#but yes. from what I read so far. they be the abandonment issues trio~

[noname-nonartist]

An Shiraishi Mizuki Akiyama Rui Kamishiro

🤝 🤝

✨Abandonment Issues~ ✨

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Common Thieves

Short WIP of rewritten scenes from a certain Disney movie and adding Zelda because I’m an adult so, no, you can’t stop me. 

I sat on this one for too long... time to let it out into the pasture.

Common Thieves

A trio of carriages rolled passed a sign reading: “East Necluda”. Underneath the letters were etched markings that indicated three miles before the region border.  The entourage of soldiers accompanying them lit up the night around them.

The trail hadn’t been maintained in several years, a testament to the rural inhabitants and the reputation the road had built in the recent months. Still, the party pushed onward steadily – even as the sun slowly abandoned them. Lines of guards walked along with the first carriage with a several mules hauling oversized trunks.

Days of traveling brought a silence over the men and ripped any urge to paint their boredom with banter. Other the occasional curt direction to the work animals, the only noises either came from their marching or the muffled conversation in the vehicles they surrounded.

“Does it look like I am a mere peasant?” a vibrant hiss came through the first caravan – it was decorated with Gerudo drapes of rich color, shimmering even in the darkness.

Inside, the weary looking fellow with his helmet resting on his hip flinched as the hisser sneered.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” he spoke fast, “I only mean to inform His Highness that we passed the last town two hours ago and in order for His Highness to rest it would entail putting up camp.”

“Putting up camp?!” the larger of the men reared back. His gold-laced fingers gripped the chair. “Absolutely not. I will not be treated like some poor panhandler on the side of the road. We will ride through the night.”

The guard paused for a short moment, shrinking at the gaze he received before bowing his head. “At your word, My Lord.”

Another man, skinnier than the lot, appeared beside the superior and stared with the wide eyes of admonishment. His words were spoken quick and high-pitched, “Do you have any idea who you are addressing?”

“I-” the guard looked between the two with uncertainty.

“Why, the Royal Advisor Ganondorf Dragmire. ‘Lordship’ doesn’t shine a match to the nature of his reputation!” he gasped and held his book of notes closely while making grandiose gestures. Loose papers fluttered to the caravan floor. “He has proved himself to be above such title! Illustrious is he, respectable is he, most honorable – absolutely, and not to forget how handsome is he--”

The royal advisor patted his acquaintance on the shoulder with more force than necessary and smiled chivalrously. “Never mind that, sergeant. We will ride through the night.”

The sergeant cleared his throat, “Yes, Your… Highness.”

As he exited the moving carriage, the flaps closed behind him and through them had commenced a series of muffled arguments that had become the norm during marches.

Another armor-clad man reared his horse beside the sergeant with another horse in tow.

“Well? What does he want to do?”

The sergeant scratched his red beard and let out the sigh that was building in his chest, then took his horse’s reigns with short words of thanks. 

His partner raised his brow, “That bad, huh?”

“Gods, I don’t want to hear it Kriss. Inform the lads that we we’re riding straight to Hateno.”

When he spoke, he tried to copy the intimidating scowl of the royal advisor but his compatriot still grumbled with annoyance as he twisted his horse in the opposite direction.

Their travels matched the demeanor of wartimes, and though they technically were, this party wasn’t avoiding frequent rests for the sake of catching the enemy and nor was their pacing any faster with the amount of luggage they hauled. It was well known through the garrison that this was the equivalence to a royal tour and it should be treated as such – yet no one spoke it above a whisper.

“Sir!”

It was a younger man, barely out of boyhood. He was scraggly, even his stance was uneven when he drew his heels together for a salute. The boy faltered in the process as his ill-fitting armor rattled from the movements. The sergeant withheld an eye-roll, lazing over his saddle to give the kid a forlorn look.

“What is it, Short-Stack?”

“There’s a traveler coming towards us,” he swallowed nervously, gesturing vaguely ahead. “What should we do?”

Momentarily, he looked up at the partially starry sky and sighed once more. “Well, does he look like he’s armed? Dangerous at any degree? Use common sense, son. The last time it was another fur trader.”

Short-Stack fiddled with his gloves and spoke with varying degrees of confidence. “Um, no sir. Sir, it appears to be a woman and-and we haven’t encountered one and I was wondering what the procedures were and--”

“A woman?” the sergeant blinked, promptly ignoring anything more the boy had to say.

His eyes flickered to the dulling sky and motioned his horse to approach the head of the party. As he did, the snickering of those walking ahead abruptly ended. About one-hundred yards away was a cloaked woman, so unmistakably feminine that the sergeant had to do a double take.

Her approach only emphasized what they say from far away. Though she was dressed modestly, it was obvious to any man that she was well-endowed. In her hands was a glowing, recently lit lantern that swayed playfully with her hips.

“Hello, boys!” she called out, giggling afterward and pulled her cloak closer to herself.

The men around the sergeant whispered excitedly and he gave a hard stare to them before straightening in his saddle and trotting in front of the group because, after all, he was the sergeant. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this woman-traveler couldn’t be in some state of concern.

She paused as he approached and blinked owlishly up at him.

“Madam,” he said, dipping his head slightly, “It’s getting rather late, can I ask what you’re doing out at such a time?”

The woman made a noise of surprise and looked over her shoulder as if the sun had snuck passed her. “Oh dear…” she pouted, “I knew I should have left earlier. Why, I was hoping to reach the next inn by sundown!”

“The next inn is two hours minimum on foot,” he recounted with astonishment. Then, pretended to think. “It just happens, my lady, that I am the leader of this particular garrison.”

She gaped, “Is that so? That’s most impressive, sir! Whose company are you escorting this fine evening?”

A smile crept up his face and he nodded smugly. “The Royal Advisor and a few members of His Majesty’s court.”

“Is that right?” she nodded, coming to terms with his words. “I suppose I must be on my way, then. I wouldn’t dare impose on His Lordship.”

A shout of outrage sounded behind the sergeant and he stiffened at the realization of his mistake.

The royal advisor had a distinct voice that shouted without needing to raise his voice. His assistant clambering out of the stopped carriage with much difficulty. Before the opening closed, Dragmire voiced his complaints without abandon.

“Sergeant! Ghirahim, I want his head or it will be yours, by the gods--” The rest of his sentence was muffled as the thin man left him.

The one named Ghirahim hurried to slick back his white hair and scrambled to the front of the carriage. He first gave the horses a wary look before turning his attention to what was impeding them. With a fit of outrage bubbling, he stopped himself mid-word to address the woman.

“And just who are you?” Ghirahim seethed. She went to explain only to be interrupted by his flailing hands. “Actually, you are irrelevant. No matter of concern to the given issue at foot. Sergeant-!”

Then, the woman gasped.

“Is that not the royal advisor to His Majesty?” she covered her mouth daintily, looking past Ghirahim.

The sergeant nearly jumped out of his saddle at the sudden presence of the man, who seemed set on a fit of rage and decidedly settling to a curious indifference at his impediment. The woman pushed by Ghirahim and gave a small curtsy.

The royal advisor didn’t look at the sergeant when he addressed him. “Who is this?”

“A woman, Your Highness.”

He scowled heavily in his direction, “I know that. I meant who she is!”

“Franny, My Lord!” she spoke with excitement, ignoring the assistant’s gawking expression. Franny dipped into a curtsy. “It is quite the honor to be in your esteemed presence Lord Ganondorf. You’re held in such high favor around these parts, as I’m sure you know.”

Ghirahim attempted to cut through while maintaining a concentrated glare. “How dare you grace His Highness with your impertinence!”

The advisor smiled, not taking his eyes off the woman. “Am I now? It is unsurprising, however I do enjoy hearing it from your lips.”

“Sir,” Franny giggled, “If I’m not being too impertinent. Between you and I, I am in the business of telling one’s future. You see, I know now that this must be of the goddess’s divine will to have us meet!”

The assistant blanched. “Absolutely not! Your Highness, I beseech you to ignore this wickedness.”

“You will beseech me to do none of the sort,” Ganondorf dropped his grin momentarily to wave away the smaller man. “Do forgive this man’s ignorance. I must admit, you have me captivated.”

Again, she laughed and took his awaiting arm. Before the advisor led her away, she pushed her lantern into the assistance chest without another thought of his boiling anger. Ghirahim huffed and moved to follow them with his tail between his legs.

“Sergeant,” he bidded coldly.

The trio disappeared into the caravan and immediately the officer frowned.

Something was off, surely.

“Sergeant?” a dainty voice called out. His attention was immediate. An unmistakable face stared back at him with a quizzical brow. “Why have we stopped?”

“A short reprieve, Lady Zelda,” he smiled, nodding her way. The lady was halfway down her caravan’s steps when she called to him. Her kindness was appreciated and the sergeant wasn’t about to anger her by blubbering that they were held up because of His Lordship.

She hesitated outside her caravan, opting to watch the stars instead of retiring once more. The sergeant took a moment to watch her idle; she was a beautiful, youthful, and owning every bit of the curiosity that came with those traits. Her father was right to keep an eye on her, he thought to himself.

Some minutes went by and the men began snickering when noises began coming from the royal advisor’s carriage. Disgusted, the sergeant ordered them away while suddenly realizing the promiscuity that may have been outlining that woman’s proposition.

But the noises grew louder that even he couldn’t keep his eyes off the vehicle’s abhorrent jostling and reprimanded the few that stayed behind it. After all, he wasn’t entirely foolish – who knows what the advisor would do if rumors were milled around.

A few more minutes and – wait wasn’t the assistant in there as well?

“Guards!” a shrill voice screamed.

From behind the caravan ran a rather large form. It spooked the sergeant’s horse and from there all hell broke loose. The officer could hardly gather his bearings. The men around him stared with wide eyes at the carriages and then back to the sergeant with dumb idle.

“Gods, damn it all – GUARDS!”

Blearily, the officer began shouting orders and like ants the men were clambering into the wagon. The driver hurried to calm the horses amongst the scurry, especially when several men in armor ran into the forest. The sergeant dismounted quickly to find the royal advisor and his assistant bound by their feet and hands, left only in their underclothes.

“Don’t look!” Ganondorf screamed as Ghirahim blubbered incoherently on his side. “Do not look at me!”

The sergeant stood aghast. The cabin was scraped clean – from the gold trim of the windows to the velvet pillows – all had been taken. Most egregiously, the trunks of Akkala long coats had been taken as well and were being mourned over in low sniffling.

“We’ve been,” Ghirahim sobbed through short breathes before continuing, “We’ve been robbed! Robbed! Your Highness!”

“Shut up and stop crying, you imbecile!”

The rest of the evening hours were the longest the sergeant had ever lived through. The woman, who had evidently turned out to be a man, was far gone by the time patrols began. It was also said he was accompanied by a Goron with the strength of eight men, but he hadn’t believed it until the wanted posters were found when they arrived in Hateno.

The illustrations were pinned throughout town on every surface the royal guard could find at the insistence of the royal advisor. Those blue eyes were unmistakable from that night, though the green cap had been absent, and the scowling Goron bandit beside him matched up with his men’s description perfectly.

That had been the royal advisor’s first encounter with the renowned outlaw Link Woods.

[spencesglasses]

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 2

a/n: ah yes, a case chapter. this was gonna be longer but i didn’t want it to just drag on and i just ended up cutting out some parts soooo enjoy this 3k word chapter of y/n using her big galaxy brain to solve a case with just a pinch of fluff w spence :)

part one | part three

It was only the beginning of the movie when the weight of the day hit her. She snuggled further into the couch, trying to gain some extra warmth. Spencer had his apartment so cold, she could nearly feel the chill creeping up her body. Her eyelids began to close shut slowly, and the sound of the television lulls her to sleep. She was far too tired to keep herself awake, so she hoped that Spencer didn’t mind if she rests, at least for a few minutes.

Spencer keeps his eyes glued to the television screen, having been making commentary throughout, he didn’t even notice Y/N fast asleep. “You know, it’s actually scientifically impossible for someone to-“ He turns his head to look at her, and she lets out a quiet snore. The TV’s sound was barely audible now, Spencer turning it down so it wouldn’t wake her. He stood up to his full height and the freshly cleaned floor squeaks as his feet carried him to the cupboard that held spare linens and duvets.

He laid a blanket over her figure gently, careful not to disturb her. Taking the extra blankets, he spread them out, making a makeshift bed on the floor below her. He flickered off the TV and all that could be heard was the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows. Spencer let the layers of blankets engulf him in warmth, letting his eyes fall heavy and drifts off to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the vibrations of her phone ringing. It was Anna. Wait. I’m still on Spencer’s couch. Shit! I was asleep longer than I should have! She sits up, checking the time, “I’m late to work!”

She tossed the blanket off her and tried to push herself off the couch. But then she sees him. Spencer curled up with a blanket that was much too small for him. She stifled a snicker and covered him with the blanket she was once using.

Before Y/N could leave, she noticed a pen and notepad sitting atop his desk. Maybe I should leave a note, she thought. She grabbed the pen and the black ink slid smoothly across the page.

Sorry to leave so soon… and for falling asleep during the movie. Lets reschedule? Keep in touch, 187! xx

-Your favorite barista

She heard Spencer stir in his sleep, and just before he could wake up, she was gone.

-

“Surprise?” Garcia questioned. “What surprise? What’s going on-” and then she realizes. “Oh, Coffee shop girl! You’re the girl from the coffee shop!”

Y/N hid a giggle behind her hand as she stood. “You told them about me?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see JJ’s head shoot up. “Yeah, Spence,” she says, tilting her head at him. “You told us about her?”

“I told Garcia,” he grumbles.

Spencer can feel the five pairs of eyes on him. He didn’t think that not telling the team about her was such a big deal. Why was it such a problem he kept something to himself for once? They practically live together. Spencer just wanted to keep someone who makes him feel like a person. He wanted to keep her so close to him because he finally had the chance to think about something other than work and the cases, and the people he couldn’t save. He wanted to be someone; to feel normal. In the time that it’s silent, he understood why Y/N didn’t tell him, but he sure as hell wishes that she did.

Spencer’s eyes flicker back and forth between her and the team.  “We should focus on the case.”

-

The first case Y/N works on with a team is fairly close, which she appreciated. She wasn’t particularly fond of plane rides but that was something she had to get used to. Joy, who she found out is Rossi’s daughter, had been writing a piece about violence against women on campus, and noticed a series of mishap in the area. After finding what she believed was more of a case than a possible story, she brought attention to a series of disappearances to the team’s attention once a young woman by the name of Bahni Desai had gone missing.

“4 cases in 9 years.” Derek speaks into the cell, sitting in the driver’s seat. “How come this hasn’t been on our radar?”

“Because the disappearances were in different states with different M.O’s.” Rossi explained over the speaker.

Y/N claimed her spot on the middle seat in the back, reviewing a case file. “The first missing woman was Kathy Miller in 2006,”

Morgan questioned. “So what’s the plan once we land on campus?’

“Track Bahni’s movements. Campus police checked her room, she’s not there. They taped it off for you.” Hotch instructed.

“What about her cell phone?” asked Spencer.

Y/N shifted in her seat, passing the file to Spencer and whispered to him. “It’s kind of cold in here, don’t you think?”

He turned ever so slightly to look at her. “I have my jacket in my bag if you need it,”

She dug to find the much-needed jacket and threw it over her shoulders. It was his FBI issued jacket, tapered at the sleeves and a bit oversized. It smelt like him, she noted. Cinnamon and coffee. She offered him a gentle smile. “Thanks, Spence.”

Spencer returned the smile, handing her back the file.

“It just pinged in her room overnight,” Garcia informed. “No credit card activity. I’ve confirmed with all the ticket agencies she didn’t take a boat, bus, blimp, or plane last night. Oh! The Dean's office just sent us her file from Judy Temple College. It looks like- Oh dear…” She trails off.

“Looks like what, Garcia?” Y/N urged, tugging the jacket closer to her.

“She voluntarily withdrew!”

-

“She definitely didn’t plan on leaving town,” Spencer surveyed Bahni’s abandoned closet. “Her clothes, shoes, and luggage are all still here.”

“Well, it looks like she was trying on different outfits,” said Morgan.

Y/N shuffled past Spencer, standing next to Morgan, and observed the clothes laid out. “Miniskirts, heels. Seems like she was going out.” Y/N added.

“But why not take her phone?” Reid asked, picking up Bahni’s cell. “She’d need it to meet up with her friends.”

She spun on her heel and inspected her desk, noticing two chemistry textbooks. “Unless her friends were already here,” she suggests, her finger brushes against the lettering on the cover, then beckons Morgan to look at the books.

She turned the cover of the textbook, Morgan doing the same to the one to their left. Y/N pushes out a sharp exhale out of her pursed lips. Paddy Morris, she read.

Morgan is the first to speak. “Same textbooks, different names. “She wasn’t studying alone.”

Spencer moves closer to the pair and peers over Y/N’s shoulder. “That could be the last person who saw her.”

-

Y/N trailed behind Morgan and Reid with her hands tucked into the pockets of Spencer’s jacket, and her eyes wandered around the halls of the building. This is going to be her first interview. She wasn’t nervous, per se, but her mind couldn’t help but fill with possible scenarios. Don’t mess this up, Y/N. Only ask questions relevant to the case and remember, don’t say the wrong thing.

“Nice jacket,” Morgan commented, slowing down to reach Y/N’s pace.

“Nice face,” she joked, reaching up to tap his cheek.

Y/N quickened her pace, walking past Spencer, and she could practically feel his stare burning into the back of her head. She found the correct door, and it was Reid and Morgan’s turn to trail behind her. Finding Paddy’s correct door number, she taps her knuckles against the hard wood. “Paddy Morris, this is the FBI,”

“Very funny, Josh,” They heard through the door.

Y/N turned to the men behind her and they shrugged their shoulders in unison. She scrunched up her nose, knocking once more.

The trio held up their badges as the door flung open, exposing the girl. “You’re not Josh.”

“Great observation,” Y/N nodded.

Paddy opened the door wider for them, and they took their spot on the three chairs to the side of her bed. “We have a few questions about Bahni Desai,” Morgan told her. “Is there any information you have that might help us?”

She let out a sharp exhale. “I was with her last night. She was fine,”

“Any idea why she left her cell phone in her room?”

“We didn’t take purses, and we didn’t have pockets in our skirts.” Paddy draws out.

Y/N saw Spencer shift in his seat. “Ok, walk us through the night, you guys were studying before you went out?”

“Yeah, um,” her voice is shaky. “I knew about this party. She didn't want to go.”

It was Y/N’s turn to ask a question. “Did you two come back to the dorm?”

Not too bad, not too bad, she reassures herself.

“No. I made her stay.”

“Why?”

She gulped, looking over their shoulders and out the window. “There was this tennis guy that I’d been trading tweets with. He said he’d show up, but he was late, and then the later it got, the more I drank.”

“How much did you have?” asked Reid.

“Her, I don’t know. Me, a lot. Until Peter arrived…” she trails off. “She told me she was going right after that.”

“Did anyone walk out after her, maybe try to escort her?”

“Not that I saw,” she frowns, face streaked with tears and day old mascara wiped beneath her eyes. “God, it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Morgan reassured her. “No, it’s not. But there’s still a way you can help us.”

She perked up, wiping the stray tears away. “Anything. Name it.”

Y/N straightens up and asks, “Where was the party?”

-

“This was the last spot she was seen. The next camera is 100 feet down,” Spencer pointed forward. “Which makes this the abduction zone,”

Y/N walks with him, investigating what the team has found, all thanks to Garcia, Bahni’s last location before she went missing. “Alexandria police searched the buildings, nothing was there.”

“Well, if she got in the car with him, they would have shown up on the camera down the street.”

Her eyebrows knit together, suddenly coming to a stop. “Right, so it would be too risky,” she looked to the camera, and observed the shops behind them. “Just shoving her in the trunk of a car. And out in the open like this? Someone would have been bound to see them,”

“Well, that leaves this.” Spencer gestures to the near alleyway. It’s empty. Secluded. Low chance of anyone seeing the attack.

Spencer and Y/N shared a look, walking further into the alley. His phone went off, signifying that he’s gotten a new message, and she watches him as he fetches his phone out of his coat pocket. She could see the wrinkle between his brows that he would when he was worried about something,

She stops in her tracks and gently places her hand on his bicep. “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, no. My mom’s not doing so well,” Spencer says, biting the inside of his cheek. “The doctors have had to change her medicine 3 times to try to stabilize the schizophrenia,”

Y/N knew about his mom and her conditions. He had mentioned it a few times to her when he would go into her shop during her break. She let out a soft exhale and rubbed languid circles in his arm as a comfort. “Spencer, why didn’t you tell me… or the team?”

