#and every time i think i'm finally on the right track my boss is like 'hey did you do this' and i didn't

[ilkkawhat]

Hope you don't mind me asking, do you have more gifs or pics of Ilkka fang? I remember you posted it not long ago and I also got obsessed with his fang 😭

immediately the street where i live comes to mind but i can make it my mission tonight to make a dedicated gifset of them

[patricia-taxxon]

cw: venting about some drama that happened on twitter that many of you were likely not present for, and my very personal solipsistic emotional reaction to it that many of you will find annoying.

So every once in a while, people (normies) rediscover this furry musician called Pent Up Pup, who is a fan of me i think, so I need to be nice. To describe them with complete neutrality, they make music that is completely filled with memes and signifiers of furry kink erotica to the point of parody, and they invite a huge amount of derision like you'd expect. This particular drama storm was triggered by their new song, and it aroused a lot of negative emotions in me, which i'll go through from least to most self-centered.

So firstly, through being so audacious, Pent Up Pup has managed to become the default furry musician through which all discourse flows, normies treat them like the final boss. Everyone needed to have a take, but even more people saw this as an opportunity to bring them down in favor of someone else. Some poor furry rapper called $LEAZY EZ got caught in the crossfire, and her snippet that she uploaded got met with "see? finally some GOOD furry music, this is way better than the one other furry musician I know." And like, yea I'd absolutely produce and mix an entire mixtape for her at no charge, but she had a right to be upset that her big viral break was in service of a bunch of leeches one-upping another creator in the space she was trying to integrate with.

But worse, the main response to her snippet was just... "Oh, finally, furry music that isn't white boy EDM." And like, Pent Up Pup isn't white and imo is way more aligned with alt-rock/britpop, they're just imagining a minority that agrees with them. But also, the more self centered part of me just wants to ask "what about me?" Like imo I'm one of the best in the world at the specific thing I do, and it's not white boy EDM.

And furthermore, in response, every furry musician on twitter has been eager to defend their friend and say that trash talking Pup and uplifting someone else doesn't work when everyone in the scene knows each other. "Don't you know? We're a tight knit community!" And to this I feel a combination of petulant annoyance and RSD, because I have been trying to be a part of that scene and failing for a long time now. Like, I tried integrating into the community when I was first gearing my music in that direction & tried sending my music to the failed beta version of Aural Aliance, and Rinny turned down my track (it was the then unreleased beast / creature) because it had autotune in it. They apologized later (thankfully) and offered me a spot, but like, half of their lineup and also the people organizing the events have me blocked over callout stuff, so I just ghosted them. I've mostly been watching this huge unfair drama storm unfold, making me feel talked over, but then I also have to watch this community that ostracized me band together and show their unyielding comradery while everyone just sidesteps past me in the conversation. I warned you that this would be self centered.

[liketheinferno2]

These aren't full ref sheets but I was trying to take some clear pictures of Hephaistos for later art reasons and then got side tracked doing all of the Pandaemonium bosses so here they are in order. Also for anyone following who doesn't play FFXIV and knows it as the catgirl game, enjoy this instead? VISUAL SPOILERS obviously.

Asphodelos

Warder of the Condemned: Erichthonios

Mythic Creation: The Hippokampos

Mythic Creation: The Phoinix

(+ familiars)

Hemitheos: Hesperos

(+ sexy fanfic redesign by Nemjiji)

To be brutally honest I never really liked either of these designs compared to every other Hemitheos we get, I think the really brutal black and red of the Phoinix is weakened by gold accents, but I still am always down for gay vampire surf rock. The Savage version kind of looks like Ultimalius as well if you've played XVI.

Abyssos

Mythic Creation: Proto-Carbuncle

Hrgrhhgrhrgrh

Hemitheos: Hegemone

^ My favourite detail on this is you can see the parasite's outlines in her robes and in her legs, then right through the eye holes on the mask to wrap around the torso. I'm convinced this version of Hegemone is functionally an ant being piloted by a cordyceps infection.

Hemitheos: Agdistis

She's very big

Perfect Imperfection: Hephaistos

I'm probably biased by Abyssos being the first raid I was there for day of release but these really are all fantastic. It's also when the story abandons all pretense of not being (at least partly) about family abuse and is loudly using the body horror and shackle motifs to talk about that. It's great. Hephaistos specifically is constantly bulging and twisting in and out of different forms like a highly unstable chimera and the more I look at these the more I notice parts that just should not be there. He's giving everything.

As for the Savage design It's a hard thing to rate as such but my favourite part is the veins that grow down from the eyeholes in his mask like bloody tears.

Thanks Abyssos I love you

Anabaseios

Mythic Creation: Kokytos

Dæmoniac Dungeon: Pandæmonium

It's really hard to communicate how huge this nasty tumor crab I zoomed out as far as physically possible in the game engine and subsequently ended up at a goofy angle staring up his nose.

Ephemeral Justice: Themis

Best boy. The double ended lance and second pair of arms are fantastic for this character.

Theos: Athena

In.. almost every final fantasy adventure you're fighting the real villain not at the very end but a little beforehand, the big iconic end boss is often more a metaphorical figure representing everything wrong with that first person's ideals. Athena cut out the middle man and became her own JENOVA.

I do like the moth angel, especially the hollow body full of dubious orbs, but with her eyes closed all the time it gives off the impression of this not even being the true body but some kind of anglerfish lure in the shape of a fairy... which might be true because this exists:

I really really love her twitchy anemone feelers and how the moth body ends up grafted to the rest of it waist down.

Anyway there's the gang I did not specifically intend for this to be design reviews I just wanted to have clear photos because when you actually see them in game there's other things to focus on. In hindsight I can appreciate more the theming of each tier and then the series as a whole, but my only (extremely obvious) observation for now is that every character Athena had a personal hold over is decorated in chains somehow and so I should have seen the Hegemone thing coming lmao. Heph and Aggy are still my favourites I don't think that's changing any time soon. I'm also noticing that Anabaseios is now just old enough for random DF parties to fuck up severely and I find that fun so I'm going to go fight the crab mansion now.

[dollfaceksj]

I'm gonna cry if he's mean to her 😭 she would definitely deserve it, I just wouldn't like it though

:)

a/n: early cal update bc i won’t be able to post this weekend. 🫶🏽

can’t afford love | myg (m) #22

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

WHAT DO YOU DO?

“I don’t want to be alone.” — 91,4%

GO HOME ALONE — 8,6%

382 votes

you chose:

“I don’t want to be alone.”

↓

“i don’t want to be alone.”

you say it without even glancing at him

scared of

rejection? disbelief? annoyance?

and in your peripherals you see yoongi typing away on his phone

doesn’t even glance your way

immersed in his phone

you awkwardly scratch at the back of your head

wondering why he’s straight up ignoring you

well

girl…

clearly you’ve forgotten about what the hell he confronted you with before leaving for the hospital

he has every right to just not be in the mood to even deal with you

so what if you don’t want to be alone?

he definitely didn’t want to be slapped in the face with that revelation from earlier but you still did it

“yoongi?” you say, quietly, hoping to grab his attention

but he simply keeps typing

doesn’t glance your way

you swallow your pride and reach for the door handle, opening up the car door

the sound of his belt unbuckling and snapping back in place takes you by surprise

you turn to look at him and he’s preparing to get out of the car as well

you decide not to comment on it as you get out and close the car door quietly

make your way home

with yoongi in your wake.

with your shoes kicked off by the door and your clothes messily thrown over your dresser, you slide into your pajamas

yoongi’s still on his phone, sitting on your bed

you know you deserve a cold shoulder but damn

you glance at him before getting into your bed, turning your back to him

you’re not sure he even wants to look at you

but then again, why did he decide to stay the night?

is it pity?

you suppose it is

cause if you’ve ever seen yoongi pissed off it was earlier today

“yoongi,” you say, trying to catch his attention yet again

this time he simply hums in response

you ask, “what are you doing?”

…

no response whatsoever

you frown at the wall

(since your back is turned to him)

“yoon–”

“give me a second, will you?”

oh

okay

he sounds a bit irritated

but that’s the least he should be

he has every right to scream your head off

and yet, all thats coming out of his mouth are words laced with annoyance

he’s been on his phone since you got out of the car

who is he talking to?

is he ignoring you or is he really just preoccupied?

but who could he be texting this late at night?

you can’t help but be curious

“who are you even talking to?”

and why are you ignoring me?

no, not why

you know why

and he has every right to be mad at you

“my boss, y/n. jesus.”

his boss?

why is he talking to his boss?

at this time of–

oh

oh.

is he

asking

for a day off tomorrow?

he took out his phone the moment you told him you didn’t want to be alone

has he been trying to get a day off? is that why his nose has been buried in his phone?

he finally locks his phone with a click and rises to his feet. “goodnight.”

you suppose he’s going to take the couch

“wait,” you call out, back still turned to him.

you hear him halt in his tracks, waiting for you to say whatever it is you need to tell him

“sleep here,” you pause. “with me.”

you almost choke as you try to get the words out

it makes you so nervous

will he think it’s a bad idea?

will he comply?

will he tell you that–

a few more moments until the bed besides you dips a bit deeper

okay

he’s in bed with you

back to yours

so close

yet soooo far

it feels like there’s a brick wall with a girth worth of 5 meters

he sighs quietly and rubs his eyes.

takes a deep breath before he says, “let’s talk.”

you’re quiet for a moment

simply staring at the wall

trying to steady your breathing

you begin, “what do you want to talk abo–”

“don’t piss me off.”

alright

you guess you deserved that one

you sigh quietly and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t respond

“i was selfish. what i did was selfish.”

again, no response

it’s quiet between you two

real quiet

until he finally speaks. “can i be shallow for a second?”

huh?

“oh,” you mumble. “go ahead.”

“you know,” he starts, “i married you not only because i liked you so much but because i thought you were the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

he continues, “well, in all honesty, i still do.” he doesn’t move, just continues to give you his cold back. “aside from having imagined to spend the rest of my life with you because i really believed it was going to happen, you, as a person, are everything i wanted and more.”

you continue to stare at the ceiling, feeling a tingle in your body that starts at your feet and slowly grows throughout the rest of your body.

“and not to be fucking gross but you turn me on so fucking much. was watching you eat my food last week and got so fucking hard just looking at you. you’re so elegant and sexy with everything you do. i look at you and feel so fucking lucky to have been part of your life.”

you clench your jaw in an attempt to block yourself from breaking out into a sob

“i can’t put it into words, y/n but, no matter what stage we’re at, i’m always gonna be so fucking attracted to you. stretchmarks and loose skin—i literally can’t bring myself to give a fuck. i don’t care what size you are or if if you’re bigger than you were at 18. isn’t that normal? you carried a baby for nearly a year. so what if you weigh more now? whatever. more to love.”

….

oh

oh.

okay.

and that’s

how you

start tearing up

your heart feels like its been shattered into a million pieces

and it’s yoongi who is holding the level 100 5 star sledgehammer weapon

but it’s also yoongi who has unlocked the ultra healing magic buff

“it must have been so hard for you.” he slowly turns onto his back too, allowing you to look at the side of his face. “i’m sorry for not taking all of it into consideration. in my defense, i’ve always thought you were perfect.”

you sniff quietly and bring your hand up to wipe your cheeks. you shake your head. “don’t apologize. please.”

it’s quiet again and he continues to stare at the ceiling in silence

“i just wish you would have been comfortable enough to tell me.”

and you wish that too

but it’s embarrassing

and humiliating to even think about, let alone trust someone else with it

he finally turns onto his side to face you. “i really do mean it when i say you’re the most beautiful woman,” he pauses, “until we have a daughter. then she’s gonna be the most beautiful cause she’ll look like me.”

a soft giggle escapes you as he jokes, welcoming it with open arms

you look up at him, eyes glued to the small smile on his lips

“i’m so sorry, yoongi.”

“i know you are. i am too.”

“are you mad?”

he thinks about his answer for a moment. “i was at first. thought i was gonna smash my car with my bare fists.” he nods. “but i don’t think it’d be right for me to be mad at you for struggling so much with something i failed to see. i guess i’m just..” he sighs. “upset about the whole thing. it could’ve been avoided.”

you sniff quietly. “how? how was i supposed to tell you i just wanted to enjoy more time with you when it was me that forced the divorce down your throat? it wouldn’t be fair, not to you.”

how are you supposed to tell the man you forcibly kicked out that you weren’t ready to let go of him?

he rubs his forehead. “why did we ever let it get that far?”

you stay quiet

sniff again

wipe your nose and wet cheeks

“because i was selfish and childish. i wanted you to chase me and convince me that i only belonged to you.” it feels good to finally speak honestly. “i suppose you were done playing those games.”

“why were you still playing those? i thought we could be adults so many years into our marriage.”

“because,” you start, “i was bored. i didn’t do anything. i was home constantly, i didn’t go out. i didn’t have shit to do. you were barely home,” you say shakily, trying to swallow down the sob that’s threatening to spill

“just wanted to feel something whenever you showed up but i was just…” you sniff again. “…so mad at you for leaving me lonely that instead of trying to fix things, i wanted to piss you off. make you mad. make you feel the way i felt.”

it’s quiet

you try to stop yourself from sobbing quietly but to no avail

“so long story short, you started shoving divorce papers down my throat in hopes i’d chase you and just say fuck you to my responsibility as your husband and jun’s father to make sure we had food on the table.”

well

you don’t even really respond to that

because isn’t that basically what happened?

yes, sure, you were bored

but yoongi’s feelings shouldn’t have been messed with

he doesn’t say much else

just turns his back to you again and says,

“let’s sleep.”

and you try.

even though it’s nearly impossible with that agitating knife that’s nestled in your heart.

to be continued

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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[scarletwinterxx]

my 200 - mark lee imagine

helllooooo, it's been a while😅 well to sum up the time i was gone, i've been busy with work, i cried alot after taeyong's enlistment, i secured tickets to see dreamies, i cried some more. i think that's it hahah anywayssss Mark Solo!!! i love love love the song🥺 and that's my inspo for this scenario, hope you like it!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics and gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"So, are you still mad at him?" Haechan asks again. The same question he's been asking since the other night you went home upset. Ofcourse being your brother he knows you, he might be annoying as heck but he does care for you.

"I'm not mad at him"

"Then why aren't you talking?"

"Who says we aren't talking?" you asked back

"You haven't charged your phone since yesterday. I would know since I can track you. Number two, you're actually hanging out with me"

You hit him on the arm, glaring at him

"No but really, you good?" he asks

"I don't like it when you get serious. But to answer your question, no I'm not so fine right now" you finally admit

"So you two really fought? wow, never thought I'd see the day"

"Shut up, we didn't fight. I just said something and he freaked out then I freaked out now we're here" you vaguely explain, Haechan look at you with a confused look on his face.

"Care to share?" he prods

"I said I love you to him, I'm not even mad if he didn't say it back because that's not why I said it but the way he reacted got me thinking maybe I shouldn't have said it. There, now you know"

Haechan looks at you for a few seconds before shaking his head and walking ahead without saying anything else

"Yah! Where are you going?"

"Away from your stupid" he teases you, "I'm already upset enough, you can atleast pretend to be on my side"

He stops walking making you halt too. Haechan takes a deep breath before speaking as if he's preparing to make a speech

"I'm only gonna say this now because it's still weird my bestfriend is dating my sister, so you listen okay? This is Mark we're talking about. The same guy who let me boss him around just so I finally let you go out for coffee with him. The Mark that stayed with you at the hospital when you sprained your ankle and wouldn't let you lift even your finger for weeks until you got better. The Mark who would get coffee for you when don't even like the smell of coffee. I have to listen to him swoon over you every time we hang out, I hate it but I like him for you. Is that the guy you're doubting?"

As you listen to his words, all those scenarios play in your head. Each one making your heart fill with warmth only Mark could make you feel. Haechan and Mark have been friends longer than you and Mark have dated, he knows his bestfriend and you trust your brother.

"Then what do I do? I don't want to freak him out"

"If anything, I think he freaked himself out" Haechan chuckles, "Believe me, when it comes to you his brain cannot function right. He speaks many language but he forgets all of them when it's you he's thinking about"

You smile at that, feeling better.

"You're still coming to open mic night, right?" Haechan asks

"Ofcourse, Mark's still playing so I'll be there"

"Good, talk to him after. Not before, after. He won't get the words out if you talk to him before"

That night you arrived at the chill bar rented for the event. Mark told you a weeks ago he's playing, you were excited to hear him play live.

Just because you're in a bit of a situation doesn't mean you won't cheer for him. That's why Mark has been looking at the door ever since he arrived. Every time someone walks in, he gets his hopes up to finally see you since he had his freak out infront of you but it's been 40 minutes and you're still not here.

He should've picked you up. As your boyfriend, he thinks that's his job but Haechan told him the two of you will meet him there. Atleast you're coming.

"Hey Mark, you're next" Dejun calls him, gesturing to the small stage. Mark takes a look at the door one last time before walking onstage, strapping his guitar on before facing the audience.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the dark corner you concealed yourself from his view. You've been watching him watch the door, a pang in your chest when his hopeful eyes turn sad.

You watch him get on stage, getting his guitar and tapping the mic to make sure it's on.

"Hello... Hi... Okay it's working. Uh Hi everyone, I'm Mark. For tonight I'm going to sing an original song I wrote. Hope you like it" he smiles, earning cheers from the crowd.

You don't miss the squeals from the females in the crowd, whispering amongst themselves while looking at him in a way you don't really like.

Standing straight against the wall, you wait for him to start

"First you crashed into

my life and you just broke

My roof and my window

girl you had me shook"

You knew Mark's singing voice is good, countless times he serenaded you. Him and his guitar and you as his only audience.

"Who told me

love would come down

like a million rocks"

"You are my rockstar

Without you

I’ll always feel alone

When I’m lost

you guide me home yeah

You make my whole heart

When nothing adds up

I’ll be your number

You’re a 106 and I’m 94 yeah"

You can't even say or do anything but listen to him. Each word sinking in, in your head you're wishing to the universe that the words were meant for you.

In that moment, his eyes meet yours. Just like that, Mark's gaze changes. Like his purpose for being here finally arrived. Now he's not closing his eyes as he sing, he's looking right into your eyes straight into your soul as he says the words

"A million different stars but you’re the one

First you crashed into my life and you just broke

My roof and my window girl you had me shook

I’m living that Drama in my head again

Who told me love would come down like a million rocks

The rock you came with was an alibi

You and I we have the same disguise

Even that long brim of grey cap can’t hide

So till night rolls in again, together Can we rise up

You are my rockstar

Without you I’ll always feel alone

When I’m lost you guide me home yeah

You make my whole heart

When nothing adds up I’ll be your number

You’re a 106 and I’m 94 yeah"

The crowd cheers as he finishes the song but all he can see is you. He puts down the guitar then makes a beeline towards you. Everything else is background noise to him.

When he gets to you, he can't say anything. The words getting stuck.

"You sound great. The song too" you tell him

"Thanks" he mumbles, making you laugh. Instead of saying anything else, you just throw your arms around him, instantly he hugs you back. Burying his head in-between your neck and shoulder, a few days is too long without your hugs so he missed you terribly.

"I missed you" you hear him mumble

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you bask in his warmth. You missed him just as much. Any misunderstanding already forgotten.

"Let's get out of here" he says, breaking from the hug first before leading you out the door

"Where are we going?" you ask

"Anywhere, I just want to be alone with you" he smiles, giving you a quick kiss on the temple before the two of you started to walk with no destination for the night.

"So... tell me about the song"

Your intertwined hands swings in between the two of you, you watch him smile to himself like he just remembered something funny.

"It's called 200"

"200?"

