#that awkward moment when your whole brand is speaking the truth but instead you make shit up that causes real people real harm

[elgatodeltren]

Exaggeration in stand up comedy is a given. No one is saying that the words comedians say on stage should be taken as gospel truth.

….but an exaggeration is saying “I was struck by a flying projectile” when the truth is “a friend threw a pencil at me.” A LIE is saying “I spilled a mysterious white powder from an anonymous envelope onto my toddler and we rushed her to the ER because we thought it was anthrax” when literally none of that happened

[aenaxes]

congrats on 200 my dear!!! i’m so happy i found your writing and look forward to being better friends!!! anywho, the celebration must commence! 🍾 🎉💕 ily!!

for requests, i gotta go w my main man, my first clone love, the darling hardcase (i swear he doesn’t get enough love) 💕 we’re both touch starved adhd fools who love a little too much sometimes and i just wanna smother him w my 🐱 in all the affection he deserves. if you’re up for it, maybe some soft smut for your local bottom? 🥺 i’ve been wanting to get a tattoo that matches his facial markings and wonder how he’d react to seeing it during a gentle moment between the two of you. my pronouns are she/they & i’m 5’6, and i have dark green hair + blue eyes.

you and me & me and you

[hardcase x afab!reader] there is little permanence, and all of them are fleeting, in a war that tips its scales with each new dawn. so while hardcase is away, you decide you’ll carve out your own constant between you and him, and him and you.

warnings: tattoos, unprotected vaginal sex, mushy gooey feelings pt.2

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: my love for hardcase grows day by day, and every day i wake up and cry a little bit because he isn’t real. but it's ok bc ily jj and you're very much real 💕

Seldom do you find Hardcase stunned into complete silence.

Stillness shared between you and Hardcase, rare as those moments may be, is never truly silent. Tackling each other onto the couch, stealing late-night speeder joyrides, sharing the kind of banter that doubles you over so hard your ribs sting for hours afterwards—the energy, the light, linger in the spaces left behind.

But this time, Hardcase simply stares, jaw slack and eyes wide as your fingers curl over the lifted hem of your shirt. No wisecrack quip, no teasing wink, not even so much as a low whistle as you tug your shirt over your head and drop it behind you, straddling his lap over the edge of the bed.

Eyes full of stars, he gawks.

“You—those’re my—hm, okay, wow, uh, hah—” Hardcase’s voice pitches high as his lips open and close around half-formed words.

You watch the whole spectacle as he gasps like a landed fish, grasping for wisps of coherence. And you can’t help the giggle that rises from your throat when he forgoes words entirely and trails off into a breathless half-whimper half-laugh.

“Can I—” he says at last, and his voice cracks hoarse through his sputtering attempt to regain what little composure he had. “Can I touch it?”

At your nod, Hardcase reaches forwards just enough that his fingertips barely brush over your chest. You don’t dare look down to where his calloused fingers meet the skin above your ribs, too afraid that if you take your eyes from Hardcase’s face for even a single heartbeat that you might miss a precious moment of the awestruck wonder in his expression. You find yourself as transfixed as he as you watch him trace the trio of royal blue ink arcing down your sternum and tapering off into twin circles that cradle the curve of your chest.

It’s what this whole evening has been leading up to—your grand reveal kickstarted by his signature lung-crushing hug on the hangar bay. You had braced for it harder than usual when he’d swept you into his arms and lifted you off the dusty platform steel, readying for the particularly bruising ache that comes with the week-old ink needled over the base of your ribs.

To be fair, it wasn’t possible to greet Hardcase without creating some sort of commotion. Even if it was just shy of a week on planetside escort duty, once the gunship was within a metre of the dusty landing bay durasteel, landing protocols be damned, Hardcase would hit the ground running, tossing his helmet behind him and swooping you into his arms. The sheer, unadulterated joy of reunion always found home in how he squeezed you around your middle and spun you about; it was always worth the solid smack over the back of his head (stern, from Rex and, gleefully, from Jesse) for throwing his bucket aside.

But when you had met him with more of a pained grunt than your usual tittering exclamation, Hardcase had dropped you so quickly you’d almost fallen backwards if not for his reflexes to steady you. When he’d stumbled over wide-eyed apologies (and braced past Jesse’s open-palmed whap over his head), you had only laughed and told him to wait until after you had run inventory with Rex.

His fingers finally pause their slow trace over the tattoo on your chest. He feels, sees himself, an emblem on your skin. And when he looks up, he sees you.

“Tats are sore for a bit, ‘Case,” you smile. His eyes are so wide you’re certain if you look just a little more, you’d see yourself in him. You and he, he and you, the same, the same, one. “‘s why I flinched a little.”

Hardcase’s lips open and part around soundless words a few more times, still floating in some limbo between processing disbelief and boundless excitement before he unevenly clears his throat and finally speaks.

“You—you got me inked on you?” Hardcase whispers. Each word has the corners of his lips curling higher as if he had to speak into realization what stood before him; as if his fingertips pressing tender divots into your skin were proof only of the flesh: a universal truth that only needed words to find home in his heart.

You nod, grinning.

“Wanted to have a part of you with me for while you’re away.”

And for a moment, Hardcase’s fingers are the only motion in a still room, stroking soft, repetitive motions over the blue ink of your—his—tattoo.

You silently brace for something loud and present, excited rambling, another crushing hug, affection swept wide and open before you. Instead, Hardcase lets free a single breathless huff and tugs you close.

“You know those are forever, right?” he laughs, his voice rising again.

“That’s why I got it,” you respond, and his laughter only grows brighter.

Hardcase buries his nose into your chest with a groan, and that precious crest of joy bursts over your tongue when you throw your head back and laugh. Gilded and honeyed light finds home in your chest.

“Mesh’la, I need you so bad right now,” Hardcase groans as he brings his arms snug around your waist. And his laughter joins yours this time, voices swelling together when Hardcase rests his brow against your skin and pulls you in close. You make quick work of the rest of your clothes, throwing them somewhere off to the bedside before you sit back down over the firm lines of his thighs.

“I mean, yeah, I sure hope so—was the whole point ‘Case,” you tease, and Hardcase groans, carrying something of breathless disbelief and affection and desire curled into a single whimpering sound.

And as soon as you’re squeezing over his shoulders, suddenly, you feel your gravity tilt, and you yelp as your back connects with the bedspread.

Hardcase cages you under him, one arm propped by your head as the other slips from beneath the small of your back and trails its way back to the centre of your chest, hovering just at the edges of your tattoo. He lingers, treading those shallow waters for a moment more. But where you expect the familiar drag of his blunt nails over the bold lines of blue ink, he dips low. Instead, you gasp when his fingers are replaced by his lips, warm, inviting, home as he presses a single, lingering kiss over the sigil branded into your skin.

“‘Case!” you giggle and kick out your legs at the sudden flick of his tongue over your chest. You feel him laugh into your skin, his breath wisping over where his lips just brush over the edges of the tattoo.

He ghosts one more touch, drawn long and yet chaste in how he nuzzles the tip of his nose into your chest. And the bubbling laughter of before wanes, complete, when he lifts his chin and meets you with the hushed whispers of a smile on his parted lips.

Because it’s him, finding home over the base of your ribs.

It’s him, reflected back into his wide eyes.

It’s you.

He doesn’t surge up to meet you. He doesn’t kiss you with that unabashed brilliance that crushes your lips together so hard your teeth clack. The breath catches in your throat as you watch him move in silence. There is no overexuberant joy when Hardcase shifts higher up on the bed to meet your eyes and slowly runs his thumb over your lower lip. Even then, his touch is so achingly still, deliberation held close and savored slow.

He blinks once, dark eyes full of the soft light only privy to early mornings and late nights when you curl close and bask in each other, bared and whole. You grant his request without hesitation.

Starting low, your fingers smooth over the faded lines of blue tattooed over Hardcase’s chin, the same sigils you keep as your own. Well worn and faded until the line between ink and skin disappeared entirely, the tattoos beneath your fingertips are nothing and everything like yours. You trace higher, following the crest of his lip, the high line of his cheekbone, the dip just beneath his eye where his tattoo begins anew.

He closes his eyes and lets your touch trail over his lashes until your fingers slope over his temple and still over the base of his head. And when he dips his head low, you meet him in the middle, catching his upper lip between yours as he slips one hand between you and thumbs over your tattoo. That touch anchors you as much as you think it must do the same for him, pulling you close and keeping you there while you lick over his lips and breathe him in deep.

Through the warmth heavy in your gut, you feel him slide his other hand down your side, over the contour of your hip, and lift your leg up against him. You hook your leg over the small of his back and tug awkwardly, sending him stumbling forwards, crushing his hand between your chests as he dips down and narrowly catches himself.

No amount of awkward maneuvering breaks the rosy air between you, even as you both tear away from each other to stifle the kind of laughter that lingers.

“This okay?” he murmurs over the waning sigh of a low chuckle, voice warm on your skin and drunk with your taste. He nudges his hips forward, sending a shiver shocking up your spine when you feel his cock brush up against the swell of your cunt.

“Always, Hardcase,” you whisper.

As soon as the words leave your lips, you barely have enough time to suck in another breath before you’re stuttering on your own tongue. The tension slumps out of your shoulders as Hardcase digs his fingertips into your thigh and presses forwards, stretching you out around him in the way only he knows how, setting fire to your nerves and coming home all at once.

No matter how many times you kneel before ritual—habit coming to you as natural and comforting as breath itself—you still find yourself slack-jawed and starry-eyed as Hardcase pushes into you.

That it’s the first time in his four month tour that he’s able to pull you apart and hold you together only makes it better.

It takes all of one long, shuddering exhale for him to push into you in full. The breath you share breaks that stillness, a gasping inhale as his hips connect with the soft curve of your thighs and has the blunt head of his cock nudging so deep in you that you swear you feel the pulse at the base of your ribs, right where your tattoo swells with your whimpering.

Hardcase drops forward with a groan, blindly twining his fingers with yours and leaning down to press his forehead close against yours.

You don’t have to open your eyes to see him as you squeeze his hand. The bridge of his nose flush against yours, you bask, exchanging the warmth of breath over the little space between your lips. With his brow pressed into yours, he surrounds you, warmth, warmth, warmth, a setting sun and the grass it kisses still glowing in its wake. He rolls his hips forwards and swallows your wailing moan with his tongue.

Hardcase starts slow, setting a pace that has you feeling every long drag inside you as he draws back then crushes back up against the soft spot inside you that curls your toes. It’s a far cry from the excitement of a welcome back or rendezvous reunion, swapping giddy haste to savor instead, to melt over his tongue as Hardcase slips his free arm under your hips and tugs you impossibly close.

Through the blissed-out tears beaded over your lashes, you can just make out his expression, tense with cresting pleasure, as he leans back and admires you, stretched out before him. And when your legs jerk this time, there is no achingly deep pressure of his cock heavy inside you—only his lips over the centre of your chest as he bows low and kisses your tattoo again, again, laying and sealing claim above the rapid flutter of your heart.

You squeeze his hand, and he lifts his chin to meet your hazy eyes with his own, full with intent, desire, the kind of loyalty transcendent above anything he could ever swear to his generals, to his cause. He squeezes back.

You drop your head back onto the bed when he picks up his pace again, moving his free hand out from under you to stroke his thumb over your clit and smearing the mess of your arousal and his precome over where you stretch around him. Chest heaving, you can only sob and grip tight around his neck as he leans back over you and nuzzles his nose into your collar.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell your breaths apart from his after one stuttering thrust gives way to another. The steady tenderness of before bows under the fizzling heat in your stomach, giving in to rawer need as Hardcase’s movements over your clit fumble erratic. He snaps his hips against yours and drives up hard against your pleasure, mumbling unknowable words under his breath. Desperate for more, you shift back to meet what thrusts you can.

When he leans forwards again, his brow unsteadily knocks against your nose before he can nuzzle over your forehead and press close. You might have laughed, taken the moment to catch your breath over the clumsiness of affections swelling high. But you’re too busy chasing your own pleasure, too enamored with the wet friction of his throbbing cock sliding into your cunt.

Hardcase comes first, thundering rigid through him as he buries his nose at the juncture of your neck and bites down over his own teeth, his jaw flexing against your skin. His tension spreads through you, holds you by your breath and seizes the mounting want in your stomach tight with each heavy spurt of come he grinds into you.

You nose up against his temple—a silent plea for touch even deeper than you already feel it—and he indulges you. Hazy in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Hardcase lifts his head from your collar and crushes his lips against yours. He breathes in your heaving exhales as he kisses you, all open-mouthed warmth coaxing your pleasure.

“So lucky,” Hardcase mumbles, his puffing exhales over your lips matching every thrust into your dripping cunt. “Maker, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

Before you can strain some half-hearted tease in response, you’re too delirious on your rousing high. All you can manage is a soundless cry that shocks straight to the white-hot heat welled low in your stomach. Hardcase rolls his calloused thumb over your clit one last time and pulls your orgasm heady and low beneath him.

Pleasure bursts over your tongue, thrumming through you hard enough you swear you black out. Nothing but paralyzing and indulgent sensation shocks through you. There is only Hardcase’s presence to anchor you to the moment in the most intimate signs of life: shared breath, fingers laced tight with yours, lips mouthing words that need neither name nor sound to find warmth at the bottom of your chest.

And when the moment subsides and the ringing in your ears fades, you open your eyes to him, glowing with exhaustion but beaming down on you all the same.

“Maker’s really lookin’ out for me,” Hardcase says at last, brushing his fingertips over the sweat beaded at your temple.

“Yeah?”

You tug him closer against your chest (as well as you can with the tremble in your arms). He follows your lead as you feel him softening inside you, and he settles his nose close over your tattoo, just beneath your beating heart.

“I mean, whatever it is, it got me you.”

“You got me you, ‘Case,” you say. Though the air between you is far from the kind of existential solemnity that demands silence, your attempt to laugh comes only as a soft whisper, hushed as your lips brush over the crown of his head.

Because whatever was up there, pulling those galactic tides and willing life into the universe, even if it had tied those fine red strings strong and true between you and the man curled around you, it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was you and him, brought together in a headfirst collision in the cold steel halls of a Jedi cruiser and bound tight over shy planetside advances and cheesy dates.

“Then I got you, and you got me?” Hardcase chuckles, lifting his head and meeting your fond gaze.

“Just us,” you laugh.

Hardcase makes a soft noise of affirmation, his arms pulling snug around your middle. He nuzzles close skin over skin, and when he kisses over your tattoo, the sting of ink and needles fades into a distant memory unknown—all worth the trembling touches he presses over the place you’ve carved out for him alone.

Maybe the Maker helped along the way, but it’s always been you and him, him and you.

[kaisa-ryo]

Itadori Yuji NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Itadori likes to chat for a long time. Topics for communication are usually very diverse: from listing the different sex positions he wants to try, to discussing brands of cars, televisions, types of soaps and colors of underwear. In parallel, Yuji will stroke your back, causing your body to creep. So the love attraction that you already experienced with him before suddenly takes on a special intensity. When he has a need to receive your affection, he will begin to sink under the covers until he rests his nose against your chest or stomach. By this action, he asks you to play with his hair. At this moment, he may stop talking altogether, because instead of chatting, he will hum with pleasure. In addition, he will try with all his might and in various positions to snuggle up to you with his strong male body. And you will begin with great skill to stroke his hair and gradually increase the pressure in order to induce real ecstasy in him.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Obviously the hips and butt.

It is a blissful feeling when he squeezes your buttocks as he continuously enters you. And in the morning, when you start looking in the mirror, you notice that your thighs are scarlet. As you examine yourself, Itadori in the next room sees your stunned expression in the mirror and smiles proudly.

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

He usually ends up on the aforementioned body parts. Although he experiences no less high pleasure when he watches how his hot semen flows down from your vagina. Or the mouth. And if you also swallow his seed, it will completely discourage him. It's so awkward and at the same time arousing when a girl literally lets a part of you into her. It's like you start making it a part of yourself. The part of his soul that passes through your body, moving on to the next stage of orgasm.

D = Dirty secret

To tell you the truth - there are a lot of them. Despite the fact that he almost always speaks with you frankly on intimate topics.

He often thinks about how he will kick you through the school desk and fuck you under the light of the graceful sunset that falls through the half-open blinds.

About how madly tempting it would be if you suck him off somewhere in the closet.

How to fuck you by the sea on soft sand.

There is no limit to these secret desires. Someday he will definitely tell you about all of them. And, of course, it will.

E = Experience

The highest level of experience in intercourse is masturbation. Yes, he has seen a lot of different videos on porn sites and instant messengers. And of course, he remembers them every single one. He has a lot of sexual fantasies. And they are all related to you. But they need to be implemented.

It will also ask you about your experience. For example, can you do a blow job. If you do not know about any sexual arts, he will certainly show you a video, explain how and what to do, ask if you like this objectively.

You can even say that he has much more indirect experience than you. But Yuji likes it. I like to teach you everything that he himself knows from the erotic videos he has watched.

F = Favorite position

In general, you have tried an innumerable number of poses all the time, but none can compare with the one when he presses you into bed from behind. When your penis plunges into the innermost and holds you so tightly that it begins to seem as if it has completely absorbed you.

G = Goofy (Are you serious at this moment?)

In most cases, yes. Even if this is not the first time you have been doing this, this does not mean that intercourse may not go well. But sometimes passionate excitement can outweigh all expressions of seriousness and turn it into entertainment or stress relief.

H = Hair (Is the hair ok?)

Not that he regularly tidies them up, but tries to make sure that both of you are comfortable. Maybe he prefers not to show it, but Itadori is really worried that you will be uncomfortable. Although the hair itself does not really interfere.

I = Intimacy (Romance)

Yes. And a lot.

Itadori literally melts when he sees you smile, the reason for which is his sweet and romantic actions. For him, there is no line between "boyfriend" and "spouse". And, of course, he regularly scrolls in his head how you have a large shared apartment, wedding rings, children ...

The guy is ready to even get you the moon from the sky, just to see your charming smile once again, to feel how you jump on his neck and say that you love him with all your heart. Sometimes he gets carried away - and then his hand reaches out to you to stroke your cheek, circle around your neck, say some banality, without which it is difficult for you to live. And sometimes you think that at such moments Itadori... looks a little more naive. But he does not see anything wrong with this and continues to cherish you, like the most priceless treasure on earth.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

It happens. And even after the start of your relationship.

In moments when you are far away, he records your telephone conversation, asks you to throw off your photos, turns on a home video taken once secretly from you ... then he starts "playing with his snake", quietly moaning your name. And if you start writing or talking on the phone, how much you want him now, it will just go crazy, imagining how he is fucking you on the bed right now. After all, it is such a pleasure to realize that your body receives only what you so passionately dream about and what you want.

— Mnh... yes, y/n... please continue...

K = Kink (Kinks and fetishes)

As mentioned earlier — home video. Yuji prefers to do this in secret, since he knows it will embarrass you. And besides, you will immediately guess why he does it.

He also has one fetish that you know about. Namely — voyeurism. When you change clothes, stand in the shower, or try on a swimsuit, he closely monitors your actions while standing outside the door. So he initiates you into his intimate world, where you can become his muse.

In addition, he has several types of perversions that he considers esoteric. For example, he really loves to admire your naked body and inhale its aroma, starting from the neck. This also applies to your personal things — your scent is also felt on them, and Itadori constantly examines and sniffs your things, hoping to feel your scent. It's kind of like a drug for him, and he likes to wake up in the morning and feel that your hair is still felt on his neck. And if you put on his clothes... it seems like some kind of new fetish. Now on his things your next smell. It's fucking exciting...

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

It makes no difference. The place does not depend on the amount of pleasure received from the process. True, you still have to find compromises. Because if it is convenient for him to hold your legs, simultaneously entering your bosom again and again, then it is quite problematic for you to be in the air, holding on to his shoulders. Thus, you get less pleasure. But do not think, he is not a rabbit, to fuck you wherever he wants, the guy will definitely ask if you want it. And yes, he does have a line between "normal" and "too public."

M = Motivation

All your movements are in clothes, which emphasizes the whole aesthetics of your body. As if hypnotized, Itadori watches your curves, how they change when you change posture or movement. When you are in your underwear, you specifically approach him and start to flirt playfully. When you wear his things, as mentioned by the way earlier. And oh shit, how turns him on when you show yourself a new swimsuit and ask to rate.

N = No (Which won't do)

Anything that will harm you. It doesn't matter whether it's big or small. If Yuji feels that he can be rude to you, then he will definitely warn you to tell when it hurts. After all, on the verge of orgasm, he may not notice that you are uncomfortable or unpleasant.

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

More is to give. His head is blown away because you are moaning his name sweetly and loudly, demanding more. Your morning kiss and praise for being amazing last night will give him confidence. And then, perhaps, your next night will be even better than the previous one.

Although one should not ignore his desires with needs. The guy will be very upset if, for some reason, you do not give him pleasure with oral sex.

P = Pace

In this he is a real professional Yuji knows perfectly well how to stretch pleasure and orgasm as much as he wants. A small effort of will is enough for him, which he has at least a spoonful.

At first he will start with smooth movements, and then gradually accelerate. At the same time, it will be easy to prolong your pleasure, because you will feel the strongest sexual charge directed in your direction. And with each strong orgasm, you will experience not only physical, but also mental pleasure.

Q = Quickie

From slow and smooth thrusts to wet and hot suddenness, it makes you feel your own intoxication, as if you are high. Superhuman abilities do give good results. As it turned out, not only in sports.

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

In other matters, he is unlikely to refuse, since he himself has long wanted this. But Itadori is a responsible person, so he will think a hundred times and make sure that you accept the offer accurately. Do not be surprised that he will act agitated during such sex. He, like you, understands that this risk is serious and can create real problems.

S = Stamina (Stamina)

You should prepare caffeine and energy drinks, as this machine will squeeze everything out of itself, despite the fact that you yourself were exhausted already in the third round. He will not be enough all the time, and if you ever start to black out from fatigue, the guy will scream that he has not finished yet. It even forces you to limit the number of your intercourse per week, as his stamina is exhausting. And you've told him about it more than once.

T = Toys

In this regard, Yuji is more cunning and impudent. He always refuses to have toys for himself, although he himself does not mind tormenting you with a vibrator or even slipping it into your panties, justifying this by the fact that he does this to keep you close, at the same time showing his concern for you, flickering his ghost in your head. But he's not lucky that you're not such a naive fool. Despite this, the guy gets hit on the head, with a very convincing request never to do this again.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Very much not even against, but not much into it. Over time, it bothers both you and him, and all actions cease to be unpredictable.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

Pretty loud. But in the volume of your moans, you take over.

They start with stifled growls, to groans because of how fucking amazing and sexy you are. And it all ends like a sugary, but trustworthy silence. Your loud moans of pleasure are a sign that you both were good.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

Once there was a case where Yuji could not come. He felt that he could not come even if he wanted to. His arms and legs seemed to be glued together, and he himself froze. I started to panic, think of reasons in my head. You, in turn, noticed this too, and when you asked what was the matter, Itadori turned pale and speechless. After that, he sat down on the bed, and here you started to worry. It turned out that he had masturbated too much over the past month, which has formed a habit of certain stimulation of the penis. At the news, you laughed, and he blushed. But at the same moment he exhaled with satisfaction. The guy was glad that the reason was not in you and not in his health.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

16 cm. During erection ± 2.5

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

Sex serves him for several purposes: relieving stress, sexual tension, just as a way to prove his love for you... Sometimes the beginning of sexual intercourse depends on his arousal. But for your sake, he's trying his best to hold back. Resorted to masturbation instead of sex, but as you already know, even this has its own problems. Seeing him so depressed, you also do not bypass the mutual concern. Even if you don't really want to do this or you are not in the mood, you will never refuse him. Although you will never let him relax and stop controlling himself. Do not miss the opportunity to talk to him about this, because, of course, he also needs it - to get rid of an inferiority complex and so on...

Overall, ± 8/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

Quite surprisingly, even in spite of his endless chatter before going to bed, as soon as he put his head on the pillow and lean on you, he falls asleep instantly. You feel him in your arms like a small hyperactive child who constantly wants to tell you something or, out of habit, make a row. And myself in his arms — protected by a large and strong wall.

[robininthelabyrinth]

This is a very vague plot but I would love to read an Emperor or very powerful WWX fic from you. I enjoy Boashan Sanren’s Emperor!WWX AU and I also love fics where WWX really is powerful and free to kick ass and just wreck shit. I really think your take on these tropes would be an interesting one and enjoyable read for all. Thank you for all the fics and your efforts in the fandom so far. Take care yourself. ☺️

fictional 18th century France in which the entire century is happening at once - part 2  

- for part 1 see: ao3 or tumblr -

Wei Wuxian came to Nie Huaisang for advice.

Well, technically, that’s not quite right, Nie Huaisang reflected. Wei Wuxian, when faced with a situation that exceeded even his formidable talents, reverted back to his old ways in times of severe crisis. Namely, he ran back to ask for advice from his adopted family – which by this point consisted only of Jiang Cheng, what with the majority of the Jiangs having perished in the infamous massacre. 

(The newspapers had dubbed it “le massacre des lotus”, a poetic way to elide the horrific mess of blood and death and despair that it had actually been.)

Naturally, Jiang Cheng didn’t have any idea what to do with the hot potato he’d been handed, and so he, and Wei Wuxian with him, came to Nie Huaisang, who always knew what to do. Who else did they have to ask?

Sure, Nie Huaisang supposed they could have gone to seek the advice of Lady Jin, formerly Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng’s older sister, but luckily Jiang Cheng was self-aware enough to know how much of a political disaster that would have been. Regardless of her personal merits, of which Nie Huaisang was certain there were many, the former young lady Jiang had married into the Jin family, a move that was widely viewed with suspicion. 

