#but i fucked something up with the list and the numbers got all scrambled and i couldnt actually get any of them done :(

[awkwardtickleetoo]

I'm gonna try to go through my drafts and inbox today (or tomorrow) as much as I can to try to clear some stuff out :)

[nyoomfruits]

"I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me" for the ask list? maybe landoscar or any pair you feel inspired by! <3

“i think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me”

It’s started to drizzle when Lando pushes his way through the front doors of the hotel, runs out into the street. Oscar’s only a few feet away, standing on the curb looking at his phone, clearly waiting for the car to come pick him up. His suitcase is next to him, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Oscar,” Lando breathes out more than says, way too relieved to find him still here, rushing in his direction.

Oscar hears him anyway, looks up a little confused, even more confused when he spots Lando. “Lando?” He asks. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, you fucking bastard,” Lando says, puts his hands on his hips. “Not anymore. A letter, really? Not even. A fucking letter?”

Oscar has the decency to look at little ashamed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Bullshit,” Lando says. “That’s and you know it. I just want to know why. This whole week we’re having a great time together and I thought, you know. And then you leave me a fucking letter confirming that great time, and then you fucking end it with ‘I’m sorry to leave but I can’t be what you want me to be’. What does that even mean.”

“I don’t do casual, Lando,” Oscar says. He looks a little tired around the eyes, a little sad. Lando gets it. He’s not a driver, doesn’t even work for F1, but he’s lived near Silverstone all his life. He knows how hectic shit gets. How taxing this whole week is for someone like Oscar. “I can’t- Not with you.”

“Okay,” Lando says, a little confused. “That’s nice? For you? Then why didn’t you just, I don’t know. Leave your phone number? You know, like a normal person. Or you could’ve woken me up. Even normaler person behavior.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Oscar says, and when Lando merely glares at him he shrugs, a little bashfully. “You just. I just didn’t think that’s something you wanted. You gave the impression you know. That this was just a one week thing to you.”

And. Okay. Maybe Lando did keep talking about how F1 feels like this one-week festival every year. How it comes and goes and feels like transporting yourself to another universe for a week. How he’s made friends he only sees once a year. How he’s made friends that felt like the best he’d ever dad for the duration of that one week and then never saw again.

He’d never considered that, with Oscar. Oscar had felt. Permanent. All encompassing. Inevitable. From the moment Oscar had gotten out of his stupid bright orange McLaren down the road from his parent’s farm to ask for directions because he’d found himself horrible turned around, Lando had felt this. Connection.

Which is stupid, because Oscar is a world famous F1 driver and Lando is a farmer’s son from a small town in the middle of the English countryside, but still. They’d clicked, immediately. Oscar somehow being perfectly equipped to deal with Lando’s slightly chaotic energy in a way no one in this town ever really had, giving as good as he got. He’s charming, in a very understated way. Sweet.

And they had fun, this past week. A lot of fun. Fun Lando hoped they would be able to continue, after.

But then this morning had happened, and the letter, and he’s started doubting that maybe-

“It wasn’t,” he says, earnestly, honestly. Because if he only gets one shot at this, he’s taking it with both hands. Worst case scenario he’ll never see Oscar again. Best case scenario… Well. He’d love to find out. “Just a one week thing for me.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, and he’s smiling, and the rain has started to pick up so his hair is starting to stick to his forehead, but neither of them really cares. “Me neither. If you want, yeah. Me neither.”

“Good,” Lando says, nods. His shirt is getting soaked. He wishes he’d grabbed a jacket during his mad scramble to catch Oscar in time. “Right. I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.” He says, only half-jokingly, when there’s a sort of awkward silence between them.

Oscar however, doesn’t waste a single moment, reaching forward like he’s been waiting for Lando to say that all his life, his fingers sliding over Lando’s wet cheeks as he pulls them closer. It’s really starting to pour down now, but for a moment, when Oscar’s lips touch his, Lando feels like the sun is shining just for them.

[yellowbunnydreams]

The Blood Runs Thicker (part 18) ~vampire!William Afton x F! Reader~

~I have many plans for this series still! I wanted to thank everybody for their continued support.~

Tag-List; @ruh--roh-raggy @randymeeksisafinalgirl @sleepy---head @robin-the-enby @hungrhay @likoplays @slxsher-whxre @nicolezghostz @spiderlilytengu @yondus-girl @puppetstr1ings @tylerxrbtwhp

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CW:Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - ??), graphic acts of violence, biting, knife-play, blood, blood-drinking/licking, mention of dead children, anaemia. Mentions of torture. Drama/Angst. Possessive behaviour, choking, hickeys, murder, intoxication/substance abuse

The car ride from Henry's was mostly silent.

William hadn't disclosed what he had done, and Henry had let them leave without much of a goodbye, only stopping to hand you his number 'in case you needed anything'. Staring out of the window, you watched as the sky got darker again, the deep indigo colour bleedings into the rose golds and violets of the setting sun across the Utah landscape. You wondered where you were heading, but you could feel the foul mood that William was in as he quietly simmered and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Eventually, he pulled into a motel parking lot, the low lighting making everything seem all too grimy as William got out of the car and slammed the door shut. You flinched, watching him leave as he headed towards the reception, leaving you to wait for him in the car.

It took less than five minutes for him to return, although he didn't head towards the car, but rather a room. You got out of his car and jogged over towards him as best as you could, feeling his scowl even though his face was turned away from you. He practically shouldered the door open when it didn't open immediately for him, holding it open and making a vague gesture for you to step inside.

The room was much like any other motel you'd seen the inside of. Beige upon beige and beige again, with a sickly yellow light that complimented nobody and turned what you supposed was meant to be a blue bed-spread into something sickly greenish. Although, you were surprised to see two single beds rather than a double. Raising an eyebrow at Afton, who had disappeared back to the car to grab a few bags and bringing them in before he closed the door with an air of finality.

"Where are we heading?" You asked finally, the first words that had been spoken since the house, and William paused, looking at part of the floor before shrugging his shoulders nochelantly.

"To see a friend." Was the curt reply, but you felt something boiling up inside you as you looked up at him. Making your heart pound loudly in your ears.

"See, the last time you said that, I found out you nearly ate another kid and instead paralysed her for life, and-"

"Shut up." He hissed, but you were too angry to stop, your arms flailing in agressive gesticulation.

"And your so-called 'friend' had been waiting to beat your ass for twenty years? He also figured out what you were and basically told you that you would never be friends agai-"

You didn't get to finish the sentence as William was suddenly on you and slamming you so hard into the thin plaster wall that you saw stars. His hand around your throat and squeezing tighter than would have perhaps been safe, your hands moving up to his and scratching and scrambling, trying to get him to loosen it as he growled in your face. His pupils were pin-pricks, hyper-focused on you as his lip curled up into a snarl.

"I said...SHUT. UP." Yelling the last two words with a shake of your weakening body as if the sudden outburst of violence hadn't punctuated the fact you should have listened before. "God, you are so fucking perfect aren't you? Like you've never made a mistake! You think I wanted to hurt kids?"

You couldn't answer, choking as your vision began to turn to a fuzzy black at the edges before William dropped you, leaving you gasping, curled in on yourself as you gripped onto the trashy carpet like it was your only life-line to keep you grounded. William stood over you and ran his hands through his hair, tousling the greying that would never grow further or go away as he closed his eyes and looked to the ceiling.

"Bunny..." He cooed after a moment, turning his head down to look at you, kneeling down and you saw something raw behind his eyes when you pushed yourself away from him. Your breathing hard as your hand moved up to your throat, it felt hard to breathe, and something didn't feel quite right internally. "Baby, I'm sorry."

"Let me help you. Please? I...I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have, you were right to be angry with my answer." His voice was still soft, reaching out to you, you tried to swallow and found it almost impossible as you let out a slightly gurgling wheeze, and deciding that you were still unsure about his mood swing, you took his hand cautiously.

William picked you up when you reached your hand out to him, putting you into his lap and cradling you against him as he sat on the nearest bed. Soothing your hair with one hand as he brought his other hand to his mouth, making your eyes widen in horror as he bit into his own wrist hard enough you could see a chunk come away with it that he didn't spit out. Lips and beard bloody as he pressed the profusely spurting tissue to your lips, realising he had torn open an artery. You refused to open your mouth, but William continued to soothe your hair.

"Bunny, drink up. You're....You're not going to become like me, you've healed this way before." He assured, and something desperate in his voice encouraged you to comply. Parting your lips and latching onto him, biting into his skin with a hiss of displeasure from him as you felt his body tensing up behind you. Fighting every instinct as you swallowed, your eyes flickering up to his face. "Yeah...Yeah I deserved that."

Surprisingly, after a few mouthfuls, it started to taste good. Something smoky and complex, rich and like a hint of the cinnamon sugar you had tasted in the tea at Henry's, but you practically whined as William took his wrist away from you. Blinking as you realised your vision felt different, like it was swimming slightly and the light was too bright, making you squint against it. William continued to soothe your hair.

"You can't have much more than that, bunny. You're already probably experiencing side-effects." He murmured against your head as he left a kiss against your hair. Your hand moved up to your throat before his large hands encircled your wrists and held you still from touching it. "Don't touch it for now, please? I'll turn off the lights for a bit, I need you to sleep for it to work best of all, I promise I'll be right here."

Afton slipped out from underneath you, and you shielded your eyes against the light as he walked over and flicked off the lights. Your eyes felt instantly better, and you swore you could hear a slowly thumping heart beat getting louder as you could make out William's steps getting closer.

"Why...?" Your voice was hoarse, and you heard William tutting as he gently guided you to lay down, taking off your shoes for you and wrapping the duvet cover around you. Hearing the mattress squeak under his weight and his hand returned to your hair.

"Because you're here. Because I couldn't express how many times I've thought of Charlie over the years and how much regret I've carried with me for the things I've done." His voice in the dark sounded...weak...sad. His fingers in your hair were the most gentle he'd ever been with you, and you found yourself closing your eyes to the gentle motion.

"Kids?"

"They were easiest to lure away. I couldn't....I tried not to leave everything behind. I tried not to give in to the hunger that I had developed seemingly overnight. When you turn, it's...it's intense. It's a hunger that gnaws at you and gnaws until there is nothing left but rage at everything. You're overstimulated. Lights suddenly hurt your eyes, sounds are too loud, people....People are a whole other overstimulating experience." He sighed, chewing his lip as he let the dark mask everything he was confessing like a comfort blanket.

"Charlie....Charlie was the first person I saw when I was dumped on my ass after trying to find food from an adult. You're so overwhelmed, your body is changing in ways you don't want or understand and that makes you vulnerable. I was half-feral with hunger, my ego had been bruised, and then there she was....I have regretted that day ever since. Every family I ruined because I was too overwhelmed to figure out how to feed safely and without people whilst I was young."

You reached out your hand from your little cocoon, and held onto his rough hand. Whilst your mind was still reeling from all the information, you could hear in his voice the real regret behind it. After a moment, he held onto yours too, his thumb stroking over the smoothness of your skin. He couldn't deny the sick part of him that thrilled at seeing you marked up and bruised because of him, but there was something simmering beneath it all that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Sorry...." The word came out weakly, and you realised how pathetic it was of you to forget that you were with a killer. Somebody who actively gained from hurting you. But you heard the tenderness in the dark, your mouth tasted more than copperish, surely he wouldn't have done such a thing if he truly believed your life wasn't worth it?

"No need bunny, I'm the one who should be sorry."

"You're...hurt...too..."

"Still not quite as good as our first meeting." You heard him chuckle as he gave your hand a squeeze, bringing it up his lips which felt unusually cool compared to how hot the vampire usually ran. Thinking back to when he had chased you down in the pizzeria and how you had fought tooth and nail, how you'd been the first to injure him in quite a while. "But yes, I've given a lot more blood than I'm usually comfortable with."

"Charlie...?"

It took William a moment to answer as he considered how to. You weren't stupid, no matter how many times he called you his dumb bunny, or tutted and rolled his eyes like it was obvious. You had been scared, naturally, but it had developed either in Stockholm Syndrome trust in him or something had genuinely happened for him to earn your trust, but you had been more receptively curious about it all. You had asked questions, even if Michael had been your original tutor, which he regretted allow to happen.

"It won't be quick. But...Since I heal, and whatever consumes my blood heals...as long as she remembers, as long as Henry follows my instructions, she will recover. She will be broken to be mended, and I hope Henry has the strength to do it." His voice was soft, almost whistful as he held onto your hand. Bringing it back up to his lips and kissing your palm before he shuffled around and left the bed, leaving you alone as you heard the other bed creaking quietly.

You could feel those silver eyes on your in the dark as your own eyes began to flutter shut, breathing deepening as something akin to calmness swept over you. It wasn't the euphoria that Michael had provided, it was something warmer still.

It was honesty between equals.

The sunlight streaming in the next day when you woke you up, hearing the birds chirping outside as you stirred from the too hard mattress that had worn down so you could feel each spring digging into your sides. Everything still felt mildly too bright, but it was certainly a lot better than the night before, where it felt like your head might explode if you accidentally looked at the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

Looking over to William in the next bed over, you noticed how he was laid flat on his back, a book laid across his chest and his glasses still on. But his chest didn't seem to be moving, and you were never sure if the vampire was sleeping or not, you'd learned that lesson the hard way.

William didn't stir, and so you slipped out of your bed, carefully picking up the book and marking the page with a small dog-ear and carefully reaching up to take his glasses from his face. Placing the gold aviators on top of the book on the bedside table, you stood over him for a few moments.

It would be all too easy for you to grab something sharp and attempt to end him.

Thinking for a moment, you decided that you didn't have the heart to carry out such a threat in your heart of hearts. Grabbing the covers from your bed, you shuffled over and climbed onto the bed next to him. Precariously perched on the edge, you froze as William shifted and wrapped his arms around you, pulling the blanket over both of you and cradling you to his chest. He didn't seem to move otherwise, and you felt your heart pounding as you worried you were about to get into trouble.

The vampire sighed and kissed the top of your head, squeezing you softly. Your name falling from his lips quietly, the first time he had used it in a while, the sound of his deep, gravelly voice filled with sleep and murmuring your name sent butterflies into your stomach.

He settled back down once again, and you felt your own eyes growing heavy again as he held you close. But you decided that you needed to do something rather than fall asleep again, tilting your head up to give William a kiss on his cheek and smiling softly as he groaned whilst you wriggled out of his arms. Making sure to tuck him back into the covers before you headed towards to bathroom to freshen up.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall once you'd finished showering, you were surprised to find that it was late afternoon, and not in fact, morning. Blinking as you wondered how long you had slept, and how William was still asleep. He looked peaceful, but you could see the bruising still settled under his skin and beard, and the wound on his wrist had been bound up, but a quick peek told you that there was still a significant wound even if it wasn't bleeding anymore.

