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storiesofsvu · 5 months ago

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Communication Error

Alex Blake x reader warnings: mild language, hurt/comfort kinda, usual BAU type of situations and violence.

The BAU had been in San Antonio for nearly two weeks already, the team had been called in a little earlier than usual but the case was striking right from the start. You’d spent hours droning over case files, evidence, cold cases and every chance you seemed to get at the unsub he was always a step ahead of you. The final straw was when he broke pattern, kidnapping the daughter of his murder victims rather than leaving her at the scene.

Tensions were running high, press, locals and the upper brass all beating down on the BAU to figure things out quickly and safely. You’d been in close quarters all week, there was not a moment to be had to oneself as everyone was bunking with someone else and everyone was on edge. There had been far too little sleep, an overconsumption of caffeine and definitely not enough food.

It was safe to say everything about the situation was escalated.

It didn’t even matter that you happened to be working the case with your girlfriend, you and Alex had barely had a moment of peace and definitely not a moment of privacy since arriving and no one else on the team knew you were together. JJ and Garcia had been sharing a room up until a pipe burst in their bathroom on the first and now all four of you were crammed together in one dingy hotel room. You were ‘forced’ into sharing the same bed but your subconscious spent the entire time you managed to get sleep fighting itself in a reminder that you shouldn’t exactly be cuddling. Unable to properly communicate over the week lead to both of you being on edge and there was no relief of a little hand hold, a tender kiss pressed to the other’s temple in reassurance or soft ‘I love you’s’ in moments of need.

When you finally caught up with the unsub in a warehouse on the outskirts of town everyone was on high alert, vests on, guns at the ready and attempting to make a plan about what was going to go down. Garcia had found a back entrance into the warehouse, one that it seemed the unsub was unaware of and it was certain you would be going in through there to retain the element of surprise. Problem was it was only big enough for one person to finagle their way through.

“Wilson!” The local swat team leader called out and your head shot up.

“Yes sir?”

“I’m givin’ you the lead with this, you comfortable doing that?”

“Yes sir, of course.” You glanced over to Hotch, watching as his jaw tensed ever so lightly before giving you a once over and a trusting nod.

“Are you sure about that?” Alex suddenly asked and your brow furrowed at her, unsure if she was directing your question to you, Hotch or swat.

“I have complete confidence Wilson can do it.” Hotch replied, “I’d expect everyone on the team to trust my judgment.”

“This unsub is convoluted,” Alex continued, “he twists things around, he’s incredibly hard to read, and according to the profile he’s not afraid to take anyone out to get away.”

“And she knows all that.” Aaron nodded toward you and you returned the gesture while swat continued to fully suit you up.

“I just think that maybe a more experienced member of the team should be going in.” Alex protested and this time your head shot up to hers, a mixture of hurt and offended drawn across your face.

“Excuse me?”

“This guy, he’s duplicitous, he’ll talk riddles around you to draw your attention away from what he’s doing to get the jump on you.”

“Oh, so you’re not just doubting my ability to do my job, now you’re calling me stupid.”

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

“And for every second we stand out here while you berate me we’re wasting time and losing the opportunity to save that girl. I’m suited up, I know what I’m doing and last time I checked I didn’t need your vote of confidence to do my job.”

You glanced towards Hotch who simply stood his ground, nodding to you once again before you turned back to swat to get your ear piece put in and were quickly guided around the building. There was only a beat of silence before Alex spoke up again.

“Hotch I really think this is a bad idea. She’s the newest to the team, she’s barely worked three full cases, there’s been more paperwork than unsubs—”

“Blake.” He cut in, voice stern, “you’re out of line. Wilson has almost four years of hostage negotiation with NYPD under her belt, not only does she have a very good understanding of what she’s doing, she’s the best out of all of us to go in there. I wouldn’t even put my own skills above hers today. So you can either head back to the cars, or you can join us in having your team member’s back.”

Alex took a deep breath, sucking down any and all responses she had but Hotch didn’t miss the way her nostrils flared, her eyes tense as she bit her lip and shut up. Instead her hands went back to her hips, one already stationed ready over her gun as she tried to control the way her heart was hammering in her chest. While she certainly hadn’t known about your specific role with NYPD and was a little less worried about you being in there alone, she still didn’t want you getting hurt. You’d been in deep with this one, relating a little too much to the kidnapped victim and she was worried about what you might do to get her free. Now all she could do was wait.

She honestly wasn’t sure if it was the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears, or if there really was that much static over her earpiece. She could hear your hushed voice crackling through every so often as you cleared the first couple of rooms, making sure to check in with your team, she faintly heard something else and by the way Morgan’s eyes shot toward the warehouse she was certain you’d found the unsub. This was the part she hated the most, she wanted to be in there with you, or at least in your ear, guiding you through what could very much help you talk this guy down if your own tactics didn’t seem to be working. It was driving her insane that none of them could hear what you were saying, it was clear you had adjusted your radio to attempt to keep the audio button pressed down, pinched between your belt and hip but it still kept cutting in and out.

If you had asked, she could have sworn they were standing outside of that goddamn building all night, the anxiety coursing through her body causing her muscles to tense, nearly aching by the time Reid’s head shot up.

“She’s coming out!”

In reality it had been just over forty minutes. But those forty minutes had been absolutely agonizing as she prayed for your safety while still trying to focus enough to stay sharp and do her job.

The door to the warehouse booted open and the unsub was the first to appear, cuffs on his wrists, hands on his head. You had one hand sturdy on his shoulder while the other one was being clutched by the girl on your side. Swat hustled in, quickly taking the guy down to the ground while they did a more thorough search before escorting him to the car. The team relaxed, the tension surging through them finally beginning to melt away as you glanced around the lot, beginning to lead the girl over to them.

Somehow, you heard it first and your ears picked up that it was coming from behind you, a shot fired from the roof of the warehouse. There was a cacophony of yelling, screams and very sudden nearly panicked rush of movement. All you could think of was making sure that the girl made it out in one piece, shoving her in front of you as you nearly hit the ground, enveloping her in your embrace.

“GO!” Hotch’s yell was barely audible over your ringing ears, “Morgan take the back.”

Gusts of air raced passed either side of you and a rock must’ve been kicked up, your arm began to sting, pain beginning to prickle through your body. You heard another couple of shots ring through the night air and wrapped tighter around the girl.

“He’s running.” Alex’s voice was suddenly at your side, her hand gently resting on your shoulder and you were able to relax, your hand still tightly clutched in the girl’s.

“Then go!” You urged her, waving in the proper direction.

“You’re hit. I’m not going anywhere.” She insisted and the pain in your arm suddenly increased by a tenfold.

“I’m fine!” You assured her, glancing down to see the tear in your shirt, looking to the ground in front of you, you spotted the bullet, still in one piece and nearly as clean as it had come out of the gun.

“No you’re not. You’re bleeding.” Alex’s fingers delicately tugged at the fabric of your sleeve trying to get a better look at it.

“It’s barely a scrape! Go help the team.”

“I don’t care!” She nearly snapped back and when you finally looked up and caught her gaze there was a misting of tears in her eyes, “you are what’s important to me right now.”

“Okay.” You nodded softly, standing to your full height and scooping up the girl with your non injured side to carry on your hip over to the medics.

Alex couldn’t help herself, chewing on her fingernail as the paramedic urged you into the back of the ambulance for better lighting. She could feel her leg shaking and finally succumbed to the pressure, beginning to pace, her feet kicking at the gravel a welcomed distraction until the medic jumped down from the bus. Her head shot up, catching the moment you dropped down to sitting on the back of the rig, an orange juice in your non injured hand.

“You okay?” She asked timidly, approaching you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, gesturing toward the bandage on your arm, “just a graze, no stitches necessary.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huge breath, the relief flooding through her body all at once so intensely she had to drop down beside you and you were quick to catch her trembling hand in yours.

“Alex… I’m fine. We’re both fine. We’ve both seen and handled worse.”

She made a meek noise, avoiding your gaze as her fingers tapped a rhythm on her thigh and against your palm. A brief silence over took the back of the rig while she calmed herself and made an attempt at sorting her thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke, “I was out of line.” She risked a glance up at you, “please know that I have never and will never doubt your abilities, you’re incredible at what you do. I was just scared. I guess… I guess I was putting personal thoughts above professional ones, and I had no idea about you being a hostage negotiator.”

“It never came up.” You shrugged, “and I shouldn’t have snapped back either.” You smiled softly, squeezing at her hand, “it’s been such a long week, we’re all exhausted. And I know that’s no excuse…”

“Still a contributing factor.” She finally cracked a small smile and you laughed softly, leaning in to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“How did two people with careers built on clear and concise communication skills end up sucking at it when it comes to outside of work?” You asked with a laugh, pulling one from Alex.

“I don’t know.” She softly squeezed your hand, “it’s something to work on.” Her hand wrapped around you, pulling your head to her so she could leave a tender kiss on your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sound of a boot on gravel broke through your little happy moment and both of your heads shot up to find Hotch standing in front of you, a brow raised in your direction.

“If you’d like you can keep pretending the entire team didn’t already know, but in the future I’d hope it doesn’t affect any of our cases.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sorry sir.”

“And I expect that paperwork on my desk by the time we land.” He eyed you for a moment before his lips split into a small smile, “good work today Wilson. I’m glad you have someone like Blake to have your back, even if she does get a bit pushy at times.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your mouth as Alex let out a scoff, Hotch turning away with a gleam in his eye.

_____________

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#alex blake #alex blake x reader #criminal minds #communication error #alex blake x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #alex blake one shot

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syneilesis · 1 year ago

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[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lad rafayel #lad qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace qi yu #fic #my fic #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #lad rafayel x reader #lad qi yu x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace spoilers #it's near midnight again i shall now sleep

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cabinetofquriosities · 2 months ago

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Sea of Love

Agatha x Rio || Warnings: extreme fluffiness and smut

Leave a review on Ao3!

(Listen along while reading)

Full playlist

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Once she helped Billy find his brother, Agatha decided to take time on her own to figure out her after life. She wasn’t ready to leave the Earth behind. Not only because she was afraid to face Nicky, but also because she was finally allowing herself to exist outside of anger and fear. She wanted to be a better person once she truly passed. In the meantime, she had more to do.

The first on her list of priorities was the very woman she had run from for centuries. After had finally coming to her senses and forgiving her, she was not about to spend any more time apart.

Rio had shown up to a house in the woods where they first met after being given a note by Billy saying Agatha had left something behind for her. She had been mourning Agatha, wondering if she had truly crossed over.

She couldn’t find her in the underworld and she feared she was beyond her reach the way that Nicky was. She was supposed to be reunited with Nicky once Agatha crossed over, allowing his return only with the presence of both of his parents in a cosmic curse to her. It was Rio’s punishment for letting Nicky live that she wouldn’t see him in the afterlife until Agatha followed. When Agatha began outrunning her, she was unknowingly depriving Rio of Nicky as well. Now, Agatha was dead, Nicky was still gone, and Rio had no family left. She felt utterly betrayed by the sacred balance, by the authority she had served her entire existence.

It felt like Agatha was still around, but she convinced herself that she was losing her senses to grief the way that so many others did. She couldn’t be a hypocrite. She had to face her loss the way that so many others had. She had done it with Nicky and now she had to do it with Agatha. She had to feel what it was like to be on the other side of this.

The house was a mid-century beauty. It was wooden with red and orange stained glass. It was familiar.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding a familiar outfit waiting for her in the entry way. She stripped down with a small smile before slipping on the diamond coated black lace.

Looking around, she saw the house from the Witch’s road where she reconnected with Agatha. Where Agatha had rejected her. She wondered if this was the gift of a memory from her beloved or a last twist of the knife.

She looked into the mirror, looking over her outfit with the plunging neckline. She was in the same exact position that Agatha was in when Rio had leaned in and said-

“Boo.”

Rio jumped out of her skin as the cool puff of a ghost’s breath brushed against the back of her neck. She whipped around to find Agatha in the same outfit from that night. She looked stunned in a way she rarely was and stumbled back.

“Careful…” Agatha said, taking her hand to steady her.

“You’re dead,” Rio said, feeling her ice cold fingers and seeing the slight glow emanating from her.

“And now I’m-“

“A FUCKING GHOST?!” Rio spat out, “Great. Of course. My ex wife found the one thing that would piss me off the most…”

“What is your issue with ghosts?” Agatha asked, crossing her arms.

“They are completely out of line with the natural order of things!”

“Oh, whatever,” she said, waving away the idea of the universal life cycle, “Hell… or wherever I’m going… can wait.”

Rio rolled her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t let Agatha be pulled under. She had a place by her side carved out in the afterlife she had managed to find enough loopholes to secure it so long as Agatha kept a low profile there. A cottage modeled after the one they had before everything had fallen apart. There, the two of them would be able to be together again with their son. However, she never expected her to draw it out this long.

“Agatha… If you just cross over… I would never allow you to be punished for anything you have done on Earth. I have a hidden place for you. Okay? You don’t have to be afraid of that.”

Rio wanted to tempt her to the other side, but wouldn’t use the cottage or their son to do that.

“While I appreciate all of that, truly, I’m not ready to be confined to a hidden alcove in the underworld. Not yet. One day, once I make a better mark here, I will.”

Rio sighed, hissing through gritted teeth. This woman would never stop driving her crazy. It would be better to wait for her to finish things out and voluntarily come rather than crossing over now and wreaking havoc out of restlessness. Or, even worse, refusing to see Nicky. She wanted them to be a family again in the underworld, but only if all parties were ready. She wanted it to last forever.

If anything, Agatha making things right on Earth would make it easier to keep her by her side without hiding her once she reached the afterlife. She would never be able to cleanse herself completely of all she had done, but she could do enough good to even the scales. A balanced conscience would allow her to stay within the rules of the sacred balance once she was finally taken to Rio’s side of existence.

“Fine. I will not… interfere,” Rio said with pure exasperation.

“Thank you,” Agatha said honestly, holding her hand in hers.

“So… you’ve already learned how to be corporeal. I can feel your touch,” Rio said, brushing her thumb over the back of her hand.