After all, the spectacle of yet another wealthy noble marrying another wealthy noble in exactly the sort of thing the Revolution and the abolition of noble privileges had been meant to stymie – and this particular marriage especially suspect given that everyone knew that the Jin family’s politics leaned heavily monarchist, having only just barely refrained from becoming émigrés themselves by the thought of the financial advantages they thought they could get following the fall of the Sun King.

For the Jins, the marriage had been a coup, giving them a claim to legitimacy in their new era; for the Jiangs, it was far from being the best move, politically speaking, no matter how much they swore that it was a love match.

It must have been, for the normally astute Jiangs to make such an unforced stumble.

The marriage itself was bad enough, but if Wei Wuxian, grand (if highly unorthodox) hero of the foreign wars, was seen consulting with the Jins, allowing them to influence him…well, it wouldn’t end up good for anyone, except maybe the ones who wanted to overthrow the Revolution and reestablish the rule of the Wen dynasty on the basis of the divine right of kings.

Apparently, chopping off the heads of the last set wasn’t enough to warn the rest of them off.

Fucking émigrés.

At any rate, that was how the whole mess had ended up in Nie Huaisang’s lap.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking at me to tell you,” Nie Huaisang said, idly fanning himself. That wasn’t exactly in fashion either – fans were very much seen as an affectation of the previous political order – but it was garnished with the appropriately patriotic rosette and anyway, everyone knew he liked fans, useless self-indulgent dandy that he was. Good only for throwing parties and keeping an active salon for his own entertainment, albeit one very in vogue and coincidentally very popular with all the famous revolutionary thinkers of their day.

Besides, no one in their right mind was going to claim that Nie Mingjue’s little brother wasn’t sufficiently revolutionary.

“Don’t pull your good-for-nothing stunt with me,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes at him. “I was there when it all started, remember?”

Jiang Cheng had lucked in to being there when it all started, since unlike many of the other people Nie Huaisang had so carefully invited to his salon, Jiang Cheng had been invited purely on the basis of being an old friend from school. That he’d become a hero of the Revolution instead of being imprisoned and executed after the massacre of his family by the increasingly paranoid and dictatorial Sun King was his own good fortune and hard work, naturally, but he wouldn’t have even known where to start if it hadn’t been for Nie Huaisang and his connections.

“I remember,” Nie Huaisang said. “I also recall that you and Wei Wuxian broke ties long ago, isn’t that right?”

Obviously that little façade had been entirely political.

It would have been awkward for Wei Wuxian, darling of the armies and terror of the continent, inventor of a brand new form of warfare and at least half a dozen new pieces of artillery, to be so closely tied to any one noble family, no matter their history together. It would have led to accusations that the Jiang family was seeking to take advantage of the Revolution to strengthen their own power, no matter how passionate a revolutionary Jiang Cheng was personally - the Jin sect had already started spreading rumors, casting allegations, implications, smears...

Their show of very publicly disowning each other had put an end to that.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently, because he knew that Nie Huaisang knew that it was all bullshit, even if the newspapers Nie Huaisang bankrolled pretended to swallow the bait down whole. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes at him. “We’re friends. But because we’re friends, I’m going to tell you flat out that you already know what the choices ahead of you are and you know which one is the best move. What you want is for me provide you with any other options, and I’m not going to be able to do that.”

“This is just insane!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. He was pacing around the room, face pale and cloak black, as looking dashing as always. Nie Huaisang wanted to get out his paints and force the man to pose for him and maybe a dozen or so of his closest artist friends; it would be stunning. “I can’t – why would they ask me? A few years ago, I was just an artillery captain! Son of a servant and a runaway novitiate!”

“The whole point of the Revolution was to favor merit, not birth,” Nie Huaisang reminded him. “And anyway, who cares that you were an artillery captain back then? You’re a general now. The Lion of Yiling.”

“The Menace of Yiling, the Fiend of the Burial Mounds, the Nightmare of Europe…” Jiang Cheng murmured, recounting some of the less polite versions. Nie Huaisang waved his fan at him – he wasn’t helping.

“Your brother is a general, too,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, a little desperately. 

It wouldn’t help him.

“Mm, he is. He’s also nobility of the sword - well, saber - from a line that has existed for generations, even if we did have rather ignoble origins,” Nie Huaisang said. He was not without sympathy for Wei Wuxian’s predicament, but really, some things were obvious. “We all know he’s the incorruptible and all that, but it’d be far too easy for the newspapers - and our enemies - to paint him as having done it all for his own selfish interests. There’s a reason he announced all the way back at the beginning of the wars that he wasn’t interested in political power when he was done, that he’d retired like a modern-day Cincinnatus. Who would have trusted him as commander-in-chief if he hadn’t?”

“Me,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “Sane people, if they’re thinking straight! Your brother is incorruptible. He doesn’t even like war, even if he’s damn good at it. People should be chomping at the bit to get him to be the one – the one to – !”

“They are,” Nie Huaisang said dryly. “The innocent ones and the ones egged on by the Jin family both. They know the only way to tear down his influence is to get him to make a mistake.”

“And you won’t let him do that,” Jiang Cheng said knowingly.

Nie Huaisang snorted. What did Jiang Cheng know? “I didn’t need to say anything. He was offended on principle by the very thought of it.”

All three of them sighed in unison – Nie Huaisang a little long-suffering, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian a bit dreamily.

It was a good thing Nie Huaisang had long ago accepted that every young man in France between the ages of twelve and thirty four, at minimum, was at least a little in love with his brother, or else he would have found it all far more aggravating than he did.

“To get back to the point,” Nie Huaisang said a moment later. “There’s simply nothing for it: you have to be the one to take it. No one else will suit half as well as you.”

“Why does someone have to take it at all?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “The principles of the Revolution -”

“Because we can’t function with these endless wars on our borders, as well as within them,” Nie Huaisang said, losing patience, and both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian scowled, not wanting to accept the truth of what he was saying. “We need a stronger executive than we have right now, simply put. As for the form of that executive, well, the Revolution simply happened so fast that people are refusing to accept it without at least the trappings of the ancient regime - even if it’s not quite the same as the last time around. And as for why you, that’s because you can be trusted to shepherd it, to let it grow to the maturity it requires, and we will not fear you clinging to power when the time comes for it to return.”

Wei Wuxian scrubbed his face. “You trust me too much.”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “You’re upright, moral, selfless…it helps that you’re exclusively interested in men, of course. No heirs means no dynasty.”

They both started spluttering.

“Oh, I’m sorry, had you not realized that yet?” Nie Huaisang barely bothered to hide his smirk behind his fan. “I thought it was obvious. You flirt with women for sport, not profit, and of course there’s your taste in pornography…”

“Back to the subject!” Wei Wuxian shouted, his normally shameless face flushing bright red. “Back to the subject!”

Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut, making them both jump.

“All right,” he said. “Back to the subject: you have to become emperor, Wei Wuxian, or else someone else will, and they’ll be worse. I’m not saying that you’ll be good at it, or that you’ll enjoy it, or that it won’t end up with you exiled to some island in the middle of the ocean for thirteen years before making a miraculous return to save the country from itself –”

“Oddly specific.”

“Be quiet. What I’m saying is that you have to do it. The army supports you because you’re their darling, the people support you because of your victories in the war, the Jin and the other aristocrats support you because they think they can manipulate you through Jiang Yanli, the Lan and the other members of the Church…well, to be frank, most of them think that you’re a horrible blasphemer, which they think about all of us, but if you agree to let them crown you they’ll get over themselves and endorse you anyway. Even the foreign nations that we’re currently at war against would support your ascension to the position because the greed for power of a single man at least makes sense to them and accords with their understanding of history, as opposed to our Revolution, which is new and makes them afraid of what they might lose if it’s allowed to live. In short: it has to be you.”

Wei Wuxian sat down heavily on the couch. Jiang Cheng went over and put his hand on his shoulder.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “What about the rest of them?”

“The rest of them?”

“The other revolutionaries. What will they think? Your brother – he’s one of the most ardent proponents against the institution of the monarchy. How can he be happy with an empire?”

Nie Huaisang went and sat next to Wei Wuxian, pressing a nice pastry into his hand. “You went to the same classes I did, Wei Wuxian. You know that in ancient Rome, the position of Emperor - the imperator power - was originally established in the form of the ‘dictator’,” he said. “A magistrate granted absolute power in extraordinary times, for a limited time, for the purpose of rescuing the Republic.”

The most famous example of which was, of course, Cinncinatus, the man his brother was so often compared to. 

He thought Wei Wuxian would be a good example of that selflessness as well.

“I did attend class, and more often than you did,” Wei Wuxian said with an uncalled-for amount of snark. “And I remember very well that in ancient Rome, the institution of the position of Emperor meant the death of the Republic.”

“But not this time,” Nie Huaisang said confidently. “That’s what all our enemies will think, yes, but in truth you’ll be a dictator in the old-fashioned sense of the word: you’ll take the power, you’ll do the work, and then, when the Revolution has progressed enough to continue on its own, you’ll step down. My brother would support something like that. They all would.”

“But what if I don’t step down? What if the power goes to my head and I start to see myself as – as essential?”

“Three things,” Nie Huaisang said. “First, you’re an arrogant piece of work who already sees yourself as essential, and it hasn’t made you go crazy yet. Second, you’re fundamentally lazy and indolent at heart – take it from someone who knows – and while you’re very industrious if you think it’s your duty or the right thing to do, if given a chance to do the right thing by not doing work, you’d jump at the chance.”

Jiang Cheng looked as if he would protest the characterization, but Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d always loudly dreamed of retiring to the countryside to be a farmer or a mad scientist or something, and if Jiang Cheng had always thought he was joking then Nie Huaisang, at least, had not made that mistake. “And the third thing?”

“If you really do end up fucking it up, my brother will turn Baxia on you.”

Jiang Cheng choked, and Wei Wuxian snorted. 

“That’s oddly comforting, actually,” he said, and smiled. “Okay. Fine. You’re right – I’m the only one that can do it and do it right. And since that’s the case, I’ll accept: first the position of Consul, and then, as necessary, the position of Emperor. But you have to help me – you, your brother, Jiang Cheng…even Wen Qing. I insist on it; I won’t let her get executed just because of her name.”

“I can work with that, and really, no matter what the Jin say, I don’t think that’ll be a real issue. Having a daughter – well, cousin, but who’s counting – of the former dynasty working for you is a good move,” Nie Huaisang said. “Set her up with something that’s both important and yet non-political so people don’t feel threatened…revitalizing the hospitals and improving public health, maybe. She’d like that; didn’t she always want to be a doctor instead of a princess?”

“Anyone else I should make sure to add in?” Wei Wuxian asked. His eyes were avid and serious, which he rarely was in peacetime; Nie Huaisang looked forward to the day when he could be frivolous and light-hearted again. 

Still, it was good to see that he was committed.

“Jin Guangyao is the least objectionable of the Jin family, even if he is a belatedly recognized bastard,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s more treacherous than a snake, but since we know that, we should be able to manage him appropriately. Put him in charge of the police and the spy network; he’ll do wonders with it.”

And probably end up assassinating his father, but in Nie Huaisang’s opinion that wouldn’t be that bad of a thing either. He resolved not to mention it to the others.

“Jin Zixuan isn’t objectionable,” Jiang Cheng put in.

“No, he’s very pretty,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “Your sister can hang him on her wall as artwork.”

“…he really doesn’t have many other talents, does he?”

“I’m given to understand that he spends money very well,” Nie Huaisang said dryly, and both men winced: as a dandy, Nie Huaisang had the most experience in such things. “You should also take Lan Wangji into your administration.”

“Lan Wangji?” Wei Wuxian’s face was a bit red. “Doesn’t he hate me?”

“After all the polemics he’s written in your favor, you still think he hates you? Just because of your little tussle back at school? Please get over yourself.”

“They’re in the Revolution’s favor, not mine…”

“Actually, no, he’s right,” Jiang Cheng said. “There are definitely some explicitly in your favor, and he wouldn’t do that by mistake - not with how eloquent a writer he is, even if he’s practically a mute in person. But...Nie Huaisang, what role would you put him in? He may be from a family that’s closely affiliated with the Church, but he’s not actually a priest himself – and anyway, if we were going to have to appoint an archbishop to help support us, I’d rather it went to someone like Xiao Xingchen. Everyone likes him.”

“And the fact that Xiao Xingchen is beholden to no one and interested in charitable works to the exclusion of all else is an extra bonus,” Wei Wuxian said, showing that he did, in fact, know some politics underneath his thick-skulled appearance. “But that’s a good point. What role did you have in mind for Lan Wangji?”

“I mean, ideally he’d be Empress,” Nie Huaisang said breezily, and enjoyed seeing Wei Wuxian’s face heat up and Jiang Cheng start spluttering again, “but since that’s at least ten years out, might I suggest appointing him as your chief of staff, and his brother as your foreign minister? That way you can keep Lan Wangji nice and close by, his aura of righteousness and habit of policing everyone around him will help stop the flow of corruption, and it’ll appear as though you’re using him as security against Lan Xichen – nice and distant and not at all corrupt, even as his writings continue to make the populace swoon over you. Jiang Cheng can continue to lead the navy, as he does now, and my brother the army; we can work out peacetime posts for them later on.”

“Hold up,” Wei Wuxian said. “Go back to why he’d be the Empress…? He doesn’t even like me!”

“That’s not the problem with that idea,” Jiang Cheng squawked. “Wei Wuxian..!”

Nie Huaisang went to pour drinks.

His work here was done.

[grailfinders]

Servant #3: Artoria (Alter)

Our next Servant is the Burger King herself, Artoria Alter! Our goals for this build is, unsurprisingly, pretty similar to that of Artoria proper: a fancy laser sword, mana bursts, and as an addition, the ability to summon a skeleton army to help sack Fuyuki. Her spreadsheet is here, and details are below the cut.

Race and Background

Like before, your background is Knight, giving you three retainers and proficiency in History and Persuasion. This time, however, you’re a variant human, giving +1 to only your Constitution and Charisma in exchange for starting with the feat Great Weapon Master and Athletics proficiency.

Your skills are similar to your counterpart, taking a hit to dexterity to bump up several of your other stats. We’re using the standard array, but feel free to roll as long as you can multiclass. From high to low, we’re going Strength, Charisma, Constitution, Intelligence, Dexterity, Wisdom. The general reasoning for each is in Artoria’s explanation, but the hit to dexterity is a canonical part of Salter’s kit due to her heavier armor.

Class levels

1. Paladin 1. First level paladins get Divine Sense, letting you sense extraplanar entities that would threaten your rule, and Lay on Hands, because you can’t trust anyone else to help you in a moment of weakness.

2. Paladin 2. Second level paladins get a Fighting Style: you specifically get Great Weapon Fighting, so you can swing around Excalibur Morgan like it ain’t no thing. You also get Divine Smite, giving you the option to burn magic for extra damage, and your first taste of Spellcasting. Paladins have their whole list open to them, but can only prepare a number of them equal to their charisma mod + 1/2 their paladin level. I suggest focusing on the various smites available to you because who doesn’t love more sword on their sword, plus Command. You’re the king, and everyone should listen to you.

3. Paladin 3. Third level paladins get to pick their oath, but you’re going to start out as an Oathbreaker, because nothing’s more important to you than staying on the throne. You gain the channel divinity powers Control Undead, because not even death can end your rule, and Dreadful Aspect, because repression is for suckers who lose to their son. You also have Divine Health, making you immune to disease because you’re just that scary. 

At this level, you also pick up Hellish Rebuke and Inflict Wounds as oath spells, because if someone’s stupid enough to attack you they deserve to be set on fire.

4. Warlock 1. First level warlocks get a patron, yours is The Grail, a Great Old One. It gave you these shiny new powers, and in return you stuff your face with burgers. (That’s how this works, right?) You also receive an Awakened Mind, letting you telepathically speak with anything less than 30′ away from you; perfect for intimidating people who don’t speak your language. And people who do. Honestly if someone started talking in my head I’d just do what they asked me to.

You also receive your Pact Magic. Like before, the slots don’t mix with spellcasting, but you can use warlock spells in paladin slots and vice versa. For cantrips, take Booming Blade because it’s basically a free smite and Eldritch Blast because the alternative is a warlock not taking eldritch blast, a literally unthinkable event. For first level spells, take Cause Fear to stop the populace from rebelling and Arms of Hadar to make them regret trying in the first place.

5. Warlock 2. Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, you’re getting Agonizing Blast to make your Eldritch Blast more worthy of coming out of your sword and another, easily replaceable one. You also gain the spell Hex to make your blade just that much sharper.

6. Warlock 3. Third level warlocks get their pact boon, and you enter the Pact of the Blade, giving you a magical weapon you can bring into and out of existence as a bonus action. At this point replace that other Invocation with Improved Pact Weapon, giving Excalibur +1 on attack and damage rolls and turning it into your spell focus. You also gain the spell Shadow Blade, which is a bit awkward at the moment, but the free advantage in darkness is well worth it.

7. Warlock 4. Fourth level warlocks get an Ability Score Improvement, split this one into Strength and Charisma to make your enemies’ lives more painful. You also gain the spell Mind Spike, letting you hunt down enemies of the crown (i.e., your enemies) with unfailing accuracy.

8. Warlock 5. Fifth level warlocks get another spell. Take Enemies Abound to help open your enemies’ eyes to how the world really works. You also get another Invocation, in your case Eldritch Armor, letting you don armor in an action instead of several minutes. With any luck you’ll be convincing your DM to let you doff armor that fast as well, or else the next two levels are pointless.

9. Barbarian 1. Switch into barbarian mode to pick up Unarmored Defense, turning your minimum AC to 10 + Dex + Con, and Rage, letting you Mana Burst to gain advantage on strength checks, resistance to all kinds of damage, and a damage bonus to your melee attacks, all at the cost of not being able to cast or concentrate on spells while doing so.

10. Barbarian 2. Gain Reckless Attack to gain advantage now in exchange for your enemies gaining advantage later, and Danger Sense to help bolster your weak dexterity.

11. Warlock 6. Back in the powerful class, you gain Entropic Ward, letting you impose disadvantage on an attacking creature and giving you advantage on your next attack as well. Now you can have all the power of the reckless attack with only some of the downside. You also get the spell Fear this level, letting you - and more importantly, your enemies - see their greatest fear. If this doesn’t just make another copy of you, you haven’t been beating them enough.

12. Warlock 7. Seventh level warlocks get another invocation. This time take Devil’s Sight. It’ll make sense in a few levels, I swear. Also pick up your last warlock spell, Shadow of Moil. Again, if someone’s foolish enough to hit you, they deserve whatever’s coming to them.

13. Paladin 4. Fourth level paladins get an Ability Score Improvement, which you’ll trade in for War Caster. All these spells are useless if you can’t cast them with your sword in hand.

14. Paladin 5. Fifth level paladins get an Extra Attack, as well as 2nd level Paladin spells. You receive Crown of Madness and Darkness as oath spells, and I recommend looking at Branding Smite and Zone of Truth. It’s important that your subjects are honest with you. You will make your subjects honest with you.

15. Paladin 6. Sixth level paladins get an Aura of Protection, granting a bonus on all saving throws you make equal to your charisma modifier, and making all attempts to dethrone you that much less likely to succeed.

16. Paladin 7. Seventh level paladins get an Aura of Hate, granting you and your undead allies (don’t worry they’re coming) a bonus to all melee damage rolls equal to your charisma modifier, and making all those who attempted to dethrone you that much more penitent. 

17. Paladin 8. Eighth level paladins get an Ability Score Improvement,  dump yours into Strength.

18. Paladin 9. Ninth level paladins gain access to their third level spells. You gain Animate Dead and Bestow Curse as oath spells, finally giving you troops that are actually loyal to you. You should also look into Blinding Smite and Dispell Magic, just in case any fool thinks some enchantments will be enough to even the playing field against you.

19. Paladin 10. Tenth level paladins get an Aura of Courage, rendering you immune to being frightened. You’re much more likely to be the one doing the frightening anyway.

20. Paladin 11. For your final level, you receive your Improved Divine Smite, adding 1d8 radiant damage to all of your melee attacks. 

This build is much more offensively focused than the original Artoria’s, trading dexterity and health for raw strength and combat spells. Like the original, you’re able to fight both in close and mid range, supplementing your physical prowess with magic when needed. Unlike her, you fight dirty, blinding and frightening opponents, and outnumbering them with skeletal minions.

Unfortunately, all those extra warlock levels were as healthy for you as those burgers you love so much, causing a slight dip in your health. Several of your spells are also concentration based, so you can’t use shadow blade and darkness or Shadow of Moil at the same time. Also like Artoria, you need to get your DM’s permission to make your mana burst shine.

[punoy]

Blood of the dragons: A post-canon concept.

Lucina wanders the globe acting once again as a symbol of hope. Morgan desperately searches for a way to reunite their family. Marc is hiding they key to potential disaster.

This is just some musings I had thinking about what life could be like after the events of Awakening specifically for the children of Chrom and Robin. I don’t believe this is what likely what happens after canon, just concepts I found fun to play around with. This is a clean up of an exchange I had over discord, so it’s still a bit of a mess in terms of structure, but hopefully still comprehensible! It’s not really a fic, so I’m not too worried about the flow.

※ Chrom/m!Robin. This could really be for either, but it was written for the intent of m!Robin and as such will reflect in the pronouns. Marc is female!Morgan while Morgan is male!Morgan. They were both found at the same time and both have amnesia. In this timeline, Chrom and Robin only have Lucina. The first part is more Lucina-centric while the second part is more Marc/Morgan-centric.

Now that’s out of the way, let’s go.

Side: Lucina

Lucina doesn’t stay long after Robin disappears. She sticks around and tries to help stabilize Ylisse and to help the communities affected by the influence of Grima. To be by her father’s side helping the people she failed in her own timeline is one of the most treasured experiences she has. But that’s just it. She failed them in her timeline. And now that everything is returning to normal, she feels more out of place than ever. Walking the halls the perfectly maintained castle in Ylissitol feels absolutely foreign to her. Not to mention seeing a younger version of herself toted around and cared for. Chrom doesn’t beg her to stay, but he wishes she would. (He’s lost so many others, and he doesn’t want to lose her too, he doesn’t say.) Lucina wanders Ylisse acting as a mercenary and humanitarian, not being able to bring herself to leave the continent completely. She still loves her father and doesn’t wish to see him alone if he is once again in a time of need. Sure, he has her younger siblings, but they’re all but children. But, she needs to find her place in this world (and perhaps she is searching... searching for something she cannot yet admit to herself) and not let her be a shadow for her younger self. She fought for the her of this world to have the childhood she never got to. To live the life she could not. And so she keeps her distance.

Contrary to what Chrom, Marc, and Morgan believed, Lucina did return. It took her many months, but unannounced strolled their wandering princess. She’ll recount her tales across the lands and catch up with her family and friends. Some stayed in Ylisstol and joined the royal forces. Meanwhile, others set off on their own journey to distant lands. Lucina missed her cousin, but she couldn’t speak as she had nearly done the same. As quick as it she came, she left once again, back on her journey.  

This was how things were for awhile. Lucina would come back, they would be a normal family again, then the feelings of being a byproduct of a cursed time would bubble up inside again. Lucina would leave until she was able to face them again. Marc and Morgan especially had her anxious. She didn’t tell a soul more than she needed to as to not resurface bad memories, but the two fell under the influence of Grima after he had invaded the castle. She tried to escape with them, but she was unable to help.  If possible, she would rather meet her family outside the palace, away from the place he had lost them.

At the times Lucina was in Ylisstol, she tried her best to avoid her younger self. She isn’t quite ready for either her or this small child to face each other. How was she going to explain all of this? She didn’t want to pressure her younger self or act as some sort of aspiration. She wanted little Lucina to live the life she wanted, without some reminder of the failures she may become. So, for the time being, the few times Lucina was with her younger self, now old enough to talk and read and write, she was Aunt Marth. She looked quite passable as Chrom’s sister, no? Although, it was hard to hold her tongue and not address him as father.

Marc and Morgan had to get used to being the older siblings. They do recall Lucina from their time, and she was always the one taking care of them. Now, Lucina is ages younger, and they’re the responsible ones. They both grew into their own, Marc following in her fathers footsteps to becoming a tactician, while Morgan studied under Miriel to become a researcher of magic. But, they still made time to hang out with their little sister. It was hard not to project the Lucina of the future onto her, and they really tried. But, they couldn’t help but be a bit sad their sister was hardly ever around.

Robin returns five years later and Lucina rushes to Ylisstol as soon as word reaches her. She can’t help but feel frustration that she left partially in search of him, yet he was found the one place she could not look. She cannot contain her joy that her father is back, he returned to them, and she has the family she needed. Perhaps, she can stay longer this time.

Robin can’t believe the amount of time he’s missed. Lucina is a no longer an infant, but a young girl! He already feels regret missing out on the youth of the older Lucina, despite not having any control of that time. He doesn’t want to let another moment slip away from him. He is so proud of everyone. Ylisstol is stable for the most part, Chrom is loved by all, the tensions with Plegia have mostly subsided and they’re working towards a bond not built upon lies. Ylissians are sending aid to Valm to help their recovering nations. Not to mention his children, all blossoming in their own fields.

In the year that Lucina spends in Ylissitol, she doesn’t shy away from her younger self as often. They develop somewhat of an awkward sisterly bond. She tries not to say much about her past or compare herself to her. She truly is happy that child Luci gets to have this life, and now that she’s stopped running, she can have it too. Little Luci can hardly help but look up to her. This fantastic princess who roams the world to bring hope to others? What a dream.

