#if nothing else it looks fun from my little cynical armchair

[secretexperiment]

*

[katgreeves]

a case of the biggest cards (a tua holiday fic)

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait."

Or: The Hargreeves make the best of their royal fucking up of the timeline and spend Christmas Eve together at last.

heyyyyyyy @a-fucking-velociraptor it’s me your secret santa for @secret-santa-klaus!! wanted to do a little sibling bonding fic for you and then I went overboard LMAOOO I hope you like it anyways and happy holidays!!! I hope you’re having the best times this season!!

it’s also on ao3 to read for your reading pleasure!! (if you have an ao3 acc by all means lemme know so I can gift it to you on there!)

Fine hands move quickly to practiced motions. Long, nimble fingers sent cards flying as they shuffled around in the deck.

The five of them were all sitting on the floor, wrapped around a worn coffee table and leaning against the sofa and armchairs around them. Assorted pillows strewn about to comfort them, they were slowly going through the 3 bottles of whatever shitty drink they had trusted Diego with getting for the night. One of them was already empty.

Since the whole Dooms-didn’t/Apoca-nope-lypse/The Sparrow Academy timeline fuckery to the highest of degrees, they were all pretty much left in the dust. After a not so great first encounter with the “Sparrows” (none of them had even begun to comprehend the big emo looking elephant in the room, let alone address it to each other) they were promptly kicked our of the Hargreeves mansion. It took a while after that, but eventually they found a flat somewhere in the city for cheap to hide out in. The place wasn’t really cozy, totally not big enough for all of them together, but it was a roof over their heads to keep them safe enough till they could figure how to bring back their own timeline and finally have this behind them once and for all.

If that even existed anymore.

Klaus leered tiredly at the movements. Had it been himself dealing with the deck, he’s sure it would not be nearly as graceful, instead the cards would probably move clumsily with his fidgety hands and scrawny fingers, spewing all over the place. Then again, it might just be the signature “Rumor Charm.” Alli made everything look elegant, it was one of her best skills, one she gained with no powers, no rumors, that she did without even trying. It was just her.

“Allison. Darling sister of mine. While this in no means to rush you at all, I just want you to know that I’ve murdered entire Commision boards in shorter amounts of time that you’re taking right now.”

That, the source of the uncannily on cue quip, was Five. The grouch wasn’t letting up his smartass act up for one bit, even for the goddamn holidays. How predictable.

“First, you’ve only killed one commision board. Second, this is a Christmas Eve party, aka fun night party, aka we are not having discussions of our more colorful histories for one night party, please-”  

“Can we actually start the game? I hear Santa hates it when he's’ trying to do his job and sneak like a ninja or whatever only to see six idiots in a small dingy, dark as shit living room bickering over cards and oh wait- they've been at this since when?”

All eyes focused on whom that voice belonged to, which was Diego. While he was working at defrosting himself of his bitter and snarky facade, it didn’t really help that he was both tired and annoyed as shit at the wait right now.

“Quite a bold accusation that Santa wants to see any of us after all the shit we’ve pulled Di.”

“Even if he did, does he even know how to find us now? You know, technically not existing anymore and all-”

“What did Allison just say guys-”

“Hey Vanny, we’re just-”

“Okay, I think it’s time we get this show on the road shall we?” Allison pointedly interrupted with, brandishing the now shuffled deck of cards to veer the group to their original intentions (She does that a lot nowadays).

“Thank goodness. At the rate that we’re going it’s only a matter of time before we become itty bitty old grannies sitting on porches in rocking chairs.” Vanya crooned, scrunching up her face at the end to emphasize her point.

“Five’s essentially a grandparent already Vanya-”

“Well, he’ll just become a jurassic fossil I gue-”

PWACK

“Five!”

“That-” he gestured to the pen in Vanya’s hand he has just whacked her in the face with (Klaus had admittedly, bursted out a sharp spark of laughter at the sight) “is what happens when you are the only one I tolerate slightly more than average and you use this weakness to lead me to a complete and utter betrayal.”

“Betrayal?”

“You know, we actually promised Luther we’d let him bake in peace this time.”

Indeed, as Allison had oh so clearly reminded them, while the others were engaging in whatever was going on right now, Luther was trying baking some red velvet muffins (“No, don’t look at me like that, this is a totally normal amount of food coloring to put in the batter. They have to be the brightest red guys! Come on, it’s Christmas!”) in the kitchen close by. He was in there a lot nowadays, essentially becoming their new Grace in terms of their meals. He claimed it was a cathartic process for him, and in return they all just enjoyed the free meals.

“Jokes on Luther if he’s dumb enough to actually belive that.”

The last comment earned an eruption of laughs all around the table, a scandalized “Vanny!” here and there. Such was expected from their Vanya, the now youngest of the group (and isn’t that wild? Their entire lives were dictated by nothing else but the fact they were quite the peculiar, unlucky septulets and time travel and fucking Dallas took even that away from them). A complete contrast from the Vanya that was so long ago, sarcasm and laughter were her now weapons of choice as she’d talk and tease non stop about anything with a grin. Honestly, good for her.

With cards now flying across the table, it was time for the real shit. The game was one that Klaus had actually taught them. It was one of the many “souvenirs” that he had brought back from Vietnam. He had learnt it, along with the rest of his squadron from one Private Darren Teow. “T” for short, although the boys called him “Croc” after an embarrassing incident where he was the main star of a disaster march across a riverbank (oh boy was that a wild day).  

His parents had come to the United States back in the early 40’s for a chance of something new, and for their son, a chance of something better, a life of his own that could be so grand.

“And what a real great life this is, isn’t it?” He had said one night, a one in a kind night where the jungles were silent of the noises that shook them all for once and instead was filled with the laughter and cheering of the squadron as days old beer was being passed around like candy. Raising his can in the air, the bitter cynicism in his voice rang clear. “Trying to save my head from blowing up to bits everyday on the floor these fucking jungles. A goddamn blast if I’ve ever seen one. Three cheers for the Land of the Fucking Free-”

It wasn’t played as much as a usual game of poker, but whenever there was a fleeting moment here and there, or nobody had any cigs left to bet after Katz snatched them all (Rule Number 15 of the 173rd: Do not let that All-American face and charm fool you. That man will have your rations in his godly chiseled arms and the palms of his hands before you can even put down a card).

Sometimes, when he and Dave were cooped up in some motel room in Saigon during leave, trying to avoid another Sky Soldier who would try and drag them along for a night on the town,  they’d decide to play it together, just the two of them. And by that it meant Dave would offer to play a round of poker, and Klaus would beg to play this instead for a “fun change of pace, you know?”

“You mean, when you don’t want to eat utter shit at the hands of your awfully gifted beloved and can’t face the fact that you can’t keep a straight face for shit?”

“Be thankful you have a god gifted jawline from Adonis himself, or else I would have busted out of this motel aeons ago.”

“What can I say if I learnt it from the best?”

“Fuck you Kitty Katz.”

“I love you too, starlight.”

“That’s it, you are disqualified for hitting me with that sappy shit. I love you too.”

He smiled, chuckling softly at the memory as his hands reached for the familiar chain of cold steel around his neck, the motion second nature at this point. God, Klaus missed that dork so much.

Teow had called the game Big Two. At the very core of it, spades’ the best, then hearts, then clubs, and last and very least: diamonds. The bigger the better. Except for two. That little fucker gets you far. Put down as many as you can at rapidfire speed. First one to finish their cards in hand is winner winner chicken dinner!

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait.

He wishes Ben were here. God knows how much that little shit would be enjoying this right now.

The cards were swiftly dealt. He inspected his hand, as the others were talking about theirs. On top were the first two cards, two threes.

The game carried on as a normal one, duets of cards spilling on the table. And then, a lull as yet again his siblings had started another feud. This time, Diego was convinced Five was cheating somehow. Hell, knowing the little menace, he probably was.

Klaus must have dozed off somewhere, because it was only when a hand slammed into his shoulder that his head whipped back to the table, about to mutter a quick apology to what he expected were a circle of tired faces. Instead, he saw a cacophony of grim expressions. Something was going awry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Klaus-”

“You know, the last time I checked, I was the Seance around here-”

“Klaus-”

Klaus mocked a gasp, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as he feigned a look of shock on his face. “No! Don’t tell me you all are putting a Lila on me-”

“Five’s on his last card!” they all exclaimed, exasperated by Klaus’ usual antics.

Oh. Well, that's where the problem quickly emerged. Shit.

“Put something! Anything! Don’t let him win!” Allison shrieked.

“How can she? He’s got some damn strong cards there!” Diego added.

They had to be pulling his leg. Already? Things had just started getting good around here. Or you know, Klaus assumes it was before he was lost in wherever the fuck his mind went. But alas, a hesitant glance at the table and indeed, on the stack of cards, were two aces. Goddamn aces. Scouring through his hand, a sigh came over the medium. Those were some goddamn miracle cards.

