#I mostly selected based on ones I knew + the ones I saw mentioned the most when I searched for discussions of favorite adaptations

[adaptations-polls]

Which version of this do you prefer?

*There's actually multiple film versions that came out in 1920; this is the version starring John Barrymore

**Also released as House of Fright and Jekyll's Inferno

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Emperor! x Opera Artist! Reader Headcanons:

Warning: This section is a continuation of the previous one, so you have to read the other one to understand this one.

Topics to talk about: Mention of kidnapping, abuse, murder, obsessive and yandere behavior, manipulation, and anything involving yandere behavior. Also, as I said before, I am NOT describing any Asian emperor in particular, so I have created my own; Not to mention that I have used the Chinese imperial harem system as a base, as well as the forbidden city itself. I will name (Y/n)'s children, so I warn you that I am not describing any prince or princess in particular.

Enjoy it!

1. Yan Li knew that because of having such fast promotions the concubines were mostly jealous of you, so to prevent any attacks, he kept an eye on every corner you went to.

2. He also watched over the princes and princesses he had with you, who were the following:

-The third prince, Li Chen (your first child). -The sixth prince, Li Song (your second child). -The eighth prince, Yong Li (your third child). -The ninth prince, Li Yon'er (your fourth child). -The tenth princess, Yan'rong (your fifth child). -The fifteenth princess, Hua Li (your sixth child).

3. Your children also suffered from palace intrigues, so you had to protect each one of them tooth and nail. Yan Li saw this and decided to severely punish any concubine or consort who dares to harm you or your children.

4. To protect (and harass) you, Yan Li selected a specific group of servants for your palace, among them is the one who became your "right hand", a servant in charge of cleaning, named Yuhou.

5. Zhou, meanwhile, was devastated to learn that you were kidnapped by Yan Li in a golden cage, so he tried to enter the palace and enlist in the imperial army, which he succeeded after a few years. If he can't rescue you, he would at least watch over you from the shadows.

6. One day, when you were in the middle of your third pregnancy, you were walking with your maids when they saw each other. One of your maids, Lili (yes, your old friend), noticed this. He was shocked to see you not only dressed as one of Yan Li's consorts (at that time you were still a consort), but he felt her heart break at the sight of you pregnant. You felt like running towards each other, but you loved your children too much to challenge Yan Li like this.

7. --He… forced you?-- Zhou asked after remaining silent in surprise. You could only nod at that moment.

8. --Yes, isn't it obvious?-- You answered and left, being very devastated just like him, not knowing that Yan Li himself was watching them, angry and jealous.

9. Yan Li made sure you would never see your loved one again, taking him out of the forbidden city on super difficult military missions, basically sending him to die multiple times on purpose.

10. You suspected that Yan Li would find out sooner or later, so you purposely avoided meeting or talking about Zhou, no matter how sad it made you. You didn't even mention it to your children.

11. The few times Zhou was in the forbidden city, Yan Li tried to set traps for you to see how far you would go or whether you would be unfaithful to him, and the best thing you did in hoste traps was… stay in your palace and quietly go on with your life. , which Yan Li did not expect.

12. Yan Li has never hurt you physically, rather he threatened or manipulated you, followed by controlling how long you could sing and dance (like when you did before) or not, which discouraged you a lot. He only allowed you to do it for him.

13. I forgot to say that Lili entered the Mese Palace after you were kidnapped, but Yan Li wanted to make sure that she didn't help you escape, so he sent her first to work in the laundry house, the embroidery department, the flower department and gardening and finally in the workhouse where Lili had some acquaintances, both good and bad, and endured a lot of work and humiliation.

14. Each time Yan Li locked you more and more to himself, with the excuse that it was to take care of you, but he only wanted to control you.

15. Yan Li even had every gift that came to you or your children checked. He also appreciated any gift you gave him.

16. You watched your eldest children grow up, marry, and leave your palace for their own princely mansions, one after one. Li Chen was the first of all of them.

17. After you gave birth to Hua Li, you were unable to have children again, but Yan Li didn't care about this and still forced you to stay with him every night he could, now threatening to harm Zhou if you didn't comply with his whims. and you gave yourself to him.

18. Yan Li forced you to spend time with him, and not only at night but also visiting you in your palace, taking walks with him (sometimes with the Empress Dowager as extra company) and even accompanying him on trips and festivals.

19. Speaking of the Empress Dowager, she quite likes you and Yan Li is glad that you get along with her since… well, she's his mother. She is the only person who forgives you for spending a lot of time with her aside from your children and harem problems; He likes that you get along with the highest ranking woman in the empire.

20. Yan Li really likes your son, Li Chen, so much so that he secretly made him his heir to the throne; so neither you nor Li Chen himself knows.

21. In the event that any of your children or one of his consorts helped you escape, Yan Li would banish them from the forbidden city and condemn you to house arrest.

22. During festivals, he would control even who can talk and who can't talk to you. Among the people who can't even get close to you would be your beloved Zhou.

23. A drunk minister once insulted you, and as a result, Yan Li burned his tongue.

24. Yan Li is the one who had all your crowns made to your liking, demonstrating the deep love (or rather, obsession) he had for you.

25. Sometimes during the nights you were forced to give him back massages after a stressful day, and on other nights he would do this with you.

26. The servants even had to be careful not to bump into you, because depending on Yan Li's mood… he may simply punish them, or kill them.

27. As time went by, you became a grandmother thanks to your prince's children, but you couldn't always see your grandchildren since Yan Li liked to keep you prisoner in the forbidden city.

28. Every time Yan Li goes to bathe in his own private hot spring lake, he forces you to bathe with him, even if you don't want to. Likewise, if he knows that you are bathing alone in said waters, he will bathe with you even if you don't want to and he will make you be close to him.

29. He makes sure that every birthday of yours is fantastic.

30. Every time he got sick, he asked you to take care of him. Conversely, every time you got sick he took care of you and by doing so I mean not only getting you the best medicines, but also watching over everything that your maids or the imperial doctor do.

31. The Empress Dowager became ill over the years due to old age, and when she died, you were very sad since she was somehow the closest thing to a mother to you. Your princesses also mourned her a lot, not to mention Yan Li himself. Due to the close relationship Yan Li had with his mother, he was devastated and declared three years of mourning; It was the only time you felt truly sorry for him.

32. Yan Li has given the order that if something happens in the palace or during a trip, they must save you and your children first, since he does not want to see you hurt, injured or in the worst case scenario… dead. That is a nightmare and a terror that has haunted him day after day since he met you, which is why he believes that he is protecting you but in reality he manipulates you, locks you up and isolates you from the world.

33. He admired how you managed the imperial harem and all the internal servant departments with an iron fist, even if he didn't tell you directly.

34. The only excuse Yan Li accepts for you not wanting to sleep with him is if you or one of your children is sick.

35. The only visits Yan Li allowed to you were from your eldest children, either alone or with their wives and children. I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Yan Li noticed the pressure your parents were putting on you, so he sent his guards to "talk nice" to them, and from then on they stopped bothering you.

36. Yan Li saw you meeting Zhou secretly, which made him angry, so that night he threatened you that if you didn't say goodbye, he would kill him in a cruel and painful way. The next day she made you say goodbye to your loved one and then took him out of the forbidden city so that one of his guards would cut his neck, killing him quickly and throwing him into a mass grave. Needless to say, you really hated Yan Li again after that.

37. As the years went by, Yan Li became sicker and sicker, mostly from stress, which you took advantage of to start getting revenge on him, poisoning him.

38. His health deteriorated more and more, until on his final day, when he was dying, you dismissed all his servants from his main hall and then confessed to him. Yan Li was very angry and felt very betrayed, but he could do nothing but listen until he died at the hands of the person he loved so much.

39. During Yan Li's funeral, you pretended to cry, not knowing that your real happy days began from that moment. Yan Li's trusted eunuch read the emperor's will, which stated that Li Chen would be the new emperor, and you would be the empress dowager. Long story short, your son ascended the throne, reshaped your living conditions, and the other consorts became "widow consorts." You no longer had to worry about anything, you would just live in peace from now on, taking care of your daughters until they grow up.

40. However, Yan Li was waiting for you in the other world. He has told you years before he died that even if he passes away first, he will be waiting for you in the next life where he will find you and make you his again.

-Fin. So, what do you think about this part two?

[hazbinextgeneration]

Demon Bride Ch9 All In A Name P2

(WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS!!! EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'll be keeping it as SFW. Some backstories have been slightly altered for this particular story, and some characters cannonically dead or harmed is alive and well. I own nothing.

Credit to @flanelltees​ for the designs I based the demons off to look more demon-like with tails and pointed ears.

This story will be sfw, but there will be some blood, implied death, fighting, some gore mentioned, and a few other things that will be made aware by warnings. Pay attention to warnings at the top of any chapters just under the summery please.)

Once in the mountain villages it was a custom that once a year on the night of the new year's first moon, an unlucky young lady would be selected and left for the demons to become one of the unlucky few who married such a husband. In exchange for this offering the demons would protect the villages and leave the humans in peace. Until one day a powerful warrior drove the demons away freeing the humans of them. Now 2,000 years later, it's become a tradition that once a year, a new young lady would be picked and wait for her future husband to retrieve her from a shrine in the mountains. And now the lucky tradition would fall upon Y/n L/n. It would be her own turn to take on the tradition and not have to worry about demons. After all that part of the old tradition was just fake, made up by paranoid ancestors. Everyone knew demons didn't exist.

...Right?

(WARNINGS!!!: Mentioning of death/implied death, mentioning of wounds on Kyogai's back and reader's fractured leg. )  

First Part Here:

https://at.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/demon-bride-ch-1-thus-it-begins/dibtpmvn5d42

Last Part Here:

https://www.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/712909980183953408/demon-bride-ch8-all-in-a-name?source=share

Next Part Here:

https://www.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/714219793892458496/demon-bride-ch10?source=share

Two weeks. You were going to have to wait here for at least one week just to wait for a doctor to come see your leg, and then another week to wait until January was over just so these monsters wouldn't try to hunt you down for a desperate marriage! You wanted to cry out in frustration but at the same time had major trouble being able to wrap your head around this entire new reality you found yourself trapped in. Kyogai didn't say anything else after sending the woman away, leaving the two of you to just sit in the silence shared alone, and not speaking to one another. Meanwhile he continued to write away on something you still couldn't see, not wanting to move from your spot and staring at the room you were both in. It looked just like one of the rooms you saw last night snooping around. A mostly empty room with a few shelves, a table where Kyogai sat at, and a single lantern swinging above them. The silence continued on for around three minutes by this point, until you looked back to him and spoke up.

"So...Mr. Kyogai?" He hummed in response to your voice but didn't look up from ..whatever he was doing. "Would you please tell me where I am? I mean...I know I'm in your home, but exactly where is this place located?"

You thought that was a reasonable enough question. If he was in your situation, he would've probably asked the same things you would've. His movements stopped for a good solid silent second, before he again looked over his shoulder at you seemingly surprised.

"You....really do not know where you are?"

You shrugged. "I know I'm still on the East Mountain, but I've never been here before and I've gotten lost. Remember?" He still stared at you. "...What?"

"How could you not know what this place is- Are you serious!? All humans know of this place! We used to rule the entirety of the mountains and half the valleys surrounding it! Even if you've never been here, you must've at least heard about it!"

"I've heard of legends of demons and monsters who were driven away hundreds of years ago but I never knew they were real!" His brows shot up in an annoyed look. "I mean-...Look at it from my perspective. If you heard that there were fairies living underground but you never saw them, wouldn't you be a little skeptical of it?"

"Well of course! That's ridiculous!" You nodded- "The fae people live three forests over, the dwarven people are the ones with an underground kingdom. My Master quite enjoys the wine they produce."

You stared back at him opening your mouth-...Before just shaking your head. "I-..Well you get my point. All I want to know is where I am."

"The Forest of Yokai, on the other of of the Mountains," he finally answered making you blink. "We used to own the entire eastern side of the mountains as well, but that was taken from us years ago."

You nodded. "Yes, I know. Two thousand years ago. When the warrior drove you all from that side of the mountain. Since then it's been a marriage tradition for grooms from the villages to retrieve their waiting brides from the mountain on their wedding day." Well, for your village it was just a little ways up the mountain by a stream, but it was still a tradition that was around well before you were even born.

He seemed surprised you knew that much at least because he slowly nodded. "Yes. That much is correct. I'm glad you know that much at least." He sighed and turned back around. "Since then we have lost reign over that side of the mountains, but other than that ONE spot, we still own all of our original territory. Even more so now that my Master has gained the equivalent of six provinces worth of land over the years!"

Your eyes widened. "Your Master is the ruler of six provinces worth of land?"

"Yes. He's worked extremely hard to keep it that way as well. Through years of-"...Intimidation? Fear? Harsh laws? "...Hard work and careful planning." He decided on instead since that technically wasn't a lie. "He is a very wise ruler."

''If that's the case, how come I've never heard of a giant part of the land being ruled over by demons?"

He might've answered you but before he could, the sliding door opened back up and two figures entered making you look over. The purple skinned monster woman, who Kyogai referred to as Nagi, returned with another monster woman, but this one looked totally different. She had a much shorter haircut that was just above her shoulders and it reminded you of the haircut your old village Elder had. She looked normal too! ...Well normal-ish. Raven black hair with fair skin and she wore a pink and white kimono. She looked like any other normal person, except-...She had four arms and four eyes on her forehead that instantly made you stare at the strange features. Both women bowed instantly to the bigger demon who still didn't look up from the papers he worked furiously on, the feint scribbling noises continued.

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"Lord Kyogai, I have fetched Eri and everything you requested as promised," Nagi spoke from her bow.

"Very good." A hand pointed behind himself at you making you blink. "This human will be staying with us for upmost a week, maybe longer. Eri, I am appointing you her carrier for the time being."

Eri must've been the name of the four armed/eyed woman because she only nodded happily. "Of course, My Lord. But I was told I have been fetched to also tend to your wounds as well. Have you changed your mind on the matter?"

His head nodded. "Yes. But before you touch me, take care of the human."

Eri blinked. "Sir?"

"I have been told by Lord Enmu that her leg is either broken or fractured. Until he can arrive, she is to stay off the injured leg and not move it around so much. Have you brought the cold water I asked for?"

"It's being sent for as we speak."

"Good. Soak her leg within the cold water once you get her settled in. I was told the swelling will go down that way."

Both again bowed. "Of course, Lord Kyogai." "Whatever you say, Sir."

Nagi, the one with no eyes, came shuffling over to you and lowered herself to her knees before you, again bowing her head. "Pardon me in advance." Before you could ask what she meant about that you felt something touch your body, and you yelped as her arms were shoved under your body. One securely on your back, and the other just under your knees before she lifted you up. A small gasp escaped your lips as your hands instinctively grabbed hold of her, as she lifted you high with inhuman like strength. "We shall make sure she is most comfortable, Sir." Beside her Eri nodded and was about to turn with you in tow-

"Wait!" Your shout startled the two women as they suddenly looked at you, and your arm pointed right at Kyogai's back or more specifically the wounds still across it. "Help him first!'' Both woman looked at you, and with a sudden pause, Kyogai also looked around once again surprised at you. "His wounds are open and exposed and they've been that way for hours now! That's bad! I may have cleaned them up but they need actual medical attention to avoid infection and anything else from happening to him! My leg can wait! It's not as serious as what I'm looking at right now. And..." Your look softened, arm returning to your body, "He sustained those wounds saving my life. I'd never forgive myself if he got hurt because of me, so take care of him first. I owe him that much at least."

Both women demons stared at you surprised before turning their heads to Kyogai for his order on the subject. He continued to stare wide eyed for ten more seconds before his face relaxed and he turned away. The faint sounds of a quill's scribbling continued afterwards.

"Do what the human asks," he said a hand waving them off, "Just make sure her needs are met and all my previous orders are carried out."

"Yes, Lord Kyogai," Eri said suddenly holding up a small wooden box she pulled from the folds of her Kimono. "Please allow me to take care of you." He softly grunted but gave no other response as she went to kneel down to face his injured back. "Will there be anything else?"

"...Yes. Where is Mayla with those unfinished documents like I asked?!"

"She'll be here any moment, Sir. Nagi, why don't you just care for the human while I tend to his lordship?"

Nagi only nodded her head before turning with you still in her arms just as Eri opened the wooden box and reached a hand inside to pull out a ball of bandages and container of medical ointment from within. Your view ended when Nagi carried you away from the doorway and down the hallway from the room they were in.

Nagi ended up carrying you down the hallway which looked very similar to the ones you saw last night when you were snooping around last night, she remained silent as she walked and you gave a glance to her face. You couldn't understand how she could know where she was going as she had no eyes, but you could tell she was in a good mood from the small smile she wore on her face, and she seemed to not have any qualms with carrying you at all. Although you couldn't help but feel bad having her be made to carry you...so you spoke up.

"Um..Nagi?" That was her name right? She hummed indicating she was listening but otherwise didn't stop walking. "I'm sorry you all have to go through so much trouble because of me. I shouldn't have broken in last night, and because of that your Master's hurt and you're being made to help a total stranger. I also put everyone in danger last night. ...If I could I'd bow but just know I am really sorry."

She hummed again, but in a more thoughtful way as if she was thinking of her response, before smiling wider. "Do not apologize."

You blinked. "...What?"

"You heard me correct. You do not have to apologize," she happily and eerily casually replied, "This would not be the first time someone has broken into Lord Kyogai's domain and I doubt it would be the last.''

That through your brain for a loop because you only stared at her. "W-Wha- Wait! So this has happened before?!"

She sighed with a small frown. "Unfortunately yes. It happens once every so years when some of the courters become desperate. Also unfortunately it never usually ends very well for them once Lord Kyogai catches them. Normally Lord Kaigaku, or if we're lucky Lord Akaza, would ensure there wasn't any incidents like this but it seems both are very busy breaking up various fights this year's season."

"Does this happen every January?"

Nagi nodded. "It's one of the reasons the Master assigns Lords Kaigaku and Akaza to keep our kind in check, especially if some of them try to go to the human settlements to court a human woman such as yourself. But usually it is Lord Kokushibo who does that as he is the main ambassador between the human and demon affairs when Master is not present to handle them himself."

"I-...I have a hard time understanding all of this hiarchy talk."

"Would you like me to explain it to you when we get you situated?"

"I'd like that very much!" Maybe it'd help explain what the heck was going on! "But where are you taking me if I might ask?"

"The women's bath. You smell of many demons and the outside. It might attract some others here if they were to come by. If you're cleaned of them and are instead covered in the scents here, it'll be less likely to attract hostile courters to you. It'd ensure all of our safety." ..Oh. Well that made sense. "You are also very filthy. It would be better to clean up before anyone treats your wounds."

Ouch. That stung....But also fair enough. Your kimono was also covered in dirt and you didn't doubt that also applied to you. For a while the only sounds that echoed throughout the halls were Nagi's footsteps against the polished wooden floors passing by familiar hallways and rooms, but soon there was other sounds. Faintly at first but then you heard it, voices, murmuring to one another. And footsteps, and some objects being moved around. It made your head perk up as Nagi continued to walk forward towards the noise. Two left turns and a hallway later, and you saw them. Demons! LOTS of other demons. Most of the demons were women at your first glance. All wearing some kind of brightly colored kimono and running around from room to room with some kind of object in their arms or were on their hands and knees with thickly-bristled scrub brushes and buckets, cleaning what looked to be red liquid from the floors and walls. It made you involuntarily wince from the memories of last night and it was then that you realized where you were. This was the place where that monster with the rope like tongue chased you from that weird dining room! The wooden splintering noise you heard was actually a broken door the thing knocked down and you saw three larger demons working on removing the broken sliding door. These three were men. Some of the only male servants you've seen so far and each one looked as strange and un-human as the women demons. They were using some strange tools or pulling on pieces of the shattered and splintered door to remove it to presumably replace it with a new one later. But despite being male or female, all of them stopped what they were doing and turned to look as Nagi approached. Wide eyed, and surprised looks mostly, but a few gave some dirty or annoyed ones mostly likely because of the mess that had to be cleaned-...Oh. ..OH! They weren't staring at Nagi. They were staring at Nagi carrying you. The realization immediately made you embarrassed and guilty and you looked away from their eyes when they watched Nagi carry you past them, not even stopping as she stepped over and weaved past them all expertly without even a second glance back at them all. You didn't particularly blame them for being annoyed at yourself, after all this mess was caused because you broke into their home and made others follow you in here, so of course some might harbor some annoyance at the situation.

Nagi eventually went past them all and weaved down a few other halls you've seen until she moved onto halls you weren't familiar with. More demons were walking around, some stopped to stare at the two figures walking past, while others couldn't be bothered just walking around doing whatever they were tasked with that day. All looked nothing like a human with horns and multiple eyes and limbs and being different colors even. All playing their part like it was a normal day under their lord's orders. There was different rooms now that met the f/c eyes looking around. There was two giant storage rooms?? They were filled to the brim with wooden crates and other random pieces of furniture from what glimpses you were able to see as Nagi swiftly walked past. Perhaps that's where they store the furniture while they clean the rooms? There was one giant sliding door which you were sure lead to a giant kitchen, it radiated heat from the other side of the door and you could smell some kind of food from the other side, some kind of meat with spices. Perhaps pork with rosemary and basil? The new parts of the giant mansion made you look around and at one point you saw one room with a small sign pinned to the front of it, which was strange as it was the only room with literally any sign on it.

"Why does that door have a sign on it?"

"Oh. That is Lord Kaigaku's courters. As he's often working the forest line in this area, Lord Kyogai has set a room aside for him to use whenever he wishes to stay here which is quite often. You might meet him while you stay with us.." She also hummed with a small frown. "But I would advise avoiding him if he is in a bad mood."

"Why? Is he dangerous?"

"No. He just gets angry a lot of the time and he'd rather not be bothered. It's best to leave him alone unless he asks something of us and let Lord Kyogai handle him."

Yeesh. He sounded like a nice ball of sunshine. Not. Eventually The demons thinned out until there was only one or two every so often and their wasn't very many doors. Just one or two per hallway. Until eventually Nagi stopped in front of one particular door and you yelped as she shifted her weight just a bit to allow herself access to slide open the door which lead to a slightly cooler room.

"We're here. Your leg is still injured so we must be careful."

Thirty minutes later and you were situated in a room away from the baths. In fact it was the room right across from 'Lord Kaigaku's' room, whoever he was. You just hoped you wouldn't run into him, whoever he was, he sounded unpleasant to be around. Nagi had been kind enough to make sure you didn't drown in the giant pool that was deeper than it appeared, and so you didn't harm yourself further. Lending you a spare plain kimono that was lying around before whisking you away to this room here. Wasn't really anything special. It was just a plain room with a window overlooking the forest outside and was devoid of any furniture except for one plain futon in one corner, not that you were complaining of course, you didn't have any right too. A chair was taken from somewhere in the mansion and placed into the room for you to sit on and wait until Eri was done with tending to Kyogai so she could tend to you instead, which wasn't that long a wait. She arrived just five minutes after Nagi sat you down in the chair with a large bucket of water in two of her arms and carrying that wooden box with the other. She apologized to you for taking so long before placing the bucket at your feet and gently grabbed your swollen leg, you hissed a little bit as pain throbbed through, and Eri slowly lowered it into the bucket where you gave a small surprised jolt at how cold it was. It was freezing! Which wouldn't be too bad if you were just drinking it, but having half your lower leg dunked into it wasn't very fun.

"Is something wrong?," Eri asked noticing your expression.

"I-It's cold!"

"Of course! It's supposed to help with the swelling, and it's the best we can do until a better doctor can look at it. Until then, we will do what was commanded by Lord Kyogai." She then opened up the wooden box and reached a hand inside only to pull out a small metal container. "Hold still please."

You pointed to the small container and asked, "What's that?"

"It's a herbal ointment," she replied opening it and immediately your nose wrinkled up. That thing smelt! It was like burnt rotten vegetables! Eri chuckled at your reaction from the foil smelling scent punching your nose. "I know. It doesn't smell very good, but it's very good for cuts and bruises, and the smell fades the longer it's exposed to air." She turned back to your body. "Now please remain still. This shouldn't take too long."

You did as she asked and watched with a wrinkled nose as a hand of her just dipped into the small container and Eri began working on smearing the foul smelling paste on the various cuts, scrapes, and bruises covering your body. By the time she was done, your body was covered in random splotches of light green paste like some kind of spotted monster and you smelt of burnt, rotten veggies. You didn't like it, and your expression told Eri as much but if she took offense to it, she didn't show it as she just packed everything back into her small wooden box she carried around, and stood.

"It's not pleasant, but you should be healed within a few days time. Except for your leg." Her eyes gave your submerged leg a concerned look. "I'm afraid I'm unsure about that."

"What are you planning on doing until that 'doctor' arrives?"

"We'll keep your foot in cold water until the swelling subsides, and keep your leg as still as possible for the time being. It'd be best if you stayed off it."

"Oh swell," you grumbled leaning back against your chair with a frown. "Well what am I supposed to do with myself until then?"

"Lord Kyogai told me to assist you until Lord Enmu's arrival. So I will keep you company until he arrives and assist you with anything you need," Eri said with a small bow.

"Don't bow to me," you said holding up a hand to the spider like woman who blinked. "It's my fault you all got into this mess, it's bad enough you're being made to baby me after it all."

"Oh, it's not a bother at all," she insisted, "If it's Lord Kyogai's orders, then I'm happy to follow them. And I've never taken cared of a human before." All four of her eyes lit up. "This could be a worthwhile experience!"

...You gave a small huff. "Well...I've never been taken cared of by a demon before, so it might be an interesting experience too." It was then that your stomach made a noise that allowed both women to look at you and your cheeks lit up a pink in embarrassment. "Um...Excuse me?"

"Oh. Have you not eaten yet?"

