#too busy scheming to hook up

[kittykatninja321]

Post-Flashpoint comics have been trying to push the idea of Jason as a ladies man and each time I have just not been convinced I say this with all the love in my heart I will concede to the fact that Jason Todd has had sex maybe 3 times. If I’m being generous

[moonstruckme]

wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️

Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together. 

He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.  

He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then. 

He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.” 

Your voice is still stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest. 

He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…” 

Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.” All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning. 

“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he was hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.” 

A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.” 

You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit. 

A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?” 

“Mhm.” 

The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.” 

“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…don’t thank me yet.” 

A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”

“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”

You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening. 

“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the paper?” 

For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says. 

He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.” 

Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you. 

“Sure, let’s try.” 

“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”

“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.” 

But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone. 

“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?” 

The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs. 

“Spence?” 

“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.” 

“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.” 

Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?” 

“No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.” 

He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.” 

You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink. “Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it. 

“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?” 

Spencer winces. “Not really…” 

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.” 

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (I)

Chapter 1 : For the Best

Hello!! Here is a new series! I’ve already finished writing and proofreading it, and I’ll be posting two chapters per week! I hope you’ll like it!

Please, tell me what you think!

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

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2739

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was a logical decision.

That’s what Andrew kept telling himself. As he watched you pick up your clothes, scattered across his bedroom floor, he forced his mind to form the same thought over and over again.

This is for the best. There’s no choice.

It was part of the deal. You never stayed for the entire night, and he didn’t linger long enough to fall asleep in your arms. Made it easier. Avoiding getting attached, avoiding stepping into any type of complication. You had sex, and then you were gone. On the side, you were good friends.

Best friends.

Something like that. Something in between good and best, he would say. Good didn’t sound strong enough to describe your friendship. It explained why it all happened in the first place, why you started casually hooking up about three months ago. After your first kiss, you decided to establish a simple rule.

If we do this, it can’t be anything but sex. We can’t get attached like this.

Romantically, that’s what you meant by this. And Andrew got it, of course. He spent most of his time abroad, it was the only logical decision. Besides, he had tried before to have serious relationships, but every time the same scheme repeated itself: he would leave for tour, and everything would fall apart. The distance always extinguished the flame. That and the fact that he was so busy he barely had time to sleep, let alone dedicate quality time to anyone. And he understood, of course, he couldn’t complain about being dumped when he spent a grand total of 20 minutes on the phone with his partner in the span of a day, when he got lucky. He got it, the ghostly presence, the lingering pain of being apart, the estrangement that came with the oblivion of the other’s life. He knew what it felt like, and he understood that others were not ready to go through that for him. He wasn’t worthy of it. It was alright…

And he understood that you didn’t want to get dragged into his mess of a life. To be fair, he didn’t want to drag you into this either, and he agreed when you offered this arrangement. He didn’t feel like he had a choice that day, when you made him this offer so casually, in front of a cup of tea. He could have said no, but his feelings for you were way too strong for that. Better have a little bit of you than nothing at all…

Friends by day, sex by night, no romantic feelings. Sounded simple enough.

“Damn… where’s my other sock?”

You looked around frantically, searching for the tiny piece of garment. Andrew spotted it by the door. He didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re coming to Alex’s party tomorrow?” he asked instead, voice a little hoarse after the sounds you had torn from him tonight.

“Hmm… yeah, probably. He’ll have my head if I don’t, anyway.”

“Perhaps not your head, but definitely your sanity.”

“He does hold grudges like no one else…”

Andrew stared as you buttoned your jeans, still searching the room for your lost sock, the one he didn’t help you to find. He readjusted the blanket higher on his torso, feeling self-conscious now that he was the only one left naked.

“Want me to pick you up?” he offered, and you nodded with a grin.

“Yeah, that would be nice! That way I can get properly sloshed.”

He chuckled at that, bathing into the warmth of your laughter, smiling without a thought.

“Oh, and I need to go to your mother’s tomorrow!” you informed him, readjusting your shirt.

His shirt, as a matter of fact. His heart stumbled at the sight…

“Really?”

“Hmm… she wants to take pictures of several objects for her artwork. I’ve volunteered to go around Dublin with her tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

“We both know I like Raine better than you. I’m only keeping you around to have her,” you teased, throwing Andrew a mischievous wink.

He tightened his hold on the sheets.

“Oh, I see. You’re only using me to get to her… and I thought you only used me for sex.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” but he noticed the way you bit your lip, refraining a smile, and how you averted your eyes in shyness, and he loved the sight…

Your eyes fell on the lost item, and you let out a victorious cry picking up your sock, while Andrew swallowed back the lump in his throat.

You sat down on the edge of the bed to put your socks on, and he didn’t think as he sat up, leaning into your form. He didn’t wrap his arms around you, merely rested his shoulder against yours, revelling in the warmth escaping your body.

He pressed his lips to your hair, felt you tensing, saw you stopping your movements.

“Ring me when you’re home, okay? It’s late. Are you too tired to drive?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that tired,” you answered, voice weaker than before, but he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because the night was quiet but for the branches of trees singing in the wind outside, and it felt like the world had slowed down, like it was more peaceful than usual. Perhaps because you were uncomfortable. Hard to tell.

He moved away, just in case. Distance cutting your edges and his with cold. And yet Andrew remained but centimetres away.

“Alright. Still, tell me when you’re home, okay? Just to be safe.”

You seemed to relax, he didn’t know if he liked that reaction or not.

“I like it when you do that.”

It sounded like a confession, the words on your lips quiet and velvety, soft to the touch.

“Do what?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Get all worried about me.”

You gave him a smile, one that he offered back with ease.

“Hmm… don’t have a choice. You’re a menace behind the wheel.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! You almost killed us last month!”

“It wasn’t even my fault, there was a fucking sheep running across the road, coming out of nowhere!”

“Can’t believe you’re blaming the fauna for this…”

You both laughed at that, and when you grew quiet again, smile still lingering on your lips, you let your head fall to rest onto his shoulder, and it was Andrew’s time to relax. You lifted your hand to rest upon his chest, right over his heart. For a second, he felt embarrassed at the thought that you would feel how fast his heart was beating, but your palm was too warm against his skin, and he soon couldn’t care enough to worry.

He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close, but not too much, not as much as he would have wanted, too afraid you would push him away.

“I know that… that’s what friends are made for, but still… it’s nice. Thank you, Andy.”

He closed his eyes as he rested his lips against your hair; closed them too tightly, until it hurt.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he whispered into your skin, mouth drifting to press against your forehead. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You hummed, leaning into him even more, and he felt all your muscles relaxing as he rubbed your back, palm flat against your spine, the curve so familiar under his hand by now.

You heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Andrew answered without a second thought, not thinking about what he had planned. He would move his schedule around for you anyway.

You looked up at him again, blinked a few times, as if to fall back onto earth. There was something dreamy in your smile.

“Good night, Andy.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

That was another one of your rules: no affectionate pet names.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you turned your cheek to his lips instead, and acted like it was nothing, like he had never been aiming for your mouth in the first place.

Third rule: no kissing without sex.

The next second, you were standing, walking towards the door. He stared as you walked out, listened to the padding of your feet on the tiles, the creaking of his staircase. He waited until the front door closed, and he let himself fall back into his pillows.

It was a logical decision, he didn’t have a choice.

Andrew, you absolute fool…

His mother was worried, which meant that Andrew was worried.

She was smiling at you as if nothing was wrong, as if the sunny afternoon truly was as bright as the beams coming across the green leaves of his parents’ garden trees.

Andrew was not fooled though. He knew his mother too well not to see the signs, to be blind to her slight frown, to the drifting downwards of her gaze, to the worried lip she kept biting on.

Raine didn’t say a word while you were here though, and it only worried Andrew more. You were a friend of the family; almost part of the family at this point. You were close enough to Andrew’s parents and brother to spend time with them on your own, just to see them. And they invited you often as well. If Raine wasn’t saying anything in front of you, it ought to mean that this was serious, that something terrible was happening. His thoughts drifted to his father…

“Andy? You’re okay?”

He blinked up at you, soothing the frown he had not noticed across his brow. He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Sure, why?”

“I don’t know… you look… worried. Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just lost in thought.”

You narrowed your eyes a little at him, clearly unconvinced, but Andrew shot you a smile, asked a question to draw the conversation back to you, and you yielded.

It was such a sweet afternoon, after all. You had spent some time taking pictures for Raine, and somehow had found your way to her garden, with tea and biscuits, a little high on sunlight and laughter. It was lovely. It almost felt like you and Andrew were not friends, almost like you were in your own family home. He pushed that thought away quickly though, taking a sip of tea and regretting that there was no burning effect of alcohol when he swallowed.

When you left to go home, Andrew was aware that he held you too tightly, for too long, that he let his lips linger against your cheek for more than a mere peck. But you didn’t push him away, and so he leaned further, allowed himself to be close, just for a moment.

You hugged Raine, promising to come back the following week for an artsy afternoon, and left as the sun abandoned the sky.

Andrew was washing the teacups when he finally asked his mother what was bothering her.

“Nothing, honey,” she reassured him, but he shook his head and gave her a hard look.

“Come on. Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something on your mind. Are dad and you okay?”

“Oh, darling… of course, we are. Don’t worry about us, we’re both fine. No, it’s… it’s you I’m worried about.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a laugh, a mixture of relief and surprise.

“Me? Why would you be worried about me? I’m good.”

“Are you, though?”

She gave him that look, the one that pierced him to his soul, the one he couldn’t run away from. The one he knew would claim the truth, in the end. He felt like a child when she looked at him like that, like he had just stolen a cookie from the jar and was caught red-handed as he tried to hide the proof of his crime.

“I’m fine, mom. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. I really am.”

But her gaze only hardened. Not in a cold way, on the contrary. It was a gaze of steel in its firmness, but that held all the love she had for him. His heart sank at the sight.

“Don’t lie. I know there’s something off between you and Y/N.”

Andrew struggled to swallow, looked away, fleeing. He stared at his hands still holding a teacup, and he noticed it was yours. There were traces of your lipstick on the edge of the pale porcelain. He traced it with his fingers absent-mindedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, but his lie was obvious, his voice too low, too weak. In the sink, his fingers pushed the cup into the water, disappearing under soapy bubbles, and he left them there, in the warmth of the water, staring at the flesh that had disappeared, at your trace that was gone but that he hadn’t erased yet.

“Andy… you know that you can tell me anything. I’m your mother. You can always tell me anything that bothers you. That’s my job to help you. And I’m great at it.”

Her joke made them both chuckle, but he didn’t look at her. He rubbed at the stained spot on the cup instead, but blindly so, unable to see the destruction of your lips over the edge of the porcelain.

“I don’t know… it’s a little weird,” he whispered, struggling to find the right words and hating that about himself. How it was so much easier to write things down than to speak out words. They felt heavy on his tongue, had a wrong taste in his mouth.

“Why? What happened? Did you two fight?”

“No… no, we didn’t fight.”

“What is it, then?”

“We… We’re sleeping together.”

Raine stared at her son with wide eyes, her mouth dropping open. He chuckled at her reaction; clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that…

“What? When? How? What?”

“You’ve asked that one twice.”

“Wait, I don’t understand… if you two are finally being intelligent and are together, why do you look so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

She gave him a look that was silently saying ‘I’ve birthed you, do not lie to me’.

He looked away again, tried to ignore the finally part of her question.

“We’re sleeping together. We aren’t together.”

“Oh…”

She seemed disappointed, leaned her back against the counter.

“How long?” she asked, after a heavy and lingering silence.

“A few months.”

“And you’re not dating her?”

“No, we’re not dating.”

“But you’re hanging out with her during the day, and sleeping with her at night.”

“Yeah.”

He struggled to swallow, cheeks turned crimson.

“Why on earth would you want that?”

She was blunt, as usual, but there was so much love in her question. So much worry for her son. Andrew wasn’t fooled, she was direct because she cared too much to circle around the issue.

“I’ve never said that I wanted that,” Andrew admitted in a whisper, feeling tears rise to his eyes, but he blinked them away, clenching his jaw to hold them in check.

“Oh, honey…”

She rubbed his back, her movement soothing. He rolled his eyes.

“Mom, don’t… I’m okay.”

“Casually sleeping with your friend… that’s not a good idea, Andy. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you want. This is your life. And I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what. Still…”

She heaved a sigh, but her son remained silent, and so she went on.

“You are too generous when you love, Andy. Be careful. Take care of yourself. For once, take care of yourself, before you take care of her. Can you do that for me?”

He finally pulled your cup out of the water. Your lipstick was gone, there was only the perfect white of the porcelain left under his thumb.

“Don’t worry about me, mom. I’m okay.”

“I know how you feel for her. This kind of… arrangement… it won’t end well for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I agreed to this. I’m okay with us just being casual, with nothing serious happening between us.”

But one did not fool a mother so easily. She gave him a look that let him know she understood him better than he did himself. And he had no doubt she was right about that.

Still, he put down the cup by the side of the sink to dry, picked up another, and washed the tea away again.

[after-witch]

A Fool’s Game [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: A Fool’s Game [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: It’s the last day of the life you and Chrollo have enjoyed so sweetly for some time now. It’s a shame you don’t even know it’s the last. 

Word count: 2536

Notes: Yandere, toxic relationship, future kidnapping

It’s a shame. A damned shame. A crying shame, really, if he were prone to the weakness of tears in anything but the most drastic of situations. Maybe this will be one of those situations, after all. He’s not sure yet, and dwelling on it will only make it harder for him to confront. 

He bears such a heavy burden, and you don’t even know about it. 

This day… is the last day that he’ll be able to enjoy the sweet, domestic bliss of normalcy with you. 

The last day that you will wake up him with kisses on his cheek, softly crooning his name in a singsong lilt; the last day he will get to see you flit about the apartment kitchen in the brightly colored apron you’d excitedly picked out to wear while you did chores; the last day you’ll love him purely and sweetly as you do now.

Because at the end of the day, you’re going to be abandoning the life you’ve built for yourself and leaving with him.  

He’s held out for as long as possible. Really, he muses, you ought to be grateful that he was able to curate this domestic scene for as long as he did. 

There were a few bumps along the way, but not many. Nothing that wasn’t smoothed over with kisses and smiles and reassuring words.

You always got sad when he had to leave for his “work trips.”. But he kept in touch through phone and even a few gift deliveries that had you gushing when he called in the evening, profusely thanking him for flowers or a meal from your favorite cafe.

But things change. There’s no denying that his latest plan will take him away not just for days or weeks, but months. He can’t bear to be apart from you for that long, and the only solution is painfully clear: it’s time to pop the bubble and move on. And the Phantom Troupe’s schemes, great and small, can’t be paused.  Even for you, sweet creature that you are.

This will hurt. No doubt about that. But, he will recover from it--and in time, he’s sure, so will you. In the meantime, he can admit how awful it will be to see it end. There’s a certain softness that he’s come to enjoy from it all. It’s been like a vacation, some dreamy soft vacation that has given him something irreplaceable.

A taste--however brief and bittersweet--of a quiet life with you.

“Now that that’s done,” you say, softly, mostly to yourself, as you tuck away the last of the dishes--and Chrollo can’t help but think how pointless it was to let you waste time on that chore; it won’t matter, come this evening. “We can get going.” 

You move quickly, like water, depositing your apron on a hook by the stove and slipping on the flower charm necklace you’d laid out on the couch, followed by a soft cardigan in a shade of muted pink. You’re talking all the while, but he’s not listening to the words. Only the sound is important. The ordinary rise and fall of your voice, calm, expectant… 

He watches you quietly from the kitchen table, nursing the last drops of coffee you’d made for him that morning, dutifully poured into what had become his favorite mug at your apartment. The mug was only lukewarm now, and his palms missed the heat. 

“Chrollo?” You spin around. The smile on your face was enough to light up a room. “Did you hear me?”

Chrollo smiles, and shakes his head.

“My apologies, dear. I was too dazzled by your smile to pay attention.”

Your lips quirked into a teasing pout, and you shook your head.

“Well, I was saying, don’t forget to wear good walking shoes, because you know how busy the sale gets. Unless you’d rather stay home while I go alone?” You don’t mean it, but something about the suggestion makes him move. 

He’s off the chair before he even realizes he’s doing it, walking quickly up to you and pressing his chest against your back. He rests his chin on your head, letting his body slow down as the apple sweetness of your favorite shampoo tickles his nostrils.

“You’re awfully snuggly this morning.”

You turn yourself around in his embrace, and rest your head against his shoulders. “Buuut… if we want to make that sale, we need to get going.” You punctuate your words with a teasing poke to his chest, and his lips form the perfunctory frown that you’ve come to expect. The song and dance the two of you have perfected in your time together--argumentative teases, comfortable and snug. 

Soon, the arguments wouldn’t be teasing. There would be no dimpled grins. Only anger and hurt and, he thinks, a healthy dose of fear.

He sticks his hands into the pocket of his trousers as you grab your purse and give your hair one last check-over in the mirror that he’d carefully, on your orders, hung in the entryway. Your keys sat in the blue fishbowl that you’d found during one of your Saturday shopping trips. 

He remembers that day clearly, the way your eyes lit up at the brightness of the blue glass, the way you’d begged him to carry it home for you because-you-know-I’ll-just-drop-it. And once the bowl had been safely deposited on the end table by your door, you’d breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled up to him. He received a kiss for his troubles. 

You have no idea, as you step through your front door and wait for him with keys in hand, that it’s the last time your fingers will ever dip, carefree, into that treasured bowl; that it’s the last time you’ll ever leave the threshold of your apartment… of your own volition, that is.

You poor thing.

--

“Oh! Oh, Chrollo! Look!” Your grin could split your face, if such things were possible, as you point towards the menu hanging in the back of the coffee shop. It’s all handwritten in chalk, probably changes every few days to suit the ever-revolving tastes of the customers. Just the sort of place you love. 

Chrollo merely glances at it, not caring about the finer details of the smeared chalk words. Instead he focuses on you, on every micro-expression. On the way the finger you pointed with is painted a sparkly blue. He’ll have to remember to pack some nail polish in your bag, though you likely won’t feel too concerned about such things for a long time. 

“Mm? And what is it I’m supposed to be seeing, love?”

You sigh, put-out, but not meanly so--you were never mean to him. Never nagging, never cross. Today you settled for a sort of breathless exasperation, like you couldn’t believe he wasn’t seeing it.

“They have lavender coffee. Can you believe it?” You’re practically giddy, almost hopping on one foot. “I can’t wait to taste. You have to try mine, okay? Since I know you’re going to get your usual.” You elbow Chrollo and he tries to match your grin with a smile, but it’s hard going. 

Just a few more hours, that’s all that’s left…

“Ooh!” You stand on your toes, craning your neck as you re-read the menu. “Maybe we should split some pastries, too? Will you eat some if I get them?” Your voice raises higher, no doubt excited over the sticky pastries visible in the case just ahead. 

The man standing in front of you in line looks back for just a moment, and rolls his eyes as he returns his gaze to the front.

His eyes would look lovely on a platter, Chrollo muses. But no. Such things couldn’t happen here, in this carefully preserved moment in life. After the thin glass of this life with you is broken, however, is another thing entirely.

Chrollo watches as you hum and debate over what to get. Your finger taps your chin. An exaggerated  affected gesture, but one that he has come to love about you. 

“Order whatever you like, my dear. My treat today.”

Your eyes light up and you squeak, of all noises. He has to force himself not to sigh in thick indulgence  at the sound. 

And when you reach the cashier, he listens carefully as you rattle off a fairly large order of coffee and pastries. You always wanted to try one of anything new, especially if Chrollo was the one indulging you and you didn’t have to worry about your budget.

It’s fine, normally, but a bit of a hassle now. He has to take mental notes. After all, he’ll have to account for the pastries and caffeine in your stomach for the events that are sure to come later today.

--

“Isn’t the sunset beautiful?”

Chrollo hums, but he’s not looking at the sunset. He’s looking at the way the reddish light of it plays off your hair, your skin, your eyes. He’s looking at you. Every inch, every detail.

There’s a bit of pink frosting stuck to your lips. He should kiss it off before it’s too late. 

For now, you walk home, side by side. The sounds of the city fade away, replaced by the repetitive noise of your neighborhood. Kids playing. A radio, distant. 

And your voice, chattering, about nothing in particular.

“Chrollo?”

He hums again.

“Thank you for taking me out shopping.” You smile, like a sunbeam. “It’s been a while since we had a full day out like this, hasn’t it? It’s a real treat.” 

You laugh, and glance down for just a moment as you smile. 

It’s true. It was a treat. A day together, doing all the things you loved. Shopping and pastries, chatting, indulging. 

You deserved it, after all. And so did he. 

You gently lean against him as you continue to walk, holding onto his arm. He lets you press your body against his. You’re soft and warm. The weight of you is familiar.  Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly silly and you were in a lighthearted enough mood, he carried you home after a day of walking and shopping and treats.

He might have liked to do that today, but you insisted on purchasing some larger items, which you dragged behind you in a rusty wagon. You’d spotted it a few weeks ago near a dumpster and insisted on taking it home for shopping trips. 

“Anything for you, my love,” he says, quietly. More somber than he meant to. 

You glance up at him for just a moment. But you just smile softly.

He uses the moment to pause and lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The frosting is stale and sticky. 

--

Your hand is on your hips, a sure sign of impending doom. 

The shopping bags the both of you had brought in are carefully set on the table. Though, Chrollo thinks, it’s a shame that almost none of what you bought today could come along. It was mostly decorations for the apartment, after all. A new rug, a painting by a local artist, some decorative figurines. Too impractical and delicate to travel with--but maybe you could keep the painting.

You’re not focused on  unpacking the bags, though, which is unusual for you. Instead you’re standing in front of the couch, watching him with a determined look on your face. 

“All right! That’s it, mister. Time to fess up.” 

Chrollo barely has time to raise an eyebrow before you’re climbing onto the couch, straddling him. You smell of perfume and pastries and faintly, of sweat. Outdoor markets always did tire you out.

You hop up onto the couch, facing him on your knees, and place your knees on either side of his hips to get comfortable. Your arms wrap gently around his neck, and your breath is still sweet with sugar and cream. The smell contrasts beautifully with the pout on your lips. 

“You haven’t been yourself all day. Soo… what’s wrong?” The words are sweet and light. 

You noticed. Of course you did. You always noticed the little things about him. 

And here, on the last day of your ordinary life, you were worried about him. How sweet. How kind. How adorable. 

If only he could live forever in this moment. But ah, fate is not so kind to him, is it? It’s best not to dwell on it, especially when there’s so much to be done, and so much to be said. 

For instance, he still has to get the handcuffs out of his duffel bag, just in case you prove too troublesome to leave without a fuss. He still has to mix together the tincture Shalnark gave him, to keep you calm, if you get too hysterical even for the cuffs. 

When he doesn’t answer, the last bit of teasing in your eyes fades away, replaced with a warm, inviting worry. You tuck a stray bit of his hair behind his ears, the ghost of your fingertips tickling his scalp. 

“Chrollo? Is it something serious?” 

You lean back, and your delicate hands move to his chest, playing with the fabric of his shirt while you wait for him to open up to you.

He always does. But this time, it will be the full truth. 

Well--you have always said you wanted to know him. Be careful what you wish for, and all that. 

He sighs, leaning back into the couch. His chin tilts up until he’s staring at the ceiling of your apartment, something you’d fought and scraped for, something you’d proudly decorated with his help. There’s a blurry vision of your head cocking to one side as he thinks--he hates to see that particular tic of yours go, it’s one of his favorites. 

His voice is short and cold and to the point, like the final click of cuffs around your wrists.

“It’s very serious.”

Your back straightens, and he looks away from the ceiling to meet your eyes. Your eyes are wider and worried. Your eyebrows are furrowed. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” Your voice is breathy, soft, anxious. “You can tell me anything, Chrollo. You know I’m here for you.” 

And you are, aren’t you? With your kind expression and your desire to return his own generosity towards you. For every time he helped you through a pinch, you were there to lift him up through his troubles, though they were often shallow and created by his own hand, all ways to bring you closer to him. 

He commits this expression, this moment, to memory. It’s the last time you’ll look so sweetly worried at him, he thinks. For a long time, if not forever. 

He gently grasps one of your hands in his, and you let him, sliding your fingers over his in a familiar gesture. His fingers tighten. He doesn’t want to let go now. 

“We’ll be leaving tonight, my dear. And there’s so much you need to know first.” 

[angelltheninth]

Ok I cannot stop seeing MAWS Slade as a fuckboy, can you please do something with him and a fem!reader I beg! I know I'm down bad but I don't care lmao.

Honestly never thought I'd get an ask like this but since you sent it in Anon and you seem kinda desperate (in a cute way) I'll give this to you.

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, flirting, hook-ups, sex to destress, rough sex, possessive sex, sneaking out, post-mission sex

A/N: I think Slade was always a fuckboy, we just always saw him in his older days. I really wanna know where this version of him goes though.

Fuckboy!Slade who doesn't care what time of day or night it is, when he's horny he will find someone to fuck. He has you on the top of his list of sex friends because you never ask many questions about his missions, you don't need to know the details, all you need is to make sure he feels good when he visits you.

Fuckboy!Slade who never tells you when his next mission is because it's none of your business. You learned not to ask anyways. All that's important when he gets to your place is to fuck him as fast and as hard as possible because neither of you know when his next mission will be.

Fuckboy!Slade who doesn't bother with foreplay. Or rather there's no time for it. The moment he calls you you're already getting ready to receive his cock. Of course this goes both ways and you might get your mouth on his cock at some point during the encounter but it's never in the first round of sex.

Fuckboy!Slade who has a lot of photos of the two of you in his private phone. He loves when people give him attention but only on his own terms. The moment you try to take control away from him while you're fucking is the moment you see why he's one of the most dangerous men in the business. That too has it's advantages, secretly it is your way of taking control, you know exactly how he'll react.

Fuckboy!Slade who will brag about his sexual experience to you while you're bouncing on his cock. He loves to push your buttons and what better way then with a little competition? You need to show him why you're at the top his fucklist. You need to make him come harder then anyone else can.

Fuckboy!Slade who will embrace you, if only for a few minutes a night when you're done. He uses people for pleasure yes but he can be gentle too... when the sex was good that is. He never talks about this side of him and neither do you. In the grand scheme of things a few minutes of aftercare and making sure you're okay won't change much between the two of you.

