#maybe the joke about me gambling away all my life savings won’t be a joke some time soon

[heartcircus]

[gesturing wildly] yesterday derapchu said on stream that it was Vi who messaged zam saying he’d like to talk to him after being revived . and the manhunt begins at 4:30 Not at 4:00 when session normally begins. so surely those 30 minutes are allocated to talking with zam right……..

[yoan-portfolio]

You can do better… but when should you stop

Can relentlessly searching for “the one” ultimately leave you with zero?

Another fling has come to an end. Your bank account suggests therapy is not an option so you are laid on the bedroom floor. You have been on the phone for the last 3 hours and it burns your cheek as you listen to another one of your friends trash the guy’s haircut. Like, why would you even date someone with a mullet? Your mom thought he was too old for you, and your cousin three times removed, that you called God knows why, said men in business courses were a red flag anyway.

But as all the mixed reviews pour in, it hits you. Among all the rants and jokes you hear a common phrase - “You can do so much better”. And you believe them - you are in your twenties, hot, (mostly) trauma-free, and got a killer supply of puns… What a catch! 

It’s not a wild concept to imagine yourself with someone who would really deserve you, either. You see it on TikTok (you know the 12 signs you can do better videos that always find a way on your FYP), forums where mid-aged wives cry over not dumping their asshole husbands when they still could, and of course, song lyrics in those “get over him” playlists you have saved on your Spotify.

Studies show that as the pressure society puts on young people to couple up dwindles, we are more willing to take our time in looking for “the one”. 40% of millennials say they won’t date someone wrong for them just to be in a relationship, while 66% of Gen Z accept that “not all relationships will be permanent” and 70% reject a “limiting romantic relationship”.  

Our generation has seemingly taken a leap of faith towards a Hallmark romance, where “doing better” has become a mantra we rarely question. Do these rose-tinted glasses have a warranty, though?  And how would you ever know if the clock is ticking on it? Now, I don’t mean to send you spiralling, which is why I talked to women of various ages about their search for someone more suitable. This is how it worked out for them:

“In my twenties, I was soaring in the clouds.” says Sharon, now 46-years-old, when recalling her first dating experiences  “When I first started being interested in boys, I was around 15, 16. It was less me being interested in them, more of me being interested in the attention they could give me.

“My confidence would be dependent on how much attention I was getting, until the point I felt like the centre of the universe. Whenever I decided, I could maybe give them some of my attention back, since I was so obviously above them. At this point it was so ingrained in my mind that I could do better - by my friends and my newfound ego - that I didn’t even question it. I mean, everyone was being served to me on a platter, and if they weren’t - their loss! Later I would mature, I fell in love for the first time and started looking for a deeper connection.”

Getting addicted to romantic affection is not a crazy concept. Science has dubbed romantic love a “natural addiction” because it affects the same dopamine pathways associated with drug addiction, alcohol and gambling. And as with any other drug, the more and more you take it, the effects fade. Maybe this is why time has us build a more pragmatic, mature outlook on love.

“Many find themselves going from relationship to relationship, basking for a while in an initial experience, only to eventually feel restless, but long-time partners know that their one-on-one relationship must be guarded and enriched on a continual basis.” says Dr. Randi Gunther, a psychologist and marriage counsellor.

“There will always be someone better in some ways and less in others out there. What is more important is personal transformation so that each succeeding relationship is better. Who were you at the beginning of this relationship? Who are you now? Who will you become as a result of how you love and learn?

“Living a life of waiting and wondering if something is better out there takes energy away from creating the best your current relationship can offer.”

A study conducted by Vice shortly after the pandemic, made up of 45% Gen Z respondents, showed 75% were currently single and not dating, stating they wanted to take the solitary time to get to know themselves better before pursuing a partnership.

Taking time with dating undeniably teaches us as much about ourselves as it does about the people around us. It helps us establish boundaries, figure out our own needs and what we bring to the table. It is a process that can feel empowering, disappointing and everything in between - and sometimes, it is easy to lose the end goal amidst the flurry of emotions.

“Now that I am older, I have seen how it can backfire on you.” says Sharon. “Some of my friends went through that phase of thinking they can do better in a later period in life and it has lasted for years. It's the reason a lot of them have remained alone. 

“While they build their ego they stall and stall until it turns into narcissism. So by the time you get older and look into the mirror all you see is a withered narcissus and you need that very down to earth relationship to bring you back. However, by then, people your age have usually married, created families and you are left with just yourself and a plunging ego.”

“The fact that your desirability will inevitably fade is hard to come to terms with at a young age. At 20 it’s all Swan Lake and at 40 it’s the Dance of the Dying Swan” she laughs.

A scroll through the internet or a girls’ night out with your seemingly happy, coupled up friends shows that a loving relationship will not simply root the thought of doing better out. What was once an empowering, hopeful mantra to a proud single can turn out to be the Apple of Discord in a couple’s life.

“Even as a stable couple, there are traps that can lead you to think you can do better” says Willow, 19, when recalling her 3-year-long relationship.

“I would say when you are together for a while you start doing the same thing over and over again - work, see each other for an hour in the evening, have some dinner, go to sleep. And it’s every day - with me, the days I had off, my boyfriend didn’t so I would go out with my friends and complain about it. Some of them were like “Just get yourself out there, go wild, that lad over there wants to buy you a drink”.

“When you are young, no matter the comfort of the relationship you want to be part of that culture, of being wild and reckless, which doesn’t necessarily work when you have a long term partner. You want to live that single life of “I don’t care, I can go home whenever I want”, being your own person.

“It ends up with you distancing yourself. My gran always said never do things without each other - it may seem suffocating - the more and more stuff you don’t do together, the more you get used to being separate.”

Though the grass will always be greener and you might never stop thinking about how your toxic ex gave you 8 orgasms per week, unlike your loving partner who only gives you 6, it’s important to evaluate what really is important to you in a relationship. Is it intimacy, companionship, trust? And if you are getting all of that, why not put the effort into giving it back, instead of pondering the “what ifs”.

“Hope springs eternal but realistic people do know what they are worth on the open market and what they need to bring to a relationship that would make the person they want, want them.” says Dr. Gunther

“My husband and I met at fourteen. We grew up off of each other. Many years of great therapy and lots of ups and downs. Much mutual and independent growth to continue to be interested and interesting. There were many times I wondered if someone out there would be better, but I was never willing to give up what I had. “

And while the thought of a soulmate or an effortless romance is tempting, it is important to go all Mythbusters on yourself. The fulfilment of a partner who is willing to put in the work as much as you and is ready to support you as you grow is undeniably more than you will get from that guy from uni with the fat trust fund who took you to fancy dinners, had a chiselled six pack, and no emotional maturity.

“A person who seems perfect when you are twenty may not turn out to be the person you need and thrive on the other end of when you are thirty. Younger people are not usually adequately formed yet in who they are to become.” says Dr. Gunther.

“Great partners talk about their feelings and people they have a yearning for openly with each other. They use those attractions to reevaluate their relationship. Were you to have a magic wand, could you conjure up a perfect person for you that would always be that way? That would mean you could never change, either.”

[lambden]

What better way to break in a new blog than by immediately posting fic? In honour of Nightmare of the Wolf, here’s some Vesemir and Filavandrel!

(read on AO3)

M, 2.9K words, no warnings, Vesemir recognizes Jaskier’s lute when he arrives at Kaer Morhen

Vesemir has been expecting this day for decades. It’s rare for witchers to meet a trusted companion out on the Path, and even rarer to find one who wishes to travel alongside them. But the reputation of witchers has changed in recent years, for better or worse. Their focus is no longer on maintaining the traditional practices of their schools, but on protection— of other witchers, and of helpless commoners. Perhaps the humans can sense that change.

More curiously, the folklore surrounding witchers has changed. Vesemir very badly wants to meet the man who has done so much to change the narrative, but years pass and all Geralt brings home every winter are stories. The younger witchers entertain (and tease) him but no one ever asks where the bard goes during the cold months that Geralt spends at Kaer Morhen. Perhaps even Geralt doesn’t know.

Finally, after hundreds of stories of Geralt-and-Dandelion, Vesemir receives a letter one autumn before he himself has even considered the journey home. His chest warms as he reads Geralt’s careful penmanship, noting how the ink blots at the start of each new sentence. The paper and wax are fine, suggesting that Jaskier used his academic connections to perhaps land Geralt a few contracts near Oxenfurt. Geralt’s lettering may be nearly flawless but his message is stilted, reminding Vesemir of when his pups were nervous children. Does Jaskier really make him act this awkward? Their relationship must be serious, then.

I am hoping you will welcome my guest with open arms, or I fear he may freeze over the coming months. Vesemir looks for a signature but there is none, save a very fancy G at the bottom. No returning address has been provided either, and while he could easily pen a missive to Oxenfurt, it’s probably best not to respond. Each day Nilfgaard only grows stronger, and crueler. Perhaps Jaskier has been caught up in their hunger for power. Vesemir folds the letter up and hides it in his saddlebag.

When the frost begins creeping in, the oldest Wolf begins his trek up the mountain. He’s almost always the first one to arrive; Coën had beaten him to it once and apologized for weeks, and Vesemir would do anything to avoid that again. And if he makes an effort to arrive early this year so that he can make the Keep look as important as it is, well… nobody needs to know.

It takes a week and a half before Geralt arrives, Jaskier in tow. Vesemir spends the time flushing out a bat infestation and dealing with the most perishable of his spoils from the past year. The White Wolf seems to bring the cold with him most years but Vesemir, cognizant of Jaskier’s inferior body, made sure to set out enough furs in advance. As soon as he hears Roach’s hooves approaching he starts a roaring fire, and when the inner doors of Kaer Morhen burst open, Vesemir is ready to make a great first impression.

Upon seeing him, Geralt smiles right away, crossing the room to greet him. Vesemir looks him over; no obvious new scars, no missing body parts. Must have been an uneventful year, but… Geralt is here, safe and alive, so Vesemir allows himself some private, selfish, unwitcherly joy. It’s the sort of thing Deglan would have lectured him for. He finds he doesn’t care.

“I got your letter,” he tells Geralt, who nods solemnly. “I thought it best not to reply. Is Nilfgaard on your trail?”

“Our trail,” Geralt sighs, stepping aside so that Vesemir can meet his companion. “Vesemir, this is Jaskier.”

The bard, dwarfed by a large fur coat, moves forward so that Vesemir can properly scrutinize him. He certainly doesn’t look his age, but Vesemir knows he’s travelled as far as any witcher has gone, and seen sights no human should really have witnessed. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about you, Jaskier. I was wondering when Geralt was finally going to bring you along for the winter!” That makes Jaskier perk up, and Vesemir chuckles. “I promise that no harm will come to you here.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says. “Geralt doesn’t like sharing much about the other witchers, but I’m sure you must have a wealth of stories for me to hear!” Sure enough, Geralt frowns. “And I don’t know how much help I’ll be with hunting or gathering, but I would be happy to regale you on the coldest nights—” 

And before Vesemir can read into that unfortunate phrasing, Jaskier shrugs off his fur coat to produce a lute. He must have been wearing it strapped around his front on the journey through the mountains, not wanting to condemn such a fine instrument to being jostled around in Roach’s saddlebags. Vesemir squints at the red-brown wood and the golden details under the strings. They almost look like a particular elven design.

Oh. Vesemir’s realization nearly bowls him over. Geralt and Jaskier stare at him, respectively concerned and curious, but Vesemir can’t take his eyes off the lute. “My apologies, I… I forgot something in my chamber. Make yourselves at home, and… I’ll leave you to it.” He leaves without any further explanation, hastening to his quarters and abandoning the pair of them to their own devices. He can still feel their gazes drilling into his back but he suddenly feels weaker than usual.

---

 “I heard there was a witcher skulking around this forest,” the spy says. Vesemir is almost relieved to hear them speak; he’s been glancing over his shoulder for nearly an hour now to try and reveal an invisible pursuer. He should’ve known he was right. Just because the spy doesn’t lumber like a human or reek of magic like a monster doesn’t mean he won’t be in trouble. 

He stops in the middle of the path, still facing forward. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the second he turns, a very unfriendly knife is going to introduce itself to his ribcage. Or perhaps an arrow, although he hasn’t heard the sound of anything and he’s been listening very closely.

His pursuer approaches. Fuck, they’re light on their feet. If Vesemir was just an average bandit, he’d be done for. He braces himself for an attack, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. The stranger continues, tone still pleasant enough, “Why not stay in town? A warm bed must beat trudging through mud in the early hours of the morning trying to find ground. I’ll give you some advice, witcher; there’s no dry ground. You’re heading towards a swamp.”

“They wouldn’t let me stay in town,” Vesemir admits, already grumpy. He whirls around and sees the stranger; a lean man, just slightly shorter than him. The long hood of their cloak casts a dark shadow over their face, blocking them from view. “If you’re here to rob me, I hate to disappoint, but you’ve followed me all this way for nothing.”

He holds up his empty coinpurse; not to prove himself, just to complain. The stranger titters, a lovely, high-pitched sound like glass clinking against glass, like chimes. Like birdsong. Vesemir’s eyes narrow. “That’s a shame,” they say. “You do love coin.”

There’s something disturbingly familiar about the words. Vesemir decides to gamble with his own life, stalking forward until he’s face to face with the stranger. Up close, his scent is even stronger. Frowning, Vesemir is about to reveal the man’s identity when he does it himself, pushing his hood back. His hair is tied up in complex braids unlike any Vesemir has ever seen, only a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. But it would take more than a lifetime for Vesemir to forget that face.

“Fil,” he declares, delighted, and doesn’t think twice before crashing into the elf. Filavandrel laughs again and though it makes Vesemir feel a little silly, the sound still fills his heart with joy. He embraces his friend tightly, clinging to him for so long that both their boots sink down into the flooded dark soil of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s like I told you.” The elf pats the back of Vesemir’s neck, unwittingly sending a shiver down his spine. Vesemir’s grip tightens. “My scouts said I might find a witcher lost in the woods.”

“I’m not lost,” Vesemir grunts, finally pulling away. “I just… don’t know where I’m going.”

“Come to my camp,” suggests Filavandrel. As if he even had to ask.

Unsurprisingly, elves make their camps much differently than witchers do. When they arrive Vesemir doesn’t immediately see any sort of bedroll, and then he feels embarrassed for looking. He never feels this way around anyone else; he can make bawdy jokes with Sven or blatantly hit on Luka, but in the company of Filavandrel aén Fidháil, shame bursts through him so easily.

Maybe he just has a thing for pretty blondes who he leaves behind.

Except Fil is here, smiling indulgently as Vesemir gapes like a fool. “It’s nice,” he finally manages to say. “Want me to set a fire?”

“A campfire, sure. Not a big one,” Filavandrel teases. Swallowing, Vesemir turns to a firepit that the elf must have fashioned himself. He takes a bundle of wood that’s already been cut and easily ignites it, all the while trying to figure out why his heart is pounding so damn loud. Thank fuck that Filavandrel isn’t a witcher.

“Have you eaten?”

“No. You?”

“I was going to have some bread, and go hunting in the morning.” There’s a small noise and when Vesemir turns to look, his friend is holding out a large chunk of bread. It doesn’t even look that stale. Vesemir sees that Filavandrel has taken a much smaller piece for himself and growls about it, but the elf snatches the smaller piece away before Vesemir can lunge for it. “I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificial bullshit about how witchers don’t need to eat. Take the damn bread, Ves.”

“... Fine,” Vesemir relents, cowed. He accepts the bread, fingertips accidentally brushing over Filavandrel’s when he takes it. It’s fucking delicious, melting in his mouth almost instantly. Seeds and herbs have been baked into it too, and Vesemir savours every bite, moaning. “You should quit being a professional elf and start a new life as a baker, fuck.”

“I can do both. It’s an old recipe, needs a stone oven. And what does being a professional elf even mean?” Filavandrel reaches up to shove him, except they aren’t very far away from each other so the push nearly knocks Vesemir off his balance. Before he can tip over onto the grass Filavandrel grabs him by the collar of his gambeson and tugs him back, and, well. Vesemir may be a witcher, but parts of him are still human. 

Neither of them has to say a word; he opens for Filavandrel like he’s been thinking of nothing but this since the second they laid eyes on each other. Honestly, he sort of has. Fil runs a hand over the shaved part of his head, pressing his palm against the back of his neck to pull him in closer. Vesemir moans, chasing the taste of something sweet and acidic and magic. It certainly isn’t the fucking bread.

Afterwards they lie together by the smoldering remains of the fire, both too spent to clean themselves or dress. Vesemir glances over at the cinders and thinks about making an exit soon. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to stay with Filavandrel. He’s comfortable here, especially right now, and his friend always makes his heart feel lighter. But the Path calls to him; lying here without his weapons or armour, Vesemir can nearly hear Deglan’s scolding. And that thought is enough to ruin anyone’s afterglow.

Before he can move, Filavandrel sits up, arching his back. Vesemir turns to watch him, nearly salivating at how he looks in the low firelight. His hair is radiant, and his skin isn’t nearly flushed enough. He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Selfishly, Vesemir wishes that he’d left more marks.

Fil climbs to his feet and crosses the campsite to retrieve something out of reach. Vesemir cranes his neck to try and peek, and Filavandrel laughs kindly at him. “I was just thinking that something’s missing.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Vesemir says, lowering his head back down onto the ground. “I should have kissed you more.”

The elf pauses at that before finally demanding, “Kiss me later.” A note resounds through the air, clear and beautiful; then a chord, and another. Very soon their little clearing feels more like a fairy circle than a campground as Filavandrel plays music. 

He finally walks into view, still naked, still beautiful. Now holding a lute. Vesemir tries to sit up so that he can properly see the performance but Filavandrel is faster, moving over him and then sitting atop his stomach, resting his back against Vesemir’s thighs. He plays the entire time, fingers moving adeptly over the instrument.

It’s a beautiful lute, probably made of some holy dark red wood. The golden design etched into it is mesmerizing, and the strings could have been plucked from the mane of a unicorn. Vesemir hardly spares it any attention, too wrapped up in the sight of a naked Filavandrel straddling him and singing.

He’ll only realize decades later that the elf was probably trying to court him.

Someone knocks on the door to his chambers and Vesemir jumps to his feet, caught off-guard by the sound that plucked him from his memories. He finds Jaskier waiting outside his room, toying idly with the sleeves of his doublet. Vesemir shakes his head, holding the door open for Jaskier even as he apologizes. “I’m sorry for running out earlier. I meant to give you a tour of the Keep, hopefully Geralt will have stepped up in my absence, but I am sorry—”

“No— please,” Jaskier interrupts. Once more he pulls his lute from around himself, holding it out to Vesemir. “I just… Your countenance changed dramatically upon seeing this, so…”

Fuck. “Yes,” Vesemir sighs, staring at the lute. Jaskier has managed to keep it in good condition after all this time. “I… Filavandrel and I are old friends.”

The bard’s eyes bulge out of his head but he enters Vesemir’s chambers, heading straight to the desk to perch on the edge of the chair. Vesemir finds another chair for himself, moving its previous occupant— a stack of books— onto the floor. In his defence, he hadn’t expected the tour of Kaer Morhen to begin in his personal chambers.

“He didn’t mention knowing any other witchers,” Jaskier hums. “How did you meet him?”

“You’re sure you want to know? It’s sort of a long story.” The bard just nods, eager and polite. Instantly Vesemir can see why Geralt likes him. “Alright,” he obliges, reaching for the bottle of wine on the desk. They’re going to need it. “We met long before you would have been born…”

 ---

 South of Kaedwen, the seasons are more aligned than any other part of the Continent. The winters are crisp, the summers lazy. Filavandrel likes to spend his summers here, where the canopy of trees is thick enough to provide shade but thin enough to provide colour. Everything is verdant, the flowers calling to him as he passes each one. When he was a child he had longed to visit towns and experience human delights like festivals but now he knows better. The elves live off the land well enough anyway.

Some of the younger people in his company these days have that same yearning, and some of them even manage it. One elf who resembles Toruviel always runs off to see some different show, take in some new performance. If Filavandrel thought that she could get away with it, he would pay for her to attend Oxenfurt— she’s very good. And the upside of her risking her life just to listen to music is that she’s got a very good memory, and she always brings the songs back home.

Today she’s singing some new ode to a witcher; not that bigoted anthem of lies that the bastard warbler from Posada somehow spread through the Continent, thank the Gods. This one seems to revolve more around making the right choice, and how a real hero does good deeds not for coin or his own profit, but just to be good. Filavandrel thinks about the few witchers that he’s had the misfortune of contacting over the years, and under his breath he scoffs.

Cheesy chorus aside, the lyrics seem to have some merit. The first verse is all about some terrible monster that was taking young girls, transforming them into half-beasts. The hero witcher’s judgement fails him and he blames himself for years, even losing a lover in the process. Filavandrel scowls; despite his own experiences with witches, he doesn’t want to listen to a song written by yet another prejudiced bard.

Then the third verse lands. The witcher grows old and wise and has children of his own, and he regrets his inaction and he tries to reach out to contact his lover. But at that point his lover, who devoted his life to protecting those in danger, was too busy being King of the Silver Towers. Filavandrel stops dead in his tracks as he realizes which witcher this must have been inspired by.

The elven king huffs, starting to compose a route in his head. He thinks a trip up north is long overdue.

[libsterslobsters]

Communication Breakdown

Summary: Friends make life much sweeter. That is, until you realize that you've accidentally fallen in love with your only friend. But that's not a problem. The reader can just keep pretending that she has absolutely no romantic feelings for Bucky whatsoever... right???

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! Reader

(Reader sees bits of the future, understands all languages, and processes information abnormally quickly)

Warning: Angst, fluff, strong language, and truly terrible communication between two grown adults who should really know better

Author's note: As per usual, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert if that's your jam, but when I'm writing this particular character, I call her Violet.

*************************************************

 They day starts out the way most days do. There’s the normal ding of her phone at seven a.m. signaling that she’s received another “Good morning” text from Barnes (six months, and he’s yet to miss a day). As usual, she sends back her own “Good morning” and they exchange a few well wishes for the day ahead. Only this time, a pang goes through her heart as she turns the phone to silent and places it in the drawer of her desk in preparation for her first class. Pushing it to the side, she greets her students and starts in on her lecture about verb tenses.

 She’s almost forgotten her momentary lapse in feelings when her phone rings at twelve. Time for their daily lunchtime phone call. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about the words they exchange. He’s doing laundry today, does she want him to stop by and pick up hers as well? Yes, thanks, that’ll save her some time since she has a mountain of papers to grade. Does she need to reschedule tonight’s dinner? He doesn’t mind if she does. No, she has time. Can she bring anything? No, just herself. Then a joke about how hasn’t she heard that one somewhere before. She almost slips up and tacks an “I love you” onto the goodbye, but remembers just in time. That’s not a thing friends say to each other (or at least, not in this friendship). Of course, friends also don’t spend far too much time imagining what the other person’s lips would feel like against theirs and their skin doesn’t tingle like they’ve received an electric shock every time they so much as brush hands.

 “You got a boyfriend, teacher?” One of her students ask teasingly as she puts her phone away.

 “No, nothing like that. Just my friend.” 

 Her afternoon is a blur (the only part that stands out is when one of her students is asked to form a sentence in the present tense, and his example is, “I am asking teacher to marry me.”; it was a joke, and she responded with, “Teacher is flattered, but she is saying no.”), and by the time she’s on the bus back home, a backpack full of papers in the seat beside her, all she wants to do is sleep. Of course, then her phone dings with, “Be at yours in thirty.” and she finds she has a little more energy.

 It’s unhealthy, a sign that she doesn’t know when to quit, but as usual, she begins to pretty herself up a bit before he arrives. She should just stop. They’re friends. Bucky is her friend. All he will ever see her as is a friend. What does it matter how she looks? Frustrated, she throws her hair up in a ponytail (she wasn’t succeeding in getting it to lay right anyway) and pulls on an old flannel with several holes in it over her shirt. There. She’s got this completely in control.

 She’s just finished washing the makeup from her face when, right on time, a knocking comes from her front door. It’s just a formality at this point; he has a key. Speaking of… she shoves a pair of socks that got mixed up in her laundry last time she did both of theirs in one go into her pocket and goes to answer.

 “Hey.”

 As per usual, they share a hug, and a part of her whispers that hugs between friends don’t last this long. She knows it’s foolishness, though. She hasn’t had a friend in years, so she’s remembering things wrong more than likely. He doesn’t get much interraction outside of her, not much touch, so that’s why he doesn’t let go. That, or he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings by pulling away.

 Eventually it does end, and she can feel that her cheeks are warm.

 “Hey, Doll. Ready to go?”

 She swallows hard. It’s a sweet nickname, one that from what she’s read, was a common way to address females you’re familiar with back in the days before he went in the ice.

 “Sure.” She pastes a smile on her face and closes the door behind her.

 They’re in the elevator before he speaks again.

 “That shirt-” His fingertips brush the skin on her wrist as he examines the cuff. “-it looks kinda familiar.” Her mind has gone all fuzzy, but it’s still clear enough that sudden realization dawns on her; it’s actually his. A loaner from months ago when it was colder than she had expected by the time she got around to leaving his apartment far later than she really should have. She can’t believe she never got around to returning it.

 “Shit. Sorry, Buck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”

 Yet another reason why he would never be interested in her. She’s absentminded. Seeing bits and pieces of the future leaves her so scattered that she forgets what she’s supposed to be doing in the present. In fact, for the first month or so after they really started to become friends, it was a constant struggle; her asking him about something she could’ve sworn he told her, only to find out it had yet to occur, or worse, it had happened but he sure as hell hadn’t mentioned it. These days, whenever she makes a mistake with her timing, he just responds with a joking, “You’re ahead of the game again.” She’s lucky to have him as a friend.

 “Nah, don’t worry about it.” The doors squeak open as they reach the ground floor. “Looks better on you anyway.”

 God, she wishes he’d stop saying things like that, stop being so kind. It only serves to make things get even more tangled in her mind. She needs a distraction. Now.

 “So, what’s tonight’s plan?”

 He chuckles.

 “If I tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.” She doesn’t even bother to supress a groan at that.

 “I think I have enough surprises in my life already.”

 “Funny thing to say for a girl who sees the future.” Not like she can argue with that. “Just trust me. You’ll like it.”

 She does trust him, and that’s part of the problem. It’s been a long time since she’s had anyone in her life that she can honestly say she relies on.  She needs to stay in control, or else she’ll lose him like she’s lost everyone else.

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She’s oddly quiet tonight, reserved. Maybe even a little sad. Bucky shakes his head, silently chiding himself. He’s imagining things. If something had happened, she’d tell him. She’s probably just tired. It’s the middle of the working week after all, and she’s having to do one of her least favorite tasks as a teacher: prepare exams. She’s told him many times how much she hates it because, “I don’t feel like it’s an accurate gauge of how much they’re really learning. Lots of people do poorly on tests because they get nervous but do well in class discussions and on the homework. It shouldn’t count for so much of their grades, but I have to stick to the rules.” It’s yet another reason he loves her, even if he hasn’t said as much.

 As they stop by different street vendors, collecting what they need for the night ahead (which he still isn’t one hundred percent certain will be a success, but after copious amounts of internet research, it was the only thing he could come up with that would fit  the current bounds of both budget and time), he asks about her day. Usually she gives an animated account of everything that happened, but this time, she just sticks to the basics. Even when she shares that a student teasingly proposed to her, the smile on her face seems hollow, unreal. Okay, maybe he’s not imagining things.

 When they’re a block away from their destination, he stops and turns to her.

 “Close your eyes.” Her response is a frown.

 “I think I’ve heard this one before, and I’m not falling for it.”

 “Come on.” Nope. Still nothing. Time to pull out the big guns. “What was that about trusting me?” It’s a guilt trip, and he hates to do it, but it’ll be worth it.

 “Fine.” She groans, and her eyelids lower. “But if you’re about to put a spider on me, I’ll smack you. I don’t care that it’ll probably break my hand.”

 He snickers.

 “No spiders involved. Promise.”

 It’s not the first time he’s held her hand, but as he covers her smaller one with his, a rush of warmth travels from his fingertips up his arm. It’s so hypnotizing that he almost forgets he’s supposed to be leading her. Almost, but not quite.

 “This way.”

 “Don’t let me fall.”

 “I won’t.”

 If anyone notices that there’s a woman with her eyes closed being led around by a man in a baseball cap and sunglasses even though the sun is setting, they don’t show it, and it’s a relatively peaceful walk into the park. Now, he remembers there being a bench… there. Great. And the lake is completely theirs. No other people around.

 “You can open them now.”

 The look of cynicism melts from her face as her eyes open and she takes in the scenery surrounding them. In a bustling city, they’re in one of the few places that is completely green. More than that, there’s-

 “Ducks!” She laughs, and he can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “In the middle of the city! Wild ducks!” Looks like his gamble paid off. “How did you-”

 “I didn’t know for sure.” And in truth, he felt a little silly googling ‘parks in Bucharest with wildlife’. “But there was a web page that mentioned wild ducks tend to populate lakes, swamps, and rivers even here, so I took a shot that, maybe since there’s a lake here, there’d be a few.”

 “Is that what this is about?” She taps the loaf of bread they aquired on the way over.