He nods his head, "like you know 106 plus 94" he reference the lyrics to his song

"Yea that too, what does that mean by the way?" you ask, genuinely curious as to what inspired him to name the song 200 and the meaning behind the love filled lyrics

"94 days, that's when we had our first kiss. On the 94th day since we started dating. We went ice skating, then I walked you home. We kissed outside your door" he tells you, his eyes stay on the ground while yours stay on him

You can't even begin to describe what you're feeling right now. Kind of confused but also very very much moved with his words.

"and the 106?"

"You know... the first time we... yea that." he scratches the back of his neck, getting shy to explain the second reference but you already know what he meant.

This time you stop walking making Mark stop too. Finally he looks up at you, "So 200?" you ask

He bites his lips, his mind trying to process the words because he doesn't want to mess this up. He moves so now he's full facing you, pulling on your other hand so now he's holding both and you're now facing him too.

"There are a lot of meaning for 200 actually. But one of them could be 'Divine Timing', it means to trust the universe and Heaven are working on it, that you need to wait before everything falls into place. You know I used to think it would be so hard to fall in love, I used to wonder how would someone know that that person is the one for them. What if they're not? What then? I had so many questions, I had so many doubts" he admits, explaining the meaning behind 200

"Then like an answered prayer, you came into my life. I've never questioned anything since. Not until you told me you loved me, that night I was at lost. Not because I don't feel the same, it's because I do. I do love you. How is it that the girl of my dreams and my reality loves me too and she said it first before I could? Do I deserve her? Do I deserve you?"

By this time, tears welled up on the corners of your eyes. Mark looks at you in awe, wiping the few tears that managed to escape

"Sorry I acted that way, I had so many things to say but I didn't know how"

"Haechan did say you tend to forget how to speak when you're with me" you joke, making Mark laugh

"Well he's not wrong, you just render me speechless every time" he tells you

"So the song was about me?"

"Yes, and each and every song I sang. Some of my own, others I've picked because it reminded me of you. You are the music of my life, my only muse. I'll be your music for this lifetime" he takes your face in his hands, memorizing every detail of this moment so he could sing about it for the years to come.

"You love me?" you ask, pouting adorably at your boyfriend. He nods at you with a smile on his face before kissing you sweetly

"Very very very much. I love you, so so much" He whispers against your lips, sealing each word with a kiss like sealing a promise to you.

You smile with each peck, your grin growing until you were giggling. Music to Mark's ears. "I love you, too" you tell him

"I know you hate math, but when nothing adds up just think 200" he jokes making you laugh

"You and your way with words" you playfully roll your eyes at him

"You love me"

"That I do, Mark Lee. That I do.  

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Oh the Assistant!Kara AU tho…so one night Lena actually gets Kara to leave earlier than her (sisters night maybe?) but as she’s leaving she hears something suspicious and heads back up to be just in time to save Lena from an assassin, and is consequently horrified because people are actually trying to kill Lena? Like, she’s used to hearing death threats again Cat but none ever materialized and the fact that these so and Lena so…casually resigned? to them? Enter supergirl mode lol.

Okay but what if Kara *isn't* there? Lena is assaulted in the parking lot or in the lobby on her way out, and Kara doesn't hear about it until she's called to the hospital for a ride home. Injuries are minor, but bandages are visible, and Lena is shaken.

Kara is livid.

"...and where was the security guard?!" She ends a long diatribe with a frustrated huff.

"I don't know."

Lena's voice is so soft in the confines of the elevator up to her apartment, it stops Kara in her tracks. She looks at her boss, who's leaning against the wall of the elevator looking rumpled and tired in a bloodstained blouse. The wisps of hair that have come loose from its style makes Lena look so young, and for the first time Kara realizes that her boss isn't all that old in the first place.

In fact, she doesn't seem much older than Kara herself.

And tonight, her empowered, forceful, kind boss is just a rattled young woman who was attacked alone in a freaking parking garage.

"Hey," Kara says softly. Taking a risk, she reaches out to rest her hand gently on Lena's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Lena's voice comes cold and harsh, shocking Kara before it almost immediately softens. "Just... if you're kind to me I might just burst into tears, and I really don't want to do that just yet."

"It's okay." Kara kicks herself. "Sorry. Right. I can be mean..."

"I don't need mean," Lena says with a small smile. "I just... I just want to be home."

Right on cue, the elevator dings open, and Lena manages to unlock the multiple deadbolts with shaking fingers. The apartment inside is massive, and Lena flips on every light as she moves inside, allowing Kara to trail in behind her. They come to a stop in the kitchen, where Lena reaches into the fridge for a carafe of filtered water. She pours herself a glass and takes a long gulp before speaking.

"Thank you for driving me. Is there anything I can get you before I head home?"

Kara shakes her head. "No, I'm good. I'll clear your schedule for tomorrow-- I heard what the doctor said about the concussion, and you really should rest."

Lena nods her gratitude. "Thank you."

Kara turns to leave, then thinks better of it and turns back. "Actually, do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

Taken aback, Lena's eyes widen. "I-- what?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's late, and it's a long way back to my place, and I shouldn't be driving when I'm so tired. They say it's as bad as driving drunk," she punctuates with a dramatic yawn. She doesn't care what excuse she throws out-- Lena's apartment is too dark and too big for Lena stay here alone tonight.

"I don't know, Kara... it wouldn't be appropriate."

"Please," Kara says, falling solemn. "For me. I'll sleep on the couch."

Lena looks at her for a long moment. Finally, she relents. "Don't be ridiculous," she sighs. "You can use the spare room."

And if Kara checks every nook and cranny of that spare room-- and every other unoccupied inch of the apartment-- for any hidden intruders before she goes to sleep, well.

Who could blame her?

[axelsagewrites]

Hello. Could I request a fic with f reader working at Richmond and Jan Maas faling in love with reader. Just fluff. ❤️

Jan Maas*Sweet As You

Pairing: Jan Maas x f!reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: pure fluff

Masterlist here

There were definite perks and draw backs of working at Richmond. On one hand as a receptionist, you got paid to do honestly not very much. However, on the other hand you had to deal with a weird amount of prank calls from football fans.

One recently developing perk was the free coffee you received every morning. No, it wasn't a company thing or from your boss or other colleagues. Every morning this week Jan Maas walked in with a black coffee in one hand and an iced caramel mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso in the other.

It all started when you happened to walk into work at the same time and he noticed the Starbucks cup in your hand. "Is that even coffee at this point?" He half teased half seriously wondered.

"It is coffee," you said, drawing out the words as you defended yourself as Jan opened the front door for you, "caffeine not enough for me. I need that sugar high to deal with you lot,"

Jan chuckled at you, walking you over to the desk where your coworker pretended not to be listening in. "Funny. I thought you were sweet enough. See you later," he said, walking away to leave you a blushing mess.

However as soon as he got out of sight Jan became equally as flustered as he realised what he'd said. What was worse was Sam hearing him muttering under his breath about it resulting in Sam telling all the guys who then set up a plan to teach Jan how to flirt.

The issue was he wasn't very good at it. Instead, every morning without fail he got your coffee for you. "Hey Jan," you called, rolling down your car window as you slowed down. It was 7am and he was walking to Richmond with two coffees in hand, "need a lift?"

Jan preferred to walk. He'd never really seen the big deal around cars. However, he was quick to accept your offer. "My coffees will bankrupt you," you joked as you accepted the drink before resuming your drive.

"Don’t worry about it," he laughed, "your worth the money,"

"Think you can buy my affection? “you teased as you were pulling into Richmond.

"Maybe," he said it quietly, his eyes darting away before back to yours. "Is it working?" He asked.

You turned the car off, taking a long sip out your coffee while pretending to think about it, "I think it might be," you finally said, a smile on your lips and a large grin on his. "Throw in a pastry next time and I'm yours,"

When people saw you get out the same car there were some rumours to say the least. Another drawback of the job. However, another perk was walking in right now with a coffee and a suspiciously sweet-smelling brown bag.

"I wasn't sure which to get so I picked whichever looked the sweetest," he said as he placed the bag down.

"You know me so well," you grinned, "thanks though. Take it you don't have time to have one before practise?" You asked despite knowing he didn’t, but you couldn't help but try.

Your smile plus the way your eyelashes batted had Jan Maas willing to pay the late fee. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the reception desk as you offered him a pastry, "You should make Stroopkoeken with me one day. You'd like them,"

"What are they?" You asked, not realising how adorable Jan thought your head tilt was in your confusion.

"They're like a Carmel biscuit. My mum would make them for me growing up. Better than any Starbucks pastry," he joked, “But you have to make them from scratch to get the best experience,”

“You’ll have to teach me some time,” you smiled back and is if on queue his phone began ringing.

Jan deflated when he saw his teammates call, “I’ll need to go now. I’ll see you later,”

As he began to walk away you cringed before taking a deep breath, “Wait!” you called making him stop in his tracks. “Are you free tomorrow night? Maybe we could try making those biscuits,” you offered with an awkward smile that he found insanely endearing.

A wide grin broke onto his face, “I’d love to. It’s a date,” he said before actually turning to go to practise, leaving you a grinning mess.

-

“A baking date is perfect!”

“Nah man you should go out to a restaurant for the first date,”

“Oh, what if you take her to Sam’s place for dinner first?”

“There’s a new bar up the street you could go to after,”

“What you gonna wear bruv?”

“Make sure you actually clean up. Chicks notice that kinda stuff,”

“Oh, you should get her flowers. Birds dig flowers,”

“And make sure when you go to kiss her- “

“Woah woah guys!” Jan said, standing up from the bench and pushing past his teammates who’d essentially jumped on him after practise when they found out why he was late, “It’s just a first date. Well, I think it’s a date. I said it’s a date, but people here don’t always mean date, oh god what if she doesn’t realise it’s a date?” Jan began to panic, turning to his equally clueless mates.

They were all panicking till a loud, “Oi,” stopped them, “Don’t listen to these pricks,” Roy told him after pretending not to care the whole time, “Shower, shave, tidy up, and calm down. She’ll know it’s a date since all you two do is flirt like some snot nosed teens,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy’s right,” Sam said, standing to put a hand on Jan’s shoulder, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,”

“Not what I said but alright,” Roy shrugged but this time he got ignored.

Well apart from Jamie who rolled his eyes before adding his own words of wisdom. “Yeah, mate just be yourself,”

-

The kitchen was now a mess, sugar spilt everywhere, and a pot that looked like it would never be clean again and of course a plate of perfectly made biscuits. “I don’t know how my mum made it look so easy,” Jan said.

You laughed as you reached up to wipe the flour off his forehead, “Yeah but they taste good so who cares,” you said, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink whenever you touched him.

“They’re almost as sweet as you,” he smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face making your own skin flush.

Enough was enough you thought, “So tell me something,” you said, Jan humming as he waited for you to ask, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you nearly whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

Pairing: Jan Maas x f!reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: pure fluff

There were definite perks and draw backs of working at Richmond. On one hand as a receptionist, you got paid to do honestly not very much. However, on the other hand you had to deal with a weird amount of prank calls from football fans.

One recently developing perk was the free coffee you received every morning. No, it wasn't a company thing or from your boss or other colleagues. Every morning this week Jan Maas walked in with a black coffee in one hand and an iced caramel mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso in the other.

It all started when you happened to walk into work at the same time and he noticed the Starbucks cup in your hand. "Is that even coffee at this point?" He half teased half seriously wondered.

"It is coffee," you said, drawing out the words as you defended yourself as Jan opened the front door for you, "caffeine not enough for me. I need that sugar high to deal with you lot,"

Jan chuckled at you, walking you over to the desk where your coworker pretended not to be listening in. "Funny. I thought you were sweet enough. See you later," he said, walking away to leave you a blushing mess.

However as soon as he got out of sight Jan became equally as flustered as he realised what he'd said. What was worse was Sam hearing him muttering under his breath about it resulting in Sam telling all the guys who then set up a plan to teach Jan how to flirt.

The issue was he wasn't very good at it. Instead, every morning without fail he got your coffee for you. "Hey Jan," you called, rolling down your car window as you slowed down. It was 7am and he was walking to Richmond with two coffees in hand, "need a lift?"

Jan preferred to walk. He'd never really seen the big deal around cars. However, he was quick to accept your offer. "My coffees will bankrupt you," you joked as you accepted the drink before resuming your drive.

"Don’t worry about it," he laughed, "your worth the money,"

"Think you can buy my affection? “you teased as you were pulling into Richmond.

"Maybe," he said it quietly, his eyes darting away before back to yours. "Is it working?" He asked.

You turned the car off, taking a long sip out your coffee while pretending to think about it, "I think it might be," you finally said, a smile on your lips and a large grin on his. "Throw in a pastry next time and I'm yours,"

When people saw you get out the same car there were some rumours to say the least. Another drawback of the job. However, another perk was walking in right now with a coffee and a suspiciously sweet-smelling brown bag.

"I wasn't sure which to get so I picked whichever looked the sweetest," he said as he placed the bag down.

"You know me so well," you grinned, "thanks though. Take it you don't have time to have one before practise?" You asked despite knowing he didn’t, but you couldn't help but try.

Your smile plus the way your eyelashes batted had Jan Maas willing to pay the late fee. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the reception desk as you offered him a pastry, "You should make Stroopkoeken with me one day. You'd like them,"

"What are they?" You asked, not realising how adorable Jan thought your head tilt was in your confusion.

"They're like a Carmel biscuit. My mum would make them for me growing up. Better than any Starbucks pastry," he joked, “But you have to make them from scratch to get the best experience,”

“You’ll have to teach me some time,” you smiled back and is if on queue his phone began ringing.

Jan deflated when he saw his teammates call, “I’ll need to go now. I’ll see you later,”

As he began to walk away you cringed before taking a deep breath, “Wait!” you called making him stop in his tracks. “Are you free tomorrow night? Maybe we could try making those biscuits,” you offered with an awkward smile that he found insanely endearing.

A wide grin broke onto his face, “I’d love to. It’s a date,” he said before actually turning to go to practise, leaving you a grinning mess.

-

“A baking date is perfect!”

“Nah man you should go out to a restaurant for the first date,”

“Oh, what if you take her to Sam’s place for dinner first?”

“There’s a new bar up the street you could go to after,”

“What you gonna wear bruv?”

“Make sure you actually clean up. Chicks notice that kinda stuff,”

“Oh, you should get her flowers. Birds dig flowers,”

“And make sure when you go to kiss her- “

“Woah woah guys!” Jan said, standing up from the bench and pushing past his teammates who’d essentially jumped on him after practise when they found out why he was late, “It’s just a first date. Well, I think it’s a date. I said it’s a date, but people here don’t always mean date, oh god what if she doesn’t realise it’s a date?” Jan began to panic, turning to his equally clueless mates.

They were all panicking till a loud, “Oi,” stopped them, “Don’t listen to these pricks,” Roy told him after pretending not to care the whole time, “Shower, shave, tidy up, and calm down. She’ll know it’s a date since all you two do is flirt like some snot nosed teens,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy’s right,” Sam said, standing to put a hand on Jan’s shoulder, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,”

“Not what I said but alright,” Roy shrugged but this time he got ignored.

Well apart from Jamie who rolled his eyes before adding his own words of wisdom. “Yeah, mate just be yourself,”

-

The kitchen was now a mess, sugar spilt everywhere, and a pot that looked like it would never be clean again and of course a plate of perfectly made biscuits. “I don’t know how my mum made it look so easy,” Jan said.

You laughed as you reached up to wipe the flour off his forehead, “Yeah but they taste good so who cares,” you said, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink whenever you touched him.

“They’re almost as sweet as you,” he smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face making your own skin flush.

Enough was enough you thought, “So tell me something,” you said, Jan humming as he waited for you to ask, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you nearly whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

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[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • XI

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loudThat we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.1k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter eleven - The Drain (EDITED: 09-03-24, not new new to the story!)

new? read from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the courtyard singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+++++

RUFFILO

With my phone in hand, I paced back and forth across the room. Jolly and Folio’s eyes tracked my every movement, while Juice mewed from Folio’s lap. Despite their attempts to comfort me, not even a cute cat could cheer me up right now. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

I ran my thumb across the glass to refresh the app once more. No new messages. Clicking the call button for the hundredth time I almost screamed once it rang until voicemail again.

“Noah’s been gone for hours.” I swallowed harshly, “and there’s still no trace of Y/N.”

“Nicky-” Jolly began, standing up from the couch to place a soothing hand on my shoulder, stopping my pacing briefly, “I’m sure Noah’s fine- he’s probably freaking the fuck out looking for Y/N. Maybe even went to the cafe and Sammy’s to fill her bosses in…”

My stomach sunk at his words, and my mind began to race. Something didn’t feel right. I knew Noah, and something felt wrong. He told me he was going to go to the cemetery to clear his mind- and I don’t think he wouldn’t go find Y/N by himself, not after everything that happened. He knew we were stronger in a group.

I shook my head, refreshing my phone for the hundredth time before moaning in frustration, “No. I think he’s in trouble.”

“He’s probably still at the cemetery,” Nick reassured me, standing up with Juice in his arms.

“Can we go look?” I asked, eying both of them as I pressed call, ringing Noah again. No answer.

“He took Y/N’s car so we’d have to walk…” Jolly groaned.

Nick snorted, “Walking is for plebs. Let’s just Uber.”

“Really?” I sighed, giving my brothers a look of relief that they’d come with me.

Jolly laughed, patting my back as we grabbed our shoes, “If it eases your mind seeing him talking to some headstones, then let’s go.”

I threw him a look, glaring, “You know it’s not just any headstone.”

“I know, Nicholas. I know.” Jolly reassured me and I nodded curtly.

After half an hour, we reached the cemetery and I noticed that Y/N's car was still parked in the lot. My mind filled with a glimmer of hope as we walked down the unkempt path. However, the atmosphere was stagnant and my throat tightened with anxiousness. As we approached Noah's parents' plot, my hope faded away as there was no sign of him anywhere.

“I don’t see him,” I mumbled, walking with haste down the path.

The graves were now in sight and I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. Even though the car was still there, something was wrong.

There was a fresh set of white flowers scattered across the front of the graves, the vase that normally sat between the stones lying on the drying grass.

“He could have just left,” Nick chimed in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Without the car?” I shrugged him off, pointing at the flowers, “He wouldn’t have laid them out like that. Why is the vase knocked onto the ground?”

Squinting my eyes at something that lay a few feet away from the stone, I felt my chest warm, and my head began to shake. My limbs halted and I watched Jolly brush past me, his head tilting as he bent down, picking up the black object.

“Is this-” He began, flipping it in his hand, inspecting the singular sneaker.

“Noah’s,” I said, my stomach dropping.

Folio shrugged, “It could be anyone’s.”

I reached for the shoe, pointing to the hole that was beginning to form on the toe, “No this is one hundred percent Noah’s- the hole forming? He’s had this pair of vans for over a year. Plus, they’re a size twelve.” I peeled back the tongue, analyzing the faded tag.

“How would he lose a shoe here?” Folio asked.

“He wouldn’t,” Jolly said, looking around the cemetery, his body turning quickly as he scoped out the trees, “He would have taken it off on purpose.”

I turned around, my mind beginning to spiral. First Y/N, now Noah.

He had to have been taken.

“Do you think he’s leaving a clue?” I whispered, staring at my brothers before glancing at the grass, my feet carrying me further into the cemetery.

“Those twins must’ve taken him,” Folio spit angrily, his fists clenching.

I watched Jolly as he leaned around the headstones, his fingers tracing the rock for any signs Noah may have left, before picking up one of the flowers. He twirled it between the pad of his thumb and index finger, staring at the dishevelled petals.

“There aren’t enough flowers here to be a full bouquet, and some of the petals are ripped…” Jolly’s eyes locked with mine briefly before I scanned the ground and trees, landing on a speck of white in the distance.

I pointed as my feet carried me towards the spec, “There.”

