ll be over soon, I promise... Um, tell us about a birthday memory you have.

Idia: Uhh... My parents gave me a lot of games as presents.

Console games, board games, all kinds of things for me to play in my room.

I was always ecstatic when I got them, and Ortho would play them with me.

I always won more than him when we were little. I mean, I am a genius, so what do you expect? Hehe.

But Ortho would get upset about it every time, so I slowly started changing the games we played.

To board games that use things like roulette wheels and dice.

Th-That way, Ortho could still have fun with them without needing to have any technique...

That was nice of you.

Idia: W-Well, it was my birthday... and I’m his big brother...

But it’s not like I can beat Ortho at computer games now!

I have one last question to ask.

Idia: Huh? I-Is it really the last one? I can’t do this anymore...

I promise it is. Has anything happened for your birthday today?

Idia: Um... Th-The second the day changed, I got dozens of birthday messages flying in from my online friends...

Oh, yeah. Muscle Crimson-shi gave me a rare weapon as a present~

Man, I was so touched!

...Hah. I wish everyone would just send me birthday wishes online instead of coming to me face-to-face...

The idea that talking in-person is more significant than online chats and texts is such an outdated point of view...

Extroverts should be aware that making eye contact and laughing puts so much pressure on someone...

           (He switches back to his tablet)

Idia: Speaking of, I’m much more attentive and genuine when I talk through my tablet lolol.

Thank you. Once again, happy birthday!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Meng Yao uses his self-absorbed sociopath murderer-ness for the forces of good. (Am not anon, just also think it sounds interesting.)

It happened on the way to Langya.

Meng Yao was feeling quite good about how things had developed. After his father had cast him out, he had vowed to return and force the man to acknowledge him, to put himself in a position where everyone had ever sneered at him would be force to kiss his feet or die – everything after that had been further service to that goal.

He’d gone to Qinghe, because it was the only place that respected merit over blood; he’d found the most arrogant cultivators and allowed them to bully him, because he had learned that Nie Mingjue abhorred injustice among his own more than anything; he had cleared the battlefields and helped the commoners because Nie Mingjue had commented on it positively, suggesting correctly that it was the path to promotion, although becoming Nie Mingjue’s personal deputy had been a pleasant surprise. Rescuing Lan Xichen had been just as unexpected an accident, but a welcome one, and just as importantly, a useful one – it was easy enough to encourage the man to be the one to bring up the subject of Meng Yao returning to the Lanling Jin sect, and to arrange to be within earshot of Nie Mingjue when he did.

And now he had a letter of recommendation from Nie Mingjue himself sitting in his pouch.

Would that be enough for Jin Guangshan?

Meng Yao wasn’t sure. Nie Mingjue had let him see the letter – the usual sort of thing, from one sect leader to another, flattering him as possessing both excellent skills and virtuous conduct – and from everything he’d heard, Jin Guangshan would enjoy the feeling of snatching away a talent.

But would that be enough?

Would he need to do more? And if he did – how far would he need to go? Who would he need to crush beneath his feet to get to the top?

His thoughts were consumed by such worries, and he reached inside the pouch to pull out the so-precious recommendation letter, just to feel it – he often did it, a nervous tick that he couldn’t quite stop – and that’s why he didn’t see the rabbit darting across his feet.

He stumbled and fell, his fingers instinctively gripping the letter tight – and that’s when he noticed it.

There was a small bulge in the letter. Not much of one, just a little curve that shouldn’t be there.

At once Meng Yao dusted himself off, took himself off the main road and made himself a small fire near the stream; his mother had long ago taught him how to steam letters open in such a way that they could be closed again, seal intact and none the wiser. He hadn’t bothered before, since he’d already seen what the letter contained – or rather, he’d thought he knew what it contained.

He’d thought Nie Mingjue too straightforward to play any tricks. But, he supposed, one never really knew.

The letter unfurled itself in his hand: it was exactly the letter he had been shown, which was a relief, but hidden inside was another piece of paper, small and folded up – it would have fallen into the palm of whoever cracked the seal to open the letter. Jin Guangshan, presumably.

Meng Yao opened the additional letter.

The calligraphy was unmistakably Nie Mingjue’s, forceful and bold. The words –

We have never seen eye-to-eye, and I am aware that our alliance is only against the Wens. Despite this, I would ask that you overlook both our past enmity and the embarrassment you will undoubtedly feel at the prospect of accepting Meng Yao after what happened between you in the past. Underneath his calm demeanor, he is ruthless and vindictive, but he has chosen in spite of that to be a good man, deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine. Consider it as me owing you a favor.

It was a good thing Meng Yao was already sitting down.

He hadn’t – he’d thought Nie Mingjue hadn’t noticed. The man disregarded most things as unimportant, never caring about people being rude or disdainful whether of Meng Yao or of himself, had believed (absurdly) that good conduct alone would be enough to shut their wretched mouths, something Meng Yao had long ago learned was not true – he��d assumed Nie Mingjue was naïve, even willfully blind; he’d thought he’d pulled the wool over his eyes, hiding his hatred underneath his smiles and even temperament, tricking him into underestimating him as he had so many others before. Even Lan Xichen, who liked him and treated him well simply because he was a good person, didn’t know what Meng Yao was really like – would never know, as far as Meng Yao was concerned.

He hadn’t realized that Nie Mingjue saw him, understood that he was full of spite and bile and grudges, and thought that he’d – what? That he’d simply chosen otherwise?

Absurd.

Who would ever choose to be good, simply for the sake of being good? What practical benefits could anyone get from that?

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine. Consider it as me owing you a favor.

Meng Yao pressed the letter to his chest, which felt both hollow and full to overflowing at the same time; to think that Nie Mingjue, proud, defiant, unbending Nie Mingjue, Sect Leader of one of the Four Great Sects, the only one who was actually winning against the Wen sect – to think that he would humble himself to beg a favor from a man the whole world knew he despised as a craven fool.

To think he would do that for him.

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine.

It was such a stupid thing. Pointless, worthless! Could you eat respect, if you were hungry? Would respect keep you warm at night when you were freezing? If a sword were held to your throat, could respect block it?

When the laughter of your enemies filled your ears, could the respect of a single man let you ignore it? Did it really matter so much, to have someone see you as you truly were and to still decide you were worth something?

...yes. It seemed that it did.

Meng Yao, don’t be a fool. Your plans..!

Meng Yao carefully resealed the letter, making sure the seal was intact and it looked untouched; the small note, Nie Mingjue’s heartfelt plea on his behalf, did not go back inside of it. If Nie Mingjue ever asked – and he wouldn’t, since he hadn’t told Meng Yao about the extra note to begin with – Meng Yao could always say that it simply fell out without him noticing.

The letter went back into his pouch.

The note he tucked into his robes, placing it right over his heart.

The recommendation letter would be enough, or it wouldn’t; there was no need for Nie Mingjue to lose face in front of Jin Guangshan. Meng Yao had plenty of plans on what to do if simply being a talent wasn’t good enough for his father to recognize him – there was a war on, after all, and Nie Mingjue had never hidden anything from him.

No matter what happened, he had plans.

-

Meng Yao fantasized about murdering his supervisor on a near daily basis.

Had he once complained in his heart about the Nie sect cultivators, who did little more than enjoy the momentary pleasure of being superior to someone of finer birth? Who were brutish and stubborn to the point of hard-headedness? Who thought strength of arms was the beginning and end of the Dao?

He’d rather be a menial servant for the worst of the whole lot of them rather than have to put up with another minute of him.

Petty humiliations on a daily basis – berating him for things that weren’t his fault, calling him all sorts of names, giving him the worst tasks, allowing and even encouraging the other soldiers to play pranks on him. Beatings, if he dared protest, and even when he didn’t, just to make sure he didn’t ‘forget’ his place. Taking credit for all of Meng Yao’s ideas and hard work, so that there would be no way for him to make his way up here as he had back in Qinghe – to ensure that his father could safely forget about his existence, having done the bare minimum that the respect owed to another Sect Leader required.

He’d even said – about Meng Yao’s mother –

It wouldn’t be hard, either; easy enough to do, easy enough to cover it up, and no one would ever need to know. Meng Yao had poor cultivation, having started too late to ever catch up in terms of strength, and so he had to substitute for it: aiming for quantity instead of quality, learning all the techniques he could – with his brilliant memory, seeing once was the same as learning. He knew Wen techniques, and there were Wen swords all over the battlefield; he bent over and picked one up.

Killing his superior, who would not expect it, would be as easy as flipping over his hand, and his corpse would simply be counted as another casualty of battle. Another debt due to the Wen-dogs.

There was really no reason not to – he already had plans to desert, having realized by now that he would never be able to win Jin Guangshan’s attention through honest work; his goals required that he take a different path, a riskier one, but when had he not been willing to stake it all on one throw of the dice? He could assuage his own anger, get revenge, and leave this all behind him, the whole world unknowing.

Now was the perfect chance.

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine.

Meng Yao grimaced and threw down the sword.

Stupid: it clattered on the ground, and his superior heard it, and turned at once to scream at him, accusing him of all sorts of things – even incidentally true ones, like plotting to kill him (though he would have stabbed him from the front, not the back). As was usual, he pulled out his switch and began beating Meng Yao as he screamed, blows focused on his upper arms and chest and back where no one would see; Meng Yao would have to disrobe to show someone, and that would only lead to rumors. Bad enough that his superior claimed that he was making his way through the camp on his back; he wouldn’t let anyone else have any basis for saying the same.

Meng Yao gritted his teeth and bore with it. He’d be leaving soon enough –

There was the familiar sound of unsheathing.

So familiar, in fact, that Meng Yao’s mouth opened without his own volition, automatically saying, “Sect Leader Nie, please hold back – ”

In that first moment before he turned, he’d thought he’d mistaken one sheath for another, an old habit – a memory of better times, even – because of course it couldn’t be true, there was no way for Nie MIngjue to be here, but despite all common sense he heard that familiar voice roar, “I will not!”

There was, Meng Yao reflected, a certain joy in all those thoughts of murdering his superior, a warm glow at the thought of getting the revenge he deserved by making the man pay in blood.

Watching Nie Mingjue thoroughly beat the man for having dared lay a hand on him?

Even better.

“Sect Leader Nie, perhaps you should stop,” he finally said after a while. “He is after all the lieutenant of another sect.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m using the flat of my blade,” Nie Mingjue said, and Meng Yao had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

“I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with Sect Leader Jin,” he said, and that much he actually meant.

“I’m here to save him at his own request, he wouldn’t have the face to shame me,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively, but he did – somewhat reluctantly – stop, and allowed Meng Yao’s superior to go running; if Meng Yao hadn’t already planned to leave, he might have been concerned regarding who the man would complain to. “Meng Yao, why does your – why does Sect Leader Jin claim he doesn’t know who you are?”

Meng Yao opened his mouth, eyes flickering as he wondered what he could say that would save face all around and avoid starting a fight between Nie Mingjue, who he liked, and his father, who he still needed to one day acknowledge him – it would be a tricky tightrope.

One he never had to walk.

Nie Mingjue held up a hand, looking annoyed. “If you’re going to lie, just tell me you don’t know.”

“…I don’t know,” Meng Yao said obediently. His father preferred to pretend he didn’t exist, even though he owed Nie Mingjue more than that; admitting that, however, would be causing unnecessary trouble.

Nie Mingjue scowled. “You’re welcome to come back, if you find yourself unfulfilled here. The man I replaced you with is a – well. He’s not up to your standard.”

Meng Yao smiled. “I appreciate the offer, Sect Leader Nie, but – there’s another way, I think, to win enough merit to make my father have no choice but to see me.”

