#I also had another one with MC being in a salt circle that I want to write too 🫣

[star-centric]

Hehe a 🐑 for the ask game based on an actual tag I saw on ao3 once: "I wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess"

I wanna hear your most self-indulgent thoughts 👀

Fake fic ask game!

Sorry I’m so late in answering this but MAAN do I have a lot of self-indulgent thoughts that I’ll probably never get to writing to 😭 but the one that’s been eating at me for a while:

“MC, whatever you do- do not open the door.”

Simeon warned through the phone, pinpricks shooting up your spine. Regret filled you as the banging on the door grew more desperate- why did this had to be the one time you chose to ignore Solomon’s warning?

The knocks soon turned into banging, various pleas and cries to just please let them in growing louder. You didn’t want to believe that they would hurt you, but right now you don’t know what they’re capable of.

The demons behind your door are not the same ones from earlier, they’re feral-

A deep growl filled the air with an echoing crack, sharp claws finally breaching through, slit eyes staring straight into you.

You didn’t have time to come up with a plan.

You needed to escape- now.

[bluelockednyx]

Hey!! I loved your Rinsagi metas and posts. FINALLY someone in the fandom who doesn't infantilize Isagi and sees canon him. Yes Isagi is nice but not like.. nanase level friendly and nice. He's polite but a lil withdrawn and appreciates people's talents but absolutely will not let anyone walk over him. Also,exactly what u said, sadist Dom. Yes please.

And Rin, so many people reduce him to this one-dimensional character who's issues people treat like a joke. When that's not the case? Bachira at least knows his prblms, Rin has no idea at all. Like how horrible does your repression and mental state have to be that the guy that is literally suicidal tells you that you're in a worse place than him. Rin gives off high key depressed vibes.

It's a lot like Post WC kunigami which draws...interesting parallels esp when you look at pre WC kunigami and at how Rin seems a lot happier before the fight. I saw someone make that comparison.

What do you think? How do you think Rin would've been like if Sae had actually bothered explaining instead of what we got?

Also, any opinions on the Itoshi parents? We've only seen half their faces and nothing from them abt their kids's relationship. I mean, it kinda bothers me how we've seen the views of Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, even Hiori's parents when he's not a main character, Yet we got no input from the Itoshis. Do they just not notice? Are they a bit neglectful esp since they let a 13 yr old Sae go to another country alone? Do they let their kids do whatever they want including fighting for a year? Who knows? I'll love to know your thoughts tho.

Again, thank you for the lovely metas which made me feel a little less alone in the fandom. Have a great day :)

Isagi stans, please rise up and help characterise him properly lmao

Stupid long response under the cut, as always.

Rant about my issues with the general fandom characterisation about Isagi. Sorry anon if this isn't what you wanted, I have a lot of Thoughts and Salt where Isagi is concerned, and I am Fandom Old who is growing incredibly sad with how divisive current fandom is over a whole host of things. Skip to Itoshi if you don't wanna read about Isagi + fandom musings. Skip to parents if you wanna read about my thoughts on the family dynamics.

Isagi is, for better or worse, the stock shonen MC. He's enough of a regular guy for the target readers, which are teenage boys, to identify with. As he's the MC, the story overall serves to validate and support him, so long as he fits the themes the author is working on, which for Blue Lock, is the concept of being the best at what you're doing, while also bringing out the best in others, and then working together successfully to achieve goals (i.e. the World Cup).

But, Kaneshiro-sensei's also a strategic writer. Isagi, because he's such a bland self-insert for the most part, combined with how he has a very weird form of Power of Heart, has wound up being an especially attractive character for those who like harem, or reverse-harem series. Which then, for better or worse, brings all the fujoshi fangirls around (the curse of so many attractive characters). But most especially the fujoshi fangirls who are a fan of all x MC ships. I am emphasizing all x MC here, because east Asian/gen Asian fandom, have grown incredibly restrictive and rigid about top x bottom dynamics, which is a whole host of other things and issues to talk about.

Look up any popular shonen jump title, you'll find that these shippers generally have the same tastes, and move around the same fandom circles. You'll usually find them shipping all x MC ships, from Izuku to Tanjirou to Yuuji to Naruto etc. Overall, how they characterise them never deviates all that much. It's the nice, 'innocent', naive, guy who is a bit of a pushover, and who has all the other hot characters wanting to get in their pants. That's where Isagi falls into as well, for these shippers. The more thorny and less 'nice guy' parts of his characterisation gets sanded down, though YMMV whether this is a skill issue by fandom or simply a cultural readership interpretation difference altogether.

On the Itoshi bros:

Yep, Rin has a lot of repression issues. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Rin has no idea at all about his issues (how else would he pick out Bachira's loneliness so quickly lol, also there's some hints from official guidebook), but he definitely lacks self-awareness. I also agree that he and Nagi seem to be on different areas at the spectrum of depression (Nagi being apathetic, Rin being hostile).

If there's anything to parallel Rin and Kunigami, I'd say that it's the 'loss of a dream' and 'loss of companions'. In the manga proper, Rin does seem happier before the fight with Sae, like how Kunigami looked happier pre-WC. However, the light novel shows that Rin was already repressing both himself and his style of football to imitate Sae long before then due to external pressures by his teammates and coach, and even more severely than Isagi, who also didn't have much of a relationship with his own teammates from Ichinan.

If Sae had tried to explain more than that one line about 'the world being vast', they wouldn't have such a strained relationship right now, honestly. While I don't think that Rin would have fully understood what Sae was trying to say because he lacked the experience and perspective, I do think he would have been more supportive, which would have been better overall, for the both of them. They were both idiots that night, lmao, though I do view Sae as having been punished by the narrative when he pushed his dream onto Rin.

About the Itoshi parents:

We know that Rin and Sae presumably used to share a room and a double bed as kids (albeit a fairly spacious one, from the looks of it), which makes me think that they're more likely to be middle class than upper class. Young Rin also accompanied Sae to his soccer practice games, rather than going off for other classes like say, art, which implies that his parents might not have been able to afford it. Sae also walked home with Rin, which further implies that they're parents are busy, though its more of a norm in JP. Possibly a double income household, to fund Sae, and later, Rin's coaching fees and time with the youth football squad. Also a household that seems to have no qualms about Sae, and later, Rin's rudeness and hostility, although they may tone it down around their parents. Sae must have picked his attitude up from somewhere.

I'm reluctant to call the Itoshi parents sending Sae to Madrid at 13 as intentionally neglectful, because there are cultural nuances there. I think the best parallel I can draw is parents from less-developed nations sending their children overseas from an early age to secure eventual permanent residency and establish a life in a more developed nation. Sometimes, home just isn’t good enough. And this is one of Blue Lock’s main story themes: that Japan’s football, as it is, isn’t good enough. They have neither the organizational structure, infrastructure, nor support to get the World Cup that Sae, Anri and possibly Ego, covets.

Sae's dream, and talent, is in football. He's been scouted by perhaps the most successful team in the Blue Lock world, with a world-class program for youths, and has been given the best chance possible, for any kid in his shoes, to fulfill his dream to be the best striker in the world. He's being sponsored, and he also left with a manager who would presumably, help take care of him whilst he was there. Sae isn't going there like say, Ashito from Aoi Ashi, who needed to go through a trial to even be considered for acceptance into the youth squad. He's going there as the equivalent of a golden scholarship student scouted for a potential future work placement, with the likely backing of the JFA.

What alternatives could his parents offer him if he stayed in Japan? His own speech to Sendou pre-blue lock vs U20 match encapsulates what could have been for him (Sendou is very much a foil to Sae, especially now that we know they're both redheads lmao). Being the best in Japan, a middle-of-the-road striker in the world, retiring with an average, albeit decent life. Sae's too egoistic, too talented, too greedy to be content with a life like that. I wouldn't be surprised if Sae had also begged his parents hard to let him go, since it's pretty much all he wanted as a kid.

That's without even taking into account the other problems his parents would face if they immigrated with Sae. How to take care of Rin and his education there, for starters. Rent and housing, finding jobs in Madrid where they likely can't speak the language, and face discrimination.

I think we don't get their parents faces because Rin and Sae's story, and their relationship with their parents, are simply emotionally distant. I don't think they have much parental control over Rin or Sae either.  Sae's been more or less looking after himself/being taken care of by Real Madrid + his manager in Spain since 13, and Rin has been strongly implied to be in much the same shoes since Sae left, to a lesser extent. I doubt they know the more minute details about Rin and Sae’s school life and team experience, both within and out of Japan. I even doubt that they know that Rin and Sae had a fight, honestly, though I can also see them being the kind of parents who will let their kids sort things out between themselves.

Overall: Itoshi parents takes care of them physically (buys them material things, makes sure they have a home to stay in, have a physical caretaker in their place), but emotionally? Rin and Sae seem to be pretty much left on their own. No wonder their relationship with each other broke down, and what little relationships they have with others seem like such a convoluted mess.

Thanks for sending the ask! I love hearing from people what they think about the latest chapters, characters, relationships etc. I hope you have a great day too!

[bafflinghaze]

Hi! You’re one of my favorite Drarry writers but I’ve also realized you like danmei (Chinese bl novels)! Heaven Official’s Blessing and anything by MXTX is awesome, but I was wondering if you know any other good novel recs? See, I would privately message this but I’m shy >\\\<

 HELLLLLOOOOO. Yes, aside from MXTX, I have so many good novel recs. I’m currently obsessed with e-sport novels lol, but I’ll categories them for you~

(Also, feel free to privately message me 🥺)

But first, my absolute favourite, the only one I’ve actually written fanfic for is:

Very Happy: happy actor x unhappy CEO, SUPER SOFT, SUPER FLUFFY, (and some good, good angst), I’ve re-read this like...over five times 🥺🥺🥺 Sooo much doting and devotedness~

Okay, now for the other recs, which are ranked by favourite ness within each category. Also, warning that some of these may or not may not be completed...

*(for people who don’t know, MC is main character, and ML is his love interest~)

Cultivation & ancient china novels:

Heavenly Soul by crimson_carnation: This is an original English BL xianxia, but you WON’T REGRET IT. The MC and ML are both super strong, and ML is really good at consent and there’s a lot of explicit sex (the beauty of original English hehe). There’s also a lot of other BL side couples too!

The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish: This...the MC transmigrates into the body of a fish. Sounds crack, doesn’t it? BUT IT’S SO GOOD. It’s so surprising just how many interactions MC can have with ML while in fish form. And then MC gains the ability to turn into a human for short amounts of time...and the humour shoots straight up. ML is SO THIRSTY haha. There’s also fanart already on twitter

The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post: The funny thing is the MC (gong) becomes a divine tree based human, and the ML is a cute cat that has cultivated to human form. So the MC is literally the ML’s scratching post 😂 MC is the ultimate crafting cultivator and has made many, many treasures, and also spends priceless amounts of materials and money on making cat items for his ML/master/previous pet cat.

The Jade Veterinarian by tigerine: another original English BL, the MC is a vet by accident. In the story, there are jade animals that have the ability to purify the land. However, for some reason, many of these animals have been...buried, have stopped working. MC ends up reviving them, and the jade animals love him haha

Modern novels:

Very Happy, of course.

Death Progress Bar: OMG. THIS. ACTION TO THE EXTREME! The MC goes from weak to strong AF, the ML is the leader of the biggest underworld organisation. The MC and ML protect each other~ Also, the MC’s five older brothers...they get so amusing as the story progresses.

Reborn with an Old Enemy on the Day of our Marriage: This is like enemies to lovers, but with the two main characters both being reborn back to their last year of school! SO FUN. Imagine if Harry and Draco slowly became friends and eventually got married post-war, but then returned back to Hogwarts at the start of Eighth Year, making everyone confused when H & D “suddenly” are best of friends 😂😂😂

King of Classical Music: The music, the details about how orchestras work....so good.... the MC was murdered and rebirthed into another violinist (in the same world) and he used this second chance in life to become an even more powerful and amazing violinist. The ML is an OP pianist lol

I’m Afraid I’m Now a Salted Fish: MC is a low-key actor, and ML is a boss at his entertainment company. BUT the twist is that MC wants to be a salted fish. ML wants to give him all the resources but MC is like no thanks!! And everyone thinks that MC and ML have a sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship, but it’s actually really cute and loving. ML wished he could act more the sugar daddy lol.

Rebirth of a Cannon Fodder from a Novel: MC had a horrible life, and was rebirthed back, also learning that he was a cannon fodder in a novel that centered around his sister’s amazingly lucky life. I really like this, because MC is smart, and the face-slapping is about using the law to persecute all the villains, and he only does this after they do something bad (i.e. it’s not like he’s punishing them for their crimes in his past life, grudges aside). ML is a CEO~

After Brushing Face At The Apocalypse’s Boss For 363 Days: the only “apocalypse” novel that I’ve actually read, it’s cool because the main character lives in both the original world and in the apocalypse world, and I thought the interactions of the MC and ML were amusing

Pastel Colours: The MC is a children's book illustrator, the ML works creating robots. Most of this is the MC looking after the ML’s cute little kid. There is angst about MC’s past, but overwhelming a lot of cuteness and love.

E-sport novels:

My Teammates Are All Crazy: This is SO CRACK. The MC plays what is considered the weakest character in the game. And he joins an e-sport team that...likes also to play the most random characters. This is FUN AF. When they start playing, they make the opposing team spit up blood so many times by playing the “weak” or “beginner” characters and completely trashing the opposing team.

The E-Sports Circle’s Toxic Assembly Camp: Here, “toxic” refers more to their trash talk rather than actually being toxic. The MC is the coach of the team, and ML is the team captain. Both of them are really strong gamers. 

Glory: The MC...he has such a glib mouth lol, basically flirting (with the ML) 24/7 but this “flirting” is just his admiration for ML. The ML is so conflicted because he likes the MC, but the MC is completely oblivious.

PUBG Online Romance of the Century: ...MC is such a voice con lol. He’s a livestreamer, and his first backer is ML. And ML’s voice...is to die for lolll. 

God Level Summoner: If I had to compare any other e-sport novel with The King’s Avatar, it would be God Level Summoner. The MC, an experienced gamer, is collecting a team, and fighting their way up the league! The battles are so detailed, and the MC and ML, although on different teams, are SO OP and BADASS whenever they pair up with each other.

Other:

Beloved Husband: (quick transmigration) A novel from the seme/gong perspective! The premise is that the seme transmigrates into the world, without any memories, but always falls in love immediately with his shou/uke. The previous owner of the body was a scum, but the main character isn’t, and does his best to love his husband~

Live Broadcasting Raising Dragons in the Interstellar: What it says on the tin, lol. It’s an A/B/O setting...that basically doesn’t come up. The MC has transmigrated and retains his abilities from his previous world. But again, it’s not so important, the important point is this calm, serious, somewhat cold-faced MC raises the cutest like dragon orphans and dragon kids. The ML is a dragon (dragons also have human form), and the ML is like...sometimes the smallest baby of all hehe

[peaches-writes]

syncopated

description: the 6 instances you and chan almost dated and the 1 drinking party when you asked him about them  member: bang chan genre: angst (?), fluff, college au, almost lovers au word count: 5.5.k warnings: explicit language, drinking

italicized text - present day

Y/B - your birthday

prologue

Minho clears the messy table in one swift motion—by that meaning he haphazardly pushes the half-empty bottles of soju and snack wrappers with one arm to pile on one side in order to make way for the mysterious object he hides behind his back. “Okay, let’s see if this is any good.” He mutters under his breath, thinking about how much he spent on the lie detector toy he places at the very center of the table. “Rock, paper, scissors on who starts the game?”

Though most on the table are already floating between being dead drunk and half-asleep, everyone eventually manages to put out a hand for the game, even Changbin whom you swear has been asleep for the past rounds of the mafia game. “Oh, also, penalty shot if the toy buzzes you!” Jisung slurs with a giggle as if it’s been the brightest thing he’s said throughout their entire party. “Rock, paper, scissors!”

In some five or six rounds (you lose count because of the amount of unrelated small talk in between), it then comes down to you and Chan.

“Do we move to the left or to the right of the first player?” Seungmin asks but no one answers.

Instead, Minho shrugs. “It’s whatever, we’ll decide later.”

Looking to your left across the table, Chan is surprisingly looking more sober than your seven other drinking buddies for tonight. He nurses a shot glass in one hand and his phone in the other, camera open in case Changbin does something stupid again since he’s suddenly woken up. "We could just do a coin toss.” 

“Nah, let’s just do a round of rock, paper, scissors. I don’t have coins with me, anyway.” You hold out your hand and he mimics your actions. “Rock, paper, scissors!” 

You pull paper and he pulls rock. 

“Ah, yes. perfect!” Hyunjin clasps his hands together and suddenly everyone seated on the table is awake, eyes directed to Chan whose right hand immediately gets strapped to the lie detector toy by an equally excited Minho. “Minho, should you ask him or should I?”

Before Minho could open his mouth to speak, however, a now very-much-awake Jisung beats him to it. “I’ll do it!” Seated next to you, he stands up and reaches to the lie detector, finger hovering above the button. “Bang Chan, did you or did you not have a serious crush on Y/N at one point?”

“Jisung, what the fuck?” You pull him back to his seat by the back of his shirt but he’s significantly faster, pressing the button on the lie detector toy before you could say more, a smug smile on his face. “Chan, you don’t have to answer, it’s cool.”

But everyone ignores you (even the man in question), looking on curiously and more awake now than ever. Briefly catching Chan’s eye, you see him contemplating with pursed lips and eyes trained down to the flashing lights of the toy, making it feel as if its ominous music is dragging on longer than usual.

“Well?” Seungmin urges on when the song seems to be coming to an end, uncharacteristically impatient when drunk.

“No?” And as if on cue, a buzz sound cuts the music as Chan’s hand is briefly electrified, his first instinct being to bring his hand closer to his chest with a wince. “Ow, shit!”

A beat of silence. No one says a word—you can barely read the expressions everyone else wears on their faces as Chan proceeds to take his hand off of the lie detector toy. 

“Oh shit, indeed.” Felix pours a shot glass of soju for Chan, sliding it to him from the other end of the table, before pouring one for himself. “I’m drinking to that.”

“Called it.” Jisung loudly whispers to Changbin who doesn’t even seemed fazed about what had just transpired—unlike you as you suddenly feel lightheaded with this new information. “Ya, Yang Jeongin, pay up!”

“What? I’m not paying up!”

Amidst the chaos that follows and the awkward energy that seems to bounce off between you and Chan, across from you, Minho suddenly thinks of what he considers his best drunken idea yet. “Hey, since Y/N’s here, how about a chance—trade the penalty shot for a question.” He suggests to Chan, effectively silencing the table once again. “If you answer the question, the penalty shot passes on to the next person.”

Looking at Chan, he squints his eyes, deep in thought. “I mean...”

“What can you say about Chan’s answer, Y/N?” Hyunjin dramatically holds a soju bottle to your direction like a gossip reporter. Everyone immediately turns from Chan to you.

“I—Well—“ You stutter out, finally catching Chan’s gaze again. “Is it true?”

“I only had happy crushes on you before, we already talked about that.” He awkwardly laughs, a hand to the nape of his neck in embarrassment as he turns to Minho. “Okay, I answered their question, can we move on to the next person?”

A chorus of ‘what?’s and ‘no!’s erupt around the table in reply, you can even see Minho shaking his head in disapproval and tsking at Chan. 

“Well, he did answer my question.” You try to come to Chan’s defense and he sends you a grateful smile you almost missed. “And we’ve talked about this before.” 

Well, sort of, if being dead drunk and admitting to having a happy crush on each other at another party a long time ago counts.  

But Hyunjin is quick to complain. “Come on, Y/N, that can’t be your question!” Hyunjin exclaims dramatically. 

Even Jeongin nods in agreement and you’re quick to glare at him at the feeling of betrayal. “Yeah, especially not after a juicy question!” He quips as well, adding salt to the wound. “We want an explanation!”

“Jeongin! I protected you during the mafia game!” “Y/N, my money’s also on the line here!” 

"Y/N, you should ask when exactly Chan had a crush on you.” Jisung suggests before raising his voice to your pitch in a bad imitation of you, “’Chan, when exactly did you have a crush on me?’” 

“Hey!” You call him out. “I don’t sound like that!” 

“Oh, look, Y/N just asked a great question!” Changbin follows after, ignoring your complaints that follow. “Care to answer, Chan?”

You wanted to say more, maybe even slap Changbin on the back for making Chan uncomfortable, but Chan waves his electrified hand dismissively to you and Changbin. “No, it’s okay, I can answer—if it’s okay with you, of course.” 

“N—” You shake your head no but Jisung is quick again to cover your mouth and interjecting (still in a bad imitation of you), “‘Sure, Chan!’” 

You swat Jisung’s hand away after, sending said boy in a fit of drunken giggles. “Chan —”

Without missing a beat, Chan begins with “Firstly during the freshman orientation.” that immediately silences you and the entire table.

Though being an even worse drunk at the other party, that definitely wasn’t what you talked about last time. 

“Firstly? So there’s a second? Ooh, I wanna know!” Hyunjin exclaims. 

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is feeling braver tonight than the last party. He initiates eye contact this time, silently asking if he can continue. Finally giving in out of intrigue, you nod in agreement. 

one - freshman orientation (4 yrs ago)

You sat next to Chan to his left on this day, wearing a striped black and white shirt and cuffed jeans that he didn’t know was a go-to until much later, after the MC, Jae, mixed the arrangement of the people in your circle. The game instruction was simple: to provide information on the person either to your left or right when the microphone is pointed at you. As the game progresses, the questions become more random and specific and people get eliminated if their guesses aren’t witty or close enough.

“Guys, are we ready?” Jae asks through his microphone, to which everyone replies with a chorus of ‘yeah’s and ‘yes’s as energetically as possible. “Alright, I’ll give you 2 minutes to talk to your seatmates! Go!”

You turned to the person on your left and so Chan turns to his right. You didn’t really have to, he finds out after the game, since you were already familiar with Mina whom you met on the much earlier university open house, and so you spent the remaining 1 minute and 40 seconds trying to memorize basic information about Chan after.

“So, Bang Chan or Chan, music prod major, birthday October 3, and you make music on Soundcloud with your friends.” Chan nods along happily to you summarizing what he just told you. “3racha, right?”

He nods one last time before pointing at you, “And for you, Y/N Y/L/N, broadcast major, birthday on Y/B, and we have Minho as a mutual friend.

“I think we’re ready.” You raise your hand for a high-five and he immediately receives it enthusiastically. “Later, when the questions get funnier, just nod along, okay?”

At that, Chan laughs amusedly. “Sure, okay.”

And then, the game starts.

-

“You really liked me then?” You ask in bewilderment, half your face distorted behind a glass of mule Seungmin poured for you as Minho, Hyunjin, and Jisung pressure Chan for more specific details.

“Of course, I did! Why are you judging me?”

“I thought you were trying to be cheeky then!”

-

After a few rounds, the questions are now completely random without any time to ask your seatmates. Chan gets picked first by the MC.

“Left, right, left, right, left, right, Chan, what are the last 2 digits of Y/N’s phone number?” The microphone is pointed then pointed to a startled Chan. 

You better give a witty answer, you think as if sending a telepathic message to him. Cruelly, Jae’s also twisted the game so that if he didn’t accept the answers, the person whom the question is about would also get eliminated.

And as if reading your mind, he doesn’t miss a beat in answering, “I’ll think about letting you know when I do get them—and the rest—later.”

Your entire circle erupts in cheers and whistles, even you laugh at his wit. When Chan glances over to you, you make sure to slap his arm. “Yah!”

“That was witty, though, wasn’t it?”

“You’re so confident about getting my number, huh?”

“Ah, well, can I?”

At the center of your circle, Jae asks (and thus interrupting you), “Will we accept that guys?” To which he’s immediately met with agreement. “Okay, fine, fine, we’ll take it!”

Turning to Chan when the game proceeds again, you conclude, “I’ll think about that later too.”

The two of you forgot to exchange phone numbers that day but you did get each other’s Facebook through Minho afterward. Chan only got your number during your first semester break. 

“Ey, we already know this one! What’s the second one?” Changbin waves Chan’s story dismissively.

By now, the truth or shot game that instigated this mess is almost forgotten despite being at the center of the table. Everyone listens intently to Chan as he recalls what he still considers to this day his best line.

“You act as if you’re the one being questioned.” You frown in disapproval.

“Yeah ‘cause unlike Jae we’re not taking this pick-up line!” Minho counters, if you consider such drunken slur as a comeback. “What about The Gig thing?”

You shrug, “What gig thing?” while Chan only looks at Minho to continue.

-

two - ‘the gig thing’ (10 months ago)

This was a time when everybody was undeniably stressed and burned out from academics, which should have been a given to you by then in your last stretch of 3rd year. Despite your teachers’ (poor) attempts at scheduling major projects, a handful of your most important deadlines were still due after the weekend which would mark 2 weeks before your finals. For this reason, you and Chan were on videocall the entire Friday night and Saturday early morning of said weekend, responsibly making sure to start what you can on your projects to feel less guilty about booking your entire weekend for leisurely activities.

Plus, Chan barely saw you outside of his classes for the whole semester since, after classes, he’s forced to work on his practical projects in his shared dorm with 3racha. The study buddy through videocall was also (secretly) an excuse to see you on his part. 

He missed you terribly then. 

The call was mostly quiet of conversation in the beginning, the only significant noise being the sound of the two of you typing on your respective laptops, the faint music of Chan’s practical project, and your mouse occasionally clicking on random Twitter posts whenever you start feeling drowsy. It was some time after midnight, when Chan was speeding through an idea for the chorus of his song, that you came across an interesting Twitter post.

“I sent you something on Messenger.” You hold your earphones’ mic closer to your lips, gaining Chan’s attention after a 2-second delay on his part. “It’s right across the new bookstore.”

The boy in question pauses his music, opening his laptop’s Messenger to see what you’ve sent. It was a poster for a prom-themed gig at a bar and grill right outside campus on Sunday night. Like you, what immediately caught his attention was the option to actually wear prom attire.