“I’ve always been a-“

“Quick study. I know,” Rio said with a wistful smile.

“Come on,” she said with a pout, her voice dropping low, “You don’t want to stay angry with me…”

Rio’s heart raced the way it always did when she took that tone. She smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Suddenly, Sea of Love began playing over the speakers. Agatha draped her arms across her shoulders, gazing into her eyes.

Rio knew she had no hope of holding a grudge when they began to dance. She rested her hands on Agatha’s waist and pulled her close. She hoped against hope that this was their new beginning, their new chance. For once, she believed that things would be better.

“Is this us now?” Rio asked softly.

“What do you mean?” Agatha asked, tilting her head.

“Are we…” only Agatha could cause Death to be tongue tied, “Is this our relationship now? Are we together?”

Rio didn’t want to put her heart out there again to have it shattered. Agatha’s lips relaxed into a smile.

“Yes, Rio. We are.”

“Good,” she said, blushing at her own trepidation.

“An unbelievably powerful celestial being who can’t believe that someone would stay with them? Now I’ve seen it all.”

“You didn’t want me before…”

A veil of sadness fell over Agatha’s face. She regretted every cruel act she had done to Rio. She understood why she treated her that way after Nicky, but it didn’t make it any better. She cradled her cheek with one of her hands.

“I always wanted you,” Agatha said, “I was just… I wanted someone to blame. It wasn’t fair to you. But I never stopped loving you. You are the only woman who has ever had my heart. You still have it. You will always have it.”

Rio’s eyes welled with unshed tears.

“I felt so alone in the world without you,” Agatha said in a shameful whisper.

“You won’t ever be alone again,” Rio said, blinking out tears that Agatha wiped away while her own rolled down her cheeks.

“Why does this feel like we’re renewing our vows?” Agatha joked, sniffing.

“Because we just did.”

“At least we didn’t need the ‘Until death do you part’ line in there.”

“I always thought it was strange in today’s society that marriage had to end at death.”

“Agreed. A serious commitment issue. You’re stuck with me forever,” Agatha said.

“Good,” she said, leaning in.

Rio closed the space between them. She locked their lips in a kiss, tightening her arms around her waist. Their body temperatures were finally at the same level. Death and the dead.

Agatha licked the inside of Rio’s mouth, tasting her. She cupped her chin and pulled back, looking into her eyes. Rio’s pupils were blown out, her lipstick smudged.

“Let me take care of you,” she breathed, putting a hand on Rio’s chest.

She guided her back onto the couch, pushing Rio and forcing her to sit. Rio opened her legs before realizing she was wearing a body suit. She sighed, scrambling to take it off. Agatha took her hand and shook her head. Rio tilted hers in confusion.

Agatha suddenly turned more translucent, her ghostly form melding with Rio’s. She filled her lover’s body with her own consciousness, moving for her. She undid her bodysuit, slipping it off. Rio gasped as Agatha slid her hands over her own body.

Agatha rose from Rio’s form, looking down at her. Rio’s heart was racing from the intense experience of being possessed. She smiled up at her.

“Let me see… what new things I can do to you…”

She reached down, her hand disappearing into her abdomen. Her energy spread throughout Rio’s body, reaching through every nerve. With one flick of her hand, the other woman arched up, shaking violently from the all consuming pleasure. Agatha moaned along with her, able to feel whatever she felt. They were connected in ways she hadn’t felt before.

She wiggled her fingers, making them both tremble. Rio felt arousal rush from the pit of her to her cunt. Agatha’s touch forced her body to ungulate. She turned her onto her front, bending her over the couch. Rio gasped and rutted against the cushion.

Agatha’s lips brushed against her ear. She was swept away by the pleasure they shared, sinking further into the woman squirming below her.

“Fuck… mmm… Do you feel me?” She whispered.

“Yes…” Rio gasped, “More than I ever have.”

Rio thrust her hips over the cushion, gasping and grinding like a feral animal. Agatha hummed, surging through her until Rio’s body finally seized, her climax washing over her and Agatha alike. The two of them cried out, cumming together. Agatha slid her hand out of her, becoming corporeal again. She wrapped her arms around Rio from behind her. The two caught their breath and languished in the comfort of the other.

“That was incredible,” Rio breathed.

“It really was.”

Enough time passed and they were able to get up. Rio stood on shaky legs before sitting on the couch. Agatha joined her, sitting on her lap and nuzzling herself into the crook of her neck.

“The dead have better sex. Who knew,” Agatha said with a satisfied smile.

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If you enjoyed this story, please reblog it!

Thank you for reading ♥️

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #rio vidal #agatha x rio #marvel #lgbtq #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #agathario fanfic #playlist fic #sea of love #cat power #sapphic #Spotify

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lady-quen · 3 months ago

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Character inspiration meme!

[tagged: not tagged, saw people doing this on dash again since I follow lots of roleplay blogs haha decided to do this for my only proper OC]

[tagging: @ambalambs , @hexenjagd , @cursedfortune , @rostomanologist , @commander-wame , @missbadafker (for any of your characters!), @lyhil , @harukehn (hii I like your plants... I am tagging you both if that's okay :) @scribesofcalamity I want! 👏 to know 👏 the cool inspos!!! Also I'd tag all the pretty plants in the fandom but I'm not sure who likes dash games ^^, so if you see this and feel like doing it, you're ON! Feel free to say I tagged you!]

Also you know I had to do it to him (choose this as his profile picture)

Anyway! Explanations go:

1 - Bloodborne - Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower - largely self-explanatory. I would have exchanged her for Genshin's Raiden Shogun for the more accurate "draws swords from own body" visual, BUT the fun part is I actually didn't know she did that. So the Baal sword and Mael's solid shadow weapons are a complete coincidence 💀

Furthermore, Lady Maria's general aesthetic influenced my own design a good deal. Sadly, necromancers can't wear medium armor.

2 - Hollow Knight - God of Gods/Shade Lord - just the vibes for his Shroud... or is it something more? :P I guess we shall see once I iron out some plot points. Some people might know because I rant in DMs. Devouring darkness my beloved. Inspiration for a potential "corrupted form" for a fractal where the story went really wrong.

3 - Norse Mythology - Fenrir - core inspiration. Chain/binding motif, being something dangerous, even to gods. Power that needs suppressing. Everlasting hunger, being the doomed being with the potential to doom others in return. A... specific relationship with the sun. A certain someone losing a hand within the mouth of the beast.

His swords are named Dromi and Lædingr after the first two chains that bound Fenrir. He's currently looking for a way to devise a "perfect spell" to allow complete control over his volatile magic and stop the demon essence from further warping his body and affecting his mind - that spell, or perhaps item, being Gleipnir.

4 - Tower of God - Khun Aguero Agnes - personality and mannerisms inspiration, particularly post-The Departing. "The Commander when he locks the fuck in." Devilishly intelligent and not afraid to utilize underhanded methods, but ultimately a good person. A true silver tongue. Moderately to severely grumpy at times. Dramatic flair. Gay boy rizz.

5 - Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress - Ikoma - the survivor. Undead but won't take the L and keeps on going no matter what. Self-engineered restraints to keep his affliction under control, dog motif, being willing to do terrible things to his own body simply to stop himself becoming a monster. A heart replaced by a core.

6 - Legend of Vox Machina - Percy de Rolo - I have actually not watched this show yet (I really damn need to) the visuals, the gunplay, the demonic possession and those deep black eyes with yellow irises? Checks out. I made Mael in 2014, so, again, coincidence, but it's a really good-looking coincidence :-)

Also, template below cut!

#dash game #character inspiration meme #About the Commander #quen's ocs #Maelmordha

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cyten0 · 4 months ago

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A Symphony in Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 8

✸ “Welcome back stardust! So, how can I help you this time?”

✦ “Hm… Let’s see… So, I assume you saw the chat with the king?”

✸ “Of course! Always keeping an eye on things~ Sadly, I’m afraid I’m drawing a bit of a blank on anything about Wishcraft! Well, besides that term.”

Ugh, just talking about it hurts your head a bit. But it’s critical information, so you endure.

✦ “Right. I guess it’s a way to… Craft wishes? But that’s about it. Harder I try, more it pushes back.”

✸ “Right, so that just leaves either seeing if we can’t spark that memory somehow, or find information on it! Both seem tricky, but not impossible~”

✦ “Guess talking more with the king could help with that first angle. He wants to remember for his own reasons.”

✸ “True! Just make sure he doesn’t find out about you! Wouldn’t want him dropping your secret, now would we?”

✦ “I’ll be careful. Oh, on a side note, you mentioned something strange earlier?”

✸ “Yes! Thank you for remembering~ So far, you’ve looped for two reasons. Dying, or talking to the head Housemaiden. Until just a bit ago! When Odile found you, You didn’t die.”

Huh?!? Wait, they're right, you didn’t!

✸ “Once is an outlier, twice is something to investigate! If death isn’t the only reason you loop, then finding out the other reason, or reasons, seems rather important, wouldn’t you agree? It’s just a theory right now though, so if you have any ideas...”

Wait, there was one other point that almost was one, you think.

✦ “When Isa confronted me, I nearly looped that way too.”

✸ “Oh! Now isn’t THAT some juicy data! Hm… Well, The Head Housemaiden doesn’t seem like she found you out, but it’s worth keeping an eye on. I’ll keep theorycrafting and see if I have any ideas. Meanwhile, feel free to help your friends! Who knows, just might do something!”

Right! Your looking forwards to that! Might as well use these loops to do something nice!

You grab a meal from loop, grabbing the powerful duo from the second floor to get yourself a little extra. Stars you're so hungry you devoured it in seconds and it’s not enough it’s never enough-

Stop. Clear your head. Breathe. And head out.

>>>

Right! Mirabelle. She should be first, given she kinda started this whole thing. You greet her, talk for a bit, and then-

✦ “So, which will you choose?”

You point to the pile of papers, to clarify.

◉ “Wha- WHAT?!?!?!!!! HOW! WHAT DO YOU KNOW!??? ANSWER ME!!!!!”

!!! She has her hand on her rapier!!! She’s going to- QUICK!!!!!

✦ “Y-your choosing someone for something, right?! It seems important, maybe I can help?”

She pauses, and pulls her hand from her rapier. Oh thank goodness. You never thought she’d pull a sword on you unless she found you out! All your survival instincts flared up, you're glad you kept calm!

◉ “I...I guess… You most likely have more experience then I do. Alright, I’d like your help, if you’ll give it.”

Hm? Experience? Uh oh, now your worried! What if it’s something Siffrin is good at that you can’t mimic?

You guess you’ll just have to improvise if it is, and hope for the best.

✦ “Sure!”

◉ “Okay, but this might take some time!! So, Um…”

✦ “Don’t worry, I have time!”

Honestly too much time… And too little… You feel your stomach ache... Ignore it, you have time. You can eat at the bathrooms later, and that will help. This is important.

You take a seat next to Mira. She looks nervous. Hm… You're not good with stuff like this. Um. Maybe. Asking a question will help?

✦ “So… What are those papers?”

◉ “Oh! Um…. Their… Bonding proposals?”

!?! Wait, you remember bonding, you saw a thing about that earlier! It’s… Kinda like Marriage? You're not quite sure of the nuances of... either of those really? So, does that mean Mira’s looking for a partner?

◉ “NO WAIT THAT’S NOT EXACTLY IT PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!! ...It’s… more like dating profiles? I-I’m not looking to be bonded just yet.”

Oh, Okay that makes more sense! Dating is still not your forte, it kinda confuses you, but it wasn’t really Siffrin’s strong suit either so you're not too worried!

You like the idea enough you’ve looked into it, sort of a false hope, but you should be able to help a little? Maybe? Still you're a little surprised Mirabelle is interested in that. She never seemed to care before?

◉ “Okay so… Before all this started with the king… I decided I wanted to, uh, try! To date someone. So I asked a company that does that sort of thing, and they sent a bunch of profiles, for people I could date…"

◉ “I haven't gone through them yet, and I figured now would be a good time. Keep my mind off tomorrow! But, I could use a second pair of eyes. Or just the one eye. As long as it’s not my eyes doing this alone!”

Right. Hm. You have no idea what Mirabelle is into, and she seems to be struggling as well... So, time to do testing! Scientific method, just like Siffrin! Just gauge her reactions, respond in ways to probe for more information, and go from there! You’ve got this Siffrin!

✦ “Alright, let’s take a look, see if we can’t figure this out.”

She pulls out a HUGE folder, and hands it to you.

◉ “Ok! Here’s a few of them, we can take turns! You can go first, and I’ll go after. So uh… Here!”

She grabs a profile of a big buff masculine figure. Plenty of muscle, probably very tast- WOW Okay you need to focus.

Hm. She seems to be the same mount of nervous as before, so not a big reaction. Let’s see…

✦ “Kinda looks like Isa.”

◉ “...Ew yeah, nevermind.”

That Ew kinda boggles your mind, but oh well, she’s got her own preferences. So perhaps not into more masculine types. Hm…

✦ “Well, let’s try someone more effeminate, see if that works. What do you have?”

She shuffles some papers around and hands you a lovely gentle lady. Likely tender and- Focus. Hm…

✦ “Kinda looks like you.”

◉ “...You're right, Ew.”

Again with the Ew? You don’t have much to work with here. You might have to get a bit more blatant.

✦ “Any ideas what kind of person your into?”

◉ “Oh I don’t have a type, I love all people equally!”

✦ “...That’s… Not much to work with…”

◉ “I um… would like someone… Nice?……. And…. Pretty?…….and….. Who… likes me?”

✦ “……. Mira.”

◉ “Nononono let me think a bit more!!!…. I…. want…. Someone who……”

She thinks for a while.

◉ “W-Well, what are you into?”

OH STARS you are NOT getting into that! You have no idea if Siffrin had any interest, and yours are EXTREMELY weird and messed up!!

HONESTLY, why does your brain mix up attraction and TASTE together?!? It doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes if one's high enough it can add to the other, Isabeau being prime example! And that is just NOT OKAY!!!

And past dating you have no idea! You’ve specifically avoided any form of dating because of it, you are NOT telling her that, what would she even do with-?

