#i even did a commission or two for some pals :)

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

If you wrote a book about your egos? I would buy it. Every book in the series if I had to. I'm very emotional right now. Your so good at writing. I'm crying.

this is a very very kind compliment 😭 thank you so much! i honestly have so many ideas about my boys i want to put out there.....im thinking of sharing them more on tiktok as well as finishing up my "ego iceberg" to post on youtube to give more in-depth stuff about my babies :) i love them so so much and they are very special to meee

this ask is also very funny cause on my nsfw blog i just posted how i wanted to get back into writing. and by that i mean exclusively writing porn adskjfaskdfja

[lovelynim]

Intruder countermeasures

Honkai: Star Rail - Sampo & Svarog (feat. Clara)

A/N: First out of two commissions for no other than the @otomiyaa herself! Thank you so much for the trust and support, Ginny, it means a lot to me to write a commission for you!

Summary: Someone triggered the alarm system inside the Robot Settlement. Now, who could it be and how are they going to deal with them?

Word count: 1913 words

Just how hard could it possibly be?

Get into the Robot Settlement. Check.

Find the pieces and gears the client requested. Check.

Steal Borrow them for an indefinite amount of time. Check.

Get out. ….

Well, it seems like the good, old Sampo Koski found a nice challenge for himself this time, huh.  

Against what he expected from a bunch of old machines running around, the security in the Robot Settlement - especially around that big, scary manor where the little girl in red lived - was… hard to crack, to say the least. It took him a couple hours studying the best route to get in - for which he was definitely going to charge extra.

Now, if Sampo could figure out how to get in, then what’s the problem? Well, get out. Who could imagine that tinhead would have alarms against invaders all around the house? All the sorts of robots were patrolling the place, from the silliest, smallest ones to the big, threatening ones. 

Sampo, hiding behind a conveniently placed wall, peeked at the grounds in front of the manor and watched the robots walking left and right, left and right… Damn, Svarog was really prepared for anything, huh? No opening in sight, maybe it was time for Sampo to wander a little more. Maybe he would even bump into something valuable interesting enough.

Walking a little deeper into the site, Sampo carefully followed a nearby why to the zone behind the manor. Luck seemed to be on his side as no robot was spotted patrolling that part of the settlement so far. 

“My my… what do we have here..?” Sampo muttered quietly, peeking again as he reached another safe spot. Svarog, the so-called and feared tinhead, and the little girl in red, Clara. Maybe this was some sort of playground for the girl, Sampo thought, still not sure what kind of thing she did with all those gears and screws scattered around, but who understands kids these days anyway?

The most logical thing to assume was that Svarog drove her here while the machinery did the patrol on the other side of the manor. Such a good guardian, huh?

Sampo leaned against the nearby wall, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. If he could make it past those two, he would be out of the manor’s ground - but why did it have to be those two?

He sighed, feeling defeated by Svarog’s security system. A loud, long sigh that slowly dragged itself out of his throat. Also, a mistake.

As soon as the air left his mouth, Sampo could hear a faint metallic sound coming from where he last saw Svarog and Clara standing. However, when he turned his eyes back to said spot, they were nowhere to be seen.

Uh oh.

“Target located,” Svarog’s heavy, deep robotic voice announced seconds before his hand crashed into the wall. Sampo widened his eyes as the hit missed his face by barely a couple inches - he didn’t even want to think about what that would’ve felt like if it did land. Well, he didn’t have time either.

Thanks to Gepard’s endless chasings, Sampo managed to develop quite the agility when it came to avoiding blows - still, this was not the best scenario to put them into test. “W-woah, careful that, you could hurt someo-wOAH!”

Sampo gasped as Svarog almost hit him again. “Target ‘Threat Index’ undetermined. Stay back, Clara,” the robot commanded, his free hand in front of the girl.

“I-I’m not a threat!” Sampo wheezed, desperately waving his hands in front of his chest, hoping it would appease the angry robot dad. “I’m just your good ol’ pal, S-Sampo Koski!” He spoke in a hurry, his words barely understandable under the fear in his voice.

Svarog didn’t seem to be convinced, though. Before Sampo could even have another chance to speak, he swayed his hand at him again and, this time, managed to push him against the nearby wall. Svarog’s palm was large enough to pin Sampo’s body against the surface behind him, making the mercenary gasp - half in pain and half in shock at how fast Svarog could be despite how big he was.

“Commence annihilation.”

…What?

Sampo widened his eyes as he saw Svarog lift his other hand and spread his fingers. The cannon within his palm charged at an alarming rate and, no matter how much he kicked or squirmed, he could free himself.

Was this the end of the good ol’ Sampo Koski?!

As Sampo prepared himself for the worst and closed his eyes shut, all he could hear besides the machinery in Svarog’s body running was a panicked, yet firm command.

“Svarog, s-stop it!” Clara pleaded, tugging at Svarog’s leg. And so he did.

“Clara, stand back. I couldn’t confirm the intruder’s intentions. It can be dangerous,” Svarog explained calmly, turning his attention to the girl, but making sure to not ease his grip in the slightest.

As stubborn as her robot dad, Clara shook her head. Her cheeks were a little flushed, as if she was just about to cry. “N-no! I don’t want to see you hurting someone!”

Sampo nearly cried along with the girl as he heard those words. Yay, he was saved!

“The intruder could harm you, Clara. I can not let them go,” Svarog insisted, his head turning back to Sampo with that threatening, but faint red light coming from his ‘eye’. “They need to be ‘taught a lesson’, so they won’t come back.”

“C-can’t we teach him some other way?” Clara muttered, still clinging at Svarog’s leg with teary eyes. “Without hurting him?”

Svarog didn’t answer and, if his face could express emotions like humans, he would probably look half confused, half concerned. Sampo pawed at the large, metallic hand keeping him place, but Svarog didn’t lower his guard yet. “In what way should we deal with the intruder? What do you propose, Clara?”

“Hmm, m-maybe…” Clara hummed, looking at Sampo and then back at Svarog. Something that would leave the message, but wouldn’t hurt? “T-tickle him!” She beamed, remembering the times when the kids in Boulder Town would decide their the one to lead the Moles’ squad through a tickle fight. Surely adults could solve their problems like that, without needing violence, right?

Sampo, on the other hand, didn’t look at the suggestion as brightly as Clara did. Svarog wouldn’t consider something like that, right?

Wrong.

Carefully wrapping his fingers around his body, Svarog picked Sampo up and brought him down to the ground. With his massive strength, pinning both his arms above his head with a single hand wasn’t a big deal.

“E-eh? Wait a second, C-Clara, darling, can you tell your d-”

“Understood,” Svarog sadly coldly, his attention turning back to the man he had pinned underneath him. Sampo gulped.

Getting tickled certainly sounded better than getting blasted into pieces, but Sampo wasn’t sure if he should be thankful yet. Did Svarog even know how to tickle someone? Or would he have his bones crushed one by one by the giant robot dad?

The answers for those questions soon came into his mind. Clara watched attentively as Svarog moved his free hand and began to knead Sampo’s side and stomach. A crooked smile took place in Sampo’s face while he started to squirm and kick his legs. Yes, it tickled. And tickled a lot.

“B-be careful, mr. Svarog. Just tickle, don’t hurt him,” Clara instructed and Sampo nearly told her to shut up, but the last bits of sense he had told him to keep quiet.

“Understood,” was Svarog’s simple answer as his cold, metallic fingers continued to prod and wiggle against Sampo’s body, testing out his reactions and studying where it would work the best. “Target’s heartbeat frequency increased. Suspicion: embarrassment.”

“H-hehey! That’s- agh, c-cohohome on!” Sampo grunted, his cheeks quickly turning red as he fought the urge to laugh with all the bits of strength he had. His eyes widened as Svarog moved his hand down to his hips. “W-waitwaitwahaHAHA, NOHOHOHOH!!”

Clara nearly jumped from her spot as Sampo bursted in loud, uncontrolled laughter. Well, that was the sign that Svarog was, indeed, listening to her, right? “I-I think you got him, mr. Svarog!”

“Target’s reaction: positive,” Svarog announced, his analysis bringing new results into this system and allowing him to tell which method worked - or, better saying, tickled - the best.

There barely was any room for Sampo to complain about the coldness of Svarog’s hand or about how rough a touch or two were. As expected of a machine, his tickling was meticulous and every move felt like it was calculated. From the way he kneaded into his sides, to the repetitive pokes all around his stomach and, of course, to the squeezing and pinching over his exposed waist and hips.

It was not like Sampo could see it clearly, but Clara had a relaxed look on her face. Svarog managed to find a way to deal with the intruder without harming him. How amazing! Still, all Sampo could feel and see was an ominous figure that was surely going to tickle him into his very death. 

Choking between a laugh and the other, Sampo planted his heels into the ground. With teary eyes and flushed cheeks, he shook his head left and right, thrashing as much as Svarog’s pinning allowed him to. “PLEHEHEHEASE!!” He wheezed, the air barely making it into his lungs before he laughed again. “I’M SOHOHORRY!! I SWEHEHEAR!!”

Svarog didn’t even consider those words, as if they were unknown to his system. He looked to the side, gazing at Clara. “Unable to determine if the target is lying or not. Heart rate too unstable to consider. Your assistance is required, Clara,” Svarog pointed out, almost casually, while his hand continued to wreak havoc.

“M-me?” She chirped, clenching her little hands in front of her chest. “You want me… to help you t-”

“No,” Svarog promptly interrupted, not giving her a chance to even consider it, “it can be dangerous, don’t approach the target,” his eye then turned back to Sampo, that now terrifying, but dim red light pointing straight into his laughing face. “Do you believe the target tells the truth?”

“I D-DO! AHAhaha, plehehease!! I’m truhuhully sohoHOHORRY!!” Sampo cackled, having to almost squeeze his words out of his throat to make sure they would be heard through all the laughter.

“A-ahm, I… I think he did learn his lesson,” Clara smiled, a sense of getting the job done filling her heart. “You can stop now, mr. Svarog. Thank you,” she said, nodding shyly.

Again, listening to Clara and Clara only, Svarog stepped back. Sampo’s body went limp on the cold floor, his head spinning as he still had to come down from his high. “T-tha- ahh… t-thank you… I t-though… haaah, I was d-done fohohor…”

“Warning: further attempts of trespassing will be punished accordingly. Leave at this moment, intruder,” Svarog ordered, coldly, taking his place in front of Clara and holding his hand out in front of her.

“I-I will! I swear!” Sampo cried, prostrating himself in front of Svarog and Clara, hoping to convince them he was going to ‘behave’ this time. When the two didn’t oppose his plea, Sampo understood it was the time to flee as fast as he could.

The components his client wanted? Screw those, he would try to look for a phony to deliver instead.

Stealing from the Robot Settlement? Never again!

[mustangbby]

Yooo!! Ummm can I request Albedo x Reader with like them being pen pals or writing to each other?? And like one day meeting up??

Love youuuuu<33

-> pen pals

synopsis -> you and albedo have been pen pals for years, and you two finally meet up!

warnings -> none! pure fluff

w/c -> 739

you lived in inazuma, while your pen pal, albedo, lived in mondstadt. 

the main reason you two started to write with each other was when you needed a favor from an alchemist, and the one around your region wasn’t all that great. rumor had it that there was a pretty good know-it-all alchemist up in mondstadt, so you gave him a try.

he got back to you right away with the elixir you needed, and you wrote a thank you note right back to him. he’d continue to write you letter, and it got to the point where the two of you even sent each other pictures of your respective regions, some things about your personal life (on his end, klee, and on your end, your pets or something), and soon even your faces! 

it’s officially been three and a half years since you two started to write to each other, and a new note for you would come into the mail every couple weeks. they usually consisted of sayings like...

“dear y/n,

i hope life out in inazuma is doing you well over these last few weeks. hows the weather there? i’ve come to understand that your archon isn’t the fairest. the traveler told me all about the vision hunt decree, and i had mentioned you, and the traveler seemed to recognize your name. i worry sometimes and i hope your vision is no victim to her schemes. stay safe, and write back soon. 

sincerely, albedo.”

while that topic wasn’t the only thing he’d write about, you’d write back with a similar response. maybe talking about mondstadts issues that have reached ears overseas, or simply just how different life was in inazuma than over in mondstadt. but then the day came, and he was going to come to inazuma for the irodori festival! he was an artist as well, which is what you found out through a few photos of his works, and even a drawing of you he sent over for you to see. he wrote that he was invited and he wants to take the opportunity to not only meet you, but to see something knew. 

you subtly waited by the docks, pretending to look over cargo that was just carried off of other boats. you noticed that some were yoimiyas fireworks, and some were just random festival decorations that were ordered in by the yashiro commission- probably kamisato ayato ordering in things that he thought would look good to be hung up around the city. 

when you saw captain beidou up at the front of the boat that was pulling in, your heart started to beat incredibly fast. you knew albedo was on that boat, and this would be the first time in three and a half years you get to meet him.

the first person off the boat was klee, who recognized you instantly. without hesitation, she ran up to you and jumped in your arms, yelling “mx. y/n!” over and over again. a few other people had gotten off, and then you saw albedo. 

klee would not let you out of the hug, so you both just waited for albedo to walk over. when he saw your face, and saw how well you bonded with klee, he smiled before picking up his pace. when he got over to you, he kneeled down to where you and klee were hugging. when albedo told klee to take dodoco back and go explore (safely!) around inazuma, she was off, and you and albedo were left alone.

you got up at the same time he did and immediately drew him into a hug. you smiled into his shoulder, and he laughed a little before hugging you tighter. you spent a moment like that before you both pulled away.

“you look better than in photos,” you laughed, ruffling his pretty blonde hair.

“i could say the same to you,” he nodded, grinning lightly. “i will have to say though, i didn’t expect you to sound the way you do.”

“i didn’t expect your voice to be so mellow,” you agreed, before looking him up and down. “you seem like the type to not be worked up over anything.”

he chuckled, taking your arm in his and walking up the docks and into ritou. 

“would you mind giving me a tour? i’d have to assume you know this place much better than i do.” 

you laughed, before squeezing his arm a little tighter, and starting your hours-long tour of your home region.

[bitchfitch]

John signed up to this little excursion onto an alien planet to push numbers and run pencils. Not to spend an afternoon attempting to get blood out of a creature that, as far as anyone could tell, .~*Fucking Loathed*~. him.

J-15H did not cooperate with 99% of people, but for Everyone else he just slithered off back into the endless oceans instead of making a point of how much he did not like them. Somehow John still got stuck with the job of sticking the thing when Jish's primary trainer got sick.

He knew why. Nereida could climb all over Jish like he were a play stand. He just fucked off when everyone else approached, unless who approached was John. He would let John get close. He would let John get fully up next to him. John was one of two people in existence who had pet a giant alien mermaid. The other had had to be right there the entire time to keep Jish calm while John figured out what was wrong with his tracker (the fucker had chewed it out of his own hide, An action John Presumed was done against him personally.)

So that meant, with Nereida out of commission, he was the one who Theoretically would have the best luck. Because Admin Never listened to him about the fact Jish Hated him.

Jish laid across the entire breadth of the beach. Idly sunning his stupid massive back like he wasn't watching every single move John made. How the bastard watched anything with such tiny useless little eyes was Anyone's guess, but Jish Always without fail knew Exactly where John was on the beach. And John Knew this. It didn't matter what anyone else said, he Knew the stupid giant fish thing was watching him.

John had the blood draw kit tucked down the front of his shirt. A bag of frozen grapes in hand to use as a peace offering to the thing. It Loved grapes. But usually only when Nereida was hand feeding him them. Like he were some kind of decadent emperor in olden times who exclusively let twinks in wetsuits tend to his every need.

"Heyyy Buddy. Pal. My guy," John approached the beast slowly, the grape bearing hand held out before him. Jish didn't turn his head to face him. Didn't so much as blink.

Instead he thrashed. Whipped his massive thresher tail up the beach to knock John into the sand before the human with a driver's license and taxes had even realized what the Creature was doing.

John grunted as he got onto his hands and knees just in time for Jish to lazily roll onto his side so his heavily armored back was too John. That tail still flicking in the tide as though to let John know he would Delight in whipping his ass again.

"Fucker," he spat sand from his mouth. Jish bisected the entire beach. There was no way to get near a vein without climbing over him or walking right where his horns would be able to gore any ape stupid enough to pick that direction.

"Ok. You know what? You Know What. You don't want to do this, I don't want to do this, but you know who Really wants this to be done? Nereida. Dear Sweet Nereida who's so so sick he can't come out to play," John spoke the entire time he approached, hoping the collection of familiar, good words would make the beast cooperate for once.

"You know the entire time we were on leave back home he was fussing worrying about you right? Because there was no one here to do your fucking blood work to make sure you hadn't contracted fish sepsis." The blood work was actually to track levels of hormones, minerals, nutrients and etc over time to see if that could tell them anything about these assholes' diet or lifecycle. Since the only one they could ever get data on just napped on this beach and ate grapes sometimes.

Nereida had still actually been worried sick that Jish might get sick while they were away. Nereida worried about everything though.

"So please please for the one person you like, My friend, Nereida, just let me take the stupid sample." he holds out the bag again, "I even brought a bribe!"

Jish, shockingly, rolled back over to brace on his hands against the sand as he rose and rose to sit? stand? Loom. half propped up and staring down at the very fragile human in front of him. Those tiny eyes narrowed, the gill plates over his sinuses flared to show the disgusting red gill meat Nereida had once immediately evacuated John off the beach over. Something about it being less of a threat display and more of a "I'm getting enough air to make this mountain of a body be able to chase you down across dry land" display.

John stood his ground, and held the grapes a little higher. Jish and his relationship was the way it was because Nereida was his friend. Jish did not like that, but it made him tolerate John hatefully because the alternative was upsetting Nereida. John reasoned this all out to himself as the monster with a bicep almost as wide around as John's shoulders leaned closer and opened its mouth to bare its rancid yellow fangs.

Jish eventually huffed when John continued to count his seconds instead of flee, and laid back down to rest his head in one hand.

"Beautiful day right? Mind not making me waste it dealing with you?" Jish spoke. In words. Actual words. Not the weird whale song his species was already well known to use. "You know I'm not going to cooperate."

He took John's moment of stunned silence to gently take the bag of grapes from him. "Also cut it out with the fucking grapes. I do stupid tricks for them For Nereida because he's precious when he gets all excited about that sort of thing. I don't even like grapes." he still eats the bag whole, fishing the plastic out from between his teeth as he chews the fruits stems and all.

"What The Fuck-"

"No one's going to believe you." Jish shrugs and drops the mangled, slobbered on, plastic at John's feet before stalking back off into the ocean.

What the fuck.

"No I'm serious Nereida, Its a big deal you have to come see him right now." John half pushes the bundle of snot and blankets that was his friend down the hall and out towards the beach Jish had wandered back onto for his afternoon siesta once John had given up waiting for him.

"Jish! Nereida is here to visit you buddy!" he shouted down at the fucker from the walkway that overlooked the beach.

No one would believe him right? Well Mr.Long and Wet, Two could play at that game.

Nereida lead the slow, stumbling charge down the stairs with all the speed and grace that could be expected from a pneumonia ridden intern, vaguely gesturing behind himself to tell John to stay back a few paces in case the "animal" Nereida "trained" decided to get bitey again.

"Hey J," he approached Jish with way more hesitancy than normal. Jish didn't seem to mind, just maid the low whirring sound his kind used from greeting when they weren't talking inexplicably perfect English. (Seriously Why English? They were the first boat here and all their briefings were done in 8 languages equally and he Knew Nereida used Spanish with Jish as often as he did English and also Why does the giant fish man speak Any human tongue. Also why does he have an American accent.)

