#i just am stuck in this bind where i am very aware that a lot of what i dig up ends up blowing up on hockey twitter

[hugheses]

whenever i pull stuff from my archives for a fun little post and then ppl get on twitter and act weird about it, it reminds me why i don’t share all the stuff i have saved.

[lonepower]

ok you know what i need more bodysharing/brain roommates. malevolent got me feeling some kind of way and I need MORE. tvtropes has like 15 different categories that are all sort-of-but-not-really under the umbrella of what I'm looking for, and sorting through all of that is a little too unwieldy, so I'm turning to you guys. 

key factors of the specific flavor of "multiple consciousnesses stuck in the same meat suit" that I'm looking for are:

any variation of, a human (or this universe's equivalent [so like, an elf where elves are commonplace would count]) has another, nonhuman consciousness attached to them and only them in such a way that the two can communicate, and subsequently

they Banter Constantly

^that^ is probably the most important qualifier here tbh

second most important qualifier is that they are not separated at the end (this obv. doesn't apply if the thing is still ongoing). it's okay if the passenger gets a new body (cf. subnautica) or is freed from their binding (cf. baldur's gate), as long as the partnership isn't broken.

Related: they don't actually have to SHARE a body (so enchanted objects, an AI implant, a Mysterious Disembodied Voice, an imaginary friend, etc., also count). they just have to be tethered to each other such that the passenger cannot move around or function on their own without a host. (I think this is part of why it's hard to narrow down on tvtropes: it's more about the dynamic than about the specific mechanism of "possession".)

Third most important qualifier is that only the current host can hear/communicate with the passenger, even if other people around them are aware of the passenger's existence.

two humans stuck in the same body is okay as long as the other criteria are met, but I would prefer it if the host is human(/equivalent) and the passenger is not (or vice versa if the passenger/possessor is the one with control of the body, as with things like the yeerks, most demonic possession, etc).

it doesn't have to be romantic. they don't even have to like each other. conversely, it absolutely can be romantic too.

They DO have to be the POV character/s for a significant majority (like, at least 60-75%) of the work, because the internal back-and-forth is the entire point.

Bonus points if: they do actually share a body; they are either never physically separated either, or are rejoined at the end (voluntarily or otherwise); passenger has lots of setting-relevant knowledge/an alien or fantastical perspective, while host shows passenger what it's like to be Alive™; despite constantly butting heads, host and passenger work patently better as a team; super extra bonus points for all of the above 

My favorite examples of what I am looking for:

Malevolent podcast (super extra bonus points x10000000000000000)

Venom movies (this is probably the codifier for most people here tbh) (super extra bonus points)

Subnautica: Below Zero (AL-AN gets their own body but stays with Robin, and it hits all of the others)

Forspoken (super extra bonus points)

the "a bagel. two bagels." vine

(I know there's a couple others that I'm just blanking on. If I remember them, I'll add them.)

other things that have moments or flavors of this, but aren't focused on it/don't quite hit all of them:

the Bartimaeus trilogy had it at the end a little, but, well. it didn't last very long. (i STILL haven't recovered from that ending and i was, what? 15 or something? g o d)

the emperor in bg3 kiiiinda counts since they're magically bound to the player/party and can't exist outside their prison, but they do have their own body and are not nearly as chatty as I'm  looking for. also, while only the holders of the prism can hear them, All of the holders of the prism can hear them and I'd really prefer one-on-one.

I think Death Note would also count? I read it in like 6th grade and never finished it so my memory is patchy At Best, but since nobody else can interact with Ryuk, he's bound to whoever holds the notebook, and he's the supplier of the holder's powers, it's close enough that I would accept something similar.

Slay the Princess has the bickering in spades and fulfills the "do not separate" criterion depending on your ending, although the jury's out on whether the voices are Actually their own entities or just symptoms of you losing it. Also, nobody in it is human. The bickering is definitely good enough to make up for it though. (The fact that it's Jonny Sims clearly having a grand old time might have something to do with it...)

with the caveat that I have not watched any of it, i think jadzia (and?) dax from ds9 miiight count, but they're part of an ensemble cast and thus fail the "pov characters for a majority of the work" and "we get to hear their constant internal banter" criteria.

things I tried that fit at least some criteria, but didn't like for various reasons:

the good demon by jimmy cajoleas. promising concept, but 1) the protagonist smokes, which is an instant and unnegotiable dealbreaker (seriously, who makes their protagonist do that in The Year Of Our Lord Anything Later Than 1950?? and to a child? DEATH. ONE MILLION YEARS DUNGEON.), and 2) I looked it up and they separate at the end anyways, so there's even LESS of a point. 

the venom comics. honestly I just... really dislike superhero comics, there's always way too many of them to keep track of + I'm very shallow and they're usually unbearably ugly to me (and also having started with the movies I just found comics!eddie really unpleasant tbh) 

parasyte manga. perfect concept, great dynamic, but its particular brand of body horror was... not great for me and I had to put it down. (horror in and of itself isn't a dealbreaker, though, so if you've got something similar that doesn't involve lots of hands bent at nauseating angles, I'll gladly take it.)

Cyberpunk 77 has the two-humans flavor of this and hits almost all of the other criteria, but i viscerally hated literally everything about j*hnny s*lverhand with every fiber of my being and the rest of the game was so mediocre already that i just gave up

....I know it's a highly specific/potentially niche dynamic, but if anyone has any recs, PUHLEEASE hmu!!! I'm looking for original work rather than fanfiction, but apart from that, format doesn't matter at all (although if it's some like super difficult indie game or something, I probably won't get very far lol). the MAIN points are 1) bickering and 2) host-and-passenger, so if you have something that hits those but not the others, feel free to share it anyway!

[sitp-recs]

hiii i just breezed through that slutty drarry reclist wheww you’re doing god’s work what a wonderful list!!!! i see you’re getting a lot of asks lately so feel free to answer this (or not!!) whenever you feel like it, but i was wondering if you knew of any fics where harry gives up his slutty lifestyle for draco, sort of like “harry potter gives a shit” by talithan. i would prefer if it was harry but the vice versa is also fine! we’re so lucky to have you in this fandom and i feel grateful every time i see your posts on my dash, thank you so much for everything!!! <3

Hello my friend! Love that for us, I’ve had lots of fun putting that slutty reclist together and am always happy to find taste twins when it comes to smut 😏 personally I’ve been more into open relationships lately but you might enjoy these fics where either Harry or Draco have casual sex before getting together:

Harry:

Amber by @slytherco (E, 4.7k)

Despite his numerous flings, Harry's thoughts keep circling back to Draco, only half-aware of his perpetual draw where they're not strangers, not-quite friends, but definitely something. When they both get played by the same person, Harry and Draco find a way to get back at him, and maybe get something extra out of it as a result.

100 Beats per Minute by @oknowkiss (E, 14k)

When Draco left the Magical World behind at nineteen, he didn't expect the cusp of thirty would find him comfortable and secure, with a stable life and a successful career as a sex columnist.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Famous by @fw00shy (E, 24k)

It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models.

Terrible People by wolfpants (E, 53k)

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

Draco:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Death Dreams by @writcraft (E, 9.5k)

Draco likes to keep things casual, or at least he did before Harry Potter barged back into his life.

Keep your hands on me by @tenthousandyearsx (E, 21k)

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

The Things We Need by @Kbrick (E, 25k) - established Drarry, polyamory

Three hundred and fifty-three days out of the year, Harry is in a monogamous, fufilling relationship with Draco Malfoy. Then there are the other twelve days.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

[thegodthief]

The good thing about being a lucid dreamer: No matter what is happening, you know it's a dream and that you're going to wake up, eventually.

The bad thing about being a lucid dreamer: Super fidelity experiences, to the point where they feel more real than the memories that spawned them.

This didn't happen. This is a mashup of memories, but this didn't happen. My fellow church goers are kneeling around me as I'm laid out on the bench seat. It has been decades and I see their faces as clear as the day I walked away. They lay their hands on me, on my arms, on my legs, on my feet, on my shoulders, on my face. The pastor proceeding over this matter tells them to ignore any sound I make because the possession has me in full and until I am purged, nothing I do can be trusted.

She did say that a lot after I called her father out, didn't she. She tells them to pray for the release of my spirit, even if it took killing the flesh so that my soul could be whole. And she said that, too. I stuck around for how long? Bloody hell.

The fit threatening to dismantle my joints is quiet this time. Just a lot of contortions and muscle cramping from the demand to hold longer than the body has reserves to fuel. It's very unsettling to look at. The odd croaking and cracking from my mouth doesn't help. If they would just leave me alone, the fit will work itself out in just a few minutes and then I can rest.

But they don't leave me alone. I have no medical history of epilepsy, after all. When the fits started, I was encouraged to seek medical help, until that night I fell into trance at a home session and said some things about the head pastor that made all the dogs howl. Just because I was right didn't mean I had the right to say it, except he had been herding me into leaning into it. He kept telling me that as long as I was yielding to holy authority that it was okay to let go, okay to let the power flow, okay to be used as a mouthpiece for something that terrified me each time I felt it approaching.

It was okay until he heard something he didn't want to hear and now it's not okay and the mongrel has to be chased out before the disease spreads.

The fit eases and I'm able to move at will. Well, as much as I can with the twelve people pushing against me to hold me in place. I look up and see the glint of polished steel. A... Dagger?! Well that never happened ever! She's holding a dagger over me while preaching to the gathered congregation about the necessity of throwing the flesh to the flames of hell so the spirit can be saved. But I know I'm dreaming, so I try to see which memory this is a riff of.

In a flash I remember the memory represented by the dagger. The cold steel would hurt less. What will not yield to power, will be destroyed by power. She lays a hand on my chest and a lightning bolt flashes through the ceiling, through the suspended dagger, and into my chest, shattering my awareness.

The burial cloth is tight against my dead body, holding me in place. I am angry because they didn't bother to complete the rites and embalm me. So desperate to get rid of the seed of dissension that they skip treating the flesh in lieu of sealing the spirit in a leaking vessel. This didn't happen. I'm dead? Da fuq? Oh yea, dreaming still.

But it did happen, just not physically. I didn't have fits until I started going to that church, and it has taken a lot of work to undo the bindings and mental damage inflicted upon me there. In a way, they did succeed in killing me. I guess it's a good thing their burial rites were as shallow as their faith.

But why am I dreaming this now? Why like this?

My wrapped body lies still in a shallow grave dug in a ditch just off the dirt crossroads. One path is the back way to get to that church, but the intersecting path didn't physically exist. Without sight, I know that this area is visible from the back doors of the church, but only if you know where to look. They buried me here as a warning to the others.

Day becomes night. While I know I am dreaming, I have not attempted to free myself from the bindings, the grave, or the dream. Too many wounds in my soul have been ripped open and I am struggling not to suffocate in them.

In the sky, a figure ascends even as they descend. Forever suspended between heaven and earth, they watch. With my dream-sight, I see them and I am transfixed upon their being. They reveal themselves to my horror and I become as stone in my fright.

"How long do you intend to lie there, [Redacted]?"

I remember. I remember everything. I remember all that happened between the brutal beatings exorcisms in that church to what happened before I went to bed last night. All of it.

"Rot. Or not. But choose before the choice is made for you."

I feel the decaying burial cloth tighten around my thickening body. My death is being unwound and the fluids lost from decay are solidifying into flesh and veins again. Just because this was my past, doesn't mean it has to remain my present.

I have everything I need to move on, to dig out of the grave they left me in, to get away from the fate they wanted for me. I just have to accept it and go.

I am suddenly more afraid by the choice than I am by the one offering it. What will happen to me if I choose to live?

"You will be made a sacrifice, same as if you didn't. But you choose what you will sacrifice yourself for. That is the difference."

I'm so tired. So very tired. Tired of fighting for the right to sit in the same room, to be seen as an equal, to be regarded as anything but a plaything and a toy, to BREATHE. If I remain in this grave, I won't have to fight ever again.

But I know that not all dead are at rest. Every time I yielded control to someone who promised to protect me in life, I was made into a fetish by the one I yielded to and forced to fight for my freedom.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

I said nothing to the figure above me. Instead, I pushed out with reformed arms and dug up with filth stained hands until I was able to rip the soggy remains of the burial cloth from my face and fill my lungs with the sharp currents of the cold night air.

I looked up to the sky and saw them hanging from the stars. Their visage terrified me and comforted me at the same time.

"I choose to live."

"Then get up and go, [Redacted]. Leave this grave, and those who put you here, behind."

I pulled myself out of the shallow grave completely. My naked body was stained by the scars of exorcisms and marked by the mud I was reformed from.

I stood there, unsteady on remade feet, and looked down the path to the building that I know no longer exists and a field that was paved over a few years after I left. I knew I was dreaming, but I also knew I had to start leaving the past in the grave it dug for itself or I would be buried in it again and again.

I turned to look down the path that never was. The landscape shifted and rewove itself even as I attempted to fix it with my gaze. "Welp, the only way out is through." I stumbled from the grave onto the uneven and rocking ground that was the crossroads and then with great determination, left the crossroads along the path that never was.

The moment my feet left the path of my memories, the dream collapsed around me and I knew nothing more.

[morlock-holmes]

One thing people always say to try to get shy people less scared of asking people out, is, "Well, what's the worst that could happen, she says no?"

And my answer to that, which I believed seriously for a long time, and have trouble really shaking even now, was,

"No, the worst thing that could happen is that I could contribute to a patriarchal society that believes that all women who dress or look a certain way are sexually available, forcing women to deal with constant unwanted sexual attention whenever they try to simply exist in society.

"And also I could put an individual in a position where they have to turn me down despite knowing that men often become angry, irrational or even violent when turned down, forcing her to push back her actual feelings to placate a potentially dangerous stranger.

"THAT'S the worst thing that could happen. That actually sounds so bad that I don't see how I can justify taking the risk just because potentially causing that kind of thing might make me happy."

And what I have spent a long time grappling with is that the more of an "online leftist" type someone is, the more unprepared they are for that to come out of a man's mouth.

If I'm talking to normie centrists they say, "Wow, it sounds like that's some people who have had some very bad experiences projecting those experiences onto the whole world, and not everybody feels that way."

Various strains of right-wingers will go, "Well, yeah, no shit, you're coming to the wrong conclusions because the premise is wrong, but of course you'd believe that if everybody around you keeps saying it all the time."

But online leftist types get stuck in the bind of simultaneously having to agree that, yes, I am repeating things that they say a lot, and yes, it IS important that I be very aware of that stuff, but like, the conclusion is wrong so there must be an error somewhere.

The best I've been able to get from a committed lefty on this stuff is, "Well, YOU know that you'll react reasonably if you say no, so it's not a big deal, right?"

To which my answer is, "That doesn't make any sense. Suppose I met a stranger at a bar and we had a conversation for twenty minutes, would it be okay to go, 'Hey, could I borrow your car for a while?' After all, I know that I'm going to be responsible with their car and give it back and I know that if they say 'No' I'll be reasonable, but they don't know that, and it puts them in an incredibly awkward position. How can dating and sex be more dangerous then lending somebody your car but less of a big deal to ask for?"

And then they just go, "Man, it sounds like you need therapy."

It's not just that in left-wing circles there is often hostility towards men, it's that there's also this sort of complete inability to even imagine a coherent way in which men could understand themselves or their place in society. An emphasis on the necessity of a total transformation in male thought lives side by side with a total inability to deal with men who actually try to make that transformation, and even a kind of impatience. As a man you must simultaneously take all of this stuff extremely seriously and simultaneously blow it off, and the two possible reactions to that are to go insane or become comfortable with truly massive amounts of hypocrisy around some of the most important things in your life.

