#(ironically it used to be that i always ditched on one of her days but now i feel less stressed abt them. so it's fine now 🫡)

[daz4i]

it's been awhile since i was in any production i forgor how much of it - esp when you're close to the end - is just. doing the same things over and over again. maybe changing outfits sometimes. Man

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[sarahreesbrennan]

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[yerimbrit]

i saw a ghost! with MC kkura : m. sakura

synopsis: miyawaki sakura didn't believe in ghosts. but she did believe in friendship—that was why she was sneaking into her old highschool with her friends. but then she gets ditched by the two in the "haunted" unused art room, meeting the resident ghost: you.

# : pairing ! nonidol!miyawaki sakura x ghost!reader

# : tags ! fem!reader, sakura's a second year in college, the other two are freshmen, crack, angst, fluff, contains an uncanny amount of video game mentions, red velvet seulgi cameo, i will personally make it my mission to enforce the luvie sakura agenda in every fic she's mentioned, switches between 2nd and 3rd person sometimes

# : wordcount ! 9.5k

# : warnings ! mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, there's a satanic ritual at the end(?), explores some themes of grief, do not try this at home i made it all up

sakura was a firm non-believer of ghosts.

she thought people who claimed to have seen one were stupid, and were just looking for attention or views or whatever. no, yujin, you did not see a ghost in the corner of your room, because you just came back from the last day of your soccer tournament and you were playing for all three games. obviously your fatigue-clouded, sleep-deprived ass would hallucinate.

"i swear i saw it," her friends would say.

"and i swear you had three exams to study for on that same night," sakura would reply. "ghosts aren't real."

that was precisely what she had told yunjin and chaewon. nevertheless, the two idiots dragged her to the highschool that sakura thought she wouldn't ever have to see again.

she was pushed by yunjin, towards the gate that acted as the first obstacle they'd have to overcome in order to even reach the supposedly haunted room. "unnie, you go first!"

sakura whined, shoving the taller girl in front of her. she didn't believe in ghosts, but the school was still creepy at 3am on the weekend. "we have to jump the gate, you're taller so you should go first!"

yunjin was always the more athletic of the three, followed by chaewon and then sakura. it was times like these where sakura wished she spent a little more time out of her room, and not playing league or overwatch. loser games, as chaewon called them. she only said that because she was bad at them, though.

"but you're the oldest," chaewon added.

sakura was, once again, pushed towards the intimidating black-barred gate. who even used these kinds of gates anyway? it's like, 2024, everyone's went to ring alarm systems and upgraded security systems.

the japanese sighed. she could've been doing anything other than sneaking into a highschool after midnight, like finishing her third playthrough of resident evil 2 or getting her five star island rating in animal crossing. "yunjin, help me out here. you're the tallest, so you should give me and chae a boost, at least."

without warning, she was lifted into the air by the american, causing her to let out a yelp. "damn it, yunjin! i said give me a boost, not give me a death hug!"

"just hurry up and climb the gate!"

sakura grumbled, but obliged. the iron bars were sharp at the ends, so she tried to avoid touching them in fear of stabbing her hands, opting to hold onto the middle parts of the bars and relying on boosting herself up with her feet on the bars placed horizontally. after a few deep breaths, she was able to swing herself over and land on the other side of the gate.

okay. that was kind of sick. sakura felt like she was in mirror's edge or something, envisioning the gate as a tall building and finally feeling good about herself. except that moment was ruined when the two idiots behind her started playing around while trying to get chaewon over. just before she was going to turn around and smack them, they took their places beside her, yunjin and chaewon on her left and right respectively.

and so, they began their mission: find a ghost in the unoccupied art room.

if sakura thought just being outside on campus was creepy enough, being inside the school itself was way creepier. it was dark, too dark inside, and the trio's sole source of light was this dusty old lantern that they had found in chaewon's garage. it flickered on and off half the time. sakura hated it. but yunjin said it added to the "spooky vibe" and despite chaewon's initial protest, she ultimately agreed to use it. damn it, you down bad girl.

"it's so ominous in here," the shorter girl remarked, holding onto the japanese's arm for dear life. yunjin tried to put on a brave face, but her whole body was shaking as she gripped the older girl's sleeve.

"don't worry! i'll p-protect you, chaewonnie."

"you know, you'd sound a little..." sakura grimaced as she heard a cracking noise somewhere in the vicinity, "...more convincing, if you weren't shaking in your boots right now."

eventually, they made it to the supposed art room, and stood in front of the door, waiting. why were they waiting?

"you... you should go in first!"

"yeah, you go in! you've b-been so... undeterred today, unnie!"

"wha—"

thus, she was pushed towards the door, once again. she tried to glare back at the pair, but they looked too scared to even move, so she begrudgingly slid the door open. a cloud of dust puffed up in her face, and she coughed.

"see, was that so ha—what the hell." upon turning back around, yunjin and chaewon were nowhere to be found. she was left in the dust. what great friends! that's fine, sakura's grown. ghosts aren't real. they aren't!

"such friends they are," a cooling whisper tickled her neck. sakura was inclined to agree, before realizing, 'what the fuck. who. is that.'

she snapped her head back so fast it could've given her whiplash, to see a pale face right in front of her.

"jesus fuck!"

the face moved back, giving her room to breathe (not that she could feel anything by its presence besides a ghastly chill) and allowing her to see that the face belonged to a floating figure. actually, it was quite pretty. wait a minute.

"who!?"

ghosts aren't real. they can't be. so why could she see one floating right in front of her? cocking its head to the side with an irritatingly curious expression? there's no way it's a ghost. sakura must've been hallucinating. that's right, yeah! she's definitely hallucinating.

"who are you?"

okay, fuck, it talks. sakura literally can't find anything in her head to try to alleviate the situation. so she does the obvious(?) and humors it. she repeated her intended sentences in her head, praying she doesn't piss it off and die. 'my name is sakura. do you have a name? my name is sakura. do you have a name? my name is-'

...but what comes out, is: "my sakura is name. do you name a have?"

"huh?"

what the hell.

"fuck. fuck, okay. my- um. my name is," she cleared her throat, averting her gaze to the ground. she clutched onto the handle of the flashlight. "my name's sakura... do you, um. do you have a name?"

it floated up, and sakura braced herself. this was not on her 2024 bingo sheet. but then it approached her with a smile. unsettling? more pretty than unsettling. since when were ghosts—or whatever it was—so attractive?

it inched closer to her, and sakura could feel another chilling sensation on her skin. "name? i'm y/n. nice to meet you, sakura. what are you doing here? i haven't seen anyone in ages besides the students during the day, but no one's ever visited me at night."

the way it... no, the way you talked was... refreshing? she expected demands in favor of any of the seven sins, in exchange for her body or whatever, yet your tone was the opposite of that. you sounded... friendly, even.

"um..." should she be honest? sakura never thought she would make it this far unscathed, so... YOLO? "we—me and my friends i mean—heard there was a ghost here. so we came to check it out."

she was still standing at the entrance, unmoving. there was a literal ghost(?) in front of her, after all. "i guess its you...?"

you pretended to think for a moment, resting your chin against your palm. "yeah, that checks out."

a beat of silence followed. you and sakura were just staring at each other, neither of you daring to move a muscle. well, at least sakura dared not to move a muscle. you were freely moving around her, scrutinizing her with your gaze.

"do you want to stay for a bit? i won't hurt you. i mean, i literally can't touch you, so..."

you had a point. but it took sakura more than a few moments to un-freeze herself and take a seat on one of the desk chairs. it was freezing cold in the room, probably due to how long you'd been in here, but it made the shorter girl zip up her hoodie.

sakura averted her gaze to the ground, not wanting to make eye contact. "can i, um... ask you questions?"

unfortunately for her, you appeared inside of the desk, your head popping out so you could forcefully make the japanese look at you. in turn, she yelped.

"ahaha, sorry, sorry. it's just a bit rude to talk to someone without looking at them, no?"

she rubbed at her sleeve. she needed to get out of here, and go home to her endless mountain of stuffed animals on her bed. and maybe cry to wendy's album on repeat.

"sorry," she mumbled. today was not her day.

you nodded and hummed, moving back to "sit" on the desk in front of sakura. "go ahead, then. ask away!"

okay. okay! you can do this, kkura. you were just a ghost. you couldn't do anything to her.

"how long have you been here?"

"three years."

"were you a student here?"

"yeah, i died in the year i was supposed to graduate, which was three years ago." so you were a year older.

"why the art room? did you like drawing?"

you pursed your lips and crossed your legs. sakura felt the cold air pulse in front of her, where you were.

"not really... my best friend did, though!"

"best friend?"

"yeah!" you made to lower yourself from the top of the desk to the chair below. "her name is seulgi. i don't think she's dead yet? maybe you can find her online, or something."

"seulgi... i've heard that name before."

you phased yourself through the back of the chair and in front of sakura again. "you have!? how is she, is she well? i didn't talk to her that much in my last year so i don't know. and i can't really access the internet in this form, so..."

she gulped. "um..."

you gazed at her so expectantly. sakura almost felt bad, she should at least answer your questions.

"i think she's an artist. she recently had an exhibition near my university, it was part of an alumni event," she answered slowly. her skin must've been burning red from the way she was rubbing her sleeve.

you moved back again, now with a serene expression of your face. did that satisfy you?

"i see. thank you."

"..."

you suddenly put on a cheerful smile. it was off putting, but then again, everything about this interaction had been off putting, so sakura wasn't all that surprised anymore. "it's my turn to ask questions, sakura!"

straight to talking informally, huh.

"how old are you?"

the question was unexpected. it made her choke on her spit, and made you scramble around to look for water.

she took a deep breath after regaining her composure, and you settled back down onto the desk. "i'm about to enter my... third year of college."

"so that makes you...?"

"uh, i'm turning 21."

"so you're 20."

"yeah..."

you had an unreadable expression on your face. sakura braced herself. she wasn't lying, though.

"okay! you're sakura..."

"miyawaki."

"you're japanese?"

"mhm."

"cool! miyawaki sakura, 20 years old."

sakura and you stared at each other once more.

"no more questions?"

"nope! did you want me to ask more?"

she stood up from her seat, keeping eye contact. you didn't seem very scary anymore. but more... cute. cute was a fitting word.

"no..."

just in time, her phone buzzed. she fished the device out of her pocket to see hundreds of missed calls and unread messages from yunjin and chaewon. it was also well-past four am.

you floated in front of her, pouting. "you have to go?"

sakura nodded. you escorted her to the door. "visit me soon, 'kay? you're fun to talk to. and super pretty."

that shouldn't have made her blush. although, at least the sentiment was mutual.

"o-okay."

instead of listening to soothing songs that night, sakura found herself listening to wendy's collection of love songs.

fuck, did she have a crush on a ghost?

as per your request, sakura returned to the school the next night. the empty hallways didn't seem so desolate as it did before (the dark combined with flashlights made it seem abandoned, though the school was still running like normal in the day) and she was slowly starting to get used to your... presence.

so she visited the night after that, too. and the night after, and also the night after the last night. and then it became a routine. she'd finish up any work she had to do in the afternoon, which wasn't much since she was on summer break, hang out with yunjin and chaewon (sometimes yujin and wonyoung, too, and on a rare occasion, chaeyeon), and kill some time by playing games before she set out for the school.

if you told sakura she would be sneaking into a school to visit a very pretty scary? ghost, she wouldn't believe you... but here we are now. after hanging out with you for a while, she'd compiled a list of things about you in her mind:

you remembered bits of your life, like things were important to you, sakura couldn't tell if you were lying about not remembering the other things though.

you died three years ago (you were 1 year above her)

you and seulgi were really close (seulgi is two years older than her and one year older than you)

you like listening and watching her play games, even going as far as to add in your own commentary (it makes her blush)

today she was going to bring her switch. she'd been meaning to work on her island in animal crossing, but lately she had been caught up in progressing through persona 3 reload, a game she finally caught on sale and had been waiting for, for ages. (she fucking hated tartar sauce. tart harass. tartarus. whatever.)

she carefully slid the classroom door open, being greeted with a yelp and an excited wave. sakura smiled shyly and switched on the fairy lights she'd brought in a couple of days ago, and walked over to one of the desks to set her bag down.

"hi, sakura!" you floated next to her, briefly hugging her. she shivered due to your chilliness, but patted you on the back. as best as she could, at least.

over the days you worked together to decorate the art room, transforming it into a comfy nook where one could relax and have a light snack. at first sakura felt bad that you had to watch her do all these things, but you insisted that watching and listening to her eat and play games helped you live vicariously through her.

sakura opened the closet in the back to get a bag of honey butter chips. you had mentioned that it was one of your favorite snacks prior to your... untimely death, so she took it upon herself to buy a bunch of them early in the morning.

she popped one in her mouth, closing her eyes at the taste and crunch.

you blinked at her intently, grinning toothily at the college student. "how is it?"

"mmh. very honey buttery," she teased, making you scoff and pout.

"you're not funny, sakura."

said girl gasped in offense, "i think i'm exceptionally funny, thank you!"

"not. funny," you stuck out your tongue. did you think this was a game?

it was fun teasing you, but you always shot back tenfold... it didn't stop her from doing it, though.

"are you playing persona again today?" you asked once she settled down into her regular seat in the back of the classroom. whenever she brought her switch she would be working on her 100% save of persona 5 royal, since she could only play her newly acquired game of the same series, on her computer at home.

sakura took out the device and inserted the animal crossing cartridge, although it was taking a bit to load into the title screen.

she glanced at you from the side. you were sitting on the chair adjacent to hers. (it was an early adjustment, pushing two desks together so you could sit next to each other. something that you suggested, seemed like you were tired of sitting on top of her desk.)

shaking her head, sakura pointed at the screen. "animal crossing. i need to sell my tarantulas to flick today."

you shivered. you hated insects and arachnids, that was another thing that sakura found out about you through a very frightening encounter with a daddy long-legs when she initially opened the dusty closet.

your reaction didn't go unnoticed by the younger girl. her shoulders shook with mirth, laughing at the absurdity of your predicament. you were a ghost. and you were afraid of spiders. and ants, and beetles and bees, when they couldn't see or even touch you.

"don't laugh! any type of spiders or bugs are the bane of my existence, i swear!"

"y/n, the tarantulas are in the game!" sakura wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. she just couldn't believe your fear went this far. hell, she hated them too, but she was safe from the demons in game.

the cold intensified. it seemed to do that whenever you felt a particularly strong emotion. "they're still creepy in game."

"whatever you say, y/n."

she reached for and felt around the inside her bag, looking for nothing in particular, until her hand bumped into a familiar casing. that's right, the camera!

if sakura didn't know any better, she'd have thought it was an ordinary vintage camcorder. but this, this was a special camcorder. she'd been through hell and back to buy it off this random dude she'd found on her college forum.

"a camera?" you leaned in closer, curiosity piqued. sakura felt an icy blow of wind on her cheek from your presence, yet it made her blush. she was afraid the "crush" had turned into a crush.

"not just any camera," she smugly proclaimed. "it's supposed to capture," she made air-quotes, "'ghostly encounters.' or whatever that guy sunoo said."

"i'm not..." you laughed. normally she would've laughed too, but she was dead set on this financial decision. seeing the pure determination on her face, your laughter ceased. "oh, you're serious."

"well, okay. let's test it out, shall we?"

she fumbled with the camera, taking it out of the flap case with caution and flipping the screen open.

this would totally serve as real proof to her friends.

"i literally don't see anything, unnie." yunjin pouted.

yunjin and chaewon sat unamused on sakura's bed. sakura was showing them the footage she had taken a few days ago of a conversation between you and her.

"weren't you the one saying ghosts aren't real all the time? now all of a sudden you're claiming you've even befriended one. we should really stop you from going back, unnie," chaewon deadpanned.

she was right. sakura was saying all that stuff. keyword: was. but she was a changed woman! now that she'd seen it with her own eyes, there had to be a way for her to prove herself. all of a sudden she felt bad for calling out yujin's delusions a few months back. she apologized to yujin in her head.

in her defense, she hadn't checked the footage she had taken at all until now. and not once did it come up in her mind that ghosts... didn't show up on camera. because they were ghosts.

the footage consisted of her making simple conversation with you, asking about your interests and introducing you to the viewers. it then escalated into a shoving contest, and sakura whining about how it wasn't fair that you could have even a slight effect on her (your eerie icy air) while she could just "phase" through your figure. that was what she saw, anyway.

to the two confuddled girls taking up all the space on her neat bed, it was just the girl talking to the air. and fighting the air. and blushing at air.

it was safe to say (to them at least) that miyawaki sakura had officially gone insane from too many nights stayed up this summer. the initial visit to the school at night was only a test of courage to start off the break, but it seemed that abandoning her and therefore failing said test of courage had a bigger effect on the older girl.

sakura huffed.

("can i bring my friends back?"

"huh? uh, sure. video didn't work?"

"no."

"then i'm not sure you think they'd see me if they didn't in the—"

"shut up.)

"why are we back here again," chaewon whined, clutching onto sakura's arm for dear life. they, once again, had brought the huge lantern from chaewon's family garage, even if the older girl had reassured them that their phone lights would be enough. sakura was getting tired of the lingering afterimages.

yunjin made a face as a spider was made visible from their powerhouse of a light source. "sakura-unnie, i swear i believe there's a ghost. even if we didn't see anything... now can we please go back home?"

"sure. i'll keep going and you two can run back. i won't believe that you believe me unless you see her with your own eyes."

finally, that shut them up. with much trouble, (mostly the two college freshmen clinging to sakura's arms) they traversed through the creepy hallway until they reached the art room at the end. sakura could hear some faint humming in the tune of gee by girls' generation, and she smiled to herself. it wasn't your favorite song, but it was the one that got stuck in your head the most.

she turned to the two cowering girls behind her (who had clutched onto each other the moment she broke away from their terrified grasps) and slid open the door.

"hey, sakura!" you waved from a desk in the corner. the girl waved and turned to her friends again, raising an eyebrow.

"do you hear her?"

"h-hear what," chaewon squeaked.

'are you serious.'

sakura stepped into the room, chaewon and yunjin hesitantly trailing behind her.

the american shivered. "is—is it just me or is it way too cold in here."

"that's the ghost!" the japanese desperately exclaimed, shaking the girls back and forth. "she's right there, look, please!"

chaewon looked back at her with an equal amount of desperation in her eyes, though for a completely different reason. "unnie... there's no one there..."

"what!?"

cool air whispered near sakura's ear, making her shudder. "yeah, sakura... there's no one here?" you giggled. she flushed red and turned around to shove you, but her arms went straight through. damn it, why were you a ghost?

"i don't know what happened when we left you, but i just know we should've dragged you back with us!" the tall girl cried out, genuinely worried for her friend. until chaewon started giggling at the sight of sakura fighting the air with her own eyes and they both started giggling together.

eventually, they both calmed down and sat at the desks, though they picked the ones right next to the door just in case they really saw something. chaewon and yunjin explained they couldn't see or hear anything, but it was exceptionally cold in the classroom, more than outside. and when y/n lingered closer to them, the iciness intensified.

unfortunately sakura couldn't stay this time, since the pair's calmness started to wear off and they started getting paranoid again. the older girl's interactions with the "ghost" seemed less entertaining and more... get her a therapist, ASAP.

you took notice of this and convinced sakura to take them home, and that you wouldn't mind.

sakura left with a final grumble, dragging the two by their collars and complaining about them, to them. she was going to get to the bottom of this.

"i just don't understand why they can't see you, why can i see you but not them?"

sakura was sitting at her usual spot, having returned the next night to visit you again. instead of you occupying the seat adjacent to her, however, you decided to sit crisscrossed on top of the desk in front of her.

you pursed your lips, then blew out an icy breath into her face. she frowned. "maybe it has to do with my last wish."

"uh, what last wish?"

"i mean," you sighed. "it's the whole reason i'm stuck here. the dead that remain on earth typically have a last wish that ties them down here, and only someone who meets specific requirements can help them go on to the afterlife. usually the reapers meet those prerequisites, so they help the spirits."

"my requirements would probably be... i don't know, someone who went to school with me, or maybe someone who came looking for specifically me? again, i'm not sure. maybe mine would be easier if i died in a more natural way."

this sparked a tinge of curiosity in sakura. you never really talked about how you died, always managing to avoid the topic and discuss something unrelated. "how did you die?"

"mmh, i jumped off the roof. and splat! i died."

"wha..."

why did you talk about it so casually? were you okay? why did you... what the fuck? maybe... maybe there was a reason you never talked about it? and this was just your way of coping, sakura didn't know. sakura wanted to know, and also know more about you. every bit of information about you that she uncovered stuck to her like glue. her infatuation with you not only as a ghost but also as a person was growing, and she wondered what would've happened if she never agreed to the initial test of courage. she wanted so badly to ask you, but the empathy in her told her not to pry further.

anyway...? reapers? other spirits? there were still ghosts on earth other than you? suddenly sakura didn't seem so ashamed that she spent all day, everyday in her room. but that's besides the point!

"so what's your last wish?"

you tapped your finger against your chin, furrowing your eyebrows. "hmm... i don't remember!"

"huh!?"

"but if i try hard enough, i'm sure it'll come up!"

"y/n..."

now, over the next few days you and sakura pretended like nothing happened. no last wishes, no death talk, just continuing on like before.

sakura, being the nerd tech-wizard she was, managed to get the projector working so she could have a bigger screen than the tiny one on the switch, and also watch films through her laptop, on the netflix account that yunjin didn't know she still had access to.

you figured out how to turn some of the lights in the corridors on, which let you and sakura venture out into the school and have a change of environment. sure, the artroom was cozy now, but sometimes getting out of there was refreshing for you.

"you're so warm, kkura," you murmured, making it appear as if you were laying on her lap where she was sitting at the end of the hallway. the lights flickered every so often, and the raven-haired girl's phone was about to die. they were a tad far from the art room, so when the battery finally ran out they would have to make do with the flickering lights.

she giggled, tapping the cold air where your nose would be. you scrunched up your face in response. "don't lie. can ghosts even feel warmth?"