"Uh. Not exactly. I sort of lost whatever food I had left when someone else ate it." When that one blue eyed demon ate them in exchange for leaving you alone.

"Oh. Well then I should go to the cooks and get you something." Nagi turned to the door but you blinked and held up a hand.

"N-No! It's ok. Really! Y-You don't have to do that!"

"With you unable to walk?" ...Oh. Well when she put it like that- Nagi was already turning her head of cinnamon brown hair to you and grabbing the door to slide it open carefully. "I'll return with something I'm sure a human would be able to digest! You just wait here."

Your voice thanked Nagi as she stepped out and the door slid back shut behind her, leaving both yourself and Eri standing there in silence listening to Nagi's footfalls until they too disappeared. And there you sat for a moment awkwardly, with the feeling of one leg half submerged in cold water (slowly going numb) and Eri fiddling around with the innards of her box while one pair of eyes scanned your body, most likely looking over her handy work with the paste slathered all the little injuries your body sustained from the previous night. The awkward silence continued onwards for a while longer as you sat there staring at the door as to not make things more awkward by staring rudely at her, but eventually you looked over at her when the silence became too much to bare.

"So...Eri?"

"Yes?," she cheerfully asked, her top pair of eyes switching from your arm to your face.

"You work for Mr. Kyogai?"

"My Lord? Absolutely! I've been with him every since I was sixty three!"

"Sixty three!?" Your jaw dropped and your eyes practically popped from your head from how much they widened, and before you could stop yourself, you said, "But you don't look a day past twenty four!"

"Aw.~ Thank you!" She smiled brightly a hand coming to pat her cheek proudly. "I always soak in a herbal bath twice a week. It's excellent for bright skin. I'm glad someone's finally noticed!"

You wanted to smack yourself for such a rude comment, but at least she didn't seem to take it as an insult and seemed rather pleased, so you rolled with it. "Er...Yeah. It must be one good recipe! Your skin's glowing!" She again huffed proudly nose held high. You cleared your throat and changed the subject quickly. "*ahem* So...How did you come to work for him?"

"...Oh." Eri's eyes slowly blinked at you before her face suddenly turned into a frown. Oops. Was that too personal? Did you insult her by accident? "Oh that...That's not a very happy story."

"Oh. I'm sorry if I was rude."

One of her four arms waved you off with a huff. "No. It's not you that annoys me. It's the very reason why I'm here that annoys me really." Her four eyes narrowed off at nothing and she gritted her fangs with a growl that made you flinch. Uh oh. She was getting angry. Maybe making small talk with a demon wasn't the best idea- "I was sent here by my parents to seduce his lordship."

Silence.

As if someone had shattered a glass window, you heard the sound in your mind. A thousand pieces of that shattered window playing in your mind as you stared at her. ".....What?"

She nodded. "I KNOW!! THAT'S WHAT I ASKED WHEN I WAS TOLD THAT!!" She shouted throwing two of her four arms up into the air, a third pointing at you. "I wanted to study medicine but NOO!! 'Eri!" She imitated a bad impression of a man's deep voice. "You're going to bring our family honor and marry a lord! No one wants a woman who couldn't keep house and raise future children. So stop with this ridiculous rebellious phase and let your mother ready you!' UGH!!!" Two hands curled her claws inwards as if she wanted to smash something as she snarled her fangs. "Nevermind Lord Kyogai HATES it when people try to court him anyways!"

"Uh-" You held up a hand opening your mouth-

"ALSO NEVERMIND I'M ALREADY ENGAGED TO SOMEONE!!!" ...You slowly closed your mouth and lowered your arm slowly to avoid her snapping at any sudden movement. You'd...rather not have anymore demons ire directed at you today. Eri continued her ranting. "Wow, Mother! I wonder WHY his Lordship turned down your proposal for the seventieth time! And I don't know, Father! I can't fathom WHY he wouldn't accept your offer for the hundredth time after ALL THE OTHER TIMES HE SAID NO!! HMM!! I WONDER WHY HE DIDN'T CHANGE HIS MIND AFTER ALL THE 'NO'S THE GAVE THE FIRST FEW TIMES!! OH!! SORRY!! WAS IT THE LACK OF COMMON SENSE OR MAYBE THE FACT YOU TWO ARE BOTH GREEDY DIRTBAGS THAT MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE!?"

At the end of her rant she was breathing heavily, open mouthed, and looked about ready to lunge herself at the nearest object, which you were afraid might be you as you leaned back wide eyed and unsure of what to make of the situation.

"Um...Your fiancé must me very nice?"

".....OH! He is!" Like a complete switch, she snapped to you and clasped her hands together against her cheek lovingly, a sudden loving smile replacing her snarl earlier making you blink at the sudden change in tone. "He is just the sweetest, most gentlest man in the world!~ He's so smart, and cute, and he always makes sure to give me the juiciest parts of the prey he hunts whenever I see him.~"

"Oh! That's very...loving of him.''

She chuckled. "It is isn't it. *sigh* He's waiting for my service to Lord Kyogai is over. Once I'm free to leave his servitude, we're getting married."....She then sighed sadly. "But sadly that won't be until next year and he lives in the swamps which is a little ways from here so I don't get to see him often. I'm extremely lucky he's been so patient waiting for me."

You looked at her for a long moment before sighing yourself. "Well that just means he loves you very much. I wish I was that lucky." Now THOSE words caught Eri's interest as she rose a brow and looked at your own sudden frown. Oh yes. You could relate to that. You were almost married off to someone who would've been a terrible husband after all. "I'd be extremely lucky to have someone who loved me enough to return back to him someday."

She slowly rose her brow higher with a hum. "Oh really?" You nodded and she slowly lowered her hands. "Did your parents try to marry you off too?"

Your head shook. "No, but my parents owed a lot of money to someone before they died leaving me with it." You clarified with a deep frown on your face. "In order to pay back the debt I was almost married to a man with a very bad temper." You explained without going into a lot of detail. "So I ran away."

"But...Wouldn't that be dishonorable?"

"I left them enough money to easily cover the debt but I still left. I didn't want to risk anyone making me marry someone I didn't love, and the only way I could do that was to run."....You shifted your numb leg with a wince then you felt a small throb from your ankle again. "But it doesn't seem fate really hasn't taken a liking to me." You made your point by gesturing to your leg. "Because my luck seems to keep going from bad to worst to down right hell."

"I wouldn't say all your luck is terrible. You were lucky enough to land in Lord Kyogai's good graces! Out of all the Lords, he's the most merciful and kind other than Lord Akaza! He'll make sure no harms come to you while you remain with us! Have no worry!"

"Yeah...I guess so...But you still haven't told me how you came to work for him."

"Oh! Didn't I tell you?" You shook your head. No. You literally ranted but you didn't say that out loud. "Lord Kyogai was interested in my knowledge of medicine. ..Or I should say my kind's medical practices." Her frown came back. "I don't actually know that much about humans or their bodies, so I don't have any knowledge of how to treat you."

Your brows rose in surprise. "So..You're saying he chose to hire you based on your skills?"

She nodded. "Of course. He said it was better to have a healer on hand in case anything ever happened. I'm sure glad he did, because I'm very sure my parents would've tried offering me to become one of Lord Douma's concubine's instead." She shivered. "But they were happy to just accept his offer of hiring me for a time."

"They were really alright with that?"

She nodded and with a very serious voice spoke eerily calm. "It brings a demon's family great honor if they should enter the servitude of a Lord Kizuki or the Master himself, much more if they enter the family of one. I'm very lucky."

"That's another thing..." You leaned forward a little bit and asked, "I was wondering something. Would it be ok if I ask you about it?"

"Ask and I'll answer you to the best of my abilities!''

Well..She did agree. "I've noticed everyone mentioning lords or masters around here. Isn't Kyogai the master of this house?"

THUD!!

The wooden box fell to the floor, making your body jump and F/c eyes blinked at the neat box. Like time slowed, the lid popped open and out tumbled many things. A roll of bandages bounced along the floor like a ball until it hit a wall. A few viles clinked with pretty glass sounds against one another, the gods granting their wish of not breaking. It was a waterfall of objects scattered around the polished floors. It was almost a pretty sight watching them all scatter across the floor until they all eventually rolled to a stop in various places across the wooden floor. It was then that silence echoed throughout the small room as you continued to stare at the objects in surprise at what just happened, until f/c eyes slowly trailed upwards to Eri to ask why she did that, but stopped when you saw her face.

Her terrified. Horror stricken. Down right scared face.

All four eyes were blown wide open in horror as she stared at you, as if she had just seen death itself reach it's menacing claws to claim her soul. Her mouth also wide open in what you could only think of as a silent scream without any sound. The horrified expression she suddenly shifted too caught you really off guard as you silently stared back at her in your own brand of shock. The tense pregnant silence continuing more until you eventually gained enough sense to ask.

"Are you..alright?"

"D-D-Don't say that that!," Eri's stuttering voice cried out and you leaned back on impact from the tone she had. It was as terrified as her face looked. She fussed head suddenly snapping around the empty room looking for-...for-...Something. Something you didn't know. "You mustn't say that! Y-Y-You mustn't let anyone hear you say that!"

...Your f/c eyes also slowly scanned the room the longer her four eyes dizzily looked about like a paranoid chicken, even swiveling your head around for the thing that wasn't there she was looking for. No one was in here besides yourself and herself, so you weren't sure what or who she was worried about. Your head was just looking behind yourself, at the plain futon which was again empty as again no one else was in the room with the two of you there, until two clawed hands suddenly slapped-grabbed your cheeks in a way that made you jump and your neck almost popped as Eri forced you to snap back around to her very serious-scared face, her other two hands grabbing your shoulders with enough force to keep you from running even if you tried, not that you could still being injured and judging by her strength, she was still very much stronger than yourself despite being about the same size and height.

"Listen to me very carefully," she hissed through her fangs in a hushed tone almost a whisper to your ears. "I know you have not been here long and you're not planning on staying here for longer than you must, but you must never, e v e r. Refer to Lord Kyogai or any other demon as Master." Her grip on your cheeks and shoulders increased. "You must not imply it, say it, or even think it. Lord Kyogai is that. Lord Kyogai. Lord of this home. Refer to him as anything. Owner. Lord. Boss. My one true love if you so wish! Only The Master is allowed to be called Master. He is the only Master above us all, no other matches his position. So I plead you. For everyone's safety including your own, NEVER say that word unless you're referring to our one and only Master."

Silence.

Eri lungs heaved now, each breath blowing over your own wide eyed face as she continued to pant and pant..until her bottom pair of eyes happened to glance down at her hands practically wrangling your face, and immediately let go with shaking hands.

"Ah...M-My apologies."

"Ouch." Your own hands reached up to rub your now sore cheeks. "That's...quite a reaction." You settled on saying.

"It's was the appropriate reaction!," she insisted frowning, "It's law no one calls anyone Master except to refer to The Master himself!"

"Who even IS your Master? I don't understand that. That's what I'm asking about. I'm not understanding."

"I just told you! The Master is the supreme ruler of all demons. What he says is obsolete." So...'The Master' was actually THE Master of all demons? "Under himself is the Twelve Kizuki, which includes Lord Kyogai himself."

"Twelve Kizuki?...Who're they?"

By now Eri had leaned down to pick her box back up and slowly collect her belongings, but one pair of eyes still stared at you as she spoke. "You mean you don't know? I thought everyone knew about our twelve lords." But she answered you anyways. "The Twelve Kizuki are the twelve lords right under the Master himself in terms of rank and status. They're all hand picked by the Master himself to help him with whatever he needs of them. Lord Kyogai is one of them, thus he takes his duties very seriously."

"So...It's like an emperor and his closest generals." Ok...That made a bit more sense to you.

"In a way. Humans wouldn't understand our society unless you chose to live under the Master's rule like so many already do, but it's better to heed my warnings while you're a guest here. It'll be safer for all involved."

You slowly nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

You didn't have the chance to ask Eri anything else because at that moment the sliding door opened again and Nagi stepped back in having returned with some kind of pork soup. Didn't matter to you, you were thankful for the distraction, and for the food for your empty stomach which rumbled at the smell of it. Eri didn't bring up anything you had discussed to Nagi and you figured it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie. You wouldn't be staying here long anyways, so you didn't need to stick your nose into things that didn't concern you. The sooner you left the better, and the less you knew the better you were as well. The rest of that day passed by as normal as you could be. Nagi and Eri kept you company and every few hours one of them would go get another big bucket of ice cold water for your ankle or get you more food. By the end of the day you could barely feel your leg from how long it had been dunked in the water. The warm blanket of the futon was very welcoming when they helped you move into it before leaving. Letting you close your eyes to the darkening skies hoping that above all else tomorrow that it would all just be a bad dream and you'd awaken to finish traveling your new found freedom.

Unfortunately fate still didn't seem to favor you because the next day was exactly the same. You woke hopeful but a throb of pain from your ankle followed by Eri opening the door cheerfully with another bowl of that pork soup stuff for breakfast and another giant bucket of that very cold well water. Screw your life. Rinse and repeat the cycle of everything the day before had, minus that Nagi was there. When you pointed that out to Eri she didn't seem bothered.

"Oh! She has other duties to attend to so she won't be back unless Lord Kyogai also commands her to assist me in taking care of you, which I need no further help as it's easy!"

"How is he anyways? Those cuts looked pretty deep."

"Oh don't worry about him," she assured you, "The lords are all powerful demons. They're regeneration abilities are greater than us below them. He should be fully healed by the end of today and be able to return the drum to his back!"

"....Drum?"

She nodded. "Yes. He has them all over his body. They are a part of his power."

Is that what those weird lumps sticking out of his body were!? DRUMS!? "Uh...I-I see. ...Where is he now?"

"He is in one of his studies working on documents the Master has sent him. By now someone must've brought him lunch. Why?"

"Have you treated his wounds today? Or changed his bandages?"

Eri seemed surprised at your questions but shook her head no. "No. I treated them yesterday, and he should be fully healed at the end of today anyways-"

"That's no excuse!" Your snap caught the lady demon off guard because he leaned back as you scowled. "Even if he's going to be like nothing happened in a few hours, it's still your duty to clean his wounds and take care of him UNTIL HE DOES GET BETTER!! You're his healer! You're supposed to help him!"

"My apologies." She slowly blinked. "But my lord has ordered me to care for you as you heal. I'm only simply following his orders."

A smack sound echoed throughout the mostly empty room as your facepalmed yourself. "Does everyone here lack common sense- You know what!?" Your arms reached down from your face to the sides of the chair as you pushed up against it. "Fine! I'll do it myself-OOF!"

Just as quickly you were forced back down by the stronger force of Eri, whom's hands were holding you back sitting in the chair by your shoulders. "Uh...Are you a fan of pain or all humans this insane? You can't walk! You're supposed to stay off your leg remember? It's healing still!"

"And are all demons this stubborn or is it just him?! He's going to hurt himself if he keeps this up!"

"Considering he's still alive, I highly doubt that-" She pushed you down again as you attempted to stand up, the cold water from bucket sloshing around and threatening to spill everywhere. "Will you remain still!?"

"UUUUUGGH!!! FINE!!" A hand was held up and pointed at her face making all four eyes go cross eyed at it. "Then we'll make a deal. You go change his bandages and treat his wounds and I'll stay here off my legs."

"I can't just leave you by yourself! What if something happens to you while I'm gone?"

You deadpanned. "What am I going to do? Magically fly out the window? I can't even walk! Where would I go? I doubt anyone's going to try anything anyways with your boss telling everyone not to. I'm going to remain here until you get back. I promise." She didn't look convinced. "You're going to have to leave me here alone anyways to get me lunch aren't you?"

She hummed. "I guess that's true...But I still don't like the thought of this-" You tried to get up again and she forcibly pushed you back in the chair. "Are you trying to get hurt!? Ok, ok! I'll do it! But if I get in trouble, this'll all be on you!"

"I'll accept whatever trouble I'll get in! Now heal him or I'll hop on one leg to him to do it myself!"

Eri huffed and released your shoulders, you crossed your arms in defiance looking back at her with the same expression. "You know, you are very stubborn."

"So are you. Now heal on, Healer."

"Fine. But don't say I didn't tell you so when we get in trouble."

You remained in that position arms crossed as Eri rolled her eyes, grabbed her wooden box, and then exited the room you both were in. What was seriously going through these demons' minds!? Did they not think to take care of themselves what so ever?! Besides. It's not as if you were going to go anywhere. You couldn't even crawl let alone walk with the pain your leg had. Nothing bad was going to happen from waiting here for a little while as Eri tended to her lord one last time. What's the worse that could happen?

....Oh you really weren't prepared for what trouble was currently heading your way with blue eyes and a violent temper to match it.

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

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

The sounds of a quill scratching against parchment was the only sounds that filled the air during this time other than the occasional footsteps that walked past his doorway, and the small clink of the chopsticks in his other hand. The smells of meats and the savory comfort of seasoned steak was one of the few luxuries he enjoyed during this stressful time of recounting yet another death certificate being sure to fill out all the important details of the man found dead and how his death played out. Another insect battling over a female this season. Gyutaro's work of course. Anyone approaching his sister was immediately eliminated. There were many foolish insects who dared to approach Upper Moon Six and demand partnership with her despite her brother's notorious protective streak. But it was the same thing every year. Sigh. But ironically that wasn't what made him both confused and angry.

Someone had gotten into a fight over a female.

That shouldn't have surprised him. There was millions of demons going through courtships right now during the season, and it wasn't uncommon for men to get into fights over a woman they liked enough and even kill each other over her (Stupid if you asked him), and he's seen plenty of death certificates in which that happened. And he would go through the same cycle as usual.

Get the news of someone's death. Fill out their certificate for the records. And then send a message to notify any next of kin in case none had heard of their loved ones' death.

But what confused him about this death was that it wasn't just any demon who killed this man. This man was killed by a Twelve Kizuki.

Now this shouldn't have surprised or confused him. It wasn't new or particularly unheard of for the Uppermoons to cause death. Gyutaro and his sister cause so many every January. Sometimes Akaza would kill a man defending a woman. Even he himself has had the occasional death by his own hands, he had ended two intruders lives not too long ago.  But this particular Uppermoon was one he wasn't expecting to see as a cause of death.

"Kaigaku. What have you been doing?"

Kaigaku had gotten into a fight with another demon and ended up killing him in their scuffle. Getting into a fight wasn't anything new to the youngest Kizuki, he got into them quite frequently. But his job was to keep the eastern border safe and keep any dangers OUT. Not to get into fights with random demons! ...He made a mental note to report to Kokushibo about his student's actions later. He hated to admit this...but he couldn't help but think that somehow this incident and the human was connected. Somehow that human was able to get lost within these woods without him knowing allegedly? There was no way Kaigaku didn't know about the human. He smelt his scent on her and he had given himself away very clearly.

"You have the human?"

Now why would he ask him if he had 'the human' if he wasn't looking for her or at the very least if he wasn't looking for her? Something didn't sit right with him but it's not like he could just ask Kaigaku about it, not unless he wanted to make the young idiot suspicious and the last thing he needed to deal with was this tempered brat on top of worrying about Enmu's eventual visit and an injured human to take care of ON TOP of all his work! So for now he'd let it go. He'll ask Kaigaku about this situation after the human was somewhere safely away, and when he wasn't swamped with work.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He didn't even bother to look up at the knocks on the door. "Come in but make it quick."

He still didn't look up as the door slid open and he felt the presence of someone walk into the room behind him. "Master Kyogai."

Scribble. Scrib-

He paused. Quill and chopsticks pausing in their motions. He turned to look over his shoulder. And was met with the sight of Eri bowing to him, various objects in her many arms.

"Eri? ..What are you doing here?" He frowned at her. "I gave you specific instructions to watch over the human."

A nervous expression immediately crossed over her still bowed face. "I-...Y-Y-You d-did, Sir. I didn't mishear you or disobey you I swear!"

"Then why are you here instead of taking care of the human? Is she causing trouble?"

She shook her head. "N-No, Sir! No trouble at all...But..s-s-she is very stubborn." He hummed as an indication for her to explain and two of her arms held out a small bowl of warmed water. "S-S-She insisted I come here to tend your wounds a second time or else she would come here and treat you herself. She started thrashing around when I held her down, so I had no choice but to agree to get her to stay! Please forgive me! I promise I shall not let this happen again with her I swear to you!"

Silence.

There was silence as he stood there waiting for the slow slap of reality to fully scrap across his face as he just continued to stare at her. ".....She what?"

"Y-Yes. I'm sorry. She seemed very concerned you were still hurt! I tried explaining to her you'll be perfectly fine, but she wouldn't listen. Please don't be too angry."

And again more silence. He stared at Eri wide eyed and flabbergasted. The human..insisted he be treated? Again? Despite the fact that he'd literally be fine even before this day was over? He opened his mouth-...Before closing it and turning back to his papers and food.

"I see...If it'll appease the human then do so, but do it quickly and get back to her. I don't want her unattended for too long." He didn't want to open this headache right now. He already had enough to worry about.

A sigh of relief faded from Eri's lips. "Y-Yes, Sir. I-I won't be long."

He let out a grunt in response and just continued on with his work, but he could hear and feel Eri work behind him. She settled herself behind him, right where the bandages that was placed on himself yesterday were, and it wasn't too long when he felt her hands tug at those bandages before with a firm fist, they were simply cut through by her claws and pulled from his body to be discarded later. Exposing his mostly healed slashes to her now. Like they both knew, they were indeed almost fully healed now. Nothing but mere thin cuts just along his back. They'll be fully gone within a few more hours, not even scars left behind. It really was nothing to worry about, but he wouldn't blame a human's simple mind for not understanding that. It was almost cute how she insisted he be treated...Almost. He was still annoyed his work was interrupted like this. The small sounds of water being disturbed reached the ears of the demon, and a moment later something warm, wet, and gentle was placed against the wounds and guided across them back and forth to clean them off before she redressed them. He gave a small grunt at her working on him but other than that, showed no signs of pain at her work. It was just sore now instead of throbbing pain like a day ago. Eri made quick work of cleaning them and drying them off before a terrible stench reached his nose. Eck! That ointment of hers. He wouldn't fight against her putting that foul smelling stuff on him but he always turned his nose up at how terrible it smelt.

He just turned his head the other direction just so it wouldn't have to smell it head on. Ah. One draw back to his incredible sense of smell. You had smelt it stronger than most other people. So he tried to focus his mind on other scents besides the foul smelling ointment Eri was now slathering all over his wounds. He focused hard on the other smells in the room. Eri, the food he had been previously eating, the ink still in it's ink stone waiting to be used, the goose in which his quill came from, the scents that wafted into the room now from the wide open door-

He froze up.

His muscles locked up. Rigid. As something faint. Something ...Bad entered here, and registered in his mind upon impact. Eri noticed it right away, pausing in her movements and looking up in question at her lord. Whom stared at the door.

"My lord?"

She gasped and fell backwards in shock when the lumbering form of the demon stood up, making his form appear a lot more menacing as he stared at the door.

"Kaigaku."

You leaned back in the chair blissfully unaware of the approaching footsteps stomping their way towards your room. It had been a little while since Eri had left and left you just sitting there with nothing to do but keep your hurt leg submerged in the cold bucket of water. There was literally nothing you could do to keep yourself entertained other than to day dream of everything you wanted to do once you got out of here with your newfound freedom. Maybe that's why you didn't hear the stomping coming straight towards your room-

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP-

Or the door being grabbed hard enough to leave claw indents in them.

SLAM!!

Making you gasp and whip your head to the thundering storm looming in the doorway only to meet blue eyes.

"It's about dam time I fucking found you." 

[cherrykindness]

let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Worthy

Word count: 4400

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and self-doubt

This was based on a prompt by a lovely anon. It's a little heavier than my usual writing style, but I hope it resonates with people who have felt the way the reader has felt in this fic. I certainly have been there.

Loki was alarmingly perceptive.

He had a real knack for identifying little quirks; subtle habits others exhibited that gave him more insight into their emotions than even they, themselves may understand.

Take, for example, Tony. It was a well-known fact that Tony liked to use sarcastic humor as a way to deflect in emotionally distressing situations. He worked in his lab into the young hours of the morning when he felt as though he’d failed, making up for his self-perceived shortcomings by throwing himself headfirst into his work and refusing to come up for air until he’d collapsed from exhaustion. Those things were obvious to anyone who knew the eccentric billionaire.

After living in the tower for some time, however, Loki began to notice smaller quirks, like the fact that he only drank whiskey on days he got into an argument with Steve. He learned to steer clear of the man when he saw a glass of whiskey in his hand, having no desire to have his rantings about the super soldier interrupting his reading.

Yes, Loki learned a lot about the other inhabitants living in the tower just by simple observation. Bucky always went for a jog on days when it rained, in an effort to prevent himself from succumbing to the gloominess of the weather. Peter was especially talkative only on days that he’d gotten to hang out with MJ at school, finding ways to casually slip her name into conversation.

By far, though, the person he observed most often was you.

You had captured his interest the moment you’d set foot in the tower, the day you’d joined the band of heroes. You had a way of looking at Loki that made him feel… welcome. Not that the others gave him particularly malicious looks any longer - they’d mostly gotten past his less than amicable history with all of them – but you just had a way of seeing him, not seeing through him as so many had tried to do in his life. You took an interest in his well-being in a way no one else did.

Quickly, Loki began to learn about small quirks in your daily routines. You made pancakes every Friday morning without fail, and only Friday morning. You always went to bed by 10pm on the dot at the latest, unless some task kept you awake past your bedtime. In the mornings, you had one cup of coffee, always with a splash of milk and one and a half teaspoons of sugar. If you stayed up too late one night, then the next morning you’d select the one mug out of the cabinet that was larger than all the others to pour a bit extra coffee, needing an extra dose of caffeine to get through those days.