Again, if only Benjamin was here. Sure, after their last poker fiasco, the little shit would probably decide to just screw him over again cause he had such a fun ride the last time around. But still, it was at least better than nothi-

Wait. Eyes perked up as Klaus saw a lifeline of a card in his hand.

Aces may have been big.

But they weren’t the biggest.

And with that a couple of two’s were places on the table, and Klaus, with a calm, low tone uttered-

“Last card.”

An array of sounds could be heard. Gasps, exasperated groans and sighs echoed across the table as cards were chucked in the middle in a show of surrender. Five glared daggers, as one would at the person who caused their defeat. It didn’t really matter to the medium anymore because-

“Victory is mine, bitches.”

A scoff, then an eyeroll before Five uttered “Beginner’s luck.”

“I’m the one who told you how to play you little shit.”

“Well, then it’s just a stroke of luck then. The game’s all chance anyways.”

“You goddamn pri-”

“Could it kill you all to be a bit quieter?” Luther asks, cutting the action as he finally stepped into the room.

“Lutherino!”

“Big guy finally decided to show up huh?”

“My apologies Razor Boy, didn’t want to give you guys burnt shit now, didn’t I?” he says, placing a pile of whatever he had made on the table, which was met with an applause all around. Oh damn they looked good.

“You guys only love me for cooking, don’t you?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it-”

“Five!” With a whack on his shoulder, Allison chided the former assassin while scooting a bit into Diego, patting the empty space she’d just created for Luther to plop into.

“Think you could come in with a cute little apron, you know, really sell into the chef role you’ve set for yourself here? One with an abundance of frills, preferably.”

“No, absolutely not Klaus. Now pass me the goddamn cards to shuffle before you guys start some shit again.”

“Wow, our Numero Uno now joins in on the gambling fun? Whatever happened to our ever so righteous bro bro?

“Klaus, I worked with Jack Ruby for a year. You don’t wanna know half the things I’ve witnessed.”

And that was it. That was their breaking point. It wasn’t long before the whole room erupted into laughter and wow this is so good.

It isn’t perfect. They all struggled to fit, it was way too chilly for comfort even under assorted layers of tight knit sweaters. Their hearts still panged for what they had already lost and what they were afraid they could still lose.

But, they were all together, and they haven’t been able to say that for so long. So, they could set all those worries and lingering annoyances aside for a bit to just be. Right here, right now, enjoying the warmth and joy of each other’s presence in a way they never thought they’d be so lucky to feel.

Later that night, Klaus resolves that if ever found Teow again, he’d have to thank him.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

back at it again for day 3 of cassandra appreciation week!! listen to ‘father and son’ by cat stevens while reading this for maximum tears.

CASSANDRA APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 3 - UNDERRATED

Last night she dreamt that she was appointed captain of the guard.

It was after a daring fight, and Cassandra is sure that it was a strange, psychedelic concoction of every fight she's ever been in. Zhan Tiri was definitely there in all her power-wielding glory, but so was a glowing Hector, a desperate Varian – even her father, throwing punches behind a mask. Yet it was him who patted her shoulder at the end of it all and said, voice gruff but brimming with pride, “You've left me with no choice this time, kiddo.”

The dread that filled her for a stomach-churning moment was enough to send her falling into a never-ending void, hurtling downwards, downwards, until he squeezed her shoulder and added, “Congratulations, Captain.”

Then she was soaring. She reckons she soared so far, so fast that she hit the ceiling of her dreams and smashed right through the walls of reality itself, until she slammed into the hard wood and was awoken with a sharp pain in her back and the air gone from her lungs.

That was ten minutes ago. She's finally come to accept that reality has never been so kind to her, and of course her cynical brain can't let her have nice things even in her dreams – so in the end, Cass is left with no other choice but to pick herself up and move on.

It's barely light out, but the bed opposite hers is empty, so she dresses in the dark and tugs on her boots. The green still feels a little foreign to her. It's like she's shed her skin, tossing away the red of her father's old tunic and the black-turned-grey rubble of her rock armour. Green is a clean slate. Green is a future where things are different.

Making sure her lady's favour is securely tied around her arm and her sword in its sheath, Cass unlatches the cabin door and steps out into the night as it ebbs closer to dawn. A cool breeze rushes through her hair immediately, sweeping it back and sending a shiver running through her. Above, as the dark sky smears into a lighter blue tinged at the edges with yellows and pinks, birds scatter, chattering to each other in their own tongues. As fun as she recalls it was to fly, Cass reckons she prefers her feet planted on solid ground.

Then she spots him.

Her father is sat out on the lake's edge, pants rolled up to the knees and shins planted in the water. He's smoking a pipe, something he only does when something is weighing on his mind, and she can only speculate whether its the early retirement or the fragility of their relationship that has him falling back on a vice that he always swears up and down that he's put behind him.

“Couldn't sleep?” she asks, picking through the brush to get to him. He exhales, smoke filling the air around him, fanning out until it fades into the dim light. He glances back at her, just for a second, before turning his attention back to the stillness of the water before them. It stings, it really stings, that after all they've been through there are still moments like this where he can't bear to face her.

“I – no, actually. I suppose just because I've stepped down from my post doesn't mean that my body will forget twenty-six years' worth of early morning drills.”

“Ah, but you're missing the point of retirement, aren't you?” Cass continues, forcing herself to keep her tone light, for her words not to shake, as she sits beside him. She hugs her knees, not quite ready yet to sink her legs into the freezing mountain water. “Besides, I know there's more to it than force of habit, Dad. You're smoking, for starters.”

“Don't you think about starting,” he says automatically, in protective father mode even while distracted as he is. Her father takes another drag and the smoke that funnels from his lips is chased away by the deep sigh that follows. “It's a dreadful habit.”

“I won't,” she says hollowly, and for a moment it's like Cass is watching every conversation she's ever had with her father play out simultaneously. How many times has this exact monotone scenario been run over the years? She remembers it word for word. They're like water, being carried from one state of matter to the next over and over again in a taciturn loop. But unlike all the other times, where she's been sat at his feet polishing her armour while he smokes in his armchair, both weary from a long day where things have gone wrong, they're somewhere new.

The change will surely make this run of the scenario stick out in her head for years to come, Cass decides.

“It's a beautiful place, isn't it?” her father murmurs. He leans a little, so their shoulders are pressed against each other, and it's something so small, yet something she's missed so terribly. “Like nothing can reach us here.”

“It's peaceful,” Cass agrees. “Have we come here before?”

“Once. The summer that I officially adopted you,” he muses, a small smile growing at the memory. “You were too young to actually fish, but something compelled me to show you this place anyway. I spent my childhood on this lake – even ice fished in the winter – so it only felt right, now that I had a daughter to share that joy with.”

“I remember the water. It was pretty, but I refused to learn how to swim because the summer before was when I... I got caught by that wave and swept out to sea.”

Even now, after so much time has passed, even bringing it up to her father fills her with a sense of dread. He's quiet, occasionally taking another drag from the pipe.

“...I was thinking about that a few months back,” he says eventually. After all this, her father still won't look at her. “After our... altercation at the ruins.”

Oh, fuck. “Dad-” Cass begins, a single, strangled word before he cuts her off.

“I thought about the – the way I handled you. For your whole life. And it – it was wrong. I did it wrong, Cassandra.” And he finally looks at her, looks her right in the eye. His own hold so much pent up grief that it starts to feel painful to hold that gaze, so she breaks away first.

God, she doesn't want to deal with this. It's too early, it's barely even daylight, and it's too soon in the day to have a conversation this emotional.

“I didn't know how to approach you. I didn't even know how to ask you about what you'd been through before I found you, you were so little – so you buried the memories, and I... I thought it would be easier for you if you just forgot. But, I wonder if it was just easier for me if you didn't know.”

Cass unfurls her legs and tugs off her boots.

“The time I almost lost you was the same. I was supposed to always protect you. I promised you that, but I see now that my – my responses when you shock me or scare me – they aren't what a father's should be. Anger, a stern tone, like you're some soldier who's let me down... it's no way to treat a child. You didn't know any better.”

Cass removes her socks and rolls up her leggings.

“So, Cassandra, you see, I – hmm.” He clears his throat, looking a little pained. “I want to try again. I want to do right by you this time. Because you matter more to me than-”

“Oh, Christ!”

“-anything... else.”

She chose the wrong moment to plunge her feet into the water below.

Silence falls over them, and Cass can feel he's clammed up beside her. Her outburst was far from the answer he'd been expecting, clearly – and how can she fault him for that? Idiot.

Awkwardly, she leans against his arm, resting her head just below the top of his shoulder.

“Sorry. I... I don't know what to say. I never really know what to say to you, Dad.”

He stares out at the light on the lake pensively.

