#My extreme “Almost dying but not” luck finally kicks in

[bitterbutblue]

aventurine x ratio proposal...

i like shiny things but id marry you with paper rings ☆ aventio

~ thought of this idea while i was procrastinating on my sleep and work and had spent over 10 hours straight in bed.. just some aventio fluff.. ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

He stretches his back as he stands from the kneeling position he was previously in, watching the army of four little cake cats stumble and crawl their way towards the food. Aventurine had brought these little guys home one day after his Penacony mission years ago with a worried look on his face that he would deny having. Ever since then, Aventurine has been caring for these cat-like creatures. Black cats often signify bad luck in many cultures, so perhaps by taking these cats in he could give them good luck too.

Dr. Ratio was a weird guy, Aventurine established that pretty early on. He finds himself chuckling at this guy's weird facts and insults he likes to just throw out. He's closed off, irritating, egotistcial and extremely frustrating to work with. So naturally Aventurine falls in love with him. During their time together, Aventurine never expected to find himself so drawn to this individual who just wanted nothing to do with him- or so it seems. He would rather lose everything than admit that reading his 'doctor's advice' and knowing someone out there believed in him when everyone else was against him had him biting his tongue to hold back tears.

Perhaps months, years, decades, had passed since the Penacony event. Aventurine doesn't care, he doesn't have it in him to care about that evening anymore. He looks down at the little creatures that lay at his feet who remind him a bit of an Astral Express member they worked with and he smiles. He's content for the first time. He doesn't need to gamble his way out of this, he doesn't need to lie and hope for the best anymore. Everything he wished for is finally right here in front of him and his heart feels warm and settled but something inside him still nags him. Still tells him he's not done, that he still can't let go of his past because he hasn't done anything deserve it and he beats himself up for that.

"Darling?

He looks up groggily at the source of the voice, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he plops the bag of cat kibble onto the ground. He had been so lost in his own thoughts he didn't even hear the door open. One of the cats paws eagerly at the cuff of his pyjama pants, so he bends down quickly to pick it up. He can't stop the small smile that forms on his face

"Hm?"

How long did he fall asleep for? The morning sun seems to have long set- fading into this sea of orange. A sign that a storm must be nearing. He sighs.

"Must be a sign. Not a good day today, huh?"

Dr. Ratio just purses his lips, eyebrows narrowing slightly as if deep in thought.

Aventurine just laughs.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Perhaps."

Ratio kicks off his shoes, walking into their shared little apartment that is truly overcrowded with those cake cat creatures but they could never complain because they love those cake cat creatures more than anything in the world (perhaps aside from each other). It was these little guys who truly brought them together, aside from almost dying and getting killed.

"I think the day isn't that bad."

He sounded slightly strained, as if he was trying to control the waver in his voice that's beginning to fight its way through his restraint. Aventurine just laughs again.

"Why do you sound ill, doctor?"

The same taunting voice he uses with everyone, he also uses with Ratio. And though Ratio would never admit it out loud, he quite enjoyed the way Aventurine speaks to him- as if always challenging him. Always one step ahead.

He was gonna prove him wrong this time.

But it's harder than he thought it would be.

"I am not ill." He says through gritted teeth as he tries to calm his heart rate.

"You are sickeningly pale." Aventurine jests back.

Ratio takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes as he pulling out the thing he had been hiding from behind his back.

"Trailblazer made you this."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

It was another cake cat creature thing. But this looked different from the rest- it held a striking resemblance to himself. Aventurine takes it into his hands, laughing again as he holds the thing at arms length.

“What is this? Doctor, we can’t take in another-“

“I want to marry you.”

His heart drops and he chokes on air.

His heart begins to stutter as he regains his breath.

“What?”

An unusual blush coats Ratio’s face as he coughs into his fist, averting eye contact. He looks bashful, and it’s adorable. Aventurine was sure he looks the same but he wants to melt into the ground as he brings the.. what does he even call this? Creature? Closer to his chest.

“We should.. get married. I want to marry you- YOU, Kakavasha. I want to raise this.. creation with you. Cultivate a future with you. Grow old with you. I think I like you.”

“You think you like me?” Aventurine chokes out a strangled laugh and Ratio winces.

“I do like you. I am in love with you. We are dating- what am I saying?”

A soft hand reaches up to cup Ratio’s face, tender and gentle. Aventurine smiles, tilting his head to the side as he bites back his own tears that threaten to fall. When was the last time he’s been so loved? Back when people still knew him as Kakavsha, back when he thought he was capable of love. Now he stands as Aventurine with love in the palm of his hand.

“You’re lucky I love you too, doctor.” He says quietly “Becayse my answer is, and always will be, yes.”

[whoreforsplatasha]

Jealousy (Jinx x Female r)

Part 2

series contains- *smut, violence, obscene language*

"Leave the poor girl alone Jinx" I heard a deep voice say from behind me, my eyes opened wide at her sentence still trapped under Jinx's grasp.

she's jinx?! the girl that has complete dominance over me right now is jinx.

Jinx closed her eyes and scoffed, "Or what?" she challenged. "Nothing, I'm sure Silco would be overly thrilled to hear you fucked up things yet again by being wreck-less and overdoing it" Jinx studied me for a long time until the deep voice said "Killing her would just raise more suspicion from the enforcers" Jinx grunted and removed her gun from my head. She gave the woman a look of disgust before stepping away from me. The dark tall woman looked at me and raised her robotic left arm.

that must be sevika

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing on this side fancy pants" I got up and dusted off my pants, "I'm y/n I'm from Piltover and I-" I was cut off by Jinx's witty remark " Yeah no shit" I gave her an unamused look and continued, "I have come to uh..

think y/n think, you can't say 'oh i'm here to kill your boss and his psycho of a daughter'

.. work for Silco.

yeah cause that's wayyyy better than saying you're going to murder them.

Jinx laughed and said "Yeah good luck with that toot-" "Let's see what you've got" Jinx looked angry and began walking towards me when Sevika stopped her. "Silco ordered you be back before noon, he has a mission for you; although I very much doubt you can handle it" Jinx grimaced at her then got extremely close to my face.

her eyes..they're so pretty and her lips.. no wtf , why am i thinking like this she's my enemy.

Her mood changed in a snap of a finger "I'll see you around sugar" she said almost flirtatiously.

I looked in awe as she jumped effortlessly over the buildings before disappearing. Without warning I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen then found myself laying on the stoney ground. "Rule number one, always be prepared" Sevika swung another punch at me this time I barely dodged it and got back on my feet. I succeedingly kicked her in the chest and delivered an uppercut to her chin. Sevika did not hesitate to slam me into the wall with her robotic arm serving me a punch in my jaw. I groaned in pain as I accepted defeat. "If I didn't step in today crazy pants would've killed you" "Gee thanks for the optimism" I muttered sarcastically. "You did give an alright kick for a topsider, but you're no way near ready for a mission yet" Those words stung even more than expected, owning to the fact that those same words haunted me all my life. With a new surge of anger and determination built up in me I bolted towards her cracking a punch in her jaw and using her right arm to flip her over causing her to fall. 

I watched as she got up and spit a mixture of blood and saliva at her feet. "You really want this huh?" she pursed her lips and nodded her head. "Alright y/n you've proved yourself, do I think you're ready for a mission? Hell no, but your moves are promising" I smiled a little and straightened up, "Thank you ma'am" she then motioned for me to follow her. "Oh and a lil pointer, try not to get killed by Jinx it'll be a most painful death." I nodded slowly trying my best not to show off any fear and continued walking behind her.

funny..she should be the one worrying about dying, not me. but sevika is right, i am no match for her right now that bitch is crazy. little does she know, she's training the person that's going to kill both her boss and his daughter.  i smiled at the thought; finally i would prove to my mother that i am worthy of her love and trust.

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[theowhy]

[thiam] following footsteps

2.4k / g / oneshot

note: hello friends :’) long time no post, i just never have any free time these days. my writing brain cells are rusty but here’s a short thing that was meant to be a, uh, christmas fic but that i couldn’t wrangle into shape until now. it’s not terribly contingent on the christmas season and i hope it’s enjoyable even two months late lmao

The cold is the worst thing when Liam finally comes to. Everything bombards him at once: the bruising ache in his back, the smell of dirt and pine and damp clothes. But the cold—that chills him straight to his bones.

“Shit,” Liam says.

“‘Shit’ is right,” says Theo, a disembodied voice somewhere off to Liam’s left because Liam can’t even bear to open his eyes yet. He’d recognize Theo’s presence even if blind or dead.

How annoying. Though in this moment, it gives Liam a weary sense of comfort, knowing he’s not alone.

“What happened?” he groans, bringing a hand up to gingerly touch his temple where a headache currently pounds.

“You got your ass handed to you,” Theo says. He shifts, clothes rustling, a crunching sound beneath his feet.

Ice? Liam opens his eyes.

They were in the forest, he finally remembers. And sure enough, they’re surrounded by dark trees and a white landscape, grey clouds beyond them, a hard ground beneath. There are rocks, too: Theo must have found some kind of outcropping in the hills to shelter from the snow flurrying through the air. Had he dragged Liam under here after… whatever happened before he was out?

“Yes, I dragged you here,” Theo says, then rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, your face was obvious.”

Liam grimaces. “Did I get hit?”

“Thrown through a tree, actually.” There’s way too much pep in Theo’s voice when he says it. He points out away from them, towards a splintered tree stump in the distance. Its other half lies not far past it, slowly being buried beneath the snow. “That one.”

“Ouch.” Explains why Liam’s back is killing him. “What was it?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I got thrown through a tree, cut me some slack.” Liam gingerly moves to sit up and rub some warmth back into his arms.

“It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.” Theo frowns as he remembers. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. This big white ball of… energy. Ice. It got mad when it saw us and blew you into that tree. There’s been a snowstorm ever since.”

“Did you… kill it?” Liam asks apprehensively.

“Hell no, I grabbed you and hauled ass. You’re lucky it didn’t follow.”

“So it’s still out there? We have to tell the others.”

Theo wordlessly digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps the home button. The screen doesn’t light up.

Liam gapes. “Did you seriously bring an uncharged phone out into the middle of nowhere?”

“It’s not my fault you were out for an hour, okay?” Theo snarls. “We were supposed to take a quick look around and go back, I didn’t know some mythical snow spirit whatever the fuck was going to attack us. At least my phone is still in one piece.”

“What?” Dread sinks into Liam’s stomach. He digs into his back pocket, pulls out a mess of circuits and glass and dented metal. He squeaks, “Oh no.”

“Yeah, nice.” Theo sighs. “What is that, your second phone this year?”

“Third.” Liam buries his head in his hands. “My parents are going to kill me.”

It was hard enough convincing them to let him go on this trip to the mountains, where Scott and the rest of the pack had rented a cabin for the weekend. Ostensibly it was to investigate reports of sudden blizzards and extreme snowfall, something Deaton had thought concerning enough for them to check out. But in actuality, none of them expected it to be anything more than some random meteorological weirdness. Scott brought his Nintendo Switch and Mario Kart. Lydia brought wine.

But they’d hardly settled into the cabin before Scott suggested they take a look around before dark, just to get some work in before Mario Kart and chill. Figures Liam didn’t even get the chance to kick Theo’s butt at Mario Kart before the universe decided to screw him over and make his parents ground him forever. It’s not his fault his life suddenly became full of a whole lot more fighting than Liam ever expected, even into his senior year of high school.

“There’s no way I’m gonna try and find my way back in this blizzard,” Theo says, with the finality of a nail into a coffin. “So I suggest you get comfortable.”

Liam sighs, watches the white puff of his breath fade into the air. The wind howls in long, drawn out tones. His whole backside is wet from lying on the ground. His head still hurts.

“Yeah, real easy,” he mutters, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. First things first, try to get his body to stop shivering.

There’s quiet for a moment. Liam’s so preoccupied finding any vestiges of warmth in his body that he startles when something soft is pushed onto his head. He turns his gaze towards Theo.

Theo, whose beanie has now been placed on Liam’s head.

“It ain’t much, but take it,” Theo says, hardly more than a murmur, nearly lost to the sound of the wind. But Liam hears him.

“I’m fine,” he says.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Liam, just take it.”

“But what about you?”

“I can handle a little cold.” Theo crosses his arms tighter, breathes a big exhale that sends a shroud of white around him, thick as smoke. It hides him for a moment but fades away soon enough. His hair is mussed from tugging his beanie off. His nose and cheeks are red, and there are stray snowflakes on Theo’s shoulders, caught in strands of his hair.

It’s more than just a little cold. The beanie helps, in a small way; Theo had given what little he could. That matters, Liam thinks.

It must be that—along with instinctual, human need—that compels Liam to scoot closer until he’s pressed up against Theo’s side.

Theo goes rigid.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Liam.

Finally, Theo says, “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” Liam says simply. “You said get comfortable.”

“Comfortable does not mean sitting on top of me.”

“I’m not on top of you,” Liam scoffs. “We gotta huddle for warmth.”

“Sure, huddle. Not cuddle.” Theo pointedly scoots away. Liam follows. “Liam.”

“Theo, come on. I’m not dying out here.”

“I’m not dying out here, either,” Theo says, then shuts his mouth.

Liam laughs.

“Glad you find this funny,” Theo grumbles, but this close together, Liam can feel the way he relaxes, the way he presses in by one reluctantly given inch. But it’s something.

Liam tugs the beanie more snugly onto his head, trying not to smile. Yeah. It’s something.

It doesn’t change the fact that they’re stuck out here until whichever happens first: the blizzard goes away (not looking likely), the pack finds them (even less likely, given that Liam hopes they have the wisdom to stay out of the blizzard, too), or God intervenes. Liam’s never had much luck with the last one.

So he takes in his surroundings instead. There isn’t much to see, really, besides trees, trees, and more trees. The occasional bush. Plenty of snow. And—

“Oh!” Liam says, sitting up straighter and pointing. “Mistletoe!”

Theo doesn’t even look and says, “Nice try, Liam. If you wanted to kiss, you could just ask.”

Liam sputters and shoves Theo hard on the shoulder, which hardly budges him. Theo smirks. “No, dude, ugh. Christmas was like a month ago, anyway. I mean there’s literally mistletoe growing on the trees.”

“Riveting,” Theo drawls, but humors Liam anyway. He looks out to where Liam’s pointing at a bushy mass growing in the branches of one of the trees ahead of them. “That it?”

“Yeah.” Liam squints. He can see its leaves rustling with the wind, how different they are from the leaves of the oak tree it rests in. “Phoradendron villosum. Pacific mistletoe. Don’t eat it.”

“I know that.”

“Did you know mistletoe is a parasite?”

“It’s poisonous, that doesn’t surprise me.” Theo looks mildly interested anyway, and Liam feels a small thrill of victory over it. It’s not often that he gets to share some biology knowledge that Theo doesn’t already know. “So why are people obsessed with hanging it in doorways and stuff?”

“Why do people do anything? Superstition. Folklore.” A particularly strong gust of wind sends a branch of the mistletoe flying. It lands in the snow a few feet ahead of them. “Some cultures saw it as a symbol of fertility. I guess the white berries remind them of—er.”

An awkward beat of silence.

Theo says, “I hope the snow kills us soon.”

Liam’s face burns. At least he feels a little less cold now.

He clears his throat. “Anyway… It’s also associated with protection from witches and demons and stuff.”

“I never took you for a mistletoe nerd.”

