#i hope it's okay !!!!

[the-black-lake]

@kathaynesart

The lake is afraid of water that does not belong to it. That water carries the unknown. It carries experiences and histories that the lake cannot predict or control.

For a moment, the lake doesn't seem so dark. New water dilutes it. New water adds shades to its blackness.

After all, these changes were necessary.

The lake will be grumpy for a while, but it is grateful.

[applepie-enthusiast]

SaneSabiGiyuu AU where

the three of them just defeated an upper moon, but the one who took the most damage was giyuu. because he protected both of them. so, giyuu is unconscious and resting. he was okay but he's extremely exhausted, all of them were. but at least, sanemi and sabito were conscious.

they couldn't take giyuu back to shinobu because the storm caught up to them and rain was pouring hard. they took shelter in an abandoned udon stall.

giyuu's head resting on sabito's shoulders as the latter supports him with one hand on top of his mop of black hair and the other carefully wrapped around giyuu's waist

silence engulfed both sanemi and sabito, with only the sound of the heavy rain and giyuu's soft breathing heard between them

"it's your fault, you know." sanemi started, his exhausted voice retaining the venom he intended to make known to the other. "tomioka was so engrossed with saving your pathetic ass."

sabito briefly glanced at sanemi, sighing exasperatedly, "did you manage to hit your head at that last fight? you seem to have forgotten he saved your petty ass too"

sanemi gritted his teeth, moving his knuckles as if he wanted it to collide with sabito's face, but stopped when he saw giyuu shifts slightly closer to sabito, as if longing for more warmth. sabito returned the favor by hugging giyuu closer, resting his chin on top of giyuu's head and placing a soft kiss on giyuu's forehead.

sanemi looked away, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he hit his fist on the poor, worn out wooden seat beside him. "he didn't have to do that..."

"agreed," sabito paused, breathing in and out slowly, "but he's stubborn like that. he doesn't want to lose anyone else after his sister... So he wants to keep us both safe."

"tch, we're stronger than him, when will he realize that?" this time, sanemi said it in a manner missing its expected sharpness.

sabito chuckles bitterly, shutting his eyes as he hugged giyuu protectively. "I don't know... but maybe it's up to us to protect him next time."

sanemi finally gazed at giyuu's sleeping form only once more, "you don't have to tell me." his stern look slowly relaxing to a fond one.

sabito snorted this time, cracking one eye open as he smiled at the other. "never knew you could be soft. i better tell giyuu about it when he wakes up."

"try and you're toasted."

"try me." sabito grinned, "also, your ears are red. giyuu told me when you lie, your ears turn red."

"no, it doesn't." sanemi subtly covered his ear, "and shut the fuck up. i know about how much of a loud drunk you are. I'll tell tomioka if you snitch on me, bitch."

sabito laughs softly, "i think he knew both of that information already, and he still—"

"—he still loves us, yeah." sanemi continued for sabito and reached out in an effort to wipe the thin dried blood off giyuu's lips, guilt present in his face at the sight of the one he loved most wounded.

"I'll kill for him, you know." sanemi retorted, to which sabito closed both of his eyes too.

"I will, too. It doesn't make you special."

sanemi grits his teeth and glares at sabito, "hey, your clothes are soaked too, let him rest on me now!"

"shhh, you're noisy, you'll wake him up..." sabito whispered mockingly, and sanemi fought the urge to punch that smirk off the other's lips.

"five more minutes." Sabito started, but sanemi mouths, "fuck you."

they continued to banter, completely oblivious at the tiny, yet fond smile giyuu had for himself.

[cosmossoleil]

Prompt: Snow - @jegulus-microfic - Word count: 305 - Jegulus dads <3

Regulus shrieks when he feels something wet, and freezing being shoved down the back of his coat and under his shirt. He reaches his arms towards his back to lift the jacket and shirt to get the remaining snow out of it.

When he hears high pitched giggles, he whips around and glares at the culprit, or culprits to be exact. His traitorous heart stutters and skips a few beats at the man who is standing behind him with a sheepish smile as the small carbon copy of his husband that he holds in his arms giggles with delight, it’s not fair really.

How Is Regulus supposed to be angry when Harry is laughing like that? His laugh resembled the soft jingle of bells in the air.

“We got you! We got you papa!” he shouts happily.

“Yes. yes you did, mon cœur.” He says before reaching down and gathering some snow in his own gloved hands. “now it’s your turn.” He says with a evil grin.

Harry lets out his own shrieks of laughter before struggling to get out of James’s arms, quickly being set down and running as fast as he can as his little boots and coat weighing him down can carry him in the backyard.

Before Regulus could go after him, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and feels a warm kiss pressing against his forehead. “Sorry about that, love. He saw Sirius do that to Peter and wanted to try that himself.” James explains.

Ah. So, Sirius was to blame; he’ll remember that for later.

“it’s alright, his smile and laugh are worth wearing a shirt that’s a bit wet for a while.” Regulus says with a smile as he leans in his husband’s touch for a moment.

“Daddy! Papa! Come and catch me!”

It was definitely worth it.

[little-pup-pip]

Can you make a gothic Christmas agere moodboard pretty please

For sure!!

[aeligsido]

[WM] Prompt 1 — Western.

Rating: G.

Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Orion Black, Walburga Black, Regulus Black, James Potter.

Additional Tags: flirting, first meeting, bartender Remus, rich Sirius.

Summary: Sirius is traveling with his family, and meets a cute bartender.

Words count: 646.

A/N: Disclaimer that my only knowledge of western is from Lucky Luke and I haven’t read the comics in ages. Also it’s my first time writing these characters kzjsjs. Hope you like it ❤️

@wolfstarmicrofic

—

When she steps out of the stagecoach, Mother is less than impressed by what she discovers; Sirius can tell by the turn of her lips and the uplifting of her chin. He steps out right after her, and immediately understands what rebutted her.

The town — if it can even be called one — is small, just emerging from the ground and the arrivals of new settlers. There’s maybe five houses, one of which doubles as the sheriff’s office, what seems to be a half-empty store, and a saloon. There have been a few farms on the way here, and there’s more foundations for further establishments down the main and only road, but for now it looks properly desolate, so unlike the big city they come from.