Whatever else you can say about various right-wing countermovements, a giant part of their appeal is that they offer a way out of that bind.

PS - Also, I really want to emphasize this: Both normie centrists and right-wing weirdos are very willing to go, "Wow, those are some very extreme positions you've been exposed to, no wonder you're nervous when people are always using such heightened language to talk about this stuff!"

Lefties tend to have this reaction of confusion as to why you're reaching such histrionic conclusions. Like, they get genuinely confused as to how reading, "Men are afraid women will laugh at them, women are afraid men will kill them" over and over would ever lead to a man thinking he made the women around him afraid?

A big reason MRA/Andrew Tate stuff is appealing to so many normies is that it's *significantly* more logical and rigorous than the queer theory stuff that's suddenly become mandated by most institutions.

Now, of course, I'm not saying I believe it. All I'm saying is a young person today is presented with two options: the first says that biological sex is fake and that were it not for oppressive social structures humanity would default into a genderless mass in which everyone looked the same and have no discernable preferences in regards to sexual attraction. The other says no, actually, that's complete bullshit.

Oh, and also, the now-mainstream side is very openly disdainful of young men and male heterosexuality in particular, to the extent that it's perfectly normal for young men to be told that their very existence is the cause of all the world's problems and they will never be able to cleanse themselves of their evil.

Gee golly I wonder why they'd listen to literally anyone else?

People have a natural aversion to ideas that are very obviously insane. Most people have some degree of dignity, or at least a lack of burning self-hatred. It takes a very specific form of prolonged conditioning to make anyone stupid enough to fall for this shit, and I'm sorry but there's just not enough English majors out there to make your little project socially viable.

[uselessidiotsquad]

OC Interview pt2 - With a Twist

Rather than the standard interview, I went with the characters to character one for introducing Toraedh!

Ruby: Hello!

???: Hello.

Ruby: So I'm to be interviewing you I think. I'm Ruby! I'm Commander of the Pact.

???: Yes, I am aware.

Ruby: Let's see then, introduce yourself please!

???: I mean I can but I'm not sure that it's really a good idea for either of us?

Ruby: In some deep brambles I take it?

???: Good observation but yes.

Ruby: Can I have an initial then or something to call you by that won't get you in trouble?

T: Just "T" would work, and thanks.

Ruby: You got it! That's gonna make this a strange interview. I don't usually recommend people lie about things but for this one if you need to go ahead.

T: (laughs) Okay, thanks for the permission, Ruby. What all can I say. I am sort of in a precarious place between projects. My calling requires me to be in the company of less than sterling individuals. I wanted to be a Mender before my current career path chose me.

Ruby: Why didn't go you for being a Mender?

T: I wasn't seen fondly by many of the mentors at the time of my Saplinghood. Any ideas I had were quickly dismissed and side-eyed.

Ruby: Did they tell you to be something else or did you get stuck with it? It was like that with me, I was supposed to be an instructor for fledgling Rangers but got stuck with Pact babysitting. Not complaining! Just you know - it's not teaching saplings.

T: Eh, not exactly. They took one look at my Dream and suddenly everyone got jittery around me. I've sort of had Dreamers against me for a while now. Most of them anyway. And you mean working to keep the single largest organized military force going isn't akin to telling a sapling the pointy end of the arrow goes away from them? Color me shocked.

Ruby: Well if it's any consolation, I'm not against you.

T: Thanks, Commander.

Ruby: No - it's Ruby! You're not in the Pact, none of this Commander business. What's your favorite food?

T: Oh that's a hard one. Chips and salsa are hard to beat.

Ruby: Good choice, good choice. I like to put mangos in my salsa but Riag fusses about it. Hot or mild?

T: Always spicy.

Ruby: Let's see what other questions do we have (she looks at a sticky note) ah here we are - if you can answer; what is an average day like for you?

T: That is a good question. It varies a lot, honestly. If I'm working on a project, it usually means gathering information on the Court I'm going to be infiltrating and trying to blend in as much as possible. On days where I'm not - it's sleep and be lazy as much as Sho will let me get away.

Ruby: Can I ask who Sho is?

T: You certainly can. She's my beloved and one of the nicest people you will ever meet. At times I think she's too kind - but that's just me, I'm a bit of a cynic. We share a Dream, for the most part, which hasn't earned favor for either of us. Her end of it was less detailed mine was very cut and dry for what it meant for me. ...I'm not sure where all I'd be without her at times. Ah, well, actually, I do know where I'd be but it's not for discussion among polite company.

Ruby: I wanted to ask about your Dream but am I right to gather it's a bit touchy?

T: You could say that.

Ruby: Fair enough! Is there anything else you'd like to share before I go back to trying to get a batch of muffins done?

T: Not that I can think of without potentially getting myself into a bind. Thank you for having me, it's been a treat, I don't usually manage to get more than a few words out before someone's prickly with me.

Ruby: Thanks for stopping by for a moment! You're welcome to drop by for a muffin or two whenever you have a moment.

[interact-if]

Day 6 of A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! Perceive Nines, me, yours truly!

Nines, author of Orthall Bay

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

[…]The name always stuck, regardless of how many foster families you fell under. It should be comforting that at least one aspect of you will always stay the same, but it’s a stark reminder of how isolated you are. A name with nothing to belong to, nothing to trace back to. Then again, you’ve managed to get this far just on your own.

In Orthall Bay, an in-development interactive fiction, you play as a young adult who grew up as an orphan. You have no knowledge about your parents, or any form of family. That is, until you get a phone call about a recently-passed man claiming to be your grandfather. Two things are certain when you arrive in the maritime town. One, Orthall Bay is seemingly idyllic. And two, there’s no such thing as perfect towns.

The question is, how deep does its roots go?

Author's Ko-fi

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

My current project is about you, an orphan, who moves to a fictional tourist town in California after being left as a beneficiary of your estranged late grandfather’s will. Orthall Bay is rich with supernatural myths and superstitious legends, and it has always thrived like that. Not long after your arrival, you start to notice that a lot of things about the seemingly arcadian town don't add up. At the center of it? You, and your equally estranged half-uncle.

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

Ooh, this is a bit tricky to answer! There’s so many things I’m looking forward to exploring with writing Orthall Bay, it’s hard to nitpick a few. Right now, I’m excited about building characters with depth that people would both be able to criticize and appreciate. It’s an easy choice to write characters you know your audience is coded to love and/or admire, but I want to explore the opportunities with character development depth that interactive fiction brings. Who knows, maybe I’m thinking of allowing my characters to go down the paths less taken.

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

Ah, man, I just know my October 2020 self is burying their head under a pillow right now. The idea for Orthall Bay was actually a mosaic of lines from fics of various fandoms, but what really set off the lightbulb was a line from a Teen Wolf fic. It’s very telling of the direction I want to take this project, so I won’t write it down, but I am going to leave a tiny crumb. One word: widdershins.

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

Orthall Bay is set in California which houses a sizable Asian-Pacific Islander population, but that being said, it’s not heavily focused on. A lot of my characters are A/PI but I can’t definitively say that I’m rooting from my own identity. It’s a supernatural book, and I’m drawing from all sorts of mythological creatures and lores and making them into my own. So, in a way, I’m allowing Orthall Bay to be a project where I let it take an identity of its own. I’m pretty sure I’ll come up with future projects that are more SEA-centric though!

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the IF community…

The jump from writing novels to writing interactive fiction was a bit of an adjustment. I haven’t been a very consistent writer, but most of my works were novels and its fixed worlds. Interactive fiction is different because you have to actively bind the story together in a way that makes your reader feel involved. And you have to be constantly aware of that. I still end up drafting a chapter, only to realize I forgot to lay out options that matter. It’s definitely a learning curve, but it’s worth it and very rewarding.

As for the IF community, I genuinely believe it’s one of the most welcoming and supportive communities I’ve had the pleasure of being a part of. Really, it’s heartwarming to see writers excited about their upcoming projects and being met with equal, if not more, enthusiasm from a potential audience. It’s not without flaws, sure, but the sheer amount of support you can garner is incredible. As a writer trying out a new medium, it’s one of the things that helped boost my confidence to continue working on my project.

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

I do! GFTA is my baby, and I plan on nurturing it for a long time. Currently, I have about three ideas I’m considering to turn into actual projects, one of them being sci-fi and inspired by a game. As of now though, I’ll mostly be working on Orthall Bay. This is due to restrictions from my schedule, but it’s safe to say that I’ll be around for more than just a while. I’m absolutely dedicated to establishing my own platform within the IF community.

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

Hmm, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask since I’ve only recently started writing interactive fiction, but I’d like to say this: you are your first and last audience. Always. Every project starts off as self-indulgence to some degree or extent, and that’s okay. Write what you want to write, not what everyone demands. Pleasing your audience is a grey area and you won’t be able to satisfy everyone. It’s important to take criticism into account, but please remember you don't owe anyone anything for writing media that they actively have a choice whether or not to consume.

[starkidpotty]

In Cahoots [HJP]

Request: hey omg your writing is so good! can I request Harry and reader being friends and having detention with umbridge together and then walking back together to the common room late at night and taking care of each other and then they admit their feelings for each other? Have a wonderful day! 💕💕 - anon

You never mean to say or do most things, but this time it works out for the better.

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, scars, and wounds

A/N: I deviated from them being friends ;( i love awkward teen interactions too much. i hope u enjoy it regardless! <3 

Punishments for misbehavior at Hogwarts were never bloody. Scary, perhaps, but never bloody. Umbridge made it clear she did not care much for this unwritten rule, and had a taste for a more medieval way of disciplining the students. Harry was the first person to incur damage from Dolores’ sadistic black quill, until you found yourself in detention with him. Your reason for detention was stupid (Umbridge’s rules were stupid) as you were found by the Inquistorial squad with a dungbomb you had no intention of using in your pocket. Meanwhile, Harry was serving day three out of his 2 week detention with Umbridge. You mournfully hated that this was the most interaction you and him have had outside of the DA meetings.

Both of you were tasked to repeatedly write I must not break rules until it was scabbed and bleeding onto your hands. You were sat next to Harry, on your 28th or 29th repetition of the line–you lost count, as the pain started to amplify the more you wrote. Umbridge was looking quite pleased with herself, as she paced back and forth while watching the both of you with a nefarious grin plastered onto her ugly face. Tears had started to pool in your eyes making them appear like watercolor-painted puddles. You were trying your hardest to suck them back into your tear ducts to no avail. Tear by slow tear began to crawl its way down your face and onto the empty parchment as you wrote with your quill. The effect of the quill for some odd reason was extreme on your hand. You were bleeding more profusely than your contemporaries, you noticed.

Umbridge finally relinquished the both of you from the painful task and you immediately took hold of your book bag, haphazardly dropping the black quill onto the floor, and flounced to the exit, beating Harry to it.

Your lips were pressed together in a fine line, trying to stifle in a cry until you rounded a corner and sat on the nearest bench. In a desperate attempt to get the bleeding to stop, you carelessly unknotted your Gryffindor tie and tied it over the wounds. You sat for a few seconds, pressing firmly on the wound to get it to stop bleeding. Your tears were now free flowing at this point.

Harry spots you from his peripherals, as he exits detention. Harry walks over to you to comfort you, as he knows how terrible the wounds are the first time around. You, on the other hand, were so fixated on the wound, that as you stood up to go to the girl’s lavatory, the top of your head made contact with Harry’s jaw. 

Harry takes a few steps back, surprised by the sudden contact between your scalp and his chin. And, you are now nursing two boo-boos instead of the one. Harry composes himself quickly and takes steps toward, while still clutching his jaw. You are holding your head and while your hand bleeds freely over the floor, even with the tie wrapped around it.

“You’re, uh, bleeding,” He stammers as his eyes follow the drops of blood. He swoops to take your hand and unravel the red-stained, makeshift Gryffindor tie bandage, carelessly placing it in his front pocket. He tries his best to be gentle but failing as you wince, “Quite a lot.”

“I am fairly well-aware, Harry.” You didn’t mean for this to come off as snarky, but as the pain and bleeding on your hand intensify, you really couldn’t control your tone, even if it was Harry that was talking to you.

“Of course, sorry.” He replies to you sheepishly, “I’ll help you clean it up, if it’s alright.” Harry took this opportunity to not only help you, but to be able to stand in such close proximity to you–something he’s been pathetically inching towards the whole school year. 

He doesn’t wait for your response and leads you to the girl’s lavatory, heading straight to the sink. He turns the faucet on and gently takes your hand under the running water. He wipes away the blood with both his hands, and you stare at his hand. Underneath the newly minted wounds were faded and healing wounds spelling out “I must not tell lies”. 

The pain made its presence on your hand very clear, but your thoughts were swirling around erratically. Harry Potter was tending to your wounds, holding your hand, standing oh-so painstakingly close to you in the girl’s lavatory. Your little schoolgirl crush on him started after the Yule Ball and stayed ever since. So, regardless of how much pain you were in, you were enjoying his presence. 

He’s fixated on your hands as quite literally, the bleeding wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he pressed. Also because he was too shy to look at you, square in the face. 

“With all the bleeding, I’d guess you were a hemophiliac,” Harry declares seriously, trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable.

You didn’t know whether to take this as a joke or an insult as you, being the pureblood you were, did not know what a hemophiliac was. You give him a confused look, head tilted slightly, brows furrowed at the center. Harry, on the other hand, was beating himself up for trying to cut the silence in such a dumb way. 

“Sorry? Is that a muggle joke?” You question. 

“Oh, er, sorry,” He awkwardly stammers out, “It’s a muggle condition where your wounds don’t quite necessarily know when to stop bleeding.” 

All you muster is a softly-spoken, oh. You were still awkwardly standing with your hand in Harry’s. Harry turns off the faucet and  grabs your tie out from his pocket. He dabs it gently and presses it firmly onto your wounded hand. With his free hand, he fishes his wand from his pocket. 

Uncovering your tie from the wound he says, “Episkey,” while pointing his wand at your hand. The wounds scabbed over, stopping the bleeding. As your tie is drenched in blood (you were astounded at how much blood your hand let out, perhaps you were what muggles called a “hemophiliac”), Harry unties his own tie and wraps it around your scabbed hand for good measure. You take this opportunity to wipe your face dry with your untouched hand. He hands you your bloodied tie and you shove it into your bookbag. 

He stares at you and smiles, “I hope that would help, one way or another.” He’s still holding your wounded hand and stares at you. You look to meet his eyes and for a few seconds your eyes lock. You get red in the face and look down quickly. Harry lets out an awkward chuckle and gently drops your hand out of his. 

“Thank you, Harry, but what about your wounds?” You ask him as now you take his wounded hand. You examine the scar on his left-hand. You rub your thumb gently near the wounds, paying extra attention to not gloss over the newly formed scabs. He tamely takes his hand away from you and hangs it at his side.

“I’ll manage.” He replies to you. Not wanting to give you the chance to contest he continues, “Uh, would you like to head back to the common room together?” 

“I don’t think we’ve much a choice,” you respond, smiling lightly.  

Walking out the girl’s lavatory–thanking Merlin that no one saw Harry scamper out the door–and make your way to the Gryffindor tower. The silence is extremely awkward. Harry sneaks glances at you, as you look out to the Hogwarts courtyard to ease out of whatever mental bind you’ve put on your tongue. 

“So, Ha–” you begin. At the same time, Harry opens his mouth to speak uttering the first syllable of your name. You both look down at the floor, grinning like idiots. 

“Sorry,” Harry says, “Please, you first.”

