#except I don't want to end it on an odd numbered chapter

[ceiling-karasu]

New Chapter of Lily Bell in the Thorn Thicket

[rare-clone-fic-exchange]

Double, Double Boil and Trouble - Part 1

It is I, @dystopicjumpsuit, with a fic written especially for my beloved longtime reader @goblininawig!

Pairing: Clone Trooper Boil x Reader (GN; reader practices tasseomancy/reads tea leaves) 

Rating: T but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings and tags: fluff; minor angst; Star Wars swearing; Boil is canonically a bit of a tool; Boil still has his mustache 

Summary: Boil and his friends visit a fortune-telling shop during a night out on Coruscant.

A/N: There will be at least one more chapter coming soon. Don't worry, it ends happily 🧡

Suggested listening: "Reaching for the Moon," by Ella Fitzgerald

https://open.spotify.com/track/1PSpnTbP2TnstBbSpcGWGb?si=efc74bbdd4c34465

Stak, Razor and Wooley were approaching the raucous stage of inebriation as Boil sipped his iazacal liquor and watched them in stoic silence. By his calculation, they had about thirteen minutes left before they all got eighty-sixed from 79’s. They probably would have made it, except some shiny from the 104th got a little overly familiar with the pretty Twi'lek bartender, raising Wooley's immediate ire. The ensuing confrontation got them all kicked out and banned from the club for a week.

Boil would have happily gone back to the GAR barracks and pretended to sleep, but the others were determined to make the most of their first night of shore leave, and so they ventured out into the frigid, rainy night to explore the district around the clone bar in search of further entertainment. 

They didn't have to look far; the entertainment district was packed with all varieties of businesses eager to separate tourists from their credits. Unfortunately, most of them also had signs proclaiming “NO CLONES ALLOWED” displayed prominently in their windows.

We're good enough to die for them, but not good enough for them to let us have lives, he reflected bitterly.

“Look, that one allows clones,” Stak said, pointing to a small shop illuminated by lurid neon signs.

“A fortune teller?” Boil scoffed. “Might as well just toss your credits into the underworld portal. It'll get you the same result in the end.”

“Don't be such a kriffin’ buzzkill,” Wooley said. “I want to find out if there's a tall, good-looking stranger in my future.”

“If that's how you describe a super-battle droid, I'd say the odds are good,” Boil retorted.

“Well, I’m not going to stand out in the rain,” Stak said, overruling Boil’s objections.

Thus, the troopers soon found themselves in a cramped, stuffy room that reeked of incense and was cluttered with a dizzying array of mystical and occult paraphernalia. Their damp wool uniforms smelled like wet hounds, and condensation fogged the windows, making the neon city outside look blurry and dreamlike. The four fortune tellers who greeted them were dressed in elaborate, flamboyant robes that Boil highly doubted were authentic to any culture in the galaxy, but they were very effective in giving them an otherworldly—almost fantastical—air. 

Stak opted to have his palm read; Razor was intrigued by the card reader; and Wooley opted for runes, leaving Boil alone with the remaining con artist—er, fortune teller. He sized up the civvie before him, trying not to look openly hostile as he searched for the words to politely decline whatever snake oil remained to be peddled. Before he could speak, though, the charlatan—kriff—fortune teller gave him a dazzling smile, and Boil blinked, taken completely off guard.

You weren't particularly surprised when the first three troopers quickly paired up with your partners. Their styles of fortune telling were certainly flashier and more attractive to many customers than your quieter approach. Still, none of them could boast the numbers of loyal repeat customers that flocked to you again and again. The difficulty lay in convincing them to give you a chance in the first place.

The remaining clone did not look like the type to give you a chance. He stared at you and your partners with hard, jaded eyes and a mouth set in a firm line beneath his mustache. As his fellow troopers paired off one at a time with the other mediums, he looked more and more skittish, until it was just the two of you left in the reception room. It was clearly time to break out your secret weapon.

You gave him your patented brilliant smile that walked the perfect line between welcoming and subtly flirtatious. “Welcome. Am I right in thinking that your brothers wanted to have their fortunes read, and they insisted you come with them?”

He blinked at the force of your smile, then gave you the most reluctant half-smile you’d ever seen. “That obvious?”

“I don’t need to be psychic to see that you don’t want to be here,” you replied.

He laughed shortly. “No offense, but I don’t believe in any of this.”

“No offense taken. Perhaps you'd like to join me for a cup of tea while you wait for your brothers. When they're finished, you can pretend I read your tea leaves. No charge, of course.” You gave him a cheeky grin. “I won't tell if you don't.”

Some of the tension eased out of his shoulders at your offer. “Thanks. That’d be… nice.”

You led him into your reading room and invited him to sit wherever he liked. He looked around the room curiously before settling onto the ancient velvet sofa. You began to prepare a pot of tea for the two of you to share.

“Not exactly what I was expecting,” he observed as he looked around the cozy space furnished with soft, somewhat shabby furniture and bathed in the soft light of a few old-fashioned lamps. “Where are all the crystals and tchotchkes?”

“I prefer to minimize distractions during readings,” you replied. “Though as you can see, I do try to make it as comfortable as possible for my guests.”

“‘Guests,’” he snorted. “Is that what you call them?”

You raised your eyebrows at his tone. “Yes. And while I fully accept that you are skeptical of the services we provide, I draw the line at outright rudeness. If you intend to insult me, my colleagues, or our guests, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

He flinched, realizing he’d overstepped. “Apologies.”

You accepted his begrudging apology as you finished brewing the tea and arranged a small plate of sweet pastries. You had plenty of experience with the clone troopers, and you knew they tended to have a sweet tooth. Besides, you’d smelled the unmistakable scent of iazacal wafting off of him, and you hoped that his sullen mood might improve if he sobered up a bit. Hence, tea and pastries.

He tugged his gloves off and laid them neatly on the low table, wrapping his hands around the cup of tea you passed him. It was a cold night, and his uniform was damp from the rain, so it was no surprise to feel the chill of his skin when his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him the drink. You poured a cup for yourself, then curled up with the other at the opposite end of the small sofa, tucking your feet under you and leaving a small gap between yourself and him. His eyes flickered over you briefly as you sat. At least his expression was no longer actively hostile, though you also wouldn’t exactly describe him as friendly. He sniffed the tea curiously. 

“Is this magical tea?” he asked in a faintly mocking tone.

“Certainly not,” you replied with dignity. “I never perform spellwork on someone without their consent. Besides, the magic tea is too expensive to give away for free.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” he said.

You merely gave him a mysterious smile. “I didn’t catch your name earlier.” 

“Don’t you know it already?” he asked with a tiny smirk.

“Never heard that one before,” you said drily.

“You’re right. It was a low-hanging meiloorun,” he admitted. “Name’s Boil.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Boil,” you said.

“Now I know you’re lying,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Fine, it’s an… experience to meet you,” you laughed. “What are you boys up to this fine Coruscanti evening?”

He shrugged. “Same as every shore leave. Gettin’ kriffed up. Tryin’ not to think too hard.”

You nodded. It wasn’t the first time a clone trooper had said something similar to you, and it wouldn’t be the last. “Is it working?”

He met your eyes. “Might have if those di’kuts hadn’t gotten us kicked out of the bar.”

“Music is better here.”

He frowned. “I don’t hear any music.”

“Exactly.”

He laughed, a genuine laugh for the first time since he’d walked into your shop. “You’re not wrong. What about you? Busy night?”

“Oh, you know, fleecing innocent tourists, bewitching unsuspecting troopers on shore leave, making pacts with the forces of darkness, eating more pastry than I should.”

“So an average Centaxday, then,” he said with a grin. When he smiled, his entire face transformed. His eyes lit; the lines of stress eased on his forehead; and he looked younger, less hardened.

“Maybe a few less blood sacrifices than usual,” you said with a smile.

“We’ve all had to cut back in this economy,” he replied, deadpan.

“So true. We should protest in front of the Senate building.”

“You’d certainly catch some eyes in that,” he said, gesturing toward your elaborate costume. 

“Then I must be doing it right,” you replied with a tiny smirk.

“So it’s all for show, then?” he asked, his voice neutral, but his eyes speculative.

You took a delicate sip of your tea and sighed with pleasure at the taste. “People have certain… expectations about the way someone in my line of work will look. Who am I to disappoint them?”

“So you exploit their expectations to manipulate them for profit,” he observed without heat.

“You certainly don’t pull your punches,” you said. It was far from the worst accusation you’d had flung at you by a disgruntled customer, but it still stung to learn that you sat so low in his opinion. “Do you feel like I’m swindling you with free tea and pastries?”

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then rose back to meet your eyes. “Nothing is free.”

“And you say I’m the cynical one,” you replied with a level stare.

“Just an observation.”

“And what else do you observe about me?” you asked.

He sat back and surveyed you slowly, raking his eyes down your body. You felt your pulse kick up at his scrutiny; you were accustomed to people eyeing you like a piece of meat—so many would-be guests didn’t seem to comprehend the difference between paying for your services and paying for your body—but rarely did you have the sense that someone truly perceived you. You sat calmly with a slight, defiant tilt to your jaw, refusing to let him know he’d rattled you.

“For starters,” he said, “the fortune teller act is just that: an act. You've gotten a little tired of it, but it pays the bills.”

“I prefer ‘medium.’”

He laughed mirthlessly. “But you don’t deny the rest.”

“Would you believe me if I did?”

He didn’t reply, but merely took a long drink of tea. “I can also tell that you're clever, charming, and very good at reading people. How am I doing so far?”

“You should have led with that,” you replied, adjusting the drape of your robes. “The flattery would have made it easier to swallow being called a fraud.”

“Like I said. Just an observation.”

You smiled faintly. “Shall I tell you what I observe about you?”

“Seems fair,” he said with a confident smirk. “I’m just an amateur, after all. Can’t wait to see the master at work.”

You leaned forward slightly and gazed deeply into his eyes. After a few seconds, he glanced away, setting his half-empty cup of tea down on the low table, then he sat back and folded his arms over his chest, staring back at you with his jaw set in a stubborn line.

“You lost someone,” you said softly.

He huffed derisively, looking away. “We’re in a war. Everybody has lost someone.”

“Not just someone,” you replied, unperturbed by his interruption. “A brother.”

His eyes jolted back to yours. “Everyone knows we clones call each other ‘brother.’ We’re bred to die. It’d be more surprising if I hadn’t lost a brother.”

He snatched up his teacup and tossed back the rest of the tepid brew, his eyes hard and angry.

“May I see your cup?” you asked.

His brows snapped together as he eyed you suspiciously, but he handed it over. You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, but he didn’t relax as you peered down into his cup to examine the leaves that clung to the delicate porcelain.

“There’s a word,” you said slowly. “It’s not Basic or Sy Bisti. It could be a name.”

Despite himself, he leaned closer, trying to see what you saw.

“Boil… does ‘Nerra’ mean anything to you?”

Boil shot to his feet, staggering backward. “How do you know that?”

His voice was hoarse and strained. You set down the cup carefully and rose from the sofa.

“How the hell do you know that?” he repeated, his voice a menacing growl as he advanced a step closer to you.

Quite suddenly, he seemed to tower over you, and your heart raced as you realized that you could be in real danger. You subtly reached for the small panic button that you kept concealed in one of your many bracelets, but before you could call for help, he whirled abruptly and stormed out of the shop into the torrential downpour of the dark Coruscant night.

You sagged with relief and closed your eyes as you leaned against the wall, breathing hard. I’m safe. He didn’t hurt me. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a pair of leather gloves sitting on the low table. You didn’t need to read the leaves in the bottom of your cup to know that he’d be back.

[twoturtlesinabathtub]

so I think you mentioned you were working on a new fic in your series. what all has been happening with that? any new details? I’m eagerly awaiting the next chapter :)

Yes! Fic 4 of 5 is coming along nicely—it's just been going a bit slowly, since I'm dealing with some health issues and have been prioritizing those. I'm glad you're excited haha, so here's a sneak peak at the beginning of the fic.

"You crazy bastard, you did it. You actually did it," said Chris, clapping Leon on the back so hard that he stumbled forward a step. "Welcome to S.T.A.R.S., man."

Leon chuckled, clutching tightly the new uniform that had been pressed into his arms about ten minutes before. It wasn't his favorite color—the olive drab of the pants and vest could only do so much for one's complexion—but he could do worse. He fleetingly wondered why the hell the shirt was so white. That didn't seem very practical.

"Thanks," he replied. "Hopefully it won't take long to adjust."

"Nah. You'll crush it, trust me."

Captain Marini seemed to have sensed Leon hadn't wanted to be the center of attention that day, and kept introductions brief—an unnecessary effort, really, since almost every S.T.A.R.S. member on both teams had seen Leon around the office several times over the past year or so.