Over time, though, he began to notice the smallest of traits that gave him surprisingly significant insight into how you were feeling at any given moment. You were a physically affectionate person normally, but on days that you came home after experiencing some terror while on a mission, you initiated more hugs, more friendly squeezes of the hand, as if you were just happy to have the people around you still in your life. Loki especially noticed those days. You weren’t physically affectionate toward him as often normally, likely due to his stand-offish demeanor when anyone else tried to so much as pat him on the back. But on a day that you’d had a scare in the field, even Loki wasn’t off-limits from your affectionate gestures. You’d reach out and squeeze his arm to emphasize a point, or lean your head on his shoulder, or place a comforting hand on his knee. He didn’t like that these gestures meant you’d been frightened, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the attention he received from you those particular days.

Music was a central part of your life. You never listened to anything out in the common areas without your headphones in, but when you were in your bedroom, you’d play music aloud to the room with the door closed. Loki’s bedroom shared a wall with yours, and so he was one of the few who knew what sort of music you listened to, being one of the only residents of the tower that could hear it. He quite enjoyed it, actually; it was quiet enough that he could still concentrate on his novel but loud enough that he, too, could hear and appreciate the songs.

You listened to a vast variety of genres of music. Some days, you turned on the radio and just listened to whatever was playing on the top hits stations. You’d shown him one of the online music streaming services once as well, pointing out the music ‘stations’ you had saved in your repertoire. Other days, you pulled up music saved on your laptop so you could hear more specific melodies.

Over time, Loki began to realize that your music selections weren’t as random as they originally seemed. He began to pay attention to what was going on in your day before you’d shut yourself away in your room and turn on your music, recognizing how much he could learn about how you were feeling just based on the type of music you selected.

If you made mention of having an assignment you needed to complete, inevitably he’d hear the flowing melodies of your classical music station when you’d disappeared into your room for the evening to work at your desk. He imagined it must help you clear your head, listening to the wordless crescendos of a piano as you toiled away at your assignment.

When you got to talk to one of your family members on the phone during the day, you’d play upbeat hit tunes, what Midgardians often referred to as ‘oldies’ which often made Loki chuckle (considering how recent these tunes were released relative to his own age). Nostalgia, he decided, must be your primary emotion on those days. He overheard you telling Wanda about how your father used to listen to those types of songs when you were a child. They must remind you of home, he thought.

Perhaps the most challenging one for Loki to figure out was when you listened to soundtracks from your favorite musicals. He quite liked that you enjoyed the theater, partial to live action plays over recorded films himself. There didn’t seem to be a pattern of events on the days you turned on your saved musical playlists, however. He supposed that you often listened to this sort of music after coming home from missions, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was you were feeling on those days.

He got his answer one day, when you received a phone call from your family to tell you that your childhood pet cat had passed away. You’d immediately broken down to tears, allowing Wanda to wrap her arms around you in a sympathetic hug. Crying into Wanda’s shoulder, you lamented that you hadn’t gone home last weekend to visit as planned; it would have been an opportunity to see your beloved cat one last time, and you were devastated you would never get that opportunity now. Loki’s heart shattered watching you break down like that, but you were well taken care of by the other Avengers, and eventually your tears stopped falling. That evening, he heard the melancholy soundtrack of one of your favorite musicals through the wall that bordered your bedroom, and he suddenly understood.

Thinking back, Loki realized the days he recalled hearing these melodies from your bedroom were days where something bad had happened to you. Days where you perceived yourself as having failed at something. A bad day of training, a fight with your sister on the phone, a parking ticket… You took everything in stride, never once letting anyone know how you were feeling deep down when in reality you were beating yourself up. It made sense, now that he thought about it. The songs you played when you were thinking negatively of yourself, they were bold and emotional… and he realized, now that he was paying more attention, they were often gloomy.

He decided that the next time he heard one of those songs echoing through his wall from your room, he would need to check in with you. It wasn’t fair of you to force yourself to bear the brunt of your self-doubt and frustration alone. Loki was well acquainted with that feeling, and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy; let alone the sweetest person he knew.

He didn’t have to wait very long to investigate and confirm his theory.

The following week, you’d gone on a mission with Steve, Bucky, and Nat. It was supposed to be simple – get in, get the data drive with the plans for the high-tech weaponry the enemy was developing, and get out. Easy.

When the four of you returned home, the first thing Loki noticed was Bucky leaning on Steve as he limped to the medical ward. He had a gash in his leg, nothing life-threatening, but it certainly appeared to be painful. As the super soldiers disappeared around the corner, you and Nat entered the room. Loki released a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he saw you unharmed. And, he supposed, he was happy to see Nat was uninjured as well.

Nat explained to the others what had happened – how everything was going according to plan until you and Bucky had gone in to break into the safe where the data drive was being stored. An alarm had tripped, and the enemy had swooped in full force to attack. You were able to get the safe open while the others fought them off, but in the scuffle, Bucky had taken a knife to the leg.

“This one still managed to keep cool and get the safe open in the middle of a brawl. Pretty impressive, I’d say,” Nat praised. You smiled, but as Loki observed you, he noticed it didn’t quite light up your face the way it usually did. He began to wonder what else happened while you were on this mission.

You remained in the common room for some time, listening to the group conversations and interjecting with your own thoughts when the time was right. To anyone else, you were behaving as your usual, happy self. So much so, in fact, that Loki began to wonder if he was imagining things when he thought he saw the ghost of self-doubt in your eyes when you’d arrived home.

After dinner, Loki watched as you quietly cleared your plate and disappeared down the hallway toward your room. He waited a few moments before following suit, making the excuse that he was tired and wanted to go lie down when his brother asked where he was off to. Your door was already shut when he arrived at his own room. As he stepped through his doorway, he heard the muffled tones of music through your door.

He was familiar with the song, although he’d never seen the musical it came from; he’d heard it through his bedroom wall before. The haunting melody, the steady strum of a guitar, the emotional swell of violin and vocals… He knew, the moment the song began, you weren’t as ok on the inside as you’d been on the outside only moments before.

Even before his brain registered what he was doing, Loki’s feet were taking him to stand in front of your door, his fist raised, knuckles knocking gently against the wood. He heard the volume of the music turn down, followed by shuffling and then footsteps before your door swung open. You appeared surprised to see him standing in the hallway. His heart sank when he noticed the sparkling of tears brimming in your eyes, which you quickly blinked away in favor of a friendly smile.

“May I come in?” Loki asked. You nodded, stepping aside so he could enter the room and closing the door behind him. He paused in the middle of the room, and you ducked past him to take a seat on your bed. He caught a glimpse of your hand rising to your face to wipe your eyes, despite the fact that you tried to hide it in the brief time you were facing your bed before turning around.

“So… what brings you to my room?” you asked, a false brightness in your voice. You reached for your laptop sitting on your bedspread to turn off your music, but Loki held his hand up to stop you.

“You can leave it on. It’s a beautiful melody.”

“You like it?” An honest smile crossed your face at his comment. He returned it with a smile of his own, an unfamiliar warmth to his features.

“I’m not familiar with the play. What is it from?”

“It’s a musical called Hadestown.” You beckoned Loki to come closer, pulling your laptop into your lap and turning it around so he could see the screen. “I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it, actually. It seems like it’d be right up your alley. It’s about the king of the underworld.” Lifting your head to look at him, you shot Loki a teasing grin, which he returned with an eye roll and a smirk. “This song is called Flowers.”

“It’s very emotional,” he observed, moving to take a seat beside you on the edge of your bed. “Beautiful, but troubled. Poignant.”

“Mm.” Your eyes were gazing across the room at nothing in particular, seemingly distracted. A heavy silence filled the room as the last notes of the song faded out. It lasted a few moments until a new song from the same soundtrack began to play. Loki turned his body a bit to face you more directly.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you tore your gaze away from the nonspecific spot on your bedroom wall you’d been staring at blankly to look at Loki.

“Yeah! Why… why do you ask?” There it was again. That forced smile, contrasted by the anguish in your eyes. Loki knew he had to tread carefully to get you to open up about whatever was bothering you. After all, he was no stranger to building walls around himself to hide his true feelings.

“It’s just… the last time I heard you listening to this music was when you learned of your cat’s passing.” He fixed his blue-green eyes on yours, watching as your façade faded and your smile fell. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about… whatever it is. But please know that I’m willing to listen if you do.”

Tears shimmered in your eyes again, and you let out a quiet sob before leaning forward to rest your forehead against Loki’s shoulder. He felt as though someone had wrenched his heart out of his chest, hearing you start to cry. Despite his uncertainty, never having initiated any sort of affectionate gesture with you, he raised his arms and wrapped them loosely around your shoulders. You leaned more heavily into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tight as if trying to anchor yourself to him. He squeezed you closer in response, placing a hand gently against the back of your head as your shoulders shook from your sobs.

Neither of you spoke for some time. There wasn’t a need. All Loki wanted in that moment was to be a source of comfort for you while you battled whatever demons you were fighting inside your own mind. This seemed to be cathartic for you, as your sobs gradually lessened and transformed into small, intermittent hiccups while you breathed deeply into his shoulder, your chest rising and falling more steadily with each breath. He moved his hand down from your hair to gently rub your back comfortingly, allowing you the chance to lift your head if you so desired. After a few more hiccups, you did.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you mumbled, releasing Loki with one of your arms to wipe your tears. You smiled, then, letting out a watery laugh. “I’m such a mess! I can’t believe I just ugly cried in front of you, I’m so sorry.”

“Do not be sorry,” he said firmly, leaning back just a bit to get a better look at your face but still holding you in his arms, his palm gliding up and down your back. “And you’re not ugly. Believe me, my brother and I have faced some hideous magical beings.”

“Wow. Are you comparing me to a monster? Am I on that level of attractiveness?” You had a bit more light in your eyes now, and your quivery smirk told him you were trying to kid around with him. He chuckled warmly.

“You know I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“I don’t know… it sounded like a pretty back-handed compliment. I’m feeling pretty insulted right now.”

“Pardon me – I am trying to make you feel better,” Loki exclaimed, feigning offence as he scratched playfully at your lower back to punctuate his point. You suddenly arched away from his touch, spluttering in surprise with wide eyes. Loki laughed at your sudden reaction. “Whahat was that??”

“What was what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, unwinding your arms from around Loki and moving to scoot away a bit. Loki held fast, unwilling to let this go. He was reasonably certain he knew what had happened, and if you were willing to start joking around with him, he was more than happy to give you a reason to laugh.

“I think you do,” he argued teasingly, repeating the same motion with his fingers against your back, lightening his touch now that he knew better. You bit your bottom lip, shaking your head. With a smirk, Loki let his fingers trail closer to your side, feeling your muscles tense beneath his fingertips. “Come, now. You and I both know you could use a laugh right now.”

“N-no, I-I’m good, actually,” you stammered, leaning involuntarily away from his tickling fingers. He moved to grasp your side, gently kneading the soft skin, and eliciting a squeak.

“Tell me, darling – where is the spot that will make you laugh?”

“I’m n-not t-telling you!” You reached down and grabbed his hand with yours, trying (and failing) to push it away from your side. If anything, it made Loki want to dig his fingers in more, latching onto your side with more intent. For good measure, he brought his other hand around to your other side, scratching gently through your T-shirt with one hand while harshly pinching with the other. Your free hand shot down to close around his other wrist, shaking your head frantically.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to find it myself. I know it must be here somewhere.” Loki was enjoying watching your face darken as he teased you, combined with the exertion of withholding the laughter that was clearly threatening to burst out at any moment. “I’ll just need to change tactics.”

“MMPH!” He lowered his hands to rest on your knees, pinching and squeezing at the muscle just above your kneecap. Chuckling, he watched as you gave up on pushing his hands away and instead brought a hand up to cover your mouth.

“How am I to know if you’re about to laugh with your hand in the way?” Loki shot one hand up under the arm you’d just lifted, pressing his fingertips into the hollow as you clamped your arm back down to your side, breathy laughs escaping through your nose. “Ah-ha… could this be the spot?”

“MM-MM,” you shook your head wildly, keeping your mouth shut tight, barely suppressing your giggles now. Loki brought his other hand up from your knee to your hip, drilling his thumb into the bone with his fingers squeezing into your lower side. Your shoulders were shaking from withholding your laughter, and Loki knew he was close to breaking through your stubborn resolve. Pausing his tickling fingers for a moment to let you breathe, he stole the chance to get a good look at your face.

There wasn’t even a hint of sadness any longer, replaced by a vibrant, tight-lipped smile, your cheeks lifted so much your eyes narrowed slightly. The sparkling in your eyes was no longer caused by tears of frustration, but tears of mirth from trying so hard not to laugh. Despite your resolute determination not to laugh, you made no moves to stand and run away from Loki’s torment. He interpreted the gesture as you enjoying this more than you were admitting, and he, too, was having fun.

“Let’s see here…” Loki spoke aloud in mock thought, placing his hands gently just above your hips and slowly sliding them up the length of your sides. Eyes trained on your face, he analyzed every tiny muscle movement as his fingertips traced along your shirt. At your sides, the corners of your mouth turned upward in an involuntary smile. Just a few inches higher, though, you had to fight to keep yourself from squeezing your eyes shut, visibly relaxing a bit once his hands had passed over your bottom few ribs.

Oh, he had you now.

“For someone so good at hiding their emotions, you’ve given me quite a bit of information with just your facial expressions,” Loki teased you, watching with amusement as your eyes widened when he allowed his hands to rest on your lower ribs. “I’d wager I can draw a laugh out of you… right… about…” Sliding his fingertips from the front to the back of those hypersensitive bottom ribs, he pressed them in right where your sides met your back. He smirked as you began to squirm a bit, even before he’d actually begun to tickle you there. “… Here we are.”

“W-wait, I don’t think… you can’t… but…”

“I’m sorry, darling, I can’t understand your incoherent babbling. Are you flustered?” Loki laughed low in his throat in amusement when you let out a tiny whine, no longer even trying to form a coherent sentence. “Now then… let’s hear that bright laugh of yours.”

“No, noho, no, NAHHAHA!” The giggles finally burst out of your mouth, quickly evolving into desperate ticklish laughter as Loki scratched along the spot that made you panic. You leaned backward and fell onto the bed, Loki following you down, unrelenting in his torment. He pinched, vibrated, and prodded at the spot, not wanting to let you get too used to one sensation and lose that vibrant laugh of yours. As you began to grow more silent, he let up on his tickling fingers, moving instead to spider them gently across your belly to draw out the sweetest giggles from your lips.

“Feeling better?” Loki asked. You nodded, grasping his hands, and lacing your fingers through his to protect your belly. After a moment, you regained the strength to sit back up, letting out a residual giggle or two here and there. “If you ever decide you want to talk about what it is that’s bothering you, just know that I’m willing to listen. I may understand more than you know.”

You took a steadying breath, still coming down a bit from your euphoric state. Loki watched you patiently, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with a gentle smile on his face.

“It was my fault Bucky got hurt,” you sighed. “I tripped an alarm. I… I should have known better. I knew there would be security measures in place. To anyone else, the sensor would have been so obvious.” You looked down into your lap, playing with your fingers absently. “It just feels like no matter how hard I try; I’ll never measure up to being an Avenger. I’ll never understand why they chose me. I’m just a liability.”

Loki’s heart ached to see the hurt in your eyes. More than anything, though, he saw his own reflection in your expression. He knew how you felt, he’d been in your shoes. Always trying to live up to his brother’s legacy, always trying to prove himself worthy of being king, of being a prince, of being his father’s son for norns sake… Yes, if there was anyone in this tower who understood exactly how you were feeling in this moment, it was Loki.

He reached out and took your hand in his, pressing his other hand down over the top of it. You allowed your gaze to lift from your lap to look at Loki’s face, and he gave you a firm, intense look.

“You are worthy of the team. There will be days that everything you do will make you feel as though you’re not. But please, understand that they would never have chosen you if they didn’t see something special in you.” He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “You will make mistakes. All of us do. I’ve made more mistakes in my life than I can count. And yet, it seems you’ve still deemed me worthy enough to be your friend. Mistakes do not define you. It’s how you build yourself back up and learn from your missteps. It only makes you stronger.” Your eyes were swimming with emotion now, a small smile on your face as a tear slid down your cheek. “You are a fierce, strong, caring, gentle person. Never doubt that you are worthy.”

“Thanks, Loki.” You brought your free hand up to your face to swipe the lone tear from your cheek. Inhaling deeply, you sighed as your mind finally appeared to be at ease. “Would you like to hear more of the soundtrack? I have all of the songs.”

“Please.” Loki released your hand, allowing you to pull up another song on your laptop to show him. You turned your head as the song was loading on the screen to look at him once again, an excited gleam in your eyes.

“Maybe, someday, you can come with me and see the show on Broadway? I think you’d really like it.”

Loki felt his heart swell at your invitation, grinning ear to ear. “I would love nothing more.”

[rowansparrow]

Juke Box Hero: A Rose Story

This is SO STUPID LMAO But I hope you guys like it anyway. I’m back on my bullshit and I am here to provide you with a little story based off THIS POST. Anon, thank you for your service, because this was very, very fun. 

This snippet takes place during Chapter Seven of BAON, during the flashback when Reader is meeting Rex for the first time and Rose and Co. are stuck cleaning up the barracks. You don’t necessarily have to have read it for this to make sense, but the right context might be neat. 

Also, for timeline purposes/in BAON, Tup and Dogma technically never met Rose, as they weren’t part of the 501st before he died, but I’m including them in this because I make the rules and I wanted to. 

Also Denal’s here because I think he’s a funky dude and deserves more content.

The clones deserve to dance and have fun and who’s gonna write them doing that if it ain’t me? 

Rating: Mature-ish? There are some dirty jokes and swearing but mostly it’s Just fun shenanigans with Rose and Bros. 

(Also I spent a TON of time picking everyone’s songs so pls tell me what you think of my selections lmao).

I’m tagging everyone from the BAON tag list in case you’re interested. Enjoy!

In retrospect, perhaps Rose should have put a stop to the loth cat situation – or as Hardcase called it, Operation: P.U.S.S.Y. He claimed it was an abbreviation for “Petting Unusually Sweet Strays, Yeah!”

“You have to call it something else.” Rose had said at the time, staring at the loth cat cradled protectively in Hardcase’s arms.

“But you’re not saying no?” Hardcase prompted eagerly, already bouncing lightly on his heels.

“Just…” Rose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… clean up after it? And if it breaks anything, it’s on you, and for the love of Force, don’t get caught.”

Now, as the Lieutenant surveyed the disarray that had befallen the barracks, and the company of very disgruntled subordinates, he was reconsidering his earlier leniency.

“I feel as the acting SIC, you’re the one who should be taking the flak for this, not the entire company.” Jesse grumbled, glaring at Lieutenant Rose over his shoulder as he scrubbed at the floor of the barracks.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who brought a pregnant loth-cat into the barracks in the first place.” Rose replied, straightening up for a moment where he’d been hunched over, his back cracking as he moved.

“Well, you didn’t fight me very hard on it!” Hardcase protested. “And I didn’t know Beans was pregnant at the time! I didn’t even know she was a girl!”

His explanation only earned him several slugs to the arm from nearby vode.

“And just because I’m second-in-command does not make me exempt from the Captain’s wrath.” Rose added. “You didn’t get the dressing-down, you just have to carry out the punishment with me.”

“Hang on, I thought we agreed the cat’s name was going to be Road Rash?” Coric asked.

“That’s unladylike.” Said Denal. “And rude. She can’t help her scars.”

“And Beans is ladylike?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“She likes it! And her kits looked like beans when they came out too!”

Rose shook his head fondly at his men as they bickered. At least they weren’t complaining anymore.

In truth, he was surprised the situation had been managed as long as it had been. They’d lasted almost a full three weeks without anyone figuring out they were hiding a cat in the barracks. Of course, the kittens made it much harder, and they could only hide them in overturned helmets during inspections for so many days before the helmets started to mewl.

And once Beans threw a tantrum over not having her kits with her, it was game over. She’d knocked over an entire can of armor paint in her wrath, and blue pawprints and large paint puddles coated the durasteel of the barracks, and a few of the bunks had claw and bite marks in the fabric.

“It’ll take us an hour, maybe more, to clean this whole mess up.” Fives complained, looking around the barracks forlornly. He had a nasty scratch just under his eye from finally snatching Beans up in her rampage. “Kriff. I was excited to go out tonight.”

“Not to mention after we finish here the Captain said we had to go take over latrine and canteen detail from other battalions.”

“Then I guess you better get scrubbing.” Kix said absently, thumbing through medical requisition forms on his datapad and sitting cross-legged on one of the few bunks that didn’t have blue paw prints streaked across it.

“Why aren’t you helping? You’re part of the company too.” Echo said. “Fives and I are ARC troopers, if anyone here should be exempt from company-wide punishments, it’s us.”

“I’m not helping because I didn’t participate.” Kix replied, not looking up from his ‘pad.

“The kark you didn’t, you delivered the kits!” Fives snapped.

“Well, Captain Rex didn’t catch me, so.”

“That’s because you went and hid in the medbay and didn’t warn the rest of us he was coming.” Tup muttered under his breath.

“Not true. I sent Jesse a comm.” Kix said, finally looking up only to shrug and return to his work. “Which he didn’t check, and that’s not my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter who was involved and who wasn’t involved.” Dogma piped up. “Clearly, because if it did, I wouldn’t be here either.”

“We know.” Said Jesse and Fives in unison.

Rose sighed, his eyes drifting forlornly to his bunk. He spotted his footlocker sticking halfway out from underneath the durasteel, and he lit up. He opened it quickly, pulling out a beat-up radio he’d gotten at a market stall during one of his first deployments. He’d had to trade a droid popper and half his rations for it – Rex had not been pleased about it when he found out – but it was worth the two-day latrine rotation he’d gotten as punishment.

He’d already downloaded several songs off the HoloNet, along with a few channel recordings of past BoloBall games. Even if he knew who won them, it was still something to listen to on long stints on cruisers.

“What’cha doing, Lieutenant?” Tup asked, peeking around the corner as Rose straightened back up, fumbling with the little radio for a moment and propping it up on one of the bunks so the music could fill the whole room.

“No. NO! No.” Jesse jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant as he saw him set up the radio. “No. Absolutely not. I have had enough of your osik-brained, Force-forsaken, whack-ass music to last me a lifetime.”

Kix chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other trooper. “You listen exclusively to electronic dance music. Even when we aren’t at 79s. You have no room to talk.”

“This is better than that.” Rose promised, dialing up the volume. “This is the kind of stuff you’d find on the jukebox at Dex’s Diner.” He grinned. Dex was personal friends with General Kenobi, and was one of the few Coruscant establishments that was friendly to clones, as long as they behaved themselves. Rose had gone there with his brothers a handful of times, and even Anakin had dragged his Padawan Ahsoka, Rose, and Rex along once.

“You have a radio?” Dogma frowned. “Isn’t that contraband, sir?”

“Relax, it’s an old prewar-era radio, it’s not hurting anything.” Fives drawled, knocking Dogma lightly on the shoulder. “What’re you gonna play, sir?”

“Let’s see…” Rose filtered through his downloads, and grinned wider, pressing play.

Immediately, soft music rang through the barracks, and Jesse smacked his head against the bunk, groaning loudly.

“I’m begging you, Lieutenant.” Jesse said. “I’m begging.”

Rose was already swaying his hips, bending over to grab Jesse by the chin.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.” Rose serenaded him.

Jesse swatted Rose’s hand away, and Rose turned, swinging around on the side of the bunk and pointing to Fives this time. “Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.”

Fives grinned, joining in even as he stumbled slightly over the words.

“There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself, this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.”

Kix was drumming his fingers on his datapad, nodding along and singing under his breath.

“Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say…”

“This is too slow.” Echo griped, rising to his feet and stepping over Dogma, who was still stubbornly scrubbing away at the barrack floors and refusing to engage even as the rest of the clones began quietly singing along with the chorus.

The ARC Trooper fiddled with the dial for a moment, scrolling through Rose’s music and selecting another song, already grinning as the chanting started through the speakers and eventually rippled through the ranks of the 501st.

“STOP.” Jesse barked, trying to kick Fives as the other ARC trooper hopped to his feet, stomping his feet and chanting along. “STOP, I HATE THIS ONE!”

Rose and Hardcase were chanting too, and Coric had started clapping his hands on an overturned bucket, a few shinies clapping their hands together as Echo shook his ass, kama swaying as he climbed up onto a nearby table. He scooped up a mop, pulling the handle to his mouth.

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me.” He pointed to Kix, grinding against the handle. “Girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me.”

Kix gave him the finger, and Echo pointed to Fives, who was still chanting with the others but was now holding up his helmet, recording the whole thing. Echo amped up his performance.

“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright. I’m hooked on a feeling!”

Tup whooped from where he’d moved to sit on one of the bunks. Dogma shot him a nasty look, which he ignored in favor of watching Echo strut on the table.

“I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me. Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind. Girl you got me thirsty for another cup of wine.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have a good one.” Fives shoved his helmet at Hardcase, letting him take over recording as he scrambled to the radio, quickly turning the dial once again and elbowing Echo off the table as fast, loud, angry guitars shredded through the barracks.

Jesse seemed to perk up just slightly, and any of the 501st troopers who were still trying to actually clean – save for Dogma – had abandoned their supplies and had elected to dance instead, crowding the table and forming a makeshift mosh pit.

Fives was nothing if not a showman, and when he snatched the mop from Echo, he performed.

“When I get high, I get high on speed. Top fuel funny car’s a drug for me, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

He stomped his foot hard on the table, flipping his head back and running one hand messily through his hair.

“Always got the cops coming after me, custom-built bike doing 103, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Rose laughed, watching as Fives looked at the helmet Hardcase was hoisting up over the crowd, singing into the camera and rolling his shoulders back.

“Ooh, are ya ready, girls? Ooh, are you ready now? Woah, yeah! Kickstart my heart, baby give it a start. Woah, yeah! Baby! Kickstart my heart, hope it never stops. Woah, yeah, baby yeah!”