You let out a breathless half-giggle, “Umbridge’s quill is quite evil, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Harry wanted to scream into a cauldron. Months of imagining a full-on conversation with you in his head and all he could muster was a puny indeed? 

Another awkward pause takes a hold of the two of you. 

You begin again, “So… are you and Cho, er, together? In cahoots?” You mentally slap yourself on the forehead. What kind of teenager  says cahoots unironically?

“Me? Cho?” Harry questions you, looking bewildered. Harry was surprised at your question, as he thought his pitiful pining over you was already painfully obvious.

“Is-is it not a thing?” You stammer out, a bit surprised. 

“Not in the slightest.” Confirms Harry. 

“Well, I only ask,” You pause, trying to recollect your thoughts and choose your words carefully, “because you too seem very close.”

“Well, she’s a good friend, but no. We aren’t together. She’s still mourning Cedric.” 

“Oh, I can only imagine.”

A third awkward silence takes you both once more. You are unaware, but Harry is just as nervous as you are. You and Harry have finally made it to the moving staircases, you two make your way up. Just as you hit the middle of the staircase, it moves, leaving you and Harry stuck until it returns to its original position. Harry wanted to throw himself off of the magical staircase right about now.

Harry thinks this is as good a time as ever to sneakily confirm–hopefully deny–his suspicions and continues the conversation, “What about you, and, uh, Anthony Goldstein?” 

Your face reflexively cringes and Harry smiles at the scene, “Have I said something?” 

“Yes, you said Anthony Goldstein.” 

“Well, I thought you and he were in cahoots.” He jokes at you, trying to fake confidence.

You bury your face in your hands, “Merlin, he was a git. He was quite rude to me after he told me how he felt about me because I confessed I had a little crush on you.” You immediately regret the oversharing of information as Harry eyes widen. But deep down, he’s more relieved than not, as you had accidentally made the proverbial first move.

You try and play it off with a laugh, “Well, I mean, they say you are the Chosen One, and, uh I think you are quite nice-looking,” Nice-looking? you think to yourself. You continue to save yourself the embarrassment, “you’re great at spells too, and, uh, very brave, I’d say.”

Harry goes red in the face at your flurry of compliments, but he only repeats, “Nice-looking?”

“Quite.” 

Harry doesn’t know what force propels him to start acting all cheekily with you but he says, “I think you’re, er, quite nice-looking as well. Talented at spells, too.” 

“So I guess it’s agreed upon then?” you ask him. 

“Sorry?” 

“That we both think we are nice-looking...and good at spellwork.” You joshed. 

“If anything, I think you’re more than quite nice-looking–you’re very beautiful.” Harry says so quickly, it’s almost a miracle he didn’t trip over his tongue.

It’s as though your’s and Harry’s faces were having a contest on who could make who redder–you were sure you were winning.

“That’s you, I think.” You say to return the compliment, then subsequently groaning realizing how it came out.

“You think I’m beautiful too?” Harry bantered.. 

“Much more beautiful than me, I suppose.” 

The staircase finally shifts to the correct landing and the both of you ascend to the Gryffindor tower entrance, Harry says the password, gesturing for you to step in first. You turn to him to thank him but your lips meet his cheek instead. You inadvertently tell him you have a crush on him and then you inadvertently make a move on him, not even 2 minutes apart? What a mess. 

“Merlin, sorry, Harry! I didn’t realize you were so close.” You apologize. 

“No worries, [Y/N]” He says without looking at you as his stomach suddenly turned into a trapeze artist and started doing flips upon flips. 

Thank Merlin there was no one in the common room to watch you and Harry make bumbling fools of yourselves. You both pause at the entryway of the common room, until you begin to speak.

“I want to say thank you, by the way,” You say. You begin to unravel his tie from your hand, seeing as your hand was no longer hurting. “Here’s your, uh, tie, by the way. Thank you for tending to it, even if you didn’t have to.” 

“Anytime,” Harry replies. 

You turn to head to the stairs to make way to your dormitory but Harry calls out.

“I just want to repeat that me and Cho aren’t, er, dating or, as you call it, in cahoots. ” He says to you.

“You’ve said that,” You tell him while smiling. 

“Perhaps, you and I could be in cahoots–I mean it could be something you and I could work toward, if it’s alright with you, but if it’s not, it’s completely fine, I’d still think you’re very beautiful regardless.” Harry is rapping at this point, heart beating in his ears.

You’re surprised and extremely elated at Harry’s burst of confidence, “It is alright by me, Harry. I think I’d like that–I know I would, actually.”

“Brilliant. Absolutely excellent.” He beams. 

“Absolutely.” 

--

masterlist here

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[jester-png]

Chapter 1 of a Techno and Phil immortals au fic I’m channeling my dsmp brainrot into hope you enjoy lol

AO3

He’d grown used to being alone. After centuries of blood and slaughter, he thought he didn’t deserve not to be. His hands were coarse and rough from overuse and the binding on the handle of his sword had worn long ago. He could stand being alone but most of all, he was tired. He’d spent lifetimes robbing and pillaging and murdering, and for what? The voices demanded blood, and they were never satisfied.

He trudged wearily through the snow on that day, returning from his hunt. He dragged his game behind him, a large deer that must've weighed at least 250 pounds. The animal dyed the snow a deep crimson as he dragged it, and the color very nearly matched that of his cloak. His breathing was heavy and labored, and his legs felt as though they could give out at one wrong step. By the gods, he was tired.

He could see his cabin in the distance. He told himself it was right there, he only had to keep walking a few minutes more.

No. You'll never make it. Give up.

It was at times like these, when his fatigue was at its peak, that he had trouble tuning them out. Snowflakes stuck in his eyelashes, and he dropped the deer behind him. He needed to shed weight just to make it home, and he knew he could come back and get it later. His muscles ached, a small, drawn out pain that he'd carried for longer than he could remember. Except now, there was nothing to distract him. No kingdoms to overthrow, no children to orphan, no blood left to be spilled for miles. Just him, and the snow. His vision blurred, and he found himself stumbling. His fall was cushioned by the fluffy snow beneath him. As he drifted out of consciousness, the cold of the snow on his skin was the only thing he could sense, along with the silence of his surroundings.

He'd always liked snow. At least, he thought he had. When you were as old as he was, "always" seemed like such an insignificant word. His memories of childhood were nearly nonexistent at that point, but every once in a while he'd get glimpses, small feelings or familiar scents that reminded him of something distant. The one thing he was certain about his past was the snow. He remembered sitting out in the snow for hours on end as a child, just watching in wonderment. He loved how monochromatic the world got when it snowed, like the gods had taken a paintbrush and recolored everything in greyscale. But most of all, he loved the quiet when it snowed. Moments of quiet were rare for him now, but whenever he remembered the snow of his childhood, it always seemed so calm. The world still got quiet when it snowed now, but his voices filled the quiet as quickly as it came. As the years passed, quiet became a foreign concept, and he longed for the cold of days gone by.

"Are you alright, mate?"

He heard a voice in the distance. He tried to move, but felt something heavy pinning him down. Despite his fur lined cloak, he was freezing. As his awareness slowly returned to him, he registered that he was covered in snow.

"Aw, jeez. How long have you been out here?"

The voice was closer now, and he felt the snow on top of him shifting. He tried to move again, and with much effort, he rose to his knees. He tried to stand further, but quickly lost his balance. He felt a pair of arms catch him before he hit the ground.

"Woah, woah! Easy there, mate. We need to warm you up."

His vision was still blurry, and he felt weak. He didn't like to feel weak.

"Is that your cabin?"

He could make out the figure's arm pointing behind him, and he turned his head. He couldn't see through the snow, but he'd always had a good sense of direction, and he knew his cabin was that way. A short "Mm.." was all he could get out.

"Well that's... vague. If it's not yours, I'm sure whoever's it is won't mind."

The figure then hoisted him up on his feet, slinging his arm around their shoulders. Even in the bitter cold, the figure's hand on his wrist was incredibly warm. He was vaguely aware of some dark canopy shielding them from the snow before he slipped back out of consciousness.

He remembered that warmth on his wrist through his sleep, and the warmth had spread through his whole body when he came to. He blinked, and his vision had cleared. He recognized the ceiling of his cabin, and that he was laid on his couch. A fire burned in the hearth, filling the cabin with an amber light and a welcoming warmth. He looked around, and things were neater than he remembered leaving them. His cloak was hung to dry near the fire, and he could smell cinnamon somewhere in the house. His sword and axe were propped against the doorframe, and he could see out the small window on the door that it was dark, and the blizzard was still raging outside.

“Oh, you’re awake!” He cocked his head toward the voice, and saw his rescuer clearly for the first time. There was a man standing in the threshold to the kitchen, a cup of tea in either hand. He was slim, but looked as though he could put up a fight. He had golden hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and a green and white striped bucket hat. “Sorry, mate. I know you’re probably confused.” The man made his way over to the living room, and sat in a chair across from the couch. He placed one of the teacups on the coffee table between them. “I made you some tea. I’m Phil.”

He picked up the teacup and took a sip. Tastes of cinnamon and peppermint filled his mouth. He looked up at the man sat across from him, Phil. Phil had an expectant look on his face.

There was a long silence. “...And your name is?” Phil prompted.

It was then that he realized how out of practice he was at social interaction. He tried to speak, his voice raspy at first from lack of use. “Oh uh... Technoblade.”

Phil stood up and offered a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Technoblade. Sorry for breaking into your house.”

Techno stood and took Phil’s hand. Again, that warmth. “Don’t sweat it. And... thanks for helpin’ me out back  there.”

The two sat back down, and sat in silence for a moment as they both sipped their tea. After a moment, Phil spoke. “Oh! Now that you’re awake, you should sit closer to the fire. Dry out your wings faster.”

Technoblade’s eyes went wide as he registered what Phil had said. He slowly set his teacup down on the table. Then, in one swift movement, he grabbed his cloak and swung it over his shoulders to cover his wings, grabbed his sword, and pointed it at Phil’s face. “You... weren’t exactly supposed to see that.”

Phil stood cautiously, raising his hands in defense. Techno raised his blade with him, the tip just inches from Phil’s face. Phil spoke, his voice shaky. “Woah, careful where you point that mate.”

“Yeah, I really appreciate you gettin’ me back home safe and sound...” Technoblade’s voice was as steady as his blade, experienced in violence and with a taste for blood. “..but I really can’t have you goin’ back where you came from and blabbin’ about that particular feature of mine.”

Yes. Kill. Blood. Kill him. Blood for the Blood God.

Phil wore an expression of hurt, almost betrayal. Techno wondered how a man he just met could trust him enough to feel betrayed. “Technoblade I know we’ve just met, and you’ve no reason to trust me, but please, trust me. I wouldn’t.”

“What, you think I’m an idiot?!” Techno swung his sword down as he raised his voice and stepped closer to Phil. Phil didn’t move. “‘Hey guys, I found this freak with wings in the middle of nowhere, let’s go put his head on a plaque!’ Do you know who I am?”

Yes. Yes. BLOOD.

Phil lowered his hands. “I don’t know who you are, Techno. But I know what you are.” He unbuttoned his cape and let it fall to the floor behind him. From his back extended two obsidian black wings, at least 20 feet in wingspan by Techno’s estimate. The feathers had an iridescent quality, colors shifting in the firelight.

KILL. IT DOESN’T MATTER. KILL. BLOOD. KILL.

Technoblade willed the voices into silence. He needed to think. “You... you’re an immortal?”

“I’m like you, Techno.” Phil gestured to Technoblade’s sword. “Now, will you please put that away? I imagine we have a lot to talk about.”

[yrpreciousmoon]

Morioh Hi-Fi (13/25)

Title: Morioh Hi-Fi (13/25)     All Chapters Here Ongoing Playlist Here Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Pairing: Josuke x Okuyasu; Rohan x Reimi; Koichi x Yukako; more.   Rating: T Description: In an AU where Part 4 never happened, it seems Stand users are still drawn to each other. Rohan Kishibe runs Morioh’s coolest record store, along with the world’s okayest employees: Koichi, Yuya, and Okuyasu. They live happily in their bubble of obscure music references and hipster style points until the fateful day when Josuke Higashikata enters the picture. (aka: Started writing a self indulgent AU heavily inspired by the series and movie High Fidelity, and just decided to lean into it.) Primarily a Josuyasu story, with subplots and minor relationships. And occasionally artwork!

AN: It's Valentine's Day and I got stuck with an xl shift at work! So I am dropping this chapter and running because I LOVE YOU. It's a short chapter but I dunno, read it twice, I'm sowing seeds to reap a whole lot of drama.Anyway, enjoy some not-a-bastard Akira! And the High Fidelity reference I couldn't bear to leave out!

.

Track 12 : Don’t Call it a Comeback

.

“Get the hell away from me, you bastard!”

Yuya bolted out of Rohan's office, followed by the crumpled up piece of drawing paper that was whipped after him.

“Aw, c'mon!” Yuya called back, ducking behind a display. “I only used it a little. Just needed a pick-me-up.”

“I have one rule around here and it's no using powers in the store.”

“ 's true,” Okuyasu chimed it with a nod. “Remember? We signed a waiver 'n everything.”

“That wasn't a legally binding document, Nijimura, that was a napkin.”

Okuyasu shrugged. “Still. It was a blood oath.”

“Only because you had just been in a bar fight and were bleeding everywhere, dumbass.”

“Oh.” Okuyasu chuckled. “That's right.”

“Anyway,” Yuya sneered, looking back toward the office, “You let Nijimura use his on me a couple of weeks ago... Didn't do shit about it then!”

Rohan sighed, rubbing his temples as he slouched back into his office chair. Just once, he wished he'd be able to come to work and not have the added responsibility of babysitting. “Fine... Then this one time, you can use your power. On him.”

“Oi, wait a second!”

From the other room came a cacophony of thumps and crashes, heavy footsteps racing around the store. Rohan got up from his chair and moved to his window, slowly closing the blinds and his involvement in the situation.

“Yer dead, Fungami!”

“Really now? 'Cause I feel great!”

At that point Rohan tuned out all the sounds of their wrestling, the cries for a truce as metal studs apparently got the two of them stuck to each other, the cutthroat insults hurled about one another's favorite bands. It was just another day at Dark Pink...

Until it wasn't.

Rohan couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but as he returned to his desk and got back to his stack of bills he slowly became aware that there was now a complete and total absence of any fight sounds. Or... any other sounds, for that matter. That didn't seem right. He hesitated, stood up straight, frowned towards the closed window and tried to listen carefully.

Nope, nothing. All that could be heard was the distant music playing from their sound system. It was Yuya's pick today.

Then, suddenly, the two employees came shuffling in through his door. They were wide-eyed and stiff, looking like two poorly-behaved siblings with a very bad secret. “Christ,” Rohan muttered. “What did you two do?”

Yuya shook his head. “Nothing, man. It's just...” He pointed over his shoulder. “Otoishi's here.”

“What?”

“Akira Otoishi. Like, the musician? He's here. He's in the store!”

“Well.” Rohan took in a deep breath. “We should probably stop playing his music, then.”

“Right... Right.”

Still, neither of the two younger men moved an inch. Rohan sighed. Yuya, he knew, was just stunned to see someone who he admired – someone who was actually someone – deigning to enter Dark Pink. Rohan couldn't blame him for that; it was a rarity at best. But Okuyasu, on the other hand, had a different reason to look uncomfortable.

