#too poor to be choosy

[kelcipher]

[heller-castiel]

job interview. helb

[o-sachi]

Wishlist! - Headcanons for WinBre Week!

ᯓ what are the furin boys putting on their wishlist this year? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, sugishita kyotaro, mitsuki kiryu, kaji ren, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo ᯓ tags; just plain platonic headcanons

[🐟]: for day 5 - holidays prompt! @windbreakerweek

Sakura Haruka

"Ehhh? No... I don't want anything..."

He's only saying that because he'd feel like too much of a burden knowing someone might go out of their way to get him a present.

But he's like the easiest person to give a gift to because he will appreciate anything you give him. Hell, the fact that you even thought to get him anything is a gift in and of itself.

Although, he'd prefer something that isn't super expensive.

Wishlist: a new blanket, coupons for omurice, another pair of shoes (pls get our boy a new pair of shoes)

Suo Hayato

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful of you."

Not really choosy when it comes to gifts either. He's probably hella rich and has everything that he wants already, so gifts are like a kind gesture to him if anything.

Although, he prefers gifts with meaning over ones that are practical.

It's because he can buy the practical stuff, but he can't put in meaning into things that he buys for himself.

Wishlist: rare tea leaves, lucky trinket, calligraphy brush (a hobby he picked up recently)

Sugishita Kyotaro

"For me? Why."

Doesn't really think about gifts, both in the sense of giving and receiving it.

But if you give him one, he'll be over the moon. Doesn't matter what it is really. He's similar to Sakura in this regard.

However, his issue with gifts is that he doesn't know how to react when he's given one. Is a thank you enough? Should he get them a gift too? He's so overwhelmed. Poor guy...

Wishlist: a small plant for his room, a plain shirt, Ume's approval (he's been told you can't put things like this on a wishlist, but he got mad)

Mitsuki Kiryu

"Yippee! You're the best. Thank you so much."

He likes to joke about stuff that he likes to receive. Also jokes about not needing gifts because his fangirls already give him more than enough.

He judges gifts based on aesthetic appeal rather than its practical use. He doesn't care if its useless as long as it'll look good on him or in his room.

I just know this dude has the best reactions when given any gift. Even if he has experienced it soooo many times, he'll make you feel as if he's so thankful for it each time.

Wishlist: gems for the game he's playing, a cat charm, a hamburger phone case (so he can alternate between that and the hotdog phone case)

Kaji Ren

"Wha? What's the occasion? Well, thanks. I guess..."

Super adamant about not wanting to receive any gifts. He says he's happy enough to have loyal friends by his side. Honestly, he's just scared to get emotional if the gift ends up being too good.

Gifts from close friends hold more value to him regardless of what the gift is.

It's pretty easy to predict the things that he would like...

Wishlist: a box of lollipops, a new hoodie, a year's worth of Spotify subscriptions (me too actually sob)

Umemiya Hajime

"Whaddaya know? I also have a little something for you here!"

It actually puts a bit of pressure on you to find Ume the perfect gift because he is THE GIFT GIVER. It's like he always knows what everyone would love.

A really simple guy. Even quality time is considered a gift in his eyes.

Ume prefers gifts that aren't the usual kinds of things you'd buy from the store, so stuff like handmade gifts, home cooked meals, and letters are his favorite things to receive.

Wishlist: a new trowel for gardening, a shirt that says "Tomato Dad", a dinner party with the entire Furin student body (awww)

Hiragi Toma

"Thanks. I'll make sure to use this."

He's like an old man, so gifts that are practical are is preference. His eyes go wide when the thing is multi-purpose and a steal for its price.

He's also the type of person to preserve gift bags to use for another time. Although, he has definitely gifted back to a person using a bag given to him by that same person before...

A big believer of the saying, "It's the thought that counts."

Wishlist: stomach medicine... lots of it, hair gel, perfume/cologne (I JUST KNOW HE SMELLS GOOD)

Togame Jo

"Aww, this for me? You didn't have to."

Nonchalant as fuck when receiving gifts, but trust me, he is sobbing inside. He's so happy someone thought of him.

Also prefers practical gifts, but it hardly matters. As long as you got him something, he'll be grateful for it.

He won't admit it but he enjoys the moment of unwrapping the gift. Even better if it's wrapped neatly and with a bow on top. Kame's not sure why, but he just loves that part.

Wishlist: food foood fooooood, a new pair of sandals, fancy shogi set (to show off to the old men he plays with lol)

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[breannasfluff]

Morning, chirps Hyrule. Time to preen. He yawns and stretches his wings. Only—the curse. They don’t have wings. He’s trying to flex muscles he doesn’t have. Preen… the call peters out because there is nothing to preen.

Legend mumbles something and rolls further into Wolfie’s side for the heat. Burrowed into the blankets and without wings, it’s just a mop of pink hair and the chilled tip of an ear sticking out.

Wild is missing and Hyrule glances around the camp. No magpie to be seen.

Flockmate? He sends out a questioning whistle. Some of the others stir slightly, but Wild doesn’t answer. Flock-of-my-heart? He gives their flock call, adding a worried undertone.

This gets a response. “Good morning, Rulie!”

Wild’s voice comes from above and the brown thrasher tilts his head back to stare at the trees. They may have no wings, but the shaking of branches and rain of leaves resolves into Wild, swinging down.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting breakfast! I found some eggs in the tree. I already picked up some herbs and I’ve still got fixings, so I can make omelets!”

Judging the distance, Wild hangs from his hands and drops lightly to the ground. His legs bend to absorb the impact.

“How can you do that?” At the look of confusion, Hyrule clarifies. “Without your wings.”

“Oh, after the yiga, I had to get good at traveling on foot. Wolfie watched me fall out of more trees than I can count.” Rather than send him into a funk, Wild only laughs at the memory. He’s in a cheerful mood today. “I had to live like the other races do, without flying. It’s not ideal, but I can manage it!”

Hyrule knows the basics of what happened to Wild when he was captured by the yiga. Well, he knows more than the basics. As they’ve grown closer, Wild’s shared bits and pieces—usually after a nightmare or when he’s skittish. Yet even Legend doesn’t know every detail that happened.

Honestly, would it be better for Wild to tell someone? Or to let the memory fade away? Then again, Hyrule’s never had much luck with bad memories fading. He can block them out, but sooner or later they bubble up and find him again.

His era isn’t a kind one. It’s often not safe to fly; certainly not more than short distances. He’s lucky he wasn’t born with wings to migrate, like Time or Four. A thrasher’s wings may be smaller, but he blends into the woods and can quickly dart from tree to tree. It’s a gift, on his own.

Wild hums as he stokes the fire and pulls ingredients and pans from his slate. Normally, the red gems to protect against fire would be winking as they catch the light at the base of his wings. Those, too, are gone with the curse. Feathers crossed they come back when it fades.

Glancing up, Wild catches his eye and grins, ears drooping with happiness. Hyrule can’t help but smile back. He flutters his wings on instinct, except there’s nothing but the shrug of his shoulders. Right. No wings. No preening. His fingers itch to sink into feathers.

With this flock, but even more with his sub-flock; Hyrule is happy. Happiness was not a common emotion before his journeys. He’s enough of a loner bird that he can survive without a flock, unlike Wild or Four. But long periods alone—like the years that stretched around him—have an impact.

Friends were transient at best and morally grey at worst. He couldn’t afford to be choosy. Sometimes Hyrule needed someone, anyone, to chase away the silence. There were few activities to fill his time outside of survival. Every day he was exhausted. It could be from a poor sleep schedule—it was rarely safe to sleep deeply.

Zelda, the one he rescued from Ganon, from his first adventure, later became his friend. He was the one Zelda called when she started nesting. In turn, it would trigger his own nesting instincts.

Zia was the original Zelda. The world she awoke to was a long way away from the one she left. Zia was more than happy to leave her name, despite it being the original, in the past. Despite her outward quiet demeanor, she has a lot of spunk.

Hyrule didn’t mind nesting with Zelda. The nest was fit for a princess—full of frothy lace and pretty little pillows and finger food for snacks. It wasn’t what the thrasher would have picked for comfort. But nesting meant he got to spend time with his friend and preen feathers. It also meant relaxing without fear of monsters.

Once Zia awoke, she and Zelda became close friends. When nesting season came, the two girls had each other. Hyrule doesn’t hold it against them; he was on the other side of Hyrule in the wilds at the time. Danger isn’t conducive to nesting and the traveler is often in danger.

His nesting instincts were slower to trigger than Wild and Legend’s were, but when they did, it was nearly dizzying. For the first time, he had pair birds to nest with! His own sub-flock to cuddle and preen with. A nest that was cozy for all of them and constant attention.

That’s as close as Hyrule’s ever gotten to experiencing perfect bliss. It’s also the source of near-constant fear. Nesting with his pair birds is an experience he never wants to give up. So, what happens when this journey ends and he’s pulled away? How does he go back to an empty world and live alone?

He can’t.

Hyrule’s fingers twitch, needing to preen feathers to calm down. Yet there are no wings to fill the need. Legend’s hair is a mess, though, and at least he can preen that. The vet’s hair is silky smooth between his fingers. It’s not fair; Hyrule’s curls like to resist a brush and tangle at the slightest hint of weather.

Wild’s hair will brush out soft and smooth, but he spends so much time darting through trees or climbing things that it’s always festooned with leaves and twigs. Sometimes he’ll take the time to clean it all out, brush and oil it, and twist it up in a fancy updo. The traveler keeps his jealousy to himself. He’s stuck with wavy curls.

Legend slowly wakes under his hands, grumbling and retreating deeper into the blanket until it pulls on his hair. Then he’s back out, blinking sleepy eyes and shooting Hyrule a dirty look.

“I was sleeping.”

“Your hair was tangled.”

“Then preen my wings!” There’s a pause as the reality of the situation catches up to the veteran. “…never mind. Wild, please tell me you have coffee going.”

“Piping hot and ready to go!” Wild holds up the cup with a grin.

Wolfie, no longer trapped in Legend’s clutches, lopes over to the magpie and sits next to him with a boof. Wild absently wraps an arm around his neck and scratches behind an ear. It’s unconscious—born out of familiarity with a traveling companion.

Hyrule is left alone on the bedding, trying to shove down the twisting feeling in his gut. It’s good for Wild to get used to Twilight, even if it’s as a wolf. He shouldn’t be scared around raptors.

But what if Hyrule is replaced with Twilight?

Read the rest here!

[crystallizedday]

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: THIS POST IS OUTDATED!! AN UPDATED RENDITION OF THE AU WILL BE HOPEFULLY POSTED SOON!!

Well

This idea has been in the works for long enough, so I think it’s about time I finally present it.

Fellas

The hyperfixation was too strong for me, and I decided to make something wonderful with it.

I present to all of you nutcases

SAMURAI JACK: DUO OF DOOM

An AU concept I’ve been refining for the past month or so that follows Demongo and Scaramouche as the main characters.

