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summerstardust · 4 years

Note

do you think you could please do something where you're having your first time with orlo and, despite rumors orlo isn't a virgin

Toxic Rumors

Count Orlo x Reader

AN:This is my first smut fic, so please be gentle! Also, I tried to make this gender neutral. I hope you enjoy it!💜💜💜

Summary: After growing closer to the bookish Count, the reader and Orlo confess their feelings to each other.

Warnings: Familial death, smut, talk of losing virginities and rumors based around sexual histories

Word Count: 2891

It was difficult being a single in the court of Peter. Correction; it is difficult not vocally sleeping with someone in the court of Peter. You were the only child of a well to do family that supplied a good majority of the kingdom with vodka. As the only heir to the “necessary” business, you were deeply involved within the inner workings of the job and practice since you were young. Your parents had detailed plans of when you would take over the business after you were married, but unfortunately plans don’t always follow suit as well as people may want. One flu season, your father contracted smallpox and died soon after. With your mother paralised with grief, you took on the majority of the responsibilities of the company. The next flu season, your mother died in the same fashion. Many people well versed in gossip spread rumors that your mother had purposely walked around the already sick so as to contract smallpox and join your father, and that you were too preoccupied with the business to even care.

You would move back and forth between your business and your home attached to it, and your apartments within the halls of the Emperor. It took a toll on you and your health and seeing as you were the only trusted person to run the business, you eventually had to move into the palace permanently. Your stay in the palace wasn’t meant to be permanent, but it became that way. You continued to stay within the walls of the palace and use the palace as your homebase and used the Emperor’s investments to continue your family's business.

With you so invested in trying to keep your family’s business prevalent and in control of all of the orders and shipments while also dealing with your personal losses, you had little to no time to invest into your love life. You wanted a companion, you wanted someone to share your life with, you did not want an union formed in necessity like everyone else’s marriages. Your parents were happy, despite stresses, and that’s what you desired.

You only connected to one person within the court of Peter; Count Orlo. He, like you, seemed to value independence, personal goals, and standing up for the morals instilled through family. He often helped you keep up to date with your business’s finances and helped you assess which business offers would result in the most operable deals. Despite this logical connection, you saw the two of you growing closer and you hoped that you weren't imagining anything.

Also like you, Orlo suffered from the harmful words of his peers. Where the ladies of the court would call you such names as “whore” or “slut” they would call sweet Orlo an idiot virgin. You didn’t listen to whatever they had to say, however, because the cruel words of strangers didn’t mean anything to you. You trusted what Orlo said to you, how he interacted with you, and the sweet gestures he would perform just to make you feel better.

One night after a long day of business filings and gratuitous feasts and parties, you traveled to the library to find a book to read. You had plenty of books in your apartments, most gifted to you by Orlo, but you had read those books many times over and wished for something new. You sat there for a long time, you didn’t know how long, but you had reached the halfway point of the book you had chosen. Orlo frantically ran into the library, angry and flustered.

Before you could even look up from your book, Orlo was apologising without taking any breaths and was moving to leave the library. You called out to him quickly, explaining that he was perfectly welcome within the library, especially because he called it home long before you had. He smiled at your comment causing him to forget some of his anger and he moved to a chair beside the one you were sitting in.

You asked the count what was troubling him, but he only shook his head in response. You looked at him solemnly and reached out to hold his hand that was resting on the armrest of the chair. You rubbed small circles on the back of his hand and told him, as you had many times, that if he ever needed anything, he need only ask.

The Count took a deep breath and squeezed your hand tightly before speaking, “The two of us have been friends for a good while now, haven’t we, Y/N?” You nodded in reassurance. “If I told you something in confidence, what would you do?”

“Orlo, whatever is troubling you, I won’t tell a soul, you have my word.” Orlo nodded, considering what you had said, then asked if you would accompany him to his apartments so the two of you could talk privately. You agreed and followed him to his apartments.You always loved reading in Orlo’s apartments especially compared to your apartments or the library. Orlo’s apartments seemed more like home to you than any home you had lived in before, even when you lived happily with your parents.

Orlo was breathing frantically again, and he shook his hands in the air by his waist to try and calm himself with some movement. Orlo began to pace, but stopped when you were about to ask what was troubling him. Orlo quickly walked to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to steady himself and spoke, “You mustn't tell anyone. You have to promise me, Y/N. You must promise me that you won’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you.” Shocked, you could only nod a reply. Orlo brought his hands down to yours and pulled you into the extra seat he kept behind his desk. He wiped his face then returned his hand to yours and squeezed to reassure himself that you were still there.

“Y/N, I have been working alongside the Empress to form a coup against the Emperor. I know that I should not be telling you this, as it could endanger our plans, but the more I have grown to know you, the more I have grown to care for you, I could not live with myself if anything had happened to me and I was unable to tell you of how I felt. I am so scared about what the Empress and I are planning and I do not know If we will even make it out of this alive, but I need you to know how much I care for you, just in case.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Orlo. We will get through this together.”

“We? You are okay with all of this?”

“Do not misunderstand me, Orlo, all of this is terrifying and I’m not okay with this. However, Peter is not fit to rule Russia. So, despite the dangerous nature of the coup, I will stand beside you, no matter what!” You smiled reassuringly at Orlo and rubbed circled on Orlo’s cheekbones. Orlo smiled back and, in a moment of courage and high emotions, leant forward and kissed you forcefully. You smiled into the kiss and held Orlo’s neck to deepen to kiss. Orlo moved his arms around your back and pulled you from your seat and onto his lap. The two of you continued to kiss, your kisses growing more intense and intimate by the second. You readjusted yourself on Orlo’s lap and accidentally ground against his crotch. Orlo moaned into your mouth and in your new sitting position, you could feel Orlo growing hard beneath you. You were overwhelmed by the amount of emotions running through you, but you trusted Orlo and wanted this moment to continue. But the two of you had to break apart to catch your breaths. You rested your forehead against Orlo’s neck, occasionally pressing kisses against his skin while Orlo brushed his hand through your hair.

“Y/N, there’s something else I must tell you.” Orlo’s voice was quiet and scared, more so than he was when he told you of his feelings for you and the coup.

“What is it? Are you okay? I know that this is your first time with anyone, but-” You quickly became as flustered as Orlo, but then he interrupted you.

“Well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He sighed while closing his eyes to collect his thoughts, then spoke softly, “I’m actually not a virgin.” Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth dropped. You knew that it wasn’t wise to listen to the gossip of the court because most everyone lies, but the rumors of Orlo’s virginity were more widespread than your love life. You moved off of Orlo’s lap to listen to his story appropriately.

“Oh. When did you…”

“When I was a young man, still living on my parent’s land. It wasn’t the best experience, so when I arrived in the court of Peter, I tried to make a name for myself and forget that moment. I just did not expect that most of the other members of the palace to be like that one person that hurt me so much. I expected the court of Peter to be well read and articulate, spending their days planning a better life for the common man. I guess I am just as foolish as I was when I was young, because I still wake up every morning and go to sleep every night dreaming of Russia being better, like in the philosophies I read.”

“You’re not foolish for hoping, Orlo, especially when previous experiences have been difficult. And you have made great progress in the court and with Peter.”

“Not enough. The people here are still cruel and do not care for the lives of others.”You reached out to make Orlo face you before speaking.

“Well, of course. There is always room to grow. What matters is that you have not grown stagnant by the dreadful community in court and you have not allowed Russia to grow stagnant, despite Peter’s tempestuous attitude toward anyone who disagrees with him. That is why we need the coup. Russia needs you, Orlo. You are so close to achieving your goals!” Orlo smiled at your optimism. That’s one of the reasons why he loved you, despite the troubles you had gone through, you were incredibly optimistic.

“And after all, I did find you here. Do you still want me?” You joined Orlo in smiling.

“Of course I still want you, Orlo. I will always want you. And more importantly, I will always love you. Despite the fact that you will be displeasing Archie and the Church with your declaration, I will never be displeased or disappointed by learning your life story.” You placed soft, small kisses all over Orlo’s face and neck, eventually reaching his lips. You gave him a few more pecks, giggling when Orlo would follow you when you moved away.

He smiled widely at your acceptance then asked, “How did your first experience occur?” You questioned what he was referring to and Orlo flusteredly explained how he heard the ladies of the court whispering one day. You looked down at the realization of what Orlo was referring to and sadly had to tell him the truth.

“Those are all lies told by an awful man who was upset that I refused to sleep with him. I have never been with anyone, Orlo.” It was Orlo’s turn to be shocked. He felt ashamed that he believed the rumors swirling around the court about all of the members of the court that you have slept with, especially when he knew that all of the rumors about him were false. You told Orlo that you were sorry, but Orlo cut off your negative comments.

“Do not dare feel sorry about your choices, Y/N. You have every right to live your life the way you want to. I should be the one apologising to you because I believed the rumors without talking to you first.” You apologised for doing the same to him, then the two of you fell into a comfortable silence while holding each other. Orlo asked if you wanted to move to his bedchamber to sleep. You agreed, saying that you did not want to sleep without Orlo tonight.

The two of you talked about your pasts more in depth then moved to more intimate conversations about how much the two of you care for each other. The pair of you moved to kissing each other again, this time both of your hands moved to caress each other's bodies. Orlo then moved to straddle you and kissed up and down your neck leaving bite marks when he could. Orlo, then, slowly undid the ribbons and buttons of your clothes, placing a kiss on your skin after each section of your clothes were undone. Orlo removed his clothes so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable about being the only one of the two of you unclothed. You enjoyed looking at the soft flesh of Orlo’s torso and thighs when they were revealed to you and Orlo smiled sweetly when he saw you staring.

Orlo looked into your eyes and cupped your face.“Tell me to stop at any moment.” You nodded. Orlo passionately kissed your lips, then moved down to your neck, then shoulders, then collarbones. Orlo trailed kisses down your chest after kissing the area above your heart, then kissed down your stomach. He moved down the bed and kissed the flesh of your inner thigh, then kissed his way to your other thigh. Orlo then kissed his way back up to your face and asked, “Are you still okay?” you nodded again, this time breathlessly “You will stop me if you are uncomfortable?” Again, you nodded, too afraid to speak out of fear that no words would form in your throat.

Orlo kissed you again passionately on your lips, then moved down to suck on your nipples, making you gasp. After a couple of minutes of Orlo enjoying your moans, Orlo moved further down your body and pleasured your genitals. You gasped in pleasure at the feeling of Orlo’s tongue on you and in you and reached down to hold one of Orlo’s hands as ecstasy washed over you. Your legs closed in around Orlo’s head then fell back down to the bed. Orlo kissed up your body then kissed your lips again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips. When the two of you broke apart, Orlo asked if you were ready to continue and you agreed saying that you wanted to experience this moment with Orlo.

Orlo smiled and kissed you sweetly while positioning himself to enter you. It hurt quite extensively when he did so. You alerted him of your pain, and he stopped instantly with a worried look, and awaited your allowance for him to continue when you were ready. Orlo let you adjust to his size and kissed your neck and played with your nipples while he stretched you out. You nodded and told Orlo that you were ready and he began a slow pace. Quickening when he heard you moans of pleasure. You reached up with one hand to grab Orlo’s hair, it falling to his shoulders in the process. Your other hand was clutching Orlo’s hand tightly while Orlo’s other hand cupped your face.

It wasn’t long before Orlo’s movements became erratic and you tightened around his length. The both of you moaned and held onto each other tightly as the two of you came together. You held Orlo close to you so he couldn’t remove himself from you right away. As soon you came, a fear filled your brain and you worried that Orlo only wanted you for sex and not because he cared. Orlo kissed your cheeks and asked you what was wrong and you told him your fears. Orlo moved to lie on his back, and pulled you on top of him while he was still inside you. Orlo sweetly told you of how beautiful you were and how brave you were and how much Orlo treasured you and appreciated how you trusted him enough to be your first. You thanked Orlo for his kind words and kissed his cheek before resting back down on his chest.

A silence filled the cold Russian air that permeated through Orlo’s room and after a few moments Orlo sweetly kissed your forehead and said a soft, “I love you, Y/N.”

You were finally growing tired, but even in your tiredness you responded with a soft, “And I love you, Orlo.” before cuddling into Orlo’s neck. You fell asleep before Orlo, safely resting on his chest and being lulled by his steady heartbeat. He ran his hand through your hair and occasionally placed kisses on your forehead. He knew that you would stay with him, unlike so many before. He knew that with you, he finally had someone who would support him through everything and he had someone to support with his whole heart. Just as he first longed to be brave enough to confess his feelings for you, Orlo now longed for your future with him to grow and blossom together.

#the great #the great imagine #the great x reader #count orlo #count orlo x reader #count orlo imagine #sacha dhawan #request #fanfiction #personal post #anon #smut

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thisweekingundamwing · 3 years

Text

This Week in Gundam Wing (January 10-16, 2021)

Hey everyone! Here’s your weekly roll-up. Be sure to give your creators some love!

--Mod LAM

Fanfiction

December on the Outside by @lemontrash for @2pcbart

Characters: Duo and Wufei

Pairings: N/A

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: friendship fic, Post-EW, Preventer AU, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Friendship, Local man attempts emotions for sake of best friend, Gift Giving

Summary: Christmas. Wufei understands the concept, in theory. It’s a Christian festival now mainly about shopping, with some guff about finding the true spirit of family and happiness tacked on. It’s something both sentimental and aspirational, which to Wufei summarises Duo in a nutshell. Duo is famously a people person in the exact way that Wufei is not, and Christmas is very much a people occasion. An occasion that Duo's not getting this year unless Wufei does something about it. Armed with 24 hours and an awful list of suggestions from the Internet, Wufei's on a mission to deliver a last-minute holiday.

Strangers (Ch.15 and 16/16) by @chronicwhimsy

Characters: pilots + OC Oliver McGann

Pairings: Duo x Wufei, background Quatre x Relena, background Heero x Trowa

Rating: EXPLICIT

Tags / Warnings: long lost twins, pining, post-Endless Waltz

Summary: In which Duo and Wufei finally use their grown up words, and then do some grown up activities. Followed by an epilogue.

Without Prompting by @doctormegalomania for @antarespromise

Characters: Trowa, Quatre

Pairings: Trowa x Quatre

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: fluff, post-wars

Summary: It's been so long since we last saw each other. I wonder, do you think he remembers me?

Just a Thought by @expewrites for @lemontrash

Characters: Duo, Trowa, Wufei

Pairings: Duo x Wufei

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: friendship/love, partners to lovers, developing relationship, reunions, reconciliation, companionable snark, romantic gestures

Summary: They do say it's what counts.But Wufei would like to know just what Duo was thinking, meeting him at the spaceport with a big bouquet of flowers.