"no... but i can feel your warmth, promise," you pouted. you were her weakness, really. she wished everyone else could see you but well, was it selfish of her that she was glad she was the only one who could?

sakura looked to the right, where the rest of your body was. huh, your legs weren't visible from this angle.

...wait a minute.

"where are your legs?"

your pout morphed into a frown of confusion, raising an eyebrow at the japanese girl. "huh?"

you then looked down, expecting to prove her wrong and that your legs were as intact as a ghost's legs could be... only to see that the lower half of your body was indeed gone, from the knees down. the rest of your body seemed to fade into nothing.

"huh. my legs are gone," you affirmed. "oh my god! my legs are gone!"

your gaze switched between sakura's equally as afraid face, and your missing legs. then it all became dark. the lights had gone out.

"y/n? y/n! the lights, the lights are... are you there still?"

"yes... the lights went out, so i can't see anything. does your phone still turn on?"

"don't ghosts have some sort of night vision? why can't you—agh..." she tried holding the power button on her phone, but what showed on the screen was the dead battery icon. "fuck."

the lights flickered, and both of your faces lit up in hope, until they went out again. then, the lights ahead flickered, and the pattern repeated. this was like in those dramatic scenes when the lights would turn on whenever you moved the character towards them, except they turned on by themselves. oh shit. she'd have to run quick if she wanted light.

luckily, you thought the same. "kkura, let's run."

and through the ceiling lights that flickered on and off in succession, sakura ran. she could only see you for seconds at a time, when the lights would make you visible, but you were smiling as you lead her through the corridors.

when you finally made it to the (thankfully) still-lit art room, you disappeared. "y/n? where'd you go?"

in fear, she spun around frantically, trying to see if you were anywhere near the classroom. did your last wish get granted and you just disappeared? no, she couldn't live with that. there's no way running through the hallway as if you were in an indie horror game was your last wish. where were you? what if—

"boo."

"jesus—jesus fuck!"

there you were, your knee-less form doubling over in laughter. "y/n, i thought you were gone for real! oh my god!"

"oh my—you should've seen the look on your face! you look like you've seen a ghost!"

"you're laughing. i almost suffered a heart attack from you and you're laughing."

you floated back up to her at eye-level, flashing a crooked grin. "sorry, kkura. but wasn't that fun?"

and, like many other occasions, sakura found herself failing to say no to you.

"i guess."

you were fading away.

it was the thing that happened when ghosts' last wish were granted naturally, not instantaneously like with a reaper. most wished for anyone but a reaper, so they could savor their true last moments left on earth, to fade away into the air and move on peacefully. not to be forcefully flown up to the afterlife, watching their surroundings become smaller as they got further up. it even made some of them queasy. unfortunately for them, only a certain amount of people found peace without the help of a reaper.

similar to when you revealed the truth of your death, you and sakura both chose to ignore how you were fading.

it had gotten significantly less colder than when sakura had first met you. only half your ghost form was visible; your hips down were gone now. sakura tried her best to ignore the gnawing feelings burning in her chest whenever she looked at you.

to alleviate her inner turmoil, she looked into some strategies to destress. this case was at 2 am, on some crappy wikihow articles with silly little illustrations. many suggested reading to relax the mind and body, but that was more of a yunjin thing. so she researched other calming hobbies.

crocheting had become a recent hobby of hers, something to kill time with in the daytime when she wasn't out. it quickly started to become an obsession—she would use every bit of her free time, whether it was during a cutscene in baldur's gate 3, before and after she took a nap, or whenever she wasn't out with friends.

"when'd you learn to crochet?"

sakura looked up to see you staring curiously at her hand movements, fascinated at the way she maneuvered the metal hook like it was second nature. "just last week. it's all i do nowadays."

she focused back to her project, stitching the beige yarn with her hook and occasionally glancing at the pattern on her phone screen. it was true, crocheting was all she did nowadays, added to her routine of gaming and being dragged to hangouts. she brought her crocheting tools everywhere with her, to everyone's complaint.

("pay attention to us unnie!" sakura recalled yujin whining, with wonyoung holding her back with a look of worry. chaewon and the couple had come over to the older girl's apartment, only to be met with her rotting away in her bed with her hook and yarn. it took 20 minutes of begging (yujin and chaewon) and coaxing (wonyoung) for them to finally play wii party.)

"i'm making a hat," she continued, meeting your gaze.

you smiled, resting your elbows on top of the wooden desk and leaning your chin against your palms. "is it for someone special?"

'fuck. how'd you know?' your question automatically led to the bright blush that had settled on her face, burning her cheeks so much that she had to break from your stare.

"i knew it! tell me, tell me!"

well, sakura didn't want to out herself. but then again, she knew you wouldn't give up that easily.

"...it's for you. i thought maybe, you could take it with you, when you... yeah."

"..."

the silence that followed scared the girl. it was the first time your disappearance had been mentioned ever since it was discovered. she hesitantly looked back up, biting her lip.

you blew a gust of cold-ish air at sakura, flashing a toothy grin. she had gotten used to your intense cold, but now it didn't feel any worse than the broken aircon.

"thanks, kkura."

there was something different about the school today. maybe it was because sakura decided to stop by a little earlier than usual, just before midnight. there was a full moon tonight, revealing thousands of stars that were truly a sight to behold. the japanese girl wanted to share the view with you.

the resounding echoes of her footsteps were eerily loud. sakura felt her heart beat in her throat, her palms getting clammy. that wouldn't do, she had to keep the cat-eared beanie in pristine condition—she stayed up countless nights to finish it for you.

it had been three weeks since the initial meeting, but in those three weeks, sakura found herself falling for a ghost. she couldn't get enough of you—at first it was a reaction to your beautiful appearance. in all of the games or movies she had seen and played, ghosts were more... ghastly. you, however, you appeared as a regular human; if your very presence wasn't chilling to the bone, or if you didn't float, she might as well have assumed you were another person looking for the infamous ghost.

and you, the art room ghost, were a spectacle. it was a crime that sakura didn't know about you sooner. maybe if you had met in school all those years ago, this situation would have been incredibly different. you went to the same school, only a year above her, yet you'd left no trace behind.

there were probably rumors floating around about your suicide, yes, but she'd returned to japan for more than six months, starting from the middle of her second year, to the middle of the summer before her third, in which she'd be graduating. it was no wonder she never heard about it. you'd done it a week before you would've graduated, and sakura was gone by then.

you were so bright, curious, relaxed, and frankly, unserious. it contrasted so strongly against the stereotypical, moody ghost, that it also intrigued sakura a copious amount.

sakura found solace in you. simple as that—she couldn't see herself without you now. and she wouldn't know what to do with herself when you would eventually disappear. you were lovely.

as she approached the door of the art room, she felt a sudden chill, before it dissipated into warmth, like a fire lit inside of her gut, burning everything in its way and leaving it in ruins. for the first time, she hesitated, afraid to slide open the door and see you.

the classroom was bathed in the soft, pale light of the moon streaming through the dusty windows, setting a peaceful atmosphere. through sakura's fear-stricken eyes, she could see you, your form reduced to one that she could barely notice if not for her seeking gaze.

"you came," you turned around, a smile on your face. for some reason, your full body was back, but it was more faint than ever. she stepped closer to you, into the light that shined onto the desks. from the front of the room where you were standing, sakura could see all the memories the two of you had made, from the fairy lights to the fixed projector.

she set the beanie onto the wooden surface and bit her lip. "i'm here."

you grinned at the object, tilting your head at the student. "for me?"

a nod.

her eyes gradually filled with tears, threatening to burst out like a dam. "i don't want you to go."

"i know."

the tears burned a trail down sakura's cheeks. she couldn't afford to blink, what if you disappeared in a split second?

you reached out with your hand to cup her cheek, returning her gaze of anguish with a remorseful stare of your own. "thank you for granting my peace. do you want to know what my wish was?"

"what?" the japanese girl choked out. your face was a blurry mess due to the tears that blocked her vision. she wiped them furiously with trembling hands, but to no avail—they just kept coming.

in a slowly timed manner, you cupped her other cheek with your hand and leaned in, planting a cold kiss to her lips that lingered even after you pulled away.

"i finally made another friend."

a pang in the chest. sakura couldn't even respond, too caught up in the moment and feeling every emotion she had ever felt in her twenty years of life, into one jumbled up pile. you were fading; your body becoming more transparent by the second.

"if only... in better circumstances, you know?" you whispered. she swore she could see tears rolling down your cheeks. "we could've been more than that."

the last sakura saw of you that night was your bittersweet smile, fading away into nothingness. the beanie lay untouched on the desk, the fairy lights where she last left it, and the projector ready to play hollow knight on her switch.

she was alone in the art room.

eat. sleep. crochet. repeat. sakura hadn't left the vicinity of her room in two days. living off of shitty top ramen packets and cans of redbull, she didn't even know what she was crocheting. she hadn't logged onto any games either.

miyawaki sakura was lost.

without you, she didn't know what to do. there was nothing waiting for her in the unholy hours after midnight. no one to watch her play games on a school projector. no one to look forward to seeing.

her friends came knocking on her door, letting themselves in but giving up as soon as they saw how far gone she was. she wouldn't budge, only answering with a half-assed "mhm..." or "right..." as she stitched the beige yarn with almost mechanical movements.

the yarn had been continuously weaved into a long, stretching piece, pooling around her as she worked at a depressing yet strenuous pace.

"sakura-unnie..." chaewon tugged at the mourning girl's sleeve. "this isn't healthy..."

"mhm..."

yunjin frowned, almost tearing up at the older girl's pitiful state. "what could've happened to her? she's never done this before."

"maybe it's the ghost?" chaewon turned to look at the blonde, who was sitting on the edge of the black gaming chair. "doesn't look like she's been back there for a while."

sakura tensed. a stray tear made it out the corner of her eye.

"y/n," she murmured, then going back to crocheting.

"is there something we can do, unnie?"

"it's not like we can bring her back, yunjin."

bring you back? bring you back... summoning the dead... would it count if you'd already ascended? no, never mind that. summoning circles... demons... you weren't a demon, you were obviously an angel. occult...

sakura did recall a section dedicated to the occult at the campus library.

she dropped her hook and yarn, getting out of bed and pushing past the two girls, who were clearly bewildered at her actions. she had to go get books.

but that would take forever, wouldn't it?

she strided back into her room, taking hold of the girls' wrists.

"we're going to the library."

"for what!?" chaewon yelped. sakura had a killer grip, unexpected coming from a gamer who was a shut-in most of the time.

"i'm going to bring y/n back."

"you're kidding, right!? that's something in the movies! i—you're not listening..." chaewon groaned.

yunjin wrinkled her nose. "could you at least take a shower first? no offense, unnie, but you smell... it's at least not as bad as passing by the boys' locker room though."

oh shit. she hadn't left her room in two days.

"we're going to the library after."

"witch's handbook... herbs and hexes..."

sakura, having freshly showered and changed into some suitable clothes that weren't just sweats and an old pokémon hoodie, skimmed through a variety of books in the supernatural section of the library. yunjin was surrounded by piles of books on a nearby table, sitting with her face smushed into the wooden surface.

chaewon had been trying as diligently she could to aid the older girl in her search, but most of the books were fiction or sounded... not very promising.

she glanced worriedly to her friend, who was in a manic state. "kkura-unnie, i really don't think—"

"necromancer's manual," the japanese gasped out. she tugged the dusty book out of its placw between two other 'magic' books, and rushed over to where yunjin was dozing off.

the slam of the book echoed throughout the library, which was mostly empty save for librarian who glared over at their general direction. the noise and vibrations it sent through the table woke up the blonde, making her jump to her feet and salute.

"i'm up, ma'am!"

"hey, who are you calling... nevermind."

sakura began reading the faded text printed on the first pages of the book. "the path of a necromancer is one of darkness and... ugh, don't care... approach these teachings with respect, for the dead may not forgive, and the power to summon them is as much a curse as it is a gift."

yunjin and chaewon stood behind her, though not reading the book but crossing their fingers hoping that the older girl gave up and would go back to being the sakura that they know and love. this whole trip to the library she was off in her own world, going on and on about how she was going to get this y/n back. she didn't even tell yunjin to step on the brakes way before she actually had to.

it took them one look at sakura: her widened eyes, the frown that was etched onto her face. she was about to do something crazy. something that might kill her if it succeeded. but they're not sure if she was even thinking about such things; sakura was clouded with a mix of emotions so strong that she seemed like a whole new person.

it was almost as if she were reborn.

step one: gather your materials. to summon the dead is a perilous task, and to do as such is a path filled with trouble. fret not, for you have made it this far, and backing out is always viable if need be.

below is a list of materials that will aid you. note that these are suggestions, and if you are to rekindle specifics, these may not apply.

chalk, to draw the main summoning grounds in the form of a standard pentagram

five palm wax candles

sea salt, to be sprinkled around the circle

parchment and a quill or other utensil, for the person's name to be written on and burned as the finalization of the ritual

one white lily

an object dear to the person

of course, there were extra measures needed to be taken for sakura to fully do this. the amount of shady wikihow tutorials she pulled up was alarming. it wasn't her fault though. what if she messed up while drawing the pentagram? and where the hell would she get palm wax candles? ordering online would take too long. so... she called up her good friend and little sister of chaewon: eunchae.

eunchae had many connections. all it took was a few texts and the younger girl had showed up to her apartment, kyujin in tow, with a box of premium palm wax candles. they looked to be very expensive, but with whatever witchery eunchae did, she only had to pay a whopping... nothing at all, actually. thank god for eunchae.

sea salt, chalk, and the white lily were easy to obtain. she had sea salt from her kitchen, chalk that she never gave back to yunjin, and went to go buy a single white lily from the florist next to the local bookstore which was famous for housing four cats.

the parchment was slightly harder to find, but she managed it by stopping by some antique store that was dustier than chaewon's garage. as for the quill... well, a fountain pen was close enough, right? whatever. sakura didn't have much time left, the only thing left was to get something that meant a lot to you... but what could it be? you didn't talk much about your own life in general, at least the important bits. but you did talk about your best friend sometimes.

best friend...

kang seulgi, the prodigy. admired by many, though some thought her as enigmatic. she had an impeccable fashion sense, was incredibly selfless, and was absolutely stunning.

but out of all people, she chose to spend most of her time with not only an underclassman but quite frankly the quietest one. the girl, y/n, chose to work alone in every group project—no one knew why the teachers let her get away with it. whenever she did talk to someone, they could barely hear her. so when one of the most popular students in school approached her, everyone was shocked.

they were quick friends. eventually they were seen everywhere together, especially in the art room. seulgi would paint or draw, and y/n would watch. sometimes the younger would be the model, and sometimes she would lounge around on her phone while eating honey butter chips.

seulgi and y/n talked about anything and everything. from the interesting topics of the day like the substitute teacher in the second years' history class, to the most mundane things like a slight change to the lunch menu. they were glued by the hip; one would never be seen without the other.

of course, this changed when seulgi graduated. y/n became as isolated as ever, always having a sullen look on her face. she spent her last year with minimal interactions with others, disappeared during lunch breaks, and rarely attended school events.

and... eventually she couldn't take it anymore. during lunch, she went up to the rooftop, slipped off her shoes, and started freefalling.

sakura did not know of this information. but she did know one thing: seulgi probably held her best friend's most precious item. or at least knowledge of it. she was going to revive that stupid idiot no matter what it took.

from: mperskr@ijbol.org to: ksgom@hotmail.com hello ms. kang seulgi, i would like to schedule a meeting with you. it is not for a commission, but something very personal. i know we have not yet met, but i need you to consider my request. i need to ask you a question about someone you were very close with in your high school years. someone by the name of y/n. best regards, miyawaki sakura

"good morning."

"...good morning," seulgi hesitantly greeted, taking a seat across sakura in a rather quiet coffeeshop. "so, you need to ask me about y/n?"

the japanese raised her eyebrows. she was straight to the point, but it saved her some time. "yes. look, you may not believe me, but i met her as a ghost some time ago, but i was the only one who saw her. and long story short, she disappeared into thin air and i need to bring her back."

to no one's surprise, seulgi was narrowing her eyes at her. "um, you mean to tell me that the girl that i heard killed herself, came back as a ghost that only you could see, suddenly disappeared again?"

"yeah."

"ms. miyawaki, was it?"

"that's me."

"...have you been to therapy?"

well, fuck. how was she supposed to explain herself?

she started by explaining how she met the ghost. the haunted school rumor, the first conversation, the daily meetups, and the like. it was a lengthy explanation, one that had the artist furrow her eyebrows at every passing second. but sakura was willing to do whatever it takes, even if it cost her dignity.

surely seulgi held the key.

seulgi frowned, drumming the pads of her fingers against the table. "what does this have to do with me?"

"i'm going to attempt a summoning. y/n has meant too much to me in such a short time, and it will cost my entire being if i can't see her again," sakura stated, a raging mania storming her eyes. she crossed her legs and clasped her fingers together. "i need something that was important to her. and i believe you, kang seulgi, are in possession of whatever it is."

"and what if i do have it? interfering with the dead is ridiculous, even if you told your story," a flash of hurt passed, her face remaining solemn yet sorrowful. "is this what y/n... would've wanted?"

sakura's eyes widened. would you want her to do this? no, never mind that. "we can't ask. y/n died without accomplishing what she wanted most. don't you want her to achieve her dreams?"

the drumming paused. "...and if i don't have it?"

"then i swear on my life that i will get that item no matter what."

"i couldn't back then, but... will you take care of her?"

"one hundred percent."

"..."

"thank you," sakura collected the envelope and stood up from the chair, the metal legs screeching against the floor. "and i'm sorry. i love her. and i know you did too."

seulgi stayed in her seat, reflecting on actions that she couldn't reverse. ones that could not be reversed because they were never done in the first place.

if she had reached out, would this turn out differently? was she right to trust this stranger who claimed to know your name?

she stood from the metal chair with shaky legs, and walked out.

dear seulgi,

it's me. i just want to say that i'm sorry. i should've kept contact with you before it was too late. i know you're going to say it was never going to be too late, but i can't take it anymore.

every second passes by and everyone looks at me with such a look of pity. at first they asked me where you were, before realizing you graduated and laughed it off. i can't laugh it off, you were my other half. my best friend. it was always y/n and seulgi, seulgi and y/n.

nowadays i spend all of my spare time in the art room or somewhere outside. they don't use the art room anymore, you know? said they ran out of budget to support the art department, and shut it down. i buy whatever's left at the school store and eat in there.

i'm tired. i can't wait another year or whatever just so i can see you again. we haven't talked. i miss you.

i'm graduating next week.

i think i'm going to die before then.

- y/n

the candles were set up. she had to pull up the wikihow article for the pentagram, but regardless, it was done. the sea salt was sprinkled and the parchment was prepared. she set the letter in the center, along with the white lily.

eyes devoid of emotion, she took a deep breath, and let the parchment burn. the crackling sounds were crisp to her ear, reminding her that it was too late to turn back.

"and with this offering..."

she's reminded of the memories you made together. the gaming sessions, conversations, and your departure. the you that she met was so different from the one in the letter.

"i seek to reforge a bond with thee."

the explorations after turning the lights on, and how the last one was the introduction of something that would take you away.

"within these sacrificial flames, i humbly ask thee to appear before mine eyes."

bow down. once, twice. she felt the heat of the candles on her cheeks. they were emitting the only source of light in the classroom.

and now, you were to appear before her. or so she thought. instead, she was faced with nothing. not a sound—the windows were shut along with the curtains and the door was closed.

sakura remained bowed down. squeezing her eyes shut and denying that all of this was fake. denying that it was, indeed, all for naught. denying that her friends were right and seulgi was right and everyone was right and she wasn't.

blinded by her guilt and grief, for someone who was peacefully resting now. she would return to her apartment and go back to her normal life, whether she liked it or not. the pool of yarn was still sitting on her bed, the beanie on her desk.

she would also have to apologize to everyone she knew. yunjin and chaewon, who were only concerned for her well being but were dragged into the preparations.

seulgi, who she hunted down and persuaded to give up what could've been the last she had of you.

a wet substance dripped down her cheek and onto the creaky, wooden floor. and another drop joined the first, and then it came in a steady flow.

you wouldn't have wanted this.

you would've wanted her to move on. and be happy that the short relationship even happened.

you wouldn't have wanted her to drown in grief, then be consumed by mania in an attempt to desecrate the laws of the world.

you would've wanted her to remember you. not bring you back.

sakura ruined whatever trust you had in her. disrespected your death, and your disappearance. she didn't know how she was going to atone for the dents she made in other lives.

her sleeves were now soaked in tears. her nails broke the skin of her palm and she bled. indents of the wrinkles of her pants were left on her knees.

sakura pushed herself off the ground, only to be flung by an inexplicably powerful gust of wind. it sent her crashing into the desks, her head spinning and unable to begin to comprehend what was happening. the curtains were forcefully ripped off from the impact of the wind, allowing the late night brightness seep into the classroom.

a trail of blood slid down from her forehead. a headache pounded into her temple. she closed her eyes for a split second and saw her late grandpa.

her mind was clear as mud, even as the door slid open. she slowly turned her head to the entrance, mouth falling agape.

someone very, very familiar.

sakura's mouth opened and closed, unable to form any words.

the girl furrowed her brow and adjusted her uniform skirt, looking around at the mess in the art room. her gaze eventually landed on sakura, who was crumpled on the floor, leaning against the desks which were scattered from her fall. she was bleeding from her head, which added to her confusion.

she tilted her head, her nametag glinting in the moonlight. slowly stepping forward and towards the bleeding girl and poking her unbloodied cheek. "who are you?"

the familiar girl's touch was warm. sakura's throat became dry, a fresh batch of tears flowing down her cheeks.

