#reeling off the wheel au

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You duck your head just before you can glance off the metal. Walter shoves you into the passenger seat gruffly as you drunkenly gold against his strength. You dizzy pull your feet inside as he grips the door and barely get them out of the way before he slams it. You shake your head, try to break free of the haze. Ugh, too much vodka.

The car jostles as he rips open the driver's door and the axel dips beneath his weight. He growls as he snaps the door shut and ram the keys into the ignition. He lets the engine idle as he shifts in his seat. He slips his phone out and taps with his thumb. He could crack the screen. You grasp your own cell and check for messages.

He huffs and drops his phone in the cupholder. He pulls the seatbelt across his burly figure and clicks it into place. He glares over at you as he slaps a hand around the ridge steering wheel, "buckle up."

You obey. The nightstand taken a rotten twist and the sooner it's over the better. You just need to find Faye. You do up your belt and grab your phone again. You key in a message without a care for typos. Where is she? You suspect she might be too distracted to answer.

He reverses out sharply and you lean into the door. You look up, the streetlights glaring in your vision, then another light draws your attention. His phone is still bright. You squint at the map on the screen and the dot pulsing a couple blocks away.

"What the hell?" You bend to see clearer and he resches over to shove you back against the seat. "You're tracking her?"

"None of your business, " he sneers. "That's fucked up," you say. "You got a nasty mouth. Now I know where she got that from."

"I didn't raise her," you scoff. "Why the hell am I here if you got GPS on her--"

"Because for once you're gonna face consequences for your actions," he growls as he turns the corner without slowing down.

"Stop the car," you demand.

"Shut up."

"Stop!" You pull on the door handle futilely, "let me out."

"Don't do that," he barks as he keeps his foot on the gas.

"Let me out!" You raise your voice, "let me the fuck out, Walter."

"Mr. Marshall," he retorts meanly. "Stop fucking around."

"I said. Let. Me. Out." You hit his shoulder with your fist and the wheels swerve. He slams on the brakes and you lurch back in your seat.

"Hey!" He roars and reaches over to grab your wrist. He twists and you whine. "You're gonna get us fucking killed."

"No, you are."

"You ever shut that mouth," he sneers as you try to free your arm, only further stressing the tendon. You whimper and bring your other hand up to try to peel away his fingers.

"Let me go." He huffs and releases you.

You recoil and rub your wrist as you pout. You're quiet as you evaluate the throbbing in your muscles.

"You know, I don't think you'd want someone treating Faye like this," you murmur.

"Shut up," he mutters as he eases onto the gas.

"No, stop, I'm getting out."

"You're not going anywhere," he quickly builds speed again. "And you're not going to talk about my daughter again."

"Well... you put your hands on me. What kind of man--"

"I'd hate to think of the boys you call men," he spits.

You reel at his inference. Is he calling you a slut? He would laugh at the truth.

"Whatever," you cross your arms and sit back, fingers still tingling.

He drives on in silence, only his grumbles underlining his slow breaths. You don't get it. How is it always your fault? You got better grades than Faye, you did extracurriculars, it isn't your fault you couldn't afford tuition.

You don't spill any of these gripes to Walter. He would care. He doesn't care. He just needs someone to blame besides his precious daughter. If only he knew how many times you kept her from worse mistakes.

You peer out the window, yellow blocks of light flicking in between the dark. You had a bad feeling about tonight. You saw right through Faye. You knew she wasn’t coming for you. These days, your hang outs rarely end up being just that. You just don’t know why. She’s changed.

Or maybe she’s outgrowing you. She’s in college and you’re working down at the diner, scrounging tips to pay your mother’s rent. You slump down as the drunkenness coaxes your self-pity to the surface.

Your eyes wander across the dashboard. It’s not old and grimy like your mother’s used Chrysler. It has bluetooth and lights and the heat works. There isn’t a crack down the plastic and it doesn’t smell like cigarettes.

It was easier in high school to pretend you belonged with Faye. You still had that layer of naivete that made you believe things could get better for you. Well, life’s begun and you’re just the same as you ever were.

You’re rattled suddenly as he shakes you, his large hand on your shoulder, “wake up.”

“Hey,” you shrug him off, “I’m awake.” You swat him away again, “don’t touch me.”

He blows out between his lips and snorts, bringing his hand back to the wheel. You sit up and turn your eyes back out the window. He’s just another person in your life who thinks they can mistreat you. His temper tantrum is nothing to you, just like you’re nothing to him.

[strawberrylemonwedge]

Fuck it, modern au mdzs driving style headcanons (us american version srry)

wei wuxian - he rests his left wrist limply over the top of the steering wheel, his right arm is gesticulating at his passenger as he chatters away the whole drive or he’s leaning it on the center arm rest, body always slightly angled towards the passenger seat even when it’s empty. He always drives at least 5 over the speed limit, but sometimes accidentally more if he’s not paying attention

jiang cheng - left hand firmly at 10 o’clock, right hand loosely at 3ish, sitting straight against his seat at 90 degrees if there’s anyone else in the car. When he’s by hiself and ONLY by hiself he’s got his left hand in a loose grip on the top of the steering wheel and his right arm leaning comfortably on the center arm rest similar to wwx but he’d die before he lets anyone think he’s copying his brother, Least of all wwx!!

lan wangji - a proper 10 and 2 position sitting stick straight, eyes on the road. Wei wuxian is of course a menace of a passenger spending the ride trying to distract him with his hands on his thighs, practically crawling in his lap to whisper in his ear. Lan wangji doesn’t cave of course but the steering wheel certainly does

lan xichen - a proper 10 and 2 position a bit more relaxed than his brothers, fingers looser and curled a bit more on the back of the wheel. Xichen actually Loves driving and the little break if affords him from his responsibilities. He finds it relaxing to drive solidly at the speed limit with his favorite music playing

nie mingjue - he drives with his window rolled down in almost all weather, left arm resting along the door or dangling outside. His right hand tightly gripping 2 o’clock. If he tends to drive with his sleeves rolled up so he can flex that arm when xichen is in the passenger seat, that’s honestly no one’s business

nie huaisang - if his da-ge is in the car, huaisang has both hands properly on the wheel, seat pulled forward so he can see over the dash, never driving more than 5 over the speed limit. If his da-ge is Not in the car his ass is driving with his damn knees, both hands on his phone, only occasionally grabbing the steering wheel (which is adjusted to the lowest setting) to turn, or if a cop is nearby. He’s watching reels, texting, and playing dj bc no one else is allowed to pick the music in his car

xue yang - ok his left foot is propped up on his seat, left arm resting on that knee, with a very loose two-finger-one-thumb hold on the steering wheel. His seat is leaned back so far you could say he’s lounging. His right arm sits on the center armrest when he isn’t reaching over to poke at xingchen or tug his hair or flip off other cars. A-Qing isn’t allowed to sit anywhere other than the backseat even if Xingchen isn’t riding with them, but he does secretly slip songs he knows she enjoys into their playlist if he’s feeling nice (only if he likes the songs too tho)

what do we think?? also bonus points if you can guess who i drive most similarly to lol

edit - there’s a junior quartet version now, tag yourself~

[howlingday]

D&D au jaune thought he didn't have talent for magic until one day he insulted a goblin so bad it just fucking died. walk us through the adventures of the blonde bard jaune arc and his best spell vicious mockery

I wish I was more familiar with Bards, and I also wish I answered this with Tom Cardy's "Perception Check". Sadly, I've played a bard once in a now long dead campaign and two mini-campaigns, and I already gave the Tom Cardy treatment to Nora. That said, here's Bard!Jaune

-------------------------------------

"Fellas, fellas, please." Jaune waved his hands defensively as thugs pressed closer to bring harm to him. It wasn't his fault all the girls were giving him all the unwanted attention. It was an occupational hazard, just like pissing off a bunch of drunken bullies. Like right now. "Come now, can't we settle this without violence?"

"No chance, cheese-hair!"

"Cheese-hair?!" Jaune jumped back. "At least I have hair that looks like cheese, where ass your head is as bald as a newborn elephant's asshole!"

The bald foe reeled back, covering his head. In the far back corner, another bald patron left the tavern in tears. The others, heads much fuller of flowing locks, pressed further. One of them grabbed Jaune by his collar, foul miasma spilling through stained teeth.

"Ugh!" Jaune held a hand over his nose. "You do realize urinal cakes AREN'T real cakes, don't you? What goes into the lavatory is supposed to stay in the lavatory, not go back inside you!"

Jaune landed on his feet as he was dropped, and thick hands clasped shut the port hole of the offending odor. Light chuckles that started filling the room were now building into light rumbles of laughter. The third and final foe stepped forward, tossing a fist without warning. Jaune caught the strike with his face and flew across the stage and into the back wall. It was time to break out the big guns.

"You call that a punch?" Jaune stood from the floor, fire in his eyes. "Your mother hit me harder than that, and that was after I already tired her out with my TRUE bardic skills. But she wasn't the only one, of course, because both your sister AND your father wanted a piece of the action, too!"

The tavern nearly exploded, roaring with laughter as Jaune roasted this man's entire family with his vicious sling of insults. People were in tears, but not nearly as much as this man who had fallen to the floor in a blubbering mess. Taking his instrument in hand, Jaune left the stage, holding his hat out to anyone who wanted to give him his due of gold and silver and coppers.

However, one person had been watching him the entire time and made an important decision. There was an important mission that required people of as many skills as possible in order to get the sweetest score of all. And it would need a bit of sweet talking to help grease the wheels to get there.

That's why Roman Torchwick decided to snag Jaune as soon as he could to get the job done.

[withclawandvine]

GOT LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD — the wrong place at the right time

summary: Elain was supposed to be in paradise with her fiancè, not alone at an airport bar, held hostage by a storm. Lucien was only supposed to be in Las Vegas for a few days on business, before flying back home on the Vanserra jet. They weren’t supposed to meet, but fate is funny like that.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59610724/chapters/152036788

author’s note: happy @elucienweekofficial !!! i had SO MUCH FUN writing this one. it’s all a modern au, obviously, but the other prompts are woven in! i had every intention of posting a chapter per day(ish) this week, but i went to the george r.r. martin school of writing, so…. that didn’t happen lmao but here’s the first of the planned five parts to get the ball rolling !!

The moment the wheels of the 757 traveling south from San Francisco to Las Vegas touched down, the sky split open, unleashing a seasonal monsoon with wind speeds and torrential rainfall surpassing any other that year.

Most people would consider it a stroke of good luck — a small miracle, even — that plane hadn’t been struck from the sky by a bolt of lightning.

Elain Archeron knew better.

She knew this storm was just one more incident in the chain of mishaps shackled to this vacation.

First, there was Graysen unceremoniously breaking their engagement two months ago, leaving Elain with a voluminous white gown taking up all the room in her closet, a box of unaddressed invitations collecting dust, and a nonrefundable booking for an all-inclusive luxe resort in St. Barts — the Christmas gift Gray had insisted she take for herself and a friend, all with that heavy dose of that new money condescension he was so versed in.

If she’d been smart, Elain would have given the tickets to the retired couple next door, but instead, she’d called Feyre.

Her little sister had suffered her own heartbreak earlier in the year, and although she pretended to be over it, Elain knew she was still reeling. Tamlin would have never let Feyre leave the country without him. Or, more accurately, Tamlin wouldn’t have let Feyre leave the backyard without him.