He surveyed Nie Mingjue’s expression, wondering if he would at last find disdain – but no, the man merely nodded, as if planning to force one’s own father into submission was an entirely reasonable, justified, and righteous path. Perhaps it was, if the father in question was Jin Guangshan.

“I have been studying the Wen sect’s techniques,” Meng Yao said. “I believe I can infiltrate their forces.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “You held the sword well enough to pass for a Wen,” he said, and Meng Yao hadn’t realized he’d arrived early enough to see that. “But it won’t last for very long.”

“I wouldn’t need it to,” Meng Yao explained. “My father has mistreated me, and everyone knows it – it wouldn’t be so hard to claim that I was defecting because I had had enough. Wen Ruohan would enjoy having one of his enemy’s sons as a servant.”

He’d accumulated a month’s worth of bruises on his back for that very reason.

Nie Mingjue’s frown deepened. “You don’t need to do this.”

“It will help us win,” Meng Yao countered. “You know my skills, Sect Leader Nie; my memory is excellent and I’m not very noticeable – I can find plans, maps, instructions; I will find ways to send them on to the forces on our sides. You don’t have a single spy as good as I can be. Think of all the battles we can win – the lives we’ll save! Cultivators and common people both!”

“And it will win you the merit you need.”

Meng Yao nodded. That was the main point, of course; the rest was all just talk.

Nie Mingjue’s jaw worked as he thought it over. Schemes and deception were not his forte; he had spies, as did all the other Sect Leaders, and shared information with them freely, but it had never been the way he liked to do things.

Meng Yao’s heart was in his mouth as he waited for Nie Mingjue’s judgment. If it were anyone else, he would have just thanked him and bid him goodbye without sharing his plans; but Nie Mingjue had gone to Jin Guangshan and asked about him, without prompting, entirely unbidden – he would make a fuss if Meng Yao just disappeared. Better to tell him.

Better to gamble on respect.

“…Wen Ruohan would enjoy having one of Sect Leader Jin’s blood in his ranks,” Nie Mingjue finally said, the words coming out slow and reluctant. “But not as much as he would enjoy having my deputy.”

Meng Yao’s eyes curved into crescents at this unexpected delight. “Sect Leader Nie, are you proposing that we have a fight?”

-

Life as Jin Guangyao was about what Meng Yao had expected it to be. Nasty, mean, vicious, underhanded…Madame Jin treated him worse than a servant; Jin Guangshan, now officially Father, gave him things to organize and slave over, and expected him to thank him for the gift; Jin Zixuan mostly looked endlessly uncomfortable about everything, but he’d clearly learned long ago how to keep his mouth shut.

It wasn’t all that different from life inside the Wen sect, Meng Yao reflected. At Wen Ruohan’s side, he’d gotten to torture people and found that he had the skills for it, although not the taste: it felt good to make his enemies scream, as good as he’d always thought it would be, but in the end it wasn’t quite as good as the feeling of Nie Mingjue trusting him enough to let him set the stage for his dramatic desertion.

It certainly wasn’t anywhere as good as the moment in the Sun-Scorching Palace when Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with relief at the realization that Meng Yao hadn’t betrayed him after all, allowing himself to finally let that too-stiff back of his bend in the hands of Meng Yao and Lan Xichen, who had come at his word without so much as a question.

And that meant, irritatingly enough, that if Meng Yao wanted more of that good feeling, he was going to have to – to do that.

To be a good person.

To make the choices a good person would make, even if it was purely transactional on his part. Good deeds would get him praise and respect from the men he respected most, both of whom were now his sworn brothers; they might not get him anything more substantive than that, but – whatever.

He was good enough to find a way to get what he wanted even with being held back by stupid rules.

Most recently, he’d presented plans for lookout towers to Jin Guangshan, careful to do it in public so that no one could claim credit for the idea; his father wasn’t that interested, but it was enough to win him some merit among those watching, especially those small sects that usually had to deal with the more remote areas. Of course, plenty of people claimed it was a scheme for Lanling Jin to obtain personal benefits, but ironically enough Jin Guangshan’s disinterest did a great deal to reassure them.

No matter. He would make it work, given time.

Not that he had much time.

Jin Guangshan had him running around like a dog more often than not – organizing sect events, banquets and other things, writing correspondence, all the tasks of a deputy and none of the benefits. He even demanded that Meng Yao help him arrange his – entertainment.

Meng Yao’s lip curled.

If he weren’t so devoted to being a good person, he would have used the opportunity to ingratiate himself with his father – to try to earn his favor, or at least learn his secrets so as to use them later. But no. He had to be good.

There was more than one way to be good.

He didn’t wait for Madame Jin to find out about the new work he’d been assigned, as she undoubtedly would – Jin Guangshan was not subtle – but instead went to find her directly, throwing himself down at her feet. “Madame, I have wronged you,” he said, his forehead touching the ground. “Please select an appropriate punishment.”

She looked somewhat taken aback by it. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t say anything.

She frowned and gestured for one of her maids; the girl came back soon and whispered in her ear. Madame Jin scowled. “And you helped him?”

“He is my father,” Meng Yao said, not looking up.

She huffed, clearly irritated, and seemed about to start scolding, but then she gave a thoughtful hum instead.

Face hidden by the floor, Meng Yao smiled.

“You came here,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s your father – but you came here. You disapprove?”

He didn’t say anything. It’d be easier for him if she put together the pieces herself: he’d certainly been dropping hints hard enough, these past few weeks.

“Of course you would,” she continued, and yes, there it was, there she was, going down the path he wanted her to go down. “Your mother…you never stay late at the banquets where there are entertainers, or else you’re always in the kitchen, in the back, helping work on something. You never indulge yourself – I’d wager you despise them all, don’t you? Filial child…and it wasn’t as though your mother could say no, working where she did.”

His mother, when Jin Guangshan had visited her, had been a famous talent – she’d been educated, conversant in books and excelling in music. She still had her pick of clients, back then, though she’d been getting older, over twenty; she’d placed her hope on Jin Guangshan, deciding to bear his child.

Her hope had been misplaced.

“Still, it’s intolerable – for all that you’re a bastard, you’re still his blood; it’s a disgrace on the Sect’s name to be treating you like his personal procurer!”

“Madame Jin, please punish me,” Meng Yao said. “He will undoubtedly ask again; how can I say no? It’s not as though I have your power to find and punish him.”

“But you do,” she said, eyes bright as she leaned forward. “You were a spy once, weren’t you? I heard you talking about it just the other day, how you sent reports back to our side – whenever he asks this of you again, send me word at once. I will interfere, and it won’t be your fault at all.”

Good, very good. But not quite enough –

“But Madame!” he protested. “He will surely guess –”

“I’m not so foolish as to reveal it,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Though it would be better to make it rare…how about this? I’ll assign you to accompany A-Xuan. The old man wouldn’t dare ask you to do such filthy things when my A-Xuan is around!”

Perfect.

“You’re too kind, Madame Jin,” he said. He didn’t much like procuring whores for his father, that much was true, but it wasn’t what he was trying to avoid: no, what he wanted to avoid was his father’s laboratories, devoted to figuring out the Yiling Patriarch’s methods of demonic cultivation – to steal the man’s power for himself.

That, too, was something Jin Guangshan wouldn’t dare to involve him in if Jin Zixuan was around.

Though – speaking of that, he really needed to resolve the issue with Wei Wuxian. It had been rather a big fuss after he’d stolen away the Wen sect remnants; his father was campaigning to pressure the Jiang sect to eject him or else take responsibility. The other sects were watching.

Something would have to be done.

What would a good person do?

Meng Yao honestly had no idea. Perhaps this was something he could consult Lan Xichen for.

-

Meng Yao had always known that listening was the best way to get someone to talk. A face that didn’t seem to judge, a tilt of the head that suggested attention – his mother had shown him all the tricks to manipulate people.

He just hadn’t realized there were so many people willing to sign up to get manipulated.

“Perhaps it would be better if you told him,” he told Wei Wuxian gently. With Madame Jin’s help, he’d started taking regular trips away from Koi Tower; one of them had been to volunteer to accompany Lan Wangji on one of his trips to the Burial Mounds, as a favor to Lan Xichen, and this time, he’d stayed behind to have a little chat.

His father had approved the trip on the basis that he was supposed to get information from Wei Wuxian – and he was, just not the sort his father wanted.

“You don’t even know what it is,” Wei Wuxian insisted, twisting his sleeve in his hands anxiously. “It’d break his heart –”

“And your distance isn’t? Think about how he’d feel if he found at later that you were keeping a secret from him, a reason to explain everything…that’d be worse, wouldn’t it?”

“Why would he need to find out at all?”

“Because of you, of course. As long as you live, it will be his fault if something happens to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers tensed. “His fault?”

“Naturally. Why are so many people willing to crusade against you? Shouting support no matter if they were involved or not, condemning you in vast numbers? It’s because he’s not on good terms with you, because his attitude never showed that your bond was too strong to be broken. In the end, even if the distance between you was because of your secret, don’t you think he’ll blame himself for all that happened to you?”

Wei Wuxian looked stricken.

“Whatever it is, you should tell him,” Meng Yao coaxed. “I’ve spoken with Sect Leader Jiang, you know –”

Only briefly, but if this scheme worked, he’d insist on having several talks like this. The man’s mind was a gigantic mess, and it would do him good to have someone help him put it back in order.

That’s what a good man would do.

That the shape of that order would also accrue to Meng Yao’s benefit – a pleasant side effect.

“– His words are harsh, but his confusion and pain are evident. He’s suffering every day, rebuilding that sect of his, all alone…”

Wei Wuxian jumped up. “Don’t you think I want to be there to help him?” he demanded. “But I can’t just abandon the Wens, either!”

Meng Yao opened his eyes wide. “Is that the choice?”

Wei Wuxian turned to him, his eyes narrowing – a little dangerous, but then, Meng Yao had played Wen Ruohan between his fingers. What was one Yiling Patriarch in comparison?

“Lianfeng-zun,” he said. “What are you saying? There’s another choice?”

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Meng Yao said. “My first loyalty is to my father. I’m sure you understand.”

“Your father,” Wei Wuxian mused. “Your father…his was the first voice to condemn me. And yet he’s always sniffing around my heels, demanding that I hand over my Stygian Tiger Seal…he’s not just scared of my power, is he? He wants it specifically. He wants – what does he want?”

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Meng Yao said.

“But there is something.”

Meng Yao shrugged, indicating his helplessness. “I owe my father filial loyalty,” he reminded Wei Wuxian. “But I also have a duty to the world – it’s very difficult to walk the line between one’s family and one’s conscience.”

Meng Yao didn’t actually have a conscience, but he’d heard things.

Wei Wuxian grabbed his hands. “Lianfeng-zun, I owe you for this,” he said, very seriously. “Thank you.”

And then he rushed out the door – probably headed to the Lotus Pier first, and then to Koi Tower. There were all sorts of clues left out for him to find.

The scandal when his father’s little experiments in demonic cultivation were discovered would either bring down Jin Guangshan or rehabilitate Wei Wuxian – maybe even both, and just in time for Jin Zixuan’s wedding.

Meng Yao got up with a stretch.

It was really surprisingly nice being a good person.

-

Meng Yao had always thought he would need to be at the top to be happy – that it would always boil his blood to see Jin Zixuan placed above him, through nothing more but an accident of birth.

More recently, though, he’d been rethinking his position.

“Sorry, Sect Leader,” he said, face fill of smiles – sincere, for once. “That information’s confidential. I couldn’t possibly betray your confidence by taking a look at it.”

Jin Zixuan’s glare was distinctly weakened by the giant circles under his eyes: he looked like a sleepy panda. “I know for a fact that you helped Sect Leader Nie with this sort of thing.”

Meng Yao put his hands over his heart. “I wasn’t yet aware –”

“A-Yao! Please! I don’t even care what you do with it!”

