#there have been multiple moments last year where twitch has been getting worse and worse for me to stream on there

[clownkiwi]

i keep hearing about the shit going on with twitch, do you plan on switching to a different platform or what do you plan on doing?

wait did something else happen with twitch now or just. in general

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Power Imbalance, Mind Control

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Zhongli, despite his nature as the Archon of Geo, isn't as restrictive as one might think at first. Quite the opposite, actually. He'll say it himself, as he forces you to stay still in his strong arms, trapped inside his Adeptal Domain. He wishes he could give you more privileges, but he simply can't trust you.

Of course, you press him about this, you say he can trust you. With no other option but to fight for any scraps of freedom you can get, you're willing to grovel on your knees for anything, as much as you hate yourself for doing so.

At the sight of your desperation, Zhongli has to mask the way the corners of his lips twitch up, eyes predatory, draconic instinct seeping through a human facade. With the flick of a hand, a thick roll of paper pops into existence in front of your head. The very end of it unfurls, revealing what looks like a place where a signature is written.

For a contract.

Sign it, Zhongli says, and he will grant you multiple privileges listed in the contract: he'll allow you to leave his Adeptal Domain when possible, write to your family and friends, leave you alone for a set time if you so desire, and more listed in the contract.

Your hand itches for the crystalline, amber pen floating next to the contract, beckoning you to write your name, but you control the urge. You've already been played for a fool by a foe you once called a friend, and you won't fall for his foul ploys any longer.

So, you pull the contract to unfurl it. The paper flows like water, gushing across the floor like a wild stream down the bed to the floor, across the bedroom, through the door, into the kitchen, continuing on, and on, and on. It seems like days go by until finally, the contract is fully unscrolled.

Zhongli is less than pleased at your wariness, a disappointed sigh echoing through the still room. He had hoped you would be less uncooperative, but he will allow you a day to read the contents of the contract. After all, time is of the utmost importance, even for the immortal.

You glare at the god, but know that you cannot allow anger to cloud your mind. With only a day to read such a dense document, there's no time to spare.

When you look down to start reading the contract itself, though, your eyes widen in confusion.

The words on the paper are almost kaleidoscopic, warping and twisting and forming new phrases every second. One moment, you think you can read "the"; the next, those same letters have become "remain". Looking back up, Zhongli has a pitying smile on his face. "Dearest treasure, do you see now that this game is a fruitless endeavor?" He asks, a hand reaching to brush against your jaw, sliding tenderly across your skin. "I would not lie to you about these things. I have never lied to you," he says.

For a moment, you almost mistake his tone as kind, like you almost mistook everything about Zhongli—a polite, cultured gentleman who turned out to be a possessive, obsessed dragon—until you realize how patronizing his words are. You want to curse him to the Abyss and back, but hold back your hatred. "I'd prefer to read the contract." You look back down, and begin attempting to decipher the undulating paragraphs.

Hours pass by, and you've made no progress. Through it all, Zhongli has stayed by your side, whispering cloying words in an attempt at disarming your defenses. You've managed to stay strong in the face of his unending patience though.

But while you're smart, Zhongli is a god, with thousands of years of knowledge ingrained in his mind. And he knows eventually, one argument will break you down. So, he keeps trying.

"Time is running out, my sweet. But before this offer disappears, I will give you one last chance to sign," he says. "Besides, even if I am being dishonest about the contents of the contract, can things really get worse than this? At least by signing the contract, there's a chance your circumstances may improve."

His logic is sound, drowning out the dissonant thoughts scrambling your mind. You hate the idea of agreeing with Zhongli, but at this point, it's hard to see a reason not to sign it.

With trembling fingers, you pick up the pen. It's slightly warm in your hand, the way a rock in the afternoon sun would be. Smiling like he knew this would happen all along, Zhongli makes a motion with one hand, causing the contract to begin rolling up. After waiting several moments, all that's left unrolled is the space where you will sign your name.

The pen slashes against the paper, marring it with an ink-black scar that reads your name.

Then you feel it. The lightness in your chest, as though you're untethered to the world around you. Thoughts in your mind begin to pop like soap bubbles, fear dissipating into pure nothingness. You can hardly hear your spouse chuckling over the absolute blankness blanketing your mind.

Yes, Zhongli would allow you many more freedoms now. After all, you had sold your mind, body, and soul to him. Escape was impossible. You were clay in his hands, and he would mold you into a perfect, obedient lover.

[buddieisgoingcanon25]

Wow, I knew when Tommy said this was one of his most powerful podcasts and that R was open, raw, and honest that we were in for something great. I really was not expecting him to open up this much about his mental health. Did you all see that moment when he took the moment - and it was a really long pause - where he thought about if he was going to actually share this deeply, personal thing? You can see it on his face and in his eyes in that moment when he made that decision he was going to share his failed suicide attempt and where he was with his mental health. 

People are going to hate me for saying the rest of this, but I'm putting it out there. This has me side-eying C so much! Seven years is right around the time when they met. We know that they met at the end of 2017, which would be right after his suicide attempt and when his mental health was still very fragile. That post announcing C’s pregnancy has a whole new meaning now. He truly thought he was getting a second chance at life and he was going to take it and put his all into making this work. And he tried multiple times to make that relationship work, and we know now that it was never going to work between them. They are not compatible! 

His mental health was going through the wringer with her, but he was willing to put up with her because she gave him the kids. Her personality and her beliefs do not mix with what someone like him was going through. R specifically bringing up Twitch makes me think that was his final straw. He didn't want to get to the point where he could leave his kids, and she fucking hates him for figuring that out. Her belief that men should not go through mental health crises all but proves that. 

Good lord, knowing that he was going through it with Twitch’s death and the way she has thrown shade at him since tells me what type of person she is, and it isn't good. She has tried to put herself in the best light every step of the way and now this just makes her look worse than she did. The way she was on social media after Twitch’s death and that infamous Valentine’s Day post shows how toxic she was and still is. The house must have been a war zone during that time! People talked about how she wasn't putting R first when he was clearly going through it last year and her attitude during the fake reconciliation looks worse now too. 

He looks so much happier now that his romantic relationship with C is over. He was drowning in that relationship and he made that choice to live for his kids. That takes courage! We can see she was never going to change and I think R figured that out before it was too late. He saw what the worst-case scenario could be, and he rather put his kids through their parents breaking up than living without their father. That was a very brave decision he made and I hope that it helps others in similar situations. 

❤️💔 I’m feeling for Ryan today. What a brave souls for saying what he did in that interview.

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Extra

Day 8, bonus round for the challenge created by @cursebreakerfarrier. While it is focused on Scarlett Tempest she isn't actually a participating believe it or not.

Professor David Willows @that-scouse-wizard is having a hard time writing a letter to Scarlett's parents and he turns to a fellow professor for advice.

Phil Baker in mention belongs to @samshogwarts

Professor David Willows crumpled up another piece of paper, swearing under his breath. He had honestly never believed he would meet a child as bad as Scarlett Tempest and with two kids, he honestly believed he had seen it all. If anything he had placed bets with his wife on who would be the most mischievous or the rebel based on the parents. To his surprise he already lost some good money since he bet on Talia’s kid who apparently was actually a good student.

Scarlett on the other hand had been chaos. Her snarky attitude and colorful choice of words had only gotten worse with each passing year. Detention did nothing to tame her, if anything it was as if it made it worse.

Sighing he tried again, the anger still bubbling in his chest. Not only had she gotten in a physical fight a few days prior, she had flashed a ghost and after that she disrupted his class multiple times, flipping him off, cursing and he just had enough.

Worse of it was that she actually was a decent student in his class and he knew if she only tried a bit she would be even better.

“I am writing to you in order to advise you that your daughter IS THE SPAWN ON SATAN in case you didn’t already know.” Frowning, he continued despite knowing full well he would not be sending it, however he needed to let out some of the frustration “She swears more than a sailor, trash talks everything and everyone, I’m honestly surprised more people don’t try to hex her.” Throwing that away he decided to try again later and instead joined the professors in the lounge.

There he found Talbott, reading up on essays from students “Do you have a moment?” he asked him as he approached.

“One second please, let me finish this.” As he was reading the last lines, David went over to the window to look at the students and prepare a coffee. As he did so, he saw Scarlett wearing an outfit that was not proper school attire, followed by Phil Baker with his camera. Releasing a heavy sigh, he decided he actually didn’t want to know “Alright, how can I help?”

Looking over at Talbott, David finally spoke “You have miss Tempest in your class don’t you?” Talbott humming in response “How does she act?”

Talbott tried to not roll his eyes at the mention of her name “She’s very spoiled, entitled and has no filter.”

“And how do you manage to deal with her?”

Getting up, he also went to pour himself some tea “How about you tell me what she did and we’ll go from there.”

Scoffing, David inhaled deeply “How about we go with what she didn’t do, the list is shorter.” Talbott actually nodding at his words “All things considered she’s actually a fairly good student, but her attitude leaves much to be desired.”

“Who do you partner her up with?”

David’s brows raised slightly at the sudden question “Well I usually partner her up with top students so she can learn from them.”

Talbott asked a few names, David nodding “Well you see, this is where you’re wrong. Not because they are better, but because first off they are male and secondly their attitude isn’t also the best.”

“What?”

“They are in a sense similar to her, not as bad granted, but they clash. Also she hates men, she made it perfectly clear. You and me included. Why do you think she fares better when there’s a woman teaching the class?” Glancing past Talbott, David felt his eye twitch as he saw Scarlett again, his colleague following his gaze “It’s safe to pair her up with him if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Actually I was thinking what is she wearing?”

Smirking, Talbott tried not to laugh “Stop asking yourself questions you don’t want answers to.”

Once David got back to writing the letter to her parents, he was actually more calm.

“I am writing to you in order to request a meeting so we can discuss some events related to your daughter. While this does not concern her grades I am afraid that if she continues to have the same attitude during and outside of classes, she might actually miss out on several opportunities…”

[huntertales]

Part One: Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,223.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

NOTE: Yes, this is a repost. I edited a few things around because I didn’t like it when I read it over. Took me a few days to actually get around to doing such thing. Sorry about that, but please enjoy!

Dean wasn’t sure if he should be concerned at the state he found you in when he walked into the kitchen this morning, or take a picture to tease you about this later. It seemed you were in the process of eating breakfast before you somehow fell asleep at the table, your head cradled in your arms as you quietly snored, notifying Dean that you were in a deep sleep. You hadn’t taken a hunt in the past couple of days since coming back from New York, giving you and the boys a chance to catch up on some sleep between looking for jobs and trying to figure out how to fix the mess Metatron made. While you helped when you could, your sleep hadn’t been disturbed all that much. Dean thought this might have been the first time since you started hunting you’ve gotten a healthy amount of sleep. 

He could tell because you slept like the dead last night. Dean had to lovingly, but quite forcefully, push you off his chest so he could get a jump start on the day. Normally it was you who slipped out of bed first and Dean eventually got himself up. Instead you rolled over to your side of the bed and slept for another twenty minutes before you got up. You seemed your usual self when you woke up this morning, eyes half-shut and grumpy, signaling to him you forced yourself up against your own will. On mornings like this Dean learned to wait until your first cup of caffeine to speak a word to you. It seemed you had just done that from how the pot was still hot and plenty full for everyone else. But for some reason, you were still exhausted and in need of a little cat nap. 

“Sweetheart?” Dean quietly spoke out to you, making sure to keep his voice at a soft enough level so he didn’t disturb you from your slumber. Normally you were a light sleeper on a good day. He made his way over to the table and leaned over to see your peacefully sleeping face. You were out cold. His lips twitched into a small smile at how adorable you looked. Dean knew he was going to get it from what he did next, but to hell with the consequences. He never got the chance to prank you like he did with Sam. 

Dean made his way over to the table with a bowl in hand and a little too roughly dropped it down, causing you to wake up abruptly and with a rush of panic. The man snickered to himself behind his coffee cup as he watched you frantically look around the kitchen wondering where the noise came from. When you realized who was to blame for your rude awakening, there was a few second delayed reaction before you rolled your eyes. 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Dean greeted you, smiling from the way you tried to fix your disheveled hair and smooth down your wrinkled top. “Did I disturb you?’

“What? No.” You mumbled. You rubbed your eyes like a tired child and forced yourself to keep a yawn from escaping your mouth. Sam happened to come into the kitchen right as you dropped your arms into your lap. The younger Winchester gave you a slightly confused reaction at your groggy demeanour. Your face scrunched up in annoyance from his lingering stare. “What are you looking at, Sasquatch?” 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Sam asked you out of concern, wondering if a bad nightmare kept you up most of the hours. None of you were strangers to restless nights due to a wandering mind that went to dark places you traveled to. Your entire life was a living nightmare, your past troubles liked to come and haunt you when you tried to sleep. But it seemed that wasn’t the case for you. 

“On the contrary, she slept like a drunk baby. I had to pry her off me this morning.” Dean answered his brother’s question for you on his behalf. “And I caught her napping on the table.” 

“Before either one of you waste your breath, I’m fine. It’s just…I’m fine.” You reassured the younger Winchester before he could bombard you with his typical worried expression and a follow up question. Despite your lack of a proper answer to explain your exhaustion, you didn’t want them to worry. They liked to over exaggerate things when it came to you. It's always been that way. Lately you didn’t want them looming over your shoulder, asking you every few minutes if you were feeling okay. Before either one of the brothers could drag out this conservation farther, you quickly changed the subject. “How’s Kevin? Has he found anything yet?” 

“Jack. He’s on about four days of no sleep.” Dean said. He grabbed the box of cereal and poured himself a bowl while Sam joined the both of you at the table after fixing himself a cup of coffee. “He looks worse than you.” 

“Dean, please. You know Sammy doesn’t like it when you flirt with me out in the open like this.” You replied with a sarcastic remark with a little hope the boys might think you were in decent shape after all if you were able to keep up with the petty banter. Despite how you looked. Somehow you thought you might feel worse. “What about Crowley? Do you think he might be lying about the whole ‘Metatron spell being irreversible’ thing?” 

“Crowley lie?” Dean pretended to sound shock at such a possibility, causing Sam to scoff between sips of his coffee. While the situation was grim, there was a small silver lining that you might be able to use to your advantage over the demon. “I do know one thing. Next time that junkie’s jonesing for a hit of blood, we got leverage.” You were about to agree with the plan, knowing it was better than anything you had, but the words failed to come out of your mouth. Instead a rather loud yawn escaped first. “Seriously, you want a pillow?” 

You rolled your eyes from your boyfriend’s concern hidden behind his behavior. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look so good, Y/N.” Sam shared his concern along with his brother’s. He’d been silent for most of the conversation since settling beside you. It didn’t take much observations to see you weren’t looking that great as of lately. He was starting to grow uneasy with the possibility that there might be something wrong with you. Something deeper than you realized. “Do you feel like you’re getting sick?”

“I’m not sick. I just—I feel like my battery can’t recharge.” You admitted to them, trying to explain how you felt to the best of your ability to them. “I don’t know. It’s probably just stress or something.” 

You reached for your bowl of soggy cereal when the room fell into a moment of silence. The brothers glanced over at one another from hearing how you felt. A string of unspoken words were said between them as they processed what you explained about your current situation. You were being held together from the inside out with duct tape and angel grace. Things weren’t moving quick or as efficient as they wanted. Despite wanting to talk about it, Ezekiel remained silent on a possible reassuring update, choosing to stay silent. 

You scooped up a spoonful of flakes and stretched out your head to take a bite, only stopping at the sound of a cell phone going off. Dean reached a hand inside his pocket to pull out his phone after realizing it was his own and answered the call. The person on the other line was a familiar one to the boys, you however gave the older Winchester a slightly confused expression at hearing the name he greeted. 

”Who’s Sheriff Mills?” You whispered to Sam, wondering why the name sounded a bit familiar, just not enough for you to put a face to a name. 

“Jody Mills? The sheriff up in Sioux Falls? We worked on a case with her years back with all the dead people rising in town?” Sam tried refreshing your memory. You thought about it for a second before shaking your head, coming up blank. He tried to resist the urge to pass his brother a look of disbelief as he continued on to try and jog your memory. “She went on a blind date with Crowley and nearly died.” 

“Oh. 

 Jody.” You finally figured out who was on the other line, your fingers snapping at your eureka moment before the call could be put on speaker for all of you to talk to the woman to see what she was calling about. 

“Uh…I got a bit of an oddball to pitch your direction.” Jody said. You leaned forward to listen to the call better as you placed your elbow on the table to cradle your head. For a second you swore you heard a faint sound of something crashing in the distance. “A small town I cover outside of Sioux Falls—only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week, four people go missing.” 

“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean asked the woman. 

“I’ve got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night.” She told you the key detail that made her think of the boys and call them for some extra help. 

“Huh.” You glanced over at the boys with a rather intrigued expression as the possibility of another case for you to dig a little bit deeper into to see if it might be a hunt. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s definitely our kind of weird.” 

+ + +

 You and the boys packed up your things and made the drive up to South Dakota to visit the sheriff. You figured it wouldn't hurt to keep yourselves busy while Kevin worked himself to the bone with the tablet. All of you decided to meet at the latest crime scene and go from there while you caught up on details. You were happy to be out of the bunker and moving around. You hoped going back on another hunt might give you a second wind. There was nothing better than a couple of missing people to get the adrenaline pumping. You just wished you knew what was making you so damn tired. You bit back another yawn when the Impala pulled into the parking lot of some diner. 

You were the last one to get out when Dean parked the car next to the sheriff’s truck, still moving a bit slower than you intended. The boys greeted Jody with wide smiles and tight hugs after seeing her again. You slammed the backseat door shut and smoothed out your outfit before approaching the woman, giving her a friendly smile. However it seemed she wasn’t expecting to see you. Your smile faltered slightly at the confused and startled expression that crossed her face. It seemed the boys failed to mention about your resurrection from the dead when they called to see how she was after everything that went down earlier this year with her blind date with the King of Hell. 

“What’s wrong, Jody? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Dean joked with the woman, finding her reaction at seeing someone who thought was dead was rather funny. She turned her head to look over at the man, demanding an explanation. “Yeah. We felt the same way when I saw her again. It’s a long, messy story.” 

“I’m 

 a ghost. Or a zombie.” You reassured the woman before she could try and process how you were somehow alive. “It really is a messy story. Short version of it all: not really dead, just lost my memory and thought I was someone else for two years.”

“It never is easy with you boys, huh?” Jody felt the need to ask. You could hear the humor in her voice at the trouble that seemed to follow them. “Anyway, it’s nice to see you again, Y/N. Glad you’re not dead.” 

“Me too.” You agreed with the woman, smiling at how her personality peeked through her words. From what you remembered about the woman all those years ago when Bobby was still alive, you liked her. And the things the boys mentioned about her during the drive here made you think she was going to be a good friend to have on your side. “Luckily, I’m back and ready to hunt down whatever is kidnapping these people.” 

“That’s the spirit. So, car was right over there, ass over teakettle.” Jody gestured over to the other side of the parking lot where the abduction took place, all that remained was the broken glass from the car that was currently being swept up by a maintenance worker. “Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V, I’d tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I’ve seen and now heard…” 

“Nothing’s impossible.” You said. You opened up the case file to one of the missing people and skimmed through the information, wondering if there might be something important here to make note of while the boys went through the others. "How does this match up with other missing people?” 

“Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene—literally.” Jody said. 

“So, the first vic was a pastor?” Sam asked, wondering if there was another more solid connection to the rest of the victims. 

“Yeah. Door of his study was punched in. And the next two—an engaged couple.” Jody explained the case in better detail. You looked down at the case file Dean laid open on the trunk of the Impala and the black and white photograph attached. All of the victims appeared to be the small town folk who were innocent at first glance. Someone went out of their way to snatch them up. 

“Locked bedroom window was ripped open.” Dean noted the similarly strange and destructive pattern between each kidnapping. 

‘And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.” Jody added. 

“Any other connection among them?” Sam wondered. 

“Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith church here.” Jody said. You narrowed your eyes slightly while you thought of the possibility of what might be might be to blame for this if there was a religious connection to all of this. You and the boys dealt with something like this a little similar earlier in the year. “My church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.” 

Dean hummed his response at hearing the sheriff and her new found spiritual faith. You tossed him a dirty look at his reaction to the woman’s faith to God. She had every right to believe in whatever she wanted, even if you didn’t feel the same way. Jody seemed to have picked up on the same feelings you had when she asked him what that was all about. “I didn’t peg you for churchy.” 

“Yeah. You know…choking on the ladies’ room floor ‘cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.” Jody gave the man a truthful response to her sudden urge to join a church. You offered a weak smile when you saw her eyes direct over to you. “And seeing someone you were told was dead doesn’t help, either.” 

“Jody, are you sure you’re ready to jump back into the fray?” Dean asked the woman in a concerned tone of voice, knowing all the things she witnessed last year and the passing of Bobby didn’t help the woman. But it seemed he underestimated her. 

“This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. More I know, better armed I’ll be.” Jody gave an honest response to the man’s question. She was a sheriff, after all. If she wanted to protect her town from creatures that went bump in the night, she was going to have some practice in order to do that. You had a feeling from what Jody witnessed over the years, it was going to take a lot to scare the woman to the core. 

“Okay, so, we have missing church folk and super strength.” Sam summarized what all of you knew at the moment so far about the case. He decided to take a shot in the dark, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to throw his theory out there. “Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing.” 

“Wh—angels?” Jody repeated the creature the younger Winchester spoke out in the open like it was nothing. She looked at all of you with disbelief at how casual you were being. “You’re joking.” 

“Don’t get your pants on fire.” Dean said, stopping the woman from becoming thrilled at hearing about creatures she thought only existed in the bible. “They suck.” 

“You said there was a witness.” Sam said, circling back to what Jody mentioned earlier. 

“Yeah, well…” Jody shrugged at the person who was waiting for you to talk to them. She didn’t seem too set on the idea they were going to be any help to you. “More or less.” 

You and the boys decided to get a booth inside the restaurant while Jody rounded up the witness so you could speak to them. You sipped the coffee you ordered out of politeness and patiently waited. A few minutes later Jody arrived with your witness, a homeless man who most likely camped out near the place from the looks of him. You offered a friendly smile when the man's eyes scanned across the table to see what this was all about. Jody pulled up a chair while she ushered the man to take the seat in the booth next to you when you slid over to be close to the window. He set his coffee cup down to the table, seeming comfortable enough to give his side of the story. 

“Okay, Slim.” Jody said. “My friends here want to talk to you about the missing girl.” 

“Honor. Her name was Honor.” The man started off by giving the missing girl’s name, indicating that he knew her on some personal level. And it seemed he remembered her from the kind behavior given to someone like him. “Nice girl. Always left me meatloafs.” 

“Slim, why don’t you tell us what you saw that night?’ Sam asked the man, hoping to get to the reason why he was here in the first place. 

“I heard a big noise, got woke, and there’s somebody over there lifting a car up—like this.” Slim demonstrated what he witnessed last night, lifting up his arms the way he saw the stranger did to the car, as if the several ton machine weighed nothing. 

“And did you happen to see who it was?” You asked him another question. 

“I was too far. But I saw a light go off.” Slim made sure to add a small detail he thought was important enough to mention. Sam guessed it was a white light, “Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was—she wasn’t there.” 

“Could you think of anything else?” Dean hoped for a little bit more from the man, but Slim shook his head before he looked down to his cup of coffee. He was helpful enough for you and the boys at figuring out what you might be tracking. Dean pulled out a small wad of cash from his pocket and handed over a twenty dollar bill to Slim, hoping to give him a hot meal for his help. “Well Slim, thank you for your time.” 

Slim happily pocketed the money and went on his way with the cup of coffee he came over with. You let out a quiet sigh from trying to figure out the proper direction you should be going to figure all of this out. While you didn’t have much at the moment, Slim’s description of the kidnapping might have been something for you and the boys to go off on. 

“Okay. So, no white light. No angel.” Sam said, feeling confident enough to cross the creature off the list at the endless other monsters to blame. 

“Has anybody talked to the victims’ families?’ Dean asked the sheriff. 

“It’s next on my list.” Jody answered. 

“Okay, and you said that they were all part of the same church?” Dean’s question was replied with a nod of the head from Jody. This connection, strong or weak as it might be, was the only one you had going for you as a possible hunting ground of where this monster was picking their victims. It was better than anything. Your lips stretched into a frown when Dean looked over at you. “Ready to get your worship on?”

+ + +

You and the boys decided to change out your clothes meant for posing as federal agents in favor of something more casual. The church all four of your victims seemed the usual run of the mill place of worship. You pretended to play along as the new people in town interested in joining to get a better understanding of how things worked. The woman who helped give you a tour of the place was a little too friendly and squeaky clean for your liking. She smiled in delight when you and Dean introduced yourselves as a happy couple "engaged to be engaged" with his little brother tagging along.

You roamed around the church hand in hand with Dean while Bonnie, your overly peppy tour guide, told you all the things Good Faith church offered to its members and the public. Usual things like Sunday school and charities for the homeless. You decided to have a little fun and play into the whole loving couple when Bonnie mentioned the church was perfect for weddings as well. You smiled at her when she occasionally turned to see you and Dean whispering to each other, acting like a couple of crazy kids in love with a religious ceremony in mind. It wasn't that far off from the truth. You did love Dean, and while you wanted to marry him someday, a church would be the last place you'd choose to do it. 

After the tour was complete, the four of you made your way to Bonnie's office where she took a seat at her desk before gesturing for the rest of you to follow with the few chairs she had available. Sam missed out when his brother swiftly snatched the chair next to yours, causing Dean to smirk in victory while the younger man awkwardly looked around to find another seat and pulled it up next to the desk.

"We hope you enjoyed the tour." Bonnie said, the smile she greeted you with felt as if it never left her face. It was starting to make your cheeks hurt at the welcoming disposition she carried on. "Any questions before we get you all registered?"

"Yeah. Uh, look," You pretended to be apprehensive from the subject you were about to approach after she had been so kind to you. "Ms. Futchko—"

"Oh, please, dear." Bonnie quietly laughed at the formalities and corrected to you something more casual, wanting to treat this situation like you were among friends. "Bonnie will do just fine." 

"We love the church. We do." You cushioned the strange questions you were about to ask her, deciding to pretend and act as if you were a concerned citizen wondering what you might be getting yourself into. "But...well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing. And while my boyfriend likes to think he's Superman," You flashed a quick smile as you reached out to squeeze Dean's hand before letting it rest there to continue milking the little performance on sharing your fake concerns. "We’ve been talking in private about it. And to be honest…that kind of scares us.” 

"Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer." Bonnie told you, placing a hand to her chest to try and give all of you a better peace of mind. It seemed she was worried about her fellow churchgoer, just in the way a little too religious person thought was the best form of action. Leaving it up all to the chance God would intervene and save the day. "And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and center in our prayers." 

"What a relief." Dean let out a breath at the reassuring sounding news, making Bonnie's smile return after it disappeared shortly from the change in conversation. "Now, you must have been close to them." 

"Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond." Bonnie. Dean pretended to be intrigued at hearing such a thing when he asked more about it. "Our chastity group. ‘Abstinence Purifies Us.’” 

You pretended to turn your head to another direction when you scratched your nose, the easiest way to sneak an eye roll of frustration at hearing the new connection to the victims. Out of anything, you should’ve seen the virginity angle coming from where you were. 

"Wow." Sam laughed and smiled, faking interest about such a group. "You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?"

“I’m afraid it’s members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal." Bonnie apologized for the inconvenience after offering so many things for you to join, but it seemed this one was off limits for obvious reasons. You, never being the one to miss an opportunity, jumped to it before either one of the boys could back out. 

“Then count us in.” You said, lightly smacking your thigh as you grinned. 

"Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt." Bonnie softly laughed in delight at hearing your eager enthusiasm to join a group, intidicating to her that the three of you were good Christians. You mirrored her behavior as you smiled over at Dean when he squeezed your hand a little too roughly, wondering what the hell you got yourselves into. "I'll be back in a jiff with the papers." 

Bonnie wasted no time jumping up from her seat and heading to another room across the way, allowing you to watch what she was doing. She opened up a filing cabinet and shuffled around some papers to find what she was looking for. Your attention fell back to Dean when you felt him softly smack your arm. 

“A chastity group?” Dean asked you, wondering if this was really how you wanted to spend your afternoon. And why you needed to drag him into your plan. You knew he would love to do anything else than listen to a bunch of horny virgins go on about temptations and sins brought on by the world. 

"It's not a bad idea." Sam seemed to have agreed with your plan of action, figuring out the same possible pattern you had. If you knew who was in the group, you might have a better chance at saving others from going missing. "If all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins." 

"And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire." Dean added another little detail that went together with the virginity part. Something you've dealt with before. "So, what are you guys thinking, dragons?"

You never got the chance to finish the conversation when you saw Bonnie return back with the forms in hand. You cleared your throat and went back to acting casual as if that’s what you had been doing the entire time she was gone during the short period of time. You forced yourself to smile again when she handed you over a clipboard with a piece of paper attached. 