Luci, now ten, has started to become wise to how dodgy her family is when it comes to their past. Marc and Morgan don’t seem to be able to tell her anything before she was born. Chrom always gets really nervous talking about his “sister.” Aunt Marth barely even seems to know her father. No one will answer why was Robin gone when she was really little. She vaguely recalled this loud man telling her stories and waving around his... his brand? She couldn’t be remembering that correctly. The only people that could be was Marc or Morgan but she swear it wasn’t them. Also... just how old was her parents when Morgan and Marc seemed so big now. Over the years she prodded for answers, not really suspecting much, just being a curious child. But, she slowly came to accept there was some truth to her family they were keeping from her. She knew enough it was probably better not to ask if they haven’t told her yet.

Luci gets to be a bit older and, ever the studious one, begins reading through some accounts of the war. As princess, she’s obligated to stay aware of current events to prepare her for the future where she may rule (which is becoming ever more a reality as her older siblings don’t seem that interested in the throne.) She begins with the war between Plegia and Ylisse. It seems so far away, the reality that her grandfather inflicted upon her parents and aunts. Then, she reads about the peace Emmeryn brought, wishing she could have met her one day. The resparking of the war with Plegia was next. She knew the toll it took on her father and the regret he felt causing all this loss, the trust of the citizens, lives of the innocent, his sister. She is about to call it a night before she gets to the war in Valm. She so happens to find a particular account that catches her eye though, a roster of soldiers enlisted.

Funny that. Someone with her own name appears on the list, fighting alongside her parents. Perhaps she was named after her? Marc and Morgan are here too. Strange, her parents couldn’t have been older than their twenties, so what were her siblings doing in the army? Now that she thinks of it, her fathers said Aunt Marth had served with them, but she’s nowhere to be seen in the reports or the rosters. She sets out to ask her parents about it soon after.

“Who’s Lucina?” “You, of course.” “No, I mean. She was a soldier in the army but she didn’t have any additional information on her in the log books. Did you know her?”

It was at that time, Chrom and Robin realized, perhaps their daughter was old enough to know. She generally knew of the Grimleals and their god, but never did she think her own father would be the key to this whole conflict, the vessel of a chaotic god. Not to mention her siblings were from a completely other time. And why everyone fell just short of saying “You remind me so much of your aunt.” 

Hanging out with Aunt Marth, now herself from another time, she knows, has become strange. There used to be moments when she would catch Marth about to say something, but not follow through, laughing it off as some joke she just remembered. Marth would be standing and watching wistfully from afar. She was always accepting of whatever she wanted to do because she couldn’t do those things in her youth. It all made sense to her now, but she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Little Luci continued to look up to her older self, but instead of feeling inspired she was left with feelings of inadequacy. How could she live up to one of the heroes that saved Ylisse? What if she didn’t grow up to be as strong or skilled as her? This is exactly what Lucina wanted to avoid and told her as such.

“I made my sacrifices so you could make your mistakes. Please, live for yourself and not try to live my life. This is the world we fought to make for you. Give it all that you have.”

Side: Twins

※ Takes place starting simultaneous with side Lucina and then after.

Marc dutifully takes up the the mission of becoming Ylisstol’s next royal tactician. She learned from the man who won a handful of wars and saved the world! She knows she isn’t as experienced as her father, he could easily best her in any manner of tactical thinking games and practice, but in his absence, she would have to make do. Chrom was competent enough on his own to be able to handle the military and command by himself, but it endeared him that his youngest daughter felt that prideful connection to Robin. He gave her all the resources and tutors he could, but they were no replacement for her father. 

Morgan dreamed to become a researcher, learning the causes of the universe’s phenomena. To understand just a fraction about the gods. With a focus in magical studies, he joined Ricken under Miriel’s tutelage. At first his intentions seemed to be very pure, to learn and understand what makes the world what it is, but he couldn’t help but wonder something very specific about his own past. The path he was taking might be the road to finding it.

He was always more curious about his and his sister’s amnesia. Robin’s was caused by Grima willfully wiping his memory, but what about theirs? From the accounts of him and his twin sister, he had begun to piece together something puzzling. Their memories contradicted Lucina’s own. Chrom and Robin died so young in her own history, just after Marc and Morgan were born. Lissa raised them until even their aunt and other closest allies fell. Then, Lucina was left to care for them on her own, all while leading a rebellion. She didn’t go too deep into what became of them, but given her grave expression, it was most likely not good. Meanwhile, the few memories Marc and Morgan could recount were rather happy. They were mostly of Robin, occasionally featuring Chrom or Lucina. They had memories growing up in the castle with their parents. Trips to Plegia and Ferox. Travelling with Robin and their sister. All the way up until they were in their early teens they could remember always being by Robin’s side. Morgan came to the conclusion that it was highly likely they came from another time, separate from Lucina’s and the other children. 

Their past was a bit of a sore subject between the twins. Marc had accepted her amnesia for some time. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little curious about her memories, but she never went out of her way to look for them. She was perfectly happy enjoying the life she had now, especially now that Robin was back. Morgan on the other hand, loved his family, but now believing that they were from another time, wanted to know what that was. They’re the only remnants of that world held within this one.

An argument sparks between the two over this.

“If it’s true we’re from another time, what happened to father?” - Morgan “I suppose he would probably be looking for us on the mountain we were found on.” - Marc “And that doesn’t bother you? We just left him all alone?” - Morgan “That isn’t our time anymore. Of course I don’t want him to be alone, but we’re here now. There really isn’t much to be done about it. We can be with the family we have.” - Marc “But what if we could do something about it. Would you?” - Morgan.

While Morgan hasn’t found it yet, he poses Marc with a simple hypothetical, if they had the option to return to their time, would she take it? Marc denies any furthering of the thought. She’s not planning on wasting her life thinking of the hypothetical of abandoning her family when she could be making the most of her time with them. Lucina didn’t go back to her time when all of this was one either. Meanwhile, Morgan is offended at the thought he’d be the one abandoning his family and the implication that he doesn’t care for them. They left Robin to be forever searching on that mountain top, unsure of where their children are. Robin and Chrom have Lucina at least and possibly them if they ever decide to have kids again. Their father only has the one set of kids. And in the case of Lucina, she couldn’t go back because there was nothing left for her there. There is a family waiting for them in their own time.

Eventually, he drops the argument and they decide not to speak of it or to tel their family of it. As they grow older, Marc stays in the castle working alongside her fathers. Meanwhile, Morgan embarks on a quest to discover the true nature of their time. It takes him mostly to Plegia and the Ruins of Time. Occasionally, he even saw Lucina who was out on her own journey. It was in one such time that he asks Lucina about her own world, and how she came here. She’s hesitant to go into the details at first, warning it’s dangerous and irreversible magic. Once there’s a rip in the times, it’s hard to close completely. She had originally assumed that’s what happened to the twins, following after her, but that had now proven to be false. Morgan promises that it’s simply for research, and that he wants to be able to prevent an abuse of time magic. She trusts her brother, and explains what sacrifices and hardships it took to create the portal here.

Marc is so concerned for her brother’s well being. She knows he most likely didn’t stop thinking about it, and she worries for what he’s getting himself into in that world. He wasn’t truly going to leave them, was he? Without saying goodbye if he found his way back? Aside from worrying about her brother leaving, she had questioned why. Why was it they were here? Their childhood seemed so normal compared to Lucina’s. She left out of desperation. What could have possibly happened that suddenly they were with their father on a trip and then they were waking up clueless in the Ruins of Time? She cam to the conclusion there had to be a reason, and she put faith in her father doing this for her own good.

When Morgan returns to the castle with Lucina, everyone is filled with delight. Luci missed her brother. Marc was glad he was safe. Lucina was glad to be home with everyone. It’s been ages since they had all been together. They stay at the castle for awhile, Marc off studying with their father and Morgan seemingly always caught up in his next research project.

One day, Marc notices something strange on her hand opposite her brand. A scar perhaps? Perhaps she had nicked herself while sword fighting, or scratched herself in her sleep. It was insignificant at first. Then, as time went on, she began to notice it take a faint but very distinctive shape, the mark of Grima. She alerts Robin immediately. It’s a major cause of concern, of course. It’s been over a decade since Grima was vanquished. Robin’s own mark had faded as well. Marc begs for Robin to keep this between them, and maybe Chrom for now. She isn’t mentally prepared for the implications of this until they find out exactly what it means. She’s not stupid, and knows that the others need to know eventually, but hopes, just for now, she can keep things to herself.

In an attempt to keep a sense of normalcy, Marc has tea with Lucina and Luci. Apparently Morgan was too busy to join them. Lucina starts sharing stories of her adventures with Morgan as he has been a bit too avoidant for Marc’s liking. It seemed relatively tame, nothing much to do with any kind of timeline hopping. Until Lucina starts reminiscing about her siblings. 

“You two always had your nose in your books, it was hard to get you to look five feet in front of you. You were such nice kids, in spite of everything. Morgan said this a lot, that he was planning on finding a way to save everyone, even though you guys were barely eight. Already looking out for your big sister. Look at him now, trying to set up precautions against other time travelers. I guess he’s finally fulfilling his goals.”

Marc stops her right there. She didn’t.... teach him how to time travel did she? And upon realizing that Morgan has been planning something this whole time, they go to find out what these experiments and projects of his really are.

They find him doing just as they had expected, trying to open a gate through time back to where he came. Before Marc could even get a word out about how betrayed she was, her hand stung with pain. She could feel a long dead god whispering to her, “You will not escape so easily.”

As Marc suspected, there was in fact a reason that they were in this time, but it wasn’t of their father’s volition, but Morgan’s. While she could barely recall more than a whisper of their past, something grave was about to begin, she knew.

Marc and Morgan come from a future where Robin managed to suppress Grima rather than outright killing him or putting him to sleep. Chrom and Robin try their best to keep the world at peace, but Risen are appearing at alarming rates, Grimleal are terrorizing the villages, eventually the chaos even reaching Ylisstol. Eventually, the capital falls and Chrom with it. Robin escapes with Lucina and the twins, desperate to keep the last of his family safe.

They travel Ylisse, fending off Risen, trying to figure out how to rid themselves of Grima’s curse. Eventually, Robin recalls words from Naga. Grima has to be defeated by their own hand in order to truly die. Robin had been able to suppress Grima’s influence to the extent their mark had vanished, but everyone in the family had the unspoken suspicion that it was not quite gone from their blood. Morgan or Marc must die by the others hand.

Robin is not very keen on the idea of letting his children kill the other. He vehemently is against it. They search for other methods for years, but they keep coming back to this. It seems almost like an inevitability to the twins though. Morgan can’t bare the thought of it, but Marc puts down her foot and demands they stop running from it before it gets worse. She volunteers. The mark has begun to manifest on her first anyway. She’s much more vulnerable to Grima, so it should be her to go. Morgan doesn’t see a way to escape this and accepts.

Marc and Morgan go to the ruins nearby to complete the deed. But, just before Morgan is able to go through with it, the Risen attack. Unfortunately, the came alone. They couldn’t let Robin and Lucina stop them. It would be no good if they died like this, and Morgan runs, dragging his sister behind him. And, instead of fighting back, he opens a portal to another time and falls through. And the rest of their days were spent with a father of a different fate.

Morgan and Marc are foreign entities to this world. They are viable vessels of Grima introduced to this world, and with the rips in time that Morgan has been creating, Grima has been slowly exerting his influence on them once again. Even to the extent the mark has rematerialized onto Marc. If he manages to manifest within one of them again, then what? What was all of this for?

Morgan closes the portal he made with the best of his ability. Little did he know, these rifts are not so easily sealed. His fallen father, wielder of the corrupted Falchion, and Risen King, finds his way through to their world.

The Risen King, barely a semblance of the man he once was left in him, still held fondness for his family. He would do anything to see Robin again, even if it means razing the world. Grima has told him, the only way for him to stay with them forever, is to convince Robin to take on his soul.

[This is where I start to lose the plot!]

Imagine the encounter between Risen King Chrom and the Robin of this time. He sees for the first time in years, a Robin that doesn’t fear him. A Robin that perhaps naively thinks Chrom is not a threat, if only they can get through to him. It’s heartbreaking for what’s left of Chrom, to see this young man he loved before his death, but there isn’t enough left of Chrom to pull back.

※  Finishing notes: I know that was a bit inconclusive, but this is all I have so far! As I said, this isn’t really meant to be a fic, just a concept in my head. Feel welcome to send ideas my way about any part of it. Alternatively, if you want to use any of these ideas in a fic, I would love to read whatever you came up with.

Side Lucina and Side Twins were two different conversations which is why they don’t really connect thematically, but in my head they were of the same universe and it felt strange to separate them.

[rwbyremnants]

This one's for all the Kali fans. Sorry for all the long stretches between chapters. Truth is I just don't have any motivation anymore; not just for writing. But whatever, life is dumb. See you all soon.

=Chapter 21

Once the police came, they took one look at the situation and sided with the two women. Though they could serve as a terrible reminder for the rest of their lives, the bloody welts on their faces and arms provided explicitly clear evidence that they had not attacked the man of the house without provocation. Whitley looked shocked and saddened to find out he might actually have been mistaken in his estimation of the situation, and retreated into his room once the officers were through questioning him.

By the time they were wrapping up the scene, carting Jacques off in an ambulance with handcuffs binding him to the stretcher, Pyrrha had shown up out of nowhere. Of course, it wasn’t truly out of nowhere; the presence of police vehicles with their sirens wailing had drawn the attention of quite a few people in the neighbourhood. Weiss could tell her mother was embarrassed at all of the attention, even on top of her behaviour for the past several years of their lives and the truly awful experience of confronting her husband’s true nature.

“It’s good to see you looking more yourself again,” Pyrrha finally breathed as she embraced Mrs. Schnee gently, as if worried she might break her.

“You, too,” she said with a weary smile. “I’ve missed your face around the house. And I’m… I can’t even begin to-”

“Mother had a problem,” Weiss interrupted. “And she’s working on it. That’s all.”

Though the elder woman looked even more ashamed of herself, Pyrrha let out a sigh before smiling and patting her forearm. “Well, that’s all we can do, isn’t it? Work on our problems. I have faith in you.”

While tears were streaming down her face again, Weiss steered her into the living room and sat her down in a chair. She could tell she needed a moment, so she slipped back out the front door again to talk to her friend.

“I don’t know what to think,” she whispered, staring down at the ground. “She’s… this is really hard on her. And you were right about my father. Somehow, I just thought if I kept ignoring the problem, it would go away - and Salem was counting on me to-”

“Shhh.” Her index finger rested against Weiss’s lips just long enough to silence her before she dropped it. “Take a moment to breathe. I know…” She shook her head for a moment. “You’re really in a pickle, Weiss.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve lost my father, my mother is barely holding it together… Yang’s mother hates me. I’ve made a choice to stand by my gal no matter what, but that doesn’t mean everything is about to magically get easy.”

Pyrrha tapped her chin for a moment. Then she straightened and said, “Salem.”

“What?”

“Let’s ask Salem. I believe she would be understanding of your… problems. Besides, you have to tell her about losing your ‘in’ with your father.”

Though she didn’t want to admit it, she knew Pyrrha was right. Salem may have terrified her but it was unwise to sit around, waiting for the High Dragon to find out from someone else. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly before saying, “I suppose I’ll need to ask you for a ride? Although I could probably borrow my father’s car at this point; I doubt he’ll be needing it soon.”

“I’ll drive you,” she chuckled. “We shouldn’t have to risk you getting in trouble for stealing a whole car. What about your mother, though?”

“Oh… go and get your wheels. I’ll be right back.”

Her mother hadn’t moved, other than to curl in on herself again. Weiss knelt at her side, taking her hand between both of her own. “Mommy?”

“Yes?” she sobbed.

“I’m going out now. I… well, there’s something I have to do. With the Dragons. I know you probably hate that I’m-”

“Go on. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’ll worry about you! I just… need to do this. Will you be alright until I get back?”

After a brief pause, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes. As long as you do me one favour.” It cost her a lot to continue. “Go… into the cabinet under the sink and throw away the bottle of bleach all the way in the back. Take it with you and dump it out somewhere, or… or just make sure it’s gone.”

“What?” she asked, completely confused. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Because it’s filled with wine. It’s… I hid it there, because I’m weak… I’m so weak!”

A fresh sob erupted as she pushed her hand into her mouth again. Weiss could understand; if the whole reason her mother had become a wino was because she was upset about their family situation, then she might not be able to resist on a night like this. She was reaching out for help, acknowledging her own limitations. Standing up, she pressed a kiss into her cheek.

“I love you. I’ll take care of it. And… a-and this isn’t forever! You’ll… Pyrrha’s right, you just…”

It seemed they were both out of words. But unlike other times in the past years, Willow reached up and ran her fingers through Weiss’s hair, smiling at her. Really seeing her instead of looking through her at the demons.

“I love you, too, my little angel. See you soon.”

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

Again, Weiss felt awful for lying to someone. This time, it was a small lie.

“Maybe… you should slow down on that,” Pyrrha said in mild alarm as she watched Weiss tip the bleach bottle back again, swigging down the bitter red liquid.

“I’ll stop after this,” she gasped, capping it just as she had promised. “But… Salem scares me. My brand hurts right now from having it smacked with a belt, so I definitely can’t forget how scary the last time was.”

“But you sat with her waiting for Yang, didn’t you?”

Shrugging, she put the wine under her arm as Pyrrha pulled into the lot behind Shopkeeper’s. “We didn’t speak. And she still wore that big cloak. Why do you think she does that? Why is she so, so… shadowy?” But knowing her friend would have no answers, she sighed and smiled weakly. “Thank you for being such a good friend. Maybe… maybe after this, I’ll get my own motorcycle. Start taking care of my own transportation. And then you won’t have to be my chauffeur, which isn’t fair, and it isn’t-”

“I’m happy to do it,” she reassured her with a wide smile. “You’re in an impossible situation, and doing the best you can. Don’t worry about me.”

The corner of her mouth twitched up a little higher. “My mother said the same thing. Not to worry about her, I mean. I have so many selfless people in my life.” Her hand reached over to take up Pyrrha’s. “Come in with me. You know Cinder will be happy to see you.”

“Oh, please,” she tittered, rolling her eyes. Her cheeks did pinken, but Weiss was reasonably sure it was just all the attention; she was still fixated on that blonde boy from her class. Still, she did get out of the car and enter the den of sin.

By the look of all the girls in the restaurant, no one had heard what happened. Either that, or they didn’t care; most of them were relatively unconcerned with Weiss and barely knew her. Only the girls from the high school lit up when they saw her approaching their corner.

“Hey, hero,” Coco said with a huge grin. “Dove right in to get Yang patched up. Not bad, not bad.”

“Maybe we were wrong about you,” Cinder conceded, her manner more reserved as she inspected her fingernails. “Maybe. But I’m fairly sure I’m right about this tall drink of water.”

With a nervous little laugh, Pyrrha waved briefly to her. “Hello, again. We’re actually here because Weiss has some news for Salem. Is she in?”

Inwardly, Weiss felt herself cringe at the way she put that - as if this were some kind of impromptu doctor’s visit. But none of the others seemed to feel the same. Emerald immediately said, “She’s back there, yeah. But she’s in with, um, a client.”

Suddenly, Pyrrha’s question didn’t sound so out of place.

“Wait with us,” Cinder encouraged in a velvety smooth voice, looping an arm around Pyrrha’s back and leading her to the table. Weiss had to suppress an annoyed sigh or a stern comment, but her friend could handle herself. “I’m sure you have some fascinating stories that I’d love to hear.”

Even while Emerald was rolling her eyes, Pyrrha was allowing herself to be seated. Meanwhile, Velvet approached timidly and gave her a quick little hug.

“That was a brave thing you did for Yang, and that boy. Quite brave.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with an awkward smile. “Are Kali and Blake here?”

“No, sorry.”

“Damn,” she sighed, folding her arms over her chest and staring anxiously at the door that would lead to her fate, whatever it may turn out to be. “I was hoping for some support.”

“What do you mean? We can support you!”

Wincing at how that ended up coming across, and at the earnestness in Velvet’s fair features, Weiss flashed her a pained smile. “Oh… no, I didn’t- well, it’s only… Blake and her mother have become close friends of mine. Especially Kali, with how supportive she is, and always, well, mothering! So… it’s nothing against you and the rest of the Dragons, of course. But you know how Cinder and Emerald and those others can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she said with a clearly nervous laugh. “I do.”

That brought back a memory. “What did happen between you and Cinder? I’m almost afraid to ask, but…”

“Nothing worth mentioning, really. Coco loves to be dominant in the bedroom, and I can say the same about Blake to a much lesser degree. That’s fine! But Cinder… it’s a quite another level. She made me feel awful - like I was just an animal to her. A thing. And alright, she did apologise when I told her later that she made me cry, but she also seemed… irritated?” Her slight shoulders raised and lowered. Weiss noticed Cinder was watching them from her seat beside Pyrrha, but she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear a word over Fats Domino blasting out of the jukebox. “As if I ought to have known my own limits, told her in advance. Which I would have if I’d known how much rougher she was! But she didn’t say that, and didn’t shout at me or argue. Just was irritated, as I said. Like a child who’s had their toy taken away because they’ve been a prat; she knew what she did wasn’t on and apologised, but didn’t like that she needed to.”

“Oh.”

“But she really isn’t a bad person,” Velvet said urgently, as if needing to make up for the character assassination. “Truly! Other than that incident, she’s been rather good to me, and agrees that my parents wanting to leave is tragic. And since her own family life is so… well, it is the way it is…”

Nodding, even though what she wanted to do was ask more about Cinder’s home life, Weiss reached up to pat her on the shoulder. This was more important right now. “I understand. Sorry for having to bring all that unpleasantness up again.”

“Oh, no worries,” she said with a wider smile, even if her eyes were still shadowed by melancholy. “That’s life.”

Weiss barely had enough time to drop the wine off with the bartender and head back over to chat with the girls for a minute or two before a man exited the back room. He must have been a Huntsman, because when Cinder and Emerald started booing he merely laughed and made a rude gesture at them, and they laughed, as well. Then Cinder hopped up and glided back there to check on Salem’s status.

“She’ll see you,” she called over to her, beckoning. “Don’t dawdle.”

Weiss wouldn’t have dared.

As usual, Salem was cloaked in shadow instead of her actual cloak, and smoke hung heavily on the air. Weiss didn’t wait for Cinder this time; she confidently strode to the booth and sat in the bench opposite the High Dragon, trying not to wince from her brand being shifted.

“Well?” Straight to business, apparently.

“My father has been arrested.”

“Oh?” she breathed in mild surprise. “Whatever for?”

“Domestic violence. He…”

Only now was Weiss tripped up. She didn’t want to describe what happened, or relive it. But she needed to find the best and most accurate way to retell the tale so Salem would be aware of the situation.

“It’s written on your face, little one. Literally.” A ghostly hand reached across the table and grasped her chin, thumb rubbing over the welt her father’s strike had left. Hard. It burned, but it was a pain she could weather easily - a lot more easily than the initial strike, or the feeling of betrayal it brought with it. “Did you get him back?”

“No. But my mother did. She smashed a vase over his head - a very expensive one, too.” When she saw Salem’s teeth glinting in the dark from her smile, she couldn’t suppress one of her own.

“Satisfying?”

“Yes. I wish it wasn’t - I wanted him to… be…”

“A father.” When Weiss nodded, she leaned back and sighed. “You still expect too much from men. They’re beasts, incapable of controlling themselves, and should be regarded as such. No matter. What will become of his control of Schnee Communications?”

Though she couldn’t quite agree with the way Salem saw men - her father was simply a bad apple, not a representative of all of them - she knew pressing the point would be unwise. “Well… I’m not sure. There’s only been enough time for me to ask him to look into hiring Mr. Scarlatina; I didn’t think… well, he found me out way too soon, and he lost it. I couldn’t get him to believe I didn’t know what he was talking about, he just… needed me to be a bad child.”

“Your acting skills leave something to be desired, then.” She considered while Weiss tried to ignore the flicker of fear in her stomach. “Not your fault. You’re a babe in the woods, and you have done well so far; saving my warlord, restoring peace between us and the Huntsmen. And we can’t always predict how animals will behave.”

Something about that struck her. First, Velvet was saying Cinder treated her like an animal, and now, Salem was saying the same about the male gender as a whole. Perhaps the teenage Dragon was hanging around with her mentor a little too often.

“Cinder?” The girl approached and dipped her head slightly. “The phone.”

From a neighbouring booth, Cinder retrieved a black telephone with a longish cord, setting it in front of her boss. Salem picked up the receiver and began to spin the dial. “My Duchess seems to be the best one for this job; that business acumen of hers. Ah - Kali?” A brief pause. “I’ll need you to pick up the little Schnee and take her home. And once you get there…”

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

In very little time at all, Weiss and her surrogate mother were riding through Vale in her Ford, on their way to speak to her real mother. Though Weiss felt guilty about leaving Pyrrha to head home on her own, she privately thought it was smart they didn’t stay much longer; she looked a little green around the gills from having to rebuff so many of Cinder’s advances. The only one who looked greener was Emerald - with envy rather than nausea.

“Mother?” she called out as they entered. “Are you still here?” No response. The living room was empty, so she gestured for Kali to enter.

“It’s a lovely home,” she remarked easily. In preparation for this meeting, she had donned another lovely dress fit for any homemaker, quite modest with its high neck and capped sleeves but very becoming on her figure. The little peep-toe window at the tips of her black heels were the only flirty accent that reassured Weiss no one else had forced her into the outfit against her will.