He needed to eat, you needed to as well. But you knew he had been reserved on feeding off of you for a few days now, even though you weren't quite sure why.

It took you all of twenty-five minutes to think of a plan.

Taking some cash from William's wallet, you grabbed a pen and paper and wrote out everything you were planning on doing, you just hoped that William would wake up in time, and where you were going. Apologising for taking money, but explaining the reasons as you knew he would approve of them once he'd read the note.

Grabbing a brochure from the table, you tucked it into your pocket, put on your shoes and grabbed a little extra cash for a safety buffer. Heading out of the motel and into the wide world beyond.

It was lucky that the motel was on the outskirts of some city that you didn't recognise, and you were able to get the bus into the heart of it. There were so many people, and you weren't sure how you were going to navigate the plan successfully, but you were determined to try.

You had to after all, you wanted to see that proud smile on William's face again and hear him tell you that you were his clever bunny again.

Once night fall had arrived, your plan had been set into motion.

You had spent the day wandering the city and managing to slowly make your way around various drug stores, testing make-up as you went until you had a full face of it. A sample of perfume had also been obtained from some store under the pretence of making sure that your boyfriend liked it before buying the whole bottle. You'd bought yourself some food, eating something slightly unhealthy but filling as you knew William wouldn't have approved of you eating too much fast food.

But your main purchase of the day had been a burner phone, a dress and some heels.

You headed to one of the more popular nightclubs in the city, stopping in a dark alleyway along the way and changing out into the dress and heels carefully. Placing them into a bag you managed to secret away, you fluffed your hair and made sure that if felt alright before you headed towards the nightclub and flirted just enough with the bouncer to get you in without the cover fee.

The dress you had chosen for the evening was a long sleeved, black number that hugged your bust and flared at your waist with a slit up to your hip on one side. There were black sequins and golden thread weaved together in some intricate design you hadn't paid much attention to, but combined with the black heels you had found, you had achieved your goal of looking like sex incarnate.

The night was barely beginning, and so you slipped into the bathroom and scrawled the number of the disposable cell onto the wall in black sharpie with 'call for a good time' written above it.

Nobody even noticed you slipping out of the men's room as the club filled up.

You mingled easily, keeping a drink that you slowly sipped through the evening, feeling the bass pounding in your chest to mask your rushing pulse, eyes scanning the crowds as you wondered if the plan would work.

When the phone began to ring in the little purse you had bought, you knew it would.

You purposely didn't answer it, letting it ring and ring on the lowest sound volume that you could, nobody seemed to notice and you had no doubts that there were some frustrated voicemails left on there that would never be found. But you were looking for one type of individual in particular, the one that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and would feel angry that such a service had been denied to them.

A movement in the throng of bodies caught your eye and you tried hard not to light up. There they were, a man who looked older than the usual crowd of people gathered, who you had noticed getting closer to girls who looked about your age during the time you had been there. Occassionally pulling his phone up to his ear and looking around like he was searching for something. There could have been something innocent about it, perhaps he was looking for a daughter that had snuck out, or was there to pick up somebody too intoxicated to stand.

But the rage in his eyes told you different.

During the other daylight hours, you had found a quiet public library to research at whilst you snuck some snacks in to tide yourself over. You had been looking at true crime, the type of thing that was put to court with stalkers, or that made police go 'what were they doing there?'. Something about being around William Afton and remembering that night you had lured the receptionist to his untimely demise had sparked something in the back of your darkest mind. You could help him, you could make sure that whilst he was refusing to feed from you, you didn't have to live with the guilt of stealing from hospitals and blood banks.

There were people you could help that you would never see by removing certain people from the world's equation.

He was scouring for his prize, unaware of the trap that was being laid carefully for him. You pretended not to watch as he drew closer, waiting until he was practically next to you and rang the number once again, you could practically feel the testosterone pumping in what he probably considered a peak predatory body.

Oh how wrong he was.

Your fingers clutched the phone delicately as you looked at the screen and declined the call. Tipping back the last of your drink and heading towards the back door of the nightclub. His seething rage was almost hot against your back as he realised he was being purposely ignored.

He would follow, of that you were certain.

Bursting into the back alley, you paused for a deep breath before you swayed down the alleyway, pretending to have had too much to drink as you heard the door opening and closing behind you once again. Your heart was pounding much louder in your ears as you tried to focus on the end of the alleyway.

One step.

He was gaining on you.

Second step.

You could hear his heavy breathing. But you needed to keep an even pace.

Third step.

His fingers reached out to brush your hair as he managed to step in time behind you, trying to mask his footsteps.

The strangled yelp behind you and the sudden absence of presence caused you to stop and turn around.

William Afton stood in the dark, his head buried into the shoulder of the man who had followed you from the nightclub. The same man now had wide eyes and was scrambling to try and push the vampire off of him, but William simply yanked his head back and growled. You'd never seen what it looked like from the outside, but to all intents and purposes, it looke almost peacefully intimate.

Apart from the red blooming across his light coloured shirt.

It took a surprisingly long time as you kept watch, leaning against the wall of the alleyway. First came the lethargy, followed by the strength of his hands failing as he continued to try and push William away. Third, his breath became shallow and weak, his skin turning greyish-yellow. William had to wrap his hand around his chest to keep him upright as it seemed like his body was failing to keep him upright as the stranger's head slowly nodded forwards, or rather, rolled. Eyes unfocused and glassy, staring into you, or rather through you as the light flickered out.

Part of you felt sick with yourself that you had let another human being die in front of you.

Another part was quietly content, like a faint hum in the back of your ears that didn't quite sound like anything.

William dropped the corpse onto the ground, his face and beard smeared with blood as he took a moment to focus. His body was shaking with adrenaline, pupils blown out as he tried to reign in the impulse to go after you next. He was not used to living bodies next to him after he had finished, and the man you had lured had been filled with adrenaline and rage. Vampires always got doses of the hormones and chemicals that their victims had when they were fed upon, some got a rush out of it. But Afton didn't want to hurt you.

You looked so pretty, standing there in that dress in the low light, red neon highlighting you from behind.

He stalked towards you, making your heart race slightly as he looked so predatory in that moment that whatever feelings you had developed towards him were temporarily overridden by that primal fear.

His large, calloused hands settled on your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest and looking down at you. Not noticing how he smeared crimson against the sequins and fabric, incriminating you, marking you in a dead man's blood.

"You play a very fucking dangerous game." He growled, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you placed your hands against his chest, feeling the warmth through the tshirt he had worn.

"I wanted to surprise you." He tilted his head at your answer, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, betraying his serious expression.

"Surprise me? You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse, stupid little bunny." He brought his head closer, nuzzling into your neck and breathing deep, feeling himself nipping and licking at your skin. "What if another of my kind had found you?"

"Then I would have tried to hold onto until you could come."

"What if I had to turn you to save you?"

"William, I've just lured somebody to their death for you. I'm not...It feels strange still, but I figured that this was the best way. I could get used to it." Your breath was shakey as William hummed against you before gently cradling your head and sucking on the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Making you gasp as you held onto him.

"You're a good girl, do you know that bunny? You're my good girl." He whispered, licking up your neck before nipping at your ear, feeling his stubble scratch against you. You felt like you were on fire, that you would burn up if you didn't do something."

William silence any thoughts you may have had as he cupped your chin with his forefinger and thumb, kissing you softly. Surprisingly so. But your lips moved against his after only a moment of pause, he tasted like iron. But there was something under it, something spiced and heady that made your head feel like it was spinning as he ran his tongue against your lip and asked to deepen it. Allowing him to do so as he grabbed you tighter to him. Everything about the movement was slow and sensual, a side you didn't know William Afton had, it made your knees weak and you clung onto him like he was your only life-line.

After too short a time, he parted from you. Leaving bloody saliva trailing between you as he cupped your face adoringly, searching your eyes before chuckling darkly.

"Oh you can taste him, can't you, bunny? You're still experiencing side effects from my blood. Don't worry little one, I don't plan on being greedy tonight." Chuckling as he reached into your bag and pulled out the burner phone, sending off a rapid fire text as he hugged you to his side.

"That's...him?"

"Oh yes...hmm..I wonder if I can get you to understand why you drive me so fucking crazy. What a rare little opportunity my dumb little bunny might get to taste herseld twice." Throwing the phone into a nearby dumpster, he guided you towards the darker end of the alleyway, away from the nightlife and crowds.

"William?"

"Don't you get it sweetheart? I'm going to eat you in more than one way tonight, and I want you to see how you drive me feral." Growling playfully, he pulled you in against him again in a kiss. Nipping at your lip and making you flinch as the blood pearled up on your skin, watching the vampire lick his teeth as he held onto you tightly.

"You're mine. And only mine, sweet little thing." He whispered, kissing the top of your head as you passed dark windows where his reflection didn't show.

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

Hi! Imma do something rare and actually make content, but its 11 at night and i just had a brain worm

for those of you that don’t know, i work at an accounting office. we do taxes. it is tax season. and now im thinking abt how AGSZC does taxes and what their papers are like and im inflicting it on the rest of you even if its gibberish

Angeal: A godsend. Keeps his forms in order and filed properly, calculates everything else himself like a good man. Papers honestly aren’t too bad, maybe 10-12 just because of his career/insurance plus his doubtless donations to charity, but aside from that. straightforward and done at his kitchen table

Genesis: A fucking NIGHTMARE. no doubt pays someone else to do it. and for fucks sake, i know he invests. constantly and consistently and probably in anything he thinks stands the slightest chance against shinra on the market. his 1099-B is a mess and definitely Not Totaled, so his is the bullshit you have to insert one. investment. at. a time. He’s the type that keeps fucking calling too, I can just tell. but, aside from the 1099-B, he’s probably got simple stuff as well. probably several 1099-INTs from several different bank accounts, maybe a couple 1098s floating around from vacation houses or some shit.

Sephiroth: Does his own. In ridiculously early. Makes almost no personal purchases so hardly has anything to pay. I can’t imagine not having a last name or not knowing his birthday doesn’t end up a legal problem somehow, so he likely has to walk directly into a damn tax office to say hey this is me and this is my shit no, someone isn’t stealing my identity. has one singular document and it’s his W-2. Which is. Fucking astronomical. Like, the number doesn’t even look right. His paycheck as a SOLDIER isn’t taxed, so he doesn’t really get much back on his refund. The only first without a healthcare /insurance form because why tf would Sephiroth have healthcare? What’s he gonna do, get sick?

not getting into how doing his own taxes was definitely a fight between him and Hojo at some point and ended up getting hashed out in a board room. Hojo didn’t like him having the autonomy of filing for himself instead of being claimed ad Hojo’s ‘dependent’. Sephiroth deadass threatened to go to court abt it. The President told Hojo to suck it up so they didn’t have to deal with scandal, Hojo wouldn’t tell Seph his birthday to be difficult, and here we are

Zack: Panicking. Late. Doesn’t know if his forms came in the mail, doesn’t know where he put them most of the time. Scrambles around for a fuck ton of receipts, ultimately has to request Shinra send him his shit again. DEFINITELY pays someone else to do it. W-2, 1095-A, 1099-C(s)(he has several debts i can feel it i love him but he screams bad financial decisions), probably some shit for his bike too. He customs it so I can see him listing some parts he buys for it as work expenses. Jokingly puts some money he gave aerith for flowers and what he spent to make her wagon as donations to charity and it actually goes through because the church is still considered a legal entity. Definitely has to pay late fees.

Cloud: Pays Tifa to do it. Filing for both of them is a nightmare cause all their shit burnt in Nibelheim, so once Edge gets right with the WRO they have to do all their paperwork from scratch and get reassigned SSNs. He genuinely has a fuckton of paperwork from doing the Strife Delivery Service. Luckily, only ‘employee’ he has is Tifa, and even then she doesn’t do things regularly aside from pick up the phone. Doesn’t make his business an LLC until he’s literally forced to due to his number of clients and someone trying to sue him for damages. 1099-NEC for TIfa for sure, then once he’s an LLC, some yearly maintenance to keep legal. Mileage and gas expenses go CRAZY on his self employment form, I fucking bet. I bet Cloud’s handwriting is shit tho. Tifa’s at her desk counting up his gains and losses for fucking ages because his fives look too similar to sixes. Eventually she wrangles him into installing some shit on his phone that counts it up, if only to cure her headache. Funnily enough, he does get veteran benefits from what’s left of Shinra’s shit, reparations of sorts, but he doesn’t keep it. All goes to charity, so that ends up in the books too.

alright, that was unnecessarily in depth and way longer than i planned. good night LMAO

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 20: Plans Within the Plans of Plans

Chapter Word Count: 4,918

TW 1) Jeonghan and DK are little shits 2) Minghao doesn't know how to knock 3) Drinking 4) Someone gets DRUGGED, YES, IT HAPPENS. 5) Someone gets threatened…it's complicated 6) Uhhhhhh, yeah, I'm tired. 7) if I forgot something, my bad

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Your alarm was going off, it was a lot brighter in here than what you remembered. 

Did I forget to close the curtains in my room? Was all your semi-conscious brain could muster. 

Cracking an eye open, you went to shift to find your phone but fell short at the weight around your body. Now your brain was awake and on high alert, eyes snapping open to be met by Joshua’s face twisting with minor annoyance, probably from being woken up. He made a groan as he stretched his legs out but his arms tightened around your midsection. 

Honestly it was nice laying in his arms but your head had to be malfunctioning because you have a fucking boyfriend.

“Good morning!” Seokmin was stepping out from the hallway and you scrambled to remove yourself from Joshua’s hold. He was dressed in a simple gray suit for work, holding something – you saw a blouse you think? – as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Ow fuck!” You stumbled off the couch and bashed your knee into the coffee table, falling onto the second couch as you clutched your leg.

“Sleep well you two? I slept amazing and it’s only six in the morning.” 

Joshua was sitting up, a pouty frown spread on his face as he grumbled out. “Too early, shut up.” 

Seokmin only smiled, something playful and devilish behind his eyes as he set his gaze on you. “I had Sona pick up something from your apartment for you to wear and she grabbed some toiletries.” He held up the hanger with a blouse and dress pants from your closet and another bag, probably holding some undergarments. 

Quickly you stood and grabbed the clothes before running down the hall, wanting to get out and away from both of them. Standing at the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to make sense of what the hell was happening.

Back track, come on. 

You splashed some water on your face, wracking your brain the best you could. 

Number one, you and Joshua went out yesterday to an arcade, had an amazing time, chatted for hours over pizza, then came back to the penthouse to watch movies. 

Number two, you and Joshua fell asleep together on the couch and you fell asleep on top of him. 