"You can just sign here, and your purification can begin." Bonnie instructed you, letting you glance down at the piece of paper. You read the title of the paper and slowly your expression fell as to what you were about to promise. Something you lost several years ago. You bit your bottom lip when Sam mentioned the pledge, only to be taken by someone who had never had intercourse before. "It's a commitment to your virginity." 

"I don't think we can really un-ring that bell." Dean thought he was funny with the innocent sounding joke, deciding to humor himself. Bonnie, however, stared at the man with a blank expression. It hadn't dawned on her just yet why you couldn't sign right away. "You know what I mean?"

A moment of silence fell across the room as Dean's smile faded away when Bonnie continued to stare at the man with eyes too wide for his personal comfort. Slowly, the wheels in her head started turning, making her realize the sins you've committed. "Oh. I see." Bonnie's gaze quickly darted away from you and Dean specifically, as if she was trying to hide her disappointment. However, like the good Chrisitan that she was, the woman offered you a chance at redemption. "Well...if you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then you'll be born again as a virgin in His eyes." 

"So, you just hit the 'virginity do-over' button, and all is good with the man upstairs?" Dean's question meant to come off as sincere and curious, but he had a way of coming off a little igorent at times. Sometimes he didn't understand the kind of people he was dealing with and how to adapt.

"It's not a button." Bonnie corrected the man. Her tone of voice fell into a softer, and yet slightly colder one as she defended her personal views in a way to make him better understand. "And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage. Isn't that something you want? To be pure for each other until your wedding night, the way God intended?”

You raised your brow slightly from the way Bonnie tried to guilt trip you for doing something thought of as a sin. Premarital sex was the least horrible thing someone could do. However, just to get yourself into this damn group, you decided to pretend and feel remorseful for a second. You looked over to Dean, the both of you nodding your head and shared matching smiles. "Well, you had me at 'clean slate.' Right, sweetheart?" Dean asked you, clicking his pen to be the first one to sign. "Let's do this." 

You and the boys signed your names on the pledge and handed over the clipboards back to Bonnie's awaiting hands. She glanced down at the names you scribbled down and smiled in delight. "Congratulations Sam and Dean Winchester, and Y/N Y/L/N. You are all virgins." 

You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh at hearing something you hadn't heard in a while. Sam faked his enthusiasm while Dean took it a smidge too far, grinning a little too wide and seeming excited at the news. At least making a show out of it for Bonnie. You knew one thing for certain: this was going to be one interesting afternoon. 

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat // @romanovanoffsstuff // @underthestarrsss // @lady-elena-adeline

Message me if you would like to be added!

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (13/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

With attire alone, Levi was already a fish out of water.

As the seconds ticked though, his self consciousness only grew.

It wasn’t just an issue of clothing. Too many things had been against him the whole way to the dinner room. The white and silver of the windows of the private dinner room in the hotel reflected the setting sun, the marble floors, the glass bridge, the carpeted floors.

The scenery was only half the battle though. The men and women strode in and out of the dinner room with attire much grander than is. There were leather bags, the jewelry and constantly hovering in the air were the business vernacular that fell into one ear and out the order.

There were too many conversations on mergers, acquisitions, business climates, market prices he could never be part of. And his own direct companions weren’t making it any better.

As Levi soon understood, it wasn’t their job to make him feel comfortable anyway.

“Yelena,” he repeated, a memory exercise for himself. The whole journey from the convention center on the first floor to one of the rooms in the mid floor of the hotel was silent and long. In the sea of business pleasantries though, it seemed ironic that the blonde had never even made conversation beyond her own name.

Even as she sat next to him on the dinner table, she didn’t speak, not even bothering to respond to her own name. She was too close though, only a few inches away that Levi swore she had heard it.

“That’s your name right?” Levi added. He couldn’t think of much else to say. After blurting her name mindlessly, with Porco and Pieck seated just in front of him, looking at him expectantly, he knew he had to continue with something.

“I introduced myself back in the lobby already,” Yelena finally responded.

“You did,” Levi said.

“Is there anything you want to ask?” Yelena asked, no hint of benevolence in her tone.

Levi had been rolling on the bed, in and out of sleep the whole day. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to think.

Yelene had a knowing look on her face, as if she knew something he didn’t. And she seemed to be enjoying it. Since a while ago, she hadn’t at all been subtle with the fact that somehow, by just their first meeting, Levi had managed to rub her the wrong way. It wasn’t too radical of an idea, that she may enjoy his pain.

Levi’s mind was suddenly racing, reminding him why he had even considered going in the first place. Is there anything you wanna ask?  Those words echoed for a while longer. The longer he sat there silently, the more restless he became. He avoided her gaze, looking behind her, then behind Porco and Pieck, taking in his surroundings again. He was observing mannerisms, branded bags, branded ties, branded purses and Zeke in the middle of all of it, going from one table to the other.

Eventually, after the discomfort settled, Levi realized he was torturing himself for a reason.

Hange wasn’t there. And he shouldn’t have needed that long look to notice it. But you’ve given up already? Right?

“You’re not going to eat?” Pieck was a lot more friendly. There was a huge difference between being polite and being friendly and Levi suspected, he was only seeing politeness as friendliness given the stark contrast of Yelena’s overall approach towards him

In the air, tension hung so thick. Levi didn’t notice a piece of bread and a bowl of soup had been served in front of him. “I will.” He immediately went for the spoon in front of him.

“That’s the spoon for the main course,” Yelena said.

“What?” By the second, Levi was starting to realize how disconnected he actually was. Around the soup, there were spoons, forks and knives in multiple sizes. In a panic, Levi had looked around to see it was the same for everyone else.

Yet, everyone else knew how to navigate such a complex design.

“The small one is the soup spoon.” Pieck was helpful at least. “No, that’s the tea spoon,” she added as she looked pointedly at the smallest one Levi had taken hold of.

Levi was familiar enough with tea to be familiar with the size of the teaspoon. At that point though, who cared what spoon he ate with? He wasn’t there to dine.

By some pride or just utter frustration at the whole situation, the spoon debacle was never solved and Levi never touched his soup that night. He closed himself off from everything else, keeping his world closed to anything but the entrance, Zeke, the crowds, and the one familiar face he wanted to see.

But Hange never showed up.

“She’s not coming. If that’s what you’re thinking.” Yelena could have been reading his mind.

“Who’s not coming?” Levi asked. He widened his eyes in mock surprise but he kept his voice toneless. In his mind, that seemed like a good balance to display both calm and disconnect.

Yelena never answered the question. Maybe she knew silence was the right answer, that is, if her attention had been to keep his insides boiling in frustration, his mind racing.

The grin on her face only proved it. Maybe that was her intention.

It only got worse though as the night dragged on and Levi noticed his own restlessness around the salad course that he could barely even look at.

He could barely coordinate his hands. His legs were trembling.

Those few moments he focused on evening out his breathing, he was able to grip the spoon, then the steak knife as the main course came in.

As if to add salt to whatever wound she had, Yelena commented abruptly. “It’s not everyday people like you will be able to get steak like this.”

The steak could have just been soft. Or Levi was recovering. One of those, he couldn’t be too sure. But it was a good steak. He could tell that much. It melted in his mouth and he had spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating how it was physically possible for steak to melt in his mouth.

Then suddenly the delectable steak rotted mid chew. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” It was as if Yelena was on a mission to be a total buzzkill. Maybe she was being paid by Zeke to do just that.

And she was doing a wonderful job. Levi almost choked on that last piece, his fork fell to his lap. In a bout of embarrassment, he stood up. “Toilet.”

Five minutes and an empty bladder later, whatever peace and calm he had managed to muster alone in the toilet completely dissipated. It seemed like that dinner was also on a mission to make him as miserable as possible even in a supposedly pleasant environment.

“Where’s my steak?” Levi put too much energy into keeping his tone as subdued as possible.

“Oh, you weren’t done?” Pieck asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He had only gotten two bites. Of course, he wouldn’t be done. He was close to raising his hand up to call the waiter until he was reminded, he didn’t even pay for the dinner. Did he even have the right to complain?

At that point, Levi was just a little ticked, his grumbling stomach at having missed three courses over his own discomfort and tense state was already catching up to him. “What made you think I was done?”

“You put your spoon and fork together, like this,” Pieck said. “That means you’re done with the course.” She organized her plate the same way Levi did, for just a second.

Maybe Levi had been too self conscious. In an attempt to seem more posh than he actually was, Levi had channeled his own fastidiousness into putting the utensils together before he left for the toilet.

“I would think someone who works in corporate would know this. This is standard fine dining,” Yelena said nonchalantly.

Fine dining for Levi meant a dinner at a cafe, or a sit down restaurant. The whole world that existed for the sake of fine dining, the course meals, the secret language he didn’t seem to understand felt completely unnecessary. And the longer they sat there as if deliberately keeping him in the dark while he starved, Levi only became more and more impatient.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have known any better at first,” Levi said.

“I’ve been handling Zeke’s properties overseas for years so I’ve had my fair share of fine dining experience.” She then turned to Pieck and Porco who both nodded. “Even before that, my parents have taught me this. Have yours?”

Levi’s earliest memories of fine dining had been sit down restaurants, diners, nothing too fancy. He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t come here with the intention of dining. You put me on that list yourself, without even waiting for a reply.” He regretted it, as soon as he let it out. His grumbling stomach had him almost out of control.

Yelena raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Then why did you still come, Mr. Ackerman? The free food?”

Levi froze.

“The free food you barely even touched?” Yelena pressed.

And Levi stiffened up, much harder than he would have thought was ‘completely frozen.’

“You have some business to settle with Mr. Jaeger I’m guessing?”

“It’s none of your business.” Levi managed to say.

“I’ve been working for the Jaegers for years. I manage their overseas properties, a few apartments and houses here and there,” she said proudly.

“And?” Levi challenged. “Does that make you entitled to whatever other business Zeke has?”

That question was a response enough. Enough to get Yelena crack, her expression shifted from incredulous, to abrasive to subdued. One eyebrow raised, mouth twitching slightly. “I had to clean up the mess you two left behind.”

Mess? Levi had an inkling of an answer.

A clatter of metal on a plate. “Yelena! Not here,” Pieck said.

“Then we should talk outside then.” Yelena was half way to standing up, before she stopped herself.

Levi found himself following her gaze. The one view that had her frozen in her tracks had been Zeke and before Levi even knew it himself, he was just as surprised as Yelena.

“Should we retire early?” Zeke asked.

“Sir, you haven’t eaten yet,” Yelena argued.

Zeke shook his head. “I hold these dinners to find potential business partners, not to eat.” He turned to Pieck. “I think Pieck can take over from here. I’ll leave you to answer any questions about Jaeger healthcare holdings.”

Pieck nodded. “Yes sir, I’ll take over.”

“No hurry, everyone’s still busy with their meals…” Zeke looked pointedly at his surroundings at the other people. HIs staff table had been conveniently placed by the corner, and it didn’t seem at all like their conversation had been heard by everyone else.

Pieck and Porco were noticeably eating faster, seeming deep in thought. Back into business mode maybe, the caustic exchange of a while ago completely forgotten. Or at least they looked like they were attempting to forget it.

Not burdened with that same responsibility, Yelena didn’t seem to put up any facade. Her own antagonizing attitude towards Levi didn’t falter. Yet somehow, Zeke’s presence had kept her mum, subdued her to just venomous glares.

They exited the dinner hall and made their way out of the hallway, opening up to the open hotel lobby. “We can talk in my private suite,” Zeke said. “I don’t like having a lot of my conversations in public.”

Levi didn’t respond. The glances Yelena snuck him only made it harder to come up with anything more than a few mumbles which he was sure would only make him look pathetic in front of Zeke.

“Did you pay for the flight yourself?” Zeke asked.

Levi nodded. Where’s Hange? That thought tore into his mind so abruptly, Levi found himself having to clamp his mouth shut, much tighter than normal. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. God knows, he might end up asking just that cursed question.

“You’re quiet,” Zeke commented as they entered the elevator. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

Levi nodded and mumbled some hint of a yes.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Really what was your favorite course?”

The steak obviously. Even those words got caught somewhere in his throat, admitting to Zeke that he enjoyed the food seemed almost like flaunting himself naked.

Luckily—or unluckily, Zeke didn’t prod, instead going for another speech which made Levi regret keeping silent. “I hold dinners every night for PR, get the right potential partners to the same room, for my healthcare holdings, my supermarket holdings, my…” Zeke rattled on.

To Levi, it felt the blonde had just been jacking himself off instead of actually making conversation. Still, that gave Levi time to think.

Thinking turned out to be a bad thing.

Even before they arrived at the penthouse floor, Levi had to admit, the hotel was posh. The scent of new wood hung in the air, the marble finishings, the lamp made out of metals Levi suspected weren’t easy to acquire. And when they stepped from the elevator wing to the matted floor of the penthouse, whatever plush they used underneath greeted him in some strange manner.

Strangely, Levi felt guilty for dirtying something which he was completely aware was supposed to be dirtied anyway dealing with foot traffic everyday. Then the more they walked, the more self conscious he became of the way he was walking.

Zeke and Yelena both walked ahead with confident strides and Zeke never stopped talking. When Levi found himself listening, he noticed, Zeke's tirades only made the grand hall seem grander, a completely different world to Levi, something he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Was he a visitor. Hell, maybe not even a visitor. A slave? A serf?

“The convention is to attract potential resellers. We’re planning on reselling our research, our products, our technology, to this region...”

They walked towards the end of the hall, stopping in front of some fancy door only accentuated by the plush carpets and the decorative lamps.

“... And this city will be our hub…” It looked like Zeke had been too distracted by his own grand plans to even bother to open the door. It was fortunate then that Yelena had the key and that she knew her way into the presidential suite.

They settled on the sofa in the living rooms, the first room past the foyer.

“We’ll set up office space... Maybe a building...”

It was around then that Levi noticed he hadn’t been offered a seat but he didn’t mind it too much. The multiple sitting rooms, the wide window to one side that gave a good view of the infinity pool on the balcony, and beyond that, a view of the city.

Did Hange get to swim? Levi looked out for a while longer and he couldn’t look away. The longer he looked, the easier it became to imagine her leaning over the infinity pool in her purple bathing suit.

“It will cost a few million dollars…”

Just like in the country club.

“Levi, you want to go for a swim?”

Levi coughed, an instinctive movement. “Sorry… Excuse me, what?”

Zeke looked very unimpressed. It was obviously a joke. “For gods sake, sit down. It’s distracting just watching you stand awkwardly.”

“So why did you invite me here?” Levi asked. If not to listen to you ramble. He added silently to himself.

“I think I have a right to answer first,” Zeke said. He nodded to Yelena. The latter walked away and back to the kitchen. “Why are you here? Don’t tell me you’re here for the convention?”

“What if I am?”

Zeke spared a small grin. He leaned back on the sofa and looked to the side, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. “And do you have plans of investing?”

Millions of dollars. Those three words echoed in Levi’s head. He didn’t have that money and he most likely never would.

Zeke didn’t give him time to speak. “Figures,” he muttered. “So why did you come here?” He asked in a clearer voice.

“You invited m---”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t here already,” Zeke said.

Yelena chose that moment to come in between them, a wine bottle on one hand, two wine glasses on the other. Her movements were too casual, the fine dining positions of a while ago seemed almost like a facade.

Zeke gave a nod in thanks. “Sit where you’re comfortable.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She settled on one of the sofa chairs, a comfortable distance between them. She mirrored Zeke’s own expression, a mix between mocking and expectant.

It only became harder to speak. When Levi was weighing between speaking up and staying mum, he found, as painful as it was to continue speaking, the outcome seemed more desirable.

At least in his head.

“What’s wrong? Can’t tell me why you visited my convention?” Zeke took a sip of the wine. “Unless it’s something… controversial? Embarrassing? Offensive?.”

Levi felt his skin crawl. Not completely in control of his body, he almost feared his facade cracking and not noticing it. He cleared his throat. “I was going to speak.” He paused, using that moment, to meet Zeke’s eyes. “It’s about Hange.”

“What about my Hange?” Zeke had put too much emphasis in those last two words, it seemed almost out of place. In one sleek movement, he straightened up on his seat and tightened his grip on his wine glass

It was as if Levi was walking on Zeke’s territory, completely unwelcome. And Levi was starting to notice that. He shook his head and softened his voice, a subtle peace offering. “I had plans for the emotion alarm, I wanted to discuss them with Hange, get her opinion---”

“Erwin hasn’t told you yet?” Zeke put down his wine glass. “We’re terminating the contract.

It was like a ton of bricks fell on him. His stomach followed suit. Levi went for his wine glass and took a long sip which quickly turned into a gulp then he let out a cough. Water would have done a much better job to clear the tickle in the throat, the pang in his chest and the hollowness in his chest that followed. But he wasn’t going to ask for water in Zeke’s territory yet.

A ninety five percent chance of termination. Erwin had said back in their meeting.

“So it’s final?” Levi asked. The crushing disappointment had been enough proof that Levi had been vouching on that five percent.

Zeke nodded once. “Hange won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll find another developer for her to work with.”

“I was working on some plans. They’re suggestions I was hoping she’d consider. If I---”

“Levi, can you send it over through email? Do you have to talk to her?”

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. He bent his head down almost immediately, focused on his shaking hands that were only gripping his knees tighter. He dug his nails into his knees, as if that would be enough to stop the shaking. “No, I don’t need to.” It could have come out as an exhale or an actual response.

“Well, that makes things easier. You know, she doesn't want to see you.” Zeke’s voice was painfully casual.

Levi looked up again, regretting it almost immediately. Zeke had a look of triumph on his face. It had only served to piss Levi all the more that Zeke had tried to hide it behind a nonchalant face. Seeing the small smile that decorated his lips, Levi dug his nails deeper into his knees. “Then why?”

“Why what?” Zeke pressed. “Why doesn't she want to see you?” His voice was getting colder and colder with each word. They twisted into an almost malevolent sneer.

“Why invite me here?” Levi asked, his voice clipped. Grappling with both Zeke’s attitude and the revelation on Hange’s feeling, Levi was finding it harder to speak.

“So you came because you were invited then?” Zeke took another sip. “And how were you invited?”

Does he expose Hange? And maybe Levi had taken too long vacillating.

Zeke had ended up answering the question himself. “An email? A support ticket with a flyer? Spam mail?” He took another sip. “You and your company have your very techy love alarm. And I have my own version too, my very old fashioned love alarm.” He gestured in front of him, right at Levi. “And it’s ringing in front of me right now.”

It took a few more seconds for Levi to understand it.

Zeke was either impatient. Or probably he thought Levi was a total idiot. He bent forward, leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his wine glass on the wooden table with a loud clack.“Tell me, why would you go all the way here, over a fake email?” he asked. “Her name really was enough for you to book a plane ticket and fly across the ocean?”

Levi didn’t respond.

And it looked like Zeke didn’t need an answer anyway. He waved one hand in front of him and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know, there are meetings that could have been emails yet you still chose to take a plane and come here.”

“Do you want me to write an email?” Levi asked.

Zeke shrugged. We don’t need your input. This project...it’s mine and Hange’s.”

Yours and Hange’s? He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, as if that slow and subtle movement had been enough to quell the fire in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s our project. It’s my gift to Hange.”

What does that make me? Levi didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t even want that instinctive jaw drop, the twitch in his mouth that followed to expose what the hell he was thinking.

“You’re merely someone paid to do the work.” Zeke continued, as if he had heard Levi's silent question.

Levi didn’t even feel it. He wasn’t even completely aware it happened until Zeke’s eyes widened for a split second in surprise, then narrowed again, shifting instead to one could have been pure fury.

But Levi didn’t care. Even when looking down had revealed, he spilled wine all over the lush carpet. The wine glass had hit the table, scattering pieces of broken glass on the table and over the floor.

It would be a bitch to clean up. Levi didn’t care about that either, it wasn’t his mess. It wasn’t his fucking presidential suite.

Zeke just had more practice in the diplomacy department. “Why do you feel it necessary to stand up and cause such a ruckus?”

The calmness had Levi’s blood boiling more violently inside him. He could only be grateful that the breaking the wine glass had released some of that pent up energy.

Zeke was only making it harder and harder to stay still. “I’m only stating facts. The money I put into it makes it mine. The fact that you’re being paid to do it. The fact that you even signed an employment contract relinquishes all ownership you have of all the projects you do in the company. You of all people should know that. I can’t even believe I need to school someone like you on this. You can’t even keep yourself together.”

Levi looked away, back at the view of the balcony, the glowing city. How much of it was owned by people who knew nothing about construction, architecture or just the hard work that went into even making such a view possible? A tiny injustice that surfaced in Levi’s mind as he let Zeke’s words sink in. “With all due respect... ” His last few words came out softer than expected. But Levi had seemed almost confident with them. “...You know jackshit about coding or psychology.”

Soon, Levi gripped enough of that new found confidence to take control of the conversation. “You know nothing about how any of that shit works. You didn’t stay up all night working on that damn application. I’ll fucking bet my whole life savings you don’t even know how this application works.”

“Ackerman, watch your mouth!” It was Yelena who spoke, looking as if she had just recovered from shock, eyes wide, her own wine glass on the table.

Levi cleared his throat. “Once again, with all due respect.” He was mildly aware then, that he may have raised his voice. Zeke was surprisingly—almost admirably calm. He put one hand as if to stop Yelena and spoke up. “And does ‘knowing jackshit’ make me less of an owner?”

That was a question that Levi couldn’t answer. He regretted losing control. In shock, or in some punishment which only the inner workings of his mind understood, Levi could only stand still, unable to even sit back down.

Zeke stared at him accusingly. “Mr. Ackerman…” he started. “You don’t believe there’s any dignity in the labor of moving money around? Investing and reinvesting?”

Levi felt shame wash over him.

It was a strange state to be in. There was more than enough dignity in being a billionaire, in being one of the top one percent who just bought and sold whatever they got their hands on. It was an inarguable fact that society thought highly of the top one percent regardless of where they got their money. Yet Zeke had a way of speaking that made Levi reflect the validity of his own words, any disrespect or any backhanded insult he could have been sending to anyone else.

Levi knew he was being manipulated but he couldn’t seem to point out how.

Maybe it had been the way Zeke had opened his eyes, his face a mix of confusion, hurt, with a hint of derision. Or maybe everything had been Levi’s imagination and once again he was faced with the prospect that maybe he didn’t mean it.

“That…” That wasn’t what I meant.

At that point, Zeke had stood up and at that difference of height and difference of social status, Levi had to bite his tongue, not to lose his composure.

Zeke though seemed to know he had taken control of the conversation. “You’re trying to cover your ass?”

“Cover… my ass?” Levi said that last word with a little more venom in his mouth. Somehow, the eloquent Zeke suddenly putting so much force into one single curse only added to the tension of that moment.

“Trying to justify your own mistakes by emphasizing your own superiority. It’s a very common tactic. You’re not the first to employ it.”

“I never---”

“You should be thanking me. I’ve been treating you fairly, paying you for your hard work. And on top of that, I’ve tolerated the transgressions, even putting more money unnecessarily into covering this up.” Zeke said. He walked towards the kitchen island, pulling an envelope from next to the telephone and slamming it on the counter. He wasn’t motioning though for Levi to come.

Levi preferred to stay frozen, just standing between the sofa and the coffee table. But when Zeke opened the envelope, pulling out pictures, and a few pages which he waved on the air and slammed on the table, Levi’s curiosity peaked.

Levi covered the distance in so short an amount of time, he never figured out if he seemed too desperate.

In hindsight, it wasn’t important. The contents of the papers, the pictures bundled together by paper clips had only been a more pressing matter.

Zeke’s words only confirmed it. “You went on a road trip up north on Hange’s birthday?”

“We did,” Levi said. There wasn’t much else he could have said to deny it. The evidence was too overwhelming— blurred pictures, screenshots of comments online in threads, subthreads, all speculating Hange’s side relationship.

“No use denying it. Yelena made a call to our employees in our estate up north. They mentioned Hange’s companion when she visited.”

“But we didn’t do anything…”

Zeke raised one eyebrow as if he had caught them in the act. “I’m not accusing you of it. But what would you say in your defense? When the Love Alarm rings, when you book a double room in a motel and when you’re together, almost inseparable in all of these pictures,” Zeke spread the photos on the table, shots of them in the motel, in the train station, in Zeke's house. “Hange isn’t a high profile person. It never made the news, Yelena and I made sure of that but people talk, anyone familiar with the tech world and particularly interested in it, would know how our family looks like."

It was funny, how anger could so easily sour to shame. At that moment, Levi considered disappearing an almost welcome development. Zeke pushed the pictures nearer to him, in one messy pile, the screenshots on comments, mentioning words like ‘misters,’ ‘paramours,’ ‘who’s the man???’ “We purged the internet of all photos, no names. Some people repost but I have people watching and reporting. This isn’t cheap.”

I’m sorry. Levi’s first instinct was to apologize, the adamance of a while ago almost completely forgotten. But sorry’s wouldn't work. “How much? I’ll pay what I can.”

Zeke scoffed. “Can you?”

Levi couldn’t think up much to say. He scanned his eyes over the comments at first to feign business, an excuse not to speak up. The more he looked, the more engrossed he got at lines of comments. Others towards him, then as he turned the pages, they were all towards Hange.

Slut. Whore. Low life. Cheater.

“I’ll pay what I can,” Levi said.

“How much are you willing to shell out? A hundred grand?”

That was a huge chunk of Levi’s annual earnings already. He wasn’t one to disclose salary though. He kept his mouth a thin flat line and nodded.

Zeke shook his head. “I’ll be generous, considering all the inconvenience you’ve caused both of us. While you're here, humor me,” he said. “I may not be a coder or a psychologist but I’m sure, there are things I can teach you. If you’re willing to shell out a hundred grand, let’s gamble with it. I haven’t had a good game in a while.”

“A good game?”

Zeke turned to Yelena. “Can you be a dealer again?”

“You plan on playing heads up?” Yelena asked,

“We have a table in one of the private rooms, why not?”

“Heads-up poker?” Levi clarified. There was only one game heads up that the two could have been referring to, mentioning terms like ‘deal.’

Zeke didn’t even bother to answer the question either for lack of consideration for Levi or just an expectation that Levi may have understood.

Levi didn’t live under a rock and he was very much familiar with the game. He had played a few games on online poker sites back in college.

Still, he moved a little sluggishly behind his two companions. Levi could have just been a little too wary or Zeke could have been out for blood.

The stakes then and there were completely different. For one, he had never bet almost a year’s worth of his own salary on a single game. He had never played with anyone whose net worth was a thousand, or maybe even a million times his own.

At that moment, Levi felt like a total beginner and it was as if hesitation clipped every single moment he managed to pull out of himself. There wasn’t too much he was expected to do but watch as Yelena prepared a few playing cards then chips.

Zeke made himself comfortable right in front of Levi. “Willing to bet a hundred grand?” he said those last words with an ominous smile on his face.

Levi sensed danger, but he couldn’t sense any proper way out either. He owed Zeke, he knew that much, whether it be for the money or the utter disrespect he had been treating him with since a while ago. Maybe he owed Zeke for more than that, for any inconvenience Zeke may have experienced at Levi having gotten a little too close to Hange.

Levi admitted, even just to himself, he had been a little too close to Hange for either of them to have been comfortable. Guilt, a sense of duty or just hyper awareness of everything all at once had Levi conceding, “Do I pay now?”

“We play with chips first,” Zeke responded.

Yelena dropped colored stacks of chips in front of them. Levi counted reds, blues, yellows, browns.

“You should have a hundred thousand worth,” Yelena said. “Do you know the colors?”

“Yes, just a bit.” Dabbling into online poker for a few months at least, Levi had enough experience to tell the browns as five thousands, the light blues as two thousand and the rest had inferred for himself from the amount of chips in front of him. He looked up to see that Zeke had a noticeably larger stack. “That looks like a lot more than a hundred grand,” Levi noted.

Zeke didn’t answer immediately and the flicker of realization came quicker, quick enough to have Levi coughing in surprise. The odds were against him.

“It is,” Zeke said as he counted his own chips, as if it wasn’t plain and utter cheating or even deception that he had a glaringly higher amount of chips than Levi. He slipped the chips towards the side and looked questioningly at Levi.

What had Hange told him back then in the golf course?

Zeke likes winning...But the way he goes about winning is like...He’s always been smart about it, always playing safe.

And what a better way to play safe than to have a larger pile than your opponent.

Zeke spoke up. “Hange and I, we’d play games with business partners while talking contracts and logistics. And Hange always said this about games. They teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… And the more I played with Hange, whether it be mahjong, blackjack, golf, or chess, I started to notice something. Games are a mirror of life, almost a clear reflection of what you deal with in business and in relationships.”

Zeke paused for a second and closed his eyes as if deep in thought. The room filled with the sound of shuffling of cards, the sound of the clack of chips as Zeke ran his hand over the brown ones, tapping them over the wooden round table in stilted and deafening movements.

“Poker is one of my favorite games. Like business, you base your decision on three things… Tells, numbers and circumstances,” He paused for a few seconds longer and he could have been expecting Levi to speak.

Levi didn’t look up though, instead using the brief silence to make sense for himself the amount of chips on his side.