“I- I didn’t want to bother you,” he averts his eyes

“You could never bother me,” Y/N’s voice is hushed. “You can never bother any of us, got it? How long has this been going on?”

Spencer’s frown deepens, looking down to the asphalt beneath their feet. “It’s gotten really bad the past few weeks.”

“As soon as we’re done here, you need to go help her. She needs you,”

Y/N watches as his eyes narrow, looking at her this time. “I know. Right now so does Bahni.” he said firmly.

She watches him as he moves to leave the alley, and a frown etched on her face. Y/N knew he would rather keep something to himself than bother anyone about his problems, but this was different. She just wanted to be there for him, to help him, to make sure he doesn't feel alone. He was her friend, after all. Spencer turned to her, looking at her expectantly, and she followed him.

“Alright, let's think this through,” Spencer said.

Y/N added. “Okay, so, if he took her this way, it is a busier street,” they both observed the cars passing. “The traffic was much lighter last night, but it would be a risk to abduct someone in plain sight.”

“So he was able to control a drunk woman and it didn’t look suspicious.”

“He probably just put his arm around her and walked off, and was too drunk to realize she was in danger.” she replied.

“You know, if this was just about the assault, he could have done that back in the alley. I think this gotta be some sort of long-term play,”

“Then he’s been watching Bahni,” she makes eye contact with Spencer. “Looking for the perfect opportunity.”

“Well, he certainly found it last night. She’s a straight-A student who never drinks and rarely goes out.”

Y/N nods, walking back to the alley to inspect it once more. She eyes the spot where the suspect was last documented, trying to think of anything that could possibly help them, and then it hits her. “Spence, tell Garcia to look for offenders with precursor crimes.”

“On it,”

-

The rest of the investigation went by smoothly and the team rescued Bahni successfully, arresting Tom Larson for abduction of Bahni Desai and Sam Burnett for the murder of Kathy Miller in the process. By the end of the night, Y/N stayed behind as the majority of the team left, having to finish paperwork for Hotch. She heard shuffling, and it brought her attention to Spencer sitting on the edge of his desk. Following his gaze, she noticed a framed photo of JJ’s newborn perched on her desk. Then she examined him closely, noticing visible bags under his eyes, and his hair slightly disheveled. She gathers the loose paper into a folder, then places them into the drawer of her desk.

“You were that little once,” Y/N says, catching Spencer’s attention.

“It seems impossible, doesn’t it,” he smiles fondly at the photo. “That we all start out so helpless.”

Y/N got up from her chair, joining Spencer at his desk. “Yeah, well, we all end the same way.”

A moment of looming silence passes between them and Spencer stiffens, suddenly becoming hyper aware of the proximity. It’s not that he didn’t like it. It made him more aware of the flutter and flit of the butterflies in his stomach. That he didn’t like.

Y/N is the first one to break the silence. “You’re gonna call your mom?”

Spencer is brought back to reality by the sound of her voice, and he’s back at ease. Y/N did a good job at doing that; easing him. He furrowed his brows, checking his watch. “It’s not too late there, is it?”

She gently grabs a hold of his wrist to check for herself. “Shouldn’t be,” she whispers.

Y/N let her arm fall to her side. “I wanted to tell you, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“That I was joining the team,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” he counters.

“I didn’t want to intrude. I thought it would’ve been weird if some girl from the coffee shop you go to just suddenly started working with you, but I guess that happened anyway,”

Spencer’s eyes flick down to her. “You’re not just some girl from the coffee shop,” he says slowly. “And if it makes you feel any better, I really enjoyed working with you today.”

Y/N’s lips curled upward, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Hmm, I guess we just make a good team,”

“Guess so,” Spencer says with a soft laugh that makes her heart swell. “You know, I actually didn’t mean to tell Garcia,”

“You didn’t?” She raised her brows.

He shook his head. “She saw your number written on my coffee cup.”

“I see,” she hummed.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence. Y/N scoots away from him slightly, barely realizing the closeness. Her stomach twists and tumbles within her, nerves spiking, trying to find words to add to the conversation. She finally looks at him and she feels heat creeping up her neck when she saw that he was already looking at her. And she finally says, “I guess I should be getting home,”

Spencer followed her movements, trailing behind her as she retreated to her desk. “Would you like a ride home?” she asks.

For a second, it is silent again. It’s clear to her he’s thinking way too into the question. “It’s no bother,” she adds, giving him a kind smile. “I promise.”

She held out her arm just like she did that morning and waited for him to link his arm with hers. He visibly relaxed, hooping his arm beneath hers. This is what he liked about Y/N, what drew him to her. She allowed him to break down his walls when he was with her, and he guesses that that was why he let himself be so comfortable with her because if he was being completely honest, he wouldn’t do this with anyone that wasn’t her. Yeah, he was close with JJ and Penelope, but the connection was just different. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, and for the first time, Spencer Reid didn’t know why.

-

taglist: @eevee0722 @ceeellewrites

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.19 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has been through a lot in his short time in Backwater, but there's always the Dorothy option.

~~*~~

Read ‘The Dorothy Option’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

As much as things changed, they also stayed the same. But they still changed and there wasn’t a damn thing Stretch could do about it. He never could.

After Red cut him loose from the shop for the day, walking across the main street to the movie theater was the same, but the breeze cutting through the sweltering heat was different. A couple days ago, Stretch would have eagerly lifted his face into it, let it dry the sweat rolling from his skull and basked in the cooling effect.

Today it was a reminder that summer was actually ending, and autumn was creeping in one slow step at a time. He’d always liked the fall season since they came to the surface, there was no such thing in the Underground. But now that he knew what was coming with the end of the harvest season, it only made him a little sad. It wouldn’t be too long until the scarecrow pole in all the fields was empty.

Stretch paused outside the theater, looking back towards the shop and past it, to the forest behind it. He was too far away to hear the rustling leaves, still green and vibrant, untouched thus far by the changing season. He could still hear it somehow, like a leftover echo, the memory of that sound loud in his head as he turned back to the theater, the constant chatter of leaves scratching inside his skull.

The sound cut off like a stopped tape recorder as the door swung shut behind him. Igor was right inside, looking a lot like an out of work funeral director in his threadbare suit. He looked up from where he was sweeping dandruffy bits of popcorn into a pile and wordlessly went behind the counter to scoop out two cartons of fresher stuff. The dilapidated marquee over the concession stand had only one title on it. ‘The Wizard of Oz’.

“weren’t you playing this flick just a couple weeks ago?” Stretch asked curiously, handing over a fiver.

“Popular movie around here,” Igor told him, tonelessly. Yeah, okay, movies about Kansas and great farming fields, and wonderous unknown worlds where danger lurked. Wasn’t hard to see how people around Backwater could form a parallel to that, hell, there was probably a shrine to Judy Garland in every house on the street, set up with offerings of corn and tiny water buckets.

He looked down at the popcorn cartons that were sitting on the counter, the smell of fresh melted butter rising, and asked abruptly, “can i get a box of raisinets, too?”

Igor nodded and took back the single bill he’d laid down, the box of candy rattling loudly as he set it on the countertop.

Stretch took it and the popcorn and headed into the theater. What was that about, he wondered. He didn’t even like raisins. Maybe he’d take them back for Red.

The theater was empty, without so much as an abandoned soda cup in the aisles and the floor still swept entirely clean. So much for people loving this movie. Stretch sat down in the far back row with his popcorn and candy to wait.

Right on schedule, the lights went low, the MGM logo came up, and then with a swell of music Kansas appeared in a grainy sepia.

He’d seen the Wizard of Oz before coming to Backwater. The first time he’d seen it, they were still in the Underground and it was hard not to make the odd mental comparisons when they came to the surface. Now that he was here in this town, Stretch related to Dorothy more than ever. A stranger in a strange land, sure, but the scarecrow sidekick was pretty damn specific. Would Edgar Allen even know what the yellow brick road was? He was pretty sure the scarecrow in his life didn’t get out of his fields much, if ever.

Never going anywhere, never really living. He sat out there in fields with corn and crows for company, guardian and prison as one. Stretch wondered if that was as sad as his mind kept trying to make it or was he putting his own pathos on an anthropomorphic personification of a scarecrow. Maybe Edgar Allen was perfectly happy with his lot in life. Hell, maybe he was looking forward to the harvest season and a chance to rest without the corn chattering to him all the time, it was possible.

Thinking that made him feel a little better about the situation and Stretch sank back into his chair and munched on another buttery handful of popcorn.

He was so absorbed in the movie that at first, he didn’t notice the seat next to him was no longer empty. A blood-streaked hand reaching towards the other carton of popcorn was his first clue and Stretch bit back a yelp, soul hammering in his ribcage as he inwardly cursed himself for being so jumpy. Wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this before, loads of times now, it was what he bought the second carton for.

“hey, there,” Stretch said softly to his ghostly companion. “sorry it’s been a few days.”

“That’s all right,” Doris told him, her faint voice barely audible over the strains of ‘We’re off to see the Wizard.

The Tin Man was lamenting his lack of heart by the time Doris spoke again, tentatively and filled with quiet apology. “I’m very sorry, I feel as if I should know your name, but…”

Oh. Stretch closed his sockets briefly. Damn it, Red warned him about this, to not be surprised if she didn’t remember him. He didn’t allow the faint sting of hurt to show. It wasn’t her fault, it was entirely the fault of whoever had blown away part of her head and left her here to haunt a lonely, dilapidated old theater until it was time for her to go wherever ghosts did when they moved on.

Whoever it was that did this to her, stole her life and left her mostly alone in death, Stretch hoped they felt that sin clawing its way up their back long after they went to the hereafter.

“it’s okay, doris,” he said as gently as he could while Judy Garland danced across the screen, “it’s stretch, like a rubber band.”

“Yes! Stretch!” she laughed delightedly. She clapped her gloved hands together like a child. “Yes, that’s it. It was on the tip of my tongue when I saw you brought me popcorn, but I couldn’t quite shake it loose.”

No surprise there, half the time she didn’t have much tongue left.

She leaned in over her carton to take a deep, ghostly breath and twin streamers of blood ran from her nostrils. His appetite for popcorn faded and Stretch fumbled out the box of raisinets. The cheap milk chocolate barely masked the taste of the raisins and he grimaced, chewing gamely even though the texture always made him think of eating bugs. Dirt-flavored bugs in chocolate, who the hell came up with this so-called treat and were they appropriately punished for it. He could only hope.

They sat together in silence, watching the movie, and by the time the trio made it to the Emerald City, Stretch was squirming in his seat. Doris’s appearance broke the distracting spell of the movie and now his thoughts were wandering back to that morning and Edge’s sudden appearance in the store with so much worry on his pale face. Then there was that soft, unexpected kiss, so sweet against his cheekbone, a punctuation mark on the end of a silent paragraph and maybe he needed someone else to give it a read.

“doris, can i ask you something?”

She turned to him, the ruin of her head solidifying into a pretty young woman as she tilted it curiously. “Of course.”

“it’s kinda a long story.”

She folded her gloved hands primly into her lap. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

And that was her real tragedy, wasn’t it. She was tied to this crumbling old theater, unable to go where she needed to. He didn’t know what happened to ghosts once the building they were tied to was gone. But this place was on its last legs and if it closed, the cushions of empty seats rotting away and the silver screen silent, where did she go? He hoped it was someplace nice, a place where she could rest and always be beautiful, without bringing along the gory remains of her last minutes of life.

But they were working on his issues right now. “it’s about a guy.”

Doris brightened visibly and literally, going briefly more solid. “That Edge person you were speaking of before? The other skeleton.”

“yeah,” Stretch said, relieved. He hadn’t been sure how to bring up what they’d talked about before without making her feel bad for not remembering. “see, it’s like this—"

Doris sat and listened as he talked, as enthralled as she’d been when watching the movie. It was like last time when he’d came to ask her about Edgar Allen; she never flickered when she gave him the full weight of her attention.

It might be bad for the theater to have so many empty seats in the house, but it was good for people with the bad manners to talk over the movie. Stretch told her everything, didn’t hold back a thing. About meeting Edge in Red’s living room and his attempted lamp-ocide, about their impromptu lunch at Mama’s. About his brief starring role as little orange biking hood when he ventured to their cabin in the woods, about Frisk. The only thing he didn’t mention was the whole ‘me from another universe’ thing. That was a lot for even him to bend his mind around and his was still in one piece. Doris never interrupted, listened all the way to the end, until Stretch was nearly hoarse as he said, "…so what do you think?"

"Hmm. He certainly sounds charming, in a rude sort of way. My, it makes me think of Pride and Prejudice," she laughed softly. "Although your Mister Darcy showed his true nature far sooner in your tale.”

Thinking of Edge’s hips in a pair of those tight old-school trousers while he danced a waltz was not at all helping the situation and Stretch shoved that thought deep into a mental closet for later.

“but what should i do? he confuses me so much i don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt around him.” He slid down in the chair until his skull was resting on the back. “and then there’s red to think about, he’s done so much for me. he says he’s not worried about his brother, but…” Stretch trailed off and held up his empty hands.

She nodded thoughtfully. “But you don’t want to stir up trouble in their family, especially since it seems they already have some rough waters.”

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, tiredly. He knew something about stormy weather in a sibling relationship. The last thing he wanted to do to Red and Edge was bring in rainclouds of his own.

“I think you should talk to him,” she said at last. “Tell him what you’re feeling. It seems to me he’d listen to you and he wouldn’t…” Doris’s mouth moved but her words faded. Her pretty visage changed gruesomely, a full show of her shattered face and skull, the fragile bits of bone littered across one shoulder while blood filled the ruin of her eye socket.

Stretch swallowed hard and didn’t look away, waiting until she slowly returned to appearance of a lovely young woman who was finishing triumphantly, “…and who knows what will come of it after that!”

Okay, well, half an advice was better than none and he sure wasn’t gonna ask her to repeat herself.

So. Talk to him. Right. Not bad advice, maybe a little generic, but then, Doris didn’t know about his past history when it came to relationships. She also didn’t know that Backwater wasn’t a permanent assignment for him. He wasn’t too sure about bringing that up, not when it affected her, too. Maybe it would be better to let her forget him when he was gone; with her memory, she might not even realize what she was missing aside from the occasional wistful thought about a spare carton of popcorn.

But she wasn’t wrong, either. Much as he wanted to continue skipping through his life of avoidance, there was only one way he was going to get any real answers. Maybe it was time to figure out exactly where he and Edge stood. His sense of balance in life was pretty damn shaky as it was, and Backwater seemed to treat the laws of reality as more like suggestions. Why would the laws of gravity be any different?

Plus, there was another mystery Stretch was looking to unravel and he was already working on a plan for that. He owed some gratitude to a bony skeleton dragon in the woods and Stretch wasn’t keen on owing debts.

Doris folded her hands into her lap primly. “So? What are you going to do?”

“eh,” Stretch let out a little laugh, “something stupid.”

“Oh.” Doris pursed her lips. “Is it safe?”

“nope,” Stretch said cheerfully and poured himself out another handful of chocolate pseudo-bugs. “but i’ve stayed alive so far. may as well press my luck.”

On the screen, Dorothy was repeating her most famous line and he had to agree, there was no place like home. His only problem with it was that he was starting to get a little fuzzy on where exactly that was.

~~*~~

tbc

[ofstoriesandstardust]

Just Friends-Harry Potter

a/n: this takes place in an au where james and lily survived, remus and sirius are happily married with a kid (yes i love wolfstar okay), Lupin was always the DADA professor, and the biggest issue is falling in love with your best friend. Hufflepuff reader. this was 100% inspired by a tik tok I saw. enjoy. 

masterlist | prompt list

warnings: sort of angsty

word count: 2,558

You had been best friends with Harry for as long as you could remember. You two were only less than a month apart, but Harry never failed to remind you he was *technically* older. Your dads, Sirius and Remus, had stayed friends with James and Lily Potter following graduation from Hogwarts and after the war had ended, the two couples raised their kids side by side. You and Harry had learned how to play Quidditch together, got into trouble together, and had so many sleepovers, it’s almost like you were siblings. You both received your Hogwarts letter together, went wand shopping together, and as you began your journey on Platform 9¾, you weren’t so frightened knowing you had your best friend next to you. On the train, you met Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and you knew in that moment, you and Harry had met two more to join the friendship. You watched as Hermione got sorted in Gryffindor, and you smiled briefly at your Dad as you sat on the stool, ready for the hat to tell you that you’d be following your dad’s legacy into the house of bravery. So when the Sorting Hat announced you as a Hufflepuff, the shock on both Harry’s face along with your Dad’s was evident. The house clad in yellow cheered for you as you took a seat at their table. You watched with disappointment as both Harry and Ron got sorted into Gryffindor. However, your fears of being left behind were forgotten, when the trio joined you for breakfast the following morning. When you asked why Harry would rather sit with you than his new housemates, he simply shrugged and said “I like you better anyways”. 

And so it was. You and Harry went through life at Hogwarts together, different houses and all. You were still there to cheer each other on for every Quidditch match, even when you were both playing against each other. You went to Hogsmeade with each other, and spent every Christmas together, even as your celebrations grew larger to include the Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger family. As you went into your fourth year, however, you began to realize that you looks at Harry lingered a little longer, you got butterflies every time he smiled at you, and you always longed to be near him. You thought you had been good at hiding your feelings, but all it took was the Portkey trip to the Quidditch World Cup before Cedric Diggory, captain of your Quidditch team, was on to you. Hermione and Ginny weren’t that far behind him either. But you knew that Harry had a thing for Cho Chang, and even if he didn’t, you had grown up together. All he would ever see you as was just a friend, just a sister. As the Yule Ball neared closer, you were left without a date, secretly holding out hope Harry would ask you. But, alas, he didn’t, and you were stuck going dateless. As the night progressed, you busied yourself dancing with your Hufflepuff friends, ignoring the group of Gryffindors. Eventually though, you pulled yourself away from your friends to grab a drink. As you made your way over to the refreshments, you were met by Harry. You smiled at him, noting how handsome he looked in his dress robes. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He said, taking your hand. 

You tried to swallow your butterflies as you choked out a “Thanks. You look good too.” He let go of your hand and you tried to be disappointed at the sudden lack of warmth. “Where’s your date?” You asked, looking around the Great Hall for her. He shrugged. 

“No clue. Yours?”

You sighed and turned back to the refreshments. “Didn’t get asked. It’s okay though. I’m having a lot of fun with my friends.” 

“Well, uhm, in that case, could I possibly.. steal you for a dance?” Your eyes widened as you realized what he was asking. You nodded, not trying to seem too eager. Cedric gave you a thumbs up from across the room, and you rolled your eyes. Harry led you out on to the dance floor, and as you danced, you became surprised at how good he was at dancing. As the dance came to an end, you didn’t want to let go. Just as you were about to open your mouth to thank him for the dance, he blurted out “Ron dared me to ask you to dance.” You pulled away, shock seeping through your system. 

“W-what?”

“Ron dared me to ask you to dance. He seems to think... and... we’re just- just friends.” He said, and you had to blink back tears. 

“Right. Just friends.” You said thickly. “Uhm, thanks for the dance. I’m going to call it a night, I think.” You said, turning away from the boy, trying so hard to hide how hurt you were. It was only once you were safely back in your Common Room, that you let the tears fall free. 

-

The next few months passed by in a blur, with the Tournament and Cedric’s win. You and Harry were still friends following the dance, and you both seemed to silently agree to never speak of what had happened that night. But as time continued, you could feel the strain on your friendship. You had fallen in love with your best friend without even realizing it. So, when you began your 5th year, you spoke to Hermione quietly in an abandoned hallway one night on Prefect rounds. “I don’t think Harry and I can be friends anymore.” You said softly. You had been having this thought all summer, because every time you looked at Harry, your heart clenched in pain, and you knew it was all your fault, because you had been stupid enough to fall in love with your best friend. But really, who could blame you? When you looked at him, it was like nothing else mattered. Hermione looked at you curiously. But this was the first time you had spoken those words out loud, and they hurt. 

“He’s your best friend.” 

“Yes, and I went and fell in love with him. ‘Mione, every time I look at him, all I see is what can’t be, because all he will ever see me as is a friend, as his sister. And I can’t- I can’t keep hurting like this.” Hermione stayed silent for a few moments, clearly thinking over her response. 

