#so i HAD to ask it was WORTH asking myself. unless they decide to swap arakawa's eng VA but w/e its not overly important

[todayisafridaynight]

NOOOO RIGHT 'CAUSE LIKE... the way the Arakawa Family specialize in faking deaths already, I'm sure Jo was so on top of everything. And who better to walk Masato through it right... flight's the perfect time to get started if it's gonna take like fourteen hours...

BUT YES. YEAH. Like The Day Of he's just paralyzed with worry and caught between wanting to do something and not wanting to go against Aoki... maybe at most he chances calling Arakawa telling him to be careful, because that's not too conspicuous given his role in the dissolution, but Arakawa just gives him the old I'll Be Fine Worry About Yourself... and, you know, why shouldn't he; they've always had their enemies and he's Arakawa the Assassin, he can handle himself... he can let himself have that fleeting hope, but deep down... and THEN he finds out and has to act like he didn't mean anything to him and has to go back to his duties like nothing happened... OUGH

Can I just say. Literally such an insane fucking series of scenes in Coin Locker Baby. Because you get Jo's despondence when he's saying he might have killed Arakawa--he's being a bitch to provoke Ichiban into a fight, but it's also an admission his inaction played a part, isn't it... and then you get him expressing that he's familiar with Ichiban's need to protect Arakawa... and then you get the sheer desperation and insistence in his voice when he says he could never kill him... and then you get--I'm not totally sure how clear it is in English--but you get him actively saying his feelings go deeper than Ichiban's without really explaining how... and then you get the tinge of fondness when he's thinking back on the old days when Arakawa lived up to his name... Like. Why Did They Do That. Any Of That.

ALSO. GOD. I've gotten so much shit the past couple days because I said I want to lock Jo, Kume, and Tendo in a room for five minutes For My Entertainment. Reading those tags felt like coming home honestly 😭 Like, even Ichi was ready to kill someone over Arakawa, and Jo was out here threatening to disembowel people [in the dub]. And I Think They Should Be Allowed To. As A Treat. So FOR REAL the biggest "I'm so glad we get to talk" 😭😭😭

On that note genuinely so funny that I took an extra ten minutes re-rendering the video because I forgot to put the "flashback" part in Arakawa's subtitles at first but then nobody read it 😭

But it's also something I've been mulling over because I'm delusional. Getting actors as high-profile as Nakai and Takei back for just A Flashback is kinda crazy to me because Arakawa and Jo's screen-time took up a full four percent of the entire game [over ten percent of the cutscenes] originally. But then if it's multiple flashbacks equivalent to that... what exactly is going on here that the past is so intertwined...

And Because My Brain Is Evil there is the fact that technically speaking, Yokoyama only said that line was from a flashback, and specified Arakawa wouldn't be appearing in the main story. Now of course a normal person would interpret that as him reassuring the audience he won't appear in any present-day scenes, but part of me was like. Oh So A Side Story Is On The Table [<- it's not it's fucking not it will not be in a million years]

JUST. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS COOKING WHY IS THE KITCHEN DOOR CLOSED WHY ARE THE WINDOWS BLACKED OUT

ANYWAYS that's enough from me for today I am [as always] glad you enjoyed One Missed Call and Kyouen, ABSOLUTE bangers

YAYA THATS WHAT IM SAYIN YOU GET IT. UNSURPRISINGLY BUT YOU GET IT ಥ▽ಥ

no but thats what i MEAN like i already was jokin with myself like 'jo and arakawa probably had A Thing right lmao' BUT THEN THE WAY JO TALKED BOUT ARAKAWA AND OBVI THE GENERAL FACT HE COULDNT KILL HIM REALLY JUST MADE ME (。・∀・??) AND REAALLLY LOOK AT EM CLOSER THE SECOND TIME AROUND like genuinely for what. it will fuck me up until i'm dead and gone SOOO unnecessary and yet they did it..

wack that people wouldnt want to see kume and tendo stuck in a room with jo like. from what i know everyone is a part of the We Hate Kume gang so. cmon. kume will be shredded into candy floss within five minutes. it'll be fun (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)

OK BUT NAKAI AND TSUTSUMI'S STATUS WAS A BIG REASON WHY I DIDNT THINK ARAKAWA NOR JO WOULD BE BACK FOR LAD8 THAT'S SO VALID TO CONSIDER THAT its that idea that just has me especially wondering what the plan is. im not expecting them to have MAJOR parts (or in arakawa's case too many flashback segments) but they MUST have a SUBSTANTIAL amount to warrant bringing them back right..

[morvantmortuary]

12, 56, or 67 for the ask prompts - whichever of these you find most inspired by for our Maxi 🖤

12: "I'll love you til my breathing stops"

56: "I am not myself anymore, I'm yours"

67: "You're so perfect, why do you want me?"

hi bee! :’D sorry I’m an idiot! 🖤

I’ll be honest, this one is definitely more… personal than I intended. I started writing it when I was really Going Through It w/r/t some depression stuff, a minor existential crisis where I wondered if it was worth staying in my program, dealing with the fact that my closest friends were also going through it and nothing I said seemed to help, just a whole slew of stuff that left me feeling rock bottom.

another part of it, I think, is that I have this weird thing where even though these were yandere prompts, I just… had this thing where I couldn’t just write the Reader hearing them? like, I thought for even someone like Maxi, who worships the ground his reader walks on, to out and say some of these things, I had to like - justify them somehow. Like I couldn’t hear them unless I was emotionally bleeding out, almost. maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, or something else I need to go to therapy about idk

and then once I got so far in, I was like “rae wtf this is such a fucking bummer, no one is gonna want to read this,” and so for a while I thought about starting over again just for something more fun

but, eventually, I reread this piece again, and decided that even if it’s kind of a sad start, maybe someone else could use something for the worst kind of days. I meant to post this on Yule, bc “longest night of the year” and all, but we all know how I am with doing anything remotely on time :’D

so, if anyone else is maybe having a hard time on this xmas eve, I hope maybe this is a small something to help

warnings for some really vicious self-talk on the part of the Reader, v v v brief discussion of su!cidal thoughts (like I said, I was going through it), descriptions of an anxiety attack, Maxi being a little too happy to murder anyone who hurt you, Maxi and his Reader swearing their deaths to each other, descriptions of necromancy, patricide, etc.

merry xmas, and rora and hector both have pieces coming too - this was just the one that got finished first 🖤 thanks for being kind enough to request, and I’m sorry again it took so long! I hope it’s okay 🖤

it hurts because you’re alive

(maxi morvant x gn!reader)

It wasn’t often you still had to contend with the voice from the darkest part of your brain. The one that had stalked you through the left-hand mirrors from the Masquerade, the one that some demonic presence - essence? Whatever - imitated in Maxi’s own mouth when it was trying to convince you to let yourself lay down and be prey. Since you’d been building yourself a pleasant life in Greymoon, one that you were more than happy to share with the man who’d stolen your heart, it had retreated back to whatever noxious neural fold it called home.

That didn’t mean there weren’t hard nights. Ones where it found you left vulnerable by an insomnia that refused to abate.

This was one of them.

You weren’t sure what had set it off, really: maybe it was the fact that Murphy’s Law had been in full effect at work, and nothing you tried had been enough to turn the day around. Maybe it was the phone call with your mom after, where more than one she’d suggested (albeit gently) that despite all the progress towards feeling like yourself again you’d made since moving here, there was still more you could be doing. Maybe it was the texts you’d swapped with Pavi that afternoon, where she rehashed the latest fight she’d had with a girlfriend she would’ve readily called awful if she’d been yours, Em’s, or Laurie’s. As carefully as you’d tried to point out that Pavi seemed to accept things for herself that she would’ve found intolerable for any of her friends, the two of you had just gone in circles, with Pavi insisting that she was probably just being biased in her recounting of the argument and you nearly pleading with her to consider how she’d feel if anyone else she loved was being treated the same way. When this proved fruitless, you’d eventually stopped and just let your friend vent until she felt better. It was the least you could do.

But long after you’d said goodnight, you were still sitting cross-legged on the end of your bed, lost in thought as you worried the skin on your lower lip with your teeth. After years of living with your specific brain curses, your usual self-soothing method was straightening up your house while listening to music as loud as you could stand it on your headphones; the idea being that bouncing between tasks with something drowning out the Voice would eventually convince it to give up and let you focus on anything else. But tonight, that had only left you more restless than usual. Your brief attempt to sleep had just ended in you plugging your string of fairy lights back in and returning to your playlist, trying to ward off your internal darkness with external stimuli.

How did you think you would be enough?

You trapped a piece of skin between your teeth, and bit down.

No, really. How did you possibly think anything you had to offer, to any of them, would be enough?

“It’s not about me,” you muttered aloud. “It was just a bad day. Shit happens. I’ll live, it’s fine.”

Your teeth, however, bit down once again on the spot. You could just taste the faintest trace of blood.

And now you’re talking to yourself. Just like old times.

Fuck off, you thought instead, but the Voice just seemed to crow in the fact that it’d made you change.

Oh, you little idiot. Just as spineless as you’ve always been. Your job knows that, you know - you weren’t smart enough or quick enough to improvise today. They all saw you fail. You let everyone down. Again.

This is unhelpful. You knew this was unhelpful. This was just wallowing. Everyone had bad days. This would pass. You would be fine.

…Right?

Your progress is not enough for your mother. She knows you can do more, do better. Be more. You can dress up laziness as contentment all you like, it’s still obvious to her. She must be so disappointed in what you turned out to be.

Your teeth kept sawing at the skin, and you winced at the sting of its separation from raw flesh, even as the taste of blood spread across your tongue.

Your love is not enough for your friend. It doesn’t matter how ferociously you care for her - it isn’t ever going to outweigh the hurt she’s willing to endure for even a taste of someone else’s. Someone real.

Stop, you begged yourself. You knew what came next.

How long until that ‘soulmate’ of yours sees all this and realizes his mistake?

You didn’t hear yourself whimper at this over the bass in your ears, the volume hurting now more than helping. You made no move to turn it down.

I’m curious. You suck at math, but make me laugh with an attempt: how long, exactly, do you think it will take for him to realize you weren’t worth the pain he went through? That he’s scarred, now, for nothing that could actually matter?

Your teeth picked a new spot and bit, but the tears were already there.

How long do you think you have until he resents you for your weaknesses? For everything you couldn’t be?

How long until even a creature of the utmost darkness finds you, and your broken little brain and heart, intolerable?

No, you pushed back. He’s not that. He isn’t, even with what he did. Does. He could never be. He’s good, his heart is good, despite everything that tried to force him to be otherwise. 

Fine, the voice amended. Then how long until he gets restless because he’s stuck with a burden like you? Because you could never amount to more than everything you are that no one should ever have to deal with, much less love?

You blinked, feeling your breath begin to shake as something warm slid down your face. 

There we go, the voice purred. You aren’t completely stupid after all. Gold star for effort.

You tried to force yourself to pick up your hands and wipe your face. Try to stem the flow of tears that turned your eyeliner into so much grime under your eyes, something else that added to the pathetic ineptness of your mien.

But they sat, listless and useless, on your thighs that took up too much room.

You can still exit gracefully, you know. …Well. As gracefully as possible for you. You owe everyone that much.

This was a lie. You knew, on some level, this was a lie. But it felt like the conscious You was locked at the back of your brain, kicking uselessly as this creature that seemed to slither and circle around the rest of your skull - and squeeze.

Your boyfriend’s a mortician, for crying out loud. He’ll at least make you look decent so you’re not a total embarrassment to anyone. Your mom won’t even have to clean up the mess when they find it.

…You had to admit. This made a certain, pragmatic amount of sense. It was tidy. Convenient.

Easier, perhaps, than the mortifying alternative of staying. Of letting anyone look too close.

He might even think one of your friends at the service is cute. Two birds, one stone. Provided any show up, of course.

That’s fair, you figured, this would be fairly short notice. People might still have to work, or have other plans, and you couldn’t expect people to drop everything for—

You let out a small shriek as you felt a chilled hand settle on your shoulder, nearly falling off your bed as you pushed hard away from the direction of your door.

When you just caught yourself on the edge of your mattress, you whipped around to see Maxi standing there, flattening himself as best he could against the doorframe and showing you his palms with an equally startled expression.

He mouthed something at you, and you could only blink, still not quite firing on all cylinders. He pointed to his own ear, looking concerned, and you jumped, quickly pulling your earbuds out.

“Sorry,” you managed. “Didn’t hear you come in.” You winced as you could hear your own voice crack, and before you could clear your throat, Maxi’s face changed.

“Hey now.” In one fluid motion, he crossed the space between you and fell to a knee where you perched at the end of your bed, peering up into your face with a familiar, scalpel-sharp scrutiny. “You okay, gorgeous?”

You looked away, trying to avoid his searching gaze, but he caught your jaw gently, guiding you by his fingertips at your chin to look at him again.

He made a small noise of alarm in his throat when you faced him, and when you finally met his eyes, he looked stricken. “Darlin’, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he murmured. His fingers traced over the tracks of your tears, wiping them away. He turned his hand slightly to examine his own fingertips, looking increasingly worried, before he moved closer to your knees to look up into your eyes. “Did someone upset you?” 

For the most part, he still sounded like your partner - sweet, thoughtful, a habitual worrier - but you could hear the edge of something else creeping into his question. Something darker, lurking at the back of his own skull.

But how could you explain? If you told him what was going on - what was really happening - wouldn’t that just prove your inner darkness right? That you were a burden, demanding of care?

You kicked yourself internally, feeling guiltier now. Maxi already had to deal with a lot at his job, people grieving real losses. Why should he have to come home to even more crying from you, who was just wallowing in their own despair?

“Hey,” he urged again, softer, snapping you back to reality. He reached up, gently intertwining his fingers with yours where your hands still sat on your lap. “Angel, c’mon. You’re scarin’ me a little here. Tell me what’s goin’ on, okay? Let me help. Do I need to have words with someone?” He traced his thumbs across the back of your hands, trying to soothe you - but you fixated on the way he subconsciously rolled his shoulder, the one you had marked on that dark Halloween in the cemetery.

For some reason, it was that gesture - so innocuous, yet obvious in how you seemed to inflict yourself on him, on everyone - that finally broke the dam between your sinking heart and the world outside. The spiral had you fully in its grasp, and there was no getting out.

Your eyes blurred over as you looked resolutely down, feeling tears escaping their bounds faster than you could hold them back. A few of them made splattered constellations on the skin of your legs, just adjacent to where Maxi’s hands where intertwined with yours. You bit down on your lip, trying to muffle the sob that had been building for what felt like the entire evening, but the smallest of sounds still managed to wriggle its way out around your teeth.

Maxi let go of your hands abruptly, and you couldn’t blame him for his withdrawal - until the cold clutch of them encircled your face, guiding your head gently upwards to meet his eyes.

What you found waiting for you was the color of blood from deep in the body, seeming to burn of their own accord in the dim of your room. He was practically nose to nose with you, staring at you over the tops of his glasses with a look like a knife’s edge. “Give me a name,” he said, so soft it was barely more than a whisper. His fingers stroked your skin, but his grip was firm. “And they won’t see sunrise. I promise.” He leaned forward to close the distance between you, kissing gently at one of the tracks of your tears - but you still felt the brief, hot touch of the tip of his tongue to the spot. “Let me take care of it for you, please.”

You sniffled, trying to rescue some shred of composure. “It’s n-nobody. Really.”

“Oh, angel,” Maxi cooed, pulling just slightly back. He traced a new trail down your cheek with his thumb, hovering close to you. “You don’t have to defend anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Whatever it was, whatever they said to cause - this,” his hand flipped to stroke your skin with a knuckle. “It’s justified for me.” He kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes again. 

You shook your head as the last of your composure slipped through your grip. “It’s not even a-anybody’s fault,” you managed around the lump in your throat. “I s-swear, it’s just…” You swallowed hard, but the ache just caused you to stop. “It’s just my fucking broken-ass brain.”

“…It’s what now?” You could practically hear the record scratch in Maxi’s brain as the murder dropped out of his expression entirely, leaving him blinking as the glimmering red seemed to cool like the last embers of a campfire.

You hurriedly wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “It’s nothing, I told you,” you mumbled. “I’m just fucking sad again over some stupid shit that doesn’t m-matter, like always,” you tried to inhale, but your breath shook too hard for you to get any relief. “And I c-can’t change it—“

Your heart was thundering in your ears, washing out all other sound. You were drowning. 

“B-because I’m not g-good at making anything better, for anyone—“

Your skin was too hot. You felt seasick. This was really it, wasn’t it. The moment that you finally tipped your hand and showed how much of a wreck you really were inside, and he would make the only logical decision. One you could never blame him for, really, because it was inevitable.

It fell out of your mouth in a rush, insensate almost to your own ears: “And I’m just going to be like this forever, and you’re going to get sick of me and leave, and why shouldn’t you, when I can’t even keep my shit together and just be a n-normal fucking functional—“

You were aware of the words dying on your lips, the sudden movement causing the ache to leave your lungs in an exhale, but you weren’t sure of the cause.

You also weren’t quite sure why the room shifted, or why you were suddenly staring up at your ceiling rather than down at your feet, but you were conscious of being cocooned in the essence of your partner: the faintest hint of embalming fluid, something like wood polish, the cologne he put on this morning, and the touch of laundry detergent that had started to smell like home to you.

You realized he’d taken you both to your mattress in a near-tackle, cradling you before you could realize what was happening. You were caged in his arms now, laying sideways next to him with your hands pressed against his chest between the pair of you. The pressure you felt around your torso was him squeezing like he was trying to keep you from coming apart at your ribs. 

Like you were something fragile.

It took you a moment to realize further that his lips were against your hair, and the hiss you heard was him shushing the tiny, cracking sobs that were finding their way piecemeal out of your chest.

“No, baby, I’m always gonna be yours,” Maxi murmured into your hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re my life, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He kissed your head like he was trying to kiss your skull itself. “Mine’s broke too. It’s okay.”

You half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t— you shouldn’t have to—“

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Maxi insisted, somehow managing to hug you tighter without bruising your sides. “You’re mine. I won’t ever go somewhere without you.”

“But I’m a mess,” you blurted wetly against his vest, your chest kicking like a horse from the inside. “I’m such a mess, Maxi, I’m gonna wear you out. I wear everyone out, you don’t understand.”

Maxi shifted so instead of keeping you against his chest, he was eye-level with you, squeezing your shoulders in his hands as his glasses were somewhat crooked against your pillow. “Darlin’, I know everything feels wrong right now, and your brain’s not fightin’ fair,” he said softly, his eyes wide as he searched yours. “But I think your sense of scale is a little bit… skewed, here.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not tryin’ to make light of anything, but I think I have a little more reason to be worried about somethin’ like that.”

Your heart was racing in your chest like you were trying to drive with no way to steer. “I don’t wanna make you tired of me,” you managed, not entirely sure if you were making sense anymore. “I don’t want to make your mark hurt anymore, I don’t want you to come home from a long day to me being a drain, I don’t want you to realize you got a bad deal.”

“Angel,” Maxi soothed, running a hand over your hair. “You’re not thinkin’ straight. That’s not somethin’ I would think about you, ever. You’re talkin’ to the serial killer here, remember?” he added, with a laugh that sounded more nervous than anything. “You’re the one who got more than you signed up for.”

“You had to go through that whole thing with your dad, and They Who Decide,” you went on, as if he’d proved your point. “You wouldn’t have had to if I wasn’t here. You wouldn’t have had to get hurt, or get possessed, or—“

“For you, I’d do it all again tomorrow,” Maxi said, his voice soft. “In a heartbeat. I don’t care.”

You shook your head, not sure how you couldn’t make him see what was right in front of his eyes. “I’m not worth that, Maxi, that’s what I’m trying to tell you now rather than you waste more time.”

“And I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Maxi argued, his eyes plaintive. “That I don’t care what that demon in your head says, baby. I got one too,” he insisted, loosening an arm so he could gesture at his temple. “The real one and the one that comes from growin’ up thinkin’ I’m dead already, and nothin’ would ever change that. You have no idea how many times a day I wish to god,” he smiled, and it was strained. “I wish I could go back, somehow, and tell me when I was livin’ through the worst parts — every dark basement, every broken body, every night feelin’ absolutely fuckin’ inhuman — that we were gonna find you. That all this bullshit was gonna turn out to be worth it. All the years of feelin’ like I couldn’t tell anyone the truth, and we survived.”

Your shoulders bucked slightly as you fought your sobs. “I don’t want to let you down. I’m so scared of disappointing you, you don’t understand—“

Maxi took your face in his hands again, his gaze pleading. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, and you could hear him fighting to keep his voice steady. “You don’t have to be the one that’s afraid of that. You could never disappoint me in a way that matters. I’d swear it to you on our future tomb. I need you to listen to me, baby, I will love you ’til my breathin’ stops and long, long after. There’s nothin’ you could do, no part of you that you hate that would ever make me think otherwise. You could put a bullet through the dead center of my chest, and not only would I think you were in the right, I’d still love you when I hit the ground.”

The idea of causing him harm of any sort squeezed your throat harder than the lump that was already there. “I don’t know how you can say that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I keep waiting for you to realize that I’m not enough to justify that kind of pain. I’m so scared of hurting you. Of being the reason you get hurt.” Your hands found his shoulders and your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. “You’ve already been through so much, you don’t deserve to suffer when you can avoid it. I couldn’t stand myself if I brought that on you, on top of all my shit you already have to put up with.”

The red returned to Maxi’s eyes, and oddly, you were more soothed than alarmed. You almost wanted his darker self there as a form of assurance, to know that it could protect the man you loved from the fathomless chasm that felt like it was splitting your chest.

“Listen to me,” he demanded, that shadow from his eyes creeping into his words. “I never… I never got to belong to myself, you understand? I was always my family’s next chess piece on the board, or They Who’s next prize monster, or the reaper’s host. I knew that. I spent my life knowin’ that, and I didn’t see another option.”

You recognized the way his fingers of his left hand moved against your back, his tell for weighing his options. The way his eyes went briefly distant, you realized he was making a decision.

His free hand moved to his chest, tracing the scar there through the fabric of his clothes. “…This wasn’t…” He trailed off, his lips a frustrated line as he chose his words. His eyes met yours again, the red still there, brighter now. “…This wasn’t just my dad,” he said at last. “I mean, he put the first one there. The original.” He hesitated a moment longer, the tip of his tongue briefly tracing his lip. “…When I thought my family’s legacy was all I had — all I’d ever have — I reopened it.”

You flinched in horror at the very idea, knowing just how deep that scar tissue went, how thick it was over the muscle. “Oh, Maxi… why, baby?”

A corner of his mouth twitched into a grimace “There’s all sorts of things you can do with a heart when you know how, babydoll. Unnatural things that no one can undo… that no good person would ever dream of.” His eyes moved to a point in the distance over your shoulder, something in them dimming. “And for a long time, I studied it. I read everythin’ I could find about it. It was all I could dream about anymore.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “I was ready to give up blood, skin, and bone for just the chance that it would work.”

Your tears were sticky on your face where they were drying, and you fought a shiver from somewhere deep in your gut, like it recognized something in Maxi’s words you didn’t. “…So what happened?” You couldn’t help but whisper, despite the fact that it was just the two of you in your room. 

Like you were afraid something else would hear you.

An exceptionally grim smile bloomed on Maxi’s face. “Not my proudest moment, is what.” He looked away from you again, as if he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. “Or maybe it was, I don’t know. It was the night I buried my mother. I wasn’t sober by any means, but my father was dead drunk. He interrupted me, we got to arguin’, then screamin’, and before I quite realized what I’d done… he was just dead.”

Silence settled over the pair of you as he met your eyes again, watching you like he was waiting for you to recoil from him. To suddenly realize in that moment what kind of monster had been sharing your bed for all this time.

“…Yeah, well,” you murmured. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes as you held his gaze. “Good riddance.”

Maxi’s smile softened into the one you knew best, his eyes relieved despite the shade lingering in them. “I didn’t realize just how lucky I was that night. Not by half.” He reached up, moving some of your hair on your pillow away from your face. “Because later, after so long of never belongin’ to myself, you let me be yours. And you gave me back what was left of me, you hear?” He swallowed hard, and you could finally see the glow that had swept in with the familiar red gleam was at least partially tears of his own. He traced the line of your cheek. “You reminded me I was still a person, somewhere under all of this. That I was allowed to want more than just grittin’ my teeth and gettin’ through what brief mortal life I was meant to have.” He shifted on his pillow again, closing the distance between the two of you. “I spent ages askin’ myself, ‘they’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever had, the hell do they want with me?’ And—“ He stopped, forcing himself to take a breath that wasn’t quite steady anymore. “And you took such… care of me,” he went on. “You loved me so much, I started to believe I could just… be human, after all this time. Could deserve to be loved, even.” 

He moved his hands so his arms encircled your waist again, hugging you tightly while giving him enough space to keep eye contact. “You have no idea how many times in my life I went out in the dark and didn’t care if I saw daylight,” he said softly. “But that night we walked into the Masquerade together, I knew I’d fight Hell itself just to stay alive with you for one more hour. I’d never been more certain of anything in my entire life.”