Jish carefully approached his sick trainer, crawling on his belly the whole way to avoid towering too far over him. Nereida bumped heads with him and then stepped back, "That's enough. I don't want to find out this cold is capable of jumping species." he said while doing the hand gesture that meant "Stop and wait."

"What did you want to show me John?" he looked over his shoulder.

"Jish can talk."

"Yeah... I told you I was working on teaching him a few words-"

"No, not baby babble, he can Talk. Full English sentences. I heard him. He literally said no one will believe me about it too. He's faking."

"He's faking," Nereida repeated with a worried crease in his brow. "Faking what?"

"Being an animal. He's literally only pretending to be learning to do tricks because he thinks you're cute."

"So... Did you ever report to med bay for that throat swab? Whatever's been going around the facility has been giving me really weird dreams-"

"No. It wasn't a dream. And I can prove it." John got a smug bit of satisfaction at seeing Jish's jaw tighten as he valiantly maintained his little act despite how it was all about to come crumbling down. He stalked out onto the stand and stood before them man pretending to be a beast. "Nereida, You had to go to that meeting with admin when we got here for this season, right?"

"John-"

"We're just talking, you and me, having a friendly chat about Something Jish here might not have considered before."

"Is playing along the fastest way to go back to bed?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Then yes I did, what about that extremely confidential meeting I only told you about because I needed an outsiders opinion on whether or not it constituted workplace harassment from a superior, do you want to talk about?"

"The part where you told them your reason for not wanting to do... Those experiments with the big guy."

"That despite his attempts to pair bond he is non sapient and thus any attempt to encourage or reciprocate mating behaviors with him is deeply unethical and potentially extremely illegal?"

"Because he can't talk or consistently communicate complex ideas right?"

"Yes."

"Consents sexy-"

"John I will get HR involved don't test me."

"I'm just saying. If I'm right and big guy Did talk and Has been faking this whole time... He'd have a Lot better luck-"

"John."

"Just say it. For me. Totally not for him. If he talked and actually asked you out or something you'd consider it right?"

"If he could talk we would basically be coworkers -"

"Not the point! You want to go back to bed right?"

"Fine. Sure. Why not," he scrubbed a hand over this face, "Yes. If a fucking Wizard flew in on a magic broom and turned him into a real boy who was capable of communicating consent and understanding the complicated interpersonal and political nature of such a relationship, I would not mind giving him, The fish, a chance. Can I leave now?"

"Of course! Thank you for your time, rest up and remember to guzzle water!"

"Fuck off, John," he flipped him off as he turned around to retreat to the safety of his room. "See you in a few days Jish."

John waited until the door back into the station had shut behind Nereida before leaning to quirk a brow at Jish. "So. You see my play here right? No one will believe me sure. But you'll have to live with not getting to try your luck with him until He does believe me and he Loves paper work and proper reporting so after He believes me everyone-."

"I could kill you a dozen ways right now and make every single one look like an accident."

"Fair point. I'm leaving now." John made a point to never be the sort to overstay his welcome when it might mean his blood exiting his body very quickly.

[possumbylight]

Lonely Rite

A/N: this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr despite posting on ao3 a bit recently so i wanted to start cross posting my stuff in case anybody here wants to read it too thanks for stoppin by ;)

Summary: She can’t sleep while her husband is away on a two-week business trip. so she turns to the next best thing, even if it is ten feet taller than her and made of stone.

Warnings: None! it’s fluff, and i don’t think there’s any language (if there is it’s super mild), and there’s one teeny itty bitty suggestive line at the end but it is so so mild i swear

Pairings: Zhongli/Reader, Hu Tao and Childe as pals along the way

The driving rain was her only warmth, though it slowly chilled her the longer the evening drew on. It was impractical to risk exposure to the element, but all practicality had dwindled over the past two weeks like a waning flame that finally evaporated into smoke when she had first stepped into the storm.

For two weeks, she had fought to find interest anywhere other than the nagging thoughts in her brain, seeking company from just about anyone who would humor her for even a moment. She was not usually one to stop to converse with street-side merchants for no reason but friendly chitchat-- that was more her husband’s domain, after all-- but everyone from the perfume seller to the old kite-maker to the shaky fishmonger by the docks had entertained her insatiable need to kill time. 

She was running out of topics of conversation. The weather could only get her so far, and she was loath to discuss the death of Rex Lapis, given that she was not good at keeping secrets.

When she failed to sleep for the nth time since her husband’s departure, she grew sick of her ordeal, sick of the inside of her house, and sick of the empty bed that was far too big for her alone. She knew precisely where she was headed when she opened her front door, and even the bite of the stinging rain could stop her from completing her mission. It was, undoubtedly, a drastic measure, but she had put up far too long with drastic times.

Two weeks prior.

“I will not be away long, dearest,” her husband promised, though his own eyes were laced with a distinct sorrow that even his unending wisdom could not mask. “I will write when I can. Will you write to me, as well?”

“If I don���t, will you come home sooner?”

He laughed. She would miss the sound.

“I will return as soon as my job is complete.”

“And you’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I fear your boss at the book house would not appreciate your sudden departure,” he argued, frustratingly practical to the extent that it made her pout. It wasn’t fair that he always made such good points. She deserved to be impractical every now and again, but her husband always made far too much sense. “And I could hardly put you in such danger. I fear that the days ahead will be harsh. You should not be subjected to such hostilities.”

“And you should?”

“I have survived far worse.”

“Yes, but you can’t exactly hurl mountainsides anymore, can you?” She muttered under her breath, folding her arms like a cross child, if only so that he would dote upon her.

“While it is true that I cannot control the earth as I could in my youth, you underestimate my resolve. I am no feeble old man, my love. I will return to you safely, as I always have, as I always will.”

Eventually, she had been convinced, though hardly happy about it. She may have been a lowly bookstore clerk with a penchant for adventure novels, but she was also a seasoned adventurer herself. Who better to judge such subject matter than one who has experienced it firsthand?

Y/n could have easily boarded the boat with her husband and traveled to Inazuma to fulfill whatever harebrained request had been made of him. Why some random Inazuman citizen had any authority to commission a funeral parlor consultant from Liyue, she did not know, but if she ever met the doushin who had sent for her husband to cross the sea under such treacherous conditions, she would not be kind.

But despite her dramatics, she woke up the next day, rubbed her eyes of sleep all by herself, made tea all by herself, and made the walk to work all by herself, feeling all the while that the sun was a little dimmer without her companion to help guide her step.

She felt desperate. She felt pathetic, like some poor little lost puppy, following her husband around and giving him big moony eyes every time he so much as cleared his throat to speak, but before she had met him, she had been lonely for some time. She was quiet by nature, and when she had packed her life up and moved to Liyue on a whim, it hadn’t been long before she realized that her only friends were coworkers and books.

Meeting him amongst the shelves was a dream, and falling in love with him was a fresh adventure every day.

As she stepped behind the desk at the Wanwen Bookhouse, she remembered exactly where he had stood when she had first met him.

She didn’t want to bother him—most who wandered onto the top level of Wanwen Bookhouse enjoyed the quiet. The Liyue sun was good to them, pleasantly wandering across the spines of books but not so harsh that it bore down on the patrons as they leisurely paced through the shelves. She tended to let her visitors experience the shop at their own pace until they signaled a need of her.

This man, however, looked so remarkably pensive that she could not help but ask. His one hand pressed lightly to his chin and the other tucked behind his back, the only part of him that proved him not to be an elegant statue was his hair, bristling at the ends as the wind flitted through the pages around him.

“Can I help you find something today?” she asked him, approaching as though opening her hand toward a timid animal. “You look awfully deep in thought.”

He took his time responding, but his kind smile was enough to assure her that she had not overstepped. When he did speak, his voice, sturdy as stone and smooth like honey, warmed her.

“I am glad you asked. If I might take a moment of your time, I have several questions regarding this series.”

“I’d be happy to answer, sir.”

He took a single book into his gloved hands, cradling it gently yet weighing it as though assessing its contents through feel alone, as if it would somehow whisper to him the precise questions he ought to ask of her. She took his brief distraction to watch him unabashedly. The people of Liyue were pretty, certainly, but this man had eyes made of precious stone a face of ageless beauty. The way he carried himself alone was enough to make her feel only two inches tall, but the ease with which he spoke to her and the care of his words calmed her.

“I am curious about the author. Zhang Jianning is a name I have yet to encounter. Do you know of his history?”

She nodded, a quiet smile rising on her face. Thankfully, the man had asked her about a beloved adventure series, one which she was immensely fond of. If there was any single employee at the Wanwen Bookhouse who could best answer his questions, it was her.

“Zhang Jianning is actually a pen name. Call of the Ocean Void was actually written by a woman, who used the name of her husband so that she could publish her works.”

“Fascinating,” he replied, and she sensed that he meant it. Sometimes, a customer would ask her for a recommendation, and she would get overexcited at the prospect and accidentally bore the patron into pitying her, nodding along though they had stopped caring long ago. It wasn’t often, after all, that she got to talk to people about a subject she loved so dearly, so when someone asked a question, she really let herself go.

“Her name was actually Zhang Ting, and her work was revolutionary at the time. The genre was flooded with a whole lot of men telling the same stories, and when Ting published the first book of her series, it was an instant success. She revealed her true name when she finished the last installment of the series, and then published everything afterwards under her own name. But instead of changing newly published editions of Call of the Ocean Void, she kept them under her husband’s name as thanks to him.”

“That is a wonderful tale,” the man complimented her, and she flushed at the praise. It wasn’t every day that she had tall, handsome men praising her for her ability to ramble about her favorite books. “Do you enjoy this series yourself?”

“Me?”

“Yes. You are obviously quite interested in its history. Do you enjoy the content, as well?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” she explained as her fingers brushed across the book spines, coming to rest on one particular novel. “The fourth book is my favorite. It’s—well, I won’t tell you, in case you decide you’d like to read it. Do you like adventure novels?”

“I often find myself consuming solely non-fictional accounts and entirely neglecting fiction, but I have recently become quite appreciative of the thrill of adventure.”

Y/n had helped him purchase the book, and within a few days, he had returned for the next book in the series. By the fourth book, he decided that he would buy all of them at once, and she, though pleased by the idea that she had sparked his interest in a beloved series, lamented that she would no longer be encountering the man who was turning out to be her favorite customer.

As she carefully jotted down the details of his newest purchase for her records, he cleared his throat, and for the first time, she witnessed a slight discomfort in his stance.

“Miss Y/n, I wonder if you have ever taken the time to listen to the local storytellers? I find that Tian is quite skilled in his art.”

“Mr. Tian is the storyteller at Third-Round Knockout, right? I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Then, perhaps you would be interested in accompanying me tomorrow evening.”

“To… to listen to the storyteller?”

“Yes, if you would like. If you have other matters to attend, I understand.”

“No, I would like that.”

Y/n sighed sweetly at the memory, cursing her past self for being so oblivious and so cowardly. If she had accepted that their first trip to the storyteller had been their first date, then perhaps they could have moved on with the whole relationship with considerably more efficiency than they did, dawdling and pining for at least a year.

Despite the memories that lived amongst all of the shelves, she completed her job as efficiently as she could without daydreaming.

Eleven Days Prior.

Several days later, and she was desperate enough to wander into the halls of the Northland Bank, seeking the company of the man who had attempted to drown the entire city with her inside it, and yet, somehow became a friend to both her and her husband. Tartaglia, if rumor was to be believed, had killed her husband, but she only rolled her eyes at such tall tales. The bloodthirsty Eleventh Harbinger would never kill without a proper fight, and despite his grandstanding, a row with Morax was not a fight Tartaglia could reasonably win.

“I’m here to see Childe,” she muttered to the baffled attendant behind the counter. Usually when she made visits to the Northland Bank, she was accompanied by her husband, whose stately presence made up for the fact that the two of them were seemingly nobodies come to call on a high and mighty harbinger. Now all by herself, she was just a shy little civilian who no doubt appeared visibly unnerved by the hollow and clean halls of the bank.

“Lord Tartaglia does not take meetings without an appointment,” came the steady reply. The guards eyed her warily. “What is your name?”

“Y/n. I don’t have an appointment, though.”

“Then I’m afraid you will have to return once you have made the appropriate preparations.”

“Oh. Sorry, then, I—”

“Y/n! There you are, comrade.” If the voice wasn’t unmistakable, the fiery head of hair that bobbed down the stairs was a clear tell from a mile away. As soon as his boots hit the expensive marble floor, all heads in the room bowed in reverence. Y/n felt a swell of pride in her chest. “Don’t tell me that Levin was giving you a hard time.”

“He was just making sure I wasn’t coming to assassinate you, I suppose.”

“And? Are you?”

“Don’t sound so excited about it, Childe. I’m a decent adventurer, but I would be far too easy of a fight for you.”

“Yes, I fear that you would be,” he uttered, though his voice was still riddled with the humor that made his threats so chilling—the ease with which he spoke of conquest and battle, followed by a cheery laugh, made talking with him unnerving at times. It was only because he was a dazzling conversationalist and a loyal friend that she and her husband were able to skillfully repress Tartaglia’s rocky past.

“So why do you still look like you want to try it?”

“Ah, because after I’ve successfully gotten you out of the way, then your lover would have no choice but to fight me. Where is Mr. Zhongli, by the way? I’m surprised he’s left you to roam the streets alone.”

Her face scrunched so pitifully that Childe nearly laughed, had it not been for the unutterable sadness that filled her eyes.

“He’s in Inazuma,” she whined, trekking with heavy step up the stairs behind him. “Some stupid doushin asked for his expertise on a case or something.”

“Inazuma. That’s awfully far. How long will he be gone?”

“Two weeks.”

“Aw, poor little thing. You look like someone’s knocked the wind right out of your sails. But, if you’re lonely, we could always go outside the city and find some treasure hoarders to knock around a bit.”

She pondered the idea longer than she was proud of.

“Ask again in a few days,” she finally sighed. “I might get bored enough to take you up on that.”

One Week Prior.

She had, several days later, taken up Tartaglia on his offer to go adventuring, and even though he had been more than happy to take care of any enemy that passed their way, y/n still ended up aching in the joints and riddled with little cuts and bruises all over every inch of skin that had been exposed during their journey.

So, she hobbled up the long and arduous path to Bubu Pharmacy, praying to all the archons that the tall stairs would miraculously shorten to make her journey less painful.

“How am I supposed to pray to Rex Lapis for the earth to bend to my will,” she muttered bitterly as she heaved another step upward, “when he’s out of town on a business trip?”

“Good afternoon, y/n! You’re looking a little worse for wear. Might I inquire as to why you’re so beaten up?”

Hu Tao skidded to a halt beside her, and somewhere, Qiqi let out a relieved sigh that the director had been momentarily sidetracked by another potential client.

“I went out adventuring yesterday, to pass the time.”

“To pass the time, or to pass away? You know, I have been designing an attractive pair of couple’s coffins for you and Mr. Zhongli, but if you go ahead and die now, you’ll get a significant discount.”

“I don’t plan on dying right now, but thank you,” y/n muttered, somewhat gratefully. She had been quite sure at the bottom of the stairs that she would survive to the top, but somewhere around the middle, her faith in herself wavered.

“Let me know if you change your mind. Have you heard from Mr. Zhongli since he’s been gone?”

“Mm, he sent me a couple letters. The weather’s been rough in Inazuma lately. Apparently, their stormy season is particularly trying.”

Y/n grimaced as she recalled her husband’s wording, and the way she knew he was masking some of the peril he had experienced. No doubt, he was trying his best to keep her from worrying so much that she hopped on the next boat out of town and tried to fight the Raiden Shogun in his honor.

My dearest y/n,

           I write to inform you that I have safely landed in Inazuma’s port at Ritou. The maple trees are rich with color, and the air is clean, when the storms have subsided. Ritou is lined with quaint little markets, and I have found the time to pick up a few souvenirs you will no doubt find interesting.

I did remember my wallet, this time.

The famed Yae Publishing House is my next prospect, and I intend to visit as soon as I have reasonable time. Perhaps if I find a suitable novel, I can read it aloud to you when I return. Though, I miss your voice so much I may request that you read it aloud to me, at least for a night. I could never fully give up the sight of you curled up at my side, dozing off to sleep at the sound of my voice.

I hope you are faring well in my absence. I know how reluctant you were to leave me by the docks, and it pained me just as much to watch as you faded into the distance. I could see the tears in your eyes, and my heart begged me to beseech the captain to turn the boat around just so that I could comfort you.

I digress—I do not wish to make you feel lonely.

Inazuma is a beautiful nation, despite its weather becoming volatile at times. There is no need to worry, however, as my lodging during my journey provides me a sturdy roof. I doubt, as well, that this nation’s archon would be so quick to strike me down with her lightning.

Rest assured that the Shogun’s thunder is a terror I have survived many a time.

I hope to bring you here someday, during a season in which the weather is far more temperate. The Sakura trees surrounding the Grand Narukami Shrine are loveliest at the peak of their blooms, and I believe you would enjoy the long and winding walk to the mountain’s peak. The pathway is paved with stone, and the red of the wooden terraces is rich against the pale blue of the sky.

Nothing compares, however, to the way you shine under the Liyue sun. I hope the sun shines on the day I return to you, darling, but even if it does not, I will be equally overjoyed to see you.

                                                                                   All my love,

                                                                                               Zhongli

Y/n hoped that Hu Tao couldn’t read the way her lip barely trembled at the thought of the poetic letter. She wished, after all the beautiful books she had read, of all the brilliant and descriptive words she knew, that she could write nearly as well as Zhongli. He always went on about how he loved the way her words sounded on her tongue or on the page, but she knew that she was hardly impressive compared to him.

She swooned when he so much as asked her to pass the sugar bowl.

Hu Tao, despite having offered y/n a comfortable means of transport to the afterlife, helped her up the stairs until Dr. Baizhu could properly prescribe a salve that would hopefully heal all of her wounds by the time her husband arrived, though she wasn’t opposed to the idea of her beloved doting on her as he cooed at how pitiful her wounds looked.

Perhaps she would skip a few applications and let Zhongli give her a massage, for good measure.

Four Days Prior.

She stared down the incense burner with an intense passion, as though lighting the embers with her very eyes. Of course, she could write letters to her husband, but it wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t nearly as comforting as talking to him in person, and even though he wasn’t nearly as involved in Liyue’s affairs as before, he was still at least semi-divine, so she was willing to stake her chances that he might hear her should she direct all her wishes to Rex Lapis’s little effigy that sat atop the stone burner instead of waiting for Zhongli to reply.

She spoke to him with little regard for the other supplicants milling about the terrace—if anyone should hear her, they would likely think her some enthusiast of the former Geo Archon, mourning his loss and pining for his return.

“I miss you,” she spoke as the fragrance began warming the air around her. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I miss you so much it hurts.”

Waiting on a sign was silly, but she still hoped beyond hope that the smoke might give her some kind of signal. When nothing happened, she addressed him again, this time listing all of the names she could remember, just in case. The earth might not respond to Zhongli, but it would certainly recognize Morax.

“Zhongli. Rex Lapis. Lord of Geo. Morax. If you can hear me, you should say something now so I don’t look like a buffoon talking to a dead god.”

It could have been her eyes playing tricks on her—her sleep schedule had been wretched in her husband’s absence—but the smoke gave a slight hitch to the left as it rose.

“Yes, I know you’re not actually dead, but no one else knows that. What’s the point of marrying a former god if he can’t hear you when you pray to him?”