“Thank you. Will you wait here for a moment, please?”

“Of course.” The tone was overly gentle, coddling. She had been using it ever since Salem explained why Weiss needed a ride, and the reality of her situation. It was maddening, but at the same time, she appreciated having friends who truly gave a damn about her safety and wellbeing.

To her surprise, her mother wasn’t in the drawing room or her bedroom. She was in her room, standing with a handkerchief pressed to her mouth and gazing around at the surroundings.

“Mother?”

“Oh,” she breathed in mild surprise, a watery smile springing up. “I’m sorry, Weiss. How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Fine.” After a moment, she shook her head, sinking down onto the corner of her bed. “And now… we’re lying to each other again. Old habits die hard.”

“I am fine, though. Not great! Not… thrilled that my father is such a… a-”

“Say it.”

“An un-nice person.” When her mother laughed, she smiled slightly. “You know what I mean. But I have a feeling you’re worse off than I am, and today, I got my mother back, and… and I still have my friends. Especially now that I don’t have to hide them.”

The smile on her mother’s face faded. For the first time, she realised how old she looked. Still beautiful for her age, but there were bags under her eyes, wrinkles at the corners and by her mouth. Being with Jacques had obviously aged her quite a bit.

“Your ‘friends’. I… might not have agreed with your father on how he handled the situation, but I agree that it should be handled. They aren’t the type of people I want you associating with.”

“Mother…”

“I won’t do what he did,” she told her firmly, holding up a hand to forestall her complaints. “That was… well, let’s not think about it. And I won’t forbid you to see them, but honey… can’t you enjoy your friendship with the Nikos girl more? It’s… safer. And I’m going to be a lot more worried now that I don’t have the wine to keep me from worrying anymore.”

Frowning, she sat down next to her mother, painfully aware that she was now wearing the jacket. Not hiding. “Sorry, Mommy. I really am sorry that… that the people I care about aren’t people you like. Or that I would have liked before I got to know them. But I can’t turn my back on them now.”

“Can’t you? It’s easy. Your father seemed to have no problem doing so to us.”

“They aren’t those kinds of villains, and neither am I,” she replied harshly, and Willow flinched. “Sorry.”

“No, no… it’s alright. We need to start being honest with ourselves about what kind of man he was, or we… or the lies will only get worse. The ones we tell others, the ones we tell ourselves.” Her voice broke. “I let him hurt you too many times. More than once was too many. And I let him hurt me so much more, but I could tolerate that as long as he- as l-long as he d-didn’t-”

Weiss wrapped her in a tight hug, squeezing as hard as her arms could handle. She wanted nothing more than to march into the jailhouse and stomp on his head with Yang’s boots - or maybe borrow one of the girls’ heavy chains to really give him what for. But that would make her no better than him. She wouldn’t rule it out, but she would try to be the better person.

“Don’t apologise anymore,” she whispered as softly as she could. “I love you, Mommy. Always have and always will. And… I don’t know what I would have done in your place, either. It’s hard; he’s your husband.”

“Not anymore.” The growl in her tone shocked Weiss a little, but it was also heartening.

“Good. I… I don’t know what we’re going to do now, but I agree with you.” Then she sat up straighter. “Oh!”

“What is it?” she asked, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks.

“There’s someone here to see you! And this is good because-” Pausing, she hopped up and began to pull at her mother’s hands to help her stand. “-because she’s one of the Dragons. But, well, she’s not really a Dragon; she’s one of their moms, and cooks for them sometimes.” That may have been a little white lie, but it was more or less true, functionally. Other than the rumble, typically Kali was content to cook food and stay in the background. She could clear up the rest of her roles herself.

“A gangster cook?” They both exchanged a bemused smile, even if Willow’s was a bit watery. “Well, where is she? Downstairs?”

Her mother insisted on nipping into the bathroom to fix her face and hair before entertaining guests. Appearances had always been of utmost importance to the Schnees, after all, and she couldn’t expect her mother to change her spots entirely - not on the same day as they ousted Jacques from their home, tentative as that was. Then they descended the stairs together.

Kali stood from the sofa where she had been waiting, and pressed a hand to her chest. “My goodness, look at these twin beauties gracing me with their presence! Such style, such grace!”

“Stop it,” Weiss laughed. But her mother seemed a little confused by the praise.

“I… I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” she confessed.

“Not at all,” she assured her as they arrived, reaching forward to take one of Willow’s hands and pressing it between her own. “Kali Belladonna. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Willow Schnee.” Then she shrugged, self-conscious. “I look like a wreck and I know it; crying for hours, and… can’t I get you something? Tea?”

Kali led her over to the sofa, pulling her down onto the middle cushion and taking one of the ends. Privately, Weiss noticed that she was sitting very close to her, but it could just as easily have been because she wanted to comfort her as any untoward reasons. “There, there. You’ve had a terrible day; it’s not your fault, please don’t feel like you have to go to any trouble on my account.”

“Thank you,” she sighed wearily. “Ordinarily, I might put up a fight, but… thank you.”

“I must say, if I knew Weiss had such an attractive twin sister, I would have stopped by much earlier than today.”

“What? Oh,” she tutted, rolling her eyes. “Don’t try that flattery on me.”

“You mean you aren’t sisters?” she said with a theatrical gasp. When her mother actually laughed quietly, she smiled. “But don’t worry, I’ll stop buttering you up if it actually does bother you.”

“It doesn’t. I just… I can’t feel very attractive right now. I can’t. Not after-”

“No, no, it’s fine. So! I’ll admit that my visit is not strictly an excuse to pay you compliments.” Barely glancing at Weiss as she seated herself on her mother’s opposite side, she went on, “This is a very tricky time. I’m going to have to ask you some difficult questions about your, erhm… financial situation, business. It’s not fun, but I’m hoping to help you and Weiss avoid having the rug pulled out from under you.”

The sudden topic change startled her. “What? I mean… I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I only take care of managing the bills in the house; my husband is in charge of the finances and our bank holdings.”

“Are they all in his name?” When she only blinked, Kali pressed, “Are any of his shares in your name? Do you have a joint bank account?”

“Sorry again, but I don’t see what business it is of yours.”

Kali didn't even flinch. “It’s not. But do you want me to paint you a picture of what may happen if we don’t try to work on this immediately?”

“No, I don’t. But… I’m curious now.”

Taking that as permission, she went on, “Your husband is a first-time offender. We both know the law, the courts, always favour men - it’s just the way the system works. He looks repentant for striking his wife and child, says he was overworked, under a lot of stress. The judge herds you into court to testify, asks you if he’s done this before. Then he starts bringing up your drinking problem, and well… you’re faced with two choices. Either you leave him, and leave all of his money, and wind up out in the street, or you go back to an abusive husband and suffer. Do those choices appeal to you?”

As horrified as Willow looked, so did Weiss on her other side. “Oh. I… no, be reasonable. He won’t get out - he struck me with a belt. He’s never gone that far before.”

“Exactly; he’s never gone that far before.” Weiss found herself dismayed at how much inflection could change a sentence. “That would make it quite easy for him to convince a judge he never will again, even though that’s exactly what he’s promised in the past about striking Weiss.”

“How much have you told this woman?” she demanded of her daughter, though she looked more stunned than upset.

“Enough, Mommy. I… I know it’s hard for you right now. It was hard for me, too! But I trust her. She helped protect me when Father made the Dragons think I ratted- I mean, sent the police after them. Which wasn’t a very nice thing to do when he knew I was friends with Yang.”

Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know. God, I don’t know what to do right now… I should be telling you never to see them again, but I know that wasn’t fair of him to ask. But I don’t want you getting hurt, either!”

“We won’t hurt Weiss,” Kali told her firmly - conveniently leaving out a certain initiation ceremony. “My Blake and her get along well, and that girl Yang is like a daughter to me, as well. We Dragons may not be ‘safe’, but we are loyal, and we protect our own - and that includes your Weiss now.”

“And me? You really would help me figure out how to… how to avoid living on the street simply because, what, Weiss is wearing your jacket?”

“I would for that alone. But I genuinely like her; she’s a sweet girl. Also…” Kali shrugged, wrapping an arm around the aggrieved woman’s back. “My Ghira was a good and decent man, and I miss him every day since he was K-I-A. I'd give anything to be reunited. For your husband to take advantage of you, to treat you like dirt when he’s lucky enough to still have a spouse as good and loving as you are… that’s simply disgraceful. I can’t let that go on, and if I can help you escape him, then I will. It’s my duty, woman to woman.”

The tears started fresh. Weiss expected them, and already had her handkerchief ready to offer. Kali simply held onto her as she cried, and Weiss took her hand up and patted it again, waiting for the emotional outpouring to pass.

“I’m n-not good,” she finally blubbered. “Or loving! I’m not!”

“You are,” Kali whispered softly, petting over her hair. “And it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. We just need to make a plan and make it work.”

A long sigh issued from her mother’s throat as he brought herself under control again. “Alright. I’m… I’ll try to help however I can. What must I do?”

“Nothing all at once. Find your husband’s business documents and we can get to work. And… you said your name was Willow?”

“Yes, Kali.”

Smiling at their shared memory skills, she kissed her cheek before standing up. “It’s going to be alright. One way or another, you have Dragons at your back now. We’ll get through this together.”

Vaguely flustered by the cheek-kiss, her mother stood to follow Kali upstairs to fetch important paperwork from her father’s den. Weiss remained downstairs, squinting suspiciously up the staircase at the two women. Maybe she shouldn’t be thinking it, especially after everything they had been through over the course of a single day. But she couldn’t help wondering…

‘Did that just go the way I think it did?’

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired]

alrighty! im gonna talk about my two new dr!ocs and some updates on sheon’s whole thing. remember they don’t have names yet adkaljasdkfa

SURVIVOR: the ultimate jazz singer. 

as mentioned, she’s the ultimate jazz singer. pretty subdued personality, but she’s the type of jazz singer who would just. scream into a microphone a la screamin jay hawkins. she is pretty neutral/friendly but disconnected in the prologue/first chapter/second chapter. she gets more jittery as the interactions go on. but once you get to the post-fte section of chapter two, that night she actually tries to kill the protag. at this point its revealed her big Angsty Backstory is she got involved with drugs through the music scene and is currently suffering withdrawal symptoms and is Super desperate (something ive seen a lot with my co-musicians and its not good) big breakdown, really delirious, will eventually be talked off the ledge and calmed down. kind of like if sayaka was actually calmed down in thh chap 1

just so happens that during the night whoopsy someone else was killed. so you two have an alibi but to reveal it means you tell everyone about her issues. either there might be a lying feature like in drv3 to cover, or you tell the truth and end up isolating her. for chapter three and most of four she will keep her distance from the protag bc she’s uncomfortable but will eventually reach out to be friends again after chap 4 execution. 

is generally pretty useful during trials, tends to be a person who tries to help calm down more emotional students and look at things logically. is good at trying to calm down the blackened once the protag catches their bluff bc she understands what its like to be desperate. she does, however, cry during/after every punishment. tells others not to speak poorly of their executed classmates. 

she compulsively chews gum, and one of her favorite gifts would be gum. jokes about having an oral fixation. during school mode she might joke about singing love songs but being so awkward about it in real life. really likes dogs, has a dog plushie in her room. 

a first two fte will focus on her health/wellbeing. the third she’ll ask to not talk about that anymore and the next three are just about general stuff. the final one she’ll basically go a little further into detail but the moral of her story is like, she’s not a bad person for doing what she did, no one is. she’s just a person. and it cn happen to anymore.

dresses in clothes more inspired by late mod/early 70s fashion. hoestly im seeing like a turtleneck/pantsuit combo. short curly hair. big heavy under eyelashes. 

MASTERMIND: the ultimate drag racer (ultimate cruiser)

ok but I LOVE him. personality wise he’s the story’s anxious character, think closer in personality to chap 1 shuichi. quiet, skittish, easily flustered, sometimes cracks jokes that fall flat. he’s framed for the chap 1 murder (someone died in a go kart accident, its assumed he sabotaged the other car, his argument is why would he kill someone in a race in front of all his classmates?) the protag obviously works hard to prove he’s innocent. after the execution he makes a promise to the protag that he owes him one big time, and while it seems innocent at the time, the wording should have like. a slight suspicious undertone. 

he’ll investigate weirder areas of the school instead of practical (sometimes he has clues sometimes not) and if there’s ever a mechanical question for a trial, you’ll generally ask him for clarification. he’s not very trusting of others and is often the one to accuse others/bring the information learned in trials back into the real world and make a big deal out of it. for example, he’ll make a big deal about the attempted murder in chap 2, and he’s the one who’s constantly accusing sheon of being a traitor

at first he seems like he’s just anxious, but obviously, he’s the mastermind, and he’s trying to tear the group apart. 

his fte he’s awkward the first few times but he opens up slowly, showing actual comfort/joy around the protag. wants to be close friends. offers to take protag go karting. while their personality is pretty awkward most of the time, there are flashes of an adrenaline junky every now and then especially when talking about cars, where he seems so full of life and drive it’s almost scary. very competitive during these times, his determination almost taking a sadistic glee when talking about beating others. of course he explains it as his cutthroat sport, but ya know...mastermind. instead of saying we’re going to survive he says we’re going to win. friendly towards the others but doesn’t really care about them focused on protag. is consciously trying to seperate protag from sheon.

for a mastermind he’s actually quite the empath and grows attached to his classmates, which he actually takes pleasure in the amount of despair he feels after each of their executions. reason behind the game is the adrenaline rush he feels, never has felt more alive than on despair. he discovered the rush the first time he got in a car accident, and the moments before his crash where like pure bliss. he wanted to let everyone else feel his feverish joy, and talks about how everyone has enjoyed this, deep down. they’re all getting their sick kicks. breaks the fourth wall and alludes to the fact that the protag (through the player) is having the most fun of all. 

final trial where it’s revealed, he’s still v attached to the protag in like an almost yandere way and wants to follow up on the favor he owes from chap 1. he offers a deal to the protag where if they’re welcome to be their accomplice in all this and get out of the game. protag should push to bargain that everyone can give up their morals, sacrifice themselves to despair, and live as the mastermind’s accomplice in exchange for ending the killing game. 

eventually, he’ll agree, but only if the group decides one life among them to sacrifice for no other reason than to kill an innocent friend. the way to get to the correct ending is to choose yourself which will like invalidate the deal. protag ends up dying and everyone else lives. leaves the mastermind in a despair, but for the first time, he does not derive any pleasure. 

takes a LOT OF GLEE in admitting he convinced everyone else sheon was the traitor when she was not, everyone else is horrified.

anyways. his school mode/love mode events show his more likeable side, he can actually be a really cute partner if it weren’t for the part he’s evil but uh. soft sometimes. 

really likes energy drinks. talks about sponsorships. color scheme is like. a black racing suit but his jacket is tied around his waist and he’s wearing a wife beater. tons of accents of neon all over his outfit from like patches and brand deals. backwards hat. blushes easily. has a mullet. i love him. 

“TRAITOR” : SHEON FUKUDA (the ultimate film maker) 

ok so. still antagonistic. but more in the way of pushing your buttons and pointing out your flaws in a trial. like somewhere between antagonist and kirigiri. super chill personality, cracks a lot of jokes, is hardcore struggling with the games and will be open about her mental illness. her fatal flaw is still her martyr complex

is first framed after chap 2 bc of accused of having the ability to direct and oversee a production like this, and from that moment forward no one can trust her and she’s SUPER alienated. she’s still awkwardly trying to be friends/friendly but people act like she’s going to betray them all. tries to prove innocence multiple times going as far as to beginning of chap 3 announce to the group if they need to kill anyone, let it be her so no one else gets hurt and is super transparent about who she is. but this transparency makes people more suspicious. as she goes on she gets more desperate/gallows humor. last convo bfore chap 5 begins she has a vague conversation about with protag about if they fear death. chap 5 would end up being either a suicide or double murder (they killed each other one in attack the other while being defended against) so there’s no execution but monokuma still wants something. its also in this trial that the ultimate drag racer plants evidence taht makes it look like she’s the traitor and is addressed head on. 

a common motif for her is ‘playing the role assigned’ and knowing who she is and who she isn’t. she’s pretty comfortable knowing who she is but expresses unhappiness about being painted a villain. maybe like, three times through the story to this point it’s established as a motif/quirk of fitting a role she’s assigned bc if the protag asks her a question about herself/past/the overall story, she asks the protag a question like well, what do you want 1) 2) and you choose and she’s like. ok. then its _______. same thing here. as she’s finally excused she stares at the protag and is like do you really believe im the traitor? (yes) stares long and hard, somethng sad and defeated in her eyes. ok then. i am.

the trial doesn’t have a punishment originally planned bc the blackened are not alive. but she chooses not to vote and willingly chooses to be punished because everyone else has decided she’s the traitor and she chooses to play along so they can get closure. her last conversation should be about choosing the act of resistance, no matter how convoluted it can be. she doesn’t fear death. the pain sure, but not death. this was her choice to be punished, not the masterminds, and she hopes they lose any glee they take in her suffering because its a sacrifice for hope instead of a death in despair. last request is that she asks for the protag to make sure the manuscripts she wrote during her time are published, the last great work of sheon fukuda.

EXECUTION: CULTURE SHOCK so she wakes up on a soundstage to blinding light. she’s attached with electrodes. monokuma is sitting on a director’s chair with a director’s hat. basically the premise is as the ultimate film maker, she has to recreate different iconic movie scenes and every time she makes a mistake she gets shocked. she keeps on getting thrown into new scenes into the middle of old ones, throwing her off. after a sequence of costume changes/farces she finally collapses in the soundstage. 

beat. she looks up. above the soundstage is a sign that says “congratulations” or something. everyone gasps. she believes she beat it. a single light comes on in center stage prompting her to take a bow. she stumbles over, stands up, and looks into the shadows in the general direction of her classmates. a teleprompter prompts her classmates to clap. she takes glee, soaking in her win, and bows. as she comes up she smiles for a second before a short rings out. she’s shot through the heart. culture shock!

fte are mostly talking about directors/film references and what its like to be a film maker. real dry humor, sometimes talks about deeper stuff. her backstory is that her dad was working for an american embassy so she grew up in america going to art shool, and she feels out of place, despite being a japanese student with the same basic culture as everyone else. sometimes talks about slimeball directors, sometimes talks about missing certain food, loves takling about movies. as a filmmaker she specializes in dark comedy/farce which makes her suspicious of how someone can enjoy writing somethng so twisted

views are very intersectional, a little new agey, but still well put together. clearly a free spirit, very quirky from working in cinema, super dry sense of humor. likes philosophy

really likes blueberry jam. favorite item is somthing blueberry.

after chap 1 trial she expresses to the protag how she can never be the blackened, not just because of murdering one student, but to get away with it, everyone else would be punished instead, and she can’t deal with the blood on her hands. 

is open about her struggles with mental illness and how she was getting help and showing improvement bfore coming here but now she feels herself spiraling and hates it.

values everyone here as good friends, and while she tries to play it off she hates how they’re painting her as a villain. takes every death very personally. 

color scheme is very pastel, and she wears sweat pants and a collared shirt with a light blue robe. you can’t tell if those are pajamas or an outfit. wears rose-colored glasses. all about the aesthetic, just lean so far into film culture with her. personality/feelings towards style are very influenced by the fact she went to an american arts school instead of a japanese school like her peers so every part of her is slightly off/quirky/out-of-touch

she’ll mostly wear the glasses over her eyes, sometimes pushing them down on her nose for emphasis to make eye contact. only her anger sprite (point) shows her taking them off. 

during her execution she pushes them onto her forehead before taking her bow, almost to meet eye to eye. after she’s shot the last frame is them landing on the ground, cracking. 

i love sheon so much

[mainmuses]

F2F Para Interaction: Discord Upload

Who: Rose McCoy & Dani Harper ( @daniharperdominant ) Where: Dani’s suite When: 13/10/20 Why: Rose escaped an uncomfortable interaction by climbing in Dani’s bathroom window, friendship ensues.  What: Natural ending to the thread

Rose 13/10/2020

Rose & Dani: F2F @Rei || Dani & Marley 

 Rose walked with her book bag slung over one shoulder and absently sucking on a lollipop. It was a ball-gag cherry pop but she was enjoying it all the same, she hadn't been allowed one in so long. Rose caught a flash of red hair out the corner of her eye and tossed herself quickly and smoothly through the closest open window. It was a bathroom and she shoved the blind down after her, crouched and peeking through the crack to check if the coast is clear. Rose tensed all over when the door opened behind her and she didn't turn around, hoping maybe they would just go away?

dani harper

There were a lot of things that Dani expected at Devereux.  Accidentally walking into a room where people were having sex, the occasional public scene, all of that.  One thing she'd never experienced, in her entire first year and the few weeks of her second, was someone in her bathroom.  In fact it took her a moment to be sure of what she was actually seeing.  "Uh...are you lost, or do you just get off on sneaking into people's rooms?"

dani harper

That at least made some kind of sense, and Dani relaxed a little.  "Oh - yeah, sure, but if you're going to hang out why don't you come into my room?  Be a little more comfortable."  She chuckled a little at the compliment, extending her hand as well.  "Dani Harper, Dominant.  It's a pleasure to meet you, Rose.  Can I get you a drink or anything?"

rose mccoy-schuester

She turned slowly, grimacing. "I'm avoiding someone." Rose explained, figuring this person deserved some clue as to why she'd suddenly entered a poorly executed action movie. "Can I hang out for a sec?" She asked then paused "... Nice bathroom... very clean" Rose sat down out of her crouch and offered her hand "Rose McCoy, Switch."

rose mccoy-schuesterBOT13/10/2020

Rose smiled at the friendly interaction and shook hands enthusiastically. Ross's jaw twitched when she realised she was speaking to a Dominant and took her hand back, lowering her eyes in submission. "Sorry Miss, do you have a title you like used?" This was her first interaction outside the control of her ex with a Dominant peer. She wasn't fully sure how to act. "Do you have orange juice", she asked hopefully peaking up at Dani .

dani harper

"Miss is fine," Dani promised.  "And please take a breath - I can just about see the tension vibrating off of you.  This isn't a scene, you used a title, everything's okay.  You can look at me, I won't turn you to stone or anything," she chuckled.  "And yes, I've got some orange juice.  Just grab a seat on the couch, and I'll be right there with it."

rose mccoy-schuester

Rose attempted to do as instructed and artificially lowered her shoulders in a show of attempting to relax. She glanced up at Dani a couple of times as if getting used to staring into the sun. "Thanks" she said and unfolded herself from the floor, instead taking up space on the couch. She was glad about the orange juice. " Are we pulp or no pulp people? It's an important personality test." Rose quickly got comfortable and took a decorative pillow to hug to her abdomen.

dani harper

"You're welcome," Dani smiled.  As she headed for the fridge she looked back over her shoulder at her mysterious intruder.  "We are definitely pulp people, so hopefully that passes the test."  She'd never really cared much one way or the other, truthfully, but it was what she had in the fridge and so that's what they'd drink.  Pouring each of them a small glass, she headed back to the couch to deliver one to Rose.  Taking a seat at the other end of the couch, she raised her glass.  "To new friends who sneak in through windows."14 October 2020

Amlee ~ Rose

Rose bobbed her head "Pulp is superior" she agreed "Thanks" she took the juice and raised it to the cheers "You say that as if you're supposed to make friends any other way" she smiled into her glass. "You are very chill about this which makes me wonder if this is a common occurance either for this college or for you personally". Rose took great care with the tassels on the decorative pillow "Where's this pillow from?"

dani harper

"Oh good.  I'd have hated to fail my very first test," she laughed.  "I mean usually I meet them when they haven't snuck into my room, but this works just as well."  Dani shrugged.  "I'm just fairly chill in general - this isn't the first time I've had strangers wander into wherever I lived.  And that pillow...I think was a gift from someone whose couch I lived on for a while."

rose mccoy-schuester

"I would have forgiven you angway" she assured her brand new friend. "I actually think this is the superior way, it cuts down on the awkward small talk portion where you don't know if you should hang out. If someone is chill with surprise window guests then you know." She deduced. "I like it, it doesn't look like it's mass manufactured, someone made it. And that's pretty cool."15 October 2020

dani harper

"Well, I appreciate that," Dani chuckled.  "It's  nice to meet someone so forgiving of my stance on pulp."  She had to admit that Rose did have a point, it was easier to get to know someone when you knew if you were comfortable with them sneaking in your window.  "I suppose that's true, although in the future if you wanted you could just knock on my door."  A smile tugged at her lips.  "Yeah, she was super crafty.  Did all kinds of things with her hands."  Dani hesitated for a moment.  "Want to talk about why you're hiding in my room?"16 October 2020

rose mccoy-schuester

Rose nodded her head and grinned "Noted, I suppose I can knock on a door" Rose looked down at the pillow and fiddled with it. "Is it... important?" She asked cautiously. Dani had asked, not demanded the truth from her.... yet. "What were you getting up to today? Am I getting in the way of plans?" She fretted. "Please go about your usual day, I'll climb back out the way I came in a minute." She assured the resident of the room.

dani harper

"It's worth a try, anyway.  If I'm in I'll usually answer and let you in, and if not then my roomie can always let you into my room."  There was nothing in it worth stealing except her guitar, so she didn't much care if Rose was in by herself.  "It's not, no.  I just thought I'd offer if you wanted to talk about it, but if not that's fine too."  Dani smiled.  "No plans.  I was just going to sit and play a few songs while I gathered my thoughts."17 October 2020

rose mccoy-schuester

"Who is it you share with?" Rose asked, she knew very few people in this place so it wasn't likely that she knew them. "I promise to try the door next time but I make no promises that the door will be a habit, I'm quite fond of the window" She teased. Rose breezed straight through acknowledging what brought her through the window in the first place, and ignored the topic completely. It had been working for her so far. "Play songs? Do you play an instrument? What music do you like?"

dani harper

"Zoe Rose.  She's gorgeous, so I'm sure you're going to notice if you see her."  Dani wasn't being falsely modest comparing herself to the other Domme, because she really was beautiful.  "Fair enough, just try not to use it when I'm...you know, actually in the bathroom."  When Rose didn't stop to explain what had brought her there, Dani stopped pushing - she didn't need to know.  "I do indeed - my guitar is in the bedroom.  Indigo Girls, Imogen Heap, Sarah Mclachlan, things like that."

rose mccoy-schuester

"I'll look out for her." Rose agreed. "Yeah, that would be a bit awkward. We could install a doorbell? Or a smoke signal system? Do you know morse code?" Rose thought outloud, with no real intention on busting in on Dani in the bathroom but it was fun to imagine scenarios like she was a little girl and they were going to build a tin can telephone to communicate. "Amazing, I played the flute for a minute when I was 12 but then everyone realised that it was either I gave it up or everyone go deaf. It was an obvious choice." She laughed. "Can I hear you play?"

dani harper

Dani snorted.  "Doorbell, maybe.  Smoke in the bathroom's just set off my smoke detector.  And I definitely don't know morse code."  That wasn't completely true, she thought she remembered how to do SOS, but that wasn't really helpful and didn't even really count.  "Ooh, nice - I love the flute but I never had any talent for it.  It would have been kind of impressive if you deafened a whole town though," she laughed.  "Yeah, of course - hang out, I'm just going to get my guitar from the bedroom."18 October 2020

rose mccoy-schuester

"I'll look into the doorbell idea." Rose promised "The flute is very hard." She agreed and watched Demi leave to grab the guitar. As a creative, Rose had always wanted to find an instrument that she could play and become good at. However, despite the lengthy practice she hadn't found herself improving enough to justify the effort.

dani harper

"I appreciate that.  And it's much tougher than people give it credit for, that's for damn sure."  She grabbed her guitar from where it was sitting in its case and brought it back out to the couch to sit on the arm.  It was tuned, so she launched into something old but recognizable.  "...but there ain't no way I'm ever going to love you, now don't be sad.  Baby, don't be sad, 'cause two out of three ain't bad..."