Everyone in the local scene knew there had been some bad blood between Akira and Keicho Nijimura, but the details were all hearsay. The two had been close friends for a long time and then one day, without warning, Keicho wanted nothing to do with the other. He'd always had a famous temper, sure, but after their falling out he'd become more and more reclusive, and neither of the brothers ever spoke a word about it. So naturally, the younger brother, inclined to befriend anything with a pulse, would have a hard time knowing what to do when Akira was standing ten feet away from him.

Rohan pushed between the two dolts and made his way out to greet their customer/hometown hero/cause for alarm.

“Hey,” Rohan said casually, nodding to Akira as he approached. Akira glanced up and smiled.

“Hey! You're– You must be Rohan Kishibe, right?” Rohan nodded, impressed and pleased that he'd been recognized. “Right on. This place is legendary. Glad I finally got a chance to check it out.”

“Hm. Thanks. My apologies for the music.” He jerked his head toward the turntable, where Yuya was now struggling to pick out a new record that would be appropriately cool. He and Okuyasu seemed to be arguing about it in hushed voices. Rohan cleared his throat. “...I imagine you must get sick of hearing your own songs after a while.”

“No, no, I like it! You have good taste,” Akira said with a laugh.

Rohan folded his arms. “Well, it's a pretty good album,” he noted. “We all had the chance to see you play at The Alley a few weekends ago. Honestly, it was the best show I've seen in a while.”

“You flatter me, Kishibe-san.” Akira grinned, pushed back his purple locks. A thought appeared to dawn on him then and he snapped his fingers. “The Ally! That's right – you're the one who's been drawing gig posters for them, yeah?”

“Ah.” Rohan couldn't help but smirk. “Yes, that's me.”

“Hell yeah. Mei was showing me some of your sketches that night. You're a talented guy, damn. You think you'd ever want to do an album cover?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I...” Rohan hesitated, caught off guard. “I've never been asked. But, ah... yes, of course, that is certainly something I'd... be interested in.” He glanced up over Akira's shoulder, where the guys still hadn't changed the music, but now Yuya was giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up and metal-horns and Okuyasu was triumphantly air-guitaring.

“Awesome.” Akira shifted his weight, tossed his hair again and studied Rohan for a moment. “Yeah, we should definitely get together some time and throw ideas around for some art. That'd be killer. I'm actually working on some new stuff right now, and if you were into the show the other night I bet you're gonna like the direction we're taking. You could come by my place, listen to the demos for the record so far, get the inspiration flowing?”

Yuya mouthed a jealous “what?!” and Okuyasu tipped his head to the side, blinking curiously at them. Rohan took a step to his left to put them out of his line of sight.

“I'd be honored. Like I said, I was impressed by the show and I'm... not easily impressed.” Akira chuckled a bit at that, inflating Rohan's ego even more, so he went on: “I appreciated you putting a new spin on the classics. There's not a lot of bands out there utilizing the old school stuff like that. Especially not in... electro sort of genres.”

Akira nodded slowly. “Well, thanks. I'll say it again, you have good taste, Kishibe. Here, tell you what–” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out one of presumably many small sheets of paper advertising his latest album. In another pocket he located a marker. “Here's my number... give me a call whenever, we'll find a time to hang out.”

Rohan watched silently as he scribbled out his phone number, and then took the slip of paper with a nod. “Thank you,” Rohan said quietly, “I... look forward to talking more about it.”

Akira flashed him another wide smile. “Me too. It was nice meeting you. We'll talk soon!” He looked over his shoulder to offer a wave to the other two, who reciprocated awkwardly. Then, pulling his coat around himself, he made his exit through the doorway and up the stairs. Rohan stared after him.

In an instant, Yuya and Okuyasu were upon him.

“Dude. Dude. What was that?” Yuya exclaimed. “Tell me you didn't just get hit on by the coolest musician this side of the planet. What the fuck.”

“What?” Rohan snapped, rounding on him. “Hit on–? God, why does everything always have to be sexual to you?”

“Because everything's sexual,” Yuya retorted, throwing his hands up. “I mean come on. He wants you to come over and listen to his music. He wants to see your art.” Yuya fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, waggled his hips. “Tell me that's not a line made to reel in a groupie.”

“I don't know who should be more offended by that, him or me.”

“Oh, whatever. But you are going to take him up on that offer. And if you're so sure it's not a line, then bring me too! I wanna hear his new record!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay fine, then go alone and bang him or whatever! I'm sure Nijimura can give you a few pointers.” Okuyasu punched him hard in the arm, hard enough to send him stumbling.

“Dude, shut up,” Okuyasu grumbled, casting a glare that kept Yuya at bay. He slowly turned back to Rohan. “Uh. But... y'know. If he was... flirtin' with ya or whatever. It's not like that would be the worst thing.”

“Why is everyone so interested in my romantic life lately,” groaned Rohan, shoving his way between the two of them again to make for the safety of his office.

“ 'Cause we actually like you... fer some reason... and we want ya to be happy again!”

Yuya nodded in agreement. “Yeah, ever since shit hit the fan with Reimi, you've been miserable. Like, more miserable than normal. And it's exhausting. You need to just rebound and get over her, dude.”

“How many times do I have to say it?” Rohan stopped and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “I am over Reimi.”

The other two exchanged skeptical glances.

“I know it's hard t' get back into dating n' all, trust me–”

“Re-bound! Re-bound! Re-bound!” chanted Yuya. Okuyasu simply spoke over him.

(Rohan was very seriously reconsidering his own “no powers in the store” rule.)

“– but maybe if ya give it a shot, you'll find someone real special! What harm is there in tryin'?”

“I don't want to try!” He whirled around, shutting them both up. “I don't want to date anyone. And I don't want to sleep with anyone, either,” he added, seeing Yuya open his mouth to argue.

Okuyasu tucked his hands into his pockets. “Well... that's okay, I guess... 'Long as that's what you really want, and it's not just 'cause you're scared.”

Yuya gave Okuyasu an approving slap on the back. “Yeah, like, at the end of the day it's up to you, Kishibe. We just don't wanna see you miss out.” He shrugged. “l mean... Reimi seems to have taken it all in stride. Right?” He looked back at Okuyasu, who nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeh. I just saw her a couple days ago and–”

“You did?” Rohan took a step forward.

“Um, yeah. She came by the store lookin' for you, actually. But uh, we got talkin' about stuff–”

“–Nijimura broke the poor girl's heart.”

“No, I didn't.” He narrowed his eyes. “I told her I was... interested in someone and she seemed real happy for me, actually.”

Rohan let out a breath. “Huh. I see. So she wasn't too broken up about it?”

“ 'Course not!” Okuyasu furrowed his brow. “Pffft – Like out of all the guys she's gone out with, I'm the one she's hung up on? C'mon, me?” The idea was apparently so absurd that it made him laugh. “We went out one time and I blew it... Nah, definitely didn't break any hearts.”

“Wait. S-so...” Rohan was blindsided – Okuyasu had really buried the lede here. “She's been... going out with other people? Multiple... people?”

Okuyasu and Yuya met eyes again.

“Ummm...”

“Yeah, Kishibe,” Yuya said, the teasing tone finally gone from his voice. “It's... yeah. That's kind of why we've been trying to get you back out there and all.”

A heavy silence settled over the store. Akira's record had long since ended.

“Well.” Rohan cleared his throat, straightened his tie.

“If it helps, she's got shit taste in men,” Yuya offered. “You're cooler than anyone else I've seen her out with.” He jerked a thumb at Okuyasu. “Present company included.”

“You ain't wrong,” Okuyasu said with a shrug. “And you're definitely cooler than that Toyohiro guy. Don't exactly get what she sees in him, but whatever, I guess. She seems happy.” Yuya nodded in fervent agreement.

Rohan nodded, too. “Hm, mhm.” It was all he could do not to scream.

“All we're sayin' is... Maybe a distraction would be good for you,” Yuya offered. “Maybe a purple-haired distraction who slams on guitar, I dunno. Anything's gonna be better than you being a cranky old loner.”

“Yes... perhaps you're right after all. I will certainly keep all of this in mind. Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I really do need to get back to those invoices.”

Rohan turned on his heel and walked back to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him and exhaling slowly through his nose. He had to pat himself on the back for how cool and nonchalant he had played it back there. The guys probably had no idea how close he was to boiling over.

Rohan gently leaned up against the door. He took a few deep breaths. A muscle twitched in his forehead. Then –

“What... fucking... Toyohiro guy?!”

He let out a strangled scream and tore the nearest box of documents off a shelf and onto the floor. He glared hard at the resulting mess for several long moments, his chest heaving.

Once he'd eventually regained his normal breathing, he smoothed back his hair, shook out his shoulders, and then promptly returned to the sales floor. He was met with wide-eyed stares from his two employees who stood rooted to the same spot where he'd left them, except now they appeared to be leaning hard into one another for support.

Rohan cleared his throat. “So,” he said, as if there hadn't been a single beat in the conversation. “What do you think? Two days before I give Otoishi a call, right?”

[knight-queen]

Lunatic Parade Subaru Sakamaki– (Chapter 3)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Place: Glimmer Street, Main street/グリンマーストリート 表通り

Subaru: Haah...I wonder what that old-uncle’s planning to assign us this time.

Yui: According to what I feel... I bet we won’t be facing any ordinary things this time too…

(Hm…?)

Vampire Woman E: Haah...it’s no good…

Yui: (That grandmom seems to be troubled by something….? Why’s that?)

→ Selection

声をかける / Call her out (+Correct)

そのまま通り過ぎる/ Pass it as it is

Yui: Excuse me, grandmo一

Subaru: Oi.

Yui: Subaru kun…

Subaru: Don’t tell me that ye’re gonna call her out?

Yui: Eh...Yes, I am…

Subaru: Are you awaring of this situation? We have to go somewhere important.

Yui: I know that but...we can’t just leave someone alone who’s been troubled…

Subaru: What you mean by troubled…

……

...Haah, got it. Do as you wish.

...Kindness is existing inside you as always.

Yui: Umm...excuse me grandmom, is there anything wrong?

Vampire Woman E: Oh...a girl. You see, I have dropped off a precious handkerchief somewhere…

Yui: So that’s what it was. I’m going to lay you a hand searching for that!

Subaru: Bah dang….that’s the only option…

*After a moment*

Yui: (It’s rather difficult to search for a handkerchief without having any clue…)

Subaru: Oi, I couldn’t find it here.

Yui: Likewise...I couldn’t find it either.

(Was that flew away somewhere by wind…? 一Ah!)

The thing stuck with that bench over there, it’s the handkerchief yeah!?

Vampire Woman: Oh goodness! You’re right!

Subaru: Finally found that huh? Well then, let’s get that an一

*A bird has grabbed that*

Yui: Ah…!

(That bird has….!)

Subaru: Wai- hold on!

*Flying sound*

Yui: (The bird picked the handkerchief in it’s mouth and flew away…)

Subaru: Tch...on the roof huh…

Yui: ...I’m gonna bring a ladder right away…!

Subaru: Aah, hold it! For you using a ladder will probably be so risky that I can’t even look at that.

...I’ll go and get that so wait ‘re.

I won’t need any kinda ladder for just this...I can get that in a sec’ if I just fly.

...Here I go…

*Flies*

Yui: ...Ah, Subaru kun…

*Comes back after a moment*

Subaru: ...Here, it should be fine now.

Yui: (Ah, the thing he’s holding is…!)

Vampire Woman E: Oh my, yes! This one! Huge thanks to both of you.

This thing was really important for me...so you were a great help. Really thank you very much.

(She is being so happy. It was good to her after all!)

Yui: Ah...sorry Subaru kun for making you stop by there...but thank you.

Subaru: ...Haah. Every time I see the depth of yer’ kindness, it keeps surprising me…

...But, you know...if you prefer that then I won’t stop you.

Yui: Yes…?

(He’d usually say that doing these is just absurd but...he’s somehow different I guess)

Subaru: Anyways, we’re done with this business. Let’s move on.

Place: Rubean Canal / ルビーン運河

Gondolier A: 一Time to departure!

Yui: (...Today’s work is to find a mineral from an abandoned mine inside of the volcano.)

(...Sounds so difficult…)

Subaru: Oi, what was up with that guy from earlier?

Yui: Eh? The guy from earlier?

Subaru: When I said “let’s go”, then you were freaked out. That one.

Yui: Oh…

(The time when he said that today we’ll have to go to the volcano…)

(I thought Subaru kun is gonna deny but, he simply nodded by saying “Let’s go”...)

Ah...yeah. I want you to listen without getting angry…

I really thought that you’re gonna have an objection in going to the volcano.

However, I was surprised when you smoothly agreed with going there…

Subaru: ...Hmph.

...Even though I can’t understand other people, every single one has a precious thing.

Atleast, I understood that right.

Yui: ……?

Subaru: Such as, the head-mask that the old-uncle asked to get and,

The handkerchief that the grandma was searching.

Yui: Subaru kun…

Subaru: Above these...if I look from the perspectives of persons, then to me you are also…

So, they may have looked at those things considering like this way.

Yui: ...kh…*flushed*

(It’s unfair to say these things out of nowhere…)

(It’s embarrassing but...I feel like my love for Subaru has increased more than before.)

Place: Lake / 湖

Gondolier A: This place is Tilkes!

Yui: (Phew...looks like we’ve finally arrived.)

(Rest is to go to the volcano right ahead…)

Subaru: Finally we’ve come here huh…

Yui: I guessed you’d prefer flying instead of riding on Gondola.

Subaru: Yeah...I had thought about flying. But, I’ll have to use some stamina from here on, yeah?

Yui: (Fufu...looks like he’s having positive feedback in the missions that Mr. antique-artist has assigned.)

*After a while*

Yui: Certainly we can see the volcano if we pass by this lake-side, right?

Subaru: That old-uncle said so.

Yui: Well then if we take this direct approac一

*Crowd noises*

Yui: ……

Subaru: ……

Yui: (I’ve been thinking about it for a while though, this lake-shore is full of couples I seeee….)

(Since it looks like a tourism spot, I think we’ve no other choices…)

S- so many couples right…

Subaru: Tch...dang noisy…

Yui: (But, if we don’t cross through this side-road of couples then we can’t go to the volcano….)

Subaru: Oi, Yui.

*Hugs her*

Yui: Wah…!

(He is hugging me…!?)

Subaru: It won't be unnatural if we just walk together like this.

Yui: Maybe you got a point but still...it’s embarrassing…!

Subaru: Looking to the other side, we’re also....two of us will also be considered like that way. *blushing*

Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.

Yui: M- mhm…

Place: Front of Mine Entrance / 鉱山跡地入口前

Yui: L- looks like that’s the entrance.

Stallkeeper near Volcano: 一Please wait up there.

Subaru: Yeah?

Stallkeeper near Volcano: Are you going to enter there?

Subaru: If we do, then what?

Stallkeeper near Volcano: Oh, it’s nothing...if so, then you should take this.

Yui: This is...marshmallow…?

But... Why do we need this for getting inside this volcano…?

Stallkeeper near Volcano: To be honest...there’s a certain story behind this land-area.

Yui: Story…

Monologue 一

一一Thus, we’ve ended up hearing a sorrowful story about the Smaragd Volcano.

Long time ago...the resources of this volcano were so abundant that the mineral-mining was just being continued. 

One day...a man who was working there fell in love with Reis who lives in the underground lake. 

It was rather unusual story as Reis and Vampire to become lovers, however in order to live with Reis, 

That man has deceived a vampire woman and gave her body to his beloved.

It’s because...unless Reis isn’t possessed by some person, she cannot leave that area where she was living. 

But she was binded with the fate of getting erased away if she leaves that place.

Despite not for being used to that, those two were spending happy days together.

The only one thing that Reis appreciated in her life as a Vampire was...marshmallow.