Father is talking with the driver already, and Regulus appears behind Sirius’ shoulder. He wrinkles his nose in confusion at the state of the town, looking over at him with a question in his eyes; Sirius shrugs. It’s his first time out in the Wild Wide West as well, after all — Father never brought any of them along before.

“Come on,” Father says, back from his discussion. “The saloon is also an inn. We will get rooms here.”

He leads the way, and they follow as always. Regulus is walking so close to Sirius that they almost trip over each other, but he doesn't have the heart to berate his brother when he looks so anxious at his surroundings. The inn is surprisingly empty, save for two people at the bar; one of them, with wide glasses and wild hair, is talking animatedly, while the other, half-hunched over the counter and attention all on his compagnon, is quietly listening. He stands up when they enter, though, and greets them with a polite smile.

“Welcome! What can I get you?”

Up close, the polite smile is paired with dark blond curls and brown eyes, and freckles dusted at the top of his cheeks and nose.

“How many rooms do you have?” asks Father, his hand already hovering over his coin pouch.

The bartender hesitates only an instant. “Two with double beds. How long will you stay?”

“Three days.” They hash out a few more details, and Sirius loses interest; he catches the eyes of the man at the bar beside them, who raises his untouched glass toward him with a wink. Mother is already steering Regulus away, as if being in the presence of alcohol will be enough to corrupt him forever.

“Take the keys, Sirius.”

He obeys, hand reaching out to the bartender; he is pretty cute, in a gentle kind of way. Sirius may be looking a bit too intently, because the man in front of him gets suddenly flustered. Adorable.

Sirius checks; his father has joined Mother and Regulus near the stairs, and his parents are too busy having a silent argument to put much attention on him. And he does have three days to occupy.

They keys drop in his hand, one after the other, the bartender’s fingers just brushing against his palm. Sirius leans on the counter, grin on his lips and eyebrows raised just slightly.

“And which one is yours?”

The man's cheeks turn pink. He clears his throat, sending a look toward the only other customer — who seems suddenly fascinated by his whiskey — before giving his attention back to Sirius. He’s biting the corner of his bottom lip in an anxious, unconscious action, eyes contemplating, and Sirius stares.

“You should go back,” he finally says, and the disappointment settles on Sirius’ shoulders.

He straightens up; but then, the bartender blurts out, words fast and clutched together, “First door on the right after the stairs.” He looks so taken aback by his own words, Sirius’ grin softens into a smile.

“Well then, I'll see you tonight.”

“Remus.”

“Remus.” Sirius winks, and goes back to his family.

[artymcart]

Prologue

God is dead. Literally.

But what was the price?

While Castiel griefs a son, while Dean drinks himself to sleep and nearly to death, Sam tries to find a way to get rid of Eileen and while she tries to find a way to slither into the small cracks she can find, Heaven and Hell have a talk in the Bunker.

Decisions have to be made, sacrifices too.

But how far will they go, our heroes? What are they able to give for the greater good?

Welcome to The End!

Or in this case, how it began.

.

Artist Note: Welcome guys to the Prologue!

I'm really excited about this, since it's something I always wanted to do but was so far gone in the EndverseAU that I wasn't able to go THIS far back in the story. I hope you enjoy the early parts of this adventure . It's definitely an exciting thing to go back to a more canon version of the characters but still making them to what they are now haha!

So, let Suptober23 begin!

EndverseAU Masterpost

[softquietsteadylove]

I just had an evil idea. What if one day Gilgamesh finally had to make good on his promise to kill Thena if the Mahd Wy'ry ever took over her completely? Maybe he deals with it alone or one of the others finds him, up to you. I know you're good with angst so this should be painful

Gil's chest constricted. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He just stared, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. "No...n-no, I-"

The Deviant--the demonic entity facing him dropped its shield onto the jungle floor. Its vines had reached around the Strongest Eternal and retrieved something to serve as a defense. It was a wall of flesh, used only to absorb the shock of a punch.

The body rolled and tumbled, limbs dead weight, blonde hair falling lightly in comparison. Her eyes were still open, and the white colour that had been fogging them cleared to reveal their usual green. It was dark, and they no longer held their shine. The Warrior Eternal was dead.

Gilgamesh's chest puffed as he tried to breathe. He couldn't. What he was seeing didn't make any sense to him. The face of Thena, his lifelong partner, was staring up at him. But it wasn't her. It didn't look like her. His powers dissipated, sparks of gold disappearing into the still and heavy air, a minimal light in the growing dark.

"That is truly a shame," the devil lamented. "Her powers would have been one of the most useful to me."

Gil couldn't understand the words it was saying either. He knelt--fell to his knees. He reached slowly, delicate as he grasped the shoulder of the woman he loved. "Thena?"

She had no response. Her body was heavy as he lifted her into his embrace. He had snapped her spine, destroyed it in a way even an Eternal wouldn't survive. Maybe it was the most merciful way, with Mahd Wy'ry clouding her mind and that thing holding her, maybe she hadn't known it was he who had landed the killing blow.

He didn't know if it was better if that thing was the last she had seen, or if it would have been better for her to see him, only for him to end her life the way he had. As violent as the nature of their powers were, he never wanted to turn that force unto her. Even in all his years thwarting the attacks of her episodes, he always did his best to protect her and himself.

"Oh, Thena," Gilgamesh whimpered. His breath still came sparingly, his throat constricted far too tight. He cradled her head against his chest, the way he would if she were merely having a terrible dream. He ran his fingers through her hair as he watched the golden lines of her energy pull away from her skin, leaving the grey remains of the physical body.

Gold glittered the air again as the Warrior Eternal's life left her in the last way possible. Their own took cautious and unbelieving steps towards them.

"Gil!"

He felt the vines of that thing at his back. Horrific appendages made to do worse than end life: made to steal it. He set Thena down gently, unwilling to cause her any more unrest.

The trees quivered as he turned, roaring out the energy building up in his body. Rage and grief coursed through him as he turned and grabbed the creature. His hands were more than capable of crushing through its flesh, no matter what being of natural make or nightmare of the stars. He ripped its arms from its body.

