#but while searching for references found this and had to make a quick detour

[into-the-feniverse]

Quick sketchy doodle of the gang 🫶

Reference image under the cut

[promptthebear]

Peter Pevensie x F!Reader

Summary: You end up stranded in Narnia after a routine errand with your family goes awry. The Pevensie siblings take you on an outing to a nearby lake to help pass the time. Chaos ensues. Fem!Reader, set during The Golden Age, written in 2nd person with reader referred to as "you"

A/N: So...this is also using the prompt "Oh look, my will to live, it's gone" bc the anon who sent it also requested Peter and after I did the Tormund version I couldn't get this idea out of my head so...Peter anon wherever you are. Enjoy.

The whole thing was, as usual, Edmund’s fault.

You and your parents had come to pay the Narnian royal family a visit. It was meant to be a quick trip, your father only wanted to petition King Peter for some rights to more farmland when the simple errand was waylaid by a broken carriage wheel. Thankfully, the accident had happened just outside city limits but had left you with an injured driver and no way home.

Since then, you had all been guests at the Cair for nearly three weeks while a solution was found. Under normal circumstances, being stranded anywhere would’ve been tedious at best, with nothing to do but wile away the long days in some dusty inn. You instead found yourself quite enjoying your little detour, given that you were of an age with King Peter and each of his siblings give or take a couple years. They hadn’t hesitated to bring you into the fold, filling your waking hours with various distractions and excursions.

Today’s particular trip had been to the lake, a pleasant little spot with a pebbly beach, calm green waters and a dock for fishing about an hour’s ride from the castle. While Narnian summer wasn’t quite in full swing, it was still a much hotter country than you were used to and you appreciated the cool breeze that danced across the water and gently caressed your skin.

“Do you swim, my Lady?”

At the sound of Peter’s voice, you turned, and gave the King a shy smile.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. Ettismoor is a frigid land, barren and mostly made of mountains. There aren’t any lakes that I’m aware of, so I never really had the means to learn.”

“Pity,” Peter replied “These waters are perfect for it.”

“We could always teach you, couldn’t we Peter?” Lucy piped up from where she was skipping rocks along the shore line “You’re practically part fish, yourself. Everyone always says so.”

The tips of Peter’s ears suddenly turned red, though whether that was from heat or something else, you couldn’t say.

“You and Susan might have to do the teaching, Lu.” he said, clearing his throat “I don’t think our guest is quite ready to have me prancing about in my smallclothes just yet.”

Lucy let out a giggle, before turning back to searching the ground for flat rocks.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m so used to all of us swimming together, I forgot we aren’t exactly dressed in “proper” clothes when we do.”

You quickly ducked your head, and stared fixedly down at the water. Whether you had wanted it to or not, your mind had snatched up the idea of Peter in a state of undress and run with it. The more you tried to push it away, the more insistent the idea became and the hotter your face grew.

What would he look like, you couldn’t help but wonder, stripped of his doublets and tunics? He’d be well muscled, certainly. You knew he was strong, the other day he’d lifted you onto the back of your horse as easily as someone else might lift a cup of tea. The question was whether that strength was in his arms alone, or if he’d been blessed with a wide chest and chiseled stomach as well? And would he be smooth skinned under his clothes? Or would he have a healthy dusting of hair across his torso, not unlike the reddish beard that adorned his face?

“Penny for your thoughts, my lady?”

The sound of Peter’s voice made you start slightly, and you turned to him, hoping you didn’t look as frantic as you felt. You longed to come up with something witty and clever, something that would make him laugh and flash that devastating smile your way. Though, given that your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could hardly think, perhaps coherent was a better choice.

“I-”

A sudden, loud shriek from the general direction of the shore saved you from having to answer. Thankful for the distraction, you glanced over your shoulder and were surprised to see Susan running towards you at full pelt, with Edmund hot on her heels.

“Edmund! You get that disgusting creature away from me, this instant!” the young queen shouted, all decorum forgotten in her panic.

“Oh come on, Sue, it could be a prince! Why don’t you kiss him and see?”

As the two came closer, you glimpsed something small and greenish clutched in Edmund’s cupped hands. You knew right away it was a frog, and shuddered sympathetically on Susan’s behalf. You didn’t much care for the beasts either. Their wet skin and bulging eyes made your stomach turn.

“Will you behave yourselves?” Peter bellowed, his voice taking on a distinct kingly quality “For Aslan’s sake, Ed, we’re not children anymore!”

Neither Susan nor Edmund paid any attention to their brother’s admonishing. Instead, they kept on their chaotic race, down from the grassy shore, across the beach where pebbles flew in their wake and right onto the little dock where you and Peter currently stood.

“Edmund, I’m serious, if you don’t stop it this instant I’m going to thump you so hard-”

“Pucker up, Susan! You don’t want your betrothed to think you don’t like him, do you?”

“Oi! Watch out!”

You’d taken a step backwards to try and escape from the fracas, only to find your boot sinking through thin air rather than onto the dock like you’d planned. All too quickly, the rest of your body followed suit, sending you backwards towards the water, shrieking and flailing like a windmill.

The cold hit you first, making you feel as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice over your head. You opened your mouth to scream again, perhaps on the slim chance someone would come to your aid, only to have your nose and throat immediately fill with water. Now the cold was inside of you, clawing into the pit of your stomach and freezing your bones in place. You could feel your body tensing with shock, making your feeble attempts to swim to the surface all the more impossible.

Then again, what difference did it make if you tried or not anymore? In order to get to the surface, you needed to know where it was and after being tossed and turned around in this frigid, murky nightmare you weren’t even sure which way was up anymore. The fact of the matter was that you were going to drown, your young life cut short all because you’d never learned to swim.

With your lungs burning and your heart pounding in your ears, you closed your eyes and let your body go limp. Once you stopped fighting, the water seemed to respond in kind. For a moment, you felt strangely peaceful, as though the lake was cradling you in its embrace. You allowed the weight of your shoes and dress to pull you down further into the darkness, imagining you were snuggled deep beneath the blankets on your own bed at home. You were going to die anyway, so why make your last moments fearful ones when you could simply…let go?

You had no sooner accepted your fate when you found yourself suddenly being wrenched in what you assumed was an upward direction. Someone, or something, had managed to hook itself beneath your armpits and was tugging you free of the water with a surprising amount of strength.

Faintly, you recalled that there were merfolk living in Narnia, though the idea only confused you further. Surely if there were such a people, they would be living in the oceans by the coast? And not in some little lake way off in the forests? Whatever this thing was, it seemed determined to save you, and who were you to be ungrateful?

All thoughts of mermaids and otherwise vanished as your rescuer finally brought you to the surface. The moment your face broke through the water, you took deep gasping breaths even though each one stung as though your lungs were filled with angry hornets.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You tried to place the source of the voice, though when you looked up you could see nothing more than a hazy silhouette, haloed by the bright afternoon sunshine. The shape was human enough, but aside from that there was nothing human about it.

Where people were made of flesh and blood, this being was made of diamonds and spun gold. Nothing in the mortal world could be this beautiful. You reached up to touch your rescuer’s face, your addled mind convinced that if you could just make contact with them somehow, then all that goodness and beauty would flow into you and make your head stop aching so abominably.

It was only when your fingers brushed against the curls of a beard that you finally clued in.

Peter.

“I’m okay!” you all but shouted, sitting up so quickly you nearly smacked your head off the King’s chin. He had been kneeling over you, almost cradling your body within the frame of his arms as he’d inspected you for damage. It actually would’ve been rather nice, were it not for the fact that you were utterly mortified.

“Steady,” Peter said, bringing one of his hands to rest against the small of your back “You don’t want to move too quickly, my lady, otherwise-”

Right on cue you began to cough, your lungs rejecting all the water within them as a fish’s gills reject air. You clung to Peter’s arm for dear life as your body trembled with the effort, your fingers tangling in smooth silk of his sleeve.

The King sat with you while you shook, his blue eyes clouding with concern as he rubbed your back soothingly and murmured faint words of encouragement you couldn’t quite hear. When the spasms had finally run their course, he slipped his arm around your middle and gently guided you to your feet. The simple act of standing made your head spin, and you clung to Peter all the more tightly, far less worried about propriety than you were about not falling back in the lake.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, adjusting his hold on your waist before rounding on his siblings.

“Are you happy now, Ed? Now that you’ve nearly killed someone? I hope your foolishness was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” the other king mumbled, his expression of boyish contrition making for a strange contrast with his manly features “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Why am I not surprised? Could you perhaps try and look at her when you apologize? I think you owe her that much, at least..”

“I’d…I’d rather not.”

Peter’s brow creased, the eyes beneath them flashing with rage. He was no longer a King, but rather an exasperated older brother, just like a hundred others in his kingdom.

“Ed, of all the disrespectful-first you practically drown the poor girl and now you don’t even to have the decency to look her in the eye when you-”

“Peter.”

Four heads, yours, Edmund’s, Lucy’s and Peter’s, all turned towards Susan. The young Queen’s face was serenely calm, which was at odds with her bright pink cheeks. Susan didn’t strike you as the type to get embarassed or angry often, so what exactly was it that could have her in this state?

“Peter. She’s…she’s soaked.”

You stared at Susan, equally as puzzled as her brother. Of course you were wet, you’d just gone for a surprise dip in the lake. Why was that such a cause for concern?

Unfortunately, you and Peter happened to glance down at the same moment. Your pale green, silk dress, which had seemed like such a clever choice this morning given the heat, was sticking to you like a second skin. Every part of your body was visible, from the divot of your navel to the outline of your breasts and the curves of your thighs and ass. For all the good your dress was doing you, you may as well have been standing there as naked as the day you were born.

“Oh look,” you said to no one in particular as you brought your hands up to preserve what little modesty you could “My will to live, it’s gone.”

“Damn it all” Peter said, flushing red to his hairline “Come here, let’s get you sorted.”

No sooner had the words left Peter’s lips then you became aware of movement from the corner of your eye. You stole a glance up from your feet, and were surprised to see Peter’s fingers flying down the length of buttons on the front of his shirt. With each one opened, another inch of the King’s skin became visible, and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t help but stare. Was this really happening?

Your fantasies hadn’t been too far off. Peter was strong, the muscles in his arms flexing as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders. A dusting of curly, reddish hair adorned his chest and stomach, growing in thickness and darkening in color the closer it got to the waistband of his pants. He was also covered in freckles, which spread across his shoulders like a cloak and most likely went down the length of his back.

If Peter noticed your staring, he thankfully didn’t seem bothered by it.

As soon as he’d removed his shirt, he was draping it over your shoulders, guiding your arms into the sleeves and doing up the buttons as though you were a child. You stood, dumbfounded, your mouth dry and your throat tight. The shirt still held the warmth of Peter’s flesh, and smelled faintly of soap and sweat.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” you said, your voice noticeably hoarse.

“You’re welcome.” Peter replied, giving you a warm smile and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He seemed far more comfortable now that you were covered.

“I think it’s time we head home, don’t you?”

This was from Lucy, who had been rather silent throughout the whole debacle, but as always had a keen knack for jumping in with the perfect suggestion at the perfect moment.

“High time,” came Edmund’s answer, and he quickly turned heel and started walking back towards the shoreline, as though if he ran quickly enough he could outrun the fact that he caused this mess in the first place.

The other Pevensies followed suit, Susan going after Edmund, Lucy following Susan and you and Peter bringing up the rear. Much to your surprise, the King was holding your hand, gently guiding you back towards shore, as though he was afraid you’d drift off if he let go.

As you walked, your eyes were drawn to the lines of Peter’s back, hungrily tracing his shoulders and the slant of his waist like you were trying to commit them to memory. Much like you’d thought, his back was covered in freckles, the faint dots forming constellations across Peter’s smooth, tanned skin. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, wrap your arms around his middle and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Peter was still walking, but he’d turned his head to the side so he could glance at you over his shoulder. The sight of his blue eyes, looking at you so intently, made your pulse quicken.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you said, hoping against hope he hadn’t felt your stare.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry Edmund is such a prat. We’ve been waiting for him to grow up for ages, but somehow I don’t think it’s ever going to really happen.”

“No harm done, your majesty” You replied, keeping your eyes trained downwards so you wouldn’t slip on the rocky shore and make yourself into an even bigger fool “Thank you, for rescuing me, and for loaning me your shirt.”

Peter chuckled softly, and shook his blonde curls from his eyes before speaking.

“You’re welcome. I actually think it suits you better than me, anyway.”

[alfredosauce50]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some Romano + Prussia x royal reader (separate) headcannons? I'm a sucker for a good forbidden romance and would be happy to see what you want to do with it. Thank you!

Yes, of course! Sorry for the kinda late response--I got carried away writing other things. What a coincidence that I've been doing a lot of exploring in fantasy! The reader is referred to as she/her.

Forbidden Romance Headcanons - Prussia and S. Italy

Prussia - The earnest pickpocket and sheltered princess

Unfortunately, Gilbert is on the wrong side of history. As an albino, he's been an outcast ever since he was born. In an age of superstition and class divide, his parents had no problem abandoning an extra mouth to feed. Especially when they were a demon with magical powers. Left to fend for himself as a baby, he only ever survived thanks to the generosity of an old neighbor. When they passed away due to old age, he had to get on by himself on the streets. Stealing, lying, whatever it takes to get some quick cash. And he's been doing it ever since he was five.

He loved fairytales ever since he was a kid. His guardian always told him these stories before bedtime, after all. They said it was good luck to give the princess a flower, and he remembered this a few years later during the royal parade in town. Pushing through the crowd of onlookers, he held out a small dandelion hoping you would take it. Before the guards could swat him away, you took the flower with a smile. All you remembered from that time was a small and dirty face gleaming up at you. And, of course, a pair of striking red eyes you would never forget.

In his adolescence, he became a thief with quick hands. It wasn't until he took on the most dangerous job of all did he make himself a public enemy. Stealing the royal family's jewels. And he would've gotten away with it if he wasn't forced to take a detour through the princess's bedroom. Unbeknownst to him, you were wide awake. Immediately, you recognized him as the little boy from that day. Without thinking, you hid him in your wardrobe until the guards left. That was the start of a strange friendship forged between two people from two worlds--a dirt-poor criminal and the well-loved princess of a thriving kingdom.

He visits you from time to time by climbing up the side of the castle. When he first did it, you practically throttled him by his collar, screaming, “Do you have a death wish? They'll throw you to the lions if you get caught!”. He simply responds with, “The awesome me never gets caught! That's why I'm here, ja?” Soon, this becomes routine until you learn to trust him.

Gilbert loves gloating about his adventures as a street rat, whether it's about singlehandedly beating up gangs of bullies or outrunning the palace guards. As a sheltered person of royalty, his stories reflect experiences alien to you. But it opens your eyes to things you've never seen, and it's very fascinating.

If he's not telling grossly exaggerated anecdotes of his greatness, he'll bring in board games and cards he “borrowed” from his friends. You've never played with them before as your parents deemed them unrefined. It fills him with pride to see you enjoying yourself so much, especially when he's teaching you how to play.

You don't go out very often, so he always brings back little trinkets and souvenirs. When you found out he stole them all, you would hit him on the head and tell him off. “Where did you get these from? Stealing and giving these to the princess--do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, you would pinch his cheek until he tears up and admits his wrongs. “I-I thought you would like them, okay? I wanted to give them to you as a present...” The next day, you would accompany him to the shops he robbed and pay the owners back.

He gets upset and embarrassed when he realizes those gifts aren't gifts at all. Not when you paid for them yourself! One of the ways he shows affection is through giving gifts, but that unfortunately clashes with not having money. So he's eager to make something out of himself, even if he has to work as a bottom feeder and face unfair treatment for what he looks like. When you find out, his boss gets one hell of a time dealing with you. After that, he uses whatever small amount he earned to buy something for you.

As he grows out of his old habits, he becomes more honest. In fact, he's so determined to prove himself that he shows up one day with a homemade board game scribbled out on a spare piece of parchment. He's nervous and twiddling his fingers, and that's when you know you have to help him get back onto his feet. He's so touched by your kindness that he shows you a secret he's been hiding forever--he can do magic. It's one of his skills that let him become so good at stealing in the past.

After some practice to touch up his abilities, you try convincing your parents to let him work in the palace as an all-rounder. With the magic dancing in his fingertips, there's nothing he can't do. He has a green thumb, good reflexes, and the horses in the stables listen to him better than the caretaker! He can't forget that you encouraged him to let go of his doubts and previous identity as a petty thief. There's nobody in the world he looks up to more.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, he's invited to a ball to celebrate. Once again, he finds himself anxious to see you in your dress, especially when he's quite glammed up himself with his suit and hair slicked back. While you teach him how to dance, he tells you he looks ridiculous. But you think otherwise and make it explicit. That's when Gilbert realizes he's completely smitten with you. He embarks on another journey to improve himself until he thinks he deserves you.

South Italy - The plebeian pâtissier and renegade royal

War has ravaged the kingdom and eaten into the state's reserves, leaving inflation rates at an all-time high. The suffering middle and working-class take it up to their rulers in a coup d'état, killing the king and queen. And now, they're searching for the princess amidst the chaos of an ungoverned dominion. Romano couldn't be more indifferent to such a cause, only ever caring about putting food on the table. He works day and night helping out his family's bakery, making what he can to get by. However, he's forced to take a side when he finds a girl on his doorstep on the verge of starvation.

Unable to turn away someone in need, he nurses you back to health. However, he does so with spite, wondering to himself why he has to give what little he has left to a princess. When you feel better after a few days, he's eager to send you off but changes his mind as you leave. Romano can't bear to let you face certain death, or worse, knowing how bitter the townspeople are about the unpopular war. So he welcomes you back with a sharp sigh with his head turned away. “Alright, alright, you can stay. Now stop making that pathetic face, you spoilt principessa--it's depressing.”

He relays a few house rules as conditions for keeping you around. You have to help him with chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, everything. Considering you always had someone doing those tasks for you, you're hopeless at it. He'll swat your hand and show you how to do things right with an annoyed scowl. “No, no, no, no, no! You're doing it all wrong. This is how you do it. What do they even teach you in that palace, huh? Books? Maths? Books about maths? Well, they won't keep you alive, you know!”

Because he's so observant and strict, he's a good teacher, and soon, you get the hang of everything. Before, he had to open his mouth to correct you every few seconds, but now, he can just watch you do his work with his arms crossed. It's a little demeaning to have someone watch your every move, but inside, he's relieved you're finally fitting in and not a complete waste of his time and resources. In reality, he never wanted to send you off and hoped he could just handle an extra mouth to feed. Not that he'll ever tell you.

When you're out and about, he makes you wear a cloak to hide your identity. When he's forced to interact with people, he'll hold you close and play everything off without arousing suspicion. Even if your hood falls off, he won't react--he's screaming inside in panic, but he's a great actor when he needs to be. You're totally not the princess, just a crazy similar doppelganger. The cloak is there so that people don't make a fuss. When they leave, he'll turn to you and scream how much of an idiot you are. But really, he was just worried to death--and you have a feeling he was. So you hug it out and leave him cussing with a red face.

As you two grow closer, his cousin Antonio notices how much he cares about you despite his efforts to hide it. It's a problem. He approaches him and warns that if people found out he was hiding the princess, he would get killed with her. Romano heats up and screams, telling him that he already knew what he got into the second he let you into his home. When he's asked why he's still keeping you around, he responds with, “It's not fair that her parents fucked up, and she has to face the consequences. Just like how I never wanted to run this stupid bakery--I wanted to be a painter, not burn my hands in the kitchen all day!”

Unbeknownst to him, you overhear the conversation. The next morning, he discovers that you're gone and loses his head. While he's screaming and crying, he's swarmed with the possibilities of what happened to you. He's a bit of an overthinker, but his paranoia is deserved--were you taken away in the middle of the night? Are you even still alive? He spirals down a path of self-loathing until he confronts how much he misses you, then his regret of never being frank with his feelings. Romano didn't understand what he had until he lost it. To say this was a wake-up call--to be more honest with himself--would be an understatement.

A week later, you return unscathed. Turns out, you left to stay with the owner of a paint shop owner your family always supported and bought from. You present him with a gift of some high-end oil paints, brushes, and canvases. When he sets them all down, he'll pull you into a tight hug, and once again, tell you how stupid you are. While he has you in his coils, you smile to yourself as you pat his hair, happy that you also got something in return. Some transparency. “I just thought I'd give you something... For all the trouble.” You'd say, and he'd shush you with a few hard kisses. “You were never a trouble. I wanted you to stay, so I'm more to blame than you.”

As the political situation of the country calms down, so do the anxieties of angry neighbors pounding on his door. You return to his home much to his content. Now that you're just as good as him at icing cakes, you spend more time running the bakery. This gives him some time to paint, and he can't be happier. Once you both get settled, he discovers another hobby on top of making art. Making coffee! The bakery evolves into a café lavishly decorated with his paintings, and it becomes the most popular establishment in town. You both realize how overrated it is to want to be anything more--you never bring up your title ever again.

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Sakusa Kiyoomi

Timeskip/Manga Spoilers

Warnings: mentions of phobia and panic attacks, barely hinted NSFW

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

Big thanks to the amazing Tay from Haikyuu Headquarters @deathcab4daddy​ who beta read for me, and told me to tag @dymphnasprose​ in this!

He Takes the Hardest Chores

             You and Sakusa stared in muted horror at the mess that had once been your immaculate kitchen. The whole thing had started that morning when you’d noticed water leaking from under your sink as you were getting ready to go to work. Sakusa had already left for practice, so you’d been forced to stay behind and call into work late as you tried to get ahold of your apartment management and maintenance people.

You’d managed to get a large bucket under it, and had been assured by management that it would be taken care of. Thus, you’d left for work, though not before leaving a message for your germophobic boyfriend who would definitely need to know, that not only had a pipe under the sink leaked, but that you’d had to let someone into the apartment so they could fix it.

             Naturally he hated whenever anyone he didn’t know intruded on his space, it made him incredibly antsy and anxious, which in turn made him act incredibly grumpy, not that you could blame him. You understood his fear was just that, a fear, and you did your best to understand and accommodate, the same way he did his best to never lash out at you and work through his fear.

             Thus, you’d known without having to say that you’d probably have to do a deep clean of your apartment when you got home from work and he got home from practice, in order for him to feel safe again. You were more than prepared for it, and had even stopped at the store to pick up a couple refills for cleaning supplies you thought you might’ve been running low on in his favorite brands.

             The small detour had meant you arrived home at the same time he did, and though he didn’t look happy at all, he had brightened a bit and even given you a masked kiss to the cheek in greeting when he saw you carrying your supplies. However, you were fairly sure that little bit of good mood had plummeted the minute the two of you had laid eyes on the kitchen.

             Management had called you while you were at work to assure you everything was fixed, but had warned you that it wasn’t their job to clean up the mess. You’d acknowledged that, it was actually written into your contract with the apartment complex and had been one of the terms your boyfriend had been incredibly insistent about as he wanted absolutely no one in your apartment cleaning without permission.

             However, you couldn’t help the swell of indignation in your chest as you stared at the brackish puddles of water, and clear muddy shoe prints all over the nice hardwood, along with the standing buckets of water, your nice kitchen rugs clearly left to soak in the disgusting mire on your floor. Yes, you’d agreed to do the clean-up, but at the very least they could’ve told you how bad it was, and whoever the repair person had been, could’ve cleaned up after themselves, which they obviously hadn’t if the black handprints on your sink and some of your cupboards meant anything. That wasn’t even touching on the smell, which wreaked of rotten things.

             If you’d known about this you would’ve left work early to come home to try to clean things up, that or you never would’ve left in the first place in order to keep an eye on things. As it was, it was very clear to you that several things were ruined and would have to be thrown out, and the whole place aired out.

             A quick glance at your boyfriend showed that he’d gone very white behind his mask, his eyes fixated on the mess, his breathing a little shallow, in a way that made you worry he was about to start hyperventilating.

