#edit: that’s not even mentioning the fact that wille made an effort to be nice to marcus and actually want to move on and date other ppl

[catradoraism]

when edvin said wille was selfish this season and he couldn’t defend his actions i was expecting wille to do a lot worse??? there’s literally nothing he did this season that i wouldn’t call unjustifiable or selfish

[xwing-baby]

Living The Dream (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

For #WriterWednesday hosted by @autumnleaves1991-blog​

Summary: A new house, dog and a baby on the way, Javier’s life couldn’t get any more perfect... its a dream come true.

Word count: 1.6k (good things come in small packages)

Warnings: Angst (cus duh), blood and injury description, mentions of pregnancy, dog death, hardly edited.

Masterlist

—

A tiny little house in the country, with a dog and a child on the way, was not how Javier thought his year would end but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

In the chaotic and dangerous life he led he never thought he would settle for more than two minutes let alone marry someone. You’d snuck up on him, coming out of nowhere to drag him into domesticity. Drag is the wrong word because he willingly went despite how much he pretended to drag his feet. He fell into it comfortably, he was even the one to suggest the house in the first place. You were happy in his apartment in Bogotá but Javier traded you a dog and you couldn’t say no.

A house, a girl, a dog. All he had ever wanted. Everything he swore he did not deserve but he could not imagine anything else now. Everything felt a little more manageable when he could come home to you. His own little oasis away from all the devils that haunted him in Bogotá or Medellín .

Javier planned to show Steve the new house on the drive back into Bogotá . You’d moved in a few weeks ago and everything was basically unpacked now, Javi was desperate to show off to his partner and could barely wipe the smile from his face as he pulled in.

The house was an old farmhouse, covered in iconic white plaster and red tile. The surrounding farm land had been sold off years ago, but left the house with a sizable garden around it to do whatever you wanted. There was enough for the baby to happily grow up and play in when the time came, for now the dog just chased rats through the long grass.

It was a mess when you bought it, but you were handy enough to get on with decorating and fixing up holes in walls while Javier was away working. He loved that part. Though he never admitted it, he always worried about you when you were working in the city. He never knew where you were until you came home. It was a lot easier to keep you safe, in his mind, with you at the house all day. You had done a fantastic job. For someone who claimed to have never even painted a wall before, the house was looking nice. It was becoming a home.

He called your name as he entered expecting to hear your music floating through the house. Instead he was met with silence.

“Must be asleep,” Javi said to Steve, “Pregnancies kicking her ass already,”

“Still can’t believe you’re gunna be a dad, man,” Steve clapped him on the shoulder, “I’ll get Connie to give y’all some baby books when she comes over,”

The two men chatted about the house, the baby, and everything else that had once seemed so out of the question for Javier but was now commonplace. He pulled beers from the fridge, cracking each open before sliding it across the patio table to sit and enjoy in the sunshine. They didn’t have anything to get back to urgently. The stop was justified and needed.

“Where’s that mutt of yours?” Steve asked looking around. In the weeks before the house was liveable, Javi had kept the dog at the apartment and used the Murphy’s as dog sitters whenever needed. Steve was excited to begin with but became a little more ambivalent when he ate his shoes one day. He was very happy when you moved him out to the house permanently.

“Must be with Y/n, they’re inseparable at the moment. In fact I will go check on her, she’ll be pissed if you leave without her seeing you,” Javier emptied his bottle and stood up. Steve chuckled and nodded.

Javier hadn’t been around the house as much as you had. Every time he had been you’d been close by making some kind of noise, a radio on somewhere in the house playing music with you singing along to it. He wasn’t used to it being quiet. It made the whole house seem so much bigger.

He walked upstairs to your bedroom, noticing the photos you had put up while he was gone. Simple wooden frames held photos from your wedding, photos of your family, and his favourite photo of you and him, taken by Steve candidly on the first day you had met. No one knew then just what would come from that one conversation but he was so happy it had led him here.

He pulled himself out of the fond memory and continued along the hall to your shared bedroom. The door was open, sunlight streaming in through half drawn curtains, the entire house was still. He smiled to himself, knowing that behind the door would be one of his favourite sights. He did not doubt that he would find Ringo, the dog, and you curled up on the bed. As much as Javi protested that the dog couldn’t sleep in your bed he knew you let him in as soon as he left in the morning.

Javier called your name again, listening carefully as he crept into the room. A full laundry basket sat on the floor, underwear and socks scattered the wooden floor boards. The drawers were open. You never left things untidy like that. Javier wasn’t the most untidy person in the world but you kept everything pristine. You wouldn’t just take a nap mid task. He frowned and touched the door to push it open.

“Peña!” Steve suddenly called urgently from downstairs. Javi knew that tone, instantly putting him on alert. You could wait for a moment. Javier stopped and turned back, leaving the door as it was and jogged back downstairs.

He came outside to see Steve, white as a sheet with grief written across his face.

“What is the-,” Javier started as he walked towards his partner. Steve brought him around the side of the house and Javi looked down and saw what was bothering him, “Oh fuck,” Javi swore the entire world stopped in that moment. Poor Ringo, shot in the head where he stood around the side of the house, just left without a care on the ground.

“I found him like that I swear! I am so sorry man,” Steve quickly explained. Javier wasn’t listening, couldn’t hear anything but alarm bells, his mind only thinking of one thing. You.

In a second Javier turned and ran back inside the house, picking up his gun from the kitchen counter where he’d left it. Steve followed quickly, keen on his heels. Javier knew exactly where to look, running up the stairs three at a time. He barrelled into your shared bedroom, praying that you were asleep and the dog was just an accident.

If his world had slowed at the sight of the dog the entire universe had stopped now. 

He couldn’t move his feet, mouth agape in total shock at the sight before him.

There was blood everywhere. On the bed, on the walls, even on the ceiling. Three bullets marked the walls behind the headboard. So much blood. He didn’t understand how he had not smelt it when he was outside a few moments earlier.

They had not been kind in your death, three shots to the stomach meant you did not die quickly. You were sprawled out on top of the sheets, still in your pyjamas. The white shirt you wore, Javi’s shirt, was now deep red, soaked through. There was a handprint dragged over the landline phone on your bedside table, glass and book knocked over in your effort to call for help. You hand still reached for it, so close yet so far.

Steve heard his cry of agony and ran in. He saw you, then Javi, and his heart sank. You were dead, there was nothing he could do now but he had to get Javier up. He pulled at his shirt trying to get him to move but was only met with violence as he ripped himself out of Steve’s grip away.

“Javi,”

“Javi,”

“Javier! Wake up!”

Javier’s eyes finally opened, his chest heaving and covered in sweat he was dazed for a moment before he finally looked at you. Your heart broke at the sight. He looked at you with such terror in his eyes, you didn’t have a chance to say anything before he grabbed you and pulled you in tight to his chest.

“It was just a dream,” You comforted him, “It’s okay,”

He took a deep but shaking breath, taking in the scent of your hair. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. It felt so real.

Slowly, he let you go and sat up wiping his hands over his face to clear the tears on his cheeks. He looked around him. He was in his apartment, three am on the clock. There was no dog, no baby, no new house. No body. It was just a dream.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, sitting up with him and putting a hand on his shoulder, lightly rubbing his warm skin. He shook his head.

“It was just a dream,” He said softly.

The reality was he couldn’t afford to give you that vulnerability yet. He couldn’t let you know just how much he liked you for exactly the reason his dream had shown him. He was dangerous to be around. If you stayed, while it would be nice for a while, someone would pull the rug out from underneath you both eventually. It could only end in disaster. He would rather keep you at a distance, emotionally at least, so when that day came it would maybe hurt a little less.

He settled back down again, pulled you closer with your head on his chest. He could have you for now, like this, and let his imagination run wild with ideas of a picket fence future. But, to protect you that was all it could ever be. A dream.

—

A/n: I don’t know what is wrong with me... I am sorry Javi one day I will write something nice for you but today is not that day.

tagging: @autumnleaves1991-blog @hunters-heathen @beskarbabs @wille-zarr​ @all-hallows-evie

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Sixteen: The Seventh Book

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,803

TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE!!!!! BEWARE!!!!

A/N: thank you everyone for reading this fic i love you all. one chapter left to go. i am so sorry for what follows.

MASTERLIST

~

Your eyelids were so heavy it was almost impossible to open them. The chair you were in was cold and hard against your back, the discomfort prompting you to wake up a little faster.

Then your surroundings forced the memory of what had happened into your mind.

It was a dark metal room with a single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. Across the room on the wall were several closed metal hatches. Although you couldn’t make out much more. After all, your eyes were still partially closed and the dim light of the room made it even harder to see.

A small gasp next to you alerted the presence of someone else in the room.

Turning your head — with immense effort — you saw Spencer Reid slouched in the chair next to you, hands tied behind his back, slowly coming to.

“Spencer,” you said, voice quiet and strained. But he seemed to have heard judging by the way his eyes snapped wide open and he began to writhe in the chair.

Grunting harshly, he finally got his arms untied, jumping up and running toward the back of your chair and pulling off the rope, leaving your wrist burning slightly from the scratch.

Quickly analyzing the situation, Spencer firmly pressed against each of the four metal walls, ensuring that there was no way out. Then, when he was sure none of the walls would give, he started ramming his elbow against the metal slots in one of the walls.

“Spencer!” you had found your voice suddenly at the thought of him hurting himself. Strangely, you had just noticed that the two of you were only wearing your underwear. Even your bra had been put back on. Although he was wearing a watch you’d never seen before with a tight leather band that squeezed his wrist.

His gaze snapped to you, a determined look in his eye with a fire behind it that sent a spark through you.

“Where are we?”

It was a stupid question and you knew the answer, but you still had to ask. Spencer attempted to soften his expression but to no avail.

“I’m sorry.”

The words hurt on a whole new level. There was so much meaning behind them. They confirmed the fact that you had indeed been kidnapped and taken to some sort of torture chamber, they signified that he had failed to protect you, and they broke the pact you had to never apologize to one another.

There was a crackle and heavy breathing filled the room, the sound coming from a minuscule vent in one of the corners of the room.

Spencer stepped between you and the vent, reaching out a hand behind him to make sure you stayed behind him.

The breathing hesitated and after a moment, someone spoke.

“Hello, Y/N.”

The voice was so familiar. You knew you knew it but you didn’t know from where. The memory was just out of reach and it kept slipping through your fingers.

Spencer, however, had frozen, presumably recognizing the voice. Your hand moved to his shoulder of its own accord, finding the skin there to be freezing cold.

The voice from the vent chuckled.

“I understand that you and Spencer have become quite attached lately.”

You looked at him, unsure whether to respond or not. He glanced at you over his shoulder and nodded stiffly.

“Ye—ahem—yes, we have. Why?” To recognize the voice, you needed to keep him talking.

“Hmm. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go for each other.”

There was a whooshing noise and one of the four slots in the wall shot open, revealing a small hidden space.

“I’m sure if you can’t figure out what to do, Doctor Spencer Reid can help you.”

And then it clicked. And it all made sense. 

How he’d found your address, “Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—” “Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee.”

How he’d known which hotel you were at, “Whatever. Gives me more time to prepare for a cute date with a hot barista. Or . . . the other way around.”

Even how he knew you were at the cabin, “I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

All because “ . . . the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

“Tom. . . .”

Spencer looked at you sorrowfully as the voice chuckled through the vent.

“Very good . . . Honestly, I’m disappointed it took you this long to figure it out. I mean, it was pretty obvious. And so easy to get so much information about you! But! But, that's beside the point. You have a task I expect you to begin. After all, time is running out.”

Spencer reached into the hole in the wall, withdrawing a stopwatch, an electric hair clipper, and a small Exacto knife.

The stopwatch had two minutes and thirteen seconds on it, counting down slowly.

“What are we supposed to do?” you yelled at the wall, holding up the timer as if he could see it. You don’t know, there might be a camera, you thought to yourself, wrapping an arm around your bare stomach.

There wasn’t a response though, just the sound of the stopwatch clicking quietly.

“Y/N . . .” Spencer spoke from behind you. “It’s the seventh book.”

Frantically trying to remember the order of the books in your nightstand, you realized what the clippers and knife meant.

The Handmaid’s Tale, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Telltale Heart, The Great Gatsby, 1984, A Clockwork Orange, and . . .

The seventh book was a very old and very rare edition of The Gift of The Magi.

“So we have to choose . . .”

The watchband on Spencer’s wrist was too tight to slip the knife through without cutting through his skin. And your hair would take much longer than two minutes to cut with a knife and clippers.

Without a word, Spencer took the exact-o knife and plunged it into the skin around his wrist, wincing in pain as he cut through the band.

“Spencer, no!”

But the watch fell from his hand to the floor, dripping with blood, Spencer’s wrist sliced open neatly. The wound was superficial but it looked like it hurt. He collapsed to the floor, dropping the knife and you rushed to his side.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded weakly, putting pressure on the cut.

“Very interesting . . .” Tom’s voice echoed around the room and you felt your stomach fill with rage like never before, spinning around and throwing the clippers at the wall with all of your might.

“We’re not going to play your fucking mind game!”

“Y/N,” Spencer whispered from the floor. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

The answer to your question came in the form of an ear-splitting siren, the noise resonating around the room, forcing its way past your eardrums, giving you an abominable headache.

The noise suddenly stopped and Tom spoke again.

“It is your choice whether you play or not. But consider that a preview of the punishment for refusing to. And trust me, there’s worse punishments than that.”

The second hatch slid open.

Head darting between it and Spencer on the floor, holding his wrist, you opted to fetch the next items.

There was another stopwatch, this time with five minutes, two small slips of paper, and some kind of device transmitting footage of two people in a poorly lit room, strapped to chairs similar to how you had been moments ago.

“What the fuck is this?”

The light in the room came on, showing the people in the chairs to be a man and a woman. You didn’t recognize either of them, and, judging by his face, neither did Spencer.

“Oh no.”

You read the slips of paper.

Man and Woman, they said.

We have to choose one.

“We have to choose one.”

Spencer looked at you shaking his head, so overwhelmed by the fact that the two of you were in this situation.

You scrambled, unable to deal with the thought, “What if we—“

“—I’m sure the punishment will be worse if we don't choose one. Most likely, he’ll kill both of them. Statistically, men die younger than women and they can’t bear children. But women have a higher pain tolerance and—“

He was talking himself in circles, trying desperately to come up with a solution to an impossible problem.

“Spencer, this is something you can’t reason. We just have to pick one.”

You couldn’t believe he was only twenty-six. His eyes bore the weight of someone much older.

You forced a weak laugh that tasted terrible on your tongue, “Eenie Meenie Miney-Moe?”

He chuckled weakly. “No luck, I know you land on whichever one you didn’t start with.”

“Me too.”

“Time’s running out,” Tom reminded you.

Your face fell, all hints of a smile gone.

“The man.” You gaped at Spencer who had piped up just enough to make the decision.

There was a pause, then a dark figure walked into the room onscreen, brandishing a gun and aiming at the back of the man’s head.

The muffled sound of a gunshot rang out, making you and Spencer jump as the man went limp in the chair and the feed cut out.

Bile rose in your throat and you ran to a corner of the room to throw up.

“Very interesting,” Tom repeated, his voice sparking disgust deep in your stomach.

“Why are you doing this?” you begged, reaching out for Spencer who seemed to be doing a bit better judging by the fact he could now stand and his wrist was no longer gushing blood.

“I like watching the way you think.”

The now-familiar sound of the hatch opening brought you back to the situation at hand, trying desperately to get the image from the screen out of your mind.

Spencer reached into the hatch and pulled out two more slips of paper and another stopwatch.

The screen flicked back on, showing two more people in a dark room, another man and woman. The room was still dark so you couldn't make out much more.

You looked up at Spencer, confused, but his face had gone white as a sheet and he was staring at the pieces of paper.

“No.” Spencer ran to the vent, slamming on the wall. “No! Ahh!” shouting in pain when his wound made contact.

Tom didn’t say anything so you approached Spencer, snatching the pieces of paper to better understand why he was so angry.

The room on the screen lit up the moment you read the papers. This time it didn’t say man or woman. This time there were two names.

Steve and J.J.

Spencer’s blonde coworker and your closest friend were slumped over in the chairs on-screen, wriggling against their restraints. All breath left your body, your heart stopped in your chest.

“TOM! Please don’t do this.”

The desperation seeped into your voice pitifully. 

“Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Y/N,” Spencer stepped between you and the vent again, holding your shoulders. You suddenly felt how wet your eyes were. Strange how you hadn’t even realized you were crying.

“I . . . I can’t.”

Being forced to decide who lives and who dies was difficult enough to break anyone’s spirit. But this . . . this shattered yours to the core.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer said, “I can do it.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tom chided playfully, voice muffled through the speaker. “You’ve already chosen twice, Doctor. I think it’s Y/N’s turn, don’t you?”

“Look, I can make the decision. You don’t want to put her through too much, do you?” Spencer’s voice was soft, but the way he was gripping your hand suggested he felt otherwise. “You wouldn’t do that to her.”

“I suppose you’re right. Though, while I do care for her, it is her turn. But don’t fret! You can make the next decision together.”

Your eyes were locked on the screen, watching as Steve and J.J. came to, becoming rapidly aware of their situation and struggling against the bindings. Spencer gently squeezed your hand, showing you the time on the stopwatch. Fifty seconds left.

There was no right decision.

J.J. had a child, a husband, a family. Steve had no one. Steve had you. 

There was no right decision. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a wrong one.

“Steve.” You hadn’t said it out loud, just mouthed the word letting the breath flow out of you.

Then, realizing he couldn’t hear you, you repeated yourself.

“Steve.” It was barely a whisper but it was the loudest sound in the world.

Actually, strike that, the loudest sounds were the footsteps entering the room and standing behind your friend, holding a gun to his head.

Tom’s voice came back over the intercom.

“I need you to say it.”

It took every ounce of strength not to fall to the ground and burst into tears. The only thing keeping you upright was fear. Pure terror. You couldn’t say it, but if you didn’t they’d both die.

“Kill Steve.”

You closed your eyes before the gunshot went off, knees giving out and collapsing to the ground, feeling Spencer fall with you, trying to keep you as upright as possible.

“Hey,” he grabbed your head, forcing your gaze to him, his dark brown eyes dark with rage. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Tom’s voice made your stomach contort.

The fourth and final hatch slid open.

“I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” your hands were trembling harder than your voice as you shook back and forth, clutching your legs to your chest.

“Okay, it’s okay. It’s almost over,” Spencer said, standing and reaching into the last slot. 

He didn’t move for a while, back turned to you, looking down at something.

“Spencer?”

“Me, I choose me,” he said, turning towards the vent, revealing the item he was holding. A gun. His gun.

“No!”

“Very well,” Tom said, chuckling. “But that’s not quite how this works. One of you has to die, but the other has to do it.”

Spencer ran and sat next to you on the floor, forcing the gun into your hands, lightly placing your finger on the trigger.

“Spencer . . .”

“Listen to me, it’s okay. Okay? If we don’t do this, he’s gonna kill us both. I need you to understand that I am okay with this. I am choosing this, not you. This is for me to decide.”

He slowly brought the gun up to his head, resting just between his eyebrows.

That was too much and the sobs that had been building up in your chest escaped your lips, tears pouring down your cheeks and falling onto your legs. Your hands trembled harder, the gun shaking against his head.