“Oh, this is cute.” He comments, more to himself than to you, after a while before looking up at you, a relatively large icon on the corner of his laptop despite the amount of files open on his home screen. “Do you want to go?”

You nod with a hum. “It sounds really fun!”

“You mean the optional dress code sounds really fun?” Chan snickers, knowing how much you feel the least stressed when you dress up. 

“Well, it’s not just that! The line-up looks promising too! And think about it, we could’ve met on your high school prom if Minho and I weren’t feeling too lazy to go. This could be like fulfilling a parallel universe possibility!”

Chan simply chuckles, ringing your ears with his tired laughter. You can’t help but laugh as well, finding your words a bit silly—but a 2 AM-appropriate type of silly. He never judges your humor. 

“Okay, we should go. Day6 and N.Flying are performing.” He concludes, making you squeal in satisfaction that momentarily startles him. Any excuse to see them before finals, he thinks to himself. “I don’t have a proper suit, though.”

“Not like I have flashy attire in my dorm, either.” You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just pick out something nice—for buying books and dancing! If people do show up dressing too well, we can just say our prom’s theme was vintage.”

The two of you laugh even harder.

-

“Hey, how come, I didn’t know any of this?” Seungmin complains at the mention of his favorite alumni band.

“Did you want to 3rd wheel on dumb and dumber over here?” Minho points to you and Chan. “Anyway, point is, Jisung and I caught these 2 red-handed!” 

“Red-handed of what? Listening to music?” 

On one end of the table, Felix giggles. “If Minho and Jisung caught dumb and dumber, then doesn’t that make 3rd wheel and 4th wheel? Like a car?” 

“Slow dancing!” Hyunjin dramatically gasps at this new information from an equally dramatic exclaim coming from Minho. 

-

You had no idea why Minho and Jisung came to know of this particular gig since it’s a fairly small event (not even your resident social butterfly Hyunjin knew about it), arriving 2 acts before Day6 came on stage. When they arrived (and dressed to the nines for people you haven’t seen outside a studio for the entire semester, as well), you and Chan were dancing to a cover of ‘I Love You So’ by the Walters in a crowd of mostly friend groups enjoying the music and reliving actual prom memories, making the snooping pair easily identify you. 

It wasn’t like seeing you and Chan dance closely, one of his hands on your waist while the other is picking a thumb wrestling fight with one of your own, was something different for your friend group, they were all used to it to the point of frequently confusing the 2 of you for a couple before, but Minho and Jisung had knowing smiles on their faces when they approached the 2 of you, copying your position even when the song that follows is livelier. 

“Oh, look at that, a cute couple!” Minho pretends to see you for the first time while twirling Jisung. “Chan, Y/N, we didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“We didn’t know you’d be here either.” You comment, unsure if you were mortified of being caught slow dancing with Chan just now or of the fact that it was Minho and Jisung, the 2 people who knew your past happy crush phase on Chan, of all people. 

- 

“I actually texted Minho.” Chan adds sheepishly as he recounts your ‘prom’. 

“What?” “I just asked him what to wear then I...sort of let it slip what I was dressing up for.” 

“What about Jisung?” “Oh, don’t worry Y/N, Minho invited me to snoop around.” 

- 

"Alright, continue slow dancing like an old couple then, we just came over to say hi.” Jisung then tugs Minho closer to the crowd forming right below the stage. “C’mon, Minho, they’re offering discounted drinks for couples with good outfits!” 

 “Okay, have fun you two, and leave 6 inches in between for Jesus!” You hear Minho yell at you as he’s being pulled away, making you laugh. 

“What the fuck was that?” You roll your eyes when the pair have disappeared to the nearby bar. 

At this, Chan notices the next act setting up on stage, “Oh, hey, N.Flying’s on. Do you want to get closer to the stage?” 

You follow his line of vision, seeing your favorite band greeting everyone on stage. “Oh shit, you’re right, let’s go!” 

Chan followed you around the dance floor throughout most of the night, even with Minho and Jisung coming over to dance and tease you every now and then. 

“Are you guys satisfied yet?” Chan asks, downing what remains of his soju. “Are we still even playing truth or shot?” 

“I was there so I can provide expert testimony.” Jisung hiccups on his drink. “And I think you were just hung up on what happened at the Christmas party.”

“And what are you suggesting, Sung?” You challenge him, swiping away his drink before he completely passes out. 

“That Chan had the most intense crush on you throughout Christmas break because of what you did at the party!” 

“Ugh, not that!”

-  

three - radio club christmas party (1 yr ago)

Last year, the exchange gift method on your radio club’s Christmas party was patterned to cheesy high school promposals. The dramatic the gesture, the better. It was Jisung’s idea and your alumnae moderator, Younghyun, was more than happy to back him up because it was right up his type of humor.

On the day of the Christmas party itself at the radio station’s lobby, all members huddled over a table of food and gifts, wearing questionable attires and hiding equally questionable props in their school bags. 

“Ah, I’m so embarrassed! Y/N, quick, it’s your turn!” Mina exclaims, running to you as you giggle, clutching her gift to you in your arms. At this point in the party, Jisung had just danced to all girl groups imaginable for Ryujin until she accepted his Christmas present, Ryujin had everyone (led by Mina whom she picked) on a treasure hunt around the school oval, and Mina had prepared the cheesiest tribute video imaginable documenting your friendship for the past 3 years before handing you your present.

 “Don’t worry, I loved it.” You chuckle, hugging her with your free hand while she covers her face with your other arm. Eventually, she lets you when you gesture that you need to stand up. 

You take out the signs you’ve been secretly making for the past week along with the present you’ve prepared for Chan before proceeding to your makeshift stage of the words “MERRY CHRISTMAS” in glittery buntings, a small Christmas tree decorated with any figurines but actual Christmas-related ones, and an oddly detailed portrait of Santa Clause. “I didn’t have the remaining braincells to think of something witty.” You chuckle, to which everyone follows along. “Which is especially disappointing since the person I’ve picked was being very witty when we met.” 

“But I know this person cried over Love, Actually, on last year’s Christmas party so I’m taking advantage of that.” Everyone but Chan laughs at this, already knowing that it’s him you’re referring to. 

So you turn to him, a mix of surprise, amusement, and secondhand embarrassment evident on his face, as you flip the signs you hold in time with your following words, “Christmas, love, gifts, festivities, and carols.” You cringe internally at your next words, hands visibly shaking as you flip to the last pair of signs, the one you just made (and decorated excessively) last night. “These are really pretty words but the prettiest word would be your yes when you agree to receive my gift as your Secret Santa this year.” 

Everyone bursts laughing, even you as you approach the now flustered Chan with your gift. He takes a moment to take his gift, too busy covering his reddened face as everyone else tries catching their breath, which allows you time to fan your own flushed face and calm your rapid heartbeat. 

“You have to say yes Chan!” Changbin scolds the older boy when he finally takes the gift from your hands. 

“No, it’s okay.” You wave your hand dismissively in front of the two before sitting down. 

“This is promposal-themed and you asked a yes so we need to hear a yes!” Jisung, ever the instigator of all of your troubles. 

“Chan, do you accept?” Mina asks in between laughs. 

“Y-Yes.” Chan manages to stutter out before breaking into more excited laughs. 

- 

“Ah, I think I do have to pay up.” Jeongin comments, feigning sadness. You glare at him. But then, he suddenly turns hopeful, “But then, Seungmin has to pay up too!” 

“What now this time?” You send daggers across the table to Seungmin who sips his soju with wide eyes. “Has everyone been betting on us this entire time?” 

“Just a couple...” Seungmin continues to sip on his soju slowly like he’s drinking tea. “Whether any one of you two has as ever had a serious crush on the other.” 

“Seungmin has to pay up because he thinks that you never had a serious crush on Chan because I know for a fact, as your neighbor, that you had a serious crush on Chan during that Christmas and before that.” 

“What?!” The entire table is quick to exclaim, even Chan who almost spat his drink on Minho. 

“Yah Yang Jeongin!” You hiss in an attempt to reach across the table before Changbin and Jisung managed to hold you down on your seat. 

“Tell us more, Jeongin.” Hyunjin now has his soju bottle pointed at the youngest. 

four - second year semester break (2 yrs ago)

Chan offered to help you prepare for an internship and treat you with coffee on the first day of your semester break, mostly on Changbin’s insistence since the older boy’s been cooped up in their dorms for the past month despite his deadlines being close to Christmas break. You were supposed to go home for the 2-week break, actually, but Jeongin tipped you off on a flyer he saw on his department building the other day for an internship that suited you better, the deadline of submissions being on the last day of the break. 

Plus, Changbin and Jisung needed someone to watch over Chan and make sure he’s not staying inside all the time. 

And so, the two of you sat outside the Starbuck’s inside campus, papers and laptops carefully laid around your coffee cups on the round table. You give Chan a book to occupy himself with in place of his laptop he usually looks at 24 hours a day while you worked on your internship application. 

 After a while, however, Chan decides on putting down the book to watch you fill out your form and research on the place you were applying for. 

“What?” You look up at him from your laptop. His coffee cup has been empty for a while and the book you lent him, an old copy of Pride and Prejudice, sits next to it with a bookmark halfway through. “Bored already?” 

“Do you need help?” He asks. “It’s not that Pride and Prejudice is boring, no offense, it’s just that I feel so...so idle.” 

“You sit for hours in one spot when you make music too, what gives?” You shrug with a teasing smile. 

He shrugs as well, not exactly sure of himself. “It’s like...I’m starting to have ideas while being outside but they’re not clear yet, while sitting here.” 

“Ah...” You nod understandingly. “Tell you what, I’m almost done with this actually so why don’t we go to the campus oval? Some kids play frisbee there on weekends, plus the sun’s warmest there around this time.”

“Really?” His eyes widen at the suggestion. 

You chuckle. “Sure. You need to explore around your own campus more anyway.” 

When you were finished with your papers, you took Chan to the campus oval and sat on the grass, watching some families play frisbee. 

- 

“That sounds suspiciously like a date.”  Hyunjin comments. “What can you say on this, Chan?” 

“It was a hangout.” Chan hesitantly corrects. 

“A babysitting job, more likely.” You add to which Changbin and Chan both laugh knowingly. 

- 

“So is this a date?” Chan asks you later that day. 

“You didn’t ask me out to this as a date.” You counter immediately. “Plus, I was working most of the time.” 

Chan shrugs. “But if it were, would you have considered it?” 

He was walking you back to your dorms and you realized that wording it that way (along with your current conversation) made it seem that you were just on a date, the thought suddenly lingering in your thoughts more than you wanted it to. “Maybe? I don’t know, Chan...” You conclude, trailing off. “You’re a cool person, though...”

“Should I try better next time?” “If you’re ever going to ask someone out, make sure to tell them your exact intentions, please, you’re a Libra for God’s sake.” 

That seems to diffuse the sudden tension between the two of you as Chan laughs. “Okay, noted.” 

Chan still thinks about this to this day every time he asks you to hangout alone and you vented out your conflicting feelings to Jeongin later that night. 

“Anything else, Jeongin?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Oh, hey, I remember something!” Changbin exclaims. “How could we miss Chan’s birthday from 3 years ago?” 

- 

five - chan’s birthday (3 yrs ago) 

You’ve never heard of the paranoia game until Chan’s birthday when Minho suggested it and called on all of Chan’s guests to participate. “Rules are simple.” The unofficial MC announced over his bottle of soju like a microphone. “I start by picking out someone and asking them a question in private. They answer by choosing another person then we do a coin flip if the person I asked reveals the question or not. And it goes on and on and on!” 

The game does goes on and on but it only seemed endless because every time Minho flipped a coin, it would always land on the choice to not reveal the question, frustrating everyone to no end. 

“This game should have some drama but the drama’s not coming.” Sana frowns next to you while Felix whispers something in Chan’s ear at the center of the circle. 

“I know.” You agree, that is, until you see Chan approaching you from the corner of your eye. 

He extends a hand out to help you stand up. Behind him, everyone cheers for a reason you weren’t aware then (only to later find out that almost everyone you knew confused the two of you for a couple). So, reluctantly, you accept his hand, standing up and following him to the center of the circle without even noticing that he didn’t let go of your hand until Minho tossed a coin. 

“Ah, goddamn it!” Minho groans. “Stupid coin doesn’t want to reveal the stupid questions!” 

“Ey, everyone knows what the question is anyway.” Changbin dismisses. 

“I don’t know.” You mutter under your breath which Chan immediately catches. 

“Ah, you don’t have to know.” He hurriedly tells you with flushes cheeks. 

- 

“We didn’t miss that, fool, that was what Chan and Y/N were talking about when they said they’ve talked about this before.” Seungmin points out. 

You shake your head disapprovingly, “Okay, I’ve had enough. Can we talk about something else?” You push the lie detector toy to Minho. “Since you started this mess, come on, Lee, I dare you.” 

epilogue - chan’s birthday party (3 yrs ago)

The party was slowly dying down at around 3:15 AM, when your Uber messaged you in the middle of an intimate conversation with your friends. “My Uber’s here.” You announce softly over the acoustic music playing from Changbin’s phone, standing up afterwards to straighten out your attire. Turning to Chan you add, “I’m heading out, happy birthday again, Chan.” 

“Wait, let me see you out.” The birthday boy in question follows your actions after.

“You don’t have to.” “I insist, it’s late and there could be creeps out on the street.”

He sends you a persistent look and you give in tiredly. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” The group then proceeds to bid you goodbye in hugs and ‘goodnight’s before Chan escorts you out of his dorm. 

You reach the elevator in no time, finding its lights harsh against the soft light of the hallway your eyes have been accustomed to throughout your walk. 

“Thanks for coming, by the way.” Chan decides to speak up once the elevator door closes. His dorm is on the topmost floor, the elevator ride down taking around 3 minutes since the elevator itself’s already rusty and has a tendency to stop on floors for no reason. 

"Of course.” You nod. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on Seungmin’s first alcoholic drink.” 

Chan laughs with you at this but both of you can unconsciously agree that there was an awkward tension in the air. “Listen, about the paranoia game a while ago...” He starts, trailing off when you finally turn your head towards his direction. 

You pretend to be nonchalant about it, shrugging, “What about it?” 

“It just seems like the question Felix asked me bothers you.” 

You try to smile reassuringly. “I’m sure Felix doesn’t talk shit about me behind my back...unless of course he told you something embarrassing then that would be a different story!” 

The elevator dings! and opens on the wrong floor. Chan is quick to press on the lobby button again. “Well, since it’s just us...he just asked me to pick the person whom I have a happy crush on.” 

He said it casually as he can, with the best attempt he had of ignoring his rapid heartbeat and clammy hands, almost missing the way your eyes widened in the brief silence that followed.

“Y-You? Have a crush on me?” You repeated in disbelief, a bit breathless for no reason. “Wow...” 

“Yeah but it’s just a happy crush, though!” He’s quick to clarify, hands waving frantically around while he speaks. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, no, it’s cool, it’s cool.” You assure him, cringing internally at repeating your words. “I had a happy crush on you too some time ago so it’s...it’s cool.” 

“Really?” You nod at his question. 

“I don’t have a happy crush on you now, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.” You chuckle awkwardly. 

Finally, the elevator door opens to the lobby. You quickly step out. 

“I think it’d be weird.” You add, though deep inside you knew it felt weird saying that out loud. “Similar friend groups and all.” 

Chan nods in agreement. “Right! Right.” 

“So...this is me, unless you want to escort me to the Uber?” You call for your Uber driver’s attention, signalling for him that you’ll be there in a second. “I’ll just text you the plate number and everything in case something happens.” 

“Okay.” He nods again. “Go home safe and remember to text me.” 

“Yup! Goodnight, Chan.” You smile at him one last time, though it feels heavy somehow (it still does to this day). “Happy birthday...well, belated.” 

“Thanks.” He returns your smile. “Goodnight, too.” 

When you arrived home, you made sure to text Chan again with a goodnight message and a happy birthday, ending it with the sloppy ‘I hope we’re still good friends after this’ remark that you’ve long deleted from your phone history. 

Of course, Chan read and re-read this message until morning.

[welllpthisishappening]

Where the Love Light Gleams

Killian was going to kill his brother. 

Which wasn’t very festive, but neither was being away from his girlfriend on Christmas Eve and this was all Liam’s fault. Or so he would claim. While rationalizing his current tendency to wallow, and stare at his phone and he’d spent far too much time on his phone that night. 

Whatever, it was Christmas Eve. That was definitely a reasonable excuse. 

---

Rating: Teen, with banter and friendship and kissing Word Count: 5.1 K AN: It’s me! Someone who can’t seem to write an MC to save her present life, but loves few things more than Christmas-type fluff and is therefore filling Christmas-type prompts again. Today’s comes from @shireness-says​​ who is always wonderful about replying to these sort of things and requested: 

"you had a business trip and i missed you so much that i kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?" and “we’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

Both of which I almost legitimately filled. Just kind of—twisted. As is tradition. If you are so inclined to send a prompt from this very long list, you can pick one here, and I’ll do my best to write it before Christmas. 

This one is also on Ao3 if that’s your jam, where I’ll be posting all of ‘em. 

---

“Are you moping? It kind of looks like you’re moping.”

“Wow, such unparalleled observational skills. You should become a private investigator.”

Sticking her tongue out, Ariel made some sort of objection-type noise in the back of her throat, which probably would have made Killian smile in any other situation. On any other day. A day that wasn’t Christmas Eve. 

When he was absolutely, positively moping. 

It was a miracle he hadn’t frozen like this. That would have done irreparable damage to his spine, he was sure. 

He wasn’t really sitting up very straight. 

“There can’t possibly still be private investigators in the world,” Ariel challenged, brushing a wayward strand of hair away from her face and it was far too windy on the docks. If Killian didn’t get off the docks soon, he was going to scream. 

Or mope for the rest of the holiday season. At least until the New Year. That seemed reasonable, honestly. 

He was going to strangle Liam. 

This was all his fault. 

“You’re kidding me, right? What—what kind of world do you think we’re living in?” Ariel shrugged. “One that’s progressed past the need for private investigators, obviously. And I object to the notion that I would require any sort of PI-type skills to know that you’re being an absolute and complete, although also kind of understandable, idiot.” 

“Those words don’t go together.” “What do people hire private investigators for, anyway?” “Loads of stuff.” “Give me one example.” He huffed, irritation rattling around his skull and mixing in with a begrudging appreciation because he knew Ariel felt bad and maybe he’d kick Liam too. “Missing kids.” “Yeesh, that’s awfully negative.” “What was that about accusing me of moping before? I’m playing to those accusations.” “Ok, but we already decided they were observations, so you don’t get to rename them now that you’re feeling particularly jerk-like.” “I’m here, aren’t I? Makes it seem less jerk-like.”

Another shrug. And a specific quirk of her lips that Killian was far too well-acquainted with. The muscles in his cheeks were almost starting to ache. 

Presumably from holding them in this position for so long. 

He was absolutely moping. 

But he’d already been in Boston two days longer than he planned on, and none of this was really going according to plan. He’d checked his phone no less than forty-seven times in the last forty-five minutes. He hated that. Staring at that screen made him feel like a clingy freak, who couldn’t go more than a few minutes without talking to his girlfriend, and Killian had complained about those people enough times that his current tendency to do it made him despise himself just a bit. 

And yet he couldn’t stop. 

His thumbs flew across the keys, sending complaints and updates and smiling in spite of his own situation. 

Like a psychopath. One who was quite obviously frustrated. 

With several thousand things, it seemed — the most pressing of which was his distinct lack of festive nature, caused almost entirely by the issues with the expansion in Boston and adding another ship in Boston was supposed to be easy. 

Until Eric got the flu, and it was understandably difficult to captain a sightseeing holiday cruise when you couldn’t actually stand up for more than two minutes at a time, and Killian couldn’t say no to his brother when they both had so much money tied up in this, and if Liam was going to fly in to make sure everything stayed the metaphorical course, then the least Killian could do was drive in from New York. 

Or so Liam had told him. In no uncertain terms. 

Except Liam had also brought Belle with him and that somehow seemed like cheating, and Killian should have asked Emma to come. 

She had to work. He’d missed Mary Margaret and David’s Christmas Eve party. 

Which normally wouldn’t have felt like the end of the world, partially because Mary Margaret’s fruitcake was notoriously awful, but this year it made Killian’s heart feel like it was fragmenting in his chest and Emma’s photos had gotten progressively more and more blurry as the night went on. Mary Margaret also notoriously bought a questionable number of Prosecco bottles for the Christmas Eve party. 

“You are,” Ariel agreed, a string of words that caught Killian off guard when he was so deep in his own wallowing. “Which is super nice, but—” “—How can there be a but in this situation?” “There are several, actually, except the biggest one is how three different people on tonight’s cruise wanted to know why the first mate was so obviously distracted.” “They called me first mate?” “People think it’s funny to use nautical terms in real life.”

Slumping forward did not do anything to help the state of Killian’s spine, only managed to make sure his hair fluttered in front of his eyes when a salt-tinged breeze blew off the Harbor and he briefly wondered how dramatic he could get. He needed to exhale some more. 

He needed to go home. “Anyway,” Ariel continued, “they wanted to know why the first mate was on his phone all the time, and if the first mate was available and—” “—I’m sorry, what?”

“You have a face, you know that right?” “Now you’re just saying words.”

If she kept sticking her tongue out at its current rate, it was going to get frost-bitten. “These are compliments, you’re an ass and I owe you just—a metric ton of rum, the good kind, for doing all of this.” “Giving me whiplash,” Killian muttered, but one side of his mouth tugged up despite his best efforts to remain as depressing as possible. Ariel’s eyes got brighter. Rivaled the lights still flickering along the railing of their very nice, very new, decidedly expensive multi-level ship, and it had only taken about fourteen seconds for Killian to make that one photo Emma had sent him his phone background. 

That probably wasn’t weird.

“So, people wanted to know about you,” Ariel said, “and your previously discussed face, and rather than employee a PI because it’s not 1947—” “—Oddly specific.” “I will kill you.” “God bless us, everyone.” “Your very helpful and exceedingly sure of his own obnoxious brand of humor brother was very quick to inform all the interested parties that the first mate was distracted because he unfortunately wasn’t with his wife for Christmas.”

Ariel’s murder threat was not only out of place considering the date, it was pointless because he was going to guarantee he died all on his own. Killian nearly fell off the edge of the dock. 

One of his knees buckled, gaping at his friend and business partner like she’d only recently grown a few extra heads. She didn’t shrug again. Smiled, in her best impression of a variety of fictional and overly confident cats, but her shoulders stayed frustratingly still and that was—

“Emma and I aren’t married,” Killian sputtered, not entirely stunned to find those particular words difficult to say in that order. Half a plan rattled around with the rest of the emotions circling his skull, and he hadn’t really acted on the plan, but he’d been pondering and considering for at least a few weeks before his phone had rung. 

And that was only kind of a lie. 

He’d been doing a lot more than pondering for much longer than a few weeks. Considering had flown out the imaginary window, like��as soon as he and Emma had moved in together. 

Liam didn’t know any of that, though. 

At least in theory. 

Maybe strangling his brother was something of an overreaction. 

He still wanted to go home, though. 

“Liam knows that,” Ariel reasoned, “and I know that. And obviously you know that, but none of your on-water admirers know that, and you were playing your part very well.” “What?” “Glued to your phone, all night. Like a clingy newlywed.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Is it? Because while not technically true—” “—Or true at all,” Killian interrupted, and he wondered if he was getting used to the feel of his heart doing whatever it was doing, or he was just growing more melodramatic by the second. At some point in the last twelve minutes the idea of walking back to New York had become rather appealing. 

“Well, whatever. It was a good excuse, and it’s not like it was one-sided texting and it’s kind of romantic. All things considered.” “What are all the things, exactly?” That shrug came with another smile — far too knowing for Killian’s liking, but he also knew Ariel wouldn’t go back on her rum-buying word, and he supposed there was something to be said for that. Especially if it was good rum. “If you’re going to play the part…” “Look who’s being a romantic now.” “I’ve spent most of the lead-up to Christmas trying to force-feed Pedialyte on my husband. Got to get my romance from somewhere and you’re like—Hallmark Channel ready.” “Probably couldn’t have as much alcohol, then.” “How many bottles of Prosecco do you think Mary Margaret bought this year?”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Killian scrolled back through the more than two dozen photos he’d been sent over the course of the night until he found the one he was looking for. Of a table covered in green-hued bottles with plastic champagne flutes that Mary Margaret must have bought in bulk and— 

Ariel’s laugh hung in the air around them, louder than it probably should have been considering the time, but they were also by themselves and he was still kind of moping. So. The world could cope with their collective volume. 

“Do you think she gets a discount for buying so many?” Killian shook his head. “If she doesn’t, she’s being robbed.” “Get the private investigators on the case.” “Challenge Liam to a comedic battle.” “Not if we’re calling it that,” Ariel argued, bumping her shoulder against Killian’s leg. And he wasn’t sure if he was actually smiling, but his lips were moving and his heart didn’t appear to be shattering quite as much anymore and he hoped Emma fell asleep. 

On Mary Margaret and David’s couch. 

They wouldn’t let her go home, he was sure. 

He hadn't gotten a text in awhile. 

He was less sure about the shadows moving towards them, though — because he’d been a little distracted when they docked, but he watched Liam and Belle get into their rental car and there was absolutely no reason for either one of them to be back on the docks, but anyone else showing up on the docks at eleven o’clock at night was probably a sign that Killian and Ariel were about to be robbed. In a far more literal sense than whatever happened with Mary Margaret and her plastic champagne flutes. 

“You guys good?” Ariel asked, sounding more aware of what was going on than she should have been. Killian’s eyes narrowed. 

That made it only slightly difficult to see the overall width of his brother’s answering smile. 

Plus, it was dark out.

“Better,” Liam said, “she's an absolute natural.”