The clones joined him for the chorus, and then Fives dropped to his knees like he’d seen rockers do on the HoloNet, high fiving the nearest vode. Dogma was still stubbornly trying to clean up the barracks, but had moved on to one of the far corners, only giving the rest of his battalion the occasional side-eye.

“Skydive naked from an aeroplane, or a lady with a body from outer space, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart.” He wiggled his hips as he straightened back up, biting his lip through a grin and dropping his hand to his hips and shaking his fist obscenely, as though he was jerking himself off.

“Say I got trouble, trouble in my eyes, I’m just looking for another good time, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Before Fives could do something else profane – or possibly attempt to crowd-surf and give Rose a handful of incident reports to fill out, the music suddenly shifted, and all heads turned to the radio.

Kix was smirking. He’d divested himself of the top half of his armor, instead electing to shimmy his way up onto the table in just the upper half of his blacks and lower armor plates. Fives exited, rejoining the crowd as Kix leveled a sultry look at the camera for just a moment before turning his back on the crowd.

“Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don’t know where I am goin’ to. Silk suit, black tie, I don’t need a reason why.”

He spun quickly, switching his grip on the mop handle as though he was holding a woman in his arms, dipping it low towards the crowd as he sang.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives and Echo were howling with laughter, and Hardcase wolf-whistled loud enough that Rose’s ears rang. Even Jesse had finally joined in, nodding his head along to the music and trying to bite back a grin. Tup had left the crowd to instead attempt to pull Dogma in, and Denal had rounded up a few newer members and was trying to push them closer to the front.

Kix unzipped the top half of his blacks, doing a slow strip-tease in time with the music.

“Gold watch, diamond ring, I ain’t missin’, not a single thing. And cufflinks, stickpin, when I step out I’mma do you in.” Kix shrugged out of his blacks and rolled his hips along the mop handle, dropping his ass low and slowly dragging himself back up, grinding against the handle.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives actually pretended to faint, falling backwards into Echo, who was laughing so hard that he fell over with him.

“ALRIGHT!” Dogma shouted over the music, elbowing his way through the crowd with Tup following anxiously behind him. Dogma firmly stopped the music, hands on his hips as he turned to face the rest of his brothers, who’d begun to boo.

“We have orders,” Dogma reminded them. “This is a punishment, not a party. When we finish here, we’re supposed to clean the shower block, and then we’re supposed to report to the mess hall and take over the canteen cleanup shifts.”

“We know the orders, Dogma.” Rose said, putting a hand on the younger trooper’s shoulder. “There’s no harm in having fun while you work.”

“I’m the only one still working.” Dogma grumbled.

“Alright, alright, we’ll turn it low for now, and we’ll finish up in here, then we can bring the radio with us when we move to the refreshers and canteen. Fair?” He asked, turning to the rest of the men. There were a few muttered responses, and Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out.” He said. “We are cleaning this mess up, correct gentlemen?”

“Sir yes sir!” They all answered quickly, hurrying back to work.

Rose chuckled, shifting the music to something a little calmer, the gentle piano wafting through the barracks as they continued to clean up.

Denal’s head perked up as soon as he heard the piano start, and while he didn’t climb up onto the table like his brothers had, he smiled to himself, turning back towards the spot he was scrubbing and singing to the durasteel floor.

“I'm sailing away. Set an open course for the Virgin Sea.”

Echo hummed, closing his eyes and rocking back on his heels for a moment, listening to his older vod croon.

“'Cause I've got to be free. Free to face the life that's ahead of me.” Denal continued, his voice soft but steady. “On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore and I'll try, oh Lord I'll try… to carry on.”

Somebody whistled, a few scattered claps ringing through the barracks. Coric picked up where Denal left off.

“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad.” He sang. “I think of childhood friends, and the dreams we had.”

Tup glanced to Dogma, who was practically seething as he scrubbed at the same spot on the floor that he’d been working on for the past several minutes. “You like this song, don’t you, Dogma?”

“No I don’t. Shut up.”

“Join in. They won’t mind.” Tup encouraged.

“No.”

“We live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.” Sang Coric. “But we'll try best that we can to carry on!”

The music picked up, and Jesse shot Rose a look.

“This is a deceptively fast song.” He said.

“It sneaks up on ya.” Rose chuckled.

The barracks devolved into chaos once again, the clones all screaming along to the lyrics, even the ones who didn’t know the words picked it up quickly, encouraged by their brothers.

Despite the distractions, they finally finished cleaning the barracks, and Rose plucked the radio from where he’d stashed it, leading the way down the hallway towards the refreshers. The 501st were especially rowdy in the quiet halls – most of the barracks were empty, the clones who weren’t being punished for loth-cat related shenanigans were taking advantage of the shore leave.

When they opened the door to the shower block, they encountered a few members of the 212th already in there, cleaning up.

“Pack it in, lads.” Rose announced. “We’re taking over for you.”

“What? Why?” Boil asked, leaning on a mop and raising an eyebrow. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Yes.” Hardcase replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“All of you?” Waxer poked his head out from inside one of the refresher stalls, Crys and Wooley pausing from where they were wiping down countertops.

“Yeah, it’s Hardcase’s fault. As usual.” Jesse said, strolling over to Boil and plucking the mop from his hands. “We’re supposed to take over your shifts.”

“Good, I was hoping to get to 79’s tonight before last call. I hear they’ve got purple spotchka.” Boil said excitedly, glancing at Waxer over his shoulder.

“We can help you finish.” Waxer said, immediately raining on his brother’s parade. “There isn’t much left to do anyway.”

“You sure?” Rose asked. “It’s technically a punishment -.”

“Nah, it’s fine, there really isn’t much left, aside from the toilets.” He grinned. “But you boys can handle those.”

“Fair enough.” Rose chuckled, nodding over his shoulder to his men. Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase were in a heated four-way battle of rock, flimsi, cutters in order to determine who had to clean the toilets first.

“What’s that?” One trooper Rose didn’t recognize asked, pointing to his hand.

“It’s a radio!” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m err… technically not supposed to have it. But we’ve been listening to music while we worked.” He set it up on the countertop. “Do you have a favorite song…?”

“Spitter.” The 212th trooper supplied helpfully.

“Spitter.” Rose repeated, chuckling to himself and wondering how the hell he’d earned that name. “Do you have a favorite song?”

“I don’t know the name of it.” The trooper admitted shyly. “But – but it’s the one they play on the hits channel all the time. I hear it playing in the admiral’s quarters on the Negotiator all the time.”

“I know that one!” Waxer said excitedly, nodding to Rose. “It’s the one Commander Cody likes. You were playing it in the hangar a few weeks ago when our flight detail overlapped.”

“I remember.” Rose smiled, and turned the song on.

Immediately, every head, including Dogma’s, perked up at the familiar tune. Fives clapped his hands together, getting them started.

“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.”

The younger trooper, Spitter, lit up and followed it up.

“When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

Waxer elbowed Boil, trying to get him to join in, but the other trooper shook his head and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes even as Waxer sang.

“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.”

Their voices carried through the refresher’s tiled walls, and Jesse picked up where Waxer left off.

“And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you.”

When the chorus rolled around, everyone joined in, their voices bouncing off the walls around them.

“But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.”

“When I’m working,” Kix began, offering a hand to Wooley and giving him a playful spin. “Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you.”

“And when the money comes in for the work I do, I’ll pass almost every penny on to you.” Wooley laughed, shoving Kix away with a grin.

“When I come home,” Tup piped up quickly, before someone else could. “Oh, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you.”

“And if I grow old,” Crys smirked, shaking his shoulders at Fives, who punched him playfully in the arms and joined in, singing the line in unison. “Well, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you.”

The chorus returned, and they sang with even more feeling than before, dancing and tossing their heads back, shouting along to the words and nearly drowning out the music itself as they sang.

As the final verse approached, Waxer sidled up next to Boil, giving him a hopeful look. His brother sighed, scrubbing a hand bitterly over his face and reluctantly joined in.

“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.” He sang.

“And when I’m dreaming,” Echo called. “Well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.”

“And when I go out, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.” Fives followed.

“And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.” Denal said.

Tup took a deep breath, preparing to finish off the verse, but he was cut off.

“I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home,” Dogma’s voice was shaky as all eyes turned to him, and he finished in a squeak. “With you.”

The room erupted in cheers, Fives catching Dogma under his arm and giving him a noogie as the chorus rang out once again, everyone shouting along to the lyrics together.

When the song ended, and the cleanup was done, the 212th parted ways with the 501st, the brothers patting one another on the back and jeering affectionately at one another now that the song and dance was done.

“If you finish with everything before final call, catch up with us at 79’s.” Boil called over his shoulder. “We can give the vode there a run for their money with our rendition of that song.”

“Count on it.” Rose chuckled, giving the other company a little salute before leading his men on towards the canteen.

The canteen, blessedly, was empty, and most of it was already clean. All they really had to do was wipe everything down, mop, and then make sure the kitchen was well-prepped for the next day.

“I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dogma.” Echo said affectionately, knocking his younger vod playfully in the shoulder as they walked.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dogma muttered, his ears burning as he pushed into the canteen, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the nearby supply closet.

“Who’s turn was it for a solo?” Fives asked, watching as Rose started to set up the radio above one of the food windows so it could project into the entire cafeteria.

“I think Dogma should go.” Kix grinned. “Now that we know he’s got some pipes.”

“Absolutely not.” Dogma said immediately, not looking up from where he was wiping down tables.

“I can go first?” Tup offered, raising his hand sheepishly. Dogma shot him another stern look, but Tup was already wandering over to the radio, moving the dial and tentatively pressing play.

Upbeat music filled the canteen, and the other troopers cheered as Fives ushered Tup over to the nearest table, boosting him up on top of it and then thrusting a mop into his hands. Hardcase was already fumbling with the helmet again, trying to get a recording as Tup tapped his foot along with the beat, nodding his head as he found his rhythm.

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say. I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.”

Fives was leading other troopers in pounding the surrounding tables in time with the drumbeats while Echo was leading another group to clap in time.

“I ain’t nothing but tired! Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself.” Tup flashed the camera a grin, reaching up and pulling his hair tie out, shaking his wild curls loose around his head. “Hey there baby, I could use just a little help.”

Jesse whistled, and Dogma had stopped cleaning and was watching his brother, the slightest smile pulling at his lips.

“You can’t start a fire, can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

Tup shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his head back and jerking his hips.

“Messages keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ‘round my place. I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”

He swayed his hips again, and Hardcase shoved the camera at Kix instead so he could join in the clapping.

“Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this. There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is.”

He hopped off the table, instead taking Dogma’s hand and dragging him towards the makeshift stage.

“You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

He pushed the mop into Dogma’s hands instead, beaming at him as he scurried off the table, sprinting over to the radio and quickly changing the song.

Immediately, slow guitar started but quickly escalated into heavy drums and fast riffs. Dogma’s cheeks turned a darker shade, and he looked frantically to Tup, trying to climb back down off the stage.

“No, no, come on!” Fives shouted, trying to body block Dogma from getting down. “Come on, you got this!”

The lyrics began, and Dogma sang along, his mouth barely moving, voice almost imperceptible.

“Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken… and the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?”

“Come on!” Tup called to him. “You LOVE this song! Let ‘em hear it!”

Dogma grit his teeth, his voice gaining strength. “But you see, it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head they are fighting.”

He stomped his foot on the table, practically snarling out the words. “With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, in your head, in your head they are crying.”

He threw his head back, and for not the first time that night, the radio was drowned out by cheers.

“In your head! In your head! Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie!”

Dogma climbed off the table quickly, his ears and cheeks burning but a small smile was on his face, even as he was smothered by Hardcase, Fives, Tup, and Echo swarming him with hugs and rubbing his head affectionately.

Jesse climbed up onto the table next, picking up the discarded mop and clearing his throat.

“I would just like to dedicate this song to the gorgeous woman I picked up at 79s last week.” He drawled, nodding once to Kix, who was hovering knowingly by the radio. He nodded once to the helmet, which was now stationed on a nearby table, still recording. “Darling, you had the best pair of tits I have ever seen in my entire life, and you had the mouth of an angel and the coochie of a devil.”

Fives whistled, and Coric snickered. Rose rolled his eyes.

“So, babygirl, this one is for you.”

Kix turned on the radio, and Jesse grinned.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”

Guitar rang out through the mess hall, and Jesse bit his lip, rolling his hips as he leaned slightly off the edge of the table.

“An angel’s smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free.”

He dropped into a crouch, singing directly into the camera.

“Whoa, you’re a loaded gun, whoa, there’s nowhere to run, no one can save me, the damage is done!”

He jumped to his feet, the table shaking under him as he landed.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. You give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name!” He turned his back on the crowd, dropping low again and slowly rising, shaking his ass. “Yeah you give love…”

He looked over his shoulder, tossing the camera a wink. “…a bad name.”

The music changed abruptly, and for a moment Jesse looked pissed. “What the hell, ‘Case?”

But his expression shifted as Hardcase rushed to the table, pushing his brother out of the way and taking the mop from him. The crowd cheered all over again as Jesse climbed down, brothers slapping him on the shoulders as Hardcase’s song started up.

“We finish strong, right vode?” He asked cheekily.

“We still have to finish cleaning!” Dogma called back.

Hardcase only smirked in response, and sang quickly to keep up with the lightning fast lyrics.

“Backstroking lover always hiding ‘neath the cover, can I talk to you, my daddy say. He said, you ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’re down on a muff and then you’re sure to be a-changin’ your ways.”

He cupped his codpiece, bucking his hips forward into his own hand.

“I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, all the times I can reminisce. ‘Cos the best things of lovin’ with her sister and her cousin only started with a little kiss, like this!”

He swung his arms wide, shaking his ass in time with the music and stuck his tongue out, having the time of his life.

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

He walked backwards along the table, rolling his shoulders back as he moved.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

The rest of the 501st joined in with him, repeating the chorus of “Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way!” over and over again, Hardcase taking over again as the next verse began.

“School girl sweetie was the sassy kinda classy, little skirt’s climbing way up her knees. There was three young ladies in the school gym locker when I noticed they was lookin’ at me.”

He ran his hands along his thigh, mimicking raising a skirt.

“I was a high school loser, never made it with a lady ‘til the boys told me something I missed. Then my next-door neighbor with a daughter had a favor so I gave her just a little kiss, like this!”

“Do you think he has any idea what he’s singing about?” Kix asked Rose, leaning back against the counter and chuckling.

He watched as Hardcase went back to grabbing his own crotch, dry-humping the air and hummed.

“I’d say most likely.”

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

Hardcase grinned, and to both Kix and Rose’s utter chagrin, Hardcase actually did dive off the makeshift stage and attempt to crowd surf.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

“I’m not patching you up!” Kix shouted over the roar of the music. Rose chuckled, turning the volume nod down as the rest of the 501st shouted in protest.

“Alright, that’s enough for now.” The Lieutenant said, taking control once more. “We can listen to it quietly in the background, but we really do need to wrap up cleaning.”

“Why? Got a date tonight?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. Rose punched him lightly in the arm, and they got back to work once again.

They worked in relative silence, the occasional voice humming or singing along to the music, but they remained productive right up until one of the final songs Rose had downloaded cut through the speaker. The piano wasn’t as rich-sounding as it was through a regular speaker, but even through the tinny cadence of the beat-up radio, every single trooper in the canteen bolted upright, eyebrows raised. Rose smiled knowingly, and turned up the volume once again.

Fives beamed, sitting down on top of one of the tables and laying back, one leg bent and the other stretched flat, a hand behind his head as he sang up at the ceiling.

“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Jesse leaned back against the wall on the other side of the canteen, closing his eyes as he joined in.

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Echo kept mopping, but was grinning as he picked up the next line. “A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume.”

Kix grinned. “For a smile, they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on.”

The rest of the 501st joined in together, their voices carrying in perfect harmony.

“Strangers, waiting. Up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“Night!” Hardcase shouted, straining every muscle in his chest and neck as he struggled to reach the high note.

Tup picked up the next verse, climbing onto one of the tables and dragging Dogma up with him once again.

“Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants the thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time.”

Dogma smiled, nodding his head along to the music. “Some will win, some will lose.”

Tup threw his arm around his brother, and the two of them sang together. “Some were born to sing the blues!”

Rose’s voice carried from over by the radio. “Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on and on!”

“Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“NIGHT!” This time, it was Dogma, of all people, who rang out with the high note, and the explosion of shouts and cheers was deafening. They were screaming along to the lyrics, dancing and jumping and shouting and swaying in time with the song.

“Don’t stop believin’! Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people! Don’t stop believin’, hold on-”

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

The booming voice was so powerful, it could be heard even over the shouts of all the clones. Echo was closest to the radio, and quickly shut it off as the song and dance stopped immediately, every clone scrambling to stand at attention.

The Jedi that filled the doorway was massive, an imposing shadow in the entrance to the canteen. He zeroed in on Tup and Dogma, who had been standing closest to the entrance, and stormed towards them.

“Who is your commanding officer?!”

“Me, sir.”

The Besalisk Jedi turned, spinning on Rose immediately. He stalked over to the Lieutenant, jabbing a meaty finger into his chest, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

“What is the meaning of this?” He snarled.

“Sir, we were assigned cleaning detail.” He explained. “We were just finishing up.”

The Jedi bared his teeth. “Doesn’t look like much cleaning was taking place to me.”

He surveyed the rest of the troopers, but turned his head back to Rose.

“What is your designation?”

“CT-7673.” Rose recited immediately, keeping his back ramrod straight at attention, even though the Jedi was deep in his personal space. He knew this man. General Krell had quite the reputation through the GAR, and Rose had no clue what he was doing outside of the Jedi Temple this late at night.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

“Captain Rex, sir.”

“Not a clone! Is there a malfunction in your design?!” The Jedi bellowed. A few feet behind him, Hardcase flinched at the sudden loud sound, but Rose held still. “Your general, CT-7673! Who is your Commanding Officer!?”

“General Skywalker, sir.” Rose said instead. The canteen was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

He turned his head, noticing the little radio on the table and picked it up, the device small in his massive hands, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “Contraband, disturbance of the peace, behavior unbecoming of an officer, insubordination.” He hissed. “That’s plenty of grounds for a court martial, Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” Fives spoke up, taking a step towards them. “Proper chain of command designates General Skywalker as the one to hand down a court martial order, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with contempt. “With all due respect, sir, you do not command this battalion, and cannot order a court martial on the Lieutenant.”

“Fives.” Rose snapped, whipping his head around to face Fives. “Stand down. Now.”

The ARC Trooper shrank back, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and the General turned back to Rose.

“Be that as it may,” he began icily. “You can rest assured this breach of conduct will not go unreported.”

“Yes sir.” Rose replied stiffly.

General Krell pulled back at last, surveying the battalion. “I want this canteen spotless, and not a word out of you in the meantime!” He ordered. “And I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.”

With one quick motion, he smashed the radio in his hands. Rose heard a soft, hurt sound somewhere behind him, but ignored it. He didn’t look away from the General.

“Dismissed.” Krell growled, turning and stalking towards the doors. “And as for you,” He turned, jabbing one large finger at Fives. “I’ll be mentioning you in my report as well. Pray our paths do not cross again, clone.”

And with those words, he left the canteen.

Rose relaxed, but only minimally so. The silence hung heavy over the 501st, and everyone quietly shuffled back to work.

Rose gripped the mop handle tightly as he worked, his knuckles turning white. His chest burned, a tight, constricting feeling wrapped around his insides. It was a feeling he’d never felt before – anger, sadness, humiliation, resignation – all rolled into one hateful ball, coiled in his gut.

“Finished with the kitchen, sir.” Came Tup’s small voice. He’d put his hair back up, the tight bun back to regulation standards. Dogma was standing stiff beside him, still not entirely relaxed yet. “And the um – the canteen area’s just about wrapped up as well.”

“Very good.” Rose said with a small nod. “I’ll report back to Captain Rex, let him know we’ve finished for the night.”

“Sorry about your radio, sir.” Hardcase murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, ‘Case.” Rose smiled, but his eyes were sad. “It was – it was old, anyway. Just a silly thing.”

Fives bristled, his jaw setting as he tossed the bucket he’d been holding back into the supply closet with far more force than necessary.

“We aren’t supposed to leave base for the rest of the night, right?” Denal asked, arms folded across his chest as they finished the last of the cleanup. “Guess we could play Sabacc or something back in the barracks?”

There were a few murmured agreements, and the 501st shuffled back towards the barracks. Rose was still thinking about the General, and had a bitter taste in his mouth. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong, really.

Was it such a crime to enjoy oneself? To simply exist?

Fives and Echo fell into step on either side of Rose, the ARC Troopers bracketing their Lieutenant. “I bet Echo and I could rebuild the radio.” Fives offered. “Might take a little bit, but even if we can’t, Kix is real good at bartering stuff down in the markets. Remember when he got us those HoloDisc movies for just a tube of bacta?”

“We could find another radio for you?” Echo suggested hopefully. “Or maybe,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Maybe Y/N could find you one?”

“Let it go.” Rose said, picking up the pace and pulling away from the ARC Troopers. They reentered the now far tidier barracks, and Rose gravitated back to his footlocker, starting to close it up and push it back under his bed. The metal clacked slightly against the edge of the bunk, and he paused, the tinny sound echoing in his ears.

He knocked the footlocker against the bunk again, listening to the little noise again.

Kark it. He was more than just a mindless flesh-droid. He was a person. A human being. And he liked music.

And he wasn’t about to let anybody take that away from him.

“I never got to do a song.” He announced, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.

“You can’t be serious, sir.” Dogma said, shaking his head at him. “Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble?”

“I’m sure the General’s slithered back to the Temple by now, where he belongs.” Jesse replied, turning back to the Lieutenant. “We don’t have a radio anymore, sir.”

“We don’t need one.” Rose said, pulling his footlocker back out and propping up one leg on it. He tapped his foot against the metal, the rhythm settling, nodding his head along. He took a deep breath.

“Standing in the rain, with his head hung low. Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show.”

Fives recognized the song, and started tapping his foot along, drumming his hands on an overturned weapons crate.

“Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene. Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream.” Rose climbed up onto the table. “He heard one guitar!”

Jesse slammed a bucket from earlier down against the supports of a bunk, the loud clang mimicking the strum of a guitar.

“Just blew him away. He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store. Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure, that one guitar!”

Another clang, this time from Kix repeating Jesse’s motion, and Echo, Denal, Coric and Fives were all drumming on overturned buckets and crates.

“Felt good in his hands! Didn’t take long to understand, just one guitar, slung way down low, was a one way ticket, only one way to go.”

Tup and Hardcase had picked up a brush – typically used for scrubbing their blasters and armor down – and were knocking it against the durasteel wall. Dogma had rounded up the others, a look of sheer determination on his face as they clamored around the bunks and tables, smacking their fists in rhythm with anything they could get their hands on.

“So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop. Gotta keep on rockin', someday gonna make it to the top!”

Rose stomped his feet, and the rest of the 501st joined him for the chorus.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero!”

“He took one guitar,” Rose sang, while the rest of the battalion echoed “juke box hero, stars in his eyes” around him. “Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight.”

The singing quieted down, listening for a moment to see if anyone was coming, and Rose grinned, starting again and pitching his voice low.

“In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour, thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door.”

The clones took position, preparing to resume their makeshift instruments as Rose picked up in volume.

“Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain. And that one guitar, made his whole life change! Now he needs to keep on rockin', he just can't stop! Gotta keep on rockin', that boy has got to stay on top!”

Once again, shouts rang out as his brothers joined him for the chorus, their voices louder and more determined than ever, refusing to be silenced.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. Yeah, juke box hero, stars in his eyes. With that one guitar, he'll come alive, come alive tonight.”

As they finished the song, Rose panted softly, glancing down at his commlink again. He decided he was going to go off base after all. He wanted to see you, and nobody, not his Captain’s orders, and definitely not some karking General like Krell, was going to stop him.

“Dismissed.” He said curtly, and took off out the door without another word.

~

SONGS USED (because they’re all bangers and you should listen to them): 

The 501st (introduction): Hotel California Echo: Hooked on a Feeling  Fives: Kickstart My Heart Kix: Sharp Dressed Man Jesse: You Give Love a Bad Name Coric and Denal: Come Sail Away Dogma: Zombie Tup: Dancing in the Dark Hardcase: Walk This Way The 212th and 501st: I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) The 501st (Canteen finale): Don’t Stop Believin’ Rose and the 501st: Juke Box Hero

TAG LIST (Aka everyone on the tag list for BAON):  @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex @bubblegumcat229 @generalcannoli @hellothere501stlover @in-the-crosshairs @vaderthepotater @for-the-love-of-clones @babyhowzer @imrealatedtothe501st @chewychewyque @bobafettuccini @baba-fett-writes @chromia7567 @coffeeandtodd @thedomesticatednerd @kirinpl @djarrex @a-c-lee @embarrassedauthornerd @kaorikoizumi @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows @sammi9498 @theroguesully @salaminus

[alittlebitmaybe]

tying you to me

For @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo

Prompt: crafting

Pairing: Geraskier, implied Geralt/Yen in one line

Rating: T for language

Warnings: None

Summary:

As they lay in bed, Jaskier snuggled and breathing humid against his chest hair, Geralt remembers the pattern from Novigrad. A sweater with stretchy ribbing around the wrists and bottom hemline, a high collar. Intricate cabling criss-crossing up the front, making the fabric thick and sturdy. The scroll is stuffed into one of his saddlebags where he’d put it after purchase when he’d cursed himself for wasting the coin.

Jaskier snuffles closer, his grip tightening around Geralt’s waist as he soaks the added warmth through his skin, and Geralt has an idea.

Or: Geralt doesn't know about the boyfriend sweater curse.

Read more on AO3 or below the cut!

