#fourth wing masterpost

[skyfallscotland]

For the 'Basgiath (Remi's Version)' masterpost click here 🖤

Everything else ⤸

Fics:

Macchiato (Xaden/Violet, AU, 30k words)

keep quiet (nothing comes as easy as you) (Xaden/Violet, AU, 17k words)

The State of Rider-Flier Relations (Mira/Drake, 12.5k words)

hold me tight, or don't (Sloane/Dain, 6k words)

in too deep (Xaden/Violet, AU, WIP)

Ficlets:

Untitled Cam/Liam (AU, 1.5k words)

In-depth summaries below the cut ⤸

Fics:

Macchiato

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail ✧ AU ✧ 30k words, complete

“F—” Fuck you, is what I was going to say, but at the last minute I realise he’s still a customer and I need to remain professional…and also I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he irritates me. (A Xaden/Violet coffee shop AU)

keep quiet (nothing comes as easy as you)

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail ✧ AU ✧ 17k words, complete...for now—potential for an interconnected one-shot or two

In a world where the Tyrrish haven’t rebelled, Xaden Riorson is an aristocrat and therefore must enrol in the infantry—which definitely explains how he ends up on his knees before Violet Sorrengail in the Hadden Woods, his face between her thighs. Totally.

The State of Rider-Flier Relations

Mira Sorrengail/Drake Cordella ✧ AU ✧ 12.5k words, complete — potential riorgail companion fic to come

“So you’re the one who gave me that scar.” I stare, uncomprehending. “What?” I manage to bite out. He lifts a hand, tapping his finger over the scar trailing from his ear to his collarbone, a match for the one I’d had clawed into me by a gryphon just like his. I bite down on my tongue as I think about the mirror of a burn long-since healed, that mars the skin of my torso. A scar that every man or woman I’ve ever taken to bed since has commented on. And he’s worried about a line on the side of his neck? My blood boils.

hold me tight, or don't

Sloane Mairi/Dain Aetos ✧ NSFW one-shot ✧ 6k words, complete

“Fuck, you’re exhausting.” She huffed and he tried not to take it personally. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park, Mairi.” She bared her teeth at him. “Put your mouth back on me,” she tugged on his hair harshly for emphasis, “or I’ll make you regret it.”

in too deep

Violet Sorrengail/Xaden Riorson ✧ AU ✧ WIP, projected to be 50k+

When Violet Sorrengail is eighteen years old, her olympic dreams turn to dust and she swears to never attend another swim meet again. Six years later, she’s reinvented herself. As the best media manager Scribed has to offer, she’s well-traveled, well-paid and entirely content with life.   Enter Xaden Riorson—olympian, gold medallist, world record holder…devil incarnate. No one’s ever gotten under Violet’s skin quite like him. From the moment they met she’s hated him, so when Violet’s co-worker is forced to vacate her position with Team USA and she finds herself in Paris, she swears to stay as far away from him as possible.  Unfortunately, he never got the memo.

Ficlets:

Untitled Cam/Liam

AU ✧ 1.5k words, potential series.

“Are you asking to get me alone?” The Tyrr’s lips curve up in a smirk. “Would you like that?” The prince fires back. He would actually.

[shipmistress9]

ShipMistress' Fourth Wing Masterpost

Find my other fanfictions here or on AO3. 

If you end up reading any of my (older) fics: I’d LOVE to get feedback, comments, reviews, reactions. 💜

* Updates

Home (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- t-rated

After months of separation, Violet and Xaden meet again when they least expect it. Just a short ficlet based on a kissing prompt from Tumblr.

In Control (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated -- D/s dynamics

“Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.” Once, Xaden didn't want Violet to take a look into his armoire, and she joked that she already knew all of his clothes. Little did she know about what he really kept hidden there. Further down their relationship, Xaden eventually shows her his collection of sex toys and bondage gear, and Violet is more than just a little intrigued. But... she brave enough to give up control?

“I don’t want to think.” (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

In the days after the events of Fourth Wing, Xaden suffers an intense kind of longing he never knew before as Violet refuses to talk to him. But as it seems, she can't stay away from him forever, either.

A Soft Reunion (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

After spending months infiltrating Basgiath, Violet returns to Aretia, to Xaden, only to find that he's been attacked by venin and has been unconscious for days.

Kinktober collection

Not Playing Fair (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

Xaden uses his shadow powers to tease Violet until neither of them can resist the temptation anymore.

Leather-clad Temptation (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

One day, Violet Sorrengail will be the death of me. But maybe, if death comes in thigh-high boots then it might not be such a bad thing.

Little Kitten (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

Sometimes, Violet needs her head to stop thinking and stop going in circles. Luckily, Xaden provided her with just the perfect way to accomplish that.

Part of our "Us" (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden -- E-rated

“Look, Liam. Obviously, I’m not here as your Wingleader. This is not an order. It’s not even a request. It’s an offer and nothing more. If you’re interested, great. If not, no hard feelings. It’s entirely up to you.” Yeah, right. I scoff. As if he can invite me to a fucking threesome and think it wouldn’t change anything between us. Back when living in Tirvainne, Xaden and Liam were closer than anyone knows or even guesses. Now at Basgiath, Liam isn't sure what to expect when Xaden invites him to a threesome with Violet. It's not that much different from what they used to do--except maybe that Liam's feelings for both of them grew far beyond friendship by now. In which Liam slowly learns to overcome his insecurities--and maybe finds more than just hot sex.

Stranger In The Woods (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated

What if Tyrrendor's rebellion was successful? What if Xaden became a Gryphon flier instead of a Dragon rider? What if the bond that tethered Violet and him together still existed? Sometimes, the attraction one feels toward a stranger-an enemy even-can be too strong to resist. Or... is it all just a game?

An Unconventional Solution (AO3)

Violet/Tairn - E-rated

To keep her promise to Liam, Violet has to return to Basgiath, the one place Xaden, marked as a traitor and enemy #1, can't follow. But how can they pull that off without straining the bonds between them and their dragons? Tairn offers a solution--albeit a rather unconventional one...

How To Make It Fit (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - E-rated

Continuation of Part of our "Us". Liam followed Xaden's and Violet's invitation to join them for a threesome. He's not so sure Violet can actually take both his and Xaden's cock at the same time, but if it's what she wants... He surely won't go and tell her what she can or can't do.

Intense (AO3)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated - Rape/Non-con elements /cnc

Violet wants to try something new, and even though Xaden is hesitant, he agrees… In the dark of the night, Violet gets kidnapped by a masked stranger, drugged, and brought to an unused storage cellar. Will she be able to hold out until rescue comes or will he break her having his way with her?

Teasing With Serious Consequences (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violer - E-rated

Violet is set on getting Xaden to fuck her, no matter how much she has to tease him before he snaps.

Making Up For Missed Opportunities (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Liam - E-rated

After the night Liam spent with Xaden and Violet, he wonders whether he'd enjoy getting Dominated by Xaden, too. Xaden promises him nothing short of the best orgasm of his life.

An Entertaining Inconvenience (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated

When a leadership meeting interrupts Xaden and Violet in the middle of their fun, Violet comes up with a creative idea to make the best of the situation. And the best it is, insane, daring, and just... incredibly hot. Xaden learns a new thing or two. One, a few new tricks he can do with his shadows, and two, how much unresolved tension he can take before he cracks.

Easing Tension And Worries (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam - E-rated

After the night they spent together as three and the one Liam spent with Xaden, the sexual tension between Liam and Violet grows stronger with every day. Something has to give, and soon. But will he finally be able to accept that they want him for more than just sex?

Serious Consequences (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - E-rated

This is the continuation of "Teasing With Serious Consequences" (obviously, haha, I think I'm being funny 😁). After teasing Xaden all day, Violet might push her luck a little too far. Although, given how much she enjoys her 'punishment', that might not be such a bad thing.

The Betrayed God (AO3)

Violet/Xaden -- Violet/Malek T-rated

The legends talk about three brothers and about oneof them betraying them all. But that is only half of the story. The darker half is yet to be told. Setup for a story in which Xaden is Malek trapped in a human body and Violet his lost bride.

Some Things Will Never Change (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - T-rated

Just a soft morning, years after the events of the books.

My Kingdom. My Throne. My Queen. (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - M-rated

What if venin didn't exist and the only problems Xaden and Violet had to deal with were normal ones? After winning Tyrrendor's independence, the Assembly forces Xaden to make a difficult choice. But even though the Assembly doesn't want to see it, it's Violet's choice, too.

* Nothing to Hide (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - T-rated

It's Liam’s birthday. And Violet and Xaden have their own idea of giving him a birthday gift. After all, they have nothing to hide. Or: The triad kissing meme turned into a fic. 😊

* For whatever it's worth (AO3) (Tumblr)

Liam/Xaden - E-rated

The morning after the night Liam spent with Xaden and letting him Dominate him. Now, Xaden finally has his mind clear enough to examine his feelings. And he's done holding them back.

* What's a Threeps (AO3)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - M-rated

Liam survived Resson and everyone celebrates after graduation. Xaden still has to leave for Samara, though, but at least that gives them the weekends to look forward to. A short written for the rq-discord's challenge prompt.

* I don't believe in the Gods anymore (AO3)

Xaden/Violet - T-rated

After another too-short night, Xaden has to leave for another patrol. This is just some andom short because I felt crying, okay?

* Made to Order (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - T-rated

Xaden Riorson owns a bakery specialised on wedding cakes. He's good at his job, always has an eye for details and with a sixth sense for what it is his customers are looking for. But when a woman clearly not happy with the upcoming wedding breeezes into his shop (and his life) he has a hard time staying professional.

* Fool me once... - A 'Made to Order' story (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - M-rated

Six months have passed since 'the wedding'. Violet and Xaden are happy together, have grown into their relationship, and are about to take the next step. Then another formal even brings back bad memories for Violet, and she finally confides into Xaden about what happened all those months ago.

* Drunk on You - A 'Made to Order' story (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - M-rated

Violet and Xaden spend the night after the wedding together, and there's a lot of pent-up longing to work through. -- This story takes place directly after the end of the main story. I recommend reading the precious parts of the series before this one, but I guess it's not strictly neccessary. Violet and Xaden spend the night after the wedding together, and there's a lot of pent-up longing to work through. -- This story takes place directly after the end of the main story. I recommend reading the precious parts of the series before this one, but I guess it's not strictly neccessary.

* It Was Never Supposed To Be (AO3) (Tumblr)

Imogen/Dain - T-rated

Dain and Imogen are more than just squadmates. Their first months, challenges, the gauntlet, and threshing made a spark develop between them, one neither of them can resist. But when Dain's signet develops in a moment of intimacy and he sees a memory he shouldn't have seen, Imogen is left with only one choice. Kill the man who is slowly becoming more than just a friend to her, or everything is lost. Or… is there an alternative?

[v3lv3tf0x]

𝓻𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼

𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂:

Stranger Things The Last Of Us Alice In Borderland Scream(1) Spider-Verse(both movies) Jujutsu Kaisen Fruits Basket Avatar(both movies) Genshin Impact Game of Thrones House of the Dragon ACOTAR The Empyrean The Young Elites This may update

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔:

NSFW SFW Gore Angst ABO Age gaps We will write for character x OC but give a detailed description Character x Reader Character x Character All sexualities and genders Anything unless stated otherwise (or if we do not feel comfortable)

𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒔:

Incest Piss/scat/vomit play Requests that are ONLY non-con If we do not feel comfortable with your request, we will let you know

𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓:

Please do not tell us how long you want your request to be We are very open to writing anything, if it is not stated in the rules, please do not hesitate to ask If you have a request for media that is not on the list, feel free to ask if we will write for it

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[katakaluptastrophy]

Masterpost of TLT metas

This is mostly for my own reference, as tagging doesn't seem to guarantee something being findable on Tumblr...but if you like wildly overthinking lesbian necromancers in space, enjoy!

Overthinking the Fifth House:

What is a "Speaker to the Dead"?

Actually, Magnus Quinn isn't terrible at sword fighting

Imperial complicity: Abigail the First

Pyschopomp: Abigail Pent and Hecate

Did Teacher conspire with Cytherea to kill the Fifth?

What does the Fifth House actually do?

The Fourth and the Fifth can never just be family

Cytherea's political observations at the anniversary dinner

Abigail Pent's affect: ghosts and autism

Were the Fourth wards of the Fifth?

Abigail probably knew most of the scions as children

Magnus Quinn's very understandable anger

Fifth House necromancy is not neat and tidy

Are Abigail and Magnus an exception to the exploitative nature of cavaliership?

"Abigail Pent literally brought her husband and look where that got her" (the Fifth in TUG)

The Fifth's relationship dynamic

The Fifth's relationship is unconventional in a number of ways

The queer-coding of Abigail and Magnus' relationship

Abigail and Palamedes, and knowing in the River

Was Isaac the ward of the Fifth?

Did Magnus manage to draw his sword before Cytherea killed him? (and why he probably had to watch his wife die)

How did Abigail know she was murdered by a Lyctor?

Fifth House necromancy is straight out of the Odyssey

The politics of the anniversary dinner

Was Magnus born outside of the Dominicus system?

Overthinking John Gaius:

The one time John was happy was playing Jesus

Is Alecto's body made from John's?

Are there atheists in the Nine Houses?

Why isn't John's daughter a necromancer?

The horrors of love go both ways: why John could have asked Alecto 'what have you done to me?'

