#the commission it would probably take to have a replica made

[pearl-kite]

I would like to make enough money someday to be able to pay a carpenter to make me furniture in the art nouveau style, is that too much to ask

[phantasmicfish]

Long ranty list of stuff that majorly Sucked in s4 of tua:

- number one thing I loathe is the convenient way tua got their powers back. We get this brief vignette of them without their powers in episode 1, and then by the end of the episode they conveniently find the marigold and *voila* have powers. Where were the stakes? The consequences? Show me TUA struggling to adjust to powerless life. Five annoyed that he has to use the stairs to climb a four story building. Diego failing to chop expertly w knives. Luther struggling to open jars idk give me something. Don’t just do a six year time skip and ignore the mundane!

- Adding onto ^ that I feel like it would make more sense to me if we saw TUA without their powers for maybe 3 eps in s4, and they go through a mini Journey to get them back. Instead it’s like the entire hook of the s3 finale is immediately resolved in episode 1, it annoys me to no end

- Five working for the CIA I sorta get… cuz it’s sorta what he did with The Commission. So now unmoored and powerless he’d probably go back to that lifestyle. But Five, paranoid violent genius in the room Five, not noticing the completely obvious umbrella tattoo on his boss’ wrist?

- Jennifer being introduced, immediately shrugging off the fact that her entire town was murdered/a Truman Show sham, and joining Ben with basically zero questions

- Jennifer getting no character arc beyond she was born in a squid and she loves Ben

- Getting zero recognition that Reginald is an alien. Like. Hello?? You just found out your pos father is AN ALIEN! Are the siblings seriously not going to talk about this

- Also what year is s4 set in. Why do they always dial rotary phones but mention cryptocurrency? What is this universe where everybody knows Reginald and he’s colloquially referred to as “the elite?” Are Reginald and Abigail the… President and Vice President? King and Queen? Just some people who started a massive corporation and got rich?

- No mention of Grace is criminal. It would have made waaaaay more sense if the lady who played Abigail was actually played by Grace. And it would add some heart to Reginald as a character too. Otherwise, instead of secretly loving Grace his alien wife, Grace is just some woman who was alive in the 60s and Reginald made a replica robot mom of her in 2019. For some reason. Idk I feel like the puzzle pieces were all laid out and for some reason TUA writers did not assemble them

- No mention of Pogo or Ray is also incredibly disappointing. Allison betrayed her siblings in order to be with Claire AND with Ray in one universe, but he’s not even in s4. Why even included him in the end of s3 then

- Okay maybe I’m pulling a blank but who tf is Quinn? Why does he know Klaus? Why does he hate Klaus so much?

- Why does Claire know Klaus is immortal? Why is all of sudden cool w her mom having eye glowy powers? You have no questions about that Claire huh…

- It also made sense to me that Lila and Diego would hate domestic life… and to me it seemed like even introducing their kids (not one, but three) was sort of silly. We only really saw Grace at the birthday party and then it seemed like Lila and Diego would forget and then remember the kids existed at weird parts

- Five and Lila giving up searching for a way out of the subway stations six years in seemed sus. Yes, take a break/eat strawberries but why would you stop searching for a way back? You’re supposed to be the best agents in the commission so like… where did that grit/determination go

- Ben dying and being mutated with zero understanding of what was happening to him… just sucked

[beebopboom]

A Case of Missing Weaponry

Probably the thing Archangel Michael is most known for in biblical lore is striking Satan down with a sword/spear (i see them used interchangeably) and yet it seemingly has not been touched on in the show.

Granted it is a story largely in Revelations and we are shown that that is not an entirely truthful book in the show so it might not even be a something that proves to be anything

but I have a theory for you anyway.

Michael has continued to be a mystery in this show with their motivations, their past, and their knowledge all called into question.

and yet another thing we haven’t even gotten a verbal mention of is their weapon - the legendary weapon that stuck Satan down from the Heavens.

With all the mentions of the fall and the Great War it’s an interesting detail to leave out but I was willing to leave it alone for the reason mentioned above.

However,

In @drconstellation future of echos past meta she points out the Michael parallel indeed being the one to take the shot at the Lucifer parallel - which is then later confiscated by police (ok maybe not that exact meta but i couldn’t find the one where you went into detail about it😭)

@youryurigoddess pointing about the Michael statue in the trash mountain is missing its sword

and the scene being depicted within Agnes Nutter’s book

It makes a person start to wonder yknow?

but where could this weapon be if it’s not on Michael’s being? The logical explanation is that it’s just up in Heaven somewhere, I mean it’s not like Michael has a use for it right now anyway.

So up in heaven? Confiscated? Never existed? Misplaced?... Maybe

There is one small offhand comment (you know I love those) in 1941 that threw me down a rabbit hole of what could maybe be Michael's weapon.

When Aziraphale is handing over the books he compares Agnes's book to the Holy Grail but that's not the one I want to focus on rather something mentioned right after,

The Spear of Destiny, or the Holy Lance

This spear is said to be the one that pierced the side of Jesus as he hung on the cross to make sure he was dead

The spear which was said to guarantee victory in battle. (That was until it made its way to Hitler and he lost) 

but probably one of the bigger success stories about this spear is one that actually connects it back to Michael

Emperor Constantine

He was the one to bring Christianity into the Roman Empire and believed in the power of this spear - bringing it into battle with him as his main weapon.

Constantine and his co-emperor Licinius were the ones to sign into law that Christians could worship publicly and have churches

later they fought each other with Constantine coming out victorious near the Michaelion - which caused him to attribute his victory to Archangel Michael

even going as far as comparing Licinius to the serpent that Michael defeated, as described in Revelations. Using the serpent as a symbol for Licinius in money and art

he then continued commissioning statues and art of this event eventually replacing him and Licinius with Michael and Satan, which then lead to it being standard of what Michael is known for - spear and all.

Interesting (very shortened) story isn’t it?

Now this spear has been passed along all throughout history with many people claiming to have it and different pieces of it displayed throughout the world, so maybe it just was a replica of Michael’s spear just like they did with Aziraphale’s sword - the Romans seem to have a type for their weapons

there is also a very interesting conspiracy that after the Americans found it after ww2 they brought the real one back with them and leaving a replica behind - yknow considering the hints at America having something to do with s3

How Michael’s spear would have ended up lost on Earth I do not know but I do think that this could be interesting if nothing else

either way the lack of talking about it in the show has always had me intrigued

What is up with you Archangel Michael?

[mytheoristavenue]

What the Straw Hats get you for Valentine's Day!

Summary: How your nakama surprise you for the most romantic holiday!

Warnings: All fluff, platonic!Chopper, fem!reader

Straw Hat Luffy:

Luffy frowned as he tilted the hat in his hands, inspecting it's quality. He'd commissioned it recently from a hatter on the last island, whom he'd compensated handsomely to keep quiet about their deal. The hatter had promised the pirate a replica of his own, down to the last detail, and Luffy assumed that the ins and outs of the task must have gotten lost in translation. This new hat lacked all the nicks, stitches, and frays that his had.

As usual, the captain decided to take matters into his own hands, taking a dagger, needle and thread and began molding the straw hat into an exact copy of his own. Finally he was satisfied with level of destruction he'd inflicted on the thing, he stepped back from it and smiled. In the dead of night, he crept into your room to set the gift on your nightstand with a note that read:

'A king needs a queen, and a queen needs a crown. Happy Valentine's.'

Pirate Hunter Zoro:

Zoro hummed in almost an irritated manner as he drug the cold steel of your weapon of choice through his microfiber cloth covered hand. He was so vexed over practically being forced to shine all your weapons for this stupid holiday- even though nobody asked him. He had no choice! He didn't want to go through the trouble of picking you out a gift you probably wouldn't even like, so he had to.

Then again, he wouldn't have been breaking a law if he hadn't given you a Valentine's Day surprise...but then you'd nag him about it! (Or so he'd convinced himself.)

Cat Burglar Nami:

Nami mulled over her decisions, literally weighing her options. In one hand, she held a beautiful diamond necklace, adorned with a pattern of pearl cut sapphires for color- and in the other, a 14 karat gold tennis bracelet with round cut emeralds all throughout. She sucked her lip into her bite, brows furrowed and unsure of which you'd like more. Or perhaps would wouldn't like either. She knew the ship was too far from any landmass to chance any chance at getting something else. Maybe she could just tell you she forgot to get you something, and then take you on a shopping spree at the next one?

With a hopeless sigh, she sat on her bed, groaning dramatically. She knew she was being silly and that you'd love any type of gift. You weren't as materialistic as you were, and she tended to give present that she would like to receive, but you always adored them. Maybe both..." she muttered, dragging herself off the mattress and out of her pity party to walk over to her dresser. On top of it sat a sparkling red gift box with a satin pillow inside.

Delicately, she laid the necklace out on it, before retrieving a piece of tissue paper and wrapping the bracelet in it, setting it on top. Finally, she crumbled the remaining paper and stuffed it into the box, so as to obscure the shine of the jewels, before setting the lid on and tying a silver bow around it, relieved to have made a decision.

God Usopp:

The gift that Usopp had in mind to give you was months in the making. He'd gifted you things for many other holidays since he begun this little project, having started it all the way back in April of last year. All his hard work had paid off though- all the late nights and early mornings and trips to certain islands to make sure he had the perfect supplies. On his desk sat the most perfect Ghost Orchid in an ornate pot. He'd gotten the seed from a shop that sold rare plants several islands back.

Apart of him was nervous that the flower might die in your care, after all the work he invested in it. The orchid was also endangered, which lead him to anxiously envision it being stolen if any enemy pirates ever looted the Sunny. With a deep breath he shook those thoughts away, sighing with a smile as he sat down at his desk to admire the gift. Tying a ribbon around the pot, with a small name card attached, his mind drifted off to more pleasant things, like how you might react to the gesture. Usopp was sure you'd cry, you always did when you received unexpected gifts. He was certain you'd agree to be his Valentine, most likely giving him an over joyed hug- maybe even a kiss. Blushing and snapping out of his daydreams, he paused, a bit embarrassed of himself.

Black Leg Sanji:

Sanji stayed up all night on the thirteenth, unbeknownst to the rest of the crew. He slaved tirelessly in the kitchen, crafting you the most decadent chocolates ever made. Chocolatiering was always something that he excelled at but it was his current occupation rarely had room for such a skill, that's why he loved Valentine's Day. Each truffle took him hours to create, but simply thinking of the way your eyes would light up- the way you'd at first refuse to try them, lest you risk ruining their beauty, only to cave and melt at the taste kept him going with a smile.

Once he had finally curated a dozen pieces, each not at all similar to the last, in flavor or presentation, he arranged them carefully in a heart shaped box that he'd bought from the last island, and fed the contents of which to Luffy. He wanted you to think he'd simply purchased a cheap treat for you, only to find his hand crafted assortment instead.

Cotton Candy Lover Chopper:

Chopper held a bubble of air in his cheeks as he snuck about the ship in the dead of night, well beyond his bedtime. Quietly, he his way to the deck and ascended the stairs to the gardens of his crewmates, basket and ribbons in hand. He snicker devilishly as he went through the rows, ignoring the signs labeling 'Nami/Usopp/Robin's garden, Keep out!' assigned to each respective section.

As he passed by Nami's orchard, he plucked a few of her sacred tangerines from their branches and stowed them away in his basket, before moving on to the sniper's plot, picking the least deadly looking greens he could find. Finally he made his way to Robin's flower bed and selected the prettiest curation of blossoms he could put together, before tying them together at the stems with a pink bow.

Devil Child Robin:

Robin combed through the shelves of the lounge, many extra sets of hands sprouting around the room to pick a select few books from their places. Each limb passed it's claim to one another until they reached her view for inspection. With he approval, she collected them all in stacks of three on the table, all to be tied with ribbon. The theme she'd chosen was 'tragic romance', opting for 'Romeo and Juliet' and 'Jane Eyre', just to name a few.

She had thought it a wonderful way to spend the holiday of love snuggled up with you, reading you the saddest love stories ever written to remind both of you how deep and healthy of a relationship you shared.

Cyborg Franky:

Franky wiped the sweat of his brow with a large hand, before his dainty one returned to work, tinkering and putting the final touches on his latest and most important project. Satisfied with it's out come, he grinned before falling back against the back of his chair. He was sure you'd go feral over his.

Running one last test to make sure it functioned perfectly, he wound the tiny key on the side of the mechanical box, watching it open to reveal a beautiful porcelain dancer spinning, and occasionally stopping for a pirouette on her platform.

When the display drew to a closer, the doll folded back into her hiding place and the hatch closed again as the song ended flawlessly. He chuckled a bit at his success, and delicately cradled the device, carrying it to a decorative box before wrapping it as a gift.

Soul King Brook:

All Brook could do to calm his nerves was tune carefully tune his violin, ivory phalanges trembling, a shake which traveled up his arm with a rattle- his bones clambering together. Once he could no longer deny that the instrument was in tune as it would ever get, he forced himself to gently set it down on it's stand before adjusting his sheet music.

Without a doubt, he was terrified for the most important concert of his life, the one that might ensure your place by his side for eternity- the one that he hoped would charm you into accepting his proposal.

Knight of the Sea Jinbe:

Jinbe grinned warmly, gently pinching an old photograph of you and himself, reminiscing on the moment it was taken, many years ago. Finally after a moment of looking back on the past, he carefully encased it in a golden frame, fastening the buttons that held it in place with the utmost care. After done, he wrapped the object with love, eager to bestow it upon you the next morning.

[thessalian]

This is probably important to know about.

A summary: y'all know how SAG-AFTRA was on strike recently about a lot of things, up to and including the whole thing with voice actors being replaced by AI? Well, the strike ended, but some things didn't quite get ironed out. A lot of people were still not overly keen on the lack of protections voice actors had with regards to their voices being used by AI. So something had to be done.

Something apparently was, or is starting to be. SAG-AFTRA signed a deal with Replica, an AI tech company that deals with voiced AI, about when they can and cannot use a voice actor's voice that way. There are reportedly a lot of protections for the VAs there, though without having seen the actual text of the deal, I couldn't speak to how many loopholes are in it, but I would guess there were a lot.

Why do I guess this? Well, mostly because the minute the news broke on this, every major voice actor out there started flagging up that, despite SAG-AFTRA's claims of having spoken to "leaders in the VA industry" about this, no one had heard about it. I mean, Steve Blum hadn't heard about it, and he is a foundational pillar of the VA industry. So ... SAG-AFTRA is lying when they say that they spoke to "industry leaders", frankly. The question becomes, why?

SAG-AFTRA says, "Oh, you can opt out of letting them use your voice in future!" but ... well, first of all, an AI cannot as yet mimic a human's performance, so their reputation's going to take a hit as their voices end up doing a fairly flat and unconvincing acting job because their voices' stresses and inflections are going to be decided on by a computer that doesn't entirely get nuance. Voice acting is a freelance gig, and if your voice acting gets a bad rep in the industry, you can probably kiss further work good-bye. So what option do you have but let your AI-generated voice do more work? At least there's some money coming in at that point. Which is ugly across the board.

SAG-AFTRA says, "It's entirely opt-in!" but ... what happens when video game companies start demanding that VAs go through AI tech companies instead of casting agents and literally won't hire you unless your voice is AI-generated?

SAG-AFTRA says, "It's only the one AI tech company we have this deal with!" but ... they're talking about being in discussion with several more.

SAG-AFTRA most of all says, and here I paraphrase a bit but not that much: "AI is an innovation and we can't stop it so we're just going to stop trying and make the best of it". Which is not any kind of 'best' at all, for the reasons above.

And on top of all this, and in a similar spirit to that last comment by SAG-AFTRA, Steam has decided to actually let games with AI-generated assets be sold on their platform ... provided, Valve says, that they actually state publicly, on their Steam store page, that the game was made with AI assets and exactly what those AI assets are, so that consumers can make an informed decision. Given what garbage games Steam lets through the screening process anyway, I worry about what they won't catch.

Because I am not going to knowingly touch anything generated by AI. I'm not going to do it. I've seen online friends (mainly Facebook, honestly) who do AI generated images and go, "I know, I know, buuuuut..." And I'm like ... no. Just ... no. Do I commission art as much as I'd like to? No. Could I get all the art I wanted if I would just use an AI image generator? Yeah, with the caveat that bits of it would be weird as fuck. Am I going to do so? NO. The whole point of automation was that it was supposed to do the grunt work while humans created art, not the other way around. I refuse to support it in any fucking way. I don't care if it's "innovation". I don't care that "we can't stuff it back into Pandora's box". I hate it.

I mean, at its heart, AI is just one more way to delay the inevitable bursting of the bubble economy that late-stage capitalism and "fiduciary duty to shareholders" has created. AI means they can cut more labour costs, and make profit margins expand a little more, to keep up the fiction of perpetual growth just a little longer. Companies are going to push this to its limit, and people are going to suffer as a result. I will not support anything to do with that ... well, at least if I have any choice in the matter. The worst part of all of this is that because it is companies who pretty much run everything that are pushing this bullshit, I actually don't really have any choice in the matter most of the time.

It's one more depressing thing, finding out that AI is being parcelled into damn near everything at this point, even things we're more or less forced to use. I hate that Microsoft is just bundling AI wholesale into its next Windows updates, and why I'm holding off on Win11 for as long as possible.

[velvetfoxgames]

hihi !! i was wondering how the boys would comfort us if we were to lose something extremely precious, maybe if it was something the boys gave to us too?

Alexei - He knows it won't be the same, but he'll either find a replica, or figure out a way to make it/have it commissioned. He'll of course tell you it's not the original, but he just feels really bad and this was the only thing he could think of.

Brooklyn - Takes you out to get something new that's special in some way, possibly in the same vein as the thing you lost.

Leo - Contacts anyone important to you and acquires a gift from each person (including himself), that way you'll have lots of new precious things.

Milo - Doesn't matter where it is, he'll find the precious thing.

Rory - Surprises you with a few meaningful things he picked out/made. Lots of hugs and comforting.

Tobias - He'll try really hard to find it but probably won't. Does everything else he can think of to make you feel better, like taking you out to your favorite places or watching your favorite shows.

[nadziejastar]

Question: if you were commissioned to show run a KH Disney Plus show, how would you go about it?

Well, I have heard rumors that the Disney+ series would use the Unreal Engine, but I would honestly prefer a 2D style. There was that pilot episode that Seth Kearsley made, and he said the final art style was probably going to look like a cross between ATLA and something similar to the Aladdin animated series on Disney Channel. Which...would have been amazing.

If a Disney+ adaptation gets made, I'm sure it will be very different than canon. The story has gotten very crazy (too crazy IMO) to be marketable to a new mainstream crowd. But for me personally, I would do an adaptation that was similar to the KH manga. And I would just stick to a reboot of the Dark Seeker Saga.

Season 1: A KH1 retelling, similar to the manga. The reboot could be used to add in foreshadowing of stuff like Ventus's heart being released when Sora stabs himself with the Keyblade. And also flesh out the stuff we were supposed to get in BBSV2. Riku's blank period, Pluto and Mickey shenanigans, etc.

Season 2: CoM/Days retelling. Focus on the sea-salt trio and Organization XIII. Much of the story takes place at Castle Oblivion. Instead of focusing on Sora's memories of KH1 and rehashing the Disney plots, I would focus on the Organization members' memories.

We STILL don't know much about Luxord and Demyx's pasts, but I would use the animated series to flesh them out and explain their motivations. Apparently, Demyx rejoined the True Organization XIII because he wanted to be with his old friends again. He probably has a tragic backstory. And Luxord was hoping to find the black box. This makes me think he was from Scala ad Caelum and knew about the Book of Prophecies, etc. I'm sure we'll learn more about them in ML (if it ever comes out...)

Marluxia's past with his sister could be explored via flashbacks. Although, I would not write him to be a time travelling amnesiac Keyblade wielder. I don't even think that's the backstory they had in mind when Days was written. Ventus, Lauriam, and Elrena were probably just aspiring Keyblade wielders from Scala ad Caelum. We would learn that Marluxia wanted to acquire the Keyblade and the Replica Program to resurrect Strelitzia, whom Ventus killed when he became possessed by Darkness. And Larxene was his accomplice because she had feelings for him as a human.

We could also explore the apprentices' past and go more into detail regarding their relationship with Ansem the Wise. Also, the experiments of the heart. I would change Subject X to Kairi. Kairi was experimented on as a child and locked up in the Chamber of Repose. I would use those dark memories to draw a connection to Namine, Kairi's shadow. After Lea and Isa had a chance meeting with Kairi after sneaking into the castle, they became apprentices to save her and got experimented on themselves, which I certainly think was strongly hinted at in Days. That part of the story needed to be fleshed out. We needed to learn about how Isa got his scar and the meaning of Axel's tear marks.

Season 3: A KH2 retelling. It could incorporate a lot of additional stuff that was only in the novels/manga. The Saix vs. Axel fights, more of what Riku was up to behind the scenes, etc. Re:Coded is...really not necessary. Just the letter that Mickey wrote to Sora is required.