[planetsam]

can you write a story where jesse manes goes after alex first in the final? always thought it was strange that he considered kyle the bigger threat in the end

Michael is planning to play guitar.

He’s planning to learn to write with his other hand and remember what it’s like to be able to grip things without mind numbing pain. He’s planning on enjoying being able to meet new people and ignore their looks when they see his hand or pass it off on jokes. Maybe he will finally put the past behind him or maybe he will try that rockstar thing he passes off as a joke. He’s got plans. So it’s rotten luck that the first thing he does with his shiny new hand details all of them.

To be fair, Jesse Manes deserves a lot worse than being punched.

But Michael’ll take it.

He lifts the man up by his collar and decks him again. It’s been years since he’s been able to make a fist and it’s not nearly as tight as it should be. He feels ever punch he lands on the man. But he at least remembers enough from his other hand that he keeps his thumb outside and doesn’t break anything as he does it. His hand hurts like a bitch though and the soft, smooth skin tears like it’s his first punch. No more thick scar tissue to protect it. Well it’s worth it as he drops Jesse to the ground. His heart is pounding in his ears. Violence isn’t the answer but damn if that doesn’t feel better than being healed.

It takes him a moment to realize it’s not just pounding in his ears.

He grabs the keys and runs over to the trunk of the car, yanking it open. It’s only adrenaline that lets him leap out of the way as a crowbar jabs up where is chin was a moment before.

“It’s me! Stop—damn it Alex stop!”

The crowbar retreats and Michael comes back over to see Alex laying there with his wrists and mouth bound by duct tape and zip ties. Michael suddenly wants to go back over to Jesse and straight up murder him. Instead he helps Alex out of the trunk and sets the crowbar to the side. Fishing out his pocketknife he cuts through the duct tape on his wrists and the zip ties.

“Sorry, hang on,” he says and picks a corner of the duct tape. He steadies Alex and rips it off, taking any facial hair Alex has with it.

���Where is he?” Alex demands.

“I beat him unconscious,” Michael says.

“Good,” Alex spits.

He looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin but can’t and Michael realizes that when he sits on the lip of the truck, only one foot touches the ground. Alex has gotten so good with the prosthetic, if it’s not a bad day it’s hard to tell he has one at all. Michael’s realized that he’s one of the few people to see Alex without it. But when he glances in the trunk, he doesn’t see the metal that’s almost a part of Alex at this point.

“Where’s your leg?”

“Gone! He had a tracker in it,” he makes a noise of complete disgust, “he was tracking me the whole time.”

Michael looks over his shoulder at the limp form of Jesse Manes and hovers between his overwhelming desire to stay with Alex and the renewed one to lunge at Jesse. It’s Alex who decides, clasping a hand on his shoulder which makes him jump. Alex snatches his hand back with a quick apology but Michael shakes his head, trying to refocus on Alex.

“Just stay with me, okay? I’m—“ He flounders for a moment before cringing, “I can go anywhere.”

It feels like being doused in cold water.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Michael says, “how do I—“

He doesn’t know how to help him. That’s not new in their relationship, they never seem to choose the right thing in moments like this. Maybe because they’re both painfully stubborn. But they need to try something new. Michael is painfully aware of the fact. So he does the thing he truly hates and asks for help.

“How do I help?”

“Shoulder,” Alex says.

Michael guides Alex’s arm over his shoulder and helps support his weight. It’s the world’s most awkward three legged race. Despite everything he almost smiles at the memory that wells up.

“You remember field day?”

“Oh god,” Alex closes his eyes, “don’t.”

Michael lets himself smile, hearing only embarrassment in Alex’s tone. They had been awkward preteens and paired up for a variety of games like wheelbarrows and relay races and the three legged race where two of their legs were tied together. It was complete hell. Michael still had the brand on his forearm from the exorcism and being paired with the cutest person in school who happened to be a boy was not helpful. Alex had mumbled and looked upset the whole time, which Michael had thought was because he didn’t want to be paired with a poor new kid.

“I thought you hated me,” he says, “I didn’t realize—“

“I hated myself,” Alex says as Michael fights the urge to grip him tighter. Alex frowns at the blood on Michael’s knuckles, “did you punch him?”

“Yeah,” Michael says.

“Why?” Alex asks, looking genuinely confused, “you could put this car on top of him with your mind, why did you hit him?” He stares at him, “have you ever used your powers to hurt someone?”

Alex is smart. Too smart sometimes. Before it was that Michael didn’t want to show his powers for secrecy reasons. But the truth is that when things happen, like monsters slamming your hand with a hammer, it’s hard to remember to keep a secret. Actually the only instinct that seems to override his admittedly flawed sense of self preservation is that he doesn’t want Alex to look at him and see a monster. Even now. Even after everything. Maybe especially after everything. He doesn’t know what Alex’s limits are when it comes to what he can do, and limits change. Michael never wants Alex to look at him and see someone to be afraid of.

“I broke someone’s toe once when I moved a desk,” he says.

“Which was an accident, I’m sure,” Alex says. Michael feels himself blush.

“Speaking of cars—“

“He’s not worth it,” Alex says.

“I don’t know about that,” Michael replies.

“I do,” Alex says firmly before softening, just a little, “just stay with me,” he says.

Michael tightens his grip on Alex and though it costs him to turn away, it’s not as high a cost as it would be to go after him. It’s clear Alex would rather be as far away from the man as possible and after what he said last night, Michael can see why. So he makes the choice to put Alex over revenge. As he looks at Alex he seems to be deflating with every step. Alex hates losing and the losses just seem to keep piling up.

“I guess I gotta make you a leg,” Michael says.

Alex’s head snaps towards him, surprise taking over his features.

“I mean if your dad stuck something in the last one, we gotta be sure right?” Michael wets his lips, “so I guess I gotta make you a leg. I’m gonna need your help though, I never made one before.”

“Any chance you can do it quickly?” Alex says finally. Michael nods and Alex looks relieved, “I might have a few broken ribs,” he admits.

“Jesus, Alex. Your dad’s a nightmare,” Michael says, shifting his grip in case he’s irritating anything.

Alex gives him an almost relieved smile as they keep walking and Michael makes it clear he’s sticking with him.

“Believe me, I know.”

[thenightling]

The Dodged Bullet

Warning: This is deliberately bad!

The dodged bullet:  

The following is the horrific notion of what would have happened if The CW, Fox, or Syfy adapted Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman instead of Netflix.   This is going to poke fun of common tropes of Fox and CW shows.  See if you can spot them all.

I am going to deliberately write this very, very badly.

             The generically attractive young man in his early-twenties walked toward the crime scene.  He wore a long leather jacket, designer sneakers, expensive brand-name jeans, and a stylish and perfectly fitted black polo style shirt under the jacket. It was rumpled but just so as to hint at what a great body he had under it.  He had thick, dark brown hair.  Brown eyes, a smoldering gaze and a dazzling smile.  He’s Caucasian and generically attractive.  He’s thin but not rake thin, more like sexy male model thin.   He’s got muscle tone.  

           At the moment he looked stoic, hands resting in his pockets.  He crosses the yellow crime scene tape without anyone stopping him.  No one questions his presence but he is not invisible. This is “grounded” in reality, folks.  

           The Sandman solves crimes!  The Sandman is a private investigator with a secret. He is a real Sandman!  Hidden in his jacket is a leather pouch which will probably get used maybe once or twice an episode (budgetary reasons).   And he gets confused by certain social cues and pop culture references but otherwise he’s just a generic hot guy.

           He’s probably portrayed by a Tom Mison type. He might be American. There’s an English accent but it’s so slight (so hidden by Americanisms) that it’s almost undetectable.   He approaches the pretty, ninety-pound, college age female detective with perfect, blond hair.   She looks up at him.  

           “Hey, Murphy.” She says in a friendly tone.  Yes, Murphy is his alias. She thinks he’s just eccentric and thinks he’s The Sandman but he gets results!  

           “Detective Walker.” He smiled with obvious affection. He crushes on her, pines for her. But she mustn’t ever know the truth. It is forbidden for one of his kind to be with a mortal.  Even if she is a Vortex.  And her great power may one day destroy the world…  or save it!  That’s the real reason he was here, to watch her. He had never expected to fall in love with her…

The show has almost no scenes in The Dreaming and when there are it’s about 90% CG over green screen, like the Enchanted Forest sets of Once Upon a Time, or the under-whelming Hell of Lucifer.  There’s probably a throne room with a starry night sky behind it, and an under-whelming “vast” library on par with Belle’s library in Once Upon a Time that will be shown very rarely.

           “We’ve got another one.”  She said gravely.  “Eyes torn out.  Pretty girl. Whoever this creep is- this predator must be stopped!”   The implication here is the victims are all damsels who have been targeted by an evil man targeting them for misogynistic reasons.  But don’t worry!  The show is totally not sexist!   Detective Rose Walker kicks ass!   And in season four she’ll be raising her own long-lost little brother!  Even though it’ll take her at least five seasons to learn Murphy’s secret (if she ever does).  

           “I thought the ‘me too’ movement would have at least reduced some of this.” She said with a shake of her head in disappointment at the world.

           The line of dialogue doesn’t actually really make sense under easy scrutiny.  Why would “Me too” actually make a serial killer reconsider his life choices?  Oh, well, the audience doesn’t have enough time to question it.

           “Me too?”  The adorable, awkward, pretty “Murphy” questions.

           “Boy!  Where have you been?  In a cave?”            “Actually I was trapped inside a prison cell for a hundred and five years and before that I resided in another dimension.”

           She rolls her eyes.  “Not this again.   Tell me you can at least figure something out with your ‘Dream powers’” she said cynically.   He might have been insane and socially inept but he got results!

           Morpheus knelt down next to the body and placed his hands on the corpse. There isn’t even any SFX for this. He’s just sensing something.  He grunts in a sexy portrayal of sexy CW level pain.  

           “What? What is it?”

           “I think I know who did this…”

           “Who?”

           “Corinthian…”

             (Opening credits here.  Maybe the opening riff of Enter Sandman by Metallica.  No, wait, Fox and CW can’t afford that.   It’s Mr. Sandman by the Charlottes!  It kills the mood but everyone knows the song.  You’ll be sick of it by episode five if you weren’t already.  And it will get a LOT of use since the song is cheap / practically public domain.)

           The next scene is not present day.  It’s a flashback.  And by flashback I mean a hastily put together set in Vancouver Canada.  It’s probably someone’s private stables being passed off as a medieval village.  No, wait. Its eighteenth century.  There’s a sexy other character wearing slightly anachronistic style sunglasses hiding his eyes (No CG here, the production team figures the glasses are enough).  In fact his eyes might not even be weird at all. He just likes sunglasses!  There, that’s better, no wasted money here.   He’s wearing a badly fitted white wig over white hair.  

           “My king,” the sunglassed man says with a bow. We have to be blunt for our easily distracted audience, so there’s the reminder that this is the dream king. “Thank you for letting me accompany you to the waking world.  There are such delicious things here.”

           “Yes, the food is rather pleasant.” Morpheus replies. His costume is decently fitted but obviously borrowed from another show, possibly a left over from Buffy The Vampire Slayer.  Those props and some period costumes still get use.  Isn’t Morpheus adorably oblivious, though?

           Morpheus is wearing a dark blue frock coat and lace. His trousers are exceptionally tight to show off the actor’s perfect ass.

           The Corinthian’s costume is cream colored. There was a behind the scenes fight and as small victory for the one crew member who actually read Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman in getting the cream outfit.  Others working on the show wanted the costume to be black to make it more obvious he was the bad guy.        

           An attractive, tall, black man (probably American), under the age of thirty, is behind Morpheus.   This is his loyal manservant, Lucien.  But it’s totally not racist making the dreaming librarian / butler black when the show hasn’t had any black characters yet.  No, it’s inclusive!  

           The attractive black man speaks.  “My Lord, I think he intends to do harm to the mortals here.”

           “Nonsense, Lucien. I’m certain it’s fine.”

           The Corinthian wandered away from his master and he soon drags off attractive young female into an alley, hand over her mouth.   No, The Corinthian isn’t gay anymore in this version.   But it’s okay.  Hob Gadling, Morpheus’ immortal friend (who now runs a bar for some reason) is gay!  He’s very gay.  In fact that’s the extent of his entire personality.  But isn’t this diverse and inclusive?!   And there’s no more problematic gay nightmare, even though in the original comics The Corinthian gets uncreated and the second Corinthian is a relatively decent guy for a nightmare.  

           After some persuasion Morpheus finally listens to Lucien and walks down into the alley.   He stops in his tracks when he sees The Corinthian has killed the girl and his licking his fingers, having obviously already eaten her eyeballs (gotta keep that TV-14 rating!)   He lets out a gasp.  “Corinthian, what have you done?”

           We cut back to present day and “Murphy” is walking into the bar owned by his friend, Hob Gadling . Hob sees him and smiles. “Murph, oh, honey, you look like Hell! Come sit down and tell me all about it.   You know I love juicy gossip.” He says in a naisly, lisping voice.

Imagine this scene was written by some very straight guy whose only exposure to gay people were 1990s Will and Grace reruns.  

           Hob places a shot glass in front of Morpheus and Morpheus downs it quickly. “Have you seen Matthew?”

           Matthew was Morpheus’ straight human friend and roommate.  He had learned Morpheus’ secret in the pilot episode when Morpheus rescued him from a car accident using his dream magick.   Ha!  And you thought we’d have talking birds in this thing. Lol!  No!  Grounded, remember?

           “Matt?  Oh, sweetie, you can do better than him.  I keep telling you, he’s just not your type.”

           Morpheus raises an eyebrow but says nothing about the implication about his sexual identity.  There will be a LOT of queer baiting on this show without confirmation in regard to his sexuality.  

             “I need to talk to him.   One of my nightmares is loose in the city.”  You can tell this was written by a New Yorker because they take for granted “The City” to mean New York.  

           “One of your Nightmares?   Why couldn’t it be one of those sexy wet dreams?”  Get it?  Because if the character’s gay he has to always be horny!!!  Ha-freakin’ –ha.  

(Please know I don’t actually feel this way. I’m mocking bad TV writing.  This whole thing is a spoof.)    

           There’s an awkward pause intended for the viewers to laugh.

           “I don’t believe any water nymphs have escaped The Dream dimension.” Morpheus replied in confusion.

He calls it The Dream Dimension in the show because “The Dreaming” didn’t sound hip enough according to some executive.

“I’m afraid it’s The Corinthian.  So now I have two problems.”

Hob nodded sympathetically.  “The detective you might have to kill…”

“And now this.”   This is an idiot proofed recap for people turning on the show late or just watching it in passing while doing other things or playing on their phone.  CW does this sort of in-story forced, shoe-horned exposition all the time.

The episode plays out a little bit like an episode of Lucifer mashed into an episode of True Blood.

While they’re trying to find the killer, Detective Rose Walker meets Murphy’s roommate, Matthew, and the two hit it off while chatting about Murphy’s weirdness.  They decide to start to date.   As Morpheus has feelings for Rose that he won’t admit to this causes a strain between him and Matthew Raven (There’s that bird reference!  What?  That should be Lucien’s last name?  Naw!)  And between him and Rose Walker.  

Morpheus lashes out rather than admit to what he is truly angry at and he and Matthew argue over something petty and this leads to recovering alcoholic Matthew to start drinking again as sad music begins to play.  

Morpheus eventually finds The Corinthian and is forced to destroy him.  He had to kill his own creation so he is kneeling in angst crying prettily while the sand left over from the uncreation slides through his fingers.  Some new female cover of Queen’s Who Wants to live Forever? Is playing in the background.  The original version is “too old” and too expensive for use. So here’s a very generic sounding cover done in a style that makes it blend in with every other pop song played during the forty five minute mark of a CW show’s run time (including commercial breaks).  

           The song plays as we cut to Matthew drinking alone sexily in an alley.  He’s sweaty and wet, but he just looks like a wet fashion model.   Morpheus is sexy crying over the sand that was the Corinthian, and Rose going to sleep prettily in her bed, no bed head here.  Oh, and she sleeps in perfect makeup!  There’s no scene where she even remotely looks like she’s out of makeup.

 She’s having strange dreams but they look pretty mundane.  Like real-world mundane.  It’s her living room set that we probably saw a few minutes ago, just dimmer lighting and some haze to make it clear this is a dream.  Because even with a show about The Dream Lord, dreams have to have an old fashioned camera fringe haze.  Murphy is there with his back to her.  He looks sad.  He turns to look at her and she gasps.   She sees a star (lense flare) from Murphy’s eyes in the dream as he looks at her in surprise like he wasn’t expecting her to see him.  She wakes up with a gasp, and everyone in her apartment building also wakes up at the same time, signifying that their dreams were connected.

And so ends what was probably the third episode of CW (or Fox’s) The Sandman.  

And that is pretty much how CW or Fox would have done The Sandman.

[flamegodess]

Let The Darkness Fall

Chapter 12

Rate: T+

Genre: Angst, fluff, Romance, young royai vampire AU

Warning: some description of torture... And after that something that I don't know how you'll deal with. Whatever it's a vampire au, if you came for cupcakes then sorry:)

-

“They know? Already?” Riza asked and bit her lower lip anxiously. If they really knew then it was the end of them.

“Maes says they didn’t mention the reason. But they said that only the two of us should go.” He explained wondering why they didn’t want to see Rebecca either.

“Y-you can’t go there... ” Rebecca murmured. She was new to all of this but she understood how strict and sever the council was.

“We have to.” Riza answered knowing that they had no choice.

“What if... If you don’t make it back?” she asked as her usually glowing eyes lost all their excitement.

“Then at least someone can explain to my father what happened.” Riza added trying to cheer her friend up. The truth was that she wasn’t so scared about the meeting. She had been through a lot during the last weeks so she knew she could take more and still survive. And there was Roy too. She felt that when having him by her side, nothing looked so complicated.

“You have no reason to worry. No one will touch her.” Roy said shortly. That was something that made Rebecca relax a bit. Riza turned her head to him. Yes, but who will protect you? Even though she was a puny human she promised herself to do everything in her power to keep him safe.

His bleeding body flashed again before her eyes and she clenched her fists until her knuckles turned withe. The brand on her shoulder didn’t only connect him to her. It connected her to him as well.

888

They stepped into the large hall and walked silently towards the three big chairs of the three leading vampires. Instead that there were only two. Kimblee’s place was empty, thing that made them both relax. However the concerned face of Hohenheim and the smirk on Lust’s lips couldn’t bring good news either.

Roy nodded respectfully and this time, Riza followed his example. That brand was somehow bounding her to the vampires' world as well after all.

“Now, you probably know the reason we summoned you today.” Hohenheim spoke and sighed. They nodded in response. “The situation is very complicated, kids. In fact, more for you, Miss Hawkeye.”

Riza bit her lips. Of course, Rebecca was her friend. It was her fault that she knew about everything.

“It was an accident. And it was my fault as well.” Roy tried to defend her.

Lust laughed and Hohenheim pressed a palm against his forehead. “We wouldn’t call stabbing a vampire with a silver dagger an accident.”

“Especially when it comes from a human whose father happens to be a hunter.” Lust continued.

“What?”Roy and Riza asked at the same time both frozen and relieved. OK, so they didn’t know yet about Rebecca, that was good. Riza wanted to speak but before she could open her mouth, Kimblee walked in and sat on his chair, looking angrier than ever. His eyes were bright red and he was staring fiercely at them. Roy took a step in front of her.

“Why are you still discussing?! Let’s kill her already.” He hissed and Roy growled silently feeling attacked. His eyes turned a dark shade of red.

“We discussed this before, Solf, we are not killing her. Let her speak before we can decide anything.”

“Or we can skip that part and take a look through her memories.” Lust suggested with her calm and silky voice.

“Again, no. We can’t be so rude towards the humans. They are very important for us. Please, show some respect.”

“But she fucking killed Bridgette, Hohenheim! First, you decide to allow this scum to live and then decide that we should forgive his pet as well!” Kimblee barked angrily and Riza prayed Roy would hold back. He was looking fiercely at Kimblee ready to fight him if needed.

“Enough, Solf.” Hohenheim replied unimpressed and rised a hand to silent him then went on. “Miss Hawkeye, please tell us exactly what happened last night.”

Riza told them everything, from the moment Roy and Maes visited Bridgette, how then she came to her bedroom and barely killed her and how she had to go to her manor to save Roy’s life. She explained them that the only reason she killed the vampire was to defend herself.

“So everything happened because Bridgette was... Jealous?” Hohenheim asked trying his hardest not to laugh. Thing that Lust didn’t try to hide. Only Kimblee had his fists clenched.

“This is a lie! A mighty vampire as Bridgette couldn’t have possibly been jealous of a human! Does this sound right to you?”

“Well, Solf, you know that things like this happened before. Vampires who killed other feeders out of jealousy. Thank god this isn’t the case.”

“What?! So you’re happy that she survived and killed Bridgette?!”

Roy and Riza watched them argue for a while, feeling awkward. Suddenly, the vampires started whispering clearly not wishing them to hear the topic. Hohenheim sighed and silenced the other too. He looked defeated.

“We decided. We won’t kill you. You defended yourself after all and she had invaded your personal territory as well so... My two colleagues came with an idea.”

Kimblee smirked and crossed his arms. Riza gulped.

“You won’t leave this place unpunished.” Unfortunately, he wanted to add. “Kimblee will bite her and insert venom into her. We don’t want her turned into a vampire so we need the right amount only to...”

“Torture her.” Kimblee continued the phrase grinning as he got up from his chair.

“No way.” Roy said and gripped her hand. She started panting heavily as she felt the fear creep inside her.

“You have no choice. Believe me, she is lucky.” Solf replied. “And also, I hope you will enjoy too seeing her screaming in agony.”

“You are sick.” Roy whispered through his teeth.

“Repeat that.” Solf dared him.

“Both of you, silence. I am sorry, Miss Hawkeye, it’s the only-”

“It’s fine. I will do it.” She had resisted to the vampires before, she was going to to do it now too. What mattered was that no one was going to die. Did she like the idea of being bitten by Kimblee? No, of course not. The thought terrified her. Was she going to have traumas burnt on her brain? Totally. And it was all thanks to Bridgette.

“Can we have a moment, please?” Riza asked Hohenheim innocently seeing that Roy was on the edge with his nerves. The strong vampire nodded and Riza pulled Roy a little farther. “Please, control yourself...” She tried to calm him down even though her own voice was trembling.

“How the hell to control myself?!” he raised his voice and then lowered it. “I don’t want you to suffer. And I’m feeling like a useless idiot for not being able to do anything...”

“Roy... ”she felt the need of cupping his face and ruffling his hair. She wanted to whisper to him that everything was going to be alright. She wanted to press her forehead against his and stare into his deep dark orbs...but they couldn’t do that in front of the council. “I’m going to survive this.”

“It will hurt like hell. And I won’t be able to do anything to stop it. And that idiot is going to torture you as much as he can.”

She arched an eyebrow discouraged.

“I know, I’m not helping... But I know how much it hurt when I have been turned. I can’t forget that type of pain. Sure,you won’t feel the same intensity because, as they said, they don’t want you to become a vampire.” He sighed and stared at the ground not being able to face her.

“I am so sorry.”

