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temperqnce · 3 months ago

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Shakarian Heist-Fic

This is a small piece of a ridiculously long ME2 fic I've been keeping close to my chest and working on-and-off on for like. Ten years. This comes right after Garrus said something stupid on Purgatory (the for-profit ransom jail, not the club) that was insensitive considering her slavery-related PTSD (she has the colony background.) They worked it out. Next thing he knows, he's on a heist-date on Bekenstein, orchestrated by Kasumi. Shep's determined to mess with him a little while they're out. This is pre-relationship.

Please be nice, I have NEVER posted work publicly before!!!

Port Observation Deck

The door to the observation deck slid open and Garrus stepped inside. In front of him, the vastness of space glimmered with sparkling stars. To his right was a small, self-service bar and lounge - a civilian ship luxury, stocked with liquors of all colors in mostly regulation space-travel friendly cylinders. They were mostly levo drinks, friendly for most non-turian species, but a few were carefully separated and labeled dextro. He had come here once or twice before, to break the ice with some of the crew. Since Kasumi had moved in, she had taken over the left half of the room with tasteful displays of (mostly stolen) art and other personal effects, but there was still plenty of space to lounge and watch the stars go by.

On the black corner couch in the middle of the room, Kasumi and the commander were chatting and having a few drinks. Shepard was on the half of the couch that faced the door. She was dressed down in some comfortable-looking civvies, and the two women seemed relaxed. Shepard had been intently listening to whatever Kasumi had been saying before Garrus entered the room. The two looked up at him and Shepard smiled brightly and stood.

“Garrus! Thank you for coming by. We have a favor to ask of you. Come sit. I’ll get you a drink.”

“Anything for you, Commander,” he said, and obeyed, sitting next to Kasumi on the side of the couch facing the bar.

Shepard came back shortly with an unfamiliar midnight-dark concoction that bubbled on the sides of a narrow-topped, spouted glass. “Jane. What is this?”

“Try it. I’ve been experimenting,” She said, looking a little devious as she sat back down.

“...Are you trying to kill me, Shepard? Is this revenge?”

“Of course not! Look, it’s just xin and Drossix, but with a sort of… Quarian twist. Trust me, okay?”

“Trust you? You haven’t even tried it. You couldn’t. This could actually kill you.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Kasumi cut in. “She’d get indigestion, at worst. You know when they say ‘Drossix Blue makes human stomachs explode’ they just mean drunk assholes shitting themselves, right?”

“...Right. Well, here goes nothing,” he said, and tossed back the drink in one gulp. Shepard’s eyes lit up, watching his face. The base of the cocktail was richly bitter and strong, but the bubbles popped tart and almost sweet on his tongue. The carbonation was dense, but the beverage went down smooth. He felt a light pleasant buzz hit the back of his brain.

“Wow,” he said, setting the glass on the table. “That’s nice. When did you develop an interest in dextro bartending?”

“Two of my closest friends are dextro, Garrus, it’s called cultural competence.”

“Only one of those friends is a dextro that drinks.”

“Well… consider it me plying you for that favor.”

“Right. You’ve liquored me up, now what do you two want with me?”

Kasumi and Shepard shared a conspiratorial look, and Kasumi nodded. The commander grinned at Garrus and asked,

“Do you wanna be my date on a heist?”

Bekenstein

The self-driving cab descended, hovering ever closer to a huge compound taking up the edge of a dramatic cliff. The mansion at the center was made of tall glass walls and sweeping white curves. Spreading out around it were several warehouse facilities patterned almost like waves breaking away from the centerpiece. It was an incredible sight to behold as the sun crept towards the horizon and tinted the sky pink. The sunlight played gently on the mist that gathered over a vast and rocky canyon. Shepard was taking it in when Garrus grunted next to her.

“Nice digs.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Paid for in blood,” Kasumi darkly added in the seat behind them. “The rest of the compound is an arms manufacturing facility.”

Kasumi had asked Shepard to help her infiltrate a party of high-class criminals. Hoarders of culture and art, elite mercenary bosses, corrupt politicians, arms dealers, the works. Their mission was to break into the vault belonging to the host and retrieve a greybox belonging to a fellow thief. From what Shepard could tell, Keiji had been Kasumi’s partner in crime as well as in life. The greybox contained his memories, and as if that weren’t precious enough, encrypted within them was some damning intelligence that could cause serious upheaval in the Alliance. Keiji had been killed and his memories stolen by the criminal and art mogul Donovan Hock. Shepard was going undercover as Alison Gunn, a mercenary alter ego designed and made almost real by Kasumi’s expert work online.

“I still don’t know why you aren’t doing this with Jacob,” Garrus complained. “The two of you would probably make a more… believable couple.”

Kasumi snorted. “HAH. Doubt it. At best they would think he was her employee. At worst his domineering mother-in-law. Come on bud, you were a detective. Crime in Citadel Space is your thing.”

The cab touched down in an empty roundabout in front of the main hall of the mansion. They were a tad late. The cab opened up, and Kasumi lithely hopped out.

“Hey, I’m not old enough to be anybody’s mother-in-law!” Shepard called after her, adjusting the one bracelet she owned, a simple silver chain. She started to stand. “Trust me Garrus, this is better. Kasumi’s right, you have experience dealing with these types.” She climbed out of the cab the best she could in the dress Kasumi picked out for her. It was a black halter-top dress that showed off her muscular shoulders and back. It was entirely too clingy for ease of movement, accentuating the difference between her toned waist and her bulky thighs. “It also helps that you’re not borderline afraid of me.”

Garrus laughed, climbing out after her. “Oh, but I am.”

“Are you?” She asked, amused. She turned to offer him a hand, and he took it, but with his long legs he was already out of the car. Instead he linked their elbows and gave her a wink.

“Oh yes. You’re terrifying. Squishy, but terrifying.”

“Squishy?”

“Let’s move, lovebirds!” Kasumi called. The art thief was standing next to a second car fiddling with her omni-tool. As she worked, the car opened and a large gold statue of the turian spectre and infamous legend Saren Arterius slid out on a hoverplate. “We still have to go over the plan one last time.”

They huddled together around the gaudy statue. “This really is tasteless. I can’t believe he’s taking it,” Garrus commented.

“After a certain point, wealth actually makes your taste infinitely worse,” Kasumi said matter-of-factly. “The richest of the rich have houses full of garbage. You’ll see once we get inside.” She grimaced. “Can’t put a price on your soul.”

“So, Garrus and I go in as merc leader Alison Gunn and…” Shepard trailed off, at a loss. “What’s Garrus’ cover? He’s famous in his own right these days. And as cool as it would be to bring Archangel, he’s supposed to be dead.”

“Oh, I’ve got a name for the big guy,” said Kasumi. “You’ll be attending as Altus Avaros. No cool background, you’re just a wife guy. Pure arm candy.”

“I can do that,” said Garrus, addressing Kasumi but staring at Jane, who had doubled over in silent giggles, covering her mouth with her free hand. Kasumi grinned knowingly at Garrus’ confused stare.

“Let’s just hope there aren’t a lot of guests like our girl that know both Palaven Standard and Latin.”

“Do I wanna know?” Garrus asked while Shepard pulled herself together. Big bird. BIG BIRD. She wanted to tell him but she knew it would ruin it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kasumi smiled innocently. “You two are going to go in. Schmooze a little, but not too much. We don’t want people asking you too many questions or your aliases will fall apart. Then we locate the vault, find its weaknesses, and I’ll guide you through exploiting them. I’ll be with you, and scouting around the house unseen. The statue will smuggle our weapons and armor for when we get into the vault. You can keep your sidearms. They’ll probably expect you to.”

After briefing, Kasumi vanished, leaving the pair to start up a set of stone stairs, hovering Saren statue in tow.

“I still can’t believe you called me squishy,” Shepard jabbed, elbowing her date as they walked.

“Speaking of squishy, where are you hiding your pistol in a dress that tight?”

She snorted. “I could show you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

The interior of the mansion had an incredible view of the sunset given that the entire western wall was made of glass and crystal. The center of the main room had a water feature, a large but gentle fountain with benches nearby for sitting. To either side, roped off sets of spiral stairs, and beyond those, alcoves of priceless paintings and art. The host hadn’t shown himself yet and Kasumi was scoping out the vault entrance, so Garrus and Shepard browsed the exhibits.

The two made thoughtful noises here and there as they walked slowly through the displays. Eventually, Shepard sighed.

“Is it just me,” she whispered, “or is this…?”

“The most bored you’ve ever been in your life?” Garrus leaned over to rumble in her ear.

“Oh thank God. It’s not that I don’t like art, it’s just-”

“Hey, you don’t have to pretend to be cultured around me.”

“Really though! Kas was right, this stuff is uniquely bad!”

“You know, I bet it’s better with booze. Everything’s better with booze.”

“Garrus, we shouldn’t. We’re on a-”

“My name is Altus, thank you, and I’m already walking away. Don’t go anywhere,” he said, and he was around the corner and out of sight.

Shepard grumbled and sat down on a bench by a small fireplace. The fire was set into the wall opposite the paintings they were looking at, which also hosted shelves upon shelves of books and knick knacks. She was about to pick up a book when a pale human male with a jar-shaped head and the worst facial hair she’d ever seen sat down next to her.