Season 5: A BBS retelling. You could also include the stuff from 0.2 as well. Like Aqua being stranded in the Dark Realm.

Season 4: A Dark Road retelling. DR always felt like a visual novel more than a video game anyways. They could flesh out Xehanort's classmates, Master Odin, and go into more detail about how YX descended into darkness. An animated adaptation could actually finish that story. Also, the stuff from Back Cover could be included in this season.

Season 6: A KH3 retelling. Some of the stuff from DDD could be included, but DDD doesn't deserve its own season IMO. DDD was originally just the beginning part of KH3 anyway. There's a lot I would change about KH3's story. I already wrote an entire fanfic about that, so I won't go into detail here. But KH3 definitely should have felt like a much more conclusive finale than it did.

[rhiannonelf]

NFTs are an attempt to sell the concept of sentimental attachment.

Humans aren’t always logical. Sometimes, our monkey-brain latches onto things in a way that doesn’t totally make sense from an academic standpoint. One of the most silly and beautiful examples of this is our tendency to bond with inanimate objects.

We’re hyper-social beings compared to most animals, and our need for companionship often leads to forming deep attachments to things that aren’t other humans. We’re arguably* the only animals to routinely keep pets, and we’re definitely the only animals to reassure our roombas that they’re doing great.

In economics, our tendency to be bonded to our own stuff is called “The Endowment Effect” one study on the effect confirmed that the average person’s evaluation of a mug was that its worth effectively doubled if it was their mug. (As opposed to being a random mug that no one had given them)

In day to day life, we’re most aware of this effect when an object is special to us. Think about your favorite toy as a child. It was probably mass produced. Even if it wasn’t, it was probably made from a pattern that was widely available and out of materials that were made en masse. Yet, it was your toy that was special just to you. Most of us wouldn’t have even considered it if someone had offered to trade out our lovie for an identical replica from the same factory. In fact, even as an adult you probably consider it to be worth much more than some random toy of the same make and model. It’s yours. It’s special. It’s irreplaceable. It’s non-fungible.

The whole idea of an NFT is to take data that’s as widely available as teddy bears, and convince buyers to value it as if it were their teddy bear.

The concept of valuing art based on how it makes you feel is probably as old as making art. The beauty of art is it’s ability to evoke emotions in those who perceive it. Artists often work on commission because clients will often pay far more for an image that they specifically envisioned than for a random image that spoke to the artist. In the digital age, OC art is a perfect example. One of my OCs is a sea serpent-mermaid. I really like the design and I’d probably pay like $2 to have a digital picture of a similar being, but art of my special OC? Easily worth $20. I’ve bonded with her even though she’s not real. I’ve written short stories about her, and even though I have approximately $0, I would genuinely like to pay to have a picture of her, especially if I had permission to use it as cover art should I eventually publish. Most people would understand why my evaluation of the art’s worth increases 1000% if it’s of something I specifically envisioned. (Even though I’m kind of lowballing because again, I have very few dollars.)

NFTs are a bit different in that they’re attempting to get that massive jump in value by just being NFTs. Not to mention that the data they’re tied to can usually be accessed and downloaded for free, and 1000% of 0 is 0. It’s understandable for digital artists to look into ways to increase profit. In the analog art world my estimate on the value of non-sentimental vs sentimental art would have to be more like 20$ vs 200$ for a simple print.

For that purpose, I can understand the non fungibility craze. It’s a trendy way for creators to get paid extra for art they worked hard on.

What I take issue with, is the fact that a billion dollar industry has sprung up with the sole purpose of selling people the concept of value. When you get down to the very heart of it, things are valuable because we value them. Arguably fungibility is a completely human-constructed concept because we arbitrarily decide things like “diamonds are valuable” and then refuse to accept an equally shiny piece of cubic zirconium, for a diamond because of the perceived difference in value.

Big NFT dealers skeeze me out the same way that the diamond industry does. Diamonds aren’t actually that rare. The industry just has a stranglehold on the supply and creates a false scarcity. They jack up the prices to reflect the false scarcity and argue that their product is somehow superior to lab grown alternatives. It’s a capitalistic con game and I hate it.

TLDR,

NFTs are the ultimate form of capitalism. They’ve ascended past the barter system, and even the idea of exchanging money for goods and services. They are attempting to sell the feeling of attachment, and they have been unsettlingly successful.

*various animals have mutualistic symbiotes that could be considered “pets” and sometimes animals in zoos will be given their own emotional support animals during trying times. However, the human love of companion animals seems unique, as there are literally hundreds of animals that we’ll keep around just because we like being near animals.

[un-beel-ievable]

The demon brothers making plushies that look like MC 🧸

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕:

• It's impeccable, as everything Lucifer does is. Lucifer's attention to detail is second to none.

• He tries to play the plushie off as no big deal, but literally everyone can see how much effort he's put into his handicraft. The eyes of the plushie are the exact same hue as yours are (Remember when Lucifer disappeared for a week and didn't tell anyone where he was going? I'll tell you now -he was wandering from craft shop to craft shop, trying to find thread that would reflect just how beautiful your eyes are.), and he's somehow managed to replicate a tiny version of your favourite graphic tee -down to the small imperfection on the printed design.

• Wherever he goes, the plushie follows. If he's taking a power nap, it sits on his pillow. If he's doing work at his table, it sits on his laptop, ready to help (however much a plushie can help, anyway). Even when he's in student council meetings, the plushie follows. (Diavolo thinks it's adorable, and has a miniature chair custom made for the "newest student council member". Lucifer can't decide on whether Diavolo is mocking him or not.)

Mammon 💳

• He tried his best, he really did. And I'm not saying that because the plushie he made was terrible, no, it was actually pretty decent!

• He doesn't have a clue on how plushies are made, but when he saw the plushie you made of him, he decided he wanted one too. But of you, of course. 

• He's too prideful (More like your big brother than you'd like to admit, huh, Mammon?) and embarrassed to admit to you that he has no idea what he's doing, so instead of asking you for help, he turns to YouTube videos and craft blogs to learn how to crochet. After restarting his 2nd row for the 76th time and having to untangle his ball of yarn for the 40th, he's almost ready to admit defeat.

• But then he imagines how happy you'd be when you laid eyes on the plushie he'd made of you (because "EVERYONE would want a plushie made by the GREAT Mammon, it's an honour to be chosen to be MY model." )...and suddenly he's crocheting like he's been practicing for years instead of hours, breezing through instructional videos and reading written patterns like a pro.

• His final product is slightly lopsided...but other than that it's really good!! Especially for someone who had never touched a crochet hook in his life before.

• Uses mini you to practice asking real you out.

Leviathan 🎮

• Is relatively decent at using a sewing machine. After all, he tailors his own cosplay. (And if a new season of 'Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' comes out and Ruri-chan happens to be wearing an outfit he particularly likes in it...sometimes he creates a tiny replica of it for his Ruri-chan nesoberi.)

• Ruri-chan has her own shrine in a corner of Levi's room...and now you do as well!

• Your "shrine" is basically a wooden shelf (painted in your favourite colour, of course) with a cork board mounted on the wall above it. Plushie you sits on a tiny throne on the shelf, with all the presents the real you has ever gifted him surrounding your cotton stuffed twin. The noticeboard holds a countless number of momentos -mostly photographs of the two of you and tickets from all the anime concerts and events you guys have been to.

• (The throne you sit on is a replica of the fairy queen's rose quartz throne in season 4, episode 19 of ‘Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' . Official merchandise, of course; there are only about 50 of the official ones left in existence. Ruri-chan had been perched on this very throne for over a decade, all of the other demon brothers were shocked when Levi dethroned Ruri-chan just for you.)

Satan 📚

• His plushie is perfect. Almost...too perfect.

• He's become an expert in plushie making after ploughing through an endless mountain of craft books and making his way through all the handicraft videos to ever exist. And his work shows the results of his diligent research...his final product looks machine made. Flawless. No one can fault him on technique...his work is outstanding. But somehow, something is still...off. It's too perfect, too lifeless. There's no personality to it whatsoever.

• So he spends the next week experimenting with different techniques and materials. He tries crocheting, knitting, making sock plushies...but somehow he still can't capture what makes you...you.

• Mammon notices Satan giving himself a brain aneurysm over this, and makes a comment on instead of trying to think his way through the situation like he always does, he should just "feel for it, you know? Put some heart into it."

• Mammon usually says some strange things...but this time Mammon's words actually seem to resonate with Satan. So he gives it a shot, and pours his entire heart and soul into the next plushie he makes. While the plushie looks virtually the same as all his other attempts, somehow this one feels different. 

• It feels right.

Asmodeus 👄

• Commissions someone to make the plushie of you for him

• Okay, so he doesn't make the plushie by himself (he doesn't want to break a nail). But he's incredibly involved in the designing process.

• Fusses over everything from the measurements to the exact colour (and I mean exact ) of thread they're gonna use to embroider on your eyes. Makes whoever he's commissioning do multiple samples throughout the process, and if he even finds 1 tiny fault with it he tells them to burn it and start over. His criticism is brutal, but if it isn't going to be perfect then what's the point?

• When a plushie is finally made to his satisfaction, he immediately gets down to the incredibly important task of creating a doll sized replica of your closet. He's incredibly through, there's even a tiny version of that one sock you have that's had a rip through the heel for years.

Beelzebub 🍔

• Poor Beel has no idea what he's doing...not even a little bit.

• He's watched the same crafting video so many times that half of that content creator's revenue is probably generated solely by Beelzebub himself.

• Where is he supposed to insert his crochet hook again? Oops...time to rewatch the video for the 286th time, I guess...

• His massive, beefy hands are just not made to do delicate handicrafts. He's already lost several sewing needles (pray to Simeon that no one steps on them) and his balls of yarn seem to be getting tangled up with each other just from him looking at them?? Oh, and he snapped a crochet hook clean in half just now, because he set it down on the table too hard. He's crying because all these things are happening and he has no idea why.

• Belphie walks in on the catastrophe and is pretty surprised to see his brother sobbing over a ball of yarn. Beel's never really been that into handicrafts. But when Belphie sees that Beel has actually set his snacks to the side just to concentrate on making this plushie of you...Belphie knows it's serious between the two of you.

• Belphie offers to help his twin out and between the 2 of them, they manage to finish the plushie within the next couple of days (instead of the next couple of years...which is how long it would take if Beel was left to his own devices).

• "Look!! I even attached a tag that says 'made by Belphie and Beel'!" :3

• (Please be proud of this wholesome boi.)

Belphegor 🛏

• Isn't that bad at handicrafts.

• He used to do them with Lilith, back before the war. She was amazing with her hands...much better than he was. She made him one of his cow plushies...he's always treasured it, but after she passed it became all the more precious to him. Her namesake now sits on the softest pillow he has in his bed...the cow plushie to lead all cow plushies.

• He's seen the way you've looked at Lilith (the cow plushie)...and knows while you don't hate her or it, it must be difficult to have a constant reminder of someone whose shadow you'll never know if you can step out of.

• So he decides to make a plushie of you. Not to replace Lilith (both the cow plushie and his actual sister), but as a symbol of his affection for you. To remind you that you're just as important to him as Lilith was (and maybe even more so).

• His plushie making process mostly goes off without a hitch; he doesn't encounter any major problems. He still remembers the basics, and unlike Beel he doesn't have the physical strength to snap his tools in half...he's too sleepy (All that potential nap time wasted on plushie making...).

• His finished product takes up a pride of place on his pillow beside Lilith (the cow plushie). Knowing that the 2 of you are watching over him while he sleeps makes him feel truly happy for the first time in years.

[soft-citrus-central]

WHAT ABOUT YOU, HUH?? WANNA GUSH ABOUT YOUR F/O’s?? GONNA RAMBLE ABOUT SOME OCS,, PUNK???! (affectionate) (ik you have classes and such but if you want a distraction or a break then go off, babey!)

AAAHHH MAYBE I WILL

As tempting as it is to gush about Jigen, my darling gunman, there’s not much I can think about to gush about that wouldn’t just be [Vague gestures] LOOK AT HIM.

So! I will ramble about Nolan, It’ll still be no-sense, but the point still stands.

Nolan, is just one of my favorite self-inserts I’ve created as of late. She’s a mess and a little unhinged but also fun to write and work with. As you all know, when I self insert I’m the kind to write myself into the story and make it work and fit. And with Nolan it contains a lot of fun dynamics and episode ideas.

So here’s just some highlights of that, a lot within part 4 and art things. She really shines in part 4.

In Part 4, in her episode, it’s all about how crazy determined she can get over art, as a chunk of a famous Fresco work gets replaced. Not the entire thing, just a chunk, which only adds to her anger. She spends the whole episode focused on finding out where it went to discover that someone is trying to sell it, and she weasels her way into the deal as the appraiser, and steals it back, but not without some chaos. Then the episode ends with her patching and fixing the work, as she complains about the value probably dropping because of this mess.

She has a grudge with the Mona Lisa, mainly because she’s had to see it so many times and paint it. There’s a joke me and a friend have, about how in ‘First Contact’ she’s working with the collector guy, just to see the sword to just prove/see if she’s able to make a replica, cause she wants to practice her skills. The joke comes in by realizing that the collector guy has multiple Mona Lisa paintings in the room, in the background, and Nolan was there just being commissioned to paint so many of them as she waits for a chance to look at the sword. Then Lupin comes in and ruins that plan, along with one of the Mona Lisa and she gets blamed for that. So she spends part of the movie just hunting Lupin down, until she finds him, surprisingly fast I might add, and he’s quick to make a deal with her, which involves making many fake swords.

This follows lightly into Part 4 again where she is mad that the Historian in episode 14 has the audacity to call her [and Lupin] wrong and say that it's a fake. She’s mostly mad because If it was a fake it would be assumed she made it, and the guy barely glances at it, and if it was one of her fakes it would take a lot more than that to be able to tell. But also mad along with Lupin, because they both know their stuff when it comes to appraisal.

In Part 5 when they’re confronting the dark web people, she confronts her’s by holding them at gunpoint with a shotgun.

There’s probably many times Lupin has made a bet with her, where she ends up betting against herself because their current heist actually ties back to the bet in some way.

It’s just fun to describe her. She’s a skilled art forger and appraiser, who also has a kill count. Those things aren't inherently connected but damn does it bring up questions.

[king-paimon]

HnK Chapter 92 Thoughts: Reflection of Phos’s self hate

bAnother short but amazing chapter. Ms. Ichikawa once again outdid herself with those beautiful pages. And for the chapter to end on such a cliff hanger? My, Ms. Ichikawa, you continue to show your sadistic ways of toying with our feelings, and I thank you for it! But my goodness, when I first read the chapter, I couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it. Some hidden metaphors and messages that further showcases Phos’ mental state and his feeling towards not just Cinnabar... but himself?

This is definitely a hot take, but I’ll do my best to explain what I mean. Please forgive me if this turns out to be an incoherent mess. I will probably heavily edit this post as well.

Phos’s projected hatred towards Cinnabar...And himself.

When reading the first pages of the chapter, I couldn’t help but feel there was a deeper meaning behind Phos’s words and actions toward Cinnabar. It’s pretty evident and yet arguable why Phos says what he says to Cinnabar, considering everything that had happened before that lead to this point. And might I add, it’s interesting and a little sad how Cinnabar made no attempt what so ever to reject the comments and instead passively agreed with all of them. I’ve already seen several posters talk about the significance of Cinnabar’s response and I think they are all very thought provoking. In fact, @rinboz recently made a really good post about this and I think anyone who’s curious should read it.  But this won’t be the focus of my post. Instead, I want to focus on only what Phos was saying.

“They’re only using you, you know?”

“None of them are really your friends.”

“You’re just awkward, so they pity you”

“Those like you can be broken at the slightest touch. Right, you pathetic two?”

I think Ms. Ichikawa wrote these comments this way on purpose.  

Maybe I’m looking too much into this, but I couldn’t help but feel that these words weren’t only directed at Cinnabar, but maybe more so of what Cinnabar represents to Phos. Again, yeah it’s clear that Phos is saying all of these degrading comments to Cinnabar and why, but it also feels like he’s also saying them about himself. Or rather to his former self. To the naive Phos who wanted to be useful, who wanted to find his purpose, who wanted to find answers, and who wanted to help Cinnabar in any way he could. That gullible, awkward, pitiful, weak gem…

Many times, Phos has shown that he viewed his former self in a negative light and those feeling accumulated as the story progressed. The most recent and evident display of his negative feelings towards himself was back in Chapter 83, during that dream sequence. Remember how most of the gems who had an impact on Phos were saying belittling comments towards him? Even if the some of the gems said similar things to Phos in his past, it’s clear that Phos was subconsciously projecting these disheartening thoughts of his naïve, weaker self to himself.  That version of himself that he now wants no part or reminder of. And I think Phos is doing it again in this chapter through his comments towards Cinnabar, because of Cinnabar’s connection with the “old” Phos. Maybe the current Phos subconsciously sees Cinnabar as a sort of representation or a reminder of that old Phos and this just amplifies the disdain Phos now has for Cinnabar.

Basically, I believe Phos is projecting onto Cinnabar while also disassociating his current self from his past self through his words. Pretty much “the pot calls the kettle black.”  I also believe that these feeling of projection, detachment, and resentment towards Cinnabar and his former self was also illustrated by Phos destroying the small mercury replica Cinnabar made that looked like the old Phos. Again, I might be looking too much into this part, but I think the simple action of destroying that small replica is a metaphor for what Cinnabar represents to current Phos and how he rejects the old version of himself.

(Edit: I have a correction to make here; it was actually Cinnabar that destroyed the mercury replica, not Phos. Though this slightly changed how I originally saw the scene, the themes of projection, detachment, and resentment is still there, just this time from Cinnabar. Thank you @tsundere-bellwether for correcting me and for explaining the scene so well!)

He’s not that Phos anymore. I mean, after all:

That Phos was just a tool to everyone when he was considered useful.  “They’re only using you, you know?”

That Phos has no true friends who truly value them (at least not anymore.) “None of them are really your friends.”

That Phos was awkward and everyone pitied him. “You’re just awkward, so they pity you”

That Phos was fragile and weak; could be broken at the slightest touch both physically and mentally. “Those like you can be broken at the slightest touch.”

That Phos was nothing. Just like Cinnabar. “Right, you pathetic two?”

(Please let me know if this sequence was confusing at all. I admit, I got a little carried away when writing it. I’ll try to edit it or cut it out if this was too confusing)

Again, I know this is a stretch and a hot take of this chapter, and I’m sure not many people saw this the same way as I did. But I think it’s clear that those first few pages have a lot of weight to them. And regardless of whether they mean anything deeper or not, I think Ms. Ichikawa did an excellent job further demonstrating how far Phos had fallen.

What will happen next? Not Phos’s salvation.

That’s the big question, isn’t it? Especially after that ominous ending in this chapter. Did Phos and Cinnabar survive? Will Cinnabar be the 7th treasure after all? That theory is starting to become more likely. (I hope you Cinnabar stans are doing OK.) There’s still a lot of uncertainty as to what will happen next but here’s what I believe will transpire in the next chapter: Phos will make it out somehow, most likely just barely, Adamant will make an appearance, and Phos will demand that he gives him salvation. But I think we all know that will not happen in the way Phos wants.

I’ve said this many times before and I know others are on the same page: Phos is destined to not get a happy ending with how the story is currently progressing, and I believe it will be because something will happen to Adamant. I still stand by my theory/prediction that Adamant is going to be destroyed, one way or another. Maybe it’ll be because despair consumes him because most of his precious children are gone and it’s essentially his fault? Maybe him constantly breaking his body when fighting the Lunarians is finally having a permanent effect on him? Or…Maybe Aechmea has another trick up his sleeve and will do something that will take Adamant out of commission before he even gets the chance to give Phos what he wants.  Either way, Phos is going to denied salvation once again and this time, there’s nothing he could do to change it.

I think I’ll make a prediction post of what I envision would happen next. I don’t know why I keep coming up with these, especially since they make more more anxious and nervous for the next chapter, at the same time, they’re kinda fun. We’ll see.  

I think the next chapters will be truly devastating, even more so than what we’ve already seen. And I think it’ll be especially hard for the fans who want Phos to truly make it out victorious. Phos’s euphoria is coming to an end. His sweet revenge is nearly complete. But everything is going to come crashing down on him very soon, I can see it.

And it won’t be pretty.

[vostara]

love me like you hurt me - p.2

we make mistakes, we leave them by the door

pairing: Rafe Adler x Original Female Character x Samuel Drake

blurb: “But once, I think I loved you.”

word count: 14.9k+

title inspiration: I Run to You - MISSIO

The second (and final) part of the series. I’ve very much loved the process of writing this story and I adore Sabina and her interactions with Rafe and Sam. You can expect to see more of her in the future, since I have spin-off/sequel one-shots planned. I don’t know when they’ll be released, but they’re coming.

