#also like holy damn Sun looks so different from how I USED to draw him

[sketchy-tour]

OH WHATS THIS??? A MAN I HAVENT DRAWN IN, LIKE, A YEAR???

Yea remember when I originally was a sun and moon artist for two seconds? Legit popped into the fandom and then disappeared. Lmao

Anyway drew this on a magma with pals! Was kinda relaxing to doodle this dork again! Oh man I...really need to actually watch Help Wanted 2! Hadn't gotten a chance to!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program ���Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[rodeoxqueen]

Howdy howdy my queen, can I have HCs for our boys and female Nephilim s/o? Just found this interesting race in 'unnatural world wiki' XD

Howdy,

Fun fact: Nephilim is plural for Nephili, or one-half angel. Will be using the Bible for reference. I personally disagree with pop culture’s representation of angels. If that’s what you were looking for, you got the wrong cowboy. 

Either Go Old Testament Or Go Home,

Rodeo

Dante

“Damn, I’m one lucky half-devil. Managed to snag a half-angel.” 

He has no clue that angels were a thing, having spent his whole life dealing with demons. 

Dante will call you “Angel-face” and all sorts of angelic names. 

He relates to a life of being shunned. Nephilim are considered taboo in the angelic world, miscreants of human sin and godly downfall. 

The fact that you’re alive and kicking is a big middle finger to heaven’s status quo. Dante likes that. He knows about what happened to the Nephilim in the Old Testament and how brutal it used to be. 

Heaven sounds like a better place than Hell. You must miss it. Sometimes Dante holds you. You are a being robbed of salvation, now forced to walk where your human blood chains you. Dante is meant for Hell, his existence a betrayal to demons and humans. 

“We’re both pretty fucked up huh?” 

Most likely, as his father was worshipped, you may also have a cult worshipping your heavenly parent. 

“Whatever, I’ll always pray to you, babe.” 

Demons are always hunting him, angels probably hunt you down too. The two of you get along over that. 

He is also a bit cocky about it, his lover being his guardian half-angel. 

With Heaven coming down to smite you and Hell rising to drag Dante down, the two of you stick together all the time. 

He thinks it’s so funny when people think of you as more holy than him. You’re both terrifying forces of nature. 

You came from a line of giants that bested humans and was used for human endeavor and conquest. Dante never lets you forget that your kind helped humans, even if it was indirectly, and you are of good purpose now with your free will. 

Vergil 

Once again, humans mingle with powerful beings and birth taboo children not meant to fit with either group. 

Vergil survived being stabbed to death by his own kind, surrounded by flames; a Julius Caesar that rose to power after his intended execution, his crown the very blades that pierced his flesh. 

You were to be wiped out by the Great Flood, to drown with the rest of your siblings, your obituary was religious texts cursing your existence. There was no room in God’s heart for you.  

Now, you lay your head on his shoulder, two old testament tragedies of separate scriptures. No one quite feels how he feels as you do. 

You are still targeted and jeered at for your existence, and Vergil will draw his sword and kill anyone who does. 

“My beloved came from the giants that walked this earth, and I will cover her path with your bones.” 

One day, Vergil asks you about Heaven. And who goes to Heaven. Depending on your answer, will sate Vergil’s question if his mother is well-resting behind the golden gates. He doesn’t bring it up directly, only drawing a vague inquiry. 

Sometimes when you stare into the sky, Vergil feels the same way with how he used to stare down into Hell. You both wished you belonged to one place and stayed. It’s a good thing you’re spending this existential purgatory together. With each other, it feels like you’re really living. 

“You carry the same wounds over your heart as do I.” He confesses. 

You both protect each other and hold the other to this mortal earth, fingers pressing firmly into very human flesh. 

V 

He’s very lucky to have such a woman own his heart. 

The world needs more angels walking this earth, he’s glad you’re one of them. 

He’s partially demonic and he likes to see how you differ from him. Often, he traces your shoulder blades, whether or not you have wings like your brethren and sisters. 

“You carry heaven within you, and you are the only nirvana I know.” He would say to you, hand right where your heart is. 

V hates feeling helpless, yet with your angelic gaze, he can’t resist feeling the way he does. 

However, angels and other creatures hunt you down for sport, you being a rare and forgotten figment of the Old Testament. 

V will protect you with all of his being, you doing the same for him. 

The world is an evil place and even the esteemed angels may have blood on their hands, V knows this too well. The two of you know this too well. 

You had long fell to God’s Great Flood, no one to witness your wordless screams and choked cries as you dragged yourself to the shore of the new world; Whilst V laid naked and weak as Urizen emerged from their recent fission. The two of you contrast in your origins, the revenant from ancient scriptures and the two-day old human half to the disgraced King of Hell. However, the both of you share the same hatred for helplessness to your destinies. 

Roots intertwined, you set forth together unafraid. 

Regardless, V will remind you that it doesn’t matter what you are to the rest of the world. Nephil, Half-angel, half-human, you are only the Little Wanderer to him. 

As you lay in the morning sun, the streams of light shining on V’s dark head of hair and long eyelashes, you wonder who the angel really is.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,��� Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[thiswasinevitableid]

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

---------------------------------------

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

--------------------------------

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

----------------------------------

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

------------------------------------------

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

[youare-mysonshine]

funhouse || oscar diaz

Summary: reader convinces Oscar to go ghost hunting with her in an abandoned house and it’s both hilarious and terrifying.

Requested: yes! @varzling

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x reader, Jamal Turner x reader (platonic)

Warnings: cussing as per usual

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I loved this so much lmao I was born one week before halloween and I was obsessed with scary movies and spooky shit before I could even properly talk. I had the Chucky doll and my uncle called me Chucky because I was obsessed with that movie. This was one of my favorites to write because paranormal and horror stuff is my fav! This is me, I am reader lmao this was fun to write! I also did this in second person pov rather than third person which is what i normally do. let me know if you prefer this or if you prefer third person.

________________

“No.”

“Baby, come on! Please?”

It had all started when Jamal had mentioned in passing that there was an abandoned house only a few blocks away from where you lived. An abandoned house that people assumed was haunted. He had mentioned that he wanted to go ghost hunting with some equipment that he had bought but had been wary of it because he didn’t want to go alone.

You loved that stuff. Paranormal shit was your absolute favorite, so naturally, you agreed to go with Jamal. You were absolutely buzzing with excitement, and you had put it in your mind to convince Oscar to go with you two - but you knew that it wouldn’t be an easy feat.

You knew Oscar better than anyone and you knew just how jumpy and how fearful he was of paranormal stuff, which you found rather amusing given just how much of an intimidating man he was. Shit, people called him Spooky. You always took the time to tease him about it - you’d sneak up behind him wrapped in a white sheet (like a ghost) just to scare him, which he certainly didn’t appreciate it, but you found absolutely hilarious.

So getting him to agree to go with you and Jamal to ghost hunt was certainly a mission.

“Nah. I ain’t going.” He said, taking a drag from the cigarette he was smoking. You stood in front of him, holding his free hand and giving him those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t resist. That would be why he wouldn’t meet your eyes, why he was looking everywhere but you, because he knew damn well he’d give in if he looked at you. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oscar, please!” You dragged the word out, jutting your bottom lip out. “It’ll be fun!” That was when he finally looked at you, raising one of his perfectly arched eyebrows, a look that said ‘fun? Yeah right.’ “No, I’m serious. It’ll be fun. It’s like.. a cool, adventurous date night. When’s the last time we went out on an actual date together?”

“Jamal is going. I don’t think it’d be a date night if that travieso is going.”

“Okay, date night plus one. Baby, please come on. I want you to go. You don’t have to be scared. I’m sure it’s not haunted. Jamal said it was just rumors, and rumors are almost always just that - rumors. People see an abandoned creepy house and automatically assume that it’s haunted when it’s probably not.” You said, interlocking your fingers with his own. His fingers immediately tightened around your own, giving your hand a small squeeze. He took in another drag, those dark eyes you loved so much staring right into your own. The setting sun was hitting him just right, giving his eyes a honey colored look. Under the glow of the setting sun, he almost looked ethereal. Perfect.

“I ain’t scared.” He spoke, voice deep and gruff. You scoffed, giving him a tiny smirk.

“Really? Then prove it. Come with us tonight. You can protect me if I get scared. My big, scary Santo. My Spooky.” You walked forward, closing the already small space between the two of you, settling between his legs. Given he was sitting and you were standing, he was left looking up at you, you looking down at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers drawing random little shapes on his tan skin. You leaned your head down, your y/h/c/ hair falling from behind your shoulders. The tattooed man reached one hand up and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it there and instead used it to pull your head down further and further until there was nothing but a few mere centimeters between your lips.

You could feel his lips ghosting over your own, you could practically taste the cigarette he was smoking, the Red Bull he was drinking. It was entirely Oscar and you loved it. Closing your eyes, you finally closed the gap and connected your lips to his. Each kiss with Oscar felt as if it were the first one you shared. It never failed to take your breath away. As cliche as it was, it gave you butterflies. It sent tingles throughout your entire body. And you hoped that feeling would never fade away.

The hand that was cradling your cheek/head slid down your body until it came upon your ass, where Oscar grabbed a handful of supple skin and gave it a squeeze. You let out a small giggle against his lips and pulled away, eyes opening, lips slightly wet with saliva. You gave him the look, that small little smile on your eyes, eyes shining bright. Your man let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the sky, as if he were pondering and asking god why the hell he could never say no to you.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go. But we ain’t staying long.” You gave him a grin, leaning down to kiss his lips once more.

“Yes! It’s gonna be fun, papas!”

And nighttime came sooner than Oscar would’ve liked. He didn’t outwardly admit it, but he was low-key nervous about going to this supposed haunted house. He was entirely and completely afraid, but he fully believed that there were ghosts, spirits, demons, things of that sort and he never wanted to dabble into that kind of shit for fear of being haunted or possessed. He was more afraid of the enemy that he couldn’t see than the enemy he could.

You and Oscar had climbed into his cherry red impala and went on your way to pick Jamal up at his house and no less than a second after you had arrived, the boy had come bounding out dressed in all black, carrying a backpack.

“I’m gonna regret this.” Oscar said as he caught sight of Jamal’s grinning face. You opened up the passenger side door and scooted over so that you were in the middle and Jamal could sit down. The young teen climbed into the car, shut the door and set his backpack down on the car floor.

“Spooky. Lady Spooky.” He greeted you both. You laughed softly at the name, meanwhile Oscar just stared straight ahead, putting the car into drive and pulling away from Jamal’s house.

“Hey Jamal.” You greeted, giving him a friendly smile. Despite the age difference, you genuinely loved and cared for all of Cesar’s friends. After all the shit that they had been through, you just wanted to try and alleviate some of the pressure and stress, you wanted them to feel like they weren’t alone. Maybe that’s also why you were so keen on accompanying Jamal on his ghost hunting journey.

After Oscar had asked for the directions of this supposed haunted house, with Jamal reiterating that lots of people had said it was haunted so it had to be true, he gave the direction and you three were on your way. You were actually buzzing with a nervous excitement. You had never done anything of the sort before, even if you’d always wanted to. But you were definitely nervous of what you’d find.

“What’s in the backpack?” You asked, nodding down at the black backpack that looked full to the brim with things. The over excited teenager gave a triumphant grin as he leaned down ever so slightly and scooped it up. He dropped it down onto your lap, the opening facing his direction, and you let out a little ‘oof’.

“I thought you’d never ask. Okay so, after finding out about this abandoned/ haunted house, I decided to create a ghost hunting pack. I ordered some stuff online. Let’s see..” He unzipped the backpack and began pulling things out one by one.

“I got this spirit box. This shit was not cheap either so it better work.” He pulled out this relatively large contraption that you probably didn’t know how to use.

“What’s that for?” Oscar piped in, taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance over at what Jamal was holding.

“This is basically for whatever entity or spirit is present to communicate with us. We just turn this on, ask questions and wait for someone to talk back to us.” He set the spirit box down on his lap and then rummaged around the backpack again.

“A flashlight. I seriously doubt that janky place has functioning electricity. We’ll definitely need this. Also got us some walkie talkies incase we need to split up and cover some more ground.” You were genuinely amazed at how much stuff this kid could fit into a single backpack. And how seriously he seemed to be taking this entire thing.

“I also got this Digital thermometer to tell when the temperature has dropped. Apparently when there is an entity present, shit gets cold real fast. Let’s see… Oh! I also have holy water! And I brought the Bible. And a ouija board.”

“You fucking what?” You asked, lifting the backpack open to reveal that there was indeed a ouija board, a bible and holy water sitting inside.

“Oh hell nah. You ain’t using the ouija board up in there. You about to make us get a ghost.” Oscar said.

“And, don’t you think that if we used the ouija board while having these religious artifacts, we could potentially let something.. I don’t know, demonic in and make it angry?” You added.

“Okay first off, get a ghost? What the hell? How do you get a ghost? Do you purchase it? Is there a ghost store that I don’t know about?” He shot his words at Oscar, face twisted up in confusion. Oscar’s face had annoyance written all over it. You rested your hand on his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Second of all, that is why I brought the holy water and the Bible, woman! You two are amateurs, seriously. If we were to potentially let something demonic in, we’d fend it off with holy water while reciting words from the Bible. Besides, Oscar has the cross necklace and the cross tattoo. No ghost or demon is fucking with him. Although, I did hear that demons usually tend to possess people who are angry, upset, vulnerable. Not that Oscar is vulnerable, but he looks like he’s about to pop a vein half the time. He’s ground zero for a demonic possession.”

The car went dead silent. You bit your lip to keep from laughing or snickering. Jamal went silent because he thought Oscar would boot him out of the moving car. And Oscar went silent because he was now genuinely pondering if he’d get possessed. He saw The Conjuring, he saw what that shit did.

“Jamal.. maybe you shouldn’t say that to someone when we’re about to go and investigate a potentially haunted house.” You said, glancing over at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. The young teen, eyes wide, mouth in a nervous smile, nodded his head rapidly.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean just forget what I said, seriously. It’s probably factually incorrect. Besides, they’re just rumors, about the house being haunted and all. Although, the rumors and speculation have come from many people so I don’t think all those people would be making that shit up-“

“Jamal! Zip it!” You quickly said, not wanting Oscar to back out and end the ghost hunting trip before it even began.

“Yeah okay, shutting up.”

The drive to the house lasted about four to six minutes more. Soon, the impala came to a stop in front a decrepit, creepy two story house that had grass and weeds growing wild all over the place. The fence that was probably once white was now rusted. The house itself had paint that had chipped away overtime. Graffiti decorated the walls. Some gang tagging, some random names, random drawings, stuff of the sort. It was just as creepy as everyone had said. You couldn’t imagine what the inside was like.

“Okay, let’s do this, team.” Jamal opened the passenger side door, his backpack repacked with all of his supplies situated on his back. You turned and looked over at Oscar to find him with an apprehensive look on his face. You gave him a small smile.

“You’re seriously not afraid, are you? Everything will be fine. Come on.” You leaned in and pecked his lips before climbing out of the car. You shut the door behind you, the driver’s side door following suit. Oscar came up next to you and you immediately took his hand into your own and laced your fingers together. With Jamal leading the way, the two of you followed behind him past the rusted gates, up the dirt and overgrown grass covered path that led up the rickety front steps.

“Okay, how are we doing this? Are we splitting up? Sticking together?” You asked.

“We ain’t splittin’ up. We’re stickin’ together.” Oscar interjected before Jamal could say anything. Jamal suddenly whipped around, coming to a stop in front of you and Oscar. He shone the bright light into your faces and you and your boyfriend recoiled from the bright light. You held your hand up, pushing the flashlight away. The teen then held the flashlight underneath his chin, illuminating his face.

“I think we should split up. That way we could cover more ground.” He said, still illuminating his face. Oscar on the other hand, was not relenting, and you knew that even though he had said yes to you, it didn’t mean he’d agree to split up.

“This is non negotiable. We ain’t splittin’ up. You didn’t even bring enough flashlights for us, genius.” The older male pointed. Jamal switched the flashlight off and nodded his head.

“Okay good point. Fine, we’ll stick together.” He quickly pulled his backpack off and rummaged around, pulling out three items. “You, hold that.” He thrust the Bible into your hands. “And you, take this.” He handed Oscar the holy water. “Just in case. We need to be fully prepared and take precaution in case there already is some sort of demonic infestation.” He spoke, all the while pulling out the Digital thermometer and switching it on. Once he had it in hand, he situated the backpack on his back again, picked his flashlight up and switched it on.

“Let the ghost hunting commence.” Finally descending up the porch steps, Jamal came to a stop in front of the front door and you could see that the boy was actually starting to get nervous now. With his flashlight nestled between his arm and his side, he slowly twisted the doorknob with his hand and for a few seconds, you thought that it might’ve been locked, but the door opened. A few creaks were heard and it had the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Jamal stepped into the house first. “Hello ghostly spirits that inhabit this home. We mean you no harm. We come in peace!” He belted out, announcing your presence.

“Oh fuck this. I ain’t goin’ in.” Oscar suddenly said, letting go of your hand, refusing to set foot inside the house. You and Jamal whirled around to face your skittish boyfriend.

“Are you serious? Are you really scared right now? Your name is Spooky! You run a gang but you’re scared of ghosts? Invisible beings?” Jamal asked, incredulously. Oscar clenched his jaw, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, this shit is scary! My tio from my mom’s side of the family got a ghost when he was two years old and he was never the same again. After that, he only walked backwards!”

“He was two! Maybe he just liked walking backwards!”

You shook your head at the bickering, a breathless chuckle leaving your lips - Oscar had told you countless time about his uncle that only walked backwards after he had been supposedly possessed, but each time you still found it amusing. Deciding not to waste time listening to the bickering of your boyfriend and actual teenager, you pushed past Jamal and into the house, taking the flashlight from him in the process.


“What the- What the hell? I am the appointed leader of this ghost hunting trio, I hold the flashlight and the thermometer.” Jamal finally snapped back to reality at your actions and he snatched the item back from you.

“Well, leader, if you and Oscar would stop fighting, maybe we could actually get some shit done. If something is here, I’m sure you two just woke it up with your loud ass voices.” You commented, shooting Oscar a look. “Baby, you promised.” You held your hand out, the hand not holding the Bible, out to him and he reluctantly took it, stepping into the house that would fuel his nightmares for days to come no doubt.

“See? That wasn’t so bad was it, Spooky? You walked into the house and did anything jump out at you or possess you? No!” Jamal sassed, pointing the flashlight at your seething but definitely frightened boyfriend. With teeth clenched, he looked at Jamal.

“If I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you.” He said. Jamal gaped, mouth open like a fish.

“Okay, okay! Stop, children. Let’s do this. Come on.” You snapped you fingers, lightly smacking Jamal with the Bible in your grip.

“Okay, yes. Let’s not get distracted from the mission.” Jamal whipped around, flashlight scanning around the empty but dusty, dirty room which appeared to be a living room. The entire house gave you eerie vibes. Despite the bickering going on mere moments ago, the hair on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel goosebumps rising on your skin.

“The temperature is the same. Oh wait, it dropped. Oh my god it dropped like one degree. Okay, something is definitely with us. We need to whip out the spirit box”

“Jamal, I don’t think that really tells us that anything is here.” You said, looping your arm through Oscar’s, finding comfort in the warmth he provided.

“You’re right. Let’s keep looking. Let’s go in here.” All three of you walked into what you assumed to be the living room, scanning around. The moonlight was creeping in from the busted windows, not leaving you entirely submerged in the dark which you appreciated.

“I’m gonna whip out the spirit box and see if we can make some contact.” Jamal kneeled down, rummaging through the backpack until he pulled out the spirit box. He set the thermometer down in the meantime, firing up the spirit box instead. It emitted this loud noise, almost like white noise you hear on a television when nothing is playing. Except it was loud and it definitely gave you the chills and the creeps.

“Hello spirits that may be present. I’m Jamal. That’s Oscar and Y/N.” He introduced.

“Why in the fuck are you using our names? What if they find us or some shit? I aint trynna have a ghost that knows my name.”

“Ignore the angry man. He’s terrified right now.” Jamal said, shooting a pointed look at Oscar. You gave his arm a squeeze glancing up at him.

“Relax baby. Everything is gonna be okay. Even if there is something here, I highly doubt that it’s bad.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder. He said nothing, just leaned down and kissed your temple.

“Is there anything or anyone here right now?” He asked. All three of you remained quiet, waiting with baited breath, waiting to hear if something actually responded back. But nothing came. And you didn’t know if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Is there anyone in the room with us?” Again nothing. “Is there anyone in this house besides us?”

“Up.” The three of you stood taller, eyes wide and alert, hearts hammering in your chest. At least your heart was beating erratically at that point, shocked that something actually responded.

“Uh.. can you.. can you say that again please..” Jamal’s voice quivered as he spoke, and mere seconds after he said it, the distorted, monotone voice was heard again.

“Up.”

“Up? Up.. What do you mean up?”

“Doll.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. It said doll. What the freak..” Jamal exclaimed, eyes wide.

“It said up and it said doll. It probably wants us to go upstairs. Come on.” You let go of Oscar’s arm, despite his protests, and rushed over to where the stairs were, using the moonlight as a guide. You hid behind the wall and listened as rushed footsteps hurried closer to you, Jamal murmuring about how you all agreed to stick together.

“Bebe, don’t fuckin’ go off like that in a house like this-“ But neither of the guys finished what they were saying, ranting, about. As soon as they had both rounded the corner, you jumped out from your hiding position and screamed, scaring them both.

Jamal let out a shrill yell, jumping back, while Oscar let out a very loud and audible fuck while jumping back as well. Meanwhile, you were laughing, hands on your knees, lips pulled back into a wide grin.

“Got ya asses! Pendejos.” You exclaimed, still laughing. Jamal was calming down, and Oscar looked just that bit more freaked out, glaring at you.

“Christ on a cracker woman! What the shit was that? You just can’t be sneaking up on people like that! Shit!” He exclaimed.

“I’ma get you back, just watch.” Oscar spoke. But of course, you didn’t take his threat seriously, and it wasn’t like you were actually scared. You knew he’d never hurt you, and he had been scared by you enough times to be used to it. But it never failed to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to. I wish I had a damn camera to take a picture of that.” You said, calming down. “So, are we going upstairs or what?” You asked, looking at the guys, hands on your hips.

“We are going up the stairs. And you, missy, better watch yourself.” He pointed his index and middle fingers at you before pushing past you to walk up the dusty stairs. You stood by Oscar’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Don’t be mad at me, babe. I had to do it. It was priceless.” You said. “I’ll make it up to you later.” You said in a softer voice.

“You fuckin’ better, Chiquita.”

With Jamal up ahead of you, he opened up the first door he came upon, shining the flashlight in the dark and decrepit room.

“Uh, guys.. I think I found the doll..” He spoke, creeping a little further into the room. You and Oscar followed behind Jamal, eyes wide and searching the empty room. Strewn on the floor, illuminated by the flashlight was a raggedy ann doll. It was torn up and covered in dust and dirt. The fact that it was just laying there was creepy as hell.

“I’m not liking this shit. Not one bit.” Jamal murmured, still pointing the flashlight at the doll, almost as if he were waiting for it to jump up. You sighed, removing your arm from around Oscar to walk closer to the doll.

“Jamal, this thing isn’t Chucky. It’s not gonna come to life and jump out at you.” You knelt down and picked the dirty doll up. One of the eyes was missing and the face was just as dirty as the rest of it. A sense of dread filled you when you did that.

“Uh.. Y/N, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The original Annabelle doll, the one the movie is based off of, was a raggedy ann doll just like that one.” Fear had crept into Jamal’s voice.

“Hey, shh. Be quiet.” Oscar suddenly spoke up. The three of you went silent and listened. Coming from down below sounded like footsteps, like someone was walking around the house. They weren’t loud, but they were still audible. Goosebumps creeped up over your skin and you immediately let go of the doll, gravitating towards Oscar’s side. Sure, it was all fun and games until you actually started hearing shit.

“Someone’s here.” Your boyfriend said, on high alert now.

“Someone.. or something..” Jamal said. “Okay let’s go one last session with the spirit box and then get the hell out of here.” He said, firing up the box once more.

“How about we get the hell out of here now. I been on these streets a long time and I ain’t gonna die in this sucia ass house.” Oscar said, hands balled up, antsy and anxious to leave.