It takes place roughly a few decades after “Jack and the Baby,” but instead of following the timeline set up by season 5, I wanted to take the universe in a bit of a different direction

The AU is organized into 2 seasons, each having 13 episodes, JUST like the original show.

While not all 26 episodes have been fully fleshed out just yet, most of the crucial ones HAVE been, so I wish to share with you all what I have so far…

Season 1:

This season puts us in the shoes of Scaramouche, a full-time assassin looking to make it big.

While the job isn’t EXACTLY something he was passionate about, it pays the bills, so he decided not to be too choosy. He at least enjoys the fame that comes with it, even if his mechanical heart is still rooted in music.

However, he isn’t the only one looking to make it big in the assassination business.

There seems to be an entire group of assassins, a syndicate, who aren’t too happy about an “outsider” trudging through their terf, and they aim to put a stop to it.

While Scaramouche feels he is more than capable of handling these wannabes, one of his squabbles with them led to him stumbling upon a creature that proved to be quite a nuisance, a soul-eater who keeps swooping in and stealing his kills.

Even after the initial battle, this entity, Demongo, chooses to follow Scaramouche in his endeavors, certain that such a clumsy fool would lead the demon to more powerful warriors for him to imprison.

Episode 1 — After being cornered and losing the upper hand, Scaramouche is “saved” from being turned into scrap by Demongo, who steals the soul of the worn-out assassin to add to his ever-growing army.

Episode 2 — I don’t have anything specific planned for this episode outside of the two bickering for the majority of it and only coming to an agreement at the end of it: Demongo can take the souls of their bounties, and Scara will take the credit so he can get the money from it. Demmy doesn’t care about money anyway, so he’s fine with this outcome.

Episode 3 — While I don’t have the details down just yet, I have a few loose ideas for it. By now, Scara only has a boring-ass flute, a boring-ass scimitar, and a boring-ass knife, so Demmy decides to lead Scara to a place where he could get that pathetic little knife of his upgraded. I can see Demmy picking a fight when he shouldn’t have, almost getting his ass beat when Scara saves him (the guy helps rank in the money, so why let him get squashed?).

By the end of the episode, Scara is worn the fuck out, and immediately assumes his soul was gonna get snatched by Demmy cause of it… but it doesn’t happen. Instead, Demmy just tells him to suck it up so they could get a move on. They eventually get the knife upgraded, Demmy marveling on how delightfully destructive it is while Scara is still processing what happened earlier.

Demongo probably knew he could’ve easily taken Scara’s soul back there, but chose not to. Interesting…

Episode 4 — I don’t have anything for this episode yet.

Episode 5 — Ezekiel and Josephine Clench are the main antagonists of this episode, wanting to snatch a bounty from Scara and Demmy (the bounty probably being some poor passenger on a train, just so the setting can match the one the divorced couple originally appeared in). The only issue is Ezekiel and Josephine keep trying to betray the other to claim the bounty, which lead to both of their inevitable defeat. Even if they also have their disagreements, Scara and Demmy can at least recognize that working together certainly gave the two the upper hand, and squabbling like the Clenches was PROBABLY gonna get them killed as well. This is the point where the two start becoming decent friends.

Episode 6 — We get to see where exactly Scara has been crashing this whole time at the start of the episode, which is… a weirdly isolated lil home, something that certainly surprised Demongo, who assumed the big guy would be living a more social, lavish personal life. Regardless, since Demongo was entrusted to stay here to begin with, he decides to return the favor and try enchanting Scara’s scimitar to be a little more useful in battle, fucking up the entire thing thanks to Scaramouche running his mouth and scatting in the middle of all of it. The scimitar now only responds to his scatting SPECIFICALLY, which Scara doesn’t seem to mind, even if Demmy certainly does.

Ah, and this is also the episode featuring two of my ocs, Spunk and Clunk, twin robotic jesters working for the syndicate. They are mainly there to encourage the two knuckleheads to try combining their fighting styles to get the upper hand and catch their opponents off guard.

The two bots probably followed Demmy and Scara, but instead of reporting back to the syndicate on their whereabouts, they decide to confront the two bozos, confident they could take the demon and the inferior model down. The two jesters work in perfect harmony, mirroring each other’s moves. Acrobatics is the name of the game for them, making them extremely hard to hit. Demmy and Scara decide to combine their fighting styles to take these two clowns down. Fittingly enough, the scimitar deals the final blow to the last jester standing, making Demongo glad he at least got the enchantment to work at all.

Episode 7 — This is a “filler” episode where Scara decides to take Demongo with him to a shopping district to spend some extra cash they snagged. This is where Demongo has his first outfit change (since Scaramouche was not letting this fucker walk another step wearing nothing but a vampire cape). This is also where Demongo gets properly acquainted with modern society for the first time, since bro knows jack-shit about it thanks to “growing up” in the Pit of Hate. Needless to say, bro quickly finds out he has a really intense sweet tooth. KWMSOSMDOXKDOCK

The plot kicks in when Demmy spots something that catches his eye, a cute lil amulet with a gorgeous labradorite gemstone encased within it (both cause it’s my favorite gemstone of all time and cause of the common meanings behind the gemstone itself… cause I’m a fucking nerd KAKAOSMOSMD).

Scara takes notice and decides to purchase the lil thing for Demmy, just cause. Plus, with the amulet itself being advertised as a sort of “good luck” charm that’s supposed to provide clarity and “good vibes”, I’m sure Scara would jokingly justify the purchase by saying it sounds like the perfect gift for the lil fiery fella KWWKOSMSODMDODM

Considering Demmy is not exaclty familiar with the concept of doing nice things just because, he is absolutely baffled by this, which is VERY clear in his unusually timid voice when he tries to speak in this instance. He asks what Scara wants in return, thinking there’s strings attached, but Scara’s like “Oh, you don’t need to get lil ol me anything for this. Consider it as a thank you gift for being an excellent work partner!”

Needless to say, Demmy is absolutely puzzled by this, not understanding why Scara would waste money on him for something this minute.

Throughout the rest of the episode, Demmy holds on to the lil thing like it’s his god damn lifeline, finding it too important to not keep close, even if he doesn’t exactly know why.

Eventually, Scara needs to go take care of something (probably talk to an old friend perhaps) and lets Demmy wander the district on his own while he’s gone, trusting he’d stay out of trouble…

Demmy soon ends up in a squabble, most likely a casual passerby at the shopping district who can fairly hold their own in a tussle. Perhaps Demmy bumped into him without looking and Demmy, not being too great with people, said the wrong shit and escalated the situation.

This squabble gradually escalates until the amulet is knocked out of Demmy’s grasp, causing the gem to fall out of its casing.

While no real damage is visible, Demmy believes this meant the poor thing was broken.

And while even he can’t understand why

This causes Demongo to snap

Tearing the poor guy a new one.

And I’m not talking about bro summoning warriors to do his dirty work, no.

Demmy TEARS through this guy, going full-on cat mode on this guy KQNWKSMSODMDODM

This absolutely gets the attention of others around him, which probably gets Scara’s attention as bro has to race back and pull Demmy out of there to calm him down.

After the guy Demmy attacked runs off (probably scared shitless at this point), Scara advices that the two bounce before they get in even more trouble. Demmy scoops back up the labradorite and the amulet casing and follows Scara out of there.

On their way back to Scara’s place, they talk about what happened on the way back, the big guy surprisingly being pretty interested in how impressive Demmy’s own strength and drive back there was, noting how he’s never seen the lil guy fight that passionately before.

Demmy is even unsure of what got into him, feeling embarrassed when admitting he only snapped after that lil amulet broke, feeling ridiculous for being so attached to something so trivial.

Scara felt a lil touched Demmy liked the gift that much, and reassured Demmy that the amulet wasn’t broken, taking the casing and gem from Demmy so he could manually place the gemstone back in, noting how it might need some further reinforcement to keep the lil gem in there this time around.

This definitely made Demmy feel a lil stupid, absolutely exploding over something that wasn’t even broken, but Scara shrugs the ordeal off, saying it was at least nice to see Demmy had a lot of fight in him that he could potentially refine for future confrontations.

Scara also notes how it was a miracle the gem itself didn’t even scratch after falling out of its casing, calling it a “tough lil guy” for making it out unscathed, which gets a laugh out of Demmy for sure.

I like to think that like

To close off the episode, after realizing Demmy most likely isn’t used to receiving shit out of pure kindness, Scara jokingly says something like “Guess I’ll have to get you more stuff in the future so it’s not as foreign of a concept. Spoil you a bit, maybe,” and the two have a good laugh at it.

Just some cute shit that hints at their growing relationship.

Episode 8 — The two are looking to find a way to enchant Scara’s prized flute as well so it can be used in battle. In trying to find the right place to get it enchanted (since Demmy doesn’t trust himself to not fuck shit up again after last time), they find themselves being stalked by someone hired by the syndicate to get rid of them. I like to think this mysterious person is Mira, the Princess looking to free her people. Perhaps she was promised a way to help her people by the head-honcho of the syndicate. Really, I just wanna use as many og characters as I can and make sure they’re used in meaningful ways... oh and the flute does get enchanted at the end. Forgot to mention that.

Episode 9 — This is another filler episode, cause I like the idea of Scara teaching Demmy how to properly dance and I wanna see that shit happen. I’m sure Demmy will find a way to make use of that talent in battle. At this point, the two have become VERY close, and Demmy has let himself loosen up quite a bit. I have nothing else figured out about this episode.

Perhaps this episode can introduce another member of the syndicate, but I don’t have a design or even concept for em in mind, so uh… :p

Episode 10 — This is a funny fuckin idea. Thanks to alcohol being flammable, I can absolutely see Demongo being a lightweight, so I’m thinking Scara makes the terrible mistake of taking Demmy to a tavern (probably the same tavern Da Samurai was seen in all those years ago). Thanks to his intoxication, Demmy gets the two of them in a shit-ton of trouble... There’s definitely a bar fight scene here, cause I think they’re funny.

I AM considering throwing a lil curveball in here at some point. Y’all familiar with the idea of being intoxicated makes ya more susceptible to talking about things and thoughts that you’d normally keep under wraps? I’m thinking about applying that here, where at the end of the episode, Demmy (still very much intoxicated) out of nowhere asks Scara why the big guy is being so damn nice to him. He asks this not just because the two were not on the best of terms just a few months ago, but also because he is under the mindset that he needs to repay that kindness, a mindset that came about due to working under Aku (even if Aku’s “kindness” more so comes in the form of being allowed to live or be apart of his higher ranks and shit). He starts rambling about how he feels he can never fully repay that kindness and is stressed the fuck out about it. Of course, Scara reassures him that he doesn’t need to repay shit, and he chooses to be nice to him cause he likes hanging out with the lil guy. Saying this confuses Demmy is an understatement, but Scara tells em that they’ll properly talk about it once bro is actually sober. The episode ends with Scara taking him back home (probably carrying him cause I like being self indulgent like that IWNWKWMWOSKSOS).