Zeke spoke again. “Yelena, shuffle up and deal. We’re playing heads up. Our small blind is five hundred dollars and our big blind is one thousand dollars,” he said coldly. “I hope that isn’t too much money.”

In truth, that was enough money to make Levi’s stomach turn. Zeke’s manner didn’t look like it welcomed any protest though, so Levi merely nodded as some weak reply.

A weak nod could have sufficed as a response. Zeke turned to Yelena. “Give our valued guest the dealer button.”

The dealer plays the small blind. Levi counted five hundred dollars worth of chips and pushed it in front of Zeke.

Two cards lay in front of him, care of Yelena. Levi had played before and he was familiar at least with what a good hand would have looked like. In one swift movement, he held the cards in front of him.

Ten of Clubs and Nine of Clubs. With just one look, he knew he could complete either a flush or a straight.

If the board plays to his advantage.

Zeke tutted. “It’s not considered good practice to lift the cards. Most poker players would just raise the corner just high enough to see their own cards.” He demonstrated that exact same movement, only raising high enough that he could get the contents cards with one glance. “You’ve never played on the board?”

“I’ve played for a few months online,” Levi muttered. He would look back at that experience with little animosity. After all, a few months dabbling with bets online and just applying what little he learned from his statistics class had seemed like an overall enriching experience at first. Then and there, on the board, with thousands of dollars at stake, Levi felt utterly vulnerable. Like a beginner. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, someone with only months worth of casual experience was a beginner.

And Zeke held a glaring advantage, something Levi couldn’t so easily brush away. Levi’s own instinct, his own experience with odds had him considering raising. Just for a second. When Zeke was staring at him though, his own pile much bigger than Levi, Levi could only weigh between two decisions, fold and give up that hand or match Zeke’s bet.

It’s still a good hand anyway. “Call,” Levi said, matching Zeke’s bet.

By the way that Zeke was looking at him though, Levi knew he was probably not playing on the board properly. Zeke spoke up. “Tells. One important concept in both poker and business is tells,” he explained. “The way you carry yourself tells me you never played on the board. Am I correct?”

“Yes.” There was no use denying it but Levi didn't have to spare him a long answer.

Zeke dropped five purple chips on the table. “Raise to 2500.”

There was value in those chips, his lifestyle, his savings. And for a split second, he saw an abyss. He had spent too much on a flight ticket, a hotel room, just all the food he had been eating in that town. Then another year's worth of income on stake, reduced to chips.

By some strange instinct, by some adrenaline rush, Levi had managed to brush it away, reducing whatever stakes to the few chips on the board. And he was grateful for the power of delusion. By god, if he didn’t have at least a sliver of self-delusion, he could have folded right then.

“Call,” Levi said, once again matching Zeke’s bet. He needed to calm down. It wasn’t a loss yet, the game hadn’t even started.

There was hope in whatever cards Yelena was shuffling. She spread the first three on the table.

“We call that a flop,” Zeke said. “Just in case you didn’t know.” And of course Levi knew, he had played online long enough to pick up some terms. With the grin on Zeke’s face, a far cry from a face more appropriate for a game of poker, Levi was certain Zeke was provoking him. “I know what a flop is,” Levi said, running his eyes over the three cards.

Ace of clubs. Seven of Clubs. Eight of Hearts.

Levi started to calculate. He had 2500 dollars, a months worth of basic living expenses on the line. He wondered if it would have felt better just dropping the one hundred grand to Zeke from the start. There was something notably more painful and more terrifying about the possibility of watching his money whittle away slowly.

“During business meetings, I like to tell which topics, which specific products make my business partners uncomfortable, when dealing with stakeholders, with employees. I like to take a few quick guesses on the backgrounds of the people in front of me, to see whether they’re worth dealing with in the long term. ” Zeke explained. “How they handle pressure…”

Was that a threat? A challenge? Maybe it was. Levi was suddenly morbidly aware that he had licked his lips, that his hand shook as he took another peek at his cards.

He had a chance for a straight. But what would Zeke have? And Levi had made the mistake of looking at Zeke then.

“Another ‘tell’, your eyes widened just there. You have a pair? A potential straight? For someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, Hange does a much better time hiding than you do.” Zeke had deliberately put more emphasis on the word Hange.

If Levi hadn’t frozen solid, tensed up by the shoulders with Zeke’s almost accurate guess, the word Hange had done the trick to make Levi terribly, terribly self conscious. In an instinctive moment, Levi bent his head down, raised one hand in an attempt to cover his own eyes, only to realize a second later with his hand halfway to his eyes, that that had done worse to even show that he had something to hide.

“You don’t have to hide it. We all know already, you’re in love with Hange.”

Levi had accepted that part already. If he had been in complete denial at that moment, maybe he would have lost himself in Zeke’s accusing glare.

“Are you going to deny it?” Zeke dropped an alarming number of yellow and purple chips. “Raise to four thousand.”

Levi let out a sound, a combination between a no and a quiet huff and he matched Zeke’s bet.

“A month ago I heard from the staff in our summer house up north mentioning the man, who always followed closely behind Hange, the man who so willingly got a single bed hotel with her, the man in the train station who sat close to Hange Zoe,” Zeke said. “People talk, Levi. Did you consider that? And I thought to myself back then, maybe, it could have been a coincidence but Hange had her own tells as well. When Hange saved you from drowning, did you know she didn’t want to let go?”

Yelena put one more card down. Two of diamonds.

“This is a convenient turn card ,” Zeke commented. “If you have a nine, or a ten, you have a chance at a straight. Have you calculated?” He raised one eyebrow.

Levi didn’t answer. Hell, anything he did say could probably be taken against him.

“Hange would have. When we played, she would babble on about statistics. Everytime she held out a hand, completely beating me, she would babble all the calculations in her head. She has always been quick witted, intelligent, clever. That’s why I fell in love with her too.” He had said that part louder, more confidently and so matter-of-factly, and Levi was reminded he would never have that same confidence to say those words about Hange, even if he would have meant it.

There was a clack of poker chips. Four thousand dollars? Levi counted. He looked towards the pile next to Yelena. He had four thousand dollars there already. A total of eight thousand dollars on the table, months worth of rent for most.

From the expectant look on Zeke’s face, Levi was expecting he’d only go higher. Do I fold? But maybe with the excruciating mentions of Hange, that was something Zeke had wanted him to do. In a sliver of weak protest, Levi matched the bet, his own bet up to eight thousand dollars.

He needed a jack or a six for a straight. But why was Zeke easily dropping bets? Did he have something better?

“Let’s consider numbers in real life. Even with how you and Hange were acting, I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt. When the alarm rang, when you and Hange accepted it as truth, I realized my suspicions might be right. Hange might actually be attracted to you, she might actually love you. So what does that mean for me?” Zeke was once again playing with his chips.

Five thousand dollars worth? Levi thought loudly to himself as he counted the chips.

A bluff? Levi’s mind was racing. Zeke’s own words were deliberately or even just half heartedly disturbing. But there wasn’t much else he could do, four thousand dollars were on the line. Zeke proved to be confident at least with his own hand.

Bluffs happened, Levi played enough to be aware that people did put more than enough money than necessary just to scare people into folding. Another surge of protest later, Levi had matched the bet, putting his total bet at eleven grand.

The final card on the board was a jack and Levi didn’t have to look back at his own cards to confirm it. He had a straight. When Zeke had bet ten grand in chips, it had been much easier to call.

Soon the cards were revealed, an Ace and a King. Zeke had the strongest pair.

But Levi had a straight. He took the pot, more than a total of twenty thousand dollars, more than enough to offset his whole trip. When Levi looked up at Zeke, he regretted it almost instantly.

The latter didn’t seem at all affected by losing over twenty thousand dollars. “Circumstances, the most powerful tool but the easiest to control with the right resources. ” Zeke said, as if that had been the explanation for his own strange behavior. “It’s only natural when the person I’m married to starts running off with another man, I’d feel threatened. When she started working on the love alarm and I noticed she was happier, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. Then she was crankier than I’ve ever seen her before, then sadder. I wondered, what was our head developer doing to make Hange like that.”

Nothing. Fall in love with her? There weren’t too many things which could have fit what was starting to seem like a redundant question, so once again, silence was the best response.

Yelena spread the deck of cards over the table and Levi instead focused on dropping the new blind and appreciating the deft manner at which Yelena ran her hands over the cards.

He wasn’t in any state to be mesmerized by cards though.

Zeke’s voice echoed in the room. “Levi, I asked you a question.”

“What did I do, you mean?” Levi asked. That was the last thing he remembered and it had seemed almost redundant, not worth an explanation. Zeke shook his head. “Do you think she’s in love with you?” A strange question to ask someone, too personal. Zeke had a way of speaking that demanded answers.

Levi’s mind was working faster, vacillating between answering or not. He thought back to the ringing of the love alarm, Hange’s words up in the tower. Hange seemed happier, then crankier, then sadder, than I’ve ever seen before. “That’s for Hange to decide, right?” Levi said.

Zeke’s voice was suddenly softer as if they had released a sigh with his words. “Considering circumstances though, I was assured Hange can’t just leave.”

That last word had peaked Levi’s interest. “Leave?” He repeated.

“Even if your love alarm is correct, even if by some chance she loved you, and she didn’t love me, Hange can’t leave. I made sure of that. I’ve covered my bases.”

Covered your bases? Levi bent his head down, hiding that incredulous look that forced itself out of him.

“I paid for her research. I paid for the emotion alarm. I paid for the media embargo so your photos wouldn’t get printed.  I paid for everything, our home, our trips. Hange can’t just leave, after I put so much into this relationship right?”

Yelena dealt a new set of his cards and Levi pulled his new cards towards him and took a peak.

Eight of hearts. Three of hearts. Shitty hand with a potential for a flush.

Zeke slipped the new cards towards him. “She’s not going to leave. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, why are you still hurting yourself over this. Why don’t you give up?”

“There’s nothing to give up. I wasn’t holding on to anything.” Those words had been surprisingly easy to say. “Hange married you. I went here to talk to her, nothing more than that.”

“You could have sent an email. You could have sent it through Erwin. Why come here yourself?” Zeke’s words were suddenly ringing through his ear.

“Why are you so bothered by me showing up? You didn’t have to invite me here,” Levi said, and somehow, a cathartic release that came with those words.

The shocked almost speechless expression on Zeke’s face, a far cry from the calm, poker face of a second ago, sent a rush of confidence over Levi

Maybe there were things he knew about Hange that Zeke didn’t. Levi continued “I don’t understand why you had to go through all this trouble, covering the embargo, sending Hange away, buying the emotion alarm. Even if you didn’t cover your bases, even if you give Hange all of that, she wouldn’t have left you. She really believes she’s in love with you.” She’s a prideful prick that way. He added silently to himself.

“What do you know about Hange? You only met her months ago.”

Long enough to feel like I’ve known her my whole life. If his words could have at least been enough to ensure some happiness for Hange in the future, it was worth a shot. “You should have just trusted her. You take in the most free-loving person I have ever met as your partner and you trap her by hanging all that over her head? That’s not how to love someone like Hange.”

“Who are you to tell me how to love the person I’m married to?”

This time, it was Levi’s turn to ask a question. “Do you love Hange?”

“More than you’re capable of understanding,” Zeke answered venomously, as if it was an attack on Levi.

Somehow, of all the things, an attack on his own ignorance didn’t feel like anything at all. Levi was confident, he wasn’t ignorant. “Hange really believes love is a choice, love is freedom. And you think the best way to love her is to tie her down with money and gifts? With circumstance?”

“You can’t assume that.”

“Then why do you have to make her feel guilty? Why do you give her everything just so she won’t leave? Why are you assuming she’ll leave the moment she gets the chance?”

One hand on the table, and the table rocked, the pile of chips Levi had meticulously organized fell in one crash, the few others as they slid amongst each other, colors mixing amongst one another.

Yelena was the first to speak. “Focus on the game, Ackerman.”

“Check.” He didn't have the best hand. As the river opened up to reveal a potential for a flush, he still thought it worth a shot.

Zeke pushed a huge pile of chips to the front. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.” Almost all of Levi’s available funds.”

“Fold,” Levi said.

The button switched. Levi and Zeke dealt their blinds again. Yelena dealt another two cards. And the game continued.

Carefully raising the corners of his pair, Levi noted a three of spades and a queen of hearts. Even before Yelena had dealt the river on the table, Zeke had already pushed his pile to the middle. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.”

Levi couldn’t win, and just like the hand before, he folded.

It continued with that same pattern for the next ten hands. Zeke started to bait him, going all in towards the fourth hand, enough for Levi to lose all his savings, and Levi would fold. Hands later, Levi had lost the winnings of the first hand, he had absorbed a net loss. Zeke’s large pile was starting to seem more ominous.

Circumstances. The word started to hold more gravity as Levi reflected the unfairness of it all. Zeke wouldn't have minded putting one year’s worth of Levi’s salary in a single round, he had more than enough to spare.

You can’t win against money. What the hell was he thinking, giving up his blinds every single time. Zeke obviously bluffed a few times. No one would be lucky enough to have a streak of good hands.

But which hand? Levi thought loudly to himself, as if by some miracle, a god-sent answer could echo in his head.

“We can do this all night,” Zeke said, his composure once again collected, the exchange of a while ago forgotten.

Levi lost track of the number of hands. A quick look at his chips only made him realize he had forty thousand dollars left. Did he lose that much by just folding?

He would lose a hundred dollars that night if he continued playing but when he willed it, he realized was ready to lose that money. But the more Zeke played, the more he spammed all ins, the more urgent the loss started to seem.

It took a few more handsfor Levi to gather the courage to play, even with the stakes completely against him. Levi spared some thought to calculation, taking from Zeke’s rulebook.

Tells.

Zeke wore a poker face...Nothing there.

Circumstances

He had to do something fast, or risk losing all his money.

Numbers

Most importantly, statistics were on his side. He had opened his new hand to find a pair of aces.

Ace of Clubs. Ace of Spades. Statistically, the best poker hand. He could easily win everything back.

Then came the first three cards.

Ace of Diamonds. Queen of Diamond. Nine of Clubs.

“Raise to ten thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

Three of a kind, with the strongest cards. “Call,” Levi responded.

The next card was dealt. Ten of diamonds.

“Bet twenty thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

“Call,” Levi said again, pushing his pile of chips to the middle of the world. He couldn’t be too sure how he looked then. Were his hands shaking? It wasn’t a graceful movement for sure. He had to push his pile to the middle with three clumsy movements while Zeke did it in one elegant push.

But Levi noted the subtle way at which Zeke raised his eyebrows before they met eyes. And for one second, Levi allowed himself a long stare, a slight movement of his lips, nothing close to a smile. If that one expression would be enough for Zeke to fold and give up everything, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t.

Yelena dropped the last card on the board. An Ace of hearts.

“Raise to one hundred thousand dollars,” Zeke said, notably louder than every other time before.

Enough to make Levi jump, enough for him to doubt. He snuck another look at his cards. Four of a kind. You’re fine. Why was his heart still beating wildly? Why was meeting Zeke’s eyes for a while longer such a harrowing experience?

It’s a poker face. People do this when they play poker. Levi told himself and the longer he was able to convince himself that Zeke knew what he was doing. And maybe it had always been good practice to stay calm, even when everything was stacked against you.

“Showdown,” Yelena said.

Or maybe Zeke just wasn't that connected, especially since nothing much was at stake for him.

It could have been all those guesses, or it could have been the ugly one that opened up in front of them right then and there.

And it looked like Zeke had figured it out first. “Have you heard of the term bad beat?”

Levi was taking longer than usual to make sense of the cards, much slower than usual and maybe it had been the exhaustion of calculating the past almost countless hands.

“There is roughly a four thousand to one chance of getting a four of a kind. But sometimes, people have something better than that… Not often but… It’s still worth considering.”

Something better. And when Levi was considering every hand better than a four of a kind, it became much easier to scan the river then Zeke’s hand for the answer.

Zeke had two cards: King of Diamonds and Jack of Diamonds. A Royal Flush.

“There’s a six hundred thousand to one chance of actually getting a royal flush. First one in my life.” Zeke could have been genuinely amazed, but that big ham reaction had been more than enough to piss Levi off.

It made it difficult to sit still.

“When you consider circumstances, you introspect, you strategize and you pray for a little luck,” Zeke said. “Believe me, you had every other chance to win before. I went all in with the worst cards and you folded every single time. Are you that terrified of losing a few thousand dollars?”

Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Levi corrected in his head. An annual salary’s worth. And maybe that was the point Zeke had wanted to make. By circumstances alone, Zeke had manipulated Levi's choice.

Zeke smirked. “Circumstances rely on luck too and luck is a funny thing. Even if you play everything correctly, you can still lose. Life’s unfair isn’t it.”

“You had less to lose than I did,” Levi said, his lip trembling. “That’s all there is to it. If you lost all the money, you would have put more in.”

“I would have,” Zeke admitted.

“I was playing a losing game.”

“At least you got the lesson. These are your circumstances. Every life lesson everyone should have learned from birth, life isn’t fair. I’m surprised you’re expecting that from a casual game.”

“I never said that. I knew I was playing a losing game and I expected that.” It had taken all his effort to keep his reaction unreadable, and god he wished he had managed it every other time before. “Thank you for the food. Thank you for the game. Thank you for covering for me and Hange.”

With the game over, it didn't look like he felt compelled to wipe that smug grin off his face. And there were things Levi wished he could tell Zeke, and maybe it was worth the risk. “One last thing, I don’t agree with you about relationships, businesses being like games. Loving isn’t a game. When you give all this money to Hange do you expect her to give back? You expect to be able to manipulate relationships through circumstance alone?"

“I told you Ackerman, don’t tell me how to love my partner.”

"I don't have enough fucks to give for every single person in this world. I’m not telling you how to love the person you married because I actually give a fuck about your love life. I’m only telling you how to love your partner because your partner just so happens to be Hange and Hange’s a free bird. She doesn't deserve at all to be loved like that. Don't cage her in with circumstances. Don’t tie her down with money, with a debt of gratitude.” He pushed his seat back and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.”

The sliding door wasn’t locked. He forced it open gently then too hard, enough to make it rattle, He gave one was long look at the infinity pool then leaned his arms on the balcony railings. He took a deep breath.

And that reprieve was just a little too short. It turned out Yelena followed behind him, a piece of paper in hand. “Zeke’s bank details,” she said.

That had seemed too abrupt. But really, what was he supposed to expect, a consolation prize? Hange’s location?

“It would be much easier if you paid immediately,” Yelena said. “Do you have the money on hand?”

He didn’t have the credit rating to pay that in one go. He opened his own banking application and attempted to transfer that much in one go.

Bank error.

“We accept checks,” Yelena said.

Levi had never dealt with checks. His credit card limit was far less than how much he needed to pay. And a few exchanges later, a quick google search later, Levi had figured it out. He could pay by wire transfer but by god, and just the wire transfer would cost him more money than necessary.

Levi was a man of principle though. Slip of paper on hand, Yelena’s contact details on his phone he made his way out of Zeke’s presidential, without even bothering so much as a goodbye. It looked like Zeke had retired to his own private room or study anyway. Did he need that pleasantry from Levi of all people?

On the way back to his own hotel, he took a long cut, through the hotels that connected to one another through glass pathways, a few floors above ground. He made sure to take a longer time than usual, enough time to reflect on his own shitty luck.

A fruitless reflection with a very very repetitive and depressing conclusion. That’s just how life is?

If it hadn't been for those two who had talked a little too loudly by the side, maybe Levi would have deemed it fruitless.

If didn’t look to his right to see the entrance to the casino, if he didn’t walk quickly past the slot machines, taking in the red plush carpet, he would have said it was a total waste of time. The dim room only further accentuated the lights that never seemed to come from an exact same place. The casino had a way of just letting some strange feverish state, some illusion blanket his surroundings.

Hange Zoe. The man at the front had said her name, too proudly, as if in total amazement. For a while, the dazzling casino lights had him doubting that name clipped into one brief exchange. Others seemed to be talking about her too. Then he was following the crowd.

Murmurs of Hange Zoe, none of them demeaning or admonishing. Others seemed breathless, and Levi thought it worth his time, to tiptoe just to see a good look of what they were staring at.

Fruitless.

Levi dove into the crowd, slipping his way through, bending over, moving his hand through when necessary. He never made it to the front, but he did note the messy mop of brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, bent over the table. The autumn jacket, the side profile and the glimmer of some tight lips.

Hange was deep in thought in the middle of what looked to be some poker game. Her own pile of poker chips right next to her, much larger than everyone elses. He knew her enough to make that type of guess.

Circumstances.

Levi decided it would be a waste of time. Circumstances were never his to control anyway. They were Zeke’s, they were hers.

Hange Zoe’s win again.

How many hands had she played before that?

She’s cheating.

No, she’s just lucky.

I heard she calculates every single hand.

Levi felt some sense of superiority, knowing something the murmuring crowds didn’t.

All summarized into three things. Firstly, lady luck was probably on her side, it had always been as if making up a string of misfortunes in a previous life. Secondly, she probably calculated every single hand. Third, Hange would never ever cheat.

And those would be last few thing he would allow himself be proud of. That would be the last time he would think of Hange as someone remotely his.

As Levi turned the heel and walked back to his hotel, he decided, although it wasn’t too fruitless a detour, he still regretted making that quick trip into the casino.

***

If Levi knew he would have felt like shit as soon as he came back from vacation, maybe he never would have gone on that stupid vacation in the first place.

Monday. Monday morning. Those words managed to taste bitter, even when Levi was barely forcing it out of his mouth. It could have been the fact that he barely had time to get over the jet lag or it was just way too early in the morning. Scratch that, it wasn't any of that at all.

Zeke was sitting on the couch, seeming very much unaffected by what should have been transoceanic jet lag and very much unaffected by the words that came out of Erwins house just a second ago.

At first, Levi even doubted what I heard, attributing it to exhaustion. He turned back to Zeke, no sadistic grin, no furrowed brows. He was calm, unimpressed and all business.

"Sorry… it's too early in the morning… I don't think I heard you correctly,” Levi said, an attempt at professionalism even with the trappings of shock, disbelief and very inconvenient drowsiness.

“We don’t usually invite lower management to these types of meetings… But Mr. Jaeger requested you be here, to answer any questions that might pop up...” Erwin said apologetically.

“No. Not that… You mentioned it a while ago...Why is Mr. Jaeger here?”

"We’re making amendments to the contract," Erwin answered.

“And why do you need me here?”

“He’s here to buy the love alarm,” Erwin said so casually that Levi had to clear his throat, get rid of whatever popping sensation had been going on in his ears.

My love alarm. The love alarm he worked more than half a decade on. The love alarm which he knew like the back of his hand, from the backbone of the codes to the front end bugs.

"It's for sale?" Levi spat out. There were only so many ways he could speak and so many ways he could even articulate the emotions running through his head.

Erwin cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable at such a simple question. "Initially no… we never considered selling it but when Zeke called about it last week, we thought it worth a conversation.” He turned to Zeke then back to Levi. “We were able to run through Zeke’s proposal with the higher ups last Friday, and given the generous proposal, we are more than willing to sell him the rights to the Love Alarm and the Emotions Alarm project.”

How much did he offer? Levi instinctively looked towards Zeke but he soon figured out that no matter what he said, Zeke probably would never disclose the final price. In some vague response, Zeke pulled the brown envelope on the table closer to himself. "Everything has a price,” he said matter-of-factly.

Erwin spoke up. "I did the calculations as soon as I received your call last Thursday and it looks like it would be more than enough to cover what potential earnings we expected within the next two years and more than enough for the development of another project.

Last Thursday night. The night they had met in Zeke’s penthouse suite. Was buying the love alarm an impulse decision on Zeke’s part? The timing just seemed too right.

And they only continued to talk about it, as if Levi wasn’t there. What did an engineer know about business though or about purchases as high volume as the rights to the love alarm?

For something that had taken countless all nighters over time and years of development, the process of selling it just seemed too easy. “Mr. Jaeger, if I may ask, what made you consider buying the love alarm?” Levi asked.

“Hange’s research,” Zeke said, as if it was the most obvious and the most noble reason in the world.

“And when you buy it, what then?” Levi challenged.

“I’ll work with Hange. We’ll hire new developers to fix the bugs you never fixed. We’ll further improve the product and the code and we’ll break the product down, see what else we can use to improve the emotions alarm project.” The answer was disappointing, a far cry from what Levi wanted to hear.

Your other plans with Hange. He had opened his mouth, ready to expound on the question.

Erwin though may have sensed the thick tension between them. "You have the contract?"

Zeke nodded. "I had our lawyer work on it over the weekend, a rush job. You can run through it with the higher ups and I'll have someone pick up a signed copy by this week"

"Believe me, we’re decided, you can even pick it up tomorrow," Erwin said as he opened the envelope, pulled out papers and flipped through the pages. For a second, he dropped the paperwork on the table then onto the page where the executives were expected to sign.

All familiar names from the big wigs all the way, down to Erwin. Levi's name wasn't there at all. Figures, Levi after all, was merely an engineer. He couldn't help but sense irony though in the fact that the one who knew the most about the product had no say in its actual fate.

Erwin's words only made the irony seem more glaring. “We'll use the next two weeks to do some clean up on our end, pack up the resources and work on data migration.”

By ‘we’, Levi knew Erwin would be ordering him to do that.. He couldn’t help but feel slightly cheated though. He would be basically ordered to take apart something he built from scratch, send it off and never see it again. And the longer he stared at the contract that would be ordering all that, the more desolate the air around him seemed to feel.

The product he had worked on for years, taking apart every now and then, breaking and putting back together to find even the smallest bugs, going on countless hours of overtime over, was like a child to him, a child he was unwillingly sending it away to some known.

Some masochistic part of him had him still staring at the contract, long enough still to remember his first contract when he first signed into the company, something that stayed snug into the back of his mind, unexpectedly kicking his arse then.

Ownership of Intellectual Property. Employee agrees that the Company shall own, and Employee shall (and hereby does) assign, all right, title and interest...

Everyone in the room seemed to have too much regard anyway for pleasantries anyway and never felt the need to clarify it. Levi had to rely on his own memory of Zeke saying it just a few days ago in his hotel room.

The company pays you. Any effort, ideas, projects you put into our product is company property.

And Zeke will be buying it so it will be his property.

Whether Zeke even knew how the alarm worked didn’t seem to matter to him though.“So, I guess in a matter two weeks, all server data and resources should be with Jaeger corporation.”

Erwin nodded. “We’d be happy to expedite the process. If all goes well, yes.”

When a huge sum of money was on the line, suddenly red tape was so easy to squeeze one’s way through. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay calm as they signed away the culmination of his own hard work, his countless hours of overtime, the blood, sweat and personal investment he put into that one application, all signed away in a brief second, all the red tape of a few weeks ago, non-existent.

Erwin turned to him, “If you can stay behind after the meeting, so we can discuss the logistics…”

Most days, Levi appreciated the manner at which Erwin spoke, the way he took some regard of Levi’s own time when giving orders. That day, there were too many things happening to even appreciate.

What else do you expect me to do? Say no? Hell, he had wanted to say no, but by the glaring lack of his own name on the contract, the glaring lack of regard for his own opinion on the matter, Levi could only seethe silently.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke snapped his fingers, loud enough to call Levi’s attention. “Hange sends her regards. She enjoyed working with your company a lot.” He turned to Levi and gave him a nod. “And to you too Ackerman, I just have to say we’re very grateful for your hard work and your generosity.”

What generosity? The implication that Levi had any say on commercial decisions seemed mocking.

“We’ll take good care of both applications,” Zeke continued. “And regards from Hange, she wishes you all the best with Petra.”

Petra. Levi let out a cough, letting out a subtle look at Erwin. If the latter did seem bothered, he didn’t show it.

With that, Zeke left the room, and Levi started to understand how someone could keep such a confident demeanor even with the slightest inconveniences. Somehow, having that many assets, wealth and power under one’s belt really had that paper.

The way he strode, embodied it, the way that in just a few phone calls, he had completely dismantled everything Levi had worked on, making it his own.

And when he closed the door gently behind him, leaving Levi and Erwin alone in the room, Levi was reminded once again, the love alarm, the emotion alarm, were never his, as much as he would have wanted to claim ownership.

They were never his, but suddenly they were Zeke’s. Levi turned to Erwin, narrowing his eyes, as he watched the blonde make his way to the desk. Erwin seemed uncomfortable as if he sensed the strange betrayal that something so standard as corporate procedure could bring. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up.

Two weeks. Levi was given two weeks to clean everything, migrate all data and vacate the office.

It was the company's project but it was Levi's responsibility. There was a broken partnership which somehow ended with two products sold. Yet even with all the damage dealt by that deal, the management needed some scapegoat from within the company.

Erwin had explained everything with as professional of a face as possible. With the tight lipped attempt at a grin that followed, the way he had avoided Levi’s eyes one too many times, Levi suspected Erwin knew more than he was letting on.

The photos maybe? The bug with Hange? The broken partnership? Of course someone would end up having to take the blame for giving Zeke a ‘bugged’ application.

Too many reasons, many among those rooted in some attempt to save face, in filthy office politics. And by then, Levi hadn’t been expecting too much.