“Y/N,” he smiled, eyes bright and twinkling. “It’s okay.” Then, he swallowed, looked away for a moment, then looked back at you with fire burning deep behind his eyes. What he said next changed your life.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You sobbed as he cocked the gun and steadied your finger on the trigger.

“I love you, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. You didn’t even have to think before you did what you did next.

You removed the gun from his head, held it against your own, right on your temple, and stood, turning toward the vent.

“5 . . .”

“Wait!” Tom called out.

“4 . . .”

“Y/N, stop!” Spencer shouted at you.

“3 . . .”

“That’s not how this works!” Tom yelled furiously, voice cracking. “Stop! You have to shoot him!”

“2 . . .”

The wall under the vent slid open and a dark figure stumbled in, holding out a blunt object, approaching you threateningly, rearing back.

The instant you saw the whites of Tom’s eyes, you aimed the gun directly between his eyes and squeezed the trigger, attempting to keep your arm as still as possible. In a flash, you were brought back to the alley where you shot a gun for the first time. All you could think of were your and Spencer’s lips meeting for the first time.

You didn’t realize you’d closed your eyes until you opened them and was met with the image of Tom The Barista with a bloody hole in his head, falling backwards to the floor, crumpling like a rag doll, a blank expression on his face.

Taking one last look at Spencer to make sure he was okay, you felt your legs give out beneath you and you fell to the floor, losing consciousness. 

Again, everything went dark.

~

last chapter tomorrow. i am so sorry. bring tissues.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams​ @mjloveskids666​ @dolanfivsosxox​ @criesinreid​ @fanficsrmylife @racerparker​ @sammypotato67​ @lukeskisses​ @reidcrimes​ @you-had-me-at-hello-dear​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @thatsonezesty13​​ @yourmisosoup​ @queenofthebees003​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @eu-solidao @perverted-guardian-angel​ @boiled-onionrings​ @rainsong01​ @lesbian-emilyprentiss​ @andiebeaword​ @itsmoony​ @cielo1984​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @mendesminimuffin​ @fukyouthink​ @addie5264 @gretaamyk​ @sercyan​ @expressiodeppresio @matthewreid​

[dreamii-yume]

I feel Yandere ace should get some attention so how about ace not knowing how to express his feeling to his darling bullies for their attention eventually the darling has enough and starts avoiding him

I agree! Ace is one of my favorite characters and writing him as a Yandere is very fun! Furthermore, he sounds like an interesting friend to have honestly. (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) You know, the one friend that gets you into stupid, troublesome shit but at least it was fun, am I right?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

It’s not his fault, you know? If ever, he should be blaming Darling! He thought that the two of them could get along as friends, but she ruined everything...

Darling just have to make him feel like this and act like she did nothing wrong.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“You look like a chipmunk with all those food in your mouth.” Ace said, raising his eyebrows in amusement before pulling on your round cheeks with a smirk. You squeaked, whining at the pain of getting your flesh stretched out but the guy just laughed at you. “Eat properly, dork.”

He let go of your reddening cheeks and you just glared at him out of spite. Your mouth wasn’t even that full but still, you huffed as you chewed your lunch a lot more thoroughly. Ace just stared at you with the same smirk that never left his face. He pursed his lips together, trying to keep his hand from twitching. The lingering feeling of your soft skin was still faint on his hand, he wanted to feel more but decided against it for your own sake.

Ace himself didn’t know exactly when he started feeling this way about you.

Last time he checked, you weren’t all that special, weren’t worth taking a double look at. Sure, you were from a world that no one knows about and can’t use magic, but that’s basically the only thing different about you and nothing more. Honestly, it was all boring stuff that doesn’t interest him at all. But first impressions really change the more you spent time with that person, Ace seemed to have found this out the hard way.

“Ow!” You gasped softly to not attract attention from anyone in your current class and quietly glanced behind you, rubbing on the slightly burning part of your scalp. Ace had pulled on a segment of your hair hard and even had the audacity to sneer at you with a mischievous look on his face. “W-What was that for!?”

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to mess with you~” He said in a low voice to not get caught by the current teacher in front. You glared at him with puffed up cheeks as you turned your head back to the board in front. This just caused Ace to snicker, almost choking himself on how much he’s trying to hold his laughter in. “You should be thankful, dummy. I can see you nodding off from here, I bet you were making such an ugly yawning face just earlier. So, Because I’m nice, I just have to wake you up before the teacher notice those yawns.”

Ace heard you muttering something under your breath that he couldn’t quite hear, but he’s pretty sure that you were cursing him. He doesn’t mind though, you tried your best to not fall asleep in the majority of the class because of it anyway. Ace kept his focus at you though, wishing how much he wanted to be seated beside you instead of being stuck staring at your back this whole time. His mind drifted off to your sleepy-looking face, imagining how adorable it must’ve been.

He himself began to doze off and of course, they were all thoughts revolving around you. Your voice calling out his name, the way you pout when things don’t get your way, the way your eyes would lit up like a kid receiving a gift during Christmas. Ace began to see those little traits in a different way as time goes by. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening to him, he wasn’t naive enough to believe that it’s just something you feel whilst growing up. It’s far more than that, more intense, more serious, something that makes his heart beat irregularly whenever you’re near.

Ace was in love with you.

...Saying it like that sounded too cheesy and uncool for Ace’s taste, but it was true. It started out as a little crush that he hid so well but unfortunately grew bigger and bigger without him even realizing so. He heard how love was supposed to feel good, life-changing even, but all this time, Ace was feeling nothing but annoyance. It felt like a burden in his heart that just won’t leave him alone at whatever he does. But no matter how troublesome it gets, he could not build up the courage to just go and confess to you.

It took a long time to become this close to you after all, he didn’t want to ruin the bond you both worked hard on. Friendship wasn’t enough for Ace, but it was literally the only thing that holds the two of you together right now. He can’t risk the possibility of you getting weirded out and avoiding him, he doesn’t have enough will power to stand that. Ace wouldn’t admit it in real life but for the first time in a while, he does not feel too confident in carrying out something so risky.

“Thank you, Ace!” You exclaimed happily as you wiped away tears that almost fell from your eyes. You hugged the notebook that you thought you lost tight, giving Ace a big, grateful smile. “You’re a real-life saver!”

The side of his lips twitched slightly, but he made sure to never let you notice those subtle movements. Instead, he went with it, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. “Yeah, yeah...” He said but gave you another one of his cruel smirk. Suddenly, all the relief you felt just faded away, just to be replaced with dread. You paled as a bad feeling began piling up on your stomach, you gulped. “I’m in charge of taking care of the flamingos in Heartslabyul tomorrow. I expect you to be there too, okay~?”

Of course, Ace just returned something so important to you, it’s just expected that he would want something in return. “Also, the limited-edition sandwich in the cafeteria looks pretty good, don’t you think? Won’t you get that for me too?” Ace said, giving you a toothy grin while your eye twitched, unable to have a say in his demands. “What~? I’m the type of guy who doesn’t do anything unless there’s a reward in the end, you know?”

Once again, you puffed up your cheeks, irritation building up inside but sighed anyway and hesitantly agreed to his terms and conditions, despite the fact that you knew it was going to strain both your time and wallet. Ace’s eyes remained mischievous however, as you eventually just brushed him off and excused yourself to go to your next class before headed out with a wave. Ace stared at your retreating figure, waiting for the moment where he was sure you were gone. When that moment arrived though, the first thing he did was to let out a sigh.

You were too easy, thanks to that whole ordeal, he’s sure as hell going to be looking forward to do the flamingo duty now that he roped you in there to help him. Not to mention the deluxe lunch that you’ll be getting for him later too. But still, you really have to be careful not to get caught up in situations like this with other people, you’re lucky that he only asks for minor things. Seriously, you were too careless...

...To not even notice that it was him who stole that precious notebook of yours to begin with.

The panic was enough to nearly bring you to tears but whatever. At the end of the day, all Ace really wanted to do was to hoard your attention all to himself, resulting in these pathetic attempts.

That’s right, Ace doesn’t intend to hurt you at all. He just wanted to mess with you until his image would be the one floating in your mind all day, every day. Just like you would always be in his, it’s just fair, don’t you think so too?

It’s scummy, but what else was he supposed to do? Gaining your affection in a fair manner just feels like he’s ready for a rejection to come by, like he’s bound to get rejected. God only knows if Ace’s heart could accept such a half-ass conclusion like that. If he’ll have to use deceit, lies, and cruelty to capture your heart, then so be it.

It’s all for the sake of love, isn’t it?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

...At least, it was all supposed to be for the sake of love.

“You’re always yapping about wanting to go home and all that stuff, but don’t you think you’re being a little too selfish here?” Ace said one day when you made the mistake of shifting the conversation about your world. “Everyone in here accepted you already, you know? Even if you can’t go home, I’m sure there’s someone out here willing to take you in!”

“The dorm leaders are so fond of you now, the headmaster is kind so I’m sure he wouldn’t throw you out, and hell, I’ll probably be cursed for life if I don’t make even the slightest bit of effort on making you feel at home!” Ace complained, keeping his eyes close as he ignored the abnormal beating of his heart. He wondered if you noticed how the last part of his dialogue obviously points a clue to how he truly felt towards you. “...And even with all of those possibilities, you still want to go home? Come on, aren’t you being a little ungrateful here, Princess?”

Ace was genuinely upset, but for reasons you weren’t aware of nor reasons you even thought of. It was a disappointment that you didn’t notice just how much he meant what he said, that he’ll do anything to make you feel at home in his world. That he’ll be the one to take you when no one else would. You weren’t being selfish just by wanting to go home, Ace was just the one who’s most terrified of the thought of you leaving. But of course, ruthless words were the only way he could do to prevent you for doing just that.

“Besides, you’re not even sure if people in your world wants you back in the first place.” It felt like an arrow had pierced your heart just by seeing your expression but that’s what Ace wanted you to feel. He wanted his words to hit too close to home for you while he laughs without a single care in the world. “I mean, a clumsy, stupid girl like you? I can’t imagine anyone waiting for someone like that! Must’ve been a relief for everyone in your world to finally realize that you were gone!”

Things would’ve been fine as it is with Ace constantly catching you off-guard with his petty little tricks. It was just what most friends do, be mean and brutally honest with each other just for the laughs and then, make up soon after. It would’ve been fun, it would’ve been hilarious, but all things had their own limits. And When someone crosses that line without respecting its boundary, that’s when things would transcend for the worst.

The way your eyes looked like they were about to tear up, Ace had to ignore that. He wouldn’t let you escape either, he needed to drill that fact into your head. That feeling that no one else but him would want and accept someone like you. He needed to make you feel worthless, just so he could be the knight to sweep you off your feet.

Unbeknownst to him though, Ace didn’t realize that it was that particular moment where he had cross that forbidden boundary. He slowly lost the general idea of control now that he discovered another, much brutal side he could go. All he cared about now is how much your attention was on him, that you wouldn’t even dare think of anyone else.

Teasing comments became downright insulting, jokes became too real, and physical impacts became way too abusive.

You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself when a hot bowl of soup would ‘accidentally’ fall in your lap. You would never be prepared when you would get pushed down the stairs and strain something. You wouldn’t be able to blame anyone if your notes would disappear and come back to you with aggressive scribbles all over the words. So naturally, you wouldn’t be able to move once his hands had wrapped themselves around your neck, threatening to injure you one way or another if you dare do anything.

...And throughout of it all, Ace would be smirking, laughing at your misery. You could see it in his eyes on how much he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying the feeling of being able to trample on you like this. Even if he believes that he wasn’t.

It had driven you into a corner, his actions had quickly shifted into something far worse than teasing. The glint of satisfaction in his eyes whenever you would end up tearing up like it was the highlight of his day. Your increasing number of bruises had been getting a lot of questions lately. It’s not easy to answer them honestly without Ace’s piercing eyes in the background, he just seems to follow you everywhere. Eventually, you finally decided to put your foot down, it wasn’t funny anymore.

But although you’ve had enough, it’s not like you could just fight back against him. No, Ace was far more tricky and cunning as you, trying before had already resulted into a scar that never truly disappeared. So, you did what you could only do the best.

Stay away from his line of sight and hope for the best; Survive.

You started avoiding him, ignoring his gestures during class and not answering his messages or calls. You didn’t let him have an alone time with you anymore, running away towards where people would gather so he couldn’t act. You wouldn't allow him anywhere close to your dorm without another soul accompanying him, hiding until you could no longer hear his voice. Ace was one of the first few friends that you’ve gained after coming into this world, possibly the first. But as important as he is, you felt as if he needed some time to recollect his thoughts, to realize what he was doing wrong.

You had no clue on why he's suddenly like this, he was troublesome before but he was still an overall good friend. You just want him to go back to the way he used to be and this was the only possible way you could think of. If his abusive treatment of you continues, you were afraid that you might just end up seeing him as a villain, a relentless bully and not the Ace that you spent time with.

...This was supposed to be for his own good, yet why does it still feel like you had just pressed the wrong buttons?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~? 

Something different about this Dream Sinfic, huh? Well, that’s because Yume’s using a laptop to post! ＼(￣▽￣)／I personally feel like this style feel more organized and neat but what do you think, sweetheart?

Anyway, Yume has started her online class now as expected, it sucks and I’m sad to say that you may expect slow updates from now on, Darling~ o(TヘTo) But I’ll still write, don’t worry~ (´,,•ω•,,)♡ Nothing can keep me apart from making the hornii dreams come true

[missyjanne85]

WARNING: LONG POST! NO TRIGGERS - FEEL GOOD VIBES GUARANTEED! (Unless your heart is, like, literally made of stone!...)

ANYWAY!

So I'm going to tell you a bit about my Dad! 😍

The whole reason why I express myself creatively is because of my dad. My love of reading and writing comes from him. He is (along with my mum of course – if you want a lesson in equality and the example of “sensitive, new age man” my dad’s pic is under the definition) and always has been my biggest supporter – the person who is guaranteed to be in the front row cheering me on. I didn’t have a soccer mum growing up, I had a soccer DAD. Dad was the one who took me and my brother everywhere on the weekends! I was very lucky and privileged growing up – dad would take me to singing lessons, piano lessons, tennis lessons (I tried other activities too but I won’t mention them…basically cause I sucked lol). Dad was the one who listened and encouraged me when I wrote my first song – music was my absolute passion (and still is)and he would spend hours with me workshopping every performance I would prepare for, every recital...He was my Alpha before I knew what that term meant.

WHY AM I TELLING YOU ALL THIS???

I'm glad you asked - I'll tell you 😉

As most of you know - I have recently created my author page on Facebook. This year I have made a conscious effort to connect to those with like-minded interests. HP FANFIC! I’ve found my people!!! Specifically on the platforms Facebook and Tumblr (I still suck at it…but I’m trying!)…I’m also a lurker on Instagram.

MISSY GET BACK TO THE POINT!

Here it is: My dad is an Indi Author! I know! How BAMF is that?! He’s retired now, but back in the day he was an English and History teacher. He also taught English as a Second Language for a while and eventually moved into Higher Education in which he taught young adults with learning disabilities – his program was designed to teach them essential life skills (like budgeting, shopping, skills that would lead to getting a job) He would come home and tell me stories about his students and one of their favourite activities: Reading the newspaper together as a class and discuss the current events – dad was an amazing teacher and he is an amazing man.

When dad was an English teacher at High School, one of the activities he would run when teaching creative writing was an activity he had dubbed: “speed writing”. Now that I’ve become a part of fandom author community - I have literally only just put two and two together and realised my dad was running “sprints” in his classroom 😱😱😱

Again! What an absolute BAMF!

MISSY! YOU’RE RAMBLING AGAIN - GET BACK TO THE ACTUAL POINT!

Okay, Sorry! I'll try again...

Dad isn’t on social media (though mum is), he doesn’t use a mobile phone (but mum does – you see where I’m going with this?). As an independently published Indi-Author on Amazon (I’m gonna share the link – don’t worry), I’ve told him about the benefits of social networking. He’s been reluctant…I decided at the time not to push. Recently though, I shared with him the fact that I’ve been writing during Covid 19 – not songs and music, but stories. I told him I’ve found a safe haven in fanfiction – I’ve found people I wish I knew years ago! I’ve found friends who I’m now collaborating with (back in the day I was never in a band or anything like that). I’ve told Dad about my experience publishing my little ficlettes and stories on AO3 - how I was receiving reviews and feedback. I told him about ‘Kudos”.

His ears suddenly perked up and bless him – he said “Do you think your friends would look at my story too and do you think they would leave a comment?”

Well friends, now you *know* - I’m a daughter on a mission!

My dad’s alias is Raymond Jeffrey. His birthday is the 12th of December and I’ve been thinking...What can I possibly give the man who has literally fuelled my love of writing? Who has constantly encouraged my creativity. What does he truly want?

The answer is Kudos people!!!!!

My dad isn’t interested in the amount of sales or rankings his book gets – It’d be nice, but it won't stop him from writing his trilogy. He's already a thrid of the way through book 2!!! (BAMF!)

So friends, if I may be so bold - can I ask you to reach out and leave him a review on Amazon? Even if it is as simple as a phrase of encouragement to keep writing, to continue? The way we do in Fandom?

That would be simply magic!!!

I’m not asking you to buy his book, but if you have Kindle I’d love for you to give his original work a go and leave him a review.

You can download a free sample here:

https://www.amazon.com.au/God-Wills-Lucifers-Raymond-Jeffrey-ebook/dp/B07NTQ2C5T

Dad literally painted the artwork himself (and then had mum scan it as a PDF in order to upload it and then use it as a cover). My mum has been simply amazing – she’s his Alpha and has encouraged him on this life long goal to write a book.

Dad currently had 10 sales in total (some are purchases made by family from overseas) and recently he cheekily introduced himself to his new neighbour (my folks recently moved during Covid 19) as an ‘internationally selling author’(Omg Dad! 😆🤣😂 ). He's also hired a woman to professionally format and edit his book for SPAG – so his book has actually been professionally Beta’d (when I told him I had met people who loved Betaing for funsies he was shocked and also secretly I think he was a little jelly 🤭🤭🤭).

So yes, can you help me friends????? Be a part of this movement I’m trying to start?!

I would literally love for him to suddenly get a flood of reviews and have no idea why!

I plan to share this post with him for his birthday.

Thanks and gratitude friends!

Love from Missy xxxxx

#kudosformissysdad

[kareofbears]

asymmetric styling

“I like the way you dress.”

Akechi looks up from his crossword (one word left, ten letters horizontally) to see Ann waiting for a response.

“What?”

—

read on ao3 or below the cut :) 

“I like the way you dress.”

Akechi looks up from his crossword (one word left, ten letters horizontally) to see Ann waiting for a response.

“What?”

“Your outfits are nice,” she clarifies, nodding at his winter attire. “I like how you present yourself, and the colors you pick. You have a knack for clothes, I think.”

“Okay,” he says for lack of a better response. “Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I want to?”

He sets down his crossword. “Why would you want to?”

Ann stares at him. “Because you have good outfits?”

“Yes, we’ve been over that, but you hate me, so why would you want to compliment me?” If this useless back and forth goes on any further, Akechi’s going to pop a vein.

“I can still hate people and compliment them,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “That’s called high school.”