A few petals were dispersed down the path, and as I peered ahead, another sprinkle of white caught my gaze.

“I think he’s left a trail,” I said, my breathing becoming erratic as my eyes widened, fear sinking in.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick jogged up to me, pushing my shoulder to send me forward.

The three of us ventured deeper into the graveyard, passing various weathered tombstones, and surveying the ground every few feet for new petals. The further we walked, the more sparse the trail became. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

“Should we keep going?” Jolly asked, pointing to the gate that was open at the back of the cemetery.

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking, “We might as well.”

As we approached the gate, I felt a chill run down my spine. The rusted iron creaked ominously in the wind, and beyond it lay a dense thicket of trees. The forest looked dark and uninviting, but I knew we had to press on.

"I don't like this," Folio muttered, his eyes darting nervously from side to side.

"Me neither," I admitted, "but we have to find Noah."

We stepped through the gate, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. The trees loomed over us, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. I strained my eyes, searching for any sign of white petals or a clue from Noah.

Suddenly, Jolly grabbed my arm. "Look!" he hissed, pointing to a nearby tree.

There, caught on a low-hanging branch, was a scrap of fabric.

+++++

Y/N

The lights in the room flickered, casting a yellow hue that created eerie shadows against the walls and made my head spin. The air was heavy and damp, permeated by a sense of despair that seemed to cling to every surface.

I coughed, my eyes burning from tears as I lay on the bed in the motel room. My limbs were bound tightly, and I struggled against the ropes for what felt like the hundredth time. Each tug only caused the rope to dig deeper into the wound it had created.

It had only been two days since I arrived here, but it felt like an eternity. Two days of pure agony and torture.

The door of the motel room clicked open, and I reflexively tensed up. But my fear quickly faded when I saw that it was Kiean. He came in holding a bag of fast food, and the delicious smell immediately made my stomach grumble. I tried to hide my hunger by swallowing hard and pushing away the urge to eat. But my stomach betrayed me with loud noises as Kiean locked the door and glanced at me with concern. "Are you going to finally give in and have something to eat?" he asked, tossing the key onto the rickety table by the wall. I avoided eye contact, keeping my mouth shut and refusing to engage in conversation.

The blonde walked over to me, the ice in the soft drink chittering against the paper cup as he placed it on the nightstand. He then opened the brown paper bag, pulling out some fries and some chicken strips.

Kiean's attempt at a smile was met with me turning my head away. He let out another sigh and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I struggled against the rope holding me still, trying to distance myself from him, but my leg remained pressed against his back. The contact only fueled my anger.

"I even made sure to get your favourite sauce."

Old friends, same disease I'm killing myself again Old friends, same to me I can't get away from it

With a stern look, I directed my gaze towards him as my stomach grumbled once more. The tantalizing aroma of greasy food wafted in the air, making me feel even more sick with hunger. My throat was parched from lack of water. Kiean's eyes followed me with worry as he removed the wrapper from the straw and dipped it into the beverage before holding it up to my lips.

"Please drink, Y/N," he urged me.

The paper brushed against my lips and I squeezed them together, closing my eyes in resentment. He held the cup for almost a minute before I broke, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking up the liquid. I downed the entire thing, gasping for air once I stopped.

“Thank you,” Kiean murmured, opening the box of chicken strips and sauce. I tugged at the rope again before wincing as it dug into the laceration that formed.

Kiean’s brows furrowed as he stared at my wrist, before holding the strip to my mouth for me. No longer able to resist I took a bite and almost moaned at the flavour, swallowing greedily.

“Stop tugging on the rope,” He almost pleaded, “I’m sorry it’s hurting you. Kade would kill me if I took them off.”

Old friends are just a memory That I didn't need

His green eyes bore into me with unease, “You know how he is.” Yeah, I do.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as he fed me. I was grateful for the food nonetheless, despite them kidnapping me and tying me to a bed frame. I don’t think I could have made it much longer without eating.

One question frequented my mind, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I knew that deep down I was safer with Kiean than his brother; and I was afraid that at any moment, he would step through the door.

“Where is Kade?”

Kiean’s head snapped toward me in shock, surprised that I finally spoke.

“Oh- he’s out right now,” Kiean shrugged, turning his gaze to the floor, “I think he’s looking for your boyfriend.”

My heart clenched in worry, mind wandering to Noah and the boys. Were they okay after the crash? Were they hurt?

Were they looking for me?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mumbled, staring at the blonde. He turned to face me, eyes analyzing my expression. His pupils dilated in knowing, his stillness a telltale sign he knew something was up.

Kiean was always able to read through me.

“But you have feelings for him,” He said as we watched each other, the gaze between us speaking for me.

I tried my best to remain stiff, but I nodded, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know why you left Y/N,” Kiean looked away, looking at his hands that were folded in his lap, playing with his fingers, “and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. So many people were hurt. So many people dead.” I whispered, my voice wavering. I blinked in an attempt to hide my tears, but that only made them fall down the skin of my cheeks.

Kiean picked at his nails, “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked us over.”

My mouth formed a straight line as I stared at the patterned bedsheets.

“The whole syndicate fell once you left. Matt followed. Then Orie, then Bryan. Our organization collapsed after you disappeared…and the Rule Maker took over. You know how much that would have pissed Kade off.”

My body stiffened at the mention of the Rule Maker. He was the biggest crime syndicate in North America other than us; always trying to take Fidelio down.

“Once business shifted and we tried building up again- but since we lost the crew it was almost impossible. We became petty dealers for a bit, but no one wanted to deal with Kade anymore. So, we’ve been working under the Rule Maker as the foxes.” Kiean sighed.

“And he’s blamed me for everything,” I laughed bitterly.

Kiean nodded, “I mean, our business fell apart once you left Y/N. We have nothing now.”

“So you blame me too?” I asked, glaring at him. Kiean didn’t say anything.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be part of that shitty lifestyle anymore. I was tired of being used, and I was tired of being part of a problem,” my voice began to rise, “So many people got hurt, and I did some heinous things. I needed out, especially after everything with Kade happened.”

“Kade has issues, I know… but he loves you Y/N-”

“Oh fuck off!” I yelled, my body pulling against the restraints in frustration, “Don’t you dare say he loves me.”

My chest heaved as venomous words left my tongue, “What he did to me was not love. I wish he was dead.”

“Look-” Kiean placed a hand on my own, which caused me to flinch. I tried pulling away, but couldn’t due to the ropes grasp, “I know you’re angry. You hate him, and you hate me, but we need your help.”

“Why would I ever help you,” my teeth clenched in animosity.

Kiean watched me carefully, “You put that mask back on for your friend.”

I avoided his gaze once again.

“You knew we’d be able to find you, and you knew Kade would come in a heartbeat…So why did you risk everything you ran from, for him? If you were so done with this life, why are you willing to return for this guy?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “He needed help.”

“Y/N,” Kiean’s green irises begged, “If you’re willing to help someone you just met, can’t you help us? Help me?”

Kiean knew he was my weakness. He had always been there to save me from Kade’s hands. He protected me and kept me safe, despite how awful life was back in Canada. He was my best friend. He was my brother.

“We’re going to take down the Rule Maker,” He said firmly, standing up from the bed now.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, a laugh almost escaping my lips from disbelief, “What?”

Kiean turned to the closer in the motel room, pulling out three fox head masks. Kiean’s, Kade’s, and…

“Yours,” Kiean said, holding up one of the masks. The silver paint glinted slightly from the flickering yellow motel light.

“We need your help, just this one last time. I promise we’ll leave your life for good if you help us.”

I stared at the mask, almost rolling my eyes, “And if I say no?”

The motel door opened, and I sucked in an anxious breath. Kade slammed the door, his expression furious as his sweat-stained hair hung over his forehead. My limbs warmed nervously as my lungs collapsed, air unable to escape.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away

Had he been listening this whole time?

“Then I’ll kill you, and your little fuck toy,” Kade seethed, lifeless orbs glaring in my direction.

Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

NOAH

It was the fear of the unknown that amplified the sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt. Being at the mercy of someone else and unable to anticipate their next move, left me terrified and completely hopeless.

The blindfold that covered my vision left me anxious as my body thrashed back and forth from the restraints that tied my arms back, the metal cold against my skin. As I attempted to wiggle free the chains that held me swung against the chair, clanging in my ears. The wind whistled around the building I must’ve been in, causing me to shiver.

I screamed angrily, swinging aimlessly before the chair toppled over and I landed on the cement ground with a thud, the side of my head smacking into the pavement.

I didn’t necessarily believe in a God- but I prayed.

I prayed that Y/N was okay and that she knew I was sorry for everything.

I prayed that whatever happened to me, my brothers knew I loved them. Knew how sorry I was that our lives were ruined because of me.

I prayed that they would be able to find the trail I left behind.

Old friends, same disease I can't get away from it Old friends, same as enemies

“There’s no way you pulled that pharmacy heist off by yourself,” Anger seeped through every word, every syllable.

“Who is she?”

I laughed, my body aching against the ground as I continued wrestling the chains, “You underestimating me?”

The man growled, pushing my face into the cement forcefully, causing me to laugh in resentment. Even through the blindfold, I could tell a snarle was embedded on his face.

“I stole your fucking car at fourteen. I can do anything I need to myself.”

“You sure about that?” I felt my body swing back up from the ground, two sets of hands sitting me upright in the chair.

“Who was wearing the Volto mask?”

I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself

“Fuck that I know,” I jeered, “What’s with the theatrics of all this?”

With my question ignored, I felt something cold and sharp press against my arm, “How do you know Y/N Y/L/N?”

I tried to not let my sarcastic smile fade at the mention of her name, “Who?”

“I’m not stupid boy,” The man yelled, a stinging warmth bolting up my arm, causing me to scream.

“Fuck!” I hollered, attempting to pull away, but I couldn’t move, nor see. Hands held my shoulders in place.

“I did some digging. You didn’t just break into her house, No,” he laughed, “No, you’ve been living there.”

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain

Why was he asking about the mask and Y/N?

My mind wandered back to Vincent, recalling our conversation days prior.

“Heads, you tell me about your little friend Y/N.”

My gaze narrowed and my fists clenched at the mention of her name. What did he want with Y/N?

“Tails, you tell me about your masked friend.”

Vincent said his boss wanted to know.

“So tell me,” I felt the blade dance across my skin, threatening, “Is she my missing mask?”

With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

RUFFILO

As we strolled down the street, Folio turned to me with a curious expression. "Do you have any theories about who Y/N might be?" I shook my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he mused, "because two masked men chased us and kidnapped both Y/N and Noah and now she's revealed herself as a badass hacker and thief? That doesn't sound like your average barista if you ask me."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. The only thing she ever mentioned was that she was trying to escape her past and feared being judged…and that she knows some pretty dangerous people.”

“She took us in without a thought,” Jolly piped in, “She had to have had a similar lifestyle. No one would just take in a group of criminals.” He then stopped walking, reaching into his pocket.

Jolly stared at his screen confused, the device vibrating with a surprising name dancing on the screen, “Vincent?”

Putting the phone against his ear he watched us, a confused look glazing over his features. I stood closer to him, trying to listen in on the conversation. Jolly rolled his eyes, pushing me gently.

“Fuck you calling me for? I don’t have shit bro.”

“Yo, you know where Noah is? Did this asshole flake?”

“Why?” Jolly asked, “You were supposed to meet him?”

“Yea, he had more shit for me- didn’t show up at the ally. Thought that maybe I scared him off since the last time we talked.”

“Well, he didn’t show up because he’s fucking missing.”

“Missing? The hell you mean missing.”

“Missing as in we have no idea where the fuck he is, and we think he was kidnapped; so your deal’s gonna have to wait.”

“Wait- I think I know who may have taken him.”

Immediately I stepped back to share a look with Jolly and Nick. Did Vincent know the twins?

“Shit I gotta go. Meet me at the pier in 20.”

I heard the phone beep and Jolly stared at the screen in confusion, “Folio?”

Nick hummed, “What?”

“Did Noah ever use his first name when dealing with Vincent?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head, “Pretty sure I told him to just go by Sebastian.”

Jolly shoved his phone back into his pocket, pushing past us and walking quickly down the street, “Seems to me Vincent may be more involved in this.”

+

We hurriedly made our way to the pier, trying to cover the long distance in just twenty minutes. Walking was not ideal, but it was our only option as the cemetery was too far for a quick drive. The wind picked up, sending cold droplets of water flying towards us and making me shiver. As we reached the pier, I noticed a man leaning against the wooden railing, gazing out at the water. He turned towards us with a small smile and stood up straight.

“Jolly? Folio?” He acknowledged them, and Jolly whistled in response.

“Strange seeing you unmasked.”

“Well, I’m not going to wear it where everyone can see us,” He threw his hood over his head, shielding himself from the wind.

“So what do you mean you think you know who took Noah?” I asked.

He looked at me, thick brows sitting heavily above his eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nicholas. Ruffilo.”

“Ah,” Vincent mumbled, “The one that convinced Jolly to stop selling to me in the first place all those years ago.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Jolly placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“It was a mutual agreement, Vince. You know why we stopped, we got a new boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, leaning against the railing once again, “Well speaking of bosses, I think mine took him.”

“Is your boss a set of twins that wear these stupid fox masks?” Nick asked.

Vincent laughed, raising a brow, “Uh, no. But that’s interesting.”

Jolly, Nick and I looked at each other. So who took him if it wasn’t the twins?

“Whois he?” I asked.

With a shrug, Vincent turned to look out at the water again, “I dunno. I’ve never met him before, and we only communicate through his little henchmen. We call him the Rule Maker.”

“The Rule Maker?” Jolly chuckled for a moment, but then his smile quickly faded. “Wait, are you talking about THE Rule Maker?”

“Who's that?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.

Folio ran his fingers through his hair. “Only the biggest drug lord in North America.”

“Well, why would he kidnap Noah? We haven't been involved in anything related to drugs in years, except for the last month,” I said.

Vincent shrugged. “I was interrogated by one of his henchmen the other day. He wanted information about the person who helped him with the heist since they were wearing a mask belonging to the missing member of Fidelio.”

I quickly glanced at Folio and Jolly, making eye contact with both of them.

“Fidelio- isn't that a drug syndicate in Canada?” asked Jolly.

Vincent confirmed, “Yeah, it is. That was the first time we saw that mask in months. Then my boss started asking about some woman named Y/N Y/L/N.”

My brothers and I all had the same reaction: wide eyes and physically turning to face each other.

“So you do know her,” Vincent concluded.

“I mean-” Nick scratched his neck.

“Well, my boss knows her. He has been looking for her for years,” Vincent sighed, “So, Sebastian knows Y/N, and has a connection to the Volto mask. Yada yada, the boss wants answers that I couldn’t get out of Noah the other day. So he probably took him.”

I ran a hand over my face, groaning audibly. This is bad.

Jolly stared at me concerned, “Y/N is the missing member of Fidelio. The timeline would add up.” Fuck.

“Interesting,” Vincent chimed in, “So it’s the same person. That girl is the mask.”

“Well, did your boss say how he knows her?” Nick questioned.

The dealer shook his head, “Nope. And I don’t know where Sebastian would be either- but I think that’s who took him.”

“Why are you helping us?” I said warily.

Vincent smiled, his grillz shining against the setting sun, “Well, he provided good business. I got paid well.”

“I don’t know how we are supposed to find him though,” Nick said, “We were following a trail of flowers for a bit.”

Wait… following…

“Oh my god,” I smacked my forehead in annoyance, “Our trackers!” I lifted my pant leg, showing it off to the boys.

I wasn’t sure how we didn’t realize it sooner, but Noah still had his tracker attached to his ankle. At least, I hoped.

“How are we supposed to track it? It was Y/N who had the system,” Jolly said.

“Noah’s number might still be on her laptop. It’s worth a shot.”

+++++

Y/N

Kade sat across the room and asked, "Where is your laptop?" He slumped back in his chair and gave me a cold glare.

"Why would I tell you?" I retorted.

He chuckled, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "Do you have a death wish?"

I snarled at him, "It's not my fault you didn't secure your system properly. Figure it out on your own."

"Well, I didn't expect you to betray me and erase everything." His smile was pathetic and devoid of any warmth.

“Y/N,” Kiean pleaded, and I rolled my head to look at him. He sat on the other bed, eyes begging, “Just cooperate. Like I said, if you help we will leave your life forever.”

“How am I supposed to know that’ll happen?” I mocked, “You chased me and my friends, almost killed us in a car crash with guns, and fucking kidnapped me?”

The room was silent for a moment before Kade spoke up.

“I just want my fucking business back.” He growled, “So like I said, help me, or he is dead.”

I swallowed harshly, knowing that Kade’s threats were never empty. He always followed through with them, and I know he most certainly would kill him.

I didn’t want to help them… but I didn’t want to risk Noah’s life.

“It’s at my place,” I sighed.

Kade stood up, clapping his hands together, which caused me to close my eyes and flinch, “Then let’s go.”

+

We arrived at my house in a rental car that the Twins had gotten for us. I fidgeted with the bandages on my wrists, wincing as I did so, grateful for Kiean's care to prevent infection. My stomach churned as we parked outside of my front door; part of me hoped that the boys would be there to rescue me from this mess, but another part feared for their safety if they were there.

“Are your boyfriend’s minions home?” Kade spat, turning off the engine.

"How am I supposed to know? I've been held captive," I retorted with a sneer. Kiean gave me a pointed look, and I rolled my eyes before the three of us made our way to the door. Kade had taken my key and unlocked the house, stepping inside silently. The twins listened for any signs of movement, and I scanned the area, noting that the boys' shoes were missing.

“I don’t think they’re home,” I said. The twins nodded to each other, following me up the stairs to my room. Juice mewed behind, following us.

Once we entered I went to my desk, pulling the laptop off the charger. I handed it to Kiean who opened it, prompting me to type in my password.

“So now what?” I asked just before the front door opened.

The twins glanced at each other, holding a finger to their lips and my breath quickened, listening to the voices of the boys. They were here.

“So where is her laptop?”

“Probably upstairs. C’mon.”

Was Noah here too?

The shuffle of various sets of footsteps ran up the stairs and as soon as Folio turned the corner he let out a surprised yelp when our eyes met briefly.

“Y/N!” He screamed, taking a step forward before Kade cocked his pistol, holding it straight ahead.

“What the fuck-” I heard Ruffilo and saw him peer behind the corner, his eyes widening once he saw me.

Kade grabbed my wrist tightly, causing me to wince in pain. "Move, or I'll shoot," he threatened as we passed by Folio and Ruffilo with their hands raised in surrender. He dragged me out of the room, past the boys, and into a hallway where I saw Jolly waiting. But then, my eyes locked with a stranger's gaze and I didn't see Noah anywhere nearby.

I pulled against Kade as he tried prying me down the stairs, gun still pointed toward the boys.

“Wait-” I begged, causing Kade to stop, “Where’s Noah?”

As I stared up at Ruffilo from the stairs his gaze made my heart sink.

“He was kidnapped,” Ruffilo muttered.

“C’mon,” Kade spoke through gritted teeth, giving zero fucks about Noah. We reached the bottom of the stairs and Kiean pushed me softly toward the door.

“What?” I yelled back, complete worry taking over me, “By who?”

"The Rule Maker," Jolly hollered back, his voice carrying through the hall. The twins stopped in their tracks, their faces mirroring a mix of surprise and uncertainty as they exchanged a glance with each other.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

Chapter 12 - Coming Soon

(New story parts chapter 12+, no longer re-edited work)

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[iambic-stan]

Concertina

Writing this story was very therapeutic for me. I hope someone else, cardiophile or otherwise, can get some comfort and reassurance out of it, too.