 “No, that’s actually part of dinner. This-” He hates to do it, but he has to let go of her hand to dig in his pocket, finally producing a bag of oats. “-is for the ducks.”

 She smirks. “You’ve done your research.”

 “Be prepared.”

 “Alright, boy scout.” Even as she says it, she’s staring out at the water.

 “I know it’s not ‘catching a mouse in your apartment’ different, but-” The corners of her lips quirk up at the memory. “-I thought it might be a nice change from sitting around watching movies.”

 “Thank you.” Even though it’s getting chillier with the sun going down, that smile more than makes up for the lack of warmth. “You didn’t have to do all this-”

 “No, but I wanted to. Thought it might make you smile.” That’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because she freezes, and that smile melts into a frown. “Everything okay?”

 She starts to nod, but then stops short.

 “Bucky, I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry.”

 Without any other explanation, she’s off, heading back in the direction from which they came. And, like that first day all those months ago, he chases after her.

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

 “Hey! Slow down!” Ten seconds. He must not’ve had his Wheaties this morning if it’s taken him this long to catch up with her. Still, just this once, couldn’t Barnes not follow her? Take it easy on a girl for a change? That’s the whole point of running away, after all. To put some distance between yourself and whatever it is you’re running from.

 She keeps moving, walking fast, but he’s right on top of her.

 “When are you gonna stop running away from me?”

 “Depends. When are you gonna stop chasing me?”

 “I’m not. Thought that was understood.” He takes her hand (when did they start doing that? Most friends don’t… then again, what does she know about friendship) and she has no choice but to turn around and look at him.

 “Talk to me.”

 She can’t. If she starts, she knows those tears she’s keeping at bay will spill over.

 “Alright.” Dropping her hand, he crosses his arms. “I’ll wait, but it’s starting to get dark, so I’d appreciate it if we could do this sooner rather than later.” Dammit.

 “I just can’t do it anymore.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. No tears. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’ve never lead me on or acted like anything other than a friend, so please don’t think you’re the problem.”

 “Problem? Doll, what-” She pushes ahead, ignoring his confusion.

 “The problem is me. Somewhere along the way, I got my wires crossed.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Now keep going. “You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes. And a-” Her cheeks are on fire. “-a good-looking one too. Anyone would be lucky to have you. And selfishly, I started wishing that “anyone” was me. I didn’t mean to, but I fell in love with you.” She has to finish it, or else she’ll regret it. “I just can’t keep going like this. It hurts too damn much. I’m sorry. I need to not see you for a while, and I get it if you never want to talk to me again.” It’s no use. The tears fall, and she starts walking again.

 “When the hell did I say any of that?”

 She can’t stop. She can’t do this. Not now.

 “Will you stop running away from me? Just for five minutes?”

 He hasn’t touched her, but it doesn’t matter. She freezes in place, just as if he’d grabbed hold of her and held her there.

 “Please, just this once, let me walk away.” Can’t he spare her that one last dignity?

 “You wanna walk away? Go ahead. But like I said, I’m not gonna stop chasing after you. Not until you hear me out.”

 He’s in front of her now. There’s no way of hiding that she’s full-on crying, so instead she shuts her eyes so she won’t have to see his face.

 “Dammit.” She couldn’t have said it better herself. “None of what you just said made any sense. You want us to stop seeing each other because… you’re interested in me. Have I got that part right?” She nods, still keeping her eyes closed. “That’s what I thought. See, the part I’m a little confused about is, why would that be a problem?” She opens her mouth to explain it all over again. “I thought it was pretty clear I’ve been trying to date you for the past six months.” What? She’s never been more befuddled in her whole life. It’s enough that she has to open her eyes. “Not as clear as I thought, obviously.”

 He’s scratching the back of his neck, something she’s realized over time is a nervous habit.

 “This is my fault. I should’ve come out and said something, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or…” He clears his throat. “...well, sound dumb if I’m being honest. Granted it’s been a while since I’ve done this, but seeing each other pretty much whenever either person has free time, eating together and watching movies, phone calls…” He trails off. “...I thought that was dating.”

 Oh.

 “So, all this time-” She starts.

 “Looks like it. Sorry.” He grimaces. “Not that I wouldn’t want to be your friend, if that’s all you wanted. I mean, you’re a great person and I like you in more than just THAT way. I just sort of assumed.”

 She can’t help it. A laugh slips out.

 “God. This would’ve been a hell of a thing to have a vision about.” Good. He’s smiling. At least they’re starting to recover.

 “I thought for sure you must’ve; something at least, with all you see me doing before I do it.” Sometimes, she really hates her powers and how selective they can be. “Figured it was just one of those things you don’t talk about but you both know. Pretty dumb, in hindsight.”

 “No…” She reaches out to grasp his arm, but stops short. “...I can see why you’d assume-”

 “You too, now that I think about it.” He chuckles. “This is a nice mess, huh?”

 “One of my best, I think.” Honestly, she could’ve avoided all this trouble if she had taken a cue from third graders and passed him a note that said, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

 “Can we start over? Maybe have a redo with less assuming and more actually saying things?”

 She nods, a genuine smile on her face.

 “I’d like that.”

 “Okay.” Clearing his throat, he sticks out his hand. “Hi, I’m Bucky. I’m the man who’s been falling in love with you for the past six months, and if it’s alright, I’d like to be your boyfriend. Or, whatever the term is these days.”

 “Pleased to meet you.” She’s struggling not to laugh as she shakes his hand. “That term’s kind of cringey, but I think it’s still in use. And if it’s alright with you, it’s alright with me.”

 It’s been long enough; she really should let go of his hand, but she can’t bring herself to. He seems to be having the same problem, so instead, he takes a step closer, and she does the same in response.

 “I have one more question, and I’ve been meaning to ask it for a while.”

 They’re chest to chest now. She can almost feel it every time he takes a breath.

 “Shoot.” 

 “Can I kiss you?”

 This must be what people mean when they refer to getting butterflies.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s not her first kiss, and if she had to bet, it’s probably not his either, but it’s unlike anything she’s felt before, making everything else pale by comparrison. They may have gotten off to a rough start, but at least for now, they’ve ironed it out. Oh, and he loves her too. That’s also good.

[pocket-luv101]

First Impressions // Chapter 1

Fandom: Servamp Ship: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side), Tetsono (side), Jekuni (side) Characters: Hyde, Licht, Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: After Licht meets the wealthy bachelor, Hyde, she was certain that she could never be friends with him. Their paths continues to cross and she slowly comes to know him. Licht wonders if she judged him too quickly. (LawLicht, Pride and Prejudice AU, Fem Licht)

(Ch.1) //

Licht was immersed in playing her piano. She loved music and she wanted to become a pianist. She understood that it would be difficult for her to be a professional musician due to her gender. Women were taught music and art but there was an expectation that they would perform as a hobby rather than a career. Despite the limitations, Licht was determined to pursue her dreams.

She hoped to provide for her sisters with her passion as well. While her family were respected among high society, they were far from wealthy. Both of her parents were rather frivolous with money. She had four sisters whom she adored and she wanted to give them an easy life. The hardship the sisters faced brought them closer.

“Father, I must speak with you immediately!” Mikuni yelled as she stormed into the drawing room. Licht was confused by her sister’s tone of voice. She rarely heard her be genuinely angry as she was now. While Mikuni would often feign a dramatic personality around strangers, she was truly a composed and intelligent person. “What is this that I’ve found in the study?”

She slammed a piece of paper onto the table in front of their father. Licht was curious what could’ve made her sister so upset and she stopped playing to listen to their conversation. Mikuni stabbed her finger against the words on the paper and Licht thought the table would break beneath her anger.

“Your will states that our house and land will be inherited by the male heir of our family after your death. Must I remind you that you have five daughters and no sons, Father? If you die without a son, the house will be given to our cousin, Haruto, and he will surely evict us. You will be forcing us to be homeless or to rely on the charity of others.” Mikuni took a pen and pressed it into her father’s hand. “I will not leave this spot until you amend this will so the house will be split equally among the five of us.”

“Mikuni, you are being unreasonable. This is a fairly standard will. Women are not permitted to inherit property so I couldn’t include you in my will. You are very intelligent so you should be able to understand the law.” He said and his answer only made her frown deepen. “Your Uncle Toru is very kind. Perhaps he can take you girls in.”

“We grew up in this house and Mikuni should be the one to inherit it.” Licht argued in support of her sister. “She took over the estate’s finances and she’s the only reason we weren’t forced to sell off the house to settle your gambling debt. Mikuni can run the business better than Haruto. He has never stepped foot on our land and doesn’t know it as well as Mikuni.”

The Eves owned a modest animal farm and their main income came from training horses for nobles. When Mikuni was only seventeen, she had decided to help with the family’s business. She had gained the respect of the workers over the past ten years and they saw her as their manager over her father. Despite her efforts to save her family’s home from debtors, she would still lose it.

“You father and I have already discussed the issue, my sweet children.” Their mother said. “There is no need to worry about our financial security after you find husbands. In fact, a wealthy family will be moving into the estate next to ours. The Servamp family has several eligible bachelors and one will be taken with our beautiful Sakura. Perhaps, several will ask for her hand!”

“The town hall will be throwing a public ball to welcome them to the countryside. I shall introduce you to them.” Her father added.

“A ball? We must go into the village and buy me a new dress for the occasion. All the men will fawn over me.” Sakura cheered in excitement and jumped to her feet. She was the youngest sister at nineteen and she was rather spoiled. Licht hoped that her younger sister would mature out of her vain personality with age. “Mikuni, can I borrow money? I already spent my allowance on my new bonnet.”

“Sakura, we cannot afford to buy you a new dress every time you step out of the house. I’m certain that you will find a suitable gown in your closet.” Mikuni told Sakura sternly. She turned to her parents and her backs straightened. “I don’t agree with your plan to marry us off, as though that will solve the issue. I will find a way for the house to stay in our family.”

“You have always been a headstrong woman.” He sighed. “JeJe, make tea for us. It should help calm Mikuni.”

“JeJe, escort me to the stables. I want to oversee Misono’s riding lesson and whether Tetsu is caring for her properly.” Mikuni purposely spoke over her father. JeJe stopped next to her and she placed her hand on the crook of his arm. She began to leave the room with him. She only looked back to her parents to say: “For the sake of my sisters, I wish you a long and healthy life. I want you to know that I’m disappointed by both of you.”

Licht watched Mikuni leave and she debated if she should go after her. She knew her well enough to understand that her sister would prefer to be alone to think. As she closed the lid on her pianoforte, she decided she should find her fifth sister, Mahiru. She didn’t want her to return home to the tense atmosphere and be confused. She could explain the situation to her so she would be prepared at least.

She wrapped a shawl around her and she left the house. Licht thought of the different places her sister could be on the estate and she immediately walked to the stream. They loved to play in the shallow water when they were children and Mahiru still loved the spot. She could trust to find her next to the stream with a sketchbook on her lap.

Licht passed the horse stable and crossed the field to reach the creek that bordered their property. She stared at the grand manor that rested on the other side of the creek. Her mother said the Servamp family would move into the estate in a week. She didn’t agree with her plan to arrange marriages for them. She was a little curious about the family though. Even lost in thought, her feet were familiar with the path and she could walk to the creek easily.

In the distance, she could see her sister. Mahiru sat on a wooden swing that hung from the tree overlooking the lake. She didn’t call out to her immediately because she wanted to play a childish prank on her. She crept behind her sister so she wouldn’t notice her immediately. The moment Mahiru stopped drawing, Licht jumped forward and lightly grabbed her shoulders. “Surprise, Mahiru!”

“Licht?” She gasped and almost fell off the swing. Mahiru placed her feet on the ground and rocked her body back so she was looking up at Licht. “Is it time for lunch already? I was certain that the bell only rang ten times. I’ll start cooking. Is there anything particular you want to eat?”

The sisters would do the chores around the house to help save money. They had to depend on each other while they were growing up. Their father was often gambling and their mother only doted on Sakura. Mikuni’s efforts to save their family home inspired the others to do the same. Licht wanted to become a pianist, Misono helped Mikuni and Mahiru worked with the house’s staff.

“I came to warn you that Mikuni had another fight with father about the family estate. I didn’t want you to be blindsided when you return home.” The swing seat was wide enough for two people so Licht sat next to her sister. She lightly pushed the swing into motion with her feet and Mahiru mirrored her movements. She told her about their father’s will as they swinged slowly.

Mahiru stared at the sketchbook on her lap where she had drawn their house. They had countless memories connected to their home and she couldn’t think of leaving everything behind. “Father is still in good health so we still have time for the will to be changed. Perhaps, the title can be given to Uncle Toru. I trust him not to throw us out. I would prefer if Mikuni was given the house but it’s nearly impossible.”

“By the law of arrogant men, property cannot be owned by property. We are so much more than what they see us as. Women should be provided the same rights as men.” Licht spat. Her anger became a cunning grin and she said: “In the event that the house does fall into Haruto’s hands, we must welcome him with a feast.”

“Extending an olive branch could help us keep the house.” Mahiru nodded. “We can explain to him that it’ll be best for everyone to have Mikuni run the estate.”

“I had planned to poison his wine. We shall keep his death a secret and tell the lawyers that he is simply on a business trip. We can live in our home indefinitely. Though, we will need to find a safe way to dispose of his body.” Licht suggested. Mahiru knew that she was partially joking with her outlandish suggestion and she laughed. She wanted to ease the tense atmosphere with the joke.

“Licht, you must stop reading those gothic novels. They’re quite macabre. Maybe we can get away with your plan because the constable will not suspect women of being so ruthless.” Mahiru stopped the swing and she stared at the garden across the lake. “Do you remember how we would cross the creek to pick the flowers on Hanafield? It’ll be dangerous to sneak into the garden now that it’s being rented.”

“Well, the Servamps won’t be here until next week. We should pick flowers while we still can. No one will notice if a few goes missing.” Licht jumped off the swing and took her sister’s hands. She lightly tugged her off the swing and then pulled her towards the creek. A fallen tree reached over the water and they used it as a bridge.

“We shouldn’t trespass on someone’s property, Licht. We were young when we went to pick flowers from Hanafield’s garden and we didn’t know that they belonged to someone else.” Mahiru followed her sister even though she felt a little concerned. She had always admired how free-spirited Licht was. “We should only pick the wildflowers next to the creek.”

“Alright. But we should collect enough to make flower crowns for Mikuni and Misono and all of the horses in the stables!” Licht decided and Mahiru nodded in agreement.

They reached the end of the fallen tree and Licht held onto her sister’s hand to keep her balance as she stepped down. The wood was slippery but she wasn’t afraid of falling into the creek. Her slippers were flat and allowed her to walk easier than heels. The two sisters didn’t notice the horses grazing on the grass downstream from the log.

“You shouldn’t be trespassing on this land, Ladies. May we escort you back to the village?” A voice behind her caused Licht to turn her head slightly to see who it was. She took her eyes off the ground and she placed her feet on a loose tree branch. She felt herself fall backwards and her stomach dropped. Licht didn’t want to drag her sister into the water as well so she let go of her hand.

Mahiru called her name but her voice was quickly muffled by water. Between the cold water and the impact of the water, Licht was disorientated. She managed to turn herself in the water to see sister reach out to her but someone held her back. The layers of Licht’s dress made it difficult to swim to the surface. Her lungs burned but she knew she couldn’t breathe in as her body screamed for her to.

Suddenly, a warmth surrounded her hand.

Licht was pulled out of the creek and she could finally breathe again. She clung to the creek’s bank and took a moment to collect herself. A hand patted her back and she found it easier to breathe with the light touch. She wasn’t able to thank the person who saved her before Mahiru took her attention. Her sister knelt in front of her and immediately placed a shawl around her wet shoulders.

“Did you hit your head, Licht? Do you feel dizzy? We must take you to the doctor to see if you have a concussion or hurt.” Mahiru insisted. Even though she was the middle sister, she would mother her sisters. “Thank the gods that this gentleman was here to save you. Let me help you out of the water, Licht. Keep the shawl around you.”

Mahiru’s words made Licht realize that her clothes were soaked through. She was grateful that she wore a dark blue dress and it didn’t reveal anything. Licht tied the shawl around her shoulders before she took the hand Mahiru held out to her. She climbed out of the water and looked back into the creek. The man who saved her had his back turned to her and she assumed it was out of politeness.

“Thank you,” Licht said to him. The blond man turned to face her and she thought that he had a handsome face. He had jumped into the water to save her without hesitation so he was likely a kind man.

“We would love to speak with you gentlemen longer but I must take my sister to the doctor. She also needs dry clothes.” Mahiru interrupted them and Licht knew that she was right. They exchanged a polite goodbye as they left. Licht heard water splash behind them and she assumed the man had climbed out of the water. She wondered if she’ll get the chance to thank him for saving her and learn his name.

She grew up in the countryside so she knew most of the residents. Licht didn’t recognize him though. She looked over her shoulder to the blond man. He walked to another man and she recognized that he was the one to stop Mahiru from jumping after her. Their appearances didn’t resemble each other but the way they regarded each other reminded her of siblings.

Then, she overheard their conversation.

“Who do you think they were, Kuro? Their clothes are refined but their manner doesn’t reflect that. Her sister tried to jump into the water. I know she intended to help her sister but she wouldn’t have been able to do much. At least you were there to stop her. Which family do you think they belong to?”

“Hyde, you shouldn’t call her sister— Hyde?” Kuro yelled in shock when a slipper flew past him to strike his brother. His voice was drowned out by Licht’s rage.

“How dare you speak lowly of my sister, Shit Rat? Apologize or face me in a duel!” Licht yelled. She loved her family and she wouldn’t allow someone to disrespect them. She took off her other slipper to throw at him but her sister stopped her. Mahiru knew her words were far from a threat and she tried to pull her back. “Never step onto my creek again!”

Hyde couldn’t pull himself out of his shock to respond to her. He didn’t intend to insult her family and upset her. He wasn’t able to apologize before she was gone. Beside him, Kuro sighed: “That was a terrible way to introduce ourselves to the neighbours.”

[avversiera-writes]

‘till death do us part - chapter 7 [tobirama senju/you]

Chapter 7 - Make Him King

Summary: Tobirama gives Hashirama a chance to make it right. Unknowingly, pieces fall into place, pushing Tobirama to finally step up. 

Words: 3.4k

A/N: okay, somewhere in this series, i did say that Hashirama stepped down as Hokage because of his depression, his self-destructing way of gambling and maybe alcholism. I did not accept the fact that Hashirama's death was GLOSSED OVER, so I am slowly making preparations of how to go about it. Depression is serious, and it affects not only you, but the people around you. I hope I did it justice implying it here because you know this is the ninja world, there is no such thing as mental health to them apparently. I also did put in like little easter eggs that most of these characters here suffer a form of ptsd, exacerbated by the situations they are put in, but I will leave it to you to draw conclusions. Maybe it isn't enough, but the lack of evidence can sometimes be telling.

the Senju brothers will make up, they are siblings after all, and they have a really strong bond. these are just tough times.

anyways, get ready for the last chapter LOLLLLS 

cw // VERY SLIGHT knife? blade play??? listen to two weeks by fka twigs when you get to it HEHEHHE

available on AO3. 

<< Chapter 1 - Allegiances // Chapter 2 - Union // Chapter 3 - Love Like You // Chapter 4 - Look to the Horizon // Chapter 5 - Return // Chapter 6 - How to Steal a Crown 

While you dry yourself, Tobirama prepares hot tea and sets up the fireplace just outside the living room to keep the heat going. You settle yourself on Tobirama’s makeshift study in the living room, and study the ledgers he presented to you, and his upcoming plans that the village is gradually adapting. You sip at the hot tea, and thank Tobirama when he puts a thicker blanket on your shoulders and the two of you spend this late hour in silence, going over the papers that Tobirama arranged on the table. 

 “Tobirama, this is all well and good–amazing–really,” you praise him for his plans–they are more than what you can imagine. Tobirama has such an intelligent mind, and each time, he never fails to surprise you. “But, some of these take years and a lot of money to apply.” 

“I know,” Tobirama drones on. 

 “I do not know if the village will hold,” you say, trying to find the right words to express what is on your mind. “Appearance-wise, we are quite strong, but these...are incriminating evidence. Someone is always out there, looking for an in, a weakness, and technically, this is tyranny.” 

 Tobirama nods stoically, and his eyes darken. 

 “If someone usurps your brother’s place unexpectedly,” you begin, but Tobirama finishes your sentence. 

 “Then Konoha is doomed,” he concludes and he meets your eyes. You see sorrow and determination in them, his preparation to do the worst to do good.

 “Everything you have worked for, have fought for, will fall apart,” you affirm. “It is one thing to build these walls and these incredible infrastructures...but we are dust without labor and money and you know this already.” 

 You glance at your husband, wondering why you have to lay out his thoughts for him.

 Tobirama stands up and he starts to pace. 

“Tobirama, you know what to do,” you aver, and you set down the book you are holding. You watch the way his jaw tenses. “What are you waiting for?” 

 Tobirama continues to pace, and you can clearly see the wheels turning in his head. “He will never forgive me for this.” 

 You press your lips together, and you let out a heavy sigh. “Does this count as a coup?” 

 “What?” Tobirama snaps, his eyes getting fiery by the second. “Of course not. We can get a council together and vote. We’re not killing anyone.” 

You sigh in relief. “Well, good. You know you won’t stand a chance against your brother.”

 “I am glad to know that you have such unwavering faith in me,” Tobirama sneers. 

 “Okay, okay, calm down,” you try to pacify him. 

 “Stop joking around,” Tobirama commands. 

You gesture at him to keep going. You begin to fill your cup with tea again, but Tobirama takes the teapot and pours it himself. 

“I froze the village funds temporarily so that I can give back what was taken,” Tobirama says. “But it will not last.” 

 “My students are still in my family’s land,” you begin slowly. “I can write a letter and ask for some money to be delivered, if that can help.” 

 Tobirama nods, and he sighs in relief. “That will help. The other daimyos are still hesitant to loan money, and well, we cannot let the word spread too far.” 

“The daimyos love their money.” You sigh, and see Tobirama crack a small smirk. 

 “Now, obviously, this is a temporary solution,” you facilitate the conversation. “What are you going to do now? These plans...Tobirama, they require proper management and judgement, and from what you have told me, your brother is not up for this.” 

 Tobirama’s forehead knits in frustration. 

 “It is not betrayal,” you reassure him. “He will learn to forgive you with time.”

 “I will give him one more chance to get it together,” Tobirama asserts, but the both of you know well how things are going to go. 

You finally release a breath you have been holding. Things are happening too fast, and too soon. You are not ready to give up your husband for the village, but he is someone who never steps away from responsibility. Not when he has the means to make everything right. You wonder if you are encouraging another storm.

//

Tobirama leaves before lunch, leaving you alone in a messy house that for some reason refuses to make itself habitable. Despite your efforts of moving your stuff in, it still feels empty. For now, you just try to clean what you can without being too exhausted, and you peek into Tobirama’s study, trying to decide if you should touch anything and risk his lecturing about how particular he is about his things. 

You leave it alone for now, and you decide to wander around the house. You observe the garden, and the small pond in the corner, walk on the cobbled stone paths that seem to wind all over the place. The house seems very traditional compared to the small apartment that you used to stay in, that this transition to a bigger house makes you feel so little and vulnerable. You want to fill it up with something, but then you do not want anything unconventional in the house and alienate yourself from it. No, you want something inviting, and warm, a foundation to build a life on. 

 You are not much of a gardener, since you have spent more time holding weapons rather than flowers, but you decide to try your hand on it so that you can fill your time and occupy your mind. You go around the village, looking for simple decorations, and new curtains and bedsheets, seeds of flowers you want to try and raise, and you focus on your self-made tasks. 

While going around the market to shop for dinner ingredients, you spot Hiruzen talking to a lady with light brown hair, who seems to be looking at him, unimpressed, but you can spot the softness around her eyes. You decide to stick around, pretending to mind your own business, to observe what’s up, and when the lady leaves, you decide to approach Hiruzen, whose ears are slightly blushing from the encounter. 

“Hm, who was that?” You ask casually.

 Tobirama’s favorite student starts, and he turns to you, like you caught him red-handed. 

 You raise an eyebrow, and Hiruzen shakes his head, finding no reason to keep this a secret from you. 

“Her name is Biwako, she’s studying to be a medical-nin,” Hiruzen clears his throat. He relieves some of the stuff you are carrying. “How are you and Tobirama-sensei?” 

 You shrug, and you give Hiruzen a playful smile. “But I want to talk about you and Biwako.”

 “Sensei,” Hiruzen protests. 

 “Fine, fine,” you chuckle. 

Hiruzen seems to have grown older, it’s hard to believe that they were just pre-teens when you first met them. Now, he is even getting ready to date and it makes you almost nostalgic. 

 As you two near your home, Hirzuen’s face changes to a more serious one. He seems to be stringing the correct sentences to say. His forehead knits, and lips purse, and you sigh. 

 “Yes?” 

 “Tobirama-sensei met with my father and the other clan leaders,” Hiruzen starts. “Is something...wrong?” 

 You stare ahead as you walk, trying to think about how to go about this. 

“Your sensei will not penalize you for deducing on your own,” you tell him. “For now…” 

You stop short from the gate of your house, sensing a presence in it. 

 “I will take it from here, okay?” You send Hiruzen a reassuring smile, and take your stuff back from him. “I will see you soon.” 

Hiruzen’s puzzled look does not get better, but he does as you say and leaves. You enter your home and find your sister-in-law waiting for you by the engawa. You look around, trying to see if she brought her sons with her or her personal maids, but she is alone. 

 You set the rest of your things on the porch and you gesture inside to let her in. 

 Your heart thuds against your throat. Mito looks refined and elegant as always, and this is emphasized by the fact that the current state of your house is in disarray. You almost feel ashamed, but you note that the air she weaves around you is serious. You are not really sure how to act around her yet, but you remember her kindness towards you before your wedding. 

“I won’t be long,” Mito suddenly says. 

 You nod and avert your eyes as a sign of respect. 

“I know that someday your husband will be Hokage,” Mito folds her hands in front of her. “I did not imagine that it will come so soon, and in this way.” 

 “Tobirama is only trying to help,” you say evenly, but even to you, it sounds lacking and unconvincing.

 “Save your words,” Mito cuts sharply. “I will talk to my husband to step down willingly, if it comes to it.”

You look down at the floor. You hear her move towards the door. 

 “I hope that this does not cause a rift between us,” Mito suddenly says. “I do not hope to alienate you. I think we could be friends, if you choose to act on behalf of friendship. This is my hand being extended to you.” 

You hold your breath until she leaves, and you let it out, feeling the need to sit down. This is why you hated your husband’s politics. It suffocates and it hurts others even if you do not mean to. You wonder how Tobirama does it. He probably finds it fun despite the stress that it brings him. 

 You forget any thoughts of gardening for today and you search for your swords. 

// 

You twist the katana in your hand, slowly forcing the other half of your body to get back to working condition. It is not as flexible as before, but the pain is completely gone, and not even a visible scar is left. Focusing your energy at the point of the blade, you go forward and wind it back to strike at the air. Then, quickly keeping the sword in a straight line, you stab at the air, and your body fluidly follows to flip forward. You let your thoughts pass through you and you deliver them out, like an act of contrition.

 You flip your sword again, your wrist twisting to wind behind your arm behind you back, and you rest your blade on your shoulder blade. 

 Taking a deep breath, you wait for your heartbeat to steady itself. Sweat drops from your temple, from your neck to your chest, and the cool late afternoon that sweeps by immediately provides relief. 

 You feel Tobirama’s presence come up from behind, and you whirl around, unwinding your arm from your back, and you point your sword towards him. 

 Tobirama regards you, his face easing to a more smug expression. 

 You use the flat tip of the katana to tip his chin upwards, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow, anticipating your next move. 

 An inexplicable hunger tears through your body, and you bring your sword down to his chest, tracing lightly at the lines, until it stops short on his collar. The warm afternoon changes, and suddenly, your skin is humming and it flushes with heat. You watch as Tobirama visibly swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You undo his clothes by cutting the front of his yukata open, revealing his naked and defined torso. 

Biting your lower lip, you lightly press the sharp edge of your blade to the center of his abdomen, drawing blood, and the sight almost makes you light-headed. You do not know what has gotten into you, but it makes you want to drink in Tobirama and get your fill. 

“Everything is arranged,” Tobirama states, and he knocks the blade aside with his palm, catching you off-guard and seizing the moment to his direction. Then, he grabs the blunt edge of the blade and uses it to pull you closer to him. 

Your mouth latches itself to his mouth and you devour him, licking the neck muscle that juts out when he flexes his jaw, and you travel further down, to the base of his chest and suck the blood that you drew out. Your free hand grabs at one of Tobirama’s arms to placate him and prevent him from touching you, and you look up coyly, meeting his fierce eyes. Then, you take the blade to his neck, and regard him from a distance. 

 In this moment and in another Senju household, Mito is talking to Hashirama and she is trying to steal him back from the claws of the demons that live in the shadows of every contrived reality. 

 And you are getting ready to throw your own husband into the fire. 

 “And if it doesn’t work?” You ask, and you meet his eyes levelly. 

Tobirama finally gives the words life. “I will take up the mantle.” 

You lower your sword, your emotions and the pride you feel for him clashing against each other. 

“I haven’t had you for long,” you murmur. 