“This,” he gesticulates at the empty interior of Leblanc. “Is us waiting for the rest of the halfwits and Sumire to show up, and that I’ve apparently been granted the unfortunate lottery ticket of spending alone time with you.”

“I think it’s called a blessing, actually,” she grins. “I’m something of a hoot. A rockstar. A Hollywood badass.”

“A nuisance?” he offers, smiling thinly in return.

“Are you always like this or is it because I’m just too pretty?”

“I feel like this is a trick question from how stupid it sounds, but it’s most definitely not the second one, I promise.” Akechi shrugs off his jacket, and moves to grab his crossword puzzle again. “How about you go back to your phone, and we can go back to the delightful silence we had before?”

Her hand slams down on the newspaper. “I knew it.”

Raising an eyebrow, “Are you about to tell me the final answer to this crossword? Because not only do I legally have to say that you seem like you’ve never attempted a mental aptitude test in your life, but because I’m generally against spoilers.”

“You do like fashion!”

Akechi represses a sigh. “What are you on about?”

“Your jacket,” she points at his brown peacoat. “That was on page thirteen of Vague, the July edition predicting sales on which winter apparel for men will take off later that year. That peacoat was rated number one in Japan and ended up being something like a self-fulfilling prophecy by using their earlier predictions and turned it into sales.”

He scoffs. “Okay, sure. Let’s say that I’m an avid follower of fashion.” Akechi leans forward, and his head tilts in mock-concern. “But doesn’t that mean that you rebuked your own statement? Since this was…what was that? ‘Rated number one in Japan?’ Won’t that mean that everyone would be trying to sell this coat? And it could be a complete coincidence that I have this jacket because it can be replicated in every fast-fashion store in downtown Shibuya?” He gasps. “Oh no, looks like you’re wrong about the very field you think you know the most in! How humiliating.”

Ann leans forward, her smile is wide but her eyes are sharp. “Silly me. I guess I forgot to mention a fact about this specific brand, color, and fabric on the very first day of release: it’s near impossible for manufacturers to try and replicate it.” She tilts her head to mimic him. “Humiliation’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, if I had ever experienced it the way you just did,” he replies pleasantly. “‘Near impossible,’ means statistically difficult, but not quite impossible.”

“Very true, but since that brand is on such high demand, they actually have a foolproof method to fight against fake brands. Perhaps they thought it was a good idea to have a small symbol that can be easily overlooked. Let’s say—” she reaches forward and grabs his coat, grin stretching even further when she points at one of the big brown buttons. “Something like a rabbit engraved on top of the first button?”

Akechi raps his fingers on the table. “Perhaps, but if you had done your research, this brand has two foolproof methods: the rabbit, as you annoyingly mentioned, and the code that you can enter in the website to prove its legitimacy. However, as you may have noticed—” he pinches the label near the collar of the peacoat. “No code. Sorry.”

Ann groans, throwing her hands over her face. “Dammit!”

Letting himself cheer internally, he makes sure the condescension is layered thick in his voice. “Not your fault. You tried your best.”

“Yeah…I’m sure you did.” Blue eyes peek from between her fingers. “Too bad you forgot the cute little fact that four years ago they actually put the code inside of the label.”

His shoulders tense.

“Do you mind flipping it for me, Akechi? Actually, no need,” propping her chin on her palm, he probably could have felt her smugness from three blocks away. “Even if there isn’t, I know that you live and breathe fashion as much as I do.” Her expression turns cheery. “Well, almost as much.”

“Congratulations, you beat me in a game you know you’re more knowledgeable in than I am,” he deadpans. “An outstanding feat. Can you let me finish my puzzle now?”

“I should’ve guessed you were a sore loser,” Ann says, ignoring him. “I still remember when Akira beat you in a round of Tycoon. Your face was stuck like—” she scrunches her eyebrows together and morphs her features into a menacing scowl. “For like four hours afterwards, it was great.”

“He only won because his cards were better than mine.”

“Actually, if I’m not mistaken, the cards you drew were basically as good as his, and you still lost.”

“Oh, I see, you’re trying to be funny. Hilarious. I can hardly breathe, please call an ambulance.” He rubs his temples. “I yield. I’m going to ask you this one last time: What do you want? And no games, I beg of you, you’re going to make my head burst.”

“Killjoy,” she sighs, before straightening up. “You know that we hate you.”

“I think I’m aware, yes.”

“And you hate us—”

“But Sumire doesn’t count,” they both say in unison.

“But you not only hate us, but I’m pretty sure you hate, like, everyone else,” she continues, gesticulating with her hands. “Japan, Asia, the world. I’m sure you have some random vendetta with some guy across the Pacific Ocean. He probably breathed too hard and made one of your hairs move two weeks later.”

“Is there a point to your prattling, or…?”

“I’m getting there,” she gives him an accusing look. “So with all that in mind, why does a guy like you, who would get in a boxing ring with just about anyone on the planet, know so much about something like the fashion industry?” Smoothing down his jacket, “Why do you put so much effort in how you dress when it’s so clear that you don’t care what other people think about you?”

“Is that what you think?”

Ann pauses at his tone. “Am I wrong?”

“No. Not necessarily.” She continues to stare at him, unblinking. “Do you ever learn to back down?”

That makes her grin. “Not in this line of work. If you think I’m bad, you should go a few rounds with Ryuji.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” If information is the price for temporary silence, then he’s willing to pay the price. Even at the cost of prolonging his crossword. “I didn’t care what other people think about me, but I wanted them to see me in a certain light.”

She squints. “What?”

He finds himself fiddling with the edge of his newspaper. “The very first thing people notice about a person is how they present themself. In their hair, their expression, their posture. But above all that, is the clothes that they wear. The shoes on their feet, the jacket on their back, how expensive their watch is. All that information is melded together in an instant. That split second—” he snaps his fingers. “Is all they need to form an opinion of you. To define you, before you can even open your mouth.”

“I don’t care about fashion,” Akechi admits. “But I cared about what it could do for me. I got to have a say in who I am.” His eyes flicker to her. “Done?”

The look Ann gives him is unreadable. “You’re a liar.”

Akechi leans away, taken aback. “Well, yes, of course. I thought we all knew that by now.”

“You do care about what other people think about you, Akechi,” she accuses, realization dawning on her. “‘Want to see you in a certain light,’ my ass—all you’re doing is shuffling around what your words mean to justify your actions through your thick, annoyingly soft-haired skull. You’re right, you don’t care about fashion, because at the end of the day…” Ann shrugs helplessly, and her words are spoken with something like awe and dismay. “All you care about is how people see you.”

A beat passes. “Wanted.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘wanted,’” he corrects, unfazed. “Past tense.”

Ann gives him a hard look. “Correcting me on my grammar, now? Real mature.”

“Only because it changes the meaning of everything you just said.” Akechi reaches over to his jacket’s collar, and flips the label to reveal the code. “Thanks to your reminder, you helped me recall something.” He taps at the seemingly randomized set of numbers in front of him. “This lets you know when you bought the coat. What number is this?”

Reluctantly, she peers at what he’s pointing at. “‘10?’” she says quietly. “October?”

“I bought this about a week before my well-deserved beatdown in Shido’s ship,” he clarifies. “So about four months ago from today.”

“Okay? And?” she urges, still confused.

“And this coat is the newest thing I own.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning…” how strange it was, saying this out loud to another person. “That something between Shido’s ship and now, I stopped caring. About up-to-date fashion, about appearances, and especially stopped giving a damn about other people’s perception of me.”

Ann is silent for a moment. “Was it because of what happened in Shido’s ship?” she asks. There’s no trace of superiority or teasing in her tone—only curiosity.

“Could be,” he answers honestly. “Perhaps I realized that there was no need to uphold a specific personality anymore. Perhaps I was just tired after playing that song and dance for as long as I can remember. Bottom line is: I don’t give a single shit about fashion anymore.”

Her lips quirk up, “Even though you got into a fashion pissing contest not five minutes ago?”

“That’s different. I love to win.”

“I can tell,” she breathes out a laugh. After a moment, a thoughtful expression clouds her features. “Can I say something?”

“If I actually had a say in that, we wouldn’t have had this conversation at all.”

“How would you, Akechi Goro, feel about trying to get back into fashion?”

For once, Akechi looks surprised. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

Her hands drum on the table eagerly. “Just hear me out. You don’t care about fashion because it sort of, kind of, maybe represents how much you tried to be someone you’re not, which hey, I get that, super relatable, and it’s great that you don’t care about that anymore. But—and give me a chance here—” Ann grins. “Wouldn’t it be more interesting if you wore clothes that you wanted to wear?”

She shifts in her seat, excitement radiating off of her. It’s difficult to watch. “I’ve been studying fashion ever since I could understand the color wheel, and if there’s one thing I learned is that fashion is power. If you make it your own, then,” Ann shrugs. “All the more power to you, right?”

Akechi is struck with silence, and is saved from having to reply when the door to Leblanc swings wide open. An entourage of loud teenagers steamroll into the cafe, all brushing off various amounts of snow from themselves.

“Took you long enough!” Ann yells over her shoulder.

“Sorry for the delay,” Haru answers. She raises her hand to reveal a full plastic bag. “But we got snacks!”

“Takoyaki?”

“Pork kebab.”

She makes a face. “Stop indulging Ryuji!”

“Mm, literally impossible,” Akira replies, combing the snow out of Futaba’s hair.

Akechi sinks back into the booth, waiting for Sumire to walk in and prance by his side, when Ann turns back to him. “By the way, I think it’s ‘asymmetrical.’”

“What is?”

“The last word on your puzzle,” she nods down at his crossword. “‘With two halves, sides, or parts that are not exactly the same in shape or size.’ I read it while I was grabbing your coat.”

“Oh.” He reluctantly scribbles down the answer, lacking the usual enjoyment he gets from finishing a crossword. “…Thanks.”

Somehow, she’s still not done talking. “I heard Akira went shopping with Sumire last week. She came back with the cutest dress I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I’m aware.” He’s pretty sure he’s compiled enough for a slideshow of it by now, given how many pictures of it Sumire’s sent to him.

She hesitates, before seeming to steel herself. “Wanna go shopping tomorrow?”

Akechi blinks. Twice. He’s about to open his mouth to say no as rudely as possible, when he lets his eyes wander the cramped coffee shop. All of them are in clothes that scream their personality, even if it clashes or has horrible style (he can barely look at Ryuji’s winter outfit without cringing).

But, as terrible as some of them may look, all of them seem content to be in the clothes that they chose.

“Maybe.”

Ann’s smile is bright and genuine. “I can work with a maybe.”

[tipsydipsydo]

Request: "Can I get an imagine with dom male reader x taekook, where the reader had a bad day and the boys cheer him up with fluff or some smut, thank you!"

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Sub! Taekook x Dom! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff (Idk? xD) and some Mentions of Smut at the End

Warnings: not really buuut the reader has a bad day and some anger outbursts; Swearing; a bit smutty content at the end; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; sub! Taekook; Dirty Language; Dirty Talk

A/N: first Reader x Member Pairing request uhhhh~ 🥳

...and to the dear anon who requested this, I hope you'll be able to find this here! 😅💜

Links:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation 

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Taehyung sighs and looks on the display of his smartphone for the sixth time in the last five minutes. Still no message from you, even though it's already 11:28 a.m. and the meeting should have started at 9:00 a.m.

Actually, this one today should only be clarifying the last questions and then the final contract should be signed, right? And that can't last more than two and a half hours when you had the deal with the potential investor already at the last meeting (more or less).

The company you work wanted to expand and enter a new part of industry, so they were looking for a possible investor. And your boss chose you to take over and lead the subsequent negotiations with the agency of the Investment Group!

This is an extraordinary compliment for you that your boss recognizes and appreciates your skills. He also said that, depending on how well you present the company to investors and able to manage and coordinate the whole process, you also have chances of being transferred to a higher position!

So you did everything, really everything, to convince the investors and to arrange the deal. You don't want that you've sat in the office late into the night and worked countless overtime hours for nothing, especially when there is a possibility of getting into a more attractive position and thus also better payment.

It looks like your efforts are paying off. Already at the first meeting, where you presented the company and the idea for the expansion, the investors were very interested and said at the end of the meeting that they would be very happy about a subsequent meeting.

In the weeks that followed, further meetings took place and hypothetical, but nevertheless very concrete planning approaches started then. The last meetings felt like the deal was already finalized and they're already discussing how the plan was actually implemented.

The boys were be happy for you and every time you had another successful meeting-day behind you, it proved, that the night shifts in the office seems to pay off.

They confirmed to you that the deal is almost completed and all you need now is just the investors' signatures on the formalities.

Well, that's what you want to get today.

Despite all the optimism, Jungkook and Tae are getting more and more worried about it because you still haven't told them about the good news (they can't be any other way)!

After all, signing contracts doesn't take three hours?? Then finally, at 11:47 a.m. comes the redeeming "Ping!" simultaneously from your two boyfriends smartphones.

Kookie and Tae make a competition out of 'who can unlock his phone faster and with it, congratulate you for the successful deal'. Kookie is the first one who enters your shared group chat. But his smile disappears as he reads your short message. It may be short, but Jungkook has to read it several times to really understand the meaning behind it.

You [11:47 a.m.]: The deal is off.

"W-What ... What the-", comes over Jungkook's lips. In this moment, Tae is faster than Jungkook and he’s the one who respond to your message first.

Tae♡ [11:48 a.m.]: What?? Why?! How they could choose against the deal?! I mean, you said the deal is as good as made and they were insterested right at the beginning?

You [11:49 a.m.]: Fuck, I don't know it?! They just said, "there are some logistical problems and expectation differences betweem their comany and ours" and "that we couldn't solve them together even after new discussions and compromises". That's why they said the deal is off and simply dropped us. I can't believe it, everything went so good until now, WHY the fuck they decided against us?!?!

You [11:49 a.m.]: They said there would be some 'expectional disagreements' ...did they mean that the financials? That the certain sum of money they've to invest into our new project is too high? But then there are always possibilities for discussions and new compromises?! God, that fucks me so up! I want to know what their goddamn problem is!

You're sitting in the company's cafeteria and are trying to calm yourself down before the lunch break will ends. So that you can return to your work desk with a more or less cleared mind and somehow are able to survive the afternoon.

You thought, after the incompleted deal and your chance to get promoted was wasted, your day couldn't actually get any worse.

Well yeah, it's possible.

You know that when David turns around the corner and looks at you with a big spiteful smirk, apparently he has already heard about the news. This asshole is not even trying to hide his satisfaction about your dropped deal.

Of course, like every damn time you have to meet him in the building, he has to leave his very personal comment on it. You don't know why you were punished for having to work with him in the fucking same department?!

"Hm? I heard that the meeting didn't went so well, after all the investors jumped off. But it was already foreseeable that it won't work anyway. I don't understand why Mr. O'Brien chose you of all people for the Management of the investment-coordination for this project.", just when you hear these first words, the anger in you starts to grow in lightning speed.

"I mean, let's be honest and that's what I'm gonna say is not meant to be rude, I just want to give you a little helpful tip. I assume that everyone in our Department will agree with the fact that you still have to work on your presence. If you want to get an investor interested in a project so that they're willing to provide financial resources, then you have to sell the deal with ambition, self-assurance and self-confidence. Investors need to know what your concrete plan is, that you're standing 100% behind that project and that it'll be profitable for everyone!"

"I think you lack a little bit of dominance and assertiveness, you should work on that urgently. Yeah, you can be submissive in your own bedroom when it's that what you like, but in the tough economic world you have to be able to assert yourself. That's just a tip from me. Despite the disaster, have still a nice day~", he said in a mocking tone, patting you on the shoulder and then going whistling to the food display of the cafeteria.

You need a moment to realize what exactly this bastard shamelessly said into your face. He doesn't know that you're the Dom in the relationship, he just wanted to put a little more salt in the open wound of your injured pride. And that hit a dangerously sore point. How dare this bastard to say that you're the submissive part in the bedroom?!

You're about to go after him and become verbally abusive, you won't let yourself be offered such a talking shit! But you know it better, you would only make things worse if you stand out negatively now through emotionality. You already know that this action would only confirm David in his opinion about you. When you behave unprofessionally now, everyone could think that you are unable to deal with defeats. So you try to swallow your anger and frustration as best you can down and just ignore David for the rest of the day. Even when you really want to punch him into the face.

However, to give the anger at least some space, you complain frustrated to your two darlings about everything. They listen to you patiently and rebuild the image about yourself again. But also plead to you, to please don't do any crap mindlessly, led by emotions.

You're really glad when you can finally finish work and end this catastrophic day.

When you open the door, the pleasant warmth of the apartment welcomes you and a delicious, all too familiar smell rises in your nose.

These two things alone make you feel as if something heavy has been removed from your shoulders. You take a deep breath and really feel how you return to your inner peace.

You are at home, nobody can strain your nerves anymore, only your two beloved boyfriends are waiting for you.

It seems like they've prepared something for you, so that at least the evening of today will be better than everything else before. Jungkook is at the stove and is cooking your favorite dish. You wrap your arms from behind around him and give him a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, letting his scent soothe you. When you also feel the warmth of Taehyung on your back, everything is suddenly not as bad as you first thought.

The boys bought your favorite wine for your favorite dish, which makes the dinner perfect. It looks like Taehyung is about to get up to get the dessert or so, when he stops and looks at you with a nervous but excited smile. On Jungkook's cheeks, you can see a hint of a blush too. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"W-Well... when you texed us that you don't know if you can control yourself around David, to not punching him right into the face... Jungkook and I thought there are other and much better ways to reduce stress and anger... We... well... before you came home, Kookie and I p-prepared each other for you... and right now... we're both wearing your favorite plugs. We thought you'd rather pounding your anger and frustration in us than having problems at work. So... please use us as your stress reliever.", said Taehyung, biting his lower lip, looking at me in a kinda... begging manner? Hmm, seems like there is someone who wants to be fucked hard and rough~

"S-Sir, please dominate me. Own me. Make me to your whining and begging sub...", Jungkook whispers with dark red cheeks. You see the lust and excitement in his dark, dilated pupils, to get used and to take your anger and frustration without any complain.

God, your boys are just perfect. They know exactly how to behave in order to make their master proud.

"It's really the case that you want to be used ad my stress reliever, completely selflessly? Even when I think that this 'reason' just came up to you perfectly, so that you didn't have to beg to get fucked hard and without any mercy again. Hmm, am I right?"

The way Taehyung and Jungkook are blushing and stuttering furiously confirms your guess.

"Such needy horny Boys I have here. Tz tz tz... Come, let's see what I should do to my Babies when they're so greedy for my cock and a rough fuck...", you chuckle devilishly when you go with them to your shared bedroom.

The next day.

You [09:12]: Hey Darlings~ I have really great news! I got my promotion despite of the unfinished deal! My boss was very pleased with the huge amout of work I put in this project and he assured me, that it wasn't because of my negotiation strategy that the investors dropped the deal. There seem to be some internal problems in the Investment Group at the moment, which is why they can no longer support projects at the moment. And guess what I've been promoted to... I've become department head and that means I'm now David's boss! I think now we both can discuss who has to work on his assertiveness ... 😏😈

You [09:15 a.m.]: And I hope you're okay and your precious asses are not too sore~ ​​love you ❤

[recurring-polynya]

What are your feelings on the 11 division (the characters that matter)

Sooooo... I like the Squad 11 folks as side characters and world building. I like people who like Squad 11, and I enjoy seeing fanfic takes on them. I like writing them myself, because I like to write stories about Renji and Ikkaku and Yumichika are excellent foils for him.