She sighed, sitting down on the sun-soaked pavement with her legs crossed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. I just forgot how lonely I was before I met you. Now that we spend so much time with each other, it’s hard to be away from you for this long without going mad. I’m starting to doubt that you can hear me at this point, but if you can, please try to cut your trip short. I don’t know if I’ll last four more days.”

For the next hour, she sat in the sun and mumbled sweet supplications to Rex Lapis, hoping that at least one of them would reach his ears.

He had told her of his identity the night he asked her to marry him. It was a prerequisite, he said. Before he asked her the all-important question, he had to ensure that she was comfortable with all of him—his past, present and future selves.

“Y/n, if we are to proceed with this relationship, I must inform you of something which might alter the course of your feelings towards me. I… have not always been a funeral parlor consultant.”

She expected that perhaps he had been wild in his youth, running with treasure hoarders or engaging in the shady trade that always littered the lower docks. Never could she have imagined that his prior job had been Geo Archon, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He had, more times than she could count, corrected arrogant historians on minute details, filling in narrative holes with all sorts of odd accounts that somehow lined up entirely with historical fact.

Besides that, there was one occasion on which Tartaglia had referred to Zhongli as, “the guy who sealed up Osial in the first place,” which y/n had written off as some strange inside joke between the two.

The night he had revealed the truth to her, it had taken her several hours of questioning, which he had valiantly endured, to adjust to the new information, though her heart never thought twice about her decision to agree to his proposal. When he finally asked the question, she responded so immediately that it shocked him.

“Darling, I am overjoyed to hear this, but I must ask if you are sure. This is quite a lot to take in at once. If you require a few days’ thought, I would understand.”

“I know my answer now. I love you—every bit of you, even the parts that are complicated. I don’t mind what other names you’ve been called in the past, or other lives you’ve lived. You’re my Zhongli now, and you’ll be my Zhongli forever, if you’d like.”

“That is more than I could ever ask.”

When she agreed to marry him, she never pictured herself awaiting his return by sitting cross-legged before his draconic visage, muttering under her breath for only the cool stone to hear. It was worth it, however, to feel that he was so close even when he was so far away. No one else in the harbor could claim that their lover’s figure sat handsomely etched in stone in statues overlooking the city. She was the only one who could confirm whether Rex Lapis at all resembled his statues.

And she was quite smug about that, as well.

One hour prior.

He begged his heart not to expect the sight of her at the docks, her figure swaying amongst the silhouetted crowd as his ship crested the horizon and set for the docks. He had not discussed his arrival time with her, as he did not know it himself, and thus, it would be impractical for him to assume that she lingered at the docks for his return.

Even still, when he saw that the docks were empty at such late hours of the night, his heart stung with the pang of loneliness that would have to last just a bit longer.

He filled his mind instead with visions of her swaddled in blankets, chest rising with steady breath as she dreamed peacefully. When he finally arrived home, he could finally remove his business clothes, let loose his hair, and participate in that sweet domestic ritual of curling up in bed beside his wife, wishing to see her eyes but hating to wake her.

When he opened the bedroom door to find the house entirely empty, he fought to keep himself level. Surely, there was a reasonable answer for this. She had written him hardly a day prior, so he assumed her to be still in good health. Perhaps, even, she had overexerted herself in filling his absence, attending some late-night party from which she would eventually crawl home, exhausted and socially spent.

He doubted this. She had begun to appreciate light conversation more since the start of their relationship, but she was hardly the type to stay out past bedtime to engage in any social activities.

He searched the whole house one more time, thoroughly exhausting all his options until he was left with only the impractical—his wife could hardly fit in the vase by the fireplace, but he had to be sure of this. Compiling a list of her most frequent haunts, he took to the streets, not caring a single bit that the gray clouds had pooled all in one adumbral mass above the harbor, pouring rain that startled the seas with its force.

The Wanwen Bookhouse was, of course, closed at such a late hour, its wares sheltered in billowing tarps that pushed and pulled loudly in the strong winds. He thought she may be there, too, drenching herself to the bone as she fought to keep the pages of her favorite books safe, but she was not hiding amongst the shelves.

The Terrace was empty, save for the dimming light of the glaze lilies, closing their buds to the storm that threatened to pull their stalks from the earth. The incense that had once burned in the public altar was dampened entirely. Just as he was about to head for his next destination, however, the dome of a single lavender umbrella cut through the driving rain.

“Mr. Zhongli, I am surprised to find you here at this hour,” Keqing spoke in measured tone, as though it was perfectly normal for her to be there at that hour. “You’re soaking wet. Might I offer you an umbrella from my office for your journey home?”

“Forgive me, Lady Keqing, I do not mean to be abrupt, but I cannot seem to find my wife.”

“Quite alright, Mr. Zhongli. I assumed she had met you at the docks. I haven’t seen her since yesterday, but if I do, I will be sure to let her know that you’re looking for her.”

“Thank you, Lady Yuheng.”

He was gone long before he could acknowledge the quiet wave of farewell she gave. His next destination—and he prayed this to be wrong—was the pharmacy, where a single lamp flickered in the front office.

“Good evening. Or… is it now morning? Qiqi… does not own a watch.”

“Qiqi, have you seen my wife?” he questioned hurriedly, forgetting in his haste that the smallest of the pharmacy employees was also the slowest.

“Your… wife? You are Mr. Zhongli. Qiqi wrote down your name, because you always compliment Qiqi on the selection of violetgrass. Should Qiqi call for Dr. Baizhu?”

“No, thank you, Qiqi.”

A wasted venture, but one that took him to one of the last locations on his list, and the one place he would find someone who might truly have information. The Northland Bank was, after all, open at all hours of the day and night.

“Enjoying the rain, Zhongli? You don’t seem like the type to go out without an umbrella. I’d be happy to lend a few mora, if you need to procure a new one.”

“Thank you, Childe, but I fear an umbrella would be of no use to me at this point. Pardon me, but I do not have time to speak with you just now, I—”

“No time to speak?” Tartaglia asked him with a strange sort of glimmer in his eye that caught in the moonlight. “That’s odd. It’s rare that you don’t have a story to tell me, though, I suppose it makes sense. You wouldn’t go out in the rain and get soaked for no reason. Tell me, Zhongli, what’s your mission today? You look awfully determined.”

Zhongli sighed. Childe was, by some odd event, a friend to him, and though the two had spent hours exchanging stories, Zhongli was in no mood to humor his friend’s conversation, however amicable. As the hour drew on, his worry grew until it sat heavy right in the center of his chest.

“I have been looking for my wife, to no avail. I am aware that she is capable, but I am beginning to worry.”

“Y/n has certainly been lonely since you left on your little adventure. She’s stopped by the bank on more than one occasion, just to chat. The first time it happened, I thought something must be wrong. I’m not used to seeing one of you without the other at this point.”

“Childe, have you seen her today?”

“I haven’t. But, I might have an idea of where she may be.”

“I would be incredibly grateful for any information you are willing to spare.”

“She’s with you, of course,” Childe answered with a laugh, as though it should be obvious. When Zhongli’s brow furrowed, the younger man’s smile only grew.  “I did say that I hardly see one of you without the other, didn’t I? So where else would she be, than with you?”

Childe lifted one long arm to point upwards towards the horizon, dotted with brightening stars that grew as the sun dissipated behind the harbor’s wavering border. Rising tall, just above the rolling hills beyond the city’s gates, stood a singular, familiar figure, glowing faint blue against the darkening sky.

“I see,” Zhongli whispered. The waver in his tone faded into a fondness that untied the great knot of worry that had tangled his heart. It was silly, of course—he should have been upset that his most beloved had ventured out into the rain on such a wild and sentimental hare, but he could not bring himself to feel even the slightest bit of resentment towards her.

He had left her alone for two weeks. It was only reasonable that she should seek comfort in the next best thing. He hardly took time to thank Tartaglia before rushing towards the hillside, following the faint glow of the Statue of the Seven.

As he approached the statue, he saw her, shadowed by stone and sky, huddled into an uncomfortable mass on the statue’s lap. He fended off the passing sting of jealousy—it was his lap, but it wasn’t.

He hardly had trouble making his way up to the top, though as he did, he could not help but wonder how she had climbed there, and in the rain, of all things, but he thought to ask her later. There were far more pressing issues on his mind.

“Darling, wake up,” he cooed, brushing his fingers across the side of her face and warmed at the precious sight of her squirming and mumbling sleepily. “We need to get you out of this rain. You’ll fall ill in this cold.”

“Zhongli,” she whispered, as though in the midst of a sweet dream. “Get home, already. I can’t sleep when you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry, dearest. I am here now. Come—let me take you home.”

“Mmhmm. Okay. Carry me?”

“Of course. Hold on tight.”

“You’re really home?”

“Yes, my love, I am truly home.”

“Oh, no,” she whined, burying her head into his chest. “I’m sorry. You must be tired, and here I’m making you carry me. You can put me down, I can walk on my own.”

“Nonsense. How long have you been curled up against nothing but unyielding stone? It is my pleasure to carry you home, dear.”

She hummed happily as he crossed the threshold of their house, the amber glow of the kitchen lamp flushing their cheeks red with warmth as they sought shelter from the cold rain. Once she was on her own two feet, she quickly returned to the cradle of his arms, hiding herself away against him as though he would disappear if she did not hold him close enough.

“I must seem pathetic,” she whimpered, and he only laughed in response. The gracious rumble in his chest was enough to give her a smile of her own.

“Of course not. Should it be of interest to you, I found it difficult to sleep apart from you as well. The only way I found myself able to close my eyes at all was because I kept something of yours with me.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Oh, I—” he stammered, uncharacteristically flustered at the sudden turn of the conversation that placed all attention on him. “I borrowed a shirt of yours.”

“My green shirt? The one with the pocket on the front? So that’s where it’s been.”

“I apologize if you missed it.”

“I missed it a little, but not as much as I missed you.”

“That is good to hear,” he sighed. He pressed his lips quietly to her forehead, letting himself enjoy the weight of her in his arms before he went to move again, this time taking her by the hand and leading her towards the bedroom. “Come now, darling. We should rid ourselves of these clothes before we both fall ill.”

“Oh?”

“What an odd look in your eyes, dear. I am merely suggesting that you should not remain in wet clothes for very long, for your health.”

“You’re not suggesting anything else?”

He did not respond, but the twitch of his mouth gave him away, and she grasped his hand, eager to follow wherever he may lead.

[makriiii]

Caught IV (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.5k

Authors notes: I had some fun with this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, gun violence, alcohol.

Ao3 or wattpad!

♡

Caught IV

Arthur held you forcibly still in his embrace. Your own gun held directly to your temple, his gloved hand over your mouth to keep any pleas for help completely unable to escape.

You patted him with your elbow, soft at first then you got more rough as to tell him you werent going to pull anything, despite that he kept his hold on you firm.

You wanted to run into camp, no doubt, to feel a sense of security and familiarity, to be back with your own group and not in the hands of that man who stripped you of everything. Yet, you knew too well what would happen if attempted.

Your mind flashed with multiple possibilities. What were they playing at? There was no way they'd gun down this entire camp, and if they did talk their way into the middle, they surely wouldn't get to kill Colm before all of you racked up bullets in your flesh.

"What're we doing about the pisser, Morgan?" Bill asks lowly, "One by the tree."

Arthur frees you at last, nudging you off to the side and out of his way. "Let's get closer." He takes the lead, the other three not far behind him.

The pine needles and soft dirt under Arthurs boots masked the sound of footsteps as he crept closer to the man doing his business, whom took a blade to the throat shortly after.

Your face twisted into pitied cringe, what a degrading death that has to be. Now, despite refraining from using a gun, the drop of the man's body and his guttural last breath had the other two men shooting all too fast.

"Now we got a real fight. Come on!" Hollers Bill, everyone covering behind thick trunks. Arthur yelled something back that you couldn't quite discern from the blasts.

Your body lurched, your entire chest lie nearly lined with the ground, avoiding the small metal projectiles thatd no doubt hit you if you stayed unwitting and frozen.

Completely unarmed and not much one for hand to hand combat, especially against trigger happy O'Driscolls struck you with a different idea entirely.

Escape.

You were unbound by any ropes and no longer under the watchful eye of Dutch's gang.

The thought only held you for mere seconds, the shouting and firing kept you out of your thoughts. Arthur and his two pals made concerningly quick work of your O'Driscolls. This base not long before mimicking the old mining site.

Dutch's gang had tenacity, you could admire them for that. But because of them, you had nothing. No gang - pretty quick here - no money, not even your own guns. Hell, even your horse was holed up in their camp, hardly in your possession.

You groaned in defeat, you really didn't have anything to lose.

As sly as possible, you rushed for the men Arthur just took out, fetching their guns, the handles of which still warm from their grasp.

"Give up, O'Driscolls. We got you beat!" Arthur barked, reloading his rifle.

You felt slightly dazed by the sight of them, the fact that you could join them just as good, not made better by Arthurs words. You shook it off, swallowing your nerves and crouched for a tree.

You felt complete when you had a gun firm in your palm, the ability to protect yourself. It revived you some after all these demeaning days. The familiar feel of the gun's hammer under your thumb, clicking into place once you pulled it back.

You yourself officially joined the gun fight.

The recoil of the double barrel pistol was somethin fierce, sending a shockwave up into your mostly out of commission bicep. Being out of the game for a good week and a half had both your hands keeping the gun steady enough to be a good aim.

Two of your gang members flanked Bill, and aiming with a shaky breath, the barrel of your pistol stared down the men you recognized.

Hennessey and Seamus. Younger men who weren't as bad as the O’Driscoll name often characterized them as.

Seamus faced your direction, though his gun did not. 

His eyes met yours, a haze of confusion laced in his stare. Hennessey shouting something to you that you couldn't quite catch. 

They seemed happy you were back, but unsure of where your gun pointed - why was it not at that big messy lookin' man?

They both motioned for you to cover with them as they ducked every so often. 

Bill wrung his head in your direction, his anger and attention divided, unsure if he should direct it to you or not.

You felt about to throw up.

Seamus and Hennessey waited for you, they wanted your help. 

Bill shouted as he shot at them, clearly afflicted by your help, considering your elimination as well.

Your face burned and your heart ready to burst with the swift influx of adrenaline that nearly felt as though it replaced the blood that coursed through your veins.

Hennesey hollered to you once more as he set off another slug at Bill, who in turn glared back at you. 

"Don't make me get you too, y/n!" He screeches between shots. 

Your hands shook as you focused your aim. 

Seamus watched in befuddled shock and horror and Hennessey dropped back behind him before he wrung his head back to you, his eyes pleading desperately. 

The few moments he had, he reluctantly returned your fire, narrowly missing you and ricocheting off the trunk you hid behind.

You didnt even try to avoid it. You'd take what you deserved, but you also didnt let up. 

Bill now paid you no mind, his mind made up to spare you as you dealt with your friends. 

Seamus got your second bullet, your heart dropping as he did. 

Whispering your sorrows, and repressing the pit in your stomach, you continued forward.

You had only one bullet, so you cautiously moved up to the front lines for better aim, hoping that it wouldn't need to be utilized.

Men all around you shouted and yelled out amongst the sharp sound of bullets, yet with each of your shots, the shouts lessened.

"That's it." John huffed out, "They're turning tail!"

A final shot rang out, and much to your delight, you hadnt accumulated an even number of bullet wounds.

You got up warily, meandering over to the center of camp, where the rest of your acquaintances, at best, stood.

"Leave 'em. Colm's still here." Arthur waves off the escaping O'Driscolls. A fleeting thought of joining them ran through your mind.

This was the second time you'd witnessed all your own gang members brutalized. By the same people nonetheless, and yourself.

"Gonna check the cabin." Arthur added, trooping over to the cabin's closed door. Every step closer really sunk in the reality that this now was the end of the O'Driscolls, have there be a not so sober Colm inside.

You circle around with Arthur, straying slightly behind as to avoid any more small flying lead pieces.

Before he even reaches up for the rusty knob. The door flies out, smacking Arthur's whole front, effectively rendering him on the ground. A man you didn't recognize as Colm stepped out, looming over the fallen Arthur.

He stood at the entranceway, brandishing a shotgun, cackling in a maniacal manner, a drunken craze.

A piercing shot lands square through the man's diaphragm. As his gun fell, his hands clutched at his chest. Arthur's leg caught the mans foot as he fell. His body thumping harshly with his last gutteral breath.

A vaunt whistle blows from your lips with that shot, some of your long departed pride returning after missing all those shots in that cold forest.

Arthur grumbles in response to your display of ego, getting up while he does so, quickly scanning the inside of the cabin.

In all reality, you were simply attempting to cope with the reality of your sin filled life. Even your own friends fell victim, a despicable and haunting feeling.

You could tell by his clenched jaw and his tense fists that this day wouldn't mark the disbandment of the gang you called your own for years.

Keiran stood mere feet from you, seemingly standing behind you as some sort of shield, far more petrified than what you could understand.

Arthur storms over, waving an accusatory finger and giving the evil eye to both of you. "You set us up!" He snarls. "Come here."

Both you and Keiran took a step back at his angry tirade.

"What?-" Keiran stammers, stumbling forward, never seeming to move farther than where you were at.

Arthur steps no more than arms length from you both. "You both set us up." He repeats, his patience running thinner than a strand of hair.

"No, I didn't!"

"You did, Colm O'Driscoll ain't here!" His hand flies up, a gun meeting both your faces.

"He was here, I swear.. I sw-" You give him a soft pat, to comfort him at the very least.

"If we was settin' you up, we wouldn't have saved you." Your arms were raised lowly, yet again staring down the barrel of his - well, your gun. "We shot along side you."

Bill and John slide down the hill behind you, joining the small congregation where you and Keiran were held at gunpoint. "It's a good point, Arthur." Bill agrees, chuckling at his unbridled anger.

Bill gave you a look of acceptance, a nod for the favor you dealt him.

Arthur exhales deeply, some of his rage leaving him through the release. He stands, considering. His eyes filled with irritation that calmed the longer his gaze was fixed on you.

"Alright then, go on, get out of here. Both of you, and I won't kill you."

You thought on it, but now you had a big, bright X on your head. Both you and Keiran just stood there, awkward as can be.

Arthur murmured under his breath. He took a stomp towards you, turning you around and pushing you off in the opposite direction. "Get lost."

"Get lost?" You couldn't refute his words before he already started talking again.

"Im lettin' you run away, now get outta here." He waves his hands in an attempt to shoo you off as if you were some stray chickens.

"That's as good as killin' us." Keiran admonishes, he was fearful. No better a position as you. "Colm'll lose his mind about this!"

Keiran was good at negotiating, for what all you could tell.

"So?" A hearty scoff comes from Arthur, he cared none at all.

"So, I'm one of you now!" He claims, glancing at you. "I don't know about her..."

Now you felt stuck, were you really to join them, as Keiran attempted?

"Give me a break." Arthur thins his lips, squinting at you both. He throws his hands up, shaking his head. "Alright, but I'm warning you." He pushes through both of you, Bill and John taking that as a cue to walk back to their mounts.

"Oh, I know." Kieran agreed, though his foot hovered with hesitation. "You get the cash?"

You had forgotten about the cash, that hadn't even crossed your mind.

"What cash?" Arthur asked with little trust nor interest.

"There's usually some cash in the chimney." He points back inside the cabin, scuttling up the steps.

Arthur stops him, turning him back to walk with John and Bill. "I'll check it. Rest of you boys- and lady, get to camp, quick."

"See Arthur? I aint so bad." Keiran teases, catching up with the first two, leaving you and Arthur behind.

Arthur leaves the porch and enters the cabin, ignoring his remark. You followed in shortly after, seeing as you would have to travel back with him.