“I wrote a report about them in freshman bio. It was kind of interesting. Makes it a little less romantic to know they actually kill the trees they grow on.”

“How beautiful,” Theo says flatly. “You’re still a nerd, though.”

“Shut up.” Liam nudges his shoulder against Theo’s. The corner of Theo’s mouth tugs up just slightly.

Liam’s never done it before, kissed someone under the mistletoe. Hayden came and went too quickly for them to ever reach Christmas, and there hasn’t really been anyone since. There was never any time. And, more honestly, no one else has ever made him feel quite the same.

Well. Almost no one else.

But that’s only ever been a passing daydream, one that’s plagued him in random moments. On an elevator ride back down to the first floor of Beacon Hills Memorial. In the passenger seat of a truck. In sparse texts, shared late at night long after pack meetings have ended.

In a snowy forest, surrounded by no one else.

“Hey, Theo,” Liam says.

Theo grunts and turns towards him.

“What?” he says.

Liam presses their lips together. Theo stops breathing.

A kiss would describe it generously. Liam breathes when it becomes evidently clear that Theo won’t. That’s fine. Taking him by surprise is pretty nice. In any case, the kiss ends almost as soon as it began, and Liam pulls away from the corner of Theo’s mouth. The warmth lingers afterwards.

“W-What the hell was that for?” Theo stammers—Theo, stammering—and brings his hand up over his mouth.

“Mistletoe,” Liam says.

“You—idiot.” Theo brings his other hand up to cover his face, but it’s not enough to hide the red lingering at the tips of his ears. It’s a nice color. “You are so… You…”

“Yeah, you too,” Liam says, not bothering to suppress a grin.

Theo gives him a look through the gaps between his fingers, and Liam expects him to grind out another poorly executed insult when Theo drops his hands, his eyes widening, mouth falling slack.

“What?” Liam says.

Theo just grabs him by the shoulders and tugs him back, further into their little shelter.

“What?” Liam says again, more irately. He turns to look where Theo keeps gaping over Liam’s shoulder.

He finds a great, big ball of blue. Liam’s voice dies in his throat.

His first thought is of ball lightning, something he and Mason had spent one sleepover watching way too many videos of on YouTube. In truth, they didn’t care for the science of it rather than the fact that it looked super fucking cool. Just a sphere of pure energy and light, sweeping through open plains or swathes of sky. This doesn’t feel quite like that, but on the surface it seems the same: crackling, blue-white energy, swirling in a sphere that must be a meter wide, at least. Its core is opaque, like hard ice, and there’s a strange hum about it as it drifts closer to them.

It is frighteningly close. Theo draws an arm out across Liam, pushing him against the rocks at their back. But the sphere doesn’t attack them, doesn’t whip them with a sharp slice of wind like Liam was hit with earlier.

It only drifts over their hiding spot, passing by like an elk through the woods. Calm and constellated with flecks of ice and snow. Something about it feels as old as time itself.

Both of them hold their breaths as it passes. It disappears over them, drifting over the hill. The winds calm. The snowfall begins to diminish until it ceases completely.

It’s quiet.

They stay still for one, two, three heartbeats. Then Theo drops his arm. They both exhale.

“Holy shit,” Liam says, panting like he ran a marathon. “Was that it?”

“No, it was a different big blue ice ball,” Theo says. “Of course that was it.”

“That… was awesome.” Liam crawls out of their shelter to look around for any sign of it. It’s long gone, not even a trail left in its wake.

“I see you’ve already forgiven it for trying to kill you.”

“I don’t want to get thrown through a tree again, but it didn’t attack us this time. We probably spooked it earlier. And look, it stopped the blizzard.”

“You’re way too chipper for seeing something that unreal,” Theo says, following Liam out.

The newly returned sunlight falls over Theo’s shoulders, making him that much easier to see. Theo turns his face up to the sun. His damp hair curls at his temples.

Despite Theo’s griping, Liam can see the wonder in his eyes, the way they glow. He looks alive. Liam thinks about how the blood inside him and the blood inside Theo must be the same, despite everything.

Liam says, “Hey. Thanks.”

Theo frowns. “Why?”

“For saving me earlier.” And the time before that. And the time before that.

Theo scoffs, and where Liam usually sees shutters falling over his face, a mask piecing back together, now he sees a hint of a smile. Something brighter, underneath.

“Whatever,” Theo says, and snatches his beanie off Liam’s head so he can ruffle his hair aggressively.

“Dude!” Liam yelps. 

Theo laughs and whirls away, tearing through the snow in a direction Liam will have to trust is home.

There’s no hesitation at all before Liam chases after him.

--

note: big ice ball inspired by the leschach entite of ffxii. because..... im a nerd :p 

[ad1thi]

@starklysteve me?? spamming you w recs because i love talking about my ships?? more likely than you think :)) (here’s some rhodeytony to get you started on what is objectively the best tony ship)

i place your hands around my neck:  @fanfictiongreenirises

"Rhodey could practically feel his lungs getting heavier again, weighed down by roots of plants that he’d thought would never take hold in him again."

Or: the one where Rhodey's been pining over Tony for much longer than either of them realised and develops the Hanahaki disease

Pretend We’re In Love (The Heartache Still Hurts): @marvelingjules

Rhodey's dad is dying, and what he's always wanted is for Rhodey to be happily married. Tony and Rhodey were best friends, and haven't spoken in years. But after a chance meeting at the airport, and a desperate, insane idea on Rhodey's part, they end up pretending to be engaged.

But how much of it is really pretend?

i can’t seem to get a grip, no matter how i live with it:  @psikeval

Tony knows he's got no business being a father.

A Million Shades of Blue: @notfknapplicable

“I just know that if I could get to wherever he is, I could find him. Dead or alive, I'd bring him back to us.”

James Rhodes will never stop searching for Tony Stark.

Twenty Five Years: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on. (Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

Leave The Light On: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

He was never doing this for fun. He'd just wanted to stay awake. And whatever you do, please don't tell that guy he's been fucking. He kinda likes him.

coloured in sun: @heleus

The one in which Anthony Edward Stark, having just reached the warm age of seventeen, realizes that he's in love with his best friend.

(The idea is terrifying.)

the planets that bend us: @deathsweetqueen

When Antonia Margaret Stark wakes up on her sixth birthday, it’s to the words: I didn’t get any sleep last night after that fucking lawn mower decided that 7 in the morning would be a perfect time for him to start his day, right outside my room.

She runs a thumb over the long string of words, wrapping around her wrist like a thick leather band.

She smiles.

She’s fourteen when she meets James Rupert Rhodes for the first time.

Written for the "more than a partner" square (S3) for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the "soulmate" square for the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019

we rattle together in a bed of honey: @deathsweetqueen

Toni first met James Rhodes in Cellular Neurophysiology and Computing, when she was fourteen and trying very hard to stay in the shadows. She stumbles into the classroom, clutching her books and binders and pencil case close to her chest, as she stares at everything, wide-eyed and hungry and terrified. She seizes on the contempt, the confusion, the incredulity of the other freshman who look at her like she’s an incongruity – she’s used to that look, all that hate and derision.

She eats it up like chocolate cake.

Much to her luck, all the seats are filled, all except for one towards the middle of the row, a table shared only by a tall, handsome black boy, sleeping on top of the counter.

a winding road that stretches to the truth: @/coulddaughter (this author ostensibly has a tumblr but im unable to locate it -- so if anyone knows what their tumblr is please let me know so i can tag them!)

“Why do you need a date? Also, no offence, but why did you come to me? I stole, like, four of your girlfriends and at least two boyfriends, remember.”

“I do remember that, Tony,” said Jim, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I need you to come on a date with me.”

Love in the Eyes:  @child-of-sunshine

The moment each of the Avengers realized Tony and Rhodey were in love.

The Curious Case Of The Discarded Condom:  @/AssvengersArsemble

Natasha, Clint and Steve get just a little nosy about Tony's love life. Tony finds it extremely amusing they can't see what's right under their noses.

takes a lot of love and compliance: @gyzym

She's born breech, feet kicking out before the rest of her screams free; she's born breech, and never stops running. (Rule 63!Tony)

Targeted Persuasion: @galwednesday

Jim opened Tony's most formal closet and started pulling out tuxedos. "Put one of these on.”

"Why?"

"We're getting married."

Tony froze. "No, we're not."

"Oh yes we are." Jim tossed three tuxedos onto the bed. Three was a good number of options, enough for Tony to make a choice, but not so many that he'd get lost analyzing the ramifications of navy pinstripes vs. charcoal paisley. Tony did best with clear, specific expectations rather than an unlimited universe of possibilities that he would inevitably filter through his neuroses and obsess over, and Jim was really kicking himself for not considering that, oh, ten years ago when they’d first started this, but there was no point in beating himself up about it now when he could put that energy towards solving the problem instead. "You brought this on yourself, Tones. Pick a damn tux."

Five thousand roses: @/forestgreen

She is broken and all the more dangerous for it. The world should tread carefully around the shards of her former self lest they cut themselves on Antonia Stark's sharp edges.

A Guide to Handling the Unhandleable Tony Stark:  @/nightrider101 (this is ab a/b/o verse)

Written for the following prompt on the Avengers Kink meme: The rest of the Avengers assume Tony is an unbound Omega by the way he acts. He's reckless and carefree and does what he wants. Imagine their surprise when they find out that Rhodey is Tony's Alpha. They're all confused at the way Rhodey lets Tony act and how they can be away from each other for long periods of time and Rhodey's just like 'He didn't want to give up his career and I didn't want to give up mine. And I gave up trying to tell Tony what to do years ago.'

It’s Not Bacon Until It Ceases To Be Bacon: @sobebold

Tony has lived with his best friend Rhodey for fifteen years, and everything is perfect.

Until Rhodey finally gets a boyfriend, and Tony's world gets turned upside down.

by any name: @machi-kun

Tony calls him ‘mine’, sometimes.

And he also calls him platypus, honeybear, sugarplum, all those stupid nicknames; but James’ favorite will always be ‘mine’.

Tutor Me: @wisiaden

Tony really wants James Rhodes to be his math tutor. The guy was hot, and if he had to play dumb, well, he can say he hates math.

run and hide: @/starksrhodey

Tony may or may not have a crush on football captain James Rhodes.

Or, Tony is extremely insecure, Pepper knows best, Steve likes to bake, Bucky loves red heads, and Rhodey keeps trying to talk to Tony.

This Is The Real Life: @blancheludis

It takes doing the laundry for Tony to realize he is completely, irrevocably in love with Rhodey. Who knew that the way to Tony Stark's heart is to teach him how to wash his clothes.

Anything For You Darling: @areiton

Tony is sitting on the balcony of his palace in Malibu, and Rhodey hates it, more than he's ever hated anything, watching his best friend stare at the water, limmed by the sun and utterly alone.

"She's dead," Tony says, before Rhodey can ask and he feels his breath catch, his heart stumble.

There's--

Grief. For pretty, troubled Maya with her big eyes.

Heartbreak. For a sweet infant who will never know the mother who gave him up, whose life will never be exposed, now.

Relief. Because Harley is safe. Safe. Gods, he's safe.

or

Rhodey helps Tony raise his son.

it goes like this (just like heroin): @quandongcrumble

He’s twenty-six and you’re twenty-eight and you get a midnight phone call from Obadiah and between the two of you, you manage to beg and bully until you can fly back to the States and sit beside the white hospital bed while they say words like heroin and accidental overdose and that Tony should pull through but Tiberius might not wake up.

It goes like this—for almost sixteen years Tony’s addiction problems are a blight on Rhodey’s relationship with him. Friendships crack and trust is shattered, over and over again.

motor oil and coconut oil: @/halfasgoodasanything

James loves his best friend. He's entirely supportive of his friendship and his almost relationship with Steve Rogers. He is! He is. Carol and Pepper seem to think otherwise, but he's cool. Loving Tony doesn't mean no one else can. Even if he wanted to.

lost and found: @starkslovemail 

“Are you lost?”

Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”

“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”

The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”

--

Written for the RhodeyTony Mini-Bang! Art can be seen on twitter here!

two boy geniuses walk into one frat house: @starkslovemail (part of a series)

There were too many white people at this damn party.

The Other 'Mr Stark': Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour:  @presidentrhodes 

Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“(Based on this prompt: Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home.)

[lan-zhans]

I am... not? | HuaLian

A/N: Oh, hey! Watch me writing trash on side blog! 😀 We all need tickly content with our ships. Don't you think? No?... No? ... I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Are Ghost Kings ticklish? Of course not! Oh, wait...

Words: 2409

Xie Lian's sweet yet nearly hysterical laughter filled up the room.

"Why are you laughing so much, Gege?" Hua Cheng's voice was teasy, swirling inside Xie Lian's ear; his cold lips brushing against the shell, causing a little squeak to break the string of laughter pouring out of him. "What's so funny?"

"San Lahahahahang!" Xie Lian arched his back off the bed in yet another failed attempt to throw Hua Cheng off him; his arms trapped between his and Hua Cheng's chest and under his lover's weight.

He could easily push San Lang off him, he really could, but those fingers mercilessly wiggling and digging playfully under his arms were making his body lose all strength as he squirmed as best as he could, trying to escape the tickling.

Hua Cheng chuckled softly. "Ah, could it be that it tickles?"

Xie Lian felt his face heating up, a deep pink blush spreading across his cheeks for laughing so much and for every teasing word whispered against his ear; tears of laughter falling from the corners of his eyes.

Xie Lian was used to this by now. Hua Cheng always found the opportunity to tickle him: in the morning, when Xie Lian just woke up and was still sleepy and weak, when he was trying to cook, when he was writing down calligraphy exercises for Hua Cheng; goodness, even during their intimate times!

Hua Cheng was always able to turn Xie Lian into a laughing mess, but even if he was used to it, it didn't mean it tickled any less, and he was so weak against it; Hua Cheng knew just which spots to touch to make Xie Lian laugh like mad and squirm under Hua Cheng's playful administration every single time.

Regardless, Xie Lian could not come to hate it, especially when Hua Cheng smiled so brightly at him, (not that he was able to see his smile too often since Xie Lian's eyes were always tightly shut as he laughed), his mischievous eye tinkling lovely and his touch, even though extremely ticklish, was soft and gentle.

He couldn't deny that it was fun... But it still tickled too much!

"Plehehehease!" Xie Lian cried out between his laughter.

"I've never done this to anyone besides His Highness before," Hua Cheng said nonchalantly, completely ignoring Xie Lian's pleas. "So I wonder if San Lang is doing a good job, Gege?"

"No no no no!" Xie Lian squeaked when Hua Cheng quickly changed spots, his nimble fingers moving up to tickle his neck. The Crown Prince's belly laughter turned into uncontrollably giggling as he scrunched up his shoulders, an adorable snort making his his nose vibrate.

Xie Lian could hear Hua Cheng's chuckles as he hummed softly. "Hmm? Is His Highness ignoring me now? I'd like some feedback, please?"

"Yes! Yehehehes!" Xie Lian shrieked out. "Good wohohohork, San Lahahahang!"

"Does Gege think so?" Hua Cheng smirked, purring his words against Xie Lian's flushed ear. "Then I think I will not stop, since His Highness is enjoying this so much."

Xie Lian shook his head, his legs kicking out in a futile attempt to escape his evil husband. "San Lang! I'm dying! I'm- ahahaha!"

Hua Cheng chuckled, "Hmm? But Gege is immortal! He can't die because of a little tickling, right?"

