#its wild to me that the name change was all in service of a joke

[freydis-freydat]

It delighted Freydis to see Micefang so animated and lively at the sound of its own name. The beast was a construct, and she struggled to understand how it possessed a sense of understanding and emotion, how it felt so alive. But the idea that the ter’ tyrig was enjoying itself pleased her to no end. “I’m not sure I heard you laugh,” she pointed out, if only because she was privately certain she would have committed the sound to memory. Most things that made her happy lived in that state now; immaterial, imperfect memory. 

“Is it too much to ask to be in one place for a week?” she half groaned at his suggestion. But he was right. The Tower didn’t make the most sense as the center of her research. It had made sense as a starting point by means of proximity and proximity alone, but Freydis was certain Eivor would be contrarian and deprecating of the Tower even if it had housed a wall-to-wall span of volumes on the subject given his prejudice against witches. “I’ll engage the scholars of the Silverlands as soon as matters settle in the Wildlands,” she promised, if only to placate him for the time being. “And then perhaps you may play the role of the dutiful host.” She paused for a few moments considering the trouble with the archfey. “I had considered the feywilds, too, but given the entanglement I find myself in after having crossed just the one who knows what additional troubles I’d find there. I never seem to learn anything either; every time I think I find an answer to a question I seek more questions and doubts take its place.” 

Freydis was not sure further explanation was necessary. Though she could not sense it in the land around them in their present moment, she knew of what he spoke. There was an energy and a heaviness in the broodmother’s den. When she had come to, it felt in some ways that she passed through that piece of the world through a strange film, something permeating in energy and dirtiness all at once. She could feel it now, if only in memory, prickling up her spine, making her mouth go dry and her hands go numb. The memory of the Blight left her chest constricted and her mouth wired shut, leaving her deadened and dumb, avoidant and nauseated. She caught his glance from the corner of her eye, indicating her understanding with little more than a nod. 

The change in subject allowed the air back into her lungs, and she grounded herself again discretely pinching her inner arm until the pain produced brought on the threat of tears in her eyes. “I suppose that would be helpful,” she pretended to think out loud, mirroring the tilting of his head as she peered back at him. “Maybe if we ever find ourselves out on the pitch together you will do me the great service of letting me fight from atop your shoulders?”

She turned her attention forward again, the sight of the cabin making itself apparent as they came to the top of the hill their horses had been climbing. The path remained washed out from the storm that had blown through several days prior, but it was no matter. “I am grateful to Aurea,” she explained, swinging her leg over her horse and laying over its saddle for a second before she dropped to her feet. No doubt another joke about her stature was moments away. “And I like the wilds, they remind me of where I grew up. But above all else, all I want is a damned minute of peace."

"Micefang the Unmeowed and Undefeated," Eivor's words seemed to cause Micefang to get a little excited, and the creature was bounding along still. The Elvhen had to smirk, if only because it wasn't something he was expecting. "I like it," he said finally, turning to look back towards Freydis. "It's not stupid, it made me laugh," Eivor's humor could probably be labeled as stupid, but no one was brave enough to make that joke. Her childhood seemed to hold a special place, enough to name the creature something from it. Eivor did not linger on these thoughts, however – he wouldn't be able to offer any in return.

"She is fey, then maybe you should seek more knowledge in the Silverlands. The Elvhen live closer; the Tower doesn't know everything." Asking witches for help first? Eivor would rather fall on his sword. He did not have an answer for her, however. The history of Nintra far from what he knew.

"I wish I could explain it better, but I guess I can't." Eivor waved his hand slightly, "Like it is...unhealthy. Like the Blight is...making things worse. That's what it does, though, doesn't? I had never seen it, or its affects, until everyone else had. It did not seem to be real, but the more I wander Taravell, the more I see it." The Elvhen only gave Freydis an apologetic look, but he didn't have more to add – words were hard. He huffed out a chuckle when she shot back at his own height, "I like to be able to see the battlefield, you know." He tilted his head at her words, "Then I'm sure you will prove a great asset, Freydis. Haven may be the place for you, considering you like it here at this cabin so much."

[writethelifeyouwant]

Everything's Bigger In Texas

Summary: You decide to drive up to Dallas to surprise your old high school buddy, Jared, while he’s there for a convention.

Pairing: Jared x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: J2 convention hilarity, dick jokes, only one bed, high school friends, spooning, size kink Word Count: 3,504 Bingo Squares: @spnkinkbingo - Size Kink

A/N: Not set around any particular season. For the purpose of this story, Jared and Jensen are both single, non-fathers.

Commissioned by: @jbbarnesgirl She had a great prompt that this has now spawned a sequel (which will be a member exclusive on my website)! Thanks for letting my mind run wild on this one babe ❤️

You pull into the parking space the valet wrote on your ticket and park with a dramatic exhale of relief. You’ve actually gone through with it and made the three hour drive up to Dallas to surprise Jared at his convention this weekend.

It had been years since your last high school reunion in Austin when you’d run into each other and wound up drunk in a Waffle House at three in the morning, stuffing your faces with bacon and french fries. You and he were the kind of friends that were awful at keeping in touch but time traveled straight back to junior year anytime you ran into each other. You’ve always been able to talk and laugh like only a weekend had passed between visits instead of years.

You hope Jared’s happy to see you, because you’ve been bursting at the seams with excitement since you came up with your ‘surprise’ plan.

The hotel lobby is swarming with fans and you wonder how on earth you’re going to find Jared in all the bustle. Your plan is to find someone who looks like they’re working the convention and ask for directions to Jared and Jensen’s bodyguard, Clif, who you hope to God remembers dropping your drunk ass off at your apartment after the Waffle House incident. It’s not a very elegant plan but it’s all you’ve got. You spot someone with a lanyard and a walkie-talkie and beeline toward them, fingers crossed in your pocket.

Twenty minutes and several tiers up the convention staff hierarchy later you’re finally led to a service hallway and ushered towards a door, Clif standing guard stoically outside it. The employee escorting you speaks quietly to Clif while you stand there awkwardly, rocking back and forth, toes to heel, in an effort to contain your nervous energy. A look of recognition slowly dawns across the bodyguard’s face as he takes another look at you.

“Austin, a couple years ago?” he asks to confirm.

“High school reunion,” you nod in affirmation, relieved he actually does remember you.

“No getting Jared drunk until after the panel,” Clif admonishes, aiming a thick finger menacingly at your face, and you nod gravely before his face cracks into a grin and he swings the door behind him back on its hinges.

“Y/N?!” Jared’s facing the door and spots you immediately, his face breaking into a wide smile. The anxiety that had solidified in your chest with each passing mile on your way here disintegrates, carrying the tension out of your body as it melts away.

“Hey there, Hot Shot.”

Jared bounds forward and wraps you tightly in a hug, the muscles in his arms visibly bulging the sleeves of his t-shirt as he squeezes you against him, which you can’t help but notice because your eye level is at his bicep. You hug him back as tightly as you can manage, pressing your cheek into his chest.

“How ya doin’, squirt?” Jared grabs your shoulders and manhandles you away from him so he can get a better look at you, his eyes racing up and down your figure. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Dallas is only a three hour drive,” you shrug. It’s no big deal really, you’d just wanted to see him. “Plus my mom cancelled our girls’ weekend, so I had nothing better to do,” you grin, your eyes twinkling up at him wryly. Behind you, you hear Jensen snort with laughter. Jared turns to his friend, giving him a withering look and Jensen chokes back another laugh, unable to hide his amusement.

“Dude, you were her back-up plan after her mom?”

“Shut up,” Jared rolls his eyes but you join in Jensen’s giggles.

“I’m Jensen, by the way,” the man in question raises a hand in greeting, and you smile back.

“Y/N,” you wave. “Went to high school with this nut case,” you jerk your thumb towards Jared.

“Feels like I do too,” Jensen laughs. “He still acts like he’s fourteen most of the time.”

“Hey!” Jared points an accusing finger at Jensen, “at least fifteen, thank you very much.”

“And what exactly is the distinction between fourteen and fifteen here, Jay?” he asks.

“He doesn’t pop a boner every time he talks to a girl anymore?” you offer, snickering. Jensen bursts out laughing, a full bellied, joyous sound that fills out every corner of the room. Jared is rolling his eyes again, but you spy the faint blush that’s started to creep up his neck, and based on the smirk Jensen’s wearing, you think he’s spotted it too.

“So,” Jared draws out the syllable, trying to change the topic. “Are you staying for the convention then?”

“Got my ticket and everything,” you wave your pass in the air. “But mainly I just wanted to see you, it’s been way too long.”

“Yeah, it has,” Jared squeezes your arm affectionately. “Where’s your seat? I think we’re getting called out soon.”

“Oh I’m with the plebs at the back, standing room. Seeing your ass is only worth so much money,” you tease.

“You’re standing?” Jared’s brow shoots up. “You won’t be able to see a damn thing,” he laughs.

“You’re tall enough to see from space, Bigfoot,” you try to hit him on the head but he easily stretches his neck so you can’t reach, illustrating your point.

“She’s gotcha there, J-Rod,” Jensen agrees, strolling forwards and smacking Jared on the back of the head for you, since your attempt was foiled. “But you don’t have to stand all the way back there, sweetheart,” Jensen adds. “Come out with us, we’ll have someone put you at the side of the stage.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I really don’t mind standing,” you protest. You didn’t want to take space away from the fans who had paid for the close seats. You’re only a casual watcher of the show anyways, ghosts and monsters aren’t so much your thing, you just watch it because of Jared.

“Nah, c’mon,” Jared ignores your protest, striding back towards the door and popping his head out to talk to Clif. “Can you have them slap an extra chair on the side of the stage? Y/N’s gonna stick around for the panel.”

“Sure thing,” Clif nods, and radioes a volunteer to get it done.

“Jared,” you roll your eyes at your friend.

“Too late,” he taunts. “You’re stuck with the fangirls now.”

“Just keep in mind all the shit I could tell them,” you threaten jokingly.

“Nah, you won’t do that.” Jared’s entirely unconcerned.

“Why not?”

“Because then I won’t pay for our drinks tab later,” he smirks.

You mime turning a lock and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”

“You better tell me later though, sweetheart,” Jensen ducks his head to whisper in your ear as they usher you out the door.

“Buy me a couple cosmos, you can know anything you want,” you smirk, and let Jensen and Jared guide you out to the convention hall for their panel.

“I will definitely take you up on that,” Jensen’s breath ghosts ticklishly over your ear. He shoots you a wink as he ducks behind a dividing curtain and you wave back giggling, and make your way to the seat Clif is pointing you towards.

The panel is a whole lot of fun, and you have to admit it’s definitely better sitting up front than it would have been fighting to stay standing in the sea of hormones jostling at the back. This close up, you can see Jared and Jensen’s reactions much more clearly, too; every secretive grin between them, every twitching laugh line, every aborted glance back in your direction. Laughter rings through the crowd and you refocus your attention on the questions.

“Which one of us is the biggest what?” Jensen speaks into his mic, asking the girl on the opposite side of the stage to you to repeat her question.

“Well I’m the biggest,” Jared cuts in smirking, and the audience cheers and giggles. Jared flashes them a bright, goofy smile.

“Well, that depends on what she’s asking,” Jensen smacks Jared on the arm. The girl tries to ask her question again but she’s laughing through it and the words come out garbled again.

“Which one of us has the biggest pants?” Jared’s brow raises as he incorrectly repeats the question again. You know there’s no way that’s what the girl asked. “That’s still me darlin’.” He turns to your side of the stage goddamn winks, and you flush just as deeply as the girl asking her question. You roll your eyes at him, glad that he probably can’t see you very clearly due to the stage lights shining in his eyes.

“That topic is still up for debate, actually,” Jensen protests seriously.

“No it’s not,” Jared scoffs.

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Jensen’s not backing down. “Costume department compared our measurements bro, they’re the same.”

“You and I both know that didn’t include the measurement they’re talking about,” Jared glares jokingly out at the audience.

There’s wolf whistles and shrieks of delight from the crowd and Jensen bursts out laughing. “You’re gonna give them all aneurysms, man.”

You certainly feel like you might be having an aneurysm. Your blood is pumping hot and hard through your veins. You can actually hear it swirling around your body, leaking out into your capillaries, carrying burning embarrassment and desire to the tips of each vessel.

It’s a running joke, the size difference between you and Jared. He towers over most of the people he meets, so it’s not unsurprising that he towers over you as well. He’s called you ‘squirt’ as long as you can remember knowing him, and you’ve called him every name you can dream up, from ‘sasquatch’ to ‘jolly green giant’.

As you both grew older, and Jared’s physique caught up to his height, and your mind started to take up a more permanent residence in…ahem… lower places than it had inhabited in your youth, you began to wonder just how big Jared would be if you ever… You imagine big. Proportional, at the very least. Though, Jared has always been an overachiever, you imagine it might extend to this measurement as well. You secretly hope, anyway.

You gulp nervously. There’s a reason you and Jared had gotten so trashed the last time you’d hung out, and that was so you could drown your burgeoning crush in some socially acceptable poison and hope it didn’t break its head through the surface. Jared looks back at you and flashes you a smile, probably in relation to whatever he’d just said but you hadn’t been listening, mind too preoccupied thinking about the size of your friend’s dick. You let out a sigh of resignation – you were going to have to get smashed tonight, too.

“Oh,” Jensen’s voice rings through the auditorium as he finally understands the question. “Which one of us did the biggest prank?”

“Uh, Jensen,” Jared answers after a moment of dramatised consideration, “just now when he told you all he has a bigger dick than me.”

There’s an echoing thud as Jensen smacks Jared’s head with his microphone and Jared and Jensen both double up laughing, covering their mics so it doesn’t reverberate around the room. When things settle down after a minute you see Jensen lean towards Jared to say something privately. The mics don’t pick it up, but you’re close enough that you think you hear him say, “later tonight, we’re getting out the ruler.”

The hotel bar is basically empty, but you and Jared are still in a private room at the back so he doesn’t get mobbed by fans if they do happen to wander in. Jensen had joined you for a drink earlier, but he had to leave to perform at the Saturday night concert for the convention.

-

“Do you ever perform on Saturdays?” you poked at Jared, and both he and Jensen laughed wildly.

“Never in a million years,” Jared shook his head. “I just watch this guy give everyone in the room phantom orgasms all night.”

“Gross, dude,” Jensen shuddered as Jared guffawed but you had to agree, Jensen’s voice was orgasmic.

“Have fun with your ménage a several hundreds,” you waved Jensen off with a giggle.

“You’ll have to join in sometime,” Jensen backed out of the room with a wicked grin, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously and leaving you and Jared laughing behind him.

-

“You want another one?” Jared asks, pointing at your nearly empty glass.

“If I have any more I’ll have to crawl back to Austin,” you hiccup, the alcohol making you giggle-y and unsteady despite your seated state.

“You’re not goin’ back to Austin, squirt,” Jared protests, drowning the remainder of his own glass.

“Am I being kidnapped?”

“Damn straight. You’re not driving anywhere tonight, don’t be stupid.”

“I was gonna dry out a little first,” you defend yourself. Of course you weren’t planning to drive home drunk.

“By the time you sober up it will be way too late to go back. Just stay the night here,” Jared shrugs, indicating it’s no big deal for you to crash. You think about it for a moment and then agree that staying over is a better plan. Besides, Jared will have a big fancy room since the convention is paying for them to stay here – he’ll have plenty of space for you.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically but you aren’t all that perturbed, and Jared knows it too. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” Jared grins. “C’mon, I’ll grab a bottle from the bar and let’s go upstairs. I don’t want to get caught in the crowd after the concert finishes.” You also don’t want to be mobbed by hundreds of concert goers, so you happily follow Jared out of the bar and up to his hotel room.

Jared flops dramatically onto his bed when you get inside, but you stand by the door, taking in your surroundings. As you’d imagined, the room is lavish. Every piece of furniture is accented with metallics, and every soft surface is heaped with pillows, including the bed Jared is now snuggling back onto. But, you note with a bit of surprise, there is only one bed.

Apparently fancy doesn’t automatically come with multiple beds – and why should it? Jared hadn’t expected anybody to stay the night, he’d only needed the one bed. Had he known there was only one bed when he offered you a place to crash for the night? Or had someone else brought up the luggage that you could see piled at the foot of the bed, meaning he wouldn’t have known what the exact sleeping situation would turn out to be? You’re jolted out of your frenzied contemplation when Jared throws a pillow at your head, though it narrowly misses and hits the door behind you.

“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” he laughs, eyes crinkling.

“Uh, no, course not,” you scoff, hoping Jared assumes the flush creeping over your skin is from alcohol, and not embarrassment. Jared scoots over to one side of the bed and pats the empty space he’s just created. The bottle of whiskey he’d brought from the bar downstairs is propped next to him on the pillows and it bounces as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You reach for it and peel back the foil cap, pulling the cork free with a pop.

“Wanna watch something?” Jared rifles on the side of the bed, digging for his laptop in the bag on the floor.

“Whatever you want,” you shrug.

You inwardly hope watching something might help you control your drunk chatter. Your mind has been wandering to one specific place since the panel this afternoon and you’re hyper aware that when you get tipsy, your filter becomes non existent. You do not want to give Jared an unsolicited insight into your horribly inappropriate mind.

Your eyes shift from the bottle in your hands to Jared’s laptop, now open and sitting on his thighs while he surfs through movie options online. His hands overwhelm the breadth of the keyboard, the pads of each long finger almost bigger than the letter keys they’re hovering over. How far could those fingers reach if they were… No. You curtail that course of thought with a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and flick your eyes away from his hands.

Jared’s legs are pressed together, gangly limbs and knees scrunched up and pushing the fabric at his hips into ripples. An unmissable bulge sits at the apex of his thighs, distending the denim so it’s stretched tightly across his cock while it’s bunched and wrinkled everywhere else. You swallow hard and tear your gaze away, forcing yourself to look back at Jared’s laptop. He’s stopped scrolling now, and after a moment you realise he’s asking you if the movie he’s hovering over is an okay choice. You nod mutely and take another drink.

“Woah there darlin’, save some for the rest of us,” he laughs, grabbing the bottle from your hands, fingertips brushing over yours as he wraps them around the green glass. You wonder if Jared feels the same pang of electricity that you do when you touch. He’s evidently curious as to why you recoiled so quickly, because he’s now carefully studying your hand and the fingers that had just brushed against his.

Your moment of thick silence is interrupted by the fanfare of opening credits as the movie begins to play, startling you. Jared smooshes himself further back into the feather pillows on the unfairly comfy bed and stretches his arms wide, patting the pillow he’s using as an armrest to summon you to him.

Nervous and giddy all at once, you tuck yourself into the crook of his arm, curling up against his side. Even laying down he feels so much bigger than you. Your eyes drop again, unbidden, to his lap and you rip your gaze away quickly. The whiskey must be settling in now, because you start to feel sleepy and because, for just a second, you think that the bulge in Jared’s crotch looks even larger than it had a few minutes earlier.

Jared pulls you close against him, offering you the whiskey bottle again, and you take it happily. The two of you lazily glug more booze and laugh along with whatever comedy is on the laptop, and you’re utterly content. At some point in time your neck loses its ability to support your head and you topple it sideways onto Jared’s shoulder.

“You comfy there, Y/N?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum sleepily, snuggling even deeper into Jared’s chest, your arm winding itself around his waist of its own accord, and Jared squeezes you against him, laughing softly into your hair.

You aren’t sure when you fell asleep – you don’t remember the end of the movie at all. You don’t even remember how you’d wound up under the covers, cradled snugly in the bend of Jared’s body. Wiggling a little to reintroduce feeling into your left arm, you shift backwards into his chest, secretly hoping the arm currently resting on top of the covers might drop around your waist as you continue to sleep.

Arching out to stretch your legs a little, you wind up nudging your hips back into Jared’s and you freeze in shock. Here, pressed close beneath the confines of cotton-swaddled feathers, you feel it… and you can tell – Jared hadn’t been kidding at the panel earlier. He must be bigger than Jensen, because there’s no way anyone could be physically larger than what you feel pressing into the curve of your ass right now.

Your whole body flushes, but you’re too scared to move away lest you wake Jared, so you stay. You try to breathe, systematically unclenching the muscles in your body from head to toe and allowing yourself to relax against your bed companion. Darkness settles around you when your eyes drift shut again but the light from Jared’s laptop still casts a faint blue tint against your eyelids.

That comforting blue morphs into a shocking orange, and your eyes squint against the unexpected source of light now coming from the open door. Seconds later it’s even brighter as the lights in the room are switched on to reveal Jensen leaning casually against the back of the door, smirking in the direction of the bed. Behind you, Jared has jolted awake, sitting up and pitching you forward into the mattress with the force of his disturbance.

“Jay?” he asks blearily, yawning through the word.

“Why did I have a feeling this is what I’d be walking into tonight?” Jensen answers with a laugh and a kind roll of his eyes. You look sleepily between both of the men, confused as all hell.

Finally, it occurs to you why Jensen must be in the room – and why there had only been one bed.

Part 2 now up as an exclusive commission on my website!

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[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 1

Author’s Note:  Welcome everyone to my Childe x Reader fanfiction! Decided to post the first (and only so far) chapter since I’m happy with it.  Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!!!

Now where did Mr. Zhongli run off to?  Wherever you'd end up, you'd miss the man by a hair.  Running errands for Hu Tao was practically the equivalent to a wild goose chase.  "Wait a second!"  A sudden realization stopped you in your tracks, and a few customers that were buying kites held startled expressions from your yelp.  "She's pranking me again, isn't she?!"

Zhongli was inspecting noticulous jade samples behind you when he heard a female voice yell to no one in particular.  He turned to see you, completely deflated for reasons unknown to him.  Shouldn't you be at the parlor overseeing your duties in the presence of Hu Tao?  What were you doing out here?  "What seems to be the matter, Reed?"

"ZHONGLI!"  Another yelp, and this time the customers nearby became more annoyed.  You spun on your heel and meet your coworker's gaze.  "I've been looking everywhere for you! Um, Hu Tao wanted me to give you these," you promptly handed a small stack of slightly crumpled documents to him.  "She said they were really important...?"

"Let me see..." Golden eyes turned their attention to the script with the utmost focus before he heaved a tiresome sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is...something the matter?"  You could've sworn everything was in order...maybe it was possible that in your rush to find him, you had lost a paper or two without noticing?

"What is it exactly that Hu Tao instructed you to do?"  His voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but it went unnoticed by you.

"She just told me to find you and give you the documents, and that you'd know what to do with them.  And she also told me not to look at them.  Why?"

Another sigh, and the documents were handed back to you.  "I apologize, but it appears that you've fallen victim to her...childish antics yet again."  

He was right.  The documents were nothing more than a bunch of gibberish and what looked like to be a horrible attempt to draw Zhongli on one of the papers next to one scribble that was labelled 'doodoo.'  "You've got to be joking."  The scowl on your face was enough to get Zhongli to clear his throat in an effort to dissuade you from your anger.  You were an incredibly nice and patient person, but Zhongli's seen you angry once before.  It was not something he'd like to see again, and with every passing prank, you got closer and closer to snapping at your boss.

"My apologies," he sympathized.  He couldn't exactly keep up with the parlor director's childish ways either, after all.

That was three hours of my day.  You crumpled the papers in your hands before tossing them in the trash.  "Sorry to bother you Zhongli, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."

You took the long way back to the funeral parlor, making a point to walk across the docs that shouldered the sea.  It was well-deserved, you thought, since Hu Tao was constantly testing your patience and you had yet to snap.  If she really needed you today, she wouldn't have sent you on a needless hunt to deliver unnecessary documents.  So what if you showed up a little late now? It was her doing!

The docks were quiet with the occasional pigeons and seagulls cooing as they searched for their next meal--or their next pooping target.  A few pigeons scattered into the wind once you reached a railing that overlooked one of the merchant ships.  

It had been quite some time since your mother brought you across the sea to escape the influences of the Fatui in Snezhnaya--it had to be at least a decade by now, actually.  The Fatui that were stationed near your hometown were a reckless, malicious bunch, and weren't even kind to their own people despite their cohort existing to serve the people.

'To serve the people' was more like 'to serve the Tsaritsa.'  Neglect against her own people soon became a mutual feeling in your town.  She let her Fatui rats run about with no punishment for falling out of line...the audacity! A god is supposed to protect and nurture their people, not toss them aside or save them to be used.

The glimmering of the ocean below the deck only briefly dragged out out of your memories before you fell into them much like a wave washes over the beach.

You still remembered the day when your best friend went missing, and when he finally turned up ragged and dirty a few days later.  He never spoke of what happened, but it wouldn't surprise you if it had anything to do with the agents in your town.  He changed from a hesitant boy to a rambunctious, feisty kid--and the arrogance was insanely annoying.  But just as you tried to get closer to him, your mom decided his mysterious circumstances were what she needed to get herself and you out of Snezhnaya.

"I don't know what happened to you, Ajax, but I hope you're okay."

...........................................

Today's such a beautiful day!  You stretched your arms with content to get the aches of walking all morning out of your shoulders.  Slouching was a horrible habit of yours.  But no matter, it was time to celebrate! Hu Tao finally cut you loose from her list of unfortunate victims of her shenanigans, instead setting her sights on some exorcist that went by the name 'Chongyun.'  Since he wasn't related to the parlor's services--at least, not that you were aware--you didn't know him personally.

That poor soul has no idea what's coming to him, you think as you absently scan the papers in your hands that the parlor director had given you to give to Zhongli before the day's end--you had learned your lesson from last time, and inspected each stack she'd give you.  But as bad as I feel for him, I can't complain since I'm finally scot-free of her.

You made your way toward Liuli Pavilion, where Zhongli had informed you earlier this morning that he'd be conducting a meeting with one of the parlor's biggest funders.  There he is now! And...sitting alone?

"Mr. Zhongli?"  Your quiet interruption shifted his attention from the vivid storytelling of the storyteller to you.  "Did you have your meeting yet?"

"No, he should be arriving shortly," the consultant answered and placed his teacup down.  "What did you need me for?"

"Hu Tao sent me on another errand, er, a valid one this time.  I guess one of our customers was wondering what recommendations you had regarding these?"  A quick hand-off of the documents pertaining the names of precious stones, and Zhongli shut out the story of the ventures of Rex Lapis and his former companion, Azhdaha.

Your eyes left Zhongli for a moment and watched the storyteller's movements.  I've heard this one before.  Azhdaha was reprimanded for turning against humanity, wasn't he?  I wonder what that was like for our god.  To be betrayed by a close friend-

"I see.  Noticulous jade would be the best option considering it's vibrant purple tones, but the beauty of cor lapis when significantly refined to its utmost potential is a valid approach for the ceremony as well.  Why don't we purchase both?  You and I can inspect the nearby stores tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking if his answer is always 'We'll take them all,' your lips twitched from restraining a laugh and you returned your sights on the consultant.  "Alright, let's do that."

"Mr. Zhongli! It's great to see you," an unfamiliar man approached the table with a friendly smile.  "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."  The confidence that radiated from his stride was enough to make you shrivel up on yourself.  That, and the afternoon light that bounced off of his bright gray clothes half-blinded you.