That probably had been the reason that when Erwin looked back at him with a much softer expression, Levi couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, something to abate whatever emotion was threatening to let loose.

I didn’t think it was right for the mastermind behind the application to be terminated completely empty handed.

Erwin had arranged for some severance pay after the two weeks were over.

Enough to get out of the country, start somewhere else.

A job termination shouldn’t have been enough to be driven out of the country. Levi didn’t make too much sense of Erwin’s words until he had experienced it for himself a week later, through an empty email inbox after sending out the same resume to twenty companies for over thirty roles.

Have you heard of a no poach agreement? Erwin had asked back in the office.

A no poach agreement?

It’s technically illegal so this usually comes as a verbal agreement among companies. They’d note their best employees and if they have to let one go, all companies agree, they cannot hire them for a certain period of time, five to seven years. It's a 'scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' type of deal.

To keep company secrets apparently or to keep Levi from making a similar application in any other company.

If you want to continue working in the development industry, your best chance would be abroad.

Around one week left before his termination would become effective and Levi gave up on finding a development job in his city, hell even his country. Around that time he had started to clean up his studio apartment, throwing out whatever was needed.

He started looking through immigration laws, consulting when necessary. He looked through apartments in other cities, then labor laws. The severance pay was more than enough at least to get him out, and Erwin had been a big help in straightening other legalities out.

He had an extra few weeks to clean out his room, pack up his things, straighten out immigration issues and buy a damn ticket out of there.

In between, his final week at work. He had never considered leaving his job of over a decade to have ended such a long bittersweet moment. In reality, he never really had the time to appreciate normalcy and he felt some regret at that.

Migrating server data, resources, making sure everyone under him had straightened out their leaves, making sure they were assigned to new projects took time. Allowing himself reprieves in-between to just sit down, and stare at half filled boxes also took longer and more effort than he had expected it too.

He stared at the ever increasing boxes that lined his office walls for a while longer. Surprisingly, for someone so fastidious, he had a lot he needed to clean out, both inside the computer and outside.

You will lose all accesses, to emails, to chat accounts and to company property by end of day Friday. He got that same message, in different forms from human resources, from Erwin and Levi was on a strict time limit to get everything out.

In some protest, some act of empowering rebellion, Levi was taking his sweet time. He continued to reserve conference rooms, staying out of his own room as much as possible, going through each line of code slowly as if he they were all individuals all deserving of their own greeting.

He started with the backend, then went to the frontend. He looked through the pull requests and the merge requests and the fixes that would never make the next release.

And Friday couldn’t have come any faster. By then, Levi had ninety percent of  his office space cleaned out. He entered the room to find his own team lugging out some of the boxes.

100 percent done then? Levi thought to himself.

Eld was the first one to speak up. “We thought you’d need some help. We heard you only had until five to vacate the room." Yet, he had the expression of a guilty child caught taking cookies from the cookie jar at midnight.

His whole team looked similar.

Levi shook his head. "No, this is much appreciated," he said. A stiff choice of words if he did say so himself but the last few hours of work weighed on him more heavily than the days leading up to it.

He only had two hours before he lost access to everything he had worked on for years.

He held his work laptop close to himself as he watched them lug box after box out of the room.

"Eld was suggesting we go get something to eat tonight," Gunther suggested.

"That depends…" Levi started. Definitely, whether he enjoyed it depended on how quickly he could brush off that weight then that tightening in his chest. "Have you talked to your new team leads? Your new managers?" he asked, an attempt at a light conversation. He wondered if his expression betrayed his words.

Maybe they did. "Or we could wait a few days," Eld said.

"We'll see. We have a few more hours before the end of day," Levi said. He slipped past them and walked back into his office.

Shelves empty, desk spotless and even the floor shone with some unsettling gleam. It had always been spotless, he made sure of it but there had always been something melancholic about rooms that had been full for years, suddenly empty.

And until a few weeks ago, the room had felt like Hange. He had deliberately left many of the crooked books on the shelf, the crooked documents, the titled reusable paper tray and the test devices messily lined up on the shelfs because Hange had left it that way.

And the whiteboard right next to his desk which Hange had failed to clean many weeks before was suddenly wiped clean. Levi didn't even noticed he let out a sound, a mix between a gasp and a whimper when he saw Hange's list of emails completely gone, erased over.

"You okay in there, boss?" Petra asked.

"Someone cleaned the whiteboard," Levi said.

"Oluo, I told you he'd point out your shitty job cleaning the board!" Petra said, from just outside.

Oluo responded. "Well, he's not going to be using it anymore so I though--- Ow!" Some silence followed, then approaching footsteps. "Sorry sir, I'll clean it again."

"No, it's fine," Levi said, he put his hand up, as if to stop Oluo from making that quick trek back to the white board. "I'll clean up the rest. Thanks for the help."

For once, he was grateful for someone's carelessness. The white board wasn't as clean as he thought it was a second ago and maybe because he would have rather it wasn't clean.

Hange wrote in crooked lines where ends hit one another, others fell and the fonts and sizes were never too similar from one line to the other. And the closer Levi came to the whiteboard, he noticed it, one email peeking out, spared by the shoddy erasing job.

Wingsoffreedom132

Hange had multiple emails she used for testing and when Levi opened his work laptop one last time, enjoying the last few hours of access as he cleaned up folders and code repositories, he found himself looking back at the email.

Does she still use it? He asked himself

Maybe. It was worth a try at least.

He looked once again around the room, the very empty room. Then he looked back at his screen, opened the repositories that were ready to be sent out to the point person from Jaeger corporation.

Then he opened his own personal folder, the unfinished codes from the love alarm then the mood alarm then the plans, the files and on the upper left of the file 'the Mood Alarm.'

To hell, with red tape, bureaucracy and all that shit. It was his project, right at his fingertips. It wasn’t Zeke’s nor was it management. The only reason they probably hadn’t sacked him on the spot was because he was the only one who could have so efficiently organized it before they sent it off to some poor sap who worked under Jaeger corporation.

He allowed himself one rebellion, or more specifically a string of rebellions.

If he were forced by some bureaucracy to send all the resources of the love alarm and the mood alarm to Hange, he would do it on his own terms.

He disconnected from the office wifi. He opened a hotspot then he opened his own personal email. Opening an incognito tab, he transferred all the codes and resources to his own personal repository, organizing it in a similar manner.

Then copied the link and started to compose an email.

To: wingsoffreedom132@wahu.com

All the codes for the love alarm

He pasted the link right below.

All codes for mood alarm.

And below it, he pasted another link.

He waited for a few more seconds as the email loaded the attachment, the file with all the plans he had for the mood alarm, allowing himself a small smile as he imagined Hange pondering the name 'mood alarm.'

He vacillated between writing a message under and keeping it brief. Then a second later, his fingers moved for him, he didn't even realize what he had been writing until it was on the page, ending on a period for finality.

“Dedicate your heart.” He read it out loud, then he felt a pang on his chest and a twist at his gut.

Dedicate your heart to what? He didn't want Hange dedicating her heart to anything. He wanted her free, flying high, doing whatever the hell she wanted to, bound by no role, no debt of gratitude, no excuse for love.

Reach for the sky? Hell, she could probably even make it to the stars.

So he went for something that left him cringing.

Reach for the stars (or anything higher than that).

Then he added something, collateral from that rush of indignance.

Don’t let anything stop you. Just remember, I would have given you all these damn codes for free.

After sending the email, he took a few precautions. He cleared his history, his cache, his browser and he deleted the rest of the files in his laptop. With one hour before the end of day, he turned off the laptop.

“Do you need any more help?” Petra had entered the room, hands behind her back in some very faux casual manner. And she seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Levi used that moment to wipe that last line of Hange’s email, as if that could have been evidence to that bout of rebellion. “I’m done. Let’s leave the rest to whoever will be cleaning up the desk.”

Petra didn’t seem at all suspicious, or maybe she didn’t care. “That’s good. WIll you be joining us for dinner?”

Levi nodded. “Maybe my leaving is worth a dinner.”

“You’re really leaving?”

“Looks like it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I bought a plane ticket, secured a visa. I'll go somewhere, far from here, then find a job or maybe work freelance.

“I want you to stay here.”

“I wanna stay here too,” Levi admitted. “But I couldn’t even find a job.”

“I’ll miss having you here… And working with that love alarm. I really believed in the product and it made me realize my own feelings too,” Petra leaned by the window, looking worse for wear.

When Levi gave a long look, he noted maybe she had been crying. He almost felt guilty for not even struggling to fight back tears then.

Maybe his body had already reached the point of pure catatonic, pure acceptance at the hopelessness of the situation. “I’m sorry.” What was he saying sorry for? “I mean— I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Petra took a deep breath. “This is probably the only time I can say something so I’ll say it now and you know, if you believe in your love alarm, you probably figured it out already,” Petra started. “I like you, I really like you. Actually you know what, it might be love. I don’t know if that would change anything—”

“It won’t.” Levi kept his voice firm. “I bought the ticket. I organized my papers and I have a place to stay. I’m leaving.”

“For good?” Petra had on a wounded look, her mouth twisted into something similar to a pout, by her eyes were elsewhere as if she knew there was a little too much vulnerability in her voice. “So, whatever I feel, it won’t change anything?”

Levi shook his head. “I don’t think it would be fair to you if I accept your feelings. I’m in no hurry to date.” He let out a clipped sardonic laugh. “At this point, I’ll probably die alone.”

“You deserve—”

“And you deserve someone who wouldn’t decide to date you for convenience.” Maybe Levi had been a little too frank at that moment.

Petra didn’t respond, her mouth frozen in a tight lipped line.

“The love alarm will be back so maybe you can use that to find someone else whose alarm rings with yours,” Levi continued, his voice deliberately gentler. “Or what about growing something organically, without the help of that stupid app. I honestly think, sometimes the love alarm causes more chaos than actually fixes things.” He shrugged. “It depends on the circumstances really.”

Circumstances he probably would never understand. He turned back to the black screen and reflected for a long painful moment about it. He was a slave to circumstance.

They were silent for a while longer and Levi used that time to recover, willing himself not to meet Petra's eyes.

She broke the silence a few seconds later. “We’ll meet you by the gate for dinner?”

“I’ll see you then, just give me an hour or so,” Levi said, checking the clock on his phone. He had a little more than an hour left before EOD. “Or just text me when you find a restaurant.”

It took a little longer to convince Petra to leave and it had ended with them having to text Levi a familiar restaurant name.

Levi had taken his time doing nothing at all, just sitting on his office chair in his bare office room. He counted down the minutes on his phone until five. A few times he had even stared at the seconds counting down on the digital clock view on his phone.

Around a minute past five. He booted his laptop again, typed out his email and password.

Access Denied. Please contact your IT Administrator.

At exactly five in the afternoon, he lost access to the system. He took a deep breath and let reality weigh him slowly, then sink deep into him in one swift sensation.

The love alarm and the mood alarm were never his. Any delusion that they were his had dissipated with all the company accesses.

***

In an airport, the point past immigration is international space.

Maybe that explained that strange liberation that came with getting past immigration and walking through the gates, searching for his own. Or it could have been many things at once. He was out of his old job, out of his old environment and somehow, in its own way, it symbolized a new beginning.

Even as an international space though, some things weren’t completely unavoidable. Settling on the departure gate, Levi went through some final checklists on his phone.

He had a new bank account. He had a place to stay as soon as he landed.

And his inbox was a confluence of unread mail. Many of them were goodbyes, from colleagues, some from finance, from human resources, from his own team and he wondered how the hell people found out and what they were thinking about his leaving.

Erwin sent a few tips on taxes and getting housing loans. Petra had sent a ‘safe flight’ message with the same pleasantries of meeting up when she gets to visit.

There was one message was avoiding and he decided to open it last. He spent the first few minutes before that spamming the same thank you message to every single goodbye message.

That one other message after all, was easy to ignore, just a bank notification that money had been wire transferred.

One hundred thousand dollars, the exact money he had lost and sent over to Yelena, he realized as he opened the message and put a little more thought into it.

You have two weeks to claim it. Two weeks? The countdown started a week ago and he only had a week to claim it.

Actually, not even a week. Looking up at the boarding time, he realized he only had an hour. He could probably organize something to have it sent over to his new account. Considering timing and the logistics though was stressful enough already. And besides, his mind found it more enticing to just indulge the context behind such a large sum of money.

It could have been a scam. The amount of money though had seemed too much of a coincidence and admittedly, Levi was a still lovesick.

Don’t send me money. Just fucking talk to me. Levi whispered to himself. Just in case, just in case that was Hange.

In some indignant response, he decided to delete the message and instead, spend last few hours going through some obscure threads on the industry. Something he had been actively avoiding.

Business Jaeger Zeke Jaeger acquires the love alarm… The mogul had found a fatal bug on the love alarm…

In a noble effort to improve the efficacy and accuracy of the product, he took it upon himself to oversee development….

Head developer behind the love alarm has been terminated....

Unnamed developer. He had at least been given that much. Levi let out a sigh. For a high profile application, no one really figured out the name of the head developer. It was a thankless job but Levi never thought too much about the glory of it.

And at that moment, he could only be grateful for the anonymity, whether or not Zeke had done it deliberately.

Plane ready for boarding.

They would be starting with first class passengers first and Levi knew he had more than enough time to take a trip, to the farthest trash can, yet still something near enough to catch the flight.

He unzipped the front pocket of his backpack, pulling out a small sim card pin. He poked it, pulling out the tray, noting the bronze sheen of the sim card. It had taken him a few tries to hold the small card between his fingers and a few more tries to bend it between his fingers, bend it to the point of unusable.

He pocketed his phone and quickly made his way back to the boarding gate.

No bank account. No phone number. He wondered why he went through that much of an effort to destroy everything.

Maybe just for an attempt for a new beginning. Or maybe because he didn’t want her to find him.

The more he thought about it though, the sooner he realized he wanted her to find him. He just thought it better to assume that she wouldn’t even try.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 7: First lash.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, restraints, vomit, beating, blood, welts, hunger/starvation, conditioning, dehumanization, multiple whumpers, masked whumper (clown mask), letmeknowifimissedany

They’re taking her out when I wake up. She goes quietly. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. My empty stomach is nauseatingly sour. I pace the small room. The basement floor is damp like it’s absorbing moisture from below. I think about last night. Who knows how long she was silently crying. If she’s not going to talk, I should wait until I can see her face to make sure I don’t upset her again. I don’t know who these people are or why I’m here. I hate to think what it means if someone like her, so innocent and fragile, is here and acts like that.

I follow her example and cooperate when they collect me in their ski masks even though they put a pillowcase over my head and for all I know she’s never coming back. They take me into a room down the hallway and the floor is the same concrete the whole way. I keep having to swallow. My saliva feels thick and I can’t seem to get it out of my mouth no matter how much I gulp it down.

Heavy hands force me to my knees and pull my hands over my head. They bind my wrists in restraints, tightening them until I can feel the places the cotton padding has been worn down and the leather bites into my skin. I can’t help but picture her delicate wrists as the ones that broke them in. They do the same to my ankles, trapping me in an L-shape before pulling off the pillowcase and leaving me in the dark. It smells like metal. I think I’m chained to the floor and ceiling but there’s not a single link of slack.

I vomit thick spit and bile onto the floor. My stomach continues heaving even when all that’s left is saliva dragging its way down my lower lip. It sticks to my chin when I whip my head up at the sound of the door opening. I see a silhouette before they close us into darkness. A few seconds later, a light comes on. He’s dressed exactly like the others except, instead of a ski mask, he’s wearing a clown mask. We used to put on the scary versions with bloody, unnatural mouths and wrinkles in the rubber at the team house for the Halloween party every year, snaking the hose up the neck opening to do keg stands.

His mask is just smooth white with downturned eyes and a cartoonish smile—definitely worse than Twisty. It must be lined with black mesh because I can’t see anything underneath. He stands there, jeering at me. My tongue feels like a rock and my throat is still thick. I don’t know if I should say there’s been a misunderstanding or beg or just stay silent. I go with the latter, hoping that maybe that her silence is strategic. I try not to think about her spending any time here. He takes slow, measured steps forward to pick something up, let’s it unroll so I can see. All the moisture feels gone. I can’t even swallow.

I count the first handful of swings, still managing to stay quiet except for my breath. They’re burning and sharp.

When I lose count, I start begging, “Please stop, please I’ll do anything, please!!”

The welts begin to layer themselves into a blazing, throbbing ache.

“What do you wan—nnghh—”

I can’t breathe, my face is covered with spit, snot, and drool as I scream. The air doesn’t seem to reach my lungs but I know it’s there because it’s against my legs and the belt slices through it audibly with each swing.

I’m openly sobbing now. “I don’t even know why I’m h—agghhh—”

I dissolve into pleading incoherently. There’s a moment, between each blow, as the belt drags across the back of my calves, that a wild part of my mind panics that they’re gone completely because it doesn’t feel right, the whisper sensation, even pulling through the rawness, after the sharp pain. Eventually, it changes when the leather starts to drag through blood.

—

Something touches my face and I lash out. She’s already keeping her distance so, thankfully, I don’t hit her before I realize where I am.

“M’sorry,” I croak, trying to focus on her face. I can’t let myself focus on anything else.

She’s sitting on her heels, pressed into the corner between her bed and the cabinet, her fingers twisted together. When I meet her gaze, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the floor, lowering herself into my line of sight. Her wide eyes are puffy and rimmed with red.

I hate to think of her crying again.

She tilts her head to the side, gaze slipping from my face to my legs. When she looks at me again, she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth.

I don’t know if I can push myself up to really look. My head still feels heavy and clouded, either from the pain or from however long it has been since I last ate. I look over my shoulder as best I can, head aching when my eyes reach the limit of their range of motion. My calves are wrapped in clean white gauze and so are my feet. The borders of the pain had been so blurred, I had no idea it included my feet.

“S’not so bad,” I mumble.

I look back at her, too fast, and my head swims.

“Mnnnm,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.

When I open them after a few breaths, she’s holding a cup of water. Tilts it gently against my lips so I don’t have to move. She gets me a second cup when I finish.

“Thank you, Doll,” I say, smiling what I hope is a non-threatening smile.

She dips her head once in a nod and looks me over again, bites her lip.

“What is it?” I ask, even though I’m guessing she won’t answer.

Her eyes look up to the bed.

There’s only one reason I’m not screaming in pain and that’s because I am not moving. I can pretend that the pain is a separate entity, far away. If I move, it will migrate, overbearing and all-consuming.

“I think I’ll just spend the night here,” I say casually like I’m just going to stay at my parents’ because I don’t feel like driving back to campus. I wonder if they even care that I’m missing.

She purses her lips and looks down at the floor.

It’s wet. I know this. I can feel that my clothes are damp but it’s just as likely sweat. It doesn’t feel particularly dirty even though I’m sure it’s also not clean.

“Sweetie, I don’t think I can move,” I whisper.

That doesn’t go over well. She seems so distraught by the idea. Her eyes flick all over the room like she’s hoping to suddenly find some other way to help me as she presses her trembling lips together. I find myself willing to undergo a little suffering if there’s any chance it will comfort her.

“Okay, hey—I’ll give it a try,” I offer, unconvincing in my attempt to sound light. I start pushing myself onto my hands and knees.

She rushes to help me even though she flinches away from me and I’m pretty sure I could overlap my fingers, maybe even twice, around her upper arm. I get my body onto the bed and then she proves herself stronger than she looks when she lifts my legs, one at a time, so I don’t have to.

I’m still winded and dizzy by the time I get up there. I’ve never felt so exhausted.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” I manage to huff.

That earns me a twitch of her lip. The closest thing I’ve seen to a smile since we met.

She brings me another cup of water. Helps me drink and then gently sweeps my hair off my forehead so she can dab a cool cloth there. She refolds the towel and leaves it draped over the back of my neck before moving to sit on her bed. She tucks her feet underneath her legs and starts playing with her hair. She finds a braid, undoes it, and seperates it into two even smaller braids, quickly, over and over. I fall asleep watching her long, nimble fingers.

—

She wakes me up later, or maybe it’s the next day, with another wet cloth but the first thing I notice is that I can smell food. Her gaze directs me to the two soups sitting on the metal cabinet but she looks back at me, furrowing her brow.

“I think I can sit up,” I say, guessing her concern.

She holds onto my shoulders as I do it, even though if I went down she’d go with me. I sit with my knees up and gingerly place my feet on the mattress in front of me. It seems they only caught stray lashes, so they aren’t feeling nearly as awful as my calves. I lean my head against the wall to catch my breath. I’m sweating and dizzy from the movement, I need to eat.

She comes to sit next to me with the soup, clearly intending to feed it to me with the plastic spoon.

I smile at her. “You’re such an angel—you don’t have to do that.”

She shakes her head, looking down, like she doesn’t mind, but passes me the soup anyway.

About halfway through scarfing it down, she reaches over to rest her fingertip on the handle of my spoon before I can use it to shovel more into my mouth.

“Oh, I should probably eat slower…”

She dips her head once in a nod, then looks down at her hands.

“You should eat, too, while it’s still hot,” I tell her.

Her dark eyes trace my posture and search my face.

I insist, “I’m feeling much better, I promise. Please eat.”

She turns and I notice the whole side of her face is bruising. It wasn’t there before, they must have taken her while I was asleep. Even the corner of her eye looks bloodshot.

“Hey, your face—” I say, reaching out without thinking.

She flinches out of reach so fast that she falls onto the ground, eyes locked on my hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, trying to keep my voice soft. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Honey. I swear I won’t hurt you.”

She swallows, still cowering on the floor, her lower lip trembling. She’s so afraid and skittish, with those impossibly wide eyes that do something to me.

I wait for a few more breaths but she still hasn’t recovered. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

My question seems to make it worse. She closes her eyes, her face growing lined, and her breathing starts to silently hitch. She’s crying.

“Hey, hey,” I murmur. I have no idea how to comfort her when I have no idea what she’s been through and I’m the idiot making it worse. “Please, it’s okay. It’s just you and me. We’re alright, Love.” I don’t even know her name so I keep calling her nicknames, feeling even more insensitive because maybe it’s coming off wrong. I don’t know what else to do. This is so messed up.

She blinks at me, finally meeting my eyes again, fresh tears still falling from hers.

My throat aches. “Look, really, I’m sorry. Please, come eat with me. I promise I won’t hurt you—I won’t touch you. Will you sit next to me again?” I sound desperate.

After a few more breaths, she does, coming to perch on the edge of my bed within arms reach but just barely, like a bird about to fly away.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

Taglist: @deluxewhump

[that-house]

Viego Rant (villainy and character design and tragedy and all that jazz)

Introduction The more I think about Viego, League of Legends’ newest character, the more enamored I am with him as a villain (unrelated to his general sexiness, though that does tie in with what makes him such a good villain).

I’ve seen a lot of complaints about his design. The Ruined King, one of the greatest threats in Runeterra, the progenitor of the Shadow Isles, the lord of the undead, is finally released as a playable champion and he looks like this:

People were expecting another Mordekaiser (who is similarly an undead king with a ghost army), a lich-tyrant clad in iron, decayed flesh peeling from an aged face. What we got was an angsty anime prettyboy, and it was infinitely better than the alternatives. 

Lore Viego isn’t a conquering king. While his combat abilities are indeed badass, his personality is far from it. He’s a whiny brat and that’s incredible. He isn’t bent on world domination. His character arc revolves around just how human, how fallible he really is. For those unfamiliar with his lore, I’ll paraphrase it here:

Viego was the second son of a great king. Overshadowed by his brother and with no expectations upon him and near-limitless wealth, he wandered around being an idiot fuckboy for the vast majority of his formative years. Disaster struck when his brother died in an accident, and Viego took the throne with no training, no experience, and no desire to be king. He was a shitty king. The worst king. Just all-around apathetic. Gave zero shits. Can you blame him? It’s a lot of responsibility to be thrust upon someone who isn’t much more than a child, and with no preparation. He didn’t care about anything, that is, until he met Isolde. She was a poor seamstress, but he fell in love with her upon their first meeting. Together they ruled the country but it was really just them staring longingly into each others’ eyes. His allies were kinda fucking pissed about that, and one day an assassin came from Viego. The assassin fucked up and stabbed Isolde instead, and the poison on the blade made her fall gravely ill. As she lay in her bed, slowly dying, Viego went mad seeking a cure. He ravaged the land seeking any knowledge that might help, pouring all of his money into finding an antidote. He failed. As a last resort, he brought Isolde’s body to the Blessed Isles, a place rumored to be able to resurrect the dead. It worked, to an extent. Isolde’s wraith, confused, afraid, and angry at being ripped from the peace of death, unthinkingly stabbed Viego in the chest with his own magic sword, creating basically a magic nuke that turned the Blessed Isles into the domain of the undead. Viego resurrected as the king of the Shadow Isles some time later, having totally forgotten that Isolde killed him. He controls a big-ass ghost army, could probably beat up any living thing in a fight, and has evil ghost magic. Now this stupid simp wants his wife back and if he has to kill every living thing on Runeterra, well, anything for his queen. He’s even a tier 3 sub to her Twitch.

Music His musical theme isn’t some heavy metal anthem or intense cinematic piece (unlike the Pentakill song named after his sword, Blade of the Ruined King). It’s mostly sad and slow, almost sinister, with a piano and a music box. It has its loud moments featuring violins and choral bits like any villainous music, but the song is mostly subtle. It is a banger though.

In the comments section of this video, someone pointed out that the music reflects his story from beginning to end:

Everything about this champion is so well done. Riot Games really outdid themselves on this one. Bravo, encore please.

Motivation While the Mordekaiser circlejerkers on r/LeagueofLegends won’t shut the fuck up about how powerful Mordekaiser is, Viego is the better villain. Mordekaiser may be a bigger threat to all life on Runeterra, but Viego is a better character. (There’s a guy on my League discord server who won’t shut up about Mordekaiser so forgive me for being pissed at Morde stans).

Mordekaiser is motivated by a desire for control, to rule the world. Viego is motivated by obsession and misplaced love. There aren’t a lot of Mordekaisers on Earth. Supervillains are rare in real life. But Viego’s motivations are a lot closer to home. People in positions of power that they don’t deserve can do a lot of harm (for example: Trump).

He’s a grieving husband who was never prepared to deal with anything more difficult than choosing what wine to drink with dinner, who is trying to get his wife back because the world had always complied to his every whim. He’s a funky mix between a truly hopeless romantic and a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum.

Obsession is scary. It’s a real-world emotional state that’s been the cause of a lot of murders over mankind’s history. In contrast, Mordekaiser’s cartoonish Genghis Khan XXL schtick isn’t something that we encounter often. Of course a superpowered ultradictator would be worse for the world, but if you give ultimate power to a random person, you’re more likely to get someone like Tighten from Megamind. Or, more relevantly, Viego.

Design His design is sexy and stupid, just like him. He wears an open shirt into battle and wields his sword like an idiot (I’ve seen all the rants about how that’s not how that sword is meant to be used) because he was never really a warrior. Even at his most violent, right before the end of his mortal life, he didn’t do much combat himself, leaving his military endeavors to his underlings. Even now that he’s essentially a god, he still has a colossal wraith army that causes far more devastation than he ever could personally.

Despite his slim build (by League of Legends standards), he easily wields his colossal sword because of the strength of his state of undeath. Like his political power when he was alive, his posthumous magical and physical powers were never something he sought out, they were just given to him by circumstance.

The big cool-ass triangle hole in his chest where Isolde stabbed him is the source of the Black Mist, which is evil ghost mist that ebbs and flows from the Shadow Isles, bringing with it hordes of the undead. The sadder Viego is, the more Mist he creates. Poetically, his invasion of the world is inspired by his sorrow at his wife’s death and enabled by his wife’s reluctance to return to him. His story is perfectly reflected by his design.

Isolde Isolde’s spirit took up residence inside a young Senna (who’s another League champion, not particularly important here). This led to some Black Mist-related shenanigans and at least for the time being, Senna uses Isolde’s power to fight off the servants of Viego which threaten all life on Runeterra.

It seems pretty clear that whatever love Isolde felt for Viego is gone by now. Whether or not she ever loved him or was just unable to say no to the king is up for debate, but I’d like to believe there was something there. In my opinion, Viego’s story hits harder if they really were a great couple at first, torn apart by circumstance and obsession.

Much like the Maiden of the Woods in that one comic that circulates around here, to whom the knight gave his heart and she was like “yo what the fuck i literally never asked you to do this,” Viego went a little too far in trying to save her. They may have once been happy, but the Ruined King ruined his own life, too.

Unless Isolde is a lot less morally decent than we’ve been led to believe, I doubt she can forgive all the massacring that her husband’s been doing lately. In the recent cinematic, she was shown to be pretty anti-Viego. Maybe she’ll get a bastardization arc, but it certainly seems unlikely.

All of Season 2021 is based around Viego, Isolde, and the Shadow Isles, so we’ll just have to see what comes next. It’s possible that we’ll get Isolde as a playable champion, which should clear a lot of things up.

Final Thoughts Unlike so many villains, he’s not fueled by rage or hatred, but rather by sorrow. He’s stuck in his past, unable to move on. He regrets the actions of his life but is set on his course now. The sunk-cost fallacy comes into play here; he’s put so much time and effort and blood into bringing back Isolde, that turning away from it would feel to him like an insult, not only to her but to the innocent lives he’s taken in her name.

