#I should really stop visiting fandom spaces for my own sanity

[edgepunk]

"wahhh how does Peter afford making all those gadgets??? it's unrealistic"

he's a dumpster diver, he buys stuff from flea markets and he tends to steal tech from his villains to study/improve his gear, and be ffr you can't expect 100% realism from a superhero franchise

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3  2  1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately 

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

:D

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again 

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid 

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling” 

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

jk

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

<<previous // next >>

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[raywritesthings]

Dog’s Best Friend 6/6

My Writing Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Sirius Black, Rubeus Hagrid, Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Peter Pettigrew, Albus Dumbledore Summary: When Rubeus Hagrid is placed in the cell next to notorious murderer Sirius Black, truths are revealed and events are changed. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

Sirius had paced the floor in front of Hagrid’s fireplace so thoroughly by Friday afternoon that he felt surprised he hadn’t worn through the hearth rug to the wooden floor yet. But today was the day, and he couldn’t possibly sit still.

Hagrid had promised him they would get Pettigrew today.

He felt even more out of his own body than usual as his Animagus form. After all these years, he would finally stop the traitor and make him pay for James and Lily’s deaths. It felt in some ways like the end of his life as he knew it, the closing of a chapter.

Sirius wouldn’t have thought there was a chapter after that if not for Harry.

Harry was everything he had thought the boy might grow to be. James’ messy hair and assured confidence, Lily’s eyes and her helpful nature. The one thing he didn’t seem to share was their happiness; Sirius had only seen his godson smile very briefly in exhilaration after Hagrid had helped him down from the Hippogriff’s back.

He hadn’t been able to help himself in following the third year class to their lesson, not when it meant glimpsing the boy for the first time since that Halloween night. He’d made sure to stay well back behind some rocks until he’d noticed the impending disaster involving a young Malfoy — his cousin via Narcissa, he supposed, though his demeanor spoke far more of Lucius. Normally, Sirius wouldn’t have cared what happened to idiots who mouthed off to prideful creatures, but the last thing he wanted or needed was Hagrid getting in trouble. Especially considering all that the man was risking for him. And all that he was helping to arrange.

He looked up, totally alert, as Hagrid went to answer a knock at the door. It had to be time, but then Hagrid’s greeting chilled his heart.

“Remus!”

No, not here, not now when he was so close! If Remus suspected his presence, he would ruin everything and Peter would get away. He couldn’t know that he’d been wrong about the identity of the traitor just as Sirius had been wrong to suspect Remus.

Sirius looked around and squeezed himself under the bed against the far corner of the room, hoping the blankets hanging over the side might further conceal his presence. In the doorway, Hagrid kept prattling on, but Remus had yet to come in. Maybe he didn’t suspect. Maybe he was here for a simple visit by coincidence.

A set of younger voices made themselves heard, Harry’s among them. Sirius’ tail wagged once, though he kept himself low to the ground as he slowly inched out from under the bed on his stomach. He needed to be ready the moment Pettigrew was inside.

A set of shoes and girl’s stockings came through the doorway followed by another pair attached to trousers. Sirius crept around the table, coming into view just as the third boy entered carrying Peter himself.

The door closed with finality. There was no escape now. Sirius bared his teeth, a growl leaving him that Pettigrew no doubt heard. The children turned in alarm as he sprung off the ground straight at the one holding the rat. A scream and two shouts filled the small space.

Peter’s eyes widened as a squeal of sheer terror left him; he tore himself free from his owner’s hold, flying through the air. Sirius extended his jaw and closed his mouth around the wriggling animal, nearly biting down on instinct—

“Don’ kill him! Don’ kill him!” Hagrid ordered sharply. Fang yowled and cowered in the corner.

Peter kept squirming, fighting desperately to get free. As Hagrid reached a hand out, Sirius got ready to give the rat over.

“Let Scabbers go!” The Weasley boy cried out, leaping onto Sirius’ back. He made a muffled yelp at the impact, rearing back to try and shake off his attacker.

Harry was suddenly at his front, reaching toward his jaws and grabbing at the rat’s tail. “Give it here, Grimm!”

He shook his head roughly and was happy to hear Pettigrew cry out.

“Hagrid, Hagrid do something!” The girl begged.

“Harry, Ron, jus’ let me—”

The door banged open and Remus stepped through, his wand leveled straight at Sirius. “No one move.” His eyes seemed to take in the whole scene as he slowly shut the door behind him again, locking it. They landed, at last, on Sirius and the rat in his mouth.

“It’s really you,” he breathed. “Both of you.”

Pettigrew gave another pitiful squeal and tried weakly again to fight his way out. There was spittle leaking out of his jowls, but Sirius just continued to pant through his nose as he stared Remus down.

“What do you mean, Professor Lupin? Who is it?” The girl asked, curious in spite of the clear distress she felt.

“Will you transform?” Remus asked him.

Sirius nodded once.

“But the Dementors,” Hagrid protested.

“I can ward them off. It should take them some time to track him, at any rate.” Remus’ gaze shifted to the rat. “Will you transform?”

Peter made another pitiful noise, clearly attempting to pass himself off as a normal rat.

“They can understand you,” Harry said, his eyes never leaving Sirius.

“Why’s he just holding Scabbers?” The other boy asked. “Why won’t he let him go?”

“He’ll have to in a moment.” Remus flicked his wand, and a jet of blue light hit Pettigrew in the face. Sirius felt the rat start to grow and change and spat him out, backing up and changing back as well for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Another scream left the girl, though it hurt his human ears less.

“But he’s — and what—” the boy — Ron, he thought Hagrid might have said — gaped between him and Peter as the rat had disappeared and was now replaced with a man.

Harry, Sirius noted with pride, had drawn his own wand but seemed unsure where to point it.

When the blue light faded and Peter Pettigrew at last stood before them, he stood wringing his hands and cringing away from Remus, Hagrid and Sirius’ hard stares. In rumpled clothes with clear drool stains, he looked a sorry sight, as pathetic on the outside now as his character warranted.

“Remus, my friend. Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”

“I’m not sure if you’ve been saved or not, Peter. That depends on what you’ve done since your widely-reported death.”

“But if he was Ron’s rat,” the girl began, looking awfully pale. “Then he was an Animagus. And the dog…” She gazed at Sirius with fear.

“Yes, I’m one as well. It’s how I escaped,” he admitted freely.

“But then why go after him?” Harry asked, gesturing at Peter. “They said you’d come after me.”

“They’re right about that,” Peter said quickly. “The things he did, Lily and James—”

“That’s the last time you say their names,” Sirius snarled, taking a step towards him. Pettigrew shrunk in on himself. Only Remus’ wand still trained on them both kept him from moving any further. He worked to calm himself before turning to his godson. “I did break out to get to you, Harry. But not to hurt you. I was the only one who knew what danger you were in.”

“Not the only,” Remus countered. “When did Sirius approach you, Hagrid?”

“In Azkaban,” the half-giant admitted. “They put me in the cell next ter his, an’ he helped me. The Dementors, they were drivin’ me mad, the things I was seein’.” He shuddered. “But Sirius told me his secret. That if yeh were innocent, it was something ter hang on with an’ keep yer sanity.”

“Innocent?” Ron echoed. “But he’s You-Know-Who’s right-hand man!”

“Never,” Sirius said. “And this worthless worm wasn’t either. He was just a spy.”

“The true spy,” Remus agreed quietly. “But how did he betray them, Sirius?”

He looked down. “It was my fault.”

“Did you hear him, Remus?” Peter cried again, his voice rising with panic. “He admits it’s still his fault!”

“Only because I was too stupid to trust you, and it led James and Lily to their deaths,” Sirius snapped.

“You don’t mean — my parents?” Harry stepped forward, his wand now decidedly pointed at Pettigrew. “What have they got to do with it?”

“Everything. They were our friends. All of us. And when they went into hiding with you, they asked us to keep them safe.”

“How?”

“The Fidelius Charm,” Remus stated, and Sirius could picture him at the front of his new classroom now. “An old magic meant to guard a secret. A location or residence, oftentimes. It requires the knowledge to be placed with a Secret Keeper. Only they can divulge the secret.”

“James wanted it to be me. I was his best friend, we were closer than brothers,” Sirius said, his voice growing gruff as he stared into Harry’s widened eyes. “But I thought it was too obvious, that Voldemort would realize and torture it out of me.”

Of the children, Harry was the only one who did not jump or react with fear. Even Hagrid winced, and Peter cringed away.

He bared his teeth in a savage grin. “What’s wrong, Peter? Afraid to hear your master’s name? Or feeling guilt remembering that the minute I convinced Lily and James to make the switch, you ran off to tell him?”

“I didn’t — he forced me, Sirius, I swear! You don’t know the weapons the Dark Lord had, you don’t understand—”

“That’s enough,” Remus said coldly. “Whatever reason you had for betraying them, you chose to frame Sirius and to kill those Muggles. You’re guilty, Peter. And you can’t hide from it any longer. Stupefy!”

Pettigrew dropped to the floor like a stone. Remus followed it up by magically creating binds that wrapped around him hand and foot. “Hagrid, we’ll need Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“O’ course.” Hagrid turned to the children. “Yeh three alrigh’?”

The girl nodded, though she still seemed very frightened. The boy named Ron seemed far more likely to be sick as he stared at Pettigrew’s prone form, and Sirius certainly wouldn’t blame him if he was. Harry kept switching his gaze from Sirius to Pettigrew, but he nodded stiffly as well. Hagrid cast another glance around the cabin before hurriedly leaving, and his footfalls faded away. The room was left in silence.

“I hope you can forgive me Remus, for thinking you were the traitor,” Sirius said quietly. It was one of many regrets he had held the many years in Azkaban.

“Only if you can forgive me for thinking the same of you,” Remus replied. He strode across the room, and they embraced as brothers.

“But Mr. Black,” the girl said, and Sirius was so startled that he broke away from Remus to gawk at her. “If you were innocent this whole time, why didn’t you say anything at your trial?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell anyone their pets might be people?” Ron demanded shakily.

“I might have had the chance if I’d had a trial,” Sirius replied. “But I didn’t know where Pettigrew had been until I saw his picture in the Daily Prophet the Minister lent me on his visit.”

“Ah, so that’s what motivated you,” Remus said. “And when you broke out, Hagrid was able to secret you to Hogwarts as his own pet.”

Sirius shrugged. “It was his own suggestion, before we even knew about Pettigrew still being out there. He thought here at least I could see…” he trailed off as his gaze went to Harry.

“Me? Why would you want to see me? It was my parents you were friends with,” the boy pointed out, and the matter-of-fact way he seemed to convey he should hardly matter to Sirius tore at something within him.

“Yes, I was. But more than that, Harry. When you were born, they named me your godfather.” He walked around the table slowly, stopping just a few feet away. “I didn’t get to see you much as a baby. They had to take you into hiding, but… the idea was that, should anything happen to them, that I would take care of you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do that.”

He glanced up through the hair in his face, surprised to see Harry swallow down something like a lump in his throat. “I was supposed to live with you? Not the Dursleys?”

“That’s what we arranged. Of course, if Dumbledore clears all this up, I wouldn’t want to disturb you and your family.” All the time that Hagrid had talked to him about Harry, he hadn’t let himself believe he might have this chance to speak with him, to become a part of his life. “But once I’ve found myself a place, you’d be welcome there.”

“I could live with you?” Harry repeated, and it occurred to Sirius that he wasn’t upset by the idea so much as it not being a reality. He wished he didn’t recognize the desperate hope in the boy’s eyes, an echo of his own at sixteen, when he’d ran away to the Potters’ house.

“If you wanted,” he answered, and he hoped it was as gentle and warm as the Potters’ offer had been. A chill went through him, and he shuddered. “Remus.”

“They might be coming. Hermione, watch Peter,” Remus instructed, slipping out the door of Hagrid’s Hut.

“Who’s coming? The Dementors?” Ron looked about to panic, but it was Harry he looked at rather than Sirius. “Harry, you’ve got to get out of here!”

“I’m not leaving either of them,” Harry argued, though he had gone very pale.

Sirius slowly sank down to the floor, holding his head between his hands. He couldn’t go back there, he couldn’t survive it. Couldn’t lose the happy feeling that had only just started to grow in his heart while speaking to his godson.

There was a mournful howl from Fang, and in his foggy vision he watched Harry fall into a chair, his friend Ron shaking his shoulder.

“Expecto Patronum!” A voice commanded, though it wasn’t Remus’. Moments later, Albus Dumbledore swept into the Hut.

“I see it is as Hagrid has said.” Another set of binds were conjured around Pettigrew, who was then levitated off the floor. “Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, if you would please escort Mr. Potter and Black to the Hospital Wing. Professor Lupin and I shall see Mr. Pettigrew safely turned over to the authorities.”

Ron hauled Harry up to his feet and started moving him towards the door.

“Er, come on, boy,” Hermione encouraged as she turned to him. It was only then that Sirius realized he had changed back into his Animagus form. Likely for the best if they were going to enter the school. He rose on shaky legs and followed the children out of the Hut.

“This is mental!” He heard Ron exclaim in a hushed whisper. “I can’t believe Scabbers was a person this whole time. I let him sleep in my bed!”

“I just can’t believe Hagrid managed to keep a secret this huge,” Hermione whispered back. “Or that Harry has a godfather.”

Harry continued to shuffle along between them, his hands hanging limply at his sides. Sirius picked his paws up a little faster so that he could nuzzle the one. Harry stirred slightly, patting Sirius’ snout. His fingers reached back to tangle in Sirius’ fur, forcing Hermione slightly to the side as Sirius came up to walk with him to the Hospital Wing.

It was over. Peter was caught and Harry was safe. He was free. Hagrid’s plan had actually worked.

He had a feeling he wouldn’t believe it until he’d recovered from the Dementor’s effects. So Sirius hopped up onto the end of the bed Harry was shown to and felt himself drift off to sleep.

---

It took far more convincing than Rubeus would have liked, but the Minister eventually let Professor Dumbledore have his way about questioning Pettigrew in front of the Wizengamot. Rubeus was asked to attend as a witness.

“Please tell the court exactly what led you to the discovery of Mr. Pettigrew’s continued existence among the living?” The Headmaster asked him kindly.

Rubeus did his best not to notice all the other witches and wizards watching him and just focused on his story. “Well, when I was sent ter Azkaban las’ spring — on false charges, mind yeh — I was placed in the cell next to Sirius. I wasn’ very happy abou’ that at the start, but then he helped me.”

“Helped you how?”

“He showed me how focusin’ on being innocent instead o’ happy things helped the Dementors from affectin’ me so much. When I asked him how a criminal like him could know that, he told me his story.”

“And you believed him?”

“Every word. The other inmates believe him, too. They sit there day and night cursin’ that Pettigrew’s name fer givin’ You-Know-Who the information what led to his downfall.”

Professor Dumbledore didn’t ask him any further questions, which Rubeus was grateful for. He’d rather not get into just how long he’d been aware of Sirius’ whereabouts after his escape and all that.

They brought Pettigrew out for questioning, but rather than focus on the pitiful man, Rubeus watched the members of the Wizengamot. He thought he could see their expressions shifting, though from what to what he couldn’t say. He only hoped it meant good things for Sirius.

“Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot,” Professor Dumbledore spoke as Pettigrew was dragged away, “it seems clear that a grave miscarriage of justice was done. I move that the charges against Sirius Black be dropped and that he be declared a free man.”