Gilgamesh arched his hands up. He watched the shadow of his sledgehammer fists stretch over the beast's face before he brought them down. The forest blew back from the impact, even more than the last time he'd landed a punch like this. And he kept going.

Every hit, every strike, every scream he let out of his lungs for a loss of what else to do, that thing would suffer. He would make something incapable of death experience the loneliness of pain. He would make it understand what it meant to be alone--what it meant to fear.

The ground impacted from his strength. He continued. He swung his fists, the air bending around him, compressing and bursting, gold streaking through the dusk as he swung at it like an animal fighting for its life.

The thing was dead. He didn't care. He wanted it to be no more. He wanted to beat it down so small that it disappeared into the wind or bled into the core of the earth. His strength would prove that it was still good for something. Now that he had failed to protect his greatest love, he would enact the greatest punishment he could.

"Gil, stop it!"

They were calling him, but he couldn't hear them. He couldn't understand what they were saying. He kept seeing Thena's lifeless face, the feeling of her Cosmic Energy fading into nothing. Now that there was no more Thena, he didn't even feel like he was on Earth anymore. There was nothing to center and anchor him. He felt as if all of his senses had been shut off and there was only pain remaining.

He had never been without Thena's energy to match the rhythm of his, not in all their millennia together. And now, all the air in his lungs was gone, his blood was no longer flowing because his heart was empty and void. He was afloat, trying to follow what remained of Thena in pure stardust.

Gilgamesh roared one last time as he tore the thing apart. What was once its body cavity was forced open with his fingers like an agate, revealing its jagged insides. Its arms were strewn and its head simply was no more. And yet still looking at it only made him want to do more.

"That's enough," his brothers attempted to pull him away, out of the crater he had created.

He turned away, throwing them off of him. He walked back to Thena, laid where he had left her. Her sisters were leaning over her precious body, but he waved them away.

He picked her up again, cradling her head and her poor, broken back. He held her delicate shoulders, which used to curl into him, seeking his warmth. His fingers slid into the depths of her thick blonde hair. She already felt cold.

His tears fell onto her. Once her hand would wipe them away, but now it lay limp beside her. He rocked them back and forth, his body now unsteady without anything real at all for connection. He pressed his cheek to her hair, "my Thena."

He could hear their family moving behind him. They were building a fire, to release her body, to follow her Cosmic Energy back to the stars and their home. But he held her tighter.

You may have to kill her; that was what they once said. And he had said that was a chance he was willing to take. Because he would take any chance in the world to be with his Thena even one more day. And for beings without natural death, he didn't take it lightly.

But this wasn't right. He didn't want to build her a funeral pyre. He didn't want his eyes to watch a fire consume the life of a woman whose every second and minute and hour he would weave into a beautiful tapestry of if he could.

They should have been home. They would have been in Australia, at the home they had built together. He would bury her in the warm, red sands, under the tree she liked. Life without her would be pain but at least he could continue his mission.

His mission was never to protect earth. It wasn't to kill Deviants or serve some far away god. His mission was to protect Thena. It was to love and cherish the woman who had been by his side from the moment he opened his eyes. And he would have spent the rest of Eternity protecting her, until Earth ripped itself in half to mercifully swallow him up into oblivion.

They expected him to give her up. But this was the woman he loved. He held the body of his wife, as preciously as he would on any day, or any night.

Thena had once said that she didn't want to be the one to kill him. She had begged him to kill her first. He had never agreed, because he didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't think he was capable either. He didn't want to endure the pain of living without her, something surely even his strength couldn't weather.

"I kept my promise," he whispered against her forehead, pressing a kiss to it. What a terrible promise it was. He had taken the chance, but to live with it was something harder.

"Gil," Sersi's soft whisper reached him, her hand on his arm.

"Just wait for me, sweetheart," he cooed to his ever-sleeping wife. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and under her knees, picking her up for the last time. The pyre was ready. Even if it was already lit, he would lean into the fire gently, just to lie her to sleep the way she liked. "I'll come and find you."

[hajihiko]

have you posted that tokomaru from the commission post before? it's gorgeous but i can't seem to find it anywhere

no actually but I will. Now. I think it's okay

[vii-doodles]

My part for the DTIYS by @/aroxarts on insta

Detail shit under the cut

Heart eyes aka I imagine him look at Jan like that hehehe

[musicallyiinclined]

@erstwhles | mason & callum - feelings

"Hell of a third period, boys! Now that was a sixty-minute game." Mason glances up as the coach praises them, pausing in the middle of shoving gear into his bag to listen. "That's what I like to see, so keep it up! Now go home and rest, and be ready for the next one on Friday."

They're left alone to finish dressing after that, the guys talking amongst themselves, reliving the game they'd just won. "Lucky shot on your goal tonight, eh Ghost? You almost looked like a real hockey player out there!" The guy who spoke grins at him, and they all laugh as Mason flips him off in return. "Thought your boy was going to kiss you right there in the middle of the ice, too! What a celly that would've been."

There's another round of laughs, and Mason is grinning as he catches Callum's eye, giving him a playful wink. "What's the matter, Johnny, you jealous?" he asks his teammate, pushing up from his stall and swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Because I don't think Cal would mind sharing.." It's his turn to laugh as Johnny stutters his reply, and he stops by Callum's stall on his way out. "You still owe me a beer, by the way," he says, nudging his friend's foot. "You wanna pay up tonight or some other time?"

[libroseitm]

Here's what I sent to Apple and Amazon, if anyone needs some inspo or is just interested :)

Hello, I am one of many fans of hit queer show "Our Flag Means Death".

OFMD was recently cancelled by HBOMax despite being a roaring success. It boasts a 94% rating on rotten tomatoes, 7.8 rating on IMDb, recieved "outstanding" attention in 34 countries and at it's peak, reached the 11th most in-demand series worldwide. Source: parroanalytics.com

It also has a dedicated fanbase worldwide. As a part of our campaign to get OFMD it's 3rd series and beyond, we raised $10,000 in 45 minutes for ads including a billboard in time square, our petition has 73k+ signatures and when fans were asked to colour and draw for the cause, 750 artistic pieces were made in under a week.

We would be honored if you would consider having Our Flag Means Death on your platform.