His tale is a tragedy, a love story gone horrifically wrong. Viego has suffered throughout his thousand-year life. Despite this, he’s undoubtedly the villain. His permanent death would be a net positive for the world. In has rage and grief he’s destroyed multiple civilizations, and will burn down the world to get Isolde back.

His heart may be in the wrong place, but it’s in a very human place. I don’t think he’ll get the ending he’s looking for, but I hope he finds some closure in the end.

[kilibaggins]

H.G ~ Lilacs & Love

Request Rules!

Request: Not Requested!

Summary: I really don't know how to summarize this one other than with words. So 4 words.

Study. N.E.W.Ts. Flowers. And Yearning.

A/N: Okay so... I usually don't write characters who are women but I want to more! I hope this is okay. I worked hard on it. It was originally written as Fem!reader but you can read it as Masc!reader I believe!

Reblogs are always appreciated.

Warnings: I don't think there are any! If you think there are any please let me know!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N, You need to study." Hermione presses, and you chuckle softly, walking next to her.

"I don't need to do anything." You say, smirking softly at her. She turns to you and rolls her eyes. She looks at you with that look, the look that works on Ron, and Harry, but has never worked on you. You know it’s just for show. She’d never actually leave you behind. Ever since the train ride where you two had first met, you’ve been stuck to each other's sides.

“Yes, you do! How do you expect to pass N.E.W.T.’s if you don’t study! This is important.” She urges and it's your turn to roll your eyes. You take a small curl of hers and twirl it around your finger nonchalantly, and you see her cheeks turn slightly pink. You’ve always loved her hair.

“I’ll be fine. I’m winging it. Everytime I study, I do worse. Remember in Potions? I got perfect scores on 3 tests in a row, and the one time I Studied with you, I failed.” You say, and she sighs softly.

“I just… I just want you to succeed.” She says, and you smile.

“I know. I’ll be okay. My scores will be fine too.” You assure her and she nods. You’ve had these conversations a million times, but Hermione always worries about you, and you always worry about her.

“Well, if you’re not going to study, how about we go to the library, So I can study?” She asks, and you nod. Knowing that you’d follow her to the end of the world if she asked.

“When?” You ask softly, and she smiles as she runs her hand down your arm in a way to say ‘thank you’ for agreeing. As if she’d ever need to thank you for something you’d always do.

“During lunch?” She asks you softly, and you nod.

“Yeah, Sounds great.” You say, and she turns away from you to walk to her class. You stand there in the middle of the hallway for a moment watching her as she walks away, and notice people looking at you oddly. You snap out of it, and chuckle softly, embarrassed. You turn around and head to your class.

Hearing Snape drone on and on about potions would usually annoy the Hell out of you, but today, all you can think about is Hermione. You think about what you can do to make her happy. When Snape gives you back one of your graded assignments, you smile seeing that you passed it, as always.

You get dismissed, and start walking down the hallway. You see a few people from your House, and smile and wave at them as you walk by. They wave back softly, but don’t pay much attention to you, It's like their waves are always because they feel they have to. You’ve never been the most liked person in Hogwarts, and it just got worse when you were open about liking girls last year. People had started getting a little distant after that, but Hermione stayed though. She always did. You sigh and walk down the corridors until you get to a door to go outside. You exit the Castle and walk out towards the flower patch near the outside of the Castle. You kneel down and softly pick some Lilac. You’ve wanted to get Hermione flowers for a while now, but you haven’t had the time. You stand up, the Lilacs in your hands, and you smile.

After you find the Lilac, you run straight towards the library, really not caring about anything else but seeing her, you run into a few students on the way, but you don’t pay attention to them as they curse under their breath at you. When you walk into the library, you see Hermionie sitting by herself, multiple books thrown around the table. You smile softly, as you approach, admiring her. Her hair is a mess, falling in front of her face, some of it is even pointed in random directions. Her robe is off, and she’s just wearing the shirt under it, and her tie. You quietly walk over, and knock on the table, so you don't scare her. She looks up at the noise and sees that you have a hand behind you back.

“What have you done now?” She asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, You smirk and pull the Lilac from behind your back. You present it to her, and she looks at you in shock.

“Flowers, for the fair lady.” You joke and she grabs them. She smiles widely and smells them as you sit down in your chair. You watch her as she grabs her favorite book and opens it up to the front page. She puts the Lilac in and shuts it tightly. She turns to you and smiles.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She says softly, and she grabs the book she was reading and keeps reading it. You lean on the table on your elbow and watch her as she reads. You’ve recognized her mannerisms by now, after long hours in secluded spaces, just watching her study. Others may think it’s weird, but Hermione never had a problem with it, and that’s all you care about. Her eyes squint when she learns something new. Her eyebrows furrow when she's confused. Her lips twitch up when she reads a fact she already knows. You’ve thought about her lips a million times. The way they’d feel against yours, since that’s what you want the most. The way they move when she whispers to you when you can't be caught doing something wrong. They way it softens with you, and only you, on her bad days. She peaks at you, and you smile at her.

“What are you reading?” You ask, and Herminie smiles widely, and starts speaking in a quick hushed voice about everything that she has read so far. You listen intently, watching as she talks with her hands, and flips her hair around occasionally. It’s always in her face. Then, It’s time to leave for your next class, and the fact breaks your heart slightly. Hermione quickly gets up to pick up her books, but you grab your wand and pick up the mess for her. She looks at you with a small smile.

“Come On, We have to go.” She says, and grabs your hand. You smile widely as she pulls you out of the library and down the corridor. You come to the point where you have to split paths, and you smile at her.

“See You later, H.” You say softly, before you can walk off she grabs your hand. She leans forward and kisses your cheek softly. You stare at her in shock as she chuckles, and turns to walk away. You stand there in shock for a moment, everyone rushing past you towards their classes. You lift your hand up to your cheek and smile widely.

You decide right then and there, that you’ll finally make your move soon, just to feel those lips once again.

✨Taglist: @lenalxvegood

(send an ask if you want to be added to the TAGLIST)

[chongoblog]

Zero Time Dilemma Review/Ramble

Okay, so if you’ve been following me, you know that I’ve gotten into the Zero Escape series, famous for 999 and Virtue’s Last Reward, streaming both games. I recently took the time to experience the last game, Zero Time Dilemma by watching cutscenes rather than playing it proper mostly because A) I heard it was REALLY dark and didnt want to risk it on Twitch and B) I wanted to experience it more freely like while I’m at work.

After experiencing it. I have......feelings about it. And because there’s MASSIVE spoilers involved, I’m making it its own post under the ReadMore below.

tl;dr LOADS of bullshit, flawed execution, and stupid decisions, but still REALLY enjoyed it

Okay so a LOT of this is going to be complaining, and like I said in the tl;dr I still legit enjoyed this game, so I’m gonna make this a compliment sandwich by saying something nice now, loading up on complaints, then ending with more compliments. Carlos is good. So is Sean. Sigma being voiced by Matthew Mercer actually makes him more interesting imo. I REALLY like Phi’s new design and the way they build on the initial concepts brought up in VLR more accurately portray the ideas that started all the way back in 999, that being the idea of taking thoughts across timelines, just like the player. From the beginning, the theme/gimmick was always “what if your character remembered information when you savescummed?” In 999 that began as flashes of information, and in VLR the characters’ consciousness actually time traveled at the very end. ZTD now uses the idea of the consciousness traveling across time and space and RUNS with it. I also think that Delta has a cool design.

I’ll be nice again later, but now for the things I Did Not Like.

Emo Moody Junpei makes sense from a writing standpoint, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him. Maybe I just got spoiled since Evan Wilson did a spectacular job with his deliveries in 999 and in ZTD it seems like his soul got sucked out. Not the fault of the delivery as much as it is the writing. Eric is bad, and I feel like that statement isn’t controversial. I don’t think anyone likes Eric, and if you do, then sorry for shitting on him so much, but god I just don’t like him. And the abusive childhood thing doesn’t give me a drop of sympathy, but then again I’ve always hated the writing trick that “this person is shitty and pathetic but it’s because abuse!” (see also Mikan). Diane is boring (sorry).

But I fuuuuuckin HATE Mira. I hate Mira so much. Like, at first I thought she’d be alright, yeah she’s definitely The Boob Character™, but I liked Lotus well enough and Alice grew on me significantly, so I don’t see why Mira won’t. Then she’s like “surprise I’m a serial killer”. Now if they just made her a serial killer, it would be kinda boring so I’m glad they TRIED something new. I just think the result was bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad. Like....”hmm I never felt any emotions so when my mom told me they were kept in hearts I just ripped em out of people :)” is some garbage I’d write in middle school when I felt especially edgy. Also yeah seems p ableist. I won’t go too deeper into Mira, since she’s a sociopath and I don’t know enough about the actual disorder to put a candle to the real thing, but....bleh.

I won’t touch on THIS aspect for too long because I’m aware that it had barely any budget and it wouldn’t have happened without a kickstarter (don’t know the details), but the animation is just....so stiff. It really takes away from the dramatic impact some scenes are meant to have. But even IF the animation wasn’t stiff, I still am not a big fan of the darker and moodier direction it went. Although that’s moreso down to personal preference. Final note about the presentation (which is by far the game’s weakest aspect) is that I noticed multiple points in the sound mixing got to nearly Sonic Adventure 2 levels of being unable to understand what people were saying.

Alright. Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s talk about Delta. This is going to make up a MAJORITY of this post so strap in.

Delta is a meme. There’s no other way to say it briefly. He’s just such a huge fucking meme. Almost everything about him, from his plan to his “complex” motives to his backstory to his powers. I mentioned liking his design, but fuck it. That’s a meme now too. Delta is the stupidest part of the game, and as much as I kind of love it, I also need to complain about it.

First let’s talk about Delta’s plan (because it starts with the nicest part of this segment). His motives are “complex” which is actually greek for “he’s probably either a liar, an idiot, or both”. I said there was nice things, so I’ll start with those. The very ending’s “ah ah ah. I never killed any of you in this timeline. If you arrested someone for crimes of another history, there would be criminals everywhere” was something I actually legitimately enjoyed. Yeah, intent was still there and he’s still a bastard (plus there was kidnapping and non-consensual drugging involved so kind of a stupid take), but I still thought it was a fun attempt. And also the “I had to make sure I was born” thing is a mindfuck, and I love those. Basically the first retort is “well I’m alive, right? So I don’t need to make sure I was born with powers because I WAS born with powers, which means it happened in another universe. So I don’t have to.” Only to then realize that we’re just in the universe where he DID do that but then the only justification is “someone had to” right? Wrong. Let’s talk about the rest of his “complex” motives

So I give a pass to “I had to make sure I was born”, but now we see why he had to do this whole deal and what he declares at the end of the game. That there’s some religious fanatic who intends to blow up the world and completely end humanity. And he released Radical-6 in the VLR timeline hoping that it would kill the terroris only killing 4 billion people instead of 6 billion people. In the timeline at the end of ZTD, he says that they had used this experience to hone the skills of the Shifters that way they could use their newly honed take down the religious fanatic WITHOUT Radical-6 and save the world.

What?

Now......before I tear into this.....I have ONE nice thing to say. The “unleash radical 6 and kill 4 billion vs let a terrorist end humanity” gambit IS cleverly foreshadowed with the radical 6 decision game with Q Team. But also wouldn’t that have made, like 1800 times more narrative sense to give that decision game to team D who KNOWS the impact of radical 6, or team C who he explains this plan to later on? Damn, even my nice thing was backhanded. Alright let’s REALLY tear into it.

FIRST of all, this is the exact same plot of Virtue’s Last Reward. Only difference is that somehow Akane and Junpei are just as skilled at this technique as Sigma and Phi despite the latter going to do Moon Training (granted the moon training was also to give them enough of a jump to go back 45 years). Speaking of Virtue’s Last Reward, this game also reveals that Delta is Brother, the leader of Free the Soul. A group of religious fanatics. So I wouldn’t be especially shocked if the religious fanatic is working with Free the Soul. But for the sake of this argument, let’s just say they aren’t with FtS. How in the Flavor-Blasted FUCK does he know this? Did somebody Shift back from that timeline and then just get Mind hacked (and we’ll fUCKING talk about Mind Hacking dont you worry)? How would that be the only piece of information known about the end of the god damn world? And if there IS more, then why the fuck wouldn’t you tell them the information? How does he know that it’s inevitable when apparently a god damn snail can unleash Radical-6?

I call bullshit on the “religious fanatic” thing. Wanna know why? Because at this point, Delta had already founded Free The Soul. He started this shit in 1938. At this point in time, he and the rest of the Free the Soul had already kidnapped Alice’s dad to create clones of his dead brother. He was pushing for a new world order and then in the VLR timeline, tried to PREVENT this whole thing from happening by sending Dio to the Moon. So if he actually gave a shit about “honing their abilities” then why would he do everything in his power to stop it? There is ONE out that there can be, but it’s something not even HINTED at (and I’ll talk about this later), but I think that "religious fanatic” is a big ol’ lie that he made up to try and save face when he was faced with a consequence, but even that explanation makes no sense since he’s like “lol shoot me if u wanna I wont mind hack you”

And let’s talk about mind hacking. Let’s fucking talk about Mind Hacking. Adding Mind Hacking was stupid, completely pointless, out of left field, and actively makes Delta a worse character. For those that don’t know, Mind Hacking is an ability that only Delta has (and I guess the player character technically but that’s a whole meta thing from VLR that doesn’t get followed up on) where you can read people’s minds and also fuckin control them. Why? Why was this necessary, ZTD? You wanna know what I thought was really neat? When I saw that different timelines produced different X-Codes. I thought “oh shit, I know this is Game Stuff, but the sheer foresight of the villain to do that? That’s some Moriarty shit.” It would require some insane explanations, but we’ve had enough sci-fi that we could imagine with enough advanced tech, you could set up systems that could use conditionals to give certain responses based on certain outcomes. Like if someone dies after the decontamination room button is pressed, then the central computer outputs a different X-Code than if it’s after the initial vote. Just make up a new tech that accounts for Shifting (plus the QUANTUM COMPUTER you have RIGHT THERE) and you could make a villain with so much calculated foresight that he’s just a god damn genius. But no. Mind hacking. None of that interesting stuff, just “lol I read ur mind idiot”. No outwitting anyone, just “lol get mindhacked eric u scrub bang bang”.

Honest to god, honest to FUCKING god, do you want to know how cool the final cutscene would have made Delta look if he walked out and just KNEW what happened in another timeline because of his plans. Like everyone recognizes him as Delta and he just goes “ohoho I see you had a fun time in my other timeline” using that deduction alone. But nah, he’s just like “yo I just mindhacked y’all, nice experience y’all had” I hate mind hacking so much. There’s no part of his plan where he NEEDED to mind hack in order to succeed that could have been written without mind hacking.

Now there’s a bit of a missed opportunity here that could both make mind hacking relevant, made his motive not shit, and also maybe even developed him into a SUPER interesting character! I know this is a bit fanfic-y, but hear me out. Make Delta a VICTIM of the stable time loop/bootstrap paradox. For those who don’t know, the bootstrap paradox is when time travel makes certain events happen seemingly out of thin air since they are their own cause. Basically it’s this clip from Milo Murphy. This is something that seems like it’s KINDA there in the subtext, but if they actually dove into it, they could have a GOLD mine.

What if we keep the mindhacking, and before he even MAKES Free the Soul, he mindhacks someone who experienced the events of the “religious fanatic”. But not just anyone. An experienced SHIFTer who made it their goal to stop this religious fanatic. After hundreds of attempts, they still fail. Delta sees this and determines it to be inevitable. So he’s having fun, cursed by the knowledge of an inevitable apocalypse. Then he meets Akane, Phi, Sigma, or Junpei after they had undergone the events of VLR and ZTD. He learns that particular timeline. A bleak future, yes, but one single future where humanity is alive. He sees two futures, one in which all of humanity dies, and one where he is the leader of a religious cult that wipes out 4 Billion People with a deadly pandemic. And the idea of being that person disgusts him. He despises it. But he’s completely resigned to fate. He knows that things must go precisely as he’s seen at the price of humanity, too frightened by such a burden to even take a toe off of the predetermined pathway. His motive is that he’s so tightly bound to fate and so afraid to let it slip that he has no choice but to commit the atrocities, despising himself for it every step of the way, but considering it better than the inevitable alternative. It would give a purpose for the mindhacking powers, it would give him a solid motive, and it would make the ending SO much stronger, showing the contrast between a group of SHIFTers confident that they can change fate and the man who is completely resigned to his own. Fuck, I might steal this character concept because I REALLY think this idea would work to make an interesting villain!

Like I mentioned, this is KINDA there in subtext (with him quite frequently saying “life truly is unfair”) and this could be an interpretation of the character, but if ZTD had explored that theme, then holy hell what an interesting character Delta would be.

But even WITH this fix, holy hell, this plan is stupid. Because guess what, dingus. You just created like 30 new timelines that all end in annihilation.

He coulda said ONE line about “even if there is only one history that ends nicely, that is solace enough”, that might have been dark, but still powerful. You know, add some depth. But instead, he’s just like “hmm hmm shoot me”

And the Q Twist? I’m honestly not as mad at it as I should be. On one hand, it does that cute thing where there are little bits of foreshadowing so when you rewatch it, you notice little bits like shadows and stuff, but on the other hand, there are PLENTY of points where either the camera just straight up lies to you and doesn’t show him when he should be there or Delta’s just been fuckin SHMOOVIN on his wheelchair around the room constantly to stay out of the camera and everyone’s just been kinda chill with it. Maybe if they had been more careful with the camera it could have delivered a TOUCH better. Like, even if the shots are a bit off, that’s noticeable enough to be part of the hint, no? I don’t have as much to say about this, mostly because this post is getting long as fuck so I’m gonna wrap it up so I can move on with my life for a bit.

So even with ALL OF THAT, I still enjoyed playing the game. That’s right, compliment sandwich time. The three wards all being one ward was a really neat reveal. The fact that you can shoot Delta in one scene is creative with its replay value. I’m glad they touched on the philosophical idea of what happens to the people who made it out from the coin flip only to get SHIFTed into the exploding lab, and exploring that idea was fun. I absolutely lost my mind at the idea of the gun to sigmas head had a random chance of firing and then seeing it elaborated on in the dice scene directly after it. Gab is a good boy.

Cant wait to play AI

[love-and-monsters]

Starfaller

Agender tiefling X gn reader. 7,005 words.

You’ve fallen into a strange world. Things are unfamiliar and strange, but at least you’ve got a cute doctor to look out for you.

“Come now, sugar. Open your eyes.” Someone was shaking your shoulder gently, but insistently. You didn’t want to wake up. Pain radiated along your back, growing sharper the closer to wakefulness you got. “Up you get. There you go.”

Your eyelids flickered open. Bright sunlight fille d the room with a blinding yellow-white glow. You were lying on some kind of cushy couch, across the room from a set of large, glass doors. The room looked like some sort of old-fashioned apothecary, with pale wooden walls and a floor. Dried and partially-dried herbs hung from the lofted ceiling. Cabinets with glass doors lined the room, full of plants and vials of liquid and metal devices made for measuring. The smell was sharp and made your nose itch faintly.

“Here. Drink this.” Someone cupped your head in their hand. A cup pressed against your lips. It was cool, and the water that flowed into your desiccated mouth tasted pure and crystalline. You gulped it furiously. Oh, god, it was so good, like someone was pouring a sparkling stream of energy down your throat.

“That’s it. Good.” The cup moved away from your lips. You made a quiet noise of protest. “I know, but you have to go slowly. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t.”

You turned your head, wincing as the motion pulled your muscles. Every breath hurt, like you’d pulled every muscle in your chest and back. The person who had been allowing you to drink was sitting next to you, hand still resting on the back of your head. “There you are. You’re looking a bit better now, aren’t you?”

They smiled, revealing needle-sharp fangs. You felt something in your stomach drop and twist. This person wasn’t a human. They were pale, with nearly pure white skin and white-blonde hair. Their eyes were pale as well, with pink markings along their cheekbones and forehead. Their hair was tied back into a short braid, carefully woven around their enormous, curving horns. They wore a long, pale robe, a long, thin tail with a thick tuft of white-blond hair at the tip. Their feet ended in short, white fur and white, cloven hooves. Their eyes gleamed oddly in the sunlight, their pupils several shades too pale.

“Oh, dear. Lie back down, you look awfully wan. Might have sat up a bit too quick.” Their voice was soft and accented in a way you couldn’t quite identify. Maybe vaguely southern? “Here. Drink.”

Another cup was pressed to your lips. This one was warm and tasted savory. It made your stomach growl. You were starving, lightheaded with hunger. Your fingers fumbled to cling to the bowl, trying to gulp it faster. “Easy there. Slowly.” The bowl was tugged from your mouth once more. “Though it’s good you have an appetite.”

Your caretaker allowed you to drink slowly, pressing the cup to your lips and taking it back away in intervals. Eventually, you managed to drink all of it, your tongue flicking out to get the last few drops from the bottom. “There you are.” Your caretaker ran a hand over your forehead. “All right. It’s good that you got some food in you.”

You sagged back onto the couch. The longer you remained awake, the worse the pain in your torso was getting. Every breath was a struggle. “You must be in a lot of pain,” your caretaker murmured. “Hold on. I’ll get you something for that.” They moved away to one of their cabinets and returned with a spoon and a tiny vial of a green liquid. “This should help with the pain. It’s quite potent, though, and it won’t taste nice.” They tipped a few drops onto the spoon. “Here.”

A flicker of concern moved through you, but it seemed silly not to trust them. They seemed to be taking care of you, at least. The spoon touched your lips and you sipped the droplets from it.

The effect was immediate. For a moment, your mouth tasted sharp and nasty, then a wave of numbness spread outward from everywhere the drops had touched. You sagged back onto the couch. Your eyelids drooped. “Get some sleep. It’ll help you recover,” your caretaker said. “I’ll be back to check on you later.” The world fuzzed and faded as they stood and started to walk away.

You woke again some time later, this time under your own volition. The sun had set, making the room mercifully dim. You were still in pain, but it seemed distant, less urgent.

Grimacing, you rolled onto your side. The caretaker was nowhere you could see. Across the room, you could see the beautiful night sky through the window.

It was more breathtaking than any night sky you had ever seen before. There were thousands of stars, more than you could ever remember seeing. There were even variations of color across the sky, from dark blue to purple to even a few splashes of green. Sitting high at the apex of the sky were two gently glowing moons.

Your breath caught in your throat. The caretaker had obviously not been human, which had been strange, but this. This confirmed it. You weren’t just in some strange place with nonhuman creatures. You were in some entirely different world.

From behind your head, a door creaked. You twisted around, ignoring the sharp pain in your chest. “Ah, you’re awake again. Good.” Your caretaker placed a basket on the table and swept off their coat. “How are you feeling?”

Your voice cracked as you tried to speak. “Wh- Where…”

“Here. Wet your throat. You’ve been out for a while.” They swept over to you, holding a cup. “There you are. Can you hold it yourself? Good.”

Again, the water was cool and clear and you drank it desperately. “Where,” you sputtered as soon as your mouth was no longer achingly dry, “Where am I?”

“Ah.” The caretaker took the bowl back form your hands. “I take it you realized you’re not home anymore.”

“There’s two moons,” you said. “And… and you’re not… human.”

“Mn. No. I’m not. Your Fall must have been particularly bad if you’ve never even met a tiefling before.” They gave you a sympathetic look. “You’re fortunate you weren’t more injured, really. Only a few cracked ribs and some bad bruising.”

“Then where am I?” you insisted. The caretaker gave you a soft, soothing smile.

“In specific, you’re in my house, the healer’s residence of Torthall. It’s a small town in the kingdom of Ristoranth- though I suppose we haven’t been a proper kingdom in a couple of decades.” They paused. “But that’s not terribly helpful to you, is it? Hm. Well, have you ever heard of the theory of multiple worlds?”

You mulled that over. “Like multiple universes?”

“Mm, yes. Roughly. There are many different worlds, and a lot of them overlap. Some of them overlap rarely, and some of them have many overlaps. We call the ones with many overlaps hub worlds.” They made a vague gesture at the world around you. “This world is a hub world. When two worlds overlap, things have a tendency to slip through the gaps. Sometimes they’re small, but sometimes, people slip through.”

You took a deep, slow breath. “I slipped through the gap between your world and my world?”

“Yes. That’s pretty much the summation of it. There’s some more metaphysical aspects to it, some complicated things that I won’t even pretend to understand, but the basic gist of it all is that people often slip through the cracks between the universes and land here. Usually there are a few dozen Starfallers every year. We call them Starfallers,” they clarified. “Usually they fall from the sky, out of a flash of light. The scars last for a few days, like large stars.” They tilted their head back toward the windows. “We could probably still see it, if we went outside.”

You curled your fingers around the blankets. “How do I get home?”

The caretaker’s face went still. “Ah.” The noise was soft and hesitant and confirmed all of your worst fears. “It’s… I don’t want to say that it’s impossible. There have been a few Starfallers who have gotten back. But… Hm. It’s a bit like we’re at the bottom of a funnel. It’s quite easy to get down here, but it’s difficult to get back up. And yours… well, if your world has no active magic component, then it’s likely quite far away from ours. It’s not impossible, but it’s not likely for you to get back either.”

You swallowed hard. The back of your eyes stung. “So, I’m stuck here.”

They folded their hands in their lap. “I’m afraid it’s the most likely scenario.”

You were trying to keep your face still, but your lips were twitching insistently downward. Your breath kept catching and stuttering in your chest. “Oh, dear. Here, it’s all right.” The caretaker fished something out of their pocket and passed it to you. You buried your face in the handkerchief as the tears started falling. “There, there. I know.”

You snuffled, mopping at your eyes. “I’m s-sorry, I hate crying in front of other people.”

“Oh, hush. Don’t apologize.” They smiled softly. “I could turn my back, if you’d like.” You snorted. “But seriously, I’m a healer. I’ve seen many people cry. It won’t make me think any less of you.”

They stroked along your back as you cried until, finally, you had exhausted your water supply. You slumped back onto your pillows. “Feeling any better?” the caretaker asked. They brushed a hand along the top of your head, then swiped away a few of your tears with a thumb.

“I don’t know.” There was still a knot of emotion in your chest, but it had loosened ever so slightly. “I think so.”

“You should probably get some more sleep,” the caretaker said. They stood up. “We can keep talking in the morning.” They yawned. “Both of us need some sleep, really. I’ll see you in the morning.” They gave you an affectionate pat on the head before striding out of the room.

You had expected to have trouble falling asleep, but crying had apparently taken it out of you. Before you knew it, you were blinking your eyes open in bright sunlight. The room was full of the sound and smell of cooking eggs. The caretaker was wearing a purple and gold robe, bent over a fire. “Good morning,” they said, smiling over their shoulder at you.

“Morning,” you croaked. You pushed yourself upright. Your muscles were still sore, but you felt better than you had the night before. “Do I get breakfast?”

The caretaker laughed. “I’m certainly not going to starve you. Though you should eat slowly. Starfalling can do some strange things to your insides.”

You gratefully accepted your plate of eggs. They looked and tasted pretty much exactly like chicken eggs, which was a relief. The caretaker sat down next to you, chewing idly on their own breakfast.

“I don’t know your name,” you said hesitantly after a few moments of eating in silence.

“Silaris. You can just call me Sil.” They smiled. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better. I think.”

“Mm. That’s good. You’ll probably be able to get out of bed today, though you should take it easy. I don’t want you to do anything that will exacerbate your injuries.”

You took a careful bite of eggs off your fork and chewed it slowly. “What, uh. What happens now? I mean… what happens now that I’m here?”

Sil lowered their fork. “I’ll get you in contact with the Starfaller agency. They’ve got a small fund they set aside for Starfaller relief, so you’ll get an allowance for a few months until you’re adjusted. They’ll probably also interview you about what you did in your world, to see what relevant skills you have.” They patted your hand. “Don’t look so worried, sugar. We’re going to make sure you’re safe here.”

“I don’t know if I have any relevant skills I can use here,” you said. “I worked in tech support back in my world. Unless you need someone who’s good with computers here…” Your breaths were starting to come more shallowly. The edges of panic were creeping into your voice.

“Hey. Hey.” Sil took hold of your hands. “Breathe. You’re all right.” They smiled soothingly at you. “If you don’t have any skills that will work for this world, we can get you apprenticed to someone. I’m sure there’s someone who can take you on.”

You took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“It’s certainly no trouble. Right now, you shouldn’t worry too much. Just try to focus on getting better.” Sil stood. “Your appetite seems healthy, at least.” Your fork scraped against your plate and you looked down. It was empty. You’d been absently shoveling food into your mouth the entire time they’d been speaking. “Ah, don’t look embarrassed. It’s good. If you weren’t hungry, I’d be worried.” They stood, taking your plate. “Give me a moment.”

They left the room. You took their absence as an opportunity to fully assess yourself. Aside from being painfully stiff and needing to breathe shallowly, you felt all right. Your chest was bound in bandages. Bracing yourself against the couch, you pushed yourself to your feet.

