#so much better than being stagnant and just whine about everyone else

[syrupmap]

Reaction post to this one because it's been driving me crazy the entire day 😅

I see a totally different thing.

Ray and Fraser are so perfectly in sync that Fraser doesn't even have to chew it all out for Ray because Ray understands Fraser on a much deeper level. Their partnership goes beyond words.

Ray knows Fraser is shaken up (he tells Welsh and Welsh trusts that Ray knows what's going on with Fraser) and that he's working on things on a deeper layer than this case.

Ray hasn't even met Victoria but he knows Scarpa is not to be trusted. She's manipulative and she's playing games with Fraser. He just doesn't know that Fraser sees through it. Even though Fraser keeps telling him.

But Fraser also knows he has this one chance to finally show himself that he is not going to fall for something like this again. Maybe even that he can open up and love.

That he is capable of doing this and not losing himself in the process again. He's learning to bluff.

And he has to do this part alone. Because the other time, it was taken from him by a bullet in the back.

So let me present you the way I see it. Fraser completely trusting Ray to have his back.

Ray being an absolute hero. There was never any doubt in Fraser's mind that Ray would get it, get him.

Song: Lost in Moments by Ulver

[nevermorgue]

Hello Hayley! I've been binge reading your Nevermore headcanons and I LOVE every single one. If you're taking requests, may I ask for some Montresor and Morella friendship headcanons please? I feel like they would tease each other, but be able to bond over a shared love of food. Thank you for all of your work :D

YES!!! I was so inspired by pluto’s morella and monty platonic art in the server. i love the idea of them getting along. but to start, i’m gonna be evil

- Obviously things wouldn’t go so great. Morella doesn’t like him and actively stands up against his nonsense. Montresor probably only sees her spectre, really. He understands that her defense skills are necessary. Probably thinks she’s too kind hearted. Probably also thinks she’s stupid to some degree, but not entirely because of how she stood up to him.

- I can only imagine their relationship changing if Morella just kinda forced herself to tolerate him to keep the peace as much as possible. She doesn’t want unnecessary problems to arise (like the wall thing) nor does she want to feed into what he wants (her to snap/react)

- So her method is to attempt to treat him the way she treats everyone else. Montresor finds it amusing, using her kindness against her and purposely being worse to get her to break.

- That backfires. He’s trying to put her on a Will/Ada level, but Morella is too headstrong to be fooled. She’s kind to be kind, and his pleasantries don’t work on her. If anything, she’s more responsive when he drops the whole charisma thing- because he’s being REAL.

- With this dynamic established. Imagine. She’s a great cook. She ends up making a big meal for the misfits and is oh so kind enough to save a bowl for him. She knows damn well he doesn’t deserve it, but her continuing to be nice to him despite how horrible he is…it’s kinda like a game between them now. She’s trying to say she’s better than him with every kind act. And he’s not only entertained/mildly pissed, but he’s stubborn and wants her to snap and drop the act so he plays along.

- “Lemme guess, doll. Poison’s in here. Naw…maybe dirt.”

“Just spices and care, Montresor. Try it!”

And of course, it tastes fantastic. He says it tastes like shit and slams the door in her face. He eats the entire bowl.

- As time goes on, Montresor doesn’t realize it but he’s starting to see her as less of a game like his lackeys and more of a neutral company that he doesn’t really necessarily hate. And he can tell that their ‘game’ goes more and more stagnant as Morella becomes less faux-kind, allowing herself to pout or scold him. It’s become less of a “try to get the other to back off” and more of a natural sort of interaction.

- She genuinely asks him if he’s ever brushed his hair in his life. He proceeds to answer by running his fingers through his hair, only to cuss when he hits a particularly nasty knot.

- She just kinda tosses a spare hair brush at him. She’s not willing enough to touch him/comb his greasy ass hair for him, but at least gives him the means to do it himself.

- I do agree that they bond over food. They have big stomachs and Morella is just so good at cooking.

- Ada invites Morella to sit with her and Monty in the common area once. She was hesitant, but agrees after she’s encouraged by the misfits to go for some strange reason.

- But once the interaction starts, Morella can tell that Ada doesn’t really want her there. She keeps glaring and tugging Montresor’s sleeve, as she always does.

- It doesn’t dawn on her why she was invited until Ada spills it.

“Why did you want her here so bad, dear? I wanted my alone time with you…” Ada would whine. Ada doesn’t HATE Morella, but she’s still not very happy about their argument in the cellar.

Morella can’t believe what she’s hearing. It wasn’t Ada that wanted her here- but Montresor

- She grins. She has no idea what their relationship really is or if it can be anything other than a okayish neutral, but perhaps this moment right here is proof that Monty can feel something that isn’t cruel or unnecessary.

- And Montresor? Refuses to look her in the eye. She’s not terrible. But don’t get him wrong, it’s only because she’s in the middle. Not smart enough to be on Annabel or Prospero’s strategy levels, but not pushover-y enough to be of any use to him. That’s it.

[0averysillygoose0]

I can still make the whole place shimmer (with the skin of a killer, Bella)- Chapter five

Prologue and previous chapters are in my master list♡

Summary

Angelica Cullen was supposed to have died over 300 years ago, but now she gets to watch as her adoptive brother stalks some girl from Arizona.

Born in the 1600s to one Carlisle Cullen and his first wife- a woman whose name has since faded into obscurity, Angelica was never supposed to amount to much more than marriage and children. Now a perpetual sixteen-year-old who wants nothing more than to be able to paint her nails in peace to the Mama Mia soundtrack, she finds herself with little to occupy her time.

Her relationship with her family is growing more strained by the day. The cycle of high school has long since become dull and draining, and despite her desperation for something else, she's forced to stay stagnant for 'the good of the family'.

A family who's wearing her patience thin.

Then Bella Swan moves to Forks and Angelica's pressure is suddenly raised as the Cullen family is thrown into a potentially life-ending challenge every five business days. The Quillute are watching closely, as are the Volturi for any slip-ups, and in the world of the supernatural, Angelica has the grace of a baby deer.

♡ ♡ ♡

Chapter five A pretty girl in the woods? How very demure.

Edward had been gone for five days and Angelica should have been having the time of her life. He’d left in a hurry for Alaska, seeking refuge with the Denalis, after the “Bella incident” as it had been deemed and since then the entire household had been on high alert. A strict lockdown had been enforced on all members of the family until the boy returned and they could get to the bottom of what exactly about the Swan girl’s blood was so potent.

“I was around her for all of PE and I was fine.” Angelica had insisted when Carlisle had first told her of his decision. 

Edward had left only an hour earlier and Esme was already beside herself with worry. She was downstairs in the kitchen pacing back and forth. Alice had assured them that he wouldn’t be long, a week at most, but Angelica couldn’t care less. 

“You can’t prove that nothing would happen.” He’d shaken his head, leaning against her bedroom wall. “If any of our control isn’t as strong as Edward’s-”

“You don’t think I have better self control than a teenage boy? ” Angelica demanded incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” 

She sat stubbornly on her bed, wearing a faded mustard sweatshirt for a highschool that she could scarcely remember attending and a pair of worn blue pajama shorts. Irritation pricked her words and had blood still flowed through her veins, her face would have undoubtedly resembled a tomato in hue.

It was insulting, more than anything, the insinuation that her three hundred years of resistance was nothing compared to one girl, simply because Edward’s willpower had almost faltered. 

She was being trapped, or at least that’s what she felt was happening, confined to the house for a struggle that wasn’t her’s. Rationally, Angelica knew that she wasn’t alone in her imprisonment, that it wasn’t anything personal, that the whole family was isolating, but she felt resentment brewing in her stomach nonetheless. 

“Angelica, it’s not just you we need to consider.” Carlisle let out a sigh, rocking back and forth slightly on his heels.  “I want all of us to air on the side of caution.” 

“If it’s not me, then why do I have to be stuck here too?” She protested. Her voice was petering off into a childish whine and she was painfully aware that everyone else in the house could hear it. “Why can’t you just trust me-”  

“I do trust you.” He insisted.

His voice was steady and firm but Angelica refused to take his statement at face value. Carlisle always claimed to trust her fervently, and the words he used to assure her were always solid and earnest. But she wasn’t to hunt alone, she wasn’t to settle her own disagreements with her siblings and now she wasn’t to go to school because, despite successfully resisting her most basic instinct for over three hundred years, Edward couldn’t crack it and surely that meant she too was incapable.

She’s been on edge since she’d seen him in the parking lot. Something inside her, a voice that had started small but had grown wings, that insisted they were headed off the deep end. Her chest, that didn’t need to rise and fall in the first place, had felt tight for the past several hours.

“Then let me do this.” Angelica insisted, attempting to keep her words level. “I was around that girl for an hour and I was fine - I would’ve barely remembered her if it wasn’t for this whole clusterfuck.” She gestured around her vaguely.

Carlisle hesitated, opening his mouth only to shut it quickly once more. “I don’t want you there without someone to keep an eye on you.” He said finally. 

“Because you don’t trust me.” “No.” He said quickly, stepping forward. 

“Then why do I always need a chaperone like it’s still the 1800s?” Angelica demanded. She wanted to say more, but she knew that using examples of her limited allowances would only be met with rationalizations and explanations so set in stone and trodden out that she couldn’t maneuver an answer around them. 

“I can go places alone, Dad- I can handle it. Almost every other teenager goes to school without someone there to watch them, I’ll be fine.” She continued.

“No one is going anywhere until your brother returns.” Carlisle said firmly. “It’s not up for debate.”

Edward had told Carlisle he was leaving for Alaska. He hadn’t asked for permission, yet he’d been given it anyway. And in return, he didn’t owe anything , not a phone call, not a date or time or even an explanation, while Angelica had to beg to attend school and was denied.

“But we don’t know how long that will be.” She insisted.

“Alice said about a week at most, that’s hardly anything. “ He tilted his head to the side, studying her thoughtfully. “Esme told me you said that you were getting tired of school, sweetheart. This is a good opportunity to take a bit of a break.” He tried, a pursed smile tugging at his lips.

Angelica could feel a swell of panic rise up in her as she realized what was happening. This was surely the beginning of the end of their time in Forks. The incident from the hunt had been a mere precursor and Edward’s obsession with the new girl’s blood was taking the stage as the main event. Carlisle always did this, always tried to distract her with half baked positives. Her foot tapped against the wooden floor, drumming out a rhythm of nerves and worries. 

“Why  should my life be put on pause for him?”  Angelica demanded suddenly.

Carlisle sighed. 

“Because we’re a family and sometimes we need to put others’ needs above our own.” She could hear the irritation lacing his words. She wanted to just shut up and be fine, but she couldn’t.

“It’s always their needs though!” Angelica protested and she knew it had come out as a whine by the way her father’s face creased with frustration. 

He never yelled, or hit her. Carlisle’s anger, rare as it was, was a cold and calm thing that almost unsettled Angelica more than a regular outburst would have. Almost.

She could see the emotion building up in him, slowly and surely. A part of her wanted to push it further. 

“Angelica, we give up a lot for you as well.” He said quietly. “You and Edward had an argument, I drove you. You want to have human friends, we do our best to accommodate-“

“That’s a normal thing.” Angelica snapped. “Me having friends is a normal thing .  That shouldn’t be a sacrifice. I need friends- Everyone needs friends. Humans are social animals.“ Her voice kilted up and settled further back in her mouth as it slipped into what had once been her accent, as it often did when she was upset.

“We aren’t human.” Carlisle reminded her, and his voice was gentle once more, almost pitiful. 

“Our bodies changed, not our minds!” Angelica protested. “Why do you think we’ve collected all these people- we want a group! You have yours, why can’t I have mine?”

Carlisle frowned. “They’re yours as well, Angelica.”

“And I love them, but I need more.” She said, the words familiar on her tongue. “Please just let me go to school until Edward gets back.”

“Why do you need to be there so badly?” He asked and there was a foreign edge of suspicion to his voice. Carlisle lowered himself beside her on the bed and Angelica frowned.

“Because I know you’re going to drag us away soon.” She muttered. 

“I told you last night that isn’t what’s happening and that’s still the case. I’m just waiting for everything to settle down is all.”

“But it feels like you’re going to,” She insisted, “And if I feel like you’re going to and I’m here all day. It’s going to be in my head and it’s not going to leave.” 

Carlisle was a profoundly talented doctor when it came to bodies, perhaps the best in the world. His knowledge was vast and his skills were masterful. But the mind was another matter altogether. Being kind and considerate could only take you so far.

Angelica had tried to explain it before, the sudden pangs of fear and worry that held her down and lingered past their welcome, and he would nod sympathetically and tell her it would be fine. But it wasn’t fine, not really. It hadn’t been even when she was human. It was like there was something inside her, not a monster like Edward claimed, but a spiral that tightened around her.  

“You need to trust me.” He said. 

“But-”

“What you’re worried about is just in your head, that’s all.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“I know it’s in my head, but it’s not going anywhere and I know it sounds dumb, but if I’m just stuck here wondering if we’re leaving or not, it’s not gonna leave.”

“I’ve told you what I can for now.” He murmured, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m sorry that you feel this way. But now I need you to follow through with what I’ve asked.”

“But I-”

“I’ve said no, and that’s what my answer will remain.” 

“You aren’t listening to me!” She snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. 

“I’m trying, Angelica, but you don’t seem to want to listen either.” He said evenly. “You’re staying until Edward returns.”

Angelica glared out at the window.

“Whatever, forget it.” She said tightly.

Carlisle sighed and rose up from the bed, dusting off imaginary grime from his freshly pressed pants.

“I’ll be downstairs. I think Esme wants us to play a board game.”

Angelica didn’t respond. She didn’t leave her room for the rest of the night. When Carlisle returned a few hours later, he found her phone discarded on the floor  and her bed empty. 

***

Angelica sat in the forest, atop a rotting log. Behind her, lay a clear path of destruction, leading to the spot she’d finally stopped at. Battered tree branches lay in her wake. She wondered how long it would take for them to realize she’d left. She probably didn’t have more than an hour.

Morning haze poked through the sky, dampened by rain clouds. Not for the first time, Angelica wished she could properly cry. 

Tearless sobs wracked her body and she took gasping, unneeded breaths. She was so frustrated and tired she felt like she could explode. Her nails dug into wood below her, leaving crescent scars in the log.

She was sick of it all. Sick of Edward and his melodrama, sick of Carlisle treating her like a baby, and sick of the world for keeping her trapped in a cycle of the same issues for over a hundred years.

Moss, damp with rain, soaked into her leggings making them cling to her skin. Angelica kicked at a clump of dirt.

She’d wanted a boiling point with Carlisle, finally a conclusion for years of an unspoken issue she’d tried time and time again to vocalize. Instead, she’d allowed him the last word as usual and she was miserable for it. Her words hadn’t been right, she’d stumbled over them and had tied them messily together.

Why did I yell at him? She shook her head. 

Angelica’s rage had boiled away, leaving a pang of guilt and a nagging frustration directed at herself this time, not her family. She’d let her emotions get the better of her, again.  Angelica knew that raising her voice would get her nowhere. She couldn’t recall what specifically had set her off, whether it had been a particular phrase or if it had just been the accumulation of everything mashed together.  

She wanted to believe that was the problem, that it had just been her inability to speak her swirling thoughts into reality. But a bitter part of her couldn’t help but think that even had she been able to communicate with the smooth perfection she longed for, nothing would have changed.

She took a shuddery breath.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A voice called from behind. 

Angelica turned sharply, expecting Carlisle or Rosalie. In her haze of cluttered emotions and heaving breaths she’d failed to catch the sounds of twigs snapping underfoot or the crackle of underbrush being pushed aside. 

A girl stood behind her, palms raised up defensively. She had tan skin and long, shiny black hair. She smelled like vanilla body spray and her eyes were carved out with mascara. Her face darted through Angelica’s mind. She’d been there at the treaty meeting back in November. She was one of the Quileute. 

Angelica had never spoken to a member of the tribe before. At the gatherings they had to ensure the terms and conditions of their contract was being followed, she'd always stayed quiet and tucked in at Carlisle’s side, told that it was better if she didn’t run her big mouth for once. 

In truth, she didn’t know much about the treaty, just that they weren’t to trespass, and any interaction between the two parties would be best left to scheduled meetings. Carlisle had made it abundantly clear to her on multiple occasions that Angelica wasn’t to interact with the group without a family member present. He hadn’t given her a straight answer when she’d asked why just a mumbled string of blather about contracts and clauses.

As the girl took in Angelica’s face, her golden eyes and pale skin, a look of realization dawned on her.

“Oh.” She said, her voice tight. “It’s you.”

“Shit.” Angelica mumbled, jolting upward and the girl flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was on,” She swallowed past the irritating  lump in her throat, “I was on your land,” She finished stiltedly. 

“You aren’t technically, just.. close.” She frowned.  

 The girl was lanky and dressed in a navy blue hoodie. She pulled the sweater sleeves over her knuckles. 

“I’m really sorry. I should go.”

“No, you’re… you’re fine.” She toed at the ground below with her converse. Her hands were tucked into her jean pockets. “Are you okay?”

The question took Angelica by surprise. She felt the weight of her hair shift off of her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side, confused.

“I didn’t know you guys could cry.” She continued.

“We can’t.” Angelica mumbled. She didn’t know if she should feel embarrassed. “Not really. No tears.”

“Oh.” 

“I’ll get going.”

“You don’t need to.” The girl frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk before. It’s Angelica, right?”

She nodded. 

“They make sure we know which one of you is which.” The girl supplied. She had chocolate brown eyes that crinkled at the edges as she peered out at the vampire. “I’m Hailee.”

“Angelica.” She replied automatically. “Wait no you already- yeah.” Angelica shook her head, her voice trailing off. 

“Yeah.” The other girl looked around.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She sighed. 

“You were ‘crying’ because you’re fine?” Hailee asked skeptically. 

Angelica frowned quizzically at the girl before her. Wind rustled the trees and the smell of rain hung heavily in the air. Above, swollen gray clouds were beginning to darken and the distant rumbles of thunder could be heard as they darted through the grove. 

“Why are you being so nice to me? You aren’t scared or anything?”

Hailee shrugged. “You seem fine from what I’ve heard. ” She hummed. “You’re friends with my cousin actually, Lillian?”

Angelica paused. In the stubborn waves of Hailie’s hair and the sharpness of her nose, she could make out glimpses of her friend. She was taller than Lilly, no doubt, leaner too. 

Pretty. The word flitted through her mind.

“Really?”

“Mhm. My dad wasn’t happy about it but obviously like he couldn’t tell her why.”

Angelica felt a weight fall off of her shoulders as she realized this girl knew and that no act on her part was necessary. 

“Lilly’s my favorite.” Angelica smiled sadly. “I’m gonna miss her when we leave.”

“Is that why you were crying? Are you guys leaving?”

“No, well… not yet? I don’t know.”

“Do you want to like… vent?” Hailie sat down beside her and Angelica could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

Carlisle’s warnings about the treaty reared their head and his words flashed through her mind. She felt a tug in her stomach, a satisfaction in ignoring him for once. Perhaps this could be a boiling point, a small one that was only for her, but a boiling point nonetheless. 

Angelica’s struggles from the past week began to pour out from her like a flooded fountain as she divulged in her worries and irritations, all while Hailee, who’d been a stranger only a mere five minutes ago, listened with rapt intent. She nodded along, chiming in with the ocassional comment, but for the most part, sat thoughtfully.

“I just feel like no one trusts me,” Angelica continued, halfway through a ramble about Edward's sudden vacation, “I’ve been fine for three hundred years but everyone acts like I’m six or something. ” 

"That sounds shitty.”

“It is shitty!” Angelica exclaimed. “But no one admits it is! And then like the stuff I can do never gets acknowledged. Like I can handle myself around people, but just because Edward couldn’t I’m also on lock down. And he didn’t ask to leave either, he just said he was going to and left but I’m not allowed anywhere without someone with me and even though I didn’t do anything I have to deal with the consequences of his choices. ”

“How is that like even remotely fair?”

“I know right? And you know what like for sure happened?” Angelica scoffed. “He saw a pretty girl and he didn’t know what to do because he’s a 107 year old virgin.”

“No shot that he’s 107 and still got his card.” Hailee scoffed. “I mean like, I always thought he was a bit off. I don’t know.”

“We’re all a ‘bit off’ .” Angelica muttered.

The other girl shrugged. “You seem fine honestly.” 

“I don’t feel fine.”

“I think you’re just feeling human emotions, girl.”

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to be.” Angelica shook her head. 

She kicked at a stray twig, soggy and rotten. It fell apart with the impact. The thunder was drawing closer, and the clouds were growing thicker and darker by the minute. And yet, Angelica didn’t want to leave. 

“Why? Your brain didn’t change right?”

“That’s what I said!”

Hailee shrugged. She fished out a bag of pretzels from her pocket and held it out.

“Want one?”

“I can’t.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Yeah… ‘forgot.”

Angelica smiled sadly.

“It’s nice to talk to someone who knows.” She hummed. “It’s a lot of lying.”

“Yeah I hate lying to Lilly too if it helps.” 

Angelica nodded and for a moment there was silence. It filled the small grove and curled comfortingly around the two girls.

“So why are you here then?” Angelica asked finally. 

Hailee took a dutiful bite of a pretzel, and despite her mouth being closed as she chewed, Angelica could hear the snaps of the brittle treat being crushed up within the girl’s mouth.

 “Bored.” She said simply, shrugging. “My friend Leah is like one of the only girls on the res since my sisters left and she’s obsessed with her boyfriend right now so we barely hang out.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, gross.” “Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t know.” 

“You should hang out with me and Lilly sometime.” Angelica offered. “We have movie nights sometimes with our friend Anna.”

Hailee smiled and Angelica couldn’t help but notice that she had a small dimple beside her left eye. “I think she’d like that.” 

There was a sudden echoing cry as Angelica’s name was thrown out into the forest. Her stomach churned. In the distance, she could hear footsteps approaching, perhaps two minutes away. 

“Fuck.” Angelica sighed. “I should go.” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she jumped to her feet. “It was nice,” She paused, “Meeting you, I guess. Yeah.” 

“I’ll ask Lilly for your number?” “Sounds good.” Angelica looked out into the forest. “I’m gonna meet up with them. I don’t wanna get in more trouble for breaking ‘treaty rules’ or whatever.” Hailee nodded.  She pulled another pretzel out of her bag and with that, they were done.

The branches slapped uselessly against her skin as Angelica raced through the woods, a warmth rising up in her chest as she drew further away from her new friend. It had been so long, too long, since she’d last had someone listen to her so wholly.  It felt good. Just good. No need for synonyms or bells and whistles or clever analogies. Just good. She’d had talks with Lilly and Anna, of course, and there had been times where she’d allowed herself to divulge into fractions of her problems. But it was only ever that, a fraction. She told them what they’d been allowed to know, confining herself within the lines that had been drawn for her.

Angelica was pulled out of her stupor by the sudden force of running into what she’d first assumed was a boulder, the only thing she could think of that would be able to withstand the impact. She stumbled away, confused as to where the rock had come from. 

“Oh thank god.” Rosalie’s voice cried as she stepped out behind the stone, which, upon a second glance, didn’t look like a stone at all but rather a blonde vampiric doctor. Her sister rushed forward, only to come to a sudden stop, her brows furrowing together as her nostrils twitched. The blonde girl looked less put together than usual, her hair frizzed and thrown clumsily in a ponytail. She was wearing a t shirt that was clearly Emmett’s and a pair of flannel pajama pants.

“Where were you?” Carlisle demanded. His eyes flitted across her body, checking for scrapes and bruises she wasn’t even capable of obtaining. He took her right shoulder in an iron vice. The worry in his voice sent a flood of guilt darting through her, and she did her best to ignore it. It was easily suppressed with remembering why she’d felt the need to run off in the first place. 

“On a walk.” Angelica replied stiffly. 

“You stink like a dog.” Rosalie snapped. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously although Angelica was clueless as to what her sister was trying to uncover. 

