#i sound like a broken record but i WILL finish this one soon i actually really like it
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Hnhgfhngg Alex Manes time travel/body swap??? Fuck yeah, gimme pls???
hiiiiii beloved!! i was hoping someone would ask me about this one, i’m very fond of it!!
essentially alex from 2008-ish?? like just before the flashbacks era?? he wakes up in modern-day post-canon where he’s married to michael guerin and he is very confused!! (presumably 2023-alex wakes up in the past as well, but i haven’t written that part yet lol)
here is a snippet!!
Alex has been staring, open-mouthed, for way too long, judging by the growing groove between Not-Guerin’s eyebrows. “Alex, honey,” he says, voice unbearably soft, still sleep-rough. “Are you okay?”
Maybe Alex is having a very plot-heavy sex dream? Is that what this is?
“I’m fine,” Alex says on auto-pilot. And then: “I’m sorry, I have no idea what’s happening. Where am I?”
Guerin’s expression shifts rapidly from concern into downright alarm. “Uh, our bedroom?”
“What?” Alex says weakly. Our?
#it was very hard to choose a snippet i have lots of good ones!!!#i sound like a broken record but i WILL finish this one soon i actually really like it#ask games#q answers
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Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update
Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk
✮ — Part 2 + rewrite
Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!
It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao
Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)
ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!
✮ — December will be for
planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.
Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions
I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!
work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!
And also take a small breather because I am moving!
✮ — Patreon
I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3
✮ —
My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!
That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!
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How Would I? - Nico Hischier
A/N: I am going to be honest and say I am actually nervous to post this. I went back and forth on if I needed to soften this up. Ultimately, I feel it is much better as is. But this is definitely dark, so please read at your own discretion!
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Robbery, assault, broken bones, pregnancy talk, violence.
“Hi.” I whisper to my husband via FaceTime. My feet gently rock Lucie and I on the rocking chair in her room. Nico smiles excitedly when he sees my face. He is leaning against the brick wall of the Prudential Center. The team is having a Dine with the Devils charity event at the arena.
“Hi.” Nico murmurs back. “She asleep?”
“Yeah.” I flip the camera so he can see Lucie’s angelic face. She had a big day playing with Lio at an indoor play house, then having pizza for dinner.
“Good. Her and Lio have fun?”
“So much.” I smile, turning the camera back onto me.
“Cause trouble too?”
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “They conspired by hiding in the upper slides. Only came out when Emma started yelling at them in Swiss German.” Nico chuckles. “The other parents gave her quite the look.” Emma holding her pregnant belly with each heavy inhale added another layer to the picture.
“I’m sure.” He sighs, glancing up and giving a polite nod as a group of fans walks by to the locker room for their tour. “I should be home in an hour or so. Things are wrapping up.”
“Sounds good.” I adjust the screen in my hand. “Can’t wait.”
“Me too, babe. See you soon. I love you.”
“Love you too.” We pucker our lips for smooches, then click off. “Okay, Luc.” I whisper, then stand. My almost five month bump protrudes out as I maneuver Lucie into her bed. She startles a bit, gripping onto her penguin pillow pet. I back away quietly, then shut the door completely behind me.
I hold my belly as I walk back down the stairs. I feel so huge this pregnancy. With Lucie, it seemed like I stayed small until the very end when she began gaining a pound a week. But with this daughter, I’ve been popping since last month. I scratch at the itchy skin around my belly button then head into the kitchen. I finish loading the dishwasher, reaching around for the detergent in the bottom cabinet. I hear the front door open and foot steps on the rug in the entry way. I stand up, closing the dishwasher and pushing the on button.
“Wow, that had to have been record speed.” I say making sure the light turns on for the wash cycle. There is no response. I move to turn around but a hand clasps over my mouth. This is not Nico. Fear jolts through my body and I try to pull away.
“Stop. If you do what I say, you and your daughter won’t be harmed.” It’s a man. A voice I don’t recognize. My heart lurches into my throat. I stiffen. “I am going to release you now. The last thing you want to do is scream. We wouldn’t want your little daughter upstairs to wake up, Mrs. Hischier.”
I can sense he has been watching us. He knows Lucie is asleep. He knows where her room is. He knows who I am. Who Nico is. It’s all panic inducing. The baby kicks against my abdomen as he releases me.
“Go to the table.” He presses something cold to the back of my neck. I have never felt a gun against my skin before, but it sure feels like one. I purse my lips together and slowly move to the dining area. I glance around, looking for a weapon, cursing earlier me that cleaned up the kitchen. The knives are across the kitchen. The vase is too far away to grab. And the very real possibility of a gun being on my neck stops any other thoughts of fighting.
“What do you want?” I ask, surprise at how still my voice is.
“No questions.” He presses the cool metal even deeper into my skin. The more he talks, the younger he sounds. He rips out one of the dinning room chairs and harshly shoves me down onto it. My stomach bottoms out. The baby kicks harder and I push a hand over her. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant. Otherwise you’d be dead.” My mouth crumbles as he touches my hair. I pull harshly away. “I’m going to tie you up. You’re going to be quiet. I’ll grab what I want and leave. You scream, I take your daughter with me.”
“Please. Let me go to her room. We’ll stay there together. You can take whatever you want. Please. Just… don’t hurt her.” I am sobbing now, thinking of this man upstairs alone with my daughter sleeping. I feel helpless, incapable of protecting her from the greatest danger.
“Your daughter’s safety depends on your cooperation and yours only. Keep your mouth shut and Nico won’t see your dead bodies when he gets home.”
The way he talks about Nico drips with disdain. A gloved hand comes around, grabbing my wrist and forcing it behind my back. I try to fight against him for the other one, but he yanks down on my shoulder which causes a sharp pain through my shoulder blade. No other words are shared as he duct tapes my feet together. Tape gets slapped over my mouth too. Tears immediately trace over the grey strip.
His retreating footsteps can be heard going up the stairs. I’m stuck. I can’t move the chair. If I tip over, I’ll fall onto the baby. I dig my finger nails into my palm, more tear tracks falling down my cheeks. I listen intently for Lucie. She will scream if he goes in there. I know she will. But no sounds come from upstairs. Nothing except the muted foot steps that I’ll never forget the sound of.
His boots hit the hardwood again. My whole body tenses as I feel him approach from behind. I grit my teeth, trying not to show any fear outwardly. Wanting to swing at him with everything in me and rip his fucking eyes out for invading our home.
“One last thing.” He sneers into my ear, reaching for the wedding bands on my left ring finger. I make a fist, trying to keep them on. “Release or I’ll cut your finger off.” He forces my fingers apart, tugging the rings harshly off. As he is pulling back, I’m able to get my finger nails on him. I press hard then drag, drawing blood. “Bitch!” He grabs the back of my head and throws me to the ground. I land hard on my side. I cringe, feeling the pain shoot through my collarbone. He steps towards me. I turn, looking him dead in his masked face. He stands over me. “All you rich bitches are the same. Ungrateful sluts.” He leans down, grabbing my face, pressing his fingers in. “Should untie you and teach you a lesson.”
“Dude! Lights are coming down the street! Let’s go!” Someone else yells into the house.
“Guess I’ll have to come back instead. Maybe on your husband’s next road trip.” He releases my face, stepping over me towards the front door. The voices disappear and the house is quiet again after a click of the front door. His final words hang violently in the air.
I close my eyes, heavy tears running down from my eyes. I pant heavily, struggling to stretch my feet to loosen the tape. I don’t want Nico to find me like this. Every movement makes my chest and shoulder shoot with pain. It isn’t long before the pain is unbearable. I fight back the nausea from it. With the duct tape still on my mouth, I’ll choke If I puke.
“Nico.” I sob against the stickiness over my mouth. Panic is bubbling up, tightening my throat. I stop fighting, eventually growing still, trying to minimize the damage to myself and the baby by becoming calm.
I focus on my breathing. I go to the happiest memories I can think of with Nico. I imagine I’m in bed with him in the morning. He is holding me close, placing soft kisses along my face, waking me up from a light sleep. I hear soft baby giggles coming from Lucie as he whispers for her to give me kisses too. It works. The sound of the garage door opening breaks through my safe place. Then the door opens. Nico tosses his keys on the counter. He walks beyond it, shrugging his jacket off.
His gasp rocks my body when he sees me.
“Oh my god, Lex!” He exclaims, his Nike’s slapping the wood floor as he rushes to me. His hands grab my tired hands. I yelp. He stops, then grabs the tape. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my god, baby what happened?!” His brown eyes are wild, mouth dropped open in shock, breathing rapid. “Are you okay?” He reaches down for the baby, then goes back to my hands.
“Don’t pull my hands. I think my collar bone is broken. He gently works my hands apart. Then goes into the kitchen to grab some scissors. When he has me untied, he works me onto my back.
“Go grab Lucie.” I say.
“Baby, what happened!”
“Go. Grab. Lucie!” I scream back at him. “Make sure she is okay.” Nico backs up, then runs up the stairs, two at a time, barreling into her room.
“It’s daddy, baby. It’s okay. Just daddy. Let’s go help mommy.” He comes back into view, holding her close to him. His eyes meet mine and his face distorts in pain. He brings Lucie to the couch, then comes back to me.
“Call the police. Someone broke in, tied me up, and took who knows what. All I know for sure is they took my wedding rings.” I hold my hand up, Nico looks at the vacant space. A darkness I’ve never seen before crosses over his features. “Can you help me sit up?” I give him my good arm, then sit up with his help. I run my hand over the baby, anxious to feel her move. Nico watches as he pulls his phone out.
“Hi, I need to report a break in… and um, they hurt my wife.” He is stuttering, barely able to form English words.
The police come. EMTs too. They want me to go to the hospital for x-rays and and an ultrasound for the baby. Nico scours through the video systems we have, including the baby monitor. No one entered Lucie’s room after I did, which is a relief. It also makes it difficult to give a description of the suspect because they cut the wires leading to our security system. The police believe with the quickness of the break in and the retelling of my story that they had been casing the house. They waited for me to put Lucie to sleep. For Nico to be gone. For me to be at my most vulnerable.
Nico’s fingers gripped mine so tight when the police officer said that, I had to make him let go.
The x-ray confirm my collarbone is broken. They put me in a sling and schedule me for a follow up appointment next week. I can’t take pain killers; they tell me to monitor my Advil intake because of the baby.
It is hours before we return home. Nico’s car pulls up to the house, but it looks different. Dangerous and dark in the early morning hours.
“We are moving.” Nico says as he walks behind me in the garage with Lucie in his arms. “You are not staying here without me. Every time I am gone, you are leaving too.”
“Nico.” I sigh.
“No Lex. He told you he would be back. I’m not willing to take that chance. Do not argue with me on this.” He shuts the door behind him. “I already sent a text to Steve in hockey ops. He’s grabbing us a place in Hoboken while we search for a new house. We will move into Timo and Emma’s gated community.”
“But this is our home.” I start to cry. He brings Lucie to the couch, then engulfs me into his chest, careful of my sling. He presses kisses along my head, then tilts my face so he can kiss my lips. “This is where we said we would bring all our babies home from the hospital. Where they would take their first steps. And grow up. And be in a safe place. They took that from us tonight!”
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Holding me isn’t going to make any of this better, but he tries as hard as he can.
- - -
Nico watches Lexi and Lucie sleep next to him later that night. Lexi is propped up on pillows, the elbow of her broken collar bone supported by them too. To Nico, she looks fragile, with a sling and a growing belly. He reaches out for her bump, then skims that same hand along Lucie’s head where she sleeps cuddled into her baby sister.
He’s tried to fall asleep numerous times already, but he can’t.
He is fiercely angry.
Angry that someone robbed his house. Irate that some piece of shit hurt his wife. Poisoned by the visual of his pregnant wife tied up and in pain. Terror still fills his veins on what he imagined he would see of their daughter as he ran up the stairs.
All these images and emotions run through his mind. He can’t let it go. The police officers had been gentle yet realistic that they may never find the people who did this.
Fine, then Nico would. If they can’t do their job, he’ll hire someone better. The best money can buy. He’d bring investigators from Switzerland. He didn’t care. He was going to fucking find them.
None of the cameras in the neighborhood caught them. Yet, they were able to pull DNA from under Lexi’s nails of whoever tied her up. That was enough for him. Nico wants five minutes in a room with him to do permanent damage. He understands now how people can be capable of murder.
Him and Lex should have never picked this house. They had other options that provided a security presence, but they thought they were safe. Well, now he knew better. He should have been a better father and husband by forcing the gated community house.
Lexi stirs again her pillows, letting out a soft groan. Nico reaches out for her face, brushing her cheek lightly with his thumb.
“I need something.” She gulps down a tentative sip of water. “Can I take Advil yet?” Nico looks at the time on his watch sitting on the bedside table.
“Yeah, sweets. I’ll be right back.” He gently leaves the bed, careful not to rustle Lexi or Lucie. Their daughter immediately stretches her little feet out to take over his side of the bed. Normally he hates her feet against his back because she kicks him throughout the night. Tonight, it’s everything to him.
Nico comes back to Lexi with two Advil. She sits up to take it with Nico’s help. He rubs her back, anger intensifying at every flicker of pain on her body.
“Baby, I am going to find who did this.” He whispers to his wife. “They’re going to pay for this.”
“Neeks…” Lexi murmurs back, reaching for his face with her good hand. She strokes his skin, eyes wary with worry. Nico looks back at her, gaze hard, until he loses it completely. He drops his gaze to her belly when he feels the tears.
“I almost lost my whole world tonight.” Lexi sniffs because she is crying too. “How would I live without you, baby?” Lexi shakes her head, not sure what to say to her husband.
Gradually, with Lexi’s guidance, Nico lays his head into her lap. His nose presses into their growing baby while Lucie’s hand twitches against his hair. Lexi and Nico join hands on her bump.
The room is silent. The heavy thoughts of their night hanging over them.
Lexi finally gets Nico to sleep by gently stroking his hand, continuously murmuring to him that she’s still here.
#What my world spins around au#Lexi X Nico Hischier#Nico Hischer Fan Fiction#hockey writing#NHL Fan Fiction#hockey fan fiction
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Jack Harlow x Reader : Hospital Visits
A/N : I guess I have to remind you that I’m not a writer and I mainly do Instagram AUS. So to the anons that left me some pretty wild things with my last “fic”, don’t read if you don’t like. 🫶🏻😘
“Dude he’s going to flip.”
Clay nods “I know but he was already on stage.”
“Why didn’t she call any of us?” Urban asks.
Neelam shrugs “She was blowing up his phone and you know I usually have it so I can record for him while he’s performing, so I called her back and that’s when she told me.”
“You do know he’s going to want to go home for this right?”
Neelam nods “I do but he’s not going to be able to. He’s booked, he can’t leave.”
At that moment Jack is walking backstage after his performance. “What’s going on?”
“Y/N called, everything is ok though so don’t worry.” Neelam tells him.
That has him worried in an instant “What happened and where’s my phone?”
“Mia got pushed at school and she broke her arm.” Clay answers.
“WHAT?” He snatches his phone from Neelam’s hand and starts calling you. “She’s not answering.”
“She told mom they were still in the waiting room, so she’s probably not getting any signal in there.” Clay reassures his brother.
“Okay, let’s go, I want to be there before Mia gets in.”
“Jack, wait, you can’t leave just like that, you have an appearance tonight.” Neelam tells him, getting a bit annoyed at him.
Jack stares at her, “You’re crazy if you think I’m making a club appearance when my daughter is laying in a hospital bed with a broken arm.”
He then turns to look at his friends and brother. “You two can stay here, I’m going to see my daughter.” And he walks away, his security team and Urban behind him.
“You and KY go to the club if you want, but you should’ve known my brother wasn’t going to sit still, not when it concerns his family.” Clay says and follows after his brother.
Just then Urban walks back in, “Thank fuck you’re staying, you host the club for him.”
Urban chuckles “Nee, that’s my goddaughter, no way in hell am I staying here.”
*********
“Mama, where’s daddy?”
“He’s working baby, I left him a message so he’ll probably call us when he’s done performing.”
She sighs “But I’m scared and I want him here.”
You smile sadly at her, “I know mama, but everything will be okay I promise you.”
She nods “Okay.”
You and your daughter were currently in the emergency room. She would be getting surgery because she broke her arm in the playground.
Well that’s putting it lightly, she actually got pushed down the slide and it resulted in a visit to the emergency room in which they told you she indeed has a broken arm and will need surgery.
“How will I eat or play with brother mama? I need my arm.”
“It’s not a forever thing Mia, you’ll heal and your arm will be back like normal.”
She groans “But that’s forever.”
You nod. “But that means lots of cuddles and movies in bed.”
She smiles, “I guess that sounds fun.”
“You’re being brave bug, I’m proud of you.”
“It hurts though.”
“I know baby, hopefully they call us soon.”
Twenty minutes later and a run to the vending machine you were getting annoyed that they haven’t called for your daughter. As much as you want to go ask when they’ll get to your daughter, you have to also be understanding and wait until there’s room, or until everyone who has an appointment gets attended first.
“Mommy, me duele.”
“I-“
“Harlow? Mia Harlow?”
You stand once you hear them call your daughters name. “Oh let’s go honey, it’s time.”
******
Two long hours later, your daughter was out of surgery and in her hospital room. She was currently sleeping, but the doctor told you she would wake up soon.
“Hi Mrs. Harlow? Little one has some visitors.” A nurse comes popping her head in and opens the door.