"Not at all.  Please take a seat.  Reed, why don't you join us?"  Zhongli was aware of your intense opinions of the Fatui, but then again, who in Liyue didn't have a problem with the organization at the moment? Especially after their most recent incident with Osial...and the issue himself was sitting right across the table.  Perhaps meeting such a dangerous individual would dissuade you from pursuing that nighttime hobby of yours...

"Oh, I don't want to intrude.  Isn't this a private meeting?"

"I don't mind," said the red-headed stranger.

Zhongli gestured toward the third chair at the table, and you hesitantly obeyed.  A few minutes couldn't hurt.  You used the moment to get you situated and check out the guy to your left.  He didn't seem familiar, but he had this air about him that was...distinct, if that made any sense.  Familiar yet unfamiliar.  For someone being labelled as one of the most prominent sponsors of the funeral parlor, he didn't button his jacket properly, and a portion of his abdomen was visible while a hydro vision sat comfortably attached to his beltloop.  Or perhaps that was the way the jacket was designed?

Why am I even contemplating this? You peeled your eyes away from his torso in a hurry, and they settled on your hands in your lap.  Way to make a first impression.

"Reed, I would like to introduce you to Ma-"

"Ajax!"  Childe's voice overtook Zhongli's introduction.  "I go by Ajax, it's nice to meet you."  He held out a gloved hand for you to shake.  He didn't think it would be possible to ever see you again, not after your mom took you across the sea, so he spat out a lie without thinking.  Then again, even as a child you hated the Fatui--rightfully so-- so it wouldn't have been a good idea to introduce himself as the very harbinger that almost drowned Liyue.  Childe thought he had recognized you by your hair and the way you walked, but it was so long ago, and the memory of you had long since faded into a blurry image.  But 'Reed'...It couldn't be some coincidence that he met you here.

And by your reaction, he could say his intuition served him right.  "A-Ajax?"  You sat up taller than before, not quite comprehending the situation at first.  The name, the face, those blue eyes--it had to be him.  "Ajax from Snezhnaya?"

"I would hope I'm the only Ajax you know."  Childe shot you a friendly smile, but some smidge of jealousy lie in the depths of his otherwise vacant gaze. Perhaps it could even be considered threatening, or possessive.  He was the only Ajax you knew, right?

"Oh thank the archons you're alright," you released the breath you didn't know you were holding in.  It was all you managed to get out before remembering that a certain party was sitting to your right.  "O-Oh! Zhongli! We knew each other before I emigrated to Liyue-"

"Childhood friends," the harbinger grinned slightly as he met the consultant's confused yet stern gaze.  Something deadly flashed in his eyes, daring Zhongli to speak up and correct his own introduction.

Zhongli wasn't anywhere near afraid or intimidated by Childe, but despite this he did not reveal Childe's true identity.  Perhaps there was a reason the harbinger was posing as his younger self, like he was protecting the image of the perfect older brother for you just as he did with Teucer.

That, and Zhongli had vowed not to meddle in these types of matters just as he neglected to tell Childe he was the geo archon.  It was not his business if Childe chose to deceive you just as he deceived Childe, but if the harbinger posed a threat to you or anyone in Liyue again...Let's just say the passive Zhongli would put his foot down.

"I see," said Zhongli with a thoughtful gaze as he picked up his half-full cup of tea.  "May I inquire as how you two met?"

"Well," you leaned back in your seat and stared at one of the passing clouds as you attempted to recollect old memories.  "I don't remember exactly, but we ran into each other at one of the local markets that stood between our hometowns.  You should've seen him back then Zhongli, he was a nervous reck!"

Childe visibly grimaced at your bluntness, but Zhongli let out a low chuckle.  "Is that so?"  This earned a glare from the harbinger.

"Yes!  He was always second-guessing himself.  I was always the one wearing the pants in the friendship whenever we got to see each other!  And then..."  Your expression darkened as you remembered his disappearance, and his concerning change of attitude when he returned.  But just as quickly as the distasteful memory showed on your face, it was tossed away with a shake of the head.  "You know, there was one time where he had gotten in trouble with one of the local fisherman because he--"

"Now, now!"  Childe interrupted with a slightly aggressive--no, embarrassed--tone.  "I don't think Mr. Zhongli would be interested in--"

"On the contrary, I would be more than delighted to hear of Ajax's childhood stories," Zhongli sipped away at his tea, making a point to emphasize the new name while staring straight Childe.

"Aw, you embarrassed?"  Childe wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face for noticing.  He thought he was great at hiding his emotions, but with your surprise appearance, he was a bit more than caught off guard.  You covered your mouth and leaned toward Zhongli while whispering, "I'll tell you later, promise!"

Childe let out something of a strangled chuckle that made the corner of Zhongli's lips twitch upward.  "So, what have you been up to all this time?"

"Well, I've been working at the funeral parlor with Zhongli for the past year or so," you leaned back with a thoughtful gaze.  "I live by myself now; mom died a few years ago.  Oh, I've been training since I got here, too.  You can't trust the Fatui anywhere in Teyvat.  That, and anyone that roams around late at night.  Better safe than sorry."

"So you fight?"  Childe's eyes lit up like a fire was lit, and you smile turned into a frown.

"Don't tell me you're still..."  But with his slightly oblivious tilt of the head, you couldn't bring yourself to bring up that portion of your history.  Not yet.  "If need be, yes."  The best option was to change the subject, especially to spare Zhongli of what could possibly turn into an argument.  "How did you find yourself in Liyue?"

"I..."  A glance was sent briefly in Zhongli's direction, but he purposely ignored it.  "I'm a toy seller these days."

"Augh--"  A sputtered cough came from Zhongli, and he dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief.  "Ahem...Apologies, it appears I choked on a bit of tea."

After an awkward laugh escaped Childe, you turned back to him.  "A toy seller?  You?"  Was it relief you felt, or a feeling of on-edge?  Perhaps it'd be better if he turned out nice enough to become a toy seller, but with the way you two left things in Snezhnaya, you'd thought it be more likely that he'd end up arrested.  Or join the Fatui.  Or just anything involving violence.  Not sure of what to make of his words, you snapped to Zhongli.  "Wait, I thought you had a meeting with one of the benefactors of the funeral parlor?  Why would a toy seller be involved with us?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself," Zhongli set his empty teacup aside and faced Childe directly to bait him.  "You've never told me the story.  How did you find yourself involved with the parlor, Ajax?"

The hint of a smirk on the consultant's lips made the harbinger's blood boil even though he managed to keep his façade of a smile plastered on his face.  "Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details, it's an uninteresting story!"

"Tell me," you begged, eyes sparkling in anticipation.  "It might not be boring to us!"

"Yes, do tell," Zhongli encouraged.

You're enjoying this too much, Mr. Zhongli.  Childe did his best to hide his annoyance under his signature grin.

........................................

The sigh that escaped the harbinger once you left to finish your duties at the parlor prompted Zhongli to raise a brow at him.  "Shut up," Childe muttered without sparing a glance his way.  He knew you were hateful of the Fatui; that's most likely why he lied without a second thought, but as to why he'd bother doing so since you weren't close anymore was unknown.

At least, to Childe it was.  Zhongli had already figured it out by the lengthy conversation of Childe's extensive toy seller lie.  "You two were more than 'close' back in Snezhnaya, were you not?"  

"Don't overthink it Zhongli, we were only friends."

"And yet you wear your Harbinger status proudly on your sleeve."

"What're you implying?"  Childe, growing impatient and bored of the conversation, shifted in his seat.  You had left as their meals were served, so to his utmost horror, he now realized he was given chopsticks to use for his dish.  

"You also don't like deceiving others unlike your fellow harbingers."

A disgusted scoff left his lips as he lifted his chopsticks.  "...You think I, Tartaglia, am in love with a childhood friend?  My my my, Mr. Zhongli, it seems you've finally lost your marbles after living six thousand years. Perhaps living among humans has taken a toll on your wisdom."

"There are several reasons for which a person would lie."  Zhongli lowered his voice as the storyteller finished his monologue.  "The only one that would make sense after observing you for so long would be infatuation."

Childe had tuned him out by now, concentrating with furrowed brows on holding his dumplings correctly in-between his chopsticks.  But they were too heavy, what with his hand shaking the utensils, and they fell back on the plate with a wet plop.  Curse these stupid-  Childe nearly threw them at the building to his left, but restrained himself before he could lose to his frustrations.  Instead he used one chopstick to stab the dumpling and in an exasperated huff, shoved it into his mouth.

"So, what is the real reason you're back in Liyue?"  Zhongli set his third cup of tea aside after watching the pitiful struggle before him.  "It had sounded like you'd be in Snezhnaya for quite some time before returning, yet here you are only months after Osial."

"Oh," Childe sat up, only now remembering that what he had told you earlier was a drastic lie.  "I've been meaning to ask you about the matters I'm dealing with.  The Fatui here are fed-up with some...vigilante that interferes with their work here.  Whoever's at fault is clearly an amateur, but my subordinates here are apparently too incompetent to catch them.  They're stealing important documents from the Northland Bank, setting traps on the roadsides, and even breaking into our apartments to steal the agents' uniforms."

Zhongli cradled his chin in his hand while in deep thought.  He's heard of such a person; they often came to the parlor in the early morning hours to avoid getting caught since their living quarters were on the opposite side of town--he caught them more than once, out of breath, and dressed in black.

"--Basically the men are agitated at this point and threatening to leave their posts, and everyone's on edge because of another matter that may be related.  A few of our agents have gone missing with no trace, so I am here to locate them.  Whoever this vigilante is might know something; both occurrences started approximately three months ago."  Childe grabbed his last dumpling and ate it before leaning back in his seat.  "So, given that you are the wisest man in Liyue, I decided to come to you for advice.  Would you happen to know of anyone or anything involved?"

"Yes," Zhongli hummed, eyes downcast and settled on his folded hands.  "It's possible I hold information valuable to your search."

Childe's pupils lit up in delight.  "Oh?  Do enlighten me."

"But first, the vigilante is not related to your missing men," he took another sip of tea, lost in thought.  "And they are more or less an amateur seeking to disrupt Fatui operations, but they don't usually harm your agents--"

"That's inaccurate to say, Zhongli.  Last week three of my guys came back with broken noses or fractured arms."

--that I know of."  A pointed glare just made the harbinger lean forward against the table.

"You know who I'm searching for."

"Perhaps."

"Then spill."

"Am I really obligated to tell you based on your earlier behavior?"

"Mr. Zhongli, this person poses a serious threat to the health of my men, and potentially their lives.  Do you not care that human lives are at stake because of this...this...killer?"

Says the man who tried to drown my country.  "As usual, you are making brash assumptions.  They are not a killer, and they are not dangerous unless backed into a corner."

Childe was growing sick of beating around the bush, so he deadpanned.  "Zhongli."

The former archon let out a low sigh before meeting his gaze.  "As long as you remember what I just said, then I suppose I'll let you know.  The person you're searching for is the same person you lied to at this table."

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers: Part 5 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW. (It's finally happening.)

masterlist

Suguru stares at the screen in disbelief.

"I don't know what else to say," you breathe, eyes wide. "I think that we should go to the Grand Council or my parents and--"

"It's a hoax," he frowns, shaking his head. "None of this makes any sense. And I've seen fabricated shit like this before."

"But the timestamps!" you retort, pointing at the metadata.

"Those can be fabricated by using an old machine. You can't trust anything these days unless it comes from the Archives."

"But--"

"I think you need to delete these and forget about it. This is someone's sick idea of a joke, y/n." Suguru stands, scowling at the computer one last time before turning away. "I'll figure out who did this. Don't worry. Just delete that shit and don't mention it to anyone." Suguru stalks out of the room and you look at the files, dragging them to the trash before turning your computer off and trying to put it out of your mind.

_____________________________________________________________

You're back at the club with your friends, sitting among new faces and old ones just the same. But the nagging feeling that something isn't right is dragging across the pit of your stomach like a rake. When you glance at Suguru, he's laughing with his other Leviathan friends, but barely touching his only drink.

He must be unnerved by it, too, you think, and rub your forehead before watching Yuji try his best dance moves on Nobara, which fails miserably, of course. Yuki sits to your left, also watching the show with varying degrees of amusement before looking over at you.

"Why the long face, Ms. Successful? Is this too boring for you?" You consider telling her what's really bothering you, turning to her in the dim lighting and pressing your lips together. Her face changes and you know your secret can't be kept for long.

"What would you do if someone played a really bad prank on you?"

"What, did Suguru piss on your curtains?"

"Huh?" You look at her in shock, and she shrugs.

"Alright, maybe that's just a Toji thing. My bad." She sips her drink thoughtfully. "What kind of prank are you talking about?"

"Someone..." You hesitate, but decide to keep going anyways. "Someone put files on my computer to make it seem like my parents were involved with something called Project Kudzu and Project Redroot." Yuki frowns deeply, blinking rapidly.

"Y/n, I've never heard of those things before." You sigh, shaking your head. "Did they have any real proof?"

"Yeah, some audio files, two videos, and a bunch of TS-CO labeled documents that--" A hand lands on your shoulder, and you look up to see Suguru standing above you.

"That pre-game was wild, wasn't it?" Pre-game? "Sorry, Yuki. Y/n here had a whole bottle of red wine and played some weird game before coming. She's been going on about it to me for hours... projects and stuff." Yuki laughs, waving him off.

"It's okay! I was a little confused, too, but I get it. Girl," she turns to you, shaking her head. "You should probably go home and get some rest. If I had known you were drunk already I would've--"

"I'm not drunk," you reply, looking back and forth between Suguru and Yuki. "I swear, I'm not--"

"Let me get you home, party girl," Suguru mumbles, pulling you up from your seated position and gripping your hand tightly as he drags you along with him. "It's been a long day."

"But I'm not--" The look Suguru gives you is deadly, and you shut your lips as he takes you to the car you both came in, opening your door silently. You slide into the seat and he shuts the door with force, climbing into the driver's seat, but not starting the car. He grips the steering wheel and clenches his jaw, finally muttering,

"Didn't I tell you not to say anything to anyone?"

"Suguru, this has been bothering me for days! I don't know what to do!"

"I'm trying to find out who would break into your room and do this to you. Can you let me work?" he asks tersely. "For once in your life, can you let someone look out for you?" His black eyes are blazing in the dim light of the parking lot, and your bottom lip quivers.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he exhales, starting the car. "I just... I just need you to let me figure this out. Someone isn't playing nice in our own organization and if it comes at the expense of my partner, I'm not having it. Lay low for me for a while, got it?" Suguru places his hand on your thigh and you nod, feeling your heart pick up an uneven rhythm. Your mouth goes dry at his lingering touch, but before you can think about it any further, he removes his hand and pulls out of the parking lot to take both of you back to the base.

When you get back to your barracks, you pause in the living room, looking over at your Leviathan as he removes his leather jacket and deposits it on the couch, sighing. You slowly approach him from behind and touch his back, which makes him flinch a little.

"I don't know why you continue to put up with my antics," you murmur and he huffs a breath out, shaking his head. "But thank you for saving my ass... and for looking out for me." Suguru turns to you, his lips quirking up a bit.

"Little Ms. Successful is thanking me for my service? Are you drunk?" Your cheeks heat up at the nickname and you roll your eyes, about to turn away from him when he catches your wrist. "Don't do that," he breathes, bringing you in close so your chests are touching. Your breathing hitches and he raises his knuckles, grazing them over your cheek. You close your eyes at the contact, and he slides his fingers down to your chin, tilting it up and humming softly.

"Open your eyes," Geto whispers, and you do so, trying your best not to seem too flustered. He leans down, brushing his lips across yours for permission, and your close your eyes again, letting him kiss you. When his lips separate from yours, he touches your nose with his, and you raise up on your tiptoes to feel his lips on yours again. "Are you sure you want to do that?" he wonders as you pull away. You nod your head, and he laughs softly.

"I do want to keep kissing you, yes," you reply, and he wraps a hand around your waist, lifting you off your feet and wrapping your legs around him.

"Nothing good comes of that," he warns, but you scoff.

"I'd beg to differ."

And that's how you find yourself on his neatly made bed, legs pushed up to your chest as Suguru greedily laps at your cunt like a starving man. "Su..." you moan, and he grunts in response. "That feels so good."

"I bet it does," the Leviathan replies, raising his brow at you salaciously before flicking your clit with his tongue. Your toes curl painfully as he dips a finger into you, then raises it up to your lips, tugging your mouth open so you can taste yourself. You suck on the digit with pleasure, humming when he pulls it back out and finger fucks you while sucking on your clit.

You buck under his grip, but he raises off of you, denying you an orgasm so soon. Geto kisses you deeply, swiping his tongue across yours so you can taste yourself again, then sits up, motioning for you to do the same.

"You want to do this?"

"Yeah." Suguru pulls his long hair up with an elastic and removes his pants, climbing back onto the bed and sitting against the headboard. He pulls you into his lap and raises you up, allowing you to grasp his hard length before sliding onto it carefully.

"Easy, easy..." he hisses, and you slow down, taking him inch by inch. You place your arms around his neck and rock back and forth, closing your eyes when you feel all of him nestled inside of you. Suguru groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head forward onto your shoulder. "Hold on, I'm gonna lay on my back." You allow him to slide forward, and he pushes you down onto his chest with a broad hand before pumping into you methodically.

"Oh, god..." you moan, and Suguru exhales shakily. "Su, you feel amazing."

"Say it a little louder so our neighbors can hear you," he jokes, but you clench around him and his laughter is cut short. "Fuck!" The man beneath you smacks your ass, and you yelp in response. "Keep doing that and this will be over faster than you can spell your own name."

"Then fuck me and quit being a smart ass," you gripe. Suguru shrugs and mutters,

"You asked for it." before slamming his hips into your ruthlessly. You cry out at the sensations his pace brings, and he grips your wrist as you lift off of him, holding your left hand against his chest. "Stay right here, princess. I'm not letting you go for shit." Your mouth seems to maintain its "O" shape the entire time he's fucking you senseless, and you can't say a word, eyes crossing and making you see double of your partner.

"Oh, god," you finally shudder, and Suguru lets go of your hand to lean you back down, mouth latching on one of your breasts.

"Cum for me," Geto challenges you before going back to sucking on your nipples relentlessly. You feel something inside of you break - almost like a busted dam releasing a flood of sensations and emotions that you've held at bay since you arrived here. "Oh, you're doing so good," Suguru grunts, holding you as you tremble fiercely while his hips stutter. "Just let it all go."

And for some reason, tears - actual tears - come out of your eyes as if this sexual release also broke your heart in two.

"Did I hurt you?" Suguru asks, swiping at your tears with a worried expression.

"No," you reassure him, shaking your head fiercely. "Not at all."

"Hmmm..." He rests your head against his chest as his breathing slows, hands stroking your back and hair with care. "You've had a hard couple of days. Just rest, alright? I'll be here when you wake up." So, you fall asleep, trusting your partner who's never betrayed you before.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut@r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23@rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x13)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 13: That One Stranger

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: eep sorry

Word Count: last weekend was a blast!! My cousins, my brother’s best friend, all of us gathered and karaoked while drunk. Bro’s bestie even brought dad in for a song and two and broke a few glasses coz he was THAT drunk. Poor dude even apologised for that.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera was coloured in darkness when it heard a troubled and tired whine. It took a second or two to come out of someone's backpack- quite possibly Javier's- to record you nearly lying over a rhino-like alien with a dinosaur-like tail. Your eyes looked sad and frustrated, your limbs tired- hanging on either side of the slow creature carrying on its own pace. A scarf was thrown over your head that ended up covering your face, making the camera shift towards the tall figure of Loki walking beside the new transportation service. His figure- with the usual black jeans and equally black shirt- was covered in a cloak that protected him from the harsh rays of the neighbouring star. "They're gone. Stop whining," he ordered without even looking at you. "The only  breathing insane person you need is me."

Lulu, who was sitting over your back now, was enjoying the languid bumpy ride through the desert that was filled with little crowds around the oasis -found around every two kilometres- while his camera recorded Javier sitting on his rhino facing you guys. You pulled the scarf away from your face and pouted, letting your face rest in your palms. "But they are all so cute." A blink later you turned your eyes towards Loki and smirked. "OoooOoooh!-" you deepened your voice- "'The only breathing insane person you need is me'-" and then squirmed out loud- "you naughty-naughty. You teasing me. You naughty-naughty!" Loki turned to face you, his steps so in sync that he was right next to your face the whole time his eyes kept yours captured. "What exactly is it that made my words tease you, darling?" All the playful giggle vanished as soon as it had come. You felt your body straighten at that smirk running wild over his lips while Javier's camera caught the change in the shade of your face.

You: *annoyed* You have to be really careful how you go about joking around with Loki 'cause that son of a bitch can turn anything into something sexual. *looks at the camera* *feels a shiver go down your body*

Loki: It is *stresses* so easy to make Y/N uncomfortable. All I have to do is make her think I am thinking something impermissible and then sit back to watch her fumble. *chuckles* It's one of my many talents. *feels a confidence boost*

"You are so annoying sometimes," you muttered under your breath while scratching an itch on the back of your neck. "Sometimes I forget you get a high out of making people miserable." "Oh, no. The high is solely out of annoying you," Loki pointed out innocently. Grabbing one end of the scarf, you flipped it in the air to smack Loki's back with it. "You do not deserve any of the lava cakes I make in the future!" "Thank the Norns. They kept giving me the worst pains." "You sonova-" Another flick of your scarf was easily caught by the God to pull you towards him. You nearly fell on his chest if not for your hands landing on those pecs first.

You: *mouth opened in an 'o'* *blinks slowly* I think I grabbed his boobies. *purses lips* *thinks for a long moment* *camera pans in* *raises brows* those are some really hard boobies.

"What." Even when you were sitting on the rhino- who came to a standstill on its own at the moment, clearly sensing some heat in the moment- Loki did not have to bend his beck even a smidge to stare right into your soul. "What," you spat back a bit hesitantly, trying your best to fume, taking your hands away from his body to hide them somewhere before they were executed for their crimes. "You are being quite bold these days," he commented while wrapping the scarf around his hand, never letting his gaze falter. "I was always bold-" you shrugged- "especially when it came to anything that had to do with you." Loki chuckled. And licked his lips. The camera caught the one strong inhale you took in. "What did you expect would happen in the long run? That I would go all soft and mushy on you like those fangirls you have on earth? Stand outside your home and shout-" "Loki?" The voice wasn't yours. You could never carry that kind of sultry weight in your throat even if you wanted to. It felt like it had come with the wind. Or maybe an echo? It wasn't until you looked at Javier's camera that you looked behind you and found a woman dressed in red standing within inches of you, giving you a mini heart attack, leading to one great fall. Loki could have broken your fall if he wanted to but from the look in his eyes, he was stuck on the woman he was seeing standing a few feet away from him. Lulu's camera caught this woman perfectly. From every angle, she looked human. Her pale skin was akin to a glass moulded in the shape of a Goddess. Her thin lips were coloured a shade of purple. Her eyes a shade of blue that was darker than usual. They were less of an ocean and more of a pool hidden in the caverns that were bottomless and unexplorable. A red cloak covered her head- except for a few strands of silver hair- and the rest of her body. It was not hard to miss for the cameras recording a couple of things that happened in a little span of time; like the slipping of your scarf from Loki's hands, the rhinos excusing themselves from the scene, the nervous fluffing up of Lulu at the sight of this stranger, the sudden chill in the air in the middle of the desert making the animals- and you- shiver. On top of that, the piercing rays of the nearest star seemed to get dull by the second till the camera realised there were clouds gathering above them out of bloody nowhere.

"Is that really you? Loki...son of Odin...and son of Laufey?" "It's Freya," you whispered, internally correcting this stranger who was visibly making you quite uncomfortable. "It has been a while." She completely ignored you if she heard that. Her smile seemed to stretch from one ear to another at the sight of the God- who was evidently the only thing she wanted to see. "Aellae." It was not the name itself that produced the moment but the way it came out to make you turn towards Loki. 

You: *frown at the void* It was almost like he was recalling something he had...lost. Like that one book that you repeatedly read and then it just disappeared one day only for you to find out that you had yourself kept it in an ultimate secret place that you yourself forgot about. So, when you find it you feel guilty for facing it again. *breathless* *camera pans in* *looks at Javier* does this make sense? *blinks at Javier who is signing something* *frowns harder* What do you mean why it's gotten me all worked up? I mean *stutters and points in the distance*  *camera pans in Loki and Aellae standing in the distance looking at each other and not really talking much* W-who knows what's the history there. Like is she a friend or foe? Or a fr-o. *camera pans back on your face* *tsks* of course, this doesn't make sense. None of this does. *looks at the pair and crosses her arms* *fumes at no one in particular*

"I thought I-" "Lost me?" Aellae simply smiled. "You should know better than that. After all, it is me, my love." There was no hesitation in the movement of your eyes when you looked at Loki for an answer to that statement. If it wasn't for the brilliant observation of this talented boy named Javier, one would not have caught the slight movement of his eyes when he wanted to glance at you from his peripheral vision while taking in a lungful. "My love," you stressed that last word to make sure Loki understood the question scratching beneath the sarcasm. There was a slight roll of his eyes followed by him completely closing them for one elongated moment. "I have been waiting for this day," Aellae continued, making a part of you itch for completely ignoring your presence, "when I finally found you again." The tilt of her head and that hollow gaze that tried to be soft gave her an eerie touch. "And to think I was only living on your memories till now." Aellae took a step forward and stopped when she found the God taking the lead with this one. In this situation, the angle mattered a lot. Because from where Lulu stood- right on your shoulder- it looked as if this stranger had taken a step where could she step right where the distance between her and you two was the same.  From where Javier stood, his camera saw Loki step towards Aellae while completely blocking you from the boy's view. But what he did record was Loki bringing forward his hands for her. That hollowness in her eyes suddenly swirled into an ounce of mild ecstasy. when she put her hands in his and felt his thumbs rest on top of the back of her palms. "It has been one long while," he concluded, forcing Javier to walk- with quite the struggle- in the sand to pan in on this confusion fused with this piercing hint of disappointment on your face.

"I'm sorry," you sputtered, "come again?" "Title of your sex tape," he muttered under his breath. "Hm?" Aellae turned in question. "Nothing, my dearest," the God assured her before turning to answer your question. "I said you are on your own now. Look for a cavern at one of the oasis and they will drop you at a shelter. Hopefully." Your head did feel the just of surprise even though the last twenty seconds of their hand-holding had you all ready for a surprise. Words were being a stubborn bitch in your lungs- never escaping your mouth right this moment and all your could do was exhale and mock a burst of laughter at those words. "And then? And then what?" Your heated brain really could not think of anything else. Loki shrugged.

You: *shouting* THAT SON OF A BITCH SHRUGGED!!! *pointing at yourself* AT ME!!!