The assembled members put it to vote, and Rubeus nervously counted. When he passed the halfway mark, a great breath left him. All told, it was something like two-thirds!

“Hem-hem,” one of the dissenters coughed. “I wonder, Supreme Mugwump, will we be putting the matter of Black’s illegal Animagus status to a vote? After all, he did break the law.”

Rubeus gaped at the tiny witch. She couldn’t be serious!

Madam Bones from the DMLE spoke before Professor Dumbledore needed to. “Black’s more than served the time for such an offense. Given his status as a minor when he achieved the transformation — impressive at that — that’s even more true. I’d rather we vote on a measure to check all the current inmates of Azkaban for such abilities.”

There were general murmurings of assent from the other members, and the matter was scheduled for the next meeting. Rubeus left the visitor’s bench to meet Professor Dumbledore.

“Hagrid, you were marvelous,” the Headmaster told him. He felt like blushing.

“I only told the truth.”

“Yes, and I can only be glad the truth has come out at last. You did a very good thing for Sirius.”

He’d worried how the Headmaster might feel about his keeping secrets and all, but it seemed he understood. That lifted a weight right off his shoulders.

Sirius had been transferred to St. Mungo’s by the time Rubeus got back to the castle with Professor Dumbledore, though Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting eagerly at his cabin to hear all the details.

“He’s completely cleared,” Rubeus told him. “They reckon seein’ as he spent so long in Azkaban there’s no need to penalize him for the illegal Animagus bit. He’ll jus’ be registered now.”

“How long will he be in St. Mungo’s?” Harry wanted to know.

“No way to tell. He’s a sharp one when he needs ter be, but Azkaban isn’ a place to stick around long. He’s healthier now o’ course, but it’s his head they’ll be hopin’ ter heal.”

Harry accepted this answer, and he seemed even happier when Rubeus offered to go through the album he’d gifted Harry and point out the few instances of Sirius in the photos. He sent out another round of owls to the old crowd, seeing if anyone might have hung onto anything else with him in it, seeing as they’d all thought Sirius a criminal the first time he’d asked for pictures.

Another wealth of information for Harry was Remus, who had gotten over what had been holding him back before and now seemed happy to share all the stories he could remember with the boy. Rubeus supposed it helped now that the man didn’t feel the need to edit Sirius out of them; he’d always been right in the middle of things with James, after all, and Pettigrew was far easier to ignore.

The Dementors had been removed from around the school, which left everyone eager to head down to Hogsmeade village for the first weekend of the year. Including Harry, who’d received a signed permission slip from Sirius in the mail the morning of. Rubeus had managed to find a fresh copy on a visit to the staff room and sent it along earlier in the month along with his usual letter.

Christmas holiday came, and Rubeus was proud to be part of the escort that took Harry to visit his godfather in his private room. Remus came along as well, seeing as they’d timed it after his most recent recovery from the full moon.

“I had to send an owl order, so I haven’t gotten a look at it, yet,” Sirius told Harry as he passed a long, thin package his way. “I hear you’ve got a pretty good one already, but James always thought it was a good idea to have one for practices and matches and one for the offseason. You can decide which is which.”

Rubeus couldn’t hold in a chuckle as Harry’s eyes went wide as dinner plates upon unwrapping the broom that sat inside. “This is a Firebolt! I can’t believe — you really didn’t have to.”

“I’ve more money in my vault than I know what to do with and twelve years of presents to make up for,” Sirius reminded him. “There’s loads of things I want to pass down, too, but I’ve no idea where my possessions ended up.”

“I think some were sent in a box to your mother,” Remus told him.

Sirius grimaced. “Probably burned them, then. That’s another thing I wanted to talk about.” He sat up a little straighter. Rubeus was glad to see there was an awareness and light in Sirius’ eyes that had been somewhat lacking those first months after his escape. “I’ll need somewhere to live once they let me out of here. It’s a little difficult searching from a hospital ward.”

“I can stop by Diagon Alley fer the catalogues.” They kept up a list of available houses that didn’t have all the outlets and other things Muggles filled their houses with.

“Something out in the country,” Sirius was saying.

“You could have a pitch like the Weasleys have got,” Harry told him, and Sirius smiled wide at the idea.

There was a sudden pop, and a witch suddenly materialized and slid down the far wall by the door to crash on the floor. She gave a frantic shake of the head. “What?”

Remus got his wand out and Sirius yanked Harry around to the other side of the bed as Rubeus moved forward. “Skeeter?” He rumbled. “How’d yeh get in here?”

The Daily Prophet’s rising star looked just as perplexed to be talking to Rubeus as he was to be talking to her. “Well I- I certainly didn’t mean—”

Remus strode past him to call out into the corridor. “Healer? We need security.”

It turned out Rita Skeeter had fallen victim to the Anti-Animagus Charms they had put up around Sirius’ room. The Healers wanted him to stay in his own human mind as much as possible for the time being rather than retreating into the dog’s form. Skeeter’s hopes to get a scoop in her own undisclosed beetle form proved her downfall.

The spring term came and went. Harry took the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory with a far and away lead on his Firebolt, and just after Easter Sirius wrote to say he had closed the sale on a house.

This meant that most of Harry’s summer was looking up. However, Professor Dumbledore insisted that Harry go back to the Dursleys for the couple weeks that it would take Sirius to finish furnishing his new house and setting up protections, some of which were provided courtesy of old Mad-Eye Moody. None of them were all that pleased at Harry’s return to Privet Drive, but Rubeus reminded his young friend to just let his relatives know his convicted godfather had been released and was keeping in touch; he didn’t have to say he’d been released because he was innocent.

On the  31st of July that summer, Rubeus headed down into the country for a day with some homemade fudge and a motorbike for a gathering of godson, godfather, old friends and a family of redheads. “It’s Harry’s birthday, but I realized I had somethin’ o’ yours as well, Sirius,” he explained in greeting.

Sirius barked a laugh and pulled Rubeus into a hug. He lifted his friend off his feet and hugged him back.

[headoverjojo]

Dear Tricia💚 may I ask about your thought/theory about Doppio/Diavolo’s origin? I just.... cannot still make any sense of it (not like it should, with this all being JoJo). So his mother didn’t have sex for 2 years but then ~magically~ was on labour? then the kid was a creepo? and then, after at least 15 years, the mother is suddenly under the church tiled floor?? plis help me i look like the algebra lady meme

Hiiiiiii darling! :3 oooooooooooh, this is such a good question, A H, I love iittttt *.* and FEEL YA?? Like yeah Doppio/Diavolo has to have a mysterious and inexplicable backstory, but HM?? *big squint* SO! Let’s pour here the various theories I have about this fact 👀 hoping not to blurt just uncoherent babblers!

So, about the “two years of pregnancy”... I know that a lot of people in the fandom theorize that this happened because the baby had “two souls”, so the pregnancy had been longer because of this. I frankly find it fascinating, but dunno. It doesn’t convince me 100%. And so I thought about something more “plausible” (even if plausible things sound even weirder in the jojoverse) and this is my thought about how Doppio’s mom got pregnant and gave birth to her son while she was in jail: I don’t think and it doesn’t seem that Doppio’s mom was in isolation, so she could receive visits. She could have had a boyfriend before being thown in jail and maybe this boyfiend came to see her? And, with the complicity of a guard -a corrupted police member wouldn’t be anything new, all in all-, well... things happened and Doppio was conceived. But how explain the fact that she didn’t know about being pregnant? Searching around, there are various cases of women that, sometimes, didn’t know to be pregnant even just before the delivery. Symptoms usually associated to pregnancy, such as sore back and bones, nausea, headache, general irritability could not manifest and sometimes even period doesn’t “stop” completely. So, she may not have got “typical” pregnancy syptoms and, with the fact that pregnancy belly may not show, she may have gone on her merry way to the delivery without knowing to be pregnant. Of course she couldn’t say “oh y’annow, I had a quickie with my boyfriend while your colleague X watched around”, so she had to lie and apparently reveal a sort of “miraculous” pregnancy? Not that the other guards asked a lot about it, in any case. The baby must be sent away as fast as possible.

So, here we come to the second point: Doppio’s mother under the church floor. So so, I usually hc Doppio as the main personality and, for long time, as the only personality. I think that Diavolo personality developed slowly during Doppio’s childhood. Doppio grew up in a small village where turists didn’t come -it’s common in Sardinia, there are tons of very small villages, my dad’s village is really small too- and, in so small villages, prejudices and, even more, gossips run faster than wind. So I’d not be surprised that, even if the priest tried to keep Doppio’s mother’s identity as a secret, his real identity as son of a prisoner spread like a wild fire in a matter of days. And so, prejudices: no one wanted his son or daughter to play or stay near to the son of an inmate. ‘Cause he could have inherited his mother’s “evilness”, ‘cause he was already marked. And so, always in my opinion, Doppio grew up alone. He only had this “imaginary friend” that called him on the phone, but the priest never worried about it, ‘cause it was a game, ‘cause Doppio was just a child -and even if the priest tried to stay with him as much as possible, nothing could replace other children’s company- and he was alone and wanted to play, so he had invented that phone game and his imaginary friend. Yes, the fact that this friend was, apparently, called “Diavolo” concerned a bit the priest, but not to the point to take him to a therapist. It was an innocent game, all in all. What could go wrong?

And so Diavolo personality grew and grew inside Doppio, slowly occuping more and more space in his mind. It became something fundamental for his sanity, it became his... everything. And both Doppio and his best friend Diavolo always blamed Doppio’s mother for everything bad it had happened to them. Their loneliness, their invisible shame mark, the bullies that made their life impossible... it was all her fault.

And now I personally think that let’s say arount Doppio’s 15-16th birthday, his mother finished her period in prison and got out. The first thing she did was to search for her son, as she knew that he had been sent to Sardinia, her homeland. She found him right in her village of origin; she wanted to apologize, or at least to explain, but her son wasn’t on the same line as her. Here there was the reason why his life had always been so miserable. Here, in front of him, there was the reason of all his sufference. His past always marked him, making him an outsider: it had to be erased. And how to do it? Making her disappear. I think that THIS is the point when Diavolo personality became so powerful, finally overcoming Doppio and taking possession of his body. He made his own mother disappear, hiding her under the floor, but never finding the courage to actually kill her, as there was still something, call it a sparkle of humanity, a sparkle of affection for the woman who gave him life, that always blocked him from killing her. All in all, he was safe: his past was now hidden and no one would have ever seen her again or found about her. But then the priest found out about her, he literally exhumed his protege’s past: this was something neither Doppio or Diavolo could accept. The priest had seen his mother, the living proof of his past: he had to die. And with him everyone who knew that he was the son of a prisoner had to die. If everyone died, he would not have been marked anymore. He would have been free, free from his past, free from prejudices and sufference and loneliness. If no one knew who he was, he could have been who he wanted, with no limits, with no one here to put him down by calling him evil just ‘cause he was the son of his mother. His past was what always prevented him to get a normal life, so it had to disappear, with every single one who knew about it. Now he wasn’t the son of a prisoner, he wasn’t a bullied kid, he wasn’t the lonely child who talked on an imaginary phone: he was the boss of the most powerful criminal organization of all Italy, he reached the highes peaks and he became what he wanted to be, building for himself a new identity, a new life, and nothing, not even his own child, could ruin it.

This is how also I explain his paranoid behaviour towards his past! And boiiii it came out looooong... I hope it doesn’t sound too ramblish and there’s something that makes sense!!

[amwritingmeta]

JiB10

So, last year, for various reasons, I didn’t actually put down my experience of JiB, but are y’all ready to hear all about this year’s experiences and adventures? 

Well, in condensed form. I mean, what is this - LiveJournal? (okay yeah kinda is but no not going into excruciating detail here just the best bits) (the choice cuts, as it were) (watch me go full butcher) (it’ll be entertaining I swear) :P

So, firstly, I’m a panel rat. I fucking love those panels. All the panels. It’s mainly why I get the Angel Pass, because the seats are so good and I’m all about them good seats, yeah? 

I have friends who spend a whole lot of time in line for ops or for autos and I just… can’t… do that. Not when there’s talking happening and answering of questions and just that room being MAGIC, because the entire con feels so inclusive and filled with open-minded like-minded human beings who share in our love of this glorious show.

I started a JiB Log, but figured I’d get too distracted to actually update it regularly, because that’s what last year was like. When you’re not in a panel you’re either walking to grab something quick to eat (have to commend the little smoothie place at the airport, because they did good sandwiches and really good coffee at a reasonable price) or you’re heading to the hotel bar to get absolutely plast-… No, actually didn’t do that this year, so correction: or you’re heading to the hotel bar to see who’s there and catch up with people who have been to their ops and are still shaking with excitement. 

(you can also comment on the wonderful imagination of strangers in the ladies’ room when you see them shaking with excitement and are dressed up in bridal gowns) (okay there was one lovely dressed up as a bride so maybe plural is the wrong way to go but the sentiment holds true) (JiBers - you are so fucking awesome and I LOVE YOU ALL)

Okay, so wanna know the most basic things I’ve learned about how to JiB? I mean… if you don’t, then stop reading, I guess, because imma tell ya. #fairwarning

Bring Snacks (you won’t regret it) 

Bring Alcohol (you won’t regret it)

Good Footwear (you won’t regret it)

Clothes For Every Occasion (you may regret it if you overpack) (don’t overpack) (Google “packing tutorial by Jensen Ackles”) (worth it)

Choose Wisely (just general solid advice) (I mean, get your priorities straight) (panel rat or up close and personal kitty cat) (or both) (sidenote: I take it choosing to be both is quite stressful) (make sure that your stress sensors are up and that you don’t overdo it) (switching between rat and cat is bound to be internally messy) (okay that actually came out as not haha solid but actual solid advice so yeah) (be prepared that doing both is difficult!) (and having lots of ops and wanting to do all autos means probably missing a whole lot of panels for standing in line and waiting) (even the solo panels with the main players or - and I will question your sanity - the joint panels that close the weekend) (well not the very final panel) (nobody missed the J2M panel because all ops and autos had closed by then) (but yes prioritise wisely)

Be Open (because, no matter what, you are bound to meet someone you click with at this event) (most people) (actually every stranger I gave a throwaway comment to) (were so chill and happy to have a brief chat or share a moment with me) (so even if you’re traveling by yourself you are bound to feel embraced) *jazz hands rome magic*

Pinches of Salt (take everything you see and hear with healthy pinches of salt) (I briefly forgot about this on Monday morning and oh boy I could’ve saved myself a world of stupidity if I’d only remembered it yeah?)

MNC (get your sweet ass to the Monday Night Concert because both my years of JiBing it has been mind-blowing) (this year was better than last year honestly) (which I did not think could happen) (they are the bee’s bees and the bear’s bear) *throws all the love at them*

When it comes to impressions and memories made this particular trip, I feel like the whole week has been one long run of blessings. Sincerely, it’s been - oh what’s the word again? --> MAGIC. 

I’m not going to go through all the boring personal moments of Holy Fuck *jazz hands rome magic* but I will just say that I think I stepped out of passport control with the widest smile, and it barely left my face for the entire weekend. The panels were wonderful this year. I’m still on a high. No, seriously. It’s almost a week later and I haven’t been hit by the JiB blues yet, and perhaps I won’t this year.