I think IkkaYumi is a cute ship and I enjoy fanworks for it. I headcanon them both as 100% gay, and I always get a chuckle out of old fanfics that attempt to cram them into hetero ships. I headcanon Kenpachi as aroace, but I wish nothing but joy and peace to the many Kenpachi-fuckers on this website.

All that being said, I don’t really vibe with them as characters. I am a pacifist. I value kindness and thoughtfulness and cleverness and adaptability. I would be kicked out of Squad 11 immediately. I wrote a Squad 11 fic recently as a request and I struggled with it a lot, because I couldn’t get all the way into the characters’ heads.

I have more Squad 11 thoughts, but they are not very nice. I am not out to ruin anyone’s day here on tumblr dot com, so I’m gonna put these under a cut, and please feel free to move past this if you aren’t in the mood to have your beloved meatheads subjected to Polynya Amateur Literary Criticism Hour: Squad 11 Edition.

Okay, you’re still here. First and foremost, all of this applies only to canon. There are many wonderful Squad 11 fanficcers out there putting in the effort and doing great work. Any of the things I mention below can be overcome by good enough writing and love for the characters.

- Yumichika is canonically transphobic and that bothers me a ton. It’s not just, like, a brief moment, either, Kubo just really leaned into it, right up through the last arc. I struggle from time to time with being a hardcore fan of a work that spits on people I care about. I have definitely considered quitting the fandom over it, but I do feel like an important role of transformative works is reclaiming the things you love. There are a lot of cool gay and trans folks in the Bleach fandom and I have never seen a single fan who enjoyed or defended the transphobia, so I make an uneasy peace with it. It seems to be fanon consensus to just... ignore it, which is what I do most of the time, but I don’t feel great about it.

- Relatedly, I think Yumichika’s whole love-of-beauty deal could have been done in a very cool and interesting way and Kubo just played it for (unfunny) laughs instead. There are many fanficcers who are doing a far better job at this and we are lucky to have them.

- I think that Ikkaku and Kenpachi are both transcendentally stupid and I love them this way. People try to convince me from time to time that there is more going on in those empty skulls than it seems, and I may smile and nod, but I honestly prefer them as numbskulls.

- Ikkaku and Yumichika each only get 2/3 of a character arc, which is frustrating. They have these dumb fighting philosophies that are clearly harmful to them and do not work well for them, but there’s no closure to it. Yumichika may have done some soul searching during the timeskip, since he’s using high level kidou in the TYBWA, but we didn’t get to see any of it. There are several places where Ikkaku is compared with Iba, who values well-roundedness, and eventually becomes a captain, a position he admits he doesn’t feel like he deserves. This is a bad juxtaposition, because Ikkaku doesn’t want to be a captain anyway. A much better comparison is Renji. Renji is Ikkaku’s student, and is shown as clearly deferring to him, even once he’s a lieutenant. Renji, perhaps better than anyone else, follows Zaraki’s philosophy of “if you lose, consider yourself lucky and live to fight another day.” However, Renji is willing to accept heals, fight with allies, and will do a kidou even though he’s terrible at it, all against the Squad 11 Way. By the time the TYBWA rolls around, Renji is a monster. I’m not sure Ikkaku could defeat any of the captains, and Renji rolls in and shrugs off an enemy who just trashed two captains and a lieutenant without breaking a sweat. If they ever do fight again, Ikkaku is not going to be the one telling Renji his name before he kills him and I think this is important.

- The difference between Zaraki and Ikkaku (and everyone else, really) is that Zaraki is so freakishly strong that he can follow his own stupid rules and still come out on top. He can’t do kidou anyway and he can’t unseal his sword and he can’t work with others because his reiatsu is too strong, so they don’t really make a difference. Everyone else who is following Zaraki’s rules is just hobbling themselves.

- A theme of Bleach is that the greatest power comes in the interface between different kinds of beings and by combining different techniques. This is Aizen’s whole deal, not to mention things like kidou combos and shunko. It would have been cool and more balanced and actually make sense to have characters who focus on one thing be stronger than those who split their efforts, but that is shown time and again to not be the case. Diversification is better, which just makes Squad 11 seem even stupider. They say in the Soul Society Arc that Squad 11 is the strongest, but have we ever seen evidence of this? It just... seems like a lie they made up? (which, I’m fine with, it’s part of the overall dysfunction of Soul Society and I support this world-building). Perhaps it’s just true at low levels, because pretty much all shinigami below lieutenant suck.

- I despise the fact that they killed off Unohana to make Kenpachi stronger. I like to joke that Unohana faked her own death to get the hell out of that arc, but there’s honestly no other way to interpret that than “a man’s potential is more important that a woman’s lived experience” and Kubo can fuck off with that shit.

- It didn’t even make any damn sense! How on earth is a Kenpachi-who-has-realized-his-own-strength better than Regular Kenpachi + Unohana Who Is No Longer Fucking Around? uidghqueghiqergoiewkrgljek

- Up until this point, I have enjoyed the humor in Kenpachi’s character in the sense that he never really tries, and when he does, it’s something insanely dumb like “use two hands” and he makes a huge deal out of it, but then to turn it around and be like “oh, but he’s so strong he’s more important than someone else’s life even though he doesn’t put anything into it,” is just really galling and I hate it.

- I reject the notion that Kenpachi is a “good dad.” He hangs out with a small child. That is not parenting. We never see him providing for Yachiru, advising her through a difficulty, imparting values to her, or even teaching her anything. Mostly, we see her supporting him, when she’s not running around unsupervised. She is, in fact, static, un-growing and unchanging. For all we know, she may de-materialize for large stretches of time. (Once again: I have read very good fanfics about Zaraki being a father, I just don’t think it’s supported by the text). I actually think that’s kind of cool, that he’s just out here vibing with a small child that is really a projection of his own soul, but I do not like it being credited to him as if he's up early baking allergy-free muffins for her or negotiating IEPs.

- The Gremmy - Kenpachi fight was interminable. I did rather like the ending, where Gremmy’s body wasn’t strong enough, but it took so long to get there and it was not worth it.

- I am only interested in Yachiru as a feral zanpakutou spirit. Small children are not particularly interesting to me as characters. I wish that there had been some sort of spiritual connection between her and Unohana, like if she had splintered off of Unohana’s own zanpakutou in order to go make a shinigami strong enough for Unohana to fight. That would have slapped.

- It would have been much cooler if Yachiru had killed Zaraki or absorbed him into herself somehow and gone on to be the new Kenpachi, with Unohana as her mentor.

[pradadoie]

A full translation of HXX’s second victim’s post - Part 4

The second time I met him was at the Shenyang Skechers event (21st December 2019, morning). I was supposed to meet him at the event, but I ended up catching a fever and rested in the hotel instead. This was also the time I learnt that he was contacting a few other fans from China (she knew it from her friend). After the event, he came to look for me at night. 

First pic 

HXX: But I think there are a lot of fans here (in the hotel)

OP: Just swipe the room key in the lift and come up to the 22nd floor

HXX: alright

OP: Maybe you can come later

HXX: I just woke up

OP: Ok, go eat something first

HXX: ok

OP: Should I just visit you now?

HXX: You know what, It’s fine! I will just meet you later

OP: Yea, meet me later

HXX: Do you think I should wash up first

Second Pic

HXX: Which

HXX: number

HXX: Is it?

OP: 2202

HXX: But you have a fever

HXX: Is it really alright with you? 

OP: It’s fine, I feel much better now

OP: I’m just freezing a little

HXX: Alright

HXX: I won’t arrive that fast

HXX: I’ll tell you when I’m on the way up

OP: Alright

HXX: I’m coming up now

HXX: Open the door for me

HXX: Ok?

OP: ok 

Third Pic

OP mentioned that she could only find these few screenshots as proof as she changed her phone prior to making this post - causing her to lose some of the chats between the both of them. She kept these screenshots above, which are dated 21st December 2019. 

This was also the time where we didn’t use any protection (while having sex). During that time, I asked him to put one (condom) on, and he said it’s alright/fine. I assumed that he wasn’t in a good/healthy condition. After having sex, he mentioned that it has been a year since he had sex, and once again, I believed his words. What I did not know was that he (supposedly in a bad state) went back to Seoul that night to meet up and flirt with other women. 

After said intimate actions, I asked him about the other fan. He immediately admitted that the girl happened to be the Chinese fan who we talked about the other day. They had a meal together and hugged each other in a friendly way to express gratitude. They did not do anything else other than that, HXX even showed me their (HXX and the chinese fan) Wechat chat logs, the chinese fan sent him affectionate messages and I could tell that she genuinely liked him and had strong feelings for him. However, his replies were simple (T/n: The chinese word for this has more nuance - it implies that he never put in any effort into the replies he sent to the chinese fan). During that time, I thought it really wasn’t nice of him to show me their private chat logs, but I liked him too much, I understood where he was coming from and appreciated the fact that he was able to be transparent about their relations together, and that the chinese fan’s feelings for him were just one sided. 

He expressed his fear of the chinese fan spreading the story and I asked him whether he was afraid of losing his fans. He responded saying - “I’m not afraid of losing fans because it doesn’t matter to me, I’m more afraid of the company finding out.” I told him to pretend to switch his accounts and ghost her (to not contact her anymore), and he kept emphasizing that he was really afraid, and wouldn’t stop smoking cigarette after cigarette, finishing an entire pack of cigarettes within two hours. I tried to comfort him and give him advice, thinking back, I was probably deceived by his lies as well. 

After that, he would tell me that his schedules are getting more packed and he was getting more popular, and we wouldn’t be able to meet up. Thinking about it now, he was probably giving me a vaccination (T/n: OP used a metaphor, possibly to describe what HXX said in order to make her immune to other men). I jokingly brushed it off and said when that happens I would pursue another male Hong Kong celebrity, and to annoy/playfully aggravate him, I told him that I used to like this male celebrity, he told me: “His girlfriend is my friend, we filmed a program together and we even cleaned our ears together.” Our conversation shifted to the artists who were under the same company as him, he said although he fooled around (T/n: Going out and having fun), he thinks artists like K*is *u were dumb (T/n: OP used the word “傻逼”, aka moron - which came out of HXX’s mouth), took training for granted and never practiced, instead he spent his time playing around. Although I agreed with his opinion on this, he was essentially a pot calling the kettle black. The things you do aren’t any better, if his nickname is “Toothpick Wu” then your nickname should be “Needle Huang/Wong” (T/N: “Toothpick Wu” is a nickname given to Kr*s W* because of his small...you know, which was mentioned in one of his victim’s posts. OP may be insinuating that HXX’s small as well)

As he talked about himself and his body, he mentioned that his body wasn’t suitable for heavy workouts. Because of his small head size, working out heavily will make him look like a muscular barbie (T/n: slang for girls with a pretty face and a muscular body). At that moment, he mentioned his participation in the Korean military show (Titled: Real Men), where he faked a lower back injury/pain in order to leave the show earlier because he felt that it was too exhausting. Are you even worth your fans' concern by doing something like that? He also complained that the mainland entertainment shows he participated in edited him maliciously and made him look like an idiot - which made him contemplate on whether he should appear in the next season because he hated it. 

Previously, I gave him a ring as a gift, which he wore most of the time - which was why I asked whether he could give me something that I could keep around me at all times, he refused and said he would never do things like this. He also mentioned that he had to take our couple ring (that I gifted him) off in order to comply with the show’s styling during recording sessions and told me not to overthink about it. I told him I would give him many rings so he could switch it out anytime and he said yes. 

Apart from that, he strikes me as a boy with childlike innocence (T/n: read between the lines when OP says that, it's just a metaphor for innocence), at least that's what I thought. He believed that we would be able to travel to the moon sometime in our lives (T/N: WayV - Moonwalk?)I asked him if I could follow him and he smirked while saying he would think about it. Then I said if I earn enough money to get tickets and travel to the moon with him, would he follow? He responded saying “Then we can.”

In the end, he couldn’t give his everything to me, but I was willing to give everything to him. 

[goodnightkisseu]

Time To Heal - Chapter 7

→ pairing: sehun x reader

→ genre: fluff, angst, struggling musician sehun x rich reader

→ word count: 4,054

→ warnings: none

→ summary: you had your life planned out for you ever since you were a little girl. However, when your friend, Baekhyun, takes you with him to his old hangout, you meet someone, someone you were willing to risk your parents’ criticism to be with. His name was Oh Sehun. But, in the end, what you really should have asked yourself, was if Sehun was ready to face your parents…

→ masterlist // exo masterlist // time to heal masterlist

→ [prologue] [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7]

→ updates taglist~: @chanyeolol​​​ @meryljill-111192​​​ @sehunscutiepie​​​​ @hi-cupid​​​ @lilian235​​​

note: we are coming up on the end of this series! ;A; honestly I’ve fallen back in love with it as I’ve been editing it for all of you to read ;; I hope that you’ll all enjoy this chapter!

Also, please let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story~

- ash <3

Over the last two years, you had run through hundreds of scenarios in your mind. You theorized about seeing Sehun again, about the things that you would say to each other, but nothing quite amounted to what happened when you actually met. It was definitely awkward, and rightfully so in your eyes. It had been years, and there was no way for either of you to grasp the type of pain the other went through. However, seeing each other again didn't feel nearly as bad as you had expected. You had a nice dinner, and Sehun even went out of his way to apologize for his past behavior. That was never something you had planned to hear.

When you told Baekhyun about your encounter with Sehun, your friend was quick to ask how you felt. He knew it had been trying for you, so, for the meeting to take a completely different turn than you had hypothesized, it was likely a shock. And honestly, you weren't sure if you even knew how you felt. Sehun was someone that had broken your heart, and never did you think he'd feel remorse for it. But you could tell that he was aware of his actions, and that felt more in line with the Sehun that you knew. Your feelings towards him at the moment were... complicated.

Yet, as complicated as they were, you weren't going to let them stand in the way of his apparent efforts to make amends. Additionally, you felt like accepting his apology might have been the step that you needed to move on with your life, to keep him from running through your mind. So, after receiving his new number from Baekhyun, you sent a simple message. It read, "Let's put the past behind us and move forward. Good luck with your new single, and I can't wait to hear it!"

In the days that followed, you felt a sense of relief, weight lifted off of your shoulders. It felt like making amends after all of this time was the right move. It felt right to move forward, and that was what you did. Slowly, you found yourself emerging from this space that had only been occupied by you and Baekhyun. You started to go out again, whether you were invited by Baekhyun or your coworkers. You started living that life that you had unknowingly put on hold. The more time you spent with others, the more you felt like a whole person, your own person again. You were able to have fun, to chat with them, to really experience life in the way you wanted to.

And in due time, you even started dating again.  

Nothing was ever quite permanent. It had been a long time. You had to rediscover and realize what you were actually looking for in a significant other. Guys came and went, but you never quite clicked with any of them... until Changmin. He was your longest relationship after Sehun, though it only lasted for a little over half a year. The two of you had met during fashion week. Your parents sent you to oversee their part of the show, as they had some other business out of the country. You had met backstage while you were directing some of your models, and he taking pictures of the different lines from each company. Something at that moment just clicked for the both of you.

Coincidentally, Changmin was someone that your parents had been trying to set you up with for years. He ran an editorial company that was well respected across the industry. To your parents, it was a match made in heaven for you and your business. He was a nice man, and his reputation had the possibility of boosting up your family's brand. The potential for both companies to grow together was exponential. Your parents were thrilled.

Unfortunately, it didn't work out. You weren't sure exactly what drove you apart. Everything had been going so well for the two of you... until it wasn't. It could have been the extra hours that you had to put in to get the new line ready for the coming season. It could have been the fact that Changmin was overseas for most of the year, the two of you only meeting up when he was in town. Honestly, you spent so much time apart you wouldn't have been surprised if maybe you fell out of it because he already had someone else. At the end of the day, the relationship came to an end, much to your parents' disappointment.

Admittedly, it was painful losing Changmin. During those periods where the two of you had been inseparable when your relationship was in a good state, you had started to depend on him. With things in Baekhyun's life picking up, Changmin had become your source of comfort in your best friend's absence. Now that he was gone, you felt that emptiness again. It was that same type of void you felt when Sehun exited your life, and like a creature of habit, you threw yourself back into your work. The only difference was that you didn't close yourself off this time. You still went out, had a good time with the people closest to you, but with your career picking up, you decided that there wasn't time for another serious relationship.

Instead, you had to focus on your true passion, your job. And in seemingly no time at all, three years passed.

You had been working hard to learn the ins and outs of the industry, immersing yourself in everything it had to offer. You went to every show, board meeting, and kept your focus on learning how the business was run.  With retirement around the corner, your parents very naturally started to give you more control of the company. They were transitioning you into the full-time over and representative in their absence. And though it had been stressful at first, time and patience made it all a bit easier. Everyone that worked at the fashion house gave you time, and for that, you were grateful. You still had a lot to learn, but with your parents' excitement with their newest line, you knew that you had no choice but to make sure that it did well.

Today was filled to the brim with work, much like your schedule had been for the last few months. You were to oversee the photoshoot for the new line, so that morning, bright and early, you drove out to the studio, meeting the rest of your staff in the large open building. You worked with the stylists to organize the clothes in an easy to access manner. You talked with the makeup artists about which looks would suit the different moods and styles of the wardrobe pieces. You coordinated with Jinhee, the lead for this line, making sure that you had each checked off everything on your list. She was in high spirits today, and you couldn't help but chuckle at her eagerness.

The entire time that Jinhee had been working on this line, she had a model in mind that she wanted to represent it. She was never forthcoming with his name, but this was something that you had all grown accustomed to. She didn't want to ruin the surprise for anyone because, to her, the model was such a big part of making the line come together, and she wanted everyone to properly experience that. What she had said about him was that he wasn't a model by trade. He was someone that worked in the entertainment industry and had a knack for photographing well. Many magazines had asked him to be a part of their issue, and each photoshoot turned out better than the last. So, when the model walked arrived, you weren't sure exactly what to expect.

Well, you knew one thing you weren't anticipating. You hadn't suspected that it would be Sehun.

As one of your interns gave him a tour of the set, blushing like mad whenever he would throw her a smile, you couldn't help but realize how strangely life worked. It almost felt like a twisted form of fate to bring the two of you together like this. Even though it was for a work function, it still felt very surreal. You hadn't seen Sehun in years. Life had picked up so quickly that the last time the two of you met up was about a month after you reunited at his concert. But it wasn't just you that got busy. It was also Sehun.

From what the news and Baekhyun told you, the single that Sehun had mentioned was in the works when the two of you last met was the one that shot them to stardom. It didn't make waves on its initial release, but the more that people heard it, the more interest the band garnered. Within a month, the song topped the charts for multiple weeks on end, a feat that had been difficult for many artists in recent years. Sehun and the band started to get more recognition. They ended up doing lots of interviews and television appearances. Their schedule got so packed that even Baekhyun had a hard time meeting up with them. The two of you lamented about how the job of a celebrity must have been hard. Still, you knew that, no matter what, Sehun would always keep in contact with Baekhyun, even if it was just a simple text.