Warm wishes to the person reading,

[name]

[kalevalakryze]

"I felt like... Nothing; just... shadows in the starlight." "For Mandalore!"

Mandalorian 3x08: The Return Ahsoka 1x08: The Jedi, The Witch, And The Warlord

[lured-into-wonderland]

If she was ever asked, she would have definitely refused. But no-one cared about her opinion. So, there she was. In front of the office door of Kisumi Shigino. What was she supposed to learn from him? And why? Nunnally was trying to remember what she was told about him, but her brain felt so empty.

Nunnally sighed and furrowed her brows in a silently building fury. All she wanted was to turn around and leave, but she was well aware that was impossible. If she did, she would have got dragged back. But at least she wasn’t going to make it easier for him. If he thought he could h a n d l e her, well then: he was wrong. And Nunnally was going to show him that he were.

She knew she looked good. She was pretty and her perfect clothes were tailored to emphasize her assets. Red high heels made her long legs look even longer. Her blond hair was nicely done and surrounded her face like a small golden cascade. She moved her head abruptly before entering his office. Her office? Their office?

Nunnally nodded to his secretary (hardly noticing her, indeed), commented that she was being awaited and entered his office without any further delay.

…and she was surprised. Nunnally expected someone much older and definitely less good-looking.

“Kisumi Shigino, I presume…” – she send him a smile (stick to the plan Nunnally; she scolded herself) – “I guess you have been awaiting me. We are to work together from now on.” – not exactly what was going to happen, but why not to twist the reality more to her liking.

“I hope you have a good coffee over here. I am almost addicted to it.” – a poor joke; she scolded herself again – “Do you think I could get a cup?” – she assumed he knew who she was, but still smiling she added: --

“I am Nunnally Ayvalles. I hope you have been informed I am to start today…”

A plotted starter with @kisumitenderly

[unforth]

Trick or treat!! What do you think about some Wen Ning and Wen Qing sibling bonding 🥺 as a treat 🥺

"So, are you ready to go trick-or-treating?" asked Wen Qing.

Startled, Wen Ning looked up, long strands of intentionally dirtied hair falling into his face. A Yuan had been...enthusiastic...about Wen Ning's zombie costume, and determined not to let his nephew down, Wen Ning had gone all in on makeup and tattered clothing, and had made himself filthy with some mud from a ditch near the apartment. But...

"We're done already?" he said hesitantly, gesturing toward where A Yuan had fallen asleep on the couch with his head in Granny's lap as she knit, the only sound the clink-clink-clink of her knitting needles. They'd gone all up and down the street, asking in every restaurant and shop, and had gotten a decent stash. A Yuan had been his usual sunny, cheery self, charming every owner into exclamations of "hen keai!!!" with his radish costume. It'd been fun. But now it was over. And that was fine.

"Not for him," said Wen Qing, rolling her eyes. The white contact lenses she wore for her jiangshi costume gave it an eerie effect. "For you."

"Me?" Wen Ning blinked at her.

"Yes, you." She pinned him with a pointed finger capped with a pointed stick-on nail.

"But I'm 16..."

"Oh, yes, definitely too old to go trick-or-treating." She rolled her eyes again, and Wen Ning was glad that even if the warmth in his cheeks meant a flush, his costume muck would hide it. "Seriously, didi," she continued more gently, "you deserve to get to act like a kid sometimes too. A Yuan is fine here with Granny" - Granny nodded her agreement with a faint hum - "and we never get to spend any time together. Go trick-or-treating with me?"

Despite the instincts telling him he should decline, Wen Ning couldn't help but break into a smile, and Wen Qing beamed in response. "Oh...okay," he mumbled.

"We'll be back," Wen Qing said to Granny. "Text if you need anything." She gave them a dismissive wave. They all knew she didn't know how to text. "Let's do this, bro."

And, vampire-in-zombie hand, they headed out to make the rounds. Wen Ning wasn't sure they'd be able to get any candy, but it was okay. An evening, just his sister and he, was precious time to be cherished even if they did nothing at all.

[aceghosts]

And I try to move on, but I just can't let go

Summary: Rooney Shepard takes a missing person's case at the request of Rogue Amendiares; they do not expect the client to be their ex-boyfriend, Yorinobu Arasaka. Title comes from nightlife's fallback. Rating: Mature Warnings: Referenced Character Death (Specifically Jackie and Rooney's), Referenced Human Experimentation (Rooney), and I think that is everything. Let me know if I need to tag for anything else. Words: 5,198 Author's Note: Just wanted to explain: Rooney's original universe is Mass Effect. I've tried to blend part of the events of Mass Effect (not the aliens and reapers, but their pre-service history and similar events) into Cyberpunk 2077. I tried to fit it in as best I can, staying within the confines of the universe, but I've changed parts of canon. Tagging: @bbrocklesnar. @marivenah, @voidika, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @amalkavian, @onehornedbeast, @captastra, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @inafieldofdaisies, @vizarding, and @thedeadthree. I added everyone who liked this post; I hope it's okay that I tagged you. If you want to or don't want to be tagged, let me know.

AO3

Music blasts loudly as Rooney Shepard steps into the Afterlife, a deep frown on their face. Around them, patrons of the club shout, trying to make themselves heard over the music. Their head throbs, a headache forming as they head towards the bar. Why couldn’t this have been a holo call? Rooney supposes it must be an important missing person’s case if Rogue wanted to drag them down to the Afterlife. Glancing over to her booth, Rooney catches sight of Rogue holding court, already occupied with some merc. Could be a while before she’s ready to see them. They grab a stool at the bar, catching sight of themself in the reflection of the glass panels. In the neon green light, Rooney looks sickly pale, washed out. The dark circles under their eyes stand out prominently, a thousand-yard stare gazing back at them. If it were anyone else, Rooney would describe them as haunted, but they’re fine, nothing is wrong with them. They have to be fine.

A moment later, Claire is in front of them with a sympathetic smile as she places her hands down on the bar. “Here for work or play, Shepard?”

“Work.” I would never come here for relaxation, Rooney adds silently. Relaxation used to be nights building model ships with a decent beer. Or a night at some cheap dive bar with V, Jackie, Misty, and Vik, chatting and listening to classic rock. Now…Now, V is dying, and Rooney needs to help them find a cure. No matter what it personally costs them.