Scrunching her nose, Belle waved off the compliment. “Please, all I have to do is stand there and be helpful.” “Yeah, but that’s more than Killian was able to do today, so…” “He was distracted.” “And standing right here,” Killian muttered, although standing was a little generous. His left knee was still awful bent. In an unnatural sort of way. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Liam asked. Gesturing towards Killian’s posture, he tilted his head and that was even more judgmental than any of the words Ariel hadn’t bothered saying. “Can’t be good for your ACL or whatever.” Belle clicked her tongue. “Adding the whatever makes it sound less official, really.” “And we’re trying to be official,” Ariel chipped in, clamoring to her feet. By using the side of Killian’s jacket for leverage, tugging on fabric until she threatened to tear it and that also would have been impressive if it didn’t feel suspiciously like he was about to pass out. 

She wrapped her arms around Killian’s middle. 

That kind of helped, honestly. 

He’d never admit to it.   

“Official about what, exactly?” Killian asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

Liam’s smile got wider. “We could ask you the same question, but we’ve already claimed way too much of your time and—” “—Wait, what?” “Killian seriously,” Ariel sighed, “if you keep interrupting, we’re never going to get to the fun and passably romantic part of the plan.” “Oh, no it’s definitely more than passably romantic,” Belle argued. 

“Depends on him, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but he was glued to his phone and I’ve got at least twenty bucks on this happening before New Year’s Eve, so—” “—New Year’s Eve would be really romantic, actually!” “No, no, no,” Liam objected, voice rising on every repeat, “I’ve got Christmas morning, and that means he’s got to go now.” Not having anything to drink made it impossible for Killian to claim intoxication as a reason for the current spin rate of his head. Metaphorically, at least. Even so, he felt a little dizzy and slightly out of breath, trying very hard not to topple into the water. 

There was no way he’d be able to disentangle himself from Ariel before he did that. 

And then she’d get annoyed. 

“What is going on?” Killian demanded, pausing between each word for emphasis. Liam’s lips disappeared. Behind his teeth. 

While he failed spectacularly at containing his laugh. “We’re kicking you out,” Belle said simply, like that made sense and they hadn’t all but required his presence in Boston less than seventy-two hours earlier. 

Killian blinked. Once, twice. Half a dozen times. Nothing changed. Ariel’s arms tightened, maybe — but Liam didn’t move, and Belle’s nose still had that scrunch-like effect, and the lights on their ship really did make it appropriately festive. 

“And apologizing,” Ariel added. “We should make that more obvious.”

Blinking more was stupid. 

Talking probably would have helped. But Killian’s tongue suddenly took up far too much space in his mouth, next to all the imaginary cotton balls that were impeding his ability to breathe and it could not have been healthy for so many body parts to consistently fail like that. 

“This is really my fault,” Liam admitted, taking a step forward to clap Killian on the shoulder. His right knee bent that time. At least his reactions were symmetrical. “And I—well, I...I was so worried about the money and the party and—” “—We didn’t really think about your plans,” Belle finished. Opening his mouth, Killian genuinely could not come up with a word to describe whatever sound he made. Something between a scoff and that huff he was trying to accomplish before, but also drifting dangerously close to laughter borne of disbelief and his back actually had the gall to pop when he leaned forward. 

“I don’t have plans.” “Please,” Ariel scoffed, “you have at least the hope for plans, and that’s nice in a way that deserves a better adjective and all that rum I promise.” Liam’s eyes widened. “How much rum are we talking?” “Enough that you stop spending so much time talking about the proper light to string ratio.” “What does that even mean?” Killian balked. 

Shaking her head, Belle moved into his space as well. Both her hands landed on the front of his jacket, and Killian wasn’t exactly cold per se, but there was something inherently comforting about his sister-in-law’s smile and the way she always smelled a bit like vanilla. 

As if she were just minutes away from baking something, at all times. 

“Telling you to come here was a dick move,” Belle announced, Ariel’s head finding Killian’s shoulder when she started to cackle once more. They were all standing too close to each other. Someone was going to step on someone else’s foot. “And,” she continued, “Liam was right. This is totally his fault, but he’s running on like...no sleep, because we’re—” She grit her teeth, another unfinished sentence that frustrated Killian for about eight and half seconds. Before it all clicked at nine. “No, shit.” “Shit,” Belle confirmed, another smile and her left foot landed on Killian’s right when he pulled into a far-too-tight hug. Ariel had to move her arms. “Babies are expensive you see,” Liam said, “and we’d already funneled so much money into this, the party had to happen and I wasn’t sure if Belle was going to be able to come with me because—” “—They don’t tell you morning sickness lasts all day,” she grumbled. Killian’s laugh had an almost manic edge to it, suddenly happier than he thought he could be and that was more appropriate for the time. Of both the day and season. 

“So,” Liam added, “I kind of lost my mind about Eric, and didn’t think about you or Emma or how stupid you’d be when you weren’t around Emma at Christmas because it’s so goddamn obvious what you’re planning.”

Heat rose in Killian’s cheeks, a questionably large inferno that suddenly flared to life in the pit of his stomach. “I haven’t totally decided.” “Yeah, well that’s dumb.” “Rife with opinions tonight, aren’t you?” “We’re kicking you out,” Belle repeated. “With our apologies that I wasn’t on the ship tonight because that shrimp appetizer smell made me want to die a little.” Ariel sighed. “Do all our statements have to be so violent? There should be more positivity to all of this.” “There will be if Killian can get me my twenty bucks.” “Why are you betting on this?” he asked, but the distinct lack of frustration in his voice was obvious even to him. Belle laughed. “Because calling you a newlywed was not nearly as unbelievable as it should have been, and if you get with the program you could probably have your rehearsal dinner on one of our very accommodating ships with an appetizer that does not include shrimp.” “I’m not really a huge fan of shellfish.” “See, the perfect plan.” An objection sat on the tip of Killian’s tongue — if only because he was decidedly stubborn and now a little worried about his brother’s expanding family, but his own family was not in Boston and he’d really like Emma to be his family. In an official sort of capacity. 

“But what about—” “—No, absolutely not,” Belle cut in before Killian could finish, “that’s what we were doing. Going over the plans for tomorrow’s lunch cruise, and everything you were supposed to do, which I’m pretty confident I can do now, mostly because my husband is here and I won’t be tempted to text him the entire time.” “At least not much,” Liam quipped. The pinch between Killian’s eyebrows was going to stay there forever. If not longer. “And then I’ll also text you, at an appropriate time tomorrow, to apologize for being a massive Christmas bastard.” Hair hit Killian’s cheek. Not his. Distinctly red and smelling like shampoo she’d definitely spent far too much money on, Ariel’s hair blew around her when she threw her head back. With laughter. The catching sort, spreading like wildfire through their tiny group, until Belle had to wrap her arm around her middle to stay up, and Killian’s stomach ached just a bit and it took him a moment to realize he’d made another fire pun. 

In his head. He needed to go home. 

“Was Ariel a distraction?”

She kicked his ankle. “Rude, and yeah obviously. Liam is so goddamn overprotective with his unborn child, it’s disgusting.” “And nice,” Belle grinned. 

Exhaling, Liam tugged on the back of his hair. A tell, and an apology without the words. Killian wanted the words. Even if it took a few extra minutes. “Seriously,” Liam said, “a Christmas bastard, which is not an excuse, but—I’m sorry. For the batard’ness, and bringing you here, and not explaining the reasons behind the bastard. And also for ruining your plans.” “I really have no plans,” Killian promised, but that fell a bit flat and he at least had rather specific wants. Of the desire-type variety. 

“So fix that. Like as soon as possible.” “For my twenty bucks,” Belle said with another yank on Killian’s jacket. The poor jacket was not going to last much longer. 

Ariel rolled her eyes. “She’s obsessed with the twenty bucks.” “Because your husband will have to pay it!” “Should you have bet with an invalid?” Killian asked, trying without much immediate success to take a step away from either one of them. “And what kind of Pedialyte flavor are you forcing?” “The purple kind.” “Blue’s definitely better.” Liam looked frustrated. 

That felt like something of a victory. “Were you going to go, Killian? Or—” Kissing the top of Ariel’s hair and pulling Belle into one more hug, Killian flipped off his brother, muttered Merry Christmas, don’t sink the boat, and would never admit to running back towards his car. Or how quickly he drove home. 

It took at least twenty-six minutes to find a parking spot. 

Four blocks away. 

Still, Killian assumed he was running on holiday-fueled adrenaline and something almost resembling romance and the distinct lack of anything in his pocket was a challenge he viewed as quirky more than anything else. 

He bounded up the steps, nearly dropping his keys more than once before he managed to unlock the door only to be immediately hit in the face. With what felt suspiciously like garland. 

And Killian hadn’t really planned on spending much time in their apartment, only thinking about a few hours of sleep before driving to Mary Margaret and David’s house on the Island because he might have come up with half a list of sweepingly romantic things to do, but he wasn’t a total jerk who would show up on someone else’s doorstep in the middle of the goddamn night, and it obviously did not make a single ounce of difference. 

While he was being strangled with garland. 

Blinking against the darkness of their living room, Killian’s brain couldn’t quite come to terms with what he was seeing. Like the ninth floor of the Herald Square Macy’s had exploded. Tinsel hung from what appeared to be actual ivy, pinned along the top of the wall with startling accuracy. Lights meant to resemble icicles reflected against every window pane, and there was an actual tree in the corner. 

Every one of his inhales had a distinct pine-like scent to it, like he was standing in the middle of a forest, and Killian did not think they owned that many ornaments when he left. 

They hadn’t owned any ornaments, so it was a rather easy number to remember. 

A star was balanced precariously at the top of the tree, paper snowflakes dropping from the ceiling and—

Emma curled in the corner of the couch. 

With at least four blankets covering her. She was a notorious blanket thief. 

Mary Margaret hadn’t woken up either, twisted into the other end of the cushions, and Killian couldn’t fathom how they were comfortable, but he was also admittedly a little distracted by the desire of his lungs to keep providing oxygen to the rest of his body and David’s eyes were alarmingly wide. 

“What are you doing here?” “I live here,” Killian hissed, swatting away the garland. Bits of it fell onto the top of his sneakers. “What are you doing here?” “Helping.” “What?” “Helping,” David said slowly, like Killian simply did not understand the word and not all the meaning behind it. “She—well, the decorations left something to be desired, and you know Mary Margaret. There’s a project, so she’s got to help and—” “—Wait, wait, wait, did Emma do all this?”

Waving both his hands in the air, David didn’t bother to say obviously when the movement made it so abundantly clear. Killian’s jaw dropped. 

Something popped there as well. Which probably wasn’t what woke Emma up, but thinking that was almost nice in another way that deserve a better adjective, and the overall force of her smile as soon as her eyes landed on him made every bit of splintered heart still lingering in his chest knit itself back together. 

Immediately. 

“Should I be concerned that you’re deserting?” she asked, hooking her chin over the back of the couch. As if she’d been expecting this exact situation. Killian shook his head. “Nah, this is a wholly authorized shore leave.” David’s groan very likely hurt the inside of his throat. 

“What happened here, Swan?” Pink immediately colored her expression, every one of her teeth obvious when she grit them. Mary Margaret must have been the soundest sleeper in the Universe. Or she’d had a questionable amount of Prosecco to drink that night. “Christmas?” That was as good a reason as any, honestly. Although that stubborn streak of his ran several nautical miles wide, and nearly tripping over the garland on his few steps towards the couch made Emma’s shoulders shake. 

Killian knelt in front of her.

Step one accomplished, then. 

“It’s super lame,” Emma warned, but Killian’s heart was doing more biologically impossible things and his eyes fluttered when she brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I just—well, you weren’t here, and that kind of ruined any of my festive-type feelings, which as we all know are shaky at best.” “Work in progress, love.” Her tongue sticking between her lips was not as annoying as Ariel’s had been. Killian figured that had something to do with the desire to kiss her. And not Ariel. Who would have smacked him at even the allusion to such a thing. “Well,” Emma mumbled, “the lack of appropriate holiday spirit reared its head like—as soon as you closed the door behind you, but then I went to the party and you kept texting me and—” “—I’m sorry, I was texting you? You were texting me!” “God,” David grumbled, dropping into the only chair left in the living room. There should have been more chairs in the living room. “It’s ridiculous, the pair of you.” Killian narrowed his eyes. Glaring was too difficult. “Why are you here?” “I told you, helping.” “He did,” Emma said. “Both him and Mary Margaret, really. I, ok—well, whoever was texting who, it doesn’t really matter. Just that Ruth thinks we’re married.” Of all the ways that sentence could have ended, Killian was loath to admit hearing that David’s mother believed the same lie Liam had been spouting to Boston tourists was not one of them. 

“She does,” Emma continued, rushing over the words, “for some reason. But she kept saying how nice it was that a young couple like us was able to keep in touch when we weren’t together for the holidays and I was really kind of drunk, and even more upset that you weren’t going to be here, so my mind just kind of latched onto things and—” Pulling in a deep breath made her shoulders shift again, Killian’s eyes taking in every moment so he could commit them all to memory and the question was out of his mouth before he realized Emma was still talking. “Will you marry me?” “Do you want to get married?”

David fell out of the chair. 

Slid, technically. Directly onto the floor and next to presents that were almost perfectly wrapped with color coordinated bows on each of them. 

“What?” Killian breathed, Emma’s hand flying to her mouth. Left one, so that helped too actually. None of his fingers shook when he reached up, pulling that same hand down and kissing the bend of her knuckles. Tears clouded Emma’s eyes, falling on her cheeks faster than he could brush them away. 

With his mouth. Killian tried all the same. 

While ignoring the increasing volume of David’s rather uproarious laugh. He was texting someone. Probably Ariel, who very likely was requiring play-by-play. And had timed Killian’s drive home. 

“That was kind of...this,” Emma explained, nodding towards the living room. “I—I wanted to decorate, and make it Christmas when you got back because...well, I blame the alcohol and your brother and—” “—That’s fair, honestly. Belle’s pregnant, by the way.” “No shit.” “Shit,” Killian confirmed, a repeat he’d share later. Once they got all this engagement business sorted out. “They’re pretty incredible decorations.” “Yeah, well flattery will get you everywhere.” Huffing out a breath, Emma’s head dropped to his, and that made it easier to get his fingers in her hair. “This made a lot of sense when I was drunker. But, uh—I needed to do something with all that energy and sudden holiday thoughts and I’ve got a lot of thoughts about your face, you know that?” Ariel was going to be insufferable. 

Killian would make her buy some Moscato, too. That was Emma’s favorite. “Gave me something to do,” Emma added, “and then I figured you’d get home and there’d be some sweeping and we could do something about Ruth’s assumptions and I think we’d be really good at being married.” Kissing her was the only reasonable option. Even as David sounded like he was in physical pain. 

Surging up, Killian’s mouth all but slammed into Emma’s, tilting his head so he got to that one, perfect angle that allowed his tongue to swipe across her lips and draw that even more perfect sound out of her, and he was only dimly aware of Mary Margaret waking up. The couch creaked when she moved. 

Killian didn’t. 

His fingers carded through Emma’s hair, only breaking apart to appease his lungs and the requirements of his body before kissing her again, and his knees kind of ached. Presumably from supporting most of their collective weight when Emma was kind of draped across him. “Don’t go in the bedroom, ok?” Humming against her only guaranteed David made another noise of protest, but it was nice that they’d helped decorate and Killian could only imagine how they’d gotten all that ivy on the wall. 

“That’s, uh—” Emma leaned back, one of her eyes squeezed closed. “Where we put all the extra non-holiday stuff, and it’s kind of a disaster.”

“Tore up the apartment, like she had separation anxiety,” Mary Margaret slurred, and Killian refused to be held accountable for whatever his face did at that. 

David rolled his whole head. Emma shrugged. He liked that one the best. “So, uh—” “Yeah,” Killian finished, before he could stop himself and any qualms either one of them had once had about clingy relationships or relationship qualifiers appeared to disappear before their eyes. Like frost on the window. Which was seasonally appropriate. “I think we’d be really good at marriage.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Where’d you get the decorations from, though?” “You’re welcome,” Mary Margaret replied, sounding a bit more coherent and just as exhausted. That was fair. It was close to four in the morning. 

Emma nodded. “Definite separation anxiety. So we should probably not do this again, and then you can help decorate.” “Deal,” Killian promised, and they didn’t bother waiting for an appropriate time to call Liam. Or Ariel, who crowded into the video call because, as she claimed, it was her living room and her twenty bucks and her shriek probably affected the structural integrity of her house. 

The rum showed up two days later. 

And made for a very good toast, as soon Killian slipped the ring onto Emma’s finger. They picked it out together. 

[sunflowersseemhappy]

“You’re worth every second of my time.” Julian X Gender Neutral MC (fluff)

I really needed some fluff, and damn I kinda wish someone would hold me like I imagine Julian would. 

It was a few minutes past midnight when you awoke to a mysterious plinking sound coming from your window, when it first woke you, you ignored it. Shifting in your sleep and going to pull your blankets above your head, only to realise you were not in bed but rather propped in your favourite chair. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it seemed to have just happened. Clearly that novel you had set you heart on finishing had evaded your intentions, it sat flat on the floor now. The plinking came again and this time you couldn’t bear to ignore it any longer, even if you crawled back to bed it would probably plague your sleep.

Searching the dark room, you couldn’t quite tell what the immediate source of the sound was, but as you scoured the room glancing from bookshelf to nightstand to bed you began wondering if the source was located somewhere else. Then something hit you in the back of the head.

“Ow!” Wincing you turn around, as a pebble drops to the floor. The stinging pain not quite gone you pick it up and examine the stone, wondering where it could have come from. “What in the world?”

“Pssst-” Glancing around you eye the room, perhaps you were just imaging things. Then the ‘pssst’ comes again, drawing your gaze to notice the window propped open. You had barely noticed the cool night air spilling into the room, its grip enveloping you like water. This time you see as well as hear the source of the sound as a pebble glances off the glass and falls away, another moment and another pebble hits the window with a resounding ‘plink’. Sighing almost in relief you make your way over to the window and look out onto the street.

 “Julian?” You can barely make him out in the darkness, but he stands just close enough to a streetlamp that you can make out his outline. He’s swaying on his feet and seems to be readying himself to hurl another stone at the glass pane. Not wanting him to break something you quickly slide the window open further, leaning out and hissing in a quiet voice. “Julian, what are you doing?”

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Julian snaps to attention casually dropping a pebble from his hand as he peers up at you. A glazed expression on his face as he tilts his head up at you. “Why are you so small?” Confused you look at yourself and back to him. As you look at him for a long moment you can see the ruffled appearance of his clothes and hair, he seems to be missing a glove and his cloak from his usual attire. Which usually only meant one thing.

“Are you drunk?”

“No…” Julian leant back on his heels before, stumbling forward to counterbalance. He could make out the unconvinced look on your face and fumbled to correct himself. “Maybe a little. I wanted to see you, but you weren’t answering the door.”

“I was asleep,” you stated drawing back to look at your bed and the comfy blankets that awaited you, you look back to Julian as he scuffs his feet on the ground. “I thought I gave you a key…”

“I seem to have misplaced it,” you groan and wonder what he’s even doing out this late, Mazelinka’s house was much closer to the Rowdy Raven than the shop was. Pitifully sighing as if you had given him an order, you gape as Julian begins shuffling off. “I’ll go,” taking himself toward the street that definitely didn’t lead to Mazelinka’s house, you snap out of your confusion, almost yelling as you utter a hushed command for him to wait. Shaking your head as you rush down the stairs to the side door. Cracking it open you take a step back as Julian enters looking around like a little kid. Gasping a little as you look at his face.

 “Julian what happened to you?” He looks shocked as you cup his face in your hands, examining the large bruise over his visible eye. On his lower lip sits a small cut that also gains your attention as you glance over his face. “Your eye and your lip… Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Running a thumb over his lip you apologise as he hisses in pain, his hand grabbing your own. You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before you bite your lip and lean closer.

“Let me heal you-” You begin to summon magic to your fingers before Julian stops you, pulling away your hand from his face. He holds you firm as he looks into your eyes.

“They were insulting you,” Julian says, softly sweeping his eye down. “I couldn’t let them do that. Cowards.” The last word he practically spat out, frowning only to wince at the pain it brought to his blackened eye. You stay quiet for a moment before shaking your head ruefully and guiding him up the stairs to your bedroom. Sitting him down on the bed you pat his hand and go to close the window as Julian sits, staring at his feet.

 “They don’t even know you, not like I do.” Taking a seat next to Julian you lean against his shoulder and let out a long heavy sigh, rolling the hem of your shirt in between your fingers. Whatever they had said got him worked up, you could feel the tenseness of Julian’s body. Working your hands along his arm closest to you, you smooth out soft circles summoning a soothing aura and letting it roll over the two of you.

“I don’t care what people think of me Julian. They’re not worth a second of my time, but you’re worth every second of my time. That’s all that matters.” Julian’s eye searches your face, slowly you lift a hand to his face and take off the eye patch concealing his eye with the red sclera. Placing the eye patch to the side you stroke a finger over his cheek and down to his chin, pulling him close for a kiss.

 Closing his eyes and placing his lips against yours Julian winces at the burning sensation that cuts across his split lip, moaning all the same as you press against him. His mind floating as if on a lazy river he mumbles against your lips and gazes foolishly down at you.

“Y/N you are perfect,” Julian wraps his arms around you to pull you up onto the bed, laying you against his chest as the two of you rest in each other’s arms. Gazing at you Julian leans his head back against the pillows blinking his grey eyes sleepily. Laying against his chest you can’t help but smile and rest your head in the crook of his neck, the two of you breathing each other in. Despite being drunk Julian smells pleasantly like sea salt, and you close your eyes listening to the beating of his heart.

“You’re such a flatterer,” giggling you pull back slightly as Julian’s face rises to meet yours, kissing along your nose and then to your lips once more, whispering praises against your skin. You watch as his eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth my love.” You watch as his face melds into a picture of serenity as he drifts off to sleep, placing a kiss to his cheek you gently stroke his face and close your own eyes. Shaking your head and laughing to yourself

“How are you this smooth when you’re drunk?”

[leviathans-watching]

Sticks & Stones Chapter 4

A/N: Masterlist here for anyone who stumbled upon this, also yes I can tag you

*

Dinner was uneventful, if quiet. You avoided looking in Mammon's' direction, but it was obvious he wasn't his normal self. His sunglasses were pushed high up on his face hiding his eyes and you noted how his hair was more my-hands-have-been-running-through-it-messy than artfully styled.

The rest of the night was quiet as well, the brothers giving you a wide berth. You did your own thing, just reading and showering until it was late enough to go to bed.

That night, you tossed and turned, having messed up your sleep schedule by napping most of the day away with Belphie.

Thoughts were circling your head, stinging like bees. Well, maybe more like hornets, or yellow jackets, because some stung again and again.

You missed Mammon, and it had only been a day. it was instinct to turn to him and say something or text him about whatever.

And anyway, it was obvious he was suffering too. he definitely felt bad, which made you feel bad, but you couldn't just forgive him for spilling everything to everyone, could you?

But the brothers were being strangely sweet about it, trying in their own ways it seemed, to make you feel better. You appreciated their efforts and knew there was truth behind their words, but sometimes there didn't seem like there was.

Kicking off your covers, you sighed, opening your door and making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

It wasn't too late, so if you could go to sleep quickly, you might be able to salvage some sleep, you thought, draining the glass.

Making your way back to your room, you almost wished you ran into someone else, but ended up back in your dark room, alone.

Falling asleep eventually, you had a dreamless night.

* * *

The next morning, you pulled on your uniform, determined to act as normal as possible. You had to make up for the previous day, after all.

Making your way down to breakfast early, you stopped in the kitchen to see who was on cooking duty with you, you saw Satan's name on the roster on the fridge.

He would arrive eventually, so you started prep work, getting out the ingredients for pancakes, eggs, and bacon. None of the demons knew how to make a proper human breakfast, so you decided today was the day Satan was going to learn.

You had made it before, and for some reason, the boys thought it was super hard to make or something and were always very thankful when you did.

Humming to yourself, you turned to get milk from the fridge, jumping when you saw Satan standing in the doorway.

"Don't scare me like that," You called to him across the spacious kitchen, and he chuckled, pushing off the frame.

"Sorry."

He surveyed the counter where you had set everything.

"Are we making human food?"

You set the jug of milk on the counter. "If you're up to it, and want to learn."

He nodded, so you started the bacon, directing him on how to make the pancake batter. You knew he'd agree if you used the term 'learn', which is why you did.

To be honest, you didn't only want to make human food for the brothers, you wanted to eat something familiar and do something routine, as you had often made breakfast like this in the human realm.

It was funny, you thought, that the brothers referred to your return to the human realm as going home. Didn't they know this was home to you now, or at least it felt like it?

"What do I do now?" Satan asked, and you looked over to see the batter done.

"If you take the bacon for a sec." You handed him the tongs, "I'll get this set up. Careful, the oil burns. Flip it when it looks like that piece." You pointed to a strip of bacon that was ready to be flipped.

Grabbing another pan, you oiled it and poured in enough batter for the first pancake.

The next few minutes were spent between flipping pancakes and getting bacon out of the pan. You were lucky Satan was a quick study and a decent cook, otherwise, you'd have a few things burned.

Covering the plates of bacon and pancakes in paper towel, you moved the bacon pan to the back and turned off the heat on the old pancake one.

"Alright, can you get a bowl from the cupboard?" You asked Satan over your shoulder as you were grabbing the eggs and he complied, returning the counter with what you asked.

"What now?"

"Start cracking eggs into it," You directed as you started to put away the stuff you were done with and filling the sink with hot water.

Satan handed you the bowl of eggs and you whisked them, adding a dash of salt and pepper.

You showed him how to scramble them and as he was doing that you washed the mixing bowls and other tools, setting them in the drying rack.

The only thing left to do was the two pans after you had finished wiping down the counter, but the cleanup crew could take care of that.

Getting out plates and silverware for everyone, you set the table as Satan brought out the food. Everything was still warm, thanks to the hot plates, and you still had a few minutes before breakfast officially began.

Sitting at the table, you waited for more of the brothers to come down.