The worst part had been what Enrico had said to Wesker a few minutes ago.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to snatch him up, first," Marini had remarked. Leon had been by Chris as his friend explained they'd be sharing a desk for the time being, and Leon had been able to overhear the two captains conversing, Wesker leaning against the doorframe of his office with arms casually folded. "Pretty sure we can whip him into shape fast," Enrico had continued. "I almost feel bad for yanking him out from under you." Miraculously, Leon had managed not to choke.

"A missed opportunity on my part, perhaps," Wesker had mused, and Leon had practically been able to hear the suppressed smirk in those nasal tones.

"Who knows? Maybe I can lend him to you, sometime. You know I don't mind sharing."

Chris had squinted at Leon. "That was one weird noise you just made. You had the chicken salad for lunch, didn't you? I told you it looked off," he tutted, shaking his head.

"I appreciate the offer, Enrico," Wesker had said, somehow sounding completely unaffected. "I'm sure Leon could prove flexible enough to perform well in a number of positions. You have good taste."

Leon's attention returned to the present, and he caught the tail-end of Chris saying Leon could look through any of the desk drawers he wanted, but the point man wouldn't be liable for any therapy bills that might ensue.

"What the hell, I'll even let you put up a poster," said Chris, slapping the wall next to his desk. "Except for Mötley Crüe. No goddamn Mötley Crüe. Got it?"

Leon snorted. "Got it."

"Good. And you'll want to talk to Richard soon—he loves to help the new ones out. Right, Rebecca?" Leon and Chris glanced over at the medic, who was seated near the switchboards at the end of the room; she glanced over her shoulder, gave the men a quick thumbs-up and a bright grin, then went back to studying the consoles like she could make them catch fire with her mind.

Leon couldn't help quirking a brow at his friend, even as a fought back a smile. "You're pretty excited—maybe just as excited as I am. Are you assuming me being around the office more means I can pick up even more of your slack?"

"You said it, not me," Chris replied, holding up his hands. "Besides, odds are we won't even be working the same hours very often. Bravo members usually take nights, so you're probably gonna mostly be working the graves shift—which brings me to my next point."

"Your what now?"

Chris's smile was wide and warm. "We should do something fun before your schedule's completely fucked. Jill," he said, turning to catch his fellow teammate's attention.

Valentine was cleaning her gun nonchalantly, boots up on her desk as she leaned back in her swivel chair. "Yeah?"

"You catch all that?"

"Obviously—you're four feet away from me." Jill smiled at Leon. "Good job, Kennedy." Leon returned the expression, albeit a bit self-consciously; he had to actively remind himself not to act like an imbecile in front of one of the people he practically hero-worshipped. "Knew you had it in you."

"Oh, uh, thanks. Yeah." Idiot.

"When does your new schedule start?" Chris asked, craning his neck to look back at Leon.

"Friday night."

"Perfect—plenty of time for you to sleep off a potential hangover." Chris turned towards Jill once more. "So, Harry's? Thursday? We can roll out the welcome wagon."

Jill smirked, slotting the magazine back into her gun without looking. "Like we need an excuse to get drunk. I'll ask around."

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 26

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst, a bit of fluff.

Warnings: Sleep inducing magic.

***

Author's Note: I made it in 27 days, that's an improvement for me ;3

***

“I see.” Diavolo folded his hands in front of him on the dinner table as Barbatos began to serve dessert, “So that's how you managed to make it safely out of the underground labyrinth.”

Diavolo had asked for a retelling of your group’s adventure and it had taken all of dinner to explain. Solomon meticulously reported the group’s every move starting from the moment he summoned Asmo to his side, while Mammon and Levi filled in the parts before their party had met up with yours. Beel’s contribution to the conversation was mostly in the form of affirmative grunts as he stuffed his face with Barbatos’ delicious cooking. Every so often, Diavolo would ask direct questions of you or the others, listening intently all the while.

Asmo butted in when it came to the part he had played in the grand escape. His interpretation of the events was quite theatrical and self indulgent, making it seem like using his charm on Henry had been his idea all along. You met eyes with Solomon from across the table but he’d just shrugged and neither of you said anything to correct Asmo’s embellishments to the story.

“You know, now that I think about it, the whole reason we were able to escape was because of me and how stunningly beautiful I am!” Asmo tossed his hair.

“Yeah, but you were also the reason all of you ended up in the labyrinth to begin with, Asmo.” Satan said.

“Right, that's what I'm sayin'. That was terrible, and it was all YOUR fault, Asmo!” Mammon pointed at him accusingly with his dessert fork.

Asmo glared daggers at his older brother. Lies and slander. It had all been a big mistake. Helene had just been too emotional to deal with seeing Asmo’s beauty after so long that she’d lashed out. Who could blame her? He really was that gorgeous. Asmo was about to say something to defend himself when Diavolo spoke.

“You really should be careful in the castle. There are a number of items here with suspicious histories to them.” The demon prince frowned, swirling his glass of Demonus. “I can't guarantee that there aren't others in the castle who also want to get even with you, Asmodeus.”

There was something he wasn't saying, Asmo could tell, just like earlier when he’d given Asmo that odd look before he’d left your assigned room.

But Asmo didn't care, not really. He didn't have time to figure out what Diavolo’s cryptic behavior meant. That was a job for someone closer to the prince, like Lucifer. He’d simply have to wait until Lucifer decided to tell him what it all meant, if it was even relevant by then.

“It's just wrong to be this beautiful…” Asmo sighed.

***

After dinner, everyone thought it best to retire for the night. It had been a very long day.

“Well, time for me to get some sleep. Nighty-night, you two!” Asmo said as he patted an evening moisturizing mask into his skin, his bangs pulled back with a couple of bobby pins. He’d forwent his usual leisurely bath in favor of a quick shower. It was impressive just how efficient his nightly routine was, completing the multi-step process in only minutes.

“You're going to bed already?” Simeon asked, paging through one of the books on the side table, “It's awfully early for that.”

“Lack of sleep leads to unhealthy skin, and I don't want that! I'm sure both of you want to see me looking my best, right?” Asmo hung his silk robe on a hook before searching for something in one of the several bags he’d brought with him. “We have the dance tomorrow, remember? I may no longer be an angel but I’m still that Radiant Jewel everyone knows and loves. I have to dazzle, that’s what people are expecting and I will not disappoint.”

“Well, I suppose that means that I'll get to enjoy some peace and quiet tonight, which is much appreciated.” Simeon selected a book, Dante’s Inferno, and sat on his bed, crossing his ankles as he cracked it open on his lap.

You changed into your pajamas behind the modesty screen, “I was thinking of going to bed now, too.” By the end of dinner you’d had difficulty keeping yourself awake. Satan had even needed to poke you in the side a few times as you’d spaced out over dessert. Your body and mind were worn out from everything that had happened in the labyrinth.

“I hope you have sweet dreams, MC,” said Simeon as he dimmed the lights of the room, leaving a single magically lit candle by his bedside for a reading light.

“Thank you, I hope you do too.” You pulled back the covers on your bed.

“The sweetest dreams are the ones involving me,” Asmo tossed a wink over his shoulder at you as he turned down his own bedding. He pulled out a cobalt blue spray bottle and spritzed the sheets about a dozen times until the vapor glittered in the air as it floated down onto the bed. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance, “You’ll have to tell me if something spicy happens between the two of us, it’s only fair.” He set the bottle down on the bedside table before hopping onto his bed.

The poof of the comforter under Asmo’s weight sent a bit of the fine mist swirling in your direction, you could feel it settling over your skin. It was a pleasant scent, relaxing and cozy.

Asmo slipped a pink silk sleep mask over his eyes as he nestled into the plush bedding, his back turned to you.

The bedroom door burst open.

“HEY! Look who's here...it's Mammon! And you know what that means?! You ain't gonna be gettin' ANY sleep tonight! АНАНАНА!” He made a beeline for your bed and sat, bouncing a few times.

“Mammon, it's late,” you complained, making a point to lay back onto your pillow and pulling the covers over yourself.

Simeon gave a longsuffering sigh, “Asmo, he's your brother, isn't he? Do you think you could possibly do something about him?”

Asmo gave a low growl, tipping up the corner of his sleep mask as he sent a single sticker over text to Lucifer. How that could possibly be helpful, you weren't sure.

“All right all right all right! Time for a pillow fight deathmatch with the Avatar of Greed himself!” He clawed at your sheets as if to free you from your comfy nest of blankets, while you did everything in your power to keep them around you. “LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!”

The screen of Asmo’s D.D.D. went dark and he further cocooned himself in the plush comforter.

“Mammon, please,” You debated trying a pact command on him to get him to stop, but without the use of magic it was very hit or miss whether a command would “take”. It was more like a suggestion and gentle prodding in your favor rather than full control over him, and he usually had to be paying attention and already somewhat inclined to do what you asked. Right now Mammon was neither.

“Let's get started before that ass Lucifer comes round on patrol and starts botherin' us!” He laughed mischievously, tearing the pillow from under your head.

“I'm sorry. Who did you just call an ass?” Lucifer’s dark form filled the doorway.

“Yikes!” Mammon ducked behind your bed.

Lucifer crossed the room in three strides, “You're coming to my room. Now. And tonight it's not going to be just me in there, but Diavolo as well. I have a feeling we're going to have all sorts of fun, don't you?” His eyes glowing as his hand closed tightly around Mammon’s forearm, yanking him out the door and closing it behind him.

When the room was silent once again, Asmo shifted under the covers and Simeon resumed reading his book by candlelight.

Despite that brief disruption, you could feel the tension of the day rolling off of you as you settled into your own bed, replacing your pillow and cuddling into the comforter once more, everything fading to black as your eyes slipped closed.

You drifted off to sleep in a cloud of lavender and vanilla and something herbal you couldn't quite place…

***

You woken up way too soon by a knock at the bedroom door.

“Come in!” Asmo sang cheerfully. He'd already been awake for a while, having completed his morning skincare routine, now putting the finishing touches on his makeup as he hummed to himself.

The door swung open and Lucifer stepped into the room.

“Good morning, Lucifer,” Simeon stretched as he woke, greeting his former brother. “You're up bright and earlier than I’m used to. That’s two days in a row.”

“With good reason,” said Lucifer, his voice gruff from the earliness of the hour but his appearance pristine, “Breakfast will begin in twenty minutes, I trust none of you will be late, especially the two of you under my charge?”

“I’m almost ready,” Asmo said, twirling once in front of the bathroom mirror. “Oh but look at them, still snoozing away. It’s like we have another Belphie on our hands.”

You were still snuggled into the comforter.

It felt like it had been no more than a few minutes since you went to bed last night. Like Lucifer had dealt with Mammon and returned right away. Confused, you tried to will your eyes to open, but they wouldn't. Your mind was awake, and you could hear everything that was going on. But you were still tired.

It wouldn't take you that long to get ready, five more minutes of sleep would be fine…

Lucifer nudged your shoulder. “MC, wake up.”

“Mmh…” You rolled over in bed and sunk deeper into the covers, not being able to find the words to answer Lucifer or send him away.

With a sigh, he knelt at your bed, leaning over your sleeping form. The lingering scent of Asmo’s pillow spray wafted over you with his movement.

“Not a morning person? Well neither am I,” Lucifer’s low voice whispering in your ear would have sounded seductive if he didn't follow it up with a mild threat, “Downstairs in twenty minutes or I’ll have Beel eat your portion of breakfast.”

It didn't matter, your eyes still wouldn't open and your limbs felt heavy and useless. You couldn't get out of bed and you didn't really want to. It was too early for this, though you didn't know what time it was. You just knew you needed to sleep longer.

Your enchanted bracelet buzzed away on your ankle, feeling like a light shock of electricity, a zap running up your leg. But you began to tune it out. You were so… So sleepy…

Lucifer sniffed the air as he stood between your bed and Asmo’s. “Is that Nightfog oil?”

“Hmm?” Asmo was busy gazing into his own eyes in the mirror. “Oh, yes it is. It’s in that new pillow spray I got from Savonne,” he indicated the spray bottle on the bedside table, “Doesn't it just smell lovely?”

Lucifer gave an exasperated sigh, “Asmodeus, you can't use Nightfog oil around humans, not without taking extreme care. It’s too potent.”

“What? How was I supposed to know?” Asmo squeaked.

“You would know if you paid attention in Applied Magical Potions last semester,” Lucifer picked up the glass bottle and squinted to read the ingredients list. There was no warning label. He would have to inform Diavolo so the oversight could be corrected. “It can cause somnolence, and in large doses, prolonged sleep. You only used it on your own bed, correct?”

“Huh?” Asmo didn't realize he was gripping the edge of the countertop so tightly until he heard a faint pop sound and looked down to see the cracks spiderwebbing from his fingertips across the surface. He pushed off from the counter and went to dig in his makeup bag for some nail polish to fix a chipped nail. “Yes, I… It wasn't a very large dose, I just sprayed it a few times on the sheets.”