...However, that happiness didn’t continued to last long.

One day, the main owner of the body that Reis had possessed over got awakened and 一一

Ended up killing the man.

Reis who was shivering in anger had killed the woman whose body she had taken over and relied on at that time…

As a result, she disappeared…

That man is wandering around the volcano to find his beloved Reis even now...

Reis’s comrades had also cherished her choices, so they also made themselves to like marshmallows...

End of Monologue

Yui: ……

(There’s such a painful story behind this volcano…)

Subaru: Hmph, overall you just mean that we’ll have to give this sweet stuff to Reis if she shows up, yeah?

It’s just a myth. How absurd....

*Subaru walks away*

Yui: Ah, wait up, Subaru kun…!

(As he said, maybe it’s just a myth but…)

Umm...sorry, but is it okay to take this marshmallow just for advancement?

Stallkeeper near Volcano: Ofcourse. I just pray that you two don’t have to face Reis.

Yui: Thank you very much.

(Aight, let’s catch up with Subaru kun then…!)

Place: 鉱山跡地 / Mining area

Yui: (Where did Subaru kun head out…?)

(I didn’t predict that he’d go so far away…)

Subaru: 一 I knew.

*Screen slightly shakes*

Yui: Wah, Subaru kun!?

I got... freaked out as you suddenly showed up…

Subaru: In anycase, it’s for you. Before coming here, you got that marshmallow, right?

I have been waiting ‘re when I thought so.

Yui: I- I see…

Subaru: Did you really believe that story to be true?

It was just a childful-trick to make you buy that for sure.

Yui: Maybe you’re right...but just in case...okay?

Subaru: ...Haah.

Well, it’s fine. Let’s start searching for the mineral.

Yui: He told us to get the mineral which has a blue-shining on it.

Subaru: Yeah, he said we can find that...if we search the bare rocks of this place.

Looks like there’s a... mining-tool just in the perfect place.

*Takes that tool*

Subaru: I’m gonna cut off this wall using this, so you better look for that mineral.

Yui: Yes, I’ll do my best...!

*After a while*

Subaru: Ah...haah...ha…

Yui: (Uh...We’ve been searching quite a lot but we’re not finding that…)

(I don’t think that we’ll be able to find that at all…)

(And also…)

*Wind blows*

Yui: (Perhaps it’s for the story of Reis we’d heard before...I’m ending up feeling a bit creepy.)

???: Hehe...ehehehe…

Yui: ...kh, who was she…?

*Wind blows more deeply*

Yui: (No one’s here…)

(Was it an illusion of my mind….? But I can sure say there’s someone here…)

Subaru: Oi, what’s wrong?

Yui: Ah...Subaru kun...I have been feeling creepy for some reason…

Subaru: ...Well, this place is bad.

Yui: Yes…

Subaru: ...We shall have a rest for once. You have something to eat, no?

Yui: Ah...yeah! On the way to come here, I bought some sandwiches.

...Here, this is your part!

Subaru: Oh...thank you.

*After a moment*

Yui: Fu...it was yummy.

(This place is creepy indeed but it’s a bit fun since it looks like a picnic…)

...I should have brought some desserts with me.

Subaru: Yeah? But we do have dessert.

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: You got some at the entrance...the marshmallows.

Yui: Are you gonna eat that!? We should save it for the time if we meet Reis…

Subaru: Bah, but I told ya’ that it’s just a myth, didn’t I?

Yui: I wonder…

(Well but...it’s better to eat it instead of wasting it away by throwing…)

Wait a little…

*Checks out for the marshmallows*

Yui: Huh…

Subaru: Oi, what now?

Yui: I couldn’t see any marshmallow…

Subaru: Hmm. I think you’ve dropped it somewhere on your way?

Yui: ………

(Now...could it be Reis has taken that way…)

(If she did then it was good to buy that marshmallow following the advice of that stall keeper….)

Subaru: ...What’s wrong? Did you want to eat marshmallow so bad?

Yui: Ah...nope. It’s not that…

(Let’s not talk about it to Subaru kun….)

(Since I can’t confirm that Reis has taken that away…)

(Even if that story is true, I better not drag myself into it.)

Subaru: …? What a weirdo. Let’s go back to our work right away.

*Time skip*

Subaru: ...kh, Haahh…!

Yui: Subaru kun, you see anything…?

Subaru: Not at all...instead I’ve found some kind of extraordinary thing but,

It’s not the thing that Old-Uncle asked for…

Look, this one.

Yui: Waah, it’s such a beautiful gem.

(If I look at this at an angle then the color changes to another! Incredible…!)

(But the thing we’re aiming for is not this one…)

Subaru: ………

Yui: (He’s just keeping watching this stone he’s holding…)

Fufu...if you like it then what about taking it home as a memory?

Since it’s an unusual gem!

Subaru: O- Oh...right.

Yui: And...what should we do next…

(At this rate, even if we search it aimlessly, it will basically be pointless…)

???: Hehe...ehehehe…

Yui: ...kh…!

(This voice...is the same from before…!)

(I knew that the truth’s Reis exist….? What should we do since we don’t have marshmallows with us…)

Subaru: ...Someone’s voice.

Yui: You noticed that too...?

Subaru: Yeah. It was coming from our back right?

Yui: Yes…let’s go to the direction where the voice came from.

*After a moment*

Subaru: ...was that coming from ‘re…?

Recalling that, I had read a fairy-tale of the Lower World when I was a child…

It was written that by digging the place where a pet-dog barked, one can find treasures.

You know about that?

Yui: Eh? Y- yes...It was a common story…

Subaru: There’s a chance that….it’s gonna work for this thing too…!

...Let’s try it out by digging here.

*Digs*

...GGh….!

Yui: Ah! Look Subaru kun!! It’s this stone, right…!?

Subaru: Certainly...it’s blue exactly like that Old-Uncle said…

Yui: Waah! That’s a great relief that we find it, right!

Subaru: Haah...Jeez, finally huh…

But...it was worthwhile to work damn hard searching for it…

Yui: Right.

(Hm…? Then Reis’s voice from earlier…? Could it be that she told us the clue as thanks for giving her the marshmallow…)

Subaru: We’ve managed to get the gem safely so let’s get out.

Yui: Sure一

*Bird’s buzzing sound*

Subaru: Aah…?

Yui: This…. Sound…?

*Eagle rudely whistling sound*

Yui: Eh...Eagle…!?

Subaru: HAAAH!? Where did this shit come from!? ….No way….it’s coming this way…!

*Whistling*

Subaru: ...kh! Watch out…!!

*Screen shakes*

Yui: Are you okay!?

(Now...the eagle is after the gem that Subaru kun’s holding…?)

Subaru: Oi, oi! Could it be that it's aiming at this stone?

No way we'll handle it over after getting it with so much effort!

Let’s hurry and escape!

*After*

*Eagle whistling*

Subaru: Chhe...it’s still chasing after us!

Yui: Ah, Subaru kun! There’s a minecart over there…!

Subaru: Only option is to use that for escape huh…!

*Timeskip + Gets on minecart*

Subaru: Oi, take care of this gem.

Yui: (Let’s put it inside my pocket in such a way it won’t fall…)

Subaru: kh...mo...ve!!

*Sound*

Subaru: Aight, it started to move!

Is that giant-eagle still chasing?

*Eagle whistling*

Yui: Yes...As expected, she’s wanting to get this gem…

Subaru: Tch...fuck that old-uncle! I didn’t hear him say for such a bird to exist here…!

*Eagle whistling*

Yui: Ah…! Subaru kun, it’s no good…!

Subaru: Damn it all…! Oi, you bend downward. Don’t raise yer’ face up no matter what.

Yui: Ye- yes…

Subaru: Tch...behave yer’self! Play outta somewhere else!

*Subaru picks up a tool*

Yui: Subaru kun! Don’t overdo it that much…!

Subaru: Yeah, I know…! ….Uaaah…!?

*Punch*

Yui: Ehh…!?

(The giant-eagle has….grasped Subaru kun…!?)

Subaru: ...ghh...Oi, lemme go…!!

*Eagle whistles*

Subaru: ...gh!!

Yui: Ah…!!

Subaru: Yuiii…!!

Yui: No way...Subaru kun!?

(He is going in the ravine-bottom…!! I gotta go there to help him...but how can I…)

*Screen vibrates*

Yui: Wh- what was that now…!? Rumble in the ground…?

*Screen shakes*

Yui: Eh…!

(This minecart is going to tilt...at this rate I’m gonna fall…!?)

...kh...Kyaaa…!?

*BG turns black*

Yui: (Wh-what should I do...it’s means, before getting back my heart, I am going to…)

(......)

Subaru: 一Yui!

Yui: (Eh…?)

(My body is...floating…?)

Subaru...kun…?

It’s fine now, hold me tight!

Yui: Yes…!

Place: 洞窟 / Cave

Yui: Haah...haah…

Somehow...we’re saved…?

Subaru: Aah...looks so.

Yui: (But...which place is this? As what I’m seeing, it’s a cave though…)

...kh…

(What…!? It hurts to...breath…!)

Subaru: Tch...looks like... we rather fall right into the underground…

We gotta leave...before we get choked…!

Place: 地底湖 / Underground Lake

Subaru: Haah...Oi, you...okay?

Yui: Somehow yes…!

(There’s even a lake in the underground…)

Subaru: Oi, are you having that gem with you?

Yui: Yeah, no worries. It’s safe.

Subaru: Good...let’s get outta here then.

That’s gonna be a trouble if we get dragged into something again.

From here on…

...Don’t you ever leave my side again. We don’t know what’s gonna come up next.

Yui: Yes…!

*Screen shakes*

Subaru: ...gh, hold it. Something’s...coming…

Yui: (This sound...don’t tell me it’s the same ground-rumble again…!?)

*Water sound*

Subaru: ...Water…!?

Yui: Ah...perhaps the lake got overflowed because of that rumble in the ground…

Subaru: Fuck...one after another…!

Yui: Kyaaah!?

(I am gonna be swept away…!?)

Subaru: Oi, hold me!!

*Subaru gets closer*

Subaru: Don’t let go of this hand no matter what!

*BG black + after a moment*

Yui: (I was...saved…?)

*Fades to CG*

Yui: *coughs*.... *coughs*....

Subaru: Oi...you okay?

Yui: Ah...yes. I swallowed up water a little but, I am not having even a single injury.

I’m sure I’m okay because you protected me.

Subaru: Ha- HAAAH!? What are you saying!?

Yui: Eh...what you asked, I just said that you’ve prote一

Subaru: AAH, shut up! Don’t say anymore than this!

Damn you…

Yui: (Ah...he has turned his face the other way…)

But, really thanks to you that I was able to return back here safely.

Thank you for supporting me.

Subaru: ...kh…

…...hmph.

Yui: ...We had to deal with many things but…

It’s good that we’ve come back safely.

Subaru: It was no good...we had to face terrible things.

I’ll regret it if I deal with such things again.

Yui: Fufu...right.

*CG Fades *

Subaru: For starters...let’s get back to that old-uncle at once.

Because it’s gonna piss me off he complains that we’re late of somethin’.

...kh…

Yui: Ah, Subaru kun, are you alright…!?

Subaru: My feet got staggered a bit. Never mind.

You better don’t worry about others as you're also terribly exhausted.

Yui: Ye- yeah…

(I’m worried even if he says it…)

*After a while + BG black*

Yui: (nnh…)

Place: ホテル•モーントシュタイン  客室 / Hotel • Mortstein,Guest room

Yui: (Huh...this place...where is it...it’s not the antique artist’s…? Hotel…?)

(I’ve remembered that I went to the antique art dealer with Subaru kun but…)

Subaru: Nngh...Oh shit...my body hurts…

Ah...huh, why are we in the hotel!?

Yui: (That’s good... he’s woken up too.)

Tell me, why are we right back in the hotel?

Subaru: Who knows...all I remembered is that we’ve gone to that Old-Uncle’s place…

Yui: (We’re on the same track...huh. ...Hm?)

(On the bedside table, there’s a note…)

*Yui gets that*

Subaru: What’s that? A note? Gimme that for a sec’.

『一I’ve received my required mineral safely. 』

『You’ve to be prepared for the last task on tomorrow so have a good rest today.』

『...Furthermore, I’ll throw you out in the street next time, if you fall down on my storefront.』

...He said.

Yui: Ah...that’s right...we collapsed in his store.

Shit...whom does he think we had collapsed for!?

Damn him…! That fukin’ talkative old bastard…!

Haah...I’m gonna sleep. You should sleep too. Tomorrow is the last task after all.

Yui: Yes, I will.

(Today was a really difficult day for us however...I have enjoyed it.)

一 The END of Chapter O 3

[rjhpandapaws]

Something Familiar

Chapter 2: Lessons in Good Faith Tw: PTSD and mentions of torture and death

Living with Daniel was a lesson in many things. A lesson in patience, trust, and it was a constant trial in checking is biases. Daniel was one of the few good humans, and Silas’s fear still ran unchecked. He knew it would take time to work through all of his baggage, and that Daniel was willing to wait. The thing was that Silas wanted to trust him, but couldn’t because there was still too much in the way. Daniel had even given him space after they sealed the contract. Silas bore the mark of it on the inside of his left wrist. A small circle of red, yellow, and blue lining. Daniel had the same on his left wrist as well. It marked them as equals, but it still felt like imprisonment to Silas. He was grateful for the week alone though. It gave him time to get used to his human shape again. He spent a lot of his time on the upstairs balcony watching the world go by with out him. Being outside like this was something he hadn’t been able to do for years. He would have preferred to change shape and wander, maybe even fly; but he was still on the mend and under strict orders not to shift unless it was an emergency. Daniel wasn’t here to stop him. He could have run away, and yet he stayed. Like a good Familiar.

When Daniel came back Silas’s private moments gained a witness, and his nightmares gained an exit. Daniel was always gentle when he woke Silas. He made sure he was genuinely awake and then let him come back to the real world on his own. He would offer to listen and Silas would always turn him down. There were nights that were worse. Nights when he didn’t dream, but remembered. The sleep he got was always more restful on those nights, but waking up always hurt worse. He woke up buried under the weight of all the things he should have done; could have done if he was a better person. On these mornings the only thing he wanted was space to think. So he would quietly make himself coffee and head up to the balcony. Daniel always came up eventually, and he usually brought breakfast with him. He would set the tray down on the small glass table and take a moment to observe Silas. He never said was he was looking for, but Silas assumed he found it because he would go back inside after a while. As a healer it wasn’t in Daniel’s nature to leave things alone, but he seemed to understand that Silas needed time to himself every once in a while. It was something Silas was grateful for. Someday he would let Daniel in, he deserved to know what he had gotten stuck with.

He woke suddenly from a dead sleep and sighed. He could still see Connor clearly in his mind, the fear in his eyes as they were separated almost felt accusing now. He should have stayed. He should have done a lot of things, but he was a coward and ran away instead. Silas got up with a practiced silence and started on his coffee. The house was still dark, but he had the kitchen layout memorized. By the time his coffee was ready he could use the early rays of dawn to make it up to the balcony. Today was going to be long and painful. He leaned against the front railing of the balcony to watch the sunrise and let his thoughts run loose with him. If he got it out of his system now, then maybe he could be something close to composed by the time Daniel came up to check on him. So for now, he would let himself remember. They were good things at first. His childhood, play fighting with his brothers. Learning the importance of the ancient magic they carried with them. The rush of freedom that came from knowing a thought was all it took to become any creature he wanted. The sacred bind that came with choosing a patron mage. There was a complexity that came with choosing to be a Familiar. It was a bond based on sharing strength and it lasted a lifetime. Different from a contract.