A dog? 

Angelica rolled her eyes as her father tugged on her arm, pulling her back in the direction of the house. 

“What were you thinking?”  Carlisle pressed. “Everyone’s out looking for you- You can’t just run off whenever you like.”

“I just wanted to clear my mind.” She tried to shrug Carlisle off but his grip was unrelenting. “It felt better than just staying in my room- I just needed some alone time.”

“Well you better get used to ‘just staying in your room’ because that’s where you’ll be spending the next few days.” Carlisle said tightly. 

*** 

Angelica was curled up on her bed, rereading a worn copy of the Great Gatsby when she heard the creak of her door opening. Many of the lines were highlighted in sage green and scribbled annotations dotted the paragraphs. It was her sixth, and final day of isolation, and she was counting down the minutes until she would finally be able to return to class and rejoin civilization. Apparently the new girl Silver moonlight streamed in thinly through the cover of clouds.

Angelica didn’t look up as the familiar sound of Edward’s footsteps approached her.

“Alice said you’d be back today.” Angelica kept her eyes trained on her book. “Carlisle is down the hall, waiting for you.” She flipped a page monotonously. 

Edward frowned at her use of the doctor’s name. 

“Fun week?” He pried dryly and Angelica could feel something within her head, a twinge as he rifled through her thoughts. 

Nosy bastard. 

“Yeah, we were all grounded, it was a blast.” She scoffed.  

Edward rolled his eyes. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, you know.” He sighed.

“Excuse me?” “Esme texted me about it.” Edward shook his head. “You scared her. You can’t just run off like that.”

Angelica set her book down and the highlighter and pen she’d been annotating with slipped soundlessly onto the carpet. She gave a small twirl of her finger and the writing utensils swiftly returned to their spot beside her on the bed. 

“Can you pass me that dictionary?” She asked, pointing at the bookshelf above her desk.

“Why?” “I want to look up the definition of hypocrite, you ass.” 

“I had no choice..” Edward snapped defensively. “The bloodlust just overcame me.” He shook his head. “I had a reason to leave.” He said with such self-importance it made her want to gag. 

“Do you have a reason for being in my room?” Angelica scoffed. 

“I wanted to ask you to apologize to Carlisle for worrying him. I could hear him thinking about it from a mile away. He feels horrible.” “Dude, mind your own business.” 

“It’s hard to do that when you’re disrupting the business of everyone around you.” “I’m disrupting-” She shook her head in disbelief. “My brother in Christ, we had to all go on lockdown because of your little Alaskan vacation!”

Edward shook his head. “Forget it.” He scoffed. “Don’t expect me to drive you to school tomorrow.” 

Angelica bit her tongue, deciding that informing him that his ‘threat’ was actually a massive weight off of her shoulders would only drag out the conversation more. She was so caught up in trying to mask this thought that it took a moment for her to register the word “tomorrow”. 

“You’re going back?” She frowned. “What about your whole-” “Carlisle and Esme trust me.” 

Angelica’s eye twitched and she picked up her book again, waiting for his footsteps to draw further away from her. He took a moment, perhaps taken back by the lack of response before finally making his leave.

Don’t fucking touch her, Ed, because if we have to move early because of this, I’m gonna rip that fucking ‘monster within you’ out of your spine and use your vertebrae as a tooth brush.  Angelica allowed her defenses to fall as she flipped another page, not looking up. 

He frowned. 

“You need to be studied or something.” Edward muttered, shaking his head as he stepped into the doorway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

A/N

Hey guys, in this chapter we are introduced a member of the Quileute (albiet an oc) and I just wanted to take a moment to acknoweldge how innacurately Twilight originally potrayed this tribe. Not only does it twist their stories and culture to suit Stephanie Meyer's needs, but the wolves (and therefore the Quileute) are also often potrayed as wild and "lacking control" (ie what happens to Emily). These ideations are based on racist stereotypes and will not be included in this book (Jacob is still gonna be an asshate, but thats just him being him). I'm gonna link the Quileute website, below ran by the actual community if yall would like to learn more about the real people! While this fic will follow the twilight version of the quilute in terms of story, it will not include the depictions of S. Meyer that reflect some uneducated beliefs and any chapter including them will include a link to the Quileute website.

So glad to finally be introducing Hailee, my baby girl!! I loved writing Angelica for this chapter as well, it's fun to write her acting like a little shit (even if some of it is justified anger).

[cyborg-franky]

“i know you can be louder than that.”

NSFW with buggy please.....?

I love Buggy. I'm rusty at n-s-f-w but imma give it a shot!

N/SFW Buggy x GN reader Kinks include: sex in public/cock warming/ gross misuse of devil fruit abilities Words: 864

You remember the conversation that led to this moment, how you shifted in your seat next to Buggy, face flushed and trying your best to pass it off as just feeling under the weather. Buggy liked to brag and boast about his warlord status, but he despised the boring meetings with the other members, the ones that decided to grace them with their presence anyhow.

He’d bitched and moaned and whined all morning about not wanting to go but you’d leaned against him, pulling him down so you could whisper your filthy, dirty suggestion of how you could make the meeting all that much more fun for him. He’d agreed without even needing a second to contemplate it.

You shifted once more, biting the inside of your cheek as something pulsed inside your core. Buggy sat in his seat, eyes ahead pretending to listen to what was being said but honestly, he was more focused on how his cock felt buried inside your tight walls with no one knowing any better.

Buggy watched you from the corner of his eye, you fidgeted in place trying to get his length deeper, desperate for it to hit that place that gave you wonderful pleasure. He was surprised he was handling this with as much grace as he was, he twitched feeling you clamp down on him tighter, trying to pull him even deeper. You jerked forward a little and everyone’s eyes were on you, you blushed brighter and apologised with a shaky breath. “They don’t look so good…” One of the marines commented and Buggy shrugged. “Is there anything else that involves me, or can I go?” He mumbled, sounding fed up with this formal drivel.

He had a feeling the reason why he had such a high up place in the government was a farse and how him leaving early wouldn’t affect the overall outcome of the stagnant, boring, tiresome meeting he had been forced to endure thus far.

Excusing yourself from the room no one paid you or your captain any mind as you limped out the room after him. You followed Buggy down the hallways, he hadn’t said a word to you until he turned the corner and grabbed you, pushing you up against the wall he smirked. You just gasped looking up at him.

“Did you like that? Basically, getting fucked on your captains cock in front of everyone?” He just laughed at you, you couldn’t help but blush even more, casting your gaze down, feeling ashamed but his words also lit a fire in you, you nodded your head shyly looking up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t pretend your so innocent” Buggy chuckled and grabbed the waistband of your pants aggressively tugged them down around your ankles, pulling one leg free to grasp roughly, Buggy had no elegance, a rough lover but you enjoyed it. You couldn’t help but let a moan slip between your lips, the sound aroused your captain even more and he soon reconnected his body giving a firm thrust up into yours.

“C-capt-aain!” You cried and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, eyes closed, moaning into it as Buggy gave another shunt. Finally, the friction you’d craved since that stuffy meeting began.

“I know you can be louder than that.” You could feel the smirk against your face as he leaned right into you, pressing you against the wall, caging you in, completely at his mercy you wailed into your hand once more when an upwards thrust hit you perfectly, if he hadn’t been the force keeping you standing your knees would have buckled.

He started to speed up, and you got louder even If it was muffled. Buggy laughed and licked from your collarbone all the way up your neck, yanking your hand away his lips captured yours and drank in the pants and moans that spilled so freely from you as his hips rocked harshly against your own.

You felt that familiar coil tighten inside you, the racing of your pulse, your toes starting to curl as the pressure built greater and greater within you. Buggy couldn’t help but chuckle in your ear, muttering obscenities as you clamped down harder on his cock.

“So good for your captain” Oh fuck, the way he moved his hips with each thrust, you cried out, the waves of pleasure hitting you hard, you had to lean forward, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as you moaned into the skin. Your body pulsed around his member, you felt dizzy. He soon came after you, panting as he did, a few more shaky thrusts as he emptied himself into you with a pleased growl.

You blinked when he pulled away but the feeling of being so stuffed with his seed didn’t dissipate. He smirked making sure his cock was still inside as he pulled up your pants and pat your cheek a few times.

“Don’t wanna make a mess on the nice clean floor, right?” If you hadn’t been so utterly spent from being hammered against the wall, you’d have strangled your captain, the smug look on his face, makeup smeared. You could have slapped him.

“Y-you asshole”

[alderaani]

Embers

summary: After Umbara, Boil learns how to endure, and how to reclaim pieces of his brothers marching on | AO3 | series

warnings: canonical character death, grief, animal injury + mentions of animal death (completely not explicit, on the level of canon-typical violence).

a/n: finally another part of my 100 clone prompts - the rest of the series is linked above! i know there’s not much in canon to support Waxer being an animal lover, but i wanted to give Gree a friend to nerd out with and it’s cute. also gotta pay homage to @nibeul’s wonderful art here - while I wasn’t consciously inspired by it, it hits on v similar themes and is just beautiful like...that image of waxer holding up numa lives in my head rent free.

-

Insects swirled in a halo around his helmet. They swarmed around the seams of his blacks, too, attracted to the small beads of sweat there, to the tiny strips of flesh he couldn’t quite cover. The rising bites itched, rubbing where the edge of his vambraces met fabric, and the buzzing was enough to drive a man mad. Boil sighed, brushing them off half-heartedly and watching them billow angrily away. They’d be back. They always were.

In the reprieve, he fumbled at his belt for the viewfinders hooked there and brought them to his visor. As he spun the dial to within half a klik so that he could search the undergrowth, his thumb settled in the comforting groove where Waxer had dropped them and chipped the plastoid. He worried at it with his nail while he scanned, frowning.

It was too still.

Too quiet.

Had been in his head for weeks now, verging on a month, and he was still waiting to feel something other than crippling emptiness. There weren’t any dreams any more, none except for the oldest one they all pretended not to have; levelling a blaster against Kenobi’s head and pulling the trigger. Even that didn’t feel like the nightmare it used to.

Eventually he lowered the viewfinder, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the stifled sound of his own breath in the dense air. A faint, humid breeze stirred the leaves, sending a cloud of thick yellow pollen up towards the canopy. Boil blinked to bring up the filter diagnostic on his HUD, keeping his belly low to the ground to avoid the stuff as it drifted lazily overhead.

“Kid, you doin’ alright out there?”

He listened to the static hum of the comm line for a few moments, biting back the panic that crawled up the back of his throat when it dragged on just a beat too long.

“Apart from gettin’ gnawed on by the bugs? Just grand, Sir.”

Potshot sounded a little winded, but that was probably just the heat. Blacks self-regulated temperature, but only to the extent that they made sure you sweated evenly. It never used to be quite so bad; that had been the one thing Phase 1 armour had going for it, for all it was bulkier and less adaptable to varied terrain. He supposed the Republic had had to cut costs somewhere. Waxer would’ve been whining by now that his ass was so hot they could light a flare off it. Potshot was young enough that he’d never known any different.

“Good, you see anything?” Boil grunted, pinging his location anyway. There was no real reason for it; Potshot might’ve still been green but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d done well to keep up so far. Boil could stand being self aware enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t been the most welcoming, or the most patient with the new partner he’d never wanted. He wouldn’t have had any right to be overbearing now, but it was for his own comfort, however small and bittersweet.

“Nothin’ at all. That seem odd to you too?” Potshot said, as the surveillance holos he’d taken popped up. Boil flipped through them, earmarking a couple to show him how to improve the angle later. The important shit was all there - enough to confirm what he’d already suspected. No birds, no creatures, no fresh droppings.

Just the bugs, and the trees, and them.

“Yeah, it’s odd alright. Think we’ve found what the general’s looking for.”

Boil felt pressure around his right boot and turned, vibroblade in hand, to stab into the fleshy vine knotting round it. It writhed and retreated, leaving behind pitted, smoking trails where acid had started eating into the plastoid. He registered the damage with a dull sort of annoyance. It was something else to take care of later, a way to look busy and shape the silence. It would fend off the others and their offers of company, made out of pity he couldn’t bear to look at.

“Really? What’re you seein’, boss?” Potshot asked.

Boil glanced upwards to track the position of the sun; high, almost directly overhead. At the peak of the day this place should have been teeming. Instead the only tracks he’d found had been baked solid, and this wasn’t the shocked quiet that followed a stampede. It was stagnant, aging.

“This forest is in the centre of an old super-volcanic crater, right?” he asked, not waiting for a response. It had been in the mission dossier, alongside profiles of the flesh eating plants, the deadly pollen and the venomous creatures, all of it fenced into the sloped, unforgiving bowl of the terrain. It was the kind of forest that stuck in the mind. “And we know that something has driven the wildlife away.”

Potshot hummed, the comm muffling for a second as he shifted. It took a moment of bitter disappointment coiling in Boil’s belly for him to realise that he’d been waiting for a sharp quip that wasn’t coming. He swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible to feel so wrongfooted while lying down. If he’d ever find his balance again. If he ever wanted to feel whole now that such a fundamental piece was missing.

Potshot groaned suddenly. “Kriff it, the factories we’re looking for are underground, aren’t they?”

Boil forced a chuckle, choking past the self hatred clawing up through his lungs. The kid deserved better, deserved a superior who didn’t constantly treat him like a ghost.

“That’s it, kid. Just like the simulations, eh?”

Potshot laughed, the easy sound making Boil’s throat seize in longing so strong his teeth ached. Waxer would’ve loved him, and that made it all the worse.

“Hardly. What do we do next?”

“Alright,” Boil said, lifting the viewfinder for one last look at where he could see slight fog rising through the trees. “You get your ass back to forward command and debrief the General, I’m heading in for a closer look.”

“ What? But - Sir! We’re supposed to be working as a team. I can’t leave you -”

“Sometimes working as a team means you do your duty and trust the others to do theirs.” He cut in, keeping his voice steady by force of will. Sometimes, it meant carrying on alone. Boil clipped the viewfinder back into place and prepared to move, even as Potshot continued protesting. Boil didn’t answer for long enough that silence fell on the line.

“...am I not performing to the standard expected, Sir?”

Potshot’s voice was soft, all vulnerable underbelly. Still so shiny, and Boil remembered feeling like that, like there was still a scorecard constantly on his forehead.

“No - kid -” Boil sighed, dropping his head forward. He’d never learned how to be gentle - it hadn’t ever come naturally, and there had been no reason to lose his sharp edges when Waxer had always been there to foil them for him. He felt sharper now than ever, full of shards that didn’t sit right, and fished among the pieces for something his brother might have said. “I trust you to have my back. You’re doing everything right. But...sometimes we’ve gotta think of the mission. We need more proof before we can move in, but the two of us get caught, command loses what we already know.”

“Can’t we just send a comm?” Potshot asked, his voice still tight and hurt sounding and he was fucking this up, shouldn’t have been trusted to try to fix himself without breaking everyone else wide open in the process.

“Don’t trust it not to get intercepted,” Boil said, which was only half a lie, and would have made Cody scoff at the back to front over-caution. “And it don’t all fit in a comm. They’ll need everything you can remember to plan the advance.”

Potshot sighed, but when he spoke again his voice was looser. “...Yes, Sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Boil said, feeling his own chest lighten. “If you don’t hear from me by 1100 then raise me on the priority channel.”

He listened until Potshot had stated a reluctant affirmative and clicked off the line, then bellied out of the undergrowth and headed further in, to the epicentre of the unnatural quiet. He liked the way his mind went silent on recon, how everything else fell away. It wasn’t quite the same, tilted just a little off axis, but similar enough to when it had been Waxer at his six that if he didn’t think about it, he could almost trick himself into believing nothing had changed.

Plus, the space was good, just for a few minutes, where he didn't have to pretend for anyone.

It was a quiet journey, for the most part, punctuated only by the steps he couldn’t quite muffle. His thoughts were broken some time later when he suddenly heard it; the distant mechanical boom of something deep underground. He quickened his pace, following the vibrations until the earth under his feet grew hot, the air shimmering unnaturally in front of him. It had been like this at Point Rain, when the sand baked and glinted, glass-like, under the blaze of the overhead sun. If he hadn’t known the super-volcano was very thoroughly extinct, he could have kidded himself that it was just the geothermal energy of magma moving close to the surface. A clever disguise. But not clever enough.

The ground sloped ever downwards the further into the bowl he got. He watched where he placed his feet as it grew rockier, stones and small craters acting like pitfall traps concealed by the moss. Boil pinged his scanner every minute, searching for Seppie probes as the terrain tapered, falling away into a green-rimmed yawning abyss. Set into the centre of it was a huge grate, the source of the searing air. Here were the factories they’d been looking for, exactly where he’d suspected. It was a muted sort of satisfaction.

He crouched at the edge of the drop, taking holos and transmitting them directly to the Commander’s HUD. Then he checked his chrono and sent an unapologetic follow up that he’d be late to rendezvous, seeing that 1100 was about to come and go. Then he minimised the comms on his HUD to flash for priority only; he’d get bollocked for being late sooner or later, but he figured it would be novel to have it fully in person.

Finally he turned, ready to start the rapid scale back towards the 212th's forward camp, when he registered a low, keening whine.

His blaster was in his hands within a moment, trained at the knee-high leaves. The sound came again, higher this time, followed by laboured panting.

He gently brushed aside some of the foliage with his blaster barrel. Dark eyes stared at him from between the leaves. They both froze. It was some sort of animal, obviously; a mammal, probably a predator. It was small too, with paws too large for its scrawny body and a dark, downy fur that rippled with every laboured breath.

Sharp teeth. A narrow muzzle. A long, whip-like tail.

A vornskr, Boil thought, and hated how readily the identification came, how readily he tensed in anticipation of the inevitable Boil can you see - do you know how rare -

He shook the memories away, of Waxer leaning precariously over the top bunk to wave some manual Commander Gree had sent him in his face, bleating about some animal or species that Boil couldn’t pronounce. In the present the vornskr pup cowered away from him, pushing backwards on thin, spindly legs. Deceptively powerful though, he’d bet.

The creature let out another whine and stumbled, an odd abortive movement. Boil pressed more of the leaves away to get a better look and swore when he saw the brutal metal trap closed around one of its small hind legs, paring down to bone. His blaster was up and trained on the thing before he thought much about it. Better to shoot it, put it out of its misery, than prolong its suffering. It was what they did as part of the cleanup sometimes; wildlife was usually pretty good at getting out of the active battlefronts, but there were always stragglers. The too old or the too young, mostly.

Creatures like this one.

The vornskr stilled, staring at him with those big, wide eyes as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. Boil swallowed. Waxer wouldn’t have let him shoot it. Waxer also wasn’t here now to stop him, but Boil felt his arm lower all the same, just a few inches before he pulled the trigger. The vornskr yelped as the trap hinges came apart in two neat halves and immediately tried to run. It didn’t get very far before it collapsed, panting again.

Boil sighed and shook his head, holstering his blaster across his back.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he tsked, shuffling closer.

He kept half an eye on the tail, remembering something about it being venomous. While being high off his ass on some unknown substance had the potential to make Cody’s dressing down more interesting, it might also kill him before he got there.

The vornskr growled as he leaned over it, baring needle sharp teeth, and made a snap at him when Boil reached out.

“Ah, give over,” he muttered, batting the attempt away. The little body was light in his hands as he lifted it, careful to let the injured leg hang out as he folded it into his chest. The vornskr made an odd, throaty sound and shifted, almost experimental. Then it huffed, and after a pause laid its head across his vambrace.

Boil rolled his eyes at the display, setting off towards forward command as soon as he was halfway sure he wasn’t in danger of losing a finger.

It was...nice, to have that little body cradled to him, reminiscent of better occasions when Waxer just had to stick his nose into every curious happening and inevitably adopted some struggling lifeform. However much Boil had complained, it had never steered them wrong.

When he got back to command it was to find Cody pacing the perimeter, Potshot perched on a crate nearby. The Commander’s bucket was under his arm. Boil winced. With Cody that was never an accident - usually so he could get the full weight of a glare in, the excavating kind he’d learned from Kenobi and then weaponised so that it pierced straight down to bone.

“Boss!” Potshot exclaimed, pushing off his seat. “You made it!”

“What time d’you call this?” Cody demanded, stalking over. “I was about to -”

Cody stopped short, gaze dropping to the furry bundle against Boil’s breastplate. Something in his expression softened and Boil felt in his heart, panicking as a lump rose in his throat.

“What’s that?” Cody asked.

Boil let his gaze slide downwards to a point far beyond, where two troopers were fighting over a tarp.

“Found it in a trap,” he said, his voice ragged. “Couldn’t - couldn’t let it die.”

He flicked his eyes back to Cody’s face and breathed through the grief and understanding he found there. Cody stepped forward and clasped Boil’s elbow.

“I’m sure Tranq will be able to do something for it.” A little upturn crept into the line of Cody’s lips. “Debrief in fifteen.”

Boil nodded and broke away, tipping his head to Potshot before clearing his throat roughly and popping his bucket off one-handed as he made his way to the medtent. The sun was warm on his face here, the air lighter. A butterfly flew lazily past and the vornskr lifted its head, tracking the motion with large, interested eyes.

Boil smiled, hoisting his bucket under one arm and daring to touch the creature's head with his freed hand. It wouldn’t ever bring Waxer back, but it meant something that this little life continued, because of the choices his brother would have made and all that he had been. Like the phantom touch of the sun still lingering in cooling earth.

It wouldn’t ever be enough. But, perhaps, it was just the right amount to cling onto.

-

taglist // @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun @simping-for-fives @iscream4clones @bad-batch-of-fics @battletales @majorshiraharu @dom-i-nic @snippytano @missinashkin @808tsuika @eries45 @lussyyung @whatanoof // join here

[peachyproserpina]

Wickedly Domestic - Roommates and Puppies

Now that I am back on tumblr I figured I might as well upload my John Wick x Fat!OC fic here as well. Maybe I'll find the motivation to write it as well.

TW: Alternate Universe Canon Diverence, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Sex

If I miss anything please let me know!

There is a consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of her roommates bed hitting the wall. Despite a whole floor separating them she could still hear the sounds of her roommate getting fucked into next week, literally. Usually Maria wouldn’t care that her roommates late at night shenanigans would run into the next morning but, there was more at stake on the agenda today than usual. Maria pressed her pillow over her ears and looked at her phone; it was almost 4 am Monday morning.

There was a meeting in downtown New York that she had to attend, which the commute was a little more intense then she usually had to deal with. Living and working in a suburb outside of New York City allowed for a stress and traffic free drive to work, usually 15 minutes or less, but driving into the city always was a hassle, that drive tends to be close to an hour. Maria rubbed at her eyes and unlocked her phone, she still had 3 hours before she had to be downtown. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, this meeting was with the CEO. Those kinds of meetings either ended up in promotion or termination, she buried her face into her pillow. She could still hear the thunk and a few giggles from her roommate and company. Considering she was already up and too anxious to go back to bed she might as well get her workout in now instead of later.

Heaving herself up and out of bed with a groan she let out a yawn before looking around for her workout clothes. Pulling on her leggings and finding a clean shirt she fished around her room for her headphones. Despite living in New York state for a little over 3 months now she still hasn’t completely unpacked. Moving boxes were still stacked around the room and there was a stack of art needing to be hung up.

She wasn’t planning on moving when she did, the roommate who was busy getting fucked, offered her a place to stay. All she had to do was pay utilities and cook for the house once a week. The home had been a surprise to her roommate Cooper. An estranged great Aunt had willed it over to her, Cooper was already living in New York, and the full ride she received was barely enough to cover the dorm she had to split with 2 other people. When she was contacted by lawyers telling her she is now a proud homeowner and didn’t have to worry about student loans for the rest of her life.