“Alison Gunn, I presume?” he said in a bizarre accent she couldn’t place, holding out his hand. Jane took it and smiled politely.

“Yes, good to meet you, Mr…?”

“Hock. I am your host tonight,” He said smoothly. Instead of shaking her hand, Donovan Hock lifted her hand delicately and pressed it to his lips. Shepard’s stomach soured. “Are you enjoying the party thus far?”

“I am, Mr. Hock. You have a breathtaking home,” Shepard did her best to maintain a level countenance as she took her hand back. If she could be cool under gunfire, this should be easy. Right?

“Please, call me Donovan, Ms. Gunn. And thank you for the compliment. I paid the architect three times his usual fee for his undivided attention and for dealing with participation on my part. I wanted it to reflect my tastes well,” He smiled slyly at Shepard. She felt her face start to traitorously wrinkle with disgust, and schooled it into something more like vague interest. “Come with me across the gallery for a moment, will you?” Hock continued. “I would like to show you something.”

“This is good,” Kasumi chimed in Shepard’s earpiece. “I need a voice sample from him, it’s one of the keys to the vault. Keep him talking.”

“Alright,” Jane said in reply to both, and she stood to follow Hock.

Hock took her out of the northern gallery alcove and around to one of its outer walls facing the back windows. On a pedestal against the wall, was that… an old Earth optical disc? It was huge. Wider than Hock’s own massive head.

“I admire your work, Ms. Gunn,” The man began, stepping uncomfortably close. “You keep the barbarians at bay. Those backward-thinkers that try - and always fail - to stop people like me from doing what is necessary to keep the world turning. You understand the value of my work. I appreciate that.” He gestured to the disc. “You see this? A relic of a bygone age. If it weren’t for people like us, making the right moves, making the difficult choices, doing the galaxy’s dirty work… humanity would be stuck in the dark ages. Swinging clubs and writhing in the mud.” He stepped aside and let the colorful, sparkling gradient of sunset light behind them shine on the reflective surface of the disc.

“That was… an enlightening speech, Mr. Hock,” Shepard managed to say, turning back to the host. “And of course I agree. I appreciate that we, uh, share that understanding.” She forced herself to smile.

“There is much I have to share with beautiful women, Ms. Gunn,” Hock said smoothly, sliding back into her personal space. Shepard felt her biotics flicker, her hand twitching and the back of her neck getting warm. She clenched her fist and-

“Heyyyy, honey, I got that drink you wanted!” Garrus said cheerfully, sliding one arm around Shepard’s waist and putting a champagne flute in her hand with the other. The maneuver effectively created a barrier on all sides of her body for a moment, and forced Hock to back up. Jane felt her building rage and tension soften. Trust Garrus to be a smooth operator, she thought, relieved.

“Sorry, Shep,” Kasumi said in her ear. “I had to hold him back for just a second while I got the recording. But we’re good, so you guys can feel free to get Hock out of your hair.”

The art mogul scowled, then schooled his expression and tilted his head up slightly as if to look down at the pair. If that were possible, given that Garrus was at least a whole head taller than him.

“Mr. Hock, I appreciate you inviting my wife and I into your home tonight,” Garrus said warmly, pulling Shepard a little tighter into his side. “It’s a gorgeous place. We were just talking about how captivating the view is. You wouldn’t mind if I stole her away for a moment on the balcony…?”

“Of course, please. I have other guests to attend,” Hock said coolly. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Gunn.”

Shepard smiled as sweetly as she could at him, not trusting herself to speak, and let Garrus lead her down the hall and out the glass door to the wide balcony overlooking the canyon. An air highway crossing the canyon led directly into the sweeping skyline of Milgram, Bekenstein’s capital city. The buildings there were some of the tallest she’d ever seen outside of the Citadel.

Garrus let go of her waist once they reached the edge. They stood next to each other, not touching anymore but still close, resting their glasses and their arms on the thick balcony railing. They were quiet, taking in the view. Then,

“Sorry. For grabbing your waist.”

Jane was surprised. “No need. It’s fine.”

“No, I mean. It’s more normal for humans than it is for turians,” Garrus explained, an edge of nervousness to his voice. “We don’t really do… public displays of affection, even with partners or family. I had to sort of code-switch for a minute, and it’s fine surrounded by mostly humans. But… I would have been slapped, doing that back home. So. I feel like I need to apologize out of respect for you, even though… it doesn’t mean much to you. As a human.”

“Hmm,” Shepard said, thoughtful. It was endearing of Garrus to think so much about their cultural differences. He seemed to know a lot more about what was normal for her than she did for him. She would have to catch up. “I’m not sure what I should say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“I appreciate you. For stepping in. It was good timing.”

Garrus chuckled softly. “Well… again, normally I wouldn’t do something like that. I know you’re capable of handling yourself. But normally you’d be able to hand a guy his ass with very few consequences.”

“Yeah,” Shepard sighed. “I really wanted to do it.”

“Kick his ass?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” he admitted ruefully. “Did you know I was top of my class for hand-to-hand combat in the academy? I bet he doesn’t know that.”

“Maybe he’ll get to find out later,” Shepard mused. “The night isn’t over yet.”

“You’re right,” Garrus sighed. He tapped his glass with a talon. “You should drink this. It’s good.”

“Your drink?”

“No. Our drink. We’re drinking the same thing.” Shepard had failed to notice that the pale, icy-green colored liquid was in both of their glasses.

“How is that-”

“It’s a newer kind of dual-chirality wine,” He explained. “Asari-made. Levo and dextro friendly, without the weird taste. I’ve been wanting to try it for a while, but it’s expensive, and, well, I didn’t want to do it alone. There was never a right moment.”

“But now, on this rich asshole’s dime…”

“Exactly.”

Shepard touched her glass to his, a pleasant chime ringing over the vast canyon in front of them, then she took a slow sip, savoring the moment. It hit her tongue tart but settled dry, somehow both intense and impossibly light, like someone had taken an Earthen white wine and hit it with a particle accelerator. Whatever undoubtedly alien ingredients they used reminded her more of lychee and pear than of grapes.

“Wow,” she said. “This is nice. I like it a lot.”

“I’m glad. I’ll have to find some on the Citadel the next time we go.”

“Thank you, Garrus. For this, and for earlier.”

“You know I’ve always got your back.”

Static buzzed in Shepard’s ear.

“You guys are gross. Married for all of five minutes and already making me puke,” Kasumi teased in their ears. “Get back inside, I got everything we need to get in the vault. It’s time to get suited up.”

Jane felt a blush coming on. She left her glass on the balcony and grabbed Garrus’ hand, doing her best to twine their mismatched fingers together and pull him back indoors. They descended the stairs to the long hallway that led to the vault.

“Hold on,” Garrus started, and they froze on the last step. “Guards coming down the other side.” Sure enough, Shepard saw the shadows of two armored men lingering at the top of the stairs at the other end of the hallway. A wicked idea fixed in her mind and she flashed a wide grin at her partner.

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said, and with her left arm she tugged him down the last step while with her right she shoved him up against the wall. She got a rush of satisfaction at witnessing his shock and nervousness, his eyes wide and his hands up in disarmed surrender. “I know you just said turians don’t like PDA, but…”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he replied quickly with an urgent glance down the hall.

How does one kiss a turian? Shepard mused, pressing up against him and elbowing his arms down. The guy doesn’t have lips. She supposed she’d have to improvise. Garrus settled his hands on her hips tentatively and she wrapped hers around the back of his neck, gently craning his neck so she could reach him. A mandible is like a jaw, right? A sensitive, more expressive part of a jaw? She placed soft kisses down the uninjured side, smiling at the panicked heartbeat she felt reverberating in his chest. What happened to Mr. Suave? She wondered, before finally pressing the first of a series of exploratory kisses on his mouthplates. Kissing turians won’t be necessary, she heard her own voice in the back of her mind say to Ashley in the Cargo Bay all those years ago. She was okay with being wrong. Not because she was into it, or anything, of course. Just to get under the usually cool and confident sniper’s skin. And by his reaction… shallow breathing, tightly fluttering mandibles, a high timbre in his chest that she could only describe as acute distress… she had succeeded. That was pure satisfaction.

She was lost in figuring out how to describe what his very foreign mouth tasted like when she heard a cough from behind her. Garrus had apparently forgotten what they were doing all of this for, because he jumped a little and let go of her quickly, like a teen having been caught under the bleachers. That was fitting enough, though, and Jane stepped back, making a show of fixing herself up though he hadn’t done anything other than attempt to kiss her back and clamp onto her hips for dear life.

The two Eclipse guards looked some combination of embarrassed and dumbstruck. Turian-human couples weren’t very common, for good reason. “Sorry for the uh, interruption, ma’am,” one of them said, flushing and not meeting her eyes. “Just - well. This hallway isn’t off-limits, per-se, but it’s not private, either. You might wanna�� I mean. Mr. Hock’s estate is extensive, I’m sure staff could find you and your, uh, friend a room if you wanted.”

Shepard gave the men her most devastating smile. “Thanks, boys. We’ll finish up here and probably head home.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the guard said, and quickly moved along, elbowing his partner to follow him.

When they were out of sight, Shepard turned back to Garrus, whose blue-flushed neck was slowly returning to normal along with his steady breathing. He glowered at her.

“You enjoyed that a little too much, Commander.”