"Oh, MC," Satan said from across the table, and you looked up.

"I have to go into town to do some shopping later today. Want to come with me? We can get anything you need as well." He continued, and you nodded, shooting him a smile.

Satan wasn't the most welcoming of the demons but you found you spent quite a bit of time with him anyway. He often invited you along with him, whether it was to the library to town, or just to read or hang out in his room.

You thought he appreciated having someone quiet around, and you, he, and Asmo would sometimes do things together as you noticed they seemed close as well.

Looking up again you noticed him watching you.

"Spit it out," You told him, and he chuckled.

"Cutting right to the chase, huh?" His eyes flicked to yours and you nodded.

"I figure it's your turn to give me a big speech or whatever."

"I guess you're right." He tilted his head. "MC, you do remember I'm the avatar of wrath, right?"

Confused about where he was going with this, you nodded again.

"Well then you know I like to crush anything that gets in my way or brings me down." He paused and you weren't sure if he was asking a question or not.

"I guess," You finally decided on, and he seemed amused, dropping the eye contact he had with you and letting out a laugh.

"That includes myself. I don't know how it is for you, but I won't stand for weakness, and thoughts like "I'm not good enough" or whatever count as weakness to me." Satan rested his hands on the table. "Understand?"

You shrugged. "I could try that, but that's not really how it works for us not born out of pure spite and wrath," You joked, and he lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, if you feel that way, I don't mind stopping any insecurities for you," He offered, and before you could say anything, Lucifer, Levi, and Beel arrived, right on time.

"Awww yes! Human food! MC, you are the best!" Levi cried, sitting down next to you and getting his food.

"Aren't they?" Lucifer remarked dryly, and you rolled your eyes as Asmo came in.

"Who's the best? Surely me, right? MC, we still on for Saturday night?"

"Yep," You said as he sat next to you, putting some pancakes on your plate.

You were grateful everyone was being so normal around you, but after all, Mammon hadn't arrived yet.

Belphie came, but still no Mammon, which was odd. Usually, Belphie was the last down.

Knowing Mammon especially appreciated your cooking you set some aside for him, not willing to be mean even if you were upset at him.

"I'm going to run this upstairs to Mammon," You told Asmo, gesturing to the plate, "But then we can go."

Asmo took the plate gently from you, patting you on the arm. "Let me do it, okay?"

You agreed, and he disappeared up the stairs as you watched, your chest squeezing.

Tags: @nimeryaa​ @crispyarttravelhumanoid​

Chapter One

Chapter five

Masterlist

[nad-zeta]

heya! i saw your headcanons with a non-drinker MC and it was really cute! however, if I may, could i please ask for headcanons of a heavily drinking mc (not an alcoholic but just down to get LIT and maybe sometimes can like pass out on the occasional time bahaha) for the ikesen warlords, i don't really mind which warlords but I'd really appreciate it if sasuke was there!! love your work!!❣️

(ღ˘⌣˘ღ) Hi, there love! Awww thanks so much, I’m glad you have been enjoying my work and thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! 🥰

Drunk Mc Headcanon feat Sasuke, Hideyoshi, Mitsuhide and Yukimura 

Sasuke

“Hey why do you never drink with us at banquets?”

“Because, Sasuke when I drink, Patricia comes out, and no one wants that to happen.” ლ,ᔑ•ﺪ͟͠•ᔐ.ლ

“Patricia?” ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

“Yeah apparently that’s the name I give myself when I’m drunk, plus when she comes out, I have a tendency to do stupid, embarrassing shit.”  

For example one night Patritia thought it would be a good idea to climb up out universities roof at three in the moring, well long story short i fell and broke my leg so..... Patritia aint the best of influences (ㆆᴗㆆ)

Fast forward 2 hours…… and 10 drinks later

Sasuke and Yuki were watching you traumatise Kenshin （・Ａ・）

“Wow your cape is so soft and fluffy I freaken love it!” (◕‿◕✿)

“Hey Kenshin, Hey Kenshin is that why bunnies follow you cause you are so cute and fluffy.” (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Cue Sasuke stepping in and saving his lord from you chatting his ears off and stroking the fur on his fluffy cape ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Kenshin honestly looks like a deer in headlights “I am not cute and fluffy.”

(つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡

“Hey Sasuke lets play ninja ninja” (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

The two of you start throwing each other with ninja stars

“wow that one almost hit me in the face..... nice” ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ

“OMW, I have the best idea.” (¬‿¬)

Sasuke looks you in the eyes and the two of you yell out at the same time “Parkour!” (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

Cue you and Sasuke jumping on tables, rolling on the floor, and swinging on the doorways 🏃

“Hey dummies stop that, you are going to hurt yourselves!”  (≖͞_≖̥)

Just as Yuki captured the two of you drunks in a headlock before you hurt each other or yourselves, Sasuke gives you a nod and you start tickling Yuki.” 

Once both of you are freed you run hand in hand with the friendly neighbourhood ninja to the garden | (• ◡•)| (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

The two of you stood on opposite sides of the garden and started singing Sweet Caroline

“Hands, Touching hands.”

“Reaching out.”

“Touching me.”

“Touching you.”

“Sweet Caroline, Bum bum bum.”

When the two of you are drunk any idea is a good idea, and at that moment slashing around in the fountain seemed like the best idea in the world

Cue both of you splashing and playing in the fountain

After a while the two of you got tired and decided to lay on the grass together and look up at the stars

You looked at you wrinkly fingers “Hey, Sasuke I have a super serious question.” (▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

“How come only your fingers and toes get wrinkly in the shower, and nothing else does?” ⚆ _ ⚆

Cue the two of you breaking out in laughter but then eventually passing out  (/◕ヮ◕)/

Cue poor Yuki finding his two soaking wet drunk friends finally tired out on the grass

“Geeeez, when did I become the mom friend of the group.” (；一_一)

Yukimura

You and Yuki loved to compete with each other and out drinking each other at banquets was no exception

“I bet I could beat you in an arm-wrestling match.” ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

“Oi dummy, I am like twice your size there is nooo way you would win.”

You beat him ｡◕‿◕｡

“Best out of three.” (；一_一)

You beat him again (◕‿◕✿)

Sasuke laughing in the background cause he knew you were cheating

Yuki puts you into a headlock and starts giving you a noogie 

This turns into a full-blown wrestling match- “Hey dummy didn’t your mom ever teach you how to act like a lady.” ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

Before Yukimura can sulk about his defeat you are already pulling him up and dragging him to the dance floor

“Let’s dance.” (~˘▾˘)~

You break out in laughter at Yuki’s, awkward, clumsy movements, not that yours are any better 

Yuki can’t help but laugh at your robot dance  (≧∇≦)

At some point in the evening the two of you discuss the best prank to pull on Kenshin (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

That’s when Sasuke steps up to the plate to become the mom friend, I think its time to cut the two of you off ಠ_ಠ

“I’m not drunk MC, you’re drunk!!!!” (☞ຈل͜ຈ)☞

Cue you hopping on one leg in a circle

“See would a drunk person be able to do this.” 

“That's exactly what a drunk person would do” ╚(ಠ_ಠ)=┐

You and Yuki high five and then head to where the band is playing

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking” you ask Yuki with the biggest brightest smile before exclaiming in union “Karaoke.” ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

The two of you sing and dance the night away ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

Eventually the two of you passed out, Sasuke being the mom friend simply took a blankie and threw it over the two of you and left you in the banquet hall ರ_ರ

Mitsuhide

The night started off super quiet with you and Mitsu sitting together and sipping on your drinks (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

Mitsu soon came to discover you were quite the rowdy troublesome drunk

(▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

He smiled, as during your card game with him, you would start randomly singing, to throw him off his game  ヽ(^。^)ノ

You also became x2 as dramatic (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *

Your usual sore loser self couldn’t handle losing another card game

(ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

As the night progressed you got up to go dance with Masamune

Mitus kept a very very close eye on his little mouse  ⚆ _ ⚆

At some point in the night he lost track of you

He finally spotted you playing go with Nobunaga (ʘ‿ʘ)

He started getting super jelly ಠ~ಠ

He neared you and his lord and his eyes widened, the two of you were playing strip go (◯Δ◯∥)

“I think its time to cut you off little mouse.”  (ﾟωﾟ;)

“No Mitsu I’m a strong independent woman” ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

“Dearest me, It seems I will just have to join in and win.”

The three of you play strip go until Nobunaga passes out with nothing but his underwear on, Mitsu breathed a sigh of relief this game was really getting out of hand (´ε｀；)

Mitsu was the only one who still had all of his clothes on, and luckily for you, nothing too vital has been taken off

“It would seem little mouse that we are the only two left, shall we continue this strange game back home?” (｡◕‿◕｡)

Before you could even respond, he effortlessly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

“Miiitsuuuuu lemi dowwwwwwn.” ⊙０⊙

“We are almost home my feisty little mouse”, Mitsuhide can’t help but chuckle and shake his head at his drunk troublesome little mouse

Mitsuhide narrowed his eyes you have been quiet for way too long, “Seems like you finally tired yourself out little one.” 

He tucks you into bed and quickly changes into his sleepwear, by the time he gets back to the futon, he sees you sprawled out over the whole futon happily snoring away. (✿◠‿◠)

The next morning you wake up with a splitting headache, “uuuuugghhh what happened last night.”

Mitsu couldn’t help but give you his classic sneki smile while replaying the events of the night for you in great detail. (◡‿◡✿)

“uuuuuuhggggg I cant believe I played strip go with the great Nobunaga.”

(*ノ_<*)

Mitsuhide couldn’t help but chuckle at his little mouse now profusely blushing and hiding her face in the pillow (/ω＼)

“I’m never drinking again”, you tell yourself the lie everyone tells themselves after a fun drunken adventure (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

Hideyoshi

You had a good buzz going, Nobunga had brought some fancy alcohol back from his trip to the Portuguese traders

You weren’t interested at first, until u smelt what it was

Tequila! (★^O^★)

Man you freaken loved that stuff, just one sip was enough to bring back countless memories of you and your gal pals, hitting the clubs, and having a good time ٩(●ᴗ●)۶

You and Nobunaga were doing shot after shot (´・ω・)っ由

Finally, the two of you had convinced Hideyoshi to join, you handed him the shot of tequila and some lemon and salt, and before you knew it both of you had a good buzz going

You felt like dancing so you dragged Hideyoshi closer to the band so you could dance your heart out ┌(☆o★)┘

Honestly, you were starting to feel hot in you fancy princess kimono, so you did what anyone would do 

You took that shit off ❁◕ ‿ ◕❁

“Oi, what do you think you are doing”

(◯Δ◯∥)

(ﾟдﾟ；)

Hideyoshi was now blushing profusely trying to convince you to put the layers of clothing back on, you were now only wearing the last layer of clothing, and it was legit showing off your every curve (*ﾟｰﾟ)ゞ

“Hey look, Hideyoshi, Mitsunari is trying to make tea.” (☞◑ω◑)☞

As he turned his head to look you, snuck away ｢(⑅◔ω◔「)三

You were now dancing on the table without a care in the world 

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

Well to be fair at this point it wasn’t really dancing anymore, more like some weird zig-zag dance

You lost footing and before you knew it you were falling down

_(:3」∠)_

You braced yourself to hit the ground but the fall never came

You opened your eyes and saw two very worried hazel eyes staring back at you (ㅇㅅㅇ❀)

“Okay, young lady I think thats enough alcohol and dancing for one night.”

⚆ᗝ⚆

You and Hideyoshi had fallen in love but were still in the brother-sister zone

“Your not my dad, so don’t tell me what to do.” （￣ε￣）

“No I am not, but I am your brother and I am cutting you off.” 눈_눈

“I don’t want to be your sister anymore you stupid monkey, can’t you see that I love you as more than just a brother.”  ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Hideyoshi was shook….. did you just say that you loved him (◎_◎;)

He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sudden love confession, but he found himself leaning in for a kiss ლ(・﹏・ლ)

The next morning a very naked you, woke up with a hella headache

You heard a small snore next to you and turned around slowly only to find a Hideyoshi by your side ゞ◎Д◎ヾ

That’s when you felt a warm arm around your waist pulling you closer so that you were now flush against him (◠‿◠✿)

Your eyes widened as you lifted the cover slightly to see that you were not the only one who was naked (⊙＿⊙)

Needless to say the two of you were most definitely not brother and sister anymore (¬‿¬)

Hope you enjoyed it, love! <3<3<3❤🔥

[jokertrap-ran]

[Stand My Heroes] 挽夏のミステリーブライド (Late summer Mystery Bride) Event Story: Part ② Translations

*Sutamai Master-list *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei *Scenario Writer: @eno_bara (榎戸乃ばら) 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Special Stages

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Whoa…This is amazing. It’s really a Castle!

???: (――This girl! …Kiyo-san!?)

???: (…No, but that’s impossible!)

???: (Upon closer inspection, isn’t her face and body way thinner than Kiyo-san’s?)

???: (--But her aura does resemble her a little, somehow…)

Hinata: The air in here’s really cool.

???: (--What!? She’s bringing in one guy after another trailing after her!?)

Miyase: Ohh, so that’s why it feels as cool as a cooler in here!

???: (This man…the aura he gives off resembles that of a servant calling from the Kurodas, a family who I didn’t like even within our Social Circles.)

???: (They look as if they aren’t capable of hurting even a fly on the outside, but I hear that they’d do all sort of things in the shadows to protect their properties…)

Kirishima: …………

???: (…Hm?)

Kirishima: …………

???: (W-What’s with this guy with his odd hair colouring!?)

???: (Actually, is he— Is he looking at me?)

Miyase: …Kirishima-san? What’s wrong?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Kirishima: …………

???: (…………)

Miyase: …Kirishima-san? What’s wrong?

Kirishima: Huh?

Miyase: You must be tired from driving. I apologise for leaving the wheel to you.

Kirishima: No, I’m not the least bit tired at all. Plus, I love driving!

???: (Am I just mistaken? Well, I suppose that there are always people out there with sharp senses.)

???: (So it’s not all that odd for there to be someone who can see me or feel my presence…)

Kujo: Don’t you all want to know more about this Castle before you wander off exploring?

???: (Hah? What would you know about me?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Kujo: His parents died early-on in his life and it seems like he, himself, died young, having taken his own life.

???: (Hey, hey…That’s really personal information right off the bat!)

Kirishima: …Did he die in this room?

???: (——！)

Kujo: How’d you guess that?

Kirishima: No, I just…had a feeling.

???: (I knew it. This guy…he can sense my presence!)

Kirishima: Please continue; tell us more.

Kujo: Apparently, the only thing he had written in his Suicide Note was “I’m bored”.

???: (It was something I wrote on a whim. But…it’s true.)

Kujo: For it he already had someone he had been enraptured with.

Shindo: But he had to let go of her— Was she the Wife of another?

???: (Urk! How dare you rub salt onto my wound like that!!)

Hinata: The person that held his interests might be the girl reflected in this Photo Album here.

???: (Wha-!? Hey, hands off! Don’t go casually opening my Kiyo-san Collection!!)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Miyase: Wow, she’s pretty dazzling.

Kujo: She bears some resemblance to you.

???: (I know, right!?)

???: (--Wait, no! Now’s not the time for this! Don’t defile another’s treasure any further-!)

Shindo: It’s a little ironic that someone wealthy enough to own a Castle like this has to lower themselves down to the likes of a stalker who stockpiles photos of his target.

???: (Don’t defile it anymore!!)

Rei: Eek!

Kirishima: Rei!?

???: (Oh no! Kiyo-san- No, I’ve hurt her doppleganger!)

Rei: I’m fine.

???: (Thank goodness…)

Rei: Rather than that, what just happened just now?

Hinata: The Teacup moved on its own accord…?

???: (I unconsciously lost control of my emotions, but this works out just as well. I’ll chase these rude people out of here!)

???: (Maybe I should drop a tome or two?)

Rei: Eek-!!

Kaname: After the Teacup comes a book this time…?

Kujo: What’s going on in here?

???: (It was I who did it!)

Shindo: Perhaps it was due to the fault of the Construction Workers. The shelves could have been compromised by the renovations.

???: (I said I’m the one who did it!)

Kirishima: …………

Miyase: Anyway, wouldn’t it be better for you to change out of that, Rei-san?

Rei: Oh, right! I’ve brought a spare set of clothes, so I’ll just pop into the rooms to change.

???: (No, leave already…!)

Kujo: How about changing into an outfit fitting for a place like this if you’re going to have to change anyway?

Rei: Huh?

Kujo: I do think that it’s best to enjoy a trip to it’s fullest, no matter what twist and turns there may be along the way.

???: (Hah…!?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: (I’ve ended up dressing in something pretty cute…)

Sliding my arms into the sleeves of a dress decorated with lace and ribbons with a retro-feel to it, I headed back out into the corridor.

Rei: (It feels as if I’m fitting right into the atmosphere of this castle, just by walking a little in this. I think I’m starting to feel it!)

Rei: (…Still, why did the Teacup move all of a sudden?)

???: --Oo? Now, doesn’t that suit you quite well?

Rei: What?

I turned around. Standing there was none other than—

Rei: Oh! Shindo-san! You changed too? That really suits you!

Shindo: You didn’t pin up your hair? There’s an accompanying flower peony pin to go along with this outfit, isn’t there?

Rei: Yes; there was one, but…I don’t know how to put it on. Wait, actually, how did you know?

Shindo: Because both that dress and the flower pin were both bought for her.

Rei: Her?

Shindo: …Although I didn’t manage to give them to her in the end.

Rei: Shindo-san?

Shindo: ……

Rei: ???

Shindo: --You do look alike afterall.

Rei: Huh? To whom?

Shindo: …………

Rei: (He seems to be acting a little odd…)

Shindo: …Let us proceed. I shall escort you back to the Study.

He extended out a hand in my direction, surprising me, for I never thought that he’d actually do something like that.

Rei: (Is he also trying to enjoy this entire experience too since it’s what’s “Happening” now?)

Rei: (Whatever the reason may be, it won’t do for me to turn down his kindness now that he has extended it.)

Rei: Thank you. Then, if you’d please.

Shindo: Your hand, if I may?

Rei: Okay.

Rei: (Eek……!)

I unwittingly flinched at the icy coldness of his skin as my fingers brushed against his. It caught me by surprise.

Shindo: What?

Rei: N-Nothing! I’ll be in your care!

I took his hand, as cold as ice, as we started walking.

Rei: (…Maybe the air-conditioning’s temperature was set too low?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Rei: I’ve returned. Sorry for making you all wait.

Kirishima: Oohh! You look real nice in that!

Kujo: It suits you really well.

Miyase: Truly. You do look utterly magnificent in a dress.

Hinata: …Cute.

Rei: !

Kaname: You really do say things like that as if it’s as natural as breathing.

Hinata: But you think so too, don’t you, Kana?

Kaname: Not really.

Kaname adverted his eyes from both Shion and I, decidedly lifting the teacup to his mouth.

Hinata: Are you hiding your mouth from sight because you just told a lie?

Kaname: Can you please not attach a reason to the actions of another as you please?

Hinata: You’re cute too, Kana. Just like Rei-san in a dress.

Kaname: Haa…Enough of that already.

Rei: Ahaha. It’s a little embarrassing, but I’ll take those words of praise in stride. Thank you.

Shindo: I don’t really care, but did you really lug that dress all that way here from the corridors?

Rei: !!

Shindo: ……? What? Don’t go making a face as if you’ve just seen a ghost.

Rei: S-Shindo-san?

Shindo: Do I look like someone else to you?

My breath hitched in my throat as I spun around to look behind me. Shindo should have been right behind me, having entered the room after he has escorted me here and opened the door for me.

Rei: …But he’s, not…

Shindo: Hey…?

Kaname: What’s wrong, big sis?

Rei: I came back here with Shindo-san, but…

Shindo: What?

Kirishima: He’s been here all this time, though.

Rei: He’s been here all along…?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Goosebumps started to form on my skin. And I recalled how icy Shindo’s fingers had felt against my touch.

Rei: But I’m certain that I came back here together with Shindo-san and he had changed into another outfit as well…

Shindo: Did the heat get to you?

Kaname: I don’t think Kiyoshi-san would change outfits unless there’s a good reason for it.

Rei: (Come to think of it…)

I did think that he was “acting different from usual”.

Rei: (But then, that means that the person earlier was…)

Rei: A-Ahaha! Please don’t pull my leg like this, guys. I don’t like being scared like that.

Miyase: He’s really been here all along.

Kujo: I swear we’ve not schemed anything along the lines of remotely scaring you…

My nervous laugh quite literally froze on my face.

Rei: Then…Who was the Shindo-san who came here with me?

Kujo & Miyase: ……

Hinata & Kaname: ……

Kirishima: …………

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

???: (It’s the first time I’ve assimilated the form of another, but now I see…)

???: (I couldn’t move the body as freely as I’d like when I escorted her, and my head was reverberating with a voice, buzzing around saying “money”.)

???: (Which means that there’s conflict between my will and the will of the person whose body I’ve assimilated since our thoughts and actions clash.)

???: But now I know, since I’ve gotten up-close to her. She’s…She really does resemble Kiyo-san.

???: …More, I wish to keep her by me.

???: I wish to know more about that girl.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Then…Who was the Shindo-san who came here with me?

A heavy silence fell upon all of us as neither of us could come up with anything. –Just then, A sudden ringing sound pierced through the deathly silence.

Miyase: Is that someone’s phone?

Kirishima: Not mine.

Kaname: Not mine either.

Rei: Sorry…! It’s mine.

Checking my phone, I saw the Caller ID of “Yui Kotaro” flashing across it.

Rei: I’ll go pick it up. It might be a work-related call.

I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Kirishima: Rei, wait a minu-

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: (--Eh.)

I had only taken a single step outside. And I could see that night had already fallen from the corridors. The sound of the door shutting behind me echoed, but the sound of an incoming call had somehow died somewhere along the way.

I gulped and whirled around to re-open the door that I had just closed.

Rei: (It’s not opening! Why is it not opening…!?)

It didn’t budge an inch, no matter how much I pushed or pulled at it.

Rei: What’s going on…?

Rei: --Right, the phone call!

Rei: Yui-san…

I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the call connecting. It was almost as if it was my one connection to reality.

Yui: “—Izumi?”

Rei: (Thank the gods that he picked up…!)

Rei: Sorry for the sudden call, Yui-san! But I think I’m starting to hallucinate…

Yui: “You’re hallucinating…?”

Rei: Exactly! Like how I thought that I had been together with Shindo-san and how it’s suddenly night outside the moment I stepped out of the room and-!

Yui: “Calm down, Izumi…and……so,”

Rei: Yui-san?

Yui: “…Therefore………nd……ah…”

Rei: Um, you’re actually cutting off-

The line went flat with a beep.

Rei: ――!

I went into my contacts list and attempted to dial him again. What I heard on the other end of the line was-

“The phone number you’re dialling at this current moment in time is not in use”.

Rei: How is this possible!?

???: Izumi, don’t fear.

Rei: Eek…!

The voice that called out from behind sounded eerily familiar. Heart in my throat, I fearfully turned around…

Rei: Y-Yui-san…?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: (What’s Yui-san doing here? And dressed like that too…)

Yui: Izumi, I can’t stop myself from wishing to know more about you.

Saying as such, Yui(?) stepped a foot forwards and I, in turn, took a step backwards. My back met the door with an audible thud. He placed a hand on the side of my face, as if trying to ground my vision as my eyes darted left and right, seeking an escape path.

Rei: ……!

Yui: Tell me all about yourself.

Yui: Because for all sakes and purposes, I…

Yui: Because…I…

Yui: Ngh…

Rei: Yui…-san?

Yui: Ugh…Urk…Ngh—What’s with this guy’s mental state!?

Rei: Wha?

Yui: T-THIS GUY! HE WANTS TO KNOW YOUR BLOOD TYPE, HE WANT YOUR HAIR, YOUR CELLS, AMONG MANY OTHERS! HE’S TWISTED!!

Rei: Umm…?

Yui: Ugh…his thoughts are deafening!

Yui: The will of a living person is this strong!? All I want to do is to borrow this vessel for a little while!

Rei: Yui-san…?

Yui: Back up for a moment! This guy won’t work!

His pink hair wavered and then-- He disappeared from my sight in the blink of an eye; not a trace of him to be found.

Rei: ……Wha- what??

Rei: (This must be……a dream. I’m dreaming!)

Rei: (Maybe I collapsed the moment I exited the room back in the waking world?)

I pinched my arm, hard, to confirm my suspicions.

Rei: --Why? It hurts…

The ill-sinking feeling returned to my gut once more in full force as I heard a voice coming from the other side of the door that I had my back to.

???: Izumi-san? I wish to open these doors. May I?

Rei: (That’s Miyase-san’s voice!?)

Rei: F-Feel free!

I stepped backwards, putting enough space between myself and the door so that the door could open without issues. The heavy wooden doors creaked open slowly, revealing—

Miyase: Oh, I apologize. Please don’t look so frightened.

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

[walkerismychoice]

It’s Complicated (Raleigh X MC, Avery X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: Raleigh X MC, Avery X MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2211

Note: This was supposed to be mainly a Raleigh X MC fic and not a love triangle type thing, but Raleigh made MC mad enough that it turned into a Avery X MC fic also. It was inspired by me choosing to do Avery’s scene after Raleigh’s in the last chapter, and this idea is what followed. Much of the dialogue come from chapter 9, but I changed some up and added some for the purposes of fitting this fic.

Summary:  Raleigh gets really drunk at Aria’s album release party and she is not happy. Avery is in the right place at the right time, providing comfort and a needed distraction. Then things get complicated.

Aria licks the salt from Raleigh’s abs, downs her tequila shot, and gently pulls the lime out of his mouth between her teeth. 

“Woohoo! We did it!” She tosses the lime on the bar and coaxes Raleigh upright on the bartop to kiss him softly on the mouth. She can feel him smile against her lips, taste the tart lime that still lingers on his.

Raleigh pulls back with a smirk. “I’d gladly do this over body shots.”

“I never said you could skip your turn.”

“Is that so?”