This work is cross-posted on Ao3.

01 | 02 ... series masterlist

February 2001

A month ago, Sabina packed her duffle bag and left Scotland on the first flight that she could book. She flew to England, then took a train to France. Swung her way through Switzerland, Italy, and Austria, before finding herself here.

Germany.

Sitting on a bench inside of a tiny museum, Sabina stares at the painting displayed on the wall. Before her is a sea of lavender. Plants are angled towards the right, leaning with an invisible breeze. In the center is a young woman, dressed in a high-collared white dress. And in her lap is a toddler, waving around a bundle of flowers.

From her peripheral vision, she watches as a man joins her on the bench. His hand twitches, and he reaches out for her, tempted to brush his fingers against her own. Instead, he drops his hands into his lap and turns to look at the painting.

“You found me,” Sabina says.

The man remains silent.

“How?”

“It’s not important,” he says.

Finally, she turns her head to look at him, turns to look at Rafe. “You paid someone.”

“Actually,” he shakes his head. “I asked Nate.”

“I didn’t tell him where I was going.”

“No, but he made a startlingly educated guess.”

Sabina hums. “I don’t suppose he came here with you, did he?”

“Nate left,” he sighs.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m pretty sure he hates you.” She reaches for the ring on her finger, fiddling with the sapphire gemstone. “When did he leave?”

“About a week after you did.”

“So,” Sabina says, “there really is nothing at the cathedral, then?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Rafe responds.

“We’ve spent weeks looking. Weeks digging holes, turning over every single pebble. There’s nothing there,” she says. “No clue. No treasure. No sign that anything associated with Avery has ever existed there.”

“There has to be something there.”

“But there isn’t,” Sabina directs her attention back to the painting. “Maybe it’s time to let it go. Let the treasure disappear into obscurity.”

“Why are you giving up?”

“Why would you care?” Sabina counters. “You’ve got the cathedral, all of the clues. If you find the treasure on your own, you get all of the profit. A hefty sum to add on top of your hefty inheritance.”

Rafe clenches a fist.

“Sam was the Avery expert,” she continues. “Without him and without Nate… I just don’t see the point in continuing. Their knowledge about this is leagues above my own. The truth is that I was probably just tagging along for the ride.”

“I am sorry, you know,” Rafe says, “about Sam. His… it wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It all feels surreal,” Sabina admits. “Like I’m wandering through a terrible dream. I feel like I’m going to wake up, any minute now, and he’ll be there to greet me with a horrible cup of coffee and stale croissants.”

“Were you two…”

“Together?”

Rafe averts his gaze to the tile floor.

“No,” she says. “Not quite. We were… complicated. He was never really good at commitment—neither of us were, really.” Sabina sighs, “Maybe it’s due to our similar upbringings. We both grew up without our parents. Stability is a luxury that we haven’t quite experienced yet.”

“What happened to them? Your parents?”

With a slight tilt of her head, Sabina mulls over her response. “When you spoke to Nate,” she says, “did he specify exactly where I would be in the museum?”

Rafe takes a moment to think. “He did, yeah.”

“The first time I came here, I was with Sam,” she says. “It was raining outside, so we popped in to escape from the cold. And when I saw it,” she nods her head towards the painting, “I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Sam joked that he would steal it for me one day. Though, knowing Sam, he was probably being serious.”

She stands and takes a few steps closer to the painting, her face glowing from the faintest hint of a smile. “Mother and Daughter Pick Flowers, such an original title. Artist: Jean-Jacques Pierre de la Sablonnière, a French painter. It was quite well-known that he hated men. In fact, he refused to paint them. Claimed that they were vile creatures. It is believed that when the Duke, Prince Louis Amilcar François d’Orléans, attempted to commission him for a painting, he laughed his face and danced on his way out of the villa. Of course, the Duke was upset, embarrassed. He stormed into his garden and shouted for his guards. And poor Monsieur de la Sablonnière was found dead, stabbed through the heart, just three days later.”

She turns around to look at Rafe, whom is still sitting on the bench. “I don’t remember my parents,” she says, walking back towards him. “I was a child when they died. Old enough to remember them, sure, but I can’t remember people if they barely had a presence in my life. What I do remember is this painting. A replica was hung in the living room, above a neglected fireplace full of dust. I wanted to be the little girl in the painting, to also have the joy of sitting in a sunny field, picking flowers with my mother. It’s a bit said, you know, that I don’t remember my mother’s face, but I remember my nanny.”

Sabina sits down on the bench, inches away from Rafe. “My parents were murdered,” she says. “After months of being away, they had finally come home. I was so happy. Even though I had grown out of bedtime stories, my father read one to me. And when he was finished, I begged him to read another and another. I think I was afraid that he would never read me one again. We stayed awake, long after my bedtime, but neither of us cared.

“My mother died first. We heard her screams, her pleas for help. Heard her begging the the intruders to stop. My father picked me up, carried me into his study, and hid me in a secret space beneath the floorboards.” Sabina unclasps the gold chain around her neck and places the medallion in Rafe’s hands. “He gave that to me. Told me to keep it safe, hidden. I don’t really remember what happened after that. Sometimes, in my nightmares, I recall the sound of a gunshot. Of papers being pushed, scattered. Cabinets crashing against the floor. I see blood seeping through the cracks in the floor. I feel it dripping down onto my face, onto my hands.”

Sabina exhales, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I don’t know who, specifically, killed them; they were never caught. But since then, I’ve spent an alarming amount of time running away from people who wish to murder me. Whatever my parents found, whatever that medallion is, it’s worth something. The boys and I speculate that it’s related to Avery’s treasure, but we’ve been unsuccessful with our attempts to solve the puzzle.”

“Sabina,” Rafe says, “let’s work together.”

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“Tell me,” Rafe looks down at the medallion, brushing his thumb over the etched symbols. “Do you still want to find Avery’s treasure?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then come with me.”

“I can’t—not without Sam—”

He reaches out towards Sabina and wraps his fingers around her hand. “You don’t need the Drakes, Sabina. You’re more intelligent than you think you are.”

“Why are you looking for this?” She asks. “What could you possibly gain? It can’t be the money, you already have that.”

“Curiosity,” he says. “Boredom, maybe.”

“Treasure hunting: an unusual cure for boredom.”

Rafe chuckles.

“I want to be equals,” Sabina says. “We split the treasure, fifty-fifty.”

“Hey, I’m the one footing the bill for—”

“Fifty-fifty. Take it, or I walk.”

“Deal,” Rafe says.

December 2015

A few years ago, Sabina figured out that life with Rafe is easier if she avoids the topic of Nathan Drake. Though her husband would never admit it, it was clear that feelings of rage, frustration, and jealousy were building up inside of him. He hated what Nate had accomplished on his own, hated what he had accomplished without him. And Nate’s current involvement with Avery’s treasure hasn’t helped. In fact, spending the past few weeks chasing after him had skyrocketed Rafe’s anger, making her husband almost unbearable to be around.

After Scotland, they followed Nate here, to Madagascar.

Drowning beneath the burning sunlight and stifling humidity, Sabina does her best to keep herself calm, composed. So far she has been successful in convincing Rafe and Nadine not to murder Nate at first sight, but as the promise of finding treasure draws closer, their patience is beginning to wan. Currently, the trio are driving in a jeep through one of the cities, providing a much appreciated gust of wind to cool down their sweaty bodies.

Rafe pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number. A few moments later, he laughs. “Here I am, I’m calling what I thought was Sullivan’s phone… and look who picks up,” he says. “How you been, Nate?”

Her ears perk up at the name.

“I wish,” Rafe chuckles. “That only would’ve cost me a few shots of rum, right? No, no, I had to pay top dollar to find you guys.”

Sabina frowns. Just how much money has Rafe invested into this not-so-friendly competition? He must be more on edge than she had assumed.

“…you pulled off some clever moves there,” he says. “But in the end, all that matters is who gets to Avery’s treasure first.”

A brief pause.

“Hey, Nate, you know I’m always game,” Rafe responds. “But my partner,” he turns his head slightly, to glance over at Nadine, “well, she prefers to… mitigate unnecessary risks.”

Sabina tenses and her eyes flicker over to Nadine, but she ignores her gaze.

“Look, Nate. I’m gonna make you a one-time offer here,” he continues. “You drop everything. Go home, live your life… and I’m willing to forgive and forget. For old time’s sake.”

Nadine looks over at the man, as he listens to Nate’s response.

“Okay,” Rafe shrugs. “‘Pro Deus quod licentia.’ For God and liberty.” He smiles, “These are nice pictures, Nate. Good composition.”

A feeling of dread punches Sabina in the stomach. She leans forward in her seat and grabs onto her husband’s shoulder.

“You stole my cross!” Rafe says. “Listen, Nate, if you’re half as smart as you think you are, you’ll accept my offer. What’s it going to be?”

“Rafe,” Sabina says, jostling his arm.

He ignores her.

“Well, Nate, one more thing—Nate!”

A pause.

“You… you do realize that your phones are equipped with GPS, right?” He asks. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.” He ends the call, finally turning to look at her. “What?”

“What did you do?” She asks.

“Honey, don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe—”

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“What is wrong with you?” Sabina yells. “This is—this is absolutely crazy!”

“Sabina,” Rafe says. “I need you to calm down.”

“Me?” She laughs. “You need me to calm down? Have you listened to yourself once in the past few weeks? Hell, the past few years? Everything is Drake this! Drake that! God, maybe you should’ve married him, huh? He’s all you ever talk about. Too bad you’re sending people to go fucking murder him!”

“I am not going to do this with you right now.”

“Is this why you hired Shoreline?” Sabina says. “So you could get rid of anyone that stands between you and that treasure?”

Rafe doesn’t respond.

“When this is over, I’m done.”

“Sabina—”

“No, I am sick of this. You aren’t the person I married. You aren’t even the person from five years ago.”

“Sabina—”

“Shut up,” she says. “Just… shut up.”

September 2001

Sabina fiddles with her emerald green satin dress. It was something that would have cost her a small fortune, more than triple the rent of her tiny overpriced apartment, but Rafe had insisted on getting it for her.

This is ridiculous, she had said. It’s just a dress.

Really, it’s nothing. Rafe said, waving away her protests. If you want to blend in, you’re going to need to dress the part.

I can’t ask you to pay for this.

You don’t need to ask, he chuckles. I’m telling you that I’ll pay.

But I’ll only ever wear this dress like once, maybe twice.

That would be a real shame. You look really beautiful in it.

The comment had shut Sabina up, bringing forth a light blush to stain her cheeks.

I know that this doesn’t seem like pocket change to you, Rafe said, but it is. And even if it wasn’t, this dress would be worth the price.

“Sabina,” a voice calls. A hand reaches out for her own, intertwining their fingers between hers. “Relax,” they say, “the more you twitch, the more attention you’ll bring to us.”

She sighs, looking at Rafe. She squeezes Rafe’s hand, as she glances around the room.

The pair were at an exclusive, membership-only bar. A hotspot for filthy rich assholes, those that are usually linked to shady business deals and other questionable methods of income. Sabina felt out of place, standing amongst the elite of wealthy society. While these people sweetened a cup of tea with liquid gold, she was one to ration a bottle of honey.

“Maybe I should go,” she says. “I feel like everyone can tell that I don’t belong here.”

“Nonsense,” Rafe says. “Everyone knows that you’re here with me; they all watched us walk in together.”

“Every time I exhale, someone looks at me like I’m tainting the air.”

“Ignore them.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she huffs. “Nobody is looking at you like you’re trash that someone dragged in from the street.”

Rafe chuckles. “They’re curious about you.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone believes I’m a gold digger that’s playing you.”

“Come on,” he says, tugging at her hand. He begins to lead her out of the bar.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“But the seller—Rafe—he could be here any moment.”

“He can wait five minutes,” he says. “You look like you’re about to suffocate.”

“But—”

“Trust me, Sabina.”

She sighs, but stops her struggle.

Rafe leads her up a short flight of stairs and then outside, onto a balcony. The late night air of Germany chills her arms, triggering a layer of fresh goosebumps. But she ignores the cold when her mind becomes focused on the view in front of her. The balcony overlooks a vast forest of pine trees, illuminated by the silver-blue haze of moonlight.

Sabina takes in a deep inhale of the crisp air.

“What’s bothering you?” Rafe asks.

“What?” She turns to look at him. “Nothing. Nothing, really.”

“Wow,” he takes a step closer to her, placing his hands on the iron railing. “You didn’t even try to sound convincing with that response.”

“I’m fine.”

“The key to a good partnership is communication,” Rafe says. “So, communicate. Talk to me, huh?”

“I feel like I’m wasting your time,” Sabina admits.

“What? Why would you think that?”

“And your money,” she continues.

“What are you talking about?”

“What if I can’t solve the medallion?” Sabina grips onto the railing in front of her. “Can’t solve the puzzle or figure out whatever piece I need in order to even attempt solving it. Or what if it’s broken? What if it was part of something else and that something is long gone? Rafe, I’ve barely contributed anything in the past year.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but Sabina interrupts him.

“We’ve hardly made any progress,” she says. “Maybe I’m holding us back, leading us in the wrong directions. God, I keep turning those fucking rings. As if it’s going to make a difference and one day I’ll magically line it up correctly and everything with click into place. But it hasn’t happened… and I’m not sure if it will.”

“You’re not wrong,” Rafe says. “We’ve been circling the same set of clues for longer than either of us would like to. But that doesn’t mean we should give up altogether.”

“I think we should part ways,” Sabina says.

His eyes widen.

“We started off as business partners, but let’s be honest. We’re hardly fifty-fifty. You’re footing the bill for everything,” she says. “Our trips. Our purchases. Our bribes. You’ve even started paying my bills, covering my living expenses. We can’t be equals if the contributions aren’t equal. You give everything, but I have nothing to give in return.”

“If you think I’m mad about the money, you’re mistaken. I’ve told you before, money isn’t a problem.”

“You keep saying that!” Sabina runs a hand through her hair, ruining the perfect curls. “I appreciate the help, I really do, but I feel like I’ve become far too indebted to you. If we don’t find Avery’s treasure, I’ll never be able to pay you back for everything.”

“You don’t need to pay me back,” he says.

“Rafe—”

“I don’t financially support you because I want you to feel like you’re in my debt,” he says. He reaches out for her hand, but freezes, unsure. “I do it because I believe in you.”

“You’re sucking up to me,” she smiles.

“I do it because I need you,” Rafe gently wraps his fingers around her arm, turning her to face him. “I want you to be in this with me.”

Sabina blinks, confused by the hint of longing in his voice.

“I care for you, Sabina. I’m in love with you,” he says.

She freezes, processing his words.

“You’re not a burden to me. You’re brilliant, one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met. And despite every terrible that that has happened to you, you still manage to show kindness. You are caring, protective of those close to you.” Rafe pauses, taking a breath. “When we were in Columbia, when you almost—”

Died. 

The pair had gone to the country just a couple of months prior to investigate a cave with a potential lead. While examining the markings carved into the stone, Sabina had set off a trap, triggering an explosion. Rubble had fallen down near the exit, blocking her inside and separating her from Rafe. Moments later the cave was flooding. Desperate, Rafe and Sabina pushed and pulled at the debris, trying to make a big enough hole for her to slip through. As her lungs began to fill up with the water, she started to lose consciousness. Rafe had managed to pull her through a gap, just before she had blacked out completely.

“I realized how much you mean to me,” Rafe continues. “I want a life with you.”

Without a moment to waste, Sabina grips onto Rafe’s tie and pulls him closer. She presses her lips against his, overwhelmed, but attempting to convey all of her emotions in the act. Sabina moves her hands to rest one against his neck. The other travels to the back of his head, allowing her fingers to clutch onto the short strands of his hair.

He wanted her.

He loved her.

And in this moment, he needed her, with or without the treasure.

Rafe pulls her into his arms, flush against his body. His nails dig into the satin, longing to instead feel the bare flesh beneath the fabric. His kiss is eager, desperate, intense, yet too gentle at the same time. Sabina can sense that he wants to feel more of her and it’s something that she’ll happily give.

December 2015

The sound of splitting wood and crashing debris echoes in the rainforest, originating from Nadine’s last known location. Rafe and a couple of the Shoreline mercenaries were hot on her heels, rushing to get to the Nate before he could slip away again. Trailing behind, Sabina struggles to keep up with the men, but her short legs can only do so much.

“…forget about her! We gotta get out of here before they—”

The man’s voice comes to abrupt stop when Rafe runs out of the ruined buildings of Libertalia and into the open. Rafe raises a gun, pointing it at the men in front of him. The two mercenaries follow suite, also aiming their weapons at the targets.

“Shit. Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the man says, alarmed. “Everybody just… just calm down, okay?”

Nearly gasping for air, Sabina approaches the exit.

“Well, this is interesting,” Rafe says. “Nate. Samuel.”

Sabina halts, frozen by the name. Samuel? Who the hell is—

“Put your guns down!” A new voice yells. “All of you.”

Samuel?

The old sapphire ring on her right hand feels heavy on her finger. For years she hadn’t noticed the jewelry, burying away its significance in her life. Now it was the only thing her buzzing brain could focus on.

“No,” her husband responds.

“Rafe, this guy’s on edge,” Nadine says.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Nadine.” Rafe takes a small step forward. “These guys don’t kill anyone in cold blood. It’s just not their style.”

“You willing to bet her life on that?” One of the men says.

With shaky steps, Sabina steps into the clearing. Her eyes focused on Shoreline’s targets. There, she sees Nate, looking exhausted and worried. He’s covered in dirt, dust, and droplets of sweat. To his left is Nadine: held hostage, gun to her head. And there, holding the gun, is a familiar, but aged, face. The face of a dead man, of a man that she hasn’t seen in fifteen years. A man that she had shed countless tears for, before she had forced herself to lock away her memories of him, to bury him deep, deep in the back of her mind.

“Sam?” The name is whispered through her lips, ignored by everyone.

“Go ahead then,” Rafe says. “Shoot her.”

“Sam,” Nate warns.

“I die, you both die,” Nadine says.

“So be it,” Sam hisses into her ear. “Not another step!”

“You mean… like this?” Rafe takes another step forward.

“Sam, put the gun down!” Nate says.

“I warned you.”

“Do it!” Rafe taunts.

Nadine shouts, “Rafe!”

Just as Sam’s finger begins to press down on the trigger, Nate rushes towards him. He shoves the gun upwards, away from Nadine. 

The sound of a gunshot rings in the air. 

And Nadine uses the opportunity to slam her elbow back into Sam’s stomach, allowing her to slip away from his hold.

“Wait!” Sabina screams, running towards the Drakes.

Nate holds the gun up in the air. “It’s done!”

“Hold your fire!” Rafe turns to yell at the mercenaries, holding up his arms. “Don’t shoot!”

Sabina rushes to Sam’s side. He’s hunched over, stunned from Nadine’s blow. “Oh, my god,” she says. “Sam?”

The man lifts his head to look at her. “Bina? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” She asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Nate, put the gun down,” Rafe says. “Sabina, what are you doing?”

She ignores him.

Nadine picks up the gun. “Don’t worry, Nadine. It’s not their style,” she quotes, walking passed Rafe.

“What can I say?” Rafe replies. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“I don’t understand—I thought—Sam—”

“It’s complicated, but I’m here,” he responds. He lifts his right hand to brush the back of his fingertips against her cheek. “I missed you.”

“Sam—”

“Jesus, will somebody go get her?” Rafe addresses the mercenaries.

The man to Rafe’s right approaches Sabina, gun still trained on Sam. He grabs onto her arm, attempting to pull her away from the older Drake.

“Don’t touch her!” Sam yells. But when the mercenary points the barrel of the gun directly into his face, Sam stops protesting.

Rafe steps forward, approaching the Drakes. “Samuel. You okay?” He reaches forward to brush off some of the dust on the man’s shoulders. “I guess you knew this moment was coming, huh?” Rafe slams his handgun across Sam’s face, knocking him down onto the ground.

“Hey!” Nate says. “C’mon, man. You got us. Take it easy.”

Rafe reaches for Sabina, pulling her away from the mercenary. With a firm grip on her arm, he positions her to stand slightly behind himself.

“C’mon now,” Nate says. “You’re a businessman. Let’s just… work out a deal.”

“Oh, a deal,” Rafe says. “Oh, yeah, I’d love to hear what you have in mind.” He takes a step forward, pulling Sabina with him, and then kicks Sam in the face.

“Rafe!” Sabina snaps.

“Oh, you can go ahead,” Rafe says to Nate. “I’m listening.”

“Alright, just… alright,” Nate leans down to help Sam stand back up. “Look, you wanna find Avery’s treasure? We’ll help you find it.”

“And in exchange, I let you live?”

“Yeah,” Nate hesitates. “That and a small cut.”

Rafe laughs. “The gauchos on this guy.”

“Just enough to get him freedom, okay?”

“His freedom?”