You’re confused because you weren’t waiting on anyone since your mother in law had your son for the evening.
“Who is-“ you don’t finish your words because the door gets pushed open and in comes your husband, your brother in law, and your compadre. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We rushed here for the princess.” Clay says
You nod “I see you also made a pit stop.” You look at the balloons and teddy bears. “She’ll love that.”
“Jack wanted to buy the entire gift shop but somehow there’s a limit on balloons per person here.” Urban jokes.
You smile and go up to your husband. “Didn’t you have to host a club tonight?”
“Like I told Neelam, I wasn’t going to go to a club when my daughter was in here.”
“I’m guessing that didn’t go well?”
Clay scoffs “She’s acting a bit crazy as of lately, she needs to relax.”
“Wait, but how did Mia get hurt?” Urban asks, he’s currently putting on some gloves and going towards the bed and checking on Mia.
“Stop messing around.” Jack tells him.
“The school called me, told me Mia was hurt but that it wasn’t severe. When I got there Mia was crying and clutching at her arm.” You look at Jack. “They didn’t even tell me she was pushed, I asked Mia what had happened and she said a boy kept bugging her since the morning, she told him to leave her alone, she told her teacher but I guess the situation wasn’t handled correctly. The boy decided pushing her down the slide was something he had to do for tattling.”
Your husband shakes his head and goes to lay next to Mia, careful not to hurt her. “I guess moving schools or getting homeschooled should be something we talk about later.”
“Babe no, she’s a child, she should have a childhood. We can go talk to the school, but if it makes you feel better changing her schools, then we’ll do that. But that’s also something we need to talk to her about.”
He nods “Was she scared?”
“She just wanted you, but she understood that you were working.”
Your daughter starts stirring in bed waking up. “Hi baby, cómo estás? Cómo te sientes mi vida.?”
She looks around the room, then to her left and gasps “Daddy?” Then she looks to her right and smiles. “Nino Urby and Tio Clay.”
“Hi baby.”
“Hey princess.”
“Hi Mia bug.”
“How are you feeling baby?” Jack asks his daughter, brushing her hair out of her face.
“It hurts a little.” She then lifts up her arm to look at her cast. “Ohh, pretty color.”
“That is a nice purple huh?”
She nods “My favorite color daddy.”
“I know and look, we got you balloons and teddy’s.”
She smiles “Thank yous.” She then looks up at Jack who’s still laying next to her. “You gonna work daddy?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, I'm going to stay until my baby feels better. Then we’re going home and watch all your favorite movies.”
She gasps “And cuddles?”
“Oh, most definitely. We can never forget about cuddles, and we’ll even use those fluffy blankets your mama has in the closet.”
“With the lions and zebras?”
Jack nods. “Anything my princess wants.”
She smiles at that. “Nino and tio go with us too?”
“You got it.” Clay answers her.
“Only if I get the fluffiest blanket and get to cuddle with you.” Urban answers.
“But I want to cuddle with daddy and mama.”
“Fine but then I’m next in line for some Mia cuddles.”
“Deal.”
**********
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#jack harlow#jack harlow x yn#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow x reader#jackman thomas harlow#urban wyatt#Jack harlow fic
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Wake me up when July is around
Ch. 23/? April downpour
***
You take the midnight subway train
You're callin' all the shots
You're struck by lightning
You're in love
It's not worth fighting
You're in love
You betcha, Billy got the new Ratt's album as soon as it appeared in the stores. Well, in Hawkins there's just one music store in the whole town, but it's better than nothing. Billy is not a complete nutcase to miss out on something like that.
He's listening to it right now, the tape inserted in his Panasonic and volume set to maximum. Neil and Susan are fuck knows where, gone shopping most likely, so Billy can do the fuck he wants. In his room. The red haired leprechaun is having her friend over, the weird girl, it's not total freedom like when he's home alone.
The Panasonic's deck lid is still broken after Neil shattered it in February, but the boom box works just fine without one. Fuck you, dad.
Billy stretches out on the bed, with his arms thrown under the head.
The afternoon is pleasant enough.
You take the evening one on one
You're only livin' to have fun
You want to use me, take me home tonight
I'll make you wish that you were mine
You're struck by lightning
You're in love
It's not worth fighting
You're in love
That's the first song on the track list. The music is excellent, and the lyrics are good, but it .. sounds like an affirmation or some shit, recording the message deep in Hargrove's brain.
You're struck by lightning
You're in love
It's not worth fighting
You're in love
Through the rough chords and raspy vocals he hears distant thuds on the wall.
Heheehe that must be the shitbird. You can choke on your long damn hair, Max, I'm not turning the volume down. Get used to good music, stepsister. While I'm still around. Very, very soon it's gonna be adiós, farewell, never-planning-on-seeing-you-again.
The girls are sitting on Max's bed, all nice and cozy, with books spread out in front of them. They are trying to study for tomorrow's history test, but the dick who's in the next room, is making it simply impossible.
Max has had enough. She moves closer to the wall and bangs on it with her angry little fist
"Billy !! Turn it down! We can't do homework! We can't even talk! Turn it down!"
Glaring at the wall and addressing El
"He is SUCH an asshole. I wish he just .. disappeared!"
"But .. he drives you to school?" El is trying to stay on the bright side
"Yeah, well, I don't care. I can always take the school bus."
El is frowning slightly, taking her friend's words with a grain of salt. She is of the opinion, that it's actually cool to have a big brother who has such a badass car ready to drive you anywhere, at the snap of your fingers.
Max pounds on the wall some more.
No effect whatsoever.
Nope, no effect. The booming sounds are still too loud and too irritating.
Hargrove's lying on his back, leg on leg, shaking his foot which is on top, to the beat of the music. He's already through side One, and flipped the tape to side Two
Another blistering rock song comes on
I don't like your cheatin' misfit ways
I don't stand for givin' it away
Can't you see the world turn and hear the cries?
Can't you see you're burnin' me between the eyes?
You hardly notice
You're burning me between the eyes
Why are so many songs in this album about love? What the hell? Like there aren't other things to sing about
This one isn't bad
My blood is thicker than water
I'm livin' out my life
I'll have my friends forever
We'll walk the sands of time
You should know by now
I never take no chances
Don't stand for compromise
I'll find the hidden treasure
I'm only passin' by
Hargrove is definitely only passing by. In two and a half months he'll forget Hawkins fucking exists.
While Billy is innocently enjoying the new Ratt album in peace, the two girls have plotted to take some action. History still needs to be learnt. Loud music doesn't seem to be close to finishing.
Max and El creep to Billy's door. It's unlocked, and there's even a little crack left.
Maxine's stepbrother is lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, a dumb smile on his lips. What an embarrassing idiot.
The girls don't know it - they shouldn't, no-one must know - but Billy is thinking about Harrington, of course.
Various moments flash through his mind, nothing in particular really. He's just picturing Steve's beautiful face. Harrington started wearing this dark gray jacket which looks so fucking good on him. He's also trying something different with his hair, giving it more volume, and it's captivating to watch it bounce.
Hargrove's been lying on his bed like that for almost an hour already.
Max pushes the door a little.
Billy is still ceiling-gazing, hands comfortably tucked under the head, a dreamy dopey expression on his face.
The album's first track is playing again.
What? It's a nice song. He wants to listen to it one more time.
The new album is alright. Too many lyrics are about stupid feelings, but the sound is good.
You're struck by lightning
You're in love
It's not worth fighting
You're in love
Max carefully opens the door wider, and Billy sees the little rat peeping
Dammit.
Two rats, not just one. A fucking rodent invasion, no less.
He reaches out for the volume control to turn it down, so that he can bark out
"Hey! How long have you two been standing there ??"
Max scrunches her nose
"What are you doing? What are you even listening to?"
El is curiously taking a peek from behind her.
"Not your damn business, Maxine!"
"We just want you to make it down! We can't do homework!"
Billy's rolling his eyes.
"Tough luck, pea-brain. Like studying is gonna make you smarter, uh-huh."
"You're a moron yourself!"
"Close the door! Frigging spy!"
Max is feeling braver with El by her side and opts for getting on her stepbrother's nerves a bit more
"What's with the song? Are you in love or something?"
"Shut the damn door, you stupid gremlin! Stop sticking your nose in my life!"
"Nobody cares about your life! Just turn the music down, asshole!"
"SHUT THE EFFING DOOR, MAXINE!"
El is whispering in Max's ear from behind her back
"He is so mean."
Max gives a careless shrug
"He is always mean."
Billy picks up a book and throws it at the door, aiming at the obnoxious redhead who's making his existence so much worse
El shrieks and Max closes the door quickly, dodging the bullet. The volume is immediately turned back up again
"He's so stupid. I hate him so much." Max hisses and takes El by the hand
"Let's go find something to eat."
"Okay. Who is gremlin?"
"Oh you haven't seen "Gremlins"? We should totally have a movie night!"
The girls go to the kitchen where the sounds of Billy's annoying music are not so ear-splitting.
***
On ao3
❤️
#harringrove#harringrove slow burn#billy x steve#harringrove high school shenanigans#season 1 steve x billy
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one particularly normal morning, I open the sliding door to my small backyard. I’m in a ripped white take and dirty underwear. I’m drinking a cup of coffee. In the sky, I see a plane, dangerously close to me. A thick black cord hangs from the plane and at the bottom a man dangling, tied to the plane by his left ankle. The plane and man start to come closer. This would be such a funny Snapchat I think. With a caption like “that’s so me”. I run inside to grab my phone, I come out and think he’s disappeared but no the man is now caught in some telephone wires trying to free himself. The airplane hovers higher slowly trying to pull him up. The man frees himself, and grabs on the cord in an up right position, he then pulls out a cigarette and starts smoking. I finally press record. I didn’t like it. I delete the snap and record again, the man yells something in my direction, it sounds like he’s concerned and angry.
I think nothing of it. I forget to send the snap.
The next day, an old white man - clean shaven - appears at my door in a beige trench coat and holding a Manila folder. I live with my ex boyfriend.
“Greetings ma’am” the pudgy old man stutters out. He said a bunch of gibberish and said he had to fill out some forms with me regarding the incident. He said there are parts that I will need a representative for… I didn’t know what that meant, I assumed it’s similar to a guardian where someone needs to be there with you. I guess I could ask my ex. I tried to tell him now’s not a good time, I was about to move back to my parents place today.
“It’s imperative we get this done as soon as possible, albeit it is a lengthy process… and if you don’t have a representative with you….”
He forces himself in and has a look of shock on his face when he sees how awful the place looks. Broken dishes from last nights argument, a stack of messily duck taped boxes, clothes strewn across the floor. Food splattered on the walls - also from last nights argument.
When Joel and I moved in together, I thought it was true love. I consistently make rash decisions. Three weeks in he’s treating me like a maid, and if I don’t do everything perfectly he gets really upset. He hasn’t ever hurt me physically - thank god. I’m actually the one who broke our dinner plates yesterday, frustrated when he kept critiquing the way I played his Mac n cheese. That’s when I had it and decided to start packing. He left last night, and god knows when he’s coming back. I hoped to be gone by then.
The man cleared himself some space at the table and sat down. He took out his pen and opened the Manila folder.
“A-alright” he stuttered “please have a seat ma’am, let’s start with your name”
“Meena”
“And can you spell that out for me”
“M, E, E-“
The door swings open. Joel walks in, looking agitated and clearly drunk.
“You want to throw away our entire life together all because I didn’t like the food you made!” He exclaimed. “God women are so crazy, I’m sure this guy gets it” he said pointing to the man at the table. “This your dad? Didn’t think you’d have a white dad” He’s met my parents before, I’m glad I’m leaving.
“Oh dear,” the old man said, “I see this is really not a good time. Can I help you load the boxes in your car?”
“Sure.”
We pack up my car to the brim. My boyfriend, my ex boyfriend passed out on the couch.
“Good luck” the old man says, “I must leave, but I will be back to finish these forms”
Exactly three days later. I am having breakfast with my family. I made pancakes for my younger siblings. There was so much love in the house. A knock at the door.
The old man stands in the doorway. Same exact look as last time, this time there were two strands of hair out of place. He gives me to same speil. He sits at our breakfast table clearing some space. My mom is concerned, but I tell her it’s just a formality.
“Do you have representation?”
I nodded, still not understanding what representation meant, I assumed my mom or dad could be mine.
“Ok, it looks like we didn’t get far last time. Name?”
“Meena, spelled M-E…” you get the gist. Then he asked for my last name, birthdate, place of residence. I hestitated, I didn’t want to put my parents place on this document. I didn’t want it to be traced back to them. He looked indrestandly and said we can come back to that question.
Suddenly my youngest sister runs in screaming and crying. My parents try to calm her. Where’s my brother, Arya? He was with her when the went outside. She’s screaming his name. She points outside. My mom carries her and we all go out, to find my brothers lifeless body.
I can’t tell how much time passed, the man gives me his condolences and says that this may not be the best time.
Two years later. I go to the movies with some friends. A kindergarten teacher and an Olympic athlete. We usually spend Sundays like this. We go the movies, have a laugh, share some popcorn, make out in the back and then go back to one of our places and fuck. While heading back to my car from the movies, I thought I saw a beige trench coat across the street. I shook the thought. We went back to Nara’s place. For an Olympic athlete, she lived in a really shitty building.
“My friend Marie’s been staying over, she’ll probably join us today. She’s a lawyer.” We take each others clothes off while discussing the movie, and filling in Marie on the plot. Marie and Nara are making out, while grace trails kisses down Marie’s legs. I tap out for a water break.
A knock at the door. The same man, this time he looks disheveled. He hasn’t shaven or slept a for weeks. He says the same speech.
“I cut him short, yeah sure let’s just finish this. There’s no table here, I’ll meet you in the cafe downstairs. Give me a second to look decent.”
“Ok, do you have representation?”
I was about to say no when my Brian finally put together that representation might be referring to legal. “I might have something” I say “and shit the door.”
The girls are sitting on the bed waiting for me. “Who was that?” Grace, the teacher, asks. I’m in a rush.
“I don’t have time to explain, but I think I might need legal representation. It’s nothing bad I hope, I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see years ago and I don’t really know what’s going on but he says I need representation. I know it’s asking too much of someone I just met but Marie, do you think you could come with me?” I rambled. Marie looked at me with those beautiful kind brown eyes.
“Calm down Meena. I’ll come with you, you can explain everything to me on the way. We don’t talk to him until you tell me everything.”
Marie and I go down to the cafe. He’s sitting there pen in hand ready.
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Code of Ethics - Ch. 21 - Walkable Landing
This is the largest separation between publications of chapters I've had for this fic to date, but that's only because I've been focussing on new stuff going to my Patreon. Enterprising followers will also note the addition of this fic on my AO3 page, though I haven't gotten all chapters up-to-date yet.
Also, if I keep writing at my current pace, I may have to increase my release frequency.
Diane's Commander's Ability has given her a foothold into the slaver's station, now to just finish them off...
Preview below the cut:
She wound up selecting, ‘Swinging on a Star,’ having been inspired by the bouncy, bold brass of the big band sound she’d not-quite-on-purpose summoned to break into the station. She was apparently so ‘in the zone’ with her Commander’s Ability by that point that all it took was for her to start the music up over the starbase’s PA system (and, apparently, her comms as indicated by Russe gasping in childlike wonder) was to step off the lift and ‘snap’ her fingers while thinking of the song. As soon as her armor-clad middle finger ‘clacked’ against the palm of her gauntlet (the physics of the finger snap were, she would wind up researching later, completely broken and meant that if you had your hand in any sort of glove just wouldn’t create an actual ‘snap’ sound) the sound of drums and horns kicked off the song.
What followed was about one and a half minutes of a practical slaughter set to music that was nearly two-hundred years old and, by the time she’d heard it the first time in kindergarten, was considered a children’s song and usually set to a jouncy-flouncy piano tune. Her father had been a collector of vintage (meaning genuinely antique) vinyl records. Almost as soon as he heard six-year old Dylan singing it to a group of carefully arranged action figures he dug out an old (really old) recording that had been salvaged from some collection somewhere. To Diane’s later shame, she hadn’t ever paid enough attention to her father’s stories about his collection before her mom died, and after mom’s death he just shut down before committing suicide when she was 11 and Tiffany proceeded to sell off or trash anything she didn’t see value in keeping from Diane’s parents, including all her dad’s old records.
This is for you, dad, she found herself thinking as she sang, “...and by the way, if you hate to go to school, you may grow up to be a mule!” before delivering to a charging slaver a superfluously new orifice in the center of his chest.
A couple of centuries ago some man named Frank Sinatra had poured just an absolute master-class level of sass into a song that seemed, on the surface, to be about a bunch of animals and their associated behavior. It was just non-sensical enough that if the listener wasn’t paying attention, they might miss that the lyrics were highlighting behaviors that were antisocial or undesirable in a civil society and comparing them to less than appealing animals.
She racked another round into her shotgun’s chamber and did a sliding Charleston step to dodge an energy round from a pistol fired at her from down the hall before returning fire with the kind of accuracy and resulting carnage a shotgun in an urban combat environment could bring. “Would you like to swing on a star?” Naturally, the lyrics felt particularly appropriate during the chorus, which was all about the ambition to stride the heavens as a metaphor for being successful at life.
