#and misunderstands their concern about housing a human and the trouble that can bring

[naffeclipse]

aww fairy au sounds cute! would they be, tiny boi fairys, or human sized fairys?

Human size! The idea is that you accidentally enter through a fairy circle into the land of fairies. You end up eaten some wild mushrooms that don't look poisonous, but whoops, you've just eaten fae food and now you're trapped in this realm. Thankfully a helpful but strange fae being with butterfly wings finds you before you can encounter any deadly sorcery or ill-wishing fae and offers his and his brothers' home for you to crash at until you figure out how to break your curse and return home! Although, maybe you'll find you don't really want to go back home after spending so much time with these handsome fae brothers, but it's still a dangerous place for a non magical being such as yourself.

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 6: Avatar

“How do you stand it?” asked Estinien with a small growl in his voice.

“Stand what?” replied Aymeric curiously, unsure what he could possibly withstand.

“Having Dia in your house. Ever since I joined the Scions, she’s been a nuisance. I’ve not known peace. I’ll be on my own trying to eat, and she’ll appear from nowhere to sit down and interrogate me.”

The two engaged in a long overdue chat, borne from a request made by the Lord Commander to both Estinien (“Please, remember to stop by Ishgard sometime, old friend. I would certainly welcome a bit of catching up” Aymeric asked once upon a time) and Tataru (“I somehow doubt he’ll stop by Ishgard. Could I trouble you for an occassional update as you also provide for Dia?”) As an old friend, and one of the Scion’s most generous financial and supply contributors, she was more than happy to oblige, and even conspire to make him see the good Lord Speaker.

“The man will drown me in questions”, complained Estinien at the time.

“Who wouldn’t?!” Tataru countered, “It’s important to him, and as he’s a backer of the Scions, I would much rather keep him happy! Don’t you want to at least see your oldest friend again?”

And so he did. And so he found himself in the parlor of Borel Manor sipping on tea, sans birch syrup for the dragoon.

“How is she interrogating you?” Aymeric inquired.

“She’ll badger me with questions about the meal I’m eating and how my day is going, and make all sorts of strange quips. I don’t understand why either. She wasn’t like this when the four of us entreated Hraesvelgr, or even recently when we freed Tiamat and fought the lunar primals.”

Aymeric set his tea down on the table. “My friend, having experienced real interrogation, I believe you’re being rather dramatic.”

Estinien brought his gaze to his lap, rather embarrassed at the idea that he managed somehow to forget Aymeric’s ordeal at the Vault. It was never far from his mind, however. The image of his closest friend battered and bruised and the image of the knight who dared to protect Dia impaled by a spear of light haunted him every now and again.

“…perhaps a better choice of words was in order. Forgive me”, said Estinien meekly.

Aymeric released a sigh through his nose. “I can find it in my heart to forgive you…if you give Dia a chance. She’s not herself at work, and she’s trying to be herself with you, and engaging you in the longstanding pasttime of ‘welcoming you to a new place’ is a part of it.”

“How do you mean ‘at work’?”

“The Scions are as much employment as they are her second family. She’s rather singleminded in her focus when it comes to her assignments given by them. When no work is to be found with the Scions, it’s a very different story. ‘Twas much the same with the two of us once, and clearly, you’ve only ever engaged with her when she was working.”

Estinien harumphed and said, “Bollocks. You don’t become a different person just because you have a task at hand.”

“Really? Because I’ve watched you do just that.”

Estinien growled, but accepted defeat. He was right, after all. “Fine. I just don’t understand how she can be that chummy with the lot of us, then.”

“As I understand it, that group went through a rather harrowing experience together, a change from usually sending Dia into the harrowing experience alone.” Estinien couldn’t help but notice a tinge of resentment in his friend’s remark. Regardless, he responded, “From the meetings I’ve been dragged into, ‘harrowing’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. The woman’s inhuman, Aymeric. No one could have survived what she did, yet she’s still here. I simply don’t understand why, and she refuses to explain.”

“Have you asked?”

“Yes, more than once. She simply doesn’t go into detail beyond what I’m sure you already know.”

Dia explained most of what transpired on the First to him after her official return when she managed to awaken the Scions. He was sure there was some sensitive information for Scion ears only that he couldn’t be privy to, but what was it that not even Estinien could know?

“And the other Scions know naught?”

“They mentioned that a wayward soul aligned with hers.” Ardbert, Aymeric thought.

“I’m well aware of Ardbert.”

“Ardbert?” Estinien shot back quizically.

“Aye, the Warrior of Darkness.”

“What in hells is she doing with a Warrior of Darkness in her soul?”

“Did they truly not discuss this in those meetings of yours?”

“Wasn’t exactly a topic of focus.”

“Fair enough”, Aymeric conceded, “At any rate, she’s incredible, is she not?”

“I’m still concerned she’s not saying everything she needs to say.”

“Hm, surviving impossible situations, refusing to discuss certain matters outright and going to great measures to avoid a conversation she does not wish to be a part of? Who could do such things, I wonder?” Aymeric faked consideration, enjoying teasing the dragoon.

“You’ve made your point”, Estinien sternly fired back, “I just wish she’d tell me what that bloody crystal does.”

“Crystal?”

Estinien raised his eyebrows at the question. “Have you not seen it?”

“No, I haven’t. What crystal?”

“There’s this strange yellow crystal that I caught her fiddling with, and when I asked about it, she hastily put it away and ran off.”

That concerned Aymeric, to say the least. What was she doing not telling him something? Not telling the Scions something?

“I’m telling you, something is off with the woman. Clutching crystals, carrying warriors of darkness in her soul- I don’t like it, Aymeric. Something’s wrong.”

Aymeric stayed silent. He was pondering just what she could be hiding. What piece was he missing?

“Speaking of, didn’t you say she’d be joining us?”

“She should have been here by now, yes. Why don’t I try contacting her? I’m sure she just landed herself into becoming a helping hand, as is her wont.”

In fact, Dia was hiding in the hallway near the parlor during that whole conversation. At first, she just wanted to leave the two of them alone for a bit, see how they’d do before she would walk in. Then, they started talking about her. They were going to demand answers, answers she couldn’t bring herself to give.

They were going to leave her once they found out, she just knew it.

She felt exactly one thing, and that was a desperate need to flee, escape from the hall before they could ask anything. She would leave them before they could leave her. Quickly, she teleported from the hall to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona.

“Did you hear that?” Aymeric inquired.

“I did, aye. Did someone teleport in?”

Aymeric stepped towards the hall quickly to investigate the sound of a teleportation spell. No one was in the hall.

“Maybe I misunderstand, but it could be that someone teleported out rather than in.”

“…that wasn’t her, was it?” Estinien hypothesized cautiously.

“I’m…unsure.” Aymeric put a hand on the linkpearl and attempted to contact her.

Nothing.

After another attempt brought no change, he decided to resort to the best person hunter in Eorzea: Tataru Taru. As she wasn’t available on his linkpearl, this required an in-person visit.

“I hate to cut this short, as I was the one who bid you come, but—“

“No need to apologize. I’ll come with you.”

The two teleported to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona and entered the Rising Stones proper.

“Oh, welcome, Lord Commander! And welcome back, Estinien. Did you two enjoy tea?” greeted Tataru cheerfully.

“Aye, for a while,” answered Estinien, “but I’m afraid we have a problem now.”

“Oh?”

Trying to hide his worry, Aymeric asked, “Did Dia come by here, per chance?”

Tataru shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since our meeting yesterday. I thought she was with you.”

“She was, but she had left the house earlier before he arrived to handle some leves, and promised to be back in time for tea. She didn’t come. I contacted her only to have my calls ignored.”

Tataru’s eyes widened.

“I’m telling you, it’s that hells-damned crystal and that Ardbert you mentioned” Estinien accused, “What else could make her act like this?”

“Crystal?” Tataru inquired.

“We can worry about the crystal later”, Aymeric responded, “Our first concern should be discerning her location.”

“Maybe you two should return to Ishgard, ask around and see if anyone’s seen her. I can send Hoary to ask around Mor Dhona and make sure she didn’t come by here”, proposed the lalafell.

“Not a bad idea”, replied Estinien. The two elezen teleported back to Ishgard, ready to begin a search. “I’ll take care of the asking, Aymeric. You should be there in case she comes back.”

“Estinien-“

“That wasn’t a request, Aymeric. Go home.”

*********************

They would get nowhere. They would never get to where she went.

Dia found herself in the Crystarium. The people happily greeted her as she walked through the settlement, but she could only return half-hearted sentiments. She was a bit distracted, after all. She settled on the Pendants as it offered peace and quiet while still fully assuring that no one would be able to contact her by linkpearl. The innkeeper led her to her old room, exactly as she had left it, minus the half-eaten food and Ardbert’s wandering spirit interrupting her respite.

She sat down on the bed, unsure what to make of what happened, of what she heard, of what Estinien was truly thinking. It was one thing that he was a bit grouchy about the way she would tease him when she was there. It was another thing to accuse her of becoming something completely different, of being inhuman. She’s not a monster, after all.

…right?

“I’m not a monster”, she said to herself, trying to convince herself that she was, in fact, as human as the rest. But that doubt still lingered. Beq Lugg said her soul was the densest soul she’d ever seen. Why would Emet-Selch have bothered if she were simply another “inferior being” as he put it? Where did Azem end and Dia begin? Was there ever truly a Dia? Was she technically Ardbert as well if that were the case? She flung her head into her hands, unsure what to make of any of it.

“You’re going to have to go back, you know.”

Ardbert’s voice rang through her head.

“Oh, what do you know?” she retorted to her eighth part.

“I was there. Whether you like it or not, I do see some things.”

“Try to see less, will you?”

“Would that I could.”

She sighed. “I’m well aware that I need to go back. I’m sure eventually, Aymeric is going to become concerned about how long I’ve been gone, as will the other Scions.”

“So what are we doing here, then?”

“You know what we’re doing here.”

“Ah yes, a completely rational, logical decision that only came after you gave it complete consideration and immeasurable forethought.”

She scowled at his disembodied voice. “Sarcasm is ill-becoming of dead men.”

“Good thing I live in you now. You have enough sass for two.”

She groaned, “What in hells do I tell them?” She put on a very saccharine, pleasant tone. ‘Hey, by the way, I’m eight parts of an amaurotine that was on the same council as Elidibus, Emet-Selch, Lahabrea, and all those lovely other people we’ve met that hurt all of you one way or another. I might have even been best friends with Emet-Selch, but don’t worry, I’m NOT an Ascian. I was one of good ones!’”

“Perfect, you already know your lines.”

“I’m not telling them that! That’s absurd!”

“What’s absurd is crossing time and space to avoid a conversation.”

She threw herself back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They hurt so many people, Ardbert. What would they think if I told them I was an ally?”

“I think somehow, they’ll figure out that you are two different people.”

“How can they figure that out when I’m not too sure myself?” Dia asked through tears.

“Simple. They wouldn’t give a damn.”

“How do you know?”

“Azem didn’t join them in summoning Zodiark and you didn’t actively try to kill them.”

Dia stayed silent for a moment. “Are we who we say we are, Ardbert?”

“We need to make a distinction here. I see Azem as a person who lived in the time of the ancients and served in their government. I see an ascian as a back-stabbing piece of amaro shite who serves Zodiark. Now other than that big gaping hole you left in Hades, you’ve never been a backstabber, nor are you amaro shite, and unless there’s been a massive change of heart that I’m unaware of, you definitely do not serve Zodiark. Now what do you think?”

She lied still, trying to take in the feeling of the bright linen beneath her fingers, the solidity of the ground beneath her boots, the smell in the air like fresh laundry and cookies. Slowly, she started pointing out the bricks on the ceiling and counting them. She lost her grip on reality, and Ardbert was helping with her return.

“I think I need to tell Aymeric at least.”

“If it gets us back to the Source, I’m all for it.”

She sat up once again, still barely tethered to her reality. This isn’t the first time she’s had an attack like this. Usually, they’re smaller, and happen when she tries to sleep, the result being nothing more than a simple jolt upward in her bed. When that meant her bed in Dawn’s Respite, she would get up and handle other business as she could to tire herself out. In Borel Manor, it was a much quicker process, in which Aymeric would quickly join her and calm her down, holding her until she fell asleep again.

He didn’t mind because she does the same for him.

As she slowly regained her composure, an incredible wash of embarrassment covered her.

“Did you imagine you’d be dating someone when you joined your soul with mine, Ardbert?”

“The thought crossed my mind. You talked about him endlessly. A man that looks like that? I could certainly think of worse prices to pay in exchange for saving my world.”

Dia chuckled.

“You could do far worse, anyways. I’m glad this Aymeric fellow’s pretty decent.”

“Yeah, me too.”

*********************

The hours had passed. The midday that let the two men enjoy their tea earlier gave way to twilight. Aymeric sat at the settee, doing anything to get his mind off of his missing Dia. Today was an off-day, yet there he sat with paperwork at the coffee table, trying to drown himself under amendments and statutes and arguments for the coming days. It did little to assuage worries, and may have even exacerbated them, but it was something to move his mind away from it.

“THE BLEEDING FIRST!”

The roar of the Azure Dragoon shook the foundation. Aymeric shot up and hurried towards the hall.

“My lord, you have a visitor”, announced the steward in a very tired voice.

“Thank you, Angelbert.” Estinien arrived at the doorway of the parlor.

“SHE WENT THROUGH THE BLEEDING RIFT AND NOW SHE’S IN THE GODSDAMNED FIRST!”

“Estinien, calm down! Where did you hear that?!”

“Tataru called me! Apparently, Hoary had a witness tell him she went east of the aetheryte, and the Sons of Saint Coinach confirmed it!”

Aymeric, stunned by the revelation, moved to sit down.

“You all right?” Estinien checked.

“So she just…left Hydaelyn entirely?”

“From the sounds of it.”

“And…no one else can get her?”

“She’s the only bloody person capable of traveling through the rift unscathed.”

He did nothing. He couldn’t do anything. If he looked at his work anymore, his brain would simply shatter. She went back to the First, of all places. Why the First? Why did she leave? What isn’t she telling him?

As if Halone had heard his thoughts, he heard a door close, and muffled behind the walls were the words, “Ah, there you are!” from the mouth of Angelbert. Footsteps drew closer to their location until finally, her appearance graced the doorway and Dia met her gaze with Aymeric’s.

“YOU!” Estinien shouted with the force of the Fury behind his voice. He marched towards the Warrior of Light and stared her down. “Do you know what kind of trouble you caused?! You made Tataru send out a Scion after you! You made me question all of godsdamn Ishgard before we found out you went off to the First! We couldn’t contact you! What in the seven hells were you thinking?!”

“ESTINIEN!”

Aymeric rarely yelled. Yelling was not his personal go-to outside of the battlefield. In his experience, yelling did nothing but fray emotions further. Sometimes, however, it was necessary.

Particularly now, as he didn’t want his friend screaming in his girlfriend’s face anymore.

Estinien turned around, still a little shocked to hear him yell like that.

“Please go. I wish to have a word alone with her.”

“But—“

“I will take care of this! Leave!”

With a blink, and a scowl towards Dia and her behavior, he eventually stomped off to return to the Rising Stones. Dia turned to Aymeric and asked meekly, “Are you going to yell at me too?”

“No. I will not yell at you.” He kept his voice calm despite a sea of anguish that brewed beneath him.

“Are you sure? You deserve it. I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“Even if I wanted to, where would we be if I hurt you back? All I want is an answer.”

Dia reached into her inventory, and pulled out something that glinted from the light of the fireplace. A small yellow crystal revealed itself in the palm of her hand. She stepped towards him and offered it for his inspection. Curiously, he took it and gave it a look.

“There. That’s what I’ve been hiding. Not even the Scions know what it does. I pray they don’t find out either.”

To him, it felt strange holding the chunk of crystal. There was definitely something strange about it, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He met her gaze, and asked “Why?”

She sighed, and said, “Aymeric, you know me well enough to understand that trust isn’t easily given by me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stop herself from losing her tether to reality once more. “I trust you. I wholeheartedly, unambiguously trust you. I tell you this for two reasons: one, because I want to tell you something that I need you to swear you’ll never speak a word of to anyone, not even Estinien.”

He nodded. She took a deep breath.

“That crystal holds my memories as an ancient, as well as a power I once held in that life that helped me escape from Elidibus’ clutches when I fought him.” He shot his gaze back at the crystal, as if it could tell him that she was joking, or lying. It said nothing. He returned his wandering eye back to her.

“Much like Lahabrea, Elidibus, and Emet-Selch, I was a member of their Convocation of Fourteen when I was whole, before that world became fourteen shards. I held the title of Azem.”

Before he could say anything, she had moved on. “Azem opposed the summoning of Zodiark and gave up their seat. Or I did. I think of all the things about this, that’s the worst part. I’m not sure where Azem ends and Dia begins, or if I ever truly was Dia for that matter. At any rate, that means that I once filled their ranks, and the ascians, including the one that corrupted the Archbishop, once considered me a…friend.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. He wasn’t sure if he cared. Azem was of a time well before him. Her past life was not what he cared about, but the life that stood before him now. The one to whom he owed so much, to whom everyone in Eorzea owed so much. The one that loved him, the one that he loved.

“That’s…a lot…”

“There’s a second reason I told you that I trust you. And that’s because I just broke your trust, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry I did. I stupidly thought if you knew, Aymeric, you’d leave, and so would the others. I panicked, and-“

“That’s why.” He interrupted, something rather unlike him, but he felt it was his job to stop spirals before they could begin. “You overheard Estinien, didn’t you? We heard the sound of teleportation in the hall.” She nodded.

“Look, what you once were in millenia past is of no importance to me. You joined ranks with ascians in a time long past, but you are most assuredly not an ascian.” He placed his hands on her shoulders calmly. “You are Dia Sito, no matter what anyone says. You are my partner, you are a scholar, a master culinarian, a weaver with skills second to none, and so much more to so many. You have defined Dia Sito to all of us. None would know of you as Azem, regardless of what you were told on the First. You, Dia Sito, are not an ascian, have not conspired with ascians, and have no plans to serve Zodiark…unless there’s another thing you have refrained from mentioning.”

She let out a laugh through her nose. “No, that’s about it on secrets.”

“Good. Now come, sit down.” He gently kissed her forehead and guided her to the settee with an arm around her shoulder. “I also need you to understand that your past life having engaged with paragons is not sufficient grounds for me to leave. I’m not going anywhere.”

She took a good look at him, and he at her, before the two leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I owe Estinien an apology as well, don’t I?”

“Perhaps, but I believe he owes you one as well. Go at your own pace, Dia.”

“I will. I can’t say I won’t be walking into a death trap the minute I walk into the Rising Stones.”

“You fear Estinien will have a second wind?”

“No, that Tataru will have a first wind.” He chuckled. “Estinien is nothing compared to the wrath of Tataru Taru”, she said, meaning every word behind it.

“I imagine the lot of them might have something to say of this.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” she stood up, “I should probably—“ He grabbed her wrist gently, and told her with a smile, “They can wait.”

“I need to tell at least one of them that I’ve come back.”

“You do have a linkpearl. I would recommend contacting the one least likely to enter into hysterics.”

Alphinaud, she thought.

“Very well.” She sat back down next to him, and placed a hand on her linkpearl.

“This is Alphinaud.”

“Hi, Alphinaud, it’s Dia.”

“Dia! Thank the Twelve! Hoary said you’d run off to the First. What happened? Are you quite all right?”

“Am I alive and kicking? Yes. Am I all right? I’ll need a minute to get back to you on that.”

Alphinaud sighed in relief. That was Dia all right.

“I’m surprised, Alphinaud. Was Estinien not in a tirade upon his return to the Rising Stones?”

“He slammed the door behind him on his way into Dawn’s Respite, but that’s nothing too unusual. We tried to ask him of your return, but he ignored us. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, let’s just say he and I didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries when he saw I came back.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, I’ll return to explain myself tomorrow. I just wanted to let someone over there know I’m in the Source and in Borel Manor.”

“Mm, I understand why you came to me now. Very well, I shall disseminate word of your arrival to our comrades. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course. Thank you for not shouting at me.”

He giggled. “Any time.”

“Good night.”

Little did she know that the minute Alphinaud exclaimed her name, all the Scions except for Estinien gathered to listen to the call.

“I feel better, I think”, Dia told Aymeric.

“Very good”, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry for ruining your tea.”

“Think nothing of it. We’ll have more where that came from.”

She gave a rather sad smile. “Stop being so good about this. I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve anything I could ever give. I only wish my love were enough.”

“It’s more than enough, it’s more than I’m even worthy of, my dear.”

For a moment, there was a flash. A black robe covering her arm, a black mask in her hand, and a different room appeared before her. As she turned her head, a familiar face that Dia never met before looked back to her with a wry smile on his face. In that same moment, it returned to the soft and gentle smile of Aymeric de Borel, with blue eyes shimmering as he looked into her soul itself, it seemed. She didn’t even realize until that moment that she clutched Azem’s crystal like her life depended on it. She released it quickly, not wanting it’s influence at that moment.

“I’m so tired”, she said, swallowing tears.

“I know.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t.” He reached around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“I’m so lost”, she said, the tears releasing.

“Then I’ll help you find your way.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

She had nothing more to say. Only sobs came from her. Azem weighed too heavy, and she only held eight parts. Dia lost her tether after that flashback. Aymeric had a rope for her to use instead to pull her back. She felt his heartbeat, his breathing, his warmth, the fabric of his shirt, of the settee, then tried to count the symbols that made up his wallpaper through tear-soaked eyes. Slowly, she regained control of her breath, the sobs reigned in, and the tears less poured out and more trickled. It helped that he was there to gently rub her back. It was soothing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, my love.”

She took the crystal and placed it on the coffee table to avoid the risk of clutching it once again. Now that he knew, she had no need to hide it on her person.

“May I ask why you carry it then? If it burdens you so, it seems imprudent to keep it on.”

She shook her head. “For whatever feelings I have about the ascians, about the whole of Amaurot…that is a part of me. It feels wrong to keep it away.”

“Such is the burden of knowledge, is it not?”

“Now that it’s there, I can never truly remove it. I would rather try and learn from it as much as I can. I feel I owe it to them.”

“To the ascians?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, to Amaurot, and to history. I’d be a terrible scholar if I didn’t try.”

He let out a light laugh, and looked to her. “Even the best of scholars need a break from their tomes.”

“I know. So I’ll lay it there for now.” She let out a scoff of her own. “‘Tis strange, I feel as though I might as well have said, ‘I’ll lay my arm here.’”

“It’s that affixed to you?”

“To an extent. That is me after all.”

“In an incredibly detached sense, yes. Mayhap you should leave it alone for a while. Return to it another time.”

She let out a long breath through her nose while she stared at it. Aymeric took the crystal in his hand, feeling the strange sensation once more, and stood up. “If it’s quite all right with you, I’d like to place it in a drawer upstairs. When the time comes that you need it again, you’ll be able to access it with ease.”

As attached to it as she became, he was right. It did no good for her to obsess over it. She nodded, stood up and followed him upstairs.

Everything that made up Azem sat in a drawer in the master bedroom for quite some time. Dia still felt conflict in her soul, but it did much to separate her from further flashbacks and keep her grounded in the world as it is now. Amaurot, the Convocation, the Final Days, they laid idly by as Eorzea, the Scions, the Grand Company of Eorzea, and the looming threat of Fandaniel and his own machinations took priority. Of all times for her to place the crystal aside, it was when the knowledge was needed most. If she didn’t, however, the knowledge threatened to consume her. No, it was for the best. It needed to be away from her ever-growing curiosity.

That is, until the time came that she could no longer sit by in Eorzea. The crystal saw light once more and took it’s place with Dia when the world needed her.

[trulycertain]

The WIP Post

After months of being on orig, I’ve been playing with the odd fic idea... and both are for Eurojank RPGs that about five people actually played. Oops?

Idea one: Vampyr AU where Jonathan joins Priwen as a combat medic post-killing Mary - because they seem to have a bunch of information about vampires, and as a passive means of suicide because he hates himself.

Idea two: Greedfall, post-canon De Sardet/Vasco AU. To be more specific, the "there's a bunch of pining and the romance doesn't happen until post-canon when De Sardet is completely done with Tír Fradí and Vasco takes her on holiday with him on a routine cargo run to one of the Naut isles, where he has to go to get confirmation of rank and his commander's tatts" AU.

Er... extracts from both follow. Warnings for barely-there prose while I brush things into shape, and vasriable character voices while I learn.

Probably-unnamed Vampyr AU

“Sir. Someone... asked to join us, sir.”

McCullum looks up from scribbling a report on the events of Tuesday’s dismal patrol. “It’s late for it. You checked them?” They know he’ll do it himself again, it’d be nothing more than damn stupid to invite a leech to warm themselves by your hearth, but it’s good to get them into the habit. Small oversights get you killed.

“Yes, sir.” It’s Perkins, who’s still a little green round the edges but is shaping up well. Even if the hat’s too small for his ears, and he’s panting as if he’s run ahead.

He nods. “They old enough?”

“It’s… a gentleman, sir. Says he’s a doctor.”

And he looks up at doctor, unable to help himself, and brings the pen back to the inkwell. Old Len’s, well, old. Tired, and nothing more than a temporary medic made to throw bandages on wounds, splash it with brandy and hope for the best. It doesn’t mean he’ll take the offer, but it’s something. “Well, then. Show the man in.”

They do it the Priwen way. Perhaps if there were daylight shining through the windows, they’d be a damn sight friendlier.

The stranger’s steps are slow, and his hands are raised, but... even with three swords and five pistols on him, he doesn’t flinch. He’s either calm, or suicidal. (Or he thinks he can destroy the lot of them in a minute, with blood and shadow.) He looks right past the wheel of death around him and watches McCullum levelly, sharp-eyed over the guards’ shoulders. Not that that’d be hard for him. He’s tall, even by McCullum’s reasonable standards; dark, with a frock coat that makes him look like a hearse driver and might have been quite fine, once. And the beard says it’s been a long journey back, but he’s kept the short-back-and-sides that speaks of the front. And that pale, haunted look.

He just raises a brow and says, after a pause so significant you could use it as tar: “Good evening.” And evening is putting it mildly, they’re in the back end of night and about to head into morning. Still, politeness, other than yes-sir no-sir brothers-let-us-eat, is always interesting to find. Especially when a man’s treating this much weaponry like it’s just a faux pas at some tea party.

“You look like it’s been a long night, sir,” McCullum says, keeping his voice airy even while he has his eyes on the three men he could command to shoot, allowing the sarcasm to drop into sir.  He’s tired, and there’s a reason Priwen doesn’t get many midnight visitors in one of the rougher parts of the district. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had the ‘flu.” They wouldn’t have even let a stranger in the door, if they’d thought so. Or if he’d seemed like a leech.