"I don't know. Look for a rainbow." Without another word, he turned back towards the woman. Just like that. The only sound was that of the wind running through the desert as you, Javier and Lulu watched Loki walk away with this strange creature. It took a minute for the little one figure out, for when he did, he pressed his stomach and stood up on your shoulder, his heart beating faster than it usually did. And when the realisation dawned on him, Lulu jumped to the ground to take a few steps in Loki's direction and yell for him to come back.

'Member the way You used to say I was your meaning? You'd always need me

You just stood there, dried lips parted, eyes shrinking under the gaze of the star, arms dangling with nearly no life in them. For a second there, Javier felt you were about to fall, for Lulu's camera caught the boy come to your side, ready for anything that was bound to happen.

Did you forget What that shit meant? You were my answer You were what mattered

But all you did was stand there with disappearing emotions just like those two disappeared with the last sand dune in front of you. With the last silhouette of Loki gone in sand, you closed your eyes, worrying your companions for that stretched moment. 

Lived at your place Know the way that I taste Yeah, you know things Yeah, you know things

"He knows," you whispered to yourself, your brows furrowing together, your fingers curling into fists.

I met your mom Even got us a dog That ain't nothing, oh

A piercing scream came out of your lungs making the little floof jump five feet into the air to land away from you while Javier's camera recorded his three-second jolts before falling straight down from his hands.

Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me, know Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me

"HE FUCKING KNOWS!!!!" Your voice was at the edge of a massive breakdown, shaking while your eyes blurred themselves in this uncontrollable rage. 

You always will

"That son of a bitch knows how bad it is for me alone in a strange land," you croaked, trying to kick some sand with your boots. Javier signed something from outside the frame to you. "Hey, you're not alone. I'm here too," Lulu's camera caught his words. You looked at him for five seconds. "You lost your socks while sleeping on your first day. You were wearing those bloody socks." Javier- clearly offended but also guilty- mocked a gasp as he took a few steps away from you. The soft strings of guitar added to the air around you looking in the distance where nothing could be seen now. No one. Sand for infinity and a few oases that did not lead to him.

.

Feet were dragged through the stubborn sand that let won't you walk straight. All the effort that was going into being angry was now running down towards your legs. But that did not stop you from fuming so hard that the camera could catch the difference in your features. 

See, I know What it is, what it is, what it is, babe

But as the camera panned over your face, it seemed more of a sullen sulk and less of that rage you had just shown. 

See, I know What it is, what it is

And were those tears in your eyes that you were trying to blink away? That you were trying to hide from Javier as much as possible?

Let me miss What it is, what it is, what it isn't Let me miss it Let me miss it

Giving up, you walked towards the first oasis in your way, populated generously by desert animals and a few nomads.  The tents seemed somewhat similar to those you found on earth except for the spherical air pockets surrounding them to keep them cool. One of the nomads was kind enough to open the doorway for you and bow down in their own way, making the rainbow stone in his necklace reflect the starlight right into your eyes as you entered the place. "Did some order a seven-spice rainbow with a generous dash of sexy on the side?" The light that has just left your eyes came back with a sweet gasp. "My White Knight!" you nearly choked on your own joy. .

The camera felt itself shake when the rainbow drink was kept on the table. Thanking White, you dragged the sparkly fizzy thing towards you to get a taste. "So-" White furrowed his brows licked his lips in a thought- "you're saying Loki did leave you but he did not leave you." You just nodded, your lips not ready to leave the straw. "Easy," White ordered with a serious face, receiving a pinch from Green and Orange sitting next to him without looking away from you. Both of them seemed to be caught in a sweet trance that was clearly you. And when you finally did leave the straw, the elated sigh of a content throat made both of them close their eyes and smile. "Oh, God! This is so goooood," you exclaimed as no voice came out of you. "Y/N," your White Knight called out to you, "focus." You set the drink down and straighten yourself. "Yes, sir," you whispered. "Not that much of focus," he muttered while clearing his throat, adjusting himself where he sat. Violet rolled his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean when you say he did not leave you?" You looked at Violet and put your hands on the table. "I mean that I don't think he went with that woman....goddess...witch...whatever...on his own. I think he was kinda kidnapped." All the boys- except Orange- shared a look with each other. Orange was just too engrossed in you at this point. "Are you sure he just didn't go on his own?" Green stressed. "He would be one dumb bitch to leave me alone like that," you nearly shouted before going for that unicorn juice again. "There must've been a reason." Orange nodded vigorously in agreement. "Very dumb bitch," he tsked. "Because he knows I will kill him if he did-" you sipped the cold fizz- "and if I didn't, our family definitely will." The camera panned in the emotion of slight disbelief White felt as his eyes remained hollow while that smile was still stuck on his face. It took him a few seconds to bring himself to mutter, "our...family," and scratch an itch on his neck. "So," you burped and excused yourself, "before anyone from my home flies here just to kill him, I am going to rescue him." "Whaaa-at?" Sky mutters from behind the bar counter. "Help you go after some strange and powerful witch that we have absolutely no idea about?" Javier's camera- which Javier had in his hand as he stood right behind Sky- recorded the endless stash of weapons and potions kept behind the bar right there within Sky's reach. The camera especially zoomed in on the one bundle of spears marked 'Witch skewers: Do not wash, Do not touch. Poisonous'. "And that too on such a short notice?" Sky faked a laugh.

Sky: *tired* Of course we know Loki's been kidnapped. White: *casually* Of course, we'll help Y/N. Violet: *stone face* I'm down to hunt some bad girls any day. White: *sighs* I really wish we could leave him with his kidnapper though. *pause* *everyone mumbles in agreement* *silence resumes around the table* Orange: *thinking while looking at the void* but that would make Y/N sad. *nods and pouts around the table* Red: Once we rescue him, let's kidnap Y/N. *hums of agreement around the table*

"Okay-" you place the empty glass on the table and get up to look around the table before looking into Javier's camera, "let's go save a God today."

[187days]

Day One Hundred Forty-Seven

Oh man, today was the Monday-est Monday ever. It was a mess. Let me take it block by block...

Block 1: my plan was to show Shake Hands With the Devil, which I have on DVD because it’s a Canadian film and it wasn’t available on any streaming services here in the US (spoiler: it is now, but I didn’t know that at 8:05 this morning). I had my DVD player hooked up to my projector, but I couldn’t get the sound to work. Tried a different projector, still couldn’t get it to work. Tried hooking the DVD player up to the classroom TV, nope. My students were very patient with me, and a few of the tech savvy ones tried to help, it was very sweet of them. At one point, I joked that I’d never felt so old as I did in that moment, not being able to make the technology work, and that got me a few laughs. Finally, I decided to check if I could find the movie online, and, whew! It’s on Amazon Prime now. So I got a copy and then everything was fine, and I may have done a victory dance and gotten applause. All’s well that ends well, I guess? 

Block 2: One of my students came up to me during the bell change and tried to convince me to let him watch the movie without parental permission (which isn’t allowed because it’s R-rated), which was made funnier by the fact that The Principal was STANDING RIGHT THERE (he’d come to ask how the track team did at the relay meet on Saturday). I was like, “Kid, I’m not breaking the rules, and I’m definitely not breaking them in front of my boss.” Luckily, though, he was able to call his mom and get permission. However, about ten minutes into the movie he took out his cell phone to play games, I told him to put it away, and he asked if he could just go sit in the office because he “wasn’t interested in learning this.” I’ve been a teacher for seventeen years now, and that was a first for me. I bit back a laugh and said no, but I was kind of shocked for the rest of the block that he’d even thought there was a chance I’d say yes to that. The movie and its sound worked, though, so yay for that.

Block 3: I went over the last test I gave with my students, and discussed what went well and what they could do to improve.... and totally misread one of my own test questions. Luckily, a student caught my error and I corrected myself quickly. That was still messy, though. Also, at the end of the block, a few of them were discussing a recent car crash (drunk driver survived, passenger did not, both are graduates of our school), and I cautioned them to speak a bit more carefully because there are students in the building who have ties to both the driver and the passenger. And one said, “Wait, to the driver, too?” and I realized they either hadn’t seen the driver’s name, or hadn’t connected who he’s related to, so... awkward reveal there. But my students were glad I told them because, obviously, they don’t want to hurt anyone unintentionally. 

Block 4: The movie still worked! Woohoo! But a student from another class attempted to interrupt mine to grab a football from one of my students, and did not understand why I stopped him at my classroom door and told him he couldn’t come in and do that in the middle of my class. 

These kids are wild sometimes, y’all...

So, yeah, it was a messy, messy day for me. A bunch of my sprinters said it was for them, too, and we agreed it’s all because it’s a Monday after a holiday and we should’ve just had the say off. And, of course, anytime someone screwed up a warm-up drill, someone else would yell, “Monday!” and everyone would laugh. So, y’know, at least we’re all in good spirits. 

[vex-bittys]

Imagine the Possum-bilities: An Underfell Story (part 1)

Note: This story is based on this artwork commissioned by @melodyrider.

Red went dumpster diving for leftovers, but instead he found a friend. Good thing his brother is so open-minded and accepting, otherwise things could go hilariously wrong!

Doom and Gloom

"WHAT," squawked Edge, jabbing one long phalanx at the narrow white face poking out of Red’s jacket, “IS THAT?” Unblinking beady black eyes met glowing red eyelights. A tiny pink nose, bristling with whiskers, twitched.

“it’s mine is what it is,” said Red with a cooler-than-thou attitude. The creature added a hiss of agreement. Red and his jacket passenger brushed past Edge and walked into the house. Doomfanger, Edge’s large white cat, eyed both of them skeptically from her palatial cat tree.

“YOU CAN’T BRING THAT THING INTO OUR HOUSE,” protested Edge. Ignoring him, Red bent down and unzipped his jacket. His passenger waddled out onto the floor, long hairless tail raised as if it owned the place. Doomfanger and Edge emitted nearly identical huffs of indignation.

“you have Doomfanger,” Red pointed out. “and now I have-” Red paused for only a fraction of second to contemplate “- Gloomfanger.” Gloomfanger chirped in a very un-gloomy manner, much to Red's delight. 

While his brother sputtered his outrage from the front door, Red crouched, fishing what had once been a piece of gourmet burger from Grillby's out of his pocket. Unlike a fine cheese or wine, the meat did not age well in its lint-lined improvised cellar.  Red tossed the morsel to Gloomfanger, who gobbled it down happily.

"SANS! SANS, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" Red was, in fact, far too fascinated by Gloomfanger's precious little hand paws to do anything more than half listen to his brother's tirade, but he could tell that proverbial steam must be shooting out of Edge's ear canals. "YOU CAN'T JUST BRING THAT… THAT THING INTO OUR HOUSE!"

In addition to the perceived ear steam, Red could hear his brother's characteristic foot stomping behind him. He ignored Edge’s antics, choosing to focus on Gloomfanger's needle-sharp teeth as the hairy creature open-mouth chewed more pocket offerings, and threw his answer over his shoulder in an officious voice. "he's an opossum, Boss. and his name's Gloomfanger."

“WHERE DID YOU EVEN FIND SOMETHING LIKE THAT?” Edge gestured at Gloomfanger. The possum, not overly fond of the conversation’s tone or the wild gesturing, scurried under the couch to hide. Curious and equally done with the drama, Doomfanger followed.

“in the dumpster behind Grillby’s,” explained Red as if it should be obvious that one found pets by dumpster diving.

“WHY, EXACTLY, WERE YOU IN THE DUMPSTER BEHIND GRILLBY’S?”

“the second i walked in, Grillby was all like ‘pay your tab’ and ‘stop butt scooting across the floor’ like he owns the place.”

“HE DOES OWN THE PLACE.”

“yeah, well, he also throws out perfectly good leftovers as soon as monsters stop eating ‘em! i didn’t want to deal with Grillbs, so i headed out back for some chow. when i looked in the dumpster, i saw Gloomy laying on a plate of fries that were still warm! i thought he was dead, and he smelled terrible…”

“SO YOU DECIDED TO RESUSCITATE IT?” Edge interrupted incredulously. 

“what? no. i picked him up to move him so i could get the fries, and he resuscitated himself! he climbed right into my jacket and made himself at home, so i snagged the fries and we shared them.”

Edge just sighed, at a complete loss for words. His disgusting brother deserved an equally disreputable and unkempt pet to share his garbage-eating tendencies with. Gloomfanger would feel right at home in Red’s disaster of a bedroom. Speaking (or rather thinking) of Gloomfanger…

“where’d Gloomfanger go?”

“IS YOUR DISGUSTING TRASH BEAST UNDER THE SOFA WITH MY DARLING DOOMFANGER?”

Eyelights bulging, Edge leapt onto the coffee table, grabbed the couch with both hands and upturned it, flinging it into the back wall of their living room. Doomfanger and Gloomfanger blinked up at him, then Doomfanger resumed grooming the possum’s round, hairless ears and purring. The possum made a grumbling sound that resembled the purr in the same way that the possum itself resembled the primped and preened Doomfanger.

Edge narrowed his sockets at Gloomfanger. “I’M WATCHING YOU,” he warned, using two slender phalanges to point to his sockets then to Gloomfanger. Gloomfanger regarded him coolly and burped.

Snorting, Red started up the stairs to prepare a spot in his aforementioned disaster of a room for his new pet to sleep. He stopped halfway up to call for Gloomfanger. “my bro’s watchin’ you,” he reminded the possum in a stage whisper, “so don’t go knockin’ her up or anything.”

The garbage-gobbling pair darted the rest of the way up the stairs with Edge’s outraged screeches chasing behind them.

Red spent the next hour sifting through piles of unwashed clothing, sorting them into new configurations until he had some passably clean blankets, sheets, and a few towels crammed haphazardly into his closet as a private nesting place for Gloomfanger. Gloomy climbed onto the pile, stomped it down to a serviceable height, and chirped in satisfaction. Red watched proudly as the possum pulled itself into a possum-loaf shape- yet another rough-around-the-edges mimicry of one of Doomfanger’s common behaviors.

As he crawled into bed (a mattress on the floor with a nest similar to Gloomfanger’s strewn across it), Red smiled to himself. His brother had Doomfanger, and now he had a pet too. Red didn’t dislike the spoiled feline, but he sometimes resented her, which was much different than being jealous of her, at least in his mind. Before Doomy arrived on their doorstep in the middle of a blizzard one night, it had just been him and his bro, two skeleton brothers against the dangerous world.

From babybones to stripes, Red had been a protective older brother, making sure that Edge never lacked anything despite the struggles that they both faced. Edge grew into a powerful and capable adult monster, but he still leaned on his big brother when he needed someone to confide in. Red cherished his position in Edge’s life. Very few monsters in their universe could boast having any sort of close bond with another monster… and then the little white ball of fluff showed up like a snow poff sprung to life and changed things.

If he were being completely honest and not at all in denial, Red would admit that he now needed Edge much more than his brother needed him. Instead, he half-heartedly blamed Doomfanger for replacing him. Edge would stroke her silky fur whenever he felt upset or pressured by his position in the Royal Guard. Edge also gave her an abundance of his doting, doting that had once exclusively fallen onto Red. Red shared all of these hidden thoughts (and a few of his favorite jokes) with his new companion, Gloomfanger. 

Now Red wouldn’t rely on Edge as much, just the same way that Edge no longer relied on him. It served his brother right, in his opinion.

Meanwhile, Edge busied himself tidying up the living room. The coffee table drooped a bit, but the couch had survived its assault remarkably well. While her owner righted the furniture he had displaced, Doomfanger made an admirable bound back onto her cat tree throne to oversee the work from an appropriately lofty elevation.

Edge brushed himself off to remove the nonexistent dirt of a job well done and surveyed the living room. His eyelights came to rest on Doomfanger, and he found himself comparing her to Red’s unsightly new pet. Doomfanger oozed grace and majesty. The pure white feline was perfectly groomed, perfectly regal, and perfectly ferocious, just like a certain tall, dark, and handsome skeleton. Gloomfanger reeked, looked perpetually much worse for wear, and probably had no idea what the word grooming even meant. The gears in Edge’s mind turned, and a deep meaning floated around just past the reach of clear conscious thought.

Edge ignored the potential epiphany. He went into the kitchen and dug around under the sink until he found an old bowl of Doomfanger’s, a simple shiny metal dish that Edge had quickly replaced with something more elegant for his pampered cat. It would do nicely for what he had in mind though. 

Red stumbled tiredly into the kitchen the next morning, scratching his tailbone and squinting against the bright light. Gloomfanger waddled contentedly at his heels making a variety of grunting sounds that proved to be indiscernible from Red’s own. Red pulled up short when he saw the gleaming metal dish next to Doomfanger’s… full to the brim with the same expensive food that Edge gave his beloved pet. Gloomfanger bumped into the back of Red’s legs and gave an irritated squeak.

“what’s with the extra food there, Boss?” Edge ignored Red’s use of his babybones nickname, a name Red only used to annoy him or disguise those pesky affectionate emotions.

“IT’S NOTHING,” Edge snapped, using a very similar tactic to distract his brother from the act of kindness and acceptance. “I JUST DON’T WANT THAT DIRTY ANIMAL STEALING ANY OF DOOMFANGER’S FOOD IS ALL.”

“riiiiiiiight.”

Gloomfanger’s nose twitched, and the possum shuffled forward to investigate the gourmet chow. Doomfanger stepped up to her dish, and together, the two animals began to eat. Edge and Red both took seats at their kitchen table. Soon two creatures that embodied class sat side-by-side with two unsavory but lovable creatures to dine in companionable silence.

Instead of widening the rift between the skeleton brothers, Gloomfanger’s presence laid the foundation for a bridge to be built over it.

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[hphmmatthewluther]

Matthew Luther and the Riddle of Easter

7th April, 1985:

It was a Sunday, and everyone at Hogwarts was either busy enjoying themselves or furiously studying for their exams. Well, almost everyone. For in the West wing of the Castle, up in Ravenclaw Tower, there was one person still in their bed. He wasn’t asleep, but he didn’t exactly want to get out of bed. Matthew Luther didn’t really feel like there was much of a point. If he did, he would either get dozens of looks for being Jacob Luther’s brother, or be pestered by the Slytherins again. As far as he was concerned, it was best to avoid all of that. For the past three years, it appeared that God had been playing an awfully long-winded joke on him. So there he laid, trying not to think about anything, forcing himself to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, there was a noise. A loud, piercing screech. It sounded like a cat of some kind. It was probably Mrs Norris, Matthew thought, covering his ears with the pillow. If he hadn’t, he would have heard several tiny footsteps moving towards the dormitory door, followed by a click. He finally noticed when the door swung open, filling the room with light.

“Gah!” Matthew exclaimed, squinting to see that the only thing in the doorway was a cat. It wasn’t Mrs Norris, that was for sure. This one had large, green eyes and ginger hair, and it didn’t hiss at a moments’ notice. It walked up to the bed, and started to mew at the first-year.

“...Oh, what? What is it?” Matthew asked, pushing himself over to see the cat. It looked at him, right at him, before glancing up at his desk. On it was Matthew’s wand, books, and his silver bracelet. In a flash, the ginger cat jumped up and swiped it, scampering out of the room with the bracelet in its mouth.

“H-Hey!” yelled Matthew, quickly forcing the duvet off of him, grabbing his wand and heading off after the cat. He followed it down the stairs and into the Ravenclaw Common Room, and into the many bookshelves that made up Ravenclaw Tower. The cat headed deep into the tower, until it came to a stop several minutes later near an alcove with several blue lanterns and cushions. It sat down on one of these cushions, keeping the bracelet under its claws. Slowly, Matthew approached the animal, now exhausted thanks to having chased it down here.

“There’s got to be a better way to do this...” he said to himself, moving closer. And then it hit him. He was going about this all wrong. I always am, he thought, stopping in his tracks. Cautiously, he moved his hand forward, not towards the bracelet, but to the cat’s head. It hesitated for a moment, sniffing the hand, before allowing Matthew to stroke its head, moving its claws away from the silver. He didn’t grab it instantly, and instead sat down on one of the cushions, continually stroking the cat. Eventually, it moved onto his lap, and Matthew finally grabbed his bracelet and put it on. He gave a sigh of relief as he felt the cold metal touch his skin.

“Ah, you’re not so bad.” he admitted, as he started to give the cat chinny rubs. It purred loudly in his lap. “I wonder who you belong to.”

“He belongs to nobody.” came a woman’s voice. Matthew snapped his head up, and the cat remained still in its lap. In front of them was a silvery figure in a resplendent dress, with long brown hair going past the shoulders. She had the tiniest of smiles on her face. Matthew gasped.

“It’s you...” he began, “The Ghost of Ravenclaw Tower...Helena Ravenclaw.” he said, remembering Chester informing him that she didn’t like the name “The Grey Lady”. And honestly, who would?

“I am glad that you solved my riddle. It’s a favourite of those eager to find a suitor who has both intelligence and kindness, and faith in their soul.” Helena explained, “Take good care of it.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. “You- You’re giving me a cat? W-What? W-Why?” he stammered, looking down at the cat’s green eyes.

“I felt that you require a companion that is immune to human inventions such as rumour, or scandal.” Helena said, gliding closer to the window. “Things that you know too well.”

Matthew nodded. “You can say that again.” The cat got off of his lap and pounced up to the windowsill. The Ravenclaw got up and moved towards it too, to see whatever it was that had caught their attention. From here, they could see a great deal of Hogwarts, including the Clocktower Courtyard. There, he could make out a large crowd of people surrounding two people. One of them was a nervous-looking Gryffindor, and the other was a wild-haired Slytherin.

“Ben and Merula!” Matthew exclaimed, “Oh no...”

“Ah, yes. I believe the Snyde girl has been one of the most eager to find the Cursed Vaults.” Helena observed. “Besides you, of course. I must ask, is this why you have shut yourself here?”

Matthew’s expression soured even more so. The cat nuzzled his shoulder. “That’s..that’s not it. It’s just...well, it’s Easter.”

“Indeed it is.” confirmed Helena, looking down at the boy.

“Well, it’s just...we don’t have an owl, so my Dad can’t send me anything, so that sucks...” Matthew explained, “But more than that...it’ll be the first time I’ve missed it. Every year, we’d go to church and they’d give us all a little chocolate egg, and we got to do colouring activities while the main service happened. I know I’m twelve now, but...it was nice seeing everyone there, you know? I just...that was how it happened every year. I miss that.”

Helena nodded. “You miss your old life. Now I must ask you something that may cause you offence.” she announced. “How does staying up here solve any of that?”

Matthew stared, open-mouthed. “Wh- well, I...I...you stay up here all the time, don’t you?!” he reminded her, suddenly very annoyed. He knew that staying up here wasn’t helping, but hearing it from somebody else was just...well, it felt awful. It then occurred to him what he had just said. “I...I’m sorry, I should go, I-”

“No. I understand.” Helena reassured him. 

“I...” Matthew began, “It’s no excuse, but...I just...I know it's wrong. But I can’t bring myself to change anything. When I was younger I’d always had Jacob to help me with that...we’d always get the same Easter chocolate, too. He’d tell me when to stop so I could space it out over the holidays, you know, to make it last. He was brilliant. I guess if I had the chocolate now, I’d eat it all in one go and feel awful about it later...I...I guess I just miss him. He was brilliant, and...I can’t stand his name being tarnished.” As he let everything out, he found himself stroking the cat again. It turned onto its back and let Matthew rub its belly. Helena watched for a moment, before sighing.

“Matthew Luther, in case you had not noticed, I am dead. But more than that, I am a ghost. I refused to let go of this world, as I did not have the faith to move on. Thus, I am trapped here, unable to truly feel the pull of the world around me...unable to enact change. You are not dead. You are alive. You can enact change.”

Matthew digested this, taking a long sigh. “You’re right. Of course you are. It’s just...so damn hard sometimes.”

“As all things worth doing are.” Helena said, “Now, best hurry. It looks like Mr Copper has been struck by the Jelly-Legs Jinx.”

“Right!” said Matthew, picking up his wand again and heading towards the door of Ravenclaw Tower, the cat following behind. “Honestly, I think I lost God’s lottery, and then there’s Ben-”

“Matthew!” cried Helena, gliding forward.

“Um...yes?” he asked. The ghost pointed at him.

“You are still wearing your pyjamas.” 

Matthew blushed. “Right, sorry, gah!” he exclaimed, heading up to the boy’s dormitory. A few minutes later he emerged, now with proper clothes on. He looked down at the cat by his feet.

“I guess you need a name.” he realised. “How about...Danny?”

Danny mewed quietly, scratching his head against Matthew’s leg.

“Great.” He said, before turning to the Grey Lady. “I...thank you. You know, I think you’re slightly wrong. You said you couldn’t change things, and now here I am, off to duel half of Slytherin.”

Helena’s smile grew ever-so-slightly. “Well...take care of that cat. It’s been in my care for a few years now, it deserves someone like you.”

“I will. I promise.” he said. Before he left, however, he turned back. “Um, Helena?”

“Yes, Matthew?”

“Do wizards...do they believe in God?”

Helena paused, then nodded. “Some do. They believe that he gave us our magic for a purpose, and...that we are destined to act as Guardian Angels for the masses.”

Matthew nodded in return. “Yeah, cool, um...see you around, Helena! Thank you for the cat! Oh, and Happy Easter!” he yelled, before dashing out of Ravenclaw Tower.

When Matthew got to the courtyard, the crowd had almost doubled. Rowan was standing nearby.

“Where were you? The Slytherins have been, well they’ve been-”

“I know.” Matthew said, scowling. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd. The group of Slytherins were hurling insult after insult at Ben, who had next-to-no chance of defending himself. Matthew sighed, and pointed his wand at Ben’s wiggling legs.

“Unjellify!” he yelled, causing them to straighten out. Ben immediately backed away, Rowan moving forward to check if he was okay. “Wait, the counter-curse is just ‘Unjellify’? That’s it?!” Merula asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Trust me, I was surprised too.” Matthew said, chuckling. “Alright then, guys, you’ve had your fun, so-”

“Oh shut up, halfbreed.” sneered Preston Crawford, another Slytherin who Matthew found to be worse than Merula. “You’ve made an enemy today, you know that?”

“Mm, and I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” Matthew said, looking up at the clock tower. “Hm. Half eleven. Guess I’ll have to settle for brunch.”

“You’re going nowhere, Luther.” Merula declared, stepping forward. “I doubt you could ever best me.”

“Is that so?” Matthew asked. “How about this, then: If I win, you can’t lay a finger on Ben Copper ever again.”

Merula snorted. “And if I win, you will never search for the Cursed Vaults ever again.”

“Fine by me.” Matthew said, genuinely smiling. “By all means, you first.”

“Flipendo!” she screamed. Matthew took it head-on. He heard a gasp from the crowd as he skidded to a halt. Matthew looked down to see Danny by his feet. Ben was nearby.

“Matthew...you really don’t have to do this...really, I..” he stammered, but Matthew just smiled, and gestured to his cat.

“Take care of my cat while I do this, will you? Thanks a bunch. Expelliarmus!” he yelled, knocking Merula’s wand right out of her hand.

“Ooh...you little...” she muttered, scowling at the cheering crowd. “You can’t do this! You can’t stop me from showing that mudblood who’s boss! I’m the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts, and-”

“Umm...Merula...” Matthew began, pointing behind her.