One of the first things she did was reach out to Maria. Cooper was well aware of the tension at home, brewing in Maria’s family since they met in high-school. Unfortunately she had first hand seen more tear stained faces and frustration that Maria was put through. They spoke often and were close, promising to push each other to do amazing things. Sometimes amazing things means moving across the country but their love and friendship didn’t diminish over the distance. So offering the room

All Maria had to do was fund the move and drive 30 hours across the country. Dying to get out of the town she has spent her whole life, as well as always loving the east coast, she packed up, put in her two weeks at her current job and submitted an application to anywhere within a 10 mile radius of her new address. She thanked the stars when a local bank picked up her application and allowed for Skype and phone interviews, giving her the job before she even moved out there. She was introduced to her coworkers through a group chat and she fell into her role easily before she even met them in person.

The hardest part had been leaving old friends, leaving her family on the other hand had been a blessing. Her father and his side of the family had always been hard to please and any relationship with them over the last couple of years had been more of a formality than anything else. Her mother was a different story, tears were shed and a few fights were had due to this hasty decision on moving across the country. Maria’s mother had always wanted more for her daughter than what she currently had but packing up and leaving across the country in less than a month gave her mother bad feelings. Her mother backed off and gave Maria her blessing once she got her job, knowing how stubborn her daughter is once she puts her mind to something.

Her siblings had felt the same way, constant calls and texts were exchanged during the long drive while everyone was proud and knew she would be better for the move. It still hurt, promising to visit during holidays and letting them stay over if they ever visited. But it was like ripping off a bandaid. It had to be done or else it festers and could lead to infection, staying stagnant had been driving her crazy.

Once changed and headphones found under some papers she had been reviewing at her desk, she slid them over her ears and made her way upstairs, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind her. Her cat had the habit of running outside and getting lost or turning up at the local shelter and the last thing she needed was to also be worrying about her cat while she was working in the city.

She jogged down to the gate and opened it before she got into her car and made her way to the nature preserve just a few minutes away from her home. She could have ran there but she wasn’t quite ready to commit to the workout while the air was so chilly. By the time she has parked and started her stretches the world had started to wake up around her, birds chirping and the distant sounds of honking while she tried to figure out what playlist she wanted to run to. Deciding on something beat heavy she started down the trail that would lead over the swamp, it had been a while since she had run outside, usually opting to do her cardio in a class setting or on a treadmill while she binges whatever series she is watching on Netflix at the moment.

She was only half a mile in the trail before she had to stop for a moment. Her “ultra support” sports bra did not help as much as she hoped, having big tits was a blessing and a curse. They made working out hell on earth but it got her more free drinks at the bar then she would like to admit. But it also kept her from being able to run as much as she would like to before she has to stop and readjust.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time, quarter past 5 am, she still had time. She could do a mile before she went home and showered and get ready for a grueling day. She paused her music, taking deep breaths before she started up again, she thought she heard rustling behind her. Which despite being close to the city the swamp held more wildlife than she thought it would. She sat and listened, chancing a glance behind her. The sun was nearly up but running by herself in public always put her on edge. There was always the chance of someone grabbing her and doing whatever they would like to her, she shuddered and unlocked her phone, sending her location and a text as to when she would be back to the roommate group chat. Just in case she were to get snatched up at least her roommates would know where she was last.

She started up again, turning her music up all the way to drown out her heavy breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the trail. It wasn’t until she was almost across one of the many bridges in the nature preserve stretching her calf muscles when she felt something warm and slimy against the skin of her leg. She screamed and pulled her head phones off, looking down to see if she had unknowingly picked up a slug or if some creep had managed to sneak up on her. Letting out a sigh when she saw it was a small Beagle, whining and licking at her leg. She crouched down pet the dog who was whining at her feet.

“Hey baby, where are your parents?” She picked up the dog and looked it over, she saw a name tag, “Daisy- that’s a cute name. Matches my tattoo,” she flipped over the name tag and saw an address, thankful she wouldn't have to drop the dog off at home and try to find her owners later. Daisy fell asleep in her arms while she walked the pup back to her car, the thought on finishing her run gone from her mind. Once the dog was rested safely in her front seat and plugged the address into her phone. It was a quick drive back to the owners house thankfully, it was getting dangerously close to 6 am but she couldn’t not take the sleepy baby home.

She knew if her cat went missing longer than usual or her roommates dog she would be worried sick. No parent should be worried about their baby, that was the biggest motivator for her as she snaked through the neighborhood following her GPS until she pulled up to one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. She knew she lived in affluent part of the state but pulling up the gravel driveway of what was basically a mansion she started to sweat. The bouncing of her car woke the puppy up, who was happily wagging her tail, grateful to be home after wandering away in the early morning. Maria smiled, happy that the pup was glad to be home.

“Lets go baby, let's get you back home.” Daisy ran up the door and pawed at it. Maria knocked and waited a moment, when she didn’t hear any movement in the house she rang the doorbell. Daisy was sitting by her feet waiting patiently for the door to open, it felt like hours while she stood in the massive door hoping someone was home to take the pup in. In reality It had probably been only 5 or so minutes, she chanced a glance around the driveway and didn’t see a car. Figuring that whoever would have been home was gone she turned and started walking back to her car, calling for Daisy, she could take her home and try again after work. Knowing her roommates would be sympathetic to the lost puppy and take care of her until she could try again. It was then she heard the large door open. She turned and nearly lost her balance when she caught a glance at the man who opened the door.

[fanyiyimdzs]

Mo Dao Zu Shi: Chapter 2

Masterpost

Previous chapter

Wei Wuxian wanted to wash his face and pay his respects to his body’s former owner, but the room had no water—none for drinking, none for washing. Nothing.

The single bowl, he guessed, was meant for bodily wastes, and thus could not be used for his purposes.

He pushed on the door but found that it had been bolted shut, presumably because the family feared Mo Xuanyu would go outside and cause trouble.

There wasn’t a single thing about this situation that allowed him to feel the joy of rebirth!

He figured he might as well meditate for a while and get used to his body. When he opened his eyes again, a whole day had passed, and sunlight was leaking through the cracks between the door and the walls, and through the slits in the windows. Though he could now stand and walk around, he was still lightheaded, and his eyes were still blurry—hardly better than yesterday. Something was odd. “This Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation is so weak that his spiritual energy can be ignored, but there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to control his body. Why can’t I do anything?”

It wasn’t until his stomach let out a loud growl that he realized the problem had nothing to do with Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation, and everything to do with the fact that he was extremely hungry and his new body was not used to fasting. He needed to look for food soon, or else he was at risk of becoming the first demonic spirit to take over a new body only to starve to death.

Gathering his energy, Wei Wuxian lifted his foot and prepared to bust down the door. But suddenly he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and then of someone kicking the door and irritatedly shouting, “It’s time to eat!”

The door did not open despite the yelling. Lowering his head, Wei Wuxian glanced towards it and found that a smaller door had been built at the bottom of the wooden board. It was through this door his bowl of food passed.

“Faster!” the servant outside said. “Why are you taking so long? Pass the bowl back when you’re done!”

The little door was too small for even a dog to pass through, let alone a human, though it was adequate for the bowl. Wei Wuxian’s rations (it looked too unappetizing to be deemed “food”) consisted of two types of vegetables atop steamed rice. He mixed them around with the chopsticks stuck in the rice, feeling a little sorry for himself.

The Old Master of Yiling had only just returned to the world of the living, and all he had been met with was a kick to the chest and a raging temper tantrum. Now, he had nothing more than these cold, slimy leftovers for his first meal. Where were the foul winds and blood rains? The slaughter which spared not even the dogs and chickens? The extinctions? If he told someone he was back, who would believe him? At present, he was like a tiger being bullied by a dog on the plain, or a dragon by shrimp in shallow water. If you plucked the feathers of a phoenix, was it even worth as much as a hen?

Outside, the servant shouted again, but this time he also giggled as though he’d been body-swapped. “Ah-ding! Come over here!”

A girl’s voice, crisp and sassy, replied from a distance. “Ah-tong, delivering food to the one in there again?”

“Pah! Why else would I be in this wretched courtyard?” Ah-tong replied.

Ah-ding’s voice approached the door. “Your only job is to deliver him food. No one says anything if you just loaf around the rest of the time, and you’re still complaining about the courtyard? Look at me! I have so much work I can’t even step outside the house.”

“I don’t just deliver food!” he whined. “Do you even have the guts to go out these days? There’s so many walking corpses everyone’s bolted their doors shut.”

Wei Wuxian squatted and leaned on the door, shoveling rice into his mouth with mismatched chopsticks, listening closely.

It seemed like things were not quite tranquil at Mo Manor. Walking corpses were the bodies of dead people, reanimated. They were common and relatively weak, possessing dull, stagnant eyes and a lumbering, sluggish gait. Though they weren’t particularly powerful or dangerous, they were strong enough to scare ordinary people stiff. A single whiff of their putrefying flesh was enough to make most vomit the entire contents of their stomachs.

But as far as Wei Wuxian was concerned, walking corpses were the easiest to order around, and the most obedient puppets. Hearing so suddenly of them, he almost felt a burst of affection.

“If you want to go out,” Ah-tong said, the wink practically visible in his voice, “you could bring me and I could protect you.”

“You? Protect me?” Ah-ding replied. “Please, don’t boast. Could you really beat those things?”

“If I can’t fight them off, no one else can either,” Ah-tong huffed.

“How do you know?” She laughed. “You know, a bunch of cultivators came here today. I heard that they’re from an amazing and prestigious clan! Lady Mo is in the main hall speaking to them right now, and everyone in town has come to watch. Can’t you hear all the noise? I don’t have time to fool around with you, they might need me soon.”

Wei Wuxian listened carefully. The sound of hubbub could indeed be heard coming from the east. He pondered for a minute, rose, and launched a hard kick at the door. The bolt cracked and split.

The two servants were right in the middle of giggling and making eyes at each other when the door flung open. They screeched as though a bomb had gone off in their faces.

Wei Wuxian tossed his bowl and chopsticks on the ground and sauntered outside without acknowledging them. The sun stung his eyes so harshly that he couldn’t pry open his eyelids, and even his skin felt singed by the sun’s glare. To let his eyes adjust, he raised his hand above his eyebrows to block out the rays.

Ah-tong’s scream had been even shriller than Ah-ding’s, but once he saw the lunatic everyone bullied and composed himself, his courage ballooned. Attempting to redeem himself from his embarrassing behavior, he bounded towards Wei Wuxian, waving his hand and scolding the Old Yiling Master in the same tone he scolded dogs.

“Go! Go! Go back! Why are you out here?”

Most of the time, this was how the servants behaved toward Mo Xuanyu. Even beggars and insects were treated better than he was. Since he never fought back, they felt free to run rampant.

But Wei Wuxian lightly kicked Ah-Tong, sending him tumbling. “Are you really trying to bully me?” he said, laughing.

He continued on in the direction of the clamor. Surrounding the building were a number of spectators, gathered both in and outside the eastern hall of the eastern courtyard. Inside, one woman’s head stuck out above the rest of the crowd. As soon as Wei Wuxian stepped foot into the courtyard, he heard her voice.

“...One of the junior members of our household was also a cultivator, you see...”

This had to be Lady Mo, trying every means possible to create a connection between a cultivation clan and her family, as usual. In no mind to wait for her to finish, he squeezed through the sea of people and rushed into the hall, waving his hands wildly. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Here, here!”

In the middle of the hall sat a middle aged woman of good complexion, wearing very fine clothing—Lady Mo. Beneath her sat her husband, who had married into her family and thus had lower status than his wife. Across from the couple sat several youths clad in white, bearing swords on their backs.

All noise abruptly died as the disheveled, clown-faced maniac burst through the crowd. As though completely oblivious to the atmosphere, Wei Wuxian hollered, “Who was calling for me just now? I’m the junior cultivator!”

The powder caked on his face cracked as he smiled, cascading to the ground in streams of white and red. One of the white-clad youths made a choking noise and looked dangerously close to bursting into laughter. The youth beside him, seemingly the leader of group, shot him a disapproving glance. He quickly sobered.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze swept through the crowd to the source of the noise. Originally, he had thought that the “amazing and prestigious clan” was merely the exaggeration of a naive servant, but to his shock, he was quite mistaken. Who knew that that the junior cultivators who had shown up at the Mo family’s doors really were from a prominent clan?

They wore robes that were light and graceful like the breeze and beautiful like the morning frost, and their sleeves and sashes seemed to float and glide with their every movement. Their bearing was refined and upright, and their countenance pleasing to the eye. A single glance was enough to know they were from the Gusu Lan Clan. Some were even juniors of House Lan itself—they bore around their foreheads their house’s characteristic white ribbons, as wide as a finger and embroidered with cirrus clouds.

The Gusu Lan Clan’s motto was “righteousness,” the forehead ribbon signified self-rule, and cirrus clouds were its house emblem—the Clan’s guest cultivators or others from outside the family could not wear them. Just looking at members of the House Lan made Wei Wuxian’s teeth ache. In his past life, he had often called the Lan clan uniforms “mourning clothes.” He could never mistake them.

Lady Mo had not seen her nephew for a long time and took a very long time to recover from the shock of seeing him now. Once she recognized who the man wearing the thick, gaudy, hideous makeup was, rage flared in her heart. But in the present circumstances, she couldn’t lash out. 

Suppressing the bile in her throat, she said to her husband, “Who let him out? Put him back!”

Her husband smiled obsequiously and rose. With a face cast in shadow, he stepped toward Wei Wuxian and prepared to haul him out, only for the clown-faced maniac to suddenly throw himself onto the floor. All four of his limbs clinging firmly to the ground, Wei Wuxian defied Husband Mo’s attempts to drag him outside. Even when several servants were called over to help, he still refused to budge. The family would have long started to beat him, if it weren’t for the presence of guests.

Lady Mo’s expression grew more sour and angry every moment, while Husband Mo’s face was covered in a sticky layer of sweat. “You stupid lunatic!” he roared. “If you don’t leave this instant, I will deal with you, and it will be ugly!”

While everyone knew that the Mo family had a young master who had been driven mad, Mo Xuanyu had been hidden away in his dark room for many years now, too frightened to stick his head out for fear of encountering another living soul. To see him in public, both looking and acting like some kind of ghost or demon—whispers immediately began to swirl around both the hall and the courtyard. This was the show everyone wanted to see.

“If you want me to go, that’s fine,” Wei Wuxian said before pointing at Mo Ziyuan. “But tell him to give back the things he stole first!”

Mo Ziyuan would never in a million years have suspected that this lunatic could have so much nerve. It was only yesterday he had taught his cousin a lesson, yet today that sad sack still had the guts to show his face here? “Stop talking nonsense!” he said, his complexion turning red, then white, then red again. “Since when have I stolen anything? Why would I need to steal from you?”

“That’s right!” Wei Wuxian said. “You didn’t steal from me, you robbed me!”

This time, Lady Mo realized what was occurring. Mo Xuanyu had come prepared. He wasn’t insane, his mind was clear as could be, and he was here for one purpose: to humiliate them. Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst into stunned fury. “You intentionally came here to cause trouble, didn’t you?!”

“He stole my things!” Wei Wuxian replied. “I’m here to ask for them back, that still counts as causing trouble?”

Before Lady Mo could answer, Mo Ziyuan, too anxious to control himself, lifted his foot and prepared to launch a kick at his cousin. But one of the sword-bearing, white-clad youths made a slight motion with his finger, sending him off balance and his foot flying towards empty space. While he tumbled to the ground, Wei Wuxian rolled over as though his cousin’s kick had connected. He tore open the front of his robe, revealing the foot-shaped bruise in the exact center of his chest, planted by Mo Ziyuan in yesterday’s assault.

The villagers salivated as they observed the drama, excited beyond measure. After all, Mo Xuanyu could hardly have kicked himself! At the end of the day, he was still the Mo family’s blood relative—how cruel were they? When Mo Xuanyu had first come home, he clearly hadn’t been as insane as he was now, so there was a four out of five chance it had been caused by the Mo’s’ mistreatment! The more they oppressed him, the crazier he got!

Whatever the truth was, as long as there was commotion, the villagers were happy. It wasn’t as though the Mo’s could abuse them. This display was far more interesting than the arrival of the cultivators!

With so many pairs of eyes fixed upon her, unable to hit Mo Xuanyu or throw him out, Lady Mo could only march around the hall, holding her resentment and anger within her throat as though holding her breath.

Lightly, she said, “What theft? What robbery? There’s no need to use such ugly words. We’re family. Ah-yuan was just borrowing, that’s all. He’s basically your little brother. If he takes a few things, is it such a big problem? As the older brother, should you really be so stingy? It’s embarrassing to have a childish temper tantrum over such small things—it’s not as though he won’t return them to you.”

The white-clad youths exchanged helpless glances. One of the youths, in the middle of drinking tea, nearly choked. The juniors of the Gusu Lan Clan had spent their lives in the mountains, exposed to only the snow, the moon, the flowers, and the wind. They had probably never seen this kind of farce, or heard this type of “wisdom.” Unfortunately, it seemed that they would grow a little more worldly today.

Laughing hysterically inside, Wei Wuxian stuck his hand out and said, “Then return my things to me.”

Of course, Mo Ziyuan wouldn’t have been able to return Mo Xuanyu’s things even if he had wanted to. He had long since thrown them away or taken them apart.

“Mom!” he cried. His face was now a shade somewhere between grey and green, and his expression clearly said, “You’re just letting this person humiliate me?”

Lady Mo glowered at her son, beseeching him not to make an even bigger scene. But no one anticipated what Wei Wuxian said next.

“To be completely honest, he not only shouldn’t have stolen my things, he really shouldn’t have stolen them in the middle of the night. Everyone knows that I like men. Even I know it looks suspicious for him to sneak into my room so late, but he doesn’t even know to be embarrassed.”

The shock left Lady Mo gasping for breath. “How dare you say those things, especially in front of the villagers!” she shrieked, “Don’t you feel ashamed? Ah-yuan is your cousin!”

When it came to wild, outrageous behavior, Wei Wuxian was the best of the best. In his previous life, there were certain limits on how far he could take his misbehavior without bringing shame upon his house teachings. But today, he was supposed to be a lunatic anyway—who cared about pride and reputation? The more outrageous he acted, the better. Whatever he wanted to do, he’d do it.

Straightening himself and speaking as though embodying the voice of justice, he declared, “He knows he’s my cousin but he still doesn’t try to avoid suspicion! Exactly who’s the one who should be ashamed?! If he doesn’t care about his reputation, fine, but don’t soil my innocence! I still want to find a good man some day!”

Mo Ziyuan howled. He picked up a chair and swung it violently. To avoid the explosion of temper, Wei Wuxian rolled away, scrambled up, and hid. The chair struck the floor, splintering and sending chunks of wood ricocheting skywards. The rows and rows of spectators inside and outside the eastern hall, who had been delighting in the disastrous spectacle of the Mo family’s utter humiliation, scattered like birds when the smashing started, afraid of falling victim to mis-aimed strikes and flying debris. Wei Wuxian scrambled towards the Lan juniors, who watched the scene in a daze.

He ducked behind them and noisily said, “You saw it, right? Right? Not only does he steal, he beats people! What a cruel, heartless person!

Mo Ziyuan chased after Wei Wuxian for another swing, but was blocked by the Lan group’s leader. “Young master...please, let’s resolve this using words.”

Observing that the youth was attempting to protect the lunatic and afraid of the consequences of angering his clan, Lady Mo plastered on a fake smile. “This is my younger sister’s son. He has some problems, ah, up there. Everyone in this household knows that he’s insane—if he says some odd things, you shouldn’t take him seriously. Cultivators, please don’t—”

Before she could finish, Wei Wuxian popped his head out from behind the youth’s back. “Who says not to take my words seriously? If anyone dares to steal my things from now on, just try me! Steal from me and I’ll chop your arm off!”

Though Mo Ziyuan was now held down by his father, as soon as he heard those words, his rage flared again and he was in danger of breaking free. Like a fish leaping out of the water, Wei Wuxian jumped out, then swam away through the exit.

The youth, now blocking the door, decided that changing the topic was perhaps the best course of action. He put on a solemn face. “So...so tonight we will borrow your western courtyard. As I said previously, please remember to close your doors and windows tightly, and not to come outside after dusk, especially near the courtyard. You must obey our instructions for everyone’s safety.” 

Lady Mo was shaking with apoplexy, but as she couldn’t push the youth out of the way and chase after her nephew, she could only say, “Fine, fine. Sorry to trouble you with this matter.”

“Mom!” Mo Ziyuan said in disbelief. “That lunatic slandered and humiliated me in front of everyone! And you’re just letting him go?! You said once, you said that he was nothing more than a—“

Lady Mo inhaled sharply. “Shut up. If you have something to say you can hold it for later!”

Mo Ziyuan had never been forced to live through this kind of ordeal, or faced this kind of disgrace. He especially had never been so harshly reprimanded by his mother. Heart burning with hatred and rage, he roared, “That lunatic is dead tonight!”

After Wei Wuxian had finished being insane and exited the hall, he took a stroll around the surrounding village, leaving an innumerable quantity of stunned passers-by in his wake. Finding the situation immensely funny, he began to appreciate the delights of lunacy. He even started to approve of his hanged-ghost makeup and was somewhat reluctant to part with it.

“There’s no water, so I can’t wash it off anyway,” he thought to himself. He fixed his hair and glanced at his wrists, but his injuries showed no signs of improvement, or even change. In other words, embarrassing the Mo’s—a light, petty revenge—was nowhere near enough.

Did Mo Xuanyu really want him to slaughter his entire family?

To be honest, it wasn’t as though it was difficult.

Wei Wuxian pondered this question while walking back to the house. He pranced by the western courtyard and saw some Lan juniors standing atop the roofs and walls, discussing something with very serious looks on their faces. He pranced back to them, raised his head, and gazed at them, a strange mix of feelings in his heart.

Even though the Gusu Lan Clan was a major participant in the siege of, well, him, these juniors hadn’t been born yet when that had happened, or they had only been a few years old. It had nothing to do with them.

As he continued observing their preparations for the night, he suddenly realized that something seemed odd.

Why did the black flags fluttering in the wind atop the roofs and walls look so familiar?

The black flags were a type of flag called a “yin summoning flag.” If stuck on a living person, it attracted all the dark spirits, vengeful ghosts, fierce corpses, and evil demons within a certain radius and caused them to attack only the flag-bearer. Because the flag-bearer acted as living bait, effectively drawing a big target on themselves, the flag was also called a “target flag.” They could also be stuck on buildings, but the buildings were required to have living people in them, and everyone inside was susceptible to being attacked. Wherever the flag was stuck, yin energy would begin swirling around the area, as though it had been engulfed in a slow, black whirlwind. Thus, the flag was also known as a “black wind flag.”

The reason the youths would not allow others to come near as they were setting up their flag array must have been because they wanted to draw in and capture all the walking corpses in one fell swoop.

As for why the flags looked familiar...how couldn’t they? The inventor of the yin summoning flag was the Old Master of Yiling himself! It seemed that though all the cultivation houses had furiously called for his head, they had no qualms about using the things he’d invented...

One of the juniors standing atop nearby eaves spotted Wei Wuxian. “You should go back, this isn’t somewhere you should be,” he said.

Though the he was trying to get rid of Wei Wuxian, the youth had good intentions, and spoke in a tone entirely unlike the tone the servants had taken earlier. But Wei Wuxian, who had other plans, hopped up and plucked one of the flags, catching the youth off guard.

That junior jumped off the wall and darted after him, still slightly in shock. “Don’t mess around! These things shouldn’t be played with!” 

Wei Wuxian, face smeared with powder, hair flying everywhere, hands and feet dancing with glee, looked, of course, completely insane. As he ran, he shouted, “No! No take-backsies! I want one! It’s mine!”

In two steps the junior caught up  and pulled on Wei Wuxian’s arm. “Are you going to give it back? If you don’t, I’ll—I’ll hit you!”

Wei Wuxian hugged the flag so tightly no one could have pried it from his cold, dead hands. Alarmed by what was passing, the leader of the Lan juniors, originally busy with overseeing the construction of the flag formation, floated down from the eaves.

He approached them. “Jingyi, it’s alright, please just get it back from him nicely. There’s no need to quarrel.”