Their visitor says, “Seeing as half the doctors in London still struggle to make a diagnosis, I’d like to see your notes.” It’s testy, and there’s a certain weariness in it that’s familiar from every time McCullum’s had a nurse or a doctor sigh or cluck over him. It makes his people – butcher’s sons and drivers, to a one – fidget, with the urgency of old, know your place instincts.

McCullum’s never had much time for that sort of thing. He raises a brow. “You’d know, then?”

The stranger grimaces, rubbing at his forehead, and for a moment that cut-glass primness cracks. “I’m… sorry, there have been a few too many night shifts.” The stranger looks away, swiftly, and something wistful crosses his face. Then it’s clamped down again, under all that English, officer reserve. “I practised here, and at the front. In fact, that’s why I’m here. To offer my services, if I may.” He hesitates and shifts forwards and just for a moment, he looks like he might offer his hand, too – as if interviewing for a position. That shouldn’t be so comical as it is.

“With Priwen? Why the hell would you do that?”

He’s got an accent that says the Brotherhood, not Priwen. He’s tall, with that straight-backed, confident-toff posture that time overseas has probably only worsened. And he looks like he’s about to drop. McCullum’s seen staff at the Pembroke scurrying home from their rounds, and they’ve looked better.

The hint of a sigh, like this is all some ridiculous game to him, and the doctor raises his hand to his collar. At least twelve hands twitch on blade-hilts and triggers, but McCullum raises a palm and they respect him enough to stop. The doctor looks around, sharp-eyed, and then nods with a prim schoolteacher’s relief that they’ve come to their senses. He unbuttons his collar, and tugs it aside.

So that’s why - and now McCullum has to tug hard on the guards’ respect and pull them back like they’re dogs at a bone. Even the doctor seems startled at the ferocity of their response, though he hides it fast under the tightening of his jaw. Probably angry at themselves for even letting him get this far. He’s angry they didn’t check the obvious, just left it at the eyes and the pulse.

There are two holes just by the throat – not the usual neatness one’d expect, but a little jagged, as if someone – as if the good doctor – fought back with a vengeance.

“It damn near killed me,” the doctor says, quietly. “And my sister...” He chokes on that and looks like he’s had a swift kick, before he recovers himself. McCullum understands that well enough. “Believe me, I have no fondness for whatever did this.” Softer, now: “And I need to understand why. Before more people are...” He swallows, thinks better of what he was probably about to say. “...harmed.”

His eyes are wide and troubled, but the resigned sort of troubled, not the wants-a-fight variety. Like he’s not all here and somewhere in him, he still doesn’t believe this is happening. Few people survive a leech attack, but he’s seen enough of that face in the men coming back from the war, too: ones who believed that God, or their names, or luck would protect them and ended up crawling face-down in the dirt instead. Some of them, their bodies come back, but their souls never do. Same way McCullum has half of him back in a crumbling house in Dublin. But unlike him, the doctor’s out of his depth.

McCullum steps forwards to examine the holes, and they’re deep. Must have hurt like a bastard. Something powerful did this. Definitely not a neonate. Probably… something at the back of his mind mutters ekon, but he refuses to use the nonsense names they try and civilise themselves with. A monster is a monster. It’s damn lucky that the doctor’s walked away.

Damn lucky.

He doesn’t smell the stink of human blood that never quite comes out of their clothes, or see the tinge of red around the eyes that suggests a recent feed, on something with a soul. (They can never stop themselves for long. They all come back to it, in the end. And then the memories stay in their eyes.) The doctor stares him down, obviously uncomfortable but refusing to move. No. Blue, and such an uncannily pale blue that he’d think leech, if he hadn’t seen it on just enough humans before. Bloodshot and bloody exhausted, but not that inhuman, wrong tinge of red.

“Let me check your teeth,” he says.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, and there’s the posh-boy disbelief. It’s better than the absent-eyed shell shock; he’ll take it. “Is that really - ?”

“Teeth.”

They can tuck them away well enough, but most are too lazy to bother. It’s muscle memory, to walk about as they are. And besides, what leech would be stupid enough to walk into a room full of the Guard of Priwen and ask for a job? They’re arrogant, but they like to think they have more class than that. Less brass bollocks, more lurking in the shadows.

Bontemps

"De Sardet?" She looks at him - him, not the memory from months ago. His eyes are concerned. "You were some miles away there." She lies, "I was just thinking... Bontemps. Not a place I've heard of." "No. I doubt you would have." And she'd suspected, but the carefully-casual way he says it, the way he minutely shifts against the wall and the leather creaking of that new commander's coat... She stares at him. "A Naut isle, then?" "Indeed." "Am I allowed to know this?" He snorts. "You know too much already." The shifting turns to a tidal wave. "That brings me to my next point, actually." He takes his hands from the wall and turns to her, truly looks at her, then. "I have a... proposition for you." And the mulish way he says it, the slightest raise of his eyebrows, means he knows how that could sound. He sees her suppressing a smile and half-sighs; when they first met, he wouldn't even have let her have that, and it tells her he's not unamused. She settles for the other way to cheerfully misunderstand him. "I don't think tattoos would suit me as well as they do you, Vasco."

"No, I - " He exhales, and smooths a hand over the wall. She wonders if part of him is still wishing for the creak of wood and the sway of a ship; the way she misses her mother's laughter and Constantin regaling her with some tall tale and proper Serene tea, will always miss them. Out of command and out of a fight, he isn't wearing his gloves, and two curving lines show as his sleeve rides up - swiftly hidden as it pulls down again. He pauses, as if gathering his courage, and then, in an exhale: "You said you hoped you'd be able to sail with me again, once. Did you mean that?" "I meant it." She grins askance at him. "I really did have no complaints about the crossing." And he smiles, swift and contained but with less of that uncertainty now. In the first days they knew each other, he'd seemed... warmed, but reluctantly, wondering why a noble was buttering him up; was asking about the lines on his face and listening to stories of storm crossings and a man caught in a rope, pulled back overboard with broken ribs but surviving, in the nick of time. At least she'd thought so, until she realised somewhere along the way that it was... the closest thing he showed to bashfulness. He'd always been too self-confident for it to be obvious, but she saw it. He inclines his head. "I'm glad to hear it." He swallows. "I'm offering you that opportunity. If there's nowhere else you need or want to go. If you would like it." "To Bontemps?" "To Bontemps. We have room for a few more, and it's not unknown to have an outsider with you." He tilts his head and looks out over the market, and she gets the feeling he's severely understating it when he says, "Unusual, perhaps."

She realises with surprise that this is the thought he's been chewing over, the one he hesitated to tell her. As if she wouldn't like to sail with him, when there's... "There's nothing I'd like more."

He glances sharply over at her, surprised.

That was probably too earnest. The time withdrawing into herself, doing paperwork rather than travelling, taking dinner in her room... She's lost the knack of things. She adds swiftly, "Last time, I learned so many new and interesting curses. And you were quite a sight climbing the rigging."

At the surprised raise of an eyebrow and the way she suspects he'd be flushing if he were a lesser, noble man, she wonders if she's overstepped the mark. It was always enjoyable, to be sarcastic and to let him respond, even if for most of their travels she'd stayed away from anything that might be... misconstrued. She'd been paying him for the crossing, and even once they landed, she'd had the ability to make his life rather difficult. Even with him being assigned to her, she'd had no doubt that he'd walk away - probably quite colourfully, if he felt it necessary - but that was no reason to make him uncomfortable. But somehow, whether it's due to his own dry commentary or the fact he knows her better than most, she forgets to be diplomatic. (He had been. A sight, that is. She remembers the muttering below about He's actually in a good bloody mood, for once. Only a mad bastard like that would be in a good mood in fog. And then she'd gone above, and realised after a few seconds who it was calling down orders; who it was climbing down swift and sure like he was simply in a tree in a garden, calling something bright and inevitably insulting to one of the crew who'd made a comment. He'd hopped down onto the deck to retrieve the coat he'd tossed there - shirt soaked from the fog they'd had to pass through and the sea, hair damp and wild and curving into waves, new ink-lines revealed by the shirtcollar that must extend at least to his collarbones. He'd still been looking to the heckler, grin savage and joyous. She’d realised, then, that she’d never seen him smile before: truly, not the swift insincere thing he offered with pleasantries. The smile had lasted until he'd seen her there - and then it had fallen and he'd assumed the usual wary tired briskness, even through severely smudged kohl. A bow of his head and Your Excellency. I apologise for the delay, but we're back on course. And then he'd walked swiftly past her, orders sharp to the crew again, swiftly buckling the coat and jamming his hat back on his head, probably back to his cabin to find a change of clothes. And she'd abruptly realised she knew absolutely nothing about their captain.) She adds, swiftly and in a much airier tone, "If I were a braver woman, I'd ask you to teach me." He leans back against the low wall, crosses his arms. "If I didn't prefer you alive, I might take you up on that." But there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and she realises what that surprised expression was, when he glanced at her: he's pleased, quietly so, and barely trying to hide it.

Her realisation seems to make his resistance crumble: he grins at her, sharp and swift and lovely like a knife in the sun... And she wonders where that thought came from. Either way, she can't help returning it. He steps forwards, hat throwing shadows onto his face, and looks at her with that strange, surprised, fleeting thing that he always seems to tuck away before she can quite understand it. He steps forwards, his grin falling, hat throwing shadows onto his face, eyes dark and wide. "De Sardet, I..." A noblewoman with skirts entirely too expansive walks past them, and they have to swerve and flatten themselves against the wall and try not to fall over it entirely. It's a new fashion, and one De Sardet has been only too glad to avoid. They watch her go in silent disbelief.

When she looks back to him, his hat is resting in his hands where he's had to swiftly remove it, and he looks like he's gritting his teeth. Then it's gone, and he says, with a captain's brisk professionalism, “It’s three months’ journey. And we could be there for some time. I understand if that changes your mind.”

“Not at all. I… have few plans, to be quite honest with you.”

He nods with a relieved exhale. “Good. We set sail in a week. I would... like to see you there."

[trashficdumpster]

Another sleepless night left Edelgard tossing and turning. Their latest mission to exterminate thieves in the Kingdom was an utter disaster. Honestly, it was a miracle no one had died – the stronghold was dark and unfamiliar and swarming with enemies, not to mention the leader of the thieves turned into a demonic beast after being overwhelmed by the Lance of Ruin. Edelgard had heard of such things happening, but she had never witnessed it herself. Those degenerates she allied herself with kept many of their secrets to themselves, though they did mention that such beasts could be useful in the wars to come. That much, Edelgard had to concede, might be true. She still oscillated on the impact it would have on the common folk to see the Imperial forces being led by such monstrosities.

Although it had been a chaotic fight, the only person to come out of the battle with significant injuries was none other than Byleth. Order among their ranks broke down once Miklan transformed into his demonic state. Edelgard felt shame churn in her chest at the thought of losing control over the students she had been in charge of. Byleth respected Edelgard’s status as a house leader and regularly assigned half the students to her command. As a house leader, she had failed. As the future emperor of the Adrestian Empire, this sort of mistake could not be tolerated. She was fortunate that Byleth had the foresight to tell the healers to focus on everyone but the professor herself. When it was over, Linhardt and Mercedes had squeezed out the last of their energy to ensure Byleth made it back to the monastery. The moment they arrived back from the mission, the archbishop herself had been called to heal their professor. Edelgard had stormed off to her quarters to reflect on her failures.

With a frustrated sigh, Edelgard got out of bed and dressed to go for a walk. The night air was still warm and humid as it was in the summer months. The other residents on the second floor also seemed to be having a hard time sleeping, judging from the candlelight that leaked from under their doors. It was surprising how many students from the other houses elected to join the Black Eagles. It was not as surprising to note that those newer additions who joined them on that hellish endeavor were the least prepared.

While her mind was occupied, Edelgard’s feet led her downstairs. She passed by several rooms, heading aimlessly in the direction of the training grounds. As she drew nearer to the massive oaken doors, Edelgard noticed yet another pool of warm light coming from the very last room. Byleth’s quarters. She frowned. Wasn’t Byleth supposed to be in the infirmary? Without thinking, Edelgard found herself knocking on the door.

“Professor?” There was a rustling sound followed by a few soft footsteps before the door swung open to reveal Byleth in only a thin cotton shift that reached her upper thighs. She pulled on her favorite cloak as Edelgard gawked. Byleth’s long, muscular legs were like a siren’s call for her eyes. And yet, among the scars that crisscrossed the flesh of her legs, Edelgard couldn’t find a fresh wound. She clearly remembered Byleth’s leg getting raked by one of the beast’s claws. And she certainly recalled Byleth getting whipped in the chest with that long, heavy tail as she’d shoved Caspar out of harm’s way. Her breastplate had lost some of its scales and Edelgard was fairly certain some of Byleth’s ribs had been broken.

“Is everything alright?” Even though Byleth looked exhausted, she was in one piece.

“Professor, how are you standing? When we returned, you were hurt so badly,” Edelgard cut herself off as she became aware of her increasing volume. “How is this possible?” She gestured emphatically at her teacher (that was not at all an excuse to admire said teacher’s body).

“Lady Rhea healed me.”

“No healer alive could have done…all of that.” It really shouldn’t have been so shocking, she remembered ruefully. Rhea wasn’t human after all.

“I suppose the archbishop is different. Why don’t you come in?” She stood aside to allow Edelgard to get by. Once they were both in the room, Byleth pulled her desk chair out for Edelgard to sit down as she perched on her bed, looking oddly soft swaddled in her cloak. She tried very hard not to let her mind wander to all the scandalous thoughts being in her professor’s room so late at night brought up. Instead, she occupied herself by glancing at Byleth’s belongings. There were a few worn tactics books on the shelf set flanked by newer volumes about fishing and gardening, as well as a thick tome on the history of Fódlan. The Sword of the Creator was propped up by the headboard, still caked in black blood, and there were baskets of sweets on her desk.

“I don’t want to disturb the others. I think everyone’s going to have a hard time sleeping tonight after what they saw – I don’t want to make it harder.”

Edelgard nodded her agreement. “I apologize for my outburst. And for troubling you at this hour.”

“What’s bothering you?” Byleth leaned forward attentively, brow crinkled with worry. It seemed that as time went on, Byleth grew more expressive. Seeing such blatant concern in her eyes made Edelgard’s heart skip a beat. At the same time, though, it made her want to shrink away. Put on a commanding façade and power through any obstacle and shove those anxieties deep down where they wouldn’t interfere with her goals. With Byleth, however…it was a little easier. She never presumed, never passed judgment, only listened and offered her honest opinion. Edelgard never worried that her dear professor had hidden ambitions or an ulterior motive for helping her. One day, Edelgard sincerely wished to be honest with Byleth. For now, though, she would have to settle for half-truths.

“I came to talk about the mission. The way we broke ranks – it very well should have been a fatal mistake.” She couldn’t help but peek guiltily at Byleth’s legs, still free from the injuries she sustained earlier. “And I wanted to apologize for not keeping order when you couldn’t.”

Byleth put a hand up. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault, Edelgard,” the way she said Edelgard’s name so gently ground the world to a halt. “I was in charge of all of you. It was my inexperience that put us in that situation. I was blindsided – we hadn’t prepared for that kind of threat before. We were fortunate to have Gilbert with us. I don’t think we would have made it otherwise.” Byleth’s gaze drifted to the Sword of the Creator and her countenance grew darker.

“What happened today showed me that I still have much to learn about that sword.” Byleth chuckled hollowly. “I feel stupid thinking I could take that thing on with a weapon I only got a moon ago. After seeing what these weapons can do, I’m not sure that they are gifts from the goddess.” Edelgard found herself reaching for her teacher’s arm, but quickly withdrew her hand.

“Are you afraid the same will happen to you?”

“No, I’m sure that I would have already turned into a beast by now if that were the case.” Byleth shook her head and sighed. “I should count myself lucky that I have a Crest, but when I see how the nobility values them above all else – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringing this up with you of all people. Forgive my ignorance on these things.”

It was Edelgard’s turn to halt undue apologies. “I’m not offended, my teacher. When I am emperor, I will ensure that no one’s worth will be based on the blood in their veins, nor the money in their coffers.”

“That’s admirable…I think I’d like to see that.”

Edelgard sat up a little straighter. “Thank you, my teacher.” It was hard not to preen when she received such praise from her precious professor. Byleth’s brooding look dissipated into one of curiosity. “You frequently say ‘my teacher’ to me. I haven’t noticed you saying it to Manuela or Hanneman – any of the other teachers, really. Should I start calling you ‘my student’?” She tapped her succulent-looking lips, as if deep in thought. Edelgard wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. She fought the heat rising to her face, ears pricking with embarrassment.

“Well, ah, you are my teacher,” Edelgard said very intelligently. Was it too late to go back and fight that demonic beast alone? When she saw the smile on Byleth’s face, though, Edelgard was sure she was frozen to the spot. It was like a special treat just for her – that she made Byleth smile.

“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t tease you. I don’t mind it at all. Let me make it up to you,” Byleth rose from her seat on the bed and moved around Edelgard to reach for one of the baskets of cookies on her desk. Edelgard’s body went stiff as she realized their proximity. She hardly noticed when Byleth stood before her, offering some of the confections. “You can take this basket if you like. Mercedes and Lysithea gave me so many that I won’t be able to eat them all while they’re still fresh. They insisted these would help me recover.”

When Edelgard found her voice again, her throat was dry. “You don’t need to shower me with sweets, professor,” she swallowed thickly and looked away. “But I suppose it would be rude of me to decline.”

“I don’t mean to burden you, I thought you just liked these sorts of things.”

“No! My teacher, you misunderstand,” Edelgard cut herself off when she saw that mischievous glint in her teacher’s eyes that seemed to appear more often these days. “You’re cruel.”

Byleth smiled again as she handed the cookies over. “So you’ve said.”

“Thank you,” Edelgard said quietly before standing up. If she stayed much longer, she would surely combust. “I should let you rest. You must be exhausted.”

Byleth looked at her quizzically. “Alright. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I think I’ll be able to sleep now. Thank you for this, my teacher.” Edelgard definitely would not be able to sleep for quite some time. She was, however, struck by the inspiration to draw for the first time in a long while. As she bid Byleth good night and hurried back to her room, the image of Byleth’s warm smile made her hand itch for a piece of charcoal.

How many hours she spent trying and failing to capture Byleth’s likeness, Edelgard had no idea. But when she awoke to sunlight flooding her room and Hubert’s increasingly frantic knocking only to find that she’d fallen asleep and hopelessly smeared what would have been her best attempt…well it made her want to take a page out of Bernadetta’s book and stay in her room all day. Instead, she made herself presentable, ate one of the cookies she’d received, and went to class where she promptly lost all focus because she saw Byleth wearing what she wore under her armored bodice – without the armor. The breastplate was probably being repaired. Her teacher’s muscled torso was put on display by the form fitting material she wore.

It was the longest lecture in Edelgard’s life.

[chicagocityofclans]

Imani Colt → Nicole Beharie → Hunter

→ Basic Information

Age: 35

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Birthday: September 7th

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Religion: Irreligion

→ Her Personality Imani is a stubborn and courageous woman, often putting other needs above her own. She keeps a tight rein on her emotions which is a product of her upbringing and her rigorous hunter training. Imani keeps things bottled up inside and only shares her feelings with immense pressure. As a result, she is often reserved and slow to anger, but beneath her tough exterior is someone who feels very deeply. Imani is protective and loyal to those close to her. She has intense emotions that rarely surface and are directed primarily toward the people she cares about most. Imani is knowledgeable, practical, intelligent and at times calculating. She has a talent for profiling and her skills have helped track down many well-hidden supernaturals. She is also very curious; especially when it comes to the immortal 3 (vampires, human shifters, and magic users)

Imani is a strong-willed woman capable of holding her own as a hunter. She can be ruthless to enemies and friendly to allies, making her a dangerous foe and an exceptionally reliable friend. Imani is both an experienced and capable hunter as well as a fiercely defensive maternal figure who is to be taken very seriously within the Colt and Anderson family. As the wife of the headhunter, Imani can take on the leadership position when necessary, bringing in the Anderson family person style to the Colts. As a hunter, she stays on topic. She wants to get the job done as much as anyone else. Imani prefers to gather as much information about a situation as she can before deciding on it. Through her association with the supernatural, Imani mind is open to never-ending possibilities and ideas. She is willing and able to point out the ways that ideas could go wrong, often demanding to plan for different outcomes. Imani and Blaine are incredibly good at putting the pieces together and brainstorming together. They make an amazing married couple and hunting partners.  

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Senior Hunter

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Neutral Colors and Hunting

Two Dislikes: Bright Colors and Venomous Snakes/Spiders

Two Fears: Gaining Weight and Meaningless Death

Two Hobbies: Learning (languages, cooking, information) and Journaling (about kills)

Three Positive Traits: Loyal, Protective, Clever

Three Negative Traits: Uncompromising, Denfinsive, Unmerciful

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Grant Anderson (Father): Imani has always been close to her father. He taught her everything she knows and made sure she had the best trainers. Imani knows that he wished she was a boy when she was born but cannot complain about the way she was raised and the benefits that followed. Grant is an amazing grandpa.

Candace Anderson (Mother): Imani mother is loving and smothering. Candace spoils her grandbabies and always spends them home hyper. Candace family believed in breeding for the best possible hunter outcomes. Imani does not blame her mother for running and finds her story encouraging; especially about meeting her dad. This also made Imani life hell with a clingy and opinionated mother.  

Sibling Names:

Ebony Anderson (Sister): Ebony and Imani have a common sisterly bond. They have each others backs and get along well but are also constantly fighting about stupid things and pissing each other off. Ebony encouraged Imani to start dating Blaine and has always been supportive of their relationship.

Children Names:

Bryson Colt (Son): Bryson is showing a lot of promise. At the age of 6, Bryson can recite random species traits better than the ‘Baby Shark’ song. Imani loves her oldest son and thinks he is a perfect mixture of Blaine and herself but he takes after his father in temper, ruthlessness and intelligence.

Wesson Colt (Son): Wesson is a hellion at the simple age of 4 and a half. Everyone swears Wesson is more Anderson than Colt and naming him after a gun was a horrible idea. Wesson is a handful but Imani loves him all the same.

Orion Colt (Son): Akins twin brother. Blaine and Imani were trying one more time for a girl but were surprised to find out they were having twin boys. Orion has just turned 2 years old. Imani is tempted to try again for a girl now that the boys are older, however, Orion needs more care and love than her older sons.

Akins Colt (Son): Orion twin brother. Blaine and Imani were trying one more time for a girl but were surprised to find out they were having twin boys. Akins has just turned 2 years old. Imani is tempted to try again for a girl now that the boys are older, however, Akins needs more love and attention than her older sons.

Romantic Connections:

Blaine Colt (Husband): Blaine was not love at first sight or anything gushy. When they first met she was unimpressed by the legendary Colt. To take him down a few notches she purposely went after his hunts and tried to beat him to the punch. That peaked his interest in her and hers in him. Imani learned to care and respect him and then eventually fell in love with Blaine. He is her husband and best friend. They dated for 3 years before getting married in secret. Blaine and Imani have recently celebrated their 7 year anniversary.

Platonic Connections:

Colin Colt (Brother-In-Law): Imani brought her concerns about D.W. up to Colin which he quickly found excuses for. She thought they once had a really strong relationship, but Colin’s blatant refusal to even look at evidence and suspicions she has had has really soured their bond. She is going to keep looking into it, however, because he’s family.

Elle Colt (Sister-In-Law): Elle and Imani get on like houses on fire. Elle has told Imani that she was exactly what he needed in order to get his ego deflated a bit. They talk about ideas and strategy often, and respect each other’s minds.

Alice Colt (Sister-In-Law): Alice is like a mini Blaine. She worked long hours to try and get Alice back into fighting shape. She was also the one to discover one armed archery, and helped Alice find her passion for the sport again.

Amy Colt (Sister-In-Law): Amy plays fast and loose, but a part of her enjoys it. She trusts that Amy knows what she’s doing. They get along really well and Imani feels like a part of the girl’s group.

Casper Colt (Brother-In-Law): Imani agrees with her husband about Casper. He has no future as a hunter. It’s a shame, because he might have been something if someone intervened earlier.

Megan Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani gives unofficial credit to Megan for getting her and Blaine together. Had Megan not suggested a collaboration, she’d never have given him more than a split second of thought.

Iris Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani has been teaching Iris the ins and outs of online tracking. It’s not a skill that the Colts teach their tracker, but she thinks Iris will catch on quickly.

Hailey Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani approves of Hailey. She thinks she is a very capable woman on her own, and would keep her cousin on his toes. They don’t often talk, but they had a great conversation about moves and techniques not too far back.

Trevon Anderson (Cousin): Trevon is Imani’s favorite cousin. They get along the best out of all the other Anderson. She does not feel like Trevon will stab her in the back since they share a lot of the same views and are willing to go above and beyond on hunt. Imani had given Trevon the thumbs up when he expressed his interest in Hailey Colt. Imani has gone as far as hinting it to Blaine and Alexus.

Nia Anderson (Cousin): Nia is the model cousin and no one else can compare. Imani knew their family did not do it on purpose but she spent her entire childhood being compared to Nia. As adults, Imani can put the past behind her and be civil with her cousin but Imani believes she sailed through life.

Marquis Anderson (Cousin): Imani feels for her little cousin. She wishes she could do more for him but the most she can do is keep her door open for him.

Raven Jenkins (Cousin): Imani is glad Raven did not turn out like her mother. She enjoys the few hunts they take together and is happy she is friends with Alice.

Alexus Anderson (Aunt): Alexus has always been a judging figure in Imani’s life. She always had to work and trained harder to try and please her aunt; which never worked. It wasn’t until adulthood did Alexus start showing her any respect and quit her unfair judgmental assumptions.

Arthur Milligan (Undefined): The Anderson works with a lot of supernatural creatures but Arthur is one of her favorites. Whenever he has an ‘untouchable’ he slides it her way and she takes care of the problem for him or the other supernatural cops.

Churchill Darling (Undefined): Imani thought she was in trouble when a known human shifter first approached her but he had a box full of cases involving untouchable humans and another box involving unpunished members of Clan Rat. Imani shared the box with the Colts and Anderson. They’ve been working on it for months. Imani is thinking of ways to show some gratitude towards him.

Hostile Connections:

Eric Lasiter (Strained Friendship): Eric believes Imani stole from him and she has tried multiple times to explain the misunderstanding without any luck.

Jazmine Anderson (Disappointment): Jazmine stole information off of Imani’s phone and ruined her friendship with Eric Lasiter; and possibly her reputation.