“No, I’m not done! How’d you master that spell already?! It’s not fair! Nobody can be better than me! I can do what I want, when I want! I run this school, I-”

“Merula...” Matthew tried again.

“For Merlin’s sake, what?!”

“Ahem.” said Professor Snape. Merula looked behind her and gulped. Preston and his cronies quickly scattered.

“P-Professor Snape!” she said, quickly.

“I suspect this is your fault, Luther. Are you aware of Hogwarts policy on unauthorised duelling?”

Matthew felt his stomach curl up, and it wasn’t because he’d missed breakfast.

“Sir,” piped up Rowan, “Merula hit him first, he-”

“Enough, Khanna. Is this true, Miss Snyde?” Snape asked. Merula looked as though she was going to deny it, but Danny had walked over and started moving in and out of her legs. She looked down at the cat, then up at Snape, and nodded.

“Very well. You will report to me in the West Towers to discuss this transgression.” He declared, both him and Flitwick departing. A silence hung in the air.

“Blimey, I am starving.” said Matthew, clutching his stomach. “I wonder if they do cat food...Not for me of course,” he added, looking at Merula’s bewildered expression.

“Luther...I’m getting to the Vaults first. And you won’t stop me.”

“I look forward to trying.” he said, before heading into the castle with Rowan, moving towards the Great Hall.

“See? Told you she wasn’t that bad.” he was saying as they came to Ravenclaw table.

“Matthew, she tried to jinx you.” Rowan reminded him. “I mean, I certainly didn’t expect her to tell the truth, but do you really think she’ll keep her promise to stop bullying Ben?”

“I suppose we’ll find out.” 

Suddenly, there was a loud hooting as several owls flew into the Hall. One of them flew low down and dropped a large box in front of Matthew. Attached to it was a note.

Hey Matt,

Happy Easter. I don’t know if they celebrate it over there, but I convinced your mother to let me send these to you with her owl.

Keep it up, 

Love, Dad.

Matthew smiled and opened the box. It was filled with several large chocolate eggs, and a singular smaller one, too.

“Wh-what is all this?” Merula asked, having just appeared in the Great Hall.

“I think...” said Matthew, “It’s God’s way of saying, ‘Sorry, mate.’ Why, do you want some?”

Merula scowled, then walked over to the Slytherin table. Matthew just grinned.

[veldian]

tell us more of ur think tank hcs i personally am at the edge of my seat

HELL YEAH ALRIGHT HERE WE GO. some of these might be against canon in some way but that's your fault for trusting me with this

ALSO, AS USUAL, I HAVE TO APOLOGIZE. THIS GOT VERY LONG. when i think about the tanks i go fuckin wild with it

starting with pride headcanons to get the ball rolling

all the tanks are nonbinary, but additionally, dala is a trans woman and 0 is a trans man

8 hates gender he fucking hates it. every day he wakes up and says "today i will make gender my bitch" and then he does. he says this in the game too you just don't know cuz he only speaks in static (don't factcheck this)

if you ask 8 what pronouns she uses, they will shrug and give you a "i dunno" noise. sometimes it'll make a non-committal hand movement and some unintelligible noises. good luck

god this bitch (borous) is gay! good for him! good for him.

he's also intersex! i don't remember where we got that hc but i like it and im holding onto it

okay but borous calls himself bi because yeah Men, but he also loves dala very much and doesn't want to misgender her. also as previously stated, 8's main goal is to confuse everyone about their gender so the tanks all stick with mspec labels to be on the safe side. you never know what'll happen. gender is a ticking time bomb

bi gang: klein, borous, 0

pan gang: dala, mobius

don't ask her about any of her identities she doesn't know the answer either: 8

have i gone off about polytank dynamics enough? i don't think so

8 and dala started dating first because horny bitches gravitate towards each other. they can also "pass" as a "straight couple" so hopefully no one at work will look at them and call them slurs. hopefully

klein and borous knocked things out of the park for being the first gay scientists ever

8 and dala became polyam icons and pulled 0 in. trans bitches gravitate towards each other

klein and borous did the same with mobius. bitches with facial hair gravitate towards each other

???????

idk and then all six of them started dating somehow. the end

somewhere along the way klein and 8 were like "i like you a little too much" and now they're inseparable

okay anyway. misc hcs

ive mentioned this before but when i pretend everything is in modern times, 0 is a tiktokker and he thrives on the attention and making fun of his coworkers on the internet

"watching steven universe repeatedly when i felt even slightly bad transed my gender" - doctor 8 old world blues

i just remembered i made a carrd for the tanks as if they were kinnies in their early to mid 20s

8 kinned pearl su. borous kinned werewolf cookie. 0 kinned rimmer red dwarf. mobius kinned... morbius forbidden planet. obviously. klein refused to put his kins on it. DID DALA KIN FROM DANGANRONPA

i think at one point we had a half-joking hc where klein gets nauseous if he sees blood

and then that changed to he can't see others blood, only his own

while borous can't see his own blood, but he's fine seeing other ppl's

i know borous said that gabe barked at everyone, but i think gabe trusts the other tanks because he knows borous does

borous set up a kissing booth with gabe. the crowd goes wild

when the tanks get together they usually go to klein's. he's the leader or something. also he has a fucking bar in his house.

he complains about them the whole time but you can really tell he loves having people over. why else would he deck his house out like that? he LOVES hosting stuff. house husband

if you saw my chart where i said klein would rather die than do dishes, i was so wrong. his house is pristine. its easily the cleanest

klein's love language is acts of service. he goes over to his partners' houses when they feel awful and clean stuff up for them when they can't. he also makes them food if they want it. he only complains a little, but you can tell he's mostly teasing

did you know klein has five mugs in his kitchen in-game. he's literally prepared to host his partners at any given moment.

the group have learned that letting 8 come over when their house is a mess is a Huge mistake. it goes from 8 trying to help "tidy up" to "im going to put your books and albums in alphabetical order by artist also your clothes are going to be hue-sorted"

"8 why are there only 8 books on each of my bookshelves"

"it looks better"

"it literally does not"

8 can no longer stomach going into 0's house

on the other hand, 0 hates staying in 8's house. the ticking of all their clocks is sensory hell

on 80 date nights they have to do rock-paper-scissors for which house they go to. or they go out. they love each other but their houses drive the other fucking nuts

oh speaking of their houses. yes dala said she didn't like Literal Teddy Bears but that is null and void considering she has teddies in her house

and she has 5 on her bed. five of them :)

she named all of them after her partners! its mostly cute but there is a slight bit of concern because they know what she does with them <__<

not that 8 has any place to judge. mobius found batteries under its pillow once. all 8 said was "they can vibrate." mobius regrets touching them.

i don't know what to say about dala's mannequins i don't have anything funny im just scared

WHY ARE 0 AND KLEIN THE ONLY ONES WITH BATHROOMS IT DRIVES ME INSANE 0'S BATHTUB ISNT EVEN LAYING DOWN ITS AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT GENERATOR IN HIS BATHROOM DO THE OTHER TANKS JUST SHIT OUTSIDE I'M SEEING RED

mobius and 0 are both into robotics, and they worked together to make muggy, so they've had date nights where they mainly tinker with electronic things.

0 gets very excited when he makes a breakthrough, and seeing that warms mobius's heart. mobius made a habit of kissing 0 on the forehead or squeezing 0 into a hug when they figure things out.

(0 remembers he likes men.) 😳

dala/klein date nights are essentially just them drinking and gossiping chatting

i asked polycule for some more, so here are ones from your local think tank kinnies

borous -

"klein and borous both like classical music in very different ways. klein mostly likes it to feel smart (see: wheatley) but he just started associating it with the others so it felt nicer And borous just likes it bc hes borous"

klein also likes jazz, but so do all the rest of them

8 has a cochlear implant

"dala likes dressing up to look pretty (see: runway) but is personally embarrassed by it (until she gets encouragement) bc she feels like the others dont support that"

"0 loves collecting and reading those stupid magazines with the birthday party products and themes that ud wanna buy from as a kid but are way too expensive"

"mobius has a secret love for puppetry and will try to bring it up sometimes whenever he can. hes made 3 separate sets of the other tanks as puppets and they freak 0 out"

"borous, in an attempt to better his faults, has started learning from dala and 8 on how to take care of plants instead of what he did before. his basement turns into a cool little green house cozy cuddle area"

"to add on: 8 gardens to cope whenever hes alone bc (projects onto ur kin) he mood drops very fast when alone"

"mobius likes dressing in cozy sweaters and fancy stuff"

0 -

"0 doesn't like anal that much" (thanks.)

dala -

"their new rap album called boyz in the tanks" (THANKS.)

and to top things off, :) here are the normal names for them all, created primarily by our borous kinnie

klein - Ernest Klein (nicknamed ernie)

mobius - Wilbert Mobius (nicknamed bert)

borous - James H. Borous (nicknamed jamie)

dala - Dala Theodore (HER NICKNAME IS TEDDY ITS GENIUS)

8 - Emmett Handley (nicknamed 8 + emmy)

0 - Robert O'Barrick (nicknamed 0/O + robbie (HIM SHARING HOUSE'S NAME IS INTENTIONAL. HE'S TRANS HE PICKED HIS NAME WHY DID HE DO THIS))

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

All Emiya-san AU's are good AU's (its where my Actor Fionn lives too lol) and man there's a lot of untapped comedy gold of Shirou hearing all these stories about Diarmuid scaring away rude customers and thinking he looks super scarred up or w/e and then he meets him and it's like "??? he looks so nice?? are u sure this is the guy who nearly stabbed someones eye out???"

EHEHEHE I wrote a thing beneath the read more I looooove the Emiya Gohan AUS so much...

Everything about this situation was concerning for Shirou. It was bad enough that Archer was using Shirou’s name (the number of times he’d gotten, “Is that guy a relative of yours, Emiya-kun?” from ignorant but well-meaning classmates was starting to grate on his nerves) at his dumb part-time job (why Servants even needed part-time jobs was a mystery) and the fact that Lancer kept popping up to invite Taiga out for dinner and drinking but now, apparently, a third Servant had arrived.

The cafe’s regulars, of course, had no idea he was a Servant. Sakura and Rider had confirmed it after visiting the cafe on one of their dates, but didn’t seem to be worried. Of course, they weren’t worried. Sakura and Rider had enough power and magical energy between them to flatten the city, let alone deal with Servants. Rin also brushed off what Shirou believed was a wholly justified concern - “He’s probably just some lingering ghost from a past Grail War. Archer seems to like him fine, and he hangs out around Lancer, so what’s the big deal? If he becomes a problem, we’ll just deal with it like we always do.”

But in Shirou’s view, the Servant was already a problem. It was bad enough that the restored Servants of the Fifth Grail War could still draw upon the wild, free-flowing magic of Fuyuki’s leylines and pop up whenever they pleased - the fact that Servants from previous wars might show up too was giving him anxiety.

And this was before the rumors started.

Nobody seemed to know the guy’s name, or remember it if they saw it written down. He would pop up - always in the vicinity of the cafe - and often left behind gifts. One time, it was a bottle of wine for the manager. Another time, an antique coin for one of the waiters. He always seemed to disappear right when anyone asked for information about him, and reappear whenever something interesting happened. One time, near closing, a couple of drunk university students came in and tried to convince their waitress to leave in their car. When she refused, one of them joked about following her home.

At once, the mystery Servant walked in the door.

Another time, a middle-aged man from out of town shouted at one of the baristas until they had to run into the back to cry for the rest of their shift. On the local news the next morning, the man appeared to have been dropped at the hospital with a broken jaw and a soul full of remorse.

(Lancer actually laughed when he informed Shirou of this story.

“You were there and didn’t say anything?”

“Hey, I was the guy who had to deal with the asshole after he made our barista run off. It wasn’t a big deal, I just happened to call in a favor from a friend. Plus, he deserved it.”

And Lancer winked, like they were sharing an inside joke.)

And so on and so forth. Nobody could purge the service industry of customer horror stories, but this mystery Servant seemed to be doing his damnedest to make a dent in the problem. He was the most ghost-like of any Servant that Shriou had ever encountered.

Ayako and Kaede quickly became regulars at the cafe. Shirou thought it was hard to tell whether or not they were in love with the mystery Servant or whether or not they wanted to challenge him to a duel. It seemed to be a combination of both.

“He’s like, the toughest guy I’ve ever seen,” said Ayako, mystified. “I swear I thought he was going to tear that woman’s throat out.”

“This guy threatened a customer,” Shirou said, “and you’re happy?”

“Well, she was being rude to Yukika,” Kaede retorted, like that settled the matter. “I mean, I wasn’t counting, but I think she sent her coffee back six times before anyone said anything. She kept berating her like it was Yukika’s fault that she kept changing her mind about sugar and milk. She literally lied about what her original order was to get a free drink. It was awful.”

“But then this guy shows up,” Ayako continued the story, talking over Kaede as she continued muttering about the injustice faced by the track team’s manager. “And he clocks what’s happening, like, instantly. I dunno where the blue-haired guy was, I guess he was late for his shift or something, but he just - “

She motioned like she was trying to take up more space than her physical body allowed.

“I swear, it was like you could’ve heard a pin drop! He takes one look at Yukika and just goes up to the lady and -”

Another vague gesture like a karate chop.

“He hit this woman?” Shirou said, outraged.

“Nah, he wouldn’t hit anyone,” Kaede said, nodding sagely. “He doesn’t really need to, you know? You could just take one look at him and you know not to mess with this guy when he’s mad.”

That settled it. Shirou had to investigate on his own, since obviously no one else was going to take this seriously. It was bad that customers were mistreating the staff at Yukika’s job, but a Servant threatening humans was unacceptable.

It was time, at last, to enlist Saber’s help.

She had been living at Shirou’s house since her restoration, recovering from her injuries. Shirou hated the idea of asking her to fight again, especially when she was so clearly enjoying her life as a “normal human,” but he couldn’t afford to hold back if there was a dangerous, unknown Servant in the city. To her credit, Saber was happy to assist. She said she had been meaning to drop by and try Archer’s cooking for quite some time.

The two of them met on Sunday for lunch. Saber ordered two coffees and went into the kitchen to see Archer. Yukika wasn’t on shift today, so Shirou didn’t recognize any of the other staff. But he did notice that they all kept watching the door, as if waiting for something.

After the coffees arrived (Saber’s was left to cool on the table), the bell above the door chimed. Shirou felt the shift in the area’s magical energy before he looked up and saw the Servant himself. It was remarkably subtle, considering that it was like an icy draft passing through the cafe. You wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it.

The waitstaff was suddenly all smiles.

Shirou looked up - and felt his jaw drop to the floor.

He did not look remotely threatening. The mystery Servant was, in fact, the most physically beautiful person that Shirou had ever seen in his life. Tall and muscular - his build was not dissimilar to Lancer, though he lacked Lancer’s wolfish aura - with a head of dark, thick curls. His face was elegant, from piercing, bright eyes all the way down to his perfect lips, only marred by a tiny beauty mark beneath his right eye.

Shirou had to look away, blushing despite himself. What the hell is wrong with me? He realized belatedly that he had come to this battle totally unprepared for a charm attack.

Is this guy cursed or something?

That was the only explanation. Why else did he feel like he would collapse if he looked this Servant directly in the face for too long? It wasn’t normal.

And on second glance, it appeared that Shirou wasn’t the only person taken aback. A couple on a date had paused their conversation to stare at the Servant, murmuring their appreciation in hushed tones; a middle-aged woman was holding a fork in her hand, oblivious to the fact that her cake had just splattered over her shoes. Two little kids were waving at him, apparently recognizing him from somewhere, and their parents had to hurriedly shush them because it’s rude to try and pull someone out of a conversation like that.

One of the waiters was talking to him. Shirou strained to listen, shaking himself.

“Want the usual?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said the Servant, in a smooth, polite voice that made Shirou hate him irrationally. Stupid, handsome guy. “Is Cu in today?”

“I think he said he’s on vacation,” the waiter replied. “But Emiya’s here if you want to talk to him.”

Shirou looked up, baffled by the fact that the unfamiliar waiter knew his name, momentarily forgetting that Archer had stolen his name as a cover-up.

The Servant noticed. Barely a glance, a flicker of the gaze in his direction.

Shirou turned back and drank deeply from his coffee, which scalded his tongue.

“Oh, I see,” said the Servant, sounding amused now. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing! I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Once the initial shock of the Servant’s appearance dissipated, everything went back to normal so fast that it was almost jarring. The middle-aged woman clicked her tongue and grabbed napkins to clean up her shoes; the couple resumed planning the rest of their day; the kids kept eating, having gotten bored with trying to get the Servant’s attention. The faint, drafty aura of magic passed and the temperature in the cafe seemed to rise back to comfortable levels. Definitely cursed, Shirou decided, frowning into his coffee cup.

“Excuse me?”

Shirou blanched. The Servant had appeared behind him, smiling patiently.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, indicating Saber’s coffee cup.

Shirou was suddenly, oddly conflicted. Without knowing what this Servant was capable of, was it fair to expose Saber like this?

“Uh, no,” he said, uselessly. “Well, not exactly.”

The Servant waited, patiently, for him to explain. Shirou grimaced.

“My friend is a friend of the guy who cooks here,” he said, hating himself for giving it away. “She wanted to come visit him, so I’m just waiting for her to get back before we leave.”

“Really?” said the Servant, smiling. “That’s nice. You’re a friend of Emiya?”

Shirou twitched. “No. I am Emiya.”

“Oh?”

“Not related to that guy, obviously,” he muttered. “But - anyway,” Shirou blurted, suddenly noticing a distinctive piece of fly-away blonde hair emerging from the kitchen, “it’s a long story, and we’d better get going, so see you later -”

He hastily threw some money down on the table for his coffee and rushed to Saber’s side.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him, brows furrowed with concern. “I thought that you were -”

“Saber!”

Shirou winced, and then - wait a minute. How on Earth did the enemy Servant know Saber’s name!?

To his horror, a huge smile spread over Saber’s face.

“Saber, don’t!” Shirou hissed. “You have to look away! This guy’s got some kind of charm spell on him that -”

Saber only laughed and lightly pushed him aside. Though she’d scarcely used a fraction of her true strength, Shirou stumbled.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Shirou. This is an old friend of mine.”

And she crossed the cafe in order to give the Servant a huge hug. Because Saber was approximately half of the mystery Servant’s size, he was able to lift her easily and spun her in a circle. Saber laughed at this.

“I must admit I’m surprised!” she said. “I didn’t think -”

Saber seemed to become self-conscious. But the enemy Servant merely beamed.

“Think nothing of it! I had no idea you were here in the city.”

“Really? Cu and Emiya didn’t tell you?”

“They mentioned a surprise,” said the Servant, shrugging. “I suppose this must be it.”

Saber shook her head. “Of course they did. Foolish boys.”

“I must apologize - I was introducing myself to your friend.”

“Oh, yes! This is my current Master, Shirou. Shirou,” said Saber, waving to him. “This is my old friend - he was a Lancer in the previous quest for the Grail.”

“Please,” said the former Lancer, “call me Diarmuid, if you’d like.”

He gave away his True Name so casually. Who the hell is he, though? Shirou frowned as he came closer.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize you were one of Saber’s friends.”

“And I did not realize you were a mage,” said Diarmuid, breezily. “But no matter! Are you really leaving?” he asked Saber. “Your Master has indicated that you might have plans -”

“Nonsense!” Saber assured him, cheerful as well. “We were just sitting down. Did you order? I’ve been meaning to try Archer’s cooking for awhile, you see, so I plan to stay here for the afternoon.”

Saber and Diarmuid walked back to their table and pulled up a third chair.

Shirou bit back a groan.

It was going to be a long day.

[marshmallow-phd]

Watchful Eyes

Part of the EXO Mafia Universe

Genre: Mafia!AU

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, Trish, I meant for this to be fluffy, but the story kind of took a turn of its own. I hope you still like it!! (warning: its... long)

**

If someone were to ask you what you thought the quiet man who came into your work nearly every day to order the same coffee, you would have answered something along the lines of corporate lawyer or director or anything else that came with a large paycheck. His suits were always perfectly tailored to fit his short but strong frame. He never wore the same expensive watch twice. And no, it wasn’t weird that you noticed that. You were always an overly observant person, it wasn’t your fault that your brain picked up on the most minute details. It did, however, take you a bit to understand the need to keep those details to yourself. 

You were sure if Rich Man (you knew his name was Kim Jongdae from his debit card that he used to pay each time, but it made you feel less like a creepy stalker if you used a nickname in your head) was aware of how much you’d observed about him, he would never return. And that was the last thing you wanted. You liked seeing him every day, around the same time (approximately eight-thirty in the morning, right after the morning rush). He had become a part of your own routine, your own comfort zone. However, you were never brave enough to make any sort of real conversation with him, no matter how large your crush on him grew. 

“If you keep sighing after him like that I’m going to leave your number on a napkin for him,” your co-worker threatened. 

You nearly slipped as you were wiping down a table. You hadn’t realized the sound you thought was in your head had been verbalized as you watched him walk down the sidewalk through the big window in the front of the cafe. 

“Don’t you dare,” you grumbled through clenched teeth as you straightened up. 

Ignoring your co-worker’s cheeky snickers, you headed back to the counter to start cleaning the espresso machine. A shudder ran down your spine at the very thought of your co-worker actually embarrassing you like that. Because while Mr. Kim was Rich Man, you were very much Poor Woman. But this wasn’t a drama. This was real life and rarely did the successful businessman fall for the lowly coffee girl for no reason whatsoever. He’d probably laugh at any attempt you made to get his attention and then leave to never come back. So you stayed in the background. All you would do was continue to observe Rich Man from afar as life continued on its own mundane way. 

**

Your eyes flickered over to the clock for the tenth time within the last minute as if the time would drastically change. 

Rich Man hadn’t been by your shop for the past three days. Even though it was perfectly normal for regulars to move on and find new places, this didn’t feel right to you. This didn’t feel like the normal change-up. You couldn’t figure out what it was, but something felt wrong. The clock was ticking closer to his usual walk-in time and you were nervous that this might turn into day four.

As your eyes looked towards the clock for the eleventh time, the bell above the front entrance chimed. You turned to greet the new customer and stopped. 

It was him. 

But he was different. 

The jacket of his suit was gone, leaving only the white button down, tie, and slacks. His black hair wasn’t quite gelled into its usual fashion, a few pieces left askew. What really caught your eye, however, was the still-healing bruise next to his right eye. 

Slowly, he approached the counter, wallet already in his hands. He opened his mouth to give you his order, but before you could stop yourself-

“Are you alright?” Immediately, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Stupid, stupid. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.” Instead of scolding you, though, he smiled. 

“I’m alright. Thank you for asking.” He handed over his card and you rang up his order without any prompting. 

As you handed back the card, you realized what you’d done. “I’m sorry. Again. I should have asked-”

“What you should do is stop apologizing,” he smirked. It was evident that he was in some sort of pain, given the slight grimace behind each movement he made, but he was masking it well. “I wanted my usual anyway.” He looked around the shop. “Do you mind bringing me the order when it's done?”

You shook your head. “Of course not. Please, take a seat. I’ll have it right out for you.”

He smiled at you. Genuinely smiled. “Thank you.” With a slight limp, he made his way over to a table near the front entrance. 

I wonder what happened to him... Your mind was racing with all the possibilities. And you were starting to think that maybe, just maybe your earlier assumptions that he worked high up in a legitimate business were incorrect. 

Pushing the negative thoughts away, you got started on his simple coffee order. You tended to pride yourself on your observation of character and Rich Man - no, Jongdae, you’d already passed social graces and asked him a personal question, you might as well revert to his real name - always seemed like a good person. He was kind both to you, the other workers here and any other patrons he passed along the way. Could a man like that really be involved in anything malicious?

Everyone knew about the mafia, EXO, though the leaders who ran it were shrouded in mystery. No one knew their names, only that they existed and had considerable control both in the dark underworld and the legitimate businesses of the city. Could Jongdae be a part of that organization? You didn’t want to believe it, but the money combined with the recent injuries….

No. There was no way. You weren’t going to let your imagination run wild again. There were a hundred explanations for his absence and bruise. 

Warm Americano in hand, you pushed away the negativity and went over to him, placing the cup in front of him. You were just about to walk away when he stopped you. 

“Have you missed me?”

You whirled around. “W-what?”

Smirking to himself, he took off his golden watch of the day, placing it down on the table and rubbing his wrist as if the accessory had been bothering him. Perhaps it was too heavy? Or too tight? “I stopped coming for a few days, but you still remembered how I like my coffee.” He looked up at you with soft eyes that didn’t match the cocky twist of his mouth. “Did you miss me?”

“I noticed you hadn’t come around,” you admitted, although why you admitted it was lost on you. “I just figured you found somewhere else with better coffee.”

He shook his head. “No, I very much like the coffee here.”

Heat exploded in your cheeks. Please, don’t be visibly blushing, you thought. Of course he means the coffee and not the service. “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” you replied softly. “I should get back to the counter.”

With a nod of his head, you were dismissed. 

He only hung around for maybe ten minutes more before going on with his day. When you went over to take care of the ceramic cup he’d left behind, however, you found that he’d left something else as well. 

His watch. 

Swiping it up, you ran outside, searching frantically for him, but it was too late, He’d already disappeared. You pocketed the watch, blowing air out your lips. Surely, he’d come back for it, right? Until then you’d hold on to it, for safekeeping.

**

The day was drawing to a close and Jongdae still hadn’t returned for his watch. Your co-worker made a joke about pawning it for cash, but one glare from you shut them up. After finishing the cleaning list and putting up all the chairs, you slipped on your jacket and headed out. 

The sun was starting to disappear behind the buildings as you made your way to the subway. The wind was picking up so you pulled your jacket in closer to try and keep yourself warm. At the intersection right before your subway entrance, you were stopped by the orange hand saying not to cross. Even though no cars were zooming by, you decided it was better safe than sorry to obey the hand and stand there on the corner for the okay to cross. As you waited, you pulled the watch from your pocket to inspect the details. 

It wasn’t a Rolex like you would have expected. The plate on the back said it was from Bvlgari. You didn’t know much about the brand, but you did know that it was a brand only for the rich. This particular product was simple, but that meant by no means was it cheap. It was solid gold, heavy, with black lines on the face, only the twelve and six printed out in actual numbers. A second, smaller version was seated in the bottom left to represent the second hand. It was pretty, elegant and luxurious. Just like its owner. 

Flipping it over, you found that under the brand name, something else was etched into the surface. 

Chen. 

What did that mean?

“That’s a handsome watch you’ve got there.”

You jumped, not having realized that you were no longer alone. The walking man had come and gone. Now the hand was flashing, telling you it was too late to try and cross, too late to try and put distance between you and the creepy looking man leering over you. It wasn’t his face, necessarily that was creepy - in fact, it was quite average looking. It was the expression on his face that was setting off your alarm bells. 

Replacing the watch in your packet, you stayed quiet, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Where did you get it?” he asked, undeterred. 

“It’s a friend’s,” you replied. Damn it, why did you have to acknowledge him?

“A friend, you say? What’s his name?”