Why M- may have really hoped John was on drugs

What is it with guys called Jo(h)n and getting disintegrated? (John and Dr Manhattan)

John's conference call with his CIA handlers

Watching your friend turn into an eldritch horror

Why does G1deon look so weird? (Jod regrew him from an arm)

When is a friendship bracelet not a friendship bracelet?

Why did John have G1deon hunt Harrow? (with bonus update)

The 'indelible' sin of Lyctorhood and John's shoddy plagiarism of Catholicism

Are John Gaius and Abigail Pent so different?

What was Jod's plan at Canaan House?

John and Ianthe tread the Eightfold path

The Mithraeum is more than a joke about cows

When was John Gaius born? (And another)

John Gaius and the tragic Orestes

John and Jesus writing sins in the sand

John and Nona's echoing chapters

John's motivations

Overthinking the Nine Houses:

'No retainers, no attendants, no domestics'

Funerary customs and the violence of John's silence

Juno Zeta and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time

The horror of the River bubble

Every instance of 'is this how it happens' in HTN

Feudalism is still shitty even if you make it queer and sex positive

How do stele work?

Thought crime in the Nine Houses

The Houses have a population the size of Canada

What must it be like to fight the Houses?

You know what can't have been fun? Merv wing's megatruck on Varun day...

Augustine's very Catholic hobby (decorating skeletons)

Necromancers are not thin in a conventionally attractive way

Matching the Houses with the planets of the solar system

Why don't the Nine Houses have (consistent) vaccination or varifocals?

How would the Houses react to the deaths at Canaan House?

How does Wake understand her own name (languages over 10,000 years)

What pre-resurrection texts are known in the Houses?

Camilla and Palamedes very Platonic relationship

The horrors the Cohort found at Canaan House

Do the Houses understand the tech keeping them alive?

Overthinking House religion:

What do the Houses believe about death?

Was M's nun a Franciscan?

Cavaliership and arbitrary socio-religious structures

Ritual scarification

Sacraments and sacramentals

What did Silas think god wanted at Canaan House?

In defense of Silas

There's no such thing as a 'good' necro/cav relationship

Veiling and shaving in Ninth House cult practice

Tongue-in-cheek thoughts on Eighth and Sixth religion

A very long deep-dive on House belief and practice

Overthinking Harrowhark Nonagesimus:

'The meat of your meat...belonged to god' and 'that is how meat loves meat'

The horror of parental touch: Harrow, John Gaius, and Abigail Pent

Why is Harrow so obsessed with Abigail's hands?

Frontline Titties of the Fifth and transgressive necro/cav relationships

Harrow, Wake, and permeability of the soul in HTN

Bible studies for weird queer necromancers:

Epiphany: revealing god's child to the wider world

The Holy Innocents and the creche massacre

The Virgin Mary and Commander Wake

John Gaius and John the Baptist

Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection

What's the significance of Paul?

St Paul's theology of gender and sexuality and the House theology of cavaliership

Maundy Thursday: consuming another for eternal life

Harrow and the Harrowing of Hell

[writers-potion]

Plotting Tips for Romantasy 𓆩🖤𓆪

Check out my masterpost for more tips :)

Okay, What IS romantasy?

Generally speaking, romantasy is a commercial subgenere that provides equal weightage to romance and fantasy.

If you can remove one side of the plot and still have a complete story, you may not be fulfilling genre expectations.

To summerize:

Romantic Fantasy = Fantasy + Romantic subplot

Fantasy ROmance = Romance + Fantasy subplot

Romantasy = Romance + Fantasy

Balancing Romance and Fantasy Elements

Combine two or more tropes from each genre.

Romantasy is all about an interesting mix-and-match. Think of your favorite romance/fantasy tropes, then marry them:

Enemies to Lovers discover a Portal to Faerieland in their Contemporary Office setting.

Grumpy and Sunshine accidentally anger a Troupe of vengeful witches while on a Road Trip

a Second Chance Couple is thrown into a Forced Proximity in order to plant hunt, and she must keep her Botanical Magical Powers a super-secret from him.

2. Integrate the two plots into one another.

The best way to juggle with two different plots is to integrate them into one another. For example,

Romance as a prerequisite for using magic: e.g. only when a witch meets her soulmate will se be able to use her wand.

Love between characters threatens the fantasy world. e.g. forbidden love between two magical species has now become a full-blown war.

Romance between non-human characters. The key is to remind your readers of the fantasy elemnts by giving the characters nonhuman conflicts, personalisties and values.

Common Genre Tropes for Romantasy

A female lens: The readership is largely made up of women - they want to read narratives that foreground women and their stories. Where the heroine loves the hero, the love interest should be likable.

Strong heroine who saves the day: Most common in books by women for women this includes fewer damsels in distress and plenty of dames doing the saving.

Enemies-to-lovers: This trope has plenty of scope for inter-species prejudices and love across (literal) battle lines, which is a common must in fantasy.

Friendship and found family: Portraying relationships from a romantics AND fantasy point of view is important. The hero who begins as the cool, aloof longer must eventually become part of a collective even if that's only through their partner.

Elemental magic: Who wouldn't want to be able to hurl fireballs or lightening bolts? It would be useful in a lovers' fight, too.

Popular Romantasy Books 📚

The best way to understand the genre norms is to read it for yourself!

A Court of Throns and Roses (Sarah J. Maas)

Fourth Wing (Rebecca Yarros)

Stardust (Neil Gaiman)

The Paper Magician (Charlie Holmberg)

A Promise of Fire (Amanda Bouchet)

The Paper Magician (Charlie Holmberg)

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Hello!

Masterpost! Masterpost! Masterpost!

In short, almost everyone else in the fandom has one of these, and I love feeling included, so I decided to make masterpost for my blog!

My name is Helena, and I'm 21. My goal is to write and publish my own original works (I've actually written one book already, but publishing is hard!), but I also might go to grad school next year. I love coffee and getting little treats. I do a lot of yoga, I read a ton of books then journal my thoughts on them, and I absolutely fell in love with Fourth Wing this past February.

Fics!

One Night, And Then Another

ONATA was originally written for the fourth wing birthday bash, but a lot of people in the comments asked for more, so I decided to expand the universe into a full length fic! ONATA is complete at 103K words.

Here, Violet has some slightly stalkerish tendencies, and a mild Xaden Riorson obsession (she's just like me for real). But, when Liam sets Violet and Xaden up on a blind date, Violet realizes that Xaden's the key to unravelling the mystery behind her brother and father's deaths. She has to decide if answers are worth the risk of getting close to him. Spoiler alert: they are.

Along with One Night, And Then Another, there's One Night, which is a prequel/prologue of sorts (in that it details the Riorgail one night stand that created the dramatic tension in ONATA) but the two fics can be read in any order. (16K)

I also have my RQ gift exchange fic, in which Imogen and Garrick share a tender moment mid-Iron Flame: Homesick

My prompt was quite literally Immrick and romance, and I like to think I delivered! (6K)

I also have my first fic ever written for this fandom: Of Mothers and Storms

This is a super short work which was basically an excuse to drop in on what life might be like for Violet and Xaden post-war, post-Venin, and post-Navarre. (1K)

And last, but certainly not least, I have some X/V/L porn (though, there are definitely feelings involved, and maybe a teeny tiny sprinkle of plot? If you squint?)

to soothe and be soothed (7k)

I love Xaden, Violet, and Liam together! This scene haunted me for days until I wrote it down.

My road trip fic, On The Road Again (WIP, 30k) in which Xaden and Violet go on a road trip to rescue Bodoc, and deal with feelings!! Also, it IS named after the One Direction tour, not that literally anyone has asked.

Anyway, that's all for now! I'm really hoping to make some friends on here and to chat with everyone more. We have such a lovely fandom community growing, and I really want to be apart of it in a more active way.

I have some other WIPs that I'd LOVE to yap about, such as a plane crash AU, a little Riorgail multiverse fic, and a seasonal/holidays through the seasons series that will explore all of our favorite couples.

I don't have an update schedule, and I'm lucky enough to spend a lot of my summer travelling, but I won't abandon these fics or this fandom, I promise. I have absolutely no idea what I will end up using this blog for, but I'm so excited to find out, and to hopefully connect with more people soon.

[rq-gift-exchange]

Squad Birthday Party Masterpost

1st Wing

Happy Birthday, Violet by @housetomte

Birthday Parties are for All by Nivaria

I Loved & I Lost You by @greeneyedwildthing

The Birthday Party by Portjules

Birthday Wishes by @sarahydeart

Do Vegetables have Birthdays? by ILoveMyThighs

Squad Birthday

2nd Wing

Birthday Party by @alltoowellread

A Silver and Gold Birthday

A Surprise Birthday by Fireheart_Rose

A Celebration in Chantara by @quihi

Happy Birthday to You

Squad Birthday Party

3rd Wing

Birthday Girl by @taumoebaa

Nobody Likes You When You're 23 by @yanny-77

I'm Not Feeling 22 by EmJay

A Birthday for Everyone by @oh-no-its-dragons

Surprise, Surprise by AttieRQ

For the Moment by @korrinamoe

Bella's 18th Birthday by titanicbeforetheiceburg

Capricorn, December 21 by gemmaspumpkins

4th Wing

Squad Birthday Party

Fourth Wing Surprise! by Scarlet_Aeon

Baby's First Birthday by @acourtofladydeath

Nothing to Hide by @shipmistress9

Darlin' by @alexandia03

Your Turtle is Blue by Nedeit

Turtles have things called birthdays? by @vanthh

Missing Birthday Boy

[silentiaray]

Meet beautiful characters of one of the most talented artists of my community - Mussy_Zefirchik!

Masterpost

Lycoris / Cory A judge, who knows all laws by heart. Studied law prior to the catastrophe and is quite successful in his field on the Moon. Quartz's deputy. In his work he is cold-blooded and unemotional, he's all after justice and honesty, and exceptionally complicated cases attract him the most. Is good at psychology. He's often found at his desk with some paperwork or discussing with his colleagues. In his free time Lycoris prefers to read or to pursue his hobby - butterflies. This harsh at first glance judge has a passion for studying alates, he also has a small collection at home. His high level allows him to modify his wings from time to time, to mimic his favorite specimens. In communication he's calm, keeps eye contact and often straightforward, but tactful. If you're close enough - Lycoris won't mind smiling and discussing something fleeting and close to his heart.

Yukki One of the olds who survived the disaster. Kind, sometimes cunning and doesn’t mind helping with advice. The character of a ringtail often manifests itself in slight carelessness, but he is accustomed to approach his work meticulously. At the fourth level, he lost his mentor, but survived, taking refuge in the remote corners of the Glass Desert - the place of his birth. Remembering the landscapes of the Desert and the tall glass columns, he decided that he would become a glazier. Using moon sand as a material, Yukki created various glass items, wanting to lighten the mood of those around him with bright colors. For a long time it was just a game, but closer to the ninth level it became a profession. Now he creates glass for window frames and showcases, tiles, stained glass and many other products, helping in architecture. The hobby is not far from the business - Yukki often makes vases and small glass decorations, which he is always ready to give to those who wish. He has a ward named Maple. At first, the newly made mentor had a burning desire to pass on his skills “from hand to hand,” but their desires in choosing a profession diverged. Despite this, he is not angry. On the contrary, he is proud and glad of the independent choice of his ward.

Maple The owner of a small tea house called "Warmth". Despite the rather “noisy” composition, she has a calm and extremely friendly character. She always wanted to create a cozy nook where slimes can relax after a hard day or just have a peaceful conversation with each other. Some slimes say that they simply can't imagine her without a cup of strong brewed tea in her paw. The unusual look of her horns is her own unique fire mutation.

Pumpkin / Pum Since childhood, he was very curious and often hot-tempered. Because of his mentor’s hobby, he liked books and often asked to read them, even if they contained scary stories or abstruse phrases. Gradually this grew into an incredible rush to learn as much as possible. He can be called well-read, but this fact did not bring him much benefit. Pumpkin wanted to try himself in many things, to find something special and pleasant, but found it hard to decide what he really wanted to work with. Now Pum only helps his mentor on the night shift in the tea house, snacking on various sweets and talking with visitors. His relationships with others are very soft. He loves to listen and share rumors, and occasionally scares kids if they make too much noise. He treats Maple like an “auntie” and is a little jealous of her unusual horns.

Jasper Yukki's second ward. Extremely joyful kid, who likes to explore everything around him, especially his master's workshop. Loves to interact with slimes a bit older than him, because they know and can tell more. Already interested in joining community, making friends indiscriminately. You've definitely seen this bun at least once a day! Growing up he didn't receive any Fire or Boom plorts, because Yukki didn't want to repeat his previous mistake, so he let his ward pick his own path. But it seems those worries were in vain, Jasper questions his mentor non-stop about his workshop and glassware in general; frequently helps with little things in the workshop. It's not very hard to guess which plort he wants to get next.

[spontaneousglitterbees]

Stop It. Get Some Help.

[AU Masterpost]

“I know you’re there, Momota. Not sure what part of ‘I-can-smell-deception-fifteen-miles-out’ you still aren’t getting.”

Kaito sighs, shoulders slumped as he slinks into Kokichi’s line of sight.

“Do you really have nothing better to do than stalk little ol’ me? Would it help if I set off a skylight every time your favorite damsel’s in distress? Everyone already knows about your hero complex, but I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist too,” Kokichi sneers, leaning on his cane. He twists his left hand around the grip idly.