*prays I land a pass for next year* *GAH* *the nail-biting begins*

Confession time? (…when in Rome)

Confession 1 — I have such a crush on Rob. I mean, I’ve had it for years, but time to make it official, I guess. He just seems like the sweetest, loveliest human being and watching him sing is like… watching the stars light in the sky. He is such an amazing singer and performer. He made me cry. He sang Fare Thee Well and he made me cry at the Monday Night Concert. 

*no I was NOT drunk* *though damn that G&T was strong* *oh btw the drinks in Rome are amazing and worth the money because extra alcoholic* *like damnnnnn* *just as an aside* *but also bring your own bourboun* *winks at @waywardliliana* *sup gurl?* *winks again* *winks some more* *can’t stop now* *licks lips* *yeah I know* *uncomfortable?* *licks lipssss againnnnn* *okay stopping now* *….or am I…….?*

:P

Confession 2 — The panel-watching truly is a huge amount of fun. This year there were a lot of things said that made me want to jump up and down in my seat, because it gives me a lot of hope for season fifteen and Jensen provided most of it on the Saturday, and then Jared was pretty much agreeing with Jensen’s assessments of how the brothers’ journeys should end on the Sunday, and I was like GAH! *happy* And then Misha throws in his belief that there needs to be a sacrifice and tragedy and we all went NO! Also his fear that this family of ours will disperse and we all went NOOO! :) Anyway, these are all stated observations, but the confession is this:

As much as I love spending time in a space that is occupied by some of my favourite human beings on this planet (oh but they are), what makes JiB so truly, deeply, personally special is meeting up with friends who otherwise live too far away to see on the regular. All of us convening in this one place to share in this one great love is like electricity through your veins. It’s like… well, it’s like going to a place of worship, and I think you know what I mean. When you’re in a room with a group of peope who’s energy jives with yours, then your energies align, and resonate, and then — MAGIC.

It’s magical. It’s fucking magical. *jazz hands*

Shoutout to everyone I managed to see this year who have not yet been lip-licked at in this post (or real life), whether it was much too brief (so many of you were much too brief) or whether we spent quality time, seeing you all really made the trip sparkle: 

@captainhaterade - who made such a fantastic and impromptu seat mate - thank you, Emily, for having me next to you for most of the weekend! :D 

@eriquin - Meghan, it was so lovely to meet you and I’m thrilled you and Emily both enjoyed your first con, very happy I got to be a part of it! :)

@trickster-angel - my dear Chiara, it took us a few tries, but we finally got to sit down in the Corner (if you get to go next year then I think this may be where we’re all just convene from now on) (*suggestion*) *nobody puts us in a corner except us!* :P So good to meet you!

@inacatastrophicmind - Mara! We met much, much too briefly, but I’m so, so glad we did! See you around tumblr, my friend, and hopefully at JiB11! :)

@misskittyspuffy - aw man, Aurelie, we kept missing each other and I really wanted to sit down and have a proper lunch or dinner, but at least you and--

@assbuttboyfriends - hey, Claire, my dear, at least you and Aurelie aren’t that far away, right? Come visit me in London, I tell ya! :D Otherwise, proper plan-making for next year. xx

@bold-sartorial-statement - a brief hello was still a good hello! Hope you enjoyed the con! xx

@jenmdixon - it was good to say hello to you, my dear, and really hope you enjoyed the con (and didn’t die under those lights because it got HOT) (no wonder the actors are fan-addicts) :) xx

@purgatory-jar - Elena, it was, as ever, fantastic to see you and I’m stoked I got to have a proper lunch with you this time around. You have always been and will always be one of my absolute favourite artists in this fandom and, by extension, anywhere. Already a star, girl!

Shoutout to @northern-sparrow - I was sorry that I missed you at the bar, but there’s always next year. Hope you enjoyed the con and thanks for asking The Perfect Question. :D xx

Finally, @godshipsit​ -- Alessia, my friend, you are this calm, welcoming, very dear part of Rome and JiB for me (last year you supported me so much just by being there) and you are simply brilliant! *all the prettiest flowers at your door*

And to my two felines who are tumblring, but not very often: Laura and Steph, you wonderfuls! Thanks for all the laughs!!

*I now proceed to throw love at you all*

Confession 3 — I have a Favourite Moose. Nope, it’s not who you think it is. (girl, I almost put the hashtag on here but in the current climate) (I think I’d just better not) (especially since I wanna tag you) (hey, Moose!) (hey @natmoose!) (yes you!) (Nat-Blue!) :) #theconversationalists 

Now, the highlights from this years con are too numerous for me to write them all down, really, but here’s a taster:

Ricky Whittle (the man is a genius comedian)

Rob talking about how his fandom experience has changed since he, for the first time, is seeing comments like “I hate your face” (the way he says “I hate your face”) (*giggle*) (also it’s such a question of tone because most of those “I hate your face”s are probably said with loads of love) (because Chuck going ultimate big bad toxic masculinity representative is fucking BRILLIANT) *love to hate his face* 

Matt telling the airplane story

Alex reenacting different parts of the airplane story

Alex choosing Jasmine from Aladdin to put a spin on and making the twist that he’ll rob the wishes from Aladdin like -->

Alex: *sings* I can show you the world *interrupts* I’m just like yo, just give me these wishes. Don’t mess with me. How about this? I’ll show myself the world, okay?

I really, really very much like Alexander Calvert, okay?

Briana being distracted by herself on the stage monitor (she’s gorgeous and she knows it and is also open about how it costs her a lot of money and time and effort and how that’s not for everyone and real beauty runs so much deeper) (which is why she is the most gorgeous woman)

Jared telling us all to shut up during his Sunday morning solo panel (and basically all of his time on stage, but especially this half an hour of stage time, because my GOD he was in such a good mood)

Misha

Jensen going off on a minor rant about Game of Thrones S08E05 because yesssss

Jared doing that jump-and-a-skip at his panel with Misha

Jared’s panel with Misha

Jensen telling Misha he loves him and them hugging, only for Jensen to turn it into a joke and pretty effectively demonstrating how this is how they interact and they don’t mean anything by taking the piss out of each other because yesssss

sincerely, all the solo panels (especially Jensen’s, because he’s so sincere and open and honest about how seriously he takes his work and it’s gorgeous and inspiring and always has been and always will be and)

I mean, Jensen lying flat on his back on that stage and Misha saying You Sexy Bitch is very, very, very… overt. I side-eye. But with a whole lot of appreciation for the balls on those two. I’d venture that they know exactly what they’re doing, and I’ll forever wonder what the percentage is between performative and spur-of-the-moment. Sometimes I think you can tell, but… oh, they know what we like. Usually. :)

Jared bringing the dirty. I just love his filthy mind.

All of their filthy minds tbh. 

Singing Carry On My Wayward Son in the hallway after the final panel is just… one of the best parts, and this year they all came out and high fived and gave hugs and… it was special 

The Monday Night Concert surpassed last year’s and went on for nearly two hours and was deeply moving for many reasons and I wish to the good Heavens (…okay you know what I mean) that Jensen and Briana will record Shallow because I think their version beat the original (damn Briana’s voice is just… damn!) (and I can’t talk about Jensen singing please don’t make me talk about it) (…) (thank you)

Also Richard Speight Jr because Richard Speight Jr!!

Also just Jason Manns because Jason Manns!!

And The Four Cheese!!

See, there’s just tOO MuCH STuFF

<3

And now it’s over and I’m still hopped up on the adrenaline and the happiness and Jensen talking about spreading happiness (I believe it was either during the opening panel with he and Jared on the Saturday or his solo panel later that afternoon) made me feel light as a feather, because he’s right. A healthy dose of real happiness builds you up from the inside out and makes you believe you’re worth it. All of it, yeah? And that, whatever comes your way, you can handle it. Oh, it can be a struggle, but if you only dare to be open, then good things, my peeps. 

Good things do happen.

I hope to see you next year!!

[youcantkillamutant]

The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 4, The Discovery

Part 1: The Collision–––Part 2: The Enlightenment–––Part 3: The Exploration

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death, cursing

Words: 11.5K+

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening To: Ride by Lana Del Rey, Ridin’ by Lana Del Rey & A$AP Rocky, Nuit de baise II by YELLE, Barton Hollow by the Civil Wars, Bones by MSMR, Promises by India Arie and Godspeed by Frank Ocean

Part 4: The Discovery

—l—

Of all the languages the moon has mastered, magic is her favorite. Spells and enchantments slip from her lips like an endless waterfall and trickle down into every world she visits in her trips through the starry sky. Her power falls into the hands of the good hearted and strong willed, leaving them with a key to worlds otherwise unknown.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 20, 2040

5:06AM

Grooved rubber resting on the hard packed dirt. Golden pipes hugging the pitch black sides. Short handles cased in black, gleaming with reflective glass. A glittering silver grill beneath the engine. One piercing headlight, and the name Killmonger etched above the seat like a promise. This is the bike Harley had dreams about. Sleek like a silver bullet, so loud she could feel it reverberating in her bones, this bike is the first and only thing Harley had ever coveted.

Killmonger sat on the beast, sliding on black leather gloves and taping his foot on the dusty ground. Void black leather groaned beneath him as he shifted. Harley had finally emerged from the club, having spent the past few days preparing with Shuri. She hadn’t stepped foot into the Golden Fang, not without Ayana, and certainly not with the Golden Jags looking at her like that. They stared like she was already a lost cause, destined to be cannon fodder for Killmonger.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’m early.” The pair had agreed to leave at 5:30AM, but Killmonger had been waiting since 5. He wanted his daughter back. No matter how early he had to drag his ass out of bed.

“Whatever witch, let’s get going.” For Harley, it was too early for Killmonger’s shit. She’d tolerated his forked tongue for too long.

“Okay first off, watch your fucking tone Monger. Second, if you want my help you need to call my by my actual name. Not ‘witch’ or whatever else you come up with.”

“Fine.” Harley quirked her eyebrow. That was too easy. She needed more, and Killmonger knew it.

“Fine Harley.” Killmonger resisted the urge to savor the name as he said it. This witch was nothing more than a babysitter. She’d never be anything more to him. She shouldn’t be anything more.

“Great.” After a curt nod, Harley shoulder her bag and approached the bike. It was even more beautiful this close. She could smell the engine oil and longed to feel the bike purr. Killmonger pulled a smirk as she swung her leg over the bike seat and grabbed onto him, resting as little of her body as she could against his back. With a tap to his stomach to tell him she was situated, Killmonger really smiled as he started the bike with a roar.

The duo made it onto the open road in a cloud of dust, both of them reveling in the sound of the engine. There was something about riding west, the wind whipping around them, the sun beaming on their backs that made the both of them feel…whole. Not in a way that family or relationships bring, in the way that solitude could promise anything but loneliness. For a moment, Harley and Killmonger breathed as one. After all they both wanted the same thing. To find Ayana. And maybe a bit more. But for the first part, they drove west, past the mountain range and into the Cactacae Forest.

Juvian Sparrows survived on the liquid they could pull from the cactus and the few flowers the cacti bothered to grow. The cacti in this forest were known to bloom under the light of the moon, and anyone knew that a spirit touched by the moon could do amazing things.

The two barreled up the only road in the copse of towering cacti, saguaro’s on one side, and prickly pears blooming on the other. Killmonger took in the pointed orbs behind reflective shades, and Harley thought they reminded her of something, or someone. Monger rolled to a stop as the road fell to the overgrowth of a wildly growing barbary fig. A few small hedgehog cacti sat below it, small and plump with their bright white flowers.

“Look’s like we’ll have to walk the rest.”

“And where exactly is the rest wi––” Killmonger caught himself and shook the word out of his head. “Harley. Where is the rest Harley?”

“According to my research, about 5 miles in.” Harley’s research hadn’t been entirely scholarly. She remembered some of the legends of the Juvian Sparrow, and followed their trail. Apparently, the bird liked to rest on the highest spike of the largest golden barrel cactus in the forest.

“We’d better get going. We only have until noon.”

“Noon?” Harley only nodded, already having brushed past Killmonger to tread deeper into the forest. The time constraint was something she tried to ignore, Finding the sparrow would be hard enough, she didn’t need the added pressure of watching the clock. Besides, they had almost a week until the full moon. They’d be fine.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 21, 2040

1:23AM

Hazel had never met a witch. Especially not one so small. Bug was tiny. Teeny tiny if she was being descriptive. Point is, the baby girl didn’t look like any witch she’d ever seen on tv and movies. She was a kid. A kid that could apparently bring her through a faery ring into another world. Though that information didn’t matter much now, all Hazel needed to know was how to get back.

“You can send her through the faery ring first. She’ll be fine.” The Queen Mother said this so nonchalantly that Hazel almost believed her. The question tripped out of her mouth anyways.

“How will she know what to do? She’s an infant.”

“She did find her way into another world. Seems to me like she’s a natural.” Shuri said this with a grin and a shrug, tickling Bug with lightening fast fingers. She giggled so much Hazel thought she might shift her skin right in her arms. Ramonda sighed before answering with an annoyed sort of gravitas.

“She’s a witch. This will come naturally to her. It’ll be as easy as breathing.” Fixing her gaze on Hazel, her lips pulled tight. “You are the one who should be worried. Humans don’t usually make it out of faery rings whole.” That statement was enough to stutter Hazel’s thoughts.

“Um, what?”

“They usually lose their minds. Or their limbs. Or both.” A shrug from the Queen Mother.

“Oh. Great. And how exactly would I prevent that?”

“You’ll need a talisman from your home world and a blessing from a fae. Blood would be best, but I doubt you’ll be able to get that in time. The full moon is almost here.”

“Okay two impossible things to get to keep my sanity and a time constraint. Easy peasy.” N’Jadaka, Angel and Shuri recoiled from Hazel’s last words, something about it sitting uneasily in their ears. Human’s are so strange.

“Don’t you have a talisman already? What’s that black rectangle you carry in your pocket?”

“My phone?”

“That’s a phone in your world?” Shuri found herself feeling sorrier and sorrier for the human. In her world that tech was old they didn’t even call it tech.

“Okay you’ve got the talisman, does anybody know a faery?” N’Jadaka did his best to keep his annoyance at bay. The Queen Mother was only helpful when it suited her, and he needed all of the information up front if he wanted to get his life back. Humans are, in a word? Cumbersome. Not to mention the kid. Terra loved her sure, but she didn’t belong in this world. Neither of them did.

“I might know a guy who knows a guy. As long as you don’t mind a trip south.” Angel’s voice treaded lightly into the space between the group, unsure of her status. The Queen Mother wasn’t exactly what she was expecting; regal and enchanting for sure, but a little colder than she was hoping for. N’Jadaka might have been right about meeting your heroes.

“How far south?”

“You know where I’m from.” Angel shrugged as she answered N’Jadaka. They had started talking when she first made it to the Golden Fang and hadn’t really stopped since. The pair knew a lot about each other by now.

“Uh, I don’t.” Humans.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 21, 2040

7:16AM

“So, I just have to wait and see if she comes back on the next full moon?” Erik didn’t like the sound of that.

“From what I can gather, yeah.” Nakia’s voice crackled over the line, and though the words were no help the sound of her voice was a comfort. Erik was at the end of his rope, and this call transported him back in time.

When they were in university, Erik, Nakia and Okoye were a set. Most of the campus referred to them as the ‘Three Musketeers’ though Okoye curled her lip at the lack of ingenuity and Erik rejected the name for the sheer fact that the French were colonizers. Finals season had always been hard on Erik, quietly desperate to excel, and Nakia had always been the one to talk him down from 48 hour study sessions and coax him into sleep. Her voice took on that same tone now.