             “Kiyoomi?” you prompted gently, wondering if you needed to gently guide him away, get him out of the apartment before the whole thing got to be too much and he had a panic attack.

             His dark eyes immediately snapped over to you, and he let out a long slow breath, clearly trying to gather himself. You remained quiet, and let him do what he needed to do, knowing better than to touch him in moments like these, as that only made it worse, but also keeping your eyes on his, as he’d told you before that doing that helped keep him grounded.

             “Do you need to leave Kiyoomi?” you asked him gently, “You can step out for an hour, go pick up dinner or something and I can get started? It will be better when you get back I promise.”

             “No,” he snapped immediately, the tone harsh and vicious enough to make you flinch, your eyes widening a bit in surprise.

             “You go get dinner, and I’ll clean this… this… catastrophe,” he ordered a clear grimace of distaste on his face despite the mask he was still wearing, his dark eyes a little wild, clearly unsettled.

             “That’s alright Kiyoomi,” you assured him, still gentle, “I don’t mind.”

             “I mind,” he informed you, taking several deep breaths and clearly trying to keep himself calm, “I don’t want you to get dirty. You shouldn’t have to touch this disgusting filth.”

             Your heart immediately softened despite the clear disgust in his voice. Most people didn’t realize, but Sakusa was actually fairly protective of the people he cared for. It apparently even extended far enough to the point where despite how afraid and disgusted he was he would rather deal with it himself, rather than have you, who he saw as infinitely precious, deal with it.

             “You shouldn’t have to deal with it either, Kiyoomi,” you told him, unable to keep the affection from your tone for your boyfriend, who was sweet in his own way, “We’ll do it together alright? And after that we can throw our clothes in the laundry and take a nice clean shower.”

             He looked at you, intently for several seconds, clearly wanting to protest, but in the end his shoulders slumped, clearly both relieved and resigned, and the two of you set to work. However, you quickly noticed that despite working together it was very clear he was taking the hardest, grossest parts of your task.

             You only tried to protest once, but he refused to listen, giving you a very pointed look that spoke volumes about how very much he didn’t want you to have to touch what he was doing before going back to work. It took the two of you a good couple hours to get everything cleaned to the level that he found acceptable, and by the end both of you were tired, hungry and dirty.

             However, as you stepped into the shower, you couldn’t bring yourself to complain or feel unhappy about it, not when he’d clearly gone out of his way to make things easier for you, when he’d tried so very hard to protect you despite his own fears. Instead you felt warm, and incredibly loved, and resolved to use this time before dinner to ensure he felt the same.

 He Fusses Over You

             “Here,” your boyfriend told you, handing you a small pack of hand sanitizer, clearly never opened, travel sized and ready to go.

             “Thanks, Kiyoomi,” you told him with a small amused smile, tucking it into your purse, along with the three other small bottles he’d handed you within the last couple hours.

             “Don’t forget you have to use it before and after security,” he told you, his dark brows furrowed with worry, a small crease appearing between the two moles on his forehead as he watched you with concerned dark eyes.

             “I will,” you assured him, reaching out carefully, and touching your gloved hands to his. He immediately accepted the touch, twining your fingers together, and squeezing, clearly incredibly anxious.

             You knew he absolutely hated when you had to travel, and it was even worse when you had to travel without him. Usually you’d be going with him and the team, but this time work meant you had to leave before he could, the tournament not finished until tomorrow, which meant going on your own. You honestly thought sometimes that he might even hate the fact that you had to travel even more than the fact that he had to travel, especially if you had to take shared transit.

             Planes in particular were something he hated with a passion, referring to them as ‘flying petri dishes’ and ‘cesspits of bacteria and disease’ and you on a plane was one of his worst nightmares for that exact reason. It meant he went out of his way to ensure you had everything you might need to keep yourself safe, and always bought you two first class tickets even when he wasn’t travelling with you, so you could have your row of seats all to yourself without fear of contamination.

             “You have your extra masks?” he fretted quietly, “And your wipes?”

             “I do,” you assured him tenderly, hoping to ease his fears even as your heart melted at how very much he cared and wanted to keep you safe, “And I have extra pairs of gloves, and tissues too.”

             “I’ll make sure I decontaminate right away when I get home, and I’ll call you to let you know I’ve gotten there safe alright?” you assured him as the attendant called for boarding.

             “Okay,” he told you, releasing a breath that was a bit shaky, as he searched your eyes, “Be safe okay?”

             “I will,” you assured him tenderly, a little surprised but not protesting as he gently pressed his forehead to yours, an affectionate gesture the two of you had developed in place of kissing or hugs since he almost always wore a mask in public and didn’t feel comfortable with too much pda.

             “I love you,” you told him quietly, “Have a good last game, and I’ll be waiting when you come home.”

             “I love you too,” he answered just as quietly, reluctantly letting go of your hands and pulling back, letting you join the queue of people lining up to board.

             You gave him one last smile over your shoulder before boarding the plane, taking your seat at the very front and as far from others as you could get. Sitting down with your purse in your lap, you dug through hoping to find your phone to let him know you were seated. You sent him one last I love you text, unable to keep the smile off your lips as you realized he’d somehow managed to sneak one more bottle of hand sanitizer into your purse when you weren’t looking, and unable to feel anything but completely and utterly loved.

 He Touches You

             You’d known from the beginning that Sakusa was a complete and utter germaphobe, and that a relationship with him wasn’t going to be easy, especially since the thought of touching people skin on skin was something that truly frightened him. A lot of people made jokes about his fear, which always made you frown in disapproval, mostly because while it may seem ridiculous and stupid to them, it was very real to him.

             Most people held hands easily after their first date, might even expect to be kissed or hugged, an arm around the waist or shoulders, a gentle hand on their face or arm. That wasn’t you, and with Sakusa you were well aware it would never be you.

             It took over a month for Sakusa to feel comfortable holding your hand, and that was only if you were both wearing gloves, and only if you let him know ahead of time that you’d like to do so. Touching him in any way required forethought and clear consent in order to ensure his comfort, and to keep him from panicking.

             It was hard, incredibly so, and you inevitably messed up a couple of times, but he always forgave you even when your touch was enough to make him panic or tremble. The same way you always forgave him for hastily dashing to the nearest sink to wash himself clean or pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer to clean himself off.

             However, it was worth it, he was worth it, because you knew how very hard he was working on it, that he didn’t actually think you as a person were disgusting, just the germs you might accidentally carry on your skin, and that he really did want to touch you. He loved you and desperately wanted to give you the things he knew you wanted, so he worked on it, day by day and bit by bit he fought his fears for you.

             The day he’d managed to reach for your hand first, with no glove in sight, the skin of his palm against yours and his fingers carefully twining into your grip, you’d nearly cried. You knew how much he’d worked for it, and how much he must love you to manage it, and in turn the gesture had felt incredibly intimate.

             Yes, most normal couples would brush it off as something silly, or meaningless, but to the two of you, it meant everything. You knew there would be people who would scoff at your relationship, which moved slower than a snail’s pace, but for the two of you, every step forward was a battle won, every brush of skin on skin without flinching was a triumph and a blatant display of how very much Sakusa loved you.

             And you treasured each and every moment of it. After all, who else could say that their boyfriend battled their worst fears just to be with them? Who else had a boyfriend who loved them so much they were willing to do whatever it took to give them what they wanted?

             What you had with Sakusa was incredibly intimate and precious, and you didn’t care what anyone else said. It wasn’t your fault they took each and every touch for granted, but looking into his dark eyes, as he gently traced your lips with a bare elegant finger an expression of wonder and deep affection on his face, you promised yourself that you never would.

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Pairing: Wren Blackwell x Jonah Clemence

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @starry-starry-night24​ @youreawizardharr​  (please let me know if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Day 4 of the 12 Days of OCmas! Are Wren and Jonah as Star Crossed and Wren believes?

The tinkling of the bell above the door signaled their arrival. Too early for incoming influx of captains and merchants with documents to be reviewed and approved. Another two hours should have been free to work on overhauling the filing system that her boss had struggled to keep in order. She didn’t need to rush after hearing her son exclaim the visitor’s names.

“Uncle Fenrir! Uncle Ray!” The ten-year old’s voice echoed through the small building laced with surprise and joy. Abandoning his schoolwork for a chance to spend time with his two uncles. Amber eyes sparkled up at the two. Rarely did he get a visit from his family.

Fenrir beamed a grin at him, accepting the welcoming hug. “Reece, ya got taller!” He stopped by any time he came down to the ports, pitching in to help if Wren needed it.

Which meant today must be business. Never did Ray come by her work without warning. Placing down the files in their proper piles, Wren maneuvered through the chaos to emerge from the office. “Reece, you can go out for a break.” She didn’t want him to hear any military discussions, lest he want to join.

“Come on, I’ll buy ya a treat if it’s alright with your mom,” Fenrir offered to the eager boy, glancing to her for the okay.

It was like looking at two needy puppies. “That’s fine.” As Reece raced out the front door, Wren called to the ace with a serious tone. “No guns this time. I’ll kick your ass if you even think about it.”

She received a salute paired with wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“This time?” Ray questioned, emerald eyes moving from the vacant doorway to his sister.

“Reece is becoming increasingly interested in weapons ever since he was allowed to shoot Fenrir’s gun,” Wren replied with irritation. She’d agreed to teaching her son a little hand-to-hand combat for self-defense. At no point, had permission been given for him to wield a weapon.

Ray chuckled at her frown. “I count myself lucky that Fenrir came away in one piece.” His memories of a protective older sister when they were but children resurfaced with nostalgia. Though she came across as calm and collected, she possessed incredible fighting skill that could rival some of his chosen thirteen. 

The army would gain much if Wren agreed to join, but he knew that she would never, not with her son to protect.

The two moved into the messy office for privacy. Wren cleared a spot on the desk to sit while Ray claimed the only empty armchair. “What are you looking for?”

“Shipping manifests that could pass initial inspection but might be importing contraband.”

Wren cast a glance over the organized mess. “I’ll look into it. Though, it will undoubtedly take me a few hours. What is it that’s being smuggled in?” If she had a frame of reference, then it would make the search much easier.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you that.” The investigation now a joint one. He’d have to explain to the Reds why he involved a civilian in a sensitive, top secret mission.

“If I know what I’m looking for, the box size and contents will be much simpler to find.”

Ray shifted to cross his legs, mulling over his options. Trust wasn’t the issue. He knew Wren would be discrete and quick. But involving her meant bringing up her name at the meeting with Red Army late tonight. Was it better to have some information than come up empty with those smug bastards? 

“Stop worrying. I want to help, so let me.”

He sighed. “Tainted magic crystals. They’re small enough to go undetected but a single one can cause massive damage. If the calculations are even slightly correct, the influx that has been reported could destroy half of Cradle. Wren, you don’t have to agree to this. I understand if you want me to walk away.”

A dire situation. Time sensitive.

Wren could see why he’d been hesitant to tell her. Part of her, the mother part, wanted to tell him no. Becoming involved opened her and Reece up to being targets. Her common sense wanted her to walk away.

But Ray would only come to her with something so dangerous if it weren’t his last option.

“I’ll do what I can.” 

The King of Spades relaxed at her agreement. “Thanks, sis. I’ll assign a soldier to keep watch here and at your home. Just as a precaution.” His gaze flickered to the large clock sitting on the wall. They’d made a detour here.

“Go on. I know how busy you are. I’ll come by with whatever I find,” Wren said with a wave of her hand. They hardly saw each other but on a few of his off days.

After the two officers left, Wren gathered all the shipping manifests that were within the last few months to pour over at home. She only took a break to cook a light meal and eat with her son before it was back to examining the documents. 

Night had settled in by the time she discovered anything significant. There were a handful of suspect items that had been flagged, but only one stood out. Regardless of her gut feeling, Wren took all of the evidence and would allow them to mark off the ones that were unneeded.

“Reece, I’m going to take some things to Ray. I’ll be back later-”

“I wanna come!” He cut her off, abandoning his schoolwork to scramble over the back of the couch. Amber eyes as big as a puppy, begging to for permission.

Wren reached out and brushed her hand through his red hair. Normally, it would be alright, but she wanted him nowhere near this case. “Not this time. I won’t be gone long. Stay here, okay?”

“Aww, but mom!” Reece protested with a frown.

“Please don’t fight me on this, Reece.” She pressed a kiss to his head as she gave him a tight hug. To admit it would be too hard, but there were more reasons than simply his safety from outside threats that she worried about.

                                                 << << <<

Soldiers at the gate had redirected her to Central Quarter. The two armies had convened, and she’d have to find Ray there. The neutral zone hadn’t changed much. Wren only came when she absolutely needed to. She’d chosen to live in the port town of Black Territory, far away from anyone in Red Territory.

The meeting had come to a close by the time she arrived. She’d been greeted by the 10 of Spades on his way out with a tip of his hat. Wren stayed in the foyer of the Civic Center, finding a nice pillar to hide behind. The Jacks exited next and following them the Queens.

Their boots were all that echoed throughout the large room. Their dislike for each other well known. As one came to a stop, so did the other. “Who’s there? The Civic Center is closed. You’re trespassing.”

Ten years.

It had been ten years since she’d heard that voice.

And it still caused her heart to throb painfully inside her chest.

His steps grew closer.

If she continued to hide, it would reflect poorly. Wren moved from her spot behind the pillar. With stiff movements, she passed Jonah without a word, instead moving to Sirius. “I brought what the King of Spades asked for. I was only waiting for him to come down.”

“He mentioned that. I’ll deliver them for you.” Sirius took the compiled documents and headed back for the stairs. He cast a worried glance back over his shoulder, but the woman was already heading for the door.

Don’t look back. Keep walking.

Her palm pressed against the door, but cool fingers wrapped around her other wrist. Wren tensed at his touch, wanting to pull away but found herself unable to.

“I’m owed an explanation.”

He was right.

“You drop out of school and disappear for ten years.”

Her reason one that he wouldn’t understand.

“Wren! Look at me!” A gentle, but firm command.

Emerald green met beautiful molten amber.

Wren swallowed down the lump in her throat. It hurt more than she’d imagined it would. Strong emotions that she’d bottled up and shoved deep into her heart, rattled in their cage, threatening to burst out. If they did, she feared she’d lose all control. “We were dumb kids, who didn’t understand that it would never work.”

Not even she believed the words that passed her lips.

“How could you possibly know that?” He wore so many emotions. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She’d vanished. The day prior they were sneaking off during a break to be alone, and the next, gone. No explanation. No note. “I searched for you. I went into Black Territory against my families wishes-”

His family the catalyst of her disappearance.

But she couldn’t reveal that.

“Jonah, we’re different people now. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and if we’re being completely honest, the Queen of Hearts could never be with the King of Spades older sister. One thing or another always got in our way.” Whether it be his family or the Red Territory fan girls who hounded her for even speaking to him back in school. His duties joining the army would have broken them apart, and once Ray became the King, that would have done them in as well. “It’s for the best.”

He was still the Jonah she’d fallen in love with. His brows creased, not willing to accept that he couldn’t have everything that he wanted. “Did you think me not enough to protect you?”

It had little to do with protection. Wren tugged her hand free, shaking her head. “You would never go against your family.” She turned and shoved the door open to escape into the chilled night air. Pain blossomed across her chest. Her legs threatened to give out.

Return to Black Territory and try to forget.

As if it worked the last ten years.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He couldn’t simply give in. None of his questions had been answered. Jonah followed; his voice drenched in confusion. “This isn’t about my parents. You left me, Wren! Without so much as a word. I deserve to know why!”

She clenched her fists and whirled around to face him. “It’s always been about them, Jonah! Do you have any idea how many times your mother found a way to make my life miserable? She’s the one who had me pulled from your class, turned my teachers against me, and she tried to pay me off when--” Wren caught herself before she blurted out the one thing she refused to speak of. Emerald irises fell away from the shock on his features.

Their raised voices had drawn the attention of the Jacks loitering by the fountain and with them, someone who was meant to be at home.

“Pay you off for what?” Jonah couldn’t think of a single thing that would require an exchange of money.

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t take the money, but I did leave. It’s over, Jonah. I think it’s better if we just pretend we’re strangers.”

“No. I refuse to leave things this way-”

A small hand slipped into hers. Reece wore a concerned expression. He’d never seen her so upset. “Mom?” He’d disregarded her wishes, following her all the way to Central Quarter, where he’d never been before.

Jonah glanced between the two. “Mom? You have a son?” It was dark but the moonlight illuminated the boy well enough.

Matching amber eyes met for the first time.

The missing piece walked right into the puzzle.

[libermachinae]

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part I: Listen - Chapter 1: A Commotion, Eager and Anxious (Previous)

Also available on AO3! Summary:  Arcee arrives on the Lost Light just as someone else is getting ready to leave. Chapter Word Count: 3010

---

“Hey, you’ve reached Captain Rodimus’ personal hailing frequency. If you’re calling to complain again about mandatory hab sweeps, please refer to recent events involving briefcases and the hereafter outlawed opening of. If you have news involving foolish, ridiculous, or nonsensical obstacles in our quest, input 1 to be transferred directly to Megatron’s personal comm line. If you have a complaint regarding sign placement, grammatically incorrect maintenance manuals, or that weird temperature difference between floors 7 and 8, input 2 for Ultra Magnus. If you’re lonely and want someone to talk to, input 3 for automatic directions to Swerve’s. Input 4 to be connected with me, provided I’m—”

Beep.

“Rodimus?”

“Blaster! Great timing, we just got back from Fortuna. Don’t talk too long, though, Magnus just handed me my prep for the hearing and these datapads are engraved with his personal insignia.”

“Sure, Rodimus. I’ve got incoming transmission from an unknown caller, not laying down any codes I’m familiar with. Tried pressing for details, but all they’re letting slip is they want to talk to you. Want me to patch them through?”

“Hm. On the one hand, unknown caller with mysterious intentions almost always means trouble, right?”

“We’ve ended up in some axel grease for it in the past, yeah.”

“And the reason we set down on Scarvix was to avoid creating more problems while we deal with the fallout from the last batch.”

“I thought it was to give the crew a day off?”

“And that’s why you’re our morale guy. Ratchet would probably tell me to ignore it, right?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t think he would?”

“Not really sure how the CMO’s opinion is relevant.”

Because Ratchet’s vote was the only one he knew.

“Yeah, never mind,” Rodimus said with a shrug, almost losing his balance in the process. “Ultra Magnus would say the same thing, anyway, and he’s counting on me to get to the hearing on time. He cares so much , he ‘summarized’ Brainstorm’s alleged code infringements himself.” He shifted the armload of datapads. The topmost pad was hanging off the edge, preparing for freefall, but trying to tilt it back to safety risked upsetting the rest of the pile.

“Nice of him,” Blaster said.

“Yep, super nice. He went to so much trouble. Really dug into the details, researched historical precedents, looked at the case from every angle. He probably buried his essay on the origins of Decepticon as an adjective somewhere in here.” The datapad tilted and dropped. Rodimus shifted his weight to one leg and kicked with the other, bouncing the pad off his knee and catching it with his teeth. “You know ‘at? Hure, ‘ut the comm hrough. ‘robably just a co’arketer, anyay.”

“Yes, sir.”

The familiar click and beat of a line being transferred. Rodimus deposited the datapad on top of his stack and started walking again, forgoing his office in favor of a detour to the middle decks. The view there was more impressive, the angle revealing the organic landscape that stretched between the Lost Light and Fortuna, a popular interstellar rest stop with enough mechanical business to make it worth the daytrip. Chomskians were their patrons of choice, but a hand over the faction insignia and most folks would let it slide. Walking the length of the Lost Light revealed a subtly changing view as the gleam of the mechanoid hub altered the silhouette of the city, and Rodimus busied himself tracking the shuttles, jets, and personal aircraft traveling in and out, letting it distract him until his comm came back.

“Am I speaking to Captain Rodimus?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Cybertronian, definitely, but otherwise unknown.

Cool .

“Yep, captain of the Lost Light and quester for the Knights of Cybertron,” he said. “What’s up?”

“This is Autobot Arcee, requesting permission to dock in the Lost Light’s shuttle bay.”

“Arcee?” Rodimus went through the list of all the Autobots he knew, ignoring the space where Arcee’s origin should have been. Some folks, MTOs especially, didn’t like to broadcast that information, and it wasn’t strictly necessary for a personal database search. Regardless, “Sorry, Arcee, I’m not remembering you. Who did you serve under?”

“New recruit. Was working with Prowl for a bit, now Optimus Prime. We’ve met.”

He had to hold himself back from shutting down the call. The datapads wobbled and he quickly righted himself.

“We have?” People who worked for Prowl were strategic about when they released that information. If she really was a new recruit, it was possible no one had explained to her yet that, ultimately, everything led back to him. It was the only justification he could find for staying on the line and not telling Ultra Magnus to initiate an immediate sweep for unauthorized listening devices.

“Well, no. But I crashed a shuttle for you. Into Galvatron.”

“You did?” And just like that he had forgotten Prowl entirely.

“I did. Me and a few others. It didn’t do much, but you and Optimus managed to take care of Vector Sigma anyway, so, bygones.”

Why couldn’t he remember this? It sounded awesome .

“Totally,” Rodimus said, feeling a swell of pride as he remembered the moment Optimus had set aside his doubts and trusted Rodimus’ word on the Matrix. Up until that point, his chosen name had felt ill-fitting, like the myriad of function tests that preceded a new harvest’s official classification. Or, in his darker moments, like the Primes of old, who claimed the Matrix’s blessing despite no legitimate connection to it. Optimus had put his faith in Rodimus, though, in his connection to the Matrix, and that faith had been rewarded , not punished . For once, his destiny hadn’t been priced in spilled energon.

Not that they hadn’t seen any.

“So you decided to get the brand and make it permanent?” he asked, pulling himself back to the present.

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, come aboard. ‘The more the merrier,’ as Megatron would never say. When do you estimate your arrival?”

“I’ve just breached atmosphere, should be there in an hour.”

“Perfect. I’ll send instructions along to open the shuttle bay doors and will be there to meet you.” He passed the news to Megatron and Ultra Magnus and was unsurprised when only the latter acknowledged the alert, as well as a bunch of forms that seemed incredibly tedious and not worth the bandwidth. Maybe once the hearing was over, he could sit down with his co-captain and remind him of the responsibilities he had agreed to as part of his deal. That would be a proper, leader-like thing to do.

Or he could let Megatron continue to wallow in whatever new misery he had concocted for himself. It certainly made his shifts easier.

He and Arcee exchanged farewells and his comm powered down, leaving Rodimus to strategize. Arcee’s arrival meant he did not have enough time to get back to his office, read through all of Magnus’ files, and make it to the shuttle bay, especially with all the effort it would take to even work himself up to unlocking the datapads. Better to make a good impression on their new guest and bump out the least pressing task. He could do his reading once Arcee was settled.

Walking around weighed down by the burden of knowledge was a drag, though, so he stuck to the part of the plan that involved getting rid of the datapads. He spent the remaining walk to his office (longer now after he had inadvertently walked in the opposite direction while on the comm) thinking about what he could do with the surprise free time. Maybe take a quick lap around the lower decks or make his first official visit to “Visages”. Something fun, carefree, and just barely skirting regulations; something normal , to start the work of convincing everyone, again, that things were going to be fine.

~*~

Ratchet was not stalling.

There was a chance he was overpreparing, but better that than the opposite. The galaxy was a big place, and if he was even slightly accurate in his guess of how far Drift would wander in his search for redemption, he would be touching corners of it even the war had never brought him to. So, an abundance of fuel was necessary, at least enough to last two bots a month plus about half that for the journey outward. Then medical supplies: wiremesh bandages, nanite gel, intravenous lines, sparkstarters, sorted boxes of nuts and screws, antiviral uploads, rust repellant, strut stabilizers, soldering wires… The shuttle was turning out better equipped than some of the mobile surgeries he had worked from during the war; even some hospitals had been dangerously low on materials he now found in abundance. For the first time, he had the resources to make sure nothing and no one would be lost to shortage, and he intended to take advantage of that new luxury.