At some point, when Xie Lian's laughter had gone silent and he thought he was going to actually die from suffocation, the dead weight on top of him felt lighter and, with a rather weak push of his arms, he could easily (and finally), throw Hua Cheng off him. Hua Cheng fell dramatically on his back right beside Xie Lian on top of their divan, a very inexpresive 'ah' leaving his lips.

Xie Lian breathed heavily between some residual giggles. "San Lang..." He whined softly.

Hua Cheng chuckled at his side. "Hmm? What is it, Gege?"

Still a bit out of breath, Xie Lian, probably in the heat of the moment, climbed on top of Hua Cheng, straddling his waist as his hands quickly made contact with his sides, squeezing them up and down.

Hua Cheng chuckled and Xie Lian beamed at the sound, his fingers moving faster, not noticing the teasing smile pulling at the corners of Hua Cheng's mouth.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Only then Xie Lian looked up at his lover and his hands froze against Hua Cheng's sides. "This San Lang is not ticklish at all."

Xie Lian's eyes widened, his pink face turning red once again as he stared at Hua Cheng, mouth slightly open and surprise splashed on his features.

"..."

"..."

Xie Lian, "you are lying."

Hua Cheng laughed. "I would never lie to His Highness. This lowly one does not experience that ticklish sensation that sends Gege into hysterics, but," he said, arching one thin eyebrow, a smirk on his lips, "if His Highness is interested, he can try to find something." He smugly placed his arms behind his head like a pillow. "I don't mind being touched all over by Your Highness."

Xie Lian blushed to the tip of his ears and he wondered deep within his heart, when would it come the time when he didn't fall for Hua Cheng's teasing; at this rate... probably never.

However, still embarrassed, he narrowed his eyes. Hua Cheng smiled brightly and quite confidently when he saw that sparkling determination in Xie Lian's eyes.

The Crown Prince nodded. "I will do it," he said, pressing his legs against Hua Cheng's torso, holding him in place. "But so you know, San Lang," he smiled and Hua Cheng chuckled because he was sure Xie Lian tried to smirk, "if I do find a good spot, I will not stop until I'm satisfied."

Hua Cheng nodded, "good luck then, Gege. San Lang will take his punishment... If you success, of course."

Xie Lian was determinated, as soon as those words left Hua Cheng's mouth, he started his attack. He began with his ears, brushing gently against them and scratching behind. Nothing, so he moved down and Xie Lian didn't know whether to laugh or cry when Hua Cheng lifted his chin to expose his neck more. So nothing.

His collarbones, his chest, under his arms, ("You are lying!" "His Highness is very ticklish there, but I really am not!"), his ribs, his sides, his waist - by now the only flustered one was Xie Lian!

Hua Cheng didn't even giggle once! Not even when Xie Lian clawed his gentle fingers against Hua Cheng's tight stomach, (he was almost sure it would work, but maybe just because that's Xie Lian's weakest spot), not even a single chuckle came out of his mouth... No sound except for a teasing yawn that had Xie Lian blushing furiously.

"I told Gege I was not ticklish."

Xie Lian huffed proudly, and Hua Cheng beamed, that was the first time he saw that expression in Xie Lian's face. He was frowning a bit, his eyes slightly wide as he hungrily looked over Hua Cheng's body, trying to find another spot to attack. His pink tongue was sticking a bit between his lips and his nose was scrunched up.

He looked adorable, Hua Cheng couldn't care less about the poking and prodding around his body when Xie Lian was looking so sweet and beautiful on top of him. Honestly, he should-

"Hahahaha!" Hua Cheng's bark of laughter made the both of them freeze. "What-

Hua Cheng lifted himself up a bit to see Xie Lian's hands wrapped around his hipbones; he frowned, feeling the lingering tingling sensation right under Xie Lian's fingers. If he was able to blush, his face would be bright red by now as he saw Xie Lian's face: he was smiling widely, his eyes sparkling at his discovery.

"Did you laugh, San Lang?" He asked, pressing his thumbs into Hua Cheng's hips, making him jump. "Did that tickle?"

"It... Seems like it kind of di- ack! Your Highness, wa- ahahahaha!" Hua Cheng fell back against the divan, his back arching up and his hands reaching down to grab Xie Lian's hands.

"Hands up!" Xie Lian said and much to Hua Cheng's surprise, Ruoye came flying out, unwrapping itself from its master's arms to wrap around the Ghost King's wrists, pulling his arms up until it tied to one of the divan's legs. "I said I would not stop and you said you'd take your punishment. So now take it!"

"Your Highness!" Hua Cheng squealed. "I will keep my arms up, we... don't need Ruoye!"

Xie Lian shook his head, a bright smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he looked down to where his hands held Hua Cheng's hips. "I am going to start now. Do not pull too hard or you'll tear Ruoye up."

"Your Highness!" Hua Cheng tried again. "Your Highness, this San Lang was wrong, I didn't thought I could be- stahahap!"

His reaction was instantaneous, he bucked his hips up, almost throwing Xie Lian off him. He tried to hold his laughter in, not used to the sensation sending shiver up his spine, but as soon as Xie Lian used his thumbs to rub deep circles against his hipbones, he threw his head back, letting out clear and loud laughter that made Xie Lian laugh as well.

"G-gege! Gehehehege, wait!" He begged, trying to squirm away from the situation.

Xie Lian giggled. "No waiting, San Lang, please enjoy my revenge."

Hua Cheng shook his head as heavy laughter made his body shake as well. He hated himself for not knowing he was ticklish in the first place, but really, how could he know? No one had dared to do such thing to the Ghost King, but Xie Lian was Xie Lian and he could do whatever he wanted...

And Xie Lian was more than enjoying himself as he turned his playful lover into a mess; his eyes, beaming with excitement, looked down at Hua Cheng tenderly, his loud, unrestrained and continuous laughter (he didn't need to breath, after all), sending pleasant shivers down Xie Lian's spine. He wondered, though, if the ghosts in the Ghost City could hear their King laughing so freely and loud like this... They wouldn't dare to mention it if they did hear.

On top of that, Hua Cheng was trying to hide his face into the side of his arm and Xie Lian felt his heart flutter at the sweet sight. "San Lang... Are you flustered?"

"Your Highnehehehess!" Hua Cheng squeaked. "Dohohon't tease mehehe!"

Xie Lian laughed. "Why? San Lang always teases me, so I think-

Hua Cheng let out another loud laugh and, wanting to really hide from Xie Lian, he tried to roll on his stomach and he actually succeeded when Xie Lian lifted himself up a little bit, but as soon as he found himself with his face buried into a pillow, he knew this new position was worst since Xie Lian's fingers could easily dig into the dips of his hips, which were a very sensitive places.

"Yohohour Highnes! Have mehehehercy!" Hua Cheng pleaded, his legs kicking and his body twisting under Xie Lian as he tried not to pull his arms too harshly. "Plehehehase, stop!"

Xie Lian chuckled, "Why are you laughing so much, San Lang?"

Hua Cheng let out a groan between his laughter. "N-No, plehehehease! Don't say that!"

"This is actually my first time tickling someone. I'd like some feed back, San Lang." Xie Lian mercilessly used the same teasing words Hua Cheng used on him earlier and he enjoyed every reaction it evoked in the Ghost King.

"Gehehehege, I'm dying! Stohohohop!"

"How's that possible, San Lang?" Xie Lian asked with a faked surprised voice. "You are already dead!" Xie Lian couldn't stop laughing himself, it was fun to be on the upper hand every once in a while.

"San Lang will behave!" Hua Cheng said at once, trying to control his laughter. "I will n-nohohahahaha- I'll g-gihihive Gege a break!" He promised hurriedly, trying to look at Xie Lian through his teary eye.

Xie Lian hummed, a funny smile playing on his lips. "Really?"

"Yes! Yehehes, Gege! Plehehehase!"

Xie Lian chuckled, perhaps he tortured Hua Cheng long enough, so with a soft clearing of his throat, Ruoye came back to wrap around his arms. As soon as Hua Cheng felt his freedom, he reached down, gently grabbing Xie Lian's wrists, trying to push them away from his hips as he laughed tiredly.

Xie Lian stopped slowly until one of his hands was patting Hua Cheng's back softly, waiting for him to stop laughing and feeling a bit weird when Hua Cheng didn't breathe heavily once his laughter died down.

"Is San Lang alright?" Xie Lian asked just a bit worried, laying down beside Hua Cheng, who slowly turned on his back.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Xie Lian laughed and he let out a little squeal when Hua Cheng suddenly wrapped him between his arms, he tensed up, expecting another tickle attack, but Hua Cheng simply kissed his forehead and Xie Lian fixed Hua Cheng's eye patch once he relaxed. "Gege is really mean."

Xie Lian chuckled. "San Lang could easily throw me off, I had to keep him in place so I could take my revenge," he explained, the tip of his nose pressed against Hua Cheng's, their lips brushing with every of their words. "I kept looking back, in case E'Ming wanted to attack me."

Hua Cheng puffed. "That little shit would attack me first than Gege."

Xie Lian laughed, thinking that that was probably true.

They stayed like that for a while, staring into each other's eyes and giggling quietly at silly words and thoughts until Hua Cheng puckered his lower lip into a tiny pout, Xie Lian blushed softly. "Gege was really mean, though," he said. "I think San Lang will need a kiss so he can forgive His Highness."

Xie Lian giggled, his hands cupping Hua Cheng's perfect face. "Why, I think I also need a kiss to forgive San Lang."

Hua Cheng chuckled, bringing Xie Lian closer to him by the waist, "then let's do it at the same time, Gege~"

They kissed and kissed and kissed and giggled into each other's mouths until the moon was up and the last thing their sleepy eyes saw was their lips moving, wishing a good night, swearing their eternal love, and promising to see each other again the next morning.

[thepancakeboi]

113. “...Why? Why are you being...so nice to me? I can’t understand. I can’t understand! I just can’t understand...”

Divergence AU Part II

Previous | Next | AU list | Prompt source

Fanfic under cut

10/12

It’s been three days since that day in Mementos where I had confessed...almost everything. Okumura died last night just as I had warned Ren. The gruesomeness of the footage made me sick. It’s one thing to kill a Shadow that dissipates into smoke, but to watch as a man’s eyeballs roll back into his skull, black liquid pouring out of his eyes, his nose, and his mouth? It’s...disturbing, to say the least. Everything is going well, a little too well.

I find myself standing outside of the station square in Shibuya, waiting for a certain raven-haired phantom thief to make his appearance. He had sent a text this morning, saying he wanted to talk again. We both agreed in chat that meeting here would be more convenient, but we knew we wouldn’t be staying for long. I’m almost anxious, wondering what he wants to talk about this time. Or perhaps he’s called me here so that he can kill me in Mementos, leaving no trace of the crime? It’s a foolish thought, I know. Ren isn’t the murdering type...but what of the others? Haru will want revenge on her father’s killer, and I have no doubt the rest of the thieves will band together to-

“Have you been waiting long?”

Startled, I nearly jump at the voice next to me. “Oh, hello, Amamiya-k...I mean, Ren,” I reply as if he hadn’t surprised me, having to correct myself mid-sentence. He had told me to just call him by his first name, quite persistently, too. Saying his name aloud feels strangely intimate, yet it rolls so easily off my tongue. “I haven’t been here for too long.”

Ren looks like he’s trying to hold back a laugh as he asks, “Same spot?”

“Of course.” This time, I activate the Metanav, the two of us seamlessly entering Mementos. I’m in my black mask outfit this time. After all, there’s no need to hide my true self from him anymore. My voice sounds colder and harsher as I ask, “So, why did you want me to come here? It isn’t just to tell me that Okumura died, is it?”

Joker shakes his head. “No. I wanted to talk about our plan.”

“Our plan?” I repeat with a scoff. “Joker, you have no plan.”

“I can’t make a plan if I don’t know my target’s name.”

He makes a damn good point, but... “I can’t divulge that information yet. It’s not important. What’s important is that his guard-”

“His?”

Shit. Not even a minute in and I’m already slipping up. No wonder Joker figured me out solely on one mention of pancakes. I irritably continue, “My point is that he is extremely alert and on edge, sometimes to the point of paranoia. He knows you’re out there and that you’re a threat. He also has a Palace.”

“What are the keywords?”

He’s still trying to get information. Honestly, he should just give it up. “You don’t need to know that yet. You’re not infiltrating his Palace yet.”

“Why not?” Joker asks, acting like he’s insulted that I’m keeping this from him. “We’ve been through five Palaces before. This will be no different.”

“Did you not hear me earlier? His Palace is tougher than any you’ve ever faced, especially if you tried to take him down now. You would die.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

“We’re going to have to go through with my original plan. It wasn’t meant to catch him off-guard, but it should work so long as you have some trick up your sleeve.”

Joker chuckles. “Just tell me what I’ll need to do. I’d go through hell and back for you.”

“Good, because that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Wait. W-What?” he stammers, thinking he misheard me.

“You’re going to have to escape death.”

He stares at me; his expression is unreadable. “You...were going to kill me, weren’t you?”

“Yes, and I will if you don’t figure out a way to stop me.”

“And my friends?”

“I’ll leave that to your imagination.” The truth of the matter is that I hadn’t planned on killing them. Without Joker there to guide them, they wouldn’t have the strength to keep fighting. I could just tell him that, but I don’t.

“Tell me what your plan is. I’ll come up with something.”

“You’ll come up with something?” I burst into nearly maniacal laughter. “You won’t make it on your own. Aren’t you going to tell your precious teammates? Or have you already told them and they’re waiting to kill me?”

“What? No! I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Bullshit! I know how close you are to them.”

“I didn’t tell them. Not even about Okumura. I’m leaving that up to you.”

That catches me by surprise. Looking past my emotional outburst, I can see he’s telling the truth. He hasn’t spoken to them about this. “You...You what?”

“I’ll let you decide what you want to tell them.” After a moment of silence, he adds, “So, what’s your plan?”

Taking a deep breath, I begin to detail my plan. “Somehow, I’m going to find a way to approach the Phantom Thieves as a group outside of the Metaverse.”

“Somehow?”

“The opportunity hasn’t presented itself yet,” I admit, “but that point is trivial for you. I’ll present my evidence of your identities and offer you an ultimatum. I will offer to help you change Sae Niijima’s heart as a final heist. Do that, and I would erase my evidence against you and the investigation will cease.”

“And we would have to disband as Phantom Thieves.”

He catches on quickly. “Precisely. In order to best target Sae-san, the calling card will be sent on the 18th of November and the infiltration will happen on the 19th, before the investigation starts. However, you and your teammates will be ambushed by police and taken into custody.”

“No, they won’t. The Phantom Thieves will escape.”

“You hope to evade the entire police force converging on your location? You’re even more foolish than I thought.”

“They will. I’ll distract them so everyone else can get away.”

“Distract them...how exactly?”

“You’ll see.” So Joker’s going to keep me guessing. Either that or he doesn’t know either. It’s probably the latter, knowing him. He smirks as he walks up to me. “I’ve been told I can be quite distracting,” he adds as he passes me, his hand brushing for a split second against my thigh. The unexpected contact sends a jolt through me. It leaves me paralyzed yet strangely wanting more. Did he...do that on purpose? I shake my head, hoping to clear the feeling. What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t even turn around as Joker asks, “What happens after I’m arrested?”

“The interrogation will begin in a room deep underground.”