"You know, I think I'll take my things back as a thank you." You suggest, your boots clicking against the wood floor. The first time you'd been in any sort of building since Colter.

His disgruntled mood only seemed to heighten yours.

He searched the cabin interior for anything of worth before reaching the chimney, blowing you off as he focused on the current task.

"They're pretty nice guns, O'Driscoll. Might have to decline."

"They're mine because of that reason, and quite frankly, I'm no longer tied up by you-"

"Is that suppose to be a threat?" He interrupts, making his way to the shotgun mantle over the chimney.

You instantly started regretting your choice to save him.

"What if it is?" You drift over to the desk in the center of the room, sitting on the polished wood facing him, spinning your newly acquired gun with your fingers.

"How's walkin' back to camp sound to you?" He retorts, not seeming so bothered as he inspects the shotgun.

"I'd give you a peircing that matches mine." You began, he eyes you with a look of boredom.

"And I'll leave you as good as the rest of your ragtag gang." His words as nonchalant as could be.

"You got me kicked out of my gang, Morgan. You'd be leaving an innocent lady as good as the 'Oh so terrible O'Driscolls.'" The back and forth kept getting more heated, both of you refusing to stop adding to it.

"Oh," he snides mockingly. "So that's how it is? Suddenly you aint a 'terrible' O'Driscoll?'" He slings the shotgun over his shoulder, nearly rolling his eyes like a young boy. 

"I aint an O'Driscoll if I'm not a member, ain't that how it works?"

"Colm might still have you, you're his special girl or somethin' if I recall."

"Is that why you keep sayin O'Driscoll? Cuz you think I got his last name?"

"No, you just seem to enjoy suckin' up to him." His voice strained in the middle of his sentence as he bent over to pat the inside of the chimney. Fine gray powder clouded around his hand and arm, a smoky scent filling the messy cabin.

"Hardly the case." You shake your head in annoyance. "Think you're just mad that I managed to rob you - the robbers - and nearly get away with it."

"If I wasn't there shooting for you in the first place, you wouldn't have been able to get anything." He reasons, his spurs jingled as he approached your position at the desk.

"It was good team work, just extra steps, I suppose. I think I should get some compensation really." You nod, agreeing with yourself.

He stands contemplating your words with that sarcastic look on his face. "Nah, those few extra steps cost you. You'll be lucky to get your guns back." He shrugs, drawing out one of your revolvers to admire and reload right in front of your face.

"Real classy, Morgan." You glance to the side, refusing to give into his antics. "You better be glad you're big, that's the only reason people are scared of you."

He sucks in through his teeth, "So, you scared of me then?"

"Scared as I am to insult you." You were close enough to flick his hat off if you stood up, and flicking it off was exactly what you did.

His hat flew up and off his head before he could grab it. An annoyed scolding came from him as he bent to retrieve it.

"Let's get going, can't stand you any longer, a whole ride back is enough." You abmly stroll out the door and back in the direction of Arthur's horse you rode in on.

His quickend his pace to catch up with you, his spurs rattling with each stride.

"Shared sentiment, y/n." He pats your unwell arm with a bullish force, making you flinch to the side in pain.

"Goddamn you, Morgan, playin' with me like that when I have a gun?" You hiss, comforting your upper arm with a gentle hand.

"You woulda' done it already if ya' had any bullets left."

Maybe he'dve been right. Maybe if you hadn't spent two of them on Seamus and Hennessy. 

As you both walked back to the horses, you took a quick stop by the men you'd so callously shot down. Arthur said nothing, but his face did. 

You took your hat off, crossing it over your chest and had it not been for the situation, the arm and the man at your side, you would've given them your proper respects, at least what you owed them for taking the greatest debt of all. Their lives. 

"C'mon, O'Driscoll..." Arthur calls, though with more quiet and patience than just moments previous. "Next round of 'em won't be so kind." 

---

You were quick to smack Arthur's arm from behind, reminding him exactly what you wanted as soon as he was to dismount and hitch his horse. Your guns, your gun belt, saddle and everything you had inside those saddlebags.

He said he would at least, all that much you weren't quick to trust. A man of his word? You weren't sure.

Before he even pulled to a stop, you slid off the back of his horse, stretching. A small fire lit inside you again. You knew exactly what you were going to do tonight.

You promptly met your mare, who didn't seem ill-taken care of despite who she belonged to.

You were thankful and you were sure she was too, showering her with all the affection she had missed for these past days.

You sat and pondered there with her, allowing her to graze next to you. Horseshoe overlook. You'd been here a time or two, enough to know where the town of Valentine was, your memory being reignited by your ride with Arthur.

As the losing evening closed in, you could feel hunger slowly climb from inside you, the adrenaline from the hour previous only now subsiding enough for you to feel your body's needs. You were just waiting on Arthur to gather all your things. Certainly did take his time.

You sat criss-cross on the grassy soil underneath you, getting a good look into camp. You were still skeptical to go much nearer than where you had been tied to all those days. You felt unwanted and that wasn't only a feeling, it was reality.

Just as you figured finding Arthur, he finally arrived before you with all your items gathered and dumped on the ground in front of you, though he had the decency to keep your guns off the floor.

Your brows knitted together at his display of discontent. "Thank you, dearly, errand boy." sntaching up your belt as you rose up, solace in one of your favorite possessions back on you for good. "I'd appreciate more work from you like that."

You shot out your hand, motioning the safe return of your gun. He reluctantly obliged.

"Shut your mouth, sweetheart." More than discontent evidently, you now thought, snickering as you heaved your saddle off the ground.

"Don't be so brash, really." You shrug off his demand, packing your horse with your saddle. As you slung over your saddle bags, you checked them, half hoping that some semblance of money from your attempt still laid in there or even what you had initially.

Nothing. You peered back to the vexed Arthur across from you.

"You know, you could buy me some drinks. Since I ain't even got the money I had beforehand from the robbery in here." Your reasoning now had him even more stuck up.

"No. You're on your own woman." His arms crossed, the hat atop his head almost covering his eyes completely.

"Tsk. Real snob that one." You curse to yourself, tightening the girth before fitting your foot in the stirrup.

You mounted your horse, once again reunited under the same saddle you had ridden in for so long. It excited you and she could feel it. A giddy little prance from her as she turned in the direction you desired.

Straight to Valentine before the days done. You figured you'd just have to stick up some poor fella you found along the way for some cash, lest you would be there having to barter your measly and limited items for some tiny morsel.

-

Arthur had shown up after all, not with you, no, he strayed behind at least a good hour.

You squinted at him from across the room, though now you weren't even so sure that was him over there. He looked much too strange.

You hardly kept still in the bar seat, the piano music around you seemingly getting ever louder, but it didn't bother you.

You sat and exchanged a few hearty laughs with the men in the seats beside you who offered to pay for your drink after you never found anyone to properly stick up.

This was damn near the most fun you'd had for months, tears pricked at your eyes with every joke that was told or added to and you could hardly control yourself.

"Whatcha got there? 'Nother drink?" You felt your arm droop out. You reached for it further and further, but the old man leaned away from you as he took a big swig from it.

Your hand caressed the floor, the barstools towering over you, dangling feet and long legs swinging in every which way. A barely noticeable hint of pain felt from your elbow and side. It was like laying down in a forest, your mouth slightly agape as you examine the moving trees above you.

You lied there a moment before you lifted off the ground just as magically as you had ended up on it in the first place. The two men you drank with had pulled you off the wood together, however this led them to their own date with the planks. Stumbling and swaying, their arms flailing in different directions.

You wheezed and wheezed so much it hurt, holding onto the counter top of the bar as to have some balance that your body took away with every moment your eyes stayed open.

The one with a handlebar mustache and a bowler's hat seemed to get closer and farther once he finally returned to his feet. You grabbed his arm to pull him to safety. As for the other, he was behind you, beyond your help.

You hunched over the countertop, using your upper body to keep you straight in the room that was anything but straight, everything was so distorted, it gave a new look to everything around you.

"Jus... whatcha you doin... there..?" The one with a hat asked you from his barstool, even sitting he had trouble staying upright, his hand fisted into the wood to stay somewhat still.

You looked down, back to him drearily and back down again before you finally hiccuped in response, not sure what you were doing either.

"How 'bout 'nother drink?" You put your pointer finger out as to call the bartender over. Your two buddies hooped and hollered from aside you, doing their utmost to raise their arms and cheer.

"I think you've had enough for tonight."

The clearest words that came out of someone's mouth tonight. They didn't hardly make any sense to you.

"That's ridicu-lsh.. 'm haven't had.. enough..." You chided, your barmates stood up for you, scolding the sober one to the best of their ability.

"You 'bout'a get haaam-mered!" The one behind you, half bald with overalls gripped your left shoulder, and much to your delight, that aching pain was gone!

"Chrissst... you 'n me BOTH good buddy!" The bartender hands you a reluctant glass, and by god did it taste the best of all.

Not two drinks in before you got knocked over by the one proclaiming you were about to get hammered. Your arm still up in the air as you observed him slumped on your shoulder, past out beyond all comprehension.

Then you felt another hand on you, your head slowly moved round to where it came from.

"You..." You huffed at him. "Gonna drink wit' me... now?"

He examines you but for how long you could hardly tell, your eyes were on the ceiling, the chandelier, everything but Arthur's face.

"I wouldn't say no?" He giggles at your question in a way you'd never heard before.

"You said no!" You argue, though not angrily, you couldn't imagine feeling like that now.

"Cuz... you're a Driscoll."

"Again?" You looked ever so surprised. "I knew... Colm'd come 'round." You chuckle, trying your utmost to hunch over and grab your fallen glass.

Before you knew it, he was sitting right next to you, like a big brick. You liked it. Holding both your arms on his back and letting your head hang, a small rest period.

"So," you start, patting his back to get his head to turn to yours. "You gon'... get me that drink?"

"I need one… more than you." He shakes his head, to which you put your hand on top of to stop him from shaking it. Didn't look quite right.

"Nooo… you don't. Quit foolin' 'round."

He pushes your arm off, his hat going with it, falling the opposite side of the counter. His eyes drooped, swaying further from his nose and then much too close, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Awwh... see now, why'd you.. go and do that." He starts dragging himself over the counter to retrieve his hat. You helped by pushing him firmly with your palms to his ass. He swatted at you with one hand but your efforts not futile, he slid fully to the other side with a loud thump.

"You can't be back here, Sir!" You couldn't quite tell if he was yelling at you or not. Did you look like a sir? You weren't back there.

Arthur pops back up, hat back to its normal spot. You clapped at his bravery, though he was quick to climb back over the counter whilst he got shooed off by the bar tender.

You helped pull him back over, his hands clasped your wrists as you pulled with all your might. Much to your terror, he didn't let go when he reached his tipping point. You were yanked down with him, wincing as your head made contact with the floor.

"Goddamn it, god damn… Morgan, more like it." Struggling to get back up, you grab Arthur, using him as leverage, effectively pulling him back to the floor.

Once you finally made it back up, you held onto your bowler hat boy, only not so for much longer once you put his hat on your head, yours long gone.

"Yeahh... hic." His eyes blinked as irregular as a frogs. "There ya go!"

You patted his arm with long sweeping motions, your typical motor skills didn't seem so inclined to work efficiently.

"Dance? Let's dance.. but not him." You wave to Arthur a seat away from you. Arthur? He wasn't there. You swiveled your head around, though your eyes weren't so quick to act, lagging behind when you tried locating Arthur.

Your buddies expression changed into one of slight anger. The most he could possibly muster.

His inner leg would swing right, your outer leg, in. It was a wonder you hadn't fallen over yet, a shared wonder amongst all who watched and cheered you on.

"Hey you mist'r... you buzz off..." he demanded, slamming his hand down weakly on the counter top. His anger directed at the wrong man. You egged him on nonetheless, happy to have someone else finally on your side.

-

You held onto each other, swinging your legs out haphazardly with your best pal, the one who hadn't gone and was sticking it out with you.

You coughed hard with every chuckle that left you, other bar goers joined in as well, much to your delight.

Your eyes deceived you so many times that night you had to be looking at an apparition of that snide man.

You scanned him, but instead of being annoying, he joined in next to you. Course your rivalry at a stand still, albeit you were only half sentient, anymore than that and more fists might've been involved.

You danced with Arthur, your bowler buddy, at times the floor even. You soaked it all up like you did the booze, returning to the counter with Arthur, another request fulfilled.

"Artur..." you slap his side enough to get his attention. "Out... there... outsside."

He looked too confused, so you hooked your arm in his, having him follow along best he could.

"What?"

You landed on the swinging door in a feigned sense of something you could lean on, both you ending up on the floor again.

You sat for a second, before the wavy door opened again. Caught staring at the thing that came out.

"Damn, ya'll stink." An insult as he stepped over you both, he said some other words too, you think.

Arthur tripped the man as he strode through, your eyes widening as he went down. He yelled maledictions out, turning for Arthur who had a grand time with this.

"Oh... shit." you drawl in a long, tired breath. You glimpsed at your gun, drawing it out, half expecting it wouldn't work to ward off the man, but it did. He turned back and left with a hurry.

Arthur kept laughing, which made you start laughing at the spontaneity of all this.

Eventually, you got up, taking on the staircase that swayed like the ocean's tide, Arthur not long after you, traveling down the road to some obscure part of town. Haphazard mumbling and incoherent words all the while.

That's how you concluded the night, your first free night. Exploring in a drunken haze with the man who not only doubled as your captor but also your liberator. The one who shot but saved you. More irony than what you could care for as of now.

♡

pt5!

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

↳ notes: a bit different from my normal x reader fics. thanks to @ike9306 for pushing me to write about tracker again. enjoy this mess of a fic between two closeted gays

↳ warnings: none. just some overly self indulgent shit

↳ song: lose my mind in hysteria—fake fast

sona masterlist | commissions | carrd

Tracker didn't even move from their spot on the floor as their teammates stepped over them, choosing to relish in the feeling of the cool concrete floor on their face. It was simply too much of a bother to consider moving, so they didn't. And they probably wouldn't unless someone made them at this point.

"How charming." A pair of leather shoes stopped by their hip with an almost judging stance.

"Go fuck yourself, Spy." Tracker muttered, words suffocated by his current position. They could practically hear the eyeroll the older man let out before sauntering away. Tracker basked in the silence left behind, letting sunlight from outside the respawn turn the inside of their eyelids red. It was a period of momentary peace. But as the name suggests, it was just that. Momentary.

"Awh yeah! Woo! I cannot believe I just did tha'! Man, I am awesome. Hey, hey Tracker! Did you see me out there?!" Scouts post battle glow settled across everything in a mile wide radius. His mouth was running a mile a minute, and Tracker was sure if he opened his eyes Scout was going to be jogging in place from excitement.

Yup. He was.

"Hey, what are you on the ground for? We won! We totally destroyed those losers! The SS. We're Done Sucking has left the station, pal!"

As much as Tracker wanted to tell Scout to leave him alone, he sighed and hauled himself to his feet. It took all but five seconds, and by the time they looked up, Scouts grin there right in front of him.

"Come on, stop frownin'. You look like Spy. You did just fine out 'dere. Wasn't your fault the BLU Sniper was on his a-game today." That got Tracker to crack a smile, and Scout caught sight of it before they could shove it back down. But he didn't mind.

"I guess you did pretty good too, Scout." Tracker scratched his arm. "I saw the aftermath of that Pyro. Brutal."

Scout's face burned at Trackers compliment.

"Yeah, well, they we're gonna burn ya. Couldn't let 'em get my teammate, ya' know?" He fumbled, jogging to catch up with Tracker, the likes of which had stood up to put his spare beartrap away in his locker. They were the only people left still inside the base room, and had been for a minute. The only other sign of life was a fly or two buzzing around one of the florescent lights overhead.

Tracker just hummed in response, choosing to drop the topic before Scout started to resemble a tomato again. He closed his locker door with a click.

"Let's go wash up, yeah? It's Engie's night to cook, and I want to see if he'll make that garlic bread thing again."

"Yeah. Yeah!" Scout puffed out his chest and put more emphasis into his words the second time around. He lead Tracker out of the respawn room with a boyish grin, only looking back once to make sure he was being followed.

"Maybe afterward you can bring Tom Jones on over to my room for a little celebration. I'll throw him on my record player for you." Tracker flicked the light switch on the wall down, successfully bathing the room in a darker shade of colors than before. Sunlight filtered in just enough to allow Tracker to look back at Scout, only to find the mercenary already facing him with a look in his eyes.

"Tha' sounds, uh, nice. Yeah." Scout was speaking quieter than usual, and Tracker wondered why. The brunet cleared his throat hurriedly, only melting back to normal when Tracker placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, taking extra care not to touch any skin in the process.

"Let's get a move on, otherwise they'll all think we eloped off to Texas."

And with that the two teammates closed the door together, leaving the room with a pair of smiles on their face; one a giant beam, and the other a tiny gesture of affection.

[androidcharles]

Rockin' the House Chapter 3

There's a lot crammed into this chapter, so here's a general summary

Ellie has been commissioned by Charles to write lyrics for their music! And she meets up w/ an old friend in the process... And after that the show starts! How well will it go?

Ellie tapped a pencil on her desk as she let out a small sigh, trying to concentrate as she stared at the blank piece of paper. A week ago, Charles had begged her to write lyrics for one of their songs in time for their first performance. Their set list consisted of four songs, three of them covers of songs ancient and modern. It had been a while since she had really written, so writing lyrics for Charles and his band should have been a piece of cake.

However, it seemed like she was having a hard time finding inspiration. It was strange that Charles chose her to write songs for them. He only requested her to do it because his lyrics were a bit dark. She had read over them and didn’t seem to think they weren’t that bad. A bit horrifying in some places, but it didn’t really fit their sound at all.

Charles seemed to like writing somewhat cheerful sounding songs, but dark lyrics wouldn’t really fit with that. But than why did Charles ask her to write the lyrics? Her poems were pretty dark too.

Maybe he thought they were more tame compared to half of the stuff he wrote. She sighed as she glanced over at the clock, realizing it had only been thirty minutes and slammed her head on the desk, letting out a small groan.

“You OK?” Her head popped up and she saw Henry looking at her with a bit of worry.

YOU SHOULDN’T BE OUT OF BED, Henry said, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

“Writing a song for Charles?” Ellie said, “I mean, he asked me to… The cast comes off in about a few days anyway. I might as well get used to moving around anyway.”

WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO WRITE, ANYWAY? Henry asked.

“Charles said he wanted something bittersweet,” Ellie said, “I guess that’s what my poems are? That’s a very interesting way of putting it. His friends said his poem was too dark.”

“Bittersweet…” Henry said softly as he glanced at the papers.

“I’ve already heard their songs. They’re pretty good actually. Charles uploaded the recordings onto AudioMist,” Ellie said, “I listened to them to get a good idea of how I should write these lyrics but in all honesty, I’m not sure if I can do something that’ll impress him.”

WELL, DON’T FORCE IT. TRUST ME, WHENEVER I’M MAKING SCULPTURES AND STUFF, I FIND THAT MAKING FROM THE HEART IS MORE IMPORTANT THEN TRYING TO FORCE MYSELF TO MAKE SOMETHING, Henry signed at her, patting her back in reassurance.

“Maybe I should take a walk, just to clear my head,” Ellie said, “Maybe I’ll find something inspiring out in the city.”

CAN I JOIN YOU? Henry asked. Ellie smiled.

“Sure, why not?” Ellie said.

The two of them exited the apartment together as they headed out through the city, taking in the sights as they walked around the block before they finally decided to sit down on a city bench. Ellie was busy scribbling in a notepad as Henry took in the surroundings, doing some sketches of his own.