“Nathan—” Sam says.

“Yeah,” Nate interrupts. “He did hard time. Our time. And the guy who broke him out, Hector Alcazar, he owes him a lot of money.”

“Whoa, what the hell are you talking about, Nate?” Rafe says. “Hector Alcazar died in a shootout in Argentina like six months ago. I’m the one that got Samuel out.”

Sabina frowns, confused, and turns her head to look at her husband.

Nate looks over at Sam, before turning his attention back to Rafe. “What?”

“Oh,” a look of realization shines on Rafe’s features. “Wow. What did he tell you? Sam, what kind of story did you cook up? Alcazar? Really? You lied? You lied to your baby brother?”

“We’re wasting time,” Nadine says.

“Just a second,” Rafe responds. “Thing is, Nate, I never stopped looking for Avery’s treasure. I just kept running into these dead ends,” he chuckles, “you know? And then I heard that our dear ol’ Samuel Drake, an authority on Avery—is alive and somewhat well. There was no breakout. I bribed the prison warden and your brother waltzed right out the front gate. He spent the last two years tracking down the second Saint Dismas cross. And you know what? He did it all with me.”

Sabina opens her mouth to speak, “Two years—”

“No,” Nate says.

“Oh, yeah.”

“No, that’s bullshit!”

“Oh, Sam?” Rafe turns his direction towards the man. “Care to refute?”

He sighs. “Nate…”

“Aw, Sam… Ah, Jesus, no, no…”

Sam takes a step closer to his brother. “Listen, Avery’s treasure was ours,” he says. “It was always ours.”

“No!” Nate yells. “I left my life for you!”

“Hey, look, look, Nate,” Rafe says, laughing. “If it’s any consolation, he duped me, too. He pulled a Houdini on me. He brought you and that old man back into the mix. And I cannot lie, Sam, that really pissed me off. But you know… all behind us now.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Sam says.

“You do? Last I checked we’re all a bunch of thieves, digging around where we shouldn’t.”

Nadine approaches the bickering men, “Rafe.”

“What?”

“One way or another, end it,” she says. “Or I will.”

Rafe nods. “Well, you heard the lady,” he says, aiming his gun at Sam.

“Wait,” Sabina says. “Don’t—”

“Hey,” Nate says. “You miss one clue and you can kiss that treasure goodbye. You said it yourself: you keep running into dead ends. Why don’t you face it, Rafe. You need us.”

“Rafe, put the gun down,” Sabina says.

He ignores her, eyes focused on the Drake brothers. “Yeah, you’re right,” Rafe says, lowering the gun. He pauses for a moment, before continuing, “You’re half right. I just need Sam.” Rafe raises the gun again, pointing it at Nate.

Sabina pulls her arm out of Rafe’s grip and rushes forward to stand in front of the Drakes. “Don’t,” she yells.

“Honey,” Rafe sighs. “I need you to step out of the way.”

Sabina shakes her head. She holds her arms out to her sides, as if her small frame could shield the two men. “I can’t do that,” she says.

“Bina,” Sam reaches for her shoulder.

“Don’t even think about touching my wife,” Rafe says, aiming the gun at him.

“Put the gun down!” Sabina says.

“You’re really going to defend them,” her husband scoffs. “You’re picking these two assholes over me, your husband?”

“It’s not about picking sides,” Sabina says. “And why should I side with you anyway? You’ve known Sam has been alive, all of this time? And you didn’t think to tell me? Why? Why would you do that?”

“It’s complicated,” he says.

“Then explain it to me.”

“You talk in your sleep,” Rafe sighs and lowers the gun.

“Okay? So?”

“You say all sorts of things, you know,” Rafe takes a cautious step forward. “You reenact your memories, your nightmares. You relive all of those traumatic moments that you keep buried. You’ve screamed about your parents, screamed about the night of their murder. And you cry about… him,” he says, glancing at Sam. “You regret Panama, regret not pushing harder at looking for an alternative plan. You regret not telling me what he meant to you.”

“I—”

“But one day you stopped,” Rafe says. “I didn’t tell you about Sam because I thought that you had finally finished grieving his death. I didn’t want you to go through that all over again.”

Sabina relaxes her arms. “How dare you make that choice for me,” she says.

“It’s not like he ever bothered to search for you. He didn’t even tell his own brother he was alive,” Rafe says. “What makes you think that he would’ve bothered to see you, Sabina? If he had never betrayed me, we wouldn’t all be here right now. Not like this. You might have gone the rest of your life believing that Sam had died in that prison.”

Sabina swallows a lump in her throat. Her heartbeat is racing, pounding against her chest. She angles her body to look at Sam.

He avoids her gaze, turning his eyes down towards the ground.

An admission of guilt?

Rafe takes another step forward. “I lied to you, I’ll admit that.” He extends a hand in her direction. “But I didn’t do it out of malice. Step away from them, honey. We can find the treasure. We will find the treasure.”

“I don’t care about that,” she says. “You lied to me.”

“I never did it with the intention of hurting you,” Rafe says. “But I promise you that I won’t make that mistake again.”

“How can I trust you?”

"We’re partners, remember? Not just for this treasure, but in life.”

“Please,” Sabina says. “Don’t hurt them.”

“Everything is going to be okay, honey.”

Hesitant, Sabina reaches forward, placing her hand on top of Rafe’s open palm. 

“Bina, don’t,” Sam says.

Rafe steps closer to his wife, pulling her into a tight hug. “That’s my girl,” he says, eyes focused on Sam.

Sabina digs her nails into the back of his shirt and buries her face into his chest.

With one arm wrapped around his wife, Rafe aims his gun at Nate. “Back to business then.”

“Wait,” Sabina tries to pull herself out of his hold, but Rafe’s grip is firm. “You promised—”

“Wait now,” Nate says. “You’re making a mistake, you got—”

“Rafe, don’t!” Sam steps forward, partially blocking Nate. “Rafe, don’t, don’t, listen I—”

Ignoring their pleas, Rafe fires the gun. The shot misses Nate, but hits Sam in his left arm. The impact of the bullet sends him stumbling backwards, causing him to bump into Nate. Less than a moment later, Nate disappears, falling off the edge of the cliff.

“Nathan!” Sam yells.

Rafe turns to look at Nadine and the mercenaries. “Take him,” he orders.

February 2002

A morning glow peaks in through the curtains, illuminating the couple tangled beneath the bedsheets. Sabina whines at the touch of light and hides her face beneath the covers. Beside her, Rafe shifts, awoken by the movement. His hand brushes against Sabina’s naked back, fingers trailing along the curve of her spine.

“Good morning,” he says.

“No,” Sabina mumbles, “go back to sleep.” She buries her face into his chest.

Rafe chuckles. “You know that I’d love to do that.”

“Don’t argue. Just sleep.”

He places a hand on top of the one Sabina is laying on his chest. Rubs his thumb across the tops of her fingers. “But I have business meetings I can’t postpone any further,” he says.

“Give me the handcuffs,” she says. “I’ll chain you to the bed.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe pushes the cover away from her face. “You seem to enjoy wearing them more than I do.”

  “I’m not the one who plans on leaving.”

He cups her cheek and pulls her into a kiss. “If I keep postponing, they’ll walk away completely.”

“Fine,” Sabina pouts.

Rafe recaptures her lips. He grabs onto her hips and coerces her to lay down on her back. When he moves to hover above her, Sabina wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him against her body.

“You know that I love you, right?” Rafe says.

Sabina nods, pulling him in for another kiss.

But he pulls away, choosing instead to look at her flushed cheeks. Rafe smiles and brushes the loose strands of hair away from her face. He rolls off of her and opens the drawer in the beside table.

Sabina sits up in the bed, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Rafe turns back towards her. “Marry me,” he says, holding up a small black velvet box.

She blinks up at him, processing the words that are swimming around in her discombobulated head. “What did you say?”

As he takes a nervous breath, he pulls back the lid of the box. “Will you marry me?”

Sabina’s eyes focus on the object inside, a ring. 

A pear-shaped diamond, set on a sleek white gold band. 

“You want… to marry me?”

“I do,” Rafe frowns. He’s hurt, confused by her response. “I love you. There’s no one in the world I would rather be with.”

Sabina reaches for the box, pulling it out of Rafe’s hand. “But the treasure,” she says, “we haven’t found Avery’s treasure yet. What if we never find it? Would you still want to be with me?”

“Yes,” he responds. “I don’t want to marry the treasure. I want to marry you.”

“Okay,” she whispers. Sabina sniffles, overwhelmed by emotion. But there’s a twinkle in her watering eyes and a small smile on her swollen lips. “Yes,” she says. “Yes!” She throws herself onto Rafe, knocking him down onto the bed, and peppers him with feverish, giddy kisses.

December 2015

The moment Sam had revealed where the treasure was, still on Avery’s ship, Rafe gathered together some of the Shoreline men. Using the distraction, Sabina approaches the mercenary that has been assigned to keep an eye on the Drake brother.

“Jonas, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says.

She tilts her head in Sam’s direction. “If you let me speak with him alone, I’ll wire five thousand dollars into your bank account.”

He pauses, mulling over the offer. “Gotta be honest with ya, I’m not sure if dealing with your husband’s temper is worth that price.”

“Ten thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sure,” Sabina shrugs. “It’s his money anyway.”

“Try to be quick about it, yeah?” Jonas steps out of the way, allowing her to slip inside of the small alcove.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Sam looks up at his guest. His hands are bound, tied tightly with rope. The gunshot wound in his arm is bandaged, but splotches of blood have seeped through the gauze. He sighs, leaning back against the stone wall. “Bina,” he greets.

“Hey, Sam,” she says. She sits down on the floor, away from his reach. “So… I’m not sure on how to go about this discussion. My kind-of-ex-boyfriend coming back from the dead isn’t a scenario that I was ever prepared for.”

“Listen, I—”

“Were you going to tell me?” She interrupts. “Were you ever going to let me know that you were still alive?”

He sighs. “I thought about you, all the time. But I didn’t think that I was ever gonna get out of there. And then, when I did, well, Rafe was the one pulling those strings. Thirteen years had gone by. I figured that you had already moved on.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Sabina admits. “I did get married—”

Sam laughs, a cynical chuckle. “You sure did, huh? Married Rafe. Could’ve picked anyone in the whole world, but you picked him.”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you,” she says. “What was I supposed to do? Dwell on you for the rest of my life? Stay single, alone forever? I thought you were dead. How could you have expected me to wait for someone who wasn’t coming back?”

“You didn’t have to pick him,” Sam mutters.

“I didn’t have to, but I did! I wanted him. And I knew that he wanted me.” Sabina pauses, using the moment to calm herself down. “‘After we find the treasure, run away with me.’ That was your pseudo-proposal, word for word.”

“I remember,” he says.

“When Rafe asked me to marry him, there was no caveat,” she says. “He simply wanted me. It wasn’t all or nothing. I wasn’t part of a package deal.”

Sam frowns. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you were.”

“Sam,” Sabina shakes her head. “If you had never gotten trapped in that prison, if you had made it out of Panama with Rafe and Nate, do you really think that we would still be together?”

“I—I don’t know,” he says. “I’d like to think that we would be.”

“I think you would’ve left me,” Sabina says.

“What? Why would you think that?”

“For two decades, all you’ve thought about is that treasure. You didn’t even tell Nate that you were alive. You kept him in the dark, then you lied to him. If tracking down your brother isn’t one of the first things you do once you’ve gained your freedom, then where am I on that list?”

“Things were complicated.”

“Not nearly as complicated as you pretend them to be,” she says. “You’re just a selfish asshole. You don’t care that you’ve hurt people, betrayed them, let them down.” Sabina sits up on her knees and reaches for the back pocket of her pants. She pulls out a pocket knife and flips it open.

“Hey,” Sam says, doing his best to inch away from her. “Bina, I know you’re upset. But you don’t need to do this.”

She wraps her fingers around his bound hands and pulls him towards her. “I’m such an idiot,” she mutters. Sabina saws her knife through the rope, breaking the binds.

“What—”

“I love Rafe, I do,” she says. “But once, I think I loved you. I cared about you, at least. I might be a bit pissed off at you right now, but I won’t stand by while Rafe holds you captive. Just get out of here.”

Sam holds onto her hands and leans towards her. “Come with me,” he says.

“I can’t,” she whispers.

“You know what kind of man he is,” he says. “You deserve better.”

Sabina shakes her head, frowning. “I’m not sure if you’re much better.” She pulls herself away from him. “None of us are who we used to be. Rafe and I have our problems, but when we work, we work. I won’t deny that things have been a bit strained, lately. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t fix our marriage. I won’t throw all of this away for you. Not anymore.”

Sam nods his head, a grimace on his lips.

“Just so you, I’m glad you’re alive,” Sabina says.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

“I know,” she says. “Okay,” Sabina stands up. “Right. I need you to punch me or something.”

“What?” Sam says, also moving to stand up.

“Well, we need to stage your escape,” she says.

“Can’t I just walk out of here?”

“I paid off the guard. It’ll look suspicious if you disappear after I leave.”

“I’m not going to punch you,” Sam says.

“Just punch me! Then take out the guard.”

“Bina—”

“Sam,” she hisses. “For once in your life, just listen to me. We don’t need to argue about everything.”

“Oh, my god,” he groans. “Why does your plan involve me punching you in the face?”

“What—I never told you to punch my face.”

“Jesus Christ—”

“Is that where you wanted to punch me?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Maybe I should punch you in the fucking face,” Sabina says, taking a step towards him.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Sam says, holding his hands up in front of him. “I’m just saying that—”

“Oi,” a voice interrupts.

Sam and Sabina turn to look at the entrance.

Jonas the Mercenary stands there, gun pointed in Sam’s direction. “What’s going on here? You untie him?”

“Jonas,” Sabina says. Her eyes flicker over to Sam, before focusing again on the mercenary. “Thank god you’re here! Samuel was… threatening me. Said that he would kill me if I didn’t cut the rope.”

“That so?” He takes a few steps forward. “Guess we should tie him back up.”

“Right,” she agrees.

“Go stand by the door,” he says. “I’ll bind him.”

Sabina throws one last glance at Sam, before heading towards the exit. Just as she walks passed the mercenary, she slams her foot into the back of his knee, knocking him off-balance. Sam rushes forward and pulls the assault rifle out of Jonas’ hands. Using the grip of the gun, he slams it across the man’s face, leaving him dazed and gasping on the ground. For good measure, Sam hits the mercenary again, breaking his nose.

“Go,” Sabina says.

Sam looks at her, opens his mouth to tell her something.

“Go! Get out of here.”

“Thank you,” he says. Without another moment to spare, Sam sprints out of the alcove.

Sabina gives him a head start. She waits for thirty seconds, before making her move. Clutching a fake bruise on her side, she stumbles out of the alcove, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Help! I need help! Rafe!”

A couple of mercenaries run towards her. “What’s going on?”

“I—I don’t know,” she says, gasping for air. “It all happened so fast—oh, my god, Jonas—Jonas is in there.”

“Sabina?” Rafe says, running towards her. “Honey, what happened?”

“Sam! He—he escaped!”

He directs his gaze to the mercenaries. “Find him,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Sabina says. “I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t and he—he had a gun. I didn’t know what to do.”

Holding the sides of her face in his hands, Rafe leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, honey. Are you okay? Did he hit you?”

“I got tangled up in the fight,” she says. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good,” he says, nodding. “He’s probably heading for the treasure. We need to go catch up.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“We are so close. We’re practically right there. Just need to beat him to it.” Rafe grabs onto her hand, pulling her along with him.

They rush down the tunnel, heading for where the boats are docked. As they enter the area, Sam is driving away with one of the boats. Rafe drags Sabina towards Nadine, whom is loading up a boat with treasure.

“Sam just stole our goddamn boat,” Rafe says. “He’s headed for Avery’s ship. Come on.”

“Let him,” she says. “We’re done.”

Rafe looks at her, confused. “We’re done?”

“Most of my men are dead, Rafe. And those who aren’t have already left.”

“Can you see that?” Rafe asks, pointing in the direction of Avery’s ship. “The end is literally in sight.”

“That maniac pirate of yours has rigged this entire cave. I’m not setting foot on his ship.”

“Nadine, if you cut and run right now, the loss of all your men—everything that we’ve done—is for nothing.”

Nadine points to the raft on her left. “We have millions in gold, right here. I’d say that, plus our lives, is something.” She steps around Rafe, moving to finish getting the raft ready for departure.

“No wonder so many of your men abandoned you,” Rafe says.

Nadine turns to look at him. “Excuse me?”

Sabina glances at the mercenary standing behind her, alerted by the sound of him adjusting his grip on his gun.

Rafe steps away from her, approaching Nadine. “We’re on the verge of making history here, and you’re willing to just walk off with a pittance, a fraction what Sam’s gonna get from that boat.”

“If he can walk away from that ship alive, he can have it,” Nadine says. “Hell, I’d say he’s earned it. God knows you didn’t.”

A moment of stillness, and then—

Rafe slaps Nadine across her face. “Now look,” he says, following another brief pause. “We can stand here and insult each other all day, or we can finish what it is that we—”

Nadine interrupts him, slamming her fist into his stomach. She shoves Rafe onto the ground and then aims her pistol at him.

“Rafe!” Sabina rushes to his side.

“Oh,” Nadine yells, “we’re finishing it all right—” The sound of a gun being cocked pulls her attention away from the man.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the mercenary says, with his gun aimed at her.

Sabina helps Rafe onto his feet, double checking him for any other injuries.

“Yeah… the thing about mercenaries, Nadine,” he says. “Their loyalty, it’s bought. It’s not earned. Now, come on. Either we finish this thing together, or we can just end it right here.”

Sabina lifts her eyes, meeting her gaze with the other woman. “Just get in the boat, Ms. Ross,” she says. “Please, nobody else needs to die right now.”

Nadine glances down at her weapon, before slowly lowering it. “Let’s go make history,” she says, tucking the gun away.

“Atta girl,” Rafe says, gesturing towards the boat.

When Sabina and Nadine make eye contact once again, Sabina mouths, “I’m so sorry.”

Nadine holds her gaze for a moment, before climbing into the boat.

September 2002

Growing up, she had never imagined what her wedding might look like. She had never pictured her dress, the venue. She had never thought about who would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Getting married had always seemed like an event that would be too extravagant and… depressing. She had no one to walk her down the aisle. No family to invite. Her friendships had always been rather brief, dependent on where she was traveling and if they could help her get what she was looking for.

People kept telling her that her wedding would be one of the happiest days of her life.

Yet, she had never felt so isolated from everyone.

Standing on a raised platform, Sabina stares at her reflection in the large trifold mirror. Her head feels heavy, stuffed full with curled extensions that are pulled up into an intricate bun. Her lace cathedral veil is pinned into place, once again. In her nerves, Sabina has already tugged it out of position five times. The strings of her corset are pulled tight, constricting her ability to breathe. She wants to tear them out, wants a breath of fresh unrestrained air, but it’s too late for that now. Fiddling with her diamond ring, Sabina resists the urge to smooth down the organza fabric of her dress.

When she had first put on the ivory off-the-shoulder ball gown, she had felt like a fool, like she was undeserving of the dress. The fabric was covered in thousands of crystals, each of which were carefully positioned by hand. The crystals were arranged in complex floral designs and placed beneath a layer of organza. This dulled their shine, creating the softer, ethereal sparkling effect that Sabina had wanted. But still, she had felt that this dress was too glamorous.

Upon seeing her, Rafe’s mother had surprised her with tears. Telling her that the dress was perfect, made for her. And in that moment, Sabina had also cried. Was this how her own mother would have reacted? Would she be in agreement with Mrs. Adler? Or would she have longed to see Sabina in a different silhouette? Marrying a different man?

“Miss Hewitt,” the wedding planner’s voice captures her attention. “I don’t want to rush you, but we are behind schedule. Your groom is starting to get a bit nervous.”

“Ten more minutes,” Sabina says.

“Miss Hewitt,” she sighs. “Your guests have already been waiting for an hour.”

Sabina shakes her head. Subconsciously, her fingers grasp onto the edge of her veil. “Just give him ten more minutes,” she says. “He’ll be here.” And once again, the material is pulled out of place.

The woman frowns, giving Sabina a pitying look. “I understand that you want him to walk you down the aisle, Miss Hewitt.” She snaps her fingers at the hair stylist, prompting them to get up and work on resecuring the veil. “However, Mr. Drake didn’t show up for the rehearsal yesterday.”

“Maybe he mixed up the times,” Sabina says. “Or… Or he’s stuck in traffic.” She winces when the stylist stabs her scalp with one of the pins.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think he’s coming.”

The door to the dressing room opens and an older woman steps into the room. With her red lips pulled into the slightest hint of a frown, she asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Mrs. Adler,” the wedding planner greets. “Miss Hewitt has been insisting that we wait for Nathan Drake’s arrival, even though I have told her several times that it is extremely unlikely that he will be in attendance.”