Geralt learned to knit out of necessity. Winters in Kaedwen, especially up in the mountains, are bitter cold, and require not only animal skins but woolen socks, hats, scarves, blankets. They keep a flock of sheep for the very purpose. And before—when there were others, even occasionally a proper staff—it would be part of the normal workings of the castle to have several sets of hands dedicated to knitting up useful garments to keep them from freezing their balls off when the frost came.

There are fewer hands now, but also fewer balls in danger of freezing. Geralt and Vesemir handle the bulk of it, these days—Eskel with fingers too big and clumsy to be much help, Lambert too fidgety and quick to rip out all his progress into a tangled mess of wool in a fit of frustration. In the evenings they sit by the great hall fire in mostly silence and take turns spinning the roving into yarn, winding skeins, chipping away at the endless miles of plain stocking stitch, and seaming panels together. (Sometimes Geralt will embellish the design with cables, or a moss stitch—unconventional patterns he’s started to see in the larger cities, sold by the fancier merchants. He may have paid a few crowns for the scroll describing the pattern for one particular sweater he saw in a shop in Novigrad. He has not mentioned this to Vesemir.)

It may be necessity, but Geralt would choose it even if it wasn’t. These are the things his hands are good for: wielding a sword; harvesting various glands and organs; curling into fists; crushing windpipes; skinning rabbits. Bandaging Ciri’s scrapes. Bringing Yen’s pleasure. Curling around the back of Jaskier’s neck, drawing their lips together. And, when it’s over, when there’s nothing to kill and no one to care for, he can create. He can put it all to the side and count off to himself, knit-purl, knit-purl, knit-purl, knit, knit, knit, around and around, back and forth, and this thing will grow from the rhythm of his fingers, from the steady loop and pull that he’s done thousands of times, taught by some witcher instructor decades ago whose name he no longer recalls. He had bushy eyebrows that waggled as he worked. That’s all the memory that’s left of him.

Anyway, it’s easy to allow the hours to pass until Vesemir excuses himself to bed and the fire burns down and takes the light with it. One such night, just as Geralt is squinting at his work to finish this one last row, the hall door creaks open.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says sleepily, “are you still in here? ‘S late, love.”

Knit, knit, knit. “Mm,” says Geralt. “I’m here. Just finishing up.”

“I’ll wait for you, then.” Jaskier pads in his sockfeet across the stone to the armchair Geralt occupies. He sits himself on the rug with his back against Geralt’s legs, knees pulled up to his chest. “Brr. ‘S chilly, too.”

Geralt drops the needle in his right hand, maintaining tension on the working yarn with his left. He runs his free hand through Jaskier’s bed-mussed hair, brushes against his cold ear, down to the soft skin behind it. “Not wearing a coat.”

“Well I wasn’t heading outside, seemed like a—” He yawns, jaw cracking. “—a lot of trouble just to come downstairs. But I now see my mistake.”

“Always have to wear a coat at night,” Geralt says. “Or be under blankets. Or both.”

“Or acquire a personal witcher furnace, unless he’s down here ‘til gods know what hour making yet more mittens for the princess.”

Geralt looks down at the large rectangle he’s been working on. “Lap blanket,” he says. For Ciri, when she’s studying in the library. It gets drafty in there even with the fire blazing.

“For the library?” says Jaskier, tipping his head back to see Geralt. “Good thinking. She’ll love it.”

Geralt releases him and goes back to his work, but knits at most ten stitches before Jaskier shivers again, his teeth chattering before he gets himself under control. Setting the blanket aside, middle of the row be damned, he concedes, “Let’s go back to bed.”

“No, you’re—you’re not done with—” Jaskier cannot finish his sentence for the yawn that overtakes him. “M’kay. Let’s go.”

As they lay in bed, Jaskier snuggled and breathing humid against his chest hair, Geralt remembers the pattern from Novigrad. A sweater with stretchy ribbing around the wrists and bottom hemline, a high collar. Intricate cabling criss-crossing up the front, making the fabric thick and sturdy. The scroll is stuffed into one of his saddlebags where he’d put it after purchase when he’d cursed himself for wasting the coin.

Jaskier snuffles closer, his grip tightening around Geralt’s waist as he soaks the added warmth through his skin, and Geralt has an idea.

*

The next evening, after dinner has been consumed and cleaned up, Vesemir and Geralt move to the fire as usual. Vesemir is working up a new hat for Lambert, who has the shortest hair among them and has one practically pasted to his head all winter long.

Geralt spares a glance to his blanket-in-progress, and then veers toward the wooden chest that stores their yarn stash. He puts aside plain ball after plain ball, until finally he admits defeat and turns to Vesemir and asks, “Do we have any dye?”

“No,” says Vesemir, not looking up. He knits with the yarn looped around the back of his neck to keep the tension, instead of around his fingers. He says it’s easier on his old joints. Geralt thinks it looks preposterous, but it gets the job done. “Not a drop. And that’s never bothered you before.”

“I’m thinking of making a gift,” says Geralt. “I think they’d prefer it to be dyed.”

“Ah, the bard. Yes. I suppose he would.”

“I want him to actually wear it.”

“Indeed.”

“He says coats are too bulky and ponderous, and they dampen his spirits.”

“Foolish boy. He’ll learn.”

“So we have no dye? Of any color?”

“None,” says Vesemir. “Though it may be that there are some old skeins in the back of the cupboard by the linens. I recall that some of our forebears had rather expensive taste, for witchers. Quite wasteful of them. If you ask me.”

Geralt murmurs his thanks, pulls on a cloak, and makes his way through the frozen corridors to the cabinet in the laundry. Along the way he passes the study, and overhears Eskel dominating Jaskier in another round of Gwent.

“Eskel, you dirty cheating bastard, there is no way you just had that card.”

“Where d’you think I kept it, bard?”

“Up your sleeve, behind your ear, under the table, I dunno—”

“Down your pants,” Lambert chimes in, and Geralt hears Ciri giggle. She’s been spending too much time with the witchers now that Yen has departed for the season. Geralt should probably intervene more often.

“—maybe you magicked me with a sign thingy so I wouldn’t notice, but I’m sure you didn’t have it in hand a turn ago, I’ll swear that on—”

“Yes, Lambert, I’ve got Gwent cards lining my codpiece, naturally, even a few stuffed between my—”

Geralt rounds the corner and their voices fade away.

As Vesemir said, there is a small box pushed all the way to the back of the cupboard in amongst the linens. He opens it without much hope, but is surprised to find it full to the brim with yarn of deep reds and blues, all of some soft texture very unlike the itchy wool they’re accustomed to. Sniffing it, he decides it is from some type of goat. He also decides, based on its lack of musty odor, that it is not nearly old enough to have belonged to one of their forebears.

Well, in exchange for the use of the yarn, he’ll allow Vesemir his secret.

He carries the whole lot back to the great hall.

“You found it,” Vesemir remarks, now nearly done with the hat.

“Right where you said,” says Geralt. “You don’t mind if I use it?”

“As much as you like,” he replies disinterestedly, “if you’ll leave me the fuck alone while you do.”

Fair enough.

Geralt selects the red—a deep burgundy that will pair with the blush on Jaskier’s cheeks after a few glasses of wine. He pulls the scroll from his trouser pocket, and begins casting on as the pattern instructs.

*

When he hears Jaskier’s tread in the hall, he hastily pulls the half-finished lap blanket over his new project.

“Bedtime, Witcher,” says Jaskier, peering over his shoulder. “Didn’t make much progress on that tonight, did you?”

“It’s a big blanket,” Geralt grunts. “Eskel’s been practicing sleight of hand since we were boys. Don’t play him for money.”

“I bloody knew it,” Jaskier exclaims. He wheels around and stomps back out of the hall, suitably distracted. “Eskel! You’ll never believe what Geralt’s just told me!”

*

The sweater is slow going, since he does have to put real work into the blanket every once in a while to keep Jaskier’s suspicions to heel.

Over the next few weeks, it becomes near an open secret in the keep what Geralt is up to. Lambert catches him cursing late one evening as he is ripping back several rows to fix a cable he’d mistakenly crossed the wrong way.

“Whazzat,” Lambert says, crunching on a mouthful of tree nuts.

“Fuck off,” Geralt says. He squints and carefully tries to secure a dropped loop back on the needle. If it ladders down, he’s done for—there’ll be no fixing it while maintaining the pattern. He’s not nearly good enough for that.

“Looks like you’re fucking it up,” Lambert chews.

“I am. That’s why I told you to fuck off.”

“Thought that’s just how you decided to greet me now. That’s what Vesemir does.” He shoves another fistful of nuts into his mouth, though Geralt isn’t sure he’s swallowed the first.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

He manages to pick up that last loop before disaster strikes, and moves the stitches around on the needles to make sure they all look right. Then he shoves the left-hand stitches all the way up to the tip so he can continue.

Lambert leans down to examine the fabric, then runs his finger down the pattern with his eyebrow raised. “This is some fancy shit, Geralt, you giant poof.”

“It’s not for me,” he says.

Lambert swallows, belches, and says, “My point exactly. ‘S for Jaskier, innit.”

Geralt doesn’t bother answering as he approaches the cable he’d made a mess of the first time around. Lambert claps him on the shoulder with the hand he’s been using as a nut-to-mouth delivery tool, which leaves salt behind on his tunic.

“That’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks,” says Geralt wryly.

“Anyway, I’m outta here. This boring bullshit still gives me hives.”

He exits the hall and the door shuts heavily behind him. Geralt finishes recrossing the cable and, turning to check his pattern, finds it covered in greasy fingerprints.

Eskel, on the other hand, sits himself in Vesemir’s usual seat one night and sets to quietly whittling a whistle. After several hours, Geralt holds up the near completed front panel of his sweater and says, “Do you think Jaskier will like this?”

Eskel doesn’t even look at it. “Geralt, you could spit on a log and hand it to him and Jaskier would love it.” His knife stills. “Maybe don’t do that, though.”

To their credit, none of the other witchers say a word—possibly for lack of caring—and Geralt is able to rely on them to keep Jaskier occupied most nights while he finishes the front and back panels and seams them up.

Before he begins work on the sleeves, the pattern warns, the wearer should try on the body to ensure proper fit.

“Well, shit,” he says aloud. He can’t ask Jaskier to try it on and ruin the surprise. He holds it up against himself, trying to judge if they are similar enough size to judge whether it will fit Jaskier. Geralt, certainly, is wider in the chest and shoulders, but as long as he can get it on without stretching it too much he should be able to check the length. And, if it fits Geralt or is loose, it will certainly be too large on Jaskier.

It will have to do.

The next morning he rises early and takes the sack in which he’s been storing his project to Ciri’s bedroom. He knocks softly.

“Ciri?” he calls, mouth close to the door. “Can I use your mirror for a moment?”

“Mnnngh,” he hears. He takes this as an invitation.

The only visible part of her, when he lets himself in, is a tangle of hair escaping from under the pile of furs on the bed. He sets his sack delicately in front of the only full-length mirror in the keep and says, “Morning, Princess.”

“F’ off,” the fur pile groans. “No it’s not.”

“You really have been spending too much time with Lambert,” Geralt comments mildly as he pulls the unfinished sweater out and checks it for damage in transport, though he knows it was safe in the bag and only traveled up some stairs. “He’s a bad influence.”

“I���ve always been like this when rudely awakened at the crack of dawn,” Ciri says, muffled. “Don’t think any of you are special.”

“You cursed at the royal servants?”

“Quite regularly.”

Geralt shrugs the layers off his top half down to his undershirt while she continues to stretch and grumble wordlessly in the warmth of her bed. He pulls the sweater over his head; the neckline snags on his ears but otherwise he should be okay to try to get his arms in. He squeezes his right arm in and up, aiming for the proper hole—

“Geralt,” Ciri says icily, “what, by the gods, is that?”

He turns around, contorted in the confines of the too-tight sweater. She’s sitting up with her hair a wild tangle and her eyes wide in horror. “What’s what?”

“That garment!”

“It’s…a sweater? I’m making it.”

Geralt thinks he may be missing something very important.

“For yourself?”

“…No, for Jaskier. He needs another—”

“Don’t you care about the curse?”

Geralt finishes fitting himself into the sweater and tugs it down over his stomach while Ciri continues to stare at him in expectant horror. Thus no longer trapped, he decides to engage. “The what?”

Ciri slumps forward, briefly puts her face in her hands. “Good gods, Geralt, you really can’t be helped. But I also cannot allow you to give Jaskier a handmade sweater. Despite your…personal challenges”—at this, Geralt tilts his head and opens his mouth to ask exactly what the hell that means, but she barrels on—“I really have become fond of the two of you, so I cannot let you carry on with this foolish nonsense.”

Her voice goes more posh the longer speaks. Geralt thinks she will make a fine queen someday. “Ciri, I—”

“And really,” she continues, “it’s like you’re trying to sabotage a good thing. He does nothing but care for you, and this is how you repay him? Honestly. Melitele’s tits!”

“Melitele’s—? Where did you learn that one?”

“I’m hardly sheltered. And you’re one to talk, caring about my language when you’re about to lose Jaskier for good!”

“For good? Lose Jask—okay, Ciri.” He sits down at the foot of her bed, probably looking downright silly confined to a sleeveless sweater that is at least one size too small for him. He can feel it constricting the rise and fall of his chest and stretching tight in his armpits. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. What curse?”

The expression she aims at him is sharper than at least four of the blades in the armory. “The sweater curse, Geralt. If one makes a sweater for a person one is interested in romantically, that person leaves within a fortnight. Everyone knows this.”

“Oh, of course. How stupid of me,” Geralt says.

Ciri raises an eyebrow that says Yes, obviously.

“So you’re telling me that if I finish this sweater and give it to Jaskier, he will suddenly no longer be able to stand the sight of me and will stomp off on down the mountain, even with the good foot of snow and ice blocking the path.”

She sniffs. “Indubitably.”

“Hmm,” says Geralt. “I think I’ll take my chances.” He claps his hands on his knees as he stands and moves back to the mirror to inspect the sizing more closely. The armholes are definitely a bit small—he’ll have to let out the seam to increase the circumference—but the rest, if he tries to overlay Jaskier’s body onto his own, seems like it should be about right.

Ciri leaves the bed with a fur wrapped around her as a cape and comes to his side. “You’re impossible,” she declares, though the royal snootiness is diminished somewhat by her morning breath and tangled hair. Then she reaches out and touches the textured pattern between the cable running up the front. “Though, you know, it is quite beautiful, if horribly misguided.”

He grins indulgently at her. “Thank you, Princess.”

*

“Have you heard of the sweater curse?”

Vesemir snorts. “Poppycock. Who told you about that old superstition?”

“Just came across it.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Vesemir looks at Geralt over his spectacles. “I hope that it’s not bothering you.”

“No,” says Geralt. “Of course not.”

*

He has fuck-all in his hand of cards, but he stares down at them like they might contain the secrets of the Continent.

“It’s your turn, Geralt,” Eskel says.

“I know,” he replies, absently rearranging the cards.

“So…you gonna play or pass?” Lambert asks. He digs his hand into the bowl of nuts at his elbow.

“Not sure.”

“Is something on your mind?” Eskel, again.

“No. Well…do either of you believe in the sweater curse?”

They both look at him blankly.

“Nuh uh,” says Lambert with his mouth full.

Geralt says, “Pass.”

*

He speaks clearly into the xenovox. “Yen? Are you there?”

“Geralt?” comes the reply, as if she were beside him in the room. “Is Ciri all right?”

“We’re all fine. It’s good to hear from you, too.”

“If there’s no trouble, then make it quick.”

Now he hesitates, but he chokes the question out anyway. “Do you know about the sweater curse?”

There is silence.

“Yen?”

“For the love of the gods, Geralt, please don’t bother me with frivolous garbage. I’m much too busy. Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all,” Geralt says, suitably shamed.

*

The finished, washed, and blocked sweater rests folded at the bottom of his wardrobe for more than a week before he works up the nerve to bring it down to dinner with him in his knitting sack.

Even with the flaws that Geralt, as the creator, inevitably notices—a few loose stitches three quarters down the back panel, the right sleeve is slightly longer than the left—he has to admit that it turned out well. He could fetch a pretty penny for it in a large city. Silky soft, thick, and vivid burgundy, it would be a stand-out piece among any merchant’s wares even without the detailing that stretches collar to hem and even down the outside of the arms.

Knitting it was a nightmare. He will never do anything like it ever again, so Jaskier had better appreciate this one.

Still, every time he resolves to finally gift it, Ciri’s words echo in the back of his mind. You’re about to lose Jaskier for good.

On the ninth day, he shushes that voice, takes the sack, and marches straight into the hall for dinner. After all, if Yen and Vesemir aren’t worried, then he shouldn’t be either.

Everyone but Jaskier is there already. Eskel looks up from pouring ale into each mug and says, “Hullo, Geralt. What do you have there?” and Lambert says, “Ooh, didja finish it?” and Vesemir digs wordlessly into his mutton.

Ciri’s eyes zero in on the sack.

“Hello,” says Geralt. “Is Jaskier still washing up?”

“Yeah,” says Lambert. “He fell in a pile of snow.”

“Lambert pushed him into a pile of snow,” Eskel amends.

Geralt glares at the accused, setting the sack on the bench at his usual spot.

“He asked for it. Bloody said ‘Lambert, throw me into that snow over there!’ didn’t he?”

“Since you were alone with him at the time, I don’t think I can confirm or deny—”

“Geralt,” Ciri interrupts, “tell me you’re not still planning what you said.”

“I am,” he tells her.

“You were standing not ten feet away.”

“My back was turned—”

“You’re a godsdamned witcher! Or have you gone deaf?”

“Even after what I told you! I thought you were going to think about it!” Ciri pushes back from the table. “I forbid you from giving that to him.”

Geralt snorts. “Or what, Princess? Look, I don’t think Jaskier is planning to leave—”

“Of course he’s not planning to, the curse will make him! Why are you tempting destiny this way?”

“I’m just saying, Lambert, that it wouldn’t be out of your character to shove an unsuspecting bard into a snowbank.”

“Oh, and hustling him at Gwent wasn’t out of your character, so maybe you’re actually the one who shoved him. Thought about that one, Eskel?”

Geralt says, “If he tries to leave, I’ll tie him to the bed until the urge passes.”

She wrinkles her nose in disgust, but then moves past that comment. “At least let me give it to him. I’ll say I brought it from Cintra, or bought it on the way here.”

“And let my hard work go unacknowledged? I don’t think so. And why would you have bought a man’s sweater?”

Among the arguments, no one notices Jaskier enter the hall and come up behind Vesemir, wide eyed. “What did I miss?” he stage whispers.

“Just open your present, bard,” Vesemir mutters, gesturing to the sack at Geralt’s knee.

“Ooh, a present? For little old me?”

He picks up the sack and tests the weight curiously, before opening it and drawing out the most marvelous sweater he has ever seen.

“Jaskier, no!” Ciri cries, and everyone else falls quiet.

“What, why?” he says, looking between Ciri’s stricken face and the furrow between Geralt’s brows. “What is this?”

“It’s for you,” Geralt murmurs. “I made it.”

“You made it?” he repeats dumbly.

“Yes. For you. Because you were…cold.”

“Because I was cold?”

Geralt gently takes it from him and holds it up so he can see the full design. “That night, you came in when I was knitting, and you were cold. I wanted to make you something warm to wear that you would like.”

Jaskier squishes the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you,” says Geralt, “like it?”

“It’s stunning,” Jaskier breathes. Geralt may as well have hit him over the head with a hammer.

“I cannot believe you, Geralt of Rivia,” Ciri cuts in. “You never listen to anyone. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” With that, she turns on her heel and leaves the hall.

Geralt grimaces. “Do you, er, have any particular desire to leave me?”

“Leave you? Why would I—Geralt, is this a breakup gift? Is it pity?” He panics, pushing the sweater back into Geralt’s hands. “I don’t want your gorgeous pity breakup sweater, Geralt. I’ve played that game before.”

Geralt steadies him, as ever. “No, it’s—Ciri thinks there’s a curse, or something. And that if I made you a sweater, you would leave.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier. “Well, I assure you I will not. And in that case I do want the sweater.” He shucks off his coat right there at the table and pulls the sweater on over his tunic. “There!” He spreads his hands wide. “How does it look?”

The smile Geralt gives him is answer enough. “Perfect,” he says. “You look perfect.”

“Not bad, bard,” Eskel says.

Lambert shoots him a thumbs up. Vesemir does not appear to be paying attention.

Jaskier leans in and kisses Geralt on the lips. “Thank you very much,” he whispers. “I adore it and promise to thank you more appropriately later tonight. For now, shall I go after Ciri?”

“That may be best,” Geralt says. “I don’t think she likes me much right now.”

“My pleasure. Say,” he says louder, “while I’m gone, don’t let my food get cold.” He opens the door and barely feels the usual chill of the drafty hallways at all. Over his shoulder, he adds, “You can get Lambert to tell you all how he threw me in a snow pile today! It was great fun!”

“I told you—” he hears, but then the door closes behind him.

[pikapeppa]

Varric vs. Solas: Wake Up

I watched the Dec 2020 DA4 teaser trailer, heard Varric and SAW MA VHENAN, and I had to write a little something. Behold: a little post-Trespasser, mid-Tevinter Nights chit-chat between Varric and Solas, with a twist.

2400 words. Read here on AO3.

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

Varric scrawled his signature one last time, then put his plume down with a sigh. He resentfully eyed the pile of documents he’d just finished signing; most of them were orders or requests that Bran could easily have signed on his behalf. Varric suspected that this was his comeuppance for telling Bran that he didn’t care that the new signposts in Lowtown were two centimetres taller than the regulation standards. 

“Not like the signposts will help,” he muttered to himself. “People are gonna get lost in Lowtown no matter what. It’s just the charm of the place.” Sure, maybe the real reason people got lost in Kirkwall was that the city design was based on some old magister’s crazy blood magic plan, but that didn’t bear thinking about right now – or ever, really, considering the other shit going on in the world right now. 

He sighed and regarded his paper-strewn desk. There was the tidy pile of documents he’d just signed, and the untidy larger pile of documents he had yet to review. A little stack of coded letters sat in a tray by his left hand — letters that he’d be sending out by raven once he was done here. And finally, poking out from underneath a dog-eared copy of the latest Randy Dowager, was the long-neglected draft of his most recent chapter of Swords and Shields 2. 

A pang of guilt penetrated his fatigue. It had been months now since he’d sent Cassandra a new chapter. He could try to get a little writing done now, while the Viscount's Keep was quiet in the middle of the night, but his eyes were stinging with tiredness…

Ah, what the hell, he thought. He couldn’t deprive his most loyal reader. He pulled out the chapter pages and quickly skimmed the last one to see where he’d left, off then dipped his plume and began to write. 

He had barely gotten out two paragraphs before he heard a soft knock on his office door – so soft he thought he’d imagined it. When the knock happened again, he looked up warily.

It was almost midnight. Who would be coming to his office this late? Whoever it was, it couldn’t be urgent. If it was urgent, they’d be banging, not knocking quietly. 

He leaned back in his chair and idly ran his thumb over the small stiletto blade he kept in a hidden pocket on his thigh – you could never be too careful these days. “Come on in,” he called. 

The door opened slowly, and a tall hooded figure stepped into his office. “Master Tethras,” the figure said. “It’s good to see you.”

A ripple of shock shot down Varric’s spine. He recognized the voice long before the hood was pushed back, revealing a shiny bald head and a subtly tragic expression.

Solas? he thought incredulously. Solas was here? Here, in his office? Impossible. For years they'd tried fruitlessly to track Solas down using any means available, and even with the knowledge of his last known whereabouts from his encounter with Charter, they hadn’t been able to find him. And now here he was, in Varric’s office, strolling in as casually as though he’d just come out of the rotunda at Skyhold? 

It was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous. But since when did things ever make sense, really?

He quickly gathered his wits and leaned back in his chair. “Chuckles. Funny seeing you here.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or should I call you the Dread Wolf?”

Solas let out a little laugh – a very tired-sounding laugh. “Please don’t.”

Varric smirked. “What, reputation getting too heavy for you?”

“You would know, I suppose,” Solas said softly. “You have written about the crushing weight of a reputation several times over.” 

“Sure have,” Varric said. 

Solas nodded. For a long moment, they were silent as they looked at each other, and Varric got the impression that they were sizing each other up, almost like–

Don’t use a wolf-related simile, Varric scolded himself. He gestured at one of the visitors’ chairs across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Solas said. He seated himself on the chair, somehow managing to make his rich dark cloak drape elegantly around himself without making a show of arranging it, and Varric took careful note of the elegance of the gesture. It was… different than the Solas he was used to. More reserved but more powerful at the same time.

Lavellan mentioned he’d changed, he thought. Well, here was the proof. But just how much had Solas changed in the years since Varric had last seen him?

He sat back comfortably. “So,” he said.

“So,” Solas agreed.

Another moment of silence ensued, and the back of Varric’s neck began to prickle. Solas’s expression was calm and neutral, almost alarmingly neutral, and Varric hoped he looked equally unfazed by the strangeness of the current situation. It might be as weird as a giant nug with a beard and a pirate’s hat to be sitting across from an elven god, but Varric didn’t want to show it.

The silence thickened between them. Varric itched to break it, to know what Solas was doing here, but he didn’t want to ask. Something about this visit felt like a power play, and Varric was fairly sure he’d lose if he asked a direct question.

Instead of asking why Solas was in his office, he asked something far more innocuous. “Any interest in a hand of diamondback?”

Solas’s posture relaxed slightly, and he gave Varric a faint smile. “I would like that. Thank you.”

Varric nodded and pulled a deck of worn cards from his desk drawer. He shuffled the cards and dealt a hand, and for the first time in years, Varric and Solas played a game of diamondback together.

They played a couple of hands in silence. Varric won the first round and Solas won the second, and by the time they were on their third, Varric was feeling much more in control of the situation.

He discarded a card and selected another. “It’s been a while, Chuckles. What have you been up to?”