As hot as it would be to watch him drag his tongue seductively across her skin, in her mouth is a much preferred place for it to be. Aria wraps her legs around his waist, twining her fingers through his hair. The feel of his bare chest against her lights up every bit of her exposed skin.

“Aria...” Raleigh breathes against her mouth.

Their lips just barely meet again before they are jolted a part by a laugh somewhere in the crowd.

Aria blushes as she puts herself back together. “I guess we are in a... very public place. And I’m the host no less.”

“Well, at least Fiona can’t fault us for not being in character.”

“Oh, right...” Dammit, she feels like such a fool. Putting on a PR show was the furthest thing from her mind, but apparently not his. “Yeah, we’re great actors.” She hopes the disappointment isn’t evident in her voice.

“Right...” Raleigh draws out the word, like he’s not quite believing her, or himself. Aria doesn’t really know. She never knows with him. Raleigh hops down from the bar and puts his clothes back on, promptly pouring himself another drink. It’s not like she hasn’t overindulged a tad in celebration this evening, but she’s still got her wits about her. Raleigh on the other hand is stumbling around and slurring his words like a drunken mess.

The more she thinks about it, the more her blood starts to boil. Although he never fails to remind her they are in a fake relationship, his actions, and little things he lets slip start to make her get hopes up and believe otherwise. But then he does shit like this. This is her big day, her first album release party. If he was supportive of her, if he really cared, he wouldn’t be getting so wasted with his “friends” or whoever they are. He'd be at her side. She’s got to keep reminding herself though that they aren’t a real couple, and she has no right to be mad. She’s not legitimate claim on him.

Aria takes a deep breath and plasters a fake smile on her face for appearances sake. “Raleigh Carrera, I think this is the drunkest I’ve ever seen you. Maybe I can get you to spill all your dark secrets."

“Just one problem...” Raleigh speaks slowly, stumbling over his words. “I don’t have any secrets. I’m an open book.”

“Is that right?” Aria shoot back.

“Go ahead, ask me anything.” He challenges.

Do you have any real feelings for me at all? If she were braver that’s what she’d ask but this is not the time nor the place. However, maybe she can get there in a roundabout way. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Wow, right to the hard-hitting questions, Aria?”  Raleigh shakes his head and chuckles. “Truly? I don’t know. But I will say... You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

"Well...” What did she expect? For him to say he was falling in love with her? But coming from him this might be the closest admission she'll get that there's something there. "...I'm flattered."

"It's like every song I've ever written was about you, and I just didn't know it yet." Raleigh blinks and stares off, his eyes almost glazed over.

Aria's jaw drops. "Raleigh, are you okay?" Does he even know what he's saying right now?

Raleigh shakes himself out of it and it's like he just woke up from a trance. "You should see the look on your face right now, I totally got you."

Got her how? Was he bullshitting her with the line about the songs? Does he even remember he said it? "But you said--"

Raleigh looks like a deer in headlights. "I ah... I need some air. Later."

Aria stands, dumbfounded, at the bar watching Raleigh walk away. Part of her knows with as drunk as he is, it's pointless to make anything of it, but another part of her thinks his ramblings are an indication of his true feelings, and he doesn't know how to handle them. Whatever the case, his actions have proven cowardly and immature, and she's so over it. Maybe it's time to talk to Fiona about orchestrating a PR relationship breakup.

Aria storms off, she's not even sure where, when she nearly runs right into Avery.

"Oh! Hi, Avery."

Avery's gaze travels up and down Aria's body. "Aria, you look breathtakingly beautiful, it should be illegal."

She's so not in the mood, and if it were anyone else it would come off as some cheesy pickup line, but Avery can't seem to be anything but sweet. "Thank you, Avery." Aria smiles weekly.

Avery picks up on the mood Aria's not hiding as well as she thought. "You seem like you could use a breather. I'd love a chance to get to show you my favorite balcony in the city. Seems like a beautiful night tonight"

Aria doesn't want to give him the wrong idea, but Avery has been a great friend and mentor through it all, and stepping outside with him would be go a long way in calming her down.

"That sounds lovely."

A light breeze hits Aria's face as she steps out on the balcony, the temperature quite a bit cooler and more comfortable than the hot, stuffy air inside the venue. The bustling sounds of the city below are present but muted from this high up, and the lights provide a perfect glow. She immediately feels much more grounded.

Avery leans against the balcony rail. "So what do you think of your first album release party?"

"It's been fun, but insane." Aria admits. "I've been pulled in so many directions, I haven't been able to catch my breath all night."

"I know. I've missed you, but you're doing a great job at playing host."

"Yeah..." Aria's thoughts circle back to Raleigh, so she changes the focus to put him out of her mind. They discuss the nwq song Avery's been working on in the studio and what's next for both of them.

During a comfortable lull in the conversation, Avery takes a step back and puts his thumbs and forefingers together in the shape of a frame pointed right at her.

"What are you doing?" Aria chuckles.

"Taking a mental picture of you right now." Avery snap his fingers like he's mimicking a flash, and Aria doesn't even know how this is her real life. Just months ago she encountered Avery at the smoothie shop, starstruck and unable to articulate any intelligible thoughts, and now here he is admiring her, wanting to commit this moment to memory. "I know they say a picture's worth a thousand words, but this one is leaving me speechless."

There he goes again with a line that if delivered by anyone else would make her roll her eyes, but she starts to feel flushed. "Avery Wilshire, that was some blatant flirting!"

Avery smiles coyly. "You haven't seemed to be taking my subtle hints, so I thought I'd try a more direct approach."

"Avery..." The truth is, since the moment she met Raleigh, she's been so hung up on him, nobody else mattered. Avery is sweet and wonderful, but once she had gotten to know him, she never pictured him moving out of the friendzone. Raleigh is sparks and fireworks, volatile and electrifying, igniting a passion in Aria. Avery's a warm blanket, comfortable, familiar and reliable, but nothing to get excited about. That is until one realizes that maybe they value the comfort and stability over the excitement and uncertainty. Maybe it's the alcohol mixed with the atmosphere, or maybe she's just that pissed at Raleigh, but she's beginning to see Avery in a new light.

Avery leans in and takes Aria’s hand in his. “Here we are, just a few months away from where we were. You’ve dropped an album and are climbing the charts...”

Reminded of how fast things are happening, some doubts start to creep in. As much as she wants to get him out of her mind, she thinks about young teenage Raleigh who was plucked from obscurity and became a star overnight. Everything he’s been through, everything he’s done, he’s probably so far removed from the boy that he was. 

“Avery, do you think I’ve changed?”

“Of course. But who says that’s a bad thing? I’m different now from who I woke up as this very morning. All you’ve been through in New York these past few months... It’s only made you stronger.”

“You really think so?”

Avery gives Aria’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know so. This is what you were built for. Looking at you now, thinking of the girl I saw mopping the floor of Smoothie Star to music, stars in her eyes... I’ve never been more proud. And I’m so excited to see where you’re going to go next.

Something passes between them. The way Avery is looking at her, the way he actually sees her, makes her feel like she deserves to feel. There’s no games, no mixed messages. It’s clear that if she wants him, he’s hers for the taking, so in this moment she does. Aria cradles his face in her hands and moves in for a kiss. Avery reciprocates immediately, slow but determined, like he’s savoring every moment. Aria’s hands slide under his jacket, feeling the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his dress shirt.

Avery pulls back with a smirk. “We’d best be careful. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch you cheating on your monogamous tabloid relationship.”

“That’s okay. No one can see us out here, anyway. We’re pretty secluded, and everyone’s inside.” And Raleigh’s being an asshole, so right now Aria wouldn’t care if anyone did see.

“Mmm. And thank god for that.” Avery loops his arms around Aria’s waist and pulls her in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time. 

In his embrace she feels safe and secure, yet so free at the same time. If she could stop time, she would, right here and now. When they finally pull apart, neither can stop smiling.

“I’m so glad you came came out here to join me. Sometimes, it's good to be still. And enjoy the view.” Avery grins and kisses her on the cheek one last time. “Now we should probably get you back inside.”

~~~

Aria wakes up at a reasonable hour, well, before noon at least, and thankfully she’s not the least bit hungover.

“What the-” She checks her phone and sees several text messages and missed calls. A message from Raleigh is the last to pop up, so she opens it first.

Raleigh: Care to explain this?

Oh shit. There’s a screenshot of a headline from Page Six: Is Aria Campbell cheating on Raleigh Carrera with Avery Wilshire? Underneath the headline is a picture of her and Avery facing one another with his arms around her. It’s not easy to make out who it is, but it’s definitely them. They aren’t kissing, but close to it, and she can only hope it was snapped after they had pulled apart so there’s nothing more incriminating out there.

She’s panicking a bit, but she’s still mad as hell at Raleigh, so she composes a text back.

Aria: Why do I owe you any explanation? You are just my fake boyfriend, remember? Why should it bother you? It’s just more publicity for the both of us.

Raleigh: It does bother me

Aria: And why is that? 

Is he jealous because he’s actually into her, or does he just think it looks bad that God’s gift to women, Raleigh Carrera, got cheated on? She stares at her phone for a few minutes before finally getting a reply.

Raleigh: It’s complicated.

“Aagghhhhh!” She screams loud enough her neighbor’s might worry. He’s right, this whole fucking thing is complicated and she doesn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Then her phone rings, and its Raleigh, and she’s just not ready to talk to him right now. She’s in no mood to deal with interpreting the hidden meaning behind his words. She lets it go to voicemail, when another text pops up. Thinking it’s Raleigh again, she’s about to chuck her phone across the room, but it turns out to be Avery this time.

Avery: I had a really nice time with you last night. Would you like to grab dinner sometime soon? I’m free tonight if you are.

Oh, god. Avery definitely has somehow escaped finding out about their “cheating” scandal. She’s not ready for that conversation either. Aria shuts her phone off and gets back into bed. She’s not talking to anyone until she feels like it.

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 7

• More YEEHAW with a dash of bachelorette action, a sprinkle of rollin'-in-the-hay (literally) and one big dollop of "oh we're poor" to set up for next week's chapter.

• Screenshot credits:

Hana: @pixieferry

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and BizzysChoices YouTube channel (@thefirstcourtesan also sent screenshots for Penelope's dancing scene from her Liam MC playthrough).

Maxwell: @thethots-plicken

• These are the tags you can block if you don’t want to see these posts: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs.

• This is the only chapter that could potentially have no men in it, and you deliberately force the focus away from Hana? Now if that doesn't sound like the TRR writing team then I don't know what does.

• Why is Madeleine here? Go climb a pine tree in Fydelia or something.

• If you're going to give Drake a whole extended family, PB, at least get the family straight? Who is Leona, is she Bianca's sister? Jackson's sister? WHOSE SISTER IS SHE.

• Title: A Night Out In the Town

Alternative Title: The Mandatory Annual Courtly Maidens Meetup

Alternative to the Alternative Title: Hana Lee and the Audacity of this Bitch

(you know which one)

• This chapter works mostly for the nostalgia factor. There's plenty of it in these scenes.

• Bachelor parties and bachelorettes have pretty much been a long-standing tradition in TRR - there's always going to be that one chapter where someone gets a sendoff via a wild party (exactly how wild really depends on whoever is throwing it). The MC meets most of the original gang (except Hana) at Liam's bachelor party, and there have been at least 5 bachelor/bachelorette parties in the series so far (counting this one). I won't be surprised if they gave Penelope a dude in TRR Book 3 just for the express purpose of having another excuse to have another bachelorette party next book.

• The one really good thing about this chapter? It's that Hana will not stand for any nonsense from Madeleine:

She's not going to pretend Madeleine deserves to hold any space among her circle of friends, or even of acquaintances. She's not going to allow Madeleine to get away with not following the rules of an event she's planned, not when Madeleine failed to show the same courtesy to women in her court. If Madeleine insists on badgering the MC about her 'pregnancy', Hana is here to defend you. The message is loud and clear. This is Hana Lee's show, she is running it, and if you can't listen to what she says you can fall on a cactus.

• I only wish we were able to give her the kind of loyalty and protection from Madeleine, that Hana deserved. She did not deserve for us to allow the bullying done to her, to be brushed aside as a hazing ritual. Hell, even while knowing what Madeleine did to her, we didn't even get to check up on her.

Hana did not deserve for us to pretend that never happened to her, and she definitely did not deserve to have her own pain be treated over and over in the narrative like it didn't matter. Even now, her no-nonsense behaviour is rooted firmly in her concern for other people, like the MC and Savannah. Why can't the team ever allow Hana to do this for herself? Why can't the other characters ever step in to defend her the same way? Why am I allowed to (optionally) coddle Penelope twice in today's chapter in a way I never can for Hana?? Why should Hana always be the one protecting but hardly ever the one protected??

• So the ladies of the court have arrived, leaving a puzzled Bianca and a perpetually pissed-off Leona in their wake. Hana explains the situation: she invited Kiara, Olivia and Penelope along. Madeleine invited herself for the sole purpose of being nosy.

• ...in what universe is Madeleine a "public relations angel". Have you SEEN how badly you did your own job the last book??

• Olivia and Madeleine can't last two minutes without sniping at each other and this makes Savannah sad (not that they care, they're enjoying the back-and-forth banter) The MC elicits a promise from the two that Olivia will not stab Madeleine, and Madeleine will not "mentally and emotionally break Olivia". What's with Madeleine and constantly wanting to break people?

• Also you really think you can emotionally break Olivia??? She's from Lythikos, you pineapple!

• Hana mentions shopping to Bianca and Leona, and we have yet another hint that all is not well at the ranch.

• The ladies change at a store nearby, to outfits that suit the rustic theme for the event. Which means Savannah gets the opportunity to dress a little more glam on this day, and the ladies of the court get to dress down a bit. Well...except for Olivia, who prefers to change into her red Coronation gown. Here are the girls in order of preference:

Okay first off - I have to say this - FULL BODY SPRITES FOR THE LADIES FINALLY OMG!!! It's the first time I'm actually seeing them all like this: the last time we managed to see a change of outfits was when we had to choose their outfits for the wedding, and even then only the half-body sprites were used. The fact that we never get to see Olivia in a different outfit kind of makes me feel like they might be saving her sprite for a bigger diamond scene? Idk.

• Also how did no one either notice nor point out that Olivia was still wearing a gown?

• Hana stays in the outfit she wore the previous day, and you get to choose whether she keeps the hat or not. The denim short skirt and brown shrug is a lovely outfit on Kiara, and I like the necklace Penelope has on. I think my favourite is Savannah's? I love the rhinestones, the embellished belt, the flower design, and it's a beautiful silver colour that compliments Savannah's skin tone.

• Savannah may annoy the hell out of me but one thing you can't deny about her is she's HELLA fashionable (remember the Drake engagement scene where he says the lavender coloured dress was her choice? That dress was super pretty).

• The MC wearing gold for bachelorettes is kind of a theme with her now lol. Started with the gold theme for Madeleine's bachelorette, then a theme where she wore gold and everyone else was supposed to wear black for her own, and now every going country - but she and Savannah get to bring on the bling.

(Fun Fact: Both Madeleine's and Savannah's bachelorettes take place in Chapter 7 of their respective books, with very different outcomes)

• Our first stop after the country makeover is the bar! Which is Hana's choice, because she is the kind of lovely, wholesome human being who will fully commit to research for her friend's sister's bachelorette party.

Why are you lying Hana.

• So the MC helps Hana out first my selecting drinks. You have 5 options to choose from: beer, cocktails, champagne, one of those fire drinks, and sparkling water. Savannah is doubtful and then excited to try the fire drinks, loves fruity cocktails and enjoys the bubbly. Olivia is impressed when Savannah chugs her fire drink. Kiara is amazed at the sight of beer coming in bottles. Penelope is disappointed if we decide to order a very tame sparkling water. Madeleine raises her eyebrows if you try to take anything even remotely alcoholic because she has already decreed you pregnant.

• Next stop: dancing! You get to choose which lady you'd like to dance with, and if you're romancing Hana this opens up to a romantic scene!

Hana: is happy and enthusiastic if you're friends, whoops and giggles as you spin her. More slow dancing happening if you're married to her...definitely more romantic.

Kiara: is nervous at first because she doesn't know "the social mores of this establishment", but when the MC reassures her that no one cares, she lets go of her inhibitions and shakes her hips, enjoying herself.

Olivia: very competitive, is confident she can dance circles around the MC, starts doing martial arts instead. Savannah reminds her it's not a duel and Olivia's like "EVERYTHING'S A DUEL". I should take her to Kerala and have her learn kalaripayattu 😁 (also I'd be interested in seeing a three-way dance battle between Hana, Maxwell and Olivia plsthnx).

Savannah: Also enthusiastic and excited, v much the 'happy bride'. Both Savannah and the MC are comfortable in this setting.

Penelope: This comes with a reference to her social anxiety, because her initial nervousness has to do with the crowds. The MC makes space for her through dancing, and she winds up having fun while still feeling comfortable. Madeleine tries to make a smart-alec comment but pretty much no one gives a shit about her so it's okay.

Madeleine: does not exist.

• After this, Savannah shows the girls how to do a Texas Two-Step, which is baffling to them. Hana gets it down in like two minutes, and the MC depending on options can either do it perfectly, go off-beat then claim she created her own trend lol, or trip over herself and hurt her feet, following which Hana assumes she is doing the robot, and does it alongside her. Apparently she learned it during a summer class she took while her embroidery instructor was sick.

• I don't get it, what's with all these random embroidery references they keep throwing at Hana these days.

• Olivia and Kiki are still baffled by the two-step dance, so Savannah recommends more drinking! Madeleine and Olivia are competitive with each other and loving it, and Penelope and Kiara are confused about how they're supposed to drink tequila. The MC gets to show them how it's done. She can either do it right (pour the salt, drink the shot, suck the lime), or get it wrong (pour the shot, suck the salt, drink the lime). The highlight of this is definitely the last one (pour the salt, drink the salt, suck the salt!). Like, the MC actually tips the contents of an entire salt shaker into her mouth! Failplay MC is the very definition of chaotic energy.

• Kiki, like the awesome friend she is, asks Savannah if she'd like to flirt or do anything hot-guy-related, which Savannah laughs and refuses. The topic then comes around to her relationship with Bertrand and his insecurities regarding Chuck. She says she barely had a thing with him but she's afraid Bertrand might do something stupid (he might, actually). The MC can choose to reassure her.

• I don't get it like...okay? Why am I the one you're telling this to rather than your own fiancé? If he's the one having the insecurities, and you know they're there, what are you doing to alleviate that? I mean as far as I can see your aunt is pretty much dragging him the whole time for not magically acquiring ranch skills and I hardly see you even talking about that. I don't see you actually trying to talk to him. So why tell me all these things - go tell him and sort it out yourself.

• Because Savannah speaks about wanting a happy family in the wake of this conversation, the topic then returns to that of the MC's ongoing attempts to get pregnant.

• Madeleine is a nosy, entitled piece of shit. She just is. Raises her eyebrows at me when I'm drinking, makes terrible apple puns for a fetus that probably isn't even there yet, comes for a trip she's not even been fucking invited to so she can poke her entitled nose into my business. Even her show of 'sympathy' revolves around her and her problems. All this while she acts like a martyr for following a dress code (remember how she dragged Penelope for not getting a metallic dress on time and 'ruining' her dress code, but came to our bachelorette making excuses for not following our dress code?). I'm glad Hana was having none of it at least now.

The only differences between this scene in a Hana playthrough vs in the others is that Hana tries to get Madeleine to stop before the MC gets to give her answer ("Madeleine, please..."), and that she reacts sadly to the MC if she chooses to be openly sad about it.

• ...so the scene in the hotel in Chapter 5 (where the MC and Hana could talk about what Dr Ramirez said, if Hana was your LI) always had a "there, we spoke about it, now shut up" feel to me. Because now they've given the MC a voice regarding how she feels about this pregnancy (we can either deem it invasive, speak normally about it or be very, very sad and spill out how disappointed we are. The last option's dialogues is the one I put up).

It's surreal...to see an MC who can say this openly while Hana's condition and how it's affecting her is barely even addressed. It's even more surreal that even now we're still coddling Penelope to the high heavens, and how a lot of aggressive importance is still given to Olivia, while still ignoring what could be happening to Hana if she's married...or making even a chapter that has potentially no men in it about literally anyone but her.

• The nice thing is Savannah is quite supportive in all three options. Olivia diffuses the tension/seriousness by suggesting we have more drinks.

• Aha! Queen Amalas.

• So she claims she came down not to pressurize us into anything but to see the MC in an environment outside of the palace/estate and court, including how she behaves with other people. She has no friends but treats her servants well (and apparently tipped her waiter a thousand). But the little bits she adds in about our origins can be a little unnerving. While offering a Sarzac she mentions our home state New York and asks if we'd prefer a Manhattan, and suggests we would know about how important a good tip is since we worked as a waitress. The MC's reactions can range between friendly, curious or accusatory. Overall the general impression is that she's mysterious and alluring, but there's something about her that spells danger.

This is me rn:

• Anyway...so we leave with our drinks, and join the girls. Penelope is drunk and talking to a mechanical bull, Kiara is drunk and trying really hard to talk country to the same bull. Savannah deeply (I'm kidding) regrets not returning Kiara's kindness in teaching her French by teaching her American English, coz it would have saved her this moment of cringing in a bar rn.

• They raise a toast to either Savannah, or friendship, or "putting the past behind us". I don't want to raise a toast to any of these options.

• Savannah is emotional and speaks of how hard it was to fit in and how much she missed Cordonia and the people she knew in court when she was away bringing up Bartie, and how the MC "changed all that" (how??? Again, a lot of what she does is optional, not default! Plus a bulk of the work of finding her went to her own brother, and later a fumbling Bertrand - not the MC unless she really chose to help. My MC Esther gets these dialogues despite not bothering to help Savannah in any way) and how she is now friends with all of them.

• Diamond scene! The ladies of the court have never had sleepovers (for various reasons), so MC-who-had-a-way-more-normal-life to the rescue!

• We start off with a drink. Three are on offer and we get to choose one: Hana's special Hot Chocolate recipe ("like drinking a minty chocolaty hug"), Olivia's Lythikos Nog ("like drinking a buttery, spiced cloud") or the traditional Walker Hot Toddies from Savannah (basically hot water and whiskey made with lemon, honey and spices).

• Once that's out of the way, we start off with, as the MC calls it, "gossiping about our love lives". Penelope is asked first, and she gets to tell us about her ongoing relationship with Kiara's brother Ezekiel. Olivia is next, and depending on your choices she can openly speak about the fact that Liam didn't choose her, twice, and how she needs to move on. She can also choose not to talk about it if the MC tells the other ladies of the court to back off (which is funny, because the whole thing was her idea to begin with). There's not a lot of change to this dialogue in all the playthroughs, except for mentions of whether Liam was engaged to the MC or not.

• After this, the MC can choose to ask either Madeleine or Kiara the same question:

- Madeleine is defensive and reminds the MC that she "interfered" with her relationship status (wasn't even much of a relationship to begin with), but eventually makes it known that she doesn't believe in "sappy romance" and would rather marry to benefit her house or country instead (nice save there, PB).

- Kiara is surprised and fumbles with her answers, speaking at first about how busy her life currently is. But eventually she does tell you she has a type. The dialogue differs depending on whether the MC is married to Drake or not:

(Screenshots on the left are from my playthrough, and the ones on the right are from @thefirstcourtesan's Drake playthrough).

...I look at Madeleine's dialogue in this scene and need to remind myself that even broken clocks can be right twice a day.

• Repeat after me, Kiki: I deserve way better than a dude who might throw me under the bus just so he can kiss a Duchess' ass.

• Also most guys in Cordonia must have rippling abs, right. Considering that 90% of the male LIs in PB have six-pack abs.

• Interestingly, Olivia is allowed her feelings - and the confusion and mess that comes along with loving someone and not having that love returned - across playthroughs, but Kiara's has to be adjusted and shrouded in vagueness according to which MC she is speaking to. There are two factors at play there:

1. More often than not the narrative has taken Olivia's feelings more seriously than it has ever taken Kiara's. Of course part of it could be the childhood memories and the amount of time she spent with Liam, but we need to remember that the general attitude in the narrative towards Kiara's feelings constantly bordered on dismissiveness - and that wasn't even the worst of the treatment meted out to her.

2. Have you seen the amount of hate Kiara got from some Drake stans for as little as looking in the man's direction?? They'd tear her apart if she dared to even mention her crush in a Drake MC's playthrough!

• The ladies of the court now want to play literally anything else, so the MC pulls out the tried-and-tested Truth and Dare game out of her fancy cowboy hat. Here's the way it goes:

- The MC nominates Savannah, since she's the bride-to-be. Savannah goes for dare, and has to go by a nickname for the rest of the night (default: Bridechilla. I was really craving something so I went for Fried Chicken 🤣), or pose for a sexy photo which she can text to Bertrand. No response, but you can hear him faint upstairs. When asked to nominate someone, she nominates Penelope to ask a question.

- Penelope chooses Kiara, who picks 'truth'. She makes the MC choose for her instead. The MC does what the Choices universe calls a Wed, Bed or Dead which is really a way of saying FMK without having to write the F. You can give her an option between three women (Olivia, Penelope and Madeleine) or three men. Based on your playthrough, Kiara's list of men will vary (Liam, Maxwell and Bastien in a Drake playthrough, and Bradshaw, Bastien and Drake in other playthroughs). Her 'bed's are Olivia, Maxwell and Bastien, her 'wed's are Penelope (obviously), Liam (to be Queen) and Drake (also obviously), and her 'dead's are Madeleine (but obviously), Bastien and Bradshaw (coz CORDONIA RULEZ!). It's interesting to note that Kiara seems surprised/shocked by the idea when you ask her to choose between the girls, and Hana eases her into it by stating that they're all friends here. Which I found really sweet. Kiara then nominates Madeleine to choose someone.

(note: why is Savannah acting so shocked about Kiara choosing her brother for 'marry' when she spoke about liking him barely ten minutes ago???)

- Madeleine chooses Olivia, hoping to wriggle out any information about the mysterious mission Olivia seems to be on. Olivia cleverly tricks her, by reminding Madeleine that she didn't say truth or dare, and picking dare. With no option she asks Olivia to prank call someone. Olivia has three options:

1. Give Maxwell a phone call pretending to have tickets for a Celine Dion concert. He has to choose the best noble house. Sweet Maxwell cannot choose between his own house and ours, but loses out because the correct answer (obviously) is House Nevrakis lol. Savannah's best line comes from here: "Don't worry, his heart will go on" 🤣

2. Give Bertrand a call claiming to be a representative from the Cordonia Philharmonic Orchestra, and Olivia asks the same question to him. His answer is House Beaumont, without question, and Olivia gives him the same answer. The nice thing about this option is that it's coded such that if you chose Savannah's 'sexy photo' option, the narrative mentions that his voice is 'woozy' and he sounds like he recently came back to consciousness. Whereas if you chose the nickname option, these lines would not be included.

3. Give Drake a call claiming to be from a "secret whiskey enthusiast society". Drake somehow figures out that the caller is Olivia, thus leaving her very, very annoyed.

Once this is done, Madeleine nominates the MC, who chooses truth or dare instead of a person like the others did. Hana makes the suggestions this time.

If you choose dare to a single Hana, she asks you to pretend to lasso Savannah.

If you choose dare to a married Hana, she will ask you to kiss her.

If you choose truth, she asks you what law you'd pass if you had a chance, and you have to choose between a serious one like "restrictions on paparazzi", or jokey ones like naming a day after the MC or getting fancy hats from her subjects. The last one yields this adorable exchange:

- Before we can go any further, the girls notice Savannah feeling drowsy and decide to call it a night. The only people who have basically not been asked anything are Penelope (but she already did get to speak about her beau) and Hana (because no one bothers to ask her anything, she isn't even nominated).

• We return to the kitchen, where our LI is waiting for us. The MC tells them about the visit from Amalas, which the LI also views as suspicious, and the MC has a choice again in how she wants to react to this (the visit was invasive, she is impressed with Amalas' guts, she doesn't know what to make of her). They assure the MC that they'll alert the Walkers.

• LI Diamond scene! A cute scene at the hayloft where the MC and LI can have some private time away from the ranch. Those walls must be paper-thin. The first half deals with the couple talking about loving this glimpse of simplicity, and the second half has the MC choosing how she would have them seduce her. The closing bit mostly has the couple talking about how they feel at home with each other no matter where they are.

Liam: Gets a bit of a hero moment at the start of the scene, where a stray beam almost falls on the MC and he catches it. They joke about a couple of things, such as how 'adventurous' the barn is, and whether or not a rendezvous in a barn would qualify as being in the 'outdoors' 😂 In the second half of the scene, the MC can choose between a 'rough-and-tumble', or have Liam sleep with her in his usual tender way. He clearly has a preference for the second, but is more than game if the MC wants to try the first.

The music for Liam's scene, for some reason, is different (his background score for the first half is the romantic one from High School Story, and Drake's and Hana's is the romantic one from Big Sky Country. I'm not sure what Maxwell's is like because I have only seen screenshots of the scene) and he is the only LI who gets the option to keep his hat.

Ending Caption: Hay-pilly Ever After

Hana: The MC notices that Hana seems happy and at home at the ranch, and Hana points out how different the environment of the countryside ("cows outside, open air, no display cupboards") is so different from her home, where "there's gilt on the walls and silver in the display cupboards", and how she loves this space. The couple imagine together how it might have been if they met in a more humble setting (with the MC as a cowgirl and Hana as a salon owner), and how they would fall in love. In the second half, Hana expresses her desire to go a little wild, and the MC can choose between having her hands bound, or being blindfolded.

This scene tells us that Hana does an amazing impression of a Southern accent and I personally would love it if she could coach Kiara on doing one xD

Ending Caption: Country Courting

Maxwell: As he leads her to the loft, the MC has the option to point out that they have a bed, to which he quips that she's obviously not had as much camping experience as he does. They do a little dance in the barn, and they admit that they missed each other while she was gone. In the second half of the scene, the MC has the opportunity to tease Maxwell, beckoning him to chase her around the barn and catch her. I think he also tells her to "use your words" at one point.

I think this scene has the cutest ending, because they both have an impromptu yodelling duet after that.

Ending Caption: Oh, Darlin'

Drake: This scene is more nostalgic in nature because Drake is reliving his childhood, and admits that he didn't know how this trip back would turn out, or feel. He had no idea how different everything would be, nor what his emotions returning to the ranch would be like - and which Valtoria will always be home to him in some ways, the ranch's simple charm means something special to him. The couple can imagine this place to be either perfect for romance, or for bringing back their future children. In the second half of the scene, he confesses to fantasizing about the MC in the palace stables, and the couple indulge in a bit of role play. This also includes an option to take her against a wall.

The end of the scene has Drake tell the MC that being with her itself feels like a fantasy, one that sometimes still feels too good to be true....and therefore he never wants to take it for granted.

Ending Caption: Making Hay.

• We then see the couple going downstairs the next morning, where the MC manages to overhear a conversation between Leona and Bianca that indicates the ranch has no helpers before an auction that is supposed to bring in money for the wedding, and is in deep, deep trouble.

• So our next chapter will probably involve the people of the court working together to help save the ranch, perhaps some flashbacks? Idk. And perhaps because of their contributions, Leona may thaw a little. Who knows.

General Thoughts:

• Plenty of callbacks this chapter!!

- The bachelorette party itself has plenty parallels and could almost be seen as an inverse of Madeleine's bachelorette. Back then, the ladies of the court each began to express frustration and hurt at her controlling, bullying behaviour, Hana's confidence was left in tatters, Olivia was an outsider to the court not bound by their rules.

Here, Madeleine is a largely unwanted presence and pretty much everyone makes it clear that what she thinks no longer matters. Hana is at the peak of her confidence here. She makes it clear that if Madeleine wants to stay she has to follow their rules. Olivia still manifests as a mysterious outside figure, but more out of choice than out of necessity.

- The other indicator of this parallel is what Amalas tells the MC about wanting to know who she is dealing with. She mentions that she wants to see how the MC interacts with her "friends and servants", and it kind of gets me wondering just how much trouble Madeleine would have been in if a figure like Amalas managed to see her behaviour in Italy with courtiers like Penelope and Hana.

- The fire drink which the MC can optionally suggest for both Drake and Savannah to drink. Drake drinks it in a competitive spirit in his birthday party scene in Book 1, Savannah looks doubtful at first but sees it through, to which the MC will remark that "your brother would be proud".

- Savannah mentioning Bertrand giving someone at Cordonia Philharmonic Orchestra a "severe tongue lashing" 🤣 Which kinda was a term Bertrand used for himself in Book 2.

- Lady 'I didn't know I could dance until I actually did it' Kiara. In Book 2 Hana can compliment Kiara on her dancing skills, to which Kiara laughs and mentions that she had no idea she could dance either. She was super drunk back then, now she knows it while she's sober too! 😅

- Some bits in this chapter remind me of our time with the Beaumonts in Book 1? Like the scene where Penelope speaks to the mechanical bull while drunk, while kiiiinda resembles her drunken behaviour at the Beaumont Bash. Also the whole situation of helpers/staff dropping off at the last minute seems a little parallel to what happened twice to the Beaumonts? Once with the MC's boat and then with the Beaumont Bash to host the court. I kinda find that interesting because Bertrand has been in a similar situation and hopefully could feel...somewhat...useful? If he can manage to string more words together, that is.

- Hana daring her wife to kiss her during Truth and Dare, which is (if you bought that scene and actually picked that option) exactly how their first kiss happened 😁😁😁

• I kinda like it when we have chapters like these where the women of the court have a chapter to themselves, because the dynamics are fun and the women are all different in ways that tend to complement each other.

• Honestly, Savannah asking my MC to become her maid of honour was pretty jarring considering my MC doesn't care a single bit about her and has honestly done very very little (if at all) to help her. I mean I can kiiiiinda understand if the MC is her sister-in-law/future SIL via Drake or Maxwell maybe...but otherwise why couldn't Kiara be an option? How is it that Savannah mentions her struggles to fit in, yet Kiara genuinely helping her never even features? Not even once?

I honestly think that Kiara could have been as good a choice to be MoH - we could have either coded it based on our diamond choices with Savannah, or split it between MC for Drake and Maxwell stans, and Kiki for Hana and Liam stans. Or at least more of an acknowledgement of how they were friends before she left? Beyond an offhand "oh yeah you taught me French, not like that helped me in that completely foreign place where I was bringing up my baby, maybe I should have taught you to speak country". Because having Savannah give me a grand speech about how amazing I've been to her was nothing short of weird and it would have felt a lot more natural to see her at least remembering the friendship(s) she did make in court.

• In at least two points in the chapter, Penelope requires someone to handhold her into certain things. You have to create the space for her while dancing. You have to decide on what questions to ask Kiara coz Penelope doesn't want to decide those herself. I'd actually be glad about their commitment to writing her that way, if I didn't understand how much they've let Penelope get away with, and how much other characters in similar positions have to suffer because the same amount of thought is never given to them.

The failplay I did of all three books brought up a couple interesting (but also disheartening) points about how they dealt with Penelope's condition, and how they dealt with difficult situations other characters had to go through (esp Kiara and Hana). At this point Penelope just sounds extremely entitled to good treatment, without wanting to really give back much in return.

• Kiara...well...I love her in this. She was fun, tried new things out, got out of her comfort zone, and she had some marvellous lines in this chapter. I just think it's funny how huge the differences between the way Olivia's feelings are acknowledged regardless vs the way Kiara's can only be acknowledged if it doesn't affect the MC...and it kind of says something about how those feelings are viewed by those writers. Because as a reader who has been following this story thread closesly, I know the writers have either conveniently forgotten - or take very lightly - how shitty Drake has been to her.

• I mean...had it been just about him not being interested, I probably wouldn't have cared much. I would have either turned to fanfic to change that around a bit, that's something you can always do for a pair you want to see but know you can't in canon. But realizing that the man could openly suspect a woman he knew was stabbed at the same event he was shot, optionally pander to the MC's whims and dismiss what she was going through in the process, and to not feel any fucking remorse for it...I mean, Kiara doesn't deserve better just because Drake doesn't isn't interested in her - because no one should have to be obligated to show interest for another person...Kiara deserves better because this man has done very little for her in their few exchanges (esp Book 3) besides ridicule, mock, act rudely and unfairly to her, and finally getting away with the worst possible behaviour without any consequence (some of it is optional, but the suspicion was definitely default). And I know the writing will never admit that because Drake is their golden boy.

• Madeleine causes minimal damage this time and Hana totally owned her a couple times today...so I'm kinda happy with that. At least they made sure never to bring back any hints of that story they were planning with her for Hana...if there is one thing I'm only too happy they are retconning, it's that!

• Speaking of Hana - there are maybe a couple of things I'm happy about and a lot that I'm not. I like that that she can throw shade (though I wish to God they would have let her do it much earlier) at Madeleine, and my favourite bits involve Hana not allowing that woman to get away with shit that she never allowed other people to get away with when she was in power.

But there's also the fact that she's pretty much treated like the least important person in that room? Like I would have personally loved to see her be asked a cute fun question. I mean, by now both Liam and Drake have gotten individual character scenes, and I only get to see Hana in the context of a group scene with the ladies where she is mostly helping the others? I loved that we got the barn scene afterwards...but let's be honest the barn scene was mostly about the sex.

I honestly just found it weird that the one chapter with (optionally) no men in it still couldn't have some focus on her, or much effort put into her. Is asking for more than scraps for her, too much to ask for? (I feel like the answer to that would be yes).

• Olivia is upto something, and the livestream apparently hinted at her being important to the story. I mean what's new about that? Olivia is a favourite of the writers and they will continue to favour her while Hana is still relegated to the sidelines (and so will a huge chunk of this fandom). No lie, I really like Olivia, but why the heck aren't you giving the lone female LI that much attention?

• I also wonder how much of her mysterious work has to do with the reading up she was telling us about in the last book's epilogue.

• Queen Amalas...I still don't know what to make of her - she's a pretty interesting mix of intrigue and invasiveness I think. She's flirty and teasing, but the way she slipped in those tidbits about our past definitely raised my hackles a little bit. Could be a red herring...could be more. Who knows.

• The Olivia and Madeleine dynamics were great...Kiara is still an awesome, encouraging friend to Penelope, but for me the highlight was Hana and Kiara's bonding (that exchange about hats definitely was a winner).

(Is part of my joy because I ship them? Yes. Yes it is. You can pry that ship outta my cold dead hands PB!)

• The barn scene was lovely: it was nice that the couples got to explore their more adventurous/homely sides in the first half of the scene, and were able to go completely wild for the second half of it. I think it's nice we got to see what they'd mostly like to experiment with in bed from time to time.

• I guess that's all for this chapter. Texas might possibly take a week or two more? Idk. Let's see. Rescuing the ranch may take a chapter, and so will the wedding...there may be one in between probably to figure out BertVannah's relationship but I'm not going to spend diamonds to make them talk to each other, no.

• I kinda like the subtle shift to childhood experiences to certain scenes in this book, because it gives the MC who doesn't know what the place is like for a child an idea of what the others had to grow up with...and therefore how she may need to approach her parenting. A number of the group scenes in this half of the book have had to do with childhood experiences the royals and nobles may have missed out on (pets, sleepovers) and the return-to-childhood narrative is a smart way to deal with that, I think.

• That's it for this chapter, guys! See you on Friday (hopefully) with a Book 1 QT, and next week with the next chapter!

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Bonding Moments

Summary: After a hard day at work, Naomi bonds with an unlikely ally.

Pairing: Mentions of F!MC x Ethan, but mostly F!MC x Aurora friendship

Word Count: 3k+

So...this story took a completely unexpected turn and I think I’m going to add a part 2. But as always, let me know what you think!

Naomi really thought after a disastrous intern year that she’d have a handle working on the diagnostics team with Ethan. But it was hard, much harder than she anticipated. The tension in the air, the lingering glances, the unspoken words, the blurred lines that they constantly tiptoed, it was all becoming too much to handle.

It all came to a head on a fateful Friday. Naomi was having a really shitty day. On top of being exhausted from working over 19 hours straight, she and Ethan had been running tests on a patient—a 13 year old gymnast named Anna—all day, only to find out that she had an inoperable tumor growing on her spine.

This wasn’t the first patient Naomi lost, but it hit her harder than most. She barely made it out of Anna’s room after delivering the bad news before she started crying.

“Rookie?” Ethan started, catching her by the elbow.

“Sorry.” Naomi wiped her eyes hurriedly. “Sorry, just give me a minute, I’ll pull myself together.”

“Come with me,” Ethan said, his grip still on her elbow. He gently lead her to the privacy of his office, where she fully broke into sobs once the door was closed

Naomi sank into a chair and let her tears flow freely. What was the point in trying to stop them? Ethan slid a box of tissues in her direction. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I usually don’t cry, but I can’t help but feel bad,” Naomi continued with a shuddering breath. “She’s just a kid. She has her entire life ahead of her. Or had. She’s supposed to be getting ready for high school, and meeting new friends. And she and her parents put all of their trust into us and we failed them. I failed them.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. You did everything you could, but unfortunately this one is out of your control.”

“I still feel horrible.”

Ethan rounded his desk and crouched down next to Naomi. “I get it, I really do. When Delores died, it felt like a hole in the earth opened up and swallowed me. And I felt hopeless. It always hurts when there’s nothing we can do, but you can’t bog yourself down with guilt.”

Naomi knew Ethan was right, it still hurt. A lot. “I feel like there should be something I can do.”

“Right now, all you can do is make her as comfortable as possible, should she choose to stay here. If not, you let her go and live her life.”

They fell into a heavy silence, Naomi trying to regain her composure and Ethan rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Naomi found herself relaxing. Her cries subsided, tampering down into a quiet whimper and the occasional hiccup.

“You think you’ll be okay for the rest of your shift?” Ethan asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. It’s almost over thankfully.” She just had to get through the next hour without incident and she was free for the next two days.

Ethan reached out and swiped at Naomi’s cheek, catching the tears that had fallen. He leaned forward and placed a kiss at the crown of her head, his lips lingering there. Naomi sighed and leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. His hands were warm and his cologne was so intoxicating, she felt herself getting dizzy in his presence. All she wanted to do was lean forward and kiss him. It was too much. Too much closeness, too much intimacy and she was getting overwhelmed.

She abruptly pushed her chair back and stood up. “We need to stop.”

“Okay.”

“Ethan, what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I appreciate you comforting me, but we can’t do this. You put up a wall, you wanted boundaries, you wanted to keep this professional. This isn’t professional. So, you either want to be strictly co-workers, or not.”

He wished he it could that simple. He wished that his feelings for the stubborn and infuriatingly amazing resident were that black and white. “Rookie–”

“I’m in love with you,” Naomi confessed. “And I can’t keep doing this with you, these fleeting moments of intimacy. If I’m being honest with you, it’s torturing me.” 

Ethan felt like he had been hit with a semi-truck upon hearing Naomi’s words. All of the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“And I don’t know if you feel the same way or not, because of this push and pull we have going on. One day, I feel like we’re making progress and the idea of us maybe being together seems feasible, and then there are days where I feel like I’m interacting with a complete stranger. So for my own sanity, I need you to respect the boundaries you put in place. Please.”

“Of course.” Ethan cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

Naomi ignored his apology. She knew he truly felt sorry, but it didn’t bring her any solace. “I’m going to finish the rest of my shift. See you around, Dr. Ramsey.” And with that, Naomi scurried out of his office, not even bothering to look back.