Champagne and Cider by @noirangetrois for @seitou

Characters: 5 pilots

Pairings: Heero x Trowa x Quatre

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: crossdressing, MPREG, nonbinary character, fluff, cuteness, happy beginning, happy ending, good natured teasing

Summary: Heero, Trowa and Quatre have a happy surprise for Duo and Wufei.

Winter Wonders by @lifeaftermeteor for @noirangetrois

Characters: Mariemaia, Une

Pairings: N/A

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: family fluff, holiday fluff, domestic fluff, post-canon, post-EW, ice skating, holidays, Christmas

Summary: Mariemaia and her guardian, Cordelia Une, enjoy a night out in Brussels’ Christmas Market.

Once Upon a Time in Mars by @tziganecaffiends and @zaganthi

Characters: Wufei, Treize, Sally, Kathy Po, Mariemaia, Une, Zechs

Pairings: Wufei x Treize

Rating: EXPLICIT

Tags / Warnings: major character death, body swap, identity swap, PTSD, memory alteration, grumpy old men

Summary: He held the device in his hands, turning the helmet over and over again as he thought about it. He had been quite adept at ZERO even before they had modified it. It had never been difficult for him. He could choose so many ways to go, if only he wanted. He already knew what he was going to do, though.

Thin Ice by @seitou for @lokineko

Characters: 5 pilots + Relena, Hilde, Cathy, Iria, Sally

Pairings: N/A

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: trans character, trans Sally, unintentional deadnaming, mostly fluff, let them be children

Summary: Sally believes there are things everyone should experience at least once.

LAM!verse Snippet by @lifeaftermeteor

Characters: Trowa, Quatre

Pairings: Trowa x Quatre

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: slice of life, post-canon, post-Endless Waltz

Summary: This was not the first time Trowa’s next photography excursion had come up during their video calls, but it was the first time Quatre had seriously pressed him about financing the trip. In full this time.

Looking for Yourself Out There by @amberlyinviolet

Characters: Duo, Wufei

Pairings: Duo x Wufei

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: PTSD, guilt, self-recrimination

Summary: The story teases out of Duo in bits and pieces. He scatters it into conversation over coffee, sprinkles it like salt over dinner. Talks around it in the living room. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell Wufei, it’s that he doesn’t know if Wufei wants to know.

Stone Soup by @2pcbart for @original-kakabel

Characters: 5 pilots

Pairings: N/A

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: fluff, softness, loosely Ep Zero compliant

Summary: The pilots are stuck spending the new year in a safe house post-Endless Waltz and decide to make it a special night for themselves by cooking some of their favorite dishes from their memories.

Fanart

Cheesy Mistletoe Shenanigans (13x6x11) by @trickzill-art for @simulacraryn

Heero and Duo celebrating the New Year by @manybeary for @duointherain

Hot Mess x 6 x 3 by @lokineko for @2pcbart

Trowa and Quatre by @antarespromise for @expewrites

Several by @idrawprettyboys

Duo with his hair down

Relena Darlian

Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy (tw: self-harm, cutting)

Duo Maxwell in a kilt

Duo Maxwell 90s fashion

Duo Maxwell (cw: non-explicit masturbation)

Heero and Zechs

Zechs and Noin

Heero, Trowa, and Apples by @seitou

Noin on Mars by @theboringbluecrayon

Trowa Barton by @sabisbastelkiste

Quatre x Dorothy by @alphaikaros

Relena Darlian by @alphaikaros

Trowa and Quatre (WIP) by @keiko1183

Other Fanwork

Headcanons and Discussions

Duo is the only normal one by @cynthiaandsamus

GW Critical Analysis by Students, shared by @ikuzeminna

Other Fun Stuff

Duo and Relena’s first meeting by @incorrectgundamwingquotes

@incorrectgundamwingquotes continues to make us laugh (example)

Calendar Events

Cocktail Fridays with @gwcocktailfriday

Post your response on Fridays between 3-5PM EST

This week’s prompt is over here.

The Holiday Exchange just wrapped up yesterday with @thisweekingundamevents

I’ve tried to catch as many as possible that were posted here, but in case you (or I) missed one, @thisweekingundamevents will be posting a roll-up of all of htem on January 22, so stay tuned!

Month of Heero as advertised by @thisweekingundamevents is still going strong.

The current prompt (Training) wraps up on January 18. The next one (Technology) will run January 19-25.

Valentine’s Event by @thisweekingundamevents

No formal sign-ups, but be sure to check out the link to vote for this year’s prompts.

Lemony Shenanigans Event hosted by @gwlemonyshenanigans

Sign ups to participate in the NSFW event run January 6-March 1.

Posting will run May 1-31.

2021 Rhythm Generation Zine with @gundamzine

Theme will be announced on February 1, 2021

Mods are answering questions from the interest check so be sure to follow the zine account for info and updates!

#gundam wing

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ryqoshay · 5 years

Text

How to Handle a Maki: Maki’s First Adventure

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~8k Rating: T? Maybe G; I’ve been overcautious as of late it seems AU: RPG Time Frame: ??? Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: And now I’m writing a fourth fic... yay?

As with the first chapter of Heavenly Life, this serves as a proof of concept, this time for an idea I had when writing HL (AU). If I’m going to start writing a fantasy, non-canon compliant AU for YohaRiko, why not do so for NicoMaki as well?

Also, major thanks to noelclover for providing inspiration via amazing RPG NicoMaki fanart - links will be provided in the followup post. I consider it an honor and a privilege to have been able to brainstorm ideas with a fellow fanwork creator and pray this work lives up to what was in mind upon creation of the aforementioned art.

Edit: Upon reviewing this chapter for purposes of writing something else, I realized something either didn't copy/past right or didn't save correctly when I originally wrote it in Word. As such, I have added a bit just before Maki's first adventure actually begins. Nothing major, just a bit of in-universe explaining as to why some things ended up as they did.

Maki was happy.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, she was truly, honestly, happy. She had arrived at her destination. And had done so all by herself.

She had not ridden in a fancy carriage owned by her family. Instead, she had walked, despite it taking over a week, not just a few days. Along the way, she had not stopped at the homes of local nobles where she knew she would be showered with gifts and granted the best room and board they could offer. Instead, she had stayed at each town’s tavern, where she had rented a room and had eaten the food provide by said taverns. On the nights she was unable to make it to the next town, she had made do with supplies she had brought with her. The clothes she wore were not ornate in any way and did not sacrifice comfort for style. Instead, they were hearty and durable, would not tear at the slightest of snags, and had no hem that needed to be held up to allow her to move.

And, perhaps most important of all, she had been able to earn money on her own, money not given to her by her wealthy parents simply for being their daughter. She had found many opportunities to sing and perform for coins tossed into her hat to help supplement her finances. Nothing about the journey had been extremely luxurious as far as she was concerned, but it had been enough to get by.

Now she stood in front of an old, but sturdy structure that was smaller than she had been led to believe. Her feet were sore from all of the walking, she had depleted much of her rations, she desperately wanted to bathe and sleep in a bed, and the wonderful aroma wafting through the cracks in the door made her stomach grumble, but she was here. She had finally arrived at the guildhouse of the Yazawa branch of the Adventurer’s Guild.

This particular branch had been suggested to Maki by Rin, the fiancée of her friend Hanayo. The two of them had recently started frequenting this location because they were fond of the manager, one Yazawa Nico. Apparently Hanayo and Nico shared some strange obsession with idols, both ancient and contemporary. Rin didn’t quite understand her fiancée’s fascination with statues but was happy to support her in her research and adventures. Maki definitely didn’t get it either, but she trusted Hanayo and thus had decided her first adventure would be some idol research for this Nico person.

She knocked on the door and awaited a response. Nothing for several minutes. She knocked again, a little harder this time.

“It’s unlocked!” A voice came from within.

Unlocked? Maki glanced from side to side. No guards in sight. Was Nico some sort of mage that warded off intruders via magic? Or perhaps Nico was just that trusting of others in the world? Then again, perhaps in the eyes of a thief, this place didn’t look like it was worth looting?

Memories came to her of all the guards, servants and the like who were ever-present around the noble and royal folk and their property. Though certainly possible, it was difficult to harm or steal from those in higher society, if for no other reason than the sheer number of potential witnesses. Heck even the taverns in which she had stayed often had a handful of people around that could deal with situations. But this place…

“You coming in or not?” The voice called again.

“Right, sorry…” Maki replied, finally opening the door. Immediately, a warm breeze slipped past her, carrying with it a potent burst of the aroma she had smelled earlier, causing her stomach to grumble again. “Hello?” She called into the building

“In the kitchen!”

Maki followed the sounds and smells of cooking. Turning the corner, she stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Without a doubt, she had found the kitchen and the source of the tantalizing smell. But what struck her was the individual currently preparing what looked like a feast for no less than twenty people. With dark black hair pulled up in youthful twintails that bounced along as she practically danced from pot to spit to chopping board was a girl at least two years younger than her, possibly more.

“Welcome!” The girl said, turning a brilliant smile toward her.

“Uhm… is this the Yazawa Branch Guildhouse?” Maki asked.

“You got the right place. Now what can I do for you?” The girl reached over to stir the pot while she talked.

“I’m supposed to ask for the branch guildmaster, Yazawa Nico?”

“You found her.”

“…” Maki blinked. Surly she was being pranked. There was no way a kid was in charge of a guild, even if just a branch.

“So again, what can I do for you?” The girl repeated her previous question, her smile waning ever so slightly as a bit of impatience seeped into her voice.

“I’d… like to speak with Yazawa Nico.”

The smile dissipated entirely, replaced by a scowl as the girl put a hand on her hip. “That’s me.”

Part of Maki wanted to give her credit for her dedication the act, but she needed to get down to business. “Look, kid…” She cut off as a guttural growl came through the girl’s sneer.

“Onee-chan!” a young voice shouted from the direction of the door.

Immediately, the girl’s smile returned, somehow even brighter than when she had initially greeted Maki. Half a second later, a smaller version of the girl barreled past Maki.

“Cocoa!” Another smaller version appeared. “Don’t run in the kitchen when Onee-sama is cooking!”

“Smell good…” A third voice drawled.

There were four of them? Maki’s gaze shifted among them. They all had vibrant crimson eyes and dark hair, though one’s hair was a bit more on the brown side. And she was pretty sure the shortest one was a boy. Maybe…

“Ah, a guest.” The polite one turned toward Maki and greeted her with a bow. “Are you a new recruit?”

“Maybe?” Maki replied.

“That’s wonderful. Onee-sama may be the No. 1 Guildmaster in the Universe, but it has been difficult for her to get new recruits as of late.”

“Cocoro.” The purported No. 1 Guildmaster said with a disapproving air.

“Sorry, Onee-sama.”

“We’re doing just fine here.”

“My name is Cocoro, by the way.” The girl said, turning back to the guest. “And your name?”

“Maki.”

“It has been nice to meet you, Maki-san.” Cocoro smiled. “I’ll go set the table.” She then told her sister.

“Thanks.” The guildmaster then patted the head of the girl still wrapped around her waist. “Cocoa, go play with Cotaro. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“Alright.” Cocoa replied, detaching herself. “Hi, Maki-san.” She said, running past the redhead.

“So, Princess,” Nico turned her attention to Maki “you got a surname to go with that gorgeous face and rude attitude?”

“Gor… rude? P-Princess?” Maki couldn’t decide what to react to first. “What the heck?”

“That’s what your name means, right? True Princess? What, did your parents hope you would marry into royalty or something?”

“No, I, uhm…”

“What, you gotta problem with people knowing your family name?” Nico’s eyes widened. “Maybe you have a bounty on your head?”

“Buweeh?!” Maki balked. “Bounty? No, that’s not it.” She shook her head. “That’s not it at all.”

“Hrm, a shame.” Nico shrugged. “Could’ve used the reward…”

Maki deadpanned at the other girl. “Nishikino. My name is Nishikino Maki.” Though as soon as she said it, Maki wondered if she shouldn’t have come up with an alias instead of using her real name. Her given name was probably fine, but…

“Nishikino Maki.” Nico repeated. “Has a bit of a regal sound to it.”

Wait, did that mean Nico didn’t know about the clerical clan headed by the Nishikino family? What kind of adventurers guildmaster hadn’t heard of the Nishikino clerics, even if just a backwater branch manager?

“I guess…” Maki admitted, reaching up unconsciously to twirl a strand of hair around a finger.

Nico shrugged it off. “So, back to my still unanswered question, what can I do for you?”

“Rin and Hanayo recommended I come here to get a contract.”

“Beginner adventurer, eh?”

Maki wanted to deny and claim that she had some experience, but Nico continued.

“Yeah, I have a few things we could do.”

“We?”

“Of course. I’ll go with you on your first contract or two; show you the ropes of adventuring and dungeon crawling. Cocoro can watch the place while we’re away and everything will be fine.”

“I see…”

“So, I’ll get the paperwork and gear together later and we can head out in the morning. But for tonight, you can join us for dinner then we’ll see about getting you a room.”

“Alright.” Maki found herself getting a little excited. Despite the hiccup with introductions, things seemed to be going well and she was one step closer to her new life of adventure.

“Anyway, I’m almost done here, so go hang out for a bit, but don’t go upstairs.”

“Huh?”

“NozoEli are up there.”

“Nozoeli…?”

“Sorry, Nozomi and Eli.” Nico corrected. “They’re two people, but since they’re practically attached at the hip, some of us refer to them as NozoEli. Kinda like RinPana, the ones who sent you here.”

“I… don’t get it…?” Maki had never heard her friends referred to in such a way.

“Anyway, they’re up there ‘celebrating’ Eli’s successful hunt, so unless you want to be scarred for life, don’t go up there. Nozomi has been pretty good lately in remembering to cast a spell to soundproof the room, but still usually forgets to lock the door, so if you go into the wrong one…” Nico shook her head as thought to clear unwanted memories.

Seems like not locking doors is commonplace around here, Maki mused to herself.

“Mmm… that smells delicious, Nicocchi.” A voice came from the direction of the stairs.

“The kids are here, Nozomi,” Nico replied without even looking “so you’d better be wearing pants this time.”

“Is a skirt alright?”

“You know what I mean.”

The girl coming down from the upper floor giggled. Long purple hair fell down to her hips and green eyes held a gaze that gave the feeling she knew more than she would ever let on. A smile matched the knowingness of her aura as she noticed Maki.

“Elicchi will be down in a bit.” Nozomi directed toward Nico despite her approaching Maki. “She’s a bit more tired than I am; wore her out a bit, it seems.”

Nico groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Tojo Nozomi.” The purple-haired girl greeted, holding out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Maki-chan.”

Maki blinked but accepted the handshake anyway.