“Kia, I can’t just wait around.” He’d been waiting for nearly a month. Jules Fay had been waiting.

“I had a feeling you were going say that.” Nakia wondered if there would ever come a day when Erik would be patient. She supposed if there did she should get him to a doctor.

“So give me another option.”

“You said yourself that she’s a smart girl. I’m sure that no matter where she is, she’ll figure it out.”

“I made a promise––”

“You always do Erik.” Ever since he’d started as a PI, Erik made it a point to promise his clients a resolution. He always delivered, even if it wasn’t pretty.

“Nakia I have to do something.” This case was burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. The fact that the girl had gone to another dimension meant nothing to Erik. He still had a case to solve, and getting her back was his first priority. Answers would come after, but he needed her back here, in this world. Jules Fay needed her back too.

“Well go talk to the witch doctor again! He’s the one that came up with the theory in the first place.” Erik didn’t like the idea of going back, but it was all he had. Besides, Nakia was rarely wrong.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 15, 2040

5:14PM

Two days of traveling in the car had Terra and Bug growling at each other playfully while Hazel read all she could about Faeries. N’Jadaka, Angel and Hazel were the only “adults” on the journey. Shuri protested being left behind, especially when N’Jadaka brought Terra and Hazel refused to leave Bug alone, but the Queen Mother insisted.

“This will be a lean journey Shuri. They’re on a deadline after all.” No pressure or anything.

N’Jadaka spent most of the drive south staring between Angel and Hazel, marveling at their mere existence. The two were clearly similar, most would guess twins and they acted like it too. N’Jadaka would know, he’d met his fair share of vampire twins. Still, they weren’t just similar, in looks they were exactly the same. Even through Angel’s sweet soucouyant accent certain words the pair said were identical. From the pull of their jaw to the tenor that vibrated from their lips.

“N’Jadaka, are you done staring at us, or do you need another few minutes?” Angel question with a smirk, pearly fangs flashing in her laughter as Hazel whipped her head up in shock.

N’Jadaka for the most part wasn’t cowed. So he got caught staring at a beautiful vamp. He’s gotten caught doing worse. Still, he turned his attention to Hazel before Angel could get another rise out of him. He didn’t like the way she pulled every… emotion, laugh, smile, grimace, everything out of him with a turn of her lips. Pushing his black leather boot to kick Hazel’s paint and sticker covered sneakers he asked.

“Why are you reading that?” Hazel did her absolute best to ignore the fact that she was the knife cutting the UST between N’Jadaka and Angel, and answered with a finger pointed to the title. Fae, Fairies, and Earthen Magic.

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” For all intents and purposes, Hazel knew nothing about the blessing she was supposed to get. She’d never even knew there was a difference between fairies and faeries. N’Jadaka let out a laugh at her reasoning.

“We’re all the Devil’s creatures. Haven’t you heard?” He smiled that extra wide grin that made his fangs gleam. Hazel repressed a shudder, knowing N’Jadaka was doing this to be annoying. He did the same thing to Shuri all of the time.

“Are you always this unhelpful or is this a special occasion?”

“I am when you’re reading books that old.”

“Shuri game it to me. She said it might help.” Hazel had a hard time believing that Shuri would do anything to lead her off track. The girl had been so kind to Hazel this whole time. She’d been the one to explain all of the tech shit, kimoyo beads being the most important.

“Sorry to say, Shuri might be wrong on this one. This book is older than my grandma, and she’s like twelve centuries old.” Angel said this with a small shrug, sliding the book out of Hazels hands, leaving her grasping.

“Well what exactly should I be doing because I am the only one at rick of losing an undisclosed amount of limbs or my sanity in this faery ring!”

Hazel had done her absolute best to stay calm. She really had, but her heart flinched every time Bug shifted into her jaguar fur, and she shuddered every time some vampire dropped their fangs on the street. None of this was normal, or her normal, and it was all starting to add up. Angel could see her counterpart beginning to crack and tossed the book at N’Jadaka, ignoring the grunt he released, to pull Hazel into her side.

“I’m not saying you can’t do research but this book is way too old. Faeries have changed, hell, all creatures have changed since this was written. Change, evolve, adapt. It’s what we do, It’s in our nature.

“So I’m just supposed to fly blind?”

“No, but we won’t let anything happen to you or the little shifter. You’re safe with us.” Hazel shook her head even as Angel extended her own kimoyo beads towards her. They didn’t get it. They didn’t understand that all of this was life and death for Hazel. Hell, she had a hard time understanding that herself. Angel let Hazel wallow for only a minute, knocking her with her shoulder.

“Hazel, do you trust yourself?”

“Well yeah.” Out of everyone here, she trusted herself the most. Sure she somehow got sucked into another world, but she’d been smart enough to keep herself alive up till now.

“Then trust me. I’m basically you.” Angel finished her declaration with a smile, and Hazel couldn’t help but bark a laugh. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Fine.” Angel clapped and took a peak out of the window.

“Good, and not a minute too soon. We’re here!”

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 21, 2040

7:16AM

“You need to call her.”

“Oh hello Okoye, so great to see you, please come in.” Okoye rolled her eyes and placed a cup of hot coffee on Erik’s desk. His attempts at making coffee were shitty at best.

“Erik, you need more help.” He raised the cup in thanks before taking a sip. Black and burning hot, just how he liked it.

“I don’t. I have you.”

“This is more than I can handle. Erik. Call Nakia, ask her to come down for this.”

“I’m not going to pull her away from the work she ‘actually loves’. Besides I already called her. She gave me whack advice.”

“Oh will you get over yourself?! You two had that fight years ago and you’re still licking your wounds. both of you! “

“I’m not––” A knock interrupted what was sure to be another lie from Erik and Okoye was grateful.

Jules Fay waited at the door, hand poised to knock again. It fell to her side as Erik pulled her into his office, guiding her to a seat and offering her water or juice. Anything but his shitty coffee. She waved it all away.

“I came to see if you’ve found anything about Hazel?”

“I’m sorry Ms. Fay, I haven’t yet. most of my investigation has come up inconclusive but I still have a few more leads to follow.” He didn’t have a few more leads to follow, but he couldn’t tell Jules Fay his working theory either.  

“If it’s money, I don’t have much but I can––” Erik waved off her words, walking around his desk to kneel in front of her. On his knees, he was nearly eye to eye with the woman. He could see fear in her eyes, exhaustion, and worry. He wanted to make all of that go away. He promised to make all of that go away. He would make good on his promise. By the full moon, he would get Hazel back to her mother. Somehow.

“Ms. Fay, it’s nothing like that. I assure you I’m working to find Hazel, it’s just that her case is particularly different than the others I’ve investigated.” A silent nod from Jules had Erik speaking again, if only to fill the silence. “I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. I will find Hazel.”

“Of course he will, he’s assembled the best team in the country.” Nakia entered Erik’s office, the third person today to come in uninvited.

“Ms. Fay, Erik is the best at what he does. We’re going to find your daughter.” Jules Fay nodded with more confidence. Nakia had that effect on people. The woman who had assured her that Hazel would be found oozed a confidence she had never seen, and there was no choice but to believe her. Jules Fay was out the door before long, and Erik raised brow at Nakia.

“You always knew how to make an entrance.”

“And I haven’t missed a beat.” Nakia mirror his gaze, raising her brow in return. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 25, 2040

5:06AM

They were decidedly not fine. Killmonger grew more impatient by the day and Harley was starting to lose hope. They hadn’t even seen a Juvian Sparrow, let alone caught one. Cacti bloomed and grew before them as they waited each day, coming earlier and earlier when Harley read that Juvian Sparrows are easiest to find in the dawn. The pair tried everything they could, approaching from different angles, splitting up, setting traps, and still no sparrow bones.

They were running out of time and they could feel it. Each night on their drive home the moon appeared fuller and fuller. If they were ever going to get Ayana back, they needed to find that sparrow today or else Harley would need another plan. Harley and Monger made it to the forest before the sun began painting the sky. Harley took a moment to send a prayer up to the falling moon and marveled at the stars winking above.

They trudged through the forest in silence for a while, doing their best to avoid the pricks of the cacti around them. Sometimes they weren’t so lucky. Harley hadn’t said anything, but Killmonger knew that this was the day. The Last day they’d be able to search for this Bast forsaken bird. If they didn’t find it, well Killmonger wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what Harley had in mind. he had a feeling it would churn his stomach.

“Did you know Ayana’s mother well?” Harley’s voice pulled Monger out of his thoughts. It was softer than he expected from a witch, but then again, Harley was turning a lot of his preconceived notions on their head.

“Well enough.”

“Was she…a shifter?”

“I…I don’t know.” Harley’s question was cautious and Monger tried to remember more than her brown skin and his bedsheets. He couldn’t.

“So you didn’t know her well.” Monger rolled his eyes at Harley’s remark. Maybe she was right but he didn’t have to admit that. Not now at least.

“Look, I don’t know what she was, but she had power.”

“Like magic?”

“Like I don’t know what. Why do you care?”

“Because, kids take after their parents. We already know Ayana is a shifter but if her mother was a––” Harley stopped before the word witch could fall from her lips. Monger had done a good job of respecting her, he’d even seemed to thaw to her for a bit, but she didn’t want to push it. Not now at least.

“If her mother had power, then it stands to reason that Ayana has that same power. Add the magic that crackles through the town and our girl is a ticking magical time bomb.” Monger pushed down the warmth that bloomed around his heart at Harley’s indication that Ayana was ‘their girl’ and tried to process what exactly she was saying. If Ayana’s mother had turned out to be some kind of creature, then…well that could mean anything. The possibilities scared Monger the most.

“You do know that I didn’t send Ayana anywhere right?”

“I––You’re the only witch around my kid. What was I supposed to think?” Harley was happy to hear the hint of regret in Monger’s voice.

“That I love and cherish her just as much as you do and would never let anything happen to her!”

“Well I didn’t know that then!”

“Well you know it now. Don’t fucking forget it Monger.”

“I’m only letting that slide because your stupid fairytale is sitting on that goddamned cactus.”

“What?” Harley’s voice dropped to a whisper as her head whipped towards the center of the field. There on the largest barrel cactus in the forest was the Juvian Sparrow. The birds wings were black as the night, but seemed to be changing as the sun rose, red rising through its body as the sun glided into the sky. It cocked it’s head this way and that, and Harley held her breath. When it looked away, she released it. She turned to Monger and before Harley could blink, Killmonger was an elegant, golden beast.  

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 25, 2040

10:14AM

Zuri had that feeling again. It was a tug at his gut, a reminder that there was more to come. That someone would be coming. A pinch between his eyes, that signaled him this would require more than a cursory conversation. This would need him to use his brain, encourage him to think and hypothesize. Excitement thrummed through him. He rarely had feelings like this.

Erik, Okoye and Nakia wandered into Badu’s Botany with hopes the shouldn’t have bothered to bring. Erik had warned them that the man was eccentric to say the least. The pair didn’t believe Erik, and why should they. The man was a scientist, a brilliant one at that. They had no reason to think of him otherwise. The wealth of potted plants was their first indication that what Erik said was true. The wind chimes at the door were the second. As they studied the shop, with its figurines and paper piles, the evidence only grew.

The detective was back. Energy shot through Zuri’s body as the bell ringed above the door. He knew the man was searching for someone, the girl that slept with beasts. From the looks of things, he hadn’t found her.

“Detective Stevens. a pleasure to see you again.” He nodded to Okoye and Nakia. “Ladies…”

“Ten years ago, you wrote a paper. A Study of Universal Convergence.”

“I did.”

“Have you found anything that proves your theory?

“Have you?”

“A girl is missing. If you know something, anything––”

“Dr. Badu.” Zuri still at the name. No one had called him doctor in a long time, but Nakia pressed on. “We’re looking for someone who we think…fell into another world. We need to get her back. as soon as possible.”

“Trust in the universe. The moon is her daughter, she’ll see the girl home.” Erik scoffed at the man. If he ‘trusted in the universe’ he’d still be seven years old, waiting for his father to breathe again.

“Forget it. I should have known this would be a waste of time.” Erik couldn’t believe he’d wasted precious time talking to this…ugqirha.

“Don’t worry detective. She will fall into the nest of her making soon enough.” Erik pushed out of the door so hard the chimes screamed his exit.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 25, 2040

12:49PM

The Isle, like plenty of other things in this world, is unlike anything Hazel has ever seen. Not technically an island, the large land mass was surrounded by water on three sides, so the name stuck. There was also the matter of the water that flowed through it. Rivers and streams parted the land like hair, slicing through the sandy brush and practically glowing blue. Hazel had only ever seen water that blue in pictures.

Two vampires, a human, a shifter, and a sleek golden jaguar tumbled out of the car and into a boat. Angel’s manager sputtered as she shut the door in his face with a placating wave.

“Rocko, I’ll be fine. If I’m not back in 3 days, call search and rescue, otherwise I don’t want to hear you on my line.” The boat sped off before we could hear his response.

“Where to Miss Haze?” Angel didn’t seem alarmed that the boat driver knew who she was. In fact, she grinned and patted him on the back. N’Jadaka watched their contact with an eagle eye.

“I need to see an old friend.” The driver nodded, and with that they were on their way.

The streams were like side streets, the rivers like highways. Hazel wondered at the houses that stood tall and covered the land mass they reseted on, making them look like they were floating structures instead of tiny islands cut to creation by the waters that ran through the Isle. N’Jadaka stared hard at the driver, wondering how he knew exactly what Angel wanted, before he shook himself out of his jealousy and turned his attention back to the situation at hand. They were pulling up to a bar, if you could call it that. There was no signage, nothing to signify that this wasn’t the shack of a murderer, but Angel hopped out with glee. She gave the driver a tip and a kiss on the cheek and gestured for the group to follow her.

The group pushed through the sorry excuse for a door, wooden slats stapled together and moving on a pair of rusted hinges. Inside it was hazy and red. Sunlight filtered through the holes in the walls, only covered by thin white sheets, and blood red couches littered the space around a small stage. More of a platform really. A duo on an electric piano and colorful soundboard crooned something in what sounded like French, and Hazel took in the scene. Vampires lounged on the couches, velvety and soft, a few humans were bleeding, but other than that, nothing nefarious was happening. Maybe she came at the right time.

“Well slap my cat and call me Lucifer! Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you young lady, look awfully familiar.”

“Nix.” The man in question approached Angel with open arms and a grin that showed off his platinum fangs. As he got closer, Hazel could see that all of his teeth were platinum. Angel couldn’t keep the grin off of her face. Between touring and writing and producing and life, she’d missed her childhood friend. She’d missed home.

“Well if it isn’t Little Miss Hazie.” The two were a gathering of brown skin and strong arms as they hugged tightly.

Nixie.” He scrunched his nose at the nickname, pulling away from there hug as N’Jadaka tamped down the jealousy the bubbled up in his gut.

“Yeah yeah, you’re too cool for that nickname, owning your own blood club and shit.”

“Well shit, I thought for a second you were a ghost, but not with a mouth like that.” The pair erupted into laughter, and N’Jadaka let them laugh for a minute before clearing his throat. Something about Angel’s smile was different here. Her eyes closed a bit more, her nose scrunched tighter, her shoulders fell back in laughter. She looked more than relaxed. She looked happy. Happier than she had been in Metropolis.