Meng Yao finally broke and laughed. “I can’t do it,” he said, and Jin Zixuan almost whined like a sad dog, “because I already did it yesterday. You just need to sign these papers and then you can go get some sleep before your baby wakes up.”

“Is there some promotion I can give you?” Jin Zixuan wondered, looking deeply relieved and already half asleep.

“I’m already your second-in-command, and I more or less run Koi Tower,” Meng Yao said. “The only thing I don’t need to do is get yelled at by people who are unhappy with my decisions, which is your job.”

“Why do I somehow feel like I got the short end of the stick?”

“No idea,” Meng Yao said blithely. “It’s your inheritance, after all.”

Their father had been dead for four months – sadly, the whole mess with demonic cultivation hadn’t done the trick, though it had effectively rehabilitated Wei Wuxian’s reputation; once he’d been cast into the same bucket as the Yiling Patriarch, it had been in Jin Guangshan’s best interest to make the entire cultivation world accept demonic cultivation as a valid, if dangerous, cultivation path.

Meng Yao had had to take other measures.

It couldn’t really be considered patricide: he’d been so understandably distraught to find out what his father had done to poor Madam Qin, and what that meant about Qin Su, all coming out right before he’d been prepared to marry her – any good person would have done as he’d done and told Qin Cangye.

It was a good thing that he hadn’t followed his initial instincts to bed Qin Su before the marriage. He’d considered it, since a pregnancy would make it impossible for Qin Cangye, that old stiff-neck, to back out at the last minute, but he’d reminded himself that a good person wouldn’t do it that way.

A good person would go to his two sworn brothers and look sad about the whole dilemma until Lan Xichen, at least, was fooled into going to offer an encouraging word.

Nie Mingjue thought Meng Yao was being especially full of shit and claimed that he would never get involved in any romantic matters whatsoever. His later invitation for Sect Leader Qin to go night-hunting with him shortly thereafter, a casual demonstration of the power behind Meng Yao, had nevertheless helped just as much than Lan Xichen’s friendly chat – the carrot and the stick.

In the end, of course, it all came to nothing marriage-wise, but it’d gotten his father out of the way, under such circumstances that made Meng Yao look good, Jin Guangshan look wretched, and put Qin Cangye deep into Meng Yao’s debt – and even got him several months of pampering by two very apologetic and sympathetic sworn brothers.

An even better result than the marriage, however sweet Qin Su had been.

Since then, he’d finally had the chance to do what he wanted, especially given how busy Jin Zixuan was busy with his new son, who had colic, and his troublesome brothers-in-law that were always visiting.

Jiang Cheng had in fact greatly benefited from his chats with Meng Yao – he’d had a lot of problems, as Meng Yao had suspected, starting with his childhood and continuing through some fairly staggeringly bad parenting choices on the part of the last generation of Jiangs, and it did him a great deal of good to have a comforting ear that could manipulate his emotions to a more even keel. His relationship with Wei Wuxian was slowly being repaired, though the latter’s new relationship with Hanguang-Jun was causing some bumps in the road, reawakening those tender feelings of jealousy and possessiveness and fear that he was once again losing his best friend.

(Lan Xichen, in contrast, had been thrilled. Apparently he’d known for years and hadn’t once let on to anyone. And something about – loquats? For once in his life, Meng Yao didn’t want to know.)

Actually, Meng Yao was more proud of the stroke of brilliance he’d had in sending Su She to be Jiang Cheng’s escort for a season – Su She had always wanted respect more than anything else, hating any and all people of higher status (most of the world, unfortunately), but being forced to listen to Jiang Cheng’s entire mess for several months was enough to make even him feel bad, no matter the difference between their positions.

He’d even finally agreed to remove the curse from Jin Zixun.

No, it was all working out very well: he had all four of the leaders of the Great Sects and the Yiling Patriarch supporting him, he could dump all the parts of being in charge that he didn’t like on Jin Zixuan’s lap, and anyone who even thought about calling him the son of a prostitute would very quickly find themselves rethinking it at the end of little Xue Chengmei’s knife or Mo Xuanyu’s teary eyes, depending on which approach they thought would be more effective.

Now that was an unlikely pair to have adopted each other as brothers: Xue Yang had been the most talented demonic cultivator in Jin Guangshan’s little nest, a twelve-year-old delinquent from Kuizhou (Wei Wuxian had thrown a fit), and Mo Xuanyu was the emotionally unstable, cowardly cutsleeve son that Jin Guangshan had brought back specifically to irritate Meng Yao. Meng Yao had deliberately forced them to share a room in the hopes that they would balance each other out, and it had worked surprisingly well.

Of course, Meng Yao still had no idea what to do with either of them, especially ever since they’d developed crushes on two travelling cultivators – apparently Xue Yang was also a cutsleeve, just much less obvious about it – but he supposed it didn’t really matter. He’d figure it out.

Eventually.

He had time - time and good company, now that the Song of Clarity was helping calm Nie Mingjue’s endless temper. Lan Xichen had promised to teach it to Meng Yao as well, so that they could play it for Nie Mingjue together, and then switch out - Meng Yao had suggested that Nie Huaisang learn it as well, both to help calm his older brother and to ensure that he would be able to calm himself in the inevitable future when his own cultivation got to be too much for him.

In the end, it seemed respect was something you could live on after all.

[lottiebagley]

Happy Together

I really recommend listening to Happy Together by Gerard Way while you read this xx

*****  Fred sat on his bed watching as she moved around his empty dorm, fixing her hair and makeup and redressing. They were in no way official all though neither of them was seeing anyone else. The problem was that she was in Ron's little group and the drama that came with their relationship didn't feel worth it to Fred. That's what he had told her when she has asked and she had to force herself to not let the comment hurt. He hadn't meant that she wasn't worth it even if that's how it sounded and felt, he simply meant that he'd rather just be together in private and not have everyone talking and looking.

"So, we should talk about the ball," He comments, he had no right to dictate who she went with, she wasn't his girlfriend, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"What about it?" she questions, stepping into her skirt, needing to be ready to head to the library to study with Hermione in 5 minutes.

"Well, obviously we can't go together," he comments, she tries her hardest to ignore the sting in her chest. She thought that now, after six months of seeing each other he would finally come around to letting their relationship be public.

"Obviously," she states, Fred is immediately cocking his head to the side, immediately noticing the slightly hurt look on his face.

"But I don't want you going with just anyone," he adds, she turns to look at him, re-buttoning her shirt and she easily catcher her tie when he throws it to her.

"What's your point here, Freddie?" she questions, hands rolling her skirt up to make it shorter as she scans the ground for her school jumper.

"We should pick each others dates," he decides, he figured the raging jealousy he feels in his chest every time a boy even looks at her will hurt a lot less if he gets to pick her date.

"No," she speaks in a harsh tone causing him to look abruptly "If you're embarrassed of me and don't think I'm worth arguing with your little brother that's fine-"

"Hey, you know that's never ever been why I wanted to keep us private. I'd argue with Ron every day for the rest of my life for you and I am the furthest thing from embarrassed of you," he protests, his heart hurts that she ever thought that's how he felt.

"If you don't want to take me to the ball that's fine Fred, but you don't get to dictate who I go with. If someone asks and I like them I'll say yes," she announces, he looks slightly dumbfounded as he stares at her, tugging her jumper over her head and moving towards the door and slipping out of his room without another word. His usual quick kiss goodbye gone.

Fred knew that so far three boys had asked her to the ball, the same boys had coincidentally all ended up pranked in some way, shape or form. He knew she has turned them all down. He also knew that Dean Thomas was planning on asking her and that her friends often teased her for fancying him, unaware she was seeing Fred. Supposedly she had fancied him since their second year, at least that's when the teasing began.

With this on his mind and a worry that Dean Thomas was going to come in and swoop the girl he was pretty sure he was in love with away from him, he rushed to change and exit the room to find Lee and George, if he was going to ask her to the ball it needed to be big and public. It needed to rid her mind of any thought that he was ashamed or embarrassed of her.

**

Fred Weasley didn't get nervous, but standing outside the great hall two day's later, knowing the rest of the school were eating breakfast he couldn't help it.

When he had explained what was happening to the boys, George had come up with the idea that Fred should write her a song and perform it at breakfast. Fred was a good singer and between the three of them surely they could pull something together. So, for 48 hours the boys wrote a song, added Lee and George some backing vocals and a bit of dodgy looking choreography, enchanted a load of instruments to play the music and now it was time.

"Ready Fred?" George questions walking towards him from inside the hall, having managed to load the instruments into the hall and his them around before breakfast had started. Fred nods, glancing to his brother.

The twins enter the hall, Lee immediately grabbing his wand ready to enchant the instruments to begin playing from his seat next to Angelina. Fred takes a deep breath, marching towards the table and jumping onto it. Immediately, the whole hall is looking at him

"Mr Weasley, get down from the table this instant!" Professor McGonnogall begins to scold

"I will get down, just give me one minute. There's something I have to do," he announces.

He's vaguely aware of Harry and Ron laughing opposite the girl who is watching with curiosity.

The instruments start and Lee and George climb onto the table behind him. The minute he makes eye contact with her she starts to blush, knowing whatever is coming is about her.

'Imagine me and you I do I think about you day and night It's only right To think about the girl you love And hold her tight So happy together'

He starts singing, aware the whole school are watching as he walks down the table towards her. Ron and Harry are looking around wildly, trying to work out who in the world he could be singing too, Hermione is sat with a knowing smirk on her face next to her best friend who is blushing wildly but sat with a small smile on her face. George and Lee follow him up the table, supposedly doing backing vocals but acting more like hype men.

"MR WEASLEY! GET DOWN NOW!" Snape is shouting loudly but is shushed by the other teachers, everyone seemingly enjoying the performance, there's an air of intrigue in the hall, people wondering who it's all for.

If I should call you up Invest a dime And you say you belong to me And ease my mind Imagine how the world could be So very fine So happy together

His singing continues and he's so close to her now that he can hear her giggling mixing with the rest of the laughs and cheers in the hall. He steps over a serving plate of pancakes, smirking when she catches eye contact with him and blushes even more, looking at her lap and letting out a laugh, biting on her lip to stop herself from smiling.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you For all my life When you're with me Baby the skies'll be blue For all my life

George and Lee add in some ooo's as he sings. He finally arrives directly in front of her. Smirking at the loud gasp that leaves Ron's mouth at the realisation it's his friend being sang to. Ginny lets out an excited squeal from a few seats down as she loves the girl, chatter and laughter fill the hall as they all realised exactly who this all for, more than a few girls feeling jealous of the entire thing.

Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

The excited chatter get's impossibly louder as Fred begins to join in with George and Lee's ridiculous dance moves, smiling when he hears the laughter she lets out, vaguely aware of Ron's demands that she can not date his brother and Hermione telling him to shut up. Even the Slytherins are enjoying the show, despite it being a Weasley, and are laughing and dancing along with the rest of the school.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you For all my life When you're with me Baby the skies'll be blue For all my life Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

Loud cheers erupt from the hall when he holds out his hand when he jumps from the table squeezing into the small space between her and Hermione, who shuffles up the bench to make space for him, his arm wraps around her shoulder as she laughs looking at him, eyes shining with happiness as she smiles and he feels his heart melt at the sight of her looking so at ease at his side, he squeezes her tighter to him as he continues to sing, taking a look at George and Lee who are now doing some kind of two person robot Mexican wave, clearly improvising.

Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

He leaps back onto the table, extending a hand to her that she takes with slight apprehension in her eyes, allowing him to tug her up onto the table behind him. She laughs as he spins her around, dipping her and twirling her over the table, enjoying the little giggle she lets out. If it were anyone else she'd never have taken their hand but something about Fred made her feel so comfortable that she would go wherever he asked.