You cleared your throat to give off a more confident sound than how you really felt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it’s any of your business.”

The man scoffed. “Now that’s not very nice.”

Rolling your eyes, you went to look at him to tell him off once and for all, but you were greeted with the barrel of a gun. You suddenly ran cold. Were you about to die because you couldn’t keep the stupid watch in your pocket?

“You can’t have it!” It was a bluff, sure, but you were hoping he would change his mind and walk away. If it really came down to it, you would give it to him. Jongdae had plenty, anyway. Right?

“Oh, I don’t want the watch,” the man snickered. Out of his own pocket, he grabbed a white cloth and held it up menacingly. “It’s you I want. The watch just pointed me in the right direction.”

“Wha- mph!” 

Before you could run, the man snaked an arm around you, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth. The chemical smell you breathed in told you exactly what was happening. You lasted only a minute or so before you blacked out. 

**

You woke up in the back of an SUV, hands tied behind your back and sandwiched between the man who’d kidnapped you and another thug with bulging muscles and a large rifle in his hand. 

“About time you wake up,” the first man laughed. 

You wanted oh so badly to spit some sort of comeback at him, but you’d seen enough movies to know that would end only with you getting a bloody lip - or worse. 

“That’s the signal,” the other man said. He grabbed your upper arm and kicked open the door on his side of the SUV before dragging you out of it. What you saw from there made your jaw drop. 

It was exactly like the movies. An old abandoned warehouse, two groups of men facing each other, twenty feet or so between them. You were apparently on the side of the “obvious bad guys” - they were the ones with large guns and… well you, the clueless victim. 

On the other side of the warehouse was what you could only conclude was the mafia known as EXO. The nine men dressed much more elegantly than your captors, their own pistols holstered on their hips. Most of them were frowning, but one… one in particular actually seemed worried. And it was the one person you’d hoped wouldn’t be there.

“What are you doing with her?” Jongdae demanded. His fist was clenched at his side, mere centimeters away from his gun. 

The man in the middle with the slicked back hair and dark blue suit - the one who looked like the obvious leader - laughed. “I thought I’d bring her along to help with negotiations, Chen.”

Chen? Your gaze landed steadily on Jongdae. Was that his real name? The one etched on the back of his watch? Was Jongdae just a cover for his true self? You felt like an idiot. There was no reason for you to, as you couldn’t say you ever really knew him beyond the customer/cafe girl relationship. But your observation skills had failed you and that within itself was humiliating enough. 

“I don’t see how she matters, Thorn,” said one of the tall members of Jongdae’s group. His face was the most neutral of the lot, his build long and lean. He almost seemed bored, even though your life was very much in danger. 

“What?” the leader named Thorn snorted. “You mean you don’t know about Chen’s little girlfriend? I thought you didn’t have secrets between the lot of you?”

You waited for Jongdae - er Chen (your head was beginning to hurt with all these different names) - to correct him, but to your surprise, he stayed silent. 

One of the other members looked to Chen. “What’s going on?”

Chen shook his head, but not at his member. “I don’t know why you thought to involve her.”

“Weren’t you the one trying to protect her in the first place?” Thorn asked. “Isn’t that why after our last run-in you stayed away from her? But you couldn't do that for long, could you?”

“Just tell us what the hell you want!” Chen shouted.

Thorn looked like he was getting exactly what he wanted. “Hand over my money and the deeds to the river front property on the south end and I’ll let her go.”

“That’s all we get?” sneered the tanned member of Chen’s group. 

“I think that’s a fair deal,” Thorn shrugged. One of the men behind you cocked their gun. One quick glance told you that it wasn’t just a threat. The barrel was pointed at the back of your head. They meant it: accept the deal or you were dead. 

Without verbally agreeing, Chen turned around and headed for his car. The horrifying thought that he was going to let them kill you ran through your mind. But instead of driving off, he reached into the back seat and pulled out two large black duffel bags.

“You bring her to the middle at the same time,” he demanded. 

Thorn gestured at his men with two fingers to bring you. You were dragged unceremoniously to the center as Chen also stepped forward. He threw down the bags. One of the men bent over and unzipped the contents. Bundles and bundles of cash filled the bags, almost bulging from the amount shoved inside. He turned to Thorn and nodded once. Then the other man cut the ropes that bound your wrists, freeing you. He shoved you into Chen, who caught you and held on.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’m fine.” Confused, disoriented, and scared, but fine nonetheless. 

“Come on.” He escorted you over to the car and all but shoved you into the passenger's seat. Wordlessly, the others also jumped into their cars and drove off out of the warehouse. 

Well. That was simple. 

But the ride didn’t last long. The groups of cars stopped only a block away. 

“What’s going on?” you asked frantically as you searched around. Were you being followed? Had something gone wrong?

“Shush.” He barely glanced at you as he stared out the windshield. 

Several of the men got out of their cars and placed gas masks over their faces. They walked back towards the warehouse. You held your breath, waiting to see what would happen next. It may have seemed like forever, but according to the clock on the dash, only ten minutes had gone by before the group returned, duffel bags in hand. 

“How did they-” You turned to Chen for an answer to your unfinished question. 

“Gas canisters under the money,” he explained, still not looking at you. “Poisonous. They won’t harm you ever again.” And with that, he threw the car into drive and took off. 

He sped through the city. He said no words to you, leaving you in the dark about what you’d been forced to endure. 

Only when your apartment building came into view did he come to a stop. You stared down the block at your front door. Should you get out now? What would happen to you? Were the ones who’d kidnapped you dead? Would you be next now that you knew the secret identities of the mafia?

“Don’t tell anybody about tonight,” he told you in a warning voice. 

“I won’t,” you promised. Who would believe you anyway? 

Taking that as your signal to leave, you unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. He didn’t stop you as your feet touched the concrete. This felt like goodbye forever. You had a feeling that after this moment, you would never see him again. And it was hurting your heart. Despite the fact that you’d be safer without him, it still hurt. 

“Wait!”

You made it only halfway down the sidewalk when Chen came running after you. A frown pulled at your lips. What could he want now?

But you never got the chance to ask that question out loud when he suddenly grabbed your face and pushed you up against the building wall. His lips were on yours before you could comprehend what was happening. Shock kept you frozen, but only for a few seconds. 

Soon, you were returning the kiss, hands reaching up and digging in his hair and gripping on tight. Red brick poked and prodded your shoulder blades, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was occupied with Jongdae, the feeling of his hands on you, the fire his touch created. 

But Chen ended it almost as quickly as he’d started. He reached into your pocket and pulled out the watch that was still there. Taking ahold of your hand, he slipped it onto your wrist. “I’m sorry.” Then he spun on his heels and went back to his car.

You blinked after the vehicle, unsure of how to feel. The world was tilted, nothing was lining up. 

Letting out a long sigh, you slid down to the ground. Everything felt numb. Not even the coldness of the concrete seemed to bother you. Perhaps you were in shock. Or maybe this was all a weird fever dream, your brain’s explanation for your customer’s long absence. 

Yes… maybe it was all just a dream. 

**

It wasn’t. 

The evidence that it was real was hanging on your wrist when you woke up the next morning. For several minutes, you sat in bed, staring at the watch. None of the previous night’s event made any sense. You didn’t know what to do except to go on until the next time you saw the mafia man. 

But he didn’t show up to the cafe that day. Okay. that was to be expected. 

Then he didn’t show up for a week. Two weeks.

Well, into the third week, you were giving up on ever seeing him again. The chime of the doorbell made you jump, but the customer was never him. Perhaps when he said he was sorry, he really meant goodbye. Maybe your gut was right and you were never going to see him again. 

Every day, you wore the watch, just in case. In case he showed back up. In case you were given the chance to see him again. 

During the slower moments, you would take off the watch and read the strange name over and over. Chen. Chen. Chen. Who was he? And was he so different from the kind soul you’d observed over the months that he’d come to the cafe? You didn’t want to think so. You were sure that, at least deep down, they could be one in the same. 

Closing time had come and you were just about finished with all your chores. The only thing that remained was to take out the trash. The bags were heavy, so you struggled to drag them into the back alley where the dumpsters were located. Grabbing one bag, you lifted it up and with a huff, pushed it into the dumpster. But when you turned to the other bag, someone else had already taken it. 

You watched with a slacked jaw as Chen threw the garbage bag away with ease. 

“Hi,” he greeted. He shoved his hands in his pockets, smiling shyly, crookedly at you. It was small and unsure, perhaps waiting for you to start shouting or become explosive in some way. 

Instead, you stayed quiet. Chen shifted from foot to foot anxiously. The bruise had long ago healed, but he looked more unkempt than ever. His dress shirt was wrinkled and disheveled. No tie hung from his neck and his slacks looked about a day old. Your fingers ached to reach out and fix his hair, but you restrained. 

“How are you?” he asked awkwardly in an attempt to break the tension. 

“Fine.”

He nodded. “Good, good.”

Silence fell again. 

You shook your head. “Who are you? Really?”

“You know who I am,” he said. 

You scoffed. “No, I don’t. Americano with cream. Kim Jongdae. Chen. Mafia member. To me, it seems like you’re many different people.”

A sad sigh left his lips. He held out his hand to you. “Hi. My name is Kim Jongdae. I’m a member of the EXO mafia, codename Chen.”

Part of you wanted to be petty and not shake his hand. But you couldn’t entirely blame him for the secrecy and the disappearing act. You couldn’t even really blame him for your kidnapping. All he did was accidentally leave his watch behind. So, you grasped his hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae dropped your hand, his smile growing a fraction at your openness to him. “I think I should explain…,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “Well, everything, I guess.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

To your surprise, he laughed. Soon, however, it faded out. “I neve meant for you to get involved. Suho told me months ago to stop coming to see you here at the cafe, but I couldn’t help myself. Something about you just kept bringing me back.” 

Your cheeks burned at his somewhat confession, but you pressed your lips closed. Now was not the time to interrupt. Then you might not get all the answers. 

“I didn’t know Thorn’s men were following me until about a month ago. They cornered me. I was able to kill one of them before the others ran away. Right before the man died, he made a comment about how I’d better keep an eye on my coffee girl, in case something should happen.” Jongdae winced at that, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. “I couldn’t see you right away. I was too beat up for that. I was relieved when I saw that you were fine. But… I was still worried. I left my watch behind that day on purpose, hoping you’d keep a hold of it.”

Now you had to intercede. “Why? What was the point of that?”

He looked down guiltily. “I had Baekhyun put a tracking device in the wrist band of it. I wanted to make sure you were safe. In the end, I just made things worse. The watch was the proof they were waiting for, to see if you were important enough to use against me.”

You wanted to be angry. You wanted to be annoyed, stomp away while screaming for him to never show his face in front of you again. If he’d come a few weeks ago, you might have. But those feelings had depleted over time. Logic had taken over. Certain things were just out of his control. And… well, you were a little happy that he hadn’t listened to this Suho person and kept coming to the cafe. Flattered, really, if a bit shy about it. 

You didn’t even think about it. Your foot took that first step and the next thing you knew, your arms were wrapping around his torso and you were resting your cheek against his chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For not letting them kill me.”

He was quick to return the embrace, holding you tight against him. “I never would have let that happen to you. One way or another, I would have gotten you out of there.”

Sighing, you leaned back to look at Jongdae. Your mind was still a bit scrambled at all of this. Your previous observations weren’t making any sense to the confession being laid out in front of you. Especially the one where you thought he hardly noticed you. “I must be out of my mind.”

He frowned at you. “Why do you say that?”

Shaking your head, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him like he did to you that night outside your apartment. But unlike you, he didn’t hesitate in the slightest. With one hand cupping your jaw and the other firmly planted on the small of your back, he pressed you even closer to him so no space remained between your bodies. He didn’t pull away until both of you needed to replenish the air in your lungs. Looking into his eyes, you couldn't help but be nervous. Because you knew the danger this man brought. You’d already lived it. But you were in too deep now. And you weren’t sure you wanted to pull yourself out of it, anyway. 

**

You bounced from foot to foot, eager for the end of your shift to come. For months, Jongdae had been begging you to quit, to let him take care of you. But you liked having the schedule, having something to do all day while he was working with the others. You also preferred not to have your rent and other necessities paid for by, well, by money that wasn’t completely clean. 

There were times where you wished Jongdae wasn’t living the life he was, but you couldn't change him. You wouldn’t even try. You’d accepted who he was since you first learned about his truth. That didn’t mean you had to be consumed by his world as well. You could still keep your life and have him, too. At least for now. 

“Oh, just go already,” your co-worker grumbled as they rolled their eyes. 

Not even arguing, you ripped off the apron and ran to the office to clock out. Your heart was racing at the simple thought of seeing Jongdae. It was date night for the two of you and you were especially excited since it’d been nearly a week since you last saw him. 

You’d barely made it out the door before a pair of arms snatched you from behind. A scream erupted from your throat until you heard the tell-tale laughter in your ear. 

“Jongdae!” You turned around in his arms and slapped his shoulder, but he kept laughing, enjoying your startled state.

He kissed your lips, still smiling. “I missed you.”

You tried not to smile. You really did. But you lost fairly quickly. “I missed you, too.” 

Holding up your hand, he slid his fingers in between yours. It felt right, his hand in yours. Like you’d been cold all this time and he was the only thing that could keep you from dying of hyperthermia. His warmth was infectious and addicting. Even when the two of you argued and fought over his lifestyle choices, you always found yourself back in his presence. You just couldn’t let him go. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said. 

You scrunched your face. “Another one?”

“This one isn’t jewelry,” he promised. Releasing your waist, he pulled you towards his car and helped you into the passenger’s seat. As soon as he was settled behind the wheel, he took ahold of your hand again, kissing your knuckles softly. Then he looked at you cheekily. “Ready?”

“With you?” You smiled broadly. “Always.”

Your answer made him grin so widely that he looked like a kid. It made your heart skip a beat, the innocence, the love behind it. And it was all for you. Always for you. 

It was funny to you, where you were now versus only a few months ago. You went from being the background girl who looked a little too closely to person by Jongdae’s side, the man who felt out of reach. He wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t a knight in shining armor. But he was yours. And that was enough. 

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-06

♪ HS2 HS2 is baaaaack ♪

♪ HS2bloggin here we gooooo ♪

♪ Structural changes on their team but I don’t caaaaare ♪

♪ Already resooolved myself that its NOOOT gonna beee as good ♪ with inattentiveness to details characters like Terezi forgetting-what-they-used-to-know and an obsession with dwelling on traaageeeDEEE without relief-or-considering how weee’d feeeeeeel~ ♪♪♪ --so just gonna enjoy-what-i-caaaaaan about iiit~ ♪♪♪

Okay time for bankruptcy

> CHAPTER 11. History's Most Notorious Haters

Let’s see how effectively my perky new lowered-expectations attitude lets me enjoy this comic  *click*

wut

Oh.  so is this Dave drawing comics about current events or Regular Calliope doing so for our very first lanky look at her presumably-grown-up-more cherub form

> Knight: Keep it real.

HOLY SHIT IT’S DAVEBOT AND ARADIA

so we just get to SEE them?!  just like that???  no buildup or anything?  :D

Okay I’m marking out a little that’s a good sign.  Also what a nerdy cop-out to turn the roboteyes into glasses that’s barely passable which is perfect, the rest of his outfit looks pretty cool tho

DAVEBOT: and thats reason four hundred nineteen why despite my mans many accomplishments i will never acknowledge big skateboardings contrived message that tony hawk is the quintessential skater of our generation ARADIA: o_o DAVEBOT: not in these trying times

Good to see Ultimate Dave is being true to form with regards to the core of his personality

DAVEBOT: beep boop ARADIA: i have told you several times that i was a robot before and i know for a fact you dont have to say beep boop DAVEBOT: hm that sounds fake does not compute ARADIA: david DAVEBOT: mom

I was with this conversation until the last two lines what the fuck

(I’m reading into it aren’t I, Aradia was trying to be atypically proper -- even though she wouldn’t have the frame of reference to know without being specifically told that “Dave” was considered nickname shorthand for the human name David, and thus if she DID know there’s no reason she’d use it except to troll him -- and Dave’s just mocking her response.  Without any shame about his continued weirdness of calling people Mom, and by without any shame I mean he made the choice EXPLICITLY to intentionally evoke the awkwardness.  Wow I got a lot out of two lines.)

(Oh, also alt!Callie’s true Jade-body incarnation here probably prompted her to start using “David” by example.  There, various mysteries solved via a pile of assumptions probably to be disproven in the next couple lines I read.)

The Knight and the Maid stare at each other briefly, having exchanged enough meaningful glances over their time together to know when to drop it.

Would Time players have an easier time gelling this way, like this particular smoothness?  Dropping it just before it gets weird or excessively irritating?

(Overclasspecting)

ARADIA: i think we have exchanged enough meaningful glances over our time together to know when to drop this DAVEBOT: what i enjoy about our conversations is that you just say things like that

OKAY I SNRK’D AT THAT.  That was funny.

Initially.  And now I’m concerned whether Aradia is being controlled by the narrative-speak, or whether they’re both just humorously referencing the meta-text they can both see, or--

ARADIA: oh is that what you enjoy ARADIA: well we are both an infinite number of years old living countless lifetimes at once but thats no reason to waste any of our...

WHAT??!?  She’s an Ultimate Self too?!?

Um, okay!  Yeah!  So they’re BOTH just riffing on the narrative then.  But... why would Dave need a robot body to accommodate his Ultimate Psyche without getting sick but Rose not need it?  I can understand Dirk not needing it because the merging of the full breadth of his multiversal individuality gels well with him being a God of the aspect governing the power of his multiversal individuality, but Aradia?

Were the robot bodies not necessary after all, and the sickness Rose suffered and Obama thought Dave would have suffered some sort of ruse?  Are there shenanigans afoot?  (Or are we going with the “troll biology is better” cop-out?)

She knows how this will play out, having undoubtedly tried this joke on her friend in some timeline or another. Their rapport reflects a unique combination of their matching aspects but greatly differing classes. One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

WH

WHAT????

PASSIVE SERVANT OF THE ASPECT?!? WHAT THE FUCK

Okay if that means anything like it sounds like I guess my class chart is finally blown up, sure, they only waited (*checks last edit date*) SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS TO BLOW THAT GUESS UP, SURE

Wow.  Okay, I feel some obligation to jump to conclusions and say the whole class chart is wrong, but let me stay strapped in to see if “passive” is as literal as one would expect alt!Callie to mean, or it just means “an active class passive compared to other classes”.  And, serving the aspect?  Oh dammit, now people are gonna come at me advocating a Maid / Page dichotomy about actively serving the aspect versus allowing the aspect to be served... or Page / Maid even, jesus

I wish I had enough energy to have those chats anymore.  I’d rather hold on and see the whole ridiculous chart scheme they have in mind... which is definitely (and hopefully) the one Andrew really drew up at the time and not made up by the staff, even if it throws away plenty of my old work...  I’ll just stop thinking about it and keep reading.

...

--no, I don’t think I can just stop thinking about it yet.  Dammit, brain.

So um.  Maids serving their aspect.  There was a whole “Maids serve” thing going on throughout the whole plot of Homestuck, but despite how prevalent it was, I wrote it off as the story riffing on the classical definition of Maid when the actual stuff Maids accomplished was something different and more specific, just like Knights constantly got riffed on for chivalry and the like.  Furthermore, service seemed like a really shitty class definition, when class definitions are the verbs one uses to interact with reality through Aspects to change the way reality unfolds, and “serving” isn’t really an action that results in change, implying a distinct deficit of agency that I wouldn’t have viewed as fair.  (Especially since you originally think “meant to serve others” and not “meant to serve the aspect”, implying even LESS agency.)  Furthermore, MOST passive classes from their descriptions seem to have a propensity to act “as if by the will of the aspect”, so even with the nuance of “serving the aspect”, devoting an entire class verb to service would just step on the territory of other active/passive class pairs’ passive sides, right?

But... IF we were to take this for granted as what it SEEMS... then concentrating on that angle of “serving the aspect” implies a whole lot more agency than a service class might sound on its surface.  The definition fits with the story better once you contextualize all the Maid-y references to service around Jane, for instance, with the additional idea of “serving Life” by baking prolifically and creating more of its symbols in food and--

--fuck.  “Serving”, like serving to others.  Serving the aspect as its attendant AND serving it out to others that need it.  Maybe this still IS part of the Additive class pair!  Whoa.  :O

Okay okay so, what I/we thought before was:

Create/Add - Maid / Sylph

Destroy/Reduce - Prince / Bard

But “additive” really isn’t an elegant verb compared to the “Destroyer” classes, so... could it be the “Servants” and the “Destroyers”?  Like Maids cleaning up and healing the broken wreckage strewn through the halls by a bratty Prince’s tantrum???

It’d certainly be weird... and it’d CERTAINLY be a wild twist where I was partially wrong in some fascinating ways but not entirely off base?

One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

And yet, I can’t bet on this being the situation yet; not at all.  First, it relies on the idea that alt!Callie’s explicit narrative here is slightly misleading, which would be a pretty extreme thing to commit to, even for a technical truth like “she was saying it was passive relative to other classes even though it’s technically “active””.  Second... it would mean that Muses are even more wildly defined than the previous insinuation of hers, that the Sylph -- what we thought was the passive additive class -- was not enough like a Muse compared to a Witch.  Muses not being that Additive?  I could grudgingly understand that, but Muses not being anything like passive Servants?!  That would be EXTREMELY weird!

So... there’s not a whole lot of chance that I’m not dramatically wrong somewhere about these classes!  In a way that throws the entire chart into disarray!

I’m... oddly excited?  Huh.

That’s a pretty nice surprise that I actually feel that way.

:)

(Don’t hit me up all at once to discuss this Classpect development over Discord, I’ll still need a few days without talking about Homestuck to recharge as usual.  Like... maybe wait and come at me as a group chat? So I’m not talking about the latest developments separately with everyone?  No that wouldn’t work, how about... guh I dunno, look my outlook’s a little more positive right now but dealing with Homestuck still takes emotional energy okay?)

Okay the rest of this page...

ARADIA: ... DAVEBOT: time then make a weird face ARADIA: ........ DAVEBOT: waste time DAVEBOT: time ARADIA:............. DAVEBOT: i experience all points of time simultaneously please just say time and make a weird face

This is true.

ARADIA: .................. DAVEBOT: cmon megido youre killing me clocks ticking ARADIA: ... ARADIA: time o_o

The Maid casts a furtive glance around the empty crew quarters, as though to search for someone more sympathetic to her bit.

ARADIA: tough crowd

Dorks.

> ==>

(Lazy fruit-throwing sword-training I won’t bother to screenshot but looks fun)

(I mean, really lazy looking, these people really don’t have Andrew’s knack for action composition that would make the same amount of gif-creation effort feel like a microcosm of the event they’re depicting, unfortunately.  Again, I don’t blame them; Andrew was just too good at it.)

DAVEBOT: ok heres one DAVEBOT: how old do you think you are ARADIA: emotionally? ARADIA: that is a pretty heavy topic DAVEBOT: you know damn well thats not what i meant ARADIA: you know I have been through a lot dave DAVEBOT: ok ARADIA: its just so kind of someone DAVEBOT: ok i get it ARADIA: to finally ask how i feel ARADIA: i am beside myself with emotions ARADIA: i want to open up DAVEBOT: jesus christ ARADIA: shall i open up about my past traumas to you ARADIA: would you enjoy that ARADIA: to think even a frog like me can work through their pain with a dear friend ARADIA: you have truly blessed me on this day dave strider

Is Aradia JUST trolling here or is her Ultimate Self grappling with a ton of real unresolved trauma too that she’s bullshitting around Dave-style?

DAVEBOT: times fun when youre having flies

Okay that’s a damned good frog pun.

Alright now Davebot’s rapping

DAVEBOT: lacking tact i stay stacked while i breach contract DAVEBOT: sacred vows disavowed got divorce fever DAVEBOT: i leave her DAVEBOT: dont look back dont perceive her ARADIA: do you want to talk about it :( DAVEBOT: about what ARADIA: would you say you are hung up on leaving your wife and friends behind

Goddamnit is DAVE’S ton of real unresolved trauma leaking into his raps unintentionally Dave-style??  I knew we had to address it when we cut to Davebot but how about LESS TRAGEDY IN THIS COMIC MAYBE

DAVEBOT: arent you even a little guilty about ditching your boyfriend ARADIA: what ARADIA: oh fuck

Wh

But she knew what she was doing when she did it she explicitly did it didn’t she?  Epilogues quote:

DAVEBOT: what about your boy DAVEBOT: eyepatches ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

And then they stepped through the sky hole more or less.  Did like, distracted Ultimate Aradia not realize exactly how long she was leaving Sollux for, ie forever?  Or did she “ascend” to Ultimate status later and hadn’t thought back to the full consequences of her actions within this timeline?  Or both?  From the looks of the link we’ll probably find out on the next pa--

--Wait.  Something else I just thought of, unrelated.

If Aradia is an Ultimate Self, that’s another coincidentally Ultimate version of someone hanging around that happens to be on the prospective list of Soul-Powered Jujus that might have their creation loops closed in the coming story.  Could those two things play into each other somehow?  Like instead of their souls getting stuffed into the items, their “Ultimateness” is?  Or as if that’s a necessary component, or...  no, I’m probably overthinking things.

> (Months in the past, but not many...)

Uh huh.  Is that flashing because he’s “watching” Aradia leave?  But I thought Aradia SAID she was leaving--

> (==>)

--and that black hole portal doesn’t look as cool as it sounded in the Epilogues.  But why was Aradia acting surprised, she said “I’ll probably just cut him loose” mere MOMENTS before entering the portal, did she mean “cut him loose” as in “I’m going to talk to him before leaving” and then just IMMEDIATELY forget that she didn’t say anything to him because she cared so little???

Wait.  Waaaait wait wait.  I think.  I think maybe I missed some subtext.  Lemme do some fuller quotes here:

ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

His gaze remains fixed on her. She blinks and looks away, unsure what to say next. He’s standing perfectly still, presumably waiting for her to say something. She met him... what was it? Once, twice before? She can’t remember. But she knows this is a very different Dave. Aside from the metal skin, he seems implacably confident. But then, people go through changes. She’s been through more than her share. She cocks an eyebrow, recalling her own stint with a metal body.

DAVEBOT: hey earth to whats your face ARADIA: oh ARADIA: its aradia

[...]

DAVEBOT: youre coming DAVEBOT: better decide quick i doubt that dank fuckin hell funnel is staying open for much longer ARADIA: yes i suppose so ARADIA: thats where all the action is right? DAVEBOT: all the action that matters yeah ARADIA: off we go then :) DAVEBOT: word

He holds out his hand. She looks around, and assumes he means for her to take it, so she does. She didn’t know someone could fly this fast. He nearly yanks her arm out of its socket. She considers reminding him that maybe this isn’t necessary, since she can fly too. But she doesn’t want to risk saying more embarrassing stuff around this outrageously cool dude. Besides, they’re through the wormhole before she can even finish the thought. It vanishes the moment they’ve crossed.