The heat that seemed to fill your own eyes, lingering at your lash line, was from something entirely different now.

“Your brain chemistry can run its miserable little mouth all it wants, darlin’.” Maxi rested his forehead gently against yours. “And I’ll be here to hold you until it quiets down, whenever you need me to. But it’s dead wrong. I know that for a fact.” One of his hands, still cool to the touch, cupped your cheek like you were something wondrous. “There is nothin’ about my life you haven’t made better just by bein’ in it. And we’re gonna live a longer one still. A happy one, despite everythin’, together,” he took one of your hands in his, bringing it gently to his lips. “I love you exactly as you are. I always will.”

Fresh rivulets formed on your face, but these felt… different. Like rain after a drought.

You wound your arms around his neck, trapping his chest — scar and all — against your own. “I love you the same,” you whispered. “Exactly as you are. All of you.” You pressed a single kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And there’s nothing that can ever change that.”

Maxi’s grin was unmistakable. “Y’know, it’s the damnedest thing,” he said quietly. “For the first time, I’m lookin’ forward to livin’ through whatever’s next.”

You smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “I’m glad I get to be here for it.”

Maxi leaned forward to kiss you properly, long and slow as though to make it last the rest of your lives.

[shyvioletcat]

for striking matches au: "It looks like you have more fun with them than with me."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here’s a little bit of Firefighter fun for your day.

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

Rowan sat slumped on the couch, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for Aelin to finish getting ready. It had taken him minutes to get ready, with his dark jeans and button up white shirt, a pair of lensless glasses frames tucked into the chest pocket. They were going to a Halloween party at Aedion and Lysandra’s place, and very honestly, Rowan didn’t want to go.

He and Aelin had only been going out for just a little over a month and he had met her family and friends a few times, but they definitely weren’t his friends yet. He knew what would happen tonight once they got to the party, and he would be left with two choices. One, he could follow Aelin around the whole night as she lit up the room and thrived on all the social interactions. Or two, he’d sit in a corner with a beer and watch. Considering that he’d just come off a hard shift, Rowan was feeling more inclined to do the second. The subject of him staying behind had been broached but Aelin wasn’t having it. She said it would ruin their ‘matching’ costumes and added that her friends wanted to spend more time with him. So of course Rowan relented for her. Only her.

“Alright, ready,” Aelin sang as she appeared from her bedroom. She was wearing a long black coat and a pair of black boots, her golden hair in soft waves with the ends chalked a vibrant red.

“You’re wearing that?” Rowan asked, not bothering to get up yet.

Aelin grinned at him. “No, I”m wearing this.”

She opened her jacket to show him what was underneath, and Rowan felt his eyes go wide. Aelin had decided on their costumes, they were going to the party dressed as each other professions. Rowan’s costume had been all too easy to put together, all he had to buy was a pair of cheap glasses from the discount store and pop the lenses out. Aelin had bought the entirety of hers new, unless by some design of fate she had this firefighter costume lying around. But Rowan seriously doubted that.

His eyes started at the black boots she wore – and maybe he had seen those before – but her long legs were mostly bare except for a small pair of black shorts with a trim of red on the legs and a yellow belt. A strip of her stomach was bare as well, the shirt hugged her waist and upper torso, and zip ran up the middle instead of buttons, leaving it open in a deep V as it precariously contained her cleavage. It was all topped off with a pair of suspenders that she had her thumbs hooked under as she still grinned at him.

“So, what do you think? Reckon Lorcan would let me join the team?”

Rowan blinked once before he managed to look up her face. The neckline was proving more of a distraction the longer he looked.

“Do we have to go?” Rowan blurted and Aelin tipped her head back and laughed.

“We most certainly do.” Aelin did her jacket up and grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter as well as a plastic firefighter hat. “Come on, Mr Whitethorn. Let’s go have some fun.”

Rowan was about to tell her they could have fun here, probably better fun too, but he just sighed and closed the apartment door behind him.

Aelin left her coat in the car. Rowan had parked and within seconds Aelin had deserted the car only leaving a heap of black material behind. He was quick to follow and the elevator arrived just as he got there. 

“Look at this fancy apartment building with it’s elevator,” Aelin mused as she pushed the button and then lent on the railing. “You never answered my question. You think Lorcan would let me on the team?”

Rowan turned, seeing that teasing look written on every feature of her face. “Definitely not. But that has nothing to do with the costume.”

Aelin laughed again. “You haven’t even told me if you like my costume or not. You make a very sexy Teacher if I do say so myself.”

He moved, they were chest to chest and almost touching. Then Rowan gave her a lingering once over that made Aelin breath just a little faster. Leaning in he kissed her, and he felt her smiling against his lips before she fully committed to it. The only sound was the mechanisms of the elevator, then there was the definitive sound of a zipper being pulled.

Aelin let out a comical gasp. “Mr Whitethorn, keep your hands to yourself.” 

Rowan chuckled and kissed her again, quickly, and stepped away, hands raised. 

“I was wondering how long it would take you, that was damn near obscene,” Aelin laughed, readjusting her suspenders.

He hadn’t been pulling the down, he’d been pulling it up to try and give him a little more peace of mind when he walked into the party. It was a stupid, jealous thing to do, and he expected Aelin to rip into him for it. But he was mistaken, it was all a ploy from Aelin to get his attention it seemed. The elevator arrived at the right floor and she pulled his glasses from his pocket, slipping them onto his nose before grabbing his hand and leading them out. They walked down the hallway, arriving at a door with music pulsing behind it. Aelin didn’t bother knocking and walked in, almost running into the hostess herself. Lysandra was dressed as Red Riding Hood, a bright red cape over a short green dress.

“You made it!” She nearly yelled as she hugged Aelin, obviously already a little drunk. Then her green eyes landed on him. “Nice lipstick, Rowan.”

Confused, Rowan rubbed at his mouth, his fingers coming away red. He gave Aelin an accusing look but she just grinned and rubbed away what was left of the lipstick.

“You look great,” Lysandra said, then she pointed between them. “I get it. You’re dressed as each other. Clever.”

“Thank you,” Aelin said, tucking into Rowan’s side. “Where’s Aeds?”

Lysandra waved behind her. “Somewhere. You guys have fun, now!” 

She was gone through the crowd and Rowan held onto Aelin’s hand as she led them to the drinks. He spotted Elide and a few other familiar faces, but overall there were a lot of people hadn’t seen before. Aelin waved to people she recognised, saying hello here and there, but she never let go of him. She found him a stool in a corner, letting him sit while she leaned into his chest. Aedion eventually found them, as did Elide and Lysandra, the women begging Aelin to come dance but she declined. 

Rowan could tell that she wanted to, so he leant forward and kissed her cheek. “Go have fun love, I’m fine here.”

She turned to face him then said hopefully. “You could always come dance with me.”

“I don’t think so,” Rowan said, shaking his head. 

Aelin pouted at him but she didn’t push him. “I’ll be back soon I promise.”

True to her word Aelin came back after a few dances, Rowan’s eyes had been drinking her in the whole time and she made sure to send him flirty smiles as she did. That costume combined with the way she moved was nearly driving him insane. But soon after she arrived she was dragged off again for a game of beer pong with Aedion. As a team the two cousins were unstoppable and by the time she wandered back to Rowan again she was definitely a little tipsy. She threw her arms around his neck, leaning fully into him.

“Come dance with me, please?” Aelin begged. 

That smile was almost his undoing but then a voice he actually recognised sounded from behind her.

“There you are. Not surprised to see you hiding in a corner, Whitethorn.”

Looking up Rowan saw Fenrys and Aelin turned to face him as well. 

“You made it!” She exclaimed.

It was then that Rowan took in exactly what Fenrys was wearing… or not wearing. He had worn most of his work uniform, just about everything except his shirt. Even with the jacket over the top Rowan could tell that he’s taken care to oil up his bare chest beneath, only ever so slightly covered by his suspenders. He lent his elbow on Aelin’s shoulder, and looking at the two of them they were the ones that looked like they had come dressed to match.

Fenrys tilted his head. “Who are you supposed to be? Clark Kent?”

Rowan crossed his arms over his chest but it was Aelin who answered. “No he’s a teacher. You get it?”

“Oh, yep yep. I get it,” Fenrys said nodding. “You’ve swapped professions. And, might I just say Miss Galathynius, you make a fine firefighter.” 

Aelin shoved him. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.”

Getting a drink turned into a few dances, followed by a game of magnetic darts and then at least three songs worth of awful karaoke. In between the activities Aelin and Fenrys wandered away from each other, but always seemed to find the other again. At one point Fenrys came over to drop off his jacket now that he was getting a little warm, Rowan had even rolled his sleeves up to his elbows for a little relief.

Rowan fixed his coworker with a look. “You know you’re not supposed to wear your uniform outside of work.”

Fenrys’ reply was a shrug and a grin.

“You look like a stripper,” Rowan added and Fenrys let out an incredulous laugh.

“We all gotta live a little sometimes,” Fenrys said before disappearing to Aelin’s side again.

Rowan felt himself getting more sullen by the second, watching how Aelin and Fenrys smiled and had fun together. It was moments like this that Rowan wished he was more… sociable. More willing to put himself out there in situations like this, but instead he was sitting in a dark corner by himself, with only Fenrys’ jacket for company. Aelin wandered back to him, her hands immediately going to his face to make her look at him.

“What is it?” She asked him.

“It’s nothing,” Rowan said and she tried to shake Aelin off but she kept hold of him and just lent in closer.

“What. Is. It.”

Rowan sighed. “It looks like you have more fun with him than with me.”

Aelin smirked. “And him meaning Fenrys.”

Rowan nodded.

That smirk turned into a coy smile and she slotted herself between his legs, his hands finding her waist. “Well maybe if you got off this stool and came out to play.”

Rowan started to frown but Aelin kept his attention. “Hey, I’m kidding. I get it. Funny thing is that I invited him so you would have someone to talk to. Maybe I should have invited Lorcan instead, except he’d never say yes to me.” Rowan managed a laugh at that. “And I definitely don’t have more fun with Fen, trust me.” Aelin added earnestly.

“It certainly looks like it,” Rowan grumbled.

Aelin slid that much closer, her mouth right by his ear. “Oh yeah? Well, would I ever let him…”

She whispered in his ear, so close the breath that accompanied her words tickled his skin, making him break out in goosebumps. They were words that described something obscene about sliding on fire poles, on his fire pole to be exact. When she pulled away Aelin’s smile was feline and Rowan felt his cheeks heat.