“Don’t let her get to you, Nishikino.” Nico spoke up. “She’s like that with pretty much everyone.” She finally turned her attention away from her meal preparation. “You know you could try being a bit more formal at first from time to time, Nozomi.”

“Says the girl calling her Princess.” Nozomi grinned.

“Yeah, but that’s what her name…”

“Oh, is that ready? I’ll bring it out to the table.” She grabbed serving tray filled with carved meat.

“Thanks, but no sneaking a bi… hey! I saw that!”

The purple-haired girl laughed through a mouthful of meat as she made her escape to the dining room.

Nico sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with her…”

“Because I’m your best source for rare components and you know it!” Nozomi called from the other room.

“Yeah, yeah…” Nico made a dismissive motion with her hand despite knowing the other girl couldn’t see it. “Anyway, Nishikino, if you would be so kind as to take this and follow Nozomi, we can eat soon.”

“Maki is fine.” Maki stated as she accepted the platter of crudités.

“Right, and I’ll overlook the kid thing if you call me Nico, the No. 1 Guildmaster in the Universe.”

The redhead couldn’t help deadpanning again.

“Or just Nico.” The raven-haired girl conceded with a smile.

As Maki made her way to the dining room, she found herself wondering if the No. 1 thing had been a joke or a test. Either way, she did feel a bit bad about misjudging the guildmaster’s age. She knew how she felt when being patronized by those older than her due to her age or lack of experience.

Although… had she actually misjudged Nico’s age? She had younger siblings, sure, and was the manager of this branch, but that didn’t mean she had to be any particular age, or even an adult for that matter. Maki was pretty sure she remembered reading the account of a girl who had taken command of a small mercenary guild when she was barely eleven. Not that it really mattered either way, but perhaps she should ask that Nozomi girl.

For better or worse, Maki was unable to inquire about Nico as the moment she made it to the table, a blonde shambled down the stairs, looking like she had just run a marathon. Said blonde introduced herself as Eli and took a seat next to Nozomi who immediately clamped a hand on her leg, earning a disparaging remark from Nico. Cocoro called her other two siblings and once everyone was at the table, they began their meal.

Conversation was lighthearted as full introductions were made and several stories were told. Nozomi insisted Eli tell the epic tale of her hunt earlier that day before sharing a story of her own, one seemingly designed specifically to embarrass Nico in front of the guest. The raven-haired girl fired back with what Maki assumed to be an embarrassing anecdote about Nozomi, but the purple-haired girl merely laughed it off.

All in all, the experience had been quite enjoyable for Maki and stood in stark contrast to the extravagant banquets and parties she had regularly been required to attend growing up. The food was surprisingly on par, simple in appearance, but flavorful and filling. And the company was in an entirely different realm. Nobody was approaching her with the intent of talking themselves up in hopes that she would put in a good word for them with her parents or some other noble. Nobody was sucking up to anyone, in fact. Everyone was just happily enjoying the company and were including her like they had known her for years. It was all a bit… strange, but pleasantly so.

And while she was not accustomed to doing so, Maki had been more than happy to join in clearing the table after the meal. The kids were out the door moments later, leaving the four older girls to relax for the evening.

“I’ll make some tea.” Nozomi offered before heading toward the kitchen.

“Thanks, Nozomi.” Nico replied before turning to Maki. “Now, about the bill.”

The bill? For the meal? “Oh, uhm… alright.” Maki began fumbling for her coin pouch.

“Nicocchi.” Nozomi’s tone held a scolding air despite her playful expression as she turned back toward them. “You know Eli and I provided everything for that meal, right?”

“But I cooked it.” Nico insisted. “My labor has to be worth something.”

“So, are you going to charge your siblings as well?”

“Of course not, they’re family.”

“Alright, then what of the leftovers?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we were to take what Maki-chan ate out of what Elicchi and I will be taking with us?”

Nico opened her mouth to argue further but paused to think for a moment. “You know what, fine, we’ll just call it all even.” She turned back to Maki. “But standard room and board fees will apply if you want to stay here for the night and have breakfast in the morning.”

“Alright.” Maki pulled out a handful of gold coins from her pouch. “Will this cover it?”

Nico’s eyes bulged. “Ye…” Her voice cracked so she cleared her throat before continuing. “This much is fine.” She said, taking only one of the offered coins. “We can work out a weekly or monthly fee later if you end up sticking around a while. And of course if you join the guild, there is an even bigger discount, and I can deduct it directly from your pay.”

Maki nodded in agreement before the two made their way to the living room to join Eli.

“Tea is ready.” Nozomi announced a few minutes later, carrying a tray toward the fireplace.

“Almost done here.” Nico stated, stacking a few more logs. “Want to do the honors?” She offered, turning to the purple-haired girl.

“Of course.” The mage replied, and with a quick snap, a crackling fire leaped up from the wood. “So, Maki-chan,” she directed her attention toward the redhead “know any good songs?”

“Quite a few, actually.” Maki retrieved her lute. “Any requests?”

Nozomi shrugged. “Bard’s choice.”

“Alright.” Maki agreed and immediately began to play.

Nozomi took a seat next to Eli and leaned into the blonde who put her arm around her as they settled in to enjoy the show.

For her part, Nico sat back and let the stringed melody envelope her. Then the singing started. And for a moment, she wasn’t sure if her heart had merely skipped a beat or stopped altogether. Maki’s voice… it was heavenly. The redhead matched her tone flawlessly with her instrument, blending their harmonies in ways Nico had never imagined possible. And the song. She’d never heard it before, yet it felt so familiar that she found herself wanting to join in.

And then it was over. Nico suddenly remembered to breathe and leaned back into her chair without knowing when she had sat forward.

“Bravo!” Nozomi cheered, disturbing Eli from her trance similar to Nico’s. “Encore!”

Maki smiled at the request and obliged, filling the guildhouse again with music.

Nico had lost track of how many songs were sung but was happy Maki had gone with a few she knew and had let her sing along. Eli and Nozomi started drifting off to the later songs as though they were lullabies and Maki chose slower, softer songs to accommodate. Eventually, with some reluctance, Nico called an end to the concert, reminding Maki that the two of them had an early morning. However, as the other three girls shuffled upstairs, Nico instead headed to her office. The others would sleep, but she still had work to do.

Maki’s eyes opened slowly at what sounded like a knock on her door.

“Time to wake up!” Nico’s voice called from the hallway. “Your breakfast is already getting cold!”

Wearily, Maki sat up, stretched and yawned. With a deep breath through her nose, she inhaled another amazing aroma, a bit different from last night’s but enough to make her stomach grumble. Though part of her wanted to go back to sleep in the surprisingly comfortable, yet simple and small bed, the rest of her wanted more of the guildmaster’s delicious cooking. Thus, she crawled out of bed, wrapped her cape around her shoulders and shambled downstairs.

“Good morning!” Nico greeted her cheerfully, “Who knows when NozoEli will be down, but you and I have a few things to do before we head out.”

“Mmmph…” Was all Maki managed in response before collapsing into a chair at the table.

“Not a morning person, eh?” Nico chuckled. “Well if you’re gonna be an adventurer, we’re going to have to work on that.” She set a steaming cup in front of the redhead. “Here, I’ve found this stuff to be more effective than tea. Not sure where Nozomi gets the beans though.”

“Beans?” Maki lifted the mug to inspect the dark liquid within.

“Yeah, instead of leaves I guess. Strange, I know.” The raven-haired girl shrugged. “But it does the trick and helps me stay awake to concentrate on my duties.”

“Mmm…” Maki hummed after taking her first sip. The brew was definitely different than the tea to which she was accustomed, but not in a bad way. If it was truly more effective than tea, she figured she wouldn’t have a problem getting used to it.

“And here’s your breakfast.” A plate appeared in font of her as well. “I reused some stuff from last night, but the eggs are fresh.” Nico explained before taking a seat herself.

Breakfast proceeded mainly in silence, as Maki’s mind stumbled in getting through her morning fog. However, she did notice Nico seeming to pay particular attention to her with each bite she took, as if evaluating her reactions. Had she done that last night? Maki couldn’t remember. Perhaps the general hubbub of NozoE… Nozomi and Eli, she found it odd to refer to them together, and Nico’s siblings had distracted her?

In any case, Maki was familiar with the behavior as she had watched many chefs, as well as other servants, await the approval of the nobles they served. So, did that mean Nico wanted Maki’s approval?

“That was delicious.” Maki said after her final bite.

“I know, right?” A brilliant smile turned up the guildmaster’s lips. “Nico is the No. 1 Chef in the Universe after all.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. She wouldn’t have gone that far, but she would certainly admit that Nico’s skill exceeded those of at least some chefs she had encountered over the years. And what the heck was with the No. 1 thing? Didn’t she refer to herself as the No. 1 Guildmaster as well? Or did her sister say that? It didn’t matter, either way it quite the strange way to refer to oneself. And presumptuous. There was no way Nico had been able to meet and compare herself to every other guildmaster or chef in the realm, much less the universe.

However, as prideful as the proclamation had been, Maki couldn’t deny that seeing the other girl happy managed to make her happy as well. Nico was quite cute when smiling that brightly.

And on the topic of cuteness, gone were the girlish twintails of the prior night, replaced instead with low, twin buns that managed to increase her visual maturity without diminishing her cuteness. In fact, Nico’s entire outfit was more professional, yet no less adorable. She definitely looked more like a guildmaster today than when they had first met. And the pink pouch on her belt was a fitting highlight, if Maki were to assume the other girl’s color preference.

“So, you’re done?” Nico’s question brought Maki back to reality.

“Uhm, yeah…”

“Very well,” Nico stood and collected the plates “Let me bring these back to the kitchen. Wait here and I’ll get your contract and supplies. Feel free to top off your mug if you want.” She motioned to the carafe of the curious concoction.

Maki was more than happy to partake as she realized she was indeed waking up faster than normal. She sipped at her fresh cup while awaiting Nico’s return.

“Here we go; your Standard Issue Beginner Adventurer’s Pack.” A backpack was set on the table. “And, here is an itemized receipt of everything in it.” Nico held a slip of paper out for Maki to take. “If you feel you don’t need a particular item, or already have one, return it now for a full refund. However, once you leave here, it will be considered used and you’ll only get half price.”

“Half?”

“Standard operating procedure.” Nico explained. “You’ll find the other shopkeeps will all offer the same.”

“Hrm…” Maki began to study the list. “Torches?”

“We’ll be going into a cave, can you see in the dark?”

“No…”

“Do you know any spells the cast light?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then you’ll need a light source. Otherwise you are likely to be eaten by a grue.”

“Eaten? Grue?” Maki blanched. “What the heck?”

“Kidding. Kidding.” Nico laughed. “There have been no reports of grue attacks in this area for at least a few weeks. But do be wary of the occasional gazebo.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Anyway, all adventurers need light eventually, so I include torches in the standard pack. However, due to your apparent finances, I would personally recommend an Everburning Torch. You’ll never need to replace it, unless you lose it, of course. Which reminds me,” She produced another slip “here are a few other upgrades I would recommend.”

“Rope? Why would I need rope?” Maki was still looking at the original list.

Nico sighed. “I could literally spend all day explaining the various uses for rope. Suffice to say every adventurer needs it at some point.”

“What’s a crowbar?”

Nico balked a bit before opening the backpack and retrieving said item. “You can use it to pry things open; doors, chests, and whatnot.” She made a couple motions to demonstrate. “Technically you can use it as a weapon in a pinch, but I’d recommend you use the daggers in here instead.”

“Daggers?”

“Everyone needs a backup weapon or two. We’ll get to your primary weapon in a moment.”

“Alright… Oh, I already have a mirror, soap and these as well.”

“Of course you do.” Nico reached into the backpack to remove the named items.

“What’s a handy haversack?”

Nico’s eyes lit up. “Only one of the best utility items an adventurer can have!”

“It’s a backpack…”

“Not just any backpack! It’s bigger on the inside!”

Maki raised an eyebrow.

“Magic. Extra-dimensional space and all that. In any case, it can hold far more than a regular backpack. And it will magically sort your inventory so whatever you’re looking for will always appear on top for easy retrieval. Keep that lute of yours safe and sound but retrieve it with ease. Feet sore from lugging around a hundred pounds of stuff? The haversack only weighs five, even with everything in it.”

“Alright, I’ll try one.”

“Excellent.” Nico grinned. “I’ll be right back.” She turned and took two steps but paused. “Actually, follow me and bring that pack. We’ll get you a weapon while we’re at it.”

Maki did as instructed and followed the guildmaster into a room full of supplies.

“You’re in luck. This is my last one.” Nico said, taking a backpack off a hook on the wall. “A bargain at twice the price.” She set it down on a counter. “Go ahead and start moving stuff while we talk weapons.”

Maki nodded.

“I noticed you didn’t appear to have a weapon of your own when you arrived, so I’m assuming you stuck to main roads on your way here.” Nico move to a display rack. “But you never know what you’re going to encounter out there in the wild, so you best be prepared. Do you prefer ranged or melee?”

“I’m not sure…?”

“Have you had any archery practice?”

Maki shook her head.

“Melee it is. Now, anyone can swing a blunt object around and cause some damage, but have you had any training with a blade?”

“I had some fencing lessons growing up.”

“Ah, then perhaps you’d be interested in a rapier.” Nico selected a blade and moved over to the other girl.

“Yes, that looks familiar.” Maki nodded, accepting the sword. “It’s quite lovely.”

“I know, right?” The guildmaster puffed out her chest with pride. “Nico is the No 1 Blacksmith in the Universe.”

There it was again. By the gods this girl had one hell of an ego. But while it was starting to get on Maki’s nerves, she couldn’t deny the rapier she now held was indeed of masterwork quality.

“Also, here is you contract for this adventure.” Nico produced a sizable scroll. “Here is your base pay, and a statement about the commission you will earn based on the price of the artifact you retrieve. Please initial here to acknowledge it.” Her finger moved about the page to point things out. “And here we have a section about revival. Check Yes if you wish to be revived upon death, but be aware that the price of materials for the spell as well as all expenses incurred in locating and retrieving your body will be deducted from your pay. Or check No if you do not desire this service. Then initial here to acknowledge your decision.”

“You’re kidding again, right?”

“Not in the slightest. This is just standard contract stuff. But don’t worry too much about it. Where we’re going, even an amateur like you should be fine.”

“Hrm…”

“Anyway, if you check Yes, you will be charged a nominal deposit for the tracking device, which will be refunded upon its return in good and working order. Additional fees may apply for damage to or loss of the device.”

“Tracking device?”

“Something of my own creation.” Nico said, retrieving a small, metallic object from a nearby shelf. “Once it’s registered to you, it will monitor your vitals. If it detects that vitals have ceased, it will start transmitting a signal I can use to locate and revive you.”