“Hush.” She murmured and she stroked his cheek lightly. His eyes became darker and found hers. The moment was disturbed by Kimblee who cleared his throat with a stupid smile upon his face.

They walked towards the three vampires as Kimblee got up from his chair and came closer to them.

“But will he-? ”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stop him in time.” Hohenheim answered guessing Roy’s worry. Lust was watching the whole scene satisfied. “Come here.” She called Roy. “We don’t want you to interrupt anything.”

Roy frowned. He wanted to stay there,to hold her, to try to somehow take all her pain away. He didn’t want to watch it from further. She nodded to him not wishing to see how patient these vampires really were. Roy took a few steps but didn’t approach Lust.

Kimblee had a cruel expression upon his face. He was the hunter, she was the prey. But she didn’t want to be only the poor prey so she tried not to show him how afraid she was in fact. He was a little annoyed by that so he closed the distance between them and inhaled her scent.

“Oh, I can totally see why that mutt is so attracted to your blood. Such a shame I can’t feed on you... ” he whispered in her ear and she couldn’t help but shivered as his hand lingered coldly on her shoulder. She wanted to brush her hair away from the shoulder, but he didn’t allow her and did it himslef. She gulped at the freezing sensation of his fingers on her neck

She felt sick. Before she could think more, his fangs sank sharply deep into her shoulder. She tried not to make a sound even though he had been extremely brusque. She was glad she couldn’t look at Roy from where she was standing. It was hard anyway not to let her tears fall as Kimblee’s sharp nails were hurting her shoulder blades.

She felt her neck starting to burn. A burn that was slowly spreading through her whole body. Without realizing she was already panting fast and praying for it to stop, but Kimblee had no intention of letting go of her. His fangs seemed to bite her sharper. She bit her lips with all her strength as the burning sensation turned slowly into pain and soon she felt like she couldn’t breath so her body tried to escape Kimblee’s grip involuntarily. He held her tighter.

She started to panic. Her whole body seemed to be on fire. And she heard someone screaming. She needed to stay strong, not to give in. Even though she realized that her legs did give in and it was more Kimblee’s grip that was keeping her on her feet. She felt her tears roll down her face and realized shortly that the scream she was hearing was coming from her.

Roy wanted to rip off Kimblee’s neck. He had his fists clenched and his eyes reflected a violent shade of red. He would have stopped him but two other vampires that Lust had called earlier, were holding him against his will.

“It’s enough...” He begged Hohenheim not bearing to hear her scream in agony anymore.

“Yes, Solf, you may stop.” He added seeing that he was torturing Roy as well. He didn’t stop.

Riza could hardly hear anything in the background. She was striving not to lose her consciousness. Everything seemed to blur around her. And her throat was hurting badly both because of the screaming and the venom.

Hohenheim approached them and put a hand on Kimblee’s shoulder. He stopped only when he was pulled away. She fell on the ground as soon as Solf stepped away. The floor was made of stones so it was cold. Or it was supposed to be cold. She needed something to put out the fire she felt, not even the ground was good enough. Hohenheim allowed Roy to go to her.

In her agony and screams that she had grown accustomed to, she felt a pair of strong arms lift her from the floor. Roy pressed her head against his chest and she could muffle her screams. She knew she couldn’t resist more. She couldn’t move any member of her body. She passed out.

----

She opened her eyes feeling a metallic taste in her mouth. It took her a few minutes to remember what had happened. Fortunately she wasn’t in front of the council anymore,yelling and rolling on the ground. She was in her own bed and a worried sick Roy was staring at her from the side of the bed. She felt a faint burn through her limbs and her head was pumping wildly.

“Roy... ” she murmured and he gripped her hand.

“Don’t talk. You’re alright.” He soothed her and she didn’t need more. She fell asleep instantly.

The next time she woke up, the dim light of a cloudy morning was creeping in her room. She couldn’t go to school. Roy wasn’t there anymore. He was probably studying alchemy with her father. Damn, he wasn’t focusing at all probably. She found it funny that she was thinking about his study while she was laying numbly on the bed.

The door of her room opened and she cracked a smile when she saw Roy.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly as he pressed a palm against her forehead.

“I’m not really feeling too much.” She answered still feeling a little flame burning inside of her, behind the numbness.

“You will be alright by this evening.” He added and sat again on the side of her bed.

“Already?”

“Yeah...well you see... There is this one thing that heals you quicker and we’ll I gave it to you while you were unconscious.” He said and ruffled his hair not really knowing how to explain.

“Have you drugged me or something?” she asked realizing she didn’t care as long as she didn’t feel the terrible pain from the last night.

“No,of course not. But do you remember when I told you that my wounds heal faster because it’s propriety of my vampire blood?”

Even though she was confused and not totally awake, it clicked. At least that explained the metal taste in her mouth. Oh well, at least again, it wasn’t her own blood. “Oh” was all she could say.

“Yeah...and I don’t know how to tell you this but you have to drink more.”

Oh. It was one thing to do it when she was unconscious and another to do it fully awake. Firstly, it would be disgusting. Secondly, she was a human and drinking blood was disgusting.

“I can’t... I... ” she stopped in mid sentence as he bit his own wrist and blood started to drip slowly. She felt sick again. “Don’t think about it, okay?” he said and brought the wrist to her mouth. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. She somehow felt like her body wanted that blood. Like her whole being knew it would heal her. She gripped it with her teeth and let the red liquid flow down. And surprisingly she didn’t feel the need to throw up.

After a little she pushed his hand away and closed her eyes trying not to think about what she had just done.

“Fuck.” She murmured.

“Would you like me to react like that when I drink your blood? Because I don’t think so.” He complained seeing the expression upon her face.

“And would it be okay if as a human I would say that I totally enjoyed drinking your blood? Cause I don’t think so either.” she answered back and rolled her eyes.

“Oh good. You’re attitude is coming back. You’re recovering. ” he added and smirked.

[simone-garnett]

title: just a kiss goodnight pairing: killervibe word count: 1.6k information: based on this scene in ‘this is us’. i dont watch the show, but i saw the clip on tumblr a while ago and randomly thought of it again this week but with kv. and thus, this fic was born.

Silence fills the air of Cisco’s car, Caitlin in the passenger seat, staring outside the window at the passing houses. He wants to talk to her, wants to take every moment he can to see her smile or hear her laughter tinkling in the intimacy of the car, to hear her voice calm and dreamy or bubbly and mischievous. He wants it all. 

But the car ride is silent.

There are no words that are shared between them, a sharp contrast to the countless that would always bubble up no matter the circumstances. But that was their friendship, and this...

this was a date.

A horrible, awful, wonderful date.

(It was only wonderful because of his company, objectively, Caitlin aside, it was a terrible first date.)

The drive to her dorm was mercifully short, cruelly quick. Because Cisco never wants his time with her to end, but god, every second is a nail into his heart, the silence an agony he can’t dull.

When he does pull up in front of her dorm awkwardness fills the air. He can see her internal debate displayed across her face,  Caitlin opening and closing her mouth before shaking it, her hand reaching to exit. "Night Cisco." It is a gentle whisper, tinged with sadness, and he can't have that, can't let the night end like this.

“I had thirty bucks.” The words slip out, but he can't find it within himself to regret it.  It grabs her attention,  Caitlin turning her head to him, the door forgotten. It scares him, thrills him, having her attention like this. Because holding her attention, it is incredible, it is intoxicating, but after that date, that spectacular failure of a date, the perfection of it is marred. “I mean, twenty was spent on entering the damn thing, and the food was way too expensive let’s be real, and I wasn’t sure if you’d want dessert after and I just -” he sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“I could have bought it,” she interrupts gently, the look of confusion still on her face. She takes one of his hands, squeezing it softly. And it is though she is instead holding his heart, Cisco’s head jerking up, eyes shining as he watches her, awe in his gaze. It stills her heart, the sight of him, bathed in the glow of the street lights, locks of hair drenched by the rain, shirt clinging to his body. He’s beautiful she thinks, but god, his eyes, his eyes are what kills her. “You gotta know I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Yeah, I know.” He groans in frustration, wiping his face with his palm. “But we’d already made a deal. I’d pay for this date and, if it went well, you’d do the next. I figured if you chipped in then it wouldn’t just be me and you’d use it as an excuse to get out of another date. And I couldn't risk that. Because I wanted more, god I wanted so much more.” He’s rambling, but he can’t stop himself, he doesn’t really want to. Because Caitlin deserves answers, she deserves the truth. And he knows it was a horrible date, that he’ll never have the chance to hold her hand again, to interlace their fingers, to smile at her like she was his whole world and not feel the fool for it. There would never be another carnival game where he could attempt to win her a stuffed toy, another ferris wheel ride where they could sit in a comfortable silence and watch the stars twinkle in the inky black sky.

There would never be another date, no introducing her to mama and papa, no Dante attempting to sabotage a relationship Cisco had done well enough destroying himself. 

And it kills him.

“Between classes and my family... I don’t really have much money to spend on -” he pauses, searching for the right word. And he knows it. Anything. “Everything is so stressful, constantly balancing budgets and dealing with home but, when I’m with you -” He takes a shuddering breath, a smile lighting up his face, lighting up the car when he thinks. “When I’m with you I can feel carefree. I can tell you anything. I feel -" he cuts himself off, a resigned smile curling his lips.  "If home was a person, mine would be you Cait. It would be your smile and laughter and the way your eyes light up when you learn something new and the wrinkle in your forehead when you hear something you don't agree with.” His words leave her breathless and speechless, Caitlin only able to watch as he told her everything. “Being with, dating other people, it's nice. But when I'm with you everything else just doesn't compare. It's -” He let's out a low whistle,  his eyes wide and expressive. “The way you make me feel, what you do to my heart every time you just smile at me...  I'd be a fool to not be half in love with you already.”

Her breath hitches at the implication,  Caitlin forming a fist to stop her hands from shaking. 

“I had dreams for this, for us." he sighs, "this wasn't anywhere close." He shrugs helplessly. "I'm sorry it was such a horrible date."

“It wasn't that bad.” Caitlin leans forward, and he’s distracted momentarily by her hair bounces as she shakes her head in response.

He levels her a look. "Caitlin please, I know what it was, I was there.” She scrunches her nose, but she doesn’t retort. There wasn’t anything she could say. “You're a good study buddy and friend... But god I wish we could have been more.”

It hurts her, physically hurts, the ache in her chest growing as she hears his words, his tone. “The girls in my class read over my shoulder when you texted.” The sharp turn confuses him, but he listens intently, drinks in the extra moments of perfection he’s given. “They told me that if it is a really good first date I should leave my jacket or something in your car, and that if you’re a good guy you’ll come back and return it and hopefully...” The blush on her cheeks as she recounts this makes him believe that leaving the jacket wasn’t their first suggestion for the car, and he can barely bite down a smile as she stumbles over her words. It is only a flicker as she breaks eye contact, Caitlin fiddling with her fingers, watching them instead of him. “But this, well it wasn’t a good date. I don’t think anything went right - including your allergy to cats.”

She’s letting him down gently, he figures. With soft words and a gentle smile and it is crushing. He bares it with a smile. 

Caitlin could have been cruel, but she was being kind and it means the world to him.

She risks a glance at him,  Cisco with his kind eyes and a soft smile. It scares her, how one look can leave her so affected, her heart in her throat. 

“Oh, but the way you look at me...” She breathes the word wow more than speaks it, almost melts in her seat as he turns that look toward her. It is a miracle in itself that she could remember how to breathe, that she could remember her own name. “I’m - well, this is a first for me, so don't judge too harshly” and before he could even as for an explanation she leans forward, Caitlin swallowing his sharp inhale of surprise. He doesn’t move to take control of the kiss, and she appreciates it,

she isn't sure how she'd respond if he did. 

(She'd give in to everything and she knows it.) 

He tastes like sweetness, like lollipops and happiness and Caitlin doesn’t think to deepen the kiss, content there in the moment, simply her and him and his chapped lips. She realises that she hadn’t seen him with a lollipop all day and month. It saddens her.

(She hopes the next time will have a stronger flavor.)

It is seconds, lifetimes, before she pulls away, a bashful smile curling her lips as she catches his gaze, it scorches her, melts her. And she understands what the girls meant when they told her to be somewhere isolated for their first kiss - or to be in the back seat. Because with Cisco she’d be weak, one touch, one word, and she’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

“Alright well,” and it is cute, the scarlet tinting her cheeks. “I’ll see you in class.” And she slips out of his car, shivering as the night air hits her bare arms, rushing back to her dorm room.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from her, not when she walked back, not when she stopped at the door, unlocking it, hesitating before waving shyly at him and slipping inside. And even then he watched a closed door, amazed and in awe, still unbelieving that it had happened, that she had just kissed him. 

It was - she was - incredible. And Cisco can’t help but smile at himself,  the memory permanently branded in his mind. The feel of her lips, the shaky breath that ghosted his mouth as she broke it off, resting her forehead on his own. He wipes his mouth, as if to wipe away the grin in his face.  It doesn't disappear.

But then something white catches his eye. 

His smile widens, and it doesn't fade as he drives off,  Cisco whistling to himself a happy tune.

Because there, on the passenger seat, was Caitlin’s jacket.

[thescreamingdemon]

It’s Never Good News

Cooper: Dropping my empty bottle on the table, I grabbed for another, twisting off the cap when I heard a thud coming from the direction of my room. Fuck no. At first I didn’t know if it was my mind playing tricks on me or what, but then I felt the presence of another. Heard breathing and soft cursing. Damn angels just don’t know how to take a fucking clue. I reached for the gun I’d tucked away earlier and quietly moved through the living room to the bedroom door. Raising the gun, I switched the safety off and readied my finger on the trigger. I stepped around the door and lowered the gun towards the figure on the floor at the foot of my bed. My eyes narrowed as I took aim. My dick recognized the asshole before my brain did because it was stirring to life and tenting my sweats even as I held the gun steady, aiming the sight right at the base of his throat. I didn’t want to fuck up that pretty face after all. I know I told him to get his ass back here to talk, but the only reason I could justify him sneaking in was to catch me off guard. To kill me like the others have tried. Why else would he have gone this route? It was all a fucking game. My alcohol-fueled brain was totally on board with that theory and as I took another step closer, I growled my words at him* You here to finish me off? Or were you hoping to get fucked first before you stuck the knife in my back?

Landyn: [I’d managed to take the comforter down with me, dragging it off the bed when I hit the floor. I was fighting with that when I heard the footsteps that meant I’d been heard. Which was shit. I’d hoped that there was a slight possibility that I’d been dumped back at home, or even a place where it wasn’t occupied by people. Well, I knew that they’d not make me appear out of thin air in front of a whole host of humans. That would be ridiculously stupid, even for them. I eventually managed to wrestle my way out of the bed prison of the blanket before looking up. The first thing I realized was that the gun wasn’t a fake, it was loaded, and the safety was off. Well that wasn’t good! I flicked my gaze past the damn gun and focused on the male holding it. He looked seriously pissed off, and rightly so. I’d said I’d come back as soon as I could in order to get shit fixed up and sorted, and here I was turning up a shit ton of time later. No wonder he was pissed. And after having had the delightful arrival of an angel set on killing him, it surprised me even less that he was armed. Though I’d have thought something slightly more supernatural would have been aimed at me. A gun would hurt like a fucker, but was unlikely to keep me down for long. Instead of throwing out the cocky retort that was already on the tip of my tongue, I slowly raised my hand, having to flap slightly as the comforter tried to come up with me, “Where did you buy this thing, it’s like fucking velcro.” I shook my head and kept my hands either side of my head while shifting slowly to my knees. Wanting to get up off the floor, but happy to stay here until the gun was no longer pointed at my head, “Finish you off? I recall I was the one who stepped in to kill the bitch the last time you were jumped. And if I wanted to stab you in the back, you can be assured I’d not fuck you first. I have some standards, as low as you seem to think they are.” I shrugged at the demon, but kept my eyes lifted so he could see that I wasn’t messing around. He was obviously under the influence, I hoped it was only alcohol, but who the hell knew to be honest. If it was alcohol he could sleep it off in a few hours and then we could talk. I tried for a slow breath before I gestured slightly at the gun, “You want to put that down? You need to sleep off whatever you’ve had so I can talk to you. It’s why I’m here. To give you the answers you told me to go and get for you. Think you can handle that?]

Cooper: *I held the gun steady, even if my lip did quirk a bit watching him fight with my covers. Anger was still winning in the battle of my brain when it came to the demon before me. Though there were other emotions trying to rear up and logic wasn’t all that far behind. Logically, I wanted to believe he’d not been sent to hurt me, but I never was one to listen to logic. If I was, I’d not have fucked him. I’d not want to fuck him again either. But here we were and with him on his knees like that, my rock hard dick was convincing me that killing him would be the only damn way I’d get him out of my system. I gave a slight shake of my head when he asked if I’d put the gun down. I wasn’t quite ready for that. Not until I actually did have some answers, but I did motion for him to get off his knees so I’d get /that/ particular image out of my mind.* Few beers is nothing. You may have killed that bitch, but how do I know it wasn’t just a way to get me to lower my guard around you? Kill some angel nobody and then get close, get what you need from me and then move on.

*I reached down to slightly adjust my damn erection as I motioned for him to move to the other room. Even off his knees, he was too damn much temptation for me. Fueled by anger and beer though and I knew it’d be damn easy for me to give in to that particular brand of temptation too.* You want to give me some answers, start talking. If I believe you, I’ll drop the gun and let you walk out. Better make it quick though, I’m trying to avoid being relocated and if I can’t give them some reason to let me stay who knows where the fuck they’ll make me go next. I’m tired of moving my ass around and starting fresh.

Landyn: [I continued to watch Cooper make up his mind. I kept my eyes focused on his face and the gun. Though it wasn’t exactly easy not to look down and take in what was obviously there just for me. Well, I hoped it was, otherwise I’d just walked in on the most awkward moment ever. Though now wasn’t the time to ask. The gun in his hand, and the look on his face, told me all I needed to know about whether he was willing to pull the trigger. More than once while he spoke, and more than that when he didn’t, I wondered just how close to putting a bullet in my head he was. I took a slow breath and used the bed as a crutch to get on my feet, instantly lifting my hand again to show that I wasn’t going to go for any weapon. While I was good at what I did, and could probably unarm him without too much trouble, I wanted him to trust me. Needed him to now that I had all the information. Since he needed to listen to me. It pissed me off more than I wanted to admit that I was going to be delivering such shitty news, fingers crossed I wasn’t shot for my troubles. I tried talking while I walked to save time, “If that had been the case I wouldn’t have promised to come back and then fucked off for a week. I’m not a complete asshole. Despite how I act. If you had to deal with you and that shit that comes with that, you’d be pissed off all the time too.” I nodded and moved through to the living room, looking around to check we were alone. That sort of confirmed that the obvious interest in his pants had been for me. Flattering, and not something I needed to be thinking about right now. The dude was about to punch my lights out when I told him what I needed from him. Thinking of everything that happened in his garage was not the best way to go, that would not help me think clearly. Instead I stopped and dropped my hands, turning to face the male behind me until I could look him dead in the eye. “I know where you’re going next. It’s not up to you any more. It’s what the angels were trying to stop happening. I would say congratulations, but I have a feeling you’re going to want to knock me across the room, or use that gun, before I’m done speaking.” I grinned at the demon, though the amusement didn’t make it to my eyes, I didn’t find this the least bit funny. Though I still wasn’t entirely sure why. I shouldn’t be invested, and yet my gut told me otherwise. Instead I took a deep breath so I could give the news in a way that would hopefully keep me at arm's length, “But I’ll say it anyway, Congratulations. We’re on the way to your wedding.”]

Cooper: *My senses may have been dulled, but the asshole in front of me had every damn bit of my attention and focus as he moved past me. I could feel the truth in his words but that didn’t abate my anger in the slightest bit. Pissed off was something we both had in common it seemed. The only difference was at least he knew why shit was happening. All my life I’d been left in the fucking dark, moving when told and having no fucking choice in the matter. And now…now this asshole was telling me I had to go again? I cocked the hammer on the gun and leveled it between his eyes when I saw that grin on his face* You think this is a fucking joke? What the hell kind of bullshit is that? I’m not getting married now or every so wherever you’re getting your intel is bullshit.

*My brows pinched and I narrowed my gaze at him, my voice low and gravely as I tried to hold on to the slim thread of control I had left in my system* Is that why you let me fuck you? You were kicking the tires so to speak so you could report back to who the fuck ever and now suddenly I’m supposed to just be all fine and happy about this bullshit of a wedding? I don’t fucking think so. Take your tight ass and lying lips the fuck away from me. Tell whoever it is you’re working for that the jokes over. No angel or demon is going to dictate my damn life another fucking moment.

*My gun remained on him as I walked to the door and held it open* You can walk out or get thrown out the window, right now I don’t care either way.

Landyn: [I felt my fists curl at my sides. I’d give just about anything to move forward and punch the fucker in the face. Instead I was stuck standing still, hoping that gun didn’t go off accidentally with all the anger that was currently radiating from the demon. I grinded my teeth as I watched him finish ranting and move towards the door. I went as he asked, until I was about level with him, grabbing the door and slamming it shut instead of moving through it, “Oh yeah, that night was totally a way to get under your skin. Total plan all along. It was why I was gone so long, cos I already knew what info I needed to pass on, but I wanted to fuck with you a little. Can’t ever take the path that is the easiest!” I snorted and shook my head, turning slightly so I could look around the gun to the pissed off demon behind it, “Throw me anywhere you fucking want. It won’t stop what is going to happen. You know what they do to us if we disobey. You, they’ll just make a little uncomfortable, torch your shop or something. They’ll be a lot less kind to me, they don’t need me.” I tried not to show just how much that thought bothered me. I’d said no to orders before, and I was lucky I was still allowed to do what I did day to day. I’d seen some who hadn’t been any good at their jobs, then said no. They were nothing more than a drooling mess now, their minds locked in some kind of horrific torment. I wasn’t going there. “You don’t have a choice, that much I do know. They need you, or I guess your bloodline.You’ll either go to them or spend your life running, cos they know where you are. And between running from them and the angels, is that any way to live? Just go, listen to what they have to say, do what they want. Surely that’s better than having to stay on the move while dealing with the headache from hell?” I had no idea why I was trying to reason with him. He’d basically called me a whore to get close to someone. If only he knew the shit I’d had to do, and the lines I’d tried never to cross. I stepped closer and growled, “You can bitch all you want. Fight. Try to throw me out of a window. Shoot me if you really have to. But in the end we’ll both end up in the shit. At least you’re likely to live through whatever they will do to you.]

Cooper : *The growl built in my throat as Landyn came stalking over and erupted loud enough to shake the photos on the wall when he slammed the door shut. I flipped the hammer on the gun and slid the safety on before dropping it on the counter beside me so that my hands were free. I closed my fingers around the front of his shirt and spun him until his back slammed the wall as I listened to his snarky ass mouth.* And why should I believe any of that shit. You show up, we fuck, next thing you know angels are busting down my door and you’re telling me I have to get married. I don’t believe in coincidences.

*I tried not to let his words affect me when he spoke of what they would do to him. I didn’t give a flying fuck and why should I. He obviously didn’t give two shits about me.* They don’t need me either, they can find another sorry sack of shit to marry off and do what the fuck ever.

*I actually snorted when he asked if running was any way to live. As if there was any difference. Either way, my life had stopped being my own. I leaned in close so that my nose was almost pressed to his.* Tell them I split and you couldn’t find me or better yet, tell them an angel got to me before you did. I’d rather run than be stuck wherever they are putting me now. You say I get to live, but you’re full of shit because the moment I agree, my life is over. You’ll be the one who gets off free.

*My lip quirked in the corner and I shook my head as any distance between us vanished, my body pressed against his from hip to shoulder almost of it’s own damn accord. Fuck this demon asshole. Fuck the effect he had on me.* That’s what it’s going to come down to, isn’t it. My life or yours. You’re trying to make me feel guilty about you getting punished if I run, but if I don’t, I’m the one who suffers. So tell me, Landyn…why should I give a shit what happens to you?

Landyn: [I exhaled so fucking fast when I heard the safety go on the gun, the loud plop as it hit the table was even better. Though I should have been paying attention to the male in front of me, since he managed to get his hands on me far too easily. Had I been paying attention Id have been across the room and out of reach within seconds. Instead I was slammed into the wall and then held there. This time it was my turn to growl, my head moving from side to side as I tried to answer him without sounding like some horny teenager. “Shit went down and the one who was looking after you was killed. Same angel that came after you we think. I was assigned to you and then what happened, well, happened. I went to get answers. Answers you told me to go and get. Answers I’ve spend a week minus sleep getting so that I could come back down here and tell you about. They didn’t want you to know, I insisted you would be easier to convince if you had the whole truth.” I ran my tongue over my lips, wishing I’d had that drink before I’d been tossed down here with the most pissed off dickhead I’d met in a while. Like I’d fuck someone just to get close to them. I mean, I would have, but nothing like what we’d done. I would have been in charge. There was no trust between those I took to bed, with this lunatic, there had been nothing but trust. Which now burned in my stomach at all the accusations. Which I understood, and yet it was making me want to knock him the fuck out and take him up there whether he cooperated or not. Instead I decided to try and see if my mouth could do more than just get me in trouble. I shifted my weight, hiding a wince at the throb of the muscles in my back, and wrapped my fingers around Cooper’s wrists, “I can’t tell them anything, they know where you are, all the time. They can’t get anyone else, you’re it. The bloodline they need. I think they only just worked it out a few moves ago. At one point when you moved, they must have done tests or something on you. I didn’t ask, figured you’d know. Anyway, that’s that. They’ve been protecting you, which is why you keep having to move, and why you kept having random demons around you checking in.” I snorted and then tipped my head just enough to be able to hazily look him in the eye as he got closer and closer, “I’m not going to be free, you asshole. I’m assigned to you. I get to stand outside your huge state rooms, or follow you around. Go into rooms first to check that no one is trying to kill you. Run your fucking baths, whatever you want me to do. Call you sir or majesty or whatever the fuck title they give you.” I shook my head and exhaled again, trying to keep down the automatic reaction to push back against the male, or wait on whatever instruction he was going to give. I just couldn't like to him, and he asked a question, he was getting an answer. An honest one. He had my full attention. “I’m as fucked as you are. I just won’t be doing the fucking, that’s your job.” I paused as I tried not to wince at what I knew would come with the last thing I could tell him that I knew. “They want an heir.”]