So it felt exceptionally cruel when Ferye called, voice weak and miserable, to tell Elain she had food poisoning and wouldn’t be able to make the trip. Hell, she’d lamented. I’ll be lucky if I make it out of the bathroom anytime soon.

With her plane departing in a few hours, Elain knew her only choice was to either call the whole thing off, or go it alone.

She enjoyed solitude; she liked gardening alone, and was a lunchtime regular at the little cafe down the street. But in the weeks since moving out of Graysen’s townhouse, she’d been spending most of her time confined to her new apartment, and if it went on for much longer, she’d evolve into a Gothic heroine.

She knew she needed a change of scenery, lest she start clawing at the wallpaper.

A man taking a sharp corner without looking up from his phone narrowly avoided a head-on collision with Elain; instead, he clipped her suitcase, wrenching it from her hand. It clung to the stranger’s carryon for a few paces, then dropped to the floor.

Before it could get swept up by the chaotic and restless crowd, Elain snatched the handle of her suitcase and righted it. The bag wobbled, then settled crookedly to the right. Within seconds of realizing he small, black wheel on the ground near it did in fact belong to her luggage, someone’s foot sent it skittering over the tile.

Elain watched it pinball out of sight, unable to contain her sharp, deranged laugh.

Just like that, the trip had gone from unfortunate to downright cursed — that little wheel was no mere inconvenience. It was an omen, just as powerful as any broken mirror or bolt of lightning. Clearly, the universe was trying to tell her that a hurricane was foredoomed to materialize on the first day of her stay, and wash her away by the third. Or that the long-inactive volcano would spontaneously erupt. Perhaps the plane would evanesce into the Bermuda Triangle.

She should have stayed home. She wanted to go home. Spend the next ten days of her hard-won PTO rewatching Bridgerton. Make a batch of her famous death-by-chocolate brownies and an espresso martini. Get petty satisfaction out of knowing how much of Graysen’s money was being wasted.

But as it was, Elain wasn’t on her way to an island or her Bay Area apartment; there was only one place she could go right now.

She all but stomped, her suitcase limping awkwardly behind her, in the direction of the nearest bar.

Elain collapsed onto a barstool and ordered something sweet, tropical, and strong. The bartender looked annoyed by her lack of specificity, but had the good grace not to say anything about it as he shook up then presented her with a mango mojito with an extra shot of rum.

Elain closed her eyes and took a sip, imagining she was basking in the sun as the tide lapped at her brightly-pedicured toes.

Her conjured serenity dissipated when she felt someone settle into the stool beside her.

A man in a perfectly tailored suit flagged the bartender. It was the kind of suit that spoke of money and importance — the kind of suit that ordered top-shelf whiskey, neat.

So Elain couldn’t help but look to him in surprise when he said, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

Sensing her attention, he turned his head to flash her an easy smile, shrugging as if to say What about it?

He was captivating; his sharp suit so at odds with his long hair, tied back in a way that was almost thoughtless. Artfully messy, with a few loose strands framing a face made up of pointed features that screamed mischief. A scar, now faint with age, was carved into the left side of his face from brow to jaw, pulling slightly at the corner of his mouth. That mouth — the only soft part of his face.

Elain watched him take a hearty drink of his cocktail.

“That’s fucking delightful.” He said this to Elain as if she’d been the one to make it for him, not just put the idea in his head by sipping on her own. To the bartender, he said, “We’ll need two more of these, please.”

She blinked at him. “We?”

“What?” His smile was a little lopsided and a lot teasing. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

When Elain gave the waiting bartender a thumbs-up, the man’s smile grew.

God, he needed to keep that thing in check.

He extended a hand. “I’m Lucien.”

She took it, letting his fingers engulf hers. “Elain.”

He repeated her name to himself softly and fondly, like they do in the movies.

“Well, Elain, where are you supposed to be right now? Assuming a bar in the Las Vegas airport wasn’t your final destination.”

Maybe it was that second mojito, but telling Lucien the story about Graysen dumping her within weeks of their big, romantic getaway, and months of their wedding was surprisingly easy.

“So yeah,” she shrugged, stirring the melting ice and crushed mint around the glass with her straw. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Lucien agreed, pushing a water she didn’t even notice him ordering at her.

“What about you? Were you in town for business or pleasure?”

“First it was business.” He flashed her a secretive smile, “Now it’s a pleasure.”

“Well, it must have been one nightmare of a business trip if this is your —”

Elain’s phone buzzed on the counter.

ATTN: Flight MAF608 LAS to MIA has been POSTPONED until 6:00 AM PST. For more information, reply HELP

Elain set her phone back down, then, without uttering a word, slid the water away, giving herself enough room to let her forehead fall to the countertop with a dull, defeated thud.

“Everything alright?”

She turned her head enough to look at Lucien with one eye. “I am going to die in this airport.”

He picked her phone up. “You’re going to die in the next…” he squinted at the screen, “ten hours?”

“If I’m lucky,” she grumbled, “it’ll be in the next two.”

Lucien’s laugh was rich and bright. Elain wanted to be annoyed at him for laughing at her misery, but the sound was so perfectly joyous, she could only manage a half-hearted pout.

“You’re laughing,” she said. “I’m going to spend the night on this barstool and you’re laughing.”

A prospect that still somehow seemed more dignified than calling Graysen to ask for money to cover a night in a hotel. The only reason she could go on this trip in the first place was because of his fancy tech job and guilty conscience.

“The business I was in town for,” Lucien said, making a show of snuffing out his laughter and becoming serious. “It was with a hotel on the Strip that my family does business with. I can make arrangements for you to stay there.”

Elain smiled, even as she shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but —”

“Please,” he insisted, sweeping up her tab with his own, and placing a black Amex on top. “It would be no trouble at all.”

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Resistance AU: Chewtoy, Alt: Bad End Timeline: close to the end

Fever Dog [First | Prev]

A dog barks at the end of its chain. Barks, and barks, and barks. Sharp, echoey sounds like rocks falling into a well. Is this what a dog sounds like? Bark, and bark, and bark, pulling at the chain and the chain clinks and the dog barks.

They kick the dog. Every day, in his heavy boots, steel-toed boots with scuffs on with thick black polish on. He kicks the dog and it yelps, it whines, it whimpers, it growls, and always it gets hit. In rain and in snow and in sweltering summer heat and the smell of tarmac. The dog yelps, barks, growls, whines, sunrise sunset.

The sun wheels across the sky, kaleidoscope shadows, red sun yellow sun long shadows like a nature film and that click-click-click-click film reel noise they used to play at the start of movies. Sunrise sundown sunrise sundown or the sky is still and the world is spinning full circle, upside down, dizzying, unrelenting.

Bark, bark, bark, bark, there is the dog again. At the end of its chain and howling. Every day beaten and kicked but when he calls to it every day it comes slinking, snarling, low to the ground miserable but it comes to his call. 

He is calling now but the dog is still barking. Does it hear him? Does it hear him over the sound of its own voice? Does it even hear itself or is the bark bark bark so constant it is nothing, just nothing, just noise, and the dog doesn’t even know.

Every day the beating and the dog still crawls but sometimes a kicked dog bites. One day the kicked dog bites, and buries its teeth in his throat and shakes him like a rat. One day the dog remembers it is a dog with finger-long teeth and jaws that clench hold strain ache hurt cling bite bite.

—

Riven curses, and slaps her upside the head. It doesn’t dislodge her grip, just jolts her teeth in his skin. 

“Where the fuck did that come from?” 

He thought she was out cold, or near as. Eyes pointed at nothing, unresponsive to his hands and to the kiss of the knife. 

He digs the fingers of his free hand into the muscles of her jaw. When that doesn’t work, he gets a hold of her by the nose to prise her jaw open by force until he can yank his hand free. The skin tears a little further, caught on her lower teeth.

She snaps after him, teeth clacking together like a mechanical trap. She still has those dead eyes, not even looking at him.

“Dirty little bitch,” he growls, “I knew you were still in there.”

Ignoring the blood trickling down his fingers, he grabs one of her shattered hands and twists, feeling the shards of bone grind together between his fingers. That’s gonna have to come off soon before it poisons her blood.

She arches her back and screams – or tries. Her voice is a wisp of a thing as ruined as her body, more breathy hiss than real scream. Ribs move unnaturally under her skin as her chest heaves for air.

“You want to die, bitch?” he hisses. “I know you do. Beg me, and I might consider it.” Still the same vacant stare, not even looking at him. “You remember how to beg? You used to be so good at this.” Stubborn bitch hasn’t begged since the first week. She thinks she can win this?

He twists her hand again. She arches her back and tries to scream.

“Don’t pretend you can’t fucking hear me, you can’t pretend after you fucking bit me.” He slaps her with his bitten hand, leaving a smear of his blood across her cheek, brighter than the caked-on stains of her own blood.

Her teeth clack in the air again.

Seething with fury, Riven pushes down on her chest until he feels the crack of bone slipping against bone. She convulses, limbs twitching, mouth open in a futile gasp.

Still the same empty fucking eyes, faking like she isn’t even processing. Maybe he should rip them out.

—

The dog has its teeth in her flesh. The bark bark bark runs through the meat like waves in jelly. Bark bark agony bark. Raw splitting burning meat cracking and turning to black under the sun. Lungs full of crumpled paper, crackling on every breath. Bark, bark, bark.

[queenofcats17]

Fav batim au’s?

Ooh!! I haven't talked about my favorite BATIM AU's in a while.

There's @disneyphantomlover's False Protagonists AU. That was one of the ones that really got me into BATIM I think.

There's @pipesflowforeverandever's Hymns of Struggle.

@a-rae-of-sunshine's Happily Ever After AU

@insane-control-room's The Big Picture.

I don't know if @randomwriteronline has any dedicated AU's, but I really like their BATIM works.

Reeling Off The Wheel by robboyblunder

Team Sillyvision by maulan-reverie

fishy-mom's Metal and Ink AU.

The Undertale crossover by esthyradler.

jekyll-doodles and @rosebloodcat also had a lot of AU's I really enjoyed.

I'm probably missing some, but those are some of my favorites that have been done by other people.

(I didn't ping everyone involved because I didn't know if they'd be okay with being pinged or not)

OH! ALSO! EDIT!:

@liliflower137 and @miscmangos-wonderland have also done some really cool AU stuff! Some of which I've been a part of and some of which I've just witnessed!

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

Hi ^^ now when i've found your list, and i feel safer than a while ago (thank you! :D ) and i have no idea what Aphelion could be, may i ask about:

Melshi and the others ...?

ahhhh, my dear Nen, that is part 2 of my zombie AU i wrote for Whumptober!

(also, side note, 'Aphelion' is an astronomical term for when two heavenly bodies that orbit each other are at their further points away from each other. take from that what you will)

here's a snippet of part 2 of Sometimes the Wolf:

Jyn lays half upright against the other wheel well, still panting. Her own charge seems to have passed out on her chest— from sheer exhaustion or from shock he can’t say, but it doesn’t matter. He can work around her. “Cass…” she hisses at him almost in warning as he drags himself toward her. He snaps open the thick plastic hatch of the tac box. “It’s too late—“ “Are you feeling feverish?” he asks, plucking the precious vial from the foam encasing it and shaking it. “No, but… Cassian it could just be the rain… or shock. Too much time has passed—“ “The virus works different on everyone. Thirty minutes is just a rule of thumb—“ “Cassian, if you do this and I turn anyway, it will be a waste. Wasted when it could be used for someone else.” He pulls the cap off the syringe with his teeth. Pierces the vial and begins to draw. “Draven will flay you alive!” she continues, growing a bit desperate, perhaps. He flicks air from the needle. “You think I give a shit about that?” He pulls up the sleeve of her jacket, smooths the rain and blood from the bite. It’s black and putrid and hot to the touch. He feels himself reel, but he takes a breath, looks up at her with the best grin he can muster. “Are we married or not?” Cassian waits for a relatively smooth stretch of road as Jyn lets out a harsh breath of frustration. “I can’t fucking believe your making jokes right—“ Jyn halts in her griping with a hiss of pain as the needle goes in. She always did hate needles. Cassian depresses the syringe, pulls the needle free, tosses it back into the box. He grips her face between his hands and brings their brows together. “You’re going to make it,” he swears to her. “You’re going to make it, or I’m going with you.”