“Travelling, mostly,” Solas said. “Observing. And yourself?”

“Signing my life away,” Varric said dryly, and he nodded to the pile of signed documents on his desk.

Solas’s smile widened slightly. “I see.” He glanced at the unfinished chapter under Varric’s elbow. “You have continued to write as well, I see?”

Varric huffed. “Eh, not really. This is just for Cassandra.”

“For Cassandra exclusively?” Solas said.

Varric nodded. “Aveline — she’s the inspiration for the main character — she demanded that I stop writing it. I told her that making me choose between her and Cassandra would be putting me between a rock and a hard place. Literally.” 

Solas chuckled. The rare sound of Solas’s amusement was strangely familiar, and it only served to highlight the weirdness of the situation.

Varric dealt another hand. “How’s Cole? You seen him lately?”

“Yes,” Solas said. “He is happily dwelling in the Fade once more.”

His tone was very bland, Varric noticed. With Solas, ‘bland’ usually meant ‘something very significant’. Had something happened to Cole, then?

Varric’s gut twisted with concern, but he carefully kept his expression calm. “Tell the kid I said ‘hi’ during your next Fade nap. We miss him around here.”

“I shall,” Solas said softly. “It is your turn.”

Varric nodded and selected a card. They finished the round, which went to Solas this time, and as Varric shuffled the cards, he carefully considered what to say next. Everything he and Solas said to each other involved giving up a piece of information. Even admitting that he and Cassandra were still in touch was a piece of information that could be used – though not one that would be hard to discover even by a fairly poor spy. But in such a fraught situation, Varric needed to be very careful about what he said next.  

It was time to try and unbalance Solas. And there was only one thing — or rather, one person — that had been able to soften Solas up in the past. Would a mention of her still be enough to unbalance this especially placid and self-possessed version of the elven apostate?

Only one way to find out, Varric thought. He dealt out their cards, then looked at Solas. “She’s fine, by the way.”

Solas met his eye. And for a split second, swift as the blink of an eye, an expression crossed his face — an expression that landed like a strike to Varric’s gut. It was a complicated mixture of heartwrenching longing and regret: the kind of regret that could haunt a person for decades. The kind of regret that spoke of near-misses and what-ifs that would never be resolved. 

The kind of regret that could twist and fester in the walls of a once-loved fortress until it became literally monstrous. 

Then, just as quickly as the weight of emotion crossed Solas’s face, it was gone — but not quickly enough for Varric to miss it. 

Solas still cares about Lavellan, Varric thought. This was very useful information to have. If Solas still loved Lavellan, if the Dread Wolf still had some kind of attachment to their world, then there was hope. A little hint of hope, sure, but Varric was well-accustomed to seemingly-hopeless situations by now. 

Hope is good, he thought. Hope’ll keep us going. He couldn’t take any pleasure from this information, though — not when he knew Lavellan still loved Solas too.  

Solas, meanwhile, had returned his now-neutral gaze to his cards. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “You see her often, I take it?”

���Nah,” Varric said. “She’s still out in the Hunterhorn Mountains.”

Solas looked up with a tiny frown. “The Hunterhorn Mountains?”

“Yeah,” Varric said. “With the rest of the Seekers. What’s left of them, anyway.”

Solas blinked. Then his face cleared with comprehension — and a whisper of disappointment. “Ah,” he said. “Cassandra. Of course.”

Varric raised his eyebrows in faux-innocence. “Who did you think I meant?”

Solas stared stonily at him, and Varric steadily returned his gaze. Then Solas huffed softly, and a hint of a smile touched the corner of his lips. He looked at his cards once more without replying, and Varric watched him carefully as they played out the remainder of the round, but his face had resumed its unnervingly placid expression.

Varric won the round. When he’d collected the cards once more, he paused and gave Solas a frank look. “Listen, Chuckles, the personal visit is nice, but I’ve gotta wonder what it’s about.” 

Solas leaned back and crossed one ankle over his knee, looking supremely comfortable for an ancient god who had just been called out by a mere mortal. “Truthfully?” he said. “It was an experiment.”

Varric frowned.  This was not what he expected Solas to say. “An experiment?”

“Yes,” Solas said. “I am both interested and somewhat alarmed to see that it worked.”

“Okay,” Varric said slowly. He couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed that Solas was being his usual cryptic self. “So… what happen next, then?”

“That is largely up to you,” Solas said.

“What do you mean?” Varric asked.

“I mean that the choice is yours. It is your mind, after all.” He gestured at the cards in Varric’s hands. “We could continue talking and playing, if you like.”

Varric narrowed his eyes. What did Solas mean, ‘it is your mind’? “And what if I don’t want to?” he said suspiciously. “Are you going to kill me?”

Solas’s smile widened into something indescribably sad. “No, Varric. If you don’t wish to continue playing, then I suggest you wake up.”

Varric jerked and opened his eyes. “What?” he blurted.

Solas didn’t reply. In fact, Solas wasn’t there. 

Disoriented and alarmed, Varric looked around his empty office. What the hell? he thought. So… wait. He was confused. How — what had just happened? He’d been asleep, so how had he been playing cards with Solas? 

A sudden realization gripped him. Thinking or doing things or seeing people while he was asleep: Varric had never done this before. In fact, he didn’t know any dwarf ever who had done that before. 

“Did… did I just have a dream?” he said incredulously to his empty office.

No one answered — of course no one did, because Varric was alone. But… Andraste’s knickers, that had felt so real. If that was a dream, how did humans and elves and qunari stand it every night?

He rubbed his face roughly. He was spooked; there was no denying it. And he couldn’t make sense of how this was even possible. Everyone in Thedas knew that dwarves didn’t dream; it was a fact, like the sky being blue and grass being green. But if Varric had just had a dream, and Solas said it was an experiment… 

Shit, he thought. Maybe that meant Solas was doing some kind of weird new magic, which didn’t bode well. If that was the case, he needed to talk to some mages about this. Good thing Lavellan was in Kirkwall at the moment. He could talk to her and to Dorian through her sending crystal thing, and they could explain what had just happened. 

He stood up and stretched, then quickly locked the coded letters in the hidden compartment in his desk before leaving his office. As he made his way through the silent Viscount’s Keep, he tried to remember what he and Solas had talked about during the dream, but it was becoming indistinct. He remembered playing cards, and he remembered Solas saying it was an experiment, but the things they’d discussed… 

He rubbed his forehead, frustrated that his memory of the dream was so fuzzy. Had they talked about lyrium? Varric didn’t think so. Maybe… maybe about Varric’s books? That was possible. Was it normal for dreams to just disappear so quickly? He thought he remembered humans complaining about this, but Solas always made it sound like his dreams were so clear… 

Then Varric remembered something very clear: the look on Solas’s face when he was thinking about Lavellan. That wistful, yearning expression that spoke of hope and tragedy at the same time — the same expression that Lavellan wore when she thought no one was looking.

His heart sank, and he sighed. It looked like shit was about to get weird again for Lavellan, and soon. Then again, when had shit ever not been weird? 

At least we’re never bored, he thought wryly. With that semi-positive thought in mind, Varric stepped out of the Viscount’s Keep and into the heart of Hightown.  

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Power

Dannymay 12,021, Human Era, ao3

It was unclear if Danny had arrived in this world of super powered people because of a natural portal or because Clockwork wanted to pawn off the teaching responsibilities he supposedly had onto the staff of supposedly the best school in Japan for superheroing. Regardless, Danny found himself somewhat stuck and surprised by his apparent panlinguistic ability. “Wait,” Sero said, waving his arms, at which Danny did his best not to stare. “So you didn’t take a japanese class and your quirk isn’t just understanding languages?”

“I mean, it’s not really a quirk or anything, but I guess it’s part of it? I’ve manifested a few powers, actually, but I’m usually too sleep deprived to keep track of them all so I dunno how many off the top of my head.” Everything was silent for long enough that Danny looked around the room from where he sat on one of the couches and saw that eeryone was staring. “What?”

“There’s practically nobody out there but like, the Scourge of Kamino with multiple quirks and working brain, kero.” Asui said.

“You said you don’t have a list of your powers on hand?” Izuku asked before Danny could sort his feelings on being effectively equivilent to the biggest bad out there. He shook his head slowly and stared at the notebook in Izuku’s hand, wondering where it came from. “Then we can help you make one, that way you can figure out a proper method of training and refining your powers.”

“Hey, let’s ask Aizawa sensei!” Ashido got up and half the class was out the door before Danny could even finish shrugging in agreement. It wouldn’t hurt to go through his powers in a safe place made to take a beating.

One trip to training area Gamma with Cementoss and Nedzu along for the ride later, and Danny went to work showing off everything he could remember himself able to do, and a few things he’d forgotten he could do.

“So, there’re the ones you knew you could do off the bat like selective tangibility, invisibility, flight, possession, and telekinesis,” Izuku said, reading off from the page in his notebook. “You also have enhanced strength, speed, durability, healing, and sensory range.”

“Those are true of like, all the ghosts I’ve met though, that’s not special to me in particular.”

“You can also manipulate your body to elongate it, make holes in yourself, or disconnect body parts, head included, and turn into mist.”

“I just call that selective body horror, honestly, my friends came up with the name.”

“You can generate, mold into constructs, or ionize into plasma discharge, ectoplasm, which you said is a..”

“Pan dimensional pseudo matter that reacts mostly to psychological input rather than obeying any set laws of physics.”

“You can duplicate-”

“That took a lot of work to master, and I can still only make like four of myself.”

“-with a hive consciousness and shared pool of energy that instantly relays information to you from however many sets of senses you can muster up. You can discharge electricity-”

“Stars, I only did that once.”

“-Freeze things instantly and launch ice projectiles and constructs-”

“Not as well as the Far Frozen.”

“-throw fire balls-”

“I forgot I could do that, honestly, but Shouto does it better.”

“You can turn into data and surf the internet, and dream walk,” Izuku continued with a tone that implied Danny should stop interrupting him. “And you have that sonic attack of yours. Do you have a 23rd power to add to this list, Danny?”

“Uh,” Danny scratched the back of his head, blushing under the heat of everyone’s intense stares. “My evil, alternate future self could open portals to the ghost zone so maybe that in the future?”

“Daniel,” Nedzu said, gaining everyone’s attention at once . “Based on the USB drive full of schematics that the mentor you mentioned - Clockwork? - left on my desk, I’d say that we’ll be having our paws full helping you hone your many skills.” Danny blinked a few times and smiled, offering a thumbs up to the principal.

“Thank you! Gosh, I never thought I’d go to a school full of super people like this.”

[littlebird616]

We're more alike than you think - The Winter Soldier

sooooo, i'm writing a fanfic based on tfatws, and i thought why not post a few bits and bops here on tumblr. this is a #tb that y/n has with the winter soldier. if you wanna read the full fanfic check out @littlebird616 on wattpad <3 Summary: You are the only daughter of Magneto. You ran away from home when you were young and established yourself as a bounty hunter, that's when y/n meet the man ones only known as a myth, The Winter Soldier. You and the soldier became close, finding comfort with each other. You have the same powers as your father.

Word count: 1019

Warnings: hint at smut (?), mention of torture and brainwashing, absurd fluff.

"You're sure about this?" you whispered close to the soldier's lips. The soldier gave you a nod. "It's easier when you're around" he said short but precisely. A little smile curled up on your lips "Then I will be there" you said and let your lips brush against his lips. You tilted your head, curious for what the soldier wanted to do next. His hands gently moving up and down your naked body. "What do you wanna do now, soldier?" you asked.  He answered your question with putting both of your hands above your head before he leaned down kissing you.

You could feel his cold metal hand holding you down on the mattress. It made you smile. The vibrations from the metal made you feel things. It was a mix between power and lust. Knowing you had the power to do whatever you wanted to do, and a lust for more. The Soldier knew this about you. You were one of very few people who didn't get scared of him. You wanted him for who he exactly was. Cold, determined and lonely. His arm, his metal arm was not a weapon or a burden for you, it was something you craved. It made him perfect for you, but he wasn't only perfect for you. You were perfect for him. You were calculated, smart and always had an understanding of what needed to be done. Many could describe you as cold, but the soldier had seen kindness in you. You were only very selective about who deserved it.

"We should go, we don't want to make Pierce wait" you whispered into the soldier's ear. He got the message and the two of you got dressed. Unlike the soldier, you stood free to choose what missions you wanted to take, that often being the one that paid best and Hydra was often the best paid operator. Did you support their cause? Absolutely not, but it sent a strong signal to your father and you liked the money.

It was your first time going in with the Winter Soldier to Pierce and you were already prepared for his snarky comments. They had tried many times to wipe his memory of you without succeeding and since you didn't really stand in their way, they had now given up on that part. You still enjoyed to see the annoyance in Pierce's face.

They would wipe him after every mission to make sure that he had no memories of the different people he would encounter on missions. Mostly to make sure he couldn't connect the dots. Every now and then they would freeze him down, it could be for a couple of months or just days, then they would let their little toy out again.

Those were the worst times. You had no idea of how long they would keep him frozen. It made you crazy not knowing, and it made you doubt your intentions with the soldier. From time to time you thought about the idea of breaking him out of the Hydra facilities, but you knew better than to mess with them and you let go of the thought.

"It's not too late for you to turn around Y/n." Pierce said as the Winter Soldier sat down in the chair. You smiled at Pierce. It must be funny for him to know that even if you had the power to kill him on the spot you couldn't. The man himself was a top agent with combat skills, but it was nothing against what you could do. You looked over to one of the doctors who were holding a scissors before you altered the magnetic field and snapped it out of his hands. You had no intention of hurting anyone, but you wanted to remind them of who really was in power. You played with it while looking up at Pierce. "He wanted me here."

"Your choice, don't say I didn't warn you" he said and turned around to look at the soldier.

"Y/n stays." the soldier stated while looking at you.

You smiled weakly at Pierce who clearly didn't like having visitors over. He looked annoyed at the scissor you were playing with before he caught it in his hands and put it back on the table. You tilted your head with an innocent smile at him before he turned back to the soldier. "Fine. Wipe him"

They pushed the soldier back in the chair and cuffed him into the seat. You wanted to be here for him, but you didn't like it. Watching your only friend get tortured and brainwashed was something not even you could enjoy, but you knew that the soldier wanted you here so you stayed.

The soldier started to breath heavily as the machine was getting attached to his face. You wanted to look away or even help the soldier out, but you knew Pierce would judge you for it, so you looked straight at the soldier. The machine started and the soldier let out a scream that hit you right to the core. Without even thinking you altered the magnetic field and moved everyone into the wall, so they stood as far as possible from the Soldier. You walked straight over to the soldier.

"Don't do anything stupid" Pierce yelled at you while the soldier was still screaming in pain. You looked over at Pierce with a smile before you took the Soldier's hand and just held it. You wanted to let the Soldier know you stood right beside him. Some of the guards tried to point their gun at you, but you just laughed and slammed their simple guns to the ground as they broke.

The machine stopped and you looked back at the soldier who was breathing heavily. You leaned down to his face and took out the gum they had put in there. You put a finger on his under lip and watched as it moved with his heavy breathing. You smiled when you saw that he was claiming down. You leaned closer to his face and kissed him. "Y/n stays." you whispered.

[eunchancorner]

Eun’s Background

Lol I saw Ava and Tomlee do this so you know I had to. This one is based on real aspects of my life and I kinda used Ava’s tickle town so it would make more sense. Also, I would have ended up there long after Ava sooo yea

TW: Mentions of death, depression and anxiety, cussing, some angst which slowly leads to fluff.

Words: 1088

Eun had never been much more than a quiet kid. She kept mostly to herself, she lived with her family in a small house, where they bred dogs to help pay for bills and food, and she was considerably less loud than her younger brother and sister. But inside she had always been stirring with uncertain thoughts.

I should go talk to Ashle, I haven’t seen her in a while. Wait, what if I annoy her? I better let her come to me.

Maybe I should go talk to Matthew. He might forgive me for what happened… No, no, he probably hates me… if he wants to talk to me he’ll do it.

Hmm, Arrow’s online. Maybe we can get a good convo going? Wait, what if she’s busy? I don’t wanna bug her, I’ll let her talk first

The cycle was endless, it was always like this. She was always scared to talk to people, so she’d just secretly hope they’d talk to him. And most times, they never did. So, she’d go on with her day, quietly wondering if they ever wanted to at all.

It created a pretty big problem for her. She was a social girl. An anxious social girl, but a social girl nonetheless. She liked talking to people, and she especially liked any time she would get a hug from someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. Physical affection was kinda her thing.

She was never sure what had gotten her so into tickling. It started as a hatred, that slowly turned to fascination, which became a love. Almost a longing. Lee moods were short but strong, and she often just waited them out. And she never talked about it, scared it would be seen as something dirty or childish, or that someone might abuse the information.

It wasn’t until one day when she actually ever wanted to leave. And she was sure she had caused it.

“WHAT DOES SHE HAVE TO BE DEPRESSED ABOUT?! SHE’S GOT A ROOF OVER HER HEAD, FOOD IN HER STOMACH AND CLOTHES ON HER BACK! SHE SHOULD BE F*CKING GRATEFUL!”

“THAT’S NOT HOW IT F*CKING WORKS! IF YOU’D CARE ENOUGH TO LISTEN YOU’D KNOW BY NOW, *SSH*LE!”

Her mother and stepdad (she never knew her birth dad, and her sister’s had died when she was small, so their mom was always looking for someone to replace them) were arguing again. Usually they’d argue about something trivial that she cared not to dip into, like politics, but this time she knew that she had caused this.

She had just gotten home from visiting a friend, and on the way back her mother had warned her that Chris had gotten mad because he didn’t want her visiting anyone until she brought her grades up, and her mom had gone on the defensive, telling him that her grades weren’t improving until her mental state was, and that visiting a friend was going to help her with the depression she had apparently got from said mom.

Eun hated it. She was sitting in her room, listening to the two, knowing she had done this and hated it.

If I had never been born they could be happy. I never would have done this, I never would have upset him, I never would have hurt them.

She ran a hand through her blonde locks, silently cursing herself until she decided. She was going to sneak out tonight. All she had to do was wait.

A few hours after the door slammed shut, she checked her chromebook for the time.

12:13

With a grunt she stood and grabbed her belongings; her chromebook and charger, some carefully selected foods, some money, a few sets of clothes and two hoodies. She slipped on her boots and walked over to her small black cat.

“I’m sorry, Skittle, but Mommy has to go… tell Jay he was a good kitty… and don’t worry, you were too. Mommy’s just… tired of causing problems. Don’t worry, Joann will take care of you… maybe one day I’ll come back for you..”

Skittle let out a confused ‘mrrr?’ and nuzzled Eun’s hand. Eun smiled slightly and stood, slowly walking out of her and her sister’s shared room, quietly making her way to the door, stopping when she was confronted by their oldest dog, Echo.

“Aww… hey there, old man… listen, I’m gonna need you to tell the other dogs that they have one less human, ok? Can you do that, Ekky?” she asked, smiling a little wider as the old red fawn dog tapped his paws excitedly upon hearing his nickname.

“Good boy…” she said as she slowly stepped out the door. “Bye everyone..” she said, before finally shutting it behind her.

It took a long time to finally free herself from the suburban area she lived in, but sighed in relief as she came across a huge open field she had never seen before. She kept walking, looking around for anyone or anything that caught her eye. Until she saw… someone. Someone with short-cut blue hair, walking a ways away from her.

Imbued with a new curiosity, she followed the stranger at a distance, until she saw something in the distance that they were going towards. It was a small group of people, all heading in the same direction. There was a tan redhead with spiky hair, a short, sweet looking girl with white, flowy hair, a middle-sized greenette with fluffy hair and starry freckles, and a tall woman with black hair and someone with short black and white hair.

Eun felt an odd type of… respect towards them. She admired them in a sense, liking to think they knew exactly what to do or where to go. It was kind of comforting in a sense, to admire them from afar, even if she was too nervous to interact with them. She almost… looked up to them.

Eventually they all came up on a town, and Eun was in shock. There were so many people that she had never seen before here, it honestly made her nervous, so she was glad that there were so many other things for them to focus on. She looked around, quietly wondering what to do now.

Well, I guess I can find somewhere to live here. It doesn’t seem too bad.

She would later come to find out she had found a whole community based around tickling, and would slowly find her place as one of many fic writers here.

[babybluebex]

washed in the blood [arvin russell x reader]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.8k ➽ summary: based on a request i got but deleted :( “if you’re still taking requests, can i request an arvin russell smut fic based on the scene where he gets picked up, but instead he’s picked up by the reader and her (soon to be) ex, she plans on breaking it off because he’s a sleeze, and arvin notices tension. one thing leads to another, and the two ditch the ex and have sex in the motel room” ➽ warnings: explicit language, ab*se mentions, de*th mentions ➽ a/n: full disclosure, i changed this to not have smut. lol. enjoy!

Hitchhikers were a normal thing for Ohio. In the rural parts, not too many people had cars, and buses didn’t run that far out, so people hitched rides wherever they could. Even if you were fortunate enough to have a car, there was a thrill about sticking your thumb out and seeing who you’d be riding with. My mother always tried to dissuade me from hitchhiking, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, she never said anything about being on the other end of the deal. 

I loved picking up hitchhikers. Most times, they were yippies, trying to make their way to California. Even if you were just going as far as ten miles away from the pickup point, they were thankful. I got along with mostly everyone-- a superpower, my boyfriend called it-- and I could always find something to talk about. Where words failed, the radio helped. Music always got people talking, even if it was to talk about how much they hated the song. 

Meade, Ohio was a quiet place. I grew up there, so I guess that’s why I always talked so much: to fill the perpetual silence. As soon as I graduated from Meade Central High School, I gathered everything I owned (which wasn’t much), and headed out west towards Cincinnati. There wasn’t much there from what I’ve heard, but it had to be better than Meade. If there wasn’t anything for me in Cin City, I would go further west-- Indianapolis maybe, or perhaps further than that to Chicago. To get there, though, I had to get the fuck out of Ohio. 

The smoke from my cigarette danced out of my open window as I drove through the hills. My conversation with my mother was playing like a cracked vinyl in my head, her begging me to stay in Meade. I had asked what was here for me, and my mother had tightened her jaw. “Nothing, I suppose,” she had said. “With an attitude like that, there’s nothing for you anywhere.” With an attitude like mine, I argued back, the whole world was ripe for my taking. My mother had always been controlling. I couldn’t wear pants or smoke or even wear bright makeup, and seeing my friends do all of that and more was tortuous. Of course I loved my mother and knew that she was right, but I wanted to find that out for myself rather than being told that. I crested a hill, the radio crackling in and out as I lost the station, and I saw a man a few yards ahead of me. He held his body like it was a burden, his arm limp as he stuck his thumb out. As my car approached, he turned to look at me, and I slowed to a stop. A moment passed where his eyes locked with mine through the glass windshield, and he rushed to the passenger door. In he came, tossing his knapsack into my backseat, and he huffed out a tired sigh once the door was closed. 

“Where ya headed?” I asked. 

“Umm…” He began. His eyes fell to his lap, looking for an answer, and he finally said, “I dunno.” 

“Right,” I said. “I’m heading to Circleville, so if you got any place between here and there, just let me know.” 

The man nodded slowly. His cheeks were red, his forehead shiny with perspiration, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I… I’m Arvin.” 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Y/N.” I started the car back, continuing my journey to the last destination in my tour of Ohio. My boyfriend had found out about my flee, despite my attempts to try to slip away undetected, and he begged me to meet him in Circleville to at least say goodbye. He went to college in Columbus, hence why I chose Cincinnati instead. There was more in Columbus, but I wanted a place where nobody knew me to start over. “Fiddle with the radio if you want to. I’m not partial to any kind of music.” 

“Me neither,” Arvin said. There was a pause, then he reached forward and began to tune the radio. Channels faded in and out, Elvis and Beach Boys making varied appearances as my radio struggled to pick up a channel for more than a few seconds at a time, and finally it picked up a station. Church hymns. Sure. Arvin seemed satisfied with the selection, because he leaned back, and he tugged his blue baseball cap off. 

I could feel the stiffness radiating off of Arvin, and I rolled my neck as I tried to come up with something to say. I looked at my cigarette, the butt stained with the red lipstick that my mother had forbidden, and I held it out to him. “Want the rest?” I asked. “I’m feeling pretty finished, but I don’t wanna waste it, ya know?” 

“S’long as it ain’t an American Spirit,” Arvin mumbled and let out another huff, more of a laugh than before.

 “God, no!” I chuckled. “What kinda girl do you take me for, sir?” 

Arvin cracked the faintest smile, and he took the cigarette from my waiting hand. “Girls I went to high school with smoked shit like that,” he said and took a drag. “Just making sure I knew who I’m with.” 

“How long ago was that?” I asked. 

“Like…” Arvin began. “May.” 

“This May?” I asked, and Arvin nodded. “Neat. I just graduated too.” 

“Thank God, right?” Arvin mumbled, the cigarette now resting against his bottom lip. “Hated that place. I’d rather go to the fuckin’ war than go back to high school.” 

“Me too,” I said. “I got teased and pushed around all the time. Same for you?” 

Arvin shrugged. “I was fine,” he said. “My little sister, though… She got picked on. I got in trouble a lot for beating up her bullies, or getting beat up by them. I would do that a million more times, though, if it meant I could help her.” 

“How old is she?” I asked. “I only ask ‘cause I got a sister who just started high school.” 

Arvin shifted and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “She was sixteen,” he said. 

“Was?” I repeated. 

“She… Died,” Arvin said. “S’more complicated than that, but…” 

“Jesus Christ, Arv, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That… That really fucking sucks.”

“It does,” Arvin said. “She got killed.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to imagine the grief that this poor man had been through. My own heart hurt just from thinking of it. I would hurt anyone, except for anyone that hurt my sister. “Well,” I sighed. “Do you know who did it?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Arvin laughed. “I know.” 