… Wait a second.

✦ “Wait. Are you just going to copy my answers?”

◉ “I-! Um!…. Okay. You got me. I… Really don’t care about dating.”

Fantastic. Well that solves that issue you guess, but then?

✦ “Then why are you worrying about it?”

◉ “…… So…. Siffrin. You know the Change belief means a lot to me… It’s all about changing, becoming better, and most importantly… trying new things. It’s why the house offers so many different classes, you know?…

◉ “So… I’m trying something new! Sometimes, doing that is something fulfilling, and easy, but you can’t just do that kind of stuff forever. That won’t help you change much. Sometimes you have to do things that are scary, or make you… Uncomfortable… Things you don’t want to do at all.”

… You know that when she faces the king, she’s committed to accepting the bad of life as well as the good. But. If she doesn’t like this that much, it seems unnecessary?

✦ “And… Dating is a part of that?”

◉ “Yes! Romantic love is supposed to be the biggest way to change! It’s supposed to change you, give new experiences and…

◉ “And I have to, right? To be a good Housemaiden? I have to bond with them, I have to do things with them, I have to get bonded and have children and love them in this specific way and… and…”

✦ “And it’s not working…”

Like woodcarving, like crafts, like talking, like your body under your skin, like the small details of your face and body, like the gnawing hung̷̯͝er always clawi̵̻̿ng at ẙ̶͈our b̶̡͊ody̸̪͌ and mi̶̯̊n̷͓̄d!

... You understand that feeling more then you’d care to admit.

◉ “...And it’s not working… I can’t, Siffrin, I just can’t! I can’t get myself to feel right about it, no matter how hard I try! I don’t want to do any of it, but I need to do this right? To change..”

...But… The idea of this being so needed for this faith…

You remember the Keyknife. How even YOU were accepted. Believed in. By the Change god themselves...

No. You aren’t okay with this. You don’t care if it’s what the faith said, it shouldn’t! If even Siffrin wouldn’t feel welcomed by this, then…

✦ “...Do you think the change belief is unaccepting? Of anyone?”

◉ “h-HUH?!?”

✦ “I don’t know about the romance, but I’ve never cared about doing things with people.”

Siffrin wasn’t, and right now you're speaking for them. And while you aren’t good evidence, you don’t think you’d want to either, probably.

✦ “There must be a bunch of people who don’t. The change belief should accept that! Because if any part of being alive isn’t allowed then… What’s the point?

✦ “That’s… Something I really like about it. That anyone, and everyone, is accepted.”

...She’s looking at you in surprise. Oh! You just realized you kinda just tried to argue faith to a Housemaiden! Um!

✦ “A-At least that’s what my thoughts are. I get it’s complicated a-and messy but…”

◉ “Y-You mean it? I… I wasn’t even sure there were others like me at all! With how much pressure gets put on us Housemaidens to do that, I… The fact that someone understands at least that!”

You nod in agreement. The relief is plain on her face, before being swallowed up by more anxieties.

◉ “...But. Still, there’s pressure to change in every way you can. I mean, we have yearly festivals for showing yourself as a new person!! Every Housemaiden has changed at least once!"

◉ “Except me. I... I find comfort in being myself! And we really are encouraged to change in EVERY way, from clothing to hairstyles to bodies to personalities and… and… Sometimes I wonder if the Change god understands that sometimes, I’d like just just stay the same…”

...You had no idea Mira thought this way about the change belief… If only you knew what to tell her… Something stirs at the back of your mind.

✦ “...This might seem a bit… weird… to say. But someone once told me… That if..."

That if...

✦ “That If everything changes, nothing really does.”

Mirabelle looks at you in confusion. Stars, it hurts your head to remember this, so much more then normal, but…

✦ “In order for a change to matter, it has to make a difference. Otherwise, it’s barely a change at all. But if everything changes, then it makes no difference how much it changes. And…”

In the end…

✦ “In the end, we are always ourselves.”

You release the memory. The pain subsides. But. You think the words were worth it. Whoever said them. Thank you.

◉ “… That… I’ve never heard that angle before. To make change better by keeping some parts the same? It feels so far away from what we're taught, but... Hm.”

She smiles at you.

◉ “I like it! Hehe! It. It feels like whoever said it understood change really well."

A wave of relief washes over her again, even while she smiles.

◉ “I guess... maybe I can let some things stay. To make the parts I do change matter more. I’ll just… have to make up for it!”

✦ “I’m sure you will. Besides, Less things to change just means you can focus more on what you do! Sounds like fun.”

◉ “hehe! I guess your right!"

She looks you over again, a question on her mind.

◉ “…... Siffrin, do you have… Something like this? Something that makes you happy, but also that you struggle with?”

… Humanity.

It’s hard, playing this part. Putting yourself back together in the right shape. Maintaining it just right so it never looks uncanny. Figuring out what people mean when they say things. Trying to figure out their emotions. Making sure you're expressing your own correctly...

But every time they look at you as a friend, it’s worth the effort. Every single moment.

✦ “...Yeah. But. I’m glad I stuck with it. I wouldn’t have met you all if I didn’t.”

◉ “Oh! Do you want to talk about it?”

You can’t tell her it all but…

✦ “Just. Talking to people. It’s always been a bit tricky for me, but. I’m glad I’ve kept trying. It would have been very lonely without you all.”

◉ “Really? A bit like me too, huh! Well, I’m glad we met you too… Thank you, Siffrin. Thank you, for talking to me.”

You nod, and both just kind of sit there for a half second. Before she notices the time on the clocktower

◉ “Oh, wow, look how long it’s been! Sorry, You probably had other things to do, didn’t you? Don’t let me keep you any more!... I could stand a little alone time. I have a lot to think about!…. I’ll see you later, OK?”

You nod, and head off. You're so glad you did that. It felt nice, to get some of that off your chest… And that memory… You felt something warm from it… You're glad you got to have it, even if just for a second.

...A-Anyways, you should go help Odile next! That book seemed important to her.

>>>

It was quite a mess getting this book! You were half tempted to bite a few people on the way, for more then a few reasons.

But here you are! Odile found this nice clearing to read in, which you're happy about, less smells to worry about. But. She’s just looking at it while closed?

✦ “Aren’t you going to read it?”

◆ “… They said I could have it until we had to leave Dormont, so I have time, but…”

She just continues to stare at it… It clearly matters a lot to her. But it’s intimidating as well, you suppose? That must be why she’s hesitating.

Hm. Time to deploy the old reliable for diffusion! Jokes! And the most reliable joke for something Odile being focused on something is...

✦ “Is it related to your research?”

◆ “… Sorry, What?”

✦ “Is the book related to your research?”

She gives you this look of contemplation…. Wait, it wouldn’t actually be, right? Not something this mundane?

Hm... Well you guess it’s working so… Success?

◆ “Ah, well… I suppose I’ve kept it secret long enough. Don’t tell Isabeau, alright?”

You nod.

If she’s willing to tell you now, you figure you have a pretty good idea what it is. Had your suspicion it was either highly dangerous and secretive, or….

◆ “There is no research. I’m not researching anything.”

✦ “Heh, knew it.”

◆ “Really? You figured it out?”

✦ “Kinda. A normal researcher wouldn’t be able to resist talking about it otherwise. It was either top secret, or you were making it up.”

◆ “Clever. But yes, when Isabeau suggested I was here to research something, I figured it would be easier to just play along.”

✦ “Huh, yeah, that does leave the question. If not to do research then…”

◆ “Why leave Ka Bue and travel for years? Well… I’m here in Vaugarde, to find out more about myself, I suppose… It must not be very obvious to you, but… My mother was Vaugardian.”

Oh!

◆ “I’ve lived my whole life in Ka Bue. My father was Ka Buan, my mother Vaugardian. I have no idea how they met, he never told me, but all I know is she never wanted a child. She left very early on, and I never saw her again. Good riddance, as far as I’m concerned.

◆ “But… she didn’t leave anything behind. Not a single thing. It was alright, my father was a good man and raised me well. Ka Bue was my home.”

Nothing left huh. You understand that. Painfully well. There’s nothing to get back, no matter how hard you try. And it stings you, every single time you notice something missing.

◆ “But one day, a Vaugardian merchant came by, and I saw a book that she wouldn’t sell. A familytale. And she explained what they were. Stories of generations of family members, recorded for their descendants."

◆ “And halfway through, I found out I was crying. I never knew I cared about my other side till then but. I knew. I wanted it. That connection to a history that should have been mine. But was stolen from me. And I’d never have a link to it, ever.”

✦ “Unless you chose to make one.”

You made your link to there. Carved it into your body with your own bare hands. Hoarded what little pieces drifted up in your wake. Held tightly to every memory you could scrounge…

Oh. She looks at you a little surprised!

◆ “I… Yes. The king took over shortly before I arrived, which made things difficult. But While traveling with you all, I got to see more and more of Vaugarde. Got to learn more about the country, the people, it’s faith…"

◆ “And. Half of me is from here. It should be like looking in a mirror but… I felt no connection. It feels awful. Like I should have a place here, and I don’t. My roots were cut without my consent. Like I don’t belong anywhere.”

… Not belonging anywhere… You get that… You nod at her, in understanding.

◆ “But… I found that’s okay. I’m not the only one. Vaugarde is filled with people from other lands. Sure, my features may look off in Ka Bue, but no one minds here. I’m still other, but I am accepted none the less. And have found many who are in similar positions. And I’m very grateful for that.”

She’s lucky. To be able to see that herself. You sometimes wish you could go there, but… Even thinking about trying hurts.

◆ “What about you, Siffrin? Are you learning more about yourself here? It’s alright if you’d rather not tell.”

✦ “… No. And… Yes.”

She gives you an odd look?

✦ “I don’t have ties to Vaugarde like you. But. I do have a place I’m trying to connect to. It’s just. There’s nothing left of it. Just scraps.”

◆ “Nothing left?”

✦ “The island to the North…”

She pauses for a moment, contemplating, before she stops in realization.

◆ “Ah, I see…. that… Oh gems. I can’t even imagine…. At least I still have Ka Bue…..”

A memory surfaces. Something that means something important here. Something you didn’t even realize has been helping you, even as it hurts your head to remember.

✦ “Someone once told me…"

✦ “We tell people who we are with our actions. The rest doesn’t matter in the end.”

She looks at you, surprised.

✦ “If I keep moving, It gives my history some life. What pieces I have might inform my choices, but… It’s what we do that matters the most in the end. And… Traveling through Vaugarde. I might have only learned tiny pieces about my home. Scant scraps I could dig up or barely remember."

She nods, a grim understanding on her face.

✦ “But… We’ve done so much. With each other, with others, with the very places we’ve gone. I’ve left my mark. Even if my home isn’t remembered, I might be. And in making that path, I got to rediscover myself. So in some way, in Vaugarde, in traveling, I learned more about who I am then I could have anywhere else.”

You played the part of Siffrin so long, you started to learn more about how they would act. What mattered to them. And even if sometimes the differences feel glaring, you still cherish what bits of them you’ve kept alive, even if it’s just how their memories affected your own path…

You notice she’s just looking at you. And starts to chuckle.

◆ “I guess in a way, you came to the same conclusion I did, hm? Different route, different words, different methods. But. Yes. Where you're from doesn’t determine who you are. It’s who YOU are that matters most."

◆ “To be fair, It does matter, but mainly in how they’ve formed you. I might be both Ka Buan and Vaugardian, but in the end, I am myself. And that matters far more then anything else.”

You nod. You're glad Odile is who they are. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

◆ “Hehe… I feel so much lighter now.”

✦ “Glad to find that familytale, huh?”

◆ “Maybe. But more then that, I’m glad we talked... Thank you. For listening to me. And finally opening up."

◆ “It’s funny, finding out how similar we are, yet how different as well. It’s nice to know you a little more. Maybe some point, I’ll help you a little finding out about your own roots?”

You nod, and smile. It felt good to talk about that. Even just a little.

◆ “… Now get out of here! I have a familytale to read before we meet up for our sleepover!”

You chuckle a little, and head off.

Okay. Time to help Bonnie!

>>>

Okay, so you got the foods right, and Bonnie brought you out of Dormont to help them. But. Why? And Why towards the castle? What do they need out here?

✿ “….Frin you… You said I could ask for anything, yeah?”

Right… You're getting more worried by the second. But. You’re sure you can handle it.

✦ “Of course! Whatever you need!”

✿ “Okay, well…. I-I need you to teach me how to fight!”

OH! Uh! Okay! That’s, Uh!

✿ “I know Dile’s gonna say I can help tomorrow, but It’ll be from far away, right? I wanna help! To actually help!!! And… for that I’m gonna need to fight! And you're gonna help me!”

Stars okay you don’t know how- How are you- this is-

WAIT NO they're running towards a sadness!!! You start moving as fast as you can!

✿ “L-Look, I’m not scared! COME ON!!!”

Bonnie starts muttering under their breath, you're still trying to close the distance!!! The sadness strikes! Before it can deal any real damage you tackle into it, and crush its throat under your bare hands!!!! BLINDING-

✦ “WHAT WE̸̺͑RE YOU THIṈ̴̎KING???̸̤̅?”

You instantly get to healing the wound, you can smell the blood in the air, it’s driving you mad, you hate hate hate hate smelling that it gives you all the worst thoughts, especially from Bonnie, and you are NOT having any of that, what were they blinding thinking-

✿ “i-i’m sorry.”

...They're shaking, and scared. You… You probably shouldn’t have yelled like that. You make sure the injury is fully healed first, so you can have a clear head.

✦ “...Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled, but…”

Oh okay softer voice isn’t helping enough, they're still shaking. Maybe…

✦ “Breathe with me?”

They nod, and you both begin to breathe, in and out. In. And. Out…. The smell of blood is gone, Bonnie doesn’t feel like a scared animal. It’s fine.

✦ “...Ok… I’m willing to teach you, but you need to not rush ahead. Otherwise I can’t keep you safe, alright?”

✿ “O-Okay. I’ll listen. Teach me.”