So happy together How is the weather So happy together We're happy together So happy together Happy together So happy together So happy together

The song draws to a close and with his hands on her hips he tugs her towards him, she smirks up at him as he beams down

"How is the weather?" she questions

"Not a lot rhymes with together and I had to act quick before someone else swept you off your feet," he shrugs, she giggles, vaguely aware that the whole school is watching them

"So what do you say? Go to the ball with me?" he suddenly seems to loose all his confidence

"Of course I will," she smiles. He grins brightly and crashes his lips to hers, unbothered that the whole school is watching, the hall erupts in cheers that he's pretty sure is started by Dumbledore himself.

She pulls away after a few seconds, aware of the whole school watching

"Did you notice that I said I love you?" he questions, a whisper unheard by anyone but her amongst the cheering

"I did," she confirms

"Cause I do, love you I mean,"

"I love you too Fred," she beams, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before hopping down from the table and he follows, falling into the seat next to her.

"You can't date Y/N. She's my friend and you can not just come along and steal my frien-" Ron begins his protest but Harry slaps him round the back of the head, effectively silencing him as the hall returns to normal.

"And that boys," Fred starts, glancing between the dateless Harry and Ron "is how you ask a girl to the yule ball,"

"Got one of the good ones," George remarks, falling into the seat opposite Fred

"I got the best one," Fred corrects, smiling at the blush flushing her cheeks and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

**

Masterlist

[inkdemonapologist]

Been a lot of emotions in recent BatIM Call of Cthulhu events!!

Prophet Sammy slipped and sank into the mud in the swamp and immediately went into DROWNING FLASHBACKS from his inky death back in the Star Pools. Stunningly, panicking and thrashing around did not help and in fact only got him more stuck.

Henry was the one to pull Sammy out, which is a bit weird, because the Prophet didn’t actually... expect them to... want to help him??? Henry was also leaking gold blood out of his face from doing some intense magic (???), it’s fine, don’t worry about it.

Prophet Sammy ran out of ink, which he has to drink periodically to keep himself from changing back into normal Sammy, and JOEY... GAVE HIM SOME OF HIS OWN INK SO HE COULD HAVE A LITTLE MORE TIME???? Both me and the Prophet were absolutely flabbergasted.

We rescued Jack’s old boyfriend Peter, that newspaper editor guy from before! He was trapped in another world and Jack managed to guide him back to this one and we all pulled his reflection out of the Lake and fought off the eldritch horror that tried to follow him out to our world! THERES A LOT HAPPENING IN THIS GAME

As always Boo has the summary posts for a more detailed description of events, but if you’re here for out-of-context quotes IVE GOT YOU COVERED, here’s some quotes from Session 7:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Henry] *rolling dice* Some nice dice clacking for the auditory experience, [Sammy] Call of Cthulhu ASMR [Joey] Some clacking dice, some screaming,

[GM] But you are on the shallower end of it, so you're not sinking. You are SUPER muddy. [Joey] That's fine-- [Jack] Noooo!! Jack's sweater!!!!!

[GM] Jack's turn! Make a luck roll, Jack! [Jack] *rolls terribly* ...hrrMMM... [GM] Okay. We'll just. We'll just keep that. For later. :)

[Sammy] Sammy is scrambling and panicking and yelling! [GM] Make a strength check! [Sammy] Cool, I'm good at those. *rolls* Success! [GM] You strongly thrash yourself about waist-deep in the mud. [Sammy] [Sammy] OKAY, um, [Sammy] That is. Uh. Worse. Than it was previously, yes? [GM] Yeah. :) [Sammy] OKAY, COOL,,, JUST CHECKING,

[Sammy] I don't think it's good when the GM says "Fun!" I think that's bad.

[GM] *flipping through notes* Where are your stats. Where are your stats, sir. [Sammy] "Young man, where are your stats?" [Jack] If he didn't do his homework, then all his stats are zero.

[Henry] Nope. I'm gonna accept my fate. Henry's goin' to space. [GM] The angel doesn't try to claw Henry, but it does pick him up! He's in the air. [Henry] Bye guys!

[GM] A gunshot does come from the brush also, and it hits the angel next to the one that's got Henry. [Henry] (Thanks, Norman!) [Jack] Does Norman have a gun??? [GM] Norman's not going to go into a cult swamp without a gun! What kind of crazy person would do that?!

[Sammy] I'm sorry if we lose your hat, Jack. [Jack] D: Nooo it's not his hat! [Sammy] Yeah I know, well I'm sorry if we lose it. [Joey] Yeah, sorry. [Jack] Noooo he needs to give that back! [Joey] well then he should wAKE UP!!! [Sammy] Love the idea that Peter later comes through here and finds his own hat discarded on the ground and is like, OH NO, JACK! [GM] Make another luck roll, maybe it's still on. [Jack] Okay dice! This is the ONLY thing I need you t-*sound of dice bouncing off the desk* whoOPS--

[Henry] *still held aloft by eldritch horrors* I'm guessing I don't hear anything either [GM] No, you're just having a nice little roller coaster ride.

[Joey] Ohhh... I guess we wouldn't need to breathe in space, huh. [Joey] ...AM I BREATHING???

[Joey] What time is it... are we at like, 8:30, 9ish? [GM] Well that's highly specific! What happens at 8:39?!

[Joey] Joey's still not willing to let random cultists carry Jack, unless they can do something to convince him??? [Sammy] I feel like the main convincing tool at this point is GUNS? Pointed at us. I think that's the main thing.

[Jack] I guess Jack is the imposter, since he's not doing human things like "breathing"

[GM] And shove all of you into a hut! With Norman-- no, that's right, he didn't get caught, I keep forgetting, his Hide skill is higher than I thought it was. Norman's still at large! [Jack] NORMAN, IS LOOSE, IN THE SWAMP [Joey] What crimes will he commit!

[Jack] This is why you don't smear your weird glowing blood on symbols that are known to watch!!!

[GM] They probably did take away a lot of your cooler stuff. [Sammy] I didn't have any cool stuff. I just had a coat. [Joey] You had ink. [Sammy] *muttering* I wasn't going to mention that that was in my coat.

[Joey] Joey is going to grab Sammy's face... and give him some of his ink. [Sammy] *stunned* Oh...! [Joey] We don't need a passed out Sammy!! [Jack] Only ONE unconscious man in this party!

[Jack] How has Cthulhu AU made "Joey feeds Sammy ink" wHOLESOME in some way?!?

[GM] They've got him in a robe now, and they've painted that yellow sign on it -- possibly in Henry's blood, because why not! [Joey] Excuse me, you did not get license to use that; I'm going to sue you in court now, [Jack] Unethically sourced! [GM] ...Did you just call Henry's blood your IP?

[GM] *startled laugh* my husband just said "Intravenous Property,"

[GM] The other prophet guy seems to be having a grand old time. It is even-odds whether he might just look over to see if Sammy's looking, just to smirk at him. [Sammy] oHHHHHH BOY. I hate this guy! I hate him. [Jack] Okay, well, I wanna-- [Sammy] *still going* I know who I'M sacrificing. [Jack] --Sammy, no. [Joey] You want to make a GOOD sacrifice, not give him trash. [Sammy] ...*sighs* Yeah, yeah, you're right... [Jack] You don't want to give the Masked Messenger a McDonald's burger.

[GM] It's Pete! [Sammy] Oh! Sammy vaguely knows who this is. [Henry] I'm gonna make a check to see if Henry recognises this guy, in the heat of the moment. [Jack] In the Pete of the moment. >:3c [Sammy] *groans* Why would you do this. Everyone was being so well-behaved.

[Sammy] I'm gonna... I'm gonna wait. Gonna be actually, a little bit smart. Trying out this new thing.

[GM] One of the angels is definitely heading your way. [Jack] Oops. [Sammy] ...what if we just... close the door.

[GM] And a sanity roll from Joey and anyone else that is watching this. [Sammy] *sarcastic deadpan* Oh No. I'd Better Look Away. *scoffs* Why would I NOT want to watch my lord work?

[GM] It does a d8 + damage bonus, which, I don't think Joey has one. But it does a d8. [Joey] Does Bendy have one? [GM] No! Bendy's damage bonus is NEGATIVE TWO because he's a tiny cartoon character! You don't want his damage bonus. [Jack] You attack and there's a squeaky hammer noise,

[GM] Peter doesn't seem to have a reflection. [Sammy] ...Do we? [GM] Yeah [Sammy] Okay. That's cool, that's nice, luv 2 reflect. [Jack] *whispering* Peter vampire???

[GM] Sammy thinks this is a spawn of the Yellow King, something that happens to people who dabble too much in his worship. [Sammy] Again, MORE reason why this guy is an idiot and trusting the wrong god! [Sammy] ...Sammy knows all this stuff and is still like "yeah, but the Masked Messenger is cool! I'll definitely be rewarded for my service!"

[Jack] Jack didn't learn how to ASTRAL PROJECT for Pete to get eaten by something!!

[Sammy] Did they steal our ink??? [GM] Looks like they poured it out. [Jack] Pour one out for their FAKE LORD,

[Jack] Rescued. From a cult. By a second, different cult! [Joey] Our cult is COOL, though. [Henry] the coolt

[retvenkos]

No, I am not done talking about aging up the characters of the Grishaverse, thank you very much...

(Spoilers for pretty much all of the Grishaverse!)

I’m going to come right out and say it - I don’t think aging up all of the characters was the smartest move. I think the Grishaverse is compelling, and the characters can be very complex, and part of that leans on the ages of the characters. I’m going to be talking about why I think (at least some) of the characters should have retained their same age, or at the very least, shouldn’t have been quite so aged up.

But first, I understand some reasons as to why they aged up characters, so I’m going to state them outright, to advocate on their behalf (but also, I can try my hand at debunking some of these. For funsies):

1. Mass audiences will be less interested if the main story feels too Y.A. - most adult audiences won’t want to watch that genre.

(This is a very fair argument! However, when comparing Shadow and Bone to other popular (non Y.A.) fantasies, Shadow and Bone is very Y.A. Compare Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings to Shadow and Bone, and you can see how the Y.A. genre permeates the text. There are character moments and story beats that Shadow and Bone utilizes that are characteristic of the Y.A. genre. It was created with that audience and expectation in mind. No matter how hard the show tries to divorce the source material from it’s Y.A. roots, it is still very much a Y.A. story. The second most important plot line is a romance and not the implications of how society created the Darkling and how society Must Be Fixed if we ever want to move on and win the war. Those problems of the wider Grishaverse are better tackled in the Nikolai Duology (which still stumbles), and the Nikolai Duology feels like a different story/genre because it’s tackling something different. Shadow and Bone is an inherently Y.A. story, and really, it is the later books in the Grishaverse that deviate from the tropes and traps of the genre.  No matter how you dice it, the original trilogy is very much a Y.A. story. Lean into it, and you might be better able to mess around with the fluidity of the genre, all while your audience knows what the story is, and what will come of it. Alternatively, the writers could have gotten deep into the text and tried to bring up the deeper problems of the story (most of those grey areas) to make it less trope-like, but that would require an almost complete retelling, which we did not get. Too often, Y.A. stories are divorced from the genre when they are adapted, but it’s not done in an organic way that looks at the text itself, and it feels very off when viewing. Just let Shadow and Bone be what it is. If you want a longer rant on this, hmu.)

2. Some very serious things happen to these characters! To write about it is one thing, but to watch a 17 year old Alina be manipulated in this way or to watch a 19 year old Genya be used in this way is dark and very much Not Okay!