“Damn it, Ouma, can you just let someone care about you for five minutes?”

“It was ONE TIME!” Kokichi shouts, a little shocked by the way his voice reverberates down the hall. It’s more than their class now. Eyes on him, eyes he doesn’t know; eyes he can verify are really there this time. They stare, and he stares back. Needlepoints of pain prick into his nerves, each momentary glance searing his spine. He shakes his head, rounding the corner, walking away. He would at least try to run, had he not just had a very unpleasant, very public reminder of why he shouldn’t. “I didn’t ask you to care about me.”

Kaito scoffs, picking up pace in pursuit. He never can leave well-enough alone, can he?

“Yeah, I know, you’d rather choke, threats’n scary noises. I’ve met you. And I can speak Kokichi well enough to know the closest translation of ‘maybe I can fall back on my friends occasionally’ seems to be 'I need you to kill me, Kaito, it’ll be great! Swearsies.'”

Ouma pauses, feigning deep thought. Both hands stay glued to the head of his cane; he shifts all his weight onto it, daring to lean forward. If it has to be there, he may as well make it a part of his mannerisms. He’d much rather look a top-hat and waistcoat away from vaudeville than vulnerable. It’s go big or go home, as they say, and it’s not like Class 79 even has that much choice anymore. He tilts his head, even without a curious finger to the corner of his lip.

“So mean, Momota-chan,” he frowns a bit too big for his face, nary a crease toward the eyes. Fake? Yes, but more importantly deliberate. “A real hero wouldn’t be so chipper! You’re supposed to get all Dark and Broody about it,” he shrugs, contempt dripping from every syllable. The mask of carefree indifference has flown from his face, and rather than pick up its scattered shards Kokichi decides to walk a little faster. Maybe if he rambles on enough, Kaito will lose interest and leave him be.

“About how deeply it damaged your soul, forever, to have to get blood on your hands, and how much Pain it puts you in to know you’ve taken a life, and once a quorum of girls and at least a good fourth of the guys are throwing themselves at you, THEN you can think about the monster you had to slay to make it happen. Haven’t you ever read a book? Ever? I seriously think it might not have happened, ever.”

Ouma glances to his side.

Shit.

Kaito isn’t sure precisely when they took a turn in the opposite direction of their next class (and, in fact, towards a wing of the school that’s near-empty at this hour.) He is sure, however, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. “Aren’t you bored of that line yet?”

“Which one?” Kokichi asks, a small lilt at the end of the phrase covering up just how hard he’s breathing.

Not that Momota is doing any better. Dumbass.

“Harping on about exactly how stupid you think I am! Which is rich, by the way, considering I got tailored to advance space travel and they made you an actual clown,” he huffs, crossing his arms. Despite all better instincts telling him not to engage, maybe even to bail completely, Kaito Momota doubles down. He slides down the wall of the elevator’s enclave where Kokichi’s decided to set up shop, landing not five feet from the boy picking at the various stickers wrapped around his cane.

“You bet they did~!” Kokichi smiles as usual, though the mischief and malice are replaced with. With.

… pity?

Something with a bitter aftertaste, the matching laugh clawing its way out from his throat.

“Certified Clown Around Town, thanks much. It’s good to be appreciated, you should try it sometime!” violet eyes widen, coming into focus for the first time this whole conversation exclusively to unnerve Kaito. It may have even worked a week ago, but now?

Now Kaito has seen what those eyes really look like as they stare death in the face. This is less than child’s play, as far as threats go. It would be insulting, really, had he not noticed that Kokichi only looks away to conceal how big his pupils have gotten. “Oh, I do. All the time.”

“Sidekicks are subordinates, they don’t count! Of course they’ll kiss the ground you walk on, they’re obsessed with you,” Kokichi huffs, this strangled nishishishishi into the side of his hand. “They wouldn’t put up with you otherwise!”

“… Co-dependent, maybe, but it’s not like that’s their fault.” Kaito sighs. The concession comes quickly; a peace offering in the form of self-awareness he’s been building lately.

“Yeah, 'cuz it’s yours~!” Kokichi cracks himself up, holding his forehead.

A flat palm turns into a fist, white at the knuckles. Eyes dulled, staring straight ahead, his voice comes to tremble. “But that’s a lie. At most you enable them, I think, which. There’s really nothin’ like the feeling of having your team here’n-now’n-all-together, is there?” He half-mumbles, not particularly concerned with being heard. “They need space. You are supposed to be the space expert, at least, so really we’ve got nobody better to play the part, do we.” Under his breath, he mouths: “I’d be a hypocrite, telling you not to chase that feeling.”

Kaito sits up a little bit straighter. It feels uncanny, seeing his friend so. Empty. Like a stage spot-lit before the set has been built, walking in on rehearsal while the actors still have their scripts in-hand. When Kokichi is lost in thought— genuinely lost in thought, without an escape route in mind— his ‘true’ self shines through a bit. It has only ever seemed cold, calculating, unfeeling in the split-second glances he’s caught through the crack in the wall of artifice between them, but the look on Kokichi’s face now, it’s… wistful. Longing. More human than Kaito wanted to admit to himself. The hangar was not a fluke. Kokichi Ouma, for all his insistence otherwise, is as much a scared, lonely kid as any of them.

Now they have to find a way to live with that.

He does not know if the people Kokichi misses are out there, somewhere, in that wide, wild world outside. He does not know if they ever existed. He is certain that Kokichi doesn't want to.

A long silence passes between them.

Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars and typically-reasonably-punctual student, half-considers taking Kokichi by the shoulder, helping him up, and walking them both back to class. Really, he thinks to himself. What was he even doing out here—

Of course, then he takes a look at Kokichi, and that plan is instantly scrapped.

“Kichi. Hey, Kokichi. You okay, dude?”

Of course not, but it feels wrong not to ask.

" 'o’wway," he mumbles, voice hitching, shoulders heaving with the slightest breath. Rather than merely distant, his eyes seem glassy, too used to this by now to show anything but numb.

“Hell no! Kichi, are you— stupid question, damn it, where were you going?” Kaito will never hear the end of it if Kokichi wakes up outside one of his 'safe zone’s. Kokichi, at least, takes a good few seconds too long to register first the question, then that Kaito noticed enough of his habits to ask.

“Dorm,” comes the answer, too meek not to have an immediate backpedal to re-assert himself. Yet here we are.

“Wh— Kichi the dorms aren’t anywhere close to here, did you f—”

“I TOOK A WRONG TURN!” Kokichi screams, the sound bouncing from wall-to-wall of this abandoned corridor. He crosses his arms over his head, face blocked by his elbows. "ALRIGHT? I just, wanted, to get where people aren’t, and I shortcut through here all the time even if it's a longer walk because nobody’s in my way, and then you show up —!"

The tears pricking the corners of his eyes look unnatural on him. They seem real, haphazard and unintentional, a byproduct of Too Much happening at once. Kaito is the only witness. Even that, to Kokichi, is too much.

“Okay. Okay, got it, I’ll take off in a minute, just hang on. I’ll get you to Tsumiki, she’ll know what to—”

“NO!!”

Well. That settles that.

“ 'm not, fucking, I-I-I-don’t need you, Momota,” he heaves as he suddenly insists on climbing back up to standing, slamming the elevator button with the base of his palm. “Will you quit babysitting me if I pinkie swear not to do anything stupid? …Unless it’s really funny?”

Kokichi does not wait for an answer, practically throwing himself into the elevator and pressing the ‘Close Door’ button as hard as he can. Naturally, the door takes its sweet time closing, Kaito trailing behind the boy.

Unsurprising. Still, he’s a little disappointed.

The door shuts before them with a solid k-Klang. Even fully expecting it, Ouma winces a little. To his mild shock, Kaito does too.

“… H-eh. You’re just that dedicated to playing hooky with me, huh Momo-chan?” Kokichi smiles, and it is obviously forced. But it’s no longer Kaito he’s trying to convince, is it?

Oh good, he’s Momo-chan again. Step in the right direction. “Hmm, maybe. I take my job very seriously now, SHSL Babysitter’s got to play the part.”

Wrong thing to say, apparently, a crestfallen Ouma smashing every floor button on the control panel with a swipe of his hand. This should be a while.

“What! You started it, are you going to get on my case about being ‘clever enough to come up with your own jokes’ next, or something?” Kaito shrugs, rolling his eyes as he leans against the wall of the elevator. “Shuichi and Maki-Roll will have notes, so. You’ve got me captive. Revenge is right there.”

“It’s a joke to you?”

Kokichi sounds too small. Disbelief creeps in, tinging the words with the reek of honest confusion, of dread.

The incessant ding! vv-ack, vAHvUmp, whrrrr… ding! of an elevator systematically checking every, single, floor of the building for a new occupant is even worse than the thick silence between them. Blissfully, nobody walks on.

Kaito is the one to break the tension.

“… Yeah? I mean, that you’d need a babysitter, the whole. That shit’s as real as mine, and it’s not fun, it’s a couple steps too far to heckle you for that.”

Kokichi looks as though he could spit in his face and at least try to crush him under the heel of a light-up tennis shoe. “Liar.”

“What?”

“Which word didn’t you understand?”

“The only one y— lie about what! Has anyone been giving you shit for it, seriously? I’ll punch’em!”

"See?" says Ouma, explaining nothing.

Well. Until the clueless look on Momota’s face chips at him enough to admit, “I see what you’re doing here. You, my guy, are caught up in some classic double-think. It’s a breed of lie powerful enough to snare you no matter how smart you are, if you aren’t careful.”

Kaito opens his mouth to object, but. Seeing the floor number tick over with its high-pitched 'ding!', he decides there might be some benefit to playing along after all.

“… You’ve really never…?” Kokichi’s brow furrows, leaning his right shoulder heavily against the wall. He does not let his back touch the metal. “It’s when you’re convinced to believe two things that directly contradict each other at the same time. Usually it’s a side-effect of propaganda, indoctrinating people into the Ideology of Whatever and all that, squash any questions before they’re asked. But you can totally do it with petty stuff too!”

Kaito looks him up and down. “You might be the only guy I know that’s actually bothered to read that book,” he halfheartedly laughs, in desperate want of a distraction.

“Mm, not at all, Momo-chan! Why would I bore myself with a dull, super-grody old book with a bunch of questionable bits from just after the second time the world shit itself within a century, a book that codified a lot about how people talk about political machinations and just the idea of a surveillance state, let alone the nightmarish panopticon we trade ourselves for now because they’re occasionally kind of fun! The screens couldn’t actually see you back when he wrote about it, Kaito. And you know what people did?”

Kaito, holding an arm out for a Kokichi that both A) takes it to re-balance himself and B) is very put out that he has to take it to re-balance himself, speaks matter-of-factly where Ouma cuts the rope on the rant. “Absolutely f–”

“They did ABSOLUTELY FUCKALL, KAITO, path of least resistance, going along with the rules of a game they did not mean to get into, but they also failed to stop, and they had to just sit and take it. None of it mattered. Even, when they thought they got out, n-none of it…” Hic.

The elevator door opens, landing the pair on the rooftop level. Only the sound of the wind rustling plant life around the greenhouse greets them up here, bright blue sky stinging both of their eyes emerging from the soft incandescent light of the elevator.

The real sky, this time. No LCD panels in sight.

“Mm-hmm. No need for an Ultimate Supreme Leader, whatever that means anymore, to look into somethin’ like that.”

Kaito lets the thought conclude, a little guilty now for bringing it up. For running away from what’s uncomfortable to know, again. Like a coward. We’re both cowards.

“Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you expect me to say?” Kaito shakes his head. “And you still haven’t answered me.”

“I’m headed. Right, here.” Ouma smirks, feet planted in the middle of the path.

“About the doublethink, Kichi, figured I should consult the expert.”

The boy considers this a moment, tapping his cane nervously when it should be helping him stand.

“… Come on, Kaito, you’re not totally braindead! It’s obvious.” Kokichi shrugs, or does his best to, closing his eyes and taking in real, fresh air, for the first time in [he doesn’t know how long. Too long.] Cheery as usual. Except… “You just look at yourself for a sec’n play spot-the-difference, Saihara’s probably got you cross-examined down to the bone! So what if you say that your sidekicks need to be more independent, it’s still more convenient to take their notes for granted while you go off on some Quest for all the Nothing it’ll net you. Heck, maybe you do want to care about the guy you voted for in every trial, just to send a message! But if you really think I’ll buy that you doubted for a second that this. Whatever this is, is anything but your self-aggrandizing attempt to convince yourself you’re still needed, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Kokichi laughs. Not his over-the-top Saturday-morning-supervillain Maniacal Laughter, but this subdued puff of air through his nose that nearly makes him choke. The only thing keeping him up (and awake) at this point, swaying as he may, appears to be pure adrenaline and spite. Kaito has to physically hold himself back from trying to catch Kokichi and carry him.

" ,,, Okay. Maybe I. Do, like to feel needed. That’s the truth. That doesn’t mean that’s all, Kichi, things are always more complicated than that."

Kokichi’s eyes narrow, pouring over Kaito’s features for any trace of insincerity. Considering how blurry his vision is getting, it doesn’t really help.

“You know what?” Kokichi interjects. “You’re right!”

“… I’m right?”