“Have you considered telling him?” She asked softly. 

“It would ruin everything.” You said flatly. 

“If this what you think will be best for you, then I support that. Ron and I will miss having you around though.”

“You know this doesn’t mean we can’t be friends anymore, right?”

“I know, but if you aren’t friends with Harry anymore, then.. we’ll just see a lot less of you, that’s all.” You took her words in, thinking about how you were going to miss all the late night chess games with Ron, the studying sessions with Hermione, the pranks with the twins, the trips to Hogsmeade with Dean and Seamus, and the time spent in the greenhouse with Neville. The rest of your rounds were quiet, as you knew tomorrow would change everything. 

-

And slowly, things did change. You distanced yourself from the group of Gryffindors, focusing on your team (you had been chosen to replace Cedric as Captain; a success you had celebrated with Harry) and your Prefect duties, along with your studies. And suddenly, you and Harry didn’t talk anymore. When you went home for Christmas, your Dad’s were surprised at how... little you spoke to each other. Remus had been noticing how you began to spend less and less time with Harry and friends over the term but didn’t know what to do or say. On your last night home, you sat in the living room staring into the fire as Remus read a book and Sirius set up a game of Wizarding Chess. “Dad?” You asked softly. Sirius hummed in response, acknowledging your question.  “How did you know when you found the one?” 

He looked up at you. “When I looked at your Dad, it was like nothing else mattered. I knew he would see me through everything, good and bad, life or death, and I knew I’d do the same for him. There was a war raging outside our walls, but even for just a few moments, all that mattered that he was okay, and that he was there with me.” You nodded a few more minutes of silence passed. “Why are you asking kiddo?”

“I was stupid and went and fell in love with my best friend.” Well, might as well admit it to them. “And every time I look at him, all I see is what I can’t have, and everyone always tells me to just tell him, because he probably feels the same, but I’m such a coward-”. 

“Hey, you aren’t a coward. You are one of the bravest people I know, and I’m not just saying that cause you’re my kid.” Sirius said sharply. 

“It takes a lot of courage to be kind, and you’re the kindest person I’ve met.” Remus added softly. “But of course you are, because I raised you.” You laughed a little, a small smile reaching your face. 

“I can be kind and brave and a million other things, and it doesn’t change the fact that he still sees me as his sister.” 

“Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you aren’t honest with him.” Sirius said. 

“If I’m honest with him, I could lose him forever.” 

“You already are.” Remus said. “(Y/N), I used to have all these thoughts about your Dad. About how I would never be good enough for him, how he’d never want me, how we’d be better off not being friends at all. And I almost lost him forever because of it.” You looked up at him. “(Y/N), if we’re speaking about who I think we’re speaking of, he’s a good kid, and even a better friend. He won’t look at you different for being honest with him, especially for a feeling I believe he reciprocates. But you’re gonna lose him forever, if you keep telling yourself it’s best if you stay away.” 

-

Your Dad’s words echoed in your head on the train ride back to school. As you sat in the Prefect compartment with Ron and Hermione, all you could think about was those words. As the compartment emptied as people took turns doing rounds, it left you with Ron and Hermione, and your fellow Hufflepuff Prefect, Ernie, who had long known about your crush on Harry. “I think I’m gonna tell him.” The compartment fell quiet all attention directed at you. You shifted uncomfortably under their shocked gazes. “Unless, you don’t think I should.” 

“Finally!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“Mione!″ You exclaimed and she laughed. 

“Well, it took you long enough.” Ron said. You stared at them dumbfounded and turned to look at Ernie. 

“Remember to invite me to the wedding when you become Mrs. Potter.” Ernie said, joining in the laughter. 

“You sure put a lot of faith in the fact that he’s going to feel the same way.” 

“If Harry doesn’t feel the same way, then I will personally make sure you get an A on your next Ancient Runes essay.” 

“I’m gonna hold you to that Granger.” You said , as laughter broke out through the compartment. Damn, did you hope they were right.

-

You had wanted to speak to Harry tonight, because if you didn’t soon, you felt as though you may throw up. However, he had disappeared after the meal and you trudged solemnly back to your Common Room after a failed attempt to find him in his Common Room. Suddenly, you were being yanked into an abandoned classroom, and you were pretty sure this was how you’d die. You let out a sigh of relief after realizing it was just Harry. Just Harry. A million thoughts and emotions flooded your body that you thought you would be sick. Harry, however, clearly had something he wanted to discuss. “Why haven’t you been speaking to me?” He asked, clearly upset. 

“I- I don’t-”

“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been avoiding me ever since we started school this year. What happened? Is- is it something I did?” The decision to tell him suddenly seemed to fly out the window and you found yourself lying through your teeth. 

“I’ve just been busy Harry.” He sighed in frustration. 

“You know, if you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore, you could’ve at least been honest with me.” You sighed and begin to walk towards the door. “We went from being best friends and now you can’t even look me in the eye. Some friend you are.” He called after you. You felt yourself tear up, and you turned back towards him. 

“You’re damn right I can’t look you in the eye anymore. Because when I look at you, all I see is everything I know I can’t have, everything that I know you’ll never feel.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You don’t get it, do you? I love you, more than just as a friend. I’m in love with you and you have no idea how hard it is to be in love with someone you’ll only ever be just friends with.” Harry just looked at you and so you kept talking because if the silence continued, you thought you’d cry harder. “So I distanced myself from you, because I thought it would make things hurt less, but this hurts more, because I miss you and I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you but I was so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way, which clearly you don’t-”

“Hey, hey, hey, who said I didn’t feel the same way?” Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence. “Remember the Yule Ball? Ron dared me to dance with you because he thought that if I did, I’d admit how I felt. I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“I didn’t want to lose you either.” you said softly. He chuckled. 

“What a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, it seems.” You both stood close together, Harry’s hand on your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears with his thumb. His other hand was on your waist. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded, connecting your lips to his. The kiss was better than you ever thought it would feel, as all those butterflies tripled and it seemed as though everything seemed to stop for those few moments. Harry pulled away after a few moments, careful not to push it. “I’d like to do that a lot more, if you’ll let me.” His forehead rested against yours as he rubbed small circles onto your waist. 

“I’d love to let you do that some more.” You said softly, gazing into his eyes. “I love you.” Something flickered across Harry’s face that you couldn’t quite place. 

“I love you too.” He said, softly, a smile gracing his features. You hugged him tightly, thankful to have your best friend back, but this time, as the person you loved. 

[chidoroki]

Emma - 63194

So, it’s August 22nd, otherwise known as the best day of the month because we get to celebrate Emma's birthday! I feel like she doesn't get enough credit, especially as a shōnen protagonist, probably because she's just a normal kid compared to others with overwhelming powers/magic/quirks/etc, but I think that just makes her feats all the more interesting and amazing. So, here I am, ready to praise the hell out of everything she's done, what she's capable of, and who she is on her special day.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven't read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I'm literally going from start to finish with this.)

This is gonna be one hell of a long post, so here we go.

- She's one of the smartest kids at Grace Field, alongside Norman and Ray, who all get full scores on the house's daily tests, which is by no means a simple task.

- This is thanks to her ability to learn things quickly, which she puts to the absolute best use throughout the entire story.

- She's undoubtedly the most athletic out of the full-score trio, as she can pull off a leap like this with no issue!

- I gotta give her voice actor credit here because her scream at the end of EP1 is simply fantastic.

- She noticed the windows in the house were screwed shut, which reinforced the idea that the kids were merely raised like cattle. (Ray was also aware of this, of course.)

- Suspects the use of tracking devices. (The anime had Norman voicing this realization, so whoever you want to give the credit for this is up to you.)

- Believe me when I say that her acting skills are top-notch.

- She's so good that she was able to control her emotions enough and even regulated her pulse to fool Isabella.

- This! Just all of this. Her crazy ideals, her never-give-up mentality, her ability to stay optimistic and strong despite everything they're up against.. just amazing.

- She always thinks of her family first. (she honestly rarely cries too, now that I think about it.)

- By using what she overheard from the demons at the gate and the “blood tests” Isabella once told her about, Emma was able to figure out where the tracking devices were located on her own. (Yeah, Ray knew of this too, but he kept that info to himself.)

- She then created a situation that allowed her to confirm this and that yes, Isabella is indeed always checking their trackers.

- It was Emma's idea to train the other children by playing tag. Not only did this help them during the escape, but afterwards as well.

- Takes advantage of every opportunity to learn. (also, the strength she has!)

- Amazing learning ability x2 (I'm aware the manga says 10 instead, but still! I bet she could memorize 100 too!)

- She believes in everyone and makes Norman realize that no one in their family is truly bad and that leaving anyone behind, even the “traitor,” could cost them their life.

- She called Ray out on his bluff about him actually being willing to help everyone escape.

- Then confronted Ray about the possibility of him experimenting on the tracking devices of their siblings, thus resulting in their early shipments, which is something Norman didn't even realize, if his surprised expression is anything to go by. (Emma scolds him and hides her anger well, though she only stays mad for like, a minute.)

- She, along with Gilda, notice Isabella disappear every night after 8pm, leading them to assume the house might contain a secret room. They eventually pinpoint where it's located. (Ray suspects such a room must have existed, but wasn't certain.)

- Introduces the boys to William Minerva's books and the morse code bookplates they held, which the trio all know how to decode and understand. (I know Phil pointed them out to her originally and manga Ray was also aware of them, surprise, but..) the hunch she had about the two special books being important guides for them turned out to be true later on after the escape.

- Accepts her mistakes and is quick to apologize when she's wrong.

- Thank you anime for giving us these wonderful lines.

- Has her leg broken and yet she doesn't shed one damn tear. (the horrific sound still haunts me.) Ah, might as well also mention this now, but her theme, 63194, is one of the best songs on the soundtrack.

- Once again caring about others more than herself, as she was ready to destroy her leg/foot even more if it allowed Norman a chance to escape.

- This absolutely amazing moment right here! Easily one of the best panels of her by far!

- Used what she heard from Krone and spent two months hiding her emotions and plans from Isabella. Learning ability & best actress x10.

- Isabella actually believes this. Seriously, someone give Emma an award. Best actress x50.

- Do y'all know how strong physically, mentally and emotionally this girl must be to cut off her own ear? I know she was in a rush to escape while Isabella was busy with the fire, like she literally had about ten seconds (anime) to remove her tracker, but damn! Not once does she ever cry over it either. May I remind you she's only 11!

- Stops Ray's suicide attempt by catching the match, thus burning her palms.

- It was her idea to let the other kids know of the escape, which helped in proceeding with the preparations behind Isabella's back.

- I love Ray x fire jokes as much as the next person, but we all know who the real pyro is. More props to her voice actor again for the scream that follows!

- Successfully carried out Norman's plan and escaped Grace Field with 14 other children.

(post-season one spoilers beyond this point)

- Keeps her cool in dangerous situations, which helps calm down the younger children. Also fairly knowledgeable of the books from Grace Field's library, such as “The Adventures of Ugo,” which came in handy in the demon forest.

- Remains positive and completely hopeful after learning the truth about the demon world they're living in from Sonju.

- It only took three days for her to become proficient enough in archery in order to hunt successfully. She apparently also knows how to use a harpoon (ch49) (but I don't think we ever see that, sadly). Learning ability x20.

- She also didn't panic when she was held at gunpoint. She stayed reasonably calm and forced her way free instead.

- Didn't even flinch when Yuugo's bullet grazed her cheek.

- Can she just get a round of applause, please?

- Emma is just so fearless. Gun to the head? Knife in her face? Doesn't matter. She'll threaten you right back.

- Kudos to her learning ability yet again x50.

- Her quick reflexes and accuracy are phenomenal.

- Of course, cue the talk-no-jutsu skills that every shonen protagonist is undoubtedly skilled with.

- Even Lewis knows at a first glance that our girl is good. Takes a lot to receive praise from this demon.

- Offers herself up as bait to lure the poachers away from the other children.

- Literally cares for anyone, as she helped countless kids she didn't even know during her first hunt at Goldy Pond by keeping them safe.

- Thanks again to her knowledge of the “The Adventures of Ugo” novel, she was able to locate the memory chip for the pen that contains information about Minerva's supporters, the paths to cross over to the human world, Goldy Pond, The Seven Walls and Project Lambda 7214.

- The damn skill she has in handling guns in the matter of two weeks is astonishing.. and she's still only 11.

- Informed the Goldy Pond kids on how to accurately aim for the demon’s center eye, which greatly helped them take out the poacher Nouma.

- She has the audacity to taunt Lewis right back and I love her for it. She also offered to stay behind in order stall Lewis on her own, despite knowing he's the most dangerous of the poachers.

- When the talk-no-jutsu towards the crazy demon fails, she summons a wide array of guns against him, because why the hell not, right?

- She once admitted that she was no good at reading an opponent's moves, but after watching many people in her life who are skilled in such a way (Norman, Ray, Isabella, Krone) and thanks to the knowledge she recently leanred about Goldy Pond, she manages to catch Lewis off guard and electrocute him. Her level of adaptability is wonderful. Learning ability x100.

- Can we all just take a moment to obsess over Emma's Goldy Pond outfit because it is fucking fantastic! She just looks so damn good! (I owe Demizu my life for this.)

- Actually manages to get Yuugo to call her by her real name after he was so adamant to no learn them or get attached to the kids.

- This bright smile adds five years onto my life.

- She’s the first to notice the disadvantage demons have with regeneration, which ultimately leads to their winning strategy against Lewis.

- She somehow survives this. (plot-armor, I know, but goddamn!)

- Now presenting, the exact moment I fell in love with Emma, because holy fucking shit! Not only does she survive getting stabbed like that, but she gets back up and continues fighting! Can I get a big ol' HELL YEAH!!

- She busts out the pistol with the trick shots she's kept hidden this entire time until the very right moment, effectively taking Lewis by surprise and granting Yuugo a clear shot to his middle eye as the demon stands defenseless against the shower of bullets.

- Emma's influence over everyone else is so powerful. We see it many times throughout the story, but because of her, they all accept that the impossible is possible, everyone is worth saving, and to never give up. This is especially amazing to witness in scenarios with Ray, since Krone once said that his weakness was that he's "a little quick to give up. He makes a decision fast but abandons other just as quickly."

- Because of everyone's assistance, they were able to destroy Gold Pond and rescue over 60+ kids, which probably wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Emma presence at the hunting ground in the first place.

- Not to discredit Ray, because I'm sure he did a fine job of cauterizing Emma's wounds, but she did survive a day and a half with a low blood count. (She was unconscious, sure, but her body didn't give up either.)

- Finally wakes up from her coma a month later and the first thing she's concerned with is the safety of everyone else.

- I swear, this girl has a heart of gold, but we knew that already.

- Doesn't let her missing ear hinder her at all, just adjusts how it would function normally in her daily life.

- Memorized the many maps found in the shelter's reference room alongside her siblings. Learning ability x125.

- She's capable of taking out three wild demons in the matter of seconds. Accuracy and speed on point still on point.

(Ah post-timeskip, just a little over halfway done now.) - Will not hesitate to jump in and save someone, regardless of the danger to herself.

- No 13 year-old should have this amount of pressure on their shoulders, but I'll be damned, she handles this and so much more well.

- She pushes aside her own anxieties over losing the shelter, those two boys and possibly Yuugo and Lucas and decides to lift the spirits of everyone else instead.

- Y'all see this demon? Do you think she cares? Not one bit! All that matters is her family's safety and she'll do anything to preserve that. We stan one reckless girl.

- Doesn't cry over the deaths of Yuugo and Lucas (at least, I don't think she does? She appears more frustrated here than upset.)

- She can pick up on how others are feeling, even if they're trying to hide it. (also does so several times to Norman (ch30, 128,153) and even to Yuugo (ch64))

- Is the first to volunteer to sneak into the mass production farm guarded by demons in order to retrieve the medicine Chris needs.

- Honey, how are you not screaming for you life right now?

- Official translation has Hayato saying “The Boss is saying he wants to meet you,” but I feel like this unofficial one here conveys the exchange between Emma and Oliver better. Their large family has children who are older and more experienced as a leader than Emma, but they all choose to follow her.

- Just a casual reminder of how strong our girl is. (She even beats out Ray and Don in terms of strength too.)

- I probably only find this impressive because I love my sleep, but she wakes up at 6 in the morning. Always. Without fail. For thirteen years. Then panics the one time she actually oversleeps.

- She knows every life is precious, no matter who or what they are. Also doesn’t want to follow Norman's civil war plan, which is good, because damn that's a bit extreme. Doing so would only create more fear and hatred.

- Say it louder.

- LOUDER!

- Agrees to go and find out more about The Seven Walls in hopes to stop Norman's plan, despite the many risks. Can she really arrive at TSW? What's actually there? Could she even make a new promise? Will she be able to return afterwards? There's a bunch of unknowns, but that won't stop her. (“Simple?” “It is simple.” That line kills me every time.)

- TSW proved to be very mentally exhausting but she and Ray did survive all the craziness they faced while trapped there.

- Due to her unique way of thinking, she managed to remain sane and was able to figure out how TSW worked, which is something even Ray couldn't quite comprehend.

- Because of that, she was then able to finally meet the bastard demon god.

- Thus allowing her to..successfully.. make a new promise. (Ahhh)

- Best actress x500 (damn damn damn!)

- Honestly, have they practiced this before or is her athleticism just that superior? Either way, she never fails to surprise me.

- Isn't afraid to speak the truth and put one of her best friends in their place.

- But manages to (somehow) forgive him, after his plan successfully killed the queen, the demon royals and poisoned the capital city, which forced the nearby demons to degenerate.

- Her optimism knows no bounds.

- She & everyone else were able to infiltrate Grace Field which is not only guarded by demons but the Ratri clan as well.

- Just how? I know your athletic but wow!

- The woman who shipped out so many of Emma's siblings and broke her leg now holds a gun to her face and yet our girl doesn't look panicked in the slightest. Girl, how are you so brave?! Holy shit. There's no fear in those eyes, only anger.

- AND she ends up forgiving her! After learning Isabella betrayed Peter and realizing that all the mothers and sisters are also fighting for their freedom, Emma gladly accepts Isabella's assistance. (Best mother daughter moment I've ever seen.)

- The entire talk-no-jutsu she pulls on Peter in ch172. She's angry, even downright hates the Ratri, but she refuses to get revenge for all the trouble they've caused to her family and friends by killing Peter. She admits the clan's actions can never be forgiven, but she still shows sympathy because she knows they were also suffering due to the world and roles they were born into.

- We find out that Emma worded the promise perfectly which allows every human raised as food to cross over into the human world. Truly thinking of everyone as per usual.

- She kept her promise to Phil and came back for him and the rest of the children she had originally left behind at Grace Field.

- Again, showing no hesitation to save someone she barely knows, even when unarmed.

- Pretty sure I was in literal tears at this point of the chapter, so kudos to her for making me bawl my eyes out. Aahh, she's just so forgiving and her heart is so big.

- Best actress x9999 (*screaming internally*)

- SHE LITERALLY SACRIFICES HER OWN HAPPINESS SO EVERYONE IMPORTANT TO HER CAN LIVE IN PEACE AND BE HAPPY!!

- She loves her family so deeply that even without her memories, her heart still remembers them. (it makes me cry too, hun, it's okay.)

- She has a heart literally made of solid gold. Of course she can't refuse the bastard's reward, but still accepts it with a smile on her face knowing that all humans and demons, of the present and future, can now live freely without any fear. She completely ended the tragedy that persisted the last 1,000+ years and changed the world like she set out to do back in ch4. Sweetheart please, you're anything but selfish.

- She has the most precious family on the planet. Her influence was so strong that they searched endlessly for two years just to see her again, by never giving up or doubting her words back in ch178. They're beyond happy when they do finally find her and are a bunch of sweethearts who accept her no matter what.

- Ahh, I just really love Emma okay? She's honestly one of the few protagonists I actually enjoy. Happy Birthday again to this all-around amazing girl and I can't wait to see her in action in future anime seasons!!

(congrats, you've made it to the end. i apologize if i missed any other moment worth mentioning, but yeah, i think this is enough for now.)

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Four: War (Gladiolus x Reader) Chapter Seven

Gladio and (Y/n) headed to Tostwell Grill, which was tucked away in the corner of the marketplace. They sat down at one of the tables and looked over the menu. It was small and only two dishes were being served.

Once reading the ingredients for each of the dishes, the Horseman's brows knitted together. "Neither one of these are breakfast foods. One's a stew and the other's skewers."