Following that, the next logical step had been to make the rest of the shuttle comfortable as well. Two Morphy berths with recharge docks. A media library of music and movies to pass the time (the former Cyclonus’ recommendations, the latter, Swerve’s). A few selections from his private engex stash. A box of data blockers he had buried deep among the medical supplies and would claim were standard for any med kit if interrogated.

He nudged the box of Hex pieces against the wall with his foot. Was it alright there was nowhere to sit beside the naviconsole and the berths? He had though Drift would appreciate the economy of a smaller shuttle, but with the cargo loaded the atmosphere was shifting from cozy to cramped. Would Drift feel claustrophobic, reminded of squatters’ dens and Decepticon outposts? Drift was also a high-energy bot, who would probably itch for a chance to spin his wheels from time to time. Were the fuel reserves large enough to accommodate multiple planet stops?

Ratchet’s knuckle had worked its way between his teeth before he realized what he was doing. Dropping his hand, he forced himself to turn around and exit the small spacecraft. He was committed. Out of anyone on board, Drift had done the most to earn this home. If no one else was going to step up and do the right thing by returning it to him, Ratchet would resign to do it himself.

He heard a commotion, eager and anxious, as he stepped out into the shuttle bay. The hangar doors were opening, sunlight slipping through the growing crack, and several parked crafts were being taxied out of the way. Not wanting to get cut off by wandering shuttles, he hurried to the pedestrian entrance, where most of the voices were coming from: a small crowd, loiterers looking for the new source of intrigue. Whirl and Tailgate were among them, providing running commentary as the unwieldly ships skirted just shy of scraping each other’s paint off, so it was no surprise to find Cyclonus standing further off.

Perfect. Though Ratchet and Cyclonus were not on bad terms, neither had ever tried to expand their relationship past the occasional long-suffering glance. If it had been one of the bots who had his spark twisting every time he bumped into them in the hallways, Ratchet would have worried about giving his plan away, but he doubted Cyclonus cared whether the something-like-guilt was visible.

“Cyclonus,” he greeted.

“Ratchet.” The older of the two offered a polite nod, though his gaze returned to the door.

“What’s going on? Somebody forget something in Fortuna?” Ratchet kept his voice light, curiosity without investment. A change in routine could mean nothing, but by now everyone knew it could also be the start of something weird, dangerous, or a combination of the two. Either way, it would end up among Swerve’s stand-up material.

“New arrival,” Cyclonus said. “Arcee of the Darklands: a tested warrior with a spark that rivaled Galvatron’s.”

Might as well have called herself Foreboding of Doom and saved his declarative archives the search. Ratchet wondered if he should move his departure up.

“Is she here? Did I miss it?”

Rodimus’ panicked shouts preceded his stumble into the hangar. Ratchet greeted him with a pointed look, which he shouldered by simply not noticing it while his gaze darted around the room.

“Not yet, Rodimus,” Hoist announced over the loudspeaker. “We’re just getting the last shuttles cleared for landing.”

“Oh, thank Primus,” Rodimus said, tilting his head back as his fans released a cloud of warm air. “Fantastic.”

“You look like you gunned it to get here,” Ratchet said, waving away the smell of an overheated engine.

“No, that would be speeding, which is definitely against spacetime law,” Rodimus said, straightening to flash Ratchet a deeply unappreciated grin. “I ran. I told Arcee I would be here to meet her, and it would make for a pretty bad impression of the ship if the captain failed to live up to his promise.”

“Don’t you have a hearing to be getting ready for?” Ratchet asked, the question slipping past his censors. Slag. That was not the note he wanted to leave on. The stress of his impending departure was getting to him more than he had realized.

Rodimus shrugged, unaffected.

“Magnus gave me all the materials, just need to read them. Won’t take long.”

That stirred something in Ratchet’s spark.

“Good to know our justice system is under such attentive care.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation that would be better saved for when we are not moments from new introductions,” Cyclonus interjected, his deep bass distracting enough to halt those emotional processes of Ratchet’s that started to loop out of control whenever Rodimus opened his mouth. He set his vocalizer to standby, not trusting it to wait for his command, and wondered whether it would be better to get out sooner. Before his own smart mouth made his worries a reality.

The appearance of the approaching shuttle did not ease his concerns. Starting as a speck above the horizon, all optics were on it as it approached, a little blob of a spacecraft dangling over the city of Fortuna. Big, for a single occupant. Ratchet hoped he was wrong, but he noticed something further odd as it came nearer.

Whirl took care of that loose thread of optimism.

“It’s purple,” he said, with a coy look at Cyclonus, who ignored it with enviable steadiness.

“It’s a Decepticon vessel.” Ratchet had seen enough in his time. After the fall of Tyger Pax, Autobot regulations had outlawed all colors between navy and magenta for ships, and he could think of no other species brazen enough to steer a spacecraft directly into civilian airspace. “Rodimus?”

“Blaster confirmed Arcee’s ident after our call,” Rodimus said. “Bit of a garish choice for a ride, but it’s her.” He had maneuvered himself to the front of the group, standing at the front like he was putting himself on display for an honored guest.

“That is rich, coming from you.”

“Thanks, Ratch,” Rodimus said, casting over his shoulder a wink and a grin before he turned back to face the oncoming ship. Ratchet’s frown deepened and he ignored the way the gesture reminded him of Drift.

He never knew what the bot had seen in Rodimus. Short-sighted, selfish, and with an ego that could have powered the ship if he could have been bothered to contribute that much, Rodimus’ ability to perform feats no one else would attempt meant he was also prone to making mistakes they neither could have imagined. For all the time Ratchet had spent on the Lost Light , he still had no idea the limits of chaos Rodimus was capable of summoning to it, so he let triage and combat protocols idle in the background while they waited.

It was not a nice landing. The thrusters were still burning several hundred feet out, so they all heard the roar of wind buffeting ailerons as the shuttle struggled to slow itself down. It was only by the combined effects of the Lost Light ’s buffeting shield and the shuttle’s reverse engines that they did not suffer a catastrophic collision, and even then, the shuttle bounced as it finally touched down, coming within feet of kissing Huffer’s personal speeder. Ratchet still did not remember to vent as it struggled through taxiing, twice having to reattempt a maneuver as the combined efforts of Hoist, Rodimus, and a group of volunteers guided it to its designated space. Only when the engines finally shut down did Ratchet hear the collective sigh of multiple hydraulics systems releasing their tension.

“Guess Darkland warriors don’t need to know how to drive,” Ratchet muttered. He thought he heard Cyclonus huff, which was enough to get a chuckle out of him.

That was it, though, because in the next moment Rodimus was rushing to the lowering hatch, his spoiler flicking behind him like an insect wing. Ratchet caught a glimpse of a labyrinthine cargo hold before Arcee stepped forward, filling the space, and descended rapidly. He tensed, ready for something else to come charging out from behind her, but besides a look passed between her and Cyclonus nothing immediately hostile revealed itself.

“Welcome to the Lost Light,” Rodimus said, standing aside to let Arcee descend. The hatch raised as soon as she was standing on the Lost Light’s floor, blocking Ratchet’s view again.

“Yes, thank you.” Her tone was clipped, not the melodic veil of sophistication Ratchet had come to associate with Cyclonus, and she scanned the assembled bots with a look of blatant suspicion. Ratchet could relate to that, if nothing else.

He glanced at the purple ship once more while Rodimus led Arcee in the direction of the rec rooms while the rest of the crowd dispersed. Ratchet himself would never believe in anything as a sign or omen, but the sight of the purple plating made old welds ache, and he found his resolve. He would go get a drink. He would attend the hearing. And then, goodbyes or no, he was leaving that night.

[megashadowdragon]

coldhands identity is brave danny flint

Could Coldhands be Brave Danny Flint? It sounds crackpot, and very likely is, but the more I thought about it the more it appealed to me. I've done a quick search, one or two people seem to have floated this before but it's never had much in-depth analysis. This is my first meta, so please be gentle and C&C welcome.

The Gender Agenda To start with, I'll start with the elephant in the room - Danny Flint was a girl, Coldhands is male. Or is he? Gilly, Meera, and Bran all refer to him as male, but they have no idea who he is, so would see Night's Watch clothes and assume. He wears a scarf over his face, and while they can see his eyes and that his face is pale, it took Bran's gang a decent amount of time to work out he was a walking corpse, so I'm not sure I trust them to figure out niceties like gender. Leaf's "They killed him long ago" is more of a problem - she's a colleague, she would probably know. My best defence is that maybe Children of the Forest don't do gender in the same way as humans? This feels like a reach, but we have had another magical species with sexual fluidity leading to trouble with pronouns in the series. Otherwise, Leaf tends to hang out in the cave, Coldhands can't get in, maybe they're just not that close. Finally, the main person to ask - Coldhands his or her self. The only other post I could see on reddit about this theory had someone respond with the quote "Once the heart has ceased to beat, a man's blood runs down into his extremities, where it thickens and congeals. His hands and feet swell up and turn as black as pudding. The rest of him becomes as white as milk", but I'd point out this is in third person and a generalization - "a man", not "me, Coldhands, the man".

Okay, now I've convinced everyone my theory is terrible, let's get into the meat of it.

Hands cold as stone This was what got me into this rabbit hole in the first place - House Flint's sigil is "A grey stone hand upon a white inverted pall on paly black and grey". A stone hand would be pretty cold, right? In point of fact, when we first met Coldhands, the final line of the chapter describes "fingers hard as stone." On top of that, the white and black background seems to fit the Night's Watch blacks, pale face, black hands, white snow, etc.

Who the hell else could it be? This has always been the weird thing about Coldhands for me. Honestly, there's a very good chance this is a non mystery mystery, he's a zombie Night's watch ranger riding an elk, do we really need a secret identity? However, "who is Coldhands?" is one of the most commonly asked questions in the fandom, so let's assume it's getting an answer. We know: a) night's watch member b) killed a long time ago, as reckoned by a 200 year old, c) not Benjen. There are essentially 3 historical periods where we know any specifics about the Night's Watch: 1) the long night/age of heroes, 2) Targaryen era, 3) recent history. If we work through these backwards, we can pretty much rule out the recent era for not meeting the criteria of "killed a long time ago". The Targaryen era didn't have much Night's Watch drama, a few kings sent to the wall at Aegon's conquest, Raymun Redbeard's invasion is wall related but the whole point of that story is that the Night's Watch failed to really get involved... the only strong contender from this period is a mysterious magical Targaryen bastard who went to the wall and went missing... but he's the other mysterious good zombie wandering around up north. The long night has a lot of Night's Watch focus, but it was 10,000 years ago. Allowing for this being in-universe exaggeration, it's still ~2,000 years ago, and if Coldhands were that old, I'm not sure he'd be in elk-riding mutineer-killing form, or at least not look passably human to Bran and co. This rules out specific timeline characters, which leaves more folkloric characters like Danny Flint, who isn't associated to any one point in time. There's a song, and she's treated as a well-known tale, which implies a fairly long time, but overall could be whenever. This works for any of the folkloric Night's Watch characters, but the Rat King is already otherwise occupied with a different cannibalistic pseudo immortality, leaving Mad Axe, who does have the massacring fellow brothers down pat, but doesn't feel thematically right to me. This section really grew in the writing, but TL;DR - assuming Coldhands is someone we've heard of before, no specific historical figures seem to match up chronologically, leaving figures from folk tales and songs, which there are only so many of.

Mutineer Massacre For a character we've all obsessed over so much, it's easy to forget how little we've seen of Coldhands. His role in the story has effectively been "transport Sam and Gilly to the wall, transport Bran and co to Bloodraven, massacre the Night's Watch mutineers". Hold up, one of those things is not like the others. During his quest to get Bran to Bloodraven, to awake the messiah and save the world, Coldhands takes a break and makes a detour to kill the Night's Watch Mutineers from Crasters. This is explicitly noted to be something they slow down for, when time is critical. Admittedly, it secures the party some delicious Long Pork when supplies are low, but even in aDwD it seems like there are other ways to get meat than to hunt humans, besides which he kills not one but five mutineers. He claims it is because the mutineers are following them, but Meera points out they've been circling for days - it seems Coldhands deliberately sought the mutineers out. The brutality of the kills also suggests more than utilitarian pragmatism - there are entrails slung through branches and severed heads! All of this to say, Coldhands is deliberately shown as both a member of the Night's Watch, and willing/going out of his way to punish Night's Watch brothers who break their vows and harm their fellow brothers, something Danny Flint might take personally. Basically, it's a classic exploitation movie with an elk-riding zombie as the wronged woman hunting down wrongdoers. Someone call Tarantino to direct this.

A True Night's Watch One of the big themes GRRM loves is the idea that outsiders to an institution can be the truest embodiment of that institution - Dunk and Brienne are the truest Knights, Davos is the truest lord, the Manderlys are the most loyal northerners. Coldhands already seems to tie into this - the Night's Watch are tireless defenders from the Others and their Wights, so ironically the staunchest ranger is undead as well. It would only emphasise this theme if this ultimate Night's Watch ranger was someone who was barred from entry, had to sneak in, and was murdered by their brothers for not belonging. There also seems to be a thematic tie in that Danny Flint had to essentially infiltrate the Night's Watch and keep her cover in hostile terrain, much like Coldhands in the Others controlled north.

Bonding over being murdered by your brothers Coldhands has so far been very much one of Bran's cast, but it's worth noting characters can switch storylines, and we have someone else in the North who can soon relate to being a back-from-the-dead Night's Watchman fighting the Others - I'm hardly the first to note the Coldhands/Jon parallels, but Coldhands being another character who was murdered by the Night's Watch due to their conservatism and hatred of outsiders would add another layer.

Miscellany A couple of quotes I found while researching for this: “Did Mance ever sing of Brave Danny Flint?” “Not as I recall. Who was he?” (ADWD Jon XII) - Tormund and Jon talking, Tormund mistaking Danny Flint for a man, this feels like one of those throw-away lines GRRM likes to include to make a little double meaning once the truth is out, or just seeding the idea of mistaking Danny Flint for a man. “The ranger wore the black of the Night’s Watch, but what if he was not a man at all?" (ADWD Bran I) - again, I could see GRRM giggling as he typed that if this theory were true.

Conclusion Honestly, there is every chance this is absolute nonsense, and I've just lost it waiting for TWoW. I tend to lean towards Coldhands not having a big identity reveal, he's an undead ranger co-opted by Bloodraven and that's enough. However, if Coldhands is to have an identity reveal, I think Danny Flint deserves consideration: there aren't that many viable candidates, her story is emotionally intense enough and has been referred to often enough that a casual fan could be expected to go "oh!" instead of "...let me google that", and it would fit with existing themes of the story. The angle of Jon parallels even gives an opening for the reveal to be natural and facilitate character and thematic arcs, which is what I look for in a theory.

comment on reddit

Yeah, the Flint (of Flint's Finger) sigil literally being a Cold Hand is what sold me on this when I started looking into it. There's also some other intriguing textual stuff about it...

The weird thing about Danny Flint is that she is only mentioned three times in all of ASOIAF. Three! Bran recounts her tale in Bran IV, ASOS; Theon hears Wyman Manderly demand her song in The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD; and Jon discusses her tale with Tormund in Jon XII, ADWD.

This was kind of shocking to me. Danny Flint is a pretty recognizable name to, I’d figure, the majority of attentive readers. I thought she must have been mentioned before the third book, at least, but… nope. Her tale is first introduced to us in Bran IV, ASOS, the Nightfort chapter… Oh, what’s that? Wait, isn’t that… the very same Nightfort chapter where we first hear about Coldhands? (Well, no, actually, he appears at the end of Samwell III before that, but this is the first chapter where he is identified as Coldhands.) Chronologically, Sam meets Coldhands, Bran thinks about Danny Flint, and then Sam introduces Bran to Coldhands, in fairly quick succession.

So it seems GRRM came up with Danny Flint and Coldhands around the exact same time. Interesting. Danny Flint is then not mentioned again until ADWD, when the Coldhands mystery is developed further. Double interesting.

Also, the Bran chapter directly preceding the Nightfort chapter– our first introduction to Danny Flint– is the one where Meera tells him the story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, another tale of a northern warrior woman dressing as a man and hiding her face in service of some greater goal. Stretch? Maybe.

And why would Coldhands' face be covered at all if there WASN'T some big reveal upcoming? What utility would that have? That scarf clearly seems like a setup for SOMETHING. He doesn't need it for warmth. He's likely hiding a face that would make him recognizable to Bran/Meera/Jojen (and the readers), but died long ago... the only way that reveal could work without a ton of laborious exposition is if he took off the scarf and it was obviously a 'female' face, making it obviously Danny. It also seems likely Coldhands will interact with at least Bran and Meera again, both of whom are somewhat connected to Danny Flint’s story– Bran via his love of stories and legends, and Meera via the breaking of gender roles. So there's thematic levels to it as well.

source www . reddit . com/r/asoiaf/comments/llwm8m/coldhands_identity_spoilers_extended/

[lunaticlua]

how do you make a home? // part 4

series masterlist

the story is also available on ao3

a/n: i want to thank you so much for all the feedback i’ve been receiving. it really means the world to me. hope you like this past, because i loved writing it :)

tw: mentions of canon physical abuse + short description of past parents’ death

always prioritize your mental health!

chapter 4: cause you’re my jewel

“spendin' all my nights alone, waitin' for you to call me. you're the only one i want by my side when i fall asleep.” (SUGAR – brockhampton)

JJ hadn’t prepared himself for coming to his house Friday night. He was set on going to John B’s to drink beer and chat on the hammocks as arranged earlier on the week. But the thing about his life is that it never works out as he thinks that it will. He didn’t expect as a child to be abandoned by his mother and to be left to his own devices. He didn’t expect to come by such a supportive group of friends, a family in almost every aspect of the word. He didn’t expect to be beat up by his own father because he forgot to clean the dishes at nine years old. He didn’t expect to meet her. Sometimes, the surprises weren’t completely awful.

This one was, though.

In the middle of his way to the Château, he remembered that he needed to pick up his phone charger back at his house before John B stopped lending him his as he had warned. It was supposed to be just a quick detour. He would get it and leave. Simple and straightforward. He could do it. The pain in his back the next morning is enough proof that he actually couldn’t do it.

Luke wasn’t the happiest to see him. Intoxicated and angry was never a good combination when it came to the man. He was pissed about the mess on the house or being recently fired or the resemblance between JJ and his runaway mother. The boy had stopped trying to understand what set his dad off a long time ago. The result was always the same, regardless.

Being shoved into the kitchen counter and then having to clean up the mess his father made wasn’t on the plans for the night, but he accepted and sent a short text to his friends stating that he would see them on the morning. It wasn’t worth it trying to go. His mood and his night were already sour.

However, laying on his bed with his door locked and his demons away, he was able to allow his mind to travel to the girl who had been occupying his thoughts. His motto may be ‘deny, deny, deny’, but, in the dark with no one around, it gets harder to pretend that he doesn’t have feeling for Lulu. The lightheartedness he feels when he is listening to her favorite songs with her. The way her eyes shine brighter than the midday sun when he is by her side. The incessant bliss that takes over his body every time she talks to him, smile at him, touches him. Hell, every time she even looks at him. He simply can’t deny that he is falling hard for her. His last thoughts before drifting into sleep are about how much he wishes that she could be there with him.

The morning after, he commits to himself to spend the day with the Pogues. He leaves the house before Luke wakes up with his charger and some extras sets of clothes, deciding to stay out of his sight for a couple of days. When he arrives at the Château, he finds his best friend, who looks up to him as he is approaching, feeding the rooster.

“Hey, man. We missed you last night. Something happened?”

“The usual,” he shrugs. As much as he loves and trusts the other boy, venting about his dad’s behavior is definitely not on the menu for the day. He just wants to chill with his friends. “So, what is the plan?”

“I was thinking fishing,”

“Sounds good.”

After sending a text to Kie and Pope saying that they will pick them up on the way, the teenagers hop on the HMS Pogue. The first stop is the Heyward's Seafood. Collecting Pope is always a hard task because of his father’s distaste towards John B and JJ. He has a soft spot for Kiara and, therefore, she is normally the one to take the boy away from the shop. But, in her absence, JJ takes the place. He may the one the old Heyward dislikes the most, but he is the best at confusing the man and giving Pope the opportunity to run.

When they come to their destination, the blonde boy hitches the line to the cleat at the end of the dock and directs himself to the shop entrance. As he is about to open the door, he runs into someone he is not expecting to see: the girl of his — literal — dreams.

She stares at him with a sweet smile and he feels like he can’t breathe properly. After a brief moment of comfortable silence, they simultaneously ask what the other is doing there. She simply laughs and answers. He can’t stop himself from thinking that she is beautiful in this morning light and this good mood. “Picking up some groceries for Uncle Joe. You?”

“Picking up Pope,” he responds still a little taken aback, gesturing to the door.

“Well, don’t mind me. I will see you Monday,” she says goodbye and disappears faster than he can form another phrase. Fuck, he needs to stop acting like this in front of her. He shakes his head, trying to get a grip at his feelings, and enters the establishment.

Pope appears in front at him before he can even attempt to look for him with what seems to be his trademarked ‘I discovered something’ face. “You won’t believe who was here.”

“Who?” He asks while he takes advantage of the fact that they are near the door to get away without alerting Pope’s dad.

“Three words: The Jones’s Orphan.” JJ tries to remember who his friend is referring to without success and, due to the lack of response, the other boy continues with shock on his voice. “You don’t remember? It is like the biggest thing that ever happened in this island since, I don’t know, Mrs. Crain killing her husband.”

“Just spill it, Pope,” he voices a little curious.

“Seven years ago, Paul Jones killed his wife in front of his daughter and then killed himself. Ringing any bells? Man, how could you forget? Everyone talked about it for months. The girl even skipped town. But now she is back, and I saw her. She literally just left. You must have…”

The teenager continued to talk, but JJ’s mind was going a mile per minute. Flashes of memories are coming back to him fast. It couldn’t be. No, no. The girl is definitely not her. It is a coincidence. It must be someone else. But an encounter many years ago that hadn’t thought about for years now comes back to him. Those forest green eyes. Oh, no, it couldn’t be.

“Pope, what is her name again?”

“The wife? I think it was Cecilia, but I am not—"

“No. The girl. The Jones’s Orphan or whatever. What was her name?” He exasperates.

“Lulu Jones. But really, man, how can you have forgotten all of this? She was in your class or something.” JJ feels out of air. It is her. She is the girl from the pier. The girl who lost her family. The girl with big teary forest green eyes. Oh, God. He needs to talk to her. And it needs to be now.

They are in front of the boat now, but he looks at both of his friends and knows that he can’t go. Not after receiving this big bomb. His plans are once again changed.

“Hmm, guys, I need to go,” he tells, already picking up his backpack from the floor of the HMS Pogue.

“What? Are you going to bail again?” John B retorts with frustration, but he doesn’t have time for this now. He will deal with his best friend later. Now, he needs to find her like she had found him many years ago.

“Sorry,” he apologizes and runs to the opposite direction before he can hear another word. He doesn’t stop until he is in front of the Campbell’s house. It must have taken approximately twenty minutes for him to get there, but he doesn’t even notice or mind. His only thought is of her.

He rings the bell at least six times before she opens the door with a confused expression. “JJ, what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be with the Pogues?

“It’s you,” he says out of breath and she giggles. She is beautiful and he doesn’t want to break the magic.

“Of course, it’s me. I live here,” her smile is inebriating, and he can’t believe that he hadn’t connected the dots before. “Did you run here? Come in. I will give you a glass of water.”

He follows her inside to the kitchen and watches her pour the water for him. She is about to offer it when he speaks again. “It’s you.”

“Yes, JJ. Are you okay? You are worrying me,” she frowns at him. The girl in front of him is adorable and he almost gives up from entering the subject with fear of what will cause on her.

“No. I mean, yes.” The way her puzzled face morphs into sad and broken after he continues, making him regret immediately his words, is something he unfortunately will remember twenty years later. “It is you. Lulu Jones, it’s you.”