“They had no direct contact with it?”

Asmo shook his head, avoiding Lucifer’s eye as he twisted open the bottle of pink nail polish, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice, “Th-they should be ok then, right?”

Lucifer shook you a bit harder to see if you would stir. “Direct contact or ingestion is when Nightfog oil is at its most…” He chose his words carefully, noticing Asmo’s anxiety, “Efficacious. The fact that it’s been diluted with other ingredients is also good but…” You just continued to sleep, now snoring lightly.

“Oh dear,” Simeon came to your bedside. “Is there something we can do? I would offer to give them a blessing but I don’t think that would be wise to do within the Demon Lord’s castle.”

“No, it wouldn't be.” Lucifer scrubbed his face with his hand. This was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now, especially at this hour. He waved toward the bed behind him, “We have to remove the stimuli. Strip the sheets and pillows from Asmo’s bed and have the little Ds come collect them. They’ll need to be replaced.” He got up and threw open the window while Simeon dealt with the bedding.

Asmo chewed on his lip as he watched from the bathroom doorway as Lucifer performed a spell to neutralize and expel the remaining scent. A light breeze rustled the sheets of your bed.

Lucifer moved to wake you again, rather aggressively if his body language was anything to go by, when Simeon laid a hand on his shoulder and took his place, kneeling by your side.

“MC, dear,” He brushed your hair out of your face, “It’s time to wake up.”

At Simeon’s caress, you began to stir. He helped you to sit up in bed as you stretched and woke.

“Nightfog oil, huh.” You grumbled, rubbing your tired eyes.

Asmo’s shoulders sagged in relief, as did Lucifer’s.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and reached down to massage your calf, the shock from your bracelet only just beginning to fade.

“Crisis averted.” Lucifer shot Asmo a pointed look, “I think we can forgo punishment this time since it seems to have been an accident. The last thing I need is for Diavolo to complain that I’m being too hard on you again.”

“Again?” Asmo asked.

He picked up the bottle of pillow spray, ignoring Asmo’s question, “However, I'm confiscating this so you don’t accidentally put MC under a hundred years’ restless sleep.” He slipped it into his pocket with a wry smile as the clock tower chimed a quarter to the hour. Lucifer caught your eye, “Fifteen minutes.” And swept out the door.

You stood and stumbled your way to the bathroom to get ready, nearly bumping into Asmo.

Something strange crossed over Asmo’s face, but it was gone as soon as it came, “Oh my,” He giggled nervously as he took in your bed head and bleary, dark rimmed eyes, glaring right at him.

With a quick nod, he shoved a jar of eye cream into your hands and hurried after Lucifer.

***

The magic eye cream Asmo let you borrow made you look well-rested, but you were practically falling asleep at the breakfast table.

When Diavolo caught you yawning as you filled your plate, he recommended Assam tea and personally poured you a cup. You were sure you saw Lucifer laughing behind his hand when he saw your reaction to your first sip, but he hid it well, falling back into polite conversation before you could call him out.

You’d only been able to choke down the bitter tea once you added copious amounts of honey (of the non-poisonous variety, Mammon wouldn't pass you the jar until he’d made sure of that, despite Barbatos informing him he'd only set the table with human-safe options) and milk to it. The tea did give you a little caffeine buzz and helped you feel more alert, but sleep’s siren call still tempted you in the recesses of your mind.

“All right, it's time to explain what we have planned for day two of our retreat.” Lucifer said, standing at the head of the breakfast table once everyone had finished eating.

“A scavenger hunt, right?” said Simeon.

“Yes, we'll be having a scavenger hunt.” Lucifer confirmed. “Each group will be given riddles to solve. Each riddle hints at one of the works of art or historical items here in the castle. Once you figure out the answer, you find and take a picture of the item in question. The things you learned during yesterday's tour of the castle should come in handy as you try solving your riddles.” He passed out itemized lists to everyone.

“We're doing this in groups, huh? In that case, I'm groupin' up with MC.” Mammon reached for your hand.

“Why don't we just say that the groups will be made up of the same people you share a room with?” Diavolo suggested.

Mammon growled, there was no arguing with the prince, not while Lucifer was there. He stomped away to join his group as everyone left the table, lists in hand.

Simeon helped you up from your chair, while Asmo hovered at a distance, waiting as the other groups dispersed in random directions.

“Since you actually got to finish the tour yesterday, Simeon, you’ll have to lead.” You said.

“Of course, I’d be happy to,” said Simeon. He scanned down the list thoughtfully. “Hm, Let’s start with the difficult things first.” He chose a riddle at the bottom of the list and read it through a few times. “The answer to this one is… The enchanted moondial in the back garden.”

“Alright,” Asmo gave a mock salute and took off, not waiting for either of you.

With a shrug, you took Simeon’s offered hand and the two of you followed after him.

**

Cross-posted on AO3

[aforrestofstuff]

Chapter 173 Expert Review: The "Hey, my boyfriend saw you across the bar and we really dig your vibe" Edition

The cover makes me so uncomfortable it's like I'm at a party and said something weird just as the music went quiet and everyone heard and they're all looking at me and everyone hates me and I'm so anxious and

Welcome to the Chapter 173 Expert Review! I have completely lost count of how many of these I've done. If you're coming here for a well-thought-out meta-commentary on the hit series franchise anime manga One Punch Man, then look elsewhere because I put a grand total of ten minutes of thought into this post that took me 45 minutes to write.

I hope you're all well. If you're new here from Twitter then yes, I'm really always like this and I apologize. I don't know how to segway to the actual commentary, so um......... here we gooooooo.....

I don't know what I was expecting. Could I have predicted that Murata would yassify Bofoi? Probably. Do I ever want to come to terms with the fact that he did? No.

Shut up I'm not saying anything. I'm not saying anything. I'm not. He looks like he's wearing those really oversized dentures at Party City. His head looks more like an egg than Saitama's. Why does he still look kinda.... no I'm not gonna say it. I'm not. I'M NOT. GET OUT OF MY HEAAADD RAAAAAAEERERARAAAAWW

I'D FUCK HIM!!!! I'D FUCK BOFOI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING HE'S NOT AN ENDEARING SORT OF UGLY OK IM SICK OF IT!!! I'M GONNA DESTROY HIS OLD MAN CERVIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANNA FUCK HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How many enemies has Saitama made just by existing already. Is this number three? Sonic, God, and now Bofoi? Oh, well, I guess Saitama did fuck up his robots but that was self-defense 100% and it WILL hold up in the court of law.

Oh, okay. Now we have a better idea of the timeline since Saitama became a hero.... only two months???? Dude, I've had packages lost in the mail for longer than that.

I kinda thought he'd been a hero for at least six months. I guess what Garou said about coming back to fuck up the heroes after six months at the beginning of his arc was only a sort of red herring to make it seem like he'd be the world-ending Shibabooby prophecy, but in relation to how long Saitama's been a hero, turns out my guy only fucked shit up for like, what? One month?

Was this just obvious to everyone else except me. I really should've never learned how to read dawg.

THANK YOU Amai Mask for being the "Please explain the plot so readers with the comprehension skills of fourth graders can know what's going on" character in this because I swear to fucking god I had no clue what anyone was talking about.

Also, Ninja Leader makes an appearance as Blast's totally super platonic partner. Supposedly they were "searching for a mysterious cube" together. People these days make up such weird euphemisms for skipping work to fuck each other in a ditch, I swear. 🙄🙄🙄

A couple of things:

Is Blast wearing the Ninja Leader's glasses in the present? Oh, so they really were super platonic, huh.

You mean to tell me bro aged THIS MUCH in two years? 700 days ago he was late-twenties rager at Planet Fitness and now he's a 57-year-old salt and pepper daddy at the gay bar?

I guess it could have something to do with his powers, manipulating space-time and all that. Blast teleports through something that is basically a copy-and-pasted black hole, which could explain why time flows differently for him, but doesn't time slow down near a black hole? So he should be aging slower if anything.

So, did God age him? Is this even the same Blast that came in contact with God? Something something uuuhh time travel something something...

I don't fucking know. This could also just be a case of "Murata doesn't know how to draw people that look their age" although he's been getting better about that, at least... Just seems ODD to me that Blast has aged like an avocado in a manga where characters only seem to look younger as time goes by.

Very noble that he's fighting God alone with the Interdimensional Justice League and their Pocket Dimension Pool Table to protect everyone else. Something still feels fishy about this, though........ especially since he's a deadbeat ass dad in the webcomic. I don't trust a GODDAMN thing this boy has to say. I DONT CARE IF HE'S HOT!! And I think that is so brave of me.

Forrest has a theory and everyone's gotta hear about it a million times until he's proven otherwise.

Y'all already heard me say how God has one-sided beef with Saitama because Saitama broke the limiter God had placed on him, and I suppose that alone is still a decent reason for God to be pulled to Earth, but I still think God's full body (and power) is imprisoned in the dimensional seal Blast was screaming about as Saitama was fighting Monster Garou V2.

And Saitama's habit of fucking shit up as collateral for saving the world is further eroding God's jail cell, so he's unknowingly helping his enemy get closer to him. This fucking goober.

It makes sense because the massive body in the seal looks like a fully-formed person, whereas whenever we see God free, he's always a sort of unfinished skeletal figure. He's incomplete.

Is this another one of those things where it seems painfully obvious to everyone else except me. Y'all are free to hop in my inbox and call me a dumbass if you want.

Final thoughts because this review is already too goddamn long and I wanted to shitpost a bit more but I guess I can do that on other posts because I'm TIRED.

All in all, we really needed a good expo-debrief chapter to put everything in perspective because the Monster Association arc was a load of reveals with not a lot of resolutions. I think the ending was still very anticlimactic because, although we were introduced to a lot of shit like God and Blast and whatnot, none of that was really tied up in a satisfying way, nor left on an interesting cliffhanger. Just more and more questions. Even Garou's arc hasn't ended really, and all the development he and Saitama had gone through was forgotten (for NOW, because of Genos' core, but I digress) so it almost feels like... not much really happened at all. Nothing really ended, it was just a collection of more plot threads beginning.

I wish ONE waited a bit longer to really delve into God and Blast because I think the Monster Association arc could've been a lot more comprehensive and well-paced if it had just been (mostly) contained to what was happening between the heroes and monsters. But I can appreciate how comprehensive the plot is now after the fallout, just... the road to get here was rocky. I lost all the tires on my jeep.

I'm excited for Psychic Sisters.

In conclusion: if you were at the Whole Foods down the street and took a blue bike tied to the railing then you're a fucking bitch GIVE IT BACK!! THAT'S MY FUCKING BIKE!!

GIVE BACK MY FUCKING BIKE!!!!! YOU STOLE MY BIKE!!

p.s. -- I'm still waiting for the Zombiedad and Child Emperor Get Milkshakes Together omake. Murata, pls. Also give my bike back.

Thanks for reading. Please, I need my bike.

[bts-story]

LOVE IS CHAOS

masterlist / previous chapters

Chapter two - Seven of diamonds

"Do you think there are other people who could participate in this game?" 

"I don't know," Niragi replied in a jaded tone, "but we can go look." 

The building across the street was an office tower of an old telephone company, you could recognize their logo plastered against the first floor bay windows. Looking around, there was no one around, no one for hours, but an uncertain look crossed your four eyes as you finally made your way inside the building. 

The vast entrance was empty except for two tables in the center of the room. One of them, the one on the left, had exactly two cell phones carefully placed on it. While on the right table, there were some kind of mechanical necklaces that looked nothing like the ones Niragi usually liked to see around your neck. Also, another sign in the middle of these two tables said 'One per person.

"What the hell is this shit again?" Niragi swore, and today it seemed he had decided to swear three times more than usual. Even though you had to admit that you were thinking the exact same thing as him at that very moment. 

Taking a phone in your hand, it instantly turned on. 

Facial recognition in progress. [Y/N] [Y/L/N].  Welcome.

Niragi walked over and took another phone in his hands. 

Facial recognition in progress.  Niragi Suguru.  Welcome. 

It was only at that moment that you thought of looking at your own phone. Forgotten in the back of your pocket, the screen cracked from a previous fall, it wouldn't turn on. Which was strange because you hadn't used it all afternoon, and you were sure it was almost fully charged when you decided to go out for a cold drink with Niragi in the early afternoon. 

"I'm out of battery," you said the obvious and Niragi shrugged, as he noticed another sign, a few meters away: The game will take place on the roof of the building, with an arrow pointing to the elevators. It was strange, now that you noticed it, this building seemed to be the only place with electricity in the whole city. 