Alright. That’s better. Step one... there’s another sadness nearby. Hm. To properly train, You need to make it so that it feels like a real fight, but remove the danger…

You have an idea. The king has some control over the sadnesses, so this should be believable, if you're careful. It’s also not nearly as effective on sadnesses as it is living beings, but it should be enough to force it to pull it’s punches.

✦ “Alright. I’m going to go to that sadness over there, and use a very special craft skill. It’ll let me have a little control over it, so we can fight it safely.”

✿ “Wait you can do that?”

✦ “Yeah. It’s not as good as what the king does to them, but it’ll keep it from doing anything really bad to you!

✦ “Once I’ve got it, you can come in and fight it properly, okay? I’ll still be by your side, and give advice, and if it goes wrong, I’ll be ready to take care of it. Sound good?”

Bonnie seems a little surprised, and nods in agreement. Good.

Okay. You head towards the sadness. It tries to take a swing, and you dodge to it’s side, circling behind it. You then thrust your claw into the back of it’s neck, and reach for what mimicry of a spine it has. You leave a part of you in there, as it fuses itself to the sadness’s false nervous system.

You then sing in the special voice no-one can hear. And watch as the sadness starts to stumble and twitch, as the piece of you in it’s brain puppets it’s thoughts to your melody. Good.

✦ “You’re up, Bonnie!”

Bonnie, who was just staring in awe this entire time, shakes their head, and starts charging in.

Meanwhile, you try and focus in on Siffrin’s memories. They were trained professionally, much like the rest of their family you think. You try and focus in on memories of their training, see if you can’t guide Bonnie.

You keep singing your song to keep the sadness from attacking before it’s time. It’s trying to fight you, but you don’t give it an inch.

✿ “O-Okay, what do I do?”

✦ “First, check it’s craft type. It’s hands are in a scissors sign, so it’s weak to rock. Looks like we got lucky, that’s a perfect matchup against you!"

✦ “Now. Steady your breathing. Focus. Keep a firm grip on your weapon, and watch it’s movements. Keep your feet firmly planted, and make every movement count. Ready?”

They nod, and you let the sadness loose a little. It takes a swing, but Bonnie dives to the side, out of the way. It tries to take a swing as they're tumbling, but you stop it dead in it’s tracks.

Bonnie turns up just in time to see the shaking sadness inches away from their face. They seem shocked, but you expected this.

✦ “I did say, Feet firmly planted. Step, jump, or run. You can even block, your pan’s tough enough for it. But big moves like that can leave you open. Now. Back on your feet, I’ll let it go, and this time, keep your footing!”

Bonnie nods, still a little nervous clearly, but not nearly as bad as last time. They get up, and when the sadness swings, this time they step back, just out of range! It stumbles a bit, perfect!

✦ “Attack!”

Bonnie swings and thwacks the sadness on it's side. Unsteady as it was, it fully falls over!

✦ “Good! Make use of when your enemy messes up. As you saw earlier, one bad move can leave you open, and that goes both ways!”

Okay. This takes a bit of focus and energy, but you have this down pat.

You keep going, slowly easing up the control as Bonnie gets more confident, until they land the finishing blow. The sadness dissolves, your little fragment falls, but with a single note you have it dissolve too, so Bonnie doesn't notice. It leaves a bit of a bloodstain, but it’s otherwise unremarkable.

You watch as they take in the victory.

✿ “I… I DID IT!!!! I DID IT!!!”

✦”Well done, I barely had to do anything by the end of that!”

✿ “Really? You mean it?”

✦ “Of course! You’re a genuine fighter now!”

✿ “CRAB YEAH!!!!"

They look really excited, before a thought pops into their head.

✿ “…. Um. Hey Frin? Why aren’t we allowed to touch you?”

OH! Uh. That’s…

✿ “Dile and Za and Belle said it’s cause it makes you jump, and you do jump! But I was wondering why, cause it means we’re not allowed to high five or anything.”

Ah. Right. You always get nervous when it comes to touch. Getting that close makes you worried you’ll act up, or they’ll notice something’s wrong. You wish you could feel safe like that, but you just can’t. And at this point…

✦ “I’m not used to it. I’d like it, but just... I get worried. And. Scared I’ll mess something up.”

✿ “How to you mess up touch?… Well, if you're not used to it, we can do what me and Nille do!”

✦ “Nille?”

✿ “My sister! Her names Petronille, but that’s dumb so I just call her Nille. Anyways, she also jumps at touch, but if you tell her first she’s okay!

✿ “She’s really cool and tough, but gets scared really easily. One time I touched her shoulder when she didn’t know I was there, and she screamed really loud! Like UGHYARGH!!!! But she told me after to let her know first so she doesn’t hurt me on accident.”

Oh! That! You get that!… That works? Huh! That… Makes sense! Why does that feel like it’d work? You can keep steady if you know it’s gonna happen, probably?

✿ “It’s also why I wear big shoes, so she knows where I am! Heheh… heh…. I don’t want to talk about my sister anymore.”

✦ “You don’t talk about her often.”

✿ “She’s frozen in time and she’s not here, so I don’t want to talk about her. She says talking about people behind their backs is bad. Also, talking about her makes me sad.”

✦ “Understood.”

They seem happy to drop the topic. You get that, you wouldn’t want to talk too long about those you're missing. Sure, They’ll get Nille back, but that doesn’t make it easier.

✿ “Anyways, if you can see me, and I tell you I’m gonna touch you, then it should be fine, right?”

✦ “Yes! That should work.”

✿ “Okay then! I am going to touch you!!!!”

Bonnie pokes you in the stomach. It’s a bit strong of a poke? And even if you're a little nervous at Bonnie being this close to you, it’s nice! You're being touched! Like a normal person! Yay!!

✿ “Okay! Let’s fight another Sadness! I’m ready to learn more!”

Alright!…

Hm… You just realized something. Bonnies fighting style isn’t very mobile. They're fast, but they're pretty defensive, and that doesn't work in the backline. So…

✦ “I just realized, you might want a ranged option, since you’ll be in the back a bunch. Fighting up close is good to know in general, but you’d have to actually get up there for that to matter unless things go wrong.”

✿ “Oh. Yeah but... I don’t know any crafts like that.”

✦ “Good thing I’ve got just the tool for that!”

You pull out your old Craft Revolver. Guns aren’t well known in Vaugarde, so it’s probably an islander device, but you remember what it does!

Good weapon, can stay in the backline, and doesn’t take a lot of effort from the wielder except steady hands and good eyes! Both of which Bonnie has plenty of! Besides, you weren’t using it yourself. You're much better at fighting up close.

✦ “This is a special device called a Craft Revolver! You charge up the little chambers with craft energy, and when you pull the trigger, it’ll release it in one blast. You just need to focus on aiming it, and can charge it up when we aren’t fighting."

✿ “WOAH. That’s cool! So I can shoot stuff with craft like Odile! That’s super cool!”

✦ “Yep! And it’s accurate even from pretty far”

Oh and most importantly, gotta teach them basic safety!

✦ “Oh, and very important, make sure this little switch is off when not in combat, and on when we are. It keeps it from firing on accident!”

✿ “Okay, Gotcha! I'll be careful!"

You look around. Perfect! A sadness not TOO far from here.

✦ “Okay, see that sadness over there? You can stay right here, and I’ll distract it. Take your time aiming, keep it steady, hold it tight with both hands, and be prepared for it to jump back a bit when you fire it. Take your time, and we’ll see how long it takes to get the hang of it.”

✿ “Okay!”

You head over to the sadness, and start fighting it. You don’t put any effort into your attacks, and you try to keep the sadness in place, so Bonnie can shoot it.

But… You're not used to fighting out here. You’ve been fighting in the house for quite a while. And… You trip and fall over a branch. The sadness tries to go for the opening!

BANG

The sadness crumples to the ground and dissolves, a hole right through it’s head. A perfect shot! And on their first time! You turn to congratulate them when-

✿ “FRIN!!! FRIN!!! ARE YOU OKAY!?!!!”

Oh Stars, they have tears in their eyes! And they're panicking!

✦ “Y-Yes Bonbon I’m fine! I just tripped!”

✿ “R-Really? You promise?”

You nod. Oh stars, you didn’t mean to worry them! You can tell they're scared.

✿ “okay…. I… you haven't called me bonbon in forever… only Za calls me that now…”

✦ “Oh uh, sorry, I don’t know if that’s okay.”

✿ “nono it’s okay you can…. You promise your okay? It just… reminded me of before…”

Before?…. Hm. Likely a sadness fight, but that’s happened a lot.

✦ “Which before are we referring? We’ve fought a lot of sadnesses.”

✿ “What? You- THE ONE THAT GOT YOUR CRABBING EYE STUPID!!!!”

Oh right. That was a little messy!

✿ “AAAAAAHHHH You stupid crabbing- See!! I told you!!! You're so crabbing stupid!!! You think it doesn’t matter!!! You keep getting hurt because of me and you don’t care!!!”

Right… You were the only one who could do anything. Bonnie was in danger. You can fix injuries like that no issue, but healing an entire eye isn’t exactly believable. So you played along, made a scar like any other notable injury they saw, and moved on.

But. You guess it mattered to them.

✦ “It’s fine! It was worth it.”

✿ “It’s not fine!!! You got hurt because of me!!! And I don’t like it, you should have just let me get hurt!”

✦ “You would have died!”

✿ “It doesn’t matter!! If I had died, it would have been fi-”

✦ “NO. It would NOT. It would NEVER have been fine!!!”

You can’t believe they would say that! Never! Never in a thousand years are you going to watch someone die again!!!

✦ “STARS Bonnie, I could NEVER just leave you to die!!! What would I tell your sister? The others? MYSELF??? If I let you die I’d regret it every day of my life, always thinking about what I took from you!!!"

✦ “Just letting you die is no better then doing the deed myself!!!!! And I'd choose your life over a stupid blinding eye any day!!! I just…”

You look at them. They're sad. They're lost. They're alone.

That guilt. You know that guilt so BLINDING well. The guilt of someone getting hurt because of you.

✦ “I know it hurts. It hurts seeing people hurt like that, because of something you did. But it’s exactly the same for what you don’t do. And if I’d let you get hurt like that, I’d be the one in your position. Hurting every time I remembered what could have been.

✦ “An eye you can move past. You can manage with, eventually. But... you can’t bring back the dead, no matter how hard you try.”

You’ve tried. So very hard. Every day. Every second. Every step. But you can only settle for this.

Another memory starts to come forwards. More words from those you’ve forgotten. Those you killed. Couldn’t protect from yourself. Coming to help you even now.

✦ “Someone once told me… Ignoring those you could save is never the better choice. You’ll always regret it.

✦ “So… We just have to make sure we can all protect each other.”

Bonnie looks up at you.

✦ “I’m stronger then back then. And so are you. And we can make sure it doesn’t happen again. I can protect you, and make sure nobody gets hurt. And you can help make it easier, and help protect them too."

✦ “Together, Okay? So nobody is lost. So nobody is hurt. So we don’t have to regret a thing.”

Bonnie thinks. And then quietly responds.

✿ “...promise? Promise you won’t get hurt?”

✦ “Of course! I promise! Super Duper Promise!”

You'll stop even death itself before anyone gets hurt.

✿ “...Okay. Then… As long as you promise, it’s fine! And… I can help! I can protect!”

✦ “You certainly did a good job back there! First time and you got a perfect shot!”

✿ “Wait. I DID!! OH CRAB YEAH!!!! Yeah! I can protect people!!! And you can protect me! And… and we can protect everyone!!!”

You nod, and ruffle their head.

You do take a quick second to check… They did! They remembered to put the safety back up after! That was the one thing you were worried about, really. And given they didn’t do it while you were talking, they must have done it right after the sadness was dead. That’s good!

✿ “hehehe! You see me right? I’m gonna touch you now!!!”

They jump at you and give you a big hug!!! You freeze, not expecting that! You don’t know how to hug right! You…

Okay. You gently, and carefully, hug them back. They look up at you.

✿ “See? You do know how to hug!”

✦ “I-I guess I do!”

You smile, hug for a little longer, before you both head back to Dormont.

Just one person left!

>>>

Isa takes you to this open field.

You hope whatever they have for you won’t be too much effort. You’ve spent a lot of focus today. You're tired, hungry, and still nursing a headache from all those memories you’ve been having. And with Isa, you really don’t want to have anything go wrong.

But you can pull it through. Just a little longer. And then you can eat, and sleep, and recover. You can even slip out during the night for a bit if you need to. Loop can’t get proper food then but you at least wouldn’t be tempted. Just. See what Isa needs.

✦ “So, what do you need me to do?”

▲ “Huh? Oh, um… Lay down with me?”

You lay down, and he lays down with you. You look at him, confused.

▲ “And now, Look up!”

You look up.

Oh. Oh. The Stars.

They're… They're so clear. All around you. Stretching forever. It’s… You… They're so….

▲ “When you asked me what I wanted earlier, I couldn't think of anything. Had everything handled. But then I saw you helping everyone out, and I thought it seemed fun! So… I decided maybe we could just hang out!”

You… You don’t know what to say… He just… wanted to be with you? Nothing else? You…

✦ “I… And… the stars?”

▲ “Right! You often mentioned them, and I didn’t know what that word meant at first, so I took some time trying to figure it out, and someone told me eventually! And then I realized you talk about stuff like this a bunch, stars, planets, the sun, and so on. And that you’d often take time to look out at the night sky."

▲ “So uh. I figured you’d like a nice place to look at them together!”

He… he did this…. For you…? You… Can’t help your tears… It’s….

▲ “Oh crab! Is it okay? I didn’t mess it up, right? I-”

✦ “Thank you.”

▲ “Huh?”

✦ “Thank you! So much. Isa. I… I don’t know what to say…”

He stops, and starts to laugh. Stars, you love it when he laughs. You started making jokes just because it made him laugh. It was the first time you realized you could be human right. And every time you hear it, it brings back that memory.

As the laughter subsides, you just start to drink in the view. He really found such a perfect stargazing place. Away from all the lights, nothing to fade away even the smallest dot. You feel them so closely now. Hear their faint melodies that you’ve always heard. The song you weave into every melody you sing.

You were... worried. That it would be something you couldn't do. But. This? This is something you both can enjoy. He really is amazing.