“Right. Sorry guys.” Angel righted herself and Nix. “You got an office?” Nix shook his head.

“I’ve got a bar.”

“Close enough.” As the group approached the bar, Terra prowling close to N’Jadaka with Bug on her back, Angel and Nix spoke in animated tones. Hazel couldn’t understand a word they were saying, though she wasn’t quite sure they’d switched languages, it was more like they had fallen into a vernacular that she wasn’t quite familiar with. Something southern and black and french? Though she couldn’t even be sure France existed in this world.

“Now Haze, I’ve known you for a long time, and never once did you mention having a twin.” Nix busied himself with wiping the bartop, obsidian black flecked in gold, and pulling a few glasses down.  

“She’s not my twin, she is me.”

“Care to explain?” Before Angel could elaborate A tall stocky vampire, with milk white skin sauntered into the bar. Most of the patrons turned their backs on the guy, returning to the conversations with a fervor. A few stronger looking vampires pushed off from their place on the walls of the bar and stood tall. The man in question either didn’t notice the reaction or didn’t care as he sauntered up to the bar.

“Nix! Serving straight from the source now? Very nice touch.” Angel and N’Jadaka pushed Hazel behind them and bared their teeth at the stranger.

“Clive. These are my guests, you’d do well to treat them as such.”

“Well what about that little lamb?” The man shucked his chin to Bug, still sat on Terra’s back in her jaguar fur. “I’ve always loved veal.”

“Back off Clive. You can order something on the menu or you can go. Either one suits me.” Nix balled his fist on the granite bartop and Clive sneered a grin. He knocked on the granite, flashed his fangs at Hazel and sauntered out of the club.

Angel released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She’d promised to protect Hazel, and she didn’t take her promises lightly. N’Jadaka could see that Angel was shaken, and took the lead no explaining things, still keeping Hazel behind him and beckoning Terra closer. Sure the human and shifter were annoying, but they’d grown on him. And he was almost rid of them, it would suck for something to happen before they completed their little ‘quest’.

“We need to find a faerie. Preferably a nice one.” Nix blew out a big breath at Angel’s request.

“Tall order kid. I’ll give you the info you want. For a price of course.” Though his words were serious his tone was teasing and Angel couldn’t fault his hustle. Keeping a blood club this nice in the Isle couldn’t be cheap.

“What do you want Nix?”

“You got any old tour merchandise?”

“Seriously?” Of all the things she expected, this was not it. She had plenty of that shit locked up in storage, it was an easy trade.

“You seem to forget just how popular you are little Haze. Vintage shit sells like crazy.” With a few dozen shirts, Nix could expand the club and improve the sound system all the while investing in a few local businesses he personally wanted to see flourish.

“I’ll have it sent to the location of your choice as soon as you give me what I want.” Angel wasn’t worried about the merch or the money, she knew Nix would use most of it for the good of the community. Under all of his tough, bar owner exterior, he was a nice vamp. She would know, she grew up with him.

“His name’s Roaen and he lives in The Sink.”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 25, 2040

6:19AM

Killmonger and the Juvian Sparrow danced. Monger leaping silently and landing on the tips of his paws and the sparrow, fluttering like its life depended on it. It did after all. Harley watched in awe of the pair. Each time the sparrow flew above the cacti, she could see the dark night sky under its wings, once she even thought she saw stars twinkling in the feathers. She was just about to give up, and try to find another when when the bird squawked. Monger had it between his teeth, fangs bared and pinching.

The Juvian Sparrow never made another sound, even as monger snapped its neck and set it on the gritty ground. As quickly as he had become a jaguar, Killmonger shifted back into his human form. Of course that meant he was standing naked in the morning sun, blood streaking his chin and golden fangs glinting beneath his lips. Harley pushed her focus onto the bird, ignoring the way his perfectly brown skin gleamed in the sunlight.

“Okay, so, there’s your bird.”

“Alright.” The pair stood there staring at each other. Harley waiting for Killmonger to shift, and Monger waiting for Harley to do something…magical. Then the pair spoke at the same time.

“Well aren’t you going to––”

“Can’t you just use magic to––” Harley gestured for Killmonger to finish.

“Can’t you just use magic to get the bones?”

“The spell won’t work if I use magic to procure the ingredients. I can’t upset the balance like that, not if I’m asking for something in return.”

Years ago, when she had first discovered magic and powers and spells, Harley attempted a prosperity spell. Or rather, she summoned a load of cash to use for a school field trip her parents told her they couldn’t afford. With a candle and a wish, the money appeared to her and she took it. She never blew out the candle or thanked the elements for bringing her the money, never once thought about where the money came from at all, but as she found, especially in magic, you can’t get something from nothing.

In the end the money ended up burning a hole in her pocket, literally. She buried it deep within in the earth, giving it back to the soil to do with it what it may. She didn’t go on the field trip, and she didn’t try another spell until she turned 18 and began her own grimoire.

“Everything about magic is reciprocal. I can’t upset that balance.” Monger looked dumbfounded.

“So magic has rules?” Harley waved her hand in the universal sign for ’50/50’ as she responded.

“More like follow the laws of nature and you’ll be fine.”

“Well it’s a good thing I shifted back. I have a feeling I’ll need opposable thumbs for this.” Harley rolled her eyes at the ridiculous statement but Monger didn’t miss the smile that curled on her lips. He liked it.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 26, 2040

2:57PM

The trio ended up at Oakies, seated at the bar and shooting the shit, just like old times. The bar was a classic jet black, polished to perfect and currently clear of any patrons. It might have been a little early for a drink, but after their visit to the witch doctor, they all needed a drink. The couple on stage wailed about dead men walking over a country guitar.

Won’t do me no good washin’ in the river. Can’t no preacher man save my soul.

They all had their drinks. None of them had changed their orders, though today, they all ordered an extra set of shots. Erik eyed the glasses slid on the table. A Pimm’s Cup for Nakia, whisky from the highest shelf for Erik, and for Okoye…To be honest Erik still had no idea what Okoye was drinking, but he stayed away from her glass either way. The one time he took a sip from her cup, he woke up the next morning with no recollection of the night before.

“So do you think he’s right?” Okoye didn’t know what to say about Zuri Badu. At the very least the man was an enigma and Okoye had been out of her depth with this case since Erik stepped foot on her campus. At this point, she was just along for the ride.

“About?”

“Letting the universe work itself out? It’s not like he said much more. The man wasn’t exactly a sparkling conversationalist.” Erik was still bitter about that part. He had hoped he would learn more about Badu’s working theory of converging universes, but the man had been just as ambiguous as before.

“That is an understatement.”

“So E, answer the question, what do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think Kia. The man speaks in riddles. Do I feel like he told us something useful? Maybe, but I’m not sober enough or drunk enough to decipher it.” With that, Erik slammed his shot back and waved for another. Zuri had plenty to say, but none of it made sense to Erik. He wasn’t nearly as poetic as he needed to be if he was going to solve this case by the full moon.

“Well I think he was telling us to prepare for her. ‘She will fall into the nest of her making’ and ‘The moon will see her home’? That’s not telling us to sit around and wait. It’s a promise. She’ll be back on the full moon, and we have to be ready for her. You have to be ready for her Erik.” Nakia had seen Erik at his worst, and this surpassed it. By a mile. Or two. She’d never seen him so broken up about a case.

“Okay. So I go back to the Golden Fang and I just wait? What about all of the people?” After three days, Erik had recommended that Jules Fay take her case to the police as well. Just to have it on file. He had no doubt that they would screw things up, and the Ortega precinct did not disappoint. They turned the alleyway into a media circus. People were always there, taking pictures right where ‘that girl disappeared’.  

“Try and get it cordoned off. Remember, we’re supposed to rid the location of any malicious beings.”

“Right.” Erik knew what he would have to do to get that alleyway cordoned off for the night of the full moon. Nakia knew he knew too. She also knew he’d drink about five more shots before acknowledging it.

“You should call the Chief.” Erik slammed back another shot. He’d already made up his mind to go visit him tomorrow.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 26, 2040

11:09PM

The Sink isn’t actually a sink, Hazel was relieved to find. According the Angel, the Sink was in the center of the island. Angel led the four of them out of Nix’s bar and waved her hand as a few boats whizzed by before one stopped for them. N’Jadaka handed the driver the money before Angel could even bother and she stuck out her tongue. She was the popstar and the one with a doppelgänger apparently. She could pay for a boat ride.

Angel told the driver where to go in her soucouyant tongue. To Hazel and N’Jadaka the words were a garbled birdsong, confusing but enchanting all the same. There was just something about the way the words rolled off her lips that kept their attention. Hazel would have thought that she was a siren if she didn’t know any better. Being in this world for nearly a month meant that she does know better.

This boat driver wasn’t as tactile as the other, but Hazel thinks its because N’Jadaka was staring the guy down. Still, they floated their way towards the center of the Isle, passing houses and shops and even a floating hospital. As they travelled on, the buildings grew sparse. Trees grew wider and wilder, enormous frogs bumped into the boat hard enough to rock it, dolphins puttered through the water and the world grew quiet. Verdant foliage obscured the ground, and eyes peeked through the underbrush. Not silent, Hazel could still hear the crickets chirping and the waves cresting, but everything was quiet. Calm.

The driver docked at the shore of a tiny house. It was built of stone, with a wooden door and a paneless window. A few pieces of the thatched roof scratched at the house as the quintet unloaded. Terra prowled a close perimeter and returned with a snuff. Whatever she had found, she didn’t like. Bug seemed to feel the same way as she squirmed in Hazel’s arms. Soon enough the baby was on the ground, shifting into her jaguar fur and being nipped up by Terra.

���Come on.” Angel had heard of the faeries in the Sink. She’d never met one, but there’s a first time for everything.

The group padded to the door slowly. Angel knocked, and they waited. And waited. The moon was high in the sky for a moment Hazel wondered if they all shared the same one. The door creaked open before she could think any more of it.

“Uh, woah.”

The little thatch cottage was not so little, and not nearly as quaint as the exterior alluded to. A vast room stretched before them. The room with its shiny cherry wood floors, divine golden mirrors, and creatures of all kinds, could not be real. It was at least three times as large as the cottage itself. There was just no way.

“Don’t sound so impressed Hazel, this is faery magic.” N’Jadaka whispered this to Hazel, but the point was moot. He was surrounded by beings with heightened abilities.

“You scorn the name of my people and yet you come to me with a request. Interesting introduction N’Jadaka Udaku.” Angel cringed. They already had an impossible ask, and N’Jadaka was not making things easier. Any other time, she admired his snark, but now it was killing them.

“I assume you’re Roaen.”

The man in question was draped in women. Hazel wasn’t even positive he was wearing clothes. All she could see was brown butter skin and animal print. He was lounging on a tiger fur, and the women around him all wore that same print. Roaen gave a nod to Angel’s statement, and Hazel was taken aback.

Aside from the fact that she’d never even seen a faery before, he wasn’t as small as Hazel expected. Faeries in her world had always been perceived as tiny, cute, bell like beings with adorably short tempers. This guy was…not tiny by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he was built like a house. Young, but carrying himself with the weight of a thousand years. Not dissimilar from N’Jadaka, though Hazel was smart enough to keep that thought to herself.

“I am.”

Roaen stood, and the fur beneath him took shape, morphing into a tiger. The dress the girl was wearing did the same and she was left naked, peering up at the man with hazy eyes. Jagged grey wings unfurled from his back, the only ugly thing on the man, and he jerked his head to the side. A signal for the girl to leave.

“Is he?” Hazel nodded to Bug who was lounging on Terra’s back, but N’Jadaka shook his head. The man wasn’t a shifter, just a faery. Magic is a powerful tool. Angel stepped forward discreetly, pushing Hazel behind her.

“Dia dhuit ársa amháin.” Roaen’s brow raised at the use of his native tongue, as mangled as it was, and responded with a grin. He loved messing with the young ones.

“Well, well, well. Two vampires, a human, and a shifter walk into a bar. There’s got to be a punchline there somewhere.”

“I––” Angel stuttered for something to say. This was her turf after all. “Arsa ársa, táimid tar éis teacht ar do bheannacht.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you stop butchering my language with your soucouyant accent. Dia.” Roaen laughed, and continued before Angel could close her gaping mouth. “Y’all must be in some deep shit to need a blessing from me.”

N’Jadaka, Angel and Hazel all exchanged a look. A look that debated on telling this stranger the truth. A look that implored the others to be reasonable. A look that annoyed the faery standing before them.

“Would you like me to leave?”

“Oh no Mr. Faery––Roaen––Uh, sir.” After that, the words fell out of Hazel’s mouth like apples shaken from a tree. By the end, she was winded. “So, I need your blessing to stay sane.”

“Interesting indeed.” A pause. “I’ll do it, but you need to do something for me. Quid pro quo and all of that stuff.” Hazel nodded. “I need you to get me a stone from the bottom of the Middle Well.”

The Middle Well was dangerous. At least, that’s what Angel had always been told. The well itself was rumored to be gorgeous, tranquil, enchanting, but Angel had never met anyone who had seen it first hand. No creature ever wanted to bother with the place. It was steeped in bad energy. Even N’Jadaka knew the tales of the south. That the Middle Well was more than just a scenic view, that it was a passage. An access point for those in the afterlife. That was no place for Hazel. No place for a human at all.

“No. No way. She is not diving down there.” Angel knew the faery would ask for something, but she figured it would be money, or tour merch, not this. The Middle well has no bottom. No creature has ever made it out of that water alive, let alone returned with a stone.

“Angel, I’m sure it’s not––”

“Hazel, you don’t even know what you’re agreeing to. That well is on faery land. You don’t know what you’re risking.” The stories Angel’s mother told her as a child were more than that. They were second hand accounts, memories of friends who had dived in for fun and never returned. “It’s a suicide mission.”

“It’s true that the well was built on the land of my people, but the well itself was made by the hands of hers.” Roaen nodded to Hazel lazily. “Humans built that well, and as such, we magical creatures have a hard time pulling from that place. Her on the other hand, should be fine.” Angel and N’Jadaka knew faeries couldn’t lie, but Roaen only said that she should be fine. That is not enough of a guarantee. Not by a long shot.

“Should be––” N’Jadaka had done his best to hold his tongue, he really had, but things were spiraling.

“There has to be another way––” Angel couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let her alternate self die. They had to find another way out of this––

“I’ll do it.” Hazel had been silent through most of the argument, letting Angel take the reigns. She was just a human after all. Apparently, in this instance, that worked in her favor.

“Hazel you can’t––”

“Angel, do you trust yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Then trust me. I’m basically you.” Angel relented to Hazel’s weak smile and shrug, hating that her words worked against her. She’d just have to find a way to keep her alternate self alive. No pressure.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 26, 2040

8:18AM

“Alright, I’ll pluck it and you shuck it.” Monger would be damned if he had to do all of the work for this witch. In all honesty, he didn’t mind the hunt, the early morning rides, even the cacti, but he needed a resolution. This bird was the key to Ayana and he’d done more than his fair share.

“I don’t know how to do that!” Harley’s frustration oozed out of her words, though it wasn’t all directed towards Monger. This may be the first time she wished she knew how to debone a bird, but that didn’t make the feeling any less true. Up until now, Killmonger had done all of the work and it irked her to no end that she still needed help.

“You’re a witch, ain’t dismemberment in your blood?”