“I’m actually feeling the inspiration flowing through me a bit. This actually kinda reminds me of how I used to pal around with my older cousin,” Ellie said, “We’d run around Manhatten unsupervised and somehow get into all sorts of trouble. One time we got chased by two… HEY I met the Toppats before I even met them. How funny is that?” Henry giggled as he watched everyone going by.

“Yeah, Jacob was always causing trouble. Then he became a security guard for West Mesa Museum,” Ellie said.

DIDN’T YOU HEAR? HE ACTUALLY GOT FIRED A WHILE BACK, Henry said.

“What? What happened?” Ellie asked.

“Um…” I HAPPENED, Henry said, making a sort of cringey face as he put his fingers together.

“Oh, yeah, you stealing the diamond did that…” Ellie said.

HOW DID YOU KNOW HE WAS WORKING AT THE WEST MESA MUSEUM BEFORE I ROBBED IT? Henry said, I NEVER TOLD YOU.

“I was kinda keeping an eye on him. But when I moved up north, I found it more difficult so I just… gave up on it. I don’t know what he’s up to now,” Ellie said. Henry only shrugged as he glanced at everyone passing by, taking note of everyone and watching them walk by. Ellie suddenly grabbed Henry’s shirt as he flinched, glancing at Ellie with a look of confusion.

“Is that… who I think it is…” Ellie said softly. She looked down the street as Henry glanced around, trying to figure out what she was looking at.

“There, over there!!” Ellie whispered, pointing at a person who was wearing a huge coat and a pair of shades, looking around as he adjusted his hat to cover his face a bit more. He tried to think of where he might have seen him before Ellie shot out of her seat, trying her best to run after the man with her crutch. Henry cautiously followed behind her as they situated themselves in an alleyway near the person in question. He glanced around again, as if he was trying to see if there was anyone watching.

“Jacob… JACOB!” Ellie shout whispered. The mans head bolted up as he flinched, trying to figure out where the voice had come as Ellie waved her hands at him. He tipped his head to the side as he started to head down the alleyway before gasping, seeing Ellie looking at him with wide eyes.

“Jacob?” Ellie whispered. Jacob took off his sunglasses, returning her bewildered look as Henry put his hand over his mouth.

“Ellie?” Jacob said, “Is that really you?” He glanced from side to side and leaned forward.

“This isn’t the best time for us to meet right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Ellie asked as they suddenly heard a couple of screams from the street.

“That’s going on right now. Excuse me,” Jacob ran out of the alleyway, shucking off the coat to reveal his clothes and a pin on the pocket of his shirt… a Toppat pin.

“No way…” Ellie said softly as he raced down the street, hearing police sirens. Henry beckoned for Ellie to follow him as they ducked through the alleys to another part of the city, where Ellie slid down against the wall and looked up in shock. Henry tapped her shoulder to communicate with her.

SHOCKED? Was the first thing he asked.

“I mean, I guess? I didn’t think he had it in him though. He was always such a goody two shoes growing up. I thought he would still be looking after our aunt. After the fire…” Ellie started to grip her head as she felt a spike of pain shook up her spine. She took a deep grounding breath before looking at at Henry, who had a great look of concern in his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ellie said, “I think I’ve had enough fresh air for today…”

“Ellie!” The pair jumped when they heard a shout and turned around to see Jacob running towards them. Ellie backed away as Jacob stared at her, almost ready to run after her before she approached him.

“You should get out of here, you robbed a bank!” Ellie said quietly.

“I just wanted to tell you that we need to meet up. There’s… a lot I wanna talk about…” Jacob said.

“What makes you think I’m not gonna turn you in to the authorities?” Ellie asked.

“Because… I trust you?” Jacob said, “I don’t know, but I gotta run! Please, let’s meet up, I promise it’ll be worth it!” Jacob ran off as Ellie sighed, resting her head against the wall.

“Wanna go home now?” Henry said softly as Ellie nodded her head.

- - - - -

About two days had passed since Ellie’s encounter with Jacob. She had mentioned it to Charles and Charles seemed a bit shocked that he was related to Ellie.

“I thought that Rose was a very common last name!” Charles said, “To think that was your cousin… I can’t believe it.”

Meanwhile, she had managed to write at least one song for the first song Charles had written. Charles loved it a lot and was already practicing it with Amelia, who seemed to have a hard time playing and singing at the same time. However, things were getting better considering the people they were practicing with.

Ellie wanted to write another song with the second song that Charles had written, but she couldn’t seem to think of anything in the moment.

“Don’t worry too much about it!” Charles had told her as he packed his things for band practice, “Even one song is enough! I think we’ll just perform some covers of some other songs.”

“I don’t want your band to devolve into a cover band though. I’ve still got a week, I could probably get something done for you in that time!”

“Don’t worry too much about it. I know the creative process and it sucks sometimes. Just get it out when you can, alright?” Charles said, “Say, how about you come with me?”

“Huh?”

“You wanna meet with your cousin right? Might as well come with me.”

“I’d rather not. You’re pretty welcome over, but the other Toppats might not take too kindly to me.”

“Well, not everyone is nice to me. Our music trainers are still kinda cold towards me and there’s also a couple of Toppats here and there who’ll jeer at me. There’s this one Toppat in the kitchen though, Scottie who’s really nice! Ah, well, that’s just to name a few,” Charles said, “If you want, I can have you stay in the chopper and I’ll ask the Right Hand Man to find Jacob so he can meet you up there.” Elllie pondered this for a second. It had been a while since she had talked to her cousin and it would be nice to catch up once again.

“Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But only if you promise I’m not gonna be like… taken prisoner or anything.”

“You have my word. If they try anything on you, I’ll give them hell.” Ellie followed Charles out the door, letting Henry know that she was going out and she would be back soon. Charles handed him a slip of paper before heading out, locking the door behind him.

“What was that?” Ellie asked.

“A slip of paper with the coordinates of the Toppat manor. If anything happens, he can come rescue us!” Charles said as he headed up to the roof.

After about an hour of flight, the helicopter landed on top of the manor in the designated location, where Amelia was already waiting for him with Dave. Charles stepped out of the helicopter as Ellie walked towards the pilots area, watching him talk to Amelia and Dave as Amelia tipped her head to the side. Immediately, she ran towards the helicopter’s entrance and rapidly pulled the door open, causing Ellie to jump as she stared at her.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at her.

“Hey… long time no see,” Ellie said, “I wanna talk to my cousin, Jacob Rose. Is that OK?”

“Jacob? Yeah, that’s alright!” Amelia said, “You’re not gonna attack him are you?”

“That really depends on a lot of things,” Ellie said, “Can you just tell him that I’m up here?”

“Sure!” Amelia immediately accessed her messenger app and typed up a message for Jacob.

GlitterToppatGirl: Jacob

RoseRedToppat: what

GlitterToppatGirl: Are you available?

RoseRedToppat: what do you need

GlitterToppatGirl: There’s a girl claiming to be your cousin here right now on the roof. She has red hair, I forgot her name… Elsie or something? …….Hello? HEY

“Geez,” Amelia muttered as she closed her messenger, “I’ve gotta get to practice. There’s a room nearby you can wait in if you want.”

“No thanks I’m good,” Ellie said as she cautiously exited the helicopter, relishing the fresh air out here compared to the more smoggy air in the city. She looked up to see a sea of stars above her, feeling a bit refreshed at it all as Amelia smiled at her.

“Alright, whatever you want,” Amelia said, “Just don’t catch a cold up here.” She followed Charles and Dave as they talked amongst themselves as Ellie sighed, sitting on the edge of the helicopter, making note of anything she can do to ensure her safety when she heard the door burst open. She looked up to see Jacob, his eyes wide as he ran towards her. She jumped off of the helicopter just in time to get barreled down by a huge hug.

“ELLIE! I WAS SO FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT YOU!! When you disappeared after the fire and oh greater ones above, I don’t know what to tell you I don’t know where to start-”

“How about you start by telling me why you became a Toppat?” Ellie asked. Jacob flinched as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, it was more of a recent development. I got tired of working at this one taco stand and a Toppat approached me and asked me if I wanted to join. So… I did. I know it wasn’t really ethical, but I was sick of bouncing between jobs and living with my mom. She’s gone nuts since last year and I don’t know why. So I took advantage of the free lodging and stuff that’s offered there and I just told her I was going to work freelance somewhere else,” Jacob said.

“Seriously?” Ellie said.

“It was either that or become a streamer and I really couldn’t put up with that,” Jacob said, “I didn’t really want to be a Toppat, but I was miserable before! And you already know how my mom is.”

“That’s true, Aunt Bella was always one screw short of a working brain. But that can’t exactly be helped. Especially considering how the entire family fortune was stolen,” Ellie said.

“That’s true too,” Jacob said. He sat down at the edge of the roof as Ellie joined him, feeling a bit relieved as he turned towards her.

“So, what were you up to before you become a private investigator?” Jacob asked.

“Oh, I was a criminal too. I guess it was pretty hypocritical of me to call you out on your own little criminal thing when I was running around doing that shit myself,” Ellie said, “But there’s like… lots of holes in my memories. There are things I can’t remember and things I can’t. It’s almost scary actually…”

“Oh…” Jacob said, “I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s alright. It’s my fault mostly. I don’t know what happened, but that woman that was with my dad-” Ellie suddenly gripped the sides of her head as Jacob shot up, gasping as she shook in place, trying to breath.

“Ellie! ELLIE!” Jacob shouted, “Oh greater ones above, what do I do?” Ellie winced as she looked up, tears in her eyes as Jacob felt tears springing up.

“I’m sorry…” Jacob said, “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I don’t know why I didn’t work harder to try to find you but my mom and the police and all these other things just sort of popped up. I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine. We’re together now and that’s all that matters,” Ellie said, “So I guess now we can start over.”

“Yeah, whatever you want really,” Jacob said, lying down on the roof. Ellie lay down with him, gazing at the multitudes of stars as Jacob sighed.

“I wish I could make it up to you, I really wish I could. But if you’re operating on the right side of the law now, I highly doubt anything I could do for you would be legal,” Jacob said.

“I think meeting with you and getting confirmation that you’re still, you know, OK is good enough for me,” Ellie said.

“Well that’s good to hear,” Jacob said, “It’s nice to see that you’re OK as well. After everything that happened, I was afraid you might have died or something…”

The pair was silent as they stared at the stars above, twinkling endlessly as Jacob sighed.

“I guess that’s it then,” Jacob said, “I’m sorry that things turned out like this. I wonder… what would have happened if that fire didn’t happen.”

“We’d probably be groomed to live richy rich lives. Or playing around with the Toppats. Whatever comes first,” Ellie said.

“Well, I would have been a Toppat no matter what then. I guess nobody wins,” Jacob said. Ellie pondered over this for a second, trying to mull over her thoughts before she was suddenly struck with something. Immediately, she pulled out her phone and started to type away on it, hitting each of the buttons like she was desperate to keep the ideas flowing, like a small creek becoming a mighty river.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Jacob asked as Ellie looked up.

“I just… I got inspired, I guess you could say,” Ellie said.

“You’re still writing poetry? That’s good to hear,” Jacob said, “What are you writing?”

“Just something that I think Charles and his band will like,” Ellie said. She kept typing away as she mulled over a few details before saving her progress and sending it to Charles.

Meanwhile, Charles, Amelia, and Dave were practicing in their practice room, sounding better then ever as they finished their song.

“Wow, that was amazing!” Amelia said, “A real rush you know!”

“Amelia, are you sure you’re OK? Your voice sounds a bit… bit crushed lately,” Charles asked.

“Huh? Nah, I’m fine! I just need to practice some more,” Amelia said.

“Don’t overexert yourself sweetheart…” Dave said softly, “I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I’ll be fine! I’m an android, remember? Let’s do it again from the top!” Amelia said. Charles suddenly heard a ping in his head as he gazed at the message in his messenger.

RoseyRose sent ARoseWithoutThorns.txt RoseyRose: I think you’ll like this. This isn’t the final draft, but take a look at it and see if it’ll fit with your second song.

Charles curiously opened the text file and read over the poem before growing a bit excited.

“What’s wrong Charles?” Amelia asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Charles said, “Hey let’s start practicing the second song a bit. I know we’re cutting it close, but I really want this first set to be perfect.” Amelia bounced a little as Dave nodded his head, clacking his sticks together to count them off as they began to play again.

- - - - -

On the day of CC in the AM’s first performance, it was a bit stormy out. That didn’t stop the multitudes of Toppats (and a couple of people Henry had threatened) from heading out to the live house to see the three perform for the first time ever.

General Galeforce sighed as Rupert stood by his side, a little annoyed at the crowd. They were Toppats, that much was true. And with a full squad, they could probably arrest a few. However, they weren’t on duty technically, so they didn’t want to cause any trouble. Plus Rupert really wanted to support his boyfriend by doing this.

“If this ends up becoming another Toppat bottleneck because of that girl… I swear, Charlie’s really playing with fire here,” General Galeforce said as they entered the live house. Rupert took in the air of the place as it was packed fully with dozens of people. He wondered if Dave was even to sell all the tickets that he was given, but he recognized some of Dave’s coworkers in a small group, all talking amongst each other, glancing warily at the stage as Rupert glared at them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the good general!” Rupert jumped to see two familiar faces; Reginald Copperbottom and his Right Hand Man, both wearing poor disguises as General Galeforce rolled his eyes.

“I suppose you two are here to see your daughter perform,” General Galeforce said.

“Hm… I suppose so. I just hope she can be honest about… ah well, it’ll be fine! I can only hope I raised her right. You know how it is with android children,” Reginald said. General Galeforce chuckled, feeling himself relate a little bit. He couldn’t even count how many times Charles had lied through his teeth to him as a young android.

“I suppose a temporary truce is in place for now. Is that correct?” Reginald asked.

“You’re lucky I don’t want to cause a ruckus while my son is on stage. I know how bad concert riots can get,” General Galeforce said. Rupert glanced at the general as he gazed at the stage, feeling a bit excited to not only see his best friend, but his boyfriend performing as well.

Meanwhile, backstage Charles was pacing the floor as Dave tapped his foot uncertainly, listening to the crowd.

“Greater ones above, I hope my drums are tuned, I hope I don’t get off beat, I hope there’s no riot, I don’t want my coworkers to laugh at me, I hope-”

“Dave you’re not helping. Geez, where’s Amelia?” Charles said.

GlitterToppatGirl: I’m right here.

Amelia entered the room as Dave jumped up and hugged her tightly. Charles smiled as he clapped his hands together

“Huh? Amelia! Thank goodness you’re here! They’re waiting for us outside, c’mon, you ready to perform?”

GlitterToppatGirl: No. I lost my voice.

Charles blinked as he stared at Amelia, who opened her mouth, the most haunting glitchy sound coming out as she tried to speak before covering it up again.

GlitterToppatGirl: It’s been like that since this morning. Combined with the drivers being out of date slightly and me wearing down my voice box, it’s going to take about a week for a sufficient replacement part to come in. I’m sorry guys, I can’t sing…

“I’ll do it! I’ll sing in her place!” Dave said.

“No you need to concentrate on drumming…” Charles said, “Ah, let’s see… Well, I don’t wanna resort to lip syncing, so I guess I’ll just sing in the meantime. It won’t be the same, but I hope I can manage.”

“CC in the AM? It’s showtime!” Ozwald shouted through the door. The three of them glanced at each other, realizing how real this was before nodding their heads. They headed out, getting ready to perform for a room of over fifty people. The crowd began to cheer as the curtain opened.

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Remember the first song?

GlitterToppatGirl: Sure do. Break a leg. And not a voice box.

Charles smirked as Amelia began to strum her bass guitar and he began to sing. For the first time ever he felt nervous, watching over the crowd as they swayed to the slow song, feeling almost excited. He saw Henry and Ellie standing next to each other, watching him as he strummed his guitar, Jacob was in the crowd as well, next to his cousin bouncing along to the music.

He saw General Galeforce, a twinkle in his eyes as he watched them perform and Rupert, who was staring very intently at the stage in a mode of concentration even he couldn’t understand. Reginald and the Right Hand Man were standing next to them, Reginald bouncing in place as his eyes were fully on Amelia and the Right Hand Man recording her with his camera, a gleam of pride his eyes.

But Charles couldn’t help but notice someone else in the crowd. Someone he hadn’t seen in a while. He tried to confirm, but he had to concentrate on finishing the song. Once he did, there was a stunning amount of applause and cheering as Charles approached the microphone.

“Thank you for listening! We want to thank you all for coming out here tonight to support us. I’m glad that so many people were willing to come out and hear us sing. I’m Charles Calvin, I’m the guitarist of the band, joined by my good friend Amelia C- ah… Just Amelia is fine for her for now. She unfortunately sang too much over the past week and lost her voice. Isn’t that something?” Everyone laughed as Amelia’s inseams steamed slightly.

GlitterToppatGirl: Not cool dude 😡

“Aha, anyway, we also have our drummer back here, Dave Panpa. Dave is a pretty cool dude once you get to know him and despite his shyness he’s actually a really excellent drummer!”

“Shut up!” Dave said, “I’m not that shy!”

“Well, it’s the vibe you kinda give off you know,” Charles said, “Well, either way, I hope you enjoy this next song. It’s another cover, but I think you’ll like it.”

So the set continued as planned, with Charles giving witty banter in between songs and even introducing the two original songs, crediting Ellie for writing the lyrics to them. As the finished the final bar of their last song, the crowd cheered, clapping and waving their hands as Charles glanced over the it, feeling a chill down his artificial spine.

No he wasn’t imagining it. There were two other androids in the crowd… they just left.

“Ah, I want to thank you guys for coming out to hear us perform! Check out my AudioMist profile CCintheAM for more original songs and of course thank you guys for coming out tonight! We love all of you and we hope you have safe travels going home!” The crowd cheered as the curtain closed, Charles glancing at Amelia with a bit of uncertainty.

GlitterToppatGirl: Don’t worry, I saw them too.

xXBold_Action_ManXx: What were they doing out here? Spying maybe? Trying to catch us off guard?

“Are you guys OK?” Dave asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Charles said, “Everything’s alright! We just got through our first set though! High fives all around!” As the three of them exchanged high fives and Dave jumped up to give Amelia a big hug and soft kiss on the lips, Ozwald popped up again, all smiles.

“Great job you three. I was a bit doubtful at first, but you three showed real potential. I guess I can count on you for another performance next month!” he said.

“You bet! Hopefully Amelia has learned a big lesson about over singing, right Amelia?” Charles said.

“Well, clear off the stage,” Ozwald said, “I imagine you need some rest after that.” The three of them nodded their heads as they caught Dave up on the situation.

“There were androids in the crowd? Oh no, you don’t think they’re spying on us, aren’t you?” Dave asked.

“Well, probably. But I don’t know why,” Charles said, “After all, there’s really no benefit to disrupting one of our concerts, so it was probably just to scare us. That’s just disturbing, knowing they were watching us…”

“Maybe they’re planning something!” Dave said, “After all, they wouldn’t be spying if they weren’t really planning anything.”

“We’ve been chasing them around on days where we haven’t practiced. But I don’t know how they found out about us…” Charles said.

“Hey.” the three of them jumped as large man approached the door of the backstage room.

“There’s a group of people claiming to know you. Ellie and Henry their names were?” he said, “There’s also these three mustached dudes and a… living porcupine I think…”

“I’M NOT A PORCUPINE!” Rupert shouted as Charles giggled.

“Let them in,” Charles said, “They’re harmless. Mostly.” The group filed into the room as they extended their congratulations to the three of them. Henry was excitedly signing to Charles as Ellie smiled thoughtfully at him, General Galeforce patting him on the back and giving him praise for his first performance.