Fuckboy!Slade who fucks you like he is the only one for you every single time. When he leaves he wants you to remember his cock well. Every time you put a toy or your fingers up your pussy he wants to be sure that it's his cock you're imagining fucking you. You have no idea if he's only like this with you or not but it is something that you've noticed about him,

Fuckboy!Slade who only speaks a few words to you when he's leaving. He tells you that it was fun, he tells you what he liked, he tells you that you were sexy, but he never mentions anything related to his actual feelings or yours. To let feelings into this would be the moment his entire persona falls apart and he cannot afford that right now, not with the kinds of things he does.

[writersblockedx]

Criminals and Crows

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader Summary - For the Crow's next job, they're in need of a pirate; Kaz tracks down you. But despite being the man to hire you, he's having a hard time trusting you. Warnings - mentions of violence, alcohol, sickness, I have no idea how ships work but I did my best at writing it. Words - 3.1K

Masterlist

There weren't many people Kaz Brekker trusted. In fact, when he thought on it, there was about zero people in which he trusted. Everyone he strung into his heists were a risk. He just made logical, pragmatic decisions on choosing who posed least threat. For awhile, that had consisted of Jesper and Inej. But with their newest heist, they were going to need a little more manpower than just the trio. More importantly, they were going to need a ship and a captain. In short, Kaz was going to need a pirate.

Through searching all of Ketterdamn, he located the least risk. Though, still a great risk: You.

Living in Ketterdamn meant you knew all about Kaz Brekker. And quite honestly, the stories told of him made sure you stayed away from his schemes and his need to fill his pockets with kruge. But he certainly knew how to make a deal.

"200 kruge." He had offered.

You looked at him through narrow eyes. In the midst of the Crow Club (something you too had consciously steered away from), you sat across from the man. The black sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his brows menacing as he slicked his hair back from his face. He was leaning as far back in his chair as he could, not making a move other than his lips. But you moved forward. Your elbows hit the woods of the table which was situated between the two of you. "You've told me nothing. I can't agree to anything yet." You scoffed at the way the man was playing this.

His eyes gave a glare but you doubted he didn't ever drop such glare. "You'll get more information when I know you're on board with this." He planned.

"I don't even know how far I'm taking you."

"As far as 200 kruge is worth." He said before standing abruptly, taking his cane back into his hold. But he didn't turn. Not right away. His glare burned down onto you as you stared up at him, trying to work out the thoughts which were stringing together in his mind. "I need an answer by dawn." With that, he left.

You stayed glued to that table in the Crow Club for the remainder of the night. Nursing a pint of ale, running through what was to gain by working with Kaz Brekker. And honestly, the decision to turn up the next day had come from a feeling of curiosity rather than searching for the need for another job. You had enough contenders when it came looking for kruge - but this was drowning in enigma, reeling you in like a fish a hook and you couldn't seem to resist.

Within six hours, as dawn hit and the sun danced in the sky once again, the Crow Club was nowhere near as busy. In fact, it was empty. Well, apart from the three figures that were crowded around a small table, papers littered between them. For a moment, you watched from afar, wondering if you might be able to catch word of their schemes. But you had failed. It didn't take long, just a footstep too loud for Inej to snap around. Her eyes gazed over you, narrow just like the way you looked to Kaz the night before; trying to figure you out.

Her head lifted as the two boys turned their heads to look at her. No one said anything at first but the air seemed filled with unspoken words. Then Kaz dragged himself up to his feet, "You came." He observed.

You didn't reply straight away. Instead, you took the next step down, continuing your walk across to where the trio were crowded. And you didn't say anything until your feet stopped, right in front of them. "A job's a job," You paused, jolting your gaze to Inej and Jesper. "Right?"

Kaz was watching you with careful eyes like he was watching a predator; one of which was unpredictable. And when you wandered around the table, passing Inej and Jesper, he didn't stop you. Your eyes danced between the papers, head tilted as you attempted to connect the dots in front of you. No one stopped you. So you reached your hand out, grasping one of them which provided you with the most information. "Erm," Called Jesper as he watched you. "Is she allowed to look at them?" He gazed back at his boss who gave no indication of not, so you continued.

You found yourself picking up a map with a red circle drawn around a certain town, "Caryeva?" You read the town out. And then you looked up, meeting directly with the eyes of Kaz Brekker. "That's where you want to go. Why?"

"It doesn't matter why, your job is to get us there." The man argued.

A huff fell from your lips as you dropped the paper back to the table, "You said I'd get more information when I was on board with this." You recalled.

Kaz gestured his hand to the paper you had just dropped, "That was your information." He said. "And from what I've heard, you don't quite possess much of a moral standing so I doubt it would matter if we told you our intentions or not." He went on - something of which you couldn't argue against. So, instead, you kept quiet. He took a step forward, facing you between the table with Inej and Jesper still lazily sat, looking up at the two like a fight was about to break out. Kaz reached for his pocket, pulling out a sachel. A heavy sachel which clanked against the wood of the table when it dropped. "That's 100. You'll get the rest when the job is done and you're still alive."

You didn't need to say anything; your glare did it all. But Kaz turned his back with that, walking away as you watched. And for a long moment, you stood there, gazing between the sachel and the empty space where Kaz had been standing. Both Inej and Jesper were awaiting what decision you made. They didn't quite care if they were honest. They needed a captain (and the ship that came with them), but that didn't exactly mean they needed you. But alas, your hand reached out, taking the kruger and leaving the Crow Club to await further instructions.

Kaz had planned to leave that night; dark and cloudy where their dark shadows couldn't be caught heading towards the docks where you were waiting. And their friendly welcome was no different. They each wore straight lines for smiles and held their hands like they were shaking to reach for a weapon.

"We all ready?" Kaz asked as he came right to the ship where you lingered in front of.

You glanced to Jesper and Inej who were holding boxes of Saints knows what, "All ready for Caryeva. For whatever it is you need to do that you won't tell me." It was a jab that hadn't all that much bothered any of them. They would much rather keep quiet than risk having their plans leaked by a captain who couldn't keep their mouths shut. But you took a step to the side, gesturing your hand for them to step on. "All aboard." You said through a dull tone as Kaz stepped on first, his cane hitting the wood of the ship with a thud. Inej followed and then Jesper who provided a salute - the only significant sign of a welcome you had gathered so far.

The trio were very much not used to ships, to sea, to the rocking and turning. When you got onto the boat yourself, you found that a glimpse of the trio was comparable to a bunny on a battle field. This wasn't their territory and it was so very obvious. "Sleeping quarters are down there," You pointed to the left where a hatch in the floor led to the rooms underground. "Front of the ship, Captain's quarters, my quarters, are here." With that, you gestured to the front of the boat where a door led to the wheel of the ship, the driver, the navigator, the captain.

The ship wasn't a huge one that was certain, but it would get this job done. Whatever that job was of course. They dropped their boxes and you unhooked the ropes which kept the ship tied to the dock. You weren't brought away from such task until a voice spoke up, "And where exactly would one be able to find the liquor on this ship?" You turned, finding Jesper wandering a few steps towards you, eyes bright and hungry for the drink he seemed in need of. "That is, assuming there is any, of course."

You looked down over at the man, the rope hanging from your grip, "That would be in the captain's quarter." You informed.

"Jesper," Came another voice, almost like a warning. "Aren't you going to be a bit busy?" Inej was pointing to the box the boy had just dropped. There was a glint in her eye, irritated in a sense, matching the warning which had littered her tone.

But Jesper didn't seem all that bothered by the girl's words. In fact, he shrugged, already walking towards the captain's quarters. "We've got time." He concluded. "Have one drink with me, please!"

Inej sighed, dropped her box, joining the boy as they slipped into the captain's quarters. Like that, your focus was drawn back to the ropes, unhooking them all before returning to the main deck where Kaz was already watching you. "Is that okay?" He asked.

You looked to him, brow raised, "What?"

His head nodded to the room across from you, where Jesper and Inej had just entered. "Jesper and Inej." He answered.

"Oh, yeah, fine." A smile graced your lips as to offer more assurance in that. "Might loosen their lips a little, find out what you crows are up to." It was a joke but Kaz wasn't laughing. However, your words had seemed to break that stern expression which seemed stuck to his face.

"Well, I guess I won't be drinking your pirate liquor then." He said; his voice so low it had almost been a whisper, his breath brushing against your skin.

And you returned the favour as you spoke in the same whisper, "You don't know what you're missing out on." Your smile twisted into a smirk. One which clung to playfulness and bathed in mischief. And Kaz seemed utterly entranced by such, his gaze seeming to lock onto your eyes like he was holding onto your hand as he hung over a cliff.

You started walking back, going to join the two crows in the captain's quarters. Your head flipped back around when you came to note Kaz wasn't trailing behind. "You're not gonna stay out here by yourself, are you?" With one brow raised, it seemed to convince him.

The room was centred around the wheel which looked out the front of the ship. Maps were scattered everywhere, on counters which lined the walls and the main map table which was situated behind the steering wheel. The room was lit by one hanging light which was known to swing dependent on the steadiness of the tide. And as Jesper had so effortlessly got his fingers on: the liquor cabinet. Filled with fine wines and ales you had collected over your years of travelling. All of which was now being poured into the cup of a crow.

Jesper fell into the Captain's chair, swinging his legs up onto the map table as if he were at home. A sigh left his lips, "You know, maybe sea travel isn't all that bad." He observed, letting his eyes flutter close.

"That's because we haven't started moving yet." You explained, shoving his legs from the table with a gentle push while making your way behind the wheel. "Hope none of you get sea sick." And with that, you manoeuvred the boat as well as possible for a captain with no crew.

Inej took a seat across from Jesper. And, unlike he, she didn't swing her legs on top of the map table like it were a footrest. "Yeah, I don't really think drinking is gonna help with the sea sickness." She critiqued.

Jesper shrugged, the cup hovering right by his lips. "The consequences of my own actions." Like that, like it was such a spilt second matter, he took a long hard swig of the liquor. It seemed everyone but Jesper could see how this was going to end.

An hour or so had passed and you swore the boy was turning green. But he pushed through his facade, trying to keep it up until he physically couldn't. His body was swaying against the tide and he hadn't dared take any more drink from the cup. When he went to stand, it was abrupt and because of such, he had so easily almost fallen flat on his face "Woah!" He sung as Inej's hands trapped onto his shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady.

"I told you." The girl seethed, forced to keep him upright. Then she turned to you, "Where's the sleeping quarters?"

You nodded from behind the wheel, "Across the main deck, down on the bottom." And like that, the two were whisked away, leaving Kaz and yourself to your devices.

It was suddenly deathly silent. The sound of Jesper uneasy groans that once echoed the room were now absent. Instead, it was the silent tension that resided between the two of you. You had caught a glance of the man, watching as he ached over the papers in front of him. You couldn't work out if the boy was stressed or if this was his natural position. To combat the silence, you gambled your safety in speaking up, "You okay?" Surely that could do no harm.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

A huff fell from his lips as he shot the paper from his hands, "Because of Jesper's choice to get black-out drunk, it's left me to do what he was meant to." He explained, irritation dripping from his tongue.

You watched him through narrowed eyes. Just like the first time; trying to figure him out. And when you gambled your safety more, you dared to draw closer to him. "I could always help." You offered as his eyes finally fell to your figure. "Unless, of course, you don't trust me for anything other than getting you there and back."

A long moment passed. One in which you could tell Kaz was weighing up his options, working out whether this was a safe option. When the moment passed, he shoved a small wooden box across to you. "We need at least five grenades."

You tried your best to not look shocked, but you had failed in doing such. "Grenades?" You reiterated, peeking inside the box which was waiting in front of you.

Kaz looked to you, a glint in his eyes that you couldn't quite work out. "Who did you think you were working with?" Suppose he made a good point.

You glanced back at the box. Then you took one glimpse of Kaz, still bent over those papers and this planning which needed perfecting by the time they made it to the docks. With that, your hand reached in, taking the parts of the weapon which need constructing. Without a word, you did it, moulding the parts together to create some deathly weapon you had no idea were being used for. After the second one was finished, your curiosity was killing you. You checked Kaz first, checking it was safe to push this very distinct line he had drawn. But you decided to push to it. "What are the grenades for?"

He stopped. His whole body seemed to pause before he gazed over at you. "What are they usually used for?" There was still a snap in his tone but you assumed it was rare it ever left the tip of his tongue. But you took that as your answer and dipped your head back to the task at hand. Kaz had watched you. And when you came back with no quipped reply, he knew he should probably say something. And as a long moment passed and you started to accept that Kaz Brekker's friendship was not something you were about to gain, he broke the silence. "They're gonna be a distraction." He informed.

You looked up, finding his eyes already trailing you. With one brow quirked, you said, "So you're not killing people then?" You queried.

Kaz's head shook, "No. Though, I can't promise that Inej won't stab someone in the wrong place."

You dropped the equipment back in the box, letting your palms grip against the table as you stared over at the man. "And who are you distracting?" By the change in his expression, it looked as if he were hesitant. "Look, I've come this far, you may as well tell me. Even if I wanted to betray your stupid plan, three against one? I'm not that stupid."

Those words seemed to prompt something. Kaz stood from his chair, wandering around the table until he came only inches from you. "Someone stole from me." He finally informed.

"And you're going after them?" You questioned. "What'd they steal? A few knives? Some ale?"

"Doesn't matter what they stole." He told you. "You have to make an example of people."

Your head tilted, finding that this was the closest to the man you had ever been. And for some reason, that fact had erupted a swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Ever so close that if something were to-

The tide shifted the ship. Just a wave. But a wave which was hard enough to shift your feet as you tumbled forward. In a moment, Kaz had a hand around you and you had a hand steady on his chest. The wave passed and you steadied yourself. But neither of you dropped your touch. Instead, your eyes slowly dragged to meet his gaze which was already situated on you. And like something was washing over you, a gut instinct, you leaned in. You leaned right into his lips as they met. Such a sweet, soft kiss which had seemed to encompass the tension which had only been building since you first laid eyes on Kaz Brekker.

[kaciidubs]

Decorating Mishaps | 8 Days of SKZcember

Prompt: "there is tinsel. everywhere." [laughing] "i think you got more of it on yourself than the tree"

❣ Summary: Later is better than never, at the sacrifice of your shared sanity. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1k ❣ Warnings: Fluff, slight humor, Minho and Reader are the epitome of last minute, Doongie and Dori are adorable menaces ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Minho is referred to as Min, Honey, Reader is referred to as Kitten, unedited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ SKZcember 2023

Putting up the Christmas tree two days before Christmas could’ve been seen as either the greatest test of mental fortitude, or the richest example of what procrastination and busy schedules leads to.

You genuinely hoped it was the former as you fluffed out the bare branches of your tree, breaking a light sweat as you tried working as quickly and efficiently as possible with the artificial branches that seemed to prefer sticking with their clump than fanning out like a normal branch would.

“Gold and black? Blue and silver?”

“We did both of those already, Min,” you sighed softly, wincing as a branch stuck your finger, “maybe we can switch up the colors? Make new pairings?”

“White and your fake gold?”

“Rose gold.”

“I see no difference.”

Dropping your hands from the tree, you turned to him with a pout set on your lips, “Minho! I’m serious, we need to figure something out or else we’re going to be opening presents under an empty tree.”

“I don’t see a problem with that - it’s less for the babies to get into.” Even if his expression was as firm as a stone, you could tell from the glint in his eye that he didn’t truly mean what he said - even if Soonie, Doongie, and Dori managed to sneak their way near the tree, it never stopped you both from putting it up and decorating every year.

This year, however, the tree remained tucked away in the spare room of your apartment, waiting patiently for the weekend you both promised you’d take the time to put it up. Eventually, the weekend passed by a day due to an unexpected schedule for Minho, then another day due to you staying late at work, and another, and another, until the 23rd day of December came rolling around and your promises of “doing it later” turned into “oh god, the tree”.

Minho rummaged through the storage bin of decorations, moving around pouches of bulbs until he pulled out two, “Red and gold?”

Pursing your lips, you glanced at the two organized pouches before looking at the tree, attempting to visualize the potential decoration scheme using the two colors; warm and traditional, simple yet extravagant. “Do we have-”

“-a matching tree skirt, extra decorations, and a star? Yes.”

“Let’s do it.”

You both would soon find out that picking the decorations was the least of your concerns - the real battle coming from putting them on the tree in the most effective, yet fastest way possible.

“That’s too much red on that side, Kitten.”

“Min, it only looks like that because you haven’t come around to add in the gold!”

“Because I’ve been moving around your ornaments to-”

“Soonie, no, no, stay away from the ornament bin, it’s not meant for you!” Blindly hooking the red ornament in your hand, you abandoned your side of the tree to scoop the orange and white cat away from the plastic bin. “You know it’s Christmas, bubby, that bin hasn’t changed.”

Minho huffed out a tired chuckle, “He knows what he likes.”

“Yeah, well,” placing a kiss to the top of his furry head, you set him down on the couch, “he needs to like staying away from the decor.” Just as you were about to get back to your bulb duty, a flicker of movement caught your eye, followed by the growing sound of rustling. “Min?”

Catching the noise as soon as you did, he turned around to see Doongie and Dori blatantly enjoying themselves in a pile of tinsel that he planned on stuffing within the empty space of the tree.

“Doongie! Dori! Get out of the tinsel!”

You watched as he rushed toward the cats, bending down to gather the decoration away from them, though they refused to let go without a fight; seeing it as a game of “latch onto the sparkly tassels” while Minho tried his best to get the tinsel into his arms.

“I didn’t raise you two like this, what are you doing? Ah- Stop trying- Stop grabbing it! Doongie- Dori!”

In the process, the two cats managed to tear some of the tinsel from the line, spreading it in small shreds along the floor while the rest stuck itself to his shirt with no intention of falling off.

Your hysterical laughter filled the living room as you watched the struggle between father and children, letting the madness go on for a bit longer until you decided to save your usually composed boyfriend; slipping into the kitchen and returning with a cat snack packet. The minute you crinkled the foil before tearing open the pouch, Doongie and Dori paused before flocking to you, noses high in the air with innocent meows following suit.

“You two are such menaces, you know that?” You cooed softly, pushing the chicken based snack up to the opening, “I thought you’d at least let us finish putting the bulbs up before you got needy.”

Doongie simply regarded you with a soft meow, Dori getting his share of the treat before baking down to lick away whenever he missed around his own mouth.

Glancing up, your breath caught in a barely contained laugh as Minho stood in the aftermath of the battle.

“There’s tinsel… everywhere.” And he was right, shreds of the foiled ribbon stuck from the bottom of his shirt, down - the carpet not faring any better with shavings shining around, while what remained of the attacked portion dangled lifelessly from his arms.

“Oh, honey… There’s more of it on you than there is on the tree, that’s for sure.” Shooting him a sympathetic smile, though you couldn't stop the giggles bubbling past your lips, you nodded your head toward the cats still sharing the small snack in front of you, “We can finish putting everything on the tree, then I’ll help you clean up, okay?”

Nodding slowly, Minho walked toward the decoration bin and unceremoniously dumped the rest of the tinsel in the container, “No more tinsel for decorating - never again.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hello I know you just wrote for D.M. but can I request ❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜ with D.M. too? Maybe the reader is his ex gf who left him cos she realized that he was a red flag

Thank you and sorry if my English isn't that good! Have a nice day/night!

Your english is fine no worries! Hope you enjoy this i based is lot on Sherlock Holmes lol

Rated Mature (to be safe) | Warning: possessive behavior, kidnapping, reader is done lol

Send a line

The end of engagements is not uncommon, it is something that happens in the search for the soul mate. It will hurt, it will take time. Yet telling the bastard D.M. to acknowledge you are no longer accessible to him or how the engagement ring is returned to him with a letter telling in long-winded words you no longer want to see him.

Well, he is delusional at first believing you simply needed space. You need to reflect and realize how good you have it with him. He gave you a week. Then another week, he was busy. Then another week due to once again, he after all, masterfully artfully creating schemes. When a month passed, he sent you a letter. There was no reply, in fact, the letter he sent was returned to him.

You moved. You moved. You moved.

Désire Mélodis never had someone leave him. He has broken many hearts of both genders, but when he read your letter— Actually read it, he saw the seriousness of your words. You rejected him, you gave up on a comfortable life with him… Are you stupid!?

The man’s rage is cold, he simply burned your letter before going to the desk where he has a poster of you from your performance here long before he approached you.

How ungrateful are you? The nonsense you wrote him is just that: Nonsense! The lord professor is the most desirable man you will ever meet! To have caught his eye means you should be grateful! Along with feeling special. He scoffs before laughing hysterically.

“Mon amour,” His finger tracing the jaw of your picture, “Enjoy your time away from your cage.” A dastardly smirk on his face, “For once I find you: I will clip your wings.”

You should have known sooner or later your former love would come back in a blaze of glory. All you could do is just prepare for that, mentally. You sigh the second you see Lady Truth, Mr. Inference, and Mr. White entered the theater and sat in the back. Oh, lovely.

Not even the first bloody act the stage is on fire and there is a villain who shows up by crashing from the ceiling. 

You are not even going to try to figure out how the man survived falling from that height to the stage.

There in the spotlight, there you stand wearing red, there the most dramatic moment happens before your eyes.

“You crazy son of a bitch!”

Is he serious? Is he serious about showing up like this?! In a dashing white suit with a top hair and cape, he appears, the curtain falls behind you, and he snatches you as if you magically weigh nothing. What madness! Wait, the man is too tall, and the long claws are not D.M.’s style.

“Tuberose put me down right now— Aaaaaa!!” Screaming as the terrifyingly tall man steals you away as the fire starts to consume the stage. Pointing at the place where he fell from, he points and launches the hook before sending you both flying through the air. The hook to pulling you both out of the theater.

“Please stop kicking me.” Once on the rooftop, he tosses you over his shoulder.

“Maybe I will stop kicking if you put me down!” You are beyond pissed. Honestly, you know D.M. is dramatic but burning down the opera theater, dramatic speech by his assistant, and what the hell is this get-up he put on Tuberose? “This suit is ugly by the way!”

“His request.”

You roll your eyes as you are forced to endure being chased after from rooftop to rooftop. “If you turn left at the next street you can lose them in the alley.”

“Thank you.”

“Uh-huh.” Bored. This is honestly why you ended the engagement! The drama was ridiculous, not to mention how you felt like you were competing for your ex-fiance's attention. “How is he?”

“Colder.”

“I see… I missed you guys.”

The assistant, you know you do not if Tuberose is an assistant, puts you down when close is clear.

“Are you going to change?” Watching him undress, “Oh your hair is messy.” As he changes, you fix his hair. “There.” Smiling then pouting when he puts on his fedora. He gives you his shawl to keep you warm given what you are wearing is a red costume for your part.

“Welcome home, mon petit gâteau.” Open arms as you are brought to his manor. His smile is fake, the foyer looks nice still, oh, you noticed a new maid.

“Hm,” Looking around. Nothing changed. Guess you shouldn't be surprised, you only left two or three months ago.

It took a bit of walking to the rendezvous point where Gatto sat in the automotive waiting. The drive was unbearable, you only compiled because you care for the safety of these two over your own.

Plus, D.M. would never hurt you… You hope.

“Sir, I know you understand this is kidnapping.” Crossing your arms after giving back Tuberose his shawl before that adds to this long overdue argument. “What were you thinking doing that!? Couldn't you have waited until I was home!?”

“Dear, you were merely a distraction to my true objective.”

“Ah, using me again. You never change.” Throwing your hands up in the air, “Did you at least have something made before stealing me away?”

“Dinner is prepared for us, my love. Your favorites.” Bowing as if so pleased with himself because he is, he thought of everything.

“And this is going to be civil?”

“As civil as you remain.”

And so you take his hand as he leads to the prepared dining room, alone. Alone with him.

Into the belly of the beast moment.

“Same chef?” You finished dinner, now having a shared dessert with D.M. beside you. It has been civil, a few quips or sarcastic remarks, for the most nothing argumentative. Yet.

“You said you like the way she makes the velvet cake.”

“And I told you she needed to be given time off to see her son.” Eating a spoonful of cake, “Did you?”

“Of course.” His foot rubs against your calf under the table.

“Désire.”

“I have missed you a great deal.” The lord's free hand touching yours, “We could have talked about this.”

“There was nothing to talk about, Désire.” Slipping your hand away to take a sip of the wine you have been nursing throughout dinner. Must be from his personal collection. “You have your pursues, I have my wants.” Speaking with some liquid courage in you.

“And your wants are for me to fulfill, (Name). Anything you desire and I can grant you it.”

“Do you love me?” Serious as you put the spoon down and lean on the table.

“Of course.”

“You say that but not once did you say it!” Annoyed, “I had to hope you loved me. But it seemed you loved playing games with those detectives over our relationship!”

Then you started yelling, tears ruining your simple stage makeup. God, doing this with a costume on makes this so ridiculous!

The former key to your heart is prepared, you know for he is sounding a lot calmer than you are as emotions flare out. The lord professor, son of a bitch, always so perfect; the Creme De La Creme of society, when your engagement ended— When you ended it, they blamed you. Because Désire Mélodis could do no wrong!

“(Name),” When he stands, you turn in your seat about to follow to stand your ground but when he goes on one knee, reaching into his pocket to pull out the ring, the engagement ring you sent back to him, you stop. “You're mine.” Sometimes it frightens you how sure he sounds. How can this man say without a shadow of a doubt that you are his? “You've always been mine.” The pain of that truth is you have yet to look for another. Oh, and there are suitors who have tried to do the song and dance, none have swept you off your feet like this bastard has.

“You can’t own me.” The wine hits you, “You don’t own me.” He chuckles at those words for it is the last thing you say before he kisses you. The sort of kiss he would give when you are mad at him, the sort that makes you dizzy and cling to his jacket pulling him closer. His finger outlines your jaw down to your throat, his lips leave yours as much as would enjoy staying there…

He is sweet, the sweet that makes you cry more, his arms the safest place you have ever been, and you let him slip the ring back to its rightful place.

The gentleman that he is, painfully at times, he does not take you on the dining table though you hint for him to do it. Instead, he takes you to the guest room (prepared beforehand) to sleep off the wine you drank (he knew to give you more than himself, snake).

In the morning, you will be upset. The lord likes that fire about you, keeps him entertained.

[divinekangaroo]

Read one analysis, and im confused. Is Lizzie to be blamed for Graces death? Is she to be blamed for Tommy sleeping with her soon after?

Lizzie x Angel can be considered the precipitating event, but Lizzie had zero influence or control on the long decision tree which followed which led more directly to Grace's death.