“Aww, was it really that bad?” Shepard pouted.

The blush returned. “No! No, I, uh, well, it was, uh. Just. New,” he spluttered. “Different.”

“Calm down, big guy, I’m only teasing,” she laughed, and grabbed him by the elbow to pull him down to the vault door.

She was going to have to thank Kasumi later. This was the most fun she’d had on a mission in a while.

--------

Kasumi flipped backwards off Hock’s gunship and back down onto some shipping containers in the coolest feat of acrobatics Jane had ever seen.

“I do love a professional,” Garrus buzzed in her ear. She could hear the smile in his voice through the radio. Having disabled the ship’s shields, the only thing left to do was blow it out of the sky.

Shepard pulled out her grenade launcher and crouched to load it. High on the landing pad but behind some crates, Kasumi made quick and precise shots with her pistol at the windows of the gunship, clearly going for Hock’s head. Garrus popped up from his spot on the opposite side of the platform from Shepard, shot a few strategically-aimed high-caliber rounds, then disappeared to reload. Shepard could hear them both muttering to themselves over the radio.

“Take that, you bastard. I hope one of these lobotomizes you but keeps you alive so I can shoot you a few more times you sick fuck-”

“-turian design, weak points in the armor… here, here, and… here-”

Shepard looked up and hefted the grenade launcher to her shoulder. She waited for Hock to pause between his hail of bullets and the next round of pummeling rockets. She charged her shields, hoping to draw Hock’s attention. She popped up and rapid-fired, three grenades at once. She figured one or two of them might interrupt the barrage while the other snuck past. Garrus also popped up. Hock fired his missiles. But not at Shepard.

“Shit-” Jane heard, and then Garrus’ radio cut out.

-----

Garrus hit the ground. Hard. Something buzzed on the screen of his visor and his radio cut. Diagnostics told him he’d cracked a tiny part of the receiver - no big deal, he could weld that back together with his omni-tool.

His combat HUD told him all three grenades Shepard sent off had hit the gunship square on. Kasumi cheered, loud enough that he’d picked it up without the aid of his radio. Safe now from rocket fire (thank the spirits) he sat up to take his visor off and quickly zap it back into shape. He thought he heard the commander yelling from pretty far away. Then suddenly she was right in his face.

She’d lept over his cover and landed haphazardly beside him, then grabbed his shoulders with force that would have completely fucked his welding if he hadn’t had the presence of mind to stop. Her eyes were wild and her hands were shaking. Concerned, Garrus wrapped his hands around her elbows in what he hoped was a comforting grip.

“Jane? What’s wrong?” He asked, thoroughly confused.

“Rocket,” she said between heavy breaths from the dead sprint she must have been in. “You didn’t pop back up.”

Oh.

“I’m fine,” he said, his subvocals coming out low and warm, the emotion stronger than he expected. He squeezed at the joint of her arms. “Just broke the receiver in my visor. I was fixing it.”

She shoved him a little, clearly miffed, and knocked a fist against his armor. “You have at least two backup radios. What did I get you this stupid suit for? You and that damned visor.” She shook her head, but smiled as he pulled it out to finish the quick weld.

“Guys! The Kodiak is almost here,” Kasumi called from above, leaning over the railing of the landing pad. “We probably want to get out as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Shepard said while Garrus gave an affirmative hand signal, and the thief disappeared.

Garrus replaced his patched-up visor and re-connected to their combat frequency, then caught Jane’s arm before she started vaulting over the concrete barrier between them and the stairs. The playing-pretend part of the evening might have been long-since over, but he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t see the bit all the way through.

“Before we go,” he said quickly to her surprised face, “I just… wanted to say thanks. This was fun.”

The commander’s expression was caught between amusement and confusion, a small, open smile showing while her brows furrowed. She looked away from him, blinked a few times, then said, “Uh, yeah, it was, wasn’t it? I’m… glad.” She seemed to gather herself, then looked at him again, smiling in a more relaxed way this time. “I’d say we should do it again sometime, but…”

“What, get invited to a high-class criminal soiree, drink their booze, steal their shit, and blow it up? I’m game if you are.”

“It’s a date,” she said, winking at him, then she slung herself over the concrete divider and hurried up the landing pad stairs.

His heart was hammering, all of the sudden.

It was just a joke. Wasn’t it?

Shit.

--------

Garrus found himself back where all of this had started, staring at the Normandy’s meager selection of dextro liquor and mixers in the starboard lounge. He was alone, thank the spirits. Shepard and Kasumi were debriefing in the commander’s cabin, deciding the fate of the greybox.

He thought about trying to mix up what Jane had made for him before the mission, but he didn’t really have the presence of mind to recreate it properly. He poured himself a glass of straight xin and sat on the couch with a huff.

Over and over again, his mind was replaying that moment on the stairs, right before they broke into the vault. He’d frozen up completely, as nervous as a fledgling boy. He was damned near thirty years old, he should have been able to do something. Anything at all. Shit, he’d wanted to. Run a hand through her hair. Pull one of her legs over his hip. Try to find where she’d hidden that gun… Just to be convincing. To the mercs who were watching. The patrolling mercs that he had forgotten about as soon as she started kissing him.

The door behind him slid open and Kasumi walked in, silent as the grave. She placed her greybox on her desk gently and sat on the couch on her side of the room, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said as he started to get up. Her voice was calm. He rose to his feet anyway.

“I was going to ask if you wanted a drink,” he said, gesturing to his cup. She looked up at him and smiled faintly.

“Pour me half a glass of that blue bottle up top, and fill the rest with the red juice in the fridge. I’m feeling like a party girl,” she said with a hiccuping laugh. Garrus couldn’t see her eyes under her hood, but he’d wager high creds that she was crying.

He did as she asked and brought it to her, sitting down on the other side of the same couch.

“Are you… alright?” he asked slowly. She took a few small sips from her glass before answering.

“Yes. And no,” she said. “I’m keeping the greybox. It’s all I have left of Keiji. But… I don’t think the commander approves. It was a hard conversation.”

Garrus nodded, staying quiet. He watched her wipe tears out from under her eyes.

“She said it was my decision. But that Keiji wouldn’t have wanted me to have a target on my back for the rest of my life. That he’d have wanted me to live in reality and not in the past. She was right.”

“She has a way of being right about things,” Garrus grumbled. “It’s pretty annoying.”

Kasumi laughed again, sniffled a little. “I got pissed at her anyway. I yelled. What does she know about what Keiji would have wanted? She doesn’t know him like I do. Nobody does,” she shook her head. “But she didn’t even get mad. She just gave me a hug and let me cry. She said she wouldn’t judge my choices. But I don’t know, Gare. It just… feels so wrong, to disappoint her. She’s so…” she trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I know,” Garrus said, setting his glass on the table. He leaned towards her a little, trying to see if he could catch the shine of her eyes. “Look, I’m not the best guy for this kind of advice. You know where loss sent me. But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. That’s something I’m… learning lately,” he admitted gruffly. “Give yourself some time. Keep it for now. But with the intention of saying goodbye,” he watched her nod slowly, clutching her glass with two hands and rubbing her knuckles for comfort. “Work your way towards being able to let it go, and then… I dunno. Blow it up over an ocean, or something. Jettison it into a star. Make it special.”

Kasumi smiled at him warmly. “Thanks Garrus. That sounds… nice. I’ll think about it.” She swung her legs to the floor and set her glass on the low table in front of her.

“No thanks necessary. A turian lives to serve.”

She snorted and leaned back, crossing her arms. “Right, sure. If we’re keeping score, you owed me, anyway.”

“How so?” Garrus asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Who do you think suggested you come with us?” She grinned devilishly. “After you shoved your foot in your mouth on Purgatory I thought maybe you could use a chance to get back in the lady’s good graces.”

Garrus’ jaw dropped. “Uh,” he scrambled, “Kas, we’re not, I’m not, uh,” Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Could you hear the noises the giant bug orchestra in your chest was making when Hock was all over her? And when she was all over you?”

“You could hear that?” He asked, panicked. Most humans could tell something was playing underneath a turian’s primary vocals, but rarely could discern the difference between one tone and another. Their hearing was simply not sharp enough, their brains untrained to identify the nuances. It was something turians could often use to their advantage in interspecies engagement: a facade of emotional detachment was useful in negotiations of all kinds.

“I’m the best thief in the galaxy, Vakarian. I’ve got a few upgrades. Understanding how people feel is important in any kind of undercover work… as you know, detective.” There was an impish sparkle to her countenance that Garrus resented. There went the one advantage to being the only turian on this ship.

“The commander has a… a partner,” Garrus insisted, echoing the language Shepard used in their conversation on the Citadel. “He’s my friend, too. I’m not interested in getting mixed up in that. You can read whatever you want into my interactions with her, but we’re just friends. She’s important to me. I’m loyal to her. She’s… frustrating, sometimes. That’s all.” He hoped that was convincing enough. He wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince the most.

“Sure, Gare,” Kasumi said slyly. “Whatever you say. I’ll keep your little secret. But I don’t think it needs to be kept.”

Garrus was about to ask what she meant when the door to the room slid open and Shepard stumbled in out of breath. He stood quickly, almost dropping his drink.

“Jane. What’s happening?”