“You are not gonna die, Jesus Christ. Would you take a chill pill?” Jamal said. “Spirit, ghost, demon - whatever you are. We came upstairs and we found the doll. Are you here with us?”

“Jamal.” It said.

“Oh shit.” The boy in question said.

“Y/N.. Oscar.. Out.”

“Out.. it said out.”

None of you had the chance to say anything else because coming from what seemed like the next room over was a loud crash that sent the three of you jumping and reeling backwards.

“Okay, I know I scared you guys earlier but that wasn’t me. Holy shit, that was not me. What the fuck was that?” You asked, your voice taking on a more frightened tone, you hands clutching at Oscar’s arm.

“Fuck this.” Oscar reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a black gun he had tucked in there, for safety.

“You brought a gun?!” You and Jamal both said at the same time, both looking at your boyfriend incredulously. Oscar clutched the gun in his hand, looking over at the door as if he were expecting someone to burst in.

“I sure as fuck wasn’t comin’ out here naked.” He said, voice deep and husky.

“Well shit, what in the hell are bullets gonna do against a ghost? Nothing! Nada! There’s no use in that! You should’ve brought a water gun! Filled with holy water! I even supplied the holy water and you’re holding it!”

“Then maybe you should’ve brought the god damn water gun if you’re so-“ Oscar was cut off by the spirit box, which was still turned on, letting out a distorted ‘Get.. out..’ Which was promptly followed by a loud bang that sounded much closer. You and Jamal let out screams, and Oscar put the gun away and reached out to grab you, urgency in his movements. Meanwhile you reached out to Jamal, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with you.

“Okay, we’re leaving. Now!” Neither you or Jamal protested. Instead the three of you hightailed it the fuck down those stairs as if your asses were on fire, the three of you too freaked out to even consider staying any longer. When you reached the bottom level of the house, there was no sign of anyone being down there. It wasn’t like there was many places a person could hide given the minimal amount of furniture.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, another loud crash which sounded a lot like a door slamming shut, came from above, prompting you all to run even faster towards the front door. Oscar pulled it open, the door slamming and bouncing against the wall from the sheer force of your boyfriend’s actions. The three of you ran down the porch steps, down the path and to his car.

You pulled the door open and practically flew inside the car while Jamal and Oscar quickly followed suit and climbed in. There wasn’t a second’s hesitation as Oscar turned the key in the ignition and started the vehicle, making quick work and pulling away from the curb and driving away from the house.

His hands were clenching the steering wheel so tight you could see his skin s starting to turn white. Meanwhile your heart was thundering so loud in your chest you could hear it in your ears and you wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar and Jamal could hear it too. The boy beside you was panting, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

“Holy shit balls.” He finally broke the silence that had fallen the three of you as Oscar went well past over the speed limit to try and get away from that house. “There are ghosts in that house. It is haunted. There is something there. And we witnessed it. Holy shit, team. We did it!” He exclaimed, looking at you and Oscar.

“Yeah we did. We probably got a fucking ghost.” Oscar said, briefly looking at Jamal.

“Well.. my money’s on Y/N. She’s the one that picked up the doll after all.” This time it was your turn to glare at Jamal.

“Jamal! Callate!” You said. Oscar, from beside you, let out a deep laugh.

“Come on baby. Don’t be scared.” You knew he teasing you, you could just hear it in his voice. And when you looked back at him, he wore that damn smirk on his face. You scowled at your boyfriend, arms crossing over your chest. “Don’t be scared. You wanted to come and ghost hunt.” He said, driving to Jamal’s house to drop him off. “Keep that same energy.”

“Just like you said to Jamal - if I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you, mi amor.” You threw at him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Okay in all seriousness - I heard that there was another supposedly haunted house a few miles from here. When do you guys wanna go and explore that one? Next week? Friday? Satur-“

“How about never. We ain’t doin’ that shit again. You can go by yourself next time, homie.”

[draven-imani]

Journal 5 (Part 2)

So. Yeah. Commander Irabeth Tirabade gave me a temporary field promotion. Although she said there wasn’t much of the Raven Corps left to speak of at the moment. Apparently, a certain Golden Boy had commandeered as many people as he could convince to come with him on a mad quest into the Worldwound after the attack and our group fell underground. He has an entire legion following him, which he dubbed the Silver Legion. She said it was likely he’d be back soon for a supply run.

Damn. I always knew Leto would go far. But to rally the troops on his own without any preestablished backing and just…go for it? I don’t know how he does it. We walked the same path and yet somehow he’s always been in a completely different league than me. I don’t envy him, not in the slightest. I’m in awe, more like. It’s like looking at the sun. It’s incomprehensible.

Ah. I wish he were here instead of there, though. He’d know how to handle this whole ‘Acting Captain’ thing. I feel in over my head already. I don’t want a position of power. I don’t want people’s lives in my hands. I only thought I wanted to go up the ranks when I was an idealistic kid with no idea what that meant. Now…the idea of giving the order that gets someone killed sickens me…

But if Commander Tirabade is the one who gives me that responsibility, I don’t think I’ll be able to say no.

I was starting to doubt…a lot, the last couple of days, honestly. Everything about Luna threw things into question. And then we found out Baphomet cultists infiltrated the church. And then Auriel died. And then I first talked to Radiance…and heard their threats. The threats from a holy weapon that sounded like they should have come from a demon. That stung. That shook me.

But then we met Irabeth Tirabade. And even in person she represents everything I have ever strived to be. Both in the sense of a former Raven Corps member who pulled herself out and into a position to actually be of use to the world, but also in the sense of how an Iomedae worshipper should carry themselves. She’s noble and strong and honorable, but she’s not quite so stuck in her ways as Auriel was, she seems to see things the way they are, and have been in the past, and she seems to be willing to admit when things are rotten and need to be fixed. I respect her. A lot. I…don’t want to disappoint her.

Aaaaand that means, if she gives me a responsibility, I have to rise to the task…even if I really really reeeeeeeeally don’t want to.

Commander Tirabade told me to give her a full report of everything that had happened. Which is exactly what I’d been keeping this journal for. So I gave her my report, and had the others chime in where my memory or note taking didn’t serve adequately. Then I showed her Radiance. I didn’t really think about it, because I thought since she was a paladin that Radiance wouldn’t be quite so ‘I’m going to flay you alive’. Or maybe I just wasn’t thinking, because she was Irabeth Tirabade and I’m dumb. That’s more likely. Anyways Radiance started burning her hands, so I quickly took them back.

And I may have admonished them out loud for doing that. To which Radiance basically asked ‘what part of chosen wielder don’t you understand?’ which…fair, but I guess I kind of thought Radiance was the one deciding whether or not to start hurting someone for touching it with how they’d worded it last time. I didn’t think it just happened.

The others were looking at me like I was crazy and asked if I was talking to my sword. So then I had to explain that Radiance is a magic intelligent weapon and also really picky about who wields them.

(And I got a little off track figuring out Radiance’s pronouns here. The answer boiled down to ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender, call me whatever you want’, so I’m sticking with they since it’s neutral. Must be nice being a formless weapon spirit who can just give a copout answer like ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender’. I’d not conform to my mortal view of gender if I could, but I have a flesh prison with all that gender-y stuff that comes with it.)

So then one of them, I forget who, commented about me being the chosen wielder of Radiance. And I think I laughed. I corrected them. No, I wasn’t the chosen wielder. The others pointed out I was wielding them, it sure looked like I was. So I explained what Radiance had already explained to me. That Auriel had been meant to wield them. That I was only holding them now because Auriel didn’t make it this far, and because Auriel’s soul vouched for me.

Commander Tirabade gave her condolences to us about Auriel, and asked that I tell her as much as I could about him later, as someone was going to give a eulogy for all who had been lost in the battle against the demons soon and she would make sure given his heroic sacrifice that he was given the send off he deserved.

Then Anevia rejoined the conversation, having been listening in on the sword talk. She called Irabeth over and asked her about the sword she had lied about selling. Anevia proved even with a sweet voice and a smile to be scarier than the much larger and more fearsome looking commander. Commander Tirabade admitted that she had sold her sword in exchange for an anniversary gift for Anevia. A potion that permanently changes one’s gender.

Aaaaand looking back I really hope the talk about pronouns was not uncomfortable, I was legitimately trying to be polite to the sword, despite Radiance never once extending the same courtesy to me.

Anyways.

By the end the Commander determined that it would be a good idea for us to continue taking out the safehouses, but she had another mission for us as well once that was done. Something big. She told us that another of Deskari’s generals was on her way here—the witch Arelu Vorlesh. We had heard rumors of this from drifters on the streets as well. The crusaders had managed to get information that Deskari’s cult had holed up in Old Kenabres, making a stronghold of a temple to the Inheritor known as the Grey Garrison. There was a piece of the wardstone left still intact, and Arelu was coming to corrupt it. If she was successful, the Commander believed Arelu was going to turn the wardstone into a weapon that would decimate the crusaders on the battlefield.

With that in mind, she had a librarian from the Blackwing come forward with a magical rod. I’m not one for the arcane, but Hiskaria sounded extremely in awe and almost equally disturbed by the implications of the rod, a ‘rod of cancellation’. The important part I gathered was that if Hiskaria used the rod on the wardstone, then it would destroy it.

Melody was hesitant, wondering if there was any way to eventually fix the wardstone and restore the barrier to save the city. Commander Tirabade said no. It had been created hundreds of years ago, when times were less turbulent, and with divine intervention. We had neither the means nor the time, and every moment we left the wardstone intact was a moment Arelu could return to attempt to corrupt it to her own purposes. Better that it was destroyed than in enemy hands.

We agreed. The Commander said that she would not order this strike until we had cleared out all of the safehouses, so that they had nowhere to fall back to, and no reinforcements to call upon, or else the strike would be a suicide mission. But once we had finished ridding the city of their other bases of operations, she would have an army march on the main forces of Deskari, drawing their attention, while our small strike force took the Grey Garrison.

With a plan in place, we decided that today we would at least take down one more safehouse before we rested. I was the only one really in need of any rest, and Commander Tirabade offered that the clerics of the crusades were at our disposal before we left so that we would not have to use our own limited supplies. Once my remaining injuries from those blasted vultures were healed, we set out.

We came upon some looters, who had overturned the caravan of a handful of survivors and were picking through it. We discussed, and decided we didn’t particularly want to kill these guys, just spook them. So Luna pulled up her hood and donned her Butcher persona, then went after the looters, threatening that she would add them to her pile of the dead if they didn’t abandon this cart to her. It worked, and they fled for their lives.

Luna removed her hood and we approached the survivors. They were frightened after that display, but glad to have their supplies back. We pointed them in the direction of Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode, and told them to let them know we’d sent them, as we’d seen a number of refugees being housed safely there.

After that we continued on our way, until we came upon the Tower of Estrod. From the note we’d gotten off Hosilla, there was a passcode, “I’ve new material for the archives”. Since we knew this, and we knew Hosilla’s face, we formed a plan. Melody was able to use the magic of her scale of Trendalor to disguise herself as Hosilla. I was to pretend to be one of the Baphomet worshippers who was a false Iomedaen. And Luna was merely being a more exaggerated version of herself, using her infamy as the Butcher of Balestreet to her advantage. Hiskaria didn’t want to go inside and be stuck in close quarters, so she remained outdoors on lookout, listening for any sign of things going badly. After some discussion, Melody had handed off Auriel’s scale to Hiskaria, and explained how it worked to her. The scales couldn’t be used together, so Melody needed to hand it off regardless, and it seemed right that since Hiskaria was going to be helping us for the foreseeable future, she should be the one to hold it. And as an archer the levitation ability it granted would be of more use to her than to any of us.

With a plan in mind, the three of us walked into the proverbial lion’s den. Two cultists of Baphomet were lounging about on the bottom floor. Believing they recognized Melody as Hosilla, they let us in, and told us to meet with a man on the upper floor by the name of Faxon. We followed Melody’s lead, and went up the stairs. At the top of the tower, we found a tiefling with a scorpion upon his shoulder. He spoke smugly to ‘Hosilla’, and had a very…slimy feel about him. I got the impression that he and Hosilla were not on good terms, perhaps even that Stauton Vhagn pit them against each other and that’s why he was having Hosilla check up on him, just to rub salt in the wound. Unfortunately, Melody didn’t quite know how far to press, and backed down too soon, after making her ‘report’, agreeing to return downstairs with little bite back. When questioned about what I knew, I did the safe thing and pled ignorance, claiming to merely be Hosilla’s guard and not someone in a position to have information. When asked, Luna said she was just there for the kills, nothing more nothing less.

As Melody went to have us return downstairs, Faxon called Luna back to him. I had a bad feeling, but Luna shrugged it off and said to go on without her. Melody decided that maybe we could take out the cultists downstairs quietly while he had whatever discussion he wanted with her. I agreed, although we never got the chance. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of violence broke out upstairs, and the two downstairs were alerted that something was amiss. Melody and I decided it would be best for us to guard the stairs and make sure these two couldn’t sneak up on Luna from behind first before going upstairs to try to help her finish with Fenox.

I took care of one of the cultists swiftly, with Radiance spurring me on, the both of us eager to put an end to the evils of these worshippers of the Minotaur. The sounds upstairs began to die down, as Melody took a stab at the other from the stairs with Hosilla’s glaive. He tried to flee. Melody wasn’t going to allow that. She leapt from the stairs, and with far less regard for a glaive that isn’t her family’s sentimental one, she used it to pole-vault at the cultist, landing behind him and swinging around to stab at him once again. Still he was up. He almost made it to the door.

Just in time for Hiskaria to open the door and shoot an arrow in his face.

Somehow by some twisted luck he was still going, but Melody caught up with him once again, and maaaay have decided to show off a little to our new companion as she leapt in the air and skewered the man, finally dead.

All was quiet. I was about to be concerned about what might have happened to Luna, but then Hiskaria told me about the absolutely ridiculously amazing one sided one on one ‘fight’ she’d had with Fenox. As if I should have been worried about Luna. Hiskaria had heard the commotion and used the scale to levitate up so she’d she the last half of the fight. The upper floor didn’t have a roof, so she had been intending to shoot an arrow right into the other tiefling’s skull, but it ended up not being necessary.

See, there was a wall bisecting that room, with a door. He’d shut and locked the door to put it between him and Luna when things started looking bad. Luna had shown yet again just how little walls meant to the Butcher of Balestreet when she used the glaive she’d been holding holding for show as a means to pull herself up and over, then came down on Fenox with her axe. The Butcher one, Baphomet zero.

We met with her upstairs, where we found a shrine to Baphomet and a minotaur shaped object on the wall that was causing the room to be desecrated by its mere presence. There was also a treasure chest, so we decided that while the others went through the loot, I was going to take Radiance and have a bit of fun.

It took some time, that minotaur head was damned sturdy. But when it did break, Radiance’s voice echoed through the room. It wasn’t just me that heard it that time, but everyone. Their voice faded after only a moment. The others seemed a little shaken by that. I don’t really blame them. Radiance is…a lot. They’ve gone back to just being in my head now, which is probably for the best. Them quieting down entirely would probably be better, but I’m not lucky enough to have a normal holy sword that doesn’t demand the blood of demons and cultists as we fight. Ah, well. At least we agree on who our enemies are.

The chest had holy symbols and the favored weapons of multiple faiths, pointing towards the cult’s penchant for infiltration. We decided we would return them to the clerics at Defender’s Heart. Looking back I kind of wish I’d asked if they’d be okay with me keeping one. My wooden holy symbol’s seen a lot of use, and isn’t exactly the sturdiest material. Silver to match Leto’s wouldn’t have hurt. Ah, well. Hindsight and all that.

We were feeling really good after how well that went. We’d been planning on calling it a day after the tower, but since we’d used virtually none of our resources we agreed that unless we ran into particularly nasty trouble on the road we should try to clear out Topaz Solutions, report back to the Commander, and prepare to storm the Grey Garrison tomorrow.

Topaz Solutions was quite a bit farther than the tower had been from Defender’s Heart. Which meant more time for attacks from demons or other things lurking about.

First we were attack by two barbed creatures which made a terrible howling noise. Their barbs were painful when we got too close, but we cleared them out quickly enough with little trouble to speak of. No one ended up with any of the barbs stuck in them, which was a blessing. That could have proven difficult.

Then…we came to Balestreet. The demons had left the street as much a gory horror scene as one might have expected of Luna’s namesake. Here, two cultists of Baphomet tried to ambush us. Big mistake. Luna decided she was eager to make true to her nickname, and took her axe to them. They didn’t go down.

Then two arrows went straight through them, ice burst from one’s injuries, and both fell dead on the road. Hiskaria looked a bit sheepish, asking Luna if she shouldn’t have done that, since Balestreet was supposed to be Luna’s thing. Luna shrugged it off, saying it worked either way.

Remind me not to get on the bad side of the ladies in our group, they can cut quite the fearsome characters.

With that we were on our way, the rest of the walk to Topaz Solutions uneventful. The apothecary was being looted by a couple of thugs when we arrived. Luna decided to do her thing and scared them off with a few threats from the Butcher. Then we started looking around. The looters had taken anything of value, but Luna after some poking around found some ‘really nice door technology’, and opened a secret passage that led into a hidden basement. Luna and Melody snuck down first.

After a minute of waiting, Hiskaria and I heard Luna and Melody call us down, saying there was a strange mechanical doll and an image on the wall they couldn’t identify. I went down first. As Melody stepped forward to let me in, the minotaur head on the wall began to speak. It taunted us, saying it hoped we were Iomedaens so that this surprise from Baphomet wouldn’t go to waste. Then the doll began moving, and smashed a bottle, releasing a small plant creature.

There was also some kind of…gas I think? Something was in the chamber after that which was causing us various issues. Melody and I both started finding it hard to breath for instance—not so much that we were suffocating, but enough that we were wheezing and likely would have been unable to easily move stealthily.

Worse was that plant. It was in a thick patch of vines that it could move through with ease but which we struggles in. It screamed in such a way that it caused both Melody and Hiskaria to become nauseous, forcing them to flee upstairs to safety and leaving me and Luna to deal with it by ourselves. And it was small and tricky, dodging around many of our attacks in the most frustrating manner. Luna did finally squash the blasted thing, and I went over to the minotaur head and broke whatever the device was that was releasing gas into the room.

Then we searched the room and found a chest with a mocking note claiming we deserved a reward for besting the trap. Within were a number of stolen holy symbols. Luna stopped us from taking them, noting that they were covered in a contact poison.

I have decided I rather dislike this Igon Topaz, and do hope he survived the attack on the city. If only so that I may someday bring judgement upon him myself.

With all three safehouses cleared out, we’ve returned to Defender’s Heart for the night. We reported back to the Commander, and we spent some time unwinding and preparing for tomorrow. There are some merchants set up so we were able to get some supplies. And, more importantly, we got some drinks.

And even more importantly, Leto’s back.

He showed up while we were making preparations, all smiles and charm as always. He thought I’d died in a pit, I thought he’d been killed by demons, same old same old.

He looked amazing. He’s been doing well for himself. He really was the picture of a paladin in that silver armor riding up on a holy steed. Although I guess to him I must have looked maybe a little impressive with the holy sword Radiance at my side. Ah, if only he could have a conversation with them, he’d quit being impressed real quick.

Leto played up his knight in shining armor role well, flirted with Hiskaria even though she’s twice his age and a convicted murderer, and got on well with Melody. He…did not get on well with Luna. He tried, certainly, at first, but then she threw some misplaced insults about him being Raven Corps which I corrected, and then she brought up how all the reports of her being a murderer are vastly exaggerated by the Raven Corps and…it was just all around awkward, I think.

So then he introduced us to his horse, Charles, instead. He got a kick out of the fact he’d given his holy mount such a mundane name instead of something more heroic like—

Hold up. Charles.

Charlie.

Chalie Horse.

…that blasted tiefling, I’m going to wring his neck next time I see him.

I can’t decide if I’m mad about the pun, mad I didn’t catch it when we were talking about it, or mad that I didn’t think of it first.

Named his holy steed a pun, the nerve of that man...I wonder if anyone else has caught on. Commander of the Silver Legion, Leto Jules, the tiefling so charismatic he managed to sway 50,000 people to his banner…named his holy steed Charlie Horse. Inheritor help me I don’t know what to do with him.

Or how to outdo that.

Which is frustrating.

Oh well. What’re you going to do? Some days you find out your brother is not just still alive but now leading a legion on the back of a horse named Charlie and you just roll with it.

I’m glad he’s okay.

His Silver Legion is going to be joining the fight against the main forces tomorrow while our strike force goes into the Grey Garrison. So that’s more for me to worry about. But Leto’s always been a lucky bastard unlike me. He’ll be fine.

After the fact Melody, Hiskaria, and Luna decided it was really important to whisper amongst themselves and to send me away. So apparently it’s rumor time again. Yay. I’m fairly certain with them it would be nothing bad…but I can’t fathom what they could have possibly been whispering about. I suppose if they think Leto and I are related by blood it could have been about that, if they think I share his demonic bloodline…but Hiskaria is a tiefling as well, I see little reason why they would need to be secretive about it if that were the case. And quite frankly Leto and I don’t look alike. At all. Even if he weren’t golden, we don’t share even close to the same features. So I don’t think we could be mistaken for blood relatives.

I don’t know, and there’s really no use in speculating. It’s growing late, and we have a temple to siege in the morning.

[baseballbitch116]

Stay At Camp(1.2)

Your Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon Interactive Love Story

Introduction: Follow along on your journey with Daryl and the others throughout the series... You choose your actions... Will you end up with Daryl? YOU have the power to decide that!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Setting: Atlanta camp - before Rick has joined (S1E2-3)

Word Count: 3263

Series Warnings: Gore, violence, strong language, potentially triggering content, sexual themes, death, mentions of drug/alcohol consumption and abuse...

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gore, death, strong language, angst,

A/N: I’d just like to note that I used a lot of true dialogue from the show, which does not belong to me; however, Y/N and the rest of the writing does.

Masterlist

Send Me A Request! | Series Masterlist

“What’s going on?” You ask Glenn as he passes you. “Going on a run. Wanna come?” He asks, stopping and turning to look at you.