"y-y/n..."

a/n : hello!!! so sorry for the wait :) this was longer than i thought, and much deeper than i originally intended but oh well. thank you for reading until the end 😁

[sunlightmurdock]

thinking about mechanic bradley and goody-two-shoes reader fooling around behind the backs of her rich upper class family & him accidentally knocking her up

sksksks bc I’m so picturing enemies to lovers for them, like maybe the office she’s interning at is next door to his shop and he’s always playing his music too loud for her to work and hitting her with vaguely naughty, witty remarks when she comes to scold him about it

Really, he loves her bossy attitude and is just dying to get his hands on her

One Friday night she has been ditched at the office with mountains of work to do and he’s working into the night, blasting the music over the shop speakers with little respect for the neighbours. So, in her classy office heels, she stomps over there to give him a piece of her mind and as you could have imagined — it doesn’t exactly go that way

Instead, she winds up being manhandled onto workbench, tools, pencils and parts flying to the ground, her hands tangled into his messy curls as he sucks feverishly along her neck. Her neatly ironed blouse torn open and her skirt bunched around her middle, her heels digging into the small of his back as he fucks her wildly.

Then, he fixes the button on her blouse with a safety pin and drives her politely back to her parents’ house. It’s far too late for her to walk by the time they’re done. Of course, she makes him park down the street though — she can’t be seen with a guy like him.

After that, he becomes her regular stress relief. You can usually find her in his bed in the apartment above the shop on her lunch breaks, ranting to him about those asshole bigwigs who never take her seriously as he kisses along her body.

Her parents don’t even notice when the lunch portions that she packs every day double in size, to be shared with Bradley once they’ve worked up an appetite. He’s no stranger to vegetables, despite his otherwise messy lifestyle — but he regularly wrinkles his nose at the weird, fancy lunches she brings him.

And now that she’s not walking home from work, she has an extra hour to kill before her parents expect her back — an hour that is often spent making out with Bradley in his truck.

They’re having so much fun that sometimes, they forget to be careful. It’s only once Bradley coolly asks her what kind of birth control she uses as he’s tugging up his jeans, that a cold feeling strikes her.

“… What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ve been fucking like rabbits for four months straight and you haven’t gotten your period. Do you take the pill for the full month or something?” He asks, grabbing his shirt from the bedroom floor and tugging it over his head while she sits, still naked, in his bed.

He takes the dumbfounded look on her face for her being surprised at his knowledge and just chuckles, “Not my first rodeo, honey. What, it’s not the pill? IUD?”

She just squeaks softly and buries her face in her hands, bursting into tears, making his face fall in realisation.

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick. 

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble. 

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs. 

Etho was not. 

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above. 

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand. 

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought. 

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel. 

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly. 

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. 

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him. 

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous. 

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em. 

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine. 

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too. 

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around. 

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet. 

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried. 

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice. 

“Hello!?” 

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole. 

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor. 

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up. 

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people. 

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully. 

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied. 

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped. 

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed,  “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced. 

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water. 

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him. 

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting  his hand to wave at him. 

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile. 

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish  for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that. 

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed. 

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone. 

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it. 

And then he ate it completely. 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand. 

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening 

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh. 

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped. 

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!” 

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees. 

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side. 

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down. 

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed. 

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him. 

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed. 

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction. 

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face,  “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled. 

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh. 

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through.. 

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.” 

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky. 

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him. 

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water,  landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded. 

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly. 

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured. 

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered. 

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle. 

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two. 

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV  > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them. 

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway. 

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground. 

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned. 

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him. 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things.  He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for. 

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help. 

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar. 

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked. 

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped. 

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned. 

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back. 

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned. 

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off. 

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.  

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. 

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to  join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them. 

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief. 

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

[elflutter]

March x Injured farmer after 4-hearts cutscene

description: It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times the farmer couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

Or, a rewrite of the four-heart cutscene where March helps the farmer home after she sprains her ankle at the forge. Then, they finally confront their feelings.

warnings: NSFW (rated M, nothing too intense. minors dni), minor injury

note: there are a few fics on ao3 where the farmer helps a drunk march home after friday night at the inn, so i wondered what a scenario where march had to help the farmer home instead would be like! this fic is also on ao3 ♡ i haven't written fic in 8 years if you like this please talk to me about it/leave a comment!!! it means the world and im feral for this grumpy blacksmith

Ariana hadn’t said more than a few passing words to March since he asked her to meet him at the Blacksmith a few weeks ago. March had chewed her out and then, perplexingly, gifted her a hoe with the nicest metalwork Ari had ever seen. She was used to working with wooden training weapons at the Adventurer’s Guild and since she had arrived in Mistria she had made do with whatever tools she could get her hands on. Sure, they were old and rusty, but they were also free. Ariana didn’t need nice things.

Ever since that day in his shop, Ari had avoided having any real conversations with Mistria’s blacksmith. When she could, she would leave whatever ore she had collected with Olric or with a note by the forge and continue quickly on her way without meeting March’s gaze. And the few times she had exchanged words with him, Ari found it hard to look away from his eyes, dark as the midnight sky, and those lips, quirked down in a frown.

You’re being ridiculous, Ari chided herself. He’s not warming up to you. He’s just keeping an eye on you like he promised.

Sure, he hadn’t outright insulted the farmer in a couple weeks. He didn’t need to. March had thrown his words like daggers when they last spoke at any real length.

March had looked at her with eyes hard like iron. “Oh please. You're in way over your head. You come out here, no money, no experience, and think you can just fake your way through running a farm? And now everyone in town acts like it was you who won the first-place blacksmithing trophy three years running. It's all fun and games now, but the second things actually get tough, I'm sure you're going to ditch Mistria and its problems.”

Ariana wasn’t a quitter. She had told March that much. But he was right about one thing. She had no idea how to run a farm. Back in the Capital, Ari could barely keep a houseplant alive on the windowsill of her apartment. She was always a quick learner, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t enough.

You weren’t enough for the Adventurer’s Guild, and you aren’t enough for Mistria.

And March was the only one who saw that. Ari wanted to prove him wrong- she wanted to be good enough for Mistria. Good enough for March, Ari tried not to think. She told herself that was the reason the blacksmith was always on her mind. She was only thinking about proving him wrong. She was not thinking about his eyes that sparkled when he laughed on Fridays at the inn, not the little crease between his eyebrows that she wanted to smooth out when he frowned, and certainly not what those pursed lips would feel like beneath her own

 That would be ridiculous, she told herself. He hates you. 

It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times Ari couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

—

March was having a great day. It was still early in the summer, so the air in Mistria wasn’t blistering quite yet. It was just the right temperature that reminded him of standing in front of the warmth of the forge. He was pleased with himself as he approached his brother, “Olric! Balor cut me a great deal on the ingots. But we’ll have to bring them to the forge ourselves, so we’ll need to-” March cut himself short when he saw familiar purple waves and a denim overall dress. “Ari, what do you think you’re doing here exactly?” March’s skin simmered with a feeling that he told himself was anger.

“March!” his brother beamed, “Ari heard how backed up we were and uh… volunteered to help out! Right, buddy?”

Ari stood silently for a moment, her eyes locked firmly on March. He swore he saw a faint blush creep onto her cheeks. Figures, he thought, I’ve been a real ass to her. Of course she’d still be angry with me. The farmer had been avoiding him these last few weeks. Ever since he’d pushed her away. It was for the best. March had to focus on work and while Ari had captured everybody else’s attention in Mistria, it was best that she stayed away from March. He liked it better on his own.

March broke Ari’s gaze, and whatever spell was cast between them had broken. March didn’t let himself feel disappointed.

“Many hands make light work!” Ari recovered, sunny as ever. March thought it was infuriating. No matter how rude he was to her, she always responded with a smile and a kind word. It was ridiculous. Nobody was that nice.

Nobody except Ari, his subconscious added unhelpfully. He ignored it. It had to be an act, right? March angled his head so he could look down at Ari in a way he knew made most people feel small. “I don’t need platitudes, especially from you.”

Ari’s smile faltered and March chided himself despite his better judgment. This woman was so frustrating! “Well you can just- fine! Fine. But you’d better be able to keep up,” March finished. 

The blacksmith directed his brother to start carrying over Balor’s shipment from the inn, and Ari helped start up the forge. She kept the temperature steady easily. March wasn’t surprised, her skill had been improving steadily since she arrived in Mistria. The two of them fell into an easy rhythm. A swell of pride bubbled in March’s chest as Ari added another ingot to their growing pile. Once Olric returned with the shipment from Balor, he slotted into their routine and the work that would’ve taken all day with just the two brothers was done by lunchtime.

“And... that's... it! Whew, I think we're done. Are we done, Olric?” March panted.

Olric was out of breath as well, “We sure are! Everyone is going to be super happy about this!”

“That was fun!” Ari was beaming, showing that warmth that March craved despite himself.

The blacksmith felt his cheeks heat. “Y-yeah! ... I mean... thanks, Ari. I'm going inside,” March swallowed thickly, “I need to cool down.”

March felt the farmer’s stare on his back as he turned back into the shop. Before he could even latch the door closed, there was a scuff of boots and a yelp at the forge behind him. Next thing March knew, he was at Ari’s side helping her to sit on the stairs from the forge that she had seemingly tripped down.

—

Ari’s ankle throbbed as she sat on the steps to the forge, March’s hands carefully assessing her injury. She thought it was fitting that her first real injury in Mistria had come from her infatuation with the Blacksmith and not from a monster in the mines or from her work on the farm. March was the biggest pain in her ass, even more so than any of her real work. March pressed his fingers gently against a tender spot on her ankle and she flinched at the ache it caused.

March turned to Olric, “We should get her to Valen to check this out.” Was that concern in his voice? She was not going to see the town’s doctor. Absolutely not. She would never live down the indignity if her first trip to Valen’s clinic was caused by tripping down the stairs while ogling at the local blacksmith. It was barely a sprain, surely she could make it to her farm and patch herself up with supplies from her adventuring days. Ari carefully maintained her image as the competent farmer. She didn’t want Valen to see through the act like March clearly had.

You’re not enough for Mistria. And you are certainly not enough for him.

Before March could turn his gaze back to Ari, she pushed herself off the steps to make her way home. However, the second she put weight on her ankle she stumbled back onto the stairs. Despite the obvious difficulty moving, Ari managed to mumble out a pouted “’M fine.”

“Your ankle is already twice its normal size.” Ari felt March’s eyes on her injury. “There is no way you can keep working like that,” the concern in March’s voice was unmistakable.

So he does care.

Before Ari let herself dwell on that revelation, she threw the harshest look she could muster through the butterflies in her stomach and the throbbing in her ankle. She was never really good at harsh looks to begin with. “You are not taking me to Valen like this.”

March matched her disagreeable energy for a moment, with much more verve than she had managed “What do you mean? You know it's her job to see to injuries, right?”

Olric looked between the two of them, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of one of their arguments. “I’m just going inside to check on our, um, rocks… Ari just shout if you need any help, yeah? Take care of yourself, bro.”

When Ari didn’t say anything after Olric made himself scarce, March softened again. “You really do need to get this treated.”

Ari couldn’t help but smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about my well being,”

March’s face turned as red as his hair as he stammered, “W- well I don’t want you out of commission with all that ore you’re bringing around all the time. It’d be bad for business- that's all.” Though he tried to mask his worry, Ari still caught his eyes darting down to her swollen ankle.

“March, I’ll be fine. I have some supplies at the farmhouse. I can patch myself up, I’ve done it before.”

Before Ari could move to get up again, March carefully laid a hand on her arm. “At least let me help you get home. We both know you can’t put weight on that ankle right now.” Ari could swear she felt sparks where his fingers brushed, calloused and warm. The farmer nodded her head because her throat seemed too dry to form words.

It was going to be a slow-going process, getting back to the farm. Ari had an arm slung over March’s shoulder so he could help support her as they began to walk away from the Blacksmith. Ari tried to hide her wince and sharp intake of breath whenever her injured foot pressed against the ground. But they didn’t seem to escape March’s attention, because after a few steps, he motioned for Ari to stop moving.

“This will go a lot faster if you let me carry you.”

For a moment Ari forgot about her pride and imagined March’s strong arms, toned from long days at the forge, wrapped around her body. Imagined what it would feel like to wrap her own arms around him and what it would be like to feel his pulse under her breath as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. So Ari conceded. For purely experimental purposes, of course. 

March picked her up like she weighed nothing, despite her plump curves and her own toned physique from life on the farm and adventurer training before it. She had trained hard with the Guild, though they never sent her out on any real adventures. Ari was competent, but she had been relatively new to the Adventurer’s guild. There was always a more seasoned adventurer for the jobs that really mattered. And it would have been selfish of her to push for a job outside the city, protecting farmland from bandits or villagers from woodland monsters when her inexperience could have easily hurt the ones she wanted to help. So, the old farm in Mistria seemed like Ari’s best shot to make a real difference.

Even if I have no clue what I’m doing, she couldn’t help but remind herself.

She was shaken from her thoughts when March started walking after adjusting Ari in his arms. He was carrying her princess-style, and as Ari wrapped her arms around his neck, the feeling of his skin under her fingertips was even better than she had imagined. March’s hold was secure, and Ari relaxed into him. She focused on the pleasant up and down sensation of each step as they made their way towards her farm instead of her throbbing ankle.

Ari decided to test out another one of her theories, and rested her head in the crook of March’s neck. She felt muscles tense under her cheek for a moment, before March pulled her body closer to his. He smelled of cedarwood & sage, and she drank in the scent. This felt more magical than any spell Caldarus could teach her. Ari could feel March’s pulse thundering as they crossed the bridge that led home. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba- dum. It was mesmerizing. Ari wondered if her own heartbeat betrayed her like his did.

Is he enjoying this?

Before Ari could decide on an answer, March stopped at the front door of her farmhouse.

“We’re here, Princess.” March’s breath was on her ear and his voice raspy. He wasn’t teasing her, not entirely. Lightning licked down Ari’s spine at his words, and at his voice.

Ari tried to control her breath as she replied, “You can put me down now, I think.”

March seemed to return to himself as the tension loosened between them when he was reminded of why he had been carrying her in the first place.

“Let me at least get you settled inside. You’ll strain yourself trying to walk on it so soon.” 

Ari rolled her eyes at his mother-henning, but her arms were still around his neck and she wouldn’t mind a few more moments of feeling his body pressed against hers. “Fine.”

March set Ari gingerly on her plaid bed sheets and she told him where to find the healing supplies. He pulled the canvas duffel bag out from under the bed and began to sort through her first aid kit. 

“Do you even know what to do with all that?”

March looked up at her, “First aid training a couple years ago. I taught smithing at a summer camp.”

Ari studied her grumpy blacksmith. It made sense that he would be a camp counselor. He was great with Luc, Maple, and Dell; always working on little projects for them. She recently overheard Dell bragging about the awesome dragons-head belt-buckle he had made for the little adventurer.

“You really are a softy,” Ari accused him with no real malice in her voice.

“Would you rather I leave you here and let you break your ankle tripping over yourself?”

March gathered healing ointment on his one hand and carefully lifted Ari’s injured ankle with the other. He spread the salve over the swollen area and Ari couldn’t decide which sensation was more intense- the aching tenderness of her sprain, or the electricity she felt every time March touched her.

The air smelled of mint & aloe. The pain in Ari’s ankle quieted to a dull thrum. “I guess I don’t really mind that you’re here.”

March’s smirk told Ari he was unconvinced by her nonchalance. He wiped the ointment from his hands onto a washcloth from the healing kit, and moved to wrap her ankle for stability. As he worked the bandage around and around, March’s gaze stayed locked on Ari’s.

“Thank you, March,” her voice was barely more than a whisper. Where before the tension between them had grown slack, now it was pulled taut. 

“Arianna,” March breathed.

Before Ari could consider what she was about to do, her hands found their way to March’s red locks and she gently pulled him up so that his face was even with her own. He was so close that they could share breath. His lips were slightly parted and his cheeks were rosy. Ari closed her eyes and the distance between them as she gently pressed her lips to his.

Ari expected March to be reticent, at first. She feared he might even pull away from where their lips were joined. Instead, March deepened the kiss gently, almost reverently. His hands cupped Ari’s jaw and warmth pulsed down her body, through her stomach, and straight to her core. They explored each other with tenderness and without any rush. Ari’s grip loosened in March’s hair and she moved her hands down his chest and to the hard plane of his abdomen. His apron felt rough beneath her fingers, and Ari couldn’t help but stop and toy with the metal pendant he always wore. 

They kissed until they were out of breath and panting. When March finally pulled away, his eyes devoured Arianna like a starved man. The blacksmith pressed his forehead to Ari’s and she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Ari ached for him as March repositioned his hands to rest on her waist and his lips to brush against her ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words sent another shiver between her legs and Ari wondered if she was having the same effect on him.

“Do you really mean it?” She whined, “Don’t you dare tease me.”

Ari couldn’t help the lingering fear in the back of her mind that this was just some joke; that the harsh distance from before revealed his true feelings for her and now he was just having a bit of fun at her expense.

Deep down she knew that the man who taught his craft to kids at summer camp and who faithfully created a copper nugget beetle out of actual copper for Luc wouldn’t have the heart to do that to her. But the fear remained nonetheless.

March let out a sigh that sounded almost like regret. “Is it because of how I treated you before? I’m sorry Ariana.” His stare darted down for a moment, unable to meet her own. “I have a tough time with new people. I learned that they can’t disappoint me if I expect the worst from them.” March pulled back so he could look into her eyes again, pupils blown with desire and gaze simmering like hot coals. “I expected the worst from you and you proved me wrong every single time. Thank you for today.” March paused another moment, and Ari quietly marvelled at how beautiful he looked in that moment.  “I’m shit with words, Ari. Let me show you.”

Arianna nodded frantically, heady want flooding her thoughts and her senes until all she could feel were March’s hands on her overalls as he adjusted her farther back on the bed, carefully maneuvering her injured ankle. She ached for him. Then, March positioned himself between her legs and she could feel his need. For a moment, his lips were on hers again, and she relished feeling so close to him. He kissed down her chin and to her jaw. He paused his work to look up at her, and his gaze was like a blessing and a wanton prayer. March’s mouth trailed kisses down her overalls and to just below her navel, and she lamented that she was covered by the damned clothing. Ari wanted to feel his lips on her bare skin. Then, a hand snaked up her thigh and under her dress. Arianna moaned her assent.

March looked up again, “Is this okay?”

Ari mustered another nod, all rational thought lost to her. March bunched the skirt of her overalls at the waist.

“Is this okay?”

Again, Ari nodded. March pushed her underwear to the side and positioned his lips just above her core.

“Is this okay?” March looked at her with a primal hunger in his gaze, voice rough with want.

Ari tried to nod again, but all she managed to do was buck her hips towards March’s waiting lips and let out a needy moan.

Finally, finally March pressed a kiss to where she needed it most and Ari began to come undone underneath him. His tongue was hitting all the right spots; and his hands pressed her hips firmly to the bed when all she wanted to do was grind into him. 

March lifted his head for a moment, gazing up at Ari with his lips parted. She felt his calloused hands resting on her hips, only pressing down when she tried to lift them. “Careful with that ankle, Ari.”

The unabashed concern in his voice was as intoxicating as the evidence of what he had been doing to her on his lips.

All Ari could think about were those hands on her skin and the bulge she knew was between March’s legs. “Come back up here, March.”

They shed their clothes, and then March was pressed against her once again. Where before it was his mouth, now it was his hips. Ariana forgot the ache in her ankle and the cool gel of the healing salve when there was no more room between herself and March. He fit perfectly, and joined with her so gently. As March pressed his forehead against Ari’s and began to move within her, she thought she could see every possible shade of magic inside his blown out pupils. Ariana had come to Mistria for a farm and a house, but what she had gotten was a home. That thought scared her more than any monster in the mines. March reached a hand up to cup her jaw and he captured her lips in a tender kiss. His fingertips felt hot where they touched her cheek, and she savored the roughness of his callouses, hardened from long days at the forge.

Soon, both spent, they reluctantly pulled away from each other. March grabbed a towel from the small kitchen in the farmhouse and wiped up his mess from her stomach and chest. The texture of the towel was rough against her soft skin and slick against March’s release. 

“Was that clear enough for you, Princess?”  March asked with a smirk. March’s arm was around her shoulders and her head was pressed to his chest where she could hear his heartbeat.

Emboldened by his obvious affection, Ari adjusted to prop her head on her elbow and smiled as she stared lazily at the man in bed next to her. “Are you sure that's how you feel about me?”

March silenced her with a kiss and she laughed into his mouth. When they separated again, March’s fingers explored her purple waves. “Please don’t ask me to explain it again right now. I might need a break first.”

Ari laughed and curled into March's side, feeling content and decidedly not ready for another round. March pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

They held one another in companionable silence for some time. “I think I love you, idiot,” March finally mumbled into Ariana's hair.

Ari pulled away to meet his gaze, heart thundering in equal parts joy and disbelief. Composing herself, she smiled at her blacksmith. Her blacksmith. “I was just thinking the same thing, asshole.” 

[razertail18]

Miguel O'hara and daughter! Reader

I dunno why, but I'm an absolute sucker for Miguel O'hara and daughter!reader(its platonic, I can't stand incest)

My head just thinks of all the possible angst it has. One of these days, I'll finally be able to find the time to write other fics and this one in a proper way and just a rough idea!

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

You always love your papa, Miguel O'hara, but it's painfully obvious how he has been lacking recently. Well... As recently as the past few years.

Ever since the start of high school, Miguel has been absent in some events of your life.

It started when he would be late from picking you up from school, you would stay up late just to wait for him to come home, forgetting your traditional daddy-daughter sunday bonding time.

You didn't mind it at first until he stopped taking you out to celebrate your achievements, more specifically, every time you won a medal or got first place into any academic competition(specifically math and science).

Yup... You were a genius like your papa but he didn't send you to any gifted schools. He thought you deserved a normal childhood.

It was back in grade 9 where you won in an international math competition and won a gold medal... Like... Shock! Biggest achievement yet.

You already called Miguel about it and you just straight lied to him that all you got was a participation award. You were planning on surprising him, you take pride in the fact that you are just like your papa.

You went home with a medal in your hand and a bunch of empanadas on your other.

You wait.

And wait..

Oh, look at that it's 12:00 am. You could always skip school the next day...or technically today.