“I wish we could have talked about this sooner, though,” she continues, hands clasping together as she searches her tongue for the right words to say next. “...You know, I had a dream last night. You promoted me to captain of the guard.”

“You've never formally been on the guard, I couldn't just promote you to captain out of the blue,” he says distantly.

“Right. My subconscious forgot to cross-check with Corona Law.” Cass huffs out a mirthless laugh. “It feels absurd now, that I could ever be on the guard while you were calling the shots, but I used to dream like that all the time. So eager to prove myself worthy of the position.”

“You weren't ready,” he insists, but his resolve is fragmented at this point.

“I was. You really still believe that?”

At this point, Cass firmly believes that it's the biting cold of the water forcing these words to the surface, squeezing them out along with the air from her lungs. Candid conversations with her father about their turbulent relationship are about as common as solar eclipses. Speaking the truth runs the risk of him growing cold to her, and that would make this fishing trip – the final stop before her big step out into the world, her own woman at last – unbearably tragic.

“...I don't know why I did it,” he admits, so quiet she barely hears at first, over the excited chirping of the birds in the trees surrounding, as golden sunlight hits the water at last. “Any answer I give won't satisfy you, I know.”

Cass swallows and nods, staring at how broken her toes look under the water's surface. They quiver and churn and don't look quite real.

“But you should know,” exclaims her father, compelled to justify himself, “upon your return, I... I was going to offer you the chance to try out for the guard. I almost wrote a letter at the time, but I didn't even know where to send it.”

Maybe that's the most heartbreaking thing she's heard, that maybe if she had just waited – but damn, she's never fucking waiting for something like this, not ever again. It pangs like a stab wound, or broken ribs, but one day it won't matter. She hopes.

“What's done is done,” Cass sighs. She shuts her eyes, lets the warmth of the sunlight wash over her. “I hope you'll write me on the road this time, at least.”

“Of course. I hope you'll write me too.”

“You know, I would have made the finest damn soldier on your guard. Corona couldn't have been in better hands. Could that be the real reason you retired?”

The snipe is weak, even childish, and Cass almost expects him to scowl or to give some gruff response like, “No need for the cheek, Cassandra”. (Or worse, a choked response about bad parenting that will only lead to more awkwardness.)

To her pleasant surprise, his face turns to meet hers and his lips pull into a smirk.

“Well, I certainly couldn't go on knowing I had compromised Corona's safety. Neglecting to appoint a guard due to personal feelings goes against everything a good captain does, after all.”

He reaches an arm around, pulling her into a side hug, and she feels... light.

Nothing is perfect. There's still so much to work through, she knows that, but... they're both tired, and her feet are growing numb. Enough is enough for now.

So with a tilt of her head, Cass pipes up, “So. Is it too early to catch our next meal?”

[myriadimagines]

Hi! can I have a #48 drabble with a Gotham boy please :) I'm short, aussie, blue eyes brown hair with an arsenal of leather jackets. I love movies (mostly action/horror), being spontaneous, writing and horror make up. I have a cynical and sassy attitude and will cross the world for a friend in need. Hate photos and would rather live in the moment and I live off music (rock and sombre mostly). I want to travel and work in entertainment one day, live large. I ship you with Barry from DCEU!

Characters: Reader x Jerome ValeskaWarnings: Mentions of deathPrompts: “Nothing, including you, is going to stop me.”Word Count: 450A/N: Ohhh I loved Barry in Justice League, so thank you so much!!! I hope this drabble made sense jsdhjakshdad

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

You had known Jerome from back in the circus days. You weren’t an acrobat or a clown, but you helped everyone with their costumes and makeup. You and Jerome were rather close, often hanging out with each other whilst everyone else was performing. However, despite how much you thought you knew Jerome, nothing could prepare you for when you found out he had killed his mother. 

You visited him in Arkham many times after he had been sent away, trying to understand the person he had changed into. He had always shown you such a different side to him, the sweet, anxious boy who kept to himself. But this new Jerome? This new Jerome was full of danger and mania.

When you had heard Jerome and some others had been broken out of Arkham, you knew it’d only be a matter of time before he appeared to you. Despite the recent events, you knew he had developed a soft spot for you, being one of the few people who was still sympathetic towards him.

And sure enough, when you returned home to your tiny apartment one night, you flicked on the lights to see Jerome sitting in you armchair.

“y/n, y/n, y/n,” Jerome chuckled, waving his arms dramatically. “Come and give me a hug.”

You dropped your bag on the floor, refusing to move. Jerome’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “Aren’t you happy to see me out of Arkham?”

“You broke out, Jerome.” you reminded him, and he scoffed, turning away as you walked after him. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see ya.” Jerome chuckled. “Before my next job.”

“Job?” you asked, confusing washing over your face. “What job?”

“You say the Maniax on the news, right?” Jerome tilted his head. “Well, we’re gonna blow somethin’ up tomorrow. Still haven’t decided what, but we’ll get to that later.”

“Jerome, stop.” you grabbed his arm, and he exaggerated a frown as you gave him a little shake. “This isn’t you. You have to stop killing people.”

Suddenly grabbing your face, Jerome replied, “But it’s so much fun! You should try it sometime – why don’t you come along with us?”

You wriggled out of Jerome’s grasp, shaking your head as him as you backed away. “Please don’t do this.”

Jerome’s expression suddenly became serious as he started advancing towards you. “This is who I am, y/n, and nothing, including you, is going to stop me.”

You gulped, suddenly fearing that Jerome had turned against you. You didn’t respond, before finally, Jerome patted your cheek and said, “Well, see you around, kid. Keep a look out for me on the news!” 

[fire-bear]

Number 1 with UsUk?

I just want to apologise in advance. For some reason, I didn’t notice the ‘company’ part of the prompt until I was about to start writing this and then suffered some sort of mental block? I honestly think this thing is kinda... horrible but I hope it’s okay?

I’d have liked to have set it in high school... Maybe I’ll write you a version of that next year. ^.^

KeepYour Enemies Close

Arthur hated calling the IT Department.

Their publishing company was small and so there wereonly two IT guys. They did their jobs well and, by all accounts,Arthur should get on well with them, particularly since, due tobudget restraints, he had an older model of computer. It was slow andoften developed bugs of some sort. Gilbert would turn up quickly fora good gossip, cup of tea, biscuits and to actually fix the computer.

It was Alfred which made Arthur hate picking up thephone to call down for some help.

Alfred had been a part of the company before Arthur hadbeen recruited. As a prank for the new guy, something to 'welcome'them, Alfred had thought it would be funny to programme his computerto shut down within half an hour of him working. With unsavedprogress and half-written e-mails, Arthur had been panicked, sure hewas going to be fired. When Alfred had appeared to help him andlaughed at his consternation, Arthur had been furious. Theirresulting argument had gone down in history – along with everyensuing one.

Thankfully, that was the only ugly mark on Arthur'sfledgling career as a publisher.

At least, it was the only thing he disliked untilseveral months later when Christmas arrived and he found out aboutone of the peculiar traditions of the company he had joined. It wasone of the few times he wondered whether quitting would retain hissanity...

"Right, everyone," said ElizavetaHérdéváry, hands on her hips. The publishers and assistants andcleaners and that damned IT department stopped their murmurs andturned their attention to their boss. Arthur pointedly ignored Alfredas much as he could despite sensing his stares and mockingsniggering. "Alfred!" Elizaveta cried, finally getting himto shut up. "Do I need to gag you?"

"Oh, that would be interesting," Francispiped up.

Arthur slid his gaze towards him, frowning. "Ican't quite tell what you mean by that," he muttered to hiscolleague. Francis only smirked back at him.

"Now that you're all quite finished..."Elizaveta said, voice strained as she spoke through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, Liz," echoed around the room as thechatter finally stopped.

"Right," she said again. "As you allknow Christmas is coming up. And I knowyou're all working hard so we can release some of our amazingromances on the world. So, as we do every year, we're going toorganise a Christmas party."

Murmurs broke out. Feliciano seemed rather excited,chattering into Ludwig's ear. Mei was grinning at Kiku and tugging athis arm in an attempt to get him as riled up as she was. Francis wasalready musing upon what sort of food he should make for the event.And, over it all, Alfred's harsh, annoying voice rolled overeverything, though Arthur couldn't make out his words.

Arthur himself wasn't particularly bothered by it.Christmas had never been an especially good time of the year for himand the last time he'd felt perfectly content and filled withChristmas cheer had been when he still believed in Santa Claus. Allthe magic had gone from the affair and, in its absence, cynicism hadsettled. He'd efficiently bought all his Christmas presents alreadyand had nothing to do: he was absolutely fed up with the holidayalready and they were only in November.

It looked as though he was going to have to summon someenthusiasm, though. A party would be fun, if he ignored the'Christmas' part.