You would also send Sehun a message from time to time, though you rarely expected an answer, unlike your friend. Granted, your words were usually congratulatory, messages of excitement when a new album or tour was announced. Sehun's answers in reply were always rather simple, typically a 'thank you' or something along those lines. He would do the same for you, mostly if he saw good things about your company in the headlines, about how innovative it was or how well it was doing. The two of you would sometimes chat after that, filling the void, but it never got personal. It was strange to think that, at one point, you were in love.

But now, you were just acquaintances. Ones that would check in on each other from time to time. It definitely made Baekhyun's life easier, not having to dance around when he talked about the two of you. Still, there was something rather... bittersweet about it.

You had been so busy running around, making sure that everything was in place, that you didn't get a chance to properly greet Sehun at first. It wasn't until your intern brought him over to meet the team that the two of you finally met. Everyone happily greeted him, lamenting on his handsome features. You knew that he couldn't show it, but the way that his eyes locked on your own, you knew that he was surprised to see you. Still, he politely greeted everyone, and you did the same, inviting him to sit and relax for a bit while you worked with the team on the finishing touches.

Overall, the photoshoot went rather well. It was outfit after outfit, lighting change after lighting change, and makeup touchups, but every time you studied the monitor or watched the live shoot in front of you, you had to admit that Jinhee was right. Sehun really did fit this type of styling. Granted, you were sure that Sehun could pull off anything, as he was the type that always made what he wore seem comfortable and fitting to him, this particular set of colors, combined with this strong features, completed the look. He really suited the vibe that the higherups were looking for from this line, and you were relieved. The slight awkwardness for you was well worth the results, in your opinion.

As everyone prepared for the next set of outfits, your eyes wandered around, making sure that everything was proceeding as expected. Your eyes eventually landed on one of your stylists as she helped Sehun into his next outfit. Yet, something about it felt... off. Slowly, you left your spot behind the monitors and approached them, the issue catching your eye immediately.

"Hyerin, this type of shirt doesn't lie quite like that," you told her, the young woman jumping slightly when she heard your voice. You apologized for scaring her before you proceeded to direct her on how to adjust the fabric. However, instead of doing what you suggested, she moved out of the way instead, leaving you to pick up the material and fix it yourself. Though, as you worked, you never focused on the person in front of you, only on the clothes.

"It's more like this," you told her, demonstrating how the cloth should lie. "The style is more open, so you want to make sure that it sits comfortably on the model's shoulders," you instructed. You saw Hyerin nod, thanking you before she excused herself to get the next outfit ready. You continued to fiddle with the fabric for a bit longer, making sure that it suited the style you were looking for. Once you finished, you turned to head back to the monitors, when the male in front of you finally spoke.

"I didn't expect to see you today. I had no idea that you were directing photoshoots now," Sehun stated. His words managed to stop you from walking away, and inwardly he was glad. This was the first time in years that you were in front of him again, and everything in his being told him to keep you there, to keep you talking.

"Well, I've been promoted a couple of times since we last met up. The upside is that I have more say in everything now. The obvious downside is the responsibilities and the lack of sleep," you joked, wanting to keep it light between the two of you. Yet, you also knew that you needed to address the obvious elephant in the room, as well. "By the way, I'm sorry if this is a bit uncomfortable for you. Jinhee never disclosed the name of the model she wanted for this photoshoot. I never would have known that you would be the one to show up, or else I would have asked for someone else to direct..."

Gently, Sehun shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'm actually not uncomfortable at all. We did decide to put all of that behind us, didn't we?" he inquired, seeing that small smile cross your features as you gave him a nod. "Actually, if I'm, to be honest, I'm glad you're here. It's good to see you, and your presence has helped to ease my nerves..."

At that moment, you dared to look up at him, your eyes looking into his, getting lost in those gentle dark orbs you used to love so much. As much as you were a source of calm for Sehun, he had been the same for you. Honestly, no photoshoot you had ever directed had gone as smoothly as today's had, and though you didn't want to admit it at first, Sehun definitely was a factor in it.

"It's nice to see you as well," you told him earnestly. There was more that you wanted to say, but when the photographer announcing that he was ready for the next set of shots, it cut you off before you could. "Keep up the good work, okay?" you told him, before running back to your previous position, picking up your things and getting right back to work.

"I... I missed you..." Sehun murmured to himself, the words that he wanted to speak to you directly, but wasn't able to. It annoyed him that he didn't just say them, but he knew that there were other things to focus on at the moment, and that was not one fo them. Instead, he moved back under the bright lights, going straight to work, in front of the cameras that he had grown accustomed to.

After the two of you met up again, having made amends for the past, it became painfully apparent to Sehun that he missed having you in his life. At first, he had thought it was just a fleeting feeling, a strong sense of nostalgia at your presence, but as the weeks and then months passed, he knew it was more than that. There were days, after long hours of practice that he longed for your comforting and supportive aura, that presence that used to calm him when things were difficult. He missed that beautiful smile you would give him and the way it would light up the room around you. He missed your encouraging words, the ones that would lift his spirits and make the days more comfortable. Sehun knew that all of these small things, these things that he used to love about you, were things that he wanted in his life again.

For a long time, he told himself that they were things that he could no longer have. He convinced himself that he had broken the relationship beyond repair. Instead, he found solace in your little congratulatory messages and the light conversation that would follow. Yet, he wanted more. He craved for more conversation, for more interactions, and eventually, he threw his pride aside and asked Baekhyun about how you were doing. What he hadn't expected his friend to tell him was that you moved on, that you had started to date again.

It wasn't something that surprised Sehun, and he knew that it was bound to happen. He wanted you to be happy to find someone that made you happy. It just pained him that he might not be able to be that person for you anymore. He found himself interacting with you less, trying to still the pain of his own heart. Work became his best distraction, and he stopped hoping that anything would change between the two of you.

Seeing you today, though it was a surprise, also brought some of those feelings to the surface again. Sehun knew where he was, and that, as professionals, you both had a job to do. But still... he wondered... if maybe...

The remainder of the shoot went smoothly. There weren't too many lighting changes or even makeup changes for the rest of the day. A majority of it was just getting Sehun in and out of the remaining outfits, something that the stylists could handle on their own. You continued to monitor from a distance, only piping up if something felt off. In the early evening was when the photoshoot finally came to an end. You thanked everyone for all of their hard work in making this line look and feel as amazing as it did before you all started to pack up for the day. You helped sort through the clothes, making sure that they were put in the correct boxes while your photographer and his team packed away all of their lights.

As people shuffled around the noise level at its highest for the day, you almost didn't notice the older man approaching you. It was Sehun's manager, and the moment that he got your attention, he asked if you would have a minute to speak with Sehun later. It seemed like your old acquaintance wanted to see you. In turn, you asked if it would be possible to meet with Sehun after your staff had left, and the man agreed, going to relay the information to his charge.

Once everything was accounted for and neatly stowed away, you helped your team move everything out to the vans that were parked outside. They informed you that they would be able to get everything back to the studio on their own, and you thanked them. When all of the cars were gone, you made your way back into the building, the space larger now that it was emptied out. You heard the sound of footsteps approaching the room as a familiar and tall figure entered, giving you a small wave. Sehun arrived without his manager in tow, and you could only imagine that he was downstairs, waiting for the artist.

"So, why did you want to talk to me in private?" you asked softly.

"I figured that you wouldn't want the people you worked with to gossip, so I thought this would be better. It is a private matter at all, between us," he replied, seeing you gently nod. Both of you were aware of the damage that could be done if rumors started flying. You may have been in a relationship before, but it wasn't well-known by anyone. Something like that coming out could be detrimental to both him and you... mainly if people went digging for information.  

Still, now that he was given this time alone with you, he wasn't too sure how to proceed. What were the proper words to use in this situation? Maybe, he just needed to say it. "Earlier... I wanted to say that I missed you."

Everything that Sehun had to say lately felt like it surprised you, though you tried not to let it read on your features. There was a time when you had also missed his presence. Over the years, you decided not to depend on that old feeling too much. You had tried to move on, but you couldn't deny that he had been a big part of your life, and that, sometimes, you would miss him too. You just never thought that he'd admit that, given how things had gone before.

"I... I feel the same sometimes," you confessed, seeing that bit of surprise flicker across his features.

"I guess... I guess that's a natural feeling for both of us. That sometimes, it could be weird not having the other around," he explained, watching you nod. "It feels like something is... missing, right?"

You nodded. Sehun was hitting the nail right on the head, but you weren't entirely sure where he was going with this, and you wanted to know. You wanted him to make a move.

"I know that we can't be who we were before, but I miss your companionship. We said we would make amends, and we've started to, but I would like to try harder. I would like for us to be able to confide in each other again. I know that pain doesn't expire, and I'm not saying that we just throw all of that out the window, but I... I miss having you around as a friend. The guys are great, but they don't understand me like you do..."

It was apparent from his words that Sehun shared your sentiments. You, too, had missed the comfort and safety that he used to provide for you. Before, it wasn't just Baekhyun that you could run to, but Sehun too. Often, you would even feel more comfortable speaking to Sehun about things than Baekhyun. Maybe having that back... it would be nice. It was better than hiding those troubles away from the world.

"It's going to be strange and awkward, you know. Going back to being friends... there's obvious damage that's been done," you pointed out.

"I'm well aware. But I think, because we're aware of it, we won't try to push it if it doesn't feel right," Sehun added. "Plus, don't you think it would make Baek happy? You know, getting to spend time with the both of us, and not having to have split custody?"

You scoffed. "You know how I feel about Baek, Sehun. I have a soft spot for him. You can't go using him against me..."

"Unfortunately, Baek is the only card I have to play. After all, you're his ride or die," he teased, a gentle smile lining his features.

The silence grew between the two of you, and you were the first to speak up after giving it some thought. "Then let's give it a try. For old time's sake."

With that confirmation, Sehun gave you a small nod and a smile. As he saw you off that night, Sehun felt the void in his heart filled. Though he didn't know how to express it, having you back in his life, even as a friend, made him whole again...

[moved99999999999]

U guys wanna know what I think about that hell hotel show

I feel like twitter’s very tired of seeing ppl talk about Hazbin Hotel, so I putting my opinions on tumblr where they belong. I’m not a “professional critic” by any means, but I’ll try my best given what I know. And don’t worry, I’ll be incredibly nit-picky to suit the internet’s needs.

I’m gonna mainly focus on HH itself instead of Vivzie’s accusations because that's a WHOLE other can of worms to open.

During the time of me writing this, I haven’t watched any YT reviews, but I’ve read a few threads criticising the show, so take that as my social influence bias.

My ted talk is allllll below the cut. Enjoy~

Context: 

My first exposure of Vivzie’s work was her “Die Young” animation that I came across around 2016. Instantly I fell in love with how “smooth” and lively her animation was, and especially the fact that it was hand drawn. Animation like that was extremely rare to come by (and still is) and seeing her execute it so well with such complexed characters was amazing to my fetus self. 

A few years later and I see the first trailer for HH. I instantly went OH I RECOGNISE THAT STYLE AND THOSE CHARACTER TYPE DESIGNS and was looking forward to what it had to offer. 

On “opening day” I watched the pilot ASAP to avoid my opinions from getting warped by all of the key-mash memes and post call-out bitching (literally the extremes of the HH opinion spectrum), and overall.....

I thought it was good. 

Not ground breakingly amazing, not horrifically terrible, but charmingly good.

(Ok now it’s actual review time)

Animation Quality:

As a hand drawn animation that has the freedom to get creative with its shots, a lot of effort was clearly put into how everything moves (it definitely didn’t take any lazy flash puppet shortcuts for the main sections of the show) and I can appreciate that. However it tends to be... rather inconsistent, most likely due to the varying skill level of the animators on the project. It’ll be nice and smooth one minute, and then awkward and choppy the next which can make the viewing pretty confusing at times. I’ll be honest I found myself overlooking these inconsistencies due to the characters and backgrounds themselves being very visually engaging, especially considering how over designed some of them can be (which I applaud the team for handling cuz wow that must have been painful). However, the needle thin and exaggerated art style makes some things incredibly hard to look at. While it helps with adding fancy details, it hurts in catching peoples eyes in the right place.

It’s also chalk full of little details, visual gags, and references that are hilarious to look at if you have the luxury of pausing every two seconds (the news segment and Sir Pentious turf war w/ Angel and Cherri are good places to look). But I feel like these lil details were put in at the cost of some some continuity errors (Charlie not wearing her coat in one shot, and having it back on in the next, papers being blank, etc.) and lip-syncing issues which really shouldn’t be happening considering all of the detail they were able to put in. There are also some shots that have just SO MUCH detail put into them, only to be shown for less than a second. I get that’s the cost of animation sometimes, but save the detail for the shots that need it, because at that point you’re just causing the animators to waste their efforts.

However, I was surprised at how professional the soundtrack and editing was. Not one but THREE songs in this single episode was really surprising, and the variation and quality of each was great (as cringy as Charlie’s song is)

But overall, the production quality is surprisingly good for a project like this, the editing, sound effects, and sound track act like a cherry on top. Of course there are some noticeable drops in quality, but given time and a budget, it has enough chops to look like an actual show.

Writing: 

As far as overarching plot goes, it seems like it’s going to be one of those procedural shows that tries to be serialised, but it’s a creative twist on hell and has an interesting premise to begin with. You can get really creative with seeing how you’d dive into getting redemption out of all of these seemingly lost causes, and I’m sure there are many people willing to know the backstories our main cast. As a pilot, it did it’s job of launching the plot very well, setting up the premise of the hotel and introducing characters in a very engaging way. I was legit really interested in each segment with who in introduced, and it didn’t feel like I was being overloaded with names to remember (which can be a problem for many medias and introductions). The cohesion between each scene is VERY smooth, and I genuinely enjoyed some of the cliché cuts/gags. 

Unfortunately I can’t extend this interest to our main character. Charlie is one of the most generic tropes we’ve ever seen. She’s a boring Disney princess who has a “cute happy positive goal to change her world” and the only thing that would make her more generic is if she wore a dress and cried “I’m tired of being so privileged”. 

(Although it’s impossible to tell, I honestly think Viv is just projecting through her, especially considering how horrifically accurate the hotel’s opening mirrors the internet’s reaction to the pilot itself)

I would be more forgiving if she was a supporting character or someone less important, but she’s the freaking protagonist, arguably the character that has to be the most interesting. Angel’s personality seems to be “flirty porn star”, and while that’s just as bad as being a boring Disney princess, at least he gets a few jokes and has a profession more interesting than Charlie’s. Around the end of the pilot he just seems like he’s getting involved because Viv likes giving him attention. If he’s supposed to be leeching off of the hotel, wouldn’t not care if it survives or not?

(There’s that whole stereotype issue that everyone keeps bringing up, but I genuinely think that’s BS because people are blatantly ignoring the fact that Angel is a porn star, Vaggie is portrayed as helpful, and that the show takes place in H E double hokey sticks.)

The transitions may be smooth, but the dialogue pacing can get really awkward at times. This paired with the animation sometimes having awkward quality drops makes some movements incredibly jagged, and has some detailed shots show for incredibly unbalanced screen time as mentioned before. 

I don’t have enough to give voice acting it’s own section so I’m just popping it down here:

The voice acting is legitimately better than several big name projects I know. It’s consistent, great at expressing the character’s mood properly, and each voice fits each character perfectly. My only gripes are that Alastor and Sir Pentious tend to grain on you after awhile due to them keeping a single tone for too long. 

Character Design: AKA the only thing I have legitimate experience with.

First thing’s first. The characters are WAY too over designed. There are so many markings and accessories that are incredibly unnecessary. I think the mindset for these characters was “the more complicated and attractive the better”, which makes them look like they’re designed by an edgy tumblr artist (heck I fall for this too some times).

Especially if a character is going to be animated, you have to keep in mind the value of simplicity. You absolutely don’t have to fill in your character with markings and trinkets to make them look unique, I mean just look at the gen 1 pokemon starters. Thanks to the limitations of the game, the sprites were forced to be simple, and it was that simplicity that made them such unique and varied creatures. You can tell Blastoise is a bulky water blasting turtle just with a quick glance. 

Many of the characters suffer from over complication, but I’ll look at Husk for example. He has these stripes all over him that do not contribute to who he’s supposed to be at all, and only look like they’re added to make him more unique. The markings that DO help are the little card suite marks on his wings, because those at least infer he’s linked to a casino/gambling type of theme. I would say his outfit helps as well, but formal wear and bowties are worn way to often by the main characters, which brings me to another problem.

They may look different, but they feel way too similar. From the same skinny body type, to generic head shapes, to outfits, the focus characters just don’t stand out amongst each other. Even the ones with interesting features still suffer from feeling generic. I’d say Sir Pentious is a good example of this. He has a serpentine/naga body and clever hair style that make his concept really creative, but his skinny body type, complicated eyes all over his tail, and generic “young but supposed to be at least middle aged” face just push him back into obscurity. He’s even wearing the SAME outfit as Alastor (who's an even worse offender of that generic face problem), and unless Viv has some plan to link the two, I’d say the characters need to stop using a dress code.

A successful character design can to tell you who the character is just by looking at them. You should be able to tell if a character’s personality, function, age, the universe they belong in, and if they’re important or not, and that’s a big problem when it comes to the background characters. If you pause on one of the extras for a minute you can see all of the effort put into designing them, and that takes away so much attention from the main cast. Not only that, but they have actual variations in their body types and outfits, which makes them more intriguing than who we’re supposed to be interested in.

Regardless, this pilot has potential, and if they can get someone to comb out the flaws, you can end up with something good. No one can deny a legitimate animation was made here, and the team successfully executed the start of a story, and that’s something anyone can look up to.

TLDR: The pilot is good. It has some major flaws, but it has potential to be a good show.

If you actually read this far epstein didn’t kill himself.

[theonyxpath]

More Q&A – because YOU requested it! Well, maybe not you personally, but we sure did get a great response to last week’s blog…So We’re Doin’ It Again!

“But seriously, why is International shipping so high on the KSs?”

What backers are seeing from us on the Kickstarter pages are the shipping numbers we have received from our fulfillment partners, and no, they aren’t inflating them and we aren’t inflating them – those are what we are hearing from shippers like Fedex and USPS and others.

The fact is: we are not Amazon. We aren’t C’Mon Games or other companies that send out a massive volume of packages. We’re in the same boat as a lot of TTRPG companies, many of whom are dropping international shipping entirely. Instead, we made the call to give our backers the up-front info so they can make intelligent decisions, while we continue to search for less costly shipping options.

“Why aren’t all Storypath Games the same?”

I’m assuming that this is in reference to the Storypath System, and not the settings for each game line that uses it. Because that’s the only way the question makes sense to me.

One of my goals with the Storypath System was that it be flexible enough to work as the basis for any game we care to create with it, and part of that design was that the basic system would then have additional rules attached to it depending on the game line’s needs.

Or, here is more from Eddy Webb, who has been overseeing the Storypath games, as well as doing design work on the system. He sez:

Each game takes the core system and tweaks it in a variety of ways to better emphasize what’s important in that game. A game about myths like Scion doesn’t need comprehensive weapon mechanics, but a game about salvaging equipment like Dystopia Rising does.

Basically, Storypath was never intended to be exactly the same with every line that uses it, like a generic system, but to allow a base level of familiarity so players just need to look into specific, game line intrinsic, additional rules.