~~~~~

And now here she was a few hours later, curled up in a throw blanket, eating a pint of ice cream at the kitchen island, The Notebook playing softly in the background for the millionth time. The apartment was quiet, thankfully. All of her roommates went bowling downtown, but she wasn’t up for it. She just wanted to wallow for the evening.

She heard a set of keys jingle and a few seconds later, Aurora walked in, a large reusable grocery bag in her hand. “Oh! Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“Hi,” Naomi greeted. Aurora dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter, and pulled out a few avocados, limes, an onion, garlic, cilantro, tomatoes, a bag of chips, and a few jalapeños. “Making guacamole?”

“Yeah. I’ve been craving some for the longest.”

“Cool.” Naomi didn’t say anything else after that. She just silently watched as Aurora washed her hands and meticulously prepared all of her ingredients. The girl was methodical in everything she did.

“You can taste test if you want,” Aurora offered, as she was mashing everything together. “I’m biased because I think everything I cook tastes amazing, but it’d be nice to have an outside opinion.”

“Oh, you do not have to tell me twice.” Naomi grabbed a chip and dipped it into the guacamole. She devoured the chip in on bite. 

“Well? Do you think I’m missing anything?”

“It’s perfect,” Naomi said, grabbing another chip.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Aurora smiled. “Thank you.”

“You should’ve told us you could cook a lot sooner,” Naomi continued. “Sienna’s getting burnt out as our resident chef.”

“Well, I can't reveal all of my magic at once. I like to keep an air of mystery around. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to find out, I thought I was going to be home alone tonight,”

“So did I. You didn’t want to go out with the rest of the roomies?”

Aurora scoffed. “Please, they wouldn’t want me there anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I get it. I’m tolerated because I pay rent, not because you guys actually like me.”

“You don’t give us the chance to know or like you.”

“I wasn’t liked from day one.”

“You thought we weren’t going to like you or were just going to kiss your ass from day one, and because of that, you came into last year with a major chip on your shoulder.” Aurora opened her mouth to retort, but she quickly closed it once she realized she didn’t really have a defense. “You came in on the offense, claws out, snipping at us, don’t try to deny it.”

“Fine.”

“I get it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I don’t talk a lot about this, but my grandfather was one of the first African American judges to serve for the federal district court in Maryland. My dad is an attorney, my mother runs a nonprofit in DC, my uncle has his own dental practice, one of my aunts teaches international politics at Georgetown, and the other is getting a PhD in clinical psychology at Northwestern. There’s absolutely no room for slacking in my family. It’s success, or nothing.”

“Wow. Impressive lineage, Valentine.”

“Trust me, I know what it’s like to come from an extremely high achieving family. I get what it’s like striving to be your best and having to go the extra mile to prove yourself in a country that looks down on black women. And I’m sure it’s not easy being the niece of one of the best surgeons in the country, a tidbit I tried to bond with you over on our first day, but you rebuffed me.”

Aurora’s cheeks got hot and Naomi could see them turning a light shade of red. “My first year of medical school, people only wanted to talk to me because I was Harper Emery’s niece. Hell, even the professors were kissing my ass. It’s not easy knowing who’s your friend and who’s using you, but it is easy pushing people away. And on top of that, I had her breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. It’s hard trying to carve out my own path.

“We didn’t care about you being Dr. Emery’s niece, well, I didn’t at least. Jackie might’ve had a hang up, but she would’ve gotten over it. The point I’m trying to make is that you need to let your guard down, just a little bit. And if you don’t, I’ll tear it down myself.”

Aurora laughed. “Is that a threat, Valentine?”

“More like a promise. I have a knack for breaking through people’s rough exteriors.”

“Through annoying stubbornness?”

“Yes.”

“That’s going to take a bit to get used to.”

“But it’ll happen.” 

Aurora rolled her eyes and ignored Naomi. “I got tequila too. Do you want any?”

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you lead with that? I love tequila!”

Naomi ran to the other side of the kitchen, and rummaged through the cabinets until she found two shot glasses. Aurora produced a bottle of Patron from her bag and poured the shots. She also cut a few slices of lime and slid a salt shaker across the counter.

Naomi licked the back of hand and sprinkled a bit of salt onto the skin. She held up her shot glass and clinked it with Aurora’s. “Salut!” She licked the salt off of her hand and downed the shot in one swoop. Then she grabbed a lime wedge and sucked it.

“Dang.”

“I was the queen of body shots back in college.”

“And that doesn’t surprise me at all,” Aurora quipped. 

Four rounds of shots later, the ladies were still in the kitchen. The alcohol had completely lowered their inhibitions, and they were currently laughing over a bag of tortilla chips.

“You know what we should do?” Naomi started. “We should do face masks!”

“Do you have any?”

“No, but I can make one.” Naomi’s eyes scoured the kitchen, until they landed on a few extra avocados Aurora bought earlier. “Perfect, avocado and honey masks?”

“Avocado and honey?”

“Don’t judge. It’s a tried and true recipe of mine. Guaranteed to make your skin glow.”

“Fine. Do your worst.” Naomi got to cutting the avocados, while Aurora watched. “So, we know the reason I didn’t go bowling with everyone, but why didn’t you go? You’re like, the leader of this little motley crew.”

“Wasn’t in the mood. I had a...trying day.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m all ears.”

“One of my patients is dying. She has an inoperable tumor, and she’s only a kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And I nearly had a meltdown in the hallway, but Eth–Dr. Ramsey pulled me into his office and I cried it out there. And then things snowballed.”

“How?”

Naomi took a deep breath. “I’m swearing you to secrecy. I invoking Super Serious Roomie Confidentiality. What is said and seen in this apartment, must stay in this apartment.”

“Fine, fine, I promise not to say anything.”

“Do you pinky swear?”

Aurora stuck out a pinky and interlocked it with Naomi’s. “Pinky swear.”

“So...I slept with Dr. Ramsey.”

Aurora didn’t say anything for a long time. She just stared ahead at Naomi, almost as if she was looking through her. “I’m sorry, what? Is the alcohol playing tricks on me? Did I hear that correctly? You and Dr. Ramsey?”

“Yes.”

“What? Like….wh...how? What?” Aurora shook her head. “Naomi, I’ve never been rendered speechless before. Wow. You’re sleeping with Ramsey?”

“Slept. I slept with Ramsey, past tense.”

“Oh my god, I knew you were his favorite intern in our cohort, but–”

“No, don’t do that. I didn’t sleep with him to get a leg up in the competition. He wasn’t even working at Edenbrook when it happened the first time.”

“The first time? You slept with him more than once?”

“Twice. We slept together twice.”

“This just gets better and better. Was is...good? Is he good? Did he go down on you? Did you do it in his office?”

“Aurora!” Naomi snapped. “Stop asking questions!”

Aurora held her hands up in mock surrender. “You opened the floodgates! You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect me to not have questions. So spill, at least tell me what happened?”

“The first time was a few days before my hearing. We had spent a lot of time together, bonding over working on Dr. Banerji, and I was there for him when his friend Delores passed away. It had been building and building and building, and we almost slept together in Miami, but he stopped it.”

“What?”

“He said it wouldn’t be ethical since he was my attending and I was competing to be on the diagnostics team. So we had to carry around the weight of what almost happened, on top of our Banerji secret. And then he quit. He left Edenbrook without any regard. I was very confused and heartbroken. But Jackie and Sienna told me to reach out, so I went over to his apartment, and we had a huge argument, and then we had sex.”

“And I thought it was the end of us hurtling past each other,” Naomi continued. “I thought it would be the start of some type of relationship, but Dr. Emery gave him his job back. So we had one more night for the hell of it. And then Dr. Banerji promoted Ethan to head of the diagnostics team, and he gave me a spot on it, to our shock. And dismay. Now Ethan is my direct supervisor, so we’ve been trying to act like nothing happened. But it’s hard to do that, because we keep having these moments.”

Naomi couldn’t help but think of all the time she and Ethan spent together. Bonding at the baseball game, watching over little Ethan in the NICU, him taking her to the opera and then making out with her, her making him her (world famous) hangover helper. All of it. All of those big and little moments are what made this hurt so much more. “I wish I could say it was just sex, that he was a guy and I was a girl and we just wanted to fuck each other. I mean, we did, but—”

“You’re in love with him,” Aurora concluded, staring at Naomi with rapt attention. “And now that I know everything, it’s written all over you.”

Naomi blinked hard, trying to will away the tears that were threatening to fall. “I am. I even told him that today. It’s the reason I didn’t want to go out with everyone else.”