Sabina sighs, closing her eyes. “Just ten more minutes,” she says, before taking a deep breath. “I just want ten more minutes.”

“Miss Hewitt—”

“Give her the ten minutes,” Mrs. Adler says. When her eyes settle on Sabina’s reflection, the sharp contours of her face soften. “I would like a moment of privacy with Sabina.”

Without further instruction, the wedding planner, the hair stylist, and the makeup artist all hurry out of the room. The bridesmaids, dressed in mauve colored chiffon gowns, are quick to follow.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Adler approaches the bride, taking great care to avoid stepping on the much-too-long train of her dress.

Sabina opens her mouth to speak, but the words are caught in her throat. Instead, she rests her hands against her stomach, hoping to appease the stabbing sensations coming from inside.

“A wedding can feel overwhelming,” the woman says. “I was a mess for my own day. In my heart, I knew that I was marrying the right person, but I still had my doubts. I had a bit of a freakout, myself. Locked myself in a bathroom, for half an hour, and debated about the pros and cons of marriage. It’s okay to be nervous, Sabina. Most brides are. But I wonder if there is something else bothering you, something beyond nerves.”

Sabina swallows a lump in her throat.

“Your life has been deprived of a mother figure,” Mrs. Adler continues. “If it’s alright with you, I can be that figure for you. You are family now, my dear. You can talk to me. I will listen.”

“God, there’s just so many people here,” Sabina gasps.

“Rafe was a bit generous with the guest list,” Mrs. Adler agrees. “Is that why you’re upset?”

“To be honest,” Sabina says. “I’ve never put much thought into a wedding. I never imagined that I would be walking into a room full of hundreds of strangers. Everyone is here for Rafe, aren’t they? They’re not here for me. I’m just a show.”

“Tell me why you are here.”

The bride frowns, confused. “To get married.”

“Then you are here for Rafe,” Mrs. Adler says. “Not for your guests. And Rafe, Rafe is here for you. He is waiting at the end of the aisle,” she smiles, “for you. Forget about the people who have come to watch. The truth is that most of them are not really here for Rafe. They are here to keep up appearances, to maintain a good impression. When you reach the end of the aisle, you will forget all about those strangers.”

Sabina turns to look at the woman and gives her a small smile. “Thank you,” she says.

“I have a gift for you,” Mrs. Adler says. She reaches for wrist, unclasping a gold bracelet lined with rubies. “I was planning to give it to you after the ceremony, as a little ‘welcome to the family’ gift, but I think that it would be better for you to have it now.” The woman reaches out for Sabina’s left hand, pulling it towards her, and then secures the jewelry around the wrist.

“It was my mother’s,” Mrs. Adler continues. “She gave it to me on my wedding day. And now I continue that tradition and give it to you.”

“Mrs. Adler—”

“Gemma. Call me Gemma.”

“Thank you, Gemma.”

“I will give you a few minutes to compose yourself,” Gemma says. “Wipe away those tears, yes?”

Sabina nods.

Just moments after Rafe’s mother exits the dressing room, the door reopens.

“Holy shit,” a man says. “Look at you.”

Through the reflection in the mirror, Sabina sees him. She gasps and turns to look at the man, “Sully?”

“Hey, there, kiddo,” he says, approaching her. “You know, I had a feeling you would be a stunning bride, but you’ve exceeded my expectations.”

“It’s the dress,” she replies. “A forty-seven thousand dollar custom made gown.”

“That’s some serious cash,” Sully whistles. 

“This is just the ceremony gown. The reception dress is even more.” Sabina shakes her head. “I can’t even believe I’m wearing something so expensive.”

“You are marrying Rafe. Did you expect anything less?”

“I’m glad you’re here, Sully,” Sabina smiles. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it. I know that you and Rafe are… far from friends.”

“I wouldn’t miss your wedding, kid,” he says. “But what are you still doing back here? Not that I don’t enjoy the sight, but you’re starting to make Rafe sweat out there.”

“I invited Nate,” she says. “God, I even asked him to walk me down the aisle.”

Sully nods, beginning to figure out the problem. “Nate’s not here, is he?”

“I think I always knew that he wouldn’t show,” the bride sighs. “I just wanted to be wrong. I know that he hates Rafe, but I thought that maybe—just maybe—he would show up for me.”

“He’s still coping,” Sully says. “Won’t even mention… Sam… nowadays.”

Sabina hums. “Me, too,” she admits. “Sully, am I crazy? Just two years ago, I was willing to drop everything and run off with Sam. And now I’m here, getting married to somebody else. What if I’m making a mistake? Maybe that’s why Nate’s not here? Maybe he thinks that I’ve forgotten about Sam or that I’m closing off that part of my life.”

“Hey,” Sully steps forward and holds onto Sabina’s hands. “No one blames you for moving on with your life. There’s nothing we can do to change what happened.”

“I know, but—”

“Do you love Rafe?”

“Yes.”

“And does he make you happy?”

Sabina nods.

Sully gives her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay to let go of Sam,” he says. “You deserve a life of happiness, especially after everything that you’ve been through.”

Before she can stop herself, the question spills through her lips. “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

“Of course,” Sully says.

“Thank you,” Sabina wraps her arms around the man’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug.

December 2015

Heat tingles against her skin. 

Prickling. 

Stinging. 

As she breathes, she coughs. Her lungs are stuffed, filled with ashes. When Sabina is finally able to open her eyes, she sees a world of red. She blinks, trying to clear the blurriness of her vision. Sabina groans, rolling onto her back.

She hears a voice yelling for someone… yelling for… Sam?

“Hey, Nate,” a different voice says.

She turns her head to look for the source of the sound. Through the haze, she can see the outline of a man, her husband. In Rafe’s hand is a gun, raised and pointed in front of him.

The first voice replies, “Where is Sam?”

Sabina tilts her head, releases a gasp in pain, and looks at the other man. Nate has his own gunned pointed back at Rafe.

“Oh, he’s right there.” Her husband looks over to his left, where Sam is trapped and unconscious beneath a wooden beam.

“Sam!” Nate calls.

“Relax, he’s alive,” Rafe says. “You know, this idiot nearly got us all killed.”

Oh.

That’s right.

The explosion.

Sam… Sam had caused it, had—

“I’m getting him outta here,” Nate says.

“No, you’re not.”

“Rafe, you can have the treasure, alright? Just let me save my brother.”

Her husband laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “After everything he’s done? How noble of you, but no.”

“We stay here any longer and we’re all dead,” Nate says. “Is that what you want?”

“That’s not what I said. What do you think, Nadine?”

The Shoreline leader steps in through the doorway and descends the short staircase. Her gun is pointed in Nate’s direction.

Sabina pushes her back off of the uneven wooden floor, moving into a sitting position. The back of her head is burning, throbbing. Pressing her fingertips into her hair, she winces when they make contact with an open wound that’s soaked in some sort of liquid. “Fuck,” she whispers. Sabina brings her hand in front of her face, stares at the warm blood coating her finger tips.

“Good to see you up and about,” Rafe says. “Be a dear and relieve Nate there of his gun.”

“Hand it over,” Nadine says, approaching Nate.

“You really think you can trust him? Huh?” Nate says.

“Not your concern.”

Ignoring the trio, Sabina crawls towards the unconscious Drake brother. “Sam,” she calls, shaking his shoulder. She tries to lift up the wooden beam that has him pinned down, but it doesn’t move. “Sam, wake up. Sam?”

“Now, why are you trying to instigate? Nate—” Rafe says, stepping closer to the mercenary. “Nadine and I are partners, I don’t screw over my partners.”

Nadine takes the gun out of Nate’s hand. Slowly, she starts to back away.

“Get over there,” Rafe orders, pointing his gun towards the other end of the room. “You and your brother though… Right from the start, you took advantage of my generosity. You tried to cut me out and it’s high time you learned—”

Nadine presses the barrel of her gun against the back of Rafe’s head.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Now you give me your gun,” she says.

“Sam,” Sabina whispers again. “C’mon, wake up.” She shakes him once more, more aggressive, more insistent. “I need your help.”

Sam’s eyelids twitch, but nothing else moves.

Rafe scoffs, “Nadine.”

She interrupts him with the cock of her gun. “I won’t ask you again.”

The man sighs, then surrenders the gun. “You are being profoundly stupid right now,” Rafe says. He steps away from Nadine and rubs the back of his neck.

“Look over there,” she says, indicating to her right.

“Nadine,” Rafe says, stepping closer to her. “Stop screwing around—”

The mercenary angles her gun down towards the floor, shooting a bullet between his feet.

Sabina screams at the noise, startled.

“Jesus!” Rafe yells.

“I said look!”

“Okay,” he says. Rafe glances over. “It’s a couple of skeletons. So what?”

“I don’t know as much about history as you boys,” Nadine says, “but I’ve got a pretty good idea who those two are.”

“Well,” Rafe says, “enlighten us.”

“It’s Avery and Tew,” Nate explains. “They killed each other.”

Rafe glances over at Nate. “Good for them. What’s the point?”

“Everyone obsessed with this treasure gets what they deserve,” Nadine says. She takes a step back, working her way back up the stairs.

“So what,” Nate calls. “You’re just leaving us here to die?”

“Oh, I’m just leaving,” she responds. “Whether you die or not, I don’t really care.”

“Nadine,” Rafe says. “Don’t.”

The mercenary ignores him, turning her gaze to focus on the other woman. “Sabina,” she says. “If you want to get out of here, come with me.”

“What?” Sabina lifts her head to look at Nadine.

“You don’t need to burn alive with all of these dickheads,” she explains.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Rafe chuckles. “You two have been fighting for weeks—”

“Shut up, Rafe,” Nadine says.

“—and now you wanna be best friends?”

Sabina shakes her head, unsure of what to do. “Nadine, I—”

“Make your choice. Now. I’m going to leave, with or without you.”

“I can’t—I can’t just leave them here,” Sabina says.

“You deserve better than this,” Nadine sighs. “Goodbye, Sabina.”

“Nadine,” Rafe says, moving towards her. “Wait—”

“So long, Rafe,” she says, before pulling the door shut and locking it.

“Nadine! Nadine!” He yells. Rafe slams his fists against the wood. “You open this goddamn door right now!”

“Rafe,” Nate shouts. “She’s gone!” He crouches down next to Sabina, eyes focused on the same wooden beam that she has been struggling to lift. “C’mon, give me a hand. We’ll all get out of here.”

“Oh, no,” Rafe says, pacing around in the corner of the room. “No, that won’t work.”

“I’ve been trying to wake him up,” Sabina looks over at Nate. “But he just hasn’t been responsive.”

“It’s okay,” Nate says, placing a comforting hand on Sabina’s forearm. “C’mon,” he calls to Rafe. “Help me with Sam and I’ll help you open the door.”

Together, Sabina and Nate attempt to life the beam, but struggle with the weight.

“No,” Rafe says.

“Rafe,” Sabina lifts her head to look at her husband. “For god’s sake, just help us.”

He reaches for a sword lodged into one of the skeletons and pulls it out. “I’m not going to be able to enjoy one of these coins, knowing that you and your worthless brother are still sucking air.”

Seeing the sword in Rafe’s hand, Nate stands up and starts to back away. “Alright,” he says. “Just… Just calm down. You can practice your fencing when we get outside.”

“Nate, just shut up,” Rafe says.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sabina says, standing up.

“Seriously, Rafe,” Nate says. “This is insane, even for you.”

“You want to hear insane? Nathan Drake raced a madman and his entire army to the steps of Shambhala.” Rafe takes a step forward and swings his sword at Nate.

“Jesus!” Nate curses, dodging the weapon.

“Nathan Drake found a lost city in the middle of the Rub’ al Khali desert.” Rafe swings the sword again. This time the blade slices through Nate’s shirt, breaking the skin of his chest.

Sabina takes a cautious step forward. “Rafe, please. Put the sword down.”

But the man ignores her, opting to attack Nate once again.

Nate leaps back, barely avoiding the blade. “God damn it—come on, we can get out of here together.”

“Nathan Drake discovered the fabled El Dorado.” Rafe lunges at Nate, swiping the blade twice at the man. With the second swing, the edge of the sword slices across Nate’s chest, leaving behind a new, shallow wound. Again, Rafe attempts to cut into the other man’s skin.

“C’mon Rafe, stop,” Nate says.

“Nathan Drake is a legend,” Rafe laughs. “You know, I shot the man who told me that.”

“Look, I get it. You don’t like me very much.”

“You know, for all your ‘greatness,’ Nate, you have nothing. You are nothing. And I warned you to get out of my way.”

“Stop it!” Sabina screams. She charges into Rafe, shoving him away from Nate. “Rafe, babe, I need you to calm down.”

Rafe hardly spares her a glance, instead moving to step around her.

“Please,” Sabina clutches onto his arm, a poor attempt to hold him back. “Don’t do this.”

He pulls his arm out of her grasp and pushes his wife away from him.

Losing her balance, Sabina stumbles and crashes into a pile of debris near Sam’s body. A jagged piece of metal pierces into the skin of her left arm, leaving her with long gashes. Blood spews out of the wounds, sliding down her flesh and onto the floor. She whimpers, pain pulsating throughout her body.

Eyes focused solely on Nate, Rafe is unaware of what he has caused. He swings the blade at Nate, leaving several more cuts on his chest and arms.

Dodging the sword, Nate grabs onto Rafe’s arm and punches him in the face with his free hand. With both hands firmly gripped onto the arm, Nate struggles to maintain control in the fight. He forces Rafe up against a wall, but Rafe slams his forehead into Nate’s, sending him stumbling backwards.

Rafe seizes the opportunity, pushing his opponent down onto the ground. Fighting against Nate’s resistance, Rafe attempts to shove the blade down into the man’s neck. “I have sacrificed everything to find Avery,” Rafe says. “And I’m not gonna let a couple of two-bit thieves, a senile con man, and a washed-up journalist take that away from me!”

“Enough!” Nate pushes back against Rafe, shoving the man off of him. He reaches to the right and wraps his fingers around the handle of another sword.

“You care about that parade of losers so much,” Rafe says, circling Nate. “I’m going to make sure they join you.”

Sabina presses her hand against the fresh wound, unsure of how to slow the bleeding. “Oh, fuck,” she mutters, “shit.” The liquid seeps through her fingers, mingling with the once drying blood of her head injury.

“En garde, dickhead,” Nate says.

“That’s the spirit,” Rafe smiles.

Nate lunges at him, slamming his sword at the man. The two blades clash against each other and Rafe jumps out of Nate’s reach. When Rafe swings his sword at Nate, the Drake brother rams his elbow into Rafe’s nose and then kicks him in the chest. Rafe stumbles back, hitting the wall behind him. Nate swings again, but this time Rafe kicks the man away from him. He takes a step forward, aiming to slice through Nate’s throat, but Nate blocks him just in time.

Starting to get dizzy, Sabina lays down on the floor. She lifts her wounded arm, forcing herself to take a better look at the cuts. Droplets of blood splatter against her cheeks.

Sabina closes her eyes.

Daddy!

She’s a little girl again, running into the outstretched arms of her father.

Daddy, you’re home!

She wraps her arms around his neck, nearly tackling him down into the ground.

Hey, sweetheart, he says. You should be asleep. He secures his arms around Sabina and lifts her up into the air.

No, she shakes her head. No, I missed you.

I missed you, too. He presses a kiss against her cheek. But you know that Daddy has a lot of work to do.

No, no more work.

Sweetheart—

Why do you always leave? I don’t want you to leave anymore.

Her father sighs. My work is important. I’m going to find something amazing, sweetheart. And when I do, I promise that I won’t ever have to leave you again.

Daddy, please—

Richard Hewitt collapses.

Becomes a bleeding corpse, staining the hardwood floors.

And young Sabina hides beneath the planks, her tiny hands covering her mouth. Eyes are wide, staring at the blood leaking through the cracks, the crevices. 

It splatters against her cheeks.

Why couldn’t you pick me?

“—Bina!”

Somebody is shaking her.

“Bina, open your eyes.”

When they press a hand against her cheek, Sabina leans into the warmth.

“C’mon, baby, wake up.”

She opens her eyes and smiles at the sight of a familiar face. “Sam?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m right here, but I need you to get up, okay? Nathan and Rafe are about to kill each other and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Nate… Rafe?” Sabina blinks at him, unable to fully comprehend the words. “What?”

“Bina—”

She tunes out his voice, focusing her attention to the burning warmth surrounding her. When she turns her head to the left, her eyes grow wide. The muddied thoughts in her head dissipate, cleared by the view in front of her.

Rafe swipes his sword against Nate’s stomach and cuts through the fabric of his shirt. He strikes him in the chest with his foot, knocking him down onto his back. Sword pointed at Nate’s throat, Rafe takes a step forward.

“You know what, Nate? Underneath all the bravado, you’re just a sad little boy with delusions—of grandeur… who, by the way, can’t fence for shit,” he says.

Sabina rolls onto her knees, then stumbles up onto her feet. “Wait—”

Rafe raises his sword, ready to end the fight. “So long, Nathan Drake.”

“Nathan!” Sam yells, attracting the attention of both men. He grabs the handle of the sword laying near him and tosses it in Nate’s direction.

Nate grabs it and strikes the blade across Rafe’s own.

“You don’t know when to give up, do you? That’s good,” Rafe says, between each swing of his sword. “Don’t hand it to me. I’ve had everything handed to me on a goddamn silver platter. Everything except this!”

Nate whips his sword in front of him to block another powerful strike, but Rafe’s blade breaks the metal.

“I earned this,” Rafe says. “All of it.”

September 2012

If you ask Sabina to picture her idea of romantic vacation, this is what she would tell you. A candlelit dinner at a truly exquisite, but probably overpriced, restaurant. Walking through the Paris streets, long after dusk. Sharing bottles of wine between giggling, messy kisses. Falling into a comfortable, happy slumber with the love of her life.

But getting everything that you want is impossible.

And for her tenth wedding anniversary, Sabina spends it without her partner. Drunk in her Parisian hotel room, staring at the blurry lights outside of her windows. Her cheeks are swollen. Eyes are puffy and dirty from smeared mascara and navy blue eyeliner. Brunette hair tangled and pulled up into a lopsided bun.

Rafe was supposed to be here. Was supposed to meet her in Paris over a day ago. But her husband had canceled, saying that an issue at work would require his immediate attention. Saying that he would make it up to her, whisk her away to a private island where no one could bother them.

She almost believes him.

When somebody knocks on the door to the suite, Sabina jumps off of the armchair and stumbles across the room. She throws open the door, and without a moment to pause, wraps her arms around the woman standing there.

Chloe Frazer. A fellow treasure hunter that she had met a couple of years ago. The two had become fast friends, bonding over a discussion about whether the treasure described in The Copper Scroll even existed. And if so, where it could possibly be.

“Oh,” the Australian woman says. “I’m happy to see you, too, love.”

Sabina’s words are slurred. “Chloe, I’m so… so happy you’re here.”

“C’mon, let’s get out of the hallway.” Careful, Chloe urges Sabina back through the door. Glancing around the hotel room, she sees shards of broken glass and puddles of red wine. Several partially consumed bottles lay flat on their sides, a source for many of the wine stains.

Sabina grabs onto one of Chloe’s hands and drags her to the dining table. “You must try this Caber… net Sau… Sauvig… non—Cabernet Sauvignon!” She picks up a bottle of wine and hands the whole thing to Chloe. “I must warn you, it’s very… very heavy on the cherry, but it is so good and… six hundred dollars?” Sabina laughs, “Wine is so expensive.”

Chloe grabs the bottle, notices that it is almost empty, and takes a sip. “Not bad,” she hums. “And how many bottles did you buy?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “A few. Maybe… ten.”

Mid-sip, Chloe chokes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sabina continues. “It’s all Rafe’s fucking money anyway. He won’t even notice.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, if I were you.”

Sabina picks up another bottle of wine and collapses onto the sofa. “I think he’s going to leave me,” she says.

Chloe frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“I think I’ve done something terrible.”

“Alright,” Chloe joins the woman on the couch. “Tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

Sabina unclasps the chain around her neck and hands her medallion over to Chloe. “I solved it,” she says.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “You… solved this?”

“Yes.”

“The mystery puzzle that you’ve been trying to solve for decades?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Chloe takes another sip of wine. “I’m not sure how this is bad news, but we can come back to that. First, I wanna know how you solved it.”

“Right,” Sabina nods. She takes back the medallion and stands up.

The two women enter the bathroom, where Sabina tosses the medallion into the sink and then closes the drain. She downs a large gulp of wine, before pouring the rest of the contents into the sink.

After a couple of minutes, a dim light appears, glowing from the object. The wine in the sink moves in gentle waves, the liquid disturbed by something beneath the surface. Once the wine settles, Sabina reaches into the sink, retrieves the medallion, and sets it on the counter.

The object looks distorted, with portions of the gold metal jutting out of place. Many, but not all, of the symbols glow in a faint yellow color. The marking in the center, Avery’s sigil, is popped up and pushed away, revealing an inscription.