She did a little dancing twirl, as though she were wearing ballet flats instead of combat-rated gravity boots and took out two more crewmen with two trigger pulls on the beat, “Carry moonbeams home in a jar,” after all, her entire purpose as a player in this game was to become a truly phenomenal station commander and eventually be powerful enough to change the astropolitical space-scape, right?
Diane’s mental count of shots fired from her shotgun told her she’d discharged the last round, so she slung the long-gun over her shoulder, letting the carry strap catch it against her back, as she lifted the P390 to her shoulder and flicked the fire select switch from ‘Full’ to ‘Burst’ and ventilated four slavers trying to cram into the hallway she was walking down through a door clearly meant for a single person at a time, “And be better off then you are...or would you rather be a pig?” Of course, she was supposed to be looking for rogue A.I. and infiltrating spaces they were supposed to be hiding so future hunts could eliminate the threat to humanity, but it was decidedly unlikely that any of these goons she was popping were A.I. beyond the ‘dumb’ kind that managed NPCs in games. She was more likely to find a rogue either in Ops or hidden-in-plain-site among the slaves.
So why not have some fun in the meantime?
There was a natural break in the song between the end of the chorus where the next animal to be discussed was named and the actual verse featuring its attributes, so Diane started doing a skipping dance down the hallway to the music, section now free of hostiles. Russe’s voice cut in, “Oh, lookie there,” he said as preamble, “Someone’s asking nicely to use the comms!”
Diane paused in her dancing stroll and glanced around. She spotted a room with an open door, someone’s office from the looks of it, and ducked inside before saying, “Really? Think they’re offering to surrender?”
“Only one way to find out, you want me to put ‘em on?”
She grinned, perhaps a little savagely, “Why not? It’s only sporting.”
Read the rest on Scribble Hub
#original fiction#fiction writing#fiction#science fiction#sci fi#are we the baddies?#transgender#trans author#queer author#lgbtqia+#lgbtq+#lgbt#lgbtq#trans#trans woman#troubleverse#quietvalerie#trouble with horns#code of ethics#intersex#nonbinary#genderqueer#enby#nb
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More Old Vinyl
I warmed up the steam powered stereo with Apple Music and Billy Joel. We were watching that TV special in a place they let him finish his last song. So with all these songs in my head I decided to let them ride. He has a lot of songs.
After 90 minutes I decided to dust off Bruce Springsteen. Also NY metro as in New Jersey rather than Long Island. ( I have a bit of history in that area) I have a few Springsteen albums. I pulled out "Darkness at the edge of town" and "The River". These I think map his shift from a Jersey Shore party punk to more of an urban version of country music. Soulful and reflective and solid common man stuff.
Oh and full disclosure, I saw mention of these on that annoying Better-Records site. They want $750 USD for one apparently very good copy of the River.
I and thought hey why not. I have those.
I never thought to listen to these "critically" I bought them new soon after their release. I only played them on good equipment and kept them clean. The two albums consist of three disks total.
Darkness was a clean and rather hot record on the first track. The extreme treble was almost too much, not distorted or wrong, just like the knob was turned a bit too far. The rest were more reasonable. No clicks or dirt sound and very good condition for an early 80s disk. There actually was some realistic space which I find surprising in a studio record. The drums and Bass were very good. That record store wanted $400 USD for their copy.
My copy has intensity and drive and all those things. I know that the Boss was looking for a particular sound ( I read his book) and that was tricky as he and SVZ were new to the producer game. Generally they seem to have got it in the end.
The River was more reflective and felt more influenced by old school country and folk like Hank Williams and Woody Guthrie. (I am old remember). There are two disks with one of my favorites "Hungry Heart". My granddaughter likes that song too and sings along with her 7 year old voice. One of the interesting things is I often play this off my Iphone in the car and well it sounds much better than that on the big system, surprise! Overall it has good sound and timbre and even space. But it is not about sonic tricks and that. It is a document on dreams, pain, and loss. Hey if you want a scholarly analysis, that exists just wiki it. I am just one guy in the crowd.
You know this curating of old records is laced with irony. Who spends almost $1100 bucks to buy 2 "good copies" of albums singing about failure, loss, broken dreams, and the working class? It almost feels like betrayal. Hey I know Bruce is wealthy and successful now, but then..... He worked really hard for it.
If a disk is free from damage and dirt let it spin dammit. Clean it if needs be. Listening critically is not what you are supposed to do with this stuff. It is not for audiophiles, but just normal guys. If such has a nice system well rock on. If not just share the feeling.
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workn on the music and stuff
hello! been working on the score for the film. its made from feedback sounds (made by pressing electric guitar leads with my fingers) and then adding drums. the drums were recorded on my phone very loosely, just about trying to slowly increase the intensity of the score by drumming faster and faster over time. i panned one drum to one side and another to the other side, so hopefully it'll feel disorienting and immersive in something that doesn't actually exist!
then i added "jisas yu holem hand blong mi", which is probably my favourite little song. like, my automatic answer type of thing. not my favourite right now but a good answer for my favourite.
youtube
it's kind of religious, i just like chanting and clapping and i don't know what the words mean but the notes are pretty. i used a beat delay thing to distort it and make it sound like a broken brain or something. i also got a low-pitched version of it and put it underneath the entire thing, just to kind of fill the piece out and add some bassier tones to it, since the feedback sounds are higher-pitched and sporadic in the first half.
then i added a little bit of singing to give the audio a more human quality, the sense that there's a person hidden deep inside this fucked-up-ness. it's very quiet, but there is a completely unaffected voice somewhere in the right channel, singing softly.
i also added some super reverby piano organ chords. the chords are in the key of the above song, the organ was chosen cos it's sort of religion-y, and the chords were performed so that they get thicker and more dissonant and random as the score continues. it's inspired by "fittier happier" by radiohead, which is obviously 100 times better than mine, but they spent like 3 years making OK Computer so umm fuck u
youtube
i remember my friend showing me this video when i was like 13. he was like, this is so deep. and he was totally right but its funny to me cos he would totally hate radiohead now. he doesn't like rock music at all and radiohead is way too mainstream for him. just one of those weird things. why did he love THIS radiohead song out of all the radiohead songs. he's a really cool weirdo.
and then i sang a little melody over the chords, but i added a ridiculous amount of reverb and made it a little quieter and added another layer of the same performance but an octave higher, and panned them on different sides, and then made them slightly out of sync, and now the voice sounds like a weird beautiful synth. the tone of the first half is a lot more earnestly emotional. like, actually fucking me up kind of emotional. the music really does something to me now, which is great because so far this piece has felt a bit emotionally dead to me.
the tone of the music is kind of similar to this kind of thing:
youtube
david lynch often has like,, stupid and beautiful moments in his movies. there's so much unexplainable and horrifying darkness in his movies, and then sometimes there's just these equally absurd breaks in the clouds and it's really glorious and wonderful. and the music he uses is often very churchy or gospelly or very very suspended chords turning into some gigantic resolution / cadence thing. and the tone is always lifting organ energy and raw crying with happiness.
youtube
also the music from a movie like drive or really any recent nicolas winding refn thing. only god forgives also has music like this, but i guess drive has the most tender energy out of his films. this music is from a scene that goes from extremely beautiful love to extremely fucked violence almost instantly, which isn't exactly what my film is, but it's not totally off! the contrast is just a bit less exaggerated, and the transition is less sudden.
anyway the music feels mostly done. i've added it to the half-finished film and exported it, so i'll test how it sounds in the speaker-box system. i've texted someone about buying a crappy monitor, so hopefully that'll be done soon.
the last two things to do are:
figure out the monitor
animate and add in the gifs
yippee! it's gonna be tight but i think it's possible. i also think its possible it wont work. i have a kind of solution for if i cant get the monitor to work. the animation gif things are important, but i have time to do them, it'll be ok.
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exactly one said person said maybe so I'm doing it lul
This was written prompted by my rp group of friends, so if anybody wants to ask any questions about these OCs or for any context feel free to!
Lowkey put my heart and soul into this so I feel like I should share it somewhere other than my discord server, lol. This was copy-pasted from google docs and written originally for discord's formatting so if you see any asterisks I missed (*) in here, just know it's meant to be italicized.
Warnings for mentions of sexual abuse and drug use.
WORD COUNT: 11,450
James ran Andro’s words through his head over and over again like a broken record. Your outpost is Tiao’s inn. There is activity in Pandaria you need to investigate. You will not report back to Acherus for two days. He knew it was bullshit. He was ninety-percent-sure Tiao knew it was bullshit. But who was he to argue with a Knight that was senior to him?
You sly bitch, he thought silently, half-hoping the malice that accompanied it was strong enough to telepathically reach Andro, and half-thanking him with all the gratefulness he had left.
“Well, here we are,” Tiao announced with his hands on his hips, striding confidently through the inn’s front entrance. James slinked in after him as Puli and Bruuk looked back up at them. Did Puli just clean glasses all day or?
“Damn, Tiao,” Bruuk commented. “You brought the lad home for the night?”
“It’s not like that,” Tiao replied quickly. “He’s stationed here at the inn to investigate necromantic activity in Pandaria.”
Puli blinked a few times. “Necromantic activity. …In Pandaria. ….Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.”
“I dunno, man,” James answered, shrugging with defeat. “Ask Andro.”
“Well, while we’re all sleeping, James needs a place to stay. I can pay for his room if needbe,” Tiao offered, leaning with one hand on the bar and looking at Puli expectantly.
James was about to interject and offer to pay for it himself before Puli made a hissing noise through his fangs and winced. “Oooh.. Er- Tiao, my dear friend,” the Pandaren began. “It’s.. rather late in the night and.. All our rooms are full. So the only place he could reasonably stay is-”
“Your room!” Bruuk interrupted with a loud cackle, pointing at Tiao and then slapping his knee.
Tiao’s face went pale. His cool demeanor dropped in an instant. He still stayed leaning nonchalantly on the counter, but his entire form visibly tensed as he just sort of stared at Puli in disbelief.
Puli offered Tiao a sympathetic yet amused smirk, the graying fur on the end of his muzzle ruffling with the rest of his face. “Sorry, Tiao. But the rooms are all rented out.”
Tiao cleared his throat and nodded, moving a muscle for the first time in at least half a minute. “Right. Uh- we can make that work. James?”
It was James’s turn to freeze up--literally. As soon as the Brewmaster’s gaze hit him he tensed, too, hearing the small yet distinct sound of frost creeping over bits of his clothes. *Calm DOWN!* He urged the ice within himself, as if panicking would help. “Uh- yeah, sure. For sure.”
“Welp,” Bruuk said after he’d caught his breath, slapping his hands on his thighs and standing up, waltzing towards the stairs. “I’m goin’ to bed. Have fun!”
Tiao glared at him for those last two words, which Bruuk responded to with a grin before disappearing upstairs.
“I’m going to be finishing up out here with cleaning,” Puli murmured, twitching his whiskers and watching as James’s new puppy, Samwise, roamed the floor, and evidently didn’t seem the least bit worried about it. “You two should probably get some rest as well, no?”
“I suppose,” James nearly groaned. He didn’t dislike spending time with Tiao at all--quite the opposite, actually--but people being able to read through him like he was transparent was uncomfortable to say the least. He was used to caring for other people. He wasn’t used to other people caring for him. More worrying was the fact Tiao seemed to care for him--he spent time indulging him in his interests, actively paid attention to him of all people during conversations, and even matched him beat for beat--so could he see through the facade, too? Was it really that easy? “Eh.. lead the way.”
Tiao sort of tipped his hat to Puli and rekindled his confident body language, striding up the stairs and James following him self-consciously, wondering if the Pandaren innkeeper’s eyes were on him. The Brewmaster’s room was not far; in fact, it was the first door on the left. Past a creaky bamboo door was a sizable room with all sorts of books and scrolls and clothes strewn about, but not in a way that gave off the vibe it was dirty, but cozy rather. There were also several kegs of who-knows-what in each corner. “Er- sorry for the mess,” Tiao muttered. “I wasn’t expecting any company.”
“That’s alright,” James replied. “I like to think I’m not judgemental.” In truth, the state of the room was the last thing on his mind. He was much more worried about frosting over the lovely carpet out of sheer fear. There were so many implications in a setting like this.
“Well.. do.. you want the bed?” Tiao asked, blinking at him.
“Huh-? Oh, no, I don’t need to sleep-”
“Well *I know,*” the monk interjected. “But have you, like.. laid in a bed in a while? Relaxed at all?”
“I don’t need rest,” James insisted.
“Your body might not, but your mind does. I can sleep on the floor, James,” Tiao replied, seeming rather determined.
“It’s *your* bed,” the Knight argued. “Look- here.” He suddenly grabbed Tiao by the shoulders and forcefully planted him on the edge of the bed, then let go and sat next to him, crossing his arms. “....If you insist I rest.. then I will, but only on the terms that you get to sleep in your own bed, too.” Tiao stared at him uninterrupted for a while, while James looked away sheepishly, begging the ramping ice inside him to fade back to normal. Why am I so worked up over this?!
Finally, like a saving grace, Tiao spoke, healing the gushing wound the awkward silence was trying to tear open. “...Alright then,” he muttered casually, taking off his hat and placing it next to the bed and then laying back, sighing and folding his hands over his own abdomen. James supposed he should properly lay down, too, and did so, the size of the bed forcing his side to press against Tiao’s. James hadn’t been nearly this close to a living person in a while, and he was remarkably warm.
“I’m.. sorry if I’m.. cold,” James uttered.
“Oh, it’s alright,” Tiao said with a chuckle, at least turning to smile at him. James was beginning to quite enjoy that smile. “I usually sleep with my windows open and all my sheets off anyway, and hardly any clothes.” The awkward laugh that followed showed he may have regretted stating the later part of that sentence, but James certainly didn’t regret picturing it for a moment.
“You were right, by the way,” James murmured, shifting a bit. “I haven’t laid down in.. months, probably. If not years. I see no point.”
“Laying down in a bed for hours is not just for the body, James. It’s for the soul just as much,” the Brewmaster noted.
James looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I.. I had lots to do. I had somebody to go looking for.”
Tiao paused for a moment and then shifted as well, turning to his side and propping his head up on his hand, his elbow planted on his pillow, and peering at the Knight. “If you’ve got stories, I’ve got ears.”
James smiled at him. “I was looking for my little brother Randolph for the longest time,” he answered. “We.. were separated when I died. We lived in Pyrewood Village, just outside the Greymane Wall, and were ultimately locked out when the damn thing was finalized. When the Worgen invaded, we.. survived off of whatever I could gather. I learned to stab rabbits at a very young age. And make knives--for the purpose of stabbing rabbits.”
Tiao blinked at him worriedly. “What about your parents?”
James sighed and turned away again thoughtfully. “Left when I was five. Randolph was born when I was four. They just.. abandoned us one day. Never really cared for me or fed me or dressed me, and when Randy was born I changed his diapers. I gave him his bottle. I bathed and held him and put him to bed, because I knew if I didn’t, nobody else would.” He fidgeted with his feet a little. “So I taught him to hunt rabbits, too. I guess I shoulda taught him to fight.”
“What happened?” Tiao asked.
“...The Forsaken,” James replied. “We were able to evade the Worgen, but the Forsaken were hellbent on purging any and all life that still remained out there before finally breaking into Gilneas. They found us. Tracked us down like bloodhounds. I had a makeshift sword I found on an old weapon rack and I knew what I had to do. I was twenty-three, Randy was nineteen. He may not be that much younger than me but he’s still my tiny little brother in my eyes and always will be. He didn’t know how to fight, either. So I told him to run, and he did as he always does. He listened to me.”
The man next to him furrowed his brow in worry. “...They killed you,” he said softly.
“They did. But.. I was okay with that in the moment.” Every specific swing of that shoddy broadsword rang out in James’s head as he remembered it clashing with the perfected metal of the Forsaken troops he was battling. “Every single move.. Every step.. Every attack and parry. It was one more second I bought for my brother. So I fought with everything I had. If I could just buy him a little more time.. by living a little bit longer..” Suddenly, he felt very aware of the still-open gash in his chest.
“You knew you were going to die,” Tiao whispered, as if in shock.
James shook his head. “There was absolutely no chance for me, Tiao. But there was for Randolph. And knowing he survived is my biggest accomplishment.” He smiled bittersweetly. “When the Ebon Blade raised me and I told them the tale of my death, they dubbed me ‘Wolfheart.’ Partly for being Gilnean, and partly for how hard I fought.”
The Brewmaster didn’t respond for a moment. He laid on his back once more, processing the information. For a moment, James worried if he’d made the atmosphere too heavy, before he finally said whatever was on his mind. “...I wish I was as brave as you.”
James sat up now, looking at him with confusion. “I- what? How could you say that? I’ve heard wonderful things about you from Frost.”
“Meh,” Tiao replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve been a coward before.”
“So has everyone,” James argued.
“I-” Tiao averted his gaze for a moment. “...I know. But.. I’ve been a bigger coward.”
James laid back down again and peered at him. “Then tell me.”
Tiao’s eyes snapped back to face him. He stared again, processing what just came out of his mouth. James swore that sometimes he looked like a kicked dog. “...I’m not sure if you’d think the same of me if I did.”
“I promise, if you tell me you kicked over, like, an old lady using a walker or something for absolutely no reason, I’d probably still stick around,” James replied with a snicker.