You had never gone with them on a run before, what exactly do you do? Would you just get in the way? But then again, you’ve been wanting to find a way to pull your weight… What should you do?

~~~

“Uhh, nah... I’ll stay back.” You respond with uncertainty. You feel slightly guilty, but you just don’t think that you’re ready to go out there just yet. Glenn nods and shoots you a reassuring smile before turning and heading toward the others. With a sigh, you head the opposite way to help out with some cleaning.

Your mind is preoccupied for most of the remainder of the day, wandering between your insecurities or fears, sometimes to different terrible scenarios that could be taking place on that run. Trying to keep yourself busy was the only was that you managed to stay sane - so that was what you did. You helped Amy clean and gut the fish her and her sister caught earlier in the day, tidied up the RV, helped Shane gather firewood, asked Carol to try to teach you how to sew, and even assisted the kids with homework - seeing as you were recently graduated from college with a degree in education.

The day drug by slowly, but eventually the sun set and everyone gathered around the fire Shane set up in to eat. It was a simple meal of canned beans and canned soup, each of you getting small portions in order to feed everyone. You sat beside Amy as you spooned at your food, listening to Dale explain his reasoning behind adjusting his watch every morning. You lent against the log that the others sat on, not overly concerned with dirtying your shorts, as you and the women wash clothes every morning.

This certainly wasn’t a meal that you would have eaten a few weeks ago - not only did beans and soup not go together, but you really steered clear of the weird mushy food. You wished you had a nice cheeseburger or bowl of Fettuccine right now - but that was a luxury that no longer existed. It was not easy to cook meals in a pot over a fire, with minimal ingredients and two dozen people to feed.

You chuckle as Dale finishes his story, taking one more spoonful of the beans into your mouth as you listen to the others speak. Your eyes wandered to Carol and her family gathered around their own smaller fire off to the side - grimacing at the sight. You liked Carol and Sophia a lot - but Ed was another story. The man wanted nothing to do with the rest of the group, contributed less than nothing, and was very obviously abusive toward his wife. You also took notice of the fact that once again, Daryl was not here.

Typically, Daryl would bring back whatever he killed, cook it up and take his plate off to his tent to eat alone. You had not seen him eat alongside the rest of the group before, it made you curious. Why did he insist on being alone? Today, he was still out hunting, having only returned for an hour or so earlier before heading back into the woods. You couldn’t help but worry - he was alone in the woods in the night. Still, it wasn’t your place to worry. The man had probably spoken a total of two words to you since meeting him - if that - you were by no means friends.

You are drawn out of your thoughts when you spot Shane standing up, approaching Ed and Carol over at their fire. Some of the group watch as the others try to mind their business as Shane asks Ed to keep the fire low, so they can’t be seen from far away. You clench your spoon as you see the man tell Carol to remove the log that he just tossed into the fire - watching as Shane stomps it out and thanks Carol, bidding her and Sophia a good night. You liked Shane - he was a pretty good guy to lead this group.

-

The next day goes by relatively the same as the one before, with the exception that the others never returned from the run. Typically, they would be gone from morning until close to sun down, which worried everyone immensely. Amy was panicking and demanding that they go out to try to find her sister, but Shane refused. You could see both sides, feeling bad for Amy but understanding Shane’s reasoning. You tried to reassure her that they were probably fine, but the younger girl wouldn’t hear any of it.

Not long before sundown, you heard the sound of an alarm blaring through the hills. Shane jumped up from where he sat cleaning his shotgun, Lori pausing in trimming Carl’s hair as she followed after him. You tried to spot where the sound was coming from, but you could not see anything. “Talk to me Dale!” Shane shouts at the older man on watch atop the RV. He is looking out with binoculars, trying to pin point what was approaching. “Can’t tell yet.”

“Is it them? Are they back?” Amy asks anxiously. You place a hand on her back to try to comfort her, your heart pounding as you anticipate what is coming.

“I’ll be damned.” Dale mutters.

“What is it?” She demands.

“Stolen car is my guess.” He replies, dropping the binoculars as the red car comes into view.

Everyone gathered around camp when the car pulled up. Shane was furious that Glenn pulled up to camp in a red sports car, laughing excitedly as its alarm shrilled.

“Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!” Dale shouts at Glenn as he grins.

“I don’t know how!” He hollers with his arms open. Shane taps the hood impatiently, asking him to pop the hood as Amy bombards Glenn with questions over the loudness of the car.

“Pop the damn hood please!”

“Is she alright?! Is she okay? Where is she?!”

“Yes! They’re all okay! Well... Merle not so much.”

“Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here - you trynna draw every walker for miles?!” Shane exclaims, leaning on the open hood after he shuts the alarm off.

“I think we’re okay.” Dale mutters. You run a hand through your greasy hair as you wrap your head around everything. Everyone’s okay except Merle? Why was Glenn driving this in the first place?

“You call being stupid okay?” Shane asks, shooting a look over his shoulder at Dale.

“That alarm was echoing all over these hills - hard to pin point the source. Shane stands and places his hands on his hips, giving Dale a look. You can’t help but admire how he looks for a moment - his blue button down shirt with the top buttons undone, exposing his chest. His cargo pants were snug on his long legs and his black hair was disheveled from running his large hands through it so frequently. If it weren’t for Lori...

“I’m not arguing, I’m just saying.” Dale remarks. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to think things through a little more carefully.” He points a finger at Glenn, the smile long gone from his face. You shake your head and shift your weight as a white truck pulls up behind the other car. You feel your heart swell in happiness for your friend when Andrea steps out, running for her sister with teary eyes. You watch as Morales and everyone else reunite with their loved ones, both you and Shane exchanging a look as Lori comforts a saddened Carl.

When a new man steps out of the car, dressed in a cop outfit, you are confused when you see Shane’s face fall. He looks like he’s seen a ghost - does he know this man? “Dad!” Carl screams, running into the arms of the unknown man. You watch in awe as Carl and Lori reunite with who must be his father... You and all the other smile at the scene, a single tear strolling down your cheek as you rejoice for them.

Until it hits you.

You look at Shane, his face rising and falling, his expression changing every second. He’s been sleeping with Lori... From what you knew, her husband was shot and died in the hospital right as this all happened... Was this really that man? You had so many questions but instead went over to give Andrea a hug, happy to see your friend has returned safely.

After the others settled in, the fire was once again set up and everyone feasted, listening to stories and the man - Rick - explained what happened when he woke from the coma he was in. You kept glancing back at Shane, wondering whether he was happy his friend was alive or not. He explained that he thought he died, that he didn’t hear a heartbeat and was attached to machines, which sounded like enough reason to believe he had passed to you. Still, you noticed how he looked at Lori throughout the night and you knew that there was going to be tension after tonight.

Once again, Daryl had only appeared once in the morning, asking about the whereabouts of his brother and eating before heading back into the woods. You had met his eye when he strode off, ducking your head from the intensity of his stare.

The next morning, you awoke shortly after sunrise in order to get a head-start on the day. You were going down to the quarry to wash clothes with the women while Shane and Carl tried catching frogs. You dressed into denim capris that hugged your legs and a black tank top, your hair pulled up into a pony tail as you spooned leftovers from last night into your mouth alongside Amy and Andrea. You are sitting beside them on the RV stairs when you spot Daryl approaching the camp from the woods, a string of something swung over his shoulder as he heads your way.

Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you exchange a knowing look with the sisters - Merle was left behind. Daryl stops a few feet away from the RV, hollering for his brother as he sets down his crossbow. “Merle!” He hollers again, making you cringe as you note a string of squirrels thrown over his shoulder. You meet his eye for a moment when he glances over his shoulder toward the RV. “Get yer ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” He shuffles the weight of the dead animals over his shoulder. You grimace at the sight - knowing that it was a good thing and you should be thankful, but it was gross and sad. “Let’s stew em up!”

“Daryl?” Shane calls out, stopping Daryl in his tracks. Everyone is gathered around by this point and you exchange a worried look with the girls when you spot T-Dog heading over with an armful of firewood. “Why don’t you slow up a bit? I gotta talk to you.”

“About wha?” Daryl asks, his southern accent prominent. You try not to seem too nosey but at this point a lot of the group was gathered around, anticipating his bad reaction. You set the bowl of food aside and stand, crossing your arms and leaning against the vehicle beside your friends. “This isn’t gonna be good.” Amy mutters to the two of you, keeping her voice low. Shane makes his way over to Daryl, Rick following behind.

“About Merle... There was a uh... There was a problem in Atlanta.” You watch anxiously as Daryl takes in the information, looking around the camp at the people gathered, chewing on his thumb.

“He dead?” He asks, glancing up at Shane sideways.

“I’m not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl shouts, approaching Shane. Your body is tense now and you worry that he is going to do something stupid.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Rick steps up, approaching Daryl. He glares at him angrily. You notice how Rick looks a lot different in his large white shirt and jeans than he did yesterday in his uniform.

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes...” Daryl sneers, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. You feel the tension growing in the air. “You got somethin you wanna tell me?” He growls.

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked onto a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

Daryl begins stalking back and forth, glaring between Shane and Rick, clearly bewildered. If you were in his shoes you would be too - it sounds pretty bad. “Hold on,” He starts, wiping his face and gesturing to his head. You notice that Daryl speaks with his hands quite a lot, mentally adding it to the things that you know about him. “Lemme process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof?! And you left him there!�� He hollers at Rick, his tone raising with each word, making you jump at his loudness.

Before anyone can react, Daryl tosses the squirrels at Rick - who dodges them - and goes to lunge at him. Shane is quick to roughly shove him to the ground - making you cringe when he hits the ground on his back. You want to intervene but it’s not your place - and what would you do to stop the older, larger man?

Daryl whips out his large dagger, making you and Amy gasp when he swipes at Rick. Between Shane and Rick, they work together to disarm and get Daryl to the ground, Shane holding him in a choke-hold as Rick tries to reason with him. “You best let me go!” Daryl shouts, his face turning red as he struggles against Shane.

After a moment, Shane releases Daryl. He shuffles to his feet and resumes stalking and glaring at the men. “The hell with all y’all!” Daryl shouts, waving his arm in no real direction. You spot the tears he roughly wipes away and your heart drops for him. If that were your brother abandoned on a roof you would be pretty furious too. You can’t imagine how he must be feeling.

“Just tell me where he is.. So I can go get him.” Daryl grumbles.

“He’ll show you. Isn’t that right?” Lori speaks up, looking over at her husband. When he nods, she stomps past you into the RV and you exchange a confused look with Amy.

You, Andrea, Amy Jacqui and Carol decided to head down to start on the laundry after the scene. Ed tags along, irritating you, but you bite your tongue. Eventually Shane follows with Carl and you watch them mess around in the water, trying to catch frogs. The sight warms your heart - until Lori shows up and tells Carl to leave. You try not to watch too much, but everyone can hear and see her hollering at Shane, telling him to stay away from Carl.

You feel that is a little harsh, given all that Shane has done for her and that he says he thought Rick was dead. You keep your opinions to yourself as you scrub clothes in the water, droning out Carol as she talks. The girls start listing things that they miss and you all laugh when Andrea brings up her vibrator, Carol agreeing with her. The moment is cut short when Ed interrupts, saying that you guys are laughing too much.

You and Andrea turn and shoot him a look as he looms over you guys, lighting a cigarette. This man had nothing better to do than to supervise? You watch as Andrea stands up, approaching him and you dread the worst. You will not hesitate to stand up for her if he acts out of line - unfair to butt in in this situation.

“Ed, tell you what. You don’t like how your laundry’s done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself.” She suggests with a calm tone. You slowly stand from where you sat and turn to face them, ready for him to pull a dick move. “Here,” She suddenly tosses a wet pair of pants at Ed’s chest, which he immediately tosses back into her face, making her gasp. “Ain’t my job missy.” He drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. The situation very quickly escalates as Amy tries to get her sister to back down but you take her side.

“No, what exactly is your job Ed? You think you can stand around and watch us all day? Got news for ya - we sure as hell aren’t your bitches.” You growl, daring the man to try you. You’ve had it up to here with this asshole, you’re dying for an excuse to fuck him up or go down trying.

He demands Carol follow him when he pussies out of the confrontation and ends up slapping her - sending all of you over the edge. Everyone is screaming as you and Andrea quickly start pounding on Ed’s chest, you digging your nails into his arms as you try to pull him off of Carol. You manage to get a punch in before he is literally drug off by Shane. You hold your throbbing fist as you watch Shane begin pummeling Ed, climbing on top of him and relentlessly beating him.

You almost want to cheer as he does so, grimacing as Carol cries and begs Shane to stop. Eventually he takes it too far and you all start hollering for him to stop. Carol runs over to the asshole’s side and sobs over him, making you sick as she apologizes to him. You and Shane meet eyes for a moment, your gaze landing on his bloody fists. “Shane-” You start, but he shrugs and shifts his weight, walking backward from the scene.

-

While some of the men got ready to go back to Atlanta to get Merle, you iced your throbbing hand on the steps of the RV. “You okay?” Glenn asks, shooting you a worried look. You nod and give him a halfhearted smile.

“I wish I could’ve beat his ass like Shane did.” You remark, shifting your weight slightly. Glenn lets out a chuckle and removes his cap, brushing his hair away.

“He deserved it.”

“Damn right he did.” You respond, wincing as you readjust the ice. You look up to spot Daryl getting ready a few yards away. He glances up, squinting at you in the bright sun as you sit there. Word quickly got around camp about what happened and it didn’t take a genius to figure out how you hurt yourself. You watch Daryl chew on his bottom lip, looking at you sideways before dropping his gaze back to his crossbow in hand.

“What’s that all about?” Glenn mutters. You glance up at him and cock a brow.

“Whaddya mean?”

“That. Daryl.” He clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. You drop your head as you feel your cheeks heat up, checking out your hand.

“Nothin. We don’t even talk.”

“You want to?” He asks, leaning his body against the RV, shooting a look back at the others that he is waiting for.

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem so bad.” You mumble, glancing up one more time when you see Daryl approaching the other men at the jeep, not looking at you this time. Glenn doesn’t respond, replacing his hat on his head and patting your shoulder. “Be careful.” You tell your friend, shooting him a weak smile that he returns as he walks off.

You watch as Glenn stands a few feet apart from Daryl, Shane giving Rick some bullets. “Let’s go! Wastin sunlight.” Daryl rushes them, making you chuckle slightly. You stand up and after one last look at your friends, you head back into the RV.

| NEXT CHAPTER |

~~~

And that’s the end of the second option! This next chapter will end with more choices that you will need to make to continue through the story. You are heading down a spiral of choices and consequences. A simple decision like choosing to stay at camp is going to set the foundation of this story and all of the choices you are going to need to make following it! If you read the first option, you would see just how different the story has become, and it will only go more into depth as you continue down more paths.

Please leave me some feedback in the comments!! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s reactions to this series!!! ♥

If you want to know when this series has been updated, feel free to turn on my notifications and ask to be added to my taglist! ♥

@crossbowking​ @glitteryathleterebeluniversity​ @elizaaishi​ @permanenthunger​ @lasswarrior​ @givethnofucketh​  @lokilover2000-blog​ @tv-show-shit​ @mtngirlforever​ @jodiereedus22​@cole-winchester @loudlydarkcollective​ @tehfabbooty​ @momc95​@fuzzy-panda @sourwolf-sterek32​ @mwesterfeld1985​ @badluckgirl​ @namelesslosers​ @my-current-fandom-is​ @zzeacat​ @twdeadfanfic​ @elamy17​ @fangirlsarah16​ @gryffindorshadowhunter​ @justaclosetedgay @a-little-piece-of-heaven-xox​@hello-valerie @huntress-valkyrie​ @pleasepleasepleaseme​ @fangirl-juchan​@dotslabyrinth @isayweallgetdrunk​ @vibhati123 @ask-kakashihatake@clumsy-writing-rdb @07chenzo03 @iminlokisarmysofi​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @franzixlovesxsomeone​ @of-storms-and-sadness​ @duchessdeer​ @mazerunnerrose​@gruffle1 @harry-titss​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @marissacooper​ @neeadinghugs​ @theserpentinequeen​ @firelonewolf​ @habelm @isilmiel @itsmysticalmystery​ @misscamptl​ @escapetothemind-dancefloor @dixonslover​ @walkingdeadfan25​ @qrangr​@mblaqgi @daryldixon83​ @negansviolentdelights​ @multiefandamn​ @fandom-trash99 @bvbwestfall​ @sugoichenzo​ @daryldixonswifey​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindy@esdlaliniadedurin @jasminetherandomweirdo​ @abilostinlight​ @thebeckyjolene​@too-many-fanfiction-fandoms @celticheart72-masterlist​ @whizzer1320​ @nohemi2500​ @nugget3455@axelwolf8109 @twd-imaginesss​ @hells-mistress​ @kaleeandspn @sekkitsu​ @fxckyourlife​ @topsykretts926-blog​ @lighthope08​ @runlikeclockwork​ @elysijin​ @mummy-woves-you​ @princess-of-idgaf​ @icantstopreblogging​​ @rhyatt-deauxtreve​​ @nikki082489​​ @twdeadfanfic​ @superdeadwalker @ringpopdust​ @twdsfix​ @dixonluvv​ @angelophany​ @imaginecrushes​ @the-wonderful-werewolf @chocolatealmondmillk @catlya​@firedancernix @princessxpunk​ @collecting-stories​ @ly–canthrope@maydayfigment​ @emilyabeth@classygladiatorcupcake​ @buckygal95​ @aj3684​ @nervous-bouquet-werewolfs-posts @hudsonbird​ @expectroyalpurple​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @d-e-e-e​ @dylan-o-yumm​ @dead-walking10​ @glitteryathleterebeluniversity @neilox​ @lauravic@d-e-e-e​ @cultliter​ @ravenmoore14​ @rxsenkrxnz-imagines @eviction-notice-no666​ @zeppelinwhore​ @i-ran-out-of-fanfics​ @spidergirla5​ @vgs-sunflower​ @captainskyline​  @nehemiay​ @impossiblewagonweaselcookie​ @felicisimor​ @alexisisdumb​ @iamburdened​

[poetic-emptiness-fanfic]

8th of May (Echoes of the Past 9: First loves)

Characters: Hande Kuura, Salma Kuura, Sargon Hakimi, Helena Kuura (mentioned), Sardar Gul (mentioned), Afsoun Gul (mentioned), Armas Vuorimaa (mentioned), Paavo Kuura (mentioned), Hugo Kuura (mentioned) & Taika Kuura (mentioned)

Content warnings: some profanities, mention of blood & death

Words: ~3 300

@arcana-echoes

[Extracts from Hande's diary – she writes alternately in Karnassian and Hongas; also letters]

17th April 828, Vesuvia

I think I'm going slightly mad... Today amme Afsoun summoned me to the shop after the post was delivered: I received a letter. Since I've only been in Vesuvia for two weeks, I was sure it was from home – not many people know I'm currently here. I don't wish everyone to know each and every move I make, so I appreciate that even Salma has kept her mouth shut. And speaking of the Devil, the letter was from her. Amme didn't want any help with the shop, so I went upstairs immediately, back to ”my” reading haunt (I just love that turquoise armchair...) to read what the Monkey had to say this time. I include the letter below:

15th April 828, Karnassos

My dearest Gorilla,

I hope you’re enjoying your time with Amme in Vesuvia. I’m still a little nettled that I got this stupid flu and couldn’t go with you - I miss Vesuvia’s marketplace and Amme. Don’t worry, I’m still happy for you; you get to see the Flower Festival and learn some awesome magic. You must show me, when you get back home!

Luckily, I no longer have a fever, but my throat is still sore and I feel tired all the time. Baba cheers me up by drawing beautiful pictures of animals and flowers - I’ve hanged the drawings on my wall! Äiti is quite busy with her clothing commissions, but in the evenings she comes to play chess with me. Otherwise I’m reading and daydreaming and listening to that music box - thank you for sending it to me! It has brought me a lot of joy!

By the way, Sargon visited here yesterday. He wanted to see you and was quite disappointed when he heard that you are visiting Amme. I bet my bottom daric he has a crush on you… ;) And don’t claim anything else, I’ve seen earlier, how he looks at you! You’d be a daft for not noticing that! He’ll be one lucky guy if you two started to date. Yeah, yeah, he’s handsome and kind and all… but we both know, which one of you is the awesome one! ;)

I’m not going to tease you anymore, I just want you to be happy, that’s all! But for now, make the most of your trip in Vesuvia! And please, write me as soon as you can.

Your oh, so darling sister,

Salma the Monkey

Yeah, she still mixes Karnassian and Hongas in one letter, but well, I find it fun – at least it'd be quite difficult for an outsider to read it. Good luck with two different alphabets, hah! But holy shit, I still can't believe that last part: Sargon has visited our home to see ME? And he was DISAPPOINTED, because I wasn't there??? Is Salma messing with me? But why would she – she may be even more mischevious than me, but she isn't mean. Oh, now I regret I told her I had fallen for a CHILDHOOD FRIEND... I'm so stupid... But what if Salma's right? What if Sargon has a crush on me? No, it can't be it... He's handsome, kind and rich... He's practically the most wanted boy of our age – many parents even try to arrange their children to get engaged with him. He's only 15, turns 16 in a couple of months... Argh, Salma, why did you make me confused?!

To be entirely honest, I still miss her. I've said it before, but I really am also nettled that she wasn't able to come with me – the carriage trip would've not been so boring if she was there keeping me company. Well, at least I got my books... Oh, speaking of books, I hope my package is delivered in time! Tomorrow is baba's birthday and I found a perfect book for him. I still hope he likes it – it's a little sad to be away during his big day, but oh well... Luckily he turns 41, so it's not anything too special... Ugh, I just can't stop thinking about Sargon, damn him! And damn me, now I hope I never get home, I'm going to be so screwed... Luckily I know a spell for invisibility so I can just avoid everyone if needed. Or I can escape to Hjalle, vaari¹ can keep me safe, heh.

Amme has already fallen asleep. I try to follow suit. Good night!

7th May 828, Karnassos

I'm really going mad! I must be imagining everything and I'll find out that I really am in a mental asylum... So much has happened after I returned back home. Äiti, baba and Salma surprised me on my birthday and brought me breakfast to bed. I also didn't have to attend agha Akhtar's lessons, he even made me a birthday card! I was really surprised he took the time – usually he just brings some sweets (and even that's so kind from him!). But that wasn't all: in the afternoon that day, Sargon came to say hi and he gave me a present! I didn't know he even remembers my birthday – he's a little absent-minded when it comes to birthdays or other important dates. He gave me a drawing set with pencils and a sketchbook with fine paper – it really felt too much... Of course the Monkey teased me THE WHOLE DAY after that so I might have hexed her... Nothing serious! She just couldn't remember where she did put her things for the rest of the day.

Yesterday wasn't any special, but today Sargon visited AGAIN. I'm a little mad at baba that he let him in... I just... Now I feel like äiti and baba also have figured out something and they have this conspiracy with Salma to try to play matchmakers for me... It feels so awkward... And now I really suspect it's just some kind of a sick joke and Sargon is plotting with them... Sargon asked me especially to go out with him – usually we go with Salma together, since they're also friends. I didn't have the courage to say no so I went. It was fun, actually: we were wondering along the bazaar, feeding stray animals and later Sargon took my to their estate to see his horse. She is beautiful, her name is Zeka – the wind. Their stablemaster even let me to ride with her. It was nice, although I was a little nervous, since I haven't ridden that much.

Well, when the sun set, Sargon walked me home (or more like offered a carriage ride – it's so strange how rich his family is, having their own carriages). When we were in front of my doorstep, he even opened the door for me! And when I said him goodbye and was going to open the door, he KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK! And he just left, without saying anything more!!! I just ran straight to my room and to my embarrassment I need to admit I screamed on one of my pillows so Salma or my parents woldn't hear me. I just can't believe it really happened... I love his smile and the way he fiddles his fingers when he's concentrated and... He can't feel the same for me, he just can't! I'm not that special (I can do magic, but that's about it)... Everyone says how Salma is the beautiful one, although she'll just turn 13 in a few days... I'm just a weirdo who happened to inherit the ”exotic” look from my äiti...

I don't think I'll get much sleep next night. Maybe I try to read or probably brew some calming potion, if I can concentrate enough... My life is a mess...

8th May 828, Karnassos

I can't believe it. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! Me and Sargon... We are a couple now!!! I feel like I'm in a wonderful dream and at any moment I might wake up. Today, when I was at the marketplace to buy new yarns and check if our bookseller had any new additions to their collection, I met Sargon again. My hands started sweating immediately and his face just lit up and he smiled so widely after he noticed me. I thought I must overreact and that's just how a friend would react... Well, he asked me to come to their place, he was trying to find a way to catch the cool air and push the warm air out and it could be used at homes. It was really fascinating, seeing his drawings and miniatures – he understands the physics way better than I do, but I could help him with chemistry. I'm sure he's going to be an engineer when he grows up!

But yeah, he always kept touching me a little: holding my hand, putting his hand on my back, even stroking my cheek. I thought I would explode! But still, I kept on thinking that I'm just imagining and overanalyzing and that was nothing... We talked and laughed and well, I even met the mayor (he's Sargon's uncle). I was so nervous, I've never met him like this before, only Sargon's parents. He told me he had heard about me and my sister, because Sargon has talked about us a lot during these years. The mayor of Karnassos KNEW ABOUT MY EXISTENCE??? Holy shit... But back to the matter at hand (I just can't help my mind, it keeps racing...): I spent the whole day at Hakimis, I even ate dinner with them.

Then Sargon again suggested that he'd escort me on my way home. Unlike usual, our carriage trip was spent in silence. It made me a little uneasy – I feared that I had disappointed Sargon somehow and that he was mad at me... Later, about halfway through the trip he suddenly took my hand in his. Then he just said my name and then he KISSED ME. Not on the cheek, but on the LIPS!!! I thought like I was struck by a lightning and luckily I was sitting, for I'm sure my legs would've given out if I was standing... After that we just kept staring each other, until I finally mustered my courage and whispered the words I had wanted to say for a long time: ”I love you.” He answered that he loves me too... The rest of the trip he came to sit next to me and we just hugged each other. I wished that the trip would never end, but eventually it did... Sargon opened the door for me again, but before I could get home, he kissed my hand. I also felt his stare in my back, until I turned around and waved him goodbye. But well, when I finally had floated to my room, I looked out the window and he was still there! He wanted to see I got there safely – what a moron, I was at my home already. xD But yes, I still found it cute.

He loves me. He really loves me...