“Can we go now, please?” Rowan’s voice was nowhere near as smooth or confident as he wanted it to be.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Aelin said. Rowan stood and went to take his glasses off but Aelin stopped him, her hands running up his arms to where his sleeves were rolled up. “You’ll be leaving those on. All night, if you please, Mr Whitethorn.” 

~~~~~

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this silliness. 

Tags:

@tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla28// @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @pilesofriles // @chemicha // @keshavomit // @sarahbringsoutmygay13 // @wifeofchrishemsworth // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @illyrian-velaris // @flowerspringsea // @whitethorn15 // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @notaddictedtoanything // @thereaderandfangirl // @mynewdreamwasyou // @tintinnabulary // @the-regal-warrior // @searchingforbellarke // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @officialasianbitch // @burningbookz // @viajandosinalas // @chaoticskyy // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @belamoonbeam // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @littleboxofthunder // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @empress-ofbloodshed // @acciowests //

[citydreamgrls]

how much have you had to drink?

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 2,387

a/n: maybe I did use too many differing pov’s but it is what it is,, enjoy!! :)

warnings: none ( i think )

I had been the first, and only person to prank the twins back at Hogwarts. Everyone else in the school was too afraid of their tricks that it was easier to stay out of a never-ending war with them. But I'd always been up for a good challenge, even if it was a 5 year long one.

As usual the twins joined me at breakfast, ignoring Angelina who had been telling me about the upcoming halloween party, and sat either side of me.

“Morning boys,”

“y/n,” they acknowledged in unison, both reaching for toast.

“Sleep well?” I asked George.

“Oh yes, perfectly.” He said sarcastically, taking a large bite of food.

“Almost as if someone slipped us a sleeping potion.” Fred joined in on the other side of me.

“Well I had to test my homework on someone,” I admitted, unashamed of my great potion-making skills. “Anything else strange happen last night?” I asked innocently.

“Nope.” they said.

“You sure? Because I managed to get some very lovely pictures of you too sporting some very sweet hairstyles.” I waved the photos of their sleeping forms in their faces, the little red pigtails flashing before their eyes.

Oliver Wood, having caught onto the end of our conversation leant across the table to see what I had.

“So that’s why you too looked like that this morning, I was beginning to worry I’d started sleepwalking.. Or styling.” He laughed, earning a glare from the boys beside me.

“You know we will get you back y/n,” Fred warned, but his threat was empty.

“Oh come on, you boys always go easy on me.” I laughed, taking a sip of my juice and immediately spitting it back out. “Gross!”

“Oh do we?” George asked, barely looking up from his book to hex my plate into slugs.

-  

As much as the twins and I battled, they were still my best friends and I had spent pretty much my entire time at Hogwarts at their side. Unless Angelina pulled me away to gossip about whatever ‘exciting’ thing was coming up next.

This time it was the halloween party.

“I just don’t get why I have to dress up Lina, I'm already a witch. Can’t I go as myself?” I huffed, resting my legs on her lap as we sat in front of the fire.

“The Weasley’s won’t let anyone in who isn’t dressed up, it’s the rules.”

“Oh that’s easy, they’ll let me come regardless.” I laughed.

It was as if they appeared at the sound of their name, popping their heads over the back of the sofa. Both Angelina and I jumped out of our skin, immediately reaching up to hit them in retaliation.

“Hey, you guys will still let me come to the party saturday if I don’t dress up right?” I asked with an expectant smile.

“No costume,” Fred started

“No entry,” George finished. And then walked off to the dorms.

“Oi, but it’s me-”

“No exceptions,” They called back.

I fell back into the sofa, ignoring Angelina’s smug face as she started discussing costumes once again. Tossing up whether to go as a cat, or some sort of muggle character. Not that she really knew any, but she just wanted to impress one of the boys in the year above.

“Will you help me y/n?” she pleaded, to which I finally gave in. Knowing I didn’t have anything better to do.

-

Saturday morning rolled around and I still hadn’t sorted my own costume, but at least Angelina was happy with her Daphne costume that I’d helped organise.

Fred and George had slipped away early from dinner last night, claiming that they had to ‘finish up party plans’. But I felt uneasy, having swapped their ties for two slytherin ones and then locking them in the dorms until 2 minutes before classes started that morning.

Yes it made me late for Mcgonigall’s lesson too, but seeing them rush in wearing the wrong uniform and having to explain that it had just been mixed up somehow to their head of house was well worth it.

Still, they could be planning payback.

-

The party was starting in an hour, and everyone was in their dorms getting ready. Including about three more girls than were usually in mine and Angelina’s dorm, racing around with masks and lip liner and other parts of costumes.

I walked in to see a hat with bunny ears laying on my bed.

“It’s all I could find,” Angelina told me, as she passed by to grab her purple jacket. “Dunno if it’ll be enough though.”

“I’ll sort something out, thanks Lina!” I shouted after her as she raced to use the bathroom before anyone else slipped in.

My only thought at the time was clown makeup, but I didn’t have any white face paint, and never really enjoyed its feel as it was. So I took a red lipstick and some dark eyeshadow to draw diamonds round my eyes. With the bunny hat on I looked far from scary, but paired with the clown makeup and a dark lip, I at least looked creepy.

Angelina leant me some fishnet tights to wear with my black skirt and I threw on a zip hoodie I had stolen from one of them twins years ago. I couldn’t remember which one if I was being honest.

-

Oliver and I had been sharing a bottle of vodka I'd brought with me from home, knowing it got everyone drunk quicker than wizard booze. Without realising it, an hour had passed, and I was yet to see either of the twins.

“You seen Fred or George tonight?” I asked the boy beside me, who was enjoying his stress-free evening.

“Yeah, Fred is dressed as a fighter pilot and I think I saw George in some kind of lab coat… or maybe it was a doctor?” He laughed to himself.

I headed up to their dorm room to see if they were there, and sure enough I just avoided a head on collision as they walked out.

“Whoa, nearly lost me there!” I screamed, stumbling back with a laugh. “What are you guys doing up here,”

“Nothing,” George spoke quickly.

“How much did you drink, y/n” Fred asked, helping me down the stone steps until we made it safely to the common room.

“Not loads, hey that’s not right.” I frowned at the boy holding me steady.  “Oliver said you were dressed as a Pilot Fred, not George.”

“I am George!” The boy, with the aviator sunglasses on, teased. “You’re as bad as mum honestly.”

“Yeah, at least our costumes are legit!” the other teased, flopping the bunny ear that had fallen over one eye away.

“Do you like it?” I spun round, the skirt bouncing around I did.

“It’s an interesting combination,”

“Well you haven’t kicked me out… yet.”

-

Unbeknownst to y/n’s knowledge, the twins continued to confuse her. Constantly running off to swap costumes, and mess with their friend further. Although it kind of backfired, as the more she drank, the less she trusted herself to tell them apart and gave up altogether. In the end they went back to their original costumes, Fred as the Pilot and George the bloody doctor. They both decided to tell y/n the next morning, when she could at least have a chance of understanding.

-

Everyone else was in bed, except for the twins and I who sat up singing by the fire and sharing the last bottle of gin that I could find in my stash.

“I’m gonna have to stock up my stash at christmas,” I laughed as the last swig was taken and we fell into each other's shoulders. I slumped between them, laughing at the memory of Ron and Hermione’s perfect dance routine to livin’ la vida loca earlier that night.

I felt a lump in my jacket pocket and remembered that’s where I’d left my cigarettes since being at home. I stood up, startling the boys and declared what I was leaving to do.

“I’m off for a smoke, see you in a bit.” They shook awake.

“Wait y/n, you can’t smoke here rememb- oh god she’s gone.”

“Well go on then George, stop her!” Fred grumbled to his brother, having already drifted back off to sleep.

-

George ran down the staircase, being careful not to make too much noise as his doctor’s coat flew behind him. He had only been a few seconds behind y/n, how could she have disappeared already? Still, he headed for the black lake, knowing that was her favourite spot to go when she wanted to be alone. He had watched her there many times, far away enough that she had never spotted him though.

“Y/n!” He whisper-shouted, running down the bank towards her. She was already sat down, the lighter in one hand and a cigarette balanced between her lips.

“What are you doing Fred?” she asked, mistaking him for the other twin.

“Oh about th-”

“At least it’s you and not George,”

The boy felt hurt by her words, always having looked after her without her knowing. Most of the time the lack of retaliation from the twins in their prank war was because George would sabotage it. He always felt guilty playing tricks on y/n.

“Why’s that?” He asked, playing along with what she believed to find out the truth.

The girl lit her cigarette regardless of his warning, and puffed out a breath of smoke offering it to the boy beside her who reluctantly agreed. Knowing that if his mother could see him now, she would have a heart attack.

“I always embarrass myself in front of George,” y/n admitted. “Whether it’s being drunk, or making stupid jokes. I just look like an idiot when I’m around him.”

“I don’t think you do,”

“I can’t help it though, it’s different with you. You’re like a brother to me Fred.”

“Actually y/n-” George started, wanting to come clean, but she kept going.

“But George, he’s just more than that you know. He always cares for me and makes sure I’m safe, hell he thinks I don’t notice when he watches me sulk down here.” She laughed lightly to herself, leaning to rest on the boy beside her. “I was so sure I knew him better than anyone else, but obviously not.” Her shoulders dropped in despair.

“Why’s that?”

“He probably just sees me as a friend right? I mean, I couldn’t even tell you two apart tonight, I thought you were him.” She scoffed.

George swallowed, knowing that him admitting to their prank would most likely cause some backlash from the girl. But he bit the bullet.

“I am George.”

Her body froze.

“Don’t joke.” She said flatly.

“I’m not, honestly. It was just supposed to confuse you earlier but I am George.”

Y/n stood up, dropping her cigarette into the water and headed up the hill towards the courtyard. George ran after her again.

“Please y/n wait!” He called out, grabbing her hand to stop her. She spun around, tears running down her face. “Oh god i’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you thought I was him, I just came to check on you.”

“I’m such an idiot god.” she huffed, trying to drag herself away but he wouldn’t let go. “I can’t even tell it’s you when you’re right here,”

“Yes you could y/n, that’s the whole point.”

“Still I just told you how I feel about you, with no intention of actually telling you, yet here we are with you being kind and nice and perfect and I’m just embarrassing myself once again.”

George followed her into the hallway and up the stairs, not wanting to call out until they were clear of the earshot of others. He managed to stop her just before the common room, pulling her aside into a secluded corner.

“Y/n, darling..” she had never heard him call anyone that seriously until now, and she couldn’t help but feel special because of that. “I have never seen you as an idiot, and you have never embarrassed yourself in front of me. In fact, I’ve always thought you were the perfect one.”

“Then why are you only telling me this now?” The girl asked him.

“I always thought you liked Oliver,”

“Wood?” she laughed and he hadn’t heard a sound better “God, he’s way too intense. Even tonight he wanted to talk game strategies with me, it was so boring.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

“So… you’ve always liked me?” She teased him slightly, playing with the seam of his costume. George just rolled his eyes and held her face, making her look up at him. Of course she had stood next to him before, but it was only in this moment that she felt the sheer height gap between them.

He leant down and kissed her lips, still clutching her face as her hands dropped from his coat in shock. He was soft and sincere, holding her as if he’d longed to do so for quite some time. Y/n smiled against George’s lips, making the boy blush to himself and thank Merlin that she couldn’t see him do it.

They broke away after what felt like nowhere near long enough, y/n rested her head into his chest and sighed happily.

“We should get to bed, it’s late.” George whispered and she nodded. “You tired?” y/n nodded again. “Okay darling let’s go.” He took her waist and lifted her off the ground, letting her wrap her legs around him and nestle into his neck.

He passed Fred who was slipping into unconsciousness on the common room sofa.

“Night Fred,” they called to him, and he just groaned back.

“Don’t worry, we can tell him in the morning.”

“George,” the girl in his arms groaned.

“Yesss..”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course darling,” George said softly and took the girl up to his dorm so she could sleep comfortably in his arms, her little head tucked between him and the bed. He laughed at the bunny hat discarded on the chair, remembering how sweet she’d looked in it.

Even as a creepy clown George had wanted to kiss her.

[daisies-write]

And he said “nope” - Part 2

Deal with the Devil

Hisoka x weak!reader; soulmate AU

Ok so we decided to go with a light and fun story! I suppose it isn’t what’s expected of a Hisoka x reader but with Ari we had so much fun imagining different scenarios where both are forced to work together, it just started to take life on it’s own! I hope it won’t be disapointing for you and that you’ll like this serie as much as we do! @kuuredere​

-Yasu

Previous chapter / Next chapter

TW: none

Writer: Both of us ! (Ari and Yasu)

Word count: 1965

    This is how your "contract" began with Hisoka, with one simple deal: to continue with your life without being disturbing each other, as if you two never met. You would never work together anyway. You had morals and Hisoka was… Hisoka.

    But strangely, since then your life had seemed to take an ominous decline and you were starting to wonder if the Universe had something to do with it. Too much had happened in too little time: losing your car, having your apartment infested with cockroaches, and finding out that your partner might be having an affair. Well… it couldn't be worse, after all.

    " You are fired. "

Ah. It could, actually.

    You were sitting on a bench somewhere in a park, with a big box full of your things lying at your feet, trying somehow to reach your partner on the phone. After the fifth call, you gave up. They must have been busy ...

    You clapped your hands over your eyes, sighing loudly, twisting in your head everything you could do to find a job that paid as well as your last but there were very few options and the remaining ones didn't appeal to you one bit. You weren't desperate enough to striptease yet, that's for sure, and going back to babysitting was a big no.

    "Maybe they were right in the end," you mumbled in your despair. “I'm not meant to be a Hunter and I'm not made for the big city.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips. “A real little peasant, haha. "

    As if trying to mock you, the sun and the sky were extremely bright that day. Or maybe it was to support you...

    " Well! I got this! I will not be discouraged for so little! "

    You got up on your feet, determined, and then sat down again almost instantly.

    "I have nowhere to sleep."

    You expressed yourself with yet another long sigh. If only you hadn’t met this Hisoka, if only you hadn’t gone to see that damn battle at Heaven Arenas with your friends, if only you had said no, your life surely would have just as chill, like it used to. Seeing in color was fun but not necessary.

    "I don't like pink," you thought as you saw a kid make a big bubble with his chewing gum.

    "My, it looks like my kitten is doing badly ~," said a voice you recognized all too well.

    Slowly turning your head to the side, you could finally confirm your fears: Hisoka was looking at you with a big smile, a hand on his cheek and mocking eyes.

    "Hey, Satan," you answered instinctively.

    He laughs at your words.

    "I’m pretty sure I’m even worse, but thank you nonetheless."

    “Go away. I don’t have time to mess with you. And like, don’t you have a fight today?”

    Hisoka shrugged.

    “The guy isn’t worth my time, that’s all.”

    “So you thought about stalking me?”

    “I thought about watching children play but I found you like you would find a wart,” he said nonchalantly.

    You just started at him, genuinely creeped out.

    “Get out of here, pedo.”

    He laughed again.

    “Make me.”

     “The sexual innuendo of this sentence is way too big so you better stop using it unless if you want to bang me,” you said, unphased. “But there’s a hint: you ugly.”

    “Wow!” Hisoka placed a hand to his heart, a pout on his face. “You didn’t seem quite so aggressive last time. Something bad happened?” His eyes found your box and his smirk came back. “Fired?”

    You said nothing, but the displeased expression gave him confirmation.

    “Your fault.”

    “How’s that? Oh, let me guess,” his finger taping his lips in the most frustrating exagerration of his excessively dramatic self. “You couldn’t stop thinking about me and got distracted from your work, so of course, your boss told you to never come back because of your  uselesness. Tragic love story!” He sighed. “But then again, who could resist me? I feel sympathetic for you. <3″

    Your disgust grew just at the thought of being in love with Hisoka. He annoyed more you at every word he spoke, at every breath he took but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing this. You prefered playing his game and use your sarcasm to counter his and perhaps, distract yourself from your harsh reality.

    “Well, if you’re so sympathetic, you could buy me a house-”

    “Nope, <3″

You tried, at least!

    “My apartment have been infested with cockroaches, so honestly, I really need a house. If you know a place, tell me.”

Hisoka eyed you for a second.

     “Are you really unclean to the point of having cockroaches in your whole apartment?”

    “What ? NO!” you yelled.

He just laughed again, shoting his head back. You bite your lower lips in embarassment as you saw the eyes of everyone else in proximity glaring at you. Your cheeks burned in fluster.You’ve been too loud.

    “I have an idea!” you said to Hisoka after chacking your burning face away. “We could swap houses! That way, you could live with your family!”

His laugh died and he looked at you, pleased that you started playing with him.

   “They said they missed you, you know? That you shouldn’t have run off and left them without saying anything,” you continued.

   “I,” started Hisoka through a shit eating grin, “hate you so much and I urge to kill you but it would be no fun with you.”

    “I think one of your brothers at my house is called Steve. Steve really, really misses you.” You smiled. “I feel like you two were very close.”

    You liked insisting on each and every word of your sentence.

    “Impossible. I’m too sexy to be related to Steve.”

    “You’re sure? I thought you were twins. I could barely tell you apart!” Your voice sounded more and more amused with each syllable leaving your mouth. It felt so natural. “Wow.”

    Honeslty, playful bander with Hisoka was fun. A real game, a match one of you had to win; he was never phased by any of your words so you kept sending sly insults back and forth in this oddly lively and convivial disgust you shared for each other.

    Unfortunatly, everything must come to an end, right? You stopped quick in your teasing when you saw a familiar number appearing on your phone. Your smile vanished in less than a second and the atmosphere wasn’t so light anymore. Your partner was calling you, but in all honesty, you didn’t want to answer now. Or more like you didn’t have the heart to. 

    Hisoka raised one eyebrow.

    “Lover?”

    “I guess.. They’ve been cheating for a while, so no, not really anymore,” you said, trying your best to seem nonchalant about it.

    “And you’re okay with that? You don’t seem like the type who’d have an open relationship.” His voice sounded like he took great joy in your suffering.

    “Well, they found their soulmate. I know them,” you gulped. “I know them more than I know myself. It’s been hard on them and they aren’t ready to talk about it but I’m aware of what they’re doing at night. I saw their messages by accident.” You shrugged. “I’m only waiting for when they feel like it’s time.”

You stared at the number until it disappeared.

    “Liar.”

You looked over to Hisoka again, slightly disoriented.

    “You can dump them since you found your own soulmate.The break-up wouldn’t be so hard on them if they knew this.” He chuckled. “You’re just slowing down the inevitable fate of your couple. You don’t want to be alone and that’s all there is to know.”

    You glared at him, now. Your heart was beating loudly against your chest, in pure anger. How could he read through you so easily? You didn’t like that one bit and you were disappointed in yourself for oversharing. He’s your soulmate, yes, but he’s still Hisoka.

“Please. Not now.”

“Sucks to be you, love.”

    An awkward silence fall upon you both, or at least upon you. While you were frantically texting your best friend to ask for a place to stay, only to be met with a lenghty apology, you searched for other ways to find a place to sleep tonight. The motel rooms prices were way too high and you didn’t know how long you’d need to stay, nor how much it’ll cost to have your appartment clean again. You couldn’t face your partner and you were too ashamed to call your family. Your pride would end you but you prefered sleeping in the streets than having them look at you disapprovingly. Your whole world was falling apart and you blamed it all on Hisoka. And yet...

    Hisoka’s eyes didn’t leave your figure. His mind was racing and it seemed like it was the only thing it did since he met you. He didn’t speak when he saw you frown and sigh and type desesperatly on your phone, swipping through your contacts, hesitating over a room price, checking over and over again if anyone could help you. His mind was still racing when he told you:

    “I guess you can come to my place for a while.”

    You were utterly speechless and goggled at him for a few seconds. It isn’t like Hisoka at all to propose help. He had something in mind, you knew as much, but you couldn’t help but feel floored.

    “Who are you and what the heck did you do to my soulmate-?”

    “Awww, you refer to me as your soulmate, that’s adorable.”

    “ANSWER-” Honestly, you didn’t care about the volume of your voice at this point. You were too shocked. 

    Hisoka just laughed it off and looked at you, openly condescending and still smiling. Does he ever stop doing so ?

    “I will have to take on a mission so I won’t be at Heaven Arenas for a while.” He pointed at you. “You can take my room there while I’m gone.”

You were too confused.

    “But why? You gain nothing by doing this!” You frowned and wrapped your hands protectively against your body. “I won’t have sex with you!”

    “Don’t worry, I’d rather die,” he rolled his eyes. “I let you take my room because whatever happens to you if you sleep on a bench in the parc happens to me as well. And even if I’m pretty sure I can manage, I don’t want to wake up in the morning with a hole in my belly. You got it, darling?” 

    “Wait, what do you mean everything that happens to-’

But he didn’t let you finish your sentence: he took your box and walked away without giving you any other explanation.

    “Hisoka, wait!”

    Well, at least you got a rather interesting piece of informations. You didn’t know everything about soulmates but you sure knew that even if you were linked by fate, Hisoka wouldn’t do this without solid motives. Everything about him screamed to you to never trust him but you needed your box and you needed a roof over your head. You wouldn’t let your guard down for now. You probably couldn’t beat him in a fight but he didn’t seem like he’d kill you so that was already a good point.

    You made a mental note to look more deeply into all of this and untangle the mystery of his help and quickly followed your jerk soulmate. 

    “I said wait, asshole!”

    “What, miss me already? Do you want a goodbye kiss?”

    “Don’t say such repulsive things,” you replied, gagging. “I’ll need the room’s key.”

    “Here,” he tosses it to you before adding “just don’t go looking around my stuff too much~”

This was going to be... interesting.

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis. 

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt. 

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures. 

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again. 

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too. 

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?” 

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated. 

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.” 

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.” 

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?” 

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.” 

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves. 

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.” 

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek. 

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque. 

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive. 

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on. 

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?” 

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then? 

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.” 

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive. 

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.” 

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime. 

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?” 

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses. 

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process. 

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself. 

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.” 

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her. 

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.” 

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?” 

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility. 

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?” 

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.” 

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?  

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought. 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.” 

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her? 

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision. 

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?” 

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.” 

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.” 

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week. 

* 

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees. 

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her. 

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?” 

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. 

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK. 

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?” 

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden. 

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now. 

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual. 

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.” 

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about. 

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter. 

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered. 

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.” 

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?” 

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.” 

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.” 

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound. 

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?” 

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…” 

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off. 

“What?” He asked. 

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?” 

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out. 

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this? 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood. 

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction. 

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead. 

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him. 

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it. 

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.” 

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement. 

“Start as we mean to go on, right?” 

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place. 

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it. 

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup. 

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”  

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?” 

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it. 

“So don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.” 

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?” 

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence. 

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.” 

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.” 

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that. 

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.” 

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

* 

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare. 

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.” 

“So why are you ignoring him?” 

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.” 

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”  

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.” 

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months. 

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker. 

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed. 

“Not really. That person’s usually me.” 

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”  

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.” 

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second. 

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear. 

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness. 

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.” 

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.” 

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.” 

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.” 

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.” 

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her. 

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter. 

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong. 

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning. 

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again 

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him. 

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well 

Fuck. 

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee. 

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.  

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that 

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do?? 

Fuck knows. 

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over? 

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea 

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen? 

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you?? 

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him. 

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over 

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality. 

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself. 

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head. 

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move. 

*

[fenheart87]

Healing the Magic

For @bloody-no-kissu happy belated birthday!

-start-

“Well hello there, sniffer’s no good upwind.” Luka kept his relaxed posture, no need to scare the young woman, especially when he had no way of knowing what she was capable of. "Rest easy lass, just a wee break for the legs before finishing my journey. Beautiful women are welcome to the river beside me, I don't bite."