“Another colony is being hit. Now. I just set a course,” she gasped for breath, then locked gazes with him, her eyes filled with fear. “Garrus. It’s Kaidan.”

~~~~~~~~~ That's the end folks. Someday maybe in another ten years I'll post more lmao

#shakarian #garrus vakarian #garrus x femshep #shepard x garrus #garrus romance #mass effect 2 #fanfiction #jane shepard #femshep #mass effect #kasumi goto #I have adhd so I know that this is dialogue heavy and description-starved. I'd be better off writing screenplays but here i am

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sagethegremlin · 2 months ago

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please I hope the livestream tonight is a fans fantastic features on the purgatory mansion crew please animationepic I will give you my life and soul please

#inanimate insanity #SO EXCITED for this livestream I can’t wait

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gollyjeeewillikers · 2 years ago

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Purgatory Mansion crew as humans(pls end me)

#inanimate insanity #inanimate insanity human #inanimate insanity bow #inanimate insanity marshmallow #inanimate insanity apple #inanimate insanity dough #ii bow #ii ghost bow #ii marshmallow #ii apple #ii dough #ii ghost dough #I wanna die #marshapple #bow x marshmallow x apple #sapphic #poly relationship

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anmylica · 2 years ago

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Like Slow Spinning Redemption Chapter Four

Tagging the Usual Crew: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @sotangledupinit

Want to be added? Send me an ask!

Read on AO3

Read on FFN

Catch Up Here: 01 02 03

Liam moved through several rooms, shuffling papers and opening doors. He had walked into a couple of rooms where one of the others was also searching, and so he couldn’t move outside to destroy the pages yet. The only person he hadn’t met was Emma, but he knew that she had stalked off into a completely different area of the manse so as to avoid everyone else. He smiled slightly at Henry, which Henry returned as he moved into a new location. Liam watched Henry leave, and then he listened for the sounds of any of the others.

Hearing nothing, Liam decided that this was the best time to finish what he had started. He moved to the window facing the back yard, and noted how close he was to a door that led to the yard. Looking around him once more to check that he was alone, Liam slunk off towards the exit that led outside. He moved as quickly as he could without making much noise. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. He opened the door as quietly as he could and closed it without pulling the latch; he didn’t need the door to make any extra noise. He didn’t know how much time he had, so he crossed over to the well quickly, stopping at the edge and pulling the pages out of his pocket.

Hades hadn’t left any specific instructions on how exactly to destroy them, but he did say that all the waterways led back to him. Liam decided that the best way was to follow Hades’ orders was to throw them into the nearest waterways. Remembering the well he had spied as he came into the mansion, he supposed that he could throw them in there and that would be enough. Moving fast, he managed to avoid everyone else searching and got to the well without anyone seeing him. He quickly took the pages out of his jacket and let them fall into the well. He watched them fall into the water and sink to the bottom almost immediately upon touching the water. It was done. He was free, finally free at last, of his secret’s hold on him. This was it, the whole reason he was still in purgatory. He could finally move on from this place. The regret at betraying his brother was outweighed by his singular relief at getting away with keeping his treachery a secret. He sighed as a weight lifted off his shoulders.

—————

After the altercation with Liam earlier in the day and her quasi-argument with Killian about whether Liam was hiding something, the last thing Emma felt like doing was searching for the missing pages. She actually felt more like hitting something (or someone, or possibly even multiple someones), an emotion which was apparent in the way she threw open doors and slammed them shut, roughly yanked open drawers and caused their contents to rattle, only to throw them shut in the same aggravated movement. Without Killian around her to see, she let her emotions reign as she stomped around, on her face a screwed up scowl, and she didn’t linger in any place for long.

She knew that Liam was wrong in his assessment of his brother’s perceived lack of heroism, just as he was wrong in his villainized judgment of her. She just didn’t know how to get Liam to see that there was more to Killian than that supposed “darkness” and view his younger brother for the hero that Emma knew him to be (and she also didn’t know how to get Killian to see that same fact for himself, only she was beginning to suspect that somehow Liam, himself, had to be the key to that’s endeavor). She couldn’t care less whether Liam Jones’ opinion ever changed of her; she just wanted to change his opinion of Killian (and of Killian concerning himself).

She wandered into another sitting room and paced through the length of it, scanning absentmindedly for any sign of the torn pages of Henry’s storybook, Underworld Edition, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and turned her head back to where she had caught it and realized she was seeing through a window into a yard just beside the house. She stepped closer to the window, her brow furrowed in confusion and suspicion as she realized she was looking at Liam. His back was to her; she couldn’t see what it was he was doing, but why would he be out in the yard when he had sworn he wouldn’t stop looking until they were successful in locating the lost pages?”

Making a split-second decision, she hastily left the room and made a beeline for the nearest exit that would get her to that yard and into yet another confrontation with Killian’s older brother. Her inner lie detector had been going off ever since their first conversation, and she was going to find out why it was alerting her to something being off with Liam. She owed it to Killian to investigate his brother’s shady actions, even if he wouldn’t appreciate her for it.

————-

Liam rubbed his hands together, watching as the pages floated down into the well and disappeared into the water, wishing that the ink hadn’t stained his hands so badly, and he heaved another sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been since seeing his brother once more. But all would be well. He would not have to answer Killian about what he had done, and Killian would never find out about his mistakes. He would remain a hero in his little brother’s eyes. They could move on from this place together. He would finally have his brother back.

He was just about to turn to find a place to wash his hands of the ink that had stained them when he heard Emma’s voice.

“I thought you were inside looking for the missing pages,” she called. Liam whirled around to face her, balling his hands into fists so as to hide the stains and stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he did so in order to further conceal his treachery.

“Emma,” Liam replied, a bit breathlessly. “I thought a bit of fresh air and a change of scenery would get the inspiration flowing.”

Emma didn’t respond. She just smiled slightly, preparing to lay her trap though Liam didn’t know it. “Find anything?”

Liam shook his head minutely. “I’m afraid a ship’s captain can only be cooped up for so long. I had to come out and get some air. What brings you out here?”

Emma wondered if Liam realized how hollow his words sounded to her ears, how tinny they were with his lies, but, of course, he didn’t know about her super power. She walked closer to Liam so that he could get a good look about what she was going to show him. She hoped that the way to breach Liam’s lies was to use Killian to do it.

“I wanted to show you this,” Emma responded, pulling the chain out from under her shirt that had the ring Killian had given her in Camelot. She held the ring out as far as it would go to Liam to allow him to see what it was she beheld.

Liam leaned in a bit to look closer. “Oh. It’s the ring I gave Killian. I noticed he wasn’t wearing it.”

Emma smiled softly and played with the ring in her fingers. “Because he gave it to me,” she confirmed. “And you know what he told me when he did?” She paused and waited for Liam to shake his head before continuing. “That it belonged to a much better man than him. You’re his hero. He doesn’t think you can do any wrong…”

Liam squirmed uncomfortably, moving to scratch behind his ear in the same mannerism Killian had when he was uncomfortable. “Yes, well…” Liam tried to respond before falling silent, not knowing how to respond.

“Which is why,” Emma continued with no great concern about Liam’s feelings, “I can’t figure out why you would lie to him.” Emma stopped speaking and stared at Liam, a serious expression on her face.

Liam stared back, struck speechless by how blatantly she had called him out. Emma could tell he didn’t know what to say. He stared at her a moment before looking at the ground out of shame, and in that action Emma knew she had him. She just didn’t know what the lie was.

Before Liam could stammer out a reply, Killian joined them outside. “Liam? Emma? What’s going on?” he called out as he joined the two by the well. Killian looked between his brother and his lover, trying to puzzle out the tense air between the two people he loved most.

Liam looked to Killian and then Emma. Emma seemed as if she was content to let silence ring, so Liam responded to Killian’s question. He swallowed before saying, “She thinks I lied to you.”

“What?” Killian said under his breath, not sure if he had heard Liam right. He instinctively looked to Emma.

Emma nodded once to Liam. “He took the pages. I can prove it. Ask him to show you his hands. He’s been hiding them from me since I got here.”

Liam’s heart stopped, but he knew a way out of this trap. “Look,” he shrugged, “if it would help to clear things up, I’d be happy to.”

Emma shot him a look of challenging disbelief, but before she could accept his proposal, Killian spoke up.

“That won’t be necessary,” Killian said as he shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t need proof to know what’s really going on here. Emma, when are you gonna admit that this isn’t really about my brother?”

Emma looked taken aback, Liam noticed. Hadn’t the thought occurred to her that Killian would automatically assume that? It seemed Emma didn’t know Killian as well as she thought, Liam smugly thought to himself.

“What else would you think it’s about?” She asked slowly, confused about why Killian was questioning her motives.

Killian gestured between him and Emma with his hook. “Us,” Killian said plaintively. “You think if you can prove that Liam is a villain, then I’ll somehow feel like I was less of one. That you can convince me I’m worth saving and that we’ve got a future together.”

Liam glanced between his brother and his brother’s lover, wondering if she caught the same rough edge to Killian’s voice at that last bit that Liam had. Liam felt a surge of guilt go through his stomach at the thought that Killian’s hopes were being dashed, but Liam knew that it was for the best.