Your legs were shaky, but willing to support your weight. You took a few cautious steps. Your side blazed in protest. Every breath made your damaged ribs throb. Grinding your teeth, you took a few cautious steps across the room.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be walking around so quickly.” You looked over. Sil was standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “You must be in better shape than I thought. How do you feel?”

“It hurts,” you admitted. “And-” The wooziness you’d been holding at bay by sheer force of will finally pushed its way into your head. You wobbled on your feet.

“Oh, dear. All right.” Sil half caught you, half propped you back up. “Sit back down.” They pushed you back over to the couch, easing you down. “It’s good that you can be up and about. Any nausea, intensifying pain?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Here, take some of this.” Sil held out a tiny, thimble-sized glass with a pale, cloudy liquid in it. “It’s an infusion of a few herbs, often referred to as ‘bone-knit’. It’ll help with the pain.”

You tossed the liquid back and grimaced. It was bitter beyond belief. “Ugh!”

“Not pleasant, I know.” Sil took the bottle back from you. “I’m going to need to go out for a little bit, just to get some more supplies. Just rest while I’m gone, all right? I’ll be back soon.”

��Sure,” you said, leaning back onto the couch. Sil smiled, gave you an affectionate pat on the head, then turned and walked out of the room.

You heard the door open and shut. Your ribs prickled, not just aching, but also itching. It was constant, insistent, and it made it impossible to sleep. After several minutes of trying, you gave up.

Walking was still a little shaky, but you managed to complete a circuit of the room. Most items were fairly uninteresting, or at least not anything you found helpful. One of the cabinets had a series of medical instruments that looked only vaguely familiar, not that you had much experience with medical devices. Another cabinet contained strange herbs and stones, each of them labeled. A leather-bound journal sat on the bottom of the shelf. You picked it up, flicking through the pages. Drawings of leaves and stones and even a few pressed flowers sat on the pages.

On first inspection, you couldn’t read most of the writing and assumed it was in some strange language. After looking a little longer, though, you realized that the handwriting was simply so messy it looked like another language. With some squinting and puzzling, you could decode most of it. It was a handwritten journal, listing the locations, growing seasons, and medical properties of each plant.

When Sil returned home, you were still flipping through their notebook. “Sorry I’m late,” they said. “I got caught up in town. There was a toddler with a bit of a cold and his father was terribly worried. What are you reading?”

You closed the journal, a little embarrassed. “I was just looking through your journal. It’s interesting.”

“It’s not anything truly spectacular. Just my own notes on what sort of plants and stones have what sort of uses. I’m sure you could find a basic medical book that has the exact same information,” Sil said, but they looked faintly pleased. “Speaking of reading, I got you a few things.” They swung their bag off their shoulder and rummaged inside it. “Some books. Basic history, basic science, basic culture.”

You took the books from Sil and flipped through them. They had thick pages and were mostly illustrations. “These are books for children.”

“Well, yes,” Sil said, scratching at the back of their neck. “I’m afraid so. I’ve got a couple more advanced books for you, but I though you should start with those first. You’ll need to learn about our world, and children’s books do give the most basic knowledge.” You grimaced.

“I suppose.” You picked up the book titled The History of Ristoranth. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get these for me.”

“As I keep telling you, it’s really no trouble. Start reading. I’ll get us some lunch.” Sil swept out of the room and you picked up the book and started flipping through it.

It was amazing how quickly you settled into a routine. You spent much of your time trying to understand the world you were suddenly in. Despite some strange similarities, like the languages being identical, there were some massive differences in the basic laws of nature.

“I’m sorry, you can grow new rocks?” you asked. Over the past couple of weeks, you’d taken to confirming your most surprising discoveries with Sil. There had been an embarrassing few days where you’d assumed the kingdom had actually been named after the first Queen’s three pet birds, until Sil had explained that was a metaphor.

“They were her advisors. Or consorts. No one’s sure. But they always were referred to as her birds in fable, because they were each nicknamed after a sort of bird. Anyway, they may have had shape changing abilities, but they weren’t really her pet birds. Didn’t you think it was odd that she went to them for advice?”

Given some of the other things you read about, the idea of the Queen using real birds as her advisors didn’t seem that unusual. “There were mentions of her going to animals for advice before.”

“Those weren’t real animals. Those were spirits.” Sil made it sound like this should be patently obvious. You sighed.

“Anyway. You have… Farm quarries?”

“Specialists grow new gemstones all the time. I mean, you need a seed gemstone, and some quarries just produce metals or certain forms of clay and such, but yes. They do.” Sil looked at you questioningly. “How does your world get new materials?”

“We find them,” you said. “I mean, we can dig them up. And things change form. Eventually you can make coal or graphite or something into diamonds. But you can’t just take a gemstone and make it get bigger.”

“From what I know, it’s a little more complicated than that. It’s about agitating the crystalline structures using the harmonic resonance of magic and transitioning new materials into the same structure as-” Sil trailed off. “Er. This isn’t making any sense to you, is it?”

You shook your head. “And this references weather control?”

“Oh. High level mages manage the weather.” You rubbed your forehead. “How do you ensure that the weather is appropriate in your world?”

“We don’t! We just try to predict it and deal with it as best we can.”

Sil’s brows furrowed. “But crops rely on certain weather patterns. How do you ensure best yield if you don’t have weather management?”

“I just said, we don’t. If something like that happens… food prices go up, I guess, or we do without.”

Sil looked disturbed at the very concept. That was one of the other things you’d noticed. Their world seemed… gentler, in some ways. More forgiving. The weather could be managed, and rare materials could be obtained with little effort. There wasn’t as much scarcity.

“It’s extropic,” you said. Sil gave you a bewildered look. “Er, instead of entropic. It’s extropic.”

“You’ve lost me.” Sil closed their book. “What are we talking about?”

“Your world. My world is entropic, which means it moves away from order and toward chaos. This world’s the opposite, extropic. It moves toward order. Through magic, I would assume. But it means that you aren’t as concerned with… I don’t know, losing resources.” You flipped your book closed. “It’s a lot less cutthroat than my world. I guess because you can always be reassured there will be enough to go around.”

Sil didn’t seem to entirely understand what you were musing about, but they understood that you were melancholy. “Do you miss your home?”

“Yeah. I do.” You pushed yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain in your side. Sil had been giving you some kind of potion that stitched your ribs back together rapidly, but they still ached after a couple of weeks. “Even if it was a hard place to live, it had some advantages. Like the internet.”

“The what?”

“Ah. Never mind.” You stretched and groaned. “Ow.”

“I did tell you that you should rest,” Sil said. They had been growing more insistent on you staying in bed the longer you stayed with them, as you had grown more insistent on getting up and walking around. It felt wrong to be lying around in bed while Sil worked.

“I can’t just lie around forever. I want to help out,” you said. “I can’t keep being a drain on you.”

Sil’s face scrunched up. “People aren’t a drain. I became a healer to help people get better. I’m helping you do that right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re not getting paid to take care of me. I can at least pay you back another way.” Sil stared at you, head tilted slightly to one side. That seemed to be a difference in the worlds. There was some system that at least resembled capitalism, with shops and craftspeople and the like, but Sil never seemed concerned about money, even though they didn’t really charge most of the people who came to see them.

“You don’t need to pay me back,” Sil said, but you glared and they gave up on protesting. “All right, all right, if you’re going to insist on helping me, I suppose I wouldn’t want to turn down the extra help. Come. I’m making salves and antiseptics. It’s fairly easy. Shouldn’t strain you at all.”

Sil took you across the room to a small worktable covered in bundles of herbs. “All right. Take these three herbs and roll them in the binding sap, then mash it all together. It’ll create an antiseptic paste that also has some numbing agents in it. Very useful for bad cuts.”

You sat down across from Sil and started separating herbs and mixing them in the way Sil had instructed. It was slow, soothing work. “And you sell these?”

“Mn. Mostly. I’ve given some away, if the customer can’t pay.” Sil gathered a bundle of herbs together and examined them for a moment before tying them together. “You’re very concerned about money.”

“Oh. I don’t mean to be shallow or anything. It’s just… I was very concerned about money in my own world. I was pretty poor.” You carefully scooped every last bit of the paste you’d made into a jar and set it aside. “I was actually about to lose my apartment because I couldn’t pay rent. It was something I thought about a lot back then. I guess I can’t get rid of the worry even now.”

Sil seemed vaguely disturbed by the concept, but didn’t say anything. You got the idea they were refraining from critiquing your home out of sheer politeness.

“We’ll need to go to market a little later today,” they said, gently changing the subject. “Would you like to come?”

You perked up at that. “You’ll let me?” Sil had been cautious about letting you leave the house, probably out of an overabundance of caution.

“I can tell you’re getting cagey,” Sil said. They gave a small, fond smile. “I know I’ve been trying to keep you from doing very much, and I know that’s frustrating. I assure you, I won’t keep it up forever. I just don’t want you to be injured.” Their smile widened. “It would be a shame if anything happened to a cute thing like you.”

You started, face burning. Sil had a habit of dropping little compliments into conversation. Either they were unaware of how much it flustered you, or they found it amusing. Sil turned back to their bundle of herbs, leaving you to think on that.

Were they flirting with you? It was… well, you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. They were cute, certainly. Their little fangs were almost painfully adorable, as was their habit of absently humming to themselves and the way their tail curled around one of their legs when they were nervous. And, well, their personality certainly wasn’t half bad either. Caring, gentle, a good sense of humor.

On the other hand… well, they might not be flirting with you. They seemed generally friendly, so it might just be them being nice, or caring for you because you were their patient. Would they even want to consider dating you after treating you as their ward? Were you even really crushing on them or would the feelings fade once you left them?

Sil cleared their throat. “Something wrong?”

You startled out of your thoughts. “Uh, no. Just thinking.”

Sil lifted an eyebrow. “You were staring at me.” Did they sound amused? Flattered? Pleased? Were you reading too much into this?

“I was just staring off into space,” you said. Sil looked at you for a moment longer, then went back to their work. You breathed a sigh of relief. Your heart fluttered rapidly in your chest.

About half an hour later, you had finished prepping the herbs and Sil was preparing for market. They pulled a coat over their shoulders and held out one for you. “You’re still feeling all right?” they asked as they slid the coat on for you. “The pain isn’t too bad?”

“It’s fine. Honestly, it’s itching more than anything.” The feeling of your ribs stitching themselves together manifested as a nearly constant pricking under your skin. Attempting to scratch only made the pain worse, so you had to grit your teeth and deal with it.

“That’s good,” Sil said. “It means it’s healing.”

You rolled your eyes as Sil opened the door and stepped outside. “You would say that. You’re not the one who has to experience it.”

Sil laughed and made a sympathetic clucking noise with their tongue. “I’ll see if I can’t make you something to soothe it when we get back home. But it is good that you’re healing. You’ll be able to go out on your own soon.”

A flicker of nervousness jumped through your stomach. “Mmhm,” you murmured. Sil didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. They strode down the dirt pathway that led to the proper town, the hand on your back gently steering you along.

Sil had taken you into town a couple of times before, though only for a brief time and always with the maximum amount of concern and fussing. This time, they were actually content to let you walk away from them, though you could feel their eyes on you like a hawk.

“Looks like the little human is up and about again!” You tried not to jump in surprise as a booming voice echoed out from a shop. A tall, muscular woman with a cow’s head stood in the doorway of her shop, arms folded over her chest. She was the town tailor, and stood at least six and a half feet tall. Her calling you little was less about your shortness and more about the fact that everyone was shorter than she was. You’d met her out of necessity, as she was the one who’d gotten you most of your clothes.

“Hi, Matilda,” you said. “Yeah. And thanks for all the clothes, by the way. They fit really well.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased with them. Not my best work. I’ll need to get some more measurements to get you some more fitted stuff.” She nodded at Sil. “As long as they allow it, of course.”

“Not yet. The ribs aren’t fully healed, and I know you don’t mean to, but sometimes you don’t know your own strength,” Sil said. “I’m sure we’ll be back to get some more clothes at another time.” Matilda shrugged and gave you a small wink.

“Come back anytime, dear.” She headed back into the shop. Sil rested a hand on your back and led you further into the town.

“We’re just going to get some supplies,” Sil said, glancing down at the list they were carrying. “I need more bandages. And some more food. Hm, and I suppose it’ll be good, now that you’re feeling better, to show you around town.” They tucked the list back into their pocket. “You are still feeling well, yes?”

“Sil, I’m fine.” They looked concerned, still, but they dropped the subject.

The town Sil was a part of was ridiculously quaint, at least by your standards. According to Sil, it was actually fairly advanced. You were at least glad the place had running water and indoor plumbing. Still, it was a closely knit community where, if you needed something, you were probably going to go to someone in town to get it. There was a potter, a blacksmith, a carpenter. Sil could practically name where every item in his house came from. It was sweet, really. It made every part of the community feel important.

On the other hand, it meant that there were very little openings in the town. Sil had made a casual mention that you might need to move to another city, and the thought of that sent a nervous flutter through your stomach. Be on your own? In a world you didn’t quite understand? But you couldn’t impose on Sil anymore than you already had. If they wanted you to move out, how could you say no?

“Sugar.” Sil’s gentle, lilting voice pushed into your consciousness. “Everything all right?”

“Fine. Just thinking.” Sil tilted their head, a crease of worry forming between their brows. “I’m really fine, Sil. I can just drift off sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m in incredible amounts of pain.”

Sil pressed their lips together. “You aren’t, are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m fine. Are you this fussy about everyone?”

“Are you kidding?” You glanced over your shoulder. An enormous naga was slithering toward you, her tail undulating as she approached. “I once broke three of my fingers and this one just tied them together and told me I should be fine to keep working if I really wanted to.”

“They weren’t broken. You sprained them!” Sil sputtered. “And I did not say that. I said you should be able to return to work soon. It wasn’t a bad sprain.”

The naga, Evelyn, rolled her eyes in your direction. “I once got a hand full of splinters and they snapped at me every time I flinched. No bedside manner at all.”

“Really?” That seemed hard to believe. Sil had been nothing but sweet to you since you arrived.

“You were whining! And splinters certainly are not the same thing as broken ribs.” Sil’s face had brightened to an impressive shade of red. “And just because I choose not to exercise it on you doesn’t mean I don’t have bedside manners.”

Evelyn rolled her dark, glittering eyes. “Sure, Sil.” She lounged closer to you, drooping the upper half of her body over your shoulder. “Watch their tail,” she said, lips close to your ear. “If the tip starts going mad when you touch them, make a move.” She shot Sil a grin and dropped off your shoulder. “If you want another storage case, stop by any time,” she said, waving a hand back at you as she slithered off. “I’ll be around.”

Sil’s cheeks were still brightly flushed and they spent a moment fussing with their robes before looking aback at you. “She ought to be more careful, throwing herself all over someone who was recently injured.” Their voice was full of indignation, almost as though her presence had genuinely agitated them.

“I told you already, Sil. I’m fine.”

“Oh, all right.” Their hands fluttered tentatively against your side for a moment. “Do you want to stop by the bakery? You didn’t have much for breakfast and you need to keep your strength up.”

“Sure,” you said. Then, just as an experiment, you reached out a hand and placed it on their shoulder. The edge of your hand rested at the hem of their shirt, so there was a flicker of skin-to-skin contact. Their tail shivered, the tip dancing back and forth in the dirt. The flush, which had been slowly fading from their face, returned in full force. “Thank you, Sil.”

They moved their mouth for a moment. “Oh. Uh. You are very welcome.” They squeezed your hand before gently removing it from their shoulder. “Come on.” Their hand lingered against yours for a moment before they released it.

The bakery was run by a pair of fauns. As far as you were aware, they were twins. Evidently, Sil had helped them both on a couple of occasions and now they could get free food almost whenever they wanted. By the time you left the store, your arms were laden with sweets.

The pair of you munched on them casually as you walked around town. There were a few faces that you didn’t recognize, but you knew most of them, and most of them could remember you. The town was so small that new faces were almost immediately recognized. All of them seemed to know Sil, and greeted them with familiarity and reverence.

Still, the longer you spent time in town, the more uncertain you grew about your place there. None of the skills the townspeople had were skills you could really help with, and when you thought through your own abilities, you weren’t sure you had anything to offer. Every person in the town seemed to fit a niche. You weren’t sure what niche you could fill.

“Sugar?” Sil nudged you. “Are you in pain?”

“What?” you said, starting out of your thoughts again. Sil hesitantly extended a hand and cupped your chin in their palm. Their thumb swept along the underside of your eye. Something wet came away with their fingertip.

“Your eyes are watering,” they said. “Is the pain that bad? You should have said something.”

“Oh.” There was pain, a dull ache in your side that radiated along your back. But it wasn’t bad enough to cry over. “No, no, it’s not that.”

You had intended to be reassuring, but Sil’s expression only grew more concerned. They stepped in closer to your side, allowing you to lean on them as you walked. “What’s the matter, then?”

You took a deep breath. Worry jumbled up in your chest and throat, jamming the words from coming. After a moment, you just shook your head. To their credit, Sil didn’t push. They just put an arm over your shoulders and helped you back to their house.

When you were seated back on the couch and Sil had finished putting the materials you’d acquired away, they settled in next to you. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

“It’s…” You fumbled the words once more. There was a lot you were feeling and you weren’t sure how to get it all out in a way that made sense. Sil waited for you, eyes solemn and patient. Finally, the words came out. “Do you want me to leave?” The question that emerged was more pathetic than you’d hoped for. There was a pleading edge to it. Please, I’m scared, don’t make me go!

Sil’s mouth popped open, then snapped shut. They seemed genuinely thrown. “I- No. Where is this coming from?”

You took a deep breath and attempted to sort your thoughts out. “You keep talking about me leaving. Maybe needing to go to the city. And there’s not really any place for me here, nothing necessary. But…” Your voice wavered embarrassingly. Damn. You didn’t want to cry in front of Sil again. They’d seen quite enough of that.

“But?” Sil pressed. Their voice was gentle. One of their hands rested on your knee.

“I don’t want to leave,” you said. “I know it’s selfish, and I really don’t want to impose, but I’d miss you and I’d miss this place. I- I feel like I’m actually starting to make a life here, and I don’t want to leave everything again, but I don’t want to stay here if I’m not wanted-”

Sil hugged you.

Their arms around you were gentle, exerting a reassuring amount of pressure. One of their hands splayed across your back, moving in slow, soothing circles. You hugged them back, pressing your face into their shoulder.

“Shh,” Sil murmured. “Shh. It’s all right.” They pulled back a little, letting their other hand come up to your face. Their thumb stroked along your cheekbone. “You’ve been worrying about this for a while, haven’t you?” Their voice was soft, utterly caring. A swell of tears formed in your eyes again. You blinked rapidly and nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you feel like you weren’t wanted here.”

The hand on your face moved back to stroke through your hair. Sil took in a deep, slow breath. “I think I may have overcorrected, slightly,” they said. “I know I’ve been bringing up you potentially going to the city a lot- I was trying to give you an out, you see, if you didn’t want to stay here. I didn’t want you to feel like you were trapped. I suppose I may have pushed it too hard.”

“Oh,” you said. Relief flooded through you. “Then you do want me to stay? Or, at least, you’re all right with it? I mean, I don’t want to push to stay if you don’t want me here. Is it weird having me in your house? I can start seeing if I can move out-”

“Shh, shh,” Sil said, lifting their voice over yours. “Oh, you really worry too much. No. I don’t want you to leave.” They licked their lips. “There may have been a bit of a selfish reason I’ve not been so keen on you staying. I kept suggesting the city because… Ah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you something. I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, since you’re staying here. I thought, maybe if you had somewhere to go, it wouldn’t be so bad if you, ah. Turned me down.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. Heat rose to your face. “Something you wanted to ask?”

Sil nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit. I don’t want you to think- well, it’s not something I’m jumping into rashly. I’ve considered it. And if you refuse, I certainly won’t hold it against you. I just… I don’t want you to leave, either. Having you around here isn’t a burden. I enjoy it. Ever since I met you. And not just because you’re a human, and a starfaller. You’re… smart and thoughtful and considerate and determined, I-” Sil cut themselves off. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I should come out and say it.” Sil took a deep breath. “I’m attracted to you. Very attracted to you. I have been for a little while. I know that it might not be a good time, and I understand if you don’t want a relationship right now. If you want to leave or stay somewhere else, I understand. But… I want you here. I love every minute you’re here with me. I just thought you should know that.”

Sil fell silent. They fidgeted slightly, barely able to look you in the eyes. You felt slightly stunned. That explained a lot. Their fussiness over your wounds, their insistence that they enjoyed having you around. And, as they had confessed to you, you felt something. A relief, a gratitude. A sort of tremulous oh, thank God. They like me too.

“Sil,” you said in a quiet voice. “I want to kiss you right now.”

Their eyes widened. “I… I think I would like that.”

Your lips met tentatively, then with more passion. Sil pressed their mouth firmly against yours, leaning you back against the couch. Their hands fumbled to cling to your shirt. Behind them, their tail waved furiously, curling and twisting with delight.

One of Sil’s hands pressed against your side and you gave a strangled groan. Sil pulled back immediately. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Let me see.” They fussed at your side for a moment. “Perhaps we should wait a little longer before we try anything rougher, hm?” They gave you a sheepish grin.

“I suppose,” you said. You leaned up and gave Sil a peck on the cheek. One of your hands trailed casually down their front, prompting their pale skin to flush deep red. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

[nerdywriter36]

Sleep So Long Awaited

taken from a post by @behindthemirrorofmusic on tumblr: 'apparently in one of the millions of Love Never Dies drafts, it was Erik who died. The final scene was very different with Erik pushing Raoul out of the shot's way and subsequently getting hit himself. As Erik lays dying in Christine's arms, Raoul assured Erik he will be a better father to Gustave and raise him in his honour and Christine tells him she loved him. Then Erik sings his last words to her: "Christine, don't weep, for I can finally sleep...I have heard you sing...once more..."

@phannah--montana asked me to write this, so blame her for the pain that follows. i cried multiple times writing this, so...my apologies. 

AO3

FFN

~

Erik's heart was pounding. Over the course of his life, he had been in countless terrifying situations that had made his heart race and adrenaline course through his veins, but none compared to the way he felt as he rushed through a crowded amusement park, knowing that his only child was missing. 

The roar of rollercoasters and giddy squeals of children did nothing to calm his anxiousness; every young boy he saw made his heart skip a beat, but none of them were his Gustave. 

Despite all of that, though, what pained him the most was seeing how distressed Christine was. The panic on her face and the tears in her eyes made his heart ache and his nerves fire off more than they already had been. 

"Erik, what if we don't find him?" she asked as she turned to him, taking a shaky breath before she looked away to scan their surroundings again. 

"Don't say that, we are going to find him," he immediately replied. He tried to be gentle but kept his tone firm to reassure her. He refused to let her believe that they'd lose their son for good, and he didn't want to believe it either. 

"But what if we don't? Or if we do, what if it takes hours? He could be anywhere out here in the dark, surrounded by strangers. What if someone has unsavoury intentions? They could just...just take him! Oh, and the water; Erik, he can't swim, what if he falls in?" Christine said, her rapid-fire questions finally ceasing as her tears overflowed. 

With a quiet sigh, Erik pulled her into his arms and held her head to his chest. "Don't think of such things, my darling. We will find him and he will be alright and we will take him somewhere safe," he said, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her. "We must keep searching, though. Go with Madame Giry and search over there, by the concession stands. I will stay here and do another close look before we move on." 

Christine nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it before she hurried off with Giry, leaving Erik to hurry the other way to continue the search for his son. As much as he had been trying to reassure his angel that Gustave would be found, he was beginning to realize that the exact same fears were running through his own mind. His son simply having gone missing was enough to terrify him, but what Christine had said about him being alone in the dark, taken away, or falling into the rough bay surrounding the island made his stomach twist in a way he had never felt before. He didn't even want to consider his one and only child being scared, possibly hurt, and god, if something worse happened, then- 

"Mister Y!" someone called. 

Erik stopped in his tracks at the sound of his pseudonym, knowing that almost no one could pair that name with him. As he tried to consider who it could be without looking, he heard the same voice use his birth name and finally turned around, only to frown right away. 

"R-Raoul?" he stuttered out, too surprised by the man's appearance to use his formal title as he usually did. "What are you...I thought you left?" 

"I did, but I couldn't get to the docks. Christine deserved more than a letter, so I came back to talk to her about everything. Explain my decision," Raoul replied, only to frown slightly when he noticed how frantic the man in front of him was. "Is something wrong?" 

"No, no, n-nothing is wrong," Erik said immediately. "Christine is, um...she-she's not at the hotel." 

"That's fine, I can wait, but something is clearly wrong," the Vicomte said with a sigh. "Not that I'm particularly concerned about you - I'll sleep fine tonight, - but it's inhibiting this discussion, so you may as well just tell me." 

"Gustave is missing." 

Immediately, Raoul's frown deepened. "What?" 

"Gustave is missing, my-my son is missing," Erik repeated, running a shaky hand through his hair as those simple words made the situation all too real for him. 

"Wh- how? When did this happen?" Raoul asked, pushing aside his past with the ex-Phantom to try and get to the bottom of the matter at hand, and while the truth of Gustave's parentage stung, he could see Erik's distress plain and simple; he was a villain no more, but merely a frightened father instead. "I saw him at the theatre before I left, he was meant to stay there." 

"Yes, I know that much, but when Christine and I returned to her dressing room, he wasn't there. At first, I thought you had taken him, but it was confirmed that you left alone. Madame Giry isn't to blame either, so now we're trying to track Meg down." 

Raoul thought to himself for a moment, only for the blood to drain from his face as a realization dawned on him. "She goes swimming every morning, near the bar where we spoke." 

"Suicide Hall, oh my god," Erik breathed, exchanging a panicked glance with the Vicomte before he bolted towards Christine, who stood not far away, with Raoul right behind him. 

"Raoul?" Christine said with a frown, turning to Erik for answers. "What is he-" 

"Meg!" Erik yelled as he ran down the pier, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw his son held in the woman's arms. "Meg, stop, please!" 

"He's going to help, but we think we know where Meg took Gustave, come," Erik immediately replied as he took her hand and started running towards the seaside bar and pier. 

~

He immediately skidded to a stop, though, when he watched her pull a gun from behind her back to point it at him. "Stay there! I'll shoot if you don't! Or...or he'll end up in the water!" she threatened as she shuffled Gustave closer to the edge of the pier despite his efforts to squirm away. 

"No, Meg, please! Leave him out of this!" Erik pleaded, sighing shakily when he heard Christine crying quietly behind him. "Please let him go, Meg, please don't hurt him." 

"Why should I listen to you?! That's all I've done for ten years, only for you to refuse to even look my way!" the young Giry retorted. "And why does his safety matter to you so much? You hardly know him!" 

"Meg, he is only a child, he should not be caught up in something like this," Erik said calmly, his eyes locked on Gustave, who was looking right back at him with distress painted on his face. "Just leave him be and keep this between us." 

Meg shook her head, still holding Gustave tightly. "He is involved because he ties you to her! You couldn't just leave her behind, and then you had a child with her!" 

Erik's heart sunk when he heard her and watched a frown form on his son's face. "What?" the boy quietly asked. 

"And he didn't even know! The secrets never stop with you, do they?" Meg snapped, adjusting her hold on the gun still pointed at them. "The family resemblance is rather strong, though; he would have figured it out soon enough." 

"Meg...Meg, please let him go," Erik said quietly, fighting to keep his voice steady despite the tears starting to well up in his eyes. "He hasn't hurt anyone, leave him out of this fight." 

His fingers twitched as he waited for any sort of response or reaction from Meg, feeling Christine's hand on his back, gripping his suit coat, her anxiety palpable even though he couldn't see her. 

What made the situation all the more heartwrenching, though, was what he heard his son quietly say with tear-filled eyes: "Papa, help." 

"Oh, Meg, please let him go," Adele Giry piped up to say. "Let the boy go to his father, he has no part in this." 

It was another moment before Erik released the breath he'd been holding when Meg pushed Gustave forward and the boy ran right into his arms. "I've got you, Gustave, you're alright," he whispered, holding his son tightly when he felt how he was shaking, then turned around so Christine and Raoul could comfort him as well. 

As Gustave hugged his mother, he turned to look up at Erik. "So...so you're my real father?" he asked quietly. 

Erik sighed and gave him a weak smile. "I am. I'm sorry you only just found out and that it happened this way; the situation is very complicated. Still, I'm glad you had Raoul to take care of you until now." 

"So am I," Gustave replied, smiling back at him. "But I'm glad I have my real Papa now too." 

"As am I, Gustave." Erik reached out to hesitantly smooth down his child's hair and simply stood looking at him for a moment, ecstatic that he was safe, but even that didn't keep him from noticing the sound of a gun's hammer being pulled back from behind them. Whirling around, he had hardly registered the weapon aimed at them before he shoved Raoul out of the way just as a shot rang out. 

Then all he could feel was the searing pain in his abdomen. 