22nd December 828, Karnassos

My dearest Ray of light,

Words can't describe, how much I miss you right now. Still, I'm happy you get the chance to spend some time with your family from your mother's side. I actually wish we'd also celebrate Midwinter Feast, it sounds so nice. Maybe I should ask mum if we could do that too next year...

Things here are the same: baba is always working and mama tries to entertain herself with dinner parties and theatre visits. I'm working on my studies and that ”ventilation system”. I hope I get it ready soon, it would be wonderful to try to test it! How's your short story doing? I really loved the previous one, it made me laugh so much! Do you let me read your next one when you get back home?

By the way, how's your family doing? I hope they are fine and your celebrations are going like planned. Is Salma still up to mischief? Well, I can imagine you'd be her partner of crime so Hjalleans and Forestian should keep their guard up! And let's pretend I'm not interested in your antics, but please, if you make any good jokes during your stay there, you must tell me when you get back!

I'm sorry that I'm not that good at words... You're so talented with them that I get nervous when I need to answer your letters. I can't do them justice and it makes me a little sad. I still keep trying for you, I really want to make you happy by writing back to you. You have made me so happy during these months and I really miss your voice and laughter and clever remarks.

Have a great Midwinter Feast! I send you lots of hugs and kisses! Remember, that I love you more than anything!

Forever yours,

Sargon

28th December 828, Hjalle

My lovely King²,

Thank you for your last letter! You don't need to worry about your writing – your letters always bring me great joy and I'll cherish them forever! I also miss you greatly, although I'm enjoying my time in Hjalle. It's been snowing for the last few days and the view when I look out of the window is spectacular! I made a drawing about it in my sketchbook – I hope I managed to capture the atmosphere...

My family is doing fine, thank you for asking! Baba and äiti enjoy the chance to relax, and vaari as well as Paavo-eno entertain me and Salma with playing funny games and of course we've played with our cousins, too. Erkki is 12 and Marjatta is 11, but they still are fun to be with and it's also nice to see our other uncles and aunt and their children. It's a little crowded here since the whole family is here, but in a good way.

Well, my short story is still a work in progress, but I guess I can show you some parts of it when we get back to Karnassos. And hah, I won't admit anything about making mischief! How could you even think of that of us, we are just little angles (heh)? I'm also very happy for you, I'm sure you'll get your invention ready soon!

I'm sorry about your baba. It must get lonely for you and your mama if he's not home very often... I wish I could do something to help for your situation... What if I make a potion for him that makes him stay at home and you slip it into his drink or something? Well, I don't think that's really very ethical thing to do... Maybe your mama should try to talk with him? And you, as well. I know it can be hard, but maybe he'll take more time for you if he learns that both of you feel lonely...

Although I've enjoyed my time in Hjalle, I really miss you, too. To be honest, I still get a little confused sometimes, about the fact that you're really with me. It's just like from a fairytale! Well, without the wicked witch part (there are just a few magicians, and they're harmless). But yeah, I really miss your cute eyes, babbling about your inventions and our trips together... Just remember, that we come back in two weeks, so it isn't that long time anymore (although for me, it feels like eternity).

I need to stop now, Taika asked me to join the dinner. Take care, lots of hugs and kisses! I love you very much!

Forever yours,

Hande

20th June 829, Karnassos

My love,

I hope the courier delivers this to you soon. I want to warn you: stay away from the Count of Vesuvia. He's dangerous. I won't say anymore until we meet face to face, but you will hear soon, that my uncle has died. That bastard killed him, because my uncle dared to complain that he stole our city's food storages. He's going to claim that my uncle was a demon, and that's why he killed him, but I don't believe it! Well, I guess you'd have known if he was a demon for real, since you're a magician...

But please, my mama is hysterical and baba is worried as well. They fear that the Count's army is going to occupy Karnassos because of this. We don't know how the Shah reacts to this... If the Count or his soldiers are in your neighbourhood, don't go near them. I don't want to lose you, too... We're staying at home just in case, so the Count can't think we're planning an uprising...

Please, stay safe, all of you! I love you!

Forever yours,

Sargon

27th June 829, Karnassos

Salma is dead... My little sister is dead... I don't want to talk about it...

15th November 829, Karnassos

It's over. My and Sargon's story I mean. I can't believe how he can be so cruel and heartless!!! I met him today at the park. He wanted to make out, but I didn't feel like it and he started to sulk like a little brat... How can I just ignore that we were meeting at the place where me and Salma used to play together for all these years? I didn't sleep well last night, I saw nightmares again... I must've screamed, because baba came into my room and woke me up. He stayed with me until I fell asleep... But yeah, I wanted to talk about my nightmares with Sargon, but he wouldn't listen. He just told me to think of something else. Something else??? He didn't see my sister crushed under the hooves of those BEASTS and he didn't have my sister's blood on his hands AGAIN!!! IT HAUNTS ME EVERY DAY AND I GET SICK!!!

I tried to ignore it and then suggested if we walk a little. I held his hand which seemed to make him a little happier. We just walked and neither of us talked for a long time, but then Sargon opened his stupid mouth, ”Look, Hande... My love... It's been four months since Salma died. You can't be sad all the time, it's giving me the creeps. Could you give me even  a little smile?” I was shocked. How dared he?! MY SISTER HAS DIED, IT WAS THAT DICKHEAD'S FAULT, ÄITI AND BABA ARE CRYING ALL THE TIME AND I HAVE NIGHTMARES AND GET ANXIETY ATTACKS EVERY FUCKING DAY, AND I SHOULD SMILE A LITTLE BECAUSE HE'S GETTING THE CREEPS??? I yanked my hand away and just stared at him. Then something snapped in my head and I started to shout at him, everything I've been keeping in my chest for all these months. I also called him a spoiled brat who doesn't know anything about real life. I don't regret saying that, he was asking for it...

Sargon got alarmed and tried to calm me down, but I didn't want him to touch me. I told him I was not his plaything and that since he couldn't even respect my grief, he didn't earn my smile. I dumped him and told him to stay away from me or I would curse him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he looked at my face and left with tail between his legs. I just ran home and started crying when I finally got here... Shit, I'm still crying... He betrayed me... I love Sargon and he betrayed me too... I thought that he would stay by my side... Well, I guess he's just like those others, who just ditched me because I didn't play their clown anymore!!! Fucking traitors... At least Azita is still my friend... If she left me, I couldn't take it anymore...

I feel like shit... I hate myself, because I wasn't good enough for anyone... Not for Salma, not for my so-called ”friends” and now, not for Sargon... Love is just a trap to make you suffer! I was stupid to give my heart to that slimy snob... Well, like agha Akhtar, amme and Hugo have always said, I ALWAYS learn from my mistakes. I will NEVER give my heart to anyone again, mark my words!!!

TRANSLATIONS:

¹ grandpa in Hongas

² the name Sargon means ”king” in Karnassian, the inside joke between Hande and Sargon

My AO3

[reyescarlos]

sanctuary || a tarlos fic

chapter 2/3 read on ao3

It’s been one month since TK packed up his life and headed to Austin for a fresh start. In a new city, he struggles with between defeating old demons and reinventing himself. On a night when he feels close to falling through the cracks, he meets Officer Carlos Reyes, a man who could very well be his salvation.

Two days of casual texting since running into Carlos earlier in the week has led TK to trying out what Carlos promises to be the best meal he’ll ever have. It’s a pretty tall order but TK is more than willing to test out Carlos’ theory. After all, it means actual face to face time with the man he’s quite eager to know better.

Carlos steps up to the truck and begins talking with the staff in Spanish, conversing and placing their orders. TK’s understanding of the language goes as far as twelfth grade and even still, he barely remembers much aside from the basics. He’s only able to piece together a few bits here and there. Regardless, it doesn’t take much for him to see that Carlos is truly a regular at this truck and that the staff genuinely likes him. That doesn’t come as a surprise to TK. Carlos is kindhearted and people like that tend to draw in others like the sun.

As they wait for their order, TK takes in the area around him, the sights, the sounds, and of course the smells. His stomach is practically doing flips and growling the longer he stands around breathing in the delicious smells of meat and peppers and whatever else is being made inside each neighboring truck.

“Come here often?” he muses, using the cheesy pickup line to kick off conversation.

Carlos laughs and nods. “Yeah, it’s my absolute favorite in all of Travis County. It might actually be better than my tía Lucy’s. But if you ever tell her I said that, I will have no other choice but to lie and say I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

TK mimes zipping his lips, tossing away the imaginary key for good measure. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

Carlos is about to speak when one of the ladies inside the truck calls his name. He turns and heads back to the truck, thanking her and taking the food she hands over. TK spots an empty bench and hurries over to it, taking a seat, Carlos sitting right across from him a few seconds later.

“God, this smells amazing,” TK notes, unwrapping his burrito from its foil and taking a considerable bite. He stifles a moan but doesn’t shy away from tossing his head back. “Holy shit, that’s incredible.”

Carlos laughs at the theatrics. “Like I said, hands down the best in town.”

“I definitely have to come back here soon. Is tomorrow too sudden?” he jokes.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. Every now and then he looks over at Carlos and on some instances, he finds the other man glancing at him too.

“So, what is that you do?” Carlos asks conversationally after a time.

TK licks his lips, pulling in the lower one. It’s a harmless question, in general, but for TK it’s actually a loaded one. When making the move down to Austin, he also made the tough decision not to hop back into work. The time for himself is certainly needed but it makes him anxious thinking about having to explain why he isn’t currently part of the 126.

“I’m a firefighter. Or I was. I’m taking a bit of a break right now,” he finally settles on. It’s a half truth as he hasn’t fully explained but the last thing he wants is to unload all his drama on a man he’s only just met a few days ago.

Carlos considers his words and nods, dipping one of his chips into salsa. TK prepares himself for an onslaught of follow-up questions but they never come. Instead, Carlos gives a response he wasn’t expecting at all.

“I can understand that,” he says, popping the chip into his mouth and making quick work of finishing it off before he speaks again. “What we do isn’t easy. Sometimes you need to take time to recharge before heading back out there again. In order to really help others, we have to be at our best.”

TK can only stare at him. He was so sure Carlos was going to hound him with questions about what prompted the break but instead he opted not to pry at all. TK wasn’t used to that sort of thing. Most people would make it their personal mission to find out the details but not Carlos. Relief soon washes over TK.

“Yeah, definitely. I plan on getting back into the swing of things soon, though. Until then, I just live vicariously through my dad. He’s the new captain over at the 126. Whenever I’m ready, I’ll be working alongside him.”

A part of TK is chomping at the bit to get back to his old routine but he knows he still needs a bit more time to feel as if he’s standing on solid, stable ground again.

“Wait, seriously? My best friend is the EMS captain there.”

“Michelle Blake? No way, I’ve met her a few times. She seems pretty great.”

Carlos nods enthusiastically and laughs. “Damn, maybe you’re right and this town really is too small,” he muses, TK not missing the reference back to their conversation outside the boba shop.

“See? Six degrees of separation is too high of a count for this place.”

Carlos tosses a chip at him but TK is fast and swats it down to the table.

“Jerk. Is that any way to treat your new friend? You wouldn’t want to go giving me the wrong impression of your precious Austin, now would you?”

Carlos makes a face and it’s undoubtedly one of the cutest things TK has ever seen.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Oh, man,” TK laughs, “you have no idea.”

~*~*~

At lunch, TK finds himself incapable of looking away from his screen. He and Carlos have been chatting since morning with Carlos sending him updates and random pictures of odd things he sees while out shopping with his aunt Lucy. TK has seen everything from ridiculous items for sale at a thrift store to Carlos frowning in a chair with Lucy’s purse on his lap, reflected in the store’s mirror while his aunt is in the changing room. This most recent image is instantly followed with a text reading “SOS!”

TK grins at his phone, zooming in on Carlos’ face. The furrowed brows, the pleading brown eyes, the pout. It’s almost too much for him to handle.

“Earth to TK. Are you with me here, bud?” Owen says.

TK snaps his head upward, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone. “What’s that now?”

Owen shakes his head and laughs, lightly kicking at his leg. “My god, where is your head today?”

TK smiles bashfully and shakes his head. “Right here on my shoulders.”

“Could have fooled me. I could have sworn I saw it floating in the clouds. What’s going on with you?”

TK opens his mouth to speak but closes it back, shifting in his seat to turn to face his father. Try as he might, TK cannot erase the wide smile that breaks across his lips the second he looks at him, his thoughts already filling up so deeply with images of Carlos’ face. A part of him feels silly for being this caught up with someone he’s just befriended but he and Carlos have spoken every day for the last two weeks. Carlos is truly his first and last thought each day. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all in one breath just how much they’ve grown close to each other. It leaves TK’s head spinning.

“You met someone, didn’t you?” Owen says, his grin mirroring his son’s perfectly.

“Wow, you beat me to it.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t exactly a hard guess to make. Tell me all about him.”

TK draws in a deep breath to collect himself. “His name is Carlos and he is…kind of unreal,” he laughs. He can feel his cheeks warming up. “I don’t know. We talk all the time and it’s just…nice? Normal. It’s good to have a friend in this city.”

“A friend, hmm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Owen holds up his hands, letting out a playful laugh. “Nothing, nothing. Friends are great to have but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this worked up over one before.”

“Yeah, well, Carlos is a special friend. It’s different with him.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” his father says, lifting his brows.

“Seriously, it’s not like that. At least it can’t be right now.”

Owen’s smile fades from his face as he looks at his son and TK can feel a sinking sensation in his chest. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a less than platonic pull towards Carlos but the man knew nothing of his last relationship and the major impact it had on him. There were still so many secrets, ugly truths that TK hadn’t shared yet and was, truthfully, terrified to ever do so. Things with Carlos were light and carefree. For someone like TK who had been living so long with a darkness in him, he wanted to preserve this kind of joy for as long as possible. He thought perhaps it made him selfish to a certain degree but he couldn’t help it. For the first time in over a month, he felt weightless. A feeling like that was too rare and he was in no position to pass it up.

“Why do you say that?”

TK scoffs and shakes his head. “Come on, dad. We both know why we’re down here in the first place. Look at what happened the last time I fell hard for someone.”

“But look at how far you’ve come since then,” his father counters. “Look, you may have a real chance at something great here, whatever it may be. It’s been over a month now, TK. I think it’s time you start taking some wins. You’ve more than earned them. I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.”

TK swallows the lump in his throat, the guilt that rises like bile. His life and actions didn’t only have consequences he had to face. While he knew his father didn’t hold it against him, TK couldn’t help but to feel responsible for them upending their lives and moving away from home.

“I don’t want to wreck this. Carlos is a good guy. Genuinely good, you know? I don’t want to mess that up or put anything bad on him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Owen searches his face but TK can’t bear it and looks away, back to his plate.

“Tell me about him. How’d you two even meet?”

TK hesitates, fumbling with his fork and turning it over in his hand. He still hasn’t mentioned his panic attack out on the bridge that night. After all, he’d returned home in a better mood than when he left and had been fine in the weeks since so it didn’t seem like something worth mentioning or making his father concerned over. But now, being asked so plainly about how he met Carlos, it feels like something he needs to disclose. TK was skilled at hiding things but he made a vow to himself on the plane ride from JFK to Austin-Bergstrom Airport that he’d truly turn over a new leaf and maintain transparency with his father going forward.

He licks his lips and clears his throat before speaking, avoiding his father’s gaze until he finally speaks.

“When I went out running a few weeks back, I sort of…had a moment. My head was kinda all over the place and I needed a break.”

Owen shifts in his seat, his eyes glued on his son. It was such a bittersweet thing having a father that cared so much at times. On one hand, TK was comforted in knowing that his dad was always willing to listen but on the other, it made him dread his father hearing all the less than pleasant things he had to say from time to time.

“What do you mean?”

TK sets his fork down. “I don’t know. I was thinking a lot about Alex and it just got to feel like too much so I stopped out on the bridge to get myself together.”

“TK—”

“God, no! Not like that. Sorry.” TK sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “It just so happened that I stopped there. I swear, dad. Anyway, clearly it looked troubling because Carlos was on duty and he came up to me to make sure everything was alright. He got called away to an active B&E and I thought that was the last time I’d see him. But literally the next day, after group, we bumped into each other downtown and exchanged numbers.”

Owen settles back against his seat, his fingers splayed on the dining room table. TK watches the parade of emotions that flit across his father’s face from fear to uncertainty to controlled hurt.

“I should have told you more about that night,” TK admits. “I just didn’t want you to worry. I’m so tired of making you worry.”

Owen places a hand on TK’s shoulder and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Whether you tell me everything or not, I’m always going to worry. That just comes with the gig of being a dad. But what makes it easier is if we’re on the same page at all times.”

TK meets his father’s gaze and nods, worrying his bottom lip. Owen sighs softly and drops his hand, trading a concerned look for a warm smile.

“So, Carlos is a cop. What an interesting first responder pair you guys make,” he teases.

TK is glad for the joke as it alleviates some of the tension in his chest. He laughs and rolls his eyes.

“It’s crazy; what are the odds, right?”

Something warm glints in his father’s eyes and TK is almost moved to tears because of it. He can admit he’s been particularly hard on himself over the last month and a half, so convinced that he shouldn’t even allow himself to move on from Alex. He feared he wasn’t ready and that he couldn’t be trusted. But already, in such a short time, he was willing to give a part of himself to Carlos. He didn’t stand much of a chance, in truth. He couldn’t imagine a single person who wouldn’t be disarmed by the other man.

Owen searches his face for a moment as TK focuses back on their conversation.

“Looks like the tide’s starting to turn for you down here in Austin; things are really picking up. Maybe meeting Carlos is just the thing to make you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he parrots. I hope, he thinks.

~*~*~

The next day TK is in his room folding laundry when his phone lights up on his bed. TK cranes his neck to read the text from Carlos.

Hey, you busy tonight?

TK puts down the shirt in his hand and grabs his phone to reply, seeing that Carlos is already typing out another message to him. He waits for it to come in.

If you are, feel free to ignore me. I know it’s kind of short notice to be making plans.

TK can only roll his eyes to this. How many times and how many ways does he have to show Carlos he has nothing else going on in the Austin? And even if he did, Carlos would always be the better option; any plans he may have had could easily be tossed to the backburner.

Ah, yes, let me check my oh so busy schedule. Please hold.

A few seconds later he sends:

Hmm, sitting around the house doing nothing. Online shopping. Scrolling through social media right before bed...yeah, sorry. Booked solid for the evening, I’m afraid

He takes a moment to appreciate his own humor before his phone is vibrating with an incoming call from Carlos.

“How may I help you?” he greets.

“Do you make it your mission every day to be a pain in the neck?” Carlos’ voice is so light and teasing it makes TK’s heart clench in his chest. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way they complement each other so perfectly.

“We all have special skills in life. One of mine just happens to be pushing your buttons, what can I say?”

Carlos groans and sighs. “What have I gotten myself into?” There’s no bite to it. If anything, TK can practically see the smile he knows is painted on Carlos’ lips right now.

“I told you there was no going back. So, what’s going on tonight?”

“Ah, right. I thought we could hang out and I could take you to one of my favorite bars downtown.”

TK’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of a bar. He hasn’t stepped foot in one in what feels like forever. He knows he isn’t obligated to drink and that Carlos probably wouldn’t even notice or care if he didn’t indulge. It’s just been easier to eliminate the temptation by steering clear altogether. But a Friday night out with Carlos isn’t something he can shy away from, especially not when Carlos sounds excited to share something special to him.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” he replies.

“Yeah? Great. I’ll text you the address and we could meet up around 9 or so. I hope you’re ready for some dancing.”

“Is this going to be a hoedown? A real, genuine Texan hoedown?”

Carlos’ laugh is strong and clear. TK feels like patting himself on the back for job well done. His favorite thing these last two weeks has been making that sound come about. It does something to his heart to know that Carlos is happy, mainly because of him.

“Yup. I’m looking forward to seeing your moves, New York.”

“I won’t disappoint. I can promise you that much.”

“I never had a doubt.”

TK opens his mouth to reply but can’t. His heart is racing and all he can picture is the two of them out on the dance floor, moving together. It’s an image that lays down roots in his mind and grows so large it’s all he can see.

“Damn, I have to get back to work but I’ll see you tonight, alright?” Carlos says, bringing TK back to the present moment. “I’ll send you the address in just a minute. See ya.”

The call ends before TK can even get a word out but he figures that’s for the best. Carlos has managed to stun him into silence, a feat not many people are capable of.

So maybe his budding friendship is proving to have more weight to it than he wants it to. All the telltale signs of a crush are there, regardless of if TK is ready for them to be or not. It’s not as if he had much of a choice, he reasons. Right from the start Carlos caught his eye and every day that they’ve spoken since has only served to strengthen that. The other man would make such offhanded remarks but TK had to wonder if Carlos was even aware or if it just came by so naturally that he truly didn’t notice. TK wasn’t sure which he preferred.

If Carlos wasn’t being intentional in his flirting, then they were truly just friends and he could be okay with that. Simply having someone to talk to so frequently that wasn’t related to him was a major win. But if there was some sort of hidden code behind his words, TK was almost nervous about uncovering it. In a life post-Alex, he hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of meeting someone he could actually see himself with. But maybe he was alone in thinking there was even something here. And that, TK knew above anything else, was the worst conclusion of all.

~*~*~

“I don’t know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” TK says as he and Carlos enter the bar.

“Maybe you’ve seen too many movies? It’s clouding your judgement.” Carlos bumps his shoulder lightly against TK’s arm.

“You might have a point there.”

It’s a lively night and the place is comfortably filled with people already out on the dance floor, moving along to the music being played by a live band in the corner. TK stays close to Carlos’ side even though the place isn’t that crowded and they aren’t likely to get separated. But Carlos doesn’t seem bothered by their proximity. He merely throws a warm smile over his shoulder at him as he leads them to the bar and TK does his best not to melt right there on the spot.

“What are you drinking?” Carlos asks, holding up his fingers to signal the bartender.

“I’m good with mineral water for now,” he replies casually, his eyes fixed on Carlos to see his reaction but the man simply nods and orders for them when the bartender comes over, opening a tab.

If there’s one thing TK has been learning about Carlos these last few weeks is that he doesn’t push in the way virtually everyone else he knows would have. TK appreciates that more than he’ll probably ever be able to express to Carlos.

He takes the glass Carlos hands him, slick with condensation and thanks him. TK is unable to pull his eyes away from Carlos’ mouth as it takes a sip from his beer bottle, his throat going a little dry. He soothes it with a swig of his mineral water and averts his gaze and instead focuses on something safer like the crowd of people dancing. The music becomes a bit more folky and the footwork a bit more intricate but TK is fairly confident he can follow along easily enough.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Carlos says, forcing TK to glance back at him.

“What? About me dancing? Pfft, I can hold my own out there.”

Carlos eyes him from top to bottom and back again. It’s such a simple move and yet it makes TK’s skin tingle to be held in his gaze. Not for the first time since meeting Carlos, he wonders what the man thinks when he looks at him. Smugly, he hopes Carlos feels the energy between them too. Surely, he does, TK reasons. There was nothing casual about that look just now.

“Alright, let’s see it then.” Carlos downs the rest of his beer and sets it down on the bar. TK follows suit, finishing off his drink in kind.

He isn’t expecting Carlos to reach for his hand but he gives it up willingly, feeling warmth course through him that has absolutely nothing to do with being surrounded by people. Carlos leads them right to the center of the dance floor, a large smile on his face. He doesn’t waste a single second in falling into line with everyone else. TK does his best, trying hard not to look at his feet. That’d be a dead giveaway that line dancing is kind of a foreign concept to him. He manages well enough after a few seconds.

“There you go,” Carlos encourages.

TK can’t take his eyes off him. There’s something just so alluring about watching Carlos move freely, completely at ease and assured in his movements.

They keep dancing for a while, TK relaxing into it and matching Carlos beat for beat. The music eventually changes to something slower, couples remaining on the dancefloor and settling in close to each other. TK looks around at everyone before glancing to Carlos who gives him a questioning look. TK gives a small smile, silent confirmation that he doesn’t mind having this dance with Carlos. He keeps his eyes on Carlos’ face, trying to decipher the expression in them. It’s like he can see it all in real time, Carlos making the decision to try for something a little more. The man brings his face closer but TK stiffens in his hold and takes a step back.

“I think I’m gonna get some air. Just a sec,” he says, pursing his lips and walking off.