Claire nods, motioning over their shoulder. “Understood. Although, I think some hope that you might come in here for a night off.” They follow her gaze, towards a Corpo, sharing a table with two of his colleagues. He raises his beer in greeting before motioning to come over, all while giving Rooney a flirtatious smile. Not interested. Shaking their head, Rooney looks back to Claire. They weren’t really interested in anyone like that since…“I’ll get you your usual, Shepard, even though you look like you could use a beer.”

“Thank you.” As Claire goes to get their drink, Rooney breathes deeply. Focus, Rooney, Focus. They need to be focused, especially for a case.

She returns with their soda, sliding it towards them as she glances over towards Rogue’s booth. “Rogue is ready for you.” They nod, flicking the creds to her along with a good tip as they get off the stool. Rooney takes the drink with them, making their way over to Rogue.

Squama nods as they approach, with Rooney returning one of their own as he moves to let them pass. Behind him, Rogue lounges, faintly reminding Rooney of a Lioness from the old nature vids they used to watch as a child. She watches them carefully, despite her fairly relaxed posture. “Shepard,” She greets them with a fairly no-nonsense tone, motioning for them to sit.

“Rogue,” Rooney sits, placing their drink down on the table. They watch her carefully, knowing Rogue is one of the few people not to underestimate in Night City. You do not become Queen without disposing of a few pawns. Besides, Rooney is curious about why they are here. Normally, Rogue preferred to give them cases over the holo with a slightly mocking tone or have a client reach out to Rooney directly. It was the rare few that ever required Rooney to come to the Afterlife. 

“I have a job for you.”

Rooney raises an eyebrow, holding back a sarcastic response. “I assumed. Why meet in-person for this one?”

“This job requires…” Rogue pauses, looking away briefly as she searches for the right word, “discretion.”

As Rogue looks back at them, alarm bells ring in their mind. Adrenaline spikes as their heart beats faster. Rooney tenses, eyes scanning around the room for potential threats. Nothing good ever happens when someone mentions being discrete. They know all too well from their time in the military that it meant covering up dirty laundry, protecting the reputation of powerful people. And if anyone should find out the truth? God help them all. For all Rooney cares, someone else can have this case. “No.”

“No?”

Shaking their head, Rooney stands, on high alert, “I don’t want it. Give it to someone else.”

“Shepard, don’t be so dramatic,” Rogue rolls her eyes, “You haven’t even heard-.”

“Don’t care.” Right now, they’re getting the same bad feeling about this job as they had about V and Jackie’s gig with that idiot Dexter DeShawn. And look where those two ended up: Jackie six feet under and V well on their way there. “I’m not interested. You can find-.”

“Sit,” Rogue commands with more authority than some of their previous COs, “Hear me out, and if you still don’t want it after, I’ll find someone else.”

Leave. LEAVE! Their brain screams at them, but curiosity wins out in the end as Rooney sits back down.

“You weren’t my first choice for this gig, Shepard.”

“So, that means others passed on it.”

“You might not be my first choice, but I haven’t told anyone else about it yet,” She pauses for a second, “I hoped I could think of someone else for this. You won’t like the client.”

“Rogue, if you’re trying to convince me, you aren’t being very persuasive about it.”

“You’re only here because you get results. And the client needs results.” She emphasizes that last part, her voice taking on a serious tone. “The client needs you to find someone. Quickly and quietly.”

“A merc could do that for you.”

“They also need someone who isn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later. They need someone who can handle this with a fine touch.”

“Again, I’m sure you could find a thousand mercs in this city who meet that requirement. I’m a PI.”

“Not as many as you would think,” she counters, her gaze drifting down to their left hand, the metal one forced on them by Arasaka, “You might find this case to be personal.”

They clench their fist, his voice in their head: “I hope you make him and Arasaka regret doing this to you”. Saburo Arasaka might be dead, but his shadow loomed large over Night City and Arasaka still. “Rogue, are you saying that Arasaka is going after someone who might need help getting away from them?”

Rogue smirks and Rooney finally feels like they’re catching on. “Maybe,” she shrugs, playing a slightly disinterested tone, “But you don’t want-.”

“I’ll take it.” Rooney has a terribly bad feeling about this job, and they’re playing right into her hands, but they won’t let someone suffer at the hands of Arasaka. What if this person could help V, saving them from the parasite in their head? Or what if it was V? Arasaka had already sent exterminators after V. Rooney wouldn’t put it past them to send someone after V, and who better to help V evade capture than a friend? This job might be a trap, but they’ve walked willingly into traps before and come out alive. Unscathed was a different matter.

“Good,” She flicks her wrist, sending them a text, their holo beeping a moment later. “You’ll find the details for your meeting with them in an hour and a half.” They frown, opening the message as they notice the meeting location set for the Ebunike with very little information on the client. “You’ll hear the exact details from the client. Wanted to keep some of the mystery.”

Dismissed. They get up, sighing. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

“I’m sure you will, Shepard.” As they leave, all Rooney can think is: What have they gotten themself into?

—

As soon as they leave the Afterlife, Rooney heads towards the docks on their black motorcycle, hoping they’ll have some time for surveillance. They do, but their preliminary surveillance leaves them with more questions than answers. Maelstrom guard the dock, providing little useful information. They hear the name “Grayson” a few times, who seems to be in charge of the operation. Rooney would need to investigate him more, but it wasn’t a good sign that he was working with the Maelstrom or Arasaka. Whoever Arasaka was looking for was in deep, deep trouble.

Deactivating their optical camo, Rooney emerges from the shadows, hands by their side as they approach the two Maelstrom guarding the entrance. They are hyper-vigilant, keeping an eye out with their electrified monowires at the ready. “Oh fuck!” One of the Maelstrom exclaims while they both jump at the sight of Rooney approaching. Rooney…wasn’t on good terms with the Maelstrom. While they preferred to use non-violent methods to resolve conflict, the Maelstrom weren’t always willing to listen. And Rooney was willing to use violence if necessary. “Shepard, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m not here for you two,” the two Maelstrom glance at each other, seemingly unconvinced by their words, “I’m here for a meeting with your boss on the Ebunike about a missing person’s case.”