▲ “By the way, I heard some people can see patterns in the sky. Not sure about what they're called. Conste-something?”

✦ “Constellations! They're very special.”

▲ “Really? Do you know any?”

You think. It’s hard to remember any at all. But. You do know one. It was very special to Siffrin for some reason… You grab a leaf, and craft it’s pattern into it, then hand it to Isa.

✦ “Yes, this one. See if you can spot it!”

Isa takes a bit, before pointing up at the sky.

▲ “Oh! There it is! It kinda looks like a tree!”

✦ “Yep! In fact, it’s where Favor trees gain their strength from.”

▲ “Wait really?”

You're starting to unearth this memory just a bit. It hurts a little, but it’s just too interesting not to talk about!

✦ “Yes really! Those stars together like favor trees, and if you know how to call their attention, and believe in what you want strongly enough, they can help give you the extra push needed to grant your wish.”

▲ “That… huh. I suppose I have to thank them then. I’ve asked for quite a few favors.”

✦ “We repay them in kind, even if we don’t know it. We’re a star in the sky to them, just as they are to us. And what tiny bits of strength we don’t use can be called by them when they need it.

✦ “Nothing on it’s own, but with all the stars in the sky? We’ve probably helped grant hundreds of wishes we never knew about.”

▲ “Wow… How do you know all this?”

You have to fight through a little more headache for that…

Oh. So that’s what Siffrin’s field of study was! No wonder you find it so interesting!

✦ “I think I studied it a bunch when I was younger. It’s not common knowledge anymore, and I don’t remember the details. But… Once I learned even a tiny bit, I had to know all there was!”

▲ “I can see why! It’s really interesting! And. Kind of compelling…”

You both sit for a bit. It’s nice to remember that… You look at Isa. They glance at you a few times. Stars! You shared all that, and didn’t ask them anything!

✦ “Well, I’ve said something important about me! Your turn!”

▲ “OH!! Uh… Hm. Well, you know how I’m from Jouvente, right? Lived there my whole life, big city, way more then Dormont… Anyways, you might think it’s surprising but when I was Bonnie's age, I was the nerdiest kid around."

Huh, really? Doesn't seem their style.

▲ “Massive smarty pants. Like, really, imagine it! Big glasses, neat braids, always knew the answers to any test or question the teacher would give, perfect grades all that. Always too shy to even make a friend on the playground.”

Hm. Now that he mentions it, you did realize he was pretty smart. But he always hid it. Why? What changed?

▲ “Yeah. I… Didn’t like myself. Cause I was smart, but I hated being shy. Being alone. Not even being able to ask a classmate for a pen because I was so paralyzed with fear. I would have lived the rest of my life like that."

That. You remember you were like that for a while.

▲ “But. One day, I looked at myself in the mirror, and thought… Is this it? Is this who I want to be?… I decided I didn’t. Made a wish on a favor tree, come to think of it. That I could be a better person. That I could change."

Didn't want to be... what they were...

▲ “Day after, I headed to a house of change, and got started. That’s what they help you do, you know? Learn new things, do Bodycraft, practice being who you want. And when you come out, nobody will bat an eye. I threw myself into it, just like I did anything else I learned. Lifted weights, practiced my confidence, changed my body to be bigger, stronger, louder! Told myself in the mirror that ‘I’m the Coolest!’.”

So that explains it. Hearing their heartbeat like you do, you notice their far more nervous then they act. So often they feel like a rabbit, but it’s only in small moments. But it happened enough.

Nobody else would notice it. But, you always knew there was remnants of someone else under who he is. Just like you.

▲ “...Change is destruction, you know? To bring change, you might hurt people. Might hurt yourself even. So you always have to be careful, make sure it’s worth it. So, I decided. The person I was... I made them disappear. Killed them with my own bare hands.”

✦ “...So the person you became could live. And the one from before would never come back…”

▲ “… You understand?”

… You… You shouldn’t say it. You can’t. But…

But… It’s Isa. You can’t help it...

✦ “I… Promise you won’t tell a soul?”

Isa looks at you firmly, and nods. You… You trust them. Enough to...

✦ “...I… I wasn’t always a good person. One day, Someone died. If it wasn’t for me, they’d probably still be alive. And... I was the only one left left who would remember them."

Isa stares at you. Not really scared, not upset just...

✦ “So… I took their name. Gave them a second chance. Took up everything they knew. Borrowed every piece of them I could. Learned everything they would have known. To save at least part of them. And bury the one who let them die…"

You grip your cloak tight to yourself.

✦ “I... still worry the old me will come back. That someone will get hurt because of me…”

▲ “Sif...”

Isa doesn’t know what to say to that for a while.

… It’s fair. Even if he only knows one kill, it’s still more then most humans would ever have. You’d get it if he judged you for it.

▲ “… Sif… I don’t know who this person was. But I hope you know. I still care about you. You might not be them, but… They kept you alive. Helped protect your old you from themselves."

You... You guess they did. If it wasn't for Siffrin... You would have...

▲ “Your new self is like armor, shielding the old one. I still know that little shy kid from before is still in me. And they're still an important part…”

A memory surfaces. Something simple, but important. It hurts again but… One more time today.

✦ “...Someone once said… Strength comes in many forms. But the strongest is from those of others.

✦ “I guess we both found people to cover our weaknesses, didn’t we?”

▲ “Heheh… Guess we did… One day, I’ll balance it out, be a mixture of both. Be smart and strong. Because they both matter. They're both a part of me…"

He looks at you smiling, happy, and hopeful.

▲ “I don’t know where you are on this, but… I hope, whenever your ready, you’ll get to do that too. Because I know that every single thing about you has been worthwhile.”

You… He… You weren’t wrong, were you? At the end… He really does…

He wouldn’t though, if he knew what you were. Not really. Maybe what bits peak out seem okay for now but… He has no idea… But still…

✦ “… Same here Isa. I have always been glad to know you. The way you laugh, the way you talk about things you like, the way you can make everyone around you at ease, the way you get all nervous at times when you think no one can tell. The way you notice all the little details about people’s feelings. Just…”

You don’t know what to say. You… You can’t say it.. You want him to say it… To make it real, because if you say it now, you don’t know if you’ll believe it when he does… Even if it’s just once, even if something happens and he forgets it, you need to hear him say it.

▲ “I… Sif… I… I also…”

Something catches your attention, in the corner of your eye, as does his.

✿ “AHAH! See, I told you all they’d be here!”

◆ “More like you heard Isa mumble to himself about it earlier. Nice spot, by the way.”

◉ “Hi Siffrin, Hi Isabeau! We figured you’d be here! Can we join!”

Oh! Everyone’s here!

...You were kinda hoping to see what he’d say, but that can wait till tomorrow.

✦ “Sure! We just finished talking.”

✿ “I brought food! So we can eat here!”

◉ “A nightly picnic!”

▲ “Oh, I can smell the Samosas!”

✿ “Here Frin! I made extra for you! As thanks!”

You smile, and grab a few.

◉ “Siffrin sure was busy today, weren't they? Thank you!”

◆ “Yes, thank you for earlier. You’ve been a great help today.”

You feel glad to be praised! It was worth every bit of effort.

✿ “Frin taught me how to fight earlier! So I can help you out tomorrow!”

✦ “Yep! Turns out with the right tools, they're a natural!”

◆ “High praise, coming from you. Consider me intrigued.”

◉ “What about you, Isabeau? Did Siffrin help you out today too?”

You both look at each other. He smiles. So do you.

▲ “Heh. Yeah. I think we both helped each other.”

… That he did. They all did. You trust them. And… and they trust you…

You're glad you did this. You know it might not last but… You're glad you did it all the same. And maybe. Just maybe…

No, you doubt this would stop the time loops, but… You guess you can hope a little. Surely like this you won't lose them, right?

...It's fine. You will try and hold them tight.

>>>

You’re at the clocktower, getting cleaned up before bed. You make sure to clean up normally, then open up your disguise to clean the undersides, just in case. Never know for sure. You put yourself back together, then check the mirror.

Blind it. That damn horn. It’s poking out of your head again. Ugh. Why is it so hard to keep hidden? It’ll just pop out of the right side of your head if you don’t pay attention to it long enough. Stars why don’t you just-

You reach to pull it out but stop.

You can’t. That stays. You promised.

...You promised? Who would you have ever made that promise to? Who would even care?

But… You know you did. And… Y

our head hurts so BLINDING much thinking about this.

… You just push it back in. It’s fine.

Your having a harder time keeping Siffrin together. You only managed this long because you always get put back in place at the start of the loop. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to heal damage right for long. You’ll need to start getting creative… It’s fine. You can mange for now. You’ll just have to see how it turns out.

#in stars and time #isat #isat au #carrion!sif au #SymphonyInCrimson!au #isat spoilers #Freindquests done! way faster then expected. Biggest chapter so far!#They're rather different then normal. tbf we aren't dealing with a normal 'siffrin'.#I wonder is people familiar with the AQW material can figure out who 'Siffrin' would have been?#just a little bonus if you do :3

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sashaisready · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 3 - Now or Never

Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

Under the Radar Masterlist

<Chapter Two - Beige

Warnings: Angst! Nick being a dick, some sexist/misogynistic language

Wordcount: 3804 (sorry quite a long one but there’s a lot of stuff to set up 😉 I am excited!!)

You could barely sleep after he left. You managed to grab a few hours…somehow…but you laid wide awake just after 5am. Your mind couldn’t settle. You just replayed what he’d said over and over again.

No drive. Beige. Nothing. No drive. Beige. Nothing.

He was embarrassed of you. All this time you had hoped you were wrong. That you were overthinking it. You had clung weakly to the idea that he’d dismiss such a thing if confronted.

But you were right.

He was ashamed to be seen with you. Ashamed if anyone found out that he was sleeping with you.

The worst part was…he wasn’t entirely wrong. You knew that about yourself. You played it safe. You liked it comfortable, you liked a sure thing. You knew if you went for a promotion you’d probably have a good shot at it, but you were afraid to fail. Afraid to be bad at something. You knew your job like the back of your hand. You were good at it because you knew it so well. Your fear was what stopped you from taking a leap. From learning. From being out in the field. It was cowardly.

You were such a coward in fact that you had let this man walk all over you for so long, too afraid to question him and risk bringing down the fragile house of cards you’d built. Of course he didn’t respect you. How could he? You barely respected yourself.

There had been a moment though…When you questioned him about his soft treatment in the bathroom….how he held you…you could’ve sworn you saw a moment of weakness in his eyes. A hint of admission that you’d hit a nerve. That maybe it did all mean something.

But you couldn’t think like that anymore.

You needed to stop obsessing over every detail in an attempt to find the words he wasn’t saying. Stop fruitlessly trying prove to yourself that he cared about you. It was all so clear now. He didn’t. He never did.

As much as your heart ached, the revelation was freeing. You had your answer. It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but now you knew. You could draw a line under all of this and move on. Maybe, in time, find someone who would be proud to have you on their arm.

You smiled, the glimmer of optimism lifting you from your funk. In a strange way, Nick had given you a new lease of life. You would prove him wrong. Prove him wrong about all of it.

It was nearly 6am when you admitted defeat and accepted you weren’t going back to sleep. You normally didn’t get up til gone 7, but you decided to start your day. You had two choices: mope into your laptop and try to keep a low profile to avoid Nick, or walk into work with your head held high and prove he hadn’t broken you.

You chose the latter.

And…it wouldn’t hurt to show him what he was missing, would it?

First order of business - remove temptation. You deleted Nick’s messages from your phone. Deleted your call log with him. Blocked his number and deleted his contact. It wasn’t like he messaged you much anyway, but this way you avoided any urge to text him - and couldn’t be swayed if he tried to get back in touch (unlikely, but good to be sure). It felt a little sad to remove them, especially the easy back and forth of your banter in the early days. The little jokes. His compliments. All sent to the digital graveyard in the sky. You sighed. A good first step.

After showering, eating breakfast and firing off a few explanatory texts to Annie, you opened your closet to find something to wear to work. You flicked through your endless work blouses and pants, all perfectly fine, but you wore them everyday on rotation. Beige. Some were a bit too big, some a bit too bland. Your non-work clothes were too casual…you didn’t really have anything else to wear except…

….oh yes. The pencil dress.

Annie had given it to you some time ago, suggesting you could wear it to the office. She worked in fashion so was always trying to pawn off garments she thought would work for you. You’d laughed it off at first, the dress was nice - a fitted black number, flattering, pretty but still formal. But you wouldn’t wear something like that - certainly not to work! You’d stuck in the back of your closet and planned to stick it on eBay, but never got around to it. You were grateful for your past laziness.

As you pulled the dress from the hanger your phone buzzed. You held your breath for a second wondering if it was him - but of course it wasn’t. He was blocked. And he wouldn’t be messaging anyway.

It was Annie. She was always up at the crack of dawn doing yoga or Pilates, so it was no surprise she’d got back to you so quickly.

What!! Ugh that ASSHOLE. Sweetie, I’m sorry - but you are better off without him. I’ve always known he wasn’t good enough for you. Well done for walking away. You deserve so much more. Drinks this week, first round on me ❤️ A

You smiled as your phone buzzed again. Annie had sent an addendum.

Also - wear that pencil dress to work today. No arguments. Look fabulous. Make him sweat.

❤️ A

You laughed out loud, it was the first time you’d felt a bit of joy since Nick left. She was your best friend for a reason. You pulled on the dress, carefully rolling it down your body and zipping it up.

You looked in the mirror, immediately feeling a little anxious. You looked…good. That you couldn’t deny. But could you really wear this to work? It wasn’t overly revealing, it fit the dress code, but it hugged your figure in a way your other work clothes never did. Was this really you?

No. It wasn’t. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe trying something not-you was a good idea.

Beige.

You inhaled deeply, your mind made up. You slipped on a pair of heels you rarely wore but kept for weddings and formal parties when you needed them. They were surprisingly comfortable, not painful stilettos you needed to hobble around in.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, surprised at how different you looked. But not hating it. Absolutely not.