Taking the necklaces in your hands, you silently asked permission to put the necklace around your neck. With a shrug, Niragi took his and the mechanism closed silently around his throat. It was an odd sensation to see him with a collar like that and you decided that it was not a sight you really liked. It looked grotesque and out of place whereas the leather one you had at home would have made it absolutely irresistible to you.

With great caution, and after a few minutes of debate, you headed to the roof of the building, collars around your necks and silent in the elevator. Before you reached the very top though, and as the little floor numbers lit up with each level change, Niragi frowned and muttered something that sounded like "I have a bad feeling about this, babygirl." He didn't sound nervous or worried, but you could only silently agree as the pit of your stomach seemed to curl up on itself. 

"Fuck that, as long as we're together, right?" 

Niragi smirked, and you hoped it was enough to ease his fears if only yours could calm down too. "Ride or die 'till the end of the line, baby, you know it. But... until we figure out this shit, just act like we don't know each other, 'kay? They can't use that against us if they don't know shit about us." 

His voice was deep and authoritative, but totally different from when he wanted to play with your body and make you his sex slave. He didn't sound worried or curious, but suspicious and intrigued by the situation. Niragi didn't trust anyone, and the way things had gone so far made him believe that whatever was going to happen, it didn't bode well. 

You wondered who they were, but before you could ask the question that was suddenly on your mind, the elevator doors opened with a loud ding. It didn't take much to hold back that gasp of surprise when six other people were already waiting on the rooftop terrace, chilled by a windy breeze that blew across the buildings. 

The rooftop was large and spacious, there was a pool that took up a good portion of the terrace and the few ice crystals you could see in it suggested that it was frozen. It was strange because it was the middle of August. Lanterns illuminated the place with blue, red, green and yellow lights, which made the atmosphere almost festive. 

When you came, the foreign faces turned to you, staring up and down at your two figures. 

Registration closed.  The game will now begin. 

The other people exchanged glances, there were exactly three girls and three boys who completed an equal total in gender division out of eight players, including Niragi and yourself. 

Two girls were clinging to each other with frightened looks and shaking hands. A man in his forties with an unattractive physique and a suit that was too big on his shoulders avoided meeting anyone's eyes while a young woman at his side waddled around with a false air of boredom that only betrayed how scared she looked.

No one spoke, it was as if the first to speak would be executed in a second. 

Game: Truth or dare.  Difficulty: Seven of diamonds. 

If the atmosphere was tense before, it was nothing compared to what was happening now.

You weren't often afraid when Niragi was by your side. He had this menacing aura and his insults always at the edge of his lips, ready to punch the first one who dared to stand in your way. He was killing spiders, cockroaches, and any other critter that came his way. He always had that superior, arrogant look on his face that annoyed and diminished anyone who tried to talk to him a little too long. 

And over time, you had learned to stand up for yourself just as much. Snarky comments and well-placed middle fingers made you perhaps a little more bitter every day. Nothing justified these actions except the eternal boredom of human stupidity that had a way of raising your hair. 

But then, with all those frightened looks around you, it didn't help the questions that were always running around in your head. What could they possibly be afraid of? Or of whom? 

We will now be explaining the rules.  Each player is going to be asked to choose between a truth or a dare.  Each player has the obligation to complete one dare and answer one truth.  It is Game Clear if the player gets through the rounds without its collar firing.  It is Game Over if the player fails a round.  You must be as precise as you can be to increase your chances of a win.  You can not help another player.  Good luck. 

Collar firing? For real? You couldn't imagine such a thing happening, or else the collar would light up or go off to justify an elimination. Either way, you could only think of one thing: who was crazy enough to kidnap you and make you play games? 

Time limit: 1 minute per round.  Game start.  Round 1. 

"Natsuki Toki, truth or dare?" A feminine and somewhat robotic voice belched from nearby and you could see neither speakers nor television. 

The man in question seemed surprised at her name and stammering, he finally said, "Uh... I choose... I choose truth." 

The voice continued, "You have chosen truth. Please answer the following truth: who was Napoleon Bonaparte?" 

A sudden silence fell over the place and the man, incredulous, looked for answers in the eyes of the other players. Niragi, on the other hand, was watching attentively, listening patiently in order to understand as best he could what was going on. On your side, a few meters away from him so as not to let on that you were together, you were staring at each player, trying to find a meaning to all this gibberish. 

"But... but... this isn't a Truth or Dare question. You have to ask me a question about me. That's it, right?" The man asked for validation from the other players with his insistent look, but they all ignored him and none made the effort to help him. 

"45 seconds remaining."

"This is anti-gaming!" The man was clearly panicking, and the insistent look he kept giving to whoever he saw in front of him testified to the state of distress he was in. It wasn't part of the game to help him, and even if you could have, you wouldn't have. You needed to know more about the game, and what would happen if a player lost. 

Niragi had the same idea as you. He stood there with his back against the wall, away from the light and his eyes directly on the panicking man. 

"30 seconds remaining." 

"Okay... uh... Napoleon Bonaparte... so, he was a man of war, I think... uh... a Frenchman! And an emperor, right?" It wasn't a bad answer, but the voice had made it clear that as much detail as possible was needed to have any hope of winning the round. The man was still a long way from that. 

"15 seconds remaining." 

"Damn... uh... He lived between the 18th and 19th century and he... He revolutionized France because he created the Bank of France. Yes! That's right! He created the Legion of Honor too!" The man seemed to be searching the depths of his memory, as if his life depended on this very question. He stammered and stumbled over his words, but the glimmer of hope on his face was just as fascinating as the answer he had just given. You wouldn't have been able to answer that question, you had to face the truth. 

Then the female voice continued, "The time is up. The answer is," the man had drops beading on his forehead, and his heavy breath could be heard from a distance. And all of the players, including you, were eagerly awaiting the final result. "Successful." 

A wave of relief swept over the man, who let a nervous laugh come from the back of his throat. If these were indeed general knowledge questions to be answered, you knew you wouldn't have a better chance than anyone else. You were smart in an academic way, but anything related to history or math would be your downfall. 

"Mei Minari, truth or dare?" The voice began again, and the woman called startled at the sound of her name. She stepped forward to the middle of the roof, her jaw tense and her hands clenched into tight fists. 

"Dare." She threw out strongly with all the confidence she had in her. 

"You have chosen dare. Please execute the following dare: break your own hand." 

The young woman's eyes widened and she wobbled slowly on her high stilettos before looking around. Perhaps she was asking for help, or maybe, because of that determined look in the back of her irises, she was actually looking for a way to really break her hand. 

She walked over to a man, tall and strong in posture, and in a threatening tone, she called out, "You, there. Break my wrist." 

The man, who did not look at all convenient, and with eyes filled with boredom, replied after a few seconds, "Players can't help each other, remember?" 

With an expletive on the tip of her lips, the young woman then turned to scan the room as the voice dictated, "30 seconds remaining." 

She rushed to the door on the roof that seemed to lead to the stairs and jamming her hand in the gap, she took a heavy breath before slamming the door against her wrist. Immediately, a cry of pain escaped her as the other players didn't even dare look at her.

In all this, you didn't understand this devotion and in his place, you would have preferred to lose rather than break your hand like this. Or maybe there was a real danger behind all this drama, and the way Niragi's body was stretched on the other side of the terrace was more evidence of that. He didn't say a word, but unconsciously he had taken a step forward as if he was about to protect you from any threat that might approach you. 

The woman kept tapping, slamming, forcing the door against his wrist until 5 seconds remained on his allotted time. "The time is up. The mission is," the voice paused, as if to build suspense, "successful." 

With her hand bloodied and her wrist broken into a thousand pieces, the woman giggled loudly before collapsing against the floor. She had the nerve, that was a fact. Survival instinct probably. 

"Satokimi Tanaka, truth or dare?" 

This time, it was a middle schooler who stepped into the middle of the room. Hesitantly, he answered, "Dare." 

"You have chosen dare. Please execute the following dare: mortally wound the player of your choice." 

As some people began to stammer, others gaped, and at that very moment, a bright square lit up in the back wall, right next to the college student. Inside, illuminated by lights, a gun. The young man was quick to grab it with his trembling hands before someone else did it for him. From then on, he pointed his gun at the crowd in front of him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" The big-bodied man spat, his eyes frowning and looking incredulous. 

At the sound of his voice, the college kid pointed his gun at him. "I... I don't want to kill anyone!" He cried loudly as his voice shook like a dead leaf. 

"Then put the gun down, damn it!" Someone else threw, and it was then that you realized the magnitude of the situation. 

There was no way of knowing what you had ended up there for, but whatever it was, it was a matter of survival. Today was the day you were going to play the death game, and it was a pretty strange feeling if you took into consideration that your survival would not depend on you alone. 

"30 seconds remaining." 

"Shoot her," someone else pointed at the young woman with the bloody hand, still slumped against the wall and her hand hidden in her suit jacket in order to stop the hemorrhage. "She won't survive anyway." 

It was unlikely to die from a broken hand, but it was entirely possible to die from blood loss. If this woman didn't get care soon, she would lose her life, indeed. And you could go and help her, you didn't lack the desire to do so, but Niragi's imposing stature prevented you from doing anything. And you weren't stupid enough either to jump into the lion's den so quickly. You had to preserve yourself, preserve you. And if you were in danger, Niragi was too.

 "I'm fine, thanks for asking," the woman replied in a deep voice, as if it took a lot of effort for her to make even a single sound. "Why me, huh? You do it." 

"20 seconds remaining." 

"We're all healthy, why should it be any of us?" Another voice was heard. 

"Yeah, shoot her over there, she won't even be able to play the rest of the game in this condition!" Yet another voice. 

It was beginning to become a deafening din. The voices were intermingling, arguing and finding as many reasons as possible to defend themselves. But you didn't say anything, you just stood there, watching the whole show. Niragi's lips were pursed, he was frozen on the spot, as if a single movement of his would be enough to draw the attention of the shooter to one of you. 

"10 seconds remaining." 

"Come on, shoot someone, kid, or you'll die..." It was surprising to hear Niragi's voice suddenly, and the sound of his voice dominated all others. The young man turned his gun towards him and instantly your body froze, too afraid to move. 

"What if I shoot you, uh?" 

"Don't even think about it." Niragi was getting more and more threatening and you had no idea what he was playing at. You knew he would never put your life in danger if he could avoid it so drawing attention to himself like that was an extremely dangerous game. "I think the majority chose. Shoot her." 

With a jerk of his head to his right, he pointed at the woman with the broken handle. The college student turned back to her, and as the mechanical voice gave a final countdown, he whispered, "I'm sorry, ma'am, it's either you or me," before emptying his magazine at the young woman. 

The deafening sound of gunfire pierced the entire room, and the woman's body lay crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood. "The time is up. The mission is," a pause, "successful." Tears streamed down the college boy's cheeks, his hands shaking as he remained frozen in the firing position. He couldn't move, shocked by his own actions, as the voice continued, "[Y/N] [Y/L/N], truth or dare?" 

Damn it. It was your turn. 

Niragi turned around at the announcement of your name, and it was as if he understood the importance of the situation too. You didn't even have time to react to the shock of what had just happened in front of your eyes that you were already forced to follow the next part of the scenario. "Uh..." you hesitated. 

The choice was a difficult one. You wondered if each action or truth was recorded in sequence, or if each action and truth was written specifically for each player. The first option might save you from a bastard chance, while in the second scenario, it would be nearly impossible for you to survive what this whole game was. 

"Truth."

/////////

A quick note, I wrote the story with a name for the oc because I feel very weird writing 'Y/N' and it does help with nicknames and stuff. When it comes, you can just ignore it (there's not a lot lot, I promise)

[tavina-writes]

Thanks to @thebiscuiteternal for tagging me! :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 192 public works on AO3 at the moment, and a [redacted] amount unrevealed as part of various ongoing exchanges I'm writing for!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,244,211

3. What fandoms do you write for? I think I mostly write for MDZS at the moment, but Naruto is the major fandom I've spent the past ten or so years in, so it's always going to be my favorite. I also write for ASOIAF, various book fandoms, various other cdramas...etc.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Oh dear.