[spumonibones]

Earlier this year, I attempted *twice* to do a XiaoVen fic for the maid day. Probably won't continue this one, couldn't figure out where to go with it or how to end it...

But honestly I just really wanted a fic that involved Itto and Xiao's friendship. Might post the silly concept a friend and I brainstormed for a XiaoVen but featuring buddy-cop style Xiao and Itto friendship.

Anyway. If nothing else, hope it makes someone laugh.

PAIRING: Xiao/Venti; mentions of Yan Fei/Kuki Shinobu

WARNINGS: Swearing; innuendo; implied spicy thoughts but no deets

SETTING: Modern AU, apparently in a world of which healthcode violations do not include an employee blowing on a client's food and getting their nasty germs all over your food who does that??

***

“Welcome, Masters!” A pair of cheerful voices greeted as the door’s bell jingled behind the pair. A mismatched pair, one towering over the other while dressed as though he were a professional biker. He was not. Arataki “the One and Oni,” Itto refused to admit it, but he hadn’t mastered the art of balancing on two wheels. His closest companions suggested three-wheeled versions, but the end result was just Itto whining about how, “uncool it looked.” Standing next to him, barely reaching the lowest point of the giant man’s sternum, was someone trying his best to slip out from behind him to exit. Xiao tended to dress in a more casual streetwear, to better blend into the background. An effort made impossible next to his much taller, much flashier friend. A friendship that Xiao had only learned he had with the other man about an hour ago, when Itto showed up at the library and dragged him off going on about a maid cafe.

“C’mon Compadre! I can’t go it alone!” Itto had babbled on, dragging Xiao along who was trying to keep his books from falling out of his bag along the way. The two were going down the street by the time he had it zipped shut, thrown over his shoulder and wondering how he was going to escape. He had never been to a maid cafe, never a desire to go to a maid cafe, didn’t even know going to a maid cafe was even an option. The place must have just opened, because something like that wasn’t commonplace. Or he assumed. Again, Xiao was still reeling from the fact such a thing even existed.

“One table for two cool guys.” Itto requested, a hand landing on Xiao’s shoulder and pulling him back around before the shorter man could escape. This was the problem with being within the vicinity of Itto. The man was a walking Deus Ex Machina. The trouble he got into should have been impossible, getting out of that trouble even more impossible, yet each time the improbable happened it was just another day for Itto. The only reason Xiao knew, was because one of his study partners was Yan Fei, of whom was dating Kuki, of whom was Itto’s… Handler? Xiao wasn’t clear on the nature of their connection, only that Kuki had wild stories that Yan Fei would share more out of shock than gossip.

“Right this way!” One of the maids instructed, leading the two from the host counter towards one of the tables. The space was relatively open, and there was maybe a handful of other customers. There was a small stage that was cleared, and Xiao assumed that perhaps live bands got invited, or there were karaoke nights. This was located within walkable distance to a college campus, and there were ample bands looking to book gigs. As the two were seated, the maid gave a graceful curtsy. “Your maid for today will be-”

“Kuki?” Itto asked hopefully, eyes practically sparkling as he stared at the maid.

“...Venti.” The host finished for him, arching one brow at his request. Adjusting her vest, she gave them a nod before walking away to return to her station. Discovering it wasn't going to be his friend (handler?), Itto flopped his upper body onto the table, hands dangling off the side and lightly smacking Xiao’s arm.

“So Miss Shinobu works here.” Xiao commented, nodding his head in sudden understanding. “If you just wanted to visit your friend, you didn’t need me to come with.” He pointed out, already setting his bag down to begin trying to resume where he left off. If he wasn’t allowed to study in the library, he was going to study here at least.

“That’s not it!” Itto hissed, lifting up his head with a red imprint on it from how hard he smashed his forehead into the table. “I’m worried about creeps, Little Dude! Kuki’s hot! And smart! And… Uh. Did I say hot already?” His whispers faltered, trying to keep track of his words while relaying his thoughts.

“You did.” Xiao answered.

“Yeah! As her boss, I gotta protect her! Yan Fei had class, but I saw you and was like, ‘No way! That guy knows Kuki’s babe!’ And I figured you’d want to protect her, too! Smart, eh?” Itto asked, grinning broadly. Pushing himself back to sitting normally, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Sometimes I scare myself with my genius, hehe.”

Opening his book, Xiao didn’t bother to respond to that. There were more important things than stepping on someone’s ego. Such as not failing. An effort quickly squashed when Itto pulled it away, his frown somehow louder than his voice. “Little Dude, what. Are. You. Doing?!” He asked in a hiss. “We can’t keep an eye out for Kuki like this!”

Letting out a sigh, Xiao leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed. “If you’re so worried about her, why not apply to work here?” He asked.

“What? No way! I’m a dude! They don’t let dudes work here!” Itto scowled, eyes briefly distracted by the book in his hand. “Why does this have so many numbers? I thought you read books?” The man mumbled, red eyes swirling with confusion. Somehow, Xiao wasn’t shocked to learn Itto wasn’t familiar with statistics.

“I apologize for the wait, Masters and/or Princesses!” A chipper voice greeted, and Xiao had never been so relieved to hear someone so happy. A customer service voice was preferable to dealing with Itto’s… Itto-ing. Turning to face their maid, Xiao was somewhat taken aback. To work in a maid cafe, there had to be some forms of prerequisites. Personality-wise, Xiao went in assuming it was no different than being a server at a restaurant. Pleasant, friendly, or at least skilled in pretending to be. Being a niche sort of establishment, the uniform was probably in line with the theme and typically places of that nature hired attractive people. Shallow as it was, that was the reality.

Attractive as in sexy or pretty or handsome. Something. Not outright cute. Their maid wore the same uniform as the others, except this one had fun accessories all over. Feathers here, little windwheels there. The frilly headpiece even had a white cecilia flower tucked in on the left side, two long pale green leaves sticking out. The black and blue braids that framed the maid’s face had what looked like tiny, turquoise butterfly attached to the ties keeping the plaits from coming undone. As he stared at the maid, gold eyes blinking in surprise with all his words lost, Xiao simply froze.

“Is this your first time coming home? I’ll be happy to help you both get comfortable, but first, may I have your preferred form of address?” The maid asked. On the name tag it read: Venti. Underneath read script: He/Him.

“First time…? Listen,” Itto’s eyes looked from Venti’s face down to the name tag, and then back up at the other. “Listen you weirdly sized coffee,” He continued, and at this the maid sucked in his lips while his eyes lit up with unrestrained delight, “I’ve been home a ton of times! Granny Oni told me I can come home however much I want, and I know my way home from here!”

“I think that’s one of the features.” Xiao offered, recovering his senses solely thanks to Itto’s misunderstanding.

“Helping me go home?” Itto asked, looking away from Venti to now look at Xiao with confusion. From the corner of his eyes, Xiao caught the maid trying to hide his laughter as coughs behind his hand.

“No, that’s not…” Letting out a long sigh, Xiao wondered if the Wii music in Itto’s head was ever quiet enough for the man to hear what else was happening around him.

“I’ll break character for him.” Venti assured Xiao with a wink, of which Xiao ignored the heat that hit his ears as a result. The maid waved his hand in front of Itto, and once he had the tall man’s attention gave a smile. “This is a maid cafe, and part of creating the atmosphere is both us, the ‘maids,’ and you, are pretending. It’s a fun escapism style environment. While in-character, we pretend the cafe is actually your home, and you are either the master or the princess of it. So when I ask,” Venti paused, shifting gears from Normal Person right into his Maid Persona, “Is this your first time coming home? I’ll be happy to help you both get comfortable, but first, may I have your preferred form of address?” And then right back to being a regular person sans the maid outfit, “You tell me if you prefer ‘master’ or ‘princess.’ I have different routines I do that vary based on the personalities of my guests, and you just try to have fun and enjoy. Does that help?”

“I can… Be…” Itto’s eyes widened, hands reaching out and taking Venti’s smaller ones into them. “I can be a princess here?!” He asked, like a little kid that was just told Santa was real and bringing him an actual unicorn.

“Absolutely!” Venti answered with a smile. “I’m glad you’re getting it!” He continued. With that settled, he slid his hands out of Itto’s and clasped them together before turning to Xiao. “And might I have your preferred form of address?”

“It doesn’t really matter…” Xiao muttered, wanting to slide down his seat and hide under the table. Why was their maid cute in and out of character? Venti was definitely one of those extroverts that probably ran around adopting every introvert they met, and Xiao was trying very, very hard to pretend he didn’t want to be included in that.

“Oh?” Venti gave a slight tilt of his head, expression thoughtful. “Ehe, Master it is then!” He decided, smile only getting wider as Xiao’s blush spread from his ears onto his cheeks. “And what a cute Master I have!” Venti added, as if there was anything to be gained by adding fuel to that fire.

“What about me!?” Itto asked, once more trying to lean across the table to get into Venti’s eyesight.

“I’ve never seen a prettier princess!” The compliments left Venti’s lips so smoothly, leaving no room for doubt about the maid’s honesty.

“Hell yeah!” Itto cheered, sliding back into his seat all grins and bursts of sudden cackles. “So, is your nickname supposed to be ironic? Aren’t ventis supposed to be, I don’t know… Tall?” He asked, lifting one muscular arm high enough that it went above the maid’s head even as Itto sat, before lowering to just above the table. “You’re short like Little Dude.”

“Venti is my name, Princess, but you may call me something else if you prefer?” Venti offered, easily handling Itto in a way most people struggled with. Itto wasn’t a bad person, or even as foolish as he acted. The man had a bad habit of acting or speaking without thinking, and just required a certain level of patience. That was what Yan Fei had told him, and thus far Xiao was finding her words to be very true. Although he suspected that Itto was one of those people who didn’t have the education he should entirely because no one took the time to work with him. Everyone learned differently, and it was ceaselessly frustrating how often anyone who didn’t fit a box ended up trailing behind as a result.

“Oh man! You were named after a coffee?!” Itto gasped, hand over his mouth in shock. “You’re perfect for working here!” If Venti wanted, he could have corrected Itto that no, a ‘venti’ was not a type of coffee. Instead the maid maintained that pleasant smile, a soft laugh leaving him at the comment.

“You seem very fixated on coffee, my Princess! Would having a cup please you?” Venti asked.

“YES.” Itto nodded, the face of a man that never had a coffee once in his life and this afternoon did not bode well for anyone else once he got his hands on a cup. “Extra, extra, extra milk, though! Granny Oni says big boys like me need lots of calcium!”