“And then you kill me? Sounds fun.”

I whirl around to face him. “How are you so calm about all this? You are going to die! And you have the nerve to think that’s fun!?”

“I won’t die.”

“You’re sure of that? Then tell me: how does Joker, the notorious leader of a group whose plans usually consist of ‘look for the treasure and beat up anything that gets in their way’, think he’s going to outsmart the black-masked murderer who’s hellbent on killing him?”

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

I throw my hands in the air, exasperated at how relaxed he is. He smiles as if he doesn’t have a single care in the world right now. “That’s very reassuring,” I snap, the sarcasm impossible to hide. “You’ll figure it out. Maybe I should just kill you now!”

“You won’t.”

“Don’t push your luck with me!” My body is on autopilot as I brandish my sword, the serrated blade pointed at his throat. “Don’t you see, Joker? You can’t even get yourself out of this alive!”

“You won’t kill me. I don’t think you can.”

Again with his complete nonchalance! “Do you really want to find out?” I hiss. “The only way you’ll leave this place alive is if you kill me first!”

Something seems to resonate with him with this. He spins out of the way, using my brief moment of confusion to ram the hilt of his dagger into my left hand. Instinct kicks in, forcing me to drop the sword from the pain. Joker kicks it away with a heeled boot as he tosses his own weapon away, securing both of my arms in his hold before I can even try and summon my Persona to take him down. He looks me right in the eye as he says, “No one is dying here today.”

“What are you doing!? Just kill me now!”

“No.”

“You won’t get another chance!”

“No.”

“You’ll end up dead! I’ll kill you and your precious friends!”

“I’m not killing you, Goro.”

He’s so adamant about it that it throws me off. He can’t be serious. Keeping me alive would be his worst mistake. And yet he refuses to kill me. “...Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you being...so nice to me?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I can’t understand.”

“I care about you.”

“I can’t understand!”

“You’re important to me.”

“I just can’t understand...” Important...? Someone like me...is important to him?

“You don’t need to understand yet,” Joker says before releasing me from what became an embrace, “but I’ll make sure you do one day. I promise.”

“What good is a promise you won’t be able to keep?”

“I won’t die. I’ll prove it to you.”

I don’t say anything to that. There’s nothing more for me to say. The rest of this plan is up to him. Can he succeed? I find myself unsure of his odds. Maybe...no. This is the only way we can proceed. It’s a long shot, and it’s very likely I’ll kill him, just like I said.

But if only he knew how desperate I am for him to prove me wrong.

[zikadraws]

What do you think hellen gravely was like when she was alive?

Well I'm not so sure... It may be weird, but when I think of her, I always get some heavy pity vibes... There she is, along with my headcanons scenario.

(*Click for quality*)

(Yeah I don't know for the others but I personally really like to see her as the Latina type)

Sooo...

I imagine Hellen Gravely to having been what people may usually call a 'gold digger'. Which is to mean, a woman seducing men for their wealth. Now, I don't believe it was exactly out of pure malice or anything. It's just that, she needed money, she was a foreigner and above all a woman (so say good luck to get hired as anything slightly moneymaker and healthy), she was persuaded she needed power to be taken seriously, and in the period of time she was (like the 1950's or so), and even before, who had the wealth and the power ? ...That's right : men.

So she used her charms at this usage. As she was gifted with a lot of charism and determination she managed to seduce number of variously wealthy men, and almost even managed to marry one of them, but failed each time to get in anything durable, men most of the time seeing her as a temporary commodity, and buying her jewels and stuff just to show off (which she knew and played on). She was getting sick of not being taken seriously and increasingly obsessed with reaching her dream of wealth and control, so she began fixating unhealthily on her 'targets', gathering every possible hint on what they might like and showing it, always aiming for higher, in her maladive quest to be 'someone'. This worsened her exigeant, controlling and impatient nature.

Thing is, she was counting a lot on her beauty, and was extremely weary of her appearance for that reason. So when age started to kick in, and she could no longer hide her imperfections, she simply could not take it. She couldn't think of doing something else, and was seeing younger 'gold diggers' successfully take on her old targets, and she just felt like she couldn't make it. No more.

And so, betrayed by her fading beauty, she decided to end her life quickly, instead of dying miserably and painfully in a ditch. (I know I'm sorry😓)

-

...Now that she's a ghost, she no longer has to worry with vital stuff. So she gained back all of her motivation. She used her charisma and business spirit to get her where she is today ; and she won't back up before anything -even literal murder- to finally get to her dreams of POWER. (By the way ; here's the thing : King Boo, as the only know king of ghosts, is like the best target she could dream of. Do the link, now~;) )

I don't know, that sounds like plausible to me. You do you~ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

---

Alright, thank you very much for 'listening' so far to my headcanons about her. It's not really clear, I know, but I guess that's always a thing ¯\_óvò_/¯

Sooo thank you for coming to my ted talk lol. Wish you a good night !🤗

See ya'~✨✨✨

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 15

death awaits!

oh god the cover. I aint ready 

the cover of overlords open mouth w/rodimus floating inside or w/e,,,,the overlord mouth fixation continues i see

and of COURSE its by nick roche. of course

oh god the tension and dread in the first page, as we get overlords sinister promise to murder everyone, starting with rewind, and then seeing chromedome rush over to open the door, and knowing that 30 minutes have passed already...

that full page spread of everyone vs overlord is amazing

also I always thought that ambulon was trying to kick overlord but now that I look closer he’s actually jumping away from overlord, having just crashed one of those hover...thingys....into him...which is honestly cool as hell. also I'm never over the fact that ambulon kinda looks like he’s smiling here, just having a grand ole time as overlord tries his best to murder everyone

and chromedome just seeing this and saying ‘rewind?’ is fucking killing me thanks

PIPES NO DONT DO THIS. YOURE JUST RUBBING SALT IN THE WOUND. PLEASE don't talk about how much fun you're having on your wacky space adventure oh god, that’s just asking to be murdered,

GOD AND THERE HE GOES, DRIVING TO HIS DOOM. PIPES NO

AUGHHHHHHHHHH AND THERES OVERLORD WITH HIS GIANT FOOT. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

PIIIIIPES ;_; 

his messed up goodbye thoughts are brutal...plus the final shot of him laying all busted up....god :( 

that guy seriously had some awful luck this trip. rip lil guy

BUT he sounded the alarm!!! so good for him!! that's a pretty amazing final act right there

oh my god I forgot abt this scene where rewind is like ‘so brainstorm why is my husband saying your name in his sleep :))))’ and brainstorm is like ‘haha idk its certainly not because we’re working on a secret project together, so jot that down!’ lmao brainstorm....

also dw rewind brainstorm is not fucking ur husband, just look at his evidentially extensive collection of perceptor-style microscopes...my man is microscopesexual 

I forgot abt the metabomb omfg

‘some of my favorite words are monosyllabic’ rodimus ily, himbo of my heart,

fort max :( rung :( 

oughhghghg I forgot abt the scene of tailgate making cyclonus a new horn ;_; and then cyclonus materializes menacingly bc tg dared to volunteer their room for movie night hvbfshdjkfbaskj cyclonus anti-social icon

AUGHHHH GOD THE PANEL OF RATCHET TALKING ON THE COMMS AND OVERLORD IS JUST, RIGHT BEHIND HIM, WITH HIS BIG STUPID LIPS, OH MY GOD

what the fuck, is drift a flying car??? hello??? what the hell????

seriously he’s got like, rockets and shit, what the fuck

anyways, the entire exchange b/w ratchet and drift here kills me, for multiple reasons.... ‘my faith and my sword’ lmao love it. and then ratchet refusing to leave drift and calling him his friend ;_; aughhh

rodimus w/the squad like ‘lets go gays!!!’ 

also I guess cosmos WAS on the lost light lol, totally didn't remember that, I'm guessing he left at some point to go be in the other series lmao 

I'm sorry but ‘amazing. you speak entirely in name’ is so fucking funny, but also like stfu overlord you're not allowed to be funny

MAGNUSSSSSSSS

now I'm confusing myself lmao, rodimus DID know abt overlord, didn't he??? wasn't that the whole thing???? I don't remember if he was involved w/the whole mnemosurgery plan but he at least knew that overlord was there...but we haven't been told that in-story yet so now I'm questioning that lmao

oh god I forgot that overlord almost kills magnus, jeeeeesus. good thing he’s a russian nesting doll otherwise he probably would've died fr 

also damn that's gotta be scary for everyone else, bc magnus is The Big Guy, and a renown fighter...plus drift got all fucked up...yall are in for a bad time 

tailgate gettin his panic on I see

swerve w/the meta narration lmao 

cyclonus ily sm.......

rodimus charging at overlord....ohhh my boy not your best idea

cd and rewind both saying ‘I thought you were dead!’ HHHHHHHH I'm destroyed fuck it all

rodimus (inadvertently) saving the day by saying ‘til all are one’...iconic!!

FORT MAX IS HEREEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

drift just casually chillin w/no legs

chromedome going into extreme detail about all the mnemosurgery he’s been doing on overlord for WEEKS while rewind is Right There....my dude.

this issue has a LOT of completely white backgrounds but I cant even rlly blame milne bc this seems like more drawing work than usual

oh god cd don't say ‘we’ll finish this conversation later’ at a time like this, that’s never a good idea,

rewind no don't do it :( :( :( 

that panel of cd’s arm getting cut off...AUGHHH

GODDDDDDD IM FUCKING CRYING. AUGHHHHHHHHHHH I.....

so incredibly fucked that cd does what’s best for rewind by blowing the pod up....hhhhh god 

and then that last panel of cd laying on the ground....fucking destroy me!!!!!!!!

also I love that at the beginning of the issue we see whirl with the missile launcher thing, and that’s what cd uses at the end here....good bookends. jro is really great about putting stuff in the story that just seems like innocuous filler/fun character building but turns out to ALSO be plot relevant later

HOLY SHIT I forgot about the cast page with the big red X’s thru the dead people’s profiles....jesus christ 

AUGH this issue was a rollercoaster, phew...and the emotionally devastating conclusion to this arc is still yet to come! 

I will say that it’s super interesting looking back on this, in the sense that rewind & chromedome are introduced as the first ever gay tf couple, and a few issues after we get told this explicitly, rewind is killed. this doesn't really end up being an issue representation-wise bc literally everyone is gay and there are a bunch of other significant gay characters/relationships later on, AND rewind comes back later 

but still! it’s interesting to think about how, at the time this came out, the phrase/concept ‘bury your gays’ wasn't really something that was talked about a lot (or like, it was, but not as often as nowadays, and not really under the term ‘bury your gays’ iirc), but at the time of publication this would have fallen under that trope (though rewind coming back later negates it imo). I think it would've been tough for this story to come out nowadays due to the backlash that would've occurred from rewind’s initial death (it also makes me wonder if there was any backlash when this DID come out) 

to be clear, this isn't a writing criticism - in fact, the reason this is able to work at all is because of the crazy amount of representation mtmte has. it’s like, youre able to kill off gay characters without it being ‘bury your gays’ if literally all your characters are gay by default, and there are a bunch of significant gay relationships happening - technically speaking, any death in mtmte is bury your gays lmao 

this is a completely disjointed rant but my point is like, if this issue came out in 2020 people would probably be pretty put off by rewind dying (understandably), but in the context of the series as a whole I don't consider this to be bad writing/bad representation/bury your gays 

and like, WERE people really mad about this in 2013? I am curious now, bc I would definitely feel kinda betrayed if I didn't know all the stuff that happens later 

but its pretty nice, because now I'm free to enjoy the writing and be emotionally devastated by rewinds death in a normal way, and not a ‘I'm angry at the writers for killing off one of the only gay characters’ kinda way

anyways I'm tired as hell so I'm going to bed, ill continue the emotional devastation later, phew

[tearinglight]

Bedtime Story for Squee

Squee pressed his face into Nny’s shirt, a rare action but today was an exception. He didn’t feel good today, his normal ‘squee’ of terror reduced to little more than a wheezy cough and his face felt funny. Nny shifted a little from the action, letting out a breath. He didn’t mind Squee touching him as much as he minded other people, feeling maybe just a bit stronger when the younger boy clutched his shirt. After all, little Squeegee was so small and weak right now! He needed Nny, didn’t he? Even though Nny was above that petty need of being needed, he could understand that.

The younger boy sneezed and it certainly did not take all of his willpower not to cuddle the precious Squee, no sir. 

Instead, he winced, trying to stay still even as germs ran up and down his body like frightened cattle. The weak grip on his shirt tightened a bit, however, his breath easing out of his lungs in a low-pitched hiss as his body relaxed. It was for Squeegee, he was a good Squee, he deserved to have someone take care of him even though Nny was suffering the whole time through it. The little boy shook with chills, Nny -begrudgingly!- tightening his arms around him.

“Nny?” 

“Yes, Squeegee?” Nny’s voice was soothing, bringing a small bit of comfort to the boy as he pressed his sore eyes to the Wastelock’s chest. 

“What’s it like to die?”

Nny paled with that question, his usual dusky complexion turning a light tan, “Why do you wanna know that Squeegee?”

“Pepito says you’ve died before... “ Squee pushed himself up onto his elbows to look his caretaker in the eye. “D-Do you think I’ll die? ‘Cause with my luck it’ll be malaria or somethin’ I’m sick with right now.”

“Squee that doesn’t mea-”

“Squee! What if I never get better?! What if I die here and rats eat my corpse and-” The younger boy was cut off by a round of hoarse coughs. 

His caretaker rubbed his back in instinct, wincing once more at the bones he could feel under his fingers. Squee was almost as thin as he was at that age, the older boy closing his sore eyes as memories-horrid ones- assaulted him. Squee’s coughs settled down, getting lighter, as did the air of the evening. Somehow, Nny thought about so much in his life. How everything could change as quick as the snap of someone’s fingers...

“Hey, Nny? Where are you from?” Squee rested his head against the older boy’s collarbone. “I hear you crying at night, sometimes. You say names. Where’s your family?”

Nny sighed, “Well, nowhere, really… just somewhere… “

----FLASHBACK------

The small child held some bread in his hands, the piece of food precious as he wandered the paved streets of Detroit’s abused and dirty alleyways. He jumped at a rat scurrying over his one sneaker, almost dropping his bread but rescuing the ball of wheat before it hit the ground. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have eaten it even if it HAD hit the ground, either, he was hungry and it wasn’t like more food was going to drop out of the sky. Smirking to himself, the boy held the treat up in the air like that monkey had done to that kitten on that old VHS movie that his foster siblings had watched. 

Careful not to catch the attention of the Lady, he’d done his scouting missions from the gaps between the railing, peering down onto the TV with stolen binoculars. He had never learned the Lady’s name or the names of the kids he was holed up with. It had never interested him, their cruel words scarring him until his eventual escape.

The boy gasped as he heard the roar of a fire truck fly past, running up the fire escape on his left to hide on the building’s roof. From here he could see the city, twilight falling over that little cliff where he’d seen couples go to do Naughty Things. Yet that was in the distance, this apartment building also showing him one of the single most important houses to him, ever. The house where he kicked up flowers, where he slept on the roof, where he had started to feel comfortable in a way that no other house had made him feel. He had never had a House before.

Of course, he had also never had a Lady Of The House before.