Tiao just returned it with a sad gaze, seeming to debate something internally, before abruptly getting out of the bed. James panicked for a moment--did he say something wrong?--until the brown-haired man made his way to an old drawer and opened it, pulling out a bright crimson cloth. “...*This,* James,” he muttered, “...is a Defias mask.”
James stared at him dumbfounded. How.. old was Tiao again? Fourty-three? The Brotherhood was active beginning about.. what, twenty years ago? By Goldrinn, he’s telling the truth.
“I worked as a Stonemason to help rebuild Stormwind after the Second War,” Tiao began, examining the red bandana in his hand with disdain. “We were not paid appropriately for our work due to the manipulation of Lady Prestor. When the riot happened that killed Tiffin Wrynn.. we had to flee. Varian was not a patient king.” He took a moment for a breath, then continued on. “Furthermore, Westfall was not given the funds it needed. The taste for blood rose in our group and we became the Brotherhood. If people didn’t comply with us, they..”
James’s eyes narrowed in concern as the man before him, so confident and proud and stable, began to physically tremble.
“...I remember a man that had three children,” Tiao murmured softer than a feather, clenching the red cloth in his hand as it slowly balled into a fist. “But he also had money, so I was told, and no interest in associating with the Brotherhood. …I remember the fear.. I- I remember the fear in his eyes.” Regaining himself, he said with full confidence and yet full guilt at the same time, looking James in the eye. “I slit his throat with a machete. I watched the life leave his eyes. That is why I am a coward, James. He had four copper in his pockets.”
James’s jaw hung slightly open. What disturbed him was not the image of a father of three dying for four copper via a machete to the neck, strangely enough. No--he had seen worse in his time as a Death Knight. What did disturb him, however, was the sheer and unbridled pain in Tiao’s gaze, the agony of which he clenched his old Defias mask, the ache in his limbs as they tensed while he waited for a response. James did not have one just yet--he had more questions instead. “....Tell me.. about Tucker.”
Tiao’s defenses were shot down again and he nearly took a step back. “W-What?”
“Tell me,” James insisted. He knew exactly where he was going with this. “...about Tucker.”
After a moment, Tiao humored him, setting the cloth back in the drawer without the care to fold it and closing it away. “Tucker was a goddamned monster,” he sneered. “He is the only other person to walk Azeroth--besides the others in the Brotherhood--that knew I was with the Defias.. other than my mentor Sheefu, whom I’ve opened up to since he’s begun mentoring me. Not even Frost or Shadow has ever known. Not Puli, or Bruuk, or anyone. Because my first experience with telling anybody was Tucker, and he took advantage of that.”
James stared him down. “He abused you.”
Tiao shook his head. “He abused Shadow and Frost.”
“Yes,” James interjected. “But he abused you too. Just in a different and subtler way.”
Tiao didn’t respond directly. “I.. was.. yelled at occasionally. And told to mind my business, and to stay in my place. Otherwise.. who else would take me in for employment? How else would I survive? What if it got out? So I stayed quiet. I didn’t do or say anything except comfort Shadow and Fauna when I could. Get them a water.. Let them cry on me.. I- I felt.. trapped. And yet I did nothing.”
“Until you didn’t,” James corrected.
“...I guess,” Tiao replied, looking away. “I heard so many things I wish I could erase. I heard so many cracking voices and pleas. I heard..” He nearly broke down right then and there but gritted his teeth instead, visibly fighting tears. “I had to hear the two most important women in my life beg for their safety. Beg him to stop. Or even worse, be so fucking high off whatever shit he drugged them with they couldn’t find the emotion to even care he was there at all. So fucking numb.. You know- you know that’s an actual thing?” His voice shook as he gestured wildly. “You know Shadow actually went numb down there for a few years? Did you know that? Do you know that’s how fucking horrible that place was?”
“*Tiao,*”
“I wanted it to stop so bad,” he practically sobbed, clenching the sides of his head. “I- I went up to him and I screamed at him. I threatened to hurt him. And I hate fighting people. And- and he fired me. And I was homeless and out of a job, just like that. He went through with it. I was-.. helpless again.” He wiped his eyes on his arm. “And that’s when I fled to Ironforge.. and found Bruuk. And we started working together and then moved here. That’s.. that’s how it’s been since.”
“So what I’m hearing,” James began, “is you were indoctrinated at a young age--what, late teens?--into a radical terrorist group known to be violent to people who tried to avoid its grasp, were forced to commit crimes to survive that you now regret, fled because your heart told you it was wrong and were then financially and emotionally preyed upon by some make-pretend pimp in an inn, who used his power over you to force you to turn a blind eye to what Shadow and Frost were going through--which they have never blamed you for in the slightest, by the way--and then in another act of courage you actively sacrifice your wellbeing to stand up to him. Is that right? Is that what I’m getting?” His eyes practically bore into Tiao. “Because the person I’m facing right now is no coward. I’m looking at the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
Tiao continued his trend of staring for a moment to process hard-hitting words, his brew-colored eyes watery with stinging tears before he sobbed hard and absolutely let loose, literally collapsing into James’s arms. James didn’t hesitate. He held him tight, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head against the other man’s shoulder, letting him sink into him. Tiao reciprocated the hug. His embrace was warm and peaceful despite the hot tears leaking onto James’s chest and the heartbreaking noises of despair.
“It’s okay, Tiao,” James whispered, stroking along his back slowly. “It’s okay. I promise.”
The monk’s body heaved as he cried, his hands clutching onto the back of James’s baggy hoodie as he attempted to gather himself. “I- s-ss.. t-thank you,” he worked out in-between choked noises, and James just nodded.
“You’re no monster, Tiao, far from it,” he reassured. “Bravery is not the lack of fear. Bravery is doing the right thing in the face of fear.”
“I-I’ve.. never told anyone except- except T-Tucker and Sh-Sheefu this before,” Tiao admitted. “I c-couldn’t even tell Khoreeld.”
James blinked. “Who’s Khoreeld?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tiao replied. “He and I just- didn’t work out.” He pulled back, sniffling, and trying to wipe away his tears as he faced James again, before he offered to simply wipe them for him with his thumb, the water turning to gentle snowflakes as he shooed it away from the man’s face. *God,* he wanted to kiss him. “I’m not- upset about that. I just mean- I.. I trust you.”
James couldn’t help but smile. For once, he didn’t look away from his gaze. Instead, he met it. “I trust you, too.”
He could’ve sworn for a split second Tiao was beginning to lean into him again. He could’ve sworn for a second one of them moved ever so slightly. He might’ve been daydreaming. He might’ve hoped for Tiao to wrap his arms around him again and tumble backwards into the bed James was still sitting on the edge of--but instead, Tiao turned and coughed, instinctively bringing up his hand to his mouth. The cough sounded rather violent and actually quite concerning. He hadn’t been alive for a long time, but he knew it wasn’t good when you sounded like that.
“Tiao? You okay?” James asked, concern seasoning his voice.
“Eackh- yyyup-” Tiao replied brokenly. “I’m- so sorry- hold on.” He abruptly left James there, causing the Death Knight to sorely miss the warmth of his presence, and rummaged around near his nightstand for a bucket, which he then dropped to his knees on the floor with and then promptly puked into. That was a blow to James’s ego, to say the least.
“Oh- I-” James’s hand hovered worriedly. “Tiao, are you okay-”
“Yyup,” Tiao repeated before heaving once more into the bucket.
“I- oh my god, okay-” James looked around frantically. He wasn’t really sure what to do. What did he appreciate when he was throwing up? Well- he hadn’t had long hair in a while, but when he was little he did, and, with memory serving him, he jumped into action. With one hand gathering Tiao’s hair to hold back for him, he noted he also used to quite appreciate a cold washcloth. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it’d do, he figured as he pressed his other palm to Tiao’s forehead and let it grow just slightly colder. Tiao seemed comforted at least, because he slowed down and after a moment stopped throwing up all-together.
“I’m- really sorry,” Tiao muttered weakly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“That’s okay, I understand,” James replied, before noticing something odd about the contents of the bucket. It wasn’t vomit, which was the first thing that caught him completely off-guard. It *was* flower petals, which was the second, and third was that it was black and ice-blue gradient petals that had actually just ejected themselves out of Tiao’s body.
*Lichblooms.*
James turned to Tiao. “...Have you been.. flavoring my food with your puke-blooms?”
“N- NO!” Tiao replied panickedly, and James almost laughed. “I- It’s seriously the herbs Sanlas gathered for me for Winter’s Veil, I promise! I-If I run out, I’d go to Icecrown to get more, I swear-”
“I believe you!” James replied with a snicker. “I promise. So- is this the flower disease you were talking about?”
“...Yes,” he replied hesitantly. “I.. suppose it’s returned.”
“Well let’s make sure you’re taken care of, then. Come here.” James promptly helped Tiao lift himself up off the floor and back onto the bed, laying him as he was earlier and then sliding in next to him, purposefully ramping up the cold in his body to help soothe Tiao. He remembered the feeling of being insufferably hot whilst puking, and knew his chill could help. He supposed it did, because, as time passed, Tiao began to emit a soft yet rhythmic noise James also hadn’t experienced in a while--snoring. The Knight smiled, just glad he could be of help to the monk and that he was sleeping soundly, and awaited for morning whilst staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling, as wide awake as he’d been since he’d been raised.
----
Tiao���s eyes opened to rays of sun beaming softly into his room. He felt comfortable--more comfortable than he’d felt in a while--and then suddenly noticed the soothing cold presence at his back. A distinct pale arm was draped over his waist and he nearly jumped. Instead, he sort of slowly turned to face James, whose eyes shot open, and Tiao remembered the man wasn’t able to actually sleep in the first place.
“Oh,” James murmured with a smile, his voice impossibly deeper, likely from just being able to relax his muscles for a while and simply hadn’t spoken in several hours. “Good morning.”
Tiao felt the blood rush to his face. “Mornin’,” he muttered in surprise, his voice also slowly warming up. “I- did we..?”
“Huh? Did we what?” James just blinked at him.
Tiao scrounged around in his memory helplessly. He felt as though if something sexual did happen between him and James, it would’ve been the first thing cropping into his mind when he woke up. “Er.. cuddle-?” He asked instead.
James smiled again. “You were feeling sick last night. I.. thought the cold would help.”
The cold did help, actually, and yet didn’t at the same time. Puking up flowers certainly felt nauseating, but James’s presence was exactly why the flowers were a problem. Or, at least, that was his working theory. With Khoreeld, he was puking up the petals of black dahlia flowers, but now he’s been hanging with James and feeling a certain pull towards the death knight, and now of a sudden none other than Lichblooms are growing inside him. He knew exactly what the change in flowers meant. “I-.. yes, it did, actually. Thank you.”
James dipped his head and slowly withdrew his arm from Tiao, which the Brewmaster tried not to frown at. “I’m not sure what time it is, but the sun has been up for a bit.”
Tiao grunted in acknowledgement and turned away, clumsily feeling for his SotF watch on his nightstand and clipping it on. About noon. “God.. I fell asleep in my clothes. I think I cried so hard I tired myself out last night. I need to change.”
“I.. oh, shit, I don’t have any other clothes,” James muttered, putting his hands on his pockets and looking around as if he’d forgotten his wallet instead. “Andro just said the mission thing so suddenly and I guess I didn’t get a chance to pack anything.”
“That’s okay. My clothes might be a bit big on you, but you can borrow some,” Tiao offered without even thinking about it as he stood up from the bed.
James immediately cracked another smile at him. God, he was getting addicted to that smile. “I- yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Tiao replied, walking over and rummaging through his clothes drawer, noticing the absence of the bandana and remembering he just sort of dropped it on the floor as he broke down. Usually, every morning when he opened this drawer, it was there folded up in the corner to torment him. Staring him down just as he stared back at it and remembered all the people he’d robbed and cheated and some he even killed. To remind him to never revert to such a cowardly state.. but, even if its current relocation to the foot of Tiao’s bed was accidental, it did feel oddly healing in a way. Like he’d gotten it off his chest for good. Maybe he could open up to Puli next.
Tiao tossed James a t-shirt and sweatpants and the Knight caught them with ease. “Is, uh.. there a bathroom here I can change in?”
Tiao nodded, pointing towards the door. “Right across the hall from here.”
“Sweet,” James replied, getting up and slinking out the door. “Thanks. I’ll be in the lobby.” He shut the door behind him and Tiao suddenly felt.. alone. Crushingly alone. The silence and the slow warming of the room as James left was suffocating. He’d only be separated from him for a few minutes, so why did it feel like hours?
Tiao tried to dismiss it and got dressed himself, grabbing his hat off his nightstand on the way out and smiling proudly at Sheefu’s signature on it as he put it on and headed downstairs, messaging Frost on the way down. James had beaten him there, sitting on the floor playing with Samwise, who was yipping excitedly. Bruuk was drinking a morning coffee and reading a newspaper and Puli, of course, was preparing for customers, as he literally always was.
“Sometimes I wonder if you even sleep, Puli,” Tiao remarked.
Puli smiled with amusement and patted his own, rather pudgy Pandaren belly. “You think I’d be this beautiful if I did not sleep?”
Tiao could name a few people that didn’t sleep and were quite beautiful.
“You got any bits of meat I can feed this lil’ guy?” James piped up.
“Oh, certainly!” Puli promptly turned and opened a cooler, rummaging through it before handing Tiao an indistinct slab of meat. “Yak!”
Tiao shrugged and tossed it to Samwise, who immediately began to tear at it.
“That dog waited down here in the lobby loyally for ya’,” Bruuk commented.
“Because he’s such a good boy!” James replied, petting the puppy enthusiastically as it munched at its food. “Aren’t you? Yes you are!”
Tiao grinned. He loved the way James’s voice changed when talking to animals. He could tell he was a huge dog person, and simply adored anything small and cute. Feeling an herbal itch in the back of his throat, he coughed lightly into his hand.
Bruuk raised a suspicious brow at him. “What? Ye got a cold again?”
Tiao glanced to see if James was looking--he was not, he was enraptured by the puppy--and then made a shushing motion to Bruuk, who snickered.
Puli sighed and shook his head like an exhausted father.
“I was thinking about taking Sammy here on a walk,” James said. “Wanna come with me, Tiao?”
“Oh!” Tiao sort of looked around, surprised, and then specifically glanced at Puli. He was supposed to get back to work today.
Puli smiled. “We can handle the setup.”
“Sounds like yer free,” Bruuk interjected.
“Sweet!” James jumped up. “Let’s go! Do we.. have a rope around here?”
“If you were able to carry him around the Shrine and sit him down and everything, James, I don’t think Samwise even needs a leash,” Tiao replied.
“Eh, fair point. Sammy!” James gasped excitedly. “Do you wanna go on a.. WALK?”
Samwise looked at him blankly.
“Eh- he’ll learn what that word means,” James supposed, and beckoned Tiao over. “Come on! You know the place.”
Tiao nervously gave Bruuk and Puli another glance. Both of them were grinning at him. Grumbling in embarrassment he followed James and Samwise out the door, striding through Binan Village casually. The village was almost entirely populated by Pan’s family members, and you could see it in their faces and in the colors of their pelts. They all waved at Tiao. Since moving here, he and Bruuk practically became part of the family. That’s just how these small Pandaren towns worked. Samwise excitedly ran up and greeted every single one of them, which James had to chuckle and apologize for. None of the Pandaren minded. If anything, they were happy to pet Samwise.
They followed the stream as they left the village, striding along the smoothly flowing water as vast expanses of snowy peaks stretched out before them on the horizon. The only exception was the gap between them facing somewhat towards the Jade Forest and somewhat towards the sea, displaying a beautiful backdrop of blue skies and soft clouds. Samwise, at least, was having a blast. Sniffing and peeing on everything he could find.
“It’s beautiful out here,” James remarked, his tone full of wonder. “I hardly see sights like these.”
“It’s incredibly peaceful,” Tiao agreed. “I’m grateful to live in Pandaria.”
“You needed this sort of getaway,” James continued, looking at him now. “After the shit you’ve been through.”
Tiao smiled. He was glad James felt as though he had done his best in those events, but Tiao couldn’t bring himself to be convinced of it. “I suppose.”
“I mostly hang around Acherus, which is near Dalaran. The wartorn shores the Legion left behind combined with the aesthetic of the Ebon Blade gets.. dull,” James admitted, shrugging.
“I thought you liked a dark look?” Tiao asked.
“Some color is nice once in a while, too!” James laughed. “I mean-- oh, hey, you have your hat on again.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Tiao beamed proudly. He adored this hat. “I take it off when I sleep and such.”
“‘And such?’” The Knight echoed with a raised brow. “What, the hat doesn’t stay on during sex?”
…..Tiao stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded.
“...It’s a joke,” James clarified quickly.
“Oh.”
“...”
“...Well- no, it does not,” Tiao finally answered with an awkward chuckle. “I treasure this hat a lot. Sheefu Misaki has been kind of like an idol for me for a lot of my life, ever since I started getting into the monk arts. The fact he’s training me now to be a Grandmaster is.. well, no less than a miracle.”
“You deserve it,” James replied. “You have a hell of a heart.”
Tiao looked away sheepishly, smiling and feeling his own face redden again. “Well- I wouldn’t say *that,*”
“I’m serious!” James nudged him encouragingly. It was now Tiao was beginning to actually look at his clothes on James, and it tugged at his soul more than he expected it to. They were *slightly* big on him, but it made him even cuter, in Tiao’s eyes. There was just something about the other man in *his* shirt. “You mean the best for people, and you try to protect people,” James continued. “You’re a supporter. Sheefu picked a good successor.”