4 am and no calls... Is he... Okay?

And then Lyla pops up

"Oh, Lyla? Did papa have another all nighter at Alchemax?"

"Look, kid... I'll be honest with you... Miguel... He won't come back for a while."

"What?! Why? But... He said that he'll be here, besides, we always celebrate after I-"

"Y/N. I'm sorry, really, I am. And I'm sure your father does too."

You don't know why but you swore the way she gritted her teeth. Is that possible for holographic AI?

"Anyway, congrats, kid. I know it's just a participation award but, heck, you were against international kids. The best of the best. I mean, competing against hundreds of students in more than 20 countries. That's wild-"

"It's actually gold.

"What?"

"Won first place... I... I just wanna surprise, papa... But, um, thanks anyway..."

After that, it just got worse month after month, year after year. You are used to being alone now. Sometimes Tio Gabriel is there to take care of you. Lyla helps you to keep yourself sane.

While Miguel might still live at your house, it doesn't feel like it.

"I'm busy right now, hija."

"I'm sorry, biscotcho... Maybe some other time."

"Y/N, please! I am tired, I just need some peace at the moment."

Excuse after excuse. That's all you get.

There are the occasional times he did spend time with you that you both enjoy

But it got butchered when you were 15.

He was just gone. For months.

Tio Gabriel had to move in with you.

"Mig- Your papa is just busy. He's, um-"

"I get it... He's busy. What's new?"

Gabriel could see just how you were struggling to keep it together. He knows how close you and Miguel used to be.

Gabriel was debating on whether he should tell you that it was because Miguel had an accident that made him half-spider, half-human.

That Miguel became Spider-Man, a figure you slowly idolized and internally wished he'd be your father instead(Ironic, I know), that's why he's late.

That Miguel is out there saving the multi verse.

That Miguel does love you.

Granted, Gabriel didn't know that Miguel ditched you and him to live happily in another universe where he doesn't bear the burden of being Spider-Man.

After months, Miguel came back. You didn't recognize him at first.

His hair is unkept, dark circles under his eyes, more agitated, he's depressed. It's Miguel alright but a shell of your father.

It was one night where you found out the truth when a strange portal appeared and a few...Spider-Man or Spider-Men? Women? Cat? Spider-People.

Along with them is the Spider-Man you were familiar with. There's that skull shaped spider in his costume.

You were trying to get a closer look and caught them on camera. You didn't expect them that your Spider-Man would reveal his face

"P-Papa?"

After that you started digging deeper, snooping around Miguel's things and researching about Spider-Man in general.

You were fangirling at first until you realize that's the whole reason why he had always been so absent

You were furious. You don't know whether to shout, cry, punch, wail, or anything to let your bottled up emotions out

You hated him.

He left you to save other people. He abandoned you to be a superhero. And he didn't tell you! He lied to you.

Did Lyla knew? Of course she does. And tio Gabriel, he might as well have.

Would he really abandon his child to just play the hero...

You wanna tell him.

You were already walking down Miguel's office until you heard him talk about some anomalies and how these villains keep taking up his time.

"I shocking swear, Miguel, you get to see these villains more than you get to see your own daughter!"

"Several universes depends on it! You think I have enjoyed doing this for the past several years, Gab?!"

So the villains get more attention than you, huh?

Maybe it's time to have that so-called 'Bad girl era' that almost every teen goes through. But how...

You huffed as you landed on your bed filled with Spider-Man comics from the Golden Hero era as part of your research. And then you saw a particular villain in one of the pages.

"I'm a genius, right?... How hard could it be to pull off Doc Oct's metal arms... Besides... Nueva York still hasn't had a version of him. It's about time for one."

You immediately got to work. You had experience when it comes to robotics and tech, thanks to Miguel since he introduced you to it.

Miguel and Gabriel thought of nothing about it when you requested several metal parts and wires. It was not uncommon for you to mess around making robots.

The other materials that will gather suspicion, you have to buy it yourself or steal it.

You did feel bad for stealing but you love that adrenaline rush in your blood as you almost got caught and ran away scot free.

You made some changes to the original idea of Doc Oct's metal limbs. You read something about an inhibitor chip and there's no way you are implanting a chip in your body.

So you have to work your way around it. There's also something about an A.I., a huge no for you since you learned the hard way that you are still beyond mastering it.

So you just went with the voice command and controlling it manually.

At first you only have two limbs and the other pair was only used after you got the handle of it.

"Soooo... What crime should I do first... I don't exactly wanna hurt people. I just wanna fight pap- I mean, Spider-Man but how..."

You walk through the city carrying that heavy ass backpack containing the metal arms while looking where to cause crime.

Then you saw how a bunch of the policemen were abusing their power...again. And you look back at the police that was parked just near you.

"Hello there..."

It took Miguel by surprise when he saw a clip sent by Lyla about some weird Doc Oct wannabe making a ruckus in Nueva York about...destroying police cars and the police department? Odd.

Nonetheless, Miguel is pissed and was forced to fight the new villain any way whom he had found to be annoying.

"What in the shock are you achieving in destroying cars, Doc Oct?"

"Ummm, don't you think Doc Quad fits better... I only have, like, 4 metal limbs. But it makes me sound like a body builder.

It was strange how much you enjoyed causing mayhem or was it because Miguel's focus is on you. Regardless, your 'villainy' continued on for months.

You never hurt innocent people. More like an inconvenience to everyone in the city and just being a stupid teen who thinks there being bad but cool.

Of course, Miguel hated you. You were there being a distraction to his responsibility of keeping the multi verse in tact.

Strangely enough if there were any anomalies in Nueva York, you were the one to fight them off and the Spider-People sometimes just needed to pick them up to send them back home.

And as time goes on, you actually manage to strike a peaceful conversation with Miguel and some of the other Spider-People like Peter B. And Gwen(if they were around Nueva York) if you weren't feeling like being a menace.

"I'm just saying, Miguel. Your Doc Oct could be a great member in HQ. Just think about it." Gwen is trying to convince Miguel, she sort of made a weird friendship with you.

"She's practically harmless." Peter added.

"Uhuh. I think flooding the streets of Nueva York, releasing several animals free in pounds, painting government halls in rainbows, cleaning the river while tossing the thrash back in front of company's headquarters, and destroying police property is pretty harmless.

"Sounds more like an angst teen to me. At least, she never tried killing you." Peter joked.

He did give it some thought. Maybe you are a teen behind that black mask and shades you always wear but he couldn't really know.

Except for one particular event.

It was your sixteenth birthday. Miguel promised to make it special for you since you never got the quinceañera he promised you before.

You didn't really care you just wanted the whole day with him.

You didn't go to school that day only spending the day with Miguel.

This was it. Your prayers have finally been answered and then- oops...

Miguel left you in a diner while taking lunch to 'go buy something' and he didn't return.

Everything is turning out so well. A bed in breakfast, giving you tons of hugs and kisses from your papa, letting you pick out a new dress, and watching that new monster movie you've been waiting for about some overgrown lizard.

You knew he had been called to his 'job'. That is more important than you. Than his own daughter.

You left the dinner as you ran back to your home. You don't wanna cry. Not this time. Your heart is burning with all the rage and pain of his neglect over the years.

When Gabriel saw your tear-stained face, he already knew what happened.

He was ready to hear you breaking down in your room but he didn't expect to see your bedroom walls breaking down with tentacle claws visible through the smoke and rubble.

"Y-Y/N?" Gabriel didn't wanna believe it. But he saw you put on that mask and the shades that Doc Oct always wears.

You refused to listen to anybody as you thrashed everything that comes in your way. And you went directly to the electricity company and turned the lights illuminating the city night off.

You thrashed the broadcast and signal of the city (a/n: how do you even describe that)

No electricity, no signals, everything is off. You hoped that the HQ Miguel is in is affected as well.

You got bored as you ruined the streets, letting your anger out in the destruction you havoc.

Now...where was that HQ located? You swore you saw it in your father's plans.

Okay. Plan B.

Time to pay a visit to your papa's office.

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

A/N: might continue it as an actual proper fic but I really wanna write the reader as a villain. I know it's such a mess but way too sleep deprived but I might continue it later

[sananaryon]

Boscha and the Collector; The  parallels I did not fucking expect

In For the Future, we catch up with Boscha for the first time since Labyrinth Runners (and her only speaking role since Any Sport in a Storm), and she’s doing... well. She rules the Hexside survivors with an iron fist, a disguised Kikimora acting as her advisor, she has a cool new look, she’s revealed to be attracted to women, oh and also she is the episode’s most prominent narrative parallel to the Collector.

hear me out.

The Collector first and foremost is motivated by being lonely. They have spent milennia trapped in a void between worlds with no company other than themselves, desperate for any kind of company or outside stimuli.This ends up leaving them vulnerable to Philip, who pretends to be their friend and offers to let them out, but actually only wants them to use their power for his benefit. In short, the Collector is a lonely kid who’s vulnerability is exploited by an adult who only wants to use them for their own ends.

And then we have Boscha. Over the last few months in-universe, two of Boscha’s closest friends ditched her for new friend groups basically overnight. Then her entire world was turned on its head with the Day of Unity and the ensuing warping the Collector did to the isles, and she loses her two remaining friends who, to make matters worse, sacrifice themselves to save her, which I imagine left her with some survivor’s guilt as well. And with the adults taken by the Collector, Boscha is suddenly thrust into a position of leadership she was ill-equiped for.

Which is when Kikimora shows up. We don’t exactly know how she got into Boscha’s good graces, but going by the credits illustration and her actions as Miki, we can assume that she comforted Boscha through the difficult times and offered some sense of guidance and stability. Of course, Kikimora doesn’t actually care about anyone but herself, she’s just exploiting Boscha’s vulnerability to gain power for herself. Like the Collector, Boscha is a lonely kid who’s vulnerability is exploited by an adult who only wants to use them for their own ends.

Also both adults manipulating them disguise themselves as someone much younger to seem more trustworthy, Kikimora as a child named Miki and Belos as the middle-aged Raine.

And with that connection established, we can also see Amity and Boscha’s relationship as a parallel to the Collector and King.

When Amity shows up in the Boiling Isles again after being gone for months, Boscha immediately latches onto her. Putting aside the gay subtext (is it even subtext? This girl is hopelessly in love), Amity is someone familiar. Boscha has lost everyone and her world has been turned on its head, so of course she wants to reconnect with the one person who can give some sense of normalcy. You can hear in her voice how frightened she is when Amity is about to leave. But, of course, Amity does not reciprocate, and Boscha has to let her go.

Compare that to the Collector. When he’s freed, the Collector latches onto King, calling him his best friend. King was the one who freed him, and his first real friend given what a bastard Belos is, but the Collector also recognizes King as the son of the Titan, someone they always wanted to play with. Again, we have someone who has been alone for a long time immediately latching onto someone who provides a sense of familiarity. And like Amity with Boscha, King does not actually reciprocate those feelings of friendship. That’s not to say King dislikes the Collector, just like I’m sure Amity doesn’t hate Boscha, but he doesn’t see the Collector as their best friend, and mostly just plays along. However, unlike Amity with Boscha, King doesn’t really have the chance to stand up to and make the Collector listen.

TL:DR: Boscha and the Collector are both scared and lonely kids with too much power who latch onto any sense of familiarity and comfort, which leaves them vulnerable to being manipulated by powerhungry adults.

[amywritesthings]

Operation: Battlepass (AKA the Totally Awesome Plan to Play Wingman by Yuuji Itadori) / a Choso x OFC story

After choosing to live together as brothers, Yuuji decides to introduce Choso to the wonderful world of gaming. What he didn't expect is for Choso to fall head over heels for his online friend. Naturally, hijinks must ensue, and the gang comes up with a plan to make this romcom a reality.

word count: 3k (part one of ??) tags: au - canon divergence, fluff, romantic comedy, told in yuuji's pov, ultimate big brother!choso, gaming, online friendshipcredit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

read on ao3 here.

PART ONE: THE INTRODUCTION

disclaimer: this is a very crack slice of life story. everyone's alive. itadori is friends with an adult through online gaming. their dynamic is very much 'you're a kid and i have to protect you from weirdos in gaming lobbies'. iris is inspired by my own older online friends growing up. it's nothing nefarious.

Yuuji Itadori has never been a wingman.

Well — kind of.

If you scratch all of the times that Itadori went along with the ‘Save Megumi’ plan conjured up by the brilliant (and twisted) minds of Gojo-sensei and Kugisaki, then he’s technically never been a wingman.

Come to think of it, he’s never really given the act of dating much thought.

It isn’t like he’s ever had much skin in the game. 

Itadori’s never had a partner, for one.

Fushiguro is smooth enough to flirt without anyone’s help, two.

Kugisaki can be a little intimidating all on her own, three.

So it leaves… well, Itadori to cheer on his perfectly-capable friends as they navigate what it means to be a teenager.

It also leaves him wondering if one day he’ll know the tv-show-butterfly feeling of helping two lonely souls get together.

(He really should focus on his own love life, but given the whole Sukuna ordeal? That’s a mess he hasn’t quite ironed out yet.)

Enter: Choso, his alleged big brother from another mother.

(Or another father? That’s another thing he’s gotta iron out. More at 11.)

Getting a two-bedroom bachelor pad with the guy you only met, like, a few weeks ago wasn't on his year-end bingo card. 

"Really?" If Fushiguro and Nobara question something simultanously, that usually spells danger.

"Yeah!" Itadori exclaims, sipping on his tea. "I mean, why not, right?"

"Wasn't he the guy trying to kill you?" Fushiguro grunts.

"Then he changed his mind on a dime and demanded he protect you with every blood cell in his body?" Nobara adds, lips trembling from her attempt to hide a smile at her pun.

(Neither of the boys catch it.)

Itadori grimaces. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Fushiguro leans back. "Trying to kill you—"

Nobara leans forward. "—to defending you—"

They come together again, and Itadori sinks in his booth.

"—in a few hours."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Itadori whines. "But it'll be fine. We're great pals and figured it out. He's totally normal now."

So normal that Choso's in the booth at the other end of the restaurant, sipping a coffee black with a newspaper upside-down, waiting to take Itadori and his friends to the shopping district later.

(It's a little weird admittedly, but Itadori thinks it's endearing. He cares!)

So, yeah.

He ditched living at Jujutsu High in order to move in with his brother under the approval of his instructor.

Maybe it was a hasty decision, but Itadori will take the blame on that one.

Call it excitement or stupidity, he doesn’t mind.

After spending a lot of his life wishing he had a sibling of his own, it’s kinda cool to live a brother.

Not even a brother, but a big brother who takes his job very seriously.

For starters, Itadori always gets to order wherever he wants for takeout dinner, which never got to happen back at Jujutsu High.

Fushiguro used to be apathetic about what they’d order, which meant Kugisaki took the liberty in steamrolling every decision.

Now?

Itadori gets to show Choso every single one of his favorite foods and then some.

The guy doesn’t eat much — apparently something to do with being a curse, not that Itadori judges — but he thoroughly enjoys the nights watching Choso squint over a takeout box trying to figure out what the heck is in the thing.

It’s nice teaching someone else the ropes, rather than feeling clueless in his own life.

He shows Choso how to cook; how to clean, though they’re both fairly great at lifting furniture to get into those hard-to-reach spots; how to pay bills over the internet — or just to pay for bills in general.

However, there is one important item in life he has to show his big brother:

Video games.

Apparently all he ever played when he was with Jogo, Brains, and Mahito were board games.

Snooze.

Boring.

“Today is your lucky day,” he tells the man with tightly-coiled space buns one day while Choso's watching television.

Itadori thrusts a coveted console controller into his view with excitement.

Choso blinks down at it with confusion.

“Because I — Yuuji Itadori, your little bro — am going to show you the wonders and joys of gaming.”

“I know how to play games, Yuuji,” Choso flatly replies, though there’s a warmth to his tone no matter when he speaks to Itadori.

The pink-haired boy shakes his head.

“I’m not talking about Life or Trouble or, ugh, Monopoly — though you can technically play them on a console.”

Choso’s brows slide high: really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Huh.”

The man with the black strip over his nose tests the weight of the console controller in his hand, lip slightly pouted.

“So what do you… do?”

“Press buttons, mostly.”

Itadori holds up his own decked-out controller — a modified neon blue and black masterpiece that glows in the dark — and presses a few of the buttons to show him.

“You’ll get used to it. Trust me, it’s way easier in practice.”

Sitting beside his brother with crossed legs, he triggers the console to wake up to its dashboard.

The game show disappears, and a brilliant burst of color takes over the screen.

The reaction is priceless — Choso’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

Aw, yeah, he has him interested now.

“Do you play these games with your friends?” Choso asks quietly, poking at a button with his thumb.

“Sometimes,” Itadori replies. “Fushiguro isn’t a fan of them. Nobara gets way too competitive. Like… scary competitive. We limit her screen time.”

Choso snorts. “I can picture that.”

Itadori grins and opens up a few window menus so he can set up a profile for Choso on his console.

He hands over his main controller and gestures to Choso.

“Pick whatever profile photo you want.”

Sticking his tongue to the left in the exact way Itadori does when he’s concentrating, Choso flicks over the right joystick to search through the images.

“Itadori?”

“Yeah, Choso?”

“I don’t see my face.”

“Huh?”

“The photographs.” Choso points to the screen. “Where am I?”

Itadori blinks before he realizes.

“Oh! You… don’t, ha. You pick a character.” He pauses. “Like how you choose a thimble or a car and stuff in Monopoly.”

Choso sucks in a sharp inhale and nods in understanding before fluttering through a few more options with more confidence.

He settles over a photo of Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider series before clicking it.

“Like this?”

“What, you like Lara?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yeah, she’s kinda super badass.” Itadori takes back the controller to finish up his profile. “My one online friend really likes those games—”

Then, brilliance hits him.

It doesn’t happen often, but today?

Itadori strikes gold.

“Oh, hey — if you want, you can kinda see how me and my one friend play. She’s usually on at this hour. Here.”

He pauses to reach around the couch only to hold out a headset for Choso to take.

“Wear this. It’s my spare.”

With that same inquisitive squint, Choso observes at the headphones with scrutiny.

Itadori showcases how to put them on, popping his RGB headset over his head and squishing his pink hair to his head.

It takes a little finessing with his hairstyle, but Choso does the same. He lets the headphones sit on his head and doesn’t move.

“You good?”

“What?” Choso’s voice shouts over the noise-cancelling feature.

“I said are you—” Itadori pauses, holding up a thumbs up.

Choso blinks. Then his thumb raises.

Good.

Itadori blinks back to the television screen where he signs on as himself — YuuMasterGeneral — before searching for a particular name on his friends list.

Truth be told, he’s only ever talked to this girl.

He has no clue what she looks like in person because he’s never met her in person, but she sounds pretty nice.

After Grandpa got sick, there wasn’t much to do around the house.

Sitting in a quiet house wasn’t cutting it, so Itadori tried his hand at online gaming lobbies.

Most of them sucked.

Most of them were full of assholes.

But he got lucky — an older girl that went by the moniker of Iris was nice enough to join his team.

That first night, they talked for hours about nothing in particular. Eventually he told her about his grandpa, and she added him as a friend. Iris told him to poke her whenever she was on so he had someone to play with.

Honestly? It was exactly the kind of lifeline he needed at the time.

After that, he gamed with Iris pretty regularly. Although they mostly game, sometimes they chat about their other hobbies. He's learned she has a full-time job, just recently graduating from university. A few times she's given a sprinkle of real life advice, from an adult figuring it out a couple of steps ahead of a teenager.

He felt safe. Seen.

He and Iris have been friends ever since.

Iris was good at gaming. Like, impossibly good.

So good she’d probably even beat Nobara.

But she wasn’t obnoxious about her wins, which was why Itadori enjoyed chatting with her so much.

Last time he talked to her was maybe six weeks ago. She’d been busy with her day job, but Itadori had been really busy with… well, everything to do with sorcery.

Surely she wouldn’t get weirded out about showing his older brother the ropes, right?

Iris was a private person, something Itadori could very respect, but he felt comfortable enough to invite her into this little debacle of his life now that Choso was going to be a permanent member of his family.

IRISSIRI IS ONLINE.

“Oh, cool, she’s on.”

“Who?” Choso asks, pushing a headphone off of his ear so he can hear Yuuji properly.

“My friend, Iris,” Itadori explains as he clicks to invite her to a party chat.

He then adds Choso, whose eyes widen at the magical sound of his little brother’s voice suddenly coming through the headset clear as day.

“This sounds…” 

Choso trails off, blinking as he hears the echo of his own voice.

Itadori laughs and leans over to mess with his settings once more. 

“Sorry — gotta mute yourself, buddy, otherwise we’ll get an echo going.”

Then a tiny chime sounds, and the brothers simultaneously stare at the television.

“Hello?”

Her voice is smooth as honey and soft, like she’s surprised to get the call.

Itadori immediately perks up, but he notices how Choso doesn’t move.

He just… stares, lips parted.

“Iris!” he greets excitedly. “Hey! Long time, no chat.”

“Yuuji,” she greets in return with a small smile in her voice. “Hey, no kidding. How’s it going? And who’s this…. Guest, person?”

“Oh — I haven’t given him a username yet. Iris, I wanted you to meet my big brother, Choso. Choso, this is my online friend Iris.”

He turns his head to look at Choso in the glow of the tv, but his brows furrow when he notices the pale complexion of Choso’s face turn a warm pink.

“Choso?” she asks, and Choso’s throat bobs.

Maybe he’s nervous about new people?

He’s never really been that nervous before.

“I didn’t know you had siblings!”

“Ha, yeah, it’s a complicated situation,” Itadori explains before flicking up his microphone stick so he can whisper directly to Choso: “You can speak in the microphone, you know.”

Choso clears his throat, his pink face turning scarlet in stark contrast to the black stripe across the bridge of his nose, before nodding. 

“....I’m his big brother.”

“Cool, cool,” she chides in return, and Itadori can’t even believe what he’s seeing:

His older brother practically melts in his seat as he presses a hand gently to his headphone as if to push it closer to his ear.

"It’s super nice to meet you, big brother Choso.”