Marinette snorted and moved closer, much more at ease with the werewolf as he was coherent. Carefully she scooped some water from the flow of the river with a chipped bowl and carefully filled her canteen. Silently she thanked the river spirits that this one was untainted by the illness that was flooding the capital. Once her canteen was full, she filled a few vials and other potion bottles. She would need moon water but that was harder to come by, unless…

"Pray tell furry friend," she smiled at the eye roll and continued, "if I were to say leave a basin to be touched by Sister Moon would you place a watchful eye and help me to gather pure water from a full and a new moon?"

"Moon water aye?" Blue eyes narrowed in consideration and a healthy dose of wariness. "And what would a young lass such as yourself need any type of moon water for?"

"I come from the Agreste ranch, rescued as a healer for the ailing late Madame Emilie Agreste. Since her passing and resting of her soul, I have been helping to use my skills for those in the nearby town, most wounds heal best under a full moon. Other times I must raise defense for myself against those who wish to harm a skilled healer such as myself. I understand if you cannot help." Marinette simply returned to drinking fresh water from the river and making sure she had collected enough for her next round of potions.

"Lilly wheat grows yonder the hill to the west, right along the tree line. It can be tricking to navigate, I swear to watch yer things should you need to gather it."

Surprise covered her features, it was exactly what she was looking for and made her rethink this werewolf and wonder, how did he recognize the potion? "Many thanks, should you need flea repellent, there is thistle burn about two miles east of here."

"Ah the smell would be unmistakable." Nodding his shaggy head in thanks and reclined on the other bank, he seemed to be done with conversation.

"I'll take you up on your kind offer stranger, I'll be swift." Marinette heard the snort but paid it no mind as she gathered her dagger, amulet and her bag for the herbs she had collected. Swapping the jars of water for a few empty ones, she made her way to the west. Humming some disguised spells, Marinette committed the path to memory and found a few alternate routes for future trips. Sure enough she spotted lilly wheat from its lavender and pale blue coloring, it was a hybrid lookalike of wheat and blue bell flowers. Gathering as much as she could to fill the jars to the max and even stuffed her apron pockets to the brim. Making her way back, she heard a few twigs snap and the trees across the river had a slight sway, signalling the werewolf just left.

"Thank you kind wolf!" Upon reaching the middle of the clearing, she noticed both collection jars were missing. Smiling, she made a note to return in a month's time.

________________________________________

The walk helped clear her senses, too much magic and illness in the capitol had clouded Marinette's magical innate ability to sense other beings. Nature was usually at a neutral point unless tainted by those who lived in the area. Out here so far away from anything or even the manor of vampires she cohabitated with was still pure and loved to trade her negative things with a positive rush of natural magic. It was quite a boost and usually she stored it in her crystals, sometimes bringing them with her to recharge if she was able to stay for a long period.

The tree line broke and the sounds of the river filled her ears and the birds sounded louder than before. Marinette basked in the cheer floating in the air and made her way to the natural alter that she frequently used as her desk. Noticing a note hidden under a rock with a gem tied to it. Carefully she pulled the letter free, not wanting to touch the gem in case it was rigged with a spell.

'Hello Witchling,

I trust your fortnight has been fruitful and as you asked, I was indeed able to get both water from the new moon and the full moon. Untouched completely by every element but the collected water and the air itself. The gem is a family heirloom, there is a hidden cave and it shall lead you to it with just a drop of water from the river.

The Big Friendly Wolf'

Giggling to herself, she did as the note bade and with a touch of cursory magic, determined it was harmless. Dipping a finger in the river for a drop of water, Marinette followed the glowing red light to the cave where her collection jars waited for her, completely untouched. Taking care, she poured the water into the marked pots and carefully sealed them for transportation. This would be plenty for what she needed and Marinette made a note to make something for the helpful Were. Leaving the crystal with the note in the cave, she set off to gather the few missing herbs left. It took only a few minutes of scouting when her senses sparked in alarm, there was another magical signature drawing closer and it was unfamiliar. Deciding the risk was worth it, Marinette touched her amulet and teleported back into the agreste stronghold. 

Dizziness filled her vision for a moment and she steadied herself with a few deep breaths. Looking around her room, she noticed nothing out of order and apart from the usual lingering traces of her magic and of Adrien's, everything was still. Grabbing a couple cookies to help her nausea, Marinette teleported back out of the castle and to the nearby wood. It would make it seem as if she skipped over the mountain and river instead of jumping right through every defense that Gabriel had set. Normally the elder vampire had no qualms with her use of magic but he disapproved of it greatly and even forbade Marinette to teach his son. The magic had chosen the young heir and there was not a thing she could do to stop it but that was a long time before they needed to discuss anything if her luck had anything to do with it, she dearly hoped she would be released from their service before then.

The guard, a quiet man whom Adrien called Gorilla, nodded in greeting and let her pass unharmed. Not many could come and go as they pleased, it was a hard earned honor to be rarely granted. Resuming her humming, her magic reached out and brushed against Adrien's, giving her a clear path to follow. Turning left instead of her normal right, the torches illuminated her way. The only thing King Gabriel requested to be enchanted at all times and now only let Marinette or Felix boost them when the stored magic was running low.

"Oh posh, you know as well as I do your father is hardly that." A foreign voice could be heard as she approached the heir's chambers. 

"I'm not having this argument again, either you can shut up or I'll have your tongue." Adrien rarely snapped and it caused the witch's curiosity to peak even more. The moment of silence was her best bet, knocking in a familiar pattern and humming a containment spell, Marinette opened the door and slipped inside quickly.

"Oi! You never told me Tikki was here!" The blurry black form was hissing and thrashing in anger, the spell working like a charm.

"Oh you must be Plagg! I thought Mullo said you were a cute cat with a bad attitude?" Marinette wondered aloud, smiling in greeting to the frozen vampire.

"Mullo?! Wait wait wait! You're Marinette!"

Plagg settles into his hybrid form, acid green eyes and fluffy black ears being the first clear features to show. He stepped out of the transformation smoke and his body clad in black robes became solid, a slender tail flicking in excitement behind him.

"Oh no, you talk about me?!" Marinette shrieked in alarm, dropping the bag she had forgotten.

"Hold on, what in the Hell's Fires is going on here?" Adrien cut in, looking at the Demigod and his healer in anger and confusion.

"Oh Adrien, you know my true talents are not in healing so I know the Demigods when I see them. I've always known you're magic kissed like your mother." She smiled guiltily as the shock filled his face.

"Of course we talk about you, there's only one of you even century if we're lucky. A Destined is something to be proud of and you are definitely a very special one too. I'd love to see what kind of chaos we could create." His smile was full of fangs and a mischievous gleam shone from his eyes.

"Maybe one day, especially since I was forbade from teaching any magic and now you're contracted to Adrien." Marinette surmised, it was the only explanation as to why the demigod would actually be there in person.

"Father will never learn to trust me will he?" The blonde sighed deeply, defeat easy to read in his hunched form. 

"He fears the illness that took your mother will take you as well…" Marinette hesitated, looking to Plagg for permission to disclose the truth; a move that Adrien noticed and pounced on.

"What are you hiding from me?" He rose from the chair, brow furrowed in anger and stalked towards the shorter woman.

"I cannot say, the King has his ways of forbidding even the most noble of truths." She turned her gaze to the floor in preservation, a vampire's thrall wasn't effective enough to hold her for long but it did cause severe damage.

"He marked you." They had nearly forgotten the demigod was in the same room. "That bastard! Touching a Destined with Darkened Magic is forbidden!"

"I had no idea I was a Destined, my powers never came in until I became lost in the Forbidden Woods." Her voice was soft with sadness but still clearly heard. "This means he will have to be put to death doesn't it?"

The silence from the demigod was loud enough in its own right. King Gabriel would pay the price of meddling with the Darkened Magic, the blackest of black magic and required sacrifices of souls and thousands of blood rituals or even contracts with demons. The penalty was raised even more for using the Darkened Magic on a Destined and stunting Marinette’s growth and endangering her life, a Demigod had chosen her and had been denied the right to connect with her because of Gabriel's foolishness.

"You'll rise to your place in the throne then Prince Adrien." 

"You can't be serious, killing my father? For using magic on a witch?" Adrien cried, waving his arm carelessly.

"Boy, Magic Kissed you are but Chosen you are not! I will take you down with him should you choose to go against the wish of the Gods!" Plagg snarled, teeth glinting sharply in the candlelight. 

Adrien started at the show of anger and reacted with fangs bared and eyes darkening to red. The predator was unused to feeling truly like prey, even in front of his father and his fight or flight instinct was set to fight. Marinette hummed herself, layering a few protective spells over herself and Plagg, surprising the demigod enough to whip his head and stare at her in disbelief.

"You're Tikki's chosen…" Adrien calmed a bit and glowered at the two that had suddenly forgotten him.

"I wouldn't know." Marinette whispered, barely heard by either male.

"Look kid, either he dies and you step up to be the man they need you to be or you'll suffer at the end of my claws as well. You have until sundown to decide. Little witchling, I shall keep in touch. There will be three parting gifts in your room and with your smarts you'll put it all together." Plagg bowed slightly, a show of respect to Marientte which had her and Adrien shocked as the demigod disappeared.

"We need to act normal for the time being. I'll see you at dinner." Adrien spoke dismissively, an echo of Gabriel's attitude behind his words. Marinette was left with no choice but to retire to her room.

Her room was alive in the way only a witch could truly achieve, the flora was bursting with healthy green leaves and big bright beautiful blooms. The air carried a weight of the magic she often conjured within the four walls, positive and practice vibes floating playfully past one another to create a safe atmosphere. Little did anyone realize the room itself was enchanted and she could move the entire thing at will, it was difficult as it required a lot of magic but with the help of Moon Water, she could do it and hide away to regain her strength.

"Alright, time to get to work." Marinette opened her chest and humming a light airy tune, the shelves floated off the walls and slowly drifted into the chest, allowing her time to select certain ingredients. Taking a deep breath she changed her tune and her furniture began to shrink and floated into the chest as well. The young witch was about three quarters depleted of her magic, Marinette had suspicions that Gabriel had something to do with it.

"Okay, time to juice up. Just a little bit, nothing major. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all." She muttered under her breath, trying to shake off the sudden nerves. Tapping into the last of her power, Marinette focused on the new moon water and held the clear quartz above it, near breaking concentration as it began to float. Starting a soft hum, the water took a shiny quality and the crystal glowed in response. Very thin multicolored wisps of smoke drifted back and forth, showing a tangible power exchange between both stored magics. Once the water no longer shined and the smoke faded fully, she stopped humming.

"One more step and onto freedom…" Blue eyes took in the half packed state of her room, fingers already reaching for her Amethyst to charge with the Full Moon water. This was easier as there was only a little need for direction, the power was already there and no need to purify or mix with another essence. Gently she placed the crystal to float on top of the water and with a whisper of a chant, the process began.

Marinette moved around the room and tossed the shrunken furniture into the chest, convincing her plants to sleep for the trip and even getting some to shrink into seeds for packing purposes. Once everything was cleared and stored away, the young witch turned back to the crystal and pot, the process about halfway done. Steeling herself, Marinette grabbed a ring she rarely wore when staying inside the castle, strands of gold layered and twisted to form a beautiful rose. This was one of her more precious gifts, it also lent the ability to disguise everything tattletale from vampires.

"Now to make it through dinner… And hopefully out of here alive."

Dinner was a quiet affair, the tension could be felt by even the servants who were speedy about setting down the dishes and retreating as quickly as they could without triggering a chase from an angry vampire.

"I thought King Gabriel was to join us?" Marinette asked politely, forcing herself to enjoy the cooked lamb at a moderate pace.

"Father had some unexpected business to attend to." Adrien had finished sucking his peice dry and moved on to the goblet of blood wine.

"I hope nothing too strenuous."

"Father can handle anything."

Once she was finished, the table was cleared for dessert. The young witch knew this would be her moment as everyone else had left the room and if things were to go south, they would be spared from Adrien's wrath. Gathering courage, she rose from her seated position and bowed slightly.

"If you have a moment to spare, I would like to discuss something with you." 

"So be it, speak your piece." Adrien leaned back in the chair, his persona more and more like his father every day but never closer than in that moment.

"After the events I am resigning from my position as healer for the Agreste Coven."

"Marinette, there's no reason to have this discussion." He sighed heavily and rose from his seat, turning to leave.

"There's no reason for me to be here any longer Adrien. My original reason for employment has been null for a long time. I feel it's time to leave and further my skills, that cannot be done while in here. There's nothing for me to learn." As a human she knew this would trigger what was left of his humanity and kept her breathing even to avoid the blow up 

Adrien spun around suddenly, knocking off the dinnerware from the table. The plate was a near miss from cutting Marientte's bare feet but she stood her ground, after all no matter how nice Adrien was, there was still a predator in his heart. Green eyes blazed with anger and a low snarl ripped from his throat, it had no effect on her after so long of being in his service. "You dare mock me and then presume to leave me!? For the flea bitten mongrel at that?"

"I'd rather lay with that so-called mongrel and risk fleas than be with you a moment longer than I have to." Marinette calmly stated, pulling on her inner strength to not let her ring fail her and reveal how fast her pulse was truly racing.

"What is this really about Marinette? Did I not give you all the splendor and treasures you could want? I let you choose a trade and keep your money from it, supporting you and never asking for you to repay your debt with me. Have I ever hurt you?" Adrien spread his arms dramatically, appearing innocent except for the look of rage taking over his face.

"Adrien. Do not make this a big deal, Plagg is already watching you closely." Praying to the demigod himself that Adrien wouldn't be able to call her bluff. "I am not a prize to be won or fought over, I am most certainly not yours. You have never hurt me nor have I you, please do not change that."

"Then leave, when you get fleas do not come crying to me." Adrien spun and left the dining hall, anger leaking from him.

Marinette wasted no time, teleporting back to her room and casting a cloaking spell on the chest. The transfer was done and quickly she saved the water for both by sealing the collection pots temporarily. The crystals went onto the pouch at her waist, Marinette noticed that there was more than usual and smiled in relief.

"One of three found little witchling. Best hurry to get out of here before my kitten blows a gasket." Plagg commented lazily, floating above the opening of her door.

"Thank you for your watchful eyes Plagg." Dropping into a quick curtsey and drawing a quiet chuckle from the Demigod, the witch finished packing what little was left. Humming brightly, she gasped as the chest shrunk into a perfect sized bracelet. 

"The least I can do to help rectify the wrong that has been done towards you. Mayhaps you should find a mentor that has knowledge of God's and Divination."

"Consider it done! Master Fu told me if i ever needed anything to go see him at the Temple of Heroes." Marinette smiled brightly and with a wink, teleported into the clearing she favored. She miscalculated how drained she was on magic as something solid but somewhat squishy.

"Well lass, did not expect you to fall into my lap quite like this." The werewolf's deep timber caused a shiver to run up her spine.

"Not quite my intention but I do need help and a certain big friendly werewolf would be quite helpful against the big scary vampires."

"Well lassie, you're in luck. Just hang on." He shifted her to his back and she clung on for dear life with a huge smile on her face. Time to live for herself.

[joshslater]

Russian Dolt Multiverse

Continuation of Russian Dolt. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Russian history in four words: then things got worse. Russian story in four worlds:

Universe Один

My first thought was to get a bucket of ice, but I doubt this hotel has an ice machine, and I didn’t really care to put on any clothes just to find out. I walked into the bathroom and let the shower run on the coldest setting. After a minute I had to resign to it not being any cooler, this is the Philippines after all, and begun showering my cock and balls. Who is stupid enough to buy a solid, metal cock ring in the first place? If it wasn’t bad enough cock and ball torture to have a ring on for so many hours, though no idea exactly how many, having it doused in cold water certainly added to the sensory experience. At first nothing happened, but once the ring itself was coming down in temperature I started to see movement, and then it went quickly. The pain when the blood started moving properly was something otherworldly. I’ve had the odd sleeping leg from surfing to much while on the toilet, but this was that times thousand.

I cranked the temperature back up again and just stood there and soaked in the shower, trying to think about as little as possible. When I started to feel like a person again, albeit one who needed a smoke, I realized I should try to freshen up best I could. I’d already ruined some of it by showering hot before using soap, trapping much of the scent of cum and sweat in the pores that had now shut closed by the expanding skin. I still did an attempt using the dinky hotel soap. Shampoo would be pointless, looking like this. When I came to soaping my ass I paused. It didn’t feel right, like my anus was protruding a little. I didn’t hurt though, so I just assumed it was a side effect of the night’s adventure and would sort itself given time.

There wasn’t much to wear, and less I wanted to wear in the room. I found a bottle of body spray and a slightly distressed black T-shirt, that I combined with the jeans and the flip flops from the day before. I didn’t know how long I had the room for, if it was paid in advance, or anything, so I took another look around the room and saw nothing I would miss. The ear studs might be worth something, so I kept them on, and I pocketed the mysterious ring, but everything else I left in the room with the full knowledge it might all have been thrown out by the time I got back.

I really wanted to inhale as deep and as fast as possible, but I forced myself to savor the cigarette I lit as soon as I entered the street. It felt healthier, though it probably was at least as bad. But then the streets in Manila isn’t all that great for lung health either. I had started to walk with no particular goal in mind, but decided to at least have a look at my old hotel. Not because I had any hope of finding anything useful there, but I just didn’t have anything else to do.

With no clear memory of the way, no cellphone to guide and no money to be driven, it took more than an hour to get back. As I’m closing in on the hotel I see someone in my peripheral that looks familiar. Turn and see the hulking body of Boris lumbering towards my destination. He is marginally better dressed than last I saw him, and is carrying a canvas bag. We are quite far apart, and I saw him first, but as soon as he sees me he stops walking. He is just standing there for a good ten seconds, after which he turns and walk the other direction. I want to run up to him and ask him what the fuck they have done with my body, but he is too far away and I’m too damaged after the night’s events. Fuck! Perhaps he was returning to pick something up? I saw no reason to change my plan.

It was fully morning by now, and someone from the bell service at the hotel walked up to me as soon as I entered the lobby, asking if they could help. That was code for “you don’t belong”. I told him I know which room to get to, and thanked my luck this hotel didn’t require any key card for the elevator.

I was somehow hesitant, standing outside my old hotel door. The longer I waited, longer it would take until my fears were confirmed. I made a soft knock on the door.

Nothing happened.

I make a more forceful knock on the door.

As I open my eyes the light hurts. I hear a thud against the door. I look around and see the hotel room I checked in to two days ago. The bed is made, but someone has clearly been lying on it. To my left, on a small table, is a line of small, empty mini bar bottles. I’m just about to scratch my forehead when the faint chime-like rattle of chains made me look at the cuff around my wrist. It takes a moment to click that I am in my body again. My real body.

There is a knock on the door. Unsteadily I walk towards the door and open it. On the other side is Mikhail, rubbing his head. “You could knock first, remove ring not first. Not opposite order.”

The ring! “I removed the ring in your hotel room. Nothing happened.”

“Ah.” Mikhail nodded, and then waved his hand toward the mini bar empties. “Doesn’t work unless both are conscious. I got bored.” He stood still for a bit. “You was not bored. Was good?”

“да“

Universe Два

The rattle of key in keyhole snaps me out of my self pity, and in panic I dive into the bed sheets, only to immediately be reminded of why they are damp and sticky. I hope I can scare away room service before she realizes what a mess the room is in. But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal a tiny Asian lady. Instead a huge German wearing a tank top that barely contain his muscles confidently walks into the room. He carries a few different plastic shopping bags in his large hands. As soon as he sees me his serious face gets brighter with a smile.

“So, you are awake, ja. Schlept gut?” “да, but am sore all over.” “Entschuldigung, but I wanted to be back before you awake, but I got late. I saw your big friend from the bar.” “You met Boris?” “No, I saw him. He was taken by police. Don’t know why. Do you?”

Was this in any way related to me, or why I wasn’t swapping back to my body? Perhaps by just talking to the police this would all be sorted. Or perhaps they are really after Mikhail, and for all practical purposes I am him now. I could be shot before the end of the day.

“No. No idea.” “Gut”

He was smiling again, as he placed the bags on the small table and pulled the sheet that covered me.

“Oh, mein Gott. Your dick color. Hurts, ja?” “Yes. Hurts.”

He dove into one of the bags and pulled out some sort of medicinal cream tube, and a condom pack. He ripped open the condom pack, and used the condom as a glove, squeezed a large dollop of the gel from the tube onto my dick, and started to carefully cover it all with the condomed hand. Working quickly he then moved down and did the same to my balls. “Move less” he said, as if I didn’t understand my squirming made things difficult for him. The pain was however disappearing quickly. “It’s Anästhetikum. Makes it hurt less.”

He then tossed the condom in the trash bucket, grabbed another bag and picked out a few cans of beers and two cups from the top, and placed them on the night stand. Next he picked up a bag of ice, wet with condensation from the humidity. He tore it open, grabbed a fistful of ice, and cupped my dick and balls with it. Amazingly I didn’t feel a thing, except the cold water against my thighs. Only a minute or so later he dunked the remains of the ice in the plastic cups, and I could feel him slipping my dick, and then my nut sack, out of the ring. He put the ring down on the nightstand as well.

“So. You should feel again in one or two hour. Now bier.”

He opened one of the cans and poured into the cups with ice. Dark and foamy. “Bayerisches Bier” he proclaimed proudly, handing me a cup. He emptied his without waiting and promptly refilled it. “Wait for ice to it cool, ja.”

I carefully tasted my beer. It was strong in flavor, high in proof, and cold enough with so much ice in such a small cup. I realized that his eyes were glued on me. Suddenly he lept forward and kissed my mouth forcefully, making me spill half my cup of beer. I managed to put the cup back on the nightstand and wrapped my arms around my German. He kissed me close to asphyxiation before he pulled away. “I want you to move in, ja. Stay in my place.” That came completely unexpected, but I knew I wanted nothing more, just as he said it. What good was a nice apartment if you never saw it? I had enjoyed living as a lone, travelling salesman, but this right here was passion. In a way the choice had already been made for me. With this new body I couldn’t go back to the life I knew.

“I am happy to.” I answered. He noticed that my dick had perked up again, despite what it had been through. He carefully touched it, and I winced. It was bruised and raw, but I still hadn’t cum all night. He stroke my body, and my chin and then got up from the bed. Slowly he stepped out of his camo cargo shorts and his jockstrap, revealing his large, erect cock. He grabbed both my legs and carefully, almost tenderly, moved me towards him and inserted his dick into my abused ass.

Lying on my back our eyes were locked, as he slowly begun to gyrate his hips, moving his dick head back and forth over my prostate. I wanted to resist, but he had obviously set a goal to have me cum as soon as possible. To have my decision sealed not in blood, but in cum. I had been teased all night and it didn’t take much to splatter my body up to my neck in my own cum.

Universe три

I didn’t know what else to expect from the day, so I savored the coffee. Coffee and cigarette is such a cliche, but I’ve never been a smoker before. When I tried smoking in school once I hadn’t yet tasted coffee. But now everything made so much sense. One might argue I shouldn’t spend my last cash on a coffee, but I would argue there is no point saving such small amounts.

With the cup completely dry, it was time to figure out what to do next. The hotel wasn’t far off. I’d seen it while looking for a place to affordably drink a coffee. The hotel wasn’t one such place though , so I found this little cafe to have a calm moment before facing reality. The hot and humid air hit me as soon as I exit the cool cafe and walk the block down to the hotel.

As I enter the hotel lobby there is a weird vibe. A few guests are scattered around, and mostly ignores me, but the staff is pretending to not stare. I guess I am out of place, looking the way I do.

I take the elevator to my floor. As I exit I immediately see one of the cleaning carts from the room service standing by my door. Shit. I should have tried to come earlier, before they erased all clues. As I get closer I see the door opposite my room is opened, and my door handle still has a “Do not disturb” sign on it. I sigh a slight relief and knock on the door.

It takes just a second and the door swung in, and before I had a chance to see who was opening it something hit me in the back, pushing me tumbling forward. Someone grabbed my shoulders slowed my fall from totally crashing into the floor. There was something pushing hard on my back, just below the neck. I could feel my arms pulled together, and then cuffed. People were talking Filipino, a radio squeaked, someone was pressing something against my fingers, and I could only see boots and tactical trousers.

Just as I started to comprehend that the police had me arrested, I was lifted to my feet and pushed out of the room. Two police men were marching me towards the elevator, down through the lobby and out into a waiting police car. I asked “What is happening?”, “Where are you taking me?” and similar questions with obvious and useless answers, until one of them told me to shut up

We sat in silence in the car for what felt like 20 minutes, when finally a plain clothes officer approached the car. The driver lowered the window, and I assume for my benefit, the plain cloths officer spoke in English.

“It’s him. His fingerprints are all over the cuffs.”

Universe четыре

I was utterly confused when I woke up in a hotel bed, but then memories started trickle in. The body swap. I clearly was still in Mikhail’s body, I knew, because I could feel it. I felt sore. Wait, why was I still in Mikhail’s body? Looking around I could see I was in the bed in his shitty hotel room, no German to be found. I got up while the whole body was screaming in agony. The bed sheets were pretty much ruined with semen and other fluids. What a mess. My head throbbed with a hangover worse than I have ever experienced before. I stumbled over to the mirror.

Young, muscled, and well-hung were the bright side of what I saw. Everything else I saw in the mirror disgusted me, even more now than when I swapped into it yesterday. I was naked except for the thumb ring and a cock ring. The dick and balls looked bruised, a dangerously purple color. I tentatively touched the dick and pleasure tinged pain shot through my body. It was swollen and had a dull ache, but a small part of me even wanted to play with this dick some more, as I was still horny as fuck. I didn’t remember cumming. I didn’t even dare to think about the agony it would be to remove that cock ring. My thoughts went to the other ring. I’ve had enough of this. It was time to end this experience, exciting as it might have been.

I removed the ring.

Immediately I looked down at my face. It had the wrong color. The mouth was open, the eyes bloodshot and the chain from the handcuff was wrapped around the throat. In horror I let go of the chain and stepped away from the body. It looked dead. The neck looked weird, as if the chain had broken something inside of it.

I stumbled, hit a desk, and almost cried out. The body was unfamiliar and bulky. I looked into the mirror on the wall above the desk. Staring back at me was the Russian brick shithouse made of meat, Boris.

The sensation was completely different from Mikhail, and not just in the obvious way of being taller and beefier, or the lack of bruising from a night of rough sex. There were no cravings to smoke or drink. This guy must have treated himself well, but then you don’t get a body like this if your don’t.

The irony of that thought made me chuckle out loud. I hadn’t done anything to get his body. Why was I in it? I removed the leather glove and looked at my hand. One of those rings were on the thumb. I look at my dead body’s hand. No ring. Whatever he had been up to, he had managed to swap me into his body and probably him into Mikhail’s body.

I started to feel dread. Whatever reason he had for doing this was not going to be good for me, I felt. I needed to leave the hotel right away. I resisted the urge to take any of my belongings with me. Clothes were worthless, phone and computer could probably be tracked. I didn’t really have any money in the wallet, just cards, and any use of them could also be tracked.