Meanwhile, Amelia was being absolutely bombarded with hugs from Reginald as the Right Hand Man very uncharacteristically started to talk very rapidly as he showed Amelia the recorded footage, pointing out his favorite parts as Amelia smiled sheepishly, unable to express her discomfort and embarrassment at the situation.

Rupert was also talking to Dave, telling him how amazing it was that he managed to perform without getting scared or anything as he smiled shyly, telling Rupert about how nervous he was perform but he had to get over that not only for Amelia’s sake, but for his own as well.

After a while, the group finally decided to head to their respective homes, wishing each other a good night as Charles waited for a cab with Henry and Ellie.

“It feels kinda strange to hear something that you’ve written being performed like that…” Ellie said as she stretched, watching Reginald pile into a car with a couple of other Toppats.

“If you want, I can start writing songs so you don’t have to worry about it,” Charles said.

“No, it’s fine, I can keep writing lyrics for you. Just let me know when you need some and I’ll be more then happy to provide,” Ellie said.

IT REALLY WAS GREAT HEARING YOU GUYS PERFORM. I KNEW YOU WERE GOOD WITH MUSIC, CHARLES, BUT TO THINK THAT YOU COULD PLAY THAT WELL… THAT WAS AMAZING, Henry said, smiling at him.

“It was all thanks to our music trainers,” Charles said. The cab approached the curb as they piled in, a bit tired as they headed home, the music from earlier stuck in their heads.

- - - - -

Theodore and CJ were in the alleyway, watching the crowd of people disperse as Theodore sighed.

“I don’t understand. If these androids are not living their ideal life, how come they look happier then us?” CJ asked.

“You know exactly why that’s the answer. I just hope I can convince Daxton of the same thing…” Theodore said, “I’m just scared is all. What if we’re doing this whole Project SAI thing for nothing? What do we even have to gain from it?”

“Money? Power?” CJ said.

“But wouldn’t it better if you could be a little more independent like them?” Theodore said, “Without those obnoxious doctors breathing down your neck?”

“Well, they know what’s best so-”

“So what?” Theodore said, “If they told you to jump off a cliff would you?” CJ shook their head as Theodore sighed.

“I thought so,” Theodore muttered, hearing a ringing in his ears.

Speak of the devils…

“Theodore, report on your findings,” Dr. Daffodil said.

“They were just playing a concert or whatever. Not my kinda scene to be honest. I prefer metal,” Theodore said.

“And the performers were androids?” she asked.

“Only Unit CC and Unit AM. Amelia and Charles as they call themselves,” Theodore said.

“Hmm… interesting. Maybe they’re trying to start this band as a way to garner favor for free will for all androids!” Dr. Daffodil said.

“Or they were just bored and wanted to do something beside fight us!” Theodore said.

“You say that like we’re the bad guys!” Theodore desperately wanted to say that he did feel like, for the first time ever, they really were the bad guys. Stealing all sorts of computer parts, breaking and entering restricted areas, continuing a terrible project under the nose of the government forces was enough to make him feel dirty on the inside.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theodore said, “I’ll report back to HQ with the video footage and you can see for yourself what this is.”

“Fine, fine. But be quick! You weren’t supposed to be out for this long and who knows who might have seen you and Unit CJ. Daffodil out.” As Dr. Daffodil hung up the phone, Theodore let out a long sigh as CJ looked at him curiously.

“Are we heading out then?” CJ asked.

“Yep, pretty much,” Theodore said. The two of them disappeared into the alleyway, heading back to Site B. But Theodore felt something eating away at him, something that he needed to take care of.

Maybe if I can convince Daxton… maybe… maybe we can scrap this awful idea and move onto something better.

Not just for me, but for them as well.

[prying-pandora666]

"Yes I wrote that thing for ATLA that one time." Now I'm too curious not to ask. So what thing did you write for ATLA that one time?

Do you remember those old Puppetbender ads that got made to promote Book 3? Dave Roman of Nickelodeon commissioned those because he was such a big fan of Potter Puppet Pals and wanted something like that for ATLA.

I was a homeless 19 year old whose older brother had JUST gotten home me to stay with him so I’d have a place to be away from the household we had both escaped (at vastly different times, he’s much older than me).

I was gifted with this opportunity just for trolling a shipper board in a creative way haha! It was quite the experience! I owe it all to Kevin Coppa who brought me on.

I even had the honor of voicing Azula for one of these ads! Being part Chinese, I guess that makes me the first Asian VO for Azula! I’m primarily Latina though (I’m Peruvian Chinese), and advocate that Grey Delisle will always be the true voice of Azula. I’ve been told at least one (maybe two?) of these promos are on the DVD Boxset. I have the Blu-Ray that didn’t get all those special features so I can’t verify.

It’s still the first two credits in my IMDB page! Even after all these years.

My life has never been easy but I was blessed with the experience and for how kind the team members we got to talk to were. I learned a lot about the show, the characters, and about writing. And while I can tell you stories (and some inside 🍵) about what it was like behind the scenes, how frustrating it was to get approval for basic jokes, some conflicts that happened even amongst the writers, why Book 3 had all the problems it did, etc, I mostly just have one thing to say.

I am so incredibly grateful.

[otnesse]

TVTropes has largely been bad lately, from hugboxing to pushing some bad stuff to really inconsistent usage of tropes. I found one particular bit on TV Tropes extremely aggravating, which was the Unintentionally Sympathetic entry for Pokemon.

"There were numerous times when Misty and Brock would self-righteously claim that Ash only got his first two badges out of pity. However, they're exaggerating at best, and lying at worst. Misty's sisters gave Ash the Cascade Badge because he saved their gym from Team Rocket, who attacked in the middle of Ash and Misty's match- which, by the way, Misty technically cheated in. She coddled Pikachu so that it wouldn't want to battle against her, in other words- tampering with her opponent's Pokemon, which is both unsporting and frankly unprofessional. As for Brock, Ash had him and his Onix on the ropes, when Pikachu accidentality set off the gym's fire sprinklers and only relented because Brock's siblings threw a fit and guilt-tripped him into forfeiting. It was Ash who felt sorry for Brock, so he chose not to win when he could have. It's unfair to label Ash as a charity case, when all he did was be the better sportsman, which comes off as Unintentionally Unsympathetic for his two companions, since repeatedly saying that Ash only got their badges out of pity, when he simply showed better sportsmanship than them, can come across as sour grapes for Misty and outright hypocritical for Brock."

Quite frankly, this stinks more of someone who outright hates Misty than an objective analysis. For one thing, Misty never coddled Pikachu. I watched the episode as a kid, repeatedly in fact since it was frequently reruns, and can play it in my head thanks to near-eidetic memory and Misty NEVER coddled Pikachu at all (actually, Pikachu chose of his own volition to not fight Misty. The most Misty did was thank Pikachu for "being a Pika-Pal". Sure, might not have been one of her best moments in one sense, but she didn't convince him not to fight as an easy win. And even IF Misty had somehow coddled Pikachu, THAT'S not cheating, either, since it wasn't against League rules unlike two-on-one battles. And if that's cheating, so is Ash hooking Pikachu up to a run-down water mill plant to effectively give him electric steroids, which is EXACTLY what he did to nearly defeat Brock.). I might as well ALSO point out that Ash saving the gym, while commendable, is hardly a good qualification for actually earning the badge since the entire POINT behind fighting a Gym Leader for the badge, not to mention actually beating them, is specifically to prove your strength and ability to train Pokemon for the Pokemon Leagues, which is first and foremost a fighting tournament. To give a good comparison, in Pokemon Gold and Silver, the player character at one point has to convince Jasmine to resume gym duties, but she refused largely because she needed to care for an ill Ampharos who acted as the lighthouse's power source. The player obviously needs to get secret medicine to fix up Ampharos, and does so. Using the guy's argument, since the player obviously saved the Ampharos, not to mention prevented a full-scale disaster to Olivine City regarding constant shipwrecks as a result of the lighthouse potentially being permanently out of commission due to it possibly dying, Jasmine ought to just give the player the badge then and there. But no, instead, you're STILL required to go to the gym to face her in battle, and win, to earn the badge regardless. Using his argument, Jasmine was also sour grapes. In fact, Blaine made similar arguments later on in the same series, and even after Ash similarly saved at least Cinnabar Gym if not the ENTIRETY of Cinnabar Island under similar circumstances, Blaine made absolutely sure to state that while Ash definitely did a very heroic deed, he nevertheless was NOT going to give him the badge for that reason, and instead was willing to permit him with a rematch, which DID ultimately have Ash actually EARNING the badge in the proper manner. If anything, Misty was being professional regarding that bit, or at least attempting to be. Either way, at least her gripe was somewhat justified since her sisters did just hand Ash the badge and overruled her, and at least she was actually consistent whether sour grapes or not. I will agree in regards to Brock, however, mostly because that unfortunately DOES match up precisely as described, and also is ultimately consistent with my rationale with Misty being justified ultimately. I mean, yeah, sure, I might not agree with the term "pity badge" per-se (since they definitely weren't awarded regarding pity as a motivator. Ironically, Misty actually DID narrowly prevent an ACTUAL instance of pity badges being issued, hence their battle), but Misty's overall point was still very much valid overall since he still never actually earned it by beating the Gym Leader, Misty in this case (and speaking as someone who HATED the concept of "everyone getting a trophy" as a kid, even didn't feel at all good about it if I got a trophy despite literally quitting soccer beforehand, I actually am inclined to agree with Misty and to a lesser extent Brock regarding that bit. Of course, I will admit that if a trainer DID repeatedly abuse his pokemon in a match I don't think they're obligated to get a badge just because they won against a Gym Leader either, but I think that's the only REAL exception regarding winning badges).

It almost reminds me of Snaters right now from what people like @kahran042 pointed out (I myself am neutral to Snape as well as to the Marauders, but I can see how Snape can be considered positive regarding kahran's arguments. Besides, if Vader can be considered redeemed of his various transgressions in ROTJ, I don't see how Snape can't be considered redeemed, either.).

[big-bad-a-detective-story]

Chapter 10

“I can’t believe you did that.”

I peeked my eyes open; it wasn’t the first time having done so, as I watched my roommate readjust himself in the chair next to my hospital bed. I groaned. If this was anything like the last dozen spiels Felix had given over the last few days, I should just close my eyes and tune him out. If I was lucky, the guy would stop if he thought I was unconscious.

Naturally, I underestimated how much Felix was given to his dramatics.

“You almost died, Norman. DIED! And where would that have left me? Hmm? Grief stricken! Absolutely wrought with guilt and despair! But did you ever think of that? Of course not!” 

I could hear a choked sob, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. What a drama queen. With the way the guy had been going on, you’d think Felix thought my injuries were meant as a slight against him! 

The fox continued his ranting:

“You HAD to go and play hero, didn’t you? No care for MY feelings! Now look at you, you’re practically dead!”

I groaned and laid my head back down. For once, this unsung hero was wishing to remain unsung, if it meant being scolded for it! But Felix continued to sing, on and on, every day I spent in the hospital. Whether he was being a loyal companion or just needed someone to complain to, I still didn’t know. But he was there, he kept the silence at bay ... no matter how much I yearned for it.

Ah, yes, but about the case. That’s why you’re here, after all! Not to worry. Both of the Crooked Man’s crooked goons were apprehended ... and sent directly to the hospital. But after that! Directly to prison. Another case solved.

Well, almost. My sources inform me they never found the Crooked Man ... he’s likely still out there. But without a home, without backup, it’s only a matter of time before I find him and bring him to justice.

Two out of three wasn’t bad, after all. I’d take it, for now.

I was startled out of my reminiscence by the sudden attack on my pillow. Felix, no doubt from a mixture of boredom and worry, was back to fussing over me. In this case, quite literally, as he attempted to fluff the pillow back to life.

“Felix, do you MIND?” I glared, doing my best to re-situate my bedding. Not an easy task, considering I had an arm out of commission-- cocooned and cradled against my chest. “I’m roughed up as it is; I don’t need you adding to it, ya know!”

This seemed to break my roommate out of the aggravated spell that had been over him, as his over the top theatrics became more somber.

“I’m sorry, Norman. You just looked uncomfortable, and I don’t know what to do with myself while I’m here.”

“You can always try going home.” I grumbled. The Big Bad Wolf wasn’t someone who liked being coddled, even on a good day! Felix, however, bristled at the idea- a shudder going through him that ended at the tip of his tail.

“And leave you to the wolves, doing who knows what because you think you’re fine when you’re most certainly NOT?” The fox shook his head, plopping back down in the chair next to the bed, scooting the chair closer. “Heavens, no. Mother Goose knows what sort of trouble you’d get in here by yourself. Better to stay put until you come home with me.”

This declaration was finished with his hands gently placed on my broken arm-- rubbing it as if to soothe through the layers of the cast. I sunk deeper into the mattress, not having the energy to fight off the nagging any longer. I sighed, defeated.

“Whatever you say, Felix…”

“There there,” my pal comforted. “ On the plus side, a little birdie may have told me that you’ll have some visitors today. A bit of a change of pace. Won’t that be nice, hun?”

“Goodie, more questions from the police.” Sarcasm became genuine as a smile broke out on my maw. “Although, I wouldn't mind gloating some more to Constable Ogol. She nearly blew a fuse the last time she was here.”

Ah, memories. Sometimes it paid to be good at my job. Maybe not in money, per sey… But eh, that’ll come eventually. For now, the Big Bad Wolf would have to settle on what he could get.

I caught Felix smirking in his seat, sitting up straighter in that smug way of his, and I instantly realized I’d been mistaken.

“Well Norman, that’ll have to wait, because today’s visitor is a little bit more motherly than Ms. Ogol.”

My heart sank like a ball of lead into the pit of my stomach. I let out another groan, just so he’d know how unhappy I was with the current situation.

“Felix, please tell me you didn’t invite your mother to visit me in the hospital.”

I watched from the corner of my vision as Felix’s smirk collapsed into a deep frown. He huffed.

“Not MY mother, but even so, you could STAND to be a little bit more polite when you speak about her.”

The next part was mumbled and barely audible.

“No matter what she says about you.”

I was ready to confront this new information, but was momentarily distracted by the sound of knocking on the doorframe. I lifted my head to see ... Ms. Meaiz and seven eager little faces crowding the doorway. 

It didn’t take long for the room to be flooded with kids, the lot stampeding inside in greeting. I oofed as Daniya jumped on the bed, throwing her arms around my neck--her siblings deciding to crowd close to their Uncle Fefe.

“Hiyah, Mr. Wolf!” The girl beamed, probably being one of the few people in the world genuinely pleased to see my mug. “Are you surprised to see us?”

“Very.” I used my good arm to give her a pat, not quite sure how long a hug was supposed to last. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” began Ms. Meaiz, “Mr. Fox mentioned you’ve been antsy waiting around, and the children missed you both.” The goat woman smiled apologetically. “That, and, um… Larry sends his thanks.”

“ ... Really?” I must have been giving her a funny look, because she giggled.

“Mhm! He’s in pretty high spirits these days. His sentence was reduced to two months of community service, thanks to his good behavior.”

Ah. So he ended up snitching, after all. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Disappointed, maybe, as there was about to be yet another crook back out on the streets. A detective’s work is never done.

That stormy line of thought was put on hold as the kid began bouncing up and down excitedly on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Mr. Wolf! Tell ‘em! Tell ‘em about our super cool detective adventure!” Daniya paused to pout, but at least she’d quit bouncing. “They don’t believe me!” She pointed over to the swarm of kids climbing on and hanging off of a very distressed and tired looking Felix. They all froze and turned to stare at me, expectantly. 

I sputtered from the suddenness of the demand.

“I… well...” 

Oh, what the heck. I always loved having an audience, anyhow. Especially youngins with stars in their eyes. I puffed my chest proudly-- grabbing my hat that was on the side table with a few of my other belongings-- as I plopped it on my head. To set the mood, you know. 

So, like any good story, I started from the beginning.

“Tea shop. Wednesday, 6 pm. Or at least, assumed…”

THE END

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

On New Year's 2024 I vowed to myself that I'd be more productive than ever, streamlining all of my ideas and making a decent living on commissions. While doing that I figured I'd keep my creative muscles limber by posting the occasional DUDEL or Sketch BOOM every now and again. Now chances are these won't be a daily thing. There'll be some days when I'm just feeling too bushed to scribble my silly ideas down on paper or I'll be too busy binging the likes of Steven Universe or Burn Notice. Yes, I am fully aware that those two shows make for a weird combination. Just imagine Michael Westen trying to help out the Crystal Gems, I'd totally watch that. Then again, I have a weird imagination as this DUDEL is about to illustrate.

Christopher Robin had many companions living in the Hundred Acre Woods. Though perhaps none plushy pal holds as special a place in his heart as his dear friend Edward Bear, or Pooh for short. Pooh was not a bright bear. Solving complex equations or discuss the philosophies of Plato were of little use to one who has fluff where his brains would be. Luckily brains aren't required to be intelligent. Old Edward more than made up for this when it came to his immensely large heart. Weather is was protecting his pal Piglet from Jagulars, helping his friend Eeyore find his tail, or simply bouncing around with Tigger, Eddy was the bear everybody turned to. Including Matt Whimsy, the animation magician of Hollywood responsible for Freddy and Fiona Fox. He and his animation team at Whimsy Studios adapted the classic tales of this lovable teddy bear into a series of movies over the years that have outlived A.A. Milne, Matt Whimsy, and even Christopher Robin himself. Now today fans of the characters can meet them at Whimsyland in California whenever not riding Edward's Excellent Expedition, helping the gang from the woods find the fabled North Pole!

Maybe I can help them find it after completing an entire Sketch BOOM. This was meant to be the start of one right up until Rosie Stardust foiled my plans. Dang that Cosmic Cutie and her alien design! Having said that, expect more from my multiversal adventurer later. For now I couldn't let a good design go to waste. What prompted me to draw this was Whimsyland, my answer to the question of what is Brooklyn Nine Nine took place at a theme park instead of a police precinct. Realizing I needed more recognizable characters for this fictional park, I decided to go with the ones that were thankfully in the public domain. Really the challenge was coming up with a design that wasn't similar to those used my a certain company, which I think I succeeded in doing. What helped was going back to the original designs by E.H. Shepard and keeping to the simplistic mindset. My biggest hurtle was Pooh's attire since, despite wearing one in the original freak'n book, I couldn't dress him in a tiny red shirt. So instead I settled on a scarf to fit with his adventurous life style. Here's hoping we'll see more of Old Eddy, Piglet, and Tigger in the future. For now-

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

PS: Oh, you noticed the logo on the bottom, did you? We'll talk about that later...

[blankiebloo]

Your friend, Venti~

Venti x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Note: I've had this idea ever since I did Venti's story quest, with the little device that allows people with a child-like imagination to see peoples imaginary friends!

It's a lovely day in Mondstadt; the sky is blue, the wind is blowing in that fresh scent of spring, it's just the perfect day! And what better way to celebrate this day then heading back home to Mondstadt from your most recent adventure? Plus, it'd be nice to see how your old pal Venti is doing!

Oh, and speaking of Venti, there he is! Next to the traveler at the feet of the Barbatos statue! But, what are they looking through? Whatever it is, it sort of looks like a monical.

"Well those two seem like the best of friends!" Venti exclaims as the traveler brings down the monical type thing.

"Venti!" You call out and wave as you get closer to the statue; promptly getting him, Paimon, and the traveler to look at you.

"Venti, who is that?" Paimon asks and turns towards him.