...this was a SHIPPING thing wasn’t it.  She’s impressed as hell with Striderbot, she SAID she’d cut things off with Sollux, and then she was so busy being swooped off her feet and into the portal that she forgot to actually say anything to him.  Is that what happened????

Ultimate Self Davebot x Ultimate Self Aradia.  Huh.  Didn’t see that coming.  (Though, again... they could make it SLIGHTLY clearer that this wasn’t just a blatant continuity error.)

Anyway, a rare-don’t-get-used-to-it [S] page...

> [S] (Gaze.)

...Okay that was kinda funny.

> (==>)

SOLLUX: h0w the fuck am i g0ing t0 get d0wn fr0m here.

HAH!  Okay, he’s taking it pretty well.  :)  --and THAT’s what she realized she forgot, giving him a flight down from the tower before leaving.

GOOD.  KEEP THINGS HUMOROUS EVEN WHEN LITERAL ABANDONMENT IS HAPPENING.  THAT’S the Homestuck I was missing.  :)  :)  :)

> Back to reality.

(Since the black hole is outside “canon” reality.)

Those are some cool poses-AHAH JESUS CHRIST ALT!JADE YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING XD

COULD YOU MAYBE HAVE CLEANED UP THE DRIED BLOOD AT SOME POINT OR IS SOME OF THAT FRESH FROM EATING MORE RAW MEAT

(Lord English’s blood leaving permanent timeless bloodstains would be a cool new thing to squeeze into canon i admit, i wouldn’t blame them for taking the excuse even if you could find small canon counterexamples I’m not sure of but dimly think might exist)

((ALSO SHE’S GONNA BE TINY NEXT TO THEM I DUNNO IF THAT MAKES IT MORE TERRIFYING OR LESS, PROBABLY MORE))

DAVEBOT: so youre telling me you dont even feel a little bad that you ditched him to be a weird death acolyte ARADIA: no i think he found my wiles both charming and irresistible DAVEBOT: not even an ounce of guilt or self doubt huh DAVEBOT: just like that DAVEBOT: no conversations about the greater good DAVEBOT: no revelations about your feelings

Is Aradia a jerk or weird?  Can’t decide.

ARADIA: do you often find your faith in yourself shaken like this or is it a new experience now that your mortal coil has been left behind DAVEBOT: what ARADIA: do you think now that all that is left of you is a literal ghost inside of a machine you are more or less likely to embrace finality DAVEBOT: oh dope more cult of one shit DAVEBOT: immortality changed you ARADIA: could it be that you are projecting your feelings onto my situation DAVEBOT: does not compute rose jr ARADIA: ... ARADIA: we dont have to talk about it DAVEBOT: thanks

Wow, I actually can’t follow this conversation at all.  Let me stare at it for a sec...

...okay, the first part she’s talking about DAVE’s faith in HIMself being shaken, not her own.  She’s not asking if he relates to HER experience, she’s contrasting it.

Then, asking if he’d be more likely to embrace death, or... Time?  Death.  Whether his self-worth has changed because he might view himself as “less real”, something Aradia doubtless struggled with when she was a robot who already had so many excuses to devalue herself at the time?  And then Dave talks about “cult of one” shit what does that even mean-...

OH.  Like she’s a death cult.  Gooot it.  Because Aradia’s of the position that death and ending should be celebrated, and Davebot understandably isn’t entirely bought in.  This is as hard to parse down as one would EXPECT conversations between two Ultimate Selves to be hard to parse down, unlike Rose and Dirk where their insane missions and glaring flaws shine bright enough through it all that you can follow their conversation flow easily.

JADE: They sit in each other's presence, the silence between them as meaningful as any words they could exchange. DAVEBOT: its always really cool to hear how meaningful my silences are DAVEBOT: especially while DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: especially while i am attempting to experience them

Alt!Callie pulling a narrative-text AFTER a talk-identifier like “JADE:” is really hilarious in my opinion.

JADE: i do not need your approval. the story will continue how it must. DAVEBOT: beep boop hater detected ARADIA: wow is that true JADE: i am not a hater. DAVEBOT: classic hater line DAVEBOT: i know this because i am pouring through genuine actual quadrabytes of information on historys most notorious haters JADE: no, you aren’t.

Pffffff. This is pretty fun.

DAVEBOT: you are the exact opposite of a hater ARADIA: a liker DAVEBOT: ok DAVEBOT: perfect example your tolerance for whatever is going on with DAVEBOT: all this ARADIA: i think she looks quite lovely covered in the viscera of the all-powerful enemy she consumed ARADIA: floating lifelessly in our periphery ARADIA: observing our every action and noting its relevance :) DAVEBOT: uh huh thats what i mean

I was gonna note “liker” as additive for pointless classpect purposes, but really more quoting it just because I really enjoy this conversation.  I’m starting to get sold on the chemistry of these two a lot faster than I expected.

JADE: even though I understand that it must happen, i am growing frustrated with the direction of this conversation. DAVEBOT: do you want to talk about something else stinky JADE: what would you suggest?

How long has that dried fucking blood been on her

DAVEBOT: ok hear me out DAVEBOT: kanaya DAVEBOT: but like DAVEBOT: wearing huge jorts

That explains Homestuck’s twitter earlier

> Weeks in the future, relative to the original point of interest...

Wait wait which point of interest?  This time we were just viewing? *click*

I love what must be this shitty imagination-ship they’re using to cross the substrate of reality

> ==>

Whoaaaa.  So they DIDN’T stay in those outfits for long?  It showed them in a bunk bed earlier, it showed CallieJade still going around blood-covered afterward-- dammit, I’m having a hard time gauging exactly how much time is supposed to have passed between their entry into the black portal, their earlier conversation, and this moment.  And as likely as some are to call this poor scene composition, I can’t think it’s anything but intentional, given we’re dealing with a couple of Ultimate Time players bullshitting with each other.

Moments like these are not rare, and serve a valuable function to the story. They are able to show a passage of time with the bulk of the emotional labor of a lengthy bonding process happening off screen. How did we get here? What have they been through? These questions are often better left open to individual interpretation and can give the one interpreting a sense of ownership of the story.

See?  We’re being trolled is why.  (Even if the authors are pulling the trick Alt!Callie describes maybe a little too damn often, because a cut like this where we’re supposed to fill in the emotional gaps and intervening events ourselves as readers depends on readers’ faith that sensible events and decisions for these characters would OCCUPY the gaps, as if readers don’t have faith that what intervenes WOULD make sense to their understanding of the characters the way the authors are writing them... it just seems like an excuse to do whatever you want without adequately explaining yourself, when in reality if you’d spelled out the events that led to it we’d all cry foul at the mischaracterization.)

...okay, maybe I’m a BIT bitter.  Sorry.  Where were we?

JADE: As a point of curiosity- ARADIA: oh shit!!!!

The dead Cherub possessing the body of an equally deceased Goddess of Space pauses at the interruption.

She doesn’t talk much, then?  Too busy doing whatever talking you’d do as your other possessed Jade body?  Just how temporally related is you controlling THIS Jade compared to when you were controlling the other?  When that Jade pegged you as enjoying contact with friends, are these two just not enough for you, or did you “experience” the trips entirely separately?  I don’t THINK the alt!Callie possessing either Jade is a separate entity from the other, but...

Were she to voice her opinion, it would be that --actually-- it is not unusual for those whose primary concern is The Grander Scheme to have a passing curiosity about the insignificant. So when one really thinks about it, any annoyance with the attendant’s small mindedness is both understandable and warranted.

She pissed

...also, “the attendant”.  Even if “serve” is really the verb here, that phrasing really irks me as if she’s talking down to her.  Which, I mean, makes sense for alt!Callie’s character, but doesn’t make me feel better about this new definition being foisted on us.

ARADIA: :( JADE: as a point of order, you never answered dave’s question. ARADIA: which one he is very chatty JADE: you experience time in a way that is woefully unfamiliar to me and it has... piqued my curiosity enough to learn more. ARADIA: ?_? DAVEBOT: shes asking how old you are

Wait a minute, is Alt!Callie asking a question about a dropped topic from WEEKS ago?!  And is Davebot so in touch with Time and the meta ordering of topics that he actually CAUGHT ON that fast to what she was actually wondering about?????

This is getting more disorienting by the minute.

ARADIA: in this form our bodies stop aging once we reach maturity i think ARADIA: the god tier keeps our physical form locked in a state of undying ARADIA: even in death the bodies do not decay ARADIA: only lay dormant

THAT LAST PART IS FUCKING IMPORTANT.  It’s being brought up intentionally to tell us that JOHN’S DEAD BODY can still be in the wallet Terezi’s carrying around RIGHT NOW without having decayed over the past years.  I remember remarking in SOME previous HS^2 liveblog post of mine that I was alarmed by the decay that would have happened there (can’t find my remark on short notice and don’t really care to), so this explicitly dismisses it so we won’t be surprised by the fact that she could keep it in just-dead condition.

DAVEBOT: like how long have you been alive JADE: yes, that one.

[...]

ARADIA: oh maybe a few hundred years or so DAVEBOT: what JADE: what? ARADIA: well if i had known you were going to be so judgy about it DAVEBOT: when did this happen ARADIA: oh i spent some time in other doomed realities and timelines and came back before anybody could tell i was gone

Hm!

We knew she spent a LONG time in the dream bubbles, enough to talk to “pretty much all of the Nepetas”, but she was actually able to access a universe or universes and hop between them?  That’s not something any time traveller we’ve seen has been explicitly able to do intentionally before, quite like she’s describing.

DAVEBOT: oh just out for a bit of fun then DAVEBOT: just hopped on over to a different reality DAVEBOT: real casual like DAVEBOT: oh hello dont mind me just popping in to see if it really is as doomed as they say it is DAVEBOT: did not disappoint ARADIA: yes almost exactly like that :) DAVEBOT: who did you hang out with are they cooler than me ARADIA: it is complicated to explain DAVEBOT: oh ok nevermind then DAVEBOT: all clear

Yep, he’s kinda bewildered.  Is this Pesterquest stuff she’s referring to?  Did she stop by Pesterquest?

DAVEBOT: a whole alternate universe ripe with the coolest motherfuckers imaginable ARADIA: you were there too i threw your air conditioner into the sun DAVEBOT: wow thats fucked up DAVEBOT: thats not where that goes at all JADE: these events are not-canonical. ARADIA: rude

Ah!  Yeah, almost certainly Pesterquest.  (Still haven’t played that and have little inclination to now that I’m more sure we aren’t being gaslit with intentional continuity errors, just disappointed by actual continuity errors.)  Oh!  And that makes a bit more sense because I imagine that’s Black Hole territory, and that territory outside of Canon seems pretty rich and easy for time-travellers to hop between stories and timelines willy-nilly.  As they’re apt to in fanfics, which is the most appropriate way for things to be in that realm!

DAVEBOT: is that the trope of being hundreds of years old but looking young forever patently sucks ass DAVEBOT: a plot device an asshole would write ARADIA: :( JADE: that is not what i am trying to say at all. DAVEBOT: hmm wow yeah thatd really be a sort of pot/kettle situation i guess DAVEBOT: i cant believe im the only woke one here DAVEBOT: its hard being such a visionary AND such a fine metallic specimen DAVEBOT: but im an altruist first and fucking foremost ARADIA: so selfless JADE: yes, the greater narrative is truly blessed by your beneficent presence. DAVEBOT: oh so you got jokes now huh JADE: i have always had the ‘jokes’ of which you speak, but i have heretofore exercised restraint in laying you low. JADE: i possess knowledge of many of your iterations, as the scope of my powers allows me to exist in several narrative structures at once. DAVEBOT: but can she see why kids love the sweet cinnamon taste of cinnamon toast crunch JADE: i do not know, or care, what that means. ARADIA: neither do i :)

I’m actually really enjoying this conversation

JADE: its cultural significance to you as an earthling is wasted on the two of us entirely, as we have not conflated the misguided notion of clinging to nostalgic cereal advertisement trivia with socially relevant conversation.

Pff she literally checked her meta notes just now to learn what the cereal ads were after admitting she didn’t know what it meant and pretending not to care

> ==>

Oh, closer look at Davebot.  Are those actual SHAPED shades over his robotic eye bulges?  Weird, I thought it was just a lazy line drawn between them with red sharpie at first, Sans style.  That would’ve been funny.

> ==>

Ohh, I get it.  I was gonna say that was an unwarranted reaction... but he just realized that the Time-wait puns will be coming from BOTH his shipmates from now on.  That’s gotta be a downer.  :)

> ==>

HOLY

FUCKING

SHIT

IS ALT-CALLIE LAUGHING!??!?!?!??

That’s REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!!  SHE’S ALREADY LAUGHING OCCASIONALLY THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

“BEST NARRATOR” COFFEE CUP

SHE’S ADORABLE

> ==>

Ah, was that Jade kicking you out?  Or just the multiverse punishing you for being briefly happy :(

--oh, end of the update.  Guess that’s it for now!

...

Alright I know I’m A BIT BEHIND on covering the HS2 commentary,

But

I really would rather wait on that a bit longer if that’s alright.  Real busy and stressful week or two.  (Found out my hair is starting to thin noticeably at age 31!  Quite suddenly, too.  Blood test looks fine so it’s nothing serious... gonna see a doctor to check if anything can be safely done about that, it’s really hurting my self-esteem more than I thought it would.  Didn’t think it would hit my emotions that hard when it eventually happened, knew it was likely but not so SOON... really messing with my anxiety every time I accidentally touch my hair, now.  I’ll deal with it.)

If I sound really aimless in this post, I think it’s cause I am?  My mental and emotional energy’s REALLY drained.  I’m glad that June/July break in HS^2 happened when it did, and I’m definitely glad there’s apparently plenty in HS^2 I can really enjoy, if this update is anything to go by.  Maybe this comic can help lift me up instead of knocking me down.  :)

See y’all later!  More Patreon commentary blogging catchup after some other upd8.

[hpc-media]

The Daily Prophet’s

2020 Supreme Mugwump Candidate Profile Guide

July 24, 2020

Learn about the candidates for Supreme Mugwump and see where they stand on key issues with The Daily Prophet’s 2020 Supreme Mugwump Candidate Profile Guide.

With the large number of candidates campaigning to become the next Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, it can be difficult to distinguish various candidates from one another.

To assist readers in finding information about the candidates in the 2020 Supreme Mugwump Election, The Daily Prophet has produced a Candidate Profile Guide.

All candidates were given the opportunity to submit a brief statement to let voters know about themselves and their platforms. The view and opinions expressed in the statements are those of the candidates and do not reflect the position of The Daily Prophet.

Ivanna Verynhora, age 34, is one of the youngest Delegates the ICW has seen out of Ukraine. Since Muggle unrest in the region took the life of the previous representative of Ukraine, Delegate Neschadymenko, Ms. Verynhora has taken upon herself to strengthen Ukrainian ties with the United Kingdom, Ireland, Italy, Romania, Russia, Spain, and South Korea. An alum of the world-renowned Beauxbatons, Ms. Verynhora was an exemplary student with talents in charms and healing, which she put to use during the 2013 Ukrainian Crisis. With her mastery in Healing magic, she went on to found the ICW’s Committee for Cross Boundary Healers, inspired by the Muggle organization Doctors Without Borders. Funded anonymously—by whom is unclear at this time, but many believe them to be international banking financiers—the committee has expanded into the Middle East, South America, and the United States and Canada. She currently serves on the Committee for International Quidditch and the Committee for International Magical Transportation. Much of Ms. Verynhora's time is spent strengthening Ukraine and little time at ICW meetings or the committees she belongs to—which is to be expected, as the Ukraine has has experienced extreme changes in its government for the last five years, and several turnovers within the Ukranian Ministry, including the loss of Ivannas's late uncle, killed last spring during the Centaur & Giant Uprising in the northern part of the country. 

Despite these tragedies, both personal and nationally, Ivanna hopes that the esteemed title of Supreme Mugwump will be but a stepping stone to her larger goal of facilitating a younger, more progressive, stronger ICW focusing on international ties and bonds between countries for the purpose of mutual aid.

Sitara Noorani, age 35, is one of the most accomplished witches of her age. A graduate of the esteemed school Uagadou, she moved quickly after her schooling to join the Pakistani Ministry of Magic, working with their Control of Magical Creatures division before transitioning into politics to succeed her elder brother in the Pakistani Senate. Since joining the ICW only 3 years ago, she has had notable success in working with Being Outreach as well as in addressing illegal creature movements and breeding across borders in partnership with the Rangers. She has found a friend in Delegate Baptiste, who shares her passion for preventing cross-border illicit activities, and together they have drafted new international law addressing the issue. 

Noorani has only this to say about the upcoming election cycle: “We must continue to strengthen border security across the world, increase education about culture between wizards of all enclaves, and continue monitoring illicit activity among the lower echelons of our society.”

Continuing the procession of younger Delegates tossing their names in the ring for the title of Supreme Mugwump, Estefania Caldera, age 32, comes from one of the largest and most powerful pureblood families in the Caribbean, with branches in Mexico, California, and Brazil. The rising star of the Caldera family, Estefania attended Castelobruxo alongside fellow Caribbean Delegate and classmate Horacio Baptiste—and took special interest in the subject of Magical Eco-Tourism. Her subsequent specialization in the field and her time in the Cuban Ministry for Magic have prepared her to help bring economic prosperity to her region through her practice. Though young, she must not be underestimated by her peers. She has already forged strong connections with the Caribbean, Brazilian, Venezuelan, and Peruvian Delegates, creating a Committee around revitalizing tourism in these regions while highlighting their natural beauty and working closely with Indigenous communities to preserve and celebrate their heritage. 

Caldera says about her candidacy for Supreme Mugwump, “Though I am young, I am not without passion for both Cuba and the magical world at large. For too long, we have idolized industrializing and militarizing our magical nations, but I am calling for peace and for a new age of magical understanding shared by all.”

Horacio Baptiste may be known for his booming voice in ICW meetings, his Caribbean Pride, and his ability to cross the many committee aisles of Nations across the world, but he is more than the handsome face many purport him to be. An alum of Castelobruxo, he first rose to prominence as an Auror for the Commonwealth of the Caribbean Islands. Baptiste’s ambitious track record as an Auror soon gave rise to something far more momentous, as his public image transcended his official title and Baptiste became known as something of a folk hero at the tender age of 24 during his 2010 run for President of the Caribbean Commonwealth. While Baptise lost with grace, he was subsequently offered a position on the ICW with an aging Delegate Ocasio-Cortez’s blessing. As the first-ever Muggleborn elected by the Commonwealth, Baptiste’s position as the Caribbean ICW Delegate is considered boundary-breaking by many. He has not only risen to expectations—he has shattered them. Currently, Baptiste sits on the Committees for International Magical Transportation and International Committee for Human Trafficking and Dark Wizard Tracking, and is a proponent for sanctions against magical nations for Human Rights Violations and Dark Magic Violations. Though only 34, Baptiste has garnered the respect of many other Delegates, and has contributed monumentally to the ICW’s efforts at lowering crime internationally, in collaboration with the Rangers and Delegate Caldera. 

Baptist maintains no comment at this time beyond: “I am entirely too busy to talk about the Supreme Mugwump Election. Bother someone who wants to play nice with the press and has less work to do than me. They’ll be easy to find— go ask the Delegate from Sweden.” Fighting words from everyone’s favorite fighting Caribbean.

What more is there to say about Delegate Lyra Arista that she has not already demonstrated over her many years of service to the ICW? Elected to the ICW in 1958 at the age of 21, she was the youngest Delegate ever elected in America, and has only continued to be a trailblazer in her 62 years of service. Delegate Arista proved to be a powerhouse while helping create the Human Rights Act for Magical Folk, and she has been a vocal proponent for Natural Magic (or Wild Magic) and expanding Magical education across the globe. Arista is renowned for her magical masteries over charmwork, transfiguration, healing, alchemy, and potions. One of the most esteemed graduates of Ilvermorny, Arista’s been a bastion of the ICW, admired cross-generationally. In America, she has been a proponent for Being rights and education, and has helped expand the LGBT+ movement for equal rights in collaboration with Muggle political allies. In the 90's, Arista advocated to expand magical education access to American magical immigrants, refugees, and the Indigenous population. Her election to Supreme Mugwump would only be a footnote to the aggressively progressive acts she is known for. 

Lyra Arista says about the upcoming election, “I am old, and though I have much to offer to the ICW as its leader, it would not surprise me if someone younger takes my place. But I have done my work for over 50 years, and if elected I will do so for another half-century, as is my duty to magical folk across America the Beautiful and Earth the Magnificent. Blessed be.”

Cyprian Patenaude has been nothing but a joy to the ICW Delegate circuit. As the newest ICW Delegate, at the age of 30 they are well-loved and well-known in the Western Hemisphere, having attended both Ilvermorny and Castelobruxo. Patenaude became a rising star in the Canadian Senate for Magic, elected from his home city of Montreal in 2013 through a grassroots campaign after leading several organizations concerned with underserved magical communities, championing early magical education, and combating Auror brutality. His ties to MACUSA through the Patenaude family helped to establish several laws concerning magical secrecy within the United States and Canada. In addressing political unrest in both regions, Delegate Patenaude became a familiar face in the media through his regular attendance at rallies and protests. On the subject, then-Senate member Patenaude said, “It's not political grandstanding that got me to this position, it is empathic standing, with people both magical, Being, and Muggle. I am not doing this for political clout. It is the right thing to help where you can, ease tensions, and create a better atmosphere for healing.” Delegate Patenaude would know a thing or two about healing after having been viciously outed as transgender by American political opponents and instigators. Patenaude took this in stride, advocating fiercely to expand Canadian magical law for privacy protection, and he was elected to the ICW by the Candian government shortly thereafter in 2018. He often jokes that his efforts in this realm are for his own safety, as there have been no less than three attempted assassinations since the debacle. 

Patenaude is a proponent for Being rights, de-militarization of Aurors, blocking illicit animal sales, and raising awareness around LGBT+ issues among magical communities. Though young, Patenaude is respected by his opponents due to his gregarious ability to broker deals and swiftly end infighting in committees. Like Delegate Baptiste, Patenaude has no comment at this time, likely owing to the fact they are currently occupied dealing with political unrest in the Canadian-American district of the world.

Readers have always been fascinated by Delegate Sergio Gutiérrez, who, while proud of his long and unbroken ancestral wizarding line, quite frequently shocks the stately old families of British wizarding society with its high civility and careful social graces. After completing his formal education at the Madrid School Of Magic and Durmstrang Institute, Gutiérrez made Keeper for the Barcelona Eagles, prior to the Spanish Quidditch Association (AQE) and the Catalonian Quidditch Association (AQC) split. While amassing a large fan following with his record-breaking, jaw-dropping saves and daring high-speed maneuvers, Gutiérrez discovered his ability to attract support for political issues and a passion to change lives through his advocacy. Critical to Gutiérrez’s successful transfer into politics was the convergence of several crises within the Spanish wizarding community, which slashed public faith in the current Delegate’s ability and the wizarding political class. These events presented an opportunity for Gutiérrez to prove himself a skilled manueverer both on and off the Quidditch pitch. In addition to tapping into widespread discontent with political elites, Gutiérrez also strongly advocated for a retreat from Spain’s involvement with international affairs to focus on its own issues. At age 51, Gutiérrez, who considers himself a self-styled political outsider among his fellow Delegates, still leads a very public life (one may recall the ongoing investigation into whether Gutiérrez converted campaign funds to rather scandalous personal use in 2019), and can always be counted on for his transparent stance on issues and his commanding approach to diplomacy—in particular, his meteoric clashes with Cyprian Patenaude. To detractors, he’s a dangerous cheerleader for an insular and traditional wizarding community at both a national and international level. To supporters, he is one of the only Delegates with a strong and loud enough voice to bring about real change and unity. 

On the subject of the Supreme Mugwump election, Gutiérrez said, “What I know is that people are tired. Tired and pushed beyond their limit by the demands of this new ‘modern’ wizarding world, as they say, and its politicians that push policy after policy for this new group and that new group down their throats while ignoring our real, shared issues…we have forgotten that in our history there are simple answers to complex problems.”

For Delegate Kotov, age 40, his personal life is his political life. As a young man, Kotov attended Durmstrang to study martial magic for a brief time, withdrawing the same year the institution began to admit Muggleborns and part-goblins under the leadership of Headmaster Matvey Golovin. Kotov’s parents then began his private homeschooling, although many have long speculated Kotov was in fact transferred to the secretive Scholomance to complete his education. Proud of his centuries-long wizarding heritage, and regularly extolling the values of fraternity, tradition, and legacy in his speeches, Kotov is a man who has never forgotten his past while keeping his eye firmly fixed on the future. During his homeschooling years, a group of vampires newly displaced by a freshly implemented Romanian policy attacked and killed Kotov’s childhood friend. The event, followed by sluggish and failed attempts to capture the vampires, left Kotov with a resolve to shake the wizarding world out of its stupor concerning dark creatures. Kotov would work at the Romanian Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for all of six months before quitting; during that time it was his capture of infamously “uncatchable” vampire Sebastian Vântu which catapulted Kotov to international recognition. After resigning, Kotov pivoted immediately into politics, championing an increase in international private and public security for the wizarding world, and pledging to tackle magical creature-related violent crime rates and threats to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy by cracking down on criminal offenders and allowing Aurors greater freedom and less government oversight. Despite his colleagues’ voiced concerns that his actions may cause further breakdowns in negotiations between the ICW and sentient magical creatures, 

Kotov remains sanguine and determined about the future, though he has some choice words to offer about his fellow Delegates in advance of the upcoming election. “They have no idea what they’re dealing with,” Kotov said grimly, in his statement last Tuesday. “Half of them are idiots who follow Patenaude and his kind–magical creatures are just like us, etc, etc.—and half of them are people like Arista, heads stuck in another century and no idea how to deal with the growing number of strikes and crime rates among the magical creature communities. Either way, while the ICW tries to negotiate and sits in committees, their numbers grow and the violence continues—and something is better than nothing.” It’s a tricky dilemma he raises, and one the magical community has conveniently avoided answering head-on, though Kotov has received campaign funding from many old, well-known wizarding families that suggests he has their support.

Serving his freshman year on the ICW at a shocking 22 years of age, Sven Nordstrøm is the fresh face of Swedish international politics whose influential family name precedes his appointment to the Confederation. The Nordstrøm family have for centuries stood tall (and no, we’re not just referring to their statuesque genetics) as pillars of traditional wix values in the Scandinavian region, with generation after generation passing the political torch on from father to son. Delegate Nordstrøm’s own brother, Gunnar Nordstrøm, is a favorite to take over for current Swedish Minister Engström at the end of his term, which has led to speculation regarding the young Delegate’s novice appointment over Gunnar’s notably more cultivated experience and presence in politics. But don’t write off young Sven just yet! He may thus far be known in delegation meetings for his looming, mountain-like presence and choice few words, but Delegate Nordstrøm has a few tricks yet up those long sleeves, making several controversial statements and voting decisions without any predictable formula that seem to go against every ideal his political platform was built around. Are the boy’s wildcard antics toward shock and awe a crafty plot to attract favor and attention to his icy, old-fashioned country? Or is Delegate Nordstrøm simply having the last laugh at us all? 