A Bolt of Silk - Naruto - 2,180

Prophet - Naruto - 1,889

My Teeth In Your Heart - ASOIAF - 1,833

Time Travel Tandem - Naruto - 1,593

It's not time that passes - Naruto - 1,521

None of my MDZS fic makes the list but I think that's normal! I've only been in the fandom for a year and a half, and I mostly write niche stuff so this makes perfect sense to me!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I answer comments sometimes! With irregularity because "answering comments" gets filed in the "send emails" part of my brain and I spend a lot of my professional life sending emails so it's more difficult to reply to comments. I also get concerned when I don't have a lot of say in response to a comment because I'm afraid that I don't sound too enthused when I respond with "Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!" or maybe get too infodumpy with my responses to some questions. In short I think I psyche myself out of responding to comments and I'm trying to do better about it.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm this is a difficult one. I don't think I go for angsty endings as much as I go for like, hopeful or not utterly bleak ones? I think that the ending for An Inherited Creature where WZL and JYL are still married and still stuck in Nightless City might be the suckiest ending, though the ending of maybe I'd make it alive where YZY and Madam Jin are just on the cusp of marrying their canonical husbands is on a level of aaaa re: how we know this story ends.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I DEFINITELY think this is A Bolt of Silk considering that right after the ending I wrote them a 6 chapter, 30k wedding epilogue where everything goes great!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Man. I would say no except sometimes I can recount really terrible stories. Mostly I think I don't get hate because my readers tend to be very kind, but I have, gotten some pretty odd and preachy comments at times. Once notably, when someone told me that I shouldn't've translated the nobility titles for a certain fic and kept them in the original Chinese, and I was about to respond with "my brother in Christ, we are in a Naruto fic and I am already stretching canon like a rubber band. Lets not make readers learn SO MUCH NEW WORD?" Or that one time when someone didn't. Read my fic but wanted to shill theirs in to me in the comments of my fic. But it's mostly odd and mildly entitled rather than hate commenting.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I DO write smut! This is a new accomplishment, but I have skipped right to the sexy sexy noncon/dubcon object insertion porn instead of uhhh any of the tamer things in between that and "literary sex scene where everyone is miserable"

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't really write crossovers! I have a hard time figuring out how characters from one story would react to the characters of a different one. :(

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A number of times yeah. It's bothered me before but like, mostly nowadays I'm just like "in the year of our lord 202X?????"

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not! It sounds like it would be really flattering but also So Much Work since I write longfic so often.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have occasionally but they've never really been posted. @autumnslantern very patiently listens to me yell about all of my fic ideas in her dms a lot though, which I consider vital to my writing process. Does that count as cowriting? :D

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Man this changes by day. I'm also a consummate multishipper so I can't say I have an all time favorite and more just yelling about "ISNT THIS NEAT?" about the niche thing I've discovered recently.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

God. I have no idea. If I've posted a wip I hope to finish it but I have no idea. Maybe some of my oldest Naruto works might never get done.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I handle emotionality, stories that occur over a long period of time, and atmosphere in a piece really well!

I also really like writing about grief and mourning, trauma, and trying to define ourselves inside difficult family histories. I enjoy writing about character histories, and how that informs their present, as well as complicated loyalties and internal conflict, but the jury's out on whether I can count those as strengths lol.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Man. Plot. Plot. Plot. The weakness is always the plot. I love a good parallel but a parallel is not a plot. Also at one point one of my fics was 30% man sitting sadly in a bathtub nearly dying by volume (like 3 out of 9 scenes in that fic was just this man having a bad time in a bathtub) and this is not a plot either lolll. I admire the people who can write a tightly plotted fic so much, godIwishthatwereme.jpeg. Also I'm perennially long-winded so I also think I struggle a lot with writing a 1.5k-2k fic where just, a snapshot happens. I love admiring other people's beautiful oneshots as well.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't tend to do this with dialogue though I'll include words from other languages depending. I feel like it's always so difficult to like, get the reader to know what you meant with [dialogue snippet in different language] but I've seen this handled really well in fic before so like, it does work!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh definitely Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils by Jin Yong when we were in the pits of that 13 year translation of the work. I wrote like, speculative fic based on what we already had? But mostly scene snippets and outline ideas of what would happen instead of formal fic. None of that was ever published anywhere though. In terms of "Fandom Where I First Published Fic on the Internet" it's probably Katekyo Hitman Reborn I was really big on that fandom in 2014. You won't take me alive on where that fic is though lmao.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

In terms of best written and most beloved to me at the moment and also complete it's definitely but I'm not in charge of sorrow (so please don't ask me when). How will I ever get over NHS's post canon journey in that fic honestly.

uhhh let's see, @im-sublimey, @woobifiedvillain, @lgbtlunaverse, @cerusee and anyone else who sees this and wants to play? If you've been tagged in this game already sdjdgkah APOLOGIES.

[ladydorian-writes]

five lines tag

I stole this from @agirlandherquill, hope you don't mind

Rules: find five lines based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

Maybe a little more than just a line, but here are some snippets from "With You, at the End of the World":

A Line About A Building - There's an odd sort of nostalgia, he finds, in tracing his steps from four years ago. Like a game of hopscotch played with his eyes, and each new number is another smile to add to his ever-growing collection. A house with a red awning stands on the left, where a wrinkled old sphynx cat spent its last days lounging in the window. There on the corner is a martial arts studio that used to be a hair salon, and farther down stretches a chain link fence plastered with NO SOLICITORS signs that never managed to keep the Witnesses away. He doesn't know why he remembers these things, except that they were important to Tanya, or so it seemed by the way she talked about them, shy and quiet, as though longing to tell their story, but not sure of how to start the chapter. (chapter 12: Don't Miss Me Too Much)

A Sad Line - He flips through several pages that are too painful for more than a passing glance, eventually stopping at a photo of all three of them posed at a restaurant table—still smiling, still blissfully unaware. "This was the last year we were together as a family. Claire and I divorced shortly after, and she got custody. Jack was almost seventeen, old enough in the court's eyes to refuse visitation." He can feel the tears aching to fall, the desperation burning to hold them back. "It's been thirteen years now, and we haven't spoken for so much as a second. But I still love him with all my heart. Even though I know he doesn't love me back." (chapter 17: What Are You So Afraid of?)

A Furious Line - "Yeah?" She breathes. "Is that what you want?" Her tongue darts out to scrape across her lips. "Well, go fuck yourself! Yeah, I said it! FUCK FUCK FUCK!" (chapter 16: Welcome Home)

A Line About The Weather - Raindrops sharp as knives pelt the doorframe and spit their wrath onto the welcome mat, but Tanya simply giggles her way through it, as if the deluge were no more threatening than a leaky faucet. "Don't worry, it's just a little wet," she remarks, with a brush of her palms down her skirt. "And I liked your dancing. I'd give it a nine out of ten." (chapter 4: I Might Have Committed a Thoughtcrime)

A Fun Line - "WE DID IT! We beat the robots another year!" She launches her middle fingers skywards. "Up yours Y2K!" (chapter 11: What Midnight Might Bring)

Tagging any writers who may want to do this.

Here are the prompts:

A Line About A Mistake

A Sad Line

A Furious Line

A Line About The Weather

A Fun Line

[amethystina]

Fanfic Stats Tag

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

I choose to be tagged by @imafriendlydalek!

Most Hits: Who Holds the Devil (The Devil Judge) To no one's surprise. The number of hits on that fic is insane x'D Like, I literally can't wrap my brain around that number. It's just too high. Though, obviously, it's a lot of chapters, is being posted as I write it, and I've been working on it for almost two years now. So it has a lot of opportunities to accumulate a lot of hits. But, uh, still. This fic is... yeah. It's HUGE — in more ways than one. Though I wonder how many of those hits are just people refreshing it to check if I've updated it recently x'D

Second Most Kudos: Autonomy (Marvel) This one was number one for YEARS but was recently surpassed by another Marvel fic (which is also on this list!). And I'm honestly a little bummed about that because I'm very, very proud of this fic and I liked that I could say that it was also my most popular one. Though, tbh, if the trend continues, Who Holds the Devil might just breeze past both this and the number one fic eventually. Whoops x'D

Third Most Comments: Tech Support (Marvel) And this completes the trifecta of "the three big fics fighting for all the cool stats." I.e. this is the one that currently has the most kudos. Which kind of surprises me, to be honest. I love this fic, make no mistake, but I'm also not sure why it has become so popular? But I'm also not complaining, obviously ;)

Fourth Most Bookmarks: Tech Support (Marvel) It's a close race, though. One of my Teen Wolf fics is pretty close to overtaking it (especially if I check the bookmark stats on the Statistics page as opposed to the ones publically available). Again, this fic is just generally popular, I guess?

Fifth Most Words: ... fucked if I know x'D So here's the thing. I have Taming of the Wolf (Teen Wolf) which is at 105 369 words, which right now lands it in fourth place. BUT, I'm currently posting Until Death Do Us Unite (Strangers From Hell) which is fifth at the time of writing. Except I have actually finished writing this fic already, I just haven't edited and posted the last three chapters. And it currently has 105 367 words (in my document, that is, not on AO3), but more might be added in the editing process. So odds are it'll pass Taming of the Wolf but I honestly can't say for sure. Like, the margin is RIDICULOUS at this point and it's definitely going to be interesting to see where we end up xD

Least Words: Amor gignit amorem (Raven Cycle) I kind of always forget that this fic is only 3 584 words xD Though I will admit I'm being lazy here. I have shorter fics that are parts of fic collections but I REALLY don't feel like trying to compare all those. So yeah. You're getting this soft and fluffy oneshot instead.

I tag whoever wants to do it! :D

[aspiring-holistic-otaku]

Ramble#9

My main focus here is on samurai manga…

top 5 samurai manga read this month:

#5. Kurozuka by Baku Yumemakura on story and Takashi Noguchi on art

This is a story that takes samurai, crosses it with vampires and kind of just illustrates how far those two can go, It’s based on real 2 life guys, maybe even considered legends in Japan with a bridge and statue dedicated to them and everything, Yoshitsune Minamoto and Saito Benkei

Basically, the story starts with them trying to escape some pursuers in the mountains and in doing so they end up unwittingly shacking up with a vampire, a lady vampire,,, and shit just gets crazy from there…

Don’t wanna get too into it cause 1 it’s number 5 and 2 tbh the story wasn’t all that outside the romanticism and dark sides of immortality, but what I can say is that the illustration over the eras that pass and how a dude with a sword, a samurai, changes over the millenia was pretty cool to see…

Pretty rad action, decent enough story wrapped up in just 40 chapters, kind of a mid cast but i loved the concept and its illustration..

For all you anime folks it does have a 12 episode anime but I can’t speak on that adaptation and its quality, differences etc. at all.

#4. Gintama by Hideaki Sorachi

Super popular in hella anime and manga circles, in a lot of top 10s n 5s and If you haven’t heard of it well don’t worry the world’s full of information you don't know so continue to enjoy the journey...

Anyways… Gintama… is a story… that unfortunately I can’t speak on too confidently as I haven’t finished but despite a valiant attempt to in one month while reading a bunch of other stuff, I got to 200sumthn out of 709… but yh…

Gintama is set in futuristic japan but still somehow having a shadow of the edo period mixed in, meant to give a new take on the real life events of japan’s borders opening, foreigners coming in and that essentially leading to the downfall of the samurai, except the foreigners here are literal aliens. The story follows a samurai that previously fought in the war to keep japan alien free who’s now a dead beat, sakata gintoki, a young aspiring samurai whose dad died and left him a dojo in a world where swords are banned, shimura shinpachi, and a pretty much orphaned humanoid teen alien named kagura, all just barely scraping by with doing a bunch of very odd jobs.

VERY HILARIOUS, and so far largely a gag manga but it flips the serious switch very well and what I really like about it is that unlike a lot of other samurai mcs and characters, these guys, especially the central mc of the trio, sakata gintoki, have zero ambition, but constantly stress and fight to the death with swords to rubber chickens to protect their simple way of life. This is exemplified by the words shinpachi’s dying father left him in the very first chapter “Even if there comes a time when you must throw away your sword, never throw away the sword you have resting in your soul.”

I know it builds into an amazing story where almost every character they ever interact with pitches in and I'm probably underselling like crazy but if you want something samurai but samurai like you've never seen, check it out, I hear it’s worth the time and so far that’s proving to be so over the top gags and all.

Anime peps the anime is complete with 201 episodes.

#3. Sengoku Youko by Satoshi Mizukami (mangaka of spirit circle, Lucifer and the biscuit hammer and more)

Technically not a samurai story, leaning more into fantasy but it's in that era and a ronin is in the main cast so bite me and my list ig…

Anyways this is an epic that somehow does an incredible extensive story in 100 chapters and it's not too surprising given the mangaka (seriously check out spirit circle, i’ll never stop talking about it, my favourite manga ever at just 46 chapters and Lucifer at the biscuit hammer which is pretty up there as well, which finally got an anime adaptation this year with 65 chapters).

The story follows a demon named Tama trying to bring peace to the world traveling the land with a human named Jinka who's trying to become a demon and hates humans, but because of his love for demons does whatever Tama tells him to. Further than the usual “what is strength?” question that you could say the way of the sword tends to boil down to, this story looks at the question of “what is a human?”, as the duo run into other humans and demons with their own perspectives and characteristics.

Unfortunately it’s pretty hard to sell it more without getting excited and blabbing it all but brilliant story (admittedly with a little bit of a choppy start), great cast and cast dynamic, dope action, average but fitting art, highly recommended.

Side note, this had one of the coolest, if not THE coolest dragon depictions and fights I've ever seen in manga.