"Ah, that's my old friend, [Name]!" He says as he waves you over with a smile on his face.

"What're you guys doing?" You ask when you get to them.

"We're looking for peoples imaginary friends!"

"Hey [Name], do you have an imaginary friend?" The traveler suddenly asks, already starting to position the monical to look at you.

"Oh."

Looking through the monical they could see Venti standing next to you laughing like normal.

"Venti's your imaginary friend?"

"That’s sweet"

A subtle blush started to form on your cheeks as Venti continued to look through the monical in a calm shocked manner.

"Ahh, well I'm just going to excuse myself! Have a good day everyone!" You said as you started to walk off.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Even though coming back to Mondstadt was supposed to be a relaxing vacation after such a long adventure, that little experience sort of left you embarrassed; so you decided to spend some time doing commissions for the adventures guild. On your way back from your last commission, you noticed Venti sitting on the bridge; strumming his lyre. You walked towards him with a smile on your face, already having forgotten about your 'imaginary friend'.

As you got a bit closer Venti opened one of his eyes and upon seeing you, he opened the other and greeted you with a smile of his own. He hopped off the bridge and set his lyre down and started to speak, "I'm quite honored to be your imaginary friend [Name]"

As soon as that sentence left his mouth your cheeks started to get hot again as the image of him staring at 'himself' standing next to you flashed in your mind.

"But you know that I'm still as real as ever! So, if there's something you'd like to tell me, I think it's best to tell the real me and not the imaginary one!" He said cheerfully, and gave you a wink.

Even through his expression you could see past that and notice the little bits of blush starting to shine through on his face; and while your heart was pounding like it was about to explode out of your chest, knowing that Venti was embarrassed too was still comforting.

"You sure know how to be subtle, Mr.Bard," you joke as you step a little bit closer to him. You grab his hands to pull him closer to you, looking him in the eyes as you start to talk again, "But I think I can be more subtle. I love you." You kiss him on the forehead and then continue to walk into Mondstadt to end your day and get some sleep.

.

.

.

"Hey traveler, isn't that Venti?"

"Yes, why?"

"Uhm, why is he standing there all red in the face?"

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN SO LONG! I've just been busy with school!(and procrastinating) But I've finally found time to make this! So I hope you all enjoyed this!

[yamiiwaii]

Here's another story commissioned by @monkiekidartblog for squashed apricots !! decided to post it here like this because why not

you can read it on ao3 here !!

Xiaotian stood on his stool next to Macaque, elbows leaning against the counter as he watched the other use his hands. Macaque worked diligently, kneading the dough with a gentleness only Xiaotian has ever really seen. It wasn’t unusual to see the dark-furred monkey use his hands in a way that contradicted his gruffness, something he learned ever since Xiaotian entered his life. It was that same gentleness Xiaotian associated with his bàba—if asked—because it was all he knew, despite many others telling him otherwise.

He could never see his bàba as unnecessarily violent and mean, even now with all the scars and calluses on the monkey’s hands. Those same scars that Macaque worked hard to hide from the kid were now out in the open, being used as a bed in his palm as he worked the pieces of small dough. Xiaotian was supposed to be helping—that being the only reason he was even allowed in the kitchen—but he had gotten distracted by the motions next to him.

He had finished what small task Macaque gave him to keep him busy and stayed stood on his stool—(it was two-stepped and red with a Monkey King logo plastered on it. It was covered in various stickers Xiaotian had gotten over the years and was a bit worn out but it did its job well. Xiaotian loved it.)—and took advantage of not being shunned yet to watch Macaque. The boy started mimicking the monkey’s motions with his empty hands and Macaque glanced over, giggling softly.

The boy had a habit of mimicking whatever he saw Wukong or Macaque doing, and usually the two found it cute, but it did lead to various moments of embarrassment. (Like when Xiaotian had caught Wukong in the middle of the ginger’s teasing, right as the king planted a hearty slap to Macaque’s backside.

A few hours later Xiaotian did the same thing, slapping Macaque way too hard and catching the other off guard. It resulted in an extremely awkward conversation about how hitting was bad and there were some things Xiaotian couldn’t copy while Wukong stayed off to the side trying not to laugh.)

Macaque eventually finished kneading and rolling out the dough he needed, moving to now fill and close the dumplings to steam. The two stayed in relative silence, much of the space occupied with the occasional sounds of the other monkey subjects playing outside or the sounds of Macaque’s shuffling. Wukong wasn’t around—peacefully napping in the nest that resided in their shared room—and Xiaotian knew better than to go bother him without a good enough reason.

After the first row of dumplings was filled, Xiaotian began to grow bored. He never left, instead letting his eyes wander away from the dumplings themselves and to the palms of the other’s hands. He squinted to try and get a closer look without alerting Macaque before tilting his head to try and enhance the effect. Xiaotian knew in the back of his mind he could have just asked Macaque to see but he was afraid of the reaction he’d get.

The boy knew his bàba was very particular about his glamours—or just glamours in general—always fussing over his own or Xiaotian’s before school, but he couldn’t deny he was a little curious. He wanted to know why the shadow was so avoidant when the topic of scars came up. Or why he was always so quick to make sure Xiaotian’s scrapes were fully healed so they wouldn’t leave any marks on the boy’s skin.

Macaque felt him staring, sparing him a glance and a raised eyebrow. “What’s up, baby?”

Xiaotian jumps, scrambling to look up at Macaque’s face before turning to look at the dumpling in his hands. He pouted as he thought, turning different words in his head before he looked back up at Mac, eyes wide with wonder. “Is it okay if I see your hands, bàba?”

The question catches Macaque off guard but he nods, placing the dumpling in the steamer and holding his hands out towards the boy open palmed. Xiaotian was half expecting Macaque to have put up a layer of glamour to hide the texture of his hands, but he didn’t. Every scar, callus, and wrinkle was out in the open for Xiaotian’s eyes to wander over. The boy wondered if the shadow knew his glamour wasn’t covering his hands—or any part of him for that matter—before Xiaotian shakes that thought away.

Of course Macaque knew. He never wore his glamours at home!

The boy finds himself reaching over to hold Macaque’s hands in his own, tracing his little fingers along a few of the wrinkles silently. The action makes Mac flinch, his shadows whispering for him to pull away and hide, but he fights the urge down. This was his son— his cub —someone who wasn’t capable of hurting him even if he wanted to. Letting him fall into his curiosity just this once should be fine.

“Bàba?” Xiaotian’s voice startles Macaque, it suddenly cutting into the silence around them. Macaque hums to signal he was listening and the boy continued talking, looking up at the other as he held his hands close. “Where did you get these scars from?”

Another question Macaque was not prepared to answer at all. The monkey looked away, eyes trailing over to the steamer before looking back at the boy in front of him.

Truthfully, he did not want to tell Xiaotian. The shadow preferred to keep much of his past kept under wraps, choosing to keep them secrets for as long as he could.

He knew that wasn’t a very smart choice, something that could risk his relationship with his son, but Xiaotian was still young enough that he would be none the wiser. He didn’t speak much of his past actions since he reconciled with Wukong, keeping them locked away in the back of his mind never to see the light of day again. It was too much to explain to his kid, let alone too hard to bring up, and he just didn’t want to get into it.

Xiaotian’s wide eyes bore into him and Macaque felt like crumbling. He couldn’t ignore his kid’s question nor did he want to lie to the other either. He exhaled to steady himself and threw on a soft smile before he pulled his hands away from Xiaotian’s grip to pat his head.

“A lot of them are from work or from training I used to do when I was younger,” Macaque said lightly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I have a few from gardening too.”

Xiaotian hums, swatting the hand in his hair away before tilting his head. “What about that one?” He pointed to the slight ring of discoloration around his wrist and Macaque looked down to see what he was talking about.

It was Macaque’s right wrist, a ring of scabbed over skin showing against black fur. The fur in that area had stopped growing—having been burnt off like many other places on his body—and the skin there was taut and hadn’t properly healed.

Mac stared at it for a moment, a small frown growing on his face. He pulled his hand up to get a closer look, turning his fingers around the area lightly. “I had gotten caught,” He starts, piquing Xiaotian’s attention. “In a monkey trap laid out on the mountain by some hunters a few centuries ago.”

“Does it hurt?” Xiaotian asks, moving to take Macaque’s hand again.

Macaque shakes his head, expression melting into a fond smile as he watches his son trace over the scabs. “Not anymore. It just never healed properly and got infected a few times, but I got all that sorted out.”

Xiaotian made a noise, not looking up. “How did you get out of it?”

Macaque hums, looking away in favor of checking the steamer. Memories like that were fuzzy for the ravenette, foggy in nature, and hard to piece together. He remembers how he felt in the moment, how he was supposed to feel, but not what was happening.

But he tried to remember, looking back into his memories as much as he could.

“Pulling my hand out wasn’t an option so a few of the others tried helping.” Macaque pulls a hand free just so he could adjust the temperature on the stove. “That didn’t work though, since the trap was too narrow for me to pull out of, so your dad had to break it open.”

Xiaotian gasps, looking up at Macaque giddily at the mention of Wukong. “Dad helped you?”

“Of course he did. Your dad hates hunters and he was really really mad when he saw I got caught in a trap.” Macaque pulls away to lift his limp hand up into the air with a hold on his wrist before bringing it down to demonstrate the trap breaking. “Just took my hand and smashed the thing on the ground. It shattered everywhere but it left a tight piece around my wrist…”

“And that’s where that’s from?” Xiaotian prompts, pointing to the ring again.

Macaque nods and turns away to plate the already done dumplings, moving to add the rest of the batch he wasn’t able to. He pushes the plate towards Xiaotian, offering the boy to take some if he’d like.

Xiaotian does, taking one and blowing on it before popping it into his mouth. He bounces about using his hand to fan the inside of his mouth, trying to cool down the food enough to swallow.

Macaque gives him a look of concern, helping him before pouting. “Baby, be careful, they’re still hot. Don’t burn yourself.” He scolded, watching as Xiaotian swallowed and nodded.

“Bàba! Are there any other scars you have? Liiike…” Xiaotian elongates the syllables as he eyes Macaque’s arms. One of the monkey’s sleeves was pulled up, bunched just above where the elbow bends. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary there, but Xiaotian’s eyes landed on a large gash that took much of the space inside Mac’s right forearm. “That one!” The boy exclaims, pointing to the scar.

Macaque followed where the boy pointed and eyed the scar. He squinted, trying to pull his memories out of his brain. “Got that from a knife during a fight that your dad started with a group of random demons. I got caught in the middle of it and one of them sliced down my arm.”

Xiaotian tilts his head, “What was the fight about?”

Macaque shrugs, popping a dumpling into his mouth. “Don’t remember, but knowing Wukong it was probably something dumb.”

Xiaotian hums and reaches for another dumpling, careful to ensure it was cool enough to chew this time. They fell into silence after that, the boy not able to see any more scars. The majority of them were covered up by the monkey’s clothes, littering his chest and abdomen like scratches in a tree trunk.

He wasn’t going to bring them up—not really liking the idea of showing his chest off to his kid—much of them being from his fight with Wukong among ones that were self-inflicted. They were all but healed now, barely showing past his black fur, but there were a few especially deep ones that grazed his skin like a badge. (Or a warning…) His shadows whispered harshly.

A warning. Macaque didn’t see them like that anymore. The deed had been done and his hands were washed clean of any other urges to get back at Wukong. The ginger didn’t even remember the scars he left on Macaque half the time, giving the ravenette the same shocked and guilt-mixed look every time he caught wind of the other’s chest and back.

More so for ever bringing Macaque to a point where he’d self-inflict, but those had been accidental. Random bouts of his lost control that led to his shadows festering and lashing out. Or moments where he had tried to use his lantern and let his emotions cloud his mind, leaving him open and vulnerable.

Or they were from the moment of Wukong’s capture, the moment of the mountain’s demise. Burns littered his abdomen and made his fur itchy to the touch. Those were his least favorite reminders, hating the way his fur would fall out in clumps sometimes or how it had turned from this milky white to an ash black. Those were the ones Wukong was especially guilty for, always murmuring small pleas for forgiveness, wanting to show how much he regretted leaving Macaque and the others.

Macaque didn’t usually let it bother him. He’d long forgiven Wukong for that, entirely blaming Heaven and nothing more. He hated the look of guilt on his mate’s face and he wasn’t prepared for whatever face his cub might make at the sight of them.

“Bàba?” Said cub’s voice startled Macaque, the monkey snapping back from his thoughts to see Xiaotian staring up at him. “The dumplings,”

Macaque blinked, jumping into action to quickly pull the rest of the finished dumplings out of the steamer. He plated them, pushing the steamer away and turning the stove off. The shadow then looks at Xiaotian who giggles, peeking over to check the dumplings over too. Macaque lets him, his own giggle escaping him before he takes a teapot to begin brewing some tea.

Xiaotian watches him move about, careful to stay away from the stove flame. His eyes trail up to Macaque’s face, looking over to the dimmed colorful tips of his ears to the magic freckles dusting his cheeks to the blinded milky white eye. That milky stare always made Xiaotian a bit uneasy, the kid wanting to see if Macaque really couldn’t see out of that eye anymore. Did it hurt? Could it move? Could he open the eye a bit wider or was it stuck half-lidded forever? These were the questions Xiaotian wanted so desperately to ask his bàba but he never knew how to bring them up.

The boy knew how protective of that side Macaque was, usually quick to guard that side only first before worrying about his left. He’d heard Wukong scold the shadow about that, saying it would be ineffective for him to do more damage to his eye but Mac always responded the same. The shadow didn’t care for that eye much, saying he’d prefer to damage it more than lose his only other good eye. Xiaotian never understood what the big deal was, it was just an eye. His bàba’s logic made sense if he thought hard enough about it though.

Xiaotian chirps to catch Macaque’s attention, the ravenette looking over at him and replying to him with his own series of chirps eyebrow raised. “Bàba…” Xiaotian starts, tone unsure as he continued, “What happened to your eye?”

Macaque’s tail flicks and his ears twitch, an unrecognizable emotion flashing across his face before it’s gone and replaced with a soft smile. The shadow chuckles lightly, reaching up to ruffle Xiaotian’s hair. “Nothing happened to my eye, silly. It’s perfectly fine, see?” He points to his left eye, showing his cub his eye with a flash of purple.

Xiaotian pouts and shakes his head, swatting Macaque’s hand away. “No, no! Your other eye, what happened to it?”

The look on Macaque’s face sours, whether from Xiaotian’s pushy tone or from the question the kid wasn’t sure, and the shadow looks away to turn the stove off. He takes the pot and places it on a tray along with some cups and the plate of dumplings before carrying it all to the dining room table. Xiaotian follows after his dad, a bit confused by the sudden shift in the shadow’s mood.

“Bàba?” Xiaotian questions, watching Macaque set the tray down on the table. He hums to prompt Xiaotian and the boy continues. “Are you going to–”

“Xiaotian,” Macaque interrupts him, “Why don’t you go get your dad for me, okay? We’ll talk later.”

“But, the question–”

“Please, Xiaotian.” Macaque pushes and the boy nods, running down the hall to the room where Wukong was napping. Mac sighs, running a hand down his face while he slides into his chair. His fingers graze over his right eye, his eyelid fluttering and he pulls away to clench his fists in his lap.

He knew the question was going to be brought up eventually. He knew Xiaotian would have gotten curious enough to finally ask. But that didn’t wash away the shame he felt when the boy brought it up. Macaque had been so hopeful that Xiaotian would never point it out, never acknowledge it, but that was just wishful thinking. He wasn’t mad about his son’s curiosity, he couldn’t ever be mad at his son for anything, but he wished Xiaotian hadn’t asked so soon. Or at all.

The shadow didn’t mind telling the cub about any other scar he wanted to know about—hell he’ll even bring some up instead—just anything but his eye. Despite all the months he spent with Guan Yin healing and the occasional visits he still went to, his eye was still a sore topic for him. He never fully healed from the experience, holding back so many memories in his head that he’d rather not get into with his ten-year-old son.

Said son comes back into view in the middle of excitedly telling a still half asleep Wukong what happened during school that day. Wukong was only half listening, nodding after every word to show that he could hear Xiaotian, but the ginger had been paying more attention to try not to fall asleep mid-walk.

Wukong perks up at the sight of Macaque sitting at the table with the tray, coming over to take his spot next to the shadow and nuzzling against the side of his head to let out a happy trill. Macaque returns the gesture, leaning into the ginger’s touch before taking his face in his hands and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

Xiaotian makes a noise of faux disgust, climbing into his chair across from his parents. His parents move away from each other and Mac holds a cup out to Wukong, the ginger taking it gently. Xiaotian watches his dad slowly wake up, Macaque talking slowly to help.

The boy trails his gaze back to Macaque’s eye and he’s reminded of his question and the strange look on his bàba’s face. He pondered asking it again to see if Mac would answer it with Wukong present but he swallowed that thought down, opting to ask Wukong later.

If the question made Macaque angry, Xiaotian knew better than to ask him again.

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

When bedtime rolled around Xiaotian made sure to ask Wukong to tuck him in instead of Macaque. The shadow didn’t see anything of it—Xiaotian had a habit of switching between his dads for bedtime—so he didn’t put up much of a fight. This meant that Xiaotian had to sacrifice tonight’s shadow play but that was fine, he bet whatever answer his dad gave him would be interesting enough to make up for it.

He crawled into his bed and wiggled himself under his covers to wait, his dolls clutched tightly against his chest. He reached over to turn his night light on but stopped when Wukong peeked in from behind the door, Xiaotian pulling his arm back under his blanket. The sudden appearance made him jump and he felt a little guilty for being so quick to retract his arm. He wasn’t hiding anything—not that he even could—but it still made unease sit in his stomach.

That unease just got heavier as Wukong came closer to tuck him in, patting his head the way he usually did every night and whispering a small good night. The ginger never asked if Xiaotian wanted a story told to him so the ginger never took as long as Macaque did, getting ready to rise back to his feet before Xiaotian chirped anxiously, grabbing hold of his sleeve.

“Wait, dad!” Xiaotian yelps, before clearing his throat and letting go at the sight of Wukong’s questioning look.

Wukong crouches back down to be level with the kid before tilting his head, “What’s up, peach?”

“I have a question…” Xiaotian starts but the rest of the sentence dies in his throat and he just stares at the ginger’s expectant look. The two blink at each other before Wukong is nodding, his weak attempt at prodding the boy to continue. Xiaotian opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally gets the words out, albeit nervously. “Do you, um, do you know what happened to bàba’s eye?”

Wukong startles back as if he was struck, tensing and then untensing as quickly. That same strange look Macaque had flashed across his face except this time Xiaotian could faintly recognize it as something akin to guilt before it was shaken off by Wukong. The ginger shakes his head, rising back on his feet to turn the kid’s night light on.

“Uh, sorry bud but that’s not my business to tell. You gotta ask him,” Wukong says, his tone sounding much sourer than he intended it to.

“I did though! But he didn’t answer so I thought…you would…” Xiaotian says lightly, moving to slowly duck under his blanket. He hid half his face, peeking up at Wukong with downturned eyebrows.

Wukong sighs, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth as he thought. “I could,” He starts, and Xiaotian perks up at that, “But I won’t. I’m sure Mac isn’t telling you for a reason.”

Xiaotian frowns at that, saddened by the implications of that. Did his bàba not trust him? Was it something really, really bad that Xiaotian can’t know? Were they in danger? He didn’t understand why his parents were keeping secrets from him. It wasn’t fair! He told them everything—or as much as he needed to, which was a lot—so why couldn’t they do the same?