“Why won’t you publish all the Clan/Tribe/Tradition/etc books again?”

OK, that’s a multi-part answer, so let me unpack a bit on this one.

First, and very specifically, we aren’t recreating the “Splat books” as we do new editions because those lil’ books aren’t cost-effective to create with our current publishing model. We do however, love to gather the “splats” into larger books like we’ve already done with Lore of the Clans, or Lore of the Bloodlines.

Which brings us to the second part of this, which is what I touched on in last week’s blog, which is that we don’t have carte-blanche to create just any WoD (or CofD or Exalted) books that we want to create. We have to have their pitches approved by our licensor, White Wolf/Paradox, before we can do any work at all on projects.

So what I’m saying is that we wouldn’t just recreate the old splat books, but we would do a differently formatted version, and that version still needs to be greenlit by our licensor. And right now, that has not happened.

Aeon Aexpansion art by Pat McEvoy

“Why are there approvals stages for Scion or Scarred Lands- don’t you own those?”

The business productivity answer is that we try and keep our processes the same in game book creation to make them go through the stages consistently.

The RichT answer is that I want to be able to review, tweak, and fine-tune the game lines my company owns. I mean, I do it with our licensed game lines, so by crackee, I’m doing with my own durn games!

“What stores carry your books?”

Y’know, I don’t actually know all of them at this point! What we hear from our sales partners at Studio2 and Indie Press Revolution, is that more and more stores are ordering as they become aware that we are putting select books into the distribution/retail channel.

So the notices I see are focused on which distributors have ordered what, although I do still get a chance to chat with retailers who pledge during our Kickstarters. Some of those folks have been with us since our first KSs, like our friends at Trollune in France, and more come on board with each KS.

Mighty Matt McElroy is a lot more hands-on with stores and retailers, and maybe we’re at the point where he’d be willing to pull together some sort of Retailer list we could post on this site. I will ask him very, very, nicely if such a thing could be added to his already massive workload.

But be sure that we truly appreciate each and every order from retailers that our sales partners receive. A Friendly Local Game Store is one of the best places to learn about all sort of games, new and old, and we’re glad we were able to figure out a way to once again get books into those shelves!

And if your FLGS doesn’t yet know that they can order books from their favorite distributor like Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition, or Scion: Origin and Scion: Hero, or Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau and others, with even more yet to come like V5 Chicago By Night and the Trinity Continuum books, then please, let them know, let us know, let the world know, that you want them to order our books for you!

Witch Queen art by Nate Pride

“What are YOU excited about that’s coming from Onyx Path?”

Scion: Demigod and Titanomancy to continue the core Scion mythological experience, and Dragon and Mythos to show how Scion has potential beyond that experience. Trinity Continuum: similarly, very excited to bring back Aeon and Aberrant as lines and especially to revisit Adventure! and deliver an exciting game that emulates all the Pulp Genre excitement that I’ve loved during countless hours reading Doc Savage and The Avenger, but in a way that’s compelling for a modern audience. Then, to finally expand from the three original game lines to other time periods and genres with new games that we’re working on but haven’t announced yet.

Legendlore is another game line I’m really looking forward to. In fact, I think the developed text should be coming my way later this week, or next week, and I can’t want to see what Steffie De Vaan and team have done to take this long-established world and bring it up-to-date and relevant like I mentioned about TC: Adventure!

White Wolf gamelines: For CofD, I’m champing at the bit to start sharing Deviant: The Renegades during its Kickstarter. I’ve loved the concept of the wronged seeking revenge for what was done to them since the project was conceptualized, and Dave and Eric and crew have really delivered on that premise, and more! It’s gut-wrenching, horrific, but also empowering!

For Exalted 3rd, I’m really glad we’re finally doing the Storyteller’s Guide, which combined with another book we’re waiting to hear back on from WW, will provide players and prospective Storytellers with a lot of answers and material that fill in some of the blanks in the core EX3 rulebook. Hopefully, these sections will allow even more players to “get” Exalted 3rd, and so they’ll all want to GET Exalted 3rd!

And, of course, I really can’t expand on much for WoD without the OK from WW/Paradox, but we’ve been so thrilled by the reaction to the V5 Chicago By Night Backer PDF that I’m really looking forward to the next WoD projects from Matthew Dawkins, as well as finally delivering our outstanding 20th Anniversary projects!

Distant Worlds art by Rutledge

They Came From…!: Speaking of Matthew, he is gravely hard at work digging into new sources of fun and inspiration for the follow-up They Came From game, and I’m such a fan of the whole genre/time period it covers that I can’t wait to read it!

Creature Collection 5e: for Scarred Lands looks to be gorgeous! I’m both jealous that Johnny Hodgson was able to pull together so many fantastic artists, and thrilled that our efforts with his Handiworks Games is producing such a fantastic book. Look for its KS soon!

These aren’t advertising blurbs here folks! I truly am excited to be able to bring all of these game lines to life, and to be part of bringing them to all of you – as well as those poor misguided souls who don’t yet read this scintillating blog, or know of our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Keep an eye out in this space as well as on our social media for the Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter that will be launching after August wraps up!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an interview with one of the unsung new talents of Onyx Path and one of the nicest people working in the TTRPG industry: Meredith Gerber! Go to https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/ or to your favorite podcast venue!

No Onyx Path News this week, with Matthew having been away at Tabletop Scotland! But here’s a nice photo of his group at that convention enjoying a session of They Came from Beneath the Sea!

Here’s our upcoming Twitch schedule, and as you can see, it’s getting very full of content! Between Travis Legge’s Myths & Matchmakers for Scarred Lands, Near Dark Studios‘ Chicago by Night, our very own Pugmire: Paws and Claws and Aberrant: Collateral Damage, and more, we think you’ll find something to entertain you! Even if you don’t, we’d very much appreciate a follow on www.twitch.tv/theonyxpath!

Outside our Twitch channel, the Botch Pit have started up a new chronicle for Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition! And if you’re not into actual plays, they also do breakdowns of lots of our other games: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQfcGvYILEV1vznP5__bOWg

Did you check out the www.gamerstable.com for their actual play of A Slippery Conspiracy? No? Well, now’s the time to catch up and give their actual play of They Came from Beneath the Sea! a listen!

Devil’s Luck Gaming continues with Pirates of Bloodwater for Scarred Lands right here: https://www.twitch.tv/DevilsLuckGaming Also check them out for an excellent Shadowrun actual play they’ve started. We know it’s not our game, but we’re happy to promote such a fine cast of players.

If you’re a fan of Scion, check out https://ragnarokandroll.podbean.com/, a podcast that tracks all the way from first edition Scion: Hero to Scion: Ragnarok, but is now looking into the second edition of the game!

We’re going through Wraith: The Oblivion character creation over on our YouTube channel here: https://youtu.be/jflNxrN3i6o And part two will be uploaded this week!

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find most of Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we’re offering our monthly Exalted 3rd Edition PDF for Hundred Devils Night Parade!

Conventions!

Save Against Fear: October 12th – 14th GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd PAX Unplugged: December 6th – 8th 2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Redlines

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Development

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Manuscript Approval

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

W20 Art Book (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Post-Approval Development

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

V5 Chicago Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Editing

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Post-Editing Development

Memento Mori (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e Companion)

DR:E Jumpstart (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Ex3 Lunars – Contracted.

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Contracted. Sketches still coming in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties – Contracted.

Deviant (KS) – Contracted. LeBlanc’s art already in.

Trinity RMCs – Contracted.

Cults of the Blood God (KS) – Sending out art notes.

Chicago Folio – Art notes going out this week.

Mummy 2 (KS) – Got Matthew’s notes.

In Layout

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel

Dark Eras 2 – Files with Aileen

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

VtR Spilled Blood – With Josh.

DR:E Jumpstart

Aeon Aexpansion

Proofing

C20 Cup of Dreams

V5: Chicago – Inputting errata.

Geist 2e – XX’s and then Indexing.

Signs of Sorcery – Inputting errata.

M20 Book of the Fallen

DR: E – Inputting errata.

At Press

Dragon Blooded – Deluxe at Studio2, shipping wrapping up.

Dragon-Blooded Cloth Map – At Studio2, shipping wrapping up.

Dragon-Blooded Screen – Shipped to Studio2, shipping wrapping up.

Trinity Core Screen – At Studio2.

TC Aeon Screen – At Studio2.

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs coming.

Trinity Core – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

Trinity Aeon – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

Shunned By the Moon – PoD proof coming.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

On this date in 1346 – Hundred Years’ War: The military supremacy of the English longbow over the French combination of crossbow and armored knights is established at the Battle of Crécy. Thus spawning whole rafts of longbow lovin’ moments in gaming! (Also can be seen as a victory for the common man that will echo through history and turn out even more badly for the French nobility 400-some years later).

[hystericalrogertaylor]

As The World Crumbles (Chapter Five)

Collaboration with @bentaylorrogerhardy

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word count: 2099 

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have been dating since Bohemian Rhapsody’s release. Everything seemed perfect for the young couple, until the night of the Golden Globes. Russia has bombed the United States, destroying everything and implementing a ruthless dictatorship. With the country in tatters, Ben, (Y/n), Rami, Lucy, Joe, and Gwilym form the Killer Queens, a vigilante group aimed on destroying the new government, and the cold-blooded dictator, Cornelius Vanzant.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of kidnapping/guns, one cuss word, heart-wrenching angst and super duper-squishy fluff 

A/N: I think y’all are gonna like this...