“Happily! I’ll bring an additional glass so you can add as you go.” Venti said, those pretty eyes of blues and greens on Xiao. Right. Xiao was physically there, his escape having been cut off by Itto earlier. This wasn’t just some comedy he happened to stumble upon. Xiao was part of this act, no matter how badly he wished he was just an audience member. “And how might I please Master?” The way the maid said it was so casual and friendly, he might as well have been asking if the weather was pleasant. Perhaps ambiguously suggestive language like that was the culprit behind why Itto was so worried about creeps harassing Kuki.

These were not the thoughts Xiao was having. He would have them much later, once his panic subsided and his face no longer felt like it was on fire. “...M-Menu?” He managed to stammer out, flustered and more embarrassed at how he was taking what was said than the words themselves. Venti was just doing his job. There was no reason to interpret anything said as words with meaning outside of immediate face-value.

“To your left, Master.” Venti informed him, a slight laugh in his voice as he motioned the menus that had been on the table the entire time. “I can also make suggestions if you’re having trouble deciding. I’m pretty good at knowing what my Master,” The maid paused, winking at Itto so he didn’t feel excluded, “and Princess like!”

He isn’t flirting Xiao, keep it together. He isn’t t flirting. Or if he are, it’s because studies show that job roles that receive gratuities receive higher tips when performed by attractive people who flirt, and on went his internal analysis of what might have been going on. “I’ll… I’ll look, thank you.” Xiao muttered, using the menu as a tool to hide behind.

“Please do!” Venti said happily. “Do take your time! Princess, I’ll be right back with your drink and a surprise!” He added, and with a spin left the table to do his job.

“This. Place. Is. Awesome!” Itto cheered. “Hey, do you think Sprite only does maid stuff at fake home? I’ll bet if I can get…” He paused, trying to remember something only to shrug, “Them to clean Granny’s house! She’d be so fucking happy getting the casa back in order!” As he was still recovering from the figurative heart-attack that Venti gave him, Xiao could only shrug as he browsed the options. “Wait. No. No fucking way! Kuki fucking works here! I could ask her if she’ll maid it up at my place!”

Releasing the last bit of shakiness from his chest through an exhale, Xiao finally looked up from his menu at the other. “Aren’t we here to protect her?” He asked.

“...Oh. Shit. You right.” Itto immediately deflated. “Got so caught up in being a princess, I totally forgot. You know, it’s super weird. I haven’t seen her at all.” He added, straightening up and trying to peer around the restaurant for any signs of familiar green hair.

“Is she on shift right now?” Xiao asked absently, settling on teas. But which one…?

“I don’t know. People go to work all the time, right? So she’ll always be here.” Itto replied, those red eyes still scanning around.

“...Except for when she’s off?” Xiao supplied, lowering his menu to scrutinize Itto over its pink, floral top. “You do know she isn’t going to be here just because you’re here… Right?”

“Oh. Aha. Ahaha. Yeah. You’re right. Hah, I totally forgot to think of that! Oops, ehe… I’ll just, uh, text her real quick-like…” Itto’s fumbling words trailed, and he was pulling out his phone to try contacting his friend. Or handler. Maybe it was both? All the while, Xiao stared at him in disbelief. This man, this borderline stranger… Dragged him to this fetish fantasy cafe and away from his studies… To keep an eye on someone that wasn’t even working that day? There was no anger at the situation or the cause of it, only a sense of awe in how masterfully bad this whole evening suddenly went. With a shake of his head, Xiao resumed reviewing the menu. As he read all the details and information, he was getting a better understanding of how it all worked. If he couldn’t study, and they weren’t going to succeed at their original goal then Xiao was going to find a way to make the most of it.

Get something to eat and drink, and then head back to the library. To study. Not to hide from a cute maid that talked about ‘pleasing my master,’ as if that was a normal, natural thing to say. Even with Venti gone, the red on Xiao’s ears remained from the memory alone.

“And here’s my Princess’ coffee with extra, extra, extra milk!” Venti announced, carrying a wooden tray with mint designs on it holding one coffee mug and one fancy glass of milk with whipped cream on top. “Ta-daa!” The maid cheered, placing both drinks in front of Itto’s whose face was paling and paying no mind. “Ohhh, what’s this? A letter for-”

“I gotta go.” Itto whispered, and started to stand up. At that, the friendly smile started to fall from Venti’s face, a flash of worry on his features. “Thanks, sorry, allergic to beans!” The large man continued, trying to shuffle his way out of the seats.

“Princess, is everything all right?” Venti asked, stepping back to allow Itto to go past while one hand tried to decide if it wanted to grab him to keep him there or simply fall limp to the side. “The milk should be safe-”

“Later!” Itto hollered, dashing out of the cafe without once looking back. The jingle of the door’s bell ended softly, despite how roughly the door itself had been treated by Itto. There were other heads in the cafe that had watched his escape, before trailing to look over at Venti and Xiao as if to understand any better than those two what just transpired. There was a long pause, before everything resumed as normal. Except Venti, who was standing there with slumped shoulders and visible disappointment. Regardless of reason, the fact remained that Itto had just ordered and ditched without even paying. To add insult to injury, as he was looking over the menu Xiao caught that there was an entrance fee. Guess I’m footing the bill, he thought with a sigh. Regardless, he reached over to have the coffee and milk on his side of the table. At least now he could study, and statistics would do wonders in distracting him from the more inappropriate thoughts emerging from an otherwise cobweb-ridden recess of his mind.

This was not how Xiao planned on learning something new about himself, but there was nothing for it at this point except to ignore it until he had privacy.

“Right! You’re still here, sorry!” Venti came back to life, tearing his eyes away from the shadow of Itto’s retreating form to focus once more on Xiao. “I can take that away, please order what you want!” There was a lot of reassurance in his voice, almost as if he was trying to soothe Xiao into staying.

“I don’t mind.” Xiao kept his voice even, raising the glass to his lips. Paused, noticing the foam on it had some kind of design, and pulled it away from his mouth. A bit distorted from having been disturbed by movement and touch, there was a lopsided, very unfortunate face of… Maybe a cow? A bull? “Coffee art?” He mused aloud.

“Y-Yes, that’s right Master!” Venti was getting back into maid mode, and there was a reassuring humanity in the way his work mask slipped, even for that brief moment. Putting the tray aside, Venti pressed his fingertips together and wore the maid’s smile as if one of his customers hadn’t just dined and ditched. Actually, not so much dining as just… Ditching. “As my Princess had been gone so long, being a most dutiful maid I thought adding a fun image to my Princess’ coffee would be a nice surprise! But, uhm, again, Master doesn’t have to drink that, if you had your eye on something else?”

“It’s fine. Really.” Xiao assured, and took a sip. Kept his expression impassive, all while he tried to make sense if the taste was closer to watered down coffee or milk seasoned with coffee grounds. Not much of an indicator of the cafe’s skills, given this was exactly what Itto had ordered. Simply an example of how well Venti relayed the client’s request. As he continued to sip on the unfortunate concoction, he eyed what appeared to be a piece of paper left on the tray. Lightly tapped his index finger on the mug. I would be rude to just leave, especially after what Itto did. Venti is just doing his job, and what he did probably didn’t reflect well on him. Coming to a decision to continue playing along, Xiao set his mug down to motion towards the piece of paper. “Before… Prin… Princess left,” Felt the heat on his cheeks again, feeling silly despite knowing this was how the cafe worked. Some of the embarrassment eased when Venti perked up, the smile more genuine in its curve. “You were trying to say something about a letter?”

“...Yes, I was.” Venti’s words were slow and drawn out, visage becoming somewhat sheepish. Collecting the letter, they slid it into their apron before pulling out a different one. “Admittedly, Master I was a bit worried for you… The way you and Princess were acting, you didn’t seem ready to be home yet.” The careful verbiage, and the fact that Venti brought out two letters… The gears shifted in Xiao’s mind, and he immediately understood. Suddenly felt better about the cafe as a whole. There was a built-in method for maids to help any clients out of potentially bad situations. That first letter was apparently set up to help Xiao escape, and the fact Venti caught onto all of his more subtle cues all the more reassuring. Those flirtations were a distraction to subvert suspicion, and to give the maid a chance to really gauge someone.

“Here I thought you were just very forward.” Xiao confessed, a light, almost forced laugh leaving him. Just in case Venti thought he was complaining, and not expressing his amusement.

“If my Master wishes it, I can be.” Venti teased with another wink, but this time Xiao let himself laugh with it and wrangle the feelings it created down. Deep down. So far down he hoped to forget they were even there. Xiao could do this. Could pretend to flirt with a cute maid, and that all of this was just silly make-believe that wasn’t going to return with a vengeance when he fell asleep later. “This is so exciting!” Venti’s voice was slightly higher, almost with a musical intonation. Xiao was starting to recognize that as his ‘in-character,’ voice. The way he would speak as a maid, not as a person. “The letter reads, ‘Dear Master and Princess,’” Pausing, the maid leaned over slightly, “Please pardon the letter’s inability to foresee the future. We maids understand that princesses are wont to flee leaving only a single slipper behind, but I suppose ours didn’t get the memo, hmm?”

Pointing at the seat, an impish glint in those blues and greens, Venti’s finger directed Xiao’s attention to where Itto had been sitting. Leaning his body to the side so he could see under the table, he saw on Itto’s seat a comb had been forgotten. Rolling his eyes while trying to not smile in amusement, he straightened himself to sitting upright once more. Clearing his throat, Venti resumed reading. “‘Your maids are so pleased to have you home once more, the staff has been moved to offer you a special treat. We hope this delicacy eases your weary body from your long travels.’ Aaaand here inside, how fortuitous! Dessert, just for Master!” A coupon that until he finished reading, Venti held with his fingers while keeping the letter aloft. Now that he got to the end, with a flourish presented the coupon for a first visit free dessert.

Accepting the coupon, Xiao’s eyes immediately went to the fine print covering the terms and conditions. Straight forward verbiage, the only exclusions being items of higher price points such as entire cakes. Intending it wholly as a joke, Xiao commented, “Does this include maids feeding it to us?”

“Indeed!” Venti confirmed without missing a beat, clapping his hands together with the letter pressed between with perfect folds. Not receiving the decline he expected, the flush on Xiao’s face only darkened. “My Master spoils me, letting me take care of him!”

“Wait, no, I, that was, I was just…” Xiao stammered, tripping over words as he tried to say too many things all at once. How was that allowed?

“What sweet treat entices my Master? I’ll tell the chefs right away.” Venti promised, tone almost playful. In his seat, Xiao was just grateful that the maid had the courtesy to not tease him further with empty promises of, ‘would my Master like me as a treat?’ Thank the celestial bodies for small miracles that Xiao didn’t have to endure that.

He was pretty sure his heart would stop.

“Sh-shouldn’t I eat lunch first?” Xiao finally managed, wading through too many words that said a lot that needed to stay in his thoughts.

“You haven’t?” Venti inquired, blinking at him in surprise. “All this traveling on an empty stomach, tsk tsk.” Hands unclasped to rest on his hip. “I know just the thing! Wait here!” Without giving their ‘master’ any opportunity to get a word in edgewise, Venti was off like the wind to get Xiao something to eat. The sudden silence was comforting but cold. Letting out a breath, he could at length relax his shoulders. That maid sure had a talent for winding him up, and not in a hype kind of way. Swallowing hard, Xiao blanched at the reminder on his tongue of the too-much milk, too-little coffee. An unpleasant reminder that Itto’s rude actions were the reason that Xiao was now trapped here, trying to contain his suffering at the hands of someone whose job was to apparently flirt with people.