"I'm not policing what you think and dream," was the lyric I fixated on, though it was only the first verse of the song.  Every explanation of the song "Concertina" I'd read contradicted my own interpretation.  Wasn't it mostly a song about feeling bold enough to be strange, even if it was frightening?  There was applause in the bar when I finished, and made me feel like the risk of a new track selection had paid off.  Tori clapped with the most vigor, as she usually does.

"Girl, who sang that one?" she asked, noting that it was different from my usual selections like Stevie Nicks and Pat Benetar.  I stared at her drink, something with pineapple and gin if I recalled, with this hypnotic red-orange-yellow ombre effect.  Without taking my eyes off of it, I said, "It was a Tori Amos song.  Not a big hit or anything though.  You share a name," I said, lightly touching her shoulder, "You should sing something of hers one night."

"Not if the DJ has anything Taylor," she laughed.  It was fair.  Tori loved to sing Taylor Swift at karaoke, just like how she loved to talk about Gaylor theories, analyze her lyrics, speculate about what her various IG and Tumblr posts might foretell, and scour Stubhub and every other possible site for the least-bankrupting concert tickets.  I was just along for the ride, though I had a couple of her albums at home myself.

"Ok, do something from Lover," I suggested.  

"I don't know.  What if all they have is "YNTCD?" she whined, abbreviating Taylor's divisive LGBTQ anthem from 2019, one that I happened to enjoy despite any criticism.  

"I know you like it, and maybe I'm being a terrible Swiftie, but isn't she just trying to hijack our trauma and claim it as hers?  *Unless* she is gay but didn't want to say so explicitly in the song.  It's great that she gave so many queer people screen time.  I didn't even know who Billy Porter was until I saw the video.  But then again, why did she make it about resolving her beef with Katy Perry?  That was so random.  Anyway, I'll see what I can do...for you, Elena."  She ran her hand down my arm and then squeezed my hand for a second.  She's drunk, I thought, but I appreciated the affection.  Her hand was soft and it felt right--sensual without the suggestion of something more.  I wouldn't want anything more.  

Well, that wasn't entirely true.  I had come to feel at home with Tori over the past year--my first close friend since college who also happened to be queer.  I had lingered longer when hugging her, and since she knew I was asexual, I didn't think she ever took anything the "wrong" way.  At home I had a bright magenta stethoscope that sat on my nightstand, waiting.  But since I'd never told Tori that 1) I loved heart sounds, 2) loved using stethoscopes, and 3) wanted to use one with her, my stethoscope could have been waiting for Godot.  I had strongly considered putting her (the stethoscope--named Alex for my love of Wizards of Waverly Place) in the living room so that Tori could just happen to notice her while we were watching a movie.  But I played the conversation out in my head and felt mortified with every possible script I wrote.  Still, whenever I pictured her wearing the binaurals and listening to my heart, I felt like skipping through a field of daisies.  It just seemed like I was struggling with level one of a video game while ravenously reading walkthroughs of the battle with the final boss I might never meet.  Not that it was a game to me--my love of heart sounds was and always had been one of the most important things in my life.  It kept me sane and grounded, and most of all, it was how I felt close to someone I cared about.

I felt a bit of envy as I watched her throw her arm around the DJ, whose adorable curly head of hair and petite stature brought to mind Jorgeous from one of my favorite shows--Rupaul's Drag Race.  But I wasn't jealous that Not-Jorgeous was enjoying Tori's affection; I wished I could have that sort of magnetism that drew everyone to me and put them immediately at ease.  Trauma had prevented me from being so gregarious.  I watched as four more karaoke singers ran up to Tori, happy to see a familiar face (she was there every week) and get their expected hug.  No, I didn't necessarily want that much attention, I realized--I only wanted the confidence and grace to be completely open with her.

When I heard the first few sharp, synth-laden notes, I knew exactly what song it was.  Tori was deadly serious in her delivery and everyone in the bar turned to gaze at this tall, striking woman who would almost look imposing if her face weren't so soft and kind.  "Combat, I'm ready for combat," she sang, and I was shocked that the DJ would have this track from Taylor's Lover album that we could agree on.  In a moment of accountability that Taylor-haters never acknowledge, the singer tells us she's been "the archer" and "the prey," and feared her propensity for causing hurt as well as her own crippling wounds might make her difficult to live with.  As Tori deftly crescendoed her way into the bridge (I had been given numerous lectures on her distinctive bridges), I felt like my heart beat louder as well.  Suddenly embarrassed, I turned away and stepped onto the bar's patio, my long wrap skirt catching a doorknob in my haste.  I pulled it out and turned to look at the wisteria still bright near sundown and the brick water feature with the goldfish.  There was a couple in the corner deep in conversation, voices so hushed I couldn't make out a single word. That was my last drink, I thought, staring at the crescent moon and the smattering of stars I could see in spite of light pollution.  I felt too much; why didn't alcohol make me numb like it did everyone else?

"Hey, did you like it?" I heard her say behind me.  I turned and saw the sheepish grin on her face.

"Oh, it was beautiful!" I exclaimed.  "I was just out here getting some air is all."  

"I was thinking about what you said last week."  She came closer and put her arms around me as she said it.  My head landed near her chest, and I could almost hear something if it weren't for her thick jacket.  I let myself fall into her embrace.  "I think it would be exciting, actually.  I want to do it.  I've never done that with anyone before," she continued.

I racked my brain and tried to remember what she could be talking about, slowly recalling that I'd had 3 cocktails and 2 shots last week.  There were a few portions of my last karaoke night that I didn't recall at all.  "Wait, what are you talking about?"

She looked at me, her eyes crinkled a little.  Gently, she pushed my hair out of my face.  "You're such a silly drunk and you don't remember any of it," she said, shaking her head.  "You surprised the hell out of me by talking about having a stethoscope and wanting to listen to my heartbeat.  And that you wanted me to listen to your heartbeat.  And I was speechless because that seemed like such a weird, random thing to say.  But then I thought about it and I'm really curious now.  None of my girlfriends ever wanted to do something like that.  Not that you're my girlfriend, but a friend who happens to be a girl, anyway.  I'm down."

I breathed in sharply.  How could I have said all of that without realizing what I was divulging?  My heart was really pounding then, and as if she read my mind, she placed her hand on my chest.  "Oh!" she squeaked, surprised.  "Am I embarrassing you?  Please don't feel that way!  I guess I should've thought you might've forgotten, like that time you went on for like 10 minutes about whether Drag Race All Stars is rigged like you were the only person in the room and had zero recollection of it the next day."  Without really thinking, I quickly placed my hand over hers, holding it fast to my chest.  Her hand so near my heart felt just right somehow.  I closed my eyes and only opened them when she pulled away to check her phone.

"Our Uber is on its way.  I told them to go to your apartment.  Is that ok?  Mine is a mess and Savannah has her boyfriend over, anyway.  He always brings that cheap, stinky weed.  Plus, we could watch more Babylon 5.  I want to see if the praying mantis thing is a 'legitimate businessman' ha."

The N'Grath reference made me smile.  "That sounds great," I almost slur, grinning like an idiot.

Mollie, my dachshund, is almost wider than she is long, so it's a struggle for her to make it up to the couch to properly greet Tori when she comes over.  This night was no different.  "She doesn't even eat that much," I said for probably the twentieth time.  "It's like she just has the worst possible metabolism, poor babe."  I stroked under her chin.

The DVD was loaded, and with the confidence that only alcohol could summon in me, I'd stealthily transferred Alex from my bedroom to the coffee table in the living room while Tori was in the bathroom.  When she emerged, she smiled all big and plopped back down on the couch.  My voice boomed in my head when I picked up the stethoscope and said, "This is Alex.  She was named for Alex Russo, you know, when I was younger.  Well, not that much younger.  But still.  Yes, I know it was a kids' show," I say shyly, wondering why I can't shut up.

Tori laughed and picked her up, turning the chestpiece around over and over again to switch from diaphragm to bell, hearing that satisfying click each time.  "She doubles as a fidget toy, I see," she said.  "Oh what's that?" I had to follow her gaze because I was staring at her chest (not her breasts--give me some credit) rising and falling and could barely think of anything else.  She picked up a pill bottle from the coffee table, one that I usually put away when someone is over out of an overabundance of caution. But I hadn't realized we were both coming back here tonight.  "Spiro?" she asked.  "I used to take that, like in my 20s when my acne was a lot worse.  What do you take it for?" she asked innocently.

I looked up at her, struck dumb and wordless.  We both stared in silence for a few seconds too long, and that was when it dawned on me.  Elena, she doesn't know, you moron.  You're about to ask her to do something intimate and she doesn't know.  Does it matter?  Maybe, maybe not.  I sighed.  This was not the way I wanted her to find out.  What if she changed her mind, decided I'm not one of her girl friends after all?  What if she declared this some kind of "trick"?  What if she got mad, felt betrayed, and blabbed all over social media?  What if it got out at work?  This wasn't something to play with, I realized, and it made me feel like I was suffocating suddenly, imagining all the worst case scenarios. They flicked through my brain rapidly, like someone pressing the lever on one of those retro viewfinders at lightning speed, taking in all of the little thumbnails in a blur.  I gasped and then deliberately began to breathe in and out very slowly and evenly.  I grabbed the arm of the couch as if I was falling.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry.  You don't have to answer that.  It's none of my business," she insisted apologetically.  I could tell she was uncomfortable.  I had made her uncomfortable.  But it didn't feel like there was any escaping it now.  The mood had changed dramatically, all thanks to my reaction to her question, and as much as I yearned for her to listen to my heart and had pictured it many times in the last few months, it was pounding because I was terrified.  She put Alex down on the couch, where Mollie reached over to lick her eartips, and took my hand.  "What's wrong?" she whispered.

I looked up at her and it felt like someone else's voice when I choked out, "I'm trans."  Her brow furrowed.  When she didn't respond right away, I added, in a whispered rush, "I grew up a boy.  I mean I'm not one.  I never was.  I thought you knew.  That's what the prescription is for."  I exhaled loudly, then realized I'd been staring at the floor and not facing Tori.  She let my hand go, almost in slow-motion, and she looked at my body as though she was seeing it for the first time.  Oh god, I winced.  Please don't look for masculine things.  

"I'm such an idiot," she finally said, almost inaudibly.  I stared in horror as she said,  "Why didn't I know?!?"  

I felt my mouth go dry.  My voice was hoarse.  "It's not like I wanted everyone to know," I said.  "It's not like I want to lose my job."

"Oh, Elena!" she exclaimed.  "You weren't thinking it would make a difference, were you?"  When I didn't respond, she wrapped her arms tightly around me, and tears flooded my vision.  "You're one of my best friends.  You're my only friend who will go with me to karaoke, for one," she laughed.  "You're the only person besides my mom who listened to me carry on about my undying devotion to Amari, even after the third time she fucking cheated.  Not my finest moment, but that woman had a hold on me."  I inadvertently let out a snort, remembering her beautiful but treacherous ex. 

She kept one arm around me and reached again for Alex.  "She's probably got Mollie slobber on her now," I pointed out.

"Ha, I'm not worried about it," Tori said.  I watched her insert the ear tips, thinking she had a 50/50 chance of putting them in correctly, and she managed it.  There was something transformative about her wearing the binaurals, and it dried my tears to see it.  She was only about ten years my senior, but in that moment I felt like the child I was always meant to be--one who was free to play how I wanted, with whatever toys I wanted, and just be who I was without being called names I didn't even understand.  She was the older, wiser one who could really see me.  I was safe.  She unfastened just the top button of my shirt and I looked at her face as I could feel the coolness of the metal circle on my skin.

A minute passed, then another, and they were brief but filled with knowing that she could hear me so well.  "That's so cool," she said softly.  "It was fast at first and now it's slow and steady.  I kind of feel like...I know you in a new way," she smiled and looked at my face before looking back down at the instrument.  I felt so happy I thought I could cry again.  She moved the chestpiece around--left and right and center, then between my breasts.  "It sounds different in different areas," she observed.  "Like, the first sound is louder in some places and the second is louder in others."

"You're listening near a different valve each time," I whispered, thrilled that she heard those nuances that most ordinary people don't seem attuned to.  She nodded, the look on her face one of wonder.  I breathed along with her for another few minutes while she listened, and it felt like the sort of connection I only dreamed of feeling, knowing that most people don't "get" this.  I felt almost reborn, and completely satiated. 

When it was my turn to listen, I tried to push past my reservations and self-doubt.  "Is it ok if I put this under your shirt?" I asked tentatively, pointing while holding the chestpiece.  

"Girl, yes!" she practically sputtered.  "After all the poking around I just did?  It's only fair," she laughed.

Mollie jumped up to grab and lick my hand as I moved to place the stethoscope on Tori's chest, and we both had to stop what we were doing to laugh.  When I slipped it underneath her blouse, the sound was clear and strong.  She watched my eyes as I breathed in several systoles and diastoles and it made her smile.  First, I listened for the semilunar valves--aortic and pulmonic, then, gaining confidence in what could have been an uncomfortable endeavor, moved downward to listen properly at the atrioventricular valves--tricuspid and mitral.  Tori leaned forward so I could easily access these different auscultation points.  I stayed at each one for awhile, trying to commit this sound to memory in case we never did this again.  When I was finished, she said, "Wow, that was kind of a vulnerable feeling but not in a bad way."

"You sounded so, so beautiful," I told her softly, and was pleased when that display of raw emotions didn't elicit a raised eyebrow.  This wasn't a night I'd forget anytime soon.

Thanks so much for reading! If you're able and would like to, click here to donate to the Trans Lifeline, a hotline that provides life-saving assistance to trans people, staffed by trans people.

[upslapmeal]

Space Babies

Ok so I've been hopeless at doing my usual Episode Thoughts during s14 but if I don't get them posted before the finale then I never will. SO. the next few days will be a trip down memory lane to a whole 6 weeks ago before I'm off to the cinema on friday night!

here we goooo

no cold open we’re going straight in babes (heh)

I know we had it last ep but I do love a good seeing-the-tardis-for-the-first-time face

‘I’m the doctor’ yes you are!!

man I wasn’t a huge fan of 15's theme just hearing on its own in the concert but hearing it in context with him it works SO well

‘kinda posh’

‘they used titles’ and then i kidnapped a couple of teachers, told one to drop the 'Foreman' and the rest is history

ngl I've totally lost track of the gallifrey sitch

the master was going to blow it up then he didn't then the Doctor was going to then some guy stayed behind instead and then flux??

whatever we're back to last-of-my-kind square one

this is gallifrey theme my beloved how I have missed you

Martha and Bill yelling I told you so in the distance about the butterfly

‘Rubathon Blue of the 57th hemisphere hatchlings’ good to know I've got my Ruby tag sorted early doors!

anyway alien companion when

ooh they're going for a flying tardis

love fifteens energy!!

‘most of the universe is knackered babes’

‘the question is why did I run’ Doctor running is a key part of your whole deal. you know this right

‘yet again push the button’………when was the first time

(I have since learned there was meant to be a song on the jukebox that tied to this...would have been nice to see the jukebox being used. and also would have made these comments make sense)

…..baby looms?

‘food????? they’re not tomatoes!!’ lmao Fifteen is SO outraged

oh Ruby’s getting an End of the World moment <3

‘no boss or rent or taxes’ yeah forget time and space travel, NOW Ruby's thinking she's gotta get in on this

oh that baby is unsettling

oh no that baby mouth does not match that voice 

‘mummy and daddy are here!’ Ruby and Fifteen: 😬

it's so weird having fairly confident small child voices paired with very vacant baby faces

.....do these babies have nappies? that they change??

aww you can really see Ruby is used to kids, lifetime as a foster sister <3

ok Captain Poppy is the only voice so far that kinda works

‘oh popsicle’ naww Fifteen is so sweet with them

Fifteen and Poppy are so cute!!

also lol I love RTD going hard with the timeless child at every opportunity

‘nappies are changed at 1800h’ ok well that explains that

Ruby: ‘I didn’t mean to scare you 💞’ Fifteen: 'hey kids it's the BOGEYMAN!!!!!!' Ruby: 😠

ok listen. I know this is not it. but the boots and the length of the trousers.......Ruby's mum kinda looks like Thirteen

oh that's very much a hug-is-a-way-to-hide-your-face hug there

‘that’s the fate of every refugee, you have to physically turn up on someone’s shore’

Eric and the world’s most tiny and useless sword

‘a crock of waste product'

‘nice plan but what now' Ruby hon. this was your plan

you can really tell Ruby is used to looking after kids

‘don’t you touch them you illegitimate person’

FLAMETHROWER BABIES

oh Fifteen knows Ruby’s a keeper

‘oh babes…space babes’ lol Fifteen's just here to have fun (space) baby

‘it’s snot’ ‘it’s not’ the beauty of the english langauge

‘it is one of your children!!’ :(

even the (space) babies think that death by airlock disintegration a bit much

awooooooo!

I guess seeing the doctor save the bogey monster made them less scared??

appreciate RTD's commitment to getting some good fart work in both his first series of this show lol

but what will happen to the monster on the new planet??

like sure it's their sibling but.....does it know that?

‘I’m very very happy’ says the baby with the most sorrowful eyes I’ve ever seen

tardis key!!

Ruby letting 15 into the tardis <3

RIP Carla Sunday's kitchen ceiling 

first a crack and now this......at least the Doctor's giving the local plasterer good work

‘what the blinking flip’ Cherry Sunday's got a nanny filter on her

‘tell your mum not to slap me’ Thirteen got off light with Yaz’s mum

now when are we meeting the timelord called The Saggy Sheet??

the Doc's just going around giving their name willy nilly now lmao

as it should be I never enjoyed their name being a Big Mystery

kinda wish we got to see Ruby's family react to learning more about the Doctor!

hmmmm the dna scan is giving me v s6 vibes (derogatory)

Well that was a weird one, but since when hasn't DW been weird! Ngl it took me watching a second time to enjoy it a bit more because I was just SO thrown off by the baby voices lmao, but it was just generally a fun time, nothing too serious and just a chance to see a bit more of Fifteen and Ruby's dynamic! And it did tie in nicely to the ideas of Ruby and the Doctor both being abandoned, Ruby being a foster sister and the Doctor being the last of their kind. Two baby episodes in a row is enough for me though, glad it looks like next ep is baby-free, space or otherwise 😅

[mr-laveau]

Ayo it's your boy, uhh, skinny penis- bitch you know who tf it is hi munchkin <3 xoxo

What's your listener's name and nickname? Sweetheart, name pending,,,,

What's their backstory? As you may or may not remember - My SH is Afro-Latinx, from an empowered family. The previous generation (their parents) called out DUMP on mistreatment of human born and unempowered humans (being detained, lack of jobs and representation) which started a whole commotion for the treatment of everyone but empowered humans (feeders, humanborn, and unempowered humans) and led to restructuring of DUMP. Think if there was a magical civil rights act and equal employment act. Anyway, my SH comes into play when DUMP catches them in the wrong place/wrong time and some higher ups think this is the perfect moment for revenge - either SH goes to jail and destroys their family's upright reputation and a family member's run for office OR they work for DUMP as a way to keep an eye on the family. They hate every second of it and face a lot of pressure to conform (gender presentation wise, accepting smart comments about being a stealth and some other microaggressions) but they want to protect their family.

What's the desired aesthetic of your listener character (punk, greaser, bimbo, scene kid, schoolgirl)? I'm feeling make noir sexy again. Like if you made a 1940s mafia boss in modern day and VERY sexy but also stylish. Gotta keep up with fresh to death did you see my ice Milo Greer. Pinstripes, suspenders, harnesses/holsters, etc. But like also in a bring your own gender I don't trust your gender with raisins in it kind of way.