Cooper: *My hand slid from the front of his to close around the front of his throat even as fingers wrapped around my wrist to get me to let go and I slid my thumb over the vein in his throat so I could feel his heartbeat. I was listening, I just didn’t give a damn what he was saying. At least now I knew what happened to the last delivery guy, though I was still less than impressed to find out that I was being watched this whole fucking time. If that was the case they had to know I liked dick and wouldn’t be thrilled with whatever this shit was.* There’s nothing easy about me, Kolute. I appreciate you trying though.

*My hips rolled as I made sure to keep very close contact with the male. If I had to be fucked up in the head over him, I damn sure wanted to make it uncomfortable for him. My eyes locked on his and my lip quirked into a wicked smirk* You call me sir and you sure as fuck won’t be standing outside anywhere. I’ll have you bent over the fucking bath or whatever else I want you to do.

*I should have known that bit was coming but I swear my stomach dropped to my toes when he said it outlaid. An heir. A fucking ankle biting spawn was not going to happen. My lips damn near hovered over his before I pushed back and spun away from him. I could feel the blood rushing from my head. Any lingering buzz I had vanished* Can’t I just spunk in a cup or something? I’m not even sure I can get it up for a chick. How the hell did I get caught up in this…how did you get stuck with this shit? Good fucking hell. This is a nightmare and I need a drink. Or a fuck or a drink and a fuck, something to make it all go away.

Landyn: [The fucker was not making it easy. The thing I should have done was just come back, said I had no answers and then got him out of my system. He could have then fallen asleep and woken up where I was about to have to take him against his will anyway. But I had hoped I could get him to trust me some, to do as I told him just to make his life easier. As it was, he was setting me on fire with the ridiculous touches, just him being this close had my brain firing with images I have no need to recall right at this second. I stayed silent though, waiting on him processing it all. And I knew the minute he’d filtered through it all and hit on the bit I knew would drive him insane. Because yes, they did know he prefered men, but they just didn’t give a shit. If they got him where they wanted him, he’d be a big player. They’d have one up on the angels and a kid that could probably take out most of them with a snap of their fingers. It was a strategic play, and one that either side could have had happen, but the timing had to be perfect. Which was why there had been no prior warning, but now that it was in full steam ahead mode, we were expected to jump. I held his gaze, even as my body flushed with heat and a shiver ran the length of my spine. Even if he was doing it deliberately, which I was fairly sure he was, I couldn’t stop the reaction. It was something that happened without thought. And the mere idea that someone could have that kind of reaction on me was terrifying. Especially now that I wasn’t going to get to explore it any further. I’d have to listen to him do his duties. They were strict once they got you in their grips. While they’d not watch him so closely he’d not manage to sneak someone in now and again, for the most part they’d expect him to spend his evenings with the female they were yet to name. At least to me or him. We’d find that out once I got his prickly ass down there. Instead I leaned properly against the wall as he stepped away, “Both, all of those things sound like a good plan. But you don’t have time. They sent me down as soon as I’d finished being briefed, but they gave me a time frame. And I have to stick with it. You have to stick with it. Difficult or not. And that damn nickname isn’t going to sway me.” I pushed away from the wall and moved until I could meet his gaze again, “ As much as I want it to.” I shrugged a shoulder. Half his questions didn’t need answers, he already know them. I wasn’t going to waste breath with them. “Pack anything you particularly want to take with you. Once we’re up there you can negotiate with them on what to do with your shop and things. But you are going, and you’re going soon.”]

Cooper: *I turned back with a wicked grin as I focused my hearing on his reaction to the nickname. The rest of the shit didn’t matter at the moment, but I damn sure liked knowing that I could cause that reaction in him. That shiver as his body heated told me all I needed to know about his physical sensations, but it went deeper than that. And he knew it. I walked to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of the special brew, popping the tops before I walked over and handed one to him. Encroaching on his personal space, I brushed my body against his and held his gaze in mine until he took the bottle from me* Drink up, Kulote. Until they drag my ass out of here, I’m taking my time getting ready. I’ve never done things the way I’m supposed to and if they’ve been watching like you’ve implied, they knew they were setting your ass up for a difficult time. And since I’m pretty sure they don’t want the human’s to stumble on anything, they’ll more than likely torch the damn place the moment I leave. It’s what they did at my last place. Even found a body to leave to pass as me, poor business owner up in smoke.

*I rolled my eyes and took a long pull of my drink before I pushed away from the demon and turned towards my room. I made sure to take my sweet ass time too. I pushed down my sweats and kicked them off to reveal my bare ass before I crossed the threshold to my room. If I was being summoned, that meant I had to look the part and sweats just didn’t cut it. I didn’t give two shits if he followed and babysat me while I packed either. I wasn’t going to move any faster than I wanted. Fuck them. They think they are going to stick me with some bitch because they want a spawn, they’d learn that I was no one’s puppet. I grabbed my duffel and threw my weapons in there, some of my favorite books, my sketch pads, and a few odds and ends, then went to the closet to grab some clothes. I pulled on a pair of relaxed fit jeans and then a tee imprinted with my business logo. That should piss them off. There was one more thing I would need, at least when I busted free, but I wanted it on me before they torched the place.I called over my shoulder* Can you run down into my office, grab the only envelope in the top drawer of the desk?

Landyn: [I was eternally glad that he seemed to have calmed down fast enough. Though I should have known there was a catch. Did he have any idea how we were even getting to where we were going? I had to guess he was used to them actually coming to pick him up. And I rarely showed off one of my skills, so perhaps he’d never seen it in practice before. Either way, I could really do without the reminder of what he did to my body every time he came near. Because it was distracting. What was the point of getting attached. If I did feel like there was something there, something deeper than a one night stand, it would only serve to hurt me. I’d be forced to watch him night after night with his wife, or whoever he managed to sneak into his bed once he was doing what he was told. That was not the way I saw my future going. Frankly, I hadn’t even seen it going the direction it was on a crash course with currently. I liked the flexibility of the current gig I had. Checking in all over the place, seeing different people and being able to bounce between jobs and time and countries. That all stops now. I was busy saying sorry to the dickhead who advertised himself to any demon who crossed his path with a shop named after one of our kind. He’d yet to work out it wasn’t just his life being fucked with. And he had the infinitely better deal with being able to have pretty much anything he wanted, while I was stuck adhering to his every whim. And I was sure that would be many and often. He didn’t strike me as the type to just take this shit lying down. I shook my head and tips my chin as I lifted my gaze to watch him move around the place, the beer in my hand as I tried to fight my body's reaction to him. Close or not, it didn’t really matter. And that scared me far more than the next few hours did. Which was not comforting. I figured talking worked better than silence, even if he was currently testing me in new and cruel ways. His ass, well all of him, but currently his ass, wasn’t the imagine I needed in my head. So I was glad it was just a passing things before he disappeared into the room, “Tell them that you want it to keep running, or that they have to compensate whoever else is working here. If you care about it, insist they do it. You’re doing them a favour. One that you’re sort of forced into, but you know. You’re an asshole, might as well live up to your name.” I shrugged to myself, as I knew he couldn’t see me. I finished off my beer in one and then turned my attention back to the male “You what…………….um sure.” I frowned at the request, but made quick work of the stairs down to the door through to the workshop and then again to the office. I didn’t hang around, I didn’t want Cooper to disappear on me. I could find him easily enough, but I stil didn’t have time to fuck around. I pulled open the drawer, as instructed, and then grabbed at the only envelope I could see in there. I jogged back up the stairs and burst back through the door, “Ok, got it, that all you needed before we go? Is it important for something?”]

:Cooper: *I almost laughed when he told me to at least fight for the business. He was so adamant that I had no choice in this, yet he thought I had a choice in what they did with my life here? I fought a number of times before, tried to hand over the business, anything to preserve it and each time it went up in flames. Even if they told me otherwise, I had learned long ago their words meant shit. When he left, I grabbed my phone and made sure the will was up to date so that anything in the bank went to Rodney. He was also the beneficiary of the insurance policy since I had no family and all that. Clint would get a payout as well to help cover school for all the work he’d done. Once that was settled, I eyed the window and debated just making a fucking break for it. I wouldn’t though. I knew if I did not only would they find me, I had a feeling they’d make Landyn pay for it. Despite him being an utter tool, literally as they were using him to make me cooperate, he didn’t deserve to be punished because of my stubbornness. They were assholes for playing that game too. One of many issues I held with them was the fact they had no issues punishing the wrong people. I finished packing while I waited for him to return, then set my shit on the table while I finished off my beer. When he came in, I plucked the envelope from his fingers and peered inside. He hadn’t been gone long enough to actually go through it, but at this point, I wasn’t putting anything past anyone. Every thing was in there that I needed, I knew the shop employees would be taken care of, and now I could focus on getting out of this situation. I stepped into my boots and raised a brow at him* You could say it’s important. It’s contacts I need for things. I don’t give a shit what they say, I’m not staying anywhere for this shit. But I’ll make sure you’re out of the way before I cause shit to hit the fan. Since you just dropped in, should I assume you have some other way to get to where we need rather than traipsing to a portal? Or are you one of those assholes who can pop in and out wherever?

Landyn [I frowned at the mention of contacts. Was this for future businesses, because I had a feeling there would be no more future businesses. He was now in the hands of those higher up. They’d keep him and have him pop out babies on the off chance others were killed, kidnapped or other. Once he was in, that was that. I didn’t see a way he could get out, even if he was the most insufferable asshole I’d met in a long time, if ever. And that was quite an achievement considering who my boss was, and his boss, and her boss and up and up it went. I had no idea what was in that envelope, even though he’d just given me an answer. So I just nodded. What did it matter to me what he took with him, so long as he was packed up and ready to go. I looked at the two bags he’d packed, along with the normal array of things that got stuffed in pockets. Keys, wallet, phone. And whatever the envelope was. “I’m sure they’ll check if you’re ready and settled before the make the move permanent. But I would still ensure you have it all before we go where we’re off to. Cos I can’t say for sure they’ll let you come back. Though if you needed something, I would probably be able to sneak down here for you if I needed to.” I had no idea why I offered. It would seriously put my ass on the line, and likely get me in a shit ton of trouble if I was to be caught. But I wanted him to feel he had some control over checking on the place. Even though I could see that he figured it’d be torched within minutes of him leaving. I just sighed, I really had no idea, and I’d await his answer once I’d given him time to think on it. It wasn’t something I needed to know right away. I threw one of the bags over my shoulder and snorted* “Assholes who can pop wherever? You really have so much respect for the different powers of your race, don’t you?” I shook my head and then pulled a knife out of my pocket, I could open time without it, but it made it easier this way, one clean cut and it was done. I made sure the cut was big enough for the two of us to step through before motioning for Cooper to go ahead “We’ll end up just inside the front door of your new home. It’s safe, they assured me it would be, but if you’d rather I went first, I can do that and then come back for you. Someone should be there to meet you. I don’t know who you do or don’t know, so I can’t gauge your reaction in advance, try not to piss anyone off.” I slid the knife back into its holding before stepping back slightly to give Cooper room.]

Cooper: *I shrugged a shoulder and snorted when he said they’d check in. I was shaking my head when I locked my gaze on his* You and I both know damn well my opinion on any of this means shit. If it did, I’d not be stuck with any of this and you’d not be stuck with me. But here we are. I won’t send you to run my errands either. I plan to make far better use of my time than any of that shit.

*I flashed a grin at that comment and then rolled my eyes as he scooped up my bags while I walked closer to him again.* I’m capable of carrying my own shit, you know? I’m a dick but I don’t need a servant to do shit for me. As for the asshole comment it’s more of an if the shoe fits situation. If you can’t tell, people popping in without warning hasn’t exactly panned out well for me. I prefer a little warning from my intruders.

*I eyed the knife and then rolled my eyes as he explained what he was doing. Door to door service, wasn’t I a lucky little demon. No witnesses that way. How convenient. I could only imagine who’d be waiting but there was no way I was letting him go first. If it was a trap, he wasn’t getting caught up in it. He was already too far involved. I stepped to the tear in space and grinned wide at him* Haven’t you figured it out yet, Kulote, pissing people off is what I do best.

*I stepped through and swore the world shift and nearly toppled me over. I couldn’t focus on anyone or anything as I bent forward, hands on my knees as all the beer and the slight amount of food I had took a quick exit via a very violent vomit fest. Showering whoever was standing before me*

Landyn: [I did one final sweep of the room before I stepped through the tear, immediately taking a huge step to the side as I realised what was happening. I should have warned him. Fuck! I winced and placed a hand on his back, trying to sooth him. The reaction wasn’t something I thought about, but it just happened once I realised that what I was used to, he most certainly was not. I mumbled an apology and then looked around the huge entrance hall. I had to bite my lip to hold in the laughter as I saw that one of the three who had come to see us was now a pretty colour of sick. “Um, my fault. I didn’t warn him. I just threw him into it. You said you wanted fast. This was fastest.” I nodded and stepped slightly forward, bringing myself alongside Cooper as I looked between the three faces. My boss was one side, the other two I didn’t know. So that had to mean that they were even higher on the food chain. I waited for them to introduce themselves. They didn’t. Instead they turned to each other, and i could tell that whatever the plan had been, it was no longer that. I wondered if they were used to who Cooper was, and that he wasn’t someone who was scared of them. He’d moved around a lot, though I knew he’d not been up here all that often. That much was in the records that I’d managed to sneak a peek at. I met the uncertain gaze of my boss, and he raised an eyebrow. I just shrugged my answer to the unspoken question. No I had no idea what the fuck was going on. All I knew was that the place now needed cleaned, and us standing around probably wasn’t helping Cooper to feel better. In fact, he probably needed to lie down, “He’ll need to lie down. So whatever plan you have for him being here, it’ll have to wait an hour or two. Bed, food and something to drink will mean that he’ll be up to, whatever, quicker.” I felt my gaze dart between the two males as they stopped their whispering and glared at me, “Show him to his room, we’ll be with you soon enough.” With that they disappeared. I sighed and turned to Cooper, “This is my boss, he knows the place better than me. I’m guessing they meant him to show you to your room. Since I’m meant to protect you, I’ll be coming along too. You good to walk?” I figured he’d not take my help, even if it was offered. But I threw it out there anyway. He had two choices for help if he was struggling, if not, well I just bought him a few hours and some food. Hopefully that would give me some brownie points.]

Cooper: *I heard Landyn step through behind me but I didn’t bother turning my heard, nor did I bother given the three sets of feet in front of me any form of acknowledgement. I was too focused on trying to get the room from spinning and my cleared up. I knew immediately the form of transportation Landyn had used and found myself wishing he was simply one of those assholes who could pop here and there. Would have made this a hell of a lot easier. I did catch a glimpse of the asshole I lost my lunch on and had to fight back a grin. I’d dealt with him before and we’d had numerous discussions. Ones that often ended in bloodshed when all was said and done. I should have known he’d be one of the ones behind this shit. For a moment, I wished I’d eaten more and aimed better. I waited until Landyn finished trying to make excuses for me and pushed to my full height as I wiped my mouth off on the hem of my shirt. His boss was staring at me and I glared right back before dismissing him from my thoughts and turning to Landyn.* If anyone is showing me to my room, it’s going to be you. They couldn’t be bothered to tell me shit before hand, leaving it up to you, then they can piss off with getting me to talk or anything else right now.

*I did glance back at Landyn’s boss and pinned him with a red eyed gaze. I may have vomit breath but I could still be an asshole if I wanted to be. His attitude made me want to be.* If you want to make yourself useful, send food up to my room for us both. Otherwise, you can go kiss the ass of the other two who just walked away since that seems to be your thing. Landyn is quite capable of taking care of me and my needs.

Landyn: [I blinked, wide eyed as I listened to Cooper talk to Emilio, my boss. No fuckin way would I speak to the dude like that. Though he had a lot more power to make my life miserable than he did Cooper’s. I snorted at the last part, cos his needs weren’t going to be taken care of by me, why the fuck would they, I’d brought him here. I shook my head and stepped forward, “Em, just give me directions and we’ll work it out ourselves. As he said, send up food, and if you need us anywhere for a specific time, let me know. I’ll make sure it happens.” I shrugged a shoulder and refused to look at Cooper while I spoke. Emilio huffed out a breath, but once he’d looked between us, realised that neither one of us was following him anyway. I’d been given my assignment, and I wasn’t about to go ahead and leave him hanging for the man who gave me the job in the first place. He beckoned me forward, and I went without issue. Knowing he wasn’t going to do anything past what I’d asked. I was just thankful that Cooper wasn’t able to run. It’s what I’d have been contemplating in his position. Once I was sort of sure I knew where we were going, I grabbed the bags I’d dumped on the floor and motioned with my head for Cooper to follow me. I led the way through the entrance and then up the first and second set of stairs. The place was huge, and honestly, decorated like someone hadn’t really known what to do with the place. So they’d dumped a whole bunch of things at random intervals along the way. Some of the stuff was beautiful, paintings and furniture, but it was to show off money. I continued down the corridor, slowing when we came up to a set of double doors, “So, this should be your place.” I looked around and realised that there was a smaller door across the hall, “And that would be my room when you don’t need me.” I snorted at the difference, which was obvious without even opening the doors. I slid my key into my pocket and held up the one for Coopers room, “So, did you want to do the honours and see what kind of luxury you’ll get to enjoy while you’re here.” I tried not to laugh, the man was one who didn’t give a shit about having anything but what he needed. It wasn’t anything he loved, and as such, I expected he’d barely even notice the place most of the time.]

Cooper: *I didn’t give a fuck about the guy in front of me, even if he did seem to hold sway over Landyn. I figured it was the one giving him orders and maybe that is what made me so fucking pissy with him. I wanted to be the one to give Landyn orders and watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat moments before he obeyed. Fuck this asshole. I wanted to cut out the middle man, that’s all there was to it. It amused me that Landyn was doing his damndest to ignore me at this moment. I planned on making it impossible for him to forget when I was near. If only I could get the damn chance. I followed him down the halls, grumbling again as he took my bags. Fucker. This place was showy and obnoxious and I hated it from the moment I set foot here. It gave me an idea who was behind it all and my plans to gut the asshole in charge came roaring to the forefront once more. I let my head swivel from the room that was apparently mine and Landyn’s and without looking knew that arrangement was never gonna work. I not only needed to get myself out of this shit, but him as well…somehow. I snatched the key from his fingers with a grumbled thanks and slid it into the slot before the door opened. It was a good thing I’d already emptied my stomach contents on the fucker in other front entrance because I could feel the churn building again.* What the ever loving fuck is this shit??

*I blinked owlishly as I took in the gaudy way too elaborate and way too huge space and turned back to Landyn. I waved a hand behind me at the garish black and gold marble columns and over the top shimmering fixtures. Pictures of demons in various stages of copulation and murder lined the walls, some images depicting both.* No…just fucking no.

*I stepped so damn close and reached my fingers into his pocket, snaking out his key as I managed a very not so subtle stroke along his body, then crossed the hall. Opening that door and finding one that was still garish in decorations but less gaudy and far cozier as far as warmth and size. My voice was low and gravely as I leaned my lips close to his ear* You better get used to me invading the hell out of your space, Kulote.

Landyn: [I tipped my head when I noted Cooper’s reaction. Exactly as I thought it would be. I had to press my lips together once the doors opened. His statement exactly what had gone through my mind. The bed took up a good chunk of the room. But there was also sofas and a desk in there. I assumed it was meant to be a one stop shop in case he didn’t want to be out and about, or if he had company over. But I couldn’t see a TV, or anything that would keep him entertained without his shop to work at during the days. He hadn’t been throwing around money when I’d seen his flat, but he had a few things that he appeared to use. The bed was big enough to fit in 4 of him, with wiggle room. Who the fuck needed something that big to sleep in? I blinked slowly as I took in the room, my smirk being slowly replaced with a look of pure horror. The paintings weren’t even things you could avoid looking at, they were each over 3ft all, and at least that in width. Each one painted in excruciating detail. You couldn’t miss a single thing about them. Not to mention each and every painting appeared to follow you around the room. Even those of the dead in the apparent art. I was so taken by the monstrosity of a painting that was pride of place above the bed that I didn’t even notice Cooper move. Not until he’d stepped in close. My breath hitched as I felt him not only invade my personal space, but also touch me without any kind of conversation. My body reacted though, heat slammed into me as I willed myself to stand still and not inch closer. The way his fingers dragged up the length of my body, probably only a couple of inches, but it left a trail of scorched skin. The shiver hitting me before I could stop it. I huffed out a curse and tipped my head. Taking a small breath when I realised he was already across the hall. Hopefully the reaction hadn’t been noticed. Or I could fob him off about it being my disgust for the room. I followed on after my charge and quickly found myself breathing a sigh of relief. My room was much better. Similarly to Cooper’s, I had a bed, sofa and desk. But I had monitors that showed the outside of Cooper’s room, as well as cameras inside the room that showed the windows and the door. No personal details would be gained from them, unless Cooper specifically choose to actively move in front of them for whatever reason. But I could see who was coming and going, as well as ensure his safety from someone trying to break in. I almost swallowed my tongue when Cooper used his term of endearment along with the statement of invading my space. I had no choice in the matter, what he wanted went from now on. But there was no way I could actively seek it out. He wasn’t the one who would be punished. But if it was just the two of us hanging out, watching the TV that I saw attached to the wall across from the TV. Or playing the various consoles that were also present, that would be ok. They couldn’t punish me for that. I turned to face the male and took a slow breath, willing my body to behave and stop acting like some horny teenager. Knowing I was probably sucking at hiding anything from Cooper. “How about we get you settled in next door, grab some food and then get a game plan.” I nodded at the envelope on the desk, “That’s probably got instructions for us. Possibly from as early as lunch time. Since they dumped me with you at night, you’ve not slept. What did you want?” I walked and talked, starting towards Coopers room with the intention of getting his stuff put away and possibly pulling down some of the paintings while I was there.]

Cooper: *I grinned wickedly when Landyn turned to face me. It was fun seeing the reactions he was trying to hide from me. If I was stuck up here, I was finding the joy where I could. And I definitely enjoyed the blond before me. I made sure to keep close to him, staying right up in his personal space as he tried to keep up the professionalism that he was supposed to be showing. I gave his room another look and noticed the cameras that were showing the atrocity that was to be my new living quarters. I paid very close attention to the locations of the cameras an made mental notes for how to use that information in the future. My brow quirked with amusement as I turned my attention back to Landyn. I shook my head at his suggestion* Sleep yes, but no way am I sleeping in that hell hole. We can eat and then I will crash here while who the fuck ever makes that room not …whatever that was. Though, make sure they leave the cameras because I have plans for those.

*I kept my feet firmly planted even as Landyn was oh so very subtle about trying to get me back to my nightmare. He’s going to have to try harder for that to happen. I had no doubts that the moment I was settled in there, they would decide to spring the female I was supposed to marry on me. I was in no damn hurry for that shit at all. Watching Landyn, I backed up slowly, and took a seat on his couch, stretching out quite comfortably. He was the only bright spot I could see at the moment. He could hold his own when it came to me and most couldn’t. I was an ass. Which was likely why I was being put through this shit. I felt sorry for whatever female they conned into this whole arrangement, she must have pissed off the wrong ass people to get stuck with this punishment. Landyn too for that matter. It still didn’t make sense why I had to get hitched. Those questions could wait though, Landyn’s far more important at the moment. My voice held a hint of amusement at that final question of his and I crooked a finger back in his direction* What do I want? I’m fairly certain you can figure it out, can’t you?

Landyn: [I felt my entire body flush as I struggled between being frustrated, annoyed and encouraged by the way Cooper was acting. Basically, as I understood what would happen, it was to make him comfortable and then spring the female on him. From what I could gather she was more than willing, despite knowing his preferences. Confident that she’d interest him enough to throw caution to the wind and do what was needed. I’d have laughed out loud if it wouldn’t have made me seem like a fucking weirdo. She’d not met him yet. The word stubborn had been made for this male. And the more time I spent with him, the more my body remembered that night. More and more I found my thoughts straying to areas they shouldn’t. And of course Cooper wasn’t helping. Getting up in my personal space and hinting at the fact he’d rather stay in my place than his own. Though that was more to do with comfort than me being there. I licked my lips when I heard his command and nodded, tipping my head the little I had to in order to see him. The fact he was so close had my heart rate jumping, the breath coming a little harder and faster as I tried to talk my body back down. “You want paintings removed. The bedding sorted so it’s not so in your face, and i would assume you want a set up like mine in terms of the TV and gaming consoles?” I nodded and pulled my phone from my pocket, my attention never leaving Cooper. I watched as he moved back into my room, and while I relayed his instructions the best I could to my boss, I watched. Cooper sprawled over the sofa. Looking as at home here as if he were back in his own flat. I licked my lips again, finding I was nervous as fuck as I finished off telling them to leave the cameras, they were in good positions for me keeping an eye on security. Once my boss assured me it’d be sorted within the next few hours I nodded and hung up. About to give the news when Cooper spoke again. I was sure he could see and feel my heart jump into my throat. I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth as I weighed up my options. What would happen to me if I did something I wasn’t meant to do. In the end I swallowed hard, holding his gaze as I moved to go past the sofa to the drinks cabinet, “I think we could both do with a drink. I wonder if they have anything stronger than beer in here.” I tried to keep my voice chilled, but even I noticed it was lower than normal. My entire body betraying me, despite the fact I kept telling myself I had to be good.]