The treasure you seek will only bring death.

“How the hell did you figure that out?”

“I don’t… I don’t think it’s a clue,” Sabina says.

Chloe picks up on the woman’s train of thought. “You think it’s a warning.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you told Rafe?”

Sabina leans against the bathroom wall and slides down to sit on the ground. “No,” she says, with a sigh.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Chloe says. She grabs the medallion, before joining Sabina. “Why not?”

“I think he’ll leave me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I want him to stop looking for it. I want him to let go of Avery’s treasure,” Sabina says. “If the warning is true, then I don’t want him to find it.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

Sabina chuckles. “How do you tell someone to give up on the one goal that drives them to keep going every day? How do you tell them that you’re selfish and you need them to sacrifice their dream?”

Chloe sighs. “I don’t know,” she says.

“You know, I think I was in love with someone,” Sabina admits. “Before Rafe.”

“Oh?” Chloe turns to look at her.

“It was complicated,” Sabina pauses. She pushes strands of hair away from her face and blinks away the forming tears. “And I never really figured out my feelings.”

“Do you miss them?”

Sabina leans over to rest her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “He was also looking for Avery’s treasure,” she says. She takes the bottle of wine away from Chloe and drinks the remaining liquid. “It killed him. All he wanted wanted to do was find that treasure. Would’ve done anything for it. It’s strange, isn’t it? How all of the men in my life are obsessed with this stupid thing. I don’t think the question is if Rafe will die for this treasure. I think the question is when. When will Rafe join Sam and my father?”

“Tell him how you feel,” Chloe reaches forward, laying a comforting hand on Sabina’s knee. “He can’t read your mind.”

“What if he doesn’t want to listen?”

“Trying to force a man like Rafe to listen is probably impossible,” Chloe admits. “But if he really does love you, he will do so.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Sabina lifts her head to meet Chloe’s gaze. “If doesn’t love me?”

“Then maybe it’s time for you to move on, love.”

December 2015

Sabina slams her body into Rafe’s back. She wraps her arms around him, digging her nails into his chest. “No more,” she says, “let it go.” Rafe tries to pry one of her arms off of him, but Sabina tightens her grip. “I said stop!”

“No,” Rafe says. “I’m ending this. I’m taking what’s mine.”

“If you kill him,” Sabina takes a shallow breath. She still feels the wounds throbbing on her arm. Can still feel the blood oozing from the split skin, staining Rafe’s already dirtied shirt. “I will never forgive you.”

It’s subtle, but Rafe tenses at her words.

“If you kill him for this treasure,” Sabina continues, “then I will leave and you will never see me again.”

“Sabina—”

She buries her face into his back. “All of my life, I have never been enough. My father… Sam… they both picked the treasure. They both chose to leave me, no matter how much I begged them not to. And now you’re doing the same thing. But this time you found the treasure. It’s here—it’s in your grasp—and it’s still not enough for you. No, you can’t just have the treasure, can you? You want it all to yourself. All of the credit, the glory.”

“What are you talking about?” Rafe says. “This is ours. We worked for this."

“No,” Sabina shakes her head. “This is your moment, not ours. It stopped being ours years ago. You can’t have it all, Rafe. You can’t have me and the treasure, not like this. I love you, I do, but I can’t do this. I can’t stand by and watch you be consumed by your hatred and jealousy.”

Slowly, he lowers the blade.

“I want you to pick me,” she says. “For once in my life, I want somebody to choose me. Only me. Please, I don’t want to lose you. Don’t make me lose you. Don’t let me lose somebody else I love.”

Rafe releases his grip on the sword, dropping the blade. He reaches for her injured arm and, gently, pulls it away from his chest. A frown on his face, he examines the wound before turning around to look at her.

Sabina blinks up at him, relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Slightly dizzy, Sabina leans into his body, pressing her forehead into the croak of his neck. “I know,” she says. “I know.” Too weak to stand any longer, she fully collapses into Rafe.

“Hey,” Rafe says, grabbing onto her. “Hey, honey? Honey, you okay?”

“I—”

Her words are interrupted by an explosion.

And within moments, the burning room is flooded with water.

…

The world is warm, comfortable. A light breeze tickles her nose and cheeks. In the distance, a woman laughs and children giggle. Sabina opens her eyes to the view of sunlight beaming at her through an open window. Her eyes shift, just a sliver, over to the left.

Sam is sitting there, slightly hunched over in his chair. His eyes are focused down towards his hands, down at a ring held between his fingers.

The ring he had given her.

“Hey,” Sabina says. It barely comes out as a whisper.

Sam jerks his head up. “Bina?”

She blinks, beginning the process of waking up. And that’s when she realizes that this environment is unfamiliar to her. She’s surrounded by plain, white walls. And the smell of sanitizer fills her nostrils. “Where… where am I? Where’s Rafe?”

When she tries to sit up in the bed, Sam jumps out of his chair and places his hands on her stomach and shoulder. “You’re in the hospital,” he says. “Rafe had to step out, handle some of your paperwork, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Wait,” Sabina says. “Are you okay? Is Nate okay? The—the explosion—oh, my god—”

“Everyone is fine, Bina. Just lay down.”

“But—”

“Lay down,” Sam says.

Sabina nods and relaxes back into the bed.

After taking a few deep breathes to calm her racing heart, she turns to look at Sam. “My ring,” she points at the object that’s still in his hands. “What…”

Sam sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you would still have it,” he says. He leans forward, placing the ring on the bedside table. “Not after all of these years.”

“It was all I had left of you,” Sabina confesses. “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.”

Sam gives her a small smile.

“Besides,” she says, “it looks like you stole my birds."

He squints his eyes, confused. “What?”

The woman lifts her hand off the bed, pointing a finger at the birds tattooed on the left side of Sam’s neck.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles. A faint blush sprouts across his cheeks. “Yeah… Got it in prison. I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again—I just—I thought it would be nice to have.”

“Nice to have, huh?”

“Your husband wasn’t too thrilled when he put the dots together.” Sam leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “You know, matching tats and all. Wouldn’t shut up about how he’s married to you.”

“That sounds like Rafe,” Sabina laughs.

“Still can’t believe you’re an Adler now,” Sam says.

“Hewitt-Adler, actually. I hyphenated. Couldn’t quite let go of the family name, I suppose.”

Sam hums. “A lot changed when I was away.”

“Yeah,” Sabina agrees. “Things are different now.”

“Did you mean what you said at Libertalia?” Sam asks. “About us only being together because of Avery’s treasure?”

“Sam,” she whispers.

“Do you really believe that I would’ve just left you if we never found that treasure? Did you think that I didn’t love you?”

“Our relationship was… Everything happened so fast. It really was a bit of whirl-wind romance, wasn’t it?” Sabina says. “One day, I’m following a strange man into the dirtiest hotel room that I have ever seen. And then, with the blink of an eye, I’m having secret rendezvous with him whenever we can find an excuse to ditch his brother. Between chasing clues and traveling the world, where was the time for me to realize your feelings? How could I have known that you loved me? When you never told me those words? When it was clear that your priority would always be the treasure? I couldn’t compete with that, Sam.”

“Bina—”

“The answer,” she interrupts, “it was going to be yes. Yes, I would run away with you.”

Sam reaches out to hold Sabina’s hand. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Bina.”

“Answer me honestly, Sam,” she says. “Back on Avery’s ship, if you had been in Rafe’s place, would you have picked me?”

“Of course,” he responds, without hesitation. “Of course I would choose you.”

Sabina smiles at him, but her eyes are sad.

Longing to know what life would have looked like, had she been able to spend the past fifteen years with Sam.

“You have to let go,” she says. “The girl you love, it’s not the same person that I am now. You care about Sabina from fifteen years ago. The Sabina that… loved a life of adventure, with you. I think, if you had asked, she would have done anything for you. But the person you’re looking at now, she’s already let you go. I don’t know if I could love you again, not the way I used to, not the way you want me to.”

Sam sighs, “I know.”

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand. “We found the treasure, though. At least we accomplished something, even if it took a decade and a half.” Sabina turns her head to look at the beside table, focusing her gaze on the medallion. “I solved it, you know.”

“Really?” Sam raises an eyebrow and picks up the necklace. “When?”

“A few years ago.”

“What did it tell you?”

“Why don’t you keep it,” Sabina says. “Keep it and figure it out for yourself.”

“Are you sure? You parents—”

“Probably never even found it, if we’re being honest. I bet they stole it from someone. We’re all thieves, aren’t we?” She chuckles. “I’ve carried it around for so long, clutching onto terrible memories. I need to move on with my life. I don’t care what you end up doing with it, but please, just take it. I don’t want it, not anymore.”

Sam nods and slips the object into his pocket. “You gonna give me a hint on how to solve it?”

“You’re going to want a lot of red wine."

The door to the room slides open, startling them.

“Get away from her,” a voice growls.

Sam jumps away from Sabina, hands held up in the air. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Jesus, we were just having a conversation.”

“Rafe,” Sabina smiles and attempts to sit up.

“Hey there, honey,” he walks up to the side of her bed and reaches for her hand. Rafe turns his head to look at Sam. “You can go now.”

“Are you kidding me? She just woke up.”

“Yeah,” Rafe says, “and now that she’s awake, we don’t need you here.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Get out,” Rafe snaps.

“Alright,” Sam responds. “I’ll just… go outside for a smoke.”

When Sam exits the room, Rafe directs his attention back to Sabina. “You feeling okay? Does anything hurt?”

“You picked me,” she says, ignoring his questions. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“I told you that I wanted to be with you, didn’t I?” Rafe says. “That hasn’t changed. I realize now that I’ve neglected you, but I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough for me.”

“You’re not entirely to blame. I should’ve just told you how I felt.” Her breath hitches, and she whispers, “Maybe all of this could have been avoided.”

Rafe shakes his head. “I’m not sure if I would have listened to you at any other moment.”

“But in the end, you listened. And right now, that’s all that matters,” Sabina smiles.

Her husband sits down on the edge of the hospital bed. “Where do we go from here?” Rafe asks, pushing strands of hair away from Sabina’s face.

She hums, enjoying his touch. “Do you remember our wedding day? How we hid in the dressing room’s bathroom during the reception?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “You said you were so tired of talking to an endless parade of strangers.”

“They were all so boring,” she says. “And all they did was congratulate us, before trying to impress you with some bullshit story about their life. I remember being so desperate to get out of that dress.”

“God, I remember all the damn buttons on the back.”

“It took you forever to undo them! I thought I was going to be stuck in that thing for the rest of my life,” Sabina laughs. “It was a very pretty dress, though. A mermaid style. Lots of lace. Oh! And the detachable train. I think I liked it more than the dress I wore for the actual ceremony.”

“I was too busy looking at you,” Rafe admits. “I can’t really remember what the dresses look like anymore.”

“Oh, my god. And your mother!” Sabina exclaims, remembering the night. “Do you remember how we were in the bathroom for so long that she ran around trying to track us down?”

Rafe laughs, “And she almost walked in, right as I got the dress off.”

“I had to throw my body against the door to keep it shut. Told her that I just needed a few minutes to myself. And then she asked if I had seen you—”

“—And you told her that I was probably out in the gardens.”

“We escaped through a window, didn’t we?”

“Did we?”

“I think so,” she says. “When your mother left, we walked out of the bathroom. I told you that I wanted to leave, start the honeymoon a little early, so you pulled a robe off of one of the chairs.”

“And then we climbed through the window,” Rafe says, nodding his head. “And we sprinted to the car.”

“I don’t think your mother ever really forgave me for that.”

“I think she was more upset with me, to be honest.”

“We need to work on our marriage,” Sabina says. “No more lying. No more secrets. We need to be open, to communicate, like we used it. We used to have so much fun, didn’t we, babe? I think we can be those people again.”

“I think so, too,” he agrees.

“But first,” Sabina grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her. Brushing her lips against his, she says, “Let’s go back to Copenhagen. Relive those honeymoon memories.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Rafe whispers.

a/n: thank you so much for reading this! if you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging this story. i am a very small fanfic author and every reblog really does help in giving me exposure to potential new readers. however, i do also appreciate any likes or comments you’re willing to give.

again, this is not the end of the road for sabina, rafe, or sam! i have one-shots planned in the future, but currently there is no timeframe for when any of them will be posted. you may want to consider bookmarking the masterlist (linked near the beginning of this post), so you can check back in the future.

Twitter: VostaraFics

Ao3: Vostara

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 24

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Halloween chapter, part 2.

A/N: Yay, an update! I think some of you are gonna be happy about the characters that are being introduced in this chapter... Also lots of Caleo dorkiness (and canon references) in it! And you'll get to see if you were right with your costume guesses :D

Also like I already mentioned last week, this is the last chapter that I have written so far (when I started posting this fic I tried to make sure I'd have at least 7 chapters ready so I wouldn't have to stress about deadlines... and here we are now) so it is possible that updates may slow down a bit, at least if the chapter wants to become long. But I am still /trying/ to keep up with the regular updates the best I can :) So worry not!

Now, enjoy and let me know what you think!! Ps. somehow we’ve managed to pass 50k words already :O

Words: 4040

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

“Hi, you guys!” Piper, who was dressed as Wonder Woman, greeted Leo and Calypso first when they arrived, gesturing for them to come in.

“Hello! I was afraid Argo II had decided to stop working because you guys are late,” Jason the Superman noted as he offered to take Calypso’s coat and put it in a hanger by the door.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jason, that possibility did cross my mind as well,” Calypso said, casting Leo a meaningful look. “But no, not this time.”

“We’re only 10 minutes late!” Leo protested, checking the time from his phone. “I was busy finishing something… and Calypso took her time preparing herself as well. She probably did her wig for like two hours.” He gave her a not so serious side-eye.

“I did not!” Calypso said defensively. “Yeah, I straightened and combed and braided it but that took me maybe 15-20 minutes so he is highly exaggerating.”

“Don’t worry, Calypso, we know he does that a lot.” Piper smiled at her reassuringly. “Speaking of your wig, though, you look very cute! That hair reminds me of the style you had before my makeover. You’re dressed as the mythology Calypso, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Calypso said, pleased that Piper had figured that out so fast. “I thought it would be fun to be a bit self ironic for once. I haven’t really had a good reason to sew recently so this was a nice excuse to do that as well.” She made a small twirl to show the dress better.

“That dress really looks great!” Piper told her. “I would gladly commission you to sew me clothes; it’s so hard to find anything nice from the clothes stores these days. But Leo.” She turned back to him. “I see someone hasn’t bothered to get a costume. I wasn’t expecting that from you because you’re always so excited about them.”

“No, you got it all wrong.” Leo wagged his finger at her. “I do have it here, but as I told Cal, it would have been too difficult to wear in the car.” He dropped his bag on the floor, causing a loud thud as it hit the ground.

“Alright. Care to give us any hint what it is?” Piper asked curiously. “Seems heavy.” Calypso wondered if this was something they did every year.

“I’m just saying that it’s inspired by some movies that united us three,” Leo noted mysteriously. “But that’s all, you’ll see soon!”

“My mind is blank now,” Piper said. “Jason, what movies have we watched with him?”

“The first one that comes to my mind is Star Wars,” Jason reminded her. Suddenly both Jason and Piper’s eyes widened in realization. “Could it be?”

“Oh no, Leo you didn’t!” Piper doubled over in laughter when it occurred to her what Leo’s costume most likely was. “I can’t wait to see this!”

“I hope you took pictures with Festus!” Jason couldn’t keep his poker face either, and Calypso watched their reactions with confusion.

“Don’t worry, I will show them later.” Leo grinned, unperplexed by Jason and Piper’s laughter. “Now, where can I change?”

Piper showed him an empty room where he could get into his costume in peace, while Calypso started looking around the house on her own. Even though the place seemed rather fancy, Jason and Piper had managed to make it cozier with their personal objects. A lot of them had seen life and were worn but somehow they still fit in with the newer decorations.

As Calypso reached the living room, her focus went to the guests who had already arrived at the party. She waved at Annabeth and nodded awkwardly to Percy. Even though she and Annabeth were friends again, she wasn’t quite sure how she should act near Percy so ‘reserved’ felt the most natural reaction. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, though, when she registered their costumes: Annabeth had a Chiton just like her, although grey instead of white, with some silvery accessories and a beautiful owl shaped brooch over her chest. Perhaps the most impressive part of her costume was the Greek styled helmet that was used in battles and that hid most of Annabeth’s curly ponytail. Calypso was quite certain she was dressed as Athena, the Greek goddess that according to her was the one she identified herself the most with. Percy on the other hand was wearing sandals, shorts, a tropical shirt, and a belt with fishing equipment and he was holding a fishing rod in his hand. Calypso couldn’t quite figure out who he was supposed to be, other than some sort of fisherman.

“Hi,” Calypso greeted them as she got to hearing distance with them. “You guys look nice. You’re Athena, right?” She asked Annabeth. “Matches my theme, don’t you think?”

“Sure does,” Annabeth nodded, eyeing Calypso’s costume. “You look pretty much exactly like how I imagine the mythology Calypso.”

“Thank you. Coming from you it’s a big compliment.” She turned Percy. “I can’t figure out who you are, though. You don’t seem like a Greek god?”

“I am, though,” Percy replied. “I’m Poseidon.”

“Ooh, so that’s why the fishing gear!” Calypso realized. “But I don’t think the Greeks had tropical shirts quite yet.”

“No, you’re right in that.” Percy shook his head, smiling a bit. “But I’m basing this on the version in the Peter Johnson series. That’s how he was described in it.”

“I didn’t know you have read that too,” Calypso said, “But makes sense. Um, the Poseidon and Athena of the mythology hated each other, though. Not that it’s really my business, but I hope you two are doing fine…?” She asked a bit nervously, not wanting to be the reason for their issues.

“Oh yeah, we are,” Percy confirmed immediately. “It’s just an old joke – back when Annabeth and I were reading the Peter Johnson books I used to say Poseidon is my godly parent and Athena Annabeth’s, and that just kind of stuck with us.”

“Alright.” Calypso accepted Percy’s answer, turning her attention back to Annabeth. “By the way, where did you get that helmet? It definitely looks fancier than most of the plastic ones you see at costume shops.”

“My father collects these things,” Annabeth answered, lifting the helmet from her head for a moment. “I’ve told you he’s also a historian, right? Well, one of his friends wanted to make a replica of the ancient Greek helmets with some modern machines and dad bought this from him. I’m not saying this is 100 per cent accurate but it looks pretty cool, in my opinion.”

“It does,” Calypso confirmed.

“You came with Leo, right?” Percy asked then, to which Calypso nodded. “Where is he? I can’t wait to see his costume; he usually goes for something that is way over the top. Last year he was Hiccup from How to Train your Dragon and he had made a Toothless costume for his dog. I’ve also seen pics of him as Iron Man. Yes, with a full iron costume.”

“I can believe that of him,” Calypso chuckled, imagining Leo in the said costume. “He just went to change into his costume because apparently he couldn’t drive in it. He didn’t reveal what he was going to be, but it does sound like something extravagant.”

“I missed his costume last year but I’ll be sure to have a camera ready when he shows up this time,” Annabeth said happily. Calypso was relieved that the conversation was going this well; she hadn’t known what to expect beforehand because this was the first time she was in the same room with Percy since the ‘incident’. Talking with him now, though, made her realize that holding a grudge wouldn’t be smart and he seemed to think the same way.

“I just realized,” Calypso decided to change the topic, “that I’ve never heard the story of how you guys know Jason and Piper. So how did that happen?”

“It’s a funny story,” Percy started, smiling at the memory. “Jason and I used to be the captains of rivaling soccer teams when we were around 16. Well, one time Jason’s team was visiting us but we were playing in an arena that had just been renovated so I hadn’t been there before. I may have been a bit late from our team meeting and I was a bit lost so I decided to ask one staff lady where I was supposed to go. Somehow she got our teams mixed up and I ended up in the locker room of Jason’s team. Some of Jason’s teammates said that my expression was worth seeing when I realized the mistake but I dunno about that. The funny thing was that somehow the same thing had happened to Jason; he had also been late for the meeting because of traffic or something and he had gotten into my team’s locker room. Well, after the game we had a good laugh about it together and ended up talking about other stuff as well and noticed we have a lot in common. That’s how we became friends. When we moved into the same town, we started training together at least a few times a week.”

“Piper and I didn’t learn to know each other until Jason and she started dating a couple of years ago and they invited Percy to some party where I went with him. To be honest, I was a bit suspicious about her at first because we seemed very different but eventually we learned to respect each other’s qualities. And here we are,” Annabeth added.

“Those are some cool stories,” Calypso said. “It seems like a funny coincidence that somehow we all ended up in this city even though most of us are from somewhere else. Like Leo is from Texas, I am from Greece…” “Speaking of him,” Annabeth had to muffle his laughter with her hand, “I believe we are finally getting some answers about his costume.”