Based on the attribution analysis we frequently apply to, for example, working backwards from deaths at our workplace to determine points to target for change, for example,

If the Shelbys ignored L x A (took no action), would Vicente have hired an assassin to shoot Tommy and accidentally hit Grace? No.

If L x A hadn't happened, would Vicente have hired an assassin to shoot Tommy and accidentally hit Grace? No.

And because both of these if/then scenarios immediately before and immediately after what is seen as the 'precipitating event' result in a "no the death would not have happened", the analysis re attribution actually commences at this first step:

What was the first decision 'fork in the road' after this apparent precipitating event (of LxA hook up) which started the path down towards Grace being shot? (because it's actually this first decision that starts the cascade, NOT the 'precipitating event'. Remember: if the precipitating event is ignored, the death does not happen. It's the response to the precipitating event which actually starts the cascade towards the death.)

In my mind it was John (and maybe Arthur) deciding to take the path of violence and firebomb Angel's restaurant. Note: they had not even spoken to Lizzie at that point. She only found out there was an issue with Angel at the wedding!

At every point along the decision tree, John (and Arthur) made the choice to apply more violence. Vicente then chose to respond by matching their violence. John (and Arthur) then stepped up the violence another notch. Vicente then matched that higher violence. All the way to Angel being murdered, so Vicente hired an assassin.

That said, there *were* other contributing factors influencing the overall context, which may have led to influencing John (and Arthur and Vicente) to believe violence was the only possible decision at each decision point:

-Tommy has no tolerance for unrest, likely part pressures of both his rapid territory expansion + the deadly Russian scheme, and when everyone is part-way down this path of violence, gives a speech to his family where he makes it clear things have gone too far for apology, and outlines force/violence as necessary because he cannot have anyone stepping out of line right now. It is unclear in my memory if Tommy ever expressly told John/Arthur to kill Angel, but whether or not he did, this speech alone set a frame in John for further violent response as the appropriate action.

-Churchill keeps Tommy so busy/stressed out of his mind with seriously high risk, life threatening illegal activities such that Tommy couldn’t pay attention to brewing turf wars/friction, enabling a space where John escalated matters without Tommy's oversight (and what was Arthur doing? why didn't Polly know? Why did John and Arthur act without consulting Polly? So even with Tommy's distraction, what was John and Arthur doing to not establish this was appropriate?)

-Hughes keeps Tommy from actually attending the Vicente 'truce' meeting, leaving a space where John and Arthur go to town with humiliation and mockery. Tommy would *not* have approached this meeting this way; he is particularly businesslike even with his enemies, and even when he does mock (eg the IRA 'Chosen One' scene) it's more sardonic and contextual and not as...personally, racially, weirdly childishly targetted in the way John and Arthur did

-Something shifty *is* going on with Angel. He is a shifty dude. I have a detailed theory but it's a tangent to this point.

-Vicente is well aware of the humiliation/destruction of Sabini and highly sensitised to being treated in the same way. There's also a range of ethnic and racist factors in here too which further sensitise Vicente to not take it (Sabini says swallow, I say spit)

-(and you can go further back to frame their daily lives and also the war as a contextual contributing factor: these boys are all primed for violence being seen 'as the answer' because frequently, it was the answer. And in fact was integral to several of their successes, too.)

Then we go all the way down the other end of the decision tree and ask:

2. What was the final decision "fork in the road" just prior to Grace's shooting which resulted in Grace being shot?

For me, this was (offscreen!) Vicente hiring an assassin BUT SPECIFICALLY deciding the best place to assassinate Tommy was at a public charity event *held* by Tommy. One reason might have been access, but we also have to consider the way Vicente was at the point of really wanting to destroy Tommy by now. Assassinating a gangster like Tommy publically at a major 'stepping into' legitimate society milestone would have destroyed the Shelby family name in so many spheres, both criminal and society. It would have left the family after Tommy's death battling to hold their territories and without ability to leverage Tommy's financial legacy all that well. Ultimately it was a decision for maximum humiliation of Tommy Shelby and hurt of the Shelbys, to kill Tommy at his 'triumph' moment, instead of sniping him, ambushing him in his car, doing it in an alley or at his house. But because this decision of public assassination venue was made, this meant Grace (and many other people!) was present and at risk of being shot by accident, which is what happened.

.

I also think a little on motive: between Angel, John, Vicente, Tommy, Arthur, Lizzie is the only one in the 'people involved' chain leading to Grace's death who did not have ‘violence or harmful intent to others’ in her motivation. She never influenced or directed steps towards violence, whereas all the others did. If you apply a 'violence begets violence' / 'eye for an eye' approach it wasn't Lizzie's fault either, she never turned it towards violence diretcly or indirectly, that was all with John (& Arthur) and Vicente, with framing from Tommy influencing John.

Or you could consider a legal culpability angle too, if you like: Vicente and the assassin are culpable for Grace's murder. John (maybe Arthur) are culpable for Angel's murder. John and Arthur are culpable for property damage, arson and assault (causing permanent blinding). Angel *might* be culpable for fraud (false identities/false representations) but given there were no direct or consequential flow-on damages (financial or otherwise) from his fraud it's hard to say (and he's dead anyway!). But what did Lizzie do? Date a guy - who probably approached her, given the mores of the day - and invite him to a wedding? There's no legal culpability there.

It just really gets to whether you believe the precipitating event (Lizzie hooking up with Angel) is the sole source of blame or whether it was the - call it at least - eight decision points along the chain, mostly in John (and Arthur) and Vicente's control, where each time the decision was taken to *increase* the violence to the point of murder and retribution. Based on having to work with lawyers and specialists unfortunately frequently to analyse deaths on sites and work out how they could have been avoided, it is often misapplied to blame the 'precipitating event' which appears the obvious problem - as above, it is frequently the first decision in response to an otherwise *ordinary* and low/no risk precipitating event, and the subsequent cascade, where the failures that lead to the death occur.

.

I have seen a reading that Lizzie got with Angel just to get back at Tommy, but...really? She is so invested in the Shelbys; there is no hint or undercurrent that she was intending to betray Tommy's business information. Even if she knew who Angel was, so what? He didn't fit in the definition of "foreigner" - he was born in England! And, let's not forget, no one told her that Angel was a risk to the business until after the restaurant was firebombed and Lizzie was at the wedding wondering where the hell her boyfriend was. John could have told Lizzie before choosing violence to break it off with Angel, and she probably would have, such is her investment in the Shelbys.

I do think Lizzie was primed to fall for/be vulnerable to someone like Angel, following her humiliation at Epsom where Tommy 1) did not acknowledge her faltering expression of love/care, 2) asked her to play the prostitute, 3) set her up for assault/rape and 4) probably came into work within the week after this happened to Lizzie and announced he was getting married and had a kid on the way. Imagine her looking for someone with the same kind of 'air' as Tommy (danger/intelligence/power) in order to clear out her head of any remaining longing for Tommy. But I certainly don't think she ever thought her association with Angel would *hurt* Tommy or the business in any way - Lizzie was just trying to move on.

Depending on how you consider the hints about Angel, he could have been deliberately honey-trapping Lizzie to spy on Tommy, but I don't think she was aware of this at that S3-E1 point (and again -- John and Arthur didn't tell her anything before they destroyed the restaurant!)

[I do like to consider how symbolic both Grace and Angel's names are, though: how Angel being murdered leads to Grace being murdered. There is no salvation for this family is there. And, the symbolic parallel in their names and deaths made me wonder if there is also that symbolic in their roles: Grace was initially a honeytrap for Tommy, so...was Angel a honeytrap for Lizzie? But that's drifting from the point of your question sorry...]

---

Ah, Tommy and sex again. So I’m always intrigued at takes that make Tommy (who has ALL the power) deciding to sleep with Lizzie somehow Lizzie’s fault?

They made it clear in the show TxL only have sex ‘when Tommy wants’. How she says it makes it clear he’s not doing it out of want for her…sex for him appears to be some kind of release/anxiety thing too, like having sex is a momentary way to feel better, even if briefly.

And really, I do think about the power imbalance: Lizzie’s job/money and personal dignity is now dependent on Tommy being able to hold his shit together and keep doing what he does. She *could* say no to him, but why would she? She is infatuated/in love with him, she’s financially dependent on him, her social status is dependent on him, and she does also *care* for him as a person and very much probably a friend. She’d know better than anyone how Tommy uses sex as that kind of anti-anxiety release. She would accommodate his needs no matter her own hurt at doing so, in the hope he hurts less / hurts himself less, which is a pattern she demonstrates again and again.

So if they have sex ‘too soon’ after Grace dies, well, it’s probably Tommy’s fault as the initiator and the holder of power, and only minorly Lizzie's fault for not saying no (dear god when can we stop blaming women for not saying no), but really, why is there any fault to consider at all? Grace is dead, there’s no infidelity or broken promise — and remember the sheer pressure Tommy is under in S3. And we're upset the guy has uncomplicated 'take me out of my head for a moment please' sex with a once lover/prostitute for a bit of relief? Such a terrible judgement to apply to him (and Lizzie) for someting that doesn't matter and which is effectively consensual and hurts no one else, given all the other actually bad things Tommy does that would merit such judgement.

IDEK man. By the time T x L are having sex again, Lizzie is also much more aware of how delicate the whole Russian situation is than she was at start of S3; any desire she might have to say no out of personal dignity/pride probably dissolves when she realises she might be one of the few slender threads Tommy’s got to actually get some uncomplicated relief/release from the disaster of, and immense grief and threat of, S3, and maybe stay a little sane for her being able to give him that brief human comfort and care. I mean, he could be going to prostitutes for anxiety release, but given the issues with possible leaks/risks, as well as the way he actually needs care and comfort in his grief not just release, I just. Yeah.

Why are we blaming Lizzie again? I've confused myself lol. She can't be blamed for the S3 sex Tommy has with her. (- edits to add: on the point of 'so soon after grace's death', Tommy's also under massive time pressure. He knows he has to sleep with Tatiana very soon to make his whole ploy successful and keep the wheels in motion; take this 'headcanon' however you will, but I like to imagine he didn't want the first time he had sex after Grace to be with the mad Russian duchess who actually propositioned him for sex on the night Grace died in his arms....I mean, really, what would have been better, Tommy being disaster-fucked by Tatiana first and maybe having a worse breakdown than he did have (that little one in his study), or Tommy having off-screen comfort sex with Lizzie and being able to just keep on keeping on...?)

[nashusglasses]

it's always a surprise when the tide comes in

note: this is a writing exercise for exposition. I hate hate HATEEEEE writing it!! it makes my skin crawl i just want everything to happen at once!!!! -_- anywho. this story is the background story of this drabble

i love the idea of gojo in an office setting bc he’s already so silly like that would be a 10 times silly buff. Also the thought of him and yuuji having deep conversations about pop culture scratches a very good itch in my heart :3

note 2: this is literally yuuji n gojo in this au im going to HURL !!!

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. work husband au (or, "you keep being suggestive in front of all our coworkers to the point where everyone knows we're not dating but we COULD be and it's silly so I'll go along with it!!!! ...wait why are you asking me out on an actual date?" au) WARNINGS. twilight references. shitting as a threat. hime n gojo hating each other bc they both love oc =3= SUMMARY. He’s a liar, but only for good reason. WORD COUNT. 2.5k

Someone is going to die today.

You’d been so diligent in choosing your hiding spot in the break room fridge. Your one yogurt cup—the one with the strawberry bits swirled in the vanilla—sitting behind the giant bottle of mustard at the bottom of the fridge door shelf. Gone. You try in vain to scour for your snack, but there’s nothing else save for labeled Tupperware and three quarters of a cake from Mei Mei’s birthday celebration yesterday.

The list of culprits shouldn’t be that long, anyway. 

First: Nanami. He wouldn’t. Your boss is built on black coffee and the occasional vegan bao from the restaurant across the street. You’ve never seen him eat anything else.

Utahime, the freak owner of the mustard bottle because she eats it with her pretzels, is lactose-intolerant. There’s no way she’s risking an explosive gut when she’s always busy at reception. 

Nobara’s too new to the office to try inciting violence against her seniors. You’d probably let her off the hook, regardless—she’s too hardworking to stay mad at.

You’d brood more over The Case of Your Missing Yogurt, but Satoru’s loud talking at the lunch table cuts right through your ruminations.

“—like I know it’s personal preference, but I think it’s so lazy,” he grumbles. “My uncle: Hiro. His son? Hiro, junior. God. Corny people piss me off.”

“Right.” Yuuji, the other new junior associate, hangs off Satoru’s every word. “It’s kind of like Bella from Twilight.”

Satoru slaps the table with passion. Yuuji hastily clings to his cup of coffee from spilling over. “Exactly, Yuuji. Exactly! You named your kid not only after the dad but also your ex who wasn’t even your ex?! The combination didn’t even sound good.”

“Edward Jacob,” Yuuji recalls.

“Disgusting.” Satoru shivers. “I don’t—Jesus. Don’t let me think about that. It’s so vile.” 

You close the fridge door, trek a sad path to the chair next to Satoru. Yuuji gives you a quick smile. You decide to scheme your murder plan later, because now you just want to pinch Yuuji’s cheeks off—your juniors are so cute! “Hello,” he greets politely.

Satoru sneaks an arm around your shoulders, resting it on the back of the chair. “What’s up with you?”

Is your sadness that obvious? God, you were waiting for that yogurt all morning.

“I’ll tell you later,” you say, because you might start languishing if you think one more second about your lost snack. “Hi, Yuuji. What were you guys saying about naming babies?”

Satoru huffs. “I hate parents who name their kids stupid names.”

(Yuuji takes a sip of coffee.)

“You wouldn’t do that with our kids, right?” Satoru asks you next.

(Yuuji, promptly, chokes on his coffee.)

“Absolutely not,” you answer, just as nonchalant.

“Hek.” Yuuji dissolves into five seconds of hard coughing. “You—you two are married?”

“Nope,” you both chirp at the same time.

The poor boy just stares, coffee blushing on his shirt. “Ah,” he says. “I see.”

Satoru shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d have babies with her. But she makes my coffee wrong every time I ask for it. I don’t think I could share my bank account with someone like that.”

Yuuji looks at you for a response. You reach over to pat his hand. “Don’t listen to him. You just keep working hard. And don’t tell Nanami that we gossip too much.”

“Right. I guess—well.” Yuuji stammers. “Does..? Am I? Is this… a secret?”

He sticks a hesitant finger up, pointing it at you, then at Satoru. Satoru wiggles a finger right back.

“Whatever Utahime tells you is wrong,” Satoru says, and Yuuji stares at him like he’s waiting for an explanation, but all Satoru does is wave him off. “Lunch is done.”

“Oh. Right.” Yuuji stands up, bows quickly, then remembers his mug. He runs to the sink to drop it off, then says, “I’ll–I’ll be careful around Utahime!”

He doesn’t wait for a response; he scampers out the room like he’s got a secret to share. 

Satoru’s always been lax with new hires—you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d explained his entire life story to Yuuji in the last hour. But his ongoing charade of touting you as his much-more-than-coworker co-worker is the oldest secret of Office Drama there is.

Utahime, your best and first co-worker friend who worked in the same room with you as clerks. Satoru, whose first day was the last day of your probation period, booted her out of the office because she got the full-time reception position she applied for. He proved himself a competent coworker. Steadfast in work ethic, a little too up the ass about gelling his hair properly in the morning. Had to look good to do good, he claimed. 

Utahime’s been out for his ass ever since, complaining that he was using his good looks to steal you away from her. Satoru took the bait right away. Made it his mission everyday to make Utahime green with explosive jealousy for having taken her rightful spot as your Worker Bestie for the Resties.

It started with the little gestures. A gentle hand on your lower back when you passed by reception (Utahime, who zeroed in on the touch from her desk, scoffing loudly). Complimenting your outfit choice of the day (“I think she’s beautiful everyday!”). Making you laugh with his stupid Arnold Schwarzenegger impressions (she hated this the most; she said he sounded like an ugly troll). 

“That’s the love of my life you cad!” Utahime bellowed, once, when Satoru trailed after you from the elevator one morning. Nanami said she had to stop playing sad Drake songs every morning when you passed by her desk because the melancholy brought the office morale down.

“You know I take good care of her,” Satoru called back. “And nobody says cad anymore, harlot!”

(They insulted each other for two more minutes using outdated expletives. After Nanami came to intervene, you gave him five bucks for his vegan bao to calm him down.)

You don’t really know when Satoru’s attempts to establish workplace dominance turned into straight-up flirting, though. Utahime didn’t need to be around anymore for him to butter you up. He’d leave little sticky notes he left on your monitor to remind you about deadlines, the next fire drill, drawing those little hearts at the ends of his sentences. The hand on your back turning into an arm draped on your shoulder. 

You told Utahime about it when Satoru took a sick day. She was livid. Then, immediately, she started tearing up.

“So I’m demoted from Bestie for the Resties and he’s trying to get into your pants?!” She moaned, sliding dramatically down her chair in the lunch room. “I’m going to pass away right now.”

“It’s not like he’s being serious,” you contended. 

Utahime gave you a hard look. “Please don’t tell me you actually believe that.”

You looked at her blankly. Wholly unfazed, because you really did believe Satoru had no other motive. He was just your stupid coworker–who sat across from you and did nice things and said nice stuff and you were pretty sure the older lady from accounting had a crush on him, anyway. 

“It’s nothing,” you decided, and Utahime shook her head, scoffing.

“Look. That garbage can’s been going after you since day one. You may not see it, but I have eyes, my pumpy-wumpkin bugaboo.” She tapped your nose. “You owe me twenty when you see I’m right.”

And that was all she had to say about it.

If anything, you figure it’s better for Yuuji to learn right from the source than be wrongfully convinced by Utahime that Satoru was a piece of shit homewrecker who lived to piss her off. Regardless of whatever lie is being fed to the junior staffers, there is one universal truth: you are the crowned jewel of this office floor, and that means everyone’s being lit on fire till you find the person who stole your fucking yogurt.

The second the door closes behind Yuuji, you glare daggers at Satoru. He still has his arm around you. 

“I might kill you,” you start.

“You say that everyday.” Satoru grins. “Don’t tell me the thought of having my babies scares you that much.”

Steam might actually blow out of your ears. “That’s not—stop trying to confuse me! My yogurt! It’s gone from the fridge!”

Satoru stares at you. Then his face morphs into a mix of shock and disbelief, and he screeches: “Are you saying I took it?!”

You sag in your seat, give him a look that tells him he should just confess before you find the closest sharp thing in this room. He just levels your stare with the same offended look, and you give in first because you don’t have time to argue anymore. Lunch really is over.

“Fine,” you sneer. “But if I find anything incriminating I will crucify you.”

Satoru fakes a shiver. “Ooh. Threaten me again. I can take it.”

He screams when you pinch the sensitive spot just below his armpit.

.

.

.

Right when the clock hits 4:59, Satoru hauls himself up from his seat. 

“Meet me outside. I’m getting my stuff then ripping ass in the bathroom,” Satoru tells you.

You snort. “Which one?”

“The one closest to the elevators.” In other words, right next to reception where Utahime is closing right now. Satoru is nothing if not calculating in his efforts to vex that poor woman. “See you.”

At this point in the day, the despair of losing your yogurt has simmered down to lazy indifference. You’ll just have to interrogate everyone tomorrow. Maybe print out a missing yogurt paper to stick on the fridge with no reward but your sincere gratitude and the promise to stick out for their missing lunch, should the same depravity befall them too. 

You turn your monitor off, make sure your desk is neat. Swiping off any crumbs from Satoru’s desk because he snuck in a sandwich today after forgetting to eat when he was talking to Yuuji.

And then you see it.

The silver shine of ripped plastic in the trash. 

At first, you’re skeptical. You’re too tired to spark another match of anger. But surely enough, when you hunch over to look, an empty can of yogurt sits innocent, perfect. All your strawberry vanilla goodness wiped clean.

You think of all the spectacular ways you could beat the shit out of Satoru, because he didn’t only lie; he thought you were stupid enough not to see the evidence right across from you. He could have at least thrown it into Mei Mei’s trash. Snuck it into Yuuji’s bag when he wasn’t looking. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s being underestimated.

So when you meet Satoru outside the elevators, the first thing you say is:

“You’re a giant fucking oaf and I want you to stay exactly one metre away from me till we get to our cars.”

He always parks his car next to yours.

“O-kay.” He puts his hands up in surrender, maintaining his distance. “Actually, that’s a good thing. My ass. It’s weeping. Ow.”

You quickly realize that this is the best course of action you could have taken, because you know the one thing Satoru hates, and it’s being ignored.

And you do it well.

“Your hair looks pretty today,” he says when you step out into the garage.

“I like the jeans you picked out,” he notes when you walk ahead without him.

“I’m going to crash my car into the first pole I see,” he whines the second you reach your car, and he traps you against the door with a hand pressed above the window. Distant enough to keep you comfortable, but you still feel more warmth than you’ve ever felt from him before. Like those slow burn romances where the lead slyly flirts with the pretty girl he’s been chasing for two seasons, except you’re one second away from kneeing his balls into painful oblivion. “Why are you being mean?”

You cross your arms. “Because you lied.”

“About?”

“You know what about!”

He clicks his tongue. Then his eyebrows lift in realization. “Ah.”

You wait for him to continue. Maybe you’d ask him to go down on his knees, get those nice linen pants dirty with grime and dust just to gloat about his passion for you and only you. You’ll partake in his drama for the sake of an inflated ego. But all he does is smile, and he’s got a handsome face, and for some reason, you’ve got nothing for rebuttal.

“So I have a confession to make,” he starts. 

You nod.

“I did eat your yogurt. Don’t say anything yet!” Satoru interrupts your open mouth. “I just. I didn’t think you’d be too upset.”

“Hm,” you concede. “Go on.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

This is too easy. You feel like an ant trapped in a glass jar. You’re used to the bickering, the roundabout conversation because somehow, he always makes you laugh. Your conversations are never serious. 

But this. This feels serious.

“How?” You ask, gut heavy with dread, anticipation.

“I’ll take you out for lunch,” he suggests, and you wait a heartbeat for him to tack on a sike, I’m broke, but he almost looks nervous. Like he wants so badly for you to understand something he knows so well. 

“It–um. Like… tomorrow we go across the street and get those baos Nanami loves so much?”

You’re stalling. Satoru laughs. You think you’re starting to like the way he looms over you like this.

“Like on the weekend, I pick you up, and we both look pretty, and you say you’re paying but then I slap your hand away from your card, and I pay because I need to give you a good impression,” he rambles.

“You don’t need to give me a good impression.” You’re almost breathless. “You–you…”

Satoru tilts his head, and it’s annoyingly charming. “Me?”

“I thought–I thought we–this is just–it’s you and me?” You stumble. He watches you shift your feet. Takes his hand off your car, uncrosses your arms with a tug on your wrist. You think he’s about to hold your hand, but he pulls away at the last second.  

“It’s always been you and me,” he repeats. Then scratches the back of his head because you think he’s floundering, too. “Just not for everyone else this time.”

You think you might genuinely explode. All your synapses stretch to the absolute limit, you’re almost convinced you’ll bleed from your ears. “You’re being serious.”

He nods. There’s zero indication that he understands the gravity of the situation. But it’s quiet in this garage. You hear it then, the tapping his shoe makes when he’s impatient.

“When–when you told Yuuji about sharing bank accounts,” you continue.

“Okay I’m not in that deep,” Satoru defends. “Well. Who knows. Maybe I could be.”

You shove his shoulder. “You can’t just say that!”

“You’re so violent.” He rubs the spot you’ve tainted. As if you did any damage. He’s just doing it to fuck with you. “Do you hit all the guys you’re into?”

“Are you trying to make me say no?” That’s a lie. You know this. You’re just still in shock that you might actually owe Utahime twenty bucks. Satoru clicks his teeth.

“Look. You don’t have to answer me now. And I’ll buy you your yogurt back.” He digs in his bag, taking his car keys out. “Just… let me know, okay?”

He lingers in his spot. He’s not the main character in this romance scene, though. It’s you, the unforgiving lead who can’t decide what they want for themselves, and when the opportunity comes for a new start, they stand frozen in time. All those past mistakes a whirlwind behind you, threatening your security, and the glass breaks, and all of a sudden you’re in a garage, making a fool of yourself in front of the character who never deserved a bad ending. You wouldn’t do that to him.

“If I say yes,” you murmur. Satoru perks up instantly. “Can I choose where we go?”

“Depends. Do they have free ice cream for dessert?”

Of course that would be his only stipulation. You’re glad he’s easy to feed. “Probably.”

Satoru nods. He clicks his car unlocked. “If you say yes,” he repeats, rounding the back of his car to the driver’s seat, “I’ll go anywhere for you.”

He leaves you gawping. You watch him open his door, sit down. Adjusting the air conditioner high because you know he’s always blasting it. He doesn’t roll the window down to say bye, just pulls from his spot, and you mind your feet, mind the way he waves at you, but not as enthused as he usually is with it.

You stand there, thinking about your yogurt, and about Utahime’s face when you tell her you’ll say yes.

[mzminola]

Because something superhero comics, noir, and fanfic all have in common is leaning into soap opera convolutedness, @alexmaybe & I have come up with the Bruce Wayne Spawn Shell Game AU, in which the middle kids are all biologically Bruce’s.

(Dick really is John & Mary Grayson’s, and Damian is Talia’s direct clone.)

No one finds this out until Batman!Bruce & Robin!Damian are fighting a magic user who has heard rumors that Robin is Batman’s son (rumors started by Damian’s not so quiet comments about being The Blood Son). The mage gloats that they’re going to use a “teleport everyone with X trait to me” spell to yank Robin over, and use the disorientation of teleportation to take him hostage. “I will summon Batman’s direct blood descendents! Mwa ha ha ha!”

Cue Damian staying firmly at Bruce’s side, while Cass in street wear with bubble tea, Jason doing gear maintenance, a random college student studying for exams, and Tim in his pajamas pop out of the ether all within a yard of the mage.

The mage regrets their life choices.

~

Now, how did we get here?

Firstly, during the years Bruce is doing his world tour of Learning Batman Skills while still swinging in and out of Gotham, Bruce is seeking physical activity to make his brain shut up, and also seeking intimacy but keeping too many secrets to let himself actually get close to people, so he is sleeping with Even More People Than In His Batman Years. He remembers condoms but always doesn’t use them perfectly.