Killian walked closer to Emma, almost unconsciously, Liam noted. It seemed to him that Killian couldn’t break himself away from her no matter how much he said he wanted to. It suddenly struck Liam that he wasn’t the only one lying in this yard. In fact, Liam wondered if the only one of them telling the truth at this moment was Emma. He wondered if she were the only one who could possibly tell the truth now, as caught up in his mistakes as he was and as disappointed in himself as Killian was.

Emma’s face turned down and sadness peppered her voice. “You agree with him?” she whispered, and Liam’s heart lifted that their scrutiny seemed to be off of him and onto each other. Selfishly, he had no thought for Killian’s discomfort.

Killian shrugged. “Why bring me back if I should just love on? After we defeat Hades, I won’t be returning with you. My fate isn’t in Storybrooke. It should be determined here.” Killian’s eyes kept shifting back and forth from her eyes to the roofline of the house. He couldn’t look her in the eyes as he said his words.

Liam saw how much it hurt Killian to deny Emma the one thing that she wanted most. He wondered if she knew Killian was lying as well as Liam did.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Emma responded, tears welling in her eyes. “You can come home. You just have to forgive yourself.” Emma sighed and paused, trying to catch Killian’s eye, though he stubbornly looked over her shoulder. When she wasn’t successful, she continued, “Thing is… no matter how many times I tell you, or anybody else does, you have to do it yourself.” At that, she turned and walked past Killian towards the house.

Killian turned and shouted, “Emma!” When she didn’t stop, he made to follow her, but Liam grabbed his arm before Killian could take more than a step.

“Let her go, Killian. It’s for the best.” The sooner Killian could let Emma go, the sooner he could move on with Liam. Liam knew that desperately holding onto the ties to the Living was the reason why so many people down here couldn’t move on. Killian going after her would only delay the inevitable.

Killian sighed in frustration and looked down at the hand restraining him. He loved his brother, but he was really getting annoyed with the man. If he were to move on, he didn’t want things between him and Emma to have ended in strife and pain. He was just about to retort this to Liam when his eyes processed why Killian hadn’t looked back up to his brother’s face. Liam did have ink stains on his hands. Ink stains that Killian knew hadn’t been there when they arrived at the mansion. Ink stains much like the ones he himself had incurred when he rifled through the book’s pages in search of Hades’ story.

“Your hand,” he mumbled, dumbfounded. “You are hiding something.”

Liam tried to jerk his hand back, but it was too late. Killian grabbed Liam’s arm and held it up so he could check to make sure he had seen ink stains.

“It’s nothing,” Liam halfheartedly to excuse.

Killian stared at his brother’s hand uncomprehendingly. “It’s ink from the pages. Emma was right,” he said softly. Killian swallowed and looked up to stare his brother in the eyes. “Why would you lie to me?!”

Liam tried to find the words to explain, but his voice died in his throat. To be honest about this would mean admitting to what he had done, to the deal with Hades, all of it. Liam didn’t have it in him to admit to those failings, but how could he lie to Killian otherwise?

“Because…” called out a voice. Liam and Killian both turned to see their old captain, John Silver, approaching them with the rest of their old crew. “He’s got much bigger secrets than what’s in some book. Like the truth about what he did to us.”

Killian turned to Liam, his eyes blazing with a hard, desperate look. “What’s he talking about? What did you do?”

Liam looked back at his brother, pain and tears in his eyes. He stuttered, trying to find the words that could somehow both explain and excuse what he did, but they wouldn’t come. He knew that nothing he said would mend what was now breaking between them. Killian, in spite of his quick temper and tendency to seek vengeance as retribution for wrongs committed against him, had always had a very healthy streak of justice running through his veins. Perhaps it had been because their mother had died young and their father had abandoned them, perhaps it had been because the navy had given him purpose; Liam didn’t know. What he did know was that Killian had always, always believed in good form, in helping others less fortunate than they, in always making the right choices, in fighting against tyranny and those who would mistreat others for their own gains. And this, Liam was ashamed to admit, was the very opposite of good form his brother had always believed in, and that he, Liam, had tried to foster in his younger brother as they had grown up.

Liam had sowed the seeds long ago, and now he was going to reap the benefits, no matter how hard and difficult.

“Your brother made a deal with the devil,” Silver answered when it looked like Liam would say nothing. “He allowed us to die in that storm that sank our ship in exchange for the Eye of the Storm. Hades struck that deal with him to save you and condemn us to die.”

Killian stared at Silver in shock before turning to Liam. “Is this true?” Killian asked, shock and disgust coloring his voice. As he looked at the anguish on Liam’s face, Killian knew it was true, and the image of his brother, his unfailing, strong, heroic brother, began at last to fracture and crumble.

Liam swallowed and nodded once. “It’s true.”

Liam watched as awareness of just how wrong about h is brother Killian had been made its way into Killian’s eyes. There was no going back from this. He stood staring at his brother helplessly, not knowing how to right the wrongs, only stirring when Silver spoke.

“Tie ‘em up and take them away, boys,” Silver demanded.

Before he could utter a word in protest, Silver then signaled to the rest of his crew to carry on with binding them up with rope. They took Liam’s hands and bound them behind his back, and he watched helplessly as they did the same to Killian. Killian tried to fight them off in typical Killian fashion, but there were too many of them. Killian had always been more of a fighter than he; Liam had always been more of a pacifist, only fighting when absolutely necessary but reluctant to stir up the status quo when it wasn’t.

Liam had always believed that there were certain facts that were incontrovertible, certain situations that one couldn’t change, so fighting them was pointless. It felt to him as if this situation they were in was one of the latter ones. What was the point of fighting now? He deserved whatever fate that his old crew members had in store for him. He just regretted that Killian had been dragged into this and be made to pay for Liam’s own follies.

Killian continued to struggle even as the men threw bags over their heads. Liam wondered whether Killian, as a pirate captain, was plotting out a violent and bloody way out. He thought not, as he rather got the impression that Killian didn’t actually want to hurt the men. When they had successfully bound Liam and Killian, they began frog marching them to Hades only knew what destination. As they tripped and stumbled along, Silver began to talk.

“Imagine my surprise when I came down to the bar for my nightly drink, Liam, and saw that Hades had paid you a visit. Up until that point, I had no idea what had transpired to cause our deaths. I have to hand it to you, you sure did manage to cover up your tracks. I never would have suspected it if I hadn’t heard Hades allude to it.”

“Hades wanted you to hear it,” Liam muttered resentfully.

“It is a rather juicy detail, you have to admit,” Silver retorted. “If it were your death, you’d be interested in it, too.”

“I can’t believe you sentenced them to death all because Hades wanted you to,” Killian gritted out towards his brother, ignoring Silver’s words.

Liam gritted his teeth against his brother’s censure, desperately aware of the audience they had. “Don’t deny you would have done the same thing! You always talked of getting vengeance,” he deflected.

Killian snarled. “Justice! I always talked of justice! But what you did wasn’t justice; it was vengeance.”

“Oh what’s the difference, Killian? They deserved what they got in the end.”

Without quite realizing it, they had arrived at the entrance to the building that housed the entrance to the Boiling Sea where final judgment occurred. Everyone stopped as two of the crew members went to open the outer doors, though Killian and Liam could not see this.

“The difference?” Killian echoed in amazement. “Only innocent lives, Liam! That’s the difference! How many of these men deserved retribution? How many of them directly attacked us? I only remember one who did. I can’t believe you would condemn them to this hell.”

“You have no idea what it was like, always having to look after both of us, not having someone else to bear the burden of making sure that we were clean or had food. Of making sure you didn’t succumb to the darkness inside you! I gave up everything to make sure you had a future! I was more a father than a brother to you, and because of that I did what I had to do.”

“I didn’t ask you to be that! You took that burden up all on your own! And what did it get you? I still succumbed to my darkness, and you blackened your heart for yours!” Killian shouted, enraged at Liam’s pigheaded attempts at justifying his actions. “And what’s worse is you lied about it. You looked me in the eye and lied. You hurt Emma, damn near convinced me that my future wasn’t with her, and you took away our best chance of defeating Hades.”

“I did everything I did to save you!”

“Well, congratulations!” Killian snarled in response. “You did an excellent job of it! And to hell with everyone else in the process!”

“It was worth it to have a chance to save you from the darkness,” Liam protested once more.

“You didn’t save me from my darkness; I saved myself! I took it in and damn near destroyed it for good!”

“All because of her! Emma doesn’t are about you, only herself! She is the absolute worst thing for you.”

“Milah, my ex, was the worst thing for me! She encouraged the darkness inside of me. Emma has been the inspiration for me to be better, to be the man I want to be. But you’ve never had that kind of influence, so you just keep giving into your darkness! You lie and you let others die for you and your selfish desires! When does this end Liam?! You’re the one who’s endangered me this very moment!”

Liam stared towards Killian helplessly though he couldn’t see him, knowing that he was right. Liam was still succumbing to his inner darkness. Killian surely hadn’t fed his own to the extent that Liam had his, even through all his years as a pirate hunting down the Dark One. But Liam didn’t know a way out. Liam didn’t see a way to stop this. As sure as the world, he was about to pay for his sins, and Killian was about to pay the price for a crime he hadn’t committed.

The crew finally wrenched the heavy doors open, and Silver pushed Liam through the threshold. The last thing he saw before the crew members finally wrenched open the doors was Killian’s anguished blue eyes staring back at him as if he didn’t know him. Liam knew with absolute certainty that his story ended here.