Master list

Spotify playlist

(I feel like this gif was edited with a filter or something, so yeah, it’s not ours. Haha)

~~~

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Lucy stood there, in front of the TV, seemingly paralyzed by fear and shock. Then, her knees started to buckle, eventually giving out under her. She fell to the floor and started to scream.

“NO!” she yelled at the blank TV screen. “This can’t be happening! Rami, come back!” She leaned forward, almost putting her head on the floor and sobbing her heart out. “Why?!”

Ben slowly broke away from your side, kneeling down next to an inconsolable Lucy. He pulled her into a hug, whispering “shhhh” to try and calm her down. “Hey, we’ll get him back. Okay? We’ll do all we can. Please don’t cry.”

“He’s going to die!” she shouted, her body shaking with each sob. “They’re going to kill him!”

“We won’t let that happen,” Ben said quietly.

Lucy sniffled loudly, sitting up and looking Ben straight in the eyes. “Can you promise me that? Can you promise he’ll be alive to see his child?” Ben broke eye contact, looking down at his lap. “That’s what I thought.” She stood up, brushing her pants to get rid of the dust. “I know we can’t guarantee his survival, but we can at least try.” She wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, smearing the tears.

“It’s your call,” Gwilym said, standing off to the side. “We’ll do what you want to do.”

“We watch them,” she said. “We watch the news, watch what they schedule. If his execution is public, we can get him that way. If it’s not, we can break into whatever headquarters they’re using and take him that way.”

Gwilym nodded. “Okay. Sounds doable. Let’s get to work as soon as everyone can.”

Frankie, at some point, had come into the room, watching everyone’s somber expressions. Dogs can smell emotions, and Lucy was the most depressed in the whole room. She slowly made her way over to Lucy, jumping up on her leg.

Lucy actually smiled. “Hey girl. Hey Frankie.” She picked the dog up, holding her to her face. “Everything’s fine, girl. We’ll all be fine.”

In response, Frankie started to lick Lucy’s face, making Lucy laugh a little. “That tickles!” She held Frankie away at arm’s length, smiling at her. “Thanks for that, Frankster. I needed it.”

---

After a hard day of planning how to get Rami back, you and Ben went back to your room, not even changing clothes before slipping under the blankets. Ben stared up at the ceiling, not making an effort to hide his pain.

“I just can’t believe we let that happen,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “He was behind us, and when we turned around a random man had a gun on his head.” He took a deep breath. “We tried to shoot him as he got away but it wasn’t any use. We could’ve hit Rami.”

You shook your head. “You’re so stupid,” you said, rolling over to face away from him.

You heard him sit up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How could you possibly think you could take him down?” you asked, trying not to look at him. “They’re a powerful group of people, there’s no way you could’ve saved him.”

“What the hell, (Y/n)?!” he practically shouted.

You slowly sat up, finally looking back over at him, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “It’s just...I hate living every day knowing that any moment, these terrible people could just yank you out of my grasp.” You gulped, trying to suppress a sob. “I know it makes me a terrible person, but I’m so glad they didn’t get you. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” You paused for several seconds, waiting for Ben to say something. When he didn’t, you continued to talk.

“I’ll have nightmares. Almost every night. And a vast majority of them are you dying. I’ll...I’ll wake up and actually have to check the other side of the bed to make sure you’re still there. I’ve also scoured the pharmacy for pregnancy tests, and I’ll sometimes take them after a nightmare where I lose both of you, just to make sure the baby’s still there too.” Ben blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “You two are my everything, I couldn’t handle losing either of you. No way in hell would I be as calm as Lucy is right now.” You had to stop because you were sobbing so hard. “Please, just...don’t leave me. You’re all I have left.”

Ben sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You held onto him for dear life, letting your tears fall onto his shirt. He stroked your hair, placing soft kisses on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’ll protect all three of us with whatever I can. We’ll be okay.”

“But it’s like what Lucy said,” you whimpered. “We can’t guarantee anything. If you go out on a run tomorrow to stalk Vanzant’s men, there’s no way you can say you’ll come home because you just don’t know! Fuck, I wish we’d never gone to the stupid Golden Globes!” You shook your head. “We could’ve been home, in London, watching from afar. We wouldn’t be in this stupid mess!”

“Once this is all over, we’ll head back to London, have our family, and never think about these years again.” Ben held you closer. “You’re the love of my life. Being with you until I die is all I want to do, and I’m willing to do whatever to get there, including killing Vanzant myself.”

You looked up, grabbing Ben’s face with both of your hands and pulling him into a kiss. It was short, but full of love and meaning. You knew he meant every word he just said.

You pulled away, still sniffling. “Let’s...I don’t know...go on a walk tomorrow. Spend the day with each other. Forget our problems.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You want to go outside? You just protested me--”

“No, not in a public place or anything,” you clarified. “You know the garden behind the hospital? We could just hang out there all day. Get some fresh air and sunshine.”

Ben smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, placing several kisses here and there. “That sounds amazing.”

You sighed, running your fingers through his hair slowly. “What are you doing?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he answered, pushing you down onto the mattress.

---

You and Ben woke up bright and early, wanting to get a jump start on your relaxation day. After changing out of your birthday suits and finding Frankie a leash, you said goodbye to everyone else and headed out to the hospital’s garden.

What remained of the lush area was still as beautiful as ever in your eyes. The hospital walls had begun to be severely depressing. The fresh scenery and open air was already doing wonders for you.

“All right Frankie,” Ben said, unhooking her from the leash. “Go have fun!” Frankie ran off, sniffing several plants and always staying close to you two.

You and Ben took a stroll, hand-in-hand, in complete silence, listening to the sounds of nature and the apocalypse. Under the shade of trees and knowing you weren’t seen was quite calming for you. If a plane hadn’t flown over at that moment, you would’ve had more hope for the future to be better.

“We’ve been inside for I don’t even know how long,” you said, beginning to swing the arm holding Ben’s hand. “It’s so nice to get out.”

“It is,” Ben agreed. “I’m already having more fun than when I went out yesterday.”

You shook your head, feeling the sadness creep back in. “No, we’re not talking about that. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Right, sorry.” He pantomimed zipping his lips, making you smile.

You sighed, looking up at Ben. “Do you ever just randomly think about the fact that we’re about to be parents? Like, you almost forget about it and then you remember and get that happy, fuzzy feeling, but at the same time you’re scared because this isn’t where you want to raise a child.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But usually I just get all smiley and giddy because, wow, I’m gonna be a dad. And the mom is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

You blushed, smiling down at your shoes. You ran a hand over your stomach. “I can’t wait to have a bump.”

“Why’s that?” He put his hand on top of yours, causing you both to stop walking.

“Because then it’ll be real.” You smiled at him. “Then I’ll actually feel pregnant.”

Ben frowned, laughing. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel pregnant when you threw up again this morning and then cried about how cute Frankie is.”

You smacked his arm, laughing. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

Ben chuckled, pulling you into his chest. You sighed with contentment while he ran a hand up and down your back. “We should tell the others,” Ben suggested again.

You pulled away, shaking your head. “Ben, you know we still can’t do that.”

“But why not?” He was getting upset again, and you just wanted the conversation to be over.

“It’ll stress them out, and Lucy will be more upset that Rami’s not here for her.” You grabbed his hand again, beginning to slowly stroll again.

“All right,” he ceded, letting you pull him down the path.

After a few more minutes, you came upon a fountain. The water had long since evaporated, leaving an empty, beautiful stone monument. Frankie, who was still right on your heels, ran up to it and began sniffing around, even jumping up inside, before spotting a butterfly flitting about and chasing after it.

“Frankie, please don’t eat the butterfly!” you called after her. You shook your head. “Never really thought I’d have to say that out loud.”

Ben laughed, watching his dog run around and bark. “The butterfly’s too high up, she won’t get it.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain. The sun shone directly on him, making his blond hair glow and his blue eyes sparkle. You sat down next to him, putting your head on his shoulder.

“There’s no place I’d rather be right now,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Me neither.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You grabbed his shoulders as he cupped your face, trying to be as close as possible. You swung your legs over and moved towards him so you were sitting on his lap. He moved a hand to your waist, always being careful to avoid touching your stomach (he was always paranoid he’d accidentally hurt the baby). The moment was getting a little heated, which wasn’t uncommon for you two, until he said something that made you stop.

He dug his fingers into your hair, pausing the kiss for a second. “Marry me,” he whispered.

“Wait.” You put your hands on his chest, pushing him away only slightly. “What did you say?”

This time, he stared directly into your eyes as he said, “I want you to marry me.” When you said nothing, he continued: “I’ve been thinking about it. I know you love me, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. Like I said last night, my one goal is to spend my life with you. I would have no greater joy than if you said yes to marrying me.”

You had a few tears slipping down your cheek. Somewhere deep down, you knew this moment would come; you would even daydream about it sometimes. But nothing could compare to the actual words he spoke.

“Yes,” you rasped, your throat filled with phlegm. You cleared your throat quickly before trying to speak again. “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

His face broke out with the biggest grin you’d ever seen. He chuckled as his own tears began to trail down his face. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

You used your thumbs to wipe away his tears, smiling wide. You pushed your face back into his, continuing the kiss from earlier. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, never wanting to let go.

Until Frankie jumped up next to you both, a large pine cone in her mouth. You both looked down at her, laughing. You smiled, knowing that your planned day had turned out perfectly.

Tag list: @florencewelchmybiggod @xquiet-thoughtsx@virtualsheepeat @pietrorunsforme @stella2445 @dovexparker@amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @harrysniallpolish @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank (I’m terrible at tag lists, so send an ask if I forgot you. Sorry!) 

[anthropologicalhands]

ceg fic: a pattern cutting

title: a pattern cutting summary: new babies mean new routines, but also new beginnings notes: you knew this was going to happen post-finale. my feelings on rebecca/nathaniel having children are all over the place, but there are aspects of them choosing to become parents that I honestly really enjoy, and I think will be fun to explore in at least some future scenarios. blame the baby gator for the investment.

EDIT: Ao3 link here

Lately, Rebecca feels like she has discovered that her brain, far from being the organ that processes sensory information, is susceptible to earworms, and has helped her make sense of the world if not always in the most sensible of ways, in fact has more in common with a bowl of Jell-O. In particular, a hallucinating bowl of Jell-O that has been in a state of high alert ever since the squalling amalgamation of her and Nathaniel’s chromosomes was expelled from her birth canal to make her dramatic debut in the world.

She isn’t sure if that realization is a sign of enlightenment or merely a consequence of sleep-deprivation. Still, Rebecca thinks things are going all right. Two months in, Evie is only waking up a few times a night, and her and Nathaniel have settled into something almost like a routine—when she is roused for the third time that night by their daughter’s whimpers, she is already sitting up, when Nathaniel’s hand brushes her shoulder, with a weary but firm ‘I got it’. It’s not his turn, but Rebecca isn’t exactly going to object for a little more time in bed and collapses gratefully back into the pillows, willing herself to slumber.

However, even with her eyes shut she still lies awake, waiting for him to come back to bed. Evie (full name Evelyn and on hold until she is big enough for it) quiets eventually, but he still doesn’t return. Rebecca sits up and peers out into the dark of their apartment, eyes still scrunched half-closed for better focus. The lamp by the crib has been switched on in the far corner of the room, casting a soft yellow glow, and outlines where Nathaniel is stretched out on the couch. His posture is disarmingly casual—one leg drawn up, resting his head on the armrest, and the baby curled up on his chest. She’s grown exponentially since they first brought her home, but Rebecca can only marvel at how Evie still looks so tiny, cradled protectively under Nathaniel’s hands.

Idly, she thinks about how if someone had asked her when she first met him what kind of a father Nathaniel Plimpton III would be, it would not have been a kind answer.

(Granted, if they had asked her what kind of mother she would have been, it would not have been much of an improvement.)

Forgoing the appealing lure of sleep, Rebecca shuffles out of bed, past the stroller, picking her path through the toys and beyond the crib and adjacent changing table on her way over to rejoin the rest of their family unit.

Nathaniel’s focus on the baby doesn’t waver, but he shifts minutely as she approaches, automatically attuning himself to her presence.

“Isn’t the point of a night routine that we can get eight hours of sleep collectively, given that we can’t get it individually?” He murmurs, still not looking up even when she comes to stand in front of him.

“Hm, yes, but we were trying for a fifty-fifty ratio and you’re voluntarily shortchanging yourself. Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” says Nathaniel with a slight smile, flicking his eyes up to meet hers. He shifts a little further, adjusting his position. “I usually wait a few minutes before putting her back in the crib, otherwise she wakes up and the whole cycle just repeats itself. We might want to consider changing her blanket—I’m not convinced she likes it very much.”

Maybe it’s the hour, but Rebecca can’t help but giggle at his earnestness.

“Or, maybe, she just wants to spend time with her daddy a little longer,” she says softly.

Nathaniel ducks his head and were it not for the darkness of the room she would bet that she could see the flush across the back of his neck, running up the tips of his ears.

“I don’t think she even knows who I am yet,” he protests, embarrassed. She gets it—it still feels new, labelling themselves in this way. She still twitches when Paula teasingly calls her mama or mommy when addressing Evie. Somehow, those titles sound both too silly and too responsible at the same time, and still don’t quite fit. But the titles are also unmistakably theirs, now.

“Well, I don’t know what she thinks of me beyond being a mobile milk factory either, so we’re pretty much on the same page there.” Nathaniel raises her eyebrows at her in disbelief; she holds up her hands in mock defense. “Hey, it’s not a slight against Evie—why should she think that other beings exist outside of her? That’s asking a lot of someone whose brain is still developing.”

Nathaniel doesn’t laugh, but he does press his lips tightly together and avert his eyes in a way that makes her suspect it’s taking some effort to avoid disturbing the baby.

Their baby.

A year of planning and discussion, nine months of growing a person, eight hours of intense pain to push her out, not to mention the weeks of postpartum lochia—somehow, she still sometimes can’t entirely believe that this is their new reality.

She watches as Nathaniel absently strokes Evie’s back; his expression clouded. Sleep deprivation aside, it isn’t a familiar look.

“Nathaniel? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hm? It’s nothing too important.” He looks down at Evie, his tone soft and even. “I was just thinking about a few things. Remember how everyone said we would understand our parents once we had kids of our own?”

“See, I only remember a bunch of strangers being weirdly personal and in my face about my choices,” says Rebecca. “I mean, sure, they meant well, but also they were completely talking out of their as—esophagus,” she hastily self-corrects, even before Nathaniel shoots her a warning look to watch her language around the baby and her highly-sensitive ears. “I said esophagus.”

“Hm, nice save.”

“I still say we’re only delaying the inevitable. We might as well get her used to my extensive vocabulary so she doesn’t waste time being scandalized later. Plus, she’ll learn so much about creative language use! Imagine the day she’s on the schoolyard and knows exactly the right words to send all the mean kids crying to the teacher. Tell me you wouldn’t love to get that phone call.”

Nathaniel lets out a disbelieving snort but concedes the point with a careless flick of his free hand. He tips his chin down to check on Evie, still sleeping peacefully despite the whispered conversation. Rebecca can see him turning over whatever point he has to make in his head, and slips down to join them on the couch, angling herself so that she can curl in to his side, absently bringing her hand up to trace Evie’s clenched fist, cooing when she shifts and reaches out to wrap Rebecca’s finger in a weak grip. Nathaniel’s free hand comes to rest on Rebecca’s shoulder—when she looks up at him his eyes are soft.

For a few moments, they let themselves stay like that, the only sound a faint rustling from the trees lining the boulevard outside the apartment as the rest of the world sleeps. Then Nathaniel exhales, and draws his hand away from her shoulder to card his fingers through his hair.

“I was just thinking that I still don’t understand my father,” he says at last, his voice quiet. “I thought I would have a better idea, after we had her. That he didn’t know how to react to the idea of having a kid, and maybe he just freaked out and funneled all of those feelings into some impossible ideal of excellence. I thought that maybe…he just didn’t know the best way to show how he felt, or something. Still a bad father but, you know, in a way that actually made sense.”

“And he doesn’t?”

Nathaniel gives a short, tight shake of his head. “Not in the least. He would never have bothered with any of this.” He gestures out at their apartment, every surface covered in toys and books and babyproofed down to the square inch. “What he did was allocate a room, passed me off to someone else and waited until I old enough to be trained for the family legacy to be worth his time.”

There is no anger in his words, only a weariness that Rebecca recognizes as something separate from their late nights.

“Sounds like something you kinda already knew,” she observes.

“Maybe.” Nathaniel looks back down at Evie. “It just didn’t used to be so obvious. What’s the point of having a kid if you don’t care from the start?”

“I don’t know,” says Rebecca honestly, thinking of Silas and then firmly brushing the thought away—it has been a long time since she’s allowed him any real estate in her mind, and she is not about to start again.

“If he felt like that, he never should have had me.”

He doesn’t sound especially self-pitying, but Rebecca feels her skin prickle uncomfortably at the thought of a world where Nathaniel never came into her life. There have been many times where she’s wished that their path together had been smoother, that they had done things differently and hurt fewer people, but it’s been years since she could imagine a life without him, and she doesn’t want to start now.

She clears her throat.

“I mean, I’m going to have to disagree with that sentiment, just on sheer principle. You should too, since this little poop machine—don’t look so scandalized, I say it with love—relies on your specific genetic mixture coming in contact with mine to exist as she currently does. Not to mention that I’d miss you. Like, not personally, because you would have never existed so I wouldn’t know what I was missing, and maybe not cosmically because there is no such thing as destiny. But I would, somehow.” A pause. “I’m sorry, that metaphor went absolutely nowhere.”

He laughs softly.

“I think I get what you’re saying. Thank you,” he adds, somehow both wry and sincere and sending warm tingles through her, even despite the exhaustion and the late hour.

Rebecca bats her eyelashes in response, provoking another reluctant smile, and props her elbow against the back of the couch, resting her chin in her hand as she watches him. She likes the way Nathaniel holds Evie, she thinks idly. Always has, even those first few times when he was nearly bent double in the chair they’d pulled up by her hospital bed, cradling Evie in the crook of his arm, his hold awkward but careful.

“If it’s any consolation,” she says eventually, “Understanding doesn’t make things that much easier. I’m still confused about how I feel about my mom these days. She used to always tell me to put myself in her shoes, and now I am, like, literally wearing the same brand, and I still don’t understand her methods.”

“But you know where she’s coming from?”

“Eh, ish. I do think I recognize what she was trying to do a little better,” Rebecca admits. “Again, I agree with basically none of her methods. I just…might have a better idea about what emotional place she was coming from. I get the desire to protect someone with everything you have.”

Nathaniel nods his agreement, absently bringing up his fingers to brush Evie’s cheek, whisper-light. “At least there’s that.”

“I guess.”

“Do you think it will help when she comes out to visit next month?”

“Oh, no. I definitely wouldn’t say that,” Rebecca grumbles, rubbing hard at her eyes. “We’ve been doing okay with boundaries, but I honestly have no idea what to expect this time. She might evoke some grandmother clause or something as an excuse to say whatever the hell she wants. She used to do the exact same thing to my dolls.”

“What?”

“Yeah—she would say I was cossetting them too much and that they would die of exposure otherwise. Who knows what she’s going to say about our parenting. She’ll say that she has a ‘just a couple of points’ and then bring out the whole machete. Like, at least your dad knows he was a sucky father and keeps his mouth shut.”

He snorts, hitching Evie up a little higher up on his chest. “My dad? Keep his mouth shut? What alternate universe have you been visiting?”

“Well, okay, you’re right, he’s still kind of bitchy—yes, language, sorry, don’t give me that look—but your mom is always lovely, so I can just tune him out.”

“I see,” says Nathaniel, smirking a little, clearly pleased at the image. “That’s good to know.”

“And I know I don’t have to take it from her, but I need to like, talk to Dr Akopian for a refresher in case she gets nasty and I need to reinforce boundaries. And it makes me so mad that I need to do that, because, as parents, you and I are definitely raising the bar compared to their methods.”

“I mean, they just left the bar on the ground.”

“Exactly. And you know, Paula told me the other day that she thought we were doing just fine—and okay, you know what, maybe that’s not quite the ringing endorsement I was gunning for,” Rebecca backtracks when Nathaniel’s eyebrows shoot high up on his forehead in disbelief. “You are absolutely correct. I should have led with Darryl—Darryl also said we’re doing really well, in the same conversation. And April agreed! I think that totally counts in our favor.”

Nathaniel looks down at Evie, as if to check that she has not stirred, but not so quickly that Rebecca doesn’t catch his pleased smile.

“I think so,” he says softly. His gaze comes up to meet hers, and she’s gratified to see the cloud in his expression has cleared. “Anything else on your mind?”

“Nothing urgent. But I think we do need a bigger space—I think we were overly optimistic about how much square footage a baby needs. Can you imagine how cramped this place is going to feel once she starts crawling?”

“No, but I still can’t picture her sleeping through the night right now, either,” says Nathaniel. “Besides, if we had a spare room, we’d be obligated to offer it to your mother.”

“Good point. On the other hand, having a spare room means we would have a designated place for sex again.”

Nathaniel blanches.

“Rebecca!” he hisses under his breath, retracting his hand from her hair and cupping it protectively around Evie’s exposed ear.

“What?” Rebecca asks innocently, biting her lip to keep from grinning. “She doesn’t understand words yet. And it wasn’t an invitation, dude. More like a notion, if you will. A notion we should consider, because practically speaking, at some point we are going to want to…” she trails off, fumbling for an appropriate euphemism.

“Play Boggle?” Nathaniel suggests helpfully.

Rebecca rolls her eyes at him, fond. “I see what you did there. But yeah, we’re going to want to play Boggle regularly again, and it’ll be nice to have a separate room to set things up; I don’t want to have to send her away each time we plan a game night. And while the shower technically counts, given that we are not as young as we used to be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.

“Oh, come on, we’re not that old,” Nathaniel objects, leaning forward, then freezes at a tiny squeak from the bundle on his chest—Rebecca would laugh at how his eyes pop in alarm if she wasn’t certain that hers were doing the exact same thing. They both hold their breath, watching, but she only whimpers a little and rubs at her face before falling silent again.

“Close one,” whispers Rebecca.

“That was on you,” he mutters. “All I’m just saying is that it shouldn’t be considered entirely off the table—”

“Oh, don’t get me started on the table. Not with the way your back is going.”

Nathaniel brings his hand up to cover his mouth but isn’t quite able to contain his snort of laughter completely. Rebecca grins, unrepentant, and he rolls his eyes at her.

“Fine, let’s look into getting a new place after your mom’s visit,” he says, letting his hand return to his side. “But I maintain that Evie doesn’t need to know anything about that aspect of our marriage, okay?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “I mean, point taken, I learned way too much about my mom’s love life way too early, but still—at the end of the day, intercourse is just a part of most people’s lives, dude. I don’t want her to grow up thinking it’s shameful or gross.”  

“I know.”

“And besides, if we freak her out too much and she does need a therapist, we can always help her find a good one.”

Nathaniel nods. “Right.”

“And she won’t be afraid to ask us, because she’ll know it’s not shameful to need help.”

“Of course,” agrees Nathaniel, his forehead starting to crease.

“Because she’ll know she can rely on us if she ever needs help,” Rebecca continues fiercely, warming on her theme. “Because we’ll tell her that we love her no matter what, and that we’ll always be there for her no matter what. She won’t ever feel like we won’t be. She won’t ever know what that’s like.”

She stops abruptly, not because she doesn’t have more to say but because her heart has tightened her throat. She can’t quite look at Nathaniel, squeezing her eyes tightly closed to contain the surge of protectiveness that threatens to burst out of her.

“Of course,” he says, so quietly she almost can’t hear him over the throbbing of blood in her ears. “She’ll always have us.”

She feels his hand come up to cup her face, then slide down to the nape of her neck. but his thumb brushing over the muscles in firm circles, soothing the tension there, the gentle physicality of the motion grounding her in their present.

“We’ll help her get whatever she needs,” he echoes, his voice thick, but firm in his conviction.

Rebecca nods rapidly, not trusting herself to speak. She brings her hands to her eyes and takes a slow breath, expelling a shaky laugh.