Tirra Jenkins (Dislike/Annoyance): Since marrying into the Jenkins family, Tirra constantly acts as if she is better than the Anderson family. Imani is annoyed that she lost one of her favorite aunts but Tirra really grinds her gears.

D.W. Colt (Distrusts): Imani instincts are going haywire in concern to D.W, she seemed like a nice enough person at first but the more Imani watched her, the more her warning bells turned into sirens. The fact that no one is taking Imani seriously in regards to D.W is pissing Imani off and making her more aggressive towards D.W.  

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background)

→ The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Politics is the warfare of minds

“The intergalactic fleet restriction laws are clear.” Began Councilor Yumi as she addressed the entire governing body of the Pan Galactic Federation. “No species is to have a navy larger than the established criteria which states ten ships per system controlled by an individual member species of the Federation.”  She pointed a slender finger at the human ambassador sitting on the opposite side of the audience chamber. “The humans have ignored these limits and for the past several years have been building a massive navy of nearly a thousands ships within the limits of the “Sol” system!” A round of gasps and exasperation’s rung out in the chamber as all eyes turn towards the human ambassador who was still calmly sitting in place and meeting Yumi’s gaze head on.  “Do you mean to make war against us?” “How dare the humans!!!” “Expel them from the Federation!” Came the cries of other councilors until the entire room was in uproar. This went on for several minutes until the lights dimmed and a massive hologram of the Federations Executor appeared. “Silence please, members of the Federation, silence please.” The cries and jeers began dying down with the Executor’s call for silence until the room was once more silent as the grave.  “Councilor Yumi,” the Executor spoke, “these are serious charges you bring against the human species. Very serious. I hope you have proof to back these claims or I shall hold you in contempt for attempting to start panic and turn the Federation against one of our own.” “Indeed councilor. we began receiving reports from our merchants trading with humanity that they had begun purchasing large amounts of ship building materials. We then dispatched a recon team into their system and discovered massive hidden shipyards orbiting the planet known as “Mars” churning out ships at 3-4 per earth week.” Yumi paused for the information to set in, and also for dramatic effect. She’d waited a long time to knock the humans back into their place and this was her chance to finally do so.  “Additionally,” she added, wanting to stoke the flames further “in human culture Mars is most often associated with the god of war. Another ill omen I find most troubling.” It was important to strike not only at humans from a practical level but also on a spiritual level. Many of the species in the Federation had different religions that were taken seriously. By bringing in humans concept of a god for “War” Yumi could further turn additional councilors against humanity.  As more glares fell towards the human councilor the Executor raised a hand and then turned towards the human councilor. “Councilor Nevara, you have been accused of ignoring established fleet regulations and illegally expanding your species navy. There is considerable evidence against you by the information provided by councilor Yumi but judgement is not against you. You may now respond to these accusations as you see fit before a final judgement is rendered.”   Councilor Nevara rose from her seat and flattened the front of her robes before gazing out across the councilors present. As she fell on Yumi she stared for several seconds before bursting out with laughter. Yumi was taken aback for a moment, she had not expected the human councilor to react in such a manner. The laughter was loud and meaningful that lasted for at least a minute before dying off. “My honored councilors,” Nevara began as she wiped the tears from her eyes, the last of her giggles dying away,”I feel there has been a grave misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of such scale that I could not help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all and I pray you will forgive me for any notions of disrespect you may have thought towards you all.”  Nevara coughed into her hand for a moment before shaking her head clear and continuing. “It is true, we are building large amounts of ships; and yes, there are massive dockyards orbiting our planet Mars producing ships at an impressive rate.” Yumi looked on with a smug smile as she assumed that the human was about to cave and admit to building a war fleet.  Nevara motioned to Yumi, a serious tone taking over. “But these ships are not for war and implying so without doing further research in my book is the real provocation here by councilor Yumi attempting to spread her anti-humanity views.”  Yumi’s hands slammed into her desk. “LIES!” She shouted. “We have proof that you have been building a massive fleet for months now and our spies have confirmed that!” Nevara wasn’t shaken by the sudden outburst and instead turned to the Executor. “My dear Executor, I will be more than happy to answer all inquiries councilor Yumi may have or any other councilor present as my people have nothing to hide, but I would like it noted that it will take much longer for me to respond if I am interrupted by sudden outbursts before I can finish.”  Yumi’s face was turning red with anger and she was about to rebuke Nevara when the Executor cut in. “Your point is noted councilor Nevara. Councilor Yumi, you will not interrupt again while councilor Nevara is offering her defense. She patiently waited for you to level your claims against her without interrupting you and you shall do the same. We are a Federation, not a school of youngsters on the playground.” Yumi bit down a rebuke she was about to say and sat back down.  “Thank you councilor Yumi.” Nevara’s remark only seemed to rise the irk of Yumi even further. “Now I will address your claims one at a time. First, you claimed that there were hidden shipyards on Mars. That is simply not true.” Nevara fiddled with the controls on her desk for a moment and a hologram of Mars and the surrounding moons was brought up. “For those of my fellow councilors unfamiliar with the Sol system this planet is the planet in question Mars.” She fiddled with the controls again and the image increase to one of the nearby moons revealing several shipyards. “As I confirmed earlier the planet does have several shipyards orbiting it, but what is mistaken is that they were hidden. Currently I am using the interstellar positioning system available to all councilors and their respected staff and I can clearly zoom in with such detail as to make out the face of one of the construction crew members. If we were truly hiding these shipyards, do you not think we would have done a better job all things considered?” Yumi could see several councilors fiddling with their desks as well and projecting smaller versions of mars in front of them and began examining the shipyards. “It is true that at one point in human history that Mars was named after the human god of war for the planets color appearing as blood. But this was several dozen centuries ago, back when humanity was still infantile as a species. Why for the longest time many of our species believed the female half was created by a god who broke the rib off a male human so he could have a companion.” A few chuckles came from nearby councilors at the self deprecating joke. “I assure you that despite the meaning behind the name it has remained as a legacy to our culture and history, something of which I am sure many of my fellow councilors understand. Some of your races date back thousands of generations and have no doubt left countless names reflecting moments that have meaning to your people and your people alone.” Yumi was getting upset as she could see many of the previously angry councilors now nodding at Nevara’s words.  “Your next claim was that these shipyards were producing warships. Again, that is not true. They are producing mining vessels and nothing more.” “Forgive me Executor but I can not stay silent in the face of such lies!” Yumi decried as she rose once more. “Our spies infiltrated several of these shipyards and acquired several plans showing these vessel have increased hull thickness, heavy shielding, large turret housings, and hangars large enough on either side to fit an entire squadron of fighters and bombers.”  Yumi used her controls and replaced Mars with blueprints of the ship designs.    “Councilor Yumi,” the Executor cut in, “you were warned not to interrupt councilr Nevara during her defense.” Yumi was about to respond when Nevara cut her off. “I thank you for your kind words Executor but I am fine with this interruption. No doubt this is a cause of concern for many of my fellow councilors, a concern I am happy to put to bed.”  “It is true that these ships are highly different in scale and design from other standard mining ships, but that is because this is a new model built entirely by humans.” She enhanced the designs to focus on each issue as it arose. “The large hangars are in fact the entry points for asteroids to be pushed into by support craft. The asteroids would then be grinned up and the valuable ore separated from non-valuable ore. The large turret housings are intended to hold state of the art mining laser that would cut up larger asteroids into smaller pieces for the support craft. The laser nearing the end of its testing cycle as it is one of our most advanced lasers to date. It is also roughly the same design as our battleships capital guns so while the laser is still in development and not ready for implementation yet we instead used the capital gun as a place holder for testing purposes of the new ships. Once the laser finishes testing and is put into production the capital guns would be switched for the lasers.  Yumi wished to barf at the amount of explanations the human was giving to cover their tracks but she wouldn’t be fooled.  “The extra shield layers are to help protect the ship from erratic asteroids that may drift into the ship while it is harvesting. While I am hesitant to explain the thicker hulls as it reflects poorly on my people I feel I must to erase any doubts my fellow councilors have of our intentions.”  “Our shield systems are far from perfect. At the moment they are able to maintain some protection but are known to short circuit and power down. We are new to the concept of shield technology so this would be our first attempt, but because we know our own failings we increased the hulls to compensate a shield failure possibility.” Nevara fiddled once again with her controls and brought up a video file. “What you are about to see is our initial test footage with our shields.”  “All watched in silence as a picture of a human vessel came into view. In the background they could hear what sounded as other humans listing off technical data when the ship was suddenly covered with a blue sphere. A secondary ship came into view and released a large asteroid that drifted towards the shielded ship. Upon coming into contact the shields lit of under the strain producing a blinding beam of blue light. This lasted for several seconds before the sphere vanished and the asteroid continued drifting into the now unshielded ship and crushed several decks before bouncing away into space.  “This file,” Nevara cut in as the video vanished, “was deemed top secret by my government as it reflects upon humanities capacity.” She grasped her desk for a few seconds and paused, staring down at the desk. “My government did not give me authorization to release that video to you.” A sudden series of gasps came from the room. “Nevara held up her hand for silence. “After I leave today there is a high chance I will be relieved of my position and sent to prison. But I will not leave here without showing you this and clearing the air from these lies and misconceptions that have been put at my peoples feet.”  Nevara raised her head and glared at Yumi. “My people have no intention of making war on any of you, all we wanted was to harvest the massive asteroid fields surrounding our system and use the materials to improve the lives of our citizens. Had any of you asked we would have been glad to have shared that information freely since we felt it wasn’t worth of a galactic announcement in these chambers where wars have been declared and the lives of billions saved by the actions of my fellow council members. We felt it wasn’t worthy to stand next to such actions so we chose to keep quiet and let the Federation deal with more pressing matters.”  “But you never did ask did you councilor Yumi?” Yumi could feel her plan backfiring as she saw numerous eyes stare at her. “No, you never gave me nor humanity any chance to explain ourselves. Instead you sent spies into our home system infiltrated our shipyards, and lets not forget, STOLE our species latest mining ship design and then broadcast it to every councilor in this room!” Nevara waved her hand across the entire chamber. “Every councilor here now has a copy of our ships, ships that took generations to develop and design and perfect, costing not just money and materials but also in the lives of our builders that died along the way from on-site accidents. You spit on our fallen’s legacy with your actions and instead use them for your own means, framing humanity as blood thirsty monsters when all we wanted was to harvest some GOD DAMN SPACE ROCKS!” Nevara slammed her fist into her desk with such force some of the nearby councilors retracted in shock.  Nevara continued glaring at Yumi for several seconds before closing her eyes and calming down. “I laughed earlier because I thought this was all some mistake. But now I see by your very own actions that you Councilor Yumi just hate humanity and will do anything in your power to set us up for a fall.” Yumi stood in silence as Nevara changed gaze to the Executor. “I feel that I have provided sufficient detail for my peoples defense. The proof has already been uploaded to my fellow councilors and they can go over it at their pleasure. Any additional questions I would be more than willing to answer in the coming days if I am not recalled. I apologize but I am suddenly feeling unwell and beg your leave Executor to return to my office.”  The hologram hovered over the councilors for several moments in silence before nodding. Nevara pushed in her chair and left the council chamber in silence.  Yumi could hear the councilors around her. “She was trying to play us against humanity.” “She must really hate humans.” Do you think she was lying?” “Nevara showed us classified documents, why would she if she was lying?” “I hope the humans don’t replace her, we could use more of that spunk from a councilor.”  The tone of the room had turned on her and it was Yumi now who felt like she was backed into a corner... ------------------- “Did they suspect anything?”  “Doubtful.” Nevara answered the hologram in her office. The shades had been drawn and a dampener field was running to block out any outside monitoring devices.  “They had our designs, we need to know for certain. Too much is riding on this.”  “Yes sir. I believe I painted a pretty enough picture to swing their voices against Yumi, even going so far as to show them “classified” documents knowing full well what my government would do for me.”  The hologram chuckled. “Doubt they’d think we’d give you a medal and promote you several ranks.” Nevara smiled. “That reminds me, have the government issue me a censure for my actions and have me recalled “pending further investigation”. That should help make the cover story more believable.” “We already have a military cutter heading out your way with an escort to “haul” you back to earth to account for your actions. Should arrive in a day or two. Continue working as you normally would and show little reaction when they arrive, like you always knew they were coming. “ “Understood sir.”  “You did our people proud councilor. We were barely able to detect a breach in our security at the shipyards and scrambled to implement the fake documents. Without your performance now our entire operation would’ve been discovered earlier than planned.” “Think nothing of it sir. How far along is the operation now?” “The fleet has been moved closer to earth for security reasons while arming continues. At current rate we’ll be ready to sail within a month.”  “I can’t wait to see our ships flying over the skies of everyone planet in this stupid federation.” Nevara said. The hologram nodded to her. “We’ve had to play nice with the Federation after the first contact wars, but now with our fleet we can go toe to toe with them.” Nevara smiled. “No more playing nice to those that tried to keep us from our destiny.”  A sudden knock at her door alerted Nevara. She instantly cut the hologram and disabled the dampener field. She adopted a posture of stress and concern and then opened the door. “Yes?” she asked meekly. “Councilor Nevara,” an alien councilor stood at the door,  “the Executor wished me to deliver to you the news that the council has found the charges against humanity baseless and cleared you of all of them. They are now in the process of writing a petition to the human government to say they wish you to stay on as a councilor.” Nevara raised her head a bit higher. “That is most kind of them, but I’m not sure if that will be enough to sway my superiors. They can be stubborn sometimes.” The messenger nodded. “Indeed, your species is known for that and your cleverness. The way you were able to easily put councilor Yumi on the back foot was most impressive. I pity anyone that would meet you on the fields of war.”  Nevara smiled. “Indeed. I pity all those that try to keep humanity low.” 

[juvinadelgreko]

🪐share your natal chart tag game🪐

I was tagged by @beautifulcinephile and @strawberrylight. Thanks guys!

Instructions: go to cafeastrology.com and generate your natal chart. Copy the descriptions for your sun, moon, and rising signs. Bold the portions you feel apply to you.

Sun is in Libra ♎️

Libra natives are generally thought to be sociable, somewhat intellectual souls. They have an almost innocent way about them that makes them very approachable. Generally quite eager to cooperate, Librans spend a lot of their time trying not to rock the boat.

In theory, Libras are peace-loving. In practice, they can quietly stir up all sorts of trouble with their ways. Because Libra enjoys balance in their lives, they seek the middle ground. In the process, they may end up trying to be everything to everyone. This is where their reputation for untruthfulness comes from. Generally, their untruths spring from a true desire for peace and fairness--although they may not be comfortable with direct and malicious trickery, they feel totally justified when they lie in order to avoid making waves. Peace at any price! In this sense, they seem harmless. But, what can result is quite a ruckus! People involved with Libras may crib about their lack of directness and their apparent inability to take a stand. Librans are experts at avoiding being the one to blame. When confronted, they'll (calmly and reasonably) say, "What, me? No, I just want peace." "On the fence", "middle ground", "middle road" -- these are all expressions that we can safely associate with Libra. Some more powerful signs may consider Libra a little on the weak side. This is all a matter of opinion, however! Without Libra, life simply wouldn't be as fair.

Librans are known for comparing and thinking in relative terms, instead of in absolutes. This weekend is not just a good weekend, it's better than last weekend. As a Libra, you are always looking for the "best" way or the "right" way to live. Harmony is the ultimate goal, but your idealism and high expectations can amount to plenty of discontent. Since life presents all of us with an extraordinary amount of choices, if you don't learn to live in the moment at least some of the time, you'll be in a constant state of unrest.

You're extremely sensitive to imbalances around you. You aim to meet others halfway, and you definitely keep count in a relationship! As an Air sign, you live in your head more than most people, and as a Cardinal sign, you aim to take action. It's true that you can be a procrastinator, but ultimately, you are moved to get things done, but you seek to do so with tact, grace, and consideration for others.

Society needs rules, and these rules attempt to bring justice, equality, and fairness. On an individual level, Libra represents these laws of civilization. As a Libra, you are very civilized and rather refined. You are diplomatic and fair. You can be indecisive and can suffer from "paralysis by analysis," but you also see many different levels of any situation and can always see others' points of view.

Libra is associated with copper, pastel colors, opals, emeralds, pink quartz, both silver and gold jewelry, the number 6, and Fridays.

Moon is in Pisces ♓️

Those with the Moon in Pisces are known to be dreamy and not always in touch with reality. However, though you may not always show real-world savvy in day-to-day, practical affairs, you make up for this with remarkable intuition. You can put yourself in anybody's shoes with extreme ease. On the plus side, this endows you with remarkable compassion and love. The downside with this apparent ability to break down boundaries is that you can easily lose yourself in the suffering of others.

With your Moon sign Pisces, your sense of humor is delightfully silly and a bit odd. You are a perceptive soul who seems to be in touch with all the nuances and subtleties of human nature. Often this comes through in a strong sense of humor that is more of the receptive kind than the type of sense of humor that would make people the "life of the party." It's generally pretty easy to get them laughing. Crying, too!

Moon in Pisces people may get tagged as "spaced out," but there's a lot more to them than meets the eye. They feel things out and rely quite strongly on their intuition. It just doesn't feel right for them to do otherwise. Their dreaminess can mean plenty of moments of absent-mindedness. These times of oblivion can land them in all sorts of predicaments with others who can too easily misunderstand these complex souls. Without plenty of space and time to daydream, Pisces Moons easily get overloaded in life. Give them room to be alone with themselves, and they're generally able to take on the world--even if their style when they do so is not always conventional or understandable.

Generally considered soft-hearted and sweet, you care about others and are easily touched by human suffering. This tendency can gain you the reputation as a sucker for a sob story. Although this may sometimes be true, you learn in your lifetime how to discern between sincerity and manipulation. Still, you definitely do have plenty of soft corners.

This is a powerfully creative and artistic Moon. It's also one of the most understanding and nuanced combinations.

There's a delightful accepting side to Moon in Pisces that is sometimes mistaken for weakness. Pisces is the twelfth and last sign of the zodiac, and thus carries with it a little of each sign of the zodiac. As a result, Pisces sees themselves reflected in the behavior of others, giving them seemingly boundless compassion. Since the Moon represents our instinctive nature, Moon in Pisces seems to know how things feel without actual experience. They may have never experienced something but still seem to understand it -- even, or especially, the subtleties of it. The ones that aren't too shy make awesome actors. The ability to empathize even in the absence of experience gives them an open mind and heart. Most long to express this through writing, music (both listening and making), poetry, and art --in fact, the more satisfied people with this position do just that. Nevertheless, this is a searching Moon sign that is often divinely discontent!

Though some are doormats, most Pisces Moon people instinctively know when they're due for a much-needed recharge. It's at these times that they retreat from the world (and its harsh realities) if only to gather strength to face everything and everyone again. Solitude is important to them, but they also need people, so their retreats will usually be short-lived. Pisces Moon individuals believe; and, let's face it, the world needs Piscean leaps of faith.

You are a bit of an escapist or avoider. You don't always feel equipped to face things head-on. Although your intentions are usually good, a potential weakness is your ability to "get out of" things. When you are emotionally present, though, you are a wonderfully entertaining, understanding, and kind-hearted person to be around.

Virgo Ascendant ♍️

People with Virgo rising are often a little understated in their personal mannerisms and appearance, although a lot depends on the position of Mercury (the ruling planet of Virgo) in the chart. There is an intelligent and reserved aura about Virgo rising individuals that is unmistakable, however.

You may come across as somewhat shy or aloof, as you need time to analyze everything around you before you warm up to both situations and people. This quality can be received exactly as that, or it can be received as a rather stand-offish, cool, and even critical manner (depending on the audience).

One of the strongest personality traits of this position is body-awareness. You can be particularly sensitive to any discomfort or other signals your body gives you. For this reason, you can be particularly concerned with physical health and might be drawn to mind-body awareness exercises such as yoga. You might also be quite particular with food! Although some people with Virgo rising have good appetites, there can be an unmistakable pickiness about what they put in--and on--their bodies.

You are likely to worry a lot, especially when confronted with new situations. It's difficult not to since you notice the tiniest details that others overlook. Your powers of observation are through the roof, but sometimes this trait adds too much to the anxiety pile.

With Virgo rising, it's definite that you have Pisces on the Descendant. This can point to a tendency to attract (or be attracted to) people who need help, which can lead to uncomfortable or confusing situations -- sometimes you feel taken advantage of. Despite the Virgo rising tendency to appear rather collected and professional, relationships can sometimes get messy simply because you don’t always see your partners and partnerships clearly. You want to see the best in a partner.

You absolutely have your own way of doing things! Some may even call your methods unusual or peculiar, but they get the job done. It's very true that Virgo is a flexible sign -- after all, it's from the Mutable mode family -- and you often make accommodations for others. However, your way is the right way, and as much as you allow others to do their own thing, you demand the right to do the same. You've put a lot of time and energy into your methods, after all.

You work hard at whatever you do. Always going the extra mile, you have a difficult time being idle. As hard as you work, however, you may not always be focused on the big prize. For one, worry and particularness can slow you down -- you can be quite the perfectionist. For another, you're not always comfortable in the spotlight. However, this trait can be modified by the position and condition of Mercury in your chart, by sign, house, and aspect. For example, if Mercury is in Aquarius, you may not mind standing out from the crowd!

You work best at projects that you can oversee and manage slowly. Starting small and expanding slowly but surely is definitely the better choice for you, as situations that seem beyond your control can overwhelm you too quickly. Your confidence builds as you move along at your own pace. Watch that you don't miss out on opportunities because of the high standards you have for yourself. You may not think you can handle something, but if you give it a try, you may very well realize that you worried about it for nothing.

You can be highly skilled at what you do. It's no surprise that there are many artisans among you with your meticulous attention to detail and your desire to perfect and hone your craft. You might also be drawn to projects and lines of work that involve a lot of research, analysis, classification, and detail work.

You can come across as a little cool or critical, often without even realizing it. In truth, you are kind and concerned. You do live in your head so much that you can end up not trusting your intuition -- something to watch for! You are not obviously demonstrative. You are an earthy and sensual being, but it doesn't show up in first impressions.

Orderliness is vital to you. Chaotic situations stress you out more than they do others. You quickly become aware of all the variables involved in a new situation, and it's important to you that you feel you can manage them. With Mercury your sign's ruler, you can be given to fretting, tension, and nervousness. You certainly aim to pay attention to the smallest details. You can be a great lover of lists, catalogs, and schedules. Feeling organized finds you at your happiest!

You possess a quiet charm, and once you have the chance to warm up to new people and situations, you have much to offer. In other words, it's worth the extra effort that people may need to put in to get to know you! You'll help people out of a jam, go out on a limb for others, and surprise them with a natural modesty hiding behind a somewhat critical and standoffish manner.

Tagging: @satans-helper @hansonobsessed @dufflesmckagan @dramaticjupiter

[rosemary-morgan]

Arthur Morgan X F.Reader: The shadows of my past - Part 1

Hello, dear ones ;) This time, I’ll bring you a new story. I hope you will like it. Please don´t be surprised if you find some grammatical mistakes. English is not my native language.

Part 2 / Part 3

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The shadows of my past - Part 1

It was early in the morning when Arthur woke up. The young man stretched out his tired limbs and yawned softly. The sun fell into the camp and it was nice to see the light shimmering between the trees and bushes. He greeted Dutch as he passed his tent. "Morning, Dutch! Everything good?" "Morning, son! Of course!" As usual, Dutch let his eyes wander over the whole camp. He watched closely how the family behaved at the camp, who behaved in what way. Arthur had known Dutch for twenty years now, but lately, his boss seemed to become paranoid. Well, a lot has happened in the group lately and Arthur knew who was responsible for all the stress and all the troubles. And not only Arthur was of that opinion. Others also shared his opinion on Micah Bell. It had been a mistake to include Micah in this gang. Dutch was in a position where it was important to know which people you could trust and whom you couldn´t trust, so Dutch has been very tense lately. He seems confused.

Arthur saddled his horse. He had decided to take a trip to Strawberry. The area of ​​Strawberry could offer a beautiful and peaceful nature and that was exactly what Arthur needed. Rest and relaxation. "Hey, girl! You alright, girl?" Arthur stroked his brown Arabian horse. She was very wild and it had taken a while to earn her trust, but now the two were a heart and a soul. And only Arthur was allowed to ride her. Micah had recently dared to sit on top of her and she immediately threw him in the dirt. That was exactly what Micah deserves. This guy respected neither human nor animal. "You´re hungry?" Arthur took a biscuit out of his saddlebag and fed his horse, caressing her through the mane. "How about a little walk?" Arthur left the camp with his horse and made his way to Strawberry. The weather was wonderful. The temperatures were very pleasant in the early morning and it was nice to feel the fresh air in his lungs. He just wanted to get out of the camp and enjoy the solitude of nature. The road to Strawberry was a long way, but that didn´t bother Arthur. He enjoyed the nature that surrounded him. The sound of singing birds and the sight of the deer, which quenched their thirst at the river. Arthur had to smile when he saw them. They were beautiful animals. But his trip took a very different and perhaps interesting turn. As he calmly led his horse towards Strawberry, he saw a young woman desperate to look for someone. Arthur became curious and decided to offer his help to the young woman.

"Joseph! Joseph! Where are you, my boy?!" You called desperately for your son. Where was this kid? You had told him to wait until you finished your housework. Why did Joseph just run out of the house without you? "Oh, that kid..." Desperately, you are stroking your hair and your eyes are longing for your son. Where was Joseph? Up here, a kid of his age shouldn´t just start running alone. This forest was huge and you could easily get lost. "Joseph!" You were afraid for him. Joseph was everything you had. "Miss?" You turn around in surprise when you hear a male voice behind you. Your luck, because maybe this man had seen your son. "Is everything okay, Miss? You need some help?", asked the young man sitting on a brown horse. Your eyes admired the magnificent animal, but also its rider was a blessing to your eyes. "Sir, did you see a little boy around here? He has brown, curly hair and he wears a blue shirt and brown pants." "No." Arthur got down from his horse and approached you. "Oh, God... Can you help me, please? My son just ran out of the house and I'm desperately looking for him. God! What if something happened to him?" With a heavy sigh, you stroke your hair again and your eyes are constantly scanning the surroundings. "Calm down, we'll find your son." You were very grateful that this man would help you to find your son. He was a stranger, but you had the feeling that you could trust him. And what other choice did you have? You wanted to find your son and this man might be able to help you with it. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Maybe in a place where he likes to be?" "Yes, a small creek, but I've been there several times. He wasn´t there!"