Number three, you didn’t…hate it. But you were definitely confused on how you were feeling, if it was actual feelings or simple adoration because Jeonghan was away and you were lonely. 

Number four, YOU FELL ASLEEP ON JOSHUA, YOUR BOYFRIEND’S BEST FRIEND, AND SEOKMIN SAW YOU.

You were screwed, that’s was the conclusion you have come to. For now, you’d put on your work outfit, get ready for the day, and pray that Seokmin would not, under any circumstances, bring any of it up. 

“So…” Seokmin didn’t really say anything until lunch, sitting in your office with the take out he ordered for the two of you. “What uh…What happened with you and Shua last night?” 

Suddenly you weren’t hungry anymore. 

“Uh- Last night? Nothing happened.” You stuttered out the words, quickly drinking down some of the water bottle he brought. “We went out, got pizza, then watched some movies.” 

“Mhmm…” He nodded, drumming his fingers against the table top of your desk. “Nothing…weird?” 

“Weird? Why would it be weird?” You cringed at the defense in your tone. 

That spurred on some impish behavior from Seokmin. 

“Why do you sound so defensive?” Tilting his head to the side, running his eyes over your face. “Something I should know about?” 

“No! Nope, nothing at all, I’m not being defensive, you are just being a snoop.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, hotshot.” 

[Jeonghan 2:17 PM]  How is the plan going?

Seokmin almost couldn’t contain the laughter that was bubbling in his chest at the text message. 

[To Jeonghan 2:20 PM]  Oh you know, Shua has been taking Mouse out each day this week once since he has been focusing on Pledis on Cheol’s orders. Totally haven’t caught them staring a little too long at each other.  Kind sickening if you ask me, you sure you don’t want me to put a bullet through him?  [Jeonghan 2:22 PM]  Ah, I don’t think Mouse would be okay with that~  Did he take her to that one restaurant she likes?  [To Jeonghan 2:25 PM]  Yes  Wednesday she said he took her to an art opening that Minghao invested in then dinner at the bistro you guys like Yesterday he picked her up from her apartment to go in a fucking picnic, wanted to punch him so bad. And today? Today he wants to take her to stargaze out on the house property. [Jeonghan 2:28]  I’m going to vomit, who knew Shua could be a romantic? Try and convince them to go to Ruby.  I think it's the push both of them need.  [To Jeonghan 2:30 PM]  That can be arranged.

Seokmin nearly skipped his way into Mouse’s office, seeing her leaned over her keyboard, a frown gracing her brow. 

“Who the fuck signs their emails, ‘ lukewarm regards’ ? Has he signed off like that before?” She asked herself before she was clicking away at her computer. 

“How’s my favorite girl?” He knocked his knuckles on the open door to her office, “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Oh uh-” She whipped her head up, “I think nothing? Maybe just hanging around the house?” 

“Good so we can go out to Ruby tomorrow?” 

“Ruby? I mean, not saying we can’t, but why?” 

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, strolling over to her desk. “Why not? I’ve had a long week, family has too, Hoon is gonna be behind the bar. Make it a group event.”

Seokmin rounded Mouse’s desk, leaning himself against the side of it. Mouse looked up at him, analyzing his expression, she had become really good at reading him since learning the big ‘secret’. Tilting his head, he softened his gaze, putting on his best ‘ totally innocent, totally not hiding anything’ face. 

Her face contorted in thought but ultimately her shoulders dropped. “Fine, are you taking me home or is Shua?” 

“I am, then you can pick up some stuff and just stay in Han’s room. Shua has a late meeting before your little date~” 

Mouse reached out and slapped his arm which he recoiled and whined at, not stopping the laughter from coming out. “It isn’t a date!” 

“It isn’t a date.” He mocked but got hit again, this time harder. “Stop, stop! I am only teasing!” 

“God, you are worse than Gyu and Chan.”

“If I was really like the two of them, you’d be kicking their asses, but you like me the most~” Leaning down in her face, she gave a disgusted grimace, pushing his chin up and face away from her. 

“I’d still kick your ass and I have all of them on speed dial.” 

“I’m fine, Hannie, Shua has been good company.” You and Seokmin arrived at the house not long before Jeonghan called. 

“ Was the art gallery nice?” 

A shy smile spread on your lips and you shook your head. 

The art exhibit was amazing, Minghao always had a good eye for art and the fact he helped endorse the artist was even better. The pieces were beautiful and having the opportunity to spend time with Minghao and Joshua outside the house but in an interesting environment was great. At the end of the night, Minghao went off for dinner with the artist while Joshua took you to a small Italian bistro. He explained that it was a favorite place of him, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol since before SVT was together. They had helped keep it alive during hard times for the owner since they enjoyed it so much. 

“It was beautiful and very thought provoking. Minghao got the artists to talk about some of the pieces with me then Joshua took me to a small Italian place he says you guys like a lot. I can see why you three like it.” 

“ Mmm, I was hoping to take you there one day, but Shua will do until I get back.” Hearing Jeonghan hum again, he continued on. “ Speaking of Shua, how has hanging out with him been? You two usually don’t get time to talk together without someone there.” 

Oh that wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. 

Things have been…complicated mentally for you. 

Spending time with Joshua was refreshing, calm, maybe even captivating. Joshua never was over the top like Jeonghan was at times, he was fine with comfortable silence while Jeonghan and you liked to go on and on about any topic that came to mind. While they were very similar, they couldn’t be more different. Two very different sides of the same coin. 

On top of that, you could see Joshua was flirting with you, not as blind as you were with Jeonghan. There was guilt that riddled your heart and mind because you are in a relationship. You couldn’t understand the feelings you were experiencing and you couldn’t bring yourself to burden your boyfriend with them when he wasn’t in town to have an actual, adult conversation about it.

Though…last night when Joshua took you home after the dorkiest picnic you’ve ever experienced, you knew you were absolutely fucked. 

“ Did you have fun?” He asked, resting his arm over your shoulder as he walked to your door. “It wasn’t a whole lot but it's always nice to just sit, eat, and talk with you. It’s been my favorite part of the last few days.” His words were sweet, laced with flirtation. 

There were…butterflies in your stomach.  

“It was nice, Shua. I never had a picnic where I could sit and simply watch the sunset between the good food and the company.” Answering honestly, pulling out your keys to unlock the door as the two of you stopped before it. 

“I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.” Removing his arm from your shoulder, Joshua leaned himself against the door frame, watching as you unlocked the deadbolt and the knob. “It’s been very refreshing in comparison to work.” 

Lifting your gaze to his face, you took an unexpected deep breath in. 

Soft, longing eyes were staring back at you. His head was leaned up against the frame, little to no tension in his shoulders and jaw. Hell there was a faint smile tugging at the edges of his lips that sent your stomach into summersaults. 

“You should get inside, Mouse.” 

“Huh- Yeah- yeah, I will.” You don’t know what possessed you but you stepped closer to his, placing a hand on one of his cheeks while you gave a feather-like kiss to the other. “Have a goodnight, Shua.” 

“He has been nothing short of a gentleman as he likes to flaunt.” You swallowed down the anxiety and guilt. “Hey, let me get off the phone, your room is a mess and I want to clean up a little since I’m staying the night here.” 

“ Sorry about that~ I was in a rush.” 

Rolling your eyes, you smiled. “I know, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Promise.” 

“I know you will. Have a good night, love.” 

“Goodnight, Hannie.” 

When the call disconnected, you sighed, running your hands over your face. 

“It’s fine, everything is fine, you only kissed Joshua’s cheek, you have kissed some of the other guys cheeks before too.” Trying to reassure yourself, maybe even justify some of it to ease your mental suffering, you sat on the edge of Jeonghan’s bed. “As long as you keep to yourself and not do anything else, you’ll be fine. You can talk to Han when he gets back and figure everything out and explain that it meant nothing.” 

“What meant nothing?” Minghao’s voice at the now open door had you yelling out before tossing a throw pillow at him. 

“Sound, Hao! Make sound when you move! You and Junhui make no sound!” 

Ignoring the pillow, he stepped over it and shuffled in, sitting himself beside you on the bed. “I knocked.” 

“Then you just opened the door?” 

“Force of habit.” He turned his face to glance at you, leaning back on his hands. “And I wanna ask again; What meant nothing?”

Letting out a sigh, you bounced your leg, shrugging. “I don’t really wanna talk about it right now. It’s complicated and I want to handle it on my own first.” 

“Does it have to do with someone at work? Do you need help?” 

“No- It’s personal. Nothing to concern yourself over.” 

“Mm.” Minghao hummed, leaning his head back. “Are you hungry? Mingyu is making a taco spread.” 

That was the one thing about Minghao you loved, he knew when not to press issues. 

“You know what? I’m absolutely starving.” 

You really needed to stop Seokmin from helping with your outfits. 

He said for the club you needed to look sexy, show a little, give a lot – whatever that meant –, but still be at least somewhat comfortable. The previous day before heading to the house, Seokmin had a field day in your closet, sorting through possible clothing combinations while you gathered other items. 

“He is so lucky I like this dress.” You grumbled, pulling the outfit out of your bag, along with the shoes and pouch of accessories. 

Seokmin’s choice for the night was a signature little black dress you ordered online a couple weeks back. The base was a short, asymmetrical hemmed, mid-thigh length dress. The bodice had a deep v-cut and and spaghetti straps, covered in a thin black mesh with sleeves that reached your wrists. You agreed to pair it with strappy black block heeled shoes as long as he agreed to handle your change of shoes as a precaution. The jewelry you picked was dainty and silver, much like the first time you went to Ruby. For makeup and hair were minimal. Just enough to cover blemishes and tame any hair that didn’t want to cooperate. Nothing too crazy. 

The final step was the black spandex so you weren’t surprising yourself or anyone else with a nice show of your barely covered ass in the underwear you had to wear for the dress. 

Stepping into the living room, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Joshua were waiting, all chatting about something quietly. 

“Alright boys, let me get drunk and sleep it off until Monday.” 

“Ohh~ Look at you, hotshot!” Seokmin had a shimmy to his step as he walked over, taking your hand and spinning you around. “Gorgeous, I want a picture of you. Gotta send it to Jeonghan.” 

You laughed, giving him a pose with a peace sign, kicking your foot up some. “Thank you, thank you. I have you to thanks for the outfit~” 

“No one will be able to take their eyes off you.” 

“Easy with the compliments.” Seungcheol snorted, rolling his eyes. “She already has a big enough ego.” 

Setting your eyes on the leader, you narrowed your eyes, taking in the half undone black button up and black slacks. For once he had his hair down, messy and in his face. 

“Says the man that nearly preens when someone compliments or praises him. Have a kink for that or are you just a bottom?” 

“Bottom? Would you like to find out?” 

Opening your mouth to reply, Joshua stepped in, holding his hands up between the two of you. “Easy now, Jeonghan isn’t here to handle your fights and I don’t want to.” He was dressed similarly to Seungcheol, the only difference was his hair pushed back from his face and the sleeves of his gray button up were rolled up to his elbows. 

Ignoring Seungcheol’s narrow eyed glare, you stepped towards the door, feeling a hand land on your lower back and an arm over your shoulder. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Seokmin said from your right, pulling you close by your shoulder while Joshua was a quiet force guiding you by the back.

Unlike last time, you entered in through the back door and slid right up to the VIP area. You had practically fallen into Mingyu’s hug when he called out to you from one of the couches, having missed spending time together since he had been busy. Vernon, unlike most nights from what you have heard, was lounging with Seungkwan on another couch, both with a drink in hand. 

Wonwoo came up from the stairs and sat beside Mingyu. Seungcheol and Joshua were standing near the overhang, looking down at the randoms on the dance floor as they danced. Minghao and Junhui sat at a high table. You did see Jihoon and Chan downstairs behind the bar when Seokmin split off to get drinks. Mingyu was able to tell you that Soonyoung was downstairs on the floor, letting loose. 

It took the first drink that Seokmin got you – a concoction Jihoon threw together for fun from what he said – before you were heading downstairs to find Soonyoung. The DJ tonight was good, whoever they were could mix a beat well and hype a crowd but you had a bias, Vernon mixed better. Soonyoung was drunk when you found him but he was upright and energetic, taking you by the hands to dance with you. 

“Ohh, you have eyes on you~” Soonyoung snickered, flicking his eyes up towards the balcony before meeting your gaze. “They have been for a while, Mousy~” 

Curiously, you peeked up only meeting the solo dark, heavy gaze of Joshua. Leaning over the balcony, a tight grip on the short glass cup in his hand, he stared down at you, expression unreadable. His head was cocked to the side and he raised a brow when he noticed your eyes on him. 

“Mousy Mouse~” Soonyoung grabbed your attention back and a lopsided smirk spread on his face. “Is there something you're not telling me~?” 

“Me? No.” You rolled your eyes, patting his cheek. “Let’s get you some water so you don’t hate everything tomorrow, lightweight.” 

One stop for water from Jihoon for both of you and a trip upstairs later had Soonyoung drunk rambling to Seungkwan and Vernon who took pity on him. You absolutely avoided Joshua on your way back downstairs, feeling his eyes following you the entire time you moved about the VIP area and down the stairs. You slid up to the edge of the bar with ease, signaling to Jihoon and Chan to focus on other patrons while you took a moment. Letting your eyes scan the bar, you took note of groups of girls and guys, loud chatter mixing with the music with the bass vibrating the floor. 

There was a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. It raised bile to burn the back of your throat but you didn’t know what was messing with you. 

“You want something now?” Jihoon asked, crossing his arms and resting them on the bar in front of you. “What's with the face?” 

“Just a vibe, can’t really figure out what it is, probably nothing. My gut instincts aren't the best.” Giving him a shrug, you matched his posture. “Can you get me another one of those concoctions?” 

“Can do,” He motioned for you to come closer and you leaned over the counter, letting him whisper in your ear. “Get Shua, we need an extra pair of hands down here. I’ll have the drink ready when you get back so no one touches it.” 

Then he was off and you made quick work of the stairs when the guard let you through. 

“Shua,” Still standing at the balcony, now with his back to the crowd, speaking with Mingyu, Joshua turned his attention to you. “Hoon needs you behind the bar.” 

“Mm,” He patted a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder before following you down, dropping his empty glass in the dishwasher rack when he got behind the bar, washing his hands quickly. 

Jihoon only took a few minutes to place a bright red colored drink in front of you, snickering at your raised brow. “I call it the Mouse Special.” 

“So original, how many shots?” 

“Take a sip and find out.” He winked and walked off, falling into rhythm with Chan and Joshua once more. 

You stood and watched, instantly cringing at the first sip of the strong drink. There was a lot in there, way more than you expected, but you were glad you ate earlier and had the water not that long ago. The three moved well around one another, having already seen Jihoon and Chan work, but seeing Joshua work behind the bar, the calm in the chaos that was his friends was compelling. 