Tiao couldn’t help but feel impossibly warm and fuzzy inside, feeling the flowery itch in his throat again. “I-.. thank you..”
James blinked at him, and, to Tiao’s absolute shock, brought up a cold hand to his face, cupping the side of his chin and looking at him. Tiao felt himself tense and repressed a cough, trying desperately not to ruin the moment again. “...You’re really red,” the Knight remarked.
Tiao didn’t have the chance for a response even if he could think of one. Samwise barked excitedly at them and then promptly started tugging at Tiao’s shoelaces with his teeth.
“Ope- Sam! Don’t do that!” James crouched down in front of Tiao ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and shooed the puppy away from his laces. “No chewing on shoes!”
Tiao took the time to cough up a few petals into his hand and promptly discard them in the wind.
“Anyway- the hat,” James reiterated as he stood up straight once again, Samwise deciding to dig furiously into the ground after a bug instead. “You feel more.. real when you’re not wearing it. I mean, it looks fantastic on you and compliments you perfectly- but what I’m saying is I feel like you’re more honest with yourself when you’re hatless. Or maybe it’s your hair,” he said, looking away. “I don’t know.”
Tiao blinked. “I.. do tend to take off the hat when I feel as though I don’t deserve it,” he murmured.
“Well you do,” James said with a smile. “I dunno.. maybe it’s just that I’m seeing more of your face.”
The Brewmaster couldn’t help but grin impossibly wide, feeling flustered as James just looked at him like he wasn’t even remotely bothered. How did he keep himself so cool at all times?! “I- well-.. thank you.” He self-consciously felt the rim of his hat. “I really appreciate that. I treasure this thing. You.. look.. really good, too. Like, all the time.”
James chuckled, and Tiao could’ve sworn he felt a surge of cold air around the man. “Thanks.” And then, out of nowhere, his watch lit up, and James took a moment to inspect it. “Oh, my brother’s calling me. Hold on.”
Tiao nodded and stepped back.
Watching James talk was an entertaining sight. He held the watch up to his ear and put his free hand on his hip--causing Tiao’s eyes to trail a bit, admittedly--as he was turned away from him and had walked a few feet further into the grass. “Hey, what’s up? …Yeah, I’m in Kun-Lai, why? Who told you? …Okay, well- …. Yes, I’m hanging out with Tiao.” Here, James’s voice got a little quieter, but Tiao could hear him regardless. “...Yeah, no, he’s great, really. He’s really kind and sweet and funny.” And then his voice raised again. “Oh, shut UP! …Don’t give me that shit, Randy, I swear to god- …Oh for fuck’s sake, shut the hell up. Okay, yeah. Okay, love you too. Alright, bye.”
James snickered and walked back over to Tiao, who smirked. “Little brother giving you shit?”
James chuckled. “Always.”
“Sounds about right,” Tiao replied. “You said you practically raised him? You get passionate when talking about your brother, tell me about him.”
“Oh. Well..” James seemed thoughtful for a moment. “He’s my whole reason for living. And.. unliving, I suppose. When our parents left us, it was hard. I practically only survived just so someone could take care of him. …I didn’t really have a childhood, to be honest.” He fidgeted with his watch, clasping it back onto his wrist. “I hunt and fought and scavenged.. for him. When I started realizing I was trans he didn’t even realize it was a big deal for me--but like, in a good way. I remember I was fifteen when I said it to him, and he was eleven, and he looked at me with his big ol’ eyes and he said, ‘oh, okay, you’re my brother now!’ And it’s just been that since.” James smiled fondly. “I found old fallen branches and scraped and carved them with a rusty knife into all sorts of things. Toys. Toys for him so he wasn’t bored. Any food went to him first. Sometimes I went days without eating and just told him I wasn’t hungry. I don’t know if he ever noticed.”
Tiao couldn’t help but feel deeply impressed. This man’s undying devotion to his brother was downright honorable. They seemed to have a sort of impeccable bond, hardly without any cracks. It was obvious they’d been through hell together, and even now when they spoke, you wouldn’t be able to tell they’d been apart since the Cataclysm. “Your parents.. how did that affect you?”
“Heavily,” James replied solemnly. “Randy doesn’t even remember them, and that breaks my heart a little. But.. it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t. They’re not worth his time nor mine.” He scowled and put his hands into his own pockets, looking at the ground. “They’re worthless. Pieces of scum that were never ready to have children. I don’t know if I was a mistake. I don’t know if Randy was a mistake. But what I do know is that he’s not a mistake to me, he’s a blessing. There were times I certainly resented him for even existing, because I didn’t get the same peace he did--but I know it was never ever his fault. But anyway- yeah, they never cared about me. Hardly ever fed me or even looked at me, and I knew when Randolph came along it was just going to get worse. I don’t know how anyone has the heart to leave a one-year-old behind.” He shook his head. “The other people in Pyrewood helped us when they could, especially Raymond and her parents. Ray and Randolph were best friends growing up, and then Ray’s family moved into Gilneas. Don’t know how. I think it was that rebel business Michael got himself into.” He sighed. “Shame he turned out the way he did.”
Tiao blinked at him. “You knew Ray.”
“When she was real little,” James said with a smile, making a gesture around the height of his knee. “She was a bossy little girl, I’ll tell you that much.”
Tiao chuckled. “I suppose the leadership carried on.”
James seemed to be thinking back on fond memories. “She knew what she want and when she wanted it, that was for sure.”
“And Randolph?”
“Oh, Randolph did whatever she wanted.” He smirked in amusement. “He was usually a follower. I.. think when I died, it- it messed him up.” James’s cheerful demeanor at past events fell into a somber one. “He’s lonelier now, you can tell. Bitter. And Ray’s death certainly didn’t help. I know that Tree has helped him a lot--god, he talks to me about them all the time. But I can’t help but feel there’s.. damage there. Not with Tree I mean, but just Randolph in general. He’s damaged.”
Tiao frowned. “You did all you could.”
James sighed. “I searched for him for so long. Every day and night, any free-time I got between work at the Ebon Blade. I used music as an outlet.” He then smiled again. “By the way, you’re an incredible singer.”
“Oh- thank you,” Tiao replied. “I quite enjoy music myself. I’m self-taught on a lot of things.” He looked to the side, back from where they came. “We should probably be heading back. I’ve let Puli and Bruuk work by themselves for too long.”
James chuckled. “I suppose so. But hey, you were going under surgery, right? Puli made the right decision in giving you a break. Even if you super enjoy bartending. Which- by the way, since the flowers are back, do you have to get surgery again?”
Tiao stared at him for a moment. He knew James didn’t know what the flowers actually meant but just the thought of forcefully cutting them out petrified him. He hadn’t told James how he felt yet, and he wasn’t about to skip out on that opportunity, even if it was terrifying. He’d just have to live with the flowers until he was ready. “I-.. er- no. It.. didn’t work last time, so I doubt it’ll work a second time,” he lied.
“Oh, true,” James said. “Well- I suppose you’re right. We should head back. Come on, Samwise!”
Samwise barked happily and followed faithfully at James’s heel as he began to walk back in the direction of the inn. Tiao followed just as loyally.
By the time they were back, a few customers had begun to populate the inn. Tiao had a quick exchange with James that he needed to work and help out Bruuk and Puli, and James agreed with a nod of his head, going up into Tiao’s room and finding a book as the monk suggested, then returning to the lobby of the inn and lounging in the corner as Samwise slept in his lap. Tiao meanwhile was moving through the area behind the counter as smoothly as water. He always felt comfortable in this space, whisking between his two coworkers as he poured and mixed and iced and garnished, knowing every single pattern of every single drink and much more like the back of his hand. Knowing exactly what color and shade they should be, exactly how every drink should look, and dumping it if it wasn’t up to his own standard. Every customer--mostly Pandaren that he already knew--smiled with satisfaction at the sights of their drinks. He was refined at this and confident in it. He almost never let a customer down--and even when he did, it was usually an unreasonable request from someone he didn’t recognize, like how the lights sucked or how this random patron didn’t believe ‘foreigners’ should be working here, which he supposed they meant him and Bruuk. Either way, Puli usually dismissed these people with little issue. The locals were kind and welcoming, especially those that consisted of Pan’s family, and most unfamiliar customers that were just passing through were usually polite and jovial as well.
“Hey, James!” Tiao called from across the room, and noted that the death knight was already staring at him anyway. He supposed it was just a coincidence. “Want a drink? I’ve got Lichbloom left.”
“You should see if that works on other Knights,” Puli remarked quietly. “That’s a business venture if it does.”
Tiao grinned at him. “You got it, boss.”
“Uh, yeah,” James replied, setting the book down after dog-earing the page--which made Tiao cringe--and striding over. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually had alcohol before though. Never had the chance.”
“Really?” Tiao asked. “Well shit.”
“Give ‘em some Badlands bourbon!” Bruuk shouted.
“Don’t you think we should start off with something weaker?” Tiao retorted.
“Plum wine,” Puli argued.
“How about-” Tiao examined their supply. “Some snowfall lager?”
James shrugged. “Sure. I don’t know any of this stuff, so.”
Tiao beamed and opened the keg next to him, pouring some into a mug for James and then adding some crushed ice while simultaneously closing the spout on the keg. He swished it around a bit, added the crushed Lichbloom and then slid it across the counter at him as it foamed, the drink stopping right between James’s hands. James blinked at it if he was surprised it didn’t spill. The Brewmaster grinned to himself proudly. It was a showmanship type thing, too.
The Knight hesitantly picked up the glass and blinked at the other man as he took a sip, then looked to the side thoughtfully as he processed it. His eyes lit up as he processed taste again. You could see it in his face that he hadn’t tasted anything in over a decade, except for yesterday. “...It’s good,” he decided, taking another, bolder sip. “I like it.”
Tiao pumped his fist triumphantly. The rest of the night went much of the same, with James going real slow on drinking anything at all (Tiao supposed it made sense, since the man physically couldn’t feel thirsty) and Tiao and Bruuk serving the calm pace of customers rolling in with a smile as Puli managed the back of the inn. Samwise slept like an angel, and before Tiao even knew it the first day of James staying here was over. The last customer walked out with a happy wave of their paw--a light brown and white distant cousin of Pan’s, because of course they were--and the four sort of stood around looking at each other.
“Closing time again,” Puli remarked. “You boys get to bed. There’s only a few dishes out here.”
Tiao frowned. He felt like Puli was doing too much as of late.
“Welllp- don’t have ta’ tell me twice!” Bruuk announced in complete contradiction, hopping over the bar and waltzing out, marching up the stairs and dusting himself off.
Tiao chuckled. “Are you sure, Pul-”
“For the love of Niuzao, yes, Tiao,” Puli replied, grinning. “I mean it, by the Celestials. *Go.*”
Tiao sighed and then dipped his hat, whisking around the counter as James got up from his seat at the bar, the book completely forgotten. “Y’think Samwise will be okay out here again?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d actually rather take him into the room, if you’re okay with him on your bed.”
“Sure!” Tiao answered. “Sammy!” He whistled at the dog.
Samwise’s ears perked, one of them upright like a samoyed’s is supposed to be, and the other one folded over itself in a puppyish sort of way. He then ran up to James and Tiao happily and clumsily, and James scooped him up with a smile and carried him up the stairs with Tiao not far behind.
By the time they were in Tiao’s room again the dog squirmed in James’s arms, eager to be set down and explore, which the Knight then allowed by setting him down again. Tiao sighed and put his hat on his nightstand again, collapsing onto the bed just as he had before.
“Feeling better regarding the flowers?” James asked, laying next to him almost too naturally.
Tiao smiled at him. “It comes in waves,” he replied honestly. It did seem to just sort of crop up whenever it saw fit.
“Ah, well-” James was about to speak before rustles and growls of effort sounded from the foot of the bed as Samwise was clamoring up it, somehow--and then promptly ran up Tiao and James’s bodies and plopped down right between them, thumping his tail and looking up at them with big blue eyes.
“Awwww,” Tiao cooed, petting Samwise. “He’s just a little stinker, oh my goodness.”
“It’s okay if he lies here?” James asked.
“Of course. How could I say no to this wittle puppy face?” Tiao replied, pinching Samwise’s cheeks, which the puppy responded to by trying to playfully bite his fingers. He chuckled and turned over on his side again, feeling the dog and James both reposition themselves in turn. “Goodnight, James.”
“Goodnight, Tiao,” James replied, and Tiao drifted to sleep faster than usual. Maybe it’s because James was next to him.
----
When Tiao began to stir again, James smiled. He quite enjoyed laying next to him all night, but he enjoyed Tiao when he was awake and talking more. Samwise, inspecting the half-asleep man, climbed over his shoulder and began to lick his ear.
“Ope- wh- hey, stop that,” Tiao chuckled, pushing Samwise away, which the puppy responded to by yipping and trying to go back for his ear. Tiao laughed and put Samwise on James instead. “He’s your dog, tell him no.”
“He’s taken quite the liking to you, too,” James replied with a smile, enjoying the change in Tiao’s voice when he woke up. It made him shudder. Pushing that thought away and turning his attention to Samwise again, he booped the puppy on the nose. “No ear licks.”
Samwise licked the tip of James’s finger instead.
Tiao sat up and stretched. “Nghh.. suppose it’s time to get up again.” James would be lying if he said he wasn’t staring at the man as he stretched, taking note of the way Tiao’s shirt raised up a little as he lifted his arms. Sadly, it didn’t last long as Tiao got up from the bed and started rummaging through his clothes drawer again.
James raised a hand. “Could I borr-”
“Yup,” Tiao replied, hitting James in the face with a loosely thrown shirt as he sat up.
“Ack! *Dick,*” James chuckled, and Tiao snickered back at him as he threw him a pair of pants, too. He noted he’d have to change when he went back to Acherus tonight.
…Acherus. It hit him like a train. That was just the last night he got to spend lying around with Tiao in his room, and now tonight he’d have to go back to Acherus and resume his Ebon Blade duties. That.. stung. He didn’t want to be away from Tiao, not now or ever. Had he made the best of these two days? Was it going by too soon? It sure felt like it.
“Tiao,” James spoke up. “...I have to leave tonight.”
Tiao sort of looked at him. James wasn’t sure, but it looked like it broke him, too. “...Oh. Right. As of this evening, your mission is over.”
*Unfortunately,* James thought to himself.
“Well- have you noticed any necromantic activity in Pandaria?” Tiao joked.
“None except for me,” James remarked, standing up as Samwise did the same to follow him.
Tiao chuckled lightly. “Well- I can certainly keep in contact with you through the watch, and we can hang out when we’re both free,” he offered.
“Yeah,” the Knight replied softly. He couldn’t help but still feel sore over it. “Well- I should.. change.”
“Yup,” Tiao replied, nodding towards the door. “I can take Samwise down.”
Samwise was busy sniffing a random sock, so James left, whisking into the bathroom and wearing the second pair of clothes Tiao gave him. He felt warmer in them. He wished he could smell.
On his way downstairs, James actually bumped into Bruuk--literally. He ran into the man. “Oh-!” Bruuk said as he stumbled a little. “My bad, boy!”
“Oh, no, that was my bad, sorry,” James replied, and then blinked a few times. “...Also, I’m thirty eight?”
Bruuk grinned. “Yer a boy in Dwarven years. Say- let me talk at’cha a lil’,” he beckoned with his hand, leading James down the hallway. James followed, but he certainly felt unusual. He didn’t exactly want to cuddle the entire inn crew.
Instead, the Dwarf led him out to a simple balcony, overlooking the village and lighting a cigar he apparently had on him.
“Yanno,” Bruuk began, taking a drag off of it. “That boy’s infatuated wit’ya.”
“Who? Tiao?” James asked, and he wasn’t sure why. Because, like-- duh.
“Eyyup,” Bruuk answered. “The way he looks at’ya, I only ever seen him look at one other person like that. D’he tell ya’ about a ‘Khoreeld?’”
James blinked down at him. “He mentioned it in passing.”
“Aye. He was really into that sonnovabitch incubus. I saw it happen ‘fore my own eyes.” He took another puff of the cigar.
“Why are you telling me this?” James asked.
“Because,” Bruuk replied, looking at him with fiery eyes. “That demon slut cheated on ‘em. And Tiao looked at that boy like a goddamn lost puppy, I’ll tell you what. And then, Khoreeld started driftin’ further an’ further outta his grasp because he didn’t care about ‘em, and just like that Tiao found out he was fuckin’ other dudes.” He waved his cigar at James. “And now he’s head over heels for ya’. Now listen--that boy down ‘ere’s too precious to go through heartbreak again. So if somethin’ goes wrong and I found out you hurt the lad, I will personally come an’ kick yer fuckin’ ass.”
James stared at him, dumbfounded. Bruuk was one of Tiao’s best friends, and he probably knew him well. For Bruuk to outrightly say Tiao was certainly into him.. James felt ecstatic, despite the Dwarf’s threats. “He.. feels the same?”
Bruuk sort of stared at him, as if he previously hadn’t gotten a read on James’s feelings and was just winging this shit, and then grinned at him, dipping his head. “Aye.”
“And- Khoreeld..” James processed the information, gripping the edge of the balcony tightly. “I.. don’t know how anybody could have the heart to do that to Tiao.”
“I dunno either,” Bruuk remarked. “Oh- and that flower thing?”
James paused. “Yeah?”