(Yes! Watching all of the terrible, terrible things happen is bad enough on it’s own, and when you de-age Alina from 25 to 17 and Genya from 30 to 19, there are some very big consequences! It’s not nearly as inviting or Okay to view! Anyone would be rightly horrified! Especially older audiences! Well, forgive me for being so blunt, but that is part of The Point. Part of what makes all of this so cruel and so unfair is that these characters are young - they are barely no longer children - and that is what heightens the injustice of it all. Alina is a teenager who is tasked with saving the world and freeing an oppressed people! And she doesn’t want to do it! That’s a lot to handle, right? Arguably, by keeping their young ages, you are better breaking out of the Y.A. adaptation trap because you are making a statement about how young these characters are and how unfair all of this is. Y.A. adaptations always age up the characters for palatability, but by keeping them young, you are making it more grungy and more frightening without even changing the source material!)

3. Okay, but adult audiences don’t want to ship teenagers. How will we get them to watch?

(This argument is probably the most sound, and it makes the most sense! Netflix wants to get the widest audience they can - they know teenagers who read the book are going to watch it anyway, so they need to get the older crowd invested. An easy way to get people invested is to get them hooked on a romance plotline. Then you have to watch the show to see how it progresses! It would be hard to do that if adults feel uncomfortable telling 16 year olds to kiss already. Another problem is that Shadow and Bone doesn’t have an adult cast - they have the young ones and that’s about it. Compare that to Game of Thrones (or, if you want me to stop with GOT references, shows like Cobra Kai) where there are 2+ generations - fans have the older group to ship, and the younger group to wish the best for. This is a trap of the Y.A. genre. They are Kids, but they are Not. In the book, this works fine, as their ages aren’t mentioned often. In fact, in the books, they read like competent 25 year olds, except for key moments when they show their age, which usually feels bittersweet (the Six of Crows Duology is much better at this than Shadow and Bone, but I digress). So what do we do? Well, D*rklina fans aren’t going to like this, but I would argue that we keep Alina and Mal aged down, and the story subliminally changes from “the love triangle” to “coming of age while dealing with abusive relationships”. In fact, this is another great way to divorce it from the Y.A. genre, which was already a goal we had in mind.)

✧ *:･ﾟ

Now, let’s move onto character analyses... everyone’s favorite.

In this section, I’m going to break down some main characters from the Shadow and Bone Netflix show (and some upcoming characters, just for the hell of it) and I’m going to advocate for changing their ages. At the end, I’ll give you a rough ballpark estimate for what I think they should have been.

(Also, I just want to address that I loved the actors chosen for the Netflix show, and this is in no way an attack on them. They did great, and they’re performances were amazing. This is me talking about an issue the showrunners made, not the actors.)

Alina Starkov

First, we get to talk about the lovely Alina Starkov. Jessie Mei Li is 25 years old. Her book counterpart is 17. That’s a whopping 8 year difference where a lot of growth happens. Alina Starkov in the books is doing her best for a girl who is told that she is going to save the world. She doesn’t have a lot of experience outside of the orphanage and the army, and so her knowledge of how Grisha are treated is ignorant at best, and malicious at worst. She doesn’t see nearly all of the suffering that is happening in the world, and for the most part, it stays that way. She knows the Fjerdans don’t like them, she knows the Shu are bad too, but she doesn’t really know the extent. She really gets a good look at it in the 3rd book, but for a large part of the series, Alina doesn’t really know what she’s up against, and her age is an easy explanation for her ignorance. A 17 year old growing up in a remote orphanage hasn’t had the greatest education. A 25 year old Alina has less excuses.

(There’s also a lot to be said about how Alina mostly... doesn’t care about the wider issues plaguing Grisha. This is decidedly Bad. I’m going to say this once, and I will say it many times again, but generally, audiences are more okay when a younger character does Bad Things because they reason they’ll learn in time. Thus, for a show, it’s strategically better to make these characters younger. Saying this doesn’t mean I support Alina’s disregard, it just means I recognize how it is utilized in storytelling.)

But why is her ignorance important, you ask? Because, Alina misses a key point of why the Darkling does what he does. To her, his actions of expanding the Fold are very black and white. Even when she’s with him, she refuses to see how it’s justified. Thus, a younger Alina is a little more understandable.

If Netflix was planning on focusing on how the Darklings desires are good but his methods are wrong, keeping Alina aged up is fine because she could be the voice of those concerns. However, I don’t really see that happening, so aging her up seems cheap.

Furthermore, part of the injustice of Alina’s character is that she is a child tasked with saving the world. She is a teenager who is being worshipped as a Saint, and who is going to have to martyr herself for the good of the world. It’s unfair. It’s cruel. Alina being 25 doesn’t somehow change this injustice, but to the average viewer, seeing a 17 year old child dying for the good of Ravka - dying because she’s the only one who can stop the villain - is more emotional and more disturbing.  There’s your grit, Netflix. It was already handed to you.

And I know, Ben Barnes (who plays the Darkling) is 39! It would be extremely uncomfortable to watch him fall in love and manipulate Alina! Again, I’m apologizing to the D*rklina shippers, because that is The Point. The Darkling is hundreds (perhaps thousands) of years old. That is why his talk of “eternity” is so compelling. He has felt it. He has lived it. When he tells Alina that he will break her, it should be greatly disturbing!  It would change the feeling of the story completely if Alina looks like a teenager. It would be a story about survival - not of romance. And while survival is definitely a Y.A. dystopian or fantasy trope, depending on how it’s handled, it could be markedly different from its predecessors.

However, book Alina is a minor, and that doesn’t sit right with me. Thus, I would make Alina 18, or 19 at the most. She should still very much be a teenager.

Malyen Oretsev

Mal is the next character we get to talk about, and I’m sure you have an idea about what I’m going to say. Archie Renaux is 23 and his book counterpart is 18. That’s only a five year difference, which isn’t that damning, but still leaves some problems.

One thing a lot of people disliked about Mal in the books was his temper and the way he expressed his frustrations. Now, while it’s true that viewers tend to be more forgiving with male characters having bad attitudes, this attitude problem could still be something that viewers will dislike in later seasons. This problem is only larger when you factor in an older age. Already, I expect people to complain about Mal’s temper and his inability to vent his frustrations in a healthy way (avoiding talking to Alina, blowing up, having a sour mood, having violent or explosive tendencies). This is only going to get worse when another argument added is “he is a grown man. He should have learned how to cope by now.” This argument isn’t completely nullified by a younger age, but it is made a little more understandable to the audience. (Again, in no way am I justifying these unhealthy behaviors, nor am I saying it’s okay when younger men do it, I’m just saying that viewers on a whole are more likely to excuse this behavior from a younger man - a sad reality, but a reality nonetheless.)

And as for his tracking ability, which is the best out of everyone in the world, he is gifted primarily because he’s an amplifier. At the end of Ruin and Rising, it’s noted that he can’t track nearly as well as he could because the world doesn’t hum with life in the way it used to. The in-world explanation probably also explains the ease with which he can pick up new skills. Thus, Mal doesn’t need to be aged up for skill reasons.

So, I would make Mal 19-21 in the series. He can be the slightly older than Alina, and everything works out how it should.

The Darkling

This one is going to be really quick - I think the age they made the Darkling was fine. Ben Barnes is 39 and we really don’t get an answer as to how old the Darkling is in the book (although he’s older than 400 years old, because the Fold was created 400 years ago). 

It’s worth noting that in the books, the Darkling isn’t described as being much older than (a 17 year old) Alina, but having him be markedly older than Alina was a smart move for subtext, but also for the presence that the Darkling has, and the reverence with which people regard him. The Darkling has power - I can’t imagine a 17 year old boy having the same effect as a grown man.

I have no beef with a 39 year old Darkling. I wouldn’t age him down much more, but I also wouldn’t make him much older, either.

Genya Safin

Genya Safin is another character I feel like should be addressed. Daisy Head is 30 years old. In the books, Genya is 19. Now, Genya’s character is an interesting one, because arguably either age suits her character. Throughout the series she’s shown to be more mature and capable than Alina, and while she places importance on the cliques of the Little Palace (which was poorly shown in the show, imo), she was raised in this environment from very young, and she’s at the bottom of the ranking. Her investment in it is justified. Sadly, I think more viewers would be moved by her story of sexual abuse if she were younger, but what happened is a tragedy and it was wrong no matter how you dice it.

Her age is one of the few I’m neutral on.

However, she and Alina are shown to be very close in the book, and while that doesn’t carry over as easily in the show, I think it would be nice to place her at least a little closer in age to Alina, but still keep her a little older so that she can offer her advice and it doesn’t feel preachy or unearned.

I would place her around 19-26. She has a lot of room for her age, because it’s not vital that she be any specific age. 

David Kostyk

I’m very briefly talking about David because Luke Pasqualino is 31 and David in the books is 19-20. I aged down Genya, and since they are love interests, I would like them to be in a little closer range of each other.

However, David is a very gifted Fabrikator - so much so that he changes the war considerably in later books - so I still want him to be older than the average cast.

I would place him around 24-29, and mostly, it would be based around the age of Genya. I wouldn’t want him to be 29 if Genya is 19. That’s just the ballpark range.

Zoya Nazyalensky

The final Shadow and Bone character I’m going to talk about is Zoya because she’s really important later in the Grishaverse. Online, I could not determine exactly what Sujaya Dasgupta’s age is, but the two ages most commonly given are 19 or 21. Zoya in the books is 19-20, so Sujaya is one of the most faithful castings in terms of age. 

I think it’s important that Zoya is around the age of Alina. Not only do they have a shared love interest in the form of Nikolai (and the Darkling in the show, which I absolutely hate), but they also have a rivalry for the Darkling’s favor (which isn’t romantic, but about sTATUS), and having her be markedly older than a teenage Alina would be weird, in my opinion.

Furthermore, Zoya’s character is pretty closed off and (dare I say) one-dimensional in the original Shadow and Bone trilogy, so keeping her younger isn’t going to make her any less believable. She’s not particularly wise, so keeping her young won’t be an issue.

Finally, she has a romantic plotline with Mal (even if it doesn’t go anywhere), so we want to keep her within range of Mal’s age, too.

I would place Zoya at 19-22. Thus, I am in agreement with the showrunners!

Nikolai Lantsov

A character that has yet to make an appearance in the show is Nikolai Lantsov, who is stated as being 20-21 in Siege and Storm, and the rest of the Shadow and Bone trilogy. Nikolai hasn’t been casted yet, but I decided to put him here because why not?

Nikolai, interestingly enough, is a character I would like to age up, however, only slightly. Nikolai is a very accomplished character, as anyone who has read the series knows, and while he does have the grooming to be that smart and accomplished, he is able to outsmart the Darkling and other older characters on multiple occasions, and him being so young just seems off. Of course, I understand why he is young - his love interests are, and he certainly has his moments where he’s boyish and unprepared - but these reasons pale in comparison to all of his talents and accomplishments.

Taking all of this into consideration, I would put Nikolai at 23 or 24. It’s a minor age change, and it would really just make him more apt to grow into his role. He’s still young enough to where people can underestimate him, but he’s old enough to justify having such smarts and charm. The only argument I can see going against this is his love story with Alina, seeing as she’s 18/19, but I think there was a lot that went into his pursuit of Alina. At first it was political, but after that, it became about how Alina was someone who challenged him and knew him for all that he was. It was less of a romance and more of a friendship that lended itself to a nice opportunity. It could have been more. It wasn’t. Plus, the age gap isn’t egregious.

Tamar Kir-Bataar and Tolya Yul-Bataar

I’m briefly talking about these twins, because they are originally 18-19 in the Shadow and Bone Trilogy, and I would like them to be older overall. Tamar and Tolya are some of the most competent characters in the Grishaverse, and having them be the same age as Mal and Alina is off, in my mind.

I would like them to be at least Nikolai’s age or older, so 23-27.

✧ *:･ﾟ

Finally, we’re on to the crows....