He worked through customers with ease, making idle conversation as he made a show of pouring shots and drinks, maybe even flirting some to get better tips from the woman that ordered. There was a knot in your stomach forming alongside the unexplained nausea. 

Why the hell was he flirting with- 

Nope, do not finish that thought. You told yourself, quickly drinking down the cocktail Jihoon had provided. Shut yourself up, drink your drink, and get back on the floor. 

You don’t know how you caught it, but you did. 

Swaying to the music at the edge of the crowd, people-watching between the bar and the dance floor, you caught someone slipping something into a woman's drink. Chan, Jihoon, and Joshua all were near a crowd for a bachelorette group on the middle to far side of the bar, not fully focused on where the dickbag was. The woman in question was in a heated conversation with who you assumed were her friends, smiling bright with her eyes nowhere near her drink. 

You were moving before you comprehended it and slid up to the bar, fitting yourself between where she was and where the guy was standing. 

Making a show of leaning over the bar to gaze down at the boys before ‘noticing’ the drink in front of you, you played up intoxication and smiled wide. 

“Oh, is this yours?” You pointed to the drink – a colorful tropic one from what you could determine from the coconut smell – then to the man. “A Rum Punch?” 

He seemed startled by your sudden outburst, loud over the music so you could hear him. “Uh- Yeah.” Whoever this idiot was, he probably never had to deal with much hassle in his plans. 

“Do you like it? You drank some of it! The guys here make amazing drinks!” You picked up the glass and handed it over to him, pushing out a fake, obnoxious giggle. 

“I- No. I’m good, I’m going to take my drink slow.” He leaned away from you but you continued to push the drink closer to him. 

“Not even another sip? You are gonna let your drink get warm? It’s already starting to feel like it…” Faking a pout, you glanced between him and the drink.  

He leaned away more, ready to take a step back, but you took the time to strike. You giggled like the stereotypical drunk girl in the movies, about to say something, before accidentally pouring the drink all down the front of his shirt when you accidentally stumbled. Asshole yelled out in surprise, jumping away and staring down in disbelief at the mess you caused. 

“Oh my god!” You shouted, reaching over the bar to grab a handful of napkins. One look down the bar had all three of their eyes on you but Joshua was approaching quickly. “Let me help you with that, I’m so fucking clumsy sometimes-” You dabbed the front of his shirt, muttering apologies before grabbing his shirt and pulling until you were nearly touching noses.

Dropping the act quickly, you narrowed your eyes and set your jaw. “Listen to me and listen to me well, asshole. You aren’t as fucking slick as you think you are. If I ever see you back here again, I’ll string you by your balls and hang you outside as a warning for all the scumbags like you that try and step foot in here, do you understand?” 

“Who the fuck-” 

You don’t know what came over you, there was an untamed anger that had you grabbing him by the throat and squeezing hard. “I asked, do you understand? ” Beneath your hand, you could feel him swallow, taking in a strained breath that you were cutting off. 

“Y-Yes.” He barely managed to get the word out. 

“And if you ever try to slip anyone something in their drink ever again, I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.” 

You kept the hand on his throat while you dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, tossing it on the counter. Once he gave a nod, terror behind his eyes, you released your grip and pushed him back before he was running out of there with his tail between his legs. 

“Mouse-” 

Taking a deep breath, calming some of the rage that was built up inside of you, you turned back to the bar, opening the wallet and taking the ID out. Your hands were shaking as you closed the wallet and pushed it towards him. “I need to talk to Cheol. It’s a small mess on the floor over here.” 

Leaving Joshua in your wake without any explanation, you took the stairs two at a time and clocked Seungcheol sitting with Mingyu and Wonwoo. Stepping up, you sat on the ottoman before the three of them, clearing your throat, interrupting the conversation.

“I need you to do something.” 

Seungcheol frowned, turning to say something but stopped when he saw your tremoring hands in your lap. 

“What happened-” Mingyu leaned towards you but you held up the ID between two fingers. 

“I saw him spiking someone's drink. I handled that part. I need you to handle the rest.” 

Cheol looked taken aback, shaking his head in confusion. “Handled- What did you do, Mouse?” 

“Probably something stupid.” Wonwoo took the ID from your hand as you spoke, taking in another deep breath and forcing it out. “Don’t let him do it again, please.” 

Their leader stayed silent for a moment, keeping his eyes set on you as Wonwoo pulled out his phone and made quick work on the screen. “We’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.” 

You stood up, making your way downstairs to the bathroom, and locking yourself in one of the stalls to shake the still present fury and anxiety. 

“What happened?” Joshua was pulled aside by Seungcheol the moment he stepped foot upstairs when Jihoon didn’t need him anymore. 

“Where is she?” 

“Still in the bathroom last I checked, I have someone in the hallway by the door just in case. Answer my question, man, what happened?” 

Joshua was trying to wrap his head around what he saw. 

He had his attention on the bachelorette party when he heard yelling further down the bar followed by Mouse’s voice in a similar shout. There wasn’t…fear in her eyes when he caught her reaching over the counter for napkins, rather something dark, anger if he could think of a simple word off the top of his head. 

Joshua got there when she was already in the guy’s face and her threat to him even had a shiver running down his own spine. 

“ Listen to me and listen to me well, asshole. You aren’t as fucking slick as you think you are. If I ever see you back here again, I’ll string you by your balls and hang you outside as a warning for all the scumbags like you that try and step foot in here, do you understand?”

Then Mouse choking him? Where the hell did that fury come from? 

“Then she went off saying she needed to talk to you. I was going to ask Wonwoo to get the camera feed pulled up and see what all happened because she didn’t say anything to me.”  

“Already ahead of you.” Wonwoo stepped forward, turning his phone screen to show that the man did spike the drink and Mouse was forcing the drink towards him until dumping it down his front. 

“Did she-” 

“Choke him? Yeah.” Wonwoo turned the phone back, pulling up another camera feed to see where she was previously. “My guess she saw him from where she was on the edge of the dance floor while looking around and not two seconds later she was in his face and threatening him.” 

“She definitely scared him off.” 

“I have someone dealing with the guy.” Mingyu slid into the conversation, coming out of the office just down the hall. 

The thought of someone almost getting drugged in Ruby made him sick. That was one of the drug types they all agreed to never deal with, nothing that could aid with the rising issues with assault on anyone at bars and clubs. 

“Where’s Mouse? Why are you huddled up?” Seokmin’s voice had Joshua’s blood running cold and even Seungcheol didn’t look the best. 

“Is Sona here?” Joshua ignored the questions. 

“Back entrance still.” 

“I’m going to have her get Mouse.” 

“Get Mouse-? Hey, don’t ignore me!” 

Joshua was down the stairs and out the backdoor to find Sona. Luckily she wasn’t far and her concern was hidden behind a raised brow. “Sir?” 

“I’ll explain later but can you get Mouse out of the bathroom and bring her upstairs?”

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it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter six: basic instinct

words: 2.31k // warnings: cursing, crying, mentions of a knife

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 003

“okay, (y/n), i’m gonna need you to put the knife down, yeah?” chan pleaded, jeongin scrambling off of his lap as he moved to get off the bed with his hands in the air. “what’s going on?”

and all of a sudden, it was like there was no more oxygen in the room. (y/n)’s heart was thumping in a way that felt too fast for her chest, breath coming out in short, hot pants. tears were falling from her eyes, thick and salty and she dropped the knife to the floor with a clang.

“channie– innie–” was all she could squeeze out before she fell into his arms, the older male bringing her to sit on the bed next to jeongin.

it took a while to calm her down, and even after her breathing had calmed and the tears had stopped, the small trembles across her body still persisted. in all honesty, she felt silly. she didn’t mean to interrupt chan and jeongin - although that was a can of worms to be opened another time.

“thought someone had broken in. sorry for scaring you…” (y/n) mumbled, fiddling with her fingers when she felt chan get ready to talk - she knew what he was going to say anyway. “i… i got a text earlier. a private number– and it really scared me.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” jeongin pushed lightly, pulling (y/n) into a hug. “what did it say?”

opting to instead just show them the message rather than put herself through explaining it, (y/n) felt smaller than she ever had. did she really just let a stupid anonymous message cause her to nearly maim one of her best friends? that’s so stupid.

“i just– i thought it was a prank. i thought it was stupid to worry you guys.”

“i get that,” chan sighed. “but at the moment, we can’t take any risks, okay? tell us straight away if this happens again.”

she nodded, before lifting herself up to go back to bed - much to the surprise of the two boys next to her.

“where are you going? you can stay here with us tonight if you want.” jeongin offered, the worry clear on his features, but (y/n) shook her head.

“honestly, i need to sleep. sorry for interrupting you guys.” she smiled, waving before she left the room.

much to her amusement - which she desperately needed in that moment, she managed to catch the way both boys’ faces flushed scarlet as she closed the door.

—-------------------------------------------------

when she woke up that morning, (y/n) could’ve honestly sworn she’d had the best night sleep ever. until she felt how damp her pillow was, how swollen her face was, and reality came crashing back down on her.

it had only been a few days since heejin was murdered, yet everything was falling in flames and crashing around them. woodsboro was on the verge of falling apart. three young women had all been murdered in the supposed safety of their own homes, and the police had no leads.

how was anyone supposed to feel safe anymore?

when a notification dinged on her phone, (y/n) scooped it up and saw that she had received an email from the university - what the fuck? it was a list of guidelines and rules set in place to ensure the safety and security of all students.

all evening classes were canceled until further notice, and all morning and afternoon classes could be canceled if the professor deemed fit. all students living on campus would have security cameras fitting in communal areas of their dormitories, as well as camera doorbells. 

but it just seemed to get worse, or better depending on how you looked at it. no one was to go out alone - at least in pairs and groups of three. students were recommended to get their groceries through doorstep delivery. the campus was practically shutting down.

but something about the wording was off. something felt weird about it, and she just prayed that this wasn’t going to backfire or turn into something else.

pulling herself out of the comfort of her duvet, she padded down the hallway to jeongin’s room, knocking on the door softly. she opened it after she’d heard a soft voice telling her to come in, and was greeted with chan and jeongin playing xbox together quietly.

“sorry, did we wake you? i told him to stop yelling at the tv.” jeongin smiled, ushering (y/n) in where she sat on the edge of the bed cross-legged.

“did either of you get that email from the principal? all the new rules and shit.” deep down she had an inkling of the answer, but hoped she was wrong. her suspicions were confirmed when chan and jeongin looked at her confused, simultaneously pulling out their phones to refresh their emails. 

when they looked at one another and shook their heads, (y/n) scoffed. this was so typical. the principal - a misogynistic, homophobic dirtbag making it seem like women are damsels in distress. while 9y/n) could agree that women clearly needed to more careful than men, giving the current targets of the killer, but forcing them to become hermits while the male student body could roam free was unfair.

she could almost 100% guarantee the principal - and most woodsboro residents - were set on the idea of the killer being a man. which was in no way a guaranteed fact - the killer could easily be a woman. aileen wuornos, myra hindley, amelia dyer, they could all do it so what was stopping a girl from woodsboro from being capable of horrors like this. not that it was a nice thought, but (y/n) was a true crime fanatic at heart and always found it interesting to see how sexism was rooted even in the most evil of actions.

given that her point had been proven, she left chan and jeongin to carry on “gaming” as they claimed to be doing, so she could get herself ready for the day. it was finally the weekend,so the guys and herself had planned to go and visit jisung’s dorm to spend the day together as well as say goodbye to yeji.

thinking about her friend made (y/n) slightly sad, that she wouldn’t have her closest female buddy by her side on campus anymore. but honestly, she completely sympathized with yeji’s decision to move back home for the rest of the academic year. the trauma she had endured was enough to send anyone over the edge and it just wasn’t fair to keep her on campus.

she was also aware that jisung and yeji were also very capable and willing to make another go of things, and so yeji’s departure would be hard on her best friend too. but at least they had each other - jisung was always key to (y/n) maintaining her sanity while being a university student.

chan, jeongin and herself arrived at jisung’s dorm at about 1pm - enough time to relax and just be with one another before yeji’s arrived to say her goodbye’s at 6pm. and honestly, it was nice to just normal again for a minute - sitting on her friend’s couch and gossiping like normal young adults did. she found out she was the last in the group to learn of chan and jeongin’s arrangement - something she playfully attacked them for. she felt as this as occurring in her own home, she had a right to know, with a smile on her face as chan blushed and jeongin threw a cushion at her.

they eventually discussed what the new rules would mean for their weekly movie nights and biweekly games nights, deciding that it would be best to hold them all at (y/n)’s dorm for the foreseeable future - purely so she wouldn’t get in trouble if caught by campus security, they claimed, but (y/n) knew that wasn’t the case.

 as much as she refuted the idea, hating the silly little girl who needs saving narrative that movies like this seemed to force on its female characters, she also eventually agreed to the guy's protests that she wouldn’t ever be alone anymore. not at home, not between classes. 

although, she managed to beat down jisung’s argument of having someone stay in her room with her eventually, but even the boys agreed with her so she knew she’d win that fight for a glimpse of freedom.

by the time 6pm rolled around, anyone could see that jisung and (y/n) were already on the verge of crying. they’d miss yeji more than anyone else on campus, even if others tried to refute that fact.

a soft knock on the front door threw the group out of their trance, (y/n) beating everyone to it as she sprinted to the door, throwing it open. and there stood yeji - hair scraped back, eyes swollen and puffy, much more pale than (y/n) had ever seen her/ not even freshers flu fucked her up this bad, but (y/n) knew that’s what trauma could do to a person.

“my yej–” (y/n) pulled the other girl into a hug, which was gratefully reciprocated, before she dragged her to an empty bedroom to have their goodbyes in private.

“you’ll message me whenever you can, yah? and make sure you keep looking after yourself. i need you in tip-top condition for when we go away over summer, angel.” (y/n) tried to lighten the mood as much as she could, but to no avail. it was almost like yeji was a shell of the girl she used to be.

the pair spent their time just curled in each other's arms. really, they only had each other to turn to when in need of feminine advice. for (y/n), the boys were never any help so she leaned on yeji like a sister, and she supposed that yeji really was her chosen sister. as for yeji, sure she had her old roommate, but she truly felt like she found a part of herself in (y/n), and now she’d lost nari, outside of her family her friend was all she had.

as hard as it was to pull away and say goodbye for now, they both knew it was for the best. they’d always find their way back to one another - but yeji staying on campus would be unfair to herself and she needed an escape.

when (y/n) left the room, fighting to keep her tears contained, jisung pulled her into a tight hug.

“how is she?” he whispered, as if speaking louder would break the dorm from the bottom up, and (y/n) shrugged.