-----PRESENT----

The boy of the present choked on the air of the Now, his heart leaping into his throat as he suddenly slipped out about the Lady. He never talked about her, she was reserved in his memories for extremely bad days when his nose was runny and it was hard to focus. He examined Squee, the boy seemingly asleep in that exact state Nny had just said was worthy of Her. Maybe his subconscious just had no other way to make little Squee feel better?

Whatever. The boy was asleep now, so now Nny could finally esca-

“Who was she?”

Nny actually jumped at the sound of Squee’s voice. That was highly irregular. 

“O-oh. Squeegee! You’re awake,” Nny gave a sheepish smile, feeling a little guilty. “What? Who’s who?”

“The Lady of the House.” Squee mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep as his (sadly) parental figure wrapped his arms around him once more.

---FLASHBACK----

The boy’s violet eyes connected with her green ones in terror. She was only a shadow, dark and nowhere near as thin as the boy, as he looked up at her in the rain, muddy with parts of her flowers sticking to his hands. He had been coming onto the property for a while now, banging up her garden and sleeping in her little star-flower patch whenever he thought it was safe to breathe in the comforting scent. Those eyes should have been cold, the emerald orbs should have turned hard with anger but instead they crinkled up, becoming kind pools of jade. She kneeled in front of him, her movements quick and precise.

“Ah, so you are the little pisquano who has raided our gardens with their terrible temper tantrums!” The boy tried to force himself to run away, but her eyes held him captive. “So tell me, Little Noddleboy, what troubles you so that thou feel it necessary to destroy our gardens?!”

She was loud, her tone indicating punishment, but the hand offered brushed his chin with a gentleness he had never known before. For the first time in a while, he attempted to speak but all that came out was a tiny little “-y”. She suddenly broke out into fits of laughter, booming peals of the stuff.

“I see! Thou art a mute,” She reached her hand out to brush his messy hair. “Do not run, my gift, for I-”

That touch to his hair had been too much too soon, the boy running away as fast as he could. He could hear that welcoming, booming voice behind him but he didn’t look back. No matter how much he wanted to…

---PRESENT---

“-but I kept coming back, I think. I don’t really know why. I guess she just felt like,” Nny gave a non committal shrug. “Someone I could trust.”

Squee sighed, “I think this is the first time one of your stories had a nice ending. You met someone nice your first time in the neighborhood even if you were scared of them…”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nny subconsciously pet Squee’s hair, his eyes dulling as he tried to slip into one of his thinking moods. “Didn’t really help you, though, did it? I kinda wasted your time.”

“Not really… you kinda just told me that you were just like… me… “ Nny froze up at that, Squee crawling higher so he rested more comfortably under Nny’s chin, the boy slightly high off of cough syrup. “You had her ‘n’ I have...you…”

Nny’s eyes stung a little, suddenly not him but now looking through the Lady’s eyes at his tiny self. A helpless, vulnerable version of himself that he couldn’t help but touch on the chin with a gentleness he had never thought himself of possessing before. Before he knew it, Nny’s eyes had slipped closed, resting their sore gaze for at least a little… while… dreaming of dying and going to a perfect heaven with the Lady and Squee, right over the stars.

[justrednow]

A little Winter Fever

warnings: Severe illness, financial insecurity, hospitals, death, minimal editing, swearing, extreme cold,                                                                                      my crappy OCs

word count: 2393

Characters: Smalls. (OC’s->) literally everyone else except Roger I guess

Description: The Bronx newsies are hit hard by winter. Not only can they barely make enough to eat, they find temperatures are rising but not outside.    (Sorry for anyone who needs to scroll, I don’t know how to make read more)       _____________________________________________________________

Smalls stared at her bag still filled with 20 papers. She looked up to the street, snow danced in the lights from the lamps. It felt like her cheeks were being cut from the blizzard winds. She dropped the 21st paper back into the bag and shoved her ungloved hands into her pockets. The wind grabbed her skin through the thin shirt she had on. It was too early in the day to call it quits on selling, but her feet were numb. Her boots were wrecked, they were new too. she could feel the water seeping into them. She moved into the stoop of a store, to get out of the wind.

She jumped as a man pushed on the door behind her. Smalls quickly moved out of the way as he walked past her. “Care to buy a paper, sir?” She asked desperately.  To her delight, the man turned to look at her, almost studied her bright red cheeks. To her dismay, he huffed and scurried out into the winter winds. “Maybe next time,” she whispered to herself.

The day dragged on like that. Hiding and begging for people to buy from her. She didn’t break even on the day like she had hoped. Not even close. She pressed 3 coins in her pocket and trudged back home. She was shivering, her lips were blue and chapped.

Finally arriving at The Bronx lodge, she shook the snow from her hair, tossing the sack of papers to the side.  The slightly warmer air welcomed her with the hushed chatter coming from the other room. Smalls glanced at the attendant, lowered her head and kept walking. She owed money for her stay, 14 cents that she didn’t have. She spent it on food for the younger ones. Probably the only reason they hadn’t kicked her onto the streets yet. She traveled into the rec room as it was called. Young newsies ran, oblivious to the winter cold.

Spaniel looked up from her reading, a newspaper that hadn’t been sold. “Someone’s home late.” Her low voice chirped, alerting BlueJay.

Smalls shrugged it off, “it was a rough day.” Spaniel returned her dark eyes to the page. “As you already know, I’m sure.”

“Sure,” the girl murmured. “Didn’t see you at circulation this morning, how much did you take?”

“Only 25,” Smalls plopped herself down next to BlueJay who was sewing away at a loose button. “You?” She nudged him, having expected him to make more of a fuss about her.

“15, I’m not foolish,” he didn’t even look up from his work. “Spaniel didn’t leave today.”

“I did too!” Smalls heard the sound of a paper crinkling as she focused on the frost on the window glass. “But,” the girl stood up as a little newsie tripped over her outstretched leg, “I knew I wouldn’t sell nothing.” the little one, Frog, started coughing. “Carajo! Cover, child!” She stepped away, pulling her shawl closer to her. Frog shrugged and continued playing with the others. “What kept you really? Damn Brooklyn kid’s not dumb enough to walk up here, is he?”

“Someone’s nosy,” Jay chuckled, “it's not like she’s the last one back.”

“She might well be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Smalls sat up a bit more than she had been. “Everyone else is still out there, they’re coming back.”

“No one told you what the paper was?” Spaniel frowned. Smalls hadn’t thought to ask,  the week had been so quiet and slow. “Scarlet Fever, all over Manhattan. They go down there, they’re good as gone.”

“No one is dumb enough to go to Manhattan in this weather,” Smalls assured her friend. “If they are...”

Jay nervously pulled at his sleeves. He had made it to Queens, to see his grandmother. Crazy old lady. “Only Manhattan?” He asked. He prayed it wouldn’t reach here. They’d all be dead.

“Right now, yeah. Hospitals are packed, you can’t see a doctor.”

“Speaking of,” Smalls interrupted, “Doc isn’t back. He’s typically here before you.” She shifted uneasily. She never liked talking about illness, it reminded her of...

Spaniel shook her head, curly black hair bouncing unaffected by the winter. “He’s upstairs, resting.”

“Tom?” Smalls frowned.

“He was here, now he’s not.”

Smalls opened her mouth to list off another name but Jay cut her off. “They’re fine, don’t let hyperbole get you upset.” He had already convinced himself not to be worried about this. “Besides someone having a little fever isn’t going to prevent them from coming back to the lodge.” he rested a hand on her shoulder for comfort. “Hypothermia will.”

“Why.” Smalls turned slowly, “why would you say that?”

“He’s an ass,” Roger walked into the room, stomping snow off of his boots and throwing himself down into a chair. “He’s right though, heard they found a kid from Harlem stuck in the snow. Said his skin was ice.” Roger took a breath as he brushed the water drops from his hair. “Wasn’t dead though. Don’t know how long before he did kick it.”

“Again,” Spaniel sighed and closed the door of the room, “ain’t no one dumb enough to stand out in that cold for that long.”

There was a moment of silence around the group. They were dumb enough, if not dumb they were desperate enough. Each thought about how many times they had refused to go back no matter how damn cold they were. The inside of their mouth could have been covered in ice from yelling and nothing would have changed.

More importantly, Roger’s mind wandered to Knot. The kid was 14 and refused to follow him back to the lodge. Roger had given up and left him alone in the cold. That was the wrong call. It took a week to find him, froze to death in an alley next to an apartment building. Roger took the blame, every time it came up. Not that it came up often. But it was hard for him not to when he thought about everything he could have done differently. It was hard not to think about it when the little ones set out on their own and Roger imagined finding their little bodies curled up around a coat they stole.

“Roger,” Smalls repeated for the third time. This time he came too. “Jay’s going to run and get food, want anything?”

Roger wiped under his eyes. They burned but no tears had fallen. “Yeah, whatever they have. I’ll pay you back,” he promised.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jay was already heading out before Roger could protest the idea. Roger glanced at the clock, he became aware of its ticking.  “it’s already 6?”

Spaniel looked up at the clock and shrugged. “Guess so.” She began to pick up clutter around the room, shooing the little newsies off to wash up. She tossed the paper into the fireplace, taking a moment to watch it smoke and crumple. After the few books in the whole building had been put back into their basket Spaniel found her way back to her chair.

“I’m gonna go find Tom,” Roger excused himself as the conversation was over.

Smalls chuffed in amusement, “looking for a fight?”

“You know it,” he sighed before ducking out of the room. Smalls watched him go before she began to pull off her boots. Her socks were still wet. She made a noise. She pulled them off and laid them over the fire.  Her bare feet were still cold but the carpet felt good, almost soft.

“What are we going to do with him,” Spaniel sighed with a smile as she traced her nail across the frosted window.

“Tom?” Smalls raised an eyebrow as she glanced out into the entrance of the building, “or Roger?”

“Both will get themselves killed,” Spaniel chuckled.

_____________________________

Within the next 2 weeks, seven were sick. Five were little ones: Frog, Jani, Louis, Hop, and Slingshot. The other two were Spaniel and Roger. They were all kept in the sick room. The healthy children started calling it the death room, Smalls almost hit them. Yet they weren’t wrong. They had nothing to reduce fevers, all used up. The only medicine for the illness was in hospitals. No adult was rushing to pay that bill. No newsie had the money.

Instead, they went about their lives. It was never of their minds, though. Who was next to become ill, who would die first? What could be done?

Smalls got back earlier and earlier, she couldn’t stand to be away.  She sat in a little wooden chair by the door, listening to the coughing and children crying. She wanted it to be her, just to save one of them.

Jay returned for her when he could. But his own problems arose in Queens. He brought her a chunk of bread from his Grandmothers. “What did she say?” Smalls disregarded the offering.

“She doesn’t like Orphans, Smalls,” Jay let out a long sigh. “Especially street kids.”

Smalls stood up, she was ready to snap. “You’re a street orphan! But we all know that if it was you in that room you’d have a doctor living in the same room as you!” she shouted. “It isn’t fair! She can help them, you know she can!”

“I know...” Jay didn’t need a reminder of anything. “What do you expect me to do that I haven’t already done.” His grandmother was as stubborn as she was rich.  “We’d have better luck begging at the doors of a hospital.” Smalls turned to him. “Which we are not going to do because it’s probably a crime in some way.”

“What other option do we have, watch them die?” Smalls spoke again. He turned away. “They are dying, Jay! You can’t ignore that, it’s not going to go away.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to be saying to you right now,” Jay shook his head and pushed the door with his foot, looking into the dark room. Spaniel caught his eye right away. Her usually rosy brown skin was now all rose. She was sweating and shivering. but she managed a smile and a wave to them before throwing herself into a fit of coughing. “Alright, let’s go.”

Smalls pulled the door shut and they headed out. She felt the tear in her boot become soaked with water, but it didn’t matter. She followed close behind Jay as the wind whistled in her ears. Around halfway there she began to think about what would happen if this didn’t work. What were they asking of these doctors? These doctors with other patients who are paying and more important that grungy street orphans. Smalls hugged herself tight as she thought about the five in the room, she coughed instead of crying. Jay spun around.

“I’m fine, we’re almost there, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and slowed down so that they would be walking side by side.

Before long they were there, walking in and moving around the rush. Smalls stared, she didn’t realize how many people there could be. She averted her eyes when she saw a mother holding a newborn with an awful rash. She then turned to an older man and his wife, both nervous looking. Jay pulled her by the arm to the front administration desk.

“We need to talk to a doctor!” Jay demanded.

The lady at the front desk nodded, “yes, I could have assumed that. Are you visiting a patient or admitting?”

Smalls looked to Jay desperately. The answer was neither. They didn’t have a plan, they didn’t bother to make one. “Visiting our younger sister, we are very worried about her.” The lady looked between the two of them, they didn’t look alike. “Last name?”

Jay paled a bit but continued to speak. “Smith.”

She pulled out a book and shuffled some papers. “First name?”

“Mine?” Jay stammered, “or hers?”

“The name of the patient, and if needed the disease they have.” Smalls flinched as she listened, around her people were chattering and coughing and sneezing. It was loud and she was scared.

“Elizabeth, scarlet fever,” Jay answered. 1 out of 100 lies is true. Smalls nodded along. “May we see her doctor please?”

“‘Fraid that’s the only person you can talk to...” The lady tapped on the desk. “She died this morning.” Smalls chocked and Jay bit down on his lip. he imagined the newsies, dead. “Wait down the hall, the doctor will be with you.”

Smalls, in her turn, grabbed Jay by his coat sleeve and lead him down the hall. “Dead.” She echoed.

__________________________

“Alright, I‘m confused...” Dr. Ellsen stared at the two. “You lied to come and talk to a doctor about curing a disease?”

“We just need the medicine, we can take it from there,” Smalls explained. The doctor rubbed his face laughing in dark ironic humor. Smalls looked at Jay who had leaned forward to see what the laughter was about.

The doctor stood up and looked at the pair. “You don’t get it, do you?” He sighed, “there is no cure for Scarlet Fever. If there was do you think half of our wards would be full of crying toddlers right now?” The two said nothing. “You’re brave to come here, but there is nothing to be done.” Jay opened his mouth to say something. “Free advice, you best take it. Keep that door shut and locked. They’ll be dead soon enough. Especially considering how weak you two look, can’t imagine it’ll take long.”

“Your pessimism is much appreciated,” Jay retaliated.

“Try being an optimist after telling a new mother her baby died,” he ushered them to the door. “I’m sorry. No need to waste the money you have here.”

____________________________

By the time they got back to the lodge, they found out that two more had been brought into the sick room. Spaniel somehow looked worse. Smalls entered the room, despite her better judgment. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed that Hop was laying in. The child had curled around the thin knit blanket he had been given. Smalls brushed a hand over his sweating forehead. She realized how still he was and gave his cold body a nudge.

Panic swelled inside her as she jumped to her feet, shaking him harder. She looked for any sign of life. “Hop!” she shouted at him, alerting the others in the room. “Hop?” Her voice grew more and more desperate for the six-year-old to wake up. But he stayed in his endless sleep. Within the week half of those in the room would join him. 

There is no cure.

[freebooter4ever]

A continuation of the amazing Pirate Snafu AU for @persipneiwrites, this is like an explosion of my love for pirates and snafu and I couldnt contain it so pls take it, get it out of my head. read persipnei's original first cause basically gene just told snaf he was dying of scurvy to trick him into taking gene, who snaf had saved from a shipwreck, home. And now snaf has to decide to return to Mobile or continue on his quest.