“It’s not like I actually hit him, Sizhui!,” Lan Jingyi said. “Just look at him. He ruined our flag formation!”

Making good use of the two Lans’ brief lapse of attention, Wei Wuxian had already finished inspecting the yin summoning flag in his hands. The marks were drawn correctly, and no words were missing from the spell—in short, there was nothing wrong with it, and it would function correctly when used. However, the one who had drawn it was still inexperienced, so the flag could only attract evil spirits and walking corpses from no more than two and a half kilometers away. But it was good enough.

With a smile hinting at his lips, Lan Sizhui said, “Young Master Mo, it’s almost dark. We’ll need to start catching walking corpses soon. It’ll be dangerous tonight, so it would be better if you returned to your room.”

Wei Wuxian gave this youth a once-over. His demeanor was gentle, refined, and graceful, and the corners of his mouth were lightly upturned, as though they constantly held a slight grin. The flag formation he had overseen was impeccable, and his upbringing was not so bad either. In short, he was a highly commendable young man, and in his heart, Wei Wuxian approved of him, though it amazed him that even in a frightening place filled with uptight fuddy-duddies like the Gusu Lan Clan, there was someone who could bring up such a splendid young man.

Lan Sizhui spoke again. “This flag—”

Without waiting for him to finish, Wei Wuxian threw the flag on the ground. “Hmph. It’s only a dumb flag. What’s so great about it? I can draw one way better!”

As soon as he finished, he picked up his legs and ran. Several youths resting on the rooftops saw the commotion, heard the shameless boasting, and began laughing so hard they were in danger of slipping off of the roofs and tumbling to the ground. Irritated, Lan Jingyi also began snickering. He picked up the flag and patted off the dirt. “That man really is a lunatic!”

“Let’s not speak that way,” Lan Sizhui said. “We should return quickly and help finish up.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t return to Mo Xuanyu’s small courtyard until the sun had set, choosing instead  to loaf around the house a few times. When he did return, he saw that no one had bothered to clean up the mess that was Mo Xuanyu’s room. The latch on his door was still broken, and the floor was still covered with debris. Deciding he’d rather not look at the ugly sight, he cleared an empty patch on the ground, sat down, closed his eyes, and went back to meditating.

Who knew that long before sunrise, he would be pulled out of his reverie by a loud commotion outside his door.

Frantic footsteps mixed with the sound of sobbing and sharp cries of alarm, rapidly approaching him. Wei Wuxian heard a few phrases repeated several times. “Rush in and pull him out!” “Go tell the officials!” “Tell what officials? Cover his head and beat him to death!”

He opened his eyes just as several servants charged inside. The entire courtyard was lit brightly by flame.

“Drag this murderous lunatic to the main hall and let him pay with his life!” someone screamed.

Next chapter

Masterpost

[flerghwrites]

Wickedly Domestic

Hello! 

Welcome to the John Wick/OC fanfic I’ve been working on for months. This is a slowburn with eventual smut. So we will get there.  

                                                            -

There is a consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of her roommates bed hitting the wall. Despite a whole floor separating them she could still hear the sounds of her roommate getting fucked into next week, literally. Usually Maria wouldn’t care that her roommates late at night shenanigans would run into the next morning but, there was more at stake on the agenda today than usual. Maria pressed her pillow over her ears and looked at her phone; it was almost 4 am Monday morning.

There was a meeting in downtown New York that she had to attend, which the commute was a little more intense then she usually had to deal with. Living and working in a suburb outside of New York City allowed for a stress and traffic free drive to work, usually 15 minutes or less, but driving into the city always was a hassle, that drive tends to be close to an hour. Maria rubbed at her eyes and unlocked her phone, she still had 3 hours before she had to be downtown. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, this meeting was with the CEO. Those kinds of meetings either ended up in promotion or termination, she buried her face into her pillow. She could still hear the thunk and a few giggles from her roommate and company. Considering she was already up and too anxious to go back to bed she might as well get her workout in now instead of later.

Heaving herself up and out of bed with a groan she let out a yawn before looking around for her workout clothes. Pulling on her leggings and finding a clean shirt she fished around her room for her headphones. Despite living in New York state for a little over 3 months now she still hasn’t completely unpacked. Moving boxes were still stacked around the room and there was a stack of art needing to be hung up.

She wasn’t planning on moving when she did, the roommate who was busy getting fucked, offered her a place to stay. All she had to do was pay utilities and cook for the house once a week. The home had been a surprise to her roommate Cooper. An estranged great Aunt had willed it over to her, Cooper was already living in New York, and the full ride she received was barely enough to cover the dorm she had to split with 2 other people. When she was contacted by lawyers telling her she is now a proud homeowner and didn’t have to worry about student loans for the rest of her life.

One of the first things she did was reach out to Maria. Cooper was well aware of the tension at home, brewing in Maria’s family since they met in high-school. Unfortunately she had first hand seen more tear stained faces and frustration that Maria was put through. They spoke often and were close, promising to push each other to do amazing things. Sometimes amazing things means moving across the country but their love and friendship didn’t diminish over the distance. So offering the room

All Maria had to do was fund the move and drive 30 hours across the country. Dying to get out of the town she has spent her whole life, as well as always loving the east coast, she packed up, put in her two weeks at her current job and submitted an application to anywhere within a 10 mile radius of her new address. She thanked the stars when a local bank picked up her application and allowed for Skype and phone interviews, giving her the job before she even moved out there. She was introduced to her coworkers through a group chat and she fell into her role easily before she even met them in person.

The hardest part had been leaving old friends, leaving her family on the other hand had been a blessing. Her father and his side of the family had always been hard to please and any relationship with them over the last couple of years had been more of a formality than anything else. Her mother was a different story, tears were shed and a few fights were had due to this hasty decision on moving across the country. Maria’s mother had always wanted more for her daughter than what she currently had but packing up and leaving across the country in less than a month gave her mother bad feelings. Her mother backed off and gave Maria her blessing once she got her job, knowing how stubborn her daughter is once she puts her mind to something.

Her siblings had felt the same way, constant calls and texts were exchanged during the long drive while everyone was proud and knew she would be better for the move. It still hurt, promising to visit during holidays and letting them stay over if they ever visited. But it was like ripping off a bandaid. It had to be done or else it festers and could lead to infection, staying stagnant had been driving her crazy.

Once changed and headphones found under some papers she had been reviewing at her desk, she slid them over her ears and made her way upstairs, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind her. Her cat had the habit of running outside and getting lost or turning up at the local shelter and the last thing she needed was to also be worrying about her cat while she was working in the city.

She jogged down to the gate and opened it before she got into her car and made her way to the nature preserve just a few minutes away from her home. She could have ran there but she wasn’t quite ready to commit to the workout while the air was so chilly. By the time she has parked and started her stretches the world had started to wake up around her, birds chirping and the distant sounds of honking while she tried to figure out what playlist she wanted to run to. Deciding on something beat heavy she started down the trail that would lead over the swamp, it had been a while since she had run outside, usually opting to do her cardio in a class setting or on a treadmill while she binges whatever series she is watching on Netflix at the moment.

She was only half a mile in the trail before she had to stop for a moment. Her “ultra support” sports bra did not help as much as she hoped, having big tits was a blessing and a curse. They made working out hell on earth but it got her more free drinks at the bar then she would like to admit. But it also kept her from being able to run as much as she would like to before she has to stop and readjust.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time, quarter past 5 am, she still had time. She could do a mile before she went home and showered and get ready for a grueling day. She paused her music, taking deep breaths before she started up again, she thought she heard rustling behind her. Which despite being close to the city the swamp held more wildlife than she thought it would. She sat and listened, chancing a glance behind her. The sun was nearly up but running by herself in public always put her on edge. There was always the chance of someone grabbing her and doing whatever they would like to her, she shuddered and unlocked her phone, sending her location and a text as to when she would be back to the roommate group chat. Just in case she were to get snatched up at least her roommates would know where she was last.

She started up again, turning her music up all the way to drown out her heavy breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the trail. It wasn’t until she was almost across one of the many bridges in the nature preserve stretching her calf muscles when she felt something warm and slimy against the skin of her leg. She screamed and pulled her head phones off, looking down to see if she had unknowingly picked up a slug or if some creep had managed to sneak up on her. Letting out a sigh when she saw it was a small Beagle, whining and licking at her leg. She crouched down pet the dog who was whining at her feet.

“Hey baby, where are your parents?” She picked up the dog and looked it over, she saw a name tag, “Daisy- that’s a cute name. Matches my tattoo,” she flipped over the name tag and saw an address, thankful she wouldn't have to drop the dog off at home and try to find her owners later. Daisy fell asleep in her arms while she walked the pup back to her car, the thought on finishing her run gone from her mind. Once the dog was rested safely in her front seat and plugged the address into her phone. It was a quick drive back to the owners house thankfully, it was getting dangerously close to 6 am but she couldn’t not take the sleepy baby home.

She knew if her cat went missing longer than usual or her roommates dog she would be worried sick. No parent should be worried about their baby, that was the biggest motivator for her as she snaked through the neighborhood following her GPS until she pulled up to one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. She knew she lived in affluent part of the state but pulling up the gravel driveway of what was basically a mansion she started to sweat. The bouncing of her car woke the puppy up, who was happily wagging her tail, grateful to be home after wandering away in the early morning. Maria smiled, happy that the pup was glad to be home.

“Lets go baby, let's get you back home.” Daisy ran up the door and pawed at it. Maria knocked and waited a moment, when she didn’t hear any movement in the house she rang the doorbell. Daisy was sitting by her feet waiting patiently for the door to open, it felt like hours while she stood in the massive door hoping someone was home to take the pup in. In reality It had probably been only 5 or so minutes, she chanced a glance around the driveway and didn’t see a car. Figuring that whoever would have been home was gone she turned and started walking back to her car, calling for Daisy, she could take her home and try again after work. Knowing her roommates would be sympathetic to the lost puppy and take care of her until she could try again. It was then she heard the large door open. She turned and nearly lost her balance when she caught a glance at the man who opened the door.

[megagingertron]

My @furubasecretsanta gift for @dutiifully!!

Title: Put a Little Love on Me

Pairings: Mayu x Shigure, One sided Mayu x Hatori, hinted Mayu x Hatori

Words: 5.5k

A/N: Timeline? What’s a timeline? This is somewhat canon compliant, but strays in some places. Basically a character study of Mayu and filling in the blanks the manga didn’t cover. Had to dig deep down to write about characters I don’t think about often and it was a great challenge that I really enjoyed!

I really hope you like it! :D

Title from Niall Horan’s Put a Little Love on Me

Mayu decides from the very beginning that she’s not going to put too much stock into someone like Shigure. She decides this as her eyes meet his and he cocks his head to the side, a slight bend to his waist as he bows. There’s a slant to his smile and a turn to his chin that displays a small portion of the underside. She grabs onto her will to not visibly sneer at the insincerity in his posture and snarky expression, one side of his hips higher with his hand placed on it. Kana had given Mayu what she can now see was a sugar coated, pillowed warning of Shigure’s nature, one that raised an eyebrow but didn’t think it was anything that would get the best of her.

It doesn’t take long for him to challenge that. She catches on quick enough to Shigure and how he speaks to others. He likes to stick in subtle pokes at people—a comment about their opinion or about their personality right in front of their face, but to some disguised enough to be overlooked. She calls him out on it, one of the few who doesn’t let Shigure get away with saying whatever he pleases, Hatori surprisingly complicit with his comments, and their other friend Ayame too much of a lover of chaos to stop it.

Even then, sometimes she is bitterly reminded of his lack of boundaries.

“Ah, Mayu-chan.” They sit outside of Kana’s house. It’s late in the evening, the slow stagnant heat of the day bleeding into a comfortable cool. They each have a lit cigarette in their mouth, the soft orange of the embers rising and falling with each inhale. “How do you feel about love?”

Mayu raises an eyebrow, the question fitting oddly between them.

“Love? Like between partners and family? Friends?” She asks.

“Sure,” Shigure says. “Anyway you want to view it.”

Mayu blinks down at the cigarette in her hands. As she’s beginning to find out, love is complicated in all its facets. Her mother’s dogmatic whining about needing to find a husband was out of love, for love, but her nerves could only take so much and the question loomed over her head. It was all too persistent when her mother asked for her help at the bookstore, which was often during the summer months. She endured it, though, believing helping her mother was more important than her comfort on the matter. Meeting Kana gave her another sense of love, feeling protective and affection for someone who she wanted the best for. She found a friend who she melded with on the same level. They had the same drive and looked for the fun and absurd where they could. She always figured one day they would meet a man, but it was never going to be a problem. Not like this anyway…

“Regardless, I think it can be powerful. It makes you the happiest you’ve ever been, like a high that doesn’t fade. But it can also make you the most miserable you’ve ever been, or the most jealous, the most mad. All of that stems from love, even it’s hurtful.”

“Astute observation, Mayu-chan.” Shigure looks pleased with himself for some reason. “I completely agree with you. Love does make you do foolish things for its sake. How about for yourself?”

“What about myself?” Mayu’s finger flicks at the burning cigarette in repeated motions. Talking about foolish feelings of love stirs a suppressed, more recent emotion that conflicted within her, thoughts acerbic as they rallied back and forth. The want to be selfish and the resulting guilt didn’t settle well and only served to polarize her already disquiet thoughts. Stuffing that feeling into nothingness had become habit, but she can’t say it’s benefited the level of love she has for herself. Not when looking at Kana and Hatori felt like a searing knife in her chest, her fantasies her only reprieve.

Shigure never responds, letting her sort through her thoughts, seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil. She snubs out her cigarette in the ashtray placed between them. Shigure’s continues to hang off his lip, arms crossed comfortably as the silence stretched on. He breaks it.

“You should love yourself.” He injects. “What’s the point of any of this,” he gestures with arms, “if we can’t love ourselves. What a sad life.”

“That can’t be helped. Not everyone’s dealt the same cards.” Mayu says. She wishes she’d brought out her whole pack of cigarettes. “How someone views themselves is objective. Whether it’s based on life experience or you just think of yourself that way. It’s not always easy to pinpoint and sometimes you need someone else pointing things out for you.”

“So do you love yourself?”

“Yes, I do.”

She responds quickly enough even she believes her answer for a second. Shigure just ends up humming in response. “How is such a thoughtful woman such as yourself unable to find a man? Surely men ask you out.”

It’s not what she expects. The scoff Mayu releases resembles more of hack, turning to Shigure in incredulity.

“Mm what? I’m just saying. You have the brains, looks. Your frame is slight, but that can be overlooked.”

A rapid burst of heat rises to Mayu’s face, mortified and livid at the same time. “Yeah, because you have such a great personality yourself.” With a huff she stands from her sitting position on the engawa and steps towards the closed shoji.

“I never said I wanted a great personality,” Shigure says. It takes all of Mayu’s will power not to open and slam the shoji shut with all her might. Kana’s house doesn’t deserve her ire. Shigure certainly does, but his tactless comment had taken any words from her mouth without regret, leaving her running away from him. What a bastard. Talking and having an actual conversation had put Shigure in a more thoughtful light, one she wondered if he just hid away until he felt like revealing it, then promptly shattered the illusion by making some wayward dig at her body and single status. His rottenness could peel paint.

She walks into the kitchen where Kana and Hatori are bent over a cookbook, both with their sleeves rolled up and wearing aprons. It’s a cute sight to see them corresponding over how to make dinner, but there’s always a twinge of longing that comes with it.

Hatori sees her first, nodding his head in greeting. “Shigure still out there?”

Mayu tries not rolling her eyes, having for a single second forgotten about that guy and his unhinged mouth. “Oh, yeah.”

“Oh. Did he say something?” Hatori asks. Kana’s attention is on her now too, smiling and curious at the same time. Both of their eyes are on her, willing her to admit what they already know based on her response and the look on her face. But for a brief moment she forgets about Kana and focuses on Hatori and his attention on her. He never looks at her fully when Kana’s in the room, too blinded by his love for her. His attention leaves her warm and wanting, desperate for those veiled covered eyes see her as more than an accessory to Kana. She realizes she’s just staring and forces out a laugh.

“He just thinks he’s a funny guy. I don’t agree.”

Hatori momentarily looks regretful. “I apologize about him. He doesn’t know when to stop.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t control everything about him. He’s manageable.”

“I hope so. He won’t get away with upsetting you, not with me.” Kana says with the wave of a wooden spatula.

Mayu smiles. “Ah thanks. I know I can count on you.”

Ayame soon shows up, late to the time they set for everyone to arrive. Shigure comes through the kitchen walking and greeting everyone as if he hadn’t just embarrassed Mayu. Shigure and Kana follow Ayame to the main room, leaving Hatori and Mayu to themselves.

“Honestly, did he say anything to truly upset you?”

Mayu takes him in, wearing slacks and a button up with that stupid apron. It’s probably the most relaxed she’s seen him in the few months she’s gotten to know and understand him. His genuine concern is almost surprising to her, as if she already made up her mind what his reserved and quiet nature meant about him. Everything about him felt like a breath of fresh air, a calm that settled over her before she even knew what it meant. But now it’s become clearer to her in the last ten minutes just how deep she really is, and ignoring it doesn’t make her feel any better about herself.

She crosses her arms and sighs. “He just needs to be put in his place. As if I’d let someone like that think they have a one up on me.”

Hatori responds with an amused “ah”.

“I have to ask though.” She lowers her voice. “Why are friends with him? You know how he acts, you don’t seem to like it, yet you do everything with those two. Is there something you see that I don’t?” It’s harsh, she knows this and sees it in the dual raise of Hatori’s eyebrows. He contemplates the questions for a short moment before responding. He too crosses his arms then leans against the counter.

“I guess you could say circumstances, with our families being so close. And despite how he is with other people he doesn’t treat Ayame and myself the same way. I could try and keep him more in line but that doesn’t matter much to him.”

“Hm.” Mayu agrees. The conversation is over when Kana steps into the kitchen, apologizing for walking away when she’s supposed to be helping with dinner. The rest of the evening goes smoothly. What happened with Shigure isn’t forgotten, but she doesn’t let it interfere with the rest of the night, Shigure also tame and uncombative. Maybe it had to do with talking to Hatori one on one, having given herself just a slice of what it was like to be the full center of his attention. The guilt is more palpable now.

--

Summer turns into fall, which turns into winter. Finals have been a dreaded and all-consuming thought that almost drove Mayu to rip all her hair out. She only had a until spring of next year until she obtained her degree and could finally say it was all worth it. But she hadn’t reached that stage yet and standing in line for coffee was the only thing that kept her going in the time being.

She doesn’t care much for the winter months, not finding any redeeming qualities in the biting cold and shortened hours of light. It seemed no matter the time of day her energy drained before she could get started, the kotatsu more welcoming than any invitation out to eat. But classes called, coercing her out of bed and dressed in whatever she pulled from her laundry, hair sloppily pulled into a high pony-tail. She’s not the paragon of messy-cute, however that works, but it’s enough to ger her through the day.

“Mayu-chan, is that you?” She turns before she registers who said her name, but it’s too late and Shigure stands in front of her, his own cup of hot liquid held in a gloved hand.

“Oh. Shigure-” Mayu starts.

“Let’s wait ‘til you’ve ordered,” he says briskly then walks towards an empty table, mind made up with a wordless invite following him. If she weren’t in public she would’ve groaned her displeasure of running into him. She entertains him though and heads to his table once she has her drink, sitting down stiffly in her mild irritation.

“It’s been awhile Mayu-chan. Even Kana-chan says you’re not available lately.” Shigure starts conversing, sounding and acting like old friends. She pauses for a moment. She decides to answer honestly.

“I’m just trying to get through classes. With finals coming up I haven’t put much time towards anything other than studying. I feel like my head’s gonna burst.”

“Is that what the coffee’s for?” He nods towards her still hot coffee.

“It’s the only thing keeping me going some days.”

“That’s not healthy, you know.”

Mayu huffs. “If you can find any other alternative, I’m all ears.”

“Put down the books and go to bed. Nothing beats a good night’s sleep.” Shigure’s smile is too pure and aloof, unaware of the inexhaustible pressures of classes and thesis’ and the spiraling self-doubt that accompanied it all. She doesn’t know if he’s had any formal higher education, but the empathy is apparent.

“I can’t just not study.” She says.

“Of course you still study. But is it really worth it when you’ve ran yourself into the ground?” Mayu studies his face. She can’t decide if he has an angle with his sudden advice, or if he’s making a genuine attempt to help her improve her daily life. It’s not unlike Shigure to say whatever pleases himself at the expense of others, manipulating their feelings to get his desired reaction. She wouldn’t dare exclude herself from that list of people.

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to get through this anyway I can.” She ends up saying.

“Well, why don’t I act as a distraction, a way to get you to put down the books and relax for a bit,” he states as if he planned to use this line on her. Mayu’s laugh doesn’t have much humor in it, disbelief a more prominent tone.

“Like hang out as friends?” She says, almost mocking him.

“Go out with me.”

Mayu jerks in surprise, eyes wide at the left-side comment. “Like dating?”

“Like dating.” He doesn’t follow up right away, waiting a moment to gauge her reaction, she guesses. “I mean, with Kana and Hatori together, that makes him unavailable to you.”

She conceals her expression to not show her surprise at the statement. She doesn’t bother with a response either. If he already knows there’s no denying it, but that doesn’t make it any less humiliating to be called out like that. Shigure only continues to smile as he waits for her response to his novel idea, and she wants to wipe it off his face. But she looks him in his eyes. She doesn’t see Hatori in them. They’re two completely different people with contrasting personalities and different standards of life. One of them has a girlfriend who happens to be her best friend. The other is sitting with her at a café, listening to her school woes and even offering her advice. She wants to say the answer is obvious and that a cold stone “no” is going to be the first thing out of her mouth. Instead, it’s “sure”. She’s not confident in her response, but Shigure doesn’t seem to mind and only looks more pleased that she’s agreed to it. Mayu doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into, but after Shigure and her part ways with a wave goodbye, she’s not sure if she’s making the right decision.

--

It’s easier being with Shigure than she expected. He doesn’t start arguments over benign disagreements, doesn’t demand her time and attention all day, and he’s, so far, pulled his punches where he used to run his mouth despite the backlash. Kana, Hatori, and Ayame are the only ones they’ve told so far, Shigure’s “Some times it’s more dangerous not to,” hanging over her head like some ominous foreboding. She doesn’t bother telling her mother, feeling only slightly guilty when she brings up the dreaded topic of marriage and Mayu acts as though her life hasn’t changed in the slightest. She even forgets she’s dating Shigure herself with his presence feeling more like a ghost, tethered but unreachable. Cold even. She doesn’t try and explain his actions away or make excuses for him, that’s a rabbit hole she doesn’t want to fall into, all they really do is show up for each other and make conversation. No spark, no keen interest in the other. Just two people being in the presence of each other to make up for another absence. At least, that’s why she agreed to this at all really, she tells herself.

Some days are lonelier than others, Shigure not a reliable presence when she feels she needs it most. Requests to see him are on his time, not hers, and she puts up with it, telling herself this never started out with intent, just a mutually beneficial relationship. She hasn’t worked out how just yet as she’s still unsure of what Shigure wants out if their time together. Helping with her studies was too weak of an excuse and not something that helped with her studies at all. When she’d asked once, he stated he had been bored. She thinks she should’ve been more offended by his patronizing words, but her intentions weren’t exactly honest herself, stress and desperation her own motivator. She goes back and forth in her mind if he has another lover on the side, undecided if he’s the kind of person to do that. She still doesn’t know.

One thing she finds herself being surprised about is his total lack of initiating any physical intimacy. A guy like Shigure she expected him to pull some suave moves on her to woo her into his bed, but any presumed opportunity that presented itself went untouched. She’s tried to rationalize to herself that he wasn’t attracted to smaller frames, his last comment on her body coming bitterly to mind.

Kana’s birthday is a catalyst for those feelings. It’s a weekend and Mayu expects herself to drink in celebration, not giving up alcohol entirely despite her long stint of sobriety for the sake of her grades. She made those mistakes early on.