 Tobirama stands there, unsure of what to make of your comment. “Preposterous,” he snaps. “I’m not dying.” 

 You raise an eyebrow. 

“You understand the responsibilities it demands of me,” Tobirama explains as if you already don’t know. 

 Gods, you have spent so much time fearing for him over it. 

 “Shut up,” you whisper. 

You plant your sword to the ground, and you go to him and you capture his lips into yours. Tobirama’s hands immediately come to your waist, and he returns your kiss with the same fervor. You take his face into your hands, and you relay to him your heart. You open yourself more and more to him, and maybe it is reckless. Maybe you will lose everything, but nothing is set in stone. 

Tobirama presses your body against his aggressively, and he carries you in a swift movement, and lays you down on your back on the engawa. He violently pulls apart your clothing, and rips it off you. His mouth ravishes your neck, the dips of your collarbone. His hands fondle your breasts, and kneads your waist, and you writhe under him, his every touch making you more euphoric by the second. You close your eyes, and you arch your body towards him, yearning for him to take you. 

 You gasp out your want, and he presses a soothing kiss on your collarbone. You hear his breathing, loud and overwhelmed, and then, he fucks you senseless on the wraparound porch of your house. You stifle your screams, as they sound almost guttural, but Tobirama takes your wrists and pins them above your head as he grinds into you at a rapacious pace. He leans over, and kisses you on the lips, insistent and tender, and you let him in, closer, and even closer. 

 Your eyes snap open as Tobirama ruts against you, and your hips and your legs shake from pure ecstasy. You see Tobirama’s eyes, and you feel his desperation and the fight that he has yet to continue inside his mind. 

 You bite Tobirama’s shoulder as you come, and Tobirama fucks you through it, his hips snapping wildly, and you feel him unravel inside you with a growl and you keen, tears involuntary flowing out from your eyes. 

You gasp, as your high continues to make your body spasm–every touch sends jolts of pleasure that wipes your mind white. Tobirama leans over you to cover your body with his, not yet pulling out. He plants light kisses on your temple, your cheekbone and your ear, and he whispers your name, and three words that he always saves for you. 

 Tobirama has only said it once before, but he has said it to you more than anyone has.

Your fingers come up to brush his cheek, and you hold him closer, showing him that you heard him. You feel his fingers clutch your hair, and then he slides his hand under the back of your head. 

 He meets your eyes and you remember him like this, all soft and broken open for you. This is the Tobirama that you have always seen beneath his many and complicated layers. It took a while to pry them apart. You want to hope for the best, but maybe Tobirama’s pragmatism is rubbing off on you. You know that it is simply time. 

You crack a tired smile. “You say the worst things.” 

 The surroundings are dark now, but you can make out the amused expression on his face. “I did say it first.” 

You chuckle, and Tobirama hooks your legs around his waist, and then picks you up by sliding his arms around your back to carry you into the house.

//

The council is gathered in a closed off room somewhere undisclosed in the village. This is a meeting about Konoha’s village funds, and a scare tactic to make Hashirama get his act together. The council filled with the clan leaders are eyeing each other, sensing the tension between the two Senju brothers. 

 Tobirama jots down anything that may be of importance, and when the meeting is adjourned, Hashirama abruptly stands up before anyone else could move. 

 “Alright, what is this?” Hashirama finally demands. 

 “Brother,” Tobirama interrupts. “Do you not mind?” 

 Hashirama seems to have grown his claws around his brother. “I do not like what this council insinuates.” 

The days of fighting are finally weighing on the two of them. 

 Tobirama watches his brother carefully, and he looks down on the paper, unable to read his writing. Technically, they cannot really abdicate him without the presence of the fire daimyo, so he does not know what Hashirama is talking about. This was only supposed to get the village on his back. 

“Fine,” Hashirama snaps. “I quit. You be the Hokage then.”

The room erupts into chaos, and Tobirama stares at his elder brother, aghast. Hashirama storms out of the room, and Tobirama glances at the council, for once, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

 Tobirama chases after his brother, and they stop moving once they make it outside. 

 “Elder brother, I beseech you to take back your words,” Tobirama almost sounds pleading. “The village still needs you.” 

 “I single-handedly almost destroyed what we built,” Hashirama almost shouts as he whirls around. “You know well that you are the only one who is capable of leading it, of making the harder decisions I could not make.” 

Tobirama crosses his arms, and he falls silent. The air grows thick with their auras, but it is not to fight with each other. 

 “I do not want to lose anyone else,” Hashirama confesses brokenly. “This village means nothing if…”

Tobirama angrily says, “If Madara is not here? After all this time, you forgive him?” 

 “You and your paranoia towards the Uchiha!” Hashirama shouts back. “He was a member of this village and you actively opposed him!” 

 “I did what I had to do!” Tobirama snaps steely. “For you! For this village!” 

 “Keep telling yourself that!” 

Tobirama shuts his mouth, and he backs off. 

 A breeze passes by, carrying the sound of rustling leaves. 

Tobirama lets out a shaky breath. “Brother, please.” 

 Hashirama turns to walk away, and Tobirama clenches his fists. 

“I need you to be with me on this,” Tobirama begs. 

 Hashirama stops. “You never needed anybody in your life, Tobirama. That’s why our late father left you to your own devices. You do well on your own."

 “Elder brother,” Tobirama protests.

Hashirama turns his head to regard his younger brother. “I will always be there for you. You are my family, but you must remember to thank your wife. I did not give you this seat.”

 Tobirama’s eyes narrow, and he grits his teeth. 

 “She gave you that seat, and now, she will suffer because of you.” Hashirama walks away, leaving a stunned Tobirama. 

He watches his brother’s figure disappear in the distance, and an impossible weight places itself on his shoulders. He looks to the sky, but it does not grant any reprieve, after all, he did set the motion for these series of events, along with his wife. He only has his ways, and his undying loyalty to his brother and his family. There is no time for him to consider himself. 

This is the way he has made it, but for the first time, he does not know the right from wrong below the picture perfect goal of peace, and their village. There is him, in the middle of it all.

  To be continued...

Epilogue: The World As He Made It >>

[whumpinggrounds]

Febuwhump Day 25: Hostage Situation

another sub because i wasn’t vibing with car accident! also i’m stretching the definition of hostage situation just a little bit but bear with me - it basically applies. anyway, this is a bit more plot-relevant than usual so if you plan to stick around this is a semi-important one :)

tagging @shapeshiftersandfire and @killtheprotagonist !

CW: referenced pet whump, referenced lady whump

“You want to keep 067493?” If Director Hammond’s eyebrows could arch any higher, they might disappear into her hairline. Mara tells herself to stay strong as she meets that steely gaze. She nods, afraid her voice will crack if she replies aloud. “Ms. Langford, you must know how this looks to me.”

No longer can she get away with not speaking. Weighing every word before it leaves her mouth, Mara begins to make her case. “I understand that it looks like…well, like a case of reactive attachment disorder.” Mara gambles on making a psych joke she knows the Director won’t understand – all the more so because Mara is using the term completely incorrectly. “I just think…well, she isn’t being sold, and I think I could really do some good with 493.” Use the number, Mara tells herself. Try to make her believe it’s about wanting a pet. Not about wanting Jude.

“You mean she could really do you some good.” The Director seems supremely unconvinced. Taking a deep breath, Mara lays out her argument.

“WRU’s largest market is for Domestics, yes? And then Platonics, and then Romantics. Romantics are rarer because they’re expensive and, er, particularly suited, but Platonics, there’s just not much demand, is there? They make good companions for the elderly, good minders for children, perhaps a friend for the lonely, but besides that, the market is smaller.”

Director Hammond purses her lips. “Some have been known to purchase a Platonic as a cheaper alternative to a Romantic.” Her implication is clear, and Mara’s lips thin. Hammond might her boss, but that’s still a low blow.

“I…suppose. My point is that I think there’s an untapped market that you’re missing, and I think 067493 could be a good way to…to explore that.”

“Oh?” The Director flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Tell me, Ms. Langford, with locations in every continent save Antarctica and hundreds of personnel, what market, pray tell, do you think we’ve all missed?”

The Director is definitely irritated. If Mara wants to keep her job, far less Jude, she’d better make her case, and make it well. “Therapeutic aids.” Mara says it firmly, and with conviction. She at least thinks she has Director Hammond’s attention, and so she forges on. “Platonics intended for the elderly are often trained in rudimentary caregiving, yes? And all Platonics, and Romantics, for that matter, are trained to be agreeable and pleasant and friendly? What if…” Mara takes a breath, stretches the pause for a moment as she thinks. “What if we took that further?”

“Ms. Langford, I am running out of patience. Speak plainly.”

“There are people who pay for service animals,” Mara blurts, not making her case half as neatly as she’d like to. “Dogs, mostly, that can soothe them when they’re distressed or overstimulated. A person – a pet, rather – could easily and far more effectively serve that role if we trained them to do it. Ma’am.” She adds the honorific belatedly, searching the Director’s face for some sign of emotion.

“Interesting,” Director Hammond allows. “Go on.”

“Many mental illnesses have isolating effects,” Mara explains, voice steady, calm, completely professional. “A trained companion could provide relief from loneliness for struggling individuals, as well as assist with coping mechanisms. Dogs can be trained to provide physical reassurance to their owners or lead them to safe spaces where they can recover from a panic attack or meltdown. A human pet could do all of that and more. If one were trained to recognize facial expression and physical symptoms of distress, we could program a set of responses, perhaps with the owner’s input beforehand. A therapy dog with a much smaller range of abilities can cost fifteen to twenty thousand upfront. Some, upwards of fifty thousand, depending on the tasks they’re trained to perform.”

“A modified Platonic would retail for at least fifty thousand, if not more with the modifications you’re talking about,” the Director points out.

“A dog has about a decade of usefulness a service animal. A WRU pet can last a lifetime.” Mara allows herself to take a breath. Director Hammond is interested despite herself; Mara just knows it. “I know it sounds like I’m trying to get you to give me my ex-girlfriend. I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since Collins talked about that moment 493 had with Tracy Atkins. I just think that maybe…if I had some time with a pet, maybe I could…”

She’s all but holding her breath, waiting for the Director to speak. “Your idea is not without merit,” Director Hammond allows, after what feels like an endless pause. “But Ms. Langford, you’re going to have to make a stronger case than that. We do not let assets worth thousands go, merely for employee experimentation.”

“She’s damaged,” Mara points out, tipping her chin up. “You wouldn’t be able to sell her anyway, and if I could develop this program, it could make the company millions.”

“True. But why does it have to be this pet, Ms. Langford?” Hammond narrows her eyes. “Do not tell me that her past life is irrelevant, because we both know that’s not true.”

Taking a deep breath, Mara wades into the minefield. “Yes, she’s my ex. But Director Hammond, she also knows sign language – that’s a useable skill with a nonverbal owner who may use alternative communication methods. She’s damaged, and unlikely to be sold to anyone else. She has the same empathetic impulse she did before training, we know that much. I can work with all that. I can work with her. I know I can.”

The Director snorts. “And it doesn’t hurt that she looks exactly like the person you used to sleep with.”

Mara swallows. “No. I suppose it doesn’t.”

For a long moment, Director Hammond examines Mara through narrowed eyes. An eternity later, she drops her gaze to her desk and shakes her head. “Go, Ms. Langford. I’m sure you have work to do.” Hesitating, Mara opens her mouth to ask, but Hammond cuts her off. “As for your proposal…you’ve given me much to think about.” Eyes lifting again, she waves a dismissive hand at the younger woman. “So go. Let me do my thinking.”

A protest in her throat, hands clenched into fists, still desperate to keep arguing her case, Mara does, reluctantly, as she’s told.

[damn-stark]

All That’s Left Ch.3

Star Wars au

A/N- uhhh, I love how this turned out, I hope you guys like it too. Don’t be afraid to leave your thoughts and if you have any ideas or suggestion on the story that you want to see added, tell me.

Warning- Violence, mentions of blood, light swearing, SLOW BURN, Long chapter, soft Ben (somewhat)

Pairing- Poe Dameron x Reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

You look over your shoulder and smirk, “I’m lightspeed skipping.” Quickly you maneuver your hands around the control board, avoiding being hit by passing debris, ignoring Ben’s constant and annoying protests to your sudden actions.

Protest that became more persistent as the First Order was still on your tail. “Yeah, don’t worry I’m not going back.” Gripping onto the lever above your head you briefly shut your eyes in fear of the outcome, “Hold on! Last jump maybe forever!” With a boost of self confidence you push the level forward, seeing the familiar streaking stars from hyperspace for a split second before jumping into an unknown green planet.

Trying to make the landing as smooth as possible (not possible) quickly backfired as the Falcon crash-landed on the jungle covered planet, leaving behind an obvious smokey trail.

That was going bring unwanted attention...

Right as you tried to express your sort of positive outcome of this rough landing, your chair was spun around, coming face to with a furious Ben Solo. “That was stupid! You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon!”

You push yourself off your chair and stand inches from his face, shooting him a burning glare. “Looks like I did.” You grimace, “now move you scruffy looking tree.”

Shoving past him you leave the cockpit, expecting him to come storming after you, but he didn’t, instead someone else followed after you. Poe.

“If you’re going to scold me too, save it, I don’t want to hear it.”

“No, I was just—” Poe was immediately interrupted by the people you had totally forgotten traveled with you.

“What happened over there? Where are we?” Finn questioned.

Poe answered for you in a more excited manner than you had wanted. “Y/N, just got the First Order off us by Lightspeed skipping!”

Rey whipped her head in your direction with a narrowed gaze, “You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon!”

That’s excatly what Ben said...aren’t they cute.

You shrug as a response and excuse yourself from the scene to do anything but be with people. Leaving your mind to wonder now about who told the First Order about your immunity? It had to be someone within the crew. Who else would it be? Ben and you only talked about it inside this ship.

But who was it?

“It was you wasn’t it?” You heard Ben accuse bluntly.

You roll your eyes and turn away from the part of the Falcon you intended to fix. “What?”

“I told you not to tell anyone about your problem and you did.” Ben seethed as he walked up to you. “Now the First Order is after us!”

“I know,” you sighed deeply, “but I didn’t tell them. Why would I?”

“Let me make one thing clear to you, my father and you got bit. He died and you didn’t. Whatever death wish you may want from the first order, save it! Your life is not up to gamble. We’re doing this whether you want to or not.” He turned to walk away, leaving you with your head hung low, but with a dangerous confidence.

“You know what, no!” You bellow, “do you think you’re the only one who’s lost people because of this stupid virus?!” Ben stops, but doesn’t turn to face you. Instead you storm up to him and all he does is stand and listen. “I lost my sister because she got bit! The only person I ever had!” Your voice cracks but you try to hold your tears in, try to feed off your anger.

“At least you have more people that love you! A mother to go to, a friend you trust! I don’t have anyone anymore. They’ve either died or left me, all because of this stupid virus. So, don’t come at me with that shit. I feel bad already.” You swallow thickly, “but I want to help because of people like your dad and my sister.”

Ben swallowed thickly, frozen where he stood and again no expression really on his face, just the one he always seemed to have, a default expression. Brooding. The only thing that did move were his eyes, like if he were speaking millions of words within them. A familiar expression that your brother would do too. Never really letting people know what they were going through unless you really paid attention.

And just like Armitage he left without saying a word. Leaving you alone.

——

“At least you’re my friend, right little droid?” You smile as you glance down at the little orange and white droid. Who by the way had chosen to follow you out to collect water.

The little droid chirps in agreement, making you smile wider. The sight of your smile faltering at the sound of branches breaking behind you—their shouldn’t have been a reason to be so paranoid since you weren’t alone anymore, but your mind was still used to that feeling. That and well their were dead lurking around.

Regardless you take out your blade and spin around only to face Poe. “Are you following me?” You tease while putting your blade back, letting come with you to the lake you heard not far from where you....crash-landed.

“You have my droid.” He answered, “I didn’t want you taking him.”

You scoff and shoot him a side glance, “he’s my only friend, I’m afraid to say...after what I did, people are angry at me.”

“I was joking.” He quickly interjected, clearing his throat to follow up on your previous comment. “You did crash the ship....”

Your shoulders drop and a frown replaces the smile you seemed to carry before.

“But,” Poe continued, “it was impressive.” Your breathing hitch’s and you lift your head to watch from the corner of your eye, “You got us out of danger, can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, because I would have.” From the corner of your eye you saw a charming smile on his lips, his eyes focused on you for a brief second before focusing on the path ahead. “I guess you were true to your word when you said you were a good pilot.”

You smile and hide the fact that your cheeks were burning at his very innocent compliment. “Don’t you have someone else to talk to?”—Way to go! “I mean your friends or girlfriend.”

Poe’s eyebrow quirks and he looks at you with a puzzled gaze, “I can’t talk to you?”

“I just mean,” you stammer as you keep busy crouched down trying to collect water, “well...”—stars

Poe tries to not be hurt by what you said and tries to interpret it as what you meant to say by that weird comment. “We’re part of the same crew now, that makes us friends...unless you prefer to be like Ben?”

You glance up at him with an amused smile, shaking your head in disagreement, “no.”

“Then that’s why I’m talking to you. We’re friends.” He shrugs all nonchalant, taking the jug of water from you to carry it himself. “Plus I find you very easy to talk to.”

You smile shyly, his compliment once again making your cheeks burn hot. His compliments overall just making you giddy—mostly because you weren’t used to people complementing you. The only person that did was your sister, but it wasn’t the same as when other people did it. Especially not people like him.

“Where did you learn how to do that by the way?” He continues to ask as the three of you began to head back to the Falcon. “Lightspeed skip I mean?”

You shrug, “things you pick up when you’re living on the run...that and reading pilots logbooks surely help.”

Poe gives a short nod as a response, his eyes drifting to the depths of the jungle as if lost in thought for a moment until something clicked. “Back there in Takodana, did you know what General hugs was talking about? I mean they were after us and I’m sure it had to do with what he mentioned, because I doubt they would care if a crew like us just decided to leave.”

Your demeanor falls and you find it difficult to find any words or a good lie. “Uhh well,” You stammer nervously, “maybe they just—” sudden thick drops drip onto your forehead from above, making you cut yourself off to wipe the drop off with your fingers. Something that was obviously not rain...

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you bring your fingers in front of you, the red glistening blood tainting them making you confused and making you look up to see where it came from. A look of horror now expressed on your face as you saw a demon on the branch above, it’s mouth chewing on something unidentifiable.

Without making a loud commotion, you grab onto Poe’s arm and tug his sleeve to stop him from continuing any further; He looks at you perplexed and right when he was going to question your odd behavior his eyes followed your line of sight. His own fear shown in his eyes as he saw the danger you both were in now. And that fear only worsened when the demon began to climb down the tree, slowing crawling your way.

“Don’t move.” Poe whispered as you both froze in place. Watching the demon stand on its two feet making you hold your breath, flinching as it snapped its bloodied and caved in jaw in front of you, his blood red eyes looking straight at you, making your breath heavy and feel sweat beads form on your forehead.

You knew it couldn’t hear you but you couldn’t muster up any words, just panicked breaths. Only letting your eyes flicker to Poe’s every other second out of fear. From the corner of your eye seeing Poe pull out his blaster to shoot said demon, and when he was about to try, the demon let out a blood curdling scream, that bringing out more dead from within the jungle.

“There’s too many.” You muster up, “we won’t be able to take em all. We have to run.”

Poe looked between the demon, slowly walking to hold your hand in his, to pull you with him in moments notice. “BB8, when I say run, you run or roll like hell, got it bud?” Poe advised his little friend, his eyes then landing on you, “You too, got it?”

“Got it.” You nod, feeling his hand tighten around yours, feeling like your heart was going to jump out.

“Run!”

Without needing to repeat himself you all began to run, seeing as Poe dropped the water you had collected and noticed that the movement definitely caught the attention of the demons that were now chasing after you—and while you were sprinting towards safety or the best thing that was, you never thought you’d be happier to see Ben Solo, ever.

Ben didn’t share your same happiness, especially not when he saw what was after you. He urged Poe, BB8 and you to get inside the Falcon, but a couple of the demons had caught movement around and inside the ship, rushing towards Ben and some of the crew that was working on said ship outside; causing them to avoid rushing inside in order to keep those inside safe for now.

The bigger problem now was that Finn, Ben and Zorri were now running from the danger. Everyone now trying to find somewhere to hide in, or at least some place where you were going to gain the upper hand. But for several minutes or what seemed to be hours neither of you stopped running, or looked back, you just kept sprinting to get away from the dangerous threat—only because neither of you fell and well everyone knew that if you stopped and faced the demons head on, then their will be no tomorrow, and your whole mission to be the galaxies hope was going to be ruined.

Luckily though something came to view, buildings that almost blended with the rest of the jungle, and that you would have missed if Poe didn’t point them out.

“Quickly, go!” Poe bellowed, pushing you forward inside the base while he stayed behind and made sure everyone was in first, his heavy breathing turning into panicked breaths as the demons got closer.

His girlfriend urged him to hurry and get inside as well, but the gate was stuck. He looked over his shoulder spotting that they were only getting closer.

“Come on you damned thing!” He stressed while he kept trying to pull the gate down, flexing his muscles to use all the strength he could. “Come on, come on!” Finn, Ben and zorri took out their blasters to help Poe out and keep him from getting hurt, making you mentally curse yourself for not having one. All you could do was regrettably watch from behind, hoping that no one would get hurt.

Until finally the gate budged and Poe slid under, letting the gate drop and cut the hands off a demon that tried to pull him off. That and well securing this place for now.

“You got something on your boot.” You breathed, in some way trying to ease the situation and pull the attention away from the pounding on the gate.

Poe glanced at his boots and shook off said thing before sliding down and catching his breath. Letting everyone but Ben do the same. Noticing as his eyes would glance to you as he paced back and forth with his hands balled at his sides.

“If you have something to say. Say it.” You muttered, making Ben stop in his tracks beside you.

Ben exhaled deeply, his eyes narrowed on you for a moment too long. Your first thought was that he was going to get you in trouble for the trouble Poe and you brought, but instead Ben took out a blaster he had holstered at his side—his face never softened, nor did his lips show a smile, or something that represented one, but his eyebrows weren’t as furrowed and well his glare didn’t look like it could kill you. Instead he actually looked to the ground seeming to be nervous about something.

“Take it,” he said dryly, the blaster he had out for you to take. “You need it.”

You looked at said object and then blinked up at him in surprise. Not only because he was being somewhat kind, but he was offering you the blaster you saw his father have...once. (Here you thought he was going to shoot you.)

“But..”

“You don’t have one,” he interrupted, “you need it, or the next time you end up in a situation like this you’ll die.”

Well so much for being nice.

Carefully you extended your hand out and reached for it, your hand somewhat shaky from the previous events and the thought of this being some sick joke.

“Thank you.” You stammered while very carefully taking the blaster from his hand, noticing how quickly he turned away, but also noticing how his face turned serious and hard. Like if he had something else in mind.

“We need to find a way out,” Finn pointed out. “A way that doesn’t involve us crossing paths with those flesh eaters.”

“I recognize this place,” Poe added as he jumped to his feet, not taking long to wonder around the abandoned base. “We’re on a resistance base in..Ajan Kloss.” Poe stood by a big covered table and removed the sheet that spread over it, dust and dirt flying off as he threw it to the side revealing a briefing table. “Theirs tunnels that run under the different base buildings. They were built just in case the first order tried to surprise us. I just need to find the map...” he trailed off as he walked around the table in search for something.

Your mind also wondering off his comments at the mention of the first order, slight guilt taking over your thoughts.

“Would their be fuel here?” You later asked, catching the attention of Poe and Finn.

“Yes,” Poe nodded, “but not in this room.”

Just as you were going to add something else, Ben decided to interrupt. With a not so pleasant subject. “I need to know first. Who gave us off to the first order? It was one of you that much I know.”

“Ben, don’t.” You warned sharply.

Ignoring you, Ben continued, his eyes bouncing from Poe, Finn and Zorri. “All for what? Credits? Food? Fuel?” He swallowed thickly and took threatening steps towards the intended group now fully paying attention to Ben. “All things you could’ve gotten in time when we got to base. But one of you decided to go behind my back and share what was meant to be a secret.”

Ben’s eyes fixated on each suspect, his gaze narrowing, and dark eyebrows furrowed, giving off that same look that looked like he wanted to read each and every thought in your mind. It was an uncomfortable look to be under, and it would be even more uncomfortable if one of them was guilty, which....one was.

“You.” Ben mouthed, his eyes leaving Finn’s and focusing solely on Zorri. “I can feel your fear...you’re nervous...guilty.” He slowly walked towards her, or close enough to her as he could before Poe stood in front of her protectively.

“Leave her alone, Solo.” Poe warned.

A warning Ben ignored and one, Zorri took for granted as she pushed him aside and stood proudly in front of Ben, showing no fear—even if Ben contradicted her otherwise.

“You put all our lives at risk.” Ben seethed, “revealed something that was not yours to say. It was meant to be a secret for her own good.” He didn’t say names but no one needed to be told who it was he referred to. It was obviously you. “You put her life at risk. Now because of you the first order will hunt us down.” Ben’s eyes shifted to Poe, showing him a burning glare. “Here I thought you respected my mother, but now I know you don’t.”

“He wasn’t a part of it.” Zorri interjected sharply, “it was all me. I told the First Order of your girls immunity.”

Poe eyebrows knotted as he snapped his head towards Zorri’s direction, his face expressing pure betrayal for his girlfriends actions.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his fists slightly shaking at his side as he snapped at her. “Now because of you, the whole galaxy knows the value we carry. Everyone who wants to be allied with first first order, and who wanted what you so badly needed will be after her! You’re a selfish lowlife—”

“Ben!” You snapped, his eyes instantly falling on you and stopping whatever nasty comment he was going to tell her. “Just leave her alone.”

Ben’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, studying your face, trying to read what you were thinking, or why it was that he instantly stopped on your call. Why he felt the need to listen to you, and why he felt himself ease by a simple look.

Whatever it was, it passed in a flash, and instead of continuing to torment the girl he spun on his heels and stormed away, in the process using his...force abilities to slam a chair into a wall of computers. Making you flinch at said action, watching as he disappeared in the shadows in search for...well who knew. Leaving Zorri to follow after an angry Poe, in attempts to talk or apologize for what was revealed, but an excuse he didn’t want to hear, he just dismissed her with a sharp whisper. Ultimately leaving only Finn and you to look for the map.

It was quiet and awkward at first, neither of you speaking just having to hear Zorri and Poe “quietly” arguing. It was VERY uncomfortable so Finn started the conversation in attempts to at least make things less tense.

“Immune, huh....how did it happen?”

Pressing a computer back to life your eyes shift to meet Finn’s, “a corpse came out of nowhere and surprised me...that’s the shortest version I’ll share without having you hear me talk for hours.”

Finn chuckled as he looked at the files you were searching for over your shoulder. “You seem familiar, you know...have we met before?”

You shoot him a side glance before continuing. Now in more nervous manner. “Uhmm...I don’t think so.”

Finn stayed quiet for a moment, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his eyes on you. The awkward silence once again falling over the both of you, hearing the couple arguing, and the pounding on the gate from the demons still surrounding the area.

“Now I know. You were part of the first order, weren’t you?”

You immediately freeze at the mention, keeping your eyes downcast, unable to focus on him out of fear for what he was going to say next.

“I was FN-2187. You weren’t in the trooper academy but I would see you hanging around.”

You slowly slid your eyes to meet his, a sad feeling hitting you at passing memories. “I don’t like talking about it...it’s not a part of my life I’m proud of.”

“Is it anyone’s?” Finn chuckled.

“I can name a few people that think it’s their greatest life story.” You respond, pushing down what you felt and managing a faint smile.

“Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you look back to see Ben standing by where he had disappeared to moments ago, a not so amused look on his face when he saw Finn and you talking.

“I found the way to the tunnels, Dameron mentioned. Let’s go.”

——

“Is it just me or do these tunnels give anyone else a bad feeling?” Finn’s voice was heard behind you in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, I have to agree with you buddy. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Poe responded.

Having no other option but having to stay close to Ben, you took advantage of the light provided by his..lightsaber, to check out the weird carvings these tunnels were made out of.

“Just stay focused, we’re almost out.” Ben deadpanned, ignoring the shuffling sound that was heard further into the tunnel. A sound that made you take out the blaster Ben gave you.

“Staying focused.” You whispered in a shaky voice, swallowing thickly the more you continued down the dark tunnel. Moments later having to come to a quick stop before bumping into Ben—before you had the chance to even think of a remark, you saw what caused the noise before.

Stormtrooper Corpses.

Dangerous, only because they had armor other corpses didn’t—they seemed to be busy eating the serpent that made said creepy tunnel. But that didn’t even grant you access to the exit they were blocking.

“Dameron, you get the one on the far right and I go for the one on the left.” Ben ordered in a soft whisper, said man he was ordering nodding without question.

“What about me?” You probed.

Ben turned to meet your gaze and shook his head. “You, stay here.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms over your chest, having no other option but having to watch Ben and Poe sneak you up on said corpses. Both men successfully taking them out.

Right as Ben was going to motion you over to the intended exit, by pure luck you caught glimpse of another white helmet sneaking up behind Ben—Without saying a word you raised your blaster, aiming for the corpse, but in doing so, making Ben’s gaze narrow at the immediate thought that you were going to blast him, until two blasts shot the corpse trooper behind him and contradicting his thoughts.

