#enough to go with the 'beast' name calling without reading as... well-

[whatudottu]

Thinking about fucked up dead people clone human Predaking again- have a gaunt but muscular dragon!

[kleptokure]

Deceit's Favorite 🃏

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN!Reader

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

This is bad, you thought to yourself. The outcome of your arrival in Beast-Yeast is far worse than you would have ever thought.

Yes, you expected to encounter the Beast with Deceit engraved into their essence, but within the hour you stepped foot on the foreign terrain? You were not prepared to reunite with your old friend all of a sudden.

Being one of the first cookies to be given a Soul Jam, you assumed going to Beast-Yeast would not be a challenge for you. Yet current circumstances prove you incorrect. Now you wish you stayed in Crispia, where the air is not so bitter.

As much as you would love to rescue Pure Vanilla from his absolute contrary personified, there is an obstacle surrounding your shelter.

You are well aware that Gingerbrave and the gang are accompanying Pure Vanilla Cookie, and a battle of them versus one mere cookie seems like an easy fight. But Shadow Milk is a special cookie, which is known to most who are aware of his being. The beast knows the trauma his main opponent withholds and would not hesitate to use it against him.

Speaking of Shadow Milk Cookie, you are currently pondering over how he located you in the first place. Your expectations were for his full focus to be on his "Soul Jam thief," but it appears your dough, and crumbs, is much more important in his reality.

Surprisingly, his encounter with you was far from destructive. In all honesty, you will admit it was leaning closer to bittersweet.

Shadow Milk Cookie had a lot to say, of course. His words were laced with jeers, flirts, yet betrayal at the same time. Though he did say something along the lines of forgiving you for not standing by his side eons ago.

It comes as hard to remember the exact words, as your mind is fuzzy with all this information. You might be concentrated on the romantic parts of his speech more than you should be.

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt stop, hearing knocks on the front door to your hidden hideout. It must not be so hidden if the one cookie you scurry from has managed to locate you. Shadow Milk seemingly possesses eyes all over the place, though you could have predicted that part.

There is no point dragging out the eventual conversation awaiting you pair. With that said, you pick yourself up and walk towards the door.

Having opened the door with a rigid gaze, you find there to be no cookie to return your stare.

Great, another trick. You should have guessed that. Now what? Is he going to be inside your house when you turn around? Candlelight dinner with an empty seat calling your name?

Before you get the chance to close the opening, a piece of paper finds its way slapped onto the middle of your face.

With dread, you tear the sheet off and hold it before your eyes, reading the text it has engraved into itself.

It's... an invitation? To a show, to be exact. The reading says,

"YOU, yes, YOU are invited to a one of a kind show!

Don't be late, as I’d be very upset if you were.

From your dearest jester. XoXo <3"

You feel a warmth in your dough from the heart included at the bottom of the sheet. You almost tore the paper just to rid of a feeling caused by him of all cookiekind. The weather here has to be the cause of your sickly feelings.

In any other situation, you would refuse without a second thought (that's what you tell yourself). But Pure Vanilla is walking a path of danger, and you will do what you can to change that for your friend.

Even so, the candlelight dinner you expected to occur now comes as more preferable.

Looking further down, you notice the time the show host requests you arrive is a few five minutes away. He was kind enough to give you a step-by-step map to the location.

The short notice matters not, as you have nothing better to do. Spending all this time huddled up in a random shack is not what one would call time well spent.

Gathering yourself up, you take you and your crumbs out into the eerie outside of Beast-Yeast. With the map given, you follow the path, each step closer to meeting the volatile cookie of deceit.

It is nothing less of a short trip, arriving at an isolated place hidden by the trees. The wind brushes by to rustle the decaying leaves. There is no more than 10 seats placed in an organized manner in front of a puppet stage, even though you are sure to be the sole cookie watching his upcoming act. Alongside the marionettes he controls, of course.

Finished with taking in the environment, you walk towards your seat before a familiar voice stops you in your tracks.

"Well, well, well. Lookie who finally decided to show up!"

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. If you had fallen to his side long ago, you would say the sight of him takes your breath away. But that would be silly to even think about at the moment.

"...Shadow Milk Cookie."

"I know, I know, saying it never gets boring, amirite?" He chuckles, floating in his casual manner to give a little twirl.

"The STAR of the show has arrived! Oh, but am I talking about you, orrrr am I talking 'bout me?" Shadow Milk sends a small wink your way. It seems like now that reunions have passed, getting comfortable with you comes natural to him.

"We need to talk—"

"Now, now, take a seat. The crowd is trembling with excitement!" A selected puppet appears next to you, hand pushing you to your spot. A front seat right in the middle. Aren't you just the luckiest?

Even though more crucial topics could arise, Shadow Milk Cookie is determined to get his way. You can do nothing but comply.

You should raise your weapon to save cookies from his future plans. But that all comes to a stutter whenever you see his face; his very pretty face. Your gawking gets cut short when a spotlight is directed on the act before you.

"Once upon a time, there were two cookies. Two cookies who were veeeeery in love, might I add!" He stupidly makes the two puppets kiss, creating a few mwas for extra effect. The brainwashed cookies around all "aww."

If it were a cliche romance story between two unknown cookies, you would not have been bothered. Yet shown by the cutouts he made quite well, the two cookies in specifics were no other than you and Shadow Milk Cookie. Must he make this insufferable to sit through by bringing up feelings from the past?

"They were busy cookies, too. Like, all of the gnats around depended on them!" You dislike the use of the word gnats, your iced eyebrow furrowing.

"But oh dear! One day, a certain cookie got tired of those puny creatures, never appreciative of what was given..." The cutout of Shadow Milk Cookie is seen with angry eyebrows. It's almost laughable.

"Soooo, Shadow Milk Cookie stopped helping out the doughbrains. All of those ungrateful cookies deserved to be crumbled instead!" His voice takes on a more passionate tone. Cheers of agreement erupt from the tiny, feigned crowd.

"Shadow Milk Cookie tried to reveal to his beloved partner the deception in reality, but guess what?" You already anticipate his next words.

Your hands clench into fists; the memories of the exact scene he portrays pouring through your head. Shadow Milk is not the lone cookie whose face comes to mind. The other beasts, whom you were close with, make an appearance too. Their faces of shock at your disloyalty still upset you to this day.

"HEY! Eyes up here, silly! I’m not done yet!" Shadow Milk Cookie snaps you back into attention. Making sure he has your full focus, which he adores, he continues on.

"Ehem. But then... [Name] Cookie BETRAYED ME! Yes, ME, out of all cookies! When I was so loving towards them!" The crowd of puppets gasp, mutters heard along themselves.

"Oh, the terror, the drama, the heartbreak—"

"Shadow Milk Cookie!" You interrupted his sob story, which is when you jumped out of your seat. Listening to his narrative for any longer is not what you would describe optimal.

The jester releases giggles, storing away his puppet show with a poof. His dough in the air, Shadow Milk flies over to you.

"Wooow, big reactions from the crowd! Didja love it? I can tell you loved it." He bats his multicolored eyelashes at you, a twinkle of amusement shining in his eyes.

"Stop with your child's play. There are crucial subjects to speak of!"

"Mmmm, like what—Ooooh! Are you talking about that Soul Jam THIEF? Awwwh, are you offering to help me take em down, maybe? You are just the sweetes—"

"No. You need to stop what you plan for Pure Vanilla Cookie." Shadow Milk Cookie rolls his eyes at your heroic words, showing he dismisses your request.

"Ugh! Honey, are you really siding with HIM?" His tone suggests he believes he is in the right.

"Tsk, I know he'll ultimately turn into me, but why not have the original? HELLOOOO, I’m right here!" His hand waves in front of your face, as if trying to rope you back into reality.

"You'll bring Earthbread to ruins! Your Soul Jam was taken due to your own villainy, Shadow Milk. Leave Pure Vanilla alone," you spoke with a stern tone, like it would ever leave an effect on the cookie floating before you.

"Oh, [Name] Cookie, how they've corrupted your sweet mind..." He looks into the gloomy sky, feigning a face of reminiscence.

"Hmmmmm, maybe, just maybe I'll listen to my dearest star if they apolooogizeeeed!" His words are nothing but lies, but fooling you at least once is his on his bucket list. It wouldn't hurt to give it another shot.

"...Apologize? For what?" Seems like your interest is peaked!

"For what?! There are many, many, maaaany things for you to grovel about, ya goof!" His face is just close enough to catch a whiff of his sweetly scented dough.

"But, I suppose for, y'know, not being there when I got out of that stupid tree!" He decided with a tilt of his head.

"What? I am not the one who sealed you in there, even though it was well deserved," you replied. Shadow Milk Cookie decided to ignore that last part.

"No, no, not that! Don'tcha know how sad I was when I got out of there?! I looked for your face between all those pathetic faeries, but you went GHOST!" He places his hand over his chest like the drama queen he is.

"How could my favorite cookie miss my long awaited return!" He cannot be serious, but deep down, you know he speaks with his crumbs included.

A simple sorry is all you have to say, and it isn't like losing a bit more of your dignity would hurt. For your fellow cookies, you tell yourself.

"Fine. I... apologize for missing out on your reappearance." Shadow Milk Cookie's façade of misery is gone in a snap. Instead, a large, toothy grin covers his face.

"Now, you will leave Pure Vanilla Cookie with his Soul Jam intact, yes?"

"Ah, you don't know how long I've awaited to hear that come from your lips!" Ignoring your question entirely, Shadow Milk nuzzles his cheek against yours, similar to a cat. You yourself are unaware of why you failed to pull away.

"Shadow Milk Cookie," you repeated, as he decided to leave you unanswered. He huffs before giving you a proper response.

"Right, right. I'll leave Silly Vanilly alone, all because you're such a good cookie!" Most of you refuses to believe him, but for now, gratitude will be expressed on your side.

"Thank yo—"

"UNDER ONE CONDITION!" Witches. There never fails to be a "condition" with this cookie. You remained silent, waiting for his next words.

"I. Want. A. Kiss!" With each word, he positions himself even closer than he previously was, the blueberry aroma he carries wafting your way.

He is far from surprised when your mouth remains closed. You can get a little shy at times, he would say. In truth, you really are just that incredulous.

"Earthbread to [Name] Cookie! Do I gotta repeat myself?" He laughs, finding your current expression to be hilarious.

Regaining your state of mind, you find yourself unsure of what to say. Of course you should decline without a second thought. THE Shadow Milk of all cookies is asking you for a kiss! Who in their right mind would say yes?

Oh, but as the case may be, you were never in your right mind.

"I..."

"I, I, I." Shadow Milk Cookie mocks you, yet it is endearing in his own way.

"C’mon, you know you love me! After all, I can recall certain events that would deem us a bit more than the rivals you act like we are," he chirped, making your mental state even worse as the warmth of his hand lands atop your shoulder.

You want to rid of those memories, you've attempted! However, it is much simpler to say than to do when trying to erase experiences with the one cookie you have ever cherished.

This is why you keep your identity hidden, why no one is aware of the power you hold underneath. It would only lead to more questions of the beasts back then, and that leads to prying about Shadow Milk Cookie.

You will admit that your relationship with Shadow Milk was very different compared to now. He and you shared many tender memories. A couple instances were slightly too tender to label you pair as mere friends. However, the both of you were put under too many responsibilities to ever have a chance to change close friends into something more.

Although, that never eliminated the love floating in the air, and it surely did not rid of the rushed kisses taking place in empty classrooms.

While memories from the past appear, feelings from back then aren't too far from showing up as well. You are very knowing of what said feelings were in specifics. Arising emotions can go for both you and Shadow Milk Cookie, but facing that is mortifying.

The sudden movement of your hood being pulled away struck you back to life.

"Pssh, what good will this hood do? I want to see your entire lovely face when our lips meet!" Shadow Milk Cookie brought his levitating to a stop while you were distracted, standing right before you.

"Who do ya really think you’re hiding from in this old hood? Me? Hahaha, that's hilarious! Perhaps I ought to dress you in attire matching my own?" Your stomach feels heavy, and you hate the fact that you cannot discern whether it's with butterflies or dread. Maybe a mix of both.

"You must promise to not bring harm upon any cookie." Now you're making conditions, but you know you only say them to ease your conscience regarding your soon betrayal of the others. Asking the Cookie of Deceit to make a promise has a predictable conclusion.

"I've been trapped in that cursed tree for so long, deprived of touch I longed for from you! Must you make your beloved wait any longer?"

You can't. As pathetic as that sounds, you cannot leave the beast to wait. That being mentioned, you press your lips to his smooth ones, your partner squeaking from your bout of boldness.

Perhaps Pure Vanilla Cookie can find it in his dough to forgive you for your greed. He should come to know that Shadow Milk is a very manipulative cookie.

Or maybe you never put up much of a fight to begin with.

Shadow Milk melts into you afterwards, returning your kiss with more power than you gave. It's clear to see just how eager he was to have you back in his grasp.

His arms hold a tight grip around your neck, putting the entirety of his weight onto you, with one leg lifted into the air per usual. Repeatedly giving you small kisses afterward, Shadow Milk can't help but giggle.

Underneath, he's giddy at the fact he managed to slip under the walls you placed for him, which, if you asked him, such barriers should be nonexistent for him, your dear soon-to-be spouse.

Besides that, now he's certain to recruit you towards the livelier side of the beasts! You might've refused to call yourself such a term at first, but it was inevitable.

He can't wait to show you off to every cookie on Earthbread, to flaunt how you discovered the lies of the world and came into his loving embrace willingly. Your duo comeback will shake every crumb without a doubt.

Pure Vanilla Cookie's face will be priceless! With you here now, the finest performance he has ever hosted can only be awaited.