Arthur sighed softly and scratched the back of his head. He knew you were worried about your son. That was reasonable. "We'll find him! How long have you been looking for him?" "About half an hour but I'm not sure," you said, looking up at the man with concern. "Oh, God ... Joseph, Joseph, where are you, my boy?!" Abruptly you rush off and continue the search. Whether the stranger would help you or not, but you didn´t want to waste time talking. Your son Joseph was five years old and it was not difficult to get lost in this forest. Apart from the many dangers that could lurk here. Bear traps, wild animals... You got dizzy when you thought about it. You were sick with worry about your son and you were a very overprotective mother. Well, that had its reasons too.

Arthur hurried after you and searched with you for the missing boy. Arthur tried to find the boy by searching for traces. And actually, he found small footprints on the muddy ground. "I think I found a trace!", said Arthur and you were full of hope again. "Really?" You followed Arthur and not far away you hear something and you both followed the sound. It sounded like someone was crying and you start running when you realize that it was the voice of your son. "Joseph!" Arthur hurried after you. He didn´t want you to get lost in this forest too. "Wait!" But you didn´t stop and you came closer and closer to Joseph. When you saw him, you sigh in relief. "Thank God! Joseph!" He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree and he was crying. Your eyes were looking for visible injuries, but fortunately, there were no signs on his body. So Joseph doesn´t seem to be hurt. But he was afraid... "Joseph, my God, I´ve finally found you!" "Mummy!" Joseph jumped up from his place and ran into your arms, in the arms of his mother. "Joseph, why didn´t you waited for me?!" You had to nag him. You carefully grab Joesph by the arms and look sternly at him. "I told you not to walk around here by yourself!" "But mummy, I just wanted to play!", said Joseph and burst into tears. You sigh heavily and shook your head. Then you stroke Joseph through his curly, brown hair and pull him back into your arms, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Arthur kept his distance from you two and he smiled. He was glad that the boy was fine and Arthur was about to say goodbye to you, but you had other plans and hoped that the friendly stranger would accept your invitation. "Well, I'll go then." Arthur gave you a friendly nod as you turned to him with Joseph in your arms. "Please, wait a moment! I don´t even know your name." "Arthur Morgan." "Y/N Main.", You said and smiled friendly. It was your luck that you had met Arthur. "Mr. Morgan, I would like to invite you to dinner." Arthur scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. He was very flattered that such a pretty and young lady like you invites him to dinner. "And your husband wouldn´t mind?" Arthur assumed that you were married and so, he didn´t want to have dinner with you. That could lead to misunderstandings. Who knows how jealous your husband would become when his wife invited a stranger to dinner? He didn´t want to cause anyone any problems. "No, Mr. Morgan." You looked down sadly. "I'm a widow. It´s Miss Main." Well, these were your words. But there was far more behind your words. Another truth... "Oh, I-I'm sorry, Miss Main! I didn´t know... I, uh..." Arthur blushed a lot because that conversation was very unpleasant to him and you noticed that. Arthur hadn´t guessed that you were a widow and he didn´t mean to sting in any old or fresh wounds. But you don´t mind. You were not angry with him and you didn´t feel offended. "There is no need to apologize, Mr. Morgan.", you said, smiling gently to the man and you are still waiting for an answer. "My offer is still standing." "Well, ehm... Miss Main, I gladly accept your invite."

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You lived in a cozy little hut not far from Strawberry. You had a small herb and flower garden and you like to take care of your plants. It was a relaxing work and Joseph always helped you. Arthur felt very comfortable in your little house. It was cozy and very rustic. "I bought fresh meat from the butcher in Strawberry this morning, and I hope I cooked the meat well!" You said, bringing the hot pot to the covered table. With the smell of your stew, Arthur's stomach growled. It smelled so good. This was a nice alternative because Pearson's stew was... well, let's just say it like this: Arthur eats his stew just to avoid starving. Pearson's cooking skills were the purest disaster! "Joseph, stay calm! Or do you want Mr. Morgan to think you have no manners?" Joseph chuckled and put the napkin in the cutout of his shirt. "No, mummy!" The little boy sat next to Arthur at the table and he looked up at him with a smile. Arthur returned the child's smile and then looked up at you again. He watched as you filled his plate with the delicious stew. "Smells delicious, Miss!" You gave the charming guy a friendly smile before you filled Josephs's plate with the hot meal.

During dinner, Joseph asked many questions and Arthur didn´t want or couldn´t answer many of them. He couldn´t tell a child of his age all the adventures Arthur had experienced. Many secrets should be hidden. What could he already tell the boy? About heroic stories? But he hardly had any of them. Arthur had done many dishonorable things in his life and he was deeply ashamed. But Arthur told Jospeh some stories. Stories about nature and his harmless adventures.

You watch the two talking with each other and you were very pleased to see how happy Joseph was about your visitor. "Wow, Arthur, you're so cool, you're a real cowboy! Wow!" Arthur laughed softly and was delighted that the boy was so excited about his adventurous stories. But of course, Arthur hadn´t mentioned many passages in his past. That was just not a topic of conversation at a dining table and certainly not suitable for the ears of a child. Especially since he didn´t want to scare you. You shouldn´t have a bad impression of him. "When I grow up, I want to become a cowboy like you! Live an adventurous life, ride through the dusty desert with my friends, and shoot!" Arthur laughed when he heard that. Unfortunately, the life of a cowboy wasn´t as simple as Joseph imagines. To live as an outlaw was damn dangerous and it was a hard life. Constantly on the run from the law. He had lost many friends in recent years and he had seen many of them die. He had held their bleeding bodies in his arms and stood by them until their last breaths.  Arthur wasn´t a religious man, but sometimes a prayer came to his lips to honor his friends and asking Jesus not to let them suffer because of their pain and fear.

"Oh no, kid! You should do something decent when you grow up, like a lawyer or a teacher." "Ohhh... that's boring! I don´t want to sit at a desk all the time! I don´t want to be locked in. I want to be out in nature!" You and Arthur are laughing when Joseph said that. "Joseph, now let Mr. Morgan enjoy his dinner!" You said and took the water carafe to fill the glasses with. Arthur didn´t mind that Joseph asked him so many questions. But Joseph's way of laughing and the way he talked reminded him of his Isaac. His deceased son Isaac and Arthur had to admit that it was pretty hard to suppress the memories of his son. He knew that Joseph wasn´t Isaac and that what happened was a long time ago. But how could he forget his son? Or the mother of Isaac? Eliza... she had been so young when she was murdered.

These painful memories hit him and he had to swallow hard. He sank deep into old thoughts. The thoughts of his little son... how he had always been happy to see his father and how much he had loved him. Arthur closed his eyes for a moment and he kept wondering if he had ever been a good father. He saw Isaac's laughing face in front of him... and he also saw how sad he had been every time Arthur had to leave him again. No, he hadn´t been a good father. He had abandoned Isaac. He had regularly visited Eliza and Isaac, but... he couldn´t have been a real father to Isaac. This fact hurts a lot. He had failed as a father. Miserably failed and he hadn´t been there to save him and Eliza from dying. Tears burned into his eyes and he swallowed hard. He didn´t even hear you and Joseph talking to him. "Mr. Morgan?" Arthur was startled when he heard your voice and looked at you a bit confused. What did you say to him? "I just wanted to ask if you want some more of the stew?" You had seen that Arthur had been lost in his thoughts and you didn´t intend to disturb him. "No, Miss. Thank you." Arthur said softly and picked up the napkin, wiping his mouth with it. "I think I should go home now." Arthur gave you a friendly smile, but also a little sad.

Many of his memories were evoked in this house. Painful visions that he couldn´t endure right now. "Don´t you want to stay for dessert?" You enjoyed the company of Arthur and you didn´t want to be intrusive and hold Arthur here. "Another time, Miss Main." Arthur got up from his chair and smiled at you. "Please, call me Y/N." "Okay, Y/N: Well, thank you for your invite. The stew was delicious!" You were very happy with his words. "Nothing to thank for." You and Joseph accompanied Arthur to the door and before leaving the house he smiled at Joseph and Arthur tip his hat to you, To show you his respect and to say goodbye. "Miss." "Goodbye, Arthur. It was very nice to meet you and I would be very pleased to see you again soon", you said, smiling at the blonde man. You hope to meet him again soon. "Thanks, Y/N! It was a pleasure. I will definitely come back, Miss." So much kindness was not often to be expected these days and it pleased Arthur that you and your son received him so warmly.

"Bye, Arthur!! Come back soon!!" Joseph shouted as Arthur sat on his beautiful horse. Arthur gave you a friendly smile before heading home. "Come on, Joseph." You take Joseph by the hand and lead him back into the house. Soon it would be dark and for Joseph this was bedtime.

Like every night before going to sleep, you tell Joesph about fairy tales and cuddle with him until he falls asleep in your arms. But Joseph was so excited after Arthur's visit that he just didn´t want to sleep. "Arthur is so cool, mummy! I hope he comes back soon! " "Maybe. I don´t know, Joseph", you said, gently stroking his brown hair. Of course, you also hoped Arthur would visit you soon. He was a friendly person, but you saw something in him. He seemed to carry deep wounds. Emotional wounds. You had seen that in his eyes...

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The encounter with you and Joseph, Arthur just didn´t want to go out of his head. Of course, it had been a nice evening, because you and Joseph had been very friendly to him and he appreciated that very much. But many and painful memories were also evoked in Arthur and this hurt terribly. With a heavy sigh, Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of his son Isaac. He remembered how happy his son had been each time his father visited him. That was more important to Isaac than all the gifts Arthur had given him. "Oh, my son..."

His laugh, his angelic face... God, Arthur could still hear his laugh and it almost killed him. Tears were running down his cheeks and Arthur had to gasp hard to stop more tears. But he didn´t succeed.

>> Isaac... I wish I had been a better father to you! <<

Maybe he would still be alive today! Yes, maybe Arthur could have prevented this terrible crime to his son and Eliza.

Since that fateful day, a deep and festering wound rested deep in Arthur's soul that just didn´t want to heal, and he was convinced that it would never heal. Maybe it all happened because he was a bad person and committed many sins. As vengeance. He had taken many lives and fate had taken the lives of the people in his life. That´s the way things went and Arthur was convinced of that. A man like him doesn´t deserve any luck...

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"Careful, Joseph!" You were standing in the general store and paying for your purchase when Joseph curiously took everything into his hands. You look at the salesman in front of the apologetic, but the older man smiled friendly towards you. He didn´t seem to mind that Joseph was so curious. "Thanks, Sir." "Thank you, Miss. Goodbye!" You took the paper bag with the food and went to Joseph. "Come on, darling, we're going home now, and after lunch, let's go fishing, what do you think?" "Oh, yes, that sounds good mummy!" You smiled happily when Joseph grabs your hand and leaves the store with you. "It would be so nice if daddy could be here...", Joseph said suddenly and you stopped, looking down at him. He looked so sad and you were sorry. "Joseph..." You kneel to your son and you gently caress through his hair. He didn´t look at you and sobbed softly. "Hey..." Gently, you reach for his chin and raise his face so he looked at you. You smile at him and you kiss him on his forehead. "I know you miss Daddy, but... we have to accept what happened." It didn´t feel good to lie to your son, but you had your reasons and your son was never allowed to know about them. No way. His father wasn´t alive for Joseph, but you knew it better. You knew the truth about the father of your son... You try to reassure your son and pull him into your arms, stroking his back and you let Joseph cry. You were so sorry he had to grow up without a father, but in that case, it would be better if you kept Joseph away from his father. His father was a dangerous man...

to be continued...

[xfanfics]

Destiel Fic Rec List Part 5

Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity.  Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.

This part of the list contains: 32 fics.

Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].

 _____

Casturbatus Interruptus by gaugbrojotr E | 6k | Canon!verse, Hot, , PWP

post-9.01, in a slight AU wherein Cas comes to live with the Winchesters at the Bunker. Written before 9.03. Crossposting from Tumblr. Written for a prompt from hightopsandsharpies: "Okay, so Cas is a virgin, and has no idea what pleasure is and Dean decides to show him and Cas gets all cuddly and needy afterwards. Dean walks in on Cas masturbating. He’s doing it all wrong, but when you’re a bazillion-year-old virgin, that’s to be expected. Dean decides to lend him a hand in a totally platonic, non-romantic way. Things get a little out of control.

 that awkward moment when... by highermagic E | 7k | Hot, wing!Kink

All in all, with a full tank of gas and his radio turned up loud, Dean was in a pretty damn good mood. All that vanished into shock and concern when the sky lit up like daylight, as though someone had decided that black was so passé for nighttime.

 This Temporary Flesh and Bone by misachan E | 5k | Canon!verse, h/c, wing!kink

Castiel doesn't serve Dean, fine, Dean has no problem with that - he just wants to know why Castiel's showing up in his dreams again.

What a fabulous little Fic. Very emotional. S4 cas is my FAVORITE.

 Only Fools Rush In by baka_sensei E | 18k | Canon!verse, soulbond

Dean does something and in angelic tradition that means he's become Castiel's fiancé. Dean doesn't know if he wants to get married, but he doesn't want to let Castiel down either. Cas lets his feelings run away with him, Gabe is a total dick, Sam is concerned, and Dean has to make a choice.

 Learning Curve by blualbino T | 1k | Fluff, Canon!verse

Cas has nice lips. They’re soft looking. Plush even. Dean can do this.

 Dinner At Katz's by nanoochka E | 2k | Hot, canon!verse

Dean might have to teach Cas how to have a When Harry Met Sally-esque orgasm, but he certainly doesn’t have to fake it.

 Free With His Hands by watermaline E | 2k | canon!verse, handprint!kink

The first time it happens, Dean chalks it up to…well, he doesn’t chalk it up to anything, he’s too busy coming his brains out in his jeans with Castiel’s hand on his shoulder.

 Desecrate that Sanctuary by brokentoy E | 3k | Hot, Alt!Canon Verse

Dean develops a fascination with Cas' bones.

 What Once Was Sacred by saltandbyrne E | 55k |  Hot,  AU, Cop Dean, DJ Cas

Los Angeles detective Dean Winchester works tirelessly to atone for the sins of his father one case at a time. When his best friend Charlie drags him to visit Sam at his new job, Dean stumbles onto a bizarre string of deaths that brings him uncomfortably close to his past.Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel, an enigmatic DJ who plays the sexiest music Dean's ever heard. A chance encounter at Castiel's house reveals that Castiel is an incubus, and Dean must face the lies and the reality of his childhood as a hunter. Dean comes to see that he and Castiel have more in common than he thought, and that guilt can be the hardest thing to cast aside.

Freefall by LastKnownWriter E | 128k | Hot, Fluff,  AU, Teacher Dean, Firefighter Cas

AU. The most exciting kindergarten teacher Dean Winchester's life ever gets is when he plays mechanic in his uncle Bobby's shop on the weekends. That is until a birthday party goes tequila-nova and he trips into a one-night stand with an incredibly hot firefighter named Castiel. Dean's life gets a lot more exciting after that.

 The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass ❤ by ireallyhatecornnuts E | 110k | Hot,  Fluff,  HS AU but not really,

AU after Season 8, episode 6, "Southern Comfort." Dean goes to sleep in a motel room in Texarkana, and he wakes up 17 years old, in his childhood bedroom in Lawrence, Kansas, 1996. He has no idea how he got there, why his parents are still alive, why his brother is an adorable freshman with no memory of his adult life, and why the only ally he has in this place is the angel he left behind in Purgatory – somehow also 17 years old. They have to get out, that's the important thing. Only, falling in love with his angel wasn't a part of the plan....

It's like a HS AU... but better! I love how Dean is given a second chance at growing up, and Cas gets to engage with his humanity is painfully familiar ways. Some homophobia from non-central characters.    

 deus ex nihilo by Valyria E | 7k | AU, dubcon, god cas

Lost on an uncharted island, Dean Winchester is captured by the local villagers and offered up as a sacrifice to their winged god. Castiel takes one look at Dean and decides he wants him for a mate.

 Twist and Shout ❤ by gabriel E | 97k | Angst,  AU, Main Character Death

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

Do I really need to say anything? Twist and Shout is one of my favorites simply because it made me bawl. Didn't love the characterization, but I still liked it overall.

Carry On ❤ by TamrynEradani E | 148k | Hot,  AU, Sub!dean, Dom!Cas

 When Sam gets into Stanford, Dean needs a bigger paycheck than Bobby's garage can give him. Luckily, he knows a guy.

Forget 50 Shades of Grey, they should make this fic into a movie! Even if you are not a fan of Sub!Dean, give this fic a shot, because it is nearly perfect.    

Glasses by Samanthapin E | 9k | Fluff, High School AU, punk!cas, nerd!dean

Teasing turns flirting turns dating turns grossly soppy boyfriends

 beer and bacon happy hour by outpastthemoat G | 2k | canon!verse, s8

The problem is that Dean’s been having good ideas all night. “No one insults the trenchcoat,” Dean says, and drives his fist into the other dude’s face. Dean figures he was bound to run out of good ideas eventually.

 Hard Road ❤ by aleishapotter E | 54k | Canon!verse

Dean discovers a few truths about himself when he and Cas are forced to go undercover on a hunt to the very last place Dean ever thought he'd find himself: a gay resort called "Last Hope" that is geared towards helping troubled homosexual couples repair their relationships. This fic is hilarious and hot--my favorite things.  

 Dean Smith Verse by TamrynEradani E | 17k | Hot,  BDSM, AU, Sub!Dean

Dean Smith is a man of routine. Castiel takes him apart.

Bratishka: Little Brother by Valyria E | 33k | Cop AU, Cop Dean, Lawyer Cas

Dean thinks he knows pretty much everything there is to know about his best friend Castiel Novak - he's a smart, gorgeous DA who probably lets Dean get away with more than he should to see the bad guy locked up - but it turns out Cas is hiding some dark family secrets.

 the way to a man's heart by mkhunterz M | 15k | Fluff,  Canon!verse

Dean teaches Cas to cook, and other things as well.

 Branded by garrisonbabe E | 12k | | canon!verse, soul bond, marking/claiming

Michael mocked Castiel, telling him he'd never get Dean the way he truly wanted. No matter the mark on Dean's soul, he'd never get him the way the archangel could take him. Dean finds a ritual that fixes that and a few other issues.

 Our Bodies, Posessed by Light by obstinatrix E | 39k | canon!verse, sastiel bromance, Fluff

Purged of all his souls, Castiel is a changed being, stronger than an angel and too powerful for Jimmy's body to contain. Happily, there's an archangel's vessel on hand, and he could use fixing, too. Dean isn't too happy about the idea of his brother acting as a vessel for Castiel, and Sam can guess why, but it isn't until Castiel gets inside his head and they learn to share the vessel -- and their thoughts -- that Sam realises Cas is as in love with Dean as Dean is with him. It's unfortunate that there's nothing much to be done about it now, but Castiel will get another vessel soon. The Winchesters will make damn sure of that. In the meantime, it's up to the three of them to establish their own strange accord, and Dean realises more fully than ever that it's Castiel, and not his vessel, that he loves.

 So Glad We Made It  ❤by scaramouche M | 16k | Fluff,  AU

At twelve years old, Dean makes a friend, who becomes his best friend, who will eventually become the love of his life.    

Oh, the best friends who grow up together AU. I have a soft spot for fics like these-- comes with pining, awkward misunderstandings, and a good basis for a realistic relationship.

 Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) ❤ by kototyph E | 23k | Fluff,  college au

Dean's done some pretty stupid things, but getting drunk-hitched in Vegas to a colleague he barely knows might just take the cake. His surprise husband, Castiel, is a little weird but likable despite that, and Dean figures they’ll go back to Boston, get a quiet annulment, and go their separate ways. Six weeks later, he’s still married to one of the strangest, most genuine and definitely most dangerously lov-- likable guys he's ever known. Dean doesn't know why or really even how it’s happening, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he has divorce papers to file.

FLUFF EVERYWHERE! This is definitely a feel-good fic and I love reading it when I'm sad. Or just you know, whenever.

 But the Fire is So Delightful by kototyph E | 5k | Hot, hate then love, College AU

Apparently, it’s been snowing all day. [Dean is a Douchebag Fratboy with a Cherry Ass, Castiel is Angry and Aroused]

 Stitches by askance T | 23k |  Fluff, h/c, blindness, Canon!verse

Castiel survived Leviathan--but only barely. Vessel mauled and eyes destroyed, Cas is barely clinging to what's left of his grace when Dean finds him naked and alone on the reservoir's edge; in a panic, Dean brings him home to the cabin where he and Sam have been holed up off the grid. What follows is the slow process of the angel's recovery and the unexpected changes that come with his being blind, and in the three months this takes, their little family slowly begins to patch itself back together in forgiveness, love, and darkness.

 When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone E | 25k | Fluff,  canon!verse

Charlie is back in all her glory. The Winchesters have showed up on her doorstep and she’s making the best of it the only way she knows how. By being the little sister Dean never wanted and shipping the shit out of Destiel.

The Life After the Morning After by saltyfeathers T | 17k

Dean and Cas get uber drunk on their last day of University. They end up married. Neither of them seem to mind.

The Girlfriend Experience ❤ by Rageprufrock E | 15k | Hot,  Canon!Verse, First time

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

Classic Casturbation fic. Complete with steamy sexytimes, hilarious dialogue, and fed up and clueless Dean. Perfect.    

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built by MajorEnglishEsquire T | 14k | Canon!Verse, s8

Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters. One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number. (They speak in the language of need.)

Cowboys and Real Estate Angels by almaasi E | 36k | AU

Castiel crosses paths with the ever-charming Dean Winchester at a rodeo show in Texas, of all places. Dean's singing days are long bygone, but his crowd-pleasing skills haven't waned one iota. Unexpectedly, Castiel finds himself in Dean's bedroom; they take and they give, and discover that sometimes strangers can find love like this, too. (And if a man's faith can't be put in God, it needs to go somewhere...)

[hailene]

Perfect Imperfection (2)

Perfect Imperfection| part two

Characters: Jaemin x female lead, Chenle x female lead (the girl will go by the name of Aeri)

Genre: fluff, angst, writer!au, highschool!au

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: Aeri is the teenager who writes. Finding inspiration in anything surrounds her, her ideas go wild once she meets the perfect character, Na Jaemin. As a writer becomes obsessive with their favourite character, Aeri grows a weird passion for the bright boy. However, she's so focused on painting Jaemin as perfectly as possible, that she ignores the furry of fiery hair that takes her to night walks and shows her secret places around the town. Despite knowing everything, she forgets that playing with fire means getting burnt. And that sometimes, when we remember to stop, it's too late.

part one》part two》part three

I knock at the front door and wait patiently for somebody to open it. The small chance that Chenle has already read my notebook was bothering me deep down and all that I wanted was to have my stories back.

I hear footsteps approaching the door and a few seconds later, it opens.

"He-..."

And Jaemin looks at me surprised.

"...y." I whisper, still stunned by the sutuation. "And sorry for bothering you, I must've got the wrong address."

Lee Donghyuck, you little piece of shi-...

"Hey, Aeri!" He smiles. "Come in, you're not bothering me."

"It's really just a misunderstanding, I'll leave so-..."

"No, really, come in. Do I not deserve an explanation at least?" He asks on a serious tone but smiles warmly.

I sigh and follow him inside. His house was far from being something you’d call “too much”. It looked cosy and warm, spacious enough and it looked like it would smell like baked cookies on a Saturday evening. However, it was lacking something, it made me feel like I shouldn’t be here.

Well, of course, I really shouldn’t be here, but-...

"So what brings you in Nana land?" He asks, closing the door behind me.

I smile as I take my shoes off.

"Nana land?" I ask as he passes by me, heading towards the room in front of us which looked like a kitchen.

"My house, of course." He says, turning to look at me. "Would you like to drink something? I have water, coffee, tea-..."

"Water is fine." I nod, trying to make things as easy as possible for him.

But realising the only one who's having a hard time is me.

He brings me a glass of water, gesturing me to follow him into the room next to the kitchen, the living room. It was pretty decorated, neat and it really reminded me of Jaemin somehow.

"Story time!" He beams while sitting on the sofa, looking at me.

I give him a confused glance before realizing what he's talking about. I sit in an armchair across from him and clear my throat.

"So I bumped into one of my classmates today and we accidentally took each other's notebook... and I need mine so I wanted to pay him a visit. I asked my friend Donghyuck to send me his address... because he 's good at this stuff, but he, hopefully accidentally, sent me yours."

Jaemin chuckles. My hurts twirls.

"I haven't known Lee Donghyuck for too long but I don't think it was by accident." He smiles.

I sigh.

"You're right... I should've known that he's gonna prank me again." I say and Jaemin gives me a small smile.

"Again?"

"Yeah... we've been friends ever since we were in primary school... and he barely misses any chance to make me regret it." I say, shrugging.

"I wish I could be friends for somebody that long..." he sighs and I look at him confused.

But before I can say anything, my phone rings. I excuse myself and pull it out from the pocket of my jeans, only to see Jeno's name displayed on the screen.

"What is it, loser?" I ask after sliding the green button.

"Aeri, we kinda... uhm, something happened and we might kinda... need you to get us out... of the police station?"

"You might kinda need me to what?" I say incredulous.

"Please, pretty please!" I hear my bestfriend asking in despair. "I promise to explain all of this later, I-..."

"You better." I sigh. "I'm on my way."

I end the call and stand up, Jaemin following suit, looking at me confused.

"Is there anything wrong?" He asks me on a concerned tone.

"Just my friends going to jail, you know, the basic." I laugh my anger away. "I'm so so incredibly sorry, Jaemin, I promise to make up for this soon-..."

"Don't worry about this." He says putting on a jacket. "I'm not gonna let you walk alone at this hour anyway."

I look at him stunned as he makes his way to the entrance door.

"Let's go!" He says and for a second, I feel like his smile might shine brighter than the sun.

***

I find Jeno and Hyuck sitting at one of the desks in the police main office, looking at the policeman in front of them with puppy eyes. However, he was oblivious to their miserable gazes, as he was writing something that I assumed was a report.

"Lee Jen-..."

"Guys?"

I turn around and I find my classmate looking at us bewildered, his bright orange hair ruffled, strongly contrasting with his dark clothes. He looked like he had been running to get here and I can only imagine the reason why this weird combination of humans were here tonight at the police station.

I close my eyes and sigh.

"It's time for the explanation, boys." I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Are you the owner of the house?" The police officer asks, ignoring me.

"Which house-..."

"I am." Chenle says behind me and both me and Jaemin turn to him bewildered.

I frown and turn to my friends, rage taking over me.

"Okay what the hell did you do?" I ask.

"They broke into a house, but the security alarm went off and they were caught by one of our equipage." The police officer says while gathering the papers. He looked young, young enough to seem amused by the whole situation.

However, I was pretty much stupefied.

"You what?" I ask on a higher pitch than my usual voice.

"We really didn't mean any harm, we-..."