Now that he was distraction-free, for at least the time being, Xiao grunted as he pulled his statistics book back out. Let his focus shift onto what was important. Several classmates complained that statistics were complex, but Xiao found a comfort in them. Having grown up around family that wrote or reviewed contracts for a living, the mechanical nature of textbooks were almost comforting. Or perhaps that was because when he was adopted, his new father only had textbooks on hand to read as bedtime stories. As the calm fell over him, Xiao forgot where he was. Made notes, and tested formulas as needed to get a feel for their use. Absently took sips of his drink, paying the flavor no mind.

Was so completely engrossed in his notes, a sudden, sweet voice in his ear was enough to cause him to jerk away, shoulders rising in tension as he looked around wildly for the source. Leaning in closely was Venti, blinking at him curiously. When neither said anything, Venti waited a beat before deciding to be the one to speak. “Sorry.” The maid offered him an apologetic smile, and then placed his finger on one of the problems Xiao had been working on. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Just thought you’d like to know you skipped this piece, so you never converted the standard deviation for the next bit.”

Gold eyes looked at where Venti was pointing, and realized that he had skipped that line entirely. Overall that was a non-issue, as Xiao always reviewed what he did to check for simple errors. Even so, it was nice to have it caught early on instead of needing to redo all of the work. “Thank you.” Adjusting himself to be comfortable again, Xiao watched Venti with new interest. Being close to the campus, it would make sense that fellow students would get nearby work. Unable to claim to have seen everyone that attended, Xiao also felt a certain confidence he would have noticed someone who looked like Venti by now. “I didn’t know maids help with… Wait.” Brows furrowing, Xiao checked around the table. Where had the bad coffee-milk gone? Or the glass with the very sad, very melted whipped cream gone? Instead there was a glass, half-drank, with a black tea contained. “You changed the drinks?”

“You made faces the second I walked away. I would be a terrible maid if I let my Master keep drinking something he disliked. You’re here to relax.” Venti emphasized the last word, and with a roll of their eyes gave a slight jerk of their head towards the statistics book.

“I’m here because my classmate’s girlfriend has weird friends.” Xiao grumbled, body tensing all over again when he realized what had just slipped out. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”

“That was honest of you.” Venti laughed. “I suspected you weren’t the sort to be here. Initially I was worried you were coerced here, but no. You’re just too polite. Don’t worry, I just wanted you to catch that before it became a hassle.” He spoke in a more soothing voice, and if they could just… Chat like this, it would have been so much nicer. “Nothing for it.” Venti sighed, resting his cheek on one hand, while the other rested across the corset of the costume. “I guess Master doesn’t want to pay any attention to me, after all…”

Ah. They were back to that now. Pulled back into the reality of their interactions, Xiao’s shoulders slumped. This was what it was. “What… Exactly sort of character am I supposed to be playing here?” He asked, feeling at a loss.

“Whatever you want.” Venti’s answer was sufficiently simple and unhelpful, but his smile was kind which eased Xiao. “For so long as you’re here, you are my master, I am your maid, and this is your home. No one here will judge you, so long as your actions stay within the guidelines of this home.”

Was that the real appeal of places like this? The freedom to explore a different side, to experiment with what sort of person someone wanted to be?

“Don’t think too hard on it!” Venti’s laughter cut into Xiao’s contemplation. “I think it’s very sweet of you to stay after what my Princess pulled, but you don’t need to out of obligation. But if you’re determined to stick around, know I’m going to do everything I can as your maid to try and convince you to keep coming back for more.” Words so sweet and generous, yet mildly flirtatious in the end.

“...I’m a bit curious to see what that looks like.” As the admission left his mouth, Xiao’s ears turned red once more. How many relationships had he missed because he couldn’t bring himself to ask? To even get the words out, always locking up and shying away? If this was a safe space to explore, he hoped maybe here he could start learning.

“You’ll see!” Another of Venti’s winks were sent Xiao’s way, and he swiftly retreated. Again. Always flitting about, movements fluid yet always at risk of changing. Venti reminded Xiao of the wind, of the way his heart hammered in his chest every time he climbed to the top of a tree. There was hardly any wait as Venti returned with a plate he carried with a proud smile. With a gentle spin, Venti slid the plate to be in front of Xiao but without disturbing the sheets of paper or textbook. On the plate was omurice, folded neatly with garnishes of white petals all around it. Decorated with ketchup on top was the fattest, most round bird that Xiao had seen. At first he thought it was just a circle with eyes, but the closer he looked he realized the odd designs at its side were just very tiny, disproportionately small wings.

Wordlessly, Xiao took his phone out and snapped a picture of the world’s most circular avian. From the corner of his eye, he noted the way Venti smiled seeing his reaction and managed to not physically melt on top of the table. No one was allowed to be this cute, yet Venti dared to. In public, at that. Satisfied with his photo, Xiao returned the phone to his pocket before he could cave and date ask for one with the maid. The menu mentioned that photo ops were an upcharge, and as much of a temptation as it was this was already unplanned spending enough. As an adult, Xiao couldn’t just cave to base desires that consisted solely of, maid very cute on repeat.

This was as good time as any for him to take a break, so he bookmarked the page he was on for his textbook. Collected his notes, straightened them, and set them aside to have the space to eat without worrying over his work. “Perfect!” Venti’s pleased voice cut in, and suddenly there was a spoon with omurice being offered in front of Xiao’s face. Gold eyes looked to the bite presented to him, to the utensil it was on, to the gloved hand holding it, up the arm that he noticed a blue tattoo peeking from beneath a sleeve on, to the happy face of ‘his maid.’ “Say, ‘ah,’ Master!” Venti said, casual as could be as he offered to feed Xiao.

Xiao’s brain short-circuited, fingers clutching at the sides of his chair while a flurry of different potential reactions raced through. “Dessert?” Was the sole victor, but the rest of the sentence that was supposed to have joined it was lost in the race to what left the man’s mouth.

“You asked to have lunch first.” Venti reminded him with a laugh. “Are you a messy eater? Fret not Master, your maid is here to assist!” They continued, amusement in their eyes and words. A second hand took on a cupped shape to rest beneath Xiao’s chin, ready to catch any food debris with gloved fingers. At this rate, Xiao was confident he wasn’t going to survive this experience. At least his last will and testament had already been written out, that wasn’t something his father would need to worry about. “Or are you worried it’s too hot?” Venti mused, slowly pulling the spoon from Xiao’s mouth and closer to his own. Lips pursed and loosened, allowing enough space to gently blow on the bite. Not capable of handling any more, Xiao grabbed Venti’s wrist and pulled the spoon into his mouth in hopes to catch it before the maid could fully blow on it.

The abrupt grab gave Venti pause, maid gauging if the reaction had been in anger or embarrassment or something else entirely. “Too much?” He asked, gaze now more curious. As if he were assessing something, and Xiao didn't want to think about what.

“Mmm.” Xiao offered his own ambiguous reply, cheeks burning and hoping the other mistook it to mean the food was too hot. Of which it wasn’t. The omurice was hot enough to be fresh, but not to the extent it burned Xiao’s mouth. Barely even chewed it before he swallowed, pulling back and away from the spoon.

“Too much.” Venti decided with a nod, and used the spoon to scoop up more. The logic side of Xiao pointed at that he needed to tell the maid that no, he didn’t need to be fed. This wasn’t what was agreed upon. Furthermore, the two didn’t even need to do what was agreed upon. Xiao was an adult, he could feed himself just fine. Didn’t need the lovely view of Venti’s collarbone when he was leaning slightly to spoon feed his ‘master.’ But that was not the side that was winning anymore. The simple part of his brain stuck on, ‘maid cute,’ was taking control and it most definitely wanted to keep that view, to keep Venti’s attention on them, and to be spoon-fed. Maybe told how good he was being.

Maybe push his luck, ask if Venti wanted to sit in his lap while the maid fed him. Have the other hand run fingers through Xiao’s hair, whispering soft and gentle with his voice. The natural one, not the more musical one he used when in-character.

“It’s… Not too much.” Xiao’s voice was low, and he wasn’t confident that he could even be heard. But he was, a knowing smile slipping onto Venti’s face briefly before getting covered up with a more professional one. Venti even did a cute little song before they blew on the bite, something about, ‘Blessings of Barsibato!’ Of which sounded suspiciously like an inside joke. The song was gentle, a voice perfect for lullabies. As this went on, Xiao’s insecurity beckoned him to make sure no one else staring, there were no judging eyes. Each time he did, he felt himself unraveling, piece by piece. No one was even batting an eye, or even really noticing. Not even when he finished, and Venti used a towel to wipe an even more flustered Xiao’s mouth.

“How was it?” Venti asked, folding the napkin and setting it on the empty plate.

“It was… Good.” Xiao doubted the blush was going away any time soon. An approving hum left the maid, and he began to collect everything onto the plate. As much as he enjoyed that, perhaps too much, there were more things that bothered Xiao about the experience. Namely, why Venti was an unfamiliar face that had an odd familiarity with the college’s textbooks. Did he simply learn it to help clients? Then why not become a tutor instead of a glorified waiter? “I know you might not answer for privacy reasons, but… Do you go to the college nearby?”

“Aha, is that what’s been bothering you?” Venti chuckled, everything packed onto the plate. “I graduated two years ago. Actually, I'm pretty surprised they’re using the same book, though. Those curricula sure do love to print a million editions to squeeze every mora out of you.” He ended with a sigh, eyes far off and for a moment, even exhausted.

“You’re already graduated?” Xiao’s eyes widened, voice incredulous. “But you look-”

“So old?” Venti ended for him, one amused brow rising up. “I take it you’re also as young as you look?” He continued, smile quirking into a wide grin when Xiao looked away. Guilty as charged, his appearance was also misleading in how old he actually was. Being short didn’t help either, as strangers often mistook Xiao for being a teenager instead of in his twenties. “Thought so.”

“Okay… So, this is your… Job?” Xiao was hesitant in asking. There was a stigma around this line of work, and he hoped his inquiry didn’t come off as insulting or belittling.

“Not mine. There are some maids who use this as their primary. I only work two evenings a week for fun money. The good cider is expensive.” Venti slid index and middle finger against his thumb, making a visual cue for money. “Can’t afford weekend benders otherwise.”

There was a lot to gather from that. Instead, Xiao tried to focus on the more neutral aspects. Until that moment, Xiao had no reason to suspect the maid in front of him was an alcoholic. Perhaps Venti was exaggerating. Just in case, he side-stepped that particular line. “What’s your primary job?”

“Biblically accurate angel.” Venti’s response was smooth, and their smile ambiguous.

“Right.” Xiao didn’t know what else to say, simply nodded. Apparently while on the clock, Venti was adamant about not sharing too many personal details. Xiao could only assume to avoid potential stalkers. It unsettled him, realizing that was a reality all of the maids had to face. Still, he learned more than he expected to about the other. Honestly, he just assumed the maid would shut the conversation down without revealing anything. “Do they treat you well here?” Xiao tried a line of inquiry that shifted from probing, as if he were more trying to get a feel for the cafe’s operations.

“Better than I treat them!” Venti replied, grinning widely and went back to using both hands to hold the plate. “The owner is some rich guy named Diluc. He only opened it up because he lost a bet, but he’s tons of fun to mess with as a result. I highly recommend it.” Venti went on, eyes crinkling in mischievous delight.