Elizaveta waited till the noise had died down beforespeaking again. "Since it's a large undertaking, I'm going topick two names from a hat in order to decide which two people aregoing to be organising it for us. No protests or arguments," sheadded with a stern finger. She picked up her pink, woollen hat, theone with the large flower pinned to it, which Arthur had seen herbring in and wondered about. "So, the first person to be doingthis is..." Deftly, she plucked out a folded piece of paper.Using finger and thumb, she slid the paper open and raised aneyebrow. "Alfred."

"Oh, all right!" Alfred yelled from the backof the room. "This is gonna be the biggest, bestest, mostawesomest Christmas party in the history of Christmas parties!"

"I doubt that," Arthur muttered to Francis.His friend – to use the term loosely – rolled his eyes at hisantagonism and sighed.

"Really, darling, you need to get over thisstrange hatred you have of him," he said. "It's not goodfor you."

"And," said Elizaveta over the top of themall, brow furrowed as she glared at those who were speaking, "thenext person is..." She pulled another name from the hat, set thehat down, unfolded it – and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. Arthurfelt a shiver go down his spine and felt sorry for whoever was aboutto be landed the job- "Ah, that person is Arthur."

Everyone went silent. Not a word was said. Breaths wereheld. Nobody moved. Arthur stared at Elizaveta. Then, heart hammeringin his chest, he whipped his head around to stare, wide-eyed, at anequally shocked Alfred. They stayed like that for a few secondsbefore Alfred's expression began to change, his face falling, browfurrowing. Arthur looked back to Elizaveta and gave her a pleadinglook.

"Liz..."

"Nope!" she said, cheerfully. "You twoare doing this. Maybe, this way, you can stop your silly feud. Now,I've not got much else to discuss for this meeting. Just a littlenote about..."

Arthur tuned her out, his heart sinking as he wonderedhow on Earth he was going to be able to organise something for hiscolleagues when he had to work with his worst enemy. Turning his headslightly, he caught Alfred glaring at him. He glared right back andknew, deep in his core, that the next few weeks were going to beawful.

After the meeting, with Alfred distracted by hisfellow IT guy, Arthur managed to scurry away back to his office. Oncethere and the door was closed behind him, he relaxed significantly.He liked it in here, with the various manuscripts and first editionsof books he'd help publish or ones he just liked having on hand orprevious ones in a series so he could reference them. His desk wassurrounded by filing cabinets that he kept meticulously organised aswell as the files on his computer, one which had the largest memoryof any computer he had ever worked on, despite its slow processing.Apart from the monitor and the keyboard on the little drawer beneathit, his desk consisted of a lot of pens, a tray for organising hispost and several piles of documents. At the moment, since Elizavetahad interrupted his morning work for her meeting, it was in a stateof organised chaos.

Settling in his rolling chair, he sighed and let hisshoulders droop, tugging at his shirt collar. He felt a little onedge from the added workload from the party, despite not havingstarted doing anything yet. However, he hoped that he could calmhimself down by doing the sort of work he actually enjoyed. Planningfor the party could begin after work and, he decided, it would bebest if he came up with ideas and handed them over to Alfred for himto deal with instead of having actual, physical meetings.

Drawing a manuscript towards him, Arthur had barelyremembered where he had gotten up to when the door burst open withouta knock. He didn't need to look up to know who it was and gloweredacross the room at Alfred who was scowling back at him. "What doyou want?" Arthur demanded.

"We're meant to be working together," Alfredtold him, sternly.

"Only for the party," Arthur corrected him."I'm on the clock – and so are you. Go back to your littleroom in the basement and whatever you do down there all day."

Alfred's scowl deepened. "You know fine well we'renot in the basement-"

"I don't care. Get out of my office."

Sighing, Alfred tried again. "We need to make alist of things we need to do for this party. So I'm not leaving tillwe do this." He stalked into the room and let himself drop intothe comfortable armchair that Arthur had personally brought in forauthors and other important visitors to feel relaxed in duringmeetings.

"And I refuse to talk about the Christmas partyuntil I've at least finished work today."

With that being said,he returned his attention to the manuscript, his red pen in hand ashe circled a few paragraphs about something he felt was inane to theplot. He tried not to be too conscious of Alfred's presence in theroom but he couldn't help wondering if he was going to do somethingstupid like mess up his desk to get Arthur's attention. Nervously, heshuffled his papers around a little, trying to remember what he wastrying to work on. Glancing at his computer, he realised that hehadn't booted it up since he came back from the meeting and wouldneed to in order to check his e-mails. Just as he was about to reachout to turn it on, Alfred suddenly stood, making Arthur jolt insurprise.

"Fine," said Alfred, shortly. "I'll waitfor you after work." And he strode from the room, leaving thedoor wide open.

Arthur sighed and prayed for patience.

Whoever was watching over him didn't give himany.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Arthur's temperflared frequently enough that he couldn't remember the last time hehadn't been irritated and had been content. Their first meeting tookplace in a McDonald's since Arthur couldn't shake Alfred and theother man wanted food. Arthur had never had an argument in aMcDonald's but, when they couldn't agree on a venue, Arthur had tostorm out in lieu of being thrown out.

Whenever they discussed it, they argued about everysingle detail. The venue (Alfred wanted to have it in the officewhile Arthur thought they should take it out of the workplace); themusic (Alfred wanted loud pop music while Arthur thought it would bebetter to have gentle ballads); the decorations (Arthur thought theyshould be minimalist with white being the predominant colour whileAlfred was adamant there should be more colour); the food and drink(Alfred wanted to have a huge spread while Arthur thought thereshouldn't be too much in order to keep waste down); the possibilityof gifts (Alfred wanted to do Secret Santa but Arthur had pointed outhow long it was taking them to organise the party, let alone a SecretSanta as well); the games (which Arthur didn't want to have). Everysingle time they had a difference of opinion, there was a loudargument with shouting and slamming doors. Most of their discussionshappened in the office and their colleagues were equal parts amusedand exasperated.

The day of the party drew nearer (another thingdisagreed on) and their arguments grew worse. That was because Arthurwas getting more and more fed up with the holiday. With every fight,he felt his chest hurting. Alfred's disdain and hatred was clear andhe couldn't figure out why it had only seemed to become worse. Hebegan to dread going to the office and dread talking to anyone. Hiswork began to fall behind, his efficiency dropping as he fumed orworried or fought.

Struggling, Arthur watched the calendar, counting downthe days until he'd be free...

Finally, it was upon them.

After compromising a lot, they had decided to have itin their biggest conference room. Since Alfred had insisted on aChristmas tree and other decorations, they were set to decoratestraight after work the day before the party. Arthur really justwanted to get home as soon as possible so he made sure everythingthey needed was in the conference room by four o'clock. He alsomanaged to convince Francis, Antonio and Gilbert to help him shiftthe tables out so they'd have room to work.

So, when five o'clock hit, Arthur made sure to clockout, say goodnight to all his colleagues with a weary smile andreturned to the room. Alfred was waiting for him and he sighed uponseeing Alfred's cheerful expression. It looked a little strained atthe edges.

"Huh," said Alfred. "I washalf-expecting you to bail on me."

"Why would I do that?" Arthur said, movingover to the huge box of multi-coloured baubles and streamers and Godonly knew what else. "This is my responsibility as well. I'm notgoing to duck out of it."

"Sure," Alfred muttered, sounding peeved.

"Let's just get this over with. I'll decorate thewindow and you decorate over there." Arthur gestured towards thedoor.

There was no answer but, when Arthur glanced over hisshoulder, he saw that the bespectacled blond was working on opening along box. Thankful that they wouldn't be continuing any sort ofconversation, Arthur began to unravel the tinsel and set aside thebaubles ready for the tree. They were huge monstrosities,multi-coloured, all red and green and silver and gold and white andpink, for some reason. There were also huge decals to go on the floorto ceiling windows, all of them in colour, including Santa and anativity scene. Arthur frowned at the fact that there wouldn't be anysnowflakes to stick up, except for the paper ones which would hangfrom the ceiling and make it impossible to move around the room.

He got to work, deciding to put the decals on thewindows first. They were pretty simple so he was finished with themquickly. Passing by Alfred who was struggling to get the bottom partof the fake tree connected with the rest of it, Arthur went into thehall where a step-ladder had been left for their use. Arthurwordlessly set it up in one corner and climbed up, a large, papersnowflake in one hand. He pinned it to the ceiling before climbingback down. Three of them were hanging up before he noticed just whereAlfred had placed the tree.

"What's that doing there?"Arthur demanded, gesturing at it.

"Huh?" said Alfred, looking up from where hewas hanging the baubles on the little fake branches.

"The tree. You've put it in front the window. Howare people supposed to see that ridiculous snowman you made me putup?"

"It's not ridiculous," Alfred protested,glaring at Arthur as he descended from on high. "And I wantpeople to see it as they come in."