“Oh fuck off Monger.”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“No. I never had a teacher okay?” Oma and Shuri were the closest Harley had come to having any sort of mentors, and they were a 4 hour ride away.

“So how did you learn control?” Killmonger wasn’t stupid. Sure he blamed Ayana’s disappearance on Harley, but at this point even he knew that was bullshit. There were bigger things at play here and he’d seen Harley’s powers enough to know that she had a good grip on them. He’d watched her play with Ayana, pulling rabbits from behind rocks and making the sand shine as she blew it from her fingertips. Harley had control, and if she didn’t have a teacher, how did she get it?

“I had to teach myself for the most part. My siblings helped sometimes. Sort of.” Harley cringed at the memory of performing magic in front of her family. The required love that lasted until you moved out of the family house, or were kicked out. Whichever one came first.

“Well come over and I’ll teach you.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 26, 2040

11:09PM

Hazel knew clicking her heels with a chorus of ‘there’s no place like home’ wouldn’t be the thing to get her back to her own life, but she didn’t expect diving for some stone would be the answer either. She supposed she shouldn’t have even tried to guess at this point. She was out of her depth, literally.

N’Jadaka made Roaen state the deal before they left. He’d mentioned to Hazel that even though Fae couldn’t lie, they still loved to omit things and play with promises. She was glad to see that N’Jadaka and Angel wouldn’t let that happen to her.

“The Middle Well was built by your kind. Or shall I say on your kind.” Roaen began his story as they trekked through the woods behind his home. The streams were small enough to hop over now and Hazel savored the crunch of the leaves as she jumped. Bug  and Terra were having a grand old time too.

“That does’t make sense.” Angel and N’Jadaka spoke in sync and Roaen rolled his eyes. He was surprised at how…dutifully they protected their human charge.

“The early humans, the ones here before vampires and shifters and phoenix’s, they had an idea about the afterlife. You see they studied the tides. The watched them give and take. They watched the waves roll out into the sun and they thought that that was the only way to Elysium. Through water, through the ocean.”

“When they found this land, laden with streams and rivers all rolling out into the ocean, they decided to craft a well. A funeral space basically. For centuries they burned the bodies of their dead, praying as the fire kissed them to ash. Then they came to the Middle Well, they sprinkled the ashes into the water and watched as the connecting streams and rivers pulled their loved ones away, away, and out to sea. Out to the sun, moon and stars.”

They made it. The Middle Well was not what Hazel expected. It didn’t look like a well at all, more like a pool. It was in the shape of a half moon, stones built up on the sides to guide the water. Four streams connected to the mouth of the well, pushing the water to ebb and flow.

“This doesn’t look deep enough to dive into.” Hazel had been swimming. Hell, she used to dive in high school and this pool was not nearly deep enough. She couldn’t exactly see the bottom of the pool, but there were only three stone steps leading into the pool. It couldn’t be deep enough.

“The last human I met here said promised it was plenty deep.”

“So you do this a lot to humans?” N’Jadaka couldn’t stand the faerie’s casual tone. If Hazel was about to dive to her death for some pebble, the guy could at least show some respect.

“This well may have been build by humans but it is on fae land. It’s deep enough.” Angel could see the tick in Roaen’s jaw. His annoyance was obvious and she wondered if her hid a monstrous face behind the pretty one they saw. For a moment, she wished she could see beyond his faery glamour. Just so she knew exactly what they were dealing with.

“Alright well, wish me luck.” Hazel had stripped down to her underwear while the vampires were studying Roaen. She padded to the stone steps and Bug did her best to follow her on four legs. She turned, pushing the cub back towards N’Jadaka and Angel. Terra came and grabbed her by the scruff. Then she sat at the top step with Bug, like they were already waiting for Hazel to return. Hazel didn’t bother looking at her promised protectors, knowing their worry wouldn’t help her now. Instead, she turned to Roaen.

“Just one stone?”

“Just one. Ádh mór.”

She waded into the pool slowly. Counting each stone step she took. After the third, the world dropped out from under her and she fell. N’Jadaka and Angel had to hold themselves back. They knew interference was against the rules. if the so much as touched that well, their whole deal could be nullified by Roaen.

Hazel drifted back to the surface of the clear water, doing her best to stay clam. She had no idea what she was doing, but she decided to tread towards the sides of the well, hoping to catch an errant stone from there. After about five minutes of scrambling with her hands, she made peace with the fact that there would be no shortcuts. Not on Faery land.

Three strokes brought her to the center of the pool. A deep, swimmers breath filled her lungs. Then, heart in her chest and eyes wide open, she dove. The water was cold, pricking at her skin as she pushed. Deeper and deeper she swam, knowing that in a while she’d be too deep to save herself. She hadn’t swam in a long time. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she used to be. Deeper and deeper still, and no stones. Not even moss, or frogs or kelp. Nothing lived down here.

Before she could turn back she heard something. A sigh, no, a scream. The sound rang through Hazel’s ears, clear as day. She swam deeper, towards the sound. Breathing was the least of her worries if someone was down there. A few strokes further and an image flashed across her eyes. A bloody chest, scaly tail, and a face like hers. Hazel pushed back, away from the image, but it was in her head. More started coming, more blood, more pain, more death. And it was all her, every different version of her as she died, crying and screaming and gurgling through their last moments.

Hazel felt paralyzed. She let the water pull her deeper as the visions flashed through her mind. She cried as she saw her death over and over and over. Hazel was trapped. Stuck in this well, a hostage to the universe’s plans for her alternate selves. Then her hand brushed something smooth. The feeling of something in this empty pool, anything was enough to shock Hazel out of her stupor. She grasped, and pulled a stone free. It came loose easily, and the visions stopped. No screaming or crying or blood.

She was free. Hazel kicked her way up, up, and up. Further and further as her vision faltered. Her heart was on overload, she wasn’t going to make it. She didn’t have enough breath in her body. She couldn’t have enough breathe in her body. It was humanly possible. Her vision blackened as she rev another push, and then she broke the surface. Sputtering, gasping, alive, Hazel made her way to the stone steps, rock in hand.

Roaen was there to pull her up, and he sat with her at the mouth of the well. He hovered his hand over her shivering body, and murmured something ancient. She followed his hand, and for a second she thought she saw claws. He continued, and she peered up at his face. It was hideous, half peeled and rotting. His blessing came at a cost to the both of them.

“There, you’re blessed.”

“That’s it?” Hazel could hardly believe it. She didn’t feel any different, but she wasn’t a faery either. Roaen nodded.

“Now, leave me. I’ll need some time to reconstruct my glamour.” Hazel nodded, noting how he never turned from her, keeping his back to everyone else. “Oh and one more thing,” He tossed the stone to Hazel. “Hold onto this. I have a feeling you might need it one day.”

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 27, 2040

9:22AM

The Ortega precinct was just as quiet as Erik remembered. Kinsey and Roles were still at their desk through sour worms at each other, Coles was still color coding her reports, and Frig still sat in his sergeants chair taller than he should. The receptionist waved him in with a manicured nail and a bitten lip and Erik rolled his eyes. Every little thing reminding him exactly why he left the force.

He mocked a salute to Kinsey and Roles as he passed his and Okoye’s old desks, still empty. They weren’t bad cops, just goofy. Frig straightened even taller somehow nodding to Erik as he knocked on the Chief’s door. There was no nameplate glistening at the handle or glittering on the glass. Just shuttered bulletproof windows that vibrated when the Chief’s accented voice shouted ‘Enter.’

“Well if it ain’t my favorite detective. Stevens, how the hell are you boy?” Erik cringed like he always did when the chief called him ‘boy’, but exchanged pleasantries either way. After being ushered into a set before the Chief, Erik finally relaxed. This used to be his normal, bringing cases to the Chief’s office with Okoye and finding new angles, sitting before the Chief and groaning about the grind. Though it was comfortable, in the end, it wasn’t worth it, it wasn’t nearly enough for Erik or Okoye.

“Well then, what brings you by? I know you’re not here to rejoin the force.” The Chief stated this with a pained laugh, and Erik shrugged it off. He didn’t need to feel guilty for leaving.

“Chief Klaue. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Tomorrow night, I need you to cordon off the alley behind The Golden Fang.” Erik didn’t mention anything about full moons or alternate universes. He had a feeling The Chief would be less inclined to help if he though Erik had gone off of the deep end.

“That shitty club? Why?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Is that someone going to be in that club?” A breath and another question. “Stevens are you into anything illegal?”

“No Chief. This isn’t illegal.”

“Then why not go through the proper channels?” Erik rolled his eyes at the thought of getting a permit from City Hall. He’d been in his late eighties before the paperwork even went through.

“It’s for a case. A very time sensitive case.”

“A case that isn’t police business. Stevens I can’t just––” Klaue could, and Erik knew that. It’s why he was here in the first place. The Golden Fang was in his jurisdiction, and he only needed the alley blocked off for a night. He just needed it empty long enough for Hazel to…come back.

“I’ve never asked you for anything Chief. Not one damn time. Even when I was on the force. Trust me when I say I’ll never ask again, but I need you to do this. Officially.” Chief Klaue heaved a sigh. The damn boy was right. If this was the biggest thing his best detective could ask for, he’d better count his blessings.

“Fine. I hope you find who you’re looking for. And call me when you’re ready to rejoin the force Stevens. We miss you around here.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 31, 2040

7:12PM

They pulled up to the Golden Fang as the sun was setting. The journey back had been…difficult to say the least. Bug started teething. Sure she had fangs as a jaguar, but her human teeth were pushing through now, and the girl was not happy. The car was filled with her pained cries as the supernatural creatures in the car stuffed their ears. Hazel did her best to placate the baby, eventually giving her her finger to naw on. It turned her cries into whimpers, and they were all grateful. The second they hit the blood club Hazel was behind the bar, filling a clean rag with ice cubes.

Finally. You’re back! I’ve been waiting ages! How did everything go?” Shuri paused. “Wait. What is wrong with her?”

“She’s teething Shuri.”

“Yikes.” She shuddered and turned to N’Jadaka. “So?”

“Well, we got the blessing.” Angel snorted at his tone. There wasn’t much ‘we’ about it, Hazel had done the heavy lifting, and she respected the human––her alternate self for that. N’Jadaka did too, though he’d be loathe to admit it.

“And just in time. Better hurry, the moon is almost up.”

The group made our way towards the back of the bar, standing at the door where Hazel first entered the Golden Fang. Bug had stopped crying, and she was chomping happily at the icy cloth in her mouth. Tear tracks dried on her face, but she looked more like she did when Hazel first found her.

“Okay, Queen Mother told me what to do, so…I’ve got this.” Shuri waved to Hazel and Bug. “I’ve got to put you two into a salt circle, so, uh…” Shuri pulled the pair into a hug, doing her best not to squeeze too tightly.

“Thanks for proving me right. Especially because I got to prove N’Jadaka wrong.” She winked and pranced back, making space for N’Jadaka and Angel. Terra barreled between them and pounced on Hazel. Tackling her and Bug into a hug. Hazel let the two play one last time as she turned to N’Jadaka and Angel.

“So, uh, thanks for not eating me the first time we met.” N’Jadaka’s mouth quirked in a smirk and he shrugged.

“You’re not really my type, but you’re a better human than I expected. Even if you are a little slow––” Angel cut off his teasing with a smack and pulled Hazel close.

“It was nice to meet you. Or well, me. You still have the stone right?” Hazel nodded reaching into her pocket to feel its smooth edges. “Good. That way, you can come back and visit.” Angel squeezed Hazel a little tighter, and stepped back, taking Terra and N’Jadaka with her.

“Okay. Moon’s almost up, We’ve got to move.”

Shuri positioned Hazel and Bug before the door. She drew a semi circle of salt around them, lighting four candles on the way. She spritzed them with moon water, and sent a prayer to Bast. Then, she turned to Hazel.

“You have your talisman right?”

“My phone? Yeah.” Hazel fished it out of her pocket and pressed the home button, still disappointed when the screen didn’t illuminate.

“Tragic.” Hazel rolled her eyes.

“Shuri.”

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, Hold your phone and think of your world. Only your world. When I open this door, I want you to step through, and let go of Bug.” Hazel’s eyes flashed to Shuri in alarm. She wasn’t just going to drop a baby.

“Trust me. She’ll make it back to her world and you’ll make it back to yours. This door opens the universe, so you have to stay focused on your world or you could end up somewhere else completely. Again.” Hazel nodded and gripped her phone. She gave Bug one last glance and a kiss on the forehead. She’d miss the little troublemaker. Then Shuri opened the doorway and it was filled with the moon.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 31, 2040

8:16PM

Jet at the north. Celtic salt at the south. Cypress root to the west. The bones of a Juvian Sparrow to the east. A scrying bowl full to the brim with a dark, witching potion. All connected with a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Golden Fang. Oma suggested that she do the spell and scrying in the place she was most comfortable, and even though Monger looked about ready to blow a gasket from his place behind the bar, he allowed her to stay. He even closed out the bar for the night. She only saw the moon as the Jags stumbled out, it was full and brighter than she’d ever seen. Hopefully that was a good sign.

The spell was easy. She had all of the components. She’d spoken the words until they slipped from her lips in her sleep. She knew her magic wouldn’t fail her in this. The scrying was the hard part. She’d only done it a few times more since that first time with Oma, and the nerves licked at her calm like flames.

Surrounded by candles and crystals Harley knelt on the paneled wooden floor. The spell was done in minutes, opening up the space in the circle to…anything. Hopefully she’d be pulling Ayana through the crack she’d created and re-warding the place as soon as possible. Harley hated the idea of opening the Golden Fang up to anything. One never knew what waited in the veil between worlds.

She turned her attention to the scrying bowl, grabbing it with both hands and sitting it in her lap. This time, as she saw her reflection in the liquid, she did her best to hone in on Ayana’s energy. Monger watched as Harley stopped blinking. He’s pretty sure she stopped breathing, but she’d warned him not to interrupt her. Not for anything.

Harley started with the version of herself she’d seen wrapped up with Ayana’s aura. Pale yellow curled around fuchsia. Now that she knew what she was looking for, they weren’t hard to find. The girl, and her rockstar counterpart were both mingling with Ayana’s essence, but before Harley could coax her aura out to pull Ayana back, the baby fell. Only, she wasn’t falling to the ground. Ayana was tumbling through worlds.

Harley could see tens and hundreds and thousands of creatures like her. A mermaid in one. A succubus in another. A crane. A child. A snake. A knight. She was everything and one thing, but Killmonger appeared in them too. He was her equal, then opposite, her friend, then enemy. Everything and one thing.

Harley tried to focus. Tried to follow Ayana’s aura streaking through the universe. Tried to grab a hold of the girl she cared so deeply for, but somewhere between her queen self and shaman self, she lost her baby girl. Killmonger couldn’t watch any longer. Harley hadn’t breathed in nearly two minutes. He wanted Ayana back more than anyone could know, but he wouldn’t let Harley die searching for her.

Rounding the bar and breaking Harley’s chalk circle Monger reached a hand to her arm. Electricity crackled up to his shoulder as Monger’s fingers wrapped around Harley’s arm. Her inhale was so sharp her body rolled. Shoulders fell back, down her spine. Head lolled away from her scrying bowl, but her eyes, her eyes were still blank.

Monger slid his hand from her arm to her chin. Gentle fingers lifted her face to his. Eyes unfocused. His mouth curved around her name, just a whisper. A breath ghosting past her lips. And then, a pop.