“Of course you are! Silly Momo-chan, you’re a literal rocket scientist, after all, and it’s not like a confluence of factors’ll get past someone that sharp! But it’s not like those factors are ' more complicated than that’, not really. Even an idiot would notice I’m struggling just to exist half the time! That I am small, and I am fragile, and I might keel over if the wind blows too hard, that I wasn’t supposed to be here, or be anywhere besides splattered between two metal slabs locked together for eternity, I’m weak, Kaito Momota, and you’re a damn vulture that just can’t let this broken bird be, now can you?”

That smile. That face, the Kokichi he still sees in his nightmares re-emerges, expression cast in shadow by the halo of the sun overhead. Of course he’s been flippant with his health, with himself. Of course it took a few weeks of trial and error for him to finally relent, get a cane, and of course he immediately took a shine to bruising shins with it. It doesn’t matter to him, because Kokichi Ouma considers himself a wraith bound to haunt this school. Because Kokichi Ouma is and should be dead.

“… wasn’t winning enough for you?”

The question is so soft it aches in his chest. A pain to give. A pain to receive.

The thin, curling leaves of a peach tree overhead rustle in the wind.

Kaito turns around.

“Alright. You know where to find me.”

They are both well aware that, wherever that place may be, there was no chance of Ouma getting there any time soon.

Kaito does not look back. He does not leave, either.

“S-So mean, Momo-chan,” Kokichi laughs, its latter half morphing into a sob. “A-At least be mad at me. Yell at me. Something, I’m Liar Supreme! King of the Shitheads! Can’t I at least keep that?”

Kaito sighs. “I didn’t win, Kichi. Not the game. Not even against the obstacle they made you into, let alone you. I-I.” Kaito reaches for better, clearer words, but he settles for close-enough. “I didn’t know, that you felt that way. And maybe you’ll believe me, maybe you won’t, but. I don’t, see you like that. I wanna say you’re one of the strongest guys I’ve ever met, but you are absolutely gonna call me out on that, so let’s go with. Resilient. That fair?”

Tears soaking into the dirt below, Kokichi steps with his cane to slowly get himself back in Kaito’s line of sight. “That’s. Definitely a new one.”

“And exactly the kind of thing you want in a leader. Or. I would. You roll with the punches like nothing I’ve ever seen! You got a concussion, then punched, shot twice, bled out, got poisoned, and the only thing that could put you down had to crush you completely just so you wouldn’t pick right back up! That’s gotta be at least a couple reasonable places to die, and you didn’t, just to stick it to the killing game. Legendary levels of petty. Honestly, Kichi, I probably could walk away and know that you’d be fine, because you’re you. You scrape by like that. I just think you shouldn’t have to. I need to get better at listening when I hear ‘no’, but. You need to know I won’t think any less of you if you say anything else. Okay?”

Kokichi nods. His face is buried in his scarf; saying the word yes out loud is still a bit beyond him, for the moment. So is ‘letting Kaito see his face while he processes possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him’. Rather than force himself to speak in the watery, weeping tone he loathes when he lacks the careful control to turn it off at will, he lunges forward.

Kokichi hugs Kaito as tightly as he can.

“… Holy shit, Kichi, how long has it been this bad?” Kaito gasps, only now permitted to see that, while he knew Kokichi was having a bad snit, he’s likely going to actually faint once the adrenaline wears off.

“Been worse,” the boy shrugs into Kaito’s side. He’s been at least vaguely aware he was going to crash for a while, now, doing his best to push it out of his mind.

To lie to himself that he isn’t scared.

“Momo-chan?” Kokichi asks, the fight fading from his voice. Kaito taps his shoulder to acknowledge so that Kokichi can keep his eyes shielded from the light. “Can we see some stars? This one’s too, too try-hard, y. Yeah?”

Kaito, for a moment, is flummoxed. Stars? It’s mid-afternoon, what could you possibly—

His lab. The astrophysics lab, on the roof, in the observatory. Bound to be close enough to empty while it’s too bright to see anything.

A safe zone.

“Can I—?”

“Yeah,” Kokichi concedes with a whisper. “Please.”

[angelic-writer]

AU Masterpost

As promised, here is the masterpost! Some AUs belong to @chibicharmie.

Anything is Worth the Risk - Mark and Cesar survived their alternate encounters and joins BPS with Adam and Jonah. Soon after their arrival, they get a call about a lady asking for help with her cat. They go to the house, but strange things begin to happen. Things happen after this point, but I won't tell you guys yet. ;) Planned to go for six volumes as well as bonus stories. Has a reboot in the works.

Teens of Mandela - Catherine Flammia and her brothers move into Mandela county after the tragic loss of their parents. As soon as they get settled in, they meet new people as well as find odd things in this town. A tale of odd creatures that appear every night to kill unsuspecting people and take their place. Has a sequel planned. A reboot is also planned.

Riverdale Catalogue - A TMC and Riverdale crossover. The most popular guy in school, Keith Boseman, goes missing on the Fourth of July. Everyone tries to start the new school year like normal, but they can't shake the feeling of emptiness he left in their wake. Soon, his body is discovered with a bullet hole in his head. Now, a group of kids must try to figure out who killed Keith. The more they investigate, the more secrets they unearth in this town.

Mandela Homicides - Based off the game Happyhills Homicide. Mandela county is being threatened by a serial killer who brutally kills people. While their lives are on the line, suspicions begin to rise. Who could this killer be?

Waning Flames (AU by @chibicharmie) - The Flammias are snatched off the streets one day while they are walking home. The clock is ticking as their friends try to figure out who kidnapped them so they can save them before it's too late.

Second Chance (AU by @chibicharmie) - The sequel to Teens of Mandela and Mandela Runaways. Camila and Santiago have been dead for a while. Killed by an alternate of their son. They make a simple wish. They wish for their kids to get a restart on life without having to worry about the horrors of their town. Next thing they know, they're back at the hospital only things have changed. Cesar now has the brother that was taken from him. The people that have died are now alive. They have been given their second chance. Now, they have to make sure they don't screw it up.

Mandela Heroes - In the small town of Mandela, there is an evil organization that has been terrorizing the citizens for a long time. They call themselves the alternates. No matter how hard they tried, the MCPD just can't seem to track them down. They were always elusive, slipping away at the last moment. They wished there was a group of heroes who could stop them.

One night, there was a flash of light followed by an explosion at the Mandela Community Church, resulting in the windows being blown out. No traces of an explosive were found in their investigation. Soon after, there were multiple reports of winged individuals apprehending criminals. Soon, a new group was formed. The Angels of Mandela.

Mark, Cesar and their friends all formed this group to help the citizens of the town as well as try to stop the alternates once and her all. But they have no idea what lies ahead as new foes appear and dark secrets are uncovered as well as the group bearing the burden and responsibility of being a hero...

TMC x TheSunVanished - One day, the sun has stopped rising. A young boy wakes up to confusion. What's going on? Where is the sun? As he tries to figure out the situation, he's met with more odd things happening. The water is contaminated by a black substance, strobes begin appearing... A crossover of TheSunVanished by Theo.

Androidela - In the distant future, Earth is rendered uninhabitable so the survivors board a ship and set off to a new planet that is million of light years away, several galaxies away. Fearing that all the people won't live to get there, the crew decides to make androids to keep everyone on the ship company and keep some hope. Unfortunately, an incident happens that caused the ship to stall and for everyone to be stranded in space. With no way to get the ship going again, the passengers all begin to die one by one until the only living beings are the androids which are put out of commission.

Several hundred years later, Android #001 - Codename "Mark", wakes up and looks around the ship for any survivors, finding none. Soon, he discovers other androids that have booted up. With no humans left on the ship, how are they going to get to the new planet now?

Hemoptysis - Cesar comes back to life after being given a chance to change things by Gabriel. With every person he saves, he gets sicker and sicker. He coughs up blood, developing a severe case of anemia. It won't be long before he accomplishes what he is set out to do and passes on.

Forever Young (Immortal AU) - Mark and Cesar are frozen at the ages of 17 and 18. They aren't sure what happened, but it doesn't concern them too much. As the years go by, as the world changes around them, they don't.

Mandela of the Dead - Based off the Walking Dead TV show as well as other forms of zombie media. Thatcher Davis wakes up from a month long coma to discover that the world has collapsed to a zombie apocalypse. As he tries to find his partner Ruth and his friend, Dave, he discovers a group of survivors about high school age. As they go further, Thatcher notices that this group is skilled at fighting, but will it be enough to keep them alive?

Magicae puer (Magic AU) - For generations, families have been born with magical powers. Some have fire magic, water magic, the ability to see auras. In recent times, magic has become a taboo subject by many, being dismissed as something stage magicians do. The Flammias are a great example of a magic family. Coming from a Wiccan family, they were ostracized for not being like the citizens of Mandela. They weren't worshiping God, they weren't following the Lord's passages.

The Heathcliff family has been keeping a secret. They all have magic too. And it seems that their children, Mark and Sarah have inherited their powers. For Mark, it was the rarest form of magic. Healing. A type of magic that was thought to have gone extinct for good reason. The healer's lifespan gets cut every time they heal someone, resulting in the healer eventually dying.

One night, while at a sleepover, Cesar wishes on a shooting star for him to have magic like Mark. His wish eventually gets granted as he has the ability to see colored strings that signifies what type of relationship the person has. As they get older, things start to become more dangerous. People begin to notice their magic powers, shadow creatures start appearing and a looming threat about the end of the world begins to emerge.

Doki Doki Mandela Club - A high school sophomore joins a literature club to catch up with her two childhood friends, Mark and Cesar. She hopes that she'll make new friends in the club as well as strengthen her literary knowledge. As they prepare for the school festival, she notices peculiar things about her friends that she didn't know previously.

Days keep on repeating, their minds begin to erode... Why can't they achieve happiness? No matter what I do, it all comes to nothing. I can't stop it... I can't...

Help me.

Basically, it's a mixture of DDLC and Higurashi with a little bit of Umineko. I won't just be using the base game. I will also be using the many mods that have been made about the game.

Cesar's Body (Jennifer's Body AU) - Cesar disappears after an accident at a concert. When he returns, something is off about him. Soon after, people start dropping dead. Now Mark has to figure out what's happening before more people die.

Purge Night in Mandela - Every year, the world hosts an annual event called the Purge. For twelve hours, all crime, including murder will be legal. Two stories unfold at the same time. A young boy tries to survive the purge along with his family. Two teens taking advantage of the Purge to commit petty crimes.

Reincarnation AU - In the year 2009, kids from Mandela county start to have dreams of a life they lived before. Bonds begin to form, danger looms around every corner, and friendships are tested.

Empty Dream - A tale of two friends who are reunited after Mark had to leave because of his father's new job. As they rekindle their friendship, family drama and people from their past threatens to tear the friends apart, possibly forever.

TMC x Regular Show - A silly AU where the TMC characters work at a park and they deal with shenanigans.

TMC x Corpse Party - A group of kids try a friendship charm one of them found online. Soon, they all get trapped in a haunted school and must find a way out before they join the many students who have died.

[book--brackets]

Fourth Competition Masterpost

Preliminary Rounds

Poll 1: The Hobbit - Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (here)

Poll 2: The Secret Garden - Graceling (here)

Poll 3: The Light in the Attic - The Phantom Tollbooth (here)

Poll 4: Lux - Abhorsen (here)

Poll 5: The Westing Game - The Witch of Blackbird Pond (here)

Poll 6: Books of Bayern - The Swiss Family Robinson (here)

Poll 7: The Indian in the Cupboard - Amulet (here)

Poll 8: The War That Saved My Life - The Trumpet of the Swan (here)

Poll 9: My Side of the Mountain - Nevermoor (here)

Poll 10: The Penderwicks - The Last Apprentice (here)

Poll 11: American Girl - Beyonders (here)

Poll 12: The Missing - A Mango Shaped Space (here)

Poll 13: Serafina - The Candymakers (here)

Poll 14: Things Not Seen - Ida B (here)

Poll 15: The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Blue Bear - Greenglass House (here)

Poll 16: Tuesdays at the Castle - Malory Towers (here)

Poll 17: The Littles - Ivy & Bean (here)

Poll 18: Flat Stanley - Silverwing (here)

Poll 19: The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles - Adventurers Wanted (here)

Poll 20: Applewhites - Red Planet (here)

Poll 21: The Secret Seven - Igraine the Brave (here)

Poll 22: My Teacher Is an Alien - Hitty, Her First Hundred Years (here)

Poll 23: George's Secret Key to the Universe - Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat (here)

Poll 24: Dragonbreath - Larklight (here)

Poll 25: La Quête d'Ewilan - The Forbidden Library (here)

Poll 26: Casson Family - Les Chevaliers d'Emeraude (here)

Poll 27: Regarding the... - MacDonald Hall (here)

Poll 28: The Candy Shop War - Time Hunters (here)

Poll 29: The Guardian Herd - Earthaven (here)

Poll 30: Edgar and Ellen - Ten Kids, No Pets (here)

Poll 31: Magic Puppy - The Strictest School in the World (here)

Poll 32: The Country Child - Cat School or Goyangi Hakyo (here)

Round 1

Poll 1: The Hobbit vs King of the Wind (here)

Poll 2: Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH vs Animal Ark (here)

Poll 3: Nevermoor vs Upside-Down Magic (here)

Poll 4: Kingdom Keepers vs The Icemark Chronicles (here)

Poll 5: Ever vs Flat Stanley (here)