Episode 11 — The episode starts out with Demongo attempting to play Scaramouche’s flute, and failing miserably. Since Demmy does not have ANY experience with modern media, Scara decided it would be a funny idea to take the lil shit to go see a movie. Unfortunately, Demmy doesn’t understand when to keep his mouth shut and ends up getting the both of them kicked out afterwards. This doesn’t bother the lil shit though as he starts laying out how he would’ve written such a thing, seeing the original piece of work as a “flawed, uninspired mess” and such. However, he accidentally lets a few things slip, such as his questionable stance on authority and his fear of failure. Before Scara can ask about any of this, the two of them realize that Demmy no longer had Scara’s flute, losing it at some point. Demmy, in an extremely vulnerable state, zips off in a panic, but is quickly found again by Scara, who talks with him about what’s going on.

This is where the real meat of Demmy’s character gets revealed (even if hints of it have certainly popped up here and there in the past). He reveals how he was sent back to the Pit of Hate to be punished after failing to kill Samurai Jack. He was only able to leave once he regained the strength to bust out of there himself, and fears what his ex-master would think if he ever found out about this… which is something that Scara isn’t sure how to feel about, especially since he’s been wanting to climb the ranks to get Aku’s attention ever since he became an assassin.

Demmy feared being punished for slipping up yet again, letting down another individual he admittedly looked up to. TLDR, bro is NOT doing okay, and Scara decides to comfort the lil guy. Once Demmy is able to pick himself back up, the two try to head back to the theater when another character stops them. This fella (definitely an oc I need to design) appears to be a fellow music-lover, and (not recognizing who these two were) decided to return the flute to its rightful owner. The fella decides to let the two know about this one village where hundreds of people gather to party and dance and shit, thinking the two would be interested, which leads us to…

Episode 12 — The rave episode. This is where shit gets FUNKY… and extremely self-indulgent.

Donning some flashier outfits, Scara and Demmy decide to head to this “rave” to see what it’s all about, just cause. However, throughout most of the episode, Demmy struggles to tell Scara something and does not know how to approach him about it.

The details here get a lil fuzzy since I haven’t really mapped out how the middle section of the episode goes, but eventually, a few assassins from the syndicate track the two down and attempt to be rid of them once and for all, but with all the bright lights and dancers about, it makes things more difficult than they wanted it to be.

Eventually, the assassins get their chance to attack, but the duo handle the situation with ✨style✨, and it’s only NOW when Demongo finally musters up the courage to confess to Scara (via gestures, since Demmy couldn’t find the words for it and ultimately just said “fuck it”). Scara reciprocates the gesture, but advised that the two of them take care of the dudes trying to kill them first before talking about the subject any further, which Demmy agreed on.

Once that’s all said and done, the episode ends with the two heading home, taking a moment to talk about what they are now and where do they go from here.

I don’t care how self-indulgent this is, but RIGHT as the episode’s about to conclude, I can see the two sharing their first kiss!

Look

I’m shipping trash.

This was inevitable WJJWJWSNWIKSOSMS

Ah, and one more thing.

When Demmy tries to confess to Scara, HE doesn’t know what he’s confessing to.

All HE knows is that Scara makes him the happiest he’s ever been in his lifetime, and he wanted to find the right opportunity to open up about it.

It isn’t until Scara straight up tells Demmy what those feelings mean when Demmy finally understands he’s been crushing on the big guy this entire time…

And how Scara could tell for a while since Demongo is NOT good at outwardly hiding those feelings KANWKSMOSNDKXNCON

I like to think even though Scara felt the same, he wanted to wait for Demmy to come out and say it first… which technically did happen, just not the way Scara expected OWMWOSMWODMSOKDON

It sounds cheesy, but I like the idea of Demmy at first not knowing what these emotions were all about and what they meant cause well

I’ve experienced that shit before

And I thought such a thing was too cute NOT to find an excuse to use it in my writing at some point OWMWKWMWOMCODCODNVOFM

Anyway uh

Small tangent over.

Episode 13 — I WISH I had a fully fleshed out version of this episode prepared, but at the moment, all I know for certain is that this is where the two finally decide to face off against the heart of the syndicate and get these guys off their back once and for all, thus allowing them to take the title of the world’s greatest assassins… by technicality.

Perhaps the two go after a fake bounty and walk right into a trap, being taken to the whereabouts of the big boss himself (who I see as this round alien slug lookin guy with robotic crab legs, probably with the overall build of the spider boss guy from Monsters Inc.).

Maybe the big guy offers Scara to betray Demmy and join the syndicate, promising the tin can a financially stable life where he will never be looked down by others again. Not only does Scara refuse for Demmy’s sake, but calls out how the big guy could’ve given Demmy a similar offer, either because he fears what the soul collector is capable of…

Or because he wants to turn Demmy in to Aku.

And Scara was NOT having that,

The two fight side by side, taking down hordes of fighters until one of ‘em can get a good hit on the big boss and leave him defenseless, Demmy being given the honor to do the final blow with the scimitar… with Scara’s help since that shit is heavy as fuck.

The two definitely celebrate like a bunch of dorks at the end of it, acting like they just didn’t murder dozens and dozens of people LWMWKSMEODKODFKOFMFKML

At the very least, this victory meant these guys wouldn’t be bothering the two of em anymore…

Season 2:

A few months have passed since the last episode as the two start to adjust to their new life as a couple.

The start of this season focuses on the two retrieving the old souls Demongo had lost during his first battle with Samurai Jack, the two eventually deciding to seek out the samurai so they can defeat him once and for all.

But things do not go as planned, especially since Demongo is still hesitant about immediately going back to serving his old master.

Episode 14 — The season starts out in the perspective of two demons working under Aku as his form of law enforcement. These two had just gotten word of Demongo’s recent activity, desperate to capture him and return him to the Pit of Hate. After all, these two demons were THE guards originally assigned to keep an eye on Demongo when facing his eternal punishment, but had been too negligent and let him slip away. They never informed Aku of this fact, fearing what the big guy would do to the two of them if he knew that one of his most dangerous minions was on the loose.

The two demons frantically ask around to see if anyone has seen that deity trouble-maker, but no one can give them any leads.

This leads to a cute lil scene transition where one of the demons goes “Where could that forsaken traitor be??” only for the episode to immediately cut to Demmy and Scara waking up together with the most wholesome domestic vibes you can think of OWMWKWMKWSMOSMSOSMDODMD

After a cute lil morning routine segment, the two knuckleheads head off to find themselves another bounty, only to stumble across quite the scenario. The Titan Demongo once controlled has been running amok in a populated area, and while Scara and Demmy initially did not care to take care of it (assuming Jack would come in to save the day), when the beast kept raging on with no one else stepping up to the challenge, the two decide to take care of this beast before it causes any more problems. Plus, Demmy could really use the extra strength provided by such a beast. After all, in this universe, Demmy can harness the strength and abilities of the souls he collects, a power that will come in handy down the road…

Curious as to why Jack did not arrive to the scene, the two decide to make it their mission to find Samurai Jack for themselves, actively seeking out people who might know a thing or two and interrogating them on the subject.

Episode 15 — The duo seek out the four distinct souls that Demongo used to fight Samurai Jack all those years ago: the knight, the white tiger, the four-armed warrior, and the black samurai. None of them no longer being in their prime certainly made defeating them rather easy, even if each of them had their own special… quirks that delayed the inevitable…

Like the knight guy. I wanna give him Don Quixote vibes.

Episode 16 — I have nothing planned for this episode at the moment.

Episode 17 — I only have the main idea for this episode thought out, which is how the two come across the three singing sirens that once hypnotized Jack long ago. However, their singing does not work.

Why?

Because this version of Demongo is absolutely gay, and Scaramouche (despite being pan) is far too prideful in his own singing to fall for somebody else’s.

And this pisses the sirens OFF.

Episode 18 — I’m not sure EXACTLY how I want this episode to go, but all I know is that THIS is where the two find the Scotsman along with his… INCREDIBLY large family, and decide to fight him to interrogate him on the whereabouts of Jack.

I want the Scotsman to survive this fight, so I’m thinking what happens is his daughters (who are like… still VERY young at this point) enter the fight as well to protect their father against his own wishes (and perhaps the others in his clan also chime in), forcing Scara and Demongo to retreat… but not without at least a LITTLE bit of vital info as to where Jack could be (even if I’m unsure what it would be just yet).

Episode 19 — This episode is a bit of a parody of the “Jack and the Baby” episode. The duo stumble across a random-ass baby and, despite Demongo being so incredibly disgusted by it, Scara does not have the heart to abandon the poor thing, so they keep the lil thing until they can find someone else who will take care of it for them.

Needless to say, neither of these nutcases should be fathers.

… also, the father of the baby is DEFINITELY the grown up baby from the ORIGINAL “Jack and the Baby” episode.

Cause that shit’s funny.

Episode 20 — This is where shit hits the fan.

The two find Samurai Jack, but he’s barely recognizable. Age has certainly taken a toll on his physical appearance, and he has dressed himself in armor that made it almost impossible to tell it was him.

Before the three fight, Demongo notices how “the fire in his soul had dwindled” since the last time the demon has faced off against him. This made Scaramouche realize that Jack’s sword was nowhere to be seen, and while he and Demongo at first suspected he was simply hiding the sword, they eventually put two and two together to figure out Jack no longer had the sword. However, even though Scara wanted the details on what exactly happened (so he can make fun of Jack for it), Jack attacks, starting the fight.

At some point during the battle, Scara gets badly wounded, and Demongo stops fighting to try and patch him up the best he can. This surprises Jack, not knowing a demon like Demongo could express such concern for another living being like this. Of course, Demmy is incredibly offended by this assumption.

However, Jack then proposes something. He tells the two how they may put themselves in danger by taking him out and submitting to Aku. Scara brushes it off at first, but Demongo…

Knowing what would happen if either of them ever failed Aku again…

Demongo hears Jack out, fearing what Aku would do to Scaramouche in a worse case scenario.

Jack offers the two the chance to take his side, to stop Aku once and for all.

While Jack does not have his sword (as it got destroyed at some point, much like in the comic), he has been searching for decades for a way to get it back, and is confident Demongo could help in some way.

Scara refuses at first, finding disgust in the idea of working with a guy that wants to erase centuries-worth of history and everyone in it just to save whatever the past was like for him.

But Demmy quietly proposes to Scara that they simply get rid of Aku first, then Jack. Scara is still confused as to why he of all people would want to side with Jack, and while Demongo despises the idea as well… he simply cannot trust his old master to not harm Scaramouche in the future.

The two decide to take Jack’s deal, even if they’re not entirely happy about it.

Episode 21 — The daughters of Aku make an appearance in this episode, but instead of being nine twins, almost all of them are from different mothers, all training under the head cultist to become stronger. Only two of them are twins that came from the head cultist: Ashi and Aki. They are the youngest of the nine, and by that I mean they are actually just children that are being indoctrinated to be merciless warriors. The other sisters are much older and have heavily-varying body types to make them a little more distinct from one another, and in accordance to their signature weapons. The weapons themselves are actually why Ashi and Aki are twins, since they wield the same weapon in canon. None of them have the essence of Aku in them because that whole plot point is just plain silly to me and causes WAY too many plot holes for my liking.