“she’s a mess, ji. she needs you. don’t worry about me, go see her.”

so jisung slowly walked into the bedroom, his heart breaking at yeji’s disheveled form. his soul yearned for her, for the happy-go-lucky and bubbly girl he fell in love with, although he’d love he regardless, and prayed for her sake that she could get through this.

crouching on the floor opposite where she sat, he gently took her hands in his, warming at the way she smiled at him so softly. that was the girl he knew. the girl who was still shy after knowing everything about him, and how much he’d do for her. the girl who felt she wasn’t worthy of being loved by someone she called “so perfect”, even though jisung knew it was an honor to be able to call her his girl.

he really did try hard to combat the lump in his throat, because he knew he had to be strong for yeji, but it was so, so difficult. all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and keep her forever, but he knew that wasn’t possible. so instead, he opted for the next best thing. he held her hands, and comforted her like he knew she needed.

they sat and talked for a while, just keeping the conversation light and steered away from goodbyes as long as possible. they discussed their respective summer plans, jisung boldly stating that he’d be taking the dark-haired girl on as many dates as she’d allow him to.

eventually, she migrated from the bed and they stayed holding each other in a ball on the floor - in their own little world, until yeji’s phone beeped, signaling that her sister was back to take her home.

she knew it would hurt too much to say another goodbye to (y/n), and her other friends, so she pleaded with jisung to just get her out of the apartment as quickly as possible. of course, he obliged, wanting nothing more than to keep those tears from falling down her pretty face.

once he had got her outside, politely waving to her sister in the car, he turned back to yeji with a sad smile on his face.

“text me when you’re home, okay? and i’ll come to visit you as much as you want. it’s all going to be okay, yej.”

“i know ji,” she sniffled, arms crossed as if protecting herself from the crashing waves of emotion overwhelming her. “just… look after yourself. and (y/n). and the guys. i can’t lose you guys too.”

her voice trailed off at the end, jisung pulling her into a tight hug and kissing the top of her head in a comforting manner. he stayed right where he was stood as she pulled away and got into the car. he didn’t dare move until the car had left his field of vision, just in case it was the last time he ever saw her.

finally letting the tears fall down his face, he took his time going back into the dorm and back to the group. he wouldn’t let anything else happen to his friends. he couldn’t.

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @queen-klarissa @queenfelix @taeriffic @mits-vi @myeg1993 @lemontead @peachessandhoney @chanssmiles @changbinisabigboy @5kayzee @skz-streamer @iweirdthingsblog @sinforsuccubus @bunniie0325 @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @moondustmemories @4evrglow

[blueeyedheizer]

Can we see number 14 on the Cassie Prompt list? Maybe something like ex’s hooking up? But you’re the writer so anything you decide will be amazing :) have a great day!

14 - "Come one more time for me. I know you've got it in you." | 18+ under the cut

“I hate you.” Cassie blurts out between kisses, her months-lasting efforts of trying to move on from you having just been thrown out the window. You chuckle, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit.

“Yeah? Well, your body says otherwise, baby.” you reply.

Cassie gasps, her head tipping back as you begin to move the toy around in circles, her hips pushing up against it. She grabs the sheets above her head, looking at you with parted lips.

"T-This won't happen again." The end of her sentence dissolves into a moan when you flick the speed up to the highest setting, keeping the toy against her clit and watching as her body trembles and grinds desperately against it.

"Why, 'cause you're fucking Nate now?"

"I'm in love with him." she lies, and you laugh at how ridiculous those words sound.

"Whatever you say, Cassie. He's not the one playing with your pussy right now though, is he?"

You lean down to kiss her, effectively shutting her up - the two of you muffling moans in each other’s mouths. Cassie's back arches and she breaks the kiss, your lips immediately going to her neck and sucking.

"Fuck, Y/N!"

“Yeah...you like that, don't you?" you drag the toy down her slit, teasing her a bit before sliding it back up to her clit, moving it around in circles and figure eights for more stimulation. Cassie's eyes screw shut, one of her hands sliding up her body to squeeze her breast, rolling and tugging a hardened nipple.

"Fuck, yes! I'm coming," she gasps. "I'm coming!"

One last encouragement from you and she's sent over the edge, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as she comes, her body going rigid, thighs quivering uncontrollably.

She's panting and spent when you finally turn off the vibrator but you don't give her a chance to catch her breath as you crawl down her body and immediately remplace the toy with your mouth.

"Fuck! Oh my god, fuck!" She cries out, hands scrambling to your head and curling in your hair, trying to push your head away. "Too much! Y/N, please!" But you don't relent and Cassie can't bring herself to actually do anything about it, she doesn't feel the need to use her safe word as the overstimulation quickly turns into a brand new wave of pleasure.

"Fucking missed your pussy." you mumble, detaching your lips from her for a fraction of second before returning to sucking on her clit, shaking your head from side to side for extra pleasure.

Her legs tremble as you work her with your tongue in every conceivable way. You press it flat against her vulva, licking all the way up to her clit and back down before plunging inside, the end of your nose bumping against her clit. Cassie lets out a noise somewhere between a sob and a gasp, her toes curling as she tucks a foot around your back to pull you in closer, keeping you right where you are.

"Come on baby. Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you. Show me how much your pretty pussy's missed me."

Cassie yelps as you audibly spit on her cunt before diving back in to devour her, working your lips and tongue with a determined pace. It's loud and wet and obscene and Cassie fucking loves every second of it, her nearly pornographic moans telling you everything you need to know.

Her hips have a mind of their own as they grind against your mouth; her heels digging in between your shoulder blades.

"I'm gonna come. Please — oh, fuck. I'm coming. I'm coming!" she cries out.

All you can do is hum in appreciation as you carry on eating her out, paying no attention to the slight soreness in your jaw. It isn’t long before Cassie shatters again, thighs trembling as she moans, loud and shameless. She shudders as you eagerly lap up every last drop, teasing at her oversensitive clit.

Once her breathing has evened out you kiss your way back up her body, eventually meeting her lips for a searing kiss, letting her taste herself on your tongue.

"Still wanna go back to Maddy's shit boyfriend?"

[garricks4thwingqueen]

Corn Maze X Dain Aetos

Synopsis: Spooktober prompts list: Prompt number 1 Corn Mazes. Your iron squad mates somehow manage to wrangle you into going to the corn maze.  Non rebel reader, first year basgiath set during Violet’s first year. Dain Aetos X Reader 

Trigger Warnings: Just a little swearing. 

Word Count: 1222

                                                      Y/N POV 

   It was the weekend before halloween and the whole quadrant lately had been rambling on about next weekend's halloween party. Needless to say Halloween was not your holiday; sure you didn’t mind a cute fall novel or pumpkin carving and the candy and maybe even dressing up into something cute and sexy. But you hated the gore and the horror bites that came with halloween. Even though your brother had unfortunately passed two years prior in his second year at Basgiath you hated Halloween because of him. Every year he had made it his goal to go out of his way to scare and till this day two years after his death you still get the uneasiness about this time of year. This year being your first year at Basgiath didn’t make the feeling any better. 

   “Y/N?” Imogen snapped, waving a hand in front of your face pulling you out of your trance. Ironically out of everyone in your squad you had bonded the closest with Imogen but then again maybe that was all the extra training she helped you with when you felt insecure about sparring.  

  “Hugh what?” You asked. “Corn Maze this weekend in Chantra we want to go as a squad you in?” Ridoc asked with a huge ass grin on his face from across the table. “I don’t know.” You mumbled pushing around the last bit of scrambled egg on your plate with your fork. “Come on, it's the weekend before Halloween and we are all going.” Rhi chipped in.  

  “I don’t know.” You mumbled again. “Is everything ok Y/N, you seem kinda different this week.” Violet asked. Emery gave you a soft smile from further down the table as he had grown up with you and your brother. “Halloween freaks Y/N.” He said. “Emery.” You groaned. 

  “Freaks you out? What does he mean?” Dain asked softly, making you blush as you had a slight crush on your squad leader; which you knew was wrong right?  

  Emery spoke up for you; “Her brother when he was alive made it his mission each Halloween to freak out Y/N out since she hates the blood and gore aspect of Halloween. Sometimes he even got her several times. The worst time one year was in a corn maze. It was all in good brotherly and sisterly love of course but that's why she always feels on edge before Halloween.” 

   “No you know what it’s fine. I’ll go plus none of you guys will have any chainsaws right?” You joked as they all chimed in with no’s and absolutely not. Then there was Ridoc; “I don’t could be a fun twist.” He smirked. “Ridoc, come on, we want. Y/N to join us and have fun as a squad and as squad leader I ban chainsaws.” Dain said with a soft smile in your direction. “Thanks.” You said towards Dain with a soft smile. 

                                                         -That evening- 

    You had made your way into Chantra with your squad and had started the maze about a half hour ago. “It’s not that bad right?” Imogen asked. “Umm no I guess not.” You responded to her with a slight shake in your voice. Your squad had decided to split into partners of two and made it a rule that your shields had to be up so none of you could cheat with using your dragons.  

  “I kinda wish I could communicate with my dragon though.” You mumbled making a turn to your left. “Imogen?” You asked after she didn’t respond. “Imogen it isn’t funny.”  You said turning in circles in the maze every which way. You let out a heavy sigh once you realized you lost your partner. 

  Another half hour had passed without you bumping into any of your squad mates. Great you thought to yourself just fucking great. Being lost in a corn maze was one of your worst nightmares. Even worse yet what if they all found their way out and all forgot about you; leaving you in here for who knows how much longer. You let out a soft smile and a hi as a random stranger greeted you. Great, you forgot other people were in this maze too. 

  15 minutes later you decided to actually stop wandering around and look at your surroundings and sighed once you confirmed you were completely lost. You started walking towards the turn around the right and jumped nearly two feet in the air when you felt a hand being placed on your shoulder from behind you. 

  “Relax Y/N. It’s just me.” “Oh Dain, thank the gods!” You said with relief engulfing him in a major hug. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t-” You stammered pulling away once you realized you had hugged your crush and squad leader. 

  He chuckled softly and gods that sound made you want to crumble to your knees. “It’s ok..It’s fine Y/N.” “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was so excited to see someone again I thought you guys forgot about me.” You said shyly. 

  “Y/N I said it was fine and we could never forget about you. After five minutes of Imogen coming out without you; Emery and I decided to come back in looking for you.” “Thank you! Thank you!.” You said again this time wrapping your legs around his waist and excitedly hugging him again.

 You went to bury your head in his neck when you went to apologize. “Oh my god I’m sorry Dain it again..” You said starting to loosen your grip. But what you didn’t expect was Dain tightening his grip around you and titling your chin up with his hand so you were now looking directly into his brown eyes. “Y/N. I said stop apologizing. I said it was fine. “ “Fine?” You asked softly. 

  “Yeah, in fact it’s more than fine.” He said through a soft smile. “Dain.” You whispered softly. “Yeah?” “This is wrong right? I mean your my squad leader-” He cut you off by placing his lips onto yours which you instantly relaxed and melted into his touch. “Dain.” You breathed again as you both stopped but lips were still touching. “That was-” You said at a loss for words. “Pretty great wasn't it?” He smirked as he put you down and you let him ease you back on to the ground. “Yeah you. But you know what else would be pretty great right now.”

  Dain chuckled and responded with “What?” ‘Getting me out of here.” Oh right I forgot you're terrified of corn mazes.” He teased grabbing your hand and leading you through just three turns of the maze before you were greeted with the exit and your squad.  You could help but let out some continuous giggles. “What’s so funny?” He asked, still holding your hand. “That you and Emery had to come look for me when I was that close to exiting on my own.” Dain chuckled again, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and whispered “But I’m glad I did have to.” 

  The smiles and smirks on your squad mates didn’t pass either of you, but that you thought to yourself as you settled down at the table in the pub for dinner next to Dain with your squad around you; was for another day to deal with. 

[quietblueriver]

First Date

Quick little thing. Thanks @gingerniiiija for the prompt!

-

They live on the edge for a while. There’s no war, but the threat looms, and there are too many battles, too many wraiths, new demons, an annoying number of cult-y losers who try, and fail, to pull an Adriel. Things begin to slow, although nobody is really willing to trust it, and then, one Wednesday evening, a tarask shows up to bring Ava some news.

Like an asshole, he shows up in their fucking bedroom, Beatrice out of the bed, out from under Ava, and armed within like two seconds and Ava instinctively sheltering them both in a halo bubble as she scrambles in the bed. When she realizes what’s happening, she groans, flopping back in frustration and pulling her shirt back into place.

“What the actual fuck, man?”

The messenger doesn’t answer, but his massive shoulders move and his head tilts sideways in what Ava likes to think is a flaming, otherworldly demon-ish gesture for, “My bad.”

Beatrice is close to flaming herself at this point and her glare is only mildly less intimidating with her bright red cheeks. She’s pulling her hair back into a bun and has somehow already pulled on sweatpants. Ava mourns.

“This better be good, dude. I was busy.”

It is good, in the end. It’s fucking fantastic. Ava’s crying when she sits up in bed, tosses the crown as quickly as she can before pulling Bea into her. “It’s over, Bea. It’s over. We’re done.”

- They’re not done done, of course. There are still wraiths and weird demons and whatever, still egomaniacs trying to harness supernatural shit to do bad things. But it’s at, like, a normal, manageable level, and, not for nothing, Ava’s now got a (sort of) god on (sort of) speed dial if things get really out of hand. They can relax a little. They can relax a lot, relative to the way they’d been living, and Ava’s ready. She’s got a long list of things she wants to do and she knows exactly where she’d like to start.

-

It’s not that they haven’t had any time together. They share a bed, and they’ve tried really hard to find time to be together outside of work. She has loved the little moments, where they could steal them—tucking herself into Bea’s shoulder for a movie or star-gazing on the roof or taking dinner to the garden, Bea shyly pulling candles from a backpack. She has loved them, and she wants more of them, but she also wants to take Bea into the world. Since she’s been back, every non-work trip outside of the Cradle has been a group outing—some combination of friends and novices and other OCS members. It made sense while the war was still an “any minute now” kind of thing. Safety in numbers and divine protection on her spine and all that.

No more.

She finds Cam and Mother Superion and Dora in Mother Superion’s office while Bea is training a small group of novices who are ready for more advanced sparring.

“Ava!” Camila springs up from her seat to give her a hug, standard practice regardless of the fact that they’d seen each other three hours ago. Ava welcomes it and then stands in front of Superion’s desk, arms crossed. She realizes she might look a little too serious when Superion’s brows furrow and she asks, hand reaching automatically for the spot where Ava knows she keeps a favorite knife, “Is something wrong?”