What's your listener's gender presentation like? Yeah so gender as in mind your business. Androgynous as in I do what I want. It's masc, it's femme, it's ambiguous, it's all of the above. Really the point is constantly serving hot girl (gn) shit and looking super sexy next to Milo. They're that super hot stylish couple everyone wishes at least a little bit they dressed like because it looks effortless. My SH uses they/them pronouns and identifies as queer as in what's it to you (or genderfluid!)

What's your listener's ethnicity? Afro-Latinx! I wanted a listener who could dance bachata, okay? They're Dominican.

What's your listener's age? Ummmmmm. I think about the same age as Milo, maybe a year older? So 31 this year.

What's your listener's body type/build? Taller than Milo for SURE, I think they're like tall-tall. Like at least 5'10. Also they're a dancer and a runner (investigator things) (perhaps they were even a track star) so they've got a tall, muscular kind of body type - but don't be afraid to give them some body fat! They're strong!

What's your listener's star sign? Taurus!

What are your listener's most important relationships and who are they connected to? Their most important relationships are for SURE with their family. Since dating Milo, they finally told their family why they started working for DUMP (lots of anxiety but they were met with a lot of support and love). They are super close to their family (which is a big extended family, lots of aunt and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and so on) and so they spend lots of time at family dinners/parties/celebrations and love to bring Milo with them. Because their family (unintentionally at first) became so politically active in Dahlia for the rights of human-born, unempowered humans, and feeders, they have a lot of political connections through their own work and through their family members - definitely in a well connected family!

What's your listener's hobbies/interests? They love to dance - big inspiration for them. They like partner dances and particularly love Bachata (something something fond memories watching their parents and family dance together and learning as they grew up) but they just like to dance in general. You will be catching them at Zumba classes at the local gym with the aunties and grandmas. They're also really connected to community events - there was a lot of distrust created by them joining DUMP and so they are really invested in their community service and improving their community. They loooove to cook, but they're a "let's cook together" not "I'm cooking get out of the kitchen" kind of person. Definitely a food experimenter and sometimes it can go badly. Also makes a mean cocktail - always invited to dinner parties or wanting to host them with Milo.

If your listener was a deity from a known mythology, what deity would they be? Why would you ask me this. I don't know! Maybe Terpsichore, one of the nine Greek muses associated with dancing? You don't understand how central dance is to this character. They are always dancing.

What Audio RP series are they from? RedactedASMR - Sweetheart

What kind of lover are they to their partner/what kind of friend are they? In a few words - silly-goofy, observant, and a whore (said with love). As for a friend, still silly-goofy and observant, but I think they're affectionate as hell. Think of a really sociable cat.

What is something/are some things that your listener values? They really value family and community - firm believer in it takes a village and we are all our brother's keeper (except of course when it comes to them because they should be able to help everyone and not need any help themselves. sweetheart things.) There is no understanding how invested they are in protecting and standing up for their community and that's why they put in 4x more work (and overtime) than others at DUMP - they believe in helping people and not going with the easy solution. So family, community, doing something you're passionate about every day, and fairness/justice.

Pick a song that you think represents your listener. https://open.spotify.com/track/3qQbCzHBycnDpGskqOWY0E?si=e8cb80d8d36a45b3 This song started making me think about songs for listeners to dance to and kind of kick-started this whole idea. I just have an image of Milo and SH dancing to this song together in the kitchen while something is simmering on the stove ok?

What's the inspiration behind your listener's design? I wanted a listener who could dance really well, and decided a speaker who DEFINITELY can dance is Milo. And then I had to figure out the whole cop thing, so here we are.

Could you give me a vague concept of what your listener's visual vibe is? Modernized sexy noir film - but if you could be the femme fatale and the detective and the criminal at any given point. Truly, they do it all.

What are some extra tidbits you wanna tell me about your listener? Neither Milo nor Sweetheart are good with scary stuff (despite them being a stealth) and neither of them are killing bugs. They call David or Asher to handle them (I think David kills them but Asher puts them outside). Sweetheart and Aggro? Best friends. Milo complains that they're closer than him and Aggro - something about a stealth having cat energy and Aggro just gets it. "The girls that get it, get it, Milo."

Laveau's Listener Design Lab - design #001 - Sweetheart - Lexi Moon

Heyyyy Lexi! Good to see you in my inbox and congrats on getting your listener as the first design for the labs! It was wonderful getting to work on a SH and your concept really stood out to me when I first saw it so I had to draw it up!

Design Notes!

For this design, your initial concepts made me think of a few people I could implement for inspirations to your SH's design. Those people being Catwoman from DC and Gomez Addams from the Addams Family!

From Gomez, I wanted to make Sweetheart's suit similar to the patterning of Gomez's while adding Catwoman's femme fatale flair to the design. You made a note where you wanted SH to look like a detective, a femme fatale and a criminal all in one go so I chose to aim for darker blues to show professionalism whilst implying a sense of mystery to the character–and of course we can't forget every femme fatale's signature bold lipstick colour. You can also see some of Catwoman's influence in the nails as I figured it'd be fun for them to make witty remarks while snapping back at Milo with hand gestures. Additionally, I decided to add a few embellishments to show SH's lack of total compliance to the dress code of D.U.M.P by giving them piercings and tattoos; The moon earrings here is my favourite because every SH should have a moon motif but also given the symbolisms associated with the moon and the energy you wanted your SH to capture, I felt it was the perfect choice; the blue rose tattoos are also fun imo because the thorns can be interpreted as restrictive shackles or as "a rose with thorns", the choice to also incorporate blue roses was also informed by my knowledge of what they mean symbolically (that being mystery, admiration, uniqueness and aspiration) . Finally, I also tailored SH's clothes to be more ready for action whilst being fashionable and danceable (including the oxford shoes I added) so they can always move unrestrained whilst also being the hottest thing that Milo ever laid eyes on.

Overall, this was a really fun concept for me to work on and I really enjoyed being able to design your listener, hope you enjoy!

wanna have your listener designed by me? Check out my rules to the Listener Design Lab and send an ask my way!

[aotopmha]

I have finished Dawntrail!

I will have a spoiler-free post (this one) and a spoiler-y post (probably one of my following ones) of my very general thoughts.

If there's a wish to avoid even this kind of post, then the warning is here.

For spoiler-free impressions, I will say that I did notice a bigger inconsistency in terms of the voice work.

The final boss had straight-up flat delivery that didn't exist in most cutscenes for ALL voice actors.

Everyone is also mostly fine when talking normally, but when yelling or stronger feelings are needed, especially the newest actors feel strangely off.

Wuk sounded absolutely fine and consistent in 6.55, but there were points where she just sounded really flat in the actual expansion.

I'm also in the camp that the credits theme sounded off. The chorus was fine (and the same track was completely fine when used in a couple of other cutscenes), but the main vocalist sounded really off. It took me out of what was otherwise a very solid final stretch of story. And the singer has done some great stuff before!

It's all really odd and I didn't think I would have these complaints ever again after A Realm Reborn because the voice work since then has ranged from good to amazing.

I'm really curious about what's going on behind the scenes.

FF14's vocal tracks have been weak at points to me, but not once have I felt a vocalist sounded absolutely awful.

Otherwise this expansion is up there in terms of the soundtrack, might be my favourite so far. Incredibly strong all the way through aside from the vocalist in this single track.

The graphics update has done wonders to endear me to the world and this will be the first expansion I will absolutely max out the FATEs for perhaps even just this reason alone. It's a miracle how much more strongly you can sell a world with better lighting and just a little bit more object density.

The content itself is also absolutely fantastic - if the story really bores you, I at least recommend skipping through it to do the dungeons and trials and maybe go back for the story via New Game+. The encounter design is refreshing, from a whole bunch of new mechanics to more interesting fodder enemy usage.

The class changes, while feeling relatively minor have felt like really good smoothing out of awkward elements.

I especially feel this with Dragoon, and as much as I miss Plunge, Dark Knight's new ability animations alone go a long way to add to that smoother feel, as well.

i also adore Viper, which I think is my favourite melee out of the ones I've played. Simple, but speedy and satisfying to play.

I will absolutely still remain a DRK main in a general sense, though.

Will be running dungeons to get everyone along all of the game.

Finally, I think the story came together really nicely by the end, with some interesting threads left behind.

It is much more simple than Shadowbringers and Endwalker, but I think it was still effective. As I've said in previous posts, it's just really thematically strong and followed that strength right to the end, even if I have varied opinions on all of the characters.

In terms of immediate impressions, content-wise (dungeons and trials in particular), as far as base expansions go, I'd place it above ARR, Heavensward and probably Endwalker (Endwalker's solo duties rocked and narrative and gameplay integration is still unmatched, but the encounter design itself isn't as distinct).

Story-wise I'd probably place it above A Realm Reborn and Stormblood because it has a similar spirit of exploration with much better pacing within its individual areas. Every time I felt the story started dragging in its own ecosystem, it moved on and the answers by the end were satisfying and made sense while ARR and StB actually didn't have that many mysteries to even think about, so had much less impetus to at least seek those out.

It had no Labyrinthos, Ruby Sea, Moogle quest or Mt. Gulg setup. But it wasn't as complex in terms of character writing as Endwalker, Shadowbringers and to some extent even Heavensward and Stormblood.

Though, as said, this is only speaking in terms of the base expansions, the only comparison I can make. Because the patch content did amazing narrative things for both Heavensward and Stormblood in particular in my eyes.

(I actually have no idea what to expect from the Dawntrail patches. Which is, once more, both super exciting and scary because the threads left behind are pretty much a complete mystery.)

So in a general sense, I'm an early Dawntrail defender. I enjoyed it a lot. It truly felt special as my very first on-content expansion, too.

Now on to the optional dungeons!

(Have heard some great impressons on them!)

[throwaway-yandere]

The Fox Hunt (Yandere Mafia!Cyno, Tighnari, and Alhaitham/Reader)

A very brief summary of chapter 2 for those who had to skip due to CWs: You had been bottling your grief. You hired Alhaitham as an underboss and he tagged along when you negotiated with Diluc. (Thanks to his presence, you avoided getting kidnapped by the Visconti). When you visited the church, Rosaria offered to help you track Tighnari down and Cyno shared his story about losing his younger brother later on. At night, you decided to visit your old underboss's grave. An old friend, Dainsleif, found you in the cemetery, and helped you finally cry your eyes out for all the lives you lost that day.

CW: yandere & religious themes, mafia syndicates (therefore guns, violence, etc). Possible major character death. THIS IS AN INTERACTIVE FIC: YOUR CHOICES MATTER.

"O Capo! My Capo!" - Chapter 3

Previous chapter

—----

[4 years ago:]

"You seem to be stealing fleeting glances earwards the whole time I've been leafing pages."

"Ah, so you've noticed." You spoke sheepishly. "My apologies, Professor, but your ears are…"

Tighnari's ears boastfully straightened as he shrugged with a tiny smile.

"They do not feel as nice as you're imagining. They honestly just feel like any regular cat's or dog's."

"Your behavior says otherwise." You said. "But it's deserved. You groom it every other hour, don't you?"

"Hah?"

On a late 1910s night, renowned writer Professor Tighnari prepared his next discussion in the Innamorati Familia’s mansion. 

Why inside such a dangerous place? Well, what is Teyvat without corruption? The Syndicates remained in control for most of Teyvat, and no military forces can quell their power. It reached a period where people cannot envision life without these organizations as detrimental to society. No man can exhaust the flames that burn brightly amongst the Fatui mafiosos, and should they try, they'll only find smoke in their wounded chest. 

Professor Tighnari joined the Innamorati Familia when several academics from his university inexplicably vanished. The fox believes they'll target him next based on their trend of research topics. He initially gave his services in exchange for the security of his research, but unanticipatedly discovered that everyone in the Familia has values, culture– precious lives of their own. They were kind people who simply had a penchant for violence. As strange of a revelation as it may sound, they lived their lives hurting as little as they could with their religious restrictions upheld by their capo.

Not long after that, the hitherto snarky professor had become close friends with the aforementioned boss.

"Don't think I don't notice that every time I'm about to enter the room, you brush your fur like you're five minutes late to a party." 

"I-I just wanted to look presentable, that's all. Do you think I'd show up to work with bed hair? Who am I? Dimitri?"

Aware of his sharp tongue but lacking the means to keep it in check, Tighnari accidentally insulted your underboss. The hairs on his body stood and he was ready to make a fool of himself by offering an apology, but your usually unreadable resting face looked warm.

"Mhm. Sure. I'll choose to believe that." Without hiding your curiosity, you turned back to his ears. His ears were not touched, despite your hands being close to his head.

"A-as you should." Fortunately, Tighnari is good at masking his emotions. If cowardice overcame him, he would encounter a blade's glimmer rather than your gaze. Tighnari digressed by returning to his books while maintaining the illusion that his thoughts were clear.

"Alright then. Platonically, can I pet you?"

"... Excuse me?"

"You're one of those Vulpes who always wondered why close friends would think touching your ears would make you angry right?" You told him in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. 

Tighnari is a smart man, yet he is unable to understand how your mind may go in circles and still arrive at a logical conclusion. He did ask, but it didn't make sense.  You sincerely advised him to give up most possessions and gain a new perspective from the experience when he sought guidance on how your deduction functions. There is no way in hell that he would act in that manner.

You continued. "I'm just skipping that whole step. So, are we intimate enough for me to run my fingers through your hair?"  

Tighnari snorted. "Phrasing, Capo."

"So, am I a close enough friend to touch you in that special area?"

"You'll never get me flustered– I might just bite you instead if you keep testing me."

"What a major shame."

Your gaze lowered to the pages he was writing. Tighnari is a well-known botanist at the University of Teyvat, a public university for bright students with limited financial resources. His intricate writing style regarding the fundamentals of bryophytes speaks volumes. You doubt that students can understand what he jotted down, but then again, Tighnari's an effective communicator.

In all honesty, you hated those books, not because of their contents, but because of the memories laced within them.

These were the type of pages you sift through in hopes that you will be the one to decipher a cure. Dottore used to help you sort through whatever books were more easily digestible. Nowadays staring at something related to moss feels akin to reading about an end of a long relationship. It was fun and exciting, but ultimately the compatibility led nowhere. As much as you want to tell him that he should take his research elsewhere, he'd probably reply with a sassy "Or what? Are you going cage me?" reply. Simply not worth the effort or time.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks dusted in a pinkish hue. "Whatever. You can pet me if y–"

"Mosses huh? Why this area of study?" Those words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Tighnari tucked his tail underneath his chair, his eyes unblinking. 

" … I have a theory."

You nodded, recognizing the shift in his tone. "Go on."

"The Goddess of Flowers often described in their books that Sumeru's mosses have an intricate healing property in them that can only be harnessed by those who are as knowledgeable as the Scarlet King."

"I never thought you were a devotee."

"I'm not," Tighnari answered. "I only believe in Gnosticism when it benefits me."

Spoken like a true University of Teyvat graduate.

"But phytotherapy is a rather complex and time-consuming field– why focus on this?"

"And why does a Capo like you know that?" Tighnari asked, and you digressed immediately to avoid him probing on things he need not know.

"–Our familia is doing fine, Professor. Hmm... Is there someone in particular that you're praying for good health–"

"You have Eleazar, don't you, Capo?"

You knew it. He saw the recollection in your gaze when you glanced at his books. You weren't surprised that he figured it out quickly. You were just waiting for him to confess that he knew your condition. However, you just didn't expect him to ask at that very moment.

This time, you patted his head without asking, tracing your fingers around his fluffy ears. You grinned. Your smile was just a centimeter off and your shoulders were square; neither of those rigid signs sent him a positive response. The way you held his ears was restrictive, far from the quote-unquote "platonic" gesture you offered earlier. Your soft chortles sent chills down his spine and your glare froze his nerves akin to Snezhnayan rivers.

"Hoping to sell that information, Vulpes?"

"Of course not!" Tighnari was shocked to hear himself raise his voice. "I'm not stupid."

You hummed and pulled your hand away. Tighnari may have acted tough, but you knew he was shaken by that exchange. 

Oh well, it's not like you were being serious. 

You just did that so you can hold his ears. (By the way, he lied. They're even fluffier than most animals.)

Unbeknownst to you, Tighnari found your touch enthralling. He shook by an entirely different reason compared to your assumption.

Talking to you was addictive. Tighnari could take his studies elsewhere, but what's the point if you're not there?

He chuckled.

Save for the low-volume classic jazz the fox played in the background, you both indulged in the comfortable silence of each other's presence. An atmosphere as cozy as this makes it tempting to brush your cheek against his shoulder and flutter your eyes shut– but the dawn hasn't crept in and you will not be deterred from your sleep schedule. Tighnari's pleasant pen strokes came to a halt, releasing you from your trance.

"Capo?"

"... Yes?" You sucked your yawn in.

"If– If I told you I could find you a cure, but I'd have to sell my soul for it, what would you do?"

"Easy question: don't."

He was taken aback. Tighnari did not expect that answer.

"But why?"

"I know that look in your eyes, Tighnari." You shifted on the sofa, doing your utmost to stay awake. "Those were the same eyes Dimitri had when he killed his step-sister. That's the gaze of a feral animal. You're part of my familia, Tighnari– I'm not letting another fratello of mine lose himself to greedy impulse."

"What if–"

"No."

You spoke dangerously low in the tone Tighnari hears when you interrogate those who were chained in your basement. This was not the voice you used to talk to your men. This (Y/n) was not just commanding– this Capo was daunting and domineering. And he would loathe being at the receiving end of your torturous whip and fingers.

Suddenly, Tighnari had an epiphany.

Before he could save a kind friend, the professor would have to save a cold-blooded murderer first.

"Alright. Fine then. If you don't want to be the patient who'll help me get a Nobel Prize then have it your way." Tighnari joked, but his mind was made up.

He won't do as you commanded. 

"But don't think I'll stop studying mosses. The world doesn't revolve around you, Capo, I still have many to save."

And just like that, he retired for the night. 

Once upon a time, these half-asleep conversations were routinely done in order to check up on one another. A Capo is the busiest person one could be in Snezhnaya, and it warmed his heart to know you allot some time for his mundane conversations. But these heartfelt gestures are now mere ashes behind Tighnari.

Never to return.

—----

[Morning, 1 AM:]

The Fatui Headquarters is a daunting place.

Filled to the brim with murderous sociopaths, no sane man would act juvenile amongst your crowd. This room never fails to make you feel small. Everyone, from 2nd to 10th, showed up dressed to the nines with capes and fur, which was slightly less grand than the funeral clothes everyone wore for La Signora. Their extravagant yet sensible winter attire contrasts sharply with your unimpressive standard Prussian-blue coat in the sea of whites and blacks.

"Can't believe you showed up."

You turned to face the front. Scaramouche, in his custom-made Kasa hat, sat on the opposite end and sneered with disdain.

This gremlin never took a shine to you. The feeling is mutual. Whenever he utters a nasty word, the impulse to clothesline him to the nearest tree arises.

"It's not a habit of mine to miss meetings, it's not gonna change now no matter your wishes, Scaramouche."

"You dare use that tone against me? Remember who you are talking to, number eight."

As the 8th Capo– higher only for Tartaglia (10th) and the 9th– you were looked down on by the rest of the Harbingers. Had the 1st rank not been filled by a fellow Khaenri'ahn, Archons know how mistreated you would've been. 

"I have a firm grasp of my identity. Never have I shared your indecisiveness, number six." You spat. "What about you? Have you decided on whether or not you're human yet?"

Everyone knows that Scaramouche may not even be human, but no one would open that can of worms other than you. 

He crossed his arms.

"Maybe after you figure out whose fault it was that your men died, you… or that fox?"

"SHHH!!!" Tartaglia shook his pointer finger near his lips. When he noticed you staring, he donned his best brotherly smile. "H-Hey (Y/n), what do you think about the rising inflation in Mondstadt City?"