It must be that the planets had aligned and aimed in their direction, giving Mayu the energy to laugh and sync up with everyone in the group. Shigure and Ayame tone down their usual antics with Hatori peeking out of his usually hard shell. Alcohol helps him loosen up, gradually becoming more flushed and vibrant as his speech opens the door to his other side. It’s endearing to Mayu, to see someone so outwardly impassive and not show any explicit emotion be reverted to a soul that doesn’t look burdened by their life, like he’s someone who actually sees the joy in what’s around them. Through it all, it spikes her adrenaline and forces a soft rouge to her face, making her more aware and susceptible to Shigure’s heat that’s next to her. He’s had enough to drink himself, being the sole reason any of them were this fucked up as he kept pulling bottle after bottle of sake out with no regard to limits.

Her, Shigure, and Ayame leave for the night, stumbling their way through town and to the metro, laughing at anything and everything. It’s as if she’s forgotten manners and everything her father and mother have dug into her head, the sound of her voice echoing off the walls and tunnels of the station far more entertaining than keeping quiet. Shigure and Ayame guffaw absurdly, causing her to join in without a care to the uneasy stares they receive.

They drop Ayame off with a theatrical goodbye between him and Shigure and walk back to her place with intent in mind, the heat only rising in her, forcing her legs into each step over the undulating sidewalk. Shigure keeps a steady pace beside her, neither straying nor meandering into her path. Her vision weaves and stutters, managing to old herself upright all the way up until she reaches her door. It takes a few stabs of her key for it slide into the bolt, clicking as it unlocked. She turns and holds Shigure’s gaze, hoping he can see what she’s presenting for him, the open door an encouraging invitation.

“Come in.”

Silence stretches as Shigure stands unmoving, hands in his pocket. Mayu can’t tell if the alcohol’s making it hard to process what she said or if he truly is standing there with no intention of coming inside, posture his rejection.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why’s it not a good idea?”

“We’ve drank quite a lot. It wouldn’t be right.”

“For who? You?” She snorts. Shigure doesn’t smile.

“Look,” Mayu feels the floor shift under her as if on a pendulum going back and forth. “I’m a grown woman, and if it’s my honor you’re so worried about—don’t. I don’t need to be treated or looked at like some delicate flower who can’t make her own decisions. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.”

Shigure does smile at that. “I certainly don’t view you as a delicate flower. Delicate flowers don’t make drunken commands on their doorstep.”

“Then why?” Mayu doesn’t register his backhanded comment. “You don’t touch me. You don’t kiss me. I know you said you were bored, but how fucking bored are you?!” She doesn’t mean to spill it all at once. Insecurities of past combine with present, forcing her built-up thoughts out into the open. She’s brushed it off over and over, started making excuses and kept going about her day, but the clear dismissal hits her open and festering nerves. Sure, the alcohol is a boost, but her emotions are real, her thoughts are real, and the words that came out of her mouth are real. Shigure has the gull to look surprised at her outburst, as if she was going to continue staying silent on the subject, letting it slide like she has over the course of their time together.

Shigure’s head lulls up and to the side, revealing glassy and wandering eyes. “I think if that’s how you feel we—”

“No!”

Shigure startles.

“No! You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to be the one who does it. I’m doing it right now, we’re breaking up!”

All that’s heard are the distant cars driving on the street below them. Shigure’s eyes are still wide with his jaw unhinged, a look she’s going to revel in for the rest of her life. A shiver runs through him that brings him back to a more neutral expression.

“I was going to say I should go home and we can talk in the morning.”

Mayu shakes her head. Of course he was going to suggest that, of course he would make her feel like the irrational one. It doesn’t matter. Whatever was going on between them was nothing, and is nothing. In reality, he served no purpose to her, never went out of his way for her and never displayed any sort of romantic affection. Desperation may have driven her to this moment, but she realizes now the increasing disappointment she felt as time went on was only driving her to latch on to Shigure more, dreading having to acknowledge the parts of her that have been rejected.

She doesn’t fault Kana or Hatori for how things worked out between, she still cares for them deeply, but she can fault Shigure for suggesting this while she had her guard was down. Feeling inferior, turns out, allows people like him to seep into their cracks and nestle there, leaving no room for healing. She’s surer now than she’s felt before. She’s glad she’s drunk.

“I meant what I said. I’m done.”

Shigure just nods his head like he’s agreeing where to go for dinner. “Alright then. Have a good night, Mayu-chan.” He walks away. She doesn’t bother watching him go.

--

Besides the hangover the day after breaking up with Shigure, the days following are smooth and dreamlike, waking up without the doubt and increasing anxiety over a relationship that never cared about her. Kana’s called to see if she’s okay, trying to get out of Mayu why she bothered with him in the first place. Her response of “just wanted to try it out” is lackluster even if slightly true. But her switch has been flipped and it takes her being away from Shigure to see how much her desperation allowed her to wallow in her self-pity and make excuses for herself.

Mayu doesn’t see Shigure for some time, going to classes and seeing her parents, not bothering for half a second to look in the direction of another man. She’s sure at this point she would just bite his head off and feed his headless corpse into a garbage compactor. Maybe just Shigure’s.

All of that changes when Kana gets sick.

With cheekbones sunken in, pallor splashing across her face, eyes empty and cracked with red lines, Kana’s entire being looks worn out and rattled. The Sohma family head, Hatori’s eye, Kana’s guilt over what she couldn’t control has manifested itself through possession of Kana’s mind, bringing her to her knees and restricting her outlook. Mayu’s heart only breaks for her, sitting delicately by her side unsure of what else to say or do, all her words and actions preceding having no effect. She tells herself, and Kana, that it just takes time, although she thinks it more often than says it as a way to keep herself grounded every time Kana breaks into another bout of tears. Guilt starts to settle in when she starts excusing herself early, needing fresh air and distancing herself from everything. She can’t begin to understand what Kana’s going through, and she wouldn’t even scratch the surface to understand the Sohmas and how their family head is protected after doing what they did.

Mayu doesn’t see Hatori during any of this. It doesn’t feel appropriate to engage with him in any manner that would cause him upset in regard to Kana. He’s going through this as much as Kana is, and more.

Mayu continues checking on Kana, until one day she walks in and Kana is out of bed. She looks exhausted, the emotional turmoil having taken an obvious toll on her body, but she’s upright and moving about and then she smiles at Mayu. Mayu smiles back, catching a glimpse of the old Kana she’s known for so long now. Then Kana opens her mouth and everything she says, everything she emotes contradicts what she went thru. She talks about Hatori formally, like they didn’t spend the last several months spending every waking moment together. She’s stunned into silence, doesn’t comment on it or try and deny anything. It’s all too fresh and sending Kana back to how she was before would wipe all this progress away. Mayu’s unsure how she got here, considering maybe Kana blocked the memories out as a way to save her soul. Mayu leaves feeling confused and uncertain of this new approach Kana has taken. She’s not going to school to become a psychologist, but she knows this can’t be beneficial for her health, despite Kana’s sure smiles and optimism of returning to full health. Something’s not right.

“Mayu-chan.”

Mayu looks up to see Shigure standing only several meters in front of her. She hadn’t seen him as she walked out of the Sohma estate, her drunken break up proclamation the last time she saw him at all. She doesn’t get a sense of needing to feel proud and march by him with her head held high, too drawn in with clouded thoughts to care about any of that.

“Visiting Kana?” He asks.

Mayu swallows. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“She’s forgotten. Everything. Like it never happened, and Hatori-san was only her boss. I don’t get it…” She trials off, nearing despondent. It’s nearing the end of February and it’s still frigid and stale outside, breath appearing between them.

“Hmm. That is peculiar.” His expression betrays him through his words. It doesn’t seem at all peculiar to him. He tries to excuse himself and continue his way back to the Sohma estate but Mayu blocks his way.

“What do you know?” She demands.

Shigure doesn’t appear bothered. “I don’t know anything. People don’t normally just forget things. That’s why it’s odd.” He tries to move again; she continues blocking him. Now he’s starting to look irritated with a slight slant to his eyes.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back to the main estate.” He says, terse.

“Not until you tell me what happened. You know.” Mayu stares him down, Shigure maintaining a strong front. It takes a moment until Shigure scans their surroundings then gestures for her to follow him. It surprises her that he caves, expecting him to ditch her without any answers, leaving her severely unsatisfied and frustrated. They had been by the entrance of the Sohma estate and watchfully step out into the open public.

Shigure looks more serious than she’s ever seen him. “Mayu-chan. Not everything can go as planned, or as wanted. There are some things meant to be kept as secrets, never for anyone else’s eyes. Sometimes those secrets get out and those involved are to never let those secrets be known. There’s a tradition within the Sohma where certain individuals are selected and trained in a type of hypnosis. It’s memory suppression, a way to put those secrets to the back of the mind. It’s never truly forgotten, but it’s harder to remember. After everything, Kana couldn’t handle having those memories and chose to have them suppressed. She no longer remembers Hatori as a partner, only as a colleague.” After he finishes, Mayu’s mouth flutters for something to say but nothing ever comes out, caught up in wrapping her mind around Kana choosing to forget everything, no longer wanting to live with those memories.

She gathers her composure and finds her voice. “Thanks.” She has no other words for what he’s told her, turning and walking away, her default mode switching on and taking her back to her place.

--

Mayu roots herself to her studies over the next couple of weeks, finals and graduation just around the corner, and simultaneously using it as a proper distraction from her meltdown not too long ago. What Shigure had said shook her more to her core than she could put into words. Two people who suffered from a tragic incident, and one chose to forget while the other was left with those memories and the knowledge that the other forgot. It makes her heart heavy in her chest, the burden of the fallout almost too much to bear as she looked back to Kana being sick, and then not. She didn’t mean to break down in front of Kana the way she did, curling into herself and being comforted by the person who indirectly pushed Mayu to that point. She’s not mad, never could she be mad, but putting distance between herself and the black hole that constantly threatens to pull her in helps ease her anxiety.

Mayu still hasn’t seen or spoken to Hatori. She misses him and his calming presence, his pleated pants and pristine button ups, his baritone voice that carries over her, lulling her right where she wants to be. It becomes increasingly clear to her that her only connection with Hatori was through Kana, the one median they had. She only ever got to know him as a friend, and as much as she dreamed about more, knew it was never meant to be that.

When she’s home and not occupied by anything she always manages to end up with him in her thoughts, wishing him well and hoping that he heals. It’s all she can do. Kana’s bounced back, finding another doctor’s office to work for and retelling happy memories that make them both smile. Kana will be fine, but Mayu will never know about Hatori and if he was able to find a light spot in all the darkness he had to go through. She wonders if it follows him the way it’s followed Mayu, where her mind projects images through her dreams, or she sees their forms from behind in strangers, causing her to shake her head and push the illusions away. She finds her emotional involvement lingers to the side, ready to strike where it fancies.

But time goes on and Kana’s there to celebrate with her at her graduation ceremony, diploma in hand parents pouring their praise for her. She thinks about it less as she gets situated with her job at Kaibara High, still seeing Kana a few times a month to catch up, only feeling a small sting when Kana mentions other men she’s interested in. She never mentions her conversation with Shigure to anyone, feeling it’s in everyone’s best interests to keep it to herself. The Sohma’s are an anomaly, her opinion only becoming exacerbated when she ends up with two of them in her class, reintroducing Shigure back into her life by association and bringing her experiences full circle.

It’s a hard pill to swallow acknowledging what happened in years passed while still maintaining a front of being put together and unbothered. There’s a small part of her that holds out for seeing Hatori at some point and seeing who he’s become since she knew his past self.

All it takes is one summer, and one glance, and it’s as if the years haven’t passed.

[tonysopranosfeverdreams]

They get married on a Thursday morning in mid-March 

They get married on a Thursday morning in mid-March. It’s a  private affair, all things considered, and about as quiet as could be reasonably expected for an event held within the gang. They woke at 8 am (practically the middle of the night, Mac had whined, flinging the arm not already draped atop Dennis’s chest over his eyes in a fashion so melodramatic for his questionable level of consciousness that Dennis actually found himself rather impressed).

The two took their time dressing that morning, side by side in front of Dennis’s bedroom mirror, Mac easing on a surprisingly well-pressed white dress shirt while Dennis cursed his own trembling hands as he fumbled with the clasp on his shirt sleeve. He continued on in much the same fashion until Mac’s eyes snagged on Dennis’s reflection, taking notice of his struggle and  reaching out, instinctively, to grab at Dennis’s elbow and still it, wordlessly pressing the button into place with steady fingers before turning his attention back to straightening his own tie. Dennis felt paralyzed, for a moment, eyes tracking Mac’s large hands as they smoothed over the smooth fabric.

Dennis wouldn’t go so far as to say he was nervous, really. It was absurd to be nervous about something so mundane, so usual as marriage, when you get right down to it. For Mac and Dennis, it was about tax breaks mostly, and convenience.

“Besides,” Dennis had added when he had first introduced the idea, heart surging strangely in his chest and putting a rather alarming amount of effort into sounding as casual as possible, “we’ve been living together for the past 20 years. If we’re going to keep doing it, we’d be foolish not to reap the financial benefits of the situation.”

From the passenger’s seat, Mac had beamed at Dennis for the distance of approximately four blocks until Dennis had snapped at him to shut up, the words coming across maybe more sheepish than he had intended, cheeks heating. Unable to keep himself from sneaking glances out the corner of his eye, he could see the look on Mac’s face, eyes glued to the window, but grinning this small, private smile like he couldn’t help himself. Like he wouldn’t know how to stop even if he wanted to.

What’s more, Dennis thought, is that it was absurd to be nervous about getting married to Mac, specifically. Mac, who had spent the last two decades of his life looking at Dennis in every state you could imagine seeing another human being in. Mac who has seen Dennis on the floor of the  bathroom, ugly mascara streaked cheeks and raw, snotty nose, Dennis drunk and high, Dennis confused when he first wakes up in the morning, and Dennis bleeding after a fight, Dennis shouting,  Dennis spread out against soft cotton sheets, thighs shaking. Dennis when he’s happy, head thrown back on a laugh at something stupid that Dee had said. Dennis afraid.

Once they get to the courthouse, the ceremony is mostly straightforward and over as quickly as it begins. Once they finish exchanging their vows, Charlie  catches Mac’s eye  and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up from where he’s seated in the front row of the courtroom, and Dee manages to only gag once throughout the whole ceremony, which they all count as a win.

But Dennis laughs mindlessly, giddy and almost disbelieving, when Mac finally swoops in for a brief, breathless kiss, and the two of them high-fiving immediately after pulling away.  

When it’s over, they make it back to the bar just in time for opening, and  decide on a few rounds of tequila shots to mark the occasion. Later, when the rest of the gang is distracted, Mac presses Dennis against the wall, and licks the taste of salt and lime from his mouth.

***

It’s not until about 4 months later that shit hits the matrimonial fan.

It’s that time of day during the dead of summer the when the heat’s just begun to break,and harshness of the afternoon sun gives way to a gentler, more forgiving glow. The two of them have spent the brunt of their afternoon off from the bar lounging in bed, bodies listless and heavy in the stagnant air. Dennis, from his position against the headboard, takes a long drag from the joint that Mac had rolled for them earlier, exhaling heavily before holding it out for Mac. Mac, head resting just above Dennis’s thigh, flings up a lazy arm to take it, fingers overlapping clumsily with Dennis’s for a few seconds as he finds his grip.

Mac’s lying so he’s got one leg resting loosely over one of Dennis’s own, and he keeps nestling, rather distractingly, into the soft, loose fabric of Dennis’s t-shirt, nosing absently at the place where his hip meets his side. Dennis watches as Mac brings the joint to his lips, eyelashes fluttering shut as he inhales deeply before reopening, dilated  eyes lolling upward to focus on a spot in the tacky, cottage cheese ceiling above their bed.  Dennis’s hand drifts, unconsciously, to pet at  Mac’s hair, soft and loose, for once, between his fingers, scratching lightly along the crown of his head, the back of his neck. Dennis’s eyelids are heavy from smoking, and he’s just starting to drift off to the static-white noise sound of their ancient air conditioning unit when he, distantly, hears Mac begin speak.

“I was thinking,” Mac starts, and Dennis doesn’t know if it’s just his senses being fucked from the weed, but his voice sounds softer, more cautious, than usual. It reminds Dennis too much of when they were younger, somehow, the nights they spent in Mac’s parents’ basement, gulping down the burning bottles of cheap liquor stolen from the kitchen cabinet, but never missed. The early mornings sitting too close together on the old stained threadbare sofa, hours after Charlie would pass out, whispering things they’d deny if anyone had dared to ask them in the light of day.

Dennis grumbles softly, but forces his eyes open to squint down at him. Mac’s eyes are glued to ceiling still, but more alert now, thoughtful. He’s got one hand fiddling with the hem of Dennis’s shirt.

“I was thinking,” he continues, “that we could take another trip down to the courthouse, this week, maybe, get the ball rolling on  changing my name. Legally, I mean”

At this, Dennis starts slightly, the hand carding through Mac’s hair stilling, momentarily, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Change your name to what?”

Mac tilts his head upward so he can get a better look at Dennis’s face.

“Uh, to yours, bro. Obviously.” His voice is incredulous, as though the answer should be obvious.

Dennis raises an eyebrow, trying to think through the fog of weed that’s clouded his mind.

“So...you want to be named Dennis…..too? I think I’m missing something here, buddy.”

Mac makes a frustrated sound, disentangling himself from Dennis’s limbs to sit next to him on the bed, crossing his legs under him as he faces an extremely bemused Dennis.

“Jesus Christ, man,I meant for me to take your last name. Now that we’re married and all.” he finishes, matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Dennis blinks slowly clearly taking some extra time to process the information. “Why would you want to do that?”

Mac looks at Dennis as if he’s genuinely considering pressing his hand against his forehead and checking for the signs of a fever.

“You know I’ve always  hated my name, dude. And you’re my husband,” Dennis feels something flutter in his stomach, still,  at the use of the word, “so it makes sense.”

Dennis pauses, a moment, considering, before speaking again.

“But isn’t that kind of like…..” Mac raises his eyebrows at him as Dennis fumbles for the right word, making a vague gesture with his hand“....excessive?”

Now it’s Mac’s turn to look utterly lost. It’s kind of adorable. Dennis can’t resist  lifting his thumb to his brow, smoothing out the wrinkle forming there before he continues.

“It’s like, just because we’re married now doesn’t mean we have to do all the same shit that other couples do. It’s not like we can  have kids or whatever, so we don’t have to worry about having the same last name as  them.”

Mac doesn’t look convinced, still staring at him with this searching, confused expression, so Dennis continues.

“Besides, if we turn up somewhere with the same last name, it becomes a whole thing. Like we might as well be announcing it to the whole world, and I don’t want  that.” Mac winces, slightly, at this, a flash of hurt crossing his features that causes Dennis to instantly regret his choice of words.

“Look, Mac,” he hurries onward, fighting back an impulse to crawl into Mac’s lap and kiss the pout forming on his lips, “I’m happy with the way we are. I don’t need everyone else all up in our business,  staring at us and making assumptions. What we’re doing is between us, and we don’t need anyone’s approval. Besides, it’s not like being a Reynolds is anything to be proud of” he chokes on a laugh that sounds forced, even to his own ears.

Mac's  brow creases again, as he listens, and when he speaks, he speaks slowly and carefully, like he’s testing the weight of each word before it leaves his mouth.

“I don't mind people looking at us or knowing we're together. It’s not like I’m….I’m not embarrassed of  being with you, Dennis.” He pauses here, for a moment “Sometimes I think it might be the one thing I've done in life that i'm actually proud of.”

Dennis blanches, whatever he had planned to say next fleeing his mind at record speed, feeling rather lightheaded. He can only stare at Mac as he continues, eyes wide and sincere as he earnestly plows forward.

“You’re the only person whose approval I care about, you know that. I don’t mind getting a few weird looks now and then.” Mac clears his throat, “I’m proud to be your family, Dennis, and I don’t care who knows about  it.”

There’s a long silence, where Dennis feels, for some reason like his heart my beat clean out of his chest. Mac’s still got this serious, focused expression as he studies Dennis, who thinks his own face must reflect some of the awe that he’s feeling. Dennis feels something deep inside of him crack wide open and take root.

“Oh,” he manages, finally, softly. “Okay.”

Mac grins back at him.

“Okay.”

***

The day Mac goes in to officially file papers for his name change is the hottest day of the summer, and, coincidentally, the day their air conditioning unit finally gives out. So, they prop the windows open with old magazines, and celebrate with bargain bin wine and cold Chinese takeout, sprawled out on the floor in front of the tv screen. Periodically, between commercial breaks and bites of chicken fried rice, Dennis leans over and feathers quick, chaste kisses to the side of Mac’s throat, just pressing his mouth against the soft skin over and over again.  

Two days later later, they arrive at Guigino’s for their monthly dinner. When the hostess with the too-orange tan and too fake-bubbly personality asks Mac for their reservation name, her eyes dart down and catch, unmistakably, on the non-existent space between their bodies, the spot where the backs of their hands are just brushing against one another. Mac responds without hesitation, without even thinking, and Dennis lets out a breath he thinks he had been holding for a long, long time.c

[ivisite]

For the drabble meme, 33 with Anruin?

Anruin is petty with a capital “P” and I’m all about that.

#33. “I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage.”

It wasn’t often that Anruin managed to successfully read his map well enough to make it to his destination and it was even more rare for him to stumble upon something worth writing about. Besides studying half-diligently at the two colleges of Skyrim, the small Bosmer found himself enthralled with his own personal journey. He wanted nothing more than to become the greatest bard and with his Mer blood giving him a few extra years to hold over the common man, he was happy to say he had plenty of time to accomplish said feat.

Bards of old simply spoke tales they’d heard from others but Anruin was determined to do the opposite. Based strictly on rumors he picked up while coaxing about local Inns, he managed to catch wind of a new figure emerging- or two, rather. One such figure was the Last Dragonborn, a Nord woman with hair as fiery as the souls of the dragons she captured and the other was a mysterious hooded figure that few had ever actually seen, a harbinger of thieves and larceny that guards whined about in the days after the it was supposedly spotted in the area. Amused by the notion but bribed to say otherwise, Anruin knew far too much about any given person anyways but in particular he knew quite a bit about the newest soon-to-be hero of old.

“Can’t you guys get some incense? Just because it is a sewer doesn’t mean it has to smell like it- and it’s far too humid, too. Humidity isn’t good for singing..” Anruin rambled, walking about the infamous Ragged Flagon that everyone spoke ill of.

At the counter, the owner of said makeshift bar wiped down tankards with an annoyed flair. He was a surprisingly decent looking man, all considering where he set up shop and his so-called lady friend wasn’t too bad on the eyes either. Both, however, watched the Bosmer parade about with the last of their nerves ticking away. 

“Woof Elf, I’ll ask again, what do you want? Shouldn’t you be prancing around an Inn or something?” Tonilia rather pointedly asked. She was a Redguard, Anruin presumed and had a tough demeanor about her. Pretty enough but perhaps too domineering, Anruin could see why her little friend the bar keep might like her so much. Docile by contrast, the barkeep was a good balance to her more assertive nature.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping with your actual lover instead of literally everyone else?” Anruin coolly snapped back, taking out his journal and scribbling something down.

Both the barkeep and Tonilia’s mouth fell agape. The rabble that lived in the sewers weren’t exactly posh and well-mannered but for some stranger to waltz down on his merry way to gods know where just to bother them was infuriating in both both and practice.

“Why you dirty little bast-” The Redguard woman started to say, cut short by a rather loud throat being cleared.

“Can someone please be so kind as to tell me where all my workers are? I’d really appreciate it.”

The man in question was of average height but made up for any short-comings in the area by his gruff voice and permanent look of annoyance that chiseled itself onto his face. The man haphazardly glanced between the three other people in the Flagon only to shake his head and take a seat at a table off to the side. Grumbling about needing something to drink, the man motioned his hand at the barkeep.