Forcing herself to relax, she moves her arms to her side and breathes out. “No. No. I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I just…I need a favor.” Superion raises a brow. “I want to take Bea on a date this weekend. In the city.”

A Goldilocks array of grins appears across the three faces in front of her.

Camila, big and beaming, claps her hands and says, “Oh, yay.” Ava smiles dopily back at her, because yeah, oh yay is right.

Superion prompts, after a moment, small but genuine smile still in place, “And how can we help?”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.”

They agree, happily, to keep an eye on things and avoid calling either of them unless it’s absolutely essential, a standard she does not have to explain. They also agree to keep it to themselves until she actually asks Bea. Camila walks out with her, asking about the details of Ava’s plan until they reach the turn for the chapel. Her chest expands as it does sometimes in moments like these, when she realizes she has a friend like Camila, who will get into it with her about plans to take her girlfriend on a date. Gratitude, big and effusive, runs through her.

“You better tell me everything.”

“Of course.” Ava lets her smile shift to something a little less wholesome, and Camila immediately rolls her eyes, pushing her shoulder.

“Not everything. You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

A hug, reflexive and familiar.

“Text me when you actually ask her,” Camila orders as she turns down the hallway.

-

Ava takes a deep breath. Her stomach flips again and she feels silly for being nervous, given that they sleep in the same bed in a very non-platonic way. But like, Bea deserves to have someone be nervous over her. My god, is she the kind of girl to be nervous over. And Ava deserves to get to be nervous over a girl, is fucking outrageously lucky to get to be nervous over Beatrice. Neither one of them got to have this when most people do. It’s a gift to get to have it now. She won’t waste it.

She lets herself enjoy the swoop in her stomach as she says, “Hey, Bea.”

“Hmm?”

They’re finishing lunch, Bea contemplating the fruit on offer for her afternoon snack. Her sharp eyes, having already found both a banana and a pear wanting, are now critically appraising an apple.

“Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?”

She feels better now, about her nerves, as Bea’s cheeks shift close to the shade of the apple in her hand. Her wide eyes meet Ava’s and suddenly she’s back in Switzerland, hoping hoping hoping—in the bar, at the farmer’s market, in their tiny kitchen, in their perfect, uncomfortable bed—that maybe the look on Bea’s face means Ava isn’t the only one in trouble.

“That.” Her voice is low and a little rough, and she clears her throat, cheeks even darker. Ava nearly bursts with affection. “That would be nice. Yes.”

Ava kisses her then, because she can, because there are some definite perks to having done basically everything backwards. Beatrice melts into it, strong shoulders relaxing as one of Ava’s arms wraps around them, the other cradling her jaw. She feels Bea’s right arm lift and then drop, limited by the apple, but her free hand settles at the small of Ava’s back. They’re still in the dining hall, even if they are relatively tucked away, so they break apart much more quickly than either of them would like. The blush is still there, but Bea’s eyes are bright with something else now, and Ava lets the halo hum a little as she steps back and reaches for Bea’s hand.

“Cool.”

[monstersinthecosmos]

September 17, 1973

Even with so much to do, Daniel sleeps in.

Sleeps long.

Wakes up in the unfamiliar room, the way he’s woken up in unfamiliar rooms every day since he left, and doesn’t panic. And there’s no real clues in here—it’s a drab, generic room like any other—with no local flare, and there isn’t some postcard experience like jazz and the smell of chicory floating in from the windows, but he knows he’s made it. 

The air conditioner buzzes and he rolls onto his side to face the window. Maybe he can watch the sunrise tomorrow, if he remembers. Maybe his days are numbered, if Lestat accepts him.

Relaxing now that he’s so close. It’s like a clarity over him, like he knows it’s too late to go back. Calmly staring ahead to his fate. Feeling rested, finally.

A tidy list forms in his head

- shower

- get dressed

- breakfast (lunch?)

- mail the manuscript

- find lestat’s?

It goes quickly enough, once he’s up. And he’s somewhat himself again, at least able to put the mask on, to act like a person. Friendly with the kid at the front desk as he asks for directions to the nearest post office, and friendly with the waiter when he gets lunch so that he can ask some questions about the Garden District. Her face is framed bouncy Farah Fawcett hair and Daniel knows if this were back in San Francisco he’d try to take her home.

And then he’s driving in loops around the neighborhood, with the map open on the passenger seat and his notes in his hand over the steering wheel. He writes down all the addresses that could be potentials, checking for Louis’s description, deciding if they look abandoned. He writes them down and circles back, twice, three times, making sure he’s got the numbers right before he heads to the conveyance office to look up land deeds.

Friendly with this woman, too, enough that he gets a smile from her despite how dour she’d been when he walked in.

Going through all the papers takes a few hours, but the impatience doesn’t creep in. No, it’s relaxing, actually. Having a task to focus on, having a goal, looking for something specific. It feels good, even in the ambiance of State-Funded-Office. All fluorescent lights and stale coffee, and the legs are uneven on his chair so that he keeps rocking, so that it keeps clicking against the floor, and a squeaking metal fan instead of air conditioning, and someone watching the local news too loud in the next room.

Feels nice. Feels real.

He ashes his cigarette into his empty Coke can as he flips through each box, looking for the addresses on the list. Pulling them out, one and a time, scanning for a current owner, and back back back. Unsure if it will be under an alias, not really sure what he’s looking for. 

It even occurs to him, an hour in, that it’s all a lie.

The neck wound throbs at the thought. 

Because, really. A clever person could write off all of his proof. The wound could be anything. And what he saw? With his own eyes? No witnesses except what the audio picked up. And he’d been drinking. 

But he finally sees the name. 

Lestat de Lioncourt. 

His whole body runs cold. He stares long enough that his cigarette burns all the way down and he spills the ashes onto the table top.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and scrambles to clean it up, the best he can. He stares at the page again. Is he charming enough to get the grumpy woman at the desk to Xerox it for him? Maybe if he asks before she realizes he got ashes everywhere.

He stares, though. Keeps staring, until his periphery is warping, until he feels the name burning into the inside of his head. Carving itself there. 

“I found you,” he whispers. 

[previous day] | [next day]

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

cigarette smoke

read on ao3

There was a lot of shit that Dally wouldn’t put up with. Light beer, wet hair, and cops were just a few of them on a never ending list. But the number one thing he wouldn’t put up with was someone fucking with his people. 

More than any of the others, Johnny and Ponyboy were his.

Johnny knew that and told Dally multiple times not to mess with his parents. Just because he didn’t want the kid to deal with the cops or social workers, Dally agreed. That didn’t mean it made it easier to see Johnny with bruises and cuts and cigarette burns. Johnny was just a kid, he did nothing to deserve any of it. He didn’t have nightmares like Pony, but he shrank in on himself, flinched and loud voices and fast hands. 

Yet there was part of him that got used to seeing Johnny battered and bruised, as much as he hated it. Once you see something enough times, it becomes commonplace. Even bruises on his little brother’s face.

With Ponyboy it was different. No one was used to seeing him hurt. Because of Darry, socs tended to leave him alone. His home life was the best of all of the boys. That was why Dally felt such fury welling inside him when Johnny told him that Darry had hit Ponyboy.

“Dally?” Johnny asked nervously. They were sitting in the lot, just the two of them. The fire was starting to die down, but Dally could still see his face. Johnny curled in on himself, thinking he might have done something wrong. 

“Who else knows?” Dally asked, trying his best to disguise the anger in his voice and knowing he was failing.

Johnny shrugged with one shoulder, “I dunno. Soda I think.”

Dally ran a hand over his hair. “If he did it once, he’ll do it again. Maybe he already has.” 

He took a long drag of his cigarette and then threw it into the fire. As the flames swallowed it, he thought about Darry. That boy loved his brothers more than anything, it didn’t make sense. Why would Darry ever hurt Ponyboy? But Johnny wouldn’t lie to him and Ponyboy wouldn’t lie to Johnny. 

The Curtis house was supposed to be safe. It was a refuge for all of the boys. And now it wasn’t safe, not for anyone, especially not for Pony and Soda.

Dally stood up, brushing off his pants. “I’ll be right back, kid.”

Johnny scrambled to his feet, quickly following. “Where are you going?”

“To get Pony and Soda,” Dally said, he turned up the collar of his coat, pretending it was armor. “They’re not staying in that house with him one more night.” He started to walk off towards the Curtis house.

“Dal, you gotta think this through-” 

“I ain’t got nothing to think about,” Dally snapped, not slowing down. Johnny stayed in his peripheral vision. “You won’t let me protect you, I can damn fucking protect them.” Johnny tried again to get him to stop, but Dally just kept walking. 

The lights were on in the house, golden light spilling onto the overgrown front lawn and rusted fence. He could hear voices coming from inside, loud laughter over the TV playing cartoons. Instead of opening the gate, Dally hopped over it. Since Johnny’s back wasn’t fully healed, he couldn’t follow suit. 

When Dallyopened the door, he found Steve and Soda lounging on the couch, eating a bowl of M&Ms. Darry was sitting in his usual chair, reading the newspaper, circling things, maybe jobs. Ponyboy laid on the floor, writing in his notebook with a textbook open next to it. 

When Dally stormed in, everyone turned to look at him. Pony and Darry looked alarmed, but the two boys on the couch just smiled. “Heya, Dal,” Soda said. “There’s some dinner in the fridge-”

“Soda, Pony get over here,” Dally cut him off. It must have been the commanding tone of his voice, but Ponyboy stood to his feet and walked over to Dally. 

“What’s going on?” Ponyboy asked. “What happened?” The kid’s face was pale. 

Dally stepped in front of Pony, using his arm to shove him back. “Soda, come here. We’re leaving. Now.”

It was then that Darry stood up. His brow was furrowed, tension seeping into his shoulders. “Dally, what’s going on?”

Dally took a step back, making Pony move with him. “How many times have you hit Ponyboy? Huh? What about Soda?” 

Darry looked like he himself had been slapped and Ponyboy’s hands gripped the back of Dally’s jacket. Dally knew it was out of fear. The room was silent for a long moment, no one daring to breathe or move. 

Darry swallowed thickly, “I-”

“He didn’t mean to,” Pony said softly. 

“Of course he fucking didn’t,” Dally growled. No one ever meant to it was always an accident . “Soda, come here. I’m getting the two of you out of here.”

Darry’s eyes flicked to Steve and Soda, “Steve, can you make sure that Johnny’s okay?” 

Steve looked between the oldest boys and then nodded, knowing better than to get in the middle of whatever was happening. He gave Soda’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and told him to call him in the morning. With Soda agreeing, Steve slipped out the front door. 

Darry dragged a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “On the night Bob was killed, I-I hit Pony.” Dally all but snarled at Darry at the admission. “I won’t ever do it again, I didn’t mean to then.”

“I don’t believe you.” Dally turned to Soda who looked like a startled deer. He was still sitting on the couch, every muscle in his body tense. “Soda-”

“Stop it!” Soda said, jumping to his feet and looking at Dally accusingly. “Dally, you don’t know a thing about what happened. You can’t come in here and force Pony and I to leave with you.”

“It’s not safe here,” Dally countered.

“It is,” Pony insisted. He ducked under Dally’s arm and backed up until he was at Soda’s side. Soda pulled Pony against him like he was afraid of Dally taking him away.. “I-I know what it sounds like, but he really didn’t mean to do it. The safest place for Soda and me is with Darry.”

Behind his two brothers, Darry looked like he was either going to vomit or burst into tears. But Pony and Soda had nothing in their eyes but conviction. Dally nodded, “The second that changes, you come to me. I’ll help you.” 

Soda reached out and squeezed Dally’s arm, “You’re a good guy, Dal.” Dally nodded and left, leaving the house.

As the screen door slammed shut behind Dally, it took everything in Darry not to break down right then. But it had to wait until he was alone, he wouldn’t let either of his brothers witness it. There was no small part of him that agreed with Dally. What kind of monster hit his kid brother?

“Darry?” He looked up to see Ponyboy and Soda looking at him hesitantly. Ponyboy clung to Soda’s arm. Seeing his anxiety broke Darry’s heart; his brother shouldn’t look at him like that, not ever. 

He took a moment of quiet before saying, “He’s not wrong. If you don’t feel safe here, with-with me, then I’d want you to go. I’d give you as much money as possible, anything you need.”

“Why’s he saying that?” Pony asked Soda softly. 

Soda looked right at Darry as he answered, “Because he’s all brawn and no brain.” Soda walked right up to Darry, whacked him gently on the back of the head and hugged him tight around the middle. Darry’s breath caught in his throat. A moment later, Ponyboy did the same, tucking his head against Darry’s shoulder. 

“We ain’t leaving you,” Soda said, finding the words for him and Pony. “How many times do we have to go over this?”

Darry laughed a little, pulling out of the embrace to look at both his brothers. They looked up at him with trust, with love, none of which he could understand. He failed them, he’d been failing them for so long. And yet they stayed. He loved those two more than anything in the world, he would do anything for them, including let them go if that's what they needed. 

Darry cupped Pony’s face in his hands, “The three of us, yeah?”

Pony nodded, “We’re all we got.” Soda brought the three of their heads together affectionately. 

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 11

Oh no! Cursed! And also a ghost! But mostly the cursed part.

(master post)

Part 11

Eddie went back to the main table, where Jeff and Dustin had worked out a plan for buying a scroll. Lucas talked about setting everything up in the graveyard, and they were ready to have Dustin use the scroll. They confirmed that they definitely didn’t want the paladin to use it, and Eddie could tell from the look Jeff gave him that it was because they didn’t trust him not to screw it up intentionally. 

Eddie had to work very hard to keep a serious look on his face the whole time. Jeff and Dustin argued over which skill to use, but eventually they successfully cast it. When they turned to him to ask questions of the ghost, he smirked a little.

“Lucas, make me a roll against your constitution,” Eddie said. He leaned over the table to look at what Lucas rolled. It came out very low, and Eddie whistled. 

Lucas looked genuinely scared. “Is that bad?” 

Eddie rolled some dice of his own, just as confirmation that he should move the plot in this direction. His results looked better than Lucas’s. To the players, he said, “Well, the first thing the ghost tells you is that you should be paying attention to the cursed girl. Sadie’s eyes have rolled back in her head. Lucas, you’re in a trance. Guys, good luck!” 

The group all flew into a panic, and Eddie settled back into his chair and watched with glee. Eventually, he got them calmed down enough to treat it like combat. The only trick was that there was no one to fight. He had a certain set of stages that Lucas’s character would go through, and he wrote down how many rounds it would take to get to each. Lucas couldn’t do anything in the meantime, and his friends scrambled to figure out how to help. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dustin said. He looked at Jeff. “What do we do?”

Jeff threw his hands up. “What does Joe think?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. He rolled some dice. “Joe is just as clueless and freaked out as the rest of you are.”