There was a canvas bag on the floor I didn’t recognize. I picked it up and exited the room. There were no cameras in the corridor that I could see. I took the stairs on floor down, put the gloves in the bag. Then I took the elevator down to the lobby and tried my best to look as calm as possible while walking out. In my mind I was screaming “I didn’t murder myself, it was this body.”

Not far from the hotel I saw a cafe, and apparently I had plenty of cash in my wallet, so I decided for a coffee. Only a few sips in I could tell this body wasn’t used to that, and I was in for a massive shit within the hour. Let’s add that to the list of problems. If it isn’t the police that will get me, it is whatever Boris was running from.

[orange-waterfalls]

The Deal Part 2

Illinois x gender neutral!reader

@lawfluff-evil ty for the prompt(again)

A/N: asfsggsgdg I'm so happy people liked the first part! I was so worried! Rated T for cursing. My fics keep getting longer lol. A bit OOC at the end but.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Mark drives you and Illinois to a nearby town, where you hear about treasures in a cave at the bottom of a mountain. You're kind of confused about why there are so many caves with treasure in them, but Illinois seems fine, so you don't worry about it. While in the town, a little girl hands you a golden necklace.

"Una ofrenda*!" She says excitedly. You ruffle her hair and thank her. She smiles and runs off to her mother. Illinois watches you the whole time, but when you turn to look at him, he looks away. Illinois gathers his adventure things, you gather your will to live, and you prepare to head off. Mark stops you.

"Listen… I don't want you to die… but if you do…" he starts. You set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Mark, you're still in my will," you tease. He chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah…" he hugs you tightly. "Be careful." You pull away and snap your fingers, pointing fingers guns at him.

"Not likely," he laughs and you wave at each other. You run up to Illinois. You both enter the cave.

As you walk, you notice Illinois glances at you throughout. You don't point it out, though. He takes a couple longer strides and walks in front of you. He turns to you and walks backwards.

"So… that Mark fella…" he starts. "He's, uh… bold…" You laugh.

"My best friend, as you know. Has no impulse control. I was a bit worried you'd be a violent type." You explain.

"Nah, I ain't violent. Unless... someone'd want me to be." He winks, and you hear a whip-crack. You begin to wonder if that's just a thing that happens or you're losing your mind. You roll your eyes.

"No thanks, I'm good." You sigh. He smirks and turns around.

"Y'know, I'm surprised. Usually my partners only stay for one adventure but… you came looking for me." He chuckles. "That's some determination you got there."

"Eh, I felt like you'd want the diamond. No big deal." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow.

"And why exactly didn't you just keep it?" He asks.

"It… felt like the right thing to do," you explain hesitantly. "I happen to be an advocate for justice and fairness." He laughs.

"Oh, alright then." He says teasingly. You flush.

You arrive at a point and he puts a hand in front of you, blocking you from walking. You look at him, confused. He jerks his head towards the ground. You look down and see sand.

"Quicksand..." You sigh. "Why is it always quicksand?"

"Don't get scared, now," he smiles. He takes out a whip and it wraps around a vine near the top of the cave he swings over the sand. He takes his whip down. "Now I think I might be able to-" you drop next to him. He stares at you before blinking. He opens his mouth but no words come out at first. Eventually, they do. "How did…?"

"Grapple," you hold up your grappling hook. "I did rob a museum yesterday." He nods and wraps his whip on his belt.

"Impressive, I'll give you that." He looks back at the vine and smirks. "How're we gonna get back, though?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"What do you-" you cut yourself off as you see the vine, broken. You look down at the grappling hook and groan. Illinois chuckles and pats your shoulder.

"Rookie mistake, it's alright," he says.

"But how are we gonna get back?" You repeat his question. He shrugs.

"I don't know. But it'll be alright. It always is," he winks again with that whip sound and you wonder if you should ask him about it. You decide not to, in case you sound like a crazy person.

You continue to walk, making small conversation along the way. He continues to flirt with you, making you blush. You're starting to get sick of it. You contemplate flirting back, but you only have cheesy pick up lines, and your sure he doesn't want to hear those. You end up at a floor of pressure plates with a door on the other side. Each of the plates has a symbol on them, and there's a plaque on the ground that most likely tells you what the pattern is supposed to be. That would be useful, if either of you could read the scratched up and weathered words.

"This is ridiculous," you growl. "What are we supposed to do?" Illinois looks across the floor for a second before taking a step.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" You yell. He doesn't answer and continues taking random steps across the floor, activating many booby traps-none of which even scratch him-before landing in front of the door. He turns back towards you.

"Well? What're you waiting for?" You gape at him before inhaling deeply and taking a step. A large axe swings in front of your face, barely missing your nose. You step back.

"No. No! It's not worth it. I won't." You turn around and start to walk back to the entrance. Illinois sighs.

"Yeah, I understand. You're just too scared." You stop dead in your tracks. Of course you were scared. Was he implying that facing certain death on a daily basis didn't scare him? Oh, no, no, no, no. You were not giving up that easy, if that was the case. You spin back around. He's looking at you with a smug grin. You narrow your eyes and step back on a plate, the same as before. The axe swings again. This time you continue to step, one foot in front of the other, in a straight line to the door. Your eyes are closed and your walk is casual. You can hear multiple traps being activated as you step. Eventually, you're stopped by something solid.

The door you conclude in your head. But when you open your eyes and look, you see Illinois, right there in front of you.

"Hey there…" He raised and eyebrow. You jump back and clear your throat, blushing.

"S-Sorry about that…" you stutter. He turns towards the door, and you stand next to him.

"Now, how do you suggest we go about opening this?" He asks. You look at the top of the door. There are words, but again, you can't read them because of how worn and scratched they are. You sigh, frustrated. Illinois sets a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sure the answer will come if we calm down for a moment." He consoles. You huff and plop to the ground. You turn your back to the door and lean on it. Illinois sits next to you. You sit in silence for a couple minutes before you start talking. Nothing too important, just basic small talk. You two continue like that until you start going deeper in your conversation. You start to talk about friends and family, which leads to those you've loved and lost. You talk about friends who've left and family who've died. He talks about previous partners.

"Most of them left. Some of them I still talk to occasionally. I lost a few of them during adventures, though." He knits his eyebrows and looks down. "I always think about them when I meet someone new." You set your hand on his. He looks up at you, surprised. You smile warmly, and he does the same. You stay like that for a moment before he retracts his hand and stands up.

"Well! This has been fun but we should head back." He starts to walk back across the floor, narrowly avoiding traps. You clumsily stand up.

"Wait, what about the door?!" You yell. He lands on the other side and looks back at you.

"We can't open it, there's no problem. We can head back." He shrugs. You squint at him.

"That's… not very 'adventurey' of you…" you say accusingly. He sets his hands on his belt.

"Look, we've been here for a while, we can't think of anything let's just go." Your eyes widen.

"You're scared." You conclude. He scoffs.

"What-"

"You're scared that something's gonna happen to me, so you wanna leave!" You yell. "I'm not stupid! I can take care of myself!" He clenches his fists.

"Fine! Do whatever! I'm fine by myself!" He says angrily. He walks off and you turn back towards the door. You look around for any sign of anything you're supposed to do. You see a small dent in the wall next to the door. You walk over to it and trace the dent.

"Wait…" you squint. You fumble around in your pocket for a moment before taking out the necklace from the little girl. You put it in the dent and the door starts to glow and slide open. Illinois, who was walking much slower than usual, hears the door opening and spins around, running back to where you are. He swings around the corner. You hear him and look back.

"Oh," he says, "maybe you are smart." You smile at each other. He steps across the floor, but the traps don't activate anymore. You grab the necklace and you both walk through the door. You end up in a giant room with a bag in the center.

"Oh, this seems familiar…" you mumble. He chuckles.

"I've got this one," he takes a bag that looks exactly like the one in the room out of his pocket.

"How did you…" you start. He looks back and you, confused. You hold your hands up. "Nevermind." He turns back and kneels in front of the bag. He slowly takes the bags and swaps them. You both stay still for a moment before sighing.

"Well, that went better than expected," Illinois laughs. You smile and look over at the bag, noticing it sink into the floor.

"Um… Illinois?" You say hesitantly. He tilts his head at you before looking back at the bag.

"Oh no," you both look up and see a giant boulder rolling towards you both. Illinois grabs your hand and pulls you out the door. You both run through the cave, the boulder tailing behind.

"What is it with you and boulders?!" You yell.

"An adventurer thing, I guess." Illinois shrugs. You roll your eyes. You both end up at the quicksand again. You start to hyperventilate.

"Illinois, what do we do?!" You ask, panicked.

"Pray," He takes a deep breath and just runs faster. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel something sticky at your feet before continuing to run. You open your eyes and see that you both have lost your footwear.

"Huh." You laugh, "That went better than I had expected," Illinois smirks. You both run until you end up at the entrance of the cave, jumping behind a nearby rock as the boulder stops at the entrance. You both sit there panting for a moment.

"Well… that was… fun," Illinois says. You laugh in disbelief.

"Illinois, you seem like a cool guy, but I don't think my heart can take this," you groan. He grins.

"Yeah… I thought so." He sighs. His grin falls slightly. You tap your leg.

"But…" you start. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows. "You could always come visit if you're ever in town for an adventure," you suggest. He smiles.

"Yeah. I'd like that." You smile widely and write your address on his hand with a marker before grabbing his wrist and dragging him away. "C'mon, Mark will wanna see what's in the bag!" You two walk to the car, where Mark is cleaning it. He looks at you two and smiles. You let go of Illinois' hand as you hug Mark.

"Oh, thank God," He sighs, "I thought I was gonna have to tell your parents you died because of an off-brand Indiana Jones," "Excuse me?" Illinois narrows his eyes. Mark opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him.

"HEY I found treasure, let's see what it is!" You take the bag from Illinois and open it. All three of you look inside to see black rocks.

"Really? Again?" Illinois growls. He starts to walk away but you grab his shoulder.

"Remember what happened last time, Illinois," you say. He raises an eyebrow. You dump the contents of the bag onto the ground to find colorful jewels under the rocks. Illinois smiles.

"Well, would you look at that!" Mark laughs.

"So, since you figured out how to open the door, you get half the treasure plus the diamond." He sighs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but, a deal's a deal." He splits the number of jewels in half, and puts his half back into the bag and into his pocket. "Was nice to meet you both." He salutes and starts to leave. You grab his wrist and he looks back at you.

"You'll… you'll actually visit, right?" You ask hopefully.

"Of course. I don't meet someone like you every day, y'know." he winks. You flush and smile.

"Alright. Well, Mr. Adventure, I really like you," you say confidently. He blinks. You take that as a cue to continue. "So…" you walk towards him, still holding his wrist. "Are you gonna do something about that, or will I have to?" His cheeks are dusted pink as he sputters. You smile and kiss him gently on the cheek. He freezes as his face turns a darker shade of pink. He clears his throat.

"W-Well uh… I better, uh… get… going…" He walks backwards and almost trips over a rock, but stands back up and walks away. You and Mark laugh as you gather your jewels and get into the car. You both sigh.

"Ready to go home?" He asks.

"Absolutely," You laugh. He starts to drive and you look out the window, excited for the next time Illinois visits.

"So…" Mark starts, "Did you... hear the whip-crack sound effect when he winked?"

"THANK GOD you hear it too."

---

*An offering!

I got self conscious from rereading so I just queued it in 1st period lol

[kpop-bg-roleplay]

(I've decided to send all of our replies in one here for an overview so far! The rest of our rp is going through asks!)

Finding the same nine people you were joking around during the day, carrying weaponry and dealing with drugs in a dimly lit alley way was more than a shock to your system. The first to acknowledge your presence was Hyerin, and holy hell did her expression carry a complete 180' from how she looked that morning. Was this really the same person? "Elise, what are you doing snooping around? The night is a dangerous place."

-----

"I was about to go home actually", I answered her while holding my grocery bag slightly tighter in my hands at the scene in front of me. "What did you do to those people?", I asked the whole as my body language showed tensed up shoulders, ragged breath, pupils widened and having an even more paled up face than usually. The scene in front of me could be out of a crime scene. Bodies on the ground and only the guys I've called my so called friends standing in the middle of it.

------

All she did was look at Hongjoong, who immediately caught onto what she was thinking about and ordered the others to get back in the group car. Joining his right-hand, Hongjoong rolled his eyes, "None of your business, unless you'd rather get scarred."

------

"Alright. I've never seen anything", I asked him as I morphed my face completely blank despite my stiff posture before looking behind me briefly and then making my way, passing the car while only shaking my head in dissappointment at Hyerin.

------

They had no other business that night, and returned to the car before Seonghwa drove back to the cafe. Sighing as they all walked inside, Yunho  needed very little incentive to gather intel on you; you had found them out - in a way - after all.

------

"I'm home", I called out and walking inside my house to sort my groceries inside the fridge. I didn't hear anything besides the Amazon Echo greeting me back. Walking inside the living room to turn the lights on, with a beer glass in my hand I then went ahead to recall the memories of what happened a few hours ago. The bodies on the ground, Hyerin and the others being completely different from how I know them and knowing now that they're somehow involved in something criminal, I've decided to stay away from them as good as possible.

------

Finding your location, then everything else about you was easy. Yunho scoffed as he made his way through your systems, who actually kept Echoes? Especially when they're such easy targets. Yeosang couldn't have agreed more as he rerouted through the smart devices in your home, the data falling in his lap like candy. Meanwhile, Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Hyerin were in the leader's office discussing what they would do with you. Leave you and possibly risk having you reveal them to the police, or keep you under watch.

------

"And... another night alone with no friends to help me finish my food from yesterday", I sighed softly to myself as I looked at the time and walking upstairs to the attic. I opened the door to reveal hundreds rolls of paintings I've been doing in the past. When you walk upstairs, you can smell the plastic mixed in with a white substance called C17H21NO4 or for the Day to Day person between us, Cocaine. I use that particular powder in my paintings, hidden in the pigments and the paper that can be used to smoke it as a cigarette or joint. I've had some encounters indirectly with the dealers from BigHit and Pledis but had managed to keep my name clean up until now. I've started early with selling it in the black market as dupes for certain museums. The actual thieves swapped them out with mine and I can still see one of the not caught paintings in the next Art museum. Nobody has to know that unless they start to actually burn the paintings that most of these are priceless. I always have them in big jars that are labeled as Sugar and Flour, one being more intense than the other but the results are mostly the same.

The thing is, I started at the age of 15. I was stupid and unknowingly sold them online to finance my living expenses for some pocket money after my escape from the organization. Then I found out about it through an unknown source that works for those people and...here I am. Not even Hyerin knows about it, because I always lock the attic and most people wouldn't be assuming that there are illegal drug paintings in there in the first place anyways. She never seemed to be interested in it and asked me questions.

Here I am, making sure that my newest painting gets sold online as the address is always changing in alphabetical order. It can't be the same route as it's another drug dealers territory and he's a scary bulky man that I ALMOST broke his nose when we were talking the first time I've put it in there. I got away with a few bruises anyways, no big deal.

A few days since then passed after the encounter that they're in the mafia and I kept my distance with each member of Hyerins friend group. I went the other way when I heard familiar steps, excuse myself from attending classes and turning in my assignments online, and I ignored Hyerins texts and calls as good as I can. But...the Mafia people are persistent more than the scam callers or mild inconveniences on the street to make you donate to a charity.

I heard my bell ring one night on a Saturday, while I was finishing my painting for the night. I kept the door to my attic open and walking downstairs with my mask on before opening up. Well, it wasn't for sure the neighbors that got my packages or the delivery guy I've been waiting on for 20 minutes. It's them. And I immediately tried to close the door shut.

------

A week's worth of research, intelligence gathering and hacking on part of Yunho and Yeosang had paid off. And they weren't in the mood to be patient. In silent agreement, Seonghwa and Mingi kicked the door down together, the group walking in with a beyond intimidating presence. "Gather everything of value, I want to see this place ransacked, understand?" Hongjoong ordered, no room in his tone for debate. Hyerin seemed to have taken an interest in the jars, and began to walk towards you, "Interested in the world of narcotics, are we? How fascinating." Her words weren't scary on their own, but with a handgun in her hand and the more than evident danger she carried with her, Hyerin could induce a nightmarish fear in even the most hardened individuals.

------

"Do whatever you want, but if you want to take something... you have to pay for it first", I began saying and being to list all of the prices at each item they're holding, "You". I pointed at Mingi first who's holding my lamp, "I got it from Ikea for 25,99€ plus the light switch. You". I pointed to Hyerin as she's taking an interest in my jars of cocaine, "That includes highly concentrated cocaine and because it's opened it's going to be released in the air around us that will get us addicted. It's also 3000€ worth per kilograms. You." I then pointed at Yunho and Yeosang, "Individual paintings are worth 5000€ each, customized fakes are 10.000€ and up worth. The the ones you're holding are for my customers that pay lots of it and if you want to snatch it it's 40 Million€ worth. You". I pointed at San and Wooyoung carrying out my pigments, "I made these myself and they're mixed with the cocaine. I would say 500.000 in total and You."  I pointed at Hongjoong and Seonghwa that is taking a sit on my couch, "390€ and 5.99€ each of the pillows. And lastly, you." I looked over Jongho with a tired sigh, "Please don't raid my fridge...". I sighed softly before doing the math in my head, "That'll be 4.518.421,98€, please. I take checks too". And despite being terrified of every member of the Mafia people, I managed to sit down on the couch to cross my arms over my chest. Until I got a gun against my temple, which made me raise an eyebrow. My forehead started to sweat, my hands got clammy and my throat dried up immensely but I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "What are you going to do with me once you took everything out of my house and killed me? I mean, I didn't tell anyone about your hidden secret,Hyerin. I've lived my life in peace and didn't meddle in on your business. Don't you think that I deserve a different death than a gun against my head?", I began to speak slowly and looking at her direction with a small smile despite her glaring that already killed me, "I want to be killed in a different way, not like that"

------

Maybe the three eldest of Ateez had a twisted sense of mercy, or maybe they were interested, but once Hongjoong had processed how much money you could possibly bring in, he was at Herin's side, whispering in her ear. With an amused smirk, Hyerin put the gun back in the holster and chuckled, "Since my friend here is so~ interested in your works, Hongjoong thinks I should let you go." Her laugh was dangerous, as she called for the the others to bring the artworks to the van. Walking to you, Hongjoong crossed his arms, "You'll make us quite a bit of profit, you'll be pretty useful with us. " He remarked, voice twinged with interest. How much could you make them? Well, that was for them to find out. And it would cost you absolute loyalty to the mafia, and Seonghwa was still unsure whether you'd be a good fit.

------

"I choose death please", I replied blankly and sighing softly as I immediately shake my head at their direction and pointing at Hyerins gun, "Please shoot me, or roll me over with your car or burn me alive. Anything to satisfy your twisted fake conceptions of sadism."

------

A dark, slightly seductive (well, to the others, with you, who knew?) chuckle fell from the other female in the room, as she ran her tongue over her lips. Fuck, that was hot. Sadism? That would her be middle name. "Oh, oh~ I haven't been in the Crimson ward in so long~ maybe I should give our little friend here a personal tour?" She taunted, flicking your chin with the tip of her nails. "I agree with Hongjoong, let's take this one with us."

------

"Careful, I bite", I played along with with her and holding her cheek gently to kiss her forehead lightly, "But I would rather go ahead and begin suicide than leaving my house in the middle of the night. I can't leave physically this place, unless you want me to paint ugly paintings that aren't worth lots of money? I wonder what would happen if I just killed myself now?"

------

Okay, you were a brave one. Amused, Hyerin pulled you to your feet by you collar and whispered, her breath fanning your neck, "From now on, your life is in my hands, understand that? And don't you worry about the quality, you'll have a much better studio for your art." She saw something in you, and she wanted to harness that. The other members had long since emptied the apartment of your artworks, and they were in the van. They'd definitely sell to the highest bidder, and my God there were crooked curators who'd kill to get hands on your art.

------

"Let me say goodbye before I go", I requested to her and gently taking her hands off my collar to take a few steps back. "Would you be kind and wait outside? I won't take long", I added with a small smile that seemed almost too forced but I refused to cry infront of anyone

------

"Very well. Make it quick, and don't you dare think about running." Hyerin replied simply, her arms folded at her chest. Reading emotions was no effort, and it was clear you had no intention of streaking your face with tears in their presence. Walking by the door, she gave you one last look before she stepped outside, silently ordering the soldiers in the other cars to surround the building. Trying to flee wouldn't be a good idea, nor would breaking the miniscule amount of trust Hyerin had granted you.

------

Walking to my room that I usually put in my clothes in my luggage, I somehow played it off with no suspicion whatsoever for now. Taking out a piece of paper to then start writing a note to people who are going to be searching for me, at least I hoped that someone would care about me in my friend group. I sighed softly as I kept it short and simple to write down a simple note of me being taken away to a remote place for awhile. Wiping my tears away from my eyes as I hide the note in between the broken cracks of the house, I walked out of my room to do a last room tour to then join the group again. "My luggage, here's also my ID... I don't think I need it anymore from now on", I mumbled and avoiding their eyes as good as I can while handing my belongings to them. Walking over to the trunk, I willingly climb in to avoid talking to anyone as good as possible.

------

By the  time you stepped inside the trunk, the others had all piled in and were more than just a little impatient to get back. Taking the wheel, Seonghwa pressed his foot on the gas and soon you found yourself on the way back to the...cafe? The Twilight Cafe was probably the most innocent looking cafe on the street, and that's where they were returning to?

What?

Parking round the back, the members all filed out, entering the cafe and taking a seat. The three eldest remained, ordering the soldiers to bring your belongings into the main part of the building, and Hongjoong pulled you out of the trunk, a bored stare in his eyes.

"You'll be escorted to the living quarters. Don't cause any trouble; I'm not looking to get my gun out right now."

------

"Yes, Sir", I replied in a small whisper, following the people inside while keeping a straight face. I couldn't even hide my stiff posture, how I'm holding my hands behind my back as if I'm a prisoner and the bloodied underlip that I've bit on the whole time. It didn't help my situation at this point on how my stomach started to rumble loudly during the ride and how nauseated I'm feeling due to motion sickness.

I didn't look around the cafe at all, too scared to anger even more people and knowing that I'm not going to get my freedom back at all is the worst thing that could be happening to a human being. I know that I'm fucked at this point. Sometimes I wished to be not able to draw or paint, maybe then I'd be a normal person with a bright future.

'I want this nightmare to end already... please help me', I thought to myself almost desperately and started to pray in my head already. I'm thinking of ending my life at this point, ending the pain and start somewhere new. I think it's out of question right now and the pressure only pumped up my adrenaline rush in my system. My survival instincts are tingling and my heart beats even louder than a hammer against a wall.

The steps stopped ultimately, and I snapped out of my trance. It's a small room, enough to sleep in and change your clothes. Plus an attached bathroom, that didn't have security cameras. I'm slightly thankful for it at least, they give me the privacy to an extent. I didn't think much of what happened afterwards, nodding along the order for tomorrow and I was finally alone. Alone as I can get, at least.

So I quickly walked inside the bathroom to get everything out of my system and let my guard down. I cried in silence, hugging my knees and hiding behind my hands to muffle out my sobs. "I want to...go home", I whispered gently to myself and swallowing thickly, my body started to shake violently due to the pressure. I'm currently having a panic attack and I couldn't control it entirely. For some reason, I managed to pass out on the bed, shaking violently to the core and desperately trying to stay conscious to not cause even more problems.

------

Once you had been escorted from the initial cafe space, Hyerin immediately got up, getting her phone to discuss the latest findings with the financial heads at KQ -one of which she was a deputy to. There was much to discuss. And she'd definitely have to work overnight to draft up a reasonable report to KQ.

Among all the staff that walked around the complex, one stood out. Younger than Ateez's youngest, a high rank that almost rivalled Ateez themselves. With a tablet in hand, she walked through the dorms until she arrived at your rooms, a mutter of 'this wasn't used before...' coming from her.

She entered your room, making no announcement that she was entering. Maybe she had received similar training to the mafia members themselves, because her presence was palpable in the air. She tsked when she saw your condition, placing her tablet on the windowsill and walked over to you.

"Come to your senses, you've been brought here and you need to hurry up and accept it. Now what's you name? I have to provide KQ with accurate reports."

------

"Elise Liddell, Ma'am. I would appreciate it if I could use this night to eventually finish my mental break down until tomorrow morning", I answered her as quickly as possible, almost making it sound that I've rapped and my still shaking body leaning towards the cold wall. Wiping my tears away from my eyes, I avoided her gaze despite listening to her instructions intensely. "I'm just an ordinary artist, my paintings aren't real to be original.", I continued further, then quieting down as I don't want to spill out more information about myself and why I'm even doing my current profession as follows. 'Over my dead body, I'll be free in no time, even if I have to plot against them somehow', I thought, straightening my posture and eventually looking at the person nearby the windowsill. "What am I supposed to do tomorrow morning? I have to go to college and I don't want to be raising suspicion over my disappearence that soon", I asked her, coughing slightly as the crying made me thirsty, yet knowing that those bastards are going to love it to see me dying of dehydration soon.

------

The girl almost laughed. Almost. Scoffing, she tilted her head and gave you an overly sweet smile. But her eyes held something much, much more dangerous. "I'm not going to stop your precious little mental breakdown, go right ahead~."

The very idea that Ateez had someone as young as the girl in front of you working with them definitely seemed off.  Shouldn't she at least be in school? Reaching for her tablet, she was quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes.

"Ateez will take care of that. If you require something to drink I will put in a notice for the staff to provide a water dispenser."

------

"The absence of me entering college should be because I got either pregnant and have to leave due to my VISA or because I'm going back to Germany to fulfill one of the courses there. Any other reason isn't acceptable at all", I sighed softly and nodding slowly at the water dispenser for my casual use. "Anything else that I need to know?"

------

All she did was roll her eyes. It wasn't her problem, neither did she care. Whatever excuse they came up with would have to be the one you accepted. "You're not to enter Hongjoong, Seonghwa or Hyerin's office without letting either them or myself know beforehand." About to continue, her focus is drawn to someone calling her name.

"Minnie, you're needed in Seonghwa's office."

"Okay Kai, I'll be there."

At least you knew her name. Leaving the room and shutting the door behind her, you were left to your own devices, and thoughts, again.

------

'If she's going to tell them what excuse they should use in order to get me out of there, they also don't know who I'm close in contact too.', I thought to myself, drinking the water that Kai brought earlier to then walk to the bathroom and using some of the time to clean myself up as good as possible. The room had my luggage inside and instead of hyperventilating the whole time, I looked straight at the camera to flip off with my perfectly long nails to the person who watches me now. The ordering process of my stuff, made me calm down just a little bit, despite the shaky hands and the low blood pressure I'm feeling on my body the whole time. I sighed softly to myself, taking out my Notebook to write down the first informations about today.

----