There were screams as he stumbled and collapsed, that much he knew; two women - Christine, undoubtedly, and Meg along with her - as well as his son...oh, his son. The boy he had only just discovered, yet loved with all his heart, and was at the risk of leaving forever before even getting to know him, raise him, love him even more or- 

"God, what did you do that for?" the Vicomte demanded, interrupting his train of thought for the second time that night. 

Erik managed to find the energy to focus again and looked up to see both Raoul and Christine hunched over him, both looking rather worried, though that was more true of the latter, naturally. 

"She was going to shoot you," Erik replied, stifling a groan as the Vicomte held his suit jacket to his wound to apply any pressure he could. 

"So her shooting you was a better alternative?" Raoul retorted. "You...you have a family here." 

Erik sighed quietly as he glanced up at Christine, who had moved to rest his head in her lap, then back to his former rival turned associate. "As do you." 

He noticed the Vicomte seemed to pause at that; he looked up from the gunshot wound to his face and the pressure on his abdomen lessened momentarily. Erik wasn't surprised that Raoul had seemed caught off guard; earlier that very day, they had been at each other's throats, fighting to call Gustave and Christine theirs. That said, neither of them could have foreseen the way the night would go, so quick decisions had to be made, that much Erik recognized. 

"Papa?" he heard a familiar, quiet voice say, which made him turn his head slightly to see Gustave next to his mother, fear all over his face and tears in his eyes, a few having already fallen onto his cheeks. "What's going to happen?" 

Oh, how badly he wished he could say that all would be well, but he could tell that wouldn't be the case; he could already feel his strength waning and his breaths becoming more laboured with each passing moment. 

"I'm sorry, Gustave. I wish you and I had had more time together," Erik said quietly, his heart aching as he watched his son simply shake his head in response. 

"But I don't want you to die, I want you to stay here with us," Gustave said before he leaned over and much to everyone's surprise, hugged his father. 

Erik winced slightly when he did but waved Raoul off when he began to tell Gustave to move. "I'm so sorry, my boy," he whispered, slowly moving his arm so as to avoid any extra pain and wrapping it around his son. "You're going to be alright, I promise." 

"Please stay, Papa. I don't want you to go," the boy replied just before a quiet sob escaped him and he buried his face in the crook of his father's neck. 

"Shh, no tears, Gustave. I'm sorry I cannot stay, but your maman has plenty of stories about me. I will never really go away, I promise you that." 

"And your Papa will never break a promise if it is in his power," Christine quietly added as she gently pulled Gustave up and held him close while she fought back tears of her own.

Raoul sighed as he looked at his wife and her son, then glanced back at Erik, pulling his jacket away and feeling his stomach twist slightly at the amount of blood stating his shirt and soaking through his waistcoat. One look at Erik's face and seeing the expressions of pain that he was trying and failing to hide told him enough; the man was dying and unless help arrived that very moment, there was nothing to be done about that fact. 

"They're going to be alright, Erik," he decided to say as he set his jacket to the wound again, even though he knew the ex-Phantom was well aware that it was pointless. "I am going to take care of them and I am going to do it right this time. Gustave deserves better than what I gave him, and if you can't be the one to do that, then...then I'll do it on your behalf." 

Erik managed a weak smile and nod in response. "Thank you," he said hoarsely. "I...I trust you." 

Raoul returned the nod and took Gustave into his arms when Christine leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Erik's forehead, then his lips. While a slight spark of jealousy flared up in his chest seeing that, he managed to smother it; the man was dying and deserved a moment with the woman he loved, the mother of his one and only child. Even someone with all his faults and flaws deserved that. 

"I love you, Erik," he heard Christine say as he gently smoothed down his hair, no doubt trying to soothe him in his final moments. That was her way, after all; gentility and kindness whenever possible. 

"As I love you, my angel," Erik whispered, lifting a slightly shaky hand to brush his knuckles against her cheek. "Thank you for...for all you've given me." 

When his wife finally allowed a sob to slip from her lips, even Raoul found himself getting teary-eyed seeing her in pain. Still, he gave the pair their space, settling to hold Gustave close and wait for the inevitable end to the situation at hand. 

"Oh, Christine," Erik said softly, a tear falling from his own eye, the Vicomte noticed, before his voice lifted into the weakest song he'd ever heard, which was undoubtedly all the man could manage: "Christine, don't weep, for I can finally sleep... I have heard you sing...once more." 

All was silent and still at that, and Raoul hugged Gustave even tighter as he noticed the rise and fall of Erik's chest had stopped, the hand that had been resting just above his injury slipping to fall onto the deck of the pier. 

"Papa?" Gustave asked quietly, lifting his head and looking over at his father's body as he started to sniffle again. "Papa, w-wake up." 

"Shh, Gustave, he's gone. I'm so sorry," Raoul whispered, cradling the boy's head to his shoulder and shuffling closer to his wife to wrap an arm around her while she hugged Erik's head against her chest. "I'm sorry, Christine." 

His wife simply nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of Erik's head before she turned to him. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"For what?" Raoul queried with a frown. 

"For everything you said. You brought him peace when he needed it and I can never thank you enough." 

With a small smile, the Vicomte leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Of course. He wanted his family to be safe and I wanted to reassure him that that would be a reality. He deserved to know that you two will be okay even when he isn't here to make sure of that himself, and I intend to ensure that happens." 

[judediangelo75]

Hair Raising Situations

Hello everyone!

So this one is gonna be a bit different. 

1) I’m featuring my best friend in this one, because the whole “Judith Harris” development started between us two (She has her own MC of course and a Bill fan, Billiam being on her ship names).

2) It’s not connected to anything I’ve previously written, just a funny little story.

3) It’s not just TalbottxJudith. Shocker I know. Judith isn’t dating anyone but it would go in the order of who she interested in (from most to least). So it could be looked at as multiple ships and you’ll see her attitude to each person she interacts with. 

4) Judith’s hair is straightened here, but when... what happened happens, it would be the same hair cut as Orion’s.

5) We did give Skye a twin brother, his name is Hermes. Get it lol?

Anyways, I hope you like this silly little story. Enjoy!

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

(Brooke Brown) (Age: 16)

I was currently hiding out in the Courtyard in my Animagus form. Why, you may ask?

Because my best friend/sister is out to kill me.

Let's rewind, shall we?

-A little while earlier-

"I can't wait to prank someone with this Fanged Frisbee. Thanks for buying it for me, Brooke," Tonks cheered gleefully as we walked on the Training Grounds. I smiled at the pink haired Hufflepuff.

"Of course. You plan on scaring Filch and Miss Norris with it like last time," I asked. Tonks frowned.

"As much as I love to prank those two, I think I need a change of victims..." The girl trailed off as someone caught her eye. I looked up to find Judith practicing her broom surfing. I glanced back at Tonks and saw the impish smile spread on her face. 

Oh no...

"Tonks, I know that look. Don't even think about," I quickly reprimanded the infamous prankster.

"Oh don't be such a spoil sport, Brooke. Her reaction is going to absolutely priceless," Tonks waved off, preparing to throw the Fanged Frisbee.

"Tonks, no-" I watched in horror as the prank item whirled at my best friend.

"JUDITH, LOOK OUT!" Luckily that caught her attention as she was able to evade the frisbee. But she didn't get a chance to rest as the Fanged Frisbee came whistling back round, giving chase. 

Judith looked semi-scared as she did her best to shake off the frisbee as she flew around on her broom. 

Tonks and I readied our wands to put a stop to the fanged prank item before our friend could get seriously hurt, expect we were have a hard time actually hitting the frisbee.

Tonks and I could only watch as the Fanged Frisbee closed in on her from behind.

"Judith, dive," I shouted. Judith didn't waste a second as she dove down. Judith was able to evade the fanged terror... somewhat.

The sound of fanged teeth cutting through hair felt impossibly loud. I couldn't help but to gape in horror as my best friend's hip-length hair was cut semi-choppily and fell to the ground. Tonks managed to cast Immobulous on the Fanged Frisbee but Judith didn't seem to notice. She stared at the ground where her hair fell while raising a shaking hand to her head.

Uh oh. 

I immediately transformed into my red-tailed hawk and flew off. Not before hearing the scream that damn near shook the entire castle.

"BROOKE, TONKS! YOU'RE SO DEAD!"

---

So now I've resorted to hiding until, hopefully, Judith cooled off. 

I've been watching the doors that lead to the Courtyard just in case she comes here looking to rip my tail feathers off...

I was so caught up in my inner turmoil, I nearly fell out of the tree I was in when a giant Golden Eagle landed right next to me. Talbott and I transformed back into our human forms for a moment.

"What did you do this time," Talbott asked bluntly. I gave my fellow Ravenclaw an innocent look.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything," I said, doing my best to hide my nervous laughter. Talbott raised a sharp brow at me.

"And I'm sure Judith was yelling that she was gonna kill you and Tonks for kicks," he said. I shuddered in fear. Talbott sighed.

"Brooke-" I clapped my hand over his mouth, looking around in fear.

"SHHH! She'll be listening for my name for all I know," I hissed at the eagle Animagus. He stared at me, completely unamused.

"Whatever you did can't be-"

"BROOKE KELLY BROWN! YOU BETTER BE READY FOR AN ASS WHOOPING YOU’LL NEVER FORGET!" I let out a shriek, transforming back in my bird form and hiding behind a startled Talbott. 

Judith stormed out in the Courtyard, a fire dancing in her pale gold eyes.

Oh Talbott if you love me as a friend, please for all that good and holy, do not tell her where I am...

-----

(Talbott Winger)

After meeting the "Cursed Children of Hogwarts", I knew my life will never be normal.

I was just thankful for meeting Judith first. Even though she and Brooke were just as persistent on being my friend, she was the much calmer one. Brooke tended to be more mischievous and can easily talk my ear off if I let her.

When I heard Judith's cry of pure fury earlier, all the way from the Library mind you, I knew Brooke and Tonks must've been up to no good. Judith isn't the type to explode or get mad easily, so whatever they did must've been a prank.

When the normally calm Hufflepuff stormed into the Courtyard with a glare sharp enough to kill a man, I instantly had an idea what they did. And couldn't help but blush at the difference.

Judith has been growing her hair out over the years. Her thick long curly mane would reach her mid-back in its natural state. But when it was straighten, it would reach her shapely hips. 

I secretly thought she looked beautiful with long hair, silently wishing to play with her long locks. But now, said mane was now cut short. It was a bit choppy, but not in a bad way. She looked cute with short hair...

Her gold eyes scanned the Courtyard for her fearful best friend who was now taking refuge in my hood. Her eyes landed on me and her angry expression melted into something akin to shy embarrassment. She walked up to me slowly.

"H-hey Tal-Talbott," she quietly greeted me. I rose a brow. 

The fact that she can switch from rage to shyness nearly gave me whiplash.

"Hello Judith," I replied. The girl crossed her arms staring at her feet. I couldn't help but find her adorable right now. 

She was wearing her semi-casual class outfit. A black sweater over her white button-down collar and yellow and black tie, a black skirt that reached her knees, dark gray long socks, and her shiny ballet flats. With her short hair, it made seem so much sweeter...

I jumped down, feeling Brooke squirm before quickly settling in my hood. I took a few steps forward until I was standing in front of the cute Hufflepuff.

"Have you seen Brooke around," she quietly asked. 

I felt a nervous twitch on my back. 

Deciding to cover for my fellow Ravenclaw, I shook my head. Silence ensued between the two of us, as Judith still has yet to meet my gaze.

"New haircut," I inquired in an attempt to break the silence. The girl flinched.

"Not by choice. It looks bad, I know," she grumbled. As much as I love her with long hair, I love seeing her like this as well. It brought out her face more, and she looks cuter with the fact it wasn't completely even.

"Who said anything about it looking bad. I think you look rather cute with it," I whispered, twirling a strand between my fingers. Judith looked at me surprised, a hint of color appearing on her face.

"I- um... uh..." I felt a small smile grow on my face.

"Thank you," she squeaked, coming out more like a question rather than a statement. 

Too cute. 

I dropped my hand, silently chuckling.

"D-do me a favor and tell Brooke that we have Quidditch practice l-later, please," she stumbled over her words. I gave her a small smile.

"Sure, anything for you, little bird," I said softly. The girl's blush grew worse as she tucked a couple of loose strands behind her ear.

"Th-Thanks, Talbott. I'll see you later," she mumbled before quickly leaving the Courtyard. A few moments later, Brooke came out of hiding and transformed back into her human form. She pulled me into a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I felt her squeeze me tighter with each thank you and quickly patted her back, wheezing that she'll break me in half if she hugged me any tighter. 

The Ravenclaw girl released me, giving me a sheepish smile.

"Oh, how I wish I could have you around all the time, Talbott. You managed to disarm her without even trying," she sighed in relief. I rolled my eyes at that. Not that I was looking to in the first place, but I did manage to calm the angry Hufflepuff down quite a bit.

"I don't feel like being your human shield every time you get her mad, Brooke. Remember, you have Quidditch practice with her soon so eventually, you'll be on your own," I pointed out. Brooke paled at that and whimpered. I would love to see how she wriggles her way out of that one...

———

(Orion Amari)

McNully, the Parkin twins, and I awaited our two teammates so we can start practice. Though I sense there might be some minor conflict that could cause a shift of imbalance during today's practice.

If Judith's yell from earlier was an indication...

Judith and I connect very well. 

She may have the strength that Skype prefers and the tactic that appeals to McNully but I noticed she gravitated more on my lessons on balance above everything else. She didn't bat an eye at my methods, whether it be for us to talk as equals by balancing on our broomsticks or even when I taught her how to Inspired Broom Surfing. 

She seems to enjoy not only the challenge but the peace it seems to bring her.

I don't know much about the Curse Vaults but I know it brings her much stress. Helping her clear her mind is definitely something I would gladly do for her whenever she wants.

"OY! Where the hell is Harris and Brown?! They should've been here by now," Skye grumbled, tapping her foot impatiently. Her twin, Hermes, smirked.

"What's the matter, Sky? Eager to get your pasty ass handed to you so soon? Especially after being the Hospital Wing for so long?" The Hufflepuff snarled at her Ravenclaw brother.

"Put a sock in it, will ya?! Now that I'm recovered, I'm gonna mop the floor with you," Skye hissed. McNully simply shook his head at the Parkin Chasers.

"I give it a 98.9% chance this has to do with Judith's death threat earlier," he told me.

"And what could you think to be the reason," I asked the Quidditch commentator. He shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Beats me."

"S-sorry we-we're late, everyone..." came a slightly timid apology. We all turned to find the Ravenclaw Chaser and Hufflepuff Beater in their respected practice uniforms. Brooke, who voiced this apology, was looking away and Judith silently glared daggers at her best friend. 

I blinked in surprise as I took in my Beater.

Judith's hair has been cut drastically short, very similar to my own in fact. I'd always found the Hufflepuff to be alluring with her long, thick mane. Especially when the wind would blow, toying with her locks as she meditated with me or when we simply practicing flying on our brooms together.

Her short hair didn't dampen her beauty but simply changed it in a different light. Her facial features were brought out more due to the cut. Her big gold eyes, her soft cheeks, her slightly sharp jawline...

"Tch, nice haircut Harris," Hermes snorted. The girl shifted her glare over to him, making him slightly flinched.

"We don't have time for a bloody makeover, Judith, we had a Quidditch title to defend," Skye chided.

"Oh, can it both of you! It's not like I asked for a bad hair day," Judith snapped, sending a side-eye to a timid Brooke.

"May I asked what happened exactly," McNully asked politely. Judith sighed, refusing to say anything. Brooke tried not to twitch under her hard stare.

"Let's just say a Fanged Frisbee gone wrong," Brooke vaguely summarized. I let out a hum of understanding as I studied the Hufflepuff Beater. A few strands landed in front of her face. Before Judith could do anything, I carefully brushed her hair behind her ear, allowing my fingertips to lightly caress her cheek. 

The girl blinked at me in surprise, a blush coloring her face.

"I see nothing wrong with it. I think short hair suits you," I said with a smile. The girl couldn't find any words to say after I complimented her.

"S-so, le-let's get to practicing, ye-yeah," the Hufflepuff Beater offered. I silently chuckled at her attempt to change the subject but appeased her nonetheless.

It didn't escape my attention however when Brooke shot me a grateful look.

———

"Oh boy, definitely need a Wiggenweld Potion," Brooke winced as practice concluded. 

Judith showed no mercy, hitting Bludgers with deadly accuracy. She managed to nail Hermes and Brooke quite a number of times, much to Skye's delight, but I can still sense some level of unbalance coming from her.

"Judith, may I speak with you. Alone," I called out to her. Murphy and Skye shrugged, Brooke looked relieved (more or less running out of the stadium, despite her injuries) and Hermes smirked making kissing noises in our direction. Judith looked very peeved, as well as a bit flustered, at that and looked ready to jump the male but I held her back with a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Come now, it wouldn't be long. I promise," I whispered gently to her. Her face did a funny little spasm as her blush grew worse, but she relented. When the others cleared out, I turned Judith so she could face me. The girl stubbornly looked at my chest. I let out a sigh and tilted her chin up so she could look at me.

"Something troubles you. What's wrong," I softly asked.

"It's stupid. One of the few days I actually could relax, I get chased by a rogue Fanged Frisbee thanks to Tonks and Brooke and now I have a haircut that makes me look more like a boy. I'm already insecure about myself as is, this just put me in a foul mood," the girl admitted. 

My gaze softened at the Hufflepuff witch. 

Tentatively, I cupped her cheek, brushing my thumb under her eye.

"Long or short, your hair doesn't define your beauty, Judith. I'm not speaking to you out of concern a captain has for his teammate, but simply as a wizard expressing himself to a witch. I truly mean when I say you're an alluring girl," I whispered to her. I leaned in pressed a small kiss on her hairline. I heard her let out a shaky breath. Pulling away, her eyes were closed and the blush darkened.

Her gold eyes fluttered open to meet my dark brown ones. She gave me a shy smile.

"Th-Thank you, Orion," she said quietly. I hummed softly and stepped back to give her some space. She asked if she could leave now and I gave her a smile and nodded, saying I'll see her around. She gifted me with one last small smile before walking out of the stadium. I heard the grass being crunched under a set of wheels.

"You seriously could've made the poor girl faint you know," I heard McNully say. I turned to him with a guileless smile.

"You know that I have no shame expressing how I feel. I feel a connection towards the girl, simple as that," I said. The commentator rolled his eyes and chuckled.

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

(Andre Egwu)

I was in the Ravenclaw Common Room studying one of Murphy's playbooks. I really want to be a better Seeker so I can actually play on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. I want to make my grandmother proud... and Judith as well.

The witch never had to reach out to help me, especially since she's on the Hufflepuff team. But she helped introduced me to Murphy so I can learn and strategy wizard himself. I was actually surprised how friendly those two were with each other, which means they've been working closely for quite a while. I remember the kind smile she sent my way when she promised that this is will help me become a better Seeker.

She had such a beautiful smile. Among a lot of features.

Her smooth chocolate skin.

Her delicately sculpted face.

Her athletically fit (and slightly curvy) body.

Her bright gold eyes.

Her long dark hair.

I sighed dreamily.

"Whatcha sighing about, Andre?" A very familiar voice spoke. I jumped to find Judith standing close to the couch I resided on. I blinked in surprise.

Judith blew a strand of her now short hair from her face as she looked at me curiously. Suddenly her battle cry from earlier today makes so much more sense...

Along with Brooke's frantic running in and out (with a bunch of snacks and candy in hand) of the Common Room, yelling if anyone needed her she'll be in the Gryffindor Common Room...

I can understand Judith's anger, but...

It's not as bad as she thinks it is...

"Andre?" I snapped back to reality as the Hufflepuff rose a brow at me. I blushed.

"Sorry, sorry... I was caught up in studying these playbooks," I partially lied through the skin of my teeth. I felt my entire face grow hot. She let out a soft hum.

"Alright," she finally said. I let out a soft sigh of relief. I stood to take a closer look at the girl.

"Cute haircut, whose your stylist," I commented, ruffling her hair playfully. The girl stared at me, surprise overtaking her features.

"I was half expecting you to find this bad," she said, running through her fingers through the choppy cut to fix it. I shook my head.

"You looked good with how your hair was before, but you look very cute with this cut," I said honestly. The Hufflepuff Prefect chuckled and hugged me around the waist. I blushed and wrapped my arms around her. The sweet smell of her shampoo wafted up my nose. Mmm... cocoa butter and coconuts...

I felt a dopey grin spread on my face.

Dear Gods if this is a dream, don't wake me up...

Unfortunately, the girl pulled away.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said. The warmth of her hug and the sweet smell still left me in a slight delirious euphoria. So I didn't hesitate to answer.

"Sure, anything..."

"Do you by any chance know where Brooke is?"

"She went to the Gryffindor Common Room," I said, unknowingly ratting Brooke out to her possibly vengeful best friend. Said best friend gave me a giant smile and another hug.

"Thank you, Andre," she said, and was there a slight purr in her voice? She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving me alone once again.

Sighs... so worth it...

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

(Brooke Brown)

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Once I get my hands on Egwu, I'm gonna clobber him!

...Assuming I survive my best friend's wrath...

I glanced at Bill, who was basically yeeted across the room to keep Judith from entering the room. He ended up hitting an armchair, which toppled backward. I forgot how strong my best friend was...

I silently whimpered at the sight of Judith smirking down at me.

"L-l-let's not do-do anything drastic n-now...! I-I'm sure we can t-talk about this, haha haha haha pleasedon'thurtme," I said as I shrunk into the couch. Judith remained quiet for a moment before chuckling. I shut my eyes.

Oh no...

Goodbye world, it was nice knowing you...

"Relax, will ya? I'm not gonna hurt you..." I cracked open one eye.

"Really," I asked quietly.

"Well not really..." Not helping!

"You can say that the short hair kinda grew on me, so I'm gonna spare you from anything drastic," she said.

"Wha-But-How-" The short Hufflepuff gave me a small smile with a slight blush on her face.

"You can say I received some votes of confidence today," she said softly, brushing a few strands behind her ear. I thought back. Talbott. Orion. Andre.

I smirked and snickered.

Apparently, that was the wrong move as Judith's eyes sharpened into a glare. I 'eeped' as she leaned in close to my face.

"Even so, I'm not spending x amount of years just to regrow my hair. You gonna find a way to help me grow it back or else. Got it," she whispered. I nodded frantically. She gave me a lazy smirk.

"Good. See ya at dinner, bestie," she said, pulling away and walking out of the room. Once she was gone, I went over to check to make sure that Bill was okay while mentally wondering how can I convince Penny to brew me some kind of hair potion...

[mightydragoon]

Darth Vader A+ Parenting.

While Darth Vader in canon ain’t exactly the nicest fellow, this is a Vader or Anakin who has no qualms getting what he wants and using any methods to do so. 

Or otherwise known as Darth Vader A+ Parenting. 

1.  to gain a son Russy

After falling into a trap laid by the Empire and being captured by two Inquisitors, Luke Skywalker wakes up in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar man watching over him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019218/chapters/60586045

2. No Time Like The Present PinkEasterEggs

In a Galaxy where Princess Leia Organa and Luke Vader have always known they were twins, a deadly discovery by their biggest enemy throws their entire lives upside down. Yet again.

Now on the run from the Empire, the Skywalker twins find it their mission to bring peace back to the Galaxy once more. And with Darth Vader on their trail, that mission is far more complicated than they originally believed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754825/chapters/59851300

(Note* Part  3 of the  Back To The Future series. Can be read as standalone) 

  3.  The Heir - SpellCleaver

Darth Vader just killed his master and learned a galaxy-changing truth: the child Palpatine adopted, the Imperial prince and heir, is actually Vader’s son, raised by Palpatine to torment him.

Meanwhile, Luke Palpatine just woke up from severe injuries he sustained in a Rebel attack to a galaxy where his father is dead, he is the Emperor, and the figure from all his childhood nightmares is acting suspiciously nice.

They figure it out from there.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024442/chapters/57801529

4. Eclipse - SpellCleaver

Luke and Leia, the twin children of Darth Vader and heirs to the Emperor himself, defect. When they do, it's naturally a dream come true for the Rebellion and the mother they never knew, one that's been a long time in the making.

But they have to get to that point first.

Or: Darth Vader unwittingly sends his children down the merry path of treason... and the ugly, painful fallout.

(Note* Obviously) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18221840/chapters/43109123

5. Walking the Line Between - aradian_nights

After an emotional confrontation on Bespin, Luke Organa has been captured, and his newfound twin Leia Skywalker will not stop until she has rescued him. Even if that means murdering their own father.

( How the Other Half Lives  -   aradian_nights) 

(Note* the entire series is this but more in particular the recent additions, I’ve already discussed this story multiple times before so you know the drill )

6.  The kidnappings of a Sith Lord - maedre13

How a certain Sith Lord may or may not kidnap his rebel son. One-shots. Strongly inspired by sparklight´s “Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn´t Get Away”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606992/chapters/23453241

(Note* not all these chapters are Vader at his worst but he isn’t exactly a top notch parent in them either) 

7. How to Save the World from its Heroes - stardustgirl

Being the Avatar’s—and Fire Lord’s—non-bending heir isn’t what Luke signed up for. He also didn’t sign up for an Agni Kai he can’t possibly win, or for getting dragged into a search for someone who can kill his own dad. Then again, someone has to bring the world back into balance, and if his dad won’t, then Luke might as well give it his best shot. After all, how much worse can things get?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948487/chapters/60386875

(Note* Only started and already you can see Vader A+ Parenting in all its glory) 

8. your heart is full of stars and your hands full of shattered glass -victoriousscarf

Nineteen years ago, Vader took his children off Mustafar, and Palpatine raised them to be Sith, the perfect weapons he had been looking for.

Except the very eve of his greatest victory, the fully functional Death Star, Luke Skywalker defects to the floundering but growing Rebel Alliance. His sister follows because someone needs to watch out for that fool.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242183/chapters/30290415

9.  Love of a daughter. - youngjusticewriter

"and yet, so far at least we have yet to figure out what you gain from this." It's a question as well as statement. A chance to explain, to come clean on why she - a unknown Sith- had assassinated they're precious, beloved Chancellor (what fools). But how could you come clean when there is so much blood on her hands? Never-mind the sins and blood on Vader and Luke's when her family had been alive.

When she answers it's not because she's announcing her transgressions in hope that her heavy, dirty soul might be saved. One couldn't repent when they didn't feel guilt in their sin.

"For the love of a daughter." Leia pauses and looks back at Anakin and thinks: I did this to avenge you. After thinking that Leia says one more thing - the last thing actually because she nothing else to say after this.

"And you should have been more careful electing your Chancellor. You never know who is Sith." This has double meaning but she's the only person who knows it.

And she's fine with that (no, she isn't).

Leia wonders if her younger self and Luke will ever become the monsters like her Luke had been and the monster she is.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924239/chapters/24297558

10.  Literal Hell - TreeOfTime

Luke Lars is content as a Moisture Farmer with his father and mother... until two people come to find what was lost to them...

Then all hell broke lose

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579066/chapters/53957833

(Note* oh dear lord Vader A+ Parenting in its full glory, a Sith Leia for flavour and a non force sensitive Luke. ) 

11.  Dynasty - Valerie_Vancollie: Co-authored by Rebecca Thomson aka Zekkers.

Hit in the leg by a stormtrooper's blaster bolt, Luke falls in the Death Star hanger bay and is unable to escape on the Falcon along with Han and Leia. During the subsequent interrogation, his true heritage is revealed and Vader instantly takes him to Coruscant, determined to reclaim the son the Jedi stole from him. But the glory of the Imperial capital belies its true nature, where politics and power are everything and anything is fair game in the never ending game to reach the top. Not lying, not betrayal, assassination, sabotage, blackmail, nor seduction. As he commences his Sith training, Luke must also learn the rules and etiquette of the Imperial Court if he is to survive as most of his enemies fight their battles with words and political maneuverings rather than military force. Yet, even as he struggles to gain his place within the Empire, Luke learns that his best friend has joined the Alliance...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111908/chapters/29997507

12. Fractured twists - Annessarose

Timelines are fickle things.

Every line is balanced precariously on the precipice. One shift, one twitch of a finger, one step in the wrong direction, and entire stories change. Lives flicker out, galaxies rise and fall, but the Force is always a constant.

Each moment is carefully balanced. We know how the Siege of Mandalore happened - how the former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano led her men into victory. How she defeated Maul in single combat and earned the loyalty of Lady Bo-Katan Kyrze. How she rode her ship too late to meet with Anakin Skywalker, and how the galaxy fell and burned under the hand of the Sith.

This is the way it could have gone if Obi-Wan had followed Ahsoka to Mandalore.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158608

13. Runaway- Valerie_Vancollie

Co-authored by Rebecca Thomson aka Zekkers & a contest winner.

What if Luke had runaway from Tatooine and joined the Imperial Academy?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976095

14. A Mother's Decision - Valerie_Vancollie

What if Padmé had brought Luke to Vader when Luke was only nine months old?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915687

15. Descent into Darkness - Valerie_Vancollie

What if instead of waiting for Luke to come to him on Endor, Vader had gone for Luke and the others, capturing them while with the Ewoks?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908223

16. Avenge and Conquer - arikylo

The Alliance has fallen into a very well laid trap and now Luke has no choice but to hand himself over to Vader. But what does the father have in store for the son? Can Luke handle the torture and the ruthless tactics of the Empire or will he be forced to surrender and embrace the dark side?