"Save whatever you have to say for the juries, this kid shall press charges against-..."

"I won't!" Chenle jumps near us. "I won't, this has all been a misunderstanding, we'll sort it out."

"Are you sure, kid?" The police officer asks Chenle incredulously and the boy nods his head firmly.

"Yes, there's really no need of any paper or such... we'll figure it out!" He says.

The police officer looks at him confused for a few seconds before sighing and waving his hand tiredly.

"Fine, I guess." He says, before turning to Jeno and Donghyuck. "You two are free to go now... try not to get in trouble from now on, though."

My friends nod their heads and thank the police officer while standing up. The man waves them off and returns to his papers. He looked too young to be imagined eating donuts like the cops in movies but I couldn’t get over at how funnily unbothered he seemed to be by the whole situation.

"Hey, kid, I need you to sign some papers." The man tells Chenle and he hurries to his desk.

***

"So what was all of that about?" I ask, anger taking over me.

"We felt bad for telling you the wrong address so we thought we could get your notebook-..."

"By breaking into Chenle's house?" I interrupt Jeno. "I can't believe you did that, guys, that's-..."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Hyuck says. "I really am, I didn't mean to go this far, I swear."

"I can imagine you didn't plan to end up at the police station."

I turn around as I suddenly hear footsteps behind me and my eyes meet Chenle's fiery hair. I step towards him, my heart beating fast, full of anxiety.

"Chenle, I'm so so incredibely sorry-..."

"There's nothing you should apologize for." He gives me a small smile before looking at Hyuck and Jeno. "I'm sure you guys had a good reason for breaking into my house."

He wasn't mad. He seemed actually amused. He looked like he knew this was only a misunderstanding, like he knew there was nothing he should be worrying about.

Donghyuck explained him the situation, with a rare serious expression on his face. Chenle was slightly nodding here and there, signaling that he was understanding the situation, slowly but surely lifting the weight from my heart.

"So that's why. We're so sorry, we-..."

"That's alright, don't worry." Chenle waved it off before turning towards me. "Would you like get your notebook tonight, or can it wait until tomorrow?"

I shift awkwardly.

"I would be really thankful if I could get it tonight." I say and he nods.

"Let's go then."

***

Jeno, Donghyuck and Jaemin have gone home, leaving Chenle and I alone and if it weren't for the events that had occured tonight, I swear I wouldn't and couldn't have felt as awkward as I feel right now. We walk in silence, Chenle probably sensing my nervousness and deciding not to say a word the whole time.

When we arrive in front of his house- an actual big ass villa, I must say- I decide to speak.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

He nods, tapping some sort of code on the entrance door. There was no secret that Zhong Chenle was one of the richest kids in town, but all the fanciness that he was living in still amazed me all the time, mostly because he almost never acted like a rich kid, or the way people think usual rich kids act like.

"Have you maybe... read my notebook or something?" I ask.

"I haven't." He says, opening the door for me. "Why would I?"

I shrug as he leaves the hall, probably going to get my notebook. Everything around me was bright and clean, warm lights shining and giving me a strong feeling of home, despite the fact that I have never ever stepped foot into this house.

"Here." He says, handing me the notebook and making me flinch as I wasn't aware of his return.

"Thanks." I say. "And I'm so sorry, once again, for everything."

Chenle waves it off.

"That's alright, really." He smiles. "Anyways I guess all of tonight's events might be a great source of inspiration for you, right?"

I look at him confused.

"Yeah, I... guess?" I say.

"Such a shame they didn't get to break in the house of your perfect character, that would've been way-..."

"YAH ZHONG CHENLE!" I suddenly speak- or better said scream. "You said you hadn't read it!"

He steps back defensively, but he looked rather amused than scared.

"I haven't. I just happened to have seen some lines." He smiles.

"Yah, you... you..." I stutter. "Yah Chenle..."

I sigh and he chuckles.

"You have to pretend you have never seen anything from between these covers, okay?" I say on a serious tone and he laughs. "I'm being serious, Chenle!"

"Okay, okay, fine." He smiles and I sigh once again.

"Promise me." I say and he raises his hands defensively.

"I promise." Chenle says. "Your lines are safe with me."

He gestures zipping his mouth and throwing the key away and I smile.

"But Na Jaemin is really lucky."

"Yaaah!" I cry and he laughs loudly, making a strong feeling of annoyance grow in my heart. And something more.

***

I was sitting on the bleachers with Renjun and Yeji, waiting for the try-outs to start. Jeno and Donghyuck were standing on the edge of the basketball court, throwing enthusiastic smiles here and there to the boys who wanted to get in the team. Jaemin was sitting on the ground patiently, making small talk with some other kids that unlike him, seemed teriffied. He was giving off warm vibes and self-confidence, the kind that makes somebody even more attractive than they already are. It was an orange Thursday sunset, the time of the day that was my personal favourite because it made me feel inspired. I was barely holding back from pulling out my notebook and sketching a few writing aesthetics on its pages.

We weren't the only ones who'd come to watch the try-outs, but maybe we were the most relevant ones, because the biggest part of the people sitting in the bleachers were fangirls of the basketball team, mostly Jeno’s, Jisung’s and Donghyuck's, as always. Jisung and I weren't that close, he was the kind of kid who was your friend's friend and who would probably help you if you ever needed him. But we didn't have any kind of common interests or anything of that kind, which was basically pretty weird for me. Ever since I started writing, I have tried to get closer to people of all kind, mostly because socializing and dealing with real events inspired me but kept me mentally steady as well. It's never been his case. He was nice, attractive even, probably too attractive for his own good and a great friend to Jeno. But that was it about it.

I guess some humans simply don't click. I've figured in time it's alright to be neutral regarding some people, it's alright to have a good impression about them but to choose to admire them from afar.

Yeji was communicating through gestures with Jeno and I was barely holding back my laughter at Jeno's terrible skills in this field. When I first met Yeji, I had this weirdly good feeling about her, as if she belonged in my story. And I realized why when I saw her sitting quietly on the edge of the basketball court on a Friday evening, watching my bestfriend as if he put the stars in the sky.

Comparing to my relationship with Jisung, Renjun and I are way closer. I could never find a specific reason for this, though, so I came up with the conclusion that some people will click with you and some won't, without any particular reason. Unlike any of my friends, Renjun doesn't hang out with me regularly. Weeks can go by without us seeing each other, but we're always coming back as if we have never been apart. He's the first person I would show my pieces of writing to, if I ever decided to show them to someone. I trust him a lot, because unlike kids our age, he is considerate and mature.

A mess of fiery hair distracts me from my thoughts and I don't have squint my eyes to realize it's none other than Zhong Chenle. Despite his simple appearance, a loose black t-shirt and basketball shorts, everybody was looking at him. It was no secret Zhong Chenle was rich and the number of people who wanted to befriend him just because of that wasn't little, but he didn't seem to care. He never did. His signature amused smile made its way up to his lips and I couldn't help but smile too. It was contagious, his brightness could literally light up the night, even though few took their time to realize this. We've grown up with this weird idea that rich people will always play behind you and know how to play with you. But the ones who have met Zhong Chenle know now better than to believe those stories. And I'm glad I'm one of those people too.

Chenle spots Jaemin and a his smile widens, his pace picking up in order to get faster next to the older boy. I watch them, without being able to hear their conversation, to my disappointment. I didn't know they were close or at least close enough to make Chenle run to Jaemin like that.

Wait...

What if Chenle tells him about my notes about him?

I feel my world suddenly stoping at the thought and my pulse accelerating.

But he promises not to.

Still.

I try to shake off this uneasy feeling, but to no avail.

Shortly after Chenle came, the try-outs began and each of the wanna-be members had to pass their test. No matter how many boys were trying to pass, none of them could come close to Jaemin, who went among the first ones and who visibly impressed everybody. Chenle went the last. However, as soon as his test started, Jaemin suddenly came on the second place. There was something about Chenle, about the way he was dribbling the ball, the way he was running on the court, as if he owned the place and he knew every square inch of it. There was some kind of crazy smile on his lips, weirdly scarry.

"Is he even real?" I hear Yeji whispering next to me and all I can do is stare in awe without saying a word.

An antagonist.

He'd be the perfect one.

I shiver and try to wave away my thoughts, simply focusing on the boy running in front of us, the ball in his hands looking like it was part of him.

By the end of the evening, the basketball team has gained 4 new members, Jaemin and Chenle being two of them.

We wait until the fangirls and fanboys leave so we can go and congratulate everybody. There was some sort of aura around the new basketball team, it felt right. Something about the way the sunset coloured their appearance in orange made them seem like the perfect fit. I couldn't tell exactly why though. It was just like that.

"Congratulations! All of you were amazing!" Yeji beams as we get near the boys.

Jeno looks at her with his signature smile on his lips and a glint that seemed to belong only to Yeji in his eyes. The new guys thank her, wide and genuine smiles plastered on their faces. I look at Jaemin and Chenle who were standing right next to Jeno and I can't help but smile at the overflowing excitement that their smiles give off. Pretty much like water and fire, they seemed harmonious together, but they were different. I wanted them to be different.

This can turn out so well.

By the time the sun completely sets, we decide we should go and celebrate, in the honour of the new basketball team. When we get ready to leave the court, the ghost of a deep worry makes me stay behind and wait for the fiery-haired boy.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" I ask and my voice comes out in an almost-whisper.

He looks at me surprised, but not confused.

"I didn't." He says, making me release a deep sigh of relief. "And I will never. Don't worry."

He gives me a small smile but if I hadn't been so distracted by his assurance, I would've probably noticed it wasn't a genuine one.

***

The sound of the raindrops hitting the windows was calming me down, alongside the hot chocolate in front of me. Summer has been forgotten in a short amount of time as the cold weather made us finally understand there was no going back and it was autumn now.

This is one of the few days when Renjun hangs out with us, making me feel more at peace with myself. After their basketball trainment, Jeno had this idea of hanging out together in our favourite coffee shop. Donghyuck was sick, but Yeji, Renjun and I came along instead. We were sitting like this on one side of the table, Jeno, Jaemin and Chenle sitting on the other. It wasn't the first time we hung out like this, but it was, maybe, the time I was going to remember the best out of all.

I was carefully typing out ideas in the notes of my phone, stealing glances at the hazelnut-haired boy from time to time. The first thing that I notted was his drink, a venti Iced Americano with 2.5 extra shots of espresso, drink that was probably darker than the depths of hell, but which, by the look on Jaemin's face, he adored. Yeji laughed at him, wondering how he's going to sleep at night after drinking that, but he shruged it off with a smile.

Despite the fact that his drink is insanely bitter, he's just so sweet.

I note other small details on my phone, trying not to be too obvious. The only people that knew about my intentions at that table were Chenle and I and he promised me he won't tell anybody so my secret was safe. However, I could feel his gaze on me as I was typing and I tried to ignore it. He wasn't that annoying after all.

There was something about Jaemin's aura that was bothering me though. He was just too bright. There wasn't any dark side of him, excluding the pitch black coffee that he was enjoying so much. And I was constantly thinking about how this boy can be so kind and sweet all the time.

He couldn't.

There had to be something about him that I hadn't found out yet, something that made him less perfect and more human. Because there is no such thing as angels on earth, even though he surely seemed to be one.

Yeji gets me out of my deep thoughts by snapping her fingers in front of my eyes, making me flinch awkwardly, Jeno and Jaemin chuckling slightly.

"Is Aeri not your name?" She asks. "Thought we were friends, still you haven't even told me your real name."

I smile and shake my head.

"We were talking about the writing contest," she explains "have you talked to mrs. Kang after all? Will you be judging?"

I nod.

"I have and yes, I will be one of the judges." I say smiling. "This is so awesome, I still can't believe she thought about this and proposed me to be part of the jury."

"You're really talented, no wonder why she did such thing." Renjun says in his calming tone and I smile, engulfing the half-filled mug with my hands.

"Yeah, we'd probably know that too if she ever let us read whatever she writes." Jeno rolls his eyes but smiles afterwards. "I still can't believe she trusts you more than she trusts me..."

"It's not about trust, for the 100th time, Jennie." I say annoyed and Yeji chuckles at Jeno's nickname.

"You always say that." His words are hurt, but he looks calm. I know he's just trying to make me feel guilty when deep down he understood long ago why I barely ever show a piece of my writing to him or to Hyuck or to anybody else excluding Renjun.

"When her books will be out for the world, you'll see it all, don't worry." Jaemin says, patting Jeno's back and making me chuckle.

We've had a few encounters by now and he's come to know how passionate I was about writing. He didn't push it though and that was just another reason for me to like him.

"I don't know." I shake my head smiling. "We'll see about that."

"Aeri, I would seriously kill to figure out what goes on in your head sometimes." Yeji jokes and I smile, but I feel myself faking it.

"You don't wanna know." I whisper.

"I do." She says and I look at her for a few seconds before shaking my head.

"She would never let you know, though." Renjun smiles.

"Actually," Chenle says, looking at his cappuccino as if he could foreses the future in the creamy liquid. "we usually let the others know a lot of things about us.”

He smiles. Killer.

“It's just the others that don't pay enough attention to figure it out." he continues.

I look at him, breath hitching in my throat but he seems unphased. He has just said that basically, I'm an open book for the ones who know how to read.

Fear creeps up through me as I realize that despite the fact that he promised he wouldn't tell anybody about my notebook, he will never drop it and will forever use whatever he read in there in a way to make me feel like an outcast. Like I owe him something.

I feel tears threatening to roll on my cheeks and I lower my head so nobody can see the water pooling in my eyes.

Don't cry, honey. Why did we have to switch our notebooks, why did he have to read mine and know how impossibly interested I am in Na Jaemin and everything regarding him?

I excuse myself from the table and go to the restroom in order to wipe the tears away. There's some kind of fissure in my thoughts, as once I lost my notebook, things got out of hand and I didn't have control over the situation anymore. I try to imagine that all this anxiety could be washed away like my tears, with cold water. But it's hard to ease the heaviness when it's all that I can feel.

"I should get going." I say once I return to my friends and take my backpack.

They look at me and I see the sudden change in the mood as if they've sensed my small breakdown.

"Then let's leave together," Yeji says standing up and taking her bag as well. The boys follow us outside and we stop for a second in order to figure out who and which way they're going. Usually, Jeno, Renjun and I go home together, but tonight, Jeno had to take care of his little cousins and Renjun had to visit Hyuck in order to give him his notes for the week as he has missed classesq. Yeji was living in some other neighbourhood and Jaemin said he had to take the bus to get home. Therefore, fortunately or not, I was left alone with Zhong Chenle.

"Don't you have to get home?" I ask after Renjun waves us goodbye, being the last one out of my friends to leave.

Chenle shrugs.

"Wouldn't it be rude of me to let you walk alone?"

"Not really." I sigh.

"I'm still going to do it though." He says and I shrug.

After a few seconds of silence, he continues:

"Actually, there's a reason I wanted to walk with you." He says before turning his head towards me.

He gives me one of his killer smiles and for a split second, I feel myself able to do anything. For him.

"Follow me."

A/N: Hello! There is just one part left, what are your premonitions :D?

hailene x

[mayuuunaise]

fic: pretty in punk

a/n: i pounded out roughly 5000+ words instead of making lesson plans :’))) it was so fun and easy to write though!! post s02e05

fandom: b-project: koudou ambitious read on: ao3 | under the cut

Truthfully, Tsubasa is immensely grateful that her fretting and worrying is all due to one big misunderstanding on both of their parts. Though, she is a tad bit concerned and equal parts guilty of contributing to said misunderstanding via misconceived expectations in the first place.

Yuuta tells her it’s fine; it’s nice to have a half-day off playing with the other boys after all. It’s not often their schedules and off days line up so perfectly. Tsubasa should know this, considering how much she spends time looking at spreadsheets and calendar apps just to make sure she can make it through the day without splicing her body in half over simultaneous schedules. Still, she can’t shake off that hint of disappointment in Yuuta’s usual cheer that has set her on edge for the duration of the work day.

It’s the pink-haired idol’s turn to record, and while Kaneshiro is busy making adjustments to the song arrangement, she takes the chance to gather information from his other teammate.

“Aizome-san, excuse me,” Tsubasa gingerly sits at the edge of the sofa, in between the other two members. “Do you mind if I asked you something?”

Aizome sends her one of his usual sly smiles, the one where the corner of his mouth twitches just so. “Is it for a date? Because I would say yes in a heartbeat.”

“What— no, err,” Tsubasa clears her throat and shifts awkwardly in her seat. Aizome seems quick on the uptake because he trades in his amused grin for a softer expression as he tilts his head to the side and chuckles. After a year of working with him, Tsubasa really should know better. Shaking off the flush from her cheeks, she leans a little closer to the idol. “Actually, well, it’s about Yuuta-kun.”

“Talking about another man really isn’t my style, Tsubasa-chan.”

“I just, well, I’m wondering if Yuuta-kun is that big of a fan of Justice Hoover?” She deliberately ignores Aizome’s comments and presses on, fiddling with her cellphone. “If I knew, I would have — err… I mean, Shuuji-san would definitely bring back a souvenir if we asked, right? Yuuta-kun just looked…really disappointed, I want to make it up to him.”

Aizome blinks slowly at her before barking out a short laugh, quickly covering it with the back of his hand. His bright blue eyes dart to the young man in question asking for one more run through of his own solo lines in the recording booth. Tsubasa doesn’t quite understand, but she feels as if she should be a little embarrassed, though is hesitant to ask Aizome if there’s anything wrong with what she’s saying.

Two misunderstandings in one day is clearly enough.

“It’s not really about Justice, and really he’s not as upset as he seems,” Aizome starts. “Though, I guess a part of him is just happy enough that you’re not going to the concert with someone else.”

“Please don’t tease me like that, Aizome-san…”

“Who says I am?” Aizome leans a little closer to her, and Tsubasa can almost take a whiff of the rose-scented conditioner he most probably used after the soccer game. Instinctively, Tsubasa leans back, her spine a little straighter as she prepares herself for another one of the blue-haired idol’s flirty banter. “I’m not afraid to say I’m very happy you’re not going on a date in a VIP room for some foreigner’s live concert.”

“Aizome-san…” Tsubasa trails off before pouting. There’s a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach already telling her that the male isn’t willing to divulge everything so easily. “But I still want to make it up to him. I mean, part of the whole futsal match was because I said something that led to expectations.”

“Tsubasa-chan, it’s not your fault and you know it.” Aizome assures her, a soft smile playing on his lips. Yuuta is almost at the end of his solo parts of THRIVE’s latest song, and Tsubasa feels that this isn’t really something she can freely talk about when the boy in question can actually hear it.

“But still, isn’t there’s something I can do?”

“I’m sure if it’s you, anything would be okay, Tsubasa-chan.” Aizome whispers with a smile that tells her he’s being vague on purpose. The older man expertly shifts the topic immediately when Yuuta steps out of the recording booth, excitedly asking them why they looked so cosy while he’s been hard at work recording his parts over and over again. Tsubasa doesn’t really understand, but Aizome sends her a wink over Yuuta’s shoulders, which only sends the pink-haired young man into another hyperactive frenzy. Kaneshiro has to raise his voice in the recording booth for the both of them to stop fooling around, it’s so distracting sheesh.

Tsubasa asks other people, like Aizome later suggests, but ends up with vague answers that leave her a little more confused than usual. She figures that the person closest to Yuuta aside form his teammates is Ryuuji, but the younger boy simply refuses to give him any more info than is strictly necessary.

“Shouldn’t you figure that out yourself?” Ryuuji pops another bubblegum flavoured chupa chuls in his mouth, waiting for Kitakado to return from hair and makeup. Tsubasa wonders briefly if she should be counting how many lollipops the idol actually consumes in a day, and if she should be mildly worried about it even, but brushes the thought away when Ryuuji narrows his pretty fuchsia eyes at her. As if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and he’s having none of it.

“But, I’ve been trying to think about it properly myself, and nothing came up.” Tsubasa sighs, flipping through her phone’s note sections to check on what else KitaKore needs before their music video shoot. She shouldn’t really be complaining in front of him, it’s entirely too unprofessional. Ryuuji’s incredibly blunt personality makes it easier for her to open up and be honest though. “And Yuuta-kun really has been working very hard lately. I wanted to do something for his efforts.”

“Are you saying we aren’t working as hard as he is?” Ryuuji points the frosty pink sphere of candy near her nose in what seems to be a menacing manner, though the scent of sweet bubblegum fills her nostrils and dispels the dread from the pit of her stomach.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never—”

Ryuji chortles a little bit, before popping the chupa chuls back into his mouth. “I’m kidding. But you’re lucky I was the one who heard that, the other groups might not be as forgiving you know? Nor would they be as generous—they’d be scrambling to get a reward from you as well.” Ryuuji smirks and leans back against the cushions, obviously enjoying how much discomfort he’s giving her at the wall she’s just backed herself into. “But— I do agree, Yuuta has been working himself to the bone lately. Are you praising him that much, Tsubasa-chan?”

“That’s not—”

“Korekuni-kun, Kitakado-san is ready for the group take. You’re needed on set in five!” A staff member cuts them short, popping her head in the dressing room and tapping the watch on her wrist for emphasis. Tsubasa calls out an affirmative almost immediately. Ryuuji sighs and stands up, toying with the lollipop stick in his mouth as he mutters something about ruining his fun.

“Well, when it comes down to it, you’ll know what he wants, Tsubasa-chan,” Ryuuji comments flippantly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in amusement. “And if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll be enough.”

“Good afternoon! I hope I’m not intruding.” Tsubasa calls out, closing the door to THRIVE’s shared apartment behind her. She’s starting to toe off her boots when she notices the uncanny silence that’s usually absent from the rowdy trio’s afternoons off. “Hm? Are the others out? But the door was unlocked…”

Kaneshiro seems to be the only one in the living room, ears covered with his earphones and eyes staring intently at his laptop screen before flitting down at the sheet music in his hands. Tsubasa attempts to clear her throat, knowing fully well how much Kaneshiro dislikes it whenever anyone bothers him when he looks as focused as he does. It doesn’t work, and while Tsubasa debates over stepping past the receiving area awkwardly, Kaneshiro finally looks up and looks a bit surprised to find her company.

“Ah, Sumisora, what are you doing here? You should have said something, geez.”

“The documents for your next live event just came in, I wanted to give it to the group as soon as possible.” She lifts the manila folder as evidence, before scanning the vicinity for signs of any other humans in the house. “I’m sorry, should I have come at another time?”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just give it to them when they come back.” Kaneshiro makes the motion of cleaning the desk of his stuff, before Tsubasa tries to stop him to say she won’t be here for long anyway. The brunette stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck and red eyes darting from the kitchen back to her. “So…uhhh, do you want some…tea or something? I’m sure Aizome has something in there that you’d like.”

“Mm, coffee would be fine, if it doesn’t trouble you!” Tsubasa isn’t entirely sure that Aizome wouldn’t throw a fit should Kaneshiro rifle through his tea collection, even if it is for her. Kaneshiro nods, visibly more relieved from not having to make the effort to prepare tea properly, before shuffling into the kitchen. Tsubasa isn’t quite sure what to do with herself and awkwardly shifts from foot to foot, contemplating on joining him in the kitchen or just staying in place.

“Sit down, you’ve been running around the whole day again, haven’t you?” She hears Kaneshiro grumble under his breath, back turned towards her as he moves to reach for one of the guest mugs he has probably seen her use the most. She squeaks out a quick yes, thank you, excuse me, before sitting near the edge of one of THRIVE’s sofas, taking a quick peek at the music sheet he’s been working on before she arrived. Ah, Kaneshiro has already begun arranging their setlist based on the little information she has given them the week before; as expected.

A glint of light reflecting catches her eye just as she’s about to comment, and Tsubasa is immediately drawn to the dark album case thrown haphazardly on their coffee table.

“Hm? Kaneshiro-san, isn’t this the band that performed with you in the Raijin festival last year?” Tsubasa picks up the cd case and admires the album jacket before flipping it over to scan through the song list. Some have been playing on the radio recently, and she recognizes the single they’ve been promoting with as a punk song some of the younger kids like to listen to.

“Yeah, Ashu has been listening to this a lot lately.” Kaneshiro places her mug on the coffee table in front of them, hers significantly lighter compared to the deep brown of his own. She thanks him before looking back at the album in awe. She doesn’t think she can imagine Yuuta, all bubblegum pop pink, jam to the harsher beats of a punk rock group. Then again, THRIVE’s wild music has been more rock band inspired lately.

“Eh, really? I didn’t know Yuuta-kun was interested in punk bands.”

“Well, Ashu liking punk rock isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, you know. The guy can listen to whatever he wants.” Kaneshiro shrugs nonchalantly, but she has to admit that it’s true. She picks up her mug of warm coffee, and wonders how big the difference between them knowing her and her understanding them really is. “There are lots of things that you don’t know about us.”

“Ah, but that just makes me want to work harder and understand all of you more. I do want to get to know all of you better—” Tsubasa is interrupted by Kaneshiro almost choking on his hot drink. She panics — just a little, she’s grown from her anxious newbie days after all — and starts patting his back and asking what’s wrong. Kaneshiro refuses to answer, but the tip of his ears are stained as red as his eyes. Instead, he shifts the topic back to the next live event and the music arrangement he has been working on before she arrived.

In the end, Kaneshiro’s words seem to have stuck the most, and she wonders if Nishiyama Takanori might be a bit more familiar with the punk rock scene. Tsubasa ends up making calls to a few people and working overtime in order to arrange Yuuta’s schedule just right for her surprise to work. She apologizes quietly to Yuuta when she fills in another early morning schedule to compensate for an earlier day off.

This will be worth it, she has to believe that at least.

THRIVE’s schedule is set to start early for their live event when the tickets arrive in her mailbox that morning. Momo had helped her with booking tickets online at a concert auction the week before, Tsubasa being far too busy running around between sets to properly search for one physically. The red head isn’t too amused at the special treatment Yuuta gets, but Tsubasa assures him that she’ll be sure that MooNs gets their own day off to play around sometime soon.

(Momo laughs softly when he tells her that’s not really the point. Tsubasa doesn’t really have time to dissect what exactly he means before he tells her that he looks forward to her making it up to them as well for how hard they’ve been working.)

“Everyone, good job out there!” Tsubasa is ready with cooling towels and colds water bottles when the unit gets back in their dressing room, still full of energy and adrenaline from a live performance. They’re absolutely glowing like this, hyped up from the fans and flushed from the rush of a good set. Tsubasa really, really thinks she’s far too lucky for landing a job like this.

“Thanks, Tsubasa-chan! Did you see me do that drum solo? Did you, did you?” Yuuta laughs as he picks up his water bottle from her awaiting hands. Kaneshiro practically growls when he slaps a towel over the pink haired idol’s face.