Tartaglia actively avoided talks about the Innamorati Arson Incident. It's been days and he has not once brought it up. You recalled how when you first visited his manor, he asked about your experience in the church of Sumeru– and it was solely focused on what happened AFTER the incident. 

… Now that you think about it, he probably made those stupid jokes about Alhaitham that day because he didn't want you to look so grim.

"More problems with their funds, considering how most of it is all gone." The shorter man managed to still find a quip along the way. "Honestly, why are they even here? Shouldn't they go back to selling matchsticks by now?"

You visibly stiffened.

"Shut it, Scaramouche." Arlecchino interjected with a sympathetic yet mildly condescending outlook. "They're still a Capo through and through, even if they're past their prime."

Prime.

That's how they referred to the Dottore who had never taken a dose of canned knowledge. The youthful and composed Dottore you were once friends with.

You've always dealt with the very murky morality of your line of work by contrasting the transgressions of your coworkers. At least you went through rehab and detox when you were hooked on heroin. Meanwhile, he hasn't done anything other than feed his addiction. Truly, Zandik is fortunate to receive a wage that exceeds his necessities.

You and a monster like him are not so different, not anymore. He is no longer human; instead, he is a corpse that runs back home covered in more scrapes than on his previous visit. As for you? Well…

Batting your eyes, you scoffed breathlessly. Are you really past your prime? Words failed to come up when you tried thinking of a retort, and perhaps that was for the best.

Finally, the man of the hour entered the room. 

Like many Khaenri'ahn kids, you formerly held Pierro in high regard. He was the gleam of hope that even impoverished and orphaned immigrants might change the tides, even if it was in a world other than their home country. For most, he's the one who would nod his head upward. Pierro, the first Khaenri'ahn Capo, was the hero in the eyes of your younger self who lived off thanks to the table scraps of your even younger foster siblings. Tsaritsa knows you fumbled on your first meeting, and you were proud that was the only time you embarrassed yourself in front of him.

Considering how things are now, it certainly wasn't the case.

Pierro took a proud stance and showed no remorse for what had happened to you. His gaze veered in your direction. At that very moment, if you had been blinking, you would have missed the disappointed expression on his face. He promptly rotated the whiteboard after removing his sheets from his folders.

You stood up. "Lord Pier–"

"Let's start."

You sat back down again.

The entire meeting was a blur. You felt like you weren't there the entire time. Arlecchino eagerly chatted about her child soldiers whilst the other occasionally quipped a word or two. When her turn was done, it was Scaramouche, then Capitano, then Tartaglia– not once had the bottle turned to face you. The reason behind that is simple:

Pierro did not plan to call you, Number 8th, during any of his discussions. 

—---

The meeting was adjourned, but far from over. Just as you were about to head to the cathedral, a lithe hand pulled your coat sleeve, stopping you from reaching the front gates. 

You sighed, looking at their perfect doll-like fingers, there's no one else it could be other than…

"Shylock businesses aren't my style– ask Tartaglia instead." 

"You know damn well that's not what I'm gonna ask, Brighella?" 

"Then what is it, Kunikuzushi?"

He flushed red at your venomous retort.

Neither of you liked those names– unlike you, who dislike your Harbinger title purely because it sounds stupid– Scaramouche doesn't like hearing his baptismal name out of family reasons. Guess who's the more insecure one between the both of you.

"Are… Are you al– tch. Forget it." He paused before he scoffed and pointed his finger accusingly. Scaramouche grumbled. "I invested a lot of money in your casino project, so there better be some results!"

You nodded, barely paying attention to his tirades. His infantile behavior was never endearing to you; you either find it repulsive or boring. With the weighing pressure on your mental state, you were quick to chuck his new burlesque anger as mind-numbingly monotonous this time.

"Sure."

"Sure? Sure what, worm?"

"The Casino is not affected– the men who handled it are all alive. Zero casualties."

Unless you count Dimitri who used to manage the Casino in his spare time.

"That's good to hear." Surprisingly, he sounded genuinely relieved for what felt like their safety rather than financial compensation.

"Agreed. Are we done here?" 

His grip on your sleeve tightened.

"One final thing." Scaramouche leaned closer. "Use caution. Tighnari had likely received divine favors."

"Maybe you're stupid or you just don't care, but my devotion to Gnosticism is just a front. I appreciate your concern, though."

"I wasn't concerned. Just can't have my idiotic colleague underestimate what the divine can do." He smirked. "Can't have you burning another property you don't deserve."

You yanked your sleeve away.

Heartless puppet. 

"Goodbye, Balladeer."

—----

[Morning, 3 AM:]

With Felix trailing behind you (Alhaitham was in his Akademiya job), you both entered the church searching for Sister Rosaria.

The stained glass of the church had recently been updated. No one was surprised when disciples started taking away any hydro-related emblems from all northern churches. Even if those pieces of art are incredibly captivating, the fascists had already started utilizing them as a sign of movement, thus they are deemed not worth saving for future generations.

"Since when did they begin removing those things?"

"Since yesterday," Felix said with bags under his eyes. It's clear to you that he genuinely didn't want to be here. "Under Architect Kaveh's orders."

"I see. Go get some rest, Felix. There are surely some empty rooms in the convent."

"Thank you, Capo."

You let him leave.

Should you die today, you've already written a will that Felix will be the one to inherit your position. You'll let him have his quite-possibly-last good sleep before the Capo life keeps him busy. 

You stared back at the glass. 

In a way, architect Kaveh was similar to Alhaitham in that you were familiar with their names but not their faces. Even though he is consistently the first to offer to assist you with construction, this man always finds a way to decline your requests for an audience. The last time it was because he caught boar fever (how? ), but that was nothing compared to the time he wrote you a disorganized handwritten letter about how an Akademiyan spy sabotaged his clothes after breaking into his home and harassing him to gain confidential information.

... At least he has extraordinary talent. You can excuse any eccentric traits as long as a person's value outweighs the costs. That is the same reasoning you employed when you hired Alhaitham.

"(Y/n), is it true that you're going to find Tighnari?"

That voice couldn't be anyone else but your little fratella.

You were about to answer with a firm "yes", but when you turned around you felt a pang of guilt seeing how troubled she looked. Her hands gripped the hem of her dress in a suffocating hold and her eyebrows were knitted together.

"In Sumeru City? Of all places?" Barbara scurried and hugged your arm. 

"Don't go. Please."

[CHOSE: REASSURE BARBARA]

"Mia sorella, don't worry…" you cooed and soothingly lowered your gaze before bluffing. "Sumeru City's a lot safer nowadays. Alhaitham told me so."

[DID NOT CHOOSE: SAY "GOODBYE"]

[FAILED TO UNLOCK CHANCE FOR SECRET ROUTE: "MUSICIAN VENTI"]

"No…" Barbara stiffened and tore herself away. She clenched her fist, but everything else about her was calm and resolved. 

Barbara looks exactly like you when she's mad. She mimicked your traits so perfectly.

"No. You're lying. I heard Sister Rosaria talk to Inquisitor Cyno– it's not safe there."

"Barbara…" You traced your thumbs against her cheek. Her heartfelt display of anger almost successfully beseech you to reconsider. She slapped your hand away, but you kept talking. "I have to go."

“No. No, you don't– don’t be prideful! At least bring some of your men with you.” Barbara argued. 

You can’t. Some are stationed to help with church work while others are with Visconti Diluc. You purposely made them preoccupied so that they won’t put themselves in danger (like you.) Besides Tartaglia, there’s no other Capo who loves their people more than you– and perhaps this overprotective nature will be your cause of death, but so be it.

“Sister Rosaria will tag along. I'll be back soon– like I always do." You scooted closer to her, bending your knees a bit. With an unnoticeably forced chuckle, you shook her slightly. "C'mon, it's me, your very cool older Capo sibling. Don't you have faith in me?"

"I-I…" 

There are two things that can convince a pure-minded individual like her who has been sheltered from harm: a prayer and a cheerful smile.

"If you're worried about me, why don't you pray for my safe return?"

And you know damn those are the only thing that helps Barbara keep moving forward– the two things that help keep her sanity intact or else she'll break down. Religion is her sole solace. Despite living in poverty, she wouldn't sin. She's "used to hunger", that's just the type of person she was. Without prayers and smiles, nothing can help Barbara forget how her real biological sister left her in this chapel.

"Can you do that for me, sorella?"

Barbara paused. 

Snezhnayan men are the most religious. The people of Mondstadt nor Sumeru couldn't possibly compare with how Snezhnaya rears their impressionable children. Barbara was raised in this chapel and Snezhnayan culture ran deep in her veins.

“F-Fine.” Barbara sighed. “I’ll pray for you.”

You ruffled her hair.

“Grazie, sorella.”

—----

After reassuring Barbara that you will be safe and praying to an archon you don’t believe in, you slithered behind the church. 

"You watched everything earlier, I presume?"

Inquisitor Cyno didn’t move a muscle from his position. He was leaning by the wall, staring at the church cemetery. Still, he cracked up a small yet wholesome smile. He seemed pleased by your response.

[AFFECTION METER: 39.05%]

"It's in my job description."

You smiled sweetly. "Forgive my sins, Inquisitor, I forgot you were a professional stalker."

"Not stalking; I'm monitoring you."

"What's the difference?"

"Stalking has a more sinister connotation."

"Oh, then forgive me, your holiness." You theatrically bowed.

Cyno nodded. "You are forgiven."

You laughed loudly.

The inquisitor innocently raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. His pup-like demeanor shut you up. Apparently, that response wasn't a joke. Ex-priest Cyno wholeheartedly forgave you in a religious fashion.

Why is he only hilarious when he's not trying to be?

You cleared your throat. "My apologies, I suddenly remembered a joke, that's all."

"Would you mind sharing?" Cyno asked. "I want to find new comedy material. My previous jokes didn't seem to work."

You were about to cut it straight that he's the joke but ultimately decided to keep your mouth shut. 'You mean 'ALL your jokes don't seem to work.'' is what you wanted to say, but kindness is not the absence of mean-spiritedness. It is when you are restricting such actions.

“I don’t think you’d find it funny.”

“Is it an inside joke?”

How very kind of him to offer you a way out of this one.

“Something like that.”

“Then I won’t ask.” The Inquisitor nodded. "But there’s something else I want to request. Won’t you allow me to join you–"

"No."

[CHOSE: DO NOT INVITE INQUISITOR CYNO]

[AFFECTION METER: 25.00%]

Cyno paused.

You cannot allow him to join. Since you observed how the inquisitor and your new underboss interacted, you had a feeling that Cyno's presence would cause more issues than they would solve. He knew Tighnari well. He might even kill him before you do if he is provoked. Besides, it's not as though any sane man would hold an Inquisitor captive if given the chance; that would be like trying to wrestle an alligator to scare a dog.

Plus, you want to exploit Cyno and Tighnari's previous friendship against him. The safest course of action is to bluff and say you'll kill Cyno should that bastard try anything funny.

“Why not?”

“I hate to impose or be more indebted to you, Inquisitor. My conscience will not allow it.”

Cyno frowned.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to rely on others, Capo.”

“How very strange that I’ll hear that coming from you,” You said. “I know it is not my place to say this, but I’ve done my research and found out that you fulfill your duties alone. Candace kindly told me that you’ve always been a lone wolf, so I can’t say I’m persuaded by your advice.”

“Hmm. Understandable.” That’s all he could say. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You held his hand. He flinched, both shoulders tensed up like a shocked cat.

Your hands weren’t warm. They were cold. But as a desert dweller his hands oddly fit well with yours– a perfect balance. Unlike you, however, he had never used these hands to do evil. The Inquisitor silently wondered how would it feel like if these fingers wrung his neck–

Cyno closed his eyes. 

He cannot think of such sinful thoughts.

“Please relax, Inquisitor.” You spoke, circling the back of his palm. “I know what I’m doing.”

Should those words be the whole truth, then you must know unsavory your actions must be behind the pretense of kindness.

You debaucher.

“Do you now…”

You grinned.

That effectively made his heart skip a beat.

Cyno doubts you somehow knew about your hold on him.

“Hmm!”

“Fine. Then I’ll let you be.”

—----

He shouldn’t do this.

He’s worried. The Inquisitor did work with the spy before–

But Cyno doesn’t trust Alhaitham.

Cyno handed the disciple a dagger.

Alhaitham is calculating and most of all selfish. This was the man who actively disobeyed the church’s teachings unapologetically. Perhaps such behavior is cultured in the Akademiya but Cyno cannot stand it. 

Maybe that's why he tried stopping himself first, but after that fire…

Cyno's overprotective nature worsened.

He convinced himself that this feeling was a product of his past losses and argues that this is just a precaution. The Goddess has given him a second person to watch over. A second Usir. A new blessing to make up for his past transgressions.

And he will not waste this second chance.

"Take this. And do not forget my orders."

—---

[Morning, 4 AM]

Towering dome buildings, abundance of trees yet eerily silent streets– Sumeru City was not a tourist spot for amusement. 

Considering these facts, Dunyarzard, in all her former glory, still built a large theater underground called The Zubayr Theater. She had the intention of making the city a more joyous location with her contributions, and it's sad to see that it had done little to brighten up its citizens. Then again, Dunyarzard probably won’t be bothered by this if she lived longer.

You would know this because she was once your friend too.

Dunyarzard...

It’s a shame an invasive fox is hiding inside her paradise-on-earth. 

That, and a troublesome dog too.

You glanced at Alhaitham. He behaved strangely the entire time, glancing at his watch as if he were counting his seconds down. Soon enough, he walked closer and tapped your shoulder.

"(N/n)."

Assuming this is about the akasha terminal he let you borrow, you let him talk. "Go on, speak."

[AFFECTION METER: 28.00%]

"Tuqburni."

"… what?"

"Means you bury me in Sumeru," Alhaitham said, looking away sheepishly. "I decided it'd be best if you heard it again, even if Cyno isn’t here."

Is he trying to imply that an Inquisitor would care enough to kill him? Please. He’s an insignificant cog in the grand scheme of things. If he’s so sure you’ll lead him to his death then he should just quit. Go back to being an Akademiyan spy, it’s not that hard.

"Good to know." You'll forget about that word in ten minutes, tops.

He pursed his lips, troubled. "You don't remember what Tuqburni means?"

"Can't remember something I never learned."

Alhaitham frowned.

"I see…"

Sister Rosaria swerved her way between you two before pushing Alhaitham away with little force. "Take a hike. We don't have time to entertain you, underboss."

His nose scrunched. "Sister Rosaria, age 25. Weight 80kg, height 5'9, address–"

"Yeah, no shit I know where I live, so what?" The nun retorted. "Think you can take me on with your calculator, kid?"

You snorted.

"I'm not trying to intimidate you," Alhaitham spoke. "I'm letting you know that–"

"Whatever." Rosaria clicked her tongue. "Capo, what're your orders?"

Thank the Tsaritsa that Rosaria is here.

“We’ll split.” You pointed at the theater. “There are three main sections in Zabayr.”

You handed Rosaria a map. Alhaitham didn’t ask for a copy– he presumed that you already trust that he knew the location with the help of new technology. Instead, it was Rosaria who had a follow-up question.

“Where’s your copy, Capo?”

“They don’t need one,” Alhaitham answered. “They were here when the place was built– they helped Lady Dunyarzard build her dream theater.”

“I didn’t issue any orders for you to speak.” You glared. “Know where you stand, underboss.”

You cleared your throat. "As I was saying, we'll split up. I'll scout the theater, Rosaria outside the buildings, and you're on the apex building. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Of course."

—----

Despite saying "of course" confidently, Alhaitham found himself in a small library. 

This was likely NOT the place you ordered him to find, but the wealth of information stored around here was relevant to your investigation. Why? Because these were records haphazardly left by the fascists.

Their intel was right. The theater was one of their headquarters.

"These runes…" His eyebrows furrowed. “‘A tool that can only be used if the wielder upholds absolute justice above all else and would sacrifice the means for a satisfactory end.’ None of these descriptors match the Akademiya’s records at all, except...”

Alhaitham's eyes widened. 

This specific piece of information corroborates how Tighnari behaved thus far.

"However, if the Archons live with us and not Celestia then isn't it possible that Focalor is–"

His fingernails dug into the papyrus while his eyes frantically skimmed through its contents. If the contents of this papyrus were true, then what the hell was that collaboration between La Signora and the Adepti about? What the hell did they exchange?

Alhaitham heard the sound of breathing.

He turned around and turned on his terminal, hoping to reach you before the assailant stops him.

"(N/n), be careful! Whatever Tighnari's holding, that's a gn–"

[SHUTTING DOWN…]

—---

The Akasha Terminal buzzed, the signal muffling its voice. You surmise that this was caused by the theater's layout. The architect of the Zubayr Theater– which is funny enough, still Kaveh– specifically chose this location for its lack of noise. That being said, it would be nice to watch an actual play here now that Alhaitham wouldn't bother you with his senseless blather. Pity that no one's performing.

"… B… c…ful! Wh….. na… ri…ho…."

"T…s … ...sis!" 

You shook your head and nonchalantly thought out loud.

"The terminal must be acting up." 

There's no one there to accompany you in your confrontation with Tighnari should you encounter him, and you preferred it this way. 

You opened the door to the main stage.

And you finally found him.

You spotted the back of his silhouette lingering on the theater’s second floor. Props were crushed and some built-in chairs were knocked over. Whoever wreaked havoc around Dunyarzard’s theater had to pay– but that isn’t your main priority. Your target is already right here.

The professor no longer wore his cotton dark caramel coat– instead, he replaced it with a blander yet bolder black one that made his figure look larger. His eyes were vacant, looking forward as if a person would warp from near the ceiling. The bastard appeared to be waiting for someone.

Someone that isn’t you.

"Hello, professor."

A chill shot down his spine as his eyes met yours. Tighnari looked down, seeing you stare at him with a small smile. There was malice behind your peaceful expression. He made indescribable noises when he took a step back. No one else was in the vicinity except for the two of you, but his thoughts screamed that there was nowhere else to run. Tighnari knew that look was nothing he had ever seen before– a look of pity and anger reserved only for a dead man walking.

He sensed bloodlust, and it was consumingly relentless.

"It's been a while. Mind if I bother you outside office hours?"

Tighnari's hands were trembling but the rest of his limbs were frozen. He couldn't completely deny the possibility that he could die at this very moment. After all, he had seen your agility wipe out an entire floor of men with two dull daggers. If that was lazily done to protect him, he can only imagine the full extent of your abilities. On the bright side, at least you were below him and he could sprint somewhere– he just didn’t know where that is.

When you go on a hunt, you don’t stop until you catch your prey.

The professor knows that damn well.

"N-No," Tighnari answered with false confidence. "No, I don't."

"Can I ask a few questions, then?"

Your way of speaking contradicts whatever thoughts you both had in mind. Your voice inflection bounced off lightly, but the air shifted as soon as you traced your holster.

He didn't reply, and you took that as a yes.

[FREE TALK EVENT: START]

[READER REPLIES MARKED IN RED]

"Why." 

It came out more like a general statement than a question, so you repeated it with added conviction. You're not a static force. You're here because you willed it– you're here to satisfy your demands. Your lust for revenge.

"Why did you do it? Why did you burn my manor?"

Like a grim reaper appeasing their curiosity, you spoke calmly while simultaneously patronizing his inconsequential life.

Tighnari bit his lip. "You already know why–"

"But I need the confirmation, the closure. Any reason to make your death tenfold more satisfying." 

"I did it so that you'd get your cure."

Your eyes squinted.

Of course he did. You don't doubt him. You've known his obsession with Eleazar and how he rightfully suspected that you're burdened by this illness. 

But he took the whole truth and poured some out.

"That still doesn’t make sense, Professor Tighnari."

He took a sharp yet deep breath. Tighnari's treading on thin ice. He was scared not just for his life. He was scared that this would be his final moment when he had yet to give you what you needed. 