“Oh… my gods” was all Calypso could say when she turned to the direction Annabeth was looking at. “You’re really something else.”

Leo was completely hidden inside his costume, but Calypso could practically hear him grinning at their reactions. The costume looked very much like in the movies; golden (just painted, not real gold, because there was no way Leo could afford something like that) plating forming a droid with big round eyes and an ability to speak lots and lots of different languages: C-3PO from Star Wars.

“Holy shit, dude, that looks so real.” Percy gaped at Leo. “I’m starting to understand why you spent so much time in your room the past few weeks.”

“Why C-3PO, though?” Calypso asked once she managed to put her poker face back on. “Does that have some story behind it?”

“Because, duh, it looks cool!” Leo exclaimed with a mechanical voice from inside his costume. “I dunno, ever since I first saw C-3PO as a kid I thought it would be cool to be able to build something like that. And hey, his ability to translate like all the possible languages is pretty neat. Me? I just know 3.”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable in there, though?” Calypso asked. “That thing must be heavy.”

“Sunshine, I’m always uncomfortable. But this was a childhood dream of mine so I sure as heck am not backing off now,” Leo said with determination.

“A stubborn one, aren’t you?” Calypso stated. “Even I have to admit, though, that you have certainly done some thorough job with it. Hey, I should take photos before I forget! You don’t get to see this every day.”

The others dug their phones up as well and for a while Leo just made silly poses while they took pictures, clearly enjoying the attention his costume got. Eventually he started demanding that Calypso should join him for the photos but she was a bit hesitant at first.

Leo argued: “Come on. Greek mythology meets Star Wars? You don’t see a crossover like that every day.”

“Can’t argue with that, I suppose,” Calypso said and went next to him. “Well, do we have some kind of story for Calypso and C-3PO’s meeting?” she asked as Percy and Annabeth waved at them to look at the camera.

Leo considered her question for a moment. “Oh, how about this? C-3PO somehow ends up on Calypso’s island - because duh, Calypso is cursed so she can’t leave the island…”

“You seem to know surprisingly much about Greek mythology, just saying…” Calypso noted while trying to smile for the photos, resting her hand on the metallic shoulder.

“I told ya, Sunshine, you can blame tía Callida for that…” Leo reminded her. “Anyway, I imagine those two don’t really like each other at first because they’re so different but eventually they learn to respect each other’s skills; C-3PO can translate basically any language and Calypso is good at all kinds of handiworks, which is hard for a droid.”

“And? What happens after that?” Calypso asked curiously.

Leo considered it for a moment. “C-3PO doesn’t really wanna leave Calypso’s island but he has galaxies to save with his friend R2-D2 so he has to go but he promises to come get her afterwards.”

“Aw, Leo, that is kind of sweet,” Calypso commented, suddenly aware of the metal arm that had snuck around her waist. “Does he… does he ever return, though? Shouldn’t that be impossible?”

“For a human, maybe, but he’s a droid,” Leo noted. “Unfortunately during a big battle he blows up badly but the ever so faithful R2-D2 collects the pieces and finds someone who can rebuild him again. And boom, he makes it back and lives happily ever after with his goddess.”

“What’s the term you use when you enjoy a fictional relationship a lot?” Calypso asked. “Shipping?” Annabeth nodded at her. “I don’t know, Leo, to me it sounds like you ship those two. Isn’t that a bit weird?” “What, why would that be weird? I’ve seen people ship…”

“I see these two have gotten into a full on nerd mode again,” Annabeth said quietly to Percy while they were waiting for the flatmates to stop their bickering so they’d be able to take the photos. “Not projecting themselves into their characters, right?”

“No, definitely not,” Percy agreed.

Eventually Leo and Calypso stopped bickering and Annabeth was able to take the pictures. Even if Leo was mostly hidden by his costume, Calypso felt a bit self conscious about the fact that these were the first photos of them together. They did a few goofy poses because Annabeth and Percy told them to, but Calypso thought she probably looked more embarrassed than funny in them.

Once they were done, Leo went to Annabeth who was going through the photos and bowed his head a bit to see them better. “Hey, these do look pretty cool! It’s probably just the lighting but here you look like you’re blushing to some funny comment C-3PO made.”

“Show me!” Calypso yelped nervously and took the phone from Annabeth. When she saw it, she could immediately tell Leo was not wrong; she really was blushing. “Yeah, it’s definitely those candles in the background that do it… And I think it’s pretty warm in here, maybe all the people here heat this room…”

“OK, if you say so,” Leo said but Calypso imagined that he was looking at her suspiciously through his costume.

Trying to get the others’ attention to something else, she said: “So, who else has arrived so far?”

“Nico and Will. I think they went to get some snacks from the dining room,” Piper, who had just entered the room, answered.

“Leo told me that Nico is Jason’s relative, but what about Will?” Calypso asked her.

“Will is Nico’s boyfriend. This is the first time we’re meeting him but they seem very good together. At least he seems to have a grounding effect on Nico, and he actually listens to him, unlike most of us. Um, sorry, it’s a long story, one that I should probably save for another time. Nico may be a bit hard to approach sometimes but he is a very nice guy when you learn to know him. Just… been through a lot. I guess like many of us here. But he seems way happier now,” Piper said, and as if on cue, they could hear some distant laughter coming from the dining room.

“We should start a traumatized college kids’ club,” Leo attempted to joke, and the others hummed in agreement. Maybe she did belong to this group after all, Calypso thought. If only they knew, though…

“This just got cheerful,” Percy said, interrupting Calypso’s thought process. “Who’s up for blue candies? Get them before Will and Nico eat them all.”

“I heard that, Jackson!” Nico entered the room without a warning. “No offense to you or your mom but blue candies aren’t exactly my thing.”

“Hi, Nico,” Percy greeted him, seeming a bit flustered after Nico’s comment. “You haven’t met Calypso, right?” He pointed at her.

“No, I haven’t,” Nico took a quick look at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, in that case, this is Calypso Astal. And Calypso, this is Nico di Angelo,” Percy introduced them to each other.

“Nice to meet you,” Calypso approached him, but he seemed to evaluate her for a moment before he took her hand.

“Likewise,” Nico said finally. “I think Jason has mentioned you a few times.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Calypso said a bit unsurely, like every time she met a new person. The lonely years still had a toll on her, and even though she liked spending time with her friends, meeting new people was always a bit nerve wracking to her. “You’re his relative, right?”

“A distant cousin,” Nico answered. “Yeah, our fathers are related, but I have my mother’s last name and Jason has his.”

“I take it your mother has roots elsewhere, based on the last name?” Calypso asked.

“She was Italian,” Nico shrugged. “I lived there my first years too. But now I can barely remember those times.”

Calypso noticed the use of past tense, but she thought it was probably better to not ask about that in the middle of a party. “Oh. I’ve been to Italy a few times. I’m originally from Greece.”

“What brought you here, then?” Nico asked.

“Dad’s work,” Calypso responded in a tone that told everyone she wouldn’t elaborate on that topic more. It seemed to have become a habit to her.

“Anyway,” Leo, who had managed to stay quiet for a surprisingly long amount of time in Calypso’s opinion, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Nico, a little bird told me,” he looked at Jason, “that your boyfriend is a Star Wars geek. Is that true?”

Nico took one look at Leo’s costume and his mouth twitched when he realized why Leo was asking. “He is, but don’t let him get started on it, or else he will never stop. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend, I prefer calling him…”

“A significant nuisance?” Will showed up from the dining room, carrying a plate full of food. “Don’t mind him, he just warms up a bit slow.”

“Yes, this is Will,” Nico sighed, addressing those who hadn’t met them before. “Sometimes he’s a nuisance, sometimes he can be quite OK. When he’s having a good day.”

“Same back at you, dear,” Will laughed. “Did I hear someone mention Star Wars, though?”

“You did,” Leo said, stepping forward so Will could see his costume better. Needless to say, Will looked beyond thrilled.

“Oh boy, here we go again,” Nico said quietly before Will even had time to comment on the costume.

“Woah, that must be the best C-3PO costume I’ve seen. And yeah, I’ve seen a few so I don’t compliment you for nothing,” Will assured.

“Thanks, man, I did spend quite a while with it,” Leo said, high fiving Will. “Glad someone here appreciates good things.”

“I still hope you’re not one of those fans who have only seen the most recent movies and not the originals,” Will noted.

“Heck, no!” Leo exclaimed immediately. “The original three for the win! Mom and I used to watch them a lot… um, when I was little. She was a big fan. But the newer ones just don’t feel the same.” Calypso had a feeling Leo had almost said something else, but he had changed his phrasing at the last moment.

“You have a pretty good taste,” Will said approvingly. Then he finally realized he hadn’t even asked Leo and Calypso’s names before getting into the geek mode.

“So, who are you two? I already met Percy and Annabeth earlier but I don’t think I know you guys yet.”

“I’m Leo Valdez, and this is my, um, flatmate, Calypso Astal,” Leo introduced. Calypso hoped there was a better word to describe their relationship than a ‘flatmate’ but at the moment it was probably the best and the safest option there was.

“Flatmates, huh?” Will repeated. “How did that happen?”

“I was in a hurry to find a roof over my head so I put in the application that I also accept mixed flats,” Calypso replied. “I didn’t meet Leo beforehand because, um, that would have been a bit difficult to arrange in this case, but it worked out OK.” Calypso noticed Leo was looking at her from the corner of his eye, and she realized she had never even talked about that option before. The truth was that she had had to plan her leaving very thoroughly so her father wouldn’t notice and she had driven to Indianapolis as fast as possible, with no time for second guessing.

“And my flat happened to have a room free because our boy Jason decided to move in with Beauty Queen,” Leo added to that story. “It’s really no stranger than that.”

“Oh, right, someone must have mentioned that you and Jason used to be flatmates,” Will recalled. “I just didn’t connect the dots.”

Jason had apparently finished welcoming the rest of the guests because he joined the group in the living room. “That reminds me, I don’t think I’ve asked you, Calypso, if Leo still leaves his dishes undone and if he has empty milk cartons in the fridge.”

“He used to do that?” Calypso asked with amusement. “After seeing his room that’s not so hard to picture, but no, he’s been pretty tidy in the common area. Although one time he bribed me to do his dishes for him in exchange for some of his food.”

“It was a good deal!” Leo protested. “You didn’t have to cook and you also got to taste some Valdez’ sizzling hot quesadillas so I’d say it was a win-win. Besides, you didn’t seem to have anything against that.”

“Alright, I will admit the quesadillas were pretty good,” Calypso conceded. “But a true gentleman offers them without even asking. Well, other than that he’s been OK,” she told Jason with a playful twinkle in her eye.

“I guess he really is able to change his habits, then,” he replied. “At least when the flatmate is someone he...”

Before Jason had time to finish his sentence, Leo intervened: “Folks, do we really have to be talking about my cleaning habits in front of people I don’t know? The first impressions are important, especially when it comes to Supersized McShizzle!”

“We’re just being honest, Repair Boy.” Calypso couldn’t resist booping his metal covered nose. Apparently she just didn’t know how to not cross the line with this boy, she sighed in her mind.

“Is that all? Where’s the feisty Sunshine I know?,” Leo said in a low tone, so the others could barely hear his comment, coming out almost flirty.

“Shut up,” Calypso answered equally quietly but held her gaze at him.

“Ahem,” they suddenly heard Piper’s voice behind them. “In case you’ve stopped with the flirting, I’d like you to meet a couple of people.”

Calypso turned to see the newcomers and as she recognized the Hunter badges both of them had attached to their shirts, something in her mind just suddenly turned off.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Ieyasu and Chilli

This is a touch of madness that came from the wonder that is Discord, my 2am brain and a lot of supportive encouragement from a bunch of friendly enablers. 

@umbralaperture​ @tsundere-mitsuhide​ @silver-fox-of-azuchi​ @jennacat84​

I hope you all enjoy it.

Masterlist

---

Ieyasu and Chilli

Imagine if you will a tiny timid little creature. No this is not a height joke aimed at our fluffy contrarian. 

For those of you unaware of what a Dik-dik is they are tiny antelopes (30-40cm in height and 50-70cm in length.) So a baby one is well, smaller. 

Image is not mine it was from a newpaper article and all credit goes to the photographer for capturing such cuteness. *link for article is here

This is also the creature that Mai came into the castle carrying in her arms after somehow liberating it from a merchant.

“What have you got now?” Ieyasu stops in his tracks on his way out of the castle gate as she tries to slip past unnoticed. 

“Oh! Ieyasu. I found this and wanted your advice on how to take care of it.” Mai’s shoulders jumped at being called but she quickly plastered a rather overly happy smile on her face and faked acting like everything was totally normal. 

Yes, nothing to see here people just Mai carrying a rather small animal in her arms like a doll or a child. What do you mean she didn’t have that when she left earlier?

“Put it back.” His voice was firm and commanding. His green eyes flicked briefly to the creature before holding a very stone-cold glare at his girlfriend.

“What?”Her eyes went wide. For some reason, she never thought he would tell her that. I mean this is Ieyasu. Her Ieyasu. The one that has a deer living in his garden at his mansion to prevent Masamune tuning it into venison burgers.  

“Go and put that thing back wherever you found it. You don’t know where it’s been and there is more than enough work around here for both of us without adding caring for a rodent.” 

“He isn’t a rodent! He’s a... deer-like something.” Actually, Mai had no idea as to the true name of the animal cradled in her arms. Sasuke was going to get paid a visit at some point so she could ask him if he knew.

“You don’t even know what it is and you are saying you want to look after it?” Ieyasu scoffed his tone was still cold but he was coming closer to her now so he could judge for himself if this thing was really not a threat.

“Look I found him. The guys at the dock caught him running around and put him in a cage. They were talking about roasting him.” Mai was pleading with her big eyes that seemed to be mirrored in the same way by the little creature in her arms. Great two sets of puppy eyes.

“I’m sure he’d make a very nice snack.” Ieyasu quipped remembering his own first encounter with Wasabi except he now seemed to have switched places with Masa. Not an idea he liked very much at all.

*GASP!* “Don’t listen to the nasty man Chilli you are no more a snack than Wasabi is rations.” Mai acted dramatically covering the ears of the little creature with her fingers. 

She knew. Of course, she did she was his girlfriend and knew all about Wasabi and how he came to care for the deer. Curses.

“Don’t bring up Wasabi... and don’t name the thing you’ll get attached to it.” Ieyasu began trying to solidify how he was putting his foot down only to be brushed past by Mai as she continued into the castle. “Hey, you listening to me?!”

*

Regardless of his ever-constant protests, Ieyasu ends up watching the little creature even more closely than Mai. He can’t believe she brought him back to his manor with her and let him loose in his room.

“It that thing gets into my medicinal herbs you are getting the blame.”He grumbled but made sure to move anything that might be poisonous to the small deer creature out of reach.

“Oh, he’s fine. Look, he isn’t after herbs at all he’s more interested in your scarf.” Mai giggled.

“What!?” Her laughter was welcome but the sight of the small animal tugging on his clothing that had been placed nearby was not. “Oh no, you don’t.”Ieyasu rushed to take back the scarf that was being gently tugged. “Bad little deer thing. My scarf, not yours.” 

He grabbed the fabric and yanked it a little harder than he realised the little animal made a noise as it rolled and then scampered under a chair to hide.

“Aww look what you did now it looks so frighted.” Mai crawled over and scooped up the trembling animal back into her arms. he watched it still at the sound of her heartbeat and then without saying a word he left the room feeling wretched for his own actions.

Later that evening Mai had managed to fall asleep. Chilli was near the brazier curled up like a cat with a small bowl for water and one that had some vegetables from the kitchen nearby.

He put down his book and decided to go to bed himself. blowing out the candle and getting changed he heard something pining. Chilli had moved to the futon and was trying to nudge Mai’s hand. He was only a baby after all so he was probably looking for comfort.

“You are hopeless.” Ieyasu huffed in a half-whisper. Taking his scarf and curling it up at the edge of the futon near Mai for Chilli. “Happy now?”

That night was probably the first time Ieyasu ended up wondering if this is what it was like to be a father. 

*

When Mai is busy around the castle the little creature tries to keep up by very quickly tires out. It is rather like watching a duckling following its mother which is endearing but almost gave Ieyasu a heart attack when someone ran up to the Princess and nearly kicked the little thing, unaware of its existence.

“Have a care!” Ieyasu called out as he swiftly bent down to pick up Chilli before he could be kicked in the head.

“My lord?” The vassel was confused as they genuinely didn’t know what they had done to earn Ieyasu’s ire. 

“Tell me is it part of basic training now that we simply blunder about without taking note of our surroundings or is it that something that is unique to you?” Ieyasu shot the man a pointed glare and turned swiftly walking away from both Mai and the stunned soldier carrying Chilli.

*

When Mai is in the castle now unless she is working on commissions Chilli is with Ieyasu. 

Each has a bed for him in their rooms that are little more than a small round basket and some handmade bedding. 

Mai originally only intended to make one for her room in the castle but after Ieyasu stopped by to bring her something from Nobunaga he noticed it.

“What? You think it’s dumb?” Mai asked noticing Ieyasu was lingering in her room longer than it took to just deliver missives. Realising his eyes were on the pet bed she had fashioned.

“I think it’s very you.” Aware he had been caught staring Ieyasu attempted to make it sound as if he thought her actions were childish. 

“Well, luckily Chilli here seems to like my work.” Mai reached out and stroked the animal that he could have sworn developed a very smug look on its face after receiving her attention. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” 

“Did you want one for your room too?” Mai asked partly as a joke. She could see his ears were a little red and whatever unspoken misunderstanding she had over the pet bed was suddenly gone. 

“Whatever.” Ieyasu left her room and returned to his mansion muttering to himself. He wasn’t going to be jealous of Chilli. Just because he got to be near Mai all the time. No that was ridiculous. 

When Mai returned at night with a replica bed with bedding in different coloured fabric Ieyasu avoided looking at it until she was asleep. He ended up with the softest smile on his face as he stroked the curled up Chilli in the basket. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

*

Wasabi is a big fan of new friends. Unlike Ieyasu, she is much more open to new people and animal friends. That is after she has gotten over the timid part of her nature as a deer.

Chilli is practically the animal equivalent of a heart eyes emoji. As far as he is concerned Wasabi is a Deity and adores her. When she lays down and is much more ‘his level’ he popcorns around in little jumps and hops on, off and over her. Wasabi doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

Their first encounter had Ieyasu more nervous than Mai. Chilli was put down on the ground near Wasabi as she was enjoying some food and there was a moment where Ieyasu looked like he was about ready to jump in and scoop up the tiny addition if Wasabi was in the slightest bit aggressive. 

Think eagle watching a bunny as it hovered over it. Hideyoshi clearly passed some helicopter parenting skills down to the resident contrarian. 

It didn’t happen. What did happen was Wasabi bent down and touched noses with Chilli, both wagged their tails at the other and then in a very welcome to the family gesture Wasabi took a small leaf from the bowl in Mai’s hand and gave it to Chilli. 

“Looks like you were worried for nothing then huh?” Mai laughed happily seeing the two getting along.

“I wasn’t worried.” Ieyasu said visibly relaxing slightly even if he was still observing like a hawk.

“Well, he can come outside and play at the manor now at least.” Mai smiled watching as Chilli investigated some of the flowers and rocks. A whole new world.

“Not without supervision.” Ieyasu stated flatly.

“You don’t think Wasabi will still hurt him?” Mai tilted her head at him.

“No, but it’s going to be a pain if he falls somewhere and gets stuck. You would never let me hear the end of it.”

*

Masamune came to visit the manor on Mai’s day off carrying something in his arms that was apparently a new dish he wanted her opinion on. Ieyasu was reading next to her as she put down her own book and tried the dish.

“It’s wonderful Masa. Maybe a little too sweet though.” Mai’s verdict was as honest as she was which didn’t insult the chef at all. He kept smiling and made a mental note so he could amend his recipe later.

“You’ve been hanging out with this one too long Lass next you’ll be telling me it’s not spicy enough and telling me to put more chilli in my curries.” Masa was as friendly as ever. Ieyasu had given up trying to prevent him from attempting to be near Mai and settled on being the chaperone to their friendship. The scarf around Ieyasu’s neck moved the little head of Chilli popped out from the fabric like a chick in an egg. Masa noticed the movement and his eye went wide.“What on earth?”

“Oh! right I guess you didn’t meet. Masa this is Chilli.” Mai reached out and peeled back some of the scarf that had pooled near Ieyasu revealing more of the little animal. 

“Interesting. Deciding to grow your own herd now are ya? I’ll put in an order now shall I?” Masa reached out towards Chilli who darted back under the scarf and pressed itself as close as possible against Ieyasu.

“Don’t be ridiculous there isn’t enough of him to make any kind of a meal.” Ieyasu slapped Masa’s hand away.