The struggle between the light and the dark is strenuous, relationships crumble and all is looking bleak for the Alliance.

Dark!AU set after ESB.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3058115/chapters/6639581

17. The Terrorist - Seasider

High above Bespin in Cloud City, Vader chooses not reveal his identity and instead uses deceit to trick Luke into surrendering. The Dark Lord has a lot on his agenda, so he entrusts the breaking of his son to an Imperial interrogator, unaware that the man has an agenda of his own: revenge.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810643/chapters/60006952

(Note* Dead Dove do not eat. Contains some reall fucked up shit) 

18. Consequences - treenahasthaal

An intense burst of light and a vicious blow to his left shoulder sent him spinning violently backward and he fell...

What if Luke hadn't made it off the Death Star immediately following Kenobi's death?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/809144/chapters/1527145

(Note* It’s also a boba fett/ luke) 

19. Instinct - treenahasthaal

There was something about the blond boy in the crowd of detainees that caught Commander Yarryn's attention. Something that pulled at his gut and told him there was more about this captive than met the eye. It was his duty to find out what it was the boy was hiding - and find it he would, for Yarryn was very good at his job.

12 weeks after the destruction of the Death Star.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185854/chapters/4785594

( Part 1 of the Invictus series) 

20. Child of Mine - Oneshotshipper

AU. Darth Vader discovers Leia at a young age. Barely managing to escape her father's clutches the first time, young Leia goes into hiding and becomes the Empire's most-wanted fugitive. If the second time comes, fate will not be as kind. Meanwhile, Darth Vader would tear apart the galaxy itself to possess and keep his child. The Dark Side seems to inevitably be the fate of the Skywalkers.

21. To Catch a Daughter, One must... - ftbprotocol

A variety of AU one-shots where in canon Leia stayed a secret, but in these stories did not. Because there needs to be more Leia and Vader fic!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173637/chapters/27632673

22.  Daughter Over The Son - Keetajet

Work is inspired by ftbprotocol's work "To Catch a Daughter, One must..."

The moment where Darth Vader did not save his son. Instead, he will have his daughter.

Leia's future went downhill the moment she felt her brother die on the second Death Star, leading to their capture on Endor. Only she, Han, and Chewie survived the failed ground assault and they were restrained and being held at gun point.

She has a bad feeling about this.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25354183/chapters/61476130

23. Before the Emperor - SilverDaye

Luke is defeated and captured at Cloud City by Vader. He is then dragged before the Emperor. However Palpatine is dead. Luke's father is alive. And someone else holds the reigns to Vader and the Empire.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950198/chapters/37196351

Tags- to help search for more

Darth Vader's A+ parenting

Dark Anakin Skywalker

Sith Luke Skywalker

Imperial Luke Skywalker

Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader

Leia Organa & Darth Vader

Bad Parent Darth Vader

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Now Complete

Over the last three months, I have dedicated a huge chunk of my limited free time to writing this piece. What started out as a possible kinktober one-shot was side-tabled as I realized it had potential to be an actual story. Now, twenty chapters and 103,723 words later I am thrilled to say that this installment is complete.

I’ve already begun a second installment of this series which will pick up at the start of John’s retirement. I’m hoping to have the first chapter out within the week.

Thank you so much to everybody who liked, commented, and supported me during this story and a huge thank you to @meetmeinthematinee​ for helping me edit and review this beast.

AO3 Talk Link

Chapter 20 Link

 A new start.

 That was what she had deemed it. For both of them.

 John went around the city. Closing accounts. Transferring mountains of coins into actual money. Saying silent goodbyes to the places that had defined him for a lifetime. And stashing markers, money, and weapons. Just in case.

 He hopes he will never have to use them.

 And, while he does that, Helen packs up her house.

 The decision to move in together came approximately two days after returning from Vermont. They’d wasted enough time, they both decided.      “And,    ” Helen had teased,      “God forbid we decide to spend a night apart, I already know you’ll sneak in to watch me sleep.    ”

 Minx.

     “I’m more than happy to sell my place.”    He had told her.

     “You’ve given up your entire life for me.    ” She had argued, gently running her hand through his hair.      “I’ll give up the house. Besides, if you think I’m giving up your hot tub, you’re fucking dreaming.”  

 And that had been that.

 They’d driven to her house, stopping to pick up boxes and tape and bubble wrap, and started packing up.

         She made some calls around the city, looking for charities to donate some of her furniture to. John’s bed, she had discovered, was far more comfortable than hers. And they didn’t need multiple dining room tables or sets of cookware or dishes.

 John borrowed a truck from Aurelio and, with his and Marcus’ help, started dropping things off across the city.

 In the remaining days of her “recovery”/vacation, they manage to empty most of her little house. And while      their     house (he will never get used to the sheer joy that fills him at that descriptor) is now a mess of boxes and suitcases, it has never felt more like home.

 He laughs at the three boxes of shoes Helen has to unpack, only to have to dodge a high heel used as a projectile.

 He revels in the way she unpacks her sweaters and dresses to hang across from his clothes.

 He also takes a great deal of pleasure when he finds the small box, once hidden away in the back of her closet, containing a number of delightful little toys. He gets another shoe thrown at him as he practically begs for details.

 Helen laughs and offers a private demonstration… once her books are shelved in the library. John scrambles to fulfill her every wish.

 One of the benefits of Helen having her own practice was that she could really do whatever the hell she wanted. She had reached out to all her clients first thing on Monday to apologize for her absence, reporting that she had been the victim in a hit-and-run, leaving her in a coma for the better part of the week. While she was doing much better, she told them, she still needed another week for recovery.

 Of course, the Underworld had bought out half the cops in the city. A quick call from John Wick and shit was being filed      exactly     how he demanded it to be. Doctor’s notes were forged, along with hospital ‘records.’ That part was easy.

 What had been much more complicated, John discovered, was dealing with the missing person’s out on Helen and it throws his world off kilter, yet again.

 Her family had been terrified. While Helen wasn’t exactly in constant contact with them, the police had reached out after a concerned associate of Helen’s reported her missing. Unable to contact her, her parents and sister had been in a frenzy.

 Using the phone that John had paid for, insisting that he buy her a new one since it was his enemy who had destroyed hers, she reluctantly calls her mother.

     “Mom, I am begging you, stay home. I’m fine.”  

     “We’ve been so worried!” John hears her mother sobbing on the other side of the line, “A hit-and-run, oh, sweetheart!”  

 And if      that’s    her mother’s reaction from a hit-and-run, John doesn’t want to know what her mother would do if she ever found out the truth.

 Kidnapped, held hostage, marked for death…

 The poor woman might have a heart attack.

     “You’re still recovering! You need someone to take care of you!”  

     “I have someone taking care of me.”    Helen had said, and at that moment, John had indeed been massaging her shoulders. His lips had twitched in response.

 He was the one taking care of her.

 He would be the one taking care of her forever.

 It made him giddy to think about.

     “Who?”  

They hadn’t discussed labels. It all seemed sort of unnecessary after all they had been through. But when Helen makes the executive decision and says, “my boyfriend” John wonders if he’s the one having a heart attack with the way his own is beating so hard it feels like it might burst at any moment.

 Boyfriend.

 He’d never been a boyfriend before. He’d never had any interest in being a boyfriend before. A term he’d never imagined being applied to him but now that it was…

 He was a boyfriend.

 He was      Helen’s    boyfriend.

 He’s filled with pride and affection and so much love he doesn’t know what to do. She leans into him, reaching up to where his hands have stopped massaging as he attempts to process her words. And because she’s Helen and she knows him better than he knows himself, she squeezes his hand.

 Grounding him.

 But, of course, her confession to her mother opens another avenue of questions.      What boyfriend? How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?  

 To which Helen answers respectively       his name is John. We met seven months ago. And because who I date and when I decide to share that information is my choice    .

 It’s another half an hour of questioning before Helen manages to talk her way off of the phone after wrangling a promise that her mother would      not     fly to New York. In return, Helen was to send her daily text updates on her health.

 Her sister was another matter. Living only an hour away in Trenton, her sister insisted on driving up. It ended up working well, however. While he had testified without a single problem, John hadn’t had the time to meet with Tarasov.

 So Wednesday, Helen agreed to meet her sister for lunch while John had gone to meet with a mob boss.

 John arrives at Tarasov’s compound and, once again, finds himself subject to stares.

 They had always been there. The Baba Yaga was the focal of fascination for a great many, but most had always tried to hide the attention they paid to the man, the monster. But since Helen’s existence had been made known, he’s found himself front and center everywhere he goes.

 And it had only become worse after being questioned by the High Table on the DeLuca’s and their involvement. While John had repeatedly stated he would not answer questions regarding his relationship with Helen, it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

 During the trial and afterwards, members of the High Table had tried to push. John had given them nothing.

 John is silent as he walks up to Viggo’s office.

 The last tie to sever.

 While Abram was scared enough of John Wick to let him go without a fight, John was certain that Viggo’s ambition would rise to the occasion.

 After all, hadn’t John Wick done the impossible? He had brought down Syndicate and saved the girl with every odd stacked against him.

 And now Viggo wanted a piece of that.

 The impossible.

 And John will do it. Of course, he will do anything if it means being released.

 Retirement is so close he can taste it as he steps into the familiar office, closing the door behind him.

 Viggo Tarasov sits at his desk, setting his paper aside as John takes a seat in front of him.

 “John.” Viggo greets, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

 John inclines his head. Viggo was full of shit.

 Lorenzo had shared with his children that he had released John Wick of his contract following the trial. The rest of the Underworld knew by sundown. John was certain that Viggo was well aware of John’s intentions in this meeting.

 “I’m retiring.” John says, truly not in the mood for games.

 Viggo nods in response to the news, clearly expecting John’s announcement. “Very few people retire from our world.”

 “Because most are dead long before they reach my age.”

 “I’m older than you.”

 “You have a desk job.” John points out, aware that his status is the only reason he can get away with saying such things to Viggo Tarasov.

 Viggo waves a hand vaguely, “You’ve never had interest in a desk job.”

 “Nor do I now. However, I still intend to live a while longer. In peace.”

 “Peace.” Viggo says, testing the word on his tongue, “That must be a foreign concept to a man like you.”

 A year ago, John would have agreed with him.

 Hell, eight months ago, John would have agreed with him.

 And while his experiences were still limited, he already had a glimpse of peace. In the weekly visits he had paid to Helen’s office. In the quiet of the night as he meditated to each and every intake and exhale of breath.

 Now, John knew peace in the moments before his alarm went off and he held Helen close to him. He knew peace in the way she wrapped herself around him as he made her coffee. He knew peace in the way her head rested on his shoulder or in the soft flips of pages as Helen read by his side. He knew peace in the moments where she held him.

 “I’m aware you hold my contract,” John says, ignoring Viggo’s comment. “I am more than willing to buy it out.”

 A longshot, John knew.

 Viggo tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it. Yet John knows, from that single action, that Viggo already has something in mind. Something he wants done that only John Wick can manage. John just fucking wishes he’d get to the point instead of treating this like a game.

 “At this time, your contract is not for sale.” Viggo says, “However, there is a task I have in mind. A bit… difficult, to say the least. But, should you complete this for me, I would be more than willing to release you from your contract.”

 There it is.

 “What do you have in mind?”

 “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

 …

 When John arrives home and he’s relieved to find Helen’s car parked out front. He makes a mental note to install a garage opener in her car as soon as possible.

 John quickly goes inside, not wasting any time. The desire to set eyes on her is overwhelming and he wonders how he managed to      only     see her at night for months on end.

 He’s not certain he can ever again go longer than hours without seeing her, touching her.

 Helen has become an addiction.

 When he doesn’t find her in the living room or the kitchen, he goes upstairs. Sure enough, she is in the library, kneeling in front of a bookcase as her fingers trace over the spines.

 “How was lunch?” He asks and Helen’s lips twitch.

 With anyone else, he might have scared them. Even in his own home, he tends to walk lightly so as not to be noticed. But she’s always had that sixth sense about him. It brings him an absurd amount of happiness to know that she understands and sees him.

 “It was fine.” She reaches a hand up. John takes it and helps tug her back to her feet. “Got a bit of the third degree but I suppose I can’t blame her for being curious, all things considered.”

 On tiptoes, she gives him a quick kiss. “How was Tarasov?”

 “As expected,” John says.

 Helen hums as she looks him over, “Indirect answer.”

 “It could be worse.” John tries again.

 “Now you’re being evasive.”

 She had warned him life would be like this. She’s spent the better part of her life learning to read people and despite being an enigma to most of the world, John Wick is an open book to Helen.

 He can’t bring himself to be upset when they both knew this was exactly how it was going to be.

 “He wants me to complete a rather difficult task.”

 “How dangerous is this going to be?” She asks, folding her arms over her stomach.

 She did that when she was worried, John had noticed. He hates that it’s him causing her such stress but comforts himself with the fact that this will be the last time.

 “Fairly.” Helen’s face is that unique mix of impassive and empathetic that he was used to seeing in her office. He steps forward, catching her chin in his hand and drawing up her face. “I’ll be fine.” He promises.

 She gives him a small smile and nods. She’s scared, he knows. And he is too. He’s never had so much to lose.

 “What does he want?”

 He wants to shake his head and tell her not to worry about it. But he knows exactly how that conversation will go if he tries.

 “There are a few rival Russian gangs that Viggo wants control of.”

 “A few?” Her brows shoot up.

 Maybe he should have phrased that better.

 While he’s unsurprised by Viggo’s demands given the opportunity to manipulate the Baba Yaga, Helen worries. She used to joke that it was her job to worry—that he paid her good money for such. And he would smile and promise to see her next week.

 But things had changed so much since DeLuca.

 She understood a little bit more just what John was capable of. In the moments when she had been in DeLuca’s grasp,      John     had learned a bit more of what he was capable of.

 But in understanding that, she grew more worried. When it came to her, they both knew that he was capable of      anything    .

 And that made him reckless, to a degree.

     “It goes both ways, John.”     She told him when he had first explained what it would take to actually retire, what he might need to do to be released by the Tarasov’s.      “You worry about me constantly, but I worry about you too. Do you really think I would be okay if something happened to you?”  

     “You could move on.”    He had replied,      “I know you would hurt, but you could go on living your life.”  

     “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re an idiot, John. I would be    devastated       if something happened to you, if I lost you.”  

     “It’s different.”  

     “Like hell it is. Do you know how many nights I used to lie awake until you would get to my house because I was so paranoid, so scared that something would happen to you?”    Helen had shaken her head,      “Or that I used to spend my Friday’s in an anxious blur, terrified that one day you just weren’t going to show up. That you’d just… be gone.”  

     “It’s different.    ” John had maintained, “      Hels, you’re—you’re all I have.”  

 And that was just a fact. Without him, Helen would have her family, her friends, her work.

 But without her… what would he be?

 “It will be fine.” He promises, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It assures him that she is real and safe when his thoughts start to overwhelm him, “This is more of a point-and-shoot kind of gig. Just with a lot of moving targets.”

 An impossible number of moving targets. He forgoes saying as much, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind on how he’s going to pull this off.

 “Is there a timeline?”

 Technically, no. Viggo hadn’t given him any sort of indication of when he wanted it completed, but John was strongly in favor of doing it as quickly as possible. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner he was free.

  And, oh, what a thought that was.

 “Friday.” He answers aloud. Two days away. It would give him the time to prepare, because once he started, he could not stop until he was done.

 She nods, leaning her head against his hand.

 He hates that he is responsible for making her worry. John pulls her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms securely.

 “Come on,” he kisses the top of her head, “Let’s go pack some more of your books to bring over.”

 She brightens visibly at that and they make another trip to her house.

 While Helen desperately needs the distraction, John realizes it’s just as beneficial for him. It reassures him, just as her touch does, that she’s real. That this is actually happening and not just some coma dream, which he felt might be more realistic.

 They spend Thursday much the same way. While he’s tried to tempt Helen to take another week of vacation, she only shakes her head and says,      “It wouldn’t be fair to my clients    .”

 Marcus comes over to help.

 “Helen, if he’s blackmailing you into moving in with him, I can get you help. Blink once.”

 The older assassin dodges multiple projectiles from multiple directions, laughing all the while.

 “I’m serious! You can do better!”

 It’s a joke, and John      knows     that, but he still appreciates the extra affection she shows him. Like she knows that John still lays awake at night, wondering if he was good enough for her. But she slips under his arm, resting against his chest while she shoots back, “Forgive me for not taking advice from a man who’s still in a committed relationship with his daddy issues.”

 He makes a sound of pain even as he grins, “Low blow, Kingston.”

 “Come at my man, I’ll come for your life.”

     My man     echoes around in John’s head for hours after that and Marcus’ teasing was soon forgotten.

 After that declaration, his hands, which were impossibly steady when aiming a gun or striking a blow, were shaky. He had to talk himself through wrapping up her décor so as not to break it.

 They loaded up the borrowed truck, driven by Marcus, as well as stuffing her SUV full.

 “Hope you don’t change your mind about him, because I am      not     doing this again.” Marcus complains after he and John manage to get her loveseat into the back of the pickup.

 “I’m not concerned.” She says and the conviction in her words and her tone leaves John all the more in love with her.

     Good    , he thinks. He is no longer strong enough to let her go.

 John watches with fascination and awe as he hears a dog bark and watches as her eyes light up. An older man approaches with a golden retriever pulling on its leash trying to reach Helen. He recognizes the dog from the neighborhood, having seen it be taken outside late at night from a few houses over.

 The dog breaks free of the owner, tearing the leash from his hand, bolting towards Helen.

 Grinning, Helen drops down low and braces for the contact. “Hey, Buddy.” She says, scratching the pup behind the ears as the dog pants excitedly.

 “Sorry, Helen!”

 “No worries,” She calls back to the owner, “You know I’m always down for a Buddy-snuggle.”

 Marcus snorts and mutters to John, “How easily you can be replaced.”

 John rolls his eyes, smiling all the while as she coos to the dog lovingly. He thinks back to the first time she met, showing him pictures of her favorite dogs. He had been almost surprised that she didn’t have one of her own.

 With a final pet to the stop of Buddy’s head, she sends him back over to the owner with a wave, before climbing back to her feet.

 A part of him was reluctant to share her but he could imagine, maybe somewhere down the line, getting a dog with Helen. He thinks she would like that, the potential images flipping through his head and filling him with an unexpected warmth.

 “Should have guessed you were a dog person,” Marcus says.

 “Always have been.” She replies, slipping back under John’s arms. Even with moving furniture and boxes, it’s still cold outside. He tucks his chin to her head and wraps his arms around her.

 “Makes sense given your choice in partner.”

 She throws Marcus a look, but he holds up his hands defensively.

 “Not like that! No need to bring my daddy issues into this. Just meant he’s got some of those qualities. Unwavering loyalty, literally the definition of a dog with a bone when it comes to you. Protective, but a little bit stupid.”

 “Thanks, Marcus.” John says, rolling his eyes yet again.

 “I prefer dogs to people, anyway.” Helen says, patting his arm. “Far less complicated. They don’t make muddles out of things the way we do. And they’re far less self-interested.”

 “All this, coming from the only one of us who works with humans for a living.”

 She grins at that, “It’s why I can say, without a doubt, that dogs are better than people.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hyper-empathic to the human experience?”

 “I can be. And there is a lot about said human experience that I admire,” Helen says, “We’re an incredibly resilient species. The mind can handle just about anything, which is remarkable when you think about it. And we’ve worked to build societies based on mutual respect and social currency. There’s drama and endless uphill battles, struggles and triumphs, and a capacity for healing unseen in any other creatures,” She shrugs, “But there’s something to be said for just      living    . Simply, at that.”

 He feels his arms tightening around her as he presses a kiss to her head.

 He loves her more than he’ll ever be able to express. Helen leans to the side so her face is just below his and kisses him once more.

 “I’m going to finish with my room.” She tells him and slips out of his arms. He watches as she walks back into the house.

 She’s giving it up for him. Her home, her space.

 It’s still so surreal.

 “She’s incredible.” Marcus says softly.

 “I don’t deserve her.”

 “No, you don’t.” His friend smiles, “Luckily, she loves you anyway.”

 It was strange to think that they had only declared their love for each other a week ago. A single week of verbally and physically expressing their love for one another.

 It simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

 John heads back into the house, following her path to her bedroom. Her clothes and jewelry had already been packed but her furniture, along with a handful of other things, was left behind. She had washed her sheets earlier and was packing them in a box marked      donations    .

 He takes one end of the sheet and helps her start to fold the next.

 The question pours from him before he can even think about it.

 “Would you like a dog?” John asks, “You know, someday?”

 She steps forward, collecting the sheet, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Would      you    want a dog?”

 John shrugs, truly uncaring. “I like dogs.”

 “But there’s a difference between liking dogs and wanting a dog. Would you actually want to have a pet? In your perfectly kept, immaculate house?”

 He feels like he shouldn’t say      I want whatever you want     because he doesn’t want to burden her with all the decisions, but truthfully, the only thing in life he wants is to make her happy. The little details don’t matter to him so much as giving her the opportunity to smile.

 “I wouldn’t mind either way,” he says as she folds it one last time and places it in the box with the others, “And the house is immaculate because I barely spend time there.”

 She considers it for a moment, and he feels his heart flutter with the twitch of her lips. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe we adopt an older dog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the rejects.”

 “Makes sense.” John teases and she rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, John Wick, if you make another orphan joke…”

 He grins, stepping into her space. He catches her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss.

 Her soft lips yield to him and he will never understand what he has done to deserve such grace. But he swears to himself that he will never take for granted her presence or her touch or her love.

 This is happiness. It’s also only the beginning.

 …

 Friday comes, as it must.

 John had wondered if he would feel nervous or anxious for his final mission, his last task. Instead, he wakes up feeling eerily calm.

 He’s never been so grateful for something to end. But then, he’s never had a beginning to look forward to.

 Helen, he finds, is far more nervous than he is.

 “Should you be resting?” She asks as he takes down some of his own books so he can move the shelves around. He wouldn’t be leaving until sunset, much preferring to use the cover of darkness to hide his presence.

 “I’ll be fine.” He assures her. He’s gone on countless missions without sleeping or after only getting a few hours here and there to keep him going. Truthfully, having slept a full eight hours the night before is more than he usually gets.

 But he knows it’s not enough to stop her from worrying so John distracts her. First with planning out their new library. When that didn’t hold her attention enough, he switched to distracting her with his body.

 A sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

 He fucked her in the library before carrying her to the bedroom to take her again. And Helen was insatiable, much to his delight. But fucking her to the point of exhaustion took far more out of him than he anticipated.

 By the time she’s finally too tired to carry on, John finds himself closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

 Her fingers trace the back of his neck as she whispers, “Gotcha.”

 She really is brilliant, he thinks, as John finds himself manipulated into napping.

 He wakes up feeling far more rested and newly motivated to go out and come back home. To never be forced to leave her side again, so long as they both lived.

 It’s all so close.

 Helen runs her hand over his hair.

 “Thank you for making me sleep.” He teases softly.

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Liar.”

 Helen grins at that, leaning forward to kiss him.

     This    , he thinks, this is what waits for him on the other side of the night.

 It motivates him anew.

 John showers and dresses. His traditional three-piece, he hopes to never wear again. For her sake, he leaves the tie on the bureau.

 John slips a small gun into his ankle holster, a knife into his sock. He chooses his weapons carefully as he prepares for the night ahead of him.

 One last time.

 Leaving is so very different than it had always been. Rather than heading straight from his room to his car, he detours to find his partner. To see her, to kiss her before he goes.

 He can hear conversation flowing from the kitchen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and blinks in surprise.

 Marcus.

 He slips into the kitchen and watches as Helen rummages around in the fridge before pulling out and handing Marcus a beer.

 Marcus, he thinks, is probably the person he would miss the most. One of his oldest friends. One of the first people he ever learned to trust.

 Someone he would soon have to say goodbye to, along with everyone else.

 A large brown paper bag sits in front of him on the kitchen counter.

 “Marcus.” John greets as he steps into the kitchen.

 “John.” Marcus uses the edge of the counter to pry the bottle cap off. “Everything in place?”

 John nods. He had weapons stored around the city and Santino would be assisting. John had been reluctant to make a deal with the mafioso when he was so close to retirement but there were too many moving parts for what Tarasov had asked for John to accomplish it alone.

 Santino swore, so long as John stayed out of the Underworld, he would not use the marker John had promised him. But, should he ever step foot back, he was fair game.

 He almost felt bad for Santino. He would never go back to that life. Not while he had Helen.

 “Didn’t know you were coming over.” John comments, watching as Helen opens a bottle of wine for herself.

 “Somebody’s got to keep your girl from losing her mind.”

 “It’s an important job.” Helen jokes, smiling up at John. “I was afraid I was going to go stir-crazy waiting here at home.”

 He can understand that. He had nearly gone insane in hours after she had been kidnapped.

 John holds open an arm for her, and she wraps around him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “What are you two going to do?” He asks.

 “Marcus brought Thai food,” she gestures to the paper bag, “And we’re going to get drunk then watch and score kung-fu movies bloodlust, technique, and general sexiness.”

 John smiles down at Helen, wondering how he ever managed to make it day to day without her. “Sounds like fun.”

 “We’re starting with Enter the Dragon. Which I’m going to go get set up.” Helen stands on tiptoes and gives John a quick kiss, before grabbing her wine glass and heading to the living room.

 “Last mission.” Marcus says.

 John nods again, “It is.”

 “How do you feel?”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Helen.” John jokes, thinking of all the times his girlfriend had asked him that very same question, “But I feel ready.”

 “Nervous?”

 “Not even a little.”

 “Good.” Marcus glances to where she had exited, “I worried in the beginning. That you weren’t thinking clearly; that she didn’t have what it takes to be involved with an assassin. I’m glad I was wrong on both counts.”

 John looks down because he really doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He’d said his goodbyes to Sofia, to Winston, to Charon. To the few members of the Underworld that mattered to him. But this is one he just doesn’t know how to say.

 Marcus has had his back for two decades. He’d been his friend and confidant. The only person on the planet John had felt he could trust Helen to when his life fell apart. The man who, even now, was devoting his time to helping Helen.

 “We know the rules,” Marcus says quietly, “That after tonight… we go our separate ways…”

 “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” John says just as softly.

 He’s told Helen, explained it to her.

 She had been angry, at first. That John was being forced to give up his friends along with everything else. That the Underworld was so unwavering and rigid with their rules and expectations. Then, she had been sad. Then guilty.

 She promised she would love him whether he left the Underworld or not and he believed her. But the life he wanted… it was for both of them. And it didn’t involve looking over their shoulders every moment of every day. He wanted to take her to dinner and not worry that the man two tables over was packing. To go to the farmer’s market without wondering if someone was going to attack.

 He told her again and again that this was      his    decision. That he was the one deciding to part ways in order to have the life that      he     wanted.

 And he has no regrets.

 There was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for that life.

 “Me too. But… you’re making the right choice, John.” Marcus assures him. “And I know that we won’t be able to go get a beer or hang out but write to me now and then. Send me the announcement if you ever convince that beautiful woman to marry you.”

 John nods, “I will.”

 “Good.”

 And maybe it’s because it’s goodbye, or maybe Helen has made him completely soft, but John walks across the room and hugs his friend.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 Marcus nods, “Just… live well. Take care of each other.”

 “We will.”

 They part and John leaves Marcus to sort through the takeout he had brought with him. John follows Helen into the living room. She is using the remote to type in a password, standing barefoot in the middle of the sunken section.

 John takes the two steps down. Helen glances up as he does. He watches her swallow.

 “Time to go?” She asks softly and he nods.

 She tosses the remote to the side and throws her arms around him. Her grip is impossibly tight, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never felt more loved than when her arms are around him.

 “You’ll be careful out there?” her voice breaks a bit as she asks the same question, she asked every single week before he left the safety of her office. Right before John went out to venture into the Underworld.

 “I promise.” He kisses the top of her head.

 She breathes a soft sigh of relief. Helen leans back, looking up at him even if she doesn’t release her arms. “Because if you’re not back by morning, I’m coming after you.”

 “I’ll be back.”

 Partially because there was no way in Hell he was ever letting her become involved with the Underworld again but mostly because she was his home. The only one he had ever known.

 John catches her jaw in his hand and angles her face upward and teases, “It will be over soon. This time next week, you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll be wishing you could send me back.”

 “Never.” She says even as she smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” He kisses her lips, giving himself a moment to be completely consumed by her. To memorize, once more, her smell and touch and taste. He’ll take her with him everywhere he goes and hold on to the memory to guide him back home.

 With a final, soft kiss on lips he releases her. To leave her side one last time. He walks back up the steps to the leveled floor. He reaches out for the handle to the garage door.

 “John?” She says and he glances back, “Come home to me.”

 His lips twitch as he opens the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 With the morning comes their promise of forever.