“You know what I think?” Aurora asked rhetorically. “I think guys are stupid. You have to lead them to the water and shove it into their mouths.”

“What?” That managed to get a chuckle out of Naomi. “That’s not how the saying goes, at all.”

“The point I’m trying to make is you need to give Ramsey an ultimatum. March right into his office and say, ‘I love you, and I think you love me too. So fuck ethics, and let’s stop playing around and give this thing a real shot, or don’t ever speak to me in a non professional capacity ever again,’ plain and simple.” Aurora gasped. “Call him now!”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“He could still be working. And I don’t want to have such a serious conversation over the phone.”

“Stop being such a baby, Valentine. Man up.”

“I’ll talk to him eventually. I want to do it with a clear head. And I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him.”

“Don’t rehearse a grand speech. And don’t wait for the right moment. Life is messy, there will never be a perfect time to do anything.”

Naomi knew Aurora was right, but she was scared. “Okay, no more talking about Ethan tonight. It’s face mask time.”

Aurora poured them both another shot. “Geez, Valentine, your life is like a soap opera.”

“Oh please, Grey’s Anatomy wishes they could supply this type of drama,” Naomi teased.

“You got that right.”

Naomi went back to mixing the ingredients for the face masks, while Aurora sat patiently. She had never done things like this when she was younger, so she didn’t know what to expect. 

The front door opened and in walked all of their roommates, plus Bryce and Rafael. They were talking and laughing animatedly, but that all stopped when they saw Aurora and Naomi together in the kitchen.

“Hey guys!” Naomi greeted cheerfully. “How was bowling?”

“I kicked major ass,” Bryce boasted. “But that shouldn’t shock you.”

“Oh please.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “He was alright.”

“Jackie, you got like, 3 gutter balls in a row,” Bryce said. “As long as I was better than you, I consider it a victory.”

“So what are you guys doing?” Sienna asked Naomi and Aurora, pivoting the conversation in a new direction.

“Eating guacamole, getting drunk,” Naomi replied. “Making avocado face masks.”

Bryce gasped. “Face masks without me?” Everyone turned to look at Bryce. “What? You think my face is this perfect without a meticulous skincare routine?”

“So you two have been hanging out together?” Jackie prodded. “All night?”

Naomi nodded. “Yeah. Guys, Aurora is a roomie now. She’s one of us, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. She’s part of the gang. We got off on the wrong foot, we misjudged her, she misjudged us, but we’re putting it behind us.”

Aurora sighed. “Look, I’m...sorry. I didn’t give you guys the best first impression of me. I’ve been a lone wolf for so long, and I’m so used to being used and judged because of my last name, I shut people out. I don’t trust easily, which is something I’m willing to work on.”

Jackie visibly deflated at Aurora’s admission. “I guess I didn’t really think of it like that. I was so wrapped up in the competition, I just thought the worst of you, and assumed your aunt was pulling strings. Which was very unfair of me.”

Sienna nodded. “And we didn’t didn’t make matters much better. We stoked the flames every chance we got.”

“So can we all call a truce and get along?” Naomi suggested.  “We’re roommates and coworkers, we might as well make the best of the situation.”

Aurora nodded. “I can do that.”

“So can I,” Jackie agreed.

“Us too,” Elijah added. “Welcome to the gang, Aurora. We do Sunday brunches, and go to extreme lengths to make each other happy.”

“Awww guys,” Bryce cooed, miming wiping a tear from his eye. “This is so beautiful.”

“Shut it, Lahela.”

Bryce ignored Jackie, and stretched out his arms. “This calls for a group hug.”

“No,” Aurora deadpanned.

“You’re a part of the gang now, Aurora,” Sienna said. “We hug it out.”

Everyone crept in on Aurora, pulling her into a very tight group hug. After a few seconds, she spoke up, “So how long do these group hugs last?”

“Just enjoy it, Emery.”

A few seconds later, everyone untangled their limbs and stepped back, giving each other personal space.

Naomi clapped her hands together. “Okay, everyone get comfortable. We’re doing face masks and tequila shots!”

While everyone was settling in and getting comfortable for the rest of the night, Naomi felt her cell phone buzz a few times. She dug into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled it out. She had 3 new text messages, all from Ethan.

Ethan: Naomi, usually I would never text, but I figured if I called, you might not answer. I just want to say I’m sorry. I never want you to feel any type of hurt or pain, and I especially never want to be the cause of it. My feelings for you are extremely complex yet, very simple at the same time, and I know it feels like I’m jerking you around, but that’s just because I’ve never been in a situation like this. I thought if I pushed you away, the feelings would go away, but that’s not the case. What I feel for you is all-consuming and all encompassing, and it terrifies me.

Ethan: Sorry, if it seems like I’m rambling right now. I’m writing this in a rush because if I think about it for too long, I might lose my nerve and backtrack. 

Ethan: What I’m trying to say is I think I love you, too.

Naomi’s eyes widened at the last message. “Well fuck.”

[lovehugsandcandy]

Perfect Day  (Rafael x MC, OH)

A/N: This was a request from @cpt-indigo, who wanted “Rafael x MC, road trip.” I really hope you like this. Thank you so much for SUCH a fun request; I had a lot of fun writing this for you and I really hope you enjoy. I am so so so sorry it took so long. Eternally grateful to @akrenich for editing, fixing my comma addiction, and keeping me honest as I step outside my comfort zone.

Pairing: Rafael x MC, OH

Length: 2,735 words

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing? But like, minor swears?)

Summary: Casey and Rafael do not sell seashells by the sea shore. They do a lot of other things though.

Tags: I took everyone off tags because I think ya’ll want a Colt story and this is not a Colt story and I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t want to spam anyone.

There was another knock at the door, the second one in less than three minutes, and Casey swore under her breath, digging under the couch cushion.

“I’ll get it!” Sienna bounced by and Casey jumped on top of the couch to grab her. They were the only two awake in the house and Casey knew she should let her roommate open the door; she didn’t want to wake anyone else up. But she just… she wanted to answer the door, to be the one to greet him. She just needed her goddamned keys.

She glared, balancing on her perch on top of the couch, finally letting go of Sienna’s arm. “Do not get that door. Do not touch that door. Give me a minute.”

Sienna stared at her, starting to edge away, slowly walking backwards, as if Casey was a wild animal about to pounce.

“Okaaay...”

Casey dove off the couch and continued her search. "I just need a minute." 

“Does this mean you don’t want the cookies?”

She looked up from behind a cushion. “You made cookies?”

Sienna laughed, sauntering to the kitchen. “Right now, I think Rafael deserves them more than you.”

Casey groaned and reached; finally, she felt metal at the tips of her fingers, just a little further— got it. “Thank God!” Clutching the keys, she ran to the door and pulled it open. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Rafael smiled at her,  impossibly handsome as always. 

“Come in.” Casey smoothed down her hair. With the lost key fiasco, she forgot that she was nervous but now, at the sight of him, the familiar butterflies were back. They always seemed to reappear when he was around; she couldn’t tell if they were drawn in by his courage, his honesty, his love for his family, or his devotion to the community. Or maybe it was the wave in his hair, the quirk of his lips when he smiled, the jacket that hid the t-shirt that hid the muscles. Crap. Casey really liked him.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go? I can give you more time.” The quirk of the lips was back, a half-smile that she just wanted to kiss.

She shook her head. “I just need to get my bag.”

“And the cookies!” Sienna reappeared, chocolate chip cookies in hand, enclosed in tissue paper, red ribbon giving them a festive touch. She handed them over with a grin. “Hi, Rafael.”

“Oh wow, are those for us? Thank you!”

“You need road trip food!”

Casey grabbed her backpack, pulling Sienna in for a hug. “Thank you, you are the best and I love you.” Dropping her voice, she whispered, “I’m sorry if I was mean about the door.”

Sienna laughed. “No sweat. Now, shoo, go have fun.”

With one last wave, Casey grabbed Rafael’s hand and pulled him out to the street, squinting into the sunshine. He opened the car door for her and she threw her bag in. “Thank you, good sir.”

He smiled at her, eyes soft, leaning into a bow before climbing into the driver’s seat himself.

“Do we have everything?” His hair caught the morning light, a soft glow that brightened his features. Casey already thought he was an angel but now he looked it, too, halo of light around his head as he sat in the driver’s seat. 

He caught her staring and she blushed, clearing her throat. “I think so...Playlist?”

“Double check. I have two.” He held up his phone.

“Phone charger?”

He pointed to the USB cord between them.  “Check.” 

“Twizzlers?”

“Ch- wait what? That seems like an unhealthy choice for a doctor...”

She swatted his arm. “I can’t go on a road trip without Twizzlers! Also, these, obviously.” She opened the cookies, handing one over.

He took a bite, one arm on the steering wheel. “Ready to go?”

Casey pulled open the GPS on her phone. “Let’s go, Superman,” She had never been to Cape Cod, hadn’t been to many places in Massachusetts, but Rafael had been nothing but generous with his time, showing her around Boston, taking her in a helicopter, even introducing her to his grandmother. She was excited to see another landmark in the area and even more excited to be doing it with Rafael by her side.

“Oh my God, it says two hours!” Apparently, they were not the only ones headed down the Cape on a beautiful day. “You know, this would have been 15 minutes in the helicopter.” 

“The helicopter is also only used for medical emergencies.”

She batted her eyes at him. “But what if the emergency is that I really want to go to the beach or I’ll die?”

He shot her a wry grin before lacing their fingers together and kissing the back of her hand. “Well, maybe we can find you a paramedic to save the day.”

“Make it a handsome paramedic and you’re on.” She gave his hand a squeeze, wondering if this was what total contentment felt like.

~~~~~

The drive took a long time but for Casey, it seemed to go by in a flash. She and Rafael talked and laughed and ate junk food and bickered over music and she stole kisses when they were completely stopped. She didn’t think she would mind if they never got out of the car.

Finally, the GPS directed them into the parking lot, rows of cars between them and the most gorgeous beach she had ever seen in her life. The sand stretched to the left as far as she could see; on the right, above the rocks and crashing surf, a clam shack stood, a few seagulls squawking around, looking for morsels.

“Oh, I love it!”

He ducked his head. “My family used to come down here sometime in the summers. We would drive down and spend the day in the sand.”

She paused, watching him. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” She liked the idea of him as a child, building sandcastles in the sand. She liked learning even more about him, every small piece of his past. She grabbed his hand, leading him down to the beach, past sunbathers and laughing children to snag a prime piece of real estate.

“Does this look good?”

“This looks great,” Rafael spread out a huge sheet, weighting down the corners with bags and shoes.

Casey wiggled her toes in the sand. “You came prepared!”

“Paramedics are always prepared!” He looked affronted.

“I thought that was the Boy Scouts.”

“Maybe Boy Scouts are just juvenile paramedics.” He grabbed a tube from his bag. “Sunscreen?”

“If you’re offering.” She relaxed under his touch, relishing his strong hands as they massaged her neck, arms, back. “Have I mentioned how amazing you are at that?”

A shy smile. “Maybe a couple times.”

“A couple million times, now get over here, you.” She grabbed the sunscreen from him, applying a generous blob to his nose, then his back. “I can’t have my Superman getting sun burnt.”

T-shirt off, he was every bit the hunk that the nurses talked about. She grinned to herself, gliding her hands in slow circles down the muscles of his back, feeling his sides twitch when she hit a sensitive spot. Sure, they all knew how handsome he was. But she was the only one who knew his heart, the goodness that emanated from every pore of this man. They could look all they wanted; she was the one who got to stand next to the hero.

“Did you want to go in the water?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Race ya?”

“Ok, su-” He trailed off as she sprinted away. “Hey! Cheater!”

Casey laughed; she could hear footsteps behind her but she didn’t dare look, didn’t dare turn around and lose momentum. She was so close. So. Close.

“Aaaahh!!” Strong hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her off the ground as she laughed and laughed and laughed. He swung her around, grinning ear-to-ear. 

“You cheated.”

She couldn’t stop laughing, burrowing her face in his shoulders as he carried her further into the ocean. Oh no. She could see where this was going. “Wait....wait...” She was laughing too hard to get the words out.

“One...two...THREE.” Rafael swung her, trying to toss her into the water, waist-deep now.”

Casey held on, tight, arms wrapped around his neck for dear life. He tried to throw her but couldn’t and they both tumbled into the surf. When Casey emerged, wiping water from her eyes, tasting salt and sand, Rafael stood over her, water dripping from his hair, droplets sliding down his face.

“Casey?”

“Yeah?”

“I won.” He grinned as she sputtered at him. She couldn’t stay mad long and wrapped him in a hug, his warmth warding off the chill from the water.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

She kissed his cheek, then cupped his cheek for a chaste kiss, salt and happiness on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming up with this idea. For showing me this place.” She shrugged. “For being you.”

He held her close, one kiss fading into the next as the water lapped around them.

~~~~~

They walked down the beach, collecting seashells and swapping stories. They went back in the water when it got too hot, body surfing and splashing each other. They hung out on the sand, sharing a pair of earbuds, using them as an excuse to lie close. When they got hungry and ran out of cookies, Casey looked down the beach. “Wanna hit the crab shack?”

“You read my mind.”

Together, they packed up their things to put into the car then walked hand-in-hand to get lunch. After five minutes of indecision (both the lobster roll and the fried clams looked amazing), Rafael wisely broke the stalemate.

“You get one, I’ll get the other, and we share?”

Casey had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his nose. “You are a genius.”

Both of the options looked better than they’d thought and Casey’s mouth watered as they sat at one of the picnic tables. The surf crashed behind them, the sun was high in the sky. Casey had amazing food in front of her, an amazing man next to her. Was this heaven?

“Ok, let’s split it.” He grabbed half of his lobster roll, sliding it on her plate, while she did the same with the clams. “I’ll get more napkins.”

He made it three steps when disaster struck. Casey would have screamed if she had more time to react but, suddenly, there was a commotion above her, around her, flapping wings and squawking cries and then? A violent robbery.

She was covering her head, trying to protect herself from the aerial assault, but they were everywhere. Rafael ran back the three steps, waving his arms around, trying to get the seagulls to disperse. He was yelling or laughing or both at the same time; she didn’t know. All she could do was duck and laugh.

By the time he had chased them away, they had stolen all her fries, most of the clams, and half the lobster roll. She frowned as she trudged back to the line, trailing behind Rafael, gripping his hand, warm and solid in hers. “Stupid seagulls.”

He laughed, arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “You know they can sense weakness, right? They knew you would leave the food undefended.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Weakness? I’ll show you weakness!”

He dodged her hands as she lunged, trying to tickle him into submission, fingertips gliding under clothes and over smooth skin. They were laughing so loud that the woman at the counter had to yell “NEXT!” six times before she got their attention.

~~~~~

“I am so full!”

Rafael opened his book next to her. “I told you it was good.”

She sprawled out, utterly content. “I’m totally going to go walk it off.”

“Really.”

“Uh huh. After maybe just one tiny nap.”

He laughed, running his hand through her hair, lightly pulling on the drying curls. “Sure thing, Sleeping Beauty.”

She was going to respond, she really was going to, but she was so full and the sun was so warm and the salt in the air was so relaxing that when she opened her eyes again, she was shocked to see that he wasn’t next to her anymore and the sun had moved across the sky, changing the angles of the shadows along the sand.

“Huh? Rafael?”

She looked up, shielding her eyes. He was standing up, looking intently into the ocean.

“Rafael?”

He didn’t seem to hear her, started walking away, when a sharp whistle, three blasts, made her jump. Rafael started running, sprinting to the water as Casey sat up, still groggy. There was a commotion, a yelling, a lifeguard running into the water, Rafael hot on his heels.

“Oh crap.” Casey jumped up, scanning the water, trying to see what they were looking at. She followed, but couldn’t see anything out of place. Another lifeguard, barely a teenager, sprinted by her with a huge plastic stretcher, and Casey realized she had to move.

She followed, racing to the edge of the beach, hand shielding her eyes. She couldn’t see Rafael anymore, almost started yelling for him, when there was a splash, more splashes, and a yell and there he was, he was swimming, then carrying someone, a woman, unconscious, out of the water. Crap.

“Quick.” She grabbed the stretcher, putting in down on the sand for a stable surface. “Rafael, here!” She screamed and waved to him, relieved when he headed her way, moving carefully, cradling the woman’s body, the other lifeguard trailing behind her.

It was like being back at work, the efficiency with which they moved. He lowered the woman onto the stretcher as Casey knelt, two fingers to her neck, ear to her mouth. “No respiration, no pulse.”

Rafael dropped to the ground, ready to step in, but Casey waved him off. “No, you just saved her. I need fresh arms. You.” She pointed to the lifeguard, who cautiously came closer.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Get over here. You’re on chest compressions. Rafael, get an ambulance here.”

Rafael and the other lifeguard took off, back towards the beach, as Casey turned towards the lifeguard. She originally thought he was in high school but, up close, she wondered if that was an overestimate. How old could you be before you could work? Jesus.

“Do you know CPR?”

“Uhhh...... I mean, I took a class.”

Casey took a deep breath. “I give her two breaths, you do 30 compressions. Right here. Count out loud.”

The lifeguard was turning green. Crap. 

“Hey. We can do this, ok? You ready?” She rubbed his shoulder, trying to transmit some of her calm.

Finally, the lifeguard met her eye. “Ok. We can do this.”

“Good.” Casey tipped her head back, carefully, and delivered two slow, steady breaths, watching the compressions. “One and two and three and-”

All she could do was breath and count and hope that, this time, it would be enough.

~~~~~

She heard the siren wail, the ambulance weaving through the parked cars to get to the street. Rafael wrapped his arms around her waist. “You ok?”

“Yeah...” She let her head drop on his shoulder. “I hope she’s ok.”

He nodded, eyes distantly gazing over her. “They know what they are doing. I think we got her in time.”

“I wish I could have done more,” she frowned.

“Well, you always are taking care of everyone else, your friends, your patients.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe you should let someone else take care of things for a while.”