Bruce meets Sandra & Carolyn Wu-San at their dojo in Brooklyn. Some time later when David Cain coerces Sandra into reproductive sex, she seeks out every male martial artist she vaguely respected or thought had potential to sleep with them too as a Fuck You to undermine Cain’s scheme without openly breaking their deal.

Bruce has a one-night stand with pre-transition Willis Todd, both of them just giving their first (legal) name, no contact info. Figuring out several months later that he’s pregnant but no clue how to find the other father, Willis, who does want kids someday, weighs the pros and cons of “having trouble making ends meet right now, can I support a kid?” with “everyone says pregnancy would be harder later in transition,” and opts to have Jason now.

Sheila Haywood is either a friend or a bribable hospital worker (or both) who agrees to put her name down as the mom so Willis can legally be his kid’s dad without any complicated paperwork. Willis and Catherine never got around to telling Jason before both of them died. When Jason showed up at the camp thinking Sheila was his bio-mom she rolled with it, figuring she could get details of why he thought that later, and then unfortunately [canon ensued].

It won’t be until the spell incident happens that Bruce puts together one night stand Wilhelmina with Why do the pictures of Willis Todd look kinda familiar? Because he definitely never slept with Catherine or Sheila.

Bruce meets, befriends and sleeps with Janet Drake while going on an archaeological research binge. He’s also still having a lot of random bar and nightclub hook-ups.

Some months later, while Jack is out of town on a business trip, Janet complains to Bruce that Jack really wants a son, but the latest ultrasound shows a female fetus. Janet really doesn’t want to deal with pregnancy ever again, but Jack isn’t open to adoption, and ugh if only Janet could just swap this one for a male infant. It would be so easy to nudge Jack into an archeology dig closer to the due date, he’d never have to know!

(No, neither Bruce nor Janet have thought maybe Bruce got Janet pregnant instead of Jack.)

“You’ve got this knack for finding odd things at just the right moment, Brucie…”

Janet knows it’s a long shot, and dubiously ethical because adoption records exist for good reason, and if they can’t find a baby that works she’ll just have to dig her heels in with Jack against trying for a son, but if Bruce could find a baby…

Bruce makes no promises other than keeping an eye and ear out.

Anyway, Bruce isn’t Batman yet, but he’s home between tutors on his World Tour and venturing into the city in various disguises to learn more about Gotham’s underworld, and getting into trouble. So it is Bruce Wayne with a fresh concussion, not a drunk Brucie, who stumbles into an alley to vomit and finds a baby in a dumpster.

It’s a very full dumpster, one half of the lid broken off. An orange cat (who may or may not be Teekl returning a future favor) is curled around the newborn baby boy. The infant has a shock of hair as dark as Janet’s.

Concussed Bruce walks all the way to the Drake townhouse marveling at the tiny hand gripping his finger so tight.

Janet schedules a C-section. Bruce forges Timothy Jackson Drake’s birth certificate and arranges the adoption of Janet’s daughter by a family in Oregon. He keeps tabs on them over the years, preparing a Wayne Foundation scholarship to the college of her choice someday.

~

Back to the magic incident: Nightwing and Batwoman were on their way there as back-up when the mage cast the summoning spell, so Dick is able to hug Damian as the kid bluescreens about Not Being The Blood Son.

Bruce awkwardly explains that yes, he ran Damian’s DNA when Talia dropped him off, but when he realized Damian was Talia’s direct clone, he also realized Talia was taking steps to ensure her child escaped the League of Assassins, by attaching him to one of the few people on the planet who can go toe to toe with (and even defeat) her father. Bruce opted to go along with Talia’s choice.

Kate has gotten popcorn from somewhere, munching on it while Bruce desperately thinks back to his Mega Ho Years to figure out how everyone else happened.

Cass is feeling a vindictive sort of smugness about not being David Cain’s bio-kid. He’s still her dad, but he only got part of what he wanted from Shiva.

Jason is pissed at Bruce for not figuring it out earlier, but kinda relieved that Sheila wasn't actually his mom.

The freshman college student from Oregon is really annoyed, she was at study group and she CANNOT fail this class!!! Now she’s on the entire opposite coast???

Tim is having some feelings about how fucking soap opera his origins turn out to be. Bruce slept with his mom Janet, but also she wasn’t his birth mom, he was adopted and no one told him??? Who the heck is his other birth parent??? What were the odds of his apparent bio-parent Bruce being the one to find him??? Wait, was finding baby Tim in a dumpster why younger!Bruce suddenly had Wayne Enterprises put money into improving and proliferating Safe Drop-Off Sites in Gotham???

(He is Not Thinking About his complicated relationship with Jack.)

~

Tim, when things are just starting to quiet down: “Wait, so does Talia have XY chromosomes, or does Damian have XX? Because I’ve done a lot of of cloning lab work, and—”

Damian: “Don’t talk about my mother’s chromosomes, dumpster baby.”

Tim: >:(

Bruce, very tired: “Damian, don’t call your brother a dumpster baby.”

Damian, indignant: “But you just told us you found him in a dumpster as an infant!”

Freshman college student: “Dude, it’s still fucking rude? Like how would you like being called a test tube baby?”

Damian: /draws sword/

Dick, pushing sword back into sheath: “No drawing weapons on civilians. Or calling Tim rude things. Tim, I think any chromosome questions are Talia and Damian’s personal medical business, so please don’t speculate on them.”

Tim, sarcastically: “Sorry, I forgot medical privacy exists after how you all reacted to the spleen thing.”

Freshman college student: “Spleen thing?”

Tim: “Don’t worry, it’s not genetic. Speaking of, B, you’re gonna have to update, like, all our medical history now.”

Bruce, even more tired: "Hn."

[gendervapor14]

(update from previous ask — gotta send numbers for each hang on)

2, 12, 18, and 21 for crocodile!! and 2, 22, and 25 for doffy ✨

(here is the previous ask)

sweating and trembling. you want ME to answer things about crocodile and doflamingo??? okay let's do this

CROCODILE

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

i love how he punches holes through his newspapers with his hook. so uncalled for. you could totally just balance the pages between the curve and point but no, he has zero chill, he's gonna fuck up this newspaper so no one else can read it afterwards.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

i think he has a special interest/connection with animals. a lot of animals feature in baroque works, especially his lovely bananawanis. animals are easy to trust and difficult to hold grudges against, so maybe their presence gives him some peace of mind? he seems to have no issues disposing of his human agents if they fail him, but i like to think he's more forgiving with animals.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

i'm a sucker for a devoted second-hand, (cough cough vergo) so i'm gonna go ahead and say daz bones and crocodile. i love how daz seems to be the exception to his cruel-streak. they're both there for each other and it's warms my heart. also gonna rec this fic real quick because the daz & croc relationship is so good...

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

oh. this is tough. in general i enjoy crocodile's ability to deadpan his way through a comedic situation? especially since he's frequently in the company of rosinante when i write him XD so yeah i enjoy making him very serious or slightly annoyed when there's some sort of ridiculous situation. something i don't like is how i never quite feel like i have a grasp on his character 😵 croc i need a backstory for you so badly... it's killing me...

DOFLAMINGO

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

so many things. i think for now, i'll say my favorite thing is how he seems to love sitting incorrectly. in warlord meetings, he's always got his ass perched on the back part of the chair, and his feet are in the seat. provided he isn't sitting on the table!! he likes to sit on those too. also people. loves to sit on people. think he used king riku as a footstool at one point.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

i'm actually really picky about how doflamingo is written. i don't read much about him unless i'm familiar with the writer. i'm not a huge fan of the manic-pixie-girl coked-up-to-the-moon mingo (although i do think that's a funny style at times) also not a fan of the stories where he's just used as The Big Bad to make someone (law) suffer for the sake of whump. i love fics where he's got some crackhead energy, but not TOO much, yknow. he's quite intelligent and very diligent with his schemes, so a lot of the more comedic/brutal takes on his character make his intelligence less believable.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

OH i love this question. my first impression was the warlord meeting i think? i was fascinated. loved his character design (rip black V neck shirt. why couldn't he wear that for dressrosa. the white open shirt was Not doing him any favors) i thought he was just gonna be some Quirky crazy bastard, and he is! but when i saw dressrosa, specifically the backstory at spider miles, my brain opened up. his backstory, the brother trauma, how he spent his early life... it wasn't what i was expecting and i found him much more compelling with all that depth. that's probably why i tend to write him like more of a sleazy business man, spider miles mingo stuck in my brain XD

thank you for these questions!! ♥ so much good thinking for the sleepy brain muscles XD

[windchimesgames]

Happy Holidays! I had the good fortune of being assigned your Secret Santa, and I couldn’t be happier! I took the opportunity to familiarize myself with the demo for the fantastic ReAnimation Scheme, and immediately found myself hooked by the absolutely inspired concept of necromancy doubling as a soul-sucking customer service job. I hope that I was able to do Raenelle and Sebastien justice in this min-fanfiction I wrote! 

B.

___________________________________

“By the Ancestors, girl, what do you mean I’m only a Silver Patron? I left those accursed brats enough for Platinum-tier thrice over, and yet you claim--”

The spirit before me swells with inflamed pride, continuing his ranting unabated as I tune him out. I ought to have known he’d be one of those. As soon as I opened the trunk and saw the coin with his name on it, it ought to have been obvious. 

Zianna, I get up early for once, and for what? My transfer request denied yet again, and now--

“...are you even listening? Deities, I’d heard you Reanimators are the worst of the bunch, but to think that you’d be so blatant in disregarding your betters--! Call your supervisor at once! For someone of my stature to be allotted a mere half-day of reanimation is highway robbery! Do you even know who I am, Death Mage?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to head off an incipient headache, I nod, eyes flicking back to the scroll. Incarnations, why couldn’t the first summoning of the day be a simple one?

“Yes, of course I know who you are. I summoned you after all, Sir Rudiford.”

“Lord! Lord Rudiford!!”

I force a smile that is more a baring of teeth than anything.

“My apologies. Since you have passed, the title is now recorded as belonging to--”

“To no one yet! I know full well my Reanimation Rites never would have been seen to at all, if I’d named an heir while living. If I could take my title and wealth with me, I’d do it! Ancestors take the wretches, not one is worthy of either the name or the coin.”

The spirit before me falls to furious silence, flickering a sulfurous yellow. The portrait depicted on the scroll is not especially pleasant, and I reflect that death has done little to improve upon the (former) Lord Rudiford’s appearance.

“Are you denying your Reanimation Services, then?” I inquire through gritted teeth.

The former lord gives me an excoriating glare in reply. “Of course I am not! I am demanding an extension--half a day is not nearly enough time to wrap up business for a personage such as I! The Silver ranking is clearly in error--I ought to have a full day and a half, at the least!”

My head tips back heavily. Zianna, what did I ever do to deserve this?

Clearing my throat, I meet his eyes again before the spirit becomes apoplectic. “And as I have explained, extensions are not within my power to provide. See?”

I hold the scroll aloft, jabbing a finger at it.

“Silver Patron of the Reanimation Scheme. That comes with a half-day’s reanimation. Your body has been preserved in good condition with that in mind--but any extension without proper authorization, and you’ll be stinking of rot and dropping limbs in the street by day’s end. Hardly in keeping with the dignity of a lord.” I stress the title heavily, trying to suppress a smirk as I do so. The idea of this garbage spirit stinking of literal garbage appeals to me. 

“Your manager, mage! If you are too far down the food chain to be of use to me, surely you have some minder or other that will have authority to act!”

I sigh, eyes flicking to the form shamelessly slumbering on my desk, silver and white fur splayed against the red and brown leather binding of thick volumes I have no intention of reading on my own. 

“Right. You’re right, of course, Mister Rudiford. Let me transfer you--”

“Lord! Lord Rudif--”

With a flare of my magic, the sulfur-yellow shade blinks out of being, and I sigh heavily with relief.

“That isn’t likely to improve your rating, Raenelle.”

I glower at the cat sprawled on my desk. Sebastien has done no more than crack open a single golden eye, but already he is judging me.

“As if you were any help at all. If the Twelve Deities and Ancestors can see just what I have to deal with, I’m sure--”

Sebastien stretches in a boneless ripple of silver fur. “Then they’ll know what I am subjected to with you, and commend me to the heavens while relieving me of my promised duties.” 

Scowling, I give the long, fluffy tail a slight tug, just enough to be annoying without being painful.

“Some familiar you are.”

“And some Reanimator you are. Have you given any thought of what will happen at the morgue, when that cad wakes up?”

I chuckle.

“Sure. They’ll kick Lord Rudiford out to see his family as swiftly as they can, same as me.”

Sebastien shakes his head, obviously unwilling to appreciate the vision that is bringing me so much mirth. 

“And his family?”

I shift my weight with a sigh, annoyed.

“What of them? Will they even care what he thinks, the old skinflint? They carved his name into a single coin, as his reanimation token! I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them killed him,” I observe darkly, scanning his scroll. 

Sebastien appears momentarily taken aback, but soldiers on bravely. 

“You can’t make assumptions--”

I turn a malevolent smile back on him. The headache is building pressure. “Sure, okay. Great. Shall I summon him back and refer him to you, then? As my mentor, I mean. That’s the closest to--”

The golden eyes vanish, thick, brushy tail curling over them almost as a shield. 

“My role is to counsel you, not appease the spirits you upset.”

I sigh, shaking my head.

“Coward.”

I look at the mirror that dominates the room, reflecting both light and darkness in equal measure. I never wanted this to be my job. I never wanted to be a guide for anyone, let alone spirits. 

The glass is cold where I rest my brow against it.

“Raenelle? Are you asleep?”

I let out a mighty sigh, cheeks puffing outwards and breath fogging the glass.

On to the next. Let’s see…

I scan my mental list of the day.

Jori. Jori Halwin.

Here’s hoping he’s easier than the last.

OH MY GOSH!!!!! I'm so happy you're my secret santa, and 🥰is this two gifts in one?!?!! Adorable Sebastien fanart AND a hilarious and beautifully written fanfic!!!! I love these, thank you so so so much! Happy Holidays to you too @brightoakgame!!

(And thank you to @crescencestudio for hosting the lovely event!!)

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 4: What Lurks Beneath a Smile

Summary

Azul visits NRC and meets some of the people close to Jamil, who are understandably curious whether they’re dating or not.

In the middle of their hangout, Jamil learns of Azul’s burdens as an RSA student, as Rielle’s friend, and the dire danger that comes with them.

Word Count: 18, 487

A few days later, Jamil is making a meal for himself in the school kitchen. Normally he’d be doing it at Scarabia, but some of the freshmen are currently using the kitchen there. He doesn’t mind, it’ll be good if more of his residents develop an interest in cooking; he’d have more help in preparing their meals.

Ruggie was already there when Jamil arrived, and they've been chatting for a while like they usually do whenever they run into each other here.

But Ruggie doesn't have his usual energy tonight, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t wanna return to Savanaclaw even though it’s getting late already.

Jamil has a pretty good idea why, but he’s not sure what to say, or if he should even say anything. Maybe Ruggie would prefer not to talk about it at all, especially since Jamil wasn’t even there when it happened. All his knowledge of it came from stories he heard floating around.

"You can go ahead, Jamil," Ruggie says when he sees that Jamil has finished cooking. "You can eat over there at the table, I'll clean up here."

"You sure?" Jamil asks, glancing down at the bandages on Ruggie's arm.

Jamil had an injury too, a few weeks back. Cut his own hand while cooking on a night just like this, only for him to find out that it had been Ruggie's Signature Spell to disable him before their interdorm Spelldrive tournament.

But even then, he healed up. In contrast, Ruggie's injury, whatever it was, continued to persist well past all other scrapes and bruises he got during the day of the tournament proper.

"Yeah, man," Ruggie says. "I got this. You can start eatin'. I'll join you in a bit."

Ruggie speaks with his usual light tone, but Jamil can see that he can't use his injured arm as well as the other one, and his eyes are a little glazed and distracted.

Jamil sighs. "As if I'd be comfortable eating while someone else is still doing the work. If you don't want me to sit and watch you, you might as well let me help. You can pay me back by giving me a portion of your food…" He squints at the ingredients. "What're you trying to make here?"

"A'right, fine," Ruggie says. "And I'm just making potato and leek soup." He glances at Jamil's dish. "What did you make?"

"Found some black sea bass from the freezer unit and cooked it with some radishes," he shrugs like it was no big deal. "Decided to try something new while the freshmen are busying themselves with Scarabia's kitchen. Meanwhile, how're the other Savanaclaws gonna survive without your cooking? Leaving your lil' cubs out to starve for the night?" he then teases.

"Jack volunteered," Ruggie says. "He said he'll ask the others to help, too. He and Yuu insisted that I take a break. That lil' Ramshackle runt can be persuasive, y'know? Hand me that spatula," he points to the utensils hanging on hooks.

Jamil did just that, also bringing in any other utensils he knows Ruggie would need for the soup.

As he does so, he hums. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ruggie of all people decides to take a break. Even when we were freshmen, you were already hopping on whatever gig or scheme you could lay your hands on for money's sake."

That was, until Leona came along and he and Ruggie promptly began a give-and-take dynamic. But he feels that it would be inappropriate to bring him up, if the recent rumors of what happened before the tournament were true.

"How have you been coping so far? As someone who had a whole year to adjust, it takes a while to get used to."

"It's been okay," Ruggie shrugs. "Even with my work at Savanaclaw, I still got time to get extra gigs here and there. Sweepin' the stables, weeding the gardens, stuff like that. Oh, by the way, I was looking for you the other day to ask about a recipe, but your Vice Prefect said you'd gone out to buy an outfit for the Autumn Dance. You were out for like the whole day, didja have trouble finding an affordable suit? I can hook you up to some of the clothing stores I know."

"... No need," Jamil coolly replies. "I already got what I was looking for and I doubt I'd need to buy a new set of clothes anytime soon. If I ever do, though, I'll let you know." Though he knows that such advice often comes with a price when it's from Ruggie. "So? What's the recipe you needed help with?"

"Do ya know how to make vegetable dishes tasty?" Ruggie asks. "We have a greenhouse and some gardens here so it's much cheaper to mix vegetables and meat in dishes, but the cubs at Savanaclaw are extremely picky and we always have leftovers that go bad if I try."

Ruggie puts his soup in a bowl and grabs a spoon. "C'mon," he jerks his head towards the table and walks over to it.

As they make their way over to the table, with the ghost chefs tilting their heads at them in greeting as they pass by, Jamil starts informing Ruggie about taking out the bitter taste in vegetables (that's most likely why many of the meat-loving Savanaclaws are averse to them) using the right seasoning, like salt or oil and avoiding cooking methods like boiling when he could roast or stir-fry them instead.

"And you can try mixing them with meat in a way where it's impossible for the others to completely take them out," Jamil cunningly smiles. "Like meatballs, omelettes, pies, cookies… The possibilities are endless. Plus, I'm sure once they've figured out the hidden veggies, they wouldn't complain on account of how tasty you'd make them."

Ruggie snickers. "I knew I could rely on ya. If you need anythin' just let me know!"

Jamil's phone on the table lights up from a text.

Ruggie's gaze falls on the name on the screen and he raises his eyebrow.

"Piano Man?" Ruggie says, downing a spoonful of soup. "Why's a piano guy texting you at this hour?"

Jamil gives Ruggie a small look of warning as he takes his phone. "Good news: I thought of how you're gonna pay me back for my advice. Forget you ever saw that."

Ruggie narrows his eyes in suspicion, then he snickers. "A'right, you can keep your mystery piano man a secret."

Jamil leans back in his seat and reads Azul's message.

Jamil's eyes widen a little in surprise, then they soften.

And with that, he turns his phone off and goes back to his meal, knowing that more time spent texting meant more time getting stared at by Ruggie.

"Anyway," he clears his throat. "What are your plans for the upcoming dance? Would attending it be considered part of your break, too?"

Ruggie stares at his reaction suspiciously for a few seconds, but luckily he lets it go.

"There's free food, Jamil, of course I'm going to the dance! I ain't got beef with RSA, anyway, like you and the others. Bet they got all types'a fancy food, and I don't have to prepare any of it!" Ruggie snickers. "I'm a lil' surprised you're attending, though. Never figured you for one who's into those fancy events."

"Fair enough," Jamil shrugs. "I don't have much beef with RSA either, save for that quiz bee, but that's water under the bridge. I figured it'd be a waste to skip out on a celebration when I intend to live my days here to the fullest however possible. Besides, I'm used to those parties so I'm not averse to them. It'd be interesting to see what an RSA party is like and how it compares to ours. I heard even Idia Shroud might be coming. If you're going to be surprised about anybody, be surprised about him."

"Whoa, Idia Shroud?" Ruggie's eyes widen. "Now that's a rare sight to see. I've been here two years and I think I've only seen him like three times. And hey, look at you bein' mature about that quiz bee! I still hear some guys being salty about it, grumblin' about how that Azul Whatshisface stole victory from us. As if they did any work," Ruggie scoffs.

"I know," Jamil smirks in amusement. "I pity them for not having better things to do with their time… What would you have done, if you had lost like I did?"

"Woulda eaten like two dozen donuts to make myself feel better," Ruggie says immediately. "What did you do? I was gonna ask you to hang out after the confetti but ya disappeared. Ya didn't sneak off and kill Azul, didja?" he snickers.

"Hm-hm, who knows?" was all Jamil replies with, slyly taking another bite from his meal. "Also, I wouldn't exactly call you mature, either, considering how you… yanno… " he gestures to his hand, where a faint scar can be seen. "... The lengths you were willing to go to keep me off the field 'cause you perceived me as a threat."

Ruggie's smirk melts off his face, and he looks down at his bowl that was almost empty.

"Yeah… Sorry about that…" he mutters. Then he looks up at Jamil again with a humorous smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was a real asshole, wasn't I? Not gonna happen again."

He takes his bowl in both hands and downs the remaining soup in one gulp.

"I'm gonna clean up," Ruggie stands up and claps Jamil on the shoulder, then makes his way to the sink.

Jamil watches Ruggie rise and walk to the sink, quiet. He knew he had to get to the conversation somehow.

"... Will you be heading back to your dorm after this? Or do you have other places to sleep in for the night?"

Ruggie starts washing the dishes and takes his time answering.

"I dunno yet," he mumbles as the faucet runs. "I'll decide later."

Jamil finishes his food and moves to the sink.

If he and Ruggie are similar in nature, then Jamil knows Ruggie is going to hate this... but maybe not as much as he would believe.

Color him blasphemous but from recent experiences, talking things out haven't been as bad as he thought.

He settles on the space next to the hyena, voice quiet and sincere. "What happened? Back before the tournament began."

Ruggie purses his lips and doesn't look at him.

"What do you already know?" he asks quietly.

"Other than the fact that all the 'accidents' leading up to it had been a dorm-wide scheme, none," Jamil replies. "I've been hearing rumors but I don't like paying them much heed."

He glances at Ruggie and his arm. "... I can try to guess, though."

Ruggie casts a sideways glance at him, quietly waiting for him to continue.

"Out of all the rumors, one stayed too consistent to simply be baseless speculation." Jamil quietly explains. "Leona, he... The delinquent drove himself into an Overblot."

He gestures to Ruggie's injury. "I'm guessing he did something to you in the heat of the moment, something even harsher than a normal spell or attack, otherwise you'd have healed already."

Ruggie's lower lip trembles, but he bites down on it and nods.

"His…" his voice breaks and he clears his throat. "His Signature Spell. He can turn anything to sand. And when he was… Overblotting… the bastard started monologuing about how he didn't need me and shit, and, well… at some point he kinda tried to kill me," Ruggie lifts his injured arm. "So…"

Jamil winces. "Seriously? Bastard... as if he doesn't know who's been making his life easy around here..."

He looks closely at the bandages and frowns at a realization. Ruggie has never let injuries get the best of him before.

"Something tells me that the injury doesn't hurt you as much as what Leona said." He muses. "You wouldn't have avoided talking about him since then if it hadn't. After all, the other Savanaclaws were there when he Overblotted, but they're being as chummy with him as ever after it's all said and done."

Ruggie finishes washing the dishes and dries his hands on a towel. He leans against the sink and crosses his arms.

"I stayed until after I was sure he's recovered enough," Ruggie says quietly. "But after that… Well, an errand boy's always busy doing work around the campus. And Leona had never been good at starting conversations even when people aren't avoiding him…" Ruggie laughs bitterly. "So we're here. Well, I'm here. I don't care where he is…"

"And you don't have to. If he doesn't wanna talk, then he can have it his way." Jamil huffed. "... If you need a place to stay, we've got spare rooms in Scarabia. I know you don't want to seem like you're running away, but sometimes that distance is needed. You can take it from me."

Ruggie nods. "Thanks, Jamil. I… I think I wanna talk, though…" his voice fades so quietly that Jamil had to strain to hear it. Ruggie chuckles mirthlessly again. "Stupid, right? Guy almost disintegrates my arm and I still care so much about him…"

He takes a shaky breath, and continues speaking in a whisper. "He was in so much pain, Jamil… I don't ever wanna see him like that again. But I don't… I don't know how…" his voice breaks and he shuts his eyes tight.

Jamil's face becomes indecipherable as his brows furrow, then slowly and almost hesitantly, his arm reaches out to give Ruggie a side-hug, glancing around to make sure no one else is snooping in on them before looking back at the hyena.

"It's... good that you wanna talk to him after everything, but if he's not ready then it's not up to you to do everything for him. Give him time, and while you do that, go do some stuff for your sake. Sevens know you deserve it… Honestly, I didn't realize you guys had gotten so close. I was there when you first met him and man, you both looked like you were about to tear each other's throats out. I still remember how you freaked out when he first summoned you to his room."

In an attempt to lighten the mood, he makes an effort to mimic Ruggie's voice. "'He's gonna kill me, I just know it, Jamil. When I disappear from class the next day, you have to come looking for my corpse, okay!?'"

A small laugh bursts out of Ruggie, and he sniffles, opening his eyes again. "I can't believe you remember that." He sighs. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

Ruggie stays quiet for a few moments, then playfully elbows Jamil. "And I didn't realize that you were so down for dramatic talks. When did that happen?"

"I could ask the same about you," Jamil shoots back at him. "I was half-expecting you to put up a fight before admitting anything close to what you told me... Guess I found that those talks hadn't been so bad once the icky part of being all vulnerable is said and done."

Ruggie shrugs. "I guess I'd been wanting to talk about it to someone. And you're the one who asked so I figured it'll be your fault if I ever said anything you didn't wanna hear. Besides, if you blab about this to anyone, I can always get you back by telling everyone about your secret piano man text pal."