“...Are you working here to mess with people?” Xiao blurted out, unable to contain his suspicion.

“Maybe.” Venti said in a conniving tone, grin playful before a laugh left him. “No, I actually started out to help a friend. I was supposed to only be doing live music, but then another maid convinced me to perform in one of the uniforms, and it was just so breezy…” He trailed, swaying his hips lightly to make the skirt of the maid uniform, wide and full from its petticoat, swing back and forth. Intentionally or unintentionally flashing Xiao bare thigh, the skin briefly peaking through lace and a legging clutching onto that inviting flesh for dear life. For a second, Xiao envied that stocking. Just for a second, until logical thinking kicked in finally to remind him that he was jealous of fabric. Ceasing the motion, Venti shrugged. “Now here I am, fighting math for my Master’s attention. Am I getting less adorable in my old age?” They gave an exaggerated sigh, leaning more onto one leg to add into the theatrics.

“...You… Want me to throw you on a desk and do you all night?” There were thoughts that Xiao had been, until that moment, very careful in filtering before he opened his mouth. Before he opened his big, embarrassing, terrible mouth that said things he hadn’t intended to say, didn’t want to say, and realized too late that he did, in fact, just say. All at once, he felt anger at Itto. At the man who ditched him, and made it so that Xiao couldn’t run away in horror at what he said and leave Itto to deal with the fallout and bill. Venti also must not have expected Xiao’s mouth to string those words together, the maid faltering as confusion overtook their visage. All at once it clicked, and this time it was the maid’s turn to blush and stutter.

“Ehe, w-well… I need to get these to the kitchen. I’ll be back with a refill for you.” Venti murmured, shyly retreating away. The second he was gone, Xiao buried his face in his hands and groaned. This was the humiliating thing that was going to haunt him for years to come. This exact scene would replay when he was trying to fall asleep at 2am, and keep him awake with self-loathing and shame. Any second now, Diluc would appear at his table, and demand that Xiao leave and never come within a hundred feet of the cafe. That any chance Xiao once deluded himself into believing he had was destroyed, all good will lost with not even a good flirtatious joke. Just a really lame, horny-sounding one.

Worst of all, he hadn't initially intended it to be. Xiao just blurted out how he did his work, and the thought-mouth filter was supposed to catch it given the ways it could be taken. Now he was going to get put into the pile of creeps that were forbidden to return. If Itto tried to drag him back there, he'd have to explain that to Itto. Who would tell Kuki. Who would tell Yan Fei… And did it end with her, or would there be more? A circulation of whispers that Xiao was one of the people to look out for, and all because he was so damn foolish.

No, he would just have to deal with this fallout. Counting his breaths, holding and slowly releasing each one, Xiao tried to calm down. Say stupid things, earn stupid prizes. The only way forward was to try and do better, and accept responsibility for his actions. Despite thinking that, his eyes did feel a bit damp. Did his best to not flinch hearing footsteps approach, and to his surprise saw that it was only Venti with a pot of tea that he was pouring into Xiao's cup.

“That isn't the worst thing I've heard.” Venti informed Xiao gently, using the sort of tone a person would use when trying to lure a scared cat out of its hiding place.

“I'm sorry.” It was all Xiao could bring himself to say. Making the excuse of, I didn't mean to, just would come across as trying to cover. Venti laughed lightly at the apology, pulling the tea pot away once the glass was full.

“You don't really need to apologize. I'm pretty sure I'm the one who took it the wrong way.” Venti was back to good humor, having used the time away to recollect himself. That statement was as true as it wasn't, and Xiao couldn't find the words to explain that. Just sunk deeper into his seat, averting his gaze and wondering if at this point he should just leave. Surely by now this made up for Itto's behavior? Xiao could just pay and leave. Probably never see Venti again.

But then the memory of Venti's reaction at Itto's abrupt departure returned. That dejected face, the way the maid just looked so disappointed. Fuck, I'm weak, Xiao thought.

“So! Does Master know what he would like for dessert?” Venti asked, all pleasantries and smiles on full display. It was peculiar that for the first time, the maid didn't include ‘my’ before ‘Master’ this time. Had Xiao… Flustered him that much?

“I was just going to trust your judgment.” Xiao tried to raise his voice, not wanting to keep muttering and murmuring this entire interaction. Make some piece of Venti's job easier amidst all the less savory parts.

“Then I know just the thing!” With a wink and a flourish, Venti bounded off all over again. Now that he was paying more attention to his surroundings, Xiao noticed all the maids struck a similar pose when leaving, though a few made heart shapes with their hands as they retreated. Nodding slowly, that matched the voice Venti was using while in-character. The wait was short, Xiao trying to straighten himself again as Venti returned. “For our adorable Master, almond tofu!”

Xiao's mouth dropped, and he quickly fixed it. What sixth sense did this person have to just… Know that he wouldn't just like this dish, but love it?

***

“I’ll waive your entrance and stay fees if you walk me home.” Venti teased, another laugh leaving him when Xiao’s flush returned.

“...A-All right…” Xiao mumbled, not sure what else to say. This was too good to be true, right?

“Ehe, aww, no I was kidding! I thought you’d be too shy to agree!” Venti’s laughter continued. “No, you’re cute, but not ‘show client where I live,’ cute.” He stated, firm but gentle with his words. There was equal parts relief and disappointment inside of Xiao, but his blush obscured both for the most part.

“Of course. Safety first.” Xiao agreed with a nod.

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Since this universe utilises all characters from every iteration of the RWS/T&F, including AEG, what about the story of the Logging Locos and Misty Island? As we all know, the Logging Locos are widely hated. So what's their story and what changed about them?

oohhh alrighty!! Ive actually got them lying about here:

Starting off with bash and dash are both girls their real names are baileya and dahlia. Baileya is quite timid also the calm one and the peacemaker of the gang she’s also the one who’s gets homesick easily and the most anxious will start crying. She’s a herbalist florist gardener every plant/flower related thing knowing ever single scientific plant name and remedy after listening to the indigenous people’s of the misty valley (that’s where shining time is located here in my au) she has a soft spot for more spooky plants like larkspur and belladonnas and can “speak” with plants.

where as Dahlia has freckles and is the more outgoing energetic and open twin especially when interacting with animals she’s the one who gotta bring home animals as pets. you bet that everyone freaked out when she brought to the sheds a opossum when they visited.

So far she has a pet frog called mister hoppadiah “hopper” croakingtion that lives in her cab and a raccoon 🦝 named bubbles along with a group of wolves that she claims raised her and opossums. (James had such a fright when her pet frog 🐸 fell on his face) just like her sister she can “speak” with wildlife critters.

Ferdinand is the classic gentle giant and prefers the simple approach to life. Despite baileya’s shyness all three of them have a fair share of mischief and are known for pulling each others and others wheels.

Maybe that’s why the girls got a long distance relationship with the china clay twins…(Boco and also everyone else nearly busted his radiator when he hear about them but at the same time, they appear to reel one another in so..)

They use to be part of the early days of the island being part of the W&S from early indigenous American immigrants in the 1880s before becoming their own company for the isle of Glendale/glyndale or Brendan (which is now nicknamed misty island though it’s made up of many tiny islands) as a majority settled there (alongside some Shay ocs) something something oil and an new species of trees found there led to corporate greed and tycoons which nearly stripped the land bare before and logged it that they abandoned them and taking their friends away.

50 years later, it’s Toby and diesel who find them, the misty islanders (mainly of indigenous south and North American descent they mainly celebrated Hanukkah and epiphany, though they had others who have been stranded and were accepted into the community/village or hav left but took their friends away rubbing more salt in the wounds) and they’re all shook by how much as changed especially with diesel calling him a strange box on wheels though have since accepted the changes.

[themculibrary]

Firefighter AU Masterlist

9-1-1 (ao3) - amoree999 steve/bucky N/R, 7k

Summary: Sirens

“Firefighter fell through a two story burning building, unconscious possible concussion and internal bleeding” Paramedic Chi tells the attending nurses who flock the gurney being wheeled into the ER.

“What do We got?” Steve asks jumping into action, “Firefighter hurt on the job fell through a two story burning building Medics said possible concussion and internal bleeding” Danvers says, “Danvers run a line of blood, plasma, vitamin K and platelets” Rogers says, “Jones help me with his uniform” Steve says cutting the turn outs off the firefighter and taking his helmet along with the rest of his gear off. Rogers listens to his heart, lungs, and checks his airways before pressing around on his stomach looking for the source of his internal bleed. “Abdominal bleed left side” He says, “Jacques! Page the attending tell ‘em to open an OR now!” He checks the fireman’s pupillary response, “Both left and right pupils responding normal, CAT scan after he comes out of surgery. Airways are clear but treat him for smoke inhalation anyway, his mask was cracked. MOVE PEOPLE!”

45 minutes earlier….

Burnt Sand (ao3) - maikurosaki steve/bucky E, 30k

Summary: Steve Rogers thinks he's completely fine: he's a great firefighter, he has awesome friends, and his occasional interactions with Bucky Barnes always put a smile on his face. But, in between a rescue mission at work that leaves him shaken and a blast from the past that leaves him reeling, Steve comes to the realization that he needs to be brave and go after what he wants. The problem is he's not sure he can follow this through.

Or: Steve Rogers is a firefighter with commitment issues. Bucky Barnes is an army veteran turned bartender with a different set of issues. Somehow, they make it work.

Engine 12 (ao3) - bethy_277 pepper/tony, hope/scott N/R, 41k

Summary: Tony Stark is a 30something firefighter in New York City, when he saves 6 year old Peter Parker from a fire. The kid loses his parents in the fire, and for some reason, he takes a place in Tony's heart.

Eternal Flame (ao3) - 74days steve/bucky, pepper/tony T, 14k

Summary: There's a bet at the Firehouse that Barton'll go for more than anyone else at the Charity Auction - and Bucky finds himself roped into the whole thing against his will.

It's all fun and games until a mystery phone bidder pays waaaaay to much to get Bucky alone.

He's gonna end up dead in an alleyway because of Barton and his stupid bet.

Everything Happens For A Riesling (ao3) - TaraSoleil G, 1k

Summary: A fire at Stark's mansion leaves firefighters Steve & Bucky trapped.

Gotta Have Some Hot Stuff, Gotta Have Some Love Tonight (ao3) - OriginalCeenote bucky/clint, steve/sam M, 5k

Summary: “We’ve got another call, Barton.”

“Huh?”

“Get back in the rig. Stop staring at Barnes’ ass.” Nat’s voice sounded more amused than impatient, and Clint realized that he was staring. Wasn’t his damned fault that Barnes was wearing those khaki Dickies pants, was it?

I Stare Into the Fire (It Signifies My Desire) (ao3) - laudatenium steve/tony T, 6k

Summary: They keep telling Tony to evacuate. The smoke's too thick, he'll suffocate.

But who's gonna force him to leave? Not the fire captain, no sir.

More than Friends (ao3) - Neverever steve/tony T, 7k

Summary: Deputy Police Chief Tony Stark wonders if there is more to his flirting with the new Fire Chief Steve Rogers. After all, everyone treats them like they come as a matched set. Meanwhile Steve wants to find the serial arsonist in town.

not shy of a spark (ao3) - burning_brighter art (burning_brighter), cable-knit-sweater (cable_knit_sweater) steve/bucky, wanda/sam E, 5k

Summary: EMT Steve doesn't like firefighters. They're arrogant, more muscle than brains, and everyone falls over themselves for these supposed heroes. He really can't stand them, and doesn't understand how his friend and colleague Wanda can be attracted to any of them.