The last deadly shot hitting the troopers throat and making it drop by Ben. “I guess you were right,” you smiled, “I did need a blaster.”

“Nice save.” Poe complimented when you passed by him to go towards the exit. Only for your smile to fall and your mouth be left agape at the sight of a swarm of demons inside the destroyed base. “There’s too many of them.” You muttered, your head snapping towards Ben who gave the same reaction as you, but in a more discreet way.

“We have to—” the sound and sight of blasts hitting the swarm of demons multiple times cut Ben off, all of you looking to the sky expecting to see the Falcon killing the demons, but ending up even more shocked when you noticed it was a TIE fighter.

That sight and the sight of...Snoke’s ship coming out of hyperspace outside of the planets atmosphere making your heart drop.

“Is that-that Snoke’s ship?” Poe asked while his eyes remained wide in surprise.

Now that the space was clear, the rest of the group walked out and wanted to find a way to return to the Falcon. But before you could even think of moving, the sight of Ben keeping his gaze locked on the main ship caught you off guard, making you turn back to catch his attention.

“Ben, we have to go. Come on!”

Ben eyes broke away from the ship in the sky and landed on you, himself looking in disbelief at what he had happened. That look though turning into a serious demeanor when he saw the TIE that landed a few feet before you.

The rest of the crew backed away and fell by yours and Ben’s side, a gulp expressed by you when stormtroopers marched out of the ship. A look of pure fear expressed in your eyes when you finally caught sight of the red head walking out behind them, someone you dreaded to see, the man you never wanted to cross paths with especially with what happened the day before.

Armitage.

Armitage eyes instantly found you, a smirk making it past his lips as he spoke in a cold voice, “Hello, sister.”

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Tagged- @thescarletknight2014​​​​ , @lanatheawesome​​​​ , @yodaboo​​​​ , @geo-winchester​​​​ , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​​​​ , @mamanoota5​​​​ , @peachdameron​​ , @roserrys​​ , @too-lit-for-fanfic​ , @jimpyknees​ , @softly-sad​

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care​ , @commondazy​

[liloelsagranger]

Chapter 7: Navigation of memory - Viridian Love Story (pokémon fanfiction)

My dear friends,

it’s been so long ago since I last updated my current fanfiction. Let me tell you why: My mother spent 60 days in hospital and 30 days in rehabilitation. She suffers from a severe liver cirrhosis due to a hepatitis she had as a child.

I visited her every single day and sat at her bedside. The doctors in my hometwon gave her 2-3 more days before she would die and my father and I were able to get her to a better hospital just in time, where she slowly made progress. It was terrible to see how my mother was feeling bad and she could hardly do anything on her own anymore. But now she is feeling much better, she is walking again without aids and has regained some courage. Nevertheless, she is on the waiting list for a liver transplant and I am in the test phase to see if I am a suitable donor. That’s why I was hardly ever active online, but that should change now, because I still love Team Rocket, there were simply more important things in the last three months. I hope you understand. Thank you!

Now, enjoy the new chapter!

«What’s the story with Mew?” Ash spoke up. Jessie and James exchanged meaningful glances. They weren’t sure if they were allowed to talk about a top-secret project of Team Rocket. After all, they would pass on confidential data to third parties and thus risk their jobs. On the other hand, they had long since gambled away another pardon from their boss.

“Go ahead!” Jessie let James go first. He cleared his throat, still not sure if he would enter forbidden territory.

”Giovanni has been working for years on his so-called Mew project. The goal is to find clues and possible whereabouts of this legendary Pokémon. To do this, they interview dozens of people to find out more and get to the bottom of Mew. Anyone who is questioned in a lengthy interrogation is then arrested and shipped off, because they don’t want important information to leak out. Only a few know the exact whereabouts of the deportees and the rumors and stories circulating about them make your blood run cold.” Team Rocket felt in error. The disclosure of such important information would have an aftermath.

Misty could not believe that there was a faint hope of finding her parents alive. “Where are the deportees taken to?” she wanted to know. Jessie and James were humming and hawing, they didn’t want to get more involved. Slowly, Misty’s patience tore. “Come on, guys! You know exactly where my parents could be! So pull yourself together and do the right thing for once” she demanded.

James sighed. “To find them we would have to break into the main base on a pretty deserted island that is not easy to reach. It is surrounded by high fences with barbed wire. Surveillance cameras have been installed everywhere. They can control every single spot on the island, stop intruders and lock them away. It won’t be easy” he explained.

“Why would you break into the main base? You guys work for Giovanni. Don’t you have a member card or something?” Ash thought there something fishy about the whole story. “Sure we would! But we’ve been suspended, because apparently, I screwed up!” Jessie threw an angry look at James. “Please, stop arguing now! There are more important things right now. For once, can you help us and bring us to this island? I’d be much obliged” Misty did not ask for much. She clung to the last straw of her almost extinguished hope.

Team Rocket turned their backs on them. “Brief review of the situation” Meowth whispered. “Should we help them or should we let them fidget?” Jessie and James considered their options. “The twerpette is looking for her mother, I can understand how it feels to be completely alone in the world, this loneliness can seriously drive you crazy. On the other hand, we have been suspended and another faux pas is out of question. We would have to be even more careful and rely entirely on our spying techniques. Do you think we could bring them in?” Jessie looked into the round. James nodded. “We have already mastered many hurdles. Just think of the Training Days many years ago. We were so inexperienced and green behind the ears, but we still passed with flying colors. Over the years we have acquired innumerable distractions, we can make ourselves practically invisible and nobody would notice that we are sneaking into the taboo area. Maybe we should risk it and should we finally loose our jobs, yes then you know my answer, then we will build up our own business.” He smiled gently but could not win Jessie over yet. They turned around. “We’re going to help you!”

“So is there a truce between us?” Ash asked. “For now,” Jessie shook his hand.

Team Rocket led the young students towards the harbor. There they would board a Rocket transport vehicle disguised as a cruise ship. They took two cabins and would only talk to each other under certain circumstances and when it was really necessary. They were not allowed to attract attention, but Jessie, James and Meowth had some costumes in their luggage that would help to hide their identity.

When Misty, Ash and Brock headed for the dining hall in the early evening, they were welcomed by a brightly lit room. The smell of delicious food wafted towards them, so that their mouths watered. They sat down at a round table a little aside and waited for the promised welcome drink. At the piano, the entertainer showed his talent and invited guests who had already dined to a slow waltz accompanied by violins. Nothing reminded of an undercover mission of Team Rocket. The guests chatted and enjoyed themselves, food was brought on silver trays. Men and women were treated to the most delicious meat and fish dishes they could find on the menu. “Are they serious?” Misty had to refrain from laughing when she discovered Jessie, James and Meowth in their seemingly unremarkable disguise. Jessie and James were dressed as if they came from a Puritan village. Meowth sucked on a pacifier and had a bib on. Ash rolled his eyes. “So much for not attracting attention!” They laughed.

For James the evening went on endlessly. No matter what Jessie was wearing, he could never take his eyes off her. She was a real beauty, even in rags and he was an absolute fool for having missed the chance. Jessie hardly paid any attention to him but stared at the dance floor and the many happy couples, who seemed so carefree. At some point, James could no longer stand the tense atmosphere and left the dining hall under the pretext that he needed some fresh air.

James reproached himself terribly. How could he deceive Jessie like that and put all the blame on her? He was pathetic and a real comrade pig. He had let her down several times before, but this time he had really screwed up. She was hurt and angry and wouldn’t forgive him so easily, even though he had saved her from the ghost Pokémon. It was up to him to smooth things over. A fresh sea breeze blew through his lavender locks. From far away he could see the harbor of the forbidden island. Each time, it reminded him of the time in Maiden’s Peak, where Jessie had for the first time indirectly admitted that feelings were involved in her rescue operation. James had been obsessed with this deceased beauty and he and Brock almost fell victim to a joking Gastly. James enjoyed reminiscing about their time in Kanto. They were still young and wild and had their whole life as beginner criminals ahead of them. He and Jessie had spent so many nights together, talking, laughing, and sometimes even crying when the situation was simply overwhelming. He found comfort in her and was able to unload his whole burden of the past on her. She listened patiently and could understand only too well how a messed-up childhood made them both what they are today. They were so similar, they simply belonged together, and James wished with all his heart that this strong bond between them would be reborn.

“Am I disturbing you?” Brock had approached him. “There’s quite a lot of air between you and Jessie, right?” James nodded his head but remained silent. “I don’t want to interfere with you too much, just this much: you two are meant for each other. I understood that already as a teenager. You were an unbeatable team, you supported each other and even if you got into each other’s hair, the waves were soon smoothed out. You won’t believe how much I wanted such a relationship back then. You are one heart and soul, and nothing can separate you, not even a stupid argument over trivialities. Tell her how you feel, tell her that you’re sorry and tell her better too early than too late. Please, don’t loose her, you guys are a perfect match!” With these words Brock turned away and left James standing at the railing. “Thank you” the Team Rocket agent muttered and took new courage.

Just as he was about to turn around, Jessie came towards him. It was time to ask her for forgiveness. His breath stopped, he was so nervous. “Jessie, can we talk?” A gentle smile played around her lips, but she shook her head. “Not yet.”

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up

Summary: With Neil going into septic shock, Claire is desperate to try anything that might save him. Now she just has to convince Dr. Lim to do the same, and see if her gamble will pay off. Starts after the conversation about religion.

A/N: I have very little medical knowledge, so I'm skipping right over the surgical bit. This is just a short, quickly written little one shot because I just finished s3 last night, and I just cannot deal with that. I'm sure there will be more Melendaire to come though, because I desperately need them.

Idk if y’all are interested in this but figured I’d tag yall @shaunthegooddoctor @neilrnelendez . If y’all (or anyone else) want to be tagged in any future TGD fics (in which Neil will never die before he’s 80) let me know :)

WC: 1651 | Read on: AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

“Claire, he’s got severe sepsis,” Audrey commented, her expression beyond sad. “Even if he did recover, he’d be immunocompromised. He’d never be allowed back in an OR.”

“‘He’d be alive ,” Claire protested, desperation creeping into her voice. “Dr. Lim, are you really going to deny him a life-saving procedure just because his quality of life might decrease?”

Audrey hesitated, trying to figure out what she would do if this were any other patient. What if it was a stranger? It  was too hard to imagine. What if it were Andrews? Or someone who wasn’t so deeply entrenched in her heart? But it was no good, she just couldn’t untangle her feelings for Neil.

“Please, Dr. Lim, just let me take it to Melendez and see if he wants it,” Claire pleaded. “If I talk to him…”

“No,” Audrey interjected firmly. She pulled the resident aside, to a miraculously empty patient’s room. She dropped her voice, no longer speaking as Chief of Surgery, but woman to woman. “Claire, he will do anything you ask him to, even if it’s not in his best interest. He won’t care, he’ll do what you say without batting an eye. You have to know how he feels about you.”

“I…” Claire stammered, not sure how to answer that. Being in love with your boss was awkward enough, but it was even more so when his ex-girlfriend was his boss and the one standing in front of you arguing about how to save his life.

“It’s okay,” Audrey soothed. “It doesn’t bother me. I care about him immensely, but it’s different with you. He’s different. It’s fine, I’m not in love with him. But you are, Claire, and that means you can’t be impartial about this. You’ll do anything to save him, and he’ll agree to anything to make you happy. That’s dangerous.”

“Then you talk to him about it,” Claire bargained, not giving up that easily.

“Frankly, I don’t think I’m impartial enough,” she replied, fixing Claire with a wry frown as she considered the options carefully. This was the hardest part of being Chief, putting aside your feelings to make big decisions. “Murphy just got back to the hospital. Tell him your idea and have him pitch it to Melendez. Without you in the room. If Neil consents I’ll get Andrews to do the surgery.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Audrey cut her off.

“I can’t do it, Claire, I just can’t. Andrews may not be as good as me, but he’s still a damn good surgeon,” she said, attempting a joke.

Claire nodded and scurried away, on a mission to find Shaun as fast as possible. Time was of the essence, after all.

o . o . o

She sat in the chair reserved for family and friends, bouncing her leg up and down, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her clasped hands. Waiting was agony, and she needed it to be over. She needed to know, one way or another, what was going to happen. But mostly she needed him to be alive.

Claire’s eyes flicked from his body, laying complacent on the bed, to the monitors that were beeping his vitals. Still no change. Which was good, because he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t awake yet either.

She lost track of how long she had been sitting there, waiting for Neil to wake up. Exhausted, she was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, not quite sleeping, but not entirely aware of the room around her either. She didn’t see his eyes flutter open, just narrow enough to see her figure sitting there, holding a vigil, the rosary she’d gotten for him tightly clasped in her fingers.

“Geez, you’d think I was dying or something,” Neil quipped, his voice barely a whisper.

Claire’s eyes snapped up, meeting his and taking in his full, conscious state. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his eyes were hinting at their usual sparkle. Neil was awake, and his vitals were still good. She felt like hyperventilating and crying with happiness. He was going to be alright. She stood, hands still clasped in front of her face, tears building up in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” he beckoned, his tone soothing.

Claire obediently crossed the little room until her thighs bumped against the hospital bed’s mattress. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and rest her head on his shoulder, sob her relief into his papery gown. Neil reached for her as much as he was able, only strong enough to lift his arm a few inches from the bed, but Claire caught his hand in one of her own, sitting down softly on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his throat still raw and dry from the surgery. “Shaun told me it was your idea.”

“Thank you for doing it,” she whispered in reply. Suddenly, Claire felt overcome with guilt. Had she been selfish to insist on this procedure? He was alive but it might have changed his whole life, and not for the better. “You might not be able to operate again though.”

“I know,” Neil replied, nodding slightly, the oxygen tube bunching under his chin at the motion. “But there are worse things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” she sniffed, having trouble believing that there could be anything worse for him than a life on the sidelines.

“Like never telling your friend that you’re completely in love with her,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if he was asking god to give him the courage to say what he needed to. Or maybe he was just in pain, his abdomen had been carved open hours earlier, after all.

Claire tamped down any hope she felt at the statement. He had, after all, stopped her when she’d tried to tell him about her feelings earlier in the night. Why else if not to save her the embarrassment of confessing her love to someone who didn’t reciprocate? Even if it had saved his life, she was still a fool for falling in love with her boss.

“Claire?” he asked, looking at her significantly as his voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Was ‘friend’ too vague? Should I have said ‘star resident’ instead?”

Well there was absolutely no way he was talking about Morgan.

“Me?” Her voice failed her, but it didn’t matter. He understood.

“Yeah, you,” he whispered, a shy smile appearing. “I love you, Claire.”

“Ohthankgod,” she breathed, her body relaxing a little at his words. “I love you too.”

“I know,” he answered, confident in a way that only Neil could be. “Why else would you try so hard to save me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but they both knew there was some element of truth to it. She loved him so much that she just couldn’t let him go. She smiled and snuggled in next to him, encouraged by his words and his prognosis. After that night, she just wanted to hang onto him and never let go.

“Claire?” Neil said hesitantly, brushing his nose softly against her forehead and following the touch with a gentle kiss over the same spot.

She craned her neck to look at him, smiling at him to prompt him further.

“When I get out of here, I don’t want to take things slow.” His expression was thoughtful and sincere, conveying that he meant every word he said with utter certainty. “I don’t mean physically, that’s… I’ll follow your lead, and there’s no rush there. Hell, my doctor may not clear me for much exertion for a while.”

They both grinned at the stupid joke.

“But,” he continued, “I don’t want to hide things or take it one day at a time or anything like that. Which is maybe stupid, given how many relationships I’ve killed in this hospital. But I know you’re different, Claire, and I… I just want to be with you.”

“You sound like you’re about to propose,” she teased, mostly because she wasn’t used to hearing him take that tone. Sure of what he wants, but nervous how she might react.

“If I had a ring, I might be tempted,” he replied, laughing a little. “But you can go ahead and take the spare apartment keys that are in my office, because I want you there as much as you want to be. Always, if I’m really honest.”

“That sounds nice,” Claire answered, fighting a yawn.

Despite her desire to stay awake and continue their conversation, exhaustion was finally catching up with her now that the adrenaline had worn off. She wriggled a little bit until she was lying on her side, her arm draped over his chest so that her hand could curl around the far side of his neck, and one leg resting gently on top of his. Neil slid his arm beneath her ribs, wrapping it around her waist so he could hold her tight as she dropped her head against his chest, savouring the feel of his heart beating.

“Get some sleep, Claire. I love you,” he whispered, even as she was already drifting off into a dreamland, and he pressed a kiss into her curls, breathing deeply. He was more than content holding her like that, falling back asleep with her small frame clinging to him.

Dr. Lim appeared in the doorway to check on her patient, smiling at the setup she found. Quietly, she backed away, sliding the glass door just so that the couple wouldn’t be disturbed. They’d had a long road to get to where they were, and they would have a lot of challenges ahead of them. The least she could do was give them one night of peace, where it didn’t matter that he was an attending and she was his resident.

[kathyprior4200]

The Seven Deadly Episodes

“Episode 1: That’s Entertainment!”

(See Hazbin Hotel, That’s Entertainment!)

Charlie sings her lament “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows.” Followed by “Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow” followed by “Alastor’s Reprise.”

(See also “Helluva Boss”)

 “Episode 2”

Part 1: Group eats Alastor’s Jambalaya and first customers arrive at the hotel. Vaggie works as a manager, Charlie and Alastor greet people at the door. Razzle and Dazzle and Niffty help with carrying bags to the rooms.

Charlie sings a happy song (“Things Can Go Well in Hell”)

 Part 2: Sir Pentious goes to Baxter and gives him technology and money in exchange for making him stronger Egg Bois and repairing his ship.

Baxter sings (“Science and Solitude Serenade”)

Sir Pentious sings a victory/anticipation song as his new inventions are made (“I’m Sssso Evil!”)

Part 3: Vaggie gets mad when Niffty, Angel, Alastor and Husk mess things up. Husk drinks and gambles too much, calling her a bitch, Niffy brings the wrong food to the rooms and Alastor knocks her down on purpose. And Angel’s antics and pole dancing make her mad. Alastor assaults Vaggie, slaps her butt and gropes her. Vaggie becomes jealous when Alastor and Charlie dance and hang out. Vaggie loses it when Alastor does radio dad jokes on stage. Angel leaves to see his family and prepare for the next turf war.

(Vaggie sings a ranting song: “I’m Gonna Kill Them”)

 Part 3: Valentino gets angry with Angel for not giving him money, resulting in a harsh “punishment” that was both arousing and deadly. Angel is further humiliated when Vox puts it on TV and Velvet shares it around social media. Henroin, his father, abuses Angel afterward, calling him a gay sissy druggie, while the white spider mother, Acknida, looks on.

Black furry brother Aracknis says to Angel and Molly they are slutty loser twins. Angel and Molly comfort each other and start the next turf war with Cherri vs Sir Pentious and Baxter, much to his gray furred father and older brother’s disgust.

Angel sings a lament/whimsical song about feeling stuck but trying to keep fighting and pursuing his ecstasy pleasures (“Fuck My Life…Dust Myself Off”)

The next battle is harder and Sir Pentious is almost victorious (“No Alastor to save you this time!”) Sir Pentious shoots a blast that destroys most of a city and lots of demons. Cherri tosses a bomb, causing the ship to crash toward the ground. (“My turf, you scrambled shit eggheads!”) She manages to blow up several other metallic egg bois before getting shot by Sir Pentious, knocked out. Molly and Angel scurry over to the base and blast Sir Pentious backwards, while making more sex jokes. The two of them manage to knock him out and declare West City theirs. Baxter heals Sir Pentious, stuns Angel and escapes via a smoke grenade, back to his lab.  Katie and Tom Trench share this on the news, Tom making dirty comments about Cherri and Molly. Molly watches in horror from behind a cliff as Vox and his demon minions drag an unconscious angel back to the studio (to be later brainwashed by Vox and Valentino.)

 Part 4: In a dramatic twist, Lucifer enters the hotel to see what is going on. Lucifer notices Charlie trying to rehabilitate demons and shakes his head. He criticizes her for being involved with Vaggie and trying to “hinder (his) routine/family tradition of instilling fear and suffering.” Helsa and her green brother Adrian (Charlie’s ex) also arrive to further mock Charlie and assault her plans.  Adrian tries to get back with Charlie by scooping her up in his arms…but Vaggie points her spear at him and he lets her go. Charlie explains why she broke up with him and encouraged him to see the good in people. He just scoffs. “It’s me or nobody,” he said.

  Charlie goes to talk with her parents in private. Lilith gets back from a concert performance and modeling shift.

The Magne Family sing a song called (“Royal Problems are Shit)”

(Charlie sings about wanting to redeem sinners, Lucifer sings about wanting to keep up his fear inducing reputation and Lilith sings about how busy she is and how she wants to spend more time with her family).

 In private with her parents, Charlie argues against the exterminations but Lucifer said it was part of an agreement between him and God: reduce the population so Hell wouldn’t be a threat. In exchange, the angels wouldn’t harm the royal family. The problem is…Heaven is elite and only chooses those who truly redeemed themselves and embraced God. Lucifer thinks Charlie’s plan won’t work 1 because the ridiculous idea would make the family look like a weaker joke and 2 he secretly worries that if Charlie redeemed sinners, she would go to Heaven with them, thus leaving her parents and kingdom behind.

(Brief backstory about how Lucifer met Lilith and fell from Heaven. “Demons never get second chances, Charlie. They’re destined to suffer like I did. Unfortunately, redeeming sinners is only half the hard part. Getting them into Heaven would be near impossible if they didn’t match up to certain standards.” Charlie, in tears, is still willing to try.)

No one notices a shadow spirit overhear their conversation and pass the information back to Alastor. He lets out a low laugh and says “Stay tuned,” (roll credits). Extra scene of the egg bois shooting each other with Sir Pentious’ ray gun, the overlord chasing after them in anger.

  “Episode 3”

 Charlie wonders where Angel is. Molly races to the hotel and tells them the news. Charlie and Alastor and several other demons volunteer to sneak into Vox’s lair and rescue Angel. Vaggie is left behind, fuming, Charlie had said “Vaggie we need someone to help protect the hotel.” Vaggie said “You wanna rescue that pervert, fine, but don’t expect me to give you any advice on where to get spears.”

Charlie apologizes and says her advice would be helpful. Vaggie gets another one from the black market, keeping her own. She gives it to Charlie in secret, saying “hold onto it, don’t let anyone else have it. And be careful.”

Molly recruits a porn-loving teen rebel Hellhound, Crymini.

 Charlie, Molly, Crymini, and Alastor and the group sneak into the studio. Vox has Angel hypnotized and orders him to attack. Vox then uses the time to brainwash the population with sex and propaganda on TV. Soon, everyone is hooked to the screens, giving Vox extra energy. Alastor encounters his rival and they both engage in a brutal fight over Hell. Alastor summons Niffty to fight Velvet and Husk to stop Valentino from violating Molly. Crymini fights off the minions of the three Vs.

Charlie briefly battles with Angel, his eyes red lines like Vox’s. She conjures up fire and notices the spear. She slices off a wire hooked to Angel’s head and breaks Vox’s possession by setting the spear tip on fire with her fingers, trapping Angel in a fiery pentagram, gently inserting it in the spot between his eyes, and chanting a Satanic cleansing ritual in French. (She learned that from Lucifer after he explained what could happen if she “took shit from other demons”).

Alastor and Vox are equally matched. Radio waves and TV screens clash throughout Hell. “TV killed the Radio Star begins to play, causing Alastor to start losing, even resulting in him being electrocuted in a tangle of cables. Niffty defeats Velvet with Molly’s help and a distraction from Cherri Bomb (escaping through the red smoke). Velvet gets up and brushes off the fire from her clothing.

Valentino, knocking Husk away says “Angel, baby, submit to me or I’ll kill you…or better yet, make you watch as I “mess” with your friends live on TV!” Angel’s eyes briefly turn into hearts…nearly under his control… “And you can say goodbye to your pathetic Happy Hotel!”

Husk offers to gamble against Valentino, the winner gets Angel. They gamble as the two overlords fight, outside. Husk wins but Valentino noticed him cheating. Before Valentino can unleash his full power, Vox and Alastor unintentionally ram into him as they fly through the wall and windows.

Lucifer, a flaming blue deer overlord, and a black spider overlord arrive to end the fight. Just before the fight ends, Alastor lands the victory blow, shattering a hole in Vox’s TV head and knocking him to the ground. Lucifer warns Vox and Alastor that he can send them into the void if they cause any more trouble. Both nod and separate. Vox goes back to the studio to get repaired and Valentino promptly fires Angel and takes his money. Now Angel suffers from withdrawal but Charlie helps him out. She reminds him of all the good things he has done…saving his friend’s lives, caring for his family, and working hard to stay clean.

Katie and Tom tell about the event on the news and their ratings go sky high.

 Katie and Tom visit the hotel at the wrong time. Charlie sings a cheesy song to Angel, Alastor, Husk, Niffty and Vaggie and the other demons (“Redemption and Rainbows.”)

The other demons laugh and Alastor laughs and claps. Charlie is once again, humiliated on the news. Catie joyfully calls Charlie a failure, as her plan hadn’t worked yet, making Charlie mad and upset again.

 Later Angel thanks Charlie for saving him and thanks Husk for saving his sister. Husk gradually warms up to everyone and even tells Alastor and the group about his time in the Vietnam War. It was revealed that Vaggie had told Charlie’s parents what was going on, (thus risking her life if she made a wrong impression to Lucifer) thus ending the battle and saving the area.

Many weeks later, Charlie excitedly announces that Angel, Vaggie, and maybe Husk are ready to go to Heaven.

 In private, it is revealed that Husk and Niffty sold their souls to Alastor in hopes of easier lives. Niffty, under possession, steals Vaggie’s spear and gives it to him. For the first time ever, Alastor frowns and cries…because of several reasons. 1 he discovers that his mother is in Heaven and that (in his mind) he cannot be redeemed and he can’t go see her…he’s a lost cause, as Lucifer had told him. 2 If he continued on with his plan, it would hurt Charlie and put their friendship on the line. His shadow overtakes him and his grins again, saying “Stay tuned” and eating a severed demon head.

 “Episode 4”

Charlie, Vaggie and the others sing karaoke and Angel Dust does some pole dancing (he makes Alastor try some moves much to his embarrassment.) Angel poses on a counter as a “tasty meal” while Alastor tries to “cook” him with a flamethrower. The new motto for the hotel made by Alastor “Come in and die… (Charlie quickly adds): “…of fun!”

Although Alastor had defeated Sir Pentious, made jambalaya for the group, encouraged Charlie along the way and helped in the battle against the three Vs, he also was up to no good. (The only one suspicious being Vaggie).

When Lucifer didn’t approve of Charlie’s idea, Alastor said Charlie’s idea was nonsense but then mentioned that he wanted to help her run it due to being bored. “Lucifer, you seem to be awfully hard on her a lot. Why so serious and strict?” Luicifer replied, “None of your fucking business, freak show. You don’t know what’s best for her. I told her not to trust any demons…especially the suspicious ones.” Alastor says with a (fake) pleading voice, “Please Lucifer sir, give Charlie a chance. I’m only here to help her out and protect the hotel.” Lucifer threatens to kill Alastor if he harms Charlie and Alastor knows not to mess with him…so he calculates his next move in his head.

He does other things as a trickster:

Alastor stirs an argument between Husk and a bunch of Hellhounds over who won a rigged card game.

Aastor broadcasts murders, Hazbin Hotel events and dad jokes for comedic effect.

He calls Niffty in to wake demons super early to rapidly clean their rooms and serve them (misplaced) breakfast meals.

Husk hordes the liquor and wine for himself and Alastor doesn’t say anything.

Alastor invites Mimzy and Rosie, his fellow music friends over for a show, even inviting Charlie to dance and sing “Your Never Fully Dressed” on stage with him. Vaggie glares in envy much Alastor’s amusement, though Charlie doesn’t notice.

To ignite Charlie’s anger and desire to see her goal to the end, Alastor causally suggests to the Eldriches to give the hotel a bad review and to harass “your familial rivals.”

 Charlie meets up with her friends to go to her mother’s Resist concert. Later on, a family feud begins between the Magnes and Eldriches. It is revealed that the Eldriches had posted bad reviews about the hotel and that Katie Killjoy helped spread the rumors about the “Hazbins.” Charlie is about to fight them, but instead tolerates them and treats them as guests like the other demons coming to the hotel. It is here that Charlie matures and tries hard to see the good in everyone…but she also learns not to trust many demons (ironically trusting Alastor more as he helps out).

 Alastor plans some more before he says “Stay tuned.”

 “Episode 5”

Alastor’s plan slowly comes into being. He decides to stay behind 1 because he hasn’t been redeemed and 2 to heed to Lucifer’s concern about the dangerous archangels. (He still only cares for himself and isn’t in love with anyone.) Charlie and her friends reach the Heavenly Gates but are judged by the army of Archangels upon arrival. Only a few rich demons have access to Heaven and they turn into humans with wings or friendly bi pedal animals. The group barely escapes with their lives until Lucifer arrives and saves them…disintegrating the angels.