“so, call the search off, i didn’t think i’d find you” (jewel – adam melchor)

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Beyond Broken - Chapter Two

Have you read chapter one?

Warnings:  There’s mild homophobia from a secondary character, and implied repercussions by that same character.  Really he’s just old and set in his ways.

For more chapters see my Thor Odinson Mobile Masterlist

The Lonely Man

On Saturday Jess ran the emergency dental clinic until two o’clock when Sadie came in to replace her. She made it to David’s a little after three, taking a detour along the costal road by Ocean Beach Park.  The previous night had really stuck in her head, like the spark of connection with another equally tortured soul.  It was absurd and she knew it, but she found herself driving passes around the block anyway, searching.  It was a futile venture.

William Sr. was full of smiles when he answered the door.

“There she is!”  He beamed brightly.  “My favourite girl.”  His hug was firm and sincere.

“Ahh, Bill,” Jess chuckled, “not so loud or Daisy will get jealous.”

He winked at her with a cheeky grin and waved a hand at her as if to say ‘nonsense’.

“How’re you keeping? I hear you’re still looking after my David.  He really loves your company, you know.  You keep him sane, and me, if truth be told.  He’d be in the house every night moping around getting under my feet if he didn’t meet you almost every evening.  And you know I appreciate you helping out with the dog an all.”  Bill didn’t wait for a reply but pottered eagerly into the kitchen.  “Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee, please.”  She’d need it after the horrific night sleep she got the night before.  “I’m doing ok, thanks for asking.  David an I really keep each other sane.  He keeps me occupied so I don’t think about things too much.”

Bill’s eyes darkened as if a shadow had passes over his face momentarily.  Jess knew it was still hard for him.  It was hard for them all.

“He tells me you’re still enjoying your Sunday night meet.”

Bill only smiled by way of a reply.

“Sugar?  Or are you still sweet enough?”

“Sweet enough.”  She winked.

Daisy came running in at that moment and jumped up at her legs, laddering her tights and smearing mud up her shins.  Luckily the knee-length pencil skirt she wore was spared the muddy make-over.

“Oh you stupid dog, leave the girl alone!”  Bill bent, strained to pick her up.  “Davey boy, come get this dog back in the utility room, she’s getting mud all over the place.”

“No harm done.  I can live without the tights.”

“Hi!” David enthused, breathless, wearing a toothy gurn and wide eyes in place of a smile.  He grabbed Daisy and took her back to get her cleaned. “We’ve just been down to the old stream.”  He called from the other room.  “All the rain has turned it into a river and a lot of the land has flooded.”

“Surprised they haven’t concreted that over to make a car park yet.”  Bill scoffed, handing her a steaming cup.

“Thanks.”  She sipped and sat with William Sr. as he resumed his afternoon TV session.

Watching the news was unbearable.  People were still talking about Disintegration Day.  This new D-Day had surpassed the world war II D-Day by quite a significant factor.  Each city in America, and around the world probably, was erecting monuments, naming all those lost in what they were now calling The Infinity War.  She didn’t pretend to know what that meant but it didn’t change the harsh reality of the outcome.  We had lost but not without trying, apparently.  The scale of this attack was far greater than that on New York and The Avengers had been powerless to stop it.

Jess knew very little about who and what The Avengers were, besides work talk and her talks with David. There had been public out-cry, people slating the group for their failure, calling for them to be brought to justice for bringing this war here to earth.  What had become clear in the following weeks was that this Infinity War had been universal.  Half of all life in the whole universe had been wiped out. How can a small group of people such as they fight a war that large on so many fronts?  It was impossible.

Just leave them alone.  Jess thought each time she heard the criticism.  They’re people too.  They’ve lost loved ones just the same as us.

“You ready to go?” David smiled down at her.  How long had he been there?

“Yeah, sorry.”  She shook herself free of the stupor that had gripped her, taking a long swig of her cooled coffee.  “You sure you’re not up for a late lunch, Bill?”

David shot her a daggered look.

“Nuh-uh.”  He grunted without taking his eyes off the TV.  “I’m not one for these trendy wine bars and fancy restaurants.  You go enjoy yourselves.”

She chuckled, if only he knew how few trendy wine bars and fancy restaurants there were left.

“Why did you insist on inviting him?”  David pouted from the passenger seat.  His feminine side was really showing through more and more lately.  Silas was the likely catalyst for this development.

“He’s got feelings.  And inviting him at least shows we care. Besides, he never accepts.”

She pulled away down the cluttered street.

All but the big towns and cities were becoming more and more run down as time went on.  There were fewer sanitation workers now, hell, there were fewer of every kind of worker, but the same number of streets.  The Stark Foundation’s Disaster Relief Initiative had been put into place two  months ago, where the homeless and unemployed were all suddenly employed and homed thanks to vacancies and empty homes created by D-Day.  It was taking a while, but humanity was gradually getting itself back on its feet.  Things would never be the same but that didn’t mean it had to be all bad.

Jess’s dinner plans with David were mostly a ruse, just as the dog walking was, and virtually everything else in David’s life.  They grabbed something quick in an uptown bar before David shot off to meet his lover.

“I don’t know why you don’t tell Bill that you’re gay.”  She’d said to him once, a few months back.

“Because he’ll disown me and it’ll probably kill him.”  He’d replied, swiping through grinder on his phone.

“Has he said as much?”

“Yeah.”  David had stopped scrolling and turned his phone to her to reveal a sultry looking man with dark chest hair and a shaved head. “What do you think?”

“Too cliché.”  She’d sipped her cocktail and rolled her eyes. “What were his exact words?”

“To quote…”  David had dropped his phone into his pocket and stared at her with an irritated glare.  “’When are you going to get a girlfriend, huh?  Double-you-Jay started dating Jess before he was your age.  I swear, boy, you better not turn out to be one of them fairies or I’ll skin you alive and disown you.’  He also added ‘you’ll send me and your mother to an early grave, damned boy.’”

Jess had accepted that, yes, maybe William Sr. was a bit of a homophobe.  It had been a long time since she’d heard the old man refer to his eldest son as double-you-jay (W.J. for William Junior).  Bill got over that phase when she and Will got engaged. Maybe he didn’t think of him as a man until he was on his way towards marriage.

So that put Jess squarely in the realms of helping David lie to his father and covering up for him while he went and got laid.  It did make her wonder what kind of relationship it was, and would it last if the people in it could only see each other a few hours a day in clandestine meetings of sordid debauchery?  And they were debauched, David had told her as much.

Whatever works for them.  He’s happy.  Let it go.

At 7pm she found herself back on the boardwalk at Ocean Beach Park instead of back at the practice catching up on paperwork.  Heels and a skirt that limited your leg movements were not things one should wear for negotiating uneven terrain; she stumbled a few times on her way down to the waterfront.  The clouds weren’t all that dense yet, some of them looked more white than grey, which was a change.

She leaned against the railing by marker twelve, it really was a beautiful spot. The regal trees and grassy expanse of the park at her back, dissected by well worn footpaths and clusters of flowering shrubs, clean pale sands stretching along in front of the silvery-wood deck of the boardwalk, and beyond, the deep Prussian blue expanse of the Atlantic mantled by tempestuous skies, all perfectly framed by minimum human clutter.

“No dog today?”  A deep voice scared her into an undignified squeak.

Clutching her chest, gasping, she whipped around to face the man.  

“I apologise, if I scared you.”  The lonely man held his hands up in mock surrender.

“No, it’s ok.  Well, I mean, you did, but it’s ok.”  She panted a little, leaning forward to catch her breath again.

There was more light than when she’d previously seen him.  His hood was down revealing dark-blonde hair that was short at the sides and longer on top, a neatly trimmed beard and the most perfect teeth she’d seen in quite a while.  His smile faded quickly as he searched her face with concern, one crystal clear, almost iridescent, blue eye and one hazel eye scanning her reaction.

Heterochromia.  That was rare.

“Once again, I apologise.” He lowered his gaze and began to turn away.  “I shall leave you be.”

“No!”  She lurched forward with her hand outstretched to stop him. “This is kind of your spot anyway, I’m just squatting here.”  She rolled her hand in a beckoning motion.  “Please.  Stay.”

“Very kind of you.”

His accent was strange, English maybe but she wasn’t quite sure.  He leaned on the railing at just over arm’s length from her, respecting the unspoken boundaries that strangers should about personal space.

They stood a while, looking out across the water.  It was comfortable, she didn’t feel awkward until she suddenly remembered his question.

“No dog.”  She said, nodding embarrassingly, giggling a little at how stupid she sounded.

The lonely man dipped his head forward, a smile playing on his lips.

“She’s an energetic one. I trust your gentleman friend is doing his duty this evening otherwise you will have a rampant puppy to contend with tonight.”  He rumbled a short chortle at his internal imagery.

“He has.”   David was family, not a ‘gentleman friend’.

She continued to look out across the water, feeling the chill of the metal railings bite into her forearms through her white chiffon blouse.  It had been a mild day up until now, but with the light fading and the wind beginning to pick up she wished she’d brought her jacket from the car. Her sweater vest only did so much and, honestly, she hadn’t intended to stay so long.

“It doesn’t look as though it’ll storm so hard tonight, the air feels a bit lighter.”  She glanced to her right to see him nodding.  “Will you miss the rain?”

He looked at her then, with a pained look, mouth and brows set into a solemn expression.

“There are other things than rain to cleanse the spirit.”  His tone was almost sagely.  He offered her a thin-lipped smile.

“I suppose you’re right.” Jess had almost forgotten the cold by then.  Her mind was quiet.

They stood in the failing light until ten o’clock rolled around.  The lonely man was the first to break their mutual silence.

“I suppose I should let you go.”  He rumbled quietly.  “Shouldn’t keep you here any longer with my captivating presence.”  He flashed her a brilliant smile and she couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“I’m not exactly handcuffed to the railings here.”  She laughed. A light feeling she thought she’d lost bubbled up delicately in her chest.  For the first time in ten months she felt like she might be able to find herself again, if only she could let herself feel something other than agonising loss.  “But I should go.  I’m the designated driver.”  She raised her eyebrows and sighed.

“I hope your gentleman friend doesn’t keep you waiting again this evening.”  The lonely man called after her.

“Me too.  It was nice to meet you.”  She waved from the start of the trail that would take her to her car.

“Likewise.”

[friendshipcampaign]

Session Recap 10/12/19: Prima Materia

In the morning, the party found they had several messages waiting for them from the Gatekeepers. 

Erwyn’s, from Palava, read:

dear erwyn,

we interacted with the raliv mercantile co when we were in veritas. one of a number of individuals promising aid to the city in exchange for increased political clout. spokesperson for the company was huxley emberbraid montfort, a noble from mardros. cant say i liked him much, but i find it hard to like anyone who sees a tragedy as a way to make themselves richer and more powerful. ive heard vilars name but dont know much about her. we were certainly not aware of any infernal ties or we would have warned you and done our best to warn the city as well exclamation point. what information do you have about this cult and its potential ties to veritas question mark. weve all been stretched so thin that we havent been able to do much in the way of preventative investigation im sorry to say. its hard enough to keep up with the active breaches. find out what you can, but do be careful. demons and devils are always out for each others blood, and they wont be picky about who gets caught in the crossfire. 

also, violetta should have mentioned it in her message to voski, but one of our friends has been detecting some increased planar distortions around veritas. it looks like someones trying very hard to start another breach. if we figure out where they are, we should still be able to nip it in the bud, but we think theyve mounted some magical defenses to make it more difficult to pinpoint. keep us informed and watch out for yourself, 

alembic and palava

Ditto had a message waiting for her as well, from Hubris, that elaborated on her research question from before.

ditto, quick research update. 

ive found very little but im going to keep digging exclamation point. everything pre fourth era is pretty spotty of course unless you want to go bothering ozogot the black. plenty of references to the devotion of the citizens of veritas but nearly nothing about what they were devoted to. 

one interesting thing is the account of the gnomish historian gibberty booklore chatterjack penner squirrelchase yapp gallbug townkeeper talltale tallyho prickingbone, whose books were blessed to remain indelible in the face of magic that distorts memories and history. she mentions going to a high temple on her visit to the city and remarks on the devotion of the humans who live there when she visited during the reign of king ulfgar the stern beneath the mountains. when she returned some years later after the third skeleton war, which saw the temporary takeover of the city by the lichlord saerevon, she instead discusses how strange it is that no deity seems able to maintain a strong presence in veritas, and that none has done so as long as anyone remembers. it could be an issue of incorrect or fragmentory histories surviving, but i would focus investigations on the transitional period between the fourth and fifth eras. 

other accounts from the same period suggest that by then worship had transferred to the divine messenger whose image persists to this day, and that the deity themselves was kept secret if not already forgotten. if she was worshiped as a mystery cult theyve done a very good job of covering their records. if her name had already been lost, gibbertys texts suggest that theres something fishy going on. seems that veritas has always been a city of mysteries exclamation point. will keep searching semicolon its time to get into some of the fringe theorists which should be quite a ride. 

cheers, hubris

Finally, Voski also had a message waiting, from Violetta, reading:

kasia, re: karin mordechai

karin mordechai unknown. could be alias or figurehead. provide names and descriptions of associates and i will cross reference them with known entities. note readings indicate increased instability in veritas. spike on night of blomhath twentieth. attempt to identify source and neutralize if possible. can provide backup for strike but not extended investigation.

In preparation for their next plans, Ditto asked Tiktik if they would be alright doing some spying for the group and if she could turn them into a beetle. They told her she would have to bribe them, but they were willing, and she promised them chicken in exchange for their service before transforming them into a small insect.

The party decided that in order to keep the demons watching them from realizing where they had taken Tenny, they would turn Amaranth invisible, then give her the demiplane (with Tenny inside) to take into Grankhul’s Rest to drop the girl off and explain the situation. Once Ditto had cast Invisibility on her, they headed out and started making their way towards the inn -- followed by a large row of demonic pigeons who were keeping pace with them as they went. With the rest of the party keeping them distracted, though, Amaranth was able to break away from the rest of the group and sneak inside the inn.

Inside, she saw Selfish Dann reading a book by the fireplace and decided she’d prefer to have this conversation with the tiefling of the inn’s group. She spoke up once she was nearby, startling him. She explained she was invisible, but that she’d like to talk somewhere private, and he suggested they go to the basement. Once there, Amaranth explained that the party had someone that needed looking after, and they thought the inn’s caretakers would be the best equipped of anyone they could ask to deal with the kind of danger she was in. When Dann asked for details, she explained some of Tenny’s situation, and he agreed they could take care of her.

Amaranth opened the demiplane to see an eclectic arrangement of decor that Tenny had come up with while getting transported. She complimented the girl’s taste and Tenny told her not to let the others make the place boring, if they could make whatever they wanted. Amaranth then led her out to meet Selfish Dann, who promised Amaranth that they would take good care of her. 

After leaving Grankhul’s Rest, Amaranth caught up with the rest of the party. Still invisible, she jumped up behind Kriv and tried to startle him, causing the dragonborn to reflexively elbow her and Erwyn, despite the distance, to startle and slightly jump. Once she had reappeared, the group started to make their way to a place near the exclusion zone, so that Ditto could send Tiktik to fly overhead and see what they could beyond the walls. On their way up she took the chance to gaze through their eyes and got a view of a goopy, black, stagnant lake with things moving below the surface. A group of workers, watched over by burnished metal constructs, were trying to skim algae from the water’s surface. Eventually, Tiktik reported back that they had reached a point above the exclusion zone that had kept them from going forward -- like a painful magical force that repelled them away from it. 

Moving to their next location, the party passed the Blacks’ smithing shop. It had clearly taken damage from the recent attack of bones, but from the sounds inside it seemed to still be operating. They then arrived near enough the workhouse that they could try sending Tiktik inside, though once they had gone in the party kept walking a little so as not to be too near its vicinity. They decided the elephant statue was a good place to casually hang around and parked there for a bit. Kriv pulled out a sketchbook to do a little drawing of it while they waited.

Eventually Tiktik returned, speaking quickly to Ditto about everything they’d just seen. Apparently once they passed the room with the nervous-looking clerk some of the party members had met before, they’d found themselves in a nice office, where a halfling woman was talking to a fire genasi man, the latter fiddling around with some kind of weird fork. After that they had picked up on a weird draft coming from a bookcase that, when they investigated further, had a door behind it, leading to a room with some kind of magic circle on the floor. They then backtracked through the last couple of rooms to make their way to the cell block, which had a door at the end that was being guarded by a large construct that lead to a row of higher-security cells, with thicker walls and more constructs milling about.

With one more destination for Tiktik to snoop around in mind, the party next headed towards the mayor’s house. Tiktik went through the gates while the rest of them kept their distance and waited for them to return. After quite a lot of waiting, though, it became clear that something must have happened, as the familiar never returned. When Ditto tried to summon them back to her, nothing happened. So the group took a detour at Knife’s shop, which wasn’t too far away, where Ditto asked her friend if she could cast the spell to bring them back. Knife let her use his upstairs room to do the summoning.

Ditto brought Tiktik back in cat form and they bounded into her as soon as they’d been summoned. They explained that there had been a wyvern inside the stables behind the Mayor’s house, and it had chomped them before they could get away. The two of them headed downstairs to return to the others and Ditto thanked Knife for the use of his quarters. He assured her they were open to her anytime.

The party’s next order of business was to find a new place to stay for the night. Hoping to follow up on Nilo’s other recommendation, they went to The Pig’s Eye in order to ask Frileg where the Thirsty Sage was, as it didn’t seem to be along Keeper’s Row with all the other inns. She said she knew where it usually was, but warned them to be careful, as it seemed to pop in and out of existence unpredictably. Apparently the place was an old wizard’s tower, now run as an inn by an eccentric goblin, and sometimes people would go in for a night and turn up weeks later terribly confused. She attributed Nilo’s success with the place to his halfling luck.

They followed Frileg’s directions and found that the Thirsty Sage was in fact there for the moment. The building itself had a chimney with multicolored smoke billowing out of it and a heavy metal door which, when they knocked on it, was flung open enthusiastically by a manic-looking one-eyed goblin in a blue robe covered in golden stars and matching hat. The goblin ushered them in and did their best to give a tour, pointing out some of the strange magic paraphernalia decorating the place, but it was deeply clear they had very little idea what they were talking about. The group talked with them for a bit about accommodations, but were still hesitant about the idea. Erwyn and Amaranth in particular voiced concerns about what would happen if they weren’t so lucky in the time department, and in the end, they decided it was too risky and bid the goblin proprietor farewell. In parting, they told the group their name was the Acrimonious Bimbimble.

No extra time had passed when the party emerged, fortunately. They returned to the Pig’s Eye and Ditto asked Frileg if she had any other ideas about places in the city that might be safe to stay. As Ditto rambled, the dwarven woman gave her a glass of ale -- which she largely ignored and Amaranth finished -- but unfortunately her only ideas we either the Slumbering Grell or some boardinghouses she knew were receptive to people on the run from certain things.

The group quietly decided they would just need to find an alleyway or other place to lay low for the night. Amaranth started noting the beggar’s marks she saw on some of the abandoned storefronts in the city, looking for one pointing to a likely spot. There were more empty buildings than usual in the wake of the disaster, with some of the citizens of Veritas having decided to cut their losses and flee, so she soon found a good candidate in a building accessed by an alleyway, with a secure basement behind a shuttered door. On seeing it wasn’t clearly occupied, the party decided it would be where they retreated that evening -- and indeed, decided they would lie low there for a little before meeting with Tress that evening. Tiktik wove their way around the party members as they did, as if to seek attention for having done dangerous things for them all earlier.

As the hour of Candling arrived, the party made their way to Inner Truths for their appointment with Tress. She was waiting for them, petting Palette’s filigreed exterior. She greeted them, saying that the project had been much more interesting than she’d been expecting, and that she thought they might want to discuss things privately. Somewhat suspiciously, Kriv tried a quick Divine Sense, but felt nothing unusual. Her enthusiasm was more familiar, however, to Voski.

Tress lead them to her back room and shut the door. Inside, a table had been laid out with supplies and tools for an experiment: the leaf Erwyn had given her, several different vials, a basin with assorted arcane sigils carved in the top, a houseplant, and another glass vial containing a few flies. She explained that she’d been able to identify a partial transfiguration effect turning parts of the leaf to graphite. She snapped it in half to demonstrate these properties, revealing that it was only the outer shell that had calcified, while the inner layer still consisted of dying plant matter.

She went on to say that that the tincture they’d given her was primarily water with a little alcohol in it, and had the remains of a very low-level light spell on it -- a common practice by snake-oil salesmen to make their product appear magical when it really wasn’t. She then held out a glass vial with the remains of some particulate in it, which was left over once she’d distilled the tincture down, and added that she had absolutely no idea what it was.

Tress said that she’d been testing the properties of the material, using an alchemist’s vessel to multiply the quantity to perform experiments. She said she was going to perform a demonstration of this process, but that the magic would only be in effect for a short time, and asked them to save their “questions, comments, and shocked gasps” until the end.

She scooped some of the particulate onto a small bone tool, added it to the vessel with the sigils, then poured in some water and swirled it around. Taking a leaf from the healthy plant, she dipped it into this compound, where it immediately turned to graphite. She dropped this leaf on the floor and it shattered instantly. Next, she took a dead fly from the bottom of the insect vial and dipped it into the basin as well. There was no effect. She extracted another fly, this one live. When the live fly was dipped into the compound, it instantly turned to graphite the way the leaf had. She then took a leaf from a different vial, where it had been soaking in the remnants of the tincture, and dipped it. This one hardened and turned to graphite as well, but when she dropped it, it didn’t shatter the way the first leaf had. 

Finally, Tress took a small knife. “I did already bleed for this, if there is another volunteer,” she said meaningfully.

Erwyn offered his hand and she pricked it. When his blood mixed with the tincture, it turned to the same graphite substance as the leaf and the living fly had. She looked a bit surprised at this, then turned to Voski.

“Kasia,” she asked. “Are they going to be weird about it?”

Voski reassured Tress her companions could exercise discretion. Tress proceeded to prick her own finger with the knife. A drop of her blood welled up, dark blue-black, and when it hit the mixture in the basin, it didn’t turn to graphite like Erwyn’s had. Instead, it turned to gold. 

The tincture mixture seemed to evaporate from the vessel as the magic effect amplifying it ran out. Tress commented that the demonstration hadn’t been exactly what she was expecting, but she should have assumed there might be more variables.

With questions now open, the party asked her opinion on what might have been in the vials, mentioning the people peddling the tinctures claimed they had ingredients sourced from the elemental planes. She said it was hard to verify that for certain, though the water certainly wasn’t plane-touched, and added that whatever was causing the transformation was highly diluted in the tinctures themselves. She also pointed out that, as had been clear from her demonstration with the leaves, immediate, quick exposure caused the transformation to be more brittle, whereas the prolonged dosage seemed to result in a more stable, gradual process.

The group began to discuss possible motivations behind the revelation. It was obvious that the tinctures wouldn’t persist as a fad if they had such visible negative effects, so diluting the effect ensured a wider exposure for whatever purpose the sellers had in mind. Erwyn pointed out that with everything else going on in Veritas, there were certainly other things people might blame ill effects on, like the background energy from the Abyss all over the city. Ditto also brought up that it was already well-known people were mysteriously going missing, so it was possible some of the worst effects were being hidden. Tress added that at the dosage people seemed to be taking of the tinctures, it would likely take several weeks or even a month or two for them to notice any reaction. She noted, though, that she hadn’t been able to perform any longitudinal studies, and it was always possible that at a certain point the effects could speed up.

Ditto, unable to contain herself, finally burst out asking Tress what her deal was, since her blood had reacted so differently. Tress sighed and replied that she was an air genasi -- underscored by the fact that, where she had cut her finger, there was now smeared makeup revealing blue-tinted skin -- and asked the party not to make a big deal about it. She said that while her blood’s reaction to the tincture was interesting, she couldn’t imagine there were enough other genasi in the city to make it worth their while. Erwyn wondered if it might be a quality of plane-touched individuals in general, and Kriv asked if she would be willing to do the experiment again, looking at Amaranth as he spoke. Tress said she would need another tincture, but was willing, and would be working late that evening if they were able to get one by then.