"You discriminating against food now?" Gladio asked.

"No..."

"Then pick one."

War told the man tending to their table what she wanted followed by Gladio. While waiting for their meals, the girl crossed her legs and arms as she focused on the shield across from her. "So, what did you want to ask about the nightmare?"

"Oh, right." Gladio recollects what he saw in the nightmare the night before. "After you're killed, water floods the throne room. What's with that?"

"As you're aware, I was also able to call upon the Astrals after earning their favor. Before Gaius could claim Vanaheim for Niflheim, I used my dying breath to summon Leviathan. My final wish was for her to drown the entire kingdom to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. That is the reason why Vanaheim now lies at the bottom of the ocean."

"Damn..." The brute mumbled.

"Was there anything else?" She asked.

"No, only the water was new."

Their food arrived. (Y/n) savored the stew while Gladio ravished the skewers. Halfway through cleaning his plate, he asked, "So, exactly how long has it been since you've ate?"

She lowered her spoon. "You trying to figure out exactly how old I am?"

Gladio picked up on her playful tone and chuckled. "Someone's getting better at messin' around. But in all seriousness, no."

"It's been almost eight months now since my last meal," she confessed. "My sisters and I might not need to eat, but we throw these huge feasts whenever it's one of our birthdays. It's more for fun than satisfaction."

"A huge feasts with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Sounds interesting."

"It's just a normal feast. There's nothing special about it," War stated.

"To you it might not be, but it does to me," Gladio replied. "Sitting at a table with immortals sounds like a helluva feast."

(Y/n) took another spoonful of stew, enjoying the flavor. She noticed Gladio staring at her and lowered her spoon. "Why're you staring at me?"

"Tryna figure somethin' out," he answered.

"And what's that?"

"Who that guy you were talkin' to yesterday was."

"Guy...?" War muttered. "You mean at the outlook?"

"Yeah. You seemed awfully close. Don't tell me you found a boyfriend."

Her eye twitches. "...Are you serious? Did you just hear what came out of your mouth and how ridiculous it sounded? Or do I need to repeat it myself?" She pushed the bowl of stew away. "For your information, that "guy" yesterday was the daemon king himself. He's not my "boyfriend." He happens to be the powerful immortal that resurrected me."

"Well, that explains the horns..." Gladio murmured.

"Haven't you been listening to me? I told you I don't trust mortals." She stood up, anger bubbling inside her veins. "Besides, my personal affairs are none of your business even if I have shared some small details here and there." War left the eatery in order to keep her calm.

Gladio quickly paid the bill and followed after her. He caught up with the Horseman and walked beside her. "Y'know, not all mortals are like Gaius."

(Y/n) stopped in the middle of the marketplace. "I'm well aware of that. You and the others have proven that, but I still have trust issues. The one job I gave you is to show that there is someone on Eos I can trust. Or do I need to find another mortal?"

"Trust me, I can do it," he confidently claimed. "Just wait and see, firecracker."

War pulled up her hood, hiding her face from the shield. "I'm counting on you, Gladio."

The brute was able to catch a glimpse of the smile she was trying to conceal. He wanted to tease her, but decided not to anger her.

The duo walked around Lestallum for a little while, chatting about various topics. Gladio was able to learn a little more about (Y/n) and vice versa. Their conversation was sidetracked when they were soon joined by a bubbly Prompto. The blonde excitedly told them how he ran into Famine and she spent some time with him.

At hearing the news, Gladio glances towards War. "You and your sisters are everywhere."

"We are just trying to do our job," she replied. "These monsters are not easy to find as they are much more intelligent than daemons or normal beasts."

"Guess you wouldn't be having so much trouble if they were, right?" Prompto asked.

"I would be back in the Inner Sanctum by now if they were pretty dumb. Sadly, they're not."

"Well, now you've got us to help you," Gladio stated.

"Oh, I don't think so. It's best you and the others stay as far away from these monstrosities as possible. They're here on Eos because they crave the blood of humans. You all would be a feast for the bunyips and the dullahan."

"I'd rather not be eaten alive by one of those things..." Prompto muttered.

The trio returned to the Leville to check on Ignis and Noctis. Once doing that, they discussed their next plan. Deciding to rest just a little longer, they would remain in Lestallum for the time being.

<-------------<<<<<

Several days later, Gladio told everyone what was on his mind. After having some time to think it over, he wanted to escort his sister to Cape Caem. They left the Leville and headed to the gas station located on the main road. Iris, who was kind enough to fill the Regalia's tank, was waiting for them. When she counted how many people there were, a worried expression appeared on her face. "There's six of us and only five seat."

"Don't worry. (Y/n)'s got a ride," Gladio said, gesturing to the redhead.

Iris looked toward the Horseman. "Are you sure you don't want to ride with us? I can always sit on Gladdy's lap."

"No, it's fine. You all go on ahead. I'll catch up with you in a short bit," she responded. The five climb into the car and depart from Lestallum.

(Y/n) called upon Ares, the flaming steed appearing from a thicket of fog. She promptly mounted his back and entangled her fingers in his mane. The flames danced around her hands, the heat causing her no injury. "C'mon, Ares, let's catch up." The horse neighed, taking off down the road.

Within a few seconds, she caught up with the Regalia. Although she was familiar with the way to Cape Caem, she wanted to stay with the others in case they needed her. Ares ran alongside the car, easily keeping pace with it. Due to the wind whistling in her ears, she couldn't hear what the others were talking about. However, she did catch Iris staring at her in astonishment. The young Amicitia wasn't aware of her status as Horseman until now. From the grin she saw on Gladio's face, she figured he was telling his sister all the details.

(Y/n) reverted her attention back to the road ahead. She kept her eyes forward, making sure Ares kept his distance from the car to avoid an accident. However, her attention was diverted when they were halfway to Old Lestallum. The rancid scent of decaying flesh and the tinge of iron she assumed was from blood reached her nose. Eyes narrowing, she looked around in a desperate attempt to locate the source of the odor. Since it was nearly noon, it was impossible a daemon could emanate such a stench. She also knew no beast indigenous to Eos smelt in such a manner.

Suddenly, Ignis slammed on brakes. Ares followed suit, slowing down and stopping beside the vehicle. War wondered what was the problem until she saw it. Her eyes widen before narrowing into a glare when recognizing the creature blocking the road. "The dullahan..."

"A wh-what?" Prompto swallowed in fear.

"A headless horseman," she simplified.

"Didn't know you had a creepy, headless brother," Gladio teased.

She ignored the shield, her (e/c) eyes glued to the dullahan. It didn't move towards them, but it was wielding its spine as if it was ready to attack. It whipped its spine like a whip, its horse neighing in response. While examining the monster's appearance, she noticed something was missing. "Where's its head?"

"Didn't you just say it was a headless horseman?" Noctis retorted.

"I did, but dullahans always travel with their heads. Something feels off..."

Prompto couldn't tear his fearful gaze away from the menacing creature. "I-Is it really a big deal that it doesn't have its head with it?"

"Without the head, I can't kill it," War stated.

"What will your plan of attack be, (Y/n)?" Ignis inquired.

"This thing has killed and I can smell the corpses. I will keep it occupied and pray to the Astrals I'll be able to find the head," she proclaimed. "You focus on escaping."

"You're not seriously gonna fight that thing all by yourself, are you?" Gladio asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I am." She summoned a bow, a single arrow materializing from the crimson crystal shards. Firing the arrow, she targeted the dullahan's steed. The monster used its spine whip to deflect the arrow with ease. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, War materialized another arrow and nocked it. At the same time, she dug her heels into Ares' sides to urge him forward. She released the arrow and it impaled the dullahan's chest plate. Seeing she had its full attention when it charged towards her, she shouted for Ignis to drive away. The advisor didn't hesitate and drove off.

The dullahan used its whip to try and grab the Horseman. However, Ares manages to dodge and protect his rider. (Y/n) thanked him before commanding him to run away from the main road. The horse did as she commanded, running away from the main road. The monster followed on its own black, hazy steed. Knowing the dullahan was nothing without its horse, she knew fighting it on-foot was out of the question unless it willingly abandoned its steed.

"C'mon, you bastard," (Y/n) hissed, glaring over her shoulder at the dullahan. Ares led them to a large, open area where there was enough room to ride around. The Horseman switched out her bow for a pair of daggers as she and the monster faced off. Urging her steed to charge directly at it, she yelled his name and he took off. Pushing herself into a crouching position on Ares' back, she waited for the perfect opportunity to attack.

The dullahan charged forward, meeting the Horseman and her steed halfway. It used its whip to swipe at the redhead, but it missed its mark when she dodged the attack and leapt onto the dullahan. She tackled it off its horse and buried one of her daggers into its chest plate.

"Where's your damn head, you bastard?" She growled, jamming her second dagger into its shoulder. A black substance dribbled from its wounds, cascading down its body. Once it dropped onto the grass, the luscious green turned into a decaying brown.

The dullahan chuckled demonically. It grabbed its whip and targeted the redhead. It pierced her side deeply, causing her to shriek in pain. She promptly summoned a javelin and plunged it through the monster's abdomen, pinning it to the ground. Shakily, she pushed herself off the dullahan and got to her feet. Yanking the tip of the spine whip out of her body, she tossed it aside. Blood soaked her left side and dripped to the ground.

Before War could strike again, the dullahan ripped the javelin out of its abdomen and stood up. It stood up and summoned its horse. It made a quick escape, but (Y/n) immediately took chase. She pressed a hand against her wound, knowing it would take more time to heal since the monsters from the Inner Sanctum were more powerful than an average daemon or beast. Following the monster, she fought against the wooziness she felt from the blood loss and focused on her target. "Show me where you've hidden your head, you bastard..."

<-------------<<<<<

A couple days later after their infiltration of Fort Vaullery and exploring Malmalam Ticket, the royal retinue and Iris were now resting at Kellebram Haven. Prompto was showing Iris the many photos he's taken since she's joined them. After looking through his new pictures, the blonde came across a picture he took of (Y/n) when they first met.

"Oh, it's (Y/n)!" Iris cheered. "Do you have any more pictures of her?"

"I've got tons!" Prompto flipped through various more photos before coming across more with the Horseman as the main subject. Most of them were of her fighting or chatting with Gladio.

Noticing the pattern, the girl asked, "Wait, does Gladdy get along with (Y/n)?"

"I guess you could say that," he answered.

Flipping to the next picture, Iris gaped in amazement when she saw (Y/n) wielding an array of weapons. "Oh, wow! She's so cool!"

Noctis, who'd been playing King's Knight on his phone, looked up at hearing Iris praise the Horseman. "Y'know, we haven't seen her in a while."

Prompto lowered his camera with a concerned expression. "It's been two days. Shouldn't she be back by now?"

"She's immortal. How much trouble could she possibly be in?" Gladio remarked. "Besides, she mentioned she couldn't kill that thing unless she found the head. She's probably looking for it as we speak."

"Or she's in trouble," he replied.

"I hope she's okay," Iris mumbled. "I still owe her for getting me, Jarred, and Talcott out of the city."

"Maybe we should check on her," Prompto suggested. "You've got that orb she gave you, right, big guy? Summon her!"

"And possibly fuck up her entire mission?" The brute scoffed. "I don't think so. I'll be the headless one if that happened."

"Maybe you could try after dinner?" Iris asked.

Gladio wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was worried about (Y/n). He'd already been tempted to summon her. However, he fought the urge knowing she was trying to focus on the dullahan. But now seeing he wasn't the only one concerned about her, his temptation returned and he wouldn't be able to stave it off this time. "Fine, I'll try after dinner."

Ignis was already ahead of the group. He'd been working on dinner for the past fifteen minutes and it was almost done. Once the food was done, he passed out plates to everyone. They ate the delicious meal around the fire as the chill of night crept around them. The sound of daemons soon filled the dark void of the night. Their shrill cries caused an uneasiness to wash over the group.

Iris lifted her head, gazing out into the darkness. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I don't understand how you all can ignore it."

"It took a while, but now we all sleep through it," Noctis said.

"It still freaks me out from time to time," Prompto confessed. He put his plate down and nearly jumped out of his seat when an earsplitting shout came from a daemon close by. "Okay, that one definitely freaked me out."

"It was quite unusual," Ignis stated.

"Our daemon reflector isn't here at the moment," Gladio said.

"Daemon reflector?" Iris parroted.

"(Y/n)," he replied. "Most daemons are afraid of her. Whenever she's around, nights are quieter and it's easier to fall asleep."

"Now that you mention it..." Iris mumbled. "No daemons attacked us the night we were heading to Lestallum. I thought we were just lucky."

"At least she's not a daemon magnet," Noctis commented. "Not sure how I'd feel about that..."

"I'd welcome it. It'd give us more opportunities to train," Gladio said. "It'd also make our hunts easier. Speaking of hunts, you said (Y/n) took down that naga without touching it, blondie."

"Oh, yeah!" Prompto cheered as he remembered witnessing the daemon turn into a pile of ash. "I don't know what exactly happened, but it's like (Y/n) just stared into its eyes and it turned to stone. Then it disintegrated into a pile of ash."

"That sounds...scary," Iris said.

"I was freaked out, but it was kinda cool to watch."

"I wonder what she did," the young Amacitia hummed in curiosity.

"Not sure. She hasn't said," Gladio explained. He fished the summoning orb out of his pocket, remembering what he promised to do after they finished dinner. He muttered her name and saw the orb gleam slightly. After some time, he learned that faint glimmer of light meant it worked.

Looking around the haven, he searched for War. The others followed suit and Iris was the first to spot the Horseman a short distance away. "There she is!"

Everyone glanced in the direction the girl was staring and saw the redhead slowly approaching the haven. Gladio noticed something was wrong while watching her stumble forward. Her form was hunched over and she was having difficulty standing on her own two legs. He stood from his seat, putting the orb back into his pocket. "(Y/n)?"

War didn't answer his call as she dragged her body towards the haven. Her hand was pressed against her side in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Her vision was splotchy and she was barely conscious. She managed to lift her head when hearing someone approach. Seeing it was Gladio, she tried to speak. "Sorry..." she mumbled weakly as her legs gave our underneath her. Her vision turned to black as she fell unconscious.

[lettersnorth]

The Tempest

The delicate copper cog slipped from Aislinn’s hand and went skipping across the polished surface of the lab table, colliding with a variety of nuts, screws, wiring and disembodied mammet parts that lay scattered across the table like land masses on a map. There was a small, childish part of her that wanted to sweep the entire project, loose mammet limbs and all, into the waste bin. A recurring thought that always awaited at the end of her rope. I don’t want to discover the cleverest way to go about this, let someone else do it. 

Instead, she stilled. She breathed. Her countenance remained tranquil even if just below the surface was anything but. It could be read in every tensely drawn line of her body, of hands that rarely ceased in their motion now gone unnaturally immobile. It wasn’t the mammet. She knew that. The broken mammet had simply been a project to keep her occupied while she sorted through the real issue. 

Letting go a breath in the quiet of her laboratory, she reached again for the wayward cog and got back to work. These early morning hours were the most peaceful. The carousing of the denizens of Limsa Lominsa’s Mists had died down, those flush with drink and good company having stumbled their way to a bed bells ago. The sun had yet to peek its head over the ocean’s horizon and the only sound, the easy swish of waves washing ashore, drifting in through the windows.  

Aislinn had found the poor mammet, a cheerful dog that was for one reason or another dressed in squire’s attire, in a trash heap down by the docks. It had looked so pitiful there. Forlorn and forgotten. Old habits are hard to break and before she knew it she had pulled the thing from the heap and carried it home. In Ul’dah she had dug things from the trash to fix up by necessity. A way to make a little bit of extra gil. Now it was simply because she could. Surely the mammet puppy had brought someone a bit of joy at some point and now, for want of a few spare parts, it had been abandoned. She always had a soft spot for lost causes. Maybe because she could relate. 

Head bent over her intricate task, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her teeth, she let the work soothe her earlier flaring temper. That had been happening more and more lately. What was wrong with her? She prided herself on being able to remain level-headed and calm no matter the situation. It was a hard won lesson Ul’dah had ground into her and it had served her well. But now…

Momori’s report had landed on Heartwood’s doorstep earlier in the week. And as if the experience in Coerthas hadn’t been enough to convince, at least the trio that had done the work, that Heartwood was in the middle of something deep and off the map, her report certainly would. The device the lalafell called ‘the Helm’ was a gods-damned Allagan artifact. Allag. The Empire that had fallen under the weight of its own hubris and heedlessly pushed the boundaries of aetherochemistry until it nearly tore the world apart. That Allag. 

Aislinn couldn’t deny there were times she daydreamed about the technologically advanced society and how it must have been at its peak. Scientific discovery coming quick, one after another. Breakthrough after breakthrough. All in the name of a utopia where man had learned to harness aether for the good of all. Yes, well. It hadn’t quite worked out that way in the end, had it? Yet another cautionary tale that spoke to the fact that just because a person could do something, doesn’t necessarily mean they should. 

Allagan artifacts, Garleans, sky pirates. All of this was trouble enough. But not enough to shake Aislinn’s formidable concentration. Not enough to cause her to want to sweep an entire mammet to the floor in a fit. No. Contained in Momori’s report was her encounter with the Yellow Jackets of Aleport’s gaol and her subsequent talk with Aiswyda. The evidence of the aetheric snapshot Aislinn had taken of the uncanny look-alike as she bore down on the Highlander, all wind-whipped anger and fists, had given the Yellow Jackets pause. A seed of doubt as to whether they truly held the right woman behind bars. But ultimately it had not been enough to secure the Seawolf’s release. Stubborn bastards. 

Reading over the report in the Company war room, several of those gathered had shifted uncertain glances Aislinn’s way. Momori had never hidden her true purpose in this endeavor. To get the Helm. Neither had Aislinn. To free Aiswyda. So far the two goals had comfortably co-existed and made for a prickly alliance. But if ever they diverged, everyone knew there would be no question which direction Aislinn would go. 

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (11)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.1k (this chapter), 35.5k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil hates taking public transit anywhere that he hasn't memorized a route and the inevitable issues with it, but he's not about to ask his parents for a ride to the city. In fact, he ducks out of the house with nothing but a 'be back later' tossed over his shoulder. His stomach is making unhappy noises the entire ride to the Rusholme area, and he regrets not putting a cereal bar or something in his bag after his parents went to sleep. He supposes that he could have braved breakfast and his parents' disappointment, but he desperately did not want to deal with that so early in the morning.

He's grumpy from lack of caffeine and food by the time he tumbles into the coffee shop, but he can't help his mouth from curving upwards when he sees Dan behind the counter. They're handling a customer, but their face lights up when they make eye contact with him, like they thought he wouldn't show. Phil gives them a little wave and drops his stuff on an armchair by the cozy fireplace. He's planning on being here for a while, he might as well stake his claim on the good seat now.

The fact that the chair has an unobstructed view of the counter isn't on purpose, but Phil can't pretend he isn't happy about it. He takes his jacket and scarf off, waiting for the stranger to go away so he doesn't have to hem and haw over his breakfast choice with an audience.

Phil should probably be using this time to look at the drinks on the chalkboard menu or the fresh pastries in the case, but he's too distracted.

It's been a day. A single day. Less, even, since it hasn't been a full 24 hours. And yet his eyes keep drifting back to Dan like it's been ages since he's seen them. Their eyes are lined thickly with what looks like black ink and their lips are shiny, but their face is otherwise bare. Phil wouldn't be able to clock the lack of makeup at all if he hadn't woken up beside Dan's clean face and accidentally memorized it.

Finally, the customer leaves, and Phil is free to approach the bar without feeling like an idiot. He gives Dan a sheepish sort of grin as he sidles up, only now looking at his options.

"Morning," says Dan, in that vaguely cheerful customer service voice. They push their sleeves up to their elbows like they need to be doing something with their hands, and Phil gets distracted again by the new shade on their nails and the shape of their forearms. "What can I get you?"

"Uh," Phil says eloquently. "Coffee. And food?"

Dan's smile twists into a smirk and they look like they're barely holding back laughter. "Funnily enough, we do those things here. Do you know what kind of, uh, coffee and food you want?"

It takes all of Phil's self control not to flip Dan off or tease them right back. He wouldn't bother holding back, normally, but there's a man with a 'manager' nametag working the espresso machine and the last thing he wants is to get Dan in trouble. Phil turns his attention to the menu again. He's retaining just as much nothing as he was before. "Uh," he says again. After a moment of thought that lasts far too long, Phil ends up shrugging. "Surprise me?"