Charlie cries and tells everyone what happened. She reconciles with Vaggie but Lucifer interrupts them to take Charlie aside. He loses his patience and slaps her when she summons fire around her.

Charlie’s parents had been right about it being nearly impossible to get into Heaven but Charlie refused to give in. She argues that everyone deserves a chance and bursts into tears. Lucifer said “Maybe it’s for the best” to which Charlie replies “No it’s not!” Lucifer realizes that God and the Archangels are planning to arrive in several days. God and the angels think that if “redeemed” sinners entered Heaven, they could cause chaos and be spies for those in Hell. Heaven wouldn’t be able to use their effective fear tactics of killing demons once every year to reduce the population.

He believes that if Charlie hadn’t started all this, then maybe the mess wouldn’t have occurred. One of the angels appears to Lucifer and orders him to destroy the hotel in order to not encourage redemption from sinners who “deserve to suffer and stay in their place.” Lucifer complies (much to Lilith’s and Charlie’s protests) in order for the archangels to spare him and his family. (thankfully everyone is outside and the hotel is repaired later.) Charlie swears at her parents and runs away.

Charlie sings another lament (“Rainbows Fade Away”)

Outside, Alastor comforts Charlie after she’s upset that her plan failed. Charlie adds “I bet you’re happy that you finally got to see sinners fail.” Out of spite, Charlie steals her father’s apple staff and gives it to Alastor. Alastor takes Charlie into an empty radio studio. They kiss and share a song and dance. Charlie is assured that things will turn out right in the end.

Niffty captures Vaggie and Husk captures Angel while under Alastor’s spell. By the time Vaggie and Angel break free and get away, Charlie is nowhere to be seen. Niffty and Husk turn back to normal and apologize to them, explaining how they had made deals with Alastor in exchange for easier lives in Hell.

Alastor sings a jolly electro swing song called “Are you Ready?” (“Are you ready to change the world, dear?)

 But then the song changes and Charlie soon realizes she’s in a trap. Alastor grins and holds up a knife…then it shows a brief flashback of a human Alastor murdering his victims in a forest. “Are You Ready” quickly turns darker. (“Are you ready to suffer and fail, my dear?”) Charlie finds herself surrounded by the shadow spirits. She tries to fight them off but Alastor lulls her to sleep and holds her prisoner in his interdimensional lair. When Alastor sees Charlie crying and saying “I trusted you!” he feels an odd feeling of guilt for his betrayal. He later holds her a spear-point in front of Lucifer and Lilith. Lucifer threatens to blast him to bits but Alastor offers to make a deal. The deal was: Charlie’s life and safety in exchange for the throne. Alastor orders both her parents to shake on it. Lilith does first and her dark power flows to Alastor. Lucifer engages in battle with Alastor but stops when a powerless Lilith is being choked by black tendrils.

Charlie rescues her mother and escorts her to a safe place. Alastor defeats Lucifer, takes his dark energy and soon takes over Hell.

 God and the angels noticed Lucifer’s actions and would later send more Archangels down to cleanse one-fourth of the population, a larger number than before. The demons declare war. The overlords briefly work together to slow down the Archangels, Michael, Gabriel etc.

Alastor briefly enjoys slaughtering demons and angels to his heart’s content. (Alastor’s shadow had wanted this all along…for Alastor to release the dark shadow spirits and voodoo imps to consume the souls of demons and roam as they please. Alastor, the whole time, had let himself been manipulated by his shadow self.)

Alastor says “Stay tuned.”

 “Episode 6”

Alastor later shows a change of heart when he notices Charlie and her friends struggling to fight the angels and overlords. He realizes that if he continues to be consumed by bloodlust and restlessness, than he will never see his mother and lose his only friendships with Charlie and her friends. He fights off his evil shadow and redeems himself…but his staff breaks, restoring power/souls to Niffty, Husk, and Charlie’s parents and making him powerless.

 Charlie later frees Niffty and Husk and Alastor helped (once he fought off the evil influence of his wendigo shadow). Alastor defeats his shadow but his microphone staff breaks…leaving him powerless.

 The final battle between Heaven and Hell. Lucifer and Lilith fight Michael and the other archangels. Lucifer has a change of heart and vows to help Charlie, once he realizes that sinners can be redeemed if the rules are changed. Those who die twice get sent to the void.

Alastor says “Stay tuned.”

 “Episode 7: That’s a Wrap!”

In the end, Charlie and Vaggie go to Heaven and get married. Charlie becomes a mediator between the two worlds, having black angel wings and helping with redeeming sinners. Vaggie watches over people who get reincarnated back on Earth or helps them prepare for the void. Angel turns human-like and goes by Anthony, his human name, though he still enjoys Angel Dust. Vaggie discovers her human name; Vagatha and she turns into her Hispanic human self with dark wings. Husk discovers his human name: Hustle (for now) and turns cat-like with friendlier features. Alastor gets redeemed and turns into a light-blue suit wearing man with a light brown deer face, (with human hands) who reunites with his mother in Heaven after more than 100 years. Husk/Hustle finds new love in Heaven and Anthony/Angel, Molly, become role models to kids in Heaven. Lucifer and Lilith stay behind to rule Hell, their powers restored, but Charlie can visit both worlds. God agrees to let more people into Heaven after they proven themselves through various tests in the other Circles of Hell. The purges finally come to an end…a truce.

Alastor says with a laugh, “That’s All Folks…Or Is it?”

 Note: This is if no one dies and everyone lives happily ever after. Who will actually survive, both in the show and in the unofficial episodes?

 (Niffty was actually evil but that’s another story).

Charlie finishes with a final song (“At the End of the Rainbow”)

 Bonus Backstory Episodes!

Angel (“Deviance, Drugs, and Determination”)

Alastor (“Murder On The Air”)

Husk (“The Game of Life”)

Vaggie (“Salvadorian Fighter”)

Niffty (“Hyperactive Romantic”)

  Episode 1 (OST) (18 tracks)

“I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” (song)

“Spider Provider”

“Fifty Shades of Egg”

“Please Don’t Sing”

“Professional Bitch”

“Charlie’s Monologue”

“Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow” (song)

“We Have a Gay Spider”

“One Little Brawl”

“In the Arms of an Angel”

“Hey Mom”

“The World is a Stage”

“The Radio Demon”

“A Real Surreal Deal”

“This Little Darling is Niffty”

“This Little Darling is Husk”

“Alastor’s Reprise” (song)

“Sir Pentious Fucking Dies”

Episode 2 (UOST)

“Who Wants Some Jambalaya?”

“Things Can Go Well In Hell” (song)

“A Snake Returns”

“Evil Scientist”

“Science and Solitude” (song)

“I’m Ssso Evil!” (song)

“Life at the Hazbin Hotel”

“I’m Gonna Kill Them” (song)

“You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile” (song)

“Embrace Your Punishment”

“Familial Addicts”

“Sinister Spider Senses”

“Fuck My Life…Dust Myself Off” (song)

“Turf War Take Two”

“666 News”

“The King Arrives”

“Rich Eldritch Bitches”

“Royal Problems Are Shit” (song)

“Lucifer’s Fall”

“I Have To Try”

“Shadow Spies”

              Episode 3 (UOST)

“Molly”

“Angel In Distress”

“Deadly Weapon”

“Crymini”

“Porn Studios”

“The Three Vs”

“Vile Victory Villains” (song)

“TV Time”

“A.I. Angel Attacks!”

“Washing the Brainwashing”

“Brawl of Two Overlords”

“Take a Gamble”

“Happy Valentino’s Day”

“Calvary of Kings”

“Lucifer’s Warning”

“There’s Good Inside You” (song)

“All News Is Bad News”

“Redemption and Rainbows” (song)

“More than a Husk”

“They’ll be Heaven-bound!”

“Two Unfortunate Souls”

“Conflicted”

“A World of Entertainment”

          Episode 4 (UOST)

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel” (song)

“Hazbin Hotel”

“You’ll die of fun!”

“Clash of Authority”

“Hounds of Hell”

“Radios, Husk, and Angel Dust”

“Housekeeping!”

“I’ll Hold The Wine”

“You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile!” (song)

“Seeds of Doubt”

“What next?”

“Resist” (song by Lilith)

“Hell Band”

“A Real Killjoy”

“Rumor Has It”

“There’s Some Sunshine In Everyone”

“Foreshadowing in the Shadows”

Episode 5 (UOST)

“Strip For a Tip”

“Over The Rainbow” (song)

“Preparation For Paradise”

“No Sinners Allowed”

“Angels of Death”

“I…Failed?”

“Parental Problems”

“Everyone Deserves A Chance!”

“Broken Dream”

“Rainbows Fade Away” (song)

“Apple Of My Eye”

“You’re Not Going Anywhere”

“Appeal For Deals”

“Are you Ready?” (song)

“Creole Lullaby” (song)

“I Trusted You!”

“Do We Have A Deal?”

“Vengeance Is Best Served Burning”

“This Means War”

“Your Darkest Thoughts”

 Episode 6 (UOST)

“Alastor’s Choice”

“Souls Are Freed”

“Part of Him Is Gone”

“Final Battle”

 Episode 7 (UOST)

“At The End Of The Rainbow”

[onstarsandiron]

Band AU Outline

Because where else am I going to put this?

[Lol I made it long, it’s under the readmore]

Scene 1 is Jax is trying to get coffee for his shitty boss and this asshole bumps into him, spills it all over him, and has the goddamn nerve to not stick around. Jax doesn’t know how he feels about the $50 bill casually thrown at him before Asshole runs off

Scene 2 is Robb arriving late to after school rehearsal and smelling faintly like coffee and his stupid brother is there and sneers at him because Eric is sooooo perfect and Eric gets to be the one that plays the violin, the instrument that everyone likes, and Robb is here playing the bass. Well fuck you, Eric, because Robb’s a damn good bass player and he actually likes how it sounds, thank you very much. If he’d gotten stuck with the viola he would have killed himself; he’d literally be second fiddle to Eric.

Scene 3 is Jax on his lunch break talking to Ana about their bassist or something I think? 

Scene 4 is Robb secretly practicing his electric bass in a quiet part of the mansion, like he always does, playing along with youtube videos and learning whatever he feels like

Scene 5 is Jax arriving at the venue and finally feeling the stress of the day wash off a little

Scene 6 is Robb arriving at the venue; he’s got a genuine ticket, but he brought his electric bass to try and say he’s part of the opening act or something and get backstage to try and get an autograph (maybe got dared to get one?) This goes, of course, wrong when the stage runner insists on personally seeing him to the correct dressing room saying they’ve been looking for their goddamn bassist all over the place, where the fuck have you been? and just shoves him in 

Queue: “YOU!” “Me?” Robb studied the other’s face, looking for where he’d know those features from. Suddenly it came to him. Oh. Oh no. Coffee boy. “Oh no,” Rob said, unable to help it, “Me.” 

Robb fucking OWES Jax for that bullshit, he may have payed for replacement coffee, but you can’t pay for replacement dignity, and that was his FAVORITE sweater. What’s that instrument he has? A bass? Fucking good because Barger is a no-show and they’re on in 15. 

Ana’s drums, Di does keyboard and synth, Jax is lead (only) guitar and lead (only) singer -- Di cannot carry a note to save the galaxy and Ana gets too excited and just ends up screaming more than singing (you physically cannot stop her from doing this, mind you, so mostly Jax just doesn’t give her a mic. It helps only so very much. To be fair, it is Ana’s band, so she has a certain right to do whatever she wants) They are the Dossier [Idk if I wanna include Xu and Elara in here yet; if I do, Elara’s a techie and Xu is additional tech support + Social media manager/marketing/gig booking/etc]

Queue the gang tearing up Robb’s pretty boy outfit to get grungier bc if you believe Ana started some kinda new wave bullshit band full of crooners you’re goddamn wrong. They do loud hard rock and you can die made about it. Also Jax applies Robb’s eyeliner and Robb has never had a more intimate moment with an individual without actually touching one another in his life. 

Then there’s the show. Lucky for Robb they’re playing all covers and it’s stuff that he knows. unluckily for Robb, it’s completely different to playing quietly in his tucked away chamber to youtube videos. He makes do, though. 

He’s kind of mouthing along to the words he knows and then he’s singing them quietly and then he’s singing them outright and then Jax notices and somehow there’s now been a mic placed in front of him and he’s become backup vocals now and if he believed in fake things he’d think Jax was actually pleased about this. Wow, performing sure makes your heart beat hard.

Then they’re taking a bow and off the stage before he even knows it. He thinks now he’ll be shooed off, but actually they let him watch the actual concert with them and then there’s like an after party and they let him tag along and actually he has a really good time (He gets that autograph he wanted too lol)

Like a week later he gets a call from Ana -- Di had made him sign a goddamn liability waiver including personal and emergency contact info -- and turns out that Barger skipped town for reasons which are genuinely undisclosed but 99% probably because he has a gambling problem. They need a new bassist. He worked out well in a pinch, does he think he can make practices monday at 7? 

So that’s how Robb starts sneaking around to be in this band and play little gigs here and there and it isn’t the sort of places anyone from his circle would be involved in and it isn’t so big that he’s so very worried about an internet presence (he does “”Shyly”” hide behind his hand when Di tries to get pictures for their social media). Robb like tells his mom he’s doing some extracurricular thing and turns his phone off and pays off his chauffeur to say nothing

There’s probably some cute scenes or clips of outings or something. They go thrift shopping to get Robb some actual stage clothes, they hang out with Ana’s moms, they don’t talk about Jax’s parents ever and don’t mention that Jax pretty much lives with Ana or the rotating cast of personnel through the house, there’s heart-to-hearts, there’s laughs, there’s drama, there’s friendship blossoming, walls breaking, truly incredible stuff

Then comes the inevitable. The day of the Big School Concert is also the day of the big Battle of The Bands or something. It’s some sort of contest where they play some songs and then they play one they were like assigned and they were assigned Space Oddity and one thing is that the judges are really looking for those strings but Di’s synths just aren’t cutting it; they’re timing and intonation just aren’t right. So Robb is like “Okay, you can’t ask any questions, and I’m going to be like on the wire BUT I will be there and I will bring strings. You have to trust me.” 

And then it’s Robb’s concert, and bananas things happen and he gets out of there with the bass and we’re switching back and forth between everyone being antsy and worrying and Robb booking it with this big ass piece of shit on his back and he’s in the back of the car fucking up his $300 suit. Maybe there’s a run-in with Eric? I kinda really want him to show up a little worse for ware for Jax to fuss over. 

And Jax and Ana and Di are like Bass??? Suit???? Hair half slicked back??? Are those LOAFERS??? Is that a BLACK EYE?? [one of the judges later asks the same thing and Robb just replies “We are a grunge band, ma’am]  But there’s no time to fuss! Because he rolls up literally like two minutes from going on stage!

They rush out and they play their song and it’s magical and fucking gay and Di’s going fucking ham on the piano and the whole room is vibing. Then they play a couple more songs or something idk I don’t want to like ruin this emotional high but I do need to justify the electric base being there for the next bit which issss

Di and Ana shove Robb and Jax into the dressing room and they FINALLY make out. And it’s amazing and heavy and full of emotional and physical catharsis and it’s just exactly what everyone -- robb, jax, the reader -- needs. 

And then there’s a knock on the door. Followed by “Robbert, darling, are you in there?” 

And Robb’s blood goes cold. Because of course Eric told his mother. Of course he forgot to turn his phone off. Of course, just as he finally has the things he wants, what he’s been craving for all his life, here comes his mother reminding him of what he is supposed to be. 

“What’s wrong?” Jax asks, “Who’s that?” But Robb can’t bear to say a word. It’ll all become obvious in a minute anyway. All he can do is hope that the sadness on his face shows, for once he wants his stupid face to show his goddamn emotion to the one person, and that Jax will know that’s how he really feels and won’t take this next part too personally. 

His parting words are to hand his electric bass to Jax and say, “Here, can you keep this safe for me? Valerios aren’t supposed to play these sorts of things.” 

And before Jax can say anything Robb turns away and makes his face a mask and replies, “Yes, Mother.” 

The door opens and there stands his mother, graying hair pulled into an elegant bun, still in the dress from the recital. Eric stands there too with his sharp suit, looking as if their tussle had never happened and like he didn’t need to wash blood off his rings. There were also a couple of men in suits, some of his mother’s assistants. One entered unceremoniously and silently took the bass from the room. 

“My dearest, whatever are you here for? I believe we agreed to a dinner at your favorite restaurant for your recital tonight,” it was Eric’s favorite, Robb hated the place, “This event was not on my itinerary.” 

“I apologize for the delay, Mother,” Robb said, as if he’d made them wait five minutes instead of running off across town and surely ruining their evening, “I owed a debt, and as you know that cannot be outstanding.” 

The barest hint of anger flashed over her face; she absolutely hated when he threw Valerio Family Names items back at her. He must have been hanging around with Ana too much, because he found himself relishing in having made her mad. The flash was gone almost before it was there, though, and her face was cool once more. 

“And what, pray tell, did you owe to these... people,” his mother said, eyeing Jax in a way that made Robb so angry he could feel the white hot rage in the center of his chest. But he was a Valerio, and he knew better than to show it like Ana was allowed to. 

“Did you not catch the show, Mother?” Robb asked, protectively stepping between her gaze and Jax and praying that it didn’t show his cards too thoroughly, “They required some strings accompaniment. I lent them some. Our transaction is done, I have no more business here.” 

He had so much more business here. He had results to hear. An after party to go to. Pizza to eat. Jokes to laugh at. A boy to kiss. 

But now all that business is done for. Who wants to hear results for a song played by a liar? Who wants to go to an after party or eat pizza or tell jokes with a Valerio? Who would want to kiss him after seeing who he really is: a spineless wimp who is doomed to live and die by his mother’s whims. This whole arrangement was doomed from the start, and he always knew it. He was just too happy to let himself know that. 

His mother was clearly displeased with him, but what was new? “So I see,” She said at last, “Well then, come along, no need to tarry in this... venue.” 

“Of course, Mother,” Robb said. A cool nothingness washed over him. He knew his lines. He knew his place. This was who he was. 

Robb left the room, not sparing Jax a single look over his shoulder. He told himself it was because his mother would certainly notice, and she would, but really he couldn’t bear to see whatever expression Jax was wearing -- betrayal, shock, anger? It would only break his heart further. 

As he left the room he now saw that Di and Ana were looking on in shock. Apparently they hadn’t stepped too far away. “Hey!” Ana yelled, “What’s going on?” 

“Did you not hear the entire conversation about what’s ‘going on’?” Erik asked, and Robb wanted to punch him again. Apparently Ana wanted to too, because Di instinctively reached to hold her back just as she began forward. 

“And who is this, Robbert?” his mother asked, as if they were at the zoo and she was asking which animal was in this enclosure. It was so hard for Robb to see Ana riled up without getting riled up too. 

“The leader of the band, Mother,” Robb said, carefully not naming her. She was nondescript, hard to track down by description alone. Hopefully more trouble than his mother thought worth it. He never wanted any of this night to come back to hurt the band. 

“Well, as you’ve heard, his debt is payed, so he is leaving. Say goodbye, Robbert.” 

“Goodbye,” Robb said, feeling like a dog, “Thank you for the experience.” That was as close as he could get to what he wanted to say. Thank you for being his friend, for being there for him, for letting him be dumb and clumsy, for a thousand things Ana has done for him. Her and Di and Jax. And all he can say is, “Thank you for the experience.” He makes him sick. 

And like that he turns with his mother and brother, because he is nothing but their dog. A spare for if something goes wrong. An extra to be married off for a good business deal once he’s ripe. That’s all he is and all he will ever be. 

He can hear Ana yelling after them, struggling against Di’s hold. He can picture Di’s face as he struggles between holding Ana back for her own good and letting her go because he knows she’ll at least land a hit. He tries not to picture Jax at all. 

But don’t worry because I hate sad endings but idk exactly what I want to happen but basically a few hours pass and then either Siege or Ana is like “So, when are we going?” and Jax is like “? Going where?” “To break your boyfriend out.” and idk, but it works out in the end. 

[kirkwall-group-therapy]

City of Blood

By Varric Tethras

Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence

Act 1

Chapter One: Hawke

 Kirkwall has always had a rough past, far beyond what most people know. But Kirkwall had never seen a shitstorm quite the one that arrived with Hawke. As always, cursed with stunning good looks and an uncanny talent for knocking heads and getting shit done, Hawke found herself the center of attention nearly everywhere she went - without even trying. She didn’t even want the attention. She was just trying to take care of her family.

 But to properly tell this tale, we need to back up a little. See Hawke wasn’t born in Kirkwall. No, she was raised in Fereldan. Charlene Maxella Hawke. Aka Charlie.  Though everyone just called her Hawke. Born to Malcolm Hawke and Leandra Amell, with younger twin siblings Carver & Bethany. Like everything these days, magic had plagued them their whole lives. Both Malcolm & Bethany were apostate mages - that is mages living “illegally” outside the control and supervision of the Chantry’s mage circles and their holy knights, the templars. They had to leave their home in Amaranthine when Bethany discovered her magic at the age of 9. That’s when they moved to Lothering, a small farming community in the south, on the edge of legendary, barbaric Korcari Wilds. There they spent the rest of their lives trying to hide Bethany and Malcolm from the templars.

 When they were older, Carver and Hawke both joined King Cailan’s army and fought in the battle of Ostagar, where the Hero of Fereldan’s story began. After Loghain pulled his men out of the fight, betraying the King and leaving him to die, the blight began spreading north- endangering Lothering. With Malcolm already dead, it was up to Hawke to protect their mother and her younger sister, so they fled Lothering and headed north. Their destination was none other than Kirkwall, where Leandra had been born and raised. Her brother, Hawke’s uncle Gamlen, still lived there and it was the only place they had left to go.

 Darkspawn dogged their heels, and they almost didn’t make it out alive. Fate joined them together with another solider from King Cailan’s army, Aveline, and her husband Wesley, a templar. Though providence, and a Witch of the Wilds, had saved them from the never-ending darkspawn - Carver didn’t survive. He died protecting the family. Fate also demanded the life of Aveline’s husband before they at last made it to safely to Kirkwall. But Kirkwall was already drowning in Fereldan refugees. The price to get in was steep, and like all the other refugees, the Hawkes had nothing but the clothes on their backs and their humble weapons. They had expected that they would immediately be given entry due to Hawke’s Uncle Gamlen and the family estate, but they arrived only to find that he had gambled away the family fortunate and lived in squalor. He managed to find them a backer, a investor - someone willing to pay for their way into the city, but it required becoming indentured servants for a year, working for an elven smuggler woman named Athenril.

 It was right around the end of their contract with Athenril when I met them. Really that’s when we all met Hawke and became a family. A twisted, messed up sort of a family, but a family none the less. That’s also about the time the Qunari arrived. The enormous horned humanoids made everyone nervous. They were ship wrecked, and supposedly waiting on a ship to come pick them up.

 Hawke & Bethany were trying to join my brother Bartrand’s expedition to the deep roads. Bartrand wouldn’t know the sharp end of a sword if it stabbed him the ass. He couldn’t see that we needed people like Hawke - experienced swords who had actually faced and killed darkspawn before. And Hawke wasn’t like the others; she had already made a name for herself while working for Athenril. Her reputation spoke for itself - she was a woman who got shit done. I knew we needed Hawke & Bethany, but the only way I would be able to convince my brother to hire them on, would be if Hawke became a partner in the venture. It was an expensive investment, but worth it. Or at least that’s how we all felt at the time. Honestly, most of Kirkwall’s problem can be traced back to that damned expedition. Or at least Kirkwall’s problems were exacerbated by it. But, we’ll get to that …

 ~

 “Do you miss home?” Bethany asked as they lay in their beds of the small room. The air was stagnate due to the inadequate ventilation in the construction of the Lowtown hovels. The ground was nothing but hardened dirt. The walls were rough as gravel, and just as uncooperative. The dark, ghastly brown material refused all attempts to be painted. Bethany had tried several times in hopes to lighten the place up, to make it feel just a little less dismal.

 “I miss …” Hawke paused, trying to understand what it was that she missed, what was it that she longed for? “I miss … Fereldan, I think.” Lady, Hawke’s Mabari war dog, lay on the floor beside her. Her ears perked up at the talk of Fereldan. Maker knows how Lady missed trees and dirt and grass and bugs. She hated the stone walls and the stone roads, and the lack of nature and creatures.

 “Not home?” Bethany asked.

 “In some ways, yes. It’s just that … I had been away from home for so long already. And I still remember our first home, near Amaranthine. In some ways I miss it more than our home in Lothering. Things were just so … different in Lothering. What I miss is … being a child. I miss hearing father’s laughter. I miss listening to your magic lessons. I miss … I miss his lessons on herbs, and hearing about the circle. I miss playing soldier with Peyton and Carver, and running through the forest with Lady. I miss the simpler times, the lack of responsibility, the sense of being happy and safe, and together. I miss the sense of nature of Fereldan, and … and the simplicity of life in Fereldan,” Hawke said.

 “I miss home terribly,” Bethany said. “I miss walls made of wood. And I never thought the ceiling was all that tall, until we came here. I miss the grand fireplace, and the Sylvan wood mantle that father and I found. I miss the family shrine and the old totem pole. I miss the fresh air that would waft through the whole house on a warm spring day, when mother would have all the windows open. And the way the sunlight would pour in and the whole house just glowed. It always gave the house an otherworldly feel, like it was part of the Golden City. So peaceful, so beautiful, so surreal. Mother used to smile more too.”

 “Fresh air,” Hawke agreed. “I really miss that.”

 “Charlie, I’m scared here,” Bethany whispered after a brief moment of silence.

 “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” Hawke said. “I won’t let the templars take you.”

 “There’s just so many of them, and we have no where to hide. We don’t have friends or allies like we did back in Lothering, and no woods to flee to. We’re poor, we have no status, and what’s worse, we’re Fereldan refugees. Maybe if we still had the Amell estate … that could be enough to hide behind,” Bethany said.

 “You really think the templars here would turn a blind eye if we were nobility?” Hawke asked.

 “Maybe not, but they wouldn’t look too closely either, don’t you think?” Bethany asked. “They’d be more gentle, at the very least.”

 “It’s going to take mother a long time to petition the Viscount,” Hawke said.

 “I heard mother say that there’s also the possibility that we could buy it back. But, it would take a fortune,” Bethany said.

 “Better start saving then, eh?” Hawke joked.

 “Is there nothing we can do, no way to earn money faster? Taking jobs like this, we’ll never get out of Lowtown,” Bethany replied.

 “Hmm,” Hawke said. She had seen a poster about an expedition to the Deep Roads. It promised “more wealth than you can imagine” - but as it equally promised Darkspawn, Hawke had dismissed the idea.

 “I heard mother crying again the other night,” Bethany said.

 “Me too,” Hawke said.

 “I would do anything - well, almost anything - to get her out of this place. Even our own place in Lowtown would be better than this place,” Bethany said. Hawke sighed.

 Maybe I should just sign up for the expedition. What’s a few more Darkspawn at this point? Hawke thought. But it recalled scenes from Ostagar, and Carver’s death. Hawke quickly banished the images and rolled onto her side. But we can’t stay here either. This place is crushing them.

 “How do you feel about the Deep Roads?” Hawke eventually asked.

 “The Deep Roads? What do you mean?” Bethany asked.

 “I saw a poster looking for able men to join an expedition to the Deep Roads. It’s a treasure hunting expedition, and they say that the chances are very good at finding a great deal of treasure. Enough that we might be able to buy back the estate, or, at least it would save us several years of saving up for it,” Hawke explained.

 “But that would mean more Darkspawn,” Bethany said. Those grotesque creatures that crawled out of the ground, deep beneath surface, seeming to spring to life from nothing but the abyss itself. Mindless ravagers. Corrupted with the blight; their blood a poison to man, beast, and soil. Supposedly darkspawn were the result of men trying to enter heaven, to enter the Golden City. But instead they corrupted it and were cast out - becoming the first darkspawn. That’s what the chantry always taught. Bethany didn’t know whether she believed any of that part or not, but she could confirm the part about their blood corrupting and decaying everything it touched. Lothering had been completely destroyed by it.

 “Indeed. I didn’t even consider it at first, for that reason. But you’re right. We can’t stay here, and it sounds like our best shot,” Hawke said.

 “But there’s no guarantee that we’ll find any treasure?” Bethany asked.

 “No, no guarantee. We could return just as broke as we were before,” Hawke said.

 “Well. I supposed we don’t have anything to lose by giving it a shot,” Bethany said.

“Are you sure?” Hawke asked, a little surprised how readily Bethany had accepted the idea.

 “I can’t stand to listen to mother cry any longer than necessary,” Bethany said.

 “Alright. We can go to talk to the expedition leader tomorrow,” Hawke said.

 “Who is the leader, do you know?” Bethany asked.

 “A dwarf named Bartrand Tethras,” Hawke said.

 The next morning the two girls walked to the Merchant Guild’s section of Hightown and met with the dwarf, Bartrand. A stingy and greedy little man who couldn’t see what a golden opportunity these two were. He turned them down flat, something that Hawke had never even considered. No one had ever refused to hire her for a job.

 Bethany was nearly in tears when they existed Bartrand’s office. Distracted, a pickpocket bumped into Hawke and made off with her coin purse. A loud snap followed by whistle punctured the air as a majestic arrow soared after her target, pinning the pickpocket to the stone wall behind him. A dashing, handsome fellow, impeccably dressed, with pearly white teeth and glittering, strawberry blonde hair, stepped forward and retrieved from the coin purse from the poor kid, and tossed it back to Hawke with a grin and a wink.