He remembered the day everything changed. The day the world as he understood it would come to an end. It was a normal day, he and his brothers woke up and did their chores, but never made it back to the house. Traps had been set in the night and each of them fell victim to one. He remembered waking up in the dark and in pain, surrounded by everyone from his village. All of them had been taken. They were given a week to recover and adjust to their new life before the Conditioning started. Each of them was branded with a unique number. Something that could be used to find them in the event that one of them escaped. The ones that the Conditioning worked on disappeared. Bought by mages that believed them to be Creature Familiars. Those who didn’t take to the Conditioning were tortured until they broke. It went on like this until their anger finally outweighed their fear. Their revolt; if it could really even be called that; was a failure in Silas’s opinion. So many of them had died. Freedom for the few of them that had made it out was paid for in the blood of those who hadn’t. Silas had taken his new freedom and run to the nearest mage. Signed it away in exchange for survival. Even if Daniel saw them as equals; Silas had still done the exact thing they had fought so hard to be freed from. He would have almost rather having died. Almost.

He could feel Daniel’s eyes on him and had the feeling he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this one without talking. He knew Daniel wouldn’t ask outright, but would linger until Silas said something. It Gave the illusion that he had other options; but if he wanted to be alone he would have to say something. “There were three of us, you know, that made it out.” He began and did what he could to keep the emotion out of his voice, “Me and then two of my brothers. I lost them in our mad dash to get out, and now I don’t know if they’re even alive.” He tried to blink away his tears, but they only rolled down his cheeks instead, “After everything we’d been through; I couldn’t be bothered to stay. I ran away like a fucking coward and sold myself out in a desperate bid to survive. Some fucking brother I am.” Daniel was quiet for a long while. This was the most Silas had ever ‘willingly’ said to him. “In a few weeks you’ll be healed enough to handle mildly strenuous activity.” He said eventually, “We could go looking for them if you would like.” Cold heavy dread settled in the pit of Silas’s stomach, “Why?” He snapped, “So you can add them to your collection? So you can have the complete set of the last shapeshifters known to man?”

“No.” Daniel replied sharply, “So you can have some damn closure and a place to stay once the contract is up. I actually want you to be safe, believe it or not.” Silas flinched. He knew Daniel wasn’t the same as the other humans he had dealt with, but he was still afraid. He set down his mug of long forgotten coffee and breathed out a defeated sigh. It was too early in the morning for a fight. On top of that, Daniel hadn’t done anything to deserve this. The contract was a means of protecting him. He understood that. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and yet I still fear completely offering you my trust.” He said after the silence had long since grown uncomfortable, “You may very well be the only human with my best interests at heart and I keep pushing you away.” He took a deep breath and tuned to face Daniel, “I’ll think about it, but that is asking a lot of faith from me; and for now, I think I would rather be alone.” Daniel looked away from him and his shoulders slumped, “I understand.” His voice was almost level, but hurt lingered just beneath the surface, “I’ll be in the house if you need me.” Silas watched him leave and wondered if he should have been gentler. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault he’d gone through all that, but he had nothing else to do with all his anger. Burying it clearly hadn’t helped. 

He picked through the food Daniel had brought up for him and tried to gather himself a little more. Daniel didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of his anger. He wasn’t responsible for what was done to him. He was the only person that was trying to help. The least Silas could do was give him the results he wanted. Even if they were fake. Time to see if he could even manage to be a convincing liar. The sooner he seemed well, the sooner he could get out of here. He didn’t know where he would go, yet, but he was sure he would find his place eventually. On top of that Daniel wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. He could go back to whatever it was he had been doing before Silas had come crashing into his life. It was late in the day when Silas had gathered enough of himself back together to handle being around another person. He didn’t say anything to Daniel when he came back; because he looked busy, and because he simply didn’t feel like it. He got to work on the dishes so he would have less to do later in the evening. “I’m sorry Silas.” Daniel broke the silence after a while, “For this morning. It was insensitive and out of line.”

The laugh that hitched and bubbled it’s way out of his chest was bitter and humorless. It surprised him, this was the first time he had laughed in years. “Was it?” He asked coolly, “Are you rescinding your offer to help me find my only remaining relatives then?” “Well, no.” Daniel scrambled, “I just; I wanted you to know that I meant no offense by it.” He explained and Silas relaxed some, “I feel like I’ve messed something up, and I want to know how I can fix it. I hate seeing you so upset.” “It’s a matter of learning to trust you.” He said and looked down at his hands, “My whole life up until now has been spent in fear of humans. I just have to keep in mind that you haven’t posed a danger to me yet. Sorry for being so... defensive, I guess would be the word.” “You’re alright.” He replied kindly, “These things take time. Even at that, you have a lot of trauma to work through and-” “Daniel stop.” Silas interrupted, “I need someone to listen to me, not psychoanalyze me. Believe me, I am well aware of all my trauma and the power imbalance of our dynamic. I really don’t need the reminder.” “Right.” He agreed with a sharp nod, “It can be difficult to turn my doctor off sometimes.”

“I understand.” Silas replied as he leaned against the counter to face Daniel, “It’s the only way people will acknowledge you, so it has become your primary mode of existing.” He watched with mild amusement as Daniel’s jaw dropped, “You’re more than that to me, you know. You’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve had actually.” “First of all, ow.” He said with a laugh and put his hand over his heart, “Secondly, what happened to not psychoanalyzing each other? I’m glad you think of me as a friend though.” Silas smiled, and it felt strange after not having done so for so long, “I figured that you’ve done it to me enough times that I deserved a turn.” “Fair enough.” Daniel replied as he began to put his things away. “How many weeks?” Silas asked once his curiosity got the better of him, “Until we can leave?” He was quiet for a long while before he replied, “Six, if you mind your limitations; eight to twelve if you keep ignoring them like this.” His smile fell away, “That was a lot more than I was hoping for.” Daniel just shrugged, “You’ve been stubborn. Agitating your old injuries and coming back from your little excursions with new ones. You need to rest.”

“Fine.” He said as he made his way to the bookshelf to go through the travelers’ guides, “I’ll be a better patient from here on out.” He settled on his bed with the books he had grabbed, “Six weeks should be enough time to find a place to start.” “Of course it will.” Daniel replied with a gentle smile Silas felt like he hadn’t been meant to see. It was finally time to venture out into the world. He just hoped they found Connor and Richard before anyone else did. If he lost his brothers he wouldn’t have anyone left. There was no way he could survive that.

[my-happy-little-bean]

The Bookkeeper - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Wuthering Heights 

pairings: logan/patton (logicality), roman/virgil (prinxiety) words: 3216 chapter warnings: mild swearing, mild existentialism chapter summary: once upon a time...

[read on ao3]  [masterlist]

—

“I know a lot of kids who’ve endured Civil wars and famines These kids are wise  Aware  And they’re searching for a little beauty in the world Because life without beauty is unbearable”

                                   – Jordan Tannahill, Concord Floral

 ~*~

Imagine for a moment, the process of a songwriter. One picks a key, uses the notes within the key, and tinkers with the piece until it sounds pleasing, familiar; until it sounds like anything. 

All art is, to some extent then, structured and formulaic. So if that is the case, is there any ‘magic’ in art’s rigid form? In practice, art disrupts the very foundation of its being; creating something out of nothing. Hence, is there any true value—under the nihilistic impression that life bears no meaning—in pursuing art if it, at its core, has no purpose? Where could one derive significance from the way notes scatter on the staff, when it holds no initial meanin–

Logan Fray cursed as he slammed his pen into the counter. He gripped onto the surface of the paper he was writing on, crumpled it, and squeezed it out of the spiral binding of his notebook. Without looking up, he hurled it towards the garbage can to his left. He heard the soft sound of it hitting the metal rim and sighed, flicking his wrist without much thought.

A small spiral of shimmering navy dust shot out of his index finger and caught the balled-up paper before it could fall. He glanced over to his left, realization clicking in his head. Logan sighed and, annoyed, steadily moved his finger across his line of sigh. The crumpled piece of paper followed suit until it hovered over the garbage can. 

Logan narrowed his eyes at his magic. The blue coated the creased edges of the balled-up paper, as if contemplating the survival of this draft and its feeble grasp on the edge of the tin-can cliff. 

“Oh isn’t this quite the show!” 

The loud, triumphant voice behind him jolted Logan forward. He lost concentration on his spell and the paper dropped helplessly into the bin. 

Logan pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Christ, Roman…” 

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t want to disturb the almighty Wizard Fray and the extraordinary use of his powers! Fray and Far Fables is in for a treat today, fellas!” 

Logan rolled his eyes, spinning around in his chair and watching as the small, fairy-like form of Roman floated in front of shelves. Roman’s red magic formed some sort of feather duster.

“Anyway, don’t mind me! I don’t mean to be a heckler — just doing some spring cleaning!” He exaggerated a flick of the magical duster against a book.

“You don’t have to dust the spines of books, Roman,” Logan drawled. “It is illogical. With your magical wards, nothing here collects dust. And even if it did, your size and your...general aura deems you an ineffective housekeeper.” 

Roman gasped, twirling around in the air to float over to Logan’s face. He hovered in front of his nose with his hands on his hips. 

“I will pretend you did not just hurt my feelings just then!” Roman smiled smugly as he dusted Logan’s nose. Powder puffs of his red magic fogged Logan’s vision. “I will instead pretend you said ‘thank you, Roman, oh dashing bookkeeper!’”

“A happier reality, I’m sure,” Logan huffed, rubbing his nose and holding back a sneeze. Roman floated back to the shelves.

“Besides, someone has to tend to the nooks,” Roman hummed pointedly, landing on the edge of the shelves and leaning against one of the book spines. “Each one is a ghost town at this point.” 

“They were always ghost towns,” Logan gritted out, annoyance growing. “There’s nothing in there.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Roman stuck out his tongue. “ ‘Art has no meaning in a meaningless life’ or whatever, which means there’s nothing in art and there’s nothing in books, yada yada yada – you keep telling yourself that, Specs.” 

“I am not the only one saying that. If you read Virgil Aries’ work on nihilism and its implications on art as a sort of void—” 

“Yawn, Logan,” Roman groaned, “uber yawn. I’m not going to read some sad philosopher’s existential crisis.” 

“Virgil Aries was not sad, he was brilliant–” 

“I’m sure he was.”

Logan sighed, standing up and sweeping the books off the counter and into his arms. He walked around the counter and across the store, placing the books back on the other shelves. Roman flew closely behind him.

“It is nice to see you using your magic again, even in pitiful displays." Roman nonchalantly tilted his head up. "Almost thought you forgot how to.”  

“It was just an impulse, Roman,” Logan muttered, letting Roman dust the floor of the shelves before sliding the books into their proper place. “I was deep in thought and wasn't thinking I will not make a habit out of it.” 

“Ugh, when will you understand that I want you to make a habit out of it– I want to have cool magic duels with you!” 

“More the reason why we don’t need these ‘pitiful’ displays of magic. First of all, I’m not even supposed to be using my magic while we’re open. What if someone walked in? What would you say to them then, hm?”

“ ‘Hey, do you want to see the coolest thing in your flimsy, mortal life?’ ”  

Logan rolled his eyes. “ ‘Cool’ is not how I would describe it.” 

“Ouch!” Roman turned his red feather duster into a small, sparkly sword. He dramatically stabbed it into his chest, bits of his red magic exploding in a small puff around him. The sword dissipated upon contact. “What is up with your...your spiciness today?” 

Logan slid the last book into the shelf and leaned against it.

“I’m just stuck on this speech again .”

Roman deflated. “Oh, here we go…”

“I just don’t understand what my problem is. I have all my research in place, I know what I want to say about art, I know what I want to do, but nothing I write has any substance! None of it makes sense. I can’t answer the fundamental question of my own damn argument.” 

“Which is…?” 

“ Why, ” Logan hissed, running both hands through his hair. “Why do people pursue such meaningless tactics of escapism if– if they’re escaping from nothing. That, in turn, makes art nothing. Right?” 

“I don't know, Lo. Maybe that actually means it’s not entirely meaningless then,” Roman hummed idly. 

Logan glowered at Roman, whose face was plastered with a shit-eating grin.

“I just need to get this speech done,” Logan stiltedly said, evening his breath. “If I get any of it done by the end of the month, I can be reassured that I won’t make a complete fool of myself at the university conference.”

“It’s a convention of sad, young nihilists with student debt. Everyone there is a fool.” 

Before Logan could respond, the bells above the front door echoed across the shop. Roman and Logan exchanged frantic looks. Shit. Logan didn’t even realize what time it was.

“Book nook. Now,” he hissed. Luckily, Roman already beat him to it. Roman pressed his hand onto the spine of a nearby book on the shelf. His red magic spread across the surface until his hand could go through the spine. Then, with a small yelp, Roman tumbled into the book and disappeared from Logan’s view. 

“Logan! Hi!” a peppy voice rang out at the same time. Logan spun around on his heel to face the front door and forced a smile. 

“Salutations, Patton,” Logan replied, awkwardly leaning against the shelves. He snuck cautious glances to the book Roman had hid himself in, making sure he was completely out of sight.

“I’m here for a book!” Patton chirped, tipping his hat at Logan. He looked up at the shelves around Logan with a smile. “And I have a feeling you have just the one for me!”

“You come here every week, Patton. You do not have to repeat the same thing, I know what you are here for.” Logan, despite everything that was occurring, found himself smiling warmly at Patton. “Please roam around as you see fit.” 

“I shall!” Patton said, moving past Logan and starting on the opposite end of the shelves Logan was leaning against. Logan’s eyes widened. 

“Um, did you end up finishing the book you bought last week? The one by Elizabeth Gilbert?” Logan blurted out as he moved closer to Patton, his back covering the book he knew Roman was hiding in. Patton looked up at him and smiled.

“Oh! Yes, The Signature of All Things, right? I really enjoyed it! I can’t believe you made me enjoy historical fiction — I’d usually fall asleep a few pages in, but Alma’s life is just so interesting!”

Logan nodded tensely as Patton moved closer to him. He pressed his back against the shelves as if that could further hide Roman. “Truly.”

“And I actually brought you a painting!”

“Oh?”  

“Yeah!” Patton fished through his messenger bag, his hat nearly slipping as his head tilted down to find it. Logan could hear a small thump! muffled behind his back. Logan winced. He hadn’t even considered the conditions of the book nook. While he knew none of them could ever hurt anyone—especially Roman—he definitely knew some were not ideal. 

He tried to quietly grab the book Roman had escaped in, slowly turning around to take it off the shelves while Patton wasn’t looking. 

“Here it is!” Patton exclaimed loudly, animatedly pulling out a rolled piece of paper. Logan jumped at the abrupt action, ducking to the side to avoid getting hit by Patton’s arm. “The book took me longer to read– I didn’t even think I’d finish it within a week– so sorry that the painting is a bit crude!” 

“That is quite alright, Patton,” Logan said, adjusting his tie. “It is a gift that you do not have to keep giving yet...you do. So I appreciate the painting regardless.”

“Of course! Take a look and tell me how you like it!” 

Logan took the paper out of Patton’s hand and unrolled it. 

Sprawled across sketchbook paper was splashes of watercolour making up an array of botanical illustrations. The flowers and plants overlapped each other on the old-yellowed background in a way that didn’t seem too suffocated; each plant had space to breathe. Thin, cursive descriptions sprawled across their stems. It almost felt like a map of some sorts, navigating through each individual aspect of a garden.