"Sure," says Dan. Their eyes are sparkling, and Phil finds that just as hard to look away from as the glitter that had been on their face before.

"I'm kinda lactose intolerant," Phil informs them, just for something to say that he doesn't have to think too hard about. "And I like sugar. Like a lot."

"I can work with that." Dan shoos him away with their big hands, still smirking. "Go on, go sit down. If we get busy back here I'll call for you, but I can probably just bring it over."

Phil glances at the manager. "You sure?"

Dan follows his gaze, brow furrowed in slight confusion, and then rolls their eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Gabe doesn't give a shit if we talk to our friends as long as we get our work done. Right, Gabe?"

"Whatever," Gabe says, almost monotone in how little he seems to care.

"It's fine," says Dan. "Go. Sit."

Phil doesn't have much of a choice but to go take up camp by the fireplace. He takes out his phone and checks in with his friends to make sure they got home alright and to subtly see if any of them are mad at him. He doesn't like the idea of them feeling like the whole weekend was a bust - even if it kind of was - and he likes the idea of them being irritated with him even less. He's having enough trouble with the reality of his parents being unhappy with his choices.

The last thing he needs is for the other important people in his life to be feeling the same way. He fields PJ's concern and Chris' flirting and Sophie's helpful links to sleep paralysis theories with relative ease. He doesn't care about his own problems with the Wilkins place or the situation he's put himself in as much as he cares about what his best friends think.

The fact of the matter is, Phil knows he can't do this forever. He doesn't need his parents telling him that. He likes what he does, more often than not, but it's getting harder and harder to keep pushing himself into a routine that he might have outgrown by now.

He has so many ideas. There are so many stories he wants to tell and far too many different ways he could be telling them. He wonders if he keeps going back to other peoples' ghost stories because it's easier, safer, than putting innermost parts of himself out there for public consumption. Luckily, his friends aren't pushing him yet. He imagines it's only a matter of time before they notice that he's just going through the motions.

Even so, he doesn't like hearing things from his parents about his wasted potential. He doesn't need them to say what he's already thinking about all the time.

"Hey, you still on Earth?"

Phil starts a bit and almost drops his phone. Dan is standing there, setting a steaming mug and a cinnamon roll on the rickety end table at Phil's elbow. They smile at him and he smiles back, just a little embarrassed about zoning out so drastically.

"Sorry," he says, immediately reaching for the mug. "Haven't had coffee yet."

"What a tragedy," says Dan.

"It is," Phil insists. He takes a big gulp of the drink, ignoring Dan's protests that it's too hot. The mix of chocolate and cocoa hit his tongue and probably scald it, but Phil isn't about to start waiting for his drinks to cool down now. He hums happily and fits both hands around the mug to leech its warmth. "Oh, this is good."

He doesn't think he's imagining how pleased Dan looks by the compliment, but he manages to half convince himself that they're just proud of their barista-ing skills.

"Thanks," Dan says happily. They shift their weight from one foot to the other and pull their sleeves back down. Phil wonders if they're actually getting warm and then cold again, or if they just don't know how to act when their hands aren't busy with something. Phil notices that the shop is more or less dead - there's a trio of students with earphones in and textbooks open by the window and Gabe obviously continues to exist behind the counter, but it's not at all the same vibe as spending a late morning in a Brighton Starbucks. Phil has done that many times, and all it ever manages to do is make his anxiety worse.

He doesn't feel like that here, like he's taking up space and not moving fast enough. He feels like he's allowed to loiter here as long as he wants to, as long as he keeps buying coffee and doesn't distract Dan too much. It's nice.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" Phil asks.

Dan's cheeks flush a bit, more obvious without the glitter and skin-like paste - Sophie might have called it foundation, once, but Phil thinks that's probably a house term and not a face term and he hadn't actually been listening closely.

"Well, yeah," they say with a tiny shrug. "I can only sit down for a bit at a time until my breaks, but Gabe doesn't care if I hang out over here. I just gotta look busy."

"Okay," says Phil. He waits for another couple of seconds before he gently adds, "You don't look busy."

Something in Phil's stomach twists when Dan blushes deeper and starts pretending to organize the trinkets on the mantle. He wonders how much of Dan's insistence on moving around is because of where they are and how much of it is their inability to sit still. It's unfortunate how cute Phil finds them. He really shouldn't.

He decides to put off this line of thought, again, because he's got a cinnamon roll and an unfortunately-cute person to focus on. He's not going to think about how many times he's already procrastinated this budding crush. He eats and drinks and makes idle comments about where certain things should be and generally winds Dan up a bit. They only manage to sit still for a couple minutes at a time, even though they need to help a total of customers twice more before Phil needs a refill.

The drink Dan brings over this time is a different colour than the mocha, and Phil sniffs at it suspiciously before taking a sip. He was raised well, so he doesn't spit it out, but it's a close call. Dan seems to see something on his face, because they throw back their head and cackle a bit.

"Okay, not a dark roast guy," they tease, reaching for the mug like they intend to give Phil something else entirely. Phil pulls it out of their reach and shakes his head.

"No, hey, I'll drink it," he huffs. "Just point me to the sugar. I need a gallon of it."

--

Phil doesn't actually get much opportunity to talk to Dan in the handful of hours he sits around the coffee shop, but that doesn't surprise him very much. He gets comfortable with his laptop, legs tucked up under him in increasingly pretzel-like ways, and passes the time by editing the footage they do have. It isn't much, and that almost frustrates him enough to walk out and get the soonest train south, but every time he reaches that point, Dan is there with their big smile and another experimental drink in hand.

He's never really considered himself picky when it comes to hot drinks, since he likes his coffee instant and his tea weak, but Dan is quickly changing his mind about that. Most of the things Dan brings him are gross or just not something Phil would ever voluntarily order again, and Phil starts to think that he's probably the problem here.

"No more," Phil whines when he sees Dan making another mug of something indistinguishable.

The students in the corner have left, although Phil can't remember when, and Gabe is in the back doing... something, so he doesn't feel self-conscious talking across the small shop. At this point in the day, it's just him and Dan.

Dan laughs loudly and shakes their head. "This is for me, you big baby," they say. "My shift is done. I figured I could have a drink, if that's quite alright with you."

"I suppose that's fine," Phil grins. He saves all his work and shuts down his laptop, stretching his legs out for the first time in ages. He's gotten up to pee enough times that Dan probably thinks there's something wrong with him, but he's been in a bit of a research vortex. "Thanks. For, y'know, letting me come hang out here."

"Sure, anytime," Dan says. They sound sincere about it, not like they're just saying so.

"What do I owe you?" Phil asks, digging around in his bag for his wallet. He doesn't have all his equipment with him or anything, but his laptop bag is still cluttered with a bunch of nonsense he doesn't actually need to carry around.

Dan rattles off a number that doesn't sound correct at all, so Phil adds another bill to the pile before heading to the counter. Dan opens their mouth like they're going to protest. Phil isn't exactly in the mood to argue, so he just walks back to his chair without a word. He hears a loud, exasperated sort of sigh behind him, but then the sound of the cash drawer opening. Dan ducks into the back room for a couple of minutes and when they come back they're out of uniform and holding a travel mug with Pokémon all over it.

They're dressed more comfortably than Phil has seen them before. A dark hoodie that's clearly a couple sizes too big is hanging off their frame, falling somewhere around their thighs. It's a different shade of black than their leggings, but Phil doesn't think it matters to them. Their curls are a bit ruffled from being under a cap - still looking as soft as Phil remembers, though.

"Hi," Dan says, grinning a bit hesitantly as they sit in the armchair across from Phil. They hold their travel mug close to their face like it's a shield, but it's no use. Phil already saw the pink tinge of their cheeks and won't be fooled into thinking it's from the heat.

"Hey," Phil says, resisting the urge to hide his own smile behind his hand. "That hoodie looks so comfy."

Dan looks down, as if they'd already forgotten what they threw on. "Oh, yeah, it really is. I basically need pyjamas for this lecture or I'll be grouchy all day."

"What class was it?" Phil asks. He realises that he doesn't actually know what Dan is studying. Then his brain tumbles further down that rabbithole, because there's a lot he doesn't actually know about Dan. They've spent so much of their new friendship just talking about Phil's job and all the nonsense that comes with it.

"Human Impacts on the Biosphere," Dan says with a wry smile, like they know exactly how little Phil knows about the topic.

"You're studying biology?" Phil asks. Dan shakes their head, but they don't laugh or anything like Phil's question is a stupid one. He feels like it probably was.

"Environmental science," Dan corrects him. "But it's a biology class, so you're not far off."

"That's really cool," Phil says sincerely.

Dan blinks a few times in quick succession, and the fluttering of their long lashes is hypnotizing. They seem surprised that Phil is taking an interest, or maybe that Phil finds science cool. He doesn't know anything about it, really, but that's never stopped him from being interested in a topic. Especially when someone who actually knows what they're talking about is walking him through it - like Sophie with her experiments or PJ with his junkyard sculptures. Phil doesn't have to have a working knowledge of something to enjoy talking about it.

"Really?" Dan says, that familiar skepticism behind their sparkling eyes.

"Save the planet and all that, right?" Phil guesses. He must have guessed right, because Dan gives him a smile brighter than the fire beside them. "Yeah, I don't know much about it, but it sounds cool. What year are you in?"

"Third year, ready to be done with it."

Phil remembers what that was like. He also remembers all over again that Dan is twenty-one, like the fact had been simmering just under the surface until now. It isn't that Phil is drastically older than them or anything - more like he's nostalgic for an age he didn't even like all that much when he was experiencing it.

Things were their own kind of screwed up in Phil's third year of uni, but at least he still had... hope. Hope that his parents would come around to the hobby that was slowly starting to make him money, hope that he'd find a guy who liked his particular brand of weirdness, hope that he'd be able to do something with his life that he enjoyed. One by one, those hopes started to feel further and further away until he was here, turning twenty-six in two months and with nothing but a moderate-to-severe anxiety disorder and a couple thousand quid in his savings to show for it. He never even found a guy who'd put up with him for longer than two dates. He wonders what sort of hopes Dan has right now. He tries not to wonder how long it's going to be before they, too, start to feel like it's useless.

"Are you okay?"

Phil shakes himself out of his own thoughts, meeting Dan's eyes again. They're so warm and lovely that Phil feels a bit better just looking at them.

"Yeah," he lies, starting to pack up his stuff. "Just hungry, y'know. Teatime."

"Oh, right," says Dan. They look a bit startled, but whether that's from Phil's abruptness or the time of day, Phil has no way of knowing. "That makes sense. Want me to walk you to the bus stop?"

That sounds nice. Then Phil remembers what's waiting for him at the other end of the bus ride, and he shakes his head. "No, uh. I was thinking about getting dinner in town." He looks down so he doesn't have to see whatever Dan's expression does when he adds, "And I'd love company, if you... want."

"Do I want to have dinner with you?" Dan repeats, like they aren't quite sure if that's what Phil actually said. Before Phil can answer, though, they're already talking again. "Obviously, yes. There's a great sushi place down the street if you like sushi, and if you don't like sushi there's other good restaurants all over the place, like there's -"

"I love sushi," Phil interrupts before Dan settles into yet another ramble. He's too nervous to look Dan in the eye again, even with the positive reaction. "Let's go. My treat."

[ssjkallion]

Remember that Time I said I would Show You that mock trope page I made?

Here it is. 

IT’S ALL FOR FUN! And I do include references to actual RP’s, so you might find yourself in here lol!

Might as well post it here too for mobile purposes.

Kallion: 

A Saiyan time patroller from Planet Vegeta.

Action Survivor: Just barely survived Planet Vegeta’s destruction due to being marooned on another planet.

Survivors Guilt: Big time, though she tends to play it off, if not outright denying that she has it. Kallion has…issues about the circumstances of her survival.

Innocent Blue Eyes: Compared to the more common dark eyes of other Saiyans, emphasizing her gentle nature.

Fish Out Of Temporal Water: Was born several years before Planet Vegeta’s destruction, but is now living in Conton City nearly a century later. Though she’s happy now, her early days at the time patrol made for a difficult adjustment.

Brooding Boy, Gentle Girl: Gentle girl to Giblet’s Brooding Boy.

Involuntary Shapeshifting: As any Saiyan who still has their tail, one look at the full moon will have her turning into a Great Ape in no time.

My Species Doth Protest Too Much: Downplayed, and largely averted. Kallion points out that while she was always far more gentle than what was typically expected of Saiyans, and she lacked that ruthless killer instinct, she is still a battle-crazed idiot. On the other hand, she theorizes that her experiences weren’t all that unique to begin with. I.e: Gine and Tarble.

All Girls Want Bad Boys: Between Giblet and, yes, technically Trunks as well, Kallion seems to have a type. The real kicker is that she doesn’t escape this platonically either– Bardock is a hell of a father figure to have. She even lampshades this herself; “How come I only ever get attached to emotionally constipated men?”

Scars are Forever: A prominent one on her left cheek. It’s unknown exactly what the circumstances were, but she assumed she got it while a Great Ape. Countless others are scattered all over her body as well.

Intergenerational Friendship: With Bardock, her mentor. He also happened to be her father’s best friend.

Proud Warrior Race Guy: Saiyan!

Sole Survivor: Of her crew, who left her behind and returned to planet Vegeta on Frieza’s orders. Needless to say, she was lucky to be abandoned.

Tyke Bomb: Typical of most Saiyan children.

Golden Super Power Mode: Super Saiyan, naturally

Did You Just Punch Out Cthulhu?: It’s in the job description.

Dating Catwoman: Her and Giblet.

Action Mom: In the future, having kids doesn’t slow her down at all.

Mama Bear: Becomes fiercely protective of her baby boy Keel, a trait which only continues to grow in the future.

All-Loving Hero: Willing to give most people and creatures alike the benefit of the doubt….save for Frieza, Mira, Cell, Towa…obvious villains aside. Also loves animals.

Bad Powers, Good People: Being a Saiyan, she has a natural unlimited potential for battle and power. Along with the added layer of being able to turn into a vicious giant ape. Yet, she’s kind and mellow.

She’s Got Legs: Muscular and flexible.

Nice Girl: In spite of being a full blooded Saiyan of the PTO age, she’s kind hearted and easy going. Kallion, in general, has a difficult time hurting people unless pushed. Granted, she can be surprisingly short tempered.

The Apprentice: To Chronoa, as well as Bardock, and eventually Shallot.

Archenemy: Considers hers to be Towa, Frieza, and Suuja.

Badass Adorable: 5ft of Saiyan rage.

Bare Your Midriff: Typically in her casual attire.

Berserk Button: Good hearted as she may be, Kallion is still a short tempered Saiyan. What gets her is usually picking at her insecurities, insulting Chronoa or Trunks, making even the slightest threat toward her children, or dragging innocent people into conflicts.  

Big Eater: Saiyan!

Blood Knight: Again, Saiyan!

Came Back Strong: As with every Saiyan, coming back from the brink of death brings with it a hefty power-up known as a zenkai boost.

11th-Hour Ranger: Her job as an elite time patroller.

Glass Cannon

Huge Guy, Tiny Girl: Being all of 5ft, she’s this standing next to most of the men she knows. Special mention goes to Arugla, Taeta, Scaro, Giblet, Bardock, Trunks…

Lightning Bruiser: Speed is her greatest advantage due to her size.

Platonic Life-Partners: With Arugla, Taeta, Scaro, and debatably Trunks.

UST: With Trunks. There’s an obvious attraction, and she trusts him more than anyone.

Slap Slap Kiss: However, her and Giblet….

Opposites Attract: Her and Giblet again.

Slasher Smile: Often right before a fight.

Tranquil Fury: The first time she went Super Saiyan.

Token Good Teammate: Didn’t end well…kind of.

Took a Level in Badass: Gained a significant amount of confidence during her time in Conton City.

Wild Child: From age 6 to 12, after being marooned on a swampy planet by her old crew. When it became obvious that no one else was left to come get her, she fended for herself.

Blue is Heroic: Blue eyes, blue clothing, blue armor…

Defends Against Their Own Kind: Technically, whenever she’s fighting against a rogue saiyan in history.

Determinator: Can get to wonderfully self destructive levels.

Pregnant Badass: Hell, she’s confused as to why she’s apparently supposed to stop fighting after finding out she’s pregnant with Keel.

Socially Awkward Hero: Spending your formative years as a feral child will do that to a girl.

Idiot Hero: Socially awkward, romantically oblivious, no sense of self preservation? Yeah.

Nice Job Fixing It, Villain: So, your crew abandons you to die. Then THEY end up dying, you live and get stronger, and end of recruited by an elite time force where you get to work with the greatest heroes in history. Thanks, old crew!

Recruited From The Gutter: Found as a wild 12 year old girl living on a backwater planet with little intelligent life besides herself.

Undying Loyalty/I Owe You My Life: To Chronoa, Trunks, and the Time Patrol. Kallion is incredibly grateful for the second chance they gave her.

Wacky Parent, Serious Child: The wacky parent to the much more serious minded Keel.

Because You Were Nice To Me: What sparks Giblet’s attraction to her, along with the fact that she was never afraid of him. This trope is also the initial reason for her crush on Trunks.

Villainous Crush: Again, Giblet.

First Kiss: Giblet again!

Friend to All Children: Even before having her own, she had a soft spot for children and got along with them well.

Child From the Future: Keel, her equivalent of the Toki Toki City/XV1 Hero. Not that she initially knows.

Back-To-Back Badass: With Arugla, Taeta, and Trunks typically.

Desperately Craves Affection: Downplayed, but still there.

The Power of Friendship: Comes with the territory

Remember That You Trust Me

All Of The Other Reindeer

Motor Mouth: Usually when she’s nervous or meeting someone new.

Lady of War: It’s in the blood, after all.

Four-Temperament Ensemble: Sanguine

Beware the Nice Ones

Like A Daughter To Me: Bardock refers to her like this almost word for word.

Freudian Trio: The Id

Innocent Fanservice Girl: Has no qualms with people seeing her naked, and doesn’t understand why others would be offended by her being nude in her own home or bathroom.

Attack! Attack! Attack!

Wide-Eyed Idealist: To a point.

Too Hungry To Be Polite

Stupid Good: Hooooooo boy.

The Pollyanna

Paralyzing Fear of Sexuality: Due to growing up alone, her knowledge of sex and things related to it is slim to none. As a result, actually experiencing those feelings causes her to momentarily freeze and panic. She gets better.

Oblivious to Love: Related to the above. Romantic gestures tend to fly over her head unless it’s spelled out.

Insecure Love Interest: Which directly feeds into the above two examples.

Battle Aura: Yellow or purple.

Strong Family Resemblance: Her mother’s spitting image. In teen Keel’s timeline, she has a daughter of her own who looks just like her as well.  

Stepford Smiler: Type 1: “The character seems to be happy, cheerful, is always smiling, and seems to live a perfect life - but inside they are melancholic, if not outright depressed.”

Sink-or-Swim Mentor: Bardock, who has no problem beating her into the dirt during their very first training session.

Verbal Tic: Has a habit of ending sentences with “yeah?” and “ya know?”, as well as starting with common sentence fillers like “well,” or “uh”. Ya know?

Obfuscating Stupidity: Kallion is a weird case. While she’s uneducated and misses innuendo, she can be very intuitive. There’s also her habit of dodging uncomfortable questions by acting like she doesn’t understand. To quote Mariko; “Sometimes I wonder if you play dumb, or…”

Did you think I can’t feel?: Rips into Giblet with this almost word for word after he still accuses her of using and manipulating him for the Time Patrol.  

Dead Guy Junior: Not her, but her son is named for the only member of her crew who was kind to her– and died as a result.

Book Dumb: She is very much uneducated, due to her circumstances. Learning to read was never a priority until she was 12.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: The red to Android 22's blue, but the blue to Mariko's red.

(To be added on continually whenever I think of another or as I see fit! FOR FUN!)

[nadziejastar]

Lea/Axel was pretty clingy and had abandonment issues. In the books, he was willing to kill himself and Roxas just they could be best friends together forever. I feel so bad for him. He lost his old friend and his innocence to a cult and was desperate to feel love and friendship again. And when those got snatched away again he snapped, literally being ok with dying just so he could he see friends. He had some serious demons back then. Poor guy

Isa’s Connection to Ice Cream

Yes, Axel definitely had abandonment issues. He bitterly longed for his past and his innocence. I just cannot get over how everything about Lea and Isa in BBS was so happy and normal. Even Nomura said that both of them were just innocent frisbee-playing boys. They were portrayed a lot like Hayner’s gang, and the Wayfinder Trio in the old days. Very innocent and cute. It’s why Axel’s memories meant everything to him.