“And what in Oblivion do you want, elf?” He spat, looking to Anruin rather hatefully. 

“A hearty drink with warm company, of course. Why else would I have come to such a lovely establishment with such inviting patrons?” Anruin cooed back, smiling at the irritated knitting of the man’s brow.

“If you must know, though, I’m looking for Saoirse. Had a gut feeling she might be around here when not dragonborn-ing.” The wood elf said slyly. In truth, he knew all too well of Skyrim’s rising hero. She wasn’t much of one from what he could see, at least not based on the great, bulky heroes of the past and had a bit of a dark side to her that she bribed him with gold and food to not tell anyone about.

“Oh, well then, that makes two of us.” The grump of a man retorted, rolling his eyes as he drank from his tankard.

“Ah, Mercer! Delvin and Vex are out on jobs with a few of the other stagglers from the Cistern. Brynjolf and Saoirse are probably killing each other or something. Delvin sent them on another job together.“ 

From his spot behind the bar, Vekel must have seen a lot of thing and for that Anruin could respect. Barkeeps and Bards knew everything about everyone that walked by them and were dangerous in their own right. Either type could twist a rumor just a bit and have the whole hold gossiping for weeks on end.

"As long as the job gets finished first, what’s it matter afterwards.” Mercer grumbled again.

It grew quiet in the small tavern after that, an odd but welcoming atmosphere if you squinted and tried really hard to find it. Persistent, Anruin took a seat at a table that was situated on what he called the dock, for lack of better words. If she were out on a job, she would have to come back eventually and he had a million things to ask as soon as she did.

Despite popping up at a bad time during a dragon attacking a nearby settlement, Anruin and Saoirse managed to get along rather well. She wasn’t pompous or haughty like he imagined someone with her title would be and seemed to put up with his presence on most occasions. Perhaps only because he was so insistent on the friendship, the two and whomever happened to be following her around at the time were quite the gaggle to behold. 

After what seemed like hours, the Flagon was greeted to the oncoming hum of what sounded like people screeching in the ratways coming towards the entrance of the tavern. While Vekel seemed amused by it, muttering something about his end of a bet going well, Mercer groaned and rubbed his temples.

“You bloody bastard! How dae you except me to be able to read your damned mind?! Ruddy haired son-of-a bi-" 

”-Look who’s calling the kettle full, you ruddy haired wench! When Mercer heres about this, he’s going to kill me and I’m going to push you in front like a human shield!“ 

Bickering as they walked into the tavern, Saoirse and another red head that Anruin couldn’t help but give a second glance towards made their way over to the seating area. They hadn’t noticed the other patrons just yet but they made good time in grabbing their alcohols of choice and taking seats as far away from each other as possible. Saoirse found herself sitting at the bar and her accomplice sat pretty with the grump from earlier. As quickly as the storm rolled in, it seemingly settled as soon as they had a drink in hand and back to one another.

Anruin watched the two for a moment before taking a seat next to his favorite muse, nudging her playfully in hopes of striking up a conversation while the men across the way talked business in hushed voices. Others started pouring into the tavern soon afterwards, as well, filling the seats and talking loudly while chasing what was left of daylight with various meads and wine. It was oddly comforting, Anruin noted, despite the general ambience leaving something to be desired. He was a muscian and a story-teller at heart and a bustling tavern was where he belonged.

As brazen as he might have seemed, Anruin could read a room in seconds flat. Despite the rumblings of several different conversations and boisterous laughter here and there, he couldn’t help but notice a stale bit of air sitting stagnant overhead. The other red head from earlier seemed to have lightened up once a few drinks settled on his stomach, carrying on with a balding man, a hateful looking blonde and this Mercer fellow from earlier. In contrast, Saoirse was uncharacteristically quiet, even having moved down a few seats from the Bosmer after muttering about not being in the mood.

It was absolutely tantalizing. Like a moth to a flame, Anruin took out his journal again, placing it on the counter along with a quill and ink bottle much to the barkeep’s amusement. There was always something to make a song out of and if the dragonborn had some sort of edge to her, he was about to write every observation on the matter down in his notes. The song of the era would need to be detailed and Anruin was more than happy to include this odd moment of stagnant tension in the hero’s journey in the song.

Not paying mind, he managed to draw a few curious onlookers attention towards him. Another Bosmer of the more cliche archer sort took a seat nearby while a dark haired man with a nicer disposition than the others sat on the otherside of Anruin. Both were quiet as they watched the bard scribble but couldn’t help but interrupt after a while passed.

"What’re you writing, kinsman?” The other Bosmer asked, peering over Anruin’s shoulder while the darker haired male squinted to read the pages.

Anruin loved attention, so when it was given he was to engage, though kept a certain watchfulness about him so not to miss anymore note worthy things. Smiling, he put his quill down and dusted off the corner of the page he was writing on.

“It’s a song. I’m trying to write about our dragonborn over here but she’s too busy moping about to get anything noteworthy out of.” He playfully chimed, pushing the journal into better view for his onlookers.

They seemed intrigued by the notion if not amused as they both skimmed the pages. Strangers they might have been but patrons never-the-less. If they wanted to hear a story Anruin would gladly oblige. While the pair quietly muttered and read through the pages of notes, Anruin let himself study the room. Nothing really changed since his last glance around but from the corner of his eye he did manage to catch a glimpse of something worth taking a moment to ponder on.

From across the way at the table full of important looking members amongst the rabble, Anruin watched as the red headed man gazed at Saoirse when he thought no one was looking. He would let his eyes linger on her for no more than a moment before flickering them back to his own company but wouldn’t let himself go too long without looking her way again. His expression was neutral as far as Anruin could tell from his peripheral vision but the gazes were intense. He wasn’t the target, but he could almost feel the weight of it pass over his shoulders en route to the woman nestled at the edge of the bar. 

“Curious…” He thought to himself before turning his attention to Saoirse down a ways from him. She sat quietly at the edge, tinkering with a fork while her bottle of mead sat sparsely touched.

She, too, seemed to notice the weight and made quick to let her own eyes wander towards the other red head from time to time. It was another hard read but Anruin could feel the weight of her gaze passing over him just as much, if not more so than the red headed male’s. They seemed to dance around each other, glancing in perfectly timed intervals so not to catch one another and Anruin found it rather amusing. It was as though they were bickering still, taking non-verbal shots at one another before passively looking away to await the other’s response.

Picking up his quill and dipping it in ink after several moments of watching the two, Anruin raised his brows nonchalantly and let a coy smile make its way across his lips. His notes were rather bland as of late, mostly based on rumors and the odd sighting but in this instance he decided to toss a bit of grease on the fire. Fingers popped and legs crossed just so, Anruin cleared his throat and caught the attention of the tavern. Pleased with spotlight, he chuckled and looked between the red heads on either side of the room. 

“I saw you two staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage. Care to elaborate or should I just write down that it’s both? That would make for a good line in my song….” He cooed.

Horror struck the faces of both people that had been singled out and every pair of eyes in the tavern began to waver between the two. Anruin, however, couldn’t help but chortle at his feat as he dipped his quill in the nearby ink well. With both red heads at a loss for words by the sudden call out, Anruin shook his shoulders happily and began writing.

"Oh good, it’s both then. The plot thickens and the tension rises! This is going to be the best song ever….”

Anruin is the messiest ho in all of Tamriel and I couldn’t be more proud.

[fullmetalscullyy]

Just an idea for a fanfic: Roy is trying to date someone else, because he decides he has to move on from Riza. He soon realizes it is a dumb thing to do and he loves her so much, so he confesses. I was also thinking Riza isn't okay with the other woman, obviously, but that isn't important. I don't know, if you like the idea and have time. I love your fics, congrats!

thank you so much!!! this spiralled waaaayy out of control so that’s why it took so long to answer :’D (plus, i loved it so much so kept adding to it shhhh ;D) i hope the wait was worth it adfsadfd

enjoy!

we’re not lovers

but more than friends

tonight i’m getting over you |carly rae jepsen

The womanacross from Roy was lovely. Her long brown hair flowed and curled over hershoulder, swept over her left to expose her neck. A thin, golden, necklace surroundedit, resting on her chest, sitting just above the neckline of her dress. Herbeauty was outstanding, Roy had thought, as he charmed her with his smile andconversation.

But itwasn’t a certain blonde-haired woman he had grown to love over the years.

That wasthe whole point of tonight, to try and forget and move past the feelings thathad plagued him for over fifteen years. They both needed to, that was a mutualunderstanding between them. It wasn’t healthy to remain stagnant in theconstant state of limbo they had found themselves in.

They hadtheir past, they had made their bed in Ishval, and now they had to lie in it.

Perhapsthat’s why they were so drawn together. Only a monster could love anothermonster.

Riza toldhim she was happy by his side, but there was always that haunted look in hereyes. He had caused that. He had influenced her decision to jointhe military, however indirectly it was. Riza – good, kind, caring, Riza – hadmurdered thousands of innocents because of him.

He didn’t deserveto be happy because of that and he certainly didn’t deserve her.

So, hewould look on from afar. She deserved someone who didn’t drag her off to war tomake her do things she would regret for the rest of her life. Roy shuddered atthe memory of her resentment when she arrived in Ishval, seeing exactly what he was capable of with theflame alchemy she had entrusted to him.

“Issomething wrong?” Lucy asked with a kind smile.

“Ah,nothing,” Roy smirked, turning his charm on the lovely lady across from him. Not Riza, though. “It was just ashiver.”

“I canhelp warm you up,” she smiled, reaching across to run lazy circles on the backof his hand.

He shouldwant to go home with her, but the look of desire in her eyes and the promiseher actions suggested drew him up short.

This wasuseless. Plus, this was unfair to Lucy. She deserved someone who could give herall of themselves, not someone who had already promised himself to anotherwoman years ago.

“I’msorry,” Roy apologised, gearing up for his big apology speech. This wasn’tworking. He retracted his hand, folding them together atop the table. “I justgot out of a relationship and I’m not quite as ready as I thought it was,” helied. It was better than the tuth.

“Butyou’re Central’s “most eligible bachelor”,” she chuckled, her amusementspeaking of how absurd she thought that title was. Roy and Lucy both. There wasa sympathetic look in her eyes that Roy didn’t expect to see. “Is there someoneelse, Roy?”

He couldlie. He should. But…

“Yes.” Hersmile was wide and understanding. “I’m so sorry.”

Lucystraightened in her chair. “I thought so.” Roy’s blood ran cold in his veins.Was he that obvious? “Go and see your girl, Roy.” She winked at him.

Roy stood,placing more than enough money down on the table to cover both their meals anda very generous tip. He kissed the back of Lucy’s hand gratefully, apologisingprofusely. She laughed away his apology, the sound carefree and light, acontrast to his daily thoughts.

That wasthe other thing about Lucy, she didn’t want someone like him, not really.Everyone had their own darkness inside, but Roy was a blackhole. He would eventuallycorrupt her like he did with everyone else he had met.

The onlyother person alive who knew exactly how he felt was Riza.

So whydid he chicken out when the time came to tell her how he really felt?

*          *          *

Rizatried not to think too much about the significance of tonight. Tried. However,it was all the men had been talking about that afternoon. They were aware of some kind of past between her and Roybut didn’t know the whole story or their current situation; that weird limbo inbetween being close friends and lovers. They weren’t quite the latter, optingto maintain professionalism so they didn’t compromise each other, but thefeelings were there.

Regardless,he had still gone out on a date with another woman.

Tonight,was date number four.

So,Riza only thought the feelings werethere. They were for her, anyway. Clearly, it was one-sided.

The shrillring from the phone in her hallway interrupted her thoughts. Jumping slightly atthe sudden noise, Riza stood wearily, sick of this song and dance her and Roykept doing and answered the phone. Her faithful pup had obviously picked up onher quieter mood this Friday evening, so elected to stay by her side as shemoved to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hawkeye,”Madame Christmas’ gravelly voice greeted her. Riza closed her eyes inresignation, instantly knowing exactlywhat this phone call was about. With a knowing sigh, Riza answered the Madame.

“Again?”Frustration was clear in her tone.

“Afraidso.” There was a hint of disapproval in Christmas’ tone, but whether that wasdirected to her drunk nephew or Riza’s attitude, the latter was too tired ofall of this to care. “And… Well, you better come and see this.”

The word“no” was on the tip of her tongue. She alwayshad to take him home. Christmas never called anyone else. So, Riza had to give upher peaceful Friday night to go and pick up her drunk boss from his aunt’s bar.

Oh, andshe was in love with him, so of course she couldn’t say no.

It wasunfair. The things he said once the alcohol had loosed his tongue, the thingshe promised… It made Riza shiver with delight while dread pooled in her stomach,because they couldn’t move past where they were now. Not until they had atonedfor their sins.

It wasjust a shame he never remembered those promises.

So Rizawould continue to keep picking up Roy after he got smashed at his aunt’s barafter a date, playing the role of dutiful bodyguard and adjutant, because godknows there was no one else who would put up with such bullshit from him.Hughes was gone, so that mantle fell on Riza’s shoulders, and she wouldn’t wishthat burden on any of the other men. They simply didn’t have the patience.

Shejust wished the whole “after a date” part could be left out of it, to spareherself the heartache.

“I’llbe right over,” Riza replied, ensuring to put as much of her irritation intoher tone.

“Thankyou, Riza,” the Madame answered, surprising Riza. She never used her firstname. It was either “Hawkeye” or “Elizabeth”. “You’re a real gem and too goodfor my boy.”

“I, uh,th – thank you, Madame Christmas.”

With anod and a farewell, Riza ended the call, staring at the phone in shock. Somethingwas… fishy here. And why did she need to go to the bar to see what was happening?

Rizasteeled herself as she entered, mentally preparing herself to deal with thisLucy woman. In all honesty she was lovely enough, stunning, and would beperfect for Roy. She didn’t have any darkness within her like Riza did. She wasuntainted by war and trauma, unlike Riza.

Butthat didn’t mean Riza had to like her.

Was itchildish? Yes. Was it idiotic? Yes.

But theheart wants what the heart wants. It was extremely irritating.

“Rizaaa!”Roy called very loudly from his seatby the bar. He had turned around jerkily at the sound of the door opening, the stoolspinning more forcefully than he anticipated. As he rose his glass in a toastto her he wobbled, so much so that the Madame’s hand shot out across the bar,steadying her nephew who was wearing the silliest drunken grin.

Rizanoted there was a distinct lack of a female companion. However, was this really a place you took a woman on adate?

“Comeon! Come get a drink!” he slurred, spinning back around. It was reminiscent ofa child on a swivel chair, enjoying the way it spun, like it was a game.

“No,Roy,” the Madame replied firmly, taking the drink from her nephew’s hands. “You’vehad enough. Time to go home.”

Roy pouted– Riza could see it as she approached the bar apprehensively. “You’re no fun,”he whined, trying to clumsily swipe the glass of whisky back from her.

“Nope.Home time. Hawkeye’s here to pick you up.”

“Riza!”he grinned, turning to face her again. “My favourite Riza.” He hiccupped thengiggled to himself. “My one and only,” he professed, trying to prop his elbow onthe top of the bar, only for it to slide forward and his head to thump painfully off the polished wood.

“Allright, sir,” Riza announced. “Time to go home.” Trying to hide her amusementwas incredibly difficult. That’s what he got for getting her to drive him homeafter his date. Riza only prayed Lucy wasn’t here with him and she would haveto driver her home too.

As ifreading her mind, Madame Christmas answered that question for her. “Just a taxifor one tonight, Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

Good. Therewas only so much Riza could take in one night and dealing with drunken Roy puther at her limit.

“Noooo…”her charge whined as he lifted his head, rubbing the side where his head hadconnected with the hardwood. “I want to stay. I want to stay here with Hawkeye.”

“Well,what we want isn’t always what we get,” Riza replied, just realising how shesounded after the words left her mouth. Feeling Christmas’ gaze on her, Riza purposefullyignored it as she lifted one of Roy’s arms over her shoulders, grasping thatwrist, while snaking one of hers around his back.

“That’strue! You’re so wise Riza,” he gushed, wobbling as he stood.

“Yes,sir,” she replied, desperate to keep that professional barrier between them. Thingswere getting into dangerous territory. If Riza wasn’t careful, this could getvery messy.

The tripto his apartment was uneventful. Roy fell asleep in back, snoring softly as hishead rested against the cool glass of the window. Riza purposefully put him inthe backseat to avoid dealing with him if he decided to try and stay awake totalk to her while he was in the passenger’s seat. Getting him into his apartmentwas easy once she had finally woke him up again. It took three decent slaps tohis cheek to rouse him from his drunken sleep.

It was onlywhen they were in his bedroom that things begun to get complicated, like the usuallydid.

Butwith one exception.

“I loveyou, Riza,” he breathed as she draped his suit jacket over the back of the armchairin his bedroom. Glancing back sharply, his head was bowed, shoulders slumpedforwards.

“Wh –What?”

Hishead lifted and Riza was left breathless at the miserable, desperate, look inhis eyes. One tear fell down his cheek slowly, dripping onto his white shirt.He looked so… broken. Shattered. A shell of his usual self.

“I loveyou.” His eyes shone with a different kind of clarity. This… This was a new one.Usually there was the begging for her not to leave him, to hold him while heslept to keep his demons away, coupled with promises that one day he would makeher happy. Sometimes, Riza obliged – selfishly – but it wasn’t often. It had onlyever happened twice. Most of the time, she couldn’t.

“I loveyou so much,” he repeated. “I really do.”

“Sir –”

“Pleasedon’t use that,” he begged in a whisper, breath hitching. “I can’t bear thatthat’s all I am to you.”

“S –Roy,” Riza corrected herself. “You know why that is,” she replied gently.

“I do,but I hate it. I hate that I can’thold the woman I love, tell her how much I love her, hold her close,” herepeated, the clarity from his eyes gone. There was a sinking feeling in Riza’sstomach. These words may have all been from the heart, but how much of it wouldhe remember when he awoke?

Still…It was nice to hear.

Thosefeelings the supposedly shared were still buried inside him somewhere. How truethey were, remained to be seen. He was incredibly drunk, after all.

“Theother women,” he gestured, voice taking on a tone of mild disgust. “Are adistraction,” he slurred. Roy gestured wildly with his hand, as if brushingthose other woman away from him, but he almost toppled off the bed in his enthusiasm.Riza reached to steady him, Roy’s eyes instantly finding hers as soon as Riza’shand was on his shoulder.  “Lucy nevermeant anything to me,” he added, voice earnest. “Honestly. It was a way to tryand get over you, but… but I found out… I didn’t want to.”

Riza’sstomach dropped.

“All Icould think about was you,” he mumbled, eyes drooping closed. Without a word,Riza edged him onto his back as he lay down. “There’s always only ever been you…Love you…” His eyes closed slowly, face going slack.

Rizawatched him, frozen in place by his revelation.

This was…life changing. Literally, everything could change between them, both good andbad, if Riza brought it up again. However, due to personal reasons, she knewshe never would. They had sins to atone for and a job to do. There was no placein her life for talk like this, even if Roy was telling the truth.

Chalkingup to the effects of the drink, Riza steadied her shaking hands as she pouredhim his usual glass of water and collected a couple of painkillers from hismedicine cupboard. Upon returning to his room, Roy was passed out and snoring.

*          *          *

Roy’shead pounded as he awoke. There was a moment of disorientation as he tried toremember where he was and how he had gotten into his bed. Flashes of last nightreturned to him briefly, like a blinding white light that made his head hurteven more.

Hisbody was lying on top of the comforter. His black overcoat lay neatly over the sideof the chair in his bedroom. His blazer was draped over the back so that it wouldn’tcrush. The trousers of his suit and his shirt were a lost cause though, theywere crumpled to hell, but that was something he was okay with. The thought ofRiza undressing him to put him to bed was too much to handle.

Tryingto sit up was a straight failure. The bile in his stomach made itself known andhe retched into a basin that he didn’t remember placing by the side of his bedlast night. Come to think of it, he certainly wouldn’t have collected the tallglass of water and painkillers which currently resided on his bedside table.

Riza…

She wasalways taking care of him, he realised miserably as he rested his head on the rimof the basin.

Fourhours later, once he was finally able to face standing up, Roy fumbled his way tothe phone in his living room.

“Can I talkto you?” he rasped, asking immediately after Riza answered, barely giving herthe chance to say hello. Silence greeted him on the other side of the phone andRoy thought she wasn’t going to answer.

“Aboutwhat, sir?” she asked casually, but there was an edge to her voice. She wasannoyed. Roy groaned internally. The flashes had formed into full blownmemories a short while ago, as they always did after a night of drinking. He wasn’tlucky enough to be able to forget any embarrassing things he had said or done whiledrunk.

Whichmeant he also remembered every drunken word he confessed to Riza, every promisehe made to her.

Heswallowed the bile in his throat, a result of the nerves in his stomach. Last nighthe had told Riza he loved her. As in, “I’min love with you”. This… both wasn’t a good thing but something he was alsorelieved about. It was out there, in the open. He had drunkenly confessed it, which,in a way, was a coward’s way out, but at least the drink had given him thecourage to say something he had been meaning to for years. The result of his revelation while out with Lucy had sparkedit and the excess drink had spurred the notion along.

“Lastnight.”

“Don’t mentionit, sir, just helping out a –”

“Butyou didn’t have to, though. You neverhave to. I want to make it up to you.”

“Sir –”

“Riza,please,” he begged, his voice dropping low, almost a whisper. “I need to speakwith you.”

“Allright,” she agreed after a moment. “Where –”

“Myplace? As soon as possible?”

Therewas another pause. “Understood.”

“Thank you,”he breathed, but she had already hung up the phone.

Royspent the next twenty minutes showering and brushing his teeth to rid his mouthonce and for all of his vomit breath. The basin he had vomited into numeroustimes was no clean and sitting on the balcony at the back of his apartment toair off. It wouldn’t do to have that sitting in the house while he had a guest.

Afterthe benign greetings and small talk – as little of it as there was – Roy launchedright into what he had planned to say.

“I’msorry,” he announced. “I was out of order last night and I truly do appreciateyou coming to pick me up and bring me home from the bar.”

“Not aproblem, sir,” she replied simply. Roy’s cheek twitched at the use of “sir”.

“Butthe thing is you don’t need to dothat.”

“TheMadame didn’t make it seem like she was giving me much of a choice,” Riza replied,tone dry.

“That’s…”his tongue almost slipped. He had asked Christmas to always call Riza to pickhim up from the bar if he got out of hand. She was the only one on the teamcapable of putting up with his shit, and while the Madame disapproved of thearrangement (because it was grossly unfair to Riza), she agreed, nonetheless.The truth was, Roy didn’t trust anyone else as much as he did her. “Sorry. Thingsare a little foggy as I try and piece it all back together.”

Hecursed himself as he automatically begun to chicken out.

“You don’tremember anything, I understand.” Her tone said she understood, because thatwas the lie he told every time, but the edge in her voice showed her true bitterness.

Thatwas what pushed him to finally reveal the truth.

The liesaved complicating things between them however he should be fucking mature andlevel headed enough not to get himself into that position in the first place. Hisdemons didn’t see it that way and sometimes Roy just needed to shut them upwith the poison of alcohol. At least, for a few hours, he could forget…

Onlyfor it to come rushing back. The reminder of the inappropriate things he had saidto his dearest subordinate, the way she would take care of him withoutcomplaint when he was drunk off his ass, it all came back to him. It was also avery nice reminder that he didn’t deserve Riza Hawkeye. She was so good to himand Roy, in return, treated her like dirt.

Today,he would rectify that.

“That’sthe thing, I do remember.” Roywatched carefully as she begun to scoff, only to freeze in place finally realisingwhat he had said. “I remember last night, and I remember what I say every time.”

“E –every time?” she questioned. Roy nodded. Her expression changed. “Why did youlie, then?”