“I told you she was a trouble maker.” Harley was lucid enough to see that Monger finally had his arms full again, and she grinned right before passing out.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 31, 2040

9:25PM

Hazel landed on the hard asphalt with a thump and a huff, the wind rushing out of her. She could see the moon, full and bright shining down on her from its place in the deep dark sky. She breathed in the crisp fall air, and her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. It wouldn’t stop actually, buzzing with a months worth of missed notifications. Hazel breathed out a sigh. She made it. Limbs and sanity intact. Just as she was about to cry in relief, someone cleared his throat.

“Hazel Fay?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Erik Stevens. I’m a detective. Your mother hired me to find you.”

“Oh.” A pause as she processed this, and then. “Oh shit.” Erik’s lips curled into a rueful grin.

“Can you tell me where you’ve been?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.” Hazel shook her head after responding. Hell, she could hardly believe what had happened.

“Try me.”

Here’s Killmonger’s bike inspo in case you were wondering!

Translations

ugqirha: witch doctor

—l—

Dia dhuit ársa amháin: Hello ancient one (Irish)

Arsa ársa, táimid tar éis teacht ar do bheannacht: Ancient one, we’ve come to you for a blessing (Irish)

Dia: God (Irish)

—l—

Ádh mór: Good luck (Irish)

A/N: So that’s that on that. Baby Ayana is home safe and sound! So is Hazel!

 Low-key why do I write about bars so much I don’t even go to bars????? And I never really have????? Anyways…..here we are! The end. Didya like it? Did y’all have fun on the journey? This was as much a writing exercise as it was a passion project for me. I wanted to see if I could (1) even write a mystery (2) incorporate magic in a vaguely realistic way (3) ONLY write four parts and (4) write everything ahead of time and release it weekly like a TV show, while still keeping people interested. I feel like I low-key did that lolllllllllllll

That being said I can’t wait to revisit this and turn it into some type of script because I def want to expand on these worlds and characters even more. Especially Detective Erik, even though he’s the most human, there’s something more I think he deserves that I couldn’t quite get my finger on just yet. 

I have an inkling of an idea for a future take, but that won’t happen for a while I think. Writing this was my break from writing my book, and even with life stuff not going perfectly, I’m finally feeling good about diving back into my book and my characters! I’m so close to being done so wish me luck! 

My faerie Roaen is Irish, so you see Angel speaking Irish in that one scene because I have a light obsession with Celtic mythology and Ireland in general. I love that place. Everything is so damn green. 

Finally, I want to thank absolutely EVERYONE for reading and liking and reblogging and sharing this story. It really means the world to me especially as a fairly new writer. (This is only my second fic lol) You guys lift my spirit every time you read and I truly am blessed to have y’all reading my story. 

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl @thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat @panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl

[mythandlaur]

The Hornet Sleeps Tonight [Laur Steals Inktober Prompts, Day 1]

Prompt: Poisonous Fandom: Terraria Warnings: Insects, poisoning Notes: Guide/Dryad because I’m trash. Also I was getting burned out by the end of this and I really wasn’t sure where to go with it, so the ending isn’t great, but oh well. Not every one of these will be this long for the sake of my sanity, I just love writing them.

The Guide had never actually been in the jungle before.

Of course, he knew a fair bit about it, as that was part of his job. He’d even actually read about the area’s flora and fauna on the occasions he had time to, rather than simply accepting his intrinsic knowledge of the place. But he’d never actually gone--the jungle was notoriously cruel to those unprepared, and despite his status and condition, he wasn’t actually all that strong and tended to keep to the pure forests whenever he was waiting for the next hero of Terraria to arrive. True, the worst that could really happen if he did go was him dying, and that in itself wasn’t all that much of a problem for him, but it was still a rather unpleasant experience he didn’t want to go through more than necessary.

He’d still been rather curious, though, the heart of an adventurer still beating strong after all these years, and so he’d jumped on the chance when Alalia had hesitantly offered to show him her homeland after the last hero had been slain.

And so, the Guide found himself being guided by the dryad, walking several steps behind her. As they walked, the dirt under their feet gave way to mud, and the pure green of the Purity’s grass began to take on a more yellow tint. The air hung thick and humid around them (the Guide could understand why the dryads wore such scant clothing, he was already getting clammy in his worn gray sweatshirt) and the canopy of the trees closed in above them, nearly blocking out the sunlight. The sounds of chirping and buzzing and dripping water surrounded them, and as the Guide stared around in awe, he could swear he saw the vibrant flowers being shifted by some creature he just barely couldn’t see.

“Watch your step,” Alalia called back to him, tearing his focus from the trunks of the rich mahogany trees. She carefully edged around what looked to be a surprisingly large, muddy puddle as she spoke. “The animals may not hurt you, but the thorns in the underbrush will, and the piranhas wouldn’t want to be disturbed.”

Guide simply nodded in response, copying her route around the pool as they ventured deeper.   All the tension in her seemed to have drained away the moment they’d entered the jungle proper, and now she was making her way easily through the thick brush, without leaving a trace of her presence. It was almost like watching a fish swimming through the waters, and the Guide couldn’t help but watch her with the same sense of wonder as the rest of the environment.

“So, where are we going?” the Guide asked, his voice low as if he were afraid of disturbing the jungle’s ambiance.

“We will walk a short while longer, and then travel underground,” she replied without missing a beat, “This is not the jungle I hail from, but some of my sisters should be hidden there.”

“Are you sure they’d be okay with me visiting? I mean…”

He trailed off, grimacing. The Guide tended to not get along well with most of the dryads, or magically attuned beings in general--something about his ‘aura’ being wrong due to his condition. Even Alalia herself had nearly attacked him on sight before he’d gotten the chance to explain his circumstances.

Alalia stopped for a moment, glancing back at him, a slightly pained look tugging at the corners of her own lips. “You are with me, and I trust you. If that isn’t enough for them, I will try to make them understand.”

The Guide let out a long sigh through his nose and gestured for her to keep walking, which she did after a moment of hesitation. He followed after, struggling to keep himself from sinking into the mud as his mind turned to darker things.

Alalia’s people and the jungle at large had been close allies with the Hallowed creatures back when they’d still existed. The day the Hallow had been sealed, the jungle and its inhabitants had lost a large amount of its security from the spreading Corruption and Crimson, and Guide couldn’t help but feel like he was somehow partially responsible for it, despite it not really being him who had done it. It felt almost wrong being in her territory, an emissary of the thing that had taken away the jungle’s peace of mind.

As if him thinking of it had invoked it, Guide felt a stirring at the back of his soul and a chill at the base of his spine. His lips pressed together tightly and his fists clenched at his sides, his walk slowing.

“Just--just let me have this,” he muttered aloud.

“What was that?” Alalia looked over her shoulder.

“Nothing.”

Both of them knew it was far from nothing, but neither wanted to acknowledge it right then. Guide tried to shake it off as they continued deeper into the jungle, going back to admiring the scenery.

They made idle chatter as they continued, Guide occasionally asking her about the flowers and whether he recalled their names properly. The tension the moment had brought on quickly faded as Alalia rambled on about the plants surrounding them, speaking of them fondly as if each one were a treasured friend, and he couldn’t help but smile and get wrapped up in her enthusiasm, so much like his own.

After another while of walking, Alalia suddenly stopped. Guide stepped up to her side and found himself peering into a large opening in the earth. The light only filtered down a short way through the thick vines, but he could see a few ledges covered in jungle grass before they faded into darkness.

“You can climb, yes?” Alalia didn’t wait for his answer before jumping down the opening to the nearest ledge, landing gracefully in a crouch. She looked up as he gaped down at her, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’ll be safe, the jungle creatures won’t hurt you if you stay by me--just follow my lead.”

Guide nodded, despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure following her lead was physically possible. He crouched down, shifting towards the edge of the opening and calculating the distance to the ledge as Alalia stood up and watched him expectantly.

Guide made the jump, though his landing wasn’t nearly as graceful--he staggered and crumpled to his knees, then his face immediately upon impact. He could hear Alalia giggling as he spat several strands of grass out of his mouth, and she quickly grabbed his arm to help him to his feet.

“S-sorry,” she said, still laughing, raising one hand to cover her mouth. “Perhaps it would be better if you used rope.”

“I didn’t bring any,” he mumbled, his face a little pink.

Alalia raised an eyebrow at him, that same knowing smirk on her face, before turning and walking up the ledge to where some vines hung from the ceiling. She easily tore down a handful of them and began to work.

It wasn’t long before she had a useable length of vine rope for him, and this was how it continued; her jumping from ledge to ledge with practiced ease, him setting the rope and climbing down after her. He had brought torches, but out of respect did not place them, instead getting her to hold one to show him where to throw his rope as the light from the surface faded into a green-tinted, murky darkness.

The sounds of the jungle seemed even louder in here, a buzzing and chirping that echoed around what seemed to be a cavernous open space. A particularly loud buzzing caught his attention as he was letting out a longer section of rope for a vertical drop of at least a few yards.

Guide glanced around nervously and caught sight of a faint shape in the darkness, causing him to freeze in his work. “Uh, Layli? Can you hold that torch up a little more?”

Alalia obliged from the ledge below, but the light didn’t reveal more than a vague shape with stripes--at least as big as Guide was. He swallowed hard, his gaze fixated on the thing making the loud buzzing and seemingly coming towards him.

Alalia seemed to notice his worry. “It is a hornet. It won’t hurt you.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Guide hesitantly looked away from the hornet and continued spooling out his rope, trying to keep focused on his task and not the buzzing that was definitely getting closer now.

He heard Alalia shifting on her feet. “What is it doing? It--no, no, stop.”

“Me stop?”

“No, it’s--the hornet, it’s acting a bit…”

Before she could finish her sentence, there was the sound of something small whizzing through the air. Guide felt a sharp pain blossoming across his shoulder blade and let out a cry, nearly toppling off the ledge in shock. He struggled to scoot himself away from the edge, the hornet circling above him and still buzzing in what the Guide could only interpret as anger.

“Guide!”

He heard Alalia calling out for him, but it was faint as the pain began to spread across his back, his entire left arm going numb at once. His stomach began to churn and he immediately felt ill, curling in on himself as if that would help him. Another stinger struck him, this time in one of his legs.

His vision went blurry and his leg went dead and he groaned in pain, screwing his eyes shut. He heard rustling and shouting and the buzzing fading into the distance, and footsteps in the grass nearby, and he was being shaken and his upper body was lifted and he thought he was looking into Alalia’s face now but the pain was increasing into an agonizing fire along his back and leg, to the point he could almost believe he was in the process of being sacrificed.

Guide managed to focus through the pain just enough to hear Alalia stammering. “--so sorry, I thought they--I thought--because I--” Alalia let out a distressed noise, trying to pull him to his feet. “Those--those stingers are poisonous, but I--my sisters can help, can you walk?”

He tried, but the moment his feet took his weight a bolt of excruciating pain lanced up his stung leg, forcing another strangled cry from his throat. He still fought to get his feet under him, gritting his teeth through it.

“I--I think I can--”

“No, you can’t, stay still.”

“N-no, you--”

Before he could protest, Alalia put her arms around his waist and bodily lifted him off the ground, throwing him awkwardly over her shoulder. For a moment, the pain was almost forgotten for surprise; the Guide wasn’t terribly large or thick in build, but Alalia was definitely smaller than him and certainly didn’t look like she could lift someone his size so easily.

He tended to forget that, for all intents and purposes, Alalia was, technically, a tree.

Then, the pain surged and took his full attention again. Alalia leaped through the darkness ever downwards as if he weighed nothing, as he clung to the back of her wraps desperately in an attempt to keep from screaming in her ear. Somewhere during the descent, the poison weakened him to the point where his mind went fuzzy, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was conscious; he could hear blood roaring in his ears and he could feel Alalia moving, but that was about it.

He thought there might’ve been talking, and he might’ve been set down at some point, but he didn’t start to come to until he felt a bottle shoved against his lips and something thick and sweet in his mouth. His eyes remained closed as he swallowed the liquid down, and he immediately felt a new strength flooding his system as if he’d just drank a healing potion.

He only truly became fully conscious again when he felt something sticky being dumped on him.

Guide spluttered and flailed with his working limbs, struggling to sit up and finding his movements restricted by some thick substance. His eyes flew open, and standing above him, he could see Alalia, hands clasped tightly in front of her and eyes full of worry, and another, smaller dryad with messier hair, holding an overturned wooden bucket still dripping a gold substance.

Guide opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out what to say, but the smaller dryad cut him off. “How’s the pain?”

He had to think about that for a few seconds. He could feel his strength slowly returning, and a tingling sensation raced up his numb arm and leg. The all-consuming pain and sickness were fading away, leaving only two sharp, localized points of pain on his back and leg. Rather than his head spinning, he simply felt tired.

Guide blinked a couple of times in surprise, glancing between the two dryads. “...Better?”

Alalia doubled over with a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“Honey cures everything,” the other dryad said, setting the empty bucket aside an equally empty bottle with a self-satisfied huff. “Or at least, I should hope so, considering I have to get more now.”

Guide took several deep breaths, slowly sitting up straight. A torch he assumed was somewhere behind him illuminated the area, and he could see he was in a cavernous open space deep in the underground jungle, sitting in a puddle of thick honey that just came up to his waist as he was sitting.

“I am so sorry…” Alalia wrung her hands in front of her. “I--I really thought they wouldn’t hurt you because you were with me.”

“What can I say, even the bugs here probably think I smell like a carcass.” Alalia flinched, and Guide quickly realized that had come out harsher than he’d intended. “...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s all right…” Alalia let out a long sigh. “I should have known some of the creatures wouldn’t take kindly to you. Thankfully, Lunette was willing to help when I told her it was urgent.”

Guide twisted himself around as best he could in the honey puddle, looking over his shoulder. Behind him was what looked to be a very large rich mahogany tree, like the living trees of the surface, with a torch affixed just above the entrance. Lunette was standing in the doorway, shoulders tense and violet eyes calculating in a look the Guide had seen many times before.

“I’m not what you think I am,” Guide quickly said, raising a honey-coated hand in a gesture of peace, “I mean no harm, really. Thank you.”

Lunette continued to stare at him warily for a few moments more, before ducking back into the hollow trunk. Guide winced and turned back to Alalia, who was now sitting on the edge of the puddle.

“She’ll come around,” Alalia said. She pulled her knees to her chest, “I really am sorry…”

“It’s not your fault.”

Alalia rested her chin on her knees. “Yes, but I did not want to get you hurt. I wanted you to know this place as I know it.”

Guide reached out, resting one sticky hand against her leg before he could think twice about it. She looked up at him with furrowed brows.

“It’s beautiful. It’s lovely. Just, uh...from a distance, maybe.”

Alalia gave a weak laugh. “From a distance, yes…” She abruptly stood, holding out a hand to help him out. “But you’re here in the heart of the jungle, now. You may as well make the most of it.”

Guide gratefully took the hand, and she pulled him up out of the honey with a surprising strength. He made to run a hand through his hair, realizing too late that his hand was still covered in honey and grimacing as he looked down at himself. It was going to take ages to get all of it off of him.

“Did you have to douse me in honey?” he asked.

Alalia glanced away, “...I panicked. It has very regenerative properties.”

“You? Panicking?”

“I-I was worried!” Alalia pouted. “Do not act like that! This is serious!”