#2. Ichigeki aka one hit kill by Jiro Matsumoto

This was honestly an unexpected banger, as in, my firm philosophy is that by definition the average manga is average so you gotta just be thankful for bangers when they come but even so, especially for how short it was I was blown away.

The basic premise is that some peasants are brought in from the countryside to get some quick training in the sword and used as a throwaway one time hit squad but after they survive and show some promise, they're trained more seriously and sent on increasingly important but increasingly dangerous missions.

What I really love is how this story really highlights the caste system of the time, sounds weird to say but a lot of samurai manga mainly focus on the samurai class and up which I think paints this picture that some people just chose to pick up swords and others didn't, when really for the most part a lot of that was predetermined by birth. There were organized schools that only accepted certain families and it was only in extreme off chance cases that a peasant could even get their hands on a sword much less get formal training.

But yh, story and pacing was great and would even call it phenomenal (especially relative to the length), brilliant cast and cast dynamic, really loved the way the peasants viewed themselves and were viewed by others over time as they became more established, great action and pretty dope art, absolute banger in only 49 chapters, highly recommend.

#1. Kozure Ookami aka Lone wolf and cub by Kazuo Koike on story and Goseki Kojima on art

This is a actually apparently a classic samurai epic and when I say epic I'm not using it loosely just to say it's good which it is, but when I say epic I mean to think along the lines of the Iliad or dante’s inferno.

The story follows a famed samurai, ogami itto, official executioner appointed by the shogun (really big fukn deal), framed, defamed and now turned assassin traveling the land on the path of revenge with his son daigoro.

Now if you're familiar with epics you'll know they're quite long and tbh when I started I was a bit confused like why is this dude out here carrying out assassinations with an infant? and is every chapter just gonna be him killing randoms? do I really need to know the name and history of EVERY prefecture like fr???? (really reminded me of that one chapter of the Iliad where they just listed everybody and their moms from athens)

A little bit of a slow start for me especially as the mc was just super stoic, the ideal samurai if you will but it's through that we see his character and what a true bushi/samurai is. Through any danger and challenge he sees his duty through to the end. Even the decision not to kill in the face of certain death. Wildly enough his kid is not a prop at all as watching his father over time he picks up his habits and has his own adventures.

The action isn't the smoothest but it perfectly captures that old samurai flick vibe, phenomenal aesthetic that becomes even more exceptional in the final few arcs and some of the greatest dialogue around the meaning of Bushido I've ever seen. A small example I'll give is in a duel he has with another fallen samurai, he’s asked what the right thing to do would be when caught in an ambush. Standing by his lord’s side and defending them or leaving his lord’s side to take the initiative in battle, both with equal chances of success.

It's 142 chapters but because almost every chapter, especially early on, is isolated and almost feels like a movie, it can be a bit of a rough read but definitely worth it. (actually started last year and read the second half this month).

hm: tenkaichi, elusive samurai, gantz:e, sengoku strays

top 5 samurai manga before this year

#5. Gamaran by Yousuke Nakamaru

I almost want to say hunter x hunter but for samurai but the only real similarity is the mc trying to find his dad + in this he's trying to kill him cause they basically pulled an itachi and killed his squad.

I love this manga but again number 5 so I'm not trying get too into it plus it's really for the most part a battle tourney, nothing against tourneys but fight fi*azP_Qzght fight gets a litlle tired over the years yk?

Now why this is top5 is that along with really great art I really loved the detail put into the choreography and technique of the fights, as in alot of times sword fights, if they're not basically pokemon battles can be bland despite the contextual meaning and weight of it all. Like it's hard to really differentiate one swordsman from another midfight because outside of their stances they all just look like they're swinging swords pretty much the same way and on occasion shouting random stuff, especially in manga, but maybe that’s just me idk… But gamaran takes the time to illustrate the characteristics of each style, strengths, weaknesses, body motions, etc, to really give almost every fight a real definitive feel

solid story despite what I said about tourneys, great art, pretty dope cast, amazing action and only 194 chapters

There’s also an ongoing sequel called Gamaran: Shura but that only has 25 chapters so far and hasn’t really gotten anywhere yet

4. Sidooh by Tsutomu Takahashi

This story follows two brothers whose mother dies in front of them as kids, leaving them with the last words "It is the fate of the weak to die", giving them an obsession with strength that leads them to claw their way up into the ranks of society

Really great pacing, great story and amazing aesthetic, an interesting art style that's a bit inky for lack of a better word but goes really well with sword strokes and stuff like that + some of the hardest drip I've ever seen on folks in that period and some of the meanest stare downs I’ve ever seen.

It's complete with 269 chapter but only 250 are translated to English, if you've been listening for awhile this is where I usually say fuck the french cause they usually have more manga chapters translated than others in general but hate is lame and all I need to do is step up and translate shit myself if I really want to yk so yh, sorry France, all my hate towards you will solely because of colonialism and especially what you've done to Haiti. fuck France and fuck imperialism

3. Vagabond by tajehiko inoue ( mangaka of slam dunk and real)

This is something I'm always hesitant to mention because it's so good but is almost certainly never going to be completed and there's so much other great works to see but this is a definitive work of art and it'd be criminal to leave it off the list.

This story is based on the life of miyamoto musashi, a legendary swordsman, legendary, as his feats for a self taught peasant are just incredible, in real life this eventually culminated in him founding his own sword school, the Niten ichi Ryu (roughly translated to two heavens as one) but the manga doesn't really get to that bit.

Probably by far the greatest art in this list, Inoue is a master of the craft, and the investigation of the way of the sword and what it means to be unrivaled under heaven via musashi's travels and encounters with other known legends like the yagyu and itto ryu is truly enlightening.

Brilliant characters and character dynamics, stunning art that can never be understated, brilliant dialogue, very engaging fights, just an all round brilliant manga…

Besides the fact that a chapter hasn't come out in about 7yrs… I cry… 327 chapters out and translated if you can handle it…

2. Shigurui aka death frenzy by Takayuki Yamaguchi

This was only 84 chapters but in case the name didn't give it away it gets pretty wild

The story revolves around the participants in the first fight of a deathmatch tournament, one being blind and limp while the other only has one arm. We're shown the events that led to them being chosen to fight and what they continue to swing their swords for in spite of their condition, and both having started out as students of the same sword school.

Lots of tragedy packed in here, lots of gore, very clean art, pretty dope fights, solid cast, and a brilliant story that really illustrates the sometimes unbecoming struggle that is being samurai.

1. Blade of the immortal by Hiroaki Samura

bro... just trust me on this one....

I Know this is about manga but 3 Anime movies I gotta mention are: sword of the stranger, Lupin the IIIrd: The Blood Spray of Goemon Ishikawa and ninja scroll

listen in to hear my top 5 swordsmen

[nostalgia-tblr]

For the gets real fanfic writer ask: 🎈💞💋💌

Have a nice day!

Ooh, I'll have to go see what these are! Apologies in advance for if I accidentally answer the wrong emoji (I've done that before)!

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

It does change, I know/think it has changed. People used to said was a bit poetry-like, and they don't say that any more so it's not just me who thinks that. BUT this is not a bad thing! These days I worry a lot less about individual words but that means I'm able to write longer fics (especially in the past year or so) and I feel less awkward with explaining plots and whatever. I do still overthink the words a bit (maybe? writing is ABOUT overthinking words, isn't it? so it's probably fine?), and I'm sure nobody else cares whether I do this or not but I do stop and spend several minutes going "I need a word that starts with this letter and it has this many syllables and ideally ends in a sound like this one." Because it's a poem! Except not!

I also like alliteration and puns! And using words that kind of rhyme but they also don't! I have also got better at smut in terms of it's now a lot easier for the reader to work out who's put what where due me being less vague and more willing to just call a cunt a cunt. :D

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

The characters! That's the whole point of fanfic for me, as I am not vastly into worldbuilding stuff generally. As a general rule I won't a write a character into a fic if I can't 'hear' their voice in my head. (Possibly wrongly, I tend to consider canon characterisation work 'good' or not based on how quickly I feel like I can replicate the character's voices myself.) And when reading fic the thing most likely to put me off is if the characters don't sound like themselves. They can do things that seem a bit odd for them, or extreme, but they have to sound like themselves while they're doing them.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

I have done this one here earlier :)

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

The next chapter of what I lazily refer to on tumblr as 'The AU' is part 5 but after THAT it's chapter 6 which is where the murdering starts! I have vastly oversold the murdering aspect of this fic (at least in terms of the number of murders) but I do feel like this is where things finally start to kick off. This particular murdery bit is actually what I was referring to here when I said things had gone a bit darker than intended.

It's entirely possible that half the readers will just nope out of the story once the killing starts but that's a them problem not a me problem, and if people can't appreciate a spot of surprisingly-romantic murder then... well they're probably very well-adjusted members of society, now that I think about it?

And also I like the last line of the entire fic. I wrote that bit months ago and I still like it, and I think that's a good sign. The final scene sets out how things stand now that [SPOILER], and various people feel emotions about various things, and then I just sort of... do this face: 😉 Not me myself, obviously, but like. The story. If the story had eyes and a face. (Nobody is allowed to say they're disappointed when they get to that last line, btw. You all have to pretend you think it was really good and a wise choice on my part. You're also not allowed to ask what happens after that, because I'm not letting this thing get any longer than it already has to be.)

[ridearockox]

fic concept: each chapter is a who pairing hooking up for the first time until eventually all of them have slept with each other. i have no idea what the order of pairings would be except that keith would probably end up being the first have slept with all of them (i feel like the first two to get together might be either keith and john or maybe john and pete? john is just irresistible lmao)

This is an EXCELENT CONCEPT and I ended up writing more than needed for it so here, enjoy me rambling about each of them hooking up in as much detail as I can muster without turning this into a full on fic lol

Wanted to say it starts with John and Keith because their connection is pretty much immediate and they are at each other the first opportunity they have to be alone, but it actually starts with John and Pete, early High Numbers years, during some drunk night out where they are talking and breathing just a little too close to each other, and they are too young and dumb to care.

Pete is actually on the edge the whole time because he feels that at some point John is gonna snap out of it, call him a slur and leave. But it never happens. Even when his long fingers fumble with John's belt, he can still feel John's lips burning against his.

John does tell Pete to slow down a little at some point, when his breathing becomes shallow and his heartbeats are so strong that John swears he can hear them. Pete takes a moment to regroup, hands on John's hips, John's hands on his shoulders.

They don't even really fuck on their first time together they just make out and grind against each other. In all honesty they don't even know what they are supposed to do, all they know is that their touching and kissing is making them feel good and that's a good enough reason to just keep going.

John and Keith are next and at this point John is far more knowledgeable about how gay sex works, despite the fact that Pete isn't that much of a sexual person and their encounters of that nature are rare and far between - he knows Pete likes him still though.

Like I mentioned they are at each other the moment they find themselves alone. Probably like the night zero they move in together. John, at first, is kinda keeping it to himself because even though he felt this almost magnetic attraction to Keith the moment he saw him, he also never really sought out other guys besides Pete. Not that his and Pete's relationship is a serious and closed one - they are more friends with benefits if anything - but he feels like he should tell Pete beforehand if he decides to do something with Keith.

But no time to tell Pete because Keith's eager lips are crashing on his before he can even tell what's going on. Keith's tongue slips into his mouth with ease and John almost instinctively wraps an arm around Keith's waist. His waist is a little thicker than Pete's but still thin, and John takes great pleasure in hearing Keith's muffled grunts when his hand slides under Keith's shirt. Every tiny pinch on his pink, hardening nipples is a new groan that's silenced by their still ongoing kiss.

They somehow make it to the bed to fuck and it's just as intense as you would imagine. After all, things have been boiling under the surface for both of them for a while now, so now that they reached a fever pitch they simply can’t hold back.

The only natural progression is for John to be honest with Pete and tell Pete that him and Keith fucked. He makes it as clear as possible that it was a spur of the moment decision between them, but Pete doesn't even look that surprised, which confuses John greatly. It's Pete's turn to make it clear that it was obvious John wanted to fuck Keith. Because Pete could see John eyeing him in a way he knew too well. He just didn't know if the feeling was mutual because Keith is very hard to read.

Meanwhile Roger has been nurturing some really odd feelings about John but he represses those to the back of his mind because the idea of being attracted to a man is absolutely out of question. And not only being attracted to a man, wanting to be fucked by him. No way Roger would let such thoughts take hold of his mind, either due to his internalized prejudice or because he’s too prideful to admit to such a thing.

Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t end with Roger cracking under the pressure of his feelings and spewing out a confession to John. It’s Keith who gets through Roger first, when Keith takes notice of the long, nervous way Roger stares at John when he thinks no one is looking. There’s this longing in his eyes that’s clear as day if anyone would bother to pay attention. And Keith certainly keeps an eye on all things concerning John.