Bruuk grinned. “Don’t tell the lad I told ya’ this, for fuck’s sake--he’ll work up a whole fit--but the flowers ain’t just magical. They’re emotional.” Bruuk looked out towards the village again. “They represent repressed romantic feelin’s. It started when Khoreeld and him broke up and he went to that Wisteria lady. He was coughin’ up black petals then. Now he’s coughin’ up blue ones. And it’s not Khoreeld he blabs to me about.”
James stared at him again. There was no room for doubt now.. Bruuk was right. Tiao was coughing up Lichblooms, and it *did* always feel like an odd coincidence.. Nodding and swallowing hard, he replied, “..Alright. Thank you, Bruuk. I mean it.”
“Ain’t no problem,” Bruuk replied, tapping his cigar. “Just don’t break the lad’s heart and we’ll be fine. Now, leave me te’ smoke. I’m sure he’s waitin’ on ya’.”
James nodded again and turned to leave, making his way back down the hall and striding down the stairs. He felt himself getting colder with sheer excitement. Tiao liked him back. It was official. The next question was.. what now?
As he entered the inn’s lobby he saw that Tiao and Puli had been in some sort of deep conversation. Tiao’s eyes seemed a little red and his hat was off, and he smiled at James as he entered before putting it back on. Puli gave him an encouraging pat on the back and headed towards the counter.
“You good?” James asked as he approached the monk.
Tiao nodded. “Mhm. Just.. deciding to open up to more people.”
James smiled at him. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”
Tiao grinned and looked away as his face reddened again, and James smirked in deep satisfaction. *Oh, yeah. It’s all coming together.*
“We’ve got quite the busy night tonight,” Puli spoke up. “It’s Saturday. Every night on this day of the week we make it fancy in here, and travelers from all over swing by. It gets crowded, so if you want some time together, best make it count before the sun goes down.”
Tiao turned to James. “Well- there is a spot I wanna show you.”
That one sentence tumbled into a series of events involving Tiao borrowing a small riverboat from the local dockmaster, James realizing anything that wobbles as he steps into it is something that he *does not like,* and a deep, dark tunnel named The Ancient Passage.
“This place is the source of all the rivers in Pandaria. Well- all except one,” Tiao said as he rowed them forward. “The saurok here shouldn’t bother us if we’re just rowing through. This has been a trade passage between Kun-Lai and the Valley of Four Winds for centuries.”
“It’s incredible,” James replied in a wonder-filled whisper, watching the light of the lantern at the end of their boat glisten off the cave walls.
“Oh, just wait until you see this. *This* place is called--” Tiao waved a hand dramatically. “--The Secret Aerie.”
They exited the passage into a wide, shallow pond, with large fireflies buzzing about and soft moss growing on the rocks around the water. Tiao docked the boat on the shore near a flimsy-looking staircase. “Don’t tell me we’re going *up there,*” James muttered, his eyes trailing the stairs into a skinny bridge along the mountains.
“What?” Tiao chuckled. “Afraid of heights?”
“No!” James retorted. “I just don’t like things that don’t look like they could hold my weight.”
Tiao snickered. “If it didn’t function, the Pandaren wouldn’t be using it,” he replied. “‘If you slam your head against a rock and do not gain wisdom, maybe you should lose the rock.’ Besides, we’re not going up there. We are on good terms with the Hawkmasters, but they are a secretive bunch.”
James raised a brow at him. “‘The Hawkmasters?’” He echoed.
“Hawk trainers for the Shado-Pan,” Tiao replied. “Not much is known about them. I think it’s similar to an Order of the Cloud Serpent type deal.” The monk gracefully stepped out of the boat, offering James a helping hand and a soft smile. James felt the cold rise in him slightly as he took his hand, wobbly stepping out of the boat and making a few noises of alarm. “It’s okay!” Tiao chuckled. “I’ve got you. Worst that happens is you eat shit in the mud.”
“Or crack my skull open on one of these rocks and die a second time,” James catastrophized, getting his other foot out and planting it on the ground, sighing with relief.
Tiao snickered, taking his hand from James. The loss of his warm hand intertwined with his own stung. “Well- this is the place. I come here to meditate quite often.”
“Yeah? I thought you trained at Sheefu’s Monastery?” James asked.
“I certainly do,” Tiao answered with a proud grin. “To be a Grandmaster, under the best trainer in all the land. But this place is for when I just want to get away and be by myself for a moment. I think here.”
James smirked. “You seem cocky about your training.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Tiao put his hands on his own hips and puffed out his chest proudly. “I learned to fight in the Brotherhood, but gained honor when I began pursuing becoming a monk. I have even fought for the Faithful. I pride myself on my combat abilities.”
“Yeah?” James met Tiao’s gaze. “Did you forget why I am called ‘Wolfheart?’”
Tiao cracked a mischievous smile. “Is that a challenge?”
“Do you feel challenged?” He was antagonizing the man at this point, but Tiao always picked up what he was putting down. He loved that about him.
There was a pause, and then, in one swift movement, Tiao grabbed a hold of James’s arm and quickly held it behind his back, sweeping his legs at the same time before the Knight even had a chance to react. The monk’s free hand went to his shoulder to lessen the thud of James hitting the dirt face-down, but functioned as to hold him there while he squirmed, his wrist firmly locked at his lower back by Tiao’s grip.
James was.. impressed to say the least, quickly feeling the ice within him build drastically. He had to get Tiao off of him--not only for his ego’s sake but also so that he didn’t notice the ramping cold. “Nyeh- get- off me!” James rolled, having the strength to overtake Tiao pinning him just enough to slam his body into the other man’s leg, causing him to lose his footing and drop to his knees on top of him. Tiao reacted just as fast, planting his hands on the ground so as to not completely eat shit, but James also reacted, his hands instinctively going for the monk’s hips so he didn’t collapse on top of him.
…
Oh dear god, somebody save me.
And then there he was, Tiao just on top of him like this, hands at either side of James’s head just as surprised at the positioning as he was. The tone of his tan face deepened fast, red heat tinting the man’s cheeks as he turned away, fumbling for his hat that had fallen off in the process. “Er- s- sorry,” Tiao muttered.
“It’s okay,” James replied with a light, awkward chuckle, noting that his hands were STILL ON TIAO’S HIPS and then quickly removing them, but still not sure what to do with them, so they just sort of hovered instead.
Answering his prayer in a cruel manner, James and Tiao’s heads turned to the sound of the water stirring as Bruuk, gods bless him, rowed casually into the scene on a boat of his own. “Oi lads, Puli needs you back at the- oh shit, did I interrupt somethin’?”
“Oh- n-no! No, no not at all!” Tiao quickly stood up on his knees, putting his hat on and adjusting it with a forced smile and then getting to his feet, offering James a hand up. James accepted it dejectedly, brushing the dirt off of himself.
Bruuk seemed suspicious. “....Riiiiight, so- anyway, if you two are done fuckin’-”
“*Bruuk,*” Tiao growled in a warning tone. James resisted a laugh.
“-then Puli needs you two back at the inn. Or at least Tiao. James doesn't work here,” Bruuk said with a shrug.
James smiled. “It’s a good hangout.”
“Well- Bruuk is right. I’ve let Puli carry more weight than he should long enough.” Tiao looked at James. “Do you need help getting back in the boat again?”
“Damn, Tiao!” Bruuk cackled. “He can’t even walk now?”
“Shut *up,* Bruuk!”
James chuckled. “I’ll- uh- be fine,” he murmured, but leaned on Tiao as he climbed into the riverboat anyway. Tiao followed him and gave Bruuk a nod, the three rowing back to Binan.
Now, when Puli claimed to make it fancy in the inn for Saturday nights, he didn’t expect anything like what he saw when he walked in. Absolutely no lanterns, but there *were* colored lights that seemed to be of gnomish origin, highlighting the room in neon hues. From what he could see, the back counter was all stocked and ready for many more customers than James had seen walk in since he’d arrived here. The Pandaren sure knew how to party, he supposed.
“Saturday nights,” Tiao said with a grin. “My favorite.”
“‘Cause of the lights, or the customers?” James asked.
Tiao smirked at him. “Because I get the most tips on these nights.”
James laughed, and as the other three men began to organize themselves, James retreated back to his seat from yesterday and picked up his book again, smiling as Samwise curled at his feet. Truthfully, he paid no mind to his book. Instead he watched Tiao work, watching as his body wove about skillfully. They were right about the amount of customers--at a certain point, the inn was ridiculously packed. James had to squeeze himself through a good amount of people to bring Samwise upstairs so that nobody stepped on him, and then once he was in Tiao’s room, circled back downstairs to the bar and waited for Tiao to tend to him, which didn’t take long.
“Heyyyyy, welcome to the- oh, hey James!” Tiao greeted as he slid over. “Need somethin’?”
James grinned. “Surprise me.”
Tiao shrugged, an amused smirk on his face, as he reached for an indistinct bottle and began to pour. “How ya’ feelin’?”
“Oh, fine. Just figured I should sit here for a while,” James replied with a smile.
“Fine by me,” Tiao replied, sliding him his drink. “Lagrave stout. Tell me if you like it.” As a female Pandaren beckoned him over, he nodded to James and left, tending to her now. “Cotton, my lady! What can I get for you?”
James quietly sipped his drink as he watched the two interact. The Pandaren had gray and white spotted fur and pink highlights with a rosy gaze to match, and eyed Tiao up quite obviously. James gritted his teeth. At least the drink was good.
Tiao seemed to play into Cotton’s current interest in him, leaning in and cracking jokes with that charming smile of his and even commented that she looked good before returning to James.
James gave him a skeptical look. “Do you flirt with all your customers?”
Tiao looked around and leaned in real close, the breath on his ear almost making him forget Cotton’s presence entirely. “Only the ones that tip well,” he replied, and then pulled away and laughed.
James smiled, feeling a little relieved. “Yeah? How much do I have to pay you, then?” he dared.
Tiao’s face reddened but he didn’t freeze up this time. “I don’t know, how much tip you got?” he shot back even bolder.
James grinned ear to ear. “*As much as you need.*”
Before Tiao could respond, the female Pandaren waved at him again as if trying to call him over. “Uhm- excuse meeee!” she called obnoxiously. “I need a handsome man to refill my drink!”
As if on cue, Bruuk popped up instead, leaning against the counter and beaming at Cotton. “What can I get ya’, lass?”
Cotton eyed up Bruuk before smiling at him dreamily. “Oh, you’ll do~.”
James decided to look away from whatever-the-hell they had going on and return his attention to Tiao. “Drink’s good, by the way.”
“Yeah? Dried fruit and chocolate flavored,” Tiao replied. “Think you might like rich flavors.”
“Tiao-” James’s mind was elsewhere from his drink. “Could I ask you something?”
Tiao blinked at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“...Do you-.. remember that drink offer, at the astrology exhibit?” James asked. “...What if I took you out somewhere? Other than.. here. Tuesday maybe?”
Tiao stared at him, that distinct look of dumbfounded fluster taking over his expression again. “I-.. I would- I would love to, James, but Tuesday I have wor-”
“It just so happens that day’s opened up for you” Puli interjected, causing Tiao to turn to him. “It’ll be slow then. You can take a day off.”
They were interrupted once more. James’s watch lit up with a notification from Frost. The preview on it spoke of the Ebon Blade requesting his presence, and his icy heart dropped. It was over. His two days were up.
Tiao frowned at him as if he was able to read it, too. “...You have to go?”
James nodded. “Unfortunately.”
“I’ll meet you outside in five,” Tiao replied. “Wait for me before you go.”
James dipped his head in agreement and let Tiao get back to work for a moment, picking himself up off the seat and making his way out the back entrance of the inn. He’d pick up Samwise in the morning, since the pup couldn’t go into Acherus. He stood against the wooden outer wall, bouncing his foot as his knee crossed over the other waiting patiently for the monk. Tiao did not disappoint, for his bright crimson hat and his cheery demeanor showed up around the corner, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” Tiao said. “I- Puli confirmed he’s letting me take off Tuesday. I’d love to go somewhere with you.”
James smiled. “I’m glad. Any ideas?”
“I’ve already been thinking about it,” the monk admitted with a chuckle. “There’s a roller skating rink in Stormwind. I can pay for my own entry.”
“I don’t mind either way,” James replied. “You’ve.. been thinking about it?”
“Yeah, I-” Tiao turned and coughed into his hand, and James noticed a few petals falling from it as he wiped them away. “I’m sorry. I need to get back in there, we’re slammed.”
James frowned. “I.. need to get back to Acherus. I’ll pick up Sam in the morning, yeah?”
Tiao smiled. “Yeah. He’s a good cuddle buddy anyhow.”
“Well, uh.. I’ll let you.. get back to your work,” James muttered, gesturing to the door. “I’ll see you around.”
Tiao waved. It looked as if he had something left to say. James ached. He wanted him to say it so bad. James wanted to say it. But it caught in his throat. “Yeah.. I’ll- I’ll see you.”
Tiao disappeared behind the door. Just like that.
James stood outside on the back porch for a few minutes, staring blankly at the door listening to the bustle inside. He had to go now. He had to go back to Acherus and be separate from him. It shouldn’t affect him like this but it did. He felt so close.. He was almost there. He almost said something.
But he didn’t. He didn’t say it. He’d have to say it some other time.
He turned and opened a Death Gate back home.
I made a 20-page fic for two ocs of mine that has zero context with it but it’s gay and there’s a puppy. Should I post it here
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AU of the Archives finding out Jon is being held by the Circus (while he’s still being held captive there?)
anon, thank you for giving me an excuse to write something like this; i am always looking for 101 h/c lol. warning for discussions/depictions of the kidnapping scenario in 101.
1. They only really find out by accident. More specifically, they find out because Melanie is snooping around the Institute (already searching for solutions to her being trapped there), and finds the tape, somehow, the one where Nikola talks to Elias. She only needs to listen through once before they put the pieces together: Georgie told her Jon left. They haven't seen Jon since—and sure, he wasn't in much before, but—this long? And that is Jon's voice on the tape: muffled and panicked and indecipherable, but still pretty obviously him.
Melanie shows it to the others, and the tape isn't even finished before Martin is demanding they have to find him, they have to find him now, panic flashing visibly in his eyes—he's been gone for WEEKS, and why didn't I notice, why didn't any of YOU notice, and don't fucking try to argue with me, Tim, Jon has been KIDNAPPED and they're going to KILL HIM— And Tim looks hurt, at this insinuation, is snapping back before Martin can even finish, I wasn't going to ARGUE, Martin, Christ, and he hasn't told them about his brother yet, but he immediately went pale when he heard Nikola's voice, heard her going on about skinning Jon, and they all saw it, and Melanie and Basira are putting it together before Martin is: Tim's in, too.
Basira's the one who says We need to find him in the end, but Martin and Tim have already decided by then.
2. In the end, Elias is the one who tells them where Jon is. (After some persuasion.) He hadn't intended to originally, but obviously they already know, and obviously no one is going to be focused on finding the ritual site, and sloppy work won't benefit anyone, much less the whole world. (And if the rescue goes messy, and it ends up benefitting the whole of his plan, well—)
They take a car and ride up there, the four of them. (There's some brief argument as to whether or not they all should go, but Martin's obviously going, and Tim doesn't back down, and Basira insists she can get them in and out, and Melanie isn't saying no…) It's a long, tense car ride, hours of mostly silence broken up by panic on Martin's behalf. (He's still berating himself, even if he won't berate the others—how could they not have known, how could he not have noticed, how has Jon been held prisoner somewhere for weeks and Elias didn't goddamn tell them, and it's been so long, and what if it's too late, what if they're too late, what if he's already dead—) And then, eventually, Tim breaks the silence. By telling them what happened to his brother. (It's NOT a statement, he says, but it feels like one anyway, and no one speaks until he's done. He sounds choked up by the end, furious and fearful and grieving all at once—I didn't think they would come for—I-I didn't think Jon would…)
The images from Tim's story loom over well enough, along with the half-remembered sounds of the tape sent to Elias. We're going to use every piece of you. I thought you'd make a lovely frock. The imagery is grotesque and Martin is sick with it, leaning against the car window, hoping with a fierce desperation that they aren't too late.
3. They aren't too late. And they get in without being detected, somehow. (Afterwards, Basira will keep saying that it was too easy, the whole thing felt too easy, and Tim will say tiredly, "Who the fuck cares? We got out.")
Jon's woken up by someone whispering his name—quiet, with a gentle subtlety that the Stranger more than lacks. It's Martin—this becomes clear as soon as he opens his eyes, although it takes a moment for everything to slot into place, the reality of Martin leaning over him, eyes wide with concern. "Oh, Christ, you're all right," Martin says, his voice shaking. "Thank God. I-I thought…" He stops then, and goes to work on getting Jon free.
"Martin?" Jon hisses as soon as the gag is gone, and then—Tim, working at the ropes on his legs, Melanie and Basira towards the door. "What—wh-what are you doing here?"
"What are you talking about?" Melanie says, her voice as muted as the others. "We found you, that's what we're doing here."
"Y-you can't be here," says Jon, still stuck in the panic of the past few weeks. "They'll kill you, you can't be here…"
"We're already here," says Tim. "We're not leaving you behind."
Jon's eyes jerk between the four of them frantically before landing back on Martin—Martin, who looks like he's nearly on the verge of tears, who says, "We're getting you out of here, Jon," and helps him to his feet. Jon grips at his hand as he's pulled to his feet, the relief washing through him in waves—he hadn't realized until then how much he'd expected never to be rescued or found—how much he'd thought he would die here.