You took a bit more time doing your hair and make-up than you would normally spend on work days. Once you finished, you surveyed your handiwork in the full length mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. You felt a pang of confidence and you welcomed it gladly, a bright spot in the sea of your despair.

You snapped a selfie and sent it to Annie, who immediately fired back a series of flame and heart eye emojis. You chuckled.

It was now or never.

You felt sick as you walked to your desk, very aware of the additional attention you were receiving this morning. A few of your male colleagues said good morning, the ones who barely noticed you normally. You smiled weakly back in return, faintly angry that it took a tight dress to get them to show you some basic courtesy. Grant the security guy was polite at least.

A small wave of embarrassment hit as you sat down. Was everyone looking at you? Judging you? Did you look bad? Did they think you were trying too hard? God. This is why you preferred to blend into the background. Far less complicated.

But once you opened your laptop and started work, your nerves melted away. You threw yourself into your documents, tapping away at a report before comparing some photos of a potential target location. Busy was good. Busy meant your mind was occupied.

It was mid-morning when you got up to refill your coffee, the lack of sleep from last night finally catching up as your adrenaline began to wear off. You were just in the break room filling up your mug when you heard a chatter of voices enter the room.

Nick strolled in discussing a shipment of some kind with Director Walsh. You froze, feeling that nauseous feeling return as you noticed him, your heart pounding in your chest. Your body on fire.

He looked over at you for a moment before looking back at Walsh, but his eyes did a double take and he glanced back at you once more, a flash of surprise on his face before nodding in response to Walsh’s question.

You finished making your coffee as quickly as you could, desperate to get away and back to the safety of your desk.

Walsh’s cell rang and he sighed, excusing himself as he darted out of the room to take it. He was a good boss. A good leader. He was greying and slightly out of shape, but his presence still commanded everyone’s attention. You had always been in awe of him for that.

You waited for Nick to leave too, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you stirred your cup and picked it up to head back to your sanctuary.

“Nice dress” he finally said monotonously.

You turned, giving him a friendly nod as you tried not to look too deeply into those eyes of his. Not wanting to fall into them again.

“Thank-you, Agent Fowler”. You said politely.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh…we’re doing that, are we?”

You looked at him quizzically. “Sorry? Doing what?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what. Formalities. Do you think I’m dumb? You wear the same clothes here day in, day out, and now suddenly after last night you’re wearing that? Don’t insult my intelligence, princess” he spat.

You looked down at the dress, then back at Nick. You hadn’t really expected such a direct response to it. You weren’t sure how you managed to compose yourself but you pushed through, ignoring the thumping in your ears and how dry your mouth had suddenly become.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean…” you said plainly.

He chuckled. “Look, how things went down was…” he paused to think “Unfortunate…but we can still be adults about this. We need to be civil, we both need to work together”.

You nodded.

“So don’t play games and wear tight outfits for my benefit” he said sharply.

You sighed mockingly as if he had said the silliest thing you’d ever heard.

“Agent Fowler, I think you’ll find this is a work appropriate item of clothing that fits the dress code guidance. If you have an issue with my attire, please raise it with HR. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to be getting on with”.

With that you left the room without looking back, a small smirk on your lips.

Despite your cool facade you were on the verge on a panic attack once you sat back at your desk. You hadn’t expected Nick to confront you quite so directly. Still…you couldn’t deny it felt good to rattle him a little. Normally you were the one doting on him, begging for any scraps of attention he gave you like a stray dog - and here you were now - giving him the ice queen treatment and leaving him standing by himself.

You hoped it would get easier to be around him. You weren’t cut out for this dicey game of oneupmanship. Even if it was incredibly satisfying when it paid off.

You managed to throw yourself back into your work, ignoring the occasional admiring glance from some of your male colleagues.

You were concentrating hard when Director Walsh walked by your desk, his deep voice surprising you out of your trance as he said your name.

He knew your name?

He knew your name.

Maybe Nick wasn’t right about everything.

“Yes, Sir?” You smiled, looking up and giving him your full attention.

“You finished that Phoenix report yet?” He asked.

You nodded. “All good to go, I just needed to tweak some of the coordinates”.

He smiled approvingly. “Good work. Can you drop a hard copy over to Fowler ASAP? He’s going to be leading that Op now”.

Fuck.

You smiled again. “Of course, I’ll get right on that Sir”.

He gave you a small nod before disappearing across the office floor.

You sighed. You should’ve been delighted to have such a positive interaction with Walsh. Normally he barely acknowledged your existence. But he knew your name! He said good work!! Of course it was all tainted by having to speak to Nick…

You sent the report to the printer and picked it up on the way to Nick’s office. Just get in and out. Ignore any pointed little comments, respond with professionalism like you had earlier.

As you approached you could see his door was ajar. That was a good sign. He always closed it when he was inside working. You checked your watch. Lunchtime. He most likely wasn’t there, probably on some long lunch with another agent like usual, so you could leave the report on his desk and sneak off before he returned. Perfect.

You padded up to the door, not bothering to knock as you strode in because you assumed it was empty - only to hear a woman’s laugh and a snippet of conversation as you came inside.

“So…when are you taking me out again?” The female voice said coyly as you stepped through.

It was too late to retreat. Nick was sitting at his desk and leaning on it in front of him was Mace, the brilliant and beautiful agent. Nick’s colleague. She was so close to him she was practically in his lap. Nick was wearing the smirk you knew all too well.

Mace was, by all accounts, a badass, and just happened to be movie star gorgeous too. Your stomach sank.

Take her out again?

They both turned to look at you, confused by your presence.

“Oh…I’m-I’m sorry” you muttered. “The door was open so I…I didn’t think anyone was…oh…”

Nick stared over at you, his face giving nothing away as always.

Take her out again? When did they go out before?

You blinked, realising you hadn’t finished your explanation. You quickly regained your cool despite the heat burning in your cheeks.

“Apologies, Agent Fowler…I wouldn’t have barged in if I’d known you were here. I have the Phoenix report for you- Director Walsh said you needed it”.

You handed the report to him and he accepted it, nodding.

“Thank-you” he said impassively.

“And apologies again for the intrusion” you added.

He waved a hand dismissively and you moved to leave.

“You look nice today” Mace chirped as you passed her, her red hair glowing in the sunlight from the window.

You turned to face her, conjuring up the most genuine smile you could. “Thanks…”

She smiled back and you stole a quick glance at Nick as you left. He was just staring, his expression impenetrable.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

It had been a few hours since the Mace incident and you’d been quietly spiralling at your desk ever since.

Ugh…you were dumb. Did you really think he was exclusively fucking you? Of course he’s been with other women - other women in the office even. And Mace is beautiful and talented and they travel together out on ops all the time - you were a fool for not figuring it out sooner.

Not only that, Mace was everything he said you weren’t. Established and respected in her career, at the top of her field, known by everyone in the CIA. She certainly wasn’t beige.

Here you were, playing stupid games in your stupid dress trying to provoke him while he was pursuing other women. How embarrassing.

You got your head down and continued to work for a bit longer until you realised you could smell a familiar cologne. You looked up to find Nick strolling to the desk behind you.

“Leigh” he said smugly.

Ugh. Agent Leigh. Hardly your favourite person. A frat boy who never grew up. Loud, brash, as subtle as a foghorn. You did your best to interact with him as little as possible. Fortunately the feeling seemed to be mutual as you were one of the few female staff members he didn’t try to corner at social events. He at least had the good sense to understand that you had no time for him.

“Fowler!” You heard him reply. He laughed his weaselly laugh and you suppressed an eye roll. “How’s life, my man?”

“Not bad, not bad” Nick responded. “Just seeing if you were available for drinks tonight - bit of a guy’s night, yknow”.

Leigh practically hollered. “Hell yeah, man! Where you thinkin’?”

“Ignite, downtown”,

“Sweet! Yes! Ignite has the hottest tail”.

You couldn’t suppress the eye roll this time.

Nick chuckled. “It does certainly attract a class of women who are easy on the eye”.

Pig. Asshole. Pig.

You knew he was doing this on purpose. Baiting you. Trying to get a reaction out of you after you bested him earlier. This was punishment.

“Exactly!” Laughed Leigh. “But you know me…I’m not fussy. If she’s got a pulse, I’m down”.

Grossgrossgross.

“Hey…Palmer, you coming?”

Leigh called over to Agent Palmer, who was sitting nearby and like you was unfortunate enough to bear witness to this scintillating conversation.

Palmer looked up and smiled weakly. “Not really my scene, I’ll pass”.

“It’ll be fun” Nick purred.

“Oh don’t be a pussy, man!” Leigh continued. “You need to get some ass, loosen up a little” he laughed.

You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

“Hey…c’mon man” Palmer said scoldingly. His gaze momentarily flickered over to you. “Don’t talk like that”.

“Oh…you worried about Miss Priss? Forget that hardass” Leigh laughed, referring to you.

You felt your head pound as you did your best to pretend you didn’t hear.

“Dude! Shut it!” Palmer said warningly. You could hear the anger in his voice. “Don’t be an asshole. That’s not cool”.

You looked at him, giving him a small, grateful smile. He smiled back sympathetically.

“He’s right, we’re at work” Nick interjected. “Let’s keep it to shop talk, okay?”

At least he’d shut it down. But you felt a pang of sadness that he hadn’t stood up for you like Palmer had.

Leigh exhaled. “Whatever, party poopers” he got up and headed towards the break room, giving Nick finger guns as he went. “See you at quitting time, Fowler. Hope your liver is ready for me”.

You could hear Palmer calling him a dick and asking if you were okay, but you felt far away - barely present.

You felt Nick lingering behind you but you couldn’t face turning around to look at him. You were flushed with embarrassment after Leigh’s comments. It was like you were back in high school and one of the popular kids was making fun of you. You tightly squeezed your mouse, pretending to be engrossed in your screen.

Beige. Beige. Hardass. Miss Priss.

No drive. No drive. No drive.

You glanced over to the window of Director Walsh’s office. He was sitting inside, squinting at his monitor. You knew he wasn’t busy. He always put in a 30 minute block in his calendar around this time, he claimed it was to catch up on emails and paperwork but you knew he mostly spent it bidding on eBay or reading sports news.

Now or never.

You had stood up before you fully realised what you were doing, striding over to Walsh’s office. The combination of Leigh’s assholery and humiliating truth about Nick and Mace ignited something in you that you couldn’t stop. You were fuelled by anger and disgust. Before you knew it you were knocking on his door.

“Sir? Do you have 5 minutes?” You asked cheerily, hoping he couldn’t see how upset you were.

Walsh looked up, clearly surprised to see you but gestured for you to take a seat.

You sat, then cleared your throat.

“What can I do for you?” He asked gruffly.

You swallowed. “Well, Sir, I’ve been here for five years now. In that time I’ve established myself as an essential team member - my briefing reports are thorough and meticulous, I always meet my deadlines. The agents know that whatever work they give me, it’ll be done quickly and to a high standard. Just ask any of them…”

He peered thoughtfully at you.

You cleared your throat again, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

“…and you see, I think, uh, well I know I’ve got even more to offer. I’ve got a keen eye for detail and a passion to learn. I’m ready for the next step. Not just do everybody’s background work. So…sir…I’d like to be…well, assigned to an op directly. To work alongside an agent on the strategy and planning. I…I just want a chance to prove I can, sir”.

You stammered slightly at the end, but sat up straight and clasped your shaking hands together in an attempt to appear calm and collected.

Walsh studied you, moving a finger to his lip as he considered your proposal. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

“Okay”.

Your face brightened. “Okay? Really?”

He nodded. “You’re right. You’ve proven you’re competent. You deserve a shot”.

You grinned in return, trying to appear professional but unable to mask your glee.

“Thank you! Thank-you sir…I won’t let you down. I promise”.

He nodded again before walking to the door and calling out to the office floor.

“Palmer? A minute please”.

Palmer appeared seconds later, the curiosity evident on his face as he saw you sitting there.

Walsh sat down behind his desk and pointed between the both of you.

“The two of you are going to be working on Project Cotton together. Effective immediately. Palmer - She’ll be your number two - working with you on the strategy and logistics to prepare for you going out in the field. We’ll be taking her off her normal duties for a few weeks so please see to it that her other work is re-assigned amongst the other assistants”.

Palmer nodded. “Yes, sir”.

“Fowler will be out on Project Phoenix for a few weeks from tomorrow so I need you to lead on this” Walsh added. “It’s priority number one”.

“Absolutely, Sir. Understood”.

A new work opportunity. A chance to prove yourself and defy everyone’s impressions of you. Nick. Leigh. Walsh. Yourself. And no Nick hanging around to distract you. Distance and time to get over him.

It was almost too good to be true.

You beamed at Palmer. He smiled back.

“Looking forward to working with you” he said.

“Thank-you, Agent Palmer. The feeling is mutual”.

Chapter Four - The Ghost

#nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #the 355 #sebastian stan #under the radar fic

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aphicelend · 4 months ago

Text

Misaki Shirayama

26 y.o | 1.52 cm | Japanese | April 4th | Aries

(APH) Human | City Ver. | Colorful AU | BOX AU

Tags: #Art/HC tag | #Posts related to her | #MisAme

Wanted to do a profile for her here 💦 Misaki has been one of my fave oc's since 2012 and i'm having fun drawing her a lot again, and I love to put her in my other oc's stories 💃 so here's info of her hetalia AU(?

i wrote everything in spanish and im lazy to translate it properly so, google translator yay

| Personality

Misaki is a young woman with a fiery personality, she has little patience for stupidity. She is a hard worker, and likes to put effort into what she likes. She is also stubborn when it comes to opinions if it is not her way she will not do it, she tends to violence when someone bothers her. Her pride is something precious to her.

Despite this, when she gets upset she needs her time to calm down and then apologize. Even so, Misaki is a girl who cares about others, her way of showing her appreciation is through actions, especially cooking.

Socially inept, having lived surrounded by “nations” Misaki behaves awkwardly with other humans, for some reason she always feels distant and finds it difficult to understand them.

Having grown up with nations, Misaki did not develop “parental affection” or someone to consult her problems with, because she considered that Japan would not fully understand her.