"I had to–"

"Surely the cure for Eleazar doesn't involve mass murder."

You were remarkably calm. As opposed to your uncharacteristically feral actions during the previous few days, this argument was entirely typical of you. Strategic and reserved, but ready to unleash everything in a single strike. 

"I…" Tighnari bit his cheek. He sighed exasperatedly. "Just. Just trust me for once, Capo–"

"Don't call me that." You tensed up. "You lost the right to call me Capo the moment you betrayed your familia. How can I trust you when I don't forgive you? Why trouble yourself so much when you can rip my head off my shoulders right now? I'm just another body between you and your precious cure, correct?" 

He almost didn't notice how you threw a dagger mid-talk like pelting a mere pebble. Tighnari dodged it, albeit barely, and you calculated as much. You won't let him die until he hears everything.

You spat lowly. "You snuffed the lives out of the only people that mattered to me." 

"Please don't be mad. I had to–" Tighnari spilled. "I had to or else Focalor wouldn't help me."

"How the fuck can I not be mad? You're a fox, I'm sure you can smell the hatred I have for you. Your olfactory system is sensitive, after all." You masterfully kept your voice calm despite the severity of your words.

"Your associates are such idiotic bastards then if they have to kill my men for a cure." Your eyebrows furrowed. "Where is it? Where the fuck is the correlation, Professor?"

"It's to prove my loyalt–"

"The only thing you've proven is that you're a piece of shit. Is this what fascism is about? I can't see why you'd ever want to be one."

Tighnari looked down and muttered something you didn't hear.

"Who said I wanted this to happen?"

You continued. "I know I was only spared because I was in the chapel– so take out your gun so we can settle this already."

You fired a warning shot, this time with a bullet and not a dagger, burying another close call between his tall ears.

There were so many things to worry about, but Tighnari relied on hopeless dialogue. It's the only tool he has left to de-escalate the situation.

Unfortunately for him, you're better with words.

"I don't want to kill you."

"Teppei."

"... What?"

"Lyudochka, Kazari, Bao'er, Viktor… " You cocked your gun. "Lindhart. Did you regret killing them?"

"Capo, I know what you're trying to do."

"You should or else we'd both look stupid."

"But saying their names won't change my mind. I've already decided that they're replaceable as friends."

Replaceable?!

"You bastardo–"

You fired a second shot– it missed. With a bit of spite, you aimed higher knowing that he'd evade. You didn't repeat the same mistake.

He ducked behind the second-floor barrier.

But didn't take its spiral pillar designs into account, and the gaps were exactly where you aimed at.

"GAH–"

His guttural scream echoed across the theater.

You shot him in the leg.

Whoever designed that barrier had great tastes– you'll thank the architect for this later.

It'd be so easy to just kill him now.

"Your fur will look better draped around my shoulders, Vulpes." You aimed with Tartaglia's revolver. "It's winter, is it not? Don't worry, I'll put it to good use."

The most significant thing he would do with his life is dying.

Lucky for him, you can’t grant him that just yet.

You still have hope. 

You still believe that there’s a way to get rid of Eleazar.

And as much as you hate it, you also believe in Tighnari.

Rather, you believe in his abilities and nothing more.

With the "goodness" in your heart, you’ll let him finish what he started.

"But I’ll suffer through the winter for now. That cure is the only thing keeping you alive. The day you finish your research will be the day I finish you. After that, I’ll make sure to kill every last person you hold dear."

Tighnari huffed self-deprecatingly, clinging onto his wounded leg by the theater's second floor. gazing at you with a melancholic stare. "Jokes on you (Y/n), there's no one else but y–"

"Cyno. Collei."

His eyes widened.

You smirked jadedly. "I had Inquisitor Cyno keep her in our custody. Did you know that pain is heightened ten times more for those of us suffering from Eleazar?"

You traced your old battle scars. They were all healed, but their numbers will keep multiplying.

Each time you pinch, no matter how dated these may be, it's as painful as yesterday's wounds. Nothing prepared you when you were diagnosed with Eleazar. Each wound, each papercut– the pain clings onto you like a leech that can never be scrubbed out, or else it'll cling tighter. 

"It's excruciating. That's why I was addicted to heroin– it numbs everything. Have you heard? Children are more vulnerable when it comes to drug addiction–"

"Don't." He faltered, lowering his gun. "Please. Don't touch them."

Bullseye.

Them. He used the word “them” instead of “her.” Despite Cyno’s impression, the fox still cares about him.

Maybe you should’ve invited Cyno to tag along.

You tilted the revolver sideways. 

You want him to inflict even more pain.

If Cyno were here, you would’ve made sure he said all the wrong things and watched Tighnari squirm. After all, you do have the uncanny ability to get people to behave in the way you want them to, don’t you?

"Then parry this."

But you didn’t pull the trigger.

Surprisingly, Tighnari bravely climbed up and hung his leg by the barrier, making him more susceptible if you attacked. You can’t tell if you hesitated or you’re curious as to what he’s trying to accomplish– the second floor was meters high above your station– he’ll surely die if he jumped.

Sister Rosaria emerged from your peripheral vision, ragged and stripped of breath. It's a long way from the main theater to the bazaar– she ran when she heard your argument as soon as possible.

Tighnari fished something out of his pocket.

A blue light shimmered in what appeared to be a chess bishop.

… What kind of trick is this? 

"Tighnari, what the hell are you holding?" Your nose scrunched, squinting at the small piece. You could've sworn you've seen that symbol somewhere– in large glass-stained imageries.

"Can't you see?" Tighnari croaked, angrily crying out in a desperate attempt to make deaf men such as yourself hear. "Focalor is the Hydro Archon– there's no better healer than her if you would just allow us to help you find a cure."

His eyes… Whatever it is you’ve said, it had its impact.

Tighnari lost his mind.

Sister Rosaria's breath hitched. Fortunately for both of you, she understood the situation.

"CAPO, GET BEHIND ME–"

"This is the Hydro Archon's gnosis," Tighnari yelled. "I'll prove to you– I'll show you that all those sacrifices were worth every drop of blood I had to spill. Maybe I haven't figured out how to heal with it now but destroying things has always been easier than fixing them!"

Gnosis?

What the fuck is he talking about?

Like the 7 gnosis the Tsaritsa collected?

That bedtime story?

"Fox, where on earth did you get that?!" Sister Rosaria pushed you near the exit door, mediating the argument. "Where did you steal that divine artifact?!"

"Dear sister…" Tighnari chuckled darkly. 

"If there's a will, there's a way."

He raised the chess piece to the sky. 

"I'm sorry Capo– but this I swear: I never betrayed you." He spoke softly while his ears lowered. "Open your eyes– everything I do is all for your health and wellbeing. This little thing right here is worth more than your men. Easier to do things first before apologizing later, that's what you told me last time, right?"

"Fuck off." You didn't take a step forward. In this instance, Rosaria would handle this better than you could. "Take a swim in the river Cocytus for all I care– but don't you fucking dare dedicate that slaughter under my name."

[FREE TALK EVENT: END]

Tighnari grinned emptily.

[AFFECTION METER: ERROR.]

[AKASHA TERMINAL STATUS: DISABLED]

“I’ll never know.” He spoke softly. “I’ll never know why I like you so much. At this rate, I’m too afraid to find out.”

His hold on the “gnosis” tightened.

The bishop piece beamed.

“Farewell, my Capo.”

—-----

[6 years ago]

Alhaitham lived a monotonous life.

The same old nine-to-five schedule: wash up, dress up, eat, work, eat, sleep, and repeat the following day. When compared to his former self, he had a professional short haircut and was dressed in white dress shirts that were buttoned up. Alhaitham has the appearance of a plastic toy. Too typical and bland. Nothing exuded uniqueness.

He thought he got what he wanted. Alhaitham graduated and became an accountant, just like what he aimed for for years. As a child, he grew up under the misconception that he had something special. Alhaitham was the boy every parent preached about when their lackluster children produced little results. Maybe he was the smart kid everyone loathed– but his repertoire was genuine. The world handed him an easy-to-follow script, and he mindlessly fulfilled it with his innate abilities.

But for goodness' sake, if this is what success is, then why is it so empty?

His purpose in living had turned into nothing more than a bank's problem fixer until he returns to doing what he loved most:

Nothing.

What the hell is life boring him for?

"Tired of life, tesoro?"

Alhaitham looked up.

He saw an underdressed person wearing a white tattered shirt and lousily safety-pinned flip-flops. Had they worn white instead, they would be easily mistaken as a hospital escapee. 

More specifically, they looked like they just got out of the heroin rehabilitation center just a few blocks down the street.

Alhaitham didn't send them away. They had a sparkle in their eyes, something that he lacked nowadays. However, there's something about it that made it more noteworthy compared to civilians around here.

Those pupils are (e/c) Khaenri'ahn eyes.

A natural trait, but its presence alludes to artificial happiness in the same manner endomorphs appear friendly and kind. No matter how lifeless a Khaenri'ahn may be, the gem in their eyes will always make them look more alive than the rest of the world.

They covered their mouth.

"Oh, pardon. I can't help but ask. You're rather down and I thought you needed a distraction..." 

They didn't seem all that sorry when they immediately sat down beside him after that apology.

"Incorrect." He bluffed. "What makes you assume that?"

They smiled.

"I dare say you look like you've achieved everything you thought you wanted in life, but you're still feeling empty inside, aren't you?"

Alhaitham's head snapped back in their direction.

"What do you mean?"

"You work for the Banco Di Snezhnaya, around age 23, have a wage of 500 thousand mora per week," they chuckled, gesturing at his hair. "Aaand you probably don't own a hair dryer."

Stalkerish-ly spot on.

"How did you–" He clicked his tongue, disappointed at himself for becoming immersed in parlor tricks. "Nevermind. I'm not buying into whatever astrology thingamajig you're selling."

"Oh please, the only thing I'm selling are matchsticks. Hair dryers ain't astrology, ya dumbass, they're a new Fontaine invention." They huffed. "If my matchsticks could tell the future I would've achieved my dreams by now."

Alhaitham still can't phantom why, but he's oddly intrigued by whatever came out of their mouth.

"And your dreams are?"

"I want to become a journalist." They said, softly knocking their chest with a closed fist. "Future Teyvat Times journalist. The best of the best."

"Unlikely." Alhaitham muffled his laughter. Unlike most people, he can regulate his emotions masterfully well. "Someone like you who obviously achieved no real education? Give up on that dream while you're still ahead."

"Yikes. Already sizing up my intellectual capacity? That's rude."

"I'll see your dreams if it happens." He continued. "But it's my turn to guess things about you– you're a heroin addict who just got out of rehab and now you're stuck doing community service by selling matchsticks. Not only are you uneducated, but you also have a drug record so say goodbye to any stable employment."

They smirked. They were right– he's not the type to hold his tongue. That just makes him a better conversationalist.

"Close, but no dice." They snapped their fingers, pretending to be saddened by his faulty inference. "EX-heroin addict. I got out of rehab a year ago and I'm not selling matchsticks because of community service– that sure sounds better than the actual truth, though."

He'd rather they communicate properly with little subtext and implications. Alhaitham sighed. "Alright, fine. I'm hooked, what's the truth?"

"Don't tell me you can't tell." They raised an eyebrow before they pried their left eye open, showing off their unique pupil. "I'm an immigrant, so of course finding a job is as easy as becoming the seventh archon, ragazzo."

Their butchering of the Snezhnayan language further cemented that they're not from here.

"I didn't get any quote-unquote "real" education, but living on the streets? You'd be caught dead if you're not skilled at inferences." They said grimly, but the smile on their face never left. "That's why I know how to spot a person easily. I know a guilty murderer when I see one, and I know an unsatisfied man once I look down on him sulking by the fountain."

"Right. I forgot you're Khaenri'ahn." Alhaitham muttered.

"Well, then you must be the first person to do so. That's literally what everyone points out after looking at my eyes. Congratulations." They snickered. 

"Why am I even talking to someone as arrogant as you?"

"I may be arrogant, but you're a lot happier now that I'm here, aren't you?"

Alhaitham froze.

"See? I'm pretty good at swaying people into behaving the way I want them to."

"What's your goal exactly?" Alhaitham pulled out his wallet. "Need me to buy a pack of cigars? I'm not funding your addiction."

He said that but he already took out 150 bills.

"Nah. That sounds great though but I was just trying to practice my conversation skills." They sheepishly told him. "I want to practice speaking Snezhnayan, and also cause I want to seem friendly."

"'Seem' friendly?"

They laughed. "Well, we all have secrets, don't we? There's something powerful about being charismatic yet setting boundaries all the same. Master both and you might just get somewhere."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alhaitham grunted.

"We've been talking for a while now– I'm (N/n), and yours?"

"That's…"

Alhaitham subconsciously glanced around. 

Morepesok was not one of Teyvat's safest plazas. And they look Khaenri'ahn in the worst place possible, not that anyone besides him would appreciate that. Drugs are prevalent but it's not the only social cancer in the plaza. Petty thievery, human trafficking, money laundering, the list is bottomless and in no small thanks to the syndicates. Immigrants especially get a bad rep around here as either helpless victims or eager puppets, so forgive him for exercising caution based on generalizations.

They cringed. "Ah, right. Don't worry– no need to spill your real name, just give me something I can call you."

He paused.

"... Deshret."

"Well, well, nice to meet you Deshret. Is that from The Scarlet King's Court Jester?"

"Nevermind. Let's just change it to–"

"No no no! It's perfect." They said. "Very underrated bedtime story. The kids loved it… even though it was pretty dark and abusive."

"Many say it's a real tale."

"Do you believe that?"

It was also his favorite story as a child. 

"Yes."

"Heh. I don't, but I don't want to make little Kaeya cry." They laughed. "As you can probably tell, I'm Khaenri'ahn, and we just don't have all these strange cultural beliefs you people have…"

They gazed down his thighs. 

"Hey Deshret, isn't sitting with your legs together uncomfortable? Go on, cross your legs, or whatever. I don't mind."

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow before he slowly did what he was told. It's been a while since he sat this way. He trained himself to stop since it wasn't appropriate in the office, and somehow he forgot he could still do it outside work.

He relaxed. The change in posture was effective.

"... You're creepily perceptive."

"As I said, gotta be more observant." They chuckled. "Being liked is key to survival–"

Out of the blue, a loud metallic thud reverberated around the plaza. The both of them flinched at the sound and everyone turned their heads to its source.

"Hey, isn't that Adepti Underboss, Xiao?" They whispered.

The Adepti were incredibly busy that year. By June, a rat published a book entitled "Rex Incognito" where they detailed and provided evidence that Morax is the Geo Archon himself, which makes the piece both heretical AND entertaining.

The man, whom they both assumed was underboss Xiao, tossed a man upward till they landed on the roof of a nearby car. With his lithe yet muscular form, he swiftly disposed of a 70kg policeman like a garbage bag. No one moved a muscle in their direction. Not a single person showed empathy for the nose-bleeding cop in the middle of the plaza. The civilians pitied the car owner and not the injured man. Only children shrieked at the sound. For the rest? Just another Wednesday garbage cleanup.

There's no semblance of justice in Teyvat that remains in broad daylight.

Alhaitham closed his eyes, disappointed.

"Pathetic how the tri-mafia overpowers the military police in every way. The police are useless." 

"Yeah man, fuck the system."

"Fuck the system indeed." Alhaitham nodded solemnly. They nearly laughed at how strangely innocent the word 'fuck' sounds coming from him.

"Wanna know what we should do?"

"I genuinely don't."

"Let's join the mafia together."

Alhaitham snorted. It's funny how he considered himself a pro at regulating his emotions moments prior because now he couldn't hold back the cute little chuckles that betrayed his lips. His shoulders trembled as well as his hands while he composed himself.

That was the stupidest idea he had ever heard.

"W-What?" They asked mid-laughter as well, clearly not considering their own enthusiastic suggestion. "Don't think we can overthrow the government together? Tsk, tsk."

They look positively malnourished. Alhaitham would bet on the chance that they'd achieve their dream journalist career rather than a stable life as a future mafioso. 

Then again, Alhaitham looked very straight-laced and put-together before he joined Akademiya. 

"Ah yes, an accountant and a matchstick vendor joining the mafia together; one of them might even become the next leader. Find out next time in chapter 3."

"Coglione, I'm the one who's going to be a journalist here, not you."

"Not with that awful pronunciation you're not."

They frowned. "You Teyvatans are so strict with your stupid lingua francas."

"But still, it's not a bad idea, isn't it? Let's meet each other again after we join the mafia." They nudged his side. "Same time, same place. C'mon, it'd be funny if the next time we meet you'd be holding your head thinking that there's too much excitement in your life now."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes before he looked down at his watch.

"At 6 in the morning?" He looked rather amused for someone who claimed to be uninterested.

They bantered back with the same vigor. "6 AM sharp of course, tesoro."

Alhaitham chuckled. 

They laughed along with him. 

"Heh. Anyways, say, what's it like being an accountant?"

"Well…"

Since then, the two of them began meeting weekly as Deshret and (N/n). They've used their morning hours as an excuse to get drunk in the crack of dawn. Both have forgotten what the true purpose of that time was, 

But it's not as if they'd both remember that joke, right?

—---

Well, if that's true, then Alhaitham doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.

Something about that small conversation rekindled a fire in him– a torch he had never once touched for he saw no need for it. But after seeing how empty those cubicles were– how mechanical the bigger picture was– nothing had been the same for him. His conversations with coworkers were barely anything compared to what he shared with (N/n). Dialogues in the office were canned scripts, and they were oh-so-predictable.

And so that morning, he went up and quit his job before accepting the offer to be the Akademiya Syndicate's bookkeeper. 

But (N/n) was nowhere to be found in their usual spot. 

Not in the fountain– not in the old bar. 

Where the hell were they?

Alhaitham asked the people of Morepesok if they'd seen them, but these efforts were futile. Some were eager to point out that they know what's-their-name-s, but none led back to where they were. And the street urchins that were familiar with the name (N/n) assumed they'd departed the country and gone back to their homeland.

He refused to believe that. Passions quite like theirs do not burn out as easily as he did.

As a result, waiting in Morepesok for (N/n) in the hopes that they'll return has become a daily ritual. For the first few days, no one was eager to approach the new Akademiyan mafioso; instead, he would monitor the time with a feverish bloodlust. Even in Snezhnaya's harsh winters, he is frequently observed by numerous concerned bystanders who urge him to get inside because it is cold out. None of their worries stopped him. He saw waiting as a chance to relieve stress. These quiet moments remind him of his humble humanity, and he was grateful to have ever met (N/n) because of this.

Yet they never came back.

But Alhaitham never held it against them. It's alright.

Thanks to them, he lived the kind of life he never knew he dreamed of.

"6 AM sharp, huh?"

The more he hung around the square, the more people thought they understood him. They were under the impression that this immovable man was not on a syndicate mission– he was just a lovelorn yet patient man.

"But I doubt I'm far gone. I just appreciate them. That's all there is to it." These were the words that helped him sleep at night. But if the term "lovelorn" simply means "unrequited" then perhaps the way he feels while waiting for them to return fits the description.

He was still sitting upright by the fountain in Morepesok Plaza, waiting expectantly for (N/n) to return like a dog.

—----

And even now, he waited.

Until (Y/n), Capo of the Innamorati family, found him lying on the ground.

(N/n) didn't come.

"(Y/n)..." Rosaria whispered while her face grimaced at the pungent and metallic smell. You both observed the pool of blood on the ground.

You and Rosaria narrowly escaped the blast of whatever divine power Tighnari conjured– and you’re still processing what happened in the theatre that you couldn’t comprehend the body right in front of you. If Rosaria wasn’t there to lift you on her shoulders you would’ve stood and resigned to your fate. Thankfully, you weren’t wounded, but the bump you had on the seats when the water pressure pushed you back nearly gave you a concussion. 