It wasa fair question, one he expected. “Because if I told you the truth, it wouldcomplicate things between us and we’ve both come to a mutual understanding aboutthat,” he gestured between the two of them. “The truth is…” he took a deepbreath, getting ready to dive headfirst into a dark and stormy sea, not knowingwhat would happen to him once he breached the surface of the water. “I do loveyou, Riza.” She was a statue now. “But the reason I never said it before isbecause I feel I don’t deserve you. Not after what I did to you and in Ishval.Keeping you at arms-length was the appropriate course of action.

“So, I liedto cover it up.” He chuckled humourlessly to himself. “I always was a cowardwhen it came to our personal relationship. Too scared to admit how I felt in caseI fucked it up.” Roy’s eyes dropped, falling to rest on his clasped hands infront of him. His elbows dug deeper into his knees, using them to steadyhimself in the tumultuous sea before him. Riza had yet to say a word. If it meanthe could get everything out in one go rather than hiding from it behind anotheranswer he had to give her, then it was for the best.

Even ifit did fuck everything up, at least the truth was finally out there after overa decade. She deserved that much, at least.

“I havebeen incredibly selfish, and for that I apologise.”

Riza staredat him for a long moment. Roy’s gaze dropped, feeling ashamed of everything hehad put this wonderful woman through over the years. The edge and irritation hehad heard in her voice earlier was Riza reaching her breaking point. Roy knewthis. There was only so much she would be able to take.

He hadsaid his piece, however there was one more thing he had to say.

He hadto give her the option to walk away, should she desire it. It was only fair.

“In mydesk drawer at work there are a set of forms,” he began, unable to look her inthe eyes. Again, being a coward. “They’re transfer forms.” It was barely audible,but Riza’s breath caught. “Should you wish to have me sign them off, I’llreadily accept, and you can finally be free of me and my bullsh –”

“Idiot!”she shouted, standing abruptly. Roy jumped in fright at the sudden rise in hervoice. “Do you really think that’s what I want?”

Roy’smouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “I thought –”

“I’msick of your bullshit, yes,” she seethed, glare pinning him in place. “You’re agrown man, you should fucking know better, but do you really think that I would wantto transfer away from the team? And you can’t even look me in the eyes to saythat?” She scoffed.

“I… I…”

“Thishas nothing to do with you, and everythingto do with you,” she added, laughing humourlessly to herself. A hand ranthrough her hair, leaving bits of it sticking up on her head. “What you think youdeserve and what I think you deserveare vastly different,” she replied, gaze hard. “I promised to protect you andfollow you, didn’t I?”

“Yes,”he replied upon realising she was waiting for him to answer.

“Wepromised we would atone for our sins, correct?”

“Yes.”His voice was stronger this time.

“Wepromised we would do that together.”

“Wedid,” he swallowed.

“So whythe fuck would I want to transferaway?”

“Riza, I’msorry, I just thought –”

“Yeah?”she asked, and Roy was shocked to see her eyes were wet. “Well, you thoughtwrong. God,” she scoffed to herself. “You’re an idiot.”

“I mean,I know I am, but why do you think so?”

“BecauseI love you too, doofus.” Roy felt hisheart stop, only to rev up into top gear, beating wildly. “I’ve done so foryears and I don’t want to leave you, but you’ve been too blind to see it. You remember everything you sayafter I put you to bed, black-out drunk? Well, I live it. I have to hold you as you cry yourself to sleep, I have tolisten to your ramblings about how “one day” we’ll be together, and we’ll behappy.” Her eyes were threatening to spill over now and Roy was transfixed byRiza’s show of emotion. “I have to watch you go on dates with other women andpick you up afterwards, listening to you raveabout how great they are to the other guys!”

Roy wasup and out of the chair as the first tear fell down her cheek. He wrapped hisarms around her tightly, refusing to let go even as she struggled.

“It’sall an act,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. “I was drunk last nightbut I meant every word. It’s the only time I could tell you the truth becauseit’s the only time I didn’t feel scared to death about us.”

“Why wereyou so scared?” she asked, a quiet sob interrupting her words. Her fight againsthis hold ended, Riza’s hands splaying across his chest since he had trapped herarms between their bodies.

“Incase you left me. In case it was too much to deal with, loving me while beingphysically unable to.”

“So,you leave me to wonder if your drunken ramblings are real or not?” she asked indignantly.

“Yes.”Riza stilled against him. “Yes, because it was the safest curse of action. Itwas so stupid, I know that, but therewas never an appropriate time to tell you the truth. Not without us gettinginto trouble.”

“You’re–”

“An idiot,”he chuckled to himself. “I know.”

“Well,yes,” Riza replied matter-of-factly, and Ry gave her a quick squeeze ofaffection. “But you’re my idiot.”

“I am,indeed.”

“That’swhy I watch your back. Someone has to stop you acting like one. I’ll just needto try harder next time.”

Roylaughed quietly. “You do a grand job as it is, however I apologise this onetook a little longer to figure out.”

Rizatook a deep breath. “I love you too, Roy, but know this can’t change anything betweenus.”

“Oh, I know,don’t worry.” He loosened his grip, placing his hand on Riza’s upper arms topull her back, gazing lovingly down at her. “But I had to get it out there.After that date with Lucy last night I fully realised how stupid that idea was.There was no way I would be ableto get over you. There’s only ever beenyou.”

Riza smiled sweetly up at him, placing her head back on his chestwith a content sigh.

At least the truth was out there now. Where this left them?Roy wasn’t sure. But for the moment, things were okay.

All was as it should be in the universe, with Roy openlyadmitting he loved Riza Hawkeye, and Riza openly admitting she loved Roy Mustang.

[8-bitgossip]

Quotations

Ambient Conversations:

“I fucking hate mosquitos. Can we get away from all of this stagnant water before we die of West Nile or some shit?”

“You know, there’s a really good hiking trail around here. If you just turn here…. And we’re going the other way. Nevermind.”

“Gotta love the wilderness, the sun, the rivers, the lakes, the idea that there could be a Chosen archer hiding in the trees just waiting to murder us.”

“...Yeah. Heights. This’ll be fun. Not. Can we uh -- get down. Like. Now.”

“So. Have you ever thought about what’s gonna happen when all this is over? People don’t even have homes to go back to anymore and what? Are we gonna hold hands and sing kumbaya and pretend this all didn’t happen? Like fucking hell.”

When Deputy Points a Gun at Them:

“Ah. So this is what betrayal feels like. Gotta admit I’m hurt Deputy.”

“Et tu, Brute?”

Holland Valley:

“Ah. You can almost smell John Seed’s entitlement from here. Or… maybe that’s just his cologne. Eau de Asshole.”

“The Spread Eagle. Did you know that Girl’s Night has karaoke? You’ll have to ask Grace to sing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! by Shania Twain. It’s a blast.”

“Ah yes. Open fields, straight roads, the perfect place for snipers to shoot at us while I can’t shoot at them. Let’s get a move on.”

“...you think that the general store ever got my shipment of books in before shit went south? No?” *sighs* “And I was so looking forward to finishing the last of Toni Morrison’s body of work.”

“Gotta admit, even though I don’t remember it -- one baptism was more than enough for me; evidently I cried the whole time. My childhood priest wouldn’t be pleased with me converting to some crazed religious cult. Catholicism is cult  enough for any one person.”

“You think we could convince some people to sneak speakers up by John’s house? And blast Oh John from their fucking radio station while he tries to sleep? It’ll be hilarious.”

After Being Captured By John:

1st Encounter: “Did you enjoy your dip in the bliss filled water? Was John everything you hoped for? Thank god for Pastor Jerome and getting you out of there before shit hit the fan.” 2nd Encounter: “God. John’s quite the drama queen isn’t he? Shouting for you over the loudspeakers, promising that God will lead him to you.” *snickers* “He’ll be sending you flowers and love poetry before you know it, Dep.” John’s Death: “Well, everyone in the Valley can breathe at least a little easier now… It’s just a damn shame about the lives lost in the process and all of the people displaced by the violence.”

Henbane River:

“Ah yes, just your good, old fashioned, brain melting hallucinogenic drugs that at the very least sends you on a bad trip and at worst, turns you into a fucking zombie. Just how I wanted to spend my Tuesday.”

“Oh good. I’ve been meaning to stop by and see Addie. I have to talk to her about the fucking alleged haunted house she sold me.”

“I swear officer! It wasn’t me! Don’t cart me off to jail!” *snickers*

“You know what fucking sucks the most about all of this? They blissed out all of the best swimming spots in the Henbane, so unless you want to get really high I don’t recommend it.”

“Do you have any idea how much I’d love to take a rocket launcher to that sanctimonious prick’s dick?” *pause* “On the statue, dumbass. Although… Now that I’m on the topic…”

“...Please tell me that you’re also seeing pink elephants and about a dozen Faith’s littering the sides of the roads. Oh god.”

After Being Captured By Faith:

1st Encounter: “You never take me anywhere nice, actually, I lied. Do not. I repeat. Do not. Take me skydiving off of that fucking statue. I will murder you.” 2nd Encounter: “Best be careful there Dep. The adrenaline can bring you back but… there’s always a cost. You gotta wonder what the cost of finding that Marshall and bringing him back is.” Faith’s Death: “It’ll take years for this place to get back to normal… All of that Bliss, in everything. It’s not just gonna go away, and we don’t even know the long term effects. What a fucking waste of life.”

Whitetail Mountains:

“I should stop by and see Will and Eli while we’re here… No one in that fucking Militia keeps themselves fed unless you bug them about it. Fully grown toddlers, I swear to god.”

“Guess I should be thankful that the Cult isn’t as concerned with book burning as other zealous religious groups -- I would storm the Veteran’s Center myself if Jacob tried to burn my books.”

“...Did you hear that howl? We should go. Before we end up as wolf chow. Or, we could stay and when the Judge’s come you stay there, and I’ll climb a tree and use you as a big, beautiful distraction.”

“So… You know that fucking eyesore of a Truck that Hurk Senior owns? A few months ago I dumped pink paint all over that shit. Hurk and Sharky thought it was funny… his daddy not so much. It was just detailed too. Such a shame, that.”

“For the record, if you’re planning on using helicopters to travel you can count me out, out of this county, out of this little group of yours, out of existence. There will be no heights for this woman in this or any lifetime.”

“Please tell me that you’re not actually going to get those records on the kid’s list. He has like, the WORST music taste. Literally give anyone else that job because I don’t know how much of What’s New Pussycat I can take.”

After Being Captured By Jacob:

1st Encounter: “Careful now, Dep. The mind is the one thing that’s really hard to un-fuck once you get it into a bad place so just… be careful. The reprogramming may not be so family friendly.” 2nd Encounter: “You ever think that people get tired of his whole, “I ate a man once”, shtick? Like. We get it, you’re the scary mountain gremlin who likes to murder people and train deadly wolves, we don’t need more than that.” Jacob’s Death: “...What happened was... unfortunate. But it’s over now. It’s all almost over.”

Intercompanion Dialog:

Nick

Nick: “Hey. So, Kim’s been meaning to ask you for that recipe you and Will brought to the last cookout.” Bridget: “The peach cobbler or the pudding shots?” Nick: “….Both. Definitely both. And make sure that you bring them both again next time. They were a lifesaver. Who the fuck brings pineapple pizza to a barbecue?” Bridget: “Evidently, the Seeds. As if we needed another reason to shoot them.” Nick: *laughs* “Right?” Bridget: “I’ll make sure to stop by the next time I have a chance, I’m sure that Kim would enjoy some new faces around.”

Grace

Bridget: “I managed to find a copy of Beloved for you if you’re still interested in reading it?” Grace: “Really? You found it before the Peggies lost their shit then?” Bridget: “Yeah, it was in the last shipment of books that came into the library before everything went post-apocalypse now.” Grace: “I’d love to read it, be nice to take my mind off of everything that’s going on.” Bridget: “Of course! I’ll bring it by 8Bit the next time we’re gonna meet up there for you to read. I promise you’ll love this one.” Grace: “You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

Boomer

Bridget: “You know… I’ve always been more of a cat person myself….” Boomer: *whines* Bridget: “Don’t give me those --” *sighs* “Fine. Fine. You’re the only exception. Happy now?” Boomer: *happy bark*

Sharky

Sharky: “Hey so, Bridget. I have a question.” Bridget: “Hm?” Sharky: “Do you think that readin’ Shakespeare and Charles Dickens and shit would make me sound smarter?” Bridget: “Nope.” Sharky: “Seriously?” Bridget: “Sharky, it was like… the Simpsons of our times, people just like to act like it was smarter and better. Besides, you’re plenty smart by yourself and if anyone tells you different you can tell them to find me and I’ll beat the shit out of them with my twenty five pound Shakespeare anthology.” Sharky: *laughs* “Can and will do, ma’am.”

Adelaide:

Bridget: “So… About that haunted house you sold me…” Addy: “Ah, I was wondering when you’d figure that out -- technically no one’s ever died on the property and the hauntings are all just rumors that the town likes to tell.” Bridget: “It definitely explains why it was half of the price of every other house in Hope County.” Addy: “Darlin’ you always get what you pay for, and honestly, I think you and that man of yours got quite the steal on that place.” Bridget: “Uh-huh. Just know, that if I die, I have every intention of haunting you just so that you have to deal with those sort of shenanigans and whispers from the people in Fall’s End.” Addy: *laughs* “It’s a deal.”

Billy:

Billy: “So I say we just…” *inaudible whispering* Bridget: “Absolutely not! We are not going to panty raid the entirety of John Seed’s house and hang his silk underwear from his flag pole no matter how funny I think that is.” Billy: “Come on, think of the rage -- the pure unadulterated fury that he’ll have at seeing his glorious black silk boxers hanging from every available surface in the Valley.” Bridget: “Do not. It’s too fucking tempting.” Billy: “You know you want to.” Bridget: “You’re the absolute worst.” Billy: “That’s not a no.” Bridget: “Fuck you.”

Peaches:

Bridget: “Hey! You want some treats?” Peaches: *cougar noises* Bridget: “I talked to Chad and he gave me the scraps from the latest roadkill he’s gotten and I’ve saved it for my favorite kitty.” Peaches: *happy cougar noises* Bridget: “Yup! It’s all for the best murder machine in the Henbane.”

Hurk:

Hurk: “So you’re sure you’re not interested in Hurk’s Gate?” Bridget: “Nope. I’m pretty good where I’m at, plus, Jerome would be out a Youth Pastor if I did.” Hurk: “Well, I guess you could still stay with the Youth Pastoring thing, helping the youth and all of that is important, plus you could start recruiting them to Hurk’s Gate.” Bridget: “Still gonna pass.” Hurk: “Huh. Gonna have to do the hard sell on you, huh? Well, what if I told you that there are tons of beautiful men and women who are --” Bridget: “Hurk, I’m gonna stop you right there. My grandmother was Irish Catholic, were I to convert to anything she’d come down from heaven just to beat the ever living shit out of me.” Hurk: “Respecting the wishes of your grandma I can get that. Yeah.”

Jess:

Jess: “Hey, thanks for letting me crash with you and Will for the last few months, it’s been… a lifesaver. Really.” Bridget: “We know how hard it’s been, I’m glad to see you getting back on your feet… Well, as back on your feet as you can get given the circumstances.” Jess: “It’s crazy, all this shit goin’ south with the Peggie’s is what it’s taken for me to get my life back in order… It’s almost surreal.” Bridget: “Well, if you ever need us, our door is open and the spare bedroom is yours.” Jess: “Thank you, Bridget.’

Ashlee:

Bridget: “So. When all of this is over, we’re having a party. A big one.” Ashlee: “Obviously.” Bridget: “My first thought is at the lake, but then I’m like, “but wait, we live in the middle of nowhere, our only sources of entertainment are drinking and shooting things” which means that I’d spend my time worrying about people accidentally ending up in the water and drowning.” Ashlee: “A fair point, but may I just say that they’re all fucking adults and should know better. We’ll grab some trucks to put along the waterfront to play music and block the way into the water and then people will have to think to get in.” Bridget: “An excellent idea. This is why I keep you around.” Ashlee: “And here I thought it was because I was attractive and intelligent company.” Bridget: “Always. Heart emoji” Ashlee: “Did you just---” Bridget: “Don’t.”

Cheeseburger:

Bridget: “Cheeseburger!” Cheeseburger: *bear noises* Bridget: “You know, every time we’re out here, I’m always surprised that the deputy hasn’t had a saddle made to ride you into battle like the majestic beast you are.” Cheeseburger: *bear noises*

[romanssippycup]

Aside from Strength

This is a dumb stupid Logince fic that I just finished and I think its horrible, but I’m tired and want to go to bed, so I’m uploading this tonight. I’m dead now. Gnight. Everyone is probably out of character. I’m sorry.

Tagging: @pirate-patton and @tinysidestrashcaptain

(Ship): Logince

Warnings: Tickling

It had been about a week or so since Logan and Roman started dating. The relationship started out like a business partnership, only working to benefit Thomas and not themselves. However, after a few days, you could tell they began to toe each other’s areas of expertise. Logan began to think a little more outside the box, taking the information he had and bending his logic slightly, while Roman began to point out facts about his ideas every once and awhile. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise to the other sides when Roman conducted his first analysis and Logan took an ‘extra’ approach.

Research was never in Roman’s area of interest, but when he didn’t believe his boyfriend’s study about how all the sides had the same physical strength, he took matters into his own hands. Logan had not done any physical tests on the other sides to defend his points, so the prince decided he would prove him wrong and use the source of the hypothesis as his experiment.

“Logan!” The logical aspect was currently laying on the couch reading a greek epic that Roman had suggested for him.

“Yes Roman? Did you need something?”

“Why yes I do!” The prince strode up to the logical aspect and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You do not have proper evidence that all the sides are as strong as each other, because you have no physical proof! Therefore, I am going to disprove your hypothesis in an arm wrestle!”

Logan stifled a chuckle at his boyfriend’s assumingly pointless challenge, as he arose from the couch to face him. “Very well. One can never do enough research when supporting a case, so I will give you a chance to prove me wrong.”

Roman inwardly cheered while he led Logan to a small corner of the mind palace where he conjured a small wooden table and two chairs. Being the fanciful aspect he was, he snarkily pulled out a chair and motioned for the logical aspect to sit. Logan rolled his eyes and took the seat without question, carefully watching how Roman pushed the seat in and deviously bounded towards his own chair. With a sparkle in his eye, Roman eagerly forced his elbow down on the table, waiting for Logan to do the same.

The logical aspect took a once over of Roman, making sure he wasn’t trying to pull another prank, and then firmly took his hand, resting the elbow on the table.

“Ready?” Roman wiggled his eyebrows flirtily and up down, clearly trying to falter his opponent.

“I will be once you stop doing that.” It took every ounce of strength Logan had not to blush at his boyfriend’s actions. Much to his relief, Roman stopped quickly afterwards.

“Okay okay…” He readied himself staring his opponent dead in the eyes. “Ready...3”

“2…” Logan composed himself.

“1…”

“Begin!” Instantly pressure was pushed from both sides. Biceps flexing. Hands straining. Fingers gripping the other’s as if it was their only lifeline. Roman’s determined expression faltered as he realized the position of their hands continued to remain at a 90 degree angle. Glancing up at Logan, Roman could tell that he was straining as much as he was because of the little grunts escaping from his mouth. It wasn’t fair that Logan was as strong as him. He was the prince! He should be the strongest, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t for the life of him get any leverage on his side of the table.

Suddenly though, Logan turned Roman’s hand in an odd way and easily slammed his arm down on Roman’s side, signaling his victory. Roman’s eyes went wide with shock. “You cheated!”

“Did my elbow lift from the ground?”

“No.”

“Did I use my other hand for support and better leverage?”

“No!”

“Then I didn’t cheat.”

“Then...how-”

“It’s quite simple really. Physics and muscle placement. Also the fact that we are only part of a human aids in that respect. But clearly you were not ready for that strategic move. Would you like a rematch?” Oh the smirk on Logan’s face could not be more apparent. And Roman wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face.

Clenching his teeth in bitter saltiness, Princey struck the table with his elbow once again. “With pleasure.”

The second rematch started the same as the first, except Princey had his own ‘strategic move’ in mind.

“Oh...hello...Virgil.” Roman glanced in the direction of a certain darker aspect, except had he actually been there Logan might have said hello to him too. But the logical aspect could tell what Princey was up to.

“Tampering with results to better suit the outcome you want is not the correct way to gather data, Roman.” And with another twist of Logan’s hand, Roman yelped in pain as he fought for leverage, only to be pushed down to the table once again.

Their grasp released as both sides tended to their sore muscles. Princey growled. “I will not stand for this! I am the strongest here and I will prove it!” Logan suppressed his smirk as he watched his determined boyfriend once again set himself up for a rematch.

The logical aspect grasped his open hand and the stagnant match began again. This time Roman managed to reach under the table to lightly scratch at one of Logan’s knees. Much to his dismay, Logan’s complexion remained the same except for the slight look of annoyance that crossed his face.

“Since you refuse to play fair,” Logan suddenly stood up and knocked his chair over, pulling Princey out of the arm wrestle. Roman was too shocked to correctly react as he was yanked from his seat, flying over the table, and onto the ground with his back. Quickly, Logan straddled him and set his hands on his boyfriend’s sides. “...perhaps we need more than one physical competition to better our results.” Roman’s face immediately turned from one of shock to mortal terror.

“Oh...oh no...oh god Logan please DODHOHOHOHOHHOHHOOHHON’T!!” Without warning, Logan began wiggling his fingers against Roman’s sides eliciting hearty laughter from the fanciful aspect. His hands shot out to protect his sides, but Logan kept expertly switching between tickle spots to effectively weaken the prince.

Logan allowed his smirk to show as he began to tease. “My Roman. I am very glad that no Dragon Witch has decided to use this secret weakness against you. Or else you might have been defeated a long time ago.”

Roman was too busy laughing and trying to fight Logan off to give a proper response, thus it just sounded like he was speaking a different language.

After a minute so, he arose off of him to give him the break he needed, but Roman instantly got up and tackled Logan to the floor, the positions quickly reversing. But the fact that Logan’s facial expression did not change throughout his pounce unnerved him. Even when the logical aspect hit the floor, he made no flaunting of trying to escape. In fact, he used sarcasm.

“Oh dear. It looks like I am captured. Whatever will I do?” It was said with such dry humor that it almost made Roman laugh.

“You will laugh for me that’s what!” But as he began in Logan’s armpits he got no response. He then tried his ribs, tummy, neck, legs, but all came back with no response whatsoever.

“I believe you will find I am not ticklish Roman.” The fanciful aspect whined in response.

“Unfair!!” He then began to try all over Logan’s body looking for even the slightest wiggle.

“I see you are determined, but I did not inherit any of Thomas’s ticklishn-” His voice stopped there as a gasp was emitted from his lips when Roman ghosted his hips. Logan’s eyes met Roman’s as the faces of mortal terror and shock switched owners. The grin spread on Princey’s face slowly but surely, the pieces clicking into place.

“Oh my dear Logan, I do believe I have found your tickle spot.” He lowered his hands teasingly, making grabby motions towards his target.

“N-no.” Logan’s voice faltered. “You are mistaken.”

“I don’t think so.” Roman sung as he instantly drilled into Logan’s hips causing the logical aspect to let out a higher-pitched grunt than normal, trying to keep the laughter in. But he finally burst into soft laughter as Roman rapidly squeezed the pressure points in his hips. The logical aspect quickly weakened to his own medicine, Princey pinning his hands above his head with little to no effort.

“Haha! Who's laughing now Logan?”

“Stahahahahahhahahahahp!!! I didhihhhihn’t wahahahahnt this!” Logan was squirming in his grasp, but mustered up his strength to catch Roman by surprise and reach for his sides again. It distracted Roman enough for Logan to slip out of his grasp and tackle Roman once again, resulting in an all out tickle war of dominance. It was not five minutes later, before the two aspects lay sprawled out, reputations completely tossed to the side, panting and giggling happily.

“And I still didn’t disprove your hypothesis!”