Choso bites his lower lip and glances up at the screen. “You… have a really pretty voice—”

Uh oh.

Abort mission.

Itadori flies off of the end of the couch to quickly flick his microphone up to mute them both for a little familial aside. “Dude!”

Choso’s surprised, still sporting the blush. 

“What?”

“You can’t hit on my online friend!”

“I wasn’t hitting anyone, I was talking!” Choso hisses right back under his breath.

“Hitting on, not hitting!"

"Whatever!"

"Look: telling my friend she has a pretty voice is a little weird, okay?”

Suddenly the man looks a little worried. “It is?”

Itadori nods. “Yeah. Girls get bothered online all the time. Just… be cool.” 

He slowly drops his microphone back down.

Choso deflates and nods.

“Sorry about that! Yeah, no, he’s never played video games before so I thought we could show him how it’s done.”

“It's fine. But wait: he’s never played video games before?” Iris asks over her mic with a little laugh. “Seriously?”

Choso smiles small at that.

It’s lopsided and goofy. 

Itadori feels like he’s in the twilight zone.

“Did he live under a rock?” she adds in a gentle tease.

“Something like that.” Yuuji tells her, quickly loading up Fortnite for a game of Duos so Choso can listen and watch. “He’ll just hang with us while we play, if that’s cool with you?”

“So long as he doesn’t mind me asking him questions while we play,” Iris replies, sending a quick game invite to Itadori’s screen.

Both Itadori and Choso stare at one another.

Choso points at himself.

Itadori nods and points at him.

“Me?” Choso asks in a bit of a confused voice.

“Well, I’ve known your little brother for two years now, but I don’t exactly know you, ” Iris explains. “In a way, I kinda felt like his far-away big sister, so I'm happy to know he's got someone looking after him. So how old are you?”

Choso sits up a little taller.

“I'm one hundred and fif—”

“The same age as you!” Itadori chirps, cutting Choso off. “He’s twenty five.”

He can not have his normie friends find out about curse spirits and all of that insanity.

Itadori’s just grateful Sukuna never appeared cackling at his cheek in the middle of an intense match to make a pass out of bad taste.

Choso looks absolutely confused, but he slowly nods in tandem with Itadori’s pleading nod.

“...yes, I am... twenty-five years old.”

“Sweet, same age,” Iris chirps, and that goofy little look shows up on Choso’s face again.

(What gives, dude?!)

“And you’ve never played a single game before?” she asks as they load into the next lobby.

“I like Life.”

“The board game?”

“Yeah.”

“I was so bad at that game.”

“The spinner can really put you in debt,” Choso agrees with a solemn nod—

And Iris giggles.

Itadori blinks.

As he departs his character from the sky bus at the location Iris placed on the map, his lips begin to pull down to a grimace.

He’s never heard her laugh like that.

Not even when she's put toxic guys to shame and made them rage quit in Call of Duty.

“How did you meet my younger brother?” Choso asks, suddenly emboldened by the laugh.

“We met in a Destiny 2 lobby, actually,” Iris explains happily. “He helped me with a few of my bigger raids. When I found out the kid was fifteen-something, I felt like I had to make sure no one was a jerk to him in any future lobbies.”

“So you protected him?” Choso murmurs with surprise.

“More like shepherded him through games, sorta like a—”

“—big sister would,” Choso finishes for her.

“Kind of! Like I said earlier, Yuuji’s a good kid. And he’s really solid at playing games.” Iris clears her throat. “Yuuji, six o’clock. There is a drop over there.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“Yuuji.”

“Miss!” Itadori corrects. “I mean Miss!”

“Jesus, he acts like I’m fifty sometimes,” Iris bemoans, and Choso smirks.

“Yeah. He acts like I’m a hundred and fifty,” the older man cheekily replies, and Itadori scowls.

On Itadori’s screen, they watch as a potential enemy rounds the corner of the building Itadori’s looting —

He doesn't act fast enough to attack —

But suddenly they fall to their knees, before bursting into confetti with all of their items strewn about.

K.O. 

They both hear Iris whistle from her microphone. 

“Respect your elders, kid.”

“Thanks, Eye. I didn’t realize there were people on my spot,” Itadori chimes.

Yeah.

Because he’s too busy listening to Choso act like he’s going to eat the mic to get closer to Iris —

And the fact that his online friend, his very normal friend, is giggling the way some girls giggle whenever…

They look…

At Gojo-sensei.

Itadori stops moving his thumbs on the controller, too deep in thought to play as Iris carries them.

She's scoping perimeters while he's busy putting the puzzle pieces together.

He's blushing.

She's giggling.

His Mikasa Ackerman avatar gets shot down, and Iris is shouting that she's coming back to save him —

But his eyes are on the guy opposite to him on the couch staring intently.

Not at the game, no.

At Iris’ little avatar that shows up every time she speaks.

Her icon's a little chibi Lara Croft.

Kind of like his generic Lara Croft icon.

Some weirdly-fated choice in a sea of happenstances.

Huh.

Wait a second.

"Hey, Choso, do you mind taking over for me in the next game?"

Choso whips his attention, eyes widening with uncertainty. "Me?"

Iris laughs again, and Itadori sees it in real-time: that butterfly-in-your-stomach goofy face, smack dab on Choso's lips.

"I'm down if you're down, Choso."

Quickly he takes the glowing controller from his younger brother and straightens up. "I can learn."

"Just don't go running off on me on the map, alright?" Iris requests playfully. "Stick with me and we'll easily get to last twenty."

"I won't fail you," Choso promises with a nod.

Itadori crosses his arms, observing and listening to Iris explain the game gently to Choso.

Although she was just as gentle with him, Itadori can hear something different in her voice. It's like she's trying to get Choso to answer her so he can talk. She asks him questions that will get him to talk more and more, until they're having a full-blown conversation without Itadori in sight.

Interesting.

He likes her voice, that much he's deduced.

But does she like his voice, too?

Something's happening here.

The cogs are turning.

Maybe —

Just maybe —

Yuuji Itadori can actually be a real, bonafide wingman.

.

[chestcongestion]

Practical Ill Effects: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Finally finished! The "faking someone else's sickness" trope with Al/ast/or. Fic is under the cut as always, I had a lot of fun working with this and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! ^^

Word count: 6.5K

Content warnings: Manipulation/ Gaslighting, Drugging, Food tampering (This whole fic is basically "Al/ast/or gets gaslit for 6 thousand words")

“This blows,” Angel scoffed, sitting on top of a dumpster in an alley that was a brisk walk away from the hotel. Husk was sitting on the dumpster to his right, and Niffty was running around in circles, stepping on ants with her tiny feet. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Husk said, taking a swig of whiskey from his flask before slipping it back into his pocket. 

The trio of demons were gathered in the alley for a meeting of minds of sorts. In two days, Charlie and Vaggie would be leaving with Lucifer on a trip to the Wrath Ring, and while they were gone, the rest of the group would be heading to LuLu World as a reward for their incredible progress. 

However, Vaggie was skeptical about the group behaving themselves in public without a ‘sane, responsible adult present’, and elected to- ironically- put Alastor in charge of chaperoning them for the trip, something the Radio Demon took glee in accepting. 

“How he is the responsible one out of the four of us, I have no fuckin’ idea,” Husk grumbled, folding his arms. 

“Maybe it’s just ‘cause he’s the oldest,” Niffty offered. 

“We’re all basically the same age, that’s bullshit,” Angel replied, massaging his temples, “How’re we gonna ditch ‘im?” 

“Ooo! We could hit him in the head with something heavy! Like a piano!” Niffty proposed, jittering in place at the idea. 

“This ain’t a cartoon, Niff, we’re not droppin’ a piano on his head,” Angel argued, “I don’t think he’ll let us get close enough to ‘im to do somethin’ like that anyways.” 

Husk leaned back against the brick wall behind the dumpster, a mischievous grin spreading onto his feline face, “Charlie’d probably force him to stay behind and let us go on our own if he was sick,” he said. 

“But he ain’t,” Angel replied. 

“Who says Charlie has to know that?” Husk said, his smile widening as he hopped off of the dumpster, dusting off the seat of his pants. 

“But he’d just tell ��er he’s fine,” Angel said, still sounding skeptical. 

“He’d do that anyways, he’d insist that he’s fine even if you were wavin’ positive test results in his face… if anything, that’ll help,” Husk explained, cracking his knuckles, “I think I’ve got an idea.” 

“Alright, spill, I’m all ears,” Angel said, kicking his feet as Husk paced back and forth between the dumpsters. 

“I know that fucker’s allergic to oak moss… he used to force me to shower every time I tried to wear cologne,” Husk grumbled, “If all three of us wore it… just a little, it’d be enough to set him off without anybody noticing.” 

“O ooo, that’s so bad, I love it,” Angel said, sighing wistfully as he hopped down from his dumpster perch, stretching out his back. 

“That ain’t the entire plan, but it is the first step, I’m gonna have to explain it quick, that motherfucker’s always eavesdropping,” Husk explained. 

After a brief huddle, the triad of demons went back into the hotel through the rear entrance, disappearing into separate rooms for about an hour. 

Later on that evening, Alastor was sitting in his armchair in the parlor and reading a book, when Husk wandered downstairs, taking his station at the bar and taking inventory of the bottles, gently ruffling his wings. 

Alastor sniffled quietly, swiping a finger under his nostrils before returning to his book. 

“Feet up, Alastor! I need to get a stain out of the carpet!” Niffty requested, ducking underneath Alastor’s feet and scrubbing away at the rug with a washcloth, the smear of oak moss perfume oil that Husk placed on the back of her neck wafting up towards Alastor. 

Alastor sniffled a bit harder, his sinuses and the back of his throat beginning to itch, “Hmm,” he hummed to himself, getting up from his chair and swallowing experimentally, feeling a scratchiness in the back of his throat.

“Heya Alastor, Fat Nuggets stole one ‘o your slippers earlier, wanted to let ya’ know I put it back,” Angel said, gently pushing up his chest fluff, pretending to glance at Alastor’s hair, “I’ve been meanin’ to ask… was this your natural color back when you were alive?” 

While looking, Angel gently reached around and smeared a bit of oak moss perfume residue on the back of Alastor’s neck, pretending to reach out and touch his red locks. 

Alastor sniffled, nudging Angel away with his microphone and struggling to keep his hands away from his twitching nose, “Hh… H-hihh… No, no it wasn’t, my hair was dark brown, thank you… hHih!” he replied, covering his nose and mouth with one hand when the oak moss fumes from the oil on his neck made his nose start to run, a speedy trickle threatening to run all the way down to his chin.

“You alright, Smiles?” Angel asked, fluffing out his hair and watching as another mist of allergenic droplets wafted into Alastor’s face. 

“Y-Yihh… Ehh… Hh!!” Alastor paused, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping off his drippy nostrils before accidentally letting out a heavy, congested sniffle, “SDdfFF! SnFF-SnrRK!” 

A silence fell over the room, and Alastor wanted to disappear under the floorboards. What was happening to him? He couldn’t smell anything suspicious before and with the sudden rush of congestion, he certainly wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future. 

“You didn’t hear that,” Alastor threatened, feeling another bloom of histamine tickling his nose, “SnFF-SnFF! Hehh… Ehh…H-hehh!” Alastor fanned a hand in front of his face, the overwhelming urge to sneeze building to a crescendo so quickly that he didn’t have time to teleport someplace to hide- as a matter of fact, the urge was so great he ended up dropping his microphone to free up both hands. 

Angel opened his mouth to make a sly remark, only to be interrupted by a harsh feedback sound as Alastor was thrown into a sneezing fit. 

“H-hehh’KZzhht! He-eh’KTxhhiew! Eh’KzZHht! Hnk’Kxhht-sShew!” Alastor sneezed, straightening his posture and wiping hopelessly at his streaming nose, “Sdfff…SnFF!” 

“Gesundheit,” Husk said casually, holding in his laughter as he centered his focus on cleaning beer mugs, “Never heard you let loose like that around so many people.” 

“Awww, maybe he’s warmin’ up to us, in’t that sweet?” Angel crooned, sneakily reaching out and tracing a heart on Alastor’s chest with his oil-contaminated hand before Alastor slapped it away. 

“Oh hush, I simply didn’t have the time to use any discre-ehh… E-Eh’KXHHT-sShhiew!” Alastor replied, punctuating his sentence with a particularly wet, heavy sneeze, right when Charlie wandered into the room. 

“Bingo,” Husk whispered to himself, knowing that Alastor’s ears were just stuffy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear it. 

“Oh, Bless you, Alastor!” Charlie exclaimed, “I heard someone sneeze a couple minutes ago, I didn’t realize it was you.” 

“Thank you- SnFF!- pardon me, I’m not sure what came over me to cause that… outburst,” Alastor replied, turning away from Charlie to blow his nose, expecting to yield no results, only to wince at the gurgling rumble of congestion leaving his sinuses, his handkerchief growing damp before he pulled away, “Euch…” 

Charlie remained silent for a moment, as though mentally shuffling through responses and making sure she didn’t pick one out that reflected her quiet disgust, “That was… a lot… are you feeling okay? Sounds like you might be getting a cold,” she probed, noticing the irritated skin on Alastor’s nose.  

“Of course n’dot- SnFF!- of course not, I’m perfectly fine, there’s just… something in this room that appears to be irritating a sensitivity of mine,” Alastor replied, somehow giving off a perfect mixture of nonchalant and offended. 

“You’re only set off by strong scents: lavender, teakwood, citronella, oak moss, the kinda shit you really only find in perfume and cologne,” Husk argued, fighting tooth and nail to hide his amused smile, “If somethin’ like that was in here, we’d all be able to smell it.” 

“That’s true, I don’t smell anything out of the ordinary here,” Charlie observed. 

“Hmph! Well thed… SnFF!” Alastor replied, an indignant scowl on his face as he scrubbed at his nostrils with the back of his hand, “I’m n’dot exactly sure what it could be.” 

“Maybe you should head to bed early tonight! Extra rest always helps me when I’m fighting something,” Charlie offered, “Hopefully you can kick it before it settles.” 

“Of course,” Alastor said with a sigh, “Thank you for the recommendation, Charlotte.”  

“No problem!” Charlie replied, turning to leave the room when Alastor’s nose began to twitch again. 

“h-HiIhh’Kxzzhhtt-SsCHEW! Ih’Kxhht-SscHiEW!” Alastor sneezed, gently rubbing his irritated nose. 

“Bless you!” Charlie said before vanishing through the doorway.  

“Th- Tha…ank- Hih’xXSschew! Hi-IH’KxXHHT!” Alastor replied, wrinkling his nose with a damp, heavy sniffle, rubbing at his watery eyes with the heel of his palm before vanishing into his own shadow. 

“That was almost too easy,” Angel chuckled in a hushed voice. 

“It only gets easier,” Husk snickered, pouring a glass of rye whiskey and stirring it with a contaminated claw before leaving it on the bar counter as bait.

“Alright, as fun as this is, I’m takin’ a shower, this stuff is so sticky it’s mattin’ my fur,” Angel scoffed, arching his back to stretch as he wandered up the stairs, Husk following after him. 

Niffty, left to her own devices, skipped into the hotel’s basement to chase after families of cockroaches and centipedes with a broom, swatting at them even as the night stretched onward. 

A few hours later, Husk and Angel were curled up in Angel’s bed- Angel scrolling listlessly through his phone while Husk kneaded at the mattress and sheets with his large paws- when they heard a sound coming from a few doors down. 

Husk’s ear twitched, and his eyes widened as he attempted to focus on the sound, sitting up in bed and waiting in breathless silence. 

“What’s up-” Angel began to ask, only for Husk to shush him, tilting his head to the side and twitching his left ear, “What is it?” Angel whispered. 

The sound of wheezy, irritated, desperate coughing from the other room became audible, making Husk’s face melt into a smug smile, the ticklish coughs occasionally being muffled by bursts of static.  

“He drank the whiskey,” Husk whispered, stretching out a bit further in bed and waiting patiently. 

“khff…Khff-Khff…KHHFF!” 

“Bullseye,” Husk yawned, gently pawing at the air in front of him before nuzzling against Angel’s fluffy torso and dozing off, with Angel following close behind.

Alastor, however, had managed to cough himself awake. He felt as though he was losing his mind- eyes watering, nose streaming, and his throat so unbearably itchy that it couldn’t be soothed even after inflating his bladder with glass after glass of water. 

“Oh for- Khhff!- goodness sake- KHFF! Khff…khff!” Alastor muttered to himself, pacing in a tight circle and trying to muffle his ceaseless coughing behind both of his hands, his struggle stretching across the entire night until the tickle in his throat managed to fade around sunrise. 

Leaning against the back of his armchair, Alastor attempted to straighten his posture and stand on his own two feet, finger-combing his hair and feeling around on his person for his handkerchief to blow his hopelessly stuffy nose. 

“I have n’do clue what’s happend’ig… Snff!” Alastor said, pinching his handkerchief around his nostrils and letting out a heavy, wet blow, feeling his sinus cavity vibrate from the release, “hh…H-hihh… Hi-Ih’DddTsSchiEW! Hnk’tchhew!”  

With his nose still buried in his handkerchief and exhaustion tugging at his heels, Alastor bit the bullet and wandered downstairs to start his day in earnest. 

Upon arriving downstairs, Alastor grabbed his favorite mug and quietly filled it with water, taking slow sips in an attempt to drown the scratchy sensation in his throat and sinus cavity- to no avail- as people slowly entered the room after him. 

“Good Morning, Alastor!” Charlie greeted with her usual bouncy and colorful demeanor, rocking back and forth on her heels, “Feeling any better?” 

“Yes, a good night’s sleep was all I needed,” Alastor replied, looking away from Charlie to avoid dwelling on the exhaustion that was weighing him down, making his steps and movements seem much slower, much more deliberate. 

Charlie shot a brief glance at the dark rings underneath Alastor’s eyes, “Are you sure you got any sleep? You were coughing a lot last night,” she probed. 

Alastor felt a pit open up in his stomach, but maintained his nonchalant expression and scoffed, “Nonsense- snff!- I slept incredibly peacefully last night, you must have heard someone else.” 

Charlie looked unconvinced, but turned to Husk and Angel with a shrug, “Was it you guys?” she asked. 

Husk laughed, “Nope, those were too dry to be mine,” he said, letting out a sharp exhale that rattled his lungs, “Not after a life and afterlife of puffin’ on cigars.” 

“They were too normal to be mine,” Angel said with a scoff, “Every time I start coughin’ it sounds like a seal fucked a chew toy.” 

“Dad went out last night and didn’t come home until morning, and it was a male voice… so it had to be you, Alastor,” Charlie insisted, “Maybe you were just coughing in your sleep, so you didn’t notice.”  

Alastor swallowed, silently cursing the stinging sensation that radiated through his raw throat, “I suppose so,” he said, relenting as his left ear twitched slightly, “Regardless, I’m still feeling much be-eehh… EH’KXxht-shhiew! Eh’KzZhht-Sshew!” 

Husk snickered as he watched Alastor blearily wipe his nose, watery mess trickling into his handkerchief as friction from the fabric reddened his sensitive nostrils. 

“Bless you, Alastor,” Charlie said, “It’s okay if you’re still feeling sick, you don’t have to hide it. As long as it doesn’t get any worse you’ll still be okay to go to Lulu World with everyone!” 

“Mbarvelous- snff!” Alastor replied, blowing his nose into his handkerchief until the fabric was damp and the sensitive skin on his nose began to burn from the constant rubbing. 

Charlie vanished upstairs, having a few more things to pack for her trip, leaving the scheming trio of sinners to enact the next phase of their plan. 

Two hours after his conversation with Charlie, Alastor was relaxing in his armchair in the parlor, reading a book he’d been meaning to finish. Annoyingly, every few pages Alastor was forced to set the book down, using his finger as a bookmark, to scrub furiously at his nose with the heel of his palm in an attempt to quell the persistent itching, or to desperately cover a wet sneeze with the back of his wrist. 

“E-ehh’Kxhht-chew! EH’Kxhht-Sshew!” Alastor sneezed, his stomach churning with disgust after he looked at the damp patch of fabric on his sleeve from soaking up about thirty sneezes’ worth of spray.

Suddenly, Alastor felt a tug on his pant leg, and he looked down through rheumy eyes to see Niffty, eagerly clutching a container of ice cream. 

“Hello Ndiffty- snff!- pardon mbe… what can I do for you?” Alastor asked, quietly twirling a stray lock of Niffty’s hair around his finger. 

“Nothing… I just wanted to see if you wanted this butter pecan ice cream, I found it while I was clearing out the freezer!” Niffty offered, handing Alastor the small pint of ice cream and a spoon. 

Alastor licked his lips, butter pecan was a classic, and it was one of the only sugary things he considered an exception in his indifference towards sweets. Plus, the thought of smooth, cool ice cream cascading down his scratchy throat sounded heavenly. 

After a reluctant glance away, Alastor dug into the ice cream, eating spoonful after spoonful with so much gusto that he didn’t notice that the ice cream container was not properly sealed. 

“It’s delicious, thank you Niffty… He-EH’KXHHT-Chhew!... pardon mbe,” Alastor sighed, scraping the bottom of the ice cream container for one last spoonful before Niffty plucked the empty carton out of his hands. 

After Niffty scurried away to continue cleaning, Alastor returned to his book, thumbing through the pages and pausing every so often to sneeze, until he felt a drowsiness come over him like a dreary fog. Alastor yawned, stretching out in his armchair and rubbing his eyes. 

Three pages later, Alastor yawned again, suddenly fighting to keep his eyelids up as each blink seemed to drag on just a bit longer than the last. 

“Ehh…Eh’kxhh-shhew! Hnk’tshew!” 

Alastor rubbed at his raw nostrils with his cold, damp handkerchief, muttering drowsily at his waning energy seemingly affecting his sneezes. 

Two more pages and another intense yawn later, and Alastor finally lost the battle against his own body, drooping his head to one side and falling fast asleep, still loosely clutching his book in one hand and snoring softly- the snores occasionally being interrupted by a congested sniffle.  