He hopes those doughbrains are prepared for a major plot twist.

[wernerherzogs]

some of my fave buddie fics for anon in no particular order! please mind all the ratings, tags, and warnings of these works while browsing:

plot-focused:

about the present series by Amiril

The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

boys, when my baby found me by nondz (pinkjook)

Three months later, things are mostly back to normal.

And then there's an accident.

the city is a jungle and i’m a beast by putanauhere (TRUST ME.)

“There are no wolves in Southern California,” Buck states, another bit of trivia. He just doesn’t know it’s a lie.

The Things All Come and Gone by moodlighting

“I didn’t—it’s not that I couldn’t be alone,” Buck explained, pausing to find the right words. “I just. Wanted to be here.”

I Broke What You Gave Me, But You Kept Giving More by rcdwings

Evan Buckley wakes up without eight years of his memories with some guy named Eddie Diaz on his bedside. Which could mean nothing.

lonely little love dog by littleghost

When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much.

kerosene by mandolare

He doesn’t— need more of Eddie. This is enough. This is plenty. This is more than anyone else has of him; he can deal with the marrow-deep want that’s begun to choke him every once in a while.

all my little words by youbetsya

Eddie: Did you just send me an email??

Buck: yeah lol

Eddie: Why…

I dont think you’ve ever emailed me actual words before. Just stuff to print when your printer is broken

Buck: did you read it?

Eddie: Not yet

Too busy trying to figure out why the fuck you’re emailing me

Buck: just read it dude 🙄

instructions on not giving up by Wildehack (tyleet)

Eddie gave up in July.

Live and (Don't) Let Die by xylodemon

The guy gets straight to the point, asking, "What do you need?" in a dull, bored voice.

"My best friend is going to die. I want that to… not happen."

"No small feat, bringing back the dead. And it comes at a cost."

It's Eddie. Buck says, "Yes," without a second thought.

good pretender by likeshipsonthesea

“Okay, but what are the rules?”

Ravi stares. “The rules for…?”

“Casual sex.”

Ravi continues to stare. It is 5:39 in the morning.

i can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone) by Talls

In which Eddie keeps secrets and Buck is incredibly normal and rational and even brave about his reaction to this.

here’s my hand, there’s the itch by signetsealed

"I wasn’t kidding when I said I could talk about Chris all night,” Eddie says. His voice is quiet and close in Buck’s ear. “But that’s not why I called.”

been lost for a while by trysetmeonfire

Eddie's wife has been dead for two weeks. There's a firefighter in bed five. These are not necessarily related facts, but Eddie will have a hard time separating them out, later.

Downward Facing Doggy Style by Survivah

Eddie and Buck pick up a new hobby while Chris is in Texas.

slaughterhouse by kithmet

Eddie announces he’s leaving. Buck, naturally, begins a slow descent to madness.

Choosing Joy 'Verse series by ithilien22

In which Eddie mends fences with Chris, starts something new with Buck, and navigates the complex emotions he has around his parents.

 the sweetest apparition by hyruling

Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

pluperfect by unreckless

Buck is always good for a ride to the airport. He’s good at lots of things, like being a good friend and goodbyes.

beating the horse by doitgently

Eddie is moving to Texas. Buck finally figures out what he wants.

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim series by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)

In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order.

you drew stars around my scars by ladieslunching

Someone at the 118 doesn't know how to leave Buck's clipboard alone. Buck would be a lot more upset about it if it didn't bag him the love of his life.

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind.

ripples all the way down by iriswests

This is the tumultuous road to finding out what Buck truly wants, paved by pebbles.

throw a bone, i’m finally home by fleetinghearts

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie says softly, torn between unbearable fondness and an ache that threatens to crack his breastbone.

when everything's on fire by beartowns

Eddie and Chris move in with Buck after a fire. Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, buys a house with Eddie, and realizes he's in love. In precisely that order.

ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies

The problem is—well.

Actually, backtrack for a sec. There were a few problems.

Eddie’s got a whole lot of them, lately, and maybe that was The Problem.

Something in the Air (Is Giving Me Bad Ideas) by paramountie

After Christopher comes back from Texas, Eddie makes an important decision: he is not going to blow up his life anymore.

crossed the muddy line by Anonymous

Eddie Diaz is from El Paso, Texas; a fact which accounts for both more and less than he ever expected it to.

the tortured poets department by colonoscopys

The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.

still by brewrosemilk

For the first time, Buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. Dirt to dig at. A door to break through. Something. There’s nothing.

somewhere to stand and stay by teaspoon

“What are you doing right now?” Eddie asks. He sounds distracted; Buck can tell immediately that he’s driving.

authentication by v_greyson (greyson)

"Yeah, Eddie picks the guys so I don't make stupid decisions," Buck says, flicking through menus to pick a new racetrack.

The combination of Hen munching peanuts and looking back and forth between them makes Eddie feel like he's a zoo exhibit. Best Friends, captured in the wild, still feral, exhibiting behaviors heretofore unknown to science.

"Well, good luck with - all that," Hen says pointedly to Eddie. She is definitely not talking about the video game.

keeping score by arcanaphora

After getting dumped, Buck is left with two tickets to a weeklong cruise. Eddie steps in to support a friend in need, but complications arise when his friend becomes his fake husband. All's fair in love, war, and trivia.

if i said you could never touch me by marviless*

Eddie pulls back from him with a half-confused, half-concerned furrow in between his eyebrows. “Buck?”

Buck sags against the wall. “Sorry,” he says, wiping the back of his forearm against his forehead in a mixture of frustration and newfound exhaustion. “Sorry.”

Counting Pulses by tinyydancerr*

Eddie Diaz’s life is going great. He’s in therapy, he’s got a great girlfriend, a great kid, his friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams, and his best friend just came out to him.

Now his best friend is dating their new friend.

Things are going great. He promises.

porn-heavy (only a few of these are straight up pwp though):

Feel You Forever by semperama

“Is this…” Eddie meets his eyes again. “Is this new?”

a mess of my creation by Anonymous

They’re in the fucking bunk room. There’s someone snoring in the bed over by the bathroom, a good twenty feet and two beds away, and Buck doesn’t know if it’s Hen or Chimney or Bobby, but they’re in here, they’re asleep, and this is awful, this is so fucking unprofessional and if they get caught they are going straight to HR.

blood in the highs and count the stars by seachanged

“Go on,” Eddie says, nosing into the soft spot under Buck’s jaw.

Buck laughs, a little hysterically. ”You’re not serious.”

look straight ahead if you like it slow by hattalove

“This gets you going, huh?” Eddie grins, propping himself up on his elbows so he can move higher on the bed, reach the pretty pink bow of Buck’s mouth. “Devotion? You being it for me?” He stretches up toward Buck’s ear, whispers: “Monogamy?”

hang me up on your bedroom wall by eddiegettingshot

“You’re going to be a great father someday,” Eddie says eventually, because he’s worse than he used to be and Buck’s reverent eyes make him feel—they just make him feel.

“Eddie, I—”

“You are,” he repeats, firm. “Don’t you think I’d know better than anyone?

buck and eddie's red hot infidelity summer series by cranberrymoons

He’s not thinking about it. He’s not. He’s definitely not.

the moon like a spotlight by dykeries

Three months after Eddie moves to El Paso, Buck comes to visit.

this ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living by glorious_spoon

"You guess," Eddie repeats under his breath, but he sounds amused. He sets the boxes down and kicks the door shut behind him to wind through the chaos of Buck's half packed away kitchen. "You're insane."

love's not a game by thatbuddie (talktothesky)

“So that goal, huh?”

Buck groans, his hands clawing at the sheets beneath him as his toes curl up, the fire that’s been building up inside him for what feels like hours sizzling and uncontrollable in its path through Buck’s body.

i might kiss you on the back of your neck (because it’s christmas time) by sibylsleaves

Five Times Captain Diaz and Recruit Lieutenant Diaz fail to sleep together and one time they do.

would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? by brattybuckley

Evan Buckley is currently on cloud nine. 

Well–

Honey on the Vine by sirencalls

Buck wakes up to an Eddie with stubble for the first time in months and refuses to let a good opportunity to go waste.

lock me down tonight by lecornergirl

Buck tells everyone Eddie talks him into it, but when it comes to Eddie, he’s never needed much convincing.

Mind Blowing Mess by EtoileGarden

"I’d like to have a threesome. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah,” Taylor eyed him for a moment, and then leaned a little further over the table, her chin in her hand. “Have you ever had one before?”

songs and poems and promises by lesbianrobin

“It’s crazy how different sex is with men,” Buck says, and everyone around him groans.

rodeo queen by okanus

“What’s the saying again? Save a horse…hm, y’know, I don't quite remember the rest of it.” Eddie can’t help the smile curving up the corner of his mouth.

“You’re an asshole,” Buck says, scowling. The tips of his ears are pink.

yes god don't speak by detectivemeer

“You’re staring.”

“What.” Eddie says. “No I’m not.” 

[zae-heeyyy]

Aegis

Summary: You defend your daughter from Micah. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,810 Tags: fluff, family, girl dad Arthur, angst, high honor Arthur Warnings: Violence, mistreatment of a child

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an: This was an anon request. I was weary about this one because I'm not a mom, nor do I spend a lot of time around toddlers, but omg exploring girl dad Arthur was so fun! Shout out to @emerald-ranch for helping me with a horse fact for this one! Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

Aegis: as in protection, means or method of defending

A pair of hazel eyes cut through the dark, shining like twin stars burning holes in the blanket of night. Those usually bright supernovas seemed dull now, washed out by the weight of the world. Your daughter's tiny form scooted in impossibly closer, and you bundled her up, swaddling her like she was still the wiggling newborn you'd held in your arms three years ago.

"Bea," you sighed, trying your best to shield her from the beast that was your frustration. Exhaustion had settled in your bones hours ago, pressing your patience paper thin. Sleep called out to you from the void, and you wanted so badly to answer, but your daughter reeled you back every time.

"I want Daddy," she whined, clutching the fabric of your shift in her little fists. 

You missed him too; she had no idea. In a time that seemed like forever ago, you and Arthur laid in this same cot, your fingers tangled in his shirt in the way your daughter's were in yours now. Motherhood terrified you, and after telling Arthur you were pregnant, you cried all through the night. Raising a child was daunting enough, but doing it with an outlaw in a gang seemed like a nightmare turned reality. 

Solid arms held you together in body and mind. He was your rock even though he was going through his own quiet panic. Arthur knew the harsh realities of parenthood all too well. Still, he knew the brightness, blooms, and blossoms it could bring, and he let himself want it more than anything. Making good on his second chance at having a family, he married you right away and devoted all of himself to you and the baby.

That warm summer night after your screams and her cries had died down, he bowed his head over her, staring without a word. First, one salty tear fell from his face and onto the blanket you'd knitted for her, then another, and another. You tried to offer him the dignity of silence, but your tears burst out with a sob. It was only then that he spoke, snapping out of his baby-induced trance, his eyes wide with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong at all."

And his baby loved him oh so much, the very definition of a daddy's girl. He was the one who protected her from spiders and wasps, the one who made her giggle til her face turned red, the one who'd lift her up on his shoulders and run amok through camp, and the one who snuck her candy when she thought you weren't looking. He was her Polaris, and little did she know, she was his entire universe. Leaving both of you at camp, even if only for a few hours, chipped away at a piece of his soul every time. In the present, you combed your fingers through her light-colored hair and kissed her on the head twice–one from you and one from Daddy, as you always told her.

"I know. He'll be here when we wake up, honeybee."  

And the tent fell silent, but your daughter twisted and shivered, unsettled by passing footsteps.

"Momma…" Her words came out smaller than her. "M'scared."

You wanted to tell her there was nothing to be afraid of, but you couldn't lie to her–not when there was a price on her father's head, not after Blackwater, and not after Colter. In yet another attempt to calm her, you whispered soft shhs. But then she spoke once more, a single word–a name, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Micah."

You sat up with the quickness of a startled doe, sweeping your eyes over your daughter. Tears stained her rosy cheeks, but she was otherwise unharmed.

"What about Micah?" The question came out more urgent than you'd intended, and she hid herself in your bosom. You hoped she didn't hear your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. 

"Don't want him to come here."

"Why'd he do that?"

She only shook her head. You peeled her away from you, wiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs before cupping her face in your hands. Your voice was loving but firm–a quiet, motherly demand.

"Bea. Talk." 

She vocalized as best as she could: "He's scary and mean."

And then, after a long pause, her small hand came to rest over yours on her cheek.

"He touched my face."

A curtain of red-hot wrath veiled your vision, and it took everything in you to hide it from the baby in your arms. No matter how big she got, she would always be that pink, wrinkly baby in the knitted blanket. You put on a stellar performance, eyes twinkling, your smile adding light to the darkness that'd settled over you. You reassured her that Daddy and Uncle Dutch would take care of that, that she had a whole family looking out for her, and that she was safe. 

In one last attempt to get her to settle, you laid back down, closed your own eyes, and began a slow hum of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." In the middle of the second run-through, she'd gone limp, finally.  You tried to follow suit, but your thoughts were louder than ever. 

Arthur'll be back soon.

Let the men dish it out. 

Get some sleep, get some sleep, get some sleep.

But your legs swung over the cot, and you left your eaglet behind in the nest as you soared into camp, sharp eyes scanning for your prey–a rattlesnake masquerading as a man. The drunk bastard saw you coming, flashing his fangs in a smug display of mockery. He didn't expect the beer bottle he'd been nursing to explode across his head, the glass shattering like a storm of meteors crashing down to earth. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, and you were on top of him in an instant in the only way you'd ever be–out for blood. A blackhole temporarily swallowed both of you as you slammed your forehead into his with all the force of two colliding planets. 