Holy shit I forgot how long our responses were. Also I am practically gonna include eveny group I stan in this plot.

The rest of the complex was active, like a city that never slept. Throughout the night, footsteps rang through the building, staff - and some of Ateez themselves - working the night shift, keeping all operations stable. One location in particular that was lit up like daylight was the camera and intel rooms, where Yunho was asleep on a bed in the back, while Yeosang watched the moniters with his team, rolling his eyes as he checked the camera in your room. Thank God he’d only have to keep that camera installed for another few weeks. Watching new arrivals for their three month probation period was a pain, and more often than not he left the task to some unsuspecting staff. And that’s exactly what he did.

“Hey, Yang Jungwon, watch our new arrival, I need a smoke break.”

“Y-Yes Sir!”

[tslasvegas]

Episode 4: “I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty.” - Keegan

Dan and JAKE! A WORD IN MY OFFICE PLEASE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS.

Wow! Today was A Day to say the least. I feel like boo boo the fool with how things went down today, but hopefully, I can recover from that now that there’s a new tribe. I’m excited to get to know new people, but sad to see my old alliances have to come to an end. I guess we’ll see what happens

Finally a swap and golly 5 OG Palazzo! I really hope this works in our favor. Kinda nervous for Joey and Stephanie tho because now they are in the minority of their tribe. I do hope they’ll find a way to survive till merge

LMFAO IM... watching the tribal council for the other tribe and I'm SORRY??? Who the fuck is Jake S he is the most condescending man I've ever seen in my entire life YIKES. Anyways this swap is nice.. I think I've got a good group, I really hope we win the next few immunities because I 1) really dont want to see Rachael on this tribe and 2) i want to try and rebuild my um. tattered relationships. I did the best I could in the challenge for tonight, I'll try to come back tomorrow a little more renewed cus I'm kinda wiped out from today's events. Now that my tribal council cherry has been popped for this Org its time to go crazy woop

So good not to check Luxor anymore! 

Well last tribal went fine, I got to see what was in the Prize Vault which is awesome; now I have a better idea of the twist. Big problem though- Our swap put me in the minority. I was running Luxor and had a core 4, now they have 5 OG Pink so they can pluck us off, one at a time. I went from drivers seat to getting driven over. We need to win the challenge, so I'm gonna go ham in winterbells and hope to pull it out.

We swapped! I think I made a confessional already, but honestly I don't remember. I gave Livingston some of my chips so he can go visit the vault after the immunity challenge. We'll see what is in there and for how much, and maybe snatch up some real nice items to help us out. I've also got Andrew on my side, which is great and he's apparently quite tight with Pat, which is fantastic. Mo is a pretty decent dude and I've been talking with Jake a lot today. Things are going alright. I just hope we can win this challenge. 

Phew, while the swap was not ideal. I was really liking my tribe, we were kind of quiet but individually everyone was great and we also kicked butt at challenges! Anyway, the swap with numbers wise not great, but I know Xavi from a previous game and we have a solid relationship, I hope he and John and Joey and myself can build a solid squad to make it to the merge. The challenge was rough tbh, I am not great at video games, but I think I did ok... Jaiden got like 20 trillion points on a game so really I have no idea how I did. Hoping for the best!

I am losing my mind in my personal life so I am sorry that I have been mia. I appreciate the patience from the hosts and my tribe. It makes me still want to play even though I've been kinda invisible. I'm aware of that. I'll fix it. I promise. Otherwise, its been pretty good as a tribe so far. Andrew, Pat, and NIk and i are all really close from other games, so we're good and Andrew and Pat and I are together, which is just really unfair if you ask me. I can't wait to start scheming!

Uhhhhhh.................................... anyways........ yall hear somethin? Oh I hear something. It's the sound of Joey literally blowing himself up to me hardcore!!!! The narcissism and arrogance really jumped out on this one. So Joey had the idea of calling tonight to go over some stuff and honestly out of the 2 hours we spent, I think about 45-60 mins of it was rather nice and I do feel that I enjoy his presence, but omg... his desire for control is so noticeable and its kinda gross. Joey and I debriefed on what went down on Bellagio and I totally understand why there was the difference in us discussing tribe dynamics - I had to give up all my info while he kinda kept things more reserved. I want to assume this is because of the fact that I went to tribal and he hasn't until now. I won't judge him for that. However, after this he's kinda like dictating the fact that an OG Bellagio needs to go home. Ben is the easier person to throw under the bus since he didn't even bother to do the challenge/let us know what's up. Not a big fan of that, but aight. Then Joey starts suggesting we vote out Kailyn...?? Uh... not on my watch. I have to make it up to Kailyn at least a little bit so even though she's probably got a loaded gun pointed at my head rn, I want to defuse the situation rather than start throwing her out there as a potential target. Even if it isn't coming from me, I'm not here for that. The information that Joey did give up to me relates to the chips in the game. I've never paid much attention to the chips, but I guess it takes 10 to get into the vault and Joey's got between 11 and 15 (he changed his answer on the subject SEVERAL times). He says there are three idols worth 40 chips each, then a super idol worth I think 50 or 60 (can't remember). On top of that, there are nullifiers, vote advantages, and a legacy advantage, too. He seems fixated on the legacy advantage and really wants the chips to get it. Like.. ok do you but we NEED the super idol?? Does he not realize that thing has more power than anything else in the vault combined..? ANYWAYS. What really started to turn me off about Joey is that there was this sudden expectation that I'd be giving him all of my chips thus far. I don't care about them to begin with but knowing what I know now, it doesn't make sense for me to give him my stash just to fuel his hunt for... a measly legacy advantage... I put myself in a compromising position. I told him that once a host gets back to me on my exact total, I'd be willing to trade him my chips for I guess an allyship going forward. I mean that. I want to work with Joey at least through this vote, but I can't guarantee that it'll go much further than that. He is a very risky person for my game right now because if he's coming off this strong to everybody, it's only going to hurt me by association to stick with him longer than a vote or two. However, I'm going to try and divert the attention and just be like, maybe we need to use my five as a bartering piece for new allies at this point. I want to try and build meaningful partnerships right now, especially since that was the only reason I wanted to make it to the merge.. Rebuilding is crucial as well. Kailyn and possibly Nik/Rachael are not going to be fond of me once we all have "the talk" about last tribal. I put myself in an even more compromising position with them, but I'll find my way out of that mess. I think........ As far as this tribe goes, I think between Joey's WILD imagination/constant over-analyzing and the lack of direction this tribe has taken so far.. I'm doing okay. Nobody is really standing out besides Joey and I guess myself in a way, so if I keep him around it MIGHT even shrink my own target little by little - unless people find out we're together then FUK. 

......five seconds later

In terms of my other relationships right now, I love John Coffey but this is old news, I've been in love with this man since like 2016 and it's fine - totally fine - just fangirling a bit rn since I get to spend more time with him!! woohoo. Xavier and Stephanie are straight up non-entities which makes me SO scared of them especially since Stephanie's won an ORG before... how can someone be so irrelevant yet still win something? Hmm... Makes me think that she's secretly a ninja, you never even see her around. Nik has grown more and more quiet as the days go along and I wonder what's goin' on with that. Maybe they've decided since Biden won the election that moving to New Zealand is a bad idea? Lmfao. I dunno. Nik stresses me the hell out because I have no idea what they're thinking at any point in time even in the off-chance that we are talking. I think I might just have a personality they don't mesh with because I noticed on call forever ago that none of my jokes were particularly landing but Nik had a lot to say and a LOT to joke about there... rip. If it's a personality conflict - go off, I guess. I'll try on a couple different hats w this person to try and see if I can get things to go better than they have been. Kailyn.. like I said before, pretty sure she's after me but I am really trying to sell it to her that I like her a lot, because I do. I literally compare her to my best friend irl because they have very similar attributes and I consider Kailyn kinda messy but fun and quirky like my BFF so I hope that Kailyn did truly appreciate me making that comparison. Ben's inability to do this challenge is going to be his undoing. I think the only acceptable move is to vote him off this time because I HAVE to prove to Kailyn that I can stay the course, and I also need to whittle down Bellagio numbers to prevent people from targeting us and having everything go to shit that way. Let Joey control this, please dear god. Don't let me get blood on my hands. Let Rachael integrate herself well on this tribe. Let someone else blow themselves up in the process. Just not me plz and thanks. There is no fear in my soul tonight. Joey might be a fucking crackhead but so am I. I'm breaking down walls that I didn't think existed but Joey basically told me tonight that he thought I was confrontational, rude, chaotic, and all these other things but was impressed at how calm, optimistic, and outgoing I was. Love to hear it. He might think he overestimated me but he was right about the initial impressions... too bad he won't be around long enough to see that side of me :~) 

FIRSTLY, DeNara was robbed. Okay so I already wrote this a while ago in my host chat about how the fact jake and dan are praying for my downfall because after the swap i am the only og bellagio on a tribe with 5 palazzo and 2 luxor. so after I slowly blinked at my screen for a bit I was like okay how do we survive this if I go to tribal. Because I’m under the impression tribes are gonna stick together especially going into merge but since Luxor is already down so many members it’s kinda Bellagio Vs. Palazzo. but then I was like okay wait I’m the only member of bellagio on this tribe after coming from a tribal so I’m the only one who can say what happened and I can create what narrative I want to help me get through the next couple rounds. Because if I was like oh blah blah I was in majority im so fucked then of course they’re gonna target me to get me out. But if I play the victim card and milk the fact that I voted in the minority acting like I hate my og tribe maybe they’ll think to use me as a pawn. To take down others moving forward. Listen if I have to be labeled a goat to move forward then BAA bitch.

.....five seconds later

Things are going good, because not only am no longer in danger this round but that means Rachael is going to the enemy tribe which if she came to our tribe that might’ve disrupted the narrative I had going of me being against og bellagio. Also DeNara should still be here, don’t think I didn’t clock the fact that Ben scored a 0. I also found out from Andrew that Rachael and Ben are apart of the same Tengaged group which explains why Rachael was so set on Ben staying but like, listen, if I end up in a game with someone I’m friends with, and they’re not active and helping the tribe. Good riddance.

What the. We lost yet again. I have lost everything since the start of the game. It's crazy. There are 4 from Bellagio, 2 Palazzo and 2 Luxor. 2+2 seems like an obvious plan, but it looks like it is falling apart already (read: Joey). Sucks to be across the world, so instead of scheming, I'll be sleeping.

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. is the same as I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty. 

The swap did happen. Expected it. Glad we won this first challenge in this new tribe tho in worried for Stephanie and Joey

Vault Shenanigans - Holy shit I did not expect this to be as powerful as it is. I was preparing myself for some sort of payment based search system, but being able to straight up buy the items I want, but its also the same for other people. I had a misconception at how generous the wheel was so I'm probably behind some people with the amount of chips, but I could very well start scooping up some of the steal votes and just say "see ya" to the idols, although getting a super idol would be very wild, it still seems risky to hold out that long to get it, even though there's a great amount of power associated with it. The other issue with a super idol is that I think that its very likely that if I get into a position where I need to use it, that I lose a lot of respect with the jury if it does happen. The only benefit from actually having it would be that I no longer have to worry about someone else whipping it out, so it'd be less for me wanting it, but more for others not having it. As of now, I think my optimal play is to hold on to my chips until around ~40, and then buy both vote steals at once, OR go all out for the super if someone has already bought an idol by that point, because I would be operating under the assumption that the frontrunner is already out of the running. Tribe Swap Shenanigans - This is a hell of a tribe swap. 5-2-1 is always a great spot to be in, I am already good within the 5 that I have so I don't have to worry about anything there, it should be relatively smooth sailing as far as getting to the merge. Mo/Jake are alright so far, neither particularly speak too much. Kevin has not reached out at all, probably will try to talk to him tonight for general purposes, even if he seems like he'd be an easy one to get out first should we go to tribal the next time. But generally I really don't plan on losing so it's kind of a wash. I'll take the smooth sailing, easy path to merge. Premerge is never as relevant as merge is when it comes to FTC as long as you have something to show for yourself at the merge. I've got all game to make my presence known, and I plan on using the entirety of the game to do so.

I feel super anxious today because even though I had a great conversation and built a good connection to Joey, there hasn't been any talk about the vote quite yet. I mean obviously names have rolled out but nothing solid is out there still, I think I just need to let go of the urgency for a name to start being spread early on and just let things be. Stephanie and I have been chatting a bit here and there today so I feel more comfortable with her and hopefully she sees things from a similar perspective as everyone else - the Bellagio foursome needs to get broken up right now. As long as it's not my name of course!!!!! Plz vote Ben @everyone. Or Kailyn tbh save me a little bit of trouble now. Talking to Xavier is SO HARD LMAO. He doesn't immediately contribute information into a conversation and as bad as I wanna get rid of Ben, I almost..almost think going for Xavier is the smarter move, since Xavier doesn't seem too motivated to actually get to know ME and work with me. I'm selfish that way. Kailyn doesn't seem like she wants to do Ben which is a little frustrating but I totally get it, if Ben stays he's going to go after her hardcore but like she needs to actually pitch me an alternative lmfao. I don't wanna go bending over backwards just to appease her right now so if she doesn't gimme a name.. sorry sis but then I think it's gonna be Joey's call on this one :/

I am being very cautious now. The 4 of us (me, John, Joey and Steph) are going to vote together. Now Jaiden wants to vote Nik. And Kailyn wants to vote Ben. Why can't we just agree on one?! And it always has to go down to the wire. Stick together, people!

I think I am possibly leading the charge against Nik rn?? Joey told me he wanted Ben and then I told him I wanted Nik and now he wants Nik LOL take that Stephen 

Okay well I have no idea what's going to happen tonight, but I'm going into tribal not afraid of the vote I am probably going to have to make ... I think the best move is to just vote for Nik and be done with it, but it's going to cause a serious rift in a lot of my relationships if I do so. I've been super wishy-washy to a lot of people I think and right now it doesn't make sense to continuously do one thing when I mean another.. especially since there seems to be zero ground to move upon when it comes to getting the vote to turn from Nik to Ben. Nik doesn't even SEEM ACTIVE?? Why are we making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Ben can't just walk around deciding what's going on and I think Kailyn would prefer to keep Nik around rather than Ben but it's like... so push for Ben to be the target hun! She's feeding into someone else's move no matter what she does, it's either Ben's agenda or John's agenda. Pick a side, but pick the side I'm on, too. Why don't we just vote for Kailyn tbh. lmao

[notwhelmedyet]

Younger

I will edit this later! I will post this properly on ao3! I will (probably) write a part 2. But in the meantime, before I go to bed: CYWHIRL WEEK DAY 1: THERE ARE NO PROMPTS BECAUSE I INVENTED CYWHIRL WEEK MYSELF, RIGHT NOW

Title: Younger, Part 1 Relationships: Cywhirlgate, Cywhirl Summary: Whirl decides it would be easier to go back in time and witness Cyclonus’s past than get him to spill his secrets. Warnings: Violence, Feelings

“You can’t just say that and then not explain!”

Cyclonus smiled, glancing over at Whirl with mischief sparkling in his optics. Of course he could not explain. This was the mech who had once promised Whirl that “Nobody is telling anyone anything, ever.” He was the grandmaster of not telling people things.

“Why did you even say anything, then?” Whirl groaned. He crowded into the windowseat beside Cyclonus and caught his chin with one claw so Cyclonus couldn’t coyly look away. “You’d tell Tailgate if he asked.”

“Tailgate would never,” Cyclonus said. “He’s from a time back when people had manners.”

“I would never!” Tailgate agreed. The fucking traitor. “Cyclonus doesn’t like talking about his past. Except for the songs. He loves talking about the songs.”

“And the arts,” Cyclonus put in.

“Oh yes! And the architecture! All the good things in life,” Tailgate said happily, climbing in between them on the windowseat, treating Cyclonus’s chest like a pillow. He batted at Whirl’s claw until Whirl released their conjunx and settled down between them and the hot glass of the windowpane.

Cyclonus hummed thoughtfully. “It’s better to remember the good things.”

“Yes, yes, I agree and all but blue?”

“I wasn’t aware it was a scandalous color,” Cyclonus remarked, with a straight face because he was a bastard who lived to torment the curious bots of the world and Whirl in particular.

“You huffed disapprovingly when I mentioned people swapping out their faceplates the other day. You have a legit scar on your leg, like a prehistoric urchin who’s never heard of a medic. And it’s not like you got a paint job - I’ve seen you with your arm torn off, you’re purple down to your base plating. Come ooooon, Cyclonus. I’m curious. It’s in my nature.”

“I think it’s better this way,” Tailgate said. “It’d look funny if we were a matched set. People would tease us. Just think of what Brainstorm would say - just awful! Plus, you’re so handsome in purple,” he said into Cyclonus’s chest, because his tiny frame belied what a massive flatterer he was.

“Do you really want to know?” Cyclonus asked.

“Yes.”

“Galvatron had me changed when I became his Warrior Second,” Cyclonus said, face suddenly serious. And aw, fuck it. Those were the magic words that unlocked the secret palace of ‘Whirl never getting to know anything about Cyclonus’s past’. Whirl didn’t even understand what a Warrior Second fucking was, though Rewind and Nautica both promised him it was a translate for ‘bodyguard’ or ‘retainer’ in ancient texts. Not that he’d asked. Whirl would never snoop in Cyclonus’s secret palace of secrets.

“You know, sometimes I think it would be easier to ask Brainstorm to make me a time machine and check for myself than to get you to explain anything about where you come from,” Whirl said.

“That would be a terrible idea,” Cyclonus said.

“Does that mean you’ll explain?” Whirl asked.

“No.” Cyclonus leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of Whirl’s face. “I love you, but no.”

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

“Brainstorm, if I asked nicely, would you make me a time machine?” Whirl asked. “Cyclonus refuses to tell me anything about his days before he was old and mysterious.”

Brainstorm raised his hand in a ‘please do not continue’ motion. “You really think it’s easier for me to build you a time machine than you to talk to your conjunx?”

“For sure.”

Brainstorm looked over at Perceptor, focused on his data analysis on the other side of the lab, then looked back at Whirl. “Yeah okay. But we’re not making more alternate timelines. Once was enough. Gonna need some sort of temporal lock so anything you splinter off vaporizes after the jump...hey, Percy! Want to go over some purely theoretical time machine plans?”

Perceptor looked at Whirl, then looked at Brainstorm, then back at Whirl. “You do know I can hear you, right? Even when you’re not talking to me?��

“Well Primus-damn-it you should have mentioned having a superpower at some point before now, Percy,” Brainstorm said. He scooted back on his lab stool until they were sitting side by side. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And you get to safety check me so we don’t kill everyone or destroy the universe!”

“And if that isn’t the definition of fun, what is,” Perceptor said dryly. He shook his head. “It’d be nearly impossible for Whirl to go unnoticed in the past; you’d need to build him an attention deflector suit like Ravage used or he’d get himself killed by an angry mob.”

“And by ‘you’ you mean ‘we’,” Brainstorm agreed. “Come back next week, buddy, we’ll get right on it!”

“I was actually not agreeing,” Perceptor pointed out, with the air of a mech was used to losing a lot of stupid arguments.

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

Brainstorm had promised the case would take him to an “emotionally resonant moment”, no guarantees which one. Whirl had turned the dial almost all the way to the red, which Brainstorm had helpfully labeled “Long Time Ago”. He hadn’t been sure what to expect. Mostly he’d been expecting the thing to explode and Brainstorm to pop out of the woodwork to give him a PSA on why you shouldn’t ask your friends to make you time machines. He hadn’t expected a war.

He ducked under a sword swing and staggered back, shocked by the sheer noise of it. It looked like Brainstorm’s attention deflector whatsit was working, nobody was swinging at him on purpose. Still, he didn’t want to be accidentally killed either. He transformed and took off, spotting a nearby outcrop of rock where he could spectate.

From that vantage point he could see it wasn’t a war at all. It was the end of a losing battle. There was an army, arrayed in ranks of purple and gold across the field. And then there were the last survivors of some local militia bunched at the center of the mass. Their shieldwall was three bots deep and domed like a forcebubble but it was slowly being crushed between the mass of the army surrounding it. The mechs who hadn’t made it to the retreat to the shieldwall were outnumbered ten to one, poorly armed, and dying quickly.

And Cyclonus was down there somewhere.

It went on for longer than it had any right to. Whirl alternated between pacing and muttering “Just fucking surrender!” at the losing side. He didn’t like routs unless he was on the winning side.

A jet swooped down towards the field and the army pulled back to clear a space for him as he landed and transformed. Finally someone he recognized! And wherever Galvatron was, Cyclonus was sure to be nearby.

Galvatron signaled to his troops - because they were definitely his troops and the fighting stopped. “Defenders of the lower temples!” Galvatron bellowed. His voice seemed to shake the very rocks of the valley. “There will be no victory for you here today! If any of your leaders yet live, let them come forth and bargain for your lives.”

The shieldwall rippled, then broke. They dug their shields into the dirt in front of them, sheathed their swords and brought their lances to rest behind their shields. Two mechs stepped out from the front line. One was tall and slender, with white finials and absurdly pointy shoulders. The other was Cyclonus.

Oh, he looked different, but it was unmistakably him. His frame was a lush velvet blue, except for his arms smeared purple with gore. His bearing was proud, rigid, unforgettable.

Galvatron turned to the white mech. “Your name, soldier.” Whirl had to adjust up the gain on his audials to hear him, the near-silent movements of the crowd increasing like the roar of a river.

“Montalon.”

“I give you a choice, Montalon. Promise me your loyalty. Swear to me your spark and prove your use. If you do this I will spare your soldiers.”

The white mech ground their spear into the ground and answered in defiance. “My only loyalty is to the Lower Temples!”

The point of their spear clattered to the ground as Galvatron struck it down with his axe. Whirl glanced away before the beheading but he couldn’t mistake the sound. When he looked back Galvatron had shifted to point his axe at Cyclonus.

“And you. Is your loyalty also only to the lower temples? You cannot save them. You can still save your soldiers.”

Cyclonus stood silent for one awful moment. He looked to the head of his fellow commander, greying in the dirt at his feet. “Tell me the price, Lord Galvatron, and I will meet it.”

A great wailing rose up from the defeated soldiers behind him. Cyclonus hunched his shoulders, but did not turn to look. One of the soldiers tried to break away, a jet in black and gold, before being hauled back by his fellows.

“Peace, soldiers of the lower temples!” Galvatron called. His soldiers moved to circle them, weapons braced and shields raised. “I offer you mercy, for his sacrifice. Do not waste it.”

Whirl couldn’t tear his optic away from the black and gold jet, held up by three mechs and sobbing in their arms, all military composure gone.

Cyclonus stood like a statue, like an icon of an old god cast upon a plinth. But when Galvatron asked his name he answered in a voice ravaged by grief. First love, perhaps.

“I offer you the same bargain. Become my Warrior Secondus. Prove your worth and then swear to your spark to me, in fealty until death. If you do this I will offer your soldiers mercy, Cyclonus of Upper Tetrahex.”

“Who will I face, and when?” Cyclonus asked.

“You will face me. Now.” Galvatron said, voice warm with mirth.

If he hadn’t been looking so closely Whirl would have missed Cyclonus flinch. “Very well, Lord Galvatron,” Cyclonus said the name like a snake spitting venom. “Arms?”

Galvaton waved dismissively at Cyclonus. “Keep both swords. If you can cut me, the battle ends.”

“Understood.” Cyclonus said.

“Back three paces!” Galvatron bellowed. He raised his axe and dropped the pommel against the ground three times, the ranked soldiers retreating in an answering stomp-stomp-stomp. A matched set of guards with tall shields pushed their way to the front, forming a circle to mark the battlefield.

Galvatron hefted his axe and said, “Draw your weapon and attack, Cyclonus of Tetrahex. May you not disappoint me.”

Cyclonus stepped back, then back again, dropping his hands to the sword on his left. Then he was off, springboarding off a shield to swing his sword at the back of Galvatron’s neck. Galvatron moved the haft of his axe to block the cut and the blade rang out, shattering.

Whirl had taken Galvatron’s challenge to be a duel to first cut. He realized his mistake on the first swing of Gavatron’s axe, which caught Cyclonus across the shoulders as he landed. Cyclonus staggered away, broken sword in hand and pink streaming down his back like a cloak. The fight did not end.

It wasn’t that Cyclonus was a poor fighter, though Whirl expected he’d already been beyond exhaustion when the duel started. It was that the blades he was using were fucking useless. Cyclonus landed a stroke across Galvatron’s braced forearms and didn’t make a scratch, though the blade squealed in protest.

“A smart swordfighter never lets his blades grow dull,” Galvatron commented, as he rammed the pommel of his axe against Cyclonus’s helm, knocking him to the ground. Galvatron strode forward and raised his axe to make the final, fatal blow. Cyclonus lay there, releasing both his swords to sink his fingers into the dirt. He looked up at Galvatron and made no plea to stop.

The axe swung down and Cyclonus finally lurched into motion. His legs kicked out, throwing his body onto his side and knocking Galavtron off his feet. The axe buried itself in Cyclonus’s shoulder but his other arm was snapping up to grab Galvatron by the neck and drag him down onto his own axe.

The crowd couldn’t have been quieter if you knocked them all dead.

Galvatron’s knees hit the ground and he wrenched himself upright, revealing a cut half the length of his chest, gushing pink. Galvatron touched his hand to the cut and then took hold of the axe handle. Cyclonus’s left arm lay limp on the ground, the shoulder nearly severed. When Galvatron tore the axe free Cyclonus made his first noise of the fight, a ragged moan.

Whirl had seen corpses in better shape.

But slowly, oh so slowly, Cyclonus raised himself to his knees. Galvatron passed his axe off to some other soldier and took Cyclonus by the chin. “You may prove useful after all, Cyclonus of Upper Tetrahex. Now swear yourself to me.”

[rubixfox-fanblog]

Body problems, Part 2: Break

/Part 1/

Summary : after realizing the situation both ended up in, they decided to to take a break, stumbling upon an old friend.

Warnings: Swearing.

Words: 2071

A/N: this took somewhat longer then expected.Oh well, I have nothing more to add. Just enjoy!

"Are  you sure you can handle the second one, little one." 

"Pretty sure."

Geralt and Jaskier finally arrived at Beauclair's famous pub, from the hill they were standing, it looked pretty close but they didn't count the little river they needed to cross, besides, the bridge that was on the other side of the fucking world, as Geralt claimed.  The poor Witcher was getting tired, he never felt tired before In his entire life so at some point he refused to walk any further or he was going to throw a fit. So Jaskier had no other choice than to carry him on his back. 

Jaskier could feel countless of eyes stabbing in his back when he did so. Because why would the witcher, well actually a bard, carry a person on his back? Especially as it depends on Geralt, he certainly would never do that. 

Heck no. Geralt would leave Jaskier behind for all he care.

They also agreed both not to tell anyone about the body swap, on their way through the city. So they both needed to act way out of their head. And if that wasn't already hard enough in a city were Geralt was well known by most of its citizen. 

Geralt grunted, he was in dire need for some ale but the bartender keep small talking the poor man, almost so much that Geralt was in the mood to punch the man in the middle of his face, breaking his nose. That would definitely satisfy him, since he was even more grumpy than he normal used to be, like Jaskier says so. 

"Don't think of 60 ways of breaking  his nose, Geralt. It isn't worth it." Jaskier whispers. "You're a stranger here, it's not like they're going to forgive you for it. Besides, think about my reputation as well."

"You can talk easy." Geralt murmeld softly. "I'm fucking stuck in your non mutated body, so do you expect me not to be angry?." He angrily took a sip from  the ale the bartender finally gave him. "Do you also expect me to play your fucking lute and sing?"

"My alcohol tolerance isn't that high either so you should calm down with you drinking beer." Jaskier sat with his legs crossed, playing with the glass of wine he wiggles between two of his fingers.

"Why do you act so calmly?!"

"Why are you acting so emotionally?"

They both stopped talking for awhile as Jaskier stared Geralt In the eyes.  The bard noticed that Geralt was sweating, his hands were shaking and his brown hair partially covered his eyes. 

Geralt was either nervous or he was simply hungry, that's what Jaskier concluded. But Jaskier knew the Witcher good enough, too good actually.  Geralt wasn't one to be nervous at times like this, no. He's probably hungry since they didn't eat, since they woke up, and he probably didn't recognized the hungry feeling.

Oh, he wasn't drunk as well. Jaskier's alcohol tolerance isn't indeed that high  but also not THAT low. 

"What." Geralt said, the silence between them both was getting awkward especially when the bartender stopped with washing his dishes to look at them both as well.