He’s cursing himself for panicking and being a coward. The most frustrating thing is knowing that had he been in a different place mentally, he absolutely would have followed through on kissing Carlos. He’s spent a fair bit of time over the last two weeks picturing what that would feel like. Here it was now the opportunity was presenting itself and TK’s initial reaction was to run.

He stands outside of the bar, leaning against the building with his eyes closed, replaying the exchange over and over.

“Do you just want to get out of here?” he hears Carlos say. When he opens his eyes, Carlos is standing right in front of him, his face unreadable. “We could go for a drive, if that’s alright with you.”

TK pulls in a breath and nods. What he wants to do is apologize a million times and let Carlos know that none of this is his fault. Carlos is truly perfect, almost scarily so as far as TK is concerned. He can barely take the shift in Carlos’ mood. Not even five minutes ago the man was smiling brightly. Now he looked unsure and uneasy, all because of TK. If he could have even a minute to explain, TK would be grateful. A car ride with just the two of them was ideal.

Carlos nods too and leads the way over to his car, the two of them climbing inside. Neither of them says a word as Carlos brings the car to life and begins to drive. TK knows he should be the one to break the silence but his thoughts are a riot in his mind and nothing makes sense. Every time he starts to form a sentence in his head, the words don’t sound right. Carlos keeps driving, eventually coming up to an empty area.

He stops the car and looks over at TK. In his eyes is fear and concern, so much so that TK feels guilty, already able to see that Carlos blames himself for the awkwardness earlier. It’s so incorrect and misdirected but Carlos is already speaking before TK can even dispel the man’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Carlos’ chest rises and falls heavily. TK isn’t used to seeing him uneasy and it doesn’t sit well.

“God, Carlos, no. You didn’t—I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

TK sighs and tilts his head back against his seat. The silence in the car presses down on his ears but he needs a few seconds to get his thoughts in order.

“The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing completely applies here, as cliché as it is,” he starts out, turning his head to look at Carlos.

Carlos’ expression is so serious, like he’s truly giving his full attention over to TK, like he sincerely wants to understand what he’s thinking or how he can help. The level of kindness and sincerity Carlos has shown him since day one is unparalleled and given how his last relationship ended, TK is in awe of the fact that someone is willing to extend this generosity to him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. In time, I really do want to share it with you because I think you could be good for me. Knowing you has already been good for me and you don’t even realize it.”

TK swallows thickly before pressing on. Carlos remains perfectly still, searching his face. TK can’t help the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. This man owes him nothing and yet here he is, willing to hear him out.

“I was a bit of a mess back home. I was in a pretty serious relationship that sort of blew up in my face and I just…I couldn’t stay in the city anymore. My dad got offered the job down here and the timing…it seemed like the univere’s way of giving me something of a clean slate. I’m not where I want to be exactly but I’m working on it.”

He stops short then, his breathing shaky. This was more than he thought he’d share with Carlos this early on and while it feels scary to admit to such heavy things, it’s also freeing. Carlos may be new to his life but every instinct of TK’s is telling him that he can trust this man beside him.

Carlos finally moves, reaching out and holding onto TK’s hand. He doesn’t lace their fingers or anything, just simply holds on to it, as if reminding TK that there’s someone here with him. TK’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“Thank you for telling me,” Carlos says. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. We don’t…I’m just happy to be your friend, honest. We don’t have to make something of this. Seriously, just knowing you is enough.”

Despite his best efforts to stop them, TK can feel traitorous tears running down his cheeks but he can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed over it. Being around Carlos is like existing in a judgement free zone. With his free hand, he wipes at his face and Carlos gives him a soft smile. The sight alone is like a balm over TK’s hurt.

Carlos leans forward, resting his forehead against TK’s. It’s such a tender expression that TK’s breath hitches and his heart skips a beat.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says softly, confidently as if he has some crystal ball that can predict this.

Either way, TK gladly takes the assurance as a fact, clinging to that promise like a life raft in a heavy storm.

[fruitpunchninja101]

Slow Dancing In The Dark

Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi Ackerman

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Rating: T

Here’s part 1 of my gift for  LeviHan Eggscghange 2020 :) I hope my dear giftee enjoys this.Part 2 will be out in a couple of days!

You can also read this on AO3

 @levihanweek

Working for Sina Industries has always been a life long dream for Hange.As a wide eyed child,she would always watch live broadcasts of their space launches and tell herself one day shes gonna be there.Standing in mission control smiling as she watched one of her creations get sent to a different planet.Armed with a degree & a determined heart,she applied as an engineer.You could imagine her disappointment when she was crammed into an 8x12 cubicle in the basement to design and develop circuitry which their boss greedily takes credit for all the damned time.She's pretty good at keeping a front that shes a pretty chill with all her bosses bullshit but she finally lost it when he started harassing a temp.Hange bravely spoke out and got into a heated argument with her boss.She got supended for a week after that.

It took almost six months before she was promoted to another 8x12 cubicle.Only this time,shes moving up on the infamous 17th floor.The place where they flung all the adept yet problematic employees.Its pretty much the same,shitty boss,intricate work but now on a higher pay grade and a lot more hearsay about her reputation.Its not so bad though,despite the lack of recognition and grueling work hours she met a handful of wonderful coworkers who shared the same pain.

Mike and Nanaba were sort of the required stable couple of the group.She met them a month after the big promotion when she caught them making out in the copy room.She's probably standing there for an entire minute awkwardly making fake cough noises to alert them of her presence.Enter Erwin Smith,he casually strode up by the couple and grabbed the box of printer ink Hange desperately needed.He's like freaking Captian America & Superman combined except he has a mind of a slytherin.Not that it was a bad thing.

And then there's Levi,The crabbiest member of their little group,Mr.I-look-very-angry-and-irritated-all-the-time-but-inside-lies-a-total-softy.He’s a clean freak who befittingly,is a sanitary engineer.Rumors say that Levi had tendencies with violence and had to be sent at 17th floor for precaution.There used to be a time when they didn't get along.She'd been very welcoming towards him but hes always been aloof and cold.She didn't mind it at first,but after a while it kinda got into her nerves.Til that christmas party back in 2017,where she had a few drinks and sort of confessed that she liked him and it really bummed her out that he didn't feel the same way.For the first time,she saw something other than disinterest and irritation on his face...she saw confusion.He asked her what shes on about,then reminded her that he just made her chocolates for valentines day when she won't shut up about craving something sweet.He doesn't do that kind of shit just for anyone and after that,hange was pretty sure they've become best friends.

Their friendship was forged in companionship in misery but as time passed they became her second family.

One of the things that Hange looked forward to is hanging out with them every Friday night at a dive bar a few blocks away from their office where they get shit faced and let off some steam from their work.Hange was preoccupied with the jukebox when Mike arrived with his arm slung over Levi dragging the smaller man into her space.”You'll never guess what happened.”The man announced and before she could answer the man screamed."Someone got asked for a date!"

"Ohoho!Whos the lucky girl?"Nanaba came out of nowhere carrying two mai tais and handed one to Hange before heading over at Mike's side.

"Petra Ral."Erwin chimed cooly while sipping a glass of scotch.His blond hair still laid perfectly even after a long tiring day at work.

"From PR?Holy shit!Good job!"Hange said slapping Levi’s shoulder hurting her hand in the process.The man didn’t even falter from where he stood,all he did was stare straight at her before scowling."It's not a big deal.”He said settling his gaze on his side.

Hange smiled.

He’s shy.Levi Ackerman is actually being shy about getting asked out by an adorable strawberry blonde colleague.Isn’t that precious?She’d never seen him like that before.Heaven knows how much she wanted to tease him about his situation but she can clearly tell by the way he clenched his jaw and the deep creases on the space between his brows that if she says anything,he'd run straight to the wall to escape,cartoon style.

Mike started telling the story and Levi sneakily started edging towards the exit.Before the questions came flooding in,Levi was already gone.

“I think I should follow him.“Hange announced.

"Try to convince him to go out with Ral!"Mike shouted which prompted Erwin to take his drink away from him."I think you had enough."

"Goodluck!"Nanaba raised her drink at her.Before helping Erwin keep Mike's drink away from him.

#

Hange found Levi brooding on the sidewalk while smoking.”Can I get a light?”She asked.

“Its cold.”He said,which also translates to she should go back inside or she’ll catch a cold.Levi’s nice like that,it took everything in her to hold back and not make a snide comment.He alwas hated it when he gets called out for being considerate.

“So Petra Ral huh?”She started.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“We don’t have to,If you don’t want to.”Hange calmly took a box of cigarettes from her pocket and stood a bit closer to him.

“Good.”He said before tossing her his lighter.

Hange bit her lower lip to stifle a smile and Levi was already armed with his grumpy face.He's getting a little agitated.She let the silence drag on for a while as she started to giddily shift from where she stood.Unable to contain her curiosity.

“But its Petra Ral...The Petra Ral!Our company sweetheart.”She exploded.

“I barely know her.”

"Isn’t that what dating is for?!Besides,She probably just needs to get dicked down."Hange said casually."Go for it!Have a little fun.What’s there to lose?"

"Yeah well...I don't think I could."Levi started bouncing his leg.Is he nervous?Agitated?Both?It seemed like he's trying to say something.

“Levi,you know we wont judge you if you’re gay right?You don’t have to hide it from us.”

“Why would I be hiding that if I was?”

“Then what are you nervous for?"

“I’m not nervous...I.."Levi paused as if he's considering if he should tell her."I haven’t...I...”

“You're acting like you've never been out on a date."she said.

Levi visibly stiffened and averted her curious eyes.From where she sat,she could see how levi clenched his jaw and feel him hold his breath.No?It cant be...

"Oh.Its been a while for you huh?like 6 months?"She tried to take a wild stab but was met with silence.Hange sobered."You’ve never been on a date before?"she repeated a little louder than she meant to and not soon after she found Levi's hand over her mouth.

“You wanna scream that a little louder?“

“EVER?!”She peeled his hand off her face and asked.

“Tch.I dont need this.“Levi rolled his eyes and started leaving but hange caught his arm.

"Hey!I'm sorry.I didn't know.Its nothing to be embarrassed about.Its just,its a little uncommon you know.I'm really sorry.I didn't mean to be a dick.”

She assumed that its not because of the lack of people who wanna date with him.Believe it or not,this whole quiet mysterious guy persona is a total chick magnet.She even had several people from the office ask about him every once in a while.So what happened?Is it trauma?Is he aromantic?Holy shit!How could she be so insensitive?

“Stop looking at me like that.”He frowned.Snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,I was just thinking...”

“Don’t think of anything.Just mind your own business and let me be.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I let you be?”

“A good one.And stop drawing conclusions!I can practically see the thoughts up your head.I'm not anything I just...dont know how.”

“why are you so intent on giving up?!I thought you like her!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh please Ackerman!How can you not?She's the perfect mix of adorable,kind,fiesty and beautiful...she’s perfect for you!”

"What do you want me to do?"he asked,in his how can I make you shut up tone.

"What if I help you?You could...I dont know...practice with me?I could help you with the whole dating thing!"Levi looked at her as if she grew another head.Honestly shes just happy he didn't look disgusted with her proposal.He gave her a once over before pinching the bridge of his nose.She knows this maneuver.Its the what-have-i-gotten-my-self-into or holy-shit-am-I-actually-considering-this move.“Are you sure about this?”He asked.

Hange made a gesture of crossing over her heart and raising her right hand up and levi scrunched his brows together.

“Quit downplaying this.I’m serious.”

“I wont offer it if my not 100% I’m serious. The last guy I went out with was a total disappointment and Petra deserves better than that.You know she helped me last Christmas...”

“Yeah,yeah she helped you change your tire."He supplied,refraning hange from tellong the story again.

“And in exchange I'm gonna help you be more fun and well rounded for your date!It's the circle of life!”Hange enthusiastically smiled.

“Alright.How do we start?”Levi asked.

"Ask Petra to reschedule your date for next week,Then we can take the whole week to practice."

#

The harsh sun bore down on Levi as if reminding him never to indulge Hange with her antics again.Aparrently,she found Petra's online journal and identified that she had two dream dates.One is a carnival date (which explains why he is standing in line for cotton candy out in the middle of the goddamn afternoon.) and the other was spending an evening at a local jazz bar in the city.

Levi doesn't know how she successfully lured him out.You see,he liked his comfort zone and for some unknown reason Hange always challenged him to take a step out of the little box he created around him.And although there are times when she proved that taking a risk was worth it,Levi never really appreciated getting stuck in very shitty situations like now.He doesn't know how she seemed fine with all these shitty conditions.Maybe because she's been busy talking about her new droid remodel.

"Hey Levi are you listening to me?"

"Yes."He said exasperated.

"What was I saying then?"She folded her arms and raised her brows,challenging him.

"You're planning to replace fiberglass with aerogel as insulator on your next shitty droid."He said which earned a bright smile from her.Tch!He rolled his eyes at that and stepped forward after the couple infront of them was served with an unreasonable amount of cotton candy.

"I'll get the giant sunshine surprise."Hange said and the vendor then started shaping the cotton candy into a big daisy.Hange looks absolutely delighted.

"That will be 50 dollars."The vendor said offering his open palm to him which prompted him to turn towards Hange."Oh!let me get my wallet!"Hange started going though her bag and for some reason he felt chills run through him.WheN he raised his head,he noticed that people around them started glaring at him.Oh great he forgot!He's in a fake date.He assumed people still think he's obligated to pay.Tch.So fucking primitive.Although he's never the guy who gave much fuck about what others think,he didnt want people to think Hanges being mistreated.Begrudgingly,he paid for the goddamn cotton candy.Hange took that opportunity to talk about how expenses should be handled during dates,she personally likes going dutch but immediately started going on about some studies that says women generally like it when the males carries out the expenses.

Hange's like a battery that never runs out of energy.She wanted to ride every possible attraction from the carnival!Beads of sweat are starting to form on her forehead but she never seem to notice,he started leading her to a park bench to rest for a bit.He appreciated how much she prepared.She was very keen on citing the psychology articles and some magazines she read to help him be better at dating.He doesn't even know why would anyone even exert that much effort for him.

She really is something.

He pulled out his handkerchief out of his pocket and started gently dabbing it on her forehead.

She smiled.

#

Hange didn't really need to teach him much.Despite the seemingly abrasive qualities Levi possess,the man is a very courteous guy.He said thank you,please and treated the park employees with respect.Shes pretty sure he wouldnt have much trouble impressing a girl."You never told me why you've never been out on a date."She started.

"I was never asked."Levi shrugged as if telling her its no big deal.Hange was shocked at his honesty but appreciated his straight answer.

"Based on my observations today I'd say all those girls that didnt ask you out missed out on a good time."

"Tch!Quit bullshitting me."

"It's true!You diligently listened to my stories, joined me riding all the  and most importantly,you bought me an unreasonably overprized cotton candy."

Levi let out a soft chuckle at that and Hange immediately panicked.This is the first time she ever made him chuckle and goddamn it was glorious.It's like his features lit up and made him look years younger.She had to bit her lower lip to sort of calm her wild heartbeat.They stayed seated on the bench for a while when Levi surprisingly asked her to walk around some more.As they started to amble along the park,an idea popped on her head.

#

Her hands gently crept on his wrist and made way to cup his hand "what the..."He glared at their joined hands,but didn't find the need to pull away."You're sticky."He remarked

"Does sticky hands really matter if youre holding hands with your crush?"She asked.He kept his eyes on her and he saw blush creep up to her face."I-I mean not me...I meant Petra...which is basically me because im her placeholder at the moment and..."

"Hange."

"Hm?"

"Shut up."He slipped his Fingers against the gaps of hers and continued wandering around the park.

[hesesols]

Into the WILD

Day 16 of Ichiruki month 2020

Trapped inside fantasy MMORPG. Send help please?

Rating: T

FF/ao3

.

The first thing that strikes him as odd is that the ground underneath him is dewy soft. Not that the carpet in his tiny student accommodation isn't soft. It just isn't as soft by comparison and doesn't smell so strongly of grass and urgh- he hates pollen with a vengeance.

It makes his nose itch like mad and –

Wait!

Last time he checked summer was already over and the northern hemisphere was entering early autumn.

.

Brown eyes open in alarm.

The sun is in his eyes as he sits up and he's lying in a sea of golden tulips and ruby red camellias, blades of grass and crushed flowers under his fingertips.

He isn't alone.

There are others next to him. Each one garbed in unusual medieval clothing- intimidating-looking armours with spikes and brightly-coloured capes, fur-trimmings and equally garish-looking armbands; brandishing weapons that range from claymores to wooden staffs. Everyone seems to be in more or less the same state of disbelief and wide-eyed amazement at their new surroundings.

Where are they?

And holy shit! Is that a real-life armoured bear?

.

"You look like you could use a hand there, Kurosaki."

"Ishida?"

Ishida or at least who he assumes to be Ishida- his annoying cousin of sorts and fellow guild member- stands in front of him, offering an outstretched hand. Ichigo recognizes the voice but those pointy ears, the gleaming ivory bow that stands at a grown man's height and strange cleric-like clothing- those are definitely new. He grabs hold of it and pulls himself up, wiping at the grass stains with a fierce scowl before turning to the strange elf-like creature.

"What are you wearing?

Uryuu snorts, "I could ask you the very same question, Kurosaki."

Ichigo glances at the midnight black armour he has on- light weight, extra resistance to magic and +25% endurance to all physical attacks- wait, where did that come from?- the reassuring weight of Zangetsu in his hands-

He blinks.

.

Name: Zangetsu. Also known as: Sword of the Moon, Cursed Fang. Status: Legendary. Raid item from the Sacking of the Gollum King's Palace at Hueco Mundo. The mythical black blade forged by the Grandmaster Yhwach over the Fires of Sokyouku for a full year and a half in preparation for the Conquest of the Soul King's Throne (see also Conquest of the Soul King's Throne). Grants the wielder—

.

Reeling from the surprise, he falls flat on the grass.

How the hell did that just happen? How did all those words and background information just pop into his head unprompted? Almost like they're in a fantasy RPG gam—

"What's going on?"

Uryuu's smile is grim and sardonic, sliding the half-moon glasses up the bridge of his nose before he tells him, "Don't freak out but I think we're inside the game."

.

.

.

"Anything?"

Uryuu shakes his head.

Ichigo sighs. The lines of communication are down and no one has been able to log back out into the real world since they first entered.

"This doesn't make any sense at all!"

10,000 WILD players across the world and different servers who were online and active at precisely 12 midnight that day somehow found themselves transported into the game world and trapped there as their game character persona.

They're calling it the Lockdown.

No one has a clue as to why they were the only people affected, nor do they know how they came to. One minute they were logged in, playing the game as usual; the next thing they know they're lying flat on their asses in this strange new world strongly reminiscent of the game world of WILD, as their respective game characters.

He's one of the lucky ones he thinks. As a human Swords Master, there isn't much alteration to him besides the clothes and the muscle bulk added to his physique, unlike Chad who woke up as a bear armed to the teeth with a war axe and metal gauntlets. It wouldn't have been a pleasant wake up call for anyone, much less someone who wakes up trapped inside a fantasy MMORPG.

"What about Keigo then? Have you managed to locate him yet?"

Uryuu's eyebrow twitches. The pale blue glow from his hand falters for a fraction of a second when his attention shifts to shoot his guild leader a nasty glare.

Ichigo growls before mumbling out an apology to the raven-haired Cleric. He knows of course that Uryuu is trying his best and really in a strange new world that seems equal parts deadly and fascinating, the best is all they can do.

He's just … frustrated over the lack of answers and to make matters worse, one of their own still remains unaccounted for. Out of all the guild members who decided to switch servers during the Lockdown, it just had to be Keigo- scatterbrain extraordinaire. He wouldn't trust Keigo not to get sold on some crazy-ass get-rich-quick scheme in the real world, let alone in this virtual reality full of bloodthirsty monsters just waiting to make a nice dinner out of unsuspecting players.

The double doors to his studies are suddenly pushed apart, jolting him out of his thoughts. Orihime stumbles in barefooted and narrowly avoids tripping over the trail of her druidic dress robes in her excitement. Her cheeks are flushed and the pretty flowers in her flower crown bloom and blossom in magnificent shades of pinks and violets as she makes her announcement.

"Kurosaki-kun! I have his location!"

Ichigo jumps to his feet.

.

Finally!

.

It's the first piece of good news he's had since he found himself stranded here with the rest of his guild members.

"So where is the idiot then?"

Behind her, trails Tatsuki- their resident cynic and Shield Maiden who purses her lips and informs both him and Uryuu rather miserably, "You're not going to like this. He's in the Forest."

Ichigo resists the urge to face-palm as he sees Uryuu rubbing at his temple.

"Keigo must have been on his way back to HQ and decided to take the shorter route," Uryuu rationalizes things- as the team tactician he excels at it, "he couldn't possibly have known."

That's right. Keigo couldn't possibly have known that he would get sucked into the game and be left standing in place of his game character.

Tatsuki gives a derisive snort, "Doesn't make a difference. A level 25 Bard like him can't possibly survive the Forest of Hueco Mundo alone. He's going to get himself killed. The Forest is no man's land- level 70+ Hollows and player killers aren't warded out."

All eyes turn to their orange-haired team leader.

"What do you want us to do?"

Call it instincts but Ichigo has a nasty suspicion that player death in their new world would also mean certain death in the real world. The thought makes him nauseous and for obvious reasons, he isn't too keen on testing out the theory himself.

Keigo may be a pain-in-the-neck and downright insufferable at times but damn it! He's one of them. He's their pain-in-the-neck and they can't just leave him there.

In the real world, Ichigo Kurosaki may be just an ordinary university student bogged down by studies but here in WILD, he's a guild leader, it's his job to look after his guild members and he pledges to make sure that every single one of them makes it back home to the real world in one piece.

Ichigo heaves a loud weary sigh, grabbing the sleek black katana by his side.

"Let's go get our idiot back!"

.

.

.

"I told you we should have gone left instead of right!"

Tatsuki can feel her skull throbbing. She should have just stayed behind with Chad and Orihime.

"Stop yelling at me! It's not my bloody fault that you're so fucking incompetent that you couldn't get a better map!"

"Oh so I'm the incompetent one?! Never mind I was the one who organized the rations! We would have starved to death days ago if I hadn't triple checked our provisions!"

Tatsuki grimaces as the feel of exhaustion creeps in as does the unbearable chaffing on her thighs. It wasn't just the lines of communications that were shut off with the Lockdown. It turns out the Portals- their main means of transport have also been disrupted and that means that the full distance between Karakura and the Forest had to be covered by good old-fashioned horse-riding.

They've been riding nonstop since they left Karakura, trading horses with NPCs in the farmlands nearby to push ahead at a gruelling pace and rescue Keigo as soon as possible. It is a noble cause but the trade-off for the weeks' long worth of hard-riding leaves the three riders surly and sullen. This virtual reality that they're trapped in certainly feels real enough, right down to hunger pangs and sore muscles.

Chaffed thighs, bland food, little sleep and the heat (the sheer humidity was making her hair frizz) made for horrible traveling condition and it seems that both Ichigo and Uryuu are about to hit their respective boiling points.

She rolls her eyes, tugging at her horse's rein to halt.

"Both of you need to shut up before –"

A sudden rustling in the bushes nearby draws their collective attention and sure enough from the depth of the overgrown bushes, a Hollow emerges. This one seems more reptilian in features, flickering pink tongue and all. Something jumps at the back of her mind but Tatsuki ignores it.

The Guide is nothing more than a useless collection of WILD lore and trivia.

She doesn't need a lecture on Hollow classes and their special attacks to know that the only good Hollow is a dead one.

With a loud battle war cry, she unsheathes her blade and leads the charge, throwing herself against the beast.

.

.

Ichigo leaps through the dense foliage with Zangetsu drawn and bloodied in his hand. Despite Tatsuki's misgivings about his foolhardy plans and recklessness, the woman is just as bad with her own brand of battle lust, leading the charge like a crazy berserker.

All hell literally broke loose the second they stormed through the clearing. The sheer number of the Hollow horde overwhelmed them and forced them to break formation and the three of them took off in different directions in a bid to divide the remaining Hollows' attention.

He ducks behind a tree to catch his breath. Having lost sight of both Uryuu and Tatsuki during their retreat, he is in a sour mood and more than a little embarrassed that a level 98 Swordsmaster like him is being forced back by a horde of weakling Hollows in level 50s.