Kaz Brekker

Ah, yes. The Bastard of the Barrel. His is a character I was actually really glad to see aged up, before watching the show. Afterwards, I have some more complex thoughts. Freddy Carter is 28 years old and Kaz, in the books, is 17. 

Kaz in the books is very competent. So much so that he outsmarts everyone he comes up against - characters who are older than him and often have military strategy. Furthermore, he is ruthless. He is probably one of the darkest characters in all of the Grishaverse, and all of that is placed on the shoulders of a 17 year old. To make a comparison, he and Alina are the same age when their stories take place (Shadow and Bone for Alina, and Six of Crows for Kaz). I don’t know a lot of young celebrities to make the comparison, but he’s a teenager. He’s a child. Aging up Kaz in the show was something I was very much on board for. Kaz is a ruthless killer and an expert thief, and making him older was a smart move, imo. A Kaz in his 20′s made more sense.

However, when we meet Kaz in season one of Shadow and Bone, he’s very much in his fledgling state. Not a single plan of his goes as planned. He is foiled at every step, and the most gruesome thing he did in the show wasn’t bad, when you compare it to thing Kaz has canonically done. Rumors say that the Six of Crows arc is going to pick up in season two, and while I hope it doesn’t, I covered that particular argument far more in depth in another post and won’t address it here. Whether or not I think show Kaz is up to snuff, I think they aged him up too much and they depowered him too much.

Part of Kaz’ secret weapon was that he was wicked smart and crazy competent, but people underestimated him because of his age. They figured he didn’t have nearly enough experience to be as ruthless and cunning as he was. They were clearly wrong.

I think that Kaz in his 20′s makes sense, but Kaz in his late 20′s does not. Especially when you factor in the fact that he was so epically unsuccessful in the show, the extent to which they made him older wasn’t doing him any favors. It made him less “Dirtyhands” than he is.

So, final say, I would have made Kaz 20 or 21 in Shadow and Bone. We’re de-aging him so he still has time to grow, but he’s not crazy overpowered at 17. Furthermore, in a perfect world, he has time to age between Shadow and Bone and the events of Six of Crows.

Inej Ghafa

Inej is played by Amita Suman who is 23 years old. In the books, Inej is 16. In an interesting turn of events, I don’t find Inej in the books to be terribly overpowered so much as she is just really talented. 

Inej in Six of Crows is hesitant to kill. She’s smart and watchful, and she’s a really great spider. She’s given backstory to explain all of this, and it makes sense. At most, she is mature for her age, but that is also given a pretty damn good reason. She has to be. 

The few reasons I could see as to aging up her character is to make it less awkward for the romance between her and Kaz, as well as make the crows group more cohesive in age, with fewer outliers, both of which I am not against. 

I would make Inej around 18 or 19 and call it a day.

Jesper Fahey

Jesper is another character that I largely have no problems with. Jesper is played by Kit Young who is 26 years old, and in the books, Jesper is 17. 

In the books, Jesper is an extremely talented marksman, but part of that (even if he doesn’t know it or doesn���t want to acknowledge it in the books) is because he is a Grisha Fabrikator and he is using his gifts to bend the bullets he shoots and aims them where they need to go. His character wasn’t particularly overpowered in the books, and as for his personality, in the books he acted the most “teenage-like,” but in the show, he retained his same youthfulness without it seeming out of place, so that isn’t particularly damning.

For Jesper, I don’t mind aging him up or making him younger. Both work. 

However, he has a romantic plotline with Wylan (who I will get to eventually), so we wan’t to keep that in mind.

Final say, I would make Jesper 18. He’s the same age as (or slightly younger than) Inej, and that sits well with me.

Matthias Helvar

Oh, boy. If you’ve been on my blog long, you know this is the character that started this whole rant. Because here’s the thing: Matthias is an incredibly complex character. And part of that complexity comes from the fact that Matthias doesn’t know about anything beyond what Fjerda has taught him. He is heavily indoctrinated and heavily ignorant, and his struggle is what makes him such an interesting character.

Matthias is played by Calahan Skogman who is 28 (in my other meta, he was 27, but birthdays, y’know?). In the books, Matthias is 18 when Six of Crows takes place. That’s a whopping 10 year age gap. As you can imagine, so much happens in 10 years time. Now, with Matthias, we’re going to look at his life a little more in depth so that you can really understand how this 10 year gap affects his ignorance.

Matthias’ family were killed by Grisha when he was a child. We don’t know how young, but that doesn’t really matter, because either way it’s traumatic. Soon afterward, he starts training to become a soldier. Now, just when drüskelle are allowed to be fully initiated at Hringkälla is unknown, but I’m guessing the age would be at youngest, 14 (although, it’s probably closer to 16, but I’m not arguing about that right now). Grisha are supposed to be the most dangerous type of person. The Fjerdans are not going to put 12 year olds out there to fight them. So, a roughly 14 year old Matthias is going on expeditions to catch Grisha. When he is 17, Matthias meets Nina. At this point, he has only been a full drüskelle for 3-ish years. Regardless of how many Grisha Matthias has captured, 3 years is a vast difference from his show counterpart, who is 28 and therefore (as a drüskelle since he was 14) has been capturing Grisha for 14 years. In fact, in the show, they give Matthias props for having been the one with the clever ideas for capturing Nina, which shows he has done this often.  After that, Matthias spends one year in Hellgate, making in 18 in the books and (eventually) 29 in the show.

So, why was it so important that I detail that for you? Matthias’ change of heart is prompted by Nina, a pretty Grisha. I’m not saying their bond is shallow, but if you are a man who has a nasty past with Grisha and has been hunting them for 14 years, having a pretty Grisha change your mind is a little shallow and a little unbelievable. Even though Nina saved his life, I think it’s a little hard to sell the substantial change of heart he has. On the other hand, if Matthias is 18-19, he’s still a hormonal teenager, and his feelings for Nina prompting some critical thinking makes more sense. Furthermore, Matthias is younger and more impressionable. It would be much easier to change his worldview, if he were younger.

All in all, I would de age Matthias to be 19-20. Slightly older than in the books to allow for Nina to be a little older than her book counterpart (which I’m about to get to.) 

Nina Zenik

Almost finished with my rant, we’re talking about Nina. Nina is played by Danielle Galligan who is 28 years old, and in the books, Nina is 17. 

Now, Nina Zenik is a capable character. She is a spy. She speaks multiple languages, she’s a talented Grisha, and she’s quite self-assured. All of that advocates for an older Nina, so that she may have time to hone these impressive skills. Furthermore, Nina is the most sexualized of the Crows. I wouldn’t mind her being older, and I’m sure general audiences would be in favor of her not being a teenager.

Nina is also a soldier and she has a very complex storyline in Six of Crows, and later. By all accounts, aging her up is not a bad idea. In fact, I quite like the idea that Nina is older. I agree that she should be aged up, just not to the extent she was.

If this were my world, I would make Nina 20-22. That would make her the oldest out of all of the crows, and I quite like that.

Wylan Van Eck

Wylan has yet to be casted, but he is 16 in the books, and pretty damn smart. He’s not street smart, mind you, but he’s a chemistry nerd and demolitionist, so he’s very competent. He’s still under his father’s thumb, but I don’t take that to mean he has to be young - abuse can affect you well into your life. He’s definitely a character more naive to the realities of the Barrel, but that can easily be played off as “the rich boy is out of depth.”

There’s nothing that explicitly needs him to be younger than an adult, although the argument for making him young amongst the crows is strong and still stands.

He has a love story with Jesper, so we want to keep in mind the fact that Jesper is an adult.

Wylan also has the tricky little storyline of him being tailored into being Kuwei, so in determining his age, we want to keep him in the ballpark of Kuwei. Luckily, he was tailored from a Grisha on parem, so truly, anything is possible.

For his smarts, his competence, and his love story, I think we should age him up.

All in all, I would make Wylan 18. It’s not far from his book counterpart, and I think it makes sense.

Kuwei Yul-Bo

Kuwei is another character who was yet to be casted. He is 16 in Six of Crows, and I would say he is the character who most shows his age. Kuwei may be wicked smart, but he’s a chaos gremlin who doodles in his notebook, pretends to not understand Kerch, and also renames himself to be nhaban - “rising phoenix” in Shu. He doesn’t scheme the way the rest of the crows do, and while this can be explained away by the fact that he’s not a criminal, there still seems to be something hopeful and youthful about his character.

He’s still a boy in mourning over the death of his father, and he’s currently one of the world’s most wanted. In Crooked Kingdom, he’s vibing in a tomb for the majority of the book. Kuwei is honestly such a fun character that I hope gets more complexity in coming Grishaverse content.

Kuwei is very similar to Wylan in that he’s wicked smart (although his dad is a scientist and they have worked together, so there is some in-world explanation) and he has a crush on Jesper (don’t we all?).

Taking this into account, I would make Kuwei 17 or 18.

✧ *:･ﾟ

TL;DR, the characters of the Grishaverse were aged up and I’m a little miffed about it. The reasons for aging them up are to detract from the source material being a Y.A. story, but you cannot separate a story from it’s genre. The story is inherently Y.A. because it uses story beats that are typical of a Y.A. story. It’s not just viewer expectation - the story is Y.A. The ages of the characters in the books are very young in some cases, but in the show they were aged up too much, imo. It detracts from the tragedy of them being young and forced to survive, and it adds very little in most cases.

✧ *:･ﾟ tagging @missumaru

[honey-dewey]

Game Night

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,722

Warnings: none

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

It’s game night in the Morales household. The boys and you all sit down with drinks and snacks and decide to play one of the most friendship ruining games on the planet. Who will win the cutthroat game of monopoly?

“Babe, can you get the door?” You shouted, hearing Frankie shuffle around the living room. “The boys are here!”

Frankie eagerly bounded to the door, almost falling on his face on the slippery wooden floors. He quickly righted himself and pulled the door open, embracing Benny, Will, and Santiago in one go. 

“Boys!” You said cheerily as they entered the house. “C’mon! I made dip, and there’s drinks in the fridge, and there’s also a secret dessert.” 

“If you weren’t married, I would get on one knee, here and now,” Benny said, pulling you into a hug. “You are the best!” 

You laughed. “Yeah? Let’s see how that holds up. I distinctly remember cleaning my carpets for a week after our last game night.” 

“Excuse you!” Will called from the living room. “Benny called me a dumb whore for charging him money! I couldn’t let that slide!” 

Laughing, you cleared away the coasters and remotes from the living room table, leaving it blank for tonight’s game. 

Frankie grabbed a box from the supply closet and set it down on the living room coffee table. The box in question was beat up and held together with packing tape, but the name of the game was still legible. Monopoly. 

“Are we playing teams?” Frankie asked as you all gathered around the table, you setting the snacks down and going out to grab beers for the boys. 

“If we are, I call Frankie!” You shouted from the kitchen. 

Will snorted. “You’re married. Of course you’ll be a team. Benny?” 

Benny fist-bumped his brother. “Hell yeah!” 

“And me?” Santiago said, amusement making his voice light. 

“Pope,” Frankie said. “Every time we play, you kick all our asses. You don’t need a team.” 

Santiago snorted. “Sounds fair,” he said. “Although, I would appreciate a partner to teach my secrets to.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. Ever since you and Frankie had gotten married, Santiago had been bugging you for a baby. You had no idea why he wanted you to have one so bad, but he did. 

“Pope, if I do end up pregnant, I promise you’ll be the second person I tell,” you said, leaning towards the table and grabbing your favorite piece. The horse and rider. “Right after my husband.” 

Santiago grabbed his piece, the battleship, and smiled. “Of course.” 

Benny and Will took their piece, the cannon, and you all set the pieces down. 

“Who’s rolling first?” Frankie asked, grabbing the dice and holding them out. 