The party departed for the Pig’s Eye after that. When they got there, Nilo had not yet arrived. Sparrow was there, however, and came over to Amaranth, offering to buy her a drink. Ditto gave Amaranth a surreptitious thumbs-up while Kriv, teasingly, stuck his tongue out instead.

The drow demon who had been frequenting the place arrived soon after, looking somewhat less nervous than she usually did. She took a seat in the corner and beckoned Voski over. At this, Voski ordered the drink with Underdark fruit syrup the demon had recommended to her the night before, then took it and sat down with her to talk.

The yochlol told Voski that she had talked with her Lady and was more comfortable speaking openly now that Voski wasn’t such a stranger. She also said that the Lady had something to ask of Voski, as repayment for granting her blessing -- commenting that it seemed she was having some trouble protecting her “investment” as she glanced over at Erwyn.

She said she and some of her companions had been transporting an item to a city in the Underdark, but had been caught in Veritas when the current situation erupted. She and her companions (several drow, who she feared had perished) were taking a detour through the markets when the portal opened, and the artifact had been lost or stolen in the chaos. She had since been unable to reclaim it or find anyone to assist her in doing so, as it was lost in the exclusion zone and everyone she’d attempted to hire had proven unreliable.

Voski asked if, since they had been caught so off guard, this meant the Lady hadn’t had a hand in the events in Veritas. The yochlol explained that this breach didn’t seem to have been planned by any known power in the Abyss, and whatever had broken through had kept to itself enough that the other demons weren’t certain which layer had even caused it. She also admitted, when pressed, that she too was trapped inside the city by the barrier that was keeping the other demons in. Lolth had other ways of extracting her, but she couldn’t return empty-handed.

Finally Voski asked about the artifact. The yochlol said she was looking for a magical harp, finely constructed and very important to Lolth, as it was used in several rituals down in the Underdark. While it was missing, she could tell it wasn’t destroyed, thanks to her connection to Lolth. 

After explaining that she was hoping Voski could retrieve it, she offered her a silver brooch in the shape of a spider, set with purple and blood-red stones, which she said would signify to other demons that Lolth had a vested interest in her and, perhaps, encourage them to leave her alone. She commented that Lolth found her amusing, and would prefer if she didn’t die. Voski accepted the brooch and tucked it away into her armor, though she added that she didn’t subcontract and would not enlist any of the others to search on Lolth’s behalf. But, since they were headed into the exclusion zone soon enough, she would try to take a look around while she was there.

As she rose to leave, Voski realized they’d never properly introduced themselves to each other and asked the yochlol if there was any name she wanted Voski to call her by. The demon shrugged and said she didn’t see the point. Voski nodded, then invited her to tell her Lady that Voski intended to survive, with or without her help. Then she added that the drink the yochlol had recommended was surprisingly good.

“Right?” the demon said.

Voski returned to the others, who were enjoying the music of the one-armed bard, Meg, who had played there the night before. Erwyn was sipping from another glass of milk, conjured earmuffs from Ditto present yet again, and Amaranth continued chatting with Sparrow until Nilo and Clarity finally showed up. When the pair finally entered the tavern, Nilo was clad in his “work clothes” -- a combination of dark roguish attire and dozens upon dozens of different good luck charms, ranging from onions to holy symbols rubbed with lamp-black so they were less obvious -- and somehow still moving silently. He was clearly ready for crimes.

[bluraaven]

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 3

"What a shithole."

Reynauld put down the bag that contained their collected 'evidence' and followed Guyot's gaze.  He wasn't sure if his friend was referring to the condition of the room before or after they'd been through it, or to the motel as a whole.  Somehow it was impossible to imagine that it had ever seen better times.  It was a shabby place, where electric outings were the norm, and where the rooms were in worse shape than most of the prison cells he had seen.  

Through the grimy windows and broken shutters only a little light managed to find its way to illuminate the sad pile that were their meagre findings.

On the upside, the prosecution had sanctioned the raid almost as soon as they could pinpoint a location.  On the downside, it was only a partial success.  They had some of Dismas' belongings now, but they did not have the man himself.  The Chief had wanted a bust, and now all they had to show for it was a duffel bag full of clothes and a few toiletries.

"What do we have here?" Despite her being hidden behind the sofa, there was no mistaking the excitement in Lin's voice.   She laughed, then held up a flat object, waving it around triumphantly.

"What's that?"  Guyot asked, his eyes narrowing in an attempt to make out what it was their colleague had found.

"A notebook." Lin said, climbing back to her feet with a huge grin.

"Good work!" Reynauld praised with a smile of his own.  This had to be the best find yet.  Trust the sniper to find something good.  "Is that everything?"

"Yes," Lin confirmed.  "I was hoping to find a data stick too, or a CD, but no.  Only the laptop, and of course it would be hidden in the last place left," she huffed.  "So what do we do now?"

So far they had checked under the rug for hidey holes, they'd moved all the furnishings to check the spaces behind them; and finally they had taken apart some of the furniture.  There wasn't an inch left that had not had at least two police officers check it for something that might help their case.

"Bag it," Reynauld decided with a nod at the notebook, "And let's wrap this up."

"On it," Lin answered.  "I'll tell the others we're all done."  She pulled out her radio and disappeared through the doorway.  Reynauld nodded absent-mindedly, taking one last look at the room.  There was no telling that there had been a squad digging through it.  Everything was back in its place, and the room looked exactly as it had when they had arrived – minus any trace of its former occupant.

"Think he'll come back?" Guyot asked quietly.

"He would be stupid if he did," Reynauld responded, not at all alarmed by Guyot's mind-reading abilities.  After being friends for as many years as they had been, he had learned to live with Guyot's occasional bouts of clairvoyance.  "And we have been told he's anything but."

There was no point in waiting around.  Reynauld closed the door, and made for the staircase.  They would discreetly station a few police officers here, but Dismas had proven himself to be good enough at evading the authorities that there was not much hope of him returning to this place after their less-than-subtle approach.

"I guess the Chief makes mistakes too," Guyot dared to speak up when they were halfway down to the lobby.

"It wouldn't have hurt him to listen to me," Reynauld growled.  He refrained from hitting the rail, because it might actually come undone and kill someone on the ground floor.  Which would mean even more work for him.  "We could have had Paixdecoeur behind bars by now!  Why put me in charge if he was going to- ," he paused and made a vague motion in the air with his hand, "fuck it all up anyway."  Reynauld's shoulders slumped, most of the anger gone now.

He had opposed the raid from the start.  If he'd had a choice, Reynauld would have dealt with the matter the exact same way they did most undercover work.  Take the time to prepare and to verify their target was here.  And then strike before they guy knew what hit him.

"Hey," Guyot said, giving Reynauld's shoulder a pat.  "We'll get him.  He can't run forever."

Unless he had another hideout somewhere.  The one thing they had not found was money.  That meant that Dismas was not only smart enough not to trust the cleaning staff, it also meant he may have prepared for this very case.  If he packed up and left the country, they had no chance of picking up the trail.

"Meanwhile," Guyot lifted the bag that contained the notebook Lin had found, "What do you think we'll find?" he asked with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I'll let you find out," Reynauld sighed.  

Back at the station, Dismas' clothing was searched for weapons or illegal substances, of which neither was found.  It was merely old and worn, but not making him guilty of any crime other than a bad sense of fashion.   Forensics identified Dismas' toiletries as soap and toothpaste – the latter being Wintry Spearmint by Dentacare, as one of Paracelsus' lab assistants was happy to inform Reynauld before asking if he wanted a spit sample (they'd already ran an unauthorized DNA test for reasons unbeknownst to any mortal).

Reynauld thanked him, declined the kind offer, and then backed out of the office without dropping eye contact until he was safe behind the doorsill.

From there on it was back to his office via a detour by the coffee machine, and then on to where Guyot was sitting bent over the notebook.  An old, scratched animal rights sticker that Reynauld had not noticed before indicated that the computer may not always have belonged to Dismas.

"What have you found so far?" he asked, leaning against the desk.

Guyot cast him a dark look, and Reynauld found his spirits lifting marginally.  There was nothing quite as good at improving one's mood as putting someone else in a bad one.

"A lot of steamy guy on guy action," Guyot replied, "and I have to look through every goddamn file, just in case there's something hidden there."

Reynauld hummed and took a sip of his coffee.  "Have fun."

"Ain't that more up your alley?" Guyot snapped, so Reynauld flipped him off, and left him to his work.  

It was a couple of hours later when Reynauld decided to make another round to see what progress had been made.  The sun was rising, streaking the black sky with ribbons of orange and pink, but except for those who had been on the raid or worked the night shift the bureau was still mostly deserted.

That excluded forensics and IT of course, but the current belief was those guys never slept anyway.

Lin, Ros and Stanley handed in their reports, and this time, instead of giving his attitude, Guyot looked at Reynauld with the woeful eyes of a suffering puppy.  So Reynauld took pity and grabbed an empty seat, deciding to keep his friend some company.

"Anything new?"

"Who even names their porn folder 'PORN'?" Guyot complained, but apparently he had found nothing incriminating.

Reynauld shrugged and looked at the screen where two guys were having a quick tumble in the shower.  And by quick he meant quick, because the video was playing at triple speed, which made it rather amusing to watch.  

Guyot told him about his plans to move together with Lucy, his girlfriend of two years, and Reynauld listened, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate time, and stealing a discreet look at the screen every now and then.

Secretly – because he would die if that thought was ever spoken aloud – he had to admit that Dismas didn't have the worst taste in erotica.  At least all the couples seemed to be genuinely enjoying what they were doing.

Eventually, Guyot sighed and rubbed his temples, and then hit the pause button.  He snorted at the frozen image of one of the actor's private area and slapped the laptop shut.

Reynauld just hoped that sometime before he had made sure that it was not password protected, or they'd have to take it to IT.

They decided to grab a coffee, even though it was a terrible idea because night shift was almost over, and Reynauld rather looked forward to going home and falling into bed face-first.

As it turned out, they were not the first ones to arrive at the kitchen.

"Hey, Lin," Guyot said, waiting until she ha d refilled the coffee machine before brewing a cup for Reynauld and for himself.  "What's up, Para?"

Paracelsus worked in forensics, and was officially forbidden to come within thirty feet of the kitchen without a police officer accompanying her.  There had been one too many cases of someone taking a spontaneous nap after having a cup of coffee, and it had taken the entire PD and a restraint order to convince her to keep her experiments to the inmates.

The doctor with her white lab coat always looked a bit out of place.  She had a slight hunch and large eyes, amplified by her glasses which gave her the appearance of a giant bird.

Reynauld was happy to sit down on the worn but comfy couch and to sip his coffee.  It tasted burned.  He waved off Para's offer of yellow and blue pills ("harmless stimulants, I swear!") and zoned out, letting Guyot and Lin do most of the talking.

"Hey doc, that girlfriend of yours isn't she – " Lin asked suddenly, and Reynauld realized he had long since stopped following the conversation.

"A critically acclaimed archaeology professor?" Para interrupted, wringing her hands.  "Yes!  Yes, she is."

"Is that a mugshot?"  Guyot asked, stretching to see something Paracelsus was holding, and while doing so he jostled Reynauld, who only narrowly avoided spilling his coffee into his lap.  It had grown cold, and he put the practically full mug away.

"No!" Para squealed, pulling away her precious photograph from curious hands and prying eyes.  "It's a driver's licence picture."

"Okay," Guyot laughed.  "Easy there, doc.  Ain't my business whom you date."

"What time is it?" Lin yawned.

"Two minutes past five," Para answered, after checking a silver wristwatch. Reynauld had never seen her wear one before, but then maybe it had been hidden by the floppy lab coat.

"One more hour," Guyot moaned.  "Someone shoot me please.  No thanks, Para."

"It's just something to induce a harmless coma-like state that is perfectly revertible with a shot of –," Paracelsus broke off as no one was listening to her anyway and pocketed the tiny and innocent-looking pink pill with obvious disappointment.

Most the hour passed in a stupor that ended abruptly when they received a paged message from downstairs that the first officers of the day shift had arrived, Mallory amongst them.  That gave them roughly a minute and a half to clear out the area, remove the evidence of any coffee breaks, and to return to their desks.

Guyot fell into his chair with a groan, and opened Dismas' notebook with an expression of intense pain upon his face.  It had just booted, when–

"Special agent Reynauld," A voice from behind them called out.  Reynauld and Guyot both turned to see Mallory approach – at least until she stopped dead in her tracks.  "... is that a penis!?" Mallory's voice rose high enough that even Ros and Marci stuck their heads out of their cubicles, a curious look on their faces.

"It's part of the investigation," Reynauld managed to force out, while next to him Guyot turned a shade that made his freckles indistinguishable from his skin.  At least the sound was off.

Mallory shook her head, and left, muttering something under her breath.

"Sometimes I hate my life," Guyot mumbled.  He still looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.  Reynauld snorted and leaned back, kicking up his feet to rest on the corner of the desk.  He checked the watch.  Twenty more minutes.

But then all thoughts of going home were driven from his mind when next to him Guyot shot upright.

"I found something!" Guyot shouted and tapped the screen.  "There's a text file in here, I knew it!"

Reynauld too sat more upright, feeling awake all of a sudden.  Would they really find something?  Contacts, numbers, maybe a location?  Something to link Paixdecoeur to the Grave Robber, or something to prove he had worked for the Wolf?  Information on El Abuelo, even?

The file took an insultingly long amount of time to load.  Guyot was drumming his fingers on the table, but stopped when a white document opened.  Black on white, in a neat cursive script, there appeared four lines of text:  

Roses are red,  

Violets are blue,  

Feds are pigs–  

Joke's on you.  

Reynauld had one look at Guyot's flabbergast face, and he managed to hold on to his composure for all of three seconds before he burst out laughing.

"Charming," Guyot said flatly and threw a pen at Reynauld that harmlessly bounced off his chest.  "This isn't funny, you know?"  But, as if to belie his words, he too was cracking up.  "What an arsehole," he hiccupped, "what a complete and utter dickbiscuit."

"Do you want to report your findings to the Chief?" Reynauld asked once the first fit had subsided, triggering another salve of laughter.  

"You do realize we have zero proof of... anything," Guyot asked a moment later, putting a dampener on their newfound good mood.

"But we do know Paixdecoeur is a wanted man in the North," Reynauld reasoned.  "Even if we don't find anything else, there are arrest warrants for him in five City-States, and that's only the ones we know about because they are cooperating with us."

"Then this was utterly pointless anyway," Guyot decided, stood up and stretched.  He worked the kinks out of his back, muttering, "I'm sending this in.   Maybe there's hidden files or what the fuck ever.  I hope they're full of dicks too."

Reynauld had to grin at the temper tantrum.  "They're IT, they've seen weirder shit."

Guyot hmphed. His finger was already hovering over the notebook's on-off button, when the machine made a plopping sound and a little blinking window alerted them they had just received a new message.

Guyot looked at Reynauld with his best 'what did I just do?' face.

Reynauld raised a brow.  "Aren't you going to check that?"

"Looks like a certain 'Sweetheart' has cancelled his or her appointment with our guy," Guyot said a moment later and turned the laptop so that Reynauld could see for himself.

Hey... so something came up and I'm afraid I can't make it to Jubie's tonight.  Pls don't be mad?  

Love ya, xoxo  

"Tonight," Reynauld said, giving Guyot a pointed look.

"Come on, you don't mean to – " his friend began, then shook his head.  "Of course you do.  Does 'Jubie's' even ring a bell?"

"Yeah," Reynauld replied, surprising himself and Guyot, both.  He shrugged, but the name did sound familiar.  "Open the chat log," he commanded.  

Guyot pulled up the log for the past couple of years and once it had loaded, he scrolled up a bit.  They found a blurry but recent picture that looked like it had been taken on a phone, by a very drunk person.   Despite its poor quality, it was unmistakably their guy in the parking lot of what Reynauld guessed to be a bar.  Unfortunately, the neon lights in the back were too unfocused to make out what they said.

Reynauld suddenly felt wide awake.  "Go through everything," he instructed his friend, tapping the laptop with his index finger.  "I will tell the others to get searching, now."

It may be by accident, but they were on to something.  He could feel it.

"Everything?" Guyot repeated with audible reluctance.

Reynauld nodded, and left him to gather the rest of the team for a briefing.  A while later Guyot found him in his office, pacing.

"Rey.  Marci's got something.  Jubert's Taphouse."

Of course there was a chance that it wasn't the right place, or that the message was a code for something else, but it was their only solid lead.  They had to follow it.

"What about the notebook? Reynauld wanted to know, recalling that his friend had a task to perform.

"I gave it to Ros," Guyot replied, waving the matter away.

"Excellent."  Reynauld grabbed the keys to his locker out of his desk drawer.  "Let's go."

"You want to go there?"  Guyot asked.  "Now?"  He looked at the clock.  "It's seven.  My shift's been over for an hour."

Reynauld gave him a pat on the back, which they both agreed was better than a boot in the arse, and they jogged downstairs to change into their normal day clothes.  This morning's trouble meant that they did not have to borrow an unmarked car, they could just take Reynauld's.

Jubert's taphouse was not easy to find.  It was a squat one-story pub sitting between much larger and more modern buildings.  Fifth Square was just one street in the labyrinth that was the old industrial district.   Except for some breweries and the one or other atelier most of the factories had shut down.  Now expensive loft apartments could be encountered right next to brick and glass warehouses which had been turned into clubs.

Barques were dropping people off at the nearby pier, and restaurants were popping up left and right.  Everywhere advertisements reminded you that the huge empty halls could be rented for a party.

Amidst all that, Jubert's taphouse seemed to be stuck in the last century – if one could look past the electric lighting.  Reynauld looked over at the passenger seat, where Guyot was watching the establishment with his chin propped up in his hand.

"Shall we?"

Behind the counter, a bored looking woman with too much eye makeup barely made the effort of lifting her painted eyelids when they entered.

"Where's the – ?"  Reynauld did not get any further before she pointed down the corridor.  He nodded and followed in the direction her neon orange nail pointed.  The pretext of having to use the restroom gave him the opportunity to get somewhat familiar with the layout of the bar.  The kitchen area was closed off, as was a back entrance into a high-walled courtyard.  If he had to guess, Reynauld would say it hid an illegal fighting ring.  But that wasn't why they were here.

He only had a few minutes before he had to make his way back.  The waitress was nowhere to be seen, and Guyot was waiting for him back at the car.  He remembered why the name of the bar was familiar.  Not a year ago they had taken down a drug ring just two streets further.

"Here," Guyot handed Reynauld the pack of cigs he had apparently just purchased and effectively ripped him out of his thoughts.

Reynauld stared at the small package that landed in his lap.  "I quit."

"Yeah, well."  Guyot shrugged.  "I never started, so keep them."  A moment of silence, then, "You're thinking."

"Hm?"

"You got your thinkin' face on," Guyot remarked snickered, and then added, "and nothing good's ever come of that."

"Thanks," Reynauld replied drily, but decided to share his thoughts with his best friend and partner.  "You won't like it," he decided.  

"The last time you said that we were in a stolen tank in Tipolis."

"Heh." Reynauld had to chuckle.  He might grow old and forget where he lived or what his name was, but he knew Guyot would never let him forget that.  "It wasn't so bad."

"They were firing mortars at us!"  Guyot recalled.

"Look," Reynauld interrupted the tirade that he knew was coming.  "We don't know much about Paixdecoeur, but we've seen enough to be sure of one thing: he likes men, and uniforms.  And... I still got some of my old army stuff."

"You're right," Guyot replied.  "I don't like this."  A pause, then, "Has it occurred to you that he might have downloaded this stuff just to mess with us?  That poem was no coincidence."

"No, I am utterly naive and it's never crossed my mind," Reynauld retorted.  He thought it was highly unlikely their guy had gone through all the bother of actually picking thematically matching videos just to potentially prank some law enforcement officer.

"But... why?" Guyot asked.  "Why not just... stick to the plan?"

"We don't have a plan," Reynauld reminded him.

"If that Dismas guy is there, we can arrest him straightaway," Guyot suggested.

"I don't want to find out how many of those patrons own illegal weapons," Reynauld countered, "Do you?"

He knew by the defeated sigh that he had just won the argument.  "If I can get him out without raising suspicion, I will do that.  If it doesn't work, we do it the hard way."

"So, what?  You just walk up to the guy and chat him up?"

Reynauld shrugged.  "That's usually how it goes, yeah."

"Fine!"  Guyot threw up his arms in surrender.  "Just tell me this; how do you plan to convince the Chief?"

"I... don't," Reynauld answered after a moment's consideration.  "I'll ask Mallory"

"Good fucking luck."

"Thank you," Reynauld said.  And just because it seemed necessary to point it out, "You're coming with me."

Guyot's contribution to that conversation that happened twenty minutes later, was to furiously wave his arms every time Reynauld had said 'we', whilst pointing his thumb at Reynauld, who could actually see his every move out of the corner of his eyes.

"Did I understand you correctly," Mallory clarified after Reynauld had finished describing their plan.   "That you are asking me for permission to seduce your target?"

AN: you cann find the whole story here

[housecity101]

A Wish-Granting Catastrophe

Merry Christmas, everybody!

I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday! And guess what? I have a Brothers!AU chapter for you all!

Yeah, I wanted this to arrive back in Thanksgiving, but I thought this would be a nice Christmas gift for you all! Yeah, there wasn’t that much Bros fics aside from the Chanzaria Week stuff and 19, but 19 is really important to read since that’s where everything fully continues and that there’s a nice little reference to it in this story below. I know that there’s one little thing that needs an explanation, but I’ll write a one-shot on it once I’m good.

And yeah, if this chapter’s not your thing, don’t worry, there will be more Bros to come next year. Trust me, it will be good.

One more thing, I want you to play this Gravity Falls OST during for the ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WgaJpYKFxQ 

Just do it, trust me, you’ll really understand once you read it.

And with that said, Merry Christmas everyone and I will see you then :D!

“UUUUGGH, its sooo boring!” Chansin groaned.

The youngest of the Himura brothers was laying from the side of the living room couch, not caring if his hat and slippers were on the floor. He was so bored that he didn’t even want to bother. Aside from him, the rest of the brothers were in the living room, pretty much doing some usual stuff. Gleam was watching a nature documentary on the TV, Sheen was busy reading a magazines on swords, strangely enough. And Snee? Well, he must be out there doing something.

A few seconds in, and Chansin couldn’t take it.

Raising his arms up, he started to yell. “AAAAUGH, WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO BORING ON A FRIDAY!?” Feeling a bit defeated, he deflated his arms back while folding them.

“Chansin, why don’t you be annoying somewhere else?” Sheen groaned, feeling a bit tired in wanting to beat him.

And then his brother calmly roasted him back. “Why don’t you read your porn somewhere else?” He wasn’t fooled by him really.

This caused Sheen to blush in anger. “T-THAT’S NOT TRUE!!” How did he even figure out that the sword magazine was covering the weekly Fungirl issue!?

“Calm down, you two.” Gleam said, trying to lighten up the mood. “I’m sure we’ll find something to do for the afternoon.”

“Ugh, I wish. There’s nothing else to do but just lay down on a cushion and feel depressed for the rest of your life.” Chansin moaned. “I mean, I wanna go out to the arcade, but I ran out of money, and all of my friends are out until then.”

Gleam thought for a moment as he understood him. “Well, apparently, there isn’t any more of those strange oni roaming around lately.”

“And Benkei has his own stuff to deal with.” Sheen said, feeling a little disappointed. He was looking forward to fight his rival again.

“Hm, I wonder if Snee is feeling bored lately?” Chansin questioned. “Whatever he’s doing, it’s probably something.”