 “How do you do?” The dwarf said with a smoldering smile, the kind that makes all the women swoon. “Name’s Varric Tethras.” He twirled the arrow he retrieved from the wall, and slid it back into its quiver. “I apologize for Bartrand. He wouldn’t know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw.”

 “But you would?” Hawke asked.

 It being the middle of the day, and in Hightown, Hawke had left her great sword at home along with her heavy armor. But the skillful Varric could still spot the daggers hidden in both of her boots, and a wide bladed knife hidden under the back folds of her shirt. She was different than what he was expecting. For one, he thought she would be taller. Bulkier. She was no petite elf, mind you, but she wasn’t a stocky, dull witted human woman either. He had pictured a woman with a thick neck, perhaps a furry unibrow. As for wits, well, Varric knew that she had to be more intelligent that the average man was, because her reputation for getting jobs done meant that she was able to succeed where simple brute force had not. Still, Varric hadn’t been prepared to meet a woman of average build, slightly shorter than average height, with waist long impossibly straight chestnut brown hair, and striking aqua blue eyes. Bethany too was a stunning beauty. Her eyes nearly matched Hawke’s, but her hair was jet black and wavy, cut at shoulder length. Bethany stood a few inches taller than Hawke, but her face was softer, younger, more innocent, and she had more distinct womanly curves than Hawke. The pair of them were a dazzling sight to behold, true gems of the city if there ever were any to be had. And for a moment Varric considered that these might not be the Hawke sisters that he had heard so much about - if it weren’t for Hawke’s posture, and hardened composure. And one look into her eyes and you could see great violence and great death reflected in them.

 “I would,” he replied smoothly. “What my brother doesn’t realize is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either, he’s too proud. I, however, am quite practical.”

 “So you’re part of the expedition?” Hawke asked, clearly missing the part where both Bartrand and Varric shared the same last name.

 “That’s right,” Varric said. “The Deep Roads wouldn’t normally be my kind of thing, but I can’t allow the head of our family to go down there alone. So as you might imagine, I have more than a passing interest in this expedition’s success.”

 “What makes you so certain we can help?” Hawke asked. “You know nothing about us.”

 “Oh, on the contrary - you’ve made quite the name for yourself this last year. The name Hawke is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat,” Varric said.

 “You must have heard of my sister, as well then?” Hawke asked cautiously, trying to determine how much he knew.

 “Only a little. She’s certainly welcome to come, but I’ll leave that up to you,” Varric said.

 “Frankly, I’d rather not stand in the spotlight as it is,” Bethany said.

 “Madam, your secrets are safe with me,” Varric replied. So he was aware of Bethany’s magical abilities. Nothing escaped this handsome dwarf’s notice, it seemed.

 “What are you offering?” Bethany asked.

 “We don’t need another hireling,” Varric said. “What we really need is a partner. The truth is, Bartrand has been tearing his beard out trying to fund this expedition on his own, but he can’t do it. Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns, and he can’t refuse. Not with me to vouch for you.”

 “Your brother doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to split profits,” Hawke said.

 “My brother is many things, but he’s not stupid,” Varric said. A statement that would later be put to the test. “Far better to share the profits than be trapped in a thaig with a thousand darkspawn between you and the exit. Trust me, he’ll come around.”

 “It sounds interesting, but if I had any gold, I wouldn’t need this job,” Hawke said. “And fifty sovereigns is no small amount.”

 “You need to think big,” Varric said. “There’s only a brief window after a blight when the Deep Roads won’t be crawling with darkspawn. The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life!”

 “I think we have to try,” Bethany said. “My only question is if there is enough time for us to save up that much, before the expedition leaves without us.”

 “We’ll work together. I have eyes and ears all over the city. I can find some of the most lucrative jobs for you, and I would even be willing to tag along and help provide backup and any insight that might be useful. I can also simply stand there and look pretty for those times when you need something to lift your spirits a little,” Varric winked. “So by working together, you’ll have all the capital you need in no time.”

 “What if there’s nothing down there except darkspawn and rubble? How can you be sure we’ll make a profit?” Hawke asked.

 “Bartrand isn’t grasping at strings. He’s done his homework. He’s operating on reliable information. Some of the Deep Roads are so old, even dwarves have forgotten them. We just need to get down there, then Bartrand will lead the way. You and I will be there to handle problems,” Varric explained.

 “You’re asking me to take a lot on faith,” Hawke said.

 “Look, you’re right. There is no guarantee. But I know the templars have been asking questions. How terrible would it be to get out of the city for a while? If this works out, you’ll be rich enough that the order won’t be able to touch you.”

 Hawke wasn’t sure that there was such a thing in Kirkwall. In Fereldan, yes. But it would make Bethany safer, and ensure she we would receive the best treatment, if she ever was taken by the templars - at the very least. Templars aside, it would mean being able to give Bethany a nice life, a good life. One she and mother deserved.

 Hawke sighed. “Well, it’s not like I had anything better planned,” she grinned.

 “Perfect,” Varric said, sincerely relieved. They needed her on this expedition just as much as she needed on it. “Kirkwall is crawling with work. You set aside some coin from every job, and you’ll have the money in no time. And, when you have a moment, we should speak more privately, not out in the open like this. I have a room at the Hanged Man in Lowtown. Stop by at your earliest convenience.” Varric bid the two ladies adieu, and went back to the Hanged Man to begin preparations for the ladies, including reaching out to some of his contacts to see what kind of lucrative jobs were available at the moment.

____________________________________________________________ The characters of this fanfic are from the Dragon Age game series, though this fanfic focuses specifically on the 2nd game. I have played the games numerous times, but have not read the comics and have not completed all of the DLC’s, so I have only used information found when playing the games. As this is a fanfic, I have at times changed information regarding characters, timeline of events, their comments, or their reactions.

I wrote the fanfic for me, but I hope others can enjoy it too. Thank you so much EA/BIOWARE for these amazing games and amazing characters!

I’m new to tumblr so bear with my while I figure out post formatting. I played all the DA games years ago and recently replayed them, and while I always loved them, I starting obsessing over them after my recent play through, ha. 

[loveseungs]

irony p. ii

a/n: heck here it is i just love words dont i also note: tumblr is being BadTM and broke all links so if u want p 1 just pls search for it on my blog

↠ pairing: lee felix x reader ↠ word count: 13.07k ↠ warnings: female reader ↠ genre: fluff, angst, soulmate au  ↠ part: one, two ↠ summary: 

In a world where soulmates exist, love is still a gamble.

 --

Bus rides home were usually filled with white noise and thoughts about work. But there was something about the steady pitter-patter of the rain and the hazy blur of life around you that lead you to plug in your earphones and listen to music.

It was tormenting. The catchiest beats were also the saddest ones, making your heart swell up at every relatable lyric. It was as if Spotify was playing with the strings of your heart, plucking them like an instrument every time a song about heartbreak came into your queue.

You were stuck in a state of paradox. The more you tried to forget, the more you tried to erase him who was in your heart, the more you remembered. You hated him because you knew that you couldn’t truly bring yourself to hate him.

Timing never seemed to be right with the two of you. If only you’d discovered that he was your destiny a few years later, maybe everything would have worked out, but since you found out a little bit too early, the problem then became you being too late to tell him.

A full year had already passed, and it felt like time was stretched. Graduation seemed so long ago after the ball started rolling on your career life. Once you moved to Busan and getting a great albeit stressful job, so many things just seemed to have happened. You convinced yourself of the fact that this was life now, and if this was all you were going to get, you were going to make it as spectacular as possible. Moving on from the mess that was Lee Felix was dealt and done with, however, it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t think about him every once in a while.

Twelve months ago, your arm was always covered in ink. The week you stopped talking to Felix, that’s when they started to appear. A thousand little messages written on your arm every single morning was what you had to wake up to. You’d seen your fair share of ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘I miss you’s, but you weren’t taking any of it. You knew that if you dared to reply once, even just once, you knew you’d just get hurt all over again—it was not something you were willing to risk, even if those annoying writings on your arm caused you to buy more long-sleeved shirts.

Gradually, their appearances lessened until the messages stopped altogether. Something about the absence of the all-too-familiar handwriting finally settled the fact that he was all but a memory that you were to leave in the past.

Occasionally, there were times that the memory of him would be jogged once again, like on this particular bus ride home. Truly, the blame was to be put on the meaningful lyrics and solemn melodies.

Chhhh. This was the part where you got off the bus and shook whatever bad vibes you were feeling out of your mind. This was not the time to feel sad. Not today, not today.

“Oh, you’re home already. How was work?” your grandma greeted from the kitchen, the sound of sizzling oil faintly echoing through the house.

“Shall I tell you over dinner?” You pursed your lips into a smile. “Or do you want to be spoiled? Just a hint, today was fantastic.”

“Well, if that doesn’t tickle my fancy. If you’re gonna start it off like that, sweetie, you might as well just tell me now,” she answered.

You entered the kitchen with a dramatic stride. You stopped for a second to pose, then you took a loud, deep breath. “Your grandkid made it, Nana. I, [L/N] [F/N], have been promoted to the Assistant Brand Manager of the department. Boss said I get a bonus on every third Friday of the month. Isn’t that something?”

“My, my. Won’t you treat your old woman out for dinner one of these days, since you’re now swimming in money? I’d love a steak, dear,” she smiled. “I’m only joking. I am so, so proud of you, darling! We need to celebrate! Come give me a hug!”

You wrapped your arms tightly around your grandmother. “Agh, I’m beyond elated! Shall we go somewhere special?”

“Would you care for some wine, perhaps? I’m cooking beef, so I think it would taste great. Set out the table outside, let’s enjoy the evening breeze. Let’s talk more about your promotion later. Who’s going to take your previous spot on the team?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Boss said there were some very promising newcomers, and I can only hope they’ll be a good addition and not a downfall to our team. Did you know that our department is one of the most productive ones? Ever since the PR department waged war on us, our productivity rate has doubled in number.”

“Why would you want to wage war on other departments? Mustn’t you work together for the better of the company?”

“Yes!” you replied. “It’s mostly to see who can boost the company’s sales better. We usually compete when we do our weekly reports to the boss. I think Boss secretly knows about the Marketing-PR war because he hasn’t said a word about any of our shenanigans, even if we blatantly express our friendly rivalry. There’s a small scoreboard in the conference room to tally which department did better that week, and it’s updated by the secretary. Boss didn’t order it to be put there, but he hasn’t said anything about it either.”

“It sounds wonderful. That’s quite a great way to promote efficiency in the company,” your grandmother commented, plating the dishes she had prepared for dinner.

“I know! Rumor has it that Boss is planning a company outing where all the departments will go on a head-to-head competition. I don’t know the details, but my co-worker said that she heard it from the janitor who heard it from the secretary,” you went on, “anyway, I’ll save more of the talk for later. Where do you keep the candles? I’ll put some outside as I set the tables.”

“In the left-most wooden drawer—no, not that one. Yes, that one. Glad to hear that work is good for you, honey. Makes me very glad.”

--

How could you stop a smile from making its way to your face? When you stepped into work the next day, you wore a grin like an expensive article of clothing.

“Somebody’s cheerful today,” your co-worker, Yugyeom mentioned, looking up from his desk. “what’s with the happy demeanor, [Y/N]?”

“Can’t I revel in the fact that I’ve finally been promoted?” you answered, taking a seat at your desk.

“Come on. There must be something else that’s up. Did you get a boyfriend? Meet a soulmate? Win the lotto? Your smile’s so bright, I think I’m going to go blind.” He rolled his eyes.

“No! Gross, I don’t have time for things like that,” you huffed. Leaning in, you whispered, “Listen. There’s a newcomer that’s going to be added to our team. Apparently, he’s from the Daejeon branch of the company, and he’s being transferred here to the Busan office because apparently, he did very well. Do you realize what this means for us? If we get another good employee, we’ll have one more person to help tackle PR on the scoreboard.”

“Damn, girl! Talk about competitive!”

“You know you’re excited, too.”

“Okay, fine. I am. Let’s teach this newcomer to help us in the quest to out-produce PR.”

“Morning, guys,” a familiar voice greeted. You and Yugyeom stood up to bow to your superior.

“Morning, Chan,” you greeted back.

“Woah, no ‘Sir’ for you, huh, [Y/N]?” Yugyeom snickered.

You hit him playfully. “I’ve known Chan since high-school. He’s the one who told me not to call him ‘Sir’. Anyway, is it true that the newcomer’s a good one? Gosh, I can’t wait. This is like fresh meat for us, you know? Do you know his name?”

“How do you know he’s a guy?” Yugyeom asked, raising a brow.

“Heard it from the janitor. Swear the janitor knows everything. Need info? I can get it for you. The janitor makes a pretty good friend,” you explained. “Anyway, like I asked, Chan. Do you have info on him?”

“Actually, [Y/N], I don’t. The Chief of Staff has yet to introduce me to him, which is kind of surprising. But to be fair, I’ve been out on business trips lately, so I’m not all too shocked,” Chan explained. “I hope this person is what make him out to be. Oh, speak of the devil.”

“Hello, all. Good morning. As you know, I’m Mr. Park, Chief of Staff, and I’m here to bring to you the latest addition to your team. As some of you may have heard, he is from our Daejeon branch and is a very capable man. I hope you will all take care of him.”

Chan took one glance at you to make sure you were doing alright, but all he saw was your jaw suspended in the open air, eyes wide.

You felt everything and nothing all at once.

“Everyone, this is Lee Felix, and he will be in charge of product marketing.”

--

You slammed the door to the office pantry behind you, Chan following inside. As you finished downing an entire cup of coffee, you sputtered, “How could this have happened? Chan! You’re like, the only person who knows what happened between Felix and I during high-school and college!”

“I swear, I didn’t know!” Chan defended, handing you a glass of water to calm you down. “I’m just as shocked as you are, alright? Drink this.”

“Is the world seriously against me?” you grumbled, burying your face in your hands. “Just as things have been looking up, he walks back into my life just like that! Here! In Busan! Where I purposely went so that I could get away from him!”

“Calm down, [Y/N]. Let’s sort this out. But you have to promise me that you won’t let your personal problems get in the way of professionality. I know you’re in shock, but let’s try not to let this get the best of you. Remember, PR’s been on the top of the leaderboard for two weeks straight, and we really need to step up our game,” the older boy spoke, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll try to fix this, yeah?”

“Dear goodness, I sure hope so,” you muttered, setting down the second empty paper cup as you looked at the office through the pantry blinds.

“I knew Felix had a job in marketing, but I didn’t know it was for our company, nevertheless did I expect him to end up here with us. I thought he got hired back in Seoul,” Chan commented, also watching the newcomer through the blinds.

“Right?” you sighed. “What on this good, green earth am I going to do know? I’m going to have to engage in conversation, you know?”

“Well, I suppose you can’t hide from him forever. After all, he… is your—”

“God, Chan. Don’t say it, please. Please don’t remind me,” you begged, shoulders going down in a slump.

Just like that, your joyful morning mood was dampened like the imminent grey clouds on a sunny June day, and now you were left with a situation you couldn’t run from.

--

A couple of days passed and you successfully avoided having to make any contact with Felix.

Surprisingly, things weren’t as bad as you had expected. You only had to do that obligatory bow when you greeted each other in the hallways, but that was it. You could not have it any other way.

“So… how’s stuff? You doing okay?” Chan asked one lunchbreak, grabbing his chopsticks from the lunch tray.

You gulped the rice in your mouth. “Could not be better. Can you believe it? One week went by without anything more than a couple of seconds of eye-contact and a bow.”

Yugyeom, who was sitting beside you, squinted his eyes. “Wait. Who are we talking about?”

“Uh,” you began, shooting a glance at Chan. “N-No one important, really. Just this person I met.”

“What, blind date outside of work?” he asked.

“No, I don’t have time for dates.”

Your co-worker gave you a goofy smile. “Aw, sucks for me, I just lost my shot.”

“Gross, Mr. Kim!” you laughed.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Anyway, what’s your soulmate link?”

Great. The taboo question. It was cool, it was cool, you were chill, you were chill. “Oh, uh… why? What’s yours? Have you met your soulmate?”

“I’m a late bloomer, I guess. Lots of my friends have met their soulmates already, but my link says I’m still meeting my soulmate in… a couple of months. I’d show you the tattoo, but no one can see it anyway,” Yugyeom shared, taking a bite of his lunch. “How about you? I asked you first.”

“It’s a drawing link. Whatever’s drawn on my skin shows up on my soulmate’s or vice versa,” you said quietly, sipping your water. “But I’m not too hung up on the soulmate idea. Did you know that Chan’s real lucky? He scored a jackpot. Have you seen his girlfriend? She’s super nice. She and Chan are like the older siblings I never had.”

“Hey, but it was hard. You know, I had such a hard time with visual projects back in school before I met her. I had to keep asking my friends to tell me if my presentations looked good because really, I couldn’t tell. If I worked on them alone, they’d probably have the color scheme of ugly sweaters. So glad I can see color now, or else I probably would have a difficult time here in the company,” Chan chuckled at the thought. “By the way, she’s asking if you wanna come over some time for dinner. She misses hanging out with you, you know.”

“Oh for sure. How about this Saturday evening? I need to tell her about the recent news. Unnie’s gonna freak,” you asked Chan while you noted the schedule down on your phone.

“Hey, I thought you were gonna help me that evening with the project Boss assigned us?” Yugyeom piped up. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna cancel!”

“Relax, Mr. Kim. Let’s do that over lunch. No need to worry,” you told him.

Just then, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and you turned around hastily, wiping your mouth.

Standing there with a hand at the back of his head was He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.

“Uh… Ms. [L/N]?”

‘Ooh, never thought I’d hear my last name roll off his tongue. Whatever, that’s to be expected,’ you thought.

“Sorry to bother you during lunch, but I need you to look over some paperwork that you submitted. Some of it wasn’t completed,” the freckled boy announced, handing you a folder.

You raised a brow. “Have I not? I could have sworn that I checked over these twice. I never submit incomplete paperwork.”

“A-Ah, is that so? But look here, there’s a blank space.”

You scanned the papers in your hands thoroughly. Glancing beside you, you inquired, “Mr. Kim, I thought this section of the paperwork was your job?”

Yugyeom took the folder from you. “What’s this? I didn’t send you the complete copy?”

“No?”

“Sorry, Mr. Lee. This was a fault on my part. It’s true, Ms. [L/N] never submits incomplete paperwork. I’ll have these files ready by 13:30, after lunch. Apologies for the inconvenience,” Yugyeom apologized, bowing.

Felix sported a polite smile. “Oh, it’s alright. I’m so sorry for the confusion, Miss [L/N]. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Um, you’re welcome.”

Caw. Caw. Caw.

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Enjoy the rest of your lunch, Ms. [L/N], Mr. Kim, Sir Bang,” Felix bowed, dragging his legs towards the opposite direction.

When he was out of sight, you leaned in to whisper, “If that wasn’t the most awkward two minutes of my entire company experience! I was doing so well up until this moment. I told you it’s best if I don’t talk to him!”

“What’s up with you and Mr. Newbie? You two know each other?” Yugyeom pressed, letting his chin rest on his hand. “Oh my. Don’t tell me—he’s the guy you went on a blind date with!”

“Lower your volume!” you scolded. “And ew, no! I already told you, I don’t have time for blind dates.”

“So give me a good reason as to why you’re apparently avoiding him!”

Chan came to the rescue. “Oh, we all went to the same high-school. [Y/N] and Feli—Mr. Lee used to go to the same college. She’s just had some weird encounters with him, is all.”

You nodded as if to agree with your superior. “Yup. Although don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to let it affect my work. Professionalism is professionalism.”

“Oh, is that right? Mm, didn’t know that,” Yugyeom answered, “anyway, let’s head back to our department. Lunch break is ending and I gotta fix this paperwork.”

--

The conference room door closed slowly behind as you and Chan made your way out from the most recent meeting. People from PR gave you both a smirk before heading towards their department. You clutched your fists in frustration and bore holes into their backs while stomping to the opposite direction.

“Just because they’ve gotten a lead on the scoreboard makes them think they can act like that, huh,” you hissed, rolling your eyes. “I swear, I’m working overtime this week.”

Chan placed a hand on your shoulder and stopped you. “Calm down, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Besides, we should be happy that they’re doing good for the company. Don’t get me wrong, I hate their department with my guts, but it’s nice to see Boss smiling at the good reports. But here’s the catch. Next week, we’re having the company outing. I’ve yet to announce it to the department, so keep your mouth quiet. I received the e-mail this morning, and it’s going to be held in Jeju island. There’s going to be lots of activities. Boss thinks it’s a good investment to have a fun company outing to, quote unquote, ‘promote bonding in the workplace’.”

You gasped and pointed at Chan. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We get to totally mow down PR in competition?”

“The prize is yet to be announced, and yes. We’re going to kill it. Of course, that means everyone in the department has to double-time this week so that we can enjoy the outing without thinking of work. How’s the project I assigned you doing?” Chan questioned.

From behind you, a voice spoke. “Uh, sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but overhear you two talking about the company outing. According to Secretary Bambam, each department is going to stay in separate guest houses. Do you need some help, Ms. [L/N]?” Yugyeom brought up, joining in on the conversation.

“Help? For what?” you asked, raising a brow.

Yugyeom put a hand to his mouth. “Don’t you have some kind of uncomfortable business with Mr. Lee, the newbie? I don’t know, I thought you’d be bothered.”

“Mr. Kim!” Chan boomed. “Don’t let [Y/N]’s personal matters affect how you interact with the people on our team. The least we need is division amongst ourselves. Where even did you get the information on the outing? You’re not supposed to know yet.”

“Why hide it? As I was making coffee in the staff room, Secretary Bambam offhandedly mentioned it to me,” Yugyeom answered, holding his clipboard.

“I’m sure it’s not going to be so bad,” you reassured the two boys, heading over to your desk. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Kim.”

--

“This is so bad,” you grumbled, throwing different articles of clothing on your bed. There were all sorts of knick-knacks flying around your tiny room, scattered any place a knick-knack could be.

Just then, the door to your room opened and your grandma stepped in, raising her hands in surprise. “Woah, woah, woah! What’s going on in here? Your room looks like a jungle of clothes! I said pack for your trip, not unleash the beast, sweetie.”

You let out an exasperated groan as you shut the door of your closet. “Sorry, grandma. I’m just a little stressed thinking about the trip.”

“Come sit,” the older woman insisted, patting the empty spot on your bed beside her. “Tell me what’s wrong. To think this trip is supposed to be a celebration for the numerous victories your company has been making these past few months.”

“It’s not the company, grandma,” you admitted, taking a seat beside her. “It’s…it’s just that I have to deal with being stuck in a house with someone I wish I didn’t need to be with.”

“Hmm? That’s strange, I always thought you to be one of the more amiable people at work. Are you not friends with everybody?”

You sucked in your breath and prepared for what was about to come. “There’s this one guy. His name is Lee Felix… and… he’s… my soulmate.”

“Oh my.”

Right then and there, you decided that you could no longer keep up the bubbling vexations you buried deep in your chest. From the moment you met him until the very moment those years of friendship ended, you told her everything, not sparing a single important detail. By the time you finished up your story, your face was puffy and your eyes were red. The nighttime breeze howled quietly in the background, enveloping you in a chill.

“A-And recently, I thought I was doing okay, but he decided to take another stride back into my life. I mean, it’s all good at work, but it’s been so hard to focus lately and I don’t know why. I know I’m over him, and I’ve resigned to not thinking about soulmates or finding love or whatever. But every time I see that damned face of his, things come flooding into my mind,” you sniffled, blowing your nose. Your grandma rubbed soothing circles on your back, listening to every word that you spoke. “It doesn’t help that PR is doing better than Marketing lately, and I can’t help but think that maybe I’m slacking off a bit or something.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Here, drink some water,” your grandma began, “if you’ll let me, may I share what I think about your situation?”

“Go ahead, grandma. I’m so sorry for crying.”

“Sweetie, no, don’t do that. It’s okay to cry. But you know, I think the reason why you’ve become so competitive at work, the reason you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, the reason why you hold anger in your heart towards Felix despite saying that you’ve moved on from him, even the reason why you always apologize for crying—all those reasons are the same. From what I’ve been hearing, I think you need to re-examine what’s really in there,” she explained, pointing at your left chest where your heart was. “Ever since Felix, you’ve blamed yourself for everything. Because you knew you got hurt, you sorta… how should I say this… resigned yourself into thinking ‘I’m never going to get hurt like that again’. You made that mistake, and you’ve been beating yourself over it for these past few years.”

“I-I have?”

“Honey, I have to tell you. It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay,” your grandma said, pulling you into a hug. “And honestly, I think the person who needs forgiveness most now isn’t Felix, but you. Forgive yourself, [Y/N]. It’s alright that you stumbled along the way.”

Your face crumpled. It was true. You felt so… so raw in front of your grandmother who saw right through you, who saw right through your heart. Everything somewhat fell into place, and you realized the reason you were hurting. And it felt good, to have finally admitted what you were hiding deep down for so long.

“So… what do I do now, grandma?” you asked, voice coming out as a choke. “What now?”

“It’s your choice if you want to, at the very least, tolerate him or let him go. Whatever you choose, know that I’m proud of you for taking those steps. Now go pack, it’s getting late and you’re supposed to meet up with the team early tomorrow. Please bring a jacket.”

“I will,” you replied, watching your grandmother get up and head out of your room. “Hey grandma?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you.”

--

The sun was barely out, but you and your team were already outside the company building waiting for the van. The sounds of yawning and drowsy morning chatter filled the atmosphere.

Just before you left the house, your grandma left you some rice cakes on the table. A note saying ‘Eat well and enjoy <3’ came with it, helping you start your day off with a smile. As your team lined up to board the ferry, you bit into a rice cake, letting your teeth sink into the soft delicacy. Wow. It was beyond scrumptious.

The vicinity was getting a little bit warm as the sun began its ascent into the higher areas of the sky, causing you to remove the jacket you were wearing, As you tied the piece of clothing to your waist, you couldn’t help but notice a scribble on your left arm, just below your wrist.

‘Would you ever consider giving me one of your rice cakes? I’m so sorry, I saw you eating some and I haven’t had breakfast. It’s alright if you decide not to. I’ll wash off the ink with hand sanitizer.’

You jerked your head up, scanning the crowd for a certain someone. When your eyes landed on an all-too-familiar freckled boy, he reciprocated your stare with a sheepish smile.

You did a double-take. Should you forfeit your streak of barely having to interact with him or offer a rice cake to your hungry co-worker who would probably really need to eat something before leaving to engage in several tiring activities? Damn it, you knew he loved rice cakes.

Hesitantly, you shuffled over to Felix, who waved to you and bowed as you approached him. “Uh, good morning, Fe—Mr. Lee.”

“Hi, Miss [L/N]. Get my note?” the boy asked, pointing to your arm. Damn, you knew about his booming voice, but you’d forgotten just how deep his pitch was.

“The chicken scratch handwriting was quite hard to miss.”

“I’m sorry for using this particular means of communication. I just… I’m finding it a little difficult to talk to you, no offense.”

“None taken,” you answered, handing him a rice cake. “You’ll just really do anything for a rice cake, huh?”

In seconds, the poor rice cake was scarfed down. Felix wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Like I’ll ever forget the reason half my lunch was always missing back in high-school,” you scoffed. “Here, you can have one more. I have more food in my bag anyway. Why’d you skip breakfast?”

‘Damn it, [Y/N]!’ you thought to yourself. ‘What the hell is up with you? I thought we agreed to just hand him a rice cake and leave?!’

“I live a bit far from here. I couldn’t miss the bus,” he answered, adjusting the neck pillow sitting comfortably on his shoulders. It was sort of endearing, how the neck pillow was themed to be a cute teddy bear design. Felix yawned. “And I didn’t sleep too well last night. Had to do some last-minute paperwork because somebody turned in their files late. Thank you so much, by the way. Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

“You’re welcome. And oh, I can imagine how awful that is. Late paperwork, I mean. I feel bad for nagging our co-workers to send me files, but in the end, it gets the job done, you know,” you replied, straightening your back. “Anyway, if that will be all, I’m just gonna—”

“Wait, don’t go!” Felix sputtered, grabbing a hold of your arm. He quickly released it, ears turning red. “A-Ah, sorry. I just wanted to ask you something about PR.”

“PR? Huh. Go shoot,” you mused, and you could still feel the burning spot where Felix’s hand collided with your arm.

“What’s up with this thing I hear about a Marketing-PR war?”

As you opened your mouth to speak, Chan interrupted you with a tap. “Hey, [Y/N], I need to borrow a pen.”

You fished for your trusty gel pen from your backpack and handed it to Chan, who began to look around and tick off boxes on his clipboard. Taking a peek at the clipboard, you saw that he was just doing a headcount.

“That’s our leader-nim, huh?” you teased, playfully giving Chan a nudge. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll give your pen back later, I need it for a while. Go line up over there already, the van is leaving in ten minutes,” Chan answered, walking away.