Firefighter Bucky going into an unsafe building with an oxygen tank that's low is just more proof of their stupidity. But when Bucky comes out of the building cradling a tiny cat to his chest, Steve can't help but be a little endeared.

It doesn't change anything though; firefighters are still the worst.

Or that's what he tells himself, even as he goes to check up on the cat later that week.

Definitely to check on the cat, not because he wants to see Bucky again. He certainly isn't disappointed to hear Bucky has transferred to another firehouse.

It's also what he tells himself when Bucky shows up to work at Steve's firehouse the next week. Steve doesn't do firefighters. No matter how cute. Right?

Unfortunately, Bucky turning out to not be as bad as he initially thought - and maybe also his tendency to walking around half naked at work - makes it a little harder for Steve to stick to his story.

Playing with Fire (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint E, 5k

Summary: “Three o’clock,” Natasha says and Clint looks automatically, not registering the glint of mischief in her eyes until he’s already looking.

“Why is he stripping,” Clint whispers, outraged.

Bucky Barnes is standing a few meters away from them, tugging his shirt over his head. He doesn’t wax his chest during the winter months, apparently, because there’s a trail of dark hair that Clint really, really wants to get his mouth on. He’s stuck staring like an idiot as Bucky throws his shirt over the door of the firetruck, every inch of his ridiculously hot upper half on display. He can almost feel the brain cells in his head frying just from the sight.

Stoke This Fire In My Heart (ao3) - JustAnotherMarvelGirl wanda/vision T, 1k

Summary: When Wanda gets injured on the job, Vision can't deny his feelings for her anymore.

The best view comes after the hardest climb (ao3) - hopelessly_me bucky/clint T, 1k

Summary: On the ten year anniversary of 9/11, Bucky finally joined his support group in participating in the 911 Tower Challenge.

The Hazards Of Falling In Love (Rescue Me) (ao3) - EmmaLostInWonderland T, 4k

Summary:

“So that’s your name?” Rogers hasn't looked away from him once. His eyes are a piercing blue, and Tony barely manages to keep from squirming under his gaze.

“Yeah. Or Telecommunications Operator Stark, if we’re getting technical about it.”

“Are we?”

Tony tilts his head slightly. “Depends. Can I call you Steve?”

The man grins. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Tony.”

// Tony Stark doesn't date firemen. But he'll make an exception for Battalion Chief Steve Rogers.

The heat of you (ao3) - queerastronaut sam/bucky, background carol/maria M, 15k

Summary: Sam's a paramedic. Bucky's a firefighter. They hate each other's gut but somehow, they keep saving each other's lives. Until one day, the fire gets too big too fast and Sam realizes that he may not hate James Barnes as much as he thought.

the new romeo and juliet (ao3) - imposterhuman bucky/tony G, 2k

Summary: Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

Trying to Stay Warm (ao3) - freedvmrouge G, 2k

Summary: After waking up from the ice, what if Steve became a firefighter-paramedic instead?

Wildfire (ao3) - 70SecretKinks steve/bucky T, 1k

Summary: No amount of training in the world could prepare rookie firefighter Steve Rogers for the force and fury of a California wildfire. But even a sea of fiery flames paled in comparison to hot-as-hell fellow fireman, Bucky Barnes.

[moonylilies]

2023 Art Summary!!

so here's a single piece from each month i did!! i really wish i did more art this year, so hopefully (and most likely) next year i will!!

below under the cut are links to the ones i managed to post along with my art goals and some thoughts for the next year

thank you so much for those who have been following me this year and i hope we can continue to grow doing what we desire in the next year :3

yall can skip reading this if you just wanna go see the links; most of you probably know i went back to college in january, which unfortunately caused me to gain major art block (ew) when my depression creeped up. i also had like no time this semester with the large ammt of courses i took (i took 6 classes and it killed me with the course load since most of them were online. never again i will be making that mistake). when i go back to classes in january, i hopefully will not be as dying as i was this semester since i am taking a majority art course load. im even taking a printmaking class which means yall will be gettin some goodies posted hopefully

my art goal for next year besides getting more commissions lol (which if you are interested can see about here) is to be able to draw full bodies - i still can't and ive been drawing humans as my main thing for at least 6 years now. i will def be practicing next year by doing many figure studies lol. i also hope i can manage to figure out how to do backgrounds besides the basic ones i tend to do i also hope that with my shop i can break some of my records like getting new states i haven't shipped to yet so that my state ammt goes up from 8 to maybe 10, having my total ammt going up to around 50 sales from 35, getting more fans for my art who love the stickers and prints i am making, ect ect i wasn't able to this year. while i am on winter break, i am trying to set up a shop update for before classes start again which i will be updating on here about when i remember to do so (honestly the hardest thing for me while having an art acct to promote my art and shop is making content besides just posting my art online and hoping people like it)

links for art + what the ones that don't have links are lol: january: lunar new year rabbits feburary: ft ferris bueller's day off au (this one is the one i am the most proud of) march: lucy redesign april: team shadowgear hehehe (this one's my favourite i did this year) may: yuki got hit by a car june: sketch of my oc alyss july: levy for part of my colour wheel challenge that is still a wip (tiktok one two ; reels one two) august: wally ice cream (aka a future sticker) september: art of my oc adora october: the sun tarot card feat sting eucliffe (wip portion is linked) november: bisca icon december: ramen sticker (a sticker soon to drop in my shop once i do a shop update soon)

[comatosebunny09]

forget me not

genre: angst, modern au

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, heartbreak, pining, crimelord!kyo, female!reader

music: adieu - emily bindiger / clair de lune - claude debussy

You had called him after the sun took refuge behind the mountains. 

When the sky was violet, and stars spilled across it like paint. 

Swaddled in the blue light of his cell and the gentle murmur of his engine, Kyojuro reached for the driver-side handle and threw the door open. The wind was fearsome, ruffling his hair and threatening to knock him off his feet. 

But the sound of your voice breaking through the staticky speaker kept him tethered to Earth.

He nearly dropped his phone when he slid into the leather seat, fumbling to connect you to the Bluetooth. Wild-eyed and swallowing thickly, his nerves solar flares beneath his skin.

“Hey,” you said. 

Light as silk, a simple greeting filled his spacious convertible and his head with vertigo. There was apprehension swimming beneath the soprano of your tone. A slight waver. A shaky sigh as if the world’s weight was on your shoulders. 

“Hey,” he parroted, masking the tremor of his own voice.

Sat up, spine painfully stiff. Never gripped the shifter tighter. The fine hairs littering his body stood at attention. He found himself straining every molecule inside to hear you again.

To feel you again.

It had been months, after all. Since he last heard from you. Saw you. He never thought he would again, having fled the city to let you reassemble the jagged shards of your heart.

Alone.

Said it was best because he was destroying you. Stripping you down to the marrow, bleeding you dry. A good girl like you didn’t deserve to be dragged down by a scoundrel like him. You deserved happiness. Freedom. Stability.

Kyojuro watched the dam keeping your emotions at bay splinter, tears pouring in rivulets down your cheeks. He could still hear your shrill cries for him to stay. You clung to his sleeve. Pounded tiny fists against his chest. He watched emotions fleet across your face like torn film reels, all passive and tight-lipped. He had to be. It was the only way to make this breakup clean. 

Sand filled his throat, and his heart sank into the empty chasm of his stomach as he left.

Forever.

Or so he thought.

He couldn’t understand; why he clung to every minute sound—every burst of static, every heave of breath. Strangled the leather of his steering wheel, and his foot hovered over the pedal. 

Say the word. Just say it. Just—

“I… didn’t know who else to call.” 

Your voice popped and fizzed like a bonfire, cutting through the dissonance of his mind. He could taste the brine of tears welling up beneath your lashes. Could sense you receding into yourself, rubbing your arms to ward off the cold. Pictured you with your back against a wall, fighting against the quake of your shoulders and biting your lips to keep from whimpering.

The thought made the warmth of fondness wade over him. He couldn’t help the quirk of his lips as he leaned back against the seat. You were always such a crybaby. His crybaby.

Somehow, the notion was comforting. Knowing that you needed him. That he was at the forefront of your mind after all this time. Sure, a part of him felt sick. Deplorable. Hollow. But he couldn’t ignore how his body tingled.

Assuredness drenched his timbre as he asked, 

“Where are you?”

The ping in his notifications was instantaneous. As was the airiness that inhabited your voice as you breathed a

“Thank you.”

Kyojuro nodded to no one, your pin drop flooding the dash screen, a melancholy smile rounding his lips. He peeled out of the parking lot without thinking, the roar of his motor mirroring the wild flutter of his heart.

[axiro]

Through the Dragon's Eyes || Talon AU Hanzo Shimada

Chapter Nine - Ad Hominem

Who's left to blame.

Chapter Master List || AO3

Any underlined text signifies background music/ambiance is linked. :)

Hanzo wakes to a chill against his back, and rumbling surroundings. Vision remaining dark, body staying still, he listens. There's whispering not far from him. Trying to make out what's being said is difficult, especially as pain begins to try and drag his attention away. His head reels, making him feel as if his body is going to sink into the surface beneath. A pained groan passes his lips. The whispering stops.

Footsteps approach, stopping on his right. He can feel their presence, yet they're uncomfortably silent. Breathing through the nausea his spinning mind is causing, he weakly opens his eyes. Glancing over, it takes a moment for his sight to remedy of any blur, revealing who is standing prim at his side. Her gaunt features study his own, seemingly uncaring about the discomfort he's in. Her two toned gaze drags away with the rest of her as she walks off. Moments later, the metal table he's laid upon begins to fold upwards, rising him to a more sitting position.

"Took quite a fall, did you, Shimada?" She asks, her tone almost mocking.

Hanzo doesn't reply, just turning his head to face straight and continuing to breathe as the nausea slowly begins to fade. In his right arm is an IV, leading up to a bag that's hanging off the hook of a larger medical apparatus on wheels by the table. It seems rather primitive compared to what he knows this medic is capable of. Why hasn't she just patched him up completely already, he wonders. Moira. What could she be thinking? What could she be doing? Knowing her history, he feels he has every right to question anything she does, no matter how little.

He's unsure how long it's been since he was knocked out, nor how long he's been in transit before he awoke. He wants so greatly to get away from the current situation due to the discomfort of the other's presence. Plus, he doesn't want her to take care of something he knows how to deal with himself. This is ridiculous. It's wasting his time.

Beginning to turn to face his back to the geneticist, he slides his legs off the side, feet touching the floor. Bare skin presses against cold steel, causing a shiver. The chill paired with the refrigerated contents of the liquid drip tethered directly into his vein is an unpleasant feeling.

"I would not recommend that." Moira says.

He ignores her. Gently pushing his weak body off the table's edge, he goes to stand. The dizziness returns tenfold and gravity shifts. He stumbles, tumbling down onto his knees with one hand hitting the table to try to catch himself on the way down, causing the IV apparatus to clang against the other side as it wheels along with his fall.

This surprises him.

Sure, he took quite a bit of damage, yet he's walked away from things like this with at least some, if not most of his strength left before. Now, he feels as if it's been drained from him. Muscles like that of a newborn, he's unable to lift himself back up onto the table, simply sitting on the ground with his hand still gripping the tables edge, confusion and frustration constricting his features.