Poll 6: American Girl vs My Teacher Is an Alien (here)

Poll 7: Alex Rider vs Fairy Wings (here)

Poll 8: A Little Princess vs Ten Kids, No Pets (here)

Poll 9: Little House vs A Snicker of Magic (here)

Poll 10: The Immortals Quartet vs Don't You Dare Read This, Mrs. Dunphrey (here)

Poll 11: Encyclopedia Brown vs Igraine the Brave (here)

Poll 12: Tuesdays at the Castle vs The Hardy Boys (here)

Poll 13: Running Out of Time vs Ever After High (here)

Poll 14: The Dark Is Rising vs Leviathan (here)

Poll 15: Septimus Heap by The Puppy Place (here)

Poll 16: Six of Crows vs Magic Puppy (here)

Round 2

Poll 1: The Hobbit vs Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH (here)

Poll 2: Nevermoor vs Kingdom Keepers (here)

Poll 3: Ever vs American Girl (here)

Poll 4: Alex Rider vs A Little Princess (here)

Poll 5: Little House vs The Immortals Quartet (here)

Poll 6: The Hardy Boys vs Encyclopedia Brown (here)

Poll 7: Ever After High vs Leviathan (here)

Poll 8: Septimus Heap vs Six of Crows (here)

Round 3

Poll 1: The Hobbit vs Nevermoor (here)

Poll 2: American Girl vs A Little Princess (here)

Poll 3: The Immortals Quartet vs Encyclopedia Brown (here)

Poll 4: Ever After High vs Six of Crows (here)

Round 4 (semifinals)

Poll 1: The Hobbit vs American Girl (here)

Poll 2: The Immortals Quartet by Six of Crows (here)

Round 5 (finals)

The Hobbit vs Six of Crows (here)

[skyfallscotland]

Fics:

Fear & Flame (Xaden/OC, 266k words)

Dangerous Devotion (44k words)

Truth & Talon (WIP, >100k words)

Ficlets:

Remi at 14; a Fear & Flame coda, (1k words)

Infantry Xaden & Remi AU (1.5k words)

intertwining souls (we were never strangers) - part one & part two— time travel AU snippets (2.7k & 4k words)

In-depth summaries, tags & FAQ below the cut ⤸

Fics:

Fear & Flame

Xaden Riorson/Original Female Character ✧ 266k words, complete

Remi Sorrengail is the antithesis of her sister. Snarky, depressed and quick to anger, she’s a realist. She’s well aware she probably won’t be making it out of the Riders Quadrant alive and she’s made peace with that. There’s just one thing she’d like to do there before she goes…climb Xaden Riorson like a tree.

Dangerous Devotion

Xaden's POV ✧ 44k words, complete ✧ (Note: this contains new content and is not just the same scenes from Fear & Flame, rehashed)

Xaden Riorson spends a year trying not to fall in love with Remi Sorrengail—and fails miserably.

Truth & Talon

Sequel to Fear & Flame ✧ 140k words, WIP

Remi Sorrengail’s life has been completely upended. The monsters that gave her nightmares as a child are real, her dead brother has been secretly alive this entire time and never once contacted her, and her partner has been lying about all of it. Oh and he’s also royalty. Throw in a bunch of assassins, a psychotic vice-commandant and a war on the horizon, and she truly has her work cut out for her—and that’s not even taking into account matters of the heart.

Ficlets:

Remi at 14; a Fear & Flame coda

1k words, complete

For a long minute, my heart thunders, but then I think at least it would have been over. Over. I don’t know if I believe in Malek, but if the world holds any kindness and the gods are real, I’d hope they would reunite me with Brennan in the afterlife.

Infantry Xaden & Remi AU

1.5k words, complete for now—potential series

I am not ashamed to admit that smirk does something to me. My lips part in surprise. “You…” I suppose there’s not much to say—of course he knows who I am. Everyone in Navarre probably knows by now about the Sorrengail twins and how they both bonded two dragons. “Who are you?” I ask instead, my brow furrowing.  He steps closer, a small smile playing on his lips, like I should already know the answer. “Xaden Riorson.” He murmurs.

intertwining souls (we were never strangers) - part one & part two

2.7k & 4k words, respectively—complete for now

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, climbing to my feet. “I know this isn’t—that you don’t know me.” I choke out. “But I don’t know what happened and I can’t feel my dragon and I’m scared, Xade.” Slowly, he climbs to his feet and takes a step toward me, closing the gap again.  A hand reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear and a wet chuckle escapes me. I guess some things really don’t change. “Where—when are you from?” He finally asks, his eyes glued to my face.

You can find the Basgiath: Remi's Version playlist here 🥰

Series tags: Asks / Quotes / Polls

✧ FAQ

Will you be killing Liam? Will Xaden turn venin? Will Remi turn venin?

Wouldn't you like to know 😌

[empyrean-thrones]

ABOUT THIS BLOG

Hello, I'm Jey, a 20+ year old writer! I go by she/they and post about the Empyrean series on this blog. I do not support Rebecca Yarros and am critical of her work (though I admit Fourth Wing was quite entertaining) so you'll see a few rant posts here and there about some of the things in these books. If you don't want to see my posts, feel free to block this blog and continue with your day. Otherwise, enjoy your stay and leave a comment on my fics.

Please avoid posting hateful comments/messages on here and be civil. Thank you!

Links regarding Palestine/Congo/Sudan:

Masterpost by @smashingorpassing of links to help aid Gaza and Palestine.

TikTok regarding Rebecca Yarros' statement on Palestine

Palestinian gfms that have been vetted

Congo gfms

Operation Olive Branch fundraiser spreadsheet link

My Empyrean works on Ao3:

Empyrean Thrones - a rewrite of the Empyrean series; my main project on this blog

M' eudail - a collection of one-shots revolving around Naolin and Brennan's relationship

[daitranscripts]

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts (Optional)

Dance with the Dowager

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts Masterpost First: Gaining an Invitation Previous: Reconvene with the Advisors

The PC approaches The Dowager (Council) in the ballroom.

Lady Mantillon (low court approval): Oh, you don’t want to speak with me darling. Lady Mantillon (neutral court approval): Perhaps we can speak later, Inquisitor.

Lady Mantillon (high court approval): You are an interesting one. Lady Mantillon (Quanri PC): An eloquent Qunari! Nobody saw that coming, I assure you. Lady Mantillon (Dalish PC): A Dalish in the Winter Palace, more genteel than the grand duke. That’s put this lot in their place, hasn’t it? Lady Mantillon (dwarf PC): A dwarf from the Carta, of all places, with the manners of a noble. The Merchant Guild will be outraged. Lady Mantillon (human PC): You have quite the silver tongue, Inquisitor. I do hope you put it to good use.

Lady Mantillon: [Lord/Lady] Inquisitor.

1 - Dialogue Options:

Investigate: What do you think of the ball? [2]

Investigate: Seen anything interesting? [3]

Nobility: Care to Dance? [4] +5 Court approval

General: Goodbye. [5]

2 - Investigate: What do you think of the ball? PC: I’d like your opinion of this gathering, my lady. Lady Mantillon: It’s doomed to fail, of course. Celene knows that. At least it should be amusing. We haven’t had such a menagerie at court in living memory. [Back to 1]

3 - Investigate: Seen anything interesting? PC: Have you noticed anything odd this evening? Lady Mantillon: Too few imperial guards stand in attendance, my dear. A shame. They’re so pleasantly decorative. [Back to 1]

4 - Nobility: Care to Dance? PC: Would you care to dance, Lady Mantillon? Lady Mantillon: You, Inquisitor, are a delight. One does not often find foreigners so well versed in the Game. But you have other dances to perform first. Perhaps you will save me a dance for later. [Back to 1]

5 - General: Goodbye. PC: Good evening, milady. [6]

6 - Scene continues.

Lady Mantillon: Run along, Inquisitor. Lady Mantillon: Another time, perhaps.

—

Ambient:

Lady Mantillon: Laurent was the love of my life. You remember my husband? Poor darling, killed in the war with Ferelden.

Lady Mantillon: I still remember the day they came to tell me that my second husband, Phillippe, was thrown from his horse…

Lady Mantillon: When my third husband, Pierre, lost his life to rossalia, I swore off marriage forever!

Lady Mantillon: Maximillian swept me off my feet. It was such a scandal! A fourth marriage to a man almost half my age! Lady Mantillon: My dear Maximillian… it took four chevaliers to hunt down the bear that killed him.

Lady Mantillon: Poor, sweet Gerard! My fifth husband fell to his death from the bell tower of the Grand Cathedral. To this day, no one knows why he was up there.

Lady Mantillon: You were acquainted with my darling Hervé, weren’t you? I still cannot believe he was allergic to bees… We should never have put in that rose garden. They are such drab flowers.

Lady Mantillon: I told my seventh husband, Renard, “Never drink aquae lucidius on an empty stomach!” Three glasses poisoned him. But at least he died at Chateau Haine!

Lady Mantillon: Then my eighth husband, Nazaire, tragically crushed by a cartload of fine handbags…

Lady Mantillon: I am still mourning for my beloved Etienne. No one has ever seen such a violent tailor accident… But enough talk of the past. Shall we dance?

Next (optional): The Trophy Room Next (optional): Ladies-In-Waiting Next (optional): An Elven Locket Next (optional): The Elven Ambassador Next (optional): Speak to Gaspard Next (optional): The Court Historian Next (optional): The Lower Garden

Next: The Royal Wing

[katakaluptastrophy]

Masterpost of TLT metas

This is mostly for my own reference, as tagging doesn't seem to guarantee something being findable on Tumblr...but if you like wildly overthinking lesbian necromancers in space, enjoy!

Overthinking the Fifth House:

What is a "Speaker to the Dead"?

Actually, Magnus Quinn isn't terrible at sword fighting

Imperial complicity: Abigail the First

Pyschopomp: Abigail Pent and Hecate

Did Teacher conspire with Cytherea to kill the Fifth?

What does the Fifth House actually do?

The Fourth and the Fifth can never just be family

Cytherea's political observations at the anniversary dinner

Abigail Pent's affect: ghosts and autism

Were the Fourth wards of the Fifth?

Abigail probably knew most of the scions as children

Magnus Quinn's very understandable anger

Fifth House necromancy is not neat and tidy

Are Abigail and Magnus an exception to the exploitative nature of cavaliership?

"Abigail Pent literally brought her husband and look where that got her" (the Fifth in TUG)

The Fifth's relationship dynamic

The Fifth's relationship is unconventional in a number of ways

The queer-coding of Abigail and Magnus' relationship

Abigail and Palamedes, and knowing in the River

Was Isaac the ward of the Fifth?

Did Magnus manage to draw his sword before Cytherea killed him? (and why he probably had to watch his wife die)

How did Abigail know she was murdered by a Lyctor?

Fifth House necromancy is straight out of the Odyssey

The politics of the anniversary dinner (and further thoughts)

Was Magnus born outside of the Dominicus system?

Overthinking John Gaius:

The one time John was happy was playing Jesus

Is Alecto's body made from John's?

Are there atheists in the Nine Houses?

Why isn't John's daughter a necromancer?

The horrors of love go both ways: why John could have asked Alecto 'what have you done to me?'

Why M- may have really hoped John was on drugs

What is it with guys called Jo(h)n and getting disintegrated? (John and Dr Manhattan)

John's conference call with his CIA handlers

Watching your friend turn into an eldritch horror

Why does G1deon look so weird? (Jod regrew him from an arm)

When is a friendship bracelet not a friendship bracelet?

Why did John have G1deon hunt Harrow? (with bonus update)

The 'indelible' sin of Lyctorhood and John's shoddy plagiarism of Catholicism

Are John Gaius and Abigail Pent so different?

What was Jod's plan at Canaan House?

John and Ianthe tread the Eightfold path

The Mithraeum is more than a joke about cows

When was John Gaius born? (And another)

John Gaius and the tragic Orestes

John and Jesus writing sins in the sand

John and Nona's echoing chapters

John's motivations

Is Alecto just as guilty as John?

John's cult (and what he might have done to them)

The horror of Jod

Did John get bloodsweat before he became god?

Some very silly thoughts about John and Abigail arguing about academia

Overthinking the Nine Houses:

'No retainers, no attendants, no domestics'

Funerary customs and the violence of John's silence

Juno Zeta and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time

The horror of the River bubble

Every instance of 'is this how it happens' in HTN

Feudalism is still shitty even if you make it queer and sex positive

How do stele work?

Thought crime in the Nine Houses

The Houses have a population the size of Canada

What must it be like to fight the Houses?

You know what can't have been fun? Merv wing's megatruck on Varun day...

Augustine's very Catholic hobby (decorating skeletons)

Necromancers are not thin in a conventionally attractive way

Matching the Houses with the planets of the solar system (though perhaps the Fourth *is* on Saturn)

Why don't the Nine Houses have (consistent) vaccination or varifocals?

How would the Houses react to the deaths at Canaan House?

How does Wake understand her own name (languages over 10,000 years)

What pre-resurrection texts are known in the Houses?

Camilla and Palamedes very Platonic relationship (further thoughts)

The horrors the Cohort found at Canaan House

Do the Houses understand the tech keeping them alive?

The scions from an external perspective (sci fi baddies)

Cav cots

The Nine Houses and feudalism

The horrors of early necromantic education

[mangoisms]

like the part of the song where it falls ━ miyuki kazuya

━ part two: like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song where it falls / read part one

━ wc: 8k

━ warnings: none

━ masterpost

So, naturally, you don’t expect him to come back.