Arthur looked around the room. The floor to ceilingwindows took up nearly the entire wall on one side of the room.Opposite it, the door was in one corner and the tree at the far endof the room. Glancing at the free corner pointedly, Arthur said, "Youdon't think they'd see it there?"

"But there's not enough impact,"Alfred insisted. "It has to be here."

"Then what was the point in the snowman?!"Arthur exclaimed, completely done with Alfred's strange determinationon what they should have at the party. All of their decisions hadcome down to the flip of a coin and Arthur had only won on the SecretSanta and games suggestions. Everything else had to be exactly asAlfred envisioned or it would 'ruin Christmas'.

"Y'know, for added Christmas cheer!"

"No!" snapped Arthur. "Move the tree!"

Alfred frowned. "No; it's perfect here."

"Don't be so stupid! Everyone will be able to seeit in that other corner," Arthur said, pointing at it.

"Why're you trying to ruin my fun?" Alfreddemanded.

"I'm not. I just think it would be best to makesure everyone will enjoy it instead of just you."

"You're just being a Scrooge! A mean, uptight,horrid... person!" declared Alfred once he'd clearly run out ofadjectives to use against him.

"Oh, look at the pot calling the kettle black!"Arthur snapped, batting aside one of the giant snowflakes that wasgetting on his nerves.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"You did that horrifying prank on me on my firstday! How did you not think that was mean?"

"It was just a joke," Alfred tried to defendhimself, though he looked uncomfortable.

"You laughed in my face!" Arthur yelled, hishands now curled into fists. "And you never bothered toapologise! I don't know what you were thinking, but you quite clearlydon't want me here."

"What? No. I-"

"Don't deny it!" Arthur interrupted him,unable to stop the words tumbling from his lips. "You hate me!It's quite obvious!"

"I don't hate you!" Alfred exclaimed,eyes wide behind his glasses. "I-"

"You definitely don't like me."

"It's not as if you made yourself likeable,"Alfred said, hands raised as if to defend himself or placate Arthur.

"Well, I'm sorry that this is a job I've workedhard for. I'm sorry I desperately want to keep this job. I'm sorrythat I don't want to be fired and I'm bloody terrified that I'll dosomething to make that happen. And you walk in, with your stupid grinand your inane comments and- and- and you made me believe I couldlose this – everything – all of this- because of-" Arthurhad to stop, panting a little, to take a deep breath and get histhoughts in order.

"That's..." Alfred tried to say but Arthurcut him off.

"I love this job," he told Alfred, angerstill thrumming through him and prompting him to speak. "But Idread coming in here because of you."

Alfred seemed to freeze at that, his eyes gettingimpossibly wider. "I..."

"You don't need to make an excuse," Arthursnarled, worked up now. He could feel the pressure in his head as hefought against the tears. "I don't want to hear it!"Turning away from Alfred, he stalked away. Noting the sheer amount ofdecorations they still had to put up, Arthur slumped. There was noway he could continue working after blowing up at Alfred. He turnedback to him but, before he could say anything, he found Alfred weaklysmiling at him.

"Okay," he said. "Look. It's Christmas.You need to just relax a bit, all right? Then, in the New Year-"

"'Relax'?" said Arthur, incredulously."'Relax'?! Don't tell me to 'relax'! Do you think this is somesort of joke!"

"No! No, no, I don't, I-"

"I've had enough!" Arthur glanced up at thesnowflake he had batted at before and whacked it as hard as he could.It ripped with a horrible tearing noise, flopping on its string. Partof it fell down in pieces so that it looked as though it was actuallysnowing.

"Hey!" cried Alfred, looking at the ruineddecoration in dismay.

"Put the rest up by yourself," Arthur toldhim as he turned away from him. "I'm going home."

"What?! Arti- Arthur, c'mon. You can't – if youdon't help me, the party'll be ruined!"

"Well, just you wait till next year and I won't be'ruining' your party."

"What?!" Alfred yelped. "What, Arthur,wait! What did that mean?" Arthur paused in the doorwayand sent him a look meant to convey the implications: he imagined helooked equal parts angry, exhausted and upset. Alfred's mouth droppedopen. "No, wait, Arthur, don't-!" But Arthur turned hishead away, shook it hurriedly and rushed off before his emotions gotthe better of him.

Arthur didn't sleep that night.

At first, his anger had fuelled him through a few hoursof housework before he retired to bed. There, he'd fumed – until itfaded. It was swiftly replaced by shame and guilt and regret. He'dleft Alfred to decorate on his own. No doubt, he wouldn't be finishedby the next night. Everyone would be disappointed that their partywas a failure. Maybe they wouldn't bother next year.

The worse part, of course, had been his rant to Alfred.It wasn't his fault that Arthur had been far too stressed. Heshouldn't have shouted at him. And he definitely shouldn't haverevealed so much to the man. His worst enemy. The only person hedidn't want to know his personal thoughts and feelings.

It made him shudder.

But, the worst guilt he felt was that Elizaveta's treatto her employees had gone up in smoke. There was no way that he couldsee for them to salvage the party. However, Arthur had a thought justbefore he dropped off to sleep. There was one thing none of them weregoing to get at the party, that none of them would expect and thatmight make it up to them.

Which was why he threw his clothes on early the nextmorning, stepped into his shoes, grabbed his coat and wallet andventured out into the horror of the high street during the Christmasrush. There were a lot of people to buy for and he had to make sureall of the gifts were perfect. Especially Alfred's – it would needto stand in as Christmas present and apology.

***Later that day, around the time people would bebeginning to reach the office for the supposed party, Arthurreturned. He was absolutely exhausted from going to and from everysort of shop imaginable. His wallet was considerably lighter and hehoped he'd be able to survive until he was paid again. Then he'd hadto rush home so he could wrap everything in boxes with plain redpaper and golden ribbons. Finally finished, he'd rushed to theoffices and quietly made his way in, careful not to be noticed as heswiped his way through the floor's secure locks.

Playing at Santa – of a sort – Arthur slipped intoeach office, leaving the appropriate present to be found wheneverthey next arrived there. For Elizaveta, who kept her office lockedwith an actual key, he pinned it to the door, close enough to hername plaque that the tiny hole would hopefully not be noticeableafterwards. Mission complete, he heaved a sigh and let the tensionseep out of him, slumping a little as he made his way back to thedoor, intent on leaving. A noise from the makeshift party roomstopped him. Was Alfred in there, still trying to get it all readyfor everyone?

Cautious, eyes darting to and fro in the hope that hewouldn't be seen, Arthur sidled up to the door. He placed his hand onthe doorknob. With a deep breath, he turned the handle and slowlypushed it open, peering through it. He froze at what he saw,confused.

When he had left the night before, the majority of thedecorations had been bright and cheerful. The tree had been large andrather imposing. Wrecked, gigantic paper monstrosities hung in onecorner of the room. Boxes had covered the floor.

Now, the floor was mostly clear. A table had beenpushed against the far wall, laden with food and a punch bowl.Beneath it, hundreds of various bottles were nestled – Arthur evenspied several packets of paper cups. The windows had been stripped ofthe giant stickers that Arthur had painstakingly and smoothly put on.Instead, the windows seemed to be dusted by light snow or frost,icicles hanging down from above. Icicles also hung from the ceiling,lit up and slowly pulsing a pretty glow. A thinner, smaller tree,sprayed with snow and covered in muted coloured baubles stood in thecorner Arthur had told Alfred to put his only 24 hours before.Standing proud atop it was a golden fairy, silver wand held high.Seats were pushed against what space was left, covered in sheets andfoil and wire to make them appear as if they had been roughly carvedout of snow. Gentle, slow music flowed from a music player somewhere.Silver tinsel was draped anywhere it could be without being in theway.

And it was full of people. Francis and Elizaveta andGilbert and... Everyone. They were all there, chatting away. No-onehad drinks. Ludwig had a rectangular box under one arm. Leaningagainst his back, Feliciano had his tongue stuck out as hepainstakingly wrote out a card. Searching around the room, Arthurquickly spotted Alfred as well. He was working with Kiku, wrestlingwith a chair and a sheet.

"Urgh, Keeks, why won't this one work?" hesaid, voice carrying across the room.

"You are rushing," Kiku answered politely.

"He'll be here soon!"

"If he even-" Francis began but he glanced atthe door as he spoke and his eyes widened. "Arthur!" hecried and Alfred immediately dropped the chair onto Kiku's foot.

"Artie!" he exclaimed, spinning around.

"'Artie'?" Arthur questioned, quite unable towrap his head around what he was seeing.

"Uh. Yeah, um. You made it! Merry Christmas!"The others echoed the sentiment.

"What... What is all this?" Arthurasked, stepping into the room and noticing the concertinaed papersnowmen curving across the wall. "I thought you wanted brightcolours and... 'happiness' or whatever it was you said."