Meanwhile, Jack has recruited the Scotsman to help the gang out, and the big guy is NOT happy to be working with the two assassins that tried to kill him… ESPECIALLY Demongo.

I’ve been looking into the topic of the fae recently, and I thought it would be a funny nod to its lore for the Scotsman to genuinely think Demongo was part of the fae and insult him as such, which Demmy take GREAT offense to.

What none of them realize is that there was someone else following the group in secret, which turns out to be one of Scotsman’s daughters, Flora. Despite not even being a teenager yet, she still had the fiery fighting spirit of her father, and wished to be sure her father would be safe from the goons that attacked him before. Of course, she tries to ensure her father doesn’t suspect her presence, knowing he’d disapprove of her risking her own life for his sake.

However, the main gang’s squabbling is interrupted when the daughters and the head cultist arrive, the latter being there to personally ensure the death of the samurai.

While Jack handled the head cultist and the duo handled most of the daughters, the Scotsman found himself up against the two youngest twins, who he just did not have the heart to fight, even if the two were more than willing to tear him apart.

This is when Flora makes her presence known, defending her father from the twins, much to Scotsman’s disapproval. However, seeing someone their age fight for someone she deeply cares about, the twins start to reconsider their alliance. Scotsman actively telling his daughter how he refuses to let her fight and get herself hurt is the final nail in the coffin for the twins, since their own mother was not nearly as considerate. This is where they start asking questions, such as why would the Scotsman refuse to let his child fight in battle and such, all culminating to the big guy letting the fatherly instincts kick in and deciding he was going to be a MUCH better parent to these two than the head cultist ever was… much to Flora’s displeasure.

By the time this is said and done, the other three have taken care of the of the daughters and the head cultist, Jack wishing they could’ve found a way to get through to the other daughters as well… but Demongo immediately dismisses that thought.

The demon at LEAST tries to butter up the Scotsman and try to make a proper alliance, but the big guy still hates his guts, deciding to take Flora and his new daughters home… especially since the former was MOST DEFINITELY grounded for that little stunt she pulled.

I can see Demongo just shrugging it off, telling Jack “Well, you can’t say I didn’t TRY” cause I feel like he’d rub it in Jack’s face how him trying to be nice for once absolutely failed KWMWKWMWOSMWOD

Episode 22 — Scara, Demmy, and Jack come across an old house seemingly in the middle of nowhere, most of which being covered in a botanical mess of plants and vines and shit. They were going to ignore it when Scaramouche felt interested in investigating the residence, and so the three proceeded inside the home.

While they dig deeper and deeper into the home, Scara keeps getting brief and vague flashbacks to something, but he can’t quite remember the details too well. It’s only when he alone eventually discovers the miniature lab underneath the home when his memories become active again (ya know… like a computer booting up old videos and shit).

He starts remembering the first few moments of becoming active, with his creator welcoming him into a world. As present Scara starts going back to all the weird shit the three of them found, he starts to recover more and more memories, up until he recalls his creator’s last words to him. Present Scara stops to stare at a broken window, a piece of cloth still being stuck in one of the many shards. Judging from the barely visible insignia featured on it, it appeared to have once belonged to one of the members of the syndicate from season one.

His creator had a bounty on his head.

Demongo has been asking if Scara was alright throughout the entire ordeal, but ultimately, Scara simply tells him that this place just reminded him of some simple, distant memories. Demmy, while still suspecting something major was up and thus trying to be as supportive as he can, accepts the explanation for now.

Before they depart, Jack eventually chimes in to ask if Scara knew what this place was and who used to live here, the big guy eventually replying with “No.”

Episode 23 — The episode starts with Jack briefly parting ways with the duo so he can get some answers as to how he can either return or replace his sword. Since Demmy and Scara weren’t too fond of going on such a boring journey, they’re happy to stay behind. After Jack wanders about, coming across all sorts of oddities (like maybe stumbling across the Grim Reaper, the one from Billy and Mandy making a brief cameo thanks to how THAT universe is seemingly connected to all other CN properties). Eventually, he stumbles across the portal guardian, who has grown old and frail, but NOT from proper aging. He tells Jack about how “the timeline has shifted”, and how he can no longer see into the future like he used to. He is uncertain of what will happen next, and tells Jack to be careful, for nothing is certain anymore. Jack returns to Demmy and Scara, who SEEMINGLY have just been goofing off for the entire episode. Jack is absolutely traumatized by what he just witnessed… but decides it’s not worth talking to these two about it. Plus, the two don’t seem to care anyway.

Episode 24 — This episode starts with the EXACT same setup as episode 23, but instead of focusing on Jack’s perspective, it focuses on Scara and Demmy’s perspective. After the two have some silly banter, Demmy decides to talk about his “upbringing” and how he is quite literally the only one of his “species” due to how his creation required not only PLENTY of resources, but also VERY precise conditions. He throws some little nuggets of information in there, like how he is basically made entirely of carbon, more so than any human or similar organic creature. Scara is fascinated by this, but gets a curveball thrown at him when Demmy asks about HIS creation.

At first, Scara is VERY but hesitant, but eventually gives in and tells Demmy about his background, his creator, and even the last conversation the two of them had. Demmy is quite fascinated by the idea of Scara seeing the old man as “his dad”, especially since Demmy himself doesn’t have any equivalent to that. Can’t have a parental figure if you’re just a weird creature that just POPPED out of the ground one day. However, Scara reassured him that it probably was for the best the small demon never had a parental figure.

He tells the lil guy about how his old man wanted the big fella to live a good life, and he good to others in turn… and feels a bit gross knowing that he eventually turned to the same kind of job that got the poor old man killed, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. Even if Demmy is not the best with comforting (in fact, I’d wager he’s typically kind of shit at it), he tries reassuring the big guy that the two of them are at LEAST doing some good NOW. Even so, Scara knows all this was just temporary, and admits he is a little afraid of trying to start a clean life if they were to ever take down Aku.

Demmy, who had once thrived off of the idea of being a menace to others, decided he was willing to at least attempt to be better if it meant helping his big tin can partner out, which is something even Scara is surprised to see, but he doesn’t reject the idea. Ultimately, the two decide to try and “wing it”, see where this plan to take down Aku goes. The two start gushing about one another when Jack finally returns, which mirrors how the previous episode ended. Neither party knows what just happened, nor do they care to tell each other.

Episode 25 — I’m not entirely sure what this episode will entail either, but I’m at least certain it will involve Jack gaining “his sword” back, or at least a spiritual rendition of it, much like what happened in the comics. However, this alone would not defeat Aku once and for all, and Jack knew that well, so he still trusted Demmy and Scara to help him take down the big guy for good.

Episode 26 — This is the episode where the big fight with Aku happens.

I dunno how it starts, but I sure as hell know how it ends.

While the three are able to decently weaken Aku, they are unable to do the finishing blow. The battle keeps going, wearing out the three while Aku keeps on fighting.

However, due to Aku’s weakened state, Demongo gets an idea, a DANGEROUS idea.

He decides to try and take the essence of Aku himself, which

To everyone’s surprise

Actually works!

An Aku-shaped skull forms on Demongo’s chest, solidifying his control over his former master.

While Jack is hesitant as to what Demongo would do next, one of the first things Demmy does is harness Aku’s powers to provide a portal into the past, offering Jack a chance to go back into the past and right Aku’s wrongs. Despite it being the main theme of the original show, Jack refuses, choosing to stay in the present and help the people that still needed his aid here.

Demongo was extremely relieved to hear that, not only cause he didn’t want to risk himself and Scara being erased from existence, but also because Demmy KNEW someone was going to have to take Aku’s place as ruler, and he… weirdly didn’t want that.

The old Demongo would have dreamed of this day to come, but not THIS Demongo. He just wanted to live a simple-ish life with Scara, finally feeling content with himself.

Eventually, the two make a deal.

Due to Demongo having Aku’s essence, he would become the new public figure, donning a new emperor outfit & everything. However, he alone would not be the one to make the big decisions and shit.

He of course had Scara, who he’d ensure would live a more comfortable life by his side, but he didn’t wanna put any kind of pressure on the big guy to help him out.

No.

That kinda power would be put in Jack’s hands.

After all, he IS the son of the original emperor.

Despite this, Jack spends most of his time traveling the land and helping those in need, ensuring peace throughout the world…

…

Also, if there would be any kind of epilogue of sorts, it would DEFINITELY involve the two dorks getting married, because I’m based like that. :))) KWMWKWMWOSM

Alrighty!!

Now that the entire AU’s basic outline is out of the way, I wanna share some art I made exclusively for this AU so far!

First off, since I plan for Demongo to have alternative outfits as the story progresses, I made 3 additional default outfits for him to don.

All three of these outfits were initially designed by @tigerarainbowra-blog while I only tweaked them a bit, so you can thank her for these AWESOME outfits!

This one with the BEEG shoulder pad jackets is a favorite of mine (making its initial appearance in the rave episode), and is definitely the one bro is seen the MOST in throughout the entire AU.

Meanwhile, this last one is only seen halfway into season 2 once he gets used to being around Jack.

Scaramouche also had alternative outfits as well, but I haven’t gotten around to designing them just yet, so :p

Aside from additional outfits, I also have whipped up some designs for some original characters that’ll appear in this AU!

These two, Spunk and Clunk (named by the lovely @aceofcards0715 ), were heavily inspired by the two jester robots seen in the GBA game “Samurai Jack: Amulet of Time”.

The diamonds on their arms are supposed to be in relation to the syndicate, even if I haven’t quite figured out the details or it yet.

I was fascinated by just how similar these two looked compared to Scaramouche, so I doubled down on that idea.

You can see these guys as like

Newer models that were created using the same schematics for Scaramouche himself.

Cause I’m sure those schematics are out there SOMEWHERE…

Speaking of Scaramouche, I felt like giving the fella a BIT of a backstory, so I decided that instead of, say, being created by a bunch of evil scientists…

He was instead built by a retired one, who left once he had enough of the twisted work Aku put him through.

He is where Scaramouche gets a lot of his more humane quirks, even if the big guy doesn’t really remember his creator all too well.

The details are fuzzy…

Tigera also was the one to originally make Fern’s design.

Honestly, she’s been a BIG help with this AU, both with the designs and the episodes themselves, I couldn’t thank her enough for it!

Go check her out if you haven’t already! She’s SUPER talented!

Anyway

I have plenty of more original characters I want to properly flesh out, and a lot of new designs for some familiar faces (since this AU DOES take place a few decades after season 4 of the original series), so this will NOT be the last time you hear about this AU.

Oh no…

THIS is just the BEGINNING…

Although, please do keep in mind that this is just a concept I made for funsies, so I don’t plan on actually doing anything BIG with it.