He confronts Roger about his feelings when they find themselves alone, sharing one of Keith’s badly rolled joints. Roger spills the beans almost immediately, not exactly sure why he feels he can talk about this with Keith, but he does. He assumes it’s because Keith is just crazy enough to not judge him too harshly.

Keith learned about John and Pete shortly after his first night with John, and can’t help but laugh. Oh dear, oh dear, John had quite the effect on the men in his life, didn’t he? But Keith doesn’t tell Roger right away about that, he just watches Roger look at him with a confused look because laughing was the last reaction Roger expected. And he’s even more perplexed when Keith plants a firm kiss on his lips and exclaims that he worries too much, hands on his face.

Roger doesn’t know if it’s because he’s buzzed or because his feelings are at an all time high, but Keith’s hands on his face feel nice and he feels his face flush, blue eyes looking away from Keith’s intense stare. There’s a grin from Keith before he gives Roger another kiss.

They don’t fuck but they make out for a bit. Roger is too much of a nervous wreck to do anything else.

The next day Keith naturally tells John all about it the moment they see each other. John is amused but tells Keith that maybe he went too far by making out with Roger, he’s probably having a whole crisis as they speak. And he would be right Roger is at home with A LOT of thoughts in his mind.

Meanwhile Pete has been taking notice of Roger a lot more than usual. He didn’t see it before but damn, Roger sure is… easy on the eyes. And he has an infuriatingly pretty smile. And since John admitted to hooking up with Keith openly, he decides to come forward and tell John that he may or may not be thinking about doing the same with Roger.

John has to hold back the urge to laugh at the whole situation. And is also mentally trying to figure out how to make that work without breaking the group apart. He finally makes the executive decision that they all need to sit down together and sort out their feelings because this is gonna turn into a mess if they don’t.

All of them meet over some booze and feelings start getting thrown around, Keith egging Roger on to just admit to his attraction to John, Pete getting unreasonably upset about Roger being into John but not expressing feelings about hooking up with him (spoilers: Roger is into Pete but his feelings for John are far more overwhelming and make him extra insecure so they are the ones in the forefront of his mind most of the time).

Pete is fucking insulted that Roger doesn’t think he’s intimidating, but Roger can’t lie. Pete can get a little scary when he’s in his creative zone but John’s whole presence is just overwhelming all the time. No one says it out loud but that’s the moment where they all come to the realization they are in this mess because John is just… the way he is. He is just that alluring to the men around him isn’t he?

“So which one of us is gonna fuck the other next?”

Keith speaks up and they look awkwardly around despite clearly holding back laughter because of course Keith would say something like that at a moment like this.

But no one really has an answer to that.

I guess at the end this is not what you had in mind anon because I ended up veering the whole story to a completely different direction there at the end but I think that would be the most I dunno, logical progression of this whole mess. Sure this can be polished further but this is my long ass take on the subject right now!

[beyondxmeasure]

2022: A Year In Review

Thanks for tagging me @larrysballetslippers @thinlinez @brightgolden @kingsofeverything and @larrieblr

I know this has been going around a lot and most people have done it already so I’m not going to tag anyone but if you see this and want to have a go at it please consider yourself tagged! Id love to see what goals you have for the year.

✨ Let Your Heart Be Light 59K WIP | Teen+ | Harry/Louis Louis Tomlinson, a self-proclaimed holiday-hater, loses his job two weeks before Christmas. Broke and desperate to see his family back home in England, he takes the only job left at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. Harry is an unconventional mall Santa, the youngest one they’ve had in years, but with as much holiday spirit as any other seasoned Saint Nick. He’s determined to un-Grinch the new guy in Santa’s Village if it takes until Christmas, then he finds out the devastating reason Louis has lost his Christmas cheer. Will Harry be just the thing Louis needs to help him get his sparkle back?

Featuring Liam as the manager at Santa's Village, Niall as an easy-going Irish elf and Harry's best friend, grumpy Grinch Louis, his best friend Zayn and one matchmaking Mrs. Claus.

A 2022 Advent Fic

✨ Lazy Days and Pancakes For Two 4K | Teen+ | Harry/Louis They haven't seen each other in eighteen days. What better way to spend a much-needed tour break than having a lazy day watching shit TV and having breakfast in bed with your husband.

✨ I Gave Up Hope and Found You Instead 14K | Teen+ | Harry/Louis The entire village warned him not to go. It was an odd-numbered day, after all. Still, the peculiar boy from Eroda set sail and, without knowing it, headed straight into the OFMD universe. While being held captive aboard the pirate ship Revenge, the boy meets a fisherman named Louis.

Tasked by the captain to teach the reluctant boy to fish, Louis struggles to hide his frustration and hold his tongue. As difficult as it is to deal with this clumsy stranger, the skilled fisherman had worse assignments and more unpleasant partners, but none of them with a smile as bright as this peculiar boy had. A moment of unexpected distress catches them off guard, and both soon find out it’s much easier to catch feelings than fish.

OR: Where the Adore You music video ends and the Our Flag Means Death story begins.

✨ I Was Born Like This, Don't Even Gotta Try 2K | E | Harry/Louis Louis and Harry return home after a long day of promo events and cocktail parties. They’re both exhausted, but that doesn’t stop Louis from keeping a promise he made to Harry in the limo earlier that night.

A certain geometric Gucci suit might have played a part in helping Louis’ keep that promise.

Thank you to everyone who's read my writing, shared my fic posts, left kudos or comments. All of your interaction has meant so much! -xx 💙 Cy

2022: A Year In Review (My Annual Writing Self-Evaluation) ...below the cut...

Number of stories posted this year: 4

Word count posted this year: 78,815

Stories with the most… Kudos: I Was Born Like This, Don’t Even Gotta Try

Comment Threads: Let Your Heart Be Light

Bookmarks: Let Your Heart Be Light

Work you are most proud of (and why): Let Your Heart Be Light Because other than the time spent outlining, this fic was started and finished in two months (except for the last 3 chapters, still to come). That’s the fastest I’ve written/edited/posted anything. I’m proud of my ability to let go of my perfectionist tendencies, that usually keep me editing and polishing a fic long after it is written. Due to the nature of the posting schedule (advent fic- 1 chapter a day for December) I didn’t have that luxury. I am still just as proud, if not more so, of this writing in general without having the time to dote over it as much. I also dealt with some heavier topics and am so happy with how it came out. It’s sentimental and sad at times, while still being light and fun. I did exactly what I set out to do and am very proud of the result.

Work you are least proud of (and why): I Gave Up Hope Because I had so many ideas for how I wanted this to go, and in the end, I ran out of time to make it what I wanted it to be. While I love this fic and am still very proud of it for so many reasons… the crossover element, writing something out of my comfort zone (fantasy/pirate fic), to name a couple, I feel like I missed the mark of what I set out to do. But there’s always room to add to it.

A favorite excerpt of your writing: Taken from chapter four of Let Your Heart Be Light

Harry eases back into his chair and waits patiently for Ginny to start again. She goes to fetch a vintage-looking suitcase with a large red bow on it that sits beneath the tree they just decorated that afternoon. Harry had urged her to give it time, allowing her space to grieve, not wanting her to push herself too much. She insisted, saying that’s what he would’ve wanted, determined not to turn Paul’s favorite time of the year into a time for pity and sorrow. The twinkling lights and the smell of fresh pine throughout the parlor made it feel like he wasn’t that far away.

Ginny pushes the cards off to the side and places the weathered case in front of Harry.

“What’s this?” He wonders, running his hands over the distressed leather bindings and tarnished brass buckles.

“It’s for you, darling. Open it.” Ginny cups Harry’s cheek, caressing gently with her thumb, eyes shining with unshed tears as she nods, encouraging him with a tender smile. “Go ahead, dear.”

Ginny sits down cautiously, waiting with bated breath for Harry to flip the buckles open to reveal what’s inside. Harry takes a deep breath, hands shaky with anticipation. He has a pretty good idea of what's inside, and he’s not sure he can keep his composure if he’s right. Slowly, he unlatches first the left then the right side, flick… flick… The hinges creak as he opens it with care. Layers of deep red velvet trimmed with snow white fur lay neatly folded inside, all wrapped with a black leather belt and matching boots adorned with shiny gold buckles.

Harry feels his eyes flood with tears as he lets out a shaky breath. “Ginny, no. I can’t—You can’t give this away. Paul wouldn’t—”

It’s Ginny’s reassuring hand over Harry’s now. “I’m not giving it away, sweetheart. I’m passing it down. Paul asked me to. He wanted you to have it.”

“What?” Harry utters in disbelief. “Why me?”

“It’s your turn, now.”

“What? No! I couldn’t. I don’t even know how—”

“You have the heart for it, dear, and Christmas spirit in abundance. That’s all that really matters.”

“But it’s too soon. For you, I mean, like, we couldn’t—oh my god. Ginny? Do you mean? You want me to—”

She nods enthusiastically, tears falling from her eyes just as much as Harry. “I said yes to him, of course, right away, but buried the thought of it. Because, well, you know—I just couldn’t imagine even thinking of going through with it this year. But the more I think about it, I think the only way I could go through with it again, is if I do it with you. I can’t even think about playing Mrs. Claus to some complete stranger. It just wouldn’t feel right. But you. You, my dear, would be perfect.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely!” Ginny holds out her arms, inviting Harry into her warm embrace. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else filling my Paul’s boots better than you.”

Harry turns the boots over to find the number ten embossed on the bottom of the arch. “They’re my size,” he declares with a smile and a dry laugh, wiping his eyes, still in shock as he looks over the contents of the suitcase in awe. “I guess maybe I could fill Paul’s boots, couldn’t I?”

“You sure can, my dear. Go, try it on!” A glint of delight flashes in her eyes and, with her approval, Harry is up in a flash, eager to get into the legendary red suit. “Oh, here, look at this.” Ginny lifts the jacket, pulling back the inside lapel to reveal a monogram with the letters PA hand sewn inside a red heart border. “See, now he’ll always be with you. Never forgotten.”

Share or describe a favorite review you received: @berzerkshires left the following comment on Let Your Heart Be Light

I have finally got a chance to catch up. And my heavens! The emotions of this story! So wonderfully capturing the ups and downs of the holiday season through all your characters. So heartbreaking and hopeful all at once. So intriguing and festive all together. You’ve got me hanging on the edge of my seat for the true Christmas spirit.

Such kind words… but I’ve also gotten so many other wonderful comments from people who’ve had similar experiences with grief and loss and how my fic helped get them through a difficult time. That, to me, is the ultimate compliment. To be the light in someone’s otherwise dark day is a lovely thing and exactly why I wrote this story.

A time when writing was really, really hard: Completing my Eroda Fic Fest fic was pretty tough. I had a lot of writer’s block and got stuck so many times I really thought I would not complete it on time. Also, the end of this year was tough. I let the year get away from me and while I had it completely outlined for months; I didn’t start writing my Advent fic until November. It became a scramble to complete it on time to be ready for December 1st, which didn’t happen. I could only get about half of the chapters written ahead, and the rest had to be written on the fly the day before or day-of posting. Adding to that, the emotional toll of my grandmother losing her battle with Alzheimer’s. All that being said, I am incredibly proud of myself for pushing through. While I still have the last three chapters to post, I wrote and posted 60K words in less than two months, and it’s some of my favorite work I’ve written thus far.

How did you grow as a writer this year?: While I didn’t post as much on Ao3 as in previous years or that I might have set out to do, I wrote quite a lot. I completed 4 fics but also made a lot of genuine progress with a few WIPs that were holdouts from last year. I also listened to myself a lot more—only writing when I really wanted to, not over-committing to too many fic fests or holding myself to unreachable expectations. I enjoyed writing a lot more without all the pressure I usually put on myself. I don't know if I'd call this growth, but I hit a pretty cool milestone... Twisted Fate reached 500 kudos! ❤️ That's a first for me. I'm still shocked at how popular that one is.

How do you hope to grow next year?: I'd like to step out of my comfort zone and try podficcing. I’ve been tossing around the idea to turn a fic or two of mine into one. So we shall see. Otherwise I have small goals… complete the WIPs I've been dragging my feet on, stay consistent with my writing and get better at interacting with my mutuals/responding to tags, etc...

Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year?: Yes! A lot of my real life made its way into Let Your Heart Be Light. A reimagining of a friend’s home break-in became a major plot point in the story. I also used my Nana as an inspiration for the characters of Ginny and Louis Nan. A few of my own memories from Christmases past made their way into the fic as well.