Niffty smiled from her position on the other side of the room dusting the curtains, quickly racing upstairs before coming back down with Husk and Angel following behind her. 

“Look, I did it! That was easy!” Niffty cheered, clapping for herself as her two friends stared in awe at the unconscious Radio Demon. 

“How the hell’d you get him to sleep?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I crushed up some of Husk’s gabapentin, some Hell-Dryl, and a couple of sleeping pills into a carton of ice cream!  He ate the whole thing!” Niffty explained. 

“You are one twisted little doll, y’know that?” Husk asked, ruffling Niffty’s hair, “He’d kill us if he knew we were doin’ this.” 

“Welp, he don’t, so we’re fine,” Angel snickered, pulling out his plugged-in curling iron and holding the hot metal close to Alastor’s face until he could see a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and flush on Alastor’s cheeks to match his friction-reddened nose. Carefully, Angel moved the exposed metal over and brushed it against the insides of Alastor’s ears.

“I’ll be damned, if I didn’t know about this, I’d be convinced… he looks pathetic,” Husk said, watching Alastor’s chest rise and fall as he peacefully snored, “Hurry and go get ‘er before his ears cool down, I’ll hide the curling iron.” 

“Got it,” Angel replied, handing Husk the iron before quietly practicing his lines to himself, putting on a skeptical but concerned face, and wandering hurriedly up the stairs, “Charlie?!” he called out, disappearing around a corner. 

“He’s a damn good actor when he’s not readin’ someone else’s trash script, I’ll tell you that much,” Husk mumbled, stashing the curling iron behind the bar counter on a heat-safe cloth and pretending to look busy, grabbing a beer mug and polishing it with a rag right as Charlie followed Angel into the parlor from upstairs. 

“Oh, Angel, you’re right, he looks awful,” Charlie crooned, pressing her hands against her cheeks in dismay, “And he’d never fall asleep just out in the open like this, either…” 

Alastor, still unconscious, shuddered a bit due to a residual chill from demolishing the pint of ice cream so quickly. 

“He’s shaking,” Charlie said, sympathy dripping from her every word as she carefully reached out and pressed her palm against Alastor’s artificially-warmed forehead, feeling the heat and sweat on his skin, “He feels warm, too.” 

“Want me to go get the ear thermometer?” Angel offered, celebrating internally when Charlie shook her head. 

“No, no need, we’re already pushing our luck as it is, Alastor hates being touched… he obviously has a fever, I don’t need to know the specifics until he wakes up,” Charlie said, “This is horrible, he was so excited to go to Lulu World with you guys.” 

“It’s a damn shame,” Angel said solemnly, “We’ll bring back somethin’ for ‘im.” 

“Awww, that’s sweet,” Charlie replied, smiling before turning her attention to Husk, “Do you think you can keep things in order while you guys are at the park? I don’t want you guys to miss out on your fun time just because Al has to stay home.” 

“No worries Princess, I got it,” Husk said with a confident smile. 

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” Charlie said with a sigh, looking at Alastor’s unconscious, snoring form and wincing with discomfort at the strange angle the Radio Demon was positioned in, “He’d be so much more comfortable in bed, but I don’t wanna wake him up.”  

Husk quietly shook Alastor’s shoulder as an experiment to see how much movement he would tolerate before he woke up, looking pleasantly surprised when Alastor didn’t react- the cocktail of drugs he’d been given had lulled him into a comfortable and deep sleep. 

“I think if I’m careful, I can just-” Husk scooped Alastor up into his arms, supporting his back with one hand and his knees with the other, “-there we go. I got ‘im from here, I’ve done this song and dance a couple times before when he was drunk.” 

“Oh, thank you so much, Husk, that’s so nice!” Charlie replied, clasping her hands together as a warm smile spread across her face, “I have to finish packing, but I’ll come check on him later.” 

Husk gave Charlie an understanding nod as she disappeared up the stairs. Once Charlie was gone, Husk carried Alastor upstairs and opened the door to his room one-handed. 

Husk rummaged through Alastor’s clothes until he found a pair of linen pajamas, removing Alastor’s suit and slacks and changing him into the pajamas in about four minutes. 

Once Alastor was dressed for bed, Husk sighed, peering into the dense brush of the wet Louisiana forest pocket dimension that occupied the other side of Alastor’s room. “Where the hell’d you move your bed to this time?” Husk inquired rhetorically, balancing Alastor’s sleeping form on his hip before venturing into the forest. 

“Snff…Snff-snff!” Alastor’s pitiful sniffling could be heard from his position with his head resting against Husk’s shoulder. 

Husk rolled his eyes, peering around bushes and behind trees until he found Alastor’s bed in a corner near a stream, hidden slightly by a curtain of hanging plants. Husk peeled back the duvet and sheets from their position neatly tucked underneath the pillows, gently laid Alastor down onto his mattress, and pulled the covers back up until they reached the Radio Demon’s shoulders. 

“There we go,” Husk said with a triumphant smile, “Nighty night, sucker.” 

Laughing at his victory, Husk wandered out of the dense forest, folding Alastor’s suit, vest, and slacks before placing the neatly folded clothes on a chair up against the wall, shutting off the lights, and closing the door behind him. 

Alastor remained peacefully asleep, his congestion clearing up and his hopelessly itchy throat returning to normal as the allergens on his clothes were no longer present to irritate his system. 

In the blissful darkness of Alastor’s room, his shadow slipped out from underneath his bed frame, a mischievous smile on its face as it pulled back the covers on Alastor’s bed and unbuttoned his pajama shirt. 

A cool breeze swept through the humid air in the forest, sending a chill down Alastor’s spine as he slept. Shuddering, Alastor curled in on himself in an attempt to stay warm as the cool air hit the exposed skin on his chest and neck. 

“Hnk’tchew! Hnk’tshiww!” 

Alastor’s nose twitched, and he sleepily rubbed the back of his hand against it to ward off a building itch before falling back into his deep slumber as the chilled air continued to blow on his sweat-dampened skin. 

Early the next morning, Alastor woke up to the sight of Charlie jostling his shoulders while standing at his bedside. 

“Mm… what time is it? When did I get here?” Alastor asked with a scratchy yawn, rubbing his eyes.  

“Husk brought you to bed yesterday after you dozed off downstairs,” Charlie explained, “They left for Lulu World already, but I didn’t want to leave for our trip until you woke up.” 

“They left without mbe?!” Alastor asked, moving to get out of bed, only for Charlie to press a hand against his bare chest, gently pushing him back against his pillows. 

“Yes, Husk promised he’d keep everything under control, but they left without you,” Charlie said, “I’m sorry, Alastor, I know it’s disappointing but you really shouldn’t be out and about while you’re this sick.” 

“I explained this before, Charlie, I amb perfectly he-ehh…Eh’Kxhht-shhew! Eh’KzZht-chiew! EH’KXHHT-SHEW!” Alastor argued, pawing around on his bed for his handkerchief as his nose began to run, “snff!” 

“Yeah, this is what ‘perfectly healthy’ sounds like,” Charlie scoffed, “I hate to break it to you Alastor, but you’ve been sniffling and sneezing for three days now-” cautiously, Charlie held the back of her hand up to Alastor’s forehead, “-and you have a fever. You’re sick, there’s nothing wrong with that, it happens to everyone.” 

Alastor folded his arms, refusing to look Charlie in the eyes, “If you say so,” he muttered.

“Will you be okay by yourself? I can call Rosie and ask her to come over if you want, I just want to make sure you’ll be alright before we leave,” Charlie offered.

“I’ll be fide, thank you- snff! Snff!- pardon mbe,” Alastor said, grumbling as he pulled a handkerchief out of the ether, pinching the fabric around his nose and letting out a heavy, gurgling blow, “Uch…e-Eh’KZzhht-chew!” 

“Alright, if you say so,” Charlie said in reply, stepping away from Alastor’s bed, “Call us if you need anything, okay?” 

“Alright, have a ndice trip- snff!” Alastor said, blowing his nose again as Charlie and Vaggie left the hotel to meet Lucifer outside. Once they were gone, Alastor got out of bed, staggering a bit once he got to his feet. He felt strangely tired, almost weak. 

“I know those scoundrels were up to sombething- snrkk!- I ab ndot sick,” Alastor grumbled to himself, only to pause when a sudden chill made him shiver, buttoning up his pajama shirt and tugging on his red dressing gown, sighing in relief at the comfortable warmth of the plush fabric. 

“I should go to that park and give those three a piece of mby mbind,” Alastor said, balling his fists and pacing back and forth across his floor, “Eh’KzZhht-chhiew!” 

Alastor’s ears twitched as he waned, rubbing at his eyes and deciding against going out, “I can always just-” he yawned, “-give themb a piece of mby mbind when they get back… snff!” 

Alastor wandered downstairs into the kitchen, forgoing his usual mug of coffee for a cup of tea, deciding that the fragrant vapors and smoother texture would be more helpful against his hopelessly plugged sinuses and the throbbing sensation in the back of his throat. 

‘I am not sick, everyone gets a little… irritated when they’ve just woken up, I’m fine’ 

Alastor picked up his mug of tea, only for his shadow to quietly slide the jar of honey over to him, gesturing towards it. 

“I don’t wandt a’dy hondey- snff!- guhh…The tea is fide by itself,” Alastor argued, turning away to clear his throat. 

Alastor’s shadow looked away, rolling its nonexistent eyes before wrapping its incorporeal fingers around Alastor’s neck, raising its eyebrows and gesturing back to the jar of honey. 

“Mby throat isd’t sore- snff! Snrkk!- euch… hold od-” Alastor said, turning away to blow his nose with a heavy rumble of congestion that eventually devolved into a loud honk, “There, much better.” 

Alastor’s shadow folded its arms, looking at him incredulously. 

“It isn’t!” Alastor yelled, his voice straining until he coughed into his wrist, swallowing harshly and wincing at how dry and tender his throat felt. His shadow snickered at him, smirking. 

Alastor relented, ceding a bit of ground, “I suppose- khff!- it is a bit scratchy,” he said, staring longingly at the jar of honey before grabbing the stirrer and drizzling about a tablespoon’s worth of honey into his tea. 

Alastor sighed when his shadow began to snicker playfully again, staring at him with a knowing smile. 

“This doesn’t mean anything- snff!- I am not sick, I’m not, I’m fine… E-Eh’Kxhht-ChHIEW! EH’KZzs-Sshew!” Alastor argued, running the back of his hand under his nostrils before he took a lengthy sip of his tea, relieved by the smooth sensation cascading down his raw throat, “Mmm…” 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so frazzled, it’s the cat’s pajamas, I’ve gotta say,” 

Alastor blinked, looking around the room, “Who said that? Show yourself!” he demanded, setting down his cup and chewing on his tongue as sweat began to trickle down his forehead. 

“Oh calm down, mes amis, you know me, I’m right here,” 

Alastor looked ahead of him and saw his shadow, still technically attached to his heels, staring at him with a playful smirk. 

“You can’t talk, don’t toy with me, who are you?” Alastor asked, jabbing at his shadow with his microphone, grumbling in frustration when his weapon of choice simply phased through the dark figure’s torso, “You… you can talk?” 

“Of course I can,” the shadow replied, “I just save it for special occasions, like when you’re living in denial, trying to convince yourself that you can change reality if you ignore it hard enough.” 

“What are you going on about?” Alastor asked, “snff-snff! SnFF!” 

“Blow your nose already and stop sniffling!” the shadow said with a frustrated hiss, rolling its eyes when Alastor gave his nose another gurgling blow, wiping hopelessly at his nostrils and frowning at the irritated skin that moved down the bridge of his nose to the tip. 

“Mby ndose is just itchyy-Ye-eh’Ksshhew! Eh’KzZshhew!” Alastor argued, blowing his nose again, “Eehh-EH’KzZSshew! Uch… I’b ndot sick, I dond’t care what you think- snff!- if you even have a braid to think with.” 

The shadow scoffed, “Your nose is only itchy because it’s full of cold,” it said, poking the tip of Alastor’s nose, “Just like the rest of you.” 

“Eh’KzZshew! E-ihh’KsShew!” Alastor sneezed, wiping at his nostrils with his soaked handkerchief, “Keep your hands off mbe!” 

“Or what? You’ll sneeze on me? That ship’s sailed ages ago,” the shadow said, poking Alastor’s nose again. 

“e-ehh…Eh…Eeh’KZzhht-CHEW! Eh’KzZsst-ChiEW! E-ehh’KsSshew!” Alastor sneezed, his sinuses irritated and tingly as a feathery tickle lingered in his nose after the third sneeze, causing his nose to twitch, “snff-snff! E-ehh…Hehh… Wh-wha…ehh” 

Alastor’s shadow grinned as he watched the Radio Demon fanning a desperate hand in front of his face, wrinkling and unwrinkling his nose, “Need a hand?” it asked. 

“N-nuhh… H-huhh… Ndo…snff-snff! SnRKK! Ndo I d-du-huhh… Hehh! E-ehh!” Alastor struggled to reply, still resting perfectly on the precipice of a sneeze, “I just… Ha…ahh…a-Ahh-” 

“Have to sneeze? Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” 

“Ndo…I don’t ne-eed your help…H-heh…Ehh…e-ehh!” 

Alastor scrubbed desperately at his nose with his handkerchief and the back of his hand, desperate to quell the ceaseless itching. 

“Fide… help mbe, ple-ease…I-ihh…hehh- hh-” Alastor begged, his rheumy eyes beginning to water as the ticklish hitching continued. 

“Alright, I’ll help you, but you have to admit it first,” the shadow insisted. 

“A-ahh… admi-ihh… admit what?!” 

“That you’re a vulnerable, pathetic, cold-ridden mess, so desperate you need someone to poke your twitchy little nose for you,” 

“SnfF! Ndever- I-ihh… Ehh…H-heh!” Alastor hitched, sniffling hopelessly and grumbling in frustration at his shadow’s smug smile. 

Alastor’s heartbeat quickened as he watched his shadow teasingly trace a finger down the length of his nose, and then around his nostrils, so close that its presence against the sensitive skin made Alastor’s nose twitch and wiggle like a rabbit’s, but not close enough to grant him the satisfaction of the sneeze he’d been stuck on for nearly twelve minutes. 

“Eh…E-ehh..HEHH-!” Alastor hitched again, “F-fide! I have a cold, I admit it- just he-hehhlp- mbe sdeeze!” 

The shadow smiled, poking Alastor’s nose and reclining in midair to watch the fireworks. 

“He-ehh-EH’KZzTCHEW! EH’KzZhhhiew! EH’KXhht-CHEW! H-hEH’KzZsShiew! EH’KZz-TsShIEW!....E-EHH’KZzSsHHEW!” Alastor exploded into a fit of sneezes, his eyes watering profusely and his nose streaming down his face, the undersides of his eyes hopelessly puffy and red. 

“There we go,” the shadow snickered, “How pathetic, I wish you could see yourself.” 

Alastor’s usual facade of neutral amusement fell, and he leapt at his own shadow in a fit of white hot rage, throwing punches at the intangible figure and attempting to strangle it. 

“I’ve had it with you- KhFF!- you insufferable bastard!” Alastor shouted, rolling across the floor of the kitchen, wringing his shadow by its neck until he became exhausted, collapsing against the kitchen floor as his eyelids began to droop, staring at his shadow as it teased him from a safe distance. 

“Alastor?” 

Alastor turned, rolling over to face the kitchen entryway, and sniffling to shift the congestion that threatened to escape from his sinuses, when he saw the concerned face of a familiar friend. 

“Rosie?” Alastor inquired, blinking as he struggled to sit upright, choking back a cough, “What are you doing here?” 

“Charlie gave me a call and said you weren’t feelin’ well, I figured I’d stop by… didn’t expect to see you down there,” Rosie replied, “Did you fall?” 

“Ndo… I was fighting mby shadow,” Alastor said with an angry hiss, “The bastard has been mbocking mbe for hours- E-ehh’KxXhht-CHEW!” 

“Gesundheit!” Rosie said, helping Alastor to his feet and noticing how his legs struggled under his weight, “Your shadow’s been makin’ fun of you?” 

“Yes,” Alastor replied, leaning almost helplessly against Rosie as she supported him with one arm when he managed to hold steady on his feet. 

Rosie looked away from Alastor briefly and rolled her eyes, turning to look at Alastor’s shadow, who simply shrugged in response to Alastor’s accusation, “Well, I’ll straighten ‘im out for you, he should know better than to antagonize a sick person,” she crooned, scratching behind one of Alastor’s ears. 

“Snff! Snff-snff! I’m not sick,” Alastor said, pouting as he wiped off his irritated nostrils with his handkerchief. 

Rosie turned Alastor around to face her and shot him a skeptical look, leaning her head forward as though waiting for him to tell her the truth. 

Alastor scoffed, turning away from Rosie’s piercing dark eyes, “It’s only a cold… E-Eihh’KzZhht-shhew!” he insisted, blowing his nose and wincing at the heavy congestion that left his sinuses and soaked another handkerchief, “A particularly wet one… but still just a cold.” 

Rosie sighed, pressing a manicured hand up against Alastor’s cheek, “Well, you feel a little warm… how about we get you comfortable and put somethin’ in your stomach so you can take a nap?” she said in an all-too-familiar way that Alastor recognized meant he had no choice in the matter. 

“Fine,” Alastor relented, letting Rosie guide him into the parlor and sit him down on the loveseat adjacent to the sofa. Kicking off his slippers, Alastor curled into a reclined position with his back against the loveseat’s armrest. 

Rosie quietly untied and removed Alastor’s dressing gown before draping a blanket over him in its place, “Comfortable?” she asked, watching Alastor yawn as he settled into his new position, his eyelids drooping. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Good,” Rosie said with a triumphant smile, frowning after shooting a glance at the clock on the wall, “Oh goodness, Alastor I’ve gotta split for an important meeting, are you gonna be alright on your own?” 

“I think so- snff!- I feel much better,” 

“Okay, if you’re sure, but I wanna make sure you have this,” Rosie said, handing Alastor a thermos, “It’s tomato soup… I used a blood broth base like I usually do.” 

“Delicious,” Alastor mumbled sleepily, rubbing his face against the side of the thermos, “Mmm…thank you so much Rosiie- E-EHH’KxZzHTT-CHEW! Eh’kZzSshhhew! Pardon me.” 

“My pleasure, anything for such a dear friend,” Rosie whispered, gently stroking Alastor’s feverish cheek, “Get some rest, okay?” 

“I will,” Alastor replied, punctuating his sentence with a hoarse cough before setting the thermos down on the table beside the loveseat and letting out a yawn, “Goodbye Rosie.” 

“See ya ‘round, Alastor! Feel better!” Rosie said, leaving through the front doors, leaving the Radio Demon alone once again. 

Sniffling into his handkerchief, Alastor rolled onto his side, struggling to keep his eyelids open, “I’m so tired,” he yawned to himself, rubbing his slightly puffy eyes, “I suppose nothing bad would happen if I just took a little nap… I’ll be awake when they get home… E-ehh’kZzShew! Eh’kzZht-chew!” 

Alastor shut his eyes, promising himself that he’d only be asleep for a short while as he drifted off and the world went comfortably dark. 

Hours passed by as Alastor relaxed, lost in a deep and relaxing slumber with no sounds to disturb him other than his own irritated coughing and KeeKee’s relaxed purring whenever she nuzzled up to his sleeping form. 

The front doors of the hotel opened, and Husk, Angel and Niffty walked inside. Niffty was carrying a large stuffed dog, jittering in place after a day of devouring caramel apples, funnel cake, and cotton candy with nothing but soda to wash it down with, getting so excited that Husk eventually had to tether her to his pants with a bungee cord. Angel and Husk walked into the hotel behind Niffty, quietly holding hands while Angel clutched a stuffed pig that Husk won him at a ring toss in one of his arms. 

“Alastor’s probably figured us out by now… fun’s over,” Angel said to Husk as the two watched Niffty race upstairs with speed rivaling a stray bullet, “Alastor? We’re back…” 

“Eh- H-he-ihh’KZzzhht-chhew! Eh’KZzShhew! Eh’Kxhht-CHEW!” 

Angel and Husk exchanged a puzzled look, wandering into the parlor to find Alastor curled up comfortably in his position on the loveseat, blowing his nose into his handkerchief. His nose was flushed an irritated red and his cheeks were still rouged from his slight fever, a relaxed smile on his face as he waved at his friends. 

“Oh, you’re back- E-eihh’Kxhhtshhew! ‘Scuse mbe,” Alastor said softly, shifting the congestion in his sinuses with a few wet sniffles, “Did you have fun?” 

“Mmhm,” Husk replied, testing the waters to see whether or not Alastor was aware of their ruse, “You feelin’ alright?” 

Alastor gestured vaguely with his left hand, “A bit better, but not really- snff snff!- I commend you and Angel for your awareness… ‘Kxhht-shhew! ‘KXxhht-sschiew!... you and Charlie seemed to know I was coming down with something before I did,” he said, wiping his nostrils with his handkerchief, “or at least before I was ready to admit it.”

Angel and Husk silently breathed a massive sigh of relief, practically exchanging a telepathic fist bump before turning back to address Alastor. 

“Niffty won ‘ya a stuffed zebra,” Angel piped up, handing the plush animal to Alastor and watching as the slightly-delirious Radio Demon cuddled up to it with a soft smile, “Need anythin’ else before we hit the sack?” 

Alastor shook his head, “I’mb alright- snff!- I’m going to get some more rest, see you both tomorrow morning,” he said with a scratchy yawn, nestling comfortably into his blankets and falling back asleep. 

Angel and Husk turned out the lights in the parlor, tip-toeing past Alastor’s sleeping form, before quietly shaking hands triumphantly. 

“Guess he must’ve actually been gettin’ a cold,” Angel whispered, “Wanna celebrate?” 

Husk noticed the risque expression on Angel’s face, “If you’re quiet, then yes… don’t wanna wake him up if he’s actually sick,” he replied. 

“Sounds like a plan!” Angel replied, planting a kiss on Husk’s cheek as the two quietly hurried upstairs, leaving the parlor and the hotel’s downstairs completely silent. 