“We don’t know how to fix this!” Dustin screeched. “It’s too soon.”

“Ask the ghost!” Lucas yelled, slamming his hands against the table.

“Lucas,” Eddie said in a warning tone. “You’re in a trance. You can’t speak.”

“Yeah, but Gaten would know to ask the damn ghost he’s talking to,” Lucas said. He glared at Dustin.

“Shit, you’re right. What does the ghost know? Can he help us?” 

“Crap,” Lucas said. “What if he doesn’t want to? He and Sadie were cousins but they weren’t friends. What if he’s bitter that we let the demons kill him?”

Dustin whipped off his cap and smacked Lucas with it. “Don’t jinx it!” he yelled. 

“Is that what you’re doing this round?” Eddie asked. “Trying to get help from the ghost of Sadie’s cousin... What did I name him?” 

“Dacre,” Dustin said. “And yes. If he knows something, he has to tell us. We get a certain number of questions to ask him and he has to answer to the best of his knowledge.” He kept his voice level but he spoke very fast, like he was focusing all his anxiety into recollecting the spell rules.

“Yeah, Dustybun, I know how it works. You get four questions. I’ll give you him telling you Sadie was cursed as a freebie.” 

Dustin, Lucas, and Jeff put their heads together to come up with a list of possible questions. Eddie sat back and let them discuss it. Grant and Gareth had come back to the table. Eddie wouldn’t let them sit back down until the party had regrouped, so they just hovered behind the other three and watched anxiously. 

“Are you really going to kill Sadie off right now?” Gareth asked. “Can’t we do something?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Don’t metagame, dude. You wanted to split the party. You’re not there.”

“Fuck,” Gareth said. He and Grant looked at each other. “We have no idea that they’re in trouble, but we need to get them this information, right?”

“What fucking information?” Grant said. “All we know is that it required divine intervention to pull someone out of the curse. Natalia’s the only cleric we have. She’d have to get there, figure out the right cleric spell, and literally pray the demon away. And we don’t even know what’s going on!” He huffed and glared at Eddie. “You’re really sadistic, you know that?” 

“I know,” Eddie said proudly. He turned back to Dustin. “What questions are you asking the ghost of dear old Dacre, Gaten?” 

“Okay, first question,” Dustin said. “Does he know how to stop what’s happening to Sadie right now? And I want to make it clear that this means I want to keep her from dying, but I would love to get her uncursed or no longer targeted or whatever. Out of character! Do I need to come up with specific wording for this question to keep him from screwing us?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not a damn wish, Dustin. He knows what you mean and if he’s going to be an ass about it, it’s because he’s an asshole, not a rules lawyer.” 

“Okay, then what does he say about fixing this?” 

“He says he does not know how to stop her from dying, but that if you let the same things that killed him kill his cousin then he’s going to fucking haunt you.” 

“Oh shit, extra information,” Gareth said. “He confirmed it’s the same demon.” 

“We’re not there,” Grant said. “We don’t know that yet.”

“Yeah, but they’re going to fill us in later. It’s fine.” 

“First of all, we already knew it was from the same demonic place,” Lucas said. “Second of all, he said ‘things’, plural. Not ‘thing’. So more than one thing is involved here. He didn’t clear up anything, he’s just confirming that they’re related.”

“Shit, he’s right,” Gareth said. He glared at Eddie. “Sadist.” 

Dustin refocused the group. “Should we ask for more information about the demon?”

Eddie grinned. “Are you asking the ghost if you should ask him for more—”

“No!” Dustin snapped. “We’re still out of character here! Jesus.” He snorted in annoyance.

“We should stop wasting time,” Jeff said. “If we don’t do something, Sadie is going to die.”

“Yeah!” Lucas yelled. He sounded frantic. “This isn’t the kind of game where you just roll up a new character, guys! Think of something already!” 

“Okay! Okay, just give me a second,” Dustin said. 

“One round down, guys,” Eddie said. “Who knows how many more you have before Sadie starts to float...”

“Shit,” Dustin said. Eddie grinned. The ticking clock of combat was entirely made-up but it still worked to stress his players out. “Uh, okay, my next question is: Do you know anyone who has survived this curse?”

Eddie forced the grin off his face and tried to look serious. He deepened his voice a little and straightened his back. “No. I’ve never seen this before. I’ve been dead, remember?” 

Dustin had slipped fully into character as well. “Then how do you know that what’s attacking her is the same demon or demons that killed you?”

Eddie snorted. “What the fuck else would it be? It’s a demonic presence attacking teenagers in Kiteshire. You guys might’ve closed the portals but it’s not like you killed the thing on the other side of them. It was bound to happen.” He slipped out of the voice. “That’s two more questions down and two more rounds gone. Sadie’s twitching and her head tilts back to stare at the sky.”

“He’s not telling us anything we don’t know already,” Jeff said. “This is a waste of time.” 

Dustin counted on his fingers. “Fuck, we only have one question left. I should just not ask it and leave this asshole trapped between death and undeath.” He rolled his eyes and added, “Bet you’d hate that, wouldn’t you?” 

Eddie laughed and slipped back into the ghost voice. “Yeah, I would have. Too late now, sucker. Try not to let my cousin die,” he said. 

“Wait!” Dustin yelled.

“And with that, his ghost vanishes,” Eddie said. “And another round has passed. What are you doing next? Sadie is looking more and more cursed by the second.”

“Well, shit,” Jeff said. “Good job, Dustin.”

“That was supposed to be out of character,” Dustin said. 

“That was supposed to be out of character,” Eddie mocked. “You’re lucky I’m still letting you speak out of character at all, Dustybuns. Now get on with it before I tick off another round.”

“Fuck. We need to get in contact with Natalia and Maya,” Dustin said. “Where are they? Are they close?”

Lucas rolled his eyes so hard that Eddie thought he was imitating his character for a moment. “Dude, you’re a bard. Use magic.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right. Uhhhh...” Dustin grabbed one of the books and started flipping through the pages. “I’ve got nothing but druid spells though. Nothing for long distance communication! Fuck!” 

“Summon something,” Jeff said. “Birds or something that can go find them.”

“Shit, yes, I can do that,” Dustin said. “Okay, I want to use Animal Summoning I to summon birds that will carry a message to Natalia and Maya to tell them that Sadie is cursed and we need their information.” 

“Granted,” Eddie said. “You can do that. It’ll take some time.” 

“Caleb and Joe can write up the messages while I’m summoning them,” Dustin said. “They’ll include where we are and that it’s dire.”

“Dire indeed,” Eddie said. “The birds arrive and grab the messages, then fly off in every direction, looking for your remaining two party members. Who, of course, have no idea where you are.”

“We include location in the note, but it’ll be faster to send a reply by bird,” said Jeff. 

“Do we see the birds?” Gareth asked. 

Eddie raised his eyebrows at Gareth. “Are you looking for birds for some reason, Gare-bear?” 

“God damn it, Eddie,” Gareth said. “It’s not like we have any magical communication devices.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you split the party, Gare.” Eddie rolled some dice. “Okay, a bird finds you. We’ll pretend this will all work out. What are you writing back, specifically?”

“Specifically? Oh shit,” Gareth said. “There’s a trick to this.”

Eddie sighed and rubbed his forehead. He watched Gareth and Grant put their heads together and whisper to each other. “Time’s a tickin’, boys,” he said, tapping his watch. He looked back at the ones sitting at the table. “Are you guys doing anything other than waiting for the birds to get back?”

“I mean, praying?” Dustin said with a shrug. “I think we’re out of ideas. Joe has cleric spells, right? Can he cast anything?”

“Anything in particular you want him to cast?” Eddie asked. “He mostly focuses on healing and protection spells.” 

“Protection from Evil?” Lucas suggested. “Or maybe Augury, to see if we’re on the right track?” 

“I’ll give you a Prot-Evil at the beginning from him, since that’s a no-brainer. It had no effect.” 

“Shit. Okay, then have him cast Augury,” Dustin said.

“That’ll just tell you if you’re on the right track, but sure. He can start casting that and you can work on a question while he’s casting it.”

Grant and Gareth wrote down their message on a spare sheet of paper. Once they agreed on what they were saying, they passed it to Eddie. “We attach that to the bird, and then we try to follow it back.”

“It gets there faster than you will,” Eddie said. He quickly read the note over. They had included as many minor details as they could remember. He rolled it back up and passed it to Dustin. “By the time the bird gets back to the graveyard, Sadie has started to float in the air. What are you doing now?”

Dustin spread the note out on the table and he, Jeff, and Lucas read it together. “Okay, this says that the madman was trapped in the curse, but that he got out because of an angel singing,” Dustin said. “But it specifically says he heard an angel singing in his hallucination, so it could have been divine intervention, or it could have been environmental.” 

“Is Joe ready with his Augury?” Jeff asked. 

“Yep. You got a question for the gods?” 

Jeff rubbed his chin. “Ask if there’s any action we can actually take at this point to save her.” 

“Seriously?” Dustin gave Jeff a disbelieving look. “That’s it? That’s what you want from the gods?”

“Either it’s up to us, or it’s up to them,” Jeff said with a shrug. “Which would determine if it’s...”

Dustin snapped his fingers. “Divine or environmental! Shit, you’re right.” They turned back to Eddie and waited.

Eddie sighed. “The gods indicate that there is something you can do, if you can just figure out what.”

“Environmental!” Dustin said. “If we can reproduce the environment of the last time someone snapped out of the curse.”

Eddie ticked off another round from his sheet. “Sadie rises higher above the ground. Her arms and legs stretch out from her body, going rigid.”

“Guys!” Lucas yelled. “We don’t know anything about the environment of the madman. He was hallucinating.”

“But he heard an angel singing! Which might mean he just heard music,” Dustin said. He turned back to Eddie. “I’m a bard! I can sing to her and play my lute!”

Eddie grinned. “And what do you sing, my bardic friend?”

“And Caleb would know her favorite song!” Jeff said. “He has to know it. He’s the closest one to her. He’ll tell Gaten—”

Dustin jumped to his feet. “And I know that Gaten can play it. I get out my lute and start strumming and singing for my life.” He grinned. “Well, for Sadie’s life.”

Eddie grabbed his dice and nodded for Dustin to get his. “Roll high, my friend.” 

The boy grabbed his D20 and rolled it across the table. It bounced and landed on a sixteen. Eddie rolled his behind the screen, but he was able to honestly say that it beat his twelve. He only held a stern face at them for a moment longer, to make them worry. “Sadie twitches, her arms turn out at an odd angle, and then.... She wakes! And drops to the ground, unbroken.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Lucas said. The whole group relaxed. Eddie gave them a moment to regroup, and had Grant and Gareth rejoin the table. They described what else they’d learned from Sir Englund.

Tagging by request: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam

[serenailith]

yesterday’s gone (we’ll make it through)—xxviii

on ao3 here

previous | next

When Hob awakes, he is in his own bed. Alone. He had expected as much, given that Dream is now all-powerful in his realm once more. His time is better served dealing with the Dreaming. But the sight of the empty half of the mattress nonetheless hurts.

Hob blows out a slow breath and rolls over onto his back. It seems as if the time spent in the Dreaming has helped ease some of the aches left after Hell; it’s nice to breathe without feeling like his lungs are on the verge of collapse. His skin, however, still bears the ghosts of Dream’s touch. He can smell the crisp scent that always clings to Dream, can taste the wintertime and starlight on his lips.

His moment of silent mourning is broken by the shrill beeping of his alarm. Hob startles, flailing a bit before he manages to scoop up his phone. He’s been so caught up in Dream that he had forgotten he has a job to do. Shutting off the alarm, he tosses the phone to the mattress beside him and stares at the ceiling.

They had talked, actually talked, last night in the Dreaming. It had taken all of Hob’s willpower to not steamroll right over Dream. He wanted to continue calling Dream an enormous arse, a foolish idiot, and any number of things to point out exactly how ridiculous Dream was for shutting him out–both physically and figuratively. Even if Dream hadn’t been certain whether Hob still needed space, he could have sent Matthew to ask.

Or would that have felt weird and undignified to Dream?

No matter.

He’d let Hob into his chambers, and they talked. He admitted to his shortcomings and flaws, proclaimed his steadfast love, and announced his plans to–

“Oh, fuck.”

Dream plans on going to Hell. Alone. It’s for a damn good reason, Hob has to admit: Releasing a wrongfully-imprisoned soul is always cause to go out of one’s way. But to face Lucifer on his own? Is Dream utterly mad?

“Dream?” Hob scrambles to kneel on the bed, looking around the room as if expecting the Endless to appear in a swirl of sand. “I don’t–I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I really would like to speak to you.”

There is no response. Hob waits for nearly ten minutes until his “you are going to be late if you don’t get out of bed now” alarm rings. Sighing, he climbs out of bed and resigns himself to getting ready for work. If it takes him a few tries to button up his shirt, well, no one needs to know. He’ll also keep it to himself that he put salt in his coffee instead of sugar; that’s an embarrassment he’d rather save himself from.

He’s halfway across campus when a heavy weight lands on his shoulder. He nearly drops the papers in his hand but manages at the last second to keep a hold of them. When he turns his head, it’s to see a somewhat familiar breast of black feathers.

“Got somewhere we can talk?”

Hob raises a brow even as he points to his office window. The raven immediately flies off, wing smacking Hob’s cheek on the way, and Hob huffs out a laugh. The amusement is short-lived, however. That Matthew is here in the Waking and Dream isn’t is disconcerting, to say the least. Has Lucienne sent Matthew with a message, some sort of warning?

Unbearable news from Dream’s journey to Hell?

Hob’s heart sinks in his chest, and he can scarcely breathe. He stares at the ground before him, unable to put one foot in front of the other. Has something happened to Dream? Hob should never have let him go to Hell again, not by himself. He should have. . . What? What could Hob have done? There is nothing, but damn it, Dream can’t—

“Professor? Is everything okay?”

Hob lists to the side, leans heavily against the frozen bark of a tree. The student stares at him from under furrowed brows. She pushes blonde hair behind her ear and steps forward. Her full lips turn down in the corners.

“You really don’t look well, Professor, maybe you should sit down. Should I phone someone?”

“I’m–I’m fine,” Hob manages, and the young woman’s expression turns incredulous. He waves a hand in the air, shaking his head. “Just. . . No need to worry.”

“Sir–”

“Really, I’ll be okay. You should get to class.”

She hesitates but then nods. Hefting her bag further onto her shoulder, she takes one step, glances back over her shoulder, then strides away. Hob gasps in breaths that burn, fire in his lungs, and struggles to maintain control over himself. He doesn’t know why Matthew is here–it could just be another visit to complain about something Dream has done, though Hob doubts it.