Will rolled for his team first, getting a solid 8. Santiago went next, rolling a 10. 

“Good luck,” you said to Frankie, leaning on his shoulder as he rolled the dice. A quick count of the dots gave you an 11. 

“Fuck yeah!” Frankie said happily, scooping up the dice again. “We get to go first.” 

Nothing much happened for your first go around of the board. Everyone knew the strategy of ‘wait to see how the game would play out’ and that had led to plenty of long monopoly games. You and Frankie agreed on the light blue and pink properties, and managed to buy Vermont and Virginia in two turns. You also, after a quick discussion, bought Illinois when you landed on it, knowing that the reds and the yellows were Santiago’s strategy. 

Another go around of the board, and the strategies began to emerge. You and Frankie got two railroads and another two properties in your target area, and it seemed that Will and Benny were too busy trying to outsmart Santiago that they didn’t even realize you and Frankie were very slowly taking over half the board. Santiago, in true Santiago fashion, kept his strategy as hidden as possible, buying properties from the entire board instead of focusing on one area. By the time you’d all passed Go again, tension was still, surprisingly, low. 

That changed quickly. You and Frankie bought what was affectionately referred to as ‘the slums’ but was actually just the two brown properties with a lucky roll of snake eyes, and through a well timed chance card, Will and Benny ended up in jail, both agreeing that it was complete bullshit while Santiago laughed. 

“Houses?” Frankie murmured in your ear as he added the second brown card to your stack. 

You glanced at what Santiago had and what the brothers had. “Wait. Santi’s trying to edge us off those orange properties, but give it another go around. He’s got that last blue one, Connecticut, but we’ve got Illinois, which he needs. And I’ve got no clue what Will and Benny are doing.” 

Frankie nodded, taking the dice and rolling again, getting you two the last pink property. 

“I’m gonna go grab more food, anyone want anything?” You asked, standing and looking around. 

“Another drink?” Benny asked, holding up his empty beer bottle. 

You took it, scanning the table for anything else you could recycle. “Of course,” you said. “How about I bring out the prize tonight, hm?” 

The boys cheered. Monopoly wasn’t a game where you often congratulated the winner. In fact, half the time Frankie managed to beat everyone, you jokingly refused to kiss him. But tonight, you wanted to up the stakes. 

Grabbing another beer for Benny, you balanced a covered pie tin with your other hand and walked back into the living room, where Frankie was happily arranging what had been collected in Free Parking. 

“Boys!” You announced happily. “Tonight’s victor will be awarded the grand prize of,” you pulled the tin foil off the pie tin. “A homemade cherry pie.” 

Immediately, everyone went wild. You laughed, covering the pie back up and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “Shall we keep playing?” 

The game continued, a few more go arounds of the board securing the final few properties. You and Frankie had almost every property you wanted, along with three of the four railroads. 

“Uh, guys,” Benny said finally after you charged him for a railroad. “Team lovebirds are destroying us right now. How’d we let that happen? How did no one notice?”

You laughed, grabbing the dice and rolling them. “I guess we’ll be keeping that pie.” 

“Not if I can help it!” Santiago held up the final light blue card. “Suck it!” 

“Mhm, we’ve got that last red one,” you pointed out, moving your piece and reluctantly handing Benny and Will some money. “Whenever you’re ready to trade, we’ll be here.” 

Will whistled, pushing the dice towards Santiago. “Dude, that’s rough.” 

Santiago leaned forward. “Nah. I want that damn pie.” 

Not long after that, Benny and Will went bankrupt, much to their disappointment. However, it meant they could man the bank and they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire that would become your game. 

The game continued to drag on, neither you nor Santiago willing to back down. Money was exchanged, Will and Benny’s properties were bought, and houses were built. 

By the time anything interesting happened, you and Frankie had a solid chokehold on half the board. It was a war of attrition, a simple back and forth of the money. And then, by some miracle, you rolled the dice and landed on free parking. 

It was a crushing blow for poor Santiago. Suddenly, you and Frankie were up by almost five thousand dollars, able to afford a bunch of houses and, very slowly, you were able to drive Santiago to bankruptcy. 

“Damn!” He yelled, realizing he was done. “Good game, damn I cannot believe I lost.” 

You grinned, standing. “Pack all of this up. I’ll go cut the pie.” 

While the boys cleaned, you got five plates, putting a slice of pie on each one. Using old waiting skills and going very slowly, you carried all five plates out. 

“Jeez babe!” Frankie said, jumping up to help you. “Gimme some of those! You could’ve asked for help.” 

“I had it,” you reassured, sitting on the couch and sinking your fork into the pie. “Fuck, that is beautiful.” 

For the rest of the night, you and the boys ate, drank, and pulled out a deck of Uno cards to keep the fun going. Of course, Benny kicked all your asses, but he was the only one who ever actually strategized Uno. Everyone else enjoyed tipsy fun, laughing when someone got screwed and groaning when someone won. 

Eventually, some time well past midnight, you sent everyone to bed, or the couch in Santiago’s case. That included Frankie, who pulled you into your shared bedroom and grinned. “Babe, I got a question.” 

“Fire away.” 

Frankie came up behind you, putting his hands against your belly. “When are we gonna tell them?” 

“Tomorrow,” you murmured, resting your hands overtop Frankie’s. “I wanna watch Santi spit coffee out his nose.” 

Chuckling, Frankie led you to bed. “You’re evil.” 

The next morning, you gave each of the boys a coffee cup, smiling as you received sleepy murmurs. 

“Hey Benny,” you called, opening the fridge and peering into it. “You got any use for a perfectly good bottle of wine?” 

“Uh, why?” Benny asked, looking up from his mug. 

You shrugged. “Frankie’s not a wine guy and I can’t drink it.” 

“Yes you can,” Will said. “You drank a whole bottle with Benny last month.” 

“Bitch, I wasn’t pregnant last month.” 

As you’d guessed last night, Santiago choked on his coffee, coughing so violently that Frankie had to thump him on the back a few times. “What?” He yelled when he was finally able to talk again. 

“I’m pregnant,” you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Surprise. You’re all gonna be uncles.” 

Santiago fist pumped the air. “Hell yeah! I get a monopoly partner!” 

You laughed, doubling over the counter. “That’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“I have my priorities,” Santiago said with a smile. 

Benny stood, looking you up and down. “Can I touch? Please?” 

You shrugged, gesturing him closer. “Nothing to touch yet, but yeah.” 

Benny’s hand was warm on your belly, and he grinned at the expanse of exposed skin. “Hey,” he said directly to the baby. “I’m your uncle Benny.” 

“Ben,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re talking to a month old bean.” 

But now Will was beside you, and so was Santi, and there was Frankie behind you. Surrounded by your boys, you grinned. “I love this family.”

[lunnanunna]

Pummel Friends

STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU

Summary: It’s game night and Ollie really sucks at Pummel Party. (Feat. friends from Ateez, Dreamcather, Day6, and Seventeen.)

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @boss-baby-jongho @kimonmars @mythicalamphitrite @poutypoutybin @sunflower-0180​

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from a taglist.

A/N: Thank you guys for patiently waiting for me to write again! Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

Ollie sat back in her chair, munching on some chips while she waited for everyone to get online. Felix sat next to her, with his computer on and Discord open, just like hers was.

It was their online gaming night that they had with a few other idols. Parker had started it up, but didn’t know many people to invite, so Ollie took it upon herself to recruit people. 

Their main lineup consisted of her and Felix, Parker of Day6, Yoori, San, and Yunho of Ateez, Yoohyeon of Dreamcather, and Wonwoo of Seventeen. (Ollie wasn’t called Kpop’s Social Butterfly for nothing.) The group even had a group chat going called Pummel Friends, seeing as Pummel Party was their main game.

“Ooh, Noona! They’re logging in,” Felix grinned, sitting up in his seat.

Ollie sat up too, already smiling. She wondered who’d be the first to show up. When Yoori’s face appeared, Ollie squealed.

“Hiya, Unnie!” Yoori waved through the camera, “‘Sup Felix!”

“Yoori, my baby!” Ollie waved and Felix did too.

San and Yunho were the next ones to join. (Apparently Yoori had taken the faster computer, and the other two had to wait for theirs to boot up.)

Next came Yoohyeon and Wonwoo who came mere seconds from each other. They laughed when they realized that that was their fourth time that month.

“So now we’re just waiting for Parker,” Ollie nodded, eyes traveling to the time on the corner of her screen. It was half past eight, and normally Parker was the first one on, already playing some games as she waited for the others.

“Can’t we start without her for now? I’m itching to play,” Yoori said, bouncing in her seat.

“Soojin’s the one who set up the codes for each game,” Wonwoo said as he looked down at his phone. “She should be coming in soon. Apparently Sungjin-hyung had her on kitchen duty and she put it off for too long,” the rapper chuckled as he shook his head at his phone.

“Typical,” Ollie sighed, but smiled nonetheless. Putting chores off until the last possible minute was such a Parker thing to do.

“I did that last week. Hwa-oppa had me on bathroom duty,” Yoori grimaced.

“Poor baby,” Yoohyeon pouted. Yoori nodded and patted her own head, to console herself.

“You’re so dramatic,” San said rolling his eyes. Yunho laughed at the screen, but also turned to look at Yoori who was next to him and laughed. (Ollie always found it funny that those three and Felix and herself included, joined these game nights while sitting next to each other on their own computers.)

Ollie turned to look at Felix and smirked. He smiled back then reached over to grab her bag of chips.

“Yah!” Ollie shouted as the bag was plucked out of her hands. She watched as the Aussie evilly smiled at her as he ate.

“Yah, behave yourselves,” Wonwoo chided, but even coming from him it sounded weird and everyone laughed.

“What are we laughing about?”

Everyone looked at the screen and saw that Parker had finally joined them. She was aggressively lathering her hands in lotion.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Yoohyeon folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head.

“Forget about that, I want to play! Unnie send us the code!” Yoori demanded, once again bouncing in her seat. Ollie could see an arm reaching over to settle her. Judging by the way San was leaning in his seat, Ollie guessed it was him who was trying to calm Yoori.

“Uwah, Yoori’s feisty today,” Ollie said snickering as the rapper swatted San’s hand away and even threatened to bite him.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Yoori. There I sent the code over for Pummel Party,” Parker said as she finished typing something.

Ollie’s computer dinged and soon everyone was ready to play.

~

“Yah, Soojin-ah. Don’t make any rash decisions,” Wonwoo warned. It was Parker’s turn and she had gotten the rocket that would move her ahead. It would also take out anyone in it’s way. Wonwoo was in it’s way.

“Too late,” Parker said as she let the rocket fly.

“So mean,” Wonwoo whined, and Ollie could hear the pout.

“Yah!” Ollie cried out as she too was caught in the line of fire. “Why’d you take me out?!” As much as Ollie loved playing this game, she sucked at it and was always the target.

“Oops,” Parker said, though Ollie knew she was far from sorry.

“My turn!” Yoori cheered.

Ollie watched as Yoori’s avatar rolled the dice. Yoori cheered when she was able to advance to a chest. When she opened it she squealed.

“As long as she doesn’t unleash her bunny I’m fine,” Yunho said.

Yoori was notorious for getting a bunny that killed players. No one else had been able to get it except for her. San and Felix both came to the conclusion that she had rigged the game.

“What was that Yunnie? You want me to unleash my bunny?” Yoori asked in her most innocent voice.

“I just got chills from that,” Felix said.

“Same,” Wonwoo agreed.

“Yoori’s a little monster when it comes to gaming,” Parker chuckled.

“I don’t know why you guys are always so surprised,” Ollie added just as the screen loaded their next mini game.

Ollie’s jaw dropped at the cute yet maniacal laugh that only came when Yoori was winning or was about to attack.