Speak of the devil, Chansin heard some door being closed from the upstairs hallway as he turned his head to see Snee standing by, holding on to something. Like a map of some kind. As Snee was preparing to move forward, Chansin, out of nowhere, appears in front of him. “Hey Snee!”

Almost all of the brothers, including Gleam were in total shock from what they witnessed. Chansin was on the couch for just a second before he unexpectedly moved to another area. “W-WHA!? HOW THE HELL DID HE DO THAT!?” Sheen screamed.

Their brother must have some unusual talent.

Ignoring their shocked cries, Chansin focused on Snee holding onto the map. “Yo, Snee, what’s up? Is that a map you got there?”

Snee remained silent for a few seconds until he spoke up. “…I have this map I found yesterday when I was out with Demona and Nul…” He said, looking somewhat shaken for a bit. “It actually contains a way to search for a genie—“

He was interrupted though once Chansin screamed in joy, his eyes sparkling so brightly. “G-G-G-G-G-GENIE!?”

“Did he just said a genie!?” Sheen shouted as well, immediately getting up from his seat.

“Oh? A genie?” Gleam wondered, trying to know what’s going on.

Chansin grabbed the map from his brother’s hands as he looked at it with a wide grin. “You mean, this map here leads the way to find an ancient genie!? I-I can actually make my dreams come true!” The thought of what he wanted caused him to have yen signs in his eyes. “I could be able to win at everything~!”

“I-I could even get my own dream harem~!!” Sheen drooled while blushing, thinking about some sensual thoughts.

“And I can actually wish to befriend all of the animals.” Gleam said to himself with a smile, though the brothers can easily hear him.

The three of them all turned to their gloomy brother, who looked blank the entire time. “Snee, what are you wishing for!?” Chansin asked him, dying to know what he wants.

Snee thought for a moment. He didn’t really know what to say at this point. He mainly wanted to go on this journey alone so he can make his wish. A wish that he had longed for so long. It was best to keep it hidden for now…

“…Um…it’s rather complicated…” He finally answered, earning some weird glances from his brothers.

“Uh, you sure bro? You don’t mind telling us orrr…?” Chansin said.

Snee nodded. “Yes…”

And then Sheen started to guess, as a small blush appeared from his cheeks. “Wait, do you mean that you’re gonna wish for something you desired before…?” He then made a sly smile. “Perfect boobs from Demona~?” Now that’s something he would like to see.

But unfortunately, that would have to end once Snee remained silent and his face was fully darkened.

A minute later, the four bros packed up their things and headed out to the door to find the genie.

“Magical genie, here we come~!” Chansin said in a sing-song voice.

Gleam smiled at his enthusiasm as he looked down at the map. “Okay, I guess I can help lead the way from here!”

“That’s fine! You’re kinda better of this than I am.” The youngest said sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, there’s no need to say that! Oh, is Sheen doing fine as well?”

“Yeah, he’s going great, right Snee?”

Snee nodded silently.

And behind him was a bruised up Sheen, having complete bumps on his face. “I said that I was sorry, Snee! Jesus!”

The way to find the genie was an okay start so far. Their first stop was climbing up to the valley, a pretty familiar spot in Sheen’s eyes. This is mainly where Benkei was living somewhere. While climbing up the steep floor, they hear a familiar voice, once that Sheen instantly scowled at.

“Ah! Good day to you, Himuras!”

They all turn to Benkei from their right, who was outside from his hut grilling some mackerel. “Oh, hello, Benkei!” Gleam waved at him. “Nice to see you again!”

“If I may ask, what are you four heading anyway?” Benkei asked them.

As usual, Sheen answered him rather rudely. “None of your goddamn business!”

“We’re heading out to find a magical genie.” Chansin said nonchalantly.

“CHANSIN, YOU JERK!!” Sheen screamed as he punched him in the head. But for some reason, Chansin didn’t felt any pain at all. “W-wha?” He blinked in surprise.

“A genie?” Benkei said, a bit surprised. “I knew that this world was always filled with such wonder. I have never seen one before.”

Gleam smiled. “I actually thought of that too! It was quite surprising really! Oh, do you like to come with us, Benkei?”

“N-nii-san, no!” Sheen whispered through his teeth.

“Yeah Ben, you should join us!” Chansin said. “You can wish for whatever you want!”

“Chansin!” Sheen hissed.

Benkei thought for a moment before making a soft smile. Although he does wish on having something he desperately needs, it’s best to just let it go. “It’s fine, really. You all can go ahead without me.”

Before Chansin can respond, Sheen then spoke up. “That’s fine by me, because I’ll be making a wish that you’ll be ten times jealous over, ya closet freak!”

“Sheen!” Gleam chided at him.

“Oh yeah!? Well I hope that your wish will end up in failure, you perverted moron!!” Benkei shouted at Sheen, already pissed enough.

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PERVERT, YOU STUPID MONK!!?”

“SAY THAT AGAIN, YOU DEMON BASTARD!!”

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU CALLED ME A DEMON!?”

Chansin ended the fight by grabbing Sheen by his shoulder. “Alright, you two can kiss and make up later, right now we got a genie to find!”

“Wait, what the hell you mean kiss!? I told you a million times it’s not like tha—ACK!” Sheen yelled at him before he winced at his brother grabbing his shoulder too hard.

After saying their quick apologies to Benkei, they said farewell and continued off on their journey.

Once they left, Benkei sighed. Maybe it was best to not join them after all.

The journey to find this so-called magical genie wasn’t that much of a hassle for the Brothers. They walked pass the strangely-large forest, while taking a detour on some hills. What’s even surprising that there wasn’t any oni nearby at all. This made Gleam become a little suspicious, but he’ll think about it later…

Finally, they soon climbed up an odd-looking magenta colored mountain, where they finally made it to the top. And in front of them was the entrance, which contained two huge double doors.

“Oh, thank god!” Chansin cheered, taking some time to breathe. “We finally made it!”

“YES!!” Sheen cheered. “NOW I CAN FINALLY AWAIT MY DREAM HAREM!!” He then made a quick pace for the doors before being stopped by Snee. “Wha!? The hell, Snee!?”

Ignoring his banter, Snee spoke up while staring at the entrance. “…We can’t enter yet. In order to do so, you have to figure out some sort of secret password…” He explained.

“A secret password?” Gleam repeated. “But that’s impossible. How can we say the password if we don’t know what it is?”

Chansin thought of an idea before slapping his fist into his hand. “Bingo! I got this!” He then walked forward to the entrance before warming up his hands. He raised them up for at least a few seconds before shouting. “OPEN SESAME!”

A few seconds in, and there was only silence.

Sheen scoffed. “Heh, that was nothi—“

Suddenly, the four of them felt a loud rumble from inside the mountain as the double doors were open instantly, shocking all of them except for Chansin.

“Ha! I knew it worked!” He grinned as he entered inside nonchalantly. “C-mon, it’s time we meet this genie guy!”

“I’m so proud of you, Ototo!” Gleam smiled as he entered the cave along with Snee.

The only one who was still outside was Sheen, who was still baffled by what just happened. “Oh come on!” He groaned as he follow them in.

Teleporting like mad, being stronger than iron, and now this. How is his little brother so talented lately?

They then walked deep into some sort of cave. It’s wasn’t really that dark, due to a few glowing lanterns hanging from the walls. And the small drips of water drops makes this scenario feel a little creepy.

“It feels a little unsetting in here…” Gleam said softly, the atmosphere making him feel uncomfortable. “Are you this is where the genie resides?”

“It has to be…” Snee murmured, looking at the map. “It should be the exact location…”

“I dunno man, you think you got the wrong map?” Chansin asked. “I mean were only in a dead-end cavern. No genie here.”

Sheen then groaned. “Oh great! Just fucking great! There’s no genie! Well, this was a waste of time, I’m going back h—AAAAH!!” He was then interrupted when he stepped into a broken hole in the floor, causing him to fall in.

“SHEEN!!” The brother screamed as they all try and help him back up. Unfortunately, more of the floor was decreasing by the minute as all four of them fall into darkness…

A pair of eyes slowly opened as Chansin murmured softly, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh good lord, the hell did this happened…?” His eyes then widened. “O-oh shit! Guys!!” He then got up, not caring if he was internally bleeding or anything. He needed to find his brothers. “Sheen, Snee, Gleam!?”

“Little brother, were right here!” A voice called out.

Once Chansin spotted the rest of his brothers healing themselves from the fall, he sighed in relief. “Oh thank god!” To keep him from worrying further, he gave them all a small hug. “I thought I was a goner!”

The three brothers all felt warmth from that small hug, how can they not resist? They hugged him back either way. After the whole fiasco from Chansin’s last day of being 18, they each promised each other that they will respect Chansin even more, especially if Sheen acted like a bit of a tsundere.

Their sweet moment became short however, as they suddenly heard some strange noises.

“W-what was that?” Chansin wondered.

“Is it some kind of oni?” Gleam said, making sure to hold on to his sword if anything.

The noises became a bit clearer as some echoes were heard, more like some strange moaning.

“I think it’s coming from down there!” Sheen said pointing to the mysterious light from down below.

Gleam was becoming a little worried. “It has to be an oni!”

“…It must be something else…” Snee said.

“Alright, let’s go check it out.” Chansin said.

They all agreed as they slowly walked down to find the source of the noise. The moaning was getting more louder as they try to figure out what it could possibly be. Once they made it over to the light, it appeared to be an entrance to something. They walked in as they all gasped at what they saw.

The four of them ended up in an entire room filled with many treasures. Gold, diamonds, jewels of all kinds. And then there were the unusual items scattered around, like a flat screen TV, a laptop, and some weird water bed.

But what surprised them the most was someone floating under the strange gold pile. It was a girl, with light skin, pointy ears and silver eyes. She had long, magenta hair that was wrapped in a ponytail while leaving a few strands in the front. A genie outfit which contained the colors of pink, red, and yellow, consisting of baggy pants, a tube top, and a poncho-like jacket.

And she appears to be groaning while playing a handheld video game, laying on her back lazily.

“Ugh, c’mon.” She moaned. “Why is like, this level so freaking hard?”

“Woah, I can’t believe it!” Chansin said. “It’s actually the genie!”

“But she’s a girl?” Gleam said.

As on cue, Sheen made a dopey smile looking at her while blushing. “She’s a beautiful woman~!”

Suddenly, they watched the genie girl picking her nose while playing her game. And then she ate her booger without noticing, making the brothers feel disgusted, including Snee.

“Uh, you might rephrase that, Sheen.” Chansin squeaked, trying not to vomit.

The genie girl stopped her game once she notices them. “Ugh, of geez, it’s been 1,800 years and I have some new intruders.” She groaned. “Alright fine…” She then cleared her throat. “Greetings, I am Evelyn, the magic genie of wisdom—okay so what do you wa—“

“A-are you really a magical genie!?” Chansin squealed.

“Who truly grants wishes!?” Sheen did the same as well, but this time, he was almost in a nosebleed when awaiting his wish.

“Ughhh, nope nope, nopity nope.” Evelyn said. “Listen you weird looking men, I’m sorry to say this, but, I don’t grant wishes anymore.”

“WHAT!?” The brothers said, while Snee gave out a flat “Huh?”

“Yeeah, you see, like, I don’t really do the whole make your dreams come true thing, because I ran out of juice or something like that.” She explained, before motioning her hand at them. “Now shoo, skedaddle, and never return or some phrase whatever.” Evelyn then returned to play her game.

“Hold up! What do you mean you can’t do it anymore!?” Chansin demanded, feeling slightly pissed. “You mean to tell us that you actually ran out of wishes!?”

“He’s right!” Sheen growled. “I actually wished for a full-on harem and yet you ripped us off!!”

“Okay jeez, calm your little nut, man!” Evelyn said. “Let me explain!”

Sheen was about to continue until he realized what she meant by ‘little nut’. “Little nut…?” Blushing like mad, he fainted on the floor. “L-little nut? Little n-nut…”

Ignoring their brother’s perverted thoughts, they all focuses on Evelyn, who was about to explain her dilemma.

“Okay, so how can I explain this?” Evelyn said. “So like, 1,800 years ago, I used to be this well-known genie in a faraway village. Everybody kept on coming to me, wanting their wish so I was like ‘Alright man’ and boom, everyone was happy. So one day, as I was helping some guy grant his wish in running a cabbage store, my wishing stopped. I wasn’t able to grant any more wishes. The people got pissed at me so they chased me out. The only place I can hide was in some sort of secret cavern, and I stayed there ever since.”

“So that’s what happened, huh?” Chansin understood.

“But, that means our wishes can’t be granted?” Gleam said, feeling a little down that his wish won’t come true.

“Uhhh, hold one, there is one thing though, let me find it.” Evelyn searched through her gold pile until he found the item she was looking for. “Okay, here it is.” She showed them a small rock, which had the color of pure gold.

“Oooh, what is it?” The brothers asked in unison.

“This is like, a wishing rock.” Evelyn explained. “Genies used these cheap crap whenever they run out of power or something. I found this while in my cavern. It’s apparently the last one to find. You can use this though.”

“Aw sweet!” Chansin grinned. “How many wishes does it contain!?”

“Only 15.”

“15 WISHES!?” Chansin, Sheen, and Gleam said.

“Yeah, only 15. But by the time the wishes are out, the rock will shatter and you can’t wish for anything again.”

“…Can we wish for infinite wishes?” Chansin asked.

“No you can’t!” Evelyn grunted. “There is no such thing as infinite wishes! Genies can’t be able to do that, especially wishing rocks!”

“Oh man! Ah well, 15 is good enough!” Chansin then grinned. “Now gimme gimme gimme~!”

“Ugh, alright. Here you go.” Evelyn threw the rock at him.

Chansin cheered in delight once he received the rock. “Swee—GAH!!” He was then pushed aside by Sheen, who took the rock for himself.

“FINALLY!! The rock is mine!” Sheen grinned before being bonked in the head by Chansin.

“You jerk, don’t just grab it from me like that!” He growled at him.

“No way, your wish will be lazy than mines!”

“NO YOURS IS!”

Before their fighting can escalate further, Gleam interrupted them. “Hold on, Sheen! Let’s at least go by order, youngest to oldest! Chansin can go first!”

“Ugh, fine.” Sheen groaned before handing Chansin the rock. “But make it quick!”

“Cool it, give me some time.” Chansin then smiled wilder than he was as a toddler once he stared at the rock. “Oh magical wishing rock, I wish that I can be able to win at everything!”

The rock started to glow so bright, all four of the brothers gasp in awe of what is happening. Except for Evelyn, who was too busy focusing on her game. Once the rock shined…nothing happened.

Chansin blinked. “…Nani?”

“It…it didn’t happen?” Gleam spoke up.

Snee was a bit surprised. The rock was supposed to work, did it not?

“How is that possible!? I swear if this is a rip off, I’ll—“ Sheen was this close to snapping until Chansin stopped him.

“Hold on, Sheen, I want to prove it first.” His brother said calmly. “How about we play some rock paper scissors, since I always lose in that game?”

Sheen looked at him for a second before sighing. “Fine. But if you lose then we’ve been conned.”

“I heard that, you know.” Evelyn called out.

“OH SHUT UP!!” Sheen yelled at her. Screw her being beautiful, she’s just nothing but a disgusting broad.

The two brothers set their fists, ready to see who will be able to set it off first. “Rock paper scissors says shoot!” They both said as they unleashed what they have chosen.

Sheen was rock.

Chansin was paper.

…And both of their expressions went wild.

“HOLY FUUUUUUUCK!!” Chansin screamed at the top of his lungs.

“N-n-n-n-no way…” Sheen lost his breath, he couldn’t say anything else.

They both tried again, this time Sheen was scissors and Chansin was rock. Another round, Sheen was paper, Chansin was scissors. And again, and again, and again. He even challenged Gleam and Snee to other games as well, even borrowing Evelyn’s game controller to beat a round for her.

This caused Chansin to smile in pure joy. He hadn’t experience such greatness since his adventure at the Tierra Suerte. Or even his birthdays for that matter, where he is able to win at everything for that day only. But now he wished it, he can be able to win, no stopping.

“Yes! It did came true!!” Chansin said. “My wish finally came true!”

“Ah, I am so proud of you, Chansin.” Gleam’s smile brightened. He had never seen him so happy his entire life.

Snee can’t help but smile a little of his brother’s kooky accomplishments. He was at least glad for him, seeing how he was so happy back at the Tierra Suerte. Now all he has to do is to keep him from being wet.

The only one who was annoyed was Sheen, who grabbed the rock away from Chansin. “Alright, alright, fun time’s over!” He then blushed while almost getting a nosebleed. “Now it’s time for my wish~!!”

Chansin rolled his eyes. “Aw geez…”

Without any hesitation, Sheen finally said his wish. “I wish for—“

“Hold on, Sheen.”

Sheen made a wild glare at Chansin. “OH WHAT NOW!?”

“Shouldn’t you wish for something less obvious?” Chansin asked him. “You know, like more biceps or something?”

“…W-well, I…” Sheen thought for a moment before responding, his cheeks having a light shade of red. “I always wanted to have a nice set of hair.”

Chansin smiled. “Well, why not wish for it then?”

“Um, alright?” Sheen then focused on the rock. “I wish that I-I had a full set of beautiful hair!”

The rock started to glow instantly, as it was illuminated into a golden light and engulfed Sheen with it. Once it died down, everyone gasped at what they were seeing.

Sheen was just standing there until his hat fell down into the floor, revealing large threads of thick, flowing black hair. It kept growing and growing until it reached down to his calves. It was finally finished and the erotic swordsman’s hair was shining brightly as ever, nearly blinding his brothers. Well, except for Snee, who was shouting in pain over the light.

“Woah, it really worked!” Chansin cried.

“Simply amazing!” Gleam smiled.

Snee was on the floor, making small hisses over what just happened to him.

After slowly touching his new hair so softly, all Sheen could do was laugh in amusement. “Ha! I knew it wasn’t a trick! It’s actually real! Oh wait...” He then took off everything that was covering his chest, his scarf, his white top, and even his loincloths, revealing his abs and biceps. “Now I look better~.” He said, almost smitten with himself.

“Okay, we get it, you’re in love with yourself.” Chansin said sarcastically. “Now wish for your dream harem so Snee and Gleam can get a turn.”

“Okay, don’t rush me!” Sheen growled at him, before smiling again. “I wish that I have my own harem of hot girls~!!”

The rock glowed as Sheen’s wish was granted. Suddenly, they heard echoes of feminine giggling from the back of the entrance.

Chansin and even Snee then made a rather familiar glare at Sheen. “IF ANY OF THOSE GIRLS ARE OUR GIRLFRIENDS, WE’RE GONNA KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS!!”

Snee didn’t say anything. Pulling out his blade made it clear to Sheen what he meant by that.

But thankfully, it wasn’t their girlfriends, rather a bunch a humanoid ladies. Some of them in regular clothing, while others in rather sensual dresses and swimwear. Sheen was being embraced by them, a few of their chests smooshing against his face.

“It’s Sheen! It’s really him!”

“One of those really cute Himura boys!”

“OMG, is that hair? It looks so cute~!”

All Sheen could do was made the happiest expression he could ever make while making a nosebleed. “Hallelujah~!!”

The rest of the brothers’ reactions were as expected. Gleam was pretty embarrassed by what he just witnessed, but made a nice giggle. Chansin and Snee on the other hand just groaned in annoyance.

While he was distracted, Chansin took the rock from him and gave it to Gleam. “Three wishes down, 12 more to go. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Ototo!” Gleam thanked him. “I wish that, um…” He blushed a little. “I wish that I can befriend all of the animals!”

“O-oh…?” Chansin took a wild take at what he just said.

The rock glowed once again and now Gleam’s wish was granted. Suddenly, a while glow appeared as a group of animals arrived and tackled Gleam to cuddle him. Elephants, zebras, little kittens, and other cute animals all started to adore him, making Gleam happy.

Everyone sweat-dropped at what they were seeing. “Woah Aniki, I’m glad you got your wish but I really didn’t expect that!” Chansin laughed nervously.

Sheen was too busy though as he was enjoying being worshipped by his newly-wished harem.

Gleam then gave Snee the rock. “Here you go, Snee! It’s all yours!”

Once he was handed the rock, Snee just stared at it. He of course wasn’t has excited as his brothers were, but he felt at least glad at what he wanted. He prepared to grant his wish, but since his brothers were there with him, he instead whispered what he wanted to the rock. It actually only took about at least 50 seconds, and the brothers were in silence. They didn’t even know what he was saying, but whatever it was, it might be interesting.

The rock glowed once again and nothing appeared this time.

Feeling confused, Chansin walked up to him. “Woah Snee, what did you wished you anyway? Do you mind telling us?”

Again, Snee said the same answer. “…Again, it’s rather complicated…”

Since he’s the only one who completely understands about Snee’s weird and odd behavior, Chansin nodded with a weak smile and let it go. Gleam nodded as well, but Sheen was still confused. He probably wished something really perverted…

“Okay, so like, not to ruin your sappy moment here, but you all can leave now.” Evelyn spoke up out of nowhere. “Like now.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ll leave you alone and let you fat yourself with those snacks of yours!” Sheen hissed at her. “But thanks anyway! We have our wishes now!”

“Let’s go!” Chansin cheered as he and his brothers exited the cave.

Once they were gone, Evelyn groaned. “Next time, new security system I swear.”

Once they returned back to their neighborhood, each of them decided to go on their separate ways until later so they can spend some time enjoying their wishes being granted. Snee kept the wishing rock in his possession in case anything bad happens to it.

Chansin walked his way to the local pachinko arcade, wearing his new unusual style of clothing. A nice black suit with a red tie and some golden cufflinks. He even wore a small grey coat and a dark red fedora. It instantly brings him back for when he entered the Tierra Suerte’s casino in disguise. Oh how he smiled every time he thought of that memory.

He slammed the doors open with his foot as it was less crowded this time around. It only consists of a few familiar Yo-Kai civilians inside along with the coworker he knows before. Akane, who was busy lazing on the counter reading a fashion magazine.

“Goooood afternoon, Akane~!” He said in a sing-song voice, approaching her with a grin.

Akane noticed him once she raised her magazine and laughed a bit nazily. “Ha ha ha!” She snorted. “Why are you dressed like that, unlucky boob? Fancying up yourself for the losers club?” She snorted again.

Chansin rolled his eyes. She would always laugh at her own jokes. “Actually, I came here to score this time. I got some of my money with me~.”

Akane snorted. “Fine, but good luck loosing for the umpteenth time.” She laughed before choking on her own spit. “Aw fuck, my throat!” She then fell on the floor. “Double fuck!”

After getting everything set up, Chansin started with the usual slots. Since it’s obvious he would win anyway, he pulled down the lever and gotten an instant win after getting three cherries. Almost everyone in the arcade stopped what they’re doing and immediately turned to Chansin with a gasp. Even Akane got up and witnessed what she was seeing.

“H-holy cra—ACK!” Akane tripped again on the floor from her magazine. “Triple fuck!”

“No way! A-am I actually seeing this!?”

“Did that loser Himura actually won!?”

“That can’t be possible! I thought it was proven that he would never win!?”

The crown kept watching as Chansin pushed all boundaries and kept beating at every game. The more he was winning, the more he was gaining some praises and cheers. The result of this made Chansin the king and everyone else who lost, the losers.

“Ahahaha, this is so great! I enjoy being lucky~!!” Chansin squealed. “I think I almost caaaame!”

Meanwhile, from right next door to the arcade, we enter the city’s local spa where a certain rich kitsune was being massaged by his loyal masseuse. The noise from the arcade was frustrating him further as he started to growl.

“Ugh, this annoying noise. Where in the world is it coming from?” He sneered. “I swear, it’s almost giving me a migraine.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do anything, Mr. Kyubi. I’ve gotten some info that some boy by the name of Chansin Himura has won at almost every game there. They say that he’s extremely lucky as they say.”

Kyubi widened his eyes over the mention of that name. “Himura, you say? Heh, as if. He’s just nothing but a loser…”

“Well sir, he is on the news right now.”