He desperately yearned to go back to those days. Lea deserved to have someone from his past, like everyone else. It made him FAR more interesting to me than simply being the big bro of the Sea-salt trio. The whole reason he ate ice cream was due to his past. The day where Lea and Isa are thrown out of the castle is a very important day. It’s as significant as the night before Aqua and Terra’s Mark of Mastery exam. And it has to do with ice cream.

Scrooge—An entrepreneur and shop owner from Disney Town. Hoping to take his already massive fortunes to cosmic levels, he moved to Radiant Garden with Merlin’s help.

I always got the impression that Axel’s ice cream addiction was an emotional thing—not just that he simply liked it that much. We never saw him eat it in KH2, but in Days, his favorite flavor was sea-salt. Just like Hayner’s gang. They represent childhood innocence. And Axel ate it ALL the time.

I have a theory. So, in BBS Scrooge took his business from Disney Town to Radiant Garden. This is how Lea is introduced to sea-salt ice cream. And Scrooge’s nephews were coming up with new flavors during that time. Ventus is the one who fixes their ice cream machine. And one of the songs in ice cream beat is called “Dessert Paradise.” It’s the only original song, made just for that mini-game.

Saïx’s Casual Gear is shaped like a banana and is called “Just Desserts” or “Dessert Time” in Japanese. It’s probably safe to assume that Isa had a sweet tooth. I think Lea and Isa ate at the ice cream shop all the time; probably every time they unsuccessfully tried to sneak into the castle and got thrown out. It was their routine, their own icing on the cake. If he likes fruit, Isa’s favorite flavor was probably “Double Crunch”, the one that was given to Ven if he wins the Million Dreams Award. Lea’s favorite was obviously sea-salt. And these memories had an enormous impact on him.

Axel had seen the trio out and about countless times, always talking and laughing. Roxas looked about the same age as them, actually.

Each one held an ice cream bar—sea-salt flavor, pale blue, and distinctly salty-sweet.

Axel was rather fond of it himself. Or rather, he remembered that he liked it.

“…Why don’t we get some ice cream first?”

I noticed a few things. While reading the novels, it didn’t even seem like Axel liked the taste of the ice cream—at least not anymore.

Axel: Man, I miss the old times. Still got it memorized? The day we met, when you got your new name, you and I sat right here, just like this and watched the sunset.

He took Roxas to eat ice cream on the day he got his new name. And in the opening of the Days movie, Axel watched Roxas enjoying his ice cream, but he looked reluctant to eat his. He braced himself, and then recoiled when he bit into it. It was way too salty for him, and he didn’t like it. It seemed as if he hadn’t eaten it in a long time. He only started when Roxas came, when he took him out as a treat. Then, he started getting nostalgic and began eating them non-stop.

Beside the small shop run by the Moogles, an unusual-looking elderly gent, Scrooge, was touting his wares with some blue ice cream in hand.

“Come one, come all, and have yourself a taste! Ice cream, ice cream, sweet, salty, and strange!”

“What’s that?” Lea ran up to check it out.

“Oh, young man, would you like one?”

“I’m…guessing they aren’t free?” Lea asked, jamming a hand into his pocket.

Scrooge hopped up and yelled, “Of course not! Are ye daft?!”

This is from the novel, of the epilogue with Lea and Isa. Are they free? LOL. Definitely sheltered. Lea’s just a kid. He didn’t have a lot of money. He was digging through his pockets. It’s like how Hayner and the gang had to take on odd jobs to get enough money to go to the beach, and get pretzels.

An important thing to note is that this was the day they ate sea-salt ice cream for the very first time! Scrooge just arrived and he just started selling it. Lea didn’t even know what it was. This was one of the happiest days of his life, and is no doubt burned into his memory. He met Ventus, and ate at Scrooge’s ice cream shop for the first time. Lea never looked happier than when Isa said he’d never forget him. Just like Aqua never looked happier than when she saw Terra and Ven arguing like brothers.

“Okay, I’ll take one…no, two!”

“Thank ye kindly!”

Lea handed over some munny and took the two ice popsicles from Scrooge, one of which he gave to Isa.

Despite being broke, Lea buys one for himself. And he still made sure to buy one for Isa, of course. One for each of them.

“It’s cold…,” Isa muttered as he took a bite.

“What’re you talking about? It’s ice cream; of course it’s cold. Got it memorized?”

“Salty, too.”

“But sweet!” Lea added, and Isa smiled a bit.

It’s rare to see Isa smile.

Isa seems like a deadpan type of person, who complains a lot, in jest. “This ice cream’s cold”. Lea’s like “yeah, no shit dummy!” That made Isa smile. I found it cute how Lea reacted when Isa smiled. He is more introverted, so it was rare to get a smile out of him. It gave me the impression that Lea constantly tried to make him smile and was happy when he did.

But, well, friendship means eating ice cream together, talking about stupid things, and laughing like this. Speaking of which, I wonder what that he’s up to….that guy, Ventus or whatever.

“We’ll get another shot at it.”

“Yeah,” Isa replied, gazing at the castle they had failed to infiltrate. Lea grinned and looked up at it, too.

Lea thinks about Ventus when talking about what friends do together. Is it just a coincidence that Roxas shows up, and Axel automatically wants to be his friend and eat ice cream with him?

Axel: C'mon, let’s get some ice cream.

Roxas: Why?

Axel: Whaddaya mean, why? Because we’re friends.

Roxas: So…friends are people who have ice cream together?

Axel: Sort of… That, or laugh at stupid stuff that doesn’t make any sense. Like those kids we just saw–they were friends. C'mon, I’ll show you how it works.

Axel said they were friends, like they had met before, and it was just a given. And he looked so flustered about it. The scene made me think it was a deliberate nod to when he met Ventus.

Axel: It’s sea-salt ice cream. C'mon, I already told you once. Get it memorized, man.

Roxas: It’s really salty…but sweet, too.

And later that day, Roxas sees that he had a WINNER stick. I couldn’t help but notice that Saïx also looked at his popsicle stick in KH3, like it was a WINNER, too. It honestly kills me that we had a potential storyline where Isa was involved with that whole idea, and I’ll never get to know what it was about. It makes me so sad.

“Oh, hey, I just remembered…” Axel idly kicked his dangling feet against the ledge.

“Did you guys know you should be checking your ice cream sticks?”

“Really? For what?” asked Xion.

“Once you finish your ice cream bar, check the stick. It might say ‘Winner.’ Not that I’ve ever seen one.”

Apparently Axel had never seen a WINNER stick before. I definitely think Isa was going to have a much larger importance to Axel’s sea-salt ice cream addiction than we ever learned. I think ice cream was fundamental to their friendship, and Axel’s memories. Isa probably knew that Lea was hoping to get a winning stick. Lea met Ven by picking up the wooden Keyblade Terra gave him, after he was left all alone. So, I would not be surprised if the WINNER stick had a special meaning with Isa, too. After Roxas left it for Axel, it probably made him doubly sad.

Axel: Pfft, me? I didn’t do anything.

Xion: Sure you did. If you hadn’t spoken up for us this morning, me and Roxas would’ve had to split up.

Roxas: And then Xion might never have remembered how to use the Keyblade.

Xion: Thanks, Axel.

Axel: Ahem… How ‘bout an ice cream, then?

Xion: Huh?

Axel: Buy me one, and we’ll call it even.

On the day Xion and Roxas thank Axel for defending them from Saïx, he looks away with a troubled expression. Then he says an ice cream will make them even. He needed an ice cream to deal with the distance between him and Saïx.

Aqua’s eyes never left Terra as he walked away. She had no idea what to do, and her chest ached. Her fingers tightened around her Wayfinder.

It was part of a set, to keep them together no matter where they were. Their hearts were connected, after all.

But—had she made a mistake?

It’s like when Aqua clutched the wayfinder tightly when Terra distanced himself from her. She’d always take it out and hold it when she needed comfort. It represented her unbreakable connection with her friends. I think the ice cream was the same for Axel. He found such comfort in ice cream because it represented his memories of the past—specifically of Isa. He eats it all the time as a form of self-medication. It helped him feel closer to the Isa of his memories.

Axel ducked into the sweets shop. “One ice cream, please!”

“Here you go.”

Sea-salt ice cream in hand, he meandered toward the clock tower.

He’d never deluded himself that tracking down Riku would be easy, and neither had Saïx. It was just that if he went back and reported that he couldn’t find anything, he would have to deal with those attempts at “personality”—the sneers, the snide remarks, the only trappings of human emotion that Saïx ever showed. Not that Saïx was even capable of annoyance or disappointment, of course, what with the lack of a heart and all.

Heading up the slope to the station, Axel bit into the ice cream bar. “This stuff is so salty,” he murmured to himself, as he often did.

Axel often murmured to himself about the ice cream’s saltiness. And he was thinking about Saïx’s lack of emotion in this scene. Of course, he’d want to soothe himself with childhood memories in that moment. Memories like the first time he and Isa had sea salt ice cream together. The same day they met Ven, and Isa told him he’d never forget him. Isa complained that the ice cream was salty, then Lea made him smile. Axel was thinking he’d never see Isa smile again. So he ate ice cream to soothe himself.

Axel: Does it hurt, Naminé? Watching your two childhood friends fight all because of you? You have my sympathies. From the heart. But don’t waste your time. We Nobodies can never hope to be somebodies.

Axel doesn’t visibly show sadness too often. He guards his emotions well. But when he spoke with Naminé, he had the look of pure heartbreak and dejection. Sora and Riku reminded him of his broken friendship with Isa. He didn’t want them to go through what he did. Axel had the same look Aqua had on Destiny Islands. 

She couldn’t even pass the Keyblade on to Sora. She didn’t want them to go through what she did. These were the most vulnerable looks I’d seen on either of them. Downplaying Lea’s relationship with Isa is like downplaying Aqua’s relationship with Terra. Her fractured relationship with him was the main source of her pain! It’s like saying that Aqua doesn’t need Terra anymore because she met Riku, who reminds her of him. Even when she had Ven, she wasn’t happy until Terra was saved.

“Yep, hard to believe there are so many worlds out there besides our own. The light is their hearts, and it’s shining down on us like a million lanterns.”

Aqua, too, gazed up at the sky as she listened to Terra’s words.

Yes, the light was the radiance of the world’s heart. The hope of the people living within that world.

Terra taught Ven about where the light of the stars comes from.

The sun sank lower and lower as Axel watched, his mind wandering.

If he stared for too long, the image would burn itself into his eyes, visible even after his eyes were closed.

A phantom sun.

Someone had once told him why sunsets were red… Who was that?

The novel hinted that it was Isa who told Lea why the sun sets red.

“An unbreakable connection.” Aqua raised her blue charm skyward. “No matter where we go, we’ll never truly be apart. And that power will see us through, I know it.”

“…Unbreakable connections, huh?”

Ven held his good luck charm up to the sky, too.

Our bond will never break, with or without these, thought Terra.

This was the night Aqua gave her friends the wayfinders. She used magic on them so that they’d always find their way back to each other. She looked at the stars and said they would always be together.

“Yeah. As long as we remember one another, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?”

Roxas grinned. “Who are you, and what have you done with Axel?”

“Hey! I tried, okay?” All that effort to cheer them up, and they just turned it into a punch line. Chagrined, he looked away.

Xion burst into giggles, and then, as if it was contagious, Roxas started laughing, too.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that funny!” Axel scolded.

That was also the day Axel looked at the sunset, and said that as long as he had memories, he’d never have to be apart from anyone. The day he said an ice cream would make it even. When Terra said Aqua never stopped lighting his way back, that was the most emotional she had ever been. That unbreakable connection meant everything to her. And I’ve never seen Lea look as happy as when Isa handed him the ice cream. He had the look of perfect bliss. His memories meant everything to him.

[chibivesicle]

Hello A lot of times some gk fans complain that some people replace Shiraishi with ogata in the trio. I actually saw two people complain about this today. I don’t know if they were referring to your post. What do you think about this ? What’s the difference between sugi-ogata- asirpa trio and sugi- shira-asirpa trio? I really like your analysis so I would like to know your opinion

Hello, thanks for your question.

First off, everyone is entitled to their own opinion on things and it really depends how a reader understands or connects to the work.

But in regard to the idea that there is one true trio is bit silly.

Since the start, I have always read the first and serious trio to be Ogata-Asirpa-Sugimoto.  These are the first three characters introduced.  Noda-sensei kept Ogata in the back of the readers minds while he was recovering in the hospital.  The fact that Tamai & Co. plus Tanigaki go in search of who ever had attacked Ogata in the first place.  The fact that when he regains consciousness, Tsurumi immediately goes to him.  Ogata was in the background until he reappeared to try to kill Tanigaki whom he was afraid would sell him out to Tsurumi and whom also killed Tamai & Co (as far as Ogata knows at that point in time). 

Another important aspect of Ogata and Sugimoto is that they are frequently shown either in opposition or as mirrors.  Ogata kills from afar and is cold and detached.  Sugimoto kills up front and personal and tries to remember the faces of the men he killed to atone for his acts.  Neither character cries out in pain when hurt by others (and boy did I try to find a scene were one of them does cry out in pain to prove @goldenkamuyhunting wrong.  I couldn’t -_-). 

They both “blow off” wounds or ignore them until they complete a mission.  Both at times throw themselves into situations without abandon.  Both men show little value for their lives at times but their personalities are complete opposites.  Asirpa saw her father in Sugimoto when they first met and both individuals are both and bossy at times.  But Asirpa has a lot in common with Ogata; they use long range weapons, both lost their families or were abandoned.  I think Ogata is a possible outcome for Asirpa if she doesn’t start to take control of her role in the gold hunt.  Chapter 191 saw her trying to detach herself from trauma.  I hope that is a temporary coping mechanism and she doesn’t slide down the Ogata direction.  She did have a very very bad day.

I think a lot of the conflict between Sugimoto and Ogata stem from how they perceive the other in relation to Asirpa.  Sugimoto was livid that Ogata “stole” Asirpa,  I think that on some level Sugimoto sees Asirpa as a kid sister but also sees her similar to Umeko as a female whom he cares deeply about.  Sugimoto was clearly upset that Toraji married Umeko - he told her to marry Toraji and she did but you could tell he was like “But you were supposed to wait for me … but the two of you went ahead and got married without me …” Sugimoto doesn’t say want he needs to say and as a result others move on without his input.

Ogata figured out quickly that Asirpa has a crush on Sugimoto.  He clearly saw that Sugimoto sees her as a kid sister.  I think Ogata wanted to avoid Asirpa becoming hurt by Sugimoto since he knows he romantically has feelings for another woman who is never directly mentioned by Sugimoto.  When Ogata does his fake flashback he’s trying to in part get Asirpa to move on from her crush.  He likely sees the possibility for Asirpa to be hurt like his mother.  I think Ogata in part saw it as tough love for Asirpa to protect her as well as his own need for her to chose him over Sugimoto.  Everyone has more than one thing at play in their interactions. 

But with the events that have occurred, these three characters are going to have to talk to each other.  Sugimoto can’t other and dehumanize Ogata, he just saved him for Asirpa.  Asirpa needs to know why Ogata wanted her approval and trust.  Asirpa needs to realize that she almost killed Ogata and has to find a way to resolve her issues with self-defense vs offensive actions.  And Sugimoto needs to let Asirpa realize that she almost killed him instead of “saving” her by “saving” Ogata who we know he wanted to kill with his bare hands if possible.

Okay, so let’s shift to the Sugimoto-Asirpa-Shiraishi trio.  I think of this as the friendship trio.  They goof around, they all are foodies always enjoying their dinners with lots of statements of “Hinna!” etc.  The anime really highlighted these guys more than the manga does in my opinion - season 2 really uses the three of them grouped as a theme which isn’t as common.  Just watch the opening - Who is the trio?  These guys. Where is Ogata?  Just with some blood splatter, he’s not that important according to season 2.

Now, Noda himself said that Shiraishi wasn’t intended to be a long term character.  Kamuy Central has a section about character models.  Here is the end of the translation.

https://kamuycentral.wordpress.com/2017/12/27/the-model-for-shiraishi-yoshitake/

And here we even have Kamuy Central calling them a trio!  So yes, these guys to form a trio based on food, friendship, and fun times.

Shiraishi wormed his way into Noda’s head and heart so he got a larger role than originally intended.  I like this, Shiraishi is a good character, he isn’t in my top 4, but I like him better than Tanigaki and Koito for example.  Personally, he adds more levity to the manga and he also is as I’ve stated before a lover and not a fighter which shows in how his character has developed from being a selfish loner to a man with a few close and real friends (even though he just buried one of them).  He plays an important role giving the reader a way into how one would feel being friends with Sugimoto but watching how brutal he can be when he intends to kill.  Think of him watching Sugimoto after Hemei’s death … how he was afraid of Sugimoto when he had no choice but to secretly work for Hijikata. 

Furthermore, his character development has been heartwarming … I really hope he eventually learns why Kiro was willing to die for his cause and to see a bigger picture.  But baby steps, he’s got his first real set of friends so let’s not rush his development.

Now the best example of these guys as a trio go back to the snake kamuy/snake bite incident.  Ogata is outside looking in on their behaviour, Sugimoto and Shiraishi are giving Asirpa a hard time and it is all in good fun.  Ogata takes her seriously but he’s not joking around with the others.  When they are in the swamp hunting cranes, Shiraishi tries so hard to talk to Ogata … but he’s purposely ignoring him being his loner self and Shiraishi is a friendly guy. 

When we jump to chapter 189, the friend trio is reunited!  Poor Ogata is passed out on the ice while we they are finally able to see each other once again.  I think this shows the stark contrast between the “serious” trio and the “friend” trio.

Both are valid trios - just that one will move the plot further a lot more than the other.  I don’t predict another flashback about Shiraishi - we got his prison break romance and that is likely it.  And it was all played for laughs.  If Shiraishi were a part of the “serious” trio, we would need to see a very deep and tragic/sad/emotional flashback from him.  We don’t have that, and I don’t think we will get that.

When Sugimoto almost kills Ogata, the chapter ends with him and Asirpa inside her hunting tent eating dinner together.  This is in direct contrast with Ogata being pulled from the river on a stretcher.

Both Sugimoto and Ogata have grown their hair out after leaving the military either by choice or not.  Yet, both men can’t escape the cycle.

Ultimately, Sugimoto, Asirpa and Ogata will move the plot forward more so than Shiraishi will.  That’s okay.  He’s added a lot of depth to the cast. 

[unfortunatelycake]

Finished writing Anon. Tired and not really able to concentrate all that well right now, but despite that I’m looking at my WIPs/ideas and thinking ‘What next?’

(procrastinating and rambling to myself, ignore me)

I’d like to finish writing A Trio of Mochi but tbh the boueibu fandom is dead and I don’t think anyone cared much for the OT3 in the first place, so I guess that’d be a waste of time. Except I don’t like leaving things unfinished, and it’s part of a series. So I suppose I could just write up a brief set of snapshots to summarise what I’d planned, and post that as a single chapter, and mark the series as complete...

Loose plans for a IoRyuu-centric followup to Love is Found in a Dragon’s Heart aren’t really worth pursuing for the same reasons (also I know me, and it would still end up very AkoRima focused, though this time with more pink brotp going on). Again, fandom dead, no1curr

Offshots/sequels from some other boueibu fics... Buuuuut I refer to previous issue (yes I write mainly for myself, but feedback and comments go a lot towards actually motivating me to finish stuff)

Single GO fic is something I’ve run out of energy for already; I basically don’t feel smart or eloquent enough to do the idea justice and have kind of lost motivation for it. 

Then there are the OPM fics.

+ Companion fic to Chrysalis is yet to be written, kind of feel I need to re-read everything and take notes so I don’t miss any important things that need expansion from Mumen’s perspective (God, I don’t write from Mumen’s POV that often, it’s kind of difficult...) 

+ OPM AU/semi-AU where the Mad Cyborg’s attack had a slightly different effect on Genos’ life/family, and he and Saitama are brought together in an entirely different way. Slow burn that needs actual planning instead of me just winging it and leaving myself unhelpful comments under what I’ve written so far. 

+ Sidefic to Anon, a one-shot about Iaian and Atomic Samurai, because it got me.