"Psst. Ichigo."

Ichigo grips Zangetsu tightly, eyes nervously darting at his surroundings. He could have sworn that he heard Keigo's voice. Well it's either that or he's officially losing his mind.

"Over here."

A head pops out from the bushes next to him and Ichigo reacts accordingly- nearly slicing the newcomer's head clean off his shoulder and Keigo almost becomes a casualty of friendly fire before Ichigo sees through the heavy layer of disguise and stops the blade mid-swing.

"Keigo?"

The bard is barely recognizable with his slashed and dirtied tunic, patches of dirt and dried leaves covering his face.

"The fuck you doing- sneaking up on me like that! I could have killed you!"

Keigo couldn't have cared less. With a loud wail and snot running down his face, he throws himself at his saviour and professes his undying gratitude in between hiccups and tears.

"ICHIGO! I knew you would come for me! I never doubted for a second!"

"Get off me! You stink!"

The happy reunion doesn't last as the roar of a Hollow and heavy footsteps of a lumbering giant still their movements. Ichigo pushes Keigo away from him and readies his blade, but even his quick reflexes are no match for the suddenness of the attack.

"ICHIGO!"

The Hollow's swipe knocks the air right out of him and sends him flying. The tree trunk of a young sapling snaps in half as his back connects painfully with it. The pain disorients him and he is enough of a doctor's son to recognize the signs of concussion. Also, he thinks he might have cracked a rib (or two) as fresh blood- metallic in taste gurgles past his throat.

His vision clears in time for him to see the Hollow- a Dragon class one with beady yellow, thick, iridescent scales covering its front and gigantic wings sprouted at his back, rearing up for another charge.

This time at Keigo, who is down on his knees- eyes wide with fear as he scrambles to get away from the advancing Hollow.

There's no time to think. Ichigo pushes everything he has- the very last spurt of HP and MP within him towards Keigo, taking his place before the monster with gapping mouth, awaiting certain death to come.

.

.

"Out of the way!"

His eyes snap open just in time to see a small lithe figure, sunlight reflecting off the bone white armour- so bright that he squints, leaping through air and landing gracefully on the Hollow's back. A glint of light flashes yet again and before his very eyes, one of the Hollow's tattered wings is cut off, an arc of blood spurts high into the air and the Hollow's roar of anguish follows.

"Are you deaf or stupid? Get out of the way!"

Ichigo doesn't hesitate. With Keigo tucked under his arm, he pushes past the pain and sprints for the clearing.

With them gone, the mysterious stranger makes quick work of the beast, easily dismantling its other wing before diving for the kill; sinking the white blade somewhere between the soft scruff, flabs of excess skin free from the scaly armour.

Ichigo watches in silence as the dying monster screeches in pain, a swan's song in roars of fury before it topples over with dead eyes, a fine cloud of dust from where its body fell.

With the urgency of the situation gone, he focuses on the newcomer. Sheathing Zangetsu as it becomes apparent from the markings and sigil on the stranger's shield and helmet that he is a Paladin, one dedicated to the path of the light. They're in safe hands- for now at least.

"Where did you come from?"

The Paladin regards him oddly.

"What do you mean?"

.

"Princess!"

Half a dozen of swords are suddenly drawn and held under their throats by what seems to be a band of armed knights. Their armours gleam with the same bone-white shine and the leader of the men- a tall redhead with inked markings across his forehead approaches them with a fierce scowl and the intent to kill.

Next to him, Keigo yelps.

"The fuck!" Ichigo curses. His chest hurts, he's barely standing on his feet and now this?

Can this day get any worse?

.

"Watch your mouth, you punk!" The redhead growls threateningly, "You're in the presence of the Princess."

Amber eyes narrow. Did they think he's stupid? There's no one vaguely even female in their company unless—

The Paladin removes his helmet and a cascade of black hair- dark as the night pours forth. Apple cheeks, soft petal lips and elfin features curtailed somewhat by the iciness of her stare and her unsmiling face.

Their eyes meet.

.

Oh!

.

The short stature suddenly makes so much sense. Ichigo gulps.

"They're Heroes, Renji."

Renji scowls and gives them a dirty look.

Ichigo's eyebrows knot in confusion. "Hang on- what do you mean by Heroes and how are you a princess? Royalty isn't a job class and Paladins don't call themselves Princesses. I don't care what level you are, that's not allowed by the game admins."

The smile on the woman's face- Ichigo doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he's about to be made into a fool of epic proportions, especially when she pushes past her armed guards and tilts his face up by the chin with the tip of her white blade.

Smirking with dark violet eyes gleaming, she tells him, "That's because I'm not a Hero. Look closer."

Sure enough- when Ichigo focuses his gaze at her, her presence is shrouded in golden aura. The Guide pings- very belatedly and most unhelpfully, he might add.

.

Name: HRH Princess Rukia of the noble house of the Kuchiki, heir apparent to the throne of Seireitei. Status: NPC

.

He bites his tongue.

"B-But- but NPCs aren't sentient," Keigo blurts out.

Ichigo turns just in time to see him give out a pained yelp, being pummelled by the angry redhead, "Oh I'll show you how non-sentient my fists are!"

He winces. That looks like it would hurt… a lot. But Keigo's an idiot with thick skin, he'll live.

Rukia- her name rolls off his tongue easily. He refuses to even entertain the idea of addressing her by her royal title. For starters, a princess isn't supposed to be a Paladin, or know how to fight or use a sword, or look this good while having him at her mercy.

He gulps when violet eyes narrow at him.

"And you? Do you think that NPCs are non-sentient beings too?"

Ichigo is a fast learner and gives a quick shake of his head.

"Good-" her lips curve into a smile, hair dipping low to tease at the contours of his face as she whispers into his ear- "Because this NPC just saved your life. I'll show you just how deadly I am with my sword before you dismiss me as just another background token NPC."

The sword tip leaves his neck.

"Now, hold still."

That's all the warning he gets before a green glow is emitted from her hands- smelling faintly of mint and something fresh he can't quite name. He shuts his eyes, letting the healing magic wash over him, knitting most of his superficial cuts and wounds back into place.

When the light fades, his chest still hurts but at the very least he feels a little less light-headed and breathes a little easier despite the pain.

He wants to thank her- both for her healing and her timely rescue from the Hollow but she refuses to meet his eyes.

"Renji," she barks at her captain of guards who immediately stands to attention.

"Take them with us. He needs a proper healer. I can't set his broken ribs."

"It's Ichigo!" he calls out, interrupting their conversation and earning himself a hard glare from Renji but Rukia's gaze is almost thoughtful.

"Can you still ride, Ichigo?"

He nods.

A horse is brought to him under Rukia's instructions and as soon as he is properly mounted with Keigo seated behind him, the woman sounds the horn, black hair unbound and flailing in the wind as she leads the company into a gallop.

"To Seireitei!"

.

.

FF/ao3

Review, like, comment or reblog to send some love my way pretties~~~

I have a thing for fantasy AUs. Can’t you tell? Click on link for rec list of some off-main Isekai/Game animes. I have a special place in my heart for them.

[horizonwitch]

The Archangel Theory - A Possible Explanation to MCR's new symbolism

Hello! This is a very long post, but I hope it’s worth the reading. Sorry.

I am Nana, and today I bring you a fan-theory on the meaning behind MyChem's symbols presented to us in the occasion of the band's return announcement and later on, at the actual reunion concert day.

First Considerations:

1. being it, as the title implies, a fan-theory, I do not claim any of the exposed to be factual when associated to MCR. I bring this thread to you guys in hopes that we can discuss, expand, teach and learn with each other, and maybe come to some sort of conclusion. Riddles are fun to play, especially together. I love riddles in fandom experience. :)

2. I highly apologize for my limited vocabulary and weird phrasing. I am not a native english speaker, but I'll try my best to make this understandable to everyone;

3. Despite my personal beliefs and stupid jokes, I mean no disrespect to any religion or symbol mentioned in here. (just as much as I believe MyChem also doesn't, on the wild possibility of this thread being on point with what they planned, lol).

That being said, before we start, I have some thanks to give:

this theory was only put together thanks to my lovely mychem group chat, composed by Raffs, Clara, Caroline and Hana. thanks for all the time and effort we shared, and for holding my brain with your bare hands when it was about to melt, friends.

Also thanks to Frank Iero himself, for laughing at me on twitter for me not being able to understand the reunion clues, despite "wearing a California 2019 shirt for 6 years". I humbly accept the possibility of this theory having nothing to do with the truth, but I sure hope I can laugh back at you in the end, rat. I love you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, let's finally head to The Archangel Theory, or, as I like to call it, The “If We're Not Careful We'll Turn Into Catholics” Theory, and how it all started.

It was Halloween. Everyone here was minding their own damn business (I was being a clown on twitter, Hana was putting on her badass revenge-themed makeup. You know, the usual). And we all know what happened: MCR raised gracefully from the dead, dropping brand new symbolism and a stunning angel image to our poor panicked hearts. A few days later, when Hana’s crying ruined makeup was long gone and everyone calmed the F down a little bit, people started to ask themselves: okay, cool, but what does it mean?

Like many of you, the first thought that crossed my mind was tarot. Because, well, how f-ing cool would it be, right? I draw tarot everyday. I just loved the idea. Mychem posting a latin countdown with some eerie photo was just… yea, I was very excited with this.

Many of us also associated the symbols with past albums and even with the members themselves. All of these theories are very valid to me, and I loved reading them. I agree with many points raised.

Well, everything was fine (as fine as it could be, because I am so damn curious). The Return concert happened at the faithful date of December 20, California. We all freaked out and enjoyed the noble services’ of days_fate and diet_shampoo’s streaming. All that jazz.

But then: well… another angel. I started to think to myself: is this a pattern? The show ends, we get very emotional, everything is okay (i hate this pun) with the world. Frank Iero makes a post-concert post on instagram, talking about how everything was pure Magick. With a K.

For those unfamiliar, this is an occultist term related to Aleister Crowley’s Thelema, to differentiate the religious concept from the “stage magic” that we are used to. A very carefully picked name that I highly doubt someone would drop around without knowing what it implies.... Don’t even start me with the K and C keys being so damn far away from each other on a keyboard.

At this point me and my groupchat were starting to be very done with Frank’s clownery (we indeed love him very much for that), and so we started to hurt our minds every single day since then. that’s the result:

THE ARCHANGEL THEORY

Let’s Return™ to the basics: angels and, probably, tarot.

Funny enough, there are actually angels in tarot cards. There are many types of decks, but for this we are using the most famous one, which most people believe holds ancient symbolism, The Rider-Waite Tarot.

There are many angels and archangels mentioned in the Bible (only a few by name, tho), but only four of them made it into being represented in tarot cards: Uriel, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. Let’s get the gang together and meet the holy crew (please, forgive me for the puns).

Uriel:

whose name means “the light of god”, “the flame of god”. It’s the Wise Angel, often pictured as the one who holds books and scrolls and bears holy knowledge and understanding. or Clarity, if you will. They’re sort of the goth one™, associated with the Tartarus and being pictured as pitiless as any demon would; even holding the key to Hell during the end of times, Uriel is described as the angel who watches “over thunder and terror”. Uriel is sometimes even mistaken for a demon (apparently, the eastern catholicism accepts Uriel identity as an archangel, while the western catholicism gives more credit to its dark side, and does not encourage worshiping); this duality comes from the notion that very often, enlightenment may be the end result of dark times. Every archangel has many, I said MANY symbols attached to them, so other elements associated with this angel can be found on the image attached to this post.

About Uriel’s Tarot Card: if you were raised in a catholic family and slept through as much catechism as I did as a kid, maybe you’ll be surprised to know that Lucifer, Satan and Uriel are all different beings. Let it be a lesson: no matter how edgy of a teen you are, please accept knowledge from any possible source. Putting this thread together would’ve been so easier to me now if I did, haha... That being said, our angel Uriel is actually the Devil in the Devil Tarot card, which meaning touches on addiction, obsession, feeling imprisoned or restrained, but it being only an illusion of powerlessness. This card is an invitation to free yourself, fight distractions and temptation, and finally fulfill your destiny. Please, consider that tarot readings are very deep and variable; there’s extensive books only on tarot meaning, so I won’t explore much on each card. that’s just a very general notion.

Some sources also consider Uriel to be the responsible for the change represented in the Death card, despite not being directly pictured in such card. As stated before, Uriel is associated with the concept Death brings, being a turning point, and ending route.

The symbolism presented in the Devil card (as for the Rider-Waiter deck):

“At the foot of the Devil stand a man and a woman, both naked and chained to the podium on which the Devil sits. They appear to be held here against their will – but look closer, and you will notice that the chains around their necks are loose and could be easily removed. Each has small horns on their head, like the devil’s, a sign that they are becoming increasingly like him the longer they stay here. Both have tails, a further symbol of their animalistic tendencies and raw instincts, and the grapes and the fire on their respective tails signify pleasure and lust.”

Poor people. If only they knew better. A lil bit of Clarity, huh?

That’s it for MCR’s clarity symbol, conveniently shaped as a candle.

Michael:

whose name means “who is like god” (being it a rhetorical question, to mean that no one equals to God). It’s the Protector Angel. They’re the leader of angels in the battle against demons, Defender of God’s realm against Satan in the Book of Revelation. Michael is a warrior, and is often seem with the sword in hand, to allure to the idea of bravery. They’re described as the angel of strength, protection and Courage.

About Michael’s Tarot Card: Michael appears on the major arcana Temperance. In fact, even the name “Temperance” comes from the process of refining and strengthening materials in metallurgy. this one likes swords a lot, huh. That’s a card which meaning touches on patience and prudence. It means already having a clear vision and knowing what you want to achieve. Now It’s all about thinking before action, and accepting the balance of things, blending the opposites to achieve an ideal solution. Apparently a very suited card for a warrior of faith. Prepare yourself: in my research, I’ve found a source that associates this card with the color blue (the very same of the archangel) and the musical note G. Yes, the universe has a strange sense of humor.

The symbolism presented in the Temperance card: “The vessels in the angel’s hands represent the vessel that contains eternal life. The flowers are Irises symbolising the goddess Iris who links God to humanity. Iris travels from one end of the world to another, into the depth of the sea and the underworld. The angel’s feet, one on land and one in water, symbolise the unification of the external and internal, conscious and subconscious. It also represents testing the waters before jumping into the unknown. The red wings on the angel represent blood which symbolizes life. The sun conceals a crown which represents a connection to higher power. The triangle on the angel’s dress is an equilateral triangle and symbolise spirit, divinity, fire, life, prosperity, and harmony. It can also symbolise God and the holy trinity. The square outside the triangle represents protection and stability.”

The MCR symbol for Courage is a drop. is it a drop of blood? for an warrior angel and their endless battles on God’s behalf? Of water, the waters of unknown? The water of balance of life? I don’t know.

When Michael / was a young genderless being,/ their father…

Gabriel:

whose name means “strength of god”. It’s the Messenger Angel; Gabriel is often portrayed playing the trumpet, to make announcements of God’s will. (many angels play the trumpets on Revelations book,, but Gabriel seems to be the most intimately attached to this concept). In the hierarchy of angels, Gabriel seems to occupy a very high position, being knows as the “Left Hand of God” (our Michael aforementioned being the Right-hand angel).

Their famous appearances on the Bible includes appearing to Zechariah and the Virgin Mary, foretelling the births of John the Baptist and Jesus. Islam also has Gabriel appearing for many prophets, telling them the divine plans. In a way, all those messages are basically callings to a higher purpose, a proof of faith, a personal Sacrifice. This idea is reiterated by the symbolism of Gabriel’s tarot card.

Gabriel is also one of the Angels of Death (depending on the religious we are speaking about, there are over 14 different angels with this role). Not in a dark way, their role is to comfort and bring peace to the deceased, guiding them into the light. Gabriel is therefore an angel of mercy, redemption achieved through a proof of faith (often a self-sacrifice, of any nature), after a fair judgement. speaking of which…

About Gabriel’s tarot card: Gabriel appears on the major arcana Judgement, which meaning touches on taking responsibility for your actions, speaking the truth. It’s a beginning/ending type of card, but a different kind of change than the one represented on one of Uriel’s card, Death. While Death brings something unstoppable, more powerful than anyone’s options, Judgement usually portraits something you can actually choose to take part in. But it also your responsibility any consequences of not taking this step. A fair judgement, indeed.

The Symbolism presented in the Judgement card: “The angel with the Trumpet could be a reference to the angels and the seven trumpets in Revelation, bringing apocalypse and resurrection. The white banner with the red cross can be St. George Flag, and a reference to Saint George gives Judgement the symbolism of sacrifice done in the name of our faith. Both the flag and the trumpet are military symbols of authority. A man, a woman and a child are being called from the tomb of ego consciousness. The three people are reflected on the other side of the river, another symbol of the soul’s victory over death. The three people are also a symbol of the three pillars of the tree of life. The man and the woman has changed side from the familiar feminine on the left and masculine on the right. In Judgement it is the other way around. Perhaps it is to unify us and to tell us to look at a situation from a different perspective, from within. You are seeing the pillars from the Angel’s perspective. This symbolises to raise your thinking and ask for Divine Perspective. The mountains represent the structure that surrounds us all.”

Calling all units! Time for the ultimate vibe check.

I guess that’s it for our third MCR symbol, Sacrifice, shaped as hand. Is it a left hand, just like one of Gabriel’s titles? that would be interesting.

But not so fast.

Now we come to an interesting point. Gabriel is the first of our angels to have a sculpture used by My Chem. :) It’s actually endearing how, if this assumption is correct, they chose the messenger archangel to bring the good news: mcr is alive!

About Gabriel’s sculpture: our Return angel, as some of us already know by this point, is actually a piece called “Angelo e Alma”, by italian artist Pasquale Rizzoli. It is located on Cella Magnani, a memorial chapel of the Magnani family, inside Certosa di Bologna, which is a very antique monastery, later transformed on a monumental cemetery for many italian families. You can take a look here, it’s stunningly beautiful.

Finished in 1906, this piece was a commission by the widow of a war veteran called Natale Magnani, who apparently died young. As far as I understand written italian, since I speak portuguese (latin languages perks, yey!), it’s still difficult to me to do further research on this family. Being it an old, traditional italian family, there’s tons of Magnanis, but there’s little to no info on Natale or his wife’s lives on the internet, it seems. If you’re italian and have any info about this, please comment. It can actually be relevant to this thread.

This sculpture portraits an angel ascending to heavens, guiding a soul (represented as a woman in a long dress). There’s rose branches and lilies at the feet of both the angel and the soul, as they fly together. These flowers pay homage to Magnani’s family blazon, as stated by the Storia i Memoria di Bologna Project website, that also offers on their site a brief explanation on the meaning behind the many other plants on this piece. they all basically allure to death, sleep, and resurrection. you can check it out here.

The presented symbolism, being an angel appearing to a soul in their travel to the spiritual realm, and even the flowers used, lead me to conclude that this sculpture very likely pictures our Archangel Gabriel, in their judgement roles again.

Now, our holy rpg party already has a mage, a paladin and a bard. It’s time to introduce the most underappreciated (and my personal favorite) class:

Raphael:

whose name means “God heals”. Raphael is the angel for healing, thus making ‘whole’ everything that has been broken. They’re also a patron for lovers, role that he plays by using his healing powers in a non-literal way. Pay attention to the “fixing the broken and making it a whole again” part, that’s the connotation.

Both of these titles come from the roles Raphael played, depicted on the scriptures: the most famous ones being when Raphael was sent by the Lord to heal Tobit of his blindness and to deliver Sarah, his future daughter-in-law, from the demon Asmodeus, who killed every man she married on their wedding night before the marriage could be consummated.

Another famous role commonly related to Raphael is about the Pool of Bethesda. Despite not being mentioned by name, manuscripts of John 5:1–4 describe an angel that blessed this pool, healing the illness of those who touched its waters:

"an angel of the Lord descended at certain times into the pond; and the water was moved. And he that went down first into the pond after the motion of the water was made whole of whatsoever infirmity he lay under". It’s usually given credit to Raphael for this action, since they’re seem using healing power to fulfill God’s will in many occasions through the Bible.

About Raphael’s Tarot card: Raphael appears on the major arcana The Lovers, as the angel blessing the couple depicted. This is a card about romantic, even sexual, attraction, but not purely that. It’s about finding peace within yourself, and in someone else, about the journey to pick “the one” for you. Making a whole out of two halves is a common concept associated with this card.

Symbolism presented on The Lovers card: “the man and the woman in the image are being protected and blessed by an angel above. The couple seems secure and happy in their home, which appears to be the Garden of Eden. The fruit tree with the snake behind the woman is a reference to that story, which tells of humanity's fall into temptation and into the realm of flesh and sensuality. The angel depicted here is Raphael, the angel of air - who is of the same element of the zodiac sign that governs this card: Gemini. Air is associated with mental activity, and communication in particular, which is the foundation for healthy relationships. His blessing seems to give this card a sense of balance and harmony, the symbolization of union in a grand and cosmic sense between two opposing forces.”

Another source adds: “The couple stands in a beautiful, fertile landscape, reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. Behind the woman stands a tall apple tree, with a snake winding its way up the trunk. The serpent and apple tree represent the temptation of sensual pleasures that may take one’s focus away from the Divine. Behind the man is a tree of flames, which represent passion, the primary concern of the man. The twelve flames suggest the twelve zodiac signs, the symbol of time and eternity. The man looks to the woman, who watches the angel, showing the path of the conscious to the subconscious to the super-conscious, or from physical desire to emotional needs to spiritual concerns. The volcanic mountain in the background is rather phallic and represents the eruption of passion that happens when man and woman meet in full frontal nudity.”

Despite the latter being a bit too horny for my tastes, lol, both descriptions reiterate Raphael’s influence on the role of patronizing health and union, a journey of Devotion.

Oh, about the MCR symbol, shaped as a half-sun. at first I couldn’t find a correlation to Raphael and this sun shape, as for the first three angels it was very clear to me since just as I started reading about them. Then I realized the huge sun portrayed on The Lovers card, behind Raphael.

Despite holding its individual meanings, Tarot cards are not meant to me taken isolatedly. (that’s one of the reasons many people are not found of the single card yes-or-no type of drawing). That being said, it is not a surprised to find traces of one card on another, and many shared symbolism. As for the sun, it appears multiple times on the Rider-Waite deck, but only one card holds the same exact half shaped, upside down, centered sun as the MCR symbol. and that’s The Lovers. :)

Now, our romantic archangel lead us to a very lovely part:

About Raphael’s Sculpture: as we waited for MCR to dramatically drop the curtain at the reunion show, we were being watched over by a piece nicknamed “Angel of the Waters,” from the Bethesda Fountain (have you heard this name before?), located in the Bethesda Terrace, Central Park, in NYC. sculpted by Emma Stebbins in 1864, this piece’s history, together with Central Park’s history can be fully read in this awesome article that my friend Clara found: here.

But since we’re already here, let’s try to make a shorter version, focusing on what’s relevant to this thread.

Upon release, the angel, which stands and above and blesses a water fountain, was directly associated with the Bethesda Pool mentioned in the Bible, and the healing acts of Raphael. On the dedication pamphlet it was quoted the very same passage from the Gospel of John, chapter 5, verses 2-4 I’ve mentioned before. It’s a shame I couldn’t find any pictures of this pamphlet on the internet. Old documents, huh. NY people, if you have access to this, I’d love to see it.

If we stopped there, it would be enough evidence to assume the connection to Raphael, but there’s more! There’s some particularities about this statue.

Its conception was a huge deal: Emma was the first woman to receive a major sculptural commission in New York City. Also, she had a female lover, the world-famous American actress Charlotte Cushman, who, for Cedar Miller, historian that wrote about Central Park and Emma’s statue, holds a huge impact on the Angel of Waters actually making into existence. In 1869, Cushman was diagnosed with breast cancer. In addition to having two mastectomies, Cushman tried water cures in England. (Water cures were a big craze from the 1830s through the 1860s). The historian who wrote about them finds it another connection to the statue itself. Unfortunately, Cushman's treatments were ultimately unsuccessful, she passed away in 1875. Emma followed her not long after, in 1882. To this day, the statue remains, and to NY is a gathering place to find tranquility, peace of mind, even in the darkest times through the its 141 years of existence. It’s a place to heal yourself.

It’s not your average Raphael statue.