“You idiot, that improv almost ruined the whole set.” The brunette huffs, downing almost half of the cold water in one go.

“Ehhh, but it was fun! The fans thought so too, they were super hyped up, you know?”

“Yuuta, it’s best you talk about these things before hand.” Aizome chuckles before smirking at the disgruntled expression on Kaneshiro’s face. “You know our Goshi doesn’t like being surprised.”

“What did you say!?”

“It’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re giving Yuuta such a hard time?”

“Mou, come on now, it’s fine! The live was great, we kicked some major butt out there!” Yuuta laughs before subtly separating the two from getting too close with each other. Tsubasa admits that it’s always so amazing to see Yuuta simultaneously be the reason THRIVE argues in the first place and the reason why they drop it.

Tsubasa laughs, “You all seem to be getting along well, as usual.”

“Hmph, what part of this looks like ‘getting along well’ huh, Sumisora?” Kaneshiro slumps in the seat across from her, arms crossed over his chest as he cools down. Aizome takes the seat next to her, chuckling a little before pulling up his compact mirror. Aizome doesn’t even look at them, but continues the conversation anyway as he readjusts the stray wisps of his blue hair.

“Now, now, Goushi, it doesn’t do well to be such a sore loser.”

“Why you—”

Yuuta has him back in his seat before he has a chance to say anything more. His hands are firm on the shorter young man’s shoulders, “Relax, Gouchin! We should be congratulating ourselves, that was a super awesome set.”

“Yes, it was. I could see how excited the fans and even some of the staff members were when I was in the wing.” Tsubasa compliments before bringing out her cellphone, quickly tapping through a few things before finding the calendar application that she usually uses. “And because of all the hard work that you’ve been doing the past few weeks, Shuuji-san decided to give you guys an early long weekend.”

Noises of disbelief come from the three, asking if she’s serious about it. Truthfully, she had to almost beg Shuuji for the day off, the president only giving up under the condition that she’d be on call still just in case any surprise, extremely important events arise.

“Your last schedule is only until tomorrow at noon, afterwards you’re free to spend the day as you please.” Tsubasa informs them. Aizome already seems to be making scheduled dates from the looks of his rapid typing, and Kaneshiro asks until what time the studio they often frequent is open. Yuuta seems to be the most excited, listing down all of the things he could do for the next few days, which reminds her that she really should give the tickets to him as soon as she can before he makes any set plans that could conflict with the concert’s schedule.

Tsubasa digs through her canvas bag, trying to get a glimpse of the familiar sakura-print ticket holder she normally uses. Her eyes light up when she manages to find it, “Ah, Yuuta-kun—”

Yuuta pauses mid-listing, and turns to her. The others pause whatever they’re thinking of as well and copy his movements, evidently curious as to what she needs. Tsubasa feels a little flustered under their expectant gazes, she really should have thought this out more. Maybe Ryuuji is right, and the boys really would be demanding their own rewards for working just as hard.

(A voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously similar to the younger of the KitaKore duo tells her, of course Ryuuji is right, you idiot)

Yuuta snaps her out of her thoughts when he calls her name, and Tsubasa flushes just a little, hand gripping the ticket holder hard enough that it creases.

“That is, uhm…!” Tsubasa decides ripping the band aid right off is better than prolonging her agony in any other way, matter, or form. Her hand shoots out from her bag, gripping the sakura-print cover tightly between her index finger and thumb. “Here!”

Yuuta blinks back at her, big amethyst eyes full of confusion. Tsubasa tries very hard not to look at the other two members of THRIVE when he gingerly plucks it from her hands. “Mm? What is it, Tsubasa-chan?”

“They’re, uhm, tickets…” Tsubasa drifts off and tries desperately to avoid THRIVE’s various levels of accusatory stares. “…to-to a band called Ominous Them? They’re playing in the Shinjuku area soon, and Shuuji-san told me you’ve been a fan of them for a while now—”

Tsubasa finally looks up to find Yuuta’s amethyst eyes practically sparkling in excitement, mouth open in a bright grin that only seems to highlight his prominent canines even more. Kaneshiro rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat, though his own gaze flits back and forth at the tickets creasing in their youngest’s vice grip.

“Tsubasa-chan, do you mean it?” Yuuta laughs and whoops louder, jumping up and down in excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…!!”

Aizome gives her a look from the corners of her eyes, but really, Tsubasa is just relieved to see the pink-haired idol so happy about it. She finally releases a sigh of relief and smiles contentedly at him. “I’m glad you’ll have fun then, Yuuta-kun.”

“Eh, but you’ll be coming too, won’t you?” Yuuta pauses, genuinely confused when she blinks up at him blankly.

“Oh, I thought you might want to invite someone else to enjoy your day off with—”

“Then, Tsubasa-chan! I pick Tsubasa-chan to watch this with!”

“Come on now, Yuuta, you can’t just bother Tsubasa-chan like this.” Aizome reprimands him gently. Yuuta, in turn, gives him a big childish pout. He looks ready to throw a tantrum if the need arises.

“Ehhh, but there’s no point if Tsubasa-chan doesn’t come with me.” Tsubasa can feel her face heat up at his words, what does that even mean?

“Come on, Ashu, don’t be so rude. You don’t even know if she likes music like that.” Kaneshiro huffs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in the process. Aizome hums in agreement.

Kaneshiro’s words seem to have hit him somewhere where it hurts, because Yuuta’s expression falls at the realization of the possibility of her not actually wanting to spend her day off with him. “But, uhh… if Tsubasa-chan doesn’t want to go, then I guess—”

“No, it’s not—!! I would be honoured if you wanted me to come with you, Yuuta-kun!”

Yuuta’s face perks up immediately as he jumps up with a loud whoop. The pink haired idol does a little dance in his place, chanting alright, alright, alright! in various levels of excitement. Tsubasa wonders if she should be worried about attending a punk rock show for the first time, especially when Kaneshiro snorts and mouths a sarcastic good luck from his seat across her.

Whatever Tsubasa imagines a punk rock live concert is, it’s definitely not much like the real thing. The walls have been painted black, from what she can tell by the parts not hidden behind various band posters and vandalism at the very least. Her nose wrinkles as it catches a whiff of a weird mix of smoke, cheap cologne and stale beer. Tsubasa fingers the hem of her pastel sweater, awkward and out of place in this sea of dark reds and black.

Her eyes flit over to Yuuta beside her, practically thrumming in excitement. Yuuta, whose bubblegum pink hair has been hidden discreetly and expertly underneath a knit beanie (something in her gut tells her he probably borrowed it from Kaneshiro). Yuuta, whose easygoing personality has instantly scored him some friends from waiting in the line outside together. Yuuta who definitely must not feel any awkwardness infiltrating his body in spite of the new environment. Tsubasa envies him, just the slightest bit.

She bites the bud of self-doubt before it grows any further.

“Have you gone here before, Yuuta-kun?”

“No, not here.” Yuuta shakes his head, a few stray strands flying out to frame his freckled face. He reaches out to tuck it back, exposing the dangling piercing on his right ear. “Gouchin and I snuck into one before we debuted! That was a fun experience.”

Before Tsubasa can ask any more, the distant buzzing of chatter suddenly rise to screams and cheers as the band shuffles their way to the stage. Yuuta joins in beside her, but otherwise makes no move to enter into the fray of people flocking the edge of the stage. How weird must it be for Yuuta, whose everyday job is to stand on the other side, to be now hanging back with the crowd? The brunette claps politely as the front-liner taps twice on the mic with a lazy grin, sweeping his wild hair back with a free hand.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar faces here in the crowd.” The vocalist notes, scanning through the sea of people. Tsubasa wonders if he can even see anything against the glare of lights? She would have to ask the boys later on if it really is true that you can see the faces of the fans past the third row. “Which is always a fun thing you know?”

Tsubasa can practically feel Yuuta buzzing, all grins as he shouts along with the fans. The drummer plays a haphazard beat before hooting, revving and riling up the crowd even more.

“Shinjuku, are you ready to rock!?”

The band launches into song immediately after, and the sound sends her to almost another world entirely. Kaneshiro has warned her about the intense volume that punk rock music brings with it, Aizome almost teasing when he asks if he’s that worried about her. Really, though, Tsubasa doesn’t think any of his warnings ready her for anything as powerful as this.

It’s loud and chaotic, and the images that flash across her head are too fast for her to properly process. The whole thing makes her a little dizzy, as if they want to throw everything at her all at once.

But she feels so, so alive.

When the brunette turns to Yuuta, the pink haired idol can’t stop his body from moving. He looks at her, and then back to the crowd. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that tell her he’s up to something, but the bright smile on his face convinces her that whatever it is he asks, it’s something that she’d eventually want to fulfill. Yuuta reaches out a hand to her, all wild mischief and sincere heart.

“Do you trust me?”

Tsubasa says yes in a heartbeat, and before she has time to think twice about what Ryuuji would inevitably call a very stupid decision, Yuuta pulls her in and leads the way towards the crowd gathering in front. The brunette can faintly hear the younger man deliberately telling her not to let go of his hand, no matter what happens. (she’s awkward and shy in an unfamiliar environment, of course she’s never letting go of the hand of the one person she actually knows in this punk rock fest)

Bodies press close to each other in a weird form of companionship that Tsubasa has never really seen. And although she’s nervous, her heart beating loudly against her chest, Yuuta makes sure to grin in support, you’re doing great, Tsubasa-chan. Yuuta leans in close, the only way he’ll be able to let her hear him of course, and the blood pounding behind her ears gets even louder. “Just dance! Come on, dance with me!”

“How—What do I do?”

“Whatever feels natural!”

He takes her hands, careful of how his numerous accessories press against her skin. Yuuta begins jumping up and down, not so much as a dance step as it is just making sure that he gets to exhaust his energy and move around. Tsubasa awkwardly follows his lead, steps a little mismatched. Yuuta starts banging his head, making her laugh in delight seeing fluffy bubblegum pink hair flying wild and free, his beanie almost off of his head when he’s done. She can feel the sweat dripping against the back of her neck, incredibly aware of how many other bodies there are in this mosh pit, but Yuuta has the uncanny ability to somehow take all of her attention unapologetically.

She has never seen a Yuuta this free and so genuinely happy.

Yuuta bounces in time to the beat and somehow Tsubasa matches his pace. His grin is somehow extra-blinding before he throws both of their hands up and lets out a loud “Whoo!”

And maybe she actually does feel that this is kind of fun—

But then he accidentally does let go of her hand, and Tsubasa is swept away in the crowd of people shoving and dancing and way too into her personal space; where’s Yuuta?

Shoulders and elbows. Digging into her sides and almost hitting her head. One burly man apologizes for accidentally pushing a young girl almost half his size. One tattooed woman screams for more music too close to her sensitive ears. Too close for comfort. This is far too much she can handle. Where the hell is Yuuta? And—

Tsubasa can’t breathe—

Someone wraps a hand around her wrist and she’s about to scream bloody murder until her bright red eyes meet a spray of familiar freckles. Tsubasa doesn’t know if she wants to cry out in frustration more or melt in absolute relief over finding her idol (or is she technically the one who has been found?). Shuuji-san would skin her alive if she tells him she lost THRIVE’s moodmaker in a sea full of people wearing various pointy accessories.

“Yuuta-kun, please don’t scare me like that!” Tsubasa has to shout over how loud the music is and how many people are cheering as the band transitions into a new song.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Tsubasa-chan!” Yuuta at least looks as apologetic as he sounds, his hands squeezing her wrists as if to remind himself that she’s right there still. “I didn’t mean to lose you, I promise!”

Tsubasa nods and uses her free hand to wipe away the unshed tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Yuuta sighs in relief, shoulders sagging before smiling softly at her. He takes away her hand from her face and slips his palms over hers firmly holding on.

Tsubasa feels her face heat up and is thankful for all of their jumping around just moments before. “Yuu, Yuuta-kun?”

When the brunette looks up, Yuuta doesn’t quite meet her eyes, his own amethyst ones flicking all over the place before they finally rest on their entwined palms. “This is… just so I can make sure I don’t lose you again. Is this okay?”

The rapid beating of her heart tells her it’s not okay, but she’s held hands with him before, and it really isn’t that weird, right? So Tsubasa nods shakily, and lets herself be overwhelmed by the bright beam Yuuta gives her in response.

“Do you still want to dance in the mosh pit?” Tsubasa knows how much of a good person the idol is, and it’s further cemented by the fact that she also knows if she says no, he’ll pull the both of them out even though he looks like he still really, really wants to play.

And isn’t this supposed to be a reward for Yuuta working so hard?

Tsubasa nods, and barely mouths a just for a little bit more, before Yuuta whoops and hollers. He pulls her close and immediately finds the beat again. Tsubasa doesn’t suppress the laugh that bubbles in her throat as the energy from everyone eventually infects her, and she’s up and about and almost as bouncy as Yuuta.

[diminuel]

Reading List: April

I missed archiving fics I read in March, but I’m back for April. Some of the fics I might have read in March. I’m still not very good at keeping track of what I read when! But the important part is that you get some fics to read! ;D

I’ve added the archive warnings in the brackets in case there were any, but didn’t include the tags. So make sure to read them.

Enjoy! ♥

bring it on home by xylodemon (2.4k)

"She ─" Sam grimaces again. "She likes tea, right?"

Dean hesitates. He pictures their old kitchen in Lawrence ─ the floral wallpaper, the walnut cabinets, the pots and pans hanging on hooks. Sheer, white curtains had hung in the windows, and Mary had left them open because she'd liked plenty of sunlight. It had smelled like coffee in the mornings. Dean had always lined his army men up on the table before eating his Cheerios.

"I don't know," he admits. "She ─ maybe."

Soft and gentle, but also slightly melancholy coda fic for 12x02

The One: Supernatural Edition by motorbike_on_the_avenue (73k)

The One is America's #1 dating show!

Twenty contestants will spend six weeks competing in tasks, to show the American public they should be picked to marry the suitor. Over the six weeks, they'll be voted down till just The One remains...

Dean Winchester is this year's suitor. A 34 year old firefighter from Kansas he isn't entirely sure why he applied to a dating show where he has to get married at the end.

Especially since he'll never have met (or seen) anything about his future lawfully wedded whatever.

But just who will be voted The One?

This is such an enjoyable fic! Dean and Cas don’t even meet each other until the very end, but the premise is so captivating and I constantly was nervous and rooting for my faves *lol*

Kitchen Overhaul by Powerfulweak (Explicit, 20k)

For Dean Winchester, his family’s bakery is his life, even if business is tanking. When his brother volunteers them for the reality show “Kitchen Overhaul”, Dean is less than enthusiastic with changing anything about his beloved bakery. He is even less enthusiastic to deal with the infamously icy host, Chef Castiel Novak.

Just like the previous fic on the list, this fic also has a TV show format as the premise of its story, but it’s more in the background. I loved this a lot! I got frustrated because of Dean, then because of Cas, but it’s all very rewarding!

Peak Homosexual by K_K_TiBal (3.7k)

You know that thing that happens where you hear something really homophobic in public so you gay it up as much as you can? This is that story.

Cute, pretend relationship fic! ♥

Neighborly Behavior by Annie D (scaramouche) (1.8k)

Cas and Dean at a neighborhood potluck, in an AU where they're both kinda assholes.

It’s hilarious and always good for a re-read!

Dean's Table by through_shadows_falling (4.9k)

On Castiel’s first day waiting tables at the Roadhouse Diner, his co-worker tells him to save a spot for Dean, a young veteran with a cane who sits in the same corner booth every day. Dean doesn’t talk, but Castiel’s charm soon works its magic until Dean reveals that he’s there to reconnect with his brother after a painful falling out. Castiel hopes Dean will succeed, even as Castiel's roommate, Sam, visits the diner one morning.

Lovely story about Cas easing Dean out of his lonely shell. And it also includes a happy reunion.

The Glen by Annie D (scaramouche) (3.2k, Explicit)

Dean's run out of excuses to not claim Cas, so he finally does. Better late than never, right?

This is actually set after a previous story, which focuses on Sam and Kevin. It might be slightly confusing without the previous part but I think still an interesting read, especially with the following part!

The Shop on the Corner by CasCase (18.6k, Mature)

Two years ago Castiel left behind his job and his past to fulfill his dream of opening a neighborhood bookshop. Now, his shop is popular and he’s finding himself fitting in with his new community. He’s perfectly happy with his quiet life among the books.

Perhaps the only thing that could make it absolutely perfect would be the attentions of Dean-the-Delivery-Guy. But, of course that means Castiel will have to work beyond his own insecurities to find a way to see the gorgeous man more than once a week.

Maybe he should stick to the books after all.

This was fun and lovely and even though there’s a bit of angst and pining involved, Dean’s gentle patience were lovely!

In Someone Else's Life by blue_morning (4.5k)

Cas never believed in love at first sight, but when he accidentally crashes a wedding trying to keep his brother out of trouble, it happens to him. Happy ending, right? Yeah, except that the man he falls for just happens to be the groom.

Light-hearted misunderstandings (mostly Gabriel’s fault) and an absolutely hilarious ending!

The Return Policy by aileenrose (12.9k, Explicit)

"Most of his visitors are academics. They come from universities all over the nation, sometimes beyond. Others write books. The man in the Reading Room today is neither. He’s a tall, irritated man with a federal badge."

The federal agent's partner is usually the one who does the research. And even though Cas doesn't think this man is a real federal agent, he's happy to help where he can.

A great read, close to canon, with lovely atmosphere!

Do You Need a Stepdad? by supernatural9917 (1.8k)

When Claire Novak tweets a picture of her dad cooking, she didn't expect to go viral, or for everyone to be quite so hot for her dad.

Based on a photo prompt: Teenager Claire posts a snarky tweet about her single dad Cas, and gets this response. She says ‘LOL no he’s gay’ so Dean tweets to ask if she needs a stepdad!

It might be short but it’s incredibly delightful! 

How to Keep Time by aileenrose (6.6k, Mature)

Dean's just beginning to learn that some times are more precious than others.

Very touching fic, featuring homeless Cas making beautiful things and Dean having to (re) learn what’s truly valuable.

The Neighboring Perspective by aileenrose (12.7k, Mature)

Dean's newly single, in a new house, and a brand-new father to boot.

Dean's also got this weird thing where some stranger is leaving baby clothes on his porch at night.

A very lovely fic with Cas breaking my heart with his softness and his sadness...! ;w;

Best You Ever Ate by darkforetold (1.7k, Explicit)

Cas sucks—under a table at Ma's Diner.

A PWP! :D

For Science by shiphitsthefan (6.1k, Explicit)

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

It might sound like a cracky PWP, but it’s not! It features ace!Cas and Dean figuring out their sexual relationship. It’s sweet and funny~

Remarkable by shiphitsthefan (3.7k)

It’s only Castiel’s first day as a teacher at All City Elementary in Sioux Falls, and he’s already been warned by four teachers, the guidance counselor, the principal, and the librarian to watch out for Ben Braeden’s father. Unluckily for Castiel, Dean turns out to be just as “helpful” as everyone’s said, bringing in stacks of literature and just as many ideas for how Mr. Milton can encourage his students to be more socially conscious. Castiel dismisses him every time with hardly a second thought.

When Ben brings in his Patriot Day essay assignment, Mr. Milton can't help but change his mind.

I love how passionate and insistent Dean is about social issues. And the way the other teachers speak about Dean makes me sad, but at least Cas makes an effort and the whole fic is very sweet and uplifting!

Made Manifest by schmerzerling

Wherein Castiel defied God for Dean before Dean even knew his name.

I was craving trans!Dean fic and this was recommended to me. It’s really good, focusing on Dean up until Cas pulls him out of hell and recongizes Dean for who he is. Dean, not Deanna.

Low Battery Blues by destielonfire (4k)

Wherein a dead phone battery ruins an otherwise perfectly good and well-intended joke and causes Cas to think Dean broke up with him.

Misunderstanding with a happy ending!

Parent's Weekend by Piper_Halliwell1979 (1.7k)

Claire needs a "dad" to come meet one of her professors during Parent's Weekend at college. She can't get hold of Cas so Dean steps up to help her out. Turns out Claire wouldn't mind if she had two dads.

Dean and Cas both pretend to be Claire’s dads!

This Is Gonna Have Consequences, Kid by omgbubblesomg (Explicit, 3.6k)

Modern AU. Dean is looking for someone to spend the night and Cas is working the streets

PWP with sex worker Cas, featuring younger!Cas and older!Dean.

The Ritual by HazelDomain (Explicit, 9.6k // non-con cw)

The Winchesters were used to being outnumbered. They weren’t too worried about taking on humans, numerous though they may be. It was the ritual’s mystery guest that concerned them. 

Their intel wasn’t good. They knew the cultists needed the participation of some incredibly powerful being in order to complete the summoning. “Powerful” and “being” were both very loosely translated, as was “participation.”

I was on a hurt!Cas kick and this story has plenty of it. Cas was abducted by a cult and then found by the Winchesters once it’s been mostly completed. See the archive warnings (graphic violence and rape) and further tags!

Finding Courage by DarkHeartInTheSky (26.3k)

By allowing Lucifer to use him as a vessel, Castiel helped eliminate the Darkness and saved the World. But it may have been at the cost of Sam and Dean's friendship. Deciding he has nothing to live for without that, Castiel plans to end his life on his terms and be at peace---if only a certain ghost of an archangel would leave him alone. Meanwhile, Dean needs to learn to use his words.

A Supernatural "It"s A Wonderful Life" AU

More hurt Cas. Dean reacts very negatively once Cas is free of his possession, sending him away. As a consequence Cas tries to commit suicide and is given the chance to either die or return to life once more. It takes a while to convince him that he hasn’t lost everything. It’s sad but it has a good ending.

Specimen Two Eighty Five by HazelDomain (Explicit, 8k // non-con cw)

Prompt: Cas gets taken prisoner by the MOL or some other people. They lump angels in with all the other supernatural creatures, and believe they’re little better than animals. They keep Cas restrained and burn or tattoo warding on him. They talk about him like he can’t understand them. They strip him, examine him, make him manifest his wings. He can’t escape, and every day brings new mistreatment and misery.

Hurt!Cas and tortured Cas seems to be the theme of my reading at the end of April. What I particularly like about this is the non-linear narration!

Womb Kindred by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 33k)

It was probably too much to hope for that Castiel's once-betrothed, Dean of Winchester, never found out that they had a child together.

I adore this fic and the last chapter was recently posted. So it’s on my to re-read list! It’s got a very interesting setting and there’s constant tension between all the characters. Cas has been hurt in the past and while he is fierce in guarding Claire, there’s a sad resignation about him. And about Dean as well. They’re pretty much walking on eggshells around each other all the time and then they get flung into troubles which readjusts their relationship. While it has a good ending, it’s clear that it’s not a perfect happy ever after. 

Pining Sickness; Or, Murder With One Stone by athaclena, iraeim (Explicit, 57.8k)

New York, 1895. The rigid customs of the old century are beginning to fall away, allowing access to the professions for more people than just Omega men and Alpha women. Dean Winchester, the city’s first Alpha male Detective, uncovers evidence that a mysterious new illness killing mated couples might have its origins is the criminal rather than the medical.

Castiel Novak is a respectable Omega doctor who has started to see patients dying cruelly of something he cannot cure or even effectively treat. Approached by the Detective to once again give his medical expertise, he is eager to work towards finding a cause and, he hopes, a cure for the unfortunate sufferers. But both men harbour a secret attraction towards the other, and the quest for the truth will stretch their relationship beyond its limits.

A historical murder mystery set against a backdrop of a non-traditional Omegaverse.

I absolutely adored this fic! It’s got a historical setting and a very interesting world building which, as the summary advertises, features a non-traditional distribution of roles, with omega men at the top of society. The case itself is interesting and you just get a massive dose of pining between Dean and Cas, but it’s a quiet, resigned kind of pining, that really pulls at your heart.

Take On Me by Powerfulweak (Explicit, 46.4k)

Alpha Dean Winchester figured the closest he’d get to the apple pie life and fatherhood was a one-shot, “wham-bam-thank-you-mam” trip to a sperm bank. That is, until he comes face-to-face with the omega carrying his pup on a fateful trip to the grocery store. When the the omega runs off without a word, though, Dean learns the situation is far more complicated than he expected. Can an anonymous sperm donation and the favor of a lifetime help two complete strangers find everything their life was missing?

A fic with an unusual premise that just promises a “it’s complicated” kind of situation! There’s plenty of very intriguing angst, but there is a fluffy happy ending!

Marry Him by ProLazy (2.9k)

Jimmy is sick and asks Castiel to do him a favour. This results in Dean mistaking Cas for Jimmy and explaining that he wants to marry Cas.

A cute sort of mistaken identity fic!

Left Behind by Aini_NuFire (6.6k)

Sam and Dean saved Lucifer from Amara. They just assumed that meant they’d saved Cas too…

(Author needs to vent some angst, but there’s still a happy ending)

That last part of the summary pretty much describes this fic. It’s a gen fic, addressing the fact that Cas often gets forgotten or left behind, especially in this whole Lucifer and Chuck fiasco. ;w;

Captured by bobertsmallismydad (6.2k)

On a day when he is taking a break from Heaven Castiel is captured by the order of the Royal Court aka King "Dickbag" John Winchester. He is forced into servitude as a . . . nanny?

This has a very interesting premise! An enslaved angel having to work as a nanny? Great! Castiel is captured by king John (a douchebag) and tasked to watch over Dean, which he does, over the years. Until Dean himself becomes king.

Choice and Precious Vessels by justabrain (11.2k)

In a world where angels wear collars to suppress their powers and are subservient to humans, a young Castiel finds himself serving a family with two young boys, Sam and Dean. He soon befriends the older of the two, yet all good things must come to an end.

Another gen, Cas whump one. It’s a sad story in which angels are slaves and even though Castiel’s situation improved when he is being bought by the Winchester family, Cas still isn’t treated with dignity. And while the story promises a happy ending and it does have a happy ending, my soul wasn’t quite soothed. ;w; All the damage had been done and nobody makes reparations for it. But despite the sadness I do think it’s a great read!

the worst week of dean's life by jhoom (1.7k)

Dean’s son is driving him crazy.

Super cute, poor Dean is so frustrated because he can’t get his son to call him dada.

Moonlit Sky by hollyblue2 (1.1k)

They'd been busy on their actual anniversary, so Dean decides to make it up to Castiel.

A soft and fluffy story, good for the heart!

Dean's Carol by BurningTea (17.9k)

Dean has learned that a hunter can't have close friends or loved ones, not without being ready to lose them, so he decides it's safer for Cas not to be around.

Can the traditional visits from three ghosts change his mind?