The shockwave drowned out everything around you–so much so that you didn't hear someone shout for Arthur and didn't notice your husband had returned just before you left the tent. Micah fought back hard, trying in his intoxicated stupor to twist free, but you had him good, your nails like talons breaking skin and cutting off his air supply.

An owl-like screech tore through your lungs as two strong hands yanked you away. Your husband's eyes locked onto yours, grounding you, clearing the haze of fury. Time seemed to slow as you saw yourself reflected in concerned chrysocolla-colored eyes.

"Hey now, hey, easy…"

Just when he thought he'd calmed his distressed mare, the snake hissed in the grass.

"Get control of your whore, Morgan!"

"Arthur," you caught his attention, him looking from Micah back to you, "Beatrice." 

At hearing his daughter's name, Arthur bared his teeth and dug his nails into his palm. Without thinking, he shoved you aside, and you knew if you let him get to Micah, all hell would break loose. Roles reversed, you grabbed at his sleeve with both hands, pushing your weight into your heels to keep him in place. Micah started a mocking chortle. 

"That seed of yours." He tried once again to rise up on his feet, "Ain't much hope for her. She'll let fellas buy her for a penny just like her momma."

His taunting stung enough for you to temporarily lose hold of Arthur, and he took his chance, sending the metal tip of his boot flying into Micah's chin. The devil incarnate spit out blood and chipped bone and let out a hoarse, guttural bellow of pain, but he didn't try to stand anymore. 

"Lucky she got to you first." Arthur spat, "I ain't stopping her next time."

Your husband stomped off with his arm around your waist, back to your lion's den where your cub was still sleeping soundly. Collapsing onto the cot, you dug your palms into your eyes, trying to ease the pressure of a building headache. Lantern light came into your field of vision as Arthur's calloused fingers pried your hands away. 

"That was stupid," he whispered, aware of Beatrice still sleeping. One hand clutched your chin, and the other moved your hair out of your face to get a good look at you, "I woulda' handled it."

The cold sting of a wet cloth against your bruises made you wince. 

"I know. Couldn't help myself."  

Arthur didn't say anything else and finished cleaning you up in silence. Though the presence of your family back together brought you a semblance of peace, you twisted the gold band around your finger, lost in hellish thoughts. You and Arthur made promises to each other and to your little girl, and you'd make good on them, no matter the cost.

"I'll kill him next time."

Arthur had stripped down to his union suit and nodded at you as he took his hat off and set it beside the photo of your daughter's namesake.

"I know."

Then, his face lit up. He stopped your fidgeting by taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Deep down, he knew you had it in you, but something about his wife, the sweetest thing he'd ever met, nearly ripping a man's head off his shoulders with her bare hands, struck a cord of pride within him. 

"Though I don't think anybody in their right mind would tempt you after seein' that."

And you felt embarrassed of your wild display of maternal ferocity. But Arthur, in all his tenderness and love for you, made all your doubt vanish.

"That's my girl," he whispered, holding his hands out.

You let him hoist you up into his warm embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest and rhythmic heartbeat could've lulled you to sleep right then and there. This closeness had become a delicacy since parenthood, and you savored every bite. Arthur sighed contently as he breathed in the scene before him. Though you were buried in his chest, you knew he was looking over at his sleeping baby girl while he was hugging you.

"Maybe one day she can spend the night with Abigail and Jack, and we can have some husband and wife time." 

You hummed in agreement, tempted to let your limbs fall weak in his arms. The sounds of rustling blankets woke you right back up.

"Daddy?" 

Arthur didn't let you go. Instead, he squeezed you harder, a silent thank you for the life you'd birthed, the life you'd given him. He guided you back to the cot beside your daughter, tucking both of you in and pressing a soft kiss to your foreheads.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm here," were the last words you heard before soaring serenely off the cliff of consciousness. 

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[charliemwrites]

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[chaiisms]

BALDURS GATE 3 PARTY BANTER PROMPTS LIST.

all of the following prompts are taken from party banter between the companions in larian studios' baldurs gate 3 (2023). there should be no spoilers! also, a disproportionate amount of these are from astarion and karlach. i'm not sorry.

I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, [ name ]?

You'll be as depraved as the rest of us in no time.

Friend of yours?

Were you always so sneaky?

If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

How are we not there yet? My feet are killing me.

This is what I get for trying to strike up conversation.

We're not going to have trouble, are we?

If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

Do you have pet names for each other yet?

[ name ]! Was that a joke?

You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

Given your own nature, are you really the one to judge?

You can read?!

I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted.

I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

Can't say I love what they've done with the place.

I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.

You have so much to learn. Repeat after me: honey muffin, sweetie pie, sugarplum.

Nice to be in a crowd of normal people for once.

So [ name ], how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

You seemed a million miles away just then.

I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, [ name ].

Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

Step one of starting a conversation: think before you speak.

I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently…

All right, just keep it down. We're conspicuous enough without your hyena call.

Not one for roughing it, I see.

Why not have a little fun?

You're right, of course. Forgive me.

My money's on you, [ name ].

The echoes - listen! They're coming from three directions!

Want me to carry you?

Feeling at home?

Treat them right, or you'll have me to answer to.

Oh, darling, would you?

No doubt they found me too intimidating.

A girl could get used to this.

Now I don't know what to believe.

Well - yes, it was a joke.

I know that, too. It just wasn't funny.

And here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Oh, I wouldn't actually leave. After all, where would you be without me?

You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

Well what would impress you, then?

Let's just stop this conversation right here, shall we?

Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here

You've clearly thought this through a great deal. I'm impressed and appalled in equal measure.

Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

I never was scared of the shadows.

I know you're not really as heartless as all that.

I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry.

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby?

Pragmatism, thy name is [ name ].

That's ironic, coming from you.

We're either very clever or very lucky.

You do not need luck to survive, [ name ]. Not when you have me.

That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky.

Stop gawking at the decor. This place is dangerous.

I can't tell if you're joking.

So, what's it like caring for someone other than yourself, [ name ]?

You think I'm beautiful?

I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

Yet another thing we have in common. We're two peas in a pod.

Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?

Use your words.

You gonna catch me if I eat a brick?

[ name ], I've heard you talking in your sleep.

Let's never speak of this again.

You can take a day off once in a while, [ name ]

Hey! Something bit me.

Cheer up. It might be all downhill from here.

I love a nice secret hideaway, don't you?

Think the bar is open?

[lu-is-not-ok]

Nocturnal Sweeping Intervallo teaser frame-by-frame analysis

That's right, you didn't think I was going to leave this teaser without saying anything about it, did you? In fact, I have. Way too fucking much to say really.

Before anything though, I wanna give a shout out to @chorin342 for the translations of the hanzi that shows up during the trailer, which helped A Lot with figuring out what awaits us.

Now, onto the trailer itself.

After the several seconds long title screen of the Intervallo, we're given another view of the setting, this time with a sort of tv screen-esque overlay. The whole teaser seems to be somewhat structured to mimic a sort of action movie trailer, potentially hinting to this potentially being a more action-packed Intervallo.

The text (which in case it's hard to read on the screenshot says "We were greeted by a dark street upon disembarking from the bus, illuminated only by faints strands of light.") accompanying this CG seems to be a part of Dante's narration based on its contents. We're likely seeing a glimpse of just the intro part of the Intervallo.

After a few seconds, the following pops up on the screen with a booming sound effect:

This simply translates to "District 8", further confirming information that is about to be revealed.

Just as this text disappears, the narration continues, saying "It was immediately obvious that we had arrived in the Backstreets of H Corp."

Similarly to what I and many other speculated, we are going to H Corp's District, and the Intervallo specifically takes place within its Backstreets.

Then, we get the two following bits of text:

This translates to "Hongyuan/Hong garden Life Engineering Corporation". Or, as the second one illuminates, the full name of "H Corp".

In addition to the reveal of H Corp being a company that specializes in engineered life, the character for the "Hong" part of the name is the exact same as used in Hong Lu's own name. The connection is already clear and we're barely fifteen seconds into the teaser.

Then we're onto the Identity trailers, with the above literally just being that. "Identity".

Both the Outis and Ryoshu Identities belong to the Heishou Pack - Mao Branch. Heishou translating to Black Beast, and Mao translating to Rabbit in the context of the twelve Chinese zodiac animals, as well as Wood in the context of the five Chinese elements.

I'm not going to go over the Identity trailers in too much detail, but I will mention things that I think will be important to the plot of the Intervallo.

The Mao Branch of the Heishou Pack appear to be a group hired by whoever they call "lord". Notably, both Identities express that their loyalty lays with the one that holds that title, rather than a specific individual. They're shown to be ready to betray the one who formerly carried that title at a day's notice, and are aware of their nature enough to deem themselves inherently untrustworthy.

In both trailers the Identities face off against average-looking gangsters. Those are likely to be the enemies we face off during the intro part of the Intervallo, before we run into any Sweepers.

According to the Identities' other voice lines, the Mao Branch's job takes place primarily during the night, potentially "taking care" of whatever target they're given by their lord by killing them in the middle of the night and letting the Sweepers clean them up before anyone can find any evidence.

Ryoshu's Identity here also makes a very interesting comment, about how the Mao Branch has "the same roots" as R Corp's Rabbit Pack, but "have grazed on different grass" and thus comparing them to each other is deemed stupid. Considering the implication of H Corp being a "life engineering" company and R Corp's technology in cloning, this might imply that their respective technologies are in some way similar in nature, yet different enough that it'd be stupid to actually compare them.

I also want to make a small observation about the aesthetics of the group. Specifically their color palette of black and yellow. It honestly kind of reminds me of the Udjat and Arbiters, and considering both of those are essentially military forces (hired by a private individual and a governing body respectively) it might allude to the Heishou Pack's nature as being not that unlike them.

Alright, back to the rest of the trailer.

We get another CG of the Backstreets, alongside what appears to be actual dialogue. (In case it's too hard to read, it says "A-are you sure we're going the right way? I don't like the sound of that weird song...") The most likely candidate to be saying this is Sinclair due to his tendency to stutter and appear nervous when he speaks, but it could be someone else as well.

Either way, this line implies that someone is guiding the Sinners through the Backstreets, potentially into somewhere dangerous and definitely suspicious.

Another text appears:

This literally translates to "round medicine", but it also appears to be the same word as used in two of Xichun's passives, that being bolus. Bolus in this context likely refers to a type of medicine administration, where a dose is introduced to the body to take effect over a short period of time.

Considering H Corp's "life engineering" (perhaps even downright bioengineering) tech, they might have a notable interest in pharmaceuticals as well.

Next scene.

Another view of the Backstreets, this time giving us a clear view of the Mansion taking up the entire goddamn skybox.

The text here (reading "The main streets are most likely teeming with those seeking to bring harm to the young master. We must venture an alternative path.") appears to be a piece of dialogue from an unknown party.

What we can tell about this person is that for one, they're the one guiding the Sinners through the Backstreets, meaning that the Sinners are completely at the mercy of this unknown party. The second thing we can tell about them however is that they're clearly aware of Hong Lu's identity and his ties to the Jia Family.

Considering what we've seen in the Identity trailers, I'd like to suggest that the Heishou Pack aren't going to be our enemies, or at least not at the start. They're likely to be hired by the Jia Family, and thus would have interest in keeping Hong Lu "safe". However, just because they want to protect the young master from harm, doesn't mean they feel the same way about the rest of the Sinners... if you know what I mean.

Next hanzi show up here.

This one translates to "complex" in the context of a building. This could potentially refer to the Mansion in the background, calling it a complex and thus potentially a sort of conglomerate of multiple Mansions. Alternatively, it could be referring to the dwellings Sweepers use, calling those dens a complex of their own.

After this we get a quick glimpse of a black screen getting covered with red Sweeper eyes and a rising noise. Likely foreshadowing as to what awaits the Sinners if they are to follow their new guide.

The scene changes again.

Multiple things. While I didn't capture it in this screenshot, combat takes place in the background here. While it's hard to make out because of the big fuckass hanzi in the way, it appears as if the Heishou Pack is fighting alongside the Sinners rather than against them, further implying that they're the ones guiding them through the Backstreets.

The hanzi here translates to "life insurance". This honestly could refer to a lot of things. It could refer to the Heishou Pack's role as being there to insure Hong Lu preserves his life. It could refer to H Corp's interest in immortality and thus insuring their own life. It could even potentially imply that H Corp deals with more literal life insurance, perhaps being in the business of insuring people with "spare lives" not unlike the situation of Pamela and Pameli in Ruina.

Notably, the "life" in life insurance here uses different characters to the ones commonly used in the term. However, this could just be an instance of PM being a Korean speaking company and thus not knowing the "proper" spelling of the phrase. A mistake in similar nature to them flipping Linton's first and last name, or calling "Don" a surname rather than a title in the original Korean script.

The dialogue here (reading "Looks like everyone in the Backstreets has been getting pretty plucky while I was away. Back then, I could even catch a glimpse of their faces-") is pretty clearly coming from Hong Lu, and continues on (reading "-Because they'd all be on their hands and knees whenever we walked past... Ah, what a wonderful change!").

This bit of dialogue establishes multiple things. For one, the Jia Family is important enough to garner extreme amounts of veneration from District 8 citizens, even out in the Backstreets. However, and more interestingly, for whatever reason Hong Lu alone isn't eliciting the same reaction. Whether it's because as Hong Lu says and there his been a shift in the status quo in the Backstreets, or whether it's something else that is causing people to not recognize Hong Lu as part of the Family is currently unclear.

Then, Ricardo Announcer. You get nothing from me about that, I just find it really fucking funny.