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers?: I don’t have much wisdom to impart but from my experience this past year of slowing down and just writing at my own pace more I would say forget about the pressure from outside sources, or even your own self-imposed pressures and just write… for the fun of it, for the escape, for the release… whatever. Just write. Don’t let anything hold you back. Whether you think you’re not good enough, experienced enough, fast enough, insert ___ enough. You improve the more you do it. Step out of your comfort zone, challenge yourself… but always write for yourself first, not for other readers, deadlines or anything else. If you’re writing something you enjoy, others will enjoy it too and if they don’t, then fuck ‘em.

Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year?: I’m dying to finish (fxckn finally!) the second part to my Arcades & Lemonade fic… follow up to I Know You Rider. It’s been in the works for far too long, was supposed to be my Big Bang fic last year, but it keeps getting pushed to the back burner for various reasons. Also, my bootcamp/fitness instructor Harry fic--- Also been a drawn out WIP for some time. A Twisted Fate epilogue and few others. I’ve also got my outline started for my 2023 advent fic, but first things first, I need to finish the last three chapters for this year’s advent fic. That should keep me busy enough, but I’m sure I will come up with some other new ideas that will derail me along the way, per usual! LOL. The rest of my goals for 2023 are here...

[the-firebird69]

He's a horrible horrible people they turn on her son every few milliseconds bothering him in a sun turns back and says you asked me to do the job relentlessly and now I'm doing the job and I can't but help recognize that you're threatening me and you end up getting hurt. All of the invasion Army is gone the numbers are changing quite rapidly and these are starting to panic and they're getting grabbed here quite rapidly there's too many way too many they're trying to infiltrate using the numbers here so we came down with Max and others and big numbers and we are taking them out of here all of them. Around the Earth the number was 0.7% only a few moments ago about an hour. Right now it's more like 0.01 which is one more lock for every 10,000 regular persons. And it's decreasing it's decreasing food because of the last in line song and the fact that everybody is evacuating and you don't want to be stuck there and it is going on right now. There's other things occurring the max are noticing tons and tons of things that you're doing wrong almost everything that you touched was done wrong but they mean criminal actions and they are noting it too all over the world that your actions are criminal on the level that's unacceptable. And they are sending out teams to go after you Non-Stop and after ones that are hiding then really you're hiding a little enclaves and being found in gas then pulled out and bunkers are emptied and it won't take long before you're gone. We have things to say to you but we're going to say it to you personally and he has things to say but not much because he thinks that you're so dumb it's not worth talking to you that's what he says she says it too they're really stupid I don't know if they remember anything you know you remember some stuff but yeah you're very dumb. Here in Florida the percent has fallen from 1% to about 5%, so one out of every 500 persons is a warlock. And that's very bad and very low odds and your non-claves and they're getting you now. The evacuation is continuing huge numbers are leaving the ships in the midwest are full of people the cities all over the world on the shores are full and they'll be empty in a matter of hours and you will be gone to the big islands and that's it and then your idiots get super powers or something and they're running around trying to threaten for survival and they may have to do a few things most of which we need and Mac is doing stuff using you and that's how it's going along in the future there's no great force of you anymore except on the islands which right now is hovering at 4.9% and holding even as people are important and it's due to the war with the warlock link Tommy f

Thor Freya

Is sometimes hard to get through to like you are but really you talk to me as soon as you can but he's busy and it's been ruling for a long time and you saw it and we're going to make it this is going to be a chapter will not forget about how to let horse go crazy is not when it's going to happen

Hera

Zues

It's kind of a runaway trade there so we can't let it happen it's true and we can't let match become one so we are on it now

Olympus

[valeriele3]

Distorted Party Theory Part 2

As always..The fanfic/series I'm making these theories from is made by @honeybeewhereartthee <3

Note: I won't say that much in this part and it's mostly just the decoded ALT texts. I might edit this tomorrow and add some of my thoughts. This is also a bit disorganized..

The following is from Distorted Party Chapter/Part 3

We will start off with these ALT texts

The first picture a.k.a the left one is most likely Aira talking. Why? Because of the word "flower" and "mad" (Mostly the flower for me though)

Aira calls MC his "flower" and we see him do that multiple times as the Mad Rabbit

Second picture. I'm not sure who it is but I'm just going with Aira again :D

In this chapter of Distorted Party we see the Rules of the Labyrinth mentioned again a.k.a the one where you can't mention/say someone's name

And now the fun part!!

On the glitched gif there's an ALT text with binary numbers! I loveee solving these things ever since I learned how to thanks to that one ff in wattpad I read

Note: There might be some error with my "decoding" since a lot of numbers side by side f up my eyes

"who is truly mad, you me or him?"

After that you will see the line Pseudo stops on his words as he saw a black cat with red eyes hopping from a small portal from another multiverse. this black cat is Ritsu from the MDD au

Not long after another glitched gif shows up with this

"I cannot believe he did that. Oh wait I'll do it too. Tehee"

Next ALT text isn't a binary (Not that much thoughts on this one and on who it is. Again, maybe it's Aira? Or it could be someone else entirely..I can't recall on who calls MC darling unfortunately..)

..................................................

Judging by the words of our beloved Ritsu the "Mad hatter"(Kohaku) is a dangerous person

..................................................

The last ALT text is this

"Don't believe his lies. his much of a liar like you are" not so fun fact: Helter Spider started playing when I was decoding this part :D I am bit offended sir. Wdym a liar??? >:(

But talking seriously..I'm not exactly sure on who is talking in these binary numbers. Maybe Aira?

Distorted Party Chapter/Part 4

I'm going to take a guess that in these pictures..It's Kohaku speaking because of the words "Gamble" and "ya" (since Kohaku has like an accent and the only other person who kinda speaks like him is Mika who almost never appears in all the different au's except for a short bit in MDD)

what is it with Crazy:B songs playing lmao its now Risky Venus full ver.

....................................................................

<--there's no end-- there's no beginning-- only when you become sick of this game-->

I'm not sure what to make of this one since it seems pretty straightforward with what it means

When he went to search for honey to be able to use another ability of alternative doll self, which made him able to turn honey into any form of weapon he want.  This ability is referring to the Kohaku (Probably) in MDD. If my memory is correct he asked MDD MC if MC wanted to see his abilities the Crazy:B or Double Face abilty in one of the chapters

In this part/chapter of Distorted Party the CH prequel Chapter 14 is connected said by the author

The best example I could find in Distorted Party being connected to CH prequel ch 14 is this line -> "I have seen you in my dream a couple of nights ago. You with ai. It was odd. So I have to look around, I don't know what part of the timeline you are in currently. Since I cannot read your fate..."

Oh and I believe this part deserves to appear here bc why not? <3

"Omae ... " 

"Omae? Like you?  Or omae...

""Omae wa mou shinderu."" 

Also can we appreciate that Kohaku chose Mad Hatter for the drip? 👏👏

From what I noticed..It seems like Distorted Party part 3 focused on Aira kinda and Distorted Party Part 4 focused on Kohaku!

Oh, and we also see Kohaku getting/unlocking a secret color outfit so yayy!

That's basically it! My brain isn't working rn and I still haven't reviewed for my exam tomorrow soo..Byeeee see you next time on..FANFIC THEORY

Sorry for the delay on this one! I completely forgot to eat and I got forced to eat dinner lmao

[inthememetime]

Cleaning the Gravestones- Chapter 12

Read on AO3 here!

All chapters except 11 (for NSFW ban reasons) are on Tumblr....somewhere. Can't find em, but they're here. They're tagged #Cleaning the Gravestones #Bad News

Taglist: @mochazocha @murderandjam @reading-wanderer , and something about a horse? Just hmu if you'd like to be tagged!

Chapter under the cut!

Harriet fought waking up. She was warm, being snuggled tightly, and sore in all the right places. The train outside finished blowing its horn and continued along the track, growing progressively quieter, and she sighed in relief, slowly dozing off again.

The next time she came to from her light doze, it was to the neighbors' dog barking. Vlad grumbled behind her and buried his face in her hair. "How mad would you be if I turned 6A in for keeping dogs?" He asked in a sleep-rough voice. Nice.

She yawned and rolled over so her face was buried in his neck. It was covered in little bite marks and bruises. "She'd report you for growing that weed you think I don't know about, and you'd end up in jail, so pretty mad."

He made a low, thoughtful noise when she pressed down on one of those marks curiously. "You like that?"

"Mm-hmm," he confirmed and closed those blue eyes again.

Harriet paused her exploration in favor of tugging up the blankets again. Today was a good day to sleep in; it was cold and rainy outside, and warm and cozy here. Plenty of time to play around later.

Of course, that meant the phone rang again just minutes after she dozed off again. She huffed a sigh and gently squirmed out from under his arm. Vlad grumbled but let her up. "Hungry?" He rasped sleepily, struggling into his boxers from last night.

"Mmhmm. Pancakes?" She asked hopefully and tugged an old uni sweatshirt over her head. Pancakes, oddly enough, were one of two things he could actually cook. Even more odd, they beat every restraunt's she'd been in. 

He kissed her cheek, nice enough not to mention both of them probably had the worst morning breath ever and ambled off.

She winced at the scratches and bruising on his back and shoulders. "Sorry about that."

She poked one of the bruises, expecting a pained hiss, and was slightly thrown by the low groan. Notably, it did not sound pained. "Let me eat something and I'm all yours," he promised.

"Aoughtut?" He asked through a yawn. 3 years of friendship let her translate that to 'about what'.

She flushed. "Sounds good," she agreed and went to the phone before she could distract either of them further. She really was hungry.

The two calls from last night and one from this morning had the same number, but no voicemail. Curious, she called it back. "Hello?"

"Hi, I received a few calls from this number?"

"Hi, Harriet Chin?" Asked a woman.

"This is she. Who am I speaking with?"

"This is Maddie Walker! You know, from college?"

-

This is how it was with Harriet. And Vlad, had he been entirely human, might have thought her thoughts disturbing. Or heart-warming. It was hard to say.

Her father wanted a son. He got Kim. 2 years later, he got Harriet. Two years after that, he got Amy. And finally Michael.

Kim was pretty. She was smart. And most importantly of all when it came to their father, she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Then, when Harriet was 2, Amy came around. At first- probably until she was 6 or so, her father had no favorites. They were all girls, all equally disappointing to him. But then came Michael.

By the time Kim entered middle school, there was a strict hierarchy. Michael was most important. Then Kim, then Harriet, then Amy. Only, Amy was quiet and demure while Harriet questioned everything, and that changed.

Michael was still most important. Then Kim. Then Amy. Harriet was an afterthought to everyone except her grandmother.

This continued in school when Kim came into her figure early and Harriet and Amy were still covered in baby fat. And then when it turned out Michael and Amy were almost geniuses, while Harriet and Kim were somewhere between normal and above average.

But Kim had her looks, at least, and the ability to manipulate gossip like nobody's business. Harriet had a nose for figuring out things people wanted to hide.

Nobody liked that.

Kim got boyfriends and made a game out of stealing Harriet's. Amy started doing it too.

Then she turned 18, cut her family off, and went to college. And it was fantastic. For the first time, there was no Kim, Amy, or Michael to compare her to! She got and kept friends- and boyfriends- on her own merits. Then Amy decided the University of Wisconsin was the place for her, too.

So she started hanging out with a completely different group of people. Nerds, mostly, and they loved getting questions about what they were doing and why, and invited her to D&D games, and Star Wars showings in the auditorium because even though she was a journalism major, she showed enough interest and, to be honest, was frequently the only girl.

1980s STEM majors were sadly lacking in the lady department. And then she met Maddie. It was mostly in the vaguely insulting, sexist way of 'hey, you'll like her, she's a girl too'! But she did- sort of.

Maddie was focused on her education and work, which Harriet could appreciate, and her friends Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton. Which hey- Jack was way too loud for her, but neither were bad people.

And that could've been it. But Harriet's inability to investigate things showed her something she didn't like. Maddie? Was playing Jack and Vlad against each other. Jack didn't agree? Get all up on Vlad, bat those pretty purple eyes, and suddenly the boys were jumping over each other to do what she wanted. It worked the other way, too.

All that was to say: Harriet knew how comfortable it was to fall into a pattern of being second fiddle and letting oneself be used and manipulated. And she had seen Vlad be the victim of it- once he was no longer useful, he was literally left for dead.

Harriet thought she was over that- over the helpless rage of watching someone she loved mourn his friends and come to the realization they were never coming back. Evidently, she thought wrong.

And so Harriet, without saying another word, hung up the phone.

-

"Who was it?" Vlad asked from the stove.

She went in, mostly to prevent herself from calling Maddie back and screaming, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "The worst kind of scammer."

"Yeah?"

"Take everything, leave you with nothing," she confirmed. "What's a girl gotta do for some pancakes?"

Vlad laughed, and poured in the batter for the next one. "Gimme 10 minutes?"

"I'll make coffee," she agreed and planted a kiss on his shoulder. He freed a hand to squeeze hers briefly.

And if that was the last she heard of Maddie Walker, she'd be a happy woman.