#Anmylica writes #Like Slow Spinning Redemption #once upon a time #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #captain hook #cs fanfic #cs angst

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koscheyyy · 3 years ago

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📚hello📙friemd📒heard📔you📓were📕daydreaming📖about📗writing📘 fics📚

*Cracks knuckles* *cracks neck* *cracks spine…of this book*

Right.

Im just going to bullet point a few.

• Lonelyeyes/ TMA- Afterlife Au.

- Elias wakes up face down on a beach, soaked to the bone and coughing up bloody sand. His suit is bloody from where he was stabbed in the heart and he finds a very, very weak scar that threatens to open up again. Cold and miserable and in great pain (after a big cry and scream and sulk) gets up and begins limping along the beach. Until he finds a small, stone cottage sitting on the stone just as the sea fog rolls in with the soft rainfall on elias face- so naturally he strolls right in to find it empty. And in the Goldilocks fashion, finds the big comfy bed and falls straight to sleep. Though when he awakes, he finds himself staring at the face of his deceased husband in the doorway. So, naturally (in the famous Bouchard fashion) he reacts poorly to that and in his screaming of insults and accusations barely notices the wound over his heart open up ‘til he once again awakes on that beach, wet and cold and listen to to the crunch of peters boots upon the sand. They are stuck together in a beach purgatory where they are forced to finally talk about things and actually allowed themselves to fall in love in the ways they couldn’t in life. Also tims there for comedy relief.

• TMA- murder mystery dinner au!

- the archival crew (season1- season4), simon, Rosie and elias and peter (along with many random strangers) are invited to a spooky house under different circumstances to be locked inside with a supernatural murderer on the loose. All the guests are eventually picked off until its the institute crew (including rosie, elias and his disgruntled husband) and Simon are left. Theyre split into unhelpful pairs that must navigate through the sprawling mansion and defeat the many murderous puzzles to find eachother and the killer that invited them to dinner. Will they get out alive??????

• Lonelyeyes/ TMA- camping holiday horror!

- Peter and Elias’ marriage is on the rocks and so what does peter do to try and fix it? Why, take his husband out to a leaky cabin in the middle of the woods of course! Elias isnt a fan but the time away from endless work and the smell of sea salt is a nice change. So on their holiday they encounter the strange neighbours that inhabit the forest and notice the odd traits to the town such as lots of missing pets, screams in the night and even the water running red half the time (must be broken pipes). Elias is plagued by nightmares of his murdeous guilt as peter still tries to navigate his marriage. Until theyre invited by the locals to the celebration of the solstice under the blood red moon and meet just what creature has its sights on the quarrelling couple that could possibly quench its blood lust. (I cant take full credit for this idea because it was sparked in the Lonelyeyes Discord but i cant remember by who)

• RQG angst.

- what if the party was captured by the Hades cult when they tried to rescue their loved ones? Thats it really, Alex wishes he can torture the party like i can!

#my ramblings #ask memes #fanfiction #the magnus archives #rusty quill gaming #lonelyeyes

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tapewormoffthestring · 3 years ago

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@/inanimate-insanity-headcanons is active again and by god i will spread my purgatory mansion crew headcanons to it

#im telling you like 90% of the new ones are mine #most are on anon but. yeah #i got a little excited

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ask-the-cookie-catchers · 4 years ago

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Welcome to Hotel OJ!

Summary/Explanation

Hey! So this is just a dumb thing me and my friends thought of on discord. Basically, this is a post-II AU. Lightbulb won the million, although nobody knows exactly what she did with it. Don't ask about specifics like what actually happened during the last few episodes, I'm not worrying about that. All that matters is that all the contestants are living at Hotel OJ, except for the Purgatory Mansion Crew of course.

You may be curious about the title of this blog. Well, long story short, somebody's been hiding oatmeal raisin cookies all over the hotel. It started out small but it's become kind of an issue. Nobody's quite sure who did it, and while most people suspect Cherries, nobody's getting convicted until there's proof. And you people get to ask them things! Will you use help those looking for answers, or assist the culprit in concealing their identity? I dunno, you're the ones who get to send asks!

Rules (Can be edited in the future)

1. No NSFW!

2. Please do not send asks about actual show plot. Anything about Taco, Meeple, the Shimmers, etc. will not be answered.

3. TERFS, Racists, Sexists, Anti-LGBTQIA+, etc. DO NOT INTERACT

4. I reserve the right to not answer an ask if I don’t want to. I understand Tumblr lags sometimes and asks may not always get through, but please do not spam just because an ask hasn’t been answered.

5. Submissions are NOT FOR ASKS. If the askbox is closed, it is closed. Asks sent by submissions will NOT BE ANSWERED.

Story Arcs

These are links to the first update of each story arc.

1. Beginning (Current Arc)

Other Info

Every update is tagged with “comic update” (including asks), and asks will also be tagged with “asks”

Heads up: This blog was started before I knew season 3 would happen. In this AU, the show just flat-out ends after season 2 because I don’t wanna try and work the third season into the story so it just simply Does Not Happen.

First

Latest

Asks are currently open!

#inanimate insanity #ii #ii cherries #hotel oj #ii lightbulb

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kadetheclover · 4 days ago

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What's a little possession between friends? :p

#ii #inanimate insanity #literally going inanimate insane again waiting for the 29th #bow ii #apple ii #pink apple ii #purgatory mansion crew #osc #object show community #i'm like 15% sure that the caption is a quote from beetlejuice but I have no idea what I am remembering it from to be honest #anyway still going crazy over this design #cat's art

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isolaween · 5 years ago

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

At 7 PM, all guests are waiting anxiously. Some are excited, others are nervous, but everyone wonders what will happen now. It's only been a few minutes since the lights went off, but it feels like an eternity.

And then... Golden butterflies, just like those idly flying around, begin to amass at the top of the staircase leading to the second floor. They form a true cloud, which dissolves to reveal none other than the silhouettes of tonight's noble hosts. They wear costumes inspired by 1980's fashion, just fitting for their own temporal origin. And as expected, they start the festivities with the most iconic sentence:

<"HAAAAAPPYYYYYY HALLOWEEEEEEN!!!! AAAAAAAND TRIIIIICK OOOOR TREEEEEEEEAT!!!!">

The lights turn on once again in a burst, as several magical figures, servants of the Ushiromiya family, pop into existence either on the staircase or floating above it, as they bright forth a wave of applause. The spotlights highlight the Golden Witch and the Endless Sorcerer the most, as the latter grabs a microphone to start their presentation.

"Good evening, Spirale City! I hope you folks are ready for a truly spooooky night, where the world of humans and the world of witches comes into contact with each other!"

Then, Beato took the microphone. "There is no need to be afraid, however. This is an once-a-year moment, where the grotesque, the weird, the supernatural, can exist freely, without being afraid of the limitations humans bring to them. This is a night of joy, after all."

"And speaking of limitations, that includes the temporal restrictions fashion imposes to us on a daily basis. This year's theme for our guests' costumes is a Chrono Celebration! No matter whether you came from ancient times or the most distant future, show off your time period's culture and style with pride! I hope to see many people joining this fun. Ihihi!"

"Of course, we wouldn't be so cruel to expel you if you choose to go for another path in your fun. But if you have even the tiiiiniest change of heart about it, check the rooms to the hall's right, where a costume room can be found. Alternatively, you could ask the makeup crew's assistance to make you look like a monstrous being straight from Hell! *Cackle**cackle**cackle*!!"

“Beato, please, we have children here.” He whispers to her ear, before coughing and returning his attention to the audience. “A-Anyway, that is not our only attraction! To your left, you’ll find the parlor, where a karaoke system is set up on the TV. Just ask Hieda no Akyuu (@ninthmiare), who is overseeing it, to help set you up and go have fun singing your lungs out with friends!”

A spotlight shone upon Akyuu over this mention of her, as it would do for any other person mentioned during their speech. “Of course, if you feel like that is too cheerful for a Halloween Party, you can just wait a bit later. Once we hit 11 PM, Akyuu will move to the dinner room, where a ghost story sharing session will start! Bring on your scariest tales, or read some of the material provided to us by a partner of ours-” Beatrice summons business cards for Owl’s Books to everyone’s hands, much like the cards present at the gift baskets, with info about all the partner businesses that collaborated with the party. “-for maximum fright!”

“Those who’d rather partake in a more physical activity can go up the second floor, where Emma (@gracefieldorphan) and Jon K. are responsible for carrying out a hide-and-seek game! It’s open for all ages, so don’t be afraid to join!”

“And for people who’d rather enjoy tonight in a more intellectual manner, we’ll ask you to go all the way up to the third floor. A escape room game shall await those who dare take the challenge. I hope none of you will bore our dear Piper Elenmin (@shadowedstep) with boring reasonings!”

“Lastly, we shall have an ample selection of musical attractions throughout the whole party! Starting at 19:20, we have Ultimate Pianist Kaede Akamatsu (@pureryudo) and famous idol Rise Kujiwawa (@wavesang)! Next, at 20:10, we have the idol duo of Sayo Hikawa (@heroicadvents) and Aya Maruyama (@ayasashi)!!”

“Check in at 21:00 for the spetacular presentation of fellow cute blondes, Rin Kagamine (@rightreflection) and Klavier Gavin (@rockstarprosecutor)! By 21:50, it’ll be time for yet another idol to join us, the versatile GUMI (@mozeik)!!”

“If you’d rather listen to other sorts of music besides singing, just wait until 22:40. First, we’ll have Ecaterina Ciobanu (@unulales) bringing some creepy tunes with her violin! Next, it’ll be the time for Midvalley (@midvalley-the-hornfreak) to captivate us with a saxophone show at 23:30!”