Not at all. 

And that’s okay! He did way more than he needed to. 

But you find those expectations smashed to pieces the next day. 

And the day after that. 

And the day after that. 

And the day after that. 

Each of those times, he says he is simply ‘checking in.’

Guilt and obligation are his main motivators, you’re certain of it. But you don’t say anything. You like talking to him. You’ve made certain everyone knows they don’t need to hang around while you’re at the hospital and you don’t regret it, knowing they all have other things to do, but you also don’t mind talking to someone. You never do. You love your fellow humans very much and you are always willing to chat with the people around you, provided they are willing, too.

Sure, he may be coming here out of a sense of duty but he is still engaging with you. You appreciate that. 

Alongside that, you are slowly but surely recovering. The worst symptoms of your concussion subside, like your spatial misperception and the blurriness in your vision when you try to focus. On your fourth day, you venture outside. You have to wear sunglasses initially but bit by bit, it becomes bearable. You’ll still experience sensitivity for the next several weeks, headaches, too, but it won’t last forever. 

Hopefully. 

Your good old friend, brain contusion, is getting better, too. Not completely healed yet but not getting worse. They think it’ll be healed by your follow-up appointment. Your bruise still looks bad. It will for the next week, probably, then it’ll start to heal.

Miyuki keeps coming around, even on Saturday, after the parade celebrating the Padres’ win, where they have a massive turnout on Seventh Avenue; something like a million people came out for it. 

Your discharge creeps on you. Soon, it’s Tuesday, the first of November, the day before you’re to be released. 

You’re in a chair by your window, the blinds pulled all the way up, giving you a view of the greenery around the hospital; immaculately cut grass, neatly trimmed bushes, rows of planted trees. The table in front of you has a half-completed puzzle, a vintage map of New York City. You’ve done this one before but it’s been a while. You don’t mind, anyhow. They often help to pass the time on slow nights during the show.

You don’t lift your head when someone knocks on your door. 

“Come in!”

The door opens. Miyuki shuffles inside, dressed in his usual nondescript manner (joggers, a t-shirt, and a ballcap tucked over windswept hair). That’s the nice thing about living in San Diego. Even if November is today, you can often get away with a shirt and shorts most of the year. A shirt and leggings if you want to bundle up a little more. 

Except this time, it is not just himself but…

“Is that for me?”

He smirks, shutting the door with his shoulder as his hands are preoccupied with a to-go bag from In-N-Out that you can smell all the way from here, and a cup of something in his other hand, sounding full by the way it sloshes around. 

“No, I just came here with your favorite fast food to eat it in front of you.”

You let out a loud laugh. “Wait until the press hears about this!”

“Don’t make me sue you for defamation.”

You keep grinning as he hands you the bag and drink, then pulls the other chair over to where you are. 

“What’s the occasion, then?” you ask, sipping your drink tentatively and then immediately finding yourself pleased to taste Coke. 

“Discharge is tomorrow,” he says simply. 

You open the bag. Your light-well fries sit next to your decently-sized wrapped burger, which is… 

“A Double-Double with no onions and no pickles, right?”

You beam. “You remembered!”

“Hard to forget someone who starts a conversation accusing me of forgetting to bring them In-N-Out.”

“But, like, in a good way, right?”

He rolls his eyes. He’s doing that more often. You’re pleased. It shows he’s getting comfortable. 

You aren’t under any pretenses about what’s going on here. You two will likely go your separate ways after tomorrow, but you’ve still greatly enjoyed your time together and you want to strive toward making him comfortable around you. Even if your time will soon be cut short. 

You hum, superbly pleased, and unwrap the burger. “So, you tried my trick today, then? How was it?”

“Better but they’re still not the greatest fries ever.”

“Fair enough! Anyway, you didn’t have to get me something, too. We’re having lunch tomorrow, aren’t we?” Then you’d go down to BestBuy and get you a new camera. 

He waves you off. “I was already there for lunch. I figured I might as well. Besides, tomorrow might turn into a much more public affair if people recognize me.”

“True, true…” 

They’d release the statement about your discharge, your current status, and your meeting with Miyuki after the fact. But the chances of him being recognized when the two of you got lunch — his treat — were very, very high. That might strain some things. 

While you happily tuck into your meal, he leans forward, peering at the table. 

“Puzzles again.”

“Of course.”

“You and your puzzles.”

“They help pass the time!”

“Hmm.” Despite the mock doubtful tone, he slots in a few more pieces while you eat.

Halfway through, Hector makes an appearance. He isn’t your doctor — he is an ER doctor, so that is where he is most of the time; your case was handed over to someone else but he’s been hovering over Dr. Maxwell’s shoulder and micromanaging everything. 

“Hey, Tee, I’m heading out —” he stops, head poked into the room. Upon seeing Miyuki, his eyes narrow and he wiggles the rest of his body inside.

Somehow, you’ve managed to avoid having him seen by Hector, your sister, Hector’s family when they came to visit you, and Jerry. Sheer luck, you think, but mostly, you get visited by those guys in either the early morning or later in the evening. Miyuki times his visits in between. 

You pop another fry into your mouth, unconcerned. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” he says distractedly to you, frowning at Miyuki. “I wasn’t aware you were visiting today.”

“I was in the area.”

“You were in the area?” His tone leaves much to be desired.

“Hector, don’t be a dick.”

Miyuki coughs. Hector frowns at you now, looking mildly betrayed.

“He’s just being nice,” you explain in a slightly exasperated tone, then holding out your fries. “Now come get some fries and leave us alone.”

He purses his lips, then after a few seconds, strides briskly over to you to take some of your fries, popping them into his mouth and giving a sidelong glance to Miyuki as he turns and walks back to the door. 

“Love you,” you call.

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too, kid.”

The door shuts behind him. You sip at your Coke, grinning a little.

“Sorry about him. He’s still kind of mad about the home-run thing.”

“It’s fine. I get it. It was my fault.”

“Not really,” you say lightly, popping the lid on your drink and tossing it into the takeout bag. 

Miyuki takes a second to scrutinize the puzzle, pick out a piece, then slot into place.

Then, he asks, “What makes you think that?”

“Occupational hazard of sitting where I was. I heard something on the news while they were talking about me — said I was in a home-run hot zone. That means a lot of the home-runs land in that section of that stands, right?”

A nod.

You shrug. “See? Now, I didn’t know that and admittedly, there weren’t any signs about it, either… but I should’ve been paying more attention to what was going on. The lack of signs, we can blame that on the park, maybe even the team management if it makes you feel better. But that ball going bonk on my head? Can’t blame you for it.”

He purses his lips, still studying the puzzle. You can sense his doubt.

“Seriously! Now if I was sitting, say, somewhere along the foul line…” you pause; he lifts his eyes. Finally, you grin and nudge his leg. “Even then, I wouldn’t have blamed you. I’d blame that one on the park. They should keep those areas netted or something.”

“You Americans do like to play it fast and loose with those parts of the stands.”

You straighten your shoulders, puff out your chest, and put on your most righteous expression, shaking your fist at him as you speak. “It is my god-given constitutional right as an American citizen to be whacked in the face by a foul ball and you can’t do anything about it!” 

He laughs. You relax, laughing, too. 

“So, then, they do it differently in Japan?”

“There’s always been netting alongside the foul line,” he says, nodding. “And there are always attendants standing near to make sure no one gets hurt by balls that do make it over. They do everything they can to make sure no one gets hurt.”

You whistle. “Very nice! Yeah, no, someone has to, like, sustain extreme brain damage before fans agree to putting up netting.” 

You chuckle at your own words but he just nods and clears his throat, slotting in another few pieces to the puzzle. 

“Anyway,” he says after a moment, “I just realized I haven’t asked.”

“Ask what?” you ask, tipping your head back as you bring the cup to your mouth; most of the Coke is gone, leaving behind the ice chips. You let a few pieces slide into your mouth, happily crunching down on it. 

You make an inquisitive sound at the amused look he shoots you but he just shakes his head and continues his previous statement. “Why do they call you Tee?”

Ahhh. He’s heard the nickname a few times. Hector has sworn you off from any and all types of electronics but thank god for the modern advancements of technology, because you have been able to use your phone sparingly when it comes to texts and calls, usually just by Hey, Siri-ing the hell out of it. 

Jerry’d called you a few days ago with a question about a song in the queue and he’d dropped the nickname. Your sister called you yesterday asking if you wanted her to bring you a shake from Señor Mangoes when she came in the evening and she’d used it, too. Then Hector just now as well. 

“Oh! You know about Jerry, right? My friend slash sound engineer at the studio? Well… you know Tom and Jerry? That’s kind of where it’s from.”

He snorts. “So, that’s why you called him —?”

“Mouser,” you finish, grinning.

“And you are…”

“Tee. But I don’t mind Tom, either. Or some variation of, like, cat. Or just Cat.”

Miyuki looks faintly amused. “You’re so…”

“What?”

“Weird.”

“Nicknames aren’t weird! Nicknames are fun! And great branding!”

He laughs for a long time at that one.

You are promptly discharged the next day at eleven. Your CT and X-ray scan come out fine; no issues on that front, with everything healing slowly. You’re doing well, all things considered. Really well. Dr. Maxwell is surprised at it but you think your general attitude towards everything helps significantly. 

Details about your current well-being still won’t be released until the later part of the day, however, after you have your little outing of Miyuki.

Speaking of…

“Dude. Is it just me or are these letters a little bit blurry?”

“I think that’s the brain trauma.”

“Oh, true!” 

Hector said it would be like that for a little while. Most of the major symptoms have subsided but you’ll still feel some measure of them for a while. Occasional misperception, occasional blurriness, occasional headaches, occasional sensitivity to light. You know. The usual. 

The harder you try to focus, the worse it gets, so you just shake your head and put the menu down. 

The two of you are tucked away in a corner of a local brunch place. Miyuki is as inconspicuous as usual, with the addition of the large menu firmly planted in front of his face, his back to the wall and yours to the rest of the restaurant. 

You’re more than a little amused as, when the server comes by, he keeps the menu up, muttering an order for coffee. 

“And you?” she asks, smile warming considerably as she looks at you. Her tag reads Naomi. She’s pretty.

“I’ll have a Coke. Thanks.”

“Of course.” She flashes you another sweet smile then walks off. 

“You know, I would say you’re being dramatic but I think if she’d gotten a look at your face, she definitely wouldn’t have looked twice at me, so, thanks for that.”

He doesn’t remove the menu from his face. “Are you saying you think I’m handsome, tomcat?”

“Come on, dude, you’re super hot, we all know that. Don’t fish for compliments.”

He snickers.

“Anyway, what looks good on there? Everything looks incomprehensible to me right now.”

“I don’t know. What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm. Do they have chicken?”

“Chicken and waffles?”

“Oh, solid. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Naomi returns with your drinks and another warm smile toward you, then takes your order. Miyuki has to relinquish the menu to her after but you’re pleased to find she doesn’t even glance at him. 

“You’re far too happy with yourself,” he says. 

You wave a dismissive hand at him, head turned to watch her talk to a family; a one-year-old sits in a high-chair at the end of the table and you watch, taken, as she beams at the baby, cooing at him. 

“What if she thinks we’re on a date and she’s making moves on you? What does that say about her?”

Eugh. He’s such a devil’s advocate. 

“She’s probably thinking that my date is so rude by keeping his face shoved in his menu and neglecting me, so she’s shooting her shot.”

“Oh, please.”

You grin and shrug, sipping your Coke. “Gotta give people benefit of the doubt, man.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Sure. Anyway, what kind of camera are you going to get?”

“That’s a good question…”

You discuss that until your food arrives. Chicken and waffles for you and an American breakfast for him — over easy eggs, hash-browns, sausage and bacon with a side of fluffy pancakes. 

Everything is in order. Perfectly cooked, plates still hot and food equally fresh. A quick surveillance of your surroundings assures you, for the moment, that no one has yet noticed Miyuki. Or they have and the paparazzi are on their way. Either way, in the present moment, everything is fine.

Then you take a bite of your fried chicken.

That’s perfect, too. Crispy on the outside, seasoned well, the chicken itself tender and juicy. 

Then your mouth starts tingling. 

You set your fork down calmly and reach around for your tote bag hanging off the back of your chair.

“Hey, Miyuki?”

“Hm?” 

“Did you see any seafood on the menu?”

“Yeah.” He spears a piece of sausage on his fork, glancing around. “They had salmon and then some fried shrimp bites, I think.”

“I thought so.” Your voice comes out strained, throat tightening as you dig through your bag. You have it, you know you do, you never go anywhere without it. Your mouth is growing itchy and so is the rest of your body.

“Why?”

“I’m, uh, kind of allergic to shellfish and I’m pretty sure they fry their chicken and shrimp in the same fryer.”

His head snaps towards you. At the same time, you free your Epipen from the bag and pop the blue cap.

You meet his eyes.

“Whoops,” is the last thing you say before jabbing the pen into the side of your thigh.

“She’s only been out of the hospital two hours tops and you put her back here again? Are you kidding me?”

You’d normally defend Miyuki but you’re far too itchy to hold onto the thought long enough to say something. You shudder as Hector smooths anti-itch cream over the rash on your neck, arms, and legs with a wooden stick. 