Guide almost joked back regarding how he regularly made sarcastic remarks while facing death, but bit his lip--she wasn’t as desensitized to it as he was, he had to remember that. “Well...thank you. What can I do to repay you?”

Alalia’s shoulders sagged in relief. There was a moment of silence between them before a slight smile touched her lips. “Hm...if you want to repay us, you could stay long enough to have some tea with the two of us. I just hope you don’t prefer honey in your tea, as I believe Lunette used her whole supply.”

“Trust me,” Guide replied with a little lopsided grin, holding up a hand, “I have plenty to spare.”

[ambrosiaswhispers]

The Fate of the Last Saiyan Prince

The title is awful auspicious for such a short piece. I’ve never written in this fandom before but Vegeta and Bulma were one of my first ships EVER! I loved their dynamic and when I was watching Dragon Ball Super to help with my sanity I fell in love with these hotheads all over again.

This piece is more about Vegeta and his family then a traditional romantic piece. I love it though.

Inspired by Wanderer's Lullaby, Being Human, and all the DBZ and DBS I've been watching lately. I cried while writing it. I don't think this is exactly all cannon - I may have gotten some details wrong, but this is just my take on the situation. I've heard that he actually dies before she does, but these images wouldn't leave my head, so here we are. He refers to his daughter as Echalotte and Trunks calls her Bulla (blame subtitles) - I am aware she is Bra.

I really hope you enjoy the story - sad as it is. The ending I think makes it better.

The Fate of the Last Saiyan Prince

He landed on earth it had been years since he’d been home…home? He shook his head, when did this backwater, mud-ball become home? He could feign ignorance and pretend that he didn’t know when that had happened, but he wasn’t one to disillusion himself.

Hey Homeboy, loosen up!

He could still hear her clear as the moment she teased him to get his attention.

You need a shower.

He could still feel that finger pressing against his armor and remembered following her like some kind of lost puppy.

He landed at her grave, entombed with her parents, where it was proper. Her smiling image marking the vault, a moment frozen in time from shortly after their daughter was born. Trunks had picked out the photograph, he hadn’t been able to speak and Echalotte never left his side.

“Trunks – it’s a family name. I don’t really care what you think! You won’t even claim him you asshole!”

“Bulla – cutest name for the cutest girl. Like it? We can give her a Saiyan middle name if you want, Hun.”

His son had grown up and into his own after many years of being far too obnoxious. Trunks had taken an interest in the inner working of the technological empire he was heir too, learning alongside his grandfather and mother. He’d married Mai, and she was a good choice, they took over the company with ease. Trunks had a family of his own now, two kids and they all lived on the compound that had been Vegeta’s home for so many years. He was proud of Trunks, but his son took after his mother in so many ways.

His daughter was far more like him then he’d like to admit. He first saw it when she was six and was determined to be the best ballet dancer in her class, demanding to stay up past her bedtime to practice with a singular determination to reach her goal. When she was ten, her birthday party was in full swing and he observed her sneaking off by herself. He confronted her and she shrugged explaining that she didn’t really want all of the fuss, but it made Mamma happy so she’d acquiesced. His Echalotte…Bulla’s selflessness was from her mother, even if she displayed it more like him.

He could feel all of them in the house tonight, some kind of celebration was being prepared for, he could see all of the telltale signs. He focused until he found Echalotte’s ki and landed on the balcony outside the room. She was sitting in a zip-up shirt and lounge pants as she applied her make-up. She was the very image of her mother with her shortened blue hair.

“Hello, Father.” She smiled at him softly through the mirror’s reflection, then continued her task. “You missed all the excitement. The twins were born two months ago. I think you need to have a conversation with Trunks, before he and Mai repopulate the Saiyan race all on their own.”

He smirked and stepped into the room that had been Echalotte’s when she was growing up. “She survived having twins? I wouldn’t have given Mai that much credit.”

“Shenron may have been involved.” She flashed an identical smirk back at him. “Don’t tell her.”

He gave an agreeable sound and glanced around the room, before asking, “How is your son?”

“Reign is good. It’s been two years here since you’ve been home. He’s five and stronger than I originally expected. My experiment worked, I knew I could find a DNA combination in a human that would amply the Saiyan and not delude it.”

She had a mind like her mother sometimes, and her way of having a child had been a fight between them. He hadn’t approved of her DNA examination and artificial insemination. It was the first real fight he’d ever had with his daughter. It didn't help that she'd started her research right after they lost...

“I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“No, you aren’t. You wanted me to be wrong and you still want to know who his father is.” She put in her earrings and stood up, but kept some space between them. She was two inches taller than he was and she wasn’t trying to challenge him right now.

He waved his hand dismissively, “I want you to be happy. However it happened, it happened.”

There was a knock on the door followed by “mother” in Saiyan royal tongue.

“Enter.” Echalotte answered and a boy who was no less his own spitting image stepped into the room, his eyes lighting up.

“Grandfather! You’re here!” Reign started excitedly before remembering himself. “I’m excited to see you. I can’t sense your power-level.” He inclined his head to one side.

“I’m camouflaging it. Something you should have started training on.” Vegeta informed his grandson without any real malice in his tone.

The boy bowed his head, then looked to his mother as he tugged on his undone tie, “I need help.”

She motioned to the chair and the boy climbed up on it. “Watch me so you learn.” The boy’s eyes followed Echalotte’s slow even motions as she knotted the tie carefully. “There. Do not get dirty. The party is starting soon. Tell your Uncle that Grandfather is here.”

The boy nodded and dashed out of the room.

“You taught him?”

“Both tongues, of course, and I made an archive. The language will live on and anything else I can find. I’m going to be traveling after tonight’s announcement.”

“Announcement?”

“The party is to honor Mother, but I’m turning over my ownership of the company to Trunks. He’s always been like her then I was and he loves Caps Corp, even if he won’t admit it.” She slipped into the bathroom and he stepped back out onto the balcony.

He stared up at the stars and sighed heavily as he stretched out to feel all of the chaos on the grounds. Trunks was with Mai and all of their children and he was happy. Both of his children were happy and his grandchildren were powerful and had potential. She would have been so proud of them, no, she would have been vibrantly and obnoxiously elated to see how they’d grown up. She would have thrown a thousand ‘I-told-you-so’s about her parenting triumphs at him and he would have endured every one with hidden joy. What he wouldn’t give to hear her voice, smell her, just be in her presence again…

There was an ache that he’d never been able to shake since her death ten years ago. He just needed to see his family again, before he…

“Have you decided which star already?” If she hadn’t been the image of her mother before she certainly was now in the red dress she was wearing.

He felt a pain in his chest, he hadn’t wanted either of his children to know what he was planning, but he didn’t lie to them. He silently pointed.

His daughter let a low laugh pass through her painted lips, “It’s in the constellation for her zodiac. I can hear her now: I musta been too hot for ya, Babe.”

He allowed himself to chuckle, because she would have laughed and she would have said something like that. “Are you going to tell your brother?”

“No. It’s your choice. He’d try to stop you, it would be a fight, and then there would be nothing in these last memories but regrets.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Go change. Come with me to the party tonight. See your children and grandchildren shine. Hear her be honored. Then when you say goodbye no one will even flinch.”

He agreed and stepped into the room that he shared with her or so, so many years. He normally avoided it, but this was more like a goodbye than a visit. He found a suit that she’d forced him to wear and it still fit, slightly looser – he didn’t eat as well as he used to. He glanced at the pictures on the wall, no dust, but it looked as if nothing was touched like she could sweep in at any moment and tease him about his crooked tie. He straightened it as he noticed the pair of dark eyes watching him from the doorway.

“Come here, Reign.” He beckoned the boy. When his grandson got to him, Vegeta laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Make sure you always good take care of your mother. Be true to your clan.”

The boy nodded.

“Good. Now I should meet your new cousins.”

The party was everything he would have hated and he would have grumbled to her all night about being miserable. Tonight he simply and quietly watched everything unfold. He saw his son as a strong and capable business owner, but still sharp physically as Trunks had no trouble wrangling all four of his children and kept a close eye on Mai. They were happy, properly bonded mates: supportive but still challenging each other. His grandchildren: four boys and one girl, who had Trunks wrapped around her tiny finger already…He wished she could have seen them. She would have loved them. Could she see them? Maybe she could where she was on the other side.

He stayed until the party was over and the family was left alone on the lawn under the tent. Mai looked tired as she rocked the youngest boy, while Trunks held the little girl. The other children were starting to get sleepy when Reign asked Echalotte to sing to them. The song was low and sad about wanderer looking for his place in the world. He simply sat in the space with them, relishing the last moments he would ever get with them. There would be no reunions for him in the afterlife. There were too many dark stains in his past.

“Okay, well, we should get the rugrats to bed. Guys, say goodnight to your Aunt Bulla and your Grandfather.” Trunks rustled up the kids and they bid their ‘goodnights.’

“I can take them. Sit.” Mai waved him off and their oldest took the little girl from Trunks. “Always nice to see you, Vegeta.”

He nodded as she passed him with her children in tow. The three sat in silence for a long spell as Reign snored in the chair he’d fallen unconscious in.

“When did you fall in love with her?” Echalotte asked barely above a whisper.

“Bulla.” Trunk snipped, no doubt agitated that she was going to ruin the good mood they were all in with that question.

Normally, he would have reacted badly, even scoffed at the idea of rehashing the past, but not tonight. “It was after Cell.”

“There goes my fairytale backstory.” Trunk dared to joke.

“Quiet boy, you already knew I didn’t love her when you were conceived. It was weakness on my part and stupidity on hers. Why she ever…” His voice held none of his normal bite, but he folded his arms over his chest. “You were not a mistake. But she knew that long before I did. I was foolish and selfish when she told me. We were too stubborn and had no intention of changing for each other. After Cell was defeated; I was lost, but I wanted better for you then what that boy from the future had. She allowed me to be near you. You were the reason that I stayed and ultimately why I saw her as something other than a distraction, but…” He closed his eyes.

“You don’t…” Trunk started to interrupt.

“I’ll continue if I wish. Hold your tongue.”

His daughter chuckled.

“I realized I cared for you both and it was unnerving, unsettling, and I thought it made me weak. That’s why I surrendered myself to evil again. It was a mistake. One that I couldn’t believe that your mother ever forgave me for…she shouldn’t have.”

“She knew what you sacrificed for her and for me.” His son reminded him.

“It was pointless.”

“Not to us.”

Vegeta made an agreeable sound. “I didn’t show it often, but I did love her.”

“We know that.” His daughter assured him. “She never doubted it.”

A pair of cries rang out from the quiet of the house. “That's my cue, if I want to sleep in my own bed.” Trunk scrambled up and started towards the house.

As Trunks passed by him, Vegeta caught his eye, “I am proud of you, my son. Know that.”

The lavender haired man looked surprised but managed to respond evenly. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

Vegeta snorted and looked away, he couldn’t say anything more without it seeming suspicious.

Echalotte stood up and scooped up her son. “Walk with me, please.”  He nodded and followed her up the stairs, watching her tuck in her sleeping child.

They walked back onto the balcony of her room and he caught the scent of tears in the air. “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m trying to grieve like you’d want, but I think my human side is going to get the better of me. It’s all I can do to control my ki so Trunks doesn’t figure it out.” She leaned her shoulder against his for a moment, before moving away quickly.

He stepped back into her space and caught her face in his hands, “You are a good daughter. A blessing.”

She nodded and allowed him to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “No matter where you are sent in the beyond… I love you and that…That love travels with you. You are a warrior of the greatest strength and nobility.”

He kissed her forehead and left her on the balcony, hearing her controlled her sobs. He changed into the armor, the armor she’d made for him. He would die a warrior, not let age take him. He took off from the compound and glanced back and caught sight of Trunks on his balcony with one of the babies and heard Echalotte shakily singing a ballad that he’d taught her. He raised his fist and took off towards his destination.

.:.

The heat and the pain were long forgotten by the time he stood in front of the desk to learn what his fate would be.

The King shook his head. “You just can’t die without destroying yourself can you?”

Vegeta shrugged.

“I had a special place in Hell set-up for you.” The glorified paper pusher held up a small book, “All the crimes you committed…I made a separate book for you. I looked forward to reading it to you. All of the lives you took, the planets you destroyed, the cultures you ended, and the people you hurt…But it appears as though someone changed your fate.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused.

A mirror appeared to the left of the King and he explained. “Someone wished another fate for you.”

The image in the mirror was the dragon Shenron looming over his daughter. “What you ask is no easy feat and I’m inclined not to grant it.”

“It is my wish and you will…”

“Foolish daughter of a fallen, bloodstained prince of a lost people, you dare question me?!? Why should I bestow any grace to that warmonger?” The dragon snarled his voice booming, lightning illuminating the sky.

Echalotte narrowed her eyes, daring to rebuke the Eternal Dragon, instead of cowering. "Because he was not that man when he died. He was hero to the earth, to the universe, and to me! He was a good father and loving husband. He deserves to rest in peace with my mother. I want you to wipe the sins away from his soul so that he can be with my mother again. It’s the only place he ever found peace. It’s what he deserves! And you will grant this wish!"

Vegeta clenched his fists. What was that crazy girl doing? Was this happening now? Had it already happened?

The dragon growled, its tail lashing furiously, “Arrogant child! You are unwise to make such a wish then speak to me this way. If I so choose I could grant your wish by painting those sins on your soul. Condemn you to his true fate.”

She smiled fearlessly, “So do it. I would gladly bear it.”

That stupid girl! NO! You idiotic half-human whelp, too much pride like her…like her Saiyan father. Vegeta dropped to his knees. He could bear his sins, not... His fate should not befall her. NO! How…How could she….

The dragon was quiet for a long moment, “I will grant this wish without staining your soul, but I best not see you again haughty girl.”

“You will not.”

Vegeta pulled himself up onto his feet, drawing in nonexistent air that he no longer needed. She was safe. Too much like him and too much like her mother. It was a wonder that she hadn’t caused his death instead of that star.

“Your wish has been granted.” The orange light permeated the area and the dragon balls zipped away as the sky cleared.

“Did we save grandfather?” A younger Reign asked his mother as he looked up from where he’d been sitting at her feet.

She gathered him up in her arms."We did, but that’s our secret.”

“Grandfather was a prince?"

“He was a king, my son. Your grandfather was the last great king of the Saiyan race. And I will tell you all the stories about how he saved the world.”

“All abridged versions where he’s the hero instead of Goku?” Trunks called out as he approached. “Bulla, I can’t believe how reckless…I mean, I didn’t gather the dragon balls with you just to watch you condemn yours…”

“Quiet Princess Trunks, no whining when celebrating victory!” Echalotte barked, but her smile was her mother's delighted and triumphant grin and Reigned giggled.

“Not funny, Sis, really not funny.”

The imaged melted from the mirror and the mirror vanished.

They had…his children had saved him...He didn’t know how to feel about the situation. How to fathom it. They had known somehow that he was planning his death. They had prepared for it, but surely it couldn’t be that simple. Those sins couldn’t just vanish.

The King held up the small black book and black ink dripping out of it making a pool on the floor. “You see, you have a different fate awaiting you.” A door appeared to his left where the mirror had been, “Go.”

Vegeta had never been one to fear, but this…He gripped the handle his hand shaking.  The white light on the other side blinded him for a moment as he dared to take that first step…

.

.

.

“You jerk, you kept me waiting….Oh, I’m just kidding, shesh. Welcome home, my brave Prince.”

"Bulma...