“But you’re coming with me right?’

“I am.”

“So, why would I need this?”

“You never know what might happen out there. Maybe we get separated.” Nico explained. “Also, once you’ve registered a device, you can just keep it with you for however long you’re in the area. Heck, NozoEli still have theirs even though it’s been over a year since they last contracted with me.”

“Have either of them needed to use it?”

“That’s privileged information. But while I won’t reveal which clients have made use of this service, I will say that some have. Better safe than sorry.”

Maki thought for a moment before reaching over, checking Yes and initialing next to it.

“Excellent decision.” Nico said with a grin before doing something with the device in her hand. “Alright, place your finger here until it flashes.”

Maki did as asked.

“Perfect. Now just keep this in a pouch or pocket or whatever.” Nico explained handing over the tracker. “Just not in the haversack. I haven’t figured out how to make its sensors work through the extra-dimensional space yet. But I am still working on it. Anyway, please initial here, here and here as well. Then sign all the way down at the bottom.”

“Nico-chan!” a voice called from the entryway.

“Coming!” Nico raised her voice in response. “Finish up with this.” She instructed Maki. “And double check those lists to make sure you have everything you need. We’ll be back by dinner, so you won’t need stuff for overnight, but you’ll still want to be prepared. And of course let me know if you see anything else you want.”

“Alright.” Maki nodded.

And with that, Nico headed to the front door.

“Kotori!” Nico greeted her guest warmly. “It’s been a while. And I know that look. What kind of creature did you bring this time?”

Kotori smiled apologetically and lead the way back outside.

Nico immediately facepalmed. “A lion? Really? Where did you even find…” She glanced up to see the other girl’s eyes brimming with tears. “Fine.” She conceded, despite knowing it was an act. “But carnivores are going to cost extra.”

“Thanks Nico-chan!” The ash-haired girl practically jumped with joy.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico dismissed. “Maybe you can convince Eli to hunt down some food so I don’t have to buy it.”

“Hunt down what now?” A voice came from behind them.

“Ah, Eli-chan!” Kotori’s attention was drawn to the blonde descending the stairs. “Just who I wanted to see!”

“What’s up, Kotori?” Eli smiled in greeting.

“I received word that a Corrupted boar was recently terrorizing the town of Arcton.” The ash-haired girl explained. “I tracked it to this area and believe it’s heading toward Lerwick.”

“Arcton is fairly well guarded, I can see why it would have moved on.” Eli grimaced. “But Lerwick... If it’s Corrupted enough, it could wipe them out.”

Kotori nodded somberly. “And from the reports, it may be beyond the point where I can save it.”

“Alright, I’ll get my gear and be ready in a bit.” Eli turned halfway to go back upstairs. “Say, do you mind if Nozomi joins us?”

“Of course not. You know I always welcome her company. And her magic might prove useful.”

“I figured you two would be leaving today.” Nico spoke up. “There are bentos in the kitchen for you. Take what you want, and I’ll add them to your bill.”

“Thanks Nico.” Eli tossed over her shoulder.

“I made plenty if you want to buy a few.” Nico offered to Kotori.

“Wonderful.” The other girl clapped her hands together with a smile. “I most certainly will partake.”

“Everything is signed.” Maki said, coming outside. “W-wait, wha?” She stumbled in retreating and found herself leaning awkwardly against the doorframe.

Kotori giggled. “Oh, he won’t bite.” She stroked the mane of the lion laying beside her.

“You’re not going to react that way the first time you encounter a wolf or whatnot, are you, Maki?” Nico asked, taking the paperwork from the redhead.

“Maki?” Kotori tilted her head. “Nishikino Maki?”

Maki blinked. “Uhm… yes…”

“You know her, Kotori?” Nico asked what was on both her and Maki’s minds.

“She’s a friend of Umi-chan.”

“Umi?”

Kotori giggled. “We should work on your knowledge of nobility and royalty, Nico-chan.”

“Hmph.” Nico scoffed. “As if I care about those high class muckety mucks.”

Maki wasn’t sure if she should interject, but she often felt similar, despite, or perhaps because of the fact that she had been raised in said high society. Instead she asked, “Sonoda Umi?”

“That’s right.” Kotori confirmed. “We’ve been friends since childhood, but I haven’t seen her in a few years, unfortunately. Not since…” She trailed off and she diverted her gaze down. “Never mind.” She cleared her throat and looked back up, her smile seeming a bit off. “I wouldn’t’ve expected to find you here, Maki-chan.”

“I’m, uhm… trying my hand as an adventuring bard.” Maki decided to explain.

“I see. That sounds wonderful.” Kotori’s smile softened and become more genuine. “Let me know if you ever want a beastmaster in your party.”

“I will.” Maki agreed.

“Oh yeah, Maki,” Nico spoke up, “change of plans.”

“Hm?”

“Looks like you’ll be going alone today. I have a new pen to build.”

“But…”

“You’ll be fine.” The guildmaster assured. “It’s a simple fetch quest. You’ll be back before dinner. And on the plus side, you’ll earn more because you won’t be charged for my assistance.”

“…” The bard seemed hesitant to agree for a moment before relenting. “Alright.”

Over the next half hour, the girls finished preparing for the day. Eli and Nozomi followed Kotori’s lead to hunt down the boar. Maki began following her map to find the hidden idol. And Nico began gathering materials to build a pen for Kotori’s new beast.

Maki squinted at the map in her hands. After some scrutiny, she looked up at the cliffside. This was the place, right? It had to be. She traced the landmark on the map with her finger as though the action would somehow make things clearer. Well, in any case, if this was indeed the right place, there would have to be a cave entrance somewhere at the base of the cliff.

Still rechecking the map, she took a step forward and…

“Kyaaa!” She shrieked as her boot clipped an exposed root and she stumbled down to her knees. “Ow ow ow oooowww~!” She cried, rolling back into a sitting position.

That was stupid. She chastised herself, inspecting the scrape marks on both knees that were just starting to bleed. Hissing, she quickly brushed away some of the larger chunks of debris. Then, holding a hand over each knee, she began to sing.

A soft red glow appeared between hand and wound and after a few seconds, both were mended. However, despite having fully healed her injury, Maki did not stop singing, mostly because the song was not over. As the melody continued, she fetched a handkerchief and waterskin from her bag. Then, after dampening the cloth, she cleared away the last of the dirt. Finally, she stood back up.

“Ssssing…” A voice like leaves in the wind rasped from behind her.

Startled, Maki spun to face whoever had spoken. “Who…?” She asked, not seeing anybody. “Where…?”

“Ssssing…” The voice repeated.

Up. Maki looked toward the branches above her to see a woman, body half covered in feathers, perched in a nearby tree.

“Who are you?” Maki inquired.

With a flap of wings, the woman descended to hover in front of the redhead. Maki froze as she noticed the bow nocked with a wickedly tipped arrow pointing at her. She doubted she could draw her rapier and close the distance before being hit with one, possibly two arrows.

“Sing!” The bird woman demanded, drawing the bow.

“A-alright…” Maki held out both hands defensively, revealing them to be empty. “I’ll sing…”

And with that, Maki began a new song. One that was different than her healing song, one she hoped would calm and placate.

Sure enough, halfway through the first chorus, the feathered woman lowered her bow. By the second, she had moved to a nearby rock to perch.

“Another.” The winged woman stated as soon as Maki finished.

“Uhm… do you mind if I fetch my instrument from my bag?” Maki inquired.

The bird woman cocked her head to the side with curiosity, but Maki noticed her grip tightening on her bow.

“It’s just a lute.” Maki explained, slowly removing her bag from her shoulders and setting it on the ground in front of her anything she did would be in clear view. “It will make my songs even better.” She assured. Then, careful to avoid sudden movements, she found her lute and pulled just the end out to show that it was not a weapon. Once the bird woman seemed satisfied with the lack of threat from the instrument, she removed it completely and slid its strap over her shoulder.

Maki plucked a few strings to reassure herself the lute was still in tune before strumming a full chord. Satisfied with the results, she began a second song. She watched the feathered woman’s features relax as the melodies washed over her. And while she did not release her bow completely, Maki was pleased to see her grip loosen.

“Another.” The bird woman stated again as the second song concluded.

Maki nodded and started her third song. This time, however, the feathered woman straightened her posture, opened her mouth, and began to sing along. Though initially startled, Maki did not let the unexpected accompaniment detract from her performance. And after a few moments, she allowed herself to be in awe as an almost perfect countermelody was provided to her song. Maki doubted the bird woman knew the song, as it was one she had written herself and had never performed for any non-human individuals; at least not knowingly. This meant the bird woman’s musical intuition was on par, if not exceed her own.

A fourth song. A fifth. A sixth.

Maki honestly felt like she could continue for hours.

A seventh song. An eighth. A ninth.

Maki began to lose count but didn’t care.

And then the feathered woman stood. As though coming out of a trance, Maki slowly focused on her vocal partner of the last… however long it had been.

“Thank you.” The bird woman said with a slight bow. “That was…” She seemed hesitant for a moment “fun” she concluded.

“Yes, it was.” Maki agreed with a smile.

With one more nod of acknowledgment, the woman flapped her wings and took to the trees. Within seconds, she was gone.

Strange. But enjoyable. Maki found herself thinking before continuing her search for the cave.

Nico wiped the sweat off her brow and glared up at the accursed yellow thing above her. In all honesty, it wasn’t a particularly warm day, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the sun’s rays, nor even a whisper of wind to help cool things off. For a moment she found herself envious of her friends and potential new recruit who were all trekking through shaded forest at this time.

Yellow movement caught the corner of her eye and she turned her gaze toward the lion sleeping nearby. The beast had rolled onto its back and pawed a few times at the air. Nico scoffed. Even the large cat was enjoying the shade of the tree to which it was tethered while she toiled away building its new pen.

Perhaps that should be her next creation; a portable shade device, or perhaps an automated fan. Or maybe even a combination there of? Nico made a mental note to draw up some designs later as she fed another log through her custom milling device.

This was the idol, right? Maki studied the sketch in her hands. It had to be. She held up the parchment near the small statue for a better comparison. Maybe if you ignored this part and added that… She turned the page sideways. Close enough. She grabbed the idol and shoved it in one of the pouches on her belt.

Nico had been mostly right, at least insofar as the ease of locating the idol. Travel to the cave had taken a bit longer, and the monsters had been a bit tougher than indicated, but Maki had made it through. She felt a swell of pride as she made her way back toward the entrance; she had completed her first adventure. On her own. Without any help.

Well, mostly complete. She did still have to make it back to the guildhouse, but that should be easy, right? She flipped the map upside down and headed out of the cave.

Where the heck was Maki? She should have been back by now. Nico checked the distress tracker again. At least the new adventurer was still alive, so that was good. But what was taking her so long?

Did she get lost? No, that couldn’t be the case. Even her younger siblings could figure out how to get to that cave and retrieve the idol within.

Maybe Maki was so much of a beginner that just the hike to the cave wore her out and she was taking extended breaks? Nico tried to remember if the redhead had purchased proper sleeping gear in case she needed to camp out for the night. And rations. Had she brought enough food for an extra day?

Well, whatever the case, her siblings would be arriving for dinner at any moment, so she took one last taste from the pot to make sure it was ready before moving to the dining room to set the table.

A knock on the door made Nico look up from her desk.

“It’s open!” She called.

“I’m back.” Maki’s voice came from the entryway.

About time. Nico thought. “I’m in the office.”

A moment later, the redhead came in the room and immediately stopped to stare at Nico.

“What?” Nico questioned as Maki slowly walked toward her with a strange expression.

“Nico-chan!” Maki threw herself on the guildmaster, knocking her out of her chair.

Nico grunted as she landed on the floor and arms wrapped tightly around her.

Nico-chan? What the heck is going on? Nico’s mind raced through ideas attempting to discern the most likely possibility. However, her thoughts were completely derailed when the redhead nuzzled against her cheek.

“What are you doing?” Nico cried. “Hey, let go of me.” She started to attempt to remove herself from the embrace.

“Noo~~!” Maki whined, hugging tighter.

“Maki, seriously, what are you doing?”

The redhead pulled away just enough to make eye contact. Nico internally cursed her heart for skipping a beat at the sheer adorableness of Maki’s pout.

“Does Nico-chan hate me?” Moisture gathered at the edges of the bard’s eyes.

“No, I just…” The guildmaster struggled to put her words together. “I just want to know what’s going on and why you’re hugging me.”

“I’m hugging Nico-chan because I love Nico-chan.”

“L-love?!”

“Yup!” Maki began snuggling against her again. “I lo~ve Nico-chan so~ much!” She practically sang.

“But, I…” Nico’s head lulled. Wait, what the heck? No. She wasn’t tired. She still had work to do!

“Nico-chan…” Maki sighed with contentment.

Maki was pretty warm… And despite its unexpected nature, her embrace was… pretty comf… No! She wasn’t… ti… No… She refused to… fall…

Nico opened her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? Damn! What time was it? Her mind ticked off all of her remaining duties of the day. Gods, she would be so far behind now. She attempted to sit up, only to find she was being hindered by an arm across her stomach. What the hell?!

The movement caused the arm’s owner to stir and murmur something quietly that sounded not too dissimilar to Nico’s name. She glanced over and immediately recognized tangles of red hair on a head currently trying to close the distance she had just created between them. Why was Maki in her bed with her? And why, by all that was holy, was she so adorable?

“Ah, you’re awake.” The door opened and a purple-haired girl stepped in.

“Nozomi?”

“Good morning.”

“Morning?”

“Afternoon, actually.”

Nico’s eyes widened and she tensed up until a gentle hand landed on her shoulder.

“You slept through the night, and most of the day.” Nozomi smiled at her friend. “But don’t worry. Everything is fine. You obviously needed it. And we all pitched in to take care of things; Elicchi, Kotori-chan, your sisters, even little Cotaro-kun helped a bit.”

Nico stared the other girl for a moment while she processed the information. “How did I get here?” She finally asked. She was pretty sure that when she had collapsed, she had been downstairs.

“Maki-chan insisted on carrying you.”

Maki-chan carried…? “Did she also change my clothes?”

“No, I did that.” Nozomi chuckled at the memory. “Despite her protests.”

“What the heck is going on with her?”

“I think she was cursed by the idol you sent her to retrieve.”

“That can’t be right.” Nico furrowed her brow. “That thing is harmless, certainly not cursed. It’s the same one I’ve used for all beginner adventurers; just keep putting it back for them.”

Nozomi produced a small statue and held it out to the other girl.

“That’s… not the right idol. Where she get that?”