Jamil narrows his eyes at him. "Be careful. Spreading his presence might bring his wrath down upon you, not mine." He says this without malice, then chuckles as he shakes his head. "Your secret's safe with me. What're you feeling now?"

Ruggie sniffles and rubs his eyes, grinning. "I feel like I can sleep peacefully in Savanaclaw tonight. Thanks, Jamil, really. Enjoy the half day tomorrow."

Ruggie claps him on the back and starts to walk away.

"No prob, Rug. Enjoy the half day tomorrow yourself," Jamil smiles at him, then moves to finish his dishes by the sink.

The miracle of a talk is astounding, frankly.

Jamil adjusts his backpack on his shoulders as he enters the Scarabia lounge. Classes had finished and he's on his way to his room, then a voice he never expected to hear in this place calls his name.

"Jamil!"

He turns around in time to get tackled by a lanky young girl.

Najma lets him go from the embrace and smiles cheekily at him. "Betcha didn't see that coming, huh?"

Jamil blinks wildly down at her before his jaw drops.

"N-Najma!? What the— What are you DOING here!?"

He puts his hands on her cheeks and inspects her from head to toe, wondering if it's a trick or a trap.

"Hey!" Najma playfully swats his hands away. "Our school has a field trip here today, one of the most prestigious colleges, y'know? I didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. So, surprise!"

Najma grins up at him.

"A fieldtrip?" Jamil asks, finding it almost hard to believe but there was no other explanation for why she could be here out of nowhere. "Then… what are you doing here away from your schoolmates?!"

"Relax!" Najma chides. "I asked our teacher for permission to swing by here! She knows you're my brother so she allowed me. I gotta get back to them now, though. But later we'll be given free reign as long as we won't be wandering alone! Catch you then?"

"I... suppose, though if you're expecting a tour guide around the school, you'll have to ask someone else. I'm heading out later to the town at the base of the mountain."

"Oh, why? Whatcha doing?"

"I'm gonna be meeting up with someone there." Jamil replies vaguely, already dreading having his little sister pry more information out of him.

Najma narrows her eyes at him and slowly nods. "Okay, okay, if you say so…"

Then she gives him a quick hug again. "See you later!" And she runs off.

Jamil, still awkward around physical affection (despite all his years growing up with Kalim), stood stiff as Najma hugged him.

He watches her leave, then checks his watch before texting Azul.

His phone lights up about a minute later as he's making his way to his room.

Nearing the cafeteria, he notices that the students suddenly hush around him.

He looks around curiously and sees that Azul is walking towards the entrance. He's wearing a light blue long-sleeved button up shirt and black slacks, but it seems like the students still recognize him even without his uniform.

People stare and conversations stop as he goes past. Azul doesn't seem to mind, though. He just keeps walking like he normally does, like he doesn't even notice the other students.

"Hey asshole!"

A sandwich flies through the air and hits Azul square in the chest, splattering meat and tomato sauce all over his white uniform.

He stops walking.

"You got the nerve to show your face here after what ya did?" The thrower steps up to Azul, and Jamil notices the Scarabia band around his arm.

He walks closer and recognizes it as his fellow Second Year, Orfeo, the one who's just barely passing his classes.

The other students seem to take a step back, but the crowd is beginning to thicken.

"I have the Headmage's permission for my visit," Azul says calmly with a polite smile.

Orfeo scoffs. "I don't give a damn if you got the Great Seven's permission. Ya don't belong here. The exit is that way," he points to the direction of the school gate.

"I'm afraid that I have some more business here," Azul says, unfazed. "You'll have to tolerate my presence for a little while longer."

Orfeo takes out his Magic Pen and points it threateningly at Azul's face. "Get out."

Faster than Jamil can react, Azul grabs Orfeo's wrist and twists his arm behind his back.

"I will," Azul continues in his calm tone, standing behind Orfeo. "Just give me a few minutes, my friend."

"Ohhhh…!" say a few of the students, some wincing at the smooth takedown while others watch in amazement.

Jamil sighs, walking forward and proceeding to separate the both of them.

He sharply turns to the fellow Scarabia before him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? RSA or not, assaulting a visitor that the Headmage himself acknowledged is grounds for suspension. What if the younger students from the Scalding Sands saw this behavior while they're in the middle of their tour?" He crosses his arms, stern. "Apologize."

His resident looks baffled at his remarks.

"B-But Prefect, this is the guy that stole your win, right? Why are you taking his side?"

"Because I'm not a petulant child who throws a tantrum over what's already happened," he replies, then remembers that he sorta did have a tantrum. But it at least didn't last very long. "Azul here is an honored guest by the Headmage, me, and Jade Leech. If you have a bone to pick with him, then you have a bone to pick with the three of us. Now, are you gonna run along or am I gonna have to report this to Crowley?"

Orfeo stammers for a bit, looking at him and Azul in turn, then runs away.

Jamil loses the scowl and turns to Azul, noticing the stain on his clothes. He clicks his tongue. "How unfortunate... What a waste of perfectly good food."

Azul raises his eyebrows. "Well, I'm glad you know your priorities."

He looks down at his shirt and a frown creases his forehead.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes," he mutters.

Jamil feigns surprise at seeing Azul. "Oh, it's you."

Then he playfully smiles. "Didn't seem like you needed anyone worrying about you. You looked like you could've gotten it all handled but... Couldn't let you get the entire spotlight now."

He takes out his pen and magics most of the mess away, leaving only a faint red stain.

"Here, so you don't have to run around looking like you just recovered from being shot in the chest." He muttered, taking off his grey blazer and passing it over to him.

Since he still had his hoodie on, he was well-dressed enough even without the extra layer so he didn't mind.

Azul looks surprised, but he takes the blazer and wears it, covering up the stain.

"Thank you," he gives Jamil a small smile, and looks around at the crowd of students still staring at them. More than a handful of them are wide-eyed at Jamil's gesture.

Azul hides it well but Jamil could see in the tension in his shoulders that he's uncomfortable with the attention.

Jamil's pretty tense with it as well, but he knows that no one would interfere with them at this point.

"Let's head somewhere else then, yes?" He tries to look relaxed as he puts his hands in his pockets. "Come on, let's get outta here."

Jamil leads Azul to the corridors outside, then his phone rings in his pocket.

He stops walking, giving Azul a signal to pause for a bit, then takes his phone to see who was contacting him.

Ruggie's name is flashing on the screen.

Jamil raises an eyebrow at this. He looks at Azul.

"Hold on, I have to take this."

He politely walks a few steps forward to answer the call and puts the phone to his ear. "Ruggie?"

"Hey," Ruggie's voice says. "I found your sister."

"Hey, Jamil~!" Najma's voice says from a bit further away.

"Apparently it's their free time now from the tour, and she stopped by the kitchens looking for you. Viper junior here says she wants to help me cook. Wanna hang with us?"

Jamil pauses, contemplating before he looks up at Azul. "A friend of mine's asking if I wanna go cook something with them in the school kitchens. We'll have to go back to the cafeteria to get there, though. Do you have anywhere else you need or wish to go first?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, I'm free for the rest of the day. And cooking with your friends does sound lovely. Is it alright if I help as well?" he smiles.

Jamil's glad Azul doesn't seem so miffed about the cafeteria incident anymore.

"Sure. Come on, then," And he begins to make his way back to the crowded dining area. "Do you cook often?"

“Not as often as I’d like,” Azul says. “If I had the time, I’d open some sort of cafe. But as things stand now, I’m always too busy for such things.”

They pass by the cafeteria again, and Jamil isn’t surprised that the students’ eyes are following them.

What does surprise him is the change in energy. The looks thrown in Azul’s way are less wary and suspicious and more like… fascinated? Some of the students actually smile to their friends when they catch sight of Azul, while others are whispering excitedly among themselves.

Jamil glances around the room, slightly unsettled by the attention. Whether it was positive or negative, he decides any attention still makes him uneasy, so he hurries along to the kitchen doors. As soon as they're inside, he lets out an exhale.

"Well..!" He mutters. "That was unexpected..."

"Indeed," Azul glances back with furrowed eyebrows in the direction they came from. "What was that about? Were they actually smiling?"

"That's what it looked like. But what they were smiling about, I'm not sure…“ He squints at Azul. "They seemed to be looking at you, though. Did you do something in the short time you were there somehow?"

"No," Azul looks even more confused. "After my meeting with Jade, I headed straight for the cafeteria. I never even spoke to anyone else. Perhaps it was you they were smiling at?"

"Eugh, I hope not," Jamil shudders at the thought. “This kind attention from his schoolmates could never lead to anything good. "Whatever. They're not bothering us anymore so that's all that matters in the end, I guess. Anyway..." He glances around the kitchen for any sign of Ruggie and Najma. "... This is the first I've heard of you wanting to own a café."

Azul shrugs. “It’s not like I’m actively working towards it. So there isn’t much to talk about.” He gives his usual polite smile, but Jamil detects the resignation in his tone.

Jamil spots them by one of the stoves. Ruggie seems to be cooking while Najma is sitting on the counter and chatting with him.

He falls quiet. As long as Najma and Ruggie haven't noticed them yet…

His voice dropping low into a quiet mutter, he asks Azul, "Why not? It's what you want to do, right?"

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Azul says, still maintaining the smile. “And why are we being quiet?” He asks and looks around, matching Jamil’s change in volume.

"But why can't it be that simple?" Jamil asks, bothered by this side of Azul.

"Oh! There he is!" Najma greets, noticing them and holding up her hand to wave. Then she pauses. "Huh? Hey, who's that?"

Ruggie looks over to them at Najma's question, and his eyes widen.

"No way," he turns off the stove and walks towards them, then points to Azul. "You're that RSA dude, right? Azul… Something?"

Azul smiles and holds up a hand to Ruggie. "Azul Ashengrotto. Pleased to meet you."

Ruggie looks surprised for a second before shaking Azul's hand. "Uh, yeah. Ruggie Bucchi."

"RSA?" Najma hops off the counter and walks over to them as well, eyeing Azul. Then she turns to Jamil. "Is that your blazer he's wearing?" 

"Someone threw food at him and tomato sauce tends to leave a stain, so…" Jamil answers, crossing his arms. "What have you two been getting up to? And Najma, since when did you know Ruggie of all people?"

“I was looking for you in the kitchen,” Najma replies. “But I found him instead. So I asked him if he knew you, and then he called you and here we are!”

“Wait wait,” Ruggie looks confused. “Since when do you two hang out?”

"Since Floyd forcibly roped me along into a merman reunion," Jamil smoothly replies. "He came here to meet up with Jade over something and now he's free and wanted to cook along. This is the least I could do to make up for one of my members chucking food at him. Any problem with that?"

“Chill out!” Ruggie says, holding his hands up. “I was just asking, dang.”

“Ooh, you’re a merman?” Najma says in fascination. “I’ve never met a merman before! Najma Viper, Mr. Azul, sir!” she sticks out her hand. “That grump over there is my brother,” she nods her head towards Jamil.

Azul chuckles and shakes Najma's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Najma."

"Okay, now that introductions are done, let's go do what we came here to do." Ruggie waves them over to the stove and he continues to stir-fry vegetables.

“What your resident did was out of your control, you know,” Azul tells Jamil pointedly as they walk to join Ruggie. "There is nothing to make up for.”

“Yeah,” Najma looks at Jamil suspiciously. “Who knew you had such a kind soul, brother?”

Jamil seems to cringe at the word. "I wasn't being so kind as much as I was being responsible. I think anyone would do the same in my shoes."

Ruggie shrugs and does a seesaw motion with his hand. "I dunno about that, but sure."

"Speaking of responsible..." Jamil turns to fuss over his sister. "You're lucky it was Ruggie of all people you talked to. What have I told you about approaching random strangers, Najma? If anything bad were to happen to you…"

“It’s fine, Jamil,” Najma punches him playfully on the arm. “I saw Ruggie’s uniform so I knew he was a student and maybe he knew you. Besides, you taught me well on how to defend myself! You don’t need to worry so much.”

“Yeah, man,” Ruggie agrees. “If you’re the one who taught her to fight, then if anyone here chucks food at her, they’ll be no match.” He glances at Azul. "It's a good thing you got time to hang with us, Azul. You're not busy over there at RSA?"

"Not today, no," Azul replies. "We have no classes today since most of us are attending to the Autumn Dance preparations, including the professors. And I've finished my committee duties and piano rehearsals this morning, fortunately.”

Ruggie’s ears perk up and he turns to face Azul. “You play the piano?”

Azul nods. “I was assigned to play a few songs at the dance; the rehearsals are part of my routine.”

“Huh!” Ruggie says exaggeratedly. “Interesting. And uh, has Jamil heard you play?”

“Once, the other day,” Azul smiles at the memory. “He caught me playing a simple song at the department store piano.”

“Huh,” Ruggie says again, subtly smirking at Jamil. No doubt remembering what Jamil said about going out to buy an outfit for the dance. “Cool, cool, good to know.”

Jamil rolls his eyes, aware of where Ruggie had been going with his line of questioning.

"What're you cooking now?" He eyes the vegetables, pretending he hadn't heard all that. "Are these for those cubs of yours?"

"Cubs?" Najma repeats, confused.

“I cook for the residents of my dorm, Savanaclaw,” Ruggie explains. “This dish ain’t for them, though.” he looks at Jamil. “I’m trying out some recipes following your advice the other night, mixing vegetables into meat. Right now I’m making tacos, just a small batch to see if I get the taste right. There’s enough for four people, though, so y’all can have some, too.”

Ruggie mixes in some cooked ground beef with the vegetables and turns to Azul. “You’re helping, right? Line up those taco shells on the tray over there.”

“Oh, of course,” Azul rolls up his sleeves and walks over to the sink a little farther from them to wash his hands.

Najma walks next to Jamil and whispers. “He’s pretty cute. What’s your deal with him?”

Jamil raises an eyebrow at Najma's before quietly gazing at Azul, whispering his own reply. "He's a friend. Why? Also if you're gonna lurk here, you should help out, too."

“I am helping!” Najma whispers. “I was the one who told Ruggie what spices to add in the ground beef. But more importantly, is Azul the friend you said you were meeting in town today?”

"... Well, I thought we'd be going to the town after his errand here but it seems like he's fine with seeing more of this place," Jamil explains. "What of it?"

“He’s wearing your blazer,” Najma says pointedly, as if it should be obvious what she’s talking about. “In all our lives, I have never seen you lend anyone any of your clothes. Ever. And he’s from RSA? As in the rival of your school? You always avoid any source of potential intrigue, and now here you are being besties with an RSA guy. Also you’ve been awfully defensive ever since Ruggie called you out for hanging out with him.”

"Yeah, well…" Jamil started, fumbling over his thoughts to think of something to say and coming up with none. "So?"

A smile appears on Najma's face, and her eyes are practically glowing. "So, he's not just a friend to you, is he? That is so cool!" she excitedly whispers, eyeing Azul who is now currently talking with Ruggie while he arranges the taco shells on a tray lined with wax paper.

"If you want, I can try to find out if he likes you back," Najma adds, leaning towards Jamil conspiratorially.

"What?!" Jamil quietly hisses, feeling warmth rush into his face. "No, you will not! Get back h—"

But Najma has already begun slinking to Azul's other side, pretending to be interested in his work.

“Do you like cooking, Mr. Azul?” Najma asks, standing next to him.

“I do,” Azul smiles. “I grew up watching my mother cook, and I’ve developed a fondness for it.”

“I grew up cooking with my brother! I enjoy it, too!” Najma smiles back. “The dance that you’re preparing for, will you be helping with the catering?”

“I’m part of the committee that decides on the menu, yes, but I won’t be helping with the actual cooking,” Azul says.

“What kinda food would be there?” Ruggie asks with interest. “Is it gonna be a buffet? I gotta prepare my plan of attack.”

“NRC’s invited! That’s great!” Najma says excitedly.

“Indeed,” Azul smiles. “And yes, it will be a buffet. Drinks and desserts included.”

“Aw heck yeah!” Ruggie says and pops a piece of beef into his mouth. “Oh this is almost done. We’ll have tacos in a minute, kids!”

“Looks like Mr. Ruggie’s pretty hyped about the dance. Maybe you should ask him to be your date,” she says jokingly to Azul, watching carefully for his reaction.

Azul chuckles. “Ah, well, your brother has already asked me that. I’m going to the dance with him.”

Najma gasps softly and her eyes widen.

Ruggie dissolves into a coughing fit, almost choking on the food that he had tasted again. He thumps his chest with his fist a few times.

“WHAT!?” He whips around to stare incredulously at Jamil.

Jamil has his hoodie up, finding the kitchen window extremely interesting to watch right now.

"Jamil?" Azul sounds concerned. "Are you all right? I'm sorry, I... I thought it was alright to mention..." his voice fades out uncertainly.

"It's fine," Jamil says, his small voice trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Wow, that windowsill is really clean. Whoever dusted that deserves a reward.

The pan sizzles.

"Oh crap," Ruggie says and turns off the stove. "A'right that's enough about Jamil's love life. Now I need y'all to see if this is good enough for vegetable-hating beastmen."

He quickly finishes preparing the tacos and carries the tray to one of the tables.

"Come along, kids."

Najma tugs Jamil by his shirt and they all follow Ruggie.

Jamil ends up sitting next to Najma and across from Azul. Ruggie is sitting next to Azul and across from Najma.

He hears the crunch of taco shells and looks up to see Ruggie and Najma eating already. He sneaks a glance at Azul.

The merman is doing his best to maintain a posture worthy of an RSA student, but his eyes are cast down on his taco that remains uneaten, his fingers tapping restlessly on the shell.

Jamil, still feeling mighty embarrassed, knew that people were eventually going to find out, anyway.

He was able to break the news to Rielle and Floyd, but that was because they phrased it as a platonic date.

Meanwhile, Najma and Ruggie are both operating under the assumption that he asked Azul out in a romantic way, which isn't the case.

And yet he didn't say so and explain himself. He probably should.

But a part of him doesn't want to because he knew it'd be fruitless to convince Najma and he'd just waste his energy.

... Is that really the reason, though?

After what his little sister said, his brain begins to review the moments and signs around him. Taking a step back and viewing it from an outsider's perspective, he has to admit that he can see where she's coming from.

But does he really like Azul that way?

…

He sighs, then takes off his hood and takes a bite of the taco, chewing slowly to properly taste the flavors.

"Oh I love it," Najma says, halfway through her food. "You have nothing to worry about your cubs now."

She turns to Azul. "What do you think, Mr. Azul?"

"Hm?" Azul looks distractedly at Najma. "Oh." He takes a bite of the taco and chews it carefully.

"You've done a good job incorporating the vegetables in," he says to Ruggie. "The texture and taste complement each other, and the cilantro makes it taste more refreshing and less greasy. Though if I may, if your goal is to persuade your dorm mates to eat anything, then presentation is a significant factor. You can plate this taco with some dipping sauce at the side, perhaps even fruit slices if they aren’t opposed to that. If the dish is visually appealing, it would immediately be appetizing at first look."

Ruggie nods. "Yeah, that makes sense. They teach fine dining classes at RSA or something?"

"They do," Azul replies. "Though I learned most of my food knowledge from my mother. She owns a restaurant and pays extra attention to food presentation."

"Ooh! Can we go there?" Najma asks excitedly.

"Ah, it's underwater, so you will need to take potions beforehand to be able to breathe and survive the pressure," Azul explains. "If you're ever willing to go through that trouble, I'm sure my mother would be happy to welcome you."

"Sounds like a good summer plan," Ruggie snickers.

Najma turns to Jamil and pokes his shoulder. "Hey. Can you speak now? You're okay, right?"

"Mm-hm," Jamil hums, though he finished his taco first before saying anything further. "Tasty as always, Ruggie. I'm not sure if the visuals are too necessary, considering who you're feeding it to. Make it too fancy and your members might find it a bit alienating… and then there are those who won't care either way. They're already familiar with how your food tastes, so it's not like they need visual bait to lure them in."

"Psh, you're just saying that 'cause your meals are always brown and boring," Najma huffs, turning to Ruggie as Jamil opens his mouth in offense. "Don't listen to him. Making food look as good as they taste will get you far, I just know it!"

"Then I declare this a success!" Ruggie says, doing a voice that reminded Jamil of Riddle. "Thanks, guys. Even though it's really just Azul who helped with the actual cooking. You got a good one there, Jamil. Don't let him go."

Najma nods vigorously, chewing on her food.

Azul clears his throat. "I think Jamil is becoming quite uncomfortable with the jokes for now. Perhaps we can pick another topic to discuss, such as Ruggie's exceptional talent in the kitchen. If you have any dish you would like to have at the buffet, let me know and I'll tell the rest of the committee. I'm confident we can trust your judgment."

"I'll hold you to that," Ruggie points at him.

"Does it make you uncomfortable, though, Mr. Azul?" Najma says, undeterred. "When we talk about you and Jamil being each other's date for the Autumn Dance?"

Azul looks caught off-guard by the question. He blinks, then opens his mouth to speak—

"Oh my word!" a familiar voice cuts him off, and Jamil looks up to see Crowley approaching their table. "If it isn't RSA's very own Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul stands up and graciously holds out a hand, his standard polite smile on his face. "Sir Dire Crowley."

Crowley shakes his hand enthusiastically. "Oh how honored I am to be in the presence of a future member of the Coral Sea's royal court!"

Jamil notices that Azul tenses up at that.

"Huh?" Ruggie says. "Azul?"

"Why, yes!" Crowley turns Azul and holds him by the shoulders as if Crowley's presenting him to them. "You're looking at Prince Rielle Triton's royal advisor!"

Crowley lowers his voice to a conspiratorial mumble. "Because it's too early to say whether you'll be his king, hm?" he chuckles merrily, not waiting for Azul to respond. "But no matter! Whether you'll be king of the oceans or a trusted right-hand man, the important thing is you'll have a seat at the royal court! Isn't that right?" he grins expectantly under his mask.

"Yes, sir," Azul nods with a smile. But Jamil has seen his real smile plenty enough times to notice that this one is strained. His eyes are guarded, his jaw too tense.

Azul's posture is perfect, his back straight and his hands behind him. Jamil could just see from this angle that Azul is gripping his left wrist with his right hand, digging his fingernails in as he smiles in supposed agreement with Crowley.

The royal advisor? Future king?

Jamil recalls the brief conversation he had with Azul about his cafe and how hasty he was to drop it.

All of a sudden, pieces started to click together as he stares at the merman in surprise.

"Royal court?" Najma asks, innocently unaware of the hidden layer of tension. "There's a royal family in the bottom of the ocean?"

"Najma, we've been taught this," Jamil mumbles.

"We have..? Oh, right. I remember now. The Tritons! WAIT! You're associated with royalty, Mister Azul!?"

Ruggie lowly whistles. "Dang, welcome to the club."

Azul nods, his polite smile unwavering. "Yes, Prince Rielle is a childhood friend of mine."

"How wonderful, isn't it?" Crowley says. "Well, I shall leave you all to your meals now. Until next time, Mr. Ashengrotto!" he claps Azul on the back and walks away, his cape fluttering behind him.

"Can you point me to the nearest vending machine?" Azul says to no one in particular, looking around. "The taco was quite flavorful, and I should like a drink to wash it down," he gestures to his plate, and Jamil notices the blood on the tips of his fingernails.

Before Jamil could say anything, Ruggie casually gestures over to the hallway outside. "Oh, take a right as soon as you exit and then as long as you keep on walking, you'll eventually find it in a corner leading to the courtyard."

"Thank you," Azul says. "Oh, do any of you want anything from there? My treat, since you were gracious enough to feed me tacos."

"Ooh, I'd like some milk tea, please!" Najma happily chimed in.

Ruggie wrinkles his nose and waves a languid hand in the air. "Any drink's fine, s'long as I don't have to pay for it."

Jamil did not know what to say as he's still trying to figure out a strategy, so he just shakes his head. "M'good..."

Azul nods. "All right, I shall be right back." he turns and leaves the cafeteria.

"Why did you say 'welcome to the club' earlier to Azul?" Najma asks Ruggie. "Are you associated with royalty?"

Ruggie begins rambling about Leona, and Jamil notices that Ruggie doesn't seem to mind talking about him anymore, but he's too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention.

At some point, Jamil realizes that their chatter has stopped, and he glances up to see them staring at him.

"Well?" Najma asks, lacing her hands under her chin.

"Well what?"

"Are you gonna go and chase after him?"

Jamil squints at her in suspicion. "And why would I do that?"

"Hello? He's set for marriage with a sea prince when YOU have been harboring feelings for him! Are you just gonna let him run away!? Go!"

Jamil scoffs, willing to spite his sister by staying rooted in his seat when he suddenly notices Ruggie's expression.

"You should talk to him," Ruggie gestures with a jerk of his head, looking serious as he taps his nose. "My nose never lies and I smelled metal on his hands when he left. You know something we don't, so go. I think he needs it."

Jamil stares at the hyena before making a nod and standing up to head over to Azul.

"Huh? Wait, what's going on?" Najma asks after she watches her brother leave the room entirely.

"Drama talk, lil' Viper, the hallmark of a true romance," Ruggie grins, slipping back to his easygoing nature.

"Drama talk? My brother!?" Najma remarks, incredulous, before standing up from her seat. "Have you met him, Mister Ruggie!?"

The hyena shrugs. "I know, I know, but take it from me, Jamil ain't that bad at it."

Najma slowly sits back down, looking genuinely doubtful. "Okay... But if they take too long, we're gonna go look for them, alright?"

Jamil goes to the direction of the vending machine that Ruggie mentioned, hoping that Azul really did go there.

He sees him in front of it, hands in his pockets and staring at the machine with an expression too serious for someone who just wants to wash down a taco.

Jamil silently comes up to him, not bothering to hide his presence.

Azul doesn't notice. He's still staring at the glass of the vending machine but not making any movements to purchase anything.

Jamil takes a deep breath.

Then softly, he announces himself. "Hey, you."

Azul gets startled and looks at him. He blinks, and in an instant his posture is proper. That strained smile is plastered on his face again.

"Jamil. Have you changed your mind about the drink? Which one do you want?" Azul looks at the array of options.

"What do I want?"

Jamil leans against the vending machine, hands in his hoodie's pockets as he gives Azul a concerned look.

"I want to hear how you're doing. I can see when you're faking it, you know."

Azul looks conflicted for a moment, then he purses his lips and averts his eyes.

"I'm…" he sighs. "How are you so sure? This is only the fourth time we've even seen each other."