Felix began to make his way to the spot that Chan had instructed you both to go to, and you followed right behind. As soon as he set his luggage down on the floor again, he turned to you. “So… Marketing-PR war?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, remembering. “It’s kind of a long story, but I guess it’s important to know the origins of the great Marketing-PR battle. I can tell you about it on the way, but only if you’re truly ready to hear the origins.”

“I mean sure. We’re spending a lot of time in the van anyway, so we have plenty of time to kill.” Felix suggested. “I’m so glad Boss booked the high-speed car ferry. A trip that would usually take five hours is cut down to two.”

“Good, good, sure. I only have so much downloaded drama on my phone to kill time. So anyway, since we have a lot to cover, I better start. It begins when Sir Park Jinyoung—not the CEO, the head of PR—gets one of Marketing’s most competent workers, Choi Youngjae.”

--

“Thank everything we’re here,” Yugyeom breathed, grabbing his duffle bag from the trunk. “I thought we’d never make it.”

“On the bright side, Mr. Lee finally knows the deep, dark past of Marketing and PR,” Chan mentioned, helping Yugyeom get his bags.

“Yeah, um, after we got interrupted like, ten times.” You rolled your eyes. “I could have told the whole story in one hour, but you kept cutting in and getting side-tracked. Did Mr. Lee have to know about the Ramen Incident?”

“Okay, fine, whatever. Let’s go settle in the guest house. Boss wants us to meet in the conference hall at 1:00 sharp. He’s going to brief everyone on the activities,” Chan retorted.

“Boss is here?” Felix questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, he’s here to oversee the activities. Usually, he’d send the secretary, but since two entire departments are here, he came,” Yugyeom answered.

The four of you wheeled in your luggage into the cozy-looking cabin, which turned out to be more modern and restful that you’d expected. The inside was simple and minimalistic but sported a few home-esque touches. There were four bedrooms to be split between the team, but Chan had already assigned them. The girls would have the rooms upstairs while the guys would stay in the two downstairs. You were more than thankful to have a sensible roommate—her name was Jihyo and she was one of the more responsible ones on the marketing team.

“I’m relieved that we got here in one piece,” Jihyo commented, setting down her bags in the closet. “I’m surprised that Mr. Kim didn’t blow up the van.”

You chuckled. “Sometimes, I wonder how he’s even considered a grown man.”

“Right? Also, would you like some mosquito spray? I hear that it gets very bugsy outside,” she offered, holding up a bottle.

“How could I have scored such an awesome roomie? Thank you so much,” you grinned, spraying the product on your skin.

As soon as you both finished settling down, you made your way downstairs to meet the others. Once everyone was there, the Marketing team headed outside towards the conference hall, where your boss was waiting.

“Oh, nice. We made it first,” Chan mentioned, taking a seat on one of the plastic chairs.

You plopped down beside him. “Plus points to Marketing for being punctual.”

In a few seconds, a group of people started to pile into the venue one by one, and you recognized them as the terrible faces of PR. The engine of competitiveness was revving up as the minutes passed.

“Welcome to the long-awaited JYP company outing,” the one and only CEO boomed into the mic, “it’s nice to see that many of you were able to come.”

An applaud echoed throughout the hall.

“Anyhow, I’d not like to keep you here any longer. I’m sure that you are all famished by the travel and have not gotten the chance to eat a proper lunch yet. Worry not and let that be one of the driving forces for you all to give your best at the activities. The schedule is as follows: at 1:30 PM, the Relay Race will start. It will take around one to two hours, so I expect it to be over at around 3:00 PM. I will now announce the mechanics of the Race. Secretary Bambam, please flash the slides,” your Boss announced.

“Alright. You are now here,” he stated, pointing a laser at a spot on the screen. “Each team will go through a series of obstacles throughout the area. All these obstacles have been tailored to test your skills as employees, of course, as to not waste such a valuable opportunity to incorporate training and recreation. Some of these include creating a campaign for a product on the fly and trying to persuade me, who will act like a customer, to buy the said product. Each time you beat one obstacle better than the other team, you gain one point. Whoever gains the most points by the end of the Race gets quite the grand prize. At JYP, we don’t plan shabby company outings. At JYP, we allow our employees to have a chance at a fabulous prize, and this year, the winning department not only gets a delicious barbeque sponsored by our clients but also a bonus for next month’s paycheck.”

The entire hall erupted in cheer, everyone clearly enthused at the sound of the word ‘bonus’, which was just like an angelic choir.

“Right now, you all have a couple of minutes to plan out your strategies. Here are the list of ‘obstacles’ you will be facing, and I suggest you take time to assign your best people to the activities that they are most likely to do well at. At 1:30 sharp, Secretary Bambam will ring a bell and everyone should be off. Time starts now! Enjoy, everyone. See you at the finish line.”

You took one look at the screen in front and Chan was already motioning for your department to come and huddle.

“Alright, so for activity one, we need our most persuasive members. Ms. Park, Mr. Yang, I think you’d be most suited for that. Mr. Kim, I’m assigning you to face off in that dance battle,” Chan instructed.

“Are you kidding me?” Yugyeom shrieked. “Actually, you know what, sure. I’d rather do that than try to come up with a marketing scheme for Boss. Did you know I’ve won several awards for dancing in college? If I wasn’t in this company, I’d probably rocking the stag—”

“Not now! Anyway, Ms. Im, I’ll trust you to activity three. We all need to work together for activity four, then for the final activity—oh.”

Chan glanced at you, then glanced at Felix. You caught sight of that began to shake your head vigorously.

“Chan, whatever you’re thinking, NO.”

Your superior walked over to you and whispered, “[Y/N], we both know you and Felix can annihilate anyone in a three-legged race.”

“That was in high-school!” you defended, rubbing your palms together. “There’s no way—why is that activity even on the list?! Everyone knows the three-legged race is just so that people can poke fun at the contestants.”

“Think about PR winning that sweet, sweet bonus that we’re supposed to snag,” Chan tempted, etching a horrible image in your mind.

You did a double-take. “Fine, fine! But only because I hate PR’s guts more than I can humanely bear. Damn it.”

--

The score was currently tied, and it was down to the last obstacle: the dreaded three-legged race. ‘Of course this was how it was going to pan out,’ you thought to yourself, ‘because the universe hates me and loves to play with my life.’

While Yugyeom was busy bragging about his epic win at the dance show-off, you were bent down, tying a ribbon around your leg and Felix’s.

“Hey,” Felix began, clearing his throat. “Sorry you had to end up with me. I can tell you’re pretty bummed out.”

You whipped your head to him and your cheeks started to flush. “U-Uh, that isn’t it. It’s fine, really. Let’s just totally kill PR, alright?”

“You still got that three-legged race spirit in you?” he asked, stretching his arms. “Or has it withered away over the years?”

“I will never, ever give up my secret talent for three-legged races.”

“We’ll see about that. Wanna test it out? Let’s walk from here to there. No stumbling.”

You scoffed and nodded. In a few seconds, Felix found a way to snake his arms around your waist and a glare was quickly sent in his direction.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that this is the only way we can advance faster. Tried and tested, remember?” Felix piped up, adjusting his footing. “It’s how we beat that loser from Class B in high-school.”

“Alright already, let’s get this over with. Test from here to the water bottle?”

“Yup. One, two, three, go.”

Just like he said, the extra support from his grasp allowed for you both to move swiftly. It wasn’t long until you were able to reach the water bottle finish-line.

“See, told you.”

“Okay, contestants! Please make your way to the starting line now for the final battle, the tiebreaker!” Secretary Bambam announced over a microphone.

“How are you guys doing? You alright?” Chan’s voice came from behind you, causing you both to turn your heads in unison.

“Still got it, Sir Bang. The three-legged race has always been something me and Ms. [L/N] will always conquer with flying colors. Watch us win the department a bonus and a barbeque,” Felix grinned, giving Chan a thumbs-up.

“Can’t wait to see PR’s crushed faces. This is gonna be a breeze.” You saluted.

“Actually,” Chan started, leaning into a whisper. “You might wanna look over there. This is actually going to be quite close.”

Turning your head to the other side, you caught a glimpse of two familiar men. A gasp escaped your mouth.

“Wang and Tuan?!” you screamed, making Chan shoot you a look that said ‘shut-up’.

“What’s wrong with Wang and Tuan?” Felix questioned, head still turned in their direction.

You rubbed your temples in frustration. “Um, yes, you heard me. It just had to be the damned Wang and Tuan! They’re notorious for being one of the company’s most athletic individuals. We might as well surrender now because Mr. Tuan used to be in the track team back in the day and Mr. Wang once tried to match the speed of a moving car.”

“Hey, I used to be in Taekwondo! I have legs, Ms. [L/N]. Legs for days,” Felix replied.

“It’s indeed going to be a tough one, but we don’t know how well Mr. Wang and Mr. Tuan can run as a duo. For all we know, they’re amazing solo runners but terrible once their legs are tied together,” Chan encouraged.

“Nope.” You pointed at the two men who were jogging together in place. “Look at that coordination.”

“Okay, I hate to do this, but I know spite is the greatest motivator for you, [Y/N],” Chan started, balling his hands into a fist. “Remember when you were stressing over late paperwork the other day and wanted chocolate milk but found out there were none left in the staff room?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Wang took the last one,” Chan stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

“He didn’t.”

“Oh, but he did. When I went over to PR to hand in some files, I saw him sipping the last carton of chocolate milk.”

“That piece of scum,” you seethed, grabbing on to Felix’s waist. “That’s it, Felix. We’re taking them down.”

“Oh, we’re on first-name basis now?” the freckled boy asked innocently, putting his arm on your waist as well.

“This is war,” you declared, “we’re partners now. And today, we’re going to wipe off the dregs of society from this earth.”

--

Crackle. Crackle. A wave of heat kissed your face as a puff of smoke danced with the air. And the smell of charcoal was absolutely disgusting, but it was the single sweet reminder that everybody needed and deserved.

“Are we ready?” Yugyeom whispered, hiding behind your back.

“Let’s get cooking.”

Within seconds, the entirety of the Marketing team was scrambling to grab a hold of a piece of barbeque, hungry employees bustling left and right. After winning the competition, food was screaming to be devoured. It was three in the afternoon and nobody’d eaten lunch yet.

“Wait!” Chan cleared his throat. “Do we have drinks? I would like to make a toast.”

“Uh…” Jihyo drawled, eyeing the vicinity. “We have paper cups, but no drinks. Seriously? Who plans a barbeque with no drinks?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll go to the store. I heard it’s not far from here,” you offered, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“I’ll go with you in a second,” Chan answered, grabbing a paper cup, “but before we eat, to [Y/N] and Felix! The ones who trampled over PR during the tiebreak! Raise a glass!”

A cheer erupted from everyone’s mouths as empty paper cups were raised in the air to honor the victory that belonged to the team.

“Oh, can I come with? There’s a couple of things I wanna buy, too,” Yugyeom asked, walking towards you.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll save you some barbeque,” Felix suggested, waving. “Congrats to us. Go get the team some refreshing stuff!”

The three of you made your way out of the area and onto the streets, searching for a nearby grocery or convenience store.

After what seemed like miles of walking, your feet finally brought you in front of a small grocery. You didn’t hesitate to walk right in and pick up a basket.

The humble store consisted of a few shelves with worn-out paint lined up neatly in rows and holding all kinds of snacks and delights. The gentle whirring coming from the back lead you to a clear refrigerator with different drinks, and pretty soon, the metal basket in your hands was filled with several bottles. These were piled onto the counter along with a couple bags of chips, courtesy a snacky Yugyeom.

“What?” he said when you started to eye him judgingly, throwing the chip bags on the cashier tabletop. “It’s for my midnight cravings and the trip back home.”

You rolled your eyes, handing the cashier your credit card in exchange for your purchases. After getting your card back, the three of you headed back outside. Chan stopped in his tracks.

“Wait, so from here, did we take a left turn or a right turn? Right, right?”

“Pretty sure it was a left turn, Chan.”

“What?! You two are crazy, we came from straight ahead! I saw that sign with the cute cats earlier.”

“Okay, Mr. Kim, we’re trusting you.”

“Just drop the honorifics already. It’s alright.”

A minute passed… then two… then five…

“This isn’t the way that we came from.”

“You know what? This is why we live in a technological world. Let me just Google Maps this,” Yugyeom scoffed, pulling out his phone. “Aaaaaand… it says my line was cut off because I forgot to pay the bill. Cool, cool. Chan?”

“I left my phone in the room earlier because I didn’t want it to be hurled around during the race,” Chan answered. “[Y/N], you?”

A trickle of sweat slipped down your forehead. “Phone’s been dead for over an hour. I used it to record Wang and Tuan’s devastated faces after the competition.”

“Um, excuse me,” Chan attempted, trying to ask an elderly lady for help. She waved him off, muttering something about dangerous strangers.

“Right, so we’re lost, no help, and completely foreign-looking streets. What could get worse?” Yugyeom mumbled all pessimistic.

The clouds rumbled above.

“Seriously?!” Chan breathed out, gesturing for you three to wait under the shade of the grocer’s storefront. “Situational irony? Isn’t this just fantastic?”

“Hold on,” you began, turning to the oldest of you three. “Chan, do you still have the pen I lent you earlier before you left? You said you needed to check attendance.”

“Oh yeah, as a matter of fact, I do,” he replied, fishing in his pocket for the said pen. “Here.”

You took it hastily, taking a deep breath before engaging in the one thing you had never thought you’d do in your lifetime. Flipping the cap open, you began to write down a couple of words on your arm.

“Hi, Felix. Please tell me when you see this. It’s really urgent. Chan, Yugyeom, and I are stranded in a grocery, phones dead. Could you come pick us up at XX Grocer with umbrellas?”

“What? How’s that supposed to help us? It’s not like the words will magically float off into cyberspace,” Yugyeom commented, confused.

Your cheeks began to feel warm. After casting a worried look to Chan, you shut your eyes and began to spill your secret.

“I-It’s…um… whatever I write on my arm will show up on Felix’s arm and vice versa,” you explained quietly, keeping your eyes fixated on your arms for any sign of response.

“Don’t tell me,” Yugyeom gasped, “he’s the one you’re soulmates with?!”

“She’s known since high-school,” Chan sighed, “but there are reasons as to why they’re not… you know. Together. [Y/N] doesn’t particularly like to talk about it.”

“No, it’s alright,” you waved it off, “I can tell you, just please don’t tell anyone. Um, actually, Felix and I used to be best friends, but some complicated things happened and we fought. After college, I went to Busan to try to start a new life, but in the end, I couldn’t escape him.”

“O-Oh, were you guys dating? Did he know you were here?” Yugyeom inquired, genuinely curious.

As the drops of rain started to pour around, you answered, “No, we never dated. And it’s all been purely coincidence. I didn’t know he was coming and neither did he. That’s why it was so difficult for us to interact when he first came.”

“Everything makes sense!” Yugyeom exclaimed, making an explosion gesture with his hands. “Wait, did he reply to your arm message?”

You looked down at you arm again and sure enough, the familiar chicken scratch writing appeared.

“I’ll be there in a bit. Stay dry! I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”

“Okay, good. We’re saved.” Chan let out a breath of relief.

In fifteen minutes, Felix was shuffling across the street towards you three, an umbrella in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Why’d you guys go so far? There was literally a convenience store right beside the place we’re staying at,” Felix questioned, unzipping his bag. “Here’s an extra umbrella.”

“Sir Bang—Chan… can I speak with you for a bit on the way home? There’s a bit of concern with one of the Marketing members and I need to discuss it with you,” Yugyeom piped up, grabbing the umbrella from Felix’s hands. “If you don’t mind, I’ll share this with Chan. It’s a personal matter.”

Chan didn’t even get a chance to object before he was pulled away by a swift Yugyeom, who began to babble about his concerns. You and Felix watched them mosey away, chattering about whatever was to be chattered about.

“Uh, let’s go?” Felix cleared his throat, holding the umbrella. You stepped in and began to walk back to the company outing’s venue.

For a while, all that could be heard was just the pitter-patter of the rain as you trudged on in silence. The quietness was so suffocating, you swear you could hear the cawing of a crow muffled beneath the sounds of the rain.

“Hey… you’re getting wet,” the freckled boy mentioned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He dropped his hand quickly after, opening his mouth to speak. “Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable to be so near me, but I just don’t want you to get wet.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Thank you for being so considerate. And for picking us up.”

“It’s no problem, although this?” he said, riding up his jacket sleeve to expose the scribbles on his arm. “A message saying that you were stranded wasn’t exactly what I hoped your first ever arm message to me would be. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I really wished you might’ve saved it to notify me that you brought rice cakes to work or something.”

A giggle escaped your lips as the thought entered your mind. “Well, sorry that an emergency message isn’t as cool as rice cakes. But now that you’ve expressed your sentiments, maybe I will bring rice cakes and use our connection to notify you.”

“I can’t believe you thought of contacting me that way. Couldn’t you have texted?”

“Well, Chan’s phone was left behind, Yugyeom hasn’t payed his bills, and mine’s dead. And even if mine wasn’t dead, I don’t have your number.”

“Ouch, you deleted my number after moving?”

“…I uh… got a new phone?”

“Nah, I’m just kidding you. It’s alright, I totally get it.”

Just as you arrived at the entrance of the recreation center, you halted your steps and turned to Felix.

For the first time in a very, very long time, you found the strength to look him in the eyes. “Uh… wait. I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He turned to you as well, matching your stare. Why were your legs feeling wobbly? Your palms were starting to sweat as well, and you cursed yourself for it. Speaking to Felix properly and serious was something you found extremely difficult to do, but you decided to stop acting like he was a disease you didn’t want to catch.

With a deep breath, you began, “So… it kinda felt nice to be able to talk to you again. You know, not about work. Just…normally. I guess, what I wanted to say was, uh, well, is it okay if we restart? Be friends, maybe? I really hate this discomfort between us, and I think it would be better, even for work, if we got along.”

Silence enveloped the air once again, leaving the both of you in the company of the rain and the passing cars. Thoughts of Felix lashing out and angrily speaking back to you flashed in your head; suddenly, you wanted to scurry off and never see his face again. What if he called you out on all the horrible things you’d done to him in the past? You braced yourself for anger, for rejection.

But instead, the boy in front of you broke into a grin. He even chuckled a little, reaching out his hand.

“Well, in that case,” he spoke, “hi. I’m Lee Felix, it’s nice to meet you. You can call me Felix.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it. “Hey, Felix. I’m [L/N] [Y/N], but feel free to just stick with [Y/N]. Friends?”

“Sure. Friends.”

--

Months after declaring the newfound restart, the budding flower of friendship began its ascent into full bloom. Often times, you asked your grandmother to make you some extra rice cakes to bring to work, that of which you shared with Felix. Sure enough, you kept your promise of notifying him through a small doodle of a rice cake on your wrist. You could have sworn you saw his eyes light up every time he noticed what was on his wrist. There were even nights that you two would stay behind to work on projects together, bringing snacks and drinks to keep you guys powered throughout the extra hours. Productivity rate in your team increased due to you and Felix’s hard work, and this did not go by unnoticed.

As he was passing by Felix’s desk, Chan couldn’t help but notice that Felix’s usually busy computer screen was shut off and that his freckled junior was staring intently at something in his hands. One look over his shoulder and Chan couldn’t help but smile.

He cleared his throat. “What’s that?”

The poor boy almost leaped out of his seat. Shoving the object behind his back, Felix responded, “What’s what?”

Chan motioned to Felix’s hands. “Whatever’s behind you.”

A trickle of sweat dripped down Felix’s clammy fingers. “Just a photo.”

“Ooh, can I see?” Chan pressed on, already knowing exactly what it is the boy held.

“N-No, hyung.”

“Come on. Don’t make me pull the superior card.”

“Fine!” Felix revealed the photo to the man in front of him, ears turning crimson. “Look, I found our graduation picture while rummaging through some of my old stuff, okay? It’s just got me thinking, like…I didn’t realize how much I missed [Y/N] over time. It seems like forever since we graduated high-school, and I still remember how it felt being her best friend. Sometimes, when I see her laugh with Yugyeom, I’m reminded of the times I used to be able to make her laugh like that. I don’t know, I sorta miss it, um, a lot.”

“Hold up, are you jealous of Yugyeom?” Chan raised a brow.

Felix hesitated, turning away. “Don’t phrase it like that, please.”

“Felix,” Chan started, breaking into a grin. “Do you like [Y/N]?”

“Is that so weird?” Felix huffed, burying his face in his arms. “I mean like, she’s my soulmate. But more than that, she’s a friend I really, really treasure. Like, I’ve been thinking about it and it would really suck if she wasn’t in my life. So I kinda came to the conclusion that okay, fine. When I talk to her, it’s not as much so to ask for rice cakes but to actually converse with her. And that I um, do like her. But honestly, between you and me?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a chance this whole ‘liking [Y/N]’ thing isn’t new news.”

--

Now Chan could only be relieved that his team members (namely you and Felix) were finally getting along well, but Yugyeom, on the other hand, would often sometimes send a wiggle of brows in your direction. Of course, this led you to throw crumpled balls of scratch paper at him, but deep down, you too were glad that the office became a more bearable workplace. You were more than thankful to have a good superior, good co-workers, and even a good boss.

On Tuesdays, you’d bring homemade lunch instead of buying from the office canteen. One fateful Tuesday noon, you stood up as soon as lunchbreak started and headed to the staff room to pick up your boxed lunch to heat it up in the microwave. On your way, you thought about handing some extra gimbap to Chan, Yugyeom, and Felix in gratefulness for being good to you. A smile made its way to your face as you entertained the thought, feeling appreciative and enthused that life had been looking up lately.

Just as you were about to open the door to the staff room, a familiar laugh rang in your eyes. Inside the room happened to be your freckled friend, smiling towards a female employee. You easily recognized her to be one of those PR scumbags, and once the realization hit that Felix was mingling with someone from that bloody department, your blood began to boil.

To make matters worse, you caught sight of him handing her what seemed to be a box—and that was all it took for you to storm into the staff room, take your lunch, and stomp outside in the direction of the canteen.

Once you got to your usual table, you plopped down in front of Yugyeom and hastily opened your lunch box.

“Woah there, tiger. What’s with the attitude?” Yugyeom asked, fiddling with his chopsticks. “Oh and by the way, Chan won’t be joining us. He’s in a meeting.”

“Felix is mingling with a girl from PR!” you huffed, stabbing a slice of gimbap and shoving it in your mouth. Between frustrated chews, you managed to sputter, “I’m so ticked off! He gave her a gift, or something!”

Yugyeom almost spit out his water. “What?! No way.”

“Yes way,” you nodded, wiping your mouth. “Saw them in the staff room being all friendly. I mean come on, ugh!”

“Hold on.” Yugyeom squinted his eyes. “Are you jealous?”

This time, it was your turn to almost spit out your water. “Excuse me? Yugyeom, you know how bad it is for someone to flirt with the enemy!”

“Yeah, but like, you sure you’re not just…I don’t know…pissed that Felix was flirting with someone who isn’t you?”

“The hell?” you hissed. “Felix does not flirt with me.”

Yugyeom sighed and rolled his eyes. “If that’s how you think, you are a lost cause, woman. When you write him notes or whatever on your wrist—which by the way, talk about cheesy!—his face lights up like a Christmas tree. And your banter as you do paperwork? Don’t get me started.”

“He gets excited because goodness knows Felix loves rice cakes more than anything. And office banter is nothing but what it is! What, I can’t argue about the better way to appeal to customers? What’s so romantic about different marketing topics? Seriously, do you know how un-sexy ‘Geographic Segmentation’ sounds? Anyway, I’m still upset that loverboy’s sucking up to PR. I mean, really?” you scoffed.

“Who’s sucking up to PR?” A deep voice came, startling you. When Felix took a seat next to you, you rolled your eyes and stood up. Petty, but absolutely necessary. You weren’t going to stand for anyone who mingled with PR. And just like that, you strut off towards your department, deciding that your table was the best place to eat lunch for now.

“I cannot even bear to see you guys sometimes,” Yugyeom exhaled, watching Felix try to comprehend what had just taken place in front of his eyes.

--

One entire week had passed since you started to act cold towards Felix, who had not a single clue what on earth was going on. Every time he tried to speak to you, you brushed it off with some lame excuse about having to think of the best way to brand the company’s latest product or that you were busy with paperwork.

“Chan, did I do something?” Felix questioned one Thursday, leaning on his superior’s desk. His face seemed to be clearly distraught by the furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

“Why? Did you do something?” Chan shot back, typing away at his laptop.

“I don’t know, man! [Y/N]’s been avoiding me like the plague. And she only does that if I do something wrong. Remember when I didn’t show up to our reunion in high-school? When you and the alumni hyungs wanted to hang at the amusement park but I didn’t go? Yeah, she wouldn’t talk to me because she was so upset,” Felix sighed, rubbing his temples. “This time, I don’t even know what’s up. And it sucks. I miss her rice cakes. It’s been a week.”

“Well, try to think of anything that you might’ve done to piss her off. Take her stapler? Send a late file?” Chan suggested, still not looking up from his screen.

“None of that! I swear, I blinked, and then she was mad. This is such bad timing because I want to ask her out for the holidays, and the break is starting soon. I don’t wanna end the year this way!” Felix whined, shoulders slumping.

“Thank me later,” Chan told him, raising his voice, “[Y/N]! Please come over here. There are some files to be looked over pronto!”

“Coming!” you replied, getting off your chair and walking to your superior’s table. But just as you came, he stood up and grabbed his clipboard.

“Actually, I have a meeting about now. But don’t worry, the file that needs to be looked over is—oh wow! Lee Felix.pdf is right here. Amazing. Love you both, see you at lunch!” With a grin, Chan sauntered off.

You folded your arms and tapped your shoes indignantly. “What, Felix?”

“I’m so sorry about Chan,” he apologized, rubbing his hands together. “But I do need to talk to you. Why have you been ignoring me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, Felix. Maybe because someone was being all buddy-buddy last Wednesday with some girl from PR. I mean, are you even for real? How could you flirt with someone from PR?!”

“Wait… are you jealous?”

“Why does everybody automatically assume that I’m jealous?” you snapped. “The answer is no, you idiot! I’m angry because you were mingling with our rivals, our arch nemeses!”

When Felix remembers the events of last Wednesday, a laugh escapes his mouth. “W-What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I clearly saw you being all generous and handing one of the PR girls a gift in the staff room. I have eyes, you know!”

“[Y/N]… no…” Felix started, trying to stifle more laughter. “I wasn’t flirting with her. That girl’s a family friend and I had to return a book that my mom borrowed from her mom. She told me that just because we’re family friends didn’t mean that her department would go easy on us. And I told her, ‘of course’, because I’m loyal to Marketing—I’m loyal to our team. Besides, I already have someone else in mind that I’d like to flirt with.”

You were taken aback. Somewhere deep in the crevices of your heart was a wave of relief mixed with disappointment, but you waved it off and let a giant smirk rest on your lips. “Woah, woah, woah, Lee Felix! Who’s the special someone?”

“Like I’d tell you, cheesebrain.”

“You suck.”

“No, not really. Anyway, you’re going back to Seoul for the break, right?”

“Oh yeah, why?”

“Wanna meet up on the 26th? I’m going home, too,” Felix invited.

“Oh shoot, yeah, sure! I’ll be sure to mark my schedule. I’m free that day anyway. What time to what time?”

“Just keep it flexible. I’ll text you or you know,” Felix motioned to his arm, “maybe I’ll write.”

“Just text me, I might accidentally wash it off.”

“See you then!”

--

The cold winter air was not the only thing that greeted you once you arrived back in Seoul, no. As soon as you set foot into the familiar gates of your home, your parents and relatives showered you with tight squeezes, slobbery kisses, and all sorts of questions. Were you eating properly? Did you have time to go Christmas shopping? How was work? Did you meet your soulmate yet? Was Busan better than Seoul, or Seoul better than Busan?

As much as you wanted to entertain your family with tales of Busan, settling in after a long travel sounded too good to pass. Once you spent an ample amount of time with them, you headed upstairs to your room.

Ah, your room. Upon opening the door, you took a whiff of the comforting scent of your original room, familiarity embracing you like an old friend. You flopped down on the fluffed-up sheets and could not resist a grin.

It was good to be home.

In a few hours, the grandfather clock in the living room would chime, signaling the start of a new day and the beginning of Christmas itself. But for now, you wanted nothing more but to put your mind at rest, leaving all thoughts of work behind at the doorstep. It was just you, your bed, and the chilly winter weather.

But someone—no, rather something—came to join your cozy trio, and it was right there in bright blue ink on your left wrist.

“Hey there. Get home safely?”

With a smile, you grabbed the gel pen in your bag and started to jot down a response.

“I thought you preferred text.”

“My head hurts and I don’t want to use my phone. I’m just resting in my room and hiding from my sisters, who won’t stop asking me about you.”

“Oh, so you’ve discussed me?”

“[Y/N], you never answered my first question.”

“Righty-o, Sir Lee. I did, indeed, come home fine with Grandma. It was fun to bring her home. The family’s stoked we’ve come.”

“Can I have permission to erase lines with wet wipes every few messages? My arm gets crowded. Also, please use a water-based pen. It makes it easier to wipe off.”

“Just text, then.”

“I deleted your number, too.”

“What the hell, Felix?”

“I’m kidding! See you on Kakao!”