“I’ve no idea.” Nozomi admitted. “You’re the idol expert.”

“Yeah, and I’ve never even seen that in any of my books…”

“Well the only thing I’ve been able to determine is that the curse only seems to be able to affect one person at a time, thus why I’m able to safely hold it.”

“That or the curse is contingent on who actually removes it from its dungeon.” Nico suggested.

“Either way, it certainly seems to bring out some… interesting behavior from your cute new recruit.”

Nico glared at the other girl. “I haven’t recruited her… yet.”

“Oh c’mon, Nicocchi, you and I both know she’s your type.” Nozomi said with a laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you checking her out at dinner the other night. I’ve a feeling you’re enjoying this more than you want to admit, even to yourself.”

Nico sighed and gave another glance toward the still sleeping Maki. Before remembering who was watching, she brushed a stray strand of red out of the girl’s face.

“It would be cuter if the curse didn’t make her so clingy…” Nico decided to try for a balance between conceding Nozomi’s point while retaining some of her initial cantankerousness. The situation did still bother her after all.

“Perhaps.” Nozomi seemed willing to let that stand. “Anyway, I sent word to RinPana, so they’ll be dropping by any day now. I figure Hanayo-chan is the best choice to help you figure out how to ameliorate the curse.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and lunch is ready when you two decide to get out of bed.” She paused and looked over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. “But don’t take too long…” She laughed and easily dodged the pillow Nico threw at her.

Once the purple-haired menace had departed, Nico turned her attention to the sleeping redhead still snuggled against her. While part of her wanted to hop out of bed and get back to her duties, she couldn’t deny that another part wanted to stay where she was. Perhaps… just maybe, a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt… While staring at the ceiling, Nico’s mind started wandering through thoughts on how to handle a cursed Maki.

Author’s Notes continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Maki #Love Live #fanfic

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anathtsurugi · 5 years

Text

All right, my fellow chickadees, a lot has been going on in the world of Anath Tsurugi. Much more than computer breakdowns and the allure of a shiny new fandom. While I don't imagine those of you who've recently started following me for my Good Omens content expected anything like this, I feel like those of you who have been with me for Star Wars and Red vs. Blue and longer might want to know some of this. Might want to know some of the things that have gone into the recent chapters of my work. I just feel like, maybe, I owe you all some sort of explanation?

No. That's wrong. I know I don't owe anybody anything. I suppose I just want to get it out into the world, get my thoughts in order, as it were. It doesn't matter so terribly much if nobody reads it; it will be a lot to take in. Mostly, I just want to tell you all a story. Because telling stories is how I cope, how I interact with reality. My need in all of this is to try and create something beautiful out of something that was painful.

So...would you mind if I told you a story?

As most things are with me, this is a story about love, about love and friendship and heartbreak and family and resilience. At the end, though, it's nothing more and nothing less than a story about love.

As some of you may have heard or picked up on, my wife and I have been attempting to have a baby. At this point, it's been roughly a year since the process began (financing, insurance coverage, choosing a donor, etc.). The first attempt didn't take, but the second one did. My wife got pregnant and we were both suddenly anxious/excited/hellafuckingnervous parents to be.

As honesty is the name of the game tonight, I would have to say that 'The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring' has largely been fueled by my own anxieties over becoming a parent. Like...am I good enough to properly raise another human being? What human in their right mind would even give me the chance? What is it possible for someone as emotionally stunted as I am to give to a child? Is the love between my wife and I strong enough to do for a little one in a world that will already be against them merely for the crime of being born to two women?

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I imagine you'll have seen a lot of this in my telling of the story of Zeb, Alex, and little Arkalia, and will probably see it more now that you know it's there. But really, that seems to have happened with a lot of the major storytelling undertakings in my life. The 400K Sleeping Beauty epic I wrote for the Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle fandom was fueled almost exclusively by my pining for my then roommate, now wife. The MCU and Red vs. Blue verses I crafted sprang up around the planning of our wedding. I suppose this was just the natural next step, for us and for my craft. If you see genuine terror in my writing of Zeb's and Alex's fears over not being good enough parental figures for Ari, that is why. This is my way to ask and to hopefully deal with the answers to these questions.

So things were going well on planet Earth, or at least they were in our little corner of it. First trimester was plugging along. We were dreaming up names and having conversations about how we wanted to parent. I was going ugly early on the whole 'wait on your wife hand and foot' thing and upping my nutritional game in the kitchen. We were designing a Miyazaki nursery of epic geekdom and talking about how we'd be covered on all bases, since she's such a huge Harry Potter fan and I'm nothing if not an uber Star Wars nerd. I was learning she considered me a more fit parent (which makes zero sense to me, given that she's the one with a decent head on her shoulders, whereas me? I'm just a dreamer, and sometimes it seems that's all I'll ever be, but...yeah, that's a conversation for another time), but the point is that it was all fine. Sure it was nerve-wracking, but we'd figure it out somehow, just like we did everything else. It was what we wanted. We were in it together.

Then we got back the results from the genetic testing the doctor's office advised we have done.

And oh, no. No, it wasn't fine at all.

Trisomy 18.

I had never heard of Trisomy 18 before we got those results. I suppose Trisomy 21 is the one you hear about because it's actually survivable. With Trisomy 18, the 5% of babies who aren't stillborn largely don't make it past the first year. It was not, they informed us, an infallible diagnosis. They would schedule us an ultrasound to be certain, but the numbers were not in our favor.

We didn't talk to anyone but each other that week, not really certain how we wanted to handle things until we knew more. Some of the extended family is fairly religious and conservative and we just didn't need that bullshit on top of everything else. We didn't need other opinions. It was our decision, and the conclusion we came to was that if the diagnosis was truly that bleak, then we would terminate the pregnancy before things got out of hand...before continuing would bring harm to my wife or suffering to either her or the baby. At that point, it becomes a question of 'Do you love your child enough to take the decision onto yourself, even though it will break your heart? Do you love them enough not to force them to suffer for someone else's misguided notion of what is and is not life?'

I didn't consider much during that week the effect all of this was having on me. I told myself I had accepted and was prepared to move forward should the worst happen. My concern was largely for my wife and what she was going through. She was, after all, the one who'd been experiencing it all. We were barely out of the first trimester and she wasn't showing yet. So far as I knew, we hadn't reached the point of quickening. It was all still distinctly her experience. If I hoped for a miracle, it was for her sake, not my own. I thought, 'I can take it. I'm tough. Put the world on my shoulders and I'll carry it for you. I would give everything I am to take your pain from you.'

I am, as I mentioned earlier, very emotionally stunted. I know it was far from their intention, but the impression I received from my own parents growing up was that my thoughts and my feelings on any given matter were not particularly important. Oh, I was consulted, certainly. The veneer was there, but if the correct answer was not given, it was little better than if I'd said nothing at all. So I had long since ceased to say anything of any real value out loud. (In truth, my wife was one of the few people to make me feel that my thoughts and feelings had value, but again, that's another story.) I don't often give of myself outwardly. Trying to draw words from my throat is oftentimes comparable to trying to pull a ball of razor wire up from the pit of my stomach. Sometimes the only way I can give of myself is in writing. All the things I can't give voice to come out in my work. So I am, probably to an unhealthy degree, somewhat proud of my own stoicism. With me, it's always 'No. You don't get to break. No matter what they throw at you, you will not feel it. You will remain unharmed, unbent, and utterly unbroken.'

(Heh, shit. Writing it out like that now, I'm suddenly left wondering if that isn't the reason I'm so damn good at breaking characters. Because writing out those moments of absolute shatter are the only way I'll ever allow myself to feel them...because it isn't me breaking. But...in a way, it is. Isn't it.)

Point here being that allowing that mentality to boil beneath the surface will eventually erupt to sucker punch you in the face. That happened to me as I was leaving work to go and pick my wife up for the ultrasound. The thoughts I hadn't allowed myself to think all week suddenly started to creep in on me.

Is this...somehow my fault?

(At the level of logic, you know it's not. It's a bloody game of genetic roulette. A one in five thousand chance. But there's always the one. Somebody's always going to take the bullet.)

Was I not ready for this? Did I not want it enough?

(Ridiculous. I know what it's like to get shafted at the genetic lottery. I've been dealing with PCOS since I was 18. While the disease isn't fully understood, there is a genetic component. Saying that this was somehow either of our fault was akin to saying that my own illness was somehow my fault. Even so...even so, you can't help but ask...)

Bloody fucking hell! Did I do this? Was there something- anything I could've done to stop this?

(You know. You know you couldn't have done. But still the thought haunts you.)

I hadn't allowed myself to feel it...to cry. I don't doubt that we both hoped for their numbers to somehow be wrong, but I think we both already knew at that point that it was over, and I hadn't let myself start to grieve. So there I was, hurtling down the highway with tears pouring silently down my face.

Traffic depending, it takes anywhere from a half hour to an hour to get between the bookstore and her office, so I had time to get myself back in order. I didn't want to make this any worse for her than it already was. I know what it does to her to know I've been crying, since I do it so rarely.

(You don't get to break.)

But...well...then something happened on the way to the hospital. I had my iphone on shuffle playing the playlist I'd compiled to listen to while working on Star Wars fic, and while we were driving, our wedding song came up in the shuffle. 'Boxes' by the Goo Goo Dolls. We had our first dance to it and I sang it to her while we danced.

I need a family to drive me crazy

Call me out when I'm low and lazy

It won't be perfect, but we'll be fine

'Cause I've got your back and you've got mine

I should probably have it understood that I have 'Boxes' on all of my writing playlists. It's just the love song to me now, and as far as fic writing goes, I tend to gravitate to ships that reflect the relationship my wife and I share. Kalluzeb, KuroFai, Bagginshield, Stucky, SpiritAssassin, MaineWash, Shallura, Kanera, Klance, Sterek, Zutara, and now, of course, the Ineffable Husbands themselves. The list goes on, believe me. Every word I write for each one of my couples is my love song to her, and my experience of the love between us. If you've ever commented on the depth of love and emotion you felt when reading one of my stories, then you've felt what I've felt, and I hope I've made your world a little brighter for it. In this particular instance, though...this...our love song...if we were going to have a miracle that day, that was it. (I know. One song on one playlist, nothing particularly miraculous there. But a one in seven hundred chance during a fifteen minute drive? I was going to take what I could get.)

You are the memory that won't ever lapse

When twenty-five years have suddenly passed

Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go

Your love's the one love that I need to know

You are the sun in the desolate sky

Your life's in these words and it can't be denied

Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go

Your love's the one love that I need to know

If I hadn't been driving, I would've reached out to hold her hand then. Normally, we sing the song together when it comes on, then we play it again, maybe a third time if we're really feeling it. I couldn't sing this time, not during the first play through, anyway. I was a little too choked up. But I managed a few of the lyrics the second time through.

I don't have the words to tell you what a comfort that song was in that moment. It could've been any song on that playlist, but it just happened to be that one.

(This hurts. We're both writers, but I don't think either of us could hope to express just how much it hurts. But remember...I chose you and you chose me. You were my dearest friend and I love you more than I can ever hope to say. It hurts now. It may never not hurt, but we'll get through. We'll be fine. We'll get through it together, like we came through everything else to stand at the altar together...and how we'll come through it all again to hold a new little someone. We're here together.)

So we faced it together, got the news we were expecting. There were other tests they could've done, but neither of us saw any point to it by then. Even if it wasn't specifically Trisomy 18, it was plainly something just as bad. We made the call there, and I do want it understood that we made the decision to terminate the pregnancy. Despite what ultimately ended up happening, I won't have that spun any other way.

So calls were made, insurances were checked out, and the procedure was scheduled. We were, unfortunately, just a touch too far outside the first trimester to safely be able to just take a pill. The abortion had to be done surgically, and my wife preferred to be put under for it, fearing she might panic if she were conscious.

And I did, of course, promise to tell you how this all started to align with the writing of the more recent chapters of TCTW, along with my beginning scraps of Good Omens fic. It began that same day, actually – the day of the ultrasound. Because I had to come home from that and write Ash's birth scene.

That wasn't all that difficult. Largely numb at that point, I didn't have much trouble writing out the dream of a happy birth. But it started to get harder a few days later when I was sitting alone in the waiting room. By then I was working on the scene where Kallus is finally able to contact Zeb after coming out of his two week coma. It wasn't even a little bit of a stretch for me to write Zeb's desperation and panic during that scene because they were my own (though I suppose I managed to spare myself a little grief writing the scene from Kallus' POV instead of Zeb's).

Another thing I ought to tell you about myself is that I'm...something of a method writer, I suppose is the term, in that I will attempt to write when I'm angry, when I'm in pain, when I'm exhausted, when I'm heartbroken, in an effort to convey the experience of these things faithfully. So, in some strange way, this was almost...familiar territory for me. To write my own feelings into the scene as it was happening. Everything came off without any trouble. The doctors came to me after it was over and told me that he'd already had no heartbeat by the time they'd begun the procedure. It was comforting in its own way. Eliminated several question marks as to whether or not we'd made the right choice. I brought my wife home once she was awake enough to be discharged, and it seemed we were pretty well on the road to recovery. But, as some of you may have already noticed, this is where we come to the part of the story where something more is lost.

My wife needed something to turn her attention to, so it seemed to us a good time to handle OS updates for my eight-year-old laptop, which was an odyssey of itself. Point being that somewhere in the middle of all this my WIP draft of that chapter was lost to the digital ether.

Everyone around me was asking why it should be so hard to rewrite the lost scene. After all, I'd written it before, hadn't I?

Yes. Yes, I had.

I had written that scene when I was alone in a hospital waiting room, heartbroken and afraid, conscious every moment for an experience my wife was blessedly able to sleep through. This was why it was so devastating to me to lose that scene. Bitter as it was, it was a piece I'd poured a large part of my heart into in a moment of despair. In its own odd way, it had been beautiful in its desolation. I had already lost something precious that day. Why did I also have to lose what I had managed to create from that anguish?

It was a moment I knew I never wanted to revisit. Nor could I ever hope to recapture the emotion of it in writing, no matter how many times I tried. I could never portray the rawness of what I'd felt in that moment. So I didn't try. The scene as it exists now is particularly disheartening to me, not because it's bad, but because it's just...not what I wrote. The scene currently in the story is hollow and has no heart. There's no truth in it. The piece of my self that I gave in that moment was lost, and I can never get it back.

So, with yet one more loss endured, I continued on. I managed to make the rest of that chapter what I wanted it to be, so I could at least be proud of that. Chapter 15 was also easy enough to handle, as it was far removed from the family and childbirth aspects of the story, simply building upon what already existed in Rebels canon. But then the time came to write chapter 16, and once again I struggled.