Then, back to the mayhem.

Here the text translates to "east" as in the context of a region. Which, makes sense. We are in the East region of the City now, this is likely a reference to that.

The dialogue here (reading "Oi, up yours with that wonderful change! How much longer 'til we get there?!") very likely comes from Heathcliff judging by the wording. It further foreshadows the suspicious nature of the Sinners' guides and that they might not be leading them where they think they are.

And, in case that wasn't already being made clear, in the background a wave of Sweepers just fucking descends upon the Sinners before static takes over the screen and we're back to the core event illustration.

So.

Let's summarize what we can gather from this trailer.

Our current destination, H Corp's District, is run by Hongyuan Life Engineering Corporation, a Wing with an interest in life insurance and pharmaceuticals. The Jia Family appears to be highly regarded in this District, to the point of likely being the ones who hired the Mao Branch of the Heishou Pack, a group specializing in operations under the cover of the night who are loyal to those holding certain ranks rather than to specific individuals.

Upon their arrival, the Sinners would come in contact with this group, who would recognize Hong Lu as a young master of the Family that hired them, and would thus wish to ensure his safety and likely return him to his home. As such, they serve as guides and allies for the first part of the Intervallo's plot.

However, the path this Pack leads the Sinners down is suspicious and long, and eventually leads them towards the Sweepers. There is a high chance that this was the Pack's trap all along, whether their motives are to take Hong Lu out because of an order from one of his siblings or to retrieve him and take him back to the Mansion while leaving the rest of the Sinners to die is yet to be seen. Either way however one thing is clear - the Black Beasts are indeed not to be trusted.

[cdnonymous]

Hi @muletia !! I’m a big fan of yours, mostly of your merformer drabbles… so I read and reread your Megaxolotl stuff…….. god I am in LOVE UGHHHH-

It’s rare that I write about others’ AUs… but yours just decided to clang to my brain like a nice accessory that I’m hyperfixating on

Sooo… I hope you’ll like my food ✨

(I tried to write the perspective of a more silent/antisocial reader but is fucking hyperfixated on merfolks… oh and it’s not GN it’s she/her… sorry for the GN readers out here…)

(I tried my best UvU✨)

- 💿 anon ^v^

~1700 words

•—��—•—•—•—•

Silence is Stronger than Words

The sun hit lightly on the beige curtains of my bedroom. The logs serving as walls for my cabin were softly lit and awakened me as well. This place was very isolated, like I liked it, my “neighbors” were kilometers away from me. I heard the birds outside, awakened far before I did, but so nice to hear as my groggy eyes finally decided to open up as fast as a rusty door hinge. It was already feeling like a wonderful day today, the next storm wasn’t announced before another week, or maybe 5 days? I don’t remember, all I care about is that morning coffee I’m about to brew.

I put on my morning pajamas and went downstairs as each step creaked in an almost nostalgic way under my feet, which only had toeless socks on. I looked at the time, 10:30 AM only? I’m far from being late, but still I’m sure he won’t mind if I come to see him early… he seems to like me anyway even if his low growls say otherwise. Besides he only growled at me once when I stepped in the water, which was his territory obviously, though I was oblivious to it at the time.

Now I have a fair list of things I have to try out with him, and another one that are big no-nos. I’m curious because he definitely seems to not know human language, but he’s smart, not a mindless “beast” like the books I’ve read told me. I’m sure that if he could talk he would… I think about it as I sit on my chair outside on my porch, my coffee in one hand over the cork coaster that I held with my other free hand.

I took notes, despite him not really engaging, I observed that he seemed to appreciate my presence over the weeks, dare I say days. He’s robust, cold as ice and maybe, just maybe, he has a little tiny bit of an attitude… but he never really hurt me.

At least not yet… After all, I don't think he’d have any reason to do so.

11 AM rings and I’m already with regular clothes on, casual country orange baggy T-shirt with linen ample shorts… I don’t like… No, I HATE Jeans. I take my notebook with me and a pencil, my bag with my “just in case” kit inside as well as a towel, now I’m ready to go see him. I put my sandals on and head outside on the trail to the lagoon… I called it the “Shy Lake”.

I named it this way because it was completely secluded from any other water current, no rivers, no smaller lakes, no canals, not even a little stream of water to let him get out. But hell, I don’t think he’s small enough to fit in a stream solely made of molten snow as it drives towards this pond of a lake. He might be at least twice my size, and I didn’t even get to fully see his body. He has claws that could tear skin apart like a mechanical saw cutting a frail log, the teeth meet the same criterias, and, according to his lower half, or what I could see of it, he seems to be half-axolotl and half-man, if I can even call it a “human” upper half.

I finally heard the familiar sounds of weak waves hitting the thin beach of the Shy Lake. And unlike the other times, he seemed to have noticed my presence without me calling for him awkwardly. I still didn’t have a name for him… well he’s big, silver and an axolotl… Megaxolotl? No this has way too many syllables for its own good…

What about just… Megatron?

I mean it sounds cold, deep and almost knight-like like him. He definitely lived stories according to the few scars around his frame, and if he was human he would not be emotionally available IN THE SLIGHTEST. Hmm… Megatron sounds cool too! When I got to shore, his buckethead was the only thing that got past the water surface, except a hint of his upper bust. His red coral eyes stared back at me as I gently waved at him with my usual calm smile, sitting on an erosion smoothed rock.

Something felt off in his eyes, instead of utter uninterest in what I was doing, he almost seemed to be demanding in his look, as if he expected me to do something, say something. This was new, usually he’d not really give a damn about me, or at least look uninterested, threatening and snarling at me to go away, which happened the first time we met. I looked away from my notebook, talking to him as if he could understand me.

— Do you… need something? I asked, my voice calm and patient as always, despite knowing he surely did not understand my words.

The only answer I got was a slight flicker in his eyes, and a low, quiet grumble, mirroring my low and patient tone, except in his own way and terms. I tilted my head a bit by reflex as I analyzed him, being the careful observant I usually was. He was completely unreadable, odd but it was normal for him.

— Did I make you mad? I asked, closing my notebook, not thinking there was anything worth writing for now.

When I asked this he looked conflicted, as if he was debating what to do in his head, as if I triggered something when saying this, which I highly doubt I did… right? I waited for him to do something… not wanting to overstep his territory after all. For an entire awkward minute or maybe more, he did not make eye contact with me, and I couldn’t see anything on my side either… All I could assume was that he seemed in some kind of odd dilemma with himself.

While in thought, I decided to put my notebook away from the rock since I currently had no use for it… I made a mistake by doing that… why?

Because I turned my back on him… and that’s when he thought it was the right moment to act on his plan. Yes, he acted like this, all conflicted and “lost” on purpose, to lower my guard so he could get me to turn around. Because he liked my quiet and composed nature, my voice which was as soft and gentle as the hums of a hummingbird’s wings, my emerald eyes as clean as the body of a dragonfly. And my soft… oh so soft skin without a single scar, wound or history… unscathed like a freshly polished nail, glittering under the sunlight.

My notebook barely touched the sand beside the rock I was sitting on when I felt his mushy, but oddly soft frame on me, making me lean backwards by natural reflex. I wanted to bolt away, but his claws threatened to slice my shoulders open if I even attempted that. He didn’t push me too hard, and it fortunately spared me some brain injury, and he knew it. Like I predicted, he’s calculating, vicious almost, he knows what he’s doing.

A low, calm growl escaped his maw, which was now showing something that looked like a satisfied grin, I was right where he wanted me to be. I was pinned to that damn rock, not liking being uncomfortable, worrying if my notebook was still dry since he bolted out of the water so quickly, maybe he splashed my notes by accident.

But fear… was never felt once, only surprise was the closest thing to feeling fear by itself. I wasn’t scared, and I knew exactly why; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, if he truly wanted to hurt me he would’ve done so already, I wouldn’t be alive.. and he knows it. I’ll repeat myself again, he knows what he’s doing. Yes I was breathing heavily, of course I was, the adrenaline rush coming from utter surprise won’t go away in the flick of a finger. And he knew I wasn’t scared, despite his obvious strength advantage…

— Hu-h… what..? I managed to mutter, my body, despite not being scared, was still reacting this way; shutting itself down as a defense mechanism.

At those very few words, he bumped his bucket helm into my chest… was he.. SNUGGLING with me?! When he did so, I was officially not getting up until he decided to… his low rumbles now almost sounded like purring, as if he enjoyed it. And me in all this? Heck I just froze as if I was put in that one liquid that freezes stuff instantly. He was still holding my shoulders, although his grip was less tense, less controlling, he just.. wanted to touch me…

Hold me, show me that he didn’t like to see me go despite his attitude, that he loved to hear my voice, even if it was simple questions thrown here and there not expecting an answer. He liked to see me smile when I got juicy info out of him, which happened rarely, how I was so… fearless around him despite his build, his claws, teeth… he was a beast… How could I not be afraid and not run away like a child crying for their mommy? How could I be so unfazed in front of him?

How could I see him as someone and not something?

Because it’s the truth, because he’s not a mindless beast, he wants to be appreciated, to be loved, or to feel love again in his eternal loneliness… he feels empty when I leave but complete when I come back. And while we cuddle together, while we enjoy the silence, we both know that talking would just ruin the moment. Like I said, he’s not a mere creature.

No… he is Megatron

•—•—•—•—•—•

I wanna do a part two… maybe with more cuddles? I DON'T WANT SMUT RN IM FLUFF-STARVED-

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 10/11

Week [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7] [8] [9]

Alright 9-1-1 is back (obviously) so very Buddie heavy and also a dive into the phone sex tag. Thank you authors for your service. 🫡

This is week 10 and 11 because sometimes you crash someone's Disneyland vacation and that takes a focus😋 (truly week 11 was like 4 fics)

Sterek: 2 Buddie: 17

A Pauper's Prince (Revised) by Welsh_Woman | @welshwoman1988 (2023•E•83.6K)

Thrown together by duty and honor, Stiles Stilinski of Beacon and Derek Hale of Triskia must not only navigate the trials of marriage, but also secrets from their past that seek to destroy them, the labyrinthine social life that tries to separate them, as well as pains that come from those that they believed in their corner. If they're lucky, they may just make it out of all of this alive. If they're really lucky, they may just find a love that will overcome all.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) | @dsudis (2013•M•116.6K)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

call me (when you need) by littleghost | @ghostlandtoo (2025•E•7.4K)

Buck knows what he’s asking. It’s been days since Eddie last called, since he left Buck desperate and aching in his bed, and Buck hasn’t touched himself since. He didn’t do it consciously. Buck just hasn’t been in the mood—or maybe it’s because, at the back of his mind, he remembers Eddie telling him not to come. Buck just has to wait for Eddie to come back home—he can wait. He can be good.

while i think of you by markofalover | @markofalover (2025•E•4.2K)

Just Buck speaking, apparently, is enough to get him hard. His brain starts hurting. Like he’s guzzled down a Big Gulp sized Icee in the summertime.

…or, Eddie slowly loses his mind and has phone sex about it.

Atomic Spiral by ameliahart | @melliehart (2025•E•13.3K)

And Eddie’s not jealous, of course not, that’s Buck’s thing. He thinks wryly of Tommy and sprained ankles, and an embarrassing fondness fills his chest. Buck’s so— Buck, wholly and completely, and Eddie misses him, is all. But that’s not why he’s doing it, honest. These people don’t appreciate Buck for who he is, not the way Eddie does. He just wants the best for Buck, okay? *** Eddie brings Christopher home from Texas to find that in his absence, Buck’s started sleeping around. Eddie is completely normal about that. (Or, Eddie starts cockblocking Buck. Things escalate from there.)

It Still Gets Cold in Texas by jukoist | @beforejuko (2025•M•9.5K)

Cara Alvarez of the El Paso Fire Department knows exactly two things about her new coworker Eddie Diaz. One: Diaz has a husband named 'Buck', who he left back in LA. Two: Diaz is Extremely Annoying about how much he misses his husband, the aforementioned 'Buck'. Or; Eddie moves to El Paso, and his new coworkers come to certain assumptions. Eddie... does not correct these assumptions.

when you're ready by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•T•4.3K)

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a shuddery breath. “I was right,” he says, voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, “when I said I didn’t know what I’d do without you.” “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” Buck says, and that’s almost enough to set Eddie off all over again. or: eddie moves to texas. three weeks later, he comes home.

you could do it on your own (while you're lookin' at me) by jbegins (2025•E•1.9K)

“But, ah, just a quick–” Buck trails off, gaping down at the tablet in his hands. He has to be hallucinating. There’s no way this is what Eddie has been looking at, right? His disbelief doesn’t come from the fact that Eddie has been perusing PornHub in the middle of the day; Buck would be a hypocrite for having an issue with that. The problem is that Eddie, his straight best friend, is halfway through a video titled Tattooed Hunk Gives Best Bro His First Gay Experience. Right there on the screen, Buck can see a dark haired man, naked and arching his back off of a couch. His hands are gripped tightly in the curls of the aforementioned “tattooed hunk,” who is deepthroating the dark haired man, his own cock in hand. or, another 8x08 fic where eddie was looking at porn instead of homes.com

the good shit in life is always free by jaekyu (2025•E•10.1K)

“Because I think it would be hot,” Buck responds. Eddie can picture him, leaning against the red bricks around the back of the firehouse. It’s where Eddie would hide, sometimes, so he could call Christopher. Before he came to El Paso, after it started to embarrass him how much he’d call and receive no answer. Eddie imagines the sun shining down on Buck, his ankles crossed and his hips tilted away from the wall behind him. Maybe a hand in his pocket. So nonchalant, as he asks about it. “It would be hot if you did it just because I asked you.” They travel the length of space and time between Point A and Point B; Buck and Eddie, over the phone, and Buck and Eddie, in person.