We have the archangel connection, a devoted couple's backstory, and lesbian/sapphics rights. I don’t know about you, but I can even picture Gerard Way carefully picking this himself, haha.

Oh, a spicy fact I’ve learned while writing this: This angel sculpture is actually even older in MCR’s history, tracing back to revenge era merch. (I didn’t have much access to mcr merch back in the day so I didn’t know about this, I apologize!)

I guess someone got nostalgic for some catholic aesthetics, huh. Bless!

Angels in tarot, bonus addition:

It is valid to mention that not only all of the 4 mentioned archangels have their individual cards, they also appear together in a single card, The Wheel of Fortune. In this card, each angel can be seen in a corner: Raphael (Aquarius) is upper left, Gabriel (Scorpio) is the eagle, Michael (Leo) is the lion, and Uriel (Taurus) is the bull, appearing in disguise, a common thing for angels though the scriptures, it seems.

If you draw tarot, you understand how big of a deal it is. If you’re not familiar, here’s the basic notion: “The wheel of fortune is a card about cyclical change. The wheel keeps on rolling, churning events in a ceaseless progression of ups and downs, either way freeing us from the past. No one can escape its cyclical action, which can feel somewhat terrifying -- no matter whether we are rising or falling. When one is balanced on top of the wheel, there is a moment of crystal clarity. However, the only part of the wheel that's actually not going up and down is the hub, which represents your eternal self. Every one of us will occupy all the points on the wheel at one point or another. The cycle of the wheel is its lesson -- and we can learn to take comfort in it. If you don't like the look of things right now, just wait -- things will change. Of course, if you do like the look of things right now, enjoy it while it lasts, because that will change too!”

It is quite a powerful card that holds all of the aforementioned symbolism. Woa.

More symbolism seem on this card includes:

“The Wheel of Fortune card shows a giant wheel, with three figures on the outer edges. Four Hebrew letters – YHVH (Yod Heh Vau Heh), the unpronounceable name of God – are inscribed on the wheel’s face. There are also the letters TORA, thought to be a version of the word Torah, meaning ‘law’, or TAROT, or even ROTA (Latin for ‘wheel’). The middle wheel has the alchemical symbols for mercury, sulphur, water and salt – the building blocks of life and the four elements – and represents formative power. On the outer circle is a snake, the Egyptian god Typhon (the god of evil), descending on the left side. The snake also represents the life force plunging into the material world. On the right side rises the Anubis, the Egyptian God of the dead who welcomes souls to the underworld. And on top of the wheel sits the Sphinx, representing knowledge and strength.”

THE SECOND SET OF SYMBOLS - STILL A MYSTERY

So, after all this, if any of this is correct at all, we just learned the meaning behind the first four MCR symbols, released on halloween: Clarity, Courage, Sacrifice and Devotion.

Now, what about the ones released at the reunion show, on the merch truck? Well, my friends, we still have a lot to think about.

I am a doctor, and in my profession there’s a saying which instruct us to always think of what seems like a complicated situation, with many possibilities, as a single disease causing many effects. That was my train of thought as I tried to associate these new symbols with the Archangels that we already have. It may have nothing to do with that at all, but it’s worth trying.

Differently from the first set, the second set didn’t get an official release, and does not hold text captions to guide us on it’s meaning. the symbol shapes, however, are easier to associate with tarot cards than the first ones, in my opinion. I’ve seen people online trying to guess it too.

Having the angels and their aforementioned traits as a guiding line, I used some symbolism associated to each one to connect them to a new symbol, as you can see on the picture attached to this post.

I have some major problems with this, tho, the biggest one being the order of the symbols not matching the first set sequence. We had Uriel (Clarity) / Michael (Courage) / Gabriel (Sacrifice) and Raphael (Devotion). The second set order was Sword / Moon / Tower / Wand, so the sequence goes like Michael / Gabriel / Uriel / Raphael. It doesn’t match. Please, help me.

THINGS THAT KEEP ME UP AT NIGHT: ABOUT WITCHCRAFT AND… SOLDIERS?

During the past weeks of my life I’ve been researching all types of things to break this down, so I came across some very unsettling things that may be just wild coincidences or... something else? Just in case, I am putting them here in case anyone finds some connection that I couldn’t.

Sigils and Pagan influences, maybe?

As some people on twitter and reddit noticed, Gerard was using a sigil on his arm that reads “My Chemical Romance”. Every Archangel mentioned here also holds its own sigil, which is shown on the picture attached to this post. While I was excited about the dates for new concerts, I started to think, is there anything special about these dates? I tried to not overthink it because we probably have major influences of disponibilities and,,, Label issues...I don’t know? some very practical stuff going on. But still, I came across an interesting match.

There’s 8 sabbaths, composing the Wheel of the Year, “an annual cycle of seasonal festivals, observed by many modern pagans, consisting of the year's chief solar events (solstices and equinoxes) and the midpoints between them.”

eight sabbaths, eight symbols, huh. Initially, I tried to connect each symbol to a sabbath, but it was very… not satisfying enough to me, so I’m leaving that out; nonetheless, I still believe they hold some meaning similarities.

And it doesn’t stop there.

That our lovely wheel of the year: here. We’re using a northern hemisphere version, since MCR is based in the USA.

The band returned on Halloween, which is the Samhain that occurs between Oct 31 / Nov 1. There’s some minor variation on dates because the Celtic day begins and ends at sunset.

Return Show took place in California, Dec 20: which marks the start of Yule. (Yule dates range from Dec 19 to Dec 22, for the Celtic calendar reasons)

The next sabbath is Imbolt, that takes place on Feb 1 / Feb 2. MCR has nothing announced for this date until now.

2020 concerts will happen during the week of March 20, 21, 25, 28 and 29, In Australia, New Zealand and Japan, as for now. That marks the start of the Ostara sabbath, which start range is March 20/21.

so… can we expect something (anything?) being announced at Feb 1 or 2, or near that? What about all the remaining sabbaths? Is that a reach? is it related at all? oof.

Who said Danger Days isn’t goth enough?

Another VERY interesting thing my group chat found on the internet during our MCR tarot obsession. If this theory is correct, this is not the first time they would be alluring to it. Please look at this pic of Grace Jeanette, The Girl in DD universe, posing with the mailbox on the set of the “Art Is The Weapon”/“Na Na Na” video shoot (2010). (Exact source and photographer unknown; likely taken by Jeanette’s mother). (big thanks to tumblr user killjoyhistory).

Bellow the big “OH HELL” we have four tarot cards, on the very same deck we used for this thread, the Rider-Waite deck. The cards are The Tower, The Devil, Death and Three of Wands.

Please note that it may have no correlation to future works, since DD itself had religious symbolism with the Phoenix Witch and this mailbox (go read the comics if you didn’t already. DD rights!), it may be a DD-only thing. Also, please note that 3 out 4 of theses cards were already mentioned in this thread, all possibly related to archangel Uriel.

To wage this war against your faith in me, MCRMY.

So. This one will sound weird and maybe a reach too, but, hey, mychem is alive and breathing, I guess there’s nothing really impossible, haha….?

Are we all familiar with Gerard liking a lot that green coat? After all those years, I guess so.

Indeed, our lovely frontman used yet another green jacket as his return outfit. This time, it was a military one. As a foreigner, and being very ignorant on how the US Army works, I got curious about the badge on his jacket. Maybe that’s common sense to you guys and I’m just embarrassing myself, but hey! be kind to someone who’s sort of dying inside after all this thinking process, would you?

The badge on Gerard’s jacket happens to be from the 1st Armored Division, a.k.a the Old Ironsides, named after an old ship (and the world's oldest commissioned naval vessel still afloat).

Actually, the nickname “Old Ironsides” trace back to England in 17th century, during their Civil War, but I didn’t find many relevant content / possible connections, besides them being mostly Protestant, in terms of religion… referring to them after all this catholic-conception angel talk is some sort of metaphorical war going on, MCR? Who knows. History-loving english folks, I’m counting on you too now to confirm this, lmao!

The American side of the “Old Ironsides” term, after being passed down from England during their Independence Wars (please be kind with me, my knowledge about american independence is almost 100% from Hamilton the musical lmao, help me) apparently resides, mostly on the US Army/Navy.

Interesting coincidences (?) about this: the Old Ironside ship, aka USS Constitution, has a familiar date on its history: November 1. I’m quoting its construction period info: “Her keel was laid down on 1 November 1794 at Edmund Hartt's shipyard in Boston, Massachusetts under the supervision of Captain Samuel Nicholson and master shipwright Colonel George Claghorn.”

I didn’t read much about it since I’m already at edge with everything I’ve been researching but, it seems it was a very adored ship. In fact, one of the reasons it’s still in active service it’s because a poet even made it a famous poem about this ship, that you can read here. It’s symbolic and adored, it seems.

About the homonymous 1st Armored Division of the US Army, which badge Gerard used during the return show: being the first armored division of the U.S. Army to see battle in World War II, it also holds a huge historical meaning.

Again, I don’t have much info to share about this and I think some of you will find possible connections on this better than I would.

But wtf does it have to do with all the angels, Nana?

Well, as mentioned before, angels fight battles in the name of God. They’re heaven’s military. Michael, especially, is a warrior angel and leads God’s troupes against the demons.

Something interesting I’ve found relating Gabriel (which statue, let’s not forget, was commissioned by a war widow) to the war concept was the hebrew poem "Elifelet" (אליפלט) written by Nathan Alterman in 1958, often turned into music and played on the israeli radio. it tells of a heroic, self-sacrificing (hm…) israeli soldier being killed in battle. Upon the protagonist's death, the angel Gabriel descends to Earth, in order to comfort the spirit of the fallen hero and take him up to Heaven. It’s very touching, and you can read it here.

I’m not saying any particular work like this poem is relevant to MCR’s possible new concept. (let’s not be political here, but also be honest: Israel wars are a delicate matter to bring up). We’re solely working with symbolism and history. Please keep that in mind.

MCR has touched on war thematics before in many occasions (I will not mention all of them, as I believe that as a fandom, we’re aware of that, and we can help new fans to understand it if needed. This text is already TOO LONG). Maybe it’s time for them to talk about some conflicts again, literal or metaphorical? Let’s wait and see.

Oh, one last thing. There’s actually a whole another navy air test and evaluation squadron, the Antarctic Development Squadron Six (VXE-6 or ANTARCTIC DEVRON SIX, commonly referred to by its nickname, The Puckered Penguins). They’re based on California (lmao) and their motto is… Well, “Courage, Sacrifice, Devotion”. Uriel kinda left behind again, huh. I’m sorry sweetie.

Again, I apologize if this last section (or even the whole thing..haha…) looks far-fetched, but I just… had to take it out of my chest, sorta? Sorry.

That concludes our Archangel Theory. Thank you if you took your time to read through it all.

List of things to maybe expect in the future:

Something on Feb 1 / Feb 2

Two more angel statues, being them related to Uriel and Michael in some sort of way. I’ve tried to find any suitable matches but… there’s just too many, and as we’ve seen it may even not be officially claimed which angel is portrayed. So let’s wait and see.

More pagan symbolism?

Something about War??

Cryptid posts related to UK and paganism, January 17th and January 24th.

## EDIT (01/12): about new mcr cryptid posts...

If you’re following MCR new updates, as for now you’re aware of the United Kingdom Stuff going on... Interesting coincidences (or is it?) about those:

Both posts were made on the same day the lunar cicle changes. This month, the moon shows up a different form every friday, so maybe prepare you heart for January 17th and 24th. Also, I believe they’re using London time for the updates. in fact, the most recent post (the video with theban alphabet) was posted only 30 minutes after midnight in London. So I’m adding that to our list of things to expect in the future.

Also, someone at warner might be in trouble right now. the ig account for Warner Music Artistic Services (@wmas) posted a variation of the video posted by MCR, only a day later, featuring another order for the theban caracters, a slightly different UK flag (it was somehow merged with a picture? it’s difficult to tell), and a new frame that consists of a forest, similar to the one Gerard posted on his own instagram, and the one featured as background for the skeleton holding a witchcraft-related dagger photo from 2 weeks ago. Differently from the previous mcr video, which was silent, this one featured a sound, if my ears are not mistaken, a very dramatic C# note played on piano or organ (church instruments, huh. funny. but it could be worse, at least is not a G note...)

The video was labeled as LFG, that could mean a million of things. the most relevant ones, I believe, could be “Looking For A Group”, a classic D&D/RPG term (If I close my eyes long enough I can hear distant circus music playing in my head, for I have compared the four archangels to a holy RPG party weeks ago...)or “London Forest Gate”, a neighbourhood in London. please tell me if you have any ideas about what else it could mean, haha....

This video was deleted, but you can still find it around on twitter.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ll keep updating this post as more content is released. Keep running!

[xmalereader]

The Mandalorian X Eatherian Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Summary: Reader is from earth and stumbles upon the mandalorian, suddenly joining his adventures.

Warnings: Fluff, language

-

How they meet ;

-

It was finally Friday, Y/n was exhausted from classes and just wanted to get home and throw himself into bed, ignoring all of his calls and texts from hsi friends and just block out the world. It’s been a while since he’s last spoken to his parents, actually its been almost three years since he’s last spoken to them, he got lucky enough to still be in college before his parents cut him off, forcing him to work two jobs and late night shifts to earn the money he needed for his classes.

He doesn’t like it when others help him, it makes him feel weak at times but their are other times when he really wishes he could get some help. Just a little nudge is all he wanted.

Yet, here he is wandering around the woods in a black hoodie and dark jeans, he was wearing his favorite converse as he steps over some puddles and jumps over a few logs. After lessons he would take his usual walks in the woods, he enjoyed the smell of the trees and the after smell of rain. It relaxed him and brought him some good memories of his past, even though he was still trying to forget the bad ones. Y/n has his headphones on with music playing in the background, he tears off a branch from a tree and swings it around, finding a clean patch of mud he bends down to start drawing out random things that came into mind.

He was so focused on his drawing that he didn’t even notice a small like green creature approach him. The small creature stares at the young adult in curiosity, tilting his head to the side as his ears twitched, listening to the other hum and sing as he watched him draw in the mud. The small child slowly approaches and without thinking it reaches out to place its tiny hands on the mud in front of the adult male.

Y/n raised a brow in confusion at the strange small hand, looking up slowly his eyes widen. His eyes meet a pair of large black ones, panicking, he falls back on his bottom and quickly moves away from the creature. “What in the-“ before he began to ask himself questions he noticed the small green creature coo at him and giggle, his ears wiggling in excitement as he watched the others reaction.

“What the hell are you?” He asks softly and Sits himself up, he crawls over to the kid on all fours and looks at him up and down. “Hm, you are pretty cute.” He admits with a small smile, reaching out to take the child tiny hands into his own. Y/n didn’t seemed fazed by this, I mean he’s literally sitting in front of an unknown species that came form who knows where and its adorable as hell!!

“Whoa, easy...” Y/n whispered to the kid, it slowly finds its way in between his legs, sitting itself down on his lap and lets out a small squeak. Y/n chuckled at the kids little noises, he found them adorable to listen too. “Hate to sound rude or anything but where are you from?” He picks up the kid and removes him from his lap, setting him down in front of him and continue to exam him, hopping to find a hint of a known species.

As he reaches to touch the child’s ears he hears a mechanical voice say. “Get away from him!”

Y/n flinches in surprise and pulls his hand back, looking up to see a man, or what he hopes is a man, wearing an armor suit and helmet that covered his entire face. “I didn’t mean to touch him.” He quickly blurts out and stumbles to stand up.

The mandalorian held out his blaster towards the Earthian. He’s heard about these kinds of people and planet earth, he’s heard rumors going around that earth was a planet that was off limits to everyone, including the empire which surprised him the most. He’s heard the earth wasn’t allowed to be tracke doesn’t or put into their grids, no one had the audacity to visit earth but now that the empire was no longer around, who’s going to stop the mandalorian from trying to visit? The first night that he landed he made sure that he was quiet and unseen, he didn’t want to attract to many eyes and he was only going to be their for a short amount of time. He was simply going to check if their was anything that they could us for their next trip but of course, the kid suddenly decides to wander off without the mandalorian noticing. That damn kid always stuck next to him and now he suddenly decides to wander on his own? He spent hours searching for the kid only to find him interacting with an Earthian.

“I said get away from him.” His voice is full of venom, glaring under his helmet, he adjusts his blaster. The Earthian lets out a nervous laughter as he slowly stands up, “Look, I don’t want to cause trouble and neither should you so please, lower the gun, or whatever that thing is.” He held his hands up as if showing the mandalorian that he wasn’t going out hurt the kid.

The mandalorian steps forward and bends down to pick up the child, turning to look at the kid he frowns.”Womb rat.” He randomly says, earning a slight whimper in return from the kid.

Y/n was watching the two interact, taking this as his chance to make a run for it. He slowly takes a few steps back and glanced over his shoulder to find a quick way back home without causing any trouble and he also didn’t want to die, not yet. He takes another step backwards, “Don’t move.” He froze in place, hearing the mandalorian speak to him. Y/n turns to gaze at the man and bites his lip, “What is an Earthian like you doing out here?” The mandalorian asks in curiosity, he’s been staying in these woods for awhile now and he hasn’t seen any Earthians around which gave him the thought that Earthians hated the woods.

“Earthian?” Y/n raised a brow at the name he was given. “You’re not from around here are you?” He asks, ignoring the others question.

The mandalorian lowers down his blaster, “You Don’t know about us?”

“About us? About what?”

The mandalorian gave the Earthian a surprised look, everyone knew about earth and how it was forbidden to visit but he didn’t expect the Earthians to know nothing about them. “About the galaxy and other planets.” He responds.

Y/n could only give him a dumbfounded look, “I don’t think so, we only know that plants from Pluto to the sun so like,” he shrugs. “We don’t explore space as much since we aren’t that advanced.” Y/n lowers down his arms, noticing the other lower down its gun. “Look I don’t want to cause trouble, I was just walking around like usual and minding my own business until-“ he points over to the kid. “He randomly showed up, I didn’t hurt him, I may have touched his tiny hands but that’s it!” He quick says, defending himself before he could get himself killed by the strange guy.

The mandalorian holds the kid close under his arm, he gave the other a look before he puts away the blaster. “Your not from around here are you?” Y/n suddenly blurts out.

“And you don’t know anything about us.” He said back.

“Okay listen child, if you could explain to me everything in a better way then maybe I can help you or something.” His sass was showing as he leans against a tree with his arms crossed, a frown covering his face.

The mandalorian was taken back by the guys sudden sass, he felt offended when he was sudddnely called a ‘child’ when he wasn’t. “What exactly can you help me with? You earthlings are considered weak and scared.”

Y/n gasps, “For your information I am not weak nor afraid! I can help with things wether they are big or small I can do it!”

“Can You repair a ship?”

The other stutters once he was asked if he knew how to repair a ship. “W..what kind of ship?” The mandalorian lets out a deep sigh and turns around to head back towards his own ship, expecting Y/n to follow behind him as he carries the child back to their ship. Y/n follows close behind the strange man, he grips his shirt softly and looks around, his eyes landed on a large ship which caused his eyes to widen. “Holy shit—“ he breathes out in shock.

He examined the ship, walking around in circles, he gently touched the metal and breaths out a gasp. “Holy crap this is real, this is actually real.” He chuckled out. The mandalorian set done the child and allows him to roam around but close enough for him to see where he was gong. “Think you can fix it?”

“Fix it?” Y/n raised a brow. “Where ever your from, this thing probably has something that earth doesn’t have. I mean, Look at it!!” He held his arms out and gestured towards the large ass ship that he was standing next too. “I know a little bit about machinery and engineering but what you have here is nothing compared to earth, its like...different.” He shrugs and exams the side of the ship and ran his hand through some black liquid, “This isn’t fuel is it?” He question with a worried look on his face. The mandalorian sighs in disappointment, he was stuck on this planet for who knows how long. He has to get off of it and quick. “Can you try to repair it?” He ignores the others questions, he was desperate to get going.

Y/n bites his lip, glancing around before sighing as well. “I can try but I cant keep any promises that it’ll work well.” He warns and pulls out his phone to check the timing and his schedule. “Your lucky that I don’t have any classes tomorrow or else I would’ve spent the rest of my weekend watching movies.”

The mandalorian could only stare at him from under the helmet, confused by what the other was saying, he decides to ignore it and not question it. “Just get the material you need to fix it.”

“JUsT gEt tHe mAtErIaLs—“ Y/n mimics back with a slight tone of irritation. “Ill get you your damn materials.” He hissed back. The mandalorian glared back, this guy was slowly getting on his nerves. “Just do it.”

“Of course, sir.” Y/n puts his pone away and looks up at the sky, “It’s almost twilight, Best I get back home. I’ll come by early in the morning with the materials to fix your ship and then after that you can continue on with your journey or something.” He shrugs. “So do me a favor and keep yourself hidden because humans on this planet around so friendly with things they’ve never seen before, especially with the kid around. If anyone comes by and sees him, they wont hesitate to hurt him.” He explains in warning. Earth may seem peaceful but it was actually hell for Y/n.

People were getting killed everyday and wars were raging on everywhere and society was just getting worse. He feels a little envy towards the man, Y/n sighs while slipping his hands into his pockets. “Ill see you in the morning oh, and one last thing, what’s your name?” He asks.

The mandalorian was fixing up his bag that was sitting outside of the ship. “People call me Mando.”

“Seriously? Mando? You know if I’m going to be helping you then I might start calling you bob or something.” He cocks his head to the side. “Mando is fine, nothing more.”

“Whatever you say.” Y/n rubs his face and groans. “Anyways I’m gonna get going and you better take my advice also my name is Y/n in case you were wondering...bye now.” He waves goodbye and began to head back, following the trail that lead him to the main streets.

The mandalorian watched the other leave, he turns to speak to the kid. “Earthlings are very strange espically the way they talk.” He earns a small giggle in return from the kid.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shackled - Chapter 4

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME.

Warning: Implied loss of family, grieving, depression, cursing, Demon!Dean, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery, psychological manipulation, questioning one’s sanity, possible hallucinations

Word count: 1656

Author’s Note: @thoughtslikeaminefield​ and @cracksinthewalls​ really poked this chapter hard, and it’s much better because of it. Also got a thumbs up from @fangirlxwritesx67​ , which was the motivation I needed to get my act together and actually post. Alright, kids, buddy up and jump in! Shit’s gonna get freaky!

In case you missed it:

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

Chapter 4

Adept fingers probed at the scars on her neck, running over the snarled flesh before circling around to the smooth skin on the other side of her throat to check for injuries.

“It’s fine, Aaron, leave it,” Miriam mumbled, swatting at his hands without bothering to open her eyes. He always worried about her after a hunt, convinced she was hiding a myriad of wounds that she was too proud to tell him about. He’d been the medic of their little team, with gentle, competent skills that surprised everyone except Miriam.

She shivered in the chill air, then sighed contentedly as the blanket was pulled up around her shoulders.

Strong hands dug into the muscles where her neck met her shoulder, worked at the perpetual stress knot she’d formed there, and she groaned with relief. Sleeping against the wall had begun to give her a massive kink in her neck, and this was-

“Can't wait to sink my teeth in,” a voice growled next to her ear. “Gonna eat you up, sweetheart.”

Impossibly sharp teeth grazed her throat, and Miriam jerked awake with a silent scream.

Her eyes tore wildly around the hallway as she scrambled to her feet, drawing and cocking her gun without conscious thought. She listened hard, but there was nothing. No one was in the hallway to her right, so she ducked through the t-junction to her left, head swiveling sharply. The long passageway stretched in both directions, and though there were doors along both sides, she’d have heard someone opening one of them.

All of the doors were closed.

Still, her racing heart only began to calm when she slid her way cautiously into the storage room, pushed the shelves aside, and found Dean sitting exactly where she’d left him. Her lungs unlocked, and she let out a shaking, relieved breath.

He took in her disheveled appearance and flushed face, a satisfied smile stretching his lips wide.

“Sleep well?”

…

Two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal later, the tremors in Miriam’s hands finally stopped. She made her way back to her room after a quick glance at Dean, who’d stared silently right back, his expression a bland mask of indifference. She splashed some water on her face, brushed her teeth, and changed clothes all while managing to not look in the mirror. Minor miracle, but a welcome one, nonetheless.