Dean has to learn an important lesson! I love how it takes the story of the christmas carol and putting it into a canon compliant universe, where Dean is aware of what’s happening because he knows the story.

[dfroza]

what we choose to do sexually matters.

sex is pure and sacred and created by God, but it is meant for the right context when shared in the marital bond. every life on earth is conceived at a genesis spark and born in pure virginity, which is also sacred and to be guarded. just as marriage is to be guarded, kept pure. unadulterated.

in Today’s reading of the Scriptures Paul writes of judging immoral behavior within the community of believers in the 5th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians:

Because of my deep love for you, I must express my concern about the report brought to me regarding the lewd and immoral behavior exhibited in your community. This scandal has come to my attention because this kind of thing is unheard of even among the outsiders around us: I understand a man is having sexual relations with his father’s wife. You have turned into an arrogant lot who refuse to see the tragedy right in front of your eyes and mourn for it. If you would face these hard realities, the one living in this sin would be removed from the community.

Despite the fact that I am not physically present with you, I am there in spirit and already have spoken judgment against the man who has engaged in this conduct. When you gather in the name of the Lord Jesus and I am present with you in spirit, and the infinite power of our Lord Jesus is present also, I direct you to release this man over to Satan so his rebellious nature will be destroyed and his spirit might be rescued in the day the Lord Jesus returns.

Your proud boasting in this matter is terrible. Don’t you understand that the tiniest infraction can bring about an unwelcome chain of events? That just a little yeast causes all the dough to rise? Get rid of all the old yeast; then you’ll become new dough, just as you are already a people without sin’s leavening influence. You see, the Anointed One is our Passover lamb; He has been sacrificed for us. So let the real feast begin. Get rid of all the old yeast, the yeast of hatred and evil. Throw it out so we can feast on the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

In the letter I wrote to you previously, I made it clear that you are not to band together with those who have embraced immoral lives. Don’t misunderstand; I’m not telling you to hole up and hunker down from the rest of the world. That’s impossible. The world is filled with immoral people consumed by their desire for more; they steal from one another without hesitation and will worship man-made idols with no shame at all. If you attempted to avoid these people, you would have to leave the world itself. What I was saying is that you should not associate with someone who calls himself a brother or sister but lives contrary to all we stand for: committing immoral sexual acts, consumed with desire for more, worshiping tangible lifeless things, using profanity, drinking into oblivion, swindling and cheating others. Do not even sit at the table with a person like this. Why would I ever attempt to judge those outside the church? Aren’t we called to judge those within the church? God judges the outsiders. Your job is this: “Expel the wicked from your own community.”

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 40th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to a time of forgiveness and proclaiming God’s message of grace, of which we have been entrusted to do with the New Covenant revealed in the Son:

“Comfort, comfort My people,” says your God.

“With gentle words, tender and kind,

Assure Jerusalem, this chosen city from long ago,

that her battles are over.

The terror, the bloodshed, the horror of My punishing work is done.

This place has paid for its guilt; iniquity is pardoned;

its term of incarceration is complete.

It has endured double the punishment it was due.”

A voice is wailing, “In the wilderness, get it ready! Prepare the way;

make it a straight shot. The Eternal would have it so.

Straighten the way in the wandering desert

to make the crooked road wide and straight for our God.

Where there are steep valleys, treacherous descents,

raise the highway; lift it up;

bring down the dizzying heights.

Fill in the potholes and gullies, the rough places.

Iron out the shoulders flat and wide.

The Lord will be, really be, among us.

The radiant glory of the Lord will be revealed.

All flesh together will take it in. Believe it.

None other than God, the Eternal, has spoken.”

A voice says, “Declare!”

But what shall I declare?

All life is like the grass.

All of its grace and beauty fades like the wild flowers in a field.

The grass withers, the flower fades

as the breath of the Eternal One blows away.

People are no different from grass.

The grass withers, the flower fades;

nothing lasts except the word of our God.

It will stand forever.

Ascend a high mountain,

you herald of good tidings, O Zion;

With a clear, strong voice make known to everyone

the joy that belongs to God’s chosen place,

O, Jerusalem, You herald of good tidings!

Make the news ring out! Don’t be afraid!

Say to these cities, this Judah: “Behold your God!”

The Lord, the Eternal, comes with power, with unstoppable might;

He will take control without question or delay.

He will see to it that wages are paid,

repairs are made, and all is set right again.

He will feed His fold like a shepherd;

He will gather together His lambs—the weak and the wobbly ones—into His arms.

He will carry them close to His bosom,

and tenderly lead like a shepherd the mother of her lambs.

Who has taken count and measured out all earth’s waters in a single, cupped palm

and determined heaven’s expanse with an outstretched hand?

Who has counted out exactly how many grains of dirt are here on earth,

and weighed the mountains and hills on scales?

Who has directed the Spirit of the Eternal One?

Can anyone claim to be His advisor?

To whom did God turn for advice or instruction?

Whom did He consult about right and wrong?

Who directed Him down the path of justice or imparted to Him knowledge

or taught Him the way of understanding?

Face it; the nations are nothing but a drop in the bucket,

only a smidgen on the scales by the reckoning of God.

He can pick up entire islands as if they are grains of dirt.

Even if we had all the resources of Lebanon—

all of its trees to burn for fuel, all of its animals for burnt offerings—

How could we think that we’ve got enough to give to God?

All the countries of the world don’t add up to anything. In the eyes of God

they are less than nothing;

they are empty wastelands.

So would you try to find someone to compare to Him?

Can you think of anything that has a likeness to God?

An idol? Hardly. They are made by human hands.

Even if they are overlaid with gold, decorated with silver,

And shaped by the world’s best artisans,

they are subject to tarnish, tearing, and breaking.

Those who cannot afford such an extravagant offering

select a choice hardwood that will not rot,

And seek a skilled artisan to fashion an image

that will not totter and fall.

Don’t you know, haven’t you heard or even been told

from your earliest memories how the earth came to be?

Who else could have done it except God, enthroned high above the earth?

From such a vantage people seem like grasshoppers to Him.

Who else but God could stretch out the skies as if they were a curtain,

draw them tight, suspend them over our heads like the roof of a tent?

God reduces the rulers and judges,

the rich and powerful of the earth, to nothing;

They scarcely are planted, take root and start growing,

before God blows a withering breath,

And storm winds carry them away like chaff.

The Holy One asks, “Do you really think you can find

someone or something to compare to Me? My equal?”

Look at the myriad of stars and constellations above you.

Who set them to burning, each in its place?

Who knows those countless lights each by name?

They obediently shine, each in its place,

because God has the great strength and strong power to make it so.

Why, then, do you, Jacob, inheritors of God’s promise,

you, Israel, chosen of God—

Why do you say, “My troubled path is hidden from the Eternal;

God has lost all interest in My cause”?

Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?

The Eternal, the Everlasting God,

The Creator of the whole world, never gets tired or weary.

His wisdom is beyond understanding.

God strengthens the weary

and gives vitality to those worn down by age and care.

Young people will get tired;

strapping young men will stumble and fall.

But those who trust in the Eternal One will regain their strength.

They will soar on wings as eagles.

They will run—never winded, never weary.

They will walk—never tired, never faint.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 40 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, july 18 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that looks at the True Temple who is the Lord the eternal King:

Yeshua foretold the destruction of the Second Temple when he lamented: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, Barukh Haba Ba'shem Adonai: 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.' Yeshua then left the Temple and was going away, when his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the Temple. But he answered them, "You see all these, do you not? Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down." (Matt. 23:37-24:2). Note well that we are not awaiting the construction of the "Third Temple" which will be hastily erected during the time of Jacob’s Trouble during the Great Tribulation, but we await the "Fourth Temple," that is, the Temple that will be built by Tzemach Tzaddik (צֶמַח צַדִּיק), namely, the Messiah the Son of David (מָשִׁיחַ בֶּן־דָוִד) who will come again to establish the Kingdom of Zion upon the earth in fulfillment of the promises of God (Zech. 6:12; Jer. 23:5). At that glorious time the mourning of the Jewish people will be forgotten, as it is written: "Thus says Adonai Tzeva'ot (יהוה צְבָאוֹת): The fast of the fourth month (Tammuz), and the fast of the fifth month (Tishah B'Av), and the fast of the seventh month (Gedaliah), and the fast of the tenth month (Asarah b'Tevet), will be to the house of Judah for joy and rejoicing and for pleasant appointed seasons. Therefore love truth and peace" (Zech. 8:19). In that coming day, "The LORD will be king over all the earth. On that day the LORD will be one and his name one."

As I’ve mentioned over the years, the word “Zion” (i.e., tziyon: צִיּוֹן) is mentioned over 160 times in the Scriptures. That’s more than the words faith, hope, love, and countless others... And since Zion is a poetic form of the word Jerusalem, the number of occurrences swells to nearly 1,000! It is therefore not an overstatement to say that God Himself is a Zionist.... “Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth” (Psalm 50:2). Zion represents the rule and reign of God in the earth and is therefore synonymous with the Kingdom of God. The entire redemptive plan of God -- including the coming of the Messiah Himself and our very salvation -- is wrapped up in the concept of Zion. It is the “historiography” of God -- His “philosophy of history,” if you will.

In a sense, the great vision of Zion is the heart of the Gospel message and the focal point of God’s salvation in this world. Zion represents our eschatological future -- our home in olam haba (the world to come). Even the new heavens and earth will be called Jerusalem -- “Zion in her perfection” (Rev. 21). "This is what Adonai Tzeva’ot says: I am very jealous for Jerusalem and Zion, but I am very angry with the nations that feel secure" (Zech. 1:14-15). "For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, for Jerusalem's sake I will not remain quiet, till her righteousness shines out like the dawn, her salvation like a blazing torch" (Isa 62:1). "The builder of Jerusalem is God, the outcasts of Israel he will gather in... Praise God, O Jerusalem, laud your God, O Zion" (Psalm 147:2-12). [Hebrew for Christians]

7.16.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 18, 2021

Why Parables?

“And with many such parables spake he the word unto them, as they were able to hear it. But without a parable spake he not unto them: and when they were alone, he expounded all things to his disciples.” (Mark 4:33-34)

There is confusion concerning the parables of Jesus Christ. Was Jesus advocating an alternative form of teaching by using parables? Typically, parables were not the primary method used to impart truth. Look at the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7). Our Lord presented truth clearly in 105 verses and concluded with a parable made up of only five verses.

So, what are biblical parables? A simple definition of a parable comes from the Greek word parabole. The meaning of this word is “throwing” (bole) “alongside” (para), as in the words comparison, illustration, and analogy. With parables there is a connection between spiritual truth and common practice. The lawyer in Luke 10:29 asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?” Our Lord answered him by packaging a salvific truth in a parable, using a fictitious gracious Samaritan who lived out in practice what the law demanded. Jesus called out this lawyer’s superficial self-righteousness by calling him to repentance and concluded the story by saying, “Go, and do thou likewise” (Luke 10:37).

While parables explain spiritual truths to the followers of our Lord, they also have the purpose of disguising truth to those hardened hearers who oppose Christ. Understanding parables takes careful detective work. As one pastor warns, “It takes care, hard work, and the Holy Spirit’s guidance to help get it right.”

We must always remember that parables reveal precious nuggets of spiritual truth to believing followers and disguise truth to those antagonistic to the faith. On which side of the equation do you stand? CM

A tweet by the ICR:

@ICRscience: ⛰️ The presence of actual undecayed tissues in fossils found at virtually every level of the geologic column completely undermines evolution's deep-time paradigm.

#FossilRecord #QuoteOfTheDay

7.17.21 • 5:00pm • Twitter

[yourhealthmattersblog]

Knowledge the legislation of appeal

Knowledge the legislation of appeal; Wealth and Peace of mind gravitation - The legislation of glamour seems simple adequate, but all of us can from time to time misunderstand even the only matters in life. Such is human nature as well as probably it's miles greater to study from our individual errors after that to put our consider into a person else's errors. Like attracts like; claims the law of glamour. you'll expect that money attracts loan after that, as well as while that is actual to a sure quantity bear in mind the reality that also the abundant lose their lot of money. The legislation of enchantment is established concerning terms with our internal thoughts, feelings as well as preconceived notions through checking them and also readjusting them for you to attract higher wealth right into our lives. as opposed to pondering deficiency we require to believe more in terms of wealth this is inside the globe, inside ourselves inside the shape of ability, chances, and creative thinking most of all. instead of thinking about every method how some point might wish to pass wrong, think of methods that would certainly cross ideal and methods to customize whilst matters do go inaccurate. everyone learn from experience and also it can be true that delight in is just some other name for our errors. we have the ability to all are afraid concerning minor points, but worry would not clear up whatever and commonly will bring in greater anxiety about something relevant or maybe no more associated with our initial concern. sure sufficient a little of concern permits us see some thing this is definitely a difficulty, after which it's time to show our thoughts to consciousness on a method to treat this trouble or to find assist. via getting for assistance you are also helping others who like to be requested assistance and also take pleasure in the agree with you provide them when you talk over with them. never be ashamed to request aid, because of the fact without supporting one another we may all nonetheless be house in caves. All troubles might be solved or reduced in one way or every other. The solutions already exist both in the international or in the normal capability. agree with in yourself that one manner or every various other you will locate your solutions, you shall find your convenience due to the midnightmare it's far currently inside you as long as you realize it's far there. See each issue as linked to an equal gain, remedy, option. regardless of what happens you require to be there for your self and progress with your love, think, comprehending of the divinity within you. As a human being we've particular limitations when it come to time and area, however consider that we constantly wish to magnify a number of our restrictions and notice that we're larger than our problems which those difficulties do currently not outline us, do no longer individual us, can't harm us. Being genuine with ourselves as well as detecting at the very same time as welcoming our very own faults makes our wonderful element grow as well as enhance. If we paintings on the behavior of loving ourselves totally after that we're recuperation the market as well. we're each a micro-a component of the market, and also key we need to paintings on our personal recovery so that the world can recover also. This is not narcissism as a result of the fact in one manner or different elements individuals are tied to our cherished ones, and to also strangers who're ahead to be our chums inside the fate. If we're valuing ourselves then we let the industry admire ourselves as nicely. appeal to what you are, what you may be, what you have got always been; unlimited possibility and a plenty of miracle of way of livings. To know more, check out: https://maplehemmerling434.wixsite.com/bestmangabooks/post/85cufno5rpfh7egjd8s0j8h1621773285

[docfuture]

Deep Trouble

       [Here is a side story, set just after Chapter 43 of The Maker’s Ark, my current serial in progress.  The start is here, and links to my other work here. The next update is planned for the week of April 16th.]

      "Oh, it's no trouble," said Ambassador Wilson.  "This requires no travel or formality; just conversation on a subject I find fascinating and an opportunity to witness something memorable from a safe distance.  The diplomatic details are already taken care of and were not my problem for once."       He and Sam were watching a placid Caribbean beach scene on the big screen in the off-duty lounge of the HQ ship of the EDU.  Sam was glad for his company.  He would have insights into whatever was about to happen.       "All right," said Sam.  "Then have some popcorn and fill me in.  DASI said this would be an illustration of geopolitics that I might find educational as the human spokesperson for the Universal Proxy Partnership.  I've been in over my head with that from the beginning."       He sipped his tea.  "Less so than many others in positions of power.  I think you've done quite well so far.  You don't have any illusions that most people think like you, and you have a firm grasp of the vast gulfs of misunderstanding possible between otherwise reasonable parties."       Wilson gestured at the screen.  "What is your perspective on why that Cook fellow is on the island?"       "Money," said Sam.  "He arranged for a drone strike on Black Swan, in an attempt to intimidate people away from meeting her in person.  The EDU authorized targeted sanctions, so Black Swan made it selectively difficult for him to conduct business and transfer money remotely, among other things.  A lot of his liquid assets ended up stuck there, even though that wasn't what he had intended, because that's where many of his banks and shell companies are based.  The transfers in worked, but the transfers out didn't, so he flew in to try to correct that.  Now his plane is having electronics problems."       "Indeed," said Wilson.  "But that amounts to saying he's there because Black Swan wants him to be.  Any guesses why?"       "System administration was my original specialty, so I don't have much of a clue beyond 'politics'."       Wilson finished chewing his popcorn before continuing.  "That, along with some quirks of international law and old compromises--and a bit of geography."       Sam studied the building visible at the edge the beach.  It looked like a luxurious vacation home, of the sort rented by the rich to relax close to their money.       "I am pretty sure it has something to do with it not being US territory," she said.  "I know the Cayman Islands are popular as a tax haven and off-shore banking spot.  You think Black Swan is about to send them a message?"       Wilson took another sip of tea.  "That possibility has no doubt been worrying Mr. Cook since his plane troubles started.  And worrying the local authorities as well.  If the Cayman Islands become perceived as a dangerous place to keep money, their economy will suffer greatly.  Which means the diplomatic reaction to what is actually about to happen will be muted."       "But what--wait."  Sam had noticed something odd in the water.       "DASI?" she said.       "Yes?" replied DASI.       "Can you zoom in on those things in the water, offshore and to the left of center?"       The image shifted and enlarged, becoming grainier in the process.  The two objects were round and about the size of large coconuts, floating about six feet apart  They were difficult to make out clearly because of the glare from reflected sunlight.       They twitched suddenly, in unison, then were still again, except for the gentle bobbing of the waves.  Sam's heart lurched.       "Oh.  Hell."  She looked over at Wilson, then back to the screen.  "Those are eyes, aren't they?"       "Yes," he said.  "I rather think they are."

      "They... aren't moving," said Sam.  "They're just watching."       "For the moment.  We seem to be a bit early," said Wilson,  "While we wait, can I ask how much you know about the Deep Kingdoms?"       "More than most people, but not really all that much.  I picked up a bit while working on Sealord's deep com links.  He needs special vid displays because his eyes see differently, even when he's shifted into his land form."       "Ah," said Wilson.  "I thought Doc built those."       "He did some earlier ones, but then one broke while he was busy with a crisis, so I took over maintenance and updates for a while.  Sealord seemed to like them.  He's not nearly as creepy in person as the media portrays him--you just have to think of him as a squid with a temporary human body, instead of a human with a squid head."       "Quite so.  I can attest to Sealord's proficiency at diplomacy; his negotiation skills and facility with human language do give him a great deal of influence, but he is more like a speaker for a very loose tribal coalition than a monarch.  That shows in how he shaped the Tokyo Compromise.  Are you familiar with the history behind it?"       Sam frowned.  "I know it's an agreement that's held for a long time, between the Deep Kingdoms and several human countries, but primarily Japan.  It's the reason giant sea monsters regularly attack Tokyo, but rarely bother other cities.  It's kind of unfair to Japan, because it was originally an attempt to settle a dispute about the harm large-scale fishing was causing in the Deep Kingdoms, and China is doing much more of that now.  But customs have grown up around it that mostly keep anyone from getting killed, and everyone is afraid things would get worse if they try to change it now."       "An excellent summary.  That is the essential motivation for maintaining many otherwise flawed international agreements, by the way; preventing incidents from escalating, a subject dear to my heart.  In any case, the Tokyo Compromise was never intended to be a long-term solution; it was a stopgap arranged by Sealord and the Volunteer to address the Deep Kingdoms' grievances and stop the majority of the coastal attacks pending a formal treaty.  Sealord insisted on a mechanism for informal expressions of displeasure, because he was concerned that commercial fishing interests would block any permanent settlement.  And he was right; it's been more than fifty years, and no treaty was ever signed."       He sipped his tea.  "But the Tokyo Compromise did not cover pollution.  If an oil spill seriously affects an ocean food web, the Deep Kingdoms can and have successfully demanded compensation in international courts.  The offenders usually operate either oil tankers or offshore drilling rigs, and are anxious to avoid any retaliation."       Wilson waved his free hand at the screen.  "Which brings us to Mr. Cook.  He and his brother own a number of petrochemical concerns that are notorious for oil spills, often ones that reach the Gulf of Mexico.  But they have used dubious pretexts for ignoring international court rulings.  The Deep Kingdoms don't have prisons for land dwellers and fines haven't been effective, so the Cook brothers are among the handful of humans that have been formally sentenced to death there."       Another sip of tea.  "Here is an interesting fact about Grand Cayman.  It's right on the edge of the Cayman Trench, which is the deepest part of the Caribbean.  And part of the Deep Kingdoms.  The seafloor a few miles south of Grand Cayman slopes downward quite steeply; in some places, it's almost like dropping off a cliff."       He smiled.  "Or swimming up one, if you happen to be going the other direction."       Sam stared at the huge eyes, which had just blinked again.  "Is that thing really going to--"       "Watch."       *****       There was no warning; one moment Sam was about to ask another question, and in the next the view had shifted and she was watching a large crocodile stride ashore in apparent slow motion.  It was wearing some kind of harness--was that a backpack?--and small creatures that looked like humanoid frogs scuttled beside it.  But why was it moving so slowly?       Oh.       It wasn't slow.  It was huge.  The lack of a scale reference had fooled her.  It was moving faster than a human could run, and the frog creatures--which were almost as big as humans--were falling behind.       "DASI.  Can we get audio?"       "Privacy block," replied DASI.  "There are locals inside that are not covered by the privacy removal sanction.  But I can summarize: An alarm has sounded and there is a mixture of unjustified bravado and pointless arguments about the lack of heavier weapons among the guards.  Ineffectual gunfire has begun from one upper window."       The mammoth crocodilian reached the house, and the great snout swung left and right, smashing open the entire seaward wall.       "Bravado and argument have ceased," said DASI.  "Screaming has begun."       The crocodile was now halfway inside the house--Sam doubted that its entire body would fit--and the frog creatures had caught up and were beginning to enter.       "There are numerous injuries, but no fatalities.  Gunfire has ceased.  Sobbing and prayers have begun.  Screaming continues."       "That's enough, DASI," said Sam.  "We get the idea."  She frowned.  "No fatalities?  That's surprising."       Wilson smiled.  "Not if you understand the purpose.  They are being quite careful, in order to--Ah, here we go."       The crocodile had reemerged from the wreckage of the house, apparently uninjured, and began plodding back towards the sea at a more leisurely pace.  The frog creatures flanked it on both sides.  There was no visible change except...       "That's a cage!" said Sam, waving at what she'd thought was a backpack.  It had a window, and a human figure was pounding on it from the inside.       "Indeed," said Wilson.       "What are they going to do with him?  You said the Deep Kingdoms don't have prisons."       "They don't.  They'll transport him to the edge of Deep Kingdoms territory, and then probably eat him.  That is the traditional method."       "Then why go to all that trouble?  Why not just eat him in the house?"       Sam watched as the crocodile and its assistants reached the water and disappeared back the way they had come.  The last glimpse of the cage showed the human still flailing at the window.       "Because if they killed him there, it would be assassination and arguably an act of war.  A line would be crossed.  This way it is an abduction of a non-citizen criminal who was an obvious flight risk, after refusal of a formal extradition request.  A representative for the Deep Kingdoms did file a request this morning, which was turned down.  So there is quite a bit of precedent."       "That's kind of disturbing."       "Yes.  It does, however, show respect for established practice."  Wilson set down his cup and met her eyes.  "I'm sure the Cayman Islands will file a diplomatic protest.  But they definitely won't start a war.  I imagine you can appreciate the distinction, these days."       Sam thought about her own status as a potential assassination target.  "Yeah.  I can."       Wilson smiled sympathetically.  "Welcome to international politics.  Tea?"       "I... Yes, thank you," she said.       The sunlight glinted as brightly as ever on the water, as the waves began to smooth the disturbed sand.

[blacksunradiance]

Nurarihyon no Mago Season 1, Volume 3: Gozu & Mezu, Run Away! (ゴズ＆メズ、ランナウェイ！) Cast: Gozumaru, Mezumaru, Karasu Tengu, Kiyotsugu, Wakana, Gyuuki

Released:  November 26, 2010

Running Time: 29 minutes

Summary: Fed up within living at the Nura Clan Main House, Gozu and Mezu try to escape - will they succeed?

Translation was done by a member of the now defunct NuraMago mangafox forums, but I believe they are the same user pika318 over on mangahelpers.

EDIT: Translation was done by x0401x!

Translation below.

Special Drama: GOZU & MEZU – RUNAWAY!