My lover’s got humour, she’s a giggle at a funeral by Moonraeken (2025•E•21.7K)

"I hear you, Eddie," Frank said slowly. "But, let me ask you this: Why does the idea of marriage with a woman make you so anxious? You’ve already created a family, in a way, with Chris. And... with Buck, haven’t you?" Eddie stiffened at the mention of Buck. His mind immediately flashed to moments - silent ones, shared glances between the two of them, a lingering touch, a way Buck understood him in a way no one else ever could. But he quickly buried those thoughts. He couldn’t go there. Not now. "I... Buck's not the same thing," Eddie said, shaking his head. "We’re just... we're friends. We work together. That’s all it is." Frank raised an eyebrow, his expression one of quiet understanding. "It sounds to me like you’ve already built a family with Buck, Eddie. A partnership - two parents, one child. You’ve been there for each other. You've supported each other in ways that go far beyond just friendship. Doesn't that feel normal to you? Comfortable? ~~ Eddie’s journey of self-discovery begins when he buys a sex toy, sees Frank, and has a chat with Brian. Maybe a little bit out of the order but they help him finally understand and accept his sexuality.

good dogs don't run away by withmeornotatall | @chronicowboy (2025•GA•1.1K)

"I, um, well..." Eddie shrugs, all nervous bashfulness that makes Buck want to put him in his pocket, maybe his ribcage, just to keep him close, safe. "I'd ask you to move in, but..." "Hate to break it to you, Eddie." His lips curl around the name differently now. Or maybe they don't. Maybe he's always said Eddie's name like it was his favourite word, a plea, a prayer. "But I've got another month of rent down on this place, so if anyone was asking anyone to move in, it'd be me." (OR: they're roommates, partners, best friends, what else is there?)

Ours by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•1.3K)

“Home sweet home.” Buck mumbles, stumbling as he tries to kick his shoes off. Eddie doesn’t correct him, tell him that it’s not his yet, because that’d be a lie. This place has been Buck’s home for nearly as long as it’s been Eddie’s.

you're more than a heart can take by Elgney (2025•M•19.6K)

“Come on, you’re telling me you wouldn’t consider sneaking into a storage closet with me?” “Obviously, I would!” Eddie was whisper-yelling now, and Buck wasn’t sure exactly what point he was trying to make, but he was enjoying every second of this. “But one of us is going to have to have restraint and it has to be the—the one with the most experience.” Buck felt his mouth drop open in delight. “Eddie,” he admonished. “Are you calling me a whore?” “No!” said Eddie, looking increasingly flustered. “I just mean—clearly you have the power to do—” he gestured at Buck, “that, so you have the—the responsibility to, like, use it. Responsibly.” “Did you just quote Spiderman?” Eddie propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands, groaning dramatically. “I’m going to die. The first date, and I’m going to die.” “Been there, wouldn’t recommend it.” --- Buck and Eddie and the first date.

til my lungs give out by dracculaura | @dracculaura (2025•E•16K)

“Is your offer still on the table?” “Of course it is, Eds. It’s always on the table. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, okay? I’ve got your back, remember?” “Okay,” Eddie answers, but Buck can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. “Eddie, you know I’d do… anything for you,” Buck says, heart beating so loud in his chest that he doesn’t know how his neighbors can’t hear it. But he’s going to say this, finally, he has to, because he’s sure it’s the only thing that will get through Eddie’s thick skull. “I’d bleed myself dry if you asked me to.”

i find your name, etched behind the frame by wafflesofdoom | @capseycartwright (2025•GA•1.6K)

Buck had always felt like he belonged, in Eddie’s house. It was one of the things Eddie had noticed, right away, when they’d become friends – Buck had just felt like he belonged, right from the beginning, his spare sneakers next to Eddie’s own on the rack, Eddie’s wardrobe filled with Buck’s clothes, half the ingredients in the kitchen bought by Buck. He was such an integral part of their lives, and Eddie wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. He didn’t want it to end. coda for 8x09.

Video Phone by Eros Heartache (Eros_Heartache) (2025•E•1.2K)

Buck gets a late night call from Eddie in Texas.

I'll take your chaos and your crooked in a heartbeat by heartbeatdiaz | @lonelychicago (2025•T•6.1K)

He shakes his head, trying to clear the thought before it can settle. Eddie isn’t dead. He’s in Texas, doing what’s best for Christopher. And Buck—Buck has to get over whatever this is. Swallowing hard, he moves to grab one of his own boxes, dragging it toward the hallway. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. A single, forgotten cardboard box in the far corner of the living room. In big, black letters, written with marker, it reads: EDDIE — KEEP. It’s not one of his. He is sure of that. or: Eddie leaves a very important box behind and Buck spirals.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (2024•E•73.6K)

Buck has always been like this, and he thinks he always will be. Eddie's not about to accept that as an answer. The fae world - and Buck's family secrets - have other ideas.

Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (2024•E•128.7K)

When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

[thetravelingtyper]

Beasts of the Deep...Pt 3 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Researcher! Reader Au)

Woken from your dreams you come face to face with the Beast...

WC: 3.1k

Part 2, Part 4, Masterlist

Warnings: None

From the Destruction of Leviathan by Gustave Doré (1865)

Thanks to @breakawayresin for editing ☺️

Chapter 3 - Daydream

A vale of light greets your closed eyes, stirring you from a dreamless sleep. You turn into your blankets a chill seeping out of your bones at their comfort, a faint reminder of the chill from the dream. As you curl into your blankets there is a rumble in your subconscious, one that reverberates through your whole being, you stir at the sound of quiet movement in your room. Your eyes open, and seeing over the plain of your bed there is a figure. You awaken then to your senses and lift yourself up, a sheet sliding down your body. As you push yourself up you meet eyes with a man, sitting legs open in your reading chair, eyes on you. Your eyes trace up his firm body, pale skin scarred with jagged puncture wounds, one particularly nasty one still looks raw over his heart.

But it’s when you meet his eyes that he moves from his watch, brown eyes lit with gold, you freeze, unsure of his presence, and yet some feeling of familiarity anchors you as he steps forward. He stands only in a pair of torn linen pants, their black fabric ragged at the ends. He stops at the side of your bed before lifting a knee and easily pulling himself onto the bed, resting on his knees, but when you frown at the intrusion he pauses, head tilting letting the curls on his head shift. 

You think him more creature then, as he says nothing but observes, but at a nipping of curiosity, you pull yourself up to match his position, as you can hear his steady breathing the pendant at your neck begins to hum, making you gasp. It lifts into the air, a constant stream of light flicking to life from within. His eyes change then, and a viscous gold fills his irises and you look at him in shock, it is then that he reaches forward toward his treasure.

A sculpted arm lifts, disregarding the amulet, and meets your cheek, the gold entrances your eyes in his and you lean into the warmth of his palm without much thought. The pendant, with your spark of recognition, quells its light and falls gently back against your chest. With its light faded the gold in his eyes vanishes other than the flecks in the brown. A sense of wonder sparks in your thoughts, eyes tracing over his body before they fall on the scar.

Your hand reaches to trace the scar and at the soft touch, he grunts in pain. Your fingers flinch back and you murmur an apology then but his hand takes yours and he presses your palm flat against his heart, you can feel the soothing beat from under his ribs and dense muscle. 

“What are you?” Your voice breaks the silence and he dips his head, his face suddenly in yours, nose pressing to your cheek and now engulfing your body. His hands wrap themselves around you and pull you gently to him.

“Levithan.”

The mumble of his name has him rumbling and he presses a featherlight kiss to your cheek before pulling back to look down at you, some shine of awe in his eyes. The moment lasts a while before there is a knock that resounds through your apartment.

You pull back and he releases you with a click of his tongue. You move off your bed and he follows, a large hand moving to your elbow, seemingly hesitant to be parted. You both pass into the living room and you approach the door. When you go to open it however the man pulls you back against him, rumbling in protest.

“Well, we gotta see who it is?”

He doesn’t speak but the downturn of his scarred lips is enough and you pat his arm connected to yours and open the door. What follows is a rush of movement.

As you open the door a large shape rushes forward in excitement but the man is quicker and in a slam the shape, a man, is lifted and pinned to the wall beside the door. You blink in shock when a Scottish voice coughs in shock.

“Aye, call of your dog Lass.” 

He says it with a sheepish smile as calm as any other moment. You blink at him in a stupor before Kyle clears his throat politely and pops his head into the room.

“We meant to ask if we may come in?”

You just nod before reaching a hand to the overprotective man,

“Would you let him down?”

Brown eyes turn to you in question, narrowed, but as you set a hand on his shoulders he softens, releasing Johnny who drops to his feet with ease. He moves to greet you but is stopped by the man, acting as a wall between the two of them and you.

“Come on Simon, you know us.”

His head perks up at the name but he does not move as Kyle closes the door, before he does however the black cloud of Nyx shoots in with a frantic meow. Simon growls when she passes him and jumps into your arms. 

You catch her, stroking along her back for comfort.

“Simon?” You ask it as a question and the man’s head shoots to you in attention, his guard not down from the two visitors but his sole focus on you with such an intensity you almost look down. He sighs disregarding the men and then coming to you.

“It's been so long since he was human…” Kyle speaks then and there is a flash of recognition.

You hold a finger out,

“It’s you from the dream!”

He looks a little sheepish and Soap looks excited, moving forward (despite Simons rumbling) with an excited grin.

“Recognize this handsome face?”

He puffs his cheeks out in protest when you shake your head, but he spins on his heels, then you remember!

“The seal?”

“Right, lass!”

His eyes shine with excitement Nyx meows, butting her head under your chin. 

“What exactly is going on?”

A new voice makes you and Simon whips around teeth bared in warning.

“Something very old Dear.”

“John?” You set Nyx down and she coils around your legs, purring loudly.

“The same, love.”

Johnny crosses his arms as the well-dressed man sits up from your couch, his presence sudden and new. 

“Ye were always the showoff.”

As John steps closer to you Simon bristles, eyes darting to all of them, an arm reaches for you and pulls you to his chest. 

“He’s like an animal, Cap.”

Kyle looks very tired then, and so does Johnny, his shoulders slumping at the sight of Simon. 

“Can’t you do anything, Captain?”

Johnny looks at him in question and you reply.

“Captain?”

John brings his hand to his chin in thought before turning to you with swelling eyes.

“Captain Johnathan Price, I used to serve, ages ago, and these two are Sergeants John MacTavish and Kyle Garrick. We served to exist better amongst your kind, at least until those haunted days finished.”

He chuckles,

“We are technically retired.”

Johnny snorts at that, dropping into the seat John was sitting in. The older man nods in through before his eyes meet yours, you are enchanted by them, the waves swirling throughout, but a hand covers your eyes then and Simon nudges your head to look at him gently.

“So there is some memory in that mind of yours.” 

John approaches and Simon ruffles when John reaches a hand out to you, and you hear a spark and gasp when there is a heat near your face, you see a spark of fire reflect in Simon’s eyes, his widening before he growls again.

“It’s worse than I had thought,” John speaks before there is a sound like chimes and the sounds of children laughing. On an impulse, you move Simon’s hand and you are stunned. You find yourself standing in an old village, children playing around.

A sharp sense of fear hits you as Simon’s head darts around, there is the crashing of the sea and he thrashes, releasing you as you stumble with a yelp. 

“What is this?!?” you cry in fear when there is a loud crash of water, new waves licking at your bare feet.

“History.” Is all that John says and you see him then, his form is normal but there is an aura of light radiating around him, his eyes are focused on Simon, hand out like a beacon. Kyle and Johnny are there then.

“This isn’t right Captain!”

It’s Johnny who rushes to you to comfort you in your distress. As Simon stumbles there is a shadow leaking from his eyes, violent flashes of gold sparking and he trembles, hands sprawling in pain, muscles clenching.

You move to help him but a fire erupts in front of you and you yelp in fear, and at the sudden noise something snaps. What was once a man becomes a beast as the shadow surrounding him in the bright daylight is flashed out with a bright light, Leviathan is there then, a mighty paw slamming down on the flame with a deafening roar.

There is a crash of water and his other hand pummels into Price, sending the man flying. The dragon’s head then snaps forward, golden eyes on Johnny who freezes, the open maw before him lighting with a sapphire light before blue flames erupt forth towards him. 

“Shit!”

Johnny grabs you around the middle and this angers the beast because his tail slams into the Scot, parting you both and making you stumble, hands reaching for the dragon. His flames extinguish with a quiet hiss and his head dips to yours and you find yourself surging forward into his waiting embrace. A paw pulls you to his chest as his head lowers with a growl when Price re-materializes beside Kyle, whose hands are up in surrender.

“Look at the jewel!” Amongst Johnny’s groans of pain, Kyle points at Leviathan’s forehead where, with a crack, a blackened crust over the sapphire shatters. Price steps forward, and the dragon sweeps you up carefully against his chest, a sapphire hew brewing in open jaws.

“That’s enough.”

Price speaks and with a snap the world swirls, plunging you into light before fading back to your living room. You blink, going to move but you are being carried in firm arms as Simon stands breathing heavily, the sound of a storm suddenly raging outside that rattles the building.

You shake and tuck your head to his heaving chest and the pendant gleams, its warm light engulfing the two of you in a flash as Simon eases and the storm quiets. Your eyes droop but you fight them as Simon lifts you to his chest, stepping back into control of himself, He then speaks with an ancient rumble,

“Easy Treasure.”

His voice is sea stone and it washes over you with a wave and you curl into his chest.