"I know what it's like to put on airs for other people," Jamil replies, then continues more quietly, "Besides, I've gotten to see for myself what a real smile looks like on your face. So…"

Azul meets his gaze, and for a moment there's a glimpse of that real smile.

"There it is," Jamil points out, feeling himself grin, too.

A small laugh bubbles out of Azul, and his shoulders relax. "I think… I just want some time to be… not what everyone expects me to be."

"Then let's do just that," Jamil says encouragingly. "If there's anything NRC's done for me, it's given me the space I needed to do what I wanted to do, so tell me, Azul... What do you desire the most at this very moment?"

Azul furrows his eyebrows in thought, chewing his bottom lip. "I'm not sure, exactly… That sounds bad, doesn't it?" he chuckles softly. "Um… Perhaps I should decide on which drink I want first. And I don't want to keep Ruggie and Najma waiting for theirs."

Jamil shrugs, content to have hopefully at least nudged him in the right direction.

He patiently waits next to the merman as he deals with the machine.

Azul straightens up with four drinks in his arms and hands one to Jamil.

He looks down at the bottle and sees that it's blond roast coffee.

"I remember that it's what you had at the cat café," Azul says. "I thought you might still like it."

"Indeed. My tastes haven't changed since then," Jamil quips. "Thanks. What did you get? Same drink as what you got in the café, too?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, just sparkling water. I don't wanna get something with a lot of calories. Shall we get back to the others?"

Jamil nods. "Let's."

But as soon as they round the corner, they run into Najma and Ruggie, who are trying to look as casual as possible.

"Oh, heeeeeeey, you two!" Najma greets. "We were… uh… just on our way to check up on you! You were taking a while!"

"Ah, my apologies for taking too long," Azul says, handing milk tea to Najma and fruit juice to Ruggie. "Shall we get back inside?"

Jamil squints at the both of them as they receive their drinks, then he relaxes, deciding to let it go for now.

"Actually, why don't we walk around?" he asks Azul and Najma. "Ruggie and I can show you a lot of NRC's facilities that no mere tour guide can provide. What do you two think?"

"That sounds lovely," Azul smiles.

"Oh sure," Najma turns to Ruggie. "He won't be a tour guide for me but when it's for Azul…" she shakes her head and gives Ruggie a look that says, "Can you believe this guy?"

"Ah, young love," Ruggie teases.

Jamil rolls his eyes, ignoring them to walk on ahead.

He leads them out of the main campus building, and as they walk along the steep steps to the lower cliff area, he turns to Azul. "Ah. By the way, what did you and Jade talk about?"

Azul adjusts his glasses. "Jade informed me that he remains the sole member of the Mountain Lovers Club, and he wants to promote it so that more of your schoolmates would be encouraged to join.

I suggested that he put up some sort of shop in Octavinelle, since it would be easier to manage if it's just in his dorm. He mentioned his fondness for mushrooms, and that he could pick them and other various plants when he goes hiking for his club activities. So I proposed that it might be good to cook those mushroom dishes for his dorm mates, perhaps even sell them eventually, and to other students as well if he has the time and manpower for it.

He seemed to like the idea so far, and he said he'd be interested to pursue it and ask for further consultation down the road. I asked him why he didn't just collaborate with his Prefect, especially if it would give funds to their dorm as well. Jade said that his Prefect is too… carefree for his liking."

"... Huh. Interesting," Jamil mutters. This is the first he's ever heard of Jade's own hobbies. It says a lot that he's willing to consult Azul about it of all people. "Guess he went to you for help then because of your business acumen."

Plus there was cooking once more. Azul really likes the idea of setting up a catering business, even if he seems to deny himself of that.

"Do you guys have any Masterchef programs back in RSA?" Jamil asks.

They've gone past the staircase and are now making their way to the windmills and hilly fields to the west of campus.

"We do," Azul replies. "I joined last year because the theme was baking, and it was something that I didn't have much experience with. It required significantly more precision compared to cooking, and it was quite the fun challenge to tackle. How about you? Have you joined any similar programs here?"

Jamil nods, before gesturing to Ruggie as well. "Both of us, though we joined on different themes. I was doing Seafood and Ruggie dealt with Eggs."

"The best part about those programs is the leftovers people make and leave behind," the hyena grins.

"Most of our ingredients are either locally cultivated," Jamil nods to the windmills and the chicken coop nearby. "Or bought from Mr. S's shop."

"Have you been inside Sam's joint, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, noticing how she's looking around the area. "Where did yer teacher even tour you around?"

"We went to Mr. S's, yeah," Najma nods. "And before that, our teacher showed us the different areas where club activities happen. We caught the Equestrian Club in their practice, it was so cool! I wanted to see the Board Game Club, too, but they weren't in their classroom earlier."

"Oh hey, I think they might be there now," Ruggie checks his phone for the time. "I was hanging out with Ortho earlier and he said that he had to get back to Idia because Board Game Club activities would be starting. Whaddaya say, fellow tour guide?" he turns to Jamil. "Should we take lil' Viper out to see the Board Game Club?"

Jamil shrugs. "Fine by me. It's Idia who I worry about. Dunno if his heart can take new strangers."

He leads them over straight to the club room, clearly unbothered by the prospect.

When they arrive, the club members are separated into small groups, playing different board games on tables placed around the classroom.

"Greetings!" Ortho zooms in front of them, hovering and waving his hand as a greeting. "I see we have new visitors!"

"Hey, Ortho," Ruggie gives him a high five. "This is Najma, Jamil's lil' sis. And this is Azul, Jamil's… I dunno."

"I have met Azul Ashengrotto, yes!" Ortho nods enthusiastically. "Hello again!"

"Hello again, Ortho Shroud," Azul smiles.

"Oh neat, you know each other," Ruggie says.

"Whoa, are you a robot?" Najma asks in fascination, looking at Ortho up and down.

"You may call me that, yes," Ortho says. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Najma Viper! Is there any board game you'd like to see?"

"Hmm, do you have mancala here?" Najma looks around.

"Searching the web for information about 'mancala'," Ortho stays still while a series of beeps could be heard somewhere from him. "Information acquired! We don't have that exact game, but we have materials we can use as a passable substitution. Shall we proceed?"

"Heck yeah!" Najma runs off with Ortho to one of the vacant tables.

Idia appears, looking down at his tablet. "Hey Ortho, have you seen the—"

He looks up and sees the three of them. "Eep!" he jumps back, putting up his tablet to hide his face. "It's Mr. Jamil and his handsome love interest from the rival school," he mutters. "Why am I in this scene?" He peeks above his tablet to look at Ruggie. "Why did you bring them here?" he says in distress.

"Showing Jamil's handsome love interest around," Ruggie replies. "Careful, Idia. I might think you're the one crushing on our guest here."

Idia shudders. "N-Not a chance. Sparkly guys and gloomy shut-ins like me don't mix. A-Anyway, now that you've seen the club for yourselves, you can go now, right?"

He looks around, spots Ortho and Najma playing, and groans. "You gotta be kidding me. You're staying, and who's THAT?!"

"My sister," Jamil replies. "Her school is conducting a fieldtrip here today."

Idia shrinks into a crouch so that he won't be seen. "A-Ah… I should've figured. You guys got similar-looking f-faces."

"No, we don't," Jamil frowns, confused. "Anyway, looks like we're gonna be here for a while. Hope you don't mind."

"And what if I do?" Idia stammers.

"We'll stay here longer," Ruggie snickers. "Might as well find ourselves something entertaining to do while we're here."

"Is that The Game of Life?" Azul says with interest, pointing to the open board game at a vacant table.

"Y-Yeah," Idia says. "Do you play that?" he asks in a small voice.

"I used to, but it's been a long time." Azul approaches the table. "May I?"

"Huh? Uh, s-sure," Idia says.

Azul picks up the dice and throws them on the board with a flick of his wrist. Each die lands with the six side facing up.

Azul's face brightens as he chuckles. "Still got it."

"Whoa!" Idia hurries towards Azul, forgetting his shyness for a second. "How'd you do that? That's gotta be luck, right?"

Azul just smiles and picks up the dice again. He throws them, and the sides with the six dots are facing up once more.

"NO WAY!" Idia picks up the dice and inspects them. "Did you rig these? What spell is that?"

Azul chuckles and shakes his head. "I used to play this, and there was a time when I practiced how to throw the dice so that they would land with my desired numbers facing up. It took a long time and a lot of math and wrist cramps, but I eventually figured it out," he says proudly.

Idia's jaw drops as he stares at Azul. "That's like, mega-obsessive geek behavior. You played this game a lot?"

Azul nods. "Indeed. Do you like this game as well? Perhaps we can play some time," he smiles at Idia.

Idia falls quiet, and his face goes red and he scurries away, hiding behind Ruggie with his tablet covering the lower half of his face.

"Th-th-there're other games here," he gestures to the other tables. "If you wanna check out any more," his voice fades out and he shrinks behind Ruggie's shoulder.

"Who do you play these dice games with?" Jamil asks Azul, quirking up an eyebrow. "They must feel like quite the unfortunate sap facing against you."

"Rielle," Azul says. "We discovered this game in our freshman year, and I didn't like that I had so little control over the outcome of the dice. He said that it really is up to chance, and I took that as a challenge," he said smugly.

"Like RSA Rielle?" Idia says in surprise, appearing behind Ruggie. "You just casually play board games with the mega-protagonist crown prince?"

"Not anymore," Azul shrugs. "A mega-protagonist crown prince does get busy with princely duties, and I haven't had much free time as well."

"Then consider this a good opportunity to let loose before it's back to busywork," says Ruggie. "Knowing that the chance and dice games can be rigged crosses them outta the list, what sort of board games do you like to play?"

"Hmm," Azul hums thoughtfully. "I like Clue. And Monopoly. Though both games take a long time to play. How about you two?" he looks at Ruggie and Jamil.

"Eh," Ruggie shrugs. "Board games don't really fill my pocket with pay so I don't really dabble on 'em. I heard some really old ones can fetch ya a pretty penny, though!" His eyes begin to roam the club's belongings with greedy interest.

"Ahem," Jamil gives the hyena a pointed look before glancing back at Azul. "Playing either sounds fine with me. Just so you know, I'm not gonna lose so easily."

A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips. "Good, it wouldn't be fun otherwise."

"Ugh," Ruggie makes a disgusted sound. "You two don't mind if I don't join you, right? I don't need to be around all this unresolved sexual tension," he gestures with his hands as if indicating something in the air.

"What are you gonna do, then?" Jamil asks. "Those games work better with more people."

Ruggie shrugs. "I dunno. I'll roam around and see if any game interests me."

He walks away and begins looking at the different games that the club members are playing.

"I've never played mancala before," Azul offers. "From what Najma and Ortho are doing, it looks like it only needs two people. Would you mind teaching me?"

"Oh. Well, sure, if that's what you want," Jamil replies. "Like Ortho said, we have to find some substitutes for it first."

And so they do, cobbling up "shells" with the use of dice and bowls after getting (reluctant) permission from Idia.

From there, Jamil lays down the ground rules and the objective of the game, teaching Azul with a calm demeanor and a small demonstration.

Azul understands the game well enough, and they start playing. As he's moving the makeshift shells around the board, his sleeve hikes up a little and reveals the crescent cuts on his wrist from his fingernails. He notices it—Jamil could tell from how he paused for the briefest second and his eyes widened—and smoothly switches the pieces to his right hand and continues his turn. But that only revealed his blood-tipped fingernails, though the amount of blood was little enough that he doesn't seem to know it was there.

"Have you played this game a lot with your sister?" Azul asks casually.

Jamil goes to tear his gaze away from Azul's hand and musters an answer, voice a little tense.

"Right, um… We'd play every once in a while, but then she'd get fed up with losing all the time and find another game that I'd be unfamiliar with or come up with extra rules in the hopes of giving me a handicap."

From nearby, Najma can be heard yelling out in defeat. "I should've known better than to challenge a robot in a game of strategy!"

"Seriously, what is the appeal of this thing?" Ruggie says, sidling up to a pair of students who were engaging in a battle of chess. "I keep getting roped in to play this only to get my ass beat. Oh shit, your horse is vulnerable to that bishop over there."

"Hey! No backseating!" one of the chess players snarl.

"And it's a knight, not a horse!"

"It's a piece in the shape of a horse, what's it matter?" Ruggie scoffs.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Jamil feels tense as he plays the game with Azul at a quiet pace.

Then, as the merman's fingers cross over to Jamil's side in the middle of his turn, Jamil reaches out and gently takes Azul's hand, bringing his blood-tipped nails under close scrutiny.

His expression is contemplative, before he glances up to meet Azul's gaze and quietly asks, "How're you holding up now?"

Azul tenses up when he realizes what Jamil has been looking at on his fingernails.

He averts his eyes for a moment before meeting Jamil's again with a small smile. "Better now, thank you. I didn't realize I'd…" he nods to his fingernails. "I wasn't aware… Does everyone else know?" he asks quietly.

Jamil's thumb lightly brushes against Azul's knuckle. "Only Ruggie. Can't disguise the smell of blood against a beastman, after all… Are you worried he or I would tell anyone?"

Azul lightly shakes his head. "I’m not. It's just, apart from Rielle, no one has really seen me be… vulnerable like this. I'm not entirely sure how to act… Or how to feel."

"... What are you unsure about?" Jamil asks, trying to be careful in his questions as he lets go of Azul's hand to resume play. He looks around to make sure no one had noticed them pausing and whispering to each other.

Azul takes a breath and continues playing, speaking quietly. "If people's perception of me changed, if they think that I'm not as strong or put-together as they first thought… what then? Will their treatment of me change? And if it does, what do I do?" He sighs. "Anyway, we don't have to talk about it. I appreciate you listening.”

Jamil waits until Azul has finished his turn before starting his. "And... I'll be happy to keep listening. If everything on the other side of this island is becoming too much to bear, you can always find me here. But if you want my two cents on the matter, if people think negatively of you just because you want to be yourself, without the title of advisor or future king or RSA student…"

Jamil finishes the last move of his turn, steady and sure. "... Then those people are not worth keeping around."

Azul pauses and stares at him for a moment, then he nods and looks down at the game as he takes his turn.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Azul gets quiet for a few moments, then adds in a lighter tone, "You know, Jamil, it seems like you're always the one listening to my woes and offering to help. I'd feel more comfortable if I could do something for you in return. So if there's anything you need help with, just let me know," he meets Jamil's gaze.

Jamil tilts his head. "I think you've already been doing plenty of helping on your part. You listened to me just like this the previous times we hung out, so if anything, I'm just following your example. But hey…" He grins. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Here's an idea, if everyone keeps bothering you with expectations over there, just do what I did: go to NRC. Maybe it's not too late for a transfer."

Azul looks surprised, then he blinks at Jamil. "Hm, I'd never considered that before. Although," he smiles in amusement, "some of your schoolmates might be opposed to that idea. I'd only been here for less than a day and your spritely resident was already trying to kick me out."

"Buuuut let's not forget the way people reacted when we came back to the cafeteria," Jamil reminds him. "Whatever happened there, I have it on good assumption that they're not gonna try anything funny again for a while. Come on… You can set up your own catering lounge here and everything, give the cafeteria a run for its money."

Azul stares at Jamil, then he says playfully, "When we first came up on that stage and did the obligatory handshake at the start of the quiz, with your death grip and hardened expression, I never would have thought that you'll be persuading me to spend more time in your vicinity."

"What can I say? You're pretty good at changing minds, Ashengrotto," Jamil chuckles. "And if you can sway us stubborn fools here in NRC, maybe the same can be done for the rest of the people you surround yourself with."

Azul raises his eyebrows and lets out a laugh of disbelief. "And how ever did I change your mind? Did you like the beach cove that much?"

"It was during the cat café that I began to see you in a different light. It's true that you're more pleasant and nicer than the company I keep," Jamil gestures with his head to the situation behind Azul, where Ruggie's running from the chess players after popping a piece in his mouth out of spite, while Idia is crouching under a desk to hide and Ortho's ignoring the ruckus to play a luck-based game with Najma instead. "But I've begun to think that that may not be a bad thing."

He shoots Azul a playful narrowed glare. "Ah, but I still got a reputation to keep here, so they're free to think whatever they like about you and I hanging out together as long as you don't spill how sappy I get when talking with you."

Azul looks down and laughs, his cheeks becoming a bit pink. He clears his throat and looks at Jamil.

"And what reputation is that, Viper? Are you supposed to be an aloof and mysterious figure here?"

"Hah, pretty much. Also clever and capable and composed, but unfortunately, I feel like you've already seen past all of it," Jamil snickers, then glances down at the board, now emptied except for both far ends. "In the meantime, at least you haven't beaten me in this just yet."

"You are clever and capable and composed," Azul says, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think people would stop seeing you that way, no matter who you hang out with."

"But they also think I'm constantly ready to stab someone in the gut if they go so far as to look at me wrong, which I'm perfectly okay with, and yet…" Jamil leans back in his seat, too. "It's gonna be hard maintaining that reputation when your… energy is infectious. When you smile... really smile… how can I not smile along? Now I still haven't decided if it's a virus RSA students carry or… if it's just you bringing that out of me."

Surprise is evident in Azul's eyes, and he's blushing even brighter. He looks down and chuckles shyly. "So you… You really don't mind that people know about us… hanging out?" He looks at Jamil again, and Jamil senses in his tone that he was going to say something other than 'hanging out'.

Jamil's gaze softens. "I had to wrap my head around it for a bit when my own family member started joking around, but… No. No, I don't mind at all." 

"Sevens," Idia says in the distance, utterly baffled and muttering to himself. "They've been staring at each other several minutes after their game has already concluded… Can't be me, fr fr." 

Azul's posture relaxes and he smiles. "I'm glad you don't. Because… I've recently discovered that there is an aviary in town. And I was wondering… Perhaps you'd like to go there with me?"

Jamil blinks at him, shock blooming on his face.

"Huh? Is this… because of the bird thing I mentioned?"

"Yes," Azul smiles sheepishly. "You're not allowed to keep a pet bird here so I thought, perhaps we could go to them instead. But, it was just an idea, we don't have to, forget I said anything," he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"Hey, hey, let's do the forgetting once you've actually heard me reject you now," Jamil jokes, knowing full well he'd say the same thing in Azul's shoes. "And there's no rejections from me here. It's, well... I'm definitely looking forward to it." He smiles, both genuinely excited to see birds yet also embarrassed that Azul even bothered to remember and do something to make him happy.  "But first, what's your reason for continuing to hang out with me?"

Azul raises an eyebrow. "You don't hear me asking such questions. Even when you've been persuading me to move across the island just to be in the same school as you," he says jokingly.

"Whoa, I didn't say that just because I want to be with you. I was also suggesting it for your own personal interests," Jamil defends, only to realize a moment later that he had just admitted that he wants Azul to transfer to spend more time with him.

Jamil clears his throat. "Besides, I think I already told you that I enjoy your company, so going along with invites like these feels natural, doesn't it?"

"... It does," Azul holds his gaze. "And… I want to keep hanging out with you because…" he shrugs lightly. "You make me really happy. You say that you smile when I smile genuinely, but… you should know that just being with you is enough to make that happen. And I really like seeing your smile, too. It suits you."

…

Jamil tries to keep that steady reassured look on his face, but his darkening cheeks and his fingers itching for his hood gives much away.

"Okay, srsly, guys, no PDA allowed in the Board Game Clubroom. What are you trying to do? Rub it in our faces?" Idia groans, though he's still doing nothing to physically put an end to it. "Also can someone kick Sir Ruggie out already before he starts eating up our game pieces?"

"I'm on it, brother!" Ortho salutes, hovering up and pausing at Azul and Jamil's side. "Will you two be accompanying Mister Ruggie and Miss Najma in their departure?"

"Oh, we could, yes," Azul says. "We've completed our game, after all." He looks at Jamil. "Shall we go with them?"

Jamil nods and begins to stand. "All right, let's."

He glances out to the windows. "Are you needed back at RSA anytime soon?"

Azul shakes his head. "No. I have until 5 PM until I need to go back. How about you? Do you have any plans since today is a half day for you?"

"Nah," Jamil says. "My plans had been to meet up with you, which now evolved into me being an advanced tour guide."

As they exit the room, much to the club members' relief, he then turns to his companions and asks, "So, where do the visitors wanna go next?"

"Can we look at the horses again?" Najma asks excitedly.

"Club activities are prolly done now," Ruggie says. "But we can still go to the stables."

Najma turns to Jamil with a hopeful grin. "Do you think I can ride a horse?"

Jamil gives her a stern look but sighs. "I suppose… if the club leader is still there, then we can try to ask for permission, but no promises."

"You wanna ride horses, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, acting more like a friendlier big brother than Jamil does. "What about our RSA buddy over here?"

"I do have some training in horse-riding," Azul adjusts his glasses. "Though I am a tad concerned that I might not be wearing proper riding clothes."

"Don't sweat it, man," Ruggie says. "You're fine. Let's go!"

They continue to walk under the hot afternoon sun, passing by students having picnics, jogging, or making their way to club activities.

Ruggie turns to Jamil as they're nearing the field. "You gonna want a horse, Jamil?"

"I'm not really interested in riding horses," Jamil muttered. "But I can at least be on standby to babysit these two if I have to. How about you?"

"Nah, I'll just be hanging around. Oh look Riddle's here," Ruggie says when they reach the stables. "Hey, Riddle!"

Riddle turns around from brushing his horse. "Ruggie, Jamil. What brings you here?" he glances at their two friends.

"Azul Ashengrotto?" Riddle says in mild surprise, before turning to Najma. "And I'm guessing you are Jamil's relative? I must say you're quite the interesting group," he says to Jamil.

Jamil eyes Riddle, noting his calmer demeanor compared to how he normally had been until recently.

He had always wondered how that came to be. There were rumors about it, too, but... nothing concrete.

"Hello, Riddle," Jamil greeted. "My sister and Azul are here to visit and, well... I apologize for the trouble, but—"

Najma hops up the fence a little to take a closer look at the horses, starry-eyed. "Can I ride on one of these things, Mister Riddle?"

"I do have the authority to grant you permission, but…" he furrows his eyebrows in thought then looks at all of them. "Do you all want to ride a horse? Do any of you have any experience or training at all?"

"I ain't riding, don't worry," Ruggie says. "Just here to chaperone, sir."

"I've had some experience in Knight Class," Azul says.

"Night class?" Ruggie asks in confusion. "Your evening classes teach you horse-riding?"

"Not 'night' as in 'evening'," Riddle frowns in exasperation. "Royal Sword Academy has a class elective where they can train to be a knight." He turns to Jamil. "Do you and your sister have any sort of training?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it training, but I do have experience," Jamil replies. "I'm also here to chaperone, though. It's Najma who wants to try."

"I dunno how to ride horses just yet," the girl shakes her head. "But I can start learning! Can you teach me, Mister Riddle?"

Riddle raises an eyebrow, and there's something that almost looks like a smile on his face. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can only teach you for no longer than 20 minutes, all right? I have other duties to attend to."

"Got it, Mister Riddle! Thank you!" Najma beams.

"And you, Azul? Would I be correct to assume you do not need any guidance?" Riddle asks him.

Azul smiles politely. "Indeed. I shall not be doing anything complex nor dangerous. I can assure you that I will keep the horse safe. And I would not want to take any time away from Najma's training."

Riddle nods. "Very well. If you do happen to need any guidance, perhaps you can ask Jamil, seeing as he has some knowledge of it as well."

Jamil notices how Riddle takes note of Azul's NRC blazer. Riddle looks at Jamil curiously, then turns to Najma.

"Miss Viper, if you'll follow me," Riddle leads her to one of the horses and explains that it's one of the calmest and most suited for beginners.

"Riddle's in a good mood today," Ruggie says. "Imma go ask him if he'll tip me if I clean up here and brush the horses," he jogs over to Riddle and Najma.

Jamil watches Ruggie trot away before glancing back at Azul.

"So… Knight classes, huh? Is that a mandatory part of the curriculum?"

"No," Azul shakes his head. "It's an elective, but I was expected to take it as one of Rielle's close friends. Those who surround him must be able to protect him and themselves to some degree."

Azul starts walking and looking at the horses. "Are you sure you won't be riding? What will you be doing in the meantime?"

"Watching you and Najma ride around. It's fine… Why? Do you want me to ride along?" Jamil asks, leaning against the fence.

"It’s up to you," Azul stops in front of a brown and white stallion. "I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable with the thought that I'm the one who asked you to hang out today and yet you'll merely be standing around and, in your own words, babysitting," Azul smiles at him. "I want you to have fun as well."

"Hmm… Would you show me some stuff you learned from Knight Class if I join in?"

Azul's looks caught off-guard. "It's not nearly as cool as you might think, I warn you. It might not be so different from what you've already learned as a retainer."

Jamil playfully sighs, glancing away. "Then it looks like I must continue to hone my retainer skills by keeping a watchful eye over you and Najma from here…"

"Oh come now, that's not what I meant," Azul says gently, stepping in front of Jamil. "I was just worried you'll get bored if I just prattle on about things you might already know."

Jamil looks at him once more. "Let me be the judge of that.” A part of him feels sure much of Azul's prattling wouldn't bore him, anyway. "Shall we get ourselves some horses, then?"

Azul smiles. "We shall."

After readying their horses, they mount them and begin at a trot across the hill.

Azul tells Jamil about the proper ways to hold the reins and about encouraging the horse to move or stop without hurting it or making it feel tense. Jamil already knows about most of it, as Azul had guessed, but it was a nice refresher, and nicer to listen to Azul explain it.

"Usually the basics end there," Azul says. "But in RSA, we must also learn to wield at least one weapon or shield while on a moving horse."

Azul lets go of the reins with one hand and raises his Magic Pen to demonstrate. "It's a little trickier to keep one's balance when holding something heavy–though we don't have anything like that right now so I'm just using my pen as a stand-in. A more advanced lesson is learning how to accurately shoot a bow and arrow from a moving horse. I never quite learned that one," Azul says in amusement.

"Interesting . . ." Jamil attempts to picture Azul wielding a weapon to battle. It's a strange image, but still rather intriguing. "Are people like Rielle also participating in this elective, too?"

Azul nods. "Our professors in that class have higher expectations from nobility, which is saying a lot considering their expectations for the rest of us already. Though I don't envy Rielle his more rigorous training, he does make for a rather formidable sparring partner. "

"It really does sound like training for knights," Jamil commented. "Have you guys ever been told what it was all for? If it were me, I'd suspect there to be something afoot."