In the end, you both came back for Alhaitham with soaked coats and socks, dripping from head to toe. Rosaria’s veil was discarded and left by the doorsteps as it was distractingly clinging to her skin– you would’ve done the same with your coat had it not been one of your favorite ones. Your cold and quivering limbs weep for respite but you remained steadfast. However, your mind does not share the same willpower. Your thoughts were slow but chaotic. 

Just how did Tighnari flood the underground theater earlier?

Was that really a gnosis?

Why did he have one? 

Where did Tighnari flee now?

You shook your head in an attempt to focus on what was in front of you.

Who attacked Alhaitham?

His neck is bleeding and there's a clean stab wound on his neck. The crimson trail trickled down to his exposed arm. With his back leaning on the wall and head facing down, Alhaitham did not move a muscle. You know little about Alhaitham but you did know one thing: he wanted to work with you far longer than your first guess. 

Suppose he’s underqualified to be an underboss, after all, failing his first (and last) mission like this. You once heard Pantalone say that "Akademiyan spies are the weakest species in Teyvat" and your new "underboss" proved that right by messing up the marble tiles with his blood.

The collar you were supposed to give him feels useless in your pocket.

Maybe you should've picked Enjou instead. That crazy maniac would survive better than him, and he's just a merchant in the Abyss Market you like to gossip with.

Alhaitham is pathetic. Was pathetic.

"One of those fascists likely killed your underboss," Rosaria said, sounding awful like she was reading from a script. "It seems that Tighnari will do anything to stop you from maintaining your position."

That's funny, cause the only way those shits can achieve that is by burying you alive– and they failed miserably– comically, even.

Did they seriously think you'd weep for Alhaitham?

For someone as “replaceable” as him, as Tighnari would put it?

You've said it once and you'll say it again: that's fucking hilarious. Tartaglia would love this story– you're sure. They've already taken your best friend Dimitri, everyone else is secondary. You love your men, but they know they can never be him. Hell, you'd argue that if the others were equally loved, Alhaitham would be "less equal" than the others. 

You didn't take a second look at Alhaitham, and not because you lack remorse. 

The real reason is too boring.

He's not dead. 

He's just unconscious.

Sadly no, that was not just the first stage of grief speaking. There's still some life left in him. He's nowhere near as cold as a corpse shouldn't be. Would've made your job a lot easier if he was, but he's still breathing, albeit shallow and excruciatingly so. However, that doesn't change the fact that he'll survive. All for one damn good reason–

Sister Rosaria was the one who attacked him.

The inquisitor must've left him like this hoping that fate will decide whether he lives or not, which means she was hesitant to kill him. In a way, your casual friendship with the nun saved your second underboss. This isn't your first rodeo– you've had good friends who tried to kill you once and vice versa, and it's nothing a visit to Angel's Share can't fix. Rosaria was merely a tool. Her feelings had nothing to do with this. It's a good thing your conversations with Sister Rosaria are never dull, you hate to imagine what you would've done to her otherwise.

Lucky bastards, both Alhaitham AND Sister Rosaria.  

Still, this meant that someone else ordered you to assassinate your underboss.

Someone from the church. The very same cathedral you swore fealty to and devoted half of your life's work on.

You laughed furiously.

"Hahahaha! I see!" 

Who the FUCK is the rat that tried to take what's YOURS?

You wrapped the scarf around his neck taut like a gauze and propped him upward. Alhaitham's weight leaned on your right side as you began lazily carrying him. It doesn't look like he'll wake up soon, so at least he wouldn't be bragging about getting carried by his boss.

Rosaria wore a stiff expression.

You both know the truth, and she's wholly aware you've pieced everything together. But you're not mad at her– any sister of Barbara is a familia to you. She's just following orders, and if what the church wanted was to frame Tighnari for this…

Then who's to say they haven't pinned someone else for any other crime?

But that's not what matters now– Alhaitham's situation is urgent compared to these half-baked conspiracies. 

"He lives." You said. "Don't worry Rosaria."

Neither of you addressed how you subtly forgave her.

She placed two fingers on his wrist. The nun sighed a little too relieved when she felt his pulse. 

"Good. Then we should go find help."

You smirked. "Oh, no need to worry. I know a medical professional nearby."

"Whoever it is you have in mind, you better make the right call, we're losing him." She spoke casually.

Neither of you showed any semblance of panic over a dying man.

Sister Rosaria, a child of the Archons, was more afraid of your fury than his stripping lifeline.

"Of course, Sister Rosaria."

In all honesty, he's by no means the "right call" for this scenario. But who else can you turn to,

other than Il Dottore himself?

—---

→ Common Route First Half Complete!!! ←

A/n: Did y'all think Alhaitham was going to die? Me too. Trust me, I'd give you guys a lot of chances to kill these three.

Btw, did some of their dialogue sound familiar? You're all very creative!!! I had to cut some responses off (I'm sorry.) because some were already similar while others currently don't fit the situation… But I hope some of you read it and went "oh, this is MY answer from the open-ended question (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)!!!" I want you all to feel like you're part of what builds Capo!Reader's personality! 

Same as usual, the underlined word (Il Dottore) leads to the polls. Have fun voting!!!

Deadline: TBA

Taglist, thank you all for reading "OC!MC!" ❤️: @scaranaris-lil-niko @ruru-senpai-is-an-infp @vienettacream @theglowfly @vermillionite @nasidibakar

[buckets-and-trees]

Hehe. 😇

This Mafia Bucky means business.

Now... Did you unknowingly tap into this image as exactly the Bucky I have tucked away on a story I've told no one about?

Maybe...

And because I'm feeling a little wild this Wednesday, WHY NOT LIFT SOMETHING OUT OF THE MESSY WIP AND PUT IT OUT THERE???

Working title for the AU is currently Shedding My Velvet...

Bucky turns to his head to the left, and Steve monitoring the security cameras and on comms with him, asks, "What do you see?"

“Green cardigan,” Bucky specifies.

To his credit, Steve doesn't let much of the smirk Bucky knows he must be smirking to bleed through his tone as he responds on the ear piece. "Got it. Running her through the database now."

One he takes his seat in the crowd, Bucky only glances back your way twice more before the boss of the Bronx finally shows up for their meeting.

Quill’s not late, they arranged to arrive at staggered times to draw less attention, but Bucky never likes to wait. Still, he chose to arrive first because he didn’t want Quill ahead of him in any way in any arena.

“Barnes,” the man says in greeting.

“Quill,” Bucky returns.

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to every time he sees this man in the dark red leather jacket he’s built into his identity.

Quill waits for Bucky to speak, but Bucky doesn’t. He’s not verbose by any means, and he knows it irks Quill, especially when Bucky forces him to speak first. So he waits in the silence waiting for Quill to push the conversation they've both come here to have forward.

“Tony says you’ll agree if I agree.”

“Yes," Bucky affirms.

“Well, I agree.”

Bucky nods. He doesn’t respect Peter Quill, but he has no professional qualms. He neither trusts nor mistrusts him, but he does know Quill is a man of his word, and he’s got a track record of reliability within the accords of The Five. Bucky told Tony as much, and that’s why they were sitting on this bench. If Bucky heard it with his own ears, it would be done. He’d still monitor with a healthy amount of skepticism as he always did, but that was modus operandi.

“Then we leave Queens to the kid.”

“Eighteen months,” Bucky states.

Bucky nods again. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve stand from his bench and leave.

“And you think Danvers will stay out of it?”

Bucky scoffs, and this time he does roll his eyes. “Come on, Quill, you know Danvers has made it clear she barely deigns to deal with us and only indulges the accords to make sure she can operate her own territory as if we don’t exist.”

“All right, all right, I was just getting your read on the situation.”

“You and I are ostensibly the wildcards.”

If there were to be a turf war over trying to expand the territory and take over Queens, it would be Manhattan, the Bronx, and Brooklyn who stood to gain. Tony had already stated he would maintain status quo. Tony and Ben hadn’t been in power, but they’d both been around when the accords of the five had been fought out, and they’d battled through the chaos before the lines were drawn. Tony and Ben were old school, and they’d respected each other when they both came into power, ascending around the same time.

They were quiet again, but in this moment, the impatience on Quill’s end for Bucky’s silences had been put on pause.

“He’s young,” he finally said.

Bucky shrugged. “So were we.”

“He’s too young,” Quill qualified. It wasn’t a criticism; it was said remorsefully.

Bucky sighed. “Maybe.”

Ben Parker had been clear that his nephew Peter would take over Queens, had been unquestionably preparing him to take over, but everyone expected it to be another ten years and retirement before Ben was out of the scene, not an ascension due to a brutal murder of the mob boss, killer still unknown and at large.

After a few moments, Quill speaks again. “We done here?”

Bucky nods. They both stand, shake hands, and then turn their backs on each other and depart. Bucky looks to Steve first, then his eyes flick to the now-empty table where you had been, and then back to Steve, who falls into step with him as they walk away from the meet.

“Quill agreed to the terms,” Bucky starts. “Eighteen months from the day of Ben’s funeral to let Peter Parker step in and establish his power in Queens.”

“We knew he would.”

They both slip into the back of the black SUV at the curb, and once they’re settled in, Bucky turns to Steve. “Now tell me what you really want to tell me. You’re hardly keeping the grin off your face.”

Steve then lets the smile break freely - but it's warm, not gloating. “As it is the first time you have ever had me look into the identity of a stranger you’ve developed a crush on at first sight, you can’t blame me for being incredibly happy about this.”

Bucky grunts.

“I’ve got preliminary findings for you from Joaquin,” he starts.

“Torres?” Bucky protests. “You put the new kid on this?”

“He is our intelligence guy. Who else would I put on it?”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“He’s younger than us,” Steve continues, “doesn’t make him a kid. We’re past the days when we were the young guys in this business. You’ve been nothing but impressed with him up to this point, and he’s coming up on a year with us.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“I already told him to keep this close to the chest. You, me, him – not even Sam.”

“Sam is the last person who gets to learn about anything like this.”

Steve laughs. “He’s already got her identity narrowed down to two possibilities and he’s confident he’ll have the full dossier ready to report by the time you come out of your meeting with Tony.”

[madhare0512]

A Comprehensive List of Spideyfist Interactions (pt.7)

Hello and welcome back to: reasons Spideyfist is canon. A series where I take you through each episode of The Ultimate Spiderman and show you why I believe that Peter Parker and Danny Rand are dating in canon, or at least that they are each other’s favorites- and also give you commentary on the show itself as I do

Warnings for: episode spoilers, season spoilers, action/injury description, unsolicited commentary, probable cussing, violence, caps lock

this part features episodes 14 through 20 of season 2

S2E14 The Incredible Spider-Hulk

- No notable interactions

- Fuck SHIELD and their bullshit Hulkbusters

~

S2E15 Ultimate Deadpool

- I'm not gonna lie to you, in the process of making this post, Tumblr glitched and I lost a lot of progress, this episode and the entire episode above. I'm not rewriting it, so the gist of the first 2 minutes is: I don't like that Deadpool just stole the show and the audience from Peter because Peter is "boring." I also don't like how Fury has set up the team against Peter.

- taking deep, calming breaths Shooting your ally/trainee in the back is akin to telling them that you cannot be trusted or relied on. Fuck Coulson.

- "Not impressed." Yeah, well, you shot your trainee in the back with zero warning or previous experience. Fuck you.

- Also, you can only hear Sam and Ava laughing in the laugh track, so honorable spideypowerfist mentions. Also counts to spideyfist

- You're showing your fucking favoritism you asshole. Do fucking better

- You are spraying it RIGHT IN HIS FACE

- "Somone explain. Now." Nova goes to explain "NOT Nova" Reason number whatever why I don't ship them

- If Peter replaced Deadpool in the show does that mean that Deadpool was the leader before Peter?

- Listen, I fucking love Deadpool in the movies and the comics, from what I've heard, are fucking superb. In this iteration? No. No, I hate him. I hate Deadpool and SHIELD in this show

- There is WAY too much emphasis on this alleged agent for me to believe a word Deadpool says.

- Peter is being singled out for training and it's disGUSTING

- There are no snitches among the Ultimates. Not today anyhow

- Deadpool is a liar and master of manipulation

- My poor dumb boy

- Okay, the more I rewatch, the more it becomes clear to me that Deadpool and Peter are supposed to be parallels or mirrors

- "I'll give you 1000 bucks for your brain!"

- "Sleep them with the fishes"

- "Nice of you to finally visit my school" Forshadowing~~~

- Okay I hate him but he's funny

- SEE? SEE???

- Deadpool is scary when he's actually trying

- "How about telling me the truth?"

- Deadpool's origin story is so wack

~

S2E16 Venom Bomb

~ Is this the-? looks at the episode number Oh, no. Not yet, I think.

- Saving the teammates like a boss!

- The nightmares Peter must have every time he faces the Goblin

- In the fight, Danny strikes after Peter, which counts

- Danny and Peter are standing RIGHT next to each other after a battle againnnn

- Peter WANTS to be able to take the win, but he knows his adversaries too damn well for that

- Hey, they're standing right next to each other again!

- Peter doing his best with Harry when he's Spiderman

- Ock just gets weirder and weirder looking the more time goes on

- They're gonna study the fucking symbiote but not try to find a cure for Osbourn?

- Infectious Venom disease!

- Goblin being absolutely AWFUL to Venom

- Where's the team in all this??

- One of the worst things you can do to Doc Ock's character is pretend he's evil for fun. This show doesn't do that, but the fact still stands

- And again I say, people forget that Peter is an accomplished chemist just the same as he's a wonderful hero

- Because you're Spiderman and Spiderman is a hero and you're a wonderful, selfless, brave person, Peter Parker

- Peter and Ock working together lmao

- Peter’s a goof, I love him

- At least Peter gets his damn props

~

S2E17 Guardians of the Galaxy

- Oh!! This episode indirectly has big evidence!!

- Peter using his abilities to shove garbage into the can

- PETER SEES A TALKING RACCOON AND ASSUMES HE LOST IT OMG

- Okay, so remember how in The Journey of Iron Fist, Peter follows Danny to his home country to find out what's going on and get Danny back? That's not exactly what's happening here. Peter was accidentally abducted in this one

- Peter was so fucking respectful and kind when regarding Danny’s home country and turf, but when it's Sam, he's snarky and complains the whole damn time

- Rocket is just so fucking casual about this

- See, even under attack, Peter is complaining about Sam getting him in trouble!

- Peter demands answers from Sam, he didn't do that with Danny, he was very calm and respectful when asking for answers with Danny

- Peter doesn't listen to a WORD Sam says ever, he's oblivious and not a good listener, reason number whatever why I ship what I ship

- It's literally only after he figures out Earth is a target that Peter decides to work with the Guardians

- Peter gives these "Ki-ya!" shouts that sound almost exactly like Danny’s

- This episode and The Jouney to K'un L'un are literally parallels

- Even if he doesn't LIKE Sam, Peter still considers Sam a friend, still loves Sam as a brother

- Peter didn't accept Danny going back to K'un L'un for a single second, but when Nova says he wants to stay with the Guardians, Peter accepts it without hesitation

- And then once Sam's back on Earth, Peter's right back to fucking with him like nothing ever happened

~

S2E18 The Parent Trap

- No notable interactions

-One of my favorite things that Luke does is he just fucking throws people for funzies. That's his whole thing, he THROWS people when he's fighting and needs to team up

- We're going through the team's backstories this season, which I think it's fun, and it's actually kinda funny

-Yes, Peter, 'parents' parents

-They're so fucking biased against Peter and it pisses me off

-I love the way these guys protect and look after each other, it's super cute and lovely

-See this is what happens when you start harping on your teenage heroes. They start ignoring you and don't listen when you try to offer important information

-Luke wanting a perfect reunion is so fucking relatable

-Spiderman only calls his friends by name on missions when it's important or in an emergency, the team members who know his identity don't call Peter by name unless off mission

~

S2E19 Stan By Me

-No notable interactions

~

S2E20 Game Over

-Danny talks about how fun the LMDs are and Peter immediately starts going into detail.

-I love that the team gets to go all out here

-Danny wants to retreat, Peter says "looks like we're gonna have to 'assess' with our fists" which I count because Peter's not the kind of guy to retreat even if it's deadly and he talks like he was going to agree

-Annd we're in a slow zoom (in the ready room lol) and Peter and Danny are sitting right next to each other

[woodchipp]

I'm gonna be honest - along with OMORI pressuring the player into choosing the good ending lest Sunny kills himself, the whole DUET cutscene doesn't strike me as anything but very blatant emotional manipulation either. Every mention of it I saw was followed by fans talking at length about how thoroughly devastated they were left by that moment, but if you look past the Feels and focus on the Reals, what is there to be devastated about, really?

The (supposed) purpose of the cutscene is to show Sunny placating his depression by recalling the good times he had with Mari and his friends... except that is exactly what he's been doing via Basil's photo album throughout the entire game. That's what Memory Lane, which you have to go through right before the final boss, was there for. And just like the aforementioned two, the good times showcased in DUET are glurgy, meaningless fluff. They don't tell you anything new about the characters and they don't show them helping each other through thick and thin as people you could call "real" friends are supposed to. The fact that the cutscene itself looks like a PowerPoint slideshow or something you could theoretically cook up in Windows Movie Maker doesn't help, especially if you remove the music track altogether.

I think one of my "favorite" moments is Sunny and Mari meeting Kel and Hero, which is represented by the latter two literally popping out of thin air

You'd think that as a story with the power of friendship as one of its central themes, the game would show how the characters became friends in the first place and what makes them gel together, but no. This is all you get.

It's the same thing with Aubrey and Basil. The gang meets Aubrey for the first time while she's crying on the sidewalk before the game cuts to her introducing Basil to them. Was them comforting Aubrey over her lost shoe enough for her to befriend them? How exactly did she and Basil meet? I dunno, you tell me! Think about the plot so the writer won't have to!

So emotional. So peak. Two hundred thousand dollars was spent on this.

Speaking of Sunny and Mari, the cutscene's Peakest™ moment is the smash cut from a bright shot of Mari embracing a younger Sunny to a gloomier shot of the older Sunny sitting there all alone and morose, which delivers the message with all the subtlety of a nuclear bomb explosion

she passed on The Emo to him. truely devastating. also why do they both look malnourished. what the hell is this artstyle

Yes, game. I get it. The grass was greener when Mari was alive. That's roughly her gravestone's epitaph. What is the point of this? What am I supposed to cry about?

That brings me to what I believe is the main problem with DUET, and a problem with the game itself as well - the story doesn't put in any real effort to flesh out the characters you're supposed to feel bad for, yet expects you to feel bad for them anyway. Even after playing the entire 25 hours of this game, I don't know anything about Sunny, nor can I recall anything noteworthy about him except from him calling lemons "oragnes". I don't know anything about who Mari really was except that she's treated by the narrative as if she was Jesus in the flesh. They're not characters - they're effectively cardboard cutouts, and I have no idea why the game's imploring me to shed tears over two cardboard cutouts.

The cherry on top is Omori straight-up vanishing after the cutscene ends. One could argue that Sunny's victory was temporary, but that's not indicated - Omori seems to actually vanish once and for all after the game's events, and the main menu even features Sunny himself as opposed to Omori to mark the change. Because we all know that severe depression can be treated by thinking happy thoughts, right? tfw the powerpoint slideshow was so cringe that even the depression decided to peace out

Maybe I wouldn't have been as harsh if the story had Mari kill herself instead of it being a cover-up for manslaughter. Maybe then I'd have been able to see the tragedy. But given the context of the plot twist, all I can see is a coward and a liar soothing his well-earned guilt over committing a serious crime and lying about it in the most laughably melodramatic fashion possible.