“Simon?” It’s John who speaks next, asking his name in question.

Simon's eyes turn up to him, golden threads swirling in them but he turns away, walking you to your room, Nyx follows with a hesitant meow. Once there he sets you gently in bed, allowing you to curl into the sheets under his watch, Nyx purring against him before jumping into bed to join you, curling into your chest as you start to drift off, exhaustion from the previous surge of magic that had befallen you.

“Leviathan?” 

You mumble it and Simon’s heart stirs, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead as a soft rain stirs you to sleep.

Simon then breathes in the scent of you, and the smell of the ocean calms him before he turns and exits. He moves down the hall and picks up the sound of Kyle helping Johnny up while John paces. When he reenters the living room John turns to him.

There is fury in Simon’s eyes when he regards the Captain.

“You had no right to do that.” It’s spoken with a gravelly tone and a flash of lightning threatens the power. 

“It brought you back to yourself didn’t it Simon?”

John crosses his arms in thought, 

“She was strong enough, impressive.”

Simon growls, muscles tensing, but he turns to Johnny who is leaning back on the couch catching his breath. Simon approaches and Johnny looks apprehensive, but a hand cradles his injured side and then there is the sound of falling rain and the pain washes away letting him sink into the couch with a relieved sigh.

Simon pulls his hand back before nodding a greeting to the Scot and Kyle gives a dazzling smile. 

“Good to have you back Si!” 

Simon just grunts when Kyle claps him on the shoulder, the mers personality shining brightly in the gloomy room. 

“You’re a right bastard John.” Simon finally speaks, eyes flashing gold in recognition of the demigod. Johnny recovers himself and rolls up to sit with fluffed hair and a grin. 

“But we found you didn’t we?”

Simon tilts his head in consideration before turning to return to your sleeping side.

“Ray of sunshine as usual.” Johnny sighs. 

“He’s been imprisoned for centuries, cut the man a break. After that stunt Captain pulled, we were lucky not to be dead.” Kyle, ever level-headed, responds.

“Simon we need to talk.”

John’s voice is commanding but Simon walks on ignoring him. There is then a spark of light that reaches out towards the man and SImon turns on a dime, throwing a fist that shatters the magic easily. He is focused then eyes burning into John, his true nature flowing through him as a pair of obsidian horns curl out of his temples. 

“I bow to no one.” He hisses,

John chuckles, 

“I expect as much, but her finding the amulet has set into motion even things you cannot control.”

Simon approaches then, his form seeming to tower over John. 

“You will not harm her Captain or I will watch your blood stain my seas.”

John just looks up at him, eyebrow-raising, but not in challenge.

“I seek only to help our little Gem. You forget we are all tied to her now.” 

Price's reply only angers Simon, but Kyle and Johnny are quick to part the two, Kyle murmuring to John quietly while Johnny unsuccessfully tries to move Simon.

“We ought to get you dressed, Si.”

He looks down at the Selkie, eyes softening just a bit before his horns fade and he is once again a man. He looks down at himself and nods and Johnny’s smile shines and Simon allows him to be dragged to the door.

He freezes looking back at your door down the hall.

“I’ll look after her.”

Kyle’s eyes are soft and he nods to the taller man and Simon allows himself to be dragged out of your apartment. 

Once the two close the door Kyle turns to John.

“Are you trying to get us killed, Captain?”

“It was the only way to pull him to the surface, Kyle.”

Kyle rears back, pacing around the room,

“She could have been hurt, you scared her half to bloody death!”

John sighs, and Kyle feels for him at the moment. It was John who helped to keep Kyle and Johnny safe all of these centuries. It was his power that bound them together but even he could wane. John passes him and heads towards your room, his movements were silent as to not wake you. Kyle follows in protest but John quiets him when there is a gentle humming from your room and John opens the door. 

On your bed is an ethereal woman, more the shadow of one, your head resting on a pillow in her lap. Kyle’s mouth drops open in shock and John chuckles.

“You think I would leave one so precious without protection?”

The woman hushes them and speaks with a chime.

“She sleeps deeply.”

“Kate?”

“You will catch flies Kyle.”

He shuts his mouth, his cheeks warming in embarrassment, blinking at the goddess sheepishly. Her eyes are the colors of the forest, evergreen with flecks of amber, and she laughs quietly as Kyle pulls the pieces together.

“NYX?”

Yes, darling.”

Her voice is that of a mother, laughing at her child. 

“She is strong John, being able to break the silence like that?” 

“I am aware-”

“That gives you no right to scare her, to risk the rage of Leviathan is to damn yourself.”

It is at his friend's words John hangs his head in reverence, and he approaches you gently, brushing the hair out of your face gently and murmuring a soft apology, you turn deeper in your sleep. You murmur in your sleep and Kate shimmers before returning to the form of Nyx just as you curl around the cat for comfort. 

Yet her voice still chimes out, 

“Out now boys and let her rest.”

The two men are quick to follow and leave you be with the door shutting gently with a click. 

-

Meanwhile, Simon emerges from a shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. He enters Johnny's room and finds a set of garments set out for him, and he dresses quickly and efficiently, startling Johnny when he enters the kitchen behind him.

“Steaming Jesus! How do you move so quietly?”

Simon just ignores him, ignoring the hunger of this form to return to your side. Johnny however grabs his arm and sits him down before sliding a plate of seafood before him. He looks at Johnny blankly but the Scot is already digging in eagerly to his plate.

“If you want to protect her you gotta eat.”

“Nonsen-” his stomach growling has him pausing. He begrudgingly takes the fork with a glance at Johnny and copies him, pulling a bite of mackerel to his lips. Once the flavor hits his tongue the man slumps in contentment. 

“Right it's been a long time since you've eaten hasn’t it?”

Simon doesn’t reply, instead eagerly finishing the meal under the mask of stoicism. Johnny laughs when the man gets up seeking more food, yet he gets up and passes Simon his serving. Simon cocks his head in interest but finishes the other portion quickly as well. Once full he leans back in his chair, much less alert. A wave of exhaustion hits him then and he gets up despite Johnny calling him and exits the apartment.

He moves in more and more of a haze, opening your apartment and cutting off the conversation between Kyle and John as Simon lumbers past them and to your room. When he opens the door Nyx is expecting him with a greeting, meowing and brushing past his legs as a hello before making her way to her comrades.

Simon pulls off the too-tight shirt Johnny gave him and leaves the shorts on to come to your side. Gently he lifts the covers and gets into bed, careful not to disturb you as he curls around you before falling into a deep sleep.

[goodlucktai]

love that doesn’t have a place to rest

one piece word count: 2.5k pairing: sabo & luffy, ASL brothers this was my piece for the @flameemperorzine ! leftover sales are open now ❤️‍🔥 title borrowed from never love an anchor by the crane wives

x

When Sabo wakes up, he does it slowly. It’s a peaceful, drifting sort of journey back into the world.

He’s comfortable, which must mean that he’s safe, which must mean that he’s home. When he opens his eyes, he’ll see a familiar canopy of rich greenery hanging over him, the pale light of fresh dawn peeking through the leaves.

Sabo isn’t usually the first one awake, and when he is, it’s only by a slim margin.

Any second now, he thinks, not even fooling himself with the put-upon annoyance, there will be a tiny rubber body flinging itself on top of him like a fun-sized catapult. Luffy’s voice will be loud enough to rouse the whole mountain when he cries, “Good morning!” He always says it like every single day they get to wake up in their ramshackle little treehouse together is a wonderful surprise, even though they’ll always get to wake up here together, forever and ever until they grow up. It's not the type of thing a little kid should be grateful for, but Luffy has all sorts of silly ideas. 

With a groan, Ace will roll over and tug his blanket up over his head. “Before breakfast, he’s your brother,” he’ll grumble.

Sabo will make sure to complain about the early hour, and call Luffy names and tug on his cheek so that beaming smile stretches even wider—but he’ll still get up and follow Luffy down the ladder into the jungle and stumble into half a dozen little adventures well before the sun has a chance to really shine. 

And sooner than later, Ace will join them, because he can’t fool himself, either. The sky always looks the best and bluest when they’re looking up at it together. Sabo knows he’d give up every extra hour of sleep and everything else in his whole life for that view, side by side by side.

He opens his eyes. He sees the ceiling of the infirmary instead. And then he remembers.

The person Sabo was ten years ago and the person he is today meet in the middle with an earth-shattering crash. He lurches upright so suddenly that Koala, dozing on the chair beside the bed in a precarious lean, tumbles to the floor with a screech.   

Sabo crashes into the communications room at a dead sprint, taking the door halfway off its hinges, and demands an update. He looks manic enough that three people start talking at once, about three different missions, and a fourth slips cautiously out of his line of sight in the direction of the kitchens.

Once deep breaths are had and calming tea has been acquired and Sabo is slightly more specific about his request, he’s read in on Fire Fist’s botched execution and all other relevant developments he missed during his episode. He thanks everyone for their assistance, knocks back the cup of herbal tea he let go cold, to the entire room’s collective disgust, and then stalks off to steal a carriage.

He could probably just requisition one, if he spoke to Dragon—but he would probably also fling himself at the man claws first like a territorial jungle cat, and demand to know what the fuck he was doing that was more important than helping his own son, if he spoke to Dragon. So he’s going to just steal it and spare them both the trouble.

Sabo doesn’t think about Ace. He can’t think about Ace without crumpling to the floor under the weight of impossible grief and letting it crush him into tiny, insubstantial pieces, and right now there’s something he still has to do. He very, very carefully doesn’t think about Ace.

Luffy disappeared before the end of the Summit War, long-gone when the dust finally settled, but it isn’t hard to find him. The oceans are unknowable and wild, but so is Sabo, and so is the place that raised him, the looming rainforest and its giant beasts and birds and deadly-beautiful flora. If he had to, he would bend the world into the shape he wanted, he would force it to give up its secrets at knifepoint—but he doesn’t have to. There is an army of intelligence at his disposal, contacts in all corners of every country.

And there is Ivankov, whose feelings are obvious even over the snailphone. They sound bone-tired and worried in a way that pricks restlessly at Sabo’s heart like a million needles. Iva explains that they hitched a ride away from Marineford with the Pirate Empress, of all people, who seems to treat anyone allied with Luffy as an ally of her own. Boa Hancock’s ship was hailed by the Heart Pirates, the rookie crew that had rescued and absconded with Sabo’s injured brother, and she gave them enthusiastic permission to shelter at Amazon Lily indefinitely.

“That,” Iva told him, their voice world-wearier than Sabo had ever heard it, “is where Strawhat-boy will be. Whatever need you have of him, please go gently.”

Sabo doesn’t have a gentle bone left in his body and arrives on Amazon Lily like a tropical storm. He’s met with open hostility at first, for all of ten seconds. That’s how long it takes Trafalgar Law to lift his head and say, “So you’re Strawhat’s brother? Emporio warned me you were coming. Took your time showing up.” At which point Sabo becomes an honored guest and the eldest Boa all but trips over herself trying to make a good impression.

He’ll definitely have an opinion about all of these things some other time. It all goes up on the shelf where he’s keeping Ace, safe in the back of his brain. He has to focus on what he can still do—the person he can still reach. It’s too late for him to save anybody but Luffy is his responsibility. His only family. His little brother.  

“Where is he?” Sabo says, doing a passable job of sounding like a human being.

Trafalgar tilts his head eastward, where the coast begins to climb upwards into a craggy cliffside. Jinbe, beside him, has his arms folded over an impressive swathe of bandages that wrap around his chest and midsection and looks Sabo up and down with a critical gaze. He clearly isn’t eager to interject where it isn’t his place, but he’s equally as unwilling to let someone who might be a threat go near the young captain in question while he’s hurting. It’s surprisingly proprietary for a person who has only had Luffy’s acquaintance for a short time.

But then Luffy has always had that effect on people, hasn’t he? He worms his way in. He makes you care.

“The surgery was a success,” Trafalgar says without overture, like the word ‘surgery’ in correlation to Sabo’s brother doesn’t send ice down his spine. “But it wouldn’t have been for anyone without the Op-op Fruit. And there’s still a good chance that all my hard work will be rendered a waste of time if that kid goes on another rampage.”

“He was disoriented when he woke up,” Jinbe adds carefully. “He went looking for his brother. And it—pained him. To realize that Ace was gone. He was hurting himself. I told him to look past what he lost, at the things he still had.” His deep, strong voice softens as he goes on, “If his grief wasn’t so self-destructive, I would have let him have it. He deserves to have it.”

Sabo is halfway up a hill before he’s aware of moving in the first place, using his hands to climb when it gets steep, not feeling it when sharp branches cut against his face as he shoves his way through them. Observation Haki comes naturally to him but he thinks he’d be able to find Luffy even without it. His soul or heart or something equally as important inside him would tug him in the right direction.

He was always the best at finding his brothers.

Sabo knows right where to go. He doesn’t know how he knows, but his feet guide him without faltering, picking his way over the river stepping-stone by -stone. And as he gets closer, over the cheerful babbling of the water and the thrushes in the trees, Sabo can hear the faint sound that’s become so familiar to him over the last couple of months—the sound of a little kid crying.

“This is why Ace calls you a baby, you know,” Sabo says to the hollow log Luffy is hiding in.

Luffy stubbornly won’t budge, so Sabo crawls in after him. Luffy’s face is all sticky and dirty, and Makino would have a lot to say about it if she could see him, but she’s not here. A little dirt never killed anybody. The tears bother Sabo, though.

They bother Ace, too. He probably remembers as well as Sabo does how it feels to be left alone while you cried. They both learned a long time ago that no one was going to come make it better.