“Music shall accompany us until the end of this magical night. After the stroke of midnight, Dorothea Arnault (@chanteuser) will bring us to a night in the opera, exactly at 00:20! And to end the service, we shall have I-no (@sinfoniette) going feral with her guitar! Huh huh, I can’t wait to have all of you relieving my boredom with your sweet tunes!!”

“Ihihihihi! I think we all will, dear!” Battler says amused, before pulling a more serious face. “....Before we end it for tonight, though, I need to give you folks a general warning. This is meant to be a funny evening, with nothing but positive vibes here. Light hearted pranks are fine, but violence of any sort will not be tolerated. See these?” He points to a golden butterfly flying around. “They’re directly linked to Beato and I’s minds. If any of you try pulling anything ‘funny’ that would disrupt the party, we will know.”

“And the consequences for such violations of our hospitality will be dire.” Beato adds. “We have a strong security team. We trust them to be able of handling most rumbuctious folks. If you insist on offering resistance, however, goat butlers will appear around you and immobilize you. If that doesn’t suffice, we have our higher ranked furniture, such as the Seven Stakes of Purgatory or the Chiester Sisters, to deal with such elements.”

“And if even after all that, you insist on spoiling people’s fun...” Battler raises his hand, where a small glass-like Fragment appears. “You will be sent to this Time-Out Fragment until the end of the party. It’s pretty much a pocket dimension, so don’t think you can escape if it gets to this.”

As soon as he finished that, Battler broke into a happy smile and clapped his hands. “So, I hope everyone enjoys the party! Thank you to everyone who came, and to everyone that helped and is helping us right now! Oh, and a last thing. If any of you gets hurt or feels ill, check the medical room, where you’ll receive due treatment. That is it for now!”

With that, Battler and Beatrice teleported away from the staircase, freeing the way up. They must be somewhere in the crowd now, as they wish to enjoy the party as everyone else...

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

(Hello, everybody! This is Battler-mun talking. Welcome to the first edition of Isolaween! Following the tradition of C*ttaween, this party will last ICly from October 4h, 7 PM, to October 5th, 2 AM. These are very special dates for the Umineko fandom, which is why the party happens this early.

OOCly, the party will last from this post’s bublishing time, which should be midnight of October 4th (Isola time) to midnight of October 11th (Isola time), unless the mods request us to end it earlier. You can obviously continue threads related to the party until then, but make sure to publish your starters and opens before end time! And remember: use the tag #isolaween2k19 so we and everyone else can see your interactions at the party!

Below are maps of the mansion, so you folks have an spacial reference on where each room is in relation to the others:

As mentioned in the text, there will be musical presentations during this period, which will consist of drabbles written by the collaborative muns. The OOC dates for each presentation is below, so keep a look at these blogs at the corresponding day:

- Kaede and Rise: 10/4

- Sayo and Aya: 10/5

- Rin and Klavier: 10/6

- GUMI: 10/7

- Ecaterina: 10/8

- Midvalley: 10/9

- Dorothea: 10/10 (Around midday)

- I-no: 10/10 (Evening)

The rules of the festivities have already been well laid ICly, so I won’t repeat myself here. Just let’s try keeping things positive during the party, ok? Any doubt just ask either me (@ingoldentent) or Beato-mun (@goldenless) And above all, let’s have fun! Now excuse me while I go download Ciconia…)

#isolaween2k19 #isola news

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marquise-mindfang · 5 years ago

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[When Mindfang returns to her home, she will open the foyer to several butchered and dedicated bodies on the floor. The walls, equally gruesome, with a multitudes of colors splattered with a large ":O)" layered over in cerulean] (oholiestofmirth)

@oholiestofmirth

Mindfang was very pleased to be home. Sure, the sea was the place she enjoyed dwelling most. It was a weird-like purgatory for her, where it was her against the threats of nature, the Privateers and rivaling pirate crews. She answered to no one. If she lived, she’d survive, if she die, then she’d die a legend of the sea.

If anyone said the sea was boring, they hadn’t been out on it and they most certainly wasn’t an outlaw.

She’d jog up the Marble City path, trying to find her feet on the ground again and seeing sight of her mansion up on the hill overlooking the ocean. It had been several months since she seen this place, and right now all she wanted was to put her feet up and call it a night regardless of the state it was in.

There was one reoccuring theme in the corsair’s life however, and that was happiness not lasting very long. She had gained a pessimistic attitude about the outlook of life in the past few decades, and had gotten rather controlling over people because of it.

She was paranoid.

And it was nights like these that revealed why she was weary of new people, why she was so controlling of those she deemed under her protection and why she still hated her ex moirail.

“I’m home!” She’d sing, announcing to nobody particular but she thought it might be funny to startle a butler or two in her surprise entry.

Yeah.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Instead her foot stepped into something that crunched under her boot as she brushed in through the door like a musical theatre actor. But froze still in the position of jazz hands, when she opened her eyes to see the massacre before her.

Sickness rushed through her body. The strong smell of decay was like no other. She had seen crew members on the deck get shot and stabbed, but this person...no, this monster, took its time to decapitate each one of her servants who worked in the mansion and slaughtered them all, leaving a rather visible smile on the floor.

Was she selfish to dismiss all the other deaths for one in particular? That there was only one thought that flashed before her eyes at this very moment.

“Pardus?”

She’d call softly. Not sure if the threat was still here. When there was no response, she began to panic.

Hunting through all the dead bodies and getting herself covered in blood.

“No, I can’t lose you again.” Her voice cracked, her hands were a sludge of different colours now. “I won’t lose another!”

She’d turn each decapitated head over, looking at the people she once worked with in the dead eyes. Sometimes her heart skipping a beat if she saw horns that looked like hers, or an olive limb sticking out under a pile of bodies.

“PARDUS!”

She’d scream, still looking for her. Hands trembling with shock and anger, turning body, over body, over body. But her body wasn’t amongst the pile.

Her body wasn’t there.

The was no relief in that. Infact, it made it all the worse.

What if she was gone? Taken?

Oh god, she didn’t want to think about it.

She didn’t do anything wrong in all of this.

But she knew who had done this and the thrill he got from hurting those deemed guilty by association.

She promised right there and then that she would kill him for it.

He would die by her blade if a head on her hair was out of place.

And she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had his head on a spike.

#ic #hoo boy))#gore //#death //#long post //#oholiestofmirth //#meowderous //#Anonymous

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universes-capturecard-blog · 6 years ago

Text

scar (07/01/18)

His chest was covered in what looked like claw marks, and on his back, there were two spaces between his shoulder blades that were smooth and red; they stretched slightly out to his sides, as if something had been on his back and the skin had been torn off when it was removed. His blond hair held a ring of smoky black, like it had been burned and the boy didn’t bother to fix the mess. No one had ever seen the scars, and that was the way he wanted to keep it, and he always came up with the excuse that it was a dye job gone south. No one knew the story, and even the rest of his kind didn’t know the whole story, or had seen the scars that he wore.

The story wasn’t gruesome at first. It wasn’t even a story, it was just his life. The boy had grown up running around in the golden roads of Heaven, watching as his halo glowed brighter and brighter with every birthday he had, seeing his wings ruffle in the wind that always seemed to follow him. Everyone loved him as he grew up, almost no one thought that he could do anything wrong. In fact, most of the angels in Heaven thought that he was the purest of them all. God even called to him multiple times to take care of some Earthly business, ones that the archangels like Michael and Gabriel took care of. He was flying with the big shots by the time he was a teenager, and that was big - it meant that he had power, and he always used it for good.

Except one time.

It was the middle of the winter, and the boy was told to guard over a girl his age; she had been suicidal, and his job was to watch her and send thoughts her way to guide her through the problems instead of hurting herself. For the first few nights, it worked. He kept her away from the things that she’d normally want to do, and she seemed to be getting better as if by some kind of miracle (of course, he was the miracle). About a week in, though, her demons starting coming back. He’d see them out of the corner of his eye, see them in the shadows during the middle of the night - one time he’d even seen one sliding into bed with her and slither under the mattress when it saw him. Sometimes, he would manage to banish them, but the small apartment was starting to get crowded. So, the boy did the sensible thing - he fought.

There was a day when her thoughts were darker than when he had first come down from Heaven. She was on the brink of just ending it, and everyone in her life could tell. The demons in the house kept coaxing her towards the edge, and that was when the boy decided that he was done. He was going to fight the demons, kill them if he had to. Yes, killing was against the rules, even when it came to demons, but he had to help this girl. It helped him with his objective, and if he could somehow get her out of this funk by sacrificing a few of Hell’s servants? Then he’d do it.

The boy took his halo from above his head and closed his eyes, feeling as the thin metal turned into a thick handle. When he opened his eyes, there was a golden sword in his hand, made of holy metal, which would kill a demon with one foul swoop. Even the light startled the shadows that had come to take up every wall of the apartment complex, but by then, they weren’t shadows. What had taken their places were the people that had once been good, but were corrupted by Hell and everything that could possibly be unholy. A mix of men and women, all surrounding him, now with weapons that the boy had never seen before.

My chance of winning is one in one thousand, but if I can just get rid of enough of them, maybe they’ll all leave, he thought to himself, standing in a defensive position.