“What!?” Kyubi screamed as he couldn’t believe what he was watching right now.

On the TV was Chansin, a considerable nuisance to him, actually looking very popular at the moment. He looked so classy and refined, and yet, Casanuva, one of his best frenemies was looking a lot less charming than him. Kyubi was slowly feeling the burning rage of envy inside of him, but stayed rather calm over the whole ordeal.

“One moment please.” Kyubi said as he grabbed his cellphone and dialed his butler. “Sebastian, it’s me, Kyubi. Drop me off in at least 30 minutes, I have something to deal with!”

“But Master Kyubi, I’m afraid that I’m a bit busy at the moment. I and dealing with such untidiness at the master library. Oh, it’s simply not perfect eno—“

“I do not care about your perfectionism, just come here right now OR YOUR FIRED!!”

“Y-yes, Master Kyubi!”

After turning off his phone, Kyubi stared at the screen in pure anger. “I’m coming for you, Himura…”

Later on at night, Chansin returned back to his house after escaping many news reporters and paparazzi about his big event at the arcade. Once he opened the door, he was greeted by many dogs, cats, and horses tackling him to lick his face affectionately.

“Aww, cute!” He laughed, trying to break free. “Hey there!”

“Chansin!” Gleam came in, wearing a cooking apron. “I’m glad you came back! Me and my new animal friends helped made a nice big feast for dinner!”

A large elephant carried Chansin by its trunk and set him gently inside. “Aw cool, you really made all of this!?” He smiled in delight, almost drooling over the delicacies before him.

“That’s right!” His older brother smiled warmly. “It was so much easier with these sweet babies helping me out!” he cooed while cuddling his elephant.

me out!” he cooed while cuddling his elephant.

“That’s cool!”

Suddenly, the two brothers heard some giggling and moaning from inside Sheen’s room. They could only guess what that meant. The door was kicked open as Sheen appeared, coming out of his room looking all dopey and giggly.

“Sheen, come back quick! We have more surprises for you~!”

“And we also have another movie to watch together~!”

“T-that’s great, my ladies~…” Sheen stuttered, completely too happy to say anything. “I’ll be right there sooooon~!”

Chansin and Gleam took a wild take at what happened to their perverted brother. “Woah, Sheen!” They both shrieked.

Sheen was looking too happy, trying to stand up as if he was drunk. All he was wearing was his blue robe and boxers, which were almost revealing his bare chest. His long flowing black hair was rather messy and nearly covered half of his eyes. He also has kiss marks all over his face and fewer parts of his body. His neck and chest even has a few small hickeys as well.

“W-wow, Sheen.” Chansin murmured, trying to compress what he just witnessed. “You must’ve gotten some fun in there, huh?”

Gleam couldn’t even say a word as his entire body was this close to fade to red. He was immediately able to realize what just occurred, even faster than Chansin. He made small, little murmurs while closing his mouth with his hands.

“Oh? Nii-san?” Sheen finally got out of his love-crazed daze and focused on Gleam. “Are you feeling okay?” He asked, a little worriedly.

“U-u-um, Sheen? Before you go to back to your room, m-make sure to wear something safe, okay…?” His older brother squeaked, still shaking.

Chansin nearly winced over what he said. Now he understood how Gleam feels. Sheen only took a few seconds to guess as to what he meant until he blushed in embarrassment.

“W-w-w-woah now, Nii-san! I did, really!” Sheen exclaimed. “I didn’t really went that far!” he then started to smile. “I have managed to make myself virgin free for only ten ti—“

“OKAY, DINNER’S READY!” Gleam then shouted out of nowhere, his body now fully red. “LET’S GET OURSELVES SETTLED IN, SHALL WE!?” He then ran down to the kitchen as he washed his face with cold water, crying in agony.

Chansin then turned to Sheen with a tired glare. “Oh nice going Sheen, you broke Gleam.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault really!” Sheen argued.

Right before the two of them would continue, Snee simply floated down the stairs, acting completely normal. Chansin turned to him with a small smile. “Oh hey, Snee. How’s your wish doing?”

Snee just looked at him for a few seconds before responding. “…It’s good.”

“Seriously, what did you wished for anyway?” Sheen said suspiciously.

“…Again, it’s complicated.” He answered again.

“Hold on, don’t tell me! You really wished for Demona to have large—“ Sheen grinned, feeling a little excited.

CLANG!

Snee then walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll go eat now…” He then turned to Gleam, who was rubbing his face with the pipe water rather roughly. “…Gleam, are you alright?”

Gleam made his signature smile, despite his face having a few red marks from the rubbings. “Oh its fine, my dear brother, nothing at all!”

Snee felt a little disturbed at his face. Maybe something happened while he was out?

“Yeah, dinnertime!” Chansin cheered as he entered the kitchen as well, carrying a bruised up Sheen with him.

After finally calming Gleam down, and fixing Sheen’s bruises, the four brothers sat down on the table and ate the delicious dinner Gleam and his new animal friends made for them. The only one who wasn’t with them was Sheen, who ate his dinner back at his room along with his harem.

“Mmm~! Gleam, that was so good!” Chansin said.

“Why thank you, Ototo!” Gleam smiled at his compliment. “We did all of our hard work into it!”

Snee was busy eating his food calmly like he normally does as one of the monkeys snatches his tempura. He gave the monkey a look before it smiled at him. These wishes were getting weirder by the minute. Then again, his wish was more interesting than the others.

When dinner was over, the brothers then decide to spend the rest of the afternoon talking about their newfound wishes together. Sheen instead decides to head back to his female harem, much to Gleam’s dismay but accepts it either way. Although, Snee warned him not to touch the wishing rock, as he is in control of protecting it.

“And then, I received so much money that the mayor of the city would even lend me most of the money from his vault!” Chansin cheered, his smile beaming as ever. “This wish for luck thing is actually freaking useful! Nothing bad happened to me all day!”

“That is good, Chansin, but um,” Gleam then sweatdropped. “Aren’t you taking this thing a bit too far?”

Chansin looked at him for a few seconds before fanning him, “Nah! I’m sure it’s cool! We might be able to become millionaires soon!”

His older brother smiled back. “Ah, I guess that will be good. I’m still not so sure about being such a wealthy person…” Gleam laughed nervously.

“But I must ask though, what should we do with the rock now that we have our wishes?”

“We should probably return it to Evelyn soon…” Snee suggested. “I don’t think we need to wish for anything else…”

“I guess that’s true.” Chansin said, although he did want to wish for something even wilder.

Before their conversation would continue, the trio heard a small bang not from Sheen’s room but from Snee’s. “Woah, what was that?” Chansin wondered as he turned to Snee.

He could see the near-surprised look on his face. Chansin hasn’t really seen him like this before. Snee then got up from his seat, his large hat darkening his eyes completely. “…I have to go.” And with that, he floated up to his room.

“What was that all about?” Gleam asked, feeling slightly worried. “Should we go follow him!?”

“Eh, it’s alright, Aniki. Snee’s just well…Snee, y’know?” Chansin said. “I’ve seen him deal with weird crap before! He can handle it!”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” The youngest of the brothers called out as he walked to the door and opened it.

Right by the front entrance was an elderly Yo-Kai with grey skin, a purple suit, some white grey hair and mustache. He made a polite bow to Chansin before responding. “Good evening to you, good sir. My name is Sebastian, and I believe that my master has said that he wanted to see y—”

“Get out of my way, Sebastian!” A familiar voice hollered as Sebastian was kicked away into the front lawn. “I told you that I will deal with him personally!”

“A-apologies, Master Kyubi…” Sebastian winced as he tried to get up.

Feeling pity for him, Chansin reached out and helped the Yo-Kai butler back up. “Hey guy, what’s even your dea—” He yelled at the figure before realizing who it was. “…Aw, fuck me…” He groaned.

“Well, we meet again, Himura.” The voice said again as Kyubi appeared, slightly floating up with his arms crossed.

“Oh geez, I don’t wanna be bothered by you again, man!” Chansin said, rubbing his eyelids. “Alright, what do you want now, Kyubi? To steal my money? Because I’m really busy right now!”

“Although that is a nice idea, I didn’t come here for that.” Kyubi said as he entered the house. “I am here to ask you something that has made me feel, rather disgusted…”

Gleam noticed the rich kitsune coming inside his house as he slowly made a glare. He recalled Snee telling him personally about what happened at his last birthday. He was the same person who brutally ruined Chansin’s gift for Snee. He responded that he will hope to have a word with him about this, and yet, here he was…

“It’s you.” He said sternly, not taking his eyes away from him. “Kyubi, wasn’t it? You are the one who hurt my little brother’s feelings, did you?”

Kyubi was confused as to what he meant. “Huh? How did you know about that? Unless…” He then froze in place once he spotted Snee coming downstairs. “Ack! It’s the creepy one!”

Snee at first wanted to reach for his sword and slay him then and there, but then again, his strength needed to be saved. However, him making his powerful death glare was enough to send him in utter defeat. “…You have ten seconds to answer why you’re here…” He said in a rather deep but threatening tone.

Chansin looked at Snee and Gleam surprised. He never expected them to be angered at his enemy like that. He immediately realized that Snee told Gleam everything last time. Feeling more confident now, he then turned to Kyubi. “Yeah man, just tell us why so we won’t need to be annoyed by you for the next two hours!”

“Well, apparently, I heard some news reports that there was a Yo-Kai who was able to win at every game at the local arcade.” Kyubi explained, trying to at least be brave. “I wanted to know who was the one who stole my title of the most popular Yo-Kai in town.” He then moved up to Chansin, facing him with his glare. “Until I heard about you…”

Chansin smirked. “Heh, so you heard, huh? Yeah, it’s a pretty neat talent of mine. I just became a winner like pure magic.”

“But that’s not even possible!” Kyubi hissed. “How can you even possess such an ability when it can’t actually happen!”

“Well, it just came to me, that’s all!” Chansin stuttered.

This was making him and his brothers feel nervous about the whole ordeal. If they even reveal the rock to Kyubi, trouble might happen.

And indeed, it does.

“Hey Snee, I’m gonna borrow the rock just for a sec! Don’t pester me and my harem for the night!”

Everyone turned to see Sheen upstairs just leaving Snee’s room with the rock on his right hand. He stopped to see everyone looking at him as the entire room became silent. The four brothers could only shiver in fear as to what is happening.

Kyubi blinked for a moment. “What did he just say?”

“Sheen, you fucking idiot!” Chansin gritted through his teeth. He then laughed nervously. “Eheh, no way, he didn’t mean it like that!”

“He just said, “wishing rock”!” Kyubi cried. “Is that how you’ve gotten so popular!? How you gotten all of these animals as your pets!?”

“Well technically, their mi—” Gleam spoke up but Kyubi interrupted him.

“How you’ve gotten all of this cool stuff!?” Kyubi then made a smile. But it wasn’t just any smile, it was the smile of pure evil. Well, in Chansin’s eyes. “I want that rock for a sec. I just want to see if it is magical as your brother says it is…”

Chansin and the rest of his brothers went into a guarding stance. They did not want to use their swords for this, rather using their own fists would be more acceptable for this moment.

“Ha! As if you’ll get that rock!” Chansin grinned. “There’s only us four awesomely tough dudes, and only you!”

But then, Kyubi chuckled lightly as he teleported out of his spot and appeared right before Sheen. He grabbed the wishing rock right out of his hands as he looked at it in pure awe. Its golden color was shining so brightly, he needed this for himself.

“Ah, so this is the wishing rock you were talking about.” Kyubi chuckled. “How amusing. I believe that this may be time for a little test…” He soon turned to Sebastian, who was busy fixing the coffee table. He then gave him a rather creepy smile.

“M-Master Kyubi?” His butler croaked.

His master chuckled for a bit before responding. “I wish that you would shut up for at least once.”

The rock had started to glow as Sebastian’s mouth was shining. His mouth was completely torn off in a brutal fashion, scaring everyone, especially Kyubi. The poor butler made noises out of fear, but wasn’t able to speak. he then floated out of the house as Kyubi stared at the rock once more.

“I-I don’t believe it....” He then made a grin. “it does work after all!” He cheered, laughing manically.  “And now for my next wish!”

Chansin, while feeling scared about this ordeal, laughed a little. “W-well, what are you wishing you, huh?” He attempted to mock him, but it wasn’t strong enough.

The kitsune gave him another creepy grin. “I wish that I was the most strongest Yo-Kai ever!”

All four of the brothers gasp at this response as the rock glowed, and Kyubi was engulfed in a orb of bright light. They could hear loud moans and screeching from him until he was finally transformed into something rather surprising. Kyubi was changed into his new form. Hos body was bulkier, his hairs was grown even longer, and even his teeth and claws were sharper. Looking at himself from a mirror, he could only make a distorted laugh.

“Impressive! I am now the most powerful Yo-Kai who ever lived!” He laughed again. “And now, for my next wi—”

Before Kyubi could make the next move, a large orb of ember appeared and burned his hand containing the stone as he dropped it to the floor. He turned to see that Chansin was the one who did it, pulling out his sword as his brothers did the same as well.

“We’re not gonna let you make another wish!” Chansin said, giving him a cold hard look.

Kyubi growled at him. “You will not interfere with my plan!” And with that, he lunged at him.

Gleam and Snee attempted to protect Chansin, but their younger brother had enough strength to block Kyubi with his sword. However, his sword was covered by his scabbard this time. "Guys, don't try and hurt him! Just knock him out and take back the stone from him!" He told them.

The three brothers nodded as they try and distract Kyubi. Unfortunately for them, they were no match for Kyubi's newfound power. The kitsune layed down some nasty slashes at Gleam with his claws, and nearly burned Sheen with his fire ability. Snee, despite not having enough energy, was still able to pin down on Kyubi with his sword. While trying to keep him at bay, he was unaware of a large tail swacking him down. Once they were all down, Kyubi had his paws on the stone once again.

"Ha, did you really think that you would beat me!?" Kyubi scoffed. "I am far more stronger than you four fools even were! And now for my next wish!" He then turned to the rock. "I wish that I have my own harem!"

Sheen gasped in horror. "NO!"

And sadly, his nightmare came true, as his harem ran out of his room and cornered Kyubi with affection.

"OMG, is that Kyubi!?"

"He looks so sexy now!"

"I want to be inside him forever!"

All Sheen could do was sob into tears by seeing this. Chansin comforted him a little, helping him wipe his eyes and fix his hair. "MY BEAUTIFUL HAREM!!" He sobbed loudly.

Kyubi laughed at his misery while being smothered by his admirers kisses and cleavage. "Oh? So they were your admirers? Why I am so sorry about that!" He said sarcastically. "I guess they found someone who is more valuable than you." "SHUT UP!!"

"And now, I suppose that this place needs a little fixing up to do!" Kyubi then thought of something. "Oh I know! I wish that this lousy house became my own palace!"

The Himura brothers' eyes widened when he heard him said this. "NO!" They all screamed, except for Snee, who gasped at what just happened.

The ground slowly started to tremble as the entire house was shaking. The brothers immediately escaped the house, not even bothering to get the last of their cherished items. They all watched as their entire house was formed into a large palace, big enough to cover their entire area since they live close to the woods. The palace resembled a Japanese temple, complete with the colors of gold, black, and purple. It even has a few landscapes filled with sakura trees and small lakes.

"What the!?" Chansin shrieked, his eyes popping out. "H-he turned our house into a fucking castle!? How egotistical is that guy!?"

"All of our stuff must be gone!" Sheen growled. "God dammit!"

Gleam turned to Snee. "Snee, how many wishes does the rock have left?"

Snee's face darkened a little once he answered. "Only one…"

"ONLY ONE!?" The three brothers repeated."B-but how!?" Chansin said. "We only had 15 wishes and we wished for five! How could they run out so fast!?"

After answering that question, the youngest and the rest of the bros turned to Snee, giving him a "Really?" look. Snee just stared at them for a few seconds before sweatdropping. "...I have my ways…"That was all he could say.

"But this is bad! If Kyubi makes one more wish, then the rock will have no wishes left! Hell, Evelyn won't be able to change everything back!" Chansin realized. "We have to get that rock back and wish for things to return to normal!"

"He's right! There's no time left!" Gleam agreed.

"B-but what about my hare—"

"WE HAVE NO GODDAMN TIME!" Chansin hissed.

"But how will we be able to reach there in time!?" Gleam panicked. "The castle is to high up!"

Snee then had an idea. "...I could try floating us there. But it might not be enough.”

"Can you teleport us there?" Chansin asked him.

"Although I cannot make it that far inside the castle, I can only be able to teleport close to it."

"Fair enough! Now let's go!"

Everyone huddled onto Snee as they were teleported up to where the castle was. They soon landed on a small platform, where they see a few more of them broken apart from the castle's landscape.

"We’re almost there!" Chansin said.

But before they could do anything, a large arrow landed near them. They looked up to see a bunch of guards appearing from the castle, shooting many arrows and shurikens at them.

"It's an ambush! Try and dodge them!" Chansin cried out.

The brothers tried their best to slash off the arrows along with swacking off a few of the guards. But it still wasn't enough to keep them at bay.

"There's too many! We can't make it!" Gleam said worriedly.

But then, Sheen came up with something. "Wait a minute! Everyone, hold on to me tight!"

The bros looked at each other before holding on to Sheen real tight. They then see him holding onto his long hair. "S-Sheen!? What are you doing!?" Chansin said.

"Getting us inside!" Sheen grunted onto unleashing his hair and threw it onto the entrance of the castle, as if it was a rope.

Sheen held on to them as they got off the platform and swing themselves into the castle landscape, dodging many arrows as possible. Once they finally reached, then landed safely on the floor. "Sheen, you saved us!" Chansin grinned. "Your hair really is awesome!"

Feeling proud, and satisfied that his younger brother admirers him, Sheen made a grin as he folded his arms. "Well well, I'm glad you're impressed. I actually managed to make it longer by—"

But Chansin then interrupted him. "Okay, now let's try and stop Kyubi!" He and the others then entered the palace, leaving a dumbfounded Sheen behind.

"...OH COME ON!!" Sheen growled in rage before fussing himself inside.

As the four brothers were sneaking inside the castle, it was mostly quiet. Too quiet. There were no guards, no booby traps, nothing by silence. But however it didn't stop them from finding where Kyubi is. They followed deep into the main hallway, looking over all of the sculptures and paintings magically created for the kitsune. It made Chansin feel disgusted. 

By the time they made it to the end, they quietly hdden themselves inside the main room. Hiding near some statues, they spotted the strong kitsune himself, resting on many cushions with his new harem.

"There he is..." Chansin said quietly.

"That furry bastard!" Sheen growled while whispering. "He's trying to mess with my harem!"

Ignoring his brother's ranting, Chansin looked down to see the wishing rock on Kyubi's paw. "And there's the stone."

"Oh, how are we going to get it?" Gleam wondered. "We can't just sneak in and take it, it would be too impossible."

"...We might have no choice but to crash in..." Snee suggested, readying his sword. Even though he is a little worn out, that still won't stop him from getting into a fight.

Chansin can't help but smirk a little. "I was thinking the same thing..." He cracked his knuckles, waiting for the right moment to strike.

They patiently watched as Kyubi's harem left the room for some relaxation, leaving their master all alone.

Kyubi laughed evilly. "This day has been going to good so far! Perhaps I can make another wish! But what should I wish for?"

"Maybe to say that you're a huge nerd?"

"Why yes, I will certainly wish for t--HUH!?" Kyubi's eyes popped at the sudden voice. "Who dares say that to me!?"

"Why that's actually me!" The voice turned out to be Chansin as he and his brothers popped out. "So maybe do us a favor and give us back that rock!"

"Ha! Never!" Kyubi scoffed at him. "There is no way you and your foolish brothers will get this back! In fact, I might as well make a wish to make you four in a much better predicament than my wreck of a butler!"

This made Chansin even more pissed. "Get that stone from him!!"

The bros charged into the room and cornered Kyubi with their weapons. Even though they still know that their enemy is stronger than them, they still have a chance to take him down. Sheen was first to take down Kyubi, blocking his own set of claws with his sword. This gave Snee the oppertunity to try and take the stone. But however, Kyubi noticed him from behind and took him down with one of his tails.

Chansin and Gleam worked together to strike him down to the floor as Gleam manages to get the stone from Kyubi.

"Finally!" Gleam smiled. "I wish that everything—ACK!" He was about to finish until Kyubi got up and pinned him down, letting go of the stone.

"Gleam!" Chansin cried before seeing the stone on the floor. "I'm going to end this! I wish for things to—"

"NO!" Kyubi screamed from behind as he lunged out and tried to attack Chansin.

But Chansin dodged him, sending Kyubi crashing into a wall. He threw the stone to Sheen. "OK, Sheen, it's up to you!"

Sheen caught the stone as he grinned. "Yes! And now..." He then blushed. "To change things up!" But then , Kyubi appeared and attacked him from behind. "GAH! You son of a bitch!!"

The erotic samurai started a small fight with the kitsune, clashing each other once again while trying to gain the upper hand.

"How dare you try and steal MY harem and MY praises!"

"How is that even important?"

"IT MATTERS TO ME, BECAUSE I ALWAYS WANTED TO GET LAID!"

Sheen then grabbed the stone from him, reparing to say his wish until Kyubi grabs him into the floor. Chansin and Gleam cornered him to save Sheen as a brawl ensues. However, unaware to them, the stone flew out from the skirmish and landed in Snee's grasp. They all stopped to see this happening as Kyubi's eyes widened in shock.

"NO! DON'T YOU DARE!" He begged him.

Snee looked at him before looking at his brothers. He knew that they want him to do it. Looking at the stone, he thought for a few secounds on what to do. Sure, it may not be even possible, but it was worth at least a try. Just like last time, he whispered to the stone for his wish. Once he was finished, the rock glowed and everything was shaking.

"NO! NONONONONONO!!" Kyubi screamed.

"Snee, what did you even d—" Chansin tried to ask but was stopped by Snee as he grabbed him and the rest of the brothers as they were teleported out of the castle.

The four brothers were transported back into the sidewalk in the neighborhood as they watched what was happening in the sky. The entire castle had exploded into their normal house, everything back in place as if nothing was broken. It then gently landed back to it's rightful spot.

The brothers all smiled as they cheered in victory. But it was cut short once they spotted a glow from Snee's hands. They looked to see the wishing rock having a bright glow until it was finally shattered, it's golden color faded.

"Huh, so the wishing rock's gone now, eh?" Chansin said.

"Now it's just a regular rock." Gleam added.

Snee nodded silently as he was soon given a tackle hug by his brothers. "Snee, you did it! You saved our home!" Chansin smiled.

"I'm so proud of you!" Gleam said happily.

Sheen on the other hand sobbed a little, shaking him in despair. "Did you at least wished for me to keep my harem!?"

Snee didn't even answered them. All he did was make a small smile. Even though it was fun letting them experience their fun, sometimes good things come to an end after all.

Their moment has to wait though as they heard a faint scream from Kyubi. They see him up in the sky, falling to his doom...well not really. He just landed on the floor with a little splat. He then got up, moaning over his pain until he looked at his body. "Oh no! Nooooo!" He wailed. "My powerful body! Ruined!" He then sees the bros and growls at them. "You four!! Tell me, where in the world did you got that rock from!? I demand to know!"

"Well we would tell you. Unfortunately, it's the last of those wishing rocks we got from a genie. And said genie can't make any wishes anymore." Chansin smiled slyly, loving the reactons of his rival. "So sorry~."

This causes Kyubi to hiss in anger until he was soon grabbed by the ear by his butler. "What the!? ACK! Sebastian, I demand you to stop pulling me at once!" He demanded.

"Not now, Master Kyubi. You parents will be every disappointed of you fooling off so late once we return." Sebastian said before bowing politely at the bros. "I am terribly sorry for the young one's behavior. I hope he wasn't a bother to any of you."

"Eh, not at all." Chansin smiled, and so did his brothers.

Sebastian waved to them before heading into the limo with a whining Kyubi in tow.