He usually feels a constant feeling of loneliness, his heart is a hard shell that makes it difficult for him to let in emotions like love.

| BACKGROUND (Hetalia AU)

Strip about her background

In this AU, Misaki was raised by Japan who took care over her as she was abandonated. Her childhood was kinda chaotic, surrounded by nations of course she didn't grow like other kids, she felt distanced.

Japan tried his best to give her a normal life, of course he wasn't used to raise a kid. Misaki always wondered why did he took her? He felt lonely? She would never know.

She always had a sense of loneliness, a feeling of she doesn't belong where she is. Mother? Father? What's that, she only had "weird uncles"

Misaki was very problematic at school, her classmates teased her a lot and she answered back with violence.

Through her adolescence, she kinda developed a crush on Yao, and she was rejected, of course, the man only saw her as a little sister.

More about it here.

Time heals, she tried to moved on. On Uni, she meet a guy named Kazuo, they clicked and became a couple, Misaki thought that finally had someone who cared for her deeply, but no. The guy cheated on her. That was the point that made her close herself.

-> She lives alone in an old traditional house that Japan left for her, she works as botanic in a national park in Kyoto.

| Interests and facts

She LOVES gardering and plants. She has a traditional garden on her house and it's her first priority.

She's very good at cooking, Japan and China taught her very well.

Also Romano as shared with her some italian recipes so she could "learn something good"

Her way to show love is giving you food.

Her dream is to open her own restaurant.

One of her interests are kimonos, she likes to make her own

Favorite station is autumn, she loves when trees go orange.

Loves cats, and bunnies, loves cute things.

She likes minimalist clothing, plain clothes or stripped patterns

Her face may look annoyed but she's kind, and gets along better with girls.

She has been mistaken for a minor

Does she feel something for Alfred?? who knows.

She's just afraid to someone break into her heart and get too attatched.

| RELATIONSHIPS

I made this chart

| Music

Mostly vocaloid because i'm a weeb

Balsam / Misaki - About her loneliness

The Beast / Misaki - Her fear to open her heart

I'm glad you're evil too / Misaki - Her wish to find someone

Girl Pilot / MisAme - Their dynamic, Alfred trying to reach her but he can't

I can't stop the loneliness / Misaki - the song says it all lol, maybe her fear that its too late?

Hammer Song And The Tower Of Pain / Misaki - Pushing everyone away it's the best

MAD HEAD LOVE / MisAme - Their dynamic, they're idiots.

----

If you got this far here's some old misaki drawings, old hetalia? ocs? she used to have friends and now she's DEPRESSED.

2012 | 2014

#karuocs #karuocs misaki #hetalia #aph oc #hetalia oc #oc x canon #karudibu

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markerofthemidnight · 10 days ago

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Danganronpa: Trial by Media

At the request of @namearentfunfr, I have officially been given permission to talk about my fangan that’s been dwelling on my mind for the past like month! Prepare for a rant (although there’s only so much I can tell you without giving away spoilers so far).

Its name is Danganronpa: Trial by Media. It takes place in an… ambiguous point in the future, somewhere in America (I’m sorry guys but Japanese names are just really hard for me to remember, besides I don’t have to worry about translating the Japanese culture over to it and all the research that would require so for me it’s much easier this way).

Its basic premise is “Danganronpa: Despair Time, but what if the fact that it’s a TV show impacted the plot more?” Because that’s one of my only complaints about DRDT: I think the fact that the cast know from the beginning that the Killing Game is being broadcasted to an audience of millions doesn’t have enough of an impact on the plot as it should. So I made this fangan to fix it!

Besides that, it also takes a lot of inspiration from Project: Eden’s Garden, namely the fact that every character except the host has an associated animal. It’s also pretty similar to P:EG theme-wise, since Logic v. Emotion is looking to be a big thing in it so far- but I think its main theme is perception and moral ambiguity. Its constantly reminding its viewers that a lot of things run deeper than they seem to think, and how noone is really a “good” or “bad” person- which, wouldn’t you know it, is also a prominent theme in P:EG.

Anyways, let’s stop focusing on all that and just get to the plot!

In Danganronpa: Trial By Media, 15 Ultimates wake up in an as-of-now unnamed animation studio that’s been reformed into the setting of a most frightening, yet even moreso popular, reality TV show. I say 15 because our protagonist, Hayden Dernier, doesn’t have an Ultimate, and is just listed as the Ultimate Lucky Participant in their profile to compensate.

There, they find themselves at the mercy of a merciless, indestructible AI host, Hattrick, who luckily for them seems quite amicable at first, despite the kind of game he’s hosting… but however much he enjoys the company of his participants, he’s even moreso single-minded in keeping his audience entertained. And as the views fall and fall with each passing day, Hattrick quickly decides there’s only one thing that can bring them back. After all… everyone likes a good murder-mystery, right?

The 15 Ultimates, as well as Hayden, then have to dedicate all of their power to making sure things go well, and if luck is truly on their side, the show might just be cancelled before anything can happen. But with the darkness hidden deep within each and every Ultimate, as well as the compelling motives Hattrick and his team have up their sleeves… how much longer until this show turns south?

There we go! Danganronpa: Trial by Media!

This fangan isn’t one that’s as focused on avoiding tropes and moreso just telling a good story, y’know? If I tried to be as original as possible, it’d just be bad, and I don’t want that. Anyways, while we’re here, here’s a few aspects of the Killing Game I’m not afraid to be original about, just as a cool draw-in or “focus point” to grab your attention:

There is no deuteragonist or rival character. Instead, Hayden has two partners that both help and hinder them in their own ways with their opposing ideals.

I haven’t come up with the specifics yet, but DR:TbM, if it was ever made into a fangame, would also have a new mechanic/minigame in Class Trials that allows you to team up with one of your classmates, just because I thought that’d be a cool mechanic.

Besides that… this isn’t really a selling point, but my preferred format for it in my head is actually as an indie animated musical, to fit with the 1930s aesthetic it (especially Hattrick) has. Since we all know that’s never going to happen, though, if I ever do anything with it it’ll just be on AO3.

One of the participants is the Ultimate Therapy Animal. I have put a dog into a Killing Game.

#danganronpa #fanganronpa #fangan

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smellyrottentrees · 4 months ago

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Some more information:

You are welcome to interact with posts no matter how old they are! Unless, of course, it’s something time-sensitive like a poll.

Please ask questions! I need nothing more than an excuse to infodump. I may become vague if I feel a certain topic contains spoilers, but I will make it clear that is the case if it is so.

Don’t be afraid to say hi! I’d love to make writer friends, especially in the high fantasy and mythological genres. And if you also make art for your writing, all the better!

I don’t reblog many things unless I have my own input to add, but feel free to reblog my work, especially if you have a comment or addition to something I’ve said.

If you want to see art unrelated to my story, as well as process photos, check out my insta under the same name.

Please do not use my artwork as a profile picture or banner unless you have commissioned me specifically for that work!

My WIPs and Characters

Main: Ga’avan the Mighty

Character List: Am’asy, Kys’so, Yetova, Arroti, Khoram, Jalur, San’ary, Khet, Kassa, Varasy, Nasee

Secondary: The First Emperor

Character List: Kyall, Fastar, Akasyr, Sharisa, Lereya, Garat, Gerall

Short Stories

The Red King

OC Boundaries

Fanart: YES, with credit.

Shipping: Only canon, do NOT ship with your OCs.

Kinning: I would strongly prefer if you did NOT.

Fanfic/writing: I would prefer if you did NOT. Or, at the absolute least, TELL ME about it if you do it and keep it SFW!

Drawing your OCs with mine: I would prefer if you did NOT.

NSFW of my characters?: DEPENDS. You can only draw as NSFW as I draw—look through my feed for guidelines, or ASK. I am not opposed to TASTEFUL artistic nudity or violence.

Cosplaying: DEPENDS—with credit and permission, most likely I will say yes.

Headcanoning/theorizing: Go right ahead. TELL ME your headcanons, you might end up being right.

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robobrainrot · 2 years ago

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@deliicacymercy made this amazing fanart for the fic snip-it I posted of Rory, so who am I to deny them the full chapter.

Here's the first chapter of "The Knack," my Transformers OC fic.

Notes: its a Knockout-Centric Fic with a human OC. Breakdown is alive and well. Optimus is alive and well. Set in the Prime Universe: Post Predacons Rising, Pre-RID15 (or disregarding RID15 in general)

Chapter 1: Never Happened

“Knockout. Are you coming back soon?” Breakdown asked through his radio.

“Soon enough.” He replied. Even though he was in vehicle mode, it sounded as if he was gritting his dentaplates. “I have a human watching me.”

His partner laughed through the intercom. “What? Afraid to blow you’re cover? You’ve never cared about that slag before. Where are you?”

“Sending my coordinates. I was on my way home but ran into some… trouble. I’m trying to keep a low profile. This human looks like a screamer.”

“Speeding again?”

“Bingo, BD. This area is flooded with human law enforcement vehicles. I swear it’s like there’s one on every corner… Prime said we’re supposed to be ‘robots in disguise.’ If I make another scene Ratchet will make me do hotspot duty. Again.”

“Right. Well-”

“Finally! The human is leaving. Knockout; Out.” He ended the transmission quickly as the human in question walked closer to the car. Instead of continuing down the sidewalk, they stopped next to Knockout’s side mirror. They pulled a piece of paper off the thing they had been fiddling with, then flipped it over and scribbled something on the back.

It took everything Knockout had not to smack them away as they lifted up one of his windshield wipers and tucked the paper neatly under it. He was trying to be a better bot. If he kept causing issues, the Autobots might have second thoughts about giving him so much freedom. He remained tense as the human placed their hand on his hood.

“Don’t see many beauties like you around here.” They said under their breath. “Thanks for letting me draw you. Love the sticker thing.” Then, they patted his hood and walked away.

Knockout sat there for a moment stunned. First, yes, he was quite beautiful. More humans should be like this one and notice that. Second, they had spoken to him. Not at him. Not to some fake driver. Him. Third, they had touched him. Their grubby little human fingerprints were no doubt on his hood now. He was going to have to pull over and fix that before returning to base. Not to mention whatever it was that they stuck under his window wiper. It was terribly itchy.

Still, he watched them turn the corner down the street. He had many questions. Were any of them worth pursuing? The blinking missed message from Breakdown on his dash told him no.

“Stay out of trouble, Speedster.” The text read.

He turned on his engine then rolled out. He would stay out of trouble… for now.

…

Knockout pulled over at an abandoned gas station far outside the city. He ran a quick scan and found no incoming vehicles in the immediate proximity. He was far enough from the highway to be out of sight as long as he remained under the canopy. He took a ‘running’ start and flipped into robot mode inches before ducking under cover.

First thing first; he pulled the thin sheet from between his plating. It had ended up in his abdomen under his central chest plate but it was easy enough to remove. Really, it was remarkable the little thing didn’t tear.

He was about to toss it aside but a streak of cherry red caught his attention. On the paper was a loose render of his alt. mode. It looked like the concept cars he’d seen in automobile enthusiast magazines. Knockout stared at the little image for a long moment.

It was beautiful, in a sort of imperfect way. Even the stray lines worked in its favor.

Artistry was not foreign to him. While he didn’t exactly consider himself an artist, he knew artistry well. When someone is passionate about something, it shows in their work. Which is how his finish looked the way it looked; Breakdown was always incredibly meticulous and careful. This had a similar level of care.

Why would the human leave this for him?

He turned it over to the back and found a short message. “Love the paint job. - @ky-ltd.”

“Kai L-T-D?” He repeated aloud incredulously.

Was this some kind of bribe? If they knew he was sentient, then was this some passive way of sucking up to him? Was he that obvious?

He shook the thought away. Maybe it was something he could ask Fowler about at a later date. Though, the agent was skeptical, at best, of the former Decepticon. Who’s to say he would answer him honestly.

Next problem: the smudge on his now chest plate. It was extremely tiny. Barely visible. But ‘barely’ might not cut it. If the Autobots thought he’d been hanging out with a human, he’d never hear the end of it.

He chuckled to himself at the thought.

Humans were disgusting.

Knockout pulled a microfiber cloth from his glovebox, which was now a small compartment in his chest. The graphite smear came off with a single swipe.

“There.” He sighed as he tucked the cloth away. “It never happened.” He paused to look at the little piece of paper between his digits. “It never…” Before he completed his thought, he shoved the paper in his glove box and flipped into vehicle mode.

[CHAPTER 2]

#THE KNACK #Rory Magellan #transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #knockout #fanfic #fan fiction #fic fanart #hello????#thank youuuuuuu #its literally so breatiful I screamed #that was my first time posting fic of any kind so to find art in my inbox about it was mindblowing #robobrainrot writes

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justmaghookit · 1 year ago

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Business Partners

Raphael/OC

SFW

A/N: A continuation of Contractual Obligations

Raphael’s senses were flooded with Belladonna, his scent, his voice, the taste of him on his tongue. His presence pressed in on him from all directions, smothering him. He wonders how deeply into his psyche Bella had pressed, how thoroughly he’d ingrained himself.

He’d always done his best to spend as little prolonged time in the other devils home as possible. Belladonna was a Fiernic devil, directly descended from the Archduchess herself and he had become nearly as infamous as her in his ability to manipulate other fiends, even when he’d been mortal he had been terribly good at worming his way under a devil's skin.

Bella as a devil himself was far more dangerous, his scent alone could lull someone into a false sense of security. Raphael had never felt more ill-at-ease due to a sense of comfort than he did after spending too many days in the other devil's company and right now he had little choice but to stay in his home while his body recovered from the damage it had suffered.

The humiliation hurts worse than the pain, the indignation that he suffered at the hands of those damned adventurers. His house fallen to disarray, most of his servants dead or scattered to the wind, his most valued treasures plundered. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been sequestered in Belladonna’s house, the Crown was likely long gone by now and that was the most painful part of all.

The second largest problem he currently faced was that he was unable to shed his current form. As fearsome, imperious and noble as his Ascended Form may be, it was somewhat inconvenient for regular business, it was difficult to charm prospective marks when they cowered in fear and a devil who could not exert control over himself was setting himself up for ridicule among his peers.