When asked for a comment, Nordstrøm just had this to say: “And why the [expletive] would I tell you anything? Who even are you?” Who indeed. We’ll be following Delegate Nordstrøm at the upcoming conference with keen interest.

As recognizable in the society papers as he is on the delegation floor, Atticus Ayers has been an asset to British-French wizarding political relations for upwards of twenty years. Savvy local readers will surely recognize Ayers from his meteoric post-Hogwarts rise through the ranks of Britain’s own International Magical Office of Law, or perhaps from his brief but memorable five-year stint as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, during which time Ayers garnered widespread respect and adoration as a moderate judicial voice amongst the uproarious radicalism and reforms that swept through the Ministry of Magic following the Second Wizarding War. After presiding over a number of landmark Wizengamot proceedings, Ayers settled in the magical district of Montmartre in France with his family, but he’s been a staple French Delegate since day one, where he’s continued his campaigning for Being equality as well as amendments to the Statute of Secrecy in favor of privacy and protection of magicfolk, their livelihoods, and their assets. 

Nowadays, Delegate Ayers is known throughout Europe for throwing outrageous fundraisers in support of the causes he’s backing, with some of the most famous faces in the international magical community making regular appearances. Some may raise brows at Ayers’ “party for politics” methodology, but there’s no arguing that beauty, popularity, and a knack for entertaining are powerful tools when it comes to reaching the upper echelon of magical folk with the means to enact change.

The Daily Prophet will continue to run extended profiles of candidates and bring you updates on the September 9th election.

[horizonwitch]

The Archangel Theory - A Possible Explanation to MCR's new symbolism

Hello! This is a very long post, but I hope it’s worth the reading. Sorry.

I am Nana, and today I bring you a fan-theory on the meaning behind MyChem's symbols presented to us in the occasion of the band's return announcement and later on, at the actual reunion concert day.

First Considerations:

1. being it, as the title implies, a fan-theory, I do not claim any of the exposed to be factual when associated to MCR. I bring this thread to you guys in hopes that we can discuss, expand, teach and learn with each other, and maybe come to some sort of conclusion. Riddles are fun to play, especially together. I love riddles in fandom experience. :)

2. I highly apologize for my limited vocabulary and weird phrasing. I am not a native english speaker, but I'll try my best to make this understandable to everyone;

3. Despite my personal beliefs and stupid jokes, I mean no disrespect to any religion or symbol mentioned in here. (just as much as I believe MyChem also doesn't, on the wild possibility of this thread being on point with what they planned, lol).

That being said, before we start, I have some thanks to give:

this theory was only put together thanks to my lovely mychem group chat, composed by Raffs, Clara, Caroline and Hana. thanks for all the time and effort we shared, and for holding my brain with your bare hands when it was about to melt, friends.

Also thanks to Frank Iero himself, for laughing at me on twitter for me not being able to understand the reunion clues, despite "wearing a California 2019 shirt for 6 years". I humbly accept the possibility of this theory having nothing to do with the truth, but I sure hope I can laugh back at you in the end, rat. I love you.

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

Now, let's finally head to The Archangel Theory, or, as I like to call it, The “If We're Not Careful We'll Turn Into Catholics” Theory, and how it all started.

It was Halloween. Everyone here was minding their own damn business (I was being a clown on twitter, Hana was putting on her badass revenge-themed makeup. You know, the usual). And we all know what happened: MCR raised gracefully from the dead, dropping brand new symbolism and a stunning angel image to our poor panicked hearts. A few days later, when Hana’s crying ruined makeup was long gone and everyone calmed the F down a little bit, people started to ask themselves: okay, cool, but what does it mean?

Like many of you, the first thought that crossed my mind was tarot. Because, well, how f-ing cool would it be, right? I draw tarot everyday. I just loved the idea. Mychem posting a latin countdown with some eerie photo was just… yea, I was very excited with this.

Many of us also associated the symbols with past albums and even with the members themselves. All of these theories are very valid to me, and I loved reading them. I agree with many points raised.

Well, everything was fine (as fine as it could be, because I am so damn curious). The Return concert happened at the faithful date of December 20, California. We all freaked out and enjoyed the noble services’ of days_fate and diet_shampoo’s streaming. All that jazz.

But then: well… another angel. I started to think to myself: is this a pattern? The show ends, we get very emotional, everything is okay (i hate this pun) with the world. Frank Iero makes a post-concert post on instagram, talking about how everything was pure Magick. With a K.

For those unfamiliar, this is an occultist term related to Aleister Crowley’s Thelema, to differentiate the religious concept from the “stage magic” that we are used to. A very carefully picked name that I highly doubt someone would drop around without knowing what it implies.... Don’t even start me with the K and C keys being so damn far away from each other on a keyboard.

At this point me and my groupchat were starting to be very done with Frank’s clownery (we indeed love him very much for that), and so we started to hurt our minds every single day since then. that’s the result:

THE ARCHANGEL THEORY

Let’s Return™ to the basics: angels and, probably, tarot.

Funny enough, there are actually angels in tarot cards. There are many types of decks, but for this we are using the most famous one, which most people believe holds ancient symbolism, The Rider-Waite Tarot.

There are many angels and archangels mentioned in the Bible (only a few by name, tho), but only four of them made it into being represented in tarot cards: Uriel, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. Let’s get the gang together and meet the holy crew (please, forgive me for the puns).

Uriel:

whose name means “the light of god”, “the flame of god”. It’s the Wise Angel, often pictured as the one who holds books and scrolls and bears holy knowledge and understanding. or Clarity, if you will. They’re sort of the goth one™, associated with the Tartarus and being pictured as pitiless as any demon would; even holding the key to Hell during the end of times, Uriel is described as the angel who watches “over thunder and terror”. Uriel is sometimes even mistaken for a demon (apparently, the eastern catholicism accepts Uriel identity as an archangel, while the western catholicism gives more credit to its dark side, and does not encourage worshiping); this duality comes from the notion that very often, enlightenment may be the end result of dark times. Every archangel has many, I said MANY symbols attached to them, so other elements associated with this angel can be found on the image attached to this post.

About Uriel’s Tarot Card: if you were raised in a catholic family and slept through as much catechism as I did as a kid, maybe you’ll be surprised to know that Lucifer, Satan and Uriel are all different beings. Let it be a lesson: no matter how edgy of a teen you are, please accept knowledge from any possible source. Putting this thread together would’ve been so easier to me now if I did, haha... That being said, our angel Uriel is actually the Devil in the Devil Tarot card, which meaning touches on addiction, obsession, feeling imprisoned or restrained, but it being only an illusion of powerlessness. This card is an invitation to free yourself, fight distractions and temptation, and finally fulfill your destiny. Please, consider that tarot readings are very deep and variable; there’s extensive books only on tarot meaning, so I won’t explore much on each card. that’s just a very general notion.

Some sources also consider Uriel to be the responsible for the change represented in the Death card, despite not being directly pictured in such card. As stated before, Uriel is associated with the concept Death brings, being a turning point, and ending route.

The symbolism presented in the Devil card (as for the Rider-Waiter deck):

“At the foot of the Devil stand a man and a woman, both naked and chained to the podium on which the Devil sits. They appear to be held here against their will – but look closer, and you will notice that the chains around their necks are loose and could be easily removed. Each has small horns on their head, like the devil’s, a sign that they are becoming increasingly like him the longer they stay here. Both have tails, a further symbol of their animalistic tendencies and raw instincts, and the grapes and the fire on their respective tails signify pleasure and lust.”

Poor people. If only they knew better. A lil bit of Clarity, huh?

That’s it for MCR’s clarity symbol, conveniently shaped as a candle.

Michael:

whose name means “who is like god” (being it a rhetorical question, to mean that no one equals to God). It’s the Protector Angel. They’re the leader of angels in the battle against demons, Defender of God’s realm against Satan in the Book of Revelation. Michael is a warrior, and is often seem with the sword in hand, to allure to the idea of bravery. They’re described as the angel of strength, protection and Courage.

About Michael’s Tarot Card: Michael appears on the major arcana Temperance. In fact, even the name “Temperance” comes from the process of refining and strengthening materials in metallurgy. this one likes swords a lot, huh. That’s a card which meaning touches on patience and prudence. It means already having a clear vision and knowing what you want to achieve. Now It’s all about thinking before action, and accepting the balance of things, blending the opposites to achieve an ideal solution. Apparently a very suited card for a warrior of faith. Prepare yourself: in my research, I’ve found a source that associates this card with the color blue (the very same of the archangel) and the musical note G. Yes, the universe has a strange sense of humor.

The symbolism presented in the Temperance card: “The vessels in the angel’s hands represent the vessel that contains eternal life. The flowers are Irises symbolising the goddess Iris who links God to humanity. Iris travels from one end of the world to another, into the depth of the sea and the underworld. The angel’s feet, one on land and one in water, symbolise the unification of the external and internal, conscious and subconscious. It also represents testing the waters before jumping into the unknown. The red wings on the angel represent blood which symbolizes life. The sun conceals a crown which represents a connection to higher power. The triangle on the angel’s dress is an equilateral triangle and symbolise spirit, divinity, fire, life, prosperity, and harmony. It can also symbolise God and the holy trinity. The square outside the triangle represents protection and stability.”

The MCR symbol for Courage is a drop. is it a drop of blood? for an warrior angel and their endless battles on God’s behalf? Of water, the waters of unknown? The water of balance of life? I don’t know.

When Michael / was a young genderless being,/ their father…

Gabriel:

whose name means “strength of god”. It’s the Messenger Angel; Gabriel is often portrayed playing the trumpet, to make announcements of God’s will. (many angels play the trumpets on Revelations book,, but Gabriel seems to be the most intimately attached to this concept). In the hierarchy of angels, Gabriel seems to occupy a very high position, being knows as the “Left Hand of God” (our Michael aforementioned being the Right-hand angel).

Their famous appearances on the Bible includes appearing to Zechariah and the Virgin Mary, foretelling the births of John the Baptist and Jesus. Islam also has Gabriel appearing for many prophets, telling them the divine plans. In a way, all those messages are basically callings to a higher purpose, a proof of faith, a personal Sacrifice. This idea is reiterated by the symbolism of Gabriel’s tarot card.

Gabriel is also one of the Angels of Death (depending on the religious we are speaking about, there are over 14 different angels with this role). Not in a dark way, their role is to comfort and bring peace to the deceased, guiding them into the light. Gabriel is therefore an angel of mercy, redemption achieved through a proof of faith (often a self-sacrifice, of any nature), after a fair judgement. speaking of which…

About Gabriel’s tarot card: Gabriel appears on the major arcana Judgement, which meaning touches on taking responsibility for your actions, speaking the truth. It’s a beginning/ending type of card, but a different kind of change than the one represented on one of Uriel’s card, Death. While Death brings something unstoppable, more powerful than anyone’s options, Judgement usually portraits something you can actually choose to take part in. But it also your responsibility any consequences of not taking this step. A fair judgement, indeed.

The Symbolism presented in the Judgement card: “The angel with the Trumpet could be a reference to the angels and the seven trumpets in Revelation, bringing apocalypse and resurrection. The white banner with the red cross can be St. George Flag, and a reference to Saint George gives Judgement the symbolism of sacrifice done in the name of our faith. Both the flag and the trumpet are military symbols of authority. A man, a woman and a child are being called from the tomb of ego consciousness. The three people are reflected on the other side of the river, another symbol of the soul’s victory over death. The three people are also a symbol of the three pillars of the tree of life. The man and the woman has changed side from the familiar feminine on the left and masculine on the right. In Judgement it is the other way around. Perhaps it is to unify us and to tell us to look at a situation from a different perspective, from within. You are seeing the pillars from the Angel’s perspective. This symbolises to raise your thinking and ask for Divine Perspective. The mountains represent the structure that surrounds us all.”

Calling all units! Time for the ultimate vibe check.

I guess that’s it for our third MCR symbol, Sacrifice, shaped as hand. Is it a left hand, just like one of Gabriel’s titles? that would be interesting.

But not so fast.

Now we come to an interesting point. Gabriel is the first of our angels to have a sculpture used by My Chem. :) It’s actually endearing how, if this assumption is correct, they chose the messenger archangel to bring the good news: mcr is alive!

About Gabriel’s sculpture: our Return angel, as some of us already know by this point, is actually a piece called “Angelo e Alma”, by italian artist Pasquale Rizzoli. It is located on Cella Magnani, a memorial chapel of the Magnani family, inside Certosa di Bologna, which is a very antique monastery, later transformed on a monumental cemetery for many italian families. You can take a look here, it’s stunningly beautiful.

Finished in 1906, this piece was a commission by the widow of a war veteran called Natale Magnani, who apparently died young. As far as I understand written italian, since I speak portuguese (latin languages perks, yey!), it’s still difficult to me to do further research on this family. Being it an old, traditional italian family, there’s tons of Magnanis, but there’s little to no info on Natale or his wife’s lives on the internet, it seems. If you’re italian and have any info about this, please comment. It can actually be relevant to this thread.

This sculpture portraits an angel ascending to heavens, guiding a soul (represented as a woman in a long dress). There’s rose branches and lilies at the feet of both the angel and the soul, as they fly together. These flowers pay homage to Magnani’s family blazon, as stated by the Storia i Memoria di Bologna Project website, that also offers on their site a brief explanation on the meaning behind the many other plants on this piece. they all basically allure to death, sleep, and resurrection. you can check it out here.

The presented symbolism, being an angel appearing to a soul in their travel to the spiritual realm, and even the flowers used, lead me to conclude that this sculpture very likely pictures our Archangel Gabriel, in their judgement roles again.

Now, our holy rpg party already has a mage, a paladin and a bard. It’s time to introduce the most underappreciated (and my personal favorite) class:

Raphael:

whose name means “God heals”. Raphael is the angel for healing, thus making ‘whole’ everything that has been broken. They’re also a patron for lovers, role that he plays by using his healing powers in a non-literal way. Pay attention to the “fixing the broken and making it a whole again” part, that’s the connotation.

Both of these titles come from the roles Raphael played, depicted on the scriptures: the most famous ones being when Raphael was sent by the Lord to heal Tobit of his blindness and to deliver Sarah, his future daughter-in-law, from the demon Asmodeus, who killed every man she married on their wedding night before the marriage could be consummated.

Another famous role commonly related to Raphael is about the Pool of Bethesda. Despite not being mentioned by name, manuscripts of John 5:1–4 describe an angel that blessed this pool, healing the illness of those who touched its waters:

"an angel of the Lord descended at certain times into the pond; and the water was moved. And he that went down first into the pond after the motion of the water was made whole of whatsoever infirmity he lay under". It’s usually given credit to Raphael for this action, since they’re seem using healing power to fulfill God’s will in many occasions through the Bible.

About Raphael’s Tarot card: Raphael appears on the major arcana The Lovers, as the angel blessing the couple depicted. This is a card about romantic, even sexual, attraction, but not purely that. It’s about finding peace within yourself, and in someone else, about the journey to pick “the one” for you. Making a whole out of two halves is a common concept associated with this card.

Symbolism presented on The Lovers card: “the man and the woman in the image are being protected and blessed by an angel above. The couple seems secure and happy in their home, which appears to be the Garden of Eden. The fruit tree with the snake behind the woman is a reference to that story, which tells of humanity's fall into temptation and into the realm of flesh and sensuality. The angel depicted here is Raphael, the angel of air - who is of the same element of the zodiac sign that governs this card: Gemini. Air is associated with mental activity, and communication in particular, which is the foundation for healthy relationships. His blessing seems to give this card a sense of balance and harmony, the symbolization of union in a grand and cosmic sense between two opposing forces.”

Another source adds: “The couple stands in a beautiful, fertile landscape, reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. Behind the woman stands a tall apple tree, with a snake winding its way up the trunk. The serpent and apple tree represent the temptation of sensual pleasures that may take one’s focus away from the Divine. Behind the man is a tree of flames, which represent passion, the primary concern of the man. The twelve flames suggest the twelve zodiac signs, the symbol of time and eternity. The man looks to the woman, who watches the angel, showing the path of the conscious to the subconscious to the super-conscious, or from physical desire to emotional needs to spiritual concerns. The volcanic mountain in the background is rather phallic and represents the eruption of passion that happens when man and woman meet in full frontal nudity.”

Despite the latter being a bit too horny for my tastes, lol, both descriptions reiterate Raphael’s influence on the role of patronizing health and union, a journey of Devotion.

Oh, about the MCR symbol, shaped as a half-sun. at first I couldn’t find a correlation to Raphael and this sun shape, as for the first three angels it was very clear to me since just as I started reading about them. Then I realized the huge sun portrayed on The Lovers card, behind Raphael.

Despite holding its individual meanings, Tarot cards are not meant to me taken isolatedly. (that’s one of the reasons many people are not found of the single card yes-or-no type of drawing). That being said, it is not a surprised to find traces of one card on another, and many shared symbolism. As for the sun, it appears multiple times on the Rider-Waite deck, but only one card holds the same exact half shaped, upside down, centered sun as the MCR symbol. and that’s The Lovers. :)

Now, our romantic archangel lead us to a very lovely part:

About Raphael’s Sculpture: as we waited for MCR to dramatically drop the curtain at the reunion show, we were being watched over by a piece nicknamed “Angel of the Waters,” from the Bethesda Fountain (have you heard this name before?), located in the Bethesda Terrace, Central Park, in NYC. sculpted by Emma Stebbins in 1864, this piece’s history, together with Central Park’s history can be fully read in this awesome article that my friend Clara found: here.

But since we’re already here, let’s try to make a shorter version, focusing on what’s relevant to this thread.

Upon release, the angel, which stands and above and blesses a water fountain, was directly associated with the Bethesda Pool mentioned in the Bible, and the healing acts of Raphael. On the dedication pamphlet it was quoted the very same passage from the Gospel of John, chapter 5, verses 2-4 I’ve mentioned before. It’s a shame I couldn’t find any pictures of this pamphlet on the internet. Old documents, huh. NY people, if you have access to this, I’d love to see it.

If we stopped there, it would be enough evidence to assume the connection to Raphael, but there’s more! There’s some particularities about this statue.

Its conception was a huge deal: Emma was the first woman to receive a major sculptural commission in New York City. Also, she had a female lover, the world-famous American actress Charlotte Cushman, who, for Cedar Miller, historian that wrote about Central Park and Emma’s statue, holds a huge impact on the Angel of Waters actually making into existence. In 1869, Cushman was diagnosed with breast cancer. In addition to having two mastectomies, Cushman tried water cures in England. (Water cures were a big craze from the 1830s through the 1860s). The historian who wrote about them finds it another connection to the statue itself. Unfortunately, Cushman's treatments were ultimately unsuccessful, she passed away in 1875. Emma followed her not long after, in 1882. To this day, the statue remains, and to NY is a gathering place to find tranquility, peace of mind, even in the darkest times through the its 141 years of existence. It’s a place to heal yourself.

It’s not your average Raphael statue.

We have the archangel connection, a devoted couple's backstory, and lesbian/sapphics rights. I don’t know about you, but I can even picture Gerard Way carefully picking this himself, haha.

Oh, a spicy fact I’ve learned while writing this: This angel sculpture is actually even older in MCR’s history, tracing back to revenge era merch. (I didn’t have much access to mcr merch back in the day so I didn’t know about this, I apologize!)

I guess someone got nostalgic for some catholic aesthetics, huh. Bless!

Angels in tarot, bonus addition:

It is valid to mention that not only all of the 4 mentioned archangels have their individual cards, they also appear together in a single card, The Wheel of Fortune. In this card, each angel can be seen in a corner: Raphael (Aquarius) is upper left, Gabriel (Scorpio) is the eagle, Michael (Leo) is the lion, and Uriel (Taurus) is the bull, appearing in disguise, a common thing for angels though the scriptures, it seems.

If you draw tarot, you understand how big of a deal it is. If you’re not familiar, here’s the basic notion: “The wheel of fortune is a card about cyclical change. The wheel keeps on rolling, churning events in a ceaseless progression of ups and downs, either way freeing us from the past. No one can escape its cyclical action, which can feel somewhat terrifying -- no matter whether we are rising or falling. When one is balanced on top of the wheel, there is a moment of crystal clarity. However, the only part of the wheel that's actually not going up and down is the hub, which represents your eternal self. Every one of us will occupy all the points on the wheel at one point or another. The cycle of the wheel is its lesson -- and we can learn to take comfort in it. If you don't like the look of things right now, just wait -- things will change. Of course, if you do like the look of things right now, enjoy it while it lasts, because that will change too!”

It is quite a powerful card that holds all of the aforementioned symbolism. Woa.

More symbolism seem on this card includes:

“The Wheel of Fortune card shows a giant wheel, with three figures on the outer edges. Four Hebrew letters – YHVH (Yod Heh Vau Heh), the unpronounceable name of God – are inscribed on the wheel’s face. There are also the letters TORA, thought to be a version of the word Torah, meaning ‘law’, or TAROT, or even ROTA (Latin for ‘wheel’). The middle wheel has the alchemical symbols for mercury, sulphur, water and salt – the building blocks of life and the four elements – and represents formative power. On the outer circle is a snake, the Egyptian god Typhon (the god of evil), descending on the left side. The snake also represents the life force plunging into the material world. On the right side rises the Anubis, the Egyptian God of the dead who welcomes souls to the underworld. And on top of the wheel sits the Sphinx, representing knowledge and strength.”

THE SECOND SET OF SYMBOLS - STILL A MYSTERY

So, after all this, if any of this is correct at all, we just learned the meaning behind the first four MCR symbols, released on halloween: Clarity, Courage, Sacrifice and Devotion.

Now, what about the ones released at the reunion show, on the merch truck? Well, my friends, we still have a lot to think about.

I am a doctor, and in my profession there’s a saying which instruct us to always think of what seems like a complicated situation, with many possibilities, as a single disease causing many effects. That was my train of thought as I tried to associate these new symbols with the Archangels that we already have. It may have nothing to do with that at all, but it’s worth trying.

Differently from the first set, the second set didn’t get an official release, and does not hold text captions to guide us on it’s meaning. the symbol shapes, however, are easier to associate with tarot cards than the first ones, in my opinion. I’ve seen people online trying to guess it too.

Having the angels and their aforementioned traits as a guiding line, I used some symbolism associated to each one to connect them to a new symbol, as you can see on the picture attached to this post.

I have some major problems with this, tho, the biggest one being the order of the symbols not matching the first set sequence. We had Uriel (Clarity) / Michael (Courage) / Gabriel (Sacrifice) and Raphael (Devotion). The second set order was Sword / Moon / Tower / Wand, so the sequence goes like Michael / Gabriel / Uriel / Raphael. It doesn’t match. Please, help me.

THINGS THAT KEEP ME UP AT NIGHT: ABOUT WITCHCRAFT AND… SOLDIERS?

During the past weeks of my life I’ve been researching all types of things to break this down, so I came across some very unsettling things that may be just wild coincidences or... something else? Just in case, I am putting them here in case anyone finds some connection that I couldn’t.

Sigils and Pagan influences, maybe?

As some people on twitter and reddit noticed, Gerard was using a sigil on his arm that reads “My Chemical Romance”. Every Archangel mentioned here also holds its own sigil, which is shown on the picture attached to this post. While I was excited about the dates for new concerts, I started to think, is there anything special about these dates? I tried to not overthink it because we probably have major influences of disponibilities and,,, Label issues...I don’t know? some very practical stuff going on. But still, I came across an interesting match.

There’s 8 sabbaths, composing the Wheel of the Year, “an annual cycle of seasonal festivals, observed by many modern pagans, consisting of the year's chief solar events (solstices and equinoxes) and the midpoints between them.”

eight sabbaths, eight symbols, huh. Initially, I tried to connect each symbol to a sabbath, but it was very… not satisfying enough to me, so I’m leaving that out; nonetheless, I still believe they hold some meaning similarities.

And it doesn’t stop there.

That our lovely wheel of the year: here. We’re using a northern hemisphere version, since MCR is based in the USA.

The band returned on Halloween, which is the Samhain that occurs between Oct 31 / Nov 1. There’s some minor variation on dates because the Celtic day begins and ends at sunset.

Return Show took place in California, Dec 20: which marks the start of Yule. (Yule dates range from Dec 19 to Dec 22, for the Celtic calendar reasons)

The next sabbath is Imbolt, that takes place on Feb 1 / Feb 2. MCR has nothing announced for this date until now.

2020 concerts will happen during the week of March 20, 21, 25, 28 and 29, In Australia, New Zealand and Japan, as for now. That marks the start of the Ostara sabbath, which start range is March 20/21.

so… can we expect something (anything?) being announced at Feb 1 or 2, or near that? What about all the remaining sabbaths? Is that a reach? is it related at all? oof.

Who said Danger Days isn’t goth enough?

Another VERY interesting thing my group chat found on the internet during our MCR tarot obsession. If this theory is correct, this is not the first time they would be alluring to it. Please look at this pic of Grace Jeanette, The Girl in DD universe, posing with the mailbox on the set of the “Art Is The Weapon”/“Na Na Na” video shoot (2010). (Exact source and photographer unknown; likely taken by Jeanette’s mother). (big thanks to tumblr user killjoyhistory).

Bellow the big “OH HELL” we have four tarot cards, on the very same deck we used for this thread, the Rider-Waite deck. The cards are The Tower, The Devil, Death and Three of Wands.

Please note that it may have no correlation to future works, since DD itself had religious symbolism with the Phoenix Witch and this mailbox (go read the comics if you didn’t already. DD rights!), it may be a DD-only thing. Also, please note that 3 out 4 of theses cards were already mentioned in this thread, all possibly related to archangel Uriel.

To wage this war against your faith in me, MCRMY.

So. This one will sound weird and maybe a reach too, but, hey, mychem is alive and breathing, I guess there’s nothing really impossible, haha….?

Are we all familiar with Gerard liking a lot that green coat? After all those years, I guess so.

Indeed, our lovely frontman used yet another green jacket as his return outfit. This time, it was a military one. As a foreigner, and being very ignorant on how the US Army works, I got curious about the badge on his jacket. Maybe that’s common sense to you guys and I’m just embarrassing myself, but hey! be kind to someone who’s sort of dying inside after all this thinking process, would you?

The badge on Gerard’s jacket happens to be from the 1st Armored Division, a.k.a the Old Ironsides, named after an old ship (and the world's oldest commissioned naval vessel still afloat).

Actually, the nickname “Old Ironsides” trace back to England in 17th century, during their Civil War, but I didn’t find many relevant content / possible connections, besides them being mostly Protestant, in terms of religion… referring to them after all this catholic-conception angel talk is some sort of metaphorical war going on, MCR? Who knows. History-loving english folks, I’m counting on you too now to confirm this, lmao!

The American side of the “Old Ironsides” term, after being passed down from England during their Independence Wars (please be kind with me, my knowledge about american independence is almost 100% from Hamilton the musical lmao, help me) apparently resides, mostly on the US Army/Navy.