"Uh," Alfred said again, eyes drawn to thefloor. "I... I'm sorry."

"What?" said Arthur flatly, unable to quiteunderstand what was happening.

"I've been a real jerk," Alfred admittedbefore sheepishly looking up at Arthur, hand rubbing at the back ofhis head. "I'm sorry. What I did on your first day... It wasreally stupid but... I'd only wanted to make you laugh. I didn'tthink about what it would mean to you. And laughing at you. And...everything else." He stopped to take a deep breath. Then helooked up at Arthur, closing the gap between them so he could lookArthur in the eye. "I shouldn't have..." Alfred faltered."Er, what's the word. Made you feel left out?"

"Alienated," Francis informed him.

"That's it! I shouldn't have alienated you."

"None of us should've," Gilbert piped up."Al's like one of the family and... I dunno, I suppose we justnaturally took his side in a lot of stuff."

"So this is to, like, make up for that!"Alfred declared, spreading his arms wide to show off the room. "If,y'know, it can."

"This is for you," Ludwig said, stepping upbeside them. "From all of us."

"And this, too!" Feliciano exclaimed, handingover the card he'd hastily stuffed into the envelope.

Arthur looked at all of them, perplexed. Had theyreally banded together to sort out the party and welcome himproperly? What could they possibly have gotten him? Hesitant, hereached out to take the items. He opened the box first, his curiositygetting the better of him. Inside, a wide strip of metal rested. Hepulled it out – and gasped.

A. Kirkland

Publisher

"We got it engraved today," Alfred explained."It cost a lot to get it done 'cause of short notice and howbusy they were so I hadta get everyone else to pitch in and then wordgot around and... this happened." He swept his hand around theroom.

Stunned, Arthur shook his head. "You... You didn'tneed to. I mean... I've been horrible, too. I'm so sorry Alfred. Ishouldn't have-"

"Nah, it's fine. Not your fault," said Alfreddismissively, smiling at Arthur. It was a rather soft, fond smile,Arthur thought, and it was a little disconcerting that Alfred hadthat expression for him. He ducked his head, smiling himself.His heart felt warmer, happy tears blurring his vision.

"I just... thank you," Arthur said. Heclutched the present to his chest and wondered if he should tell themall about their presents. Then he decided it could be a surprise forthem. Nobody needed to know what he'd done.

"Yeah." Alfred put a friendly hand onArthur's shoulder which made him rather embarrassed, unused to thissort of attention. "Merry Christmas, Artie. And welcome to EroCup Publishing."

I was honestly gonna have them under mistletoe at the end there and have to kiss (but a chaste one) but I thought that was a bit much...

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 38

Wow I really don’t know how I’m still going with this, anyway it’s getting a bit... miraculace-y ;)

Also on AO3, as always

Fu had been right about ignorance being bliss. He had been absolutely, completely, right. The other timelines were just creepy at this point. Mostly Alix tried just to not think about them at all, which worked fairly well – while awake, at least. Being asleep was something else entirely.

Waking up the next morning, her most recent dream just kept replaying itself over and over in her head. It had been from that timeline where she was still under house arrest, having been kept alone for months on end at this point. Well… no wonder it was so haunting…

No. She had to get her mind off it somehow. Why not reread that science journal, for about the fifth time? That always cheered her up. Max had handed it to her the other day and told her she might find something of interest on page 27. Sure enough, she did.

He had been right about the word “aromantic”. And that wasn’t all! There was “asexuality” too! Things were finally making sense. Okay, so she didn’t actually understand most of the article (or most of the journal in general) since it was written in such scientific language, but she got the gist of it. And the gist was that there was nothing wrong with her after all. People like her were totally normal.

Her initial reaction might have been a bit overly enthusiastic, now that she thought about it. She had clung onto Jalil’s shin like a koala, refusing to let go, telling him excitedly about everything she’d just read. Okay, that had probably been pretty annoying for him. Whoops.

Well never mind. Alix took the journal in one hand, took a “scientific dictionary of terms” off the nearby bookshelf with another hand, then sat on an armchair ready to go through the article properly and understand what it meant, like a good, diligent student. Even if she still didn’t understand things she could always ask Max. The next few weeks had International Alliance peace conferences going on, which gave her an excuse to stay in this kingdom for almost the entire remaining holidays, so she would have plenty of time.

“Good morning o sister of mine, what are you doing?”

Huh, was Jalil really up this early? He was a uni student and usually seemed to be allergic to mornings or daytime.

“I’m studying,” Alix replied.

“In the holidays, really? What are you studying?”

“Science.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it! My precious little sister does actually take after me! I’m so proud, honestly, you’re going to be a great scholar someday!”

Alix just ignored him and tried to concentrate. She was used to filtering out distractions while working, considering that she always had to deal with Kim at school. Though, to be fair, she was usually the one doing the distracting.

“Aww, look at you, my adorable small sister, just sitting there reading…”

Yeah, that was very distracting. Alix just carried on trying to ignore him. Maybe he was doing it on purpose to get back at her for all the times she had distracted him from his own work. In any case, she recognized that tone of voice. It was the “I’m about to start squishing your adorable chubby little cheeks!” tone of voice. Apparently it was a common thing for older siblings to do. Alya had once mentioned that she did it to her own little sisters.

Of course, the difference was that Alya’s sisters were little kids. Alix was 17! She didn’t usually mind unless Jalil was doing it in front of people, but still… would this still be going when she was 100? Wasn’t this totally stupid and pointless? Why were older siblings like this?

Sure enough, he did indeed start poking her in the cheek and muttering about how tiny and adorable she was, as always. Hopefully he’d get bored and stop in a minute.

“No reaction,” he said, in a suddenly monotone voice. It was so unexpected that Alix couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Aha, a reaction!”

“Oh, forget it,” Alix said, snapping the journal shut. “There’s no way I can study with you around. I’m off.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go talk to Max.”

“Good for you, he can help you on your path to wisdom and knowledge! And speaking of Max, what happened with him and Kim last night?”

“That’s none of your business, ask them yourself.”

“What? No, I’m not talking to either of those children for any longer than I have to, thank you very much.”

There, snarky Jalil was back. Alix just grinned and walked out of the room, picking her snake up from the back of a nearby chair as she went. As soon as she opened the door the servant standing outside hastily jumped backwards, trying to look casual. He’d probably been listening in. Whatever, it wasn’t like she had said anything that wasn’t supposed to be heard.

Wait a second… this servant. This was the one who had been introducing everyone to the Peace Ball last night. That meant that this was the Emperor Palpatine servant. The one who Kim had challenged to a lacrosse match, for some insane reason.

“You’re Emperor Palpatine’s nemesis, right?” she asked him.

“Yep, that’s me,” the guy replied. “Uh, Your Majesty.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave a rather cocky grin.

Hmm. Kim was right, this guy really did need to be knocked down a peg. Alix thought back to the dream she’d had last night – less of a dream, more just watching the events of other timelines while asleep. The real reason why the “house arrest timeline” was so creepy was not because of the thought of house arrest anymore. It was because of what house arrest had done to her in that timeline. Cold, cynical, cruel, intimidating… that was who she had become. It wasn’t a good thing.

But then again, if she could do it in other timelines, then she could channel it into herself here too, right? Just like when she had scared those guards away from kidnapping Adrien?

She put on her coldest voice and expression and said, “You’re going to lose that lacrosse match, by the way.” The snake hissed a little, adding to the effect.

The servant looked taken aback for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. “But if you use your royal powers or your snake to force me into losing then that’s cheating and it doesn’t count.”

Okay, maybe he was right. “Fine then,” she said. “I won’t ‘scare you into losing’ or anything. But just know that I could if I wanted to. And you’re still going to lose.”

“We’ll see about that, Your Majesty.”

Oh, an annoying servant. That was so much more interesting! Why couldn’t the servants back home be like this? Things would be much more fun.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Bye for now.”

As she walked away she could see the servant bowing rather overdramatically out of the corner of her eye. No wonder Kim had challenged that guy to something within a few minutes of meeting him. He seemed like the kind of person who would clash with Kim a lot. But maybe they’d end up making friends. After all, Alix herself had clashed with Kim a lot at first, hadn’t she…?

Max was already awake when she arrived, as predicted.

“Oh good morning Alix, what’s up?”

“What happened between you and Kim last night?” she asked immediately. Of course she already knew what had happened since Kim had told her, but she needed to hear it from Max’s side too. Surely those two idiots must be on the verge of getting together. Surely.

Max sighed, his smile dropping. “A lot.”

Alix sat down beside him. “Okay. Elaborate.”

“Well, he asked me for a dance. Then we went outside in the gardens for a while. And he has a habit of being extremely supportive of me, so I felt like it was time to return the favour. I said a lot of very nice things to him indeed. Then I hugged him. For quite a long time. And then…” He put his head in his hands.