Logan let one final chuckle escape his mouth at Roman’s sudden outburst. “As I said, Thomas is split up equally between his sides. No one has more power or strength over another.”

Roman sighed in defeat. “Perhaps it is better that way. We keep each other in check.” Logan watched as Roman struggled to make his way over to his own tired body. With no protest, Logan let Princey wrap his arms around the nerd’s waist, effectively spooning him.

“Although, our initial hypothesis has been abandoned, I believe we have a new claim to experiment on.”

Roman snuggled into his boyfriends shoulder. “Oh yeah? And what is this new claim?”

Logan lightly rested a hand on one of Roman’s. “We will always be stronger together...than apart.”

[scoops404]

I just wrote a fic

The Bait

Summary: Phil drags Dan into another video, but doesn’t give him the full story.

“Hey guys!” Dan feels that Phil waves at the camera, knowing his eyes would be showing his excitement. Dan’s sat behind a not-so-mysterious square pillow on the colorful duvet next to Phil. The things he does for Phil, honestly. The subscribers are going to see the title of the video, they know the ‘guest’ is Dan. Still, Dan can’t say no to Phil’s pouty face when he insists that Dan hide behind the pillow for a dramatic reveal.

“Since you guys loved my video where I took quizzes about myself so much, and then you loved it when Dan did it, we figured, we’d take some quizzes together,” Phil elbows Dan behind the pillow and then grumpily frowns. He supposes that was his cue.

“Ahh! Stop it,” Dan says, sounding a bit muffled and put out.

Phil starts tickling him when the elbowing doesn’t seem to work, “only guests who reveal themselves on time don’t get tickled to death.”

“You could have said,” Dan whines and then throws the pillow off like he’s a vampire and it’s time to wake up out of his coffin. The pillow lands somewhere off camera and almost knocks a plant over, “it is I, guys, Daniel Howell, here to keep our Philly Willy Ding Dong in checkarooni.”

“What language was that even?”

The whine turns into a pout, “you elbow me, you tickle me, you bully me, why am I even here, Phil Lester?”

Dan’s smiling enough to show both dimples so their audience will know he’s only kidding. Sometimes they don’t quite understand when he’s joking.

“You’re here to help me take quizzes, remember?” Phil says, pulling his ancient Macbook up onto his lap where he’s already pre-loaded a quiz. Dan can’t quite make out what type of quiz this is. He supposes it’ll be something dreadful like “Which ‘90’s Boybander is Your Spirit Animal?’

That actually sounds kind of cool, though. He would totally take that quiz in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep and Wikipedia isn’t cutting it anymore.

“You need help taking the quizzes? Isn’t it supposed to be a personality assessment? I think I’ll just confuse the answers,” Dan says, torn between trying to peek over Phil’s shoulder at the quiz for a better look and staring at the camera.

Phil notices the attempt at cheating and drags the laptop over to the other side, “I figure we’ll make a bit of a game out of it. I’ll read the questions to you first and you answer them, but the catch is, you won’t know what the name of the quiz is until the end.”

Dan’s face morphs into appreciation, Phil left that part of the explanation out when he was asking if Dan wanted to be in his video today, “so it’s kinda like how you know the name of the quiz and you can guess the answers that are going to give you the result you want, it’s like countering that urge.”

There goes Phil’s awesome brain again, Dan thinks. This is not the first time he’s conveniently left something out when asking Dan to film a video with him, and it sure won’t be the last. When you have a relationship like Dan has with Phil, there’s enough trust to know that Phil would never put him in a position where he was made to look like a fool. Well, more than gentle teasing. And if it truly is horrendous, then Phil wouldn’t put it up online. He’s also quite handy on editing.

“Yeah, it’s double blind,” Phil says, pointing at the camera, “Science Phil gave you your fact of the day.”

“I don’t think that’s what ‘double blind’ means, but okay, sounds good. And then do you do a quiz and I don’t tell you the name of it?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t loaded one for that because then it’d be cheating,” Phil adjusts how he’s sitting on the bed and looks over to Dan, “ready for the first question?”

Dan brings a hand in front of his face, grasping his fingers together and then bringing his whole fist down like he’s in a bad kung fu movie and he’s focusing his chi or something. “Yeah,” he says, “hit me with the first questy.”

On camera Phil doesn’t roll his eyes, but Dan knows he wants to. Instead, he pulls up the first question, “Okay, the first question is: ‘What do you look for in a friend?’”

“I’ve only got one and you’re looking at him,” Dan says to the camera.

Phil continues to read the question like Dan hadn’t interrupted, “A) Athletic B) Considerate C) Funny D) Loyal,” he turns to look at Dan, bright blue eyes focusing on reading Dan.

Phil could probably take this quiz for Dan with how well he knows him, and vice-versa. Dan’s never felt as known as he does with Phil and he loves it. He loves knowing the man he is spending his life with truly understands him and appreciates all the nuances that make him up, the good and the bad.

He cherishes the compromising they do—on the book and the tour, everyday life things. With Phil as his business partner, boyfriend, and flat mate, they’ve had to make every decision together and that can be very difficult if neither one is willing to compromise.  He’s enjoyed every way in which Phil enriches his life. He loves that when they start a family together one day, he’ll have a new type of partner in Phil and new things to argue about. Knowing that there’s more room to grow with Phil, comforts and excites Dan at the same time. They aren’t stagnant, but they are steady.

“Those are really hard to decide between,” Dan says, “can you read them again?”

Phil reads them again and Dan thinks on it pretty hard. Phil might have to edit some time out here.

“Well athletic is out right off the bat,” Dan says, because he can’t expect a friend to be something that he absolutely doesn’t identify with. Also, athleticism doesn’t speak much about a person’s character, so it’s not that important. Dan doesn’t choose his friends for their aesthetic appeal. His boyfriend of ten years does have a very high aesthetic appeal, though.

“And funny is out. I mean, I like funny people, but that’s not what I need at the core of a friend. Considerate would be nice, but then again, you’ve been leaving socks around and cabinets open since 2012 and I’ve clearly stuck around. So, let’s go with loyalty,” Dan feels confident in his answer.

“Final answer?” Phil asks, looking to Dan then back at the camera.

“Yeah, sure, next question.”

Phil clicks the answer and reads off the next question, “Which of these nights best suits you: A) Clubbing, B) Anime C) Sports D) House Party?”

“Anime,” Dan says with no pause.

Phil laughs a second and when he sees Dan’s questioning look explains, “I already had that one pressed, just needed you to confirm it.”

Dan laughs too, “Yeah, yeah, like that’s not the answer for you too. Go on, read the next one.”

“Which of these YouTubers would you talk to at a party: A) Felix—“

“Let me stop you there,” Dan interrupts, “Is AmazingPhil a choice?”

Phil nods and Dan goes on, “then let’s not kid ourselves. It’ll be you and me in the corner, eating snacks, and talking to a very select few people who are brave enough to approach us with the anti-social vibes I give off.”

“We’re not that bad,” Phil tries to protest, “that usually only happens after we’ve run out of things to talk about with people and we make excuses to go find a drink and then we just don’t return to the conversation, but we’re not quite ready to go home yet.”

Dan concedes, “true. My point still stands. AmazingPhil is my answer.”

Phil doesn’t bother to hide his little smile. After all this time together, he still loves when Dan chooses him above everyone else. Dan’s the same way, he gets a little thrill when Phil sits next to him—at home, in meetings, on the tube, you name it. He loves the validation of Phil making a conscious choice to be close to him.

“Next question, then,” Phil says, “and there are only two questions left.”

“Only five questions? That’s kind of a short quiz.”

“I didn’t want the viewers to get too bored. And this way we can do a couple different quizzes instead of one quiz with forty questions,” Phil says and Dan sees his point. Better to have shorter quizzes for more shenanigans.

“Anyway, the next question is: What reaction do you have when you see a dog: A) What breed is that? B) I want to pet it and I want to pet it right now C) That’s an ugly dog D) I’m allergic, help!”

“Quick answer to that one, obviously, I want to pet the dog. Who could look at any dog and say it’s ugly? What is wrong with humanity,” Dan asks, shaking his head.

Phil looks solemn as well, “Some people need to learn to look beneath the surface and see the true beauty beneath.”

“Besides that being literally the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said, it’s true. I would love my really ugly doggo, and we would play fetch, and do tummy scratches, and cuddles, and give each other kisses. What’s not to love about dogs?”

“There’s everything to love about dogs!” Phil agrees enthusiastically and both of them look at the camera. Phil will probably do some sort of edit here, “Last question, are you ready, Daniel?”

“The last question is am I ready? I mean, yeah?”

Phil gives him his patented I’m sick of your shit look. Dan giggles until Phil can’t hold the face any longer and joins him.

“That was the stupidest joke, Dan.”

“You loved it,” he says, “now give me the real last question.”

“Okay, okay, the last question is,” Dan watches Phil find his spot on the laptop, “What type of partner would you want for long term?”

This is a touchy question, since they aren’t out to their viewers. What type of partner would Dan want? Phil. Always Phil. In every way, Phil.

Someone to spend his day with, who makes him laugh constantly. Someone who understands him, holds him accountable, challenges him and supports him? That’s Phil. Someone who holds the same values as him but thinks just slightly differently? Dan loves the way that Phil’s mind works, it’s how he can be so creative and innovative.

“A) Supportive and Nurturing B) Funny and Loyal C) Challenging and Secure or D) All of the Above,” Phil finishes and, yeah, they’re going to have to re-film this bit because Dan can’t keep from kissing Phil.

“You know you’re all those things, right?” Dan says when they come up for air, “you are literally all those things and more. You’re my best friend, my lover, my partner, my favorite person in the world and I’d do anything to keep you happy and safe and by my side forever.”

Phil blushes like this is the first time they’ve ever kissed and Dan’s said nice things about him. He pecks Dan again quickly, “I love you too. Now, should I start at the answer choices this time?”

Dan lets himself look longingly at Phil for a couple more seconds before he tries to rein it in. He’s not very good at reining it in according to the internet, but he does try.

“The answers will be fine,” he says. Phil reads them off again and this time Dan doesn’t cross the distance and kiss his boyfriend, even though he really wants to. “I’m going to have to go with all of the above. Because why limit myself and why limit my long-term partner, am I right?”

Phil smiles and Dan thinks he’s just on this side of okay for what’s appropriate in a video these days.

“Do you want the answer first, or the name of the quiz first?” Phil asks.

Dan considers the question for a second, “I think it’s funnier if you give me the answer first and then the name of the quiz, but it might not make any sense. So, your choice I guess.”

Phil looks down at his laptop, to look at the answer, “I’m going to give you the name of the quiz first.”

“Okay,” Dan says and he thinks he picks up a hint of nervousness in Phil’s voice. He could be wrong, but just in case, he pushes his knee over so that it’s resting against Phil’s thigh.

“The title of your mystery quiz is ‘Which Youtuber Should You Have a Baby With.”

Dan looks at the camera and shakes his head slowly, a smile forcefully pulled out of him, “Really? Alright then, go on, what’s my result? Who am I having a baby with, Phil?”

He looks over to Phil for the answer and Phil is looking intently at the laptop screen. Phil’s behaving rather odd, Dan thinks, normally this is the part of the video where Phil would be over the top and enthusiastic and speaking quickly and excitedly. Instead, Dan sees that he’s biting his lips and his eyes look uncharacteristically serious for a moment like this.

“The results are in,” Phil eventually says, and turns the laptop screen around to show Dan that the answer, unsurprisingly, says AmazingPhil, “The internet says you should have a baby with AmazingPhil.”

“Of course it would be you,” Dan says, trying to pull it off as a joke for Phil’s video, but their eventual family isn’t really something he wants to joke about. Phil might have to edit this entire quiz out of the video because Dan can’t stand to even entertain the idea of having a family with anyone other than Phil.

“You should have a baby with me,” Phil says again and this time with a tone in his voice that Dan can’t quite place. It’s serious and something in it grabs Dan and forces him to look back at Phil until the strange reverence in Phil’s sharp blue eyes fills Dan to the brim. Phil reaches over and takes Dan’s hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly.

“Please,” he says, “have a baby with me. I’m ready to start a family with you.”

“Is this going in the video?” is all Dan can think to ask, his mind strangely blank from happiness.

“No,” Phil says, holding Dan’s hand with both hands now, “there’s no video. I just wanted to ask you dramatically.”

Dan chuckles because of course Phil wanted to be dramatic. This is the man who forces them to open their Christmas presents slowly and one at a time so that they can watch each other’s faces when the present is revealed. This is the man who read his early teenage chats to the internet and dressed up and did voices for everybody. People like to claim Dan is the dramatic one, and sure, he’ll accept that he’s extra as hell, but Phil has a flare for the dramatic too. It’s one of the many things he loves about him.

“Yes,” he reaches over to kiss Phil, “I would love to have a baby with you and start our family.”

Phil’s tongue peeks through his teeth when he smiles and Dan’s heart melts. He throws Phil’s laptop carefully onto the bed and climbs into his lap to hug him. His arms go around Phil’s shoulders and Phil’s arms rest on his waist and they bask in the presence of one another.

“Phil?” he says a couple minutes later.

“Yeah?”

Dan nuzzles into his neck, “We’re going to be dads.”

Phil presses a soft kiss to Dan’s jaw, “We’re going to be great dads. We already have so many internet children who think so.”

Dan sighs, but he can’t keep the smile off his face all day.

[puchittothelimit]

May I request a fic of Daji and Ao kuang being attracted to eat other but also want to kill each other because they see the other as competition?

Author’s Notes

Fandom: SMITE

Fan-fiction: TranquilHomes

Summary: Ao Kuang’speaceful night is set to be disturbed when he receives an unexpected visitor,set on tipping the world over the edge, though she might be swayed.

Characters: AoKuang, Ao Bing (Non-canon; Small Role), Daji

Warnings: None

“The dah-ring boy dashed into the-,” Ao Bing frowned as hefound himself cut off by his father’s gentle laughter. How was he supposed toimprove his reading if his father kept interrupting him all the time?

Ao Kuang held his tongue upon noticing his child glaring athim and though young with innocent features, it still intimidated him. Afterall, he was his own flesh and blood and Ao Kuang knew what he, himself, wascapable of. “Daring, my son,” He gestured towards the characters in turn on thescripture. The boy pouted and continued.

“The daring boy dashed into the fray, knowing he was strongenough to…” He trailed off, his words becoming stretched into a yawn.

“See? You do know these words. You’re just tired,” He tookthe scroll from upon the bedsheets and rolled it up. He was about the secure itwith a tie before he saw small, outstretched arms, both with open palms out ofthe corner of his eye.

“I want to tie it,” Ao Bing demanded groggily. His fatherwas indifferent to his child’s lack of manners; he was second only to hisfather and Ao Kuang truly admired his son’ complete lack of fearfulness towardshim, and to have him brimming with confidence was what he truly desired.

He handed him both the scroll and the tie silently and watchedhim as he secured the scroll, “I see you’ve been practicing,” By the time AoKuang had finished speaking, the child was done. Ao Bing rolled over in his bedand placed the scroll on a table beside him, but didn’t have the energy toreturn to his original position and instead sunk into the edge of his pillow.“Well done Ao.’” Ao Kuang saw his son’s face light up with pride, though hewould’ve shined brighter had he not been so tired. The light soon faded as heclosed his eyes and dozed off.

Ao Kuang stood from the bed and was about to manoeuvre hisson so he was more central in his bed but he remained poised, having beenhalted by unusual sounds that had perked up his senses. It was like a brush,silken but swift. Ao Kuang wasn’t certain that it was the drapes by the openshutters, blowing in the gentle breeze, but he felt inclined to close them. Ashe neared the opening to the outdoors, he could feel the leftover aroma of theprevious day graze his snout. He came closer still and suddenly, his nostrilswere stung by a drastically different scent: cologne.

He scowled. Someone was out there and he knew it. That’s whyhe didn’t have any security, in or around his palace; He was ever present andever vigilant, and certainly didn’t need anyone else to protect him, or his son.

“Hello Ao,” A smooth voice suddenly caught his senses. Hedrew his sword and immediately thrust the blade in the direction of the noise.His wide gaze, still ridden from the shock of the voice, met the rich, hazeleyes of a smug Daji. “Rude. Don’t you know that the way to make friends is notto point a sword in their face.” She tilted the blade down with her own smallerappendages without much of a thought. Ao Kuang scowled. Her ability to becompletely unfazed by anything he did to threaten her was vexing.

Then, she swaggered right into his son’s room. Had anyoneelse done such a thing, he would’ve slaughtered them on sight. Alas, Ao Kuanghad a certain fondness for her. He told himself it was due to her similardesire for chaos, but truly it ran deeper, emerging from a part of his being henever dared acknowledge.

In his daze, Daji had come closer to his sleeping son. AoKuang’s heart tightened but he did not intervene. She was no threat but yet herpresence was slightly intimidating.

Daji kneeled by the boy’s bed. This being the first timeshe’d seen Ao Kuang’s very own son in person, she was curious as to how much heshared his father’s likeness. Admittedly, whilst curled up in slumber, hedidn’t show his father’s ferocity. She figured it was only a matter of time. Atthe current moment in time, she was more taken by his more bonny features whencompared to his father, “Oh, he looks just like you Ao,” She cooed. There wasno response, but the hair on her tails flared as something brushed againstthem, and a firm hand planted itself on her shoulder and brought her away fromthe bed. She sighed, “You want to touch me? That’ll cost you, you know.”

“Daji, please…” Ao Kuang urged in a hushed tone, as not towake his son.

“I didn’t do anything!” She whined, though she did notprotest; she frequently let herself be led by others which frequently led theminto a false of security.

“With the nature of what you do,” He opened the shuttersthat connected his son’s room to the large, main, open space of his palace and usheredDaji out, “I don’t want you near my son.”

“I’m not going to kill him Ao. Oh my goodness, why would youthink that?”

“I’m not talking about that.”

Daji found herself shocked, which wasn’t common. She slidhis hand off of her shoulder, and turned to face him, “Really? I may be sickand ruthless but I’m not an animal.” She threw herself from the balcony of thehall onto the lower level below, and landed gracefully on a chaise. Ao Kuangtook the stairs.

They settled in a relatively small living space in the hallmade grand by the décor. Ao Kuang approached a small table with beverages andDaji perked up, “Oh! Tea please,” She chirruped, earning an audible groan fromher unwilling host, and a cup of tea.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Ao Kuangsettled into his own seat. His voice carried only a little contempt for theperson making themselves at home in his palace. Though she had been here manytimes before, she had been invited, when Ao Kuang wanted something. Now, she’dshown up seemingly wanting something.

“I wanted to see you and your son! I haven’t seen you sincebefore he was born, and I wanted to see what all of the fuss is about.Everyone’s having babies Ao. It’s astonishing. Susano and Nu Wa have had alittle boy. Everyone’s raving about Osiris and Isis expecting. And there wasthat scandalous affair with Hades-.”

“Ugh. Why do you always insist on lying about your trueintentions? I know you’ll reveal them eventually.”

“It’s called teasing, Ao. Does it not turn you on?” Dajishifted in her seat, raising an eyebrow.

“I find that it irks me,” He turned away.

“Good. You’re so hot when you’re mad,” She cooed, clearly exaggerating.“But seriously, why is everyone having babies? I’d like to say I feel left outbut it sounds like there’s way too much hassle involved. Especially with Isis;the Egyptians are all over her.”

“Good time to have them, I suppose,” Ao Kuang reliedquickly, still wanting Daji to reveal why she was here.

“Hardly Ao, not with every pantheon about to snap.”

“Oh, please,” He rolled his eyes at her continued over-dramatization,“The Greeks have always hated everybody because they think they’re the oldest.It doesn’t mean Zeus is going to let Ares out of his cage anytime soon.”

“Have you been living in a cave Ao?”

“Daji, I’ve been around a lot longer than you. Things havealways been this way; The Japanese are quiet because they have their ownproblems, as do the Mayans: Ra’s old and soft which makes the rest of hispantheon much the same: The Greeks and the Romans have always been divided butno one’s asserted their dominance quite yet: The Norse are cocky and rightlyso, being the most prepared for an attack; The Hindu’s still have their ownworshippers so they don’t need a war to prove themselves. It’s all petty anduntil someone gets a real problem, everything will remain stagnant.”

Daji chucked, “Not for long,” She chimed.

He sighed, ��Daji, I’m telling you-.”

“And I’m telling you, things are going to change.” Suddenly,her delicate voice was stern and her smile had almost disappeared.

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?” Ao Kuang’s voice wasas stern as hers, slightly hushed, aware that he may not supposed to know whatshe might say next.

“I may be pretty but I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were.”

“Oh, I know! I’m well informed is what I’m saying.”

“And well involved I suspect.”

“Clever.” She flitted over to him, settling herself on hislap gracefully in contrast.

Ao Kuang took a breath and gently placed his hands upon herbody with her aid. He dared not resist. Taking a deep breath, he spoke softly,“What’s your involvement in all of this?”

“I haven’t done anything! Well, nothing unusual. Justwaiting for the soldiers that want to ‘let loose’ so I can do what I do best.”

“Soldiers. So, war?”

“Inevitable, once I do what I also do best.”

“Who have you been hired to kill?”

Daji tried her best not to swoon. He knew her far too well,“Oh, no one you know. Don’t worry.”

“Then surely there’s no harm in telling me, if I don’t knowthem,” He pried, shifting his hands slightly.

“I suppose,” She pouted, leaning in closer to him, “There’san old God, even older than you, who wants to bring about a war-.”

“Older than me?”

“Yes,” She sighed.

“Who?” He interjected again.

“Oh, some Celtic God. I can’t remember,” She blurted out,wanting to continue her story. But still, she was halted.

“The Celts have been extinct for as long as I can remember.”

“Are you sure they’re not just quiet?” Ao Kuang tilted hishead in recognition and finally shut up. “Anyway, I’ve been hired to kill thembefore they do whatever it is they want to do. But, I know better. There willbe no peace even if they’re gone; their pantheon will retaliate.”

Ao Kuang paused and then asked, slightly fearful, “Youthink?”

Daji was quick to pick up on his worry, “What’s wrong?” Shehopped off of his lap, so she could look him in the eye, but he wouldn’t faceher. He frowned, and so did she.

“When do you have to carry it out?” He said suddenly.

“I’m keeping an eye on her. If she looks like she’s going tostrike, then so will I,” She stated plainly. Ao Kuang still wouldn’t face her,so she tucked her fingers beneath his chin and brought his gaze up, “Why youwant to know?”

He couldn’t hide the anguish in his eyes. It only worriedher; it was so unlike him to be apprehensive for anything. She waited patientlyfor him to respond, a privilege not awarded to most in her presence. His eyesdarted to the shutters that led to his son’s room. Taking a deep breath, hefinally spoke, “Stall for as long as you can. If she makes a move, try todisrupt her.”

Daji forgot that she was holding her breath as he spoke.What he was asking was completely out of her control. She was not trained inespionage; she was a messy assassin. Clearly, he was worried for the safety ofhis son, understandably, though it was a little irrational while Ao Bing hadnever even met her target. Alas, she reassured him, “No harm, will come to himAo Kuang,” Her voice firm, “You and I will both make sure of that.”

He shook his head, grabbing her shoulders gently but with ajolt, anxiety gripping his body, “No, I-. Thank you. I mean I want him to havehis childhood, entirely innocent and filled with only joy.” He caught her nodher head, a feel of respect about her movement. His body relaxed. As long as heknows that I’ll try, Daji thought. He continued, “I don’t want war, not yet.”

“Not yet?” Her tails quivered.

“Not yet, no, but soon. Eventhen, it won’t come soon enough; the world needs to be rid of certain entities,”His eyes spied an incoherent spot in the room that was missing a pillar.

Author’s Notes

I might actually have fallen in love with Daji. Is it badthat I ship her with Ao’ now?

Hope you enjoy @art-love-videogames! I certainly did whilstwriting this!

Please give this story a like and reblog if you enjoyed it! It really helps me out! Thanks for reading!