--

“So, do I wear this sweater or this blouse? Kinda think the blouse is cute, but the sweater’s practical since the weather’s begging to freeze my butt,” you spoke into your laptop, which displayed a video of Chan furrowing his eyebrows as he took a look at your choices.

“You’re worrying too much. Just go with the sweater, it doesn’t make you look any less cute,” Chan snickered, “it’s so fun to watch my little [Y/N] put so much effort into this.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Just shut up and help me, Chan! Skirt, jeans, or leggings?”

“Skirt? Why would you even suggest a skirt? Damn, girl, you’re asking for frostbite at this point. Go with the leggings and make sure to wear leg warmers. Bring a thick coat, too.”

“Okay, mom. But are you sure this doesn’t make me look like a Christmas tree? Maybe a CHRISmas tree!”

Chan rolled his eyes and sighed. “It won’t be cute if your teeth are chattering and your skin begs to be kept warm. Just dress warmly. Hey, hey, what’s with the sigh?”

“Wait. Yo, yo, I just realized something. It’s just going to be me and Felix I think tomorrow. I-Is that a date or something? What if it is?!”

“Calm down. Did he say if it was or not?”

“I don’t know! He just said he was going to spend the day with me!”

A 480p-quality simper sat on Chan’s lips on the screen. “Are you scared because it might be a date or because he might just be asking you out as a friend?”

“I’m not SCARED, Chan! You know what, that’s honestly the least of my concerns!” you answered indignantly. “What if he stands me up? Remember the amusement park fiasco?”

“Relax, [Y/N]. He will NOT stand you up. Have you seen the way he’s been lately? Felix has been overtiming a lot, he’s always punctual and/or early for meetings, and he makes sure to go to all the places he’s assigned to. Whenever he can’t make it, he always messages a day or two in advance. I think that says something.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Anyway, I’m going to wash up and go to sleep. Thank you so much for taking the time to video chat me. I’m going to go now, merry Christmas! Say hi to unnie for me, please. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, [Y/N]! Good luck. Text me the details of it all! Merry Christmas. Love you too!”

--

Was it irregular to be having hands this clammy, to be having palms this sweaty? Felix pressed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. Okay, great. It was good to know that he was still alive.

‘Agh! This is going to kill me! Please, please, please come soon,’ Felix thought, checking his phone for a new notification. Just in case, he rolled up his padded jacket’s sleeve and checked his arm. Both were devoid of any sign from you.

As if on cue, the freckled boy felt a tap on his back and there you were, bundled up in a cozy outfit. Holy. Crap. He had to fight the urge to squeeze you in his arms.

“H-Hey, [Y/N]. Glad you could make it.” Felix cleared his throat, offering his arm for you to hold. “Um, shall we? Have you eaten lunch?”

“Yeah, I have. You?”

“Same. Anyway, is there anywhere you want to go to?” Felix asked, starting to walk.

You squinted your eyes in thought. “Hmm… I don’t have anything particular in mind.”

“Alright, so it’s 2:45 now. I was thinking that maybe you wanna go to the old arcade? We can spend some time there, then maybe go around the area. Look at a museum if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

--

Laughter filled the air as you clutched your stomach, trying to stop yourself from giggling too much. At this point, you were borderline gasping for air with every guffaw. Felix was doing the same, and he had to hold onto your shoulder to keep himself from stumbling onto the concrete ground.

“I can’t believe you did that, Felix! We could have gotten kicked out of the museum, damn it!” you commented between laughs. “I’m so embarrassed by you now!”

“Not my fault that the little kid wanted to see me bust some dance moves. Yugyeom isn’t the only one in Marketing who can dance, you know,” Felix answered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Whatever, you doofus. What’s next? It’s pretty dark already, so maybe dinner?” you asked, checking your watch.

Felix cleared his throat and his back started to stiffen. “Actually, I have a place in mind.”

You nodded and proceeded to hail a taxi from the waiting stand. Felix whispered something to the driver and you were off, silently sitting in the backseat.

“Where are we going?”

“Shhh, you’ll see,” was all Felix managed to reply before he looked out the window thoughtfully.

As soon as you arrived at the mystery place, Felix payed the cab driver and helped you get out. When you stepped out of the car, your eyes widened. You’d recognize this area anywhere.

For a little, silence was all that was shared between you two as you walked alongside the riverbank, the one place you knew had a special space for in your heart. Back then, this had been you and Felix’s favorite spot to go to after a tiring school day. And on one fateful December 26th, you were back, walking beside him once again.

The frigid wind left you to huddle a little closer than usual to Felix, who didn’t seem to mind. Gentle brushing of the hands led your fingers to intertwine with his, locking safely in his cozy yet sweaty palms; you could only hope he would not hear the erratic beating of your heart pounding against your ribcage with every passing second. This was happening, this was happening, this was happening—and oh dear, you didn’t dislike it.

A few minutes seemed like eternity with Lee Felix. But eternity wasn’t going to cut it for the scene that lay in front of you, the scene he had brought you to.

Sitting on the riverside was a small tent lit dimly by the soft glow of fairy lights, a sight you’d only managed to conjure up in your head once, long ago. But there it was, every bit of it as real as the warm feeling of Felix’s hands in yours.

Your lips parted. “F-Felix, is this…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, leading you to the small tent and helping you take a seat inside. “Uh, there’s some soju in that cooler and some gimbap over there if you want. And japchae. Chopsticks are here.”

“When did you have the time to even prepare this? I swear, you’ve been with me all day,” you questioned, reaching for the chopsticks as Felix cracked open the plastic container of gimbap.

He smiled. “Oh, I called for help from people I know who’d never pass up the chance to aid in this surprise.”

You gasped. “Let me guess. Hyunjin? Jisung? Seungmin, Jeongin?”

He gave you thumbs-up. “My boys.”

“Our boys,” you corrected, shoving a piece of kimbap in your mouth.

A few gimbaps and bites of japchae later, you found yourselves in silence once again, sipping soju from little paper cups.

“So…I think this is the part where I start talking,” Felix began, wiping his mouth. He directed his gaze right at your eyes.

“I hope you liked the little surprise, [Y/N]. Even though… technically… it wasn’t my idea, but yours. Actually, the reason I brought you here was because it’s finally time for me to give something to you, very, very long overdue,” he continued, “when we were in highschool, I didn’t expect us to become friends. Frankly, I though that I annoyed you every time I talked to you at the 4419 bus stop. Remember when we first had a proper conversation? Man, after that, the ball just speeded downhill. Before I knew it, we were an inseparable duo. [Y/N] and Felix. Felix and [Y/N]. Hell, I remember getting poked fun at for it, and people were teasing me that I liked you. Which… honestly, I’ve come to realize…was true. I admit, they were right. It’s actually kind of weird, I’ve only known since recently that I caught some real, big feelings for you back then.”

Here Felix paused to take a sip of water before he went on. “I haven’t forgotten the first time I found out my soulmate link. Blue ink, wrist, all-caps: ‘STUDY’. When I found out that a girl from our school had a similar link, I almost freaked out. But honestly? I only started to flirt with her to um—wow, this is embarrassing—make you jealous. Childish, right? And after a while, ironically, it backfired. ‘Cause I started to like her. Anyway, fast forward, college, right? We all know what happened… then what happened after graduation. I lost you. My soulmate, but most importantly, my best friend. It was the worst because I lost you, and I could have avoided that,” he sighed, “and so here we are. Somehow, life has given us a second chance, and I don’t want to screw this up. So [Y/N], I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry that I did so many stupid things in the past, I’m sorry that I was an awful best friend, I’m sorry that I didn’t fight harder to keep you in my life. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Felix,” you piped up suddenly, “Look, I’m sorry too. I think it’s a failure on both parts because really, maybe if I wasn’t so selfish, we could have avoided the whole fight. I didn’t know you were willing to wait for me until, you know, then. I’ve blamed myself a lot for that, but I’ve come to realize that you know what? It’s alright to make mistakes, and I forgive myself for doing that. And if I can forgive myself, I can forgive you. When we decided to restart our friendship, honestly, I was more than relieved to hear you were on board for it as well. So, can we agree to put all our mistakes in the past?”

“Yes. I’d love that. Man, thank you so much, [Y/N], for giving me another chance. I, too, forgive you for everything. And I’m so glad that you’re back in my life.”

“Aw, come here,” you grinned, opening your arms for a hug. Felix wrapped his arms around you tightly, and for a while, that’s how you two stayed.

“Wait, I’m actually not done,” Felix announced, pulling away. As he opened his mouth to speak, his hands started to shake a little bit.

“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, curious as to what the boy would say next.

“I can’t promise you that I won’t make any more mistakes in the future, but for what it’s worth, I’ve learned from the past. And if anything, anything, happens that causes me to stumble and hurt you, I’m willing to put up a fight to make it right. I can’t promise you that the future holds all flowers and sunshine, but if there’s one thing that I am absolutely, terribly sure of, it is that [Y/N]?”

“Mm?”

“I’m in love with you.”

All you could hear was the faint howling of the wind as you were rendered absolutely speechless. It took minutes to process the words Felix had just spoken, and when you managed to grasp the idea of it, all you could sputter out was, “Really?”

Felix nodded. “Yes. Really.”

“I’ve waited since third-year of highschool for you to say that,” you admitted, mustering all your strength not to smile. “So, can I…kiss you?”

“Yes, yes you can,” he answered, leaning in.

So, slowly, surely, you kissed him. You let the gentle caress of his lips speak for themselves as they locked with your own, causing your heart to beat fervently in your chest. It may have been short, chaste even, but one kiss was all it took for you to confirm the vehemence that had been lurking deep down in the crevices of your entire being.

“I’m sorry that this isn’t as grand as you’d hoped. I remember you told me that you wanted big sparks to fly when you met your soulmate,” Felix laughed nervously, taking the opportunity to rest his hand on top of yours.

You shook your head. “No, I’m glad that it’s you, and I’m glad that this is how it turned out.”

Perhaps if it had been another day in another place at another time, you’d say that loving Lee Felix was quite full of irony. But since you were here, at this specific moment on this specific day in this specific place at this specific time, you could truly and sincerely say that there was nothing ironic about it, that there was nothing paradoxical about loving Lee Felix.

There was only bliss. There was only certainty.

[carvers-hawke]

Siblings

Carver entered the Hanged Man with a glower on his face, anger running rampant enough that he wanted to hit something. It was almost enough to make him regret passing Coop up on the offer to clear out some of the raiders on the Wounded Coast. 

Almost.

Except his back really was still fucked up from their last fight and even worse she had gone. Aveline and her whole holier than thou bullshit--what right did she have to block his application? She hadn’t been Guard Captain then, and even so! Aveline knew their situation--Cooper and them working odd, dangerous jobs to pay for a gamble, Hayden stuck working at what had to be the shittiest tavern in all of Kirkwall. But she thought she knew better than to let him in the Guard because why? Because she happened to only know him for the worst possible year of his whole damn life. 

His hand hit the table with a loud smack, loud enough to make Nora shoot him a dirty look and pivot on her heel away from his little table in the corner. 

And there went his drink with her… great. 

The young man groaned, fingers spearing through his hair and tangling with a sharp pull at his scalp. As if today couldn’t get any fucking worse. 

He let his head fall against the table, a sight cleaner than they were before Hayden had taken up her crusade against the unhygienic conditions, and wondered if it would be too much to ask for lightning to strike him where he sat. But the Maker couldn’t be so kind, could he?

“Alright,” A heavy tankard thunked down less than an inch from his head and Carver lifted his gaze to meet his older sister’s. “You’re scaring away the reputable business, what’s up with you?”

Hayden looked annoyed, hand on her hip and brows pulled together like he was some sort of inconvenience. It didn’t help Carver’s mood at all, and he leaned back to swipe the drink.

“Fuck off and leave me alone.” 

Her lips pinched at the remark, nostrils flaring as he could practically see her heels digging in. They were both stubborn, was the problem; Carver knew that Hayden wouldn’t let his bad attitude go, so it was a stand-off to determine which was more intense--her nosiness or his assholishness.

“Carver.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it, okay?” He snapped, draining the tankard to about half in a few gulps. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Carver.” She repeated again, dragging out the stool next to him and plopping down. “Is it your back? Is that what’s got the stick up your ass?”

Hayden didn’t even wait for him to respond, her hand snaking up the back of the loose shirt he was wearing to press against the knobs of his spine. Carver hissed at the press of icy fingers, resisting the urge to flinch away as they warmed almost immediately. The healing magic oozed into the tired, bruised muscles, and he had to admit… it did ease up the ache.

“Sorry.” Hayden said absently, head tilted in his direction as she focused on her work. “I know I’m not as good at this as Beth or Anders.”

Carver wanted to snap at her; in the middle of a crowded bar was not the place to be using magic. Did she want to get caught and carted off to the Gallows? But he knew it would be useless. Father had taught them long ago how to hide their magic, even when they were using it. And she had to go and be nice, didn’t she? Didn’t even wait for him to admit that he was in pain before moving to soothe it. 

Bethany and Coop were masters at that tactic--it was hard for him to stay mad when his siblings were being nice. And he was especially vulnerable to Hayden’s acts of kindness, because they didn’t come as often or as easily as the other two’s. Not that his sister was cruel, but Beth and Coop were just… they were always nice, affectionate verbally. Hayden kept her emotions close to her chest, emotionally constipated mother liked to joke, but she would always blindside them with thoughtful actions.

Fucking unbelievable.

“Thanks.” He replied gruffly, spine curling to press into her touch. “It’s… sorry. I just.” 

“Things have been stressful.” Hayden offered neutrally, and he could tell that she was choosing her words carefully, avoiding her usual snark. 

The attempt at civility, when normally they’d be snapping and fighting back and forth, was enough to ease his annoyance, and break down his resistance. Because she was trying to connect, trying to talk to him and actually listen, and while they were both bad at it, the fact that she was willing to try... She was always willing to try, and Carver honestly believed that that went a long way.

Carver sucked in a breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out in a long exhale. “My application to the guard got declined.”

“Did you… talk to Aveline?” She asked carefully. “She could have put in a good word. Plus, you clearly have experience with that thing.” 

Carver rolled his eyes, sitting forward a little. “Wow, no why didn’t I think to ask Aveline--of course I asked Aveline, I’m not an idiot!”

Her hand dropped in surprise at the bite in his voice, and Carver immediately felt contrite. “She’s the one who blocked my application. Doesn’t think I’d make a good guard, that I ‘won’t put other people first’.” 

“Hm.” Hayden stood suddenly, and he could see her jaw working back and forth. “Well, she’s right, you’d make a terrible guard.”

The words came as such a shock, cutting deep, that Carver didn’t even have a response ready as his sister walked away. He sat there, stunned and hurt, and the only thing he could think to do--body working automatically--was finish his drink. Carver blinked fiercely at the sting in his eyes, heart sinking as he stared down at his hands wondering why he’d even bothered to come. Hayden could be brusque sometimes, sure, but she wasn’t intentionally cruel. Which meant… did she really think that?

It hurt more than it should have, and he was angry at himself for caring about her opinion at all, when she came back carrying a replacement drink, as well as a shot of dark brown liquor in a small glass.

“But Aveline is wrong about the reason.” She continued, completely oblivious to the way Carver had hunched in on himself, hands clenched in his lap. “Unfortunately for you, Carv, in this particular situation, you’re a good person. You have a strong sense of right and wrong, you know? You become a guard, and you’d want to uphold actual justice, not the law.”

“Fuck off, Hayden. You’re an asshole you know, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. Just say Aveline is right and be done with it.” He didn’t want her pity, and he didn’t want her false attempts at cheering him up.

His sister set the drinks down in front of him, before resuming her seat. “No, listen. I didn’t mean that as an insult Carver. Fuck--you’re too fucking good for the guard! What do they even do? Not protect the people, that’s for damn sure. They’re just there to uphold the status quo of Hightown.” 

She shook her head sharply, a look of disgust on her face. “You remember when we were sent by that magistrate, to bring in that apostate Kelder? And what were the fucking guard doing? Sitting around with their thumbs up their asses. Did they give a fuck that he had a child held hostage down there with him? Did they care about what would happen to her? No!”

“No! Because the magistrate wanted him brought in alive. Didn’t even mention that he was a mage escaped from the Circle--which would have made it Templar business. That man abused his position of power, and the guards just went along with it.” Hayden swiped her hand irritably across her cheek, eyes blazing. “You would have gone in there and saved that girl, regardless of orders, because it was the right thing to do.”

Carver looked at his older sister in shock, but she kept going. “Law enforcement cannot be just and right if the laws themselves are unjust. And how can the laws be just if they’re written and decided upon by a bunch of rich people who have no idea of what anyone else goes through? Or worse, they’re rich because of what other people go through.” 

“Hayden…” He wanted to ask if she’d been reading one of Anders’ manifestos, but she barreled right over him.

“And furthermore! Fuck Aveline! She might not be as openly corrupt as Jevlan was, and sure she won’t let any of the really heinous shit slide, but still--she was their Guard Captain, she is culpable for the moral fiber of her subordinates.” She continued. “You would be miserable as a guard, but more than that you’d be vocal and unafraid to call people out on their bullshit--and to them, it’s more important to be seen as a unified front than to admit that some of their practices might be wrong.”

Eventually she needed to take a breath, and Carver watched his big sister angrily drink her water. There was a flush that darkened her cheeks, and her normally light grey eyes--the same as his--were stormy and dark. The outrage was obvious in her body language, and Carver had to stop the grin that was threatening his mouth. 

The ferocity of her defense of him, the livid frustration entirely on his behalf, of course she didn’t think Aveline was right. 

“You know, for the record maybe next time don’t just say ‘Aveline was right’ and walk away.” He offered dryly. 

Realization flashed hot with embarrassment following as Hayden choked on her drink, sending a little bit spraying--thankfully not in his direction. “I--Andraste’s ass, when will I get better at this shit?”

Never, probably, and when he pointed that out--unable to help himself because even when she was being nice, Carver was still a little brother and they still communicated mainly through bickering--she socked him squarely on the arm. 

“You’re a dickhead.” Hayden insisted. “Shut up and drink, Carver.”

It was a free drink after all, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence then.

It didn’t last long; Hayden was frowning again, but this was less angry and more thoughtful. “She’s wrong about you not putting other people first, too.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Carver snorted. “I don’t like not having a choice about it though. Then it’s fake.”

“I… ugh. You—” She struggled for words, hands fluttering as she tried to catch trail of her thoughts.

“Take your time, don’t want to overwork the squirrel that runs in your head.” He teased, snickering at the look that she gave him.

Hayden made a childish face at Carver, kicking him lightly under the table. “I’m trying to say something nice Carver, and I want you to know that after that comment I don’t mean any of it.”

He waved a hand to let her continue, thumb rubbing circles along the rim of the tankard.

“I know that things have always been difficult for us. And that, due to certain… things,” She gave a furtive glance around for any possible eavesdroppers, “that afflict Beth and I, that everyone has always been stressed to a point. In terms of attention and opportunity you and Coop had to draw the short straw--you in particular--and that wasn’t fair. Even if we couldn’t help it, and even if mom and dad tried the best they could, it still wasn’t fair.” 

Carver looked at his sister, really looked at her, and he could see that she was struggling to find the right words. She wasn’t a verbal person, when it came to connecting, and the fact that she was making an effort--Carver didn’t doubt her sincerity, he couldn’t. Because he knew her so well, and he knew that she believed every word wholly. 

“But you always put us first. You’ve always been there to keep an eye on us, and protect us.” Her fingers curled absently, and he was certain they were both thinking of the incident at the end of the summer. “So I just want you to know, whether you’re doing it because you want to, or because you have to, I see you. I see what you’re doing, and we don’t say it enough, but I’m grateful.”

Both of her hands reached out for his, and Carver instinctively covered them with one palm, willing some of his own body heat into the chilled digits. “There’s something great in you, Carver. Something that hasn’t gotten the attention it deserves--but I know it will. And once it does… you’re going to do something great. Because that’s who you are already; a hero. I know it, Beth and Coop know it, we just have to step back and let you show it off.”

There was a tightness in his throat when she rested her head carefully on his shoulder, leaning into the shelter of his side. The recognition, the acknowledgement of his worth beyond just being the youngest Hawke, it meant a lot to him, and Carver squeezed Hayden’s hands in silent thanks. These sorts of moments, soft and vulnerable, were rare between them, and that made them all the more precious. 

Unfortunately, though, Hayden was technically working--she couldn’t spend all night sitting and making him feel better. And a pointed cough from Corff had her eventually straightening up, fracturing the moment.

“Hey, uh,” She stood again, collecting his empty cups. “Stay until I get off? We can grab our gear, maybe Merill and anyone else who’s up and about, and show those Guardsmen what they’re missing? I heard that the Sharps Highway men were prowling around Lowtown.”

Well, he had wanted to hit something today, and his back was feeling a lot better.

“Now you’re speaking my language.” He grinned. “Show em how it’s done.”

The expression was matched on her face and she nodded. “Sounds like a plan, oversized little brother.” 

“Sounds like a plan, you bony gremlin.” Carver responded easily, barking out a laugh as she flipped him off over her shoulder. 

[gusenitsaa]

Whump-etition: Prompt from @badthingshappenbingo “I know you’re in there somewhere” fight. 

 Jones Brothers pain.  It’s me.  What do you expect these days

  @icecubelotr44 @pirate-owl @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable

"Are you certain, Captain Jones?” Killian’s jaw tightened and the little magician flinched back a bit.  “Sir.  I meant s-”

“I was told you are more powerful that you look.  Was I deceived?”

“I can bring him back,  if you’re-”  Killian glared at the little man and his words trailed off.

“What do you need?"

“Protection.”

Killian raised an eyebrow.  “I offered you payment not protection.”  

The man stuck his chin up defiantly though it trembled a bit.  “That’s my price.  I do this for you,  you take me away from here.  Get me to-”

“I do not take passengers.”   The man opened his mouth to argue and despite the trembling in his frame it made Killian think better of him.  “But,” Killian continued.  “I can arrange your transport with a discrete person who will see you safe to your destination for the right price.  Is that acceptable?”  The man nodded and set about arranging a variety of strange items in a circle as Killian looked on.  

This is a bad idea. 

The voice sounded like Liam.  

The voice in his head telling him something was a bad idea usually sounded like Liam...

“Tell me about him.”

“His name was Liam Jones.  He was my brother.”

“I need more.”

“More?”

“Yes,” the man sounded exasperated,  more confident now that terms were agreed to.  “This is complicated magic.  A name isn’t enough.  Tell me about him.”  

“He was...”  Killian paused,  his throat tightening.  The words wouldn’t come.  How could he possibly put his big brother into words. “He was older.  Not as much older as he acted sometimes.  He could be a stubborn ass but he always...  he always knew what to do.  Was always so certain, so...”  he closed his eyes.  “He was noble.  Loyal to the realm.  Never did a bad thing in his life.  He even died nobly.  Stopping a treacherous king from poisoning the realm.”

The magician rolled his eyes.  Actually rolled his eyes.  “It’s not a eulogy, Captain. And the magic requires honesty. No one is perfectly good all the time.”  

Killian stiffened defensively.  “Liam was,” he hissed.  

The man shrugged,  “if you say so.” The magician handed him back Liam’s log book.  “This will stabilize the magic. Write it down,  what you just told me and protect it, or you’ll lose him again.”  Killian nodded,  filling an empty page with the description of his brother he’d given the man.

“Where did he die?” the magician asked finally after several long minutes.  

“What?���

“Your brother.  Where did he die?”

“My ship.”

“Get there.”

“What?”

“I’d hurry.”  

It was possible the man was playing a cruel joke.  It was possible he was a fraud and he’d be gone by the time Killian returned alone from this fools errand.  It was possible.  But maybe ... just maybe...  

Killian ran.  

His heart sank as the Jolly Roger came into view.  Nothing out of the ordinary. The men were repairing cosmetic damage to the hull from a particularly nasty squall.  No indication that his Captain,  his brother had returned home.  His face heated in anger and shame.  He’d been deceived.  Again.  One more fraud with no more power to bring Liam home than he had.  

His pace slowed as he approached the ship, gathering himself,  placing the mask carefully,  layers of sternness and anger and bitter cold between himself and the crew.  No one spoke to him.  No one dared.  

He threw back the hatch and climbed down into the cabin without bothering with a lamp, crashing to the floor gracelessly.  He was pouting like a petulant child and he knew it,  but it didn’t matter.  Not anymore.  Something hit him like the kick of a particularly ornery mule,  shoving him hard against the wall as he scrambled for his sword bringing it up just in time to block a blade coming at his throat.

"Do you really wish to add striking a superior officer to your crimes, pirate?”  

Killian’s blade fell with a thud,  no doubt leaving a chip in the polished wood of the cabin.  “Liam?”

“That’s Captain to you.” 

Killian grinned, his heart swelling for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dimness below.  Liam wasn’t smiling. 

And his blade did not fall.  

“Liam-” he tried again tentatively

“Captain.  What the hell were you thinking, Lieutenant.  This is mutiny.  This is treason.”

“You-  brother, you died.”  He held the log book in trembling fingers.  “Gods he did it.  He actually did it-”  There was something in Liam’s eyes.  Something wrong.  Something not Liam. but Killian’s mind was spinning,  in too much shock to process it.  “The magic is tied to this book.”  He placed it carefully on the desk.  “If we keep it safe-”

“You chose treason over reporting to the admiralty?” Liam interrupted. “You always were a damned fool.”

The words stung and Killian shrank in on himself “I’m sorry Li-  Captain.  I’m sorry.”  

“You will be.  You’ll hang for this, little brother.  You’ve gone too far this time,  even I can’t save you now.”  Liam tightened the grip on his blade and looked contemplative for a moment.   “The penal code allows for some discretion.”  Liam sighed.  “Make your peace, brother.”  Something softened in his eyes for a moment.  “It won’t hurt. I’ll make it quick.” 

There were a few moments of silence in which Killian could do little other than stare.  He carefully set the book down and then suddenly Liam’s sword flew again.  His own rose to meet it by habit rather than choice, his mind still spiraling out of control. He trapped the blade against the wall, its tip dug into the solid wood.

“This ... Isn’t you.  Liam, please.  I know you’re in there somewhere. Come back.”

“I am back.  And I have to make this right.” Liam scowled.  “Don’t fight me, little brother.  Their just punishment would be painful,  it would take time.  You are a pirate and a traitor but you are my brother.  Let me give you a good death,  a quick death.  For what we once were-"  Liam jarred his blade loose and came at him again,  Killian met him blow for blow,  muscle memory protecting him with rapid parries as Liam advanced.  

The sound of metal clashing had drawn the crew to the hatch and Killian threw out a hand to stop them coming down into the cabin. “Stay back-” he ordered and they hesitated.  

“Liam, listen to me-”

“No, little brother.  Listen to me.  This cannot continue.  The treason, the piracy, the drink and the gambling.  It’s wrong.  It must end.”  

“And what they did to you?” Killian snapped,  “Should I have served an unjust King who did that?” 

“You swore an oath,” Liam spat,  bringing his blade down again,  Killian side stepped it but fell off balance for a moment,  steadying himself against the wall as Liam turned to face him again.  “You swore to serve, and you betrayed that oath.”

“No, brother.  Our King betrayed us."  

Liam advanced again,  feinting and redirecting so quickly that Killian could not quite recover.  Liam’s blade sank into his bicep and Killian cried out, sharp pain lancing up his arm and making him drop his blade.  

Liam hesitated.  It wasn’t much but Killian saw it.  Liam’s eyes slid out of focus for a moment, then locked in on Killian again,  drawn to the scarlet blood dripping down his arm.  

“I’m sorry, brother,”  Liam said,  his voice shaky now.  “I’m sorry I didn’t teach you better.  I’m sorry it’s come to this.”  

“Don’t do this, Liam,” Killian whispered quietly,  making no attempt to retrieve his blade.  “This isn’t you.  The magic that brought you back... it’s wrong... somehow.  But we can fight this.  We can fix this-” 

“Treason is punishable by death,” Liam insisted,  his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his blade suddenly shaky.  “I swore to uphold the laws of the realm-” he shook his head,  as though pestered by an irritating gnat that he couldn’t shake.  His blade fell a fraction of an inch and then he turned retrieving the log book from the desk and examining it carefully.  He flipped open the book to the end and read for a moment.

A sigh of relief passed through Killian’s lips and he struggled to his feet, one hand still tight over his bleeding bicep.  

“The magic.  It’s tied to this?”

“Aye.”

Liam nodded and set it back down on the desk,  turning to face Killian.  

“I want to kill you.”  His face was eerily calm and Killian’s heart clenched.  “You’re a traitor to the realm and a pirate and I need to...”  Liam clenched his jaw for a moment,  his knuckles white on the hilt of his sword.  He looked at Killian for a moment,  pale and leaning against the wall. 

When Liam moved it was so quickly Killian had no time to dodge the blow.  No time to dive for his sword to block it.  He closed his eyes and waited for the pain. 

The pain didn’t come.  

Killian opened his eyes.  

Liam’s blade was stuck in the solid wood of the desk... through the bespelled log book. 

No.

Killian looked to Liam who had a small smile on his face,  a stubborn gleam in his eye and a scarlet stain of blood blooming slowly across his shirt.

“No!” Liam staggered and sank to the floor but this time Killian was there to catch him.  “Liam, what have you done-”

Liam smiled weakly.  

“Treason.”