“Then what? Did you kiss him?” Of course she knew they hadn’t kissed, that was practically the first thing Kim had told her.

“No! I mean, I was thinking about it! I was going to. I wanted to.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I can’t do that when Kim doesn’t love me back like that!”

God, this was the most frustrating thing ever. She just wanted to grab Max by the ear and yell Of course Kim loves you back like that!!! He’s head over heels for you!!! How are you not seeing this!!! I’m aromantic and asexual and even I can tell!!!!!!!! Just ask him out already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But she had been sworn to secrecy by both of them. Life could never just be simple, could it? She’d just have to get them together the long way around.

“So then what did you do?” she asked, trying not to sound like she was as impatient as she felt.

Max shrugged. “I just left. It probably seemed rather sudden.”

Yeah, it was rather sudden. Sudden enough to push Kim to tears, anyway.

“What makes you think Kim doesn’t love you back?” Alix asked. “I mean, you said he’s always really nice and supportive to you and stuff. More than usual lately. Surely that means he likes you, right?”

“Not necessarily. Kim has always been very kind and supportive to me and it never meant anything romantic. The fact that his behaviours have increased recently is probably due to the fact that he’s been under comparatively more stress these past several months, what with the flu and the news from home. Logically speaking, his feelings for me are almost certainly solely platonic.”

Well logically speaking, Max was dead wrong! Alix resisted the urge to throttle him and said, “Are you sure though? Like, are you really, really sure?”

“Yes. Look, I have thought about it properly, I promise. Kim has always been attracted to people who are considered conventionally hot, not nerds like me.”

“Seriously?! I’m not conventional!”

“But you are considered ‘hot’. Trust me, from my objective, gay point of view, I can tell.”

What? This just wouldn’t do. Max was cute-looking too, of course he was!

“I’ll have you know,” Alix said, “that from my even more objective, aromantic asexual point of view, every single kid in our class is ‘hot’, including you, so stop being so pessimistic and just go court the hell out of Kim already!”

Max smiled a little. “Sounds like you read the science journal, huh?”

“I know you’re trying to change the subject on purpose but yeah, I did. Thank you for that.”

“No problem. I’m glad it was useful for you.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m kinda wishing my other timeline selves had read it before they…”

“Before what?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry.”

“How are the other timelines anyway? Anyone else dead yet?”

“No, unless you count on the inside. Last night instead of a dream I was just seeing what was going on in the timeline where I’m under house arrest, and it was… uh… pretty creepy.”

Max was smiling even more now. “Really? I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

“Of course I’m not!” she lied. “It’s just that like… that house arrest version of me, she’s… well, I don’t know how much I blame her, since she’s been kept in isolation for so long, it must be driving her nuts. But basically what happened is Kim was allowed to visit her for a little bit the other day, since they’re betrothed or whatever, and yeah. He’s definitely afraid of her.”

“To be fair, it doesn’t take much to be afraid of you.”

“I know, but someone who was once her best friend? She told him that as soon as she’s queen of his country, she’s gonna rule with an iron fist and make sure she always gets her way, since she can’t do that right now and it’s killing her. She’s basically being forced to abdicate and leave the throne to her dad with no choice and she wants revenge. She’s going to use forces from Kim’s kingdom to provide arms for Jalil so he can start a rebellion and take over. Or something like that.”

Max frowned. “Alright, I see why you said it was creepy.”

“Exactly. And now Kim’s scared of her, and she’ll use that to get him to allow her to do anything she wants.”

That wasn’t even the half of it. Since she was still sworn to secrecy she didn’t dare mention the next bit of what happened, but it was still chilling all the same…

“Alix, I think I should probably tell you that I’m in love with Max, don’t be mad…”

“I don’t mind. You can always just divorce me, abdicate, leave your kingdom to me, then go marry him.”

“What? But I don’t want to give up my kingdom!”

“You don’t have a choice about it. I’m being made to marry you, right? It doesn’t matter whether you ever abdicate or not. You may be the king but I will be the one in charge, whether you like it or not.”

Wow. She really didn’t like the thought of Kim being afraid of her. If house arrest had been bad enough that it would turn her into someone like that, well… thank goodness she had saved Adrien from that kind of fate.

“I wish I could talk to her,” she said finally. “I don’t know what I’d say, but maybe it would help.”

“It seems like having timeline powers is rather bittersweet in a way,” Max said.

“Yep. Emphasis on the bitter.”

“There must be good things about it too!”

“Other than learning from some stupid mistakes, there’s nothing good.”

“But surely there must–”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Max called. The door opened and in walked Kim, looking a little nervous.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Wait, Alix, you’re awake already?”

“Jeez, I don’t usually wake up that late, do I?” she said.

“Yeah, you do… anyway, um, Max? I need to ask you something…”

Aha! He was going to ask Max out, finally! Alix tried to stop herself grinning. Should she leave? No, it would be weird if she just suddenly left, wouldn’t it… but she couldn’t just stay here when Kim and Max were having a moment, could she? Oh whatever, if Kim wanted her to leave then he’d just tell her to leave. She had to stay and see this for herself.

Kim cleared his throat and then said, “Max, will you join my lacrosse team?”

What?! Lacrosse?!

“I have no idea what this is about but I would love to,” Max replied.

“That’s great. Thanks. I’ll see you later, I’m gonna go ask Alya and Nino now.”

“Alright, see you.”

Kim turned and walked out of the room again. Max just sighed and put his face in his hands again. Alix was rather close to going and finding a lacrosse stick to whack them both over the head with. Was it really so hard for people to just tell each other that they were in love?! Kim had told her, he had told Chloé, he’d told Adrien, presumably Max must have confessed to some people in his lifetime at some point…

Or had he?

“Max, how long did you say you’ve been in love with Kim?”

“A few years now. It was rather hard to notice at first so I’m not sure exactly.”

Years? Already? And he had never done anything about it at all?

“I don’t get it,” she said. “Just during the time we’ve been at this school Kim’s already had crushes on like five different people. Have you really only had one? Or did you like other people in between?”

“A few other weak ones in between, I suppose. It’s different for everyone. Kim’s a hopeless romantic who tends to fall for people rather often. Most people aren’t quite as dramatic as him when it comes to love.”

Right. That made sense. And maybe this could be put to good use.

“You’ve gotta be dramatic too, Max!” She poked him in the arm. “If you want him to love you, pull out all the stops. Show up at his window with a guitar and serenade him. Take him to the fanciest restaurant you can think of. Put a rose between your teeth and flirt with him so hard he has to take the hint. Make him swoon!”

Max was looking rather embarrassed. “Neither you, Chloé nor Adrien had to do any of that.”

“Max. Listen. Stop being so logical all the time. Just trust me. He loves cheesy romantic stuff, okay? Go dance with him in the rain, kiss him under the mistletoe, something!”

“How about play I lacrosse with him?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a start, I guess. But don’t forget that Kim isn’t a slow mover. Like, trust me on this. Seriously, really, trust me.”

“Maybe I’ll do something on the Cupid Festival day.”

��Good. He’d love that.”

Max smiled. “I’m so glad I told you I like Kim. It’s nice to be able to finally talk to someone about it, someone who’s willing to help me. Thank you, Alix.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. You’re my best friend, of course I’ll help you.”

“And for the record, please don’t think that I’m closer with Kim than I am with you. You mean a lot to me too, of course.” He ruffled her hair.

“Pfff, you’re in a sappy mood, aren’t you? But like… you mean a lot to me as well. So there.”

He just chuckled and pulled her into a long hug. Max wasn’t the type of person who hugged people very often – or rather, he only really tended to hug Kim – so it felt unusual. But good, too.

Finally he let go and said, “By the way, what exactly is all this about a lacrosse team?”

“Oh that!” Alix laughed. “I’m not sure of the full story, but it’s something to do with the servant who called Kim Emperor Palpatine last night.”

“Really?”

There was another knock on the door. Alix jumped up and opened it to see that Kim was there again, this time with Alya and Nino too, and they were all carrying lacrosse sticks. Upside-down.

“Lacrosse practice session time!” Kim said. “Come on you guys, there’s no time to waste!”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah, right now! We have to get to the pitch before Adam’s team does so we can practise!”

“But we’re royals, we can just order him to leave–”

“Shush! Let’s get going! Last one there has to be the goalie!”

Without waiting, Kim ran off back down the corridor. Alya and Nino exchanged an amused glance before running after him.

“So,” Alix said, turning to Max. “You ready for some lacrosse?”

“Yeah,” Max replied, standing up. “I’m ready.” .

[oumakokichi]

not meta really, but do you have any headcanons for what the v3 kids were like personalitywise before the brainwashing?? we see a little of them in the prologue but it's very vague, and i haven't seen any headcanons aside from my own so i'm interested in seeing what you think

I have a few, yes! Coming up with headcanons for what theywere like beforehand is really fun in my opinion. I know a lot of people wereupset by the twist because they felt like either they “never really got to knowthe real characters,” or else that the characters we see in-game had theirpersonalities “completely made opposite” from how they were beforehand, but I don’treally feel like that was the case.