In the light of impending mental uncertainty, Snafu does what he always does...retreat to the peace and quiet of his Captain's quarters to surround himself with all his favorite maps. There isn't a surface in the tiny cramped space not covered in maps. Large, detailed maps, with scribbly corrections done in Snafu's own writing. A lot of times the cartographers are going off theoretical knowledge when they chart the coastlines. Snafu, on the other hand, has the worldly experience necessary to fix them. He hasn't exactly gone everywhere yet, but he's gotten pretty close.

He shuffles through the papers with a little more force than is probably warranted to dig out an old handheld mirror. It's cracked, and weather beaten, but it'll do the trick. Baring his teeth in front of the glass he sticks a finger under his lip and pokes around. Nothing hurts exactly, but there is a tightness to his chest that makes him nervous. One tooth he pokes actually wiggles a little, and that makes him even more nervous.

He shoves open the cabin door and yells, "Burgie!"

His first mate appears almost instantly.

"Find his majesty. Send him to my cabin," Snafu says.

Burgie agrees, looking extremely tired.

Snafu shuts himself back in, sits on his bed (which takes up almost as much space as the maps) and continues turning the mirror this way and that, trying to get a better angle. He very nearly can see the backside of his teeth by the time Sledge finally quietly lets himself into the room.

"What do you want?" Sledge asks, sullen.

Snafu smirks. He knows Sledge still considers himself apart from the crew. The boy doesn't like it when Snafu tries to order him about.

Snafu gestures to the space in front of him, "You said your father's a doctor. I want a thorough examination."

"You're joking," Sledge deadpans.

Snafu kicks a velvet covered stool in Sledge's direction and leans back on his hands, waiting patiently.

Sledge sighs miserably and straddles the stool. He scoots forward until his knees knock against Snafu's. Snafu holds completely still, barely breathing, until Sledge gently takes hold of Snafu's jaw and guides his mouth open. Snafu would almost describe Sledge's touch as delicate, if he were the type to use such vocabulary.

"Your breath stinks," Sledge complains and completely ruins the mood Snafu is trying to build.

"Yeah?" Snafu grins.

Sledge rolls his eyes and focuses on the task at hand.

Sledge's hands are so soft, and clean. Too damn clean to be anywhere near Snafu's mouth. But Sledge examines Snaf's teeth and gums anyway, and has him move his tongue around to inspect every bit. It all seems very procedural and official. And by the end of it Snafu's left front teeth hurt like hell, right down to the bone.

So he isn't surprised by Sledge's eventual diagnosis.

Snafu makes the announcement right before dinner. He wears his biggest hat. Straps his sword to his belt for show. Usually he does without weaponry whole on the boat. He trusts his crew enough. They're like family. Better than, even.

His crew watches him, trustingly, as he tells them they'll be turning around. That the big score he's been planning for over six months will have to wait. It means longer hours with less food. And no recreational time at port.

As Snafu makes his speech, he eyes Eugene Sledge, who stands off in a corner, arms crossed, face set in stone. Snafu wonders if Sledge is aware just how costly his request actually is.

Snafu trusts his crew with his life. But in under four months the communal treasury will be gone, and if he hasn't replenished it by then, he will be gone too. They wouldn't kill him. But they'd leave him in the nearest port and take his ship, in which case he might as well be dead.

"We're going to Mobile, to see this Governor-Doctor," Snafu concludes, looking straight at Sledge while he does, "And if it turns out we don't got scurvy, we'll take his majesty's ransom" he pantomimes a salute to Sledge, "...and kill him."

The crew jeers. None of them like Sledge.

Snafu's eyes trail down Sledge's lean neck, watching intently as the man swallows. Snafu expected Sledge to be smug, triumphant. Instead all Snafu sees is fear.

Fear is not the look Snafu wants from Eugene Sledge, but it's the one he is used to.

Snafu returns to his quarters and locks the door.

He only reappears hours later, on the edge of twilight. The sun is no longer relentless, and the sea is calm for once. These evening hours have become his time to hold court. Wherever he ends up perching on the ship, his men will find him and air any grievances. It's a daily reminder that his Captaincy is communal rather than appointed. Even if he is the one with a formal claim to the ship.

He goes through three pirates with money troubles, two women having a domestic disagreement, and one man who had something to say about the cat - before Burgie finally slides in next to him. It's nearly dark, and this nook under the bow they're squatting in makes the shadows pitch black. It's similar to the opening of the tiny storage space Snafu first hid in as a kid. Not a lot of unused space on a ship. But a skinny half starved child can fit in almost any cranny with the right motivation. He had been caught halfway through the voyage, and forced to swab decks for the rest of the journey.

"You don't have it," Burgie says without preamble.

Snafu cuts his eyes towards his first mate with suspicion.

"Haven't you wondered why our crew has had zero cases since I came on board?" Burgie asks.

"Just thought we were lucky, I guess," Snafu drawls and takes a smoke.

"Last crew I sailed with, the Captain decided to do an experiment. After he went to Asia, he learned that lemons were said to be able to prevent scurvy on long voyages. So, he gave the crew of his command ship three spoonfuls of lemon juice every day while the rest of the ships in his fleet did without. The men on the other ships started dropping like flies. Most of them didn't make it. I had to transfer to another ship just to help bring her in to port. It was cruel, the conditions that bastard put us in. To use us as test cases. It was mere luck I ended up on the command ship. Switched with a friend. He held out till the final week before he succumbed," Burgie says, ''I jumped ship after that. Couldn't stay watching that kind of treatment and not be able to do anything about it."

"You say your last Captain made it to Asia?" Snafu asks.

That's where Snafu wants to go. The Pacific Ocean.

Burgie sighs, "Snaf, I ordered the cook to give everyone daily lemon rations for a reason. You don't have scurvy, and if you keep taking my elixir you never will. Eugene lied."

"Eugene Sledge," Snafu extends the name as long as it can go, testing his limits. He grins down at the water below him. "Pretty little rich boy with hair like copper. Do you think he's ginger down there too?"

Burgie scoffs and stands to leave, "If you're taking him home because you want to fuck him, fine. But don't pretend like you're doing this for the health of the crew."

"Everyone knows scurvy is a luck game," Snafu taunts, still grinning.

"If you'd rather trust luck than me, you better be careful before yours runs out," Burgie warns kindly. He turns his back on his Captain.

"Burgie?" Snafu stops him just before he goes.

Burgie turns, questioning.

"Don't tell nobody," Snafu says. His face grows somber and he looks his first mate dead in the eye, "I don't want to have to kill him."

Burgie looks sad. But he nods.

A couple nights later Snafu finds Sledge, after he's had some time to think.

"The sailors cut my hammock again," Sledge complains the minute Snafu sits down next to him.

Snafu doesn't answer. 

Sledge brought his troubles with the crew mostly on himself. He made no effort to learn anything about sailing, or to pitch in and lighten the duties of the sailors he's demanding work from as they take him home. He didn't even know enough about knots to tell when a rope has been cut or merely untied.

No one cuts rope on a ship unless it's an emergency.

Instead of saying all that, Snafu lights his rolled tobacco, and passes it to Sledge. 

Sledge characteristically refuses the smoke.

They sit in silence that's almost companionable for an entire watch. Some of the crew pass by, as if wanting to talk to their Captain, but no one bothers them. Eventually they're given a wide berth and left completely alone.

Snafu seizes his chance. He sucks in his bottom lip. Then releases it. "Liars never prosper," he says.

Sledge sits up very straight. "You're a pirate," the boy says, "thought all your old breed did was lie?"

"Naw," a smile drifts across Snafu's face despite himself, "Gotta stick to the code. No lying."

Eugene immediately gets defensive, "All I want is to go home. I'm not asking for anything else."

Snafu casts his eyes to the sky. He is sick of hearing the same line over and over. "You are," he says, exasperated, "Going home. So don't be dumb and tell the crew I don't have scurvy."

"Wasn't planning on it," Eugene snaps.

"Good," Snafu says, equally harsh.

"Glad we've come to an understanding then," Eugene quips.

It takes every good samaritan bone buried deep in Snafu's body to not shove Sledge off the ship's rail and into the water then and there.

Or maybe it's just that Snafu wants one certain good samaritan buried deep in him that he's being so unusually lenient. He's not thinking very straight at the moment.

"The offer to sleep in my quarters still stands," Snafu says calmly in a final answer to Sledge's first problem, "Bed's big enough for two."

Sledge laughs caustically.

"I won't try anything," Snafu says defensively. He finally looks Eugene in the eye to convey that he's being genuine. "I promise." Snafu's last two words are only slightly sarcastic which in his mind is a great sacrifice.

But Eugene is staring at him balefully with those big sullen eyes of his, and Snafu aches. It is unfair to want so much when the other person doesn't.

"How old are you?" Eugene asks, still glaring, and turning the non sequitur tables over on Snafu.

Snafu looks at him. Tries to take the man's soul out through his eyes and divine his motivations. Then Snaf laughs, as if it worked. "I stowed away on my first ship at twelve," he says, "Led my first mutiny at seventeen. That was a year ago. I guess that makes me eighteen."

"Jesus christ, you're younger than me," Sledge says all in one breath like a revelation.

"No one on this boat is more green than you, Sledge," Snafu points out.

The man in question ignores this comment. Instead he focuses on Snaf's age. "You don't look it. Eighteen, I mean."

Snafu arches his back with a bit of pride, "Probably because I'm the meanest asshole this side of the atlantic."

"You're not mean, you're just defensive," Sledge counters, "That's different than being malicious."

"All the men I sent down to Davy Jones' locker would probably argue otherwise," Snafu taunts. A smile is growing on his face and he doesn't know what to do about it.

"Yeah. Okay," Sledge teases, "You're a mean tough pirate, I know."

Snafu is really laughing now. He can't seem to stop. It comes in bursts, like the waves far below his feet. Like all the joy he's had stuffed inside him burst free for this one moment of absurdity. One moment when a pampered, second son dandy sees straight through Snafu's artifice and is entertained by it.

Somehow, in the midst of Snafu's fit, Eugene starts laughing too. So they chuckle together as the sun sets, co-conspirators in lies they both started. And when Snafu turns his face away from the glare and happens to glance at Eugene, there's a smile on Eugene's face. And something in his eyes that terrifies Snafu. But the kind of terror that feels a little like hope.

"Why aren't you going to send me down to Davy Jones along with the rest?" Eugene asks.

Snafu slides off the rail and back onto the deck. He stands a few feet away, clinging to a rope for support, to admire Eugene's profile lit by the remaining sunlight. "You're too pretty to die, Sledge," Snafu winks.

 He returns to his quarters alone.

 He leaves his door unlocked.

Sometime in the night, Eugene must have snuck inside.

Because it's only when Snafu wakes with the sun and rolls over to discover a tuft of red hair on the pillow next to him that the pirate captain realizes it might be worse to have Eugene Sledge so near and off limits than to not have him in his bed at all.

Eugene Sledge sleeps peacefully. Exactly how Snafu might have imagined a Governor's son would. And deep inside, somewhere near that good samaritan bone of his, Snafu wants to preserve that innocence.

It's why he's taking the man home.

[rykhafirehand]

Phoenix

A cold, harsh wind blew through the keep’s shattered windows. Rykha paced in silence, kicking the dust and filth around. “Bird shit. Really?” she finally growled. “You went through all that trouble, you ruined so many lives, ruined my life, and all you have to show for it is bird shit?”

There was no reply. The Orc grunted and continued to pace, ranting as she did. “And before you, the Bretons, Mauloch bugger the lot of them. And the Imperials. I guess it’s by sheer luck the bloody Redguards didn’t decide they wanted some fun too.” She snarled. “About now is where you’d want to give some glib, extremely clever remark, I’m sure. But maybe, just maybe, I’m tired of it all. Tired of everyone calling us ‘pig children’. Tired of having to scrape and beg and play the good servant before those fops over in Wayrest or Daggerfall will take any of us seriously.”

She snorted, holding back a bitter laugh. “The Covenant? That’s a good joke. All those high and mighty lords and ladies, playing their games, stabbing each other in the back without so much as a by-your-leave, all the while taking good Wrothgar steel and good Wrothgar soldiers and tossing them in the grinder. But hey, at least this time we’re dying for them, not against them, right?” She spat and stomped heavily on the spittle. “But no, clearly that’s not enough. Clearly it wasn’t enough that our clan suffered for refusing to bow to the Bretons. You had to come in and kick us while we were down. I bet it was your idea to poison the chieftain. Thought yourself really clever, I bet. I bet you did! Damned Reachmen!”

She stopped, realising she had been shouting. When next she spoke, her voice was low, menacing. “You know, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore, so I might as well give you the whole story, huh? Bet you’d like that. A little fireside story of how the pig children got slaughtered, won’t that be nice? How Winter came and—” She breathed in deeply. “Well then. Once upon a time, there was a chieftain of a small Orsimer clan, living in the shadow of Wrothgar. His people’s lives were never what one might call opulent, but they managed. Until the call came, the call for the Orsimer nation to unite and return to the mountains, for now, ah-hah! Now the Orcs had a king.”

She spat once more. “And such a king he was! Breaking bread with other kings as an equal, yes. Except of course, one of them was more equal than any of the others, one of them was the High King. And the High King demanded, as rulers so often do, a show of fealty. Orsimer flesh to toss at the front lines of a delusional war. What was the brave king of Orsinium to do? I’ll tell you what he did. He downed an ale, and downed another, and signed the papers that condemned entire clans to extinction.” Rykha stopped pacing and folded her arms across her chest. “But here’s what’s important; there were those who never heeded the call. And especially in those early days, it was a very dangerous decision for those living too close to Breton lands. And so, the bright soldiers came, and they slew and looted, and it hurt all the worse when behind the visor you saw the dark, sad, knowing eyes of some lad from the mountains. You know what those eyes said?” She kneeled and peered thoughtfully at her audience. “Thank Malacath it’s not me. That’s what they thought. Thus, they sold their flesh and they sold their dignity, all for the promise that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be them.”

“And then Winter came.”

“The clan had lost its herds, and its greatest warriors. A wasting sickness came among them, borne of black wings, and the chieftain was hit the hardest. His wives watched him wither away before their very eyes. Once, he had been a match for any warrior, but disease doesn’t know bravery from cowardice, it claims all the same. And it did, eventually. That same day the Reachmen came pouring from the mountain passes. Five chieftains died to their axes and arrows within that week, until none would claim the title anymore. Thus fell Clan Gard, withering just as its chieftain had, until only three remained.”

She rose and began pacing once more, though slower this time. “Three, where once there had been many. A girl, an old wife, and a whelp. With no choice left to them, they braved the mountain, hoping against hope to reach the walls of Orsinium before hunger and the cold did them in.” Rykha’s nostrils flared. “But something awakened in the girl. Half-mad from starvation, she heard a voice on the wind, and followed it. The others thought she had abandoned them, and the old wife cursed her name. But then… the girl returned. Tempered. Determined. She claimed the mantle of chieftain, there and then, and led them to a shelter she had found, carved into the living rock.”

She closed her eyes and stood motionless for a while. When next she spoke, her voice seemed strangely distant. “There, the chieftain spoke to her God, and made an oath. There, she gave a chieftain’s offering. And then only two remained.” Rykha grunted and bared her teeth. “In return she received gifts. Fuelled by the unending fury of Malacath she carried the child to safety, to make a new life in a strange clan. Such was her demand in the bargain. The clan took the child out of fear and respect, for the lone chieftain now bore the mark of the God of the Spurned.”