"Rielle is a crown prince," Azul begins. "For people like him, it's to prepare him in case he would need to fight in actual battles for his kingdom. For people like me–those who are expected to always accompany nobility–it's so we would be able to defend them in case of an assassination attempt or any other attack. Then there are those who aspire to be knights in the future. If they receive good marks in that class, it would significantly help their applications after graduation."

To aspire for a job Jamil had been trying to get out of sounds absurd. If he ever finds those hopefuls, he'd tell them they could just swap positions. That way, everyone would be happy.

Now that he thinks about it, they remind him of that First Year, Sebek Zigvolt. Completely wild.

"So someone told you to take the elective because you were Rielle's friend?"

Azul averts his eyes and looks straight ahead. "More like they all assumed I would take it because I'm Rielle's closest friend. His father was looking forward to the both of us going to RSA, saying that the Knight Class there would be very useful to us. Most of our professors said the same thing in our first week at RSA."

Jamil gave him an unimpressed look. "... So you took it."

Azul smiles sadly, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "There is no need to sound so disappointed, Jamil. I know what I did." Then his smile changes into a friendlier one, and his voice sounds upbeat when he speaks. "Come on, I'll race you to the top of that hill. Hiyah!" he snaps the reins, digs his heels into the horse's sides, and it gallops away.

Jamil sighs and speeds along after him, taking in the breeze as he watches Azul ahead.

He supposes there's little he can do considering this is the life his friend chose.

But it's still frustrating watching him just accept it lying down.

He spurs his horse onward to keep a steady pace with Azul's, making sure not to lag too far behind but not close enough to make the other speed faster.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, Azul doesn't slow down. He turns his horse around and veers towards the obstacle course that the Equestrian Club uses for their activities.

His jaw is set and there's an intensity in his eyes as he glares ahead, leaning forward on his horse and speeding up.

Azul reaches the first hurdle, and the stallion clears it easily. They go through the course, Azul going for the more advanced hurdles, the horse leaping higher and farther, Azul ducking and dodging the wooden planks.

Jamil stays close by, briefly figuring that he doesn't want to risk the hurdles if he doesn't know how capable his horse is.

But then he manages to get a brief glance at Azul's expression, and wordlessly, he urges his steed to go for it. He's not going to let Azul take the win that easily.

Jamil's horse clears the hurdles, though the blinding glare of the sun proves to be a challenge at some points. Fortunately, the wind is refreshing enough that he can keep his focus.

As he catches up to Azul at the end of the course, he sees him clutching the reins so tightly that his knuckles have gone pale. His head is bowed down and his eyes are closed as he breathes heavily.

The horse is just standing now, but it keeps shifting on its hooves restlessly, as if sensing its rider's tension.

Jamil slows his horse down, eyeing both the rider and steed ahead of him to spot anything off. Are they injured?

"What's wrong?"

As he walks closer, he doesn't see any injuries on either of them, but Azul isn't responding, his forehead beaded with sweat.

Azul takes a sharp intake of breath and his eyes fly open, only for them to roll back in his head as his body slumps, and he begins to slide off the horse.

"Whoa!" Jamil hisses, dashing forth to catch him before he completely slid out. "Azul!?"

Jamil has one hand around Azul’s shoulders while he leans limply against Jamil’s chest, remaining seated on his own horse.

It's difficult having to calm both horses at once, but Jamil isn't a stranger to calming down animals.

Hooves sounded in the distance, and Jamil looks to see Riddle and Najma on horses quickly approaching them.

"What happened?" Riddle asks when they reach them, his eyes falling on Azul’s unconscious form against Jamil. "Let's set him on the ground, we can't risk him falling off and breaking his neck."

Riddle takes out his Magic Pen and gently levitates Azul and places him on the grass.

Ruggie runs up to them, holding the brush that he’s been using for the horses. "Whoa! What happened to him?"

"Is he injured?" Najma asks worriedly from her horse.

Jamil hops off his own horse and states, "Stand back" as he tries to figure out what's wrong.

Azul's pulse is racing, and his skin is feverish to the touch. At the very least, Jamil doesn't see any cuts or bruises.

Then Azul's eyes flutter open, and his face cringes as he puts a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"A heat stroke, maybe," Jamil mutters, moving to shade Azul from the sun shining overhead. Despite his worry, he maintains a calm composure. "How're you feeling? Can you sit?"

"Were you not aware you were feeling unwell before you decided to ride a horse?" Riddle asks, frowning.

Azul sits up with a grunt. "I wasn't feeling unwell at all. Though perhaps it wasn't a good idea to exert myself so much on a hot day without wearing breathable clothing. Merfolk don't exactly thrive under the sun."

He glances up in confusion. "Isn't it raining, though? I thought I heard something… dripping…" he closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it, then opens his eyes again. "Never mind. I must have imagined it."

Riddle tenses up at Azul's remark.

Ruggie suddenly kneels down next to Azul. "You haven't been using your magic just now, have you? Where's your Magic Pen?" he asks, almost in a panic.

Azul furrows his eyebrows and shows his pen to Ruggie. "I haven't been using my magic. Why?"

Ruggie inspects the magestone on Azul’s pen, then sighs in relief. He falls silent, shakes his head, and stands up again beside Riddle while averting his eyes.

Riddle gives Ruggie a curious look, his frown deepening. He turns to Azul.

"We should have you checked at the infirmary. As the person who gave you permission to get a horse and use this area for riding, this is my responsibility. I shall return Najma’s horse to the stables and then we shall head out.” Riddle is looking at Azul and Jamil imperatively, letting them know that there is no room for arguments.

Azul sighs. "All right," he stands up and brushes dirt from his clothes.

The Viper siblings throw each other a look of concern before Jamil helps Najma off her horse and they both follow.

"Can we come, too? I was the one who wanted to go horse-riding, after all. If I'd known…" Najma asks, nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"Oh, it's all right, Young Viper," Azul says with a kind smile, gently patting Najma on the head. "It was my decision to go horse-riding myself, and none of us could have predicted what happened."

"You may come along if you wish," Riddle says. “Just be certain not to get in the way."

Both Vipers nod and they quietly wait for Riddle and Ruggie to return the horses back to their stables before they head to the infirmary.

While they’re all waiting outside for Azul as the nurse had instructed, Riddle approaches Jamil and Najma, looking at the latter.

"Najma, Azul would need to be sufficiently hydrated. Would you go to the vending machine out in the corridor and buy him two cold bottles of water? You may get whatever food or drink you want as well," he hands Najma some thaumarks.

Najma straightens up and accepts the money, nodding with a determined look on her face. "Yes, Mr. Riddle!" She runs off.

Riddle watches her disappear around the corner before turning to Jamil.

"What exactly happened before he fainted?" Riddle asks, looking troubled.

Jamil looks down the hall where his sister had run off, then he turns to Riddle. "He got really into his horse-riding, as far as I can tell. He just looks like he overexerted himself, though it was pretty sudden.” He notices the crease between Riddle’s eyebrows, the worried look on his normally composed features. “You know something, don't you?"

Riddle purses his lips. "Were you two talking about anything in particular before he started on the obstacle course? I saw that he had done even the advanced hurdles."

Jamil wonders if it was wise to divulge to others something so personal to Azul, so he decides to be vague. "If you want details, you may have to ask him, but… We did have a conversation about his… complicated feelings over his situation as an RSA student."

The frown on Riddle's face remains. He turns to Ruggie, who is leaning against the wall a little far from them, lost in thought.

"Ruggie."

Ruggie startles at Riddle's voice, then he walks over to them. "Yeah?"

Riddle looks at Ruggie, as if taking the time to weigh his words before saying them.  "Why did you ask Azul if he had been using his magic?"

Ruggie looks down and shifts on his feet. "I dunno…" he mumbles.

"You're suspecting the same thing, aren't you?" Riddle says, impatience coloring his voice.

Ruggie winces as if Riddle had shouted at him, even though the Prefect had maintained his calm volume.

"I could be wrong," Ruggie says uneasily. "It was just the first thing that came to mind, that's all. Guess I'm still a little paranoid…" he rubs the bandages on his arm.

Riddle sighs and shakes his head. "This isn't good at all," he mutters.

"What? What're you both on about?" Jamil asks, glancing back and forth between the two before eyeing Ruggie's injured arm. "Wait… You're not saying this is related to… There's no way."

Riddle raises an eyebrow at him. "'No way'? Let me remind you that Overblots are supposed to be extremely rare, and yet we've had two already happen in this school in less than three months. You're not a fool, Jamil; you must have heard the rumors and pieced them together. This mindset of 'there's no way' is what has left us all ill-prepared in the first place."

Riddle starts to pace the floor, muttering. "The Headmage really should be doing something more about this…"

Ruggie snorts. "Crowley? Yeah, good luck relying on that guy for anything."

Jamil stares at Riddle. "Then it's true. You went through an Overblot, too… Wait, but what makes you think Azul's in danger of the same thing?" he points out. "Did you or Leona have fainting episodes, too?"

Riddle stops pacing in front of Jamil. "Indeed, it's true," he says grimly. "But I don't know Azul Ashengrotto well enough to judge if he's about to go through the same thing. I didn't have fainting spells, but nearing my Overblot, there were moments when… I felt myself slipping away. And then the dripping sound…" Riddle looks away, his face strained from the memories.

"It was the same thing for Leona," Ruggie mumbles. "I dunno if he heard any dripping sound, but whenever he got too upset about having to defeat Malleus, it's like he turned into a different person. He's always been a pain in the ass and his snarls are practically a part of his personality, but leading up to his Overblot, sometimes it's like he lost control of himself. It wasn't loud or anything, and I don't think anyone else noticed. But he was… different." Ruggie shakes his head. "I can't explain it."

"It's the conflict," Riddle says, his voice quiet. "There were times when I could feel the darkness growing within me. I had to fight it with every ounce of my being, and as we all know, I didn't entirely succeed…" he looks down at his hand, a distant look in his eyes. He suddenly looks up at Jamil. "In the moments before he fainted, what was Azul like?"

Jamil furrows his eyebrows in thought. The sad smile, followed by the intense (frustrated?) look in Azul's eyes. "Azul's usually what you'd expect from an RSA student: pleasant, polite, competent... But for such a capable guy, he seems to carry a sense of... resignation when it comes to his future. People expect a lot out of him, most of which I suspect he doesn't wanna do at all, and he gets a bit more morose whenever he's reminded of it."

Riddle and Ruggie exchange worried glances.

"Damn," Ruggie says to no one in particular. "That sounds awfully familiar, don't it?"

"Jamil," Riddle says urgently. "Right before he fainted, did Azul seem uncharacteristically angry or frustrated? How was he in his last few seconds of consciousness?"

"It was hard to say since he was riding ahead of me, but in the few moments I did catch a glimpse of him, I suppose he did seem a little intense. I thought he was just determined to win." Jamil responds. "Then when I was heading over, he looked like he was concentrating on something, since he was tense and had his eyes closed. Then he gasped and fainted. Does that mean anything? I figured he was getting dizzy at the time."

"Tense and concentrating?" Ruggie looks at Riddle and Jamil in turn. "Like the conflict that Riddle mentioned?"

"He could just be getting dizzy," Riddle frowns, then shakes his head in defeat. "I don't know. It's extremely difficult to determine these things, given the unfortunate lack of research on the subject. It would be better if we could also speak to Leona about this, but I doubt he would be so inclined to discuss the subject."

Riddle looks at Jamil. "To be on the safe side, do what you can to see to it that Azul doesn't repress his negative feelings so much. He must be able to talk about them and accept them. Letting such feelings fester will not be good for him, regardless of an Overblot."

"Wait," Ruggie says. "Only powerful mages are in danger of Overblotting, right? Because of how much magic they can produce? Is Azul that powerful?" he asks Jamil.

Jamil frowns. Azul's smart and strong, but Jamil can't say he's seen much of his powers firsthand to conclude anything concrete.

"I think you're better off asking the Leech twins or Prince Rielle. They have known the guy much longer, and the twins told me that Azul had a magic contract business when they were younger."

The sound of footsteps approaches, and Najma appears, holding a bag of drinks.

"I used my money for the others, Mr. Riddle," she says as she hands bottled drinks to all of them and returns some change of thaumarks to Riddle. "How's Mr. Azul?"

The door to the infirmary opens. "Better now, thank you," Azul says with a small smile, closing the door behind him. "It seems like it really was just exhaustion and the heat. I hope I didn't worry you too much.”

Jamil searches Azul's face for any sort of fabrication. He doesn't seem like he's lying, though his eyes look tired.

Then Jamil glances at Riddle and Ruggie, gauging their reactions. Are they going to tell him?

"Hey, I'm glad you're okay, Azul!" Ruggie says. "Welp, hate to have to end it on this note, but I got some chores to do at Savanaclaw, so, see ya!" he waves at them and jogs away.

Riddle straightens up and smiles at Azul. "Indeed, I am glad to see that you are well. I must get back to my dorm now. It was nice to have made your acquaintance, Azul Ashengrotto. Najma has purchased drinks for you to stay hydrated," he gestures to Najma. "Until next time," he nods to Azul and turns to leave.

Azul nods and smiles back, and turns to Najma for the drink.

Riddle pulls Jamil aside. "He's your friend," he says quietly. "You decide what to tell him.” then he leaves without another word.

"Me?" Jamil mumbles in surprise. They were the ones who saw the signs to begin with. Why're they dumping the responsibility on his shoulders?

He huffs in troubled exasperation, before turning to Azul and Najma.

"... Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Azul nods. "I am. I hope I didn't put too much of a damper on the hangout."

"Not at all!" Najma says reassuringly. "I need to go too, because my teacher is looking for me. One of my classmates just texted," she holds up her phone. "Are you really okay now, Mr. Azul?"

"Yes, Miss Najma. It was nice to have met you today." Azul says, smiling. "Take care in going back to your classmates."

Najma turns to Jamil. "Will you be okay?" she casts a sideways glance at Azul.

"Obviously," Jamil utters. "I'm your big brother, aren't I? I'd be setting a bad example otherwise. Now run along and don't get yourself into trouble."

"No promises," Najma grins and runs off.

"We still have some time," Azul says. "Any other places you wanna show me?" he smiles.

"I'm thinking we should inform one of your friends in RSA about what happened so that there's someone else there who can monitor you and do follow-ups, just to be safe," Jamil replies. "I'm surprised you still want to walk around after what happened."

Azul furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "It was just exhaustion, wasn't it? It was my fault for going through that obstacle course in such restricting clothing," he shakes his head. "Oh, speaking of which, perhaps you can direct me to your laundry room? I dirtied your blazer from when I was lying down on the grass.”

Jamil shakes his head. "There's no need. I can have that washed myself. More importantly, it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to stuff like this. What if it's got something to do with your transition into a human? Or maybe you've been lacking in sleep or food or water. What's wrong with having a friend or two keep an eye on you to make sure no further symptoms occur?"

Azul looks caught off-guard by Jamil’s remarks. "All right, then perhaps we can find a place to just sit, and you can tell me what exactly happened? I'm still a little confused…"

"How much can you recall?" Jamil asks as he leads Azul to a bench by the courtyard.

"I remember leading my horse to the top of the hill," Azul says as they sit down. "Then going through the obstacle course…?" he frowns, as if suddenly uncertain. Then something else mixes with the confusion in his expression. Apprehension? Fear?

"Hey," Jamil softly calls out to him through what he can only imagine is the darkness in his head. He reaches out to brush his hand against the other boy's fingers, holding onto them. "Talk to me. It's okay."

Azul turns to him, his tense posture relaxing gradually.

He shakes his head in confusion and looks down. "I remember being upset… at our conversation about the Knight Class. And then I was… angry? I only remember bits and pieces of the obstacle course, I don't even entirely recall deciding to go there…" his voice fades out into a whisper.

He falls quiet for a moment, looking more and more troubled. "I'd never felt such anger before, the selfish kind that urged me to do whatever I wanted, without thought for anyone else. Normally I would have asked Riddle for permission before using the obstacle course. I could have hurt the horse, too." He looks at Jamil. "How did I get on the ground? Did I fall off?"

"I caught you before you could," Jamil mumbles. "Riddle used magic to set you down after.”

"Oh, thank you. I should have thanked Riddle as well," Azul says, glancing at the direction of the infirmary before turning back to Jamil.

“You looked feverish, like you were having a nightmare…” Jamil continues. “Do you know what or who you were angry towards?"

"I don't remember why I was angry… What do you think is happening? Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Azul's eyes are looking at him with worry.

Jamil has the sense that Azul is used to always understanding everything, and this unknown situation is scaring him.

He really wishes that the ones who actually went through the experience were here. They would have explained it much better than he can.

"I don't know myself, but Riddle and Ruggie seem to recognize the signs. They think you're accumulating Blot at an unexpected rate. Ruggie was wondering if you've been using a lot of magic recently, while Riddle thinks it's got something to do with your psyche." The images of sad smiles and nails dug into skin appear Jamil’s mind. "Azul... you're more upset about your situation than you let on, aren't you?"

Azul looks at him in confusion. "My situation? What do you mean? And Blot accumulation? We have our Magic Pens to control such things, right? An Overblot hasn't been heard of in centuries."

Jamil lets out a humorless laugh. "You can say that to Riddle and Ruggie's faces. I wasn't around when it happened but it occurred to Riddle himself while a friend of Ruggie's Overblotted a few weeks later. You have to take it seriously. Those injuries on Ruggie's arm hadn't just come from a random accident and so far we've been lucky there's been no casualties yet. We're not gonna start now."

"WHAT!?" Azul's eyes widen in shock. "Two Overblots in the span of mere weeks? What did Sir Crowley do?"

Jamil pauses before he shrugs. "I don't know. As far as I was concerned, those incidents had only been rumors until they confirmed it to me personally because they were worried about you."

Azul just stares at him in surprise. Then he blinks a few times. "I see. So they both think I might be having symptoms of an impending Overblot?" he chews his lower lip in worry. "Can you ask Riddle Rosehearts if I can have his contact information? I'd like to speak with him further about it in the future."

"All right," Jamil takes his phone out. It's funny; he's had Riddle’s number since they became fellow Prefects, but he's never found reason to use it until now. He texts the other Prefect for permission to forward his number to Azul. Then he glances up at the merman. "So… Do you think their worries hold any sort of merit, or..?"

"I'm not sure," Azul says. "I'd never known anyone who has Overblotted before, and I haven't done any research about it. It still baffles me that your Headmage hasn't seem to have done anything."

Azul frowns and lowers his voice. "Now that I think about it, he was the one who had started the anger I'd been feeling today." He looks at Jamil then hurriedly says, "Oh, I apologize! I didn't mean to speak ill of your Headmage. It's just that… I think I had started to feel the… darkness… after all the things he said at the cafeteria."

"Feel free to speak ill of him as much as you like," Jamil responds. "It's refreshing to see someone so innocent understand how our Headmage's actually like. More importantly, that's the thing, isn't it? He may have said all that and unknowingly upset you, but the fact that it upset you to begin with means that this is going back a long way. I'm willing to bet Crowley's not the first person to tell you those things and he probably won't be the last."

Azul averts his eyes. "Yes. But at present, I don't see what I can do about it." He looks at Jamil again. "Are you sure this is how you'd like for us to spend our time together? I don't want to burden you with my worries."

"I was the one who asked, right?" Jamil says, reclining into as comfortable a position as he can get. "Sometimes you just gotta vent it out, and I'm pretty sure you dealt with my burdens the past few times we were together."

For the first time in a long while, Azul smiles. It's a small one, but it's not sad or resigned, and it actually reaches his eyes. He sighs. "I'm not even sure where to begin, it feels like everyone has had these expectations from me for as long as I can remember. And I know it's likely just as hard for Rielle, that's why I do stay by his side whenever I can. Why I take the Knight Class, why I'm not entirely opposed to being his advisor in the future. Ever since we were children, we've been each other's breathing room. We always knew that the other would accept us for who we are no matter what everyone else expects. I don't want to just leave him alone to deal with all of that." Azul looks down.

Jamil listens, quiet. ".... Does that mean Rielle knows about your frustrations regarding this situation, too? Or did you keep that one secret because you wanted to spare his feelings?"

Azul is silent for a moment. "I don't know how to tell him," he mutters. "I don't want him to blame himself, he already has a lot to deal with. It's easier for me to get out of RSA and find somewhere else to breathe like today. He doesn't have such a luxury. He's even busier these days with the dance coming up next week."

"But he's your friend, isn't he? Wouldn't he want to know if he or his situation is causing you distress, too?" Jamil points out.

Azul looks at him curiously. "Are you always this emotionally mature? Then why do you claim that your schoolmates see you as someone who would stab a person in the gut for looking at you the wrong way?" he says playfully.

"Because I would," Jamil hums nonchalantly. It's unclear whether he means it or not. "If you want, I can start doing that to the next 'Crowley' that tries to tell you who you have to be. Sorcerer knows I already hear enough of that spiel from the grown-ups back home."

Azul chuckles. "I must say, no one has ever offered to stab anyone for me. And, interestingly, it's one of the nicest things that someone has ever said to me. You really are special, Jamil Viper," he gazes right into Jamil's eyes.

Jamil seems to flinch in surprise at the compliment before awkwardly looking away. "... We're getting off-track. What will you do now that you're aware of the danger?"

Azul sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "The first thing to do would be to speak to Rielle. Any decision I make would affect him." He glances at his watch. "And I must be getting back to RSA now."

He takes off Jamil’s blazer and hands it to him, smiling. "Thank you for today, Jamil. It didn't quite go as either of us expected but… I'm glad you don't mind."

Jamil shakes his head as he takes his blazer. "It's all right, I…"

I'm just worried about you.

"... I just hope you look after yourself better, even if it means being selfish. Don't be a stranger now. You can always hit me up with a text. When you do, we can make up for it next time."

"I look forward to it." Azul stands up. "After all, I still have to get my revenge on you at mancala," he smiles playfully.

"And you have to apologize to the horse you rode for fainting on him without warning." Jamil stands up in succession. "I'll see you to the gate, at least. Come on."

When they reach the gate, Azul turns to Jamil.

"I'll be busy this week because of the Autumn Dance preparations. The next time we'll be seeing each other would most likely be at the dance itself on Saturday. But if you wanna talk, you can always send me a message."

Jamil nods. "The same offer extends to you. It was nice seeing you, Azul..." he says, but he still has a worried look in his eyes. "Take care, all right? Don't let everyone else tell you who you are."

A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips, and he tilts his head curiously at Jamil. "How do you feel about hugs?"

Jamil tenses up. "I'm… not really used to physical affection. That's more Najma and Kalim's thing."

Azul nods and smiles in understanding. "I'll keep that in mind. See you at the Autumn Dance, Jamil."

He turns around and walks away.

Jamil watches his slowly retreating form, knowing there's a part of him that wants to tug Azul back and embrace him.

But he hesitates.

And then the moment is gone.

"... See you at the Autumn Dance."

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been reading this lil' AU of ours! Feel free to let us know what you think in the comments! We'd love to hear your thoughts ^_^

<- Chapter 3

Chapter 5 ->

(Masterlist)

[sroloc--elbisivni]

I just needed you to know that I read all of your UY fics and I'm absolutely obsessed with them. I send them to my tmnt obsessed bf and talk his ear off about them. I send them to my friend who knows barely anything about tmnt or UY. Especially the more horror themed ones...I sent out that link to I think just everyone I talk to. But that's not what this ask is about. No, this ask is about how I patiently waited until the 22nd this month for new bunny guard and then was promptly slapped in the face by a writing choice that tickled me in such a way I was surprised I'd never once seen any content about it before. First being that Shingen was even there and second that he and Usagi are EXES. Beautiful concept, beautiful execution it knocked me right on my ass and I can't exactly explain why.

Anyways thank you so much for all the superb writing it's genuinely something I always look forward to and reread constantly. 💖💖💖

😭😭😭😭🥺💖 thank you so much for telling me you’re enjoying them!! I’m very glad :D

YEAH SHINGEN. I love the Dragon Bellow Conspiracy—I would say it’s up there as one of my favorite Usagi Yojimbo stories. Shingen and Usagi’s dynamic is genuinely so fun for me. I find the fanon bleed over from 03 that Usagi doesn’t like ninja frustrating because his friendship with these sneaky cat ninja who 1. have tried to kill him 2. drag him along when they need help on a scheme 3. regularly kiss him because it’s funny to watch him go ‘?!?!!!?’ is so much funnier. The neko ninja in bunnyguard being unionized was a later thought in brainstorming—it came up in January when I was trying to place more of the wider Usagi cast on the board and thinking “Hm the Neko ninja die a lot. That’s not very safe working conditions. They deserve to unionize.”

This is also one of my strongest held opinions on the Neko ninja in canon. you have to admit there are few professions better qualified to threaten shitty bosses. Once that existed, I figured, Shingen can be alive. As a treat for me. He’s fun, I want him here. Originally my thought was just ‘make him Chizu’s embarrassing older brother’ but then.

and the concept knocked me on my ass. A lot of the fun I have with Usagi’s side of bunnyguard is looking at the possible changes in relationships if he’s in a connected neighborhood environment instead of wandering between points in his constellation of acquaintances. So. Shingen. He and Usagi tried hooking up a couple years before story starts, but they were both too busy to make any kind of longer term dating work. They’re still friends!

[odanurr87]

Alchemy of Completed 2022 Kdramas - Part 1

Last year I watched a bunch of kdramas, too many for me to properly review at the rate I write about them. As a result, I'm gonna try something different and quickly review those dramas that released in 2022 that I watched, and maybe recommend a few alternatives here and there in those cases where the show didn't live up to the task. Considering it's been a while since I watched some of these dramas, I binged a couple of them again to better inform my commentary. If you're short on time, or just want to add kdramas to your ever-increasing watchlist, you'll find a ⭐ next to the titles I wholeheartedly recommend, and a 💀 next to those I feel should best be avoided, but you do you. If you still haven't watched some of these shows, this list will hopefully give you some idea of whether you'll enjoy watching them (or not).

A brief note on my rating system before we begin. I use bins for my 1-10 scale in the following way:

Anything between 5 and 6 is considered average

Shows between 7 and 8 are considered above average

Shows in the 9 to 10 range are the cream of the crop

Anything between 1 to 4 is considered below average, with the 1-2 range reserved for the worst offenders.