“It’s a bit reminiscent of my collagist days,” Patton said with a small giggle. “But I like it! I actually drew a lot of inspiration from the cool sketches of all the plants scattered throughout the book. 

“Evidently,” Logan hummed, smiling at the painting. He looked up at Patton. “It is very nice, Patton. You capture the book’s essence very well here.” 

“Oh, well I know how you feel about the art stuff– but thank you for humouring me, Lo!” Patton giggled. Logan’s smile faltered, but he fought to keep it upright. 

Logan kept observing the painting, idly walking away from the shelf, as if mesmerized by Patton’s work. 

“Ooh, this book looks interesting!” 

Patton’s voice suddenly snapped Logan out of his daze. Roman. 

Logan turned around to see Patton standing in front of the book Roman was in. Instinctually, he shot a small burst of magic at the display table behind Patton, sending books tumbling to the floor with a loud thud!

“Oh!” Patton whirled around at the noise. He gave Logan a sheepish grin. “I must’ve bumped into the table or something! Sorry ‘bout that!” 

“No worries,” Logan said with a tight smile. Patton crouched down to start picking up the books as Logan tucked the painting under his arm, quickly moving to the book Roman was hiding in. He pulled the book out slightly. 

“Roman,” he hissed as quietly as he could. “Get out of there.” 

Almost immediately, Roman hopped out of the book, all his clothes dripping wet. 

“An unfortunate choice,” Roman muttered, shivering. Logan shook his head. 

“You can clean yourself upstairs, just go now– ” 

“There you go!” Patton announced, standing back up in a swift motion that knocked his hat off his head.

Logan watched as Roman, clearly panicked, jumped into the back cover of the book and flattened himself onto its surface. Logan, startled, pulled the book off the shelf and pressed it to his chest, attempting to cover the new picture of Roman on the back cover. 

“Everything’s in its place!” Patton continued, brushing off his hands. His stare flitted over to the book in Logan’s arms. “Oh! That’s the book I was looking at! Do you mind– ?” 

“N-No!” Logan blurted out. Patton frowned at him, and Logan squeezed his eyes shut, clearing his throat. 

“I...I mean, no problem. That would be...no problem at all.” 

“Cool!” 

Patton took the book from Logan, who kept his eyes glued to the frantic 2D-Roman next to the book synopsis. 

“Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë,” Patton read aloud. “Huh! Sounds interesting.” 

“Y-Yes!” Logan slowly reached to grab the book back. “How about I get a bag for y–” 

“Let’s see what this is about!” 

Logan paled as Patton turned the book around, almost in bullet-time. Logan caught a glimpse of Roman’s eyes widening and, horrified, watched as Roman slid his flattened form into the spine of the book, becoming squished within its confines.  

“ ‘The wild, passionate story of intense and almost demonic love between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff’,” Patton continued to read. “ ‘Brontë captures the evocative, conflicted interplay of nature and culture in her’– wow, ‘masterpiece of English literature’!” 

Patton playfully tossed the book in the air, catching it by its spine. “Sounds like I found a winner!” 

Logan yelped, snatching the book back from Patton, who tilted his head to the side. Logan broke into a sheepish smile. 

“Er, let me check you out!” 

Patton winked. “If you insist!” 

Logan flushed red, hurrying to the cash register. He crouched down behind the counter, lowering the book out of sight and disguising his attempts of freeing Roman as him grabbing a bag for Patton. 

Logan knocked firmly on the spine, sending Roman disappearing through it and into the book. He then opened the book and Roman emerged with a gasp, as if he was swimming in the pages.

“Good Fantasy- Gucci–”

“Shh!” 

“What was that?” Patton asked from above. Logan’s eyes widened as he stuffed Roman in his pocket, despite muffled protests. 

Logan shot back up with a small paper bag and a forced grin. 

“Shhhh-ure is a great day to buy a book!” An unnatural laugh escaped his lips. “That...that is what I said, heh.” 

“Ah, it is!” Patton slid a few bills across the counter and brought the bag to his chest in exchange. “I’m excited for the new book! Sounds good for a rainy day.” 

Logan tensely nodded, feeling his pocket slowly dampen. “Mhm.” 

Patton’s stare floated over to Logan’s open notebook, his smile faltering. 

“Still stuck on your speech, it seems?”

Logan blinked, following Patton’s gaze and sighing. “It appears so, hm?” 

Patton nodded slowly. 

“I know you explained it to me once, but I still don’t really understand your plan for the speech. Wasn’t the prompt supposed to be ‘finding the meaning of art’?” Patton’s stare flitted towards the shelves behind the counter with all of Logan’s various philosophy and aesthetic texts. “Yet you’re tackling what seems to be the opposite and...and I admittedly don’t get it. Just ‘cause it’s for a bunch of art students doesn’t mean it has to be all deep and dreary, heh.” 

Logan shrugged helplessly.

“I just need something new to say,” he mumbled. “You can’t understand art’s meaning without understanding the implied lack thereof.”

“So you’re stuck in the lack thereof?” 

Logan looked up at Patton and frowned at his slightly-amused smile. 

“It’s a lot more complex than that.” 

“Uh-huh.” Patton’s smile felt filled with pity, or perhaps sympathy. “Maybe the solution– just a suggestion– is to go outside? Touch the grass? Find meaning in the world rather than bury your nose in a book?” 

“Ironic,” Logan scoffed, though regretted it instantly. Patton, however, just laughed. 

“Touché.” Patton shrugged. As he was about to leave, he turned his head over his shoulder. “And hey, I’m sorry that I keep pestering you about the speech, heh. It’s just…” 

Patton lowered his gaze, shifting on his heels. In an uncharacteristically hushed tone, he said, “I care about you, Lo. More than you think. I would hate to see you unravel yourself in trying to find the answers and...well, I fear that you already have.” 

“That’s impossible,” Logan mumbled, though averted his gaze from Patton. “If I were to unravel, it would be because the answers ended up in me, in which case I would need to access them." Logan tugged his collar awkwardly. "But...but they are not.” 

Patton rose an eyebrow. "Maybe we both need to get out there then.” 

“ ‘There’? As in...the world?” 

Patton grinned, holding his new book close to his chest. “And all the other ones too.” 

The door closed swiftly, bells chiming in Logan’s ears. Logan heaved a deep sigh of relief as Roman floated out of his pocket, arms-crossed, unamused. 

“We have to be more careful,” Logan muttered. “Who knows what would happen if he figured out about you, about the book nooks, about me… ” 

“Come on, Lo. It’s Patton , we’re talking about.”

“Still.” Logan grimaced at the thought. “He could see everything in the wrong way and I would prefer to keep some things normal around here.”

Roman just nodded, shaking off like a dog. Small drops of water splashed against Logan’s cheek. 

“Soooo….that Patton sure is a character, hm?” Roman eventually asked, looking at Logan coyly. Logan felt his cheeks heat up. 

“That is what you want to focus on?”

“I just think he has a lot to teach you. And it seems as though your heart is telling you the same.” Roman winked. “Maybe it’s time for you to listen.” 

Before Logan could rebuttal, Roman flew up the stairs to clean himself off. Logan shook his head, walking over to the door to close up early. On his way, he nearly slid on something on the floor. He frowned, picking the item in question up. 

Patton’s hat. He must’ve forgotten about it.

Logan stared at the hat for a few seconds. He held it up and then, without really thinking, held it to his chest. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then opened them to see a blurry view of the world outside his shop doors. 

‘What does it all mean?’ 

Logan sighed, shaking his head as he flipped the door sign to ‘closed’. He stalked back to the counter, sitting back in his chair and tossing the hat to the side. With a flick of his wrist, a small stream of magic shot out of his index finger and landed on a book behind him, lifting it off the shelves. 

He continued to levitate books without turning back, and Logan began to write once more.

—

next chapter > 

[idjitlili]

Fili x reader

Imagine making a flower crown and making Fili wear it. Knife hiding . Douche legolas , he thinks he has a big dick. Fili , kili, thorin survive the battle of the five armies.

A little cringe, all my imagines are ngl, this is my longest fic.

Word count:2923

You were apart of the company, in which you had just arrived at Beorns house. He seems to like you because you weren’t a dwarf nor orc. You had asked him if you could pick some of his daisies from his garden, he allowed you too,telling you help yourself.

You were had became very close to the princes, and Bilbo. You were very sarcastic,like Bilbo ,Bilbo would defend you in any situation with his sassy comments. Although,you had grew to like Fili very much, you knew you didn’t have an chance with him, as one day he would be king. You were a human girl, you weren’t from middle earth you had nothing to offer the prince.

That didn’t stop you from liking him, no matter how much you wanted to drop your feelings.Did I mention that you called Bilbo , Dildo Gaggins, well you did. You had only explained to Fili what it meant , he thought it was hilarious. You both didn’t dare to tell Kili in case he told sweet Bilbo. Kili couldn’t keep anything a secret.

But right now you sat in the grass , in Beorns garden,making a flower crown out of large daisies. You had made it like a daisies chain just with giant daisies ,as you weren’t sure how to make an actual flower crown. The blades of green grass tickled your bare calf’s, up to your swimming trunks. Don’t ask why you just thought swimming trunks were better than actual shorts. The company were surprised with your clothing choices, not being like anything they have ever seen anyone wearing.

Your hands worked restlessly on the crown, you knew who you wanted to gift it to. It didn’t take long, as you really wanted to get back inside before the bees started chasing you , or Thorin lectured you on safety. That he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe if he didn’t know your location. He had a thing with keeping you safe, you knew there wasn’t many Darrowdams left but they were plenty of female men left. You just didn’t understand it , to be quite honest.

It was early in the morning you hadn’t slept that night , you were restless that night. you told Bilbo that if anyone asked you were just getting some fresh air , but you weren’t sure if he had listened he was barely a wake at that point. It was getting brighter by the minute. You were full aware that everyone was awake now, from the noise coming from the house.

You were about to stand up and head inside,but a soft thud came from beside you. You jumped, and turned your head to see Fili smiling at you, you frowned. “You made me jump.” You grumbled. “Hey I’m sorry , I just came to see if you was alright and hadn’t runaway.” He chuckled.

You told feel the a gush of wind it you harshly , as the sun hit you warming you slightly. “ and where would I run away to? It’s not like it can get home.” You were slightly grumpy from having no sleep, yet Fili was quite joyful. “I thought you might’ve found an elven prince.” He smirked. “Damn how did you know?” You gasped , you had finished the flower crown , lifting it up in your palms eyeing it as did Fili.

“Did you get any sleep last night ,y/n?” He questioned eyeing your h/c hair that the sun brightened.“...yes.” You picked at the strands of grass avoiding his gaze. “So you been out here all night?”

“No only for a couple of hours , it was too yuck in there. Bombur needs to lay of the cheese.” You gagged at the thought of last night he chuckled at your response. “I agree.”

You turned to look up at Fili , with the flower crown in hand you eyed his golden Maine, damn he doesn’t have a crown but he’s a prince. “I made this for you, will you wearing it,Fili?” You questioned nervously he smirked looking at it and you blushed face. “..you made me a flower crown..?” He admired your affections he did like you well more that you knew.

You frowned in disappointment going to stand, “fine I’ll give it to kili instead of you don’t wa-“ “NO I want it.” He interrupted you, you giggled in delight of his outburst, you kneeled I front of him. Damn you wish it was to blow his horn. Sorry. You placed the crown upon his head gently.

He smiled at you , “a crown for a prince.” Fili looked so cute with it upon his locks, he smirked at you words.”thank you y/n, I love it.” He pulled you up to your feet , and embraced you into a hug with you happily returned. “Come in we are leaving soon.” He spoke pulling away and dragging you in by the hand.

Once you arrived inside you dropped his hand , and walked over to Bilbo, the company smirked at Fili. Bilbo was eating some sorta food.”Well hello master Gaggins , I hope you didn’t have a sausage, I would hate for you to choke.” You smirked down at the hobbit. He gasped now figuring out why you had called him that. He was about to say something before Fili and kili walked over to the two of you.

“Oh Fili I love your flower crown, it’s compliments your hair.” Kili gushed,Fili grumbled at his brother.

“Oi, you are jealous that I didn’t make you one, kili. “ you smiled at the brunette prince.

“Yes I am, why did he get one?” Fili was intrigued for your answer, kili frowned that he didn’t get one. Typical really if you think about it.

“He was the first one to come talk to me,now I must make sure all my stuff is packed for our journey.” You spoke leaving them , Fili frowned lightly.

And soon you were off to Mirkwood, only to be attacked by spiders then saved by Dildo, then attacked again then saved by elves. You stood next to Fili and Kili as they searched you for weapons, a elf came towards you to search you. Thorin almost bit his throat out with his eyes as the blond elf searched you.

“Uh mister elf?” The elf was about to search to u before looking you in the eyes, nodding. “Are you a prince by an chance?” You smirked at Fili as he gasped remembering your conversation. “Yes, I am legolas son of Thranduil.” Your mouth gap open “it is nice to meet you, wow I have met three princes now. Totally awesome dude.” You smirked up to the princethat just nodded at you , continuing to search you receiving glares from Thorin ,Fili and kili.

You hoped he stayed away from your vagina, no one knew you kept a hidden knife there. You gasped when his hands reached your sides, you wore only a t shirt, and you were ticklish. He continued to in his hands down your sides, making you cry in laughter. Damn dude, he stopped immediately. “Sorry it tickles .” As the elf gave you a half smile, this made Fili bubble with anger that this elf was allowed to touch you. “why does a women travel with pigs?” He questioned you , you smirked . “Because I have no where else.”

You replied quickly, looking at your feet.”Why?” Damn this vampire bro didn’t quit. “Magic causes some shit , and poof I am in this strange world.”the prince was confused by this, but just nodded, he was going to ask his father about it.

He walked towards Fili , eyeing his flower crown, scoffing. “Oi princess I made that.” You spat at the elven prince, Kili laughed at your term, and Fili felt butterflies in this stomach. “You court this dwarf?” He laughs at you. You scoff angrily “hey blondie,first he’s a prince like you, plus I rather have a dwarf than a twig elven princess, If your dick is as thin as you. GOD. Is it even there.”

This caused all the dwarves at laugh at you , legolas face lit up in anger, he leaned down to your ear and whispered “I would love to prove you wrong, but I am afraid I would split you into two.” You shrugged in disgust ,” thanks for the offer but I’ll stick to the dwarf that doesn’t have to use a wooden dick.” You clutched onto Fili , who happily pulled you close to him. Before legolas ordered for you all tohave your hands binded.

Legolas has brought you all to the cells into Mirkwood. He had told his father there was a women along the pact of dwarves and that you should be stuck in with them too rot aswell.

You turned to Fili in the cell, “damn I’m glad I didn’t runaway with that ass.” Fili laughed , “me too.” He spoke sitting on the stone fall, gesturing for to sit too. “I can’t.” He looked at you confused. “Why not.” You didn’t amswer you just reached up the leg of your swimming trunks pulling a knife out carefully. He gasped at your action, you flung the case of the knife on the floor ,that protected your vagina from being spilt opened.

Luckily you had clearly the knife and case in boiling hot water , so you wouldn’t get an infection. “That w-was in your v-v..” you giggled at him sitting next to him, you yelp at the harsh contact with the floor.”yeah I know, it hurt.” You passed him the blade , he inspected it, he could only think hot damn.

“How did it even fit?” He questioned this blade was 9 inches long , two inches wide.

“That’s what she said. I don’t even know how it did.” He goes back to hand it back you shake your head “I’m not skilled with any sort of weapon, you keep it.” You smiled at him, he wrapped his arm around you pulling you close to him , embracing you on the cold floor. “Thank you and thank you for back there that meant a lot to me y/n.”