Additionally, some details are subject to change…

HOWEVER, despite all of that, I hope what I CAN provide is still overall engaging!

I MIGHT just write out some of these episodes in the future, if I can garner the motivation for it…

For now though, I hope you all enjoyed this brief lil glimpse into the funni shit that occupies my brain on a daily basis! KWNWKWMWOSMOSDM

[ts2cambremon]

Ferenia: Is it true that lord Ren's never touched her? Ha! He's usually not choosy either *giggle*

Serf Janviya: Didn't you once have an affair with him?

Ferenia: *oblivious to Janviya* What a shame, he has no love to spare for her after spending all this time in his room with Kadja.

Serf Janviya: The Intendant?!

Ferenia: Oops, did I say too much? I really hope Galina doesn't find out. I'm sure it would crush her.

*soft gasp coming from behind the door*

Ferenia: Well, I better be off. Give my love to Galina. The poor girl needs it.

[baatarthefirst]

❛ a golden cage is still just a cage ❜

The thieving do-gooders had a rather standard tradgic backstory. Their mother had died due to birthing complications, their father left them early as well. They couldn't live without getting a job, and no one would hire them because they were too young. Sarai started stealing to feed her little sister.

As they grew up, they got better. Better at stealing, better at escaping, better at fighting and better at...seducing. They'd gotten to a point where they could be choosy about who they stole from, making sure to only steal from those who could afford it and probably deserved it anyway. They grew to be masters at the art of theft. They also grew to be beautiful. Sometimes they barely had to cause an uproar at all. While one sister would seduce the local governor's teenaged sons and daughters, the other would steal a few mid-level valuables. Little things that would hardly make a splash; the Lady/Lordship would hardly miss them. And even if they did, what would their kids do, say 'We were robbed because I gave the key to a beautiful girl who let her sister in when I wasn't looking'? No, they almost always kept their mouths clamped. Between these scams and a few odd jobs, they were doing well enough to give some back, and take in the kids that fell through the cracks like them.

By their early twenties, the business grew. They'd built up a following of kind like-minded citizen allies, as well as a vast network of spies, smugglers, petty thieves, con artists and tradesmen to outsmart the rich to help the less fortunate. The upper class was finally starting to figure out that if they didn't want to be robbed or conned, all they need to do is see that the people under their protection were well-cared for. It would be cheaper than losing everything to them.

It was going good until King Harrow gave away too much of the kingdom's food, then failed save them through that 'secret mission' to Xadia. A projected fifty-thousand people would starve that winter. Sarai and Amaya had always been daring, and since Xadia was the land of riches, they took a little team and snuck across the boarder to steal as much as they could.

There they found plants so warm they grew despite the cold and they stole an entire crop in one night; some of their finest work, if the sisters did say so themselves. They sent it off to Katolis to be distributed to the poor who couldn't afford the already astronomical price of food. Then they found rubies that radiated heat, they swiped those and sent them to trusted allies who would use them to warm soil and start community gardens. There were so many things in Xadia that could solve Katolis' hunger issue if used with intelligence and compassion.

But they'd caught the attention of the elves. No problem, they were underestimated and slipped through the elvish fingers. Until the fiery redhead came along. Their motives of stealing to feed starving people moved their captor, but not her big sister, the queen. She went on and on about the disgusting humans and did not take kindly to Sarai's question 'So what would you do if the tables were turned, watch people starve because elves are too 'good' to steal?'.

They escaped, but circumstances forced Sarai and Amaya to hide...and apparently they chose the queen's chambers to do so. They tied her up and waited, surprising the queen by only stealing the rubies in her lamps before leaving her unharmed.

The stealing still continued, they were caught several times throughout the winter, the queen seemed more and more aggravated with them; with Sarai specifically. While Amaya was a funny smartass who made the princess snort more than once (of course Amaya didn't have a crush on her...of course not), Sarai challenged the queen; made her think. She also may have seduced her during a private interrogation. A new step was added to the cycle; steal, get captured, indulge in the queen's guilty pleasure, escape. Repeat.

Sarai had snuck through a hidden door to Khessa's chambers, one thing led to another, as usual. As usual the queen got what she wanted, then threatened to execute the human as she redressed. The thief could only laugh at her, calling her bluff.

"You like having a taste of freedom too much for that, Sunshine." She said as she toyed with a strand of hair. Khessa huffed, maneuvering her golden locks out of Sarai's fingers.

"I am free, you are my prisoner."

"Dear Queen," Sarai kissed a bare shoulder, "I am freer now than you will ever be. Your surroundings may be nicer than my camp, but a golden cage is still just a cage." 

"Get. Out." Khessa ordered with venom. A pretty standard way for Sarai to get dismissed.

"Until next time, Queen Khessa." She bowed and took her leave, but not before taking a ruby from the lamp on the way out.

[altocat]

How would Cloud be as Sephiroth's apprentice? The poor baby would be starstruck and terrified!

With all those soldiers deserting and SOLDIER itself in tatters following the Genesis rebellion, I'd think their selection methods are a lot less choosy. To the point where, in order to increase their numbers in SOLDIER so it isn't just Zack and Seph running around, they start plucking randos from the infantry.

Thus, Sephiroth is reluctantly assigned Cloud (especially after Zack puts in a good word for him!) and has to tolerate mentoring until Cloud actually proves to be useful. But while they both are very messily-matched at the beginning and Sephiroth is way too hard on him, they eventually come together. Sephiroth is a strict mentor, but ultimately a capable one. And Cloud comes to adore him in ways that go beyond fanboying. If anything, Cloud comes to understand Sephiroth more than anyone else, and is a great comfort to Sephiroth after the losses of Angeal and Genesis.

[acetechne]

Condensed Milk - A Dirty Money Comic pt 12

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] epilogue: [part 11] [ x ] [part 13] [part 14] [part 15]

I DIDN’t FORGET I DIDN’T and there’s at least one more page and its like 75% scripted... okay.

I’ve been stressed for reasons both in and out of my control and now i am less stressed so I am drawing this again :D

what is there to say about the page........ blue sky bertie strikes back. or he would be striking back if i drew him as much as i do poor little meow meow bertie.. but anyway, enjoy!

Notes as i think of them below

- as i mentioned bertie is perfectly capable of being friendly and charming and hospitable, its just my fault for enjoying drawing him as a brat the most. despite being his VA i actually overthink how to write his dialogue sometimes- I tend to think of an Alberta Accent (tm) - to some degree including my own - is kind of terse. I feel it would be weird for him to speak in too many complete sentences in a row, lol, and even when he’s being polite he’s a little choosy/stingy with his words.

- I also think he has a very particular mental idea of what he Means that it’s your fault if you didn’t understand, i.e. he Means whale watching in either ocean is a Different Experience but not realizing what he is implying is that one is Better. He may be economical with his words but it doesn’t mean he puts thought into them lol.

- I think Annie struggles between projecting someone who is polite and very aware of decorum (hence ben bringing out the nice cups and saucers) and also being hot tempered, nosy, and bossy, lol.

- Song Ben is singing is Up All Night by Derina Harvey Band

- forget if i mentioned, the flower on the cups is the pitcher plant (provincial flower of Newfoundland) and the panel where Bertie is dunking his shortbread features wild roses. the rest are just decorative flowers.

- he gives a damn about whales because ben took him to Between Breaths and made him cry

- forgot to put milk on the coffee table OH WELL!!!!!!!!!!!

[ravenouswreckage]

What kind of things are they into?

"Well, the standard of beauty is to be large and heavy and well-muscled... Which is not too hard for most, when they show an interest in myself, though I have been known to be choosy about such things. I do have the pick of whoever I like, after all! Nor am I hurting for potentiates, and making them line up next to each other or force them to chase me or to encourage them using their strength and their size to fight each other is very entertaining. Certainly it is an excellent way to get myself warmed up, if they know very well what they are doing.

But I do take great appeal in landfolk too! They are delightfully soft to the touch, and warm, and the sensation of fur across their body is greatly valued in of itself... I like that their hands are dexterous and small, and I like the... mammalian-ness of them, I suppose?

It is hard to explain. I do not imagine you would have the same struggle to describe it, as you certainly are not operating off of the usual cultural background. But you would not be likely to be asked in the first place either, regardless.

Worse yet, I do not imagine most would understand any decent degree of quality control. This, I have noticed, has pained more landfolk than my own people, but my people do understand that I am not hurting for choices, nor am I shy about taking what pleases me. It is about being best of the best, you see. Nor merely what lies before me, but that which is excellent, that which is prime, the apex of all that has led up to it and everything that will come after. Which is to say, I am not satisfied with paltry specimens, nor anyone not willing to put their whole self forward into such things."

She clenches her hand together, then unclenches, flexing her fingers so that her thumbs fit in between her three digits to form a perfect cage. It matches the way her head is leaned off to the side, staring absentmindedly at some far wall, showing off the curvature of her neck.

It's hard for her to answer this, for multiple reasons. There's a clear image in her mind of what she likes, even loves, the lines traced between her favorites that she returns to, but it's not something that can exist in words, not something she could roll around on her tongue if she tried. She is trying. As evidenced by what she's managing to get out, it's not helping.

And, worse yet, she will not be so frank about her own attraction in the same words as the landfolk who ask her for it. She knows she will not. It was a lesson that has been ingrained in her, and it will continue to be until Miranda herself stops existing, and then it will find another poor soul to teach. That's risky. There are risks to be taken here, and, yes, she knows her kingdom is not listening so intently right now, but since when has that ever been an excuse to get out of habit? Her mind buckles against the thought, against anything that might clearly show her hand, and so she returns to the usual, the apt, the frustration that sinks its teeth into her mind.

"No... No, I think most are not adequate. Disappointing, really. Even if you find one with a proper body, they seldom have the knowledge to know how to use it! Perhaps it would be better if I simply carve their brains out myself. It would be putting them to better use, after all, and it would not be so hard to keep them from there. They already do not worry about the process of courting me to begin with, so there is nothing lost by them losing that capability entirely."

[justfangirlstuffs]

Now Until Forever

@saranootnoot So, Tumblr was a jerk and ate the ask you sent, so I'm posting it this way. Merry Christmas. (Note: this y/n is different from the one in EYEM)

You x vampire!Eclipse

You were done for. There was no way you were going to survive. You could almost feel your body going into shock. You hadn't expected to get violently mugged and left for dead, but then things like this usually happen when you least expect them, don't they? Now it was all you could do just to cling desperately to life wishing you could push some kind of redo button to prevent this.

It didn't seem fair. You'd just been living your life. Just existing. You hadn't been hurting anyone. Not significantly at least. You thought yourself a good and decent person. So, why was this happening to you? Were you being punished for something? Maybe someone or something had it out for you. Or maybe it was just all random chaos and you had rolled bad on the dice of life.