“Wow, I’m sorry, I’m more tired than I thought for all of that to come, just, like, rushing out. It must be the baby brain,” she says. “Heather warned me that it could happen. Remember?”

“I remember,” says Nathaniel. Then, even more gently, “I only have a noon meeting tomorrow. Want me to pick you up from therapy? We can go to Il Cabino after; have some dinner, show off Evie and make everyone else jealous.”

She gives a tiny nod. “That would be nice.”

“It’s a date, then,” says Nathaniel, and Rebecca giggles again. She looks at the man with whom she has created this space, where they have created something that is entirely their own, where they can be vulnerable and fall to pieces and rebuild into something stronger and remembers all of the steps that led them there. It’s always been give and take between them. That was how they started, that was how they would keep going. They could do this.

“And it sounds wonderful. Thank you.” She leans over and kisses him, still mindful not to disturb the baby. “Now scoot over. I wanna put my head on your other shoulder.”

“Wouldn’t it be better just to go back to bed if you’re tired?” he asks, even as he shuffles over so that Rebecca can press even more tightly into his side, humming in contentment as his free hand curls gently into her hair.

“I’ll go when you go. It’s technically still my turn,” she murmurs. “And I don’t wanna miss anything.”

[seeaddywrite]

stars, hide your fire: chapter two

i absolutely will not be able to keep up with daily updates, but i’ve got the first 10k of this written & i’m just editing for continuity & nonsense sentences right now. this was almost a 5k chapter, but i thought that was a bit much, so there will probably be another part up tomorrow. 

also, to address one of the questions i got: yes, this is on AO3, if you prefer to read in that format.  

Chapter Index: 1 || 2

Anxiety is one of the remnants of active duty that Alex can’t shake. His fingers tap a frantic rhythm on his good knee as he watches the group he’s assembled parse through the surveillance footage and the schematics for the weapons, and he catches himself beginning to list all the ways Guerin and the others could blame him for this. He should have found it sooner. He should have pushed harder for information, when Jesse Manes was at his mercy. He should have known his brothers wouldn’t give up this easily just because their father and de facto leader disappeared. Alex should have thought more like a Manes, and less like better man he was trying to become.

He knows that the likelihood of anyone blaming him for those things is next to nothing, logically, but the worry is still there, half-stifled in the back of his mind. It’s especially loud as Guerin snatches the schematics and begins muttering to himself, and even consulting Liz on something that looks like an equation on the lower corner of the scans. Alex keeps his eyes on those two -- it’s easier than looking at Isobel’s ashen, waif-like countenance or the barely-contained fury on Max’s face. The lights keep flickering on and off, and Alex knows that he’s struggling to contain his powers. Alex thinks that’s understandable, but he might be the only one, judging by the sharp looks the others keep sending him.

“Evans, do you mind?” Valenti is finally the one to snap. “We’re all worried! But no one can read without lights, and if we’re still under surveillance, the fireworks show inside might seem a little freaking suspicious!”

Max’s lips tighten, but the lights steady and hold.

Alex lets them have another twenty minutes of trying to search for a way out of the mess in front of them before he clears his throat. Six pairs of eyes bearing various signs of horror and resignation look up at him, and Alex’s heart beats a little faster before he finds the calm, calculating place in the back of his mind that allowed him to survive ten years as an active duty codebreaker while men died all around him.

“Before you all start making plans,” he says calmly, projecting his voice just enough so that everyone in the room can hear him. “Just listen for a minute, okay?” There are a few nods, and after a moment, Alex continues, knowing that in their confusion and fear, they will respond to a voice laden with authority -- just like soldiers in the middle of an op gone tits-up. “Project Shepherd is my father’s pride and joy. It’s a family legacy, and has been for generations. There’s no way he’s given the keys to the kingdom away to random strangers.” Alex glances at Kyle, who nods once, encouraging. “This has to be my brothers. Kyle, Guerin, and I ran into Flint when we went to Caulfield --” The aliens all flinch in tandem at the words. Alex wants to reach out for Michael, seated to his left, to offer some measure of comfort at the bleak reminder, but he doesn’t have that right anymore, even if they are friends. And Michael is already stowing his grief behind a fierce mask, anyway, and wouldn’t appreciate the attempt if it was made. “And I’m pretty confident in guessing that Charlie and Hunter are involved, too.”

There’s a low mutter of discontent from Liz, whose dark eyes are blazing with badly-contained anger. Alex knows how she feels. Max runs a hand down her arm as he watches Alex, waiting for the rest of whatever he has to say, and Rosa leans in closer, looking more confused than anything. There’s still so much about the time before her resurrection that she doesn’t know, despite their best efforts to bring her up to speed.

“I know those guys,” Alex plods forward, refusing to be distracted. “I know how they work, and they’re not going to stop coming for us unless we stop them. And I think the only way we’re going to do that is by getting someone on the inside. Someone who knows how they work -- someone with the training and the skills to make them think that he can help.”

Guerin’s body goes rigid next to Alex, and Liz surges to her feet, but none of it stops Alex from saying: “I’m going to do it. I can get the information we need to bring in the government, or higher-ups in the military, and keep your names out of it. If I’m the one undercover, I control the narrative -- it’s the perfect set-up to make sure they all end up in a military prison, at the very least..”

Chaos erupts in the room around him, and Alex sits back, arms crossed over his chest, and waits.

There’s something grounding about being surrounded by people who all care about each other despite having plenty of reasons not to. Alex has never had a normal family, full of love and bickering and over-protective siblings, but he imagines this is what it would have been like, if he had. Fighting because they don’t want their siblings and loved ones to be hurt, rather than because they do.

Alex has never had that, not really -- his oldest brother, Charlie, had defended him a few times, but in the end, Jesse Manes’ opinion was the only one that ever mattered in their house, and according to him, Alex deserved to hurt. Eventually, Alex had gotten used to the isolation and abuse within his home, and he’d learned at a young age that sharing blood did not mean sharing love. He’d hidden his softest parts behind a sharp tongue and a rough exterior, complete with piercings and a ‘fuck off’ expression that kept even the most determined teachers and their questions at bay. Liz, Maria, and Rosa were the only ones who’d never been fooled, but looking back, Alex can admit that he kept even them at arm’s length. It was necessary, at the time; none of those women were the sort of people who would do nothing if they found out exactly how bad things were for Alex at home, and the last thing he’d wanted was for them to get hurt because of him.

Needless to say, from that perspective, it’s utterly bizarre to be sitting there,  listening to Michael’s little, makeshift family fight him on the course of action he’s chosen to take his father down for good. They’re all trying to protect him -- even Max, who’s only been breathing again for two weeks and has barely spoken two words to Alex in all of that time. But even still, he’s volunteered himself for the mission instead, on the grounds that he can defend himself with his powers if necessary, and the fact that it’s not fair to ask Alex to move against his own blood.

It’s insane, of course. Max is a cop, but he’s never been a great one; he’s too straight-and-narrow, aside from the lengths he’s willing to go to in order to protect the people he loves. This is the sort of op that requires planning on the fly and subterfuge, and a flexibility that Max just doesn’t have. Not to mention the fact that there’s no way Max will ever learn enough about computers and hacking in time to be any of use to Project Shepherd, and he doesn’t have the family ties that would get the Manes boys to even consider trusting him, even if they haven’t, by some miracle, seen anything suspicious about him on their surveillance footage.

Despite all of that, Alex can’t help but feel a little warmer at the obvious concern, even if he has no idea how to take it. His feelings about Max Evans and his god complex are complicated even on a good day, and Alex isn’t used to this sort of protective behavior. He knows it’s coming from a good place, though -- the one real conversation he and Max have had was about Michael, and the fact that if Guerin sees Alex as family, Max does too, no matter what their relationship status might be.

So,  yes. Alex would be lying if he said that it isn’t oddly nice to have people worrying about him, but eventually, enough is enough.

He’d gone silent as soon as the fighting started; Kyle had warned him that no one was going to like the idea of Alex going undercover with Project Shepherd, and Alex had predicted Michael’s immediate and absolute denial -- but this is his decision. His family, his legacy -- his responsibility. If he’s ever going to feel like it’s safe to be with Michael again, if he’s ever going to feel free of his father and his damned battles, Alex has to do this. There’s no other way out from beneath his shadow, and Alex has spent enough of his life missing the sun.

Alex has to do this, and no one is going to stop him -- no matter how good their intentions.

“It’s gotta be me,” Alex says loudly, adopting a tone of command that he’d learned in the middle of the desert in wartime. It effectively silences the squabbles filling the room, and again, six pairs of eyes turn to him, some incredulous, others resigned -- and one pair of beloved brown orbs full of vehement denial. But Alex sits tall on the couch, meeting each gaze in turn with steely determination, hoping that he looks more confident in his own abilities than he feels. His brothers aren’t stupid, and there’s a good chance they’ll see through his ruse, but he has the best chance of fooling them -- and Alex isn’t willing to risk anyone else.  “Come on, guys, you know it has to be me. No one else knows Charlie and Flint like I do, and no one else has the training to be useful to their project.”

Alex doesn’t know how he ended up as a member of this eclectic little family, but it’s happened, and he’d do a thousand horrible things before he let anything happen to any of them. Lying to the family he’d grown up with seems like a small price to pay in order to keep them safe. Michael has always deserved happiness and safety, and while Max and Isobel have their issues, they aren’t anything like the villainous aliens Jesse Manes laments about. And Liz, Rosa, and Kyle -- they deserve better than lives on the run, too, which is what awaits them if Project Shepherd ever finds out about their ties to the aliens.

Alex allows himself a moment to reflect on the way they’d all come together, in the wake of Max’s death, as a way to remind himself of why he’s doing this. It had happened in fits and starts, with plenty of stalling. At the beginning, he’d stayed strictly to the periphery. Most of that had been his own choice; in the wake of Michael’s decision to pursue a relationship with Maria, it had been easier to just keep his distance and try to keep moving forward with his own healing.

It only took a month for Michael’s relationship with Maria to end, though, and Alex found himself as a Max fill-in, bailing the other man out of the drunk tank and hiding the acetone when it looked like Michael might drown in it. It’s not an auspicious start to a friendship, especially considering their history, but after several awkward interludes and false starts, they manage to find even ground. Alex doesn’t think they’ll ever quite manage a completely platonic friendship, but they’ve found something that works for them -- something that someday, they hope can become something more.

Michael isn’t the only one who gets tangled up in Alex’s life in those rough months. After a few weeks of private grief, Liz showed up, wanting access to the Caulfield files to look for intel that could help bring Max back from the dead. She’d mentioned in passing that they needed help making sure that no one would question the cover story for Rosa’s miraculous return, so Alex had been the one to put enough of a digital footprint online so that anyone but an experienced hacker would have to believe she’d been kidnapped, not murdered, ten years past.

And then, somehow, the Ortecho sisters became regular fixtures in his cabin. It seemed like one of them was always there, cooking burned meals in his scarcely-used kitchen or dragging in a television set from Arturo’s basement when they noticed Alex didn’t have one. It hadn’t taken much for Alex to remember how much he’d adored Rosa as a teenager, or why Liz had been one of his closest friends for well over a decade before they drifted apart -- and he couldn’t deny that he’d been grateful to feel less isolated from the town.

From there, it all spiraled into weekly dinners and brainstorming sessions,  to sharing his space and his time with these people as they fought back against what seemed like the inevitable. They’d won against it before, and Alex is absolutely certain that they can again. But they need to all be on the same page, first.

“Max can defend himself if he has to,” Michael points out before Alex says anything more, shoving himself forward on the couch to bring his body within touching distance of Alex. It’s the closest they’ve been in months, and Alex hates the way his heartbeat speeds up just from the  proximity. “No one in your family knows that he’s an alien, plus he’s a deputy. Your dad wanted Cam’s input from the Sheriff’s office -- I bet your brothers will want what he can tell them, too. It’s a way in.”

Alex tries to decide whether Michael has so much faith in Max that he believes he can pull off an op like this, or if he’s just so sure that Alex can’t that he’s scrambling for any better option. Neither speak positively about Michael’s headspace, and Alex isn’t sure he wants to know the real answer. Michael’s been incredibly protective of his brother since his resurrection, though -- it seems strange that he’s willing to go along with Max’s self-sacrificing offer.

“Are you forgetting we just brought Max from the dead?” Isobel interjects shrilly, before Alex gets the chance to figure out what the hell Michael is thinking. She directs her icy gaze at Michael, and then at Alex, as if he hadn’t just told the entire room that he’s got to be the one to join Project Shepherd. Isobel’s been the quietest since they all arrived, and is pressed into Max’s side in a way that even Liz isn’t, though she’s still sitting close. Alex knows Isobel’s still trying to pull herself together from the realization that her husband was a mass-murdering psychopath for the duration of their marriage, and understands that she has the right to heal in her own way, but he’s getting tired of being the subject of her ire. “Like hell are we sending him straight to a bunch of people who want to cut him open and play mad scientist with his guts!”

“Give me a break, Isobel!” Michael snaps back at his sister. “I’m not trying to get him killed! But he’s got a better chance of defending himself than Alex, if shit gets ugly. I’d go if I could, but I’m on a fucking watchlist -- there’s no way they’ll buy it.”

He sends a look at Max that Alex can’t really see, but the taller man nods once, and rests a hand on Isobel’s shoulder. “Michael’s being smart, Iz,” he says quietly. “We can’t send Alex into Project Shepherd to --”

“I don’t think we should be sending anyone!” Isobel interrupts, and crosses bare arms over her chest. Fire dances in her eyes as she stares around the room at the assemblage, and for once, Alex is reminded of the intimidating teenaged girl from high school who’d had every straight guy at Roswell High panting after her. Lately she’s seemed more like a shadow than that person, and Alex can admit that he’s glad to see her regaining some of herself -- even if it’s the more difficult parts. “This is all stupid. Starting up some kind of super-spy mission is asking for them  to figure out our secret if they don’t already know. No one’s made a move on us, yet. There’s still time for us to get out of town; we don’t need to risk anyone for the sake of information. It’s not worth it!”

Isobel has suffered so much loss already that Alex can understand her point of view. There’s a risk to this op, and not just to Alex -- if he fails, there’s a high probability the entire truth will come out. It’s not a big leap from Alex being a traitor to the rest of them being involved, and from there, it’s a pretty easy supposition that Jesse Manes might have been right about who in Roswell might be from another planet. She’s thinking ahead and weighing the consequences against the possible reward -- and to her, it’s not coming out even.

“Do you really want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, Isobel?” Alex asks softly, ignoring the way that Guerin is practically thrumming with anger in the seat next to him. He’ll deal with him soon -- but first, he needs to get everyone else settled down. Kyle is already in the corner, talking to Liz and Rosa in a low, soothing whisper. It strikes Alex then how lucky he is to have Valenti on his side, especially considering he doesn’t like the plan anymore than they do. He’s trusting Alex to make the right calls, and that means a hell of a lot.

“I know my family. They’re not going to stop coming. Eventually, even if they can’t get video or photos, they’ll come to town and ask the right questions to the right people. They’ll hear about Rosa Ortecho’s magical reappearance after ten years. They’ll hear about Michael’s hand, or the bizarre power outage, or the lawyer who just up and disappeared. Or maybe they’ll stop by the diner, or the hospital and find dad in that coma, and he’ll just give them all the answers when he wakes up.” That particular scenario is terrifying, and Alex pushes forward, refusing to dwell, or feel guilty for telling the bald-faced truth, despite the growing disquiet on his friends’ faces. “There are thousand ways for them to find out the truth, and to hurt you. Running isn’t going to make a difference. They’ll find you, eventually. It’s a delaying tactic, not a solution.”

Alex exhales slowly, gives everyone a moment to process his logic, and finishes: “So I’m going to take them down from the inside, and I’d really like you all to help me -- from a safe distance. If you don’t want to, I understand, but I am doing this. With or without your blessing.”

[nana-writes]

Fire Resistance

read it on AO3

by nana_writes

Aeleine, a half-elf torturer with ceaseless curiosity, gets her hands on a tiefling subject for the first time ever.

(disclaimer: aeleine is my character, dnd belongs to Wizards of the Coast; this is a low-magic universe)

Words: 1794, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Aeleine (og female character)

Additional Tags: Whump, Torture, torturer pov, dnd, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Interrogation, Branding, Tieflings, tied-up

TW: references to previous torture; references to further torture with fire/branding; injuries described first time publishing any whump so be nice to me!

Aeleine caught the bag of gold the Lord threw her way, weighing it. It felt about right, though she would make sure to count it later.

"Thank you, Aeleine. Reliable as always. You may leave now. Guards, get rid of him."

"My Lord if I may," the man nodded for her to continue "if you are done with him" she inclined her head towards the prisoner within the jail, tone of voice very much implying she knew he was going to kill him "I'd love a couple more hours with him."

"Why?"

"First time I've gotten to experience with a tiefling, that's all."

The Lord seemed to ponder his decision for a minute. "I don't see what else the scoundrel could really give you, but any interesting juicy bits pass them on. Otherwise, he's all yours. Jeremiah," he called, turning to one of his guards "Make sure Aeleine has everything she needs and dispose of the body after the fact."

The guard in question looked down at Aeleine, who flashed him a sharp grin. He squirmed in place. Good , she thought.

"Keys." She asked, hand out. Jeremiah looked at his partner, who clearly seemed to think the guard's fear of Aeleine was absolutely unfounded. The second guard rolled his eyes and brushed past Aeleine to open the door himself. She let that go, though part of her brain was considering how to make him afraid of her - she much preferred Jeremiah's reaction.

"Get me some fire in here please, a torch or two."

"I thought you pointy-ears could see fine in the dark" the second guard, Marcus she thought, sneered.

"Who said it was to see." She answered, deadpan. Then, she turned to the guard and called forth the dragon's aura that lived in her heart "and watch your tongue or you might end up on that chair next." The magic didn't seem to take hold, which was annoying, but her words and threat where enough that some of the colour seemed to drain out of his face. It was alright, he would have to stay and watch. She would see how he felt about her then. With an angelic smile, she turned back towards the cell.

"Those lights please!" She called out once more, before bringing a chair to rest in front of the prisoner. She gingerly lifted the rough sack that had been put over his head when she'd been done with him.

He blinked twice, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. They quickly zero'ed on Aeleine, now straddling a chair across from him.

"Why are you back. You got what you wanted." He spat.

"No, he got what he wanted." Aeleine clarified. She made an effort to keep her voice kind as she asked: "How are you doing?"

She lifted a hand to tilt his chin, looking at the bruise that was blooming there. Not her doing, brute force was way too crude a method in her opinion. "Tsk, they shouldn't have done that to you."

The tiefling looked utterly confused "You're fucking weird, you know that."

Aeleine didn't answer, reaching for the rag and bucket of water someone had left on the side of the room. She wet the rag and brought it up to the tiefling's face, cleaning the blood left there, probably from when he'd been caught. She hadn't done that either. His hands though...

He was a thief, she was surprised they hadn't just handed him to her with his knuckles already broken off one by one.

"What are you doing?" He asked, in confusion.

"Iago yes?" the tiefling nodded. That was something she already knew anyways, she already knew way more than that, stuff he should not have said, stuff that was going to get his crew caught or killed. He wasn't going to survive this either, he had to know. She hated it when they knew that, made her job so much harder.

The tiefling grew somber again.

"What are you doing?" He repeated, more forceful, this time actually attempting to move away from her ministrations.

"I'm just making sure you're alright."

"Why? You put most of these wounds there yourself."

She moved on to his chest now "I know. Hazards of the job. Agrammon wanted a lot from you." She felt him tense further at the mention of the Lord, of the torture he'd endured and the information he'd spilled. "I just want to make sure you're not dying on me just yet."

Iago still looked confused "I know they are going to kill me so what, I'm to be made an example of in the stocks tomorrow?"

"No." Aeleine answered. "At least, I don't think so. Agrammon doesn't need it known he was stolen from."

"So what."

"You still have so much left to tell me."

He struggled against his bonds, the chains around his wrists and ankles rattling against the wooden chair. "No, no, I told you everything I know."

And oh, that was panic in his voice.

She waited for him to calm down once more, before continuing with the rag down his neck and chest. The blood - his, of course - had cacked and dried in places already, so she had to rub a couple of times before she was able to get most of it off. He'd been handed to her shirtless but with his pants on, and so she had ended up straying away from his legs & tail. She moved on to his hands next.

He would probably never regain full control of his digits, even if they healed up properly. Only healing magic would probably do him any good, and Aeleine had yet to meet someone who could do that. She picked up his hand gingerly, Iago watching her with apprehension, expression already showing the pain he must have been ignoring, as she carefully cleaned them up of blood and dirt.

"There." she announced once she was done with both hands, putting the rag and bucket away. The water was now murky with his sweat and blood, not that it had been that clean to start with. If he were to live past tomorrow, his wounds were probably going to infect. Good thing that wasn't going to be an issue then.

Aeleine walked back to her chair and prisoner. She traced a line down his torso, fingers ghosting over the handful of blade marks left there hours ago. A particularly deep one, high on his chest, was still open, though most had started to close already. She skimmed the edges of it, then once more over it, pressing down slightly. Iago hissed.

"I can't do anything about that see, I don't have any healing magic..."

The tiefling tensed for a split second, so quick Aeleine might have missed it if she hadn't been looking for it.

"Magic doesn't exist" he lied, voice mocking. It was a good lie too, but Aeleine was paying close enough attention to hear the slight hitch in his breath as he tried to keep his voice even, his derision true.

"Yeah, it does. And you know it, tieflings are magical after all."

A snort of disbelief "Next you're going to tell me the dust from my bones cures the Weep, and that red tiefling horns can be used to conduct powerful love potions."

"No, of course not. Those are silly superstitions. And anyways, I suspect if any of those old wives rumours were true, they would be linked to whose infernal heritage you share, not your skin colouring."

"You're crazy. Magic doesn't exist."

"Maybe I'm crazy" Aeleine pondered, before placing her hand just above his wrist. She willed the electricity to curse through her, watched the sparks run down her arm and into the tiefling. He screamed, and she pondered, slightly too late, that she should have given him something to bite on - she still needed his tongue to stay intact. "Maybe nothing happened right now."

"What can you do?" Aeleine repeated, and she could hear more than feel the warmth leave her voice, the impatience creep in.

He was breathing heavy and she didn't fully hear what he murmured in infernal, nor would she have been able to understand it, but she got the gist of it. He lifted his head up from where it had lulled onto his chest and yup, that was hate in his eyes staring back at her, beads of sweat forming once more at his hairline. He wouldn't be telling her anything more, her own observations would have to suffice today.

"Oh well, don't tell me then. Maybe you'll show me later." she reached for the dagger on her waistband and ignored the rattling of the chains as she brought it up to his thigh. She placed a hand on his knee for support and warned "Stay still or this will go deeper than intended and hurt a whole lot more" before cutting through his trousers. She sliced around both his legs, leaving barely anything of the cloth left, only just enough to cover his private bits. Both his thighs had managed to remain unscathed during the whole sequence of events, making them the perfect expanse of skin for her to test her theories on.

While she'd been cleaning him up someone had come and placed a torch inside, on one of the wall loops made just for that. She stepped out of the cell and turned to one of the guards. "Jeremiah, give me one of those crossbow bolts please."

"Why?" Marcus asked, as his partner complied without question. Seeing her chance, she took it, turning to him with a smile as she was handed the bolt by Jeremiah.

"If you want to know, you're welcome to come in and watch. If you think you can handle it."

Aeleine heard him grumble behind her about how she thought she was all that when she was nothing more than any other sellsword, but she ignored him as she wandered back to the cell. Approaching the torch, she lifted the arrow to the flame, watching it's metal tip grow warm.

"See," she explained, to both the tiefling and the guard who had now come to stand inside "Everyone knows tieflings are resistant to fire. It's their infernal blood and all that. But I'm curious. Is it a skin thing? If they were to be hurt subdermally, how would that manifest? And is their resistance to fire or to all heat in general? Does the source or cause matter?"

Marcus was staring at her in half-boredom, half-confusion, not seemingly understanding were her ramblings were going. Iago, on the other hand, had a look of dawning realisation washing over his face.

She grinned, removing the bolt from the flame, the metal now bright red. "Let's find out shall we?"