"If you wish to be stupid, so be it. Just know that will delay the process." Moira sighs, walking around the table to stand in front of him.

Bending down to assess the bandage on his chest, she begins to remove it, pushing aside his opened shirt for easier access. Without the strength to lift his arm to keep hers away, he can do nothing but wait for her to finish. Once the bandage is removed, she hums to herself.

"Fascinating." She mumbles.

That's... worrying.

Straightening back up, she walks back around to where she was before. The scribble of a pen can be heard behind him. Once again, he remains stagnant, still upon his knees on the cold metal floor. There's several minutes of scribbling, button beeping, pacing and more, yet he pays it no mind, simply staring at the ground with exhaustion.

His head finally stills of the spinning, the silence being broken not long after.

"You will remain under my care until you are functional." Moira says as her footsteps leave the room, door sliding open and subsequently shut with her departure.

Fascinating. Functional. Those words she used are a strange way to refer to him. It's obvious she in fact truly does not see him as a patient, but perhaps more of a machine. A tool. He has been just that for Talon. He knew this would be the reality going into it, just like he has every intention of using that to his advantage to get out of it.

Suddenly, he remembers. With a small inhale, his memory begins to remind him of what happened. The job. That was it. The last thing he needed to do before he could start tearing them apart from the inside. However, the crash...

The crash.

He doesn't know if the cowboy survived. If the job is truly done. They both hung there, looking at one-another in mutual understanding of their situation. They both fell. Cassidy... tried to catch him.

Why?

Why didn't he just watch as Hanzo fell to his life's end instead of making an attempt at saving it?

Too many questions. Too little energy. Hanzo doubts he'll ever be able to know the answers, anyways. His head hangs as he slides his hand off the table, letting it drop to his side before he carefully, slowly adjusts to just lie on the floor entirely. Knees pointed to the side and right arm over his torso, he rests through the remainder of the journey back to the hell-scape that awaits him.

If only it could hold a candle to the one in his mind.

----------

Hanzo feels the ship land. The engine begins to whir slower, it's deep whine fading in volume. He sits up, luckily this time without any unpleasant responses from his body. In fact, he feels good. Looking down at his torso he notices the gunshot wound is gone. Not completely, but it's sealed up as if it's already been healing for weeks. All that's left is what looks like a scar.

It's wrong.

Standing up, he claws at the tube that's patched to the vein in his arm, quickly gripping, pulling and disconnecting it from his system, the sound of ripping tape bouncing off the metal surroundings. Throwing it down, he turns away, clasping his left palm down on the insertion site as he rounds the table to search the counters for something to wrap it with. Spotting some gauze and bandaging, he grabs it, ready to do what needs done. Removing his hand, he observes the spot.

There isn't one. Not even the tiniest needle dot.

He drops the supplies, running his left thumb over the area. It doesn't even ache.

Turning around, he takes a few quick steps towards the table he was on earlier, grabbing the IV bag that's still hanging from it's hook. It's clear. Nothing is written on it. Just completely blank. The door to the room slides open. Moira enters with a few guards tailing behind.

"You'd do well not to mess with things that do not belong to you, agent." She says.

God, it's hard to read her. He hates that.

He removes his hand from the bag, eyeing her.

"I expect you will explain your methods, then." He says through gritted teeth.

Moira smirks, rotating her head ever so slightly to the side.

"You are responding well. I am very pleased." She pauses. "An explanation will do very little. The most I can offer you in form of words is that I healed you."

She walks forwards, the guards still tailing her as if she holds an invisible leash to each.

"As per my responsibility. I am your medic. Now, please dress yourself, we're to speak with the commander at once."

What exactly it is she's done, Hanzo isn't sure. It's unnatural, whatever it was, and he does not like the way its going. For now, he locates his boots on the floor by the door, putting them on and adjusting his clothing back to normal. He has no band or ribbon to put his hair back up, as seemingly those items have been lost sometime between now and the train.

Once he's made himself as presentable as possible, he re-approaches Moira. Walking off the vessel as a group, he once again crosses the surface of the large helipad he touched down upon when he first arrived. Back down the same path. Back to the same damn meeting room.

In the conference area, he sees Reaper standing in wait, arms crossed, his brooding aura practically steaming off his person. Once Hanzo's group enters, the wraith releases his arms, letting them hang by his sides as he approaches, heavy footsteps apparent.

"Well?" He asks, an expectant tone slathered with his signature growl as he looks to Hanzo.

Hanzo exhales lightly. He's stood in front of the clan elders and his father in such a manner when he's fucked up before. Yet, this is different. He didn't fuck up. He holds his ground, knowing his following explanation is truthful.

"There was an interference." Hanzo states, straightforwardly.

"No shit." Reaper replies.

There's a bitter few seconds of silence between the two of them before Hanzo continues.

"An explosion. It must have been pre-set. The train de-railed with us both upon it."

Reaper approaches a little closer.

"Did you lose him?" He asks, lowly.

"For reasons outside of my immediate control, I-"

Reaper hums in deep irritation, cutting the assassin off before just as quickly becoming terribly close, his face mere inches from Hanzo's. There's a chill surrounding him like that of a ghost.

"I do not know what became of him." Hanzo finishes.

Reaper scans the other's face for a few long moments, his very presence feeling like a drain on the archer's soul.

"You. Don't. Know." He echoes.

With an airy hiss of a sigh, he backs off. Then, he looks to Moira.

"We need to talk. Alone." He growls. "And you," he points to Hanzo, "I will discuss this with you later. Leave."

With an abrupt end to the meeting, Hanzo takes a few steps backwards before departing without another word, the guards escorting him to a new area he hasn't yet seen. The medical ward. He's practically just pushed inside before they shut and lock the door behind him.

He glares at the door before shaking it off, instead choosing to look about the room. It's rather empty, save for a few typical rolling beds, a wheelchair in the back corner and meticulously organized equipment among the counter tops and rolling metal operation tables. He sits on the edge of one of the beds, attention shifting to his chest.

Reaching his hand into the fold of his top, he feels at the gunshot wound. It's a little bumpy but nothing abnormal from what a mostly healed wound like this would be expected to be like. However, the strange feeling of an abnormal strength remains. He experienced both sides of the spectrum mere hours apart, neither even touching any semblance of normal in between.

It's a miracle he survived in the first place. He fell with an entire train car into a river, somehow didn't drown during his black-out and ended up back, well... here. The whole thing is fishy. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume Talon in fact directly had something to do with the bomb. A failsafe with no room for him in its thoughts. He's not about to vocalize that, of course.

He needs proof. As confident as he is about this conclusion, he can't act without knowing how many cards they're holding.

His thoughts are pulled back to the present a few minutes later as the door unlocks. Reaper enters with Moira in tail. The wraith is silent. Seems whatever they spoke of once he left is very much on his mind.

He walks up to Hanzo.

"Details. Now." He demands.

Just like before, Hanzo explains everything. The fight. The bomb. The fall. He leaves out the mention of Cassidy seemingly trying to catch him. Reaper listens, still as a statue through the whole thing. Once Hanzo finishes, he sighs.

"I'll have Sombra send out drones to investigate the site. If we don't find a body," he pauses, "we're back to square one."

And Hanzo is still stuck in the deal.

Hanzo curses to himself in a whisper. Starting over in this type of situation is less than desirable. He finds himself hoping his target did in fact perish. That the body will be found somewhere downstream. Another part of him is disgusted with that desire. He lightly shakes his head, exhaling through his nose in displeasure.

"I see." Hanzo replies, monotonously.

"You're going to remain here until you're fully healed. A day or two, maximum." Reaper says, his glare shifting to Moira for those last few words.

Moira meets the look with her own signature gaze, calm and quiet. The gruff man growls quietly, only to where Hanzo can barely hear it. The medic is once again by his side as the door slides shut after Reaper disappears, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

[firewoodfigs]

♥️ and 🎨 for the ask game :)

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

oooo!!! off the top of my head (and only scouring very recent fics/poems that i've written, which is to say not a lot), it would probably be:

sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won't tell no other

That summer, the desert barren, swollen with grief; dreams of glory frayed and worn. 

a study in reformation (chapter 7)

"Goodnight, Riza. Sweet dreams.” A chuckle, a prelude to something ludicrous. “And by that, I mean you have my permission to dream about me.”  “That would be quite the nightmare, wouldn’t it?” A noise of protest, feigning injury. Her smile doesn’t waver. “Goodnight, Roy. Thank you.”  “Anytime.” 

also i think there was a line i wrote in an earlier chapter that was something like "maybe it's simply a proletariat's fate, to trade impractical dreams for rent money" that was entirely personal lmao

i wove a wreath to keep us from death's tender breath

I wove a wreath to keep us from death's tender breath / a peace lily, settling in grief's buoyant sea.

also these are some lines from a song I'd originally intended to finish recording for royai week 2023, but will probably only get around to doing so in august haha...

in this dream, you were / shimmering / aurora in spring / chasing brass rings / wasn't worth our weight / in gold ... but all our wishes upon tarnished stars / have bled into / catastrophe and war / claimed our youths / and maimed our truths

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

OOOOO omg honestly i adore fanart in all forms, but if i had to pick -- there was a scene in the latest chapter of the college au / ch. 7 of a study in reformation that really started out as a film scene in my head. specifically the scene where roy and riza were hanging out at the party alone, gazing at the party crowd uncomprehendingly as they lean back against the cluttered table of drinks and re-evaluating what they know about each other, with roy being all like "there's a lot you don't know about me, and i'm sure there's a lot i don't know about you, too" LIKE. to be known is to be loved and we are slowly getting there >:)))

honorary mentions go to: (i) the scene in sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won't tell no other where Roy braids Riza's hair after she gets ridiculed at school, and she sees her mother's reflection in her cup of tea; (ii) the scene in and if this is the long haul, how'd we get here so soon where they're sitting on a bench in the amestrian version of coney island, staring at the ferris wheel forlornly like it's a reel of everything that could've been, if they'd been unmaimed by their sins; and (iii) the scene in no matter the hearts you burn, in mine you shall always remain where Roy and Riza (and their gremlin child Ed) get shoved into traditional xingese garb by a herd of overpowering maidservants.

ANYWAY. I WOULD LITERALLY BE OVER THE MOON like these visuals lurk around in my head like film scenes but i am aesthetically challenged and incapable of drawing anything beyond stickmen unfortunately.

special shoutout to volvare for her incredible depiction of the balcony scene in memento amare and smoothshine for her breathtaking illustration of THAT scene in and you get lost when you're led by blind faith!!! y'all are insane and your art lives rent free in my mind <3

thanks for the ask, lovely! i had so much fun answering this one - have the best weekend!!! xx

[corruptimles]

Old sketches I just found featuring @robboyblunder’s ROTWAU Henry with my Norman because they’re an awful couple

Dialogue under cut because I didn’t rewrite the original text so it’s hard to read:

Norman: Hey if I try to stick one of th’ Bendys in this, would you stop me? Henry: Absolutely not. Norman : Nice

Norman :  Hey Sam, can I borrow Bendy for something?  Sammy: Why are you asking me?  Norman: Yer kinda like his other dad or somethin? If yer gonna marry Henry I mean

Norman: Hey kid, wanna do something real stupid? Bendy: Okay! (Sammy *incapacitated*: dad? marry him? marry? propose? marriage? marry?)

[robsdoodlebook]

Here’s a big ol compilation of Au doodles I did for me and @maulan-reverie because I felt like it LOL. Lots of shenanigans to behold...