Except of course, for Alastor’s congested snoring… interrupted by an occasional- 

“e-Ehhh’Kxhht-shhew!” 

That. By that. 

[the-fiction-witch]

We'll Find Her P4

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Watts Rating - Sad AF! Cute AF Word Count - 3098

I paused before the mirror, taking in the sight of my reflection. I carefully buttoned up my brand-new, crisp eggplant purple button-down shirt, running my fingers over the smooth fabric. The pants of my grey suit hung neatly, freshly ironed by my beautiful wife. I smoothed down my hair one last time, making sure every strand was in place, wanting to look my best for the day ahead.

"My, my someone's looking devilishly handsome," Y/n cooed as she gracefully emerged from the bathroom, I couldn't help but admire her exquisite outfit. She was wearing a snug, deep purple dress that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her vibrant Y/H/C hair was beautifully styled in vintage curls, framing her face like a work of art. To complete her look, she wore a pair of sophisticated grey heels that added an extra touch of elegance, along with a matching grey belt and a dainty grey headband, tying the whole ensemble together with effortless style. "You know about some cute stenographer you're hoping to see Benny?"

I smirked seeing her so stunning, "No, just wanted to look nice and presentable, what about you? Are you planning on flirting with the judge? Or are you just trying to rush things and give every man in there a heart attack?" I smirked wrapping my arms around her,

"No, I just wanted to make sure I matched up with my handsome husband,"

"I love you so much," I cooed,

"I love you too Benny," She smiled,

We shared a kiss and I cuddled up with her as we stood in the full-length mirror, "Usual I am very anti-shopping trips." I began,

"Ohh I know,"

"Yeah, yeah, I am usually very anti-five-hour shopping trips that cost us this much money..."

"But?" she smiled wickedly,

"But... I must admit. We look fucking Sexy."

"Not fair test, you're always sexy,"

"Ohh am I?" I smirked pulling her closer, "We'll you sure would know my sexy little wifey." I cooed kissing all over her neck as she applied a matching purple lipstick, "This colour does suit us,"

"It really does, I may be changing wardrobes,"

"Ohh? My god, it's only taken twenty-six years of knowing you and now you decided it's time to ditch the chess monochrome?"

"I never found a colour that suits me this well," I smirked checking myself out a lot, and Her of course. "yowl" I growled,

"Benny, did you legit just cat growl yourself?" She glared,

"...And you,"

"Come on, we need to get going." She laughed trying to leave but I stopped her, "Yes?"

"Thank you for picking the clothes out, everyone looks really nice and it really suits us all."

"I did my best," She chuckled grabbing my trench coat from the bed for me to slip on, "Very Watts,"

"Humm..." I nodded, "Purple for Violet, Grey for sterling, and black and white... for you and me," I cooed giving her a soft kiss, "I don't know what I'd do without you,"

"I don't either Benny," She cooed,

"And... extra plus, mostly purple for violet today. And no matter what stain you stop on purple it all looks black. Which will be very handy... for water... coffee... red liquids of any kind, you know whatever we encounter today,"

"Benny," She warns,

"You're rule was don't get arrested."

"And I stand by that, Don't get arrested, and if you get a punch or a kick in?"

"One for you too." I nodded,

"That's why I married you," She smiled kissing my cheek before she went to fetch Sterling,

I made my way downstairs and found Violet anxiously fixing her hair. She looked lovely in her sweet little purple dress, which had a flowing teenage style but was similar to Y/n's. I walked over to her and gently helped her place the flower headband in her hair, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful sweetheart,"

"Maybe too beau-"

"Anyone dare to tell my daughter she's too beautiful I will drop-kick his ass."

She laughed,

"You ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "You think they'll let me punch him after?"

"Ohh I do hope so, if not... I do have enough cash to bribe a correction officer." I joked,

"Look who's all dressed up for his big sister's revenge day," Y/n cooed as she brought Sterling in his little suit,

"Court date Mom," Violet smiled,

"same thing," I chuckled, "Look at you! So handsome, all the ladies will be swooning," I smiled cuddling Sterling,

"Everyone ready?"

"Yeah. Let's do this thing." Violet nodded setting the pace as she headed to the car,

"Loving the confidence Sweetheart." I chuckled following her,

The atmosphere in the large wood-lined courtroom was tense, with a significant number of people filling the hall, reflecting the widespread interest in the story of her disappearance. The impending media coverage was expected to be substantial, as evidenced by the presence of journalists from various outlets. Amidst this, the chess review reporter stood out, appearing somewhat out of place among the seasoned journalists. Additionally, her friends from school, local business owners, and other worried parents were also present, underscoring the community's deep concern. Overall, it was a respectable turnout, highlighting the widespread impact of the situation. We sat together as a family, Myself closest to the stand, of course, as there was no way in hell anyone was coming near my daughter without getting through to me first. Violet to my side, Y/n on the end with Sterling in his pram close to the wall, I had wanted to put Violet there but she wanted to be in the middle made her feel more confident than the corner which I understand.

Soon enough, it all began.

First was a jury filled the rows of people of all types which made me feel a little better. Then officers and legal people only one woman which I found interesting for a brief moment and as it happened she was on our side, in fact... they all seemed to be. Then the Judge in his professional clothes, we all stood as he arrived, he seemed a bitter old man who'd rather be playing dominoes as he took the chair.

And at last, in he came.

He was a tall man, not thin but not large either, with pinky pale skin, and uninteresting brown hair, blue eyes, wearing prison clothes and with two items, A bible and a cross necklace. He came to the box for him and smiled around the courtroom to all those who looked at him. We met eyes and he looked through me to see Violet, but I didn't let his gaze escape mine I made him meet my eyes again and as if we shared a thousand words in those brief seconds he looked away in defeat.

"Order, Case 17.14.05.85. Accused Jacob Abraham Whitemore. Stand accused of Kidnapping, Rape of a Minor, Abuse of a Minor, Sexual Abuse of a Minor, and least of all counterfeit Tabacco products. You stand trial before a jury of your peers and the public at large here inside Brooklynn East Court House this twentieth of May." The judge explained, "Where is your legal council, Mr Whitemore?"

"I- I have chosen to represent myself, I know no word more powerful than the lord and I know he will use me as a mouthpiece to speak the truth of this matter. They must be made to listen..."

Oh my god, I already wanna hit him over the head with a chair,

"Very well, Mr Whitemore how do you plead to the crimes of which you are accused?"

"Not guilty." He said,

Ohhh now I am gonna hit him,

Violet took my hand knowing this would be an ordeal for her so I squeezed it back hoping to comfort her.

"Very well, Miss Peters you have the floor."

"Thank you, Judge," She said getting up from her seat and pacing back and forth as she spoke, "I have no plan on proving you guilty Mr Whitemore, Rather I plan to bear your crimes to the jury and the public themselves so they may see the horror's you have committed. I believe truly in your mind you are innocent, but... we are not in your mind Mr Whitemore," She explained, "In simple facts, this man Kidnapped a fifteen-year-old girl and held her hostage while he committed horrific acts against her for two whole years of her life, only being stopped when police came to investigate his local store over reports of the selling and distribution of fake tobacco products,"

Shock went across the courtroom and I held Violet tight,

"The rest of my time I shall be letting you all see and understand the depravity of what happened in those two years," She nodded, "Any of those who wish to leave now, I would recommend it. I wish I could never know too."

"Proceed, prosecutor," The judge nodded,

"Mr Whitemore, can you tell me about your father? Mr James Whitemore?"

"My father was a priest for the Baptist church on Potter's Road," He nodded,

"I see, I see, and his father? Mr John Whitemore?"

"The same Madam,"

"And his father? Mr Elijah Whitemore"

"The same,"

"I see, and correct me if I am wrong but you are not a priest? In any capacity?"

"No, I am not, but I have followed God's word-"

"Yes or no Mr Whitemore,"

"No."

"And is that becuase you were rejected from every bible college to which you ever applied?"

"...yes,"

"Yes and why was it you were rejected so much?"

"... When I was a young schoolboy, I would take my bible to school and I would spend every free moment preaching the word of god to the heavens I was forced to educate with, by the end of my first terms. I knew the devil had them hard. So I would force them to hear the word of god."

"By breaking their legs so they couldn't run away Mr Whitemore," she glared, "And this of course when on your permanent record and yet you still proceeded to do so?"

"They must be made to listen..." I noticed that was the second time he had said that, and both times it made Violet's hand feel cold,

"This continued until beyond the education sector," She said, "No college would allow your entrance, But... I give you credit, You took initiative and began your own business." She said clicking the first slide a photo of the corner shop, "Tell me about it?"

"My small store is designed to cater to the everyday needs of the community. We stock essentials such as milk, bread, and paper products so that our customers can conveniently access these items without having to make the trip to the market." He nodded, "I love my store so much,"

I grimaced to think of the money we had spent in their over the years,

"And you ran this store for how many years?"

"Six Madam,"

"Six years, very impressive." She nodded, "What.. lead you to open such a store with no training, no family background, and only a rental lease?"

"I take all word from him,"

"Him Mr Whitemore?"

"God above." He nodded, "He sends me all, he has such plans for me, for all of us. They must be made to listen to the plans,"

There it was again,

"I see. Officer Ducan? you have been a patrol officer for six years correct?"

"Six years to the day. and it's been an honour." The officer nodded,

"Have you ever known of any issues from Mr Whitemore's store?"

"No, no reports, nothing, not even a brick through the window or a stolen candy bar,"

"Thank you, Now... Note Exhibit A on the front of the store sign reading 'One school child at a time' Would you like to tell us about that Mr Whitemore?"

"Well, it's only a small store..."

"Other stores your size don't hold this rule? Is there an issue with school children?"

"No no, of course not lambs of the lord unspoilt,"

"Then why the sign?"

"I like to serve one customer at a time it makes things simple,"

"Why the sign Mr Whitemore?"

"... I like to serve one customer at a time, so any messages the good lord has for them I can hear clearly, like now... so many in this room so much to say I don't know what's for whom."

"So you admit this sign is purposefully for isolating children?"

"...I... yes."

Gasps ran out,

"Thank you, I wish to turn your attention now back to the date in question, May 14th 1985. Do you have anything to say in your defence, Mr Whitemore?"

"They must be made to listen..."

"Noted." She nodded, "I'd like to call the victim, Miss Violet Watts to the stand please if she feels strong enough to tell her story?" She asked turning to Violet,

The room went quiet and I saw him stare at her,

I squeezed her hand as did Y/n but she got up adjusted her dress and walked with her head held high, Y/n came to her seat so we could hold hands and try not to panic.

I saw as she walked past his box he spoke a hushed not a soul heard but I saw and I read the words on his lips 'Be a good girl' I wanted to speak up but I didn't want to frighten Violet as she took her seat.

"Hello," She bravely smiled into the mic a little too low for her,

"Thank you for being here today Miss Watts, This can't be easy and even just being here is more than most would ever be able to do." She nodded, "Please State your name, honey,"

"Miss Violet Alekhine Watts," She said,

"A very lovely name," The Judge nodded, "Interesting Middle name?"

"My- My dad really likes chess."

Everyone suddenly looked at me, so I waved,

"... Apologise for the momentary derail of this but I must ask the name of the baby I am too curious,"

"Sterling Pirc Watts," Y/n smiled,

"Adorable," The Judge nodded, "Proceed,"

"Thank you, Judge, Let the records note the adorable baby."

"Noted!" The dictator Nodded,

"Now, Violet. Tell us a little bit about yourself."

"Well... My dad is US chess champion, my Mom was a reporter for chess review back when they first met. They got married, bought our little house, and had me. They're the best parents I could ask for really they are, Dad and I play chess by the fire, Mom and I bake together, she makes the best brownies, and whenever a chess tournament falls on a school holiday or weekend we all go as a family see the cities, and every day rain or shine one of them takes me and picks me up from school even though it's only a few minutes walk,"

Awww I got a little teary hearing her talk about us like that, I squeezed Y/n's hand tight as we both got a little emotional hearing her talking like that,

"Lovely, And you think even as a teenager you have a good relationship with your family?"

"I have the best relationship with them, they always tell me they love me, always look out for me, support me no matter what,"

"Supportive of what may I ask?"

"... I came out... as liking just girls when I was thirteen. I just always knew. And Mom and Dad didn't argue, didn't debate, didn't tell me I just needed to get older or that my mind would change without so much as a raised voice they accepted me, for who I am. No questions asked,"

I saw his face full of rage at her words, and things began to make more sense to me.

"Now Violet, On this faithful day May 14th 1985, How did your day go?"

"Well... I got out of bed, showered, had breakfast, and before we left I asked my dad if I could walk home on my own today, I was 15 and wanted to be a little more independent, plus I wanted to walk with friends maybe get some snacks... maybe see a cute girl," she explained "But we made a deal, he'd drive me to school as usual, but I could walk home. So long as I called from the phone box outside the school before I left and came straight home. And everything went fine normal school day. I was excited to walk home on my own for once, I made plans to walk home with some friends who live nearby, the last teacher was being a dick and held everyone back at the end of the day cause he was missing a pair of scissors, turns out they where on his desk, So I got my stuff from my locker and went outside the gates to the little phone box where I called mom, told her why I was late out but I was on my way. I met my friends and we started the walk home, We went to the little shop just on the corner, to sneakily get some snacks... even if dad told me not to,"

"Umm, and you never made it home that day did you, Violet?"

"No. I didn't."

"The store you stopped at. Was Whitemore Corner Store?"

"Yes."

"And you observed his one school child at a time sign seen in exhibit A?"

"We did, we went one at a time, I was last since I lived the closest so I was going to grab my stuff and head straight home. I went to the back got my snacks and went to the counter."

"Who was at the counter?"

"No one, I waited, I called out but nothing so I left the correct change on the counter and went to leave."

"But then what happened Violet?"

"The door was locked," She nodded, "And... I suddenly felt a hard crack on the back of my head,"

"Exhibit B, a bathroom key wooden block roughly 2 x 3, bloody. With DNA matching Miss Watts." She said showing the next side,

Ohh my god I am gonna kill him...

Y/n held my hand keeping me grounded frankly her hand and all these witnesses were all that was stopping me from climbing over and pummeling him into the ground.

"Mr Whitemore, Do you deny the school children obeyed your rules?"

"They obeyed them perfectly, and I gave each a message before they left,"

"And the message you gave Violet was a 2 X 3? Do you deny this?"

"I do not."

Gasps erupted,

"Was this a mistake? perhaps you assumed her stealing her gummy worms?"

"No. she paid. She couldn't be allowed to leave." He said,

"And why not Mr Whitemore?"

"They must be made to listen..."

"And who is they, Mr Whitemore? Miss Watts?"

"She's one of them."

"One of whom?"

"She's a Devil girl!" he yelled getting up from his chair,

Violet jumped back,

Immediately I got up ready to fight him if I needed to,

"Order! Order in the court!" The Judge Demanded, "Sit down Mr Whitemore. And You too Mr Watts."

I nodded and took my seat taking Y/n's hand tightly as he too took his seat again,

"You do not deny you hit Miss Watts over the head with a 2 x 3 and took her down to your basement on the 14th of May 1985?"

"... I do not deny this. And I would do it again." He gritted, 

[billys-slutcherson]

THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG - MDNI

Hello, my name is Becca!! (づ￣ 3￣)づ

I am 26 and recently converted to my unhinged era.

This means, minors PLEASE do to interact in any form with this blog, you will be swiftly blocked. There is no ifs or buts about it, and going against it just makes you a shitty person please don't interact with me. Please and THANK YOU.

───────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────────────

I enjoy design, art, and most importantly right now, WRITING!

ironic this is the way I have decided to use the josh fixation

───────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────────────

As of now I love to write:

❤ soft fluff & smut!

❤ one-shots

❤ requests!

❤ multi-chapters, maybe? (●'◡'●)

I will NOT write:

⊠ rape, paedophilia, incest or anything of these nature!

⊠ real people, including celebrities, online personalities etc.

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As of now I am not sure if I will take requests, because I am still really new to writing fanfics. But! I don't mind trying out prompts, and providing the GOODIES!

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MASTERLIST below the cut! ↘

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ •┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈• ✿•*¨`•.¸✯

*＊✿❀ FANFIC MASTERLIST ❀✿＊*

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✿ Billy (Burn) x F!Reader 'I Always Knew You Were Needy' (NSFW)

Billy finally succumbs to your convincing, letting you tease him for a change. Reluctant at first, but it doesn't take long for him to start begging... (2,140 Words)

✿ Mike Schmidt x F!Reader 'Nightshift Degeneracy P.T 1' (NSFW)

Slow security nights leave the mind to wander to more enticing places than where he is stuck. All alone, for once, Mike allows himself that indulgence. (978 Words)

✿ Mike Schmidt x F!Reader 'Nightshift Degeneracy P.T 2' (NSFW)

After his near miss of being caught up to no good on the nightshift, Mike thinks he might be in the clear. However, you relish in letting him know you caught him. Desperate to fulfil his urges completely. (3,041 Words)

✿ Mike Schmidt x Gen!Reader 'Pretty as a Vine'

Working as Abby's babysitter had grown on you, so much so that you let her mess up your face with an old lipstick she found. It became a game of chase, till you were both caught by Mike. Feeling like a scolded idiot, you turn your attention to how he might look wearing it. Much to his dismay. (805 Words)

✿ Mike Schmidt x Gen!Reader 'It's You I Hold On To'

Abby stubborn as she is just wants to go camping, which is a total no-go for Mike. But in the garden, under the stars with you there? He can't shake the idea. So movie night, and junk food huddled around a little DVD player, is worth it just to make both you and Abby smile. (2,826 Words)

✿ Mike Schmidt x Gen!Reader 'And I Saw Sparks' (NSFW)

Following the failed garden camping and being drenched by the storm, Mike just wanted you to stay. More than that, he wanted you, to kiss you. Begging for more, confessing all of his pent-up need for you and only you. NSFW follow-up to 'It's You I Hold Onto' (2,392 Words)

✿ Derek Danforth x F!Reader 'I'd Rather Stay Here' (NSFW)

Insatiable for you, Derek convinces you to ditch the party. Eager to have his way dominating you, away from prying eyes. Desperately, you wouldn't dream of passing up the chance… (3,589 Words)

✿ Derek Danforth x F!Reader 'Bathed in Wine' (NSFW)

You hated it, the façade. It bored you, but for Derek, you'd do anything just to be there to tease him. In the end, you get what you want, or better yet what you need. Even at the cost of making a slight fool of yourself. It was worth it to see him in ruins. (2,754 Words)

✿ Peeta Mellark x Gen!Reader 'Strawberries'

After it all, you are still you and he is still Peeta. He will always go above and beyond to see your smiles, always. (981 Words)

✿ Josh Futturman Cowboy AU x F!Reader 'The Moonlighting Cowboy' (NSFW)

Your day was about as average as they get out in the middle of the Wild West. Until the sweet silent peace is broken by a manic strange running for your stables, fleeing a gang of outlaws hunting him. Being the person you are you stupidly offered to help. Inevitably falling for his accidental charms... (8,695 Words)

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Also, here is my AO3 - It is the same fics, but I know sometimes I prefer bookmarking there!

[starredeclipse]

Early morning repair: the story continues

(Previous chapter is here )

Since his conversation with Spring the man hadn’t been able to really sleep, buying this pizzeria was supposed to be a low budget get money fast sort of situation but now……

His eyes opened to find he had another pounding headache, his eyes drifted towards his clock to only see it was eight thirty am “three hours of sleep….” He paused, he felt exhausted…..yet at the same time he was wide awake, he was crazy wasn’t he? He wasn’t trying to make it big like Fazbear had, no he was just trying to get everything done, open up and get cash quick. Now he had to pay a animatronic to be his night guard that he original spent money on at an auction…..and said auctioned animatronic was now taking care of a child who got ditched by her parents and hurt by one of his bots….

The logic here didn’t seem to really exist, it was just crazy on top of crazy.

He got up out of the bed not even bothering to try to fall back to sleep again, there was no point. He dragged himself to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror “I look horrible” he sighed “not that its anything new” he slightly grumbled as he grabbed his razor and shaving cream so he could start shaving his face so he would at least not look like a unkept creep that could scare kids with just a single glance.

“There” after he was done he washed his face but it didn’t help his appearance much in his opinion “Well I went from horrible to bad looking…..that might actually be a personal improvement for once” his hair always looked unkept even after he brushed it, he was hoping dyeing it last night when he got home would make it look better but alas now that he saw the full color in this sort of lighting it honestly just looked like he slapped dark grease on his head…..if black grease was a color that is. It was supposed to be a dark brown, a sleek and professional color “I guess this is why people get there hair professionally colored….” He briefly brushed his teeth and took care of some other business before he went to the closet, he had ironed a shirt…..would it still be ironed looking after three days? He pulled it out “Wrinkled like I didn’t even touch it” he looked at his other shirts but they were even worse, looks like he didn’t have many options. He put on the shirt and some pants before he chose some pretty average looking shoes, he would have tried to look more professional if it wasn’t for the fact he was going to be doing some repairs on the pizzeria, to be honest he just wanted to look decent but he wasn’t even sure he could pull off decent.

Grabbing a few things and shoving them in his work bag he had went to the living room to get he stopped at the kitchen to get a brief breakfast and some coffee, the coffee would only give him a few hours before he crashed again but it was whatever. He slurped it as he shoved things in this car and drove away, he lived on the edge of town, to be honest it was the only place available to rent here but it was also a pretty good rental in a cozy feeling town so thee wasn’t much to complain about.

He drove until he got to the pizzeria, he planned on replacing the sign, he knew that the Freddy Fazbear name was free gain now but only to a certain extent, he couldn’t call his pizzeria ‘Freddy Fazbears Pizzaria’ he could instead call it something similar like ‘Freddy’s Star Pizzaria’ without getting in trouble, to be honest though he didn’t really think he was going to call it that. For one he didn’t have a Freddy model and he didn’t plan to go to another auction to get one since they were more pricey than the others put together that he already had depending on what generation of Freddy model was going up for auction that given day.