+ More one-shots for the Persons and Passions series, to fill in some gaps that happened as a result of Memories and follow on from Salvation. May or may not include more smut. Need to actually plan. 

+ Maybe spruce up/expand upon some of the ficlets I posted along with art for Mumarou Month. I say maybe because my brain likes to work on new things rather than old ones, and whilst one ficlet would end up being part of P&P, another could end up a whole longassed fairytale AU, and rn I don’t have the mental energy. 

Actually I don’t have the mental energy for anything right now, and it sucks. 

+ Also I started watching Altered Carbon on Netflix and I’m sure there’s a related mumarou/genosai fic slowly cooking away in my brain that I haven’t realised yet

+ ALSO I  want to try writing some different ships? I mean genosai and mumarou forever but it’d be good exercise for my brain to mix up the ships a bit, just in drabbles and oneshots, nothing too deep or strenuous, just light fluffy stuff...

+ A L S O I could maybe write some prompt fics? Which reminds me of several abandoned fics started for prompts that I gave up on in favour of stuff I actually posted for the prompt, oops. Again short fics. I’m impatient and want validation. 

But mostly I’m tired. Have gone from having a cold to getting period to feeling really tired and run down and everything takes an immense mental effort and I just want to sleep. But when I try to sleep, my brain wants to get writing, and plots stuff, and then I fall asleep and when I wake up I only half-remember stuff. 

And I feel like anything I try to write at the moment will be totally lacklustre like Anon chapter 12 (wait and see) but I want to write so aaaaaaaaaagggggggggh what should I wriiiiiiiiite

[petite-neko]

Survivor - 4

Fanfiction: Survivor Story Summary: Anything was better than that. Characters: Law, Luffy Pairing: Lawlu Rating: T Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Self-deprecating thoughts, Alcohol Usage. Day/Prompt: Day 9 : R - Reconciliation A/N: Wheeeee this guy’s looonnnggg. But finally got him donnee.

.xxx. - Scene jumps.

.+++. - PoV Switch

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter || Chapter 4: Reconciliation

Law heard ruckus outside his door. Feet shuffling around before there was a knock on his door.

“Captain?”

Law groaned, running his hand through his hair.

“...What is it?”

“...Permission…” The voice was soft, uncertain. “...The Strawhats are nearby and under attack. May we assist them, or shall we continue on sailing Captain?”

Why the hell had they bumped into the Strawhats?

Law sighed. It, really, made no sense. But he supposed being followed in the New World made no sense either. Nor could his brain really make sense of anything accurately right now... Perhaps they got turned around somewhere?

(...Bepo wouldn’t make that mistake.)

“...Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to join the battle. Even to save your asses.”

As expected, they surfaced not long after. He had no qualms with his crew assisting them. They seemed to get along well enough. The only issue was…

(He recognised that flag… hadn’t they just routed them? They most definitely got turned around then. At least he could make sense enough of that. What the hell was Bepo doing?)

Lazily, he watched the battle unfold before him through his window.

The ‘monster trio’ had been wreaking havoc as usual. Doing the most damage and picking off the strongest enemies. Nami and Usopp stayed back with Franky to protect the Sunny, while the others moved back and fourth to eliminate the other threats.

He saw his own crew come into action - although not all of them. Jean Bart, for example, stayed back to protect the ship, and therefore him as well.

The one thing he noticed however, and the one thing he didn’t like was just how reckless Luffy was being…

(Jumping across distances with nothing but the sea below him… using his gear second and third intermittently. Thankfully, he hadn’t used the fourth.)

He attacked without abandon, left right and center. He was almost like a madman.

(And there was that pang. At seeing his old ally so close and yet so far. And Law found himself mesmerised. Focusing in on him, seeing nothing but Luffy.)

He attacked and attacked, getting injuries that even he should have been able to avoid.

(Just what was this idiot doing?)

And then, Law saw it. Saw an enemy coming in from behind.

That idiot!!

The next thing he knew was that he was on the battlefield, reeking of the stench of alcohol, his hair sticking out at all angles in a state of bad bed head, and eyes dark and bloodshot from the lack of sleep, and fending off a blow from the enemy that almost succeeded in impaling Mugiwara no Luffy. And hissing back at his old ally.

“If I can't die, neither can you Mugiwara-ya! So watch your damn back!”

“Torao!”

“Shut up and defeat these bastards already!”

He only received laughter as a response.

.xxx.

After a battle that he had most definitely not been fit to participate in, he found his numerous injuries being treated by Chopper on the Sunny, and all eyes on him.

All minds thinking the same, unanswered question:

Why?

Even without his haki, Law would have been able to decipher the question being aimed at him. But with the haki had he had trouble turning off due to his level of intoxication, and that incessant buzzing in a head that most certainly didn’t need any assistance in that manner but did with foreign voices in his head...

He just decided to answer the god-damned question.

“This was my crew's decision.” He started, sighing in relief as the questions began to stop. “It was only when your idiotic captain would have otherwise been impaled did I decide that intervention was necessary.”

There was a collaborative sigh around him.

Well before said idiot had decided to just tackle him.

(The world spun. So much. Spun as they went hurtling to the ground. Spun as Law found himself cursing the alcohol in his system yet again, as it made the world spin that much more. And no – it wasn’t a concussion that made the world spin that much… maybe… Although he couldn’t entirely rule out the possibility that he had one or not. That wasn’t the point here. The world was fucking spinning because some damn idiot thought tackling an injured, intoxicated Law was perfectly an intellectual idea.)

“...Get. Off. Of. Me. Mugiwara-ya.”

(He could hear everybody backing away from them at his punctuated words.)

He pushed the other off of him when he decided to not listen to him, eyes narrowing at they looked into the other’s black depths.

“I’m glad you came Torao~”

Well… since the idiot wasn’t close to death anymore, he just flat out punched him. Right in the face. And, made sure that it would hurt the annoying ball of rubber. He couldn’t do it before. So why not now? When the idiot was right here and him just as angry.

“I’m not.”

(He found all that anger welling up again. And Luffy being even more reckless than before only spurred it on. Idiot. That mother fucking idiot!)

“I told you to leave me alone!”

Luffy was pouting up at him, rubbing at where he was punched.

“You don’t want that.”

His fists were balling up again – and honestly? An all out brawl was sounding quite appealing right now. Who cared if he just finished battling a pirate crew, or that he was sleep deprived and drunk to boot?

(No… not drunk, just heavily intoxicated. There was a difference. He still had some semblance of control…)

“Well you do!”

“What do you know what I want Torao!”

Oh, good. Looked like that idiot was getting angry too. Maybe a brawl was going to happen.

“I know that you’d rather leave me alone and stranded and broken!” His voice was raising, and he knew it but, quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn. He just didn’t care right now. Angry, he was so damn angry. “I know you’d rather die than let me die! That you’re so damned afraid of being alone that you’d rather others suffer it than to suffer it yourself!”

(Okay, maybe some of this was Luffy’s fault…)

But Law found himself trembling. In anger, yes, but also in fear.

“And I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself on my behalf Mugiwara-ya!” (And now, all he could see was Cora-san. Cora-san and his smile. Cora-san and I love you. Cora-san and the bullets.) “I’m not going through that again!”

“Stop being stupid Torao.”

(Why? Why was Luffy so calm right now? What happened to that anger from before?)

“I’m not being stupid!” Law was surprised at how loud his voice was right now. “It’s you who is being stupid! Jumping in like that with no way to defend yourself? I make mistakes! That’s all I ever do!” (The fear was taking over now, not the anger.) “One day, I’m going to fuck up like always… and you’re going to pay the price. Just like everybody else.”

“Shut up Torao.”

“No you listen damn it! I’m going to be your downfall Mugiwara-ya! I’m cursed, damaged, poisonous and one day-”

But he couldn’t finish. Because Luffy had just walked up to him, looking intensely at him, repeating for him to shut up before just yanking him down and using his lips to shut them up.

Law fought, and managed to push him away slightly. “Mugiwara-ya! Wha-”

“I said shut up Torao.”

His grip was firmer this time – and Law knew that in a battle of pure strength he could never dream to best Luffy. And Luffy had one hand tightly grasping at his shirt, the other in his hair – just holding him there.

He struggled anyway. Because god damn Mugiwara! And the way his lips were moving against him – as if trying to provoke him to return it.

(This was not how he envisioned their first kiss…)

Still Law fought – although the battle was more internal than external. No. He told himself. You can’t allow yourself even this minor concession. And, he knew that he couldn’t. Because if he did… if he slipped up even just once the entire wall he had built would come tumbling down.

But Luffy’s lips felt so tantalising… What if… What if…

And the way Luffy continued to move his lips – with even more urgency and just… fervently…

(The alcohol was not helping. Most definitely not helping his case here…)

And the hand in his hair was gripping… tugging... the one at his shirt was grasping and pulling them closer.

Luffy felt so desperate.

(And of course, his muddled brain had interpreted desperate as needy and, that was far more than enough to tip him over and he slipped. He slipped. Deep… deeper…)

And he found himself gripping tightly onto Luffy’s vest and pulled them closer and his lips had responded with matching fervour.

Luffy… Luffy… Luffy…

Oh, god how he missed this man.

His smiles. His laughs. His mere presence.

How much of an idiot was he to try and separate himself from this?

He found the energy that had spurred him on suddenly whisked away from him. As his body just slumped against Luffy’s, and sobs escaping him.

Fear. That’s what. Fear and just an overload of emotions.

(God damned alcohol, a minor part of his brain cursed quietly.)

But Luffy was just stroking his hair and holding him gently. And they sat like that for awhile. As Law slowly regained control of his facilities.

“…Feeling better Torao?”

For some reason, Law found the irony in that question hilarious. And he barked out a laugh. Sarcastic? Yes. “No. I feel like shit.” And he did. His head was pounding behind his eyes. He felt nauseous and sick to his stomach. (Although, totally unrelated to the alcohol he consumed – being purely psychological.) The world was still spinning.

But at the very least, Luffy was here.

“…Less scared then?”

And, Law found that the fear wasn’t overwhelming now. It was still there – probably always would be but… He nodded. “Less, yes.”

Luffy leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. “…Good.” And he was quiet for a few moments before continuing. “I’m sorry Torao. I didn’t know you were as scared of being alone as I was.”

Law found himself shaking his head. “Ah… no. It’s not that Mugiwara-ya…” And he found himself biting his lip. “It’s not being alone that bothers me. It’s being left alone.” He found himself trembling again, but Luffy was quick to wrap his arms around him again.

“It’s being a survivor…”

(Lami. His parents. Cora-san…)

“So don’t do that shit again Mugiwara-ya. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: If you’re going down, I am too.”

He heard laughter above him.

“…Well you can’t go down with me if you’re not with me.”

…Luffy had a point there.

“…But…” He found himself going. Because he was… he was…

“I thought you said there is no but Torao.”

(Law couldn’t help it. A fit of giggles overcame him.)

(…Damn alcohol!)

…Did Luffy just nuzzle him?

“I don’t care if you say you’re cursed or poisonous or doomed. Torao is Torao and I like Torao! So you’re not going anywhere Torao. Okay? Your enemies are my enemies. And we’ll either win together or die together. Okay?”

That exhaustion was grasping more at him, and he found himself weakly nodding as a response. “…Remind me tomorrow…” He said – and the exhaustion was coming down even stronger now. “…I think… I’m gunna… pass out now…”

“Shishishi, I’ll remind you every day Torao. Every day until you forget that anything else is possible.”

And when he yawned, he weakly muttered thank you before darkness claimed him.

That would be nice…

[blastingxff]

Fate that Binds 16 (end)

This part: Everyone loves a deus ex machina. (FYI: This fic actually isn’t crack like please proceed with caution. And yes I am aware this tells you nothing about the part in question.)

first part // previous part  Series: Pokemon Characters: Jessie, James, Meowth, Pikachu, Ash, Brock, May, Max, Jessebelle Ships: hints of rocketshipping if you read it that way, mostly just friendshipping though Summary: It had been a throwaway wish, something made out of the frustration of the moment- it wasn’t actually supposed to happen. But the magic of a well haunted by a pokemon’s spirit ended up altering reality. Now, Jessie, James, and Meowth aren’t in Team Rocket. They don’t even know each other. And it’s created far darker a world for the TRio than Ash could have ever imagined, and now he and his friends want nothing more than to change things back to how they were. Genre: Friendship, hurt/comfort, so much angst, all the angst, drama, butchered canon, Words:  1,458 / part 16 out of 16 Trigger Warnings (this part): none other than stupid ending. Notes: This popped into my head and didn’t get out until I wrote it down. It’s 16 chapters, and entirely written already in about three days. So that will explain a helluvalot. Like the bus-sized plotholes. I just wanted to be mean to my favorite characters, geeze, is that so bad? XP Also can be read on Ao3.

Chapter 16

When Ash was able to focus again after a blinding flash of light spilled from the well, the first thing he noticed was that they were no longer in that outcropping. Second was that they were no longer on the edge of a cemetery. In fact, it seemed they were back to where they had started- in the woods near Cerulean.

Then he noticed that Jessie, James, and Meowth were gone. Jessie wasn’t lying there, dead. James wasn’t a broken, shaking human, and Meowth wasn’t frozen, watching the death of his family.

With hesitancy in his movements, his eyes went to Pikachu on his shoulder, and then to Brock and Max and May, “Guys…”

“What happened?” May verbalized the question they all held. With caution she followed the distant sound of city, moving through the last of the trees. Her words confirmed his thoughts, “We’re… we’re back in Cerulean.”

Their breaths were held as they began to walk towards the city where they had hoped to meet Misty over a week ago. There was a suspense in their breaths, not wanting to get excited to only find that things had been made worse again.

“You may have bested us last time!” It was haughty, familiar, and determined. Alive.

“But we’ve found you again and this time we came extra prepared!” Full of confidence, flare, and pride.

“It was a good try at hide-n-seek but youse twerps ain’t gonna get away with Pikachu today!” The human language was as impeccable as it had been before.

It was a scene Ash had witnessed dozens of times before. The three of them standing in a unified strength, typical Team Rocket uniforms on their bodies, Meowth healthy and whole.

James wore not a hint of that beaten down passiveness that came as a result of his fiancée.

Most importantly, Jessie was full of life. No trace of death on her preened skin.

“Don’t even try- Ah- James?” Jessie took a step back, “Did we do anything to make the twerp cry yet? I didn’t think we did… maybe later but….”

“Um, I don’t think so- unless we’ve started to scare them even more than before!”

“And things just got more awkward, twoip, what are you doin? Ya hit your head or something?”

Before they could react, Ash had his arms around both of their waists, clinging onto them tight. Pikachu seemed less enthused than his trainer- staying behind near their travel companions- but still relieved enough to see Meowth back to normal.

“We’re just glad to see you, that’s all,” Brock offered, though he was well aware the words would do little to explain the situation, only creating new questions.

“We were really worried,” Max aided the confusion with a smile, also knowing very well what he was doing. Or, not doing.

Jessie, James, and Meowth all exchanged a look, Jessie and James’ arms up and away from Ash’s body, both quite unsure of the proper response to this situation, “I feel we’re missing something,” Jessie’s words came slow towards his companions who could only nod in agreement.

“You’re alive, James isn’t married, and Meowth is well… Meowth,” May was breathing easier than she had in awhile, fighting the urge herself to latch onto the two of them. She was able to catch James’ eyes. They were so bright. So alive. Confused as heck, but sparkling.

The explanation offered to the Trio before them, reluctantly released by the boy they had attempted theft from too many times to be an accident, seemed to ring a bell in their minds.

“Jessie,” James began, “those nightmares we all had this past week… the weird ones?”

“Sound an awful lot like dis.”

“So does that mean it wasn’t the 3am pizza?”

“No, Jess, I think part of it still was. And the issue with that wasn’t the pizza at 3am; it was the fact that it was abandoned pizza at 3am that you found.”

“Still tasted good,” she shrugged, failing to see the argument, “Beggars can’t be choosers and all.”

“I mean, we still have standards, Jess.”

“Give it time.”

A twerpish laugh caught their attention, pulling them from their inner-group discussion to the boy in front of them. The twerp had yet to dry his eyes completely, still just way too excited to see any of them, “I’m so glad you’re back….” He was saying, his words breaking, “I was so… scared I’d- I’d-” his eyes went to Jessie, and she could feel something strange inside her gut. He was trying to hold himself together. She was stuck with what to do. A side-glance told her James and Meowth had little idea either as they seemed to be merely watching the display.

The twerp wasn’t done with his attempt at speech, “Jessie, I- when you- when you were- I really thought I’d- it was my fault you- you were-”

The sentence couldn’t be finished. For Brock and May and Max and Pikachu, it didn’t need to be. Brock’s hand went to his friend’s shoulder, hoping to provide forgiving comfort.

As for the trio of pokémon thieves with bruised hearts, the words and actions from the young boy triggered a rare moment they could only describe as being touched.

“Hey, twerp, don’t sweat it,” Jessie surprised herself with her attempts at easing the wild emotions of an adolescent, “It’s over and done with. Crying won’t change what happened and it’s not going to change anything from here on out, so c’mon, blast us off and get on with your little twerpish journey.”

Ash turned towards Pikachu, trying to open his mouth to issue a command but no voice came out. Instead, he returned to the three enemies and words spilled, fueled by stress-caused exhaustion, “I don’t… I don’t want to,” he was struggling, “I don’t want to.”

Jessie’s normal harsh glare softened further, “Go on your twerpish journey or blast us off?”

Ash could tell the look on his face answered for him.

“Then do you wanna call a truce for today?” James followed Jessie’s lead as per usual, his own face softening. Perhaps it was the touching, tender moment getting to the so-called cold-hearts of the criminals. But… they had never seen the boy this… well, this emotional. And over them? Well, care wasn’t something any of them were used to. In response to the truce, Ash allowed a nod.

“Fine by me,” Jessie’s shrug was an attempt at disguising how much the twerp’s emotions were actually getting to her, “James, Meowth, let’s go get pizza. Talking about it made me crave it.”

“Really Jess? You still want pizza?” James wasn’t really surprised despite the rise in pitch.

“Hey, don’t let the nightmares win, y’know? It’ll be fresh this time and likely not laced with whatever nightmare inducing things the last one was.”

“You mean it won’t be old pizza left outside.”

“If I wanted judgment I would have asked the Boss. Now, I have no problems using our salary to buy myself a pizza and I will have no trouble eating all of it. Do you want some pizza too or not?”

“Jessie,” she turned to the bigger of the twerps who spoke her name. And the more sensitive out of them, as she had come to know over the years. Not sensitive as in James sensitive, but hey, for his size- Brock could easily pull off being a giant asshole.

“Hm?”

“We’ll buy,” the words sparked a narrow of her brows. Even across universes, there were some things that called for suspicion, “We can even tell you what we saw. But… you may have trouble believing us.”

Her suspicion faded, she knew him too well- she doubted he’d do something sneaky or nasty, “Hey, free food is free food.”

And with that the small groups began to make their way to the smaller city, far from the city where the opposite world had thrown them into the perfect representation of Hell. There was pure relief from the younger four, as they watched the banter and ease of their usual enemies.

May noticed how easily James laughed, how tall he walked, how light he was with each step. Their lives were far from perfect here. And May would be lying if she said she was completely satisfied with how they lived. But they were together. And they had been together. And they fought but they built each other up and there was no better companion for any of them than each other.

It was right.

“I’d take this over getting that wish any day,” the words came from her own companion. The trainer had finally dried his tears, Pikachu on his shoulder once more. She tilted her head before nodding.

“Yeah. Me too.”

[transgressivepistoleer]

Pistoleer Prologue and Chapter 1

For anyone who wants to know/readwhat I’m up to. WARNING: IS LONG

PISTOLEER

 The first birthday of a prince can really be made into an auspicious affair, especially if the royal family has yet to be deposed. As the royal family of Siteidel had not been deposed, the celebrations for the king’s only heir were quickly made into quite the bash. Every candle within the castle was lit, their glow reflecting brightly off gilded décor. Musicians composed praises, priests prayed for composition, and artists crafted images of both. Nobles near and far arrived to make sure they were seen at the occasion, and with them followed servants, daughters, possible future husbands for those daughters, the occasional pickpocket, and one slightly anxious person who hadn’t quite been born yet.