“San-ah control her!” Wonwoo said.

“I would if I could!” San protested.

Ollie and Felix side eyed each other and laughed. Game nights were always the best. They were crazy, but so so fun.

“We need to stream our games. I’m sure our fans would love to see this side of us,” Ollie smiled.

“Yeah! Unnie, didn’t you say you wanted to open a Twitch account?” Yoori directed the question to Parker.

“Eh, streaming is more of Jae’s thing. I don’t wanna look like I’m copying him,” Parker said as she finished the maze in first. Ollie frowned as she fell off the cliff again.

“I think you should still do it. I don’t think anyone would think of it as copying. Many idols have Twitch accounts,” Wonwoo said as he came in second.

“I hate it here,” Ollie mumbled to herself as she made it a bit closer, but then fell right after.

“I mean, I guess,” Parker said.

“And you can have special streams where we join. Pummel Party with Kpop Idols,” Felix said. Ollie looked at him as he bounced slightly in his seat at the idea. When she looked back at the screen, she fell again.

“GAH! I’m done,” Ollie threw her head back and groaned.

“Seriously, Soojin. Go for it. Imagine people’s reaction when they see how evil Yoori is and how competitive yet bad Unnie is,” Yoohyeon said, laughing.

“Why?!” Ollie whined and Yoori just giggled. The American slid off her seat and landed on the floor, pouting.

“Noona’s slipped into Ollie Emo Mode,” Felix announced, side eyeing the older.

“Is she on the ground pouting?” San giggled.

“Shut up, Choi!” Ollie scowled.

“Okay, Unnie. We finished the mini game. It’s your turn to roll,” Parker said.

Ollie sighed dramatically and Felix watched with a smirk as she climbed back onto her chair. She rolled the dice then sat back as her avatar moved ahead.

“Bunny time!” Yoori cheered.

Everyone groaned and Ollie laughed as Wonwoo was the victim.

“Why is it always me?!”

“Suck it up, Oppa,” Parker giggled.

“Unnie, I’m sorry,” Yoohyeon stated.

Ollie’s eyes widened when she realized that it was meant for her. She didn’t even get time to process as the rocket took off and scooped her up, dragging her across the board.

“Why do I even play this game?” Ollie dropped her head onto her arms that were folded on her desk.

“Wah, Noona. Either you’re completely out of luck or you just suck,” Felix said.

Ollie peaked at him and watched as he smirked at her.

“I raised you! Respect me!” Ollie shouted. Before she could say anything else, another rocket came towards her, with Wonwoo perched on it.

“Oh come on!” Ollie threw her hands in the air and everyone laughed at her outburst.

Even though she was coming in dead last and it seemed like everyone was targeting her, Ollie still had fun. She always did when she gamed with them. She just needed to find a game that she was good at so she could win at least once.

Ollie’s Masterlist

[imaginealpha]

I saved this screenshot over three years ago.

Today, at 10:50 PM, I made a document titled "I'm gonna bang this out in an hour and submit it at 11:58pm because that's just how I am" and wrote this for my school's literary magazine. I submitted it at 1:15 AM, because that's also just how I am. It's a little long, but that's okay.

The screech of the train’s brakes cuts through the night air, startling you from your light doze. There aren’t many people in the station, and no one seems to want to get on. Except you, of course, because you want to be anywhere but here.

A man hangs out the window of the car in front of you. “First time?” he says, his eyes crinkling sympathetically.

“I’ve ridden the train before,” you snap back defensively.

“That’s not what I asked.” He gestures to the open door.

You lean against the window, making sure to keep your head off of it before the slight shaking gives you a headache. The buildings whipping by are quickly replaced by a rolling countryside. You suppose this is when you consider your place in the universe, as one does on the midnight train going anywhere, but you are content to just watch.

A voice breaks the fog in your mind. “I need your ticket, dear.”

An older woman stands by your seat, the only other person in the otherwise empty car. Wordlessly, you fish your ticket stub out of your pocket and hand it over.

She clicks her tongue as she punches a series of holes into it. “It’s a lovely view on the way, dear. Make sure to watch. I believe it’s quite a sight for the soul.”

She hands it back. When you turn back to the window, you don’t hear her leave.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you closed your eyes. When you force them open, a dusty brown expanse stretches outside the glass, the surface pockmarked with tiny craters. The sky is pitch black but twinkling with a million points of light, steady companions in an ever-changing eternity. A blue planet covered in faint green landmasses and swirling white clouds hangs above, too big and too small at the same time. For a moment, you feel a little less lonely.

In the distance in front of you, a single building sits, quite literally in the middle of nowhere. A neon sign blazes brightly, but you can’t quite make it out. Thin tendrils of smoke rise from the front, where a small group of young adults are sitting around in folding chairs.

As you watch, one of them throws back their head and laughs, while another one stands, holding an empty bottle to their mouth like a microphone. You can almost hear them. That could be you someday.

There is a young child across the row.

“How did you get here?” you ask, a little dazedly.

They wrinkle their nose. “That’s not a fair question. I rolled the dice, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat numbly. “Why isn’t it fair?”

“Because everyone rolls the dice, so you’re gonna get the same answer every time.” They shrug simply. “It’s the only way to get on the train, you know. You roll the dice, and if your number is low enough, you can choose to come on the train and roll again. It says so on your ticket.”

You dig out your ticket. It’s punched so full of holes that you can’t make out any of the text anymore.

“I didn’t roll the dice,” you hear yourself say.

The child just stares at you. “Of course you did.”

“Of course,” you say again, for lack of a better answer. “Where are they, then? So I can roll again?”

“That’s not how it works.” The child is rolling their eyes now, and you vaguely wonder if it is socially acceptable to use them as makeshift dice. (It isn’t, obviously.) “Ask me a more interesting question, please.”

“Who are you? Where are you from? And-” you twist around again to glimpse what is now a never-ending ocean rippling below the train, an electrical storm brewing on the horizon. “-where are we? Where are we going?”

“Everywhere. Nowhere. It’s hard to say, really.” They smile at you, something unreadable in their eyes. “I suppose a better answer would be anywhere. It’s up to you.”

“Me?”

Their smile turns sharp. “It really is your first time, isn’t it?”

The waves outside splutter in response. They go on and on and on and on, with no signs of stopping.

You can make out the thin glistening of water pouring softly down the cavern wall from the lights on the outside of the train.

“What’s it like, where you’re from?” the child asks.

“Pretty,” you say noncommittally. “Elegant, in its own way. Normal.”

They hum and swing their legs, gripping the edge of the seat. “And?”

You watch the walls of the cavern narrow in on the train, and a spark of nervousness flares inside you when you think of the train getting stuck. “Trapped. It was a nice place to grow up, but there wasn’t anywhere to go except where everyone told you to go. Sometimes, those places weren’t very special. Not to me, at least.”

“You have anywhere here.”

“I guess so,” you sigh. “The ride has to end eventually, though. I didn’t really think this through, so I have no idea what I’m going to do when we get to the last stop.”

“There’s only one stop,” the child says casually, “but think about what you want to do when you get there. It’ll be a whole new world for you, if you believe in it.”

Watching the tunnel widen again into a room full of gorgeous glowing crystals towering high above you, you think you’re starting to understand.

A lone streetlight stands outside, its harsh yellow light flickering on the ground. Silhouettes of people pass underneath like shadows, fading away into mist at the edges.

“They look like they’re searching for something. What are their lives like, I wonder?”

You square your shoulders bitterly. “They spend decades locked in a miserable cycle of work and expectations and exhaustion, with no real joy or expression left.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what society demands. That’s what people demand.”

The child surveys you curiously. “So they’re looking for emotion? All of them?”

All of them. The confirmation is on the tip of your tongue.

You remember the people outside the desert store. “Maybe not all of them,” you amend. “Some of them had higher dice rolls.”

“They all fade away in the end,” the child observes.

“But they’re brighter.” Happier.

“The dice alone don’t change that,” they remind you.

The streetlight dies.

“Can you rig the dice?”

“No,” the child replies. “But low numbers aren’t always a bad thing. If you add them right, you get a bigger number.”

The chunks of ice speeding past the window start moving backwards.

“Do you wanna play a game?”

You decide to humor the kid, for lack of anything better to do. “Sure. What game?”

“You stomp your feet like this.” They stretch their legs to the floor and pound a steady rhythm on the ground. “When I make this sound” - a series of clicks you can’t for the life of you figure out how to do with your mouth - “you knock against the window.” Another beat, their knuckles rapping gently against the glass. “And I’m gonna do my own sounds, and we’re gonna make a song. But you can’t step in the same place twice, or it’ll get boring.”

It takes you a while to get the hang of it. Before long, you are up and out of your seat, hopping across the car in an effort to avoid landing on the same spot you just stepped. The kid is singing a melody that shoots adrenaline through your veins, lights a giddy fire in your chest, and opens a haunting void in your throat all at the same time. You feel more alive than you have ever been in your entire life.

Here, dancing in the soft white light of the train, with a forest whispering outside and brushing the windows with gentle branches, believing in this seems easier than ever.

The child isn’t there when the sun’s rays spill over the horizon, tingeing the sky a pale pink. The country hills rise around the train again, tiny farms dotting the green. Roused from your deeper slumber, you lazily watch the early morning mist climb over the grass. Distantly, a mass of grey clouds hangs in the sky. If you think about it hard enough, they look like looming mountains. An impossible, majestic journey.

“We’re almost at the stop, dear.” The woman is back, speaking quietly. “I’ll take your ticket stub off your hands for you.”

You pull it out and give it to her. “You were right. The view was incredible.”

Her face softens. “It always is.”

The train finally pulls into the station with another screech. The doors slide open with a hiss, and you step back out onto the platform, breathing in the morning air. You take a moment to turn to the man hanging out the side window.

“Hope to see you again sometime,” he bids you, kind eyes now crinkled in a smile. “Next time, I’ll say ‘Second time?’”

“I look forward to it,” you agree with a small huff of laughter.

The ticketmaster gives you a weird look as you leave the station. “Were you in there all night?” he asks, perplexed. “Did your train even come by? There’s none on the schedule.”

You shrug. “No, it did. It was a round trip.”

You climb the stairs to the ground level and step outside. As you head home, you try to hold on to the feelings you found on the train. Looking for emotion, indeed.

Even when you don’t have an anywhere to go, at least you know there’s always another option. You’ll do what you do best: you don’t stop believing.

What do you think @writing-prompt-s?

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I See You Clearly Now

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.

Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I

Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-

Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)

It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.

And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you

I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)

Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.

For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.

The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.

Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-

“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.

Sam. Of course.

“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.

Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.

“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.

“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)

Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.

They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.

Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.

They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.

Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.

He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.

“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.

He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.

Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.

Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.

“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.

“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”

Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.

“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up  turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.

He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.

Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.

My God, she’s missed him.

Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”

“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.

“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.

“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.

“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.

“Okay.”

Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.

She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.

He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.

The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.

Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.

“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.

“What do you have?”

And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.

Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.

They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.

“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”

Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.

“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”

“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”

Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.

The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.

“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

*

A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.

He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.

It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.

“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.

“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.

“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.

“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.

“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”

“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.

“Thank you, Sam.”

                                                          ****

Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.

Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.

While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.

They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.

“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.

“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because  this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.

Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.

Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.

Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.

They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.

“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”

“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.

“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”

“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.

“Your word against mine!”

“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.

Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.

Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.

“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.

“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.

Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.

She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?

Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-

And she kisses him.

Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.

Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.

Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?

“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”

But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.

Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.

Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.

She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.

“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.

“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.

“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall  on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.

They smile.

                                                           ****

The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.

She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.

It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.

Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?

Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.

Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.

She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?

This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.

In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?

Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.

She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.

*****

A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple.  I should know all this by now. *huff*

please tell me what you thought of this!

Forevers:

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Sam Stuff:

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