Scratching his head, one asks, “Why should we fucking believe you?”

“Yeah,” the other crosses her arms, “What if this is a trap?”

If it was a trap, these two would have never seen it coming. “Call your boss and tell him Rogue Amendiares sent me. If he does not vouch for me, I’ll leave. Peacefully. You have my word.”

The Maelstrom sighs, his eyes alighting as he makes the call. “Grayson, we have someone for you. Says Rogue fucking sent them. Want us to send them home in a body bag?” He’s silent for a moment before his eyes flick back over to them. “It’s Shepard.” Silent again before sighing, “I’ll fucking bring them over”.

 The call ends, and he turns to Rooney. “Grayson vouches for ya. Says I’m supposed to fucking bring you to him like I’m a goddamn messenger boy.”

“Lead the way,” Rooney motions, “We both have a vested interest in having this end as soon as possible.”

The Maelstrom motions for Rooney to follow as his compatriot stays behind to guard the gate. Rooney follows him silently, making more mental notes as they weave their way through the docks. Lots of containers, stacked high, which meant lots of hiding places, a good and bad thing. Good as it meant plenty of places for Rooney to disappear to give them an edge. Bad as it meant their enemy also had the same opportunity to surprise them. They also noticed a few good vantage points, which would have been excellent for sniping if they brought their sniper rifle, Black Widow, with them. They had the sniper rifle with them during their whole military career, even during the Unification War. Eventually, they reach the Ebunike with the Maelstrom guide, climbing the stairs behind him. As they ascend, Rooney wonders who at Arasaka would need such a large, moored ship. It did not seem like a typical Arasaka meeting place. If anything, Arasaka liked to hold meetings in their buildings or businesses with which they had deep ties. Corps liked to be in control, and Arasaka was no exception.

Dread grows within them, like the blade of a guillotine hanging over a soon-to-be executed man. Reaching the center of the deck, Rooney finds Grayson with a few Maelstrom beside him. He looks relaxed, too relaxed for their liking. “Shepard, thank you for coming. I hope the Maelstrom weren’t too rude to you,” Grayson greets them with an unearned air of friendliness.

“They were fine.” No, the Maelstrom weren’t, but Rooney was not about to tip their hand. They glance around the dock, taking stock of their situation. Some more containers, but nothing that would be too useful. Too open for their liking. Keeping a professional tone, Rooney states, “As I said to your friend, Rogue Amendiares sent me. Told me you had a missing person’s case for me.”

“We do, Shepard.” The world drops out from under them as the door to a container opens behind them. Rooney’s eyes widen briefly at the sound of a familiar borg voice, their anxiety spiking. Instinct kicks in a second later, and Rooney spins around, activating their electrified monowire. The wire gleams brightly in the dim lighting of the ship’s deck, an audible hum of electricity in the air. Rooney tastes the electricity in their mouth, a side effect of their monowires. In the dark of the container, two red glowing eyes stare at them. A second later, they heard the sound of loud machinery, Adam Smasher, Yorinobu Arasaka’s personal bodyguard, stomping towards them. He laughs, sending a shiver down Rooney’s spine as he comes out into the light. “Put the fucking wire away, Shepard. I’m not here to kill you. Yet.”

He’s trying to get a rise out of them, and it’s fucking working. Rooney never liked Adam Smasher, too machine-like for their taste. Too cruel; too callous. They don’t put the wire down, wondering why Smasher would be on the Ebunike of all places. And then, the awful thought hits them like a rocket a second later. Oh no. Oh no. Smasher has to be here for V. Or he’s looking for Takemura, who will undoubtedly lead him straight to V. They cannot let that happen. V won’t stand a chance against Smasher. At least, not without some serious chrome, firepower, and allies. Rooney won’t fail V, not like how they failed to protect-. “What do you want?” Their tone is sharp as steel.

“Put the wire-.”

“I’m only going to ask you once,” Rooney cuts Smasher off, the Maelstrom and Grayson audibly gasping at their audacity, “What. Do. You. Want.”

The tension is thick in the air with Rooney ready to snap at any moment. They know they might not win against Smasher in a straight-up fight, but if they get clever, Rooney can-. “He’ll want to tell you himself. The brat will have a fucking tantrum if I don’t let him tell you.”

They holster their monowires, fairly certain that Smasher doesn’t mean them harm. Curious eyes burn into Rooney, everyone wondering why they would cause such a stir with Smasher’s boss. “I doubt he wants to see me. I think it would be better if you and I talked-.”

“No one ever rejected him the way you did, Shepard. Was licking his fucking wounds for weeks.” Dread morphs into guilt, and Rooney looks away. They hadn’t wanted to hurt Yorinobu, but they needed to return to the Military. It was their home, or at least, it had been at one point. “’Sides, even if I told you, you don’t fucking think he would come to find you himself?”

He would come looking for them, which would place V in even more danger. Vik, Misty, and Mamá Welles too. “You don’t have to tell him. You could always withhold my identity.”

“Pays me too much for that, Shepard. You want the fucking gig or not?”

No, they don’t; they really don’t. But this might have something to do with V, and they can’t fail V. Rooney won’t fail V. It also sounds like Yorinobu might be in trouble too. He was the whole reason Rooney got through their time with Arasaka, after being reanimated and jacked with experimental mods. Yorinobu was the first one to make them feel like a person, not so alone. They wanted, no, needed to help Yorinobu if he was in trouble.  “I’ll do it. When would he like to meet?”

Something akin to a smile appears on Smasher’s face. “Now.”

—

The ride up to the Arasaka CEO’s office is a silent one as Rooney watches the numbers tick on as the elevator climbs upward. Their last interaction with Yorinobu plays over in their head, the memory as clear as day.

Yorinobu is panic-stricken, holding onto their arm tightly. “Rooney, you cannot go back to them. They threw you away, leaving you to the whims of Arasaka. What happens if you die again?”

Three more floors…

They frown, confused by his behavior. “Yorinobu, you can’t stop me from returning. We both knew I wasn’t going to stay here forever. What did you think would happen?”