By its very nature, TCTW has always heavily featured pregnancy and childbirth, so there was never going to be any skirting that, but another aspect I had always planned for was Zelina experiencing the death of one of the babies she was delivering. It was always meant to be part of her character arc as a rising medic and I knew I couldn't turn away from it. My wife asked me if I could change it, but I wasn't going to do that. If I was going to change something like that, it was going to be because the story merited it, because it would benefit from such a change. It was not going to be because of my own weakness. Even so, I know I delayed writing it for as long as I feasibly could. (That was also when Good Omens started to come into the picture, but we'll unpack that in a moment.)

For all I claimed to be a method writer just a few paragraphs ago, I can tell you now that I've never had such a visceral response to a scene I was actively writing as I did that one. My fingers trembled on the keys, feeling a little weak as I moved through the words. In fact, my whole body felt weak and I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep back the feeling of nausea, everything inside of me rebelling at the notion of describing the death of this little baby. For all Zelina's experience with Akinah and her stillborn son is such a small part of the overall chapter, of the overall story, it was still the hardest thing I'd ever had to write. As with everything else, though, it seems I managed to keep this in, too, as my wife tells me none of this was outwardly visible while I was writing. I sat next to her the whole time and, apparently, the only indication I gave that anything was wrong was the fact that I was still and quiet throughout. (To give you a better standard of comparison for what she's used to, I'm normally much more expressive when I write. I'll start mouthing dialogue or testing out expressions or gestures I'm describing. I once had to explain to my brother-in-law that I was actually channeling a character when he was concerned over a horrified look I had in my eyes at the time. If I, personally, were horrified, you wouldn't know it. All you would get would be a blank slate. So of course my wife would notice something was off this time.)

It was such a little thing...such a little thing, but still it was hard. It was a relief to move on, to have death and despair conquered throughout the rest of the chapter, but even near the end of it, when Zeb is lingering over saying goodbye to Arkalia, knowing he'll have to give her up...in some small way, he speaks with my voice...saying goodbye to the son my wife and I might have had.

Of course, that particular goodbye will turn out much happier than my own did in the end. But will you be seeing me continue to deal with this a lot in future pieces? Most definitely. TCTW will continue to bear most of the emotional fulcrum (yup, little in joke there), but it's also why I've been getting into writing Good Omens fic of late. Though the theme of parenting's remained the same, it's allowed me to turn my energies toward things a little more light-hearted. This was all about the time I started piecing together my little Good Omens 'Star Wars' AU, and when I put out my mini one shot of Crowley and Aziraphale as parents. Though I have started to come up with a wider verse for that particular ficlet (because it's me; how can I not? There's actually an in joke with my wife and I whenever the subject of long fic comes up with me. She'll ask, "What's the one thing I asked you not to do?" "Write Sleeping Beauty." "And what did you do?" "Wrote Sleeping Beauty," I respond meekly.).

And for all I said my Good Omens fic is giving me the opportunity for more light-hearted fare, I have also got a story idea that deals with Crowley and Aziraphale losing a pregnancy, but also with the one they don't lose. So you'll be seeing me deal, yes, but hopefully you'll also see some worthwhile stories come out of it all since, as I said, telling stories is how I cope. You'll be seeing my newly blended concoctions of angst, loss, and sorrow, but you'll see joy from me, as well. Because, as a great storyteller once said, "...let there also be Hope. It may be a grim, thin hope...but let us know that we do not live in vain." Really, that's what writing and storytelling are to me, whether they be fan fiction or any other kind – torches against the long nights that are pain and sadness, and blades against the endless tangles of thorns that are self-doubt and fear.

Wow. Heheh. Waxed hella poetic for a minute there. But no. I don't think I'll tone it down. It's a truth, and whether that truth is used to discover the strength to be a parent through a Rebel warrior and an ex-Imperial, to find a way to live through pain with an angel and a demon who have endured for over 6,000 years, or even just to find the way to a smile with a ninja and a mage in a coffeeshop AU where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts...a truth is a truth. My wife and I might not ever be facing down giant planet-killing super weapons or averting the Apocalypse with nothing more than a flaming sword and a tire iron, but when our IRL challenges feel as insurmountable as those things, well...it helps to be able to weave a story and begin to find some of those truths.

And yes, we are doing better. It's been a few months now and we're starting over again. The going can just be a little slow since not every attempt is successful and, let's face it, assisted reproductive technology don't come cheap. And as much work as I put into my fic writing, there's not a whole lot of money to be made in the field (none at all, in fact, but...turning away from it...who really wants to read another publishing hopeful's dewy-eyed delusions of sci-fi grandeur?). So if the going seems slower with me, I do apologize. Know that I never cease to write (as I'm quite certain that if I did, I would simply go mad...*backward glance* er...well...madder, at any rate, but that's neither here nor there) and I'm hopeful of creating some good things from all this. It just...sometimes it takes a while to slog through everything. So, as always, I hope I continue to do for you. Whatever capacity you might support me or my work in, know that my wife and I appreciate it.

It won't be perfect, but we'll be fine.

#Adventures in storytelling #Kalluzeb #Star Wars Rebels #Misadventures in reproduction #Ineffable Husbands #Good Omens #Miscarriage #Abortion #Fandom and how it relates to my life my love and my work #I guess you could call this a behind the scenes look #Personal

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theblackpanther · 6 years

Note

Hello! I just discovered you and A Professional Observation a few days ago and I LOVE IT! You've got a loyal reader here. :) Can I ask questions 3 & 4 regarding A Professional Observation, please?

Hello Annie. Very happy to hear that! :) Do you happen to be also the Guest who left the review on ff.net on April 23?

Since A Professional Observation is one big author-service (written because 1. things I liked the most about “Arrow” disappeared from the show althogether 2. I couldn’t find fics that explore the tropes I wanted to read about), there is more than one example. Beware, this post is ridiculously long.

3. What’s your favorite line of narration?

“The rain was monotonously beating against the barred windows of the interrogation room. It was small almost to the point of being claustrophobic, heavily shadowed in the corners, but strongly lit in the centre from the ceiling lamps. Currently it was occupied by only one person — a handcuffed man in his early thirties, sitting by the table placed in the center. The bright light gave his costume an unnaturally vivid shade of green. His hood was pulled off his head, lying flat on his back, the mask gone altogether, probably locked up alongside his bow, quiver and other equipment in the evidence locker.”

(Maybe nothing special. But I’m not a native speaker, and those were first lines in English I put conciously after years and year of wanting to write in a foreign language—I think it works well as the opening and sets the tone of the story.).

“He was not mad. He would know if he was, wouldn’t he?”

“How he wished he was still a free man and could just run into the night. He always escaped into night from all he had. Or perhaps the night was all he had.If only he could feel the chill of wind on his face and breathe in rain-soaked air. Look at the city’s skyline from the top of the highest building, the hood down over his head and the reassuring weight of the bow in his hand… He didn’t need it to be efficient in what he was doing; he shaped himself to be the most dangerous weapon. But still he viewed his mastery of archery as something to be proud of.This was making it even more difficult to accept that the part of his life as a vigilante was over. And that he would never again hear the rustle of an arrow’s fletching being taken out of the quiver, when the feathers softly rubbed against each other, or bowstring’s ring when it was released. He loved being the Arrow, he couldn’t deny it. When he observed people from the rooftops, living their normal lives, he knew that it was something he would never have, but accepted it as the consequence of the path he had chosen. It had not only given him the sense of purpose in his once dull existence. It had also provided him with a shot of adrenaline he craved.”

(Some angst, also one of many Archery Is Awesome/Archery Placement scenes.)

“She wanted to break him down and pick through the darkest corners of his mind. Get inside his head and make him believe he was suffering from some psychological disorder. How could he regard her otherwise? Right now Doctor Pressnall, despite her ordinary look, seemed to be a much more dangerous foe than the Dark Archer and Deathstroke put together. They wanted to take everything from him, and in the end kill him. But what she intended to do was even worse. Deprive him of everything that gave meaning to his life and force him to live without it.”

“He raised his eyes slowly and observed Doctor Pressnall for a longer while as she indulged herself in reading some excerpt in his file. Studying her as he would study his quarry, trying to figure out what tactic would be best. Giving some thought to what he already knew about her, what he had learned during their conversation, and what he could make out of her appearance. If she looked at him at this moment, she would probably be greatly surprised that he was watching her like a hawk. Thoughts flashed through his mind one after another, piling up, building up a bigger, more complex picture out of little pieces. Unlike one of his fellow vigilantes, the Arrow was no detective. But still he was able to make some deductions on his own.”

(Ollie’s observations and Sherlock Holmes mode was fun to write. Before the show kind of forget about that, he was able to make some deduction/investigation on his own.)

“While people from City Hall were doing all in their power to lessen the Arrow’s influence on violent crime rates steadily declining, and ignore all the good he was doing, the “little guys” showed their appreciation in whatever way they could. True, there were no cool gadgets like Flash action figures one could buy in a gift shop, or The Flash coffee, but people found other ways to express their gratitude. There was a small tea room on Grell Street, run by an old lady, which was serving Green Arrow tea, which was basically a jasmine green tea with a fancy name. In some stalls one could buy a T-shirt or a green hoodie with an imprint of a hooded man with a bow. He looked more like Robin Hood or a comic book character in those pictures (Oliver had no idea why some artist drew him with a distinctive goatee), but still, there was no doubt that all of those were supposed to represent the local vigilante. Him.

Shortly after the Arrow saved the city from Deathstroke and his Mirakuru soldiers, some street artists painted a huge graffiti on a wall of one of buildings in Glades of the Arrow, watching over the city. Most of his face was covered by the shade of the hood. Someone from City Hall decided to paint it over, but once the people from Glades heard about it , they protested so vigorously that the plan was dropped almost instantly. The mural stayed in place.

Over the years the Arrow, become something more than only an elusive, shadowy figure. Sometimes someone managed to catch a glimpse of him. People were looking up on the roofs or peeking into dark alleys, knowing that those were his “favorite” places. Kids from Glades hoped that if they got lucky, they might find a stray arrow with characteristic green-and-yellowish fletching, or an arrowhead that police overlooked while they were securing the area and gathering the evidence. That part of the public interest was relatively harmless. Oliver was, however, getting more and more annoyed with people who wanted to take a photo of him or record a film on those rare occasions when he had to appear in open space, close to civilians. Not only because the police could use it as evidence against him later on. They put themselves into harm’s way—some were so reckless that they would walk into the middle of shootout just to get that precious photo of the Arrow.One of the most original and unexpected forms of tribute he was given was an unofficial archery contest.”

(At some point in the show people just mysteriously disappeared. The city no longer felt alive. I wanted to show what impact on the life of ordinary normal citizens the existence of vigilante hero would have and how he would fit into the city’s space.)

“Without Mom, Thea and Dad…Or even without Walter, who tried to replace his father in his life the best he could…It’s not the house anymore. He doesn’t care about his ancestors, no matter what they did, or what they achieved. They are just empty names. Probably put a lot of effort to raise themselves up over others. He wouldn’t have the means to finance his crusade without the money he inherited, but he prefers to not think of that. Because it would lead him to thinking that he is no better than other wealthy and well situated people using their position to do whatever they want. But to do what he does nowadays, having a plain English longbow and some wooden arrows wouldn’t be enough.

Damn, he really should go catch some sleep, since he’s comparing himself to Robin Hood now. He doesn’t like this association, because on some level he thinks that Robin Hood should belong to those romantic ballads and stories, where everything was so simple, painted in black and white colors. Robin and his merry men were the good guys, the Sheriff and his thugs the bad ones.

He doesn’t exactly remember when, but he learned that in Robin Hood’s time, the bow was not viewed as a noble weapon. It was associated with peasants, and what’s worse also with thieves and bandits, men who had no honor. No nobleman would touch such a thing. So maybe after all he had more in common with Robin Hood that he wanted to admit. He was no thief, but according to the law he was a bandit, and the fact that he used his skills to fight crime and injustice had no meaning to that law. “

(Robin Hood reference is must-be in “Arrow” story. Also way to slip in an information that in Robin Hood times a bow was not viewed as a noble weapon.)

“Viewed from the high rooftop, with its busy traffic on the main street arteries, Starling looks like every other city aspiring to be a modern metropolis. Long torrents of cars, with gleaming yellow and red lights, from this height small like toys, are streaming in all directions. And for a change it is not even raining today. From this vantage point all dark corners of the city and its poor, badly reputed districts are invisible, hidden in shade of skyscrapers, towering over the whole surrounding area.

Once it was one of the busiest docks on the West Coast. But the last of them were closed in the late nineties, and over the years the former wharfs were redeveloped and turned into a business district. Now it is full of office buildings, as impressive as constructions of metal, glass and concrete can be, and although the revitalization of the area is not a bad thing, on some level Oliver hates those skyscrapers; their only purpose seems to be raising themselves above others. Modern, elegant yachts are moored next to them in newly constructed marinas. The port itself introduced some major changes as well. New quays were constructed in the north part, and all the wet docks were deepened in order to handle vessels with bigger displacement. Only recently four gentry cranes were put into service in the container terminal, though there are still a lot of people who can’t find their place after the last big shipyard was closed down. Oliver poured a lot of money into a program which was supposed to help them retrain and get a new job, but it didn’t work as well as he planned.

So, to put it shortly, Starling pretends quite well to be something more. Something other than what it truly is. However, on a global scale, it means nothing. Just like him.”

“Usually when someone wants him somewhere it means that they want to kill him. Oliver comes well before the time and circles around, checking the surrounding. There is no sign of any trap though. Not many possible hiding places in the area as well, since this part of the port is remarkable mostly for its emptiness. South Pier is just a long strip of metal and concrete stretching out into the Starling Bay. A long time ago it served as the mooring place for a local cruise company. It used to have a number of connections with other port cities of the West Coast, including a ferry going to Coast City two times a day. Unfortunately the company bankrupted years ago. Although a revitalization process of the unused port area has been gradually put into motion, and over time South Pier became an official part of Harbour Green Park, none of the plans to somehow restore it have been so far successful. The sole remnant of its historical significance is an rusty archway, which used to serve as the entrance to the pier. Original shipyard lettering—"White Star Line" is still clearly readable.

Looking up at the company’s name, Oliver briefly remembers the trip to Coast his parents took him and Tommy on when they were both nine or ten years old. Sunny day, gusts of oceanic wind, a huge white ship and both of them ferreting about the deck, getting in every hole—especially if the entrance was prohibited to the passengers. On their return journey they were allowed to the helm though (nobody refuses Robert Queen). During the whole trip his parents looked genuinely happy together. He even saw them holding hands when they stood by the ship’s side, talking about something softly. Much later he was wondering bitterly if at that time his mother was already sleeping with Malcolm. And if his father was cheating on her with his secretary. After all, Isabel Rochev was not the first woman he had an affair with—he knew that there were others “lapses” in his life, much earlier.