I’ve gone over it in a few posts, but I’m pretty sure thatwith most of the characters, their core personalities were definitely leftintact. Ouma was an exception to the rule, and Tsumugi attempted to twist himfurther than anyone else, specifically because she wanted him to be the bad guyin her game—a perfectly manipulated, amenable pawn of despair to her plans soshe could set herself and everyone else up to be “Hope” and Ouma would be “Despair.”But as for the others, who weren’t supposed to be cast into a villainous rolefrom the start, there really wasn’t any need for her to try to twist them thatfar, and I think a lot of their basic interests, hobbies, inclinations, etc.are all very similar to how we see them behave in-game.

The fact that their given likes and dislikes don’t alwaysmatch up perfectly with their given talents is proof of this. Despite thebrainwashing and the fake talents, their actual personalities, and the thingsthey either like or don’t like, are still theirs.Angie, for instance, really doesn’t like moisture—aninteresting thing to note, considering in-game she’s portrayed as being from amost likely tropical island, and is an artist who works with paints and ink, noless. And Tenko’s likes include nunchakus, which have absolutely nothing to dowith aikido but sound very fitting for someone who perhaps before entering thegames was just interested in martial arts in general.

What I think was changed about them for the game per se wasmostly what they wanted out of the game directly. Tsumugi is an otaku at heart;she’s very open about this, really. Even once she’s been outed as themastermind, it’s very clear that she views absolutely everything through a lensof fiction, and this includes wanting certain “tropes” or “genre twists”applied to various characters within the game. This means that she’s reallyjust going to find it boring if she gives them all what they want directly whenthey audition.

And so characters like Saihara, who ask to be a “cooldetective who can get away with closed room murder tricks,” are “subverted” byher instead, and given a backstory based on insecurity, tragedy, and the fearof ruining everyone’s lives with the very thing that a detective seeks most:the truth. But at heart, Saihara is clearly the same person. He wants to be adetective, he enjoys mysteries. He has a natural curiosity about the worldaround him and he likes doing armchair detective reasoning more than anything.He loves novels—and it’s easy to tell in hindsight that he really loved the DRnovels all along.

I’ve talked before about how even seeing that some of the characterssigned up for the audition willingly or knowingly while talking about killingpeople doesn’t necessarily mean that they were a horrible person or a bully. Itall depends on what society is actually like in the ndrv3 universe—and everythingwe know about the outside world and how society must have rebuilt itself afterthose catastrophes suggests that it’s awful. If the killing game reality showhas been going for 53 seasons and is a deeply engrained pastime andentertainment hobby, that’s not something that would ever occur in a normal society. It sounds much moreHunger Games-like to me, where the idea that this is “normal” and that thesekids (kids without talent) “deserve it” is so inherently beaten into societythat it goes unquestioned, even by the kids who sign up for it themselves.

Therefore even for characters like Momota, who was shownsaying on his tape that he wanted to kill people and win the game for money, it’simportant to remember that Tsumugi wanted to use those audition tapes for shockvalue. In my opinion, she wanted to use the tapes to create the impression thatthe survivors were all drastically different people than who they used to beback when they auditioned, because that would be the thing that would breaktheir spirits and convince them that they were little more than “fictionalexistences.”

In any case, a character like Momota, who was actually sickfrom before, would have more reason than most to enter a killing gamewillingly. He was already going to die anyway, and knew he had nothing to lose,and the idea of winning a game so clearly meant for entertainment and prestigeand “looking cool” was probably appealing under those circumstances.

My headcanons for most of the characters is that theyprobably acted very similarly, but with a few subversions. Tenko, for instance,I could easily see being the same very excitable, very easy-to-read emotionalsort of person. I think she must have really had a love for watching martialarts, but didn’t really know a lot about them, and that explains why she wasgiven a title like SHSL Aikido Specialist when she really just thinks nunchakuslook cool. But she was still a person who wants to “be strong” and wants to “protectothers”; she just didn’t always know how to go about it the best way, just asshe doesn’t always know how to do so with Himiko.

Kaede is fairly similar. The Kaede we see in her ownaudition tape describes herself as a cynic and someone who can’t really trustothers easily. Considering the bleakness of the outside world and society inndrv3, and what we see of Kaede’s flashbacks to being kidnapped in theprologue, this fits pretty well. But also she undeniably wanted to be a leaderfrom the start. She wanted to be someone who could trust others, and inspirethem, and serve as a hopeful, reliable sort of figure. This means that even ifshe felt actually putting it into practice might have been impossible for her,because of how cynical she was, she still had those feelings there all along.Kaede would never have made for the “perfect protagonist” figure that she wasif she hadn’t had that kind of potential in her all along.

Miu I definitely see as having been extremely similar to howshe is in-game. Most likely she went into her audition specifically asking tobe some “high and mighty inventor,” and she wanted to be able to invent supercool stuff all the time and have everyone think she was awesome and incredible.But since Miu is ultimately a character who’s almost all bark and no bite, andwho backs down quickly when given the same treatment she tries to force onto others,even in-game she retains this sort of quality, and her genius inventing abilitiesare still subverted by the fact that she really lacks basic common sense abouta lot of other things.

In the prologue, we see her saying things like “Why’re youtalking like someone who’s got talent?!”, implying that talent clearly existsin ndrv3 society and that those without it are regarded pretty lowly, or likethey shouldn’t be giving their opinions about things. And this is definitelyhow the Miu we see in-game acts a lot, so it follows her thought process.

You probably get the idea—most of the characters I thinkfollow this sort of pattern where how they would behave or talk to others isreally similar, except that perhaps they were slightly more or less excitableor confident or jaded. And that’s pretty normal, actually, in my opinion.Rather than thinking of them as entirely separate from their in-game selves,with most of them it feels a lot more like comparing the same person but withfive or ten years of experience in-between, because experience can also changea person and how they think without changing who they are at their core.

With Ouma…the question is a little more complicated, becauseOuma’s situation was more complicated. He was given the most messed up talentout of the bunch, because Tsumugi wanted him to be her pawn more than anything.We don’t see much of him in the prologue to compare to, either—he has exactlyone speaking line, and all we can really glean is that he looks really, reallynervous, and that he has never heard of himself (or the others) having any “sealedtalents” which the Monokumerz keep talking about.

Tsumugi confirms that his DICE group actually existed, andthat they did “laughably small crimes,” meaning that they most likely wentaround pulling pranks and maybe petty theft at most. I’d say this confirms thatOuma has definitely always been mischievous at least, but certainlywell-intentioned.

If my own theory that ndrv3’s society in general is basedaround those with SHSL Talents in the real world perpetuating fiction like DRand running the killing game show in order to take things out on those withouttalent is true, then I would bet Ouma and his DICE group were probably a realpain in the ass. A group of kids running around and pulling pranks andgenerally making these very talented people at the top of society in thissituation where talent is everything and it’s all up to “survival of thefittest” must have seemed like a real slap in the face, moreso if the wholepoint of DICE was that “no one ever got hurt or killed.”

My own headcanon (meaning no one has to agree with it) isthat Ouma looks so shocked and nervous in the prologue precisely because he’dbeen getting away with all these kinds of pranks and jokes before, andeverything seemed like a game and everything was going fine—up until he thoughthe “got caught.” Then suddenly he realized that he was in really hot water and that something definitely wasn’t right aboutthe situation he was in.

His personality being “imbued with despair” even feels alittle more intentionally like a punishment than anything that’s given to theother characters. If he and his DICE group had been making a point of playingthese pranks, getting away with these harmless crimes in order to point andlaugh at a talent-based society that was based around slaughtering off thosewithout talent because really, these super-talented people are not as smart asthey think they are, well…that’s a subversive message.

And it would make sense that Tsumugi and the producers wouldwant to make sure that he was the villain, and that he was given thispersonality and role based around the idea of “hurting others” and “getting offto human suffering,” because that’s what she wanted him to be. That’s whatJunko was, after all. But it speaks a lot to Ouma’s core values as a person,that even when that’s something he was twisted into and to some degree,something he did believe he’d become, he still maintained his hatred forkilling and suffering. He knew thingswere off about the killing game, and about his own memories and talent becauseof how much dissonance there was between what he could remember and the disgusthe actually felt when he saw human suffering.

Anyway, these arejust my headcanons! This got a bit long but it was really fun to talk about. Iknow a lot of people are still tripped up by the misinformation that thecharacters’ personalities are all “completely opposite” from how they werebefore, but knowing that that’s not really the case gives a lot more room forspeculation and ideas based on what we do see of them in-game, and I find itreally fun.