Luffy hasn’t learned that yet. He still cries over every little thing that hurts or scares him, and Ace gets loud and mean because he hates it when his siblings are hurt or scared. He hates it even more that this crummy world failed Luffy as wholly as it failed Ace and Sabo. 

But it’s not the same, not really. Luffy can tear up over every heartache and frustration and nighttime fear, and his big brothers will come running. It’s annoying sometimes, and upsetting other times, and they can’t always make it better, but Sabo and Ace would never leave Luffy to cry all by himself.

Luffy isn’t crying when Sabo sits beside him. His dark eyes are wide and faraway, gazing out over the water the way he used to when they were children, dreaming about their future.

His brown skin has a sickly, ashen pallor to it. There are bruises beneath his eyes and an unhealthy thinness to his frame. He is covered, head to toe, in bandages. Even his hands are wrapped up, finger by finger. It’s proof of how far he would go, how much damage he’s willing to do to himself for just the opportunity to reach out and save someone he loves.

Sabo doesn’t know what to say. This is one of the most important people in his life, and he failed this person so spectacularly. He opens his mouth, but he can feel the words forming right before he speaks them—Do you hate me? He closes his mouth.

Coward, he berates himself venomously. If Luffy hates you, it’s as much as you deserve.

But his lips stay glued shut. He can’t open himself to that inevitable blow, not yet. The question goes up on that mental shelf next to Ace. Instead, Sabo sits beside his only living brother for as long as he’s allowed.

“I haven’t seen you since I was little, Sabo,” Luffy says suddenly. “I saw you all the time back then.”

Sabo’s heart is racing. He’s confused and unsettled and hurting so keenly he could lay down and die from it. But he can’t let Luffy go unanswered, so he says, “Of course you did. We lived together.”

A faint smile touches the corners of Luffy’s mouth, like some distant part of him wants to laugh.

“I mean after you died. We saw you a lot. We talked to you and you would talk back. Sometimes I wondered if maybe you were really still there and everyone just got it wrong. I was dumb.”

“No,” Sabo says quietly.

“I thought I’d see Ace now,” Luffy goes on, in a meandering, conversational way. “The way we used to see Sabo. But Sabo is here again instead. I’m not mad, ‘Bo. I missed you. I wish you hadn’t left.”

Sabo doesn’t know how to hold this without it breaking him. He needs more hands. He needs his twin, his anchor, his other half, to help with the heavy-lifting. He isn’t enough on his own. He will never, ever, ever be enough on his own to make up for Ace dying in Luffy’s arms, bleeding all over Luffy’s hands, carving a hole into Luffy’s heart right next to the one Sabo left there ten years ago.

There is nothing that he can say that will make this better. The only thing he can do is be here, and put his arm around Luffy the way he used to when they were children, and whisper, “I missed you, too, Lu. I wanted to stay.”

Luffy doesn’t cry how Sabo remembers. He doesn’t throw his head back and wail and shove balled fists into his eyes. But the way he curls against Sabo’s side is familiar—the way he makes himself smaller, and tucks his face against Sabo’s shoulder like he’s seeking shelter, and winds rubber limbs around him until they’re too well-tangled to do anything but hold each other.

The sun sinks slowly through the sky, and Luffy’s body gets heavy and loose. He falls asleep between one thick, hitching breath and the next. 

“I don’t believe him,” Sabo’s twin says incredulously, staring down at the little boy sprawled like a sack of potatoes across the mossy rocks. “As soon as it gets dark, he’s out like a light.”

Sabo laughs, the way he’s only recently learned how to laugh. It bubbles up all the way from his stomach, from the squishy warm center of him. He isn’t allowed to be noisy at the mansion, but Ace’s face always scrunches in a wolfish grin at the sound.

“And he’s up with the sun, too,” Sabo says. “Better than an alarm clock.”

He sloshes across the shallow part of the river and kneels in the muddy bank, beginning the familiar chore of gathering up a seven-year-old’s sprawling rubber limbs so they can carry him home. Luffy always droops when he sleeps, like taffy left out in the sun, his bones going all bendy since there isn’t conscious thought to keep them firm. He’s as light as a kid half his size, and twice as much work.

“Brat’s lucky we don’t just leave him here,” Ace mutters, but he doesn’t mean it. He sits carefully still while Sabo situates Luffy on his back, and keeps one rough, scarred hand wrapped carefully around one of Luffy’s soft wrists the whole way back up the mountain.

Their little brother only comes close to stirring once, and all he does is press his face against Ace’s shoulder with a content sigh that’s so quiet it could almost be a secret. 

Luffy is lucky that he has someone to carry him home. But Sabo and Ace are lucky, too. They have someone to carry.

Sabo rests his cheek on the top of Luffy’s head, and listens to the marathon march of his heart. He counts every beat. He feels like a ghost.

“I wanted to stay,” Sabo says again. He hopes that someone’s listening.

[yuriskies]

A fun element to Otherside Picnic vol 8 (spoilers ahead after the break, if you're still planning to read it) is an easter egg about the location of Toriko's apartment. Actually, "easter egg" might be underselling it a bit; it has a huge amount of thematic relevance to Toriko's character. So here's the easter egg: if you follow Sorawo's description of her path to Toriko's apartment, you can actually find the building on Google Maps.

The train arrived in Nippori. Pushed by the rush of people, I got off, went down the stairs, and out the gate. I climbed the hill, out of breath, in the unrelenting rain. The wall of a graveyard continued along the left-hand side. Turning onto a side street at the top of the hill, I could see Toriko’s apartment in the middle of a residential area ...the building uses an autolock system... Getting off on the fourth floor, I headed into the hallway. The town I could see over the chest-high wall was misty in the rain.

The fun thing about this is that Sorawo's narration is just specific enough to follow along. In a way, it's an invitation to the reader to imitate Sorawo. Prior to the events of the series, she spent time tracking down the sites of ghost stories from the minor details that leaked into their narration. Tracking down where the weirdness happened placed it in context; stories from the edge of reality seem more reliable when the reality can be charted.

So, let's do it. Sorawo mentions a graveyard wall - this can only be Yanaka Graveyard, located on the west side of Nippori Station. Yanaka is located on the former grounds of the Tenno-ji Buddhist temple, and is one of Tokyo's largest cemetaries by area. It is the resting site of the final Tokugawa Shogun, as well as a who's who of Meiji-era academics, literati, and government officials.

The road along the north edge of Yanaka Graveyard goes up a steep hill, and where it reaches the top, a side road splits off on the left to go into a residential area. Going into street view shows that all of the buildings along this road are only two or three stories tall, except for a building at the very back. It's four stories tall. The building has an auto lock system at the front door, and chest high walls along the hallways to the apartments. Bingo.

The fun part of this is the name of the apartment complex: 山口マンション (Yamaguchi [Mountain Gate] Mansion).

The first part of the thematic relevance here is its relationship to Satsuki's monologue about being brought into the Otherside.

"What happens to the people who don't return?" "Who knows? They probably die, right?" "Life and death aren't the issue. Once you get to that point, that is." My brow furrowed. "What do you think mountains are made of?" Satsuki asked, smiling. "Trees and stuff?" I said without putting much thought into it. When I thought of mountains, the image that came to mind for me was the mountains of my home prefecture, Akita, covered in green. "If trees were sapient, they wouldn't think of themselves as a mountain. Only as a single tree. It's the same concept. People who go into the mountains, regardless of their mental state, are still people. But the wind that blows through the trees. The rocks. The birds. Every speck of rock covering the bedrock. The beasts, hiding in their dens. The ancient mollusks, sleeping in a geologic fold. The morning dew in a spider's web. The bacteria and microorganisms in the soil, breaking down the body. None of these individual constituting elements is the mountain on its own, yet the mountain is made up of them. So it is for those called by the mountain. Living or dead." She raised her hand, pointing all five fingers at herself. "That is how it is for me." Uncurling her fingers, she pointed at me. "That is how it is for you."

This "mountain gate" connection also ties back to Sorawo's previous visit to Toriko's apartment in File 4, where she opened the door to the apartment and encountered the ultrablue void of the Otherside. Thematically, this places Toriko's apartment at the interface between the surface world and the Otherside. The back of the building also abuts Yanaka Graveyard, and so thematically, also forms an interface between life and death.

Sorawo touches on this latter theme in the back half of File 26, when Toriko forces herself on Sorawo in her parents' bedroom. Sorawo becomes profoundly uncomfortable - equally, if not more disturbed by her surroundings than Toriko's behavior. After relocating to Toriko's bedroom, Sorawo realizes the following:

This home was a grave, and Toriko the crypt keeper—that's the image that I was getting. The sudden feeling of resistance I'd felt when we were in the bedroom might have come from that mental association. Even if it weren't the place where her parents had once slept, it was almost like flirting in front of a Buddhist altar. After entering Toriko's room, I finally got it. This room has color. It's the room of a living person.

Toriko's bedroom forms a small bubble of life in an otherwise dead house. The interface between life and death isn't simply close to Toriko's living space, it is actively defined by it. This ties in closely to Toriko's character, given that she's admitted her pushiness to do relationship things in the Otherside is driven by a fear of loss. Her mothers suddenly died, and Satsuki suddenly vanished. All she has left of them is her cherished memories, and she wants to form those memories with Sorawo, just in case.

Another element in play here is Sorawo's relationship to the Otherside. At multiple points in the series, the Otherside seems to suddenly draw closer when Sorawo gets stressed out with her thoughts about her relationship with Toriko. The most obvious example is in the hot springs when the mannequins appear immediately after Sorawo feels backed into a corner with Toriko's "cute boobs" comment, but those fears are also linked to Hasshaku-sama (both times the entity appears as Sorawo contemplates jealousy and the possibility that Toriko will be taken from her), Satsuki's surface world appearance (Kozakura implying Sorawo is manifesting Satsuki through her jealous fixation), the the love hotel girls' party (the lion dancers appear as Sorawo is trying to avoid a romantic bath with Toriko), and Satsuki's appearance in vol 7 (when Sorawo is considering where she would be without Toriko). In a sense, the terrifying aspects of the Otherside to Sorawo are closely related to the terrifying aspects of a defined relationship with Toriko.

One puzzle piece in play is a conversation from vol 7, as Sorawo, Kozakura, and Toriko are figuring out their approach to exorcize Satsuki. They discuss the concept of "atmosphere" and its ability to transmit emotions, particularly fear, and explore ways to change that atmosphere. Toriko mentions that she's mostly heard ghost stories where sex changes the atmosphere. Sorawo then elaborates to a doubtful Kozakura with the following:

No, it's true. There's stories where they were in a real bad situation, but then they started saying all sorts of lewd things and they survived. I don't tend to say that ghosts are this way or that, but sex is the source of life, so that makes it the polar opposite of ghosts, which belong to the world of the dead... At least, there's that sort of reasoning. It's an idea that's been around since ancient times.

Sorawo also goes on to mention that in some situations, the atmosphere can be overwritten, but in others, these attempts only reinforce it more strongly.

The thing about ghost stories is that for all its other indiscretions, it's an elegant genre in strange ways. There's not a lot of bawdy stories in it. Maybe that's because if you're trying to scare someone, and then sexual elements get involved, it hurts the atmosphere. Anyway, I only brought up the sex stuff as an example of how the atmosphere can get changed. It's too weak to be her weakness. There's some real nasty ghost stories with sexual elements, and there are people who've had scary experiences at love hotels.

All of these concepts start to interweave with one another when the two relocate to Toriko's bedroom. Sorawo immediately notices a change in Toriko's demeanor.

Her expression looked uneasy, without composure. She wanted me, but also feared rejection. Despite the way she'd been breathing heavily through her nose as she led me here by the hand, now Toriko was just standing there awkwardly. As if once she'd dragged me into her room she didn't know what to do anymore. Maybe as we entered what remained of the domain of the living inside this house of the dead, Toriko had come back to life.

This scene firmly links Toriko's fear of the Otherside (death) to Sorawo's fear of the Otherside (relationships). In her moms' bedroom, Toriko had been demanding, frustrated, and angry - the malicious emotional states traditionally occupied by spirits in ghost stories! However, she settles down when she enters her own bedroom. For Sorawo, passing through this interface changes Toriko from an unknowable force who inspires fear into a very human entity with whom she can sit down and discuss the uncomfortable topic of sex. In turn, this allows Toriko to an explore an aspect of their relationship that she views as fundamentally life-affirming. After this scene their Othersides are no longer totally different, or inspire mind-numbing terror, but are now operating on a common logic.

The concept of an atmosphere comes up again just after their first try at sex. Toriko has finally found a turn-on for Sorawo, and Sorawo describes the feeling in the same analytical voice she uses for ghost stories.

Until mere moments ago, our nakedness had been no more than that. Just another awkward state of undress, like when we got in the bath. Not anymore. My nudity, and Toriko's, took on entirely new meaning. One little switch inside of me got flipped, and it caused a startlingly dramatic change in my perception. It was mystifying how, as that change occurred, it swallowed up the entire atmosphere of the scene, including Toriko. Stuff like this can happen... I thought in a daze. The room was dominated by my lust which had suddenly materialized. As it overlapped with Toriko's desire, the atmosphere inside the room became something kind of extraordinary.

Prior to their second go at sex, Sorawo and Toriko take a moment to talk over their last remaining fears about sex - using their Otherside-altered body parts on one another. They come to the mutual realization that they have both been afraid of harming one another, but not of being harmed by the other. This last discussion is important, because it totally diffuses their fears around sexuality prior to indulging it. So as they travel into the deepest reaches of the Otherside, they have total trust and intimacy with one another - and an absolute lack of fear relating to what the Otherside represents to them.