There’s also the matter of the stupid oxygen mask on your face. They’d given you albuterol to ease your breathing symptoms and you still have an IV line in your arm giving you antihistamine and cortisone for the inflammation of your airways. You still need the oxygen mask, though. For a few more hours.

Thankfully, however, you don’t need to speak up.

“Hector,” your sister hisses, giving him a look. “It’s not his fault. He didn’t know.”

You grunt in agreement then make a flimsy gesture to yourself.

You should’ve known better. But to be completely honest, you’d forgotten to even ask. You’re usually incredibly vigilant about your shellfish allergy but this time… you don’t know. You can probably blame it on your still-lingering concussion for your lapse in memory. 

Hector sighs heavily. “You forgot?”

Another sound of agreement.

“Yes… yes… it’s likely the concussion.” He shoots another glare to Miyuki, who looks quite guilty, sitting at your bedside. “Which is your fault.”

“Hector.”

You jab your foot at him half-heartedly as he smooths cream over your thigh. Don’t make me kick you.

“None of this is your fault, Miyuki,” your sister says soothingly to him. “Really, we have you to thank for getting her back here in a nick of time.”

In yet another ambulance. How dramatic. 

He clears his throat. “I’ll, uh, cover the bills for this one as well.”

“Yes, you will,” Hector mutters. 

“Oh, for the love of —“

Hector finishes spreading the anti-itch cream over your rashes, then steps outside the curtain with your sister, probably to get a dressing down over his behavior to Miyuki. See, you knew he wasn’t fond of him because of the whole ball-meet-face thing and this, well, it doesn’t look great, either, but logically speaking, it is no one’s fault but your own. Why his dislike persists? You don’t know. You’d have to corner him about it one of these days. 

You’re in the emergency room at the medical center, your bed cordoned off with just a thick curtain; your EKG monitor beeps a little unsteadily, the epinephrine still in your system after they’d given you another dose on the ride here, and the oxygen tanks behind the bed hiss quietly with each pull of air delivered to you. Similar sounds from the other areas reach your eyes. Quiet murmurs between doctor and patient, a baby crying somewhere. 

Miyuki sighs, pulling off his cap and running his fingers through his hair.

Just like the day you were concussed, your memories of getting here are fuzzy. Mostly after you’d administered your Epipen to yourself. You know the major stuff, of course, like 911 being called, the ambulance, the pretty EMT telling you he was going to give you another dose of epinephrine and you trying to give him a thumbs up but the realization that he was really nice to look at ended up hitting you in that moment, making you slur out something about getting his number. You remember that one a little vividly, probably because he’d hit you with that dose of epinephrine immediately after, and also, it’s really embarrassing in hindsight. (Even more so because Miyuki was there with you. Christ.)

Either way, you definitely made a scene at that restaurant and well…

You feel a little bit bad.

But also…

“Hngh… hey…”

His head lifts. “What? Should I get —?”

“No. I just wanted to say sorry.”

He stares at you. “Sorry about what?”

“All… of this. Not great for laying low.”

“Not great for — Jesus. That’s not —” he shakes his head sharply. “Don’t… worry about that. It’s fine.”

“Did people —?”

“Yeah. Couple pictures.” He rolls his eyes there, not at you but the inconsiderate jerks who think it’s okay to sneak pictures of him during an emergency. “But it’s fine. Wendy’s dealing with everything. They’re releasing the previous stuff about you being discharged and then us getting lunch to celebrate it. And then lunch being derailed because you had an allergic reaction.”

“They’re not blaming you for it, right?”

“Couple jokes. Nothing I can’t handle. Seriously, worry about yourself, tomcat. And if anyone should be apologizing…” he grimaces, mouth tightening at the corners, uncomfortable and something else you can’t quite pinpoint. “I’m sorry. That… wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

You finally smile. “Hell of a story, right?”

If you two stay friends, you think you’ll have a great story to tell your kids one day. 

He exhales a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Hell of a story.”

Quiet for a moment other than the beep of the machine and the hiss of the oxygen. You take a deep breath. Easier to do now. Still some lingering tightness, though. 

“There’s a great taco truck in front of the radio station,” you eventually say. “We can go there for lunch or dinner or whatever when I’m out of here, and have a redo, ‘kay?”

“You…” he pauses and clears his throat. “You sure?”

“You still owe me a camera, buddy.” But hopefully the warmth in your smile tells you that regardless of that, you are very much sure. 

He chuckles quietly, something like a smile curving his lips. It sends a shock through your system. This is your first time seeing it, something something real, genuine. Honest. Mostly, you get amused grins, the occasional sardonic smirk. 

Though it’s small, it is still a brilliant thing, radiant in your eyes. His eyes crinkle with it. 

Your heart skips a beat and you cough to cover up the monitor mimicking it. 

His eyebrows furrow a little but you plow ahead. 

“You know what I just realized?”

He humors you. “What?”

You beam at him. “I can finally show you pictures of my pets!”

That smile doesn’t appear again but the set of his mouth is still soft as he says, “You’re right. Show me.”

Miyuki grabs your phone from your tote bag but you don’t want to disrupt yourself. 

You’re kind of splayed out on the bed, legs stretched out, arms down at your sides, and you don’t want to move for fear of setting off your rashes. 

“Just do it for me,” you urge him, telling him your passcode. You don’t have anything to hide. Your home screen is cluttered with apps that should be organized and your wallpaper is a picture of the sunset on Black’s Beach. You ask him if he’s been and he says no. A travesty, you think. If your friendship survives after he fulfills his duties to buy you a meal and a new camera, you’ll have to take him. 

“Go to my gallery.”

He does but he seems…

“What?”

“I’m just trying not to see something I shouldn’t.”

It takes a second for you to understand. Your face heats up. 

“Hey! I would never!”

“You asked the EMT for his phone number when he told you he was giving you another dose of epinephrine.” 

“He was very attractive! If I’d died there, I’d at least want him to know that.”

His face pinches. 

You chuckle nervously. “Too soon?”

“A bit.”

“Right… anyway! I would never keep nudes on my phone… They’d be kept in an external hard drive. That way, if someone steals my phone they can’t get to them and I’m also not relying on some app to store them for me.”

“Oh, of course.”

You laugh, the sound a little scratchy. “Don’t be a jerk. Anyway, chillax. I have a folder for them.”

He turns your phone back to his face. “Which is?”

“It should be obvious — Batman and Robin!”

“How should that be obvious.”

You blink. “Did I not tell you their names?”

“No. You just said you had a Betta fish and a snail. Then you started talking about the cat you see around your apartment complex and how it scared you when it sprinted up the stairs next to you a few weeks ago.”

“He really did scare me, you know. He’s never gone that far out! He usually just hangs around by the laundry room… and I think that’s where the person who takes care of him lives, too…”

“Focus, tomcat.”

“Right! There’s a folder for them.”

“Ah.” He clicks on something, then drags his chair closer to you, angling your phone so you both can see it. 

“Ooh, pick that video. It was really cool. Betta fish can recognize their owners, did you know that? He gets all excited whenever he sees me come in. Snails don’t do much but that’s okay. He’s supposed to keep the balance by being chill.”

“Wait, so who is who?”

“Batman is my snail and Robin is the Betta. Yeah, had a hard time deciding, just ‘cause Bettas can be a little aggressive, especially other Betta males, and I’m like, well, Batman is aggressive. Y’know, he’s the dark, Robin is the light. But then, snails are so slow and generally chill. Not that Batman is chill at all but he is old. So, I figured the snail is better for an older figure and the Betta for a younger one. Also, feel free to tell me to stop whenever. I get kind of carried away talking about them.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Great! Prepare to unwillingly learn about DC Comics. So, we all know Batman and Robin, right? Batman is Bruce Wayne, of course, but then when you get to Robin, you have to specify who is who, because he’s had, like, six Robins…”

You assault Miyuki with all kinds of information about Bruce Wayne and his hoard of orphans for the next few hours. To his credit, he humors you. For the most part. He also makes fun of you for being a comicbook geek but this is coming from the same guy who, a few days ago, talked about baseball for four straight hours with you. Granted, you asked since you don’t know shit about baseball, other than the obvious stuff like… Hit the ball far. Get back to home plate. Score. That kind of thing. He was happy to drill you on the finer points of the game, though. It was the most he’d ever talked to you but it’s clear to you that that is because he really truly loves baseball.

So, if you’re a comicbook geek, he’s still a baseball nerd. 

As the time passes, your rashes go away and most of your breathing issues abate. You still have to stay there until the evening, however, to make sure it doesn’t come back. Miyuki doesn’t leave other than to step out for a phone call — to Wendy, you presume — and to grab In-N-Out at your wish. Hector tries to protest (not for any real reason, just because of his apparent dislike of Miyuki, you think) but your sister overrules him, especially when Miyuki offers to grab stuff for them, too.

She gives him some extra cash to cover the order, even though you insist you have money to pay for your own, at the very least, but you both end up losing as he politely refuses to take the money. 

With that also comes something else.

“I know I’ve endangered your life two separate times but if I give you my number, do you promise not to leak it?”

“As long as you make sure the fries are light-well, absolutely.”

He presses a hand to his chest, a mock solemn expression on his face. “I will do my best.” 

You grin and exchange numbers so you can text him the orders, then he steps out, the curtain fluttering behind him. 

“I like him,” your sister says. 

“I don’t,” Hector mutters, glancing over your vitals. 

“We know,” you say. “What’s with that, anyway?” 

“I don’t think he’s as nice as he’s portraying himself to be.”

“Well, sure.” 

Not nice, exactly. Snarky. Snide. Certainly a capacity to be callous. It is too easy for you to envision, with how he’s teased you sometimes, but you just let it roll off your back. If he wanted it to hurt, it would. He’s not rude, though. Not rude to people who don’t deserve that kind of behavior, like strangers. He keeps a lid on it. Likely because he has a public reputation to protect but still. As an adult, a grown ass man, you can’t just be outright cruel to people. It’s not right. You can tell he understands that. Oh, he has his own thoughts, sure, but he holds off. You appreciate that. 

Not to say you don’t want him to be real with you but restraint is a hard thing to come by these days.

“But you also have to realize he came and visited me, like, everyday while I was here,” you point out. “He didn’t have to.”

“He feels guilty.”

“Doesn’t cancel out the fact that it was a nice thing to do. Look, I know what you think, Hector. You think I’m naive —”

“I don’t —”

“Yes, you do. It’s okay, though. I’ve said it before and I’ll continue to say it. Being like this is strategic. Necessary. I have to believe in the possibility of goodness. It may not look the same to anyone, but he is good and until he gives me a reason to think we shouldn’t be friends anymore — if we even manage to stay in contact after all of this is over — then I’ll give him the benefit of doubt.”

It might get you hurt. Sure. You know that. But you’d rather try than just cut your losses now. That is no way to live your life. 

You’re only on this earth for a short period of time in the grand scale of the universe. 

And even life itself only exists for a fraction of that time. The universe is barely an adolescent right now. Barely lived its life, which, for the rest of it, after all lifeforms cease to exist and stars die out, turning the universe into a cosmic boneyard strewn with the remnants of cold stars and black holes, will be cold, dark, and empty.

Even the black holes will die out eventually, some quadrillion years into the future. And the universe will keep expanding, endless. Empty. 

But you are here now. And you will take advantage of that.

“We know,” your sister says softly, shooting Hector a displeased look. “We know, Tee. We trust you to take care of yourself.”

“Appreciate that. Now, where is the restroom? I think that single bite of chicken I had is finally exiting the stage.”

“Christ,” Hector mutters. Your sister giggles. You grin. 

Miyuki returns fifteen minutes later, with Wendy in tow. 

She breaks the news to all of you.

With the recent turn of events (that is, your dramatic moment at the restaurant), she and the rest of the Padres PR team see fit to hold a press conference rather than try and release a statement explaining everything. They have released a preliminary one assuring that you are fine and not actively dying but there are still a lot of rumors and talk swirling in the press and it’s just easier to gather the media in a room and answer the questions they have. Because if not, they’d certainly help themselves to any kind of plausible explanation. 

The only thing is… they want you there, too. 

“Wen, I know you said to dress normally but is this fine?”

She spares a glance at you. You are in a pair of dark wash mom jeans, the ends rolled up, with a black ribbed high-neck tank, and your usual Docs. Your makeup is done, finished with your sangria red liquid lipstick. Your nails are freshly painted oxblood red since you’d let yourself pick at the black polish you had on previously. You actually have that shade of liquid lipstick but you figured you’d go with something a scant few shades lighter. 

She shakes her head. “You look amazing. Don’t worry.”

You relax at that. “Thanks. You, too.”

She flashes you a warm smile in response. In the room adjacent to the hotel ballroom they’re hosting the press conference in, people bustle around. The Padres’ general manager, Leon Boyd, and another manager, Trevor Brown, a handful of the Padres public relations staff, including their bilingual liaison, Miranda Sato, who coordinates between the club and Japanese media. Wendy, of course, as Miyuki’s manager, and you…

“They didn’t send anyone over for you, then?”

“I called my supervisor about it yesterday. He was fairly unconcerned, didn’t think it was necessary.” 

It’s not like you were going to go out there and speak on the behalf of Night Owl or the broadcasting company, KCSD. In fact, you were going to make that point specifically. But it would be best to cover your bases anyway (pun totally intended). That meant calling up your supervisor, Dennis, and asking him about it. 