Two more floors…

His grip on their arm loosens, face softening. “I thought you might want to stay with me. Help me destroy Arasaka from the inside.”

One more floor…

Rooney pulls their arm from Yorinobu. “In another life, I would have,” He looks heartbroken as they continue softly, “But I made a promise to serve, and I intend to keep my promise.”

The elevator door opens, releasing Rooney from their memories of heartbreak. They walk beside Smasher, gaze focused on the office in front of them. Rooney swallows nervously, rolling their left shoulder, out of habit. They never expected to see Yorinobu again, especially under these circumstances.

Rooney enters Yorinobu’s office with Smasher, Yorinobu standing in front of his desk, his back towards the two. In front of him is a large screen, detailing Arasaka’s stock value, and other information. “Do you have them?” Yorinobu asks, sounding vaguely annoyed.

“Course I have them,” Smasher motions to Shepard, “Do I ever come up fucking empty handed?”

Yorinobu shakes his head, placing the holopad down. He turns, facing Rooney and Smasher as the pair stop a few feet away from him. Trying to stay collected, Rooney feels like they’ve had the wind knocked out of them. He’s in front of them; Yorinobu is really in front of them. Yorinobu must be feeling the same way.  His eyes widen behind his glasses, shock clear on his face. “Rooney?”

He says their name, and they want to run to him so badly. To hold him in their arms and tell Yorinobu that they wish they had reached out sooner. Instead, they clasp their hands behind their back, aiming to treat him as they would any other client. “Good evening Yorinobu,” Rooney feels fairly confident in using his first name while staying professional, “I understand that you need help finding a missing person. I’m happy to work with your team, or I can recommend-.”

“That’s it?” Frustration colors his voice as he shakes his head. “This is the first time we have seen each other since that day, and this is how you react? Like I am stranger? Like nothing happened?”

Yorinobu is so much more to Rooney than a stranger. He’s the one that they let go, the one person who still holds the still-beating pieces of Rooney Shepard’s perpetually broken heart. “You are a client,” Their tone is firm as they continue to dig their grave, ever obstinate, “You are hiring me to find someone. Unless you would prefer someone else to take this case.” Someone who has less emotional baggage.

He looks hurt at their declaration, mumbling something under his breath about how stubborn they are, a badge that they wear with pride. To Smasher, he dismisses the man with a wave of his hand. “Leave.”

“Gladly,” Smasher replies, likely relieved to not be part of their argument. He stomps out of the room, leaving the two alone.

Silence permeates the room as Rooney searches for the right words. Yorinobu huffs, “What about us? Did any of that mean anything to you?”

They flinch a little, hurt a little by the insinuation that Yorinobu thought that Rooney didn’t care about their relationship, that it didn’t matter. But, they were treating him like a client. Sighing, Rooney unclapses their hands from behind their back. They join him at his desk and lean against it as they cross their arms over their chest. “What we had meant a lot to me, Yorinobu,” He perks up a little, some of that signature cockiness returning, “but you made it pretty clear when I left to return to the military that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I did not mean-.”

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it,” Rooney looks up at him, “I wanted to respect your boundaries, and you made it pretty clear about where we stood.” Yorinobu looks down at his desk, avoiding their gaze. Damnit, they were screwing this up. “Yorinobu,” they gently call his name, and he looks up at them, “I’m here now. Tell me about this case.”

He comes closer to them, the scent of his familiar cologne invading their nose. Woodsy with bits of Cedar and Nutmeg. “Saburo Arasaka is dead,” He admits quietly, meeting their gaze.       

“I would give my condolences, but I feel it would be more appropriate to say, may Saburo Arasaka rot in hell.”

Yorinobu smirks, a small laugh escaping him. “May he rot somewhere worse than hell,” He looks away from them, “He was poisoned by his bodyguard.” Not the story I was told, Rooney thinks. They trust that V’s version is more accurate, knowing how much Yorinobu hated his father. But, why was he continuing to give them the same tale he was giving everyone else? Probably because they were an ex he hadn’t seen in a few years. Yorinobu couldn’t know where their loyalties lie. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who was going to keep secrets.

“There were also two thieves that day,” They raise an eyebrow knowing full well that he is referring to V and Jackie, “They stole something from me. Something important.”

“Important how?”

Deftly avoiding the question, he picks up a black flash drive from his desk and comes to stand in front of them. Holding it up, he asks, “I have footage of the crime if you want to see it. Would you like me to insert it for you?”

Rooney nods, tilting their head slightly as brush away their dark red hair, offering him better access to slot the drive in. His right hand gently wraps around their throat, holding them still in place, fingers slightly interlaced with their hair. His brown eyes meet their ocean blue ones for a second, and Rooney’s breath hitches in their throat, a small flame of yearning they thought long buried flickering within them. He slots the drive in, the footage begins to play a second later. Two thieves pop out of the wall, clearly shaken: V and Jackie Welles. Formerly Night City’s dynamic duo. Close friends of Rooney’s. While Jackie and V’s faces are blurred, Rooney can still tell them from a mile away. The two mercs rush over to Saburo’s corpse, panicking over the dead man. The audio is distorted, perhaps on purpose to keep any mention of Yorinobu’s deeds hidden.

“Notice anything?” He asks, leaning in closer, his breath warm on their ear. Yorinobu’s thumb lazily strokes along the edge of their jaw. Rooney swallows, reminding themself to focus on the matter at hand: the footage.

“No.” Jackie and V freak out. Jackie paces back and forth in place, awkwardly holding the stolen goods. V is running back and forth, looking terrified as they search for a way out. A few moments later, Jackie and V are gone, the footage ending. The drive pops out, Yorinobu taking it as he releases their throat. Rooney tries not to miss the touch of his skin against theirs, but it’s hard to shake. “I don’t recognize the perpetrators,” a bold-faced lie, “I can reach out to some of my contacts underground to see if they’ve heard anything. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“You will need to find only one of the thieves. The man holding what they stole is dead.”

“Anything more?” Yorinobu looks away, placing the drive down, and Rooney senses some hesitancy. But they need to know. If Rooney can find a way to help him and V, they want to. There has to be a path forward; Rooney just can’t see it yet. “Yorinobu,” They say his name softly, uncrossing their arms. Gently, they place their hand on his shoulder, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze, “I know this must be difficult for you, but any detail helps. I want to help you.” Please let me help you.