“Did you go to the police?” I asked. 

“We don’t have police in Coal Creek, West Virginia,” Arvin told me. “Too small for it, and there’s hardly any need for them anyway.” 

I managed a weak laugh. “If I knew who it was that killed my little sister, they wouldn't be alive for much longer after that. I’d kill them myself.” 

Arvin nodded. He said nothing else. 

Eventually, the radio station came in clearer, signaling our entrance into Circleville. My boyfriend had specified where he wanted to meet me, and the gravel of the parking lot crunched under my car as I steered my way into the diner. “It’s been nice meeting you, Arvin,” I said. The brake squealed as I engaged it, and Arvin nodded before pulling his cap further down onto his head. 

“You too,” he said. “I’m gonna grab me something to eat real quick, then I’ll be on my way… Just didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was following you in there.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” I shrugged. “Got any idea of where you’re going now?”

“Not yet,” Arvin said. “I’ll probably hitch a ride somewhere else. Maybe with someone who doesn’t listen to hymns in her free time.” 

“You put the station on!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “Don’t go blaming me!”

“You coulda changed it,” Arvin offered, stepping out of the car. He reached and grabbed his bag, and I rested my arms on the roof of my car. 

“You coulda kept looking for a different station,” I fired back. 

“You coulda kept your big mouth shut about music,” Arvin said. 

“I coulda left your ass on the side of the road,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.” 

Arvin gave me the first real smile I had seen from him, and he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said. “I could argue ‘bout this all day.” 

“You just might be able to,” I said. I grabbed my handbag from the floor of the car, and Arvin walked beside me into the diner. I spotted Harry immediately in the back corner, and I took a deep breath. The whole ride here, I knew that I was planning on ending things with him, but, now that I was here, I was doubting myself heavily. Could I survive in the world without a man there to fall back on? It seemed so impossible all of the sudden. I wanted to back away. Walk backwards and get back in the car and go back home. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from my side, and I turned to see Arvin still standing by me. “Whatever you’re gonna do, I can bet it’s better than anything I’ve ever done.”

“How do you know I’m gonna do anything?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just having lunch with my boyfriend.” 

“Right,” Arvin said slowly. “And that’s why your face went all white when you saw him.” He gave me a pointed look, then a quick wink, and he went to the counter to order. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked as I approached the table he was sat at. No hug or kiss or any greeting that a boyfriend would normally give; just an interrogation. 

“Hitchhiker I picked up,” I said. “We’re gonna head on to Cincinnati once we’re done here.” 

“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Harry sighed. “You’re still on this Cincinnati business?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “It’s the only place for me.” 

“And what about me?” Harry asked. “What about here? We could have a life here, but you--” 

“We sure could have a life,” I told him. “But you have to start it, Harry. I’ve waited for you for years and I’m tired. I want my own life now.” 

“Were we supposed to get married when you were still in high school?” Harry asked. 

“Other girls got engaged,” I said. “Harry, I’m done. I… I don’t want whatever you want to give me. I want to be on my own, make my own name, ya know?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Harry sighed, wiping his hand down his face. 

“I--” I started, then straightened up. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. I’m going to do what I want, and I am not sorry about it. You had your chance, but I’m done.” 

“Done?” Harry scoffed. “You’re not done. Not with me, not now.” 

“Yes, with you,” I said. “And, yes, now. I… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I got up from the table, trying to keep my cool, but Harry had other ideas. 

“No,” he said, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “You’re not leaving me, you bitch.” 

“Watch me,” I told him, and I tried to pry my arm around him. “Let go of me.” 

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry said. “You’ll never survive on your own.” 

“How do we know for sure if I don’t try?” I asked. 

“‘Cause you’re too dumb to anything for yourself,” Harry said. “You know it’s true. You’ll get eaten up in the real world. The world ain’t like Meade, it’s mean and it’ll kill you. You need to settle down with me, and I’ll do everything for you.” 

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Harry,” I said. “Get your stinkin’ hand off of me.”

Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I looked to see Arvin standing there. His face was as hard as stone, his jaw set firmly, and his brown eyes boring deadly holes into Harry. “I think,” he began with his deep gravel. “You oughta leave her alone.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked. “The hitchhiker?”

“I am,” Arvin said. “And I can be a lot worse. Leave her be, and I’ll leave you be.” 

“You’re a funny guy,” Harry chuckled. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s sit down and have some lunch.” 

Arvin was quiet as he pushed his jean jacket aside, and I felt my blood run cold at the sight. Tucked into the waistband of his denim pants was a wooden tool, one that was obviously the butt end of a handgun. Had he had that the whole time? I hadn’t noticed it when he was in the car next to me, but maybe he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “You need to let go of her,” Arvin said. “And let her leave. And you ain’t ever gonna talk to her again.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, it ain’t a threat,” Arvin chuckled lowly. “It’s a promise. I’ve done worse to men better than you.” 

“I bet,” Harry said. “You don’t have the gall to do it.”

“You wanna bet?” Arvin asked. “I’ve had a hard day. You’d make my tally a solid five.” 

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry scoffed. “Y/N--”

“No,” I said quickly. I had no reason to back Arvin on his ridiculous claim, but if it made Harry leave me alone… “Harry. He’s serious. You’re gonna wanna leave.” 

Harry looked from me to Arvin, then down to the gun. “Where did you find him?” Harry asked. 

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “Just go. Don’t call me, don’t worry yourself with me. Just leave me alone.” 

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, huh?” Harry said softly. “I hope y’all find whatever you’re looking for in Cincinnati.” 

“We will,” Arvin said quickly, and he adjusted his jacket to cover the gun once more. “Have a good day now, ya hear?” 

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I moved myself back to the car, and I watched Arvin settle back where he was before the diner. My hand hovered by the ignition, my mind wanting me to put the keys in but my hand refusing to cooperate, and I finally swallowed. “Why you got a gun?” I asked. 

“You heard me,” Arvin said and sniffed. “Killed four people.”

“That’s real funny, Arv, but I’m being serious,” I said. 

“And why do you think I’m not?” Arvin asked. “I don’t care too much for lying.”

“Oh, but you’ll excuse killing?” I gasped. “Arvin, Jesus Roosevelt Christ! You haven’t really killed people, have you?” 

“You told me not an hour ago that you’d kill anyone who hurt your sister,” Arvin said, turning his gaze to me. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I… I don’t know. I just thought… Arvin, that was a joke.” 

“Not to me,” Arvin said. “He was a fucking bastard. He raped my sister and got her pregnant, and he didn’t want nothing to do with her. She trusted him, and he discarded her like trash, and she ended up hanging by her neck in our barn. The world is better off without that horse’s ass.” 

I chewed on my tongue. Was it better to know? Or was this knowledge a curse? I wanted to ask about the others he claimed to have killed; a morbid curiosity. “Get outta my car,” I whispered. Arvin laughed lightly, and I clamped my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not joking, Arvin. Get out.” “

Why?” Arvin asked. “You worried I’m gonna kill you too?” 

“No,” I said. “But I make efforts to not associate with murderers. Get out of my car.” 

“I killed a sheriff too,” Arvin told me. “And two others, but all three of them were tryna kill me, so I think it was mighty justified. What do you think, darling?” 

Heat and ice battled inside my chest. I wanted to kick him out and leave him for the police to find, but I couldn’t do that. We had connected immediately, and there was no telling what else fate had in store for him. He was so obviously hurt. Maybe he needed somebody around. Maybe he wanted somebody around. He seemed to be trying awful hard to keep me around. I pushed, but he pulled. “You might’ve done it, but I can’t say I blame you,” I mumbled. “Still wanting to go to Cincinnati?” 

“Wherever you’re going, I am too.”

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Shipped (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Omg your requests are open!! Can you do something about colby and reader dating in secret and she’s always hyping him up on everything and fans just think it’s cause they are best friends. But she posts a post wearing the love for hire letterman on accident and the fans connected it because Kat and Tara have it to so they figure out they are dating and go crazy (in a good way) for them 🥺❤️

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: Major fluff, Swearing

Masterlist

I harassed Colby into letting me listen to their new music. Let’s just say, when you guys hear this, you’re going to be glad One Direction is on a break. Can’t help but stan L4H!! #numeber1fan

I press "send tweet" before plugging in my phone and taking a quick shower. When I get out of the shower I grab my phone and throw myself onto Colby’s bed. It’s our bed at this point. I spend more time at the trap house than I do my apartment, I might as well move in. I go and read the comments under my tweet. Most of them are good. Some fans want me to leak the boys' music, others are freaking out over mine and Colby’s friendship. Someone makes it a point to mention how cute Colby and I would be as a couple and linked an edit that they made. Someone commented that fans like them, the one that posted the edit, are the problem and the reason why Colby doesn’t have any friends who are girls. There is a whole fight going on under that comment.

I quickly try to defuse the situation between the fans before exiting twitter altogether. I take my towel off of my damp hair and walk back into Colby’s bathroom to detangle it. When I finish doing my hair I grab the first jacket of Colby’s that I see to get warm. Lucky for me, it’s his Love for Hire lettermen jacket. For whatever reason, this jacket is more comfortable than any hoodie I’ve stolen during our entire relationship, maybe it’s because it smells strongly like him. Or maybe it’s because I get to finally live out my high school dream of wearing my boyfriend’s lettermen. Either way, Colby knows that this is my jacket now and he’s going to have to fight me to the death for it back. I don’t know if it’s because I freshly showered and my hair is fluffy, or because my skin is thanking me for not putting makeup on it yet, but something is compelling me to take a selfie in Colby’s bathroom mirror.

I get up on to the counter and try to position myself comfortably. I take a few selfies, while carefully not exposing Colby’s messy counter. I do cute poses with peace signs and my tongue sticking out. I do serious “model” poses with hair looking like I’m in a photoshoot. I take a couple and post them on my Instagram story. I triple check each one before pressing send to make sure they end up on my close friends’ list and not my public story. That would be disastrous. I saw how people were acting in the comments of my tweet supporting Colby when a fan posted an edit wishing we were dating. I can’t imagine how his fan base would react if they knew we really are dating and have been for well over a year.

Well, I can imagine how they would react, I’ve been around Colby long enough to figure out how his fanbase functions. Most of his fans would be supportive. Of the majority, there would be roughly half who constantly would show their support over our relationship. The other half would keep quiet and try not to mention it directly so they don’t “jinx” it. No matter how open Colby is with his fans, there is still so much of his life that he has to keep private from the rest of his fans who wouldn’t be supportive of our relationship. The obsessive ones who think that Colby is a toy and belongs to only them. In all honesty, Colby and I probably would have been together longer if it wasn’t for them. We probably wouldn’t have been friends. There was a period in his life when he wouldn’t make any new female friends because of what his old friends had to go through. Because of that, Colby has always been protective of me.

Even though we’ve been friends since he moved to Los Angles, he only introduced me to his fandom two years ago. Even then, it wasn’t like, boom: “here’s a girl that I’m friends with, be nice!” Colby made sure I was properly acclimated to his side of internet stardom by having me appear in all of his other friends’ videos and photos first before a strand of my hair was placed in one of his videos. And then he said, “here’s a girl that I’m friends with, be nice!” Being a Youtuber myself, I have some experience with fandoms. But nothing could prepare me for his intense fans. For the first couple of months after Colby put me on his channel, I understood why Colby kept so many of girl friends in the dark or why some chose to stop being friends with Colby in general. It’s only a select few fans, but when there are so many comments of harassment and death threats it can get overwhelming.

Those comments died down after a while though. Mostly because I either mute certain words from my comments or I don’t read them. Colby and I try really hard to hide our relationship. If we’re in videos together, we don’t sit too close. We keep our hands to ourselves; even a simple hand on the shoulder can cause a frenzy. We only post our couple pictures on our actual secret Instagram accounts and close friends list. Our friends know not to post anything where we might look too much like a couple. We make it a point to bicker like siblings whenever we do work together. Hell, the reason I still have my apartment is to avoid people finding out we’re dating. If I have my own place, people just think I’m visiting the guys whenever I’m over. And it works, everyone just assumes that we’re really close friends.

“I’m back and I bring food!” Colby yells as he opens the door to the room. I plug my dying phone back into the charger before abandoning it in the bathroom to greet Colby.

“Oh thank God, I was beginning to think you were with your hoes. But then I ran into Sam, Jake, and Corey in the kitchen so I relaxed.” I give Colby a quick kiss and help him with the shopping bags in his hand. I set them on the bed and start going through them.

“I wish, but they were too busy for me. So I went and got us stuff for this weekend.” Colby sets the food down and helps me unload the bags.

“Oh that reminds me, we need to stop by my place after dinner so I can pack my things.” Te whole friend group is renting a log cabin in woods for Thursday to Monday morning for bonding and to get a few collars done. Colby went and got a few road trip snacks without me. Probably because I would get distracted at Target and we would never leave. It’s fine, he remembered to get my favorite snacks.

“Yeah, okay, I figured. We could have gone earlier but I had to let you sleep in after you spent all night watching tiktoks.” Colby walks over to the couch and starts to set up our lunch in front of the tv.

“To be fair, I’m not responsible for the time lost when I’m on the tok. Besides, I learned more dances to teach you!” I take off Colby’s jacket and set it at the foot of the bed before joining Colby on the couch.

“Of course you did. You know how much I love learning a new TikTok dance every day.” Colby jokes before kissing my forehead. He hands me my food and turns on Netflix.

A few minutes into our show, there’s a loud, rapid knock at the door. Annoyed, Colby paused the show and puts his food down.

“What?” Colby asks as he gets up to open the door. Sam stands on the other side, relieved. The last time Sam knocked on the door like that, Colby and I were busy… rearranging furniture.

“Oh Colby, you’re home. But I’m not here for you. Y/N, did you mean to post that on your story?” Colby moves aside to let Sam in.

“Haha, Sammy, I’m not falling for that one. Colby already tried that on me last week.” I go back to eating my food and ignore Sam.

“No, I’m being serious. Katrina said she kept trying to reach you but you’re not answering. Fans are freaking out on twitter.”

“Oh shit!” I quickly put down my food and grab my phone in the bathroom. There are miss calls and texts from Kat, Tara, and Devyn. I unlock my phone and open Instagram to check my story. Sure enough, I accidentally sent one of my selfies to my main story instead of my close friends. The selfie looks harmless enough, except I’m wearing Colby’s jacket and it’s very obvious that I’m in his bathroom. Jake moved in some of the cardboard Colby’s into Colby’s room and one of them faces the mirror, you can kind of see it in the selfie. Most people might think nothing of it, but earlier this week Kat and Tara posted pictures of them wearing Sam and Jake’s jackets. With that association alone, everyone is going to find out.

“I don’t get it, there’s only a selfie on here. Did you already delete it?” Colby yells from the bedroom. I slowly walk out of the bathroom with a confused look on his face.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” I open up my story and check how many people have seen it.

“What, I’m lost… Oh… Oh! Oh, fuck!” Colby finally gets it and does something on his phone.

“‘Oh fuck’ is right. So many people took screenshots that even if I deleted it now, it would be pointless.” I walk to the bed and throw myself facedown, like a teen in a movie after having a shitty day at school.

“And you guys are trending on Twitter,” Sam says. I almost forgot he was still here.

“Dude,” Colby warns.

“Not helpful, I get it. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Sam leaves the room and I let out a scream as soon as I hear the door close. I feel the spot next to me sink as Colby sits down and starts rubbing my back.

“Hey, Y/N, these aren’t as bad as you think. I’m only seeing positive messaged. Look,” Colby gently pats my back to get my attention.

“Really? Let me see.” I sit up, sniffle, and peek at Colby’s phone as he reads.

“Are you crying?” Colby asks as he wipes my face.

“I immediately got overwhelmed. Let me read the tweets.” I take Colby’s phone scroll through the tweets. He’s right, they’re mostly positive. I haven’t seen a negative tweet yet. That’s the opposite of how I thought this would go. A few people are telling other fans to stop assuming, but even those are calm compared to the fight I saw earlier.

“See, I guess we were stressed all this time for no reason. We can do normal couple things like our friends and not go out of our way to hide everything.”

“That’ll be nice. It was getting exhausting. What do we do now? How do you want to approach this? Live stream? Youtube video?” I look at Colby and he has a big smile on his face.

“Right now, let’s just finish lunch. We can deal with this later. Now, I’m going to take this back. I don’t want you to start crying again.” Colby strokes my hair and kisses my forehead.

“I love you, Colbs,” I say softly.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[maybedefinitely404]

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely. 

Most of the time, that is. 

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those. 

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did. 

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his. 

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started. 

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him. 

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now. 

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter. 

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer. 

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut. 

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin. 

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit. 

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him. 

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things. 

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Logan has autism. 

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum. 

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough. 

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile. 

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet. 

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water. 

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes. 

He was art, plain and simple. 

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?” 

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up. 

“Sorry.” 

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop. 

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

 Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO! 

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands. 

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that. 

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly. 

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused. 

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?” 

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would. 

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break. 

 ‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly. 

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.                            

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to. 

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed. 

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay. 

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay. 

This is all going to be okay.

[thewritingof-therose]

Hi! Last week, with the publishing of the 20th chapter of Hasard, I reached the 100 kudos on the fic, so to celebrate it, here’s some kind of bonus chapter where I talk a little about the conception of the story, along with comments about each chapters. 

Enjoy!

----

So… 20 chapters and 100 kudos already. To be honest, by the time I started imagining this story, I wasn’t really expecting to be able to celebrate that milestone of kudo on a single fic and even if I already celebrated the 2000 kudos in general this year, if we make a quick calcul based on the numbers of kudos and all the fics I’ve published, at the time I’m writing those words, it’s the same that if each one of my fic had only 20 kudos… So yeah, finally reaching the hundred on a single one makes me so happy \o/

Anyway, here’s some trivia and fun facts about Hasard and the first twenty chapters of the story.

First of all, some history:

I had the idea for Hasard in May 2018 as I was watching the tv show Lucifer (I am not up to date with it, please don’t try to spoil me this show ^^’) and I imagined one scene that just… shaped the entire story and it took me less than a few hours to know that I would write it. Even if I wasn’t sure how long it would be and that there had been some changes. And no, I won’t tell what scene kickstarted it all because she still has to come and it could be quite a huge spoiler. 

Following it, my brain quickly went into developing the full story and a few things changed. On the top of my head, I can say that Maiev was meant to be more on her own, almost a complete independent Hunter that would have also been resented by the other Hunters, along with a way more black and white view of the demons. She was meant to be more aggressive against all demons and really thinking that they all deserved to die, but I softened that side of her as I shifted the world building with the presence of hybrids. 

At first, the hybrids were meant to be a really rare kind and I wanted to keep that status for a few select characters because it could have brought some really good story for them. Then, as I kept working on the worldbuilding, I came to the idea that actually, hybrids were extremely common, but at the same time, the demon’s presence was still a secret from most of the world because most hybrids started centuries ago and their blood and physical attributions were weakening the more they were reproducing. So, about 80% of the world is made of hybrids of all kinds of generation (who is my way of scaling the demonic influence on their life) and the 20% left is shared with the full demons and full humans. 

Full demons are simply people who don't have a single drop of human blood in them. Usually, they are born from two other full demon parents or they just appeared like that (that’s the mytho). They are extremely powerful and good magic users, but now, they are rare. It was easier to be a full demon millenia ago when they ruled over the world and the few that are left in the current world of Hasard, survived either by hiding really well, manipulating their way to stay alive, or simply because they accepted to work with the humans and they went on. 

My best example of a full demon is Velen. 

The full humans, are the humans who either had never gotten a single drop of demon’s blood in their bloodlines, either they purged the bloodline after making sure that there had been at least 10 generations since the last time a hybrid was born (technically, every child following it would be considered as an hybrid, but the other parent would be a full human to weaken the demon’s blood which each new generation). Full humans are rarer than full demons and they tend to be bad news as almost all of them are associated with the Priesthood (who’ll get some more explanation later.)

I haven’t presented yet one of them to give an example, but one is ready to show up in the Second arc of the story. Won’t say who to not spoil the surprise x)

As for hybrids, there are two kinds. The one born from a demon and a human, and or hybrids (two hybrids will keep creating hybrids and technically, as long as one of the parents has human blood, the bloodline will stay a hybrid one). And the second one hadn’t been introduced yet. We have characters that are that kind, but it’s some worldbuilding elements that will show up later and so, I'll keep it to myself for now. Feel free to theorize though! And usually, most hybrids will simply call themselves demons instead of showing signs of weaknesses by not being a full one.

For the title of the story, it had been extremely hard for me to find one. Ever since I started preparing everything, it had a codename and it was “Modern AU” and it stayed like that until the very minute of the publishing of the first chapter. I was already going towards “Le Hasard Fait Bien Les Choses” but I was bothered because it was French, and no matter what, I couldn’t find a good English idiom that would have all the nuances of the French one. The only thing that comes close to it would be “Fate is a funny thing” and yet, I’m not entirely satisfied with it. So, after a long debate with myself and help from other people, I came to the conclusion that I had to keep the French title if I wanted to be happy with it. 

It might not help much to get people interested, and I’m considering adding “Fate is a Funny Thing” after it but I’m debating it.

I think that's already a lot, so let's move to the trivia per chapters:

A Muffled Shout In The Night

Oh boy, first chapter! I was so excited to finally start the story but I was also really stressed. I tried to give away a quick summary of how the universe was working, along with my two main characters + showing up the first supportive characters towards Maiev. Trying to present all the cast (so adding Illidari and more about Illidan) right in that chapter wouldn't have really worked so, instead, I went to show that a more "Legion-y" timeline could be expected thanks to Khadgar and Velen's presence in the chapter. 

I kinda hope that I succeeded to already show Maiev's obsession towards the Betrayer through her first lines.

Though I will be one hundred percent honest with you. The end of the chapter with Illidan running away, don't expect much from that interaction. I kind of always forget about it unless I'm reading back the chapter… I only needed a reason for them to stop fighting and the chapter to carry on.

But who knows, maybe I'll tie it to something one day.

Two Black Coffees And A Meeting, Please

When writing it, I always knew that Drelanim was on the other side of the call (or at least another Hunter) but as I read the moment a few times, I realized that I could have gone for a completely different way. One that would have probably surprised everyone.

But yeah, in another universe, it's Illidan who calls Maiev because he's in front of her place as they decided to meet for breakfast there. It would have been quite nice and unexpected for the story, especially that Illidan would have gotten right away the reveal that Maiev was actually the Warden as she would have complained about the wounds of the night. 

In the end, I went on with my first idea and made them meet for good in the chapter.

And, like with the first chapter… the "current problem" that he talks about to Kor'vas went nowhere… I'll more than probably get him to acknowledge some uninteresting side story for it at some point.

Memories Of A Rainy Day That Will Never Be Forgotten

For that one, one word: Ouch.

By the time I started to write this chapter, I was also preparing the Advent Calendar of 2019 and I had decided on telling Naisha's story, and I had to realize that I still had to foreshadow some elements from it to make it work. Of course, the title is fully referencing the day she died and the demon that Maiev killed right at the beginning of the chapter was similar to Naisha, putting Maiev in a stabbing mood. And it led us to another necessary addition for the Calendar's chapter: Malfurion.

(I'm also wondering how many people guessed right away that Malfurion was the one Illidan was calling…)

Brother, My Brother, Tell Me What We're Fighting For? 

Even if Malfurion had more of a cameo than anything in the Calendar's story, I felt the need to introduce him to put the bases of the twins' relationship. I always knew that he was a doctor and that he was mostly helping Illidan when he was getting in trouble, and as their backstory is different from WoW and that they are both demons, I didn't want to go on the canon path for them. 

I cannot tell much about it because we'll get fast to their backstory (Second arc) but here, Illidan and Malfurion mostly grew up in a world where it was them against the rest of the world. They were born during the glorious days when demons ruled the world and they saw it change through the millennia that followed. After everything, they would be devastated to lose the other and suddenly be the only one left. This is why they are way closer than they could ever be in canon (and also Tyrande isn't part of their backstory so it helped them keep a good relationship). Sometimes, they part ways for a few decades. Malfurion goes back to medical school somewhere and makes sure that he's up to date for it, or Illidan just moves with his clan to experience new things. But they stay in contact and always come back in proximity of one another.

The end of the chapter was my obligatory "shock reveal/cliffhangers" before a break. But well, I wanted to keep the Legion's existence in my sleeve for a little longer, but I realized that it would allow me to make them into a concrete threat as the story will progress + allowing Illidan and, mostly, the Illidari to be a little more presents into the story.

Actually, the chapter's name comes from a song from the occidental version of the first Pokemon movie. It's a line from the song that plays when the Pokemon and their clone fights, and i used it mostly for the brother's mentions and because it would totally be a thing said by one of the twins in their past…

A Flower Arrangement Made With Your Face In Mind

At that time, I wanted to make a chapter to develop a little more the supporting characters of the cast, and as I was taking back the writing of the fic after a four or five months break, I thought it would be nice. 

So, we got a little side dish of Illidari for it and that’s pretty much the only chapter (until now) where Illidan or Maiev barely appears in it. Yet, I threw some worldbuilding and foreshadowing in it and I still like it, so it isn’t really a filler.

I’ll probably do more chapters like that in the future, but I’ll see with the pacing of the story.

Willingly Accepting Your Death Isn't As Easy As I Thought

I don’t have much to say about this chapter. I still really like it and especially Maiev and Velen’s interaction. 

Along with showing that we were far from a potential romantic relationship, at least on Maiev’s side x)

A Laugh That Will Echo Through The Ages

Oh my God, that chapter! I could probably talk about it for hours but we would quickly reach the spoiler territory so I’ll see what I can tell without shooting myself in the foot.

I loved giving Khadgar some more identity and I like his relationship with Maiev. In the story, they are around 10 years apart, with Khadgar being the youngest. He’s like an honorary younger brother to every Hunter and even if Maiev won’t admit it, she’s kinda thinking the same. 