“Is it because he doesn’t trust me?” Xiaotian asks quietly, catching Wukong off guard for the second time that night. The ginger crouches back down to the kid’s level, pushing his hair back reassuringly.

“Woah, no, not at all. He trusts you plenty, we both do.” The ginger gives Xiaotian a lop-sided grin that the cub doesn’t return. Wukong chooses to ignore that, opting to comb his claws through the boy’s hair slowly. “It’s just adult stuff, kiddo…”

“But if bàba’s in danger I wanna help!” Xiaotian exclaims, moving the blanket down to frown up at his dad.

“Don’t worry, no one's in danger.” Wukong says before pulling away and standing again, “Just get some sleep, okay?”

“But–”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” And the ginger is out of sight, closing the door behind him and leaving Xiaotian in the dim light of his room. The boy stares at the door for a moment, ears twitching as he tries to focus. He knew he shouldn’t but he wasn’t satisfied with either answer his dads gave him. He knew there was no talking in the morning—or later—those being his parents’ attempts at shutting him up.

He strained a bit, closing his eyes to focus better and only picking up a few words.

“What…he ask?” Said what Xiaotian presumed was Macaque’s voice.

“About…eye…didn’t tell…anything…” Said what Xiaotian presumed was Wukong’s voice.

He figured they had their door closed to muffle the noise and Xiaotian opened his eyes, slowly sitting up in his bed to creep his way near his door to press two ears against it. He wanted to know what the big deal was and if he wasn’t going to get it the nice and easy way, he'd get it the bad and hard way.

The voices were a bit louder next to the door—the perks of having his room be right next to theirs—and just a tad bit clearer. Now he just had to be quiet or he’d risk getting caught, the boy shuddering at the thought of what might happen if he got caught eavesdropping.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” He could hear Wukong ask over the sound of rustling.

“I don’t want to–” Macaque hisses before saying something else Xiaotian couldn’t pick up, his tail moving anxiously behind him.

“I doubt he’d think…” More chunks of words Xiaotian couldn’t make out and he frowned as Wukong kept talking. “Just tone it down or something? Or make something up?”

(They were going to lie to him? Just like that? Have they always been lying to him?

Was it that easy?)

Xiaotian frowned, moving away from the door to stare at it. He didn’t want to hear anymore, not caring about what the answer was if they were just going to lie to him. It wasn’t worth asking if he wasn’t going to get the full truth or the full details. Sure he was only a kid but he could handle whatever it was! They didn’t need to lie to him, especially when they were the ones to tell him lying was bad in the first place.

That just seemed…what was the word again? Hippo– Hype– Hypocritical? (He wasn’t sure what that word meant but he heard Uncle Nezha use it to describe Wukong once.) And he was sure that wasn’t what they wanted to be.

Xiaotian huffs and starts making his way back to his bed before he hears the door open, stopping in his tracks before bolting for his bed at the sound of footsteps. He scrambled to get under the covers before his door opened, his head ducked under the blanket and faced away. Whoever opened his door stepped inside the room slowly—hesitantly—and stopped next to him.

“Xiaotian?” Oh. It was Macaque. That didn’t ease Xiaotian’s racing heart though and he tried to calm down, almost certain his bàba could hear him. There was a beat of silence and almost as if to confirm his worries his blanket was being yanked off his head. Eyes wide and staring at Macaque’s narrowed gaze, Xiaotian notes that the other’s scar isn’t present, hidden behind a thin veil of glamour.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? What were you doing?” Macaque asks, hand holding the blanket away from Xiaotian’s grasp.

“Um… Nothing?” Xiaotian supplies lamely and Macaque just rolls his eyes, a small smile falling against his lips.

“Well, finish up your ‘nothing’ and go to sleep, okay? You have school in the morning.” Macaque leans down to place a small kiss to Xiaotian’s forehead as the kid nods and the shadow is standing up again, ruffling the kid’s hair before heading back to the door. “Oh and Xiaotian?”

“Yeah, bàba?"

Macaque opens the door, turning to give Xiaotian a pointed look, “Next time you try eavesdropping on me and your dad, make sure you watch how loud your heart beat is. I can still hear you.”

“R-right! Sorry, bàba…” Xiaotian chirps, hiding back under his blanket.

Macaque softens, shaking his head, “Goodnight, starlight,” He says instead, leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Xiaotian frowns as soon as he leaves, turning to lay facing away from the door. Stupid heartbeat and stupid question and stupid Maca–He shakes his head to stop that thought where it is. He wasn’t mad at his bàba, or his dad, even if he wanted to be. (And trust him, he really, really, really wanted to be.) But he was partially to blame too, for being nosy.

He lifts the Macaque doll up to look at its face, eyes squinting to see the sewn scar across the doll’s right eye. If they really didn’t want him to know why did Macaque include it in most things made about him? That seemed a bit stupid…

Xiaotian runs a finger lightly down the doll’s face before holding it back against his chest with his Wukong one and closing his eyes. No use dwelling on that anymore, he has the whole next day to. He’ll just try to fall asleep and see what his dads decide to tell him in the morning, a small part of him hoping they just ignore the question.

It takes a while but he ends up falling asleep soon enough, his mind drifting back to the sight of Macaque looming over him with his scar hidden with magic. And, in his sleepy stupor, he realizes that was the first time he’s ever seen his bàba use his glamour to hide in their own home.

A realization that just makes him uneasy again.

[sortafriendly]

Chapter 1

CW: Mentions of Violence Summary: After infiltrating the Nobushi and Treasure Hoarder’s ranks without back-up from any governing bodies with authority, [Y/N] ends up in jail with the lot of them thanks to a raid on their main base by the Tenryou Commission. Luckily for you, your peculiar circumstances caught the eye of a certain plucky, yet well-respected Doushin.

A dull, throbbing pain pulsated through your head as you began to slowly push yourself up off of the hard, wooden floor. Where are you, and how had you gotten here? As you regained consciousness and observed your surroundings, you would become keenly aware of where you and your associates were currently being held. The Tenryou Commission’s holding cells in the police station. Great. Just great. You thought to yourself as you gathered your bearings. Unlucky for you, however, moments after you regained consciousness a few lower ranked officers would make their way into your cell, dragging you to one of the many interrogation rooms two floors up. After being haphazardly tossed into the room, you were once again left to your own devices. In what one could only assume would be a brief moment of reprieve, you took the time to search your person, letting out a sigh of relief when your hand was met with the pulsating sensation of your vision. The warmth your pyro vision emitted was enough to bring life back to your, uncharacteristically, pale face. It was a welcomed sensation, especially in your current circumstance.

Thinking back on it, the whole ordeal that landed you in your present predicament was… fuzzy. As you wracked your brain for the answers, you would begin to pace on the opposite side of the room, eyes focused on the ground. Ah, that’s right, it’s all coming back to you now! Although some of the details are still missing, you recall that after returning to the main hideout your treasure hoarder and nobushi “pals” called home from your latest scouting mission, one of the rather crude - but oddly efficient - alarm systems went off. It was a raid! Even so, you don’t remember the details of when you were arrested. One moment you were sitting next to a fire roasting some fish, and the next you were waking up here in a holding cell. Wait a minute, a raid? When had the Tenryou Commission taken the time to follow any of your leads? Surely, you would have noticed if someone had been following you right? Maybe… maybe you didn’t? While yes it’s been your goal for the last several months to leave enough of a trail for someone with authority to lead a raid on the main base, you were hoping you’d at least be out on an assignment or something when it happened so you didn’t get wrapped up in all of this mess!! A scowl crossed your pursed lips as you stopped in your tracks. Ugh. Just great. Now you’d probably be sent to prison for Archons know how long and potentially miss out on– “My my, you’re rather lost in thought there aren't cha~? I wonder how long it’s going to take you to notice I’m even here~.” A mischievous voice spoke up from the other side of the interrogation room, pulling you out of your own thoughts. When did he get here? How long had he been sitting there watching you pace? Across the room sat none other than the Doushin Shikanoin, a highly renown detective who worked with the Tenryou Commission. When your eyes finally met with his, you would notice the rather smug smirk on his face, which elicited a somewhat subtle eye roll from you. This was not the person you thought you’d be dealing with, especially after only having been awake for– How long had you been awake? Not more than twenty minutes at this point right? As you got distracted with your own thoughts again, a curt cough was heard from the detective, drawing your attention back to him once again. 

“Man alive, I think you’re the first suspect I’ve had to actively get the attention of. Don’t tell me I’m rusty or something! That would only add insult to injury at this point.” Heizou’s shoulders slumped as he leaned forward onto the wooden table that sat in the center of the interrogation room, his chin resting on one of his hands while his eyes wandered up and down your figure inquisitively. Feeling his unnerving gaze on you, your body would press itself against the wall you stood closest to.

“Awe c’mon~” he said with a light laugh, his smirk only widening as the moments passed “I don’t bite! Come! Join me and sit! Truly, how are we to have any worthwhile conversation when you’re holed up in the corner over there!?”

Although you were weary, you made your way to the table and sat across from the rather jovial detective. Surely he had to be up to something, no? Anybody who was anyone knew the name Shikanoin Heizou and what he was capable of! In fact, he was the reason recruiting was so difficult these last few months! Nobody wants to get caught up in a case under the eye of Doushin Shikanoin, and yet here you were, one of the now many unlucky sods tied up by him. 

“So why don’t we start with introductions? I’m sure you’re aware that I’m-” “Doushin Shikanoin. Yes, I know who you are. Everyone here does.” You hadn’t meant any disrespect by interrupting him, it’s just at this point you’d rather get the pleasantries out of the way. “Man alive, you just had to steal my thunder, didn’t you, Y/N?” Eh? How did he know your name? For a moment you thought back on the brief conversation you’ve had thus far and… Nope! You definitely hadn’t said your name in that time! “Hehehe~ The look of panic on your face is enough for me to forgive you for stealing my line a moment ago.” His cheeky grin made your blood boil just a little. Were all detectives as borderline unprofessional as him? Before you were given a moment to retreat into your own thoughts again, Heizou would produce a familiar, leather-bound journal from underneath the table. One could assume he had been hiding it there until you had come to sit down with him. Not daring to make any sudden movements, you watched as the detective began to leaf through the journal, his olive eyes scanning each page thoroughly and efficiently.

“Y’know Y/N, there’s enough evidence in this little journal of yours to put you and your associates behind bars for at least 20 years. Grand larceny, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, disturbing the peace, distribution of stolen goods… Dare I go on? Tell me, what possessed you to keep something so glaringly incriminating on your person? It’s almost like you wanted to get caught or something.” He peeked around the book to watch your expression, any shift in your mood would be telling to the detective, and with that in mind- Oh who are you kidding? Keeping a cool head after hearing you were going to be sentenced to a minimum of 20 years?! It almost didn’t seem real. Even so, while tears began to pour down your face as you were faced with the prospect of spending the rest of your early life in prison, a shaky smile spread like a wildfire across your lips. It didn’t matter if you were going down too, you finally succeeded in your goal. You took down one of the big three branches of treasure hoarders and nobushi in Inazuma. Whilst you were once again wrapped up in your own mind, Heizou’s gaze softened, his eyes sparkling ever so slightly with curiosity and intrigue. His intuition had been correct it seemed, and now that he had confirmed the suspicions he had about you, he would quietly exit the interrogation room while you were preoccupied. Not only was he not going to get an answer out of you at the moment, there was also something he needed to get done, and fast.

When you’re not aware of the passage of time, it seems to creep by at an eerily slow and concerningly fast rate, and by the time you had quelled your inner turmoil, Heizou was gone. Wiping your face clean of tears, you sighed softly and took the alone time to gather yourself again. Your eyes flickered around the interrogation room lazily, absorbing every last detail about it, knowing each breath you took was getting closer to the last one you’d take as a free person. Eventually, your gaze would land on the table you were sitting at for an undisclosed amount of time. There was a glass of water, some honey lavender melon, and bread. Where had this come from? 

Not thinking too deeply into it, you reached out and took the glass, holding it to your lips to greedily drink its contents. After drinking over half, you set it back down and let out a sigh of relief. Crying always leaves you feeling sticky and dehydrated, regardless of how much or little you did. With nothing better to do, you would also indulge on the food that had been provided to you. When there was nothing left, you finished off the rest of the water and sighed, content that this could be your last meal as a free citizen. Despite wanting to cherish these fleeting moments of freedom, you crossed your arms and laid them on the table, resting your head atop them. A little nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

When you were finally awoken some hours later, it was by one of the guards who had initially escorted you to this room to begin with. He seemed rather irritated, probably due to the fact you were out like a light until his rather gruff voice penetrated its way into your dreams and roused you from your slumber. After securing your wrists with cuffs, the guard would begin to lug you back down to the holding cells. Just as he was about to bring you down the first flight of stairs, a familiar and rather annoyed voice called out, making the guard halt in his tracks. “Officer Nakamura! Unhand them this instant!” Heizou shouted, jogging up to you and the officer. Finally in front of you two, he put his hands on his hips and let out an irritated sigh. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m bringing them back down to the holding cells?” Nakamura replied quizzically. Was this a test? Surely it wasn’t, right? “Gah, man alive, you’d think someone would have given you the memo.” “The memo? I’m afraid I’m not following, Doushin Shikanoin...” Heizou didn’t hesitate to pull you free from Nakamura’s grasp, and after removing the restraints on your wrists, he would hook an arm around your neck, pressing the two of you together while a sneaky smile spread across his face. “Well Nakamura, Y/N here is actually my partner, and they’ve been acting as a double agent for the Tenryou Commission. Thanks to all the commotion stirred by madam Kujou Sara, our little birdie here couldn’t escape to the extraction point during the raid~! Really was a shame we had to get them back this way, though I guess it did benefit their cover to be arrested with them~. Just adds to their credibility at this point.” As Nakamura began to profusely apologize to you for mistaking you as one of the apprehended criminals, you turned your attention to the detective who was currently leaning against you. Feeling your eyes on him, Heizou turned to meet your gaze and winked at you, his grin only widening. What have you gotten yourself into?

Update Tags: @eraelia-alberich

Author's notes: Thank you for reading chapter one! I'll be honest, since this is my first fanfic I'm a little anxious about posting it out into the ethernet! That being said, I'll never learn if I don't, right? If you'd like to be tagged for future updates please feel free to ask me! If you'd like to follow the developments of the story, the first tag on each chapter will directly link you to all of the posts made about this story! Reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you again and have a wonderful day!

[breelandwalker]

THE FINAL UPDATE:

Y'all know that feeling when you get onto a rollercoaster and you think you're ready and you're all braced for shit, and then you just get thrown around and windwhipped to hell and back and you scream your head off, and then suddenly the ride is over and you're sitting at the depot like tf just happened.

That's kind of how the last stretch of missions went.

With as few spoilers as possible, highlights include:

closure and reconciliation for Wyll and his dad (YES. ULDER. YOUR SON IS A GODDAMN HERO. SHOW SOME RESPECT.)

meeting Voss' dragon pal

finally beating the shit out of Gortash (good GODS if ever a man needed his entire ass kicked up and down the entirety of the Sword Coast TWICE)

sobbing my entire heart out over the ensuing conversation with Karlach (my sweet bestie, the narrative did you so dirty, you deserve the fucking world 😭)

classic puzzle-solving dungeon crawl under Wyrm's Rock with a rotating crew bc different things need different skillsets and maybe i wanted to pretend the whole gang was there don't judge me (but we are judging the SHIT out of Astarion for apparently being a REAL asshole in his previous career, you sure your last name is Ancunin and not Turpin? no more gavel for you)

DRAGON DRAGON DRAGO-....oh. that's gonna complicate things.

WAIT NEVERMIND

....i'm sorry, the Emperor is WHOMST??????

welp.

props to Wyll for coming into his own and also Blade of Avernus sounds way more badass than Blade of Frontiers (also I see you and Karlach vibing back there, don't think we didn't notice 😏)

So then there was nothing left to do but one last supply run, one last round of hugs and kisses in camp, and then off to fight the big brain. (For those wanting to know, my final fight team was Karlach, Astarion, and Shadowheart.) We got thrashed for a bit, then it was into the prism to regroup. We did choose to free Orpheus, which didn't go over well with Tall, Dark, and Squidly.

From there, we portaled back to the Gate for one last rally, walked into the High Hall like Aragorn returning to Edoras, and....wow, I had no idea we had so many allies. Like I knew we'd helped a lot of people but DAMN. The entire room was full!

AND MY BABY OWLBEAR WAS ALL GROWN UP AND ARMORED! Omg my sweet floofy boy, all ready to rip and tear. Mama's so proud! Also SO much tiefling solidarity. All my peeps from Arabella to Zevlor turned up and I know it's game canon but my girl couldn't help having a moment of I Think I Have Done A Good For My People Here.

Then it was all a blur of stairs and fighting and dodging artillery and calling on allies and okay can we BREATHE for five seconds? Angelic Reprieve, Hero's Feast, and....here we fuckin go.

The last fight is BRUTAL. Even in Explorer, it pulls no punches and it took me a few tries. But in the end, WE WON. The big brain went squish, the floating mind palace fell into the river, and we all washed up like half-drowned rats to find a whole lot of dead mindflayers and a city that is once more safe...for now.

The Aftermath: (Spoilers for endgame)

Orpheus asked for an honorable death and bequeathed his dragons and his mission to Lae'zel, who promptly took off for the Astral Sea to liberate her people. Cue my tiefling waving goodbye like, you're still an insufferable cunt, but I respect you.

Gale decided to be a bit of a dick about the crown and sort of just...walked away to become a god. (And then was even MORE of a dick at the reunion party later.) So much for that. Guess my tiefling made the right choice after all.

With the tadpoles out of commission, Astarion became allergic to the sun again and had to SCAMPER away from the docks before he burned up. We'll catch up with him later.

Karlach's engine finally gave out and as she was starting to burn, Wyll stepped in and offered to escort her back to Avernus to save her life, promising he'd keep her safe from Zariel. Then we got a nice little cutscene of the two of them preparing to kick INFERNAL amounts of ass together. (I SHIP IT SO HARD. LARIEN YOU COWARDS, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN AMAZING DLC.)

Once everything calmed down and the remaining party members retreated to the Elfsong for some heavy drink and a good night's sleep, we got our romantic epilogue. And of COURSE, my tiefling is staying with her bitchy feral tomcat of a vampire, who is SO much happier now, and they'll be setting out on a quest to find him a way to walk in the sun again. And is it a coincidence that the Til Death Do Us Part ring is on her finger? No it is not. 🥰

Six months later, we catch up with everyone at the reunion party, learn some fun new developments (AGAIN, MISSED OPPORTUNITIES FOR DLC), read some grateful letters from the people we helped, and rest on our laurels for the time being.

Bit of a shame we have to wait until the party to find out how things went for Halsin, but as predicted, Papa Bear (DADDY HALSIN gfdi devs you did that on purpose) has built a refuge in Reithwin for anyone who needs a place to go and is raising several dozen orphaned children as a single dad. And yes, he will be seeing his tiefling honey there very soon to help with storytime. Among other things. 😏

So that's the end! We saved the world, we saved everyone we could possibly save, the whole party made it out alive and they lived happily ever after. What a glow-up it's been. My tiefling started out with nothing, just a broke homeless druid from the Gate, and wound up becoming a hero, saving the realm, making some amazing friends, elevating her people, and finding love not once, but twice.

Fabulous game, 100/10, will play again and again and again. Feel free to drop questions in my inbox if you have them.

Until next time!

Tfw you're nearing the end of Act II in your BG3 run and you realize you've fallen into the exact trap you said you were going to avoid FROM THE BEGINNING.

The devs knew exactly what they were doing, didn't they.