"Give the brat something to eat. He's not feeling good." Jaskier turned to the staring bartender. "Something of the menu, he doesn't care."

Geralt growled but Jaskier ignored the grunts of protests from the man. 

"If you want to survive these days,  than you should eat regularly. That's all." 

"As long you don't act stupid. We're in Beauclair, I have a reputation, also among the higher vampires." Geralt looked down at the food. A croissant filled with cheese, I guess.

"Trust me, Geralt, we'll figure it out." Jaskier finished his glass of wine and watched how Geralt shoved the croissant inside his mouth.

----

"Do mind your back! And keep moving, you need to be swift on all sides or the enemy will surprise you and attack you on your blind sides." 

The next morning the sun arose just above the horizon. Geralt decided to get up early, so he could avoid contact with anyone in the city. Sadly, he dragged Jaskier along  him and forced him into practicing him with some of his sword tricks. 

"Geralt, just because I look puny in your eyes, doesn't mean I can't handle a sword." Jaskier said and lifted his sword at shoulder height, basically copying what he sees from Geralt when he's fighting, carefully walking forwards and struck, the poor tree, with a angle of forty degrees. 

"Your fighting with Ghouls yesterday told me otherwise."

"It was the pressure!" Jaskier mumbled and catches a wooden sword when  Geralt threw him one. 

"Than show me." Geralt simply retorted. "And don't hold back."

"Are we really going to do this?"

Geralt was the first one to strike. His sword suddenly  came from above, probably aimed for his neck, luckily Jaskier was fast enough to dodge the blow.

"Lesson 1, almost the most important one, don't talk. A lot of people intend to do that, they get distracted and easier to hurt." Geralt said and Jaskier jumped back. He didn't move and waited for Geralt to land his second strike, but he as well didn't move. 

So Jaskier decided to be the first one to move, his sword ready to strike but Geralt already jumped aside, ready to attack Jaskier's back. As one of Geralt's common moves, at his own fights, Jaskier recognized it and quickly turned around and easily dodged by clashing their swords together. 

 "Expect the unexpected." Jaskier said, quickly removing his sword, breaking the contact with Geralt's and used his foot to 'gently' kick Geralt away from him.

"Act quickly, but not recklessly." Geralt responded, making sure he didn't trip over his own feet when he got kicked back. The move distracted geralt and didn't noticed that jaskier was already charging towards him.  But Geralt wasn't too late to act quickly, he simply raises raises his sword in the air to block Jaskier's sword impact.once they clashed swords again, Geralt uses his leg to tackle Jaskier, making sure Jaskier lost his balance. 

Jaskier's knee touched the ground and Geralt moved quickly behind him, quickly grabbing his chin and placed the sword in front of his neck.

"The sword is just a tool." Geralt than whispers in Jaskier's ear.

"Alright, alright. You win, but you must admit....." Jaskier started as Geralt released him. "....I'm not that bad."

"You did quite well, indeed." Geralt admitted and reached out to Jaskier and pulled him up on his own Two feet, as far as he could with his strength. 

"Ooh, did you just give me a compliment?"  Jaskier smirked.

"My, my..." 

Someone suddenly said, someone approaching them from the side

"Did I just witness a fight where the white wolf lost for the first time in front of my own eyes? From a bard?" 

Geralt recognized the voice immediately. 

"Regis." He mumbled.

"This is not the Geralt I know, unless someone possessed him."

"Who?" Jaskier asked.

"I am Regis, that's true. But how would someone I don't know, knows my name?" Regis said, suddenly appearing next to them. Giving Jaskier quite the scare.

"What the actually hell?" Jaskier shouted and jumped away, losing his balance and fell backwards in the grass.

"Excuse him. He's a bit..... not used to any... of this." Geralt tried to explain something, anything.

"Geralt."

"Regis."

"why exactly are you stuck inside the body of a bard. Don't fool me, I'm not stupid. Did you quarrel with a vile witch?"

"Believe me, Regis. If I know I would've told you." Geralt sighed. "It's a terrible situation. Jaskier's stuck in my body now, he's my best friend, we've been traveling together for a while now."

"The famous bard of Novigrad? It's an honor. I really like your ballads" Regis said de looked at the Witcher's body containing Jaskier.

"Novigrad, Velen, Kovir and all around. I won't stop until the entire world knows me." Jaskier said, sitting in the grass, legs crossed.

"Jaskier, Regis is my best friend as well. He currently lives around Toussaint. He's a higher vampire and is, softly said, older than me." Geralt explained pulling on the sleeve that curled up while sparring with Jaskier.

"Oh.. I..... it's a honor, sir. Geralt told me many things about you. Only the good things and the adventures you shared with him. He just won't stop talking about you if he gets the change."

"Stop it, Jaskier." Geralt mumbled. 

Regis laughed a little, holding the strap of his satchel with his right hand. "Geralt sure is an interesting fellow if I must say so myself. Geralt, tell me, what are you planning to do? Not everyone's clever as I am, especially not the enemies you made around here."

"I know... we must return back to Novigrad. Yennifer's waiting for us there, two days ago.."

"Bet she must be very grumpy by now. We were supposed to deliver her some herbs from Kovir. She was too busy to get them on her own and Geralt found a rather interesting contract there." Jaskier continued where Geralt ended but didn't seem to care.

"Not only herbs, she also needed poison from an Archgriffin."

"So on the way back, you crossed some angry sorceress and she used a portal to transport you both here, in the wrong bodies." Regis said and Geralt nodded. "But did you fulfill your contract?"

"Yes, a Manticore. It's my first in a decades."

"And you and Yennefer?"

"Regis, aren't you nosy? Close friends, nothing more." Geralt said slightly annoyed. "Why don't you tell us about the situation in Toussaint.  Is it safe to travel without crossing ever 5 meters a Necromage or Vampire?"

"No need to worry about Detlaff, He's fine and calmed down. About Anna Henrietta, she's probably still angry and it's for the better you don't cross her path."

"Figures and Regis?"

"Yes, Geralt?"

"We need some horses, can't you get them for us? We really need to set our way back to Novigrad. If we don't swap back to our bodies soon,who knows what kind of trouble we'll run into."

'Will do. Besides, won't Yennefer go out and look for you two?" He asked curiously. 

"I doubt it." Geralt mumbles.

Without any exchange of words, Regis transformed Into fog and made his way downtown. 

Jaskier looked at Geralt and walked towards him. 

"You learned me some tricks of you, now it's time you learned some tricks of me."

"Believe me, Jaskier. I don't need your woman advice, I have seen your work, it's just plain terrible."

"Offense taken. I didn't mean that." Jaskier pouted. "I meant playing on my lute. I bet you won't do any better than me and sword fighting. " Jaskier crossed his arms. 

"Really."

"Yes."

------

‘’You’re hitting the wrong tune again! Geez, Geralt.’’ The bard shouted, after an hour of two playing, and Geralt sighed deep, very deeply. Jaskier tried to teach him how to play his lute, but with Geralt’s body it was an absolute mess. His hands were  way too big to play with, even Jaskier couldn’t do it right.

‘’This is growing awfully dull.’’ Geralt mumbled and didn’t even tried to play right.

‘’So you’re admitting that I’m better than you?’’ 

‘’Whatever….’’  

‘’Gentleman, i've found what you requested, two beautiful mounts. They’ll guide you home without any problems.’’ Regis said as soon he returned with reins in his hands, guiding two pearl white horses.

‘’I’m glad you returned, Regis. I would've died of boredom if this continued any longer.’’ Geralt jumped up and walked towards the horses, reaching his hand out to one of the horses.’’They’re outstanding. How did you get them? Did you steal them from the palace?’’ 

‘’Almost, it’s a story i rather tell when everything is back to normal. Now go, hurry. Who  knows what happens if you two stay like this.’’

‘’Thanks, Regis.’ Geralt responded and mounted the horse as did Jaskier. 

‘’Now ride. Oh and also, try not to murder each other among the way.’’

‘’Don’t worry, Regis. I’ll make sure Geralt won’t get hurt’’ 

‘’Shut up, Jaskier.’’ Geralt didn’t wait for Jaskier to get ready and already sprinted off.

‘’Wait for me, jesus!’’ Jaskier yelled and quickly followed the Witcher while Regis waved them goodbye. 

Off they go, their way back to Novigrad. Through unknown and dangers land, through a swamp known for it dangers.

-----

Tags:  @dat-carovieh @shiphappen-s @Henkersfuhs @ro-morningstar @j-mysticalien @jord-el @jarvisismycopilot @mitzwinchester

[ua-monoma]

.03.07.

Session Two || Hakamata Tsunagu @ua-bestjeanist

[Listless and exhausted, Monoma makes his way into the room, hardly looking up as he slips into the closest chair. The dark circles under his eyes are fading but still noticeable, and he immediately bows his head so that his hair covers his face.]

MONOMA: ...

[Hakamata hardly catches a glimpse of the boy's face when he looks up from his notes. He knows the feeling well, the exhaustion.]

HAKAMATA: Hello, Monoma-san..

[Wasting no time, he takes a bento from his bag and sets it on the table in front of the poor boy.]

HAKAMATA: Here, eat if you're hungry

MONOMA: ... Thank you... 

[He nudges the bento closer to himself but doesn't make an attempt to open it up just yet, bleary as he blinks away his tiredness.]

HAKAMATA: I've brought my own, you won't have to feel uncomfortable being the only one eating.

[He sets drinks on the table as well, thinking it's best to wait until the young man has eaten before bringing up his tired appearance.]

MONOMA: ...

[Figuring that the hero was going to keep bringing it up until he's eaten, he starts to pick up the chopsticks tucked into the bento after opening it, picking at the food with them before bringing a few small bits into his mouth.]

MONOMA: ... 

[He chews slowly.] 

MONOMA: It's good... [he mumbles.]

[Hakamata opens his own, handling his chopsticks with a shaky hand.]

HAKAMATA: ..I'm glad you like it, you can let me know if you have any food preferences for next time.

MONOMA: ... 

[He watches him struggling, already feeling sick again at the sight of it. He's still so weak... It's upsetting.

He tries to force himself to continue chewing, at the very least.] 

MONOMA: ... I will...

[Eventually, the hero just sighs and swaps hands. Bringing food to his mouth. He eats for a few minutes, letting the silence exist for maybe a bit longer than it should.]

HAKAMATA: Have you been adjusting back into class well? Your friends must have missed you dearly.

MONOMA: ... I suppose they did... [he mumbles, now picking at his food more than actually eating again.] They say they did. I don't know... mm.

[He frowns a little.]

MONOMA:  Classes are alright. I'm still catching up, so I've had a lot of extra lessons... and I haven't used my quirk much. Besides that, though, it's fine...

HAKAMATA: From what I can tell...your class is like a tightly knit family.

[After another bite, he continues.] 

HAKAMATA: Your quirk is "copy", right? Is there a reason you haven't been using it?

MONOMA: A little bit. Quite a few of us are a little more... estranged from our actual families. And Vlad-sensei is wonderful to us...

[He trails off, his bad mood soothed for the moment as he thinks of his beloved teacher, only to sour again at the next question.] 

MONOMA: Mm... It's complicated. It doesn't feel... right to, I suppose... 

[His voice drops in volume, almost inaudible as he admits it.]

HAKAMATA: I see...I won't pry further. I hope you can feel better about it soon.

[He picks up his drink.]

HAKAMATA: I can't speak for any of your friends, but your teacher seems to care for you greatly.

[Monoma nods slowly, his mood plummetting a little more at that. It's an awful contradiction in his mind, the relief that the hero wasn't prying but somehow feeling betrayed at the same time for it, like he or even the subject wasn't worth the effort. Distracted, he pries a piece of meat apart with his chopsticks.]

MONOMA: He... does. He's very kind to me despite all the trouble I've caused him... And he hasn't discarded me yet, though I'm sure he wants to...

HAKAMATA: I doubt he ever will, Monoma-san. People like Vlad King-san tend to stick in people's lives when they have that kind of relationship. A bit like a father, really.

[He finishes his own food, tucking the box back into his bag. He lifts some other things out first before placing everything back in, so they can be at the top, ready to be extracted later.]

[Monoma can't help but flush a little at the 'father' comment. Eyes flickering up quickly, he watches Hakamata packing his food away and hurries to do the same, setting his box away and placing it to the side for now.]

MONOMA: I, um. I suppose. I don't know. 

[He starts to fidget, picking at his nails as his cheeks continue to redden.]

MONOMA: I don't know... maybe...

[Hakamata notices the sudden shift of colour. Was he embarrassing him?]

HAKAMATA: I'm glad you have someone that important in your life...can you tell me about your friends?

MONOMA: ...

[He keeps fidgetting.] 

MONOMA: I don't know what to say... I suppose I'm friends with my classmates, mostly... And maybe a few in the other class, I don't know...

HAKAMATA: Is there anyone in particular you'd like to bring up that you're especially close with? I'd love to hear about the important people in your life. 

[He adjusts his legs, sitting more comfortably.] 

HAKAMATA: It helps me understand you on a special level.

[Monoma watches him move a little, feeling a little relieved at that.]

MONOMA:  ...

[Then he wilts a little as he thinks of the mess of his relationships at the moment.] 

MONOMA: I don't... know if I'd really want to bring anyone up, but I could, um... [He sighs a little.] 

MONOMA: A few of my classmates I grew up with... I supose I'm closest to my friend Kendou, but we haven't been talking. That's... sort of been the trend lately. There's Shinsou-kun, who I haven't been talking with, and Yaoyorozu, who I haven't been talking with... I do have Todoroki-kun, at least, and I talk to him, but... I don't... I don't know.

[He lists off a name Hakamata recognizes, but pushes the thought aside for later.]

HAKAMATA: I see...is there any particular reason you arent talking to them? Is it just the readjustment back into your life, or other reasons?

[Monoma shrugs vaguely.] 

MONOMA: It's the readjustment... or it's our schedules never quite lining up or it's... me, I suppose... I don't know. 

[He wilts a little, looking miserable.] 

MONOMA: I haven't exactly asked. Sometimes I'll have a few guesses, a few theories, but I don't ever really know...

HAKAMATA: Well..if they're your friends, then they must care for you. Remind yourself of that if it helps. Have any of your friends reached out to you in specific?

[He writes down the names, but nothing else.]

[Watching something getting written down, though, makes him antsy, especially since he doesn't know what it is from where he's sitting.]

MONOMA: ... I don't know. I don't exactly make it easy for them... Like, I know I'm most of the problem. I've had a conversation or two with... um, I didn't list them before, Kuroiro-kun and Tokage... And if it's obvious, if I make a grand show of my suffering and all, then someone is always bound to come rushing forth to help. But I've always thought that was more because... they're good people, that's what they do. It's hard to think that it's... for me... in any way.

HAKAMATA: I'm just saving the names of your friends so I don't forget them, don't worry.

[He decides to be upfront, seeing his reaction.]

HAKAMATA: ..Is it really a show if you're hurting, Monoma-san?

[Monoma’s eyebrows furrow a little and he purses his lips at that, falling quiet.] 

MONOMA: ...

MONOMA: Isn't it...

HAKAMATA: You've been through a lot, you're allowed to hurt.  It's okay. I like to believe that your friends reach out to you because they care...you said you grew up with the other ones?

MONOMA: ... Well, I'm not an optimist like you apparently are... [he murmurs bitterly before crossing his arms, frowning to himself.] But yes. Kendou Itsuka, I've known her since we were children.

HAKAMATA: ...I wouldn't call myself an optimist..

[Shifting again, he starts to think about his own experiences, but hurriedly pushes it aside.]

HAKAMATA: Tell me about her..?

[Monoma sighs a little, sulking now.] 

MONOMA: ... She's currently our class president at UA. And she's always been that sort of type, you know... responsible. Maybe a little too much, [he adds with a huff.]

MONOMA: We met when we were children and she was one of the first kids my age that would let me borrow their quirk. Usually, that was more of a luxury shared with me by the adults in my life... [he trails off for a moment, blinking slowly before sighing again.] She used to get into little tiffs as well. To protect me. She's the protective type.

HAKAMATA: So she's like a sister, then..from the sound of it, at least.

[He scribbles a star by her name in his book.]

HAKAMATA: You're fortunate to have someone like that. I noticed you brought up your quirk again....is there any way you would like me to help you with feeling comfortable using it again?

MONOMA: ... Something like a sister. I grew up an only child, so I wouldn't know...

[He's somewhat grateful for the change in conversation, though it turns to one that's that much more uncomfortable to talk about.]

MONOMA: I don't know. I'm not... not-comfortable with it. It's just... the process has been complicated, is all. 

[He thinks a moment.] 

MONOMA: ... I think there's a way that would help, maybe, if I may ask...

HAKAMATA: I did too, I understand..

[He nods, listening carefully. His interest is caught when he starts to suggest something.]

HAKAMATA: ..Go ahead

MONOMA: ... I want to do hero work again... [he mumbles before he raises his eyes, meeting his gaze.] I want to be out there, using my quirk for good. I was in an internship before I was taken, and I've been applying for more again, I just... I think everyone thinks I'm... That I can't. And I know I can.

HAKAMATA: ...You're asking to intern with me. Or someone I know. Is that it..?

[He thinks on it for a few moments. Letting the question hang in the air.]

HAKAMATA: ..Yes, I can probably arrange that

[Monoma just nods slowly, choosing not to answer the question since it's just... easier. Really, he'd take what he could get, and as much of it as he possibly could...]

MONOMA: .. Thank you, sir...

HAKAMATA: ...It'd have to be someone else. The public doesn't even know of my return yet. Unless you'd rather work with one of my sidekicks if you want my agency. Do you have anyone in particular you'd like to work with?

MONOMA: Not really. I just... 

[He frowns a little.] 

MONOMA: I wasn't allowed in this year's Sports Festival... and you know how important that all is in having heroes see you as capable enough to work alongside them. But... it was too soon after I'd returned and I wasn't believed to be stable enough. I think people still don't think I'm stable enough, really...

[He fidgets, but tries to keep his gaze even despite his nerves.] 

MONOMA: ... but... with your word, or your permission, or... recommendation, what have you, they'd have no choice but to believe I can still handle myself...

HAKAMATA: Alright, then. I can do that for you....but it will need to wait until my return is announced. Would that be alright? The word of a man many probably believe is dead wouldn't be any help to you.

MONOMA: ... 

[He nods slowly, sulking again.] 

MONOMA: Of course...

HAKAMATA: Which should be soon, don't worry. I can get you doing hero work one way or another.

MONOMA: ... Thank you... [he mumbles.] I just... really think it would help if I had something to dedicate myself to...

HAKAMATA: For now, I can ask a few fr....coworkers if they would be willing to let you join them temporarily. Would you like that?

MONOMA: ... I would... if you don't mind...

HAKAMATA: I can do that, then. I'll get started after our session and keep you updated.

[He worries a bit. They've not even started the heavier topics.]

HAKAMATA: Speaking of..[he sighs.] Your internship was placed immediately after that traumatic game, wasn't it? Aside from what else you've been through, do you think that horrible simulation has anything to do with the way you are feeling right now?

MONOMA: ... 

[He stills slowly, in a way he prays isn't noticible, his heart skipping in his chest at the mention of the simulation. Like all this isn't bad enough, now he has to remember that Hakamata was present for that horrible event, and he would have seen... so much of such an ugly side of him.]

MONOMA: ... 

[He feels sick. He wants to go home.]

MONOMA: Not really... [he lies, a quiet restraint in his voice.] If anything, that should be proof that I could... handle myself...  That I... [he trails off, trying to remember that internship. He'd been hospitalized soon after the simulation; had he even done much...?]

MONOMA: ... 

[More reason to feel like a failure, then...]

HAKAMATA: ....I wasn't present for the end of it due to personal reasons. That simulation was too risky from the start, I am sorry that I helped in such an awful project. It pushed you to your extremes by using your fear against you in an extremely unlikely situation.

MONOMA: I understood the point of it- [he starts with a rising panic, cutting him off some as he hears the hero start to apologize.] I understood why it was needed, I know what it was trying to teach us, I know it was necessary, it's fine. I'm fine. It helped me in the end, anyway. It's fine-

HAKAMATA: ...It's not fine...it's clearly impacted you...we can move on, if you would feel more comfortable talking about something else.

MONOMA: I don't care. 

[He curls in on himself, hugging himself tight.] 

MONOMA: You brought it up for a reason. If this was about comfort, I wouldn't be here in the first place... Just ask your questions.

HAKAMATA: I just want to know if it's somehow affected how you feel about your quirk, Monoma-san, that's all. If it hasn't, we can talk about something else. My job is just to help you..

MONOMA: It's just different, [he snaps.] Of course it's different. You use your quirk to hurt someone, it's going to feel different every time you use it. And I've never had that luxury everyone else had, [he continues, raving now.] I don't get to EVER understand things about my quirk. I don't get to know what power I'll have by the end of the day. And things change and I don't get to know what until it's too late. And I hate it.

[Tears pop into his eyes but he continues.] 

MONOMA: I've changed so much and I don't get a choice in the ways how and it's the same fucking thing with my quirk and I hate it. And you can't help me.

[Frowning, the hero reaches down to click something on his wheelchair before wheeling himself over to Monoma's side of the table. He doesnt say much of anything, but reaches to pull the boy into a hug.]

HAKAMATA: I want to at least try, Monoma-san

[Mouth snapping shut as he approaches, Monoma withdraws a little, but he doesn't resist more than that as he's pulled into a hug. He shivers a little, almost violently, and closes his eyes, trying to hide the way that he starts to sniffle.] 

MONOMA: ...

[A shaky hand comes up, petting his hair. He stays that way.]

HAKAMATA: You can cry, it's alright.

[He doesn't want to. He tries his damn best not to, but feeling that shaky hand against his hair, trying to comfort him despite all he's done, and intimately knowing every reason for every little tremor that goes through it- He can't. Monoma sniffles again, then slumps weakly in his arms as he starts to quietly sob against him.]

HAKAMATA: I've got you..

[He continues with it, occasionally rubbing the young hero's back with the other. He comforts Monoma much like he remembers his mother comforted him at a young age.]

HAKAMATA: ..You're a good kid, Monoma-kun.

[Monoma clutches to him, shaking his head once as his cries get a little louder, than soften into a quiet intensity. Under his hands, where he only clutches tighter, the fabric of Hakamata's clothes just barely start to unfurl and loosen under his fingers. He doesn't notice.]

HAKAMATA: Here.. 

[Also not noticing, and without letting go completely, he moves his hand for a moment to grab boxed tissues from the table. He sets them on the armrest of Neito's chair before continuing.]

MONOMA: Mm... 

[He goes to reach for one, hoping to clean his face off, feeling disgusting for such a mess he's making, and that's when he notices it, feeling the threads sticking to his hands as he pulls away from Hakamata's body. Upon feeling that, he lifts his head to look, and then immediately leaps back with a gasp of dismay, shaking his hand frantically to try and get the threads to stop clinging to him.]

MONOMA: S-sorry-- sorry, I'm- I'm not trying to, I'm sorry--

[Confused until he sees the threads, Hakamata looks down at the hole in his jacket.]

HAKAMATA: It's alright, you didn't mean it. It's a very tricky quirk..

[Gently, he helps hm get the threads off his hands, zipping them back into place once they're free.]

MONOMA: I didn't make that happen, I didn't do it on purpose... [he continues, rambling under his breath.] I'm-- I'm supposed to control it, I...

[When he watches Hakamata easily fix the damage, he finally falls silent, mouth pressing together like he's decided he's said something... forbidden, somehow. His hands lower into his lap and he bows his head a little, sullen.] 

MONOMA: Sorry... thank you...

HAKAMATA: It's alright, quirks can be activated with strong emotions. I'm assuming that's what happened.  You don't need to worry so much...

[Trying his best to reassure him, he seems to remember something.]

HAKAMATA: Ah, right. I brought dessert.

[Even with that, though, Monoma only continues to withdraw, flushing with embarrassment now, though he does perk up slightly at the mention of dessert.]

MONOMA: Um... did you?

HAKAMATA: I did, one of my favourites actually.

[He reaches into the bag again, pulling out two small containers. He passes one to Monoma.]

HAKAMATA: I do hope you like macarons..?

MONOMA: ... 

[He flushes again after feeling the automatic way he brightens slightly at the sight of one of his favorite desserts.] 

MONOMA: ...

MONOMA: I do, I really like them... [he mumbles sheepishly.]

HAKAMATA: Oh, good..! Looks like I made the right decision then.

[Inside the container, there's 4 little cookies, each a different flavour.]

MONOMA: ... 

[Monoma sniffles again. He wipes his face a little, scrubbing any lingering tears away with his hand. It's more than a little exhausting, going from so miserable to having this pleasant little surprise. The spark of happiness it gives him feels strange.]

MONOMA: ...Thank you...

HAKAMATA: You're welcome, Monona-san...

[He smiles at him, pleased to see him feeling a bit better. He hopes sessions after this will come easier.]

[Monoma returns the smile a little before managing another sniffle and wiping at his face again, now a little self conscious for his outburst.] 

MONOMA: .... 

[He fidgets a little, nervous again.] 

MONOMA: ...

[He looks concerned noticing his shift in attitude again.]

HAKAMATA: Are you alright..?

MONOMA: Just... y'know. 

[He shrugs sheepishly.] 

MONOMA: I don't... do that often, it's embarrassing...

HAKAMATA: I understand...it's nothing to worry about. Nobody knows but us, I'm legally unable to tell a single soul.

MONOMA: Well, that is comforting... [he says with a dry little laugh.]

HAKAMATA: If I do, you can sue me..! [He jokes with him a bit, feeling a bit better himself.]

[Smirking at that, Monoma manages another little laugh.] 

MONOMA: Oh, don't tempt me...

HAKAMATA: In all seriousness though, nobody will hear a word of it.

[Monoma nods, chewing his lower lip as he thinks about that.] 

MONOMA: ... Thank you.

HAKAMATA: You're welcome... ah, one more question actually. Is there any heroes you would like me to avoid asking to temporarily intern you?

[Monoma frowns. Immediately he thinks of Endeavor but... it's hard to deny just how incredible the man's influence and power is. So, instead, he just shakes his head.] 

MONOMA: I'm fine with whoever is kind enough to take me on...

[Hakamata nods.] 

HAKAMATA: I see, I've got some ideas, I'll do my best..

MONOMA: Thank you... It really means a lot to me.

HAKAMATA: It's no problem...I'll text you when I find someone.

MONOMA: Thank you...

HAKAMATA: Do you have any concerns, before our time is up?

[Monoma shrugs vaguely.]

MONOMA: ... Do you ever get sick and tired of the patients you see? I can't imagine this is a job that isn't... extremely taxing emotionally...

HAKAMATA: Your case is actually very unique. I don't typically see hero students...or teenagers at all, really. Its usually grown adults who have comitted crimes.

[He shrugs]

HAKAMATA: As someone who's worked here for years, I can't imagine how you ended up here.

[Monoma forces a humorless laugh.] 

MONOMA: Just my damned luck, I suppose...

MONOMA: ...

MONOMA: I don't have any other concerns, no...

HAKAMATA: Alright, then..! I do hope you enjoy your dessert, I am sorry that we could not talk longer.

[He ruffles Neito's hair slightly.]

HAKAMATA: I'll see you next week?

MONOMA: ...

MONOMA: Oh... 

[Not expecting the affectionate gesture, he ends up flushing again as he gathers his things, taking his bento and the little box of macarons.] 

MONOMA: Ah, yes, next week... Thank you for everything, sir...

HAKAMATA: Really, it's no problem-..  

[Another man enters, approaching Hakamata in his chair before realizing Monoma is still there. He looks embarassed and apologizes.]

MONOMA: ... 

[Monoma fights off a grimace. Instinctually, he just feels ashamed that someone else has appeared to bear witness to such a humiliating practice. Then, a bout of curiousity... Lingering for a moment, he fixes questioning eyes on Hakamata, hoping to get an explanation without having to come out and ask for it just yet.]

HAKAMATA: Ah, sorry. This is my caretaker, Gyakuten-san. He's used to coming in here at certain times.

[He gestures to the man, who looks like he feels awkward. He forces an uncomfortable smile.]

MONOMA: ... 

[Monoma politely smiles back, giving him a short bow as he comes to standing.] 

MONOMA: It's a pleasure, Gyakuten-san...

[Then, he looks over at Jeanist.] 

MONOMA: I won't keep you any longer, sir... Again, thank you for everything you've done for me today.

[He bows in return, then scoots behind the wheelchair.]

HAKAMATA: I'm glad to have helped. Have a good weekend, Monoma-san.

MONOMA: You too.

[With that, he takes his leave.]

[nitewrighter]

Of Blades and Broomsticks Pt. XV

I have no excuse. Have some Widowmaker in a Lestat cosplay.

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 11, 12, 13, 14

Read it on AO3 here.

----

“Seek me if you have the sight.”

“Meet me at the city gates if you’re in.”

“What’s out there?”

The inscription on the cell, the words of the self-proclaimed hunter, and Pharah’s own hunger for answers rang in her head all night, round and round, swapping off with each heartbeat in her ear. Thankfully the continuous exhaustion from trying to cobble Adlersbrunn together kept her from tossing and turning, but she remembered the witch hunter Gabriel in her dreams.

You wish to help me you will be walking a gray and dangerous path. Dogs guard flocks of sheep from wolves, but all dogs were wolves once.

If there is evil in our midst, to treat it with indifference is to enable its existence.

Pharah woke in the dark pre-dawn hours with a sour hunger in her bones. She looked around her bare room, then looked to her window. The moon was shining brightly that night, but the smoke staining the glass rendered it brownish yellow. Pharah wondered if the scent of smoke--not the smoke of a blacksmith forge, but the searing, sometimes sulfurous smoke of magic---would ever leave Adlersbrunn. 

Still so much work to do... It would be very easy, she thought, To let him leave. To keep working on rebuilding the town here. To hope vagabonds like him are enough to keep whatever’s lurking out in the shadows at bay.

She furrowed her brow and looked to the adder stone she kept on her bedside table. No. She wouldn’t leave it like this. And she certainly wasn’t going to leave this situation in the hands of an excommunicated rogue. She rose to her feet, cleaned herself in her washbasin, put on her cleanest, strongest armor, and scrawled out a missive for her fellow guards, establishing the new chain of command in her absence. She sealed the missive with wax and set it on her table in the chamber of the captain of the guards. She wrote another, shorter, more sentimental letter for Torbjörn as well, and left that one on the desk of the castle’s man-at-arms. She packed a few days of supplies for herself and her horse, then mounted a bay rouncey and rode for the city gates.

True to his word, Jehoshaphat Maccrea of Helsing was waiting by the city gates in the mists of the following dawn. She didn’t like the smirk he gave her.

“I like you,” he said as they rode out of Adlersbrunn, leaving the stone of the city walls behind them and heading out into the surrounding farmland.

“And how did you decide that?” said Pharah.