Sadness and regret washed over you. So many things you wouldn't get to do so many opportunities lost. You tried not to think that your life was wasted but you wondered if there was something you could have done to spend it more wisely. What scared you most was the idea of slipping away with no one there to ease your fears. You didn't want to die alone or at least you would have killed for some company in your last moments. Any company at all.

Somewhere in the cosmos your wish must have been heard, because you suddenly got the very real sense that you weren't alone. Your body gave a shudder that had nothing to do with the fact that you were losing way too much blood.

“I thought I caught the scent of death approaching.” A deep rich voice washed over you and it was both the most beautiful and the most soul quaking voice you had ever heard.

You looked up to see a towering figure that couldn't possibly have been human. A dark, round face surrounded by sunrays, burning amber eyes, and smile that set off an internal battle of wanting to pull closer and shrink away. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind for company, but at this point you weren't about to be choosy. What more could they do to you, after all? You opened your mouth to speak, to at least ask who they were, but all that left you was a weak groan.

The glowing eyes surveyed you. “You poor thing,” the voice crooned as the figure knelt over you. You found yourself absolutely eclipsed by his size. “You're not long for this world.”

Tell me something I don't know, you thought. The closer you were dragged to the end, the more you felt your metaphorical nails dragging along the concrete, desperate to delay the inevitable. It was a chore just o keep your head up at this point.

Thankfully, your newfound company was willing to help in that regard. Fingers brushed over your skin, cool and just as inhuman as the rest of them, as your head was held steady. “Do you want me to save you?” the stranger asked.

You stared at them in disbelief. Save you? Weren't you beyond saving at this point? Maybe if they'd found you sooner... As much as you wanted to believe, there was just no way. And yet, the very fact he was offering sparked hope within you.

“I can stop you from passing through death's door,” the figure said in alluring promise. “However, my service comes with a price. Pledge to serve me and I shall grant you life anew, a fresh chapter. Or stay here and let your story come to a close.”

You weren't sure what to make of this, and the continuous loss of blood was making it harder to think. There was a split second where your mind thought perhaps this wasn't the best idea. One of those things that sounded too good to be true, and who knew what 'serving' this person meant. However, the more raw and carnal part of you wanted to cling to life. This was your last chance, the final decision. If this is what it took, then you would gladly take the deal.

Summoning all your strength, you managed to wheeze out a single word. “Please.”

The smile lengthened and you saw a flash of sharp fangs. “There's a good little bird.”

You don't remember what all came next. You only remember arms picking up your limp body and carrying you to an unknown destination.

---

You awoke disoriented and confused. You weren't in your own bed like you were supposed to be. Instead, you were in a strange bed, in a strange room. Granted, a much nicer room than what you were used to. You tried to think back on what could have possibly led you to this strange place. Flashes of violence pervaded your mind, and you distinctly remembered the pain, the fear, the very real sense of the life leaving your body. Then someone showed up with the promise of saving you. Burning eyes that seemed to sear your core from within your mind's eye. Your knees wobbled and you had to steady yourself against the bed. Looking down at yourself, your clothes were different; clean and far better tailored than your usual attire. There was no trance of blood or filth on you. None of your old possessions were on you or nearby from the looks of things.

You needed to figure where you were. Find a phone. You exited the room and only just then noticed how dark it was. Must be the dead of night, yet you were able to see perfectly fine. Weird. You also felt strangely okay for someone who'd been bleeding out what felt like only moments before. How long have you been here? Were your family and friends worried about you? Suddenly a new fear cropped up, would you ever see them again?

“You're finally awake, little bird,” a voice drifted from behind, wrapping around you and causing you to stiffen. You turned to see a very familiar and memorable pair of amber eyes.

“Where am I?” you asked.

A soft chuckle preceded his next words. “Home.”

Maybe it was just the circumstances. Maybe you were still shaken by your experiencing. Maybe you were just so confused because nothing nothing was making sense. Regardless of the reasons, you turned and ran as fast as you could in the opposite direction. Everything around blurred and the wall rushed up to meet you so fast you smacked into it. You reeled for a moment, in a daze, but you recovered and rounded the corner, still running.

It happened again, the world suddenly blurring and snapping back, and you found you had covered an impossible distance. Not that it helped you much. The place was huge, an absolute maze. You had no idea where you were going. No idea if you were getting close to an exit or if you were just running yourself deeper into whatever labyrinth you were trapped in. You only knew that your body felt strange and alien. With every burst of impossible speed, you were getting more and more woozy.

You stopped to hunker down and catch your breath, taking cover behind a pillar. You were shaking and you took deep breaths, rubbing your hands over your face. Why did your skin feel so strange? Why did your teeth feel too big for your mouth?

“Oh, little bird, there's no sense in running.” The voice called out, and you could here footsteps, the rustling of fabric.

You held your breath, keeping very still, your heart seemed to thunder in your ears, but even that couldn't drown out the darkly sweet words that called to you.

“No matter where you go, I will find you.”

An overwhelming ache bloomed within you, and the words were both a horrifying threat and a tantalizing promise. You couldn't begin to parse why you were reacting this way. But you stayed quiet, and you stayed hidden, until the sounds of movement faded. Once quiet had settled, you peeked out from your hiding place and saw nothing and no one.

You breathed out and stood, turning to leave. Only to find yourself face to face with that burning gaze. You reflexively backed away, back slamming against the wall of the pillar.

“Did you enjoy the tour of your new home?” the stranger asked pleasantly, his smile amused.

“Please,” you said, though the following words were lost when he took your chin between his fingers.

“It seems your body took to the transition well. Excellent.”

You weren't sure why, but a bubble of happiness and thrill rose inside you. Suddenly, thoughts of running seemed far away and rather silly. Though, you reflexively tensed when you were grabbed by not one, not two, but four hands. For a moment you were engulfed in darkness so complete you thought you'd be consumed and lost to it forever, but then it cleared and you were back in the room you awoke in. Before you could so much as utter a thought, you were pulled close, flush against a body that was solid and unyielding.

“I mended your broken body,” he purred. “Now it's time for your payment.” Your body quaked within his grasp unable to fight or flee. His mouth lowered to your throat. “I'll start with this.”

A small cry escaped you as pain stabbed your neck. Then your body sagged as the most beautiful feeling in the world rushed over you. Suddenly you were reliving some of the best moments of your life. Moments that, once dulled by time, now shown with bright clarity. Moments when you were at your happiest, when the dark parts of the world were washed away and there was only joy and goodness and laughter. You relived those moments, experiencing every beautiful detail, every sensation. Moments that had been buried under the hardships and mundane of day-to-day life, now unearthed specifically for your pleasure.

Distantly very distantly you were aware of hands holding you, of a pressure at your throat, and of your hands clinging desperately to soft fabric. But those sensations were only secondary to the pure happiness and contentment that you felt. As soon as it had come it was sucked away and you found yourself sobbing into a pair of arms that held you upright.

“There now, little bird. You did well for your first time.”

The words were a soothing balm and you soaked in the praise, finding yourself wanting more of it, wanting desperately to please this person who had given you such an incredible gift. The one who saved you. You barely registered the fact that your legs were jelly, barely holding you upright, and you felt faint.

“Am I... gonna die?” you asked.

“Not without my say.” Hands cradled your face as those eyes burned into yours. “Until then, you'll serve me well, won't you?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“You're mine, from now until your last breath. Don't ever forget that.”

“I won't,” you promised.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I'm yours,” you murmured. “All yours. Forever.”

“Good.” The arms picked you up and placed you down into bed. “Now rest. I'll need you nice and healthy for what I have planned for you.”

You did as you were told and sank into the bed. Your limbs languid and your eyelids heavy. But one question still burned in your mind. “Who are you?”

“My name is Eclipse.” One of the hands that had so firmly held you, now gently stroked over your head. “Though, you can just call me 'master'.”

“Master Eclipse.” The words sounded natural and right as they left your lips.

Distantly you thought about your life and how much you were possibly losing. Yet the feeling of regret was distant and you didn't mourn your old life. Instead, you welcomed your new one. After all, you had a greater purpose now.

[thelavendercatalogue]

Hmm. Haven’t heard from Goemon for a while in this AU. I’m not sure what he’s been up to. Has he touched bases with everyone since Bad Times started?

Oh that poor bastard has not been having a good time for all the wrong reasons. Or right reasons if you just so happen to think about it

The real reason Goemon hasn't really shown up in this AU is. . .well. . .to be honest. I really don't know how to write him properly. Ive always struggled with everyone's favorite mostly emotionally constipated samurai.

But besides that there IS a good reason as to why he does not show up often in the AU.

You can actually blame Jigen for it.

You see I'm very choosy about what parts of the show i wanna make canon in this AU. And while I still don't know how much of PT5 I actually do wanna make canon in this, there is one major event that has always caught my eye. And I think we all know what part that is.

This part had gotten me thinking. My AU doesn't happen that long after part 6, which in turn I always Headcanoned never took that long after part 5, about a year or so give or take.

Now the reason Jigen has a lot to do with Goemon not being in LJS or at least the first half of LJS is due to him being exceedingly paranoid

You see, Lupin has already forgiven him for what Goemon has done. I don't necessarily think that Lupin is one to hold a Long Standing grudge.

But here's the thing.

While Lupin might have forgiven Goemon however Goemon hasn't forgiven himself all that fully

But imagine if someone else wasn’t that quick to do so

that someone being Jigen

Jigen doesn't forgive very easily

there's still a hesitancy.

I dunno the year difference between PT4/5 and ljs. But Jigen still being jumpy is sad to think about Like he’s not out rightly hostile toward Goemon. But you can tell somethings off.

Which is sad because Jigen knows Lupin would want him to forgive him, but he just cant do that.

But the reason Jigen is so hesitant to allow Goemon the right to be forgiven is because he's known Goe for a while at this point. The betrayal would probably be so way out of left field for him, that it'd be reasonable to assume that he'd originally thought that goemon had moved on from the whole 'wanting to defeat lupin in combat' thing at this point in the game. And then bam, you have Goemon's attempt on Lupins life, which whether he meant too or not, is a still a big deal, considering that no matter what NO ONE in the group has tried to actually hurt each other outside of friendly banter/ well thought out plans

Then that comes that throws it all out of whack

As a result, remnants of the results of that “betrayal” still make their presence known once in a blue moon despite Lupin's attempts to calm Jigen down enough to trust Goe again. But Lupin knows how Jigen is, Jigen doesn't forget that easily nor does he forgive that easily. Jigen still gets twitchy when Goemon makes an odd move towards him. And because of what has happened to Lupin in LJS PT1, the twitchness is full throttle because now Lupin is vulnerable and it's Jigens job to protect him and look out for him against anything Jigen percieves as a threat.

But because Lupin wants Jigen to just forgive him, instead of just casting Goemon to the side, Jigen does something else in an attempt to show he does trust Goemon despite his apprehensions, not for Goemon's sake but for Lupin's alone

By putting him in charge of being his sister Maddies "bodyguard" In a way doing this has a double reason. It keeps Goemon far from Lupin which gives Jigen some peace of mind, but it also shows Goemon that, while he still shows apprehension towards him, that Jigen still trusts Goemon to some extent to guard something precious to him and not throw him away when Lupin isnt in the right mind to object to it.