Belladonna could not hold Avernus’s court off for long, sooner or later one of Zariel’s minions would come looking to assess his worthiness to continue to run his business out of The First. If he was unable to regain complete control of his faculties by that time not only would it bring even more humiliation he would likely lose permission to run his House in Avernus, they would find him incompetent, repossess whatever was left in his house as Tax and then laugh him off the layer. To slink back to Cania after all these centuries was the last thing he desired.

He lounges across Belladonna’s bed, taking up a good third of the surface area of it. Ennui was a dangerous feeling for devils and yet as it stood Raphael saw little reason to fight against the rising listlessness, so many of his carefully laid plans had crumbled in such a short amount of time, he saw no way to salvage them.

“You look as miserable as a mange ridden hellhound Raphael.” Belladonna’s snide comment cuts through his thoughts like a knife and he blinks open a single eye to watch the younger devil saunter back into his room. He was all slim frilly shirts and tight leather pants, satin jacket cut to draw the eye to the dip of his waist. He smelt like honey and spices.

Bella carries a pile of scrolls under each arm and deposits them at his desk on the other side of the room. “Cheer up you old tom, I come bearing gifts outside my well sought after presence.” He hums, plucking several scrolls from the pile he had brought home with him.

“I’m afraid to ask.” Raphael groans. There was a not insubstantial chance a gift from Belladonna would be as useful as a kick to the balls.

“Oh don’t be like that, you’ll like this I’m sure.” Bella chirps, dropping the scrolls onto the bed near Raphael’s face.

The cambion adjusts himself on the bed, reaches out and plucks one of them to examine, he recognizes it instantly.

“These are…”

“Some of your more high profile relatively recent contracts, yes.” The other fiend answers before he can even finish asking.

He opens the scroll with a flick of his wrist and examines the contents, confirming that it was indeed one of his although with a single difference than the last time he looked this one over.

“The soul has been collected? Where is it?” He asks, swallowing down the spark of anxiety trying to twist his stomach at the thought of Bella tampering with his contracts.

“In the dungeons, kept in stasis, waiting for you. There are more to sort through but these five here were the best of the bunch. I organized for.. Let's call it an early collection of these souls.” Bella purrs, tail curling smugly.

“They should have been left to increase in value. These souls had a lot of potential left.” Raphael growls.

“I know that Raphael, but feeding you the energy from fodder off the market is getting you nowhere, and I will not feed you more of myself, even if I wanted to, Fierna would not allow it. You will simply have to pull as much suffering and misery from these souls as you can, and soon. Apparently Mizora is being sent to harass my door next.” Bella says, crossing his arms, giving the cambion a look that said ‘you should be grateful.’

Raphael sighs, dragging a hand over his face. Mizora would not be cowed like some of Zariel’s other minions, Bella would be unable to turn her away at the door without offending the Archduchess of the First. He groans and tries to bury his face into Bella’s bed, though finds it impossible in his current form.

His current form.

Suddenly, he has an idea.

“How are the mansion's Hunting Grounds Bella?” He asks.

“As well kept as they always are.”

“And your hounds? Your other pets?”

“Healthy, loyal and vicious. Why do you ask?”

Ignoring the aches and pains that twinged across his body, as he had experienced far worse, Raphael gets his arms under him and pushes himself up, arching his spine and stretching out his wings and tail. “Invite Mizora over for afternoon tea, I know exactly how to wring those souls dry.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x oc #c; belladonna darke #mags writes #more thing that appeals to only a small group of people

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rabbitenn · 1 year ago

Note

Not sure if you finished DanMaca since you just finished Part 4, but I’d love for you to write HCs for Vida, Schau, Kabane and Kuon. I’ll leave it up to you in terms of free creative liberty. 🥺🫶

WHERE THE SKIES END.

What are they like, when it comes to you?

ft. Vida (Kujo Tenn), Schau (Osaka Sogo), Kabane (Izumi Iori), Kuon (Nanase Riku) x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, danmaca au, so I’ll be using the names of the characters they play to refer to the boys. Spoilers for La Danse Macabre.

thank you for requesting this, dear ! I hope I managed to portray everyone according to your expectations <3

♡ VIDA (Kujo Tenn)

“Lay your burdens on me, I can bear all the weight of the world with you on my shoulders.”

— Vida, strongest fighter on the Surface, leader of Kokujohyako, wielder of a mighty scythe that can slice through anything as long as it's guided by his hand.

— In truth, he’s just a lonely man, whose heart had to become of iron and barbed wire in order to not sink alongside district 12.

— Bloodshed and death are his closest comrades in this desolate plane.

— And they must continue to be in order to keep those he loves safe.

— That’s his two friends, and, above all else, you.

— How did someone as bright as you bound up in such a region in the first place?

— You always had that sweet smile dancing on your lips, becoming sharp edged and mischievous when needed; you weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty and fight.

— Vida wishes you didn’t have to. What would it have been like, if no blood had ever stained your skin?

— From the top of a building that somehow has endured all disaster, he sighs. A gust of wind ruffles his hair, akin to threads of stardust carrying scattered wishes into a sunless sky.

— He hears steps. He knows that pattern by heart, his muscles relaxing; no need to draw his scythe, for no surprise enemy attack is coming.

— Just your footsteps, followed by your arms wrapping around him from behind.

— Your head rests on his shoulder, lips brushing the shell of his ear, his sweet scent dancing all around you, as the evening begins to settle in, the wind picking up with darkening skies.

— “Something on your mind, my Vida?”

— He sighs, those sunset eyes of his fluttering closed, hooded by the constellations in his lashes, at the same time the horizon dyes starlit.

— A soft sigh escapes your lover’s lips.

— “Nothing, nothing.” He says, that unadulterated smile that only appeared next to you, now on his features.

— “Are you sure?” You hug him a little tighter, your gaze focused on his perfect profile.

— He never really wanted to tell you when something was burdening him.

— Vida was always the type to shoulder everything alone, for the sake of those he loved.

— And yet, you knew. You knew what weighed down over his imaginary angel wings that at some point became tainted in soot and the darkness of death.

— He turns around, his warm stare and the crimson of his jacket, seemingly the only things still not devoid of color in this decaying world.

— “I am, now that you are here.” He whispers, with a kiss to your forehead.

— Vida is also the protective type (Tenn is too, if we consider how he acts towards Riku; in the same way he wants to keep his brother away from harm, he would do the same for his s/o, which applies to Vida as well).

— He doesn’t like it when you have to get involved in quarrels, and even less when you get hurt.

— The fate that awaits the unfortunate soul who ever dared to touch you in the first place… Well, let’s just say they’ll be begging for death soon enough.

— Feelings of guilt are not unusual guests in the strongest warrior on the surface’s mind either.

— For you to have to live like this… In absolute misery, quite literally fighting to stay alive every day… Vida just wishes, one day, district 12 could become a safe and happy place for you.

— Please, take his hands and comfort him in moments like this… No matter how deadly he can be in a fight, his soul is fine glass, the rose thorns enveloping it, a double edged blade, piercing his heart at the despair surrounding you.

— If it’s with you, however, Vida feels like blue skies are at the edge of his fingertips. The vivid gazes you send his way, all the sunshine he needs.

— He’ll find a better life for the two of you, and for his friends, he thinks, tightening his fingers around his poleaxe.

♡ SCHAU (Osaka Sogo)

“I’ll be there when the guns break out, ‘til the storm is over.”

— Schau, the apathetic and cold sniper of the Unity Order.

— To anyone else, he’d seem unapproachable, completely disinterested about everything happening around him. A conformist, if you will, as long as his peace and commodity are not disturbed.

— However, what most people don’t know, is the violet garden flowering on the other side of the icy waterfalls of his harsh stare.

— In the middle of that secret paradise, there was you.

— You, whose gentle fire melted the ice bullets lodged into his heart.

— By your side, the sharpshooter’s expressions became more noticeable, his lips tilting up in a rare crescent, often only seen on the sharpness of his precise shots.

— Schau might have held no regard for anything or practically anyone surrounding him, however, when it came to you, his blood pumped vigorously.

— His cool aura fell away, a rainbow of emotions gathering in whirlwinds ready to ride or die next to you.

— When it comes to romantic gestures, turns out the Unity Order’s marksman is quite the charmer.

— And without even trying.

— His touches just fluster you at the most unexpected moments.

— Like Vida, he is protective. Very protective (so, if anyone pursuing you is smart enough they’ll keep their distance. The guy carries a rifle around… I mean, I would not risk it.)

— Sometimes it’s one of his hands on the small of your back, as he escorts you to safety when he has training or duties to attend to. The way his touch lingers, hand hooking a little around your waist if anyone looks at you for too long, to let them know you’re taken… it makes your knees weak, butterflies spreading their wings in the pit of your stomach.

— On other occasions, were you to find yourselves under enemy fire, Schau shields you, one of his arms wrapped securely around your shoulders, pulling the two of you behind a wall.

— Using his other hand, he fires his rifle, taking down anyone who could ever pose a danger to you, no questions asked (he is very much like the actual Sogo in this aspect, you see).

— Honestly, it’d be pretty hard to fluster him.

— You’re his, so Schau just sees it as the most natural thing in the world to show these small (and a little possessive) affectionate gestures.

— However, when you return the actions, a warm feeling he hadn’t quite known before spreads through his chest.

— He likes it.

— He lives for those special moments with just you and him.

♡ KABANE (Iori Izumi)

“We knew this day was set long ago; and when the sharks smell the blood, they will all see it’s their own.”

— Smart, cautious and sharp, Kabane often lets out remarks laced in dark humor, regarding the regrets he holds for his immortality.

— If you happen to be a mortal, then his sorrow is infinitely more unbearable; condemned to endless wandering amongst the shadows of an underworld that won’t get to see your light anymore after you inevitably part.

— Thoughts of a future ominously nearing, compared to his centuries of existence, are enough to keep him awake at night.

— It doesn’t look like the moon will keep him any company down here.

— Rainy midnights are contained in the depths of his deep stare as he looks up at a solid sky.

— “Can’t sleep?” A voice he wishes would never be snuffed out asks, followed by the sound of light steps landing right by him.

— He lets out a breath, shoulders slumping. This isn't good, he isn’t being rational… Of course your paths will diverge someday but… that’s just how it’s bound to be.

— And he could never take that away from you, even if you’re the only thing that, right now, makes his existence bearable.

— “No, I guess I can’t.” He mumbles, to himself or to you, he is not entirely sure.

— You reply with a tender smile, scooting closer to him.

— “That makes two of us, then.” You rest your head on his shoulder; the lit torches, the closest thing to stars you could wish upon down here. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re not around, you know.”

— Those last words resonate in his mind like the chimes at midnight, as reality comes crashing down on him.

— There will come a day, when you will go your separate ways. What will it be like, when eternal sleep wraps their cloak of darkness around you forever? When an empty space is all that remains by his side?

— No, Kabane shakes his head. He can’t let such baleful thoughts take command of his mind.

— For as long as you’re here, he’ll protect you.

— He shrugs off his cape, wrapping it around you. You’re here with him; his coat, akin to a spell, making you invisible to the cold claws’ of the bitter end.

— At least, for a little longer; a lifetime to you, milliseconds to him.

Ah, the cruelty of the curse.

— If, on the other hand you’re immortal like him, then well, the withdrawn underworlder has at least one reason to not despise his existence so much.

— With you, the bleakness of the Underground lights up in colorful sparks, the glow of a thousand galaxies causing heat to rise to your partner’s cheeks, reflecting the colors you ignite inside his heart.

— Like the previous two boys, Kabane is pretty protective too. He’s always the one to patch up the bruises you get while exploring, his deft fingers delicate against your cheek as he disinfects the small cuts.

— His brow furrows in concern; no matter how much you insist that he needn’t tend to you like this, that your wounds will heal alone.

— You always love to pat his head in these instances, if only to see the cute blush that tints his pretty face.

— And honestly, eternity sounds very appealing to Kabane right now, if it means being on the receiving end of your tender affections.

♡ KUON (Nanase Riku)

“Our stories are past the horizon, we’re chasing the sun till we find them.”

— You always knew that, behind that innocent and enigmatic smile of his, a story of heartache and melancholy was waiting to be unfolded.

— Kuon was to you like some sort of fairytale; a little magical, mysterious; poetics you could spend hours attempting to decipher.

— You liked your time with him.

— You like him.

— If you’re a mortal who happens to stumble into the Underground, he doesn’t say anything about his past at first.

— Kuon will give you hints, however, in that roundabout way of his; the words he spins for your ears only, the code he desperately wants you to decipher.

— He is ready for the fleeting nature of your unforgettable presence through his endless existence.

— The ex celestial knows he’ll come to mourn you when you depart, but he’s more concerned as to how you will react when you figure out you’ll be unwillingly leaving him behind one day.

— That same melancholy smile is the first answer he offers you the moment you decode his message.

— No matter how much you beg of him to ask Kabane to make you immortal, or to at least investigate a way for you to stay with him for more time, he refuses.

— “I just can’t do that, my dear [Y/n].” Your lover utters, in that soft tone of his, smile never leaving his lips.

— “No! There must be some way!” You protest, bunching up your fists by your side. “I don’t mind living for an eternity, I don’t care how painful it becomes, I want to be with you, Kuon!”

— He doesn’t avert his gaze, reminding you of bright autumn leaves you can no longer quite remember.

— “It has to be like this…” He tells you, arms holding your shaking shoulders. “But I know we’ll meet again, after that, our paths are entwined, you know. They’ll eventually merge back together.”

— You are not certain how much of that statement is the truth and how much of it is just him trying to cheer you up.

— But whatever the case, you’ll make each moment next to Kuon one you can remember, looking back at it with a fond smile.

— If you’re immortal like him as well, then that’s okay with the both of you.

— Kuon might feel guilty for having burdened another person with the curse of never ending existence.

— However, you’re more than happy to spend centuries, millennia, with him.

— Waking up to your kisses and falling asleep with you in his arms… Those are pleasures the former celestial could never grow tired of.

— As long as he has you, every forever is a precious constellation of petals swaying to the melody of you.

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