He grabs a holopad from his desk, swiping it a few times before passing it to Rooney. Taking the pad, their brows furrow as they begin to read the details. Shit, that is the thing that is killing V. “What is this?”

“Do you remember how I told you that my Father did worse things? Things worse than experimenting on you?” They remember the conversation very clearly, the one where Yorinobu swore that he would destroy Arasaka from the inside out. “This is one of them: the Relic.”

“And what does the Relic do?” They already know what it does. It turns idiot mercs with delusions of grandeur into long-dead rockstars.

“My father wanted to live forever,” Yorinobu’s voice is grave, “The Relic was his answer to that.”

Horror washes over them like a wave capsizing a boat in a stormy sea. Their heart skips a beat, the awful insinuation not lost on them. That’s…that’s…There are not enough words in the human language for Rooney to express how awful it is. Shakily, they place the holopad down, facing him with horror clear on their face. Instinctively, Rooney cups his face, searching his eyes. He’s still Yorinobu, the man they knew. But that still doesn’t make them any less worried for him. “Yori..,” their nickname for him slips out in a breathy tone as he uses the opportunity to pull them closer, hands on their hips, “Saburo…he didn’t try to… he didn’t…?” Even after all the terrible things they’ve seen, Rooney can’t bring themself to finish the sentence.

“No, he never got the chance.”

Rooney breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“Worried for me?”

“Always.” From the moment they left the Arasaka labs, Rooney worried about him, afraid that he might do something rash.

“When did you come to Night City?”

They’re surprised at his question. “I thought we were talking about the case, not about me.”

“You know you need to find the thief and the relic, and I would prefer this was kept between you, Smasher, and I. You will also be compensated generously for your work. But, I am curious as to how you came to live in Night City.”

“I arrived a year and a half ago. Something about being with the military didn’t feel right anymore. I ended up here in Night City, a place where the Free States and the NUS would leave me alone.”

“Did you know I was here?”

They sigh, knowing this would go in circles. “Yes, but I thought-.”

“I know what you thought,” Yorinobu cuts them off, “But did you ever think about contacting me?”

More than he knows. Rooney remembers the first time that they thought about contacting him. It was a rainy day, and they were limping to Vik’s after a nasty run-in with Scavs. As they walk down the rainy street, they catch sight of Yorinobu’s face on a screen. He stops them in their tracks, the world seemingly stopping. They watch, mesmerized, no longer caring that the rain was drenching them as the news report continued. Without thinking, they pull up their contact list, scrolling down to Yorinobu. Rooney hovers over his name, wanting so desperately to call him, to hear his voice. Instead, they close the phone, knowing that some things are better left in the past. The second time was when V was in critical condition. Things were going to shit, and he was one of the first people Rooney wanted to contact. Actually, he was the first, but they decided against it. “I did,” They admit quietly.

“Did you miss me?” A loaded question if Rooney’s ever heard one. And one they refuse to answer. They should keep things professional, already having crossed several lines. “I missed you; I missed you terribly.” He leans down toward them, longing battling within Rooney. God, they want him badly, so badly that it threatens to consume them. He’s so close and Rooney leans up to meet him, wanting Yorinobu so much more than they realize. 

“Arasaka-sama,” A voice speaks over the intercom on his desk, “Hanako-Sama is here to see you.” Rooney is jolted back to reality, realizing what they were about to do and how monumentally of a bad idea this was. They release him, gently pulling themself out of his arms. Yorinobu looks pained at their rejection, and a sharp spike of guilt rises in their chest. It’s better for them both this way.

“I should go,” They have to do this, someone has to stop this, and Rooney will take on that responsibility, “I should start working on the case.”

“Rooney, please do not-.”

“Stop.” The wounded look on his face sends another stake of pain in their chest. “Hanako, your sister, needs you right now.”

“And you do not?” They open their mouth, and he cuts them off. “Do not give me some self-serving bullshit about being fine.”

Rooney is fine. Or at least, maybe they’ll convince everyone they are fine if they repeat it enough times. “Doesn’t matter what I need,” They say sharply, giving him a pointed look, “Right now, we need to find the thief and the Relic.” Or at least, buy enough time that they can figure out what to do with this shitstorm of a situation. “I’ll leave my number with Smasher and pass anything I find on to him.” Smasher was one of the last people that Rooney wanted to have their number, but this would be better for everyone.  

“No,” They raise an eyebrow before Yorinobu’s eyes alight and they’re receiving a call from him, “Since I still have your number and you have mine, please contact me with all updates. I plan to be very involved in this.”

The door to this office opens, and both turn towards the door, the sound of heels clicking drawing their attention.  Hanako Arasaka steps into the office, Sandayu Oda hot on her heels. “Shepard,” Hanako looks surprised, all while staying very prim and proper, “I did not know you were in Night City.”

“Just moved within the last year, Ma’am. Your brother didn’t know either.” Rooney knew what Hanako was fishing for. She had been aware of their relationship with Yorinobu the last time, even if she did not always approve of it. “Oda,” They nod a greeting towards him.

“Shepard,” He returns with a nod of his own.

“Please excuse me. I was just leaving, Ma’am.” They start, making their way to the door.

“Have a pleasant night, Shepard.”

“You as well.” Rooney quickly excuses themself, throwing one last glance over their shoulder at Yorinobu. He catches their gaze, winking at them. They shake their head, fully leaving the office.

As soon as they reach the elevator, Rooney leans against the back wall, letting out a sigh as the elevator door closes. Their holo pings a second later, a familiar name appearing. The text read: We should get a drink sometime. An offer that sounded far more tempting than it should. Rooney closes the message, leaving him on read. This was going to be a long case. 

[tomatoderby]

I found this colour palette from @color-palettes and it kinda reminded me of @dilfosaur 's Neopet Destiel Confession, so I tried drawing him using it. I also coloured him using his original colour palette because why not

[Video ID: a 60 second timelapse of me drawing Destiel Confession lying on some grass while holding a bottle of Coco Colo in his right hand]

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