He’d talked to the bird outside the cathedral and before Hob’s entrance to the Dreaming, but that doesn’t mean they’re close. Certainly not close enough that Matthew would find Hob at his work of all places and ask for a private chat.

Though talking in private does afford Hob the opportunity to not look like he’s gone mad by talking to a raven in the middle of campus.

After another minute or two of dragging in shaky breaths, Hob pushes himself away from the tree. His knees barely hold his weight as he stalks toward the building. He can see a small black blob waiting on the windowsill of his office, and he tries to hurry. His fingers tighten around the papers in his grip; he’d forgotten he was carrying them, or what they even are anymore.

Matthew flutters in with a muttered “Finally!” once Hob reaches his office, locks the door behind him, and pushes open the window. Dropping into his seat, Hob scrubs a hand over his face before pinning the raven with a Look. Matthew seems unaffected, only ruffling his wings as he hops across the desk.

“Where is Dream?”

“Lord Morpheus? He, uh, he went to Hell.”

“I figured as much.”

“Okay, so you know that. Awesome. Luce and I thought you wouldn’t. Anyway. He left for Hell a few hours ago, wouldn’t let me go with him. So I was hoping maybe you could tell me why he’s gone back to Hell like an idiot!”

“Unfortunately, I can’t.” Hob holds up a hand when Matthew scoffs and rustles his feathers. “It’s his business, and I doubt it would go over well, me telling others what his plans are.”

“Aren’t you worried, though?”

“I’m fucking terrified.”

It should be awkward unpacking his emotions for a bird to examine, but Matthew had been human before his death. Or so he had said the night they met. And raven or not, his own feelings toward Dream’s “storming into Hell” plan are displayed close to the surface, easy to read by someone who feels much the same way. So Hob stops questioning reality and admits:

“If he doesn’t come back. . . The world loses much more than it did last time. And selfishly? I lose more than that.”

I lose a reason for living.

Even in 1689, when Hob had had nothing after Eleanor and Robyn and the drowning, he had his meetings with his Stranger to look forward to. To count on. He’d wondered, during the hunger-filled days, if his Stranger would find fault with him for having lost everything. He had let himself imagine kindnesses the Stranger might bestow upon him, but no pair of eyes was ever quite blue-grey enough to lose himself in the daydreams. No one was as kind as his mind hoped, so each fuck was tantamount to nothing more than a way to make enough to pay for dinner.

There was never enough, but Hob never stopped hoping. He relied on the imagined kindnesses to get through the years before the meeting, and he let himself keep dreaming of more than a few hours tucked away in a tavern talking about the past century. Those dreams got him through many a dreadful night.

It’s a wonder it took so long to realise it’s love and has been for a long while.

Matthew goes back to the Dreaming twenty minutes later. Hob stares out at the campus beyond the window and wonders if he can get away with skiving off for the day. But no. he has responsibilities, and being sat at home waiting for something sounds like a terrible way to pass the time. He’d only spend the hours worrying more than he already is, overthinking himself into a panic. He has to keep his wits about him.

Maybe he can find Dream again in the Dreaming tonight.

Unfortunately, life has other plans. Hob tries his damnedest, but the Dreaming remains locked to him. He has had dreamless nights before, it’s nothing new. He’s welcomed nights of no dreams many times, if only to rid himself of the nightmares plaguing his sleep. But this feels different. This feels. . . It feels intentional. Almost personal.

He fights to convince himself everything will be normal tomorrow. He has to believe that this is just some sort of misunderstanding–or maybe it’s Dream’s orders that no one enter the Dreaming while he’s in Hell.

Hob has to believe it. He has to.

So he pretends he’s fine, that his world still spins appropriately, as he lectures in class or has a few pints with his friends before turning in for yet another dreamless few hours. One night has turned to three, and now the fourth is shaping up to be a repeat.

Matthew hasn’t come back, though Hob hadn’t really expected him to. He’s more of a Dreaming thing, not meant for the Waking, but it was nice to have some company even for a short while. It was nice to have a semblance of a connection to Dream while Dream ran off to release Nada.

He stands in front of his bedroom window, staring at the sky. The streetlamp below has blown out; a long strip of darkness cloaks the street between halos of orange-yellow on the pavement. There are stars visible in the sky tonight, weak but shining nonetheless. His breath steams against the glass, but Hob pays it no mind.

“Where are you, my love?” he whispers though he knows Dream isn’t in the stars. The stars are in Dream’s eyes.

They’re so far away from Hob, out of his reach, and he claps a hand over his mouth at the first broken noise bubbling free. It does nothing to quell the sound, and sob after sob pours forth as if a dam has broken. He squeezes his eyes shut against the hot burning, curls in on himself until his forehead hits cold glass, and clenches his fist around the hem of his T-shirt.

He can no longer deny the reality.

Dream is not coming back.

[elfwreck]

Things ChatGPT might actually be good for:

First drafts of business contracts - they'll need serious review, but they might substantially cut down the necessary lawyer time.

First drafts of company handbooks - for those, most companies want them written in boilerplate & autocomplete. They can touch up the sections that make their company unique, but a general policy of "wear business clothing at the office" does not need creativity.

Code. Lots of coders are using AI. You ask it to make code that does a function, and it throws some code at you, and you put it into the program and test it. And as noted, since it's a bullshit autocomplete generator, sometimes the code doesn't work. That's fine. You keep the part that does and ask for a new version of the part that doesn't. Saves hours of writing and tinkering with tiny bits of phrasing. [feel free to insert rant here about how code is practical and should not be covered by copyright, but that's a whole separate issue.]

Solo TTRPG - players are using AI chat programs to generate location descriptions, encounters with NPCs, magic items, and so on. There is a problem with this - you don't get new & innovative stuff from ChatGPT - but if what you wanted was "just gimme 250 words about The Spooky Castle On The Hill," it's great.

Interesting random item lists - Remember before ChatGPT when people would post "AI-generated list of Harry Potter spells" and so on? Or lists of song titles? If you want prompts to spark your creativity, AI may be able to come up with those.

Extrapolative reports based on data - you feed it charts and numbers and it tells you in plain language what they show. Right now, this would need heavy review - as noted, the damn AI will LIE ABOUT DATA. But. "Check this two-page synopsis for lies" may be a lot faster than "review all of your data and write a two-page synopsis from scratch."

In time, Chatbot AIs may be able to come up with decent story summaries - you feed it the fic; it gives you a one-paragraph description. You decide how much of that to use, and whether to change it because the focus you want is something else.

Item #1 - drafts of business contracts - is so fucking useful that, on its own, that would guarantee the chatbots are never going away.

What chatGPT will never be good for:

Creating fiction. Some fic authors have noted that "I keep feeding it shipping starters, and it keeps turning them into het when the romance kicks in." Because it's been trained on half a million het romance novels and maybe a scant handful of other ones. It recognizes the shape of "romance story" and knows that those involve a boy kissing a girl. And it's got similar problems with every other mainstream fiction genre. It mixes what already exists; it can't do groundbreaking. The closest it gets is "mixes two different likely-cliche tropes in a way that you, personally, have not seen before." And you could use that as a base for a good story, but ChatGPT can't, because other than the occasional flash of "huh I've never seen those two pieces next to each other," it's going to fall back into its "same as it ever was" rut.

Creating new art. See above. Same problem. It's getting used to "make art" now, because unlike fiction, there's a lot of art individuals haven't seen. I have not read all the Harlequin Romance novels ever... but I have read enough of them to be familiar with their tropes; books with those tropes are boring. I have not seen all the Dragons Flying Over Mountains art ever - AND a scramble of existing tropes is still going to look interesting to me. But like fiction: other than the occasional "wow, you can put BOTH of those together on a page???" moment, it's not making anything new. It's not combining symbols in a way that's meant to hit your deep psyche; it's not starting with a familiar, almost cliche setting and adding the one element that will make you rethink the background.

Anything for business beyond the first draft level. Even when they get better - even when they get frighteningly good - any company that relies on AI-generated contracts, handbooks, tutorials, or reports is setting itself up for (a) lawsuits and (b) financial ruin. Because the AI is not a person, does not have business priorities, does not actually have the ability to "comply with the law" when it sets up a contract.

(Give it three years and wait for the hilarious lawsuit when one company sues another over some clause buried in the AI-generated contract that nobody noticed until some intern pointed it out at a board meeting.)

Just on a whim, because I know that Alcibiades is one of the weirdest and funniest characters in ancient Greek history, I asked ChatGPT "What's the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did?"

ChatGPT came back with the details of something Alcibiades (henceforth referred to as 'Alci' so I don't have to keep typing it out) was accused of, but acquitted of.

When I pointed out that he had been acquitted and may not have actually done this thing, Chat GPT apologised and said, "yes, he was acquitted", and then went on to tell me that, nonetheless, the event was significant because it made Alci flee the city.

Alci did not flee the city, he was sent away on a military expedition, which was exactly what he'd wanted and asked for. When I pointed that out, ChatGPT apologised again for being wrong.

I asked again for weird things he might actually have done, and was told one version of a story I've heard before about how Alci stole some stuff from a friend. ChatGPT's version was different from what I'd heard, though, so I mentioned that, and only then did ChatGPT acknowledge that there were different versions of the story. As part of its apology and correction, ChatGPT said that it did not always have access to all information - but then proceeded to provide details of the version of the story I'd heard before, showing that it did, in fact, have access to that information.

I asked again, what is the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did? ChatGPT gave me an answer, which was a story I'd never heard before, so I asked for a source. ChatGPT told me it was in Plutarch's Lives, and I presumed it was in his Life of Alcibiades, so that's where I looked. When I said I couldn't find it there, ChatGPT told me, sorry for not being specific, it was actually in Plutarch's Life of Nicias. So I went and read Plutarch's Life of Nicias and couldn't find it.

So I told ChatGPT that I couldn't find the story in that book, could it please be more specific? What I was hoping for was a chapter or page number or something, I just presumed I'd missed it.

ChatGPT came back with "no, actually it's not in that book, it may be a later invention, there is no concrete evidence for this story."

TL;DR: ChatGPT cannot be trusted. Even when it does give you a source, it can be wrong. It has no capacity to evaluate the accuracy or likely accuracy of the information it gives you. It will present you with wrong or debatable information and give you absolutely no indication that it may not be correct, or that other versions or interpretations are possible.

[percontaion-points]

Covet (Crave #3) prologue, chapters 1-3

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Prologue

But as my eyes meet Jaxon’s cold, dark ones, I can’t help acknowledging that while one thing hasn’t changed, everything else has. 

And I have no idea what to do about any of it.

Prologue summary: As Grace gets ready for Xavier’s memorial, she thinks about the plot of the previous two books. Macy comes out from the bathroom, and she’s so stricken with grief that Grace has no idea what to even say to her. Macy usually uses magic to make her hair bright pink or any number of unnatural colors, but now, she’s turned it black. As they leave their room, they find that all of the other named characters are waiting for them. And things are stupid awkward between her and Jaxon now. 

Chapter 1

“I still don’t know how I ended up mated to Hudson,” I say dully. “I thought you had to be interested in being mated, or at least ‘open’ to it, for it to happen in the first place?” 

Macy grins at me. “Clearly you feel something for him.” 

I roll my eyes. “Gratitude. I feel gratitude for him. And I’m pretty sure that’s a terrible reason to hook up.”

Look, I’ve read my fair share of both YA and romance novels. On the list of “terrible reasons to hook up”, feeling grateful for them is a lot better than half of the books that I’ve read. 

In fact, she’s actually one of the few people who blames Jaxon for our mating bond being severed, and she’s let it be known she is firmly Team Hudson.

To be honest, I’m team Hudson. Jaxon is a horrible, toxic person, and I felt actual relief once Grace was freed from being forever bonded to him. 

“Oh, right. One. Of course.” Macy shoots me a sly look. “Sooooo, just to be clear. Which vampire is that exactly?

Chapter 1 summary: 3 weeks have passed since the prologue, and everybody is real mopy about that. Macy lounges around and teases Grace about her love triangle drama, by way of reminding the readers of it. Then Grace bitches about not only being a gargoyle, but also winning a spot on the council… also by way of reminding the readers. Having finished catching everybody up on the things that actually matter, Grace sinks into moping. Not about Xavier, but about the drama about her, Jaxon, and Hudson. 

Finally, Macy tells Grace that she doesn’t have to do this alone. Especially not while she’s juggling 2 boyfriends. Grace says that she’s only got one, but Macy demands to know which one. 

Chapter 2

…and missing four months while I did my best impression of a waterspout…

I’m sorry, but this is fucking hilarious. 

“She says it’s so that we all get a more well-rounded knowledge of the different parts of history, but I think she’s just trying to torture us.”

Oh no. How dare a teacher try to make you into well-rounded individuals. 

“Yes, but you’re the only one to ever have a mating bond severed by something other than death.”

I get that Jaxon got it from the Bloodletter… But at the same time, how did that other boy look at it and know exactly what it was if it’s such a rare, old spell?

“But if that’s true, and mating bonds never break, why exactly was there a spell to break mine? And how did the Bloodletter just happen to know it?”

Chapter 2 summary: Since Grace missed so much school, she’s scrambling to catch up and graduate on time. Which means doing a lot of extra credit assignments. She says that one teacher assigned them to research something not discussed in class, and make a presentation about it. Macy says that Grace could talk about herself, and Grace thinks that she’s talking about being a gargoyle. But Macy points out about how in the history of 5ever, not one single person has had a mating bond broken like that. Grace thinks that it doesn’t add up, since Jaxon got the spell from the Bloodletter… and where did that spell even come from? How did she know it would work?

Chapter 3

 I mean, what could they possibly serve to engender this kind of disgust in my cousin? Eye of newt? Toe of frog?

I really want to make sure that the author understands that stuff like “eye of newt” was ye olde tyme-y code. “Eye of newt” is mustard seed, and “toe of frog” is buttercup. 

They give me identical looks of horror as they both answer at the same time. “The vampires.”

Chapter 3 summary: On the way down to dinner, Macy complains that it’s “Wingo” night, so the kitchen witches are off for the night. She then has to explain what the fresh hell “Wingo” even is. 

It’s basically witch bingo, but instead of putting a stamp on your bingo card, you drink a MYSTERY POTION. Some of them will turn you into a chicken, others will make you dance nonstop, etc etc. 

Flint interrupts Macy’s explanation, and is kind of upset to hear that it’s Wingo night. It’s apparently a big deal to the students, since the food in the kitchen is really gross on those nights. Macy insists that he has to go with them. As the three of them go, Grace asks what could possibly be worse than canned green beans served in a public high school cafeteria. Macy and Flint answer in unison that the vampires do the cooking tonight. Which… okay, but why?

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?