She brushed away a strand of hair, revealing a set of small horns poking through the skin of her forehead. “There were other gifts, of course. Now unburdened by the trappings of her former life, she became the Firehand. That too had been given by Mauloch, to set ablaze the enemies of his beloved children. Such devastation! And of course, the pact was sealed in a proper Orsimer way; with a weapon.”

Rykha unsheathed a curved, jagged greatsword. Its edge had a strange, evil gleam to it, not quite belonging to any metal known to Nirn. “Crafted in the Ashen Forge, infused with the hearts of seven Daedra, and blessed with a drop of Malacath’s own blood. A symbol of the oath. A reminder of pain and loss. And eventually, vengeance.” She let it clang loudly on the floor as she reached for her hammer instead. “You were never worthy of it,” she growled at the severed hagraven head.

When she was done, nothing remained but shattered cobblestones and a damp patch where the head had been. Rykha paid it no mind. She ran her hand over the carved statue, the pride of her family, her clan. The Wolfen Seat. The throne of chieftains of Clan Gard since time immemorial.

In the gloom, her eyes appeared almost black.

In the gloom, her tears remained unseen.

[rosedavid]

andi bonds with tj over motorbikes and she then helps him get together with cyrus

This is so long overdue! I’m so sorry!

Send me prompts 

Outside, the air is hotand dry. Heat wafts across the landscape, causing a visible ripple effect. Inthe driver’s seat, Andi squints as she makes her way along the dirt road, handsclutching at the steering wheel. Beside her, Buffy is resting her feet on topof the dash, basking in the cool air blowing from the vents. Meanwhile, in theback, Cyrus is spread out horizontally, one arm hanging over the edge of theseats as he presses cheek into the cool leather.  

“Are we almost there?”Cyrus groans. “We’ve been driving for forever!”

“It’s only been likethirty minutes,” Buffy reminds him.

“Exactly!”

Andi rolls her eyes ather friends’ bickering. “Don’t worry, Cyrus, we’ll be there soon.”

“You said that 30 minutesago!”

Earlier that afternoon,Andi excitedly texted the group chat about a surprise she had for them. Cyrus,of course, expected something predictable such as lunch at the Spoon or a dayat the museum; however, Andi obviously had another idea in mind. She assuredthem it would be fun, but Cyrus had yet to experience it.

“Trust me, it will beworth it,” Andi assures him with a smirk.

True to Andi’s word, theyarrive only a few minutes later. She parks her truck close to a prodigiousboulder. When they all hop out, everyone immediately feels the intense, overwhelmingheat. The sun sits at its peak in the sky as it scorches the earth. Cyrusstarts uselessly fanning himself.

“This is worse than thecar! I’m dying from the heat,” Cyrus whines. “Is this the surprise? Sufferingin the middle of the desert during the hottest part of summer?”

“No! Of course not,” Andisighs, walking to the bed of her truck. Buffy and Cyrus share a confused glancebefore following behind her.

They watch as Andi opensthe back of the truck and unlatches her tarp in the back. Cyrus peers overcuriously, watching as she pulls the tarp off with a flourish. It’s revealed tobe Andi’s bike and gear, which Cyrus honestly almost forgot about. Despite thebig reveal, he’s still confused as to what exactly they were doing, as Andiknew that Cyrus would never get on that deathtrap, and Buffy wasn’t interestedin bike riding either.

“So, I’ve been practicingriding a lot more recently,” Andi begins, “and I came across this group here intown that also does motocross for fun! I decided to join, and now, once everyother week, we get together and practice! Sometimes, they even do races, andthis is my first one I’m participating in so I thought you both could comewatch!”

Cyrus is immediatelyrelieved that he doesn’t have to ride Andi’s bike. After all, the only type ofbike he can handle is foot pedals.

Buffy smiles, “That’sgreat! I’m glad you found another hobby. We’d love to see you race.”

“Of course,” Cyrusagrees, “Anything to support you, even if it feels like I’m slowly melting outhere. So, where is everyone else?”

Andi heaves her bike andgear out of her truck, then motions for them to follow her. They walk behindthe group of boulders where numerous other cars are parked and a bunch of peoplesit on their bikes, all decked out in helmets and gear. A few others sitagainst the largest boulder, hiding out in the shade to watch the action.

“Hey, Mack! Took you longenough. You ready to lose?” A male voice taunts from beneath a helmet.

“As if,” She grins as shegets ready to go. First, though, she turns back to Cyrus and Buffy. “You twocan go sit with the others and cheer me on.”

Cyrus eagerly hurries tothe slight amount of shade provided by the rock, Buffy following. He feelsextremely out of place as he looks around at all the bikers. After all, Buffyis at least a sporty person, but Cyrus doesn’t have an athletic bone in hisbody. He’s thankful that Buffy at least is there to keep him company.

As more bikes start,Cyrus continues to flinch at the loud noises, trying his best not to cover his ears.He watches as Andi lines her bike up to the other four bikers. She looks smallcompared to all the others, but Cyrus knows better than anyone to neverunderestimate Andi Mack.

Someone raises a flaghigh into the air before quickly bringing it down, officially starting therace. Cyrus watches with rapt attention as Andi and the others kick off andstart biking around the homemade racetrack. They soon enter the first turn, kickingup dust with their tires. For a few seconds, Cyrus can’t see anything, and heworries that Andi may have crashed. Then, he sees her fly out of the dust inthe front of the pack, neck in neck with the biker she was talking to earlier.

Cheers fly out of the crowd,despite it only being a few people, and Cyrus can’t help but join in to cheeron his friend. Buffy rolls her eyes at him but soon finds herself caught up inthe moment as well. The race is so intense that it makes Cyrus’s heart poundand hands shake. The intensity of the heat doesn’t help, either. His eyes stingfrom the dryness and dirt being kicked up. Still, he finds himself having morefun than he thought he would.

“She’s so good!” Cyruspractically shouts over the noise of the bikes.

Buffy nods, “I know,right?!”

Although the other bikersare putting up a valiant effort, Andi and the other boy are clearly the starsof the race. The boy edges closer to Andi, barely taking over the lead as theygo around another corner. Cyrus can’t even imagine being out there. He’d be waytoo overwhelmed. In fact, he’s overwhelmed just watching them.

“Go Andi!” He shouts intandem with Buffy.

The bikers approach thefinal corner. The boy still has the lead over Andi. As they head into the turn,though, Andi maneuvers her bike tightly around the corner right beside him, soclose that Cyrus thinks they might crash into each other. Thankfully neither ofthem crash, and Andi straightens back out only to have a substantial lead. It’sthe final straightaway, and she urges her bike faster. The boy is close behindher, but not close enough. Andi finishes first. Cyrus and Buffy cheer and clap wildlyfor her.

She rides up to them andparks her bike before removing her helmet, a wide smiling gracing her face.They all high five each other and laugh together at Andi’s helmet hair.

“I can’t believe you hidthis from us for so long,” Buffy mentions, “You were amazing out there!”

Andi’s face is red, bothfrom the heat and the compliment. “Thanks, but I’m really not that good. And I’m sorry I hid it from you both, I was justnervous.”

“You are that good.” Cyrus replies, “And it’s okay, we’re just glad wegot to cheer you in your first race!”

They pull each other intoa group hug, ignoring for a moment how hot and sweaty they all are. The soundof another bike breaks them apart. It’s Andi’s main competitor who rides up tothem. She smiles when she sees him, smacking his shoulder lightly as he getsoff his bike.

“Told you I’d win,” Shelaughs.

He groans, “Yeah, yeah, beginner’sluck. I’ll beat you next time, for sure Mack.”

The boy reaches to takeoff his helmet, and Cyrus gasps quietly when he does. The boy underneath thehelmet is undeniably gorgeous. Much like Andi, his hair sticks up everywhere.It’s blonde and soft looking and Cyrus just wants to run his hands through it. Hisgrin is infectious, and it makes Cyrus’s knees feel weak and throat close. Theboy’s green eyes shine in the sunlight, and Cyrus can just barely make out afew freckles dotting his nose.

“Aren’t you going tointroduce me?” he says with a smirk, breaking the moment of silence. Cyruswants to melt into his shoes.

Andi rolls her eyes. “Thisis TJ. He’s kind of okay when he’s not being a jerk. TJ, this is Buffy and Cyrus.”

Cyrus notices her lingeringon his name, but quickly moves on as he and TJ make eye contact. He tries notto do anything too embarrassing under TJ’s gaze. He ends up tapping his fingersagainst his thigh and biting his lip nervously. TJ smiles at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” Hesays, gaze still focused mainly on Cyrus. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Another voice calls out somethingthat Cyrus doesn’t really hear, and he sees Andi wave a hand before dragging aconfused Buffy with her down to the other biker. Cyrus immediately feelsawkward, lacing his hands together and dragging his eyes down to his feet.

“So, Cyrus,” TJ begins, “Everridden a bike before?”

“I’ve ridden a bicycle numeroustimes, but I can hardly handle that let alone one of these bikes,” He rambles,unable to stop himself from spewing out words.

“I’m sure you could do it.”

Cyrus blushes, shakinghis head. “No way. I don’t have an athletic bone in my body! I almost failed P.E.”

TJ giggles, and it makesCyrus swoon. He risks a glance up at the biker, who is smiling fondly at him. “You’readorable.”

Cyrus tries to form acoherent sentence in response. “I—you, what?”

“Do you want to hang outsometime?”

“You’d want to hang outwith me?” Cyrus asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because I’m me and you’re…you,”He trails off, motioning between the two of them. “I’m not interesting. I don’tlike normal stuff that boys should enjoy like sports. Instead I like dinosaursand musicals and screenwriting.”

TJ steps closer. “Hey,you don’t have to be interested in sports. I think that stuff all sounds cool.”

Cyrus finds himselfinching forward slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” TJ breathes out quietly.Then, he pulls a phone out of his pocket and hands it to Cyrus, who staresblankly for bit. No one has ever really wanted Cyrus’s number let alone askedfor it so directly. His fingers fumble over the letters as he types in his nameand number before gently handing it back. As he does this, his fingers justbarely brush TJ’s own, sending shivers throughout Cyrus’s body.

TJ types out a quickmessage on his phone, smiling as Cyrus’s own phone goes off. Cyrus opens histexts.

(***)-***-****: It’s TJ (:(: (:

Cyrus sputters at theexcess amount of smiley faces. He looks up at TJ with a smile before texting back,feeling a sudden boost of confidence

Cyrus: Three smileyfaces? You sure know how to make a guy feel special.

TJ bursts out laughing. “Ihave to go, but text me later?”

Too flustered to speak,he nods.

He likes motocross a lot more than he thought he would. 

[eurekq]

so here they are.... my revamped darlings. naohiko, rika, amane, and maya are new! im going to put all their bios under the cut, they’re mostly copypasted from the old ref though except for the new kids :P i really like naohiko, he’s basically an amalgamation of every percussionist i’ve ever known lmfao