She smiled up at him and watched the reflection in the waves, sun low over the water. They stood there, in silence, holding tight to each other in the sea breeze.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I think so.” 

~~~~~

They found their blanket and packed up their things, heading back to the car in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Opening the door, she took one last look at the beach, the waves, the sun sinking into the horizon, and got in the car.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

“This was a perfect day.”

He looked at her. “Uh, besides the woman who almost drowned.”

“And the traffic.”

“And the seagulls.”

She looked at him, watching the setting sun reflect in his eyes.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

“.......This was a perfect day.”

[gg-astrology]

hi boo. It’s the moon/water dom anon again! (I need a better name lol). I just wanted to stop by and say your chart is so NICE. I love how much earth you have! Also you have a second house stellium, which I have too! Can you talk about having a stellium in the 2nd house? All I know is that it’s about finances and money, but that’s all I know :( thank you again

hey there!! 💕💕 lmao u can take an alias if u want!! 💕 I have ur asks saved on the tag  ‘#moon/water dom anon’ right now, but definitely feel free to take an alias u’ll be more comfortable with, and i’ll just slip it in later! 💕💕

wow thank u!! 💕💕💕I’m glad you like the earthiness!! 💕

I had to think about this for a while. There’s a lot of things that I’m trying to figure out as well (since there’s a lot of things to touch on). But I’m going to lay out the basics on Succedent Houses, and then Stelliums and then being a 2nd House Stellium.  It might be spread out into ‘brief introductions’ and I won’t go into details about them, but seeing how these all works together should provide a good ‘overview’ of 2nd House Stelliums/Succedent Houses. 💕

[Below Cut: 2nd House Stellium/Succedent Houses + Stelliums and How To Handle Them ] 

2nd House talks about values, confidence, worth and security. Within the context that it’s built around the ‘self’ (1st house), so those values and your own confidence are built to support you when it comes to how you see yourself. 

I think most people who has a stellium in their succedent houses (2/5/8/11) feels a little insecure about themselves to an extent, mostly because it talks about supporting the Angular Houses that has to do with self-identity (¼/7/10). So, when you have so much energy (conjunctions) within the house of support, it can often feel like you’re geared towards constantly evaluating ‘what more do I need? What else am I lacking?’ — in order to create more structure/support for those self-identity houses.

 If the Angular House is about manifesting the self (ASC, IC, DSC, MC) and the energy there is more like an explosion (without direction). The Succedent Houses (2/5/8/11) is about putting down roots to those energy and prolonging it. Making it last and rooting it down. If the 1st house says ‘This is me’ then the 2nd house says ‘This is my value’. It’s about building depth into the 1st house by structuring it/creating support.

The Succedent Houses are all ruled by Fixed Signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius). With Taurus the ruler of the 2nd house, it creates an interesting mix of figuring out what you want to share with others and what you want to keep for yourself? See, on one hand. Taurus/Leo/Scorpio/Aquarius has no problem talking about social relationships and dynamics with others (through self-expression or even contributing their gift to society). But on the other hand, all these signs also has a very strict boundaries about what they consider belonging to themselves/keep to themselves as well. So it comes to talk about boundaries.

People with their energy concentrated in the Succedent Houses often finds themselves kind of territorial, in a way? It’s more like, there’s a clear distinction where their lines are, what others shouldn’t cross. What they place their values on in order to keep their autonomy. Sure, they don’t mind giving to people what they can expend/afford to give, but on the other hand the others better not force them into something they don’t want to do. Or cross them somehow. It’s more of a responsive lashing out (consequence of another’s actions) position rather than an instigating one (precautionary defensive tactics).

This is a theory but there’s an idea that, if you have a stellium in one house, you should look to the opposite house to funnel the energy that way. If you were trying to create balance in your chart (because stellium talks about concentrated energy in one house) in order to learn how to use that stellium (unbalanced energy) and not be so heavily focused on one end, you’d try to learn the lesson of the opposite house. Essentially, your sister-sign. (Karmic debt is also talked about when it comes to stellium but that’s another thing to get into).

So if you have a stellium in the 2nd house (Taurus trad. ruler), you’d try to learn what’s in your 8th house (Scorpio trad. ruler) has to offer. 2nd house is about resources for one self, being stable for one self. And Scorpio talks about resources from others, transformation through others/self.

Part of the lesson the 2nd house gives is about how you handle your own sense of stability, but in order to learn that you have to be aware of how you  get through transformation and not being so heavily focused on obsessing with your stability.  

See, people with 2nd house stellium goes through fluctuation all the time. The problem is these fluctuation does nothing to change their values/perspective on how they handle their resources. It’s not transformative in the way they process these changes. And they’re fixated on the ‘standard’/‘mindset’ they set out for themselves, that they often don’t realize it hinders/stops them from achieving more success/becoming more flexible in life.    

Same goes for any of the houses with stellium in them, but again this is just a theory and not something I’ve actually tested out or fully studied on. So take it with a grain of salt because opposite signs can either go one way or another. 

So my own thoughts on having a 2nd house stellium in relation to the 2nd house:

I have my Sun in the 2nd house along with my Mercury, there’s an underlying dependency from my own sense of self and my thoughts/expressions being gathered around my social relationships, the familiarity with the people I consider (protective) over, my own self-worth being tied to how well/good I am at taking care of these people in my life and the overall stability I can bring to others and myself through my thoughts/inner core (Capricorn cusps in 2nd) 

The main concern here for all 2nd house stellium might just be over ‘possessiveness’. I think when I was younger, it was either I have one best friend who is entirely mine or I don’t have one at all. I didn’t like sharing best friends, and I had to learn that it’s ok to not be possessive over someone like that. 

If you think about it, possessiveness/obsessiveness is something thats added to a relationship. It’s a power-dynamic that turns the relationship toxic. One of the partner is pulling the other towards them/going towards others consistently, the other person feels like they had to reciprocate but often can’t match up to the intensity. (And if they can– it becomes co-dependency). The reason it’s toxic is because of an over-abundance of activity in the dynamic particularly only from one end. One of the partner wants to do everything, which leave the other person helpless and caged. That’s not how relationship works because it becomes a power-imbalance.   

Having a 2nd House stellium is having to relearn over and over again how to not be possessive over people/things you have in your life but still  have protective instinct instead. Giving power back to those around you instead of spear-heading another person’s issue by yourself (even if it’s in their honor) isn’t going to cut it/make it better. Learning how to grow from others instead of leading them, or letting other people into your own little circle of friends is important. But also within one-on-one relationship, learning that you can care about others but you have to listen to them and respect their own choices can be a lesson 2nd house stellium might have to learn. 

The 2nd house also does talk about money, but it’s less about the actuality of money but more about the concept of money. 

This has more to do with possessiveness over yourself, and your well-being in order to provide for others. I think it has more to do with liking the idea that you’re financially secure or stable in your life.  I like the smell and thought of money, I like the comfort and it grounds me to know I have my own bank account. It’s the independence and sure-ness you have in yourself that no matter what you do, you can still have a bit of lee-way due to the support that comes with the 2nd house. Whether it’s support from within yourself or support from external sources. Having a stellium in any of the Succedent Houses brings you a deeper appreciation for bonds throughout your life to gain those support (for yourself/for others).

So the problem is more about distinction here. On one hand, you’re unwilling to share what you consider ‘possession over yourself’ (monetary gains) on the other hand, you’re over-abundance in providing support for others might be misguided (’possession over others for others sake’). 

It might be a disconnect from reality or knowing what exactly to do just because the energy provided through the stellium is spread across rather than at a direction that’s ‘right’. So a Succedent House Stellium person often finds themselves faced with people saying they might be ‘selfish’ or ‘cold’ when that’s the opposite of what they wanted (wanting to be ‘caring’ and ‘supporting’ towards others but comes off rather ‘intense’)  

That’s my thought on the 2nd house stellium for now. 💕 I think there’s few more ideas to add, but this is a good place to stop. 💕 I don’t know if all these will apply to everyone who has a 2nd house stellium, since I did kind of base it around parts of my own chart and figuring out as I go. 💕I hope it helps you in a way 💕 

 The parts that I haven’t really talked about yet is how others view 2nd House Stellium and What They Do That Makes Others Feel that way. But I think it’s important to get the parts on how 2nd House Stellium Sees Themselves + Brief Introduction to 2nd House Stellium out for now. 💕 

Again, thanks again for such an interesting ask!! 💕 This has been a brain turner for me to do as well skdjfnsdk 💕 

[cedarmoons]

you had me

so in the update, lucio tells mc: “was it you? the one who broke [asra] for me?” which, first of all, WHAT. my brain immediately went to angst, and spawned this. finally.... i can continue to fulfill my destiny of writing angst for each and every fandom i enter..... burningelmo.gif

asra/mc, pregame speculation, but also some character building for my witchy bab ziah, and an opportunity to practice more arcana characterizations. warnings for lucio being an asshole and (conjured, not actual) self-harm.

prompt lists || tip jar

She always has sage and jasmine and frankincense burning in the shop, these days, to better purify the air and strengthen the protective spells around the shop. She draws wards and runes around the house’s doorways and windowsills, and prepares protective and healing charms for customers desperate to buy them. Yet nothing shakes the sense of foreboding that lingers like a heavy, cold cape draped over her shoulders.

The plague claims more and more every day. It is not a physical disease, but something from another realm, and she does not know how to combat it.

Asra had waited until the new moon to visit his friend, Muriel, the gladiator they had rescued from the Coliseum. She had drawn upon his body various sigils of protection with sacred salt water mixed with dragonlily ink herself, so she knows that he will be safe. Still, she worries. If he contracts the plague, he will be far from her healing waters, far from Tiamat’s diminishing power, and his familiar—still so small and new to this world—will not be strong enough to alert her to any danger he finds himself in.

She does not realize she is gnawing at her thumbnail until the sharp clack of her teeth biting through the nail pierces the air. She lowers her hand at once and closing her eyes, inhaling deeply, allowing the incense to fill her lungs and calm her, though it takes several long breaths before her mind begins to settle. She senses movement and when she opens her eyes, Tiamat is sitting atop the small saltwater fountain Ziah had constructed for her, watching her with bright blue eyes.

The water wyrm had once been as large as this room, had once been strong enough to power her movement with magic, floating through the air as easily as she had swum through the ocean she so loved. But that had been long ago. Ziah gets up with a sigh and crosses the room, cupping her hands in front of her. Tiamat crawls into her hands and curls up into a circle, barely filling her palms.

He will be well, Tiamat assures, lifting her head and brushing her scaled snout against Ziah’s cheek. You worry too much.

“Oh? And yet you scolded me for my distance not so long ago,” Ziah replies, lifting her hands so that Tiamat may move to rest atop her shoulder. “He has grown on me.”

Grown on you! Pah! Are you so blind to your own feelings, child?

She is far too old to blush, but she allows herself a small smile as she begins to rearrange the jars that rest behind the counter. Powdered bat’s milk, pickled newt eyes, preserved wyvern honey from the Blood Mountain…

The door opens, the bell ringing alongside the silent wards audible only to her ears. Ziah returns the jar of wyvern honey and turns to face the customer, silencing the wards with a gesture hidden behind her back.

The visitor is a man she knows well—pale, and blond, with tattoos under his eyes that distinguish him as a member of one of the southern war tribes. She does not kneel or curtsey or do anything except stare at him. “My Lord Count,” she says. “What brings you to a humble apothecary’s shop?”

Lucio hums, lowering his golden hand to rest lightly atop a display case—he had worn the claws, this time, she notes. At her silent urging, Tiamat crawls down the back of her neck, burrowing into her hair. Her braid will shield the lump. Lucio drags a single golden claw over the glass, the sound high-pitched and squealing, but Ziah does not flinch. She extends a hand behind her, and the water in the scrying bowl across the room begins to tremble, quickly forming into something semi-solid and ready to answer her call.

“You know, there were rumors of this little shop,” he drawls, observing everything in the room but her. He stops in front of the fountain that serves as Tiamat’s home, and it takes everything within her not to tense. His cloak is entirely made of white fur, and it swirls around his ankles, which are clad in golden, heeled boots. “Rumors that you were just a little fortune-teller, or an apothecary, or a midwife—depended on who you talked to, really. But you’re more than that, aren’t you?” He turns, eyes narrowed as he takes in her long, braided hair that falls down to her hip. “I can taste the magic in this little shop.”

He takes a step toward her. Tiamat burrows further into her hair, but Ziah remains silent. Lucio’s lips quirk up into some cruel facsimile of a smile. “You’re the one who took my Scourge from me, aren’t you?” he asks, taking another step forward, then another, until they are almost chest-to-chest. Ziah is taller than him, she realizes, even with the heeled boots he wears.

“I do not know of whom you speak, my Lord Count,” she says.

“That is what I mean,” he hisses. “No one remembers him anymore! You took him from me and I can’t even get him back! He was my gladiator, my property—you had no right to steal him from me.”

“My Lord Count, I do not know what you speak of,” she says, again. He searches her face but cannot detect her lie. She is too old, and too practiced, for such slips.

“Then it was that little orphan boy you took under your wing?” he asks, lips curling away to bare his teeth at her. “Perhaps I should be hunting him down instead.”

Ziah clenches her jaw and Lucio grins, something animalistic and dark in his eyes. “Ah, there we go,” he says. “Found something.” He chucks her under the chin with his golden claws, and she jerks away, nose wrinkling. “So tell me, little witch, why haven’t you gone to the palace?” He turns away, examining more of the shop’s magical wares. His claws tap against the glass, hard enough that small cracks spiderweb through it. Ziah turns her body as he starts to circle her, keeping him within her sight at all times. “We’ve opened our doors to everyone trying to find a cure for this plague. A witch of your talent—and your apprentice’s—would be welcome.”

“I have not the slightest idea how to cure the plague, my Lord Count.”

“Well, obviously, no one does. That’s the point of coming to the palace,” he says, annoyance shadowing his features. “Maybe you just need some proper motivation? Maybe—your familiar? The little water dragon on your back?”

How did he—?

Feeling her heart begin to race, she twists her wrist behind her back, and the water across the room begins to lift itself from the scrying bowl.

“You know, my tribe had legends about the Siluri,” he tells her. This time, when he steps forward, she steps back. “They were the fiercest warriors ever seen, their raids and heroes the stuff of legends. Even Prakra feared them, back before it was an empire. They never cut their hair unless they lost a battle, did you know? Scalping a Siluri was considered a great achievement. But then the tribe just... disappeared. Do you know what happened to them?”

His eyes linger on her face, waiting for a reaction. Ziah does not give him one, even as she turns her wrist and the water begins to lift itself from the scrying bowl behind him. “I do not, my Lord Count.”

It seems to be the answer he was expecting. “One night, each and every Siluri was slaughtered by a little blue-haired Prakran slave girl who could control water—but that was three hundred years ago.”

When he grabs her throat, the movement far too sudden for her to counter, age old instincts flare up in her. With a snarl, Ziah lifts her foot and plants it into his unprotected stomach, kicking as hard as she can. Lucio wheezes, releasing her, and she lands on her feet. With several short, sharp fluid movements, the water bursts from the scrying bowl to rush towards Lucio, knocking him flat against the wall and icing over, pinning him to the stone in a wall of ice. Ziah calls back some liquid water and it crystallizes into an icy spear in the palm of her hand, one she levels at his throat.

Lucio only laughs, baring his teeth. His eyes are bloodshot, she notes—but no, there is too much red to be simple exhaustion. He speaks before she can think of it further.

“Fucking hells, it’s true,” he says, wheezing. His canines gleam in the gas lamp’s light as he grins at her, energized by the violence. “I didn’t think it was, when I first saw you—but holy shit.” Ziah takes a deep breath through her nose and presses the spear forward, letting it prick his throat, letting the blood trickle down his skin, staining the pale flesh red.

It would be so easy to make his blood burn. So easy.

“If I don’t walk out of this shop within the hour,” Lucio sneers, “my guards will barge in and kill you. They’ll burn down this shop. And then they’ll hunt down that apprentice of yours and kill him too. So if you want to keep your hide, little witch, you’ll let me go.”

Ziah clenches her jaw and pulls away, turning her spear into a harmless orb of water that floats above her hand. The ice stays, pinning him to the wall.

He says, with a savage smile, “Or maybe—maybe I don’t need you. There are plenty of rumors about your apprentice, too, you know. Rumors that he is growing more powerful than you. Maybe he’s the one who needs proper motivation.”

“You will not touch him,” she snarls.

“I’m the Count, you idiot, I can do whatever I want.” As if to prove his point, his shoulder flexes and the ice restraining his golden arm shatters. He drives his metal fist into the blocks around his other hand and feet, and within moments is standing before her, a savage leer on his face. This close, she can see that her suspicions are correct—the red around his irises are not faint, or from exhaustion, but deep crimson and too obvious to ignore.

“You have the plague,” she breathes.

His features contort, silver-and-scarlet eyes flashing in anger, and he half-snarls at her. “Oh, you are smart. Yes, I have the plague. And if you don’t want your little apprentice to end up mysteriously infected with it, or your little familiar ending up dead, you’re going to do what I want.”

Ziah grits her teeth. “Which is what, exactly?”

“You’re going to go to the Lazaret. I don’t care if you get infected or not, but you’re going to make your little apprentice think you have the plague. That’ll make him come crawling to the palace, hmm? I don’t need you both—I just need one competent magician there. That should be enough to find a cure, don’t you think?”

“Magic will not save you, Lucio,” she says. “This plague is not something that can be cured. By anything.”

“I don’t believe you, little witch. So here is what will happen. If you’re not in the Lazaret by sunset tomorrow,” Lucio threatens, eyes narrowed, “your apprentice will be there in your place, and I will make sure he actually has this incurable plague. So… think about my offer.” He seizes her braid in his golden hand and leans up toward her, sneering. Ziah tenses, fighting age-old instincts that tell her to run, to fight, to hide. “And let me tell you—for that little stunt you pulled earlier, when the time comes, I will be the one to personally cut off your hair.”

He releases her and offers a charming grin as he steps back, the grin he feeds the masses whenever he throws open the palace or hosts festivals or a match at the Coliseum. “And who knows? Maybe threatening you will be enough to get my beloved Scourge returned to me.”

Ziah stares at the swish of Lucio’s cape as he turns on his heel and strides out the door. Once he is gone and the guards have disappeared, she collapses, chest heaving. Tiamat skitters up her back to rest on her neck, nuzzling her scaled body against Ziah’s throat. He is bluffing, she says.

“He is not,” Ziah whispers. “He will do it. He will hurt Asra, and Muriel—”

Unless I do what he wants.

She lets herself break down. Lets the tears course down her cheeks to stain the wood, ignoring the fact that she has not wept in many, many years. She lets the frankincense and sage burn her lungs, lets her body curl into itself until her forehead touches the floor, a mockery of the prayers she had once believed in, so many years ago. Tiamat says nothing as she curls around the front of Ziah’s neck, too small to wrap herself around fully. Her silence betrays her thoughts: that she, too, thinks there is nothing to be done.

If she ignores Lucio, Lucio will harm Asra. She knows that Tiamat will be safe so long as she is by her side, but Asra… she closes her eyes, thinking of how it could happen: a drugged drink, a kidnapping in the shadows of a back alley, guards arriving at their doorstop to drag him away.

Or she could go into the forest, right now, take Asra, and run and never look back.

But Tiamat would not be near saltwater. And Muriel would be alone.

And if she were in the Lazaret, she would be next to the ocean, which had been blocked off for months since the plague first appeared in Vesuvia. Tiamat could regain some of her lost strength, and she could attempt to heal the sick—attempt to find her own cure for this otherworldly plague. And Asra and Muriel would be safe from Lucio.

It does not take long for her to make her decision. She takes a slow, steady breath, closing her eyes as she inhales, lungs expanding until they strain. And then she rises and gets to work.

The first are the wards by the front door. She destroys them in controlled doses, silencing the explosions so the neighbors do not come running. The broken wards leave notes of warning energies in the air, a clear alarm to any sensitive to magic. Asra will sense it the moment he turns onto the street. When enough of them are broken, she returns to the shop and turns on the tap for a short moment, just enough to get a handful of water. She hardens it into a block of ice and slams it into one of the display cases, sending glass shards across the floor. She knocks a few of the cheaper materials to the floor, but leaves the wyvern honey intact.

She goes into the garden behind the shop and burns the parcels she’d specially crafted for customers, meant to prevent or ease the symptoms of plague, charms of protection and healing and comfort. The smell of rare and precious herbs wafts up in smoke and is carried away by the blaze.

But it is the illusions that hurt her the most. They are powerful, more powerful than Asra has ever seen from her—too powerful for him to detect as a falsehood. He is still learning, her young love, but she knows his potential. Perhaps if this had happened five years from now, ten, he would have known her façade for what it was.

Oh, she wishes she could see what he will become. She longs for it.

She whisper-sings an ancient mourning song, one from her girlhood, as she opens a vial of pig’s blood and dips her fingers in it, drawing thin lines over her arms, her side, her face. Where her fingers go, an illusion of split-open skin, knife wounds and scratches follow, as realistic as any true wound—illusions that will heal themselves in reaction to any kind of magic. She sits in front of a mirror and dabs pig’s blood on her eyelids, imaging the splash of scarlet in the Count’s eyes—and when she opens her eyes, the sclera are stained with splashes of red, thin tendrils of scarlet branching out from a matching corona around her iris.

She lifts what is left in the bottle with a gesture, manipulating the water within the blood to spread out and soak into the floorboards, carefully controlled puddles that will resemble an attack. When it is done, she corks the bottle and returns it to its hideaway place, tucked behind a grimoire on her short bookshelf.

It is nearly sunset by the time she lies down, rolling over onto her side, draping one arm over her body. Tiamat rests on her neck, curling up into a tight circle. She knows what part she must play.

This will break him, she tells Ziah.

“I know,” Ziah whispers. Her own heart, which she had guarded so selfishly until the day she met him, throbs hard beneath her breast, and she wonders if she had somehow made it bleed as well.

Asra arrives just after dark. She hears him sprinting down the alley, shouting her name, hears him skid to a stop in front of the shop. She forces herself to stay limp and pliant as he steps over the dark threshold, even as she hears his breaths come in great, shaking gasps. “Mizi!” he calls, but the next moment his breath hitches, and his voice breaks as he whispers: “Mizi?”

The shop suddenly glows in a pale, warm light—light enough to see the blood around her body, the wounds on her arms, the destroyed shop. A sob rips from his throat, and he is suddenly kneeling beside her, gathering her into his arms. Ziah blinks open her eyes, letting her lips part as she stares up at him. Asra’s hands glow with healing magic, just as she’d known they would, and the illusions begin to fade, wounds closing up as realistically as if they truly existed.

He cannot tell the difference. But he would have, had they had more time, had she been a better teacher.

The light in the shop shows the panic in his eyes, and her heart breaks for him. She swallows hard, lifting a hand—weakly—to brush the pads of her fingers down one cheek. His gaze meets hers, and his expression crumples as he sees the red in her sclera.

“Mizi,” he says, and his voice breaks. “No. No, nonono, please—”

“A mob broke into the shop,” she whispers, her voice low, dry and rasping. “They stole the charms against the plague. I could not stop them.”

“No,” he says again, and lowers his forehead to her collarbone, shoulders hunched and shaking. He clutches at her as he weeps, his body rocking. She holds him to her, fingers buried in his thick moon-colored hair, and lifts her gaze to the doorway, where a group of curious onlookers have gathered. She knows the light must reflect the conjured red in her eyes, for a multitude of them gasp, and she hears the word “plague” murmured among them. One bystander starts running down the street.

Asra hears them too. He lifts his head, features twisted into a grieving snarl she has never seen on his face before and makes her miss his smile. He shouts: “Leave us!”

The force of his grief wells up like a wave, pushing the onlookers onto the street. They scatter, the spell of watching their embrace broken, supplanted by fear of plague. He turns back to her, breath hitching, his purple eyes gleaming in the soft pale light.

“Asra,” she whispers. “Asra, it’s all right.”

“No.” He swallows audibly, turning into her touch when she palms his cheek. “No, I’ll—I’ll take you somewhere, somewhere north, somewhere far away from here. I’ll take care of you, Mizi, I promise, we can leave Vesuvia and forget them all—”

She lets him babble useless promises and instead holds him, trying to commit to memory the feeling of his touch. She knows how the sick are treated at the Lazaret—isolated and left to die, their bodies burned in pits. She strokes his hair, saying nothing, letting him hold her and weep until his eyes are dry and puffy and sore, and his voice fails him. Even then, he does not move, his body curled into hers like a sunflower bends for the faint rays of the dying sun.

They hold each other until the plague doctor arrives, his bleached mask and black cloak concealing all features except his deep, curly red hair. Asra holds her tighter, resisting as the doctor kneels before them and attempts to pull him away. “You’re risking yourself to exposure,” the doctor says, and he sounds gentle even through the mask. “You’re only making it harder. We can help her at the Lazaret.”

“No, you can’t,” Asra snaps, eyes narrowing. “There is no cure for—” His expression crashes, and he looks back down at her. “There is no cure,” he repeats, quieter. She brushes the wet skin under his eyes with her thumbs, cradling his face between her hands.

“Asra, let me go,” she murmurs to him. He shakes his head, a low, panicked noise escaping him, reminding her how painfully, beautifully young he is. So she sighs, and lifts her head up, slowly, lethargically, as someone who had just survived a vicious attack would, and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. He goes still, only pulling back to look at her with wide eyes.

“The palace may help you find a cure,” the doctor offers. “I’ve been going there, myself, though I admit I haven’t had much luck.”

Asra doesn’t even acknowledge him. He smoothes back the baby hairs at her temples and swallows hard. “I’ll go,” he whispers. “I’ll find something.” Her heart aches in her chest, twisted tight, as if it is straining for him. His thumb brushes over her cheek. “I promise.”

I know you will try, she thinks, almost says, but she does not want to be cruel to him. So she only offers him a soft smile, doing her best to hide her grief. Tiamat slithers down the back of her neck and burrows in Ziah’s hair, hiding herself from the doctor’s glassy, red-tinted gaze. Ziah drops her gaze down to Faust, still small enough to nestle unseen on Asra’s shoulder, still new and fragile. She will grow larger, she knows—maybe even larger than Tiamat, when she was at her healthiest, her most powerful.

“Take care of him,” she whispers, and Faust flicks her tongue out, sending waves of reassurance toward her. Ziah swallows and lets her hands fall away, turning her face toward the plague doctor. This time when the doctor reaches for Ziah, Asra lets her go, his expression wretched and heartbroken. Tear tracks still shine on his cheek, and she watches him press a hand to his chest. The doctor slides his hands under her body, lifting her against his broad chest, and Ziah turns her face away from Asra, closing her eyes and resting her head against the doctor’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor says. Ziah squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to look at Asra, even when she hears him follow them out into the street, even when she feels his eyes on her.

She does not need to look back to know she has broken him.

She knows he loves her. He knows he loves her. Yet they do not speak of it, not for years and years of knowing each other. Not until one day as he is brushing her hair, brown fingers working through deep blue strands, humming a Vesuvian sea shanty under his breath. She watches his reflection work, her gaze lingering on his smile, soft and distant.

“You should not love me,” she says at last, once his sea shanty ends. Asra looks up, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. Like lepidolite, deep purple with a thousand thousand flecks of silver and pale violet.

“And why is that?” He’s still smiling, still loose and calm from a good night’s sleep. They had been together in his dream, so he’d told her. They’d been doves, exploring the world, flying over stormy oceans and hissing deserts and emerald jungles.

“Because I will break your heart,” she informs him, even as her own heart throbs under her breast. “Some way or another.”

He laughs, long and loud, the cheerful pfhahahah she has come to adore. He grins at her, afterward, eyes crinkling in the corners until they are almost closed. His dimples are shadows etched into his cheeks. He sets the brush aside and leans forward, kissing her shoulder.

“You?” he asks, still grinning, still young and foolish and somehow, impossibly, utterly in love with her. “Break my heart? Never.”

[jinjojess]

Spoilery V3 Ask

About the popularity poll--pretty long and lots of opinions and conjecture.

powtripfalldieyay said:                                                                     Actually, the japanese fandom surprised me. I don't understand Momota's, HaruMaki's and especially, Shuuichi's placements. While I'm not into Momota and HaruMaki, I expected them to be much higher. But what really disturbed me was Shuuichi. He's the last character I'd imagine to be in first place. Aside from his design, I think he's the blandest main chararacter until now. I refuse to believe it's his personality. And by looking at Rantarou's position, I guess they do care a lot about looks.    

I know I sometimes say things and people just up and don’t believe me, but I’m 100% confident in my 分析 about why Saihara was made the protag after the switch instead of someone more interesting (and despite later plot-related justifications for why it HAS to be him--I suspect that the themes could still work with another character at the helm, unless like with DR1 Naegi the blandness is the point...or maybe the fact that he’s so perfectly suited to fit the average DR fan’s taste is the point?): he’s moe bait.

DIGRESSION

Also I still think Saihara’s more interesting in Naegi, if only marginally. “I cried after essentially stumbling assbackwards into the solution of a Duel Noir” is a bit more compelling than “I carried a swan once and it somehow made a super-famous idol notice me.” Of course the whole detective backstory I suspect could be a fabrication, but even if that’s the case, unpleasant things do still happen to Saihara on occasion, so he’s still > Naegi at this point. (My opinion is subject to change if the V3 anime comes out and is a continuation where the moral is that Saihara is always right and everyone else is always wrong.)

/DIGRESSION

But seriously, read the reasons on the page itself. You’ll notice that like 80+% of them amount to “the character is cute/attractive/cool!” My main reasons for liking the characters I chose (Akamatsu: “She’s the first protag to actually be decisive and she had the guts to straight up kill a dude”; HaruMaki: “She isn’t fawning over the protagonist and acts as if she has the guts to straight up kill a dude”; Hoshi: “He straight up killed some dudes and is paying the price for it”) are conspicuously absent.

So yeah, the Japanese fandom is just as appearance-focused as fandoms anywhere.

Also similar to the wide swaths of fandom just about everywhere, they will happily like whoever the narrative tells them to like. Look at how Monotarou beat Monodam. There’s got to be some DAMN GOOD developments ahead of me to justify that one. The mentality of “this is the protagonist, I must like them” just isn’t questioned on the whole (and like I said, this is a human nature thing, not a Japan thing. The poll Nate and I ran here on Tumblr had the same three characters at the top, just in a different order.) The protagonist usually gets the most attention in the story, and so the fans get a clearer handle on that character and end up liking them the best.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that--I do firmly believe you’re free to like a character for whatever reason you so choose--but it is frustrating that it feels like DR will never get away from this trope of kinda bland MC who needs to learn to believe in himself, because it sells so damn well.

To address the question of why other characters would fall lower on the tiers, I can throw out some guesses on that. Take these with a grain of salt since I haven’t finished the game though--this is just my conjecture.

For HaruMaki, one of the most popular reasons cited is that “she gets nicer and cuter as the game goes on” which makes me roll my eyes because Japanese society and this fucking “girls must be NICE” nonsense. I think a lot of people wanted HaruMaki to be Kirigiri--maybe a bit cold and reserved, but constantly holding your hand and reaffirming your value and whatever throughout the game. But then Chapter 2 hits and Saihara can’t even free time with her because she literally does not give a single fuck about your status as protag. Now for someone like me, that’s really refreshing and great, especially set against how everyone else seems to treat Saihara like some kind of precious baby animal in need of coddling, but to Japanese fans who were expecting the usual tsundere trope, it probably wasn’t a nice surprise.

Meanwhile, I think Momota is awesome but I suspect his masculinity is too pronounced, to the point where I think it comes off as threatening. The kinds of male characters who get popular in anime circles are often pretty androgynous and usually have shy natures. I kinda think this is rooted very deeply in rigid Japanese gender roles that treat different genders almost as different species, but that dissertation will have to come another day. Momota’s crime is being too manly, basically.

You see something similar with Gonta--Gonta has the right temperament to be a fandom fave, but he isn’t fitting the waifish physical ideal, so into 12th place he goes.

Why are Iruma and Yumeno so high? Iruma because Japanese people LOVE gap moe, and Yumeno because she’s small and cute. Again, nothing wrong with that, but it isn’t surprising to me, really. And if you don’t think Amami wouldn’t have blasted past them if he got more screentime, I dunno what to tell you.

As for Shirogane, that doesn’t surprise me a single bit either, and that’s because I pay attention to DR merch. Nate likes Shirogane for sharing his birthday and having a delicious drink at the Pasela cafe, but her merch retails extremely cheaply. For instance, if you want a student card from Namjatown of Akamatsu, that will cost you around 4500 yen. Okay, well she’s popular, what can you do. Let’s knock it down to characters like Hoshi or Gonta, toward the bottom. Their cards are roughly about 600 to 800 yen plus tax. Way more reasonable, but still a bit on the stiff side for a plastic rectangle with some official art and text printed on it. Shirogane? 216. With tax.

Why is this the case? I don’t think it’s because Japanese fans dislike Shirogane necessarily, I think it’s just that she’s very much a middle-of-the-pack kind of fave for people--they don’t dislike her, but they don’t have much impetus to like her. She’s a girl, for one, which is already counting against her. Her design is very simple (ha) and her style of speaking is pretty fucking normal aside from the quoting things and slipping 地味 into every other sentence. There’s just not a ton to make her stand out among the other, way more memorable characters. Since the poll only let you choose the top 3 (meaning I had to cut Toujou, Gonta, and Iruma from my faves list), I think not a lot of people wanted to waste a slot on poor Shirogane.

Granted, I’m still talking from my position at the Chapter 2 trial who knows, I could be right and she turns out to be the one behind everything later, or she could have some sort of breakdown where she snaps and gets really interesting or something. This is just my suspicion for now.

(There’s also my secret thought that perhaps the fandom doesn’t like having to deal with characters that too closely resemble themselves in real life.)

Like most fandoms, the hierarchy goes:

>cute/attractive androgynous boys with problems >cute/attractive girls who don’t break any social mores >cute/attractive boys >cute/attractive girls who do break social mores >not cute/attractive characters