If he had been in the spotlight for this chapter, it was actually because I was thinking of writing his backstory for the Calendar of 2020 but in the end, I scrapped the idea and wrote something else. But It’ll happen at some point.

You Were In My Dream Last Night, And I Found You That Morning

A simple and nice chapter to calm down from the action heavy that was the precedent. I do throw some crumbs of foreshadowing and backstory, mostly for Maiev, but we will have to wait quite some time for the full one. Even if to be honest, before I release it fully, there will probably be some people that will stitch everything from my crumbs.

Illidan’s dreams are meant to be a plot point all through the story, and I decided to start them with this chapter. And of course, we can see that it’s the first chapter where Illidan, even if he isn’t conscious of it, starts to like Maiev more than he should have at that point.

A Red Dress And Heels To Hide The Knife In Plainsight

I loved writing that one. Showing that Maiev had more hobbies than hunting demons, along with showing how you had to act to get her to do things that she would refuse to do otherwise. Most of the time, if Sira gently asks if she wants to go do some shopping, Maiev always has something else to do. Not that she hates shopping, just that she thinks there’s better things to do. 

I could probably go more about Worgens and their existence, but it would spoil some part of the story :/ 

And honestly, I had an alternate version of this chapter where Illidan saw Maiev and Sira hurrying in the streets, followed them and he would have eavesdropped on the conversation about him. It was obviously bad because it was confirming that Maiev was at least a Hunter (which he won’t know until a while by that time) and it would have been totally an excuse for smut x)

A Warning Falling In Deaf Ears

With this chapter, I’ve been working on mixing the idea of chapters 5 (to concentrate on rest of the cast) with more of the main story. Like that, I show that there’s more than Illidan and Maiev in this universe, but at the same time, I’m still progressing their story by sharing the chapter between the two. I really liked writing Kayn like that and I think that one of my favorite things to write in this story, it’s Illidan and Malfurion interacting.

A Touch So Familiar, Yet So Strangely Threatening

I remember writing that chapter and suddenly realizing that it was going to be longer than the precedent, and i thought for a moment that I had to cut it in half, but I couldn’t find a satisfying way to do it, and it would have fucked up my outline, so I just carried on with it until I had told everything that I had to. 

With that chapter, I’m trying to show that Maiev can be really crazy when it comes to the Betrayer and his followers, but I can assure that she wouldn’t wound any of the Hunters, even if they cannot really be sure about it. And the little dialogue with the B-word made me laugh and yes, Maiev already called the Betrayer a bitch to his face. In 13 years, it would have been weird that she didn’t think of it at least once.

For the rest of the chapter, I just wanted to show that Maiev and Illidan were becoming comfortable with each other + setting up a reason for her to be worried about Illidan to show him her good side.

Screaming Under The Full Moon Won't Change Your Fate

The one thing I keep from this chapter, is that I can’t wait to dive more into Velen and Maiev's relationship.

Otherwise, yeah, if Illidan were to go into a fight only wanting to use magic, he could kill Maiev without breaking a sweat. But he likes the challenge and feels like it wouldn’t be satisfying to annihilate her with just a spell, so he’s fighting blade against blades, unless Maiev is really close to kill him.

A Fateful Call That Only You Can Be Blamed For

I have nothing much to say about it. It was one chapter that I really wanted to write and publish, because it’s the one where Illidan just let his guard down around Maiev for good, and now that he won’t try to trap her into admitting that she is the Warden, it allows him to see Maiev in another light.

That anyone can guess what it is.

Oh yeah, just that I threw some good crumbs of the fact that Illidan is a self-loathing addict in my fics and that it’s one of the reasons he falls so hard for Maiev after this chapter. But it’ll be a good talk for either another chapter, or later.

Going Separate Ways For A Night But Not The Life

Nothing to say, it was a transitional chapter to show that Illidan really believes that Maiev isn’t the Warden, and that there’s more than the fight to them.

Stab Me Once, Shame On You. Stab Me More Than Twice...

A fun little chapter. Velen is more modern than most people can believe and once again, I like writing about the interactions between Illidan and Malfurion. Of course, if you go back to read this one after chapter 20, you might see that I already knew how it was going to happen from this chapter, as the 20th got his title in this one.

I just hope that people read the story from the Advent Calendar 2020 to know what happened in the middle of it.

And From There, Fate Laughed At Them

I could talk for hours about Cordana in my AU. I just love what I’m going to do with her characters and I hope that my readers will like it too. 

But to give some crumbs, Maiev and Cordana have been best friends since high school and she’s the first long-time friend that Maiev had made in her life and thanks to Cordana, she met with Sira and the group, but most importantly Velen. Cordana is a hybrid of sixth generation, so her demonic attributes are almost non-existent, but she kept some supernatural ability from her legacy. She knew from a very young age that she wanted to hunt demons and protect people, and met with Velen early to prepare her future job. Once she discovered that Maiev had some natural abilities to hunt demons, she saw them as the future “Best Best Friend and Hunters” and convinced Maiev to give a go to the hunt. She was forced to move out in another city but she kept contact with Maiev and the rest of the group. In terms of strength, abilities and hunting score, she is right behind Maiev.

Otherwise, I will add that I had a lot of fun writing the conversation between them about Illidan and how he would be better than the Betrayer *winkwink*.

I didn’t make it clear in that chapter and it won’t be important, but Khadgar has a crush on Cordana.

Cordana meant well with the message, and even if in real life, I would condone such action, here, I needed it to move things around because yes, neither Illidan nor Maiev would make the first step if it wasn’t for Cordana.

During the fight, at the beginning of the scene, Illidan totally complimented the Warden on her abilities but don’t try to make him admit it.

Last thing: my nickname is Fate. I’m the one laughing.

Games, Games, All Is Games

I don’t really have anything to say about this chapter.

Sometimes, Cowardice Allows The Survival Of The Smartest

To be perfectly honest, I regret how I handled Cordana’s week in the story because I’ve barely done anything with her but I can explain where the problem is. I knew that I wanted Illidan to discover the warden’s identity on chapter 20, and I planned all my updates around that one fact, but when it came to the outline, I wasn’t sure what to tell between the chapter 13 and 20 to reach that point and thanks to the Calendar, I moved things around that one and I ended up having the idea of making Cordana appears (She should have come in person in the story much, much later). And as I needed chapters 18 and 19 to build up to the reveal, I ended up completely stuck and making her appearance too fast and if it wasn’t for the message, she would have been useless to the story. But I realized it too late and I couldn’t rework my outline in time.

But well, i’ll give her a better mini-arc in the second arc of the story to atone for it.

Otherwise, I hope that the feel of the countdown to the reveal starting by the end of the chapter had been caught by some people x) It’s obvious to me, but well, i’m the writer.

Step By Step, Tick Tock Said The Clock

Just a build up chapter for the 20th. Even if I really like it and that I’m preparing the ground for future plotlines but I’ll let you guess which one it could be x) 

I know I haven’t make it clear in the chapter, but Malfurion knew that Illidan was lying when he pretended that his problem was the Warden “may-be-may-be-not-a-hybrid/demon” but as he also know that his brother is a “stubborn motherfucker” he let it slid. 

And yes, somewhere in my mind, there’s an alternate universe where Maiev accepted Illidan’s invitation and that they would spend the evening at her place. Without a reveal first.

Any Last Wish?

I don’t really have something to add to this chapter. I succeeded to write it just as I wanted.

I just had a long debate with myself as to how I wanted it to end, as I had the choice between cutting it right as Illidan is saved by the Warden (maybe not revealing her identity before the next chapter, or it would have been the last line) or just as I did, by them reaching her place first. I chose the latter because I want Chapter 21 to start with a really specific scene and I thought that it was better than a cheap cliffhanger. 

The last thing I'll add, is that for the story to go well, I had to make Illidan be the first to be aware of the identity of the other, mostly because he can be the one to change his mind more easily about wanting to kill the Warden. If it had been Maiev discovering that Illidan was the Betrayer at this moment of the story, he would have died.

And now, because I'm not done yet, here’s some info about the bonus chapters that were published independently from the main story!

AC Day 8: A Morning

First calendar, in 2018, and I already knew that I was going to write Hasard. It had no name by this time, but I had written that small scene to try out a few things and see how it’ll work.

There’s a really high chance that I end up rewriting it for the main story, but I think that a few elements will change. We’ll see.

AC19 Day 24: Hasard: Naisha

Probably the worst (in terms of feels) chapter of the story yet.

Naisha is probably the character who had a story and fate the closest to canon and I wanted to keep it like that, as it allowed to shape even more the hate between the Warden and the Betrayer. Honestly, she wasn’t deserving of a death like that, especially that if the Betrayer hadn’t intervened that day by trying to kill Maiev, Naisha would have survived.

Actually, in any other universes/storylines possible, she would have survived. Unfortunately for her, she fell right into the feud and became a victim of it.

At this point of the story, Illidan isn’t even completely aware of what happened that day, and he has no idea who Naisha was. All that he knows is that he thought to have killed the Warden, only to find her, even more angry in the following week. He just knows that he had killed the wrong person, but he had no idea who. Maiev herself doesn’t know for sure that it was the Betrayer the culprit, as she couldn’t see clearly in the rain.

Of course, it’ll end up being brought up in the story :)

AC20 Day 8: Hasard: Malfurion’s Hellish Day

It should have been Khadgar's backstory actually for that Calendar. But even if I have a good idea about it, I realized that I wasn’t completely inspired and that I was missing a few details to be able to write it. So, in the end, I went desperately after another idea and thanks to Melowen, I think, she got me on the idea of writing about Malfurion.

In the end, this chapter, meant to be a funny one with Illidan and Maiev forced to be in the same place for the same job, with Malfurion, aware that it would be a catastrophe to let them discover the truth, ended up shaping the last chapters currently published.

And if you are wondering, no, Illidan wasn’t trying to trick his brother in giving him the secret identity of Maiev. He was just trying to get his brother approbation about the woman he was starting to crush on.

The line: ‘“Yeah, everyone tells me that I look like a famous actor,” Malfurion faked a chuckle, glancing at the woman.’ is a reference to my Bodyguard AU where Illidan is an actor. 

Alright, that’s all for the trivia! Thanks for reading this bonus chapter, and the main story until now, and I hope you’ll keep enjoying reading Hasard!

Rose

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: hidden side 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.4k words

𝐚𝐧: Thank you for the request ♡ Lowkey based off similar experiences from school lol ~♪ I had so many different ideas, but I wanted to write this one for a while so here we go! P.S, happy belated birthday @starryneve​ :> ♡

Normally he’d be able to withstand not opening his phone every few minutes— he’d always make sure to clear all his AP, LP, SP, BP, whatever P before heading to work. Stamina bonuses were never a problem too, either he’d head to the comfort room or log-in during lunch break.

However, events were simultaneously running right now and he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna rank in the top 1%, no, 0.1%.

Itaru discreetly looked around the office, and as soon as the coast was clear he opened up his desk drawer. His phone was stored inside, his team of expensive waifus auto-battling against the enemies for this event.

They weren’t doing bad at all, but he trusted himself a little more than the AI.

As he went over the best skills to use on the final boss, he heard a knock against the divider separating his desk from his co-workers.

“Code red, Chigasaki-san.” You muttered, volume low enough so only he’d be able to hear you.

Yikes, a red so early in the day? His boss must want something done immediately.

He hastily shut the drawer, sighing in relief that the metal filing cabinet barely made any noise.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully as he watched his boss approach from the corner of his eye, already looking agitated with a word yet to be spoken.

“Chigasaki, I need you to work on a new project,” his boss drawled on with the details; Itaru’s ears somehow being able to pick up on the necessary information despite all the words blurring in his head. Something about a presentation being needed and closing a deal— he’ll just check his email for specifics.

He continued to nod, pretending to absorb everything when in reality he was just looking forward to finishing the battle and getting his rewards.

However, hearing your name halted his movements. As you peaked over from your desk, Itaru could tell even you looked a little caught off-guard at the sudden mention.

“Yes, sir?” you questioned, swiveling your chair to face the two men.

“Since you’ve dealt with GeneSys before, I’m assigning both you and Chigasaki as the heads,” he explained, “there shouldn’t be a problem with this arrangement, right?”

“No, sir,” you replied.

“Not at all. We’ll start on the project as soon as possible,” he sent off his boss with a polite smile as the both of you watched his back disappear.

The silence restored in the room, you let out a quiet laugh to break the tension. “Honestly, thank god I’m partnered with you,” you sighed in relief, before humming thoughtfully “although I might get some envious stares for a couple of days.”

He pursed his lips.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he said, but by the twinkle in your eyes, he could tell you knew he wasn’t being truthful.

Not that he minded. It would be an understatement to say he was pleased you were the one assigned to help him; if he could set a favourite co-worker, it’d probably be you. Not only were you dependable with work, but you didn’t bother him needlessly either. Even so, the two of you weren’t exactly friends, at least not until a month ago.

“Thanks for saving me. If he found out I was using my phone…” he trailed off as you shook your head understandingly.

“It’s fine, Chigasaki-san. After all, you’ve saved me a bunch of times as well,” you reminded him, “so what were you doing this time?”

Oh crap, he probably should get back to the game. He shouldn’t keep his waifus waiting, right?

“Oh, just messaging my troupe mates. They wanted to know what time I’d be home for practice,” he lied, pulling the drawer open and quickly selecting the skills and moves to beat up the final boss.

After collecting his rewards, he saw the little red exclamation point by the bento box icon. Lunchtime stamina bonus time~

“I didn’t realise it was 12 already,” he mentioned off-handedly, missing the way you jolted up for a second before pulling open your file drawer as well.

“Should probably have lunch in a while,” you said, unknowingly opening the same game Itaru was playing. “Want to eat lunch together? I’ll go over my previous experience with GeneSys Tech Corp.”

“Sure. The faster we get this over with, the better.”

‘So I could get back to my games in peace,’ the both of you thought.

Corporate slaves needed more rights. The project wasn’t so difficult that he’d collapse in exhaustion, but he was definitely frustrated with all the demands that needed fulfilling.

Should he game to destress? Ah, but he once he starts he might not be able to stop-

Itaru’s phone screen lit up, and he would have thought it was a game notification if it wasn’t for the ringtone blaring. As soon as he saw your name, he wondered if you somehow picked up on the fact that he was planning on slacking off taking a break.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, voice calm and not at all angry— right, he can strike off the ‘my co-worker has a 6th sense?’ theory. “Sorry to disturb you, just felt like checking in. How’s work going from your side?”

He looked at the graph currently shown on his desktop, already feeling a headache incoming. “Not too bad, could be better,” Itaru answered vaguely, not wanting to give you a bad impression.

He couldn’t figure out whether you believed him or not, the only tell being the hum you let out.

“Same boat, then. Seriously, for a company whose most relevant success is a video game in the 90s…”

Itaru immediately perked up, pressed at the mention of the game. “Right? Then again, what do you expect from them after that total disappointment of a sequel that-“ he suddenly stopped.

If he said any more he totally could’ve been in trouble just there.

“Oh, how’d you know about the video game? GeneSys rebranded themselves a couple years ago, so I didn’t think you’d know about it,” you questioned him, leaving Itaru to scramble for the best excuse he could think of.

Yeah, he’s not about to take the risk and assume you knew the game because you’ve played it before.

“Did some research on the company’s past endeavours,” he began, sounding as nonchalant as he possibly could, “I suppose I got a bit invested.”

That was one way to put it. He still remembered being upset as a teenager that the long-awaited sequel was a total cash-grab.

“Pfft,” you let out a small laugh, and for a moment Itaru felt frantic— did you somehow figure him out? He wouldn’t put it past the you who caught him using his phone, when no one else had, a month ago.

“This oddly passionate side to the princely Chigasaki Itaru-san is really nice.”

He was eternally grateful to whatever higher being (beings?) there was that this conversation was taking place over the phone. Despite the air conditioning, his face began to warm like his phone would overheat after playing for too long.

Seriously, all you said was that side of him was nice— not that you knew the full extent— so why did he feel like a cliche otome MC? Wasn’t he past the stage of getting flustered over stuff like this?

“Chigasaki-san, are you still there?” you called out, and Itaru calmed himself down to the best of his abilities before answering.

“Yeah, sorry. Connection got cut for a bit. You were saying?”

If a smile had a sound, he was definitely hearing it right now. “Oh nothing~ I was just thinking that your fans would be so jealous if I told them I got to see a hidden side of their prince just now,” you teased.

Probably not. It’s not exactly the definition of charming, not even urban dictionary worthy, but he’ll indulge you.

He didn’t even bother covering up the huff that escaped him. “And who knew my dependable and quiet project partner was so chatty? Keeping a guy up this late and distracting him from work?”

It was your turn to be silent, and before he could apologise you beat him to it.

“I didn’t realise it was so late! Sorry, I wanted to chat away the stress,” you explained, “should probably stop disturbing you, right?”

He looked at the time. He’s not sure what he’s doing exactly, but he doesn’t need to go in-game until the reset at midnight— might as well refill his irl stamina too, right? Well, if he could be the bento box that helped you refill your energy, why not?

… Yeah, that sounded better in his head.

“I mean, we could probably talk about work on call… or,” he paused for dramatic effect, “we could just talk.”

Itaru’s equally as relieved as you when you breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, he didn’t want to actually talk about work. It was only the first day of the project, both of you had time to kill. Probably.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna end up sniffing out my secrets?”

He snickered at your suggestion. “Then I’m not the co-worker you should be worried about then,” before you could question who he possibly meant, he continued, “though since you got to see a quote, hidden side of me, unquote, shouldn’t I know more about you?”

“Hmmm? Like what?” you asked.

“Like what you even do on your phone anyway? You’re on your phone just as much as me,” as he uttered those words you were voiceless for a split second, not unlike the momentary silence committed by Itaru minutes ago.

You tittered, your awkwardness not going unnoticed. “Mostly reading e-books, nothing too special.”

Okay, but the way you made it sound gave off the impression of it being fan fiction or something. Not that he’d judge, just a little surprising for you he guessed.

“Oh? What’s it about?”

His suspicion died down quickly enough as soon as you went off about the plot and characters of the story you were reading. He made a noise every now and then to let you know he was still listening, moving to his bed as he slipped on his headphones.

As you ranted about some complicated love triangle he figured would be popular in TV dramas and reverse harem routes, the more he found it undeniable that he enjoyed seeing this side of you, too.

He felt the tension of the workday slip off his system, your voice washing it away. Who knows? Maybe you’d consider a career in streaming or ASMR or something.

A couple of minutes pass by, and Itaru’s wordless responses died down after a while.

“Chigasaki-san?” you asked gently, not wanting to disrupt him should your suspicions be correct. When he didn’t respond, you smiled to yourself. Well, midnight just struck after all.

“Good night, sweet dreams,” you whispered before ending the call.

Imagine finding out from a 17-year old brat that his ranking dipped because he fell asleep listening to his co-worker’s voice while waiting for the reset. He was a little upset at having to spend diamonds just to climb back up the leaderboard, but at least he’s in the top 0.1% again. It was nothing a bunch of grinding couldn’t fix.

What he was mortified about, however, was falling asleep in call. He was the one who suggested staying in the call in the first place, yet he dozed off on you. You didn’t send him an angry text or anything, but he was still prepared to press an f in the chat for himself.

Itaru found that you were already sat at your desk by the time he arrived, prodding at the phone inside your drawer. While it was mostly hidden, if he looked close enough he’d probably be able to see what you were doing.

… Not that he was going to, of course. You were mutuals in this we-secretly-use-our-phones-at-work tendency, he wasn’t going to betray you now! Still, he was a little curious. A peek over the shoulder wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Chigasaki-san, good morning! You looked like you rested well~”

Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time.

“Aha, my apologies. I suppose I was more tired than usual,” he paused, feeling something off— by the way you narrowed your eyes slightly at something behind him he could tell people were probably eavesdropping.

“Don’t worry! It was getting too late to discuss the upcoming project anyway,” you replied, putting emphasis to deter any rumours. Though you weren’t shouting by any means, the sudden volume definitely got you the response you wanted by the upwards pull of your lips. “We can continue working on it now that you’re here.”

As he sat down, turning his chair to face you, Itaru was unable to mask the small grin he sported on his face. “Very cool of you. So you have this side to you as well?”

“I’ve always wanted to try out a scene like that! Though I always imagined myself more on the MC’s side than the ML’s.”

“Hm? MC? ML?” he asked, feigning ignorance to the terms used. Not that those terms were limited to use in games, but still it was a teensy bit suspicious.

“Oh? Uh, MC for main character and ML for male lead,” you explained to him, not knowing that he already knew what they stood for. “Reviews for novels use those terms a lot, so I guess I picked up on them.”

… damn you right, though.

“Didn’t peg you for an office romance lover,” Itaru said, watching you shrug your shoulders.

“What can I say? I’m a versatile person with many interests~” you grinned, the sudden flash of your teeth a little blinding.

Unexpectedly all it took was one late-night phone call for you to be more comfortable around him; he finds himself feeling much of the same. Still, weren’t you getting a little bolder with your vague responses?

Well, if his dating simulators taught him anything, it was clear that you were begging for a response. For an unathletic man, his heart rate increased steadily like a man on a morning jog— the anticipation similar to what he felt when a game continued to throw him pleasant surprises.

“Really? What else are you interested in, then?” he asked, keeping his voice low so that only the two of you could hear each other. On the outside, the two of you probably (hopefully) looked like you were discussing work; at worst, conspiring a business scheme together— the glint in both of your eyes said otherwise.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you laughed quietly, almost tricking Itaru into believing you wouldn’t say any more. “For starters, I’m interested in you,”

He’s, well, more than a little dumbfounded. Shellshocked might be the appropriate word for it. Seriously, who told you it was okay to be so direct? Illegal, absolutely illegal. Someone arrest you already.

Still, his face is as calm and relaxed as ever; you wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong if not for the colour beginning to dust his cheeks.

“What specifically about me?” He could be digging himself a deeper hole, but all the same, he could use this to turn things around.

You rolled your eyes at him, as though the answer was obvious. “Everything, pretty much— though especially your, let’s call it the non-princely persona. I’m onto you, Chigasaki-san~”

He resisted the urge to laugh, pushing down the bubbling feelings of excitement that threatened to leave him.

“Not if I expose you first, sweetheart~” he threatened jokingly.

Thus began a game that would end sooner than both of you expected.

“Chigasaki-san, is it alright if we end our planning session early today?” you asked him, picking up your mug and placing it between your lips. He found himself mirroring you, drinking his coffee as well before responding.

“Sure. You have something you need to do?” He asked curiously, the dip in his smile showing the slightest disappointment on his features.

Work was still stressful as always but your presence, especially over the past week, had made things bearable if not enjoyable at points.

“Yeah. I have to pick up something from a store and I don’t wanna rush before closing time,” you explained, setting the now-empty ceramic down. “Thank you for the drink, Chigasaki-san. It’s easier to work with no one to bother us, you know?”

“Don’t mention it. You treated me yesterday, so it’s my turn now,” he waved off, shutting his laptop to begin packing up his things. “Need me to drive you to… wherever?”

The two of you exited the coffee shop, the cool breeze hitting your faces as the two of you descended the stairs. As you turned to greet him farewell he fought to keep his hand still as he looked at your wind-blown hair, slightly unruly but endearing at the same time.

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say you just wanted to be around me a little longer,” a soft, airy laugh escaping your throat. A smile touched the corners of his mouth and played in the laugh lines beside his eyes.

“Who’s to say you’re wrong, though?” he watched the red creep from your cheeks to your neck, half reveling in his success and half wondering if it went any further. He’s only a little dismayed that you hastily wished him goodbye and ran off to who knows where, but there was always tomorrow.

By the time you enter the game shop you’ve calmed down, for the most part, hair still a little disheveled but otherwise alright. Did playing around and teasing him finally come to bite you in the ass?

Ugh, that felt like a moment in otome games where the MC decides to tease the ML and the comeback has them all flustered and they run away.

Okay, that’s exactly what happened.

Seriously, you were an adult, what were you doing acting like a teenager? Did the dating simulators infect your brain or something?

You browsed through the new figurines to distract yourself, waiting for the inventory manager to retrieve the game you pre-ordered a while back. Once you and Itaru Chigasaki finished this deal with GeneSys you were going to immediately put in all your free hours into playing the game.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a familiar character, his figurine hidden a couple rows back.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a while,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the figurine. Shitty sequels aside, the OG game was totally fun. Maybe it was due for a replay of the game? You could probably dig up the cartridge somewhere in your room.

Distracted by your nostalgia, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it wasn’t for the narrow space causing you two to bump into each other.

“Ah, sorry…” you apologized for blocking the way, about to put back the figurine and move on until you heard your name.

Shit, you knew that voice all too well.

“Chigasaki-san?!” you exclaimed, taking in his widened eyes and knowing your expression wasn’t too far off from his own.

Once the initial wore off, rationality and relief took place. To think you were hiding the extent of your, uh, gaming obsession when in reality he wasn’t too far off, as far as you could tell by the sleek, limited-edition controller he was holding.

Yeah, he might even be worse than you.

“When I implied wanting to spend more time with you, I didn’t think it’d be like this,” he said, a good-natured laugh leaving him. Despite your original embarrassment, you followed suit soon enough.

“I guess we both ended up seeing each other’s secret pastimes at the same time, huh?” you replied, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I was right though,” you began, watching Itaru’s eyebrow quirk upwards.

“Right about what?”

“Liking this hidden side of you,” you smiled in delight as he looked at you uncontrollably fond, finally getting to fix your hair with his free hand.

He’ll ask you out properly some other time, but for now…

“Just the hidden side of me?” he teased, his hand sliding from the top of your head to poke your cheek. “Meanwhile here I am, liking all of you.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes in faux exasperation. “I like all of you, too.”

want to order again?