Wine flowed, toasts were given, secrets traded, and fish disturbed when twice people fell in their pond. The royal couple presided over it all with the regal pride that most parents exude, be they royalty or not. Throughout the city, people looked upon the shining castle, joy filling the hearts of some, resentment and greed paining the pockets of others. Beyond the walls, a lone wanderer gazed upon the twinkling city, rekindled his resolve, and set off. Farther away, a masked warrior received word of the celebration, and hardened his resolve to stamp such things out.

A few gods looked on. One was contractually obligated, two had made a bet about how many would fall into the pond, and a fourth was just bored. Each and more had their own realms to look after and thrive in, creating the highly complicated construct that their mortals called Heaven. Within these heavenly tiers there exist those of a more knowing nature. Such is the case of a mostly forgotten deity willingly sealed behind an impossibly vast glass wall.

           His confinement was of little issue to him. In fact, it had been a welcome rest from the turbulence that surrounded the universes creation. A chance of peace and quiet, a chance to marvel at the Creation he had helped bring about, a chance to read and record in the stone book that was fiercely clutched by burning hands. But now, something had stirred him. A sense that something had shifted in the world grasped the deity, shaking him to his core. Upon the other side of his wall and far, far below the world of Entria spun. A precious, blue marble that others such as the god had fought to protect; and home to many who could suffer for a poor plan on his part.

Casting his omniscient gaze to the surface, it became drawn to the impact that the celebration would have. The concern grew deeper, the upset in his mind not satisfied. So he threw his gaze further afield, past farms and hamlets, across the sea, and through a storm, eternally raging above turbulent waves. Here he stopped. Could it be…? No. Maybe, he could not tell. Even one as powerful as he could not see through the veil beneath lightning and water. He pressed on.

Far away from the glowing city; far away from the royal ruckus and pomp, lay an inn, in a town, at the foot of a mountain. Inside was a small spark of new life being brought into the world, flickering amongst the flames of her kin. The god looked closer upon this child, and foresaw something shocking. Possibility. It was faint, but there. And the god smiled at the potential of this newborn, returned his eyes to the book, and began to write:

‘Before she turned an hour, Cazpar Weber Sarkis was named. Before she turned a year, she was tired of hearing it. On her fifth birthday, Cazpar’s father left. On her sixth she found out why. In the fall of Cazpar’s seventh year, her mother went too. Two years later, Cazpar’s mother returned, but not all of her. In her tenth year, Cazpar first picked up a sword. In her eleventh, she abandoned the art. After her fourteenth birthday, Cazpar loved hearing about history. After her nineteenth, she would make it.’     End of Prologue

CHAPTER 1: THE SNEEZE THAT SAVED THE WORLD

The icy breath of winter slipped in with the fall winds for Waldundberg; plucking the richly colored array of leaves from gnarled forest trunks and casting them into the stone walls of the town. The natural surroundings of Waldundberg meant that sturdy resources were in abundance. The trees of the Ashur Forest provided food and lumber easily enough, but a more inventive method had to be found for the collection of stone.

The clacking of wheels echoed throughout the homes and businesses, the carts they carried bringing goods into town, and bringing resources into the towering Mount Initus. The bell of The Aether Congregation Church somberly rung the hour out to be 7:00 and the sinking sun confirmed. The ringing echoed through the robust homes and stone streets, and permeated the rafters of The Watchman’s Nip, in which Cazpar Sarkis hummed tunelessly while cleaning a glass, dulled eyes jumping from face to face. The usual crowd of Halmvians, a race Cazpar was stubbornly proud to be part of, had gathered near the eastern wall letting stories from the past year make a colorful atmosphere in the tavern.

Haggling and song slipped between the streams of tales, while others were content to sit and ponder. Scattered here and there Cazpar could see the few Siteid’s who had settled in town, most notably the old Tamrat couple by the fireplace. Father Tamrat had come through as a missionary, building the A.C church out of pocket for 25 years; and Mrs. Tamrat was undeniably the greatest captain of the guard ever. Cazpar smiled at the couple, and then gazed around in a contented fog. Cazpar noticed the paler form of a lone Yonsight man doing his best with one of those infernal puzzle ball games. Quite uncommon this far north, (Yonsight’s, not puzzle games,) but the mountain did always attract the adventurous. It is after all, very important. Mrs. Sarkis skillfully made her way through the patrons, ensuring all were having a good time. A bellowing laugh came from the knot of Halmvians and everything seemed ready to slip into the haze of a good night. Then the door opened.

Three Sirhan’s stood in the entrance, hunched forms shrouded in officious burgundy, masks of swirling patterns and jagged angles covering all but egg yolk eyes which gazed into the crowds. Cazpar swallowed hard. Usually only goods and ideas came from the mountain. Sometimes instructions about a new order or news from other lands arrived too. One Sirhan was uncommon; two meant someone was in trouble. But three Sirhan’s coming from the mountain, only once before. The worst war in history erupted across the three kingdoms soon after.

Cazpar eased her way from behind the bar and forcibly grinned at the masked visitors.

“Greetings and welcome to the Watchman’s Nip my good Irh’s. Ah, is there anything that I can…help…you…” The blank stares saw Cazpar peter out into awkward silence.

The leftmost Sirhan coughed gently. “We would be most inclined for your safest table please. Thank you.”

Cazpar grinned forcefully and quickly led the trio to the Watchman’s special table, the one that all taverns seem to have; a small piece in the far corner and facing every other table and, most notably, the door. The Sirhan’s slid into their seats and waved off Cazpar’s inquiries for refreshments. They then huddled close to one another and remained there, still and quiet. Giving a small shudder Cazpar hurried back behind the bar counter. Slowly noise began to return.

The door slammed open, killing the conversation again. From the dusks embrace five bards entered, the darkness vainly clinging at their swirling cloaks. The front one, a Siteid with a scraggly beard, laughed loudly at some unheard joke. He easily moved through the crowded room towards one of the few empty tables.

“Service, service for thirsty bards! Come now, where’s that Halmvian hospitality that we know and love ‘eh?”

Cazpar glanced at her mother with uncertainty. Three Sirhan’s may have had more presence than these bards, but bards were more… squidgy. No one really knew how to confront the zealous rouges, and they certainly were more capable to committing physical harm than a Sirhan. Cazpar took a sharp breath and headed from the oak safety of her counter.

           “Greetings and welcome to the Watchman’s Nip my-”

           “Well, what a missed sight right lads?” the head bard interrupted. “Two days on the road, vanished, right there.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis. He wore white, fingerless gloves that marked him as this group’s leader. His eyes were a startling shade of emerald. Both the gloves and his eyes contrasted with his dark Siteid skin. Around his neck was a small, teardrop pendant with an elegant wing design. Notable features quickly examined, Cazpar smiled.

“You flatter me, Master Bard; now then-”

“Oh one as fine as you can drop the ‘Master Bard’ nonsense,” he interrupted again. “You may call me Beenaale.”

“Alright then Ma—Beenaale…” Cazpar said sweetly. Internally she vomited. “Now then, what would you gentlemen-”

“And lady,” Beenaale said, motioning to the smallest of their group.

“…And lady,” Cazpar forced out, “Like to have tonight?”

“Oh, whatever food you’ve got in surplus dearie, and a round of whatever you’re not saving. Year’s End is almost here right?”

“Most astute…Beenaale. Not many from the road have your tact, so I thank you.”

“Not at all, not at all,” chuckled the bard, “No point in a fast unless you can indulge after it eh? And seeing as how it’s a tetch slow, why don’t you get yourself a drink and come join us, my treat.”

“I wouldn’t want to intr-”

“Nonsense!” Interrupted Beenaale again. Cazpar really wanted to stab him with a fork. “If you won’t come here and drink with us I’m afraid my poor little heart would break. Besides, Aihue here is probably dying for something else but business talk, aren’t you?”

Aihue sat silent. She was hunched over the table, hat and cloak leaving little for the candlelight to show. One of the other bards nudged her, and something vaguely yes-like came mumbling out. Beenaale laughed nervously.

“Must be more tired than I thought. Apologies, forgot she had the brunt of the night watches. Well, nothing a good stiff drink won’t fix, right?”

“Or a good night without drugging’s,” mumbled Cazpar.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing sirs, just tallying out loud,” Cazpar laughed. She smiled as Beenaale took the lie and headed back to the bar.

‘At least they’re expecting the cheap stuff,’ Cazpar thought, filling up the mugs. ‘It’s not like they’ll be paying for it anyway…’

Six mugs placed on a spinning platter, five unwelcome bards. Four of dark intent. Three Sirhan’s that see everything, and two knowing tavern keeps with one play between them. Cazpar wove her way back to the bards with a smile. It took quite an effort to keep it there when Beenaale put his arm around her waist.

“Ah, the greatest thing man has conceived! And liquor isn’t that bad either, eh’ my little Antoran?”

Cazpar’s smile turned to a grimace. She knew enough Bardic to understand the terms…intimate meaning. Thankfully, everyone was too focused on the brimmed mugs to see or care about Cazpar’s slip up.

“Something…wrong?” Aihue mumbled.

…Almost everyone then. But thanks to her interest, the rest of the bardic company now focused in on Cazpar.

“Ah, well…” Cazpar said, trying to think of a lie. She felt Beenaale’s hand tighten on her waist. A few drops sloshed out from the mugs on the tray. Mrs. Sarkis edged closer to the group. Even with one arm she was still a good sword fighter. A Sirhan shifted slightly. Their chair was hard.

                       “Ah, ah… Ugh, don’t you just hate it when the sneeze won’t come?” Cazpar said rubbing her nose.

           ‘Please let them buy it, please let them buy it…’ she hoped.

           Beenaale nodded sagely. “I remember one time, absolutely dreadful. I was down on the Longroad…”

           Cazpar breathed an inward sigh of relief. As Beenaale weaved his tale, Cazpar collected herself and slipped on her, ‘Of course sir’, face. Unfortunately, her break period didn’t last long.

           “So we hung him at dawn. Ah, but my mouth’s dry and your arm is probably tired dearie. Put it down and let’s have a damned good time, ‘eh?”

           Cazpar forced a giggle and lay the tray in the middle. Between Aihue and Cazpar sat Beenaale, and across from him sat his three other companions. Cazpar numbered them subconsciously with Bard#1 closest on her left.

           “Thank you darling, but now comes the hard part,” said Beenaale. He took a deep breath, and swept his hands over the tray. “Oh great Bard above, fickle in your laughter, intent hidden by your Gambit, and serviced by Angelic Host; for the love of all things just stay out of this, please?”

           Every bard held their breath. After a few seconds devoid of godly smiting, Beenaale smiled.

           “Looks like the fate of tonight’s events will be manmade. Perfect! At times like these, it pays to not have divine eyes on you…”

The bards reached for their mugs. Cazpar glanced at the opposite window, saw no-one, and hurriedly tapped Beenaale.

“Pardon mas-Beenaale, but there is a couple men at the window, and they’re pointing at you. Who are they?”

Beenaale and bards #1-3 quickly turned to look. Cazpar quickly spun the platter.

“Ah, sorry sirs, I could’ve sworn they were there…”

Beenaale shifted back, brow furrowed in concern.

“Ah, think no more of it. But if you do see them again, make sure your warnings a tetch more…discreet…Anyway, enough with ceremony.”

Beenaale lifted the mug to his lips. Cazpar was certain she shifted one of the beyond-a-doubt-drugged tankards to him. She hid her smile with her own drink. A worrisome player would soon be out.

“Now hold on second boss,” Bard #2 began. “I still can’t figure out why you’d have to hang him? I mean, yeah it sounds like fun, but all he did was step on that mouse.”

The Siteid lowered his drink and scratched his chin. “Well, in hindsight, I guess the issue was kind of silly…But still, he shouldn’t have swapped seats with ol’ Lee.”

He started to drink again.

“Wait, where was old Lee?” asked Bard#3.

Beenaale lowered his drink. “I told you! He was on me left, then-hang on a tetch, better if I just show you…”

He grabbed Cazpar’s mug and set both that and his own drink down.

“Ok, so here I am,” he said, tapping Cazpar’s drink. “And Lee was over here, then…”

Beenaale moved each mug in a flurry, frustration evident as his men kept questioning the obvious. Naturally, he left both the drugged mugs alone (or at least, the mugs he thought were drugged.) However, it seemed the Bard didn’t want to let an opportunity for mischief go to waste…

“So when does the sne-ah, ah, AHCHOOO!” A sudden sneeze from Bard#3, and the spasm knocked Aihue’s drink to the floor.

“Ah, sorry about that…” Bard#3 said, picking up the empty tankard.

“No fuss, no fuss, here!” Bard#1 snatched Cazpar’s drink and poured half into Aihue’s. He then took Bard#2’s and poured some back into Cazpar’s.

“Now wait a second, that’s not fair. Let me see yours boss…” Bard#2 said. Beenaale and Cazpar stared dumbstruck as three grown men, and more likely than not killers, began shifting and pouring and squabbling over who got what. By the time they were satisfied, Beenaale was massaging his temple, muttering about ‘the new generation.’

“Seriously, how did you three make it into my employ? It’s like Car’Veni just, THROWS its most INEPT bards to me!” Beenaale shouted at the three across from him. “Ugh, sorry dearie, but could you bring another round? I’m sure these three will be able to pay for two…”

“Uhm, of course Beenaale sir.” Cazpar said. “I’ll just take these here and-”

“Now hold on a minute!” Interrupted bard#2. Cazpar crossed her interruption tallies. “We’ll drink these one we got right here, right lads?”

The other two agreed heartedly. Before either Beenaale or Cazpar could stop them, they all drank deeply. Bard and server held their breaths. Bard#3 smacked his lips.

“Say, that wasn’t half ba-” His head slammed against the table before he could finish. Bard#1 jumped up, drew his sword halfway, and then went down himself. Unfortunately Bard#2 didn’t seem to have had that large of a dose. Unsteady as he feet might be, he was on them, and not happy with his boss.

“You said that you’d drug the second round,” Bard#2 slurred out. Beenaale sat impassively. He reached into a hidden pocket. Bard#2 snarled and threw a punch. He tripped over Bard#1 and went down hard. He didn’t get back up. Beenaale pulled out a long cigarette and lit it.

“Well then, looks like the cat’s out then…” Beenaale blew a thin line of smoke. Despite every eye in the room on him, he was unnervingly unnerved. “So here’s what I’ll be doing then. I’ll pay handsomely anyone who helps me carry these three…subordinates of mine outside. I’ll be personally watching my young Aihue here.”

He reached again into his cloak and drew a small, clinking bag. He shook it expectantly. No one moved. Half the cigarette turned into glowing ash.

“Alright, fine. Keep the downed ones. See if I ca-” Beenaale froze as Cazpar deftly plucked the smoke from his lips and ground it out under her heel.

“Of all the blo-” He began.

“Smoking will kill you.” Interrupted Cazpar, grinning at such pettiness. Beenaale tensed. He took a deep breath, set the bag on the table, and brought the teardrop pendant to his lips. With a dull *thunk*, Beenaale bit away a hidden cork, spat it out, and drank deeply.

“Ahh, that slaked it…” Hissed Beenaale, menace echoing beneath his voice. Cazpar shrank back towards the bar. From the pendant came a putrid odor, like someone had left a barrel of seed oil out to rot. Something dark swam through the bards’ eyes. Something with wings…

“Now then, new plan.” Beenaale lurched forward as if on strings. “I am going to be taking my little bard, and you dearie, with me back to Car’Veni. And I will split the head of anyone who’ll try and stop me, ok?”

The bards’ head jerked to face Mrs. Sarkis. “I assume you’re the one actually in charge? Heh, one can tell after long enough…Now then, I’m taking your little tavern rat for both her insult, and as compensation for my Angel’s Blood…”

At this mention, everyone in the room moved back. Of course Angel’s Blood… Cazpar grimaced. And you didn’t suspect why? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Beenaale loomed over the Halmvian. He lunged with the speed of a bullet and caught Cazpar’s arm in a grip of steel. Cazpar gasped. She could feel the bones in her arm shifting under his fingers. Plans disintegrated under pain and fear. Any thought of attack was discouraged by the thought of a broken arm. A few patrons rose, but kept back under the same thought. The bard yanked Cazpar towards him and grabbed her other arm.

“Now, now, don’t make this difficult,” Beenaale growled out. “If no one makes a scene, then w-AUGH!”

Beenaale released his ransom and grasped wildly at his back. Cazpar quickly snatched a half full bottle from the table behind her, saw the label, and swapped it for the candlestick a few inches further. Cazpar whirled back to face Beenaale. Thankfully, he was too preoccupied with his back to notice Cazpar, who promptly bashed him upside the head with her weapon. Beenaale stumbled. Clutching his head, Beenaale snarled at Cazpar. He reached into his coat, then cried out again. Cazpar took the chance, and smashed Beenaale again. He went down this time.

Aihue was leaning over the table, a smile wavering with exhaustion. Cazpar looked down at Beenaale. Apart from a nasty bump forming on his head, two equally nasty knives jutted out from his back. They were in surprisingly deep, seeing as how Aihue was barely conscious. Cazpar looked back to her savoir. Scratch that…Cazpar smiled softly at Aihue, who was now snoring on the table.

“All right you lot, let’s get this place cleaned up, shall we?” Mrs. Sarkis began moving about, stirring the others from stupor.

“We can’t keep them you know,” said Mrs. Tamrat. “Bards bring more bards, and that’s the last thing we need…”

“Wise as ever,” Mrs. Sarkis said. “A tetch morbid, but could Spindle look after them?”

Father Tamrat shrugged. “Don’t see why not. If they antagonize him, then it’s their funeral.”

“Aihue could stay though, right?” asked Cazpar, who was carefully taking out the knives from Beenaales’ unconscious form. “As fellow victims, I personally vouch for her compliance, at least for tonight.”

Mrs. Tamrat furrowed her brow, but any comment she might’ve made died to the sound of three chairs scraping in unison. The Sirhan trio moved through the room in their own bubble, patrons hastily moving aside from their path. They came to a halt before Cazpar. The lead Sirhan looked her over with expressions hidden by their mask. A slight turn, chittering of approval from the others, a turn back to the Halmvian girl.

“You are the one we decide shall come. Your name is Cazpar, yes? We may leave now or in six hours. When you have had time to rest.”

“Now just hold on little Irh’s,” Mrs. Sarkis began. “She just had herself a little ordeal, didn’t you dear? I don’t know what cause has you come down from Initus, but-”

“Then we leave in six hours,” the lead Sirhan cut in. “As for causes, ours is meant to be hidden. We may tell you it comes directly from Muse themselves the Si’cavalk, Mountain Lord.”

At the mention of the Sirhan chief of Initus, Mrs. Sarkis froze. Someone coughed awkwardly.

“Getting late, the husband will be worrying…” Muttered a lumberjack. She carefully slipped out the door, and the rest soon followed.

“Don’t worry Eva,” a Cartman said. He and a few others had hoisted the motionless bards (minus Aihue, who had been carried out by a placating Mrs. Tamrat.) “We’ll make sure Spindle gets the news.”

The door shut. Cazpar moved off to her room in the back; Mrs. Sarkis wouldn’t hear her daughters’ pleas to help clean up, simply stating the importance for rest. The Sirhan’s moved close to the stone fireplace and huddled down to wait, taking comfort in the grey slabs.

Cazpar’s room was sparse at best. She never found the time to fill it with much besides clothes and a few books. There were a few nick-knacks here and there. A stone she received from her first visit to Spindle. A practice sword broken in half from an event Cazpar still felt guilty about. Carefully placed inside her wardrobe was her best kept treasure, a single dragon scale her mother gave her; the only memory she wanted to keep from her time in Siteid.

Cazpar brought the scale out into the full moons light to admire. Flecks of gold sparkled along the triangular face, and with each tilt a veritable rainbow splashed across it too. Cazpar carefully set it back, and shifted into her nightclothes. She fell onto her bed and sighed. She didn’t want to go up the mountain, she really didn’t. Situations and possibilities whirled about in her mind’s eye, none of them very good. The cart will break on the way up or down, Muse wants some kind of bone sculpture made and I’m the best choice, Muse is going to question me about…him…

Cazpar rolled to see the moons. Dominating her view was Angelo, shining in pale gold splendor. In younger times, Cazpar thought that that was a silly name for her best friend, and called her Lunette. But that was long ago and she’d outgrown such fantasies. Peeking from behind was the second moon, a disturbingly white thing named Harlequin. That one always made Cazpar uneasy. If you looked hard enough, you could see a faint grin etched onto the surface. Cazpar never looked that hard. She turned over and fell asleep. She dreamt of beetles. And clocks.