Now all of this seems to have a spectral place in his memories. His parents and Tommy are gone forever, and that ship (he still remembers the name written with golden lettering—"Olympic") was scrapped shortly after the company ceased to exist. That archway and few bleak, distant images in his mind, like a bunch of old photographs, are the only proofs that it ever happened. If he dies tonight—and he can’t exclude that possibility—the only link with that past event will disappear for good, as well as those little parts of his parents and Tommy which are still alive in him.”

“He eventually finds himself around the bay. But instead going to the embankment near Harbour Green Park, he heads to the port, specifically to the part that hasn’t been revitalized yet. And maybe never will. An old abandoned power plant looms in the distance, its striped white and red chimney rising high. He passes a terminal container and enters an area that is a pathetic sight. He goes along a narrow street with cracked asphalt, passing long chains of railway wagons standing on the sidings on his left. On the other side, empty warehouses with broken windows and dirty, shabby-looking walls are towering over him.

He takes a short-cut through the closed ship assembly plant. A half-finished hull, lying under a gantry crane, reminds him of the skeleton of some deep-sea creature, dragged onto the bank. He goes through a large gap in the fence and finds himself under a brick wall of the abandoned power plant. He enters the building through a side entrance—it is one of his alternate hideouts. He is pretty sure that even Amanda Waller doesn’t know about the existence of this one, nor does his former team. Here he keeps some backup gear, even a spare motorcycle. But today he hasn’t come to grab some equipment, but to leave the backpack with the things he took from the foundry.”

(Finally, many descriptions of the city, which is a character on its own. Starling is full of contrasts, modern districts and neglected Glades, revitalized area contrasted with the abandoned places. Also many references to existing places/cities.)

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“I’m not crazy,” he said through clenched teeth. “So stop talking to me as if I’m one of your patients, living under some delusion and unable to tell lies from reality” An edge of threatening tone crept into his cold voice. It was the Hood speaking all over again. He regretted it almost immediately, seeing anxiety mirrored in the psychiatrist’s eyes. After all, he didn’t want to scare this woman.

“I’m not crazy,” he repeated, his tone much more level. “And contrary to what you might think, I don’t consider myself to be Robin Hood.”

“Then why do you wear this green hood? Why did you choose a bow and arrow?” she pressed on. “Does it have something to do with the island you were marooned on for five years? What exactly happened to you out there?”

(Oliver finally decides to speak with Doctor Pressnall.)

“I’m afraid you’re not in a position to judge anyone, given your own criminal record and how many victims you have on your conscience…I’m sorry for the harsh words, Oliver, but someone has to break it to you. Especially because you act as though you don’t realize how serious the charges against you are.”

He glared at her and retorted: “I’m handcuffed to the table. I get it.”

(One of many exchanges between them.)

“No man is a lonely island, Oliver, if you’ll forgive me bringing up this quote.”

(Putting references to island is always fun, second on the list after Robin Hood references—well, maybe it’s not fun for Oliver, given the situation…)

“That came addressed to you,“ says the Captain, handing the archer an envelope and glancing at him suspiciously. "You don’t seem to be surprised. Don’t say that now I’m your P.O. Box when someone wants to send you feedback or fan mail.”

“ This is not fan mail,” says Oliver grimly.

“ Queen. Oliver. Don’t turn your back on me like that,” says Lance suddenly. There is a hard edge in his voice. It stops the Arrow in place.

“ It was always so obvious, wasn’t it?”, he asks calmly, not shaken by this revelation at all.

“ You don’t seem surprised that I know,” observes the Captain.

“ You are too good a detective to not figure it out. You did a good job pretending that you don’t know.”

“ Yeah, the same goes to you. Keeping up appearances that you were not aware that I know,” sums up Lance. “Now, since it’s clear where we stand with each other and who knows what…”

“ I’ve never thanked you for what have you been doing for this city,” says Lance. His face bears a sour expression.

“ You never had to. I don’t do this for a thank-you.”

(Scenes with Lance and Oliver/the Arrow are my favorite, so of course one of the most imporant part of the story is Quentin’s and the Arrow’s cooperation—for me it was obvious that he had known for a long time who is hiding under the hood, he just didn’t care. Also, reference to Nolan’s Batman, exchange between Gordon and Batman from Batman Begins.)

“ I… I’ll call the cops!” Leeds makes another empty threat.

“ Go ahead,” says Oliver with a mocking tone. “How fast do you think Captain Lance will send his men here after you had proposed to cut down his retirement?”

“ He should be fired from the force for working with you!”

(Who said that Oliver doesn’t have a sense of humor? :p Also reference to Kevin Smith’s Quiver.)

“Sometimes I wonder…” he pauses. Barry is looking at him expectantly, so he swallows hard and goes on: “…how long I’ll be able to carry on. I chose this life. I became a vigilante, I use the night. But sooner or later I’ll go down. It might be the Dark Archer, or Deathstroke, or just some punk who gets lucky. Or perhaps some overzealous cop who’ll shoot me down. And when this moment comes, my last thought will be probably whether I made any difference.”

“ Oliver, the city would fall apart without you.”

“ Maybe. Maybe not. You know what they say… When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you. And the longer I look on my city from up here…the less sense in all of this I see.”

“ You know what I think? That you are talking complete rubbish.”

“ That is really reassuring of you to say.”

(Some angst and moment between superfriends—as Barry’s and Oliver’s friendship is another of my favorite parts of the Arrowverse. Also Batman TAS referenced, “I Am The Night” to be precise.)

“He mastered to perfection keeping two halves of his life separate. And he convinced himself that he did this to keep her out of the harm’s way. It was easier to justify not being honest with her that way. It’s quite easy to understand what he was thinking. However, some other things about him are far more intriguing. How did he choose his targets? How did he decide whom to spare, and who deserves the most severe punishment in his book? Did he take pleasure in killing? Or was simply having total control over the situation, something he was deprived of on the island, enough to satisfy him? Those are few of many questions I would like to get an answer for. Maybe by understanding how his mind works, we can understand other people like him. And see the bigger picture.”

(Doctor Pressnall gives her observation.)

“I used to hate him and everything he represented. There was a time I would have sold my badge to nail him,” admitted Lance sincerely. “But… that’s changed. In city like Starling normal methods just… fail. And if we had realized that earlier, maybe we could have avoided tragedy… (…) The lines are getting thinner, the longer I’m in this line of work,” he explained, his tone sounding weary. “I used to think that you don’t need to step outside of the law to get justice. Starling taught me otherwise. And right now all I know is that—no matter how absurd it sounds—a hooded guy with a bow is…was the only one who stood between us and other masks running around the city. And this city is hurting. There were guys like Merlyn, or Wilson, or Brick who wanted to tear it apart. Bertinelli, Triad, Bratva, Los Halcones, Church… The never ending list. Cut off one head, two new take its place… But right now we are about to put away the only guy who could do something about it .”

(This fragment is not yet published, as it’s from chapter 19. Quentin’s thoughts on the Arrow.)

I’ve said it will be long…

#ask me anything #a professional observation #arrow fic #meme #fanfiction #oliver queen #doctor pressnal #quentin lance #angst

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its-actually-withered · 7 years

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Another ichiruki fic because I'm literal trash

Title: Roses by another name Fandom: Bleach Rating: T+ Characters: [Ichigo K. Rukia K] Summary: "You're something." A boy, a girl and a stab wound. There are better love stories, but this is theirs. Link

Roses by another other

Rukia has no time for normal.

She's inherited a shady family empire upon her graduation from boarding school, and her stoic older brother pulls no punches about the reality of it. It's something she appreciates after so many years of being in the dark about how exactly the Kuchiki name stayed so prominent over the years.

So she studies under a name that isn't Kuchiki and she does everything in her power to lay low – to learn what she can about what she needs to – the dog eat dog world of finance, business and politics; something that surprisingly her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls did not cover. Until she's ready, until she can be the heir and right hand her brother needs her to be.

She has no time for normal things like making friends or falling in love, but inevitably, both happen.

Rangiku is a pain in the ass, but she's Rukia's pain in the ass. And honestly, the rowdiness of the Rukongai apartment complex just off West campus was a definite culture shock to what she was used to, something her brother showed little sympathy for (the bastard). Yet somehow Rangiku kept a strange, almost refined control of the chaos in the building. As for Ise, she really is the only sane one besides Rukia herself, and what else was Rukia supposed to do when she found out that Ise was in almost all her classes at the university anyway?

As for the love part, that's a bit more complicated because Rukia had relied almost entirely on her lack of sex appeal and her too-good-for-you nose-in-the-air act that her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls did cover which would usually deter normal guys.

Unfortunately, Kurosaki Ichigo was not a normal guy.

The first time they meet is definitely no fairytale. Not by a longshot. He doesn't pull up in some horse drawn carriage, and she isn't decked out in some enchanted dress.

In fact, he was bleeding on the floor behind the Starbucks a block away from the Rukongai, and she was wearing sweatpants that she wasn't sure were clean, a shirt that had several holes in it around the one armpit, yesterday's makeup, and an Americano she didn't want but needed because mid-terms are coming and Jesus, why does it feel like she didn't know anything after half a year –

And her response to finding him there – looking valiantly like he wasn't in pain and holding his bleeding side with an equally bloody hand, was, "I thought I looked like hell."

She really was charming; she got it from her brother. (Seriously.) But to her credit, Bleeding Guy's reply wasn't any better: "You're fucking loud, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware indoor voices were required in back alleys," she sarcastically replied.

He snorted, and she backtracked on the bitchiness because dude is bleeding, and asked, "Do you need help?"

Huffing through his nose, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in suspicion, she can practically hear his refusal ringing around in his head, and she really can't wait for him to land on a figure for the probability of him dying here as opposed to accepting the help of some strange girl he met behind a Starbucks so she stooped down to his level and offered a hand. "No hospitals, I'm guessing?"

His eyes are amber, and they glint like a cat's, and she should be concerned and wary and run away right now because – you shouldn't talk to strangers, least of all strangers you meet bleeding in alleys – but her instincts are top notch, and there'd be no harm in being a good Samaritan. She added, waving her offered hand impatiently, "Hurry up, my coffee's getting cold."

"Why are you helping me; I could be a serial killer for all you know."

She considered him for all of four seconds before she shrugged. "Maybe, but what are the chances we're both serial killers?"

And that's the line that gets him because two minutes later, he has his arm over her shoulders and her arm around his waist supporting him as they hobble towards her apartment.

It being four in the afternoon, the Rukongai was unusually quiet.

Everyone was still nursing hangovers from Rangiku's latest party which coincidentally coincided with Rukia visiting her brother in the city, and the aftereffects just happening to result in a quiet environment for her to study upon her return. (Rukia couldn't help but chuckle at Rangiku's incessant winks and nudges of "Get it?" when she told her of the initial plan, and lamenting how, "You won't be there to see the fun part, but you'll thank me, you'll see.")

The apartment is mercifully clean when they enter, though small and sparse of anything to give Bleeding Guy too much of an idea about who she was, even as she dumps him on the couch and goes to the kitchenette to grab the First Aid kit.

His hair is bright and juvenile, and that's what she focuses on instead of all the blood and – "Don't worry, most of it isn't mine."

Her hands shake a little, but her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls were filled with people who talked a load of shit just to get a reaction. Maintaining a neutral expression, she asked, "Who the hell did you piss off?"

He bared his teeth, caught between a grimace and a grin. "You should see the other guy."

He looked so weirdly proud that it was her turn to snort. "You're such a cliché."

"And you," he began, gaze only flickering briefly into hers, but making her feel exposed all the same, "are something."

She found out a few hours after he left that Rangiku, half dead herself by her own doing, still knew everything that went on in the building and – "I did not K.O everyone for you to get laid," she scolded. "Not that I wouldn't, but I like to know in advance, you know; full disclosure, total honesty."

"There's nothing to be honest about, I didn't get laid."

"Obviously," the busty woman waved off, "you're way too grouchy and confused. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied, and at least that was something she was good at, but Rangiku was annoyingly persistent.

"Then who was that guy?"

Drying the coffee cups that they had used after she had cleaned up the stab wound that had grazed his rib (grazed! he really hadn't been lying that the majority of the blood wasn't his) and putting it back in the cupboard, right next to the First Aid kit she needed to restock. "I assume you know him."

"I do, but I want to hear the words from you."

"I found him in an alley, he was hurt, I thought he could use some help."

Shaking her head with a laugh, Rangiku amended, "So you took him in like a stray kitten?"

"Not exactly."

"Trust me, hun," she said, patting her arm, "He doesn't need the help. I'm sure one of his men would have come and gotten him."

"What?"

Her jaw hung slightly ajar at the admission, and because she had a flare for the dramatics, Rangiku's hands flew up to frame her cheeks. "Oh, so you really don't know him?" At her silence, her companion declared, "You're so dense! Everyone knows him, Kurosaki, ring any bells?" Her blank look answered the question, and with a long-suffering sigh, Rangiku tried again, "How about Shiba?"

Rukia's eyes widened. "Like, the crime family, Shiba?"

"The one and only," she said with some pride. "Word is that Ichigo's extending territory, making the old guys around here antsy, you know how it is."

She did, her family was one of those old guys, and she bit back a curse. That was exactly what she didn't have time for, and she resolved to stick to the plan – stay low and out of the way. Any interaction with Kurosaki Ichigo would just be an inconvenience, something he apparently loved being because three days later, he showed up in her class.

Everyone noticed, of course, because apparently people have been noticing him for ages and she's been laying so low the only thing she'd been seeing were the words in her textbooks.

Ise was filled with warning after, as they sit across from one another in the library, "He's looking at you."

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Rukia demanded; teeth gritted as she repeated the mantra study, study, study even as she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head.

"You've heard about him, then?"

"I have," she eventually replied.

Her brother had agreed that having her own security detail would be counterintuitive in her quest in being invisible but she knew there were at least one of his men watching her, and so she had gotten him to give her intel on one Kurosaki Ichigo.

Renji had delivered. Everything from surveillance of his dodgy dealings, to fights he was involved in, to businesses that went under or rose to prominence under his control as his influence grew, Rukia felt, for an instant, at a loss of how shady her life actually didn't look compared to his.

Renji had side-eyed her hard.

"You need to tell your brother."

"And what will that do? Make him pull me out of uni?"

"No, but he should know. He could do something."

"Like what?"

"…I don't know."

"What are you going to do?" Ise asked for what felt like the third time that morning.

Sighing in frustration, Rukia asked, brow arching sharply, "Can I do something about it?"