She sat heavily on the end of her bed. Though her hands were no longer shaking, her head was almost vibrating with the force of the thoughts ricocheting around her skull.

The dream was so real. But so were most of her nightmares, usually replays of the night she lost Aaron. Then there was her massive reaction to Dean when she’d first walked into the dungeon.

Overreaction, she thought acidly, frowning.

What the hell was wrong with her? She knew better than to get that close to a monster, much less a demon. Much less a demon with the experience and skillset of Dean Winchester, backed by demonic strength and whatever else came standard.

But…

She should be repulsed by him. And she was. Terrified and repulsed and all the appropriate feelings towards something so evil, monstrous. It wasn’t as if she were trying to justify his existence. She felt no sympathy towards him, no kindness.

But she’d be lying if she said she felt no attraction.

Not sappy, romantic bullshit, she thought fiercely, her ragged fingernails digging into her palms.

Not physical, not exactly, although how she’d ever managed to miss that his face was sculpted like some sort of bygone Greek hero, and that voice…

But it wasn't even Dean’s physical attraction that drew her in. That strange mark on his arm came to mind for a moment, but, really, she’d felt it the second she’d walked into the dungeon, even before she’d laid eyes on him. And she was damned sure hadn’t felt it years ago when they first met.

Damned sure.

So what had changed between then and now? Well, Dean Winchester was a demon, for one. But what about a demonic presence would pull at her so? Surely not…

She pushed that thought aside, searching her brain for something, anything to explain why she was so...enthralled. What was different about her since the last time they’d met?

Who was she kidding? Even after a year, she was still in denial. Losing Aaron had changed everything for her, changed everything about her. The overwhelming grief and guilt, and then the smothering numbness that weighed her down, blotted out the sun. Overcast days, nightmares every night.

She was exhausted and shattered well before she’d even picked up the phone to answer Sam’s call.

She’d done her damndest in the last few months to shove down her emotions, pushed and ignored and insulated until anything more than dull existence was a system shock. The pull when she’d stepped into that dungeon, though…

Siren song. She was sailing straight towards the jagged rocks, and she didn’t honestly know if she had the strength to steer away. She wanted to help Sam...No, she needed to help Sam, to pay off at least some of the debt she owed the brothers, but…

Nothing good could possibly come from this.

Fuck me, she thought as her stomach twisted painfully. Confusion, pain, and grief washed over Miriam in a flood so intense all she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep like she hadn’t since she’d held Aaron’s mangled body in her arms, her blood mingling with his.

…

“It’s freedom,” Dean said.

Miriam sat against the wall next to the table, methodically cleaning her gun. She hadn’t used it since that last hunt with Aaron, and she’d been foolish to neglect the weapon for so long. She turned red-rimmed eyes in his direction, her hands silently continuing their work.

“You were wondering why I’d want to be a demon, why anyone would. It’s freedom from all that human bullshit. All the guilt, all the pain, all that worrying over fuck all.”

“Bet you still feel a little pain,” Miriam said, reaching towards the holy water.

She smirked when his lips drew back in a silent snarl. His eyes flashed black, and something bright and not-quite-painful flared in her chest.

“You should keep your eyes like that,” she said before she could stop herself.

His head snapped to the side, gaze sharp and focused, a wolf scenting prey. She swore silently. Half a day around this asshole and her verbal filter was shot to hell. She really had to get her act together. She was better than this.

She had to be.

Silence stretched between them to the point of snapping, Miriam staring hard into the burning darkness of his gaze. When her fingers began to shake, she hastily reassembled her weapon, gathering her tools into their zippered bag.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered defensively, not sure what exactly she was defending herself against. She stood, turning her back decisively on the demon, yet unable to make her feet move away.

“You know what I did all that time Sam was looking for me?” Dean asked suddenly.

She hesitated before turning to face him. The depths of his ebony eyes drawing her in once more, and this time, for just a few moments, she let them. She was bone-weary, so tired of battling herself, and for just a moment she admitted that she didn’t have the will to resist anymore.

Freedom.

She found herself standing inside the circle, almost toe-to-toe with the demon. If Dean were able to move, he could kick her or wrap a leg around her ankle and take her down. This was foolish, lethally so, and she knew better. But standing there, so close, she could easily reach out and-

And what?! Miriam asked herself fiercely, gathering herself to bolt. What the hell are you doing?!

“Sam searched for me for months, did all sorts of wicked things to find me, you wouldn’t even believe. And you know what I did while Sam beat his brains out, hunting for me? I drank. I fought. I fucked. I killed.”

He ground out every word precisely; tongue, lips, and teeth flashed in obscene emphasis around each syllable. How the hell did he manage to make the simple act of speaking so terribly profane?

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into her with the weight of scripture. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, balm against the agony of her inner turmoil.

“I did whatever the hell I wanted, and I didn’t give a fuck who was hurting, who was dying, what was right or wrong.”

Miriam took a step forward, hardly breathing, fighting herself every inch of the way. She had to leave the room, to get away, look away, shut him out somehow.

“I didn’t mourn my mommy and daddy. I didn’t miss one damned person I’ve lost. Didn’t think about ‘em for a second.”

Another step. Miriam’s hands pressed against Dean’s shoulders for support. She stood over him, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as her head spun. Though he stared up at her from his confines, they both knew he had the high ground.

“I don’t need my baby brother to cure me, darlin’.”

He held her gaze deliberately as he tilted his head to stroke his bristled cheek against the back of her hand. Miriam’s muscles clenched as fiery sensation swept through her body, searing every nerve down to its roots. He lowered his eyes just long enough to sweep a shockingly soft kiss across her knuckles with his sculpted, ungodly soft lips before turning his face up to hers.

He grinned, flashing a feral, perfect set of teeth she realized could easily reach her now.

“I am the cure.”

Miriam fled, and the echo of Dean’s words followed her every step of the way.

...

Chapter 5 is now up!

[moved-builtintripping]

Setleth AU: Weathering With You

CONTAINS SPOILERS, MENTIONED MATURE THEMES, AND A LONG READ!!

(While I’ll be assigning both Byleths in my preferred roles for them here, feel free to switch Beleth and Beles if it’s your cup of tea!!)

F!Byleth as Hodaka. 15 yrs. A highschool runaway from a rain-kissed island town who desperately seeks the shy sunlight in the city. Her life will forever change when she realizes that somebody dear to her is worth so much more than the hiding blue sky.

Seteth as Hina. ‘19’/16 yrs. His strict expression doesn’t best describe his identity as a sunshine boy. Values Flayn above all else until a certain somebody enters into (and saves) his life. Used to only clear the sky whenever his little sister excitedly asks for it.

Flayn as Nagi. 10 yrs. Lives alone with only her big brother. She seems to gain a sort of situation where most boys in her school would swoon over her charm, which she is unaware of (yet Seteth knows nothing about this). Becomes instant best friends with Byleth.

Jeralt as Suga-san/Keisuke. ?? yrs. Head of the J&A ‘news’ site (that will eventually grow into its own company). Compares Byleth (whom he hired) to his own child, who’s taken away from him by his mother-in-law. Still loves his dead wife dearly.

Leonie as Natsumi. 25 yrs. (post-timeskip design) Jeralt’s trusted and loyal apprentice and (surprisingly) niece. She’s currently job hunting, but her impatience is one factor why luck hadn’t been so kind to her. Would probably make an excellent speed cop.

M!Byleth as Moka. Jeralt’s son, who shares the same name and almost the exact same look as the girl his father hired. Despite the many phone calls they’ve shared, he still misses his father very much and wishes to see him everyday.

Cyril as Ame/Rain. A stray brown kitten who stares with his red eyes and bears a scar by the left side of his forehead. Adopted and cared by Byleth and eventually spoiled rotten by Jeralt.

Solon as Yasui. (Tomas looks) An aged and experienced police officer, who’s tasked to look for the missing highschooler and wielder of a lost gun around the flooding Tokyo.

Thales as Takai. A younger police officer who’s assigned to assist Yasui on their shared mission. Manages to get ahold of Byleth, but his grip on her had slipped more times than he hoped.

Kronya as the Dude who’s offering Hina the strip club job. (idk his name, rip) Harasses Seteth into offering him a job, a naughty one. Is stopped by Byleth and the warning shot she was threatened by her face.

Detail Changes!!

Not everything in the movie will be covered as I haven’t thought up some changes yet, especially the part when Keisuke’s child, Moka, was shown the first time and they all were just bonding. This should still be a lot already! Hopefully I can add some more and fix this eventually~

Byleth’s Yahoo!Answer username was ‘TheAshenDemon’

During her first days in Tokyo, she was silent the whole time, not even uttering a single word since she could just nod, shake her head, and bow, not even when Jeralt saved her from the crashing rainfall nearly slipping her away from the boat.

Jeralt thought he saw his own son in grave danger, so he jumped to action. He didn’t realized how panicked he must have looked until a blue-haired quiet girl (almost) blankly stared up at him. He tried to brush it off with a shrug, but he swore his heart was beating fast.

She pointed to Jeralt the beer vending machine, which she plans to give him one as an exchange for sparing her from death. Jeralt politely declines, yet she insists only to realize the price to be much higher than her budget. She bought one anyway. “I told you you didn’t have to, kid...” “*bows and sweat drops*”

During her stay around the city, Byleth had been hearing news about a killer who leaves their bloodied victims lying in alleyways, always sprouting knife wounds around different part of their body, plus they’re dismembered. Byleth didn’t know she would eventually encounter the said-killer herself.

The lost kitten Byleth found by the alleyway stared up at her, but not meowing. He hissed when she offered him some candies, but eventually he ate it gratefully. This was the first time a smile bloomed on Byleth’s face since arriving.

When she woke up from her unintentional slumber, Kronya (plus two more grinning men lingering by her side) were staring down at her. “What’re ya doing here, girlie? This is no place for a street rat like you, so I suggest ya scram… Unless you want to join the fun with me and the boys. *winks and licks lips*” “*fuCKIN SCRAMBLES UP AND RUN*”

When Seteth laid down the burger, Byleth was so shocked she stared with large eyes up at the strange kind worker above her for a long time. “… Stop staring at me. It’s going to get cold if you don’t eat that soon, and my money would go to waste.” “… *blinks*” “… Just… Eat it.*walks out*”

Byleth still hadn’t said anything, but she cried for the first time for not only satisfying her empty tummy after so long, but for also kindness to miraculously come her way in this cruel city.

During the bus ride to Jeralt’s place, she silently pitied Flayn several seats behind who’s obviously oblivious from the two young boys’ mission to capture her heart.

The moment Leonie wakes up, she thought Byleth to be a theif. As she shouted threats at the intruder (and shrieked at her for staring at her chest), Byleth nervously held up the business card Jeralt gave her.

When Leonie confirmed that Jeralt indeed invited the kid over, she quickly welcomed her with open arms as if she never shouted exactly a moment before. She introduced their home as the ‘holy sanctuary of the proud journalists’.

Leonie was clearly passionate as a J&A journalist, possibly much more than the head himself, to the point that she would insist on Byleth to read every single article they had ever written. “Alright, kiddo! What article was written on June 15, 2021??” “*shakes head in resignation with a tired look*” “SILLLY! It’s the first one you helped me out with!! The title is ‘The Magical Wonder of a Sunshine Girl’, which discusses about the blablabla--” “*cries inwardly*”

The second time Byleth sees Seteth, he was gripping his umbrella hard as he tried to quickly walk away from Kronya, who was following, cat-calling, and basically harassing him. Eventually she slyly offers him to ‘work’ with her with a promised high pay, which made Seteth abruptly halt on his tracks.

Byleth rescues Seteth from Kronya by pretending to be his girlfriend (Funnily enough, “HONEY~!” was her first ever word on Tokyo and also a foreshadowing of their future relationship). She then attempted to drag a spluttering Seteth away as she cooed, “Come on, sweetie~ We can’t miss the big day!” “B-b-b-but- I thought you’re mute-” “I said *grips Seteth’s arm too tight* Come. On.”

Infuriated for taking away her potential partner, Kronya whipped out a knife and charged at the two. Seteth instinctively grabbed Byleth’s hand and together, they ran.

They eventually reach a dead end, which Kronya took advantage of by literally jumping over the two, then pinning Byleth down. “Move a muscle and I’m going to cut your girlfriends’ throat.” “SH-SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND! AND LET GO OF HER!”

Byleth struggled to reverse their position and had been successful. She pointed the gun on Kronya and, as the rain poured, blasted a warning shot by her left ear.

When Seteth snapped out of reality, he grabbed Byleth up who was about to shoot Kronya’s forehead (whose left ear was slowly bleeding). “GET UP! GET UP! LET’S GET OUT OF HERE! WE HAVE A DATE, REMEMBER!?”

Once they retreated to the abandoned building, they argued. “Did you really think you should just- just interfere just like that!? You have a gun, for god’s sake! We’ll get in serious trouble for that, or worse go to jail!” “You ungrateful- I just saved your damn life like you saved mine-” “Plus sh-she’s a woman! We shouldn’t have been too harsh with her-”“Look, you can be a prostitute for all I care, but that woman was harassing you and that’s just wrong!” “You listen here very well: I am a grown man, and I make my own decisions!” “Yeah!? Decisions to get yourself killed by that murderer! Can’t you see she’s the recently wanted person who had been killing off men in the alleyways!?” “I…! You…! *growls and shoves towel at Byleth* *stomps away*”

Believing it to be useful, Byleth was about to pick up the gun she previously threw out of frustration, but Seteth’s voice interrupted her. “I thought about what you said, and you’re right. I’m sorry. What can I give you in return?” “Er… Your… Apology, I guess?” “That’s already given! I meant something else, more than that!” “... Hmm…”

Byleth spaced out. She couldn’t really think of anything she wanted other than... “I’d like for the sun to stick around, but *chuckles dryly* I know you can’t just magically clear the sky…” “… Actually…”

Byleth silently (and comically) screamed when Seteth prayed to draw the curtains of the clouds and make way for the blue sky and the sun to smile down on them.

This is the first time Seteth clears the sky for somebody else other than for his little sister, so he smiled. There, they shared each other’s names and age.

While trying to appear mature, Seteth awkwardly rambles about how he was old enough to make his own decisions and do adult things, basically justifying his consideration on Kronya’s offer.

“Seteth, that’s... That’s nothing to be ashamed of. There must somebody you want to protect. That’s why you’d go to lengths to commit acts like that.” “… How did you know??” “*shrugs*”

Ever since meeting Seteth, Byleth began to speak much more frequently than before, but was still overall silent. She only says more whenever she’s around her new friend.

Seteth cooked a seafood dish for his guest when Byleth visited to discuss about their new business. As Byleth observed around the house, she saw lots of cute objects such as the colored fish-shaped glass curtain. She assumed Seteth’s little sister had wanted it.

When Flayn arrived home, she beamed that finally, her big brother had made a friend! Meanwhile Byleth recognized her as the oblivious girl who had a lot of boys to answer to, so she awkwardly greeted Flayn back, who was shaking her hand too rapidly.

Flayn had been more than willing to wear the teru teru bozu mascot. Although Seteth secretly thought it looked adorable, he simply didn’t approve of it.

After their first successful job, Flayn in her mascot told Seteth, “Onii-sama, won’t you lighten up?? You’ve finally cleared the sky for all the people! Isn’t that amazing???” “F-Finally? Flayn, how could you just forget the joy of just the two of us sharing our secret…” “Stupid brother! You’re the sunshine boy here, and sunshine boys should smile just like the sun! Look at Byleth-nee! She would make the perfect sunshine girl had she got your magic instead!!”

“Byleth?” Seteth wondered out loud and looked at the said-girl a few strides ahead of them, who was grinning ear-to-ear as she admired the sun. He tried to observe her enthusiasm like Flayn suggested. He ended up mindlessly gazing at the girl even when Flayn was already demanding for his attention.

When Byleth found out that Seteth enjoys writing, she suggested him to try working for J&A to earn extra cash. “Hm… I suppose I can give it a chance... Yes, this will make a great opportunity indeed.”

When Seteth visited Byleth’s place and found out that their intention and business were all a fraud, he backed out. “This is scam! I cannot feature my literary works in a shady manner such as this!” “WHAT THE FUCK!? YOU’LL CONSIDER PROSTITUTION, BUT YOU WON’T DO THIS!?!?!?” “…Uh. Language...”

During the firework festival, while Byleth hadn’t bother to fix her hair, Seteth smoothed his as well as tied a tiny pony. He almost frowned at her messy hair the first time he saw her, but held back when he saw the businessman standing beside her (i mean can u just imagine the beauty of him wearing a kimono while byleth in a formal suit omg im crying kjasdhjkhas--)

“Mr. Jeralt.” “Yeah, kid?” “If I am to give you a present, what will you ask for?” “Hmm.... Let’s be perfectly honestly: a good ‘ol beer is all I needed to remedy my past sins... Unless you can bring my wife from the dead, then *smiles sadly* I’d appreciate that.”

When someone on Yahoo!Answer suggested (jokingly) to gift Seteth a ring for his birthday, Byleth turned to Flayn for advice instead as they began walking home together while the love-strucked boys waved her good-bye. “Well, Mother told me that you shouldn’t limit your choices of gift just because your friend was born with the body they have. For example, even when society isn’t entirely ready to accept it, there are men who enjoy wearing dresses!” “.... OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH, SENPAIIIIII”

The next day, Byleth spent the entire day checking on every corner of the nearest mall to find the perfect ring, only to return empty-handed, exhausted, and bummed out. When an oblivious and excited Leonie shoved one of their old magazine copies (back when they could still afford printing their issues) on Byleth, she retreated to her room for the older girl to leave her alone.

Still tired, she flipped one of the pages and saw an article about a ring that can boost the wearer’s creativity and motivation to write many promising stories with the help of jewel’s powers. (aka, the ring in canon) Amused but resigned, Byleth shrugged and decided.

Byleth spent a much longer time looking for the tiny shop, which only had one branch, than looking for ring in the said-shop itself.

Meanwhile, police officers Solon and Thales had captured Kronya. Both are interrogating the criminal for what exactly happened when the missing girl, the one both officials were looking for, threatened to shoot Kronya.

Leonie nearly punched Byleth for accidentally staring at her chest again as the she struggled to sink in the information that Jeralt and Leonie are related and absolutely not 'lovers’.

Byleth lend her jacket (aka, her cloak in canon) to Seteth when he was nearly whisked away by the wind.

When the police were questioning the runaway kids, Seteth tried to ward them off with a slight glare all the while remaining polite. “Our family will continue to worry if we remain longer in the rain, so if you will please let us carry on...”

“Happy Birthday, Seteth!” “*inwardly: OH MY GOD IT’S A RING IT’S A RING HOLY SHIT DOES SHE ACTUALLY WANNA-- NO NON ON  THAT CANNOT BE IT, THIS IS TOO SOON-*” “This ring is supposed to help you write good, boosts your creativity and all. Not that I believe it, nor care, but I hope you like it~” “.........................................................Oh.”

“I... *clears throat* Th-thank you. I-I appreciate it.” “What’s with that stupid look though? Did you really think it was a proposal? Seriously, no way. I doubt it... *lies down, stares at ceiling, blushes* Unless you wanna...” “W-W-WHAT!? NONSENSE!! AND EVEN IF IT IS, YOU AND I BOTH KNOW VERY WELL THAT WE ARE TOO YOUNG FOR- FOR THAT!!” “You don’t say, you old geezer ;)”

“But Byleth... What are you doing? Oh no. No, this cannot be. I was even fully prepared... But if you were to part me with a gift, I’m going to leave with regrets...” “Regrets? Leave? What’re you talking about?” “Don’t you understand!? Back when we were walking our way home and you saw my skin? Don’t you see- *shuffles for robe*” “OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU PERVERT!?” “*reveals chest, skin magically distorted* I’M DYING!” “...Huh?”

Like her first days in Tokyo, Byleth didn’t speak the entire time when she and Flayn were caught and escorted to the police car. When Thales mentioned Seteth’s real age to Byleth (16), Byleth shouted, “SIXTEEN!?” much to the police’s shock since they thought the girl was mute or refused to ever speak.

“*inwardly: ... Seteth, you damn liar.*”

Flayn’s borrowed disguise from her male friends was a cap, hoodie and baggy pants. “Flayn, I thought he was your ex! What’s he doing here stealing you away from me?” “Ex? Stealing? Whatever do you mean; I thought you two are wonderful friends! And please hurry up!”

“I’D MAKE AN EXCELLENT SPEED COP!!” “... No, you won’t.” “I HEARD THAT!!”

Jeralt always compared Byleth to his own son due to how dangerously similar they looked and acted. He tried not to see her as a sort of child to him since the girl was not his son at all. However, Jeralt does end up acting like a father-figure to her, especially when he saw Thales pin her down as she repeatedly and desperately shouted her loved one’s name. Who knew that quiet kid had it in her to fall in love, just like Jeralt himself?

As Flayn ran towards Solon to pin him down, her cap flew away and her hood fell to reveal her long green hair. “It’s not your fault, Byleth-nee... Neither of us has foreseen this... But I will always trust you no matter what... SO PLEASE! BRING MY DEAR BROTHER BACK!!”

While Seteth did jump to reach for Byleth out of instinct (and love, coughcough), he tried to pry away from her as they fell no matter how much she desperately confesses her love for him. “The people would no longer have sunshine! Isn’t that what everybody wants, you included!? It’s why we even made that business! It’s best I leave this world for all of your sake!!”

In her fury, Byleth reached out to Seteth with more effort than ever all the while muttering, “Come here- Come here you stupid old geezer--” When they finally held hands, she slapped him hard.

“DON’T YOU GET IT, YOU DUMB IDIOT!? FLAYN AND I DID NOT GOT ARRESTED, NARROWLY ESCAPED, HAD TO BE RESCUED BY LEONIE, RAN ALL THE WAY TO THAT BLASTED BUILDING, ALMOST STOPPED BY JERALT, AND NEARLY GOT SHOT BY FOUR DAMN PEOPLE TO RESCUE YOU FOR NOTHING! SETETH, I LOVE YOU!”

“*giggles* You look gross when you cry.” “Shut it, Byleth. Seriously, at a time like this... Let’s... Let’s just go home.” “Yeah...”

When Byleth returned to Tokyo, she had her hair dyed into light green since she felt like it (and reminded her of someone dear to her).

Jeralt happily showed Byleth the photo of Flayn (who barely grew an inch), his son Byleth (who’s almost reaching Flayn’s height), and Leonie, (wearing a cop’s uniform imean they should have seriously made natsumi a speed cop too, jeezus).

When she and Seteth reunited, his first words to her (other than, “Byleth!”) were, “Your hair...” “*grins* I know what you’re thinking, it doesn’t suit me.” “No, not at all. *touches Byleth’s hair with the hand wearing the ring* You look beautiful.” “*tries to pout, but melts into a winder grin* Not before?” “You always have been.”

Yay, it’s done!! I’ve had this AU for a long time now actually, but only got to post it now that the movie’s out on the west!! Now watch me ignore this shit for the next years, rip

Again, every detail in the movie isn’t covered here since I haven’t seen their potential setleth au differences yet, but the overall plot remains the same! Note that I haven’t actually finished the other routes yet other than the beagle one, so there might be a lotta ooc stuff here. Maybe when I’m done with them all, ima get back to this and fix it and add some more.

As you can see, I made their dynamic more on the teasing side unlike hodaka&hina’s, mainly because i interpret byleth to be playfully sly and ofc seteth’s distrust on her on the start of the game. I personally enjoyed them to be a bickering old couple, so they’re like that xD

Honestly, i’m torn in between assigning rhea as either the two green peas’ mother or jeralt’s mother-in-law. the former for obvious reasons, the latter since rhea sorts of ‘hides’ away the little kid from jeralt like in canon, but for another reason.

As for the taki and mitsuha cameo, I feel like that would be a completely different thing, so I didn’t include them here. But for sometime now, I’ve been imagining them as ferdinand & dorothea, manuela being their okudera. but this au isn’t house biased (leonie’s there cause of jeralt), so i didn’t include them.

Huge thanks to my sister for helping me shape this au!! Actually half of these ideas belongs to her, even more perhaps. Hope I can link ya’ll to her accounts once she’s done fixing ‘em so ya’ll get see how much of a genius she is!! <3

I wanna make a manga/fanfic outta this one day, but for now, here’s the idea compilation of my setleth au nobody asked for!! Thank you for reading!! :D