Cooper: *I listened as Landyn made the call, but I was far more interested in watching his body as he moved around the room. I spread out on his couch, kicking my leg up on the small table in front and my arm along the back. I knew my shirt rode up my abs slightly, but I didn’t bother adjusting it, just like I didn’t bother trying to hide the reaction being near to him had on me. If anything, I made sure it was even more prominent in my sweats as I watched him. Especially when he dragged his tongue over his lip or worse, when he bit that full lower lip of his. I wondered for a moment if the asshole on the other end of the line heard the growl that built in my chest at that display. Then I realized I didn’t care what they thought of me. He hung up and my eyes narrowed like I was a predator and he was my prey as I tracked his movements.* You’re quite intuitive, Kulote, you know how I want my room, let’s see what else you can figure out about me.

*As he tried to walk past the couch, I could almost smell the effect I had on him. There was nothing better in the world or underworld as it may be. Yeah, fuck the rules and whatever the powers that be had in store for me. They didn’t wanna give me any information or wanted him to have to do their dirty work, I had other things in mind for him. One more step and my arm flew out to grab him by the waistband of his pants. I gave a firm tug to throw him off balance while grinning wickedly* I could definitely go for something stronger than a beer. I’m thinking hard muscle, blond hair, a mouth that doesn’t quit. Got anything like that?

Landyn:: [I was sure I could just get us both a drink, possibly more than one, and forget the next few hours. Since I was pretty sure all the shit should start up again sooner than I wanted. I wasn’t paying attention as I should have been, so the minute the hand snaked out and I moved to counter I was off balance. I grunted and landed hard, fighting to find a place that wasn’t Cooper to put my hand to brace my fall. Not that it mattered. I ended up far too close to the male, which of course brought with it a whole barrage of other problems. Nanely the images that flashed through my mind and the way my entire body reacted to the close proximity. I knew he could tell the second my heart sped up and my breath caught, both of which had nothing to do with the sudden fall to the sofa. I was trained better than to let that affect me. The fact I didn’t want to move didn’t help my cause, and of course that just meant that the time was lost to move without it seeming like I was being petty. Had I immediately jumped up to my feet again, telling Cooper to be appropriate and serious in the current situation, he might have listened to me. Or listened as well as he had up to now. But because I sat, soaking in his body heat and trying to stamp down the way I reacted to him, I had no way to go but to piss him off. I growled softly, more at myself than him. But if he thought it was aimed at him, I wasn’t about to contradict him, “Are you trying to cause problems? What happens if someone walks in here to get you?” I tipped my head so I could meet his gaze, my brow arched as I tried to keep up the mood I’d been in since I’d gotten this fucked up assignment. I shook my head and then opened my mouth to speak again. Of course my phone chose that moment to start ringing, vibrating from my back pocket. I splutted out words that made no sense and then winced as I took a slow breath. This wasn’t going to be weird at all. I tried to push myself up slightly, knowing I’d never get to the thing in time if I attempted to navigate my way off the sofa. Instead trying to arch my back and ass high enough that I could use my mostly free hand to fish for my phone. Hoping whoever was on the other end wasn’t an impatient as I usually was when I tried to contact someone. I managed to knock into Cooper more than once, my hand brushing areas I was not about to think about before I pulled the phone free and slapped it to my ear, “Yes” I swallowed hard and then turned my attention to the male I was currently far too close to, the phone going silent as I was hung up on, “They’re on the way. You’re meeting the mother and sister first apparently. Want that drink yet?”]

Cooper: *Damn did I love tipping if off balance, both figuratively and literally. I let out a huff of air as he fell and slapped my thigh with his hand. He tried so hard to avoid hitting me but ultimately he was almost exactly where I wanted him.  That catch of his breath and the sudden racing of his heartbeat along his throat pulled a low growl from my lips and I kept my fingers curled in his waistband. My smile widened at that growl of his whether it was frustration at me or what because it was damn sexy when he did it. I raised a brow and met his gaze with a lazy one of my own* I don’t give a flying fuck about them, if you haven’t figured it out yet. They know what I am, what I like. They want someone to blindly follow orders, they’re looking in the wrong place. If they walk in here, we’ll deal with it because…

*I shut up when the little asshole’s phone rang and his hands and ass bounced off of me a little too temptingly. I couldn’t believe he actually answered the call in the middle of our discussion, my eyes narrowed as I knew who it was without a word. When he hung up, I tipped my head and moved closer to him, lips barely a hairsbreadth away from his.* One kiss and I’ll be a perfect gentleman for this little bullshit meet and greet. I won’t even bitch when you duck out and leave me to face the hell that awaits me. Though….I will find you after.

Landyn: [I almost growled when Cooper did the opposite of what I’d expected. Though why that surprised me I wasn’t sure. So far he’d done nothing as expected. Even down to how he was acting. I growled softly, feeling how close he was even as I went slightly cross eyed to keep my focus on the male. This was not the way it was meant to go. He was meant to be semi professional. Or at least pissed at me for bringing him here. Not making me remember that one night and the way I reacted to him. I was sure it was something to do with his powers, even though he’d assured me it wasn’t. No way did I react like this. I needed some way to feel like I was in control, maybe piss him off. Get some distance just while I figured out what sort of punishment I’d get if I was to cross the line. Since I knew full well if I gave into anything, it wouldn’t just be one. No one kiss, or one touch. It’d continue to simmer until it could happen again. At which point there wouldn’t be a stop button. We’d both have stretches were we were together and no one else was around. Neither one of us had any kind of control when it came to the other. Or not that I could tell from his reactions. They were more obvious than mine were. Which was saying something. Though I had a feeling he was deliberately exaggerating his to throw me off. I licked my lips, knowing what he wanted, knowing it was exactly what I wanted too. I kept my voice low, tipping my head to kiss him as playfully as I could manage on the cheek before speaking, “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I won’t be ducking out. I am there to watch and ensure your safety at all times. No matter what you’re doing. Even when you’re fulfilling your duty with the Lady, Princess, whatever the fuck she’s called. I’ll be posted just outside, or watching the cameras to ensure no one is trying to harm you. Even when I’m sleeping, there’s alarms set on all the cameras in case of movement. They’ll alert me. I’m literally at your beck and call 24 hours a day.” I lifted my gaze to meet his as I hovered close, unwilling to move away, despite the dick move of the kiss on the cheek. I knew we didn’t have long, and I was wasting time. But I equally knew what they’d walk in on if things continued. And that would only be bad for me. Not that Cooper was aware of that, or would ever be enlightened to that fact.]

Cooper: *I growled in frustration at both his words and the damn kiss to the cheek. I kept my ears pinned to the door as my fingers curled into the back of his hair. I closed the distance and took his lips in a demanding kiss, hard and brutal and all too damn brief when I pulled back and narrowed my eyes at him* I dunno who you pissed off but I like you being and my beck and call. I will damn well take advantage of it too.

*I knew there would be consequences for him if we were caught. They couldn’t risk me bailing yet and damned if Id let him suffer. I dragged my fingers through his hair as I untangled my body from his before slipping off the couch and standing to my full height. I could hear them approaching down the hallway and a shiver of dread raced down my spine. My voice low and husky. * We’re not finished, Kulote, remember that.

*I smoothed my shirt down and willed the tent in my sweats away as I approached the door. I gave Landyn one last chance and as the door started to swing open without much of a knock, I let out a low growl and blocked it with my foot. I peered around and saw one of the men from earlier along with…I growled low in my throat..*I should have known you were behind this shit. Before anything else, this needs to be made clear, no one enters this room or mine without knocking. Landyn, you can stay here while I take my father and his guests to the atrocity that is my suite. You don’t need to be witness though I’m sure you’ll hear us clearly while we….discuss this situation.

*I gave him one last look, winking, before I turned and walked out, closing the door solidly behind me. I crossed the hall silently, ignoring the group of four that followed me, as I opened the door to the house of horrors.*

Landyn: [I felt that shiver thread down my spine, knowing it was the reaction to Coopers growl. I wasn’t prepared for the kiss though. Assuming he’d be pissed off enough to just throw me to the floor and leave. I was thrown enough that the groan escaped my lips before I could stamp it down. I wanted more the minute his lips hit mine. I knew they’d be swollen, and I didn’t give a shit. I leaned into the kiss and found my fingers curling into the fabric of Coopers shirt. Using it to pull him close, the sting from his fingers in my hair the only things that seemed to keep me grounded. The kiss wasn’t in any way long enough for me to enjoy it. But I knew without speaking that he could see exactly what he did to me when his eyes connected with mine. The echo from the hall incredibly loud in the room, despite the fact I knew they were far enough away that we’d have a minute or two. The hushed words had me doing nothing more than nod. I knew we weren’t finished, and I was certain that he’d take advantage of the fact I couldn’t do more than obey him when we were in public. He was in charge, and I could question or offer up alternatives, but if he chose to go his way, I had to do as he wanted. I knew that would probably come back to bite me in the ass, but what could I do about it!

I tipped my head and watched as he straightened himself. Almost forgetting that I needed to do the same. I stood suddenly when the door opened, a frown hard on my forehead at the interruption without notice. Was that how much I was worth here? I wondered if they’d have done the same to Coopers’ room, or whether it was just me they were looking for. I noted the surprise on their faces when the door wasn’t answered by who they suspected. Even more so when he made his feelings clear by blocking them outside. I took the opportunity to stand and ensure I didn’t look too wrinkled. Though I could see the twitch of brows when the door eventually opened and they saw me. Even if they hadn’t, the announcement about my room as well as Coopers pretty much told them what they needed to know about us. Friendship or more, it hadn’t been the arrangement. I shrugged a shoulder to show that I didn’t care, and then turned my attention to Cooper. His direction almost making me growl. I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove that idea, then snapped it shut. “Of course, I’ll check the surrounding areas, and if you need me you just have to yell.” I nodded and narrowed my eyes. Ensuring that he was well aware at how pissed I was at being excluded. I then moved back to the cameras. I watched as the whole party filled into the room. Looking over the various buttons to see if there was some way I could listen in. Ensure he was safe and figure out what was happening. It took me a few minutes, but I was able to move the camera just enough to ensure I could see the edge of the desk. That brought all the men into focus, minus Cooper. Of course the one I wanted to look out for wasn’t in the frame. I snorted and then pushed away from the desk, opening my door so I could try to hear what they were talking about. The room had been built for privacy from prying eyes. Not so much if you wanted to listen in. I couldn’t hear basic things like footsteps, or if they were speaking quietly. However, as they were all pissed off, their voices travelled, and I wasn’t complaining about that one.] #ItsNeverGoodNews

[meditationadvise]

What My Morning Meditation Practice Taught Me About Power and Compassion

I love meditation. I locate the simpleness of the act lovely. I love that there's no best method to do it, as well as I also enjoy that it's easily transportable. I could practice meditation anywhere: on the metro, a plane, my living space, also in the restroom during a loud family function if I require to (as well as occasionally, I really, truly have to!)

But, as is the case with numerous points that benefit me, I have the tendency to stay clear of meditation up until I truly feel the need. And the truth of the matter is, I am an individual that 'needs' to practice meditation on a regular basis. My natural state is just one of continuous on-the-go-ness, and also my mind wants to follow match-- bouncing from one idea or task to the next, ad nauseam, until it's time for bed and I'm entirely exhausted.

I've always implied to obtain around to earning meditation a component of my daily regimen, yet until this previous week, this goal fell repetitively by the wayside instead of other 'much easier' routine tasks, such as sleeping, consuming, functioning, feeding the pet cat, and cleansing the washroom (just to call a couple of). In short, there was something holding me back from including this incredibly important task in my everyday life. What was it that kept me from taking part in this (as I've specified) simple, feel-good task?

If I dig deep, I believe the response is ordinary as well as simple: Anxiety. Anxiety maintained my reflection technique on hold. Worry of just what, you ask? I believe that answer is pain. Here's the important things: The very first few mins of meditation has the tendency to bring up a great deal of anxiousness for me. I am most comfortable while doing something. I never intend to throw away a minute of time.

However, this past week, I decided to neglect my fear, approve whatever would emerge, and start every morning with reflection-- also the early mornings when I needed to wake up at 5:45 a.m. to train my first customer. Here's exactly what I discovered during this very first week:

1. Meditating in the morning is testing for my mind ... for a few minutes.

I am, in general, a quite happy individual. I like my life, and also I have significant appreciation of what I have. When the alarm system clock goes off in the early morning, I do not feel horror or fear like I made use of to when I was an active alcoholic. Rather, I feel really thrilled when I get up. However this excitement could be frustrating and requires grounding.

From the moment I jump out of bed, I am currently assuming concerning all things I intend to do: shower, drink hot water with lemon, make a green shake, feed the cat, placed in my contacts, pack food for the day, etc., and so on. I really feel like I already have a very big early morning regimen, and also the concept of including reflection felt like also much. Therefore, for the very first few days, there were minutes of discomfort (or, rather, minutes I classified as awkward), as well as I really felt disappointment at resting still, as the clock ticked and also I 'wasted time.' Yet as soon as I had the ability to loosen up and also allow go right into the reflection, this anxiousness minimized, and by the end of the session, I felt a lot more grounded, kicked back, and in a better location to take on whatever deep space would bring me.

2. Meditating day-to-day permits me to be more mindful and tranquil throughout the day.

For my weeklong challenge, I rotated between 2 directed meditation apps-- Headspace as well as Inscape. I've used Headspace a whole lot in the past, yet I wanted to experiment with Inscape for variation. All the Inscape meditations I did culminate soon of 'attaching your inner and also external globes,' as well as they delicately remind you that whenever the day obtains frantic, you can go back to your tranquility, meditative state, merely by checking in with yourself.

This verified to be an extremely efficient pointer for me, and also I would certainly touch right into this grounded connection several times throughout the day when I really felt stressed or overly thrilled. It benefits me to cognitively zoom out whenever I feel the tight pains of anxiousness in my belly, and my everyday technique helped me to maintain this reminder at the center of my mind.

3. Involving in the method of day-to-day meditation is empowering.

When we test ourselves to do something that enhances our self-care, it brings a feeling of self-empowerment as well as can in turn lead us to make a lot more healthy and balanced choices throughout the day. Self-care is an act of vanity, and also just when we deal with and love ourselves could we begin to like others completely.

4. Daily meditation makes me a lot more compassionate.

Even though I now live appropriate throughout the Hudson from Manhattan, I am still quite a Brand-new Yorker. I talk, walk, eat, and speak quickly, and as such, I likewise have the tendency to become irritated quickly if somebody inadvertently reduces me off on the pathway, or if I need to wait too long for a train, Uber, or bus. Simply put, I can be very quick-tempered. I don't particularly care for this character flaw in myself, and also so I attempt to be mindful of it. Meditation shows us the art of decreasing from within, and when we do so, we are able to take a breath more deeply and pause prior to acting from a place of impatient wrath.

5. Meditation strengthens my spiritual connection with the cosmos, as well as my life is much boosted when I really feel connected.

I have actually constantly understood this, however since my reflection technique had actually been occasional before this week, I didn't understand exactly how crucial it is for me to keep this link going, and also to enjoy it grow. Towards completion of the week, my anxiousness during the very first few mins decreased as well as I was extra quickly able to slip into the basic state of being and also taking a breath. With this basic job, I become a lot more deeply aware of just exactly how intertwined most of us are, as well as tapping into this connection brings a sensation of unity, both within as well as beyond, myself.

Taking on this reflection difficulty revealed me a lot of features of myself and just how much my mindset is affected by outside aspects. It is very important for me to remain linked and also open from within, as well as meditating everyday aids keep the network of connection between these two globes open.

I know that I am a more complete, delighted, as well as kind being when I meditate daily, as well as this permits me to handle life's obstacles with aplomb. My purpose is to proceed depositing my concern and bookings as well as maintain this practice going. If you wonder concerning the influence meditation can carry your life, I urge you to simply begin. I very recommend making use of a directed reflection app if you are brand-new to the method, as I understand there could be a lot of complication regarding 'just how' to meditate. Both Headspace as well as Inscape provide complimentary trials that are adequate to get you started. Attempt your very own one-week difficulty, and also you simply may locate (like me) that it's something you would certainly take advantage of day-to-day.

[taizi]

If you're up for it, I'd love to see more of all 4 of them from the natsuyuu soulmates AU! (it was so good, gosh) Perhaps something from Tanuma's or Natsume's POV this time? I'm curious to know what it was/is like for the two of them too!

companion piece to this prompt !

x

When Kaname actually gets the job offer, he almost turns it down. He only applied in the first place on a whim, and it’s such a big move, and he’s not the brave, bold kind of person who would leap on an opportunity like this –

But as if sensing his doubts, the counter on Kaname’s wrist moves. It hasn’t so much as flickered in years, and now it starts to go up instead of down.

And Kaname’s hands move on autopilot, tapping out a return email with his heart in his throat.

Thank you, he writes, and Yes, I can start immediately, and I look forward to working with you.

The numbers still again. Kaname puts his head in his hands and wonders if it eight a.m. is too early to go back to bed. Then he picks up the phone to call his father and closest friends and inform them he’s moving six hours away, by the end of the week actually, and do they know where he should start looking for affordable sublets in Osaka?

Shibata is still looking up at him like he’s crazy two days later, but he helps Kaname pack with only minimal complaining.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks before he leaves, when Kaname’s apartment has been stripped to bare walls and cardboard boxes and Kaname is wrapping the last of his plates in newspaper. “I mean – this isn’t like you.”

Kaname musters a smile, almost sick with nerves. It isn’t like him. But –

He looks at the still numbers on his arm and thinks, somehow, this might be the right move to make.

Or it’s entirely the wrong move.

Kaname gets off the train with his single rolling suitcase and promptly has a panic attack in one of the station bathrooms. He should have thought about this. He’s an idiot and everything is going to be terrible. He’s hours away from his only family, he doesn’t know anyone in this city, he doesn’t know where to go, what is he doing here?

A text to Shibata finds Kaname on a conference call moments later with both Shibata and Taki, who bully and cajole him respectively back into some semblance of mostly functional human being.

“Do you have your inhaler?” Shibata demands, prompting Kaname to pat down his pockets and confirm that he does, in fact, have his inhaler. “Good. You better take care of yourself, idiot. I swear, if I have to come after you I’m going to be severely annoyed.”

But he���ll come after Kaname if Kaname needs him to, won’t hesitate to bail on work and hop on a train if he thinks Kaname isn’t okay, and knowing that is a much-needed comfort. Kaname smiles, and his hands, clenched into shaking fists in the fabric of his jeans, finally loose.

He’s in a new place, and hours away from the people who love him, but he isn’t in another country. He isn’t so far removed that he’ll never see them again.

“We’ll come see you the second you get settled,” Taki tells him kindly. “I’m so excited for you! You’re going to do so great!”

“Of course he is. Call us back when you get to your creepy Craigslist apartment, Tanuma!”

Kaname laughs as he hangs up, and the warmth of the laughter stays with him as he braves the busy station and drags his suitcase after him into the sunny streets. With his friends in the front of his mind, it’s that much easier to breathe.

Kaname isn’t sure when the rest of his things are due to be delivered, so getting settled into his modest apartment is the work of about five minutes. In that it takes him four minutes to get the door unlocked, and once inside he shoves his suitcase into the bedroom, shrugs out of his jacket, and collapses face-first into the musty sofa the previous tenant left behind.

The city traffic is loud even through the closed window, and someone in the hallway is banging violently on a door.

Home, Kaname thinks, and rolls onto his back. He stretches his arms out above him, and tugs back the sleeve on his left arm to see if his counter is still –

“Oh,” he whispers, as the numbers continue to spin lower and lower with dizzying speed.

Kaname sits up slowly, tucking his legs underneath him, and cradles his wrist closer with a careful hand. He sits that way for a long time, until shadows stretch across the floor as noon slinks closer to evening and his phone fills the room with Shibata’s ringtone because he forgot to call his friends back. 

The counter finally slows somewhere around the nineteen hour mark, and only the seconds are left ticking by.

19:14:38 and he’s never, ever been this close.

Home, he thinks again, with a hope so heavy it could probably crush him.

Two of his neighbors turn out to be young men his own age, who introduce themselves as Kitamoto and Nishimura. They’re kind and welcoming, despite Kaname’s terribly awkward first impression, and Nishimura is almost relentlessly friendly. Kaname can’t help thinking he and Taki would get along like a house on fire, and the similarities between them have Kaname warming to Nishimura almost immediately.

“If you just moved in, you probably have no food at your place,” Nishimura says with all the certainty of someone having lived this truth himself at one point. “We can show you around and stuff later, but for now you should come over for dinner tonight! We’re making omurice. We’re awesome at omurice.”

“It’s the only thing we know how to cook,” Kitamoto amends dryly, and steers Nishimura away by the shoulders. “Sorry for taking up so much of your time. We’ll see you tonight.”

They’re a soulmate pair if Kaname has ever seen one, and he watches them bicker their way down the hall with a smile. Rubs the numbers on his wrist with an ache and a longing, and only a small amount of light-headed fear.

“I’m not surprised you’ve made friends already,” his father says kindly when Kaname calls him with what little news he has to offer about his first day in Osaka. “You were always a popular boy.”

That is a bold-faced lie, but Kaname was certainly never without friends, and that’s probably what his father means anyway. His eyes are glued to the counter on his wrist, as they always are anymore, and he’s dying to bring it up at the same time he’s terrified of jinxing the whole thing away.

He’ll keep it to himself a little while longer. There’s only four hours left to go, anyway.

Kaname stands outside his neighbor’s door with his fist poised to knock and thinks this is probably exactly where he’s meant to be standing, because the numbers on his arm are still moving, and it’s fourteen seconds, and he knocks, and now it’s nine, and now six –

And the door opens, and Kaname pulls his eyes away from the zeros on his wrist. It isn’t Nishimura or Kitamoto waiting there to greet him, but he wasn’t really expecting either of them. He looks into wide amber eyes and feels the breath go out of his lungs in a rush.

His other half touches Kaname’s cheek reverently, with fingers that tremble. Kaname covers his hand with one of his own and holds on.

It’s been a long and lonely life without him, and Kaname has waited every single day for this moment, for this man specifically, and now he can only stand here and soak up the sight of the rest of his life, greedily and with extreme prejudice.

“I’ve waited to meet you for so long,” he murmurs, and his soulmate’s breath shudders. He looks as terrified as Kaname feels, and every bit as longing, and tragically lovely.

Beautiful, Kaname thinks, with both an artist’s eye and a hopeless heart, beautiful.

Natsume Takashi lives alone, and has always lived alone. Even as a child, he was often by himself. He has no family and no home outside his little one-bedroom apartment, and his only companion is his fat, spoiled cat.  

“I came to this city because it was brand-new to me,” Takashi says, “and I wanted a fresh start.”

He’s unguarded as he speaks into the dimly lit room at large. They’re tucked together on his sofa, the window open to let in the autumn breeze, and Kaname pulls him just a little bit closer.

Takashi is fragile, despite the iron resilience that brought him this far, and devastatingly lonely – and worse than that, accustomed to loneliness.

“I wish I had found you sooner,” Kaname tells him quietly, and feels Takashi lean away just enough to look up at him.

“It’s thanks to you we met at all,” his other half tells him firmly. “I would never have had the nerve to do what you did – to make such a big move, on such a small chance.” He shakes his head, admiring and affectionate as he adds, “You’re amazing, Kaname.”

It’s the first time anyone has told him that. Sickly, shrinking Kaname, who could hardly join in PE more than a dozen times a year, who passed through school like a shadow and relied on his two bright and fiery friends all those times he got lost in the crowd or fumbled up his words, who locked himself in a bathroom stall the day he arrived in this new city and wanted nothing more than to run back home.

But Takashi is smiling up at him without cruelty, honeyed eyes like something out of a fairy tale – and if he’s the one saying it, maybe it’s true after all.

Maybe it could be true. Maybe, for Takashi, he wants it to be.

“I can’t believe you uprooted your whole life just to chase your heart like a shojo hero,” Shibata fumes. “You’re ridiculous!”

“He’s wonderful,” Takashi contests immediately, reaching over to smooth the fringe out of Kaname’s eyes. Kaname feels himself flush hotly and aims a stupid grin at the Skype window open on Kitamoto’s laptop.

Taki’s eyes are shining, her hands folded in front of an impossibly wide smile, and even Shibata can’t maintain his scowl for long.

“Ugh, gross,” he says, with the hint of a grin. “You two deserve each other.”  

“Oh, and make sure you send over those pictures of the two of you that you promised me. Don’t give me that look, Tanuma, you promised!”

Takashi groans, and Nishimura laughs brightly from the other side of the living room. Ponta waddles over to make himself comfortable in Kaname’s lap, and the apartment smells like the omelets Kitamoto is cooking for dinner, and Kaname’s childhood friends are making plans to come visit sometime soon. Takashi smiles freely more and more with each day, and those smiles make every single minute Kaname waited for this worthwhile.

Home, Kaname thinks, and this time he means it.