“I like to think everyone’s got that hunger, that curiosity--it’d be too easy to lie down and let death take you otherwise, but few really follow it through to the end,” said Jesse.

“Would you still like me if I had chosen to stay behind?”

“Well I’d respect you, gotta respect anyone who protects their own, but it wouldn’t really matter if I liked you, would it? I’d be long gone.”

Pharah frowned a little, “I suppose so,” she said, looking off.

“I think it makes things more pleasant to like one’s traveling companion, don’t you?”

“I don’t have to like you,” said Pharah.

“It’d make things nicer if you did,” said Jesse with an easy smile.

“I wouldn’t be riding with an excommunicated scoundrel unless it meant making sure what happened to my city never happens again,” said Pharah.

“Scoundrel?” Jesse repeated.

“Yes, scoundrel. It sort of comes with the whole ‘excommunicated’ thing,” said Pharah.

“That is exactly the kind of black and white thinking that’s gonna get you killed out there,” said Jesse.

“I thought you said you’d probably die if you didn’t have me backing you up?” said Pharah.

“I probably would,” Jesse conceded. 

“That’s morbid,” said Pharah as they rode past a pumpkin patch. She wondered if it was the one they found the blood in.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to be as honest as I can with you?” said Jesse.

Pharah furrowed her brow and readjusted herself in her saddle.

“This is why I don’t have to like you,” said Pharah, looking straight forward as they rode.

“That’s why I like you,” said Jesse with a smirk. She didn’t like that smirk.

-----

Mercy woke the morning after the banquet in a haze of half-sleep. The moans coming from the courtyard of the monastery from the cultists’ revelries lasted into the gray light of dawn. She did her best to try and push what was going on to the back of her consciousness, to treat it like the night birds of the woods or the wind blowing through the trees, but she knew the forests of Adlersbrunn were far behind her now. 

She rose up to a seated position in bed and looked out her window. A part of her was regretting leaving such a remote sanctuary as this, especially with so much still to learn from its library, but at the same time, the previous night had confirmed her feelings that she didn’t really have a place here. The monastery had the feel of a swirling vortex, like the dark portals Zenyatta could summon--and the flame of creation within her thrashed against that void like a wild bird caged. She washed and dressed herself, then proceeded to the library of the monastery for one last look through for anything that might help her better understand the Flame of Creation--a long shot, in a temple to the void, but a shot worth making all the same.

Her perusing though the shelves of the library was half-distracted by her own plans for the journey. She knew she and Genji had agreed to go west, and the Monastery sat on some grim black sea cliffs that.. treacherous as they were, would at least provide a decent amount of visual reference of the area for them to make significant headway in their journey--easier than wandering through the woods, at least. She decided would swing by the refectory for some supplies for their journey when she next met up with Genji. She wondered if he would want human food of if he would prefer to take the form of a sparrowhawk and just swoop up whatever unfortunate creature he could for convenience’s sake. He was certainly strong enough to help carry some supplies--no, no, he was her protector, not her porter. She would carry her pack for herself.

 She was distractedly looking at the illustration in some text of what was supposedly erotic Enochian poetry but just looked like a mass of wings and eyes and circles when Junkenstein suddenly stumbled, swaying as he brought himself to his full height.

Oh that’s right, she thought, with a brief beat of ‘Oh gods, what’s going to happen,’ He was at the banquet too.

“Hoo!” Junkenstein stretched his arms above his head, “What a night!”

Mercy bit the inside of her lip and smiled a little as he walked over. A bit relieved that this was another instance in which she could trust Junkenstein to be Junkenstein.

“You enjoyed the banquet?” said Mercy, glancing up.

“Well that was... anthropologically fascinating. Not a religious man myself but... I understand the appeal.”

Mercy just grinned. “How did they take to your creation?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Oh they like him. I got so much data on his...” Junkenstein cleared his throat, “Social capabilities.”

“Really?” said Mercy.

“Well they aren’t picky about tentacles, so I imagine there’s not a whole lot they are picky about,” said Junkenstein, “And if he has the approval of old Squidface, they’re all over him.”

“Well that’s good,” said Mercy, “I do worry about him... I suppose I worry about all of us having a place in this world...”

“I had to shovel some of them off of him this morning,” said Junkenstein, “Tragically he rolled over on one but, y’know with all the stabbing they do, they don’t get all that upset about that sort of stuff.”

“You still want to leave with us?” said Mercy.

“I told you, you wouldn’t last a second without us,” said Junkenstein, smiling, “Just... don’t mind me if I’m walking funny for the next few days. Well.. funnier than usual.” Junkenstein paused, “You and the demon took off soon as the meal was over, didn’t you?” 

“Well after all the excitement back in Adlersbrunn, I didn’t really have the energy for all that revelry,” said Mercy.

“Right, and you certainly weren’t sneaking off for some moments of privacy with the demon you keep insisting to me that you can’t trust.” 

“He was just making sure I made it back safely to my chambers,” said Mercy, folding her arms.

“Suuuuuure,” said Junkenstein with a wink.

“He was!” said Mercy.

“Nothing happened, I mean--I was covering my face and he kissed my knuckles but that was it. We went to bed---or I went to bed and he... I don’t know. He just flies off at night sometimes. Maybe he turned into a wolf and ate some rabbits or something.”

“You’re joking,” said Junkenstein.

“Look, my cat broke a tea leaf pot, we worked out a deal, he held up his end of the deal, and I spat some blood into his mouth so he wouldn’t die, that doesn’t mean we’re soulmates--” 

“Conveniently leaving out the dramatic rescue (with help from yours truly, of course), riding him in dragon form out of the city---”

“Sprouting wings...” Mercy admitted.

“Sprouting wings!” Junkenstein pointed an accusing finger at her, “Not to mention all the dancing by the light of the cultist fires---”

“What is your point, Jamison?” 

“You’re in deep, Gramercy. I know you. You make a point of not getting in deep with anyone, and as your friend I think I have a responsibility to let you know when you are a lot more emotionally involved with someone than you’re telling yourself you are---especially when, as you said, we may have broken something, we may be kicking off something big that none of us has any control over. And I think we should all be on the same page if we’re going to be traveling together---”

He was cut off by the sound of the door opening, not with the usual grunting of whoever was pushing it open. Both Mercy and Junkenstein looked up to see Zenyatta at the doorway of the library. He hadn’t even pushed on the door, but it had opened for him. Perhaps the stone of this monastery obeyed him just as loyally as any of the cultists.

“Witch,” Zenyatta spoke to Mercy, the tentacles of his face slowly shifting with thought, “A word?”

Mercy looked at Junkenstein.

“Don’t let me hold you up,” said Junkenstein with a shrug, “I’ll keep making the preparations.”

Mercy nodded and walked out of the library.

-----

“So you and Genji are departing?” said Zenyatta as they walked on the cliffs outside the monastery, the white waves and green brackish water crashing on the black rocks below.

“With your permission, of course,” said Mercy, “Genji is my protector, but he was your student before that. I would hate to undermine that. And it is nice to have a place to stay where I’m not too worried of being burned at the stake. But seeing as I am not a cultist myself I don’t want to impose too much on your hospitality.”

“You have my permission--” said Zenyatta, “There are few places you or Genji could travel in this plane that I wouldn’t know where you were.”

 A long pause passed between them.

“Was there something in particular you wished to discuss?” asked Mercy.

“Earlier this morning I asked Genji a few questions about the nature of your relationship---what his plans for the future were. He stated that, as payment for his protection, you would give him your first-born.”

“...That was our deal, yes,” said Mercy, pausing to pick some samphire from a cleft in one of the black rocks.

“And are you aware that I have known the Goddess Satya for longer than mankind has walked the earth? And you can assume, thusly, that I was there when we both gathered our first worshippers?”

“I... I can assume that, yes,” said Mercy.

“And as such I am aware of both the abilities and the physical limitations of those who bear Satya’s flame of creation,” said Zenyatta. His voice deepened and suddenly seemed to surge around her like water , “No seed of man can flourish in a field of fire.”

Another long pause passed before Mercy drew herself to her full height.

“Have you told Genji?” she asked calmly.

“That you cannot give him a first-born? No. No, I haven’t,” said Zenyatta, looking out to the ocean, “I am his teacher, but I find some of the hardest lessons are the ones he must learn on his own. I suggest you break the news to him. Do it on your own terms while you still can.”

“I will,” said Mercy.

“Will you?” Zenyatta’s tentacles tensed.

“The only reason I lied in the first place was because--well, I suppose since he was a demon, I assumed he wouldn’t keep his word, so there was no more harm in me not keeping mine. But he saved my life, he protected me, true to his word. So I will tell him,” she bit the inside of her lip, “When the time’s right.”

“Do you fear his wrath?” said Zenyatta.

“I don’t know,” said Mercy, “He’s always going on about how dangerous he is, and his swift and mighty sword but...” Mercy huffed, “I think I fear hurting him, more--but---that’s silly, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t it more horrible of him to want a newborn baby? He’s probably going to--to-eat it or something, isn’t he?”

“He wouldn’t eat it,” said Zenyatta.

“You know why he wants one?” said Mercy.

“I do,” said Zenyatta.

 “You must tell me what for!” said Mercy.

“That is for him to tell you,” said Zenyatta, “Just as this is for you to tell him.”

“For an all-knowing god, that isn’t very helpful,” said Mercy, folding her arms.

“As is the case with most gods, ‘All-knowing’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘helpful,’” said Zenyatta.

Mercy heard a screech and turned her head to see a handsome silvery skua diving amongst the waves. It wheeled in the white foam, then seemed to catch sight of them and swoop toward them with a cry. The skua swept in overhead, turned in a somersault, and then shape-shifted into a scarred man in black and purple cultist robes, landing lightly on his feet.

“I was wondering where you two were!” said Genji, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ve missed the brisk sea air of your monastery, Master, it saddens me to leave it. But the world calls me--does it not call you, Witch?”

“There is a lot to learn out there,” said Mercy.

“If you have a journey, you have a journey,” said Zenyatta, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You will always have a place here.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Genji, before smiling and looking at Mercy, “And what of you, Witch? Are you ready to leave as well?”

Mercy tucked her hair back and found she was gripping the samphire she had plucked with white knuckles, “I--yes--yes I am,” she said, looking up at Genji.

----

“Remind me again, the point of this,” said Gabriel as he and Moira stood in an ornate septagonal chamber. The chamber had six mirrors, one on each wall, with the exception of the wall containing the door they had just walked through to enter.

“You now walk a line between two worlds, Gabriel,” said Moira, walking to the mirror closest to them, “If we are to free you from the witch’s magic, we will need the help of others who walk that same line.”

Gabriel would have frowned if his pumpkin head was capable of any other expression.

“We’re bringing more demons into this?” said Gabriel, “More damned?”

“If the flame of creation is ignited and spreading in the mortal world, then war is coming. A war between the seen and unseen. We will need allies,” said Moira.

“I was already fighting that war,” said Gabriel.

“You were a child digging a line in a sand to catch the waves washing in amongst his ankles. The tide is coming in now,” said Moira, putting a hand to the glass, “I doubt your god is on your side now, so you will have to make do with me.”

The glass seemed to shift and melt under her touch, their reflections dissolving into darkness and mist. Moira held out her other hand to him and he took it, and they both took a few brisk steps through. There was a sound like the last bits of water in a tub rushing down the drain, and then a brief dipping sensation, like reaching the bottom of the stairs, expecting floor, and finding there was another stair, and then they found themselves on a stone threshold in a high-ceilinged stone room. There was a guard slumped against the wall, dressed in a fine uniform of black velvet and partially leaning on his halberd like a drunkard on a lamppost. He shook himself up to attention as Gabriel’s boots thudded clumsily on the stone floor and he flinched hard at the sight of Moira.

“Oh merde--” he drew a horn from the interior of his cloak and blew it in a stumbling fanfare. Four other guards suddenly charged into the room, halberds at the ready and looked genuinely stunned at the appearance of Moira and Gabriel. He had a corpse-like scent hanging about him that Gabriel thought should bother him more than it did. He noticed his sense of smell was a lot stronger now than it had been when he was alive. He didn’t like it. He couldn’t shut out senses to sleep--he wasn’t even sure if he could sleep anymore.

“Announce my arrival to your comtesse and have her gather her court,” said Moira.

“Th-The comtesse is indisposed---” the guard stammered.

“Do you know why she had this mirror in her chateau?” said Moira, stepping forward.

“Y-yes, Madame, but--”

“But? But what?”

There was a brief tense silence in the room.

“But... the last time you were here was, according to the records, 114 years ago,” said another guard.

“And?” said Moira, “Was there an expiration date set on the terms of her recognition of my sovereignty?” 

“N-no, Madame--”

“Then have her gather her court,” said Moira.

“You heard our honored guest,” said another voice, smoky and smirking. There was a purple flash and guards parted to reveal a woman in an armored doublet and a black hood. She seemed to be fussing with the last buckles of her doublet, and a few stray strands of dark hair hung out from under her hood, as if she had just been roused from bed. Human. Gabriel could smell it on her, warm, and distinct from the rest of the guards. He could smell a faint stench of death on her too, but it clung to her skin like a lover. He could smell magic on her, too, but not like the Witch, more like the metallic smell that issued off of his own adder stone after he had it for years.

“Who are you?” said Moira.

“I serve the comtesse. Come with me,” said the woman, walking out of the room. Moira and Gabriel followed after, 

“You would think the comtesse would keep her estate in better condition,” murmured Moira, “Guards in disarray... food lying around...”

All of the guards escorting them toward the throne room suddenly stopped. The woman glanced over her shoulder at Moira and Gabriel.

“What?” said Moira.

One of the guards leaned close to the hooded woman, “What would you have us do, Spymaster?”

The spymaster shrugged, “She is visiting royalty. Let her have her words. They reflect more on her than on me. Just continue escorting our guests to the throne room.”

“Spymaster?” Moira repeated, incredulously, “Since when would the comtesse keep a human spymaster?!”

“We’re very progressive here,” said the spymaster, a smile in her voice.

There was a brief second where Moira’s eyes flashed yellow, cruel and dead like ghost lights, and a few white streaks suddenly threaded through her hair, but she seemed to regain her composure and her eyes and hair returned to normal.

“Hard to keep the glamour up when you’re mad, huh?” said the spymaster, as they continued down the halls. 

“I know saplings older than you, little insect,” Moira scowled.

“Invite them to court, then,” said the Spymaster, pushing open two massive doors into a throne room. 

The comtesse sat on a throne in the center of the room, a guard at either side of her. Her skin was deathly white, her lips were red and wet, her eyes were yellow as an owl’s, and her black hair was tied back in a loose and low ponytail in a red velvet ribbon. She wore a loose white shirt, the frilled collar of it plunging to her sternum, and high-waisted black trousers. She leaned her head against the knuckles of her hand, looking like all patience was already exhausted by the time court was called.

“Queen Máire. It has been some time,” said the comtesse, not making any movement to rise from her seat as the spymaster took her place at her side.

“Comtesse Amélie,” Moira bowed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Amélie.

“Would that I could have called in happier times, comtesse,” Moira started.

“Only had 114 years,” the spymaster whispered into the comtesse’s ear and the comtesse snickered.

Moira briefly bristled but continued, ignoring the slight. “I’m sure by now you have already heard of the events at Adlersbrunn,” she said. 

“Yes,” said the Comtesse, “My spymaster is very good at keeping me abreast of the news of the world.”

“Then you know that that news shall spread. It spreads faster in shadows but soon, more mortal ears will hear of it, and more weapons will be drawn against us,” Moira gestured at Gabriel, “I have with me the first casualty of the war to come--bound by magic in servitude to a human, denied the dignity of death.” 

“So the pumpkin’s not a fashion choice?” said the spymaster, leaning against the throne.

“This is a perversion of what magic is supposed to be!” said Moira, gesturing at Gabriel, “This is pain and suffering, wrought by human hands!”

Thanks, thought Gabriel, who would have rolled his eyes if his pumpkin head allowed it.

“And it was wrought by the flame of creation,” said Moira, “Something never meant for a human to wield!”

The comtesse sat up in her seat slightly, apparently more interested now. “The flame of creation hasn’t been snuffed out?”

“It nearly was, but apparently it has been passed down, from human witch to human witch,” said Moira, “I can see through the eyes of crow and hare and hound, but you, comtesse, have far more eyes on wings. If the flame of creation is spreading through the world, then that means this world will re-make itself. It means that war is coming. And I would ask for your allegiance in the war that is to come. Lend me your eyes. Join your strength with mine, and we may survive it.”

The comtesse kept a steady, yellow-eyed look at Moira and Gabriel, and then sat up in her seat slightly. She put a hand on the shoulder of her spymaster and they shared a few whispers. The spymaster shook her head and the comtesse seemed thoughtful for a few seconds, then whispered something more to the spymaster. The spymaster gave a shrugging concession and the comtesse seemed satisfied before turning her attention back to Moira and Gabriel.

“I do not deny that a war is coming, my Queen,” said the comtesse, sitting up in her seat in a bit more stately fashion, “However, my kind can endure through war, and it has endured by not drawing attention to itself. We will clean up the bodies, we will keep ourselves fed, perhaps even grow our ranks in the bloodshed that is to come, but only a few of my kind can even walk in daylight-and we have come to far more...” she glanced at her spymaster, “Symbiotic relations with the humans in our land rather than isolating ourselves. War may be coming, but I will not seek it. Not until it is fully necessary.”

“But our allegiance--” Moira started.

“Was one of non-aggression,” said the Comtesse, “I remember the terms well. But my duty is to my people, first and foremost. Surely your majesty understands that?”

“Of course,” said Moira through gritted teeth.

“Is there any other way I may be of service to you, your majesty?” asked the comtesse.

“No,” Moira’s voice was sharp and brittle.

“You are welcome to stay in the château for as long as--” 

“I have my own estate,” said Moira, drawing herself up to her full height, “I thank you for your time.”

“I understand. Guards, see to it that her majesty finds her way back to the mirrorgate,” said the comtesse, “It’s been an honor, Queen Máire.”

“Lady Amélie,” Moira said with a bow before turning on her heel and walking out with Gabriel and the guards.

Gabriel didn’t say anything as they were guided back to the room with the mirror in it. And he found it prudent not to mention the streaks of white that where threading through Moira’s hair with fury as they walked. They stepped back through the mirror with little ceremony and after another stomach-turning trip through darkness, found themselves back in the septagonal room of Moira’s own underground queendom.

“Well...” said Gabriel folding his arms, “That was a wash.”

“It wasn’t,” said Moira, looking back in the mirror and inhaling to bring her hair back to its previous red shade.

“Please tell me we aren’t going to try the other five mirrors,” said Gabriel.

“No, not yet. I believe it should be very easy to convince the Comtesse to see our view of things,” said the Moira.

“She sounded pretty sure of herself back there,” said Gabriel.

“There’s more than one way to make your point,” said Moira, alighting a violet sphere of black magic in one hand.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” said Gabriel.

“I said I would help break the magic binding you, Gabriel,” said Moira, “I didn’t say you would like it.”

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 44: Scrapbooking

Bold italics are trollish.

This story is NOT back on its old weekly update schedule! Chapter 43 was a week late, and I happened to finish this chapter 'on time' and decided to update to match the alternate-Fridays that I wrote on my calendar. The next chapter will be two weeks from now unless it's late again instead.

Becoming The Mask

+=+

Bagdwella had offered the two human girls a seat on the box spring mattress that she had not yet disassembled to get at its bed coils, but Mary and Darci had turned her down. Instead they were sitting back-to-back on the short wooden bench that Bagdwella stood on to reach high shelves. Apparently there were tiny insects that sometimes lived in old mattresses and the humans didn't want to risk the parasites crawling into their clothes.

Each girl was writing something. Sometimes Mary referred to her phone before making notes. Darci would pause and tap her chin with her pen before returning to her papers.

"How do you spell 'divorce'?" Mary asked. They had a dictionary with them, but Darci was using it.

Bagdwella spelled it out, carefully enunciating the runes for the girl to copy down. Mary chirped a quick "Thank you!" and ducked back down over her notebook.

The humans had come earlier that night, asking if they could work on whatever they were doing in Bagdwella's backroom. She suspected it was some kind of assignment from Blinky. Or perhaps a surprise for him, since they weren't working on it in the library.

The silly man had such a dry, academic way of teaching language. Bagdwella simply had to take it upon herself to step in and teach these whelps how to converse like proper trolls. Blinky was a better choice for writing lessons, though, being one of the few people she knew who read for enjoyment.

Oh, she could appreciate good record-keeping, and in a more abstract way she understood the value of collecting knowledge, but stories just felt stilted to her when they were written down instead of spoken.

Why Mary needed that particular word, Bagdwella couldn't fathom – had the human mistranslated something? Should she have asked her what she thought it meant in English?

"What is it you two are up to?" the shopkeeper finally asked.

"Translating stories about our families," said Mary. "This one is about how my parents got divorced and my mother got married again. She was smart, the second time. She insisted they get … premarital counselling. If Mom and Dad had bothered with that, they might have realized they shouldn't get married before they did."

"But then you might not exist," pointed out Darci.

"I'm not saying there wasn't a silver lining."

Bagdwella didn't know what lining something with silver had to do with anything. It didn't have a very appealing flavour, and the shades it developed when tarnished were pretty but not enough to make up for the metal's relative softness, so trolls didn't use it much in food, tools, or decor. It was probably a human saying. She was pretty sure they considered most metals valuable.

"What is premarital counselling?" she asked instead.

"Uh … counselling, before marriage?" Mary explained haltingly. "When people, who want to get married, talk, to … sometimes a leader, an Elder, like Vendel. Sometimes a … therapist … like a medic, but for thoughts and feelings. A person whose job it is, to make sure people who want to get married talk about … the things people should talk about before marriage. Things people who don't talk will fight about because they don't agree but did not know."

Bagdwella nodded thoughtfully. "Your parents did not do this, but your mother and her next spouse did?"

"Yes, exactly."

"That is …" Darci frowned in a way Bagdwella was learning to recognize, the furrow-browed looking-up expression of a human who knew what they wanted to say but didn't know the word for it. "That's kind of heavy, don't you think?" Darci said in English instead. "I write – written – am writing, about my older brother teaching me to drive."

"I need to explain why the divorce. My parents both are good people who learn from their mistakes. They did not divorce because one did something bad."

+=+

Claire knocked once on the nursery door, a hard thump, before entering.

"I need you to check my trollish." She shoved a three-ring binder at the Changeling.

"Uh?" said Enrique, not dropping his human face.

"For the love of," Claire muttered, not specifying what she was invoking the love of. "Fine. You know what, fine. Please check my trollish."

Enrique shapeshifted obligingly and took the binder. "Was that so hard?" he teased. He made a show of examining the angular squiggles, turning the first few pages with a solemn expression, and then handed the book back to her. "Looks troll-y to me."

She rolled her eyes and pushed it towards him again. "I meant see if my grammar's okay and I spelled everything right."

"I'm not much for spelling. And yeh'd have to read it out for the grammar bit."

"… What, you can't read?"

"I'm picking up English and Spanish okay," he said defensively, gesturing to the shelf of storybooks.

"Jim can read trollish."

"Yeah, well, Jim is a madman who thought it was worth the risk, annoying Gunmar's advisor like that. Plus he's had Strickler and the other Mister Six Eyes to keep the lessons up since he left."

"Left? Left where? The Darklands," she answered her own question. "But, wait, I still don't get it. If you guys are supposed to be spies, why didn't anyone teach you to read and write?"

"If we're s'posed to be spying on fleshbags, what'd we need to read in troll for?"

"Ciphers?" she suggested immediately. "I mean, it's still a language so it's still got patterns, but it would take longer for a human to decrypt one if it's not based on a human language."

"… Some of the higher-ups know it. Could be why the rest of us don't." Make it a status thing. Control access to information.

Or maybe Claire was just smarter about spy stuff than Gunmar was.

+=+

"So, we've been thinking about what you said," said Darci to Blinky. "And you're right. We went too fast, suggesting to Vendel that he should let us tell our families about trolls."

"And yet somehow I find myself suspecting that you are not telling me this as a precursor to setting that goal aside."

"We're asking him, all of you really, to trust complete strangers just because we vouch for them. And that wasn't fair. And there's not exactly a way for a troll to get to know a human without secrets coming out."

"Or is there?" said Mary dramatically.

Claire handed Blinky the binder he'd noticed she was holding behind her back. "We've collected some pictures of our families, for putting faces to names, and we're writing down stories about them – you know, anecdotes. Memories. Stuff they've done and that shows what kind of people they are. We're going to get Toby in on it, too. Maybe Jim, if he's got anything that can calm Vendel down about Dr Lake knowing already."

"And once Vendel knows everyone by proxy," continued Mary, "he should be more okay with actually meeting them."

Blinky took the binder cautiously. It wasn't heavy, and the stiff covers closed triangularly around the pages. Perhaps twenty pages, he estimated, which was quite respectable considering these three could only have been working on it for a few days.

It was divided, inside, with tabs to skip directly to any of the families described therein. The first section was Darci's family.

Several pages of photos grinned toothily out at him, captioned with names written in both the humans' Roman alphabet and phonetic trollish transliteration, and sub-captioned with each human's relationship to Darci. Mother, father, older brother; three living grandparents, plus one in a group picture who was noted to be deceased; and a maternal aunt and uncle and two cousins, with a note clarifying that Darci did not expect Vendel to agree to meet her entire family, only that knowing who these four humans were would help the stories make sense.

Blinky restricted himself to skimming only the title of each anecdote, though it was tempting to thoroughly read the one about the driving lesson right away, and move on to the section about Mary's family.

This section followed the same format. Blinky was impressed and proud that they'd managed to write almost the entire thing in trollish. He turned to the section on Claire's family and, three pages in, froze up.

The photo had to be of the Changeling that the humans had taken to calling Not Enrique – yes, that was how the caption identified him – lit by the blueish glow of the crystal staircase. The picture was lower quality than the others, as though the camera weren't as good, or as if it were a close-up of a larger picture.

Blinky already knew the Changeling had gotten into Trollmarket. They hadn't exchanged words yet, but he'd met the boy. And from his interactions with Jim, Blinky had really thought he was at peace with the idea that Changelings could be allies; friends; (perhaps family).

He should not be reacting to this image with the degree of shock and horror that he felt – this sense of no – this sense of wrong.

"I … do not think admitting to Vendel that one of your family members is known to be a Changeling will reassure him that it is safe to trust the rest of your relations."

"But he should take it better if we come clean than if he finds out later, right?" said Claire. "I don't think any of us can pull off acting like he got swapped after we tell our parents what's going on. And Jim said Vendel knows he's a Changeling."

"I honestly can't say what Vendel's reaction will be. But I can say," closing the book firmly, "that this was a highly dangerous picture to bring to Trollmarket." Hard evidence of Changelings amongst them …

Well, very strong circumstantial evidence. One slightly out-of-focus picture of a young troll with a handwritten caption claiming the youngling was a Changeling was hardly a compelling case.

It could still be enough to have Claire imprisoned on suspicion of conspiring with Changelings, since she had brought 'her little brother' to Trollmarket while knowing what he was. And from there, the Trollhunter's identity could be exposed, and even Vendel's protection – Vendel's collusion with the conspiracy to allow a Changeling Trollhunter to live and to operate freely – would likely not be enough to save Jim's life; and probably the best Blinky could hope for himself would be banishment.

"Okay," said Darci, jolting him out of his thoughts. "So what if we took the stuff about Not Enrique out for now, and told Vendel later? Do you think learning more about our families would help convince him?"

"… Possibly," Blinky conceded.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Various characters try to comfort Toby in the aftermath of a nightmare)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Barbara finds out Draal has been living in her basement)

You would not believe how long an internal debate I had about whether Enrique would say 'spy stuff' or 'espionage strategy' in his own head. 

On the one hand, inside his head he's got no one to perform for except himself, and so he doesn't need to dumb himself down to remain underestimated. 

On the other hand, speech patterns can affect thought patterns and it sounds weird phrasing it like that when the scene is supposed to be in his voice.