“Like I was going accept that pricks offer, he said he was gonna spilt me in half with his thick cock.” You laughed into filis chest, he burst out laughing with you stroking your hair. Before he could say anything more Bilbo had came to your rescue, you and Fili stood up swiftly and he grabbed your knife with him.

You clutched filis hand as Bilbo lead you into the cellar , and ushered you all to get into the barrels. Kili looked at the knife questioningly as did the rest of the company, “y/n” he spoke quickly. They all looked at you there wasn’t anywhere you could hide that knife. You shrugged “I hid it my vagina.” Bilbo gasp, yet Dwalin looked at You proud “good on you lassie!”

Bilbo was the next to speak “ yes this is a lovely conversation and all but we do not have time right now.” He spoke urgently. After that everyone had gotten into a barrel. Soon enough you were all dumped into the water, soaked , and being chased by elves. You spot legolas straight away “oh hey princess, MAYBE you should’ve searched my vagina next time for knifes.” You shouted towards him , pointing to the knife Fili held , in which he nodded at legolas, legolas gasped.

***

After the barrel ride, you had reached an bank to be threatened by Bard the bow man. He agreed to take you all to lake town, but smuggling you. It was suggested that you were to pretend to be his girlfriend because you couldn’t fit fully into a barrel. Fili wasn’t happy at all of course. Then all the dwarves and dildo had to climb up through the toilet , in which Fili asked you to keep his flower crown safe.

You stood in bards living room waiting for the dwarves , you were freezing from only wearing a t shirt and swimming trunks, bard had let you borrow his coat to hid your weird clothing. You had already given that back. You snapped out of your thoughts when the groans of dwarves entered your ear drums. You looked up to see Bilbo soaked , he was given a blanket by only of bards daughters. “Damn Bilbo you really are a dildo now , you are all lubed up all you gotta do is go up a vagina.” You smirked down at him he frowned at you muttering “you are worse than the dwarves” before walking off.

You looked up to spot Fili who was already walking towards you, once he reached you he gave you a large grin. You grabbed the crown from your pocket , placing it upon his head. He pressed a kiss to your cheek. You smile at him, lovingly. You felt a tug at your hand , you look down to see Bards youngest daughter Tilda smiling up at you. “Miss y/n?” She asks , “yes tilda.” You bend down a little to her level holding her hand, Fili watching in awe.

“ did you make that?” She questions pointing to the crown on filis head, you nod. “We don’t get many flowers here.” She spoke sadly before whispering into your ear so Fili not anyone else could hear “do you like that dwarf miss?” She giggled , as did you. “Yes I do.” She giggled again excitingly. “If yo u come back here one day would you bring me a crown?” She questioned again, smiling hopefully, you looked up Fili who already gently pulled the crown from his head leaning down to the child placing it upon her head. “You can have this,princess.” She giggled pulling to both into a hug ,”thank youuu.” She spoke happily.

You stood from the floor, “I’ll make you a new one in erebor. You are true prince.” Smiled just embracing him this time.he tighten the hug pulling you closer from your waist. “What did she ask you?” He asked smirking into your shoulder,”now that’s a secret prince.” You spoke pulling away to see Bilbo who was smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

***

After the battle of the five armies , Thorin had offered for you stay in erebor , with him , Fili and kili. Since you had no home. Bilbo was staying in erebor for a week, you were given a room with clothes , and gowns that fit you. You were actually able to bathe, today you wore a green tunic and some pants, you had been sat in some greenery in erebor.

You began crafting another flower crown for Fili, once you had completed it , you had brushed the dirt from you. You started heading towards filis chambers gently grasping the crown in your hands. Once you had reached his door , you gently tapped your knuckles against the wood knocking a couple of times.

Soon the door was opened by a surprisingly dressed Fili, he looked like he had just woken up and rushed ready. Good for him. “What can I help you with y/n?” He yawned. You reached from behind your back to reveal the crown. “I told you. I would.” He smiled he allowed to place it upon his head. “thank you.” He spoke leaning towards you to press a kiss to your cheek. He blushed. After that you smiled and began to walk away, but his hand grasped your wrist. “Wait...” you turned to look at him.

“I-ive been meaning to tell you that...uh.” His face was beet red, he couldn’t hold your gaze,you held onto his hands. “ you can say anything to me Fili, unless it’s mean,because I will cry.” You smiled at the dwarf.”no ,no , it’s not mean. I just really like you not as a friend” your face blushed in shock , a prince liked you. “Damn bro I like you too.” You jumped to embrace him.

“Really?” He asked with a sparkle in his eye,”why do you think I made you them crowns and said I wanted a dwarven cock and then latched myself to you?” You smirked at Fili, lust filled eyes, he laughs lightly.

“Can I court you y/n l/n?” He asked cupping your cheek, you nodded in response. He brought his mouth to your ear, and whispered “may I kiss you?” You nodded nervously , you both leaned in , wrapping your arms around his neck and he pressed his soft lips to yours pecking them before pulling away. “Damn thanks for being my first kiss dude.”

“You are very welcome , now come in so I can braid your hair.” He led you in with his arm around your waist, shutting the door.

Bonus:

“Are you going to braid my pubes aswell?” You questioned the blond prince smirking.

“Only if you braid mine.”

“ mine are too short anyways.”

Extra bonus:

“Kili I call Bilbo , dildo Gaggins. Because a dildo is a fake dick that people use to masterbate with. And because he’s so short he is a whole dildo. And Gaggins is because he goes to thorin and gags.”

“Why does he gag around thorin?”

“Because he’s sucking him off.”

“O h.”

[chikabika]

I wanna talk about Whole Cake Island too!

So, I’m reading Whole Cake Island right now. And I have THOUGHTS about Sanji and Luffy’s “”””fight””””. And it’s probably nothing anyone hasn’t said before but I’m gonna write it out anyway.

(TL;DR Sanji and Luffy fight and it hurts because they both go for the throat. Also Nami has been through this shit I am surprised she’s putting up with Sanji trying to leave in the slightest.)

So first, yeah, I’m screaming into a pillow because this shit is rough. Let’s get those personal emotions out of the way first. 

Sanji’s whole thing is that he cares and serves, right? His love language is acts of service and that’s primarily shown through feeding people. When we meet the Vinsmokes (I shall not be referring to them as his family) we see pretty quickly that they are the antithesis to everything Sanji is. 

The men are literally said to lack the ability to sympathize or empathize. Not only do we see this is the case, but Reiju says so herself:

They do not value cooking nor food. Judge tells Sanji to never cook again, Niji wastes food.

And, of course, the brothers have no qualms about hitting women. The whole chivalry/won’t hit a women thing is a huge can of worms I don’t feel like unpacking in part because I don’t feel like I could talk about it without discussing women’s power levels and roles in One Piece. And I’ve already digressed too much.

So yeah, the Vinsmokes are the opposite of Sanji and hold none of his values. In fact, they may be why he holds some of his values, because they are as far from the Vinsmoke’s values as possible.

Okay so the two chapters in particular when Luffy and Nami find and confront Sanji! 

Pretty immediately we see that 1. Sanji was not expecting them, 2. He’s distressed that they’re here, and 3. It complicates things for him.

Like, that is not a face of someone happy to see his friends who have come to save him. That is an “oh fuck” face. (And as a sidenote, yeah, it’s a whole lot harder to sacrifice yourself when you’re confronted with the people you’re leaving behind, HUH, SANJI????)

Luffy’s all happy to see him, feels like they’ve accomplished their goal, doesn’t question that Sanji would want to come back. And he’s got things to do! Like save Wano and beat up Kaido! Chop chop Sanji let’s go on adventures! Plus, I would think that Luffy would also have the expectation of his crew that they understand that no one gets to leave if they’re doing it to sacrifice themselves. He’s already shown he’s gonna come get you and Sanji knows this. Sanji’s first arc with them after Baratie was going to save Nami from Arlong and her self-sacrificial bullshit! Luffy’s modus operandi is saying “Oh, you thought you were in a lose-lose situation and the only solution was to sacrifice your happiness and well being? Fuck that! You’re my nakama, let me save you!”

Both Luffy and Nami aren’t questioning Sanji’s wanting to come with them. They’re here, it’s time to go!

And so then we see the surface level reasons why Sanji would say “No, I can’t go with you.” And we also see that he knows Judge is watching him.

I don't think Nami's buying it either. She's done this. She knows what it's like to be trapped by circumstances, to have your loved ones held hostage. And she did this shit too! She fuckin laid it down, lied to her nakama about it all being a farce in her efforts to keep them out of her dangerous situation! Maybe the words sting, but I think this face of hers is even more from her thinking about how they all know eachother so much more, and know how Luffy wouldn't leave one of them behind. So Sanji must be under some real duress right now. Like, I feel like she could extrapolate a lot from what he's saying because she knows that's not who he is. And because she's tried the same shit. And, I wonder if she’s hurting for him because she knows what it’s like.

Every chance she gets, she reiterates that there was nothing between them, that she doesn’t care about them, that she tricked them, and even uses her supposed killing of Usopp as support of her betraying them. She is desperately trying to get them off this island. Arlong is well covered, we all know what’s up.

And, the parallels are pretty clear for Sanji. He’s got family being held hostage (Zeff, and the Strawhats too), and he couldn’t leave anyway because he’s got explosion bracelets on. Plus he’s got his own self-sacrificial streak (which I could guess comes from being raised in a household where you’re told you don’t have any value and everything you do is wrong-the fact that Sanji still cried at Judge’s rejection of him right before his escape speaks to how as a child he still wanted Judge’s approval and love as a father).

So, he comes out swinging with the thing that we previously established would be the shittiest thing to say, that Luffy rejected the possibility of him saying.

And then he starts on this buckwild speech that is so fucking hammed up I almost questioned if Sanji meant for them to understand the opposite of his words, and was just putting on a show for the Vinsmokes.

Nami only says he’s going too far when Sanji starts insulting Luffy’s dream, which the whole crew believes in and supports. 

Also, as a side note, it doesn’t really make sense to me that Nami would just take on the role of “you’re going too far, you can’t believe what you’re saying!” Maybe Chopper would do that cuz he’s gullible and shit. BUT NAMI FREAKIN DID THE SAME SHIT. I would almost expect a “...” speechbubble from her and later her saying something like “He really tried his best to make that look convincing, didn’t he? He’s not very good at it.”

Nami’s savvy!

But anyway, yeah, Sanji tries to go for the throat to push thme away saying shit about Luffy not being able to become the Pirate King. My first reaction to this whole thing was: 

“WOW HE'S REALLY DOING IT, HUH? HE'S LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH TO SAY THE MOST HURTFUL SHIT HE CAN TO HIS LOVED ONES SO THEY'LL STAY AWAY SO HE CAN SACRIFICE HIMSELF TO STOP ANYONE FROM GETTING HURT”

Usopp has tried to leave too, but his situation was different. His reasons were stated clearly and he didn’t try to pretend that all the shit they’ve gone through together and the bonds they’ve formed were fake. Nami, Robin, Sanji? They try to do the “ah, I never loved you” bullshit. 

But Sanji’s is the first time that from the get-go, the audience knows before the confrontation everything that’s going on for the crewmember trying to fake betrayal. With Nami and Robin, we didn’t learn their backstories until after they tried to push people away. With Sanji not only did we get it beforehand, but when Luffy and Nami show up, we are shown the three pieces of information that Sanji thinks about and that motivate him to push his crewmates away:

His hands (his treasures) are bound and threatened.

His nakama are threatened.

Zeff is threatened.

He’s backed into a freakin corner! And he know’s Luffy’s track record on crew members trying to leave! So he goes for the throat and when that doesn’t work (or for the whole performance he’s putting on for the Vinsmokes) he attacks Luffy.

Luffy says he won’t fight Sanji, and I wonder if this is because of Water 7 and Usopp. That fight was so fucking painful, I wonder if Luffy vowed to never fight someone like that again?

Clearly he isn’t getting through to Sanji, even though, to him, Sanji should know what the deal is by now.

So he goes for the throat himself! Which is honestly just heartwrenching on Oda’s part and pretty unfair on Luffy’s part. Though, when has Luffy ever been fair lol. His whole crew agrees his selfishness levels are above emperor!

This page pretty much sums it up:

Also, throughout this entire encounter we get glimpses of Sanji thinking about the crew and meeting Luffy, which is cool to see his internal world somewhat.When Luffy first shows up. I mean. Look at the pain on his face.

This is not a “we have a difference in ideals and are fighting over it and I’m thinking about how we met because I regret that it’s come to this.” fight. It’s not even a fight. It’s Sanji desperately saying “Please leave before you die because of me!”

Actually, maybe it is kind of a fight of ideals because Sanji is fighting to say “leave me behind I’m not worth it” and Luffy’s saying “yes you are.”

For all the extremely clear things going on emotionally for people in this scene, I’m surprised Oda just left Nami’s responses at this. But, since he did, it means I get to interpret them how I please!

This could simply be read as her feeling betrayed and shit. But again, they all know the history of the crew. This could just as easily be her saying “You went too far.” or “I can’t believe you wouldn’t believe in Luffy enough to come back with us.”

I said she could probably guess at him feeling like he’s stuck, backed into a corner. And if I remember correctly she is aware that the Strawhat’s lives are threatened if Sanji doesn’t comply with Big Mom’s wishes. But she probably wouldn’t guess at the bracelets being bombs and doesn’t know (but might guess) at the Baratie being threatened too. Nami knows all about people who claim “family” as an excuse to hurt and bind you.

But basically, I would think for her, it would be a situation of her feeling like at this point Sanji should know Luffy well enough to know he won’t give up, and to trust Luffy enough to take Sanji home. So why the fuck would he try to play this game when they’ve all seen that it doesn’t work? Why say the most hurtful things he can think of? And why not just come home now?

I don’t think she’s angry at him for the betrayal he’s trying to act out, I think she’s angry at him for the betrayal he’s committing for not trusting the crew to get him out of there.

(Again, haven’t read past this part but I could absolutely see later Nami saying “do you think we acted hurt enough for them to buy it?”)

And then of course, the last four pages of the chapter where Luffy clearly calls bullshit on Sanji, saying Sanji felt the pain of his kicks more than Luffy did. And Sanji is just starting to fucking lose it. (panels from right to left)

Like, Luffy. Chill. It hurts so much! But no, he can’t just call Sanji out. He’s gotta go for the kill, present Sanji with an unacceptable situation he knows he can’t refuse. Or at least hopes he can’t refuse. Because for Luffy, Sanji leaving is an unacceptable situation.

Not only will he not eat (which, god, using that against Sanji is almost too much, fuck, Luffy), but he won’t even fucking move so get your ass back here soon before I starve, Sanji.

To use the two very deeply entrenched facts about these characters this way is sure something, huh?

Sanji will feed anyone who is hungry. He cannot stand hunger, almost.

Luffy eats all the damn time and lots and never refuses food. For him to say “i’m going on a hunger strike, I’m not eating until it’s from you” IS JUST SO MUCH.

Also side note god what cruel people to laugh at Sanji’s pain as Niji and Yonji are doing.

Sanji thought he could get away with thinking he’s expendable (just like Judge has said in every time period we’ve seen him on the page) Luffy flat out rejects that. Sanji is essential, an required part of the crew and a required part of Luffy’s dream. Just like the crew have adopted his dream as a part of all of their own ultimate goals, so Luffy is saying that they are all part of his ultimate goal. He has adopted them into him becoming the Pirate King.

And goddamn if this arc isn’t about found family. The blood of the covenant is thicker, don’t cha know.