basic premise: 16 fresh-out-of-highschool prodigies are invited to star in well-respected and widely-watched big brother-esque reality tv show, which takes place on a cruise ship. what they weren't expecting was for the show's 25th season to be a killing game! the students: CHOUMI YUKIYAMA: exceptional among even her fellow shsls, choumi made her historic mark on ballet by becoming the world's youngest ever prima ballerina at the age of 13 and japan's first ever prima ballerina assoluta at 18. fans flock to her ethereal, angelic grace on stage as well as to the percieved sense of otherworldlyness surrounding her albinism. on the darker side of her popularity, repeated sexual harassment from fans and male dance partners alike has hardened her world view to make her not quite cold, but definitely reserved in her emotions. she adapts fairly easy to stressful situations and pushes through pain with almost no visible outward struggle due to her all too common experience with dancing through foot and ankle injuries. because of this she usually ends up taking initiative in difficult scenarios if no one else steps forward. she is also a quite talented hobbyist figure skater and is fluent in both english and russian. REN KIKUHARA: a fairly odd florist in that instead of ordering flowers to arrange into bouquets, every flower he sells is grown himself. although this means that his selection is seasonally and fairly regionally limited, he has an incredible talent for working with plants and can even sometimes coax out-of-zone flowers to grow. he's fluent in hanakotoba and is surprisingly good at flirting through flowers without it seeming cheesy, although he doesn't do it very often. people often remark that his bouquets often seem to have more love and life in them than store-bought ones. ren is a calm and kind soul and prefers listening to talking, with what he does say always seeming to be just the right words for the situation. MARIKO MIKAMI: mariko was a sickly child, and spent a large part of her elementary school years in hospitals. around the age of seven, she began folding paper cranes as something to do, and wished to live normally after she folded her 1000th. she soon recovered, and feels that she owes her life to origami. she is precise and calculating in everything she does, which shines through in her art: every delicate, artful piece of origami that she makes is creased and folded perfectly. she also dabbles in wet-fold origami. she's most famous for her dry-fold though, and her pieces are well known for their complex, precise, mathematical beauty. she refuses to fold paper cranes anymore, feeling that they are too sacred for her to touch after they saved her life as a child. a calm, slightly disconcerting smile is always on her face, no matter the circumstance; her manner is polite for the most part, if i a little aggressive. MOMOTAROU KOBARA: momotarou, born into a rich family that fufilled his near-every want, made a name for himself in the world of collecting at the age of just eleven by, through luck and love for the series, collecting every pokemon card. from then on he set onto collecting just about anything non-perishable: pins, collectors set bandaids, vinyls, etc. he has exceptional luck in finding deals on ebay and other sites. he cant really be called a hoarder, since he likes to have just one of everything; he resells, gifts, or uses any duplicates. his mood swings between a dreamy, chilled out, flirtatious persona and periods of numb depression when it hits him that his whole life revolves around material possesions and that he has no real human connections. SARA KUROKAWA: a talented young woman from a long line of popular backalley tattoo artists. she combines traditional symbolism and youthful influence in her designs to make something new and more appealing for the younger generation, and is a huge proponent for tattoos being shown off for fashion rather than hidden away in the traditional style. sara does have (illegal) tattoos done by her older siblings on her arms despite the minimum age being 20, although her being homeschooled, looking older than her actual age, and having a tendency to wear long sleeves year round has led her to encounter few problems. she and her family are among the many who simply choose to ignore the statute requiring a medical license to tattoo. sara is a fairly rude person in a backhanded way, acts stereotypically catty and even a little deranged sometimes, and enjoys making herself the center of attention, whether through her appearance (dyed pink hair and white contacts) or the things she says. the only two things that can break her shell and make her excited and genuine are tattooing and piano, which she has played from a young age and loves. NAOHIKO KINZUMI: the son of a concert pianist and a professional jazz drummer, naohiko shortcutted the usual pots-and-pans percussion stage most children go through and spent most of his childhood hitting actual drums. blessed with perfect pitch and a natural feel for rhythm, his parents enrolled him in private music lessons at age five, and he joined onto his first indoor percussion ensemble at age 13. a fast learner, naohiko can play most all percussion instruments at a professional level, including both tuned and auxiliary. he is especially known for his drumset skill, specifically being able to match the speed and complexity of most double kick pedal rhythms with just one foot, and his delicate grace at bowed vibraphone. naohiko is loud, brash, and fun, with an infectious smile and sense of humor that draws people in. despite the flashiness of his drumset playing, his favourite instruments are actually the weird obscure ones, like the waterphone, mahler hammer, and "bucket of loud objects to be dumped on the floor". HARUMI HAMANAKA: harumi is a sweet and bubbly girl, if almost cloyingly so. her good luck is a fairly stable force (nowhere near as chaotic as komaeda, for example), generally acting in the favor of wishes of people around her. her mother intensly wanted for her to be on the show because of the exposure it provides, and this is what harumi attributes to her being selected. despite the way her luck operates, shes no doormat and in fact has an overwhelming force of personality, and her sweet demeanor can become rather passive aggressive if challenged on pretty much anything. SHOU KATSUKI (PROTAG): pushed to succeed in the game from a very young age, shou is japan's reigning chess champion, a FIDE-certified grandmaster, and went to international competition the year before the killing game. he played through to the finals with influenza, which worsened through the matches due to lack of treatment and culminated in debilitating pneumonia that left him in the hospital and unable to play for first. because of this, he's cultivated a sort of inferiority complex that he tries to cover for with self-confidence, which actually comes off as condescending rudeness. he has a natural talent for cause and effect analyzation and is good at planning ahead. he gets flustered easily over trivial things and is a sore loser, but tends not to crack under actual pressure. shou doesn't like to be associated with his family due to the intense pressure they put him under only to steal his winnings the second he began to succeed and thus prefers to be referred to by his given name, even by near-strangers. he does genuinely love chess, but his favourite board game is actually risk. (no one ever wants to play with him, though.) RIKA FUJIMIYA: originally scouted as a young child for her unique eyes and birthmarks, rika's first minor film role at the age of nine left the director stunned at her acting capability. as someone who grew up with a very murky self image and a difficulty interpreting social situations, rika lived most of her early life essentially "acting" the way she believed others would respond well to, which resulted in her easily adapting to doing the same for the cameras. she went on to have a very prolific child acting career without really settling into a niche. As a teenager she took her first steps into stage acting, playing juliet capulet at 16 in a moving and extremely impressive performance, and later at 18 performing a striking and memorable female hamlet. her deep and rich voice has also landed her several voice acting roles. her personality offstage has solidified a lot more since her younger years, although she doesn't go out of her way to talk to anyone, fan or otherwise. when approached, she is polite, gentle, and humble, although she has trouble separating her image as a celebrity from that of her as a person and thus it is extremely difficult to get to know her. KENJI MINAMOTO: an eccentric and a bit airheaded olympic fencer whose strange insistence on not wearing protective gear during practice (he believes it makes him better by giving him a stronger motivation to not get hit) has earned him many a scar over the years, and has left at least half of his joints in braces at any given time. he follows his own bushido-esque moral code (the details of which he will not tell anyone), although he will not put himself above whapping the occasional really annoying person in the ankles. his épée is his best friend and he carries it most everywhere. most of the scars on his face and hands are actually from trying to put in his very sharp industrial piercings while drunk. despite his oddities, his light-footed and elegant ambidextrous fencing has been compared by many to a graceful dance, and although in many respects he comes across as dumb, on the court his mind is laser-focused and unbelievably quick and analytic. AMANE BECKE: a more lowkey type of talented than her fellow contestants, amane hasn't won any major competitions, been on tv, set any records, or anything of that sort. she does, however, run what is widely considered the best bakery in japan. based out of nagano and the daughter of a swiss pastry chef, amane has a natural talent for baking nurtured through over a decade of dedication and love for the craft. she excels at interesting flavor combinations, but her true genius is in her classic, feel-good baked goods. many say that the things she bakes just taste like home and warmth. amane is as warm and sweet as her creations, but with a spark of wit and mad-scientist-y genius that make her an entertaining joy to watch work, if a little overbearing to talk to. EISUKE ITOU: eisuke grew up sewing clothes for his younger sisters barbie dolls, and he particularly loved dressmaking. he gained exposure in his first year of highschool by handmaking gorgeous outfits for his class's booth at the school festival, and, through application to various junior fashion competitions, he was eventually noticed by a big-name designer in paris. however, he found learning french next to impossible and has spent the year prior to the game in relative isolation, unable to have any real human conversation. his psychological state was fairly severely impacted by his long hours spent sewing and designing on internship with no company to get him by, and he is now debilitatingly socially anxious and finds conversation difficult and awkward. MAYA HANABAYASHI: maya spent her early teens with only a passing interest in survival-based media, having enjoyed hunger games and similar media, but not to the point of obsession. however, when traveling on a plane with her father back from visiting family in las vegas, she found herself in a similar situation when their plane went down in a heavily forested area of california, leaving a seventeen year old maya as the only survivor. with only a swiss army knife and a lipstick-shaped stun gun gifted to her by her father to feel safer during their stay in vegas, she survived alone in the woods hatchet-style for six months until late fall, when the fallen leaves made her campfire coincidentally visible to a very observant park ranger on firewatch. after being rescued and returned home to japan, maya found it extremely difficult to readjust to normal life. her thick and warm camo jacket, more a fashion statement when she was wearing it originally, was lifesaver to her during the cold spring, and she she can't bring herself to separate from it even with multiple rips and burns in the fabric. she has refused multiple book deals due to still being heavily traumatized, but after a long period of deliberation decided to go on the show as a way of finally moving forward and acknowledging it. maya isn't exactly socially anxious, but rather closed off and disconnected. JUN TENSEI: born jun harada, many believe that his spiritual connection is the real deal, but a few critics hold that he is most likely just an incredibly talented bluffer. the real truth about him is unknown, but many say that his seances do accurately reflect the personalities of their deceased loved ones and help them feel at peace. he is deeply religious, but not to any one traditional faith (although he does use traditional christian symbols such as crucifixes and items such as holy water on occasion). he believes strongly in the power of the soul and its ability to exist beyond death. his voice is soft and almost hypnotic, and he has a penchant for gentle teasing and riddles. he comes off as pretty shady to most, but he's fairly harmless. TOMOKO KAITA: a peppy and outgoing astrology guru who can read your deepest flaws and strengths with just your date and time of birth. known worldwide for her extremely accurate personal horoscopes. despite this, she strongly believes in the ability of an individual to defy their fate through hard work and self improvement. she dislikes giving negative horoscopes, and does her best to focus on the positives that the stars hold in store. her smile brightens the whole room! she is intensely loyal to her friends, to the point of self-sacrificing emotional labor. YUU IROIKE: yuu iroike isn't even his real name, and it's a mystery as to how show staff even tracked down his mailing address to get him on the show. he's a well-known public figure for painting huge, sprawling, colorful murals in tokyo, yet who he really is remains unknown. he paints faster than his murals can be scrubbed away, and has somehow never been prosecuted for vandalism because his graffiti is generally considered an improvment. he's sly, mysterious, and teasing in person, and gets a bit of an itchy trigger finger when he hasn't painted in a while. His skill with spray paint is so great that it seems as if the paint bends to his very will.

[porchwood]

Hey friends,

I’ve been struggling to come up with a sufficient thank-you for all your help with the GoFundMe, but it seems every time I sit down to try to write a response, some new awful thing arises. And this past week was the worst yet (maybe the worst ever).

When last I spoke to you, I was getting over a bad cold and preparing to ease back into work after my injury. The PT office finally called me back and I went in for one session to make sure I was at a recovery point where it was okay for me to do massage again; the therapist did a quick assessment - no exercises demonstrated or recommended - kinesiotaped the knee and charged $100 that I had to pay then and there. (So a waste, and an expensive one, but I guess it could have been worse?) The next day I started back at work VERY part-time (one 60-90 min client a day) and it absolutely killed me. I was no longer wearing the brace and my knee actually did okay with the work (bending/crouching notwithstanding), but the rest of my body (esp core muscles) were just drop-kicked by the work. I went home exhausted and shaky every day and finally tried substantially increasing my protein intake, which felt a little ridiculous (we’re talking a 24g shake + an 11g bar for breakfast or two entrees at lunchtime), but it’s done a world of good, and that’s all thanks to you guys. (Protein of any kind isn’t cheap and your incredible donations made it possible for me to buy good food to rebuild my muscles.)

The end of my first week back at work, I fell hard on the ice outside my house. Miraculously, my left knee never even hit the ground, but I fell flat on my back and my left wrist - without any lasting injury, thankfully, but I was absolutely worthless for the next 24 hours and had several days (crucial returning-to-massage days) of varying degrees of pain in that wrist. In the meantime, I made a couple of other adjustments (raising my massage table to take the strain off my lower body, getting back on an ibuprofen schedule instead of just taking it after the fact, when I was hurting badly), all of which helped, but I’m still only about 85% back. My knee still hurts every morning when I wake up and gets stiff and sore whenever I have it bent for any length of time. My workplace has been surprisingly good about letting me work a slower schedule as I build back up (ex. 3 clients a day instead of 5), and last Friday I finally got a paycheck for the first time in over a month (!). 

Then, two weeks ago, I was wakened at 3am to Lucky (my little rat terrier) falling off the bed. This has happened before and is usually comical after the fact, but when I picked her up, she emptied her bladder all over me, and when I tried to set her down to check on her, her back legs had gone limp and wouldn’t support her. Terrified (I’ve heard enough end-of-life dog stories to know this isn’t good), I was about to take her to the emergency vet when she sat up like nothing had happened and began licking herself. I took her outside and she walked around a bit, completely sound on her feet, and pottied again - business as usual. Worried and mystified, I messaged my (LPN) mother who thought the urination sounded like a shock reaction to the fall, so I gave Lucky a bath and spent most of the day just cuddling with her.

For about two seconds, life seemed like it might finally be getting a little better. I was able to pick up two massages at a local inn (which pay substantially better than massages at the spa and provide some very helpful extra money). And then on Thursday, I came home to a slightly anxious Lucky (howling quietly on my bed), and when she got up to greet me, her back legs wouldn’t support her. I scooped her up immediately and her entire body went limp (seemingly lifeless), her head and neck lolling over my arm. As I ran through the house with her, her bladder emptied down the front of me and - still lifelessly limp - she gave the most horrifying howl I’ve ever heard. I was convinced she was dying in my arms.

As we tore down the road to the vet’s (thankfully, about a 5-minute drive from home), she sat up on my lap and by the time we’d reached the office, she was acting downright normal again. I was able to get us in with one of the vets about 10 mins later (a tech checked her out right away to triage her and make sure she was stable), and he wanted to get some data on her heart. She’s had a heart murmur for almost her entire life and, while I’ve asked repeatedly what we could do for that, the only advice I was ever given was hawthorn and ginkgo supplements (which she takes on a more or less daily basis), and at one point we tried a canine cardiac formula for a few months with no notable changes.

She had an EKG, chest x-rays, and a blood draw ($516, including the office call) and then that info was sent to a veterinary cardiologist in Portland. All they could tell me in the meantime was that her heart is enlarged and to just have her take it easy for the rest of the day; they would call me first thing the next morning with the cardiologist’s report. Lucky was sleepy but normal for the rest of the day and I passed an awful night of bad dreams (including one about rabid dogs) and waking every hour or so to make sure she was okay.

I was scheduled for my typical split on Friday but had only one client at the end of the day and was an emotional wreck, so I asked if I could just go home to be with Lucks and I found another therapist to cover my client. I still hadn’t heard from the vet by 10am, so I called to check in. He gave me a brief summary over the phone and asked if we could come in for some more tests, which was another hour and a half and $236. (I was able to put these two visits on my CareCredit card but for some reason the vet only gives a 6 month promotional period instead of the 12-18 months that other places do. If you’re not familiar, CareCredit is a great option IF you can pay off everything quickly. If you can’t, you’re clobbered with obscene interest on the entire sum at the end of the promotional period, even if you’ve paid off almost all of the principal.)

I’m still making sense of the cardiologist’s report because it’s quite in-depth and my knowledge of the heart isn’t quite that high, but here’s what I’ve been able to glean:

- “severely enlarged” heart - borderline tachycardia and occasional arrhythmia (her collapse was considered a syncopal episode, if that helps anyone) - some degree of mitral valve issue - at risk of developing congestive heart failure

She was put on two heart meds, pimobendan/Vetmedin (which is supposed to be very effective and is also very expensive) and enalapril (an ACE-inhibitor), and she has a kidney check-up in about a week to make sure she’s doing well on them and adjust the doses if necessary. The vet seemed to think the prognosis was pretty good (considering that at this point we’re talking about staving off heart failure :/) - he said small dogs with mitral valve issues tend to do well on these meds - and other than this insanity with her heart, Lucky seems to be in pretty good shape. Before Thursday she was extremely active and happy; there’s no sign of neurological issues, and her BP, thyroid, kidneys, etc are all looking good. So I’m trying to stay hopeful.

She’s been a little extra sleepy (understandably) the past few days, but this afternoon she seemed unusually “off,” so I’m trying to figure out whether it’s her tiny body adjusting to the meds (which she needs to stay on for the rest of her life) or if her heart is suddenly starting to get tired and this is the new normal. :( I called my mother earlier (a mistake) and got a lot of pessimism-in-the-guise-of-sympathy that left me feeling like Lucky is on hospice and I should start making end-of-life arrangements now. 

I’ve been crying for the better part of the last four days, and I don’t think I can articulate how painful this is for me. I didn’t think it was possible to donate a human heart to a canine but I looked it up just in case, because I would give her mine without hesitation. Lucky is my whole life - my soul running around in a little black-and-white body, and five years ago when my life systematically fell apart, she was the only thing misfortune didn’t touch - and I knew this, and I was waiting. Since then she developed sleeping bladder leaks (which, while frightening, were easily and effectively treated with estrogen), then severe separation anxiety (which I’ve been struggling to treat since 2016, and yes, I blame myself for the anxiety making her heart worse, even though I’ve done absolutely everything to help her overcome it). Lucky is absolutely the reason I didn’t try to end my life at various junctures over the past five years, and I don’t want to think about what will happen to me if she’s not here anymore.

And as ridiculous as this will sound: I was supposed to be married by now. When I got Lucks as a puppy, I knew the inevitable would one day come (unless Jesus comes back before then so Lucky and I can just go to heaven together, which I haven’t given up on), but I knew my life would be much different by then. I would have a home and a husband to help shoulder the financial and emotional burden. I was not supposed to be alone, sterile, and struggling just to make ends meet. I love my roommate dearly, but it’s not the same as having a spouse, nor should it be. She can give me hugs and listen to me cry, but at the end of the day it’s me in that dr’s office, holding my hurting baby and promising to pay for whatever they have to do, and me that has to hold everything together and keep going when the worst happens. 

Incidentally, last Sunday was my birthday. I’ve mentioned before that my birthday has some kind of perverse curse, and if this year didn’t prove it, I don’t know what will.

My father (living in Nebraska, and with whom I’ve had a strained relationship since my hysterectomy) has congestive heart failure, and my mother called me shortly before all of the Lucky stuff to tell me that he’s failing and to try to talk me into moving back to Nebraska to help keep an eye on him. Which is a subject for another time entirely, but over the past few days I’ve been wondering if I should think about going back (temporarily), if only to be around family myself. It would be a complicated situation (I’d still be on the Maine lease and paying for half of everything, Lord knows if I’d be able to keep my Maine job when I came back and I’d end up back at Massage Envy in Nebraska, not to mention I’d be scrambling to pay down my medical bills and Lucky’s), but maybe it’s something I should consider.

Anyway: that’s where I’ve been. :( And I’m sure I look like an ingrate for not saying thank you about the funds sooner, but between the fatigue and the heartbreak, it’s been hard to manage much of anything lately.