Thus, I have two possible scores for the average, above average, and cream of the crop categories, what I believe makes my life a little easier when rating shows. I have occasionally given half point ratings (e.g. 7.5) to certain shows when I feel they're halfway to a better grade, but that has been the exception rather than the rule.

So without further ado, welcome to my Alchemy of Completed 2022 Kdramas - Part 1!

A Business Proposal⭐

Episode count: 12

Where to watch: Netflix

Rating: 8/10

Verdict: "You know I'm good at a lot of different things, right?"

We start with one of my favourites and the best short romcom of 2022. Based on the manhwa of the same name by Haehwa (original story) and NARAK (art), Taemu Kang (Ahn Hyeo Seop) plays the 'perfect CEO' stereotype who ain't got no time for love so, after several hilarious events, he eventually hires Hari Shin (Kim Se Jeong) to play the part of his girlfriend to fool grandpa. Unbeknownst to him though, Hari is his employee. Will their fake relationship turn into a real one? You bet your ass!

The show ticks almost all of the required tropes, subverts some -what was a pleasant surprise- and entertains throughout, making perfect use of its runtime. The second lead couple, played by Kim Min Gue and Seol In Ah, also turned several heads, not to mention the latter had great BFF chemistry with Kim Se Jeong. Week after week, I was looking forward to every episode of this show, especially considering how disappointing another romcom that aired around the same time turned out to be, and that you may or may not find in this list. You could say this show aired just in time for Samantha and Rachel to cure my FLAWless disappointment.

Again My Life⭐

Episode count: 16

Where to watch: Viki

Rating: 8/10

Verdict: Lawful Lawyer is back!

The better Lawless Lawyer of 2022. Kim Hee Woo (Lee Joon Gi) is a prosecutor who travels back in time to put the people who murdered him behind bars while the audience wonders which female lead he should date. And between Kim Ji Eun, Hong Bi Ra, and Veronica Park Kim Jae Kyung, well, he's definitely not lacking in choices. Fortunately, time travel is merely used as a trigger to tell the story (similar to 365: Repeat the Year in this respect), so we don't have to worry about kdramas' rather abysmal track record with sci-fi. The show keeps you hooked episode after episode, finding a good balance between the scheming, putting people behind bars, throwing some punches (has those trademark LJG action sequences!), all the while going after the next big fish. Last, but not least, it does an incredibly good job at managing an ensemble cast of characters, and there are a lot of them! If you're a fan of Lawless Lawyer or Lee Joon Gi, you can't go wrong with this one.

Alchemy of Souls - Part 1

Episode count: 20

Where to watch: Netflix

Rating: 6/10

Verdict: Watch a fantasy cdrama instead

Alternatives: Fights Break Sphere, Fighter of the Destiny

When I watched the character promos for this show I thought this could be Korea's answer to some of China's fantasy dramas, possibly Xuanhuan dramas, and I was all for it! I liked the male actor, Lee Jae Wook, in other dramas I'd watched with him (he was great in When the Weather is Fine and Search: WWW), and Jung So Min playing a master assassin and mentor in a fantasy drama was quite appealing. Of course, I was a bit worried when the teaser dropped, with its emphasis on some weak comedy, but I decided to give the show the benefit of the doubt. Sadly, Part 1 didn't live up to the task. It meandered a lot, definitely under-using its 20-episode order, focusing on every romantic relationship under the sun and then some, ultimately delivering an unsatisfactory hero's journey for the ML, while the antagonists played ping-pong with the alchemy of souls. At times, I was reminded of Hwarang, a show I have reviewed very poorly and that seems to have relied on the idol factor to garner popular appeal.

I've previously compared Jang Uk's journey to that of Xiao Yan from the cdrama Fights Break Sphere, in that I expected the former, from the previews, to undergo a similar rise to power as the latter, rigorously training under his master, slowly climbing his way back to power, but with the additional appeal of developing that romantic relationship between Jung So Min's character and Lee Jae Wook's, what would've made for a more rewarding journey for both the character and the audience. This is a tried-and-true formula, also used by the popular anime The Rising of the Shield Hero, to mention but one other example. Unfortunately for us, Jang Uk can hardly be bothered to train (supposedly, he "trained" with twelve masters for years and didn't learn a damn), except at the very specific, and limited, times that the script dictates, instead relying on luck and plot contrivances to "skip ahead" his way to power, what makes for far less memorable scenes. Additionally, the cdrama nails the master-student relationship thanks to the great rapport between Baron Chen's Yao Chen and Leo Wu's Xiao Yan, but there's hardly such a bond between Mu Deok and Jang Uk.

In the end, Part 1 of Alchemy of Souls should've been about Jang Uk's rise to power under the guidance of his master, and later love interest, Mu Deok, but it's too unfocused, its attention constantly diverted by comedy, love polygons, or caricaturesque villains doing dumb things under everyone's noses. Perhaps its only saving grace was the character of the Crown Prince, brilliantly played by Shin Seung Ho, who was able to nail both the comedy and the drama when called for. However, if you're looking for a good fantasy drama with a more traditional (or any) hero's journey, watch Fights Break Sphere instead, with the caveat only the first season has been released, and it's doubtful there'll be a second. I'd also recommend Fighter of the Destiny, with Lu Han. It probably doesn't have as good CGI or sets, but it has a better grip on the hero's journey than Alchemy and nails the camaraderie aspects.

Alchemy of Souls - Part 2

Episode count: 10

Where to watch: Netflix

Rating: 7/10

Verdict: Works better as a standalone watch

I should've probably left Part 2 of the show for Part 2 of my list, but I'm going in alphabetical order so that's that. This is one of the shows I decided to rewatch to refresh my memory and, to my surprise, it fared much better the second time around. Why's that? Read on to find out!

Part 2 of Alchemy of Souls starts strong, much stronger than Part 1 did, something many were doubting when the news hit that Jung So Min wouldn't return for Part 2, instead being replaced by the original Naksu actress, Go Youn Jung. Fortunately, she does an excellent job throughout, but especially in the beginning of Part 2, which comes across as more of a fairy tale (Rapunzel's), and where the show decides to embrace some of the typical marriage contact tropes, as Young Jung's character fake-marries the now uber-powerful Jang Uk in order to escape from her mother's tight grasp. Honestly, I wish the show had started with Part 2, in media res, and used the material from Part 1 for flashback storytelling, in a similar vein to how The Untamed did it. God, that would've been so good! Precisely because Jang Uk has become sort of a demigod he can boss around all of the useless supporting characters from Part 1 (I'm looking at you, Pathetic Assembly of Evil), and pretty much do whatever he wants, so it's quite commendable to see him return smarter and more measured in his decision-making.

As someone who watched Part 2 live back then, it started to lose its initial glimmer when an inevitable reveal kept being delayed episode after episode, hinting that it would obviously occur the next one. Of course, this never happened, but what made matters worse was the fact that the ML was kept oblivious while everyone around him found out and chose not to tell him because... reasons? I can understand one person keeping the secret for his own agenda, maybe a couple, but I find it astonishing that even Jang Uk's friends and family shared this same agenda, as they also kept the truth from him. Additionally, the more this delay continued the further the narrative possibilities were constrained and, thusly, certain scenarios conjured up by fans never came to pass. However, this will not be much of an issue for people coming in blind to Part 2 (or with a healthy distance from Part 1). Perhaps even the fact that the noble idiocy card is played, or that the main antagonist is obstinately preserved by the writers until the very last episode to little effect (when he shouldn't have made it past Part 1), won't present much of an issue to newcomers.

Having said this, I still feel the final battle for the fate of the world remains rather underwhelming and anticlimactic, not helped by the fact that certain characters are resurrected right before said battle. After all, if the show outright establishes death is not permanent, minutes before "the end of the world," why should I fear for any of the characters? Even Jang Uk himself, during this final battle, doesn't show an ounce of worry that maybe this time he will not make it out alive, regardless of his powers, making the fight seem entirely mechanical and perfunctory. The writers even throw in some half-baked plot device about the King's Star being powered by seven other stars, and since it had never been explained throughout the show a character has to exposition-dump it on our laps (there's quite a lot of exposition dump going around in Part 2, what helps newcomers to the show). It's a plot device prominently featured in the cdrama Fighter of the Destiny, which I previously recommended, so maybe it was inspired by it?

In the end, if you still want to get a taste of the Alchemy experience, I wholeheartedly suggest you treat Part 2 as the original show, with Part 1 being the prequel made to cash in on the show's success that, ultimately, you may not even need. Thus, as a standalone, I'm revising my original rating for Part 2 from a 6/10 to a 7/10, bumping it into my above average bin.

Extraordinary Attorney Woo

Episode count: 16

Where to watch: Netflix

Rating: 6/10

Verdict: Better luck in S2

Alternatives: Good Doctor, Again My Life

Woo to the Young to the Woo started off with a bang and had me sold after binging its first four episodes (I had a bit of an offset), making me hopeful this could be one of my favourites from 2022. Sadly, it was thereabouts that the quality of the writing slowly started going downhill for me. Woo lost me on two fronts: the weak framing and execution of the legal cases, and the underdeveloped cast of supporting characters, who were mostly neglected in favour of Park Eun Bin's Young Woo. Don't get me wrong, Park Eun Bin nailed the character, and her conversation with her mom in Episode 8 was particularly poignant and well executed, but it wouldn't have hurt to give characters like Min Woo or Jun-ho a case that resonated with them, like "The Strife of the Three Brothers," which was relevant to Young Woo's BFF Geu Ra-mi.

I'll take Min Woo as an example because, out of the whole cast of supporting characters, he showed the most promise. The show mentions in passing that Min Woo is his family's sole breadwinner, what could explain why he's so competitive and regards Young Woo as a threat rather than a boon, but the show never tries to explore this when it has the perfect medium to do so in the form of the legal cases. So why not give him a case that echoes some of his struggles trying to support his family while making headway into the competitive legal world, thus allowing us and his teammates to get to know him a little better? In essence, show us, don't just tell us. How am I then supposed to buy his sudden change-of-heart in "The Blue Night of Jeju" when you've given me nothing to support the fact he's bonded with anyone in the team? (besides Jun-ho who was already his flatmate) Perhaps not surprisingly, this particular episode throws a bunch of arcs left and right for the supporting characters to try and grab hold of, but too little too late.

As a procedural, I feel Extraordinary Attorney Woo is pretty average. It either didn't know how or never intended to handle its supporting cast of characters and successfully integrate them into the narrative, similarly to how a show like Again My Life did. To draw a curious parallel, the final episode of Again My Life gathers all of "the good guys" at the restaurant of Hee Woo's parents. There are 14 of them in total, not counting Hee Woo and his parents, and I feel like they've truly become one big extended family by show's end. Extraordinary Attorney Woo has a similar scene, gathering everyone at Min Shik's place that is meant to convey the same feeling, but they don't quite feel like a team yet, let alone a family. Maybe in Season 2?

If you're looking for a show featuring another savant autistic lead, but with a better grasp on developing an ensemble cast of characters, as well as a romantic relationship between the leads, then Good Doctor is the show for you. On the other hand, if you're looking for a kickass lawyer, well, you probably already know who I'm talking about.

Fanletter, Please⭐

Episode count: 4

Where to watch: Viki

Rating: 8/10

Verdict: A lot of heart in a small package

The first among three shows in these lists that feature Choi Soo Young and Yoon Park as either main or supporting leads. I'd only previously watched Choi Soo Young in So I Married an Anti-Fan, a show not without its share of issues, but her as the female lead wasn't one. Indeed, she was one of the highlights and I was looking forward to seeing more of her work. As such, I was looking forward to this mini-series, more so when I realised Yoon Park would play the role of a father willing to move heaven and earth for his daughter, what is not a typical setup in kdramas (in my watching experience, mind you). Off the top of my head, I can only think of Marriage Contract and Lie After Lie as similar shows, in terms of how much of a protagonist the child actor is. Both are shows I would wholeheartedly recommend.

As for Fanletter, Please, I was positively pleased by how much content and social commentary this show was able to fit into its 4-hour runtime without harming the storytelling, something that even full-length kdramas struggle to achieve. Having said that, I would've welcomed one or two more episodes to let it breathe a little bit more and, of course, to watch some cute family moments! This is definitely a case of so good you want more of it. Still, Choi Soo Young and Yoon Park make it work within the available runtime, what's a credit to them and the script. CSY was on a roll last year (as you'll find out in Part 2!) so I'll have to keep an eye out for more of her dramas, and it was very welcome to see Yoon Park play this devoted father character after the disappointing Forecasting Love & Weather (though he was pretty good in it). Give me more short dramas!

Forecasting Love and Weather

Episode count: 16

Where to watch: Viki, Netflix

Rating: 6/10

Verdict: Couldn't forecast love and I have my doubts about the weather

Alternatives: She Would Never Know, The Rational Life

I have a soft spot for Park Min Young, having watched romcoms like What's Wrong With Secretary Kim? and Her Private Life, or even melodramas like When the Weather is Fine. And who can forget Healer, where she played the part of Lois Lane to Ji Chang Wook's Clark Kent (watch it, it's a classic). I couldn't remember a drama with her that I didn't enjoy watching, so it broke my heart a little to see what a disappointing mess Forecasting Love and Weather turned out to be. I should've heeded a friend's advice to steer clear of Song Kang dramas, even though the script was clearly the worse offender by far.

The show hooked us in with the initial romcom elements, and then decided to veer into slife/melo territory, as the relationships between the different couples started to fray, with conflict being driven at an accelerated pace by the issues that arose from poor communication, or an outright absence of it, and how the different couples handled (they often didn't) the results of their miscommunication. I didn't much mind at the time because I felt they were being somewhat mature about it without overplaying their hand, and because my weekly romcom fix was being delivered by A Business Proposal, but they were treading a fine line... that got utterly ground into dust in the last six episodes. At this point in the show, the nonsensical drama was amped considerably, to the point it could've given Young Lady & Gentleman a run for their money, setting us up for the inevitable breakup. Why? Because the kdrama gods have written that a breakup must inevitably occur in Episode 14 or thereabouts, and this show is not about to subvert that trope!

Like Extraordinary Attorney Woo, Forecasting Love and Weather failed at properly handling its ensemble cast of characters, trying to juggle five relationships to some very mixed results, when it would've been better off simply focusing on the main and secondary couples. As a result, by show's end I could've cared less what happened to the main couple, and was actually a bit more invested in the secondary one, played by Yoon Park and Yura, possibly because they at least tried to talk to each other and work things out. Honestly, Yoon Park's Ki Jun got the better deal out of all the characters in the show. How do you make Ki Jun, the guy who cheated on his fiancée with Si Woo's girlfriend, a more likable, or at least interesting, character than everyone else? You have him grow from an immature baby into a more or less responsible adult. You could argue that the main leads experience growth of their own, but it struck me as a bit aimless, a bit hollow. I mean, 16 episodes for Ha Kyung's boss to tell her you learn more from your mistakes than you do your successes? Seriously? Just go to r/GetMotivated for that.

Would I recommend this show? Unless you want to learn a little about what goes on behind the scenes of a weather forecast, not really, but maybe it's my fault for having high expectations due to PMY. It's not a bad show though, just average. If you want far better executed takes on this concept, check She Would Never Know on the kdrama side, and The Rational Life on the cdrama side.

Glitch💀

Episode count: 10

Where to watch: Netflix

Rating: 3/10

Verdict: Watching an episode of Ancient Aliens on the History Channel would've been more exciting and a lot shorter too

Alternatives: Circle

Can I get away simply by saying watching this show was a glitch? No? Dammit. I should've known better than to watch a Netflix-produced kdrama, even if it does star Nana, 'cause they've all been a bust for me, but Glitch was one of the privileged few shows I watched in 2022 that made me feel I had utterly wasted my time, with no redeeming qualities about it. 500 minutes to tell a story that lacks focus and is all over the place, perhaps stretched thin to meet a Netflix episode quota, with a FL that is not particularly interesting to follow, as she goes through a midlife crisis and teams up with Nana to investigate a UFO cult that may or may not have kidnapped her ex to sell his kidneys. Okay, maybe I made up that last bit about the kidneys.

The comedy doesn't land, the mystery doesn't land, the drama doesn't land, and the UFO doesn't land either. Undoubtedly, the finale is the better episode of the show, not least of why because it marked the ending, but also because the show didn't have any more time to dawdle as it had been doing for the past nine episodes, what gave it some much needed focus. To make matters worse, the surprises and twists at the end of each episode just weren't good enough to keep you hooked, nor, I'm afraid, were the leads. I was tempted at the time to give this show my first ever 1/10 for the way it wasted my time over the span of those 500 minutes, with a story that was infuriatingly inconsistent and lacked a lot of common sense, but it's probably not that bad. Still, I would only recommend watching it to my enemies, probably alongside something like Sisyphus.

Good Job

Episode count: 12

Where to watch: Viki

Rating: 7/10

Verdict: Good fun

Alternatives: Secret Royal Inspector

Another ENA network show, like Extraordinary Attorney Woo, but shorter and more entertaining, as we follow the crazy antics of Eun Soon Woo (Jung Il Woo), a chaebol CEO who doubles as a private detective (think Bruce Wayne/Batman), and Don Se Ra (Kwon Yu Ri), his newly-recruited superpowered assistant, as they aim to solve a 20-year-old cold case while uncovering other, smaller, cases, helping people and rectifying injustices along the way.

Good Job is just a fun ride overall, even if the comedy can be a little hit-or-miss sometimes, especially when it drags on for too long or tries the Marvel route of undermining certain scenes. The writing too could've benefited from another revision, as some events feel gratuitously delayed, like when a character refuses to reveal a certain name only to do so a few minutes later, while others are forced to a head, like Se Ra discovering Soon Woo's batcave. Oh, yeah, he has a batcave, of sorts, and even an Alfred, in the form of Lee Joon Hyuk's Director Hong, whom you may recall from Mystic Pop-Up Bar. He also has a talented sidekick and comedic support, Jin Mo (Eum Moon Suk), both a lawyer and a hacker, who also gets into a romantic entanglement of his own with Se Ra's best friend, Na Hee (Song Sang Eun). This is the mini-Justice League you'll see play dress-up (these scenes are so over-the-top fun!) from episode to episode, as they go undercover to solve cases and get one step closer to their goal. In this sense, this show could be compared to something like Taxi Driver, but, unlike the latter, Good Job doesn't take itself too seriously and neither should you for maximum enjoyment.

While the resolution of the final case felt a bit underwhelming, and perhaps a tad perfunctory (I did appreciate the brief redemption arc for one of the antagonists though), Good Job achieves in 12 episodes what Extraordinary Attorney Woo could not in 16, making its cast of characters grow into a team, one I would not mind accompanying in more adventures in future seasons. Will that happen? Probably not, so if you're looking for more fun adventures of the sort, and don't mind traveling to the past, I would not hesitate to recommend Secret Royal Inspector, with Kim Myung Soo and Kwon Na Ra.

Grid💀

Episode count: 10

Where to watch: Disney+

Rating: 4/10

Verdict: Another nail in the kdrama sci-fi coffin

Alternatives: 365: Repeat the Year, Reset, Circle

Sci-fi is one of my favourite genres, but kdramas have had a rather lousy track record at delivering good quality sci-fi and, sadly, Grid does nothing to change that. Our story starts in 1997, when a mysterious time traveler known as "the Ghost" laves a program for an energy grid to replace Earth's failing magnetic fields. This Grid is now managed by the Administration Bureau who intend to track down the Ghost and unlock the secrets of time travel... eventually. The show's comprised of only ten episodes, yet the pacing of the first half is slower than it has any right to be given the events depicted (hint: they aren't that exciting) and the dialogue isn't stimulating enough to sustain such a slow burner. This "season" could've been compressed into 5 or 6 episodes and it would've been stronger for it. Of course, then it would hardly qualify as a "season" (though Netflix seems to think it does).

The main plot line focuses around this serial killer and the fact that the Ghost is helping him evade capture. Why is this time traveler aiding and abetting a criminal? Honestly, this question was never interesting enough to fuel ten weeks of watching (the pain!) and it shows. Additionally, it is not answered conclusively, although there are some bread crumbs for the viewer to put the pieces together. In fact, this statement captures the show in a nutshell; it raises questions, but never provides any conclusive or satisfying answers, playing on the viewer's knowledge of other (better) time travel stories so they can come up with their own. Perhaps the worst example of this is the season finale, which is only meant to set up events for a possible S2 (in your dreams, or nightmares), thereby raising even more questions.

The writer behind this, Lee Soon Yeon, is apparently quite good, having written for Stranger and Stranger 2. I haven't watched either show so I can't comment on them, but time travel stories aren't for everyone. Having said that, the "mysteries" that are supposed to keep viewers hooked were also underwhelming. I remember reading an article that recommended Grid as a show that keeps you on the edge of your seat. I suppose it's possible to fall off your seat while asleep, right? If you want a show that uses time travel well, though in very limited fashion, merely as a trigger for the plot to unfold, watch 365: Repeat the Year. The cdrama Reset is a great exponent of using a time loop and one of my favourites from 2022. If you want kdrama's best exponent of sci-fi to date, watch Circle (review on the way).

If You Wish Upon Me⭐

Episode count: 16

Where to watch: Viki

Rating: 8/10

Verdict: The genie from Aladdin would be proud

First things first, there is a better version of this show if you take out the gangster storyline, which was entirely superfluous, and better integrate the sister storyline into the main plot. You can also drop the jealous doctor who added surprisingly little beyond being jealous at the required times (what a waste of a perfectly good character). Repackage it all into a shorter, 12-episode, season and this show could've reached 9-10 territory for me. Those are pretty much the weakest aspects of the show.

With that out of the way, it's a very good show. People have compared it to Chocolate given that it takes place in a hospice ward but, for my part, I dropped that show after 5 or 6 episodes, partly because of the ML. No such problem with Ji Chang Wook's character here, an orphan and ex-con with a heart of gold, and a cute dog he's named "Son." Despite all the abuse he's been subjected to throughout his life, he slowly starts to open up as he does community service at the hospice. Paired with Choi Soo Young's flirty Nurse Seo (love her!), these two alone make a powerful case for watching this show. Sung Dong Il also delivers a great performance and has some wonderful exchanges with Ji Chang Wook's character.

The show follows the "case of the week" formula for the most part, certainly during the first half of the drama, as Team Genie tries to fulfill the final wishes of the hospice's patients and often positively impact other people's lives in so doing. Be prepared and have tissues at hand. Beyond the gangster detour that wasted our time towards the end, and drew dangerously close to upending all the good will the show had garnered throughout its run, the final episode really brings it home, coming full circle and delivering a really satisfying conclusion to our story, one final surprise as Team Genie brings down the curtain on their show and bids us goodbye.

In short, yes, it could've been better with a tighter focus but, as it stands, it's one of the better shows to have come out in 2022, and perhaps Ji Chang Wook's best work since Healer (with the caveat that I have not yet watched Suspicious Partner nor Lovestruck in the City). And Choi Soo Young is now 2 for 2! (this girl's on 🔥🔥)

Jinxed at First💀

Episode count: 16

Where to watch: Viki

Rating: 4/10

Verdict: Oh, it's jinxed alright

Alternatives: My Girlfriend is a Gumiho, Goblin, Scripting Your Destiny

I had measured expectations for this drama. Na In Woo had previously worked with the same director in 2021's River Where the Moon Rises, a show I enjoyed a great deal, though mostly because it was the first time I delved deep into the history behind the drama, namely the tale of Princess Pyeonggang and On Dal the Fool, and the history of the Three Kingdoms' period. He was brought in late, with production underway, to replace Ji Soo; he barely slept, had to adlib a lot of his scenes, and still managed to have great chemistry with Kim So Hyun and, to my mind, had the better grasp on the character of On Dal. I'd hoped Jinxed at First would give him another opportunity to shine, but, alas, that was not the case.

The first episode alone is a hectic storytelling mess (and, incidentally, River Where the Moon Rises alumni reunion), rushing through a lot of backstory and setup for the rest of the season. We're introduced to Soo Gwang, a bright student with a promising future and powerful friends, whose life takes a turn for the worse when he meets Seul Bi (Seo Hyun), a woman imprisoned since birth by his best friend's dad because of her strange ability to see a person's future through a single touch. Cut to a year later, where we find Soo Gwang working as a fishmonger under a different name, only for Seul Bi to track him down again, determined to remain by his side.

Honestly, I'm not sure what genre this show wanted to be, but I'm pretty sure it failed at most of them. For the first 6 or 7 episodes it tried to resemble something like My Girlfriend is a Gumiho, as Seul Bi is just as innocent and naïve as Miho was (even if Miho sold it better than Seul Bi did, to my mind), and both male leads were resolved to get rid of her. This is perhaps the strongest portion of the show, as Seul Bi adapts to her new environment and neighbors, making new friends while at the same time helping Soo Gwang get rid of his (never explained) bad luck. I even enjoyed some of the comedy. However, unlike My Girlfriend is a Gumiho, there is not enough chemistry between the leads to have them fall in love with each other over the course of 6 or 7 episodes. Well, not in Soo Gwang's case at any rate, as Seul Bi has been infatuated with him for years. Upon falling in love, the trope that naturally follows is a break-up, after which point the show starts to resemble more of a makjang, turning to corporate and chaebol intrigue and infighting. This is also around the time Soo Gwang's best friend, Min Joon (played by Ki Do Hoon, from Scripting Your Destiny), decides he's in love with Seul Bi (what?), something even more out of left field, especially when he's already engaged to Lee Ho Jung's (Soljiwan!!!) charming character, Ja Kyung, who effortlessly stole every scene she was in. Min Joon, if you don't want her, I'll gladly take her off your hands!

Seemingly having exhausted the depth of its narrative well, the show dragged its feet for several episodes, eventually deciding the story was better served by turning a character into a psychopath, who also wanted Seul Bi for himself and was willing to kill anyone in the process, an eye-rolling set of circumstances eventually resolved thanks to Seul Bi's expansive (aka nonsensical) repertoire of supernatural powers. And, of course, in a show of this caliber, the amnesia trope could not be absent, a card that is dealt in the very last episode and resolved at the very last minute. What a payoff.

When I first learned of this drama I recall reading an outline that went something along the lines of, "Unlucky man meets a goddess of luck." Would it have been too much to ask for a show fitting that description, but in the vein of the excellent Goblin instead? Or maybe something like Scripting Your Destiny, which is certainly not as good as Goblin, but is still way better than this, and much shorter too. If you want to watch a show that features a romantic relationship between a god and a human, I encourage you to give those a try instead, as well as the aforementioned My Girlfriend is a Gumiho.