4. They get hotel rooms rather than driving back—it's a long drive, and Jon looks nearly dead on his feet, and it makes sense. Jon sleeps for nearly sixteen hours straight after a long-running shower, and the others mostly alternate between sleeping and watching for agents of the Circus. (No one ever comes.)
Melanie calls Georgie to let her know. Tim leaves Elias a nasty voicemail. Martin goes to get breakfast from a store nearby, and take-out tea, and when Jon wakes up, they eat clustered in the hotel room to mostly silence.
Jon says, at one point, I didn't think anyone would come. He says it mostly to the floor, when the others are out of the room, and it's just him and Martin drinking tea that isn't nearly as good as the homemade stuff. He clears his throat and adds, Thank you for… for coming, Martin, I…
Martin tenses beside him immediately in immediate horror, says, Of course we came; of course we came, Jon, I don't know why—I-I am so sorry, I'm SO sorry we didn't come sooner, we didn't know… We didn't know, I'm so sorry.
It doesn't matter, says Jon. It doesn't matter, just… thank you. Thank you for coming, I… i-if anything had happened to you, I wouldn't have…
They're leaning together, almost unconsciously, their arms pressed together, and Martin says, I'll always come. If… I-I hope this never happens again, Jon, b-but I… I'll always come.
Sitting in the dim-lit hotel room, Jon believes him. He knows immediately that he's telling the truth, and he says, I will, too, and he means it just as much.
5. The whole experience is a catalyst to everyone talking more, because how could it not be? There's a difference between someone saying they were kidnapped and actually hearing about it—actually seeing it. The drive back leaves plenty of time to make peace, or something like it.
Jon starts spending more time in the Archives, in the weeks before he has to leave again. He and Martin have lunch almost every day; sometimes the others join them. Melanie calls and tells Georgie what's happened, and Georgie immediately reaches out to make sure Jon is okay. And Jon and Tim make their peace, more or less, gradually—not all at once, but gradually. (Tim hugs Jon when they get back and says he's glad he's okay. Jon offers an apology a few days later, for everything they haven't had the chance to talk about, and the recorders come on, and neither of them mention it. And nearly a week later, Tim tells Jon about what happened to his brother.) And it's something, some step in the right direction, towards healing.
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A whumpee who thinks that they're not really ill unless they have a fever over 100 degrees.
They wake up one morning feeling very unwell, so they grab a thermometer to see if it's a fever. 98.9°F. Not enough to be a problem. Besides, they have so much work to do, they don't have time to feel under the weather, that's just an excuse for laziness.
Whumpee works in front of the computer for the next several hours, periodically checking the thermometer in hopes that the magic 100°F will show up and validate their symptoms. It doesn't. Whumpee sighs, grabs another energy drink, and gets back to work.
That evening, Caretaker comes home from errand-running. Whumpee hears them come in and goes to greet them, but as soon as they stand up they feel dizzy. They barely get halfway across the room before they collapse. They could swear they hear someone calling their name...
Whumpee wakes up in their bed to sunlight filtering in through the window, and the sounds of a busy Caretaker somewhere in the house. Whumpee, although still light-headed, tries to get out of bed and get back to their workload from this... evening? Morning? Afternoon? Ah, it doesn't matter, the point is the work is there, and it needs to be finished. Whumpee will rest when they actually get sick.
Caretaker walks in just as a semi-conscious whumpee is about to fall out of bed. Caretaker dives to catch them.
"Whumpee!" Caretaker cries, "what the heck are you doing!? You need to stay in bed- you're very sick, you shouldn't even have been up yesterday!"
"I'm not sick," Whumpee protests weakly, "I checked the thermometer, I don't have a fever."
"Whumpee," Caretaker sighs, "you don't have to have a fever to be sick- look at you! You look like a ghost trying to cosplay a zombie!"
"B-but I-", Whumpee starts, "my workload-"
"Can wait." Caretaker finishes. "I don't want to see you lift a finger until your face has gone back to a normal color. Now get back in this bed before I have to wrap you into a burrito!"
Caretaker walks Whumpee back to their bed. Whumpee snuggles into the covers reluctantly.
"Get some rest, okay? I'll be back with some soup and some medicine in a little bit"
Caretaker turns to go, pauses, then puts a hand to Whumpee's forehead.
"And for the record, Whumpee," Caretaker says, "you do have a fever. That thermometer was broken. But I don't want you thinking that means you're not sick just because you don't have one."
With that, Caretaker leaves to let Whumpee get some much-needed rest.
#whump#sickfic#hurt/comfort#fever#fever whump#feverish whumpee#overworked whumpee#loosely based on real events#stressed whumpee#stern caretaker#i did not take any time whatsoever to proofread this#I am also inexperienced#and have not taken an English class in months#whumptober#whumptober2021#i guess?
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floch forster | look at you (smut)
yeah i’m a floch simp... i don’t want to talk about it..
anyways enjoy brat tamer!floch or whatever he is in this because i’m on brainrot
edit: i’m sorry if this is bad, when i finished most of it i just wanted it to be over
warnings/notes: smut, cursing, brat tamer!floch, fem!reader, edging, overstimulation, spanking, clit spanking, choking, degradation, praise(if u squint), rough sex, aftercare(cus i love floch), porn without plot, face smacking, squirting, dumbification and spit kink.
ever since you’d woken up that morning, you were in a bad mood. whenever floch would try to hold you while watching a movie, you’d shove his arms away and he would only get to hold you if you forced his arms around you. you had barely spoken to him and whenever he said ‘i love you’ you just hummed in acknowledgment.
so, he decided to take you out to a club, begrudgingly, and invited mikasa, sasha, jean, and niccolo to come along. he assumes connie is tagging along since thing one and thing two never separate.
whenever you hung out with sasha, mikasa, and connie, your spirits seemed to lift. while he was happy, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong. he tried not to thinking about it too much as he talked with jean and niccolo sparingly.
he decided he’d let it slide, considering you were upset all day. but whenever he saw you speaking to a random man with a flirty look on your face, he decided that enough was enough.
which led you to now, hands pinned down behind your back as floch pulled your dress up over your ass and panties down and off your body.
“i’ve been nice all fuckin’ day, even when you were being a little bitch,” he growls as you try to kick him away while snickering, “and you decide to repay me by acting like a little whore. you better count without complaining and you might just get to cum tonight.”
you stuck your tongue out and turned to face floch, kicking your feet back and forth.
“who says i’m gonna let you,” you taunt and yelp at floch’s hand tangling with your hair and shoving your face into the mattress.
“me. i say. unless it’s not to count, an apology, or the safe-word, you don’t fucking speak,” he lets the hand on your head up.
he waits to see if you respond, but the only one he gets is a pout accompanied by a sharp glare. he keeps eye contact as he gives a harsh slap to your rear.
it has your hips jerking towards floch’s thighs and a sweet yelp falling out of your mouth as you croak out the number ‘one’.
by the time he’s at ten, you’re already tearing up and whining for him to stop. your whines have him spanking you harder than before, telling you that it isn’t the safe-word.
he doesn’t stop his spanking until he’s at the number 17, admiring the pretty crimson starting to form on your asscheek in the shape of a hand print. he lets go of the hands being held behind your back, using it to gently rub over your cheeks.
“crawl up and lay on your back,” he’s gently patting your thigh.
you don’t move, focused on wiping away the tears pouring out of your eyes.
you shake your head, sitting up and facing him on his lap, “don’t wanna, it’ll hurt my ass.”
“you should’ve thought about that before you were a slut,” floch grabs your neck with his right hand and your left thigh with his left hand.
he makes it seem easy whenever he lifts you up and throws you onto the bed. you whine as you watch floch unbutton his black shirt, trying to ignore the slight pain on your ass. he shimmies off of his jeans while you shimmy off your scrunched up dress.
floch straddles your hips, hand grabbing ahold of your neck and putting a small amount of pressure on it. you grab onto his wrist and he hisses as your nails dig into his skin.
“you wanna apologize,” he raises an eyebrow at your smug face.
you open your mouth, trying to catch some of your breath before you speak.
“no,” you give a breathy laugh and flutter your eyes to try and get rid of the tears.
whenever floch removes his hand, it gives you a chance to breathe—even if it’s pointless. because before you know it, floch’s hand slaps at your cheek and it has your head turning to the side. he grabs your jaw with the same hand and jerks your face back to look at him again.
“you sure?”
“yeah,” you’re smirking and manage to spit at him.
he flinches when it hits his nose and the sight makes you snicker, especially whenever he struggles to wipe it away with the back of his hand. but when he does get rid of it, you feel yourself getting the shivers at the neutral expression on his usually sneering face. floch isn’t exactly known for being understanding.
he squeezes your jaw harder, “open your mouth, right now.”
reluctantly, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, continuing to dig your nails into his wrist anxiously. he gathers his spit towards the inside of his lips and then spits into your mouth harshly. you whine at the feeling of it running down your tongue.
“close,” you keep your mouth open and tongue out.
“you want more,” he laughs, “you’re a dirty whore, wanting me to spit in your mouth like that.”
he spits in your mouth again, but this time it’s slower and—somehow—more seductive. you close your mouth and swallow, suddenly silent compared to before.
“you still don’t want to apologize”, he asks condescendingly and moves his hand away from your jaw.
you’re starting to feel yourself slipping in that small little headspace from all the harsh smacking and you know you won’t get what it is that you want if you keep up your bratty act. it’s going to be a miracle if he even gives you his cock.
“‘m sorry,” you mumble and try to rub your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“say it louder, don’t mumble your words.”
“i’m sorry floch.”
“you mean that?” lips starting to bite and suck at your neck.
“i do! i do,” you whine, now clawing at his biceps and shoulders when his lips trail down to your tits.
he’s groping at one tit and biting at the other, twisting your perky nipple between his nimble fingers. when he pulls away, he admires the teeth marks he’s made around your areola. and he reeks of arrogance when you whine even louder whenever he licks a stripe back over said marks. but then he leans up to give you a, surprisingly, sweet kiss on your lips that has you humming in satisfaction. you pout at him with a small huff as he pulls away. he scoffs and forces himself in between your rubbing thighs.
“look at you,” he’s laughing again as he holds open your bare folds with his fingers, “you’re soaking, you fuckin’ slut.”
you’re shaking your head at him while he lowers himself to your glistening pussy. as soon as he rubs his tongue across your clit, your fingers are grabbing at the sheets.
he slowly inserts a finger inside of you, opposite arm reaching across your hips to hold them down. your moans raise an octave when he adds a second finger with his first, curling his fingers swiftly.
“gonna... ‘m gonna cum,” you cry while your toes curl and arch your back.
and with that, floch pulls away from your pussy and laughs at your body flopping against the bed while you cry.
“you thought you were gonna get to come so easily? after flirting with some sleazy guy at the club? must’ve slapped you stupid earlier,” his hands rub at your thighs, watching your chest rise up and down.
before you can reply, he’s burying his face back in your pussy again; eating you out as if you were his last meal on death row. his fingers are inside of you again, thrusting in and out of you vigorously. your hips are bucking against the arm holding them down and your fingers are clawing at your sheets.
“pl—please,” you managed to moan out, “gonna cum!”
floch moves his fingers faster and you feel him smirk against your clit. your moans are getting higher and shorter as you start to tip over edge of euphoria. but before you can, floch’s pulling away and chuckling at how your legs start to shake and your whimpers. you moan out whenever floch smacks your clit with the tips of his fingers.
“you’re so dumb,” he scoffs, “you actually think you’re gonna get to cum after the way you’ve acted all day?”
you’re sobbing and whining at this point, now tugging at his hair. he slaps your hands away, going back to torturing your puffy clit with his tongue. you’re legs are trembling whenever he pulls away again.
“please... wanna.. come please,” your lip quivers when floch comes back up to your face.
“ ‘wan, wanna com,” floch mocks your face and voice.
it makes you sniffle and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. he kisses you.
“god, look at you,” floch groans against your lips, “begging like an obedient whore just to come around my fingers. you’re stupid if you think i’m gonna let you come around anything that isn’t my cock.”
he coos condescendingly, “you want that, needy girl?”
you nod frantically and squeeze your eyes close, tears going to run down your cheeks. floch pulls away and takes off the grey boxer briefs he’s got on. the tip of his cock is an angry red and dripping with precum.
he pumps his cock twice with his right hand before gripping it at the shaft and aligning it at your entrance. he slowly pushes it into you, snorting at your needy moans. he throws his head back with a groan as he bottoms out, and grips at the back of your thighs and pushing the front of them to your torso.
“floch! floch!” you sound like a broken record as you keen his name.
“you gonna come? just from me shoving my cock in you,” he patronizes, “haven’t even moved yet, and you’re already about to cream on my cock.”
he pulls out halfway and quickly thrusts back in and he can’t help but laugh for the umpteenth time at you throwing your head back while you flutter around him. he lets you put your legs around his waist and reaches up to put his hand on your neck and the other one holding up his weight by your head.
you’re crying out his name again when he starts thrusting in and out of you and applies pressure to your windpipe. it, quite literally, leaves you breathless and letting out broken moans.
he squeezes a little tighter for a bit, “do not fucking come.”
you plead and grab at his wrist, trying to ignore how floch’s cock drags against the sweet spongy spot inside of you, how his tip prods at your cervix, and how his hand squeezes against your throat. it leads you towards your orgasm; lower body convulsing against the mattress while your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a silent scream.
floch scoffs and takes his hand off of your neck, stilling his hips.
he smacks you, barking at you, “i thought i told you not to come.”
“ ‘m sorry,” you babble, “felt too good..! ‘m sorry.”
he smacks your face again, “it only felt good for you. you’re gonna lay here and let me use you until i come, understand?”
you shake your head whenever he starts thrusting into you again, “sensitive!”
he doesn’t stop thrusting even when he slaps you across the face again, “you’re the one who came without permission, you deal with the consequences. it’s what you get for being a whore anyways.”
with that, you’re coming again within a matter of minutes, mind completely blanking out from all the edging and sudden overstimulation. your eyes glaze over just as floch puts his hand against your neck once again.
floch starts rubbing a thumb on your clit with his other hand, slowly starting to near his orgasm. it has you squirting on his cock with a high pitched moan. he groans and throws his head back at your pussy gripping him like a vise.
“coming inside,” he warns and you just nod and squeeze him absentmindedly.
he comes, groans falling from his lips when his thrusting slows down to grinding while he rides out his orgasm.
he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally pulling his half hard cock out of you. his cups your cheek, gently facing you towards his face.
“you okay? you with me,” he asks softly and rubs his thumb on your cheekbone.
you respond with incoherent mumbles and fluttering eyes. he places a kiss on your cheek and scurries off into your shared bathroom. you hear the water turn on and the opening and closing of different cabinets. floch’s walking towards you with a warm, wet rag in his hand. he wipes away the cum that’s starting to drip out of you and onto the bedsheets, and the temperature sends shivers running down your spine.
he throws the rag into your bathroom—that had its door open—and gently picks you up bridal style. he carries you into the bathroom and carefully puts you into the running water. the pressure on your burn as you whining, especially whenever he slips in behind you.
“you with me now,” he pecks and massages your shoulders.
you hum in response as he lathers soap up in his hands. he washes you silently and cautiously, not wanting to inflict anymore pain unto you.
whenever he’s done washing you, he helps you stand on your wobbly feet. he dries off your hair and for some reason it has you smiling stupidly while ogling him. he gives a little smile when he catches your staring, covering your face in sweet little kisses. you start giggling and pucker your lips in a request of a kiss.
he kisses you continuously, hands gently holding your cheeks after he wraps the towel around your shoulders.
“look at you,” he gives you a kiss and it makes you feel light on your feet, “my beautiful girl.”
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk#aot fanfiction#aot floch#snk floch#floch forster#floch supremacy#floch x reader#snk smut#smut
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I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗
Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :)
Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver
Tags: @kawaiiblack
~~~~~
Lucifer:
The success of the program depends on your wellbeing
So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork
“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”
You always say no
At first, he’s glad you’re staying in
Because it means less trouble for him
But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here
He’s about to knock when he hears you sob
Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life
But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken
He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away
He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day
That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food
By then you were are least on top of your sheets
You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always
But this time, his words were different
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Help?”
He simply nods
And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew
“I...don’t know?”
“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”
Then he’s gone
The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed
So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?
He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you
The first night you both listen in comfortable silence
A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it
On night 10 you tell him about the breakup
Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”
He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile
That night you fall asleep before the record finishes
Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair
So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully
He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo
It’s for the program, this is his job
He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything
For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you
Mammon:
He didn’t want to be your babysitter
He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal
Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants
One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans
“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”
He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop
He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face
But the pain in your eyes…
He’s seen that look before
His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith
Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him
You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you
He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else
You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely
“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”
You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right
“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”
He’s shocked when you agree
He makes a point to hang out with you more often
He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human”
Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer
Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room
Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD
But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his
However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same
So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself
Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over
So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient
Leviathan:
He had been playing one of his games online
He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky
He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode
Then he loses the first round
He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was
So he rematches them
And loses again
And again
He loses 7 rounds in a row
By this point he is fuming
So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox
Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game
He gets a reply a few minutes later
“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”
You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms
Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later
“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’
You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it
Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know
You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone?
Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics
(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)
But you were actually pretty chill for a normie
Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!
You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you
He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes
He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?
He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon
But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item
You never once judged him and his unconventional ways
This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts
It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime
When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love
Levi has seen this anime before actually
He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad
So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life
Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing
Satan:
He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware
He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again
Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room
He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed
He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself
But then you curl up against him and burst into tears
He stands there, not quite sure what to do
He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while
You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak
He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that
“Would you like some tea?”
He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts
You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now
Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts
Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really
One time you both took a day trip to the human world
Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks
What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel
He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe
Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love
He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind
He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love
But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready
So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend
And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige
Asmodeus:
There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation
Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon
Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters
After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom
But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up
And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it
He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea
You tell him about the breakup
He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter
“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!”
He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default
He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit
He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better
“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”
You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories
Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products
Plus his company is nice
Self-care days become a common occurrence
Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers
He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does
He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice
A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails
He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction
He didn’t want to fuck you
Well he did but not just fuck you
He wouldn’t mind if there was something more
But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing
So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that
You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you
But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day
Beelzebub:
Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel
But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake
After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much
Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime
He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you
“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”
He actually doesn’t have a preference
He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them
He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating
“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”
You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has
He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount
Or you say you’re getting full
Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything
Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later
Soon after you tell him about the breakup
“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”
There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry
Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest
But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually
He felt good, he felt happy
It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild
But this wasn’t a change he minded too much
He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you
And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now
Belphegor:
He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay
He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did
Frankly, he was impressed
Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you
That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps
One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed
Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy
So he wakes you up
“You’re in my sleeping spot.”
You weren’t in his sleeping spot.
“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”
“You’re already here. We can both fit.”
Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep
Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep
What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams
He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about
He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face
You wake up soon after looking confused
“Good dream?”
“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”
Napping together in the living room becomes a routine
And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile
A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good
So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap
He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him
It’s probably Beel
“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”
His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him
“I just sorta ended up here.”
“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”
You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed
But he’s blushing
He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder
But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on
So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me fluff#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me levi x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beel x reader#obey me belphie x reader#annazonabeth
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for @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account look hannah they hold hands <3
She’s been standing still for two minutes.
Still, right beside the door, she has barely taken any steps inside the room. Barely made any sound. She has only closed the door behind her, and that with the faintest of sounds she could manage, because she can’t afford any louder torture in her ears. She can’t, and neither can he.
Strange, she thinks. She wants to laugh. Her presence had always been loud enough.
Yet she’s standing still, two minutes already since she entered the room and she hasn’t received a single glance. A flinch, of the ones that make her heart shatter in her chest, and she hates to think about the reason why. Not even a sign, something showing the acknowledgement of her standing there, forever waiting for something she doubts will ever come.
She never thought being ignored would evoke any emotion other than rage.
He’s staring out of the window. From the haunted look in his eyes, she suspects his view is entirely different than hers. There’s a sheet of paper laid on the table before him, and a pen, waiting, almost dusty from the neglect of what feels like centuries but it’s actually a few hours. If she looks closer, she will discern smudges on the paper, half-finished words that echo like screams, or like being interrupted by a scream. She wonders how many times his words died in his throat, to be replaced by hollow wails. His hands, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, knuckles turning white as they clench and grip, fingers trembling with pain, the same one that drips like poison from his stare, is enough of an answer. Too many times.
She takes a shuddering breath.
“Jaskier.”
He flinches. Of course. He hasn’t even noticed that she’s been waiting there. Or that the sun has set. Or that his fingers are close to ripping his shirt to shreds. Of course. He flinches, and turns around to look at her, and she wishes she could actually say he’s looking at her and not at a ghost, or a shadow, or a mocking figure belonging to the past. She chases his eyes with hers, feeling almost ashamed that she wants, no, needs to hold his gaze.
She will some day. But she fears that day won’t come soon at all.
Finally, his grip on the shirt relaxes, leaving it crumpled, and it’s terribly similar to the way she had found him lying there, moments before he was torn apart. Not so long ago.
He stares at her then, an old, familiar light in his eyes. Comforting. His lips twitch unpleasantly. “Oh, Yennefer.” His voice sounds distant. Less than it did. Still. More than it ever should. Yennefer has a feeling that’s what necromancers are used to hearing. She raises an eyebrow, as if in desperate self-defence, but the sudden shadow that covers his eyes as realization dawns on him almost makes her curse herself. “Have you been standing there for…” he swallows, a hint of apology in his tone, “long?”
She hates it. Hates how her chest aches. But this is no time to show it and she hopes it never will be. She shakes her head, her lips curving into something close to a smile. “It doesn’t matter.” Then, as though to ease the pain, as though she doesn’t know the answer, she nods at the forgotten sheet. “Did you write anything?”
Jaskier smiles in a way that almost reminds her of what had been. And oh, how she craves that time. “Care to be educated on versification, witch?” He raises an eyebrow, teasing. The bastard. “By me?”
Yennefer grimaces in return, as if completing a performance of mutual fakeness. “Don’t flatter yourself, bard. I’m only asking if the sheet I gave you is wasted. On the other hand,” she tilts her head, smug, “your useless smudges are less of a waste than your words.”
A huff, humourless. And then silence. She wishes it felt like a win. Only that, this time, Jaskier continues to stare at her and his eyes are screaming with something close to a plea, as though begging for a salvation that would never come.
She would be tired of saving him, if she could. The fact that she can’t makes her heart flutter in a way that makes her knees aching to give in.
Her eyes fly to a waiting lute case, patient beside the bed, and suddenly she craves to hear the sound of the lute strings again, in a melodic deceit from the present. They hadn’t been touched since she fixed them. Two weeks. Maybe three. She has lost count, and doubts Jaskier has cared to keep any record for a long time.
Still.
Slowly, she approaches the bed, and lifts the case from the floor. With the corner of her eye she glances at Jaskier standing up, probably to say he’s done something all day, or prove that he can. He can’t. She knows too well now.
The lute feels heavy in her hands, the weight of past melodies, and Jaskier is staring at her in confusion. Or hope. Or despair. She’s tired of guessing wrong. Only this feels right anymore.
“Here,” she says and gives him the lute, and it feels like giving away her heart. And he takes it.
His hands are trembling.
She remembers them. The hands. Bloody, and broken, fingers in the wrong place, shaking with pain and terror and every scream he had yet to utter, unable to, only whispering, Yennefer, my hands, please, they did, they broke, please, Yen, my hands, please, please, and laughing, and shaking, and clinging and laughing and she’d seen worse, far worse, but then again she hadn’t.
She remembers them, and remembers how they were before. And now, resting on the strings, they’re close, so close to what had been, and yet so far away. He stares at the lute, a foreign touch, and then raises his head to look at her, eyes wide in hopeful despair. “You think…” he clears his voice as though to hide the pain, “you think I can play?”
A deep breath. Yennefer lets herself smile, bittersweet. Somehow it feels right. “I think you should try.”
He does.
He sits on the bed, and strokes the strings, and his eyes well at the sound. Hers too. But she doesn’t admit it. She only sits beside him.
And then there’s a melody, one she doesn’t remember existing, and his voice is still rough and strained, but when he starts singing, something inside her settles. He’s looking at her.
They’re tender, the words. Speaking of a love found again, a sad story. Longing, and a dark-haired lady appearing through the darkness. Of a long-craved comfort. It feels familiar more than it sounds. No, it sounds like a song to be sung in great halls, to make the audiences weep and rise from their seats in applause, a promise to be heard throughout every cold winter breeze. But it feels like a hug.
And when suddenly the music stops, and Jaskier winces, Yennefer thinks it’s been too long since any of them had that comfort. So she places the lute aside and takes his hands in hers, just like then, only that now they’re not broken, but gentle and warm and, as he lets her hold them, and gazes at her, they’re grateful. She holds them, fingers softly working through the knots of freshly healed wounds, trying to cover up their memory with a caring touch. She holds them, and he’s looking at her, giving himself away freely, for once, and the ever present shadow seems to lift from his eyes, as though he’s staring at the sun after a long time.
And even when she’s finished mending, she still holds them. And meets his gaze. And there, fingers entwining and eyes locking together, it feels like puzzle pieces finally put into place.
#look at me feeding off the mere chance of crumbs#the witcher#yennskier#yennefer of vengerberg#jaskier#yennefer x jaskier#yenskier#chrysa writes#fic recs#hurt/comfort#<2k#i'd like to inform you that if they indeed break his hands i will lose it <3#also remember the yen song... yeah#past hand injury
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more titanic au?? 👀
Azula scrutinized Sokka with squinted eyes causing uneasiness flashed across his face. “For the record,” she jeered, “next time you want to stage an accidental falling, maybe keep your boots and jacket on.”
Sokka shot a panicked look at Zuko, who only shook his head. Sokka sputtered, “We…We were…”
“You don’t have to answer to her,” Zuko told Sokka apologetically.
“I don’t really care,” Azula snapped. “In fact, I think it’s sweet you made a friend.” Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t dare look at Sokka. “I’m just saying, you might want to get your story straight.” She winked at Zuko before turning on her heel. Zuko’s blush was furious and so quick it sickened him. For that, he was thankful Sokka stood behind him. “Are you coming?”
“Leave without me,” Zuko growled, and she cocked her head in his direction.
“What if you get lost on the way there, and there isn’t a third-class passenger to guide you back?” Azula’s voice was both sharp and cold, cutting and dull.
Zuko conjured his most menacing tone and said, “Azula, stop talking. Leave. Now.” Slowly, Azula’s head straightened, and she walked away without a word. Zuko watched her go, slightly impressed with himself.
When Zuko turned back to face Sokka, he was lacing up his boots. “I’m sorry about her,” Zuko apologized, and Sokka looked up from his shoes to grin at him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sokka said as he finished tying his laces. On went his jacket, and he turned toward the water while he adjusted it. His gaze remained on the ocean as he leaned his elbows against the railing. “I’d like to see you tomorrow,” Sokka announced, not a demand, but a wish. Zuko approached Sokka, though he maintained a good distance from the ledge.
“You will, at dinner,” Zuko replied, and noticed his own rapid blinking. Sokka shot him a playful look over his shoulder, then turned around and occupied the remaining space between them.
He stood an inch or two taller than Zuko, and his head bowed forward. Though Zuko’s head tilted upward, he was only brave enough to stare at Sokka’s lips, which were full and soft-looking and slightly parted.
“I meant besides dinner.” This was the closest they’d been face to face without the impending threat of treacherous death, and the air seemed harder to take in because of it. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Sokka added, and Zuko noted a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“No,” Zuko croaked, “I do.”
Sokka smiled. “Okay. Meet me here tomorrow, say, two o’clock?”
“Sure.”
“It’s a date.” Sokka’s voice was quiet, but it rang through Zuko’s ears and spiked his blood, churning it hot through his veins.
As Sokka turned to leave, Zuko found himself saying, “Sokka, wait,” with an outstretched hand. It suspended in the air with his index finger pointed at Sokka’s chest. Sokka’s eyes darted from Zuko’s hand to his eyes inquisitively. Zuko straightened his fingers to offer Sokka a handshake.
“Thank you for saving my life,” Zuko said formally with a stiff nod. Sokka laughed, and a few strands of hair fell around his temples. For an isolating moment, Zuko felt like an idiot, until Sokka’s hand closed around his. They shook hands with a firm grip, and it seemed to last longer than a usual handshake.
“Thank you for not jumping,” Sokka murmured, and stilled their hands, but didn’t pull away. The fingers on Sokka’s opposite hand caressed Zuko’s wrist, and Zuko tried to remember if he’d ever been touched so gently.
Eventually, Sokka stepped back, and their hold was broken. He slipped his hands into his pockets and eyed Zuko, then exhaled through his nose in a quick laugh.
“Is something funny?” Zuko asked reflexively, then cleared his throat at the sound of his raspy voice.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Do you always have to know all the answers?” Sokka teased, and Zuko crossed his arms. Sokka had no idea how few answers Zuko actually received, or how long ago he gave up the pursuit of seeking them.
Zuko couldn’t manage a response. He realized he was shivering; he must have left his coat on his chair at dinner. Sokka noticed, too, and questioned, “Are you cold?” He didn’t wait for Zuko to answer before taking his jacket off.
“No, I don’t need—” Zuko began to protest through chattering teeth, but was interrupted by Sokka draping his jacket across his trembling shoulders.
“You’re shaking,” Sokka dismissed quietly, practically affectionate. He pulled the opening of the jacket closer together in an attempt to insulate Zuko, then placed both hands over his crossed arms when they were exposed to the cold air despite the effort.
As Zuko watched carefully, Sokka unfolded his arms and brought Zuko’s clenched fists to his mouth. Sokka exhaled a heated breath onto Zuko’s hands, while his own drifted down to cup Zuko’s elbows. Their eyes met, honey and pale blue, and neither averted their gaze.
Zuko imagined breaking one hand free to caress Sokka’s cheek, and when Sokka’s lower lip just barely brushed against his finger, the fantasy morphed into one where they were kissing.
Zuko’s heart raced at the possibility of gliding his fingers along Sokka’s toned bare arms, the nape of his neck, the sharp angle of his jaw. Maybe Sokka’s hands would hold Zuko’s waist, draw him in, entice him to step closer. Sokka’s jacket might plummet to the deck floor if their hands were frantic, or stay perfectly in place if the embrace was slow and peaceful.
Though Zuko had little romantic experience, the image of kissing Sokka was easy, dangerously so, and the possibilities were endless.
“Zuko?” brought him back to reality, where Sokka’s hands had shifted. Sokka seemed to be holding him in place with a firm grip and one foot braced forward. Zuko blinked and noticed his fingers had fallen from their clenched position to grip Sokka’s forearms. He considered pulling away, but stayed still.
“I’m sorry. W-What happened?” Zuko’s face was smoldering, and he desperately wished to conceal it.
“You checked out for a second, then seemed like you were gonna fall,” Sokka explained, and though he sounded concerned, Zuko detected a smirk on his face.
“Oh,” Zuko mumbled, and looked away pointedly.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Sokka asked, the happy traces in his face replaced with worry. Zuko sighed, inwardly cursing his inability to play anything cool. “I mean, you just had a near death experience. Of course you’re not okay.”
“That wasn't my first near death experience,” Zuko replied before thinking better of it. His throat constricted when Sokka’s eyes flickered to his scar, but he found solace in the gentle squeeze Sokka gave his arms. Sokka looked down and nodded slowly. “I’m just clumsy, like Azula said,” Zuko added, gratefully getting him to crack a smile.
“I’d hesitate to take anything she says to heart,” Sokka laughed, and Zuko breathed a silent sigh of relief. Sokka stared at him for a moment with a twinkle of amusement still in his eyes, then said, “Maybe I should walk you back, though. You seem out of it.”
“You have no frame of reference,” Zuko retorted, and though his voice was agitated, Sokka took a small step forward, somehow still possible with their close proximity.
“Not yet.” His reply was an easy, clear indication that he intended to find out. Zuko focused on the dreaded task of evening his breath, but his mind inevitably wandered to their hold on one another and how it still had not ended.
“Not yet, but not tonight,” Zuko said eventually, as gently as he could. “My father will be expecting me soon.” Sokka nodded, and glanced at their arms pointedly, then back into Zuko’s eyes with raised eyebrows. “I can walk myself,” Zuko scoffed with an eye roll. He took the opportunity to remove Sokka’s jacket, but a firm hand halted his own.
“Keep it,” he insisted, and Zuko shook his head.
“I don’t need your jacket,” Zuko responded stubbornly, but drew the garment closer together in an attempt to disguise his shivering.
Sokka’s eyes glanced down, and somehow, the grin that spread across his face left Zuko wishing he could disappear and never leave Sokka’s sight all at once. “You contradict yourself a lot,” Sokka noted. Zuko decided disappearing would be better.
“And you’re infuriating,” Zuko muttered, his eyes on the deck.
“Is that any way to thank a kind stranger for his hospitality?” Sokka teased, and Zuko brushed past him with a hard jab of his elbow.
“Thanks,” Zuko said sarcastically.
He grinned to himself when Sokka yelped, “Ow!” followed by an airy laugh. When Zuko reached the gate, he glanced over his shoulder past the fabric of Sokka’s jacket to give him a smug smile. Sokka’s laugh faded into a closed-mouth dreamy grin complete with squinted, glistening eyes, and for that Zuko’s nerve was almost wasted.
“You’re not a stranger anymore,” Zuko said quietly, unfamiliar with the flirtatiousness of his voice. Sokka’s face fell, but with a focus that made Zuko wish he could read his mind. “Goodnight, Sokka,” he mumbled and turned away before Sokka could notice any further blushing.
“Goodnight, Zuko,” Sokka called after him. “See you tomorrow.” It was much quieter, and so light Zuko wondered if the wind had tricked him. Before leaving the gate, Zuko stole one more look to find Sokka splayed across a bench with his hands padding the back of his head. He looked up at the stars with a peaceful grin.
After watching Sokka longer than Zuko would have cared to admit, he finally left the deck. As he entered the interior of the ship, the warmth of whirlwind excitement began to fade. The farther he got from Sokka, the more he wanted to turn around, occupy the space next to him on the bench, and outstretch luxuriously with his palms resting under his head. How simple it would have been, to watch the stars.
To be free.
send me the title of a wip for an excerpt!
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