“Yeah wanna bet on that one Lad cos I’m sure I could whip up something that-”

“You upset him and it upsets her. I don’t care what really happens to him but you upset Mai and I’ll relieve you of your other eye.” Ieyasu cut off Masa’s little joke with a warning as he stood up and carried both his book and Chilli away with him.

The laughter and teasing that happened in the castle at Ieyasu’s expense after that lasted for weeks. Every time Chilli appeared from under his scarf or was seen in his arms where he had picked them up because they had become too tired to carry on the teasing restarted. 

As much as it annoyed him Ieyasu wouldn’t give up the little creature now if you paid him. He will say it is because of Mai. He doesn’t want her to be upset and that is true. What he won’t say is that he adores the small deer just as much as she does. 

---

[magioftheseas]

Scar To Burden

For @badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Scar to Remember taken from here.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Body horror, mental instability, messiness. Yes.

Notes: It was also part of an art trade of sorts. Because it’s canon Matsun, it ended up a little vent-y. Waaaaah. I should write more MatsuHina. We need more danganronpa zero + super danganronpa 2 content in general.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“If you’re gonna keep staring at it,” Matsuda griped. “You might as well just take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Hinata froze immediately, fingertips lingering on his head scars. In the reflection, he sees Matsuda huff. Sees him stride close, clapping a hand on his trembling shoulder.

“What’s up?” Matsuda asked coldly, leaning in and pressing up against him, sending chills down his spine. “The hell is with that stupid fucking face?”

Matsuda’s thumb presses against the scar, right above Hinata’s ear, where Matsuda’s touch had lingered before.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

--

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The specter snorts, crossing his legs the way the living Matsuda Yasuke so often did. Hinata tries not to let his gaze trail from the other’s face, not to the legs fading out to nothing and certainly not to the chest under Matsuda’s crossed arms, which looked like it had been stomped in. Over and over. But rather than the expected blood and gore, it was faded around the edges, as if the being were just a wax replica. Except wax didn’t huff at him like that.

“Don’t tell me you’d rather I was someone else,” Matsuda sneezed. “Upset I’m not your stupid fucking girlfriend? God, don’t tell me you’d prefer Junko.”

“Absolutely not,” Hinata snapped, bristling. “It’s just—why now?”

“Dunno.” In typical Matsuda fashion, he was just shrugged at like he wasn’t worth a second longer of thought. “Just felt like it. It’s super fucking boring being dead, y’know. I can only read over people’s shoulders. I can’t eat. I can’t even sleep. Sucks. So fucking bad. Makes me wish necromancy was a talent, not gonna lie.”

Hinata did feel Kamukura Izuru stir inside him. Whether with curiosity or something else, Hinata steeled himself against it.

He’s gone. Matsuda’s gone. That he’s even here is probably just—

“You think I’m an hallucination,” Matsuda droned. “I’m not. Ask me a question, fucker. I’ll prove it.”

“Proof?” Hinata had to laugh at that, mirthlessly as it was. “Like what?”

“Your stupid fucking boyfriend? He’s with the meathead coach right now. Being lugged about like a particular sad sack of potatoes after collapsing during a jog.” Matsuda shows his teeth. “That sniveling not-quite-nurse will be treating him by the time you rush over.”

Komaeda isn’t—

Hinata got up immediately.

(To his utter despair, Matsuda was completely right. He didn’t even know what to say in between Komaeda swearing that he was alright and apologizing for the trouble as Tsumiki insisted she was doing well in treating him, don’t worry, don’t worry, why do you look so pale, Hinata-san, y-you look like you’ve seen a ghost—)

--

Despite clearly keeping tabs on everyone there, Hinata doesn’t see Matsuda tailing anyone else. Hell, he doesn’t even see Matsuda outside of his cottage. He wonders if Matsuda can control whether or not he’s seen, and he’s too disturbed to ponder it.

This, unfortunately, doesn’t stop Kamukura Izuru, which makes Hinata feel all kinds of skin-crawlingly disgusting. Makes him also want to claw out his skull, to rip the stitches open if he could.

“Jeez, what’s up your rectum?”

What do you fucking think, Matsuda? Rather than spit out the words, Hinata glares at the ghost over his shoulder. He’s trying to read a book Sonia lent him—but of course Matsuda’s too damn clever to buy into the ruse.

“You look constipated,” Matsuda pointed out, cutting through him with such ease. Always capable of cutting through him with well-practiced fingers and an even more skillfully sharp tongue. “You’re so fucking obvious about it, too.”

Hinata wanted to seethe, but willed himself to keep a straight, unimpressed face.

“Boring read, huh,” Matsuda droned, reflecting that same expression back. “Is it because it’s predictable or because it’s just not to your taste?”

“It’s...” Hinata bit back the word boring. His temper flared, and he forced that back down as well for good measure. “It’s hard to focus on anything when you’re breathing down my neck. In a manner of speaking.”

The dead man—boy, really, Matsuda fucking died before he reached adulthood—just quirked an eyebrow at him. The corner of his lips curled into a truly ugly smirk, accompanied by a snort.

“A manner of speaking!” Matsuda rose his voice to an annoyingly nasal high-pitched tone. “Isn’t that book about a fucking doctor who plays god?” He blows past before Hinata can think twice, flipping the pages furiously. “You didn’t even get to the best part! Look here!”

He brandishes it with mock theatrics and a sneer.

“They shove him back,” Matsuda intones, voice low and grave. “Down, down, down he went. They watch him fall. He, who built them, who built up everything—he who looked so much smaller when splattered to bits.”

Hinata said nothing. He just waited until Matsuda fizzled.

“You piece of shit.” Matsuda still got out one last mirthless chuckle. “You’ve already read it, huh? You fucking started fiddling with it, knowing I’d get fucking curious about it. You knew, you knew, you knew.”

Hinata didn’t say anything to that, either.

“Was it satisfying?” Matsuda hissed. “Was it cathartic? Watching that bitch not only fall to pieces but also give up?”

“She was content, Matsuda.” Hinata simply brushed him off. “She was satisfied with the outcome.”

Matsuda’s form simmers with so much anger that it blurs his edges and especially blurs his expression. Like this, you might not even be able to tell that the once neurologist was in tears. What grew especially jagged from these distortions was the gaping maw in his chest.

Despite looking less and less like a once-person, this being couldn’t be further from dissipating completely. Hinata could hear his own heartbeat, and what a wretched sound that was in this utter, tumultuous silence.

“...sorry,” he finally whispers, just for something new. Just to keep himself from trying to dig his nails into his scar. The ghost reshapes itself, only slightly. It drifts close, and Hinata sucked in his breath. “I’m sorry, Matsuda, I... I-I just...”

Matsuda’s fingertips, practiced and cold and gentle as always, brush against his forehead scars.

“You’re unbearable to look at with this,” Matsuda murmured as Hinata’s breath ended up hitching. Like this, like this, the ghost of the guy who helped ruined him really did look like quite the dream.

“You think?” he couldn’t help but ask. “The lines were clean. The stiches tidy. Evenly spaced apart.” Those cold fingers curled against his jaw, and he just leans into that deathly touch. “It’s a work of art, isn’t it? On the outside and the inside.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Rather than with fire or ice, Matsuda’s words are airy and weightless. “Don’t say such creepy bullshit.”

When Hinata does reach up to grip the other’s hand, he phases right through. Because, obviously he does.

Obviously.

--

“Have you seen anything strange lately?”

“Mm? You’ll have to be more specific.” Komaeda, when perked up and bright-eyed, is especially alert. “Has something happened, Hinata-kun?”

“No.” The lie comes so easily it’s despicable. “I was just asking.”

I’m not the only person that Matsuda’s looking after.

“It’s a strange question,” Komaeda said, cajoling. Hinata still doesn’t bite, even when Komaeda seems serious. “Nothing happened at all?”

“Something is always happening,” he pointed out. “There is no need for suspicion over a simple question.”

“Hahaha. Oh, Hinata-kun. When did you get so unbearable?”

When, indeed?

Somehow, even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure he’d know how to answer. Maybe he’s always been this way. Maybe he’s only like this because he got on a table and let a guy his own age cut open his skull under the slimy supervision of a farcical medical staff. That same guy had been—

Not...nice. Once upon a time. But, maybe, just maybe, they had a relationship close to being friends. Matsuda would smack him with books and demand food. Would often drag him off-campus and distract him from everything for a good hour. Matsuda was grumpy and abrasive, absolutely not the kind of person he’d normally want to associate with. He was cruel, too, up until Hinata finalized the contract.

It was only after the stupid simulation that Hinata realized that Matsuda never wanted any of this. That Matsuda did care, especially in the way he made the procedure swift and simple...and especially in the way he’d stare at his head scars with the most pained eyes.

How boringly simple Matsuda Yasuke always was. It’s no wonder he had so many regrets.

“If you do see something, let me know,” Hinata said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Komaeda gives him a look, and Hinata wonders about Matsuda’s regrets involving him. Involving damn near everyone in the class that Enoshima Junko got her claws into.

Selfishly, I don’t...

--

“I don’t want you to worry about them. They’re my responsibility now.”

“Mmhm,” Matsuda hummed, unconvinced as he draped himself over the bed. He was playing with the pages of a manga that Hinata purposefully left out. “Possessive, are you? Fucked up.”

“I’m the one with this.” Hinata tapped his scar. “This is all that remains of you after the simulation was forcibly shut down.”

“Maybe that’s why you can see me,” Matsuda muttered, sounding wholly disinterested. “And here I just fucking thought Kamukura Izuru was an Ultimate Medium or something.”

Kamukura Izuru was. However, Hinata has no intention of being the same.

“I want to be the only one that has to deal with the burden of your memory. You’re right. I’m possessive.”

“Just like her.” Matsuda sneered at him, pointing to where his own heart would be if it hadn’t been stomped to dust. “You’re a piece of work, alright.”

“That’s thanks to you.”

Matsuda chuckles softly under his breath. It’s not just mirthless, it’s downright miserable. His form flickers, too. Hinata idly rubs over the swollen scar tissue, gaze not leaving the other for a second.

“Take a picture,” Matsuda says, flat and irritated. “It’ll last longer.”

I’ll keep this image just as I’ve kept your marks and memory.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg ooo the lore deepens

Heads Up- Part 10 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

With Joseph going to university every couple of days, and Suzi visiting often but still usually sleeping at her own home, there were days that Caesar was left home alone.

Joseph had invested in extra door locks to keep him safe, makeshift mini-elevators to help the bodiless bust get up and down the kitchen and living room tables, and put up canvasses and customized paint holders to encourage his fondness for painting to pass the time.

Caesar was a great painter-- especially for someone with no hands.

With much practice in holding a paintbrush in his mouth, something that Caesar found much easier as opposed to colored pencils that broke when pressed too hard, Joseph's artistic masterpieces had begun producing masterpieces of his own. Simple, abstract scribbles at first, but over time began to make art of the things he saw around the house. Still lifes of tables, furniture, windows, in his own crude, mouth-scribbly style.

Today was one such day. Joseph was away at the art school, working on projects of his own. And Suzi hadn't called for today, and probably wasn't coming for a while.

And so Caesar spent his time painting. But he was tired of the things within the confines of the apartment, and opted for a new medium.

Pulling the blinds of the window open with his teeth, Caesar exposed the view of the vacant lot behind Joseph's house. One that was somewhat still a wild region, overgrown with grasses, with a few sparse trees, and further into the horizon, the skyline of the big city with towering skyscrapers that seemed like mere toys from such a distance.

A smile crept across Caesar's face. This seemed like a perfect muse for another painting.

And as Joseph created art with a purpose, he wondered if this was his.

---------

Suzi looked over at the bag Joseph had given her.

She was in her own home, an apartment somewhat smaller than Joseph's. The post-graduate artist hadn't really done very much in the past year, and her house reflected it: it was quite a mess, with many boxes, items and inexplicable odds and ends cluttering every tabletop and shelf, a problem compounded by the artist's somewhat scatterbrained nature at times.

She sat on her couch, typing away at her laptop. She'd been very curious about the past few days about where exactly that design on the bag came from-- definitely a Mesoamerican influence, perhaps some sort of mystical trinket from long ago.

It had been the bag that Joseph had found in his attic, that had contained the lump of clay that had become Caesar. As Joseph had said before, it didn't seem like a particularly special material at first: yet now, given that it literally was alive, there certainly was something unique about it. Especially given that all other clay they attached to Caesar, in their failed attempts to give him a body, had invariably remained lifeless and cold.

And as she scrolled through pictures on her laptop, she happened upon something extraordinary.

A site cataloguing local folklore, with details that seemed oddly familiar.

Legends told in ancient Central America about sacred soils that could channel strange energies. One myth, in particular, caught her attention: a tale of a talented artist who, in her sheer devotion to detail in her work, managed to usher in spirits of inspiration to take new life into her work.

Idols that harbored the souls of the ancestors that led them to convene with their successors generations on.

Suzi scoffed. This seemed like strange superstitious magic, wasn't it?

Yet deep down, as much of a mature, rational woman as she was, a small part deep within her had always believed in magic, wished to believe. Perhaps it was the hopeful, wide-eyed child within her now enveloped in the shell of a responsible adult, that sometimes shone through when she was around people she was comfortable, like Joseph, and now, Caesar too.

Perhaps that was why she wasn't too surprised about Caesar when she first met the living sculpture in Joseph's apartment a couple of weeks earlier.

Because a bit of her had always believed in magic-- and Caesar's very existence served only to confirm it.

---------

Joseph strolled around the art gallery of the university, beholding in wonder at the vast, museum-like halls bearing the works of its many previous students.

Statues, sculptures, paintings and murals of all shapes and styles adorned the walls, platforms and shelves of nearly every corner of the building's interior. Everything was art, they said, and the masterpieces certainly reflected it.

And as much as Joseph was in awe of the beauty of the gallery, something made him uneasy, as he looked at them, especially the sculpted statues that resided in glass cases, carved in eternal repose with their lifeless eyes gazing blankly into empty space.

Would this have been Caesar's fate?

Joseph couldn't bear the thought of Caesar, his roommate, his friend and companion, spending the rest of his existence like this.

What kind of life would that be?

Joseph's disturbed thoughts were interrupted when he bumped into somebody, as he was too preoccupied with the art to look where he was going.

"Oh, I'm sorry, young man," said an old, throaty voice, with a prominent Italian accent. "You need to be careful around here too."

"Apologies, Mr. Zeppeli," Joseph said awkwardly, with an uncertain scratch of his head.

Mr. William Zeppeli was one of the oldest professors in the university, and had long taught the class on the subject of three-dimensional art. Instantly recognizable by his trademark moustache and top hat, Mr. Zeppeli had mentored Joseph in his first year in the university, and was quite familiar with him.

"I'm glad to see you've come so far, Mr. Joestar," Mr. Zeppeli said with a pat on Joseph's back. "I believe you would be graduating this year, are you not?"

Joseph smiled proudly. "I sure will be, sir!"

Mr. Zeppeli gave a warm chuckle. "That's the spirit!" he said. "So, the final project is due next month. What is your grand masterpiece?"

"A bust sculpture," Joseph said impulsively, before realizing he probably shouldn't have said it out loud.

A proud, yet solemn smile emerged on Mr. Zeppeli's weathered features. "Come with me," he told Joseph.

He led Joseph towards the hall of statues, where Joseph was amazed to see a vast array of clay figures, of people, objects and places, all impressively detailed even for him. Sculptures of birds in flight, each feather intricately carved in astonishing perfection. Miniature models of famous landmarks around the world, such as a replica of the Colosseum in Rome. Faces of people molded in clay, so expressive they seemed they almost could speak.

Something that, at this point, wouldn't have surprised Joseph anymore.

"He would have loved to meet you," Mr. Zeppeli said woefully. "I've seen some of the sculptures you've made before and they remind me of him so much."

"W-who?" Joseph asked, curious at the person Mr. Zeppeli had referred to.

"My grandson," replied the old teacher with a bittersweet note in his voice.

"He went to this school a decade ago, and was one of the best students this institution had ever known. All these, the figures you see before you, are his creations, and I...I am proud to call him my grandson," said Mr. Zeppeli, as he wiped away a tear.

The old professor gestured to a small sign next to the case displaying his grandson's masterpieces. "He was a jolly fellow, if not without a strange sense of humor. You two might have become friends."

Joseph looked closely at the sign. There was something very familiar.

And as its contents sank in, his heart nearly stopped.

"IN MEMORY OF ANTHONIO ZEPPELI (1983-2008), GONE BUT FOREVER REMEMBERED," said the caption.

But what captured his attention, and struck him to the very center of his being, was the picture of the late artist displayed on the sign.

He had no pink cheek marks, and he, of course, had a body.

But he was, unmistakably and otherwise identically, Caesar.

"Is--is this him?" gasped Joseph in disbelief.

"I guess you'd recognize that face," Mr. Zeppeli gave a faint laugh. "Remember that statue of Julius Caesar displayed here, several years ago? He based it off himself. That isn't even remotely close to what the real Julius Caesar looked like, he was a talented, if strange, boy who found it amusing to stick his own likeness onto his art."

Julius Caesar, Joseph thought. His reference.

He felt a strange sensation, as if his whole world was suddenly shattered, and was slowly piecing itself back together like a jigsaw puzzle, into a new reality that seemed way too fateful for his peace of mind.

"Uh...uh...I just suddenly remembered I have a class to go to," said a flustered Joseph, quickly conjuring up an alibi. "See you later, Mr. Zeppeli!" he said, and promptly dashed off in a hurry.

-------

"Jojo? You would not believe what I just found," Suzi said, as she entered Joseph's house later that evening.

"Well, you wouldn't believe what I found out today," Joseph replied, with a shell-shocked look on his face.

Suzi was taken aback. "Looks like you've seen some serious stuff," she gasped. "Y-you go first."

"Do you know a certain Anthonio Zeppeli?" Joseph asked her.

"As in...the student who died a while back?" she said. "I've...I've heard of him, he was talked about a couple of times by my friends one year ahead of your batch. And about...what happened to him."

Caesar, who at just the right moment, had been bouncing by, was intrigued. "Happened to who?" he asked, pausing in his tracks.

Suzi sat down on the sofa. "They say he was a student from a few batches prior. He was a talented sculptor who was great at working with clay, marble, concrete..."

"Yeah, I've seen his stuff," interjected Joseph.

"Well, the thing is, they told he had been commissioned to carve a mural into a hotel's front lobby, nearly ten years ago," she told. "He was perched up on a ladder, chipping away at the wall, when suddenly, he broke a support on a stone ornament, shaped like a cross--"

"--and he was so startled when it began to topple, that he stumbled right off his ladder, fell to his death...and then the stone cross fell and landed right on top of him."

Joseph winced. That sounded like a terrible way to go.

"Well, there's something you wouldn't believe," Joseph said, pulling out a yearbook he'd borrowed from the library. Look at his face."

Suzi leaned closer for a look, and gasped in shock.

"I'd never seen what he'd looked like, but...but..."

"Caesar. It's you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Caesar exclaimed. "I can't see anything from down here!"

Suzi picked up the bust with some effort and rested him onto the tabletop. He hopped over to the book to check out what all the commotion was about--

--and was silent for an uncomfortably long time.

"See, this is what I was gonna tell you," Suzi said. "I'd been reading on the design on the bag that you found Caesar's clay in. There were legends in ancient Mesoamerica that artists who were talented enough would be able to usher in spirits of predescessors into idols of a special sacred clay to serve as inspiration," she said.

"And maybe, just maybe, Caesar is alive-- because he is Anthonio Zeppeli's soul."

"So am I a ghost?!" Caesar screamed in terrified confusion, hopping backwards a few bounces from sheer terror. "I'm a dead man in a clay head?!" he cried, disturbed by the revelation.

"More like a reincarnation," Suzi explained. "The legends told that they became spirit guides to their creators, that they held the wisdom and knowledge of the past, but remembered little of their past lives-- rather, they carried over some traits, but were their own, unique person."

"Did they have bodies?" Joseph asked right off the bat.

"Yes... you were just unlucky to not have enough clay," she added.

Caesar groaned in frustration.

"You know, I honestly wouldn't have believed some ancient mythology," Joseph said, "but given I've been living with a talking, walking sculpture--"

"Not exactly walking," Caesar corrected.

"...er, bouncing, sculpture for the last couple of weeks, I'd take any explanation at this point." he admitted.

"I think he chose you, Joseph," Suzi said with a smile.

Caesar looked at Anthonio's picture in the yearbook, and saw only himself. The same green eyes, blond hair, unmistakable face. He lacked the pink cheek patches, however, which Joseph admitted he'd tacked on to Caesar just for kicks. Anthonio had a body.

Could he really be Anthonio Zeppeli returned from the dead? Caesar pondered. If that was true, he remembered nothing of being Anthonio.

The idea of having once been a living human unsettled Caesar.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel oddly vindicated.

He'd wondered often recently why he even existed, as just another of Joseph's art. What use did he serve?

But now he wondered, upon hearing of Suzi's tale-- maybe this was his purpose.

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