Freddy Models were expensive since they used to be the face of that company so they had more value, not that the animatronics he had was that cheap but he had got them all for pretty cheap in comparison to the other auction items, he had just been lucky those days, he only went to the off days that the auction house had, those days is where all the junk usually gets sold for cheaper, not that what he got was cheap junk…..they just had problems…..problems he tried to fix but failed…..all except for Spring. He didn’t know why he got him for cheap, probably because he was just a extra model with no real theme behind him or maybe it was because he was a headache they wanted to be rid of and they wanted to be rid of it quick……there was also the fact Spring had some resemblance to a few rumors the company gained but he didn’t see the resemble between the rumors and Springs design so he got him.

As he parked his car he took a few minutes to settle himself and mentally prepare for the hard labor he had ahead of him for today, as he readied himself he wondered if those camera’s Spring walked past…..would anybody be suspicious that the footage of that day was suddenly gone? He didn’t exactly obtain it in the most legal of ways…..nor was him finding Spring technically legal either if he was still owned by Fazbear, luckily he owned that rabbit now so he sort of just did a little hack that a former employee of Fazbear taught him when he bought the animatronics from the auction house, it made his gps tune into Spring Cookie’s chip signal, all of Fazbears animatronics had a small chip that would beep out a location signal, it was the only way to actually keep track of the bots but it was quite a pain to actually tune into these individual signals, especially since some of these chips wore down so either the signal would be very faint or it wouldn’t give out a signal at all. Luckily Springs chip was still beeping out a strong signal, the man wasn’t even sure the animatronic was aware he had such a chip but nobody else should be able to get this signal anyways but him or a former Fazbear employee……and he was under the impression that one guy was the only one who actually knew of the signal and the chips in general.

It was one of Fazbears best kept secrets apparently.

The man got out of the car and went to the door with keys in hand to unlock the door but when he came up to the door it was already open just enough to be noticeable, he froze, did somebody break in? He was fully prepared to see the place be ransacked and stuff gone, he took in a deep breath before he went inside, maybe he should have called the police first? A break in could end badly for him if the intruder was still inside but he didn’t think of that, he just wanted to see what damage had been done.

He went to the main party room expecting to see everything upside down and broken but instead he saw a familiar face, tools on a table and Foxys front hatch open with all the wires exposed “YOU” the man pointed a finger at the other adult in the room “JUST SCARE THE BLAZES OUT OF ME!” He got a pair of eyes glance towards him “Good Morning Mr.Ashton” the other man greeted lazily before he went back to fixing up the mess the other made of all these wires and connections “It’s Atom” how hard was it to get his last name right? He didn’t like his first name so people just called him by his last. “yes yes, of course Mr.Afton” Atom approached him as he worked on Foxy “Atom” he pronounced it so it was obvious how it was supposed to sound “Mhm got it Mr.Aardvark” you probably never saw the biggest smirk on one guy and a peeved off look on the other “Okay your just doing that on purpose now” the man looked at him “I always have, glad you decided to catch on” he was making Atom mad on purpose, just to be a little annoying first thing in the morning. Mr.Atom grumbled crossing his arms as if he was already fed up with today “What are you doing here anyways? Weren’t you coming on Thursday or something???” He questioned the man, ones who’s name he never could remember even though he was a former parts and service employee at the Pizzaplex before disaster happened and that place became lost, it was left to forever be in ruins.

“I said I could come on Thursday but would prefer to come sooner and you said in I quote ‘Yeah yeah just get it done, I’ll leave a spare key for you’ so I decided to come today and boy I wish I would have come sooner, you put these animatronics through the wringer!” He motioned towards a twisted and jumbled up pile of wires tied wrongly around each other and the main exoskeleton “What were you even trying to accomplish here?” The owner stared at the mess he made “I was just trying to get it in running order, I thought I did it right, it looked right….” The engineer looked at him slowly “If this looks right then I’m a monkeys uncle” the men looked at eachother for a moment before one continued his pain staking work and the other looked at Bonnie and Chica currently turned off and ready for fixing “When do you think you can get them working properly…..” what was this guy name again? “James?” Was that even right? It started with a J right? “Josh and I’m not sure, could take me all day, could take me a week or a month, it depends on how bad you made things on top of whatever was already wrong with them” he didn’t think he would need new parts….though he did have a few random animatronic parts in box’s in his truck that he had left in there a while ago and just forgot about them after he lost his job, he didn’t know if they would work for these animatronics but when your in this line of work, certain parts are hard to find since there custom and you sort of have to ‘make’ your own parts and make sure they work and last like its supposed to. “Well I’m not putting you on a deadline, I still got some repairs to make myself” he motioned to the in general environment they found themselves in “have you even gotten this place inspected by a professional?” Josh asked as he did more untangling “I did, she was a friend of mine that still owed me a favor, despite how this place looks it was pretty solidly built, it just has a few things need fixing here and there, luckily for me its nothing electrical or plumbing related but I got to fix that hole in the floor now and test the rest of the flooring for rot, they put this tile floor right on top of wood floors. Not the best thing to do, I’m even considering tearing out the tile and just having some nice wood floors to be honest but that is a alteration for another day, for now I got to fix the hole in the floor if I can….I hope I can or else I’ll just have a hole in the floor when this place opens” Josh looked over to where the hole in the floor was “I’m surprised that part of the floor didn’t fall in sooner, you know……I remember coming here before fazbear closed this location down and sold it and I could have sworn there used to be a slide there.” Mr.Atom looked at him with a look of confusion “What?” A slide? Just right there in the floor?

”yeah, you see this place was one of those ‘kids can go almost anywhere’ type of locations and since it had a basement Fazbear turned the second floor into a child’s playland with a matching ballpit, there’s only a few rooms kids weren’t allowed to go in and those needed to be locked at all times. There was a slide built into the floor so kids could just slide into the ballpit if they desired, it was the funniest way to get down to the playland section. It’s possible they removed the slide since it costed a lot of money and tried to salvage some money from it, i wouldn’t put it past fazbear to make a rush job in order to make it look like there was never a slide there but obviously that patch job didn’t work. You won’t be able to patch up that hole if thats the case, you might just want to find a professional to install a new slide and make sure its up to code” Josh told him matter of fact like “A playland? A new slide?? What am I made of money???” Josh laughed a bit at the mans complaint “You’re the one who decided to try to open this place back up” he reminded before he got up “Come on, since you seem confused about the playland then they must have gutted out that section” Josh motioned for the owner to follow as he expertly found the stairs to the downstairs and led the other down “See those small rooms? One was a maze of crawl tubes, rope bridges, climbing walls and trampolines. That’s why there is a hole in the wall with that odd tube part right there, they couldn’t remove that part but it connects to these two small rooms together to make one almost never ending fun land for those that likes to explore, for the more sensitive kids there was a larger room right here made with different foam and soft things, it had a jungle jim and hammocks, most energetic kids preferred the other room so that room was always more quiet but still plenty of fun. If we walk here, we will find the ballpit in this large room” Josh pointed up to where it looked like old slide supports used to be “See the slide would be secured here and it would go up through that hole and connect into the ballpit. Honestly it was a pretty fun place, I thought it was just okay in my opinion but I could probably find the old plans for this place so you know what it used to look like before they gutted a few things, who knows maybe you can make this place more fun, You could put a few arcade machines here and there annnnnnddddd maybe even a prize corner for the kids if the machines give out tickets.” Apparently this man thought he was just made of money but…..the way he described what used to be here gave a lot of ideas but it would all cost a lot of cash…..and he wasn’t sure he could afford it. He really could only afford to repair things himself, try to make this place be clean and the animatronics up and running before just opening to get some cash flowing into this place but with all that needed to be added in order for this place to even function…..”I can’t afford any of that, I need this place to be bringing in money in order for it to even get any of those things” he admitted to Josh, there was a pause before he shrugged “I guess you could just close the doors to the stairs so kids can’t access that but I don’t know what your going to do about the hole in the floor if you don’t plan to put a slide in, this place is I guess pretty ready if you just want to host quick birthday party’s here. You could use this location more of just a ‘rent a party room’ location for birthdays instead I guess but you won’t really get any return customers that way but I suppose its something to start out with if you need the money soon, this place isn’t exactly a quick cash grab, you need to give people a reason to come here and even drop there kids off with cash in there pockets at any given time.” He knew he was right but this place was supposed to be a quick cash grab but now….he needed a slide and all this….this stuff! “Ugh, what else am I supposed to do here hmm?”

He needed money quick, Josh shrugged “You could start selling pizza” that suggestion alone felt like a huge no “What? What’s that look for? You got a kitchen up to code in here don’t you? This town doesn’t exactly have many places selling pizza, you could just start making them and delivering them around town if you need money that much. The only other place selling pizza currently sells it for thirty dollars a pop, if you make yours maybe twenty dollars instead you’ll get a lot of orders rolling in as people will always go for the cheaper option. Sure you can reduce the price later but its a good way to bring in funds right now” his words made sense and it wasn’t a bad idea…..just time consuming but the kitchen equipment was all hear, the kitchen was the only thing Fazbear couldn’t really gut out one guessed, maybe because they couldn’t sell the current kitchen equipment they did try to auction off. Luckily Mr.Atoms kitchen came with a pretty good pizza oven so making pizza would just have to be the go to thing to do. “Fine fine, I guess I’m making pizza now…..I need some money to pay Spring anyways…” Josh raised a eyebrow “Your going to pay Spring money? Dude he’s a animatronic, you don’t need to pay him thats just crazy talk” if only that was actually the case “You don’t know the half of it and I don’t feel like explaining it either, its a whole situation” the two men went into silence before Josh started walking back to his job “Alright Mr.Weirdo, you have fun with that, I’m just going to get back to my job” Mr.Atom grumbled as the other man walked off, he went to doing a few repairs while the morning was still young, he felt exhausted already but he had no real time for sleep now. When he was on break he grabbed a few pizza recipes off of his computer and put together a very basic menu with prices with no real logo except it just saying ‘pizzeria’ at this foam number that was willing to deliver. He printed out a few pages in the office before he looked over and noticed red on the wall where the doors buttons were…..that wasn’t there before….”Does that?” It must have belonged to that kid, there was a wave of panic, how bad had that kid gotten hurt to leave such a mess? He had to get rid of this mess asap so he put the papers down, got the proper cleaning equipment and started cleaning the buttons and the wall with gloves on.

Only after it was all gone did Mr.Atom toss the gloves and put the cleaning supplies away, he grabbed his papers before he rushed off telling Josh he would be right back. When he got to the car he drove to the store where he was greeted by a women that looked like she didn’t care once he asked her if she could leave this paper on their cork board for the customers, he just needed his makeshift menu’s to be in popular places to hopefully get people calling “yeah sure, whatever” she said flipping through one of those gossip magazines with freshly done nails.

[mightierthanthecanon]

I think that a lot of people who love Dragon Age have an idea in their head of what would have been the perfect DA4. And for me, a perfect Veilguard would have been based on a system of trust, not friendship. After all, it's not just a meme that someone will always betray you in Dragon Age. It's the truth.

In DAO (one betrayal), Zevran was initially paid to kill you. In DA2 (two betrayals), Anders tricks you into helping him blow up the chantry, and Isabela can steal from the qunari and straight up ditch you to continue a life of piracy. In DAI (three betrayals), Solas, Blackwall, and The Iron Bull are each lying to you in different ways and to different degrees. For this one, Bioware had the chance to do the funniest thing ever and just make Veilguard into Who Is Going To Betray You: The Game. It's already all set up for it.

Harding already has both unpredictable and all-consuming Titan magic and reason to want Solas's head on a platter.

Neve, if Minrathous falls, could betray Rook to the venatori in order to save her beloved city and the Shadow Dragons

Bellara could have been an extremely devout elf who believed in her gods and wanted to follow them through the blight

Lucanis, if Treviso falls, could lose control of Spite, and see him threatening/attacking Rook and the team as vengeance

Taash could betray Rook to the antaam to get her mother back if her mom was tortured instead of murdered in front of her

Emmrich already has a fear of death. If he also had a deep and obsessive need for power/lichdom, the gods could easily turn him

Davrin already has the blight in his veins. Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain could have used that to manipulate him against Rook and the team

And then instead of act 3 being based on whether or not you solved enough of your team's personal problems, it could have based on "who do you actually trust?" And obviously Solas is manipulating you, so trusting only him would be wrong. But then again it is a dragon age game, so trusting all of your teammates would also be wrong. Maybe it would be one of those things where there's no right answer. But whoever you trusted the most (or the second most? after your love interest?) could help Solas betray you. You'd still end up in the fade prison. The only difference would be that now you'd be there, not just because of some arbitrary death that you had no hand in and shouldn't feel guilty about, but because you actively trusted the wrong person, just like Solas with Mythal.

That's a game that I'd play seven different times.

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - Chapter 9

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 14:30. 6th month, 24th day 104AC Location: Ukoojisi Shrine, West Necluda Sky Archipelago Weather: Sunny

Back up above, in the islands. Taking a break for a moment. Decided to explore the skies above Necluda for the day. Something about the loneliness of the open air. It’s peaceful.  

Completed a few shrines here and there. About fifty total by now. There’s a large island east by northeast of here. Kinda looks like a huge vase, or a horn-like instrument. Met a horn player back in Hyrule Ridge that I helped out of a tricky spot (literally) but his didn’t look like this. 

Would judge it to be a few hundred feet away, so will need a flying machine. Been experimenting with Zonai tech and getting more comfortable with the arm. Fans - reliable. Rockets - powerful. Wings - slow but useful in a pinch. Balloons - handy. Steering sticks vital (don’t forget one this time). Trying to make something with as few parts as possible. My best machine so far uses only a steering stick, a metal bracket and three fans. Wonder if I can get that down to two…  

Wondering what the limits of this arm are as well. I dropped a fan over the edge of the island by mistake and in a last ditch effort tried to Recall it. It was half-way to the surface but I focused, and felt my reach extend beyond my fingertips, like I could touch the horizon. With a wave of my fingers – ding! The fan fell upwards and back into my hands.

Zelda gave me this power, didn’t she? Can barely describe it. Otherworldly doesn’t do it the tiniest justice. Heading over to the horn-island after this, and then down to Duelling Peaks for the night. Forward, always forward. 

A photograph taken from the top of Zonaite Forge Island, a huge, vaguely tuba-shaped landmass with an atrium at its centre. The photograph is of the atrium, with a lattice of red lasers guarding it. At the base of the atrium appears to be a shrine, barely visible.

Caption: Got my glide armour ready. Here goes nothing. 

---

Log date: 19:35. 6th month, 24th day 104AC Location: Duelling Peaks Stable Weather: Mild, scattered clouds 

Made it to the stable. Hands shaking. Can barely write. But have to or it'll get under my skin and blister. 

Caught sight of Penn. Was glad to see him, at first. ‘They have the Princess!’ he said. ‘They have Zelda!’ I was making toast by a fire and dropped it, dropped everything. The bread burned as Penn told me the Yiga had taken Zelda to a cave in the Duelling Peaks. Of course. It would be that simple. She fell into the past, but used her brilliant powers to come straight back, into the greedy hands of those arrogant, sniveling little—

I ran to the top of Duelling Peaks so fast my legs were screaming. Had to go as fast as I could, had to find her – and there she was. Oh Hylia. There she was. Knees shaking. Crying, babbling, blubbering that I’d free her, I’d get her out, and it’d all be okay. 

Such an idiot. Such a stupid, hard-headed, idiot knight. Less sense than a pile of rocks. I ran headlong into that Yiga ambush. And I knew the second I freed ‘Zelda’ that something was wrong, but it was too late. In a flash, she was gone, and three Yiga in her place. Weapons ready. Bows drawn. 

I don’t remember much after that. There was a fire in my chest, hot as red iron, tearing itself out of me. The fury that heroes, and monsters, are made of. Someone was screaming. Was it me?

My hands are still shaking. There was blood on my knuckles, I scrubbed them red raw in the river. I walked away from that fight without a scratch, but the Yiga? They probably limped away, if I knew what I was doing. With a sword I usually do. 

Penn is waiting. I don’t know what to tell him. I’ll say I found nothing. Or that the Yiga escaped unharmed. Maybe if I speak it, I’ll believe it. 

A photograph of a low-burning campfire, the blackened remnants of burnt toast among the logs. 

Caption: …

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Log date: 14:10. 6th month, 26th day 104AC  Location: Riverside Stable Weather: Sunny 

Ran into Penn again. Gut dropped seeing him. Back at Duelling Peaks Stable he asked if the Princess was okay and I lost it. Don’t remember what I said, only that I yelled it.

‘Where’s Zelda now?’ I asked this time, still angry. Feel bad about that. Feel terrible. What happened wasn’t his fault. He flipped nervously through his notebook and told me to talk to the stable chef. Something about some missing friends of his and a recipe that Zelda gave them. 

It didn’t seem like much but I figured I’d better make it up to Penn and chase the lead. The chef said he feared his friends had gotten lost in the nearby woods. It seemed unlikely (this part of Hyrule is always easy travelling) but if all four hadn’t turned up, something must have happened. Poked around for an hour or so in the woods and found a camp of comatose travellers and the ruins of some dreadful cooking. Can still remember the smell.

Found some notes they’d left saying they were trying a recipe Zelda had given them - a rice and meat bowl. I know just the one. She likes it best with slow roasted beef, rice made with just a touch of salt, and green onion garnish. An easy recipe, if you know what you’re doing. 

Well. I think these travellers made theirs with monster meat. Actual monster meat. I can’t… who would even… why would you even… Anyway. Even if they hadn’t all been sick I would have re-cooked their meal just on principle. And these guys are chefs? 

I cleaned out the cauldron (twice), crushed some rock salt and fried up some rice, and sautéed some doe meat with a touch of oil, and even without all the sauces and spices I keep at home, the aroma was enough to wake the weary travellers.  

They’re all back at the stables now, enjoying seconds. Penn mumbled something about another dead-end story, and before I could say anything he’d flown off without even a soar long!

Next time I see him I’d better apologise. But it’s a big kingdom, so that might be a while. Will give me time to practice what I’ll say, at least. 

A photograph of a newly drawn-up poster in the Riverside Stables, illustrating the ingredients and proper method to make a meat and rice bowl. In the corner of the poster, highlighted by a bright blue callout, are the words ‘Endorsed by Princess Zelda!’

Caption: I gave her that recipe. 

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Log date: 20:00. 6th month, 28th day 104AC Location: Wetlands Stable Weather: Mild. Rain easing.  

…Ran into Penn, again. 

Gave him a fright. He squawked so loud when he saw me that a flock of nearby sparrows took wing. This time I was on the offense (so to speak): ‘What’ve your little birds got for us, Penn? Excited for another adventure!’ He blinked at me with his bright, beady eyes (his goggles left around his neck, I suppose because the rain would prevent him from flying), and buried his face in his notebook. Turns out he did have a story, but he insisted it was just as mundane as the last. 

The stable’s ferryman, Izra, had been complaining of unreturned tools, borrowed by Zelda some months back. Penn said Izra hadn’t been willing to give a statement but maybe a Hylian would have better luck interviewing him. I offered Penn come with me this time and after some preening he agreed, making sure to put his goggles back on before we left.

Izra recognised me on sight and refused to speak. He couldn’t talk ill of his Princess to her Knight, he said. I promised not to tell. He made me double promise and sealed it with a handshake. He said he’d lent Zelda some farm tools and had been trying to catch her to ask for them back. ‘I’d ask for her at Lookout and hear she was in Hateno, so I’d send word to Hateno and be told she was in Faron, and then I sent word to Faron and–’. We stopped him there, his point made. 

Izra said he’d seen Zelda take the tools to Floret Sandbar, so after a bit of Ultrahand magic (definitely getting better at it now), Penn, Izra and I clambered onto a ferry and sailed south. There we found a blooming garden. All three of us could hardly speak at the sight of it. Flowers of every kind from every corner of Hyrule, including a perfectly cultivated set of Silent Princesses. A floral oasis, like those you’d find in Gerudo Desert. 

It struck me then, the memory clear as a ringing bell. Zelda, pouring over a notebook with pressed flowers gathered from our travels. ‘If only I had somewhere with all of Hyrule’s flowers in one spot,’ she’d said. We were at the house, lounging together on the settee by the fireplace, her back to my chest and my arms around her. I must not have said anything, all I remember was tracing the pattern of one of her braids with a finger and admiring the skill of it. But she still went and made her garden, and this was it. 

There we met Magda, who said Zelda left her in charge of the garden. It’d been partly destroyed by ruins that fell after the Upheaval, so she’d made it her mission to get the garden in perfect shape. Before Penn or I could intervene, she drafted Izra to help her in exchange for returning the farm tools and then shooed us away. ‘Too many feet running about the place will trample all my hard work!’ We left Izra with the ferry so he’d at least have some method of escape, and walked back to the stables. 

The whole way Penn didn’t say much, which I thought normal for a writer with a story bouncing around their head. But he didn’t write anything in his notebook either, only looked down at the waters of the river passing by. At the stables, he was hurrying to fly off again without a word, but I caught him.

On the walk back it occurred to me that he and I aren’t much different. Both looking for Zelda, both travellers, both alone and both dedicated to our craft - him with his words and me with my sword (and magic arm). To my surprise I realised I missed talking to someone. You can only think your thoughts so long before they well up and demand to be let out. I wondered if Penn felt the same, that maybe his notepad was no substitute for a friend. That maybe he’d like to swap stories without worrying about getting them perfect for the newspaper. 

I wasn’t sure where to start my apology. But I did say sorry, and asked him if he wanted lunch. I said I could cook, and if he wanted we could sit by the wetlands once the rain stopped and talk about where we planned to travel next. 

To my relief and happiness, he said yes. 

A photograph of Link in his Zonai glider’s armour. It is sleek and aerodynamic, with a woolen undershirt for warmth. Link is proudly posing for the camera with his arms held wide to show off the ‘wings’. In the background are the sparkling Lanayru Wetlands. Link is wearing Penn’s goggles. 

Caption: He offered to let me borrow them, but I refused. I’ll get my own next time I return to the sky.