Within seconds, it started.

Two of the demons moved in, wielding what looked like some twisted version a katana and a some kind of other sword that looked like even the best blacksmith couldn’t recreate it. Metal clashed metal, skin sizzling as the light from the boy’s sword burned the demons where they stood. The boy was cut a few times, but managed to rid of the first two, just as three more came forward, carrying similar weapons of the first two. The girl he was supposed to be guarding looked confused, but still slightly more relaxed than before - he was thankful that she couldn’t see or hear anything that was going on. He watched from his peripheral vision as she walked towards the kitchen, a small breath of air leaving his mouth in relief. She was leaving the room, which would make things infinitely better, because if she wasn’t near the demons, their energy towards her wouldn’t be as strong.

The fight continued, demon after demon being slaughtered. The boy used the sword and whatever extra godly power he could muster, trying to destroy every big of evil in the room. He was working off of an adrenaline and power rush, everything going to his head. He felt that his face was flushed and hot, his breathing heavy from what he had done. The bodies that were on the floor slowly vanished into dust, all of it floating lower, back towards Hell, or maybe Purgatory. Wherever dead demon souls went.

He walked to the kitchen to see if the girl looked better again, and to feel what energy came from her - if it was light, then she would be fine for the time being, and back to recovery. But, as he walked through the threshold, he stopped cold.

The young girl was laying on the floor, with glassy eyes and a paling face. He ran to her side, not noticing the shadow that was standing by the wall, that mysteriously took the shape of a person, a demon. Before he could even turn to notice it, the demon vanished into the shadows, back to whatever pit in Hell it came from.

The boy’s human that he was supposed to guard and help had died on his watch. There was now mortal blood on his hands, and he knew that the people of Heaven wouldn’t be happy, much less God himself. But, he needed to go back to explain himself, plead innocent on the trial that would inevitably take place, and hope that his people would look back at all of the work he had done over the course of life and take it into consideration.

Before he left, he sent a premonition over the girl’s family, hoping they would take it into their minds as something serious. Taking a deep breath, he let his sword fall back to a halo, and take its place over his head again.

***

A figure was waiting for him at the large golden gates leading into Heaven. Immediately, he knew who it was - God, and the righteous man was flanked by the archangels Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel. They held disapproving looks, with crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows. As the boy came closer, Michael stepped forward.

“Damian. We heard of your offenses. The trial will be held later today, but for now, you will have to come with us. Don’t worry - for now, we just want to talk. The other archangels and the leaders of the guardians are setting up the courthouse. But let those thoughts leave for now. Relax. Come.”

The boy, Damian, walked slightly ahead Michael, out of respect for the fact that they didn’t trust him anymore. It made sense - he had killed demons, and let a human die on his watch, both of which were highly illegal in Heaven. It was in the ten commandments for God’s sake.

It took a while to get to the marble mansion that sat directly in the center of Heaven’s property since they were walking instead of flying. God led the crew, with angels they passed bowing towards them. To everyone else, this was just the angel’s strongest five people walking together for some kind of...get together. They knew better.

As they entered the mansion, God turned his head to Damian.

“My boy, what is the sixth commandment that I have made for angels and humans alike?”

Damian hesitated, watching his feet walk towards a small meeting area. God’s office, almost.

“Thou shall not kill,” he muttered, letting his bangs fall into his face. The feet in front of him stopped and turned. Fingers on his chin, forcing his gaze upon God himself. Damian couldn’t tell what the look on God’s face meant. It was a mix between anger, sadness, disappointment; everything that the man wasn’t known for. A blob of confusion mixed with fright filled the boy’s throat, causing him to keep from talking, and it seemed to choke him with every passing second. Choking to death would be better than having to stare at the older man’s expression at this point.

“Ah. I see your thoughts. You are scared. There is nothing to be frightened of, my boy. There is just punishment. You’ve broken one of my commandments, and you’ve been corrupted. The darkness that was brought upon you by the monsters you so ruthlessly killed -”

“I didn’t do it to be ruthless! That girl was practically being suffocated by all of those demons, I had to do something! Sir, they were becoming too much for her to bear, so I challenged them. I will apologize from the bottom of my heart and soul for the girl dying on my watch, but I cannot be sorry for diminishing the demons that took place in her. They needed to be rid of, they had to...had to…”

By then, Damian found that he couldn’t breathe. He fell to the floor, trying to gasp for air. As he looked up, he saw his halo in the grasp of God’s hand, watched it become crushed into golden dust. His head started to burn, the ring where the halo was before now turning into black. The dust from the halo fell to the floor in front of him, onto his free hand. He could hear God laugh faintly from above.

“My boy, you have sinned against me, and all of your people. Without begging, there can be no forgiveness, and it seems as though there will be no begging coming from even the air in your lungs. For this, you will be cast down, just as my son Lucifer was so long ago, to live with the demons that you fought so...valiantly,” the word left his lips with disgust and sarcasm, “and you will reign in the burning, fiery pits of Hell. Goodbye, my boy.”

With that, the floor and the clouds that were underneath Damian’s feet seemed to disappear. He was falling, gasping for air - the halos were like the angels life force, and with it crushed, it felt like he was dying. Even so, the feeling went away the closer he came to Hell, until he was breathing normally again. He fell on his wings, grunting at the impact.

The gates into Hell were gnarled and black, with what looked like thorns and spikes surrounding the bars. A feeling came over him, and Damian looked back just in time to see his wings turning from a shining and clean white to a smoky, coal looking black. A small breath escaped his lips, and where his halo would have been, there were now small horns.

Something snapped inside him then.

This is what you did to him. This is what you did to my brother, to Lucifer, to all the other angels that were ‘corrupted.’ You damned bitch, this is how you ruin lives of every holy being up there, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth and looking towards the red sky.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swirl of smoke. A man dressed in a black suit and tie stood there. He held a cane that was plain metal, except for the fact that it had a snake coiled around it. While its body was immobile, the head moved around, the tongue flicking out every few seconds.

The man snapped, and Damian’s vision was obscured by more of the same smoke. When it dissipated, he was wearing all black, and a leather jacket. Really, he liked this look better than the white and gold that he was usually forced to wear.

“So. You’re Damian. Welcome to Hell. Name’s Lucifer. Listen, I’m on a tight schedule, so here’s the deal - I’m going to save you the shit of killing my men and doing whatever you used to do for good ole Dad up there, and you’re gonna go ruin some lives today. Go make a slut happy, kid,” he said, and was gone again almost immediately. It was surprising - Damian always thought that Satan would be this man sitting upon his throne with succubi surrounding him, not a man who had a schedule and actually did things.

But, he’d see that everyone else was much different after he stepped into the gates.

***

Damian didn’t make it a day. Every demon in Hell knew what he had done for God as an angel, and weren’t as forgiving about it either. He had missed a step and fallen into a pit, to which all of the souls trapped in it decided to scratch and claw at him, tearing his clothes and leaving marks that would never heal properly. Most of them were on his chest, leaving the claw mark scars that no one now knew the story of.

A week went by, and then two, and he did his best to do his worst. Even with his efforts, he was still too good for Hell. Everything he did seemed to have something that would benefit someone, and Lucifer was forgiving of it...the first five times.

Finally, the King’s temper snapped, and he called Damian into his own mansion. Instead of the business casual that he had usually worn, the man was in the same as all the other demons that resided in Hell. His arms were crossed and his face just held extreme annoyance.

“Are you serious, or are you just fucking with me? You go to get some prostitutes helped out, you end up getting them arrested. You go up to bring some hell into people’s lives, you end up somehow helping them resolve their issues, the list goes on. And fucking. On. I don’t understand it. Every other ‘corrupted angel’ that comes down here has no issue wreaking havoc, but somehow, you manage to do anything but. What is your damn deal, man? You’re ruining my reputation down here. Figure you ass out, get your life together, do something, or - no. You know what. I’ve given you one too many chances, kid. I had high hopes for you, because of what you did for dad up in Heaven. But now? Man, who knew that Satan could lose faith.”

The man shook his head, scoffing. Then, he stepped forward, and behind Damian. The boy felt Lucifer’s fingers run along his wings, tugging them.

“You can’t make a life in Heaven, and you can’t even make a life in Hell. You don’t belong anywhere, Damian. So here’s the deal. I’m going to take these,” one wing was ripped off of the boy’s back, making him yell out in pain and fall to his knees, tears streaming from his face, “and you’re going to go to Purgatory to try and get your shit together there. I really do hate having to do this, kid, I really do, but there’s just no way that you can live here or there. I do hope you don’t end up killing yourself.”

His other wing was ripped from his back, and then he was spiraling down and down into an endless pit, towards Purgatory.

The scars that hallowed Damian were nothing short of painful. Of course, still, no one knew this. They didn’t even know the half of it.

Sure, he crawled his way out of the depths and somehow made it to the surface of Earth. But, between you, me, the scars on his body and the ones in his head? He wouldn’t even make it as a human.

_______________________

Please keep credit where credit is due, thanks loves

#scar #angel and demon #writing #boyfriend prompt

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