Interesting coincidences (?) about this: the Old Ironside ship, aka USS Constitution, has a familiar date on its history: November 1. I’m quoting its construction period info: “Her keel was laid down on 1 November 1794 at Edmund Hartt's shipyard in Boston, Massachusetts under the supervision of Captain Samuel Nicholson and master shipwright Colonel George Claghorn.”

I didn’t read much about it since I’m already at edge with everything I’ve been researching but, it seems it was a very adored ship. In fact, one of the reasons it’s still in active service it’s because a poet even made it a famous poem about this ship, that you can read here. It’s symbolic and adored, it seems.

About the homonymous 1st Armored Division of the US Army, which badge Gerard used during the return show: being the first armored division of the U.S. Army to see battle in World War II, it also holds a huge historical meaning.

Again, I don’t have much info to share about this and I think some of you will find possible connections on this better than I would.

But wtf does it have to do with all the angels, Nana?

Well, as mentioned before, angels fight battles in the name of God. They’re heaven’s military. Michael, especially, is a warrior angel and leads God’s troupes against the demons.

Something interesting I’ve found relating Gabriel (which statue, let’s not forget, was commissioned by a war widow) to the war concept was the hebrew poem "Elifelet" (אליפלט) written by Nathan Alterman in 1958, often turned into music and played on the israeli radio. it tells of a heroic, self-sacrificing (hm…) israeli soldier being killed in battle. Upon the protagonist's death, the angel Gabriel descends to Earth, in order to comfort the spirit of the fallen hero and take him up to Heaven. It’s very touching, and you can read it here.

I’m not saying any particular work like this poem is relevant to MCR’s possible new concept. (let’s not be political here, but also be honest: Israel wars are a delicate matter to bring up). We’re solely working with symbolism and history. Please keep that in mind.

MCR has touched on war thematics before in many occasions (I will not mention all of them, as I believe that as a fandom, we’re aware of that, and we can help new fans to understand it if needed. This text is already TOO LONG). Maybe it’s time for them to talk about some conflicts again, literal or metaphorical? Let’s wait and see.

Oh, one last thing. There’s actually a whole another navy air test and evaluation squadron, the Antarctic Development Squadron Six (VXE-6 or ANTARCTIC DEVRON SIX, commonly referred to by its nickname, The Puckered Penguins). They’re based on California (lmao) and their motto is… Well, “Courage, Sacrifice, Devotion”. Uriel kinda left behind again, huh. I’m sorry sweetie.

Again, I apologize if this last section (or even the whole thing..haha…) looks far-fetched, but I just… had to take it out of my chest, sorta? Sorry.

That concludes our Archangel Theory. Thank you if you took your time to read through it all.

List of things to maybe expect in the future:

Something on Feb 1 / Feb 2

Two more angel statues, being them related to Uriel and Michael in some sort of way. I’ve tried to find any suitable matches but… there’s just too many, and as we’ve seen it may even not be officially claimed which angel is portrayed. So let’s wait and see.

More pagan symbolism?

Something about War??

Cryptid posts related to UK and paganism, January 17th and January 24th.

## EDIT (01/12): about new mcr cryptid posts...

If you’re following MCR new updates, as for now you’re aware of the United Kingdom Stuff going on... Interesting coincidences (or is it?) about those:

Both posts were made on the same day the lunar cicle changes. This month, the moon shows up a different form every friday, so maybe prepare you heart for January 17th and 24th. Also, I believe they’re using London time for the updates. in fact, the most recent post (the video with theban alphabet) was posted only 30 minutes after midnight in London. So I’m adding that to our list of things to expect in the future.

Also, someone at warner might be in trouble right now. the ig account for Warner Music Artistic Services (@wmas) posted a variation of the video posted by MCR, only a day later, featuring another order for the theban caracters, a slightly different UK flag (it was somehow merged with a picture? it’s difficult to tell), and a new frame that consists of a forest, similar to the one Gerard posted on his own instagram, and the one featured as background for the skeleton holding a witchcraft-related dagger photo from 2 weeks ago. Differently from the previous mcr video, which was silent, this one featured a sound, if my ears are not mistaken, a very dramatic C# note played on piano or organ (church instruments, huh. funny. but it could be worse, at least is not a G note...)

The video was labeled as LFG, that could mean a million of things. the most relevant ones, I believe, could be “Looking For A Group”, a classic D&D/RPG term (If I close my eyes long enough I can hear distant circus music playing in my head, for I have compared the four archangels to a holy RPG party weeks ago...)or “London Forest Gate”, a neighbourhood in London. please tell me if you have any ideas about what else it could mean, haha....

This video was deleted, but you can still find it around on twitter.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ll keep updating this post as more content is released. Keep running!

[janexeu]

     though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, JANE MÁRQUEZ is actually a descendent of HYPNOS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-SIX year old DEMIGOD ELEMENTARY EDUCATION MAJOR from NEW ORLEANS, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite SACRIFICIAL & STUBBORN.

( she’s b-b-b-back on her bs : katya ! tis uhm ,,,, a lil bit of a chonk of an intro but ill try 2 b cute w it. any time u wanna yeet jus peep the gif again & forgive me bc Look At Her ! )

POWERS ( more info here )

hypnokinesis  — p much made her a glorified babysitter w lynch-esque wacko dreams. it got stronger naturally as she got older, but jus w herself n eventually the ppl shes real close w. its also gotten a lot better since comin to eonia 

seeing gods in dreams  — she doesnt hang out w em every fridays at tgifs but like ,,, if she had Pertinent Questions she cud smhw make it happen. found out abt her being a demigod at age 10 when she met hypnos

memory retrieval — shes got great memry of her own but bc she knows it can help w grief n all that, shes been learnin in eonia how to do it 4 others if they mayb wanted it

BIO POINTS 

her single ma died during childbirth so jane's been in the foster care system since 5ever. attempts at reunification nvr worked out but thankfully she got real lucky w her group home and foster families. twas stable enough to not emotionally scar her even further but the instability of it all was fosho a big ol’ lot and has influenced her rigidness in sum aspects of her life

she lived p much as a mortal even tho her powers r a lil freaky. never went to camp but it worked out bc all her abilities r internal and cannot be Perceived by others. she had a talk w hypnos abt what 2 do n he mentioned camps but also gave sum monster avoidance tips ( like rarely use ur powers, maybe learn self defense, yada yada ) n she jus ,,, did that so she cud continue livin real normal w the mortals. logistics of camp stressed her out esp bc shes livin w non-family n stuff yk it was All Too Much, miss her w the added demigod stress tyvm

got married at 23 to her childhood sweetums luis, but he ,,, died abt a yr later fr a car accident. coma for 2 weeks n jane p much slept the entire time in his hospital room, visitin his dreams n talkin to him. twas a life support sitch so they eventually decided to pull da plug whch was real sad but like she's processed it 2 da best of her abilities. her powers helped a lot in the coping too n she visits memories of him in her dreams smtms when it gets real sad then shes ok again bc life goes on n life is pretty uwu

bc of her bg round kids of all kinds, shes always been passionate abt em. always takin babysittin/tutor gigs and went to community college so she cud teach n then worked as an elem teacher. only started considerin goin 2 eonia 4 postgrad when she had a student who showed signs n strugglez of bein a demigod. she eventually got to talk to their godly parent 2 confirm n she was shocked pikachu meme, real concerned for all those youngins who hav no clue what to do ! or how to cope ! bc they cant facetime w the olympians lyk she can ! so cue her discussin eonia w luis a lot then a year after the accident, broke out the pro-con list again. took abt *checks watch* another yr til she finally decided to zoom 2 athens but then whoosh she did !

PERSONALITY

yearning ? idk her — shes can be a bit of a take it as is typa chick. can be a lil literal jsksj not dumb but like ,,, def doesnt read into things enuff to pine n long n year yk. some things might def fly over her head. she says Yes To Serotonin in this house. she dk the the mitskis n the sikens n the carsons ; its all mary oliver up in this joint. we just tryna luv life n be grateful folkz

le freak, say chic ! — control freak, that is. growin up in an unstable envi meant shed cling 2 stability n independence, wrvr she cud get it. so when it comes 2 the way she does things, she can be real a heel digger. also bc she has 2 deal w kids yk so it can b A Lot n shes v stern lyk dat. ofc she wont infantilize the eonians .,,,. or will she ? big sis vibes outta control. she means well tho always always means well. itll also b v hard to get her 2 giv up on sum1 bc life ? she luvs it n knows u can too

changes by david bowie — is decidedly skipped on the playlist. she doesnt like change !!! i mean she knows its inevitable but still not entire unavoidable. ever since she got out of the system, shes had a partner n her own way of doing things n its been workin out so why change it yk ? she says time may change me but jokes on u i can sorta trace time 

rip but im different — this goes out to all em whores in this house. she respectz ur hustle but like ,,,, not her thang. girl doesnt even get drunk when she drinks bc she doesnt rlly drink sksjsk doesnt like the taste of it, big baby ! but like she's Lived, its more like. ok tried it, not for me. thanks tho. also for all the meanies in the house, y’all perplex her. shes empathetic n wont show the judgement but smtms shes lowkey lyk .,., ur how old n u had all this goin 4 u n ur still so rotten ? how u actin like a 7yo w a trantrum ? scratch head, make it make sense

at least u tried — dad jokes, bad puns, tries to be big jokester but isn't funny. she's pretty tho so she gets away with it. idk wht else 2 say ur honor. shes the type thatll embarrass u w affection

well that was Awkward — probably sum1 abt her if  they see her actin a Fool bc shes in a foreign sitch or topic. when shes a fish outta water then she can be so ! easily ! flustered ! which is p much her in eonia. shes not new new but theres way 2 much godly shennanigans for her to wrap her head ‘round n sis has never gone to camp so its ice bucket challenge level shock from time to time still w da magics n lore

til death do us part — yknow when death cab for cutie said i knew that u wer a truth i wud rather lose than 2 hav nvr lain beside at all ? how abt when they wrecked me by rudely sayin love is watching sum1 die ? yes ? no ? nywy thats jane 4 ya. if she loves then shes in and if shes in then she is all in, luke danes stylez

was that a vivid enough picture or did i just word vom the same things agen n agen sjksjs jus know shes cute n sweet if a lil frustrating n annoying bc shes stubbornpants mcgee. may or may not have a slight compulsion to help fix other ppl ..,,.. someone set her str8 n tell her fix u by coldplay isnt it !!!  

OTHER INFO 

5′9″ born 4 october 1994, virgo sun n moon

not a freshie ! idk how long her program is but like ,,, lets ignore that 4 now ok jus kno that she been here a while

yogi & boxing enthusiast back at home. hc her mans got real into the martial arts w her when hypnos told her she gotta learn how 2 defend so that was one of their things : bonding by workouts so jane cud protecc herself if need be

her maiden name’s jane fulton. got her mommas surname but the name jane ? thats some jane doe bs some rando picked out for her which she hated at first but then seeing tarzan made her go hmmm, ok bet !

lgbtq+ alliance president ! identifies as pan

she met her late hubbie when they were abt 7ish, real friends 2 lovers cuteness. jane was there for him throughout his entire coming out & transition ergo her passion for the community esp queer kids bc she was That Cis Ally for her mans. wears her ring as a real lowkey necklace now

shes also real passionate abt sleep. will ask u how did u sleep last night p much every day u see her bc ppl spend like half their lives asleep catherine ofc shes gonna ask

her fave thing abt eonia ?  the whole siblings bit. shes had 2 make do w what she got n build a family from scratch so this ? she luvs it a lot let her give u kithes hypnos babies

shes p well versed in the greek thingies but only thru the knowledge mortals gets + dream info. after her realizin who she is, all things ancient greek jus sorta became her niche interest ykwim ? shes not like Super Learned abt it more like ,,, ok i gotta at least make Sum sense outta all this, gotta learn what i can. imagin how embarrassin it wud b 2 see a god in ur dream n then go : sorry to this man. nope. not jane, not her, nuh-uh 

luv languages : words, acts of service, physical touch !

useless hcs but she loves disney sfm ok. smtms dresses up as princess tiana for bday parties n shit bc shell do nythin 2 put a smile on the kids n babs faces

ya like jazz ? bc jane surely does ! adores motown & 60s music. nina simone owns her. no one drag peggy lee from 101 dalmatians ! not an important hc but i jus wanted to quote my bubble butt winged bee lover barry

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

children ! infants ! babies !

demigods that make her scratch head damn u live like this ? but also wud knife emoji to protect n care for. shes not the oldest on campus but shes been livin independently p much her entire life so she finks shes got a tight grasp on the myth that is Adulting  

srsly tho the Big Sis vibes is off the charts w this one. shell perserve u dumdums

baddie influencies !

convince her 2 get drunk at a party ! bc she never does. convince her to maybe try drugs ! or go hook up ! do smths impulsive idk jus smth new !

gl tho bc shes not rlly ,,, easily influenced But she can b reasoned w ! in general i fink its just gonna be a fun dynamic if y/m knows how to coax sum wildness outta her or w/e bc thotty yummy theyre hotty yolo rzning jus wont do w this gal. will most likely get argumentative like a big ol momma hen but if u win then ur winning big

Sleep Now or forever hold ur peace !

idk sum1 she helps w their messy sleep ? shes def not super public w it, surely knows her other siblings r Better at it but if  y’all are close, she probs enjoys doin it 4 ya. she runs her hair thru fingers a lot when she does it. like a lot a lot unless u tell her to get lost

lover boi, lover gorl, lover enby !

she can be a lil traditional when it comes to how she views rels. she wants all that meetcute courting bs ! no gender roles tho n u best be sure shes not constantly comparin w her late hubbie ,,, but she jus wants smth magical n 2 be wooed again yk ?

so yea ,,, crushers mayhaps ? sum1 who is tryin 2 woo her ? sum1 she had a meetcute w and now janes got lowkey heart eyes for em ? idk lotsa possiblities but pls keep in mind she is not good at the flirtings so hav mercy on her 

eonia tour guide !

or jus friends who like ,,, constnatly fill her in w all the godly stuff n whatnot. years of not goin 2 camps mean u miss out on a lot ! explore ruins w her n get her info her mortal educ didnt make her privy 2 yk 

head real empty atm i will think of sum n let y’all know when i do, but give us all the conekshunz. friends, enemies, the usual bit, lgbtq alliance peeps, lmk whats up whats done whats cookin we want it all

( shes p much a new muse n da result of me tryna bring in an emotionally healthy kid to this sad sad university. janes in a v good well-adjusted place rn n is my therapy muse bc that other bitch m** is a messy handful. but wbk life aint linear so mayhaps shit’ll hit da fan or one of y/m will ruin her lmfao press f pls ! but also color me eyes emoji bc we love to see it )

[scones-and-texting-and-murder]

Sweater Weather

(AO3 link 2676 words, general audiences)

Written for the @holidaymixtape​  and featuring adorable art by @bs-acorns​!

“They’re looking for a barista at the dog park,” Sam had said, a combination of words so nonsensical that Dean asked him if he’d hit his head.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I told you I’ve been taking Phoebe to the park.”

When Sam finally reached the point where he could get a dog, he’d gone right for a Great Dane, like he was making up for all his dogless years with the biggest one he could find. Next to most people, Great Danes seemed like miniature ponies, but Dean couldn’t deny that Phoebe looked perfectly proportional striding along his oversized, long-legged brother. Despite her size, she was the world’s biggest couch potato, sometimes sitting down on the sidewalk to declare herself done in the middle of walks. As it was nearly impossible to convince one hundred and twenty-five pounds of stubborn dog to do anything, Sam began exploring other options. In doing so, he discovered that taking her to a park resulted in her loping around, sniffing and peeing in a nearly infinite loop, getting some much-needed exercise without Sam needing to cajole her for blocks at a time.

Dean pretended like he wasn’t quite sure. “You mean the one where Eileen goes?”

Sam blushed and Dean smiled smugly, happy to see his big brother intuition hadn’t failed him. He’d been “casually mentioning” Eileen and her service dog with telling frequency.

That’s when Sam explained that there was a coffee shop on site at the park.

Before Dean applied for the job, he’d never considered the logic of a coffee shop/dog park combo, but the more he learned, the more sense it made. Dog people, it turned out, loved to socialize with other dog people, and they would stay at the same location for hours on end if their dogs were happy. If they could capitalize on that by selling hot drinks to cold people, then really, it was a win-win. And while Dean might not have been a dog person, he could chat up customers and make drinks like nobody’s business.

That had been a year ago. Now Sam and Eileen were making plans to move in together, and whereas Dean started out barely able to tell a bichon from a beagle, he was currently familiar with at least a half-dozen types of terrier. And while he’ll never admit it to anyone, one time he’d accurately identified a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, leaving him with the same self-congratulatory rush he imagined birders got when they added to their life lists.

Not only had Dean gotten familiar with the dogs, he’d gotten to know a number of the owners as well. Dean didn’t quite buy the theory that dogs and their owners started to resemble each other, but he couldn’t deny the perfect pairing of Garth with his tall, skinny whippet or Mildred, whose old poodle mix shared her grey curls and slow, stiff gait.

Then there was Cas.

He was tall and broad-shouldered with strong runner’s legs. He had wild dark hair that looked like he’d walked through a windstorm no matter the weather, and his eyes were an almost unearthly blue. Dean could see him with a husky maybe, or a chocolate lab that could run alongside him, its tongue hanging out as it easily kept pace.

Whatever Dean expected, it wasn’t a small and sturdy pug. The first time he’d shown up, Dean knelt down to greet the pup, and he’d asked--like he always did--the dog’s name. He made a point of trying to remember them because that was just good customer service.

Dean let the dog sniff his hand before running his palm over her short, smooth coat. Excited by the attention, the dog’s eyes bulged and it snorted through its pushed-in nose. Dean felt his own eyes widen in response and he used the opportunity to glance back up at the handsome owner. “What’s your dog’s name?”

The man took a moment to answer as he was busy gazing fondly at the snorting creature. “Zeus.”

Dean looked back at the dog who couldn’t weigh more than about twelve pounds, and laughed. “That’s hilarious.”

The man looked apologetic. “I didn’t name her.”

“No?” Dean tried not to think about the fact that he probably had an equally gorgeous girlfriend who’d bestowed the name.

“I acquired her from a rather unscrupulous breeder. It seemed wrong to change her name when everything else had been taken from her.” His brow furrowed in such a sorrowful way that suddenly a pug seemed like his perfect companion.

Dean got back to his feet. “Oh, wow. That’s great. That you rescued her, I mean.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sincerity that had Dean biting back a smile.

“Welcome to Pups and Cups.” Dean held out his hand. “I’m Dean.”

“Cas.” 

Dean liked a lot of things about Cas. Like the way he kept close to Zeus in the park. Plenty of owners unclipped their dogs from the leash and settled down on a bench, but Cas moved slowly around the park with her, like he was worried the bigger dogs might get a little too rough. He liked the way Cas seemed oblivious to exactly good-looking he was, either missing out on (or not interested in) the way both men and women tried to strike up conversations with him. He liked that Cas had an earnestness about him that was oddly endearing, an almost shy formality that made each smile Dean got out of him extremely gratifying. It generally involved greeting Zeus, so Dean made a habit of addressing her and pretending to take her order before getting his. Maybe it was the predictability of the interaction, but Cas seemed to genuinely enjoy the joke. He’d give Dean that full-on smile, the real one where his eyes crinkled.

“Ask him out,” Charlie told him after he’d gone through this routine one day.

“I dunno.”

“Dean. You spent the last forty-five minutes with one eye on the door waiting for him to show up.”

“Keeping an eye out for new customers is an important part of the job.”

“You elbowed me out of the way to take his order.”

“I did not,” he insisted as she sadly rubbed her upper arm. “Wait, did I really?”

“Of course you didn’t.” She grinned, validated. “But clearly you didn’t consider it out of the realm of possibility. Oh hey, here he comes again.”

“Shut up,” he hissed at her as Cas made his way back into the coffee shop. “What’s up, Cas? Does Zeus need extra whip?” He ignored the soft groan Charlie made.

“Actually, Dean, I just wanted to let someone know that the poop bag dispenser is empty.”

“I’m on it. Thanks for letting me know.” Cas’s cheeks were pink from the cold December day. So were the tips of his ears. Something about it made his eyes look extra blue. Dean didn’t realize they were still standing and staring until he felt something whap him in the arm.

“Here you go, buddy. Why don’t you go take care of that right now?” Charlie gave him a faux innocent look and Dean looked down to find the package of refills in his hands. “I’ll watch the front.”

Charlie was the best friend Dean had ever had, and she was practically bouncing on her toes when he came back inside. “Well? Did you ask him?”

Dean shook his head. “Charlie, I’m the guy who makes him coffee and replaces the poop bags. I’m not a guy he’s looking to go out with.”

“Dean--” Charlie began, a soft look on her face that was worse than if she’d yelled at him.

“It’s fine.” He was saved from any further discussion when a group of people and dogs came in through the door.

***

As December progressed, Charlie continued encouraging him to ask Cas out and Dean continued to refuse. He was fine for dumb jokes and he knew he made a damn good latte, but Cas had a real job doing...something important. From time to time Dean overheard him take a work call on his cell phone and it was all I’ll get you the files and Let me run the numbers and other fancy shit that reminded Dean that Cas was out of his league.

It was all good. Dean could continue to look forward to the few moments when Cas had those blue eyes focused on him, he could take satisfaction in making him smile and presenting him with a hot drink on a cold day. He didn’t need more.

One afternoon, he was crouched down in front of the counter giving a handsome Shepherd mix named Otto his puppacino. Otto’s overly large dark ears perked up when Zeus bounded over to say hello. It was well past the time Cas usually showed, so Dean had assumed he wasn’t coming, but from the looks of her, today was clearly a special occasion. She was dressed in a red and green Christmas sweater, adorned with a dog wearing sparkly green slippers and a candy-striped elf hat.

“Well, look at you!” Dean said, as she pushed her snout into his waiting hand. He got to his feet, laughing in delight when he realized Cas was wearing a matching sweater. “You guys been to an ugly sweater party or what?”

The familiar smile didn’t cross Cas’s face. If anything he looked more serious, his head tipping to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Uh,” Dean said, praying for the floor to open beneath him. Or for the espresso maker to explode and vaporize him where he stood. Anything.

“Oh,” Cas said, as if it suddenly all made sense, and Dean thought maybe he’d be able to breathe again. He pointed to his sweater. “Maybe you didn’t realize that this is a pug.”

Dean looked more closely. It was indeed a pug. A pug, wearing an elf hat adorned with sparkly pom poms perched on a shiny red and green striped present. If that weren’t gaudy enough, green and red satin bows were scattered across the sweater.

Cas smoothed his hand over his chest in a most distracting way. “It’s even a girl! See?”

“A tutu,” Dean said, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry. “She’s...wearing a tutu.” And she was indeed, made of bright red netting.

“It’s our first Christmas together.” His eyes were shining.

Charlie, who had apparently witnessed this entire debacle, came to his rescue. “Dean, could you please. Get that thing. From the back.”

Gratefully Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” In the back he stood with his forehead against the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator, trying to let it soothe the embarrassment that heated his face.

A few minutes later, Charlie poked her head through the door. “The coast is clear.”

Dean thumped his head once against the fridge before straightening up. Charlie watched him, concern in her eyes as he came back out. “What do I do?”

“I...don’t think he’s upset?” Charlie glanced out the window to where Cas was doing his normal route following Zeus around the park.

“Yeah, but he thought I was making fun of him.”

“That’s because you were.”

“What was I supposed to think?” The embarrassment was making him defensive, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Who would wear a sweater like that sincerely?” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I fucked this up.”

“I have an idea,” Charlie said.

***

The next day she arrived with a large shopping bag. They were still thirty minutes from opening and she pulled him into the back.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

She nodded decisively. “I’m absolutely positive that it won’t make things worse.”

“That’s not exactly...reassuring.”

“Look, Dean. If you don’t want him to think you were making fun of him, then you have to put your money where your mouth is.” She reached into the bag. “Speaking of, you owe me $24.99.”

“He won’t be in until this afternoon. Can’t I put it on then?”

“No way. For this to work, you need to wear it unironically all day.”

Dean pulled off his outer layer and took a deep breath before pulling the sweater over his head. ”Not a word.”

In a flash, Charlie had her phone out to snap a picture. “You’re a hero.” She moved closer to show him. The bright red sweater was dominated by a large Christmas tree made from those sequins that changed color when flipped over. Next to the Christmas tree was a pug wearing a Christmas sweater of its own. In large letters under the tree it said BAH HUM PUG.

Dean took in a long, slow breath through his nose.

“He’s gonna love it,” Charlie said, using two fingers to flip the sequins.

He pushed her hand away. “Consent is a thing. I gotta get to work.”

All morning long Dean dealt with amused looks and a variety of snarky comments.

“You lose a bet?” he muttered as sarcastically as possible with his back turned to the counter after hearing it for the umpteenth time. The more people gave him shit--little joking comments that shouldn’t have meant anything but that built up over time until he was ready to substitute decaf in all their fucking high maintenance orders--the more defensive he got, going from shrugging apologetically and trying to laugh along, to glaring, his chest puffed out like a soldier. Why the fuck shouldn’t he be able to wear whatever he wanted without people making disparaging comments? It was an object lesson in...what did Sam call them? Microaggressions. He was making a mental note to text his brother and let him know he finally understood when Cas and Zeus came in.

Now the shyness that he’d started his shift with washed over him again. What if Cas didn’t notice, or what if he thought Dean was making fun of him. Again. He heard Charlie murmur “Here we go,” as she moved into place to take over the customer ahead of Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. “Did you get a new sweater?”

“Heya, Cas. I did.” Dean knew this was the whole point, but he felt self-conscious and couldn’t seem to keep from rushing to take his order. “You want your usual?”

But Cas was still staring at his chest and a small smile had crossed his face. As Dean watched, he disappeared out of view, popping up a moment later with Zeus in his arms. “Look, baby,” he practically cooed in his rough, deep voice. “It’s a pug just like you.”

Dean stood a little taller, tugging at the front of his sweater like it would help her see better.

“May I?” Cas asked, nodding toward Dean.

“Uh, sure?” Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to, but cradling the dog in one arm, Cas reached out and smoothed a hand over the sequins on his chest. Dean’s mouth went suddenly dry. Cas’s hand was a firm presence, warm even through the sweater. He stroked up and down, evidently delighted. Zeus snorted and pressed her nose under Cas’s chin.

It was now or never.

“Would you like to go out some time?” It came out in a rush, Dean almost breathless with nerves and Cas’s palm on his chest.

Cas went still but he didn’t drop his hand. His blue eyes widened in surprise. “I would love to.”

“Cool,” Dean said. “Cool. Ok. We’ll do that.” They stood and smiled at each other until the customer behind Cas cleared his throat. “Let me get your coffee.” This time Dean carefully wrote his number on the cup.

***

A few months later, Cas and Zeus showed up in matching red sweaters. Each one had a shiny satin pink heart with an applique of a pug in the center. In big letters were the words Pugs and Kisses. “It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” he explained to Charlie, after giving Dean a quick kiss.

Dean was already wearing his.