As a interesting biproduct of this arrangement, Maddie and Goemon grow close because of it. They become friends. Maddie likes Goemon and ends up saying a lot of good things about him to jigen, which would probably improve their relationship too (goe and jigen's, that is)

[silversiren1101]

For the kiss prompts, "a surprise kiss just because the other couldn’t stop thinking about it" for Mino/Regill please 👀

[Absolute treat to write this one!! My favorite thus far, thank you for the prompt! Also might be upgraded into smut in the future 😏]

Minovae's boots touched down in familiar soil as the teleportation magics dissipated from around her and Danza, whose feathers and fur were standing on end. Her companion squawked and nipped at her pauldron with his beak and, even for an animal, the displeasure in his striking golden eye was apparent.

"I know buddy, I hate teleporting too", she attempted to reassure the griffon, scratching into the feathers under his beak. Teleportation was a distinctly unpleasant experience. "But I just couldn't wait to get home—Not to say you're not the fastest in all of Cheliax!"

She hastily added the last bit, wary of the beast’s pride. It'd taken her some time to get used to the constant Tongues-like magic her innate Protean abilities gave her: being able to be understood by any creature posed certain challenges if she was careless not to speak any deliberate language. With Danza, though, she was always careful, speaking with him as she would another humanoid... albeit one with enough pride to rival a Thrune and a temper short enough to match that of one of their devils.

It didn't spare her the whack across the back of her head from one of his wings.

"Hey!"

But Danza had already started walking in the direction of the lake shimmering beneath the already low setting sun adjacent to the rise they'd appeared on—and of the impressive walls of Citadel Darvhage along its shores.

She shook her head and caught up at a trot, using her momentum to run and jump onto his back. Danza squawked again, feathers along his head and wings bristling, but permitted his rider this, at least. He earned some more scratches along his neck, and that squawking turned into pigeon-like, albeit still annoyed, cooing.

At least he hadn't bitten her again, Minovae internally celebrated. She'd only had Danza in her care for a few months now and the fact he permitted her to ride him at all in such a short time was nothing short of extraordinary. Griffons were... difficult and choosy mounts. The 'courting' process was a long and often expensive ordeal that, more often than not, ended in failure.

'A testament to your character.'

Her husband's words drifted into her thoughts. She pictured him perfectly in the moment he'd said them, leaning against the doorway to the stables, arms crossed but a smirk on his face as she wrapped bandages around not just herself but the griffon's paw, the two of them having gotten into an 'argument' mid-flight that led to him slamming into a tree and falling to the ground.

The memory made her smile warmly right there in the saddle as the two of them approached Darvhage's bridge. 

Her heart was fluttering, no, racing already. She couldn't wait to see him, knowing what a complete surprise it would be. The thought of his face upon her unceremoniously walking in without any warning ahead of time, not having seen each other for an entire month... She hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. The idea had appeared to her a few days ago, upon realizing her duties were almost over and she could return home soon, and so she’d done exactly that: return without sending word of her impending arrival. No one would be expecting her, much less her husband. It’d left her so excited, even, that she’d risked teleporting back, hoping that her and Danza wouldn’t end up sputtering in Lake Sorrow from her generally poor handle on casting spells.

A whole month... it really had been that long, hadn't it?

This had been the longest they’d been apart since their reunion during the Crusade. With him being Lictor now, and the Order of the Vice so freshly reformed, he was so extraordinarily busy here that he'd been unable to join her on her trip. Her work, this time, had taken her to newly liberated Ravounel. The devastated Order of the Torrent hadn’t requested her appearance, and yet hearing of their plight and conflict with the Rack and Barzillai Thrune had called her to action immediately. 

The past month had been spent trying to rebuild the broken trust between the two Orders as Exalictor, and learn more about the events that’d transpired around it. While it was a good trip, it’d also left her exhausted and homesick. The nightmares were more frequent when she was away from their bed and the sense of safety it provided. At least, though she seen silvery, glimmering Kintargo and all its beauty for herself, and had made a wonderful connection from the trip...

Lictor Sabinus had registered in her mind almost immediately upon meeting him as a profoundly good man. A good ally, and friend, to have. Also the Torrent’s armor was fucking phenomenal in its aesthetics. Maybe she could convince her husband to change the Vice knights’ to be something as stylish...

“Halt!” A voice suddenly called down from the guard station at the end of Darvhage’s bridge as Danza stepped onto the old stone. She heard the telltale ratcheting and slotting of crossbows lining up with the arrow slits in the stone, and began to smile. A month was enough to make her akin to a stranger about here? “This is the citadel of the Order of the Vice! State your name and purpose or you will be fired upon!”

But then another barked over the other. Something like a ‘That’s Exalictor Arangeir put down your weapon now!’

Minovae huffed, holding back a chuckle. The fact that she hadn’t been recognized was of no small amusement to her. A ganzi with her unique colorations and riding a griffon, casually striding up to Citadel Darvhage? Who else could she have been?

“It’s quite alright!”, She instead called out, feeling a little bad for the source of the first voice. “I can’t fault such diligence from a fellow knight, after all.” 

After a few moments, the door of the guard post opened and a trio of knights strode forth to meet with her. Or, more accurately, one knight and a duo of nervous-looking armigers. The knight, a dwarf, stood proudly in her full set of Hellknight plate and gave her a firm salute, while the armigers practically leapt to follow upon being corrected as to who this mysterious stranger was.

Minovae merely smiled warmly, enough so to expose one of her fangs at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t recognize these two armigers... of course, in the month she had been away, there had been plenty of time for new recruits to enlist in the Vice’s ranks and not have seen her in the flesh. As for the other...

“Ah, Vastr! I thought I recognized that voice!” She leapt down from Danza’s saddle—who himself seemed quite annoyed they had been stopped and just about to bite one of the armigers who leaned too close in their curiosity of the beast—to clasp the dwarf in a firm hand shake. 

“It is good to see you, My Lady. Forgive me for not apprising these two idiots of your appearance sooner. I didn’t expect your arrival.”

Minovae snorted at the term of respect. “’My Lady’? Have I truly been gone for so long? Please, you know my name and I encourage you to use it freely.”

Vastr nodded, and corrected appropriately. “Of course, Minovae, my apologies.”

The eyes of the armigers went wide at the casual address. Surely they must have at least heard of her reputation as relatively friendly and approachable? Or were their heads filled with assumptions based merely on her titles of Exalictor, Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade, The Inevitable Paradox, and, most dire of all, The Lictor’s Wife. Knowing their Lictor, what kind of woman could possibly have won his heart, after all.

She reminded herself not to be away for so long again.

“Would you like me to send word ahead to the main keep?”, Vastr asked.

“No need. I’d hoped to surprise my dear husband, so I’d ask you not to spoil it now.”

Vastr paled a little bit, and that caught her attention immediately.

“Is something wrong?”

Vastr shook her head and inhaled deeply. “Lictor Derenge will no doubt be most pleased to see you’ve returned.”

Minovae frowned, suspicious. Even the armigers looked more spooked. She had an idea at least... but the Vice Knights would never speak candidly about it, of course. The few Sendings she and him had shared over her trip had been even more terse and almost surly the longer she’d been away. Had he been taking it out upon the knights? It would had to have been inadvertently so, letting his increasing longing and loneliness leach into his mood. He would never do such a thing on purpose.

“I see...”, her smile picked back up as she quickly leapt back into Danza’s saddle, making the griffon hiss and start to trot forward, not waiting for the order. “At ease, boys!”

The scene at the main gate was much the same, save for Danza impatiently leaping up and over the wall and gatehouse rather than wait for them to open and let them in. That was a bit of a relief though - the noise of the gate might have alerted her husband to her arrival and ruined the surprise.

A good number of knights she recognized saluted accordingly, greeting her and welcoming her back, asking if she needed anything. A good number of armigers she didn’t recognize, meanwhile, looked at her curiously. She couldn’t fault them: she was keenly aware of what a spectacle she was—a ganzi not even five-feet-tall astride a hissing griffon fighting for space, with oddly pale scales and bright teal feathers—alongside her titles and reputation. All she could do was smile and nod at them warmly, make them feel seen by the woman she actually was as opposed to the mythic figure they’d constructed in their minds.

None, at least, lingered to bother her long. They were Hellknights after all. Greeting her, the Exalictor, and, perhaps more importantly, The Lady of the Keep, was a courtesy they felt compelled to uphold. While most arrivals got curt nods of acknowledgment only, the fact she was greeted with words and possible inquiries was notable in and of itself.

Strange and palpable, though, was the sense of overall relief she could read in the language and mannerisms of the knights about her. They were relived she was back... and that bode ill for her husband’s disposition.

She sent Danza off on his own, trusting the irritable beast to return to his nest in the stables and remove his gear without her to do it for him. The longer she lingered, the more her surprise was liable to be spoiled, and so she practically jogged into the main keep proper shortly after touching down in the courtyard. More nods and greetings followed her as she trotted past other members of the Vice throughout the keep, making a beeline to her husband’s personal office. 

Hopefully, he would be there already. If not, then he’d have a bit of a surprise waiting for him.

It was only when she rounded a corner coming up the main flight that she halted, a rather familiar face among a group of knights coming down the hall.

Master of Blades Yaker Ankelle looked up from where he had been discussing something with another knight, who she recognized as Maralictor Jorvel, on the move. A bright and elated smile appeared on the young man’s face.

“Mino! You’ve returned!” He held his arm out and Minovae didn’t hesitate taking it, her own smile radiant. He clapped her on the forearm and, of course, asked her how her trip was and welcomed her back home, more than just the courtesy of the other knights but as a genuine brother-in-arms and dear friend. 

“It was overly long, and not just for me, if my suspicions are correct.” She smiled knowingly as Yaker nodded and coughed pointedly.

“I would warn you before knocking on his door, but you are probably the only person here that doesn’t need it.”

She sighed and shook her head, half in exasperation and half in amusement at the situation—that he of all people would become such an irritable grouch at her prolonged absence. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t he consciously aware of it; or, if he was, was even more irritable because of it. Not being fully in control of his sense of self, emotionally and physical, was one of the greatest compromises he’d made giving in to love and a life with her, after all.

“That bad, huh.”

Jorvel nodded and spoke up. “He’s taken to burying himself in work in his office these past weeks. It’s when he runs out of things to distract him...”

To which Yaker merely hummed in assent. “Like being back in the Worldwound before you appeared. Not so bad as then, but, still, nostalgic.”

‘Oh, dear.’ Disappointed in her husband as she was, though, a piece of her selfishly relished this news. That he had been missing her so dearly...

“I guess someone needs to go deal with the devil, then”, she grinned and indicated her intent to continue on to the two, only for Yaker to catch her by the shoulder and lean in close.