Wakana: *walking at the garden* Gozumaru-kun~? Mezumaru-kun~? *sigh* Where could the two have wandered off to? Karasu Tengu: *comes flying* Wakana-sama! Did something happen? Wakana: Ah, Karasu Tengu-kun! Ne, haven’t you seen Gozumaru-kun and Mezumaru-kun? Karasu Tengu: Gozumaru and Mezumaru? Have those two done anyth...? Don’t tell me, those two... have played a prank on Wakana-sama...?! Wakana: Eh? Karasu Tengu: Unallowable! Those two think they can do whatever just because they’re from Gyuuki Clan and keep overdoing it! Even to Rikuo-sama’s mother, Wakana-sama– Wakana: Ah, wrong, wrong! I just have a task for them... [tree branches moving] Wakana: Ara? Karasu Tengu: Shamelessly eavesdropping... THERE?! *throws something* Mezu: Aah, we were found out! Gozu: Let’s run, Mezumaru! Karasu Tengu: *grabs them* Wait!! M/G: Geh...?! Karasu Tengu: What did you think you were doing?! Spying and running away right in front of Wakana-sama?! Mezu: Y-you see... Gozu: It’s none of your business, right? Karasu Tengu: Of course it is, fool!! Now~, Wakana-sama~! You can punish these two as you please~! M/G: EEEH?! Wakana: I won’t do that! Aren’t Gozumaru-kun and him two poor things? Karasu Tengu: Oooh~! Wakana-sama, you’re so kind! Already forgetting the trouble these rude ones caused! Wakana: You keep misunderstanding... I just wanted the two to become girls~! Karasu Tengu: Is that so? You two should then obediently become Wakana-sama’s gir... *sweat-drops* “girls”? Wakana: Yes! Hora, you two are so cute~! You’d look neat in these clothes~! Karasu Tengu: T... these are...! Wakana: Cute, right~? I want the two to try them! Karasu Tengu: *sweat-drops* Aaah... but... why? Wakana: The truth is... I’ve always been longing for that! Not only having a son, but having a daughter, and have them try lots of cute clothes! Gozu: *sweat-drops* Aaah... Karasu Tengu: In that case, Yuki Onna or Kejourou would do... Wakana: But, Gozumaru-kun and him are also okay! Gozu: Don’t screw around!! We’re not your toys! Karasu Tengu: H-hey!! What kind of words are you using in front of Wakana-sama!? Wakana: I’m sorry... I didn’t think you’d dislike the idea that much... Gozu: We’re Gyuuki Clan warriors! You think we’d ever wear these things?! Mezumaru, maybe... Mezu: Gozumaru!! Karasu Tengu: Anyhow!! You two must obey!! Little ones, seize them! [youkai come from nowhere] Gozu: Uoooh?! What are these?! Mezu: There’re lots of small youkai...! I-I can’t move! Karasu Tengu: Wakana-sama, no worries. I’m sure these two are being nothing but timid. Wakana: Is that so? Gozu: Who’s being ti—nngh!! Karasu Tengu: There’s no reason for them not to follow Wakana-sama’s will. They’re merely anxious to put on these wonderful clothes as they pretend not to have interest in them. Gozu: Oazjsuhsfizsnhefhoijzfhhwhl!! Wakana: That’s it, ne~? The beginning will be embarrassing, but you’ll soon become happy with it, ne~? Thank you, Karasu Tengu-kun! Karasu Tengu: No, no... such thing... Hey! You lot! Hurry up and dress these two up! Small youkai: Yes~! Mezu: Wwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!! Hmmgh! Hmmmgh!! ~ G/M: *panting and running* Mezu: Haa... haa... mou, enough! I can’t run anymore... Gozu: Idiot!! Don’t stop, Mezumaru! We can’t let our guard down from that household, not even a little! We never know when those chibi youkai can appear again... Mezu: I know! Then... let’s hop in the carriage... Gozu: Idiot!! If we use something that huge, we’ll soon be found out! This isn’t a mountain, but a human-filled city! Mezu: What’s with that? Calling people “idiot, idiot” all the time! It’s not like running away was my idea! I was just following because Gozumaru said we had no choice! Gozu: You’d tag along just like that?! Well, mou, I get it! You can just go by yourself wherever you want— Mezu: Wah?! Ne, ne, look at that, Gozumaru! Gozu: Ah? Mezu: Hora! There! You see it, right?! Gozu: What? See what? Huh? What’s that... that big house? Mezu: It’s much bigger than a normal household, ne? I don’t remember ever seeing a house like that before... Gozu: True... h-heck! That doesn’t matter! Let’s go, Mezumaru! Mezu: I wanna go! Gozu: Ah? Mezu: I wanna try going there! I wanna try entering that enormous house! Gozu: Wai—what’re you saying? Instead of that, we should be runnin– Mezu: Just a little, isn’t it fine?! Let’s hide there! Gozu: We can’t! We don’t know that place! Mezu: If we’re not going in, then I’ll call the carriage! Gozu: Y... you... Mezu: Fair trading, right~? Moreover, I could call all of our Ushi-Oni comrades– Gozu: I-idiot! What are you thinking?! Mezu: Then, it’s decided, ne? Wai~! *runs* I wonder what’s in there~ Gozu: Oi! Wait, Mezumaru! *runs* Oi!! ~ [school bell] Gozu: What’s with this place? It’s full of human brats... Mezu: What is it, really? Humans gathered... maybe someone will eat them at once? Gozu: What?! There was such bastard at Nura Clan’s turf!? We should just throw them back to their place! Mezu: Gozumaru~! Ufu~! Gozu: W-what? What are you laughing at? Mezu: You always say those matters don’t concern you, but, in the end, you actually think of them as important, ne~? Gozu: Ah?! No way, right!? If something happens to them, it also affects the Gyuuki Clan, and– Mezu: *screams* Gozu: Eeh?! What is it this time?? Mezu: It’s Rikuo! Hora! There! Gozu: Ah, it’s true! Right there... but why is he at such place? Mezu: Ah, I remembered! Isn’t this... that place? Gozu: “That place”? Mezu: Ah, hora! The place where human children go... eh... ettooo... hum... it was certainly... ah! Kakkou! (T/N: “school” in Jap. is “gakkou”) [owl sounds] Gozu: This place’s called “school”, right?! Mezu: Aah! Yes, yes! That, that! “School”! Gozu: Haah... so this is that “school” thingy? I’ve heard about it, but, it really has a lot of brats... Mezu: Amazing, ne? Looks interesting, ne? Ah, ne, ne! Gozumaru! We also– Gozu: It’s no good! Mezu: Iiih?! I-I still hadn’t said anything!! Gozu: Your ideas are predictable! You wanted to stay here and play around with the brats, right? It’s no good, no good, no good. Mezu: Why~?! Mooou... Gozu: Do I really have to answer?! If anything should happen, it would trouble not only us, but also Gyuuki-sama! Mezu: It’s okay! If anything happens, you can just show off your Ushi-Oni claws, scary e~veryone, and then esca– Gozu: There’s no way we can do that, is there?! Rikuo is also here! And the bodyguards too... Mezu: Aah, is that so?? Gozu: Anyways, let’s just get off this place, before we’re found out by them... Kiyo: YOU GUYS! M/G: Aah? Kiyo: *gasps* It’s true...! Isn’t it true?! Gozu: What? A human? I thought the main house guys had found us... Mezu: are? I’ve seen him before somewhere... Kiyo: At school... and even in broad daylight! When I heard about it, I thought it couldn’t be, but really... aren’t there really are youkai here!? M/G: EEEH?! Kiyo: Aah, how can I put it?! This president of the Kiyojuuji Kaiki Tanteidan, Kiyotsugu, just had a meeting like this in this sort of place– Gozu: Oi, what do we do, Mezumaru?! He knows we’re youkai! Later, Karasu Tengu will definitely know about this! Mezu: Eh?! Don’t wanna! As I thought... you really should summon your Ushi-Oni... Kiyo: What are you talking about there? Mezu: Aaah! Kiyo: Won’t you let me chat with you too~? Because, aren’t we nakama? Gozu: N-nakama?! Mezu: Lies!! That’s totally wrong, isn’t it?! Kiyo: No such thing! I’m the same as you! Gozu: Eh? Is that so? Mezu: Could it be... he’s the same sort as us...? Kiyo: Aah! I’m the same sort as you. The same sort of... youkai-lover!! M/G: Haa? Gozu: “Youkai... Mezu: ...Lover”?! Kiyo: Aah, exactly! You really impressed me with these costumes! Going as far as walking in broad daylight in the form of the youkai you like! Gozu: “Youkai... form”...? Mezu: Ne, ne, what is he saying, this guy? Gozu: Ah! Could it be, this guy... has mistaken us for humans? Mezu: Eeeh~?! Kiyo: You, there! Your costume is that, right?! Gozu: Eh? Me?? Kiyo: The youkai who lurks in the mountains and preys on people... it’s Gozumaru! Gozu: Oh? Ooh... that’s it... Kiyo: And you’re his buddy, Mezumaru! Mezu: Oh? H-Hm... I’m Mezumaru. Kiyo: Ah~! Aren’t you two amazing? Even these long hairs! They even look natural! Mezu: Haha, “look natural”, you say? Gozu: Oi, let’s go, Mezumaru. Let’s not waste time with him... Kiyo: But you really did it well... specially this Gozumaru! He even has the Katana and all and brings up the perfect atmosphere! It almost looks like a real blade, ne? Gozu: Eh? Kiyo: Successor of the great youkai called Gyuuki, Gozumaru! His strength and fitness, combined with his wild looks are extremely intimidating! Gozu: I... is that so...? Mezu: Ah! Ne, ne! What about me? Kiyo: Wah! You’re wonderful too! These bones on your head... they almost look real! Mezu: That’s not it! How about strength?? Or coolness?? Kiyo: Well, well, there are a lot of tales about that! If you’d like, won’t you come to my secret room? The room where my Kiyojuuji Kaiki Tanteidan gathers! Mezu: Uwah! Seems interesting! Aah, but... Gozumaru would probably say “no good”, so... Gozu: I... it’s fine. Mezu: I-i-i-it is?! Gozu: We-well, it’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything! It’ll just be a little talk. Mezu: Gozumaru... could it be... you’re happy you were praised? Gozu: D’ah?! N-No such thing!! I don’t care about anything he said about me, intimidation, fitness, or Gyuuki-sama, or the Katana!! Mezu: You’re definitely happy, ne~? Kiyo: Wow... but the two of you should have a change, no~? G/M: Eh? Kiyo: To express more of your feeling of love for youkai... wouldn’t it be better representing more famous ones? Mezu: “More famous”? Gozu: Heck, it’s not like this is an actual costume or anything... Kiyo: Besides, almost no one knows youkai such as Gozumaru and Mezumaru, unlike me! M/G: WHA-?! Kiyo: Gyuuki would be much better, right? Instead of Gozumaru, who’s a non-big deal, petty youkai people wouldn’t know the name in comparison, ne~! Even I almost didn’t recognize you upon seeing the costume! Gozu: Grr... who... who’s the petty youkai people wouldn’t know the nameee?! *releases Fear* Kiyo: Guaah?! Mezu: Wai—Gozumaru!! Gozu: Don’t screw around, human!! I’ll make sure you never forget my name! I’ll engrave it in your body!! Mezu: You can’t! The one who said we couldn’t do that because Rikuo was here was Gozumaru, right?! Gozu: Shad’dap! Let go, Mezumaru! Mezu: I’m saying you can’t! Let’s go, Gozumaru! *drags him* Gozu: Aaaah!! Leeet gooo!! Uuuurrgh!! Kiyo: A... ah... getting this angry... it can’t be... those two really... really...!! Really love youkai!! Ah~! Alright~! From now on, I should... (voice fading away – can’t hear much of what he says) ~ Gozu: Grrr... that human bastard... Mezu: Eeeh, Gozumaru, still angry? Gozu: Of course! Didn’t you feel anything?! Mezu: It’s not like I didn’t, but since Gozumaru is that angry, guess you’re angry for both of us and my anger faded? Gozu: Aah, that’s right! You’re that kind of guy! Mezu: Well, well! Let’s forget the past! Let’s have fun now! Looks like we’ve come to another interesting-looking place! Gozu: Tch... by the way... what’s this place? [city sounds] Gozu: There’s a lot of humans again... is there a festival too? Mezu: Uwah~! There’re some interesting items too! Gozu: Aah?! Don’t we live in the same mountain?! Mezu: But, as expected, I know about this stuff. This isn’t a festival. Gozu: Then, what is it? Mezu: This is... called carnival! Gozu: “Carnival”? Mezu: Hm! Carnival! Gozu: What’s... different in it from a festival? Mezu: Dunno. Gozu: “Dunno”, huh? Mezu: An everyday gathering of lots of people isn’t a carnival? Gozu: There’s this many humans every day? Mezu: Of course! It’s noisy and somewhat fun, ne~? Carnival! Gozu: “Carnival”? Mezu: Yeah! Carnival! Gozu: I... somehow don’t feel so... Mezu: Ah! Ne, ne! Look at that! Gozu: Huh? What is that store? Mezu: Let’s give a closer look! *runs* Gozu: Ah! Oi! You’re doing it again! *runs* ~ Gozu: What’s this...? Mezu: What might this be, ne~? Gozu: There’re lots of dolls in this transparent box... Mezu: Maybe this is a doll store? Gozu: Why are they in this box? Mezu: Nah~! What’s the problem with dolls in a grass box? Maybe they’re light-footed dolls! Gozu: There’s no such thing like that! Mezu: Ne, ne~! Gozumaru~! Gozu: Ngh... I suddenly have a bad feeling... Mezu: Gozumaru~! Buy t-h-i-s~! Gozu: No good. Mezu: Eeeeh?! I wanna, I wanna, I wannaaa! Buy it, buy it, buy iiit!! Gozu: Shut up!! How old are you?! Mezu: Mekkun is three yearsh old~! *baby voice* Gozu: We’ve been living for centuries, you and me!! Mezu: Grrr... what’s that? Gozumaru, you big meanie! Gozu: Besides, if we bought something so big, where would you hide it?! It’d be a real problem! We can’t go back to Nejireme Mountain. Mezu: Ah... is that so? Gozu: It is. We’re under custody of the main house because of Gyuuki-sama’s orders. Mezu: That’s right... we... can’t go back, ne? Gozu: Aah. Mezu: Until when won’t we be able to go back? Until when will it be like this? Away from the mountain... *sobs*  Gozu: Oi. Mezumaru. Mezu: What? Gozu: It’s fine. Mezu: “Fine”... you say...? Gozu: Like I said... it’s fine to buy this thing!  Mezu: Gozumaru?! Gozu: Don’t misunderstand. It’s because you were acting like a spoiled brat... so I had no choice.  Mezu: Thank you, Gozumaru! Gozu: Like I said, don’t misunderstand! I just... Mezu: But... it’s impossible. Gozu: Ah? Mezu: Like I said, with this face of yours, it’s impossible to go on! Mou, come on! It’s obvious it was a joke, isn’t it? Even so, Gozumaru took it seriously! “Don’t misunderstand”... that’s my line! Well, those kinds of words are cute, though~!  Gozu: Y... yo... YOOOUUU!! Mezu: Anyways, Gozumaru, don’t you have 100￥? Gozu: AAH?! Mezu: Like I said, 100￥. To put in this. Gozu: Does that mean... this needs money to work? Mezu: That’s it. Gozu: Why do we have to do that? Mezu: Mou~! Gozumaru really doesn’t know anything! This huge box isn’t meant to be sold! Gozu: Eh? Is that so? Mezu: That’s it! This is... called vending machine! Gozu: “Vending... machine”? Mezu: Yeah! “Vending machine”! There was also one at the bottom of Nejireme Mountain, right? If you put money here, you can buy something that’s inside and it comes out! Gozu: Ah, is that so? Is that why there are so many dolls in it? Mezu: Ne, ne! That’s why, 100￥! Gimme~? Gozu: I haven’t got that. Mezu: Eh?! How come?! Gozu: There’s no way youkai have human money! Even if I had, why would I have to spend on you? Mezu: Gozumaru, you meanie! Big meanie! Isn’t it fine, just 100￥?! Mou... no choice... I’ll use my own 100￥. Gozu: So you had your own?! Mezu: Then, I’ll put it in! [music plays] Gozu: Aah?! What?! Mezu: Mou... don’t keep getting impressed at everything! This music starts playing once you insert the money. Next, a doll from there will soon come out soon... [music keeps playing] Gozu: Oi... nothing’s coming out. Mezu: Are? Gozumaru, could it be it’s broken? Gozu: I won’t touch this! Mezu: Weird... it’s supposed to come out from here... hm? Gozu: Look at this. Mezu: what’s “this”? Gozu: Ora. Here. This shiny thing. Shouldn’t you press it? Mezu: Ah! That’s it, that’s it! If we don’t press this button, nothing comes out! Well, just a little detail, ne~? Gozu: What’s “just a little detail”? Mezu: Then I’ll press it! Ih~! *presses button* [machine sounds] Gozu: Oooh?! Mezu: Are? Something... like a hand moved inside the box. Gozu: Could it be... this is what is used to catch a doll? Mezu: Ah, is that it~? It moves with this button and grabs with this other button! Ei~! *presses other button* [more machine sounds] Gozu: Hoho, there it goes! Mezu: Alri~ght! With this, I’ll get that cute one... Gozu: You got it! Mezu: Just a little more, just a little more... just a little more... *gasps* Gozu: Ah... Mezu: Aah, I dropped it! Gozu: Dang... you’re no good at anything... Mezu: Then, if it’s Gozumaru, you can do it? Gozu: Obviously! Something this simple... Mezu: “Simple”... what? Gozu: Nothing! Let’s go!! Mezu: Ne, ne! Gozumaru also wants to do it, right? Gozumaru~! I’m talking to you~! ~ Mezu: Nngh! Ice is delicious, ne, Gozumaru? Gozu: *licking ice cream* Hm... good. Mezu: Be more grateful! I bought Gozumaru’s share after all! Gozu: By the way, how come you have that much human money? Mezu: Allowance! Gozu: “Allowance”? Mezu: Rikuo’s Okaa-san gave it yesterday, right? She tried giving it to Gozumaru too, but you said you didn’t need it. Gozu: T-that’s... obvious!! Think I’d accept alms from humans?! Mezu: Ah~! It was delicious~! Then, let’s go back? Gozu: HAAH?! Mezu: No “haah”! We can’t stay here forever. Gozu: Wait, wait!! Don’t you remember why we’re in this situation!? Mezu: Hm? Why, again? Gozu: *exhales deeply* Just how much air-headed can you be? Mezu: It’s fine! Over there, they probably forgot it too! If it’s no good, we can escape again! Gozu: You remember, don’t you?! Mezu: Or we could turn noisy Karasu Tengu into grilled bird and eat him. Gozu: I wouldn’t eat that... anyways, I’m not going back! Mezu: Eh? Then, what will you do? Is it okay for us to stay forever away from home? For us, Nejireme Mountain is no longer– Gozu: Shut up!! No need to say it! I know that already! *sulks* I know it... Mezu: *sighs* There, there... *pats* Gozu: Gh... gh... DON’T PAT MY HEAD!! Mezu: I get it. If Gozumaru isn’t going back, I’m not going back either. Gozu: heh? Mezu: Let’s always be together, Gozumaru! Gozu: Mezumaru... Mezu: Well, it’s surely fun wherever we go, ne? As long as I and Gozumaru are there, the two of us! Gozu: It doesn’t matter if it’s fun, right?! Heck... don’t you have your head anywhere but on playing around? Mezu: Mou, not compliant at all, huh? If you’re happy, it’s okay to say you’re happy! Gozu: Who’s happy? Random old man: Hum...  G/M: Uh? Random old man: You two... do you have a moment? Gozu: Ah? What is it? Mezu: Ojii-san, do you need anything from us? Random old man: Aah. In fact, Ojii-san needs you to... [car passing by] ~ Wakana: Hm... where could Gozumaru-kun and the other have wandered off to? Karasu Tengu: Still worried about those two, Wakana-sama? Wakana: Because, Karasu Tengu-kun, those children are not coming back. It’s quite a while since they left. Karasu Tengu: Honestly... being placed under the custody of the main house just to become nuisances... there’s no mistaking that Gyuuki should be the one taking responsibility for this if he wasn’t away! Wakana: *sighs* I’m worried... Karasu Tengu: I’ll request my children to look for those two. Like this, you don’t need to worry any longer. Now, now, go watch some TV... *turns on TV* Wakana: *sigh* I don’t feel like watching TV at... ara? Karasu Tengu: But... it’s good, isn’t it~? This TV thing... In mine and Supreme Commander’s younger times, I wouldn’t have imagined such thing would ever be created even in my dreams... Wakana: Wait! This is...! Karasu Tengu: Ooh, there was some sort of big TV show that started airing recently, right? That one person who had made a contract with the cable TV was said to be– Wakana: T-that’s not it! That! Look at that! Karasu Tengu: Hah? “That” would be...? Wakana: It’s that! Tha~t! Karasu Tengu: Hm? Has anything in this TV show caught Wakana-sama’s attent—uoooh?! Wakana: Those children... no mistaking, ne? Karasu Tengu: W-why... are Gozumaru and Mezumaru... in such a place?! [audience laughs] Old man: So happy, so happy~! Gozumaru-kun, Mezumaru-kun~! Ojii-san’s intuitions about you two were really accurate! Mezu: Hehehe~! Are you really that happy? All we did was to stand there smiling. Old man: Nah, just that is fine! You are all we need to make this show! This is the birth of new idols! From today on, your legend starts! Mezu: Uwah~! “Our legend”, huh~? Old man: I’ll be counting on you to do the same as earlier! Then, Ojii-san will be watching everything from the background! Mezu: Yes~! Old man: Do your best, ne, Gozumaru-kun, Mezumaru-kun! Bye! Mezu: No~w, let’s do our bests next time too, Gozumaru? Gozu: Hah. Mezu: Are? Why are you so serious? Just a while ago, you also weren’t laughing at all... could it be, you’re trying to keep this kind of character? Gozu: *mutters* Tch... what’s with that... you... Mezu: Mou~! Hang in there~! That Ojii-san even paid us a good meal right then and there! If we don’t do our bests, Ojii-san’s expectations will– Gozu: SHUT UP!!! [audience whispers] Mezu: Wai—why did you raise your tone?! Aah! Everyone! Sorry! It was nothing~! Gozu: Heh... quite a ragtag there... we, warriors from the Gyuuki clan, having to entertain those humans... besides, making a spectacle... Mezu: Aah, hora! It’ll soon be our turn! Gozu: Who cares?! You can just do it on your own! Mezu: What are you saying?! Hora! It’ll start! ~ Mezu: Hello~! I’m Mezumaru~! This is my friend, Gozumaru~! Gozu: Stop!! Mezu: Ah, wai... wai...! Aah, sorry! Gozumaru is a bit nervous~! Gozu: Oi, you’re really okay with this? Our pride as Gyuuki clan members will soon disappear, oi! Mezu: *laughs nervously* Ah, mou, what are you saying? What Gozumaru really wants to say isn’t that, right? Gozu: What?? Mezu: This is sudden, but, Gozumaru has a message to pass on! Gozu: What are you...?! Mezu: Live broadcast to the whole country! Take this rare change to spread this message to your important person~! Gozu: W-what are you saying?! I... such a thing... Mezu: Exists, doesn’t it? Gozu: Hoi?! Mezu: For that reason, I decided to come to this TV studio~! Gozu: W-what does that mean?? Mezu: He could be... watching this TV show, ne? Gyuuki-sama, that is. Gozu: Hah...! Mezu: There is, right? Something you want to say. Gozu: Mezumaru...! You had that purpose from the start?? Mezu: Ah, ora, ora! Hurry up and say it! If the camera stops, your long-awaited chance will be gone! Hora! Gozumaru! Gozu: Agh...! T-That... G... Gyuuki-sama!! I...! I...! Mezu: Hora! Gather some courage! Gozu: I...!! I WANT TO BE BY GYUUKI-SAMA’S SIDE!!! Mezu: alright~! That’s the spirit! Gozu: I’m sorry, Gyuuki-sama! But... at this rate, we’ll be no good! The main house isn’t our place! Our place is... only the place where Gyuuki-sama is! That’s why... THAT’S WHY, PLEASE, GYUUKI-SAMA!! Karasu Tengu: *slams wings onto the table* Th... THOSE GUUUYS~~~!! Mentioning a Nura clan youkai... in the te-te-television transmission...!! [Gozumaru’s voice on the TV: That’s why... THAT’S WHY, PLEASE, GYUUKI-SAMA!!] Wakana: Gozumaru-kun... Karasu Tengu: It’s a big issue! IT’S A BIG ISSUE!! An issue of Gyuuki’s responsibility! A huge responsibility that should fall upon the Gyuuki cla—uoah?! My foot... hit the table... *moans in pain* Even... E-Even this is their... ah, is theeeeir~~~!!  ~ [door being opened] Gozu: Eeeght!! Mezu: Aaagh!! Mou~! That hurts~! It’s not like venting a little isn’t okay, right? Just trying to make things more exciting... [door being harshly closed] Mezu: Buah! What, what?! Hmph! It’s fine, ne~! Next time, we’ll call our comrades and make things even more– Gozu: Quit that, Mezumaru. Mezu: Eh? Gozu: It’s fine. Let’s go. Mezu: But... is it really fine? Gozu: I said what I wanted to say. We don’t have anything to do here anymore. Mezu: Gozumaru... if Gozumaru says so, then... Gozu: My bad... Mezu: Eh? Gozu: Because of me, we’re left with no place to return to again. Mezu: T-t... that’s not it! Ah, hora! Gozumaru’s place to return... could be by my side...?  Gyuuki: Your place to return is obvious. Gozu: *gasp* Mezu: This voice... it can’t be... Gyuuki: *walking up to them* G/M: Gyuuki-sama! Gyuuki: Hmm... you’ve really done it, huh, you guys? Gozu: N... no excuses!! However... we are... we are...! Gyuuki: “We are”... what? Gozu: Like I said... t-that... Gyuuki: I asked “‘we are’ what?”. Gozu: *gasps* N... no excuses, Gyuuki-sama! N... no excuses... gh... no... exc... Mezu: please wait, Gyuuki-sama!! Gyuuki: Hmm? Gozu: Mezumaru... Mezu: Gozumaru is... Gozumaru is not at fault! Gyuuki: Oh? What’s the meaning of this? Mezu: Gozumaru was just... following around what I suggested... ah, ora! Because Gozumaru is so easy! Gozu: W-who is the easy one?! Who is... Mezu: Anyways! Gozumaru is not at fault! That’s why... if you’re angry, I... Gozu: wait! O-Oi... I don’t remember needing to be helped out by yo– Mezu: It’s okay, isn’t it?! Because we’re buddies– Gyuuki: Enough! M/G: *gulp* Gyuuki: Honestly, you guys are... Gozu: Gyuuki-sama... Mezu: We’re sorry... Gyuuki: Let’s go back. Gozu: Eh...? Mezu: “Go back”... huh...? Gyuuki: It’s obvious, isn’t it? To the place of return of you two. Gozu: T-that means...?! Mezu: Gozumaru!! We... could it be...?! Gyuuki: What’s wrong?! Let’s go, you guys! M/G: Gyuuki-sama!! Gozu: THANK YOU VERY MUCH! Mezu: We did it, ne, Gozumaru?! Gozu: Aah! We... we finally...!! *screams* ~ [nightly sounds] Gozu: Gyu... Gyuuki-sama... Mezu: This is... Gyuuki: Sorry, Karasu Tengu. Karasu Tengu: Honestly, Gyuuki! Do you understand? This is the result of you being so soft on them! Gyuuki: That’s right. I have no means to repair that. Karasu Tengu: Well, at least you went to get them back when the clan members couldn’t. I, too, am relieved you didn’t cause the Supreme Commander any problems... Gyuuki: You’re kind. From today on, too, I entrust these two to you. Mezu: Wa-wa-wait, Gyuuki-sama!! Weren’t we supposed to go back to Gyuuki clan?! Gyuuki: What are you saying? The place you reside in is... Nura clan’s main house. Mezu: No way~~~~! Gozu: I-it’s impossible, Gyuuki-sama! I can’t stay in this place anym... Gyuuki: Gozumaru... there’s nothing but this household I can offer as your residence. Gozu: b-but...! Gyuuki: Please, Gozumaru. I’ll place my hopes in you. Gozu: *gasps* “hopes”...?! In me...?? Gyuuki: Okay? Gozu: *gulps* YES, GYUUKI-SAMA!! Mezu: Mou... that’s why I said you were easy! Wakana: *gasps* Gozumaru-kun! Mezumaru-kun! M/G: Ugh?! Wakana: Mou, you weren’t coming back, so I was worried... But, if you two want, it’s okay for you to always come back and try more new cute cloth– Gozu: Let’s escape, Mezumaru. Mezu: Bye! Gozu: EXCUSE US, GYUUKI-SAMA! M/G: *run* Karasu Tengu: *flying* Hey! You two! Where are you going?! Gozu: This kind of place... like I can stay in this kind of place!! I’ll definitely go back (to Nejireme)!! *screams*