The color of the calm world was blue. As we whorled together, intertwining, the ultrablue abyss spread out endlessly beneath us. We didn't fear it. Because this was our place. No one was watching us. No one knew we were here. We were the only ones watching, and the only ones who knew. So the only things Toriko and I have to fear are each other.

"Was it just me who wasn't that scared?" "Nah, it was the same for me. Everything around us was blue, but it wasn't scary." "I wonder why?" "I dunno, maybe because we were on the side that scared people?" Toriko got a mystified look on her face when I said that. "The side that scared people? You mean the Otherside's side?" "We weren't human anymore, were we, Toriko? When we were there." "...Yeah." Toriko suddenly moved closer to me and chomped down on my ear.

So to bring this full circle, this is why I love this particular easter egg, and Otherside Picnic in general. The setting is treated as an important aspect of the story, and it is carefully chosen for its emotional content and thematic relevance. Toriko's apartment isn't just some random place in an upscale neighborhood of Tokyo. It's a fundamental part of who Toriko is as a person. It's a location that lends a huge amount of thematic subtext to Otherside Picnic as a relationship story, and to the reader's interpretation of the Otherside.

Is it a metaphor for death? For queerness? For our ability to truly bridge the gap in understanding between self and non-self? The reader is invited to imitate Sorawo, and in doing so, finds a treasure trove of understanding. The little rush of discovery shows us what keeps Sorawo interested in exploring a totally alien world and trying to understand its workings.

Miyazawa's writing actively rewards readers for engaging with every little bit of the story, and it really tickles the analytical part of my brain.

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick. 

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble. 

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs. 

Etho was not. 

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above. 

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand. 

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought. 

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel. 

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly. 

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. 

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him. 

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous. 

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em. 

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine. 

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too. 

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around. 

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet. 

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried. 

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice. 

“Hello!?” 

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole. 

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor. 

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up. 

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people. 

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully. 

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied. 

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped. 

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed,  “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced. 

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water. 

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him. 

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting  his hand to wave at him. 

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile. 

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish  for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that. 

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed. 

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone. 

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it. 

And then he ate it completely. 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand. 

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening 

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh. 

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped. 

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!” 

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees. 

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side. 

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down. 

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed. 

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him. 

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed. 

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction. 

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face,  “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled. 

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh. 

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through.. 

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.” 

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky. 

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him. 

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water,  landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded. 

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly. 

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured. 

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered. 

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle. 

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two. 

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV  > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them. 

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway. 

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground. 

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned. 

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him. 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things.  He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for. 

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help. 

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar. 

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked. 

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped. 

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned. 

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back. 

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned. 

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off. 

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.  

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. 

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to  join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them. 

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief. 

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

[azurlily]

Dont ask just read, this is what a bored and horny mind can come up with. Yes, this woman needs a name so for now we will call her LSM. What does that stand for? Lets find out together. Completely UNEDITED.

Lesbian Sugar Mommy

You had a daily schedule, a routine. You followed this routine everyday for years. For years. So you being poor as hell at only 24, being barely able to afford food and rent. It was an all time low for you, and an embarrassing one at that. Recently your friend recommends you try a sugar dating app. At first you thought it was stupid, but mulled it over and remembered how broke you were. You made a profile and it took a couple days before you matched with a woman. At first you were incredibly awkward when texting and felt embarrassed. She seemed like the kindest woman you've ever met. She understood you and was better than any man or woman you had previously dated.

You were honestly pretty enamored with her, she has dark green eyes. Like a forest green, god they're beautiful, and you swear they change color depending on what she's wearing. Her hair is long and dark, contrasting her lightly tan skin. Her hair is slightly curly, definitely not straight. In the many pictures she's sent you, you notice all her nails are perfect manicured, but two on each finger have been cut down completely. You didn't bother asking, weren't a virgin or stupid, simply poor. You two began talking a bit more about finances after a couple weeks. She listened to you talk about your financial situation, how you could barely keep a roof over your head. By the end of your two and a half hour conversation, you found yourself being wired $10,000. It wasn't as if it was out of nowhere considering what the conversation was, but it was surprising. LSM had said she wanted to give you a bit of money to keep you going for the month. She had not said she was give 10,000 fucking dollars! You didn't know what to do with the money. Other than pay your bills and let the rest sit.

For a couple days you were worried she'd want it all back, but no, instead she asked if you wanted more.

"Well I didn't give you that much...so I'm just making sure it's enough. I can give you plenty more, sugar."

You had reassured her it was enough, much more than enough. In the following days you were finding her flirting with you more, being more straightforward. You blushed everytime she made a crude joke, but you almost wished it was a statement.

When LSM had asked if you wanted to have dinner at her place you agreed. You wondered how the night would go, if you would fuck up and she'd be mad. You hoped the night went as well as possible, and if not, that she'd at least tell you.

The night went a lot of different ways. At first she was playing the kind and gracious host, then she was flirting with you. Finally you had both drank a little too much of her expensive red wine, and she fucked you against her king size bed.

You dont remember the first little bit, but you certainly remember how your night ended. Well not all of it, that woman has the sex drive of a beast. She continued until she couldn't, until you couldn't walk and she couldn't see straight. If nothing else; your legs will remember this until you die.

"Good morning sugar, how are you feeling? I hope I wasn't too rough on you, although I can't say it was entirely my fault. You kept begging me to keep going, and who am I to deny you?"

You whined, talking hurt, and you couldn't move without some part of your body below your waist hurting. You sit up just a enough and look at yourself in your phone mirror. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing, theres a massive bite mark on your shoulder. Everywhere else there's hickeys, like they're changing color.

"Before you get mad- please look at my back!"

She turned and you saw large scratch marks running down her back. From her shoulders to her ass, you can also see quite the array of bites on her shoulder. One looks like it was actually bleeding. Your reaction must be funny because she's laughing like crazy. She gently cups your face and kisses your lips.

"So pretty. My girl is so pretty arent you? Mommy's little girl."

You just laid in her arms for a while, letting her talk about whatever she wanted. You were tired and her touch made you weak. You began thinking about your job, did you have to call in to work today? Were you working today? You asked LSM, but she just smiled and shook her head.

"You wont need your job anymore, at least not this one. I've already sent your monthly allowance over to you. You can quit that job anytime, it'll give you more time for me."

Monthly allowance? You pulled away to check your bank account. Sure enough she had transferred over $40,000.

You stared at the number for a moment a then looked back at her. You assumed she was some sort of big millionaire, but now that you're looking around. Really looking. You dont want to know what this woman does for a living.

"Pay no mind sugar, now come here. I'll have someone bring breakfast and we can stay in bed all day!"

[shepardstales]

I need ya'll to read the most fucked up backstory I've ever written

So, context: This is for An Oath Written in Shadows, my beauty and the beast retelling

Mercia is a shapeshifter, but nobody knows. The village she's moved to, doesn't seem to like her. But she's heard things about a fallen King, and his servants. And now she's interested in finding out the truth

The prologue sets out to cover the backstory of the curse and set up the backstory of the wip in like, 1.5k words.

I...I will say it's dark and there's death and all that, so read with caution Also, at best there's mention of a stillbirth, if that affects you

@bardic-tales @the-bar-sinister @lordkingsmith @watermeezer @badscientist

@keeping-writing-frosty @nightmaricwriter

Prologue

The Kingdom of Compania is a beautiful place. The hills were woven with golden sands, the paths were made of silver stone that shone in the daylight,. A castle sits in the middle of the kingdom; a tower so large it was like a lighthouse, illuminating the land with it’s own lights every night and it could be used as a landmark in the day - you knew where you were when you saw how close up you were to the castle on the hill. The gates were grand, but wound in black barbed wire to deter anyone from climbing over and infiltrating the place. The walls surrounding the palace made the place a fortress.

Villages were spread out far and wide and the bigger towns and cities were getting richer and richer by trade and crafts alone. The Kingdom was fairly big, it was a country the size of what used to be a island, though now the seas have lowered and more land is being exposed. Cliffs separating the Kingdom from any outsiders.

Back before the current King, there was a whole line of people with powers - shapeshifters, magic. That flourished all up and down the land and you could see things beyond your imagination. Dragons, Wyverns, Centaurs, Minotaurs, Griffins and Manticores amongst a whole bunch of creatures that never hurt anybody, but only lived to tell tales, to inspire stories, to exist in peace and tranquility.

Things didn’t last very long - people were pushed out, abandoned and one by one the lights started going out. People went into hiding, where only the strongest and most capable were able to get by by living a lie — hiding who they were, because they were rich enough to have people turn the other cheek.

And then the Kingdom became quiet, where it seemed like only humans thrived. And in that Kingdom, we weave a tale. A tale of a Prince, a King and a curse.

It wasn’t the Prince’s fault that the curse was cast. The King had offered his son’s hand in marriage to anyone that could impress him. The King, named Brennan was tired of not having heirs and everything to do with securing the line of succession.

In fact, the King himself was jealous of the life the Prince was leading -- he at this moment in time, was not confined by laws, paperwork and the like. He could move freely within the Kingdom and always came home, telling stories of creatures he’d seen and the stories he himself had written and others had written - rich in detail, rich in love and everything the King did not want to give him. The Ravensbane family line was not going to end with Milo, not if the King had anything to say about it.

“You disappoint me, boy.” Brennan would snarl as if it was a normal thing to say to a child.

It was the tamest thing that Brennan could say without getting scolded by his own advisors. His own advisors wouldn’t dare interrupt him, wouldn’t dare defend the lad. Brennan was known for his temper. Brennan was known for playing mind games with everyone and everything he could get his hands on.

“You’re disappointed by most things nowadays, Father. Or should I really call you that?”

The Prince was well aware he was not loved, at least not by his father. Only seen as a necessity to continue the line of succession. But It didn’t hurt him. Nothing could hurt him as much as what happened to those who DID love him. His Mother, Queen Orianna had promised she would look after him, but she died shortly after giving birth to a stillborn daughter. The daughter didn’t even get a name from the King, but Milo saw his sister and gave her the name Celeste. Milo buried both his mother and sister in the royal crypt, when Brennan wanted to burn their bodies and the memories so nothing was left behind to remind him of his failures.

Every single day since Celeste was brought into this world asleep, Milo would visit the crypt and tell his mother and his sister stories, some he had made up, ready to tell his own future children and partner. The man was a writer, a lover, not a fighter. The Prince, Milo did not let himself be consumed by rage, but only stood by and watched as the King succumbed to his own madness of the mind and set out to secure the lineage by any means necessary.

The Kingdom of Compania loved Milo. They feared Brennan, feared he had become a monster. They didn’t know where to step, what to do right in order to please the King and keep their lives. Milo enjoyed reaching out into the kingdom, delving into the creative arts, learning from his elders and teaching young children what he had known through his teaching. People sat and listened to him. They loved him for who he was, but none could ever connect with him in the manner Brennan wanted. Those young children turned into fine citizens, with so many amazing goals and so many different ways of life.

Milo would write each and every citizen letters, and kept his closest friends in his inner circles as constant pen pals. He wanted to stay in touch, he wanted and chose to care, unlike his father. He wasn’t fake at all.

Once a year, since Milo turned sixteen years old, Brennan would host a ball and beg maidens in the high houses to attend — with the promises of riches and everything a Princess could want in a kingdom. Brennan was sure that the Prince could secure a wife, blinded so much by the need for an heir he didn’t even consider the fact that Milo could have wanted a husband.

Milo was searching the land in his own time for someone who wanted to love Milo for who he was, not what the King was making him out to be. The King thought he knew everything, but did not know that his own son, through his mother’s bloodline, had the powers of shapeshifters running through his veins, and every night disappeared from the grounds of the castle as one of the dreaded Manticore beasts you read in children’s stories growing up.

For three years, the servants and Milo’s closest friends kept this secret from Brennan, knowing that if he was found out, Milo could possibly die.

The Kingdom of Compania was given that name, because the whole motto of the kingdom was “If I had to choose anywhere, it’d be here, with you in each other’s company. Let’s make this world better.”

But.;..

Brennan had plotted, after the last ball failed to secure Milo a wife, to reach out into a community of sorcerers and sorceresses, to see if someone or something had plagued his family.

“What do you mean, there’s no curse? There has to be!” He cried

No matter what the powerful magic users could say, would convince him that Milo was okay, that the Kingdom was okay. Over time, people refused to help and in the end, there was a young sorceress, by the name of Darcy who offered to help the King.

Milo was twenty when things changed.

Nobody had known that Brennan had seen Milo transform into a Manticore after he was going to hunt a stag and bring it back for dinner, and he was angry that his son could be a monster. Brennan offered Darcy a deal: Cast a curse on the Prince, to stop him from transforming back into a human again, on the grounds that the spell should break, if he should find love before twenty years had passed, then the spell would be broken by true love and they would have a family together, the Kingdom would be theirs.

What the King didn’t know, was that magic comes with a price. For a grave spell such as this one, the only thing sufficient enough to keep the spell going, was the King’s life.

King Brennan, in an oath written in the shadows, in the literal darkest arts, in the darkest forms of magic, turned his son permanently into a beast and died in the process. The Kingdom is being run by Milo behind the scenes and his council of advisors, but the citizens themselves were not sure who or what would look after them. Only a select few truly believed in Milo, when all else turned away from him.

Milo had no time to mourn. He was looking for answers. Milo was twenty when the curse was cast. It’s been ten years since that day. And not one woman, nor man has ever looked upon the castle and asked if the Prince truly was not a monster after all. The Kingdom of Compania wants it’s Prince back, with open arms. But if only they knew the truth. He’s not even a Prince now, he’s their King.

Would they still love him?

For who could ever learn to love a monster?