After all of this madness was finally over, the bros then returned back home to prepare for bed soon. They got into their pajamas and decided to drink some water together before getting some rest. All four of them were at the living room, calming talking together about what just happened.

“Man, what a day.” Chansin smiled. “And here’s to think that we would’ve gotten some better lives at this point because of the wish.” He then frowned. “Although,I have to give all of the cool stuff back...” He then grinned. “Buuut, I still hid my winnings from the arcade~!”

“Well, that’s nice. I hope we can use them to bring some good use for the house.” Gleam said. “I had to say goodbye to all of my animal friends. But they’re at the local zoo, so I’m happy that I can still see them.”

Sheen cried in tears while wiping his face. “That’s good for you, but I lost my harem!” He sobbed. “They rejected me the moment I talked to them!”

“Ah, cheer up, Sheen. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.” Chansin comforted him.

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING!” He hissed at him before making a grin. “But however, the only good thing I have left is that I’m completely virgin-free!”

“...Actually, you might have to double take that...” Snee spoke up.

Sheen looked at him. “Wha? The hell are you talking about, Snee? I am still a non-virgin!”

Snee then handed him a virgin tester without saying a word.

This causes Sheen to groan and roll his eyes. “Oh ha ha, very funny. As if you can fool me!” He pressed his finger onto the machine and waited for its answer. “Okay, you see? I’m still not a—”

‘Virgin test complete. You are still a virgin.’

There was a large amount of silence in the room as Sheen’s face was as red as a beat. “....W....w-w...wha-at...?”

“...Since I wished for things to return to normal, you actually got everything you wanted to change...” Snee explained.

“...S-so that means...” Sheen was about to answered.

Gleam made a light, nervous laugh. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“You’re still a virgin.” Chansin finished for Sheen.

It took a moment for Sheen to process all of this info until he started to murmur. He then widened his eyes as the brothers then prepared to leave the house.

“In 3, 2, 1.” Chansin counted.

And then it happened.

“NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

Sheen screamed from the heavens as his dream was completely broken. What a day it was.

Late at night, the four brothers have finally decided to head to sleep. It took them for only two hours to calm Sheen down. Chansin had a “great” idea in knocking him out. It was the only way.

The aforementioned gambler had exited the kitchen for another glass of water as he prepared to return to sleep. But before doing so, he spotted Snee heading for bed. “Oh hey, Snee.” He smiled at him. “You’re heading to bed now?”

“...Yes.” He answered. “You stayed up...?”

Chansin shrugged. “Well kinda. I was just reading some manga before calling it a day.” He then thought for a moment. “Hey...I just want to know something.”

Snee raised an eyebrow. Was there something wrong?”

“I just want to know if you’re feeling okay.” Chansin told him. “I mean, I was practically the only one who noticed that you were worn out ever since Kyubi came in. You sure if you’re okay? If there’s anything that’s up, you know that I’m the one who’s logical enough to understand. Okay?”

The near-eldest felt a little guilty. I mean, Chansin was right. Out of all of the brothers, he knew that he was the one who truly understands him when it comes to things from him that are considered strange or odd. Even though Chansin was younger than him, doesn’t mean that he’s not mature. He didn’t want to do this, but if it’s worth keeping it hidden, what other choice does he have?

Putting his thoughts into words, he simply made a small smile. “...No. It’s fine. I just had something to deal with, that’s all.” He said in his usual, raspy voice.

Chansin was a little skeptic at first, but just shrugged. “Ah, alright.” he then smiled. “Night, Snee.”

Snee made a small wave as he watched his little brother enter his room. When the coast was finally clear though, he entered back to his room to do some business...

When he made it inside, he got rid of the powder that covered the two scars on his face. One from the left side of his neck, and an a large, fresh scar on his left cheek, that was close to his eye. Once that was done with, he opened a jar of red liquid and inserted his fingers into it. He then marked some sort of symbol on both of his palms, somewhat resembling the pentagram and a few other figures around it.

Once he was finished, he then went over to the closet and opened to witness the same symbol marked on the floor, only larger. Laying his knees on the floor, the clapped his hands and pressed them on the symbol, causing a red glow to form. He was then taken to a deep portal into the great unknown, as if it were an elevator.

By the time he was heading down, he was slowly transported to some sort of deep, underground area. Once he made it into the floor, he walked into a dark hallway. While walking there, he is soon greeted by some sort of black, demonic figure, having slanted, yellow eyes and only one horn.

The figure bowed down to him. “This way...” he said in a raspy voice.

Snee followed the figure through the hallway until they have entered a large cavern filled with many demonic creatures in many forms. Some were tall, some were sort, and there were those who look more humanoid compared to the others.There were even some creatures wearing some sort of armor. All of them stared at Snee and instantly bowed at him.

“My people!” The creature who was with Snee spoken up. “For years we have been ruled by a king, and that king has treated us as slaves, throwing away our hope for survival!”

While hearing him speak, Snee was then taken to a small room, where a few of the demons changed his sleepwear in favor of something more.

“But until now, a strange creature from up above has been summon down here to vanquish our former king and free us from his grasp of tyranny!”

Snee’s clothes was changed bit by bit to a formal Japanese clothing. Consisting of a dark purple top tied with a sandy grey ribbon to connect to a light grey hakama. He didn’t even wore no shoes or sandals that the hakama was big enough to cover his feet.

“The creature at first was hesitant in fighting him. But soon, he came back and slayed our king with all of his might!”

Once he was finished, Snee came out as two demons dressed in armor gave him a very large sandy coat with a white skull as the pin with two small horns on each side. He then returned to the main cavern, where was greeted by all of the demons.

“And now that our king is banished, it is time we welcome...our new demon king!”

A few demons lighted up a torch and ran up to the corpse of the former king. They threw it at the body, causing it to light up with the rapid flames.

As the final touch for Snee, he was crowned with a bronze crown with only four sharp horns and a glowing blue flame at the center. Unlike the blue flame from his hat, where it was simply plastic, the flame on his crown was real.

“Long live, our demon king Snee!!” The creature cheered out.

All of the demons cheered as well as they keep on chanting the same sentence over and over from their victory.

Snee just stood there and watched everything unfold. He didn’t really reacted as much, but he did knew one thing: his wish of having his own demon army was finally complete. And although it was risky using five more wishes to help fight the former king, it was enough to make him feel  good inside.

And all he could say was this. “...It has begun.”

TO BE CONTINUED?

[slrbookclub]

Twin Star-Commencement Chapter 1 Father’s Folly

    The carriage rolled at a brisk pace down the forest road.  At sporadic intervals, the coach hit bumps in the old dirt roadway, jostling the riders within.  “It’s getting dark, Father.  How much farther to the outpost?”  The young woman of nineteen had tried to keep the fear from her voice, but it crept in, like the night around them.

        “We will be there soon; we’re within a mile of the compound. Don’t worry, Rose, The Guard patrols these roads.  We will be safe.”  William stretched out his tall muscular frame and ran his hand through his silvering golden-blonde hair.  He tried to comfort her with his confident façade, letting his aging features relax with exaggerated boredom, but his reassuring words and actions did nothing to calm her fears.  

        “Angela, can you hand me that blanket?”  Elizabeth asked the young woman next to her.  Angela was three years older than Elizabeth, but the resemblance was astonishing.  Her eyes were the only feature that was a contrast to Elizabeth; Angela’s were a vivid green like their father, while Elizabeth’s were a bright, cool blue. Angela handed the blanket to her with a strained smile.

        Elizabeth wrapped it around the dozing child sitting next to her. Brianna was a carbon copy of Elizabeth, long, dark honey-colored hair, soft ivory skin, coral-colored lips, wrapped in the frame of a nine-year-old.  She leaned against the carriage wall sleepily, waking with each bump, and then falling quickly back into the rhythmic breathing of a child’s carefree slumber.

        “Father, we should’ve stopped at that last village for the night.” Michael leaned his well-toned frame forward, trying unsuccessfully to scan the trees for danger.  “It would’ve been safer for the girls.”

        Michael was barely a minute older than Elizabeth, and his reference to their safety made her smile despite herself.  He was hardly a carbon copy of his twin.  He looked like their father, instead of their mother, and he was tall, his hair gleaming a golden-blonde against his bronze skin, his eyes the same vivid green as their older sister and father.  

        William winced at the reminder of their earlier argument.  It was not often that his son openly disputed his decisions, but this time had been the worst.  It seemed silly to William for his son to overreact to his insistence on continuing to the outpost.  “You kids worry too much.  Rose can fight as well as either of us.  After ten years, I’m still getting an earful from your Aunt Lucinda for that fact.”  He smiled proudly at his middle daughter, but Elizabeth did not share his mirth.  Many things stalked in the dark, and a woman with a sword—or a man for that matter—would not so easily intimidate some of them.

        “I’m not letting a thrown shoe delay us any more than it has already,” the older man continued, bothered by their lack of confidence in his decision.  “Your aunt will be livid with us having to stop at the outpost.  If we leave there at dawn, we will be in Exeter before lunch, and I will be able to take leave within the hour with the excuse of making it home before sunset.”  

        He smiled at the cleverness of his detour, knowing that if he had to stay longer than necessary with that woman, he would go insane.  It would be maddening having to listen to her constant bickering about them arriving late, for the hour required to keep up the pretenses of politeness.

        “And maybe one of your sisters will find a nice soldier to bring home with them.  That would certainly deflate your aunt’s conniving mannerism!”  Their father’s teasing remark brought about a chorus of protesting from the older girls and gleeful laughter from Michael.

        The bloodcurdling screams of Gregory, the coachman, and Jeffrey, the footman, broke through the night, silencing the entire coach, and sending Brianna scampering into Elizabeth’s lap, blanket forgotten on the floor.  Michael was immediately on his feet, drawing his sword carefully in the enclosed space.  

        As soon as the rapier cleared the scabbard, a delicate white arm—fringed at the forearm in cream-colored lace—reached through the window at the back of the carriage, grabbed the young man by the back of his hair, and snatched him back through the small portal.  Michael’s sword thudded to the floor and brought forth screaming from the young girls and cursing from their father.  The older man threw open the coach door and jumped from the moving carriage to face the hidden foe attacking his children.

        An unseen predator ripped the opposite coach door from the hinges, and a bone-white face appeared with eyes as red as embers.  He grinned evilly, as his ghostly hand shot forward, making a grab for Brianna. Elizabeth shrank back from the now visible vampire, shielding her little sister.  

        With wild panic, Angela threw herself over her two younger sisters to protect them.  The older girl’s eyes never left the unnatural orbs staring mockingly at her heroic foolishness.  He did not hesitate, as he wrapped his hand around her throat, and snatched her from the slowing carriage.

        Elizabeth pulled Brianna up with one hand and grabbed the abandoned sword from the floor of the coach with the other.  She waited for a chance to exit the vehicle, fighting a wave of nausea and dizziness at the sudden disappearance of the connection she shared with her twin.  She swallowed the lump in her throat, squinted the tears from her eyes, and pushed all thoughts from her mind.  She knew if she fell apart now, she and Brianna would die.  As the coach crept to a stop, Elizabeth exited with her younger sister fast on her heels.  The young girl tugged at her older sister’s skirts as if knowing that breaking this physical connection would suck her into a void of darkness and death.

        Across the clearing, a female vampire watched the two remaining girls exit the carriage with a malevolent smile, having just finished draining Michael of his lifeblood.  The redhead's pealing laughter echoed off the surrounding trees.  She sidled her lean, athletic body forward slowly—giving her fiery spirals a playful bounce with each step—thinking to intimidate the young woman.  Her feral, demonic smile vanished, as she realized that it had no effect on her prey.  The red-head tilted her head and watched the woman with curious confusion.

        Elizabeth slid Brianna against the side of the coach and placed herself in front of her youngest sister.  She pressed her back against Brianna and whispered, “Close your eyes, and don’t open them, no matter what.”  She turned her attention back to the approaching female.

        Elizabeth steeled herself and dropped into a defensive crouch.  It was obvious to the red-haired vampire that the young woman was no novice with the sword.  She studied the human girl for a moment, but past exploits left her overconfident.  She had felled many men three times this girl’s size without a single scratch. She pounced forward with hardly a second thought.

        Elizabeth reacted instinctively.  She threw her brother’s sword up at the last moment, impaling the female through the chest.  She, then, used her foot to push the shocked woman from her blade, and with a quick, clean strike of the rapier’s sharpened edges, she beheaded the vampire.  She silently gave thanks that her brother had insisted so vehemently that the blacksmith modify the blade to be a slashing weapon, as well as, a piercing weapon.

        Elizabeth, so engrossed with the attacking creature, did not see the second woman crouched to spring less than ten yards away.  The blonde female leapt forward, letting a ferocious growl slip through her parted, bloody lips.  Had Elizabeth not heard the snarl, she would have been caught unaware.  Elizabeth threw the sword up and across her own body using her left hand to stabilize the long blade, protecting her vulnerable neck. She cringed, as the female’s gleaming teeth hit the flat of the blade and the razor edge of the sword bit into her bare palm.  Elizabeth pushed forward, with all the strength she had, trying to put a little distance between herself and the second female’s deadly maw.  

        The blade hitting the vampire in the mouth so unexpectedly, knocked the small blonde woman off balance, otherwise, Elizabeth’s attempt to push her away would never have worked.  The vampire stumbled back holding her busted mouth.  Elizabeth never hesitated.  She swung the sword across with the pure desperation born of survival instinct.  The rapier took off the young blonde’s head and the hand that she had been holding to her busted mouth.  

 *  * *  *  *

         Marin tossed the near-lifeless body of the young woman aside. He wanted to take the time to savor the kill but knew that the patrols would arrive too soon.  That was the risk of attacking so close to the outpost.  He still had not found the scent that had drawn him here.  It was as strong as ever on the light evening breeze, nearly intoxicating.  He had thought that it was the now dead woman at his feet, but the scent had faded, once he pulled her from the carriage. The frustration boiled in him at the disappointment, and the knowledge that such a succulent bouquet would be wasted on one of the others.

        A blood-curdling shriek followed by an angry, feral growl wrenched him from his frustrated thoughts.  He whirled around in a blur, in time to see the head of Veronica rolling across the clearing and Sybil spring in for the kill.  Somehow the woman spun around in time to fend off Sybil’s ferocious attack. He had never seen a human move so fast. His curiosity peeked, Marin moved toward them, just as the breeze wafted the intoxicating scent he had been searching for into his nostrils.  It was far more powerful now, as the fresh blood flowed freely from the wound in the woman’s palm.

        Marin watched Sybil stumble backward—thrown off balance from the blow to the mouth and the push from the young woman.  He saw the blade turn for the killing strike, and he exploded into action.  He could only hope that he would cover the distance in time to save Sybil.

        He was too late…

 *  * *  *  *

         At that moment, an unseen force hit Elizabeth from the side.  She felt her left arm shatter from the force of the blow, and the wind deserted her lungs.  The young woman let her body roll, as it hit the ground, to absorb much of the impact.  She sprang to her feet, sword ready to defend, expecting her opponent to continue attacking to keep her off balance.  She gasped, forcing air into her stunned lungs, and cringed—jaw set at the debilitating pain in her injured arm and damaged ribs.  

        Elizabeth froze, as an ear-piercing scream erupted from behind the tall, dark-haired male vampire that was now standing in front of her.  He smiled wickedly, watching with gratification, as Elizabeth reacted to her little sister’s sobs ending abruptly.  In that instant, a wave of grief overcame Elizabeth, and she almost dropped her brother’s sword.  

        As her heart shattered, the rage engulfed her.  Her hand tightened on the hilt of her brother’s blade.  She charged the vampire, swinging with wild fury, not caring anymore about anything but killing the monster.

        The vampire’s barrage came in a blur of movement that Elizabeth barely registered through the red haze of her fury.  In one swift movement, the alabaster monster kicked her right leg, launching her into the side of the coach.  The rage dulled the pain of her broken limbs.  He was on her in seconds, pinning her to the side of the carriage and going for her vulnerable neck.  Elizabeth’s sword arm came down with the full force of her rage for the killing blow, but he was ready.  The vampire grabbed her arm and pinned it to the side of the carriage.  Elizabeth fought his hold with all the strength the fury had lent to her.        

        She was not strong enough!  Elizabeth watched in abject horror, as the vampire leaned in, and his mouth closed on her bare neck.

        She gasped, as the pain stole her bloodlust and all ability to scream.  Her vision began to clear, no longer tinged with red, before beginning to blur once again, darkness creeping in.  She could feel her hand loosen its hold on the hilt of the sword, and she fought to keep her fingers clenched around it. Then, the pain in her body began to ease, and her vision to blacken.  

        She could hear a female voice somewhere close speaking a language she could not place.  At the edges of her consciousness, she could just make out a distant rumbling.  She heard the male answer the woman in what sounded like a rebuff.  The female pleaded insistently, as the rumbling became louder and more distinct.

        Then, Elizabeth was falling, unable to make her limbs work. Her limp body dropped into the damp grass, her head hitting a rock, as it raced unbidden to the ground.  The sword bounced from her uncooperative hand, skittering across the damp grass.  She reached for the blade and tried to fight off the darkness—to force her eyes to open, but she was too weak from the blood loss.  She fell into the void, screaming silently.

 *  * *  *  *

         Marin saw the rage engulf the young woman just in time to react before Elizabeth could launch fully into the fury that clouded her vision. He kicked her right leg with such force, that it slammed her into the carriage and bent her leg at a sickly, odd angle.  He was on her before her feet could firmly touch the ground.  He pinned her by her hair to the side of the coach.  The young woman swung her sword in a desperate attempt to stave off his attack, but Marin caught her arm and slammed it back against the carriage wall, exposing her soft, ivory neck.  She struggled, ripping clumps of hair out by the roots, and almost tearing her head free of his iron grasp, as she screamed with fury.  

        Marin salivated—the woman’s scent calling to him—as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to her soft, sweet neck.  His fangs pierced her flesh. The sweet nectar of her blood rushed into him, and he forgot the world around him. Never, in his hundreds of years on this earth, had a human tasted so delectable.  He never wanted it to end, but he knew that it would be over far too soon.

        Drawn in by the experience, Marin almost did not feel the grip on his arm.  As his senses began to return, Emmaline’s desperate voice finally reached his ears. “Please, love!  We must go.  The Guard is here.”

        Marin withdrew from his prize and reacted instinctively.  He snatched his arm from Emmaline’s grasp and yelled, “She is mine, and I will have all of her.”  He raised his arm to strike his mate across the face.  Without the blood flowing into him, the effects began to wane, and he regained some of his senses—enough to stop himself.  He looked at Emmaline with horrified shame, then back at the human woman.  

        He heard and felt the hoof beats of The Guard, as they rushed toward the scene.  Emmaline pleaded again for him to leave, and this time he followed.  He let his prize—barely alive—fall limply to the ground, as he ran full speed into the forest.

[ber39james]

How to Write an Outline: 4 Ways to Organize Your Thoughts

When I was a novice writer, I chafed at the idea of using an outline. I was certain organizing my thoughts in advance would stifle my creativity and make my writing stiff and uninspired. After all, how can serendipity happen if you’ve got everything planned?

But then I started creating content for a living, and I needed to turn out several polished articles every week. I write at least 240,000 words per year to earn my keep. That’s only about half of War and Peace, but it still feels like a lot. I try to write quickly so I’m not still awake toiling away at the keyboard at 1 a.m. with a cup of tea and a couple of graham crackers. (1 a.m. graham cracker calories do seem to count, by the way.)

I discovered that it was taking me a long time to finish my articles because, when my creative mind was unfettered, I had a tendency to ramble in a chaotic stream of consciousness that I would then have to go back and structure in order for it to make sense. Not only that, but I would over-research. I’d wind up with a thousand words before I realized I was only one third of the way through my article. I’d have to go back, refocus, trim down, and sometimes even start over.

And so, I started outlining. And it saved me. Not only from sleep deprivation, but from graham-cracker weight gain. Here’s my step-by-step process. And it works!

1 Do some reconnaissance reading.

Unless I know my topic inside and out, I start with a little reconnaissance reading. I head to Google and look at what others have written on my topic. I try to think of new and interesting ways to address it. I look for an angle.

The easiest way to find an angle is to look for knowledge gaps in the articles you scan. Let’s use this article as an example. I searched to see what others had written on the topic of how to write an outline. I found a lot on the basics of structure, but not much about how to actually use outlines to improve the organization of your writing. Voila! An angle!

As you’re reading, take notes when you see interesting research or quotes you might want to share. Note the URLs, too, so you can reference them with links in your article. I keep my notes in a Google Doc on the same page where I’m eventually going to create my outline and write my article. Having all the information in one place will allow you to write faster when the time comes.

Here’s a tip: Don’t go too far down the research rabbit hole! Remember, you’re just doing a little reconnaissance reading. It’s easy to over-research, which wastes valuable writing time. Plan to write first, and then add research later.

2 Write down your objective.

Now that you’ve figured out an angle, it’s helpful to write down an objective. What do you want the reader to understand by the end of this article? Put some thought into your objective and see if you can write it in one sentence. My objective for this article was:

At the end of this article, readers will understand why outlines are useful and how to use them to organize their writing.

Everything you write should support your objective. An objective will help you stay focused and prevent you from drifting off on tangents.

Here’s a tip: Academic papers often include a thesis statement. A thesis states a premise or theory that your paper will go on to prove. It’s different from an objective. If you need more specific help with writing a thesis statement, try checking with any university writing center.

3 Create a list of all the main points you want to make.

I often begin this step while I’m doing my recon reading and ideas are popping into my head. This can be a quick brainstorming process. Don’t invest a lot of energy in organizing just yet. You’ll get to that in the next step.

4 Organize, revise, and eliminate.

Now it’s time to organize the list of points. Figure out the structure of your article. Will it work well as numbered how-to steps? A listicle? In standard essay format?

Take a look at the points you’ve jotted down and begin putting them into a logical order. Cross-check each point to make certain that it’s relevant to your objective. If you’ve strayed off the path and included extra information that doesn’t really fit the scope of your article, eliminate it.

Here’s a tip: Save things that don’t make it into your article—information that was extraneous to the article you’re working on now but may be interesting enough to pursue in a separate article some other time. I keep an idea file that I store as a Google Doc. Reference your file when you need a little article inspiration.

You may come across a few things that don’t quite fit into your article as their own sections, but seem important to mention nonetheless. Those elements make great sidebars. In this article, you’ll see them used as tips. Pretty nifty, huh?

As you revise, start putting your outline into a standard format. You don’t have to be too formal about this process, just organize everything into a bulleted or numbered list. (If you want to be traditional, use Roman numerals. I think they make my outlines look fancy.) Include topic segments. Under each topic segment, indent and include the points you’ll discuss in each paragraph. You don’t have to get too granular here—all you’re looking for is enough information to help you remember where you’re going and keep you organized and on track. My outline for this article looked like this:

I. Intro

A. I didn’t used to outline

B. Becoming a professional writer made me change my tune

C. Outlining brings structure to chaos

II. Do some recon reading

A. Look for angle, ways the topic has not been covered

1. Look for knowledge gaps

B. Take notes while you’re reading/record URLs

C. Don’t go too far down the research rabbit hole

III. Make a quick list of the points you want to make

IV. Organize the list into a formal outline

A. Get rid of anything that doesn’t support objective

1. Save extra stuff in a clip file for future use

B. Some extra stuff is worth keeping as tips/sidebars

C. Demonstrate standard outline format

An outline isn’t a prison—it’s there to guide you, not control you. You can take conscious detours, or change things around as you write. Outlines are just guidelines, so they shouldn’t feel restrictive. And yet, you’ll be surprised how the simple act of creating one will give your articles more structure and keep them focused and on-point. You’ll write with more clarity, and you’ll do it all faster and more efficiently. Outlines for the win!

The post How to Write an Outline: 4 Ways to Organize Your Thoughts appeared first on Grammarly Blog.

from Grammarly Blog https://www.grammarly.com/blog/how-to-write-outline/

[ianportillo5600-blog]

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