But you see, Dennis, a classically white Californian dude who wears board shorts and flip-flops to important meetings with investors and other higher-ups and has a bad habit of taking hits from his wax pen inside the studio and making it stink of weed, well, he doesn’t worry about much at all. He hardly does his job on top of that. 

If you run into any problems with equipment or advertisers, you can hardly rely on him to help get anything done. You anticipated that he would be careless about the fact that you’re doing this press conference. 

Sooo… you recorded the conversation. 

Just for some assurances. 

Maybe he is right and the company won’t care. But on the off chance that he is wrong, you don’t want him changing his tune and saying you never talked to him about it. 

You’re not usually this suspicious of people — as mentioned before, you do like to give people the benefit of doubt and just generally believe in the goodness of humankind — but this is work. You aren’t about to be double-crossed. No way. 

They should be grateful, if anything. Since they aren’t willing to promote the show, you will. This press conference is to clear the air and settle the facts but you being here and your return to the show imminent (like the next day imminent), it’ll work in your favor. There will be some questions strictly for you, like about returning to Night Owl. You cannot miss out on an opportunity to promote it. Even if it is because you got severely concussed then upon being discharged landed back in the ER with a severe allergic reaction.

That’s just how the cards fall and you are going to take every advantage you can.

It’s a little scary, since it won’t just be American media but Japanese media, too. Every word you say will be translated and transcribed to appear in the news afterward, to be viewed by most of the country. But they know that and Wendy promised you wouldn’t just be thrown to the wolves out there, that she and the other PR staff will help you out. 

“No matter,” Wendy says, straightening the pink satiny blazer she has on. It’s a matching set. You like it a lot. “You won’t be speaking on their behalf.”

“Definitely not.”

“But I do have to ask… is there anything that might be brought up in there that could derail things?”

“About me or about the show?”

“Both.”

“Me, well, I’ve got a pretty clean record. The occasional drama with listeners if I say something they don’t like but nothing explosive.”

“That’s fine. Anything else?”

“Weeell…the company is thinking about shutting us down.”

She jolts, surprised. “Oh. Oh. Really?”

“It’s not, like, set in stone. But there’s been talk. Plus, they tried to lower my sound engineer’s pay, too.” 

Jerry couldn’t afford that, though, not with taking care of his grandma — affectionately referred to as Nana by the both of you — and the prescriptions she had. So, you split some of your check into his. He doesn’t know and he won’t. That’s why you’re trying to promote the show so hard. To get things back on top. 

“I see,” she says, frowning. “You think you can handle it if they ask or should I have someone step in?”

You tilt your head thoughtfully. “No. I got it.”

You didn’t care much to talk about any previous drama if they brought it up. Let them take the reins there. But if it came to the company potentially shutting you down… why not? 

Wendy nods, a glint of respect in her brown eyes, then she tells you how everything else is going to go. A nearby makeup artist comes over to you to fix a few things, but they’re fairly approving of your appearance. 

“We aren’t covering the bruise?” they reaffirm, eyes on your temple. 

“Let them see it,” you say easily. Yeah, you hadn’t cared to conceal it. It’s still tender to the touch and probably would’ve taken several layers of concealer to hide but also, yeah, let them see it. 

They nod and step away to join the others. 

You’re a few minutes from stepping out to begin the conference when Miyuki finally makes his appearance. 

“Where have you been?” you chuckle, watching a team of makeup artists attack him. Fixing his hair, blotting out the sweat at his temples, concealing the circles under his eyes. Another set of his hands straightens his t-shirt and someone else takes a lint roller to it. He lets it all happen with the ease of someone incredibly used to it. 

“Slept in too late,” he says. “But in general, I make it a rule not to be too early for these sorts of things.”

“Sure. Makes sense.” You eye the rest of his appearance. You haven’t seen him in anything other than joggers and dri-fit workout shirts. Today he’s in a dark blue t-shirt that stretches nicely over his shoulders and medium wash jeans. Nothing fancy and yet, he looks gorgeous as usual. 

“One minute!” someone calls out in warning. The makeup team disperses as quickly as they appeared. Everyone lines up by the door, with you on Miyuki’s left and Wendy on your right. 

He frowns at you. “Why do you look taller?”

You beam, lifting your foot. “Docs.”

It’s not anything crazy. The platform is only about an inch and a half thick. A minuscule amount, really. You’re surprised he noticed. 

He squints. “Of course you wear Doc Martens and dark clothes.”

“Ha!”

The door opens. Your heart climbs to your throat. You’re used to broadcasting your voice to thousands of people but this is different. This is you and your face, not just your voice. The reporters will be getting everything and if you don’t calm yourself, there will be nothing left for you. 

“Don’t trip over yourself,” he tells you unhelpfully. 

“Don’t make me push you off that stage.”

He snickers. You take a deep breath. From the moment you follow him out, everything blurs. Cameras flash, blinding you. You somehow manage to take your seat at the table. A heavy black cloth is draped over it, so you can squeeze your hands between your thighs underneath and try to anchor yourself. The chair you’re sitting in is plush beneath you, made of a velvety kind of material. The cloth on the table is more scratchy but still heavy over your legs. You plant your feet firmly on the stage. A mounted microphone sits in front of you. 

Rows of reporters sit in chairs in front of you. Photographers and videographers stand behind them. It seems perfectly split down the middle, with American reporters on the left and Japanese reporters on the right. 

For the sake of the conference and the reporters, you get formally introduced. Then Boyd takes over, explaining the situation to them. He talks about your status on the day of the discharge, that you were cleared to be released but there was still some healing to go as far as the fracture and confusion went. Then he sets the context of your lunch with Miyuki, that he wanted to see how you were and talk to you. 

(There is no mention of his prior visits to you in the hospital.)

They talk about the allergic reaction and your impromptu trip back to the medical center. You were discharged again last night with a clean bill of health and by today, you’re mostly fine. Some scratchiness lingering in your throat but nothing to worry about. 

As he speaks, Miranda, the bilingual liaison, translates. It makes for a lot of noise at once but you have to get used to it because she’ll be doing the same for you. 

Once finished, he asks, “Any questions?”

Every hand in the room shoots up. Some questions are already spilling out of mouths, reporters clambering over each other. 

“One at a time, one at a time,” he cautions. 

They settle, mostly, and he picks out a raised hand in the left section. 

You suppress a full-body jolt as you hear your name. Your name. The first question — and they want to talk to you? 

Christ. 

Your eyes find a face in the first row. “Hi. Jessica Ramos with the Washington Post. Can I ask what this past week and a half has been like for you? I mean, you’ve kind of been thrown unceremoniously into the spotlight here.”

Every eye in the room is turned on you now. But you focus on Jessica Ramos. In her hands is a notepad. Her nails are painted sage green and the bag at her feet has a felt-print green ostrich embroidered on it. 

“To be honest,” you start, relieved to hear your voice is light. “I’m a little convinced that I’m actually in a coma at the hospital and this is a fever dream. Or a concussion dream, to be technically correct.”

Everyone laughs. You relax, smiling faintly. 

“No, it’s been very… strange. But I wasn’t allowed to be on anything electronic for the entire week I was in the hospital, which helped mitigate most of those effects. I’m sure if I’d been watching everything unfold in real time — that would’ve been overwhelming.” 

Another hand from the right section pops into the air. Boyd nods. 

Your name first, in accented English, then a question in Japanese reaches your ears. Miranda is translating in the next second. 

“Will you be returning to Night Owl anytime soon?”

“Tomorrow, actually. I’ll be back. Unless another concussion takes me out. Or an allergic reaction.”

“Don’t worry,” Brown says. “We’ll keep you safe.”

More laughter. 

A hand from the right side again. Another question translated. 

“Are you a fan of the Padres? Is that why you were there?”

You grin. “Not at all. That was the first time I’d set foot in Petco Park and that was the first game I’d ever seen. Of the Padres and honestly, of baseball, too. I’ve never been much of a fan.”

A quick follow-up question in everyone’s mind. Why were you there?

You’d gone to the game to buff up your portfolio and to see if anything you shot could be sold off. To them or to Getty Images. The ticket was from your sister, as she and her flight crew received them from one of the kinder pilots she had but it was only a single ticket and she wasn’t too interested in baseball, either. You saw the opportunity to make a little money on the side and you took it. 

You give them the cliff notes version of that. Mostly about getting some pictures for your portfolio. You leave out the money part. 

A few people make some jokes about your poor luck — your first ever baseball game and you get severely concussed? — then they continue with the questions. 

For you and for Miyuki and then even some for the managers, like about whether they’ll make any changes to the stands. Which they won’t. It’s too far out. You get that. You don’t even think they net those areas in Japan. 

Then you and Miyuki get a question together. 

“Hi. Haley Martin with the San Diego Union-Tribute. I wanted to ask you guys — will you keep in touch after this?”

Every reporter in the room holds in a breath, leaning forward, pens poised and recorders ready. 

Jeez. These guys are desperate. 

You can’t help but make your jokes. 

“You know,” you start thoughtfully, “I think in the interest of living a very long life… no.”

They laugh, including Miyuki. 

“Seriously, guys,” Haley says, smiling faintly, too. “Will you be friends?”

“I’ll only be friends with her if she promises to start supporting the Padres.”

You laugh. Miyuki gives you a grin. 

“Only if you pay for my tickets.”

“We’ll give you a lifetime season pass, if you want,” Brown puts in. “Just don’t sue us.”

You snort. The others laugh. 

“Well?”

You beam. “We’ll be best friends forever.”

“Now, I didn’t say that —”

“No take-backsies.”

That gets everyone going. He laughs, too, which is really all you care about. 

“A few more question, folks, then we’ll wrap this up,” Boyd says. 

A familiar hand. Haley again. 

She directs this to you. 

“Is it true that KCSD plans to shut down Night Owl?”

Murmurs erupt in the room, bodies shuffling. Miranda briefly falters in her translation before completing it. 

She’s been holding onto that one. You can tell. There is no malice in it, though. 

They’re reporters, journalists, this is their job. To report. To chase every lead. To keep people honest. There are lines, of course, between responsibility and irresponsibility. This question is very much responsible. No one can dispute that. And you are just one person. If the company had sent someone down, they could’ve handled it. 

As it is…

“I don’t speak for the KCSD. I’d just like to say that. I’m only speaking for myself, someone who does coincidentally happen to be Night Owl’s host. To set the context of your question, before all of this happened, Night Owl had experienced a drop in traffic. We weren’t getting much interaction but there were still people listening. We knew that. I’m happy to be there regardless. I know some people are listening, most often college kids staying up late and well, some night owls, to be sure. 

“But in the world we live in, that’s not enough. So, there was some talk about maybe downsizing the show. But that was a while ago, before this happened. I know we’ve gotten many more hits since and I’m glad for it. But right now at this moment, I don’t know. Things have changed and I couldn’t tell you.”

Haley nods. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Feels nice to let it all out, you think, as they start to wrap things up. Though you do feel a headache starting to form. Great. 

The rest of the questions are for Miyuki. Something about his contract. You don’t pay too much attention. 

You’d been fair to them, you think. More than fair. But it’s not really about that. You need to make them act, to make a decision. Either they shut you down or they don’t. Will the popularity hold? Who knows? But you can hope that it will, that people will realize you’re there, and they’ll hang around. At the very least, you can keep going for a little while longer. 

The press conference ends. You all shuffle back into that adjacent room. You end up getting pulled into a conversation with Boyd and Brown about that season pass but you politely decline. 

“Well,” he says, “the offer stands. And speaking of offers, if you’d like it, we would love to have you join our photographers.”

Most of the PR team has dispersed, going to handle the outpouring of news that will hit in a few hours. The makeup team is gone, too. It’s just a few security guards, some of the managerial staff, then you guys. Wendy, Miyuki, and Miranda stand a couple feet away, conversing quietly. 

You blink. “Is this to make sure I don’t sue you?”

Brown snorts. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“True.” But he doesn’t need to be so smug about it. 

“No,” Boyd says. “We’ve seen your stuff. We think you’d be great with us. We’re always looking for more cameras and we’re willing to raise your pay, too, to beat out whatever you’re making at the station, too.”

“I… appreciate that.”

“You don’t have to give us an answer now. But preferably sometime next year in January, before we start spring training in February.”

“Right. Thanks.”

You don’t know how to react. You’ve never gotten this kind of offer before. Not for photography, anyhow. You do mostly freelance work. Take pictures of weddings, religious events, et cetera. 

“Think about it,” he says, smiling, then he and Brown turn to join the others. 

What just happened. 

A quiet chuckle behind you. You turn, finding Miyuki. His arms are crossed, an amused expression on his face. 

“You look disturbed.”

“I feel disturbed. Uh. Anyway. We’re on for dinner tomorrow, right? Five o’clock?”

He nods. “What are you doing today?”

“Spending some quality time with Batman and Robin and turning off my phone for the rest of the day.”

“Probably a good idea. Well… you didn’t choke out there. You were actually very…”

“What?”

“Calculating. With the stuff about them shutting you down. It all worked in your favor, didn’t it?” His tone is knowing. 

You smile and shrug. “I’ll do what it takes to keep the show running.”

“It means that much to you?”

“You’d do the same for baseball, wouldn’t you?”

“Touché.” He almost looks impressed. 

You try not to relish it too much. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you.”

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close, and open like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song where it falls down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery; I wanted to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know, whoever I was, I was

alive for a little while.