Her companion shrugged, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "If you do, I'd love to know. This is a lot more entertainment than I gave you credit for."

She snorted because she expected to be the most boring person ever, that was the plan, and it's going to stay that way. "Whatever it is that he wants he won't get it from me."

"Is that so?"

Ise coughed.

And, though Rukia felt like she was being drained of all the colour in her face and going blood red at the same time, she remained composed because she's Kuchiki Rukia, damn it. She did not survive heiress etiquette classes and her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls to be sent off-kilter by some boy.

Tilting her head to take him in, one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other rested on the table right beside the textbook she was trying to absorb through osmosis, he was a combination of suave and dangerous.

To his credit, he didn't look like some gang banger. His bright orange hair was about the only thing that screamed delinquent, but the rest of him was all tanned, toned, lean muscle and chiseled jawline. He didn't walk around in baggy pants accented with chains; he's got suit trousers on, for goodness' sake. He wasn't even covered in tattoos. Well, except for the ones on his chest, the outlines of the black bands she can just make out from the buttoned-up white shirt that stretches across his – her eyes widened – Oh my god, no.

"Kurosaki," she greeted, neutrally, if not hastily.

"Rukia."

I didn't tell him my name. She's too invisible to know off hand; she isn't a Kuchiki here and the university has more than a thousand students in this part of the campus alone, and all she can think is Why do you know my name?

"Is there something you want?"

"Matter of fact, I do," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Does it have something to do with you eavesdropping on my conversations, or do you just make it a habit to be nosy?"

"I like to know what goes on in my school."

She snorted quietly. "You think awfully big of yourself."

His shrug was nonchalant. "I know what I am, what I'm capable of, and what I want."

"I'm still waiting on what that has to do with me," she remarked, casting aside her pencil and crossing her arms, head tilted just so in an almost mocking acquiescence of acknowledgment, and that smirk of his got bigger.

"You'll see."

And that's what he left her with, and Ise exhaled deeply, muttering, "Jesus" and Rukia can't disagree because what was that?

She still doesn't tell her brother.

Even when Ichigo sat beside her in class, arm propped up on the back of the bench like that cheesy move guys did when they were at the movies except there's nothing really romantic about it – if the half-lidded gaze he sent the other students says anything at all it's that they shouldn't come near them.

Rukia didn't really mind because that's what lying low meant – no connections, no friends – but she also wanted no attention, and Ichigo's reputation demanded it.

"Can you not?" she hissed.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Rukia can tell he wanted her to say yes, and give him that validation he wanted that he was the Big Bad Wolf on campus so instead she retorted, "You're more annoying than anything."

He snickered.

At the end of the lecture, he took her books from her and walked her to her next class, and if she wanted to fight about it, she forgets because they end up talking instead:

"The Republic is a load of crap." – He's good at distracting her – She spluttered, "Are you kidding me? It's like the greatest book on leadership ever written, it's still relevant hundreds of years after the fact." – "So is Shakespeare, and the majority of his work consists of dick jokes and sword fights, pun only partially intended." – And she forgets that she has no time for him and the inconvenience he brings because – without fail, she laughs. "Are you actually an idiot or do you have to work at it to convince people you are?" – He rolls his shoulders and smirks again, almost warm, always affectionate. "Depends on the day, depends on the person."

It's a routine she unwittingly gets into, like having coffee with Ise after their study sessions or day drinking wine in her pajamas on her days off with Rangiku as she regales Rukia on her latest escapade. Ichigo with his weird puns and love of Shakespeare and getting so easily ticked off by her to the point where the Big Bad Wolf on campus is pulling his tongue at her and teasing the hell of out her for kicks regardless of whose watching.

He's a friend in a different way that Ise and Rangiku are, Rukia is convinced. And she may not have come here wanting friends, but they're not so bad especially him.

Ichigo with his weirdly gentlemanly like habit of opening doors for her and walking her to class and carrying her books – and so what if he has two noticeably large men following them – him – at a distance or that when their attempts to irritate each other get physical, she never tries to touch him because what if he got in another fight recently and I don't know, and its healing and –

He noticed, of course, he noticed everything.

"Afraid I have cooties or something?"

"I'd be disinfecting myself constantly if that were the case," she retorted before sucking on the straw of her juice box. She'd never had a juice box before she started university, Kuchikis drank out of glasses, and Rukia certainly couldn't picture her older brother drinking out of a box. Ichigo had taken too much pleasure in that fact – that she hadn't tried it before and he was popping her juice box cherry, the nerd.

Swinging her legs from her perch on the railing of the Engineers' Building, the tallest building on campus because – "I like high places." – He huffed. "I hope you aren't thinking of jumping." – She snorted. "If I wanted to kill myself I'd choose something a bit more graceful than ending up like Humpty Dumpty on the sidewalk. Besides, the view's amazing." – "And you wanted to share it with me? I'm honored," he teased, and she almost walked all the way back down just to spite him, but she couldn't because she actually really did want him to see her favorite place.

"Then why is it," he began, suddenly right in front of her, his hands branded on the railing beside her thighs, "you won't touch me?"

Slowly she detached her lips from the straw and flicked his forehead with her index finger. "There. I touched you, satisfied?"

"Not even a little," he murmured, nudging his forehead a little against hers, getting her free hand to grasp at something – least she lose her balance and end up on the pavement– she settled for his hand next to her thigh. "Tell me."

"What's there to tell?" she challenged.

"I'm not the only with secrets."

"You don't have secrets," she retorted, "Everyone knows what you are and what you're capable of."

His agitation beginning to show in the tightening of his jaw as he asked, "So that has something to do with why you won't touch me?"

Rukia hummed, tilting her head so that they were literally nose to nose as she posed, "What if I did touch you…"

"And?"

"And you're hurt," she continued, "like the first day we met. What if I jokingly punch you, and not realize that you broke a rib or something during a fight? What if I touch you, and I hurt you?"

She expected him to snort in amusement as if this little slip of a girl could possibly hurt someone who ran a gang, but he looked to be considering her, eyes intently on hers.

And goddamn it, what was with his eyes? All intense and focused and piercing, and she can feel her blood pressure shoot up, and she demanded against the beating of her heart in her ears, "What?"

"You don't want to hurt me."

"Didn't I just say that?" she asked, rolling her eyes, mentally chanting play it off, play it off, play it off –

"Rukia," he exhaled and her name is like a caress on his tongue, and he was actually smiling as he informed, "you're something."

Snorting unconvincingly, she tried to push him away but did it too quickly that she teetered dangerously on the edge. Fortunately, his reflexes were faster than hers, and he held her to him, arms tight around her body, and her head tucking beneath his chin as she leaned against his chest.

"If it helps," he added, "I don't want to hurt you either."

And yeah, that's the day and the conversation she realized that shit, what have I done?

Friends she can handle; friends, people grow out of all the time, but love? Nonononono –

But whatever it is – was – it ends. Not in the obvious way, he still sits with her, carries her books, teases her relentlessly, but now – now there's a distance. They don't go back to the Engineers' Building.

"Shimizu-san."

Rukia looked up from her lunch, her conversation with Ise about a group project temporarily put on hold at the sound of her fake last name, and the sight of Inoue Orihime.

"Oh, hello Inoue-san," she greeted with a nod. "May I help you?"

The girl is older than Rukia by a year, and they only really have one class together – the one with Ichigo – and they worked together once or twice throughout the year for presentations, but Rukia couldn't claim to know her any more than she would any classmate.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"About what?" Rukia asked, genuinely concerned. They had a presentation in two weeks' time, did Inoue mess up somehow because there was still time to fix it –

"About you and Kurosaki-kun," she said.

She and Ise must have looked pretty comical, blinking in unison as Rukia asked lamely, "I'm sorry?"

Inoue nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry you broke up."

Ise made a sound of disbelief, but Inoue wasn't done, "We dated in high school you know, briefly, and we were just kids then and didn't know what we were doing. And I know it's only been a few days, but I hope you don't mind if we give it another try?"

What. What. What. What?

"Huh?"

She made to bow. "Of course, we don't need your permission, but I thought it would be polite to at least let you know, ne?"

Ise's dying. Rukia can see it, and she can feel her blood pressure spike for an entirely different reason to when she's around that orange haired idiot. Luckily Inoue wasn't waiting for a reply and left immediately after, probably to that same class they both shared with him. Fuck.

"Well."

"Don't say anything," Rukia ordered slowly, rubbing her forehead, her lunch forgotten on her lap. "I'm still trying to process." What was that 'we' Inoue had used? If Ichigo really was getting back together with his ex, why was he still spending so much with her? When did he even have the time to –

"So you and Kurosaki, hm?"

"No!" It doesn't matter, I shouldn't care. "Of course not!"

"Sure."

"Well apparently not," Rukia ranted, "we're hypothetically broken up and his ex-girlfriend is getting in there."

"You want to go claim your man?"

"Shut up."

But yeah, she kind of wanted to because love was an inconvenience that affected proper brain function and – her leg was jigging under the table in impatience because she can feel Inoue looking at them, biding her time for the class to end so she can –god, why is she so pissed it isn't like they're a thing –

Her jigging leg came to stop at the pressure of his hand on her knee. "Stop it."

"I can't," she hissed back.

"Why the hell not?"

"I'm irritated," she blurted instead of the lie she had prepared when she inevitably messed up and let him know that Inoue had bothered her with something so stupid, oh my god, what have I become?

For a few minutes as they paused to listen to what remained of the lecture, he asked above the hum of students getting up to leave around them, "Do you wanna to talk about it?"

She can see Inoue moving in for the kill out of the corner of her eye, and with a strained exhale and a message to whatever gods were listening to make this quick, she replied, "You'll see."

He didn't.

Without even lifting his head to acknowledge Inoue, a message on his phone distracting him, he stood. "I got to go, something came up."

Rukia blinked; the warmth of him by her side and the weight of his hand on her knee gone so fast she was left cold. "What? What's happening?"

He managed to throw her a smirk. "Don't worry, it'll be quick. I'll see you later."

Inoue's sunny smile was considerably dimmed as Rukia too stood to follow him out of the lecture hall, his long strides making her practically run to catch up to him in the hallway. "Wait, what? I'm seeing you later?"

"Yeah, don't worry I'll text you," he said, nodding at the two men that followed him about to go ahead, and there's a frantic voice in the back of Rukia's head telling her that something is going down, something dangerous and Ichigo could –

She didn't realize that he had his lips pressed against her hair until she's engulfed by him, his tall frame acting as a buffer between her and the people around them. He wasn't even touching her, really, but Rukia can feel the heat of him sinking into her pores, and she heard herself sigh as he pulled away.

"I'll be back, I promise."

It was two and the morning and she was still waiting on that promise.

Her phone had been fully charged for two of those hours, and she'd been pacing the length of her small apartment for about the same time. She had studied, revised and covered an entire wall in course material, telling herself that she wasn't waiting, she was studying.

When there was a knock at her door, she ignored it, instead glancing at her phone.

Rangiku had been checking up on her periodically for hours so when the knock on the door became more insistent, she called out, "I'm busy Rangiku."

"But I brought food."

That wasn't Rangiku.

Throwing open the door, Ichigo filled the frame – a box of pizza in hand and a bluish bruise on his jawline. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, searching his face.

"The line at Donatello's was brutal."

"Don't talk shit, what happened? It's midnight!"

"It's two, actually, but I'm sure you knew that," he said, sliding the box of pizza onto the center table and sliding onto the couch gingerly. "Were you waiting for me?"

"You said you'd text," she defended, before getting right back on the topic at hand because if he thought for one second she would forget –

"I'm part of a gang, I'm sure you know," Ichigo remarked. "This," he gestured, "tends to happen."

"Oh my god," she exhaled. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Bleeding maybe?"

"Nah, I'm starving though." Popping open the box, he added, "I wasn't in the mood to pick out the pineapples this time, hope you don't mind."

Seriously? Was this her life now?

"You give me anxiety," she declared, sitting beside him and resting her head over the back of the couch.

"Were you worried?"

"Don't be a jerk, of course I was."

The ass looked like he was smiling, and she pointed at him. "You better be happy because that pizza is amazing and not because you're taking pleasure in giving me grey hairs."

He raised his free hand in surrender, adding, "I won though." And she sighed, closing her eyes.

They spent a few minutes in silence, Rukia on the cusp of sleep as she heard Ichigo move about her apartment before she felt a considerable weight on her lap. Peeking out between her lashes, she said, "I swear to god, if you put the head of the person you beat on my lap, I will stab you."

"It's my head."

"Knew it felt pretty empty," she noted to his snicker.

"What happened?" she ventured to ask a beat or two later, and he sighed.

"Work, it rarely happens now that things get physical, but my dad had an old score to settle and I wasn't about to let him go alone."

"If you work, why are you studying?"

"Can't run a business without some know-how," he mused, "You would know, wouldn't you?"

She tensed. "You looked me up, Kurosaki?"

"I wouldn't be very smart if I didn't, Kuchiki." To this she was silent, and he added, "Shimizu fits you, in some respects though – clean, pure – bet you never had to do any of the dirty work yourself."

"No," she allowed, exhaling and feeling the tension ease. "I never even knew, not until my parents died and my brother was in charge."

"Both of them?" he asked.

"Yeah, car accident," she recalled, "allegedly."

"Huh," he mused. "My mom was murdered when I was nine on our way home from karate practice so mine was a bit more jarring..."

"It ain't a competition, Kurosaki," she reminded, pinching his nose in retaliation.

He chuckled. "I know." A second later, "I'm sorry about your parents."

"I'm sorry about your mom," she returned.

In unison, they exhaled, and the air was clear. "What happens now?"

"I spoke to your brother."

That was unexpected. "What?"

He shrugged. "Your family is old and traditional as fuck, I figured if you had to date a gang member, the least I could do was be polite about it."

"Who said I wanted to date you?"

"Fine," he declared, and she can practically feel him roll his eyes. "Court you, then."

Making an exaggerated face of disgust, she added, "Ew."

Next thing she knew, he had tugged her down to press his lips against hers, and apparently that was the deal being sealed.

Between their exchange of breaths, he murmured, "You're something, Kuchiki Rukia" and that was better than any declaration of love she could ask for, and it certainly didn't hurt that a second later, he promised, "I'll give you a city" because she was a graduate of a fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls, and spoilt little rich girls loved grand gestures like that.

A/n: Lols, the trash. I'm terrible and I'm not sorry.

This story is also available on wattpad with the same name, but with original characters because, why not?

Thanks for reading!

#bleach #bleach fanfiction #ichiruki #ichiruki college #AU #SHIPPER TRASH #Ichiruki for always #rangiku matsumoto #Nanao Ise #Ichigo Kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #crime families #gangs

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