“I’ll ensure his schedule is cleared. No one will be bothering you,” he whispered.

Minovae patted his hand in gratitude as she raised her brows at him, a different kind of knowing in her expression. He pulled away with a smirk of his own, welcomed her back once again, and then she was trotting down the halls once more. 

By the time she came to his office door, so familiar in those vast halls of the Citadel Darvhage, her heart was thudding so heavy in her chest she could barely breathe evenly. How did she want to do this? What would catch him most off guard?

‘...before knocking on his door...’ It was as good a surprise as any, she supposed.

She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to swallow down the excitement in her throat, wanting her voice as casual and even as possible for this.

And then, without further ceremony, she wordless rapped the backplate of her glove against the wood of the door.

Hardly a second passed before a downright venomous version of her dear husband’s voice responded to the interruption. “You better have a good reason for this unscheduled disturbance.”

She sucked at her lips, trying desperately to swallow down her excited giggling. It delayed her own answer, and she heard the scrape of his chair as he must’ve stood up.

“Answer. Unless you are looking for lashes for wasting my time.”

It took another deep breath to summon enough discipline to keep her voice steady.

“Oh? I can leave if you like,” she called out through the door, trying to sound as casual she possibly could over her giddiness.

A whole beat of silence passed. 

And then she heard the telltale sign of clinking, rustling armor of someone hurriedly approaching the other side of the door.

It opened with all the force of someone yanking it, and before her, finally, stood her dearest husband. 

Lictor Regill Derenge stood completely rigid, one hand still on the doorknob and the other braced against the door’s frame. The expression on his face was complete incredulous disbelief, the piercing yellow eyes she adored looking up into hers as if a ghost had appeared before him. His pale purple hair was even a bit more bristly than usual, which told her, along with the obvious dark pits beneath his eyes, that he was tired, and that certainly did a number on her heart.

But the look on his face. She’d be remembering this for a long time to come. Had she ever seen him look this genuinely surprised? He looked at her with more shock and reverence than when a literal goddess appeared before them!

“...about those lashes...”, she started to joke, voice breaking into poorly contained laughter, “...might I choose a different punishme—!”

The door slammed behind her as he quite literally kicked it closed, pulling her into the office with both hands grasping her cloak. She didn’t even have time to gasp before he yanked her down to his height and pushed onto her a bruising kiss. Her pack slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a thump.

Hells, did she want to tease him at that moment. No, ‘welcome back!’ or “I missed you!’ or “was your trip enjoyable?’, but sheer emotional desperation that could only manifest itself physically. Words weren’t sufficient in this matter.

That was Regill though. Mr ‘Speak with your actions’ in the flesh.

She could only smile into the kiss as he growled, grabbing at her like he was checking to see if she real; but, in truth, she was keenly aware of just how miserable she’d been as her entire body sang at this reunion: seeing his handsome face, the taste of his kiss and that slight iron tang as he cared so little about the danger of her fangs, his desperate touch already beginning to reach for her hips, the smell of too much coffee on his breath and his natural scent she adored, his sounds as he groaned and growled, firmly pushing her backward onto his desk.

It was like a piece of her had been torn out, the wound aching and seeping blood the past month. Now that it’d been returned and she was whole, she could truly feel how pained she had been from it all.

The same was much for him, she imagined.

“Dismiss your armor,” Regill breathed as he spread her knees and planted his hands upon the desk on either side of her hips.

“I smell like griffon, dear!” She laughed a bit incredulously. “I haven’t had time to get cle—”

“Does it look like I care? Now shut up.” He snarled at her. A snap of his fingers then dismissed his own armor into extradimensional space—one of the few spells he actually used from being connected to her—leaving him in his typical day clothes. 

A massive grin spread across her face. She shook her head, so filled with love and joy and amusement at this display of downright neediness from him. 

Without a word, her armor vanished, and she let her dear husband welcome her back home in the way he best knew how... and the way they both sorely needed.

[lisatelramor]

Crossing Borders ch2

Pain. Back, neck, shoulder, head, hip, couldn’t move, hurts—why?—hurts, a face above, blurry, confusion, fear, no breath in lungs to call out, no strength. Everything wrong, wrong, hurts, it wasn’t fair.

Wei Ying pushed the energy back and out, returning it to the blood; look this was your source, stay. Ugh. He hated the disorienting feeling it left him with. The fall had knocked the breath from the victim’s lungs, maybe even left him with broken ribs, and injured him in multiple places. There wasn’t any recognition though, no clear feeling toward the person who pushed him. It couldn’t have been an accident. Not with the energy up there as well as down here, but it was a puzzle as to what could have done it.

Perhaps Lan Zhan had more luck.

“Anything?” he asked, stepping back onto solid ground. There was a small furrow between Lan Zhan’s brows and that didn’t indicate anything good.

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed—a negative. “The spirit is present and aware, but insists that he was alone out here before he was pushed to his death.”

“And he specifically said pushed?”

“Yes.” The sounds of Inquiry faded away as Lan Zhan lifted his hand from the strings. “He thought he saw a face when he fell, but it was too poor of an angle to make out details. The pusher had long hair, however.”

“Oh, well that narrows things down to, eh, half the residents,” Wei Ying said sourly.

“Was he part of a group or a solo visitor?”

“A group.”

“Any women?”

“Yes.”

“So potentially one of them could be the murderer.”

Lan Zhan hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing; considering.

“I mean murder can be really, like, personal and all.” When it was the living doing the killing at any rate. The dead were a lot less choosy about who they took their anger out on.

“We should see the body.”

Ugh, more blood. Well, if he wanted to avoid corpses, being a cultivator was a poor career choice. Still, it never got any less gross. And annoying. …Okay, maybe his reactions to dead bodies weren’t on par with the average person’s. Most people would lead with screaming, not annoyance. “Lead on,” Wei Ying said with a heavy sigh.

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get any more research done for a while.

*o*o*

Conan had picked through his meal—or at least as much as he was willing to eat—when the bell started ringing. With the muffled silence of the dining hall only interrupted by the sounds of moving chopsticks, the sound carried through the whole room with an ominous, low reverberation. Conan didn’t have much time to wonder what it was before two people came through the door, white robes swaying behind them as they walked so fast it skimmed the rule against running.

They went straight for the head table.

Conan didn’t like where this was going. A guest missing, an alarm bell ringing, and people on the edge of serious worry? Clearly something had gone wrong, and Conan was willing to bet it involved the missing person.

A low murmur broke out among the tables as the bell kept ringing. Conan craned his neck, but he couldn’t see the expressions on the people at the head table. What he did see was two more people standing abruptly.

“Attention!” a woman in white robes said. She wasn’t shouting, but her voice carried through the whole hall, smothering the muttering and easily heard above the bell. “There has been an incident and we must ask that all visitors return to their guest dormitories.” It was said in English, followed by Mandarin, likely because it was aimed at the wide range of guests. “Please follow a disciple back to your rooms. If you have not finished your meal, you may request further sustenance to be eaten in your rooms.”

“Well, this is really turning out to be a shit show,” Mouri grumbled under his breath.

“Tou-san,” Ran chided.

“What? There’s a billion rules, the food is awful, the rooms are awful, and now we’re going to be locked in them?”

“We’re not going to be locked in, they want to make sure everyone is accounted for,” Ran said reasonably.

“For a week getaway, it sure resembles a prison,” Mouri said as they let themselves be herded into the line of people.

Some distance behind them, Conan could see the people he was watching earlier approaching one of the robed people, concern on their faces. Clearly they also worried that their missing friend was related to the alarm. That, or they were worried he’d get separated. It was too far away to make out what was being said, never mind that it was probably in Mandarin.

“Please, follow me,” one of the residents said, presumably to the group at large. Or maybe they were dividing out by groups or housing?

Conan didn’t think too hard on that, eyes searching for clues on what might have happened. There were people everywhere, moving like an ant colony that had been poked with a stick and yet somehow still moving with calm purpose instead of running like one would expect in an emergency. The ones in white seemed to move in pairs, and that would make sense for a patrol of some sort looking for a potentially unknown threat. Everyone had backup.

There was so much movement, Conan almost missed a streak on the ground, almost lost in the footprints and dust. Blood. Not a lot of blood, but definitely blood that had been stepped in, moving toward… He squinted at the building in the distance. Not the kitchens or dining hall, naturally. The compound’s map was a vague picture in his head. Infirmary? He thought it was the right direction for it, and if someone was dead or injured, it would be the logical place to go.

Conan let himself drop back, distance widening between him and the Mouris. No one seemed to notice. They all had their tasks to carry out or were also guests moving toward different locations. He drifted back. Back more, in the direction of the probable infirmary. No one stopped him. Conan tucked into the shadow of a building and moved as fast as he could without outright running because running would probably make him noticed instantly.

Nothing to see here, just an insignificant child…

There was more blood, drops really, a smudge here or there, but this was Conan’s element. As two residents hurried by, he kept in the bushes until he was close to the infirmary door. There; a smudge of blood at the opening where someone had touched it with bloodied hands.

Conan slid the door open just enough to slip inside.

The front room was empty, just a counter and a few seats and a wall full of tiny drawers with handwritten labels on them. There was a door behind the counter, and another hallway branching off from the reception room. Down the hallway were voices, serious-toned.

He crept closer.

There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the building, definitely not in the minimalistic hallway, but if the people talking were too busy with the victim, then they wouldn’t have any reason to look out and see him. Conan crept to the doorway of some sort of exam room, the door just open a crack. The voices were clear here, but of course Conan couldn’t make head or tails of what was being said. He knew maybe twenty Mandarin phrases at most, and they might not even be the same dialect as what people here used.

He let a silent breath filter through his teeth, annoyed. He couldn’t see the victim from here, and he couldn’t get anything from the conversation beyond that no one in that room sounded happy. There had to be some way for him to get a better vantage point…

Up toward the top of the rooms was a lattice work, enough to ensure a level of privacy but also let air flow through the building. A quick glance, and yes, no one in the room next door. Conan heaved a chair on top of the cot near the adjoining wall. It wasn’t exactly a steady situation, but needs must.

Conan clambered to the top and found himself still just a bit too short to see to the other side.

With a mental deluge of swearing, he had the brilliant idea of jumping the last few centimeters to hook his fingers through the lattice and drag himself up enough to view.

Ow. Both uncomfortable, and was going to be difficult to get down from, but he could see into the other room. There were three men standing around a male corpse, the body laid out on an exam table. The man looked like he died from a head wound, between the amount of blood congealing around his head and the fact that the back of his clothes seemed to be drenched in it. Head wounds bled a lot, quickly. There were other injuries too. Blood on his fingers, leg, maybe more on the man’s back, but impossible to see without close examination.

A head wound and scraped hands. That could easily be from fighting someone off, but it was a lot more likely to be from a fall. A fall didn’t rule out murder. With Conan’s luck it was pretty much guaranteed to be murder, but he could hope that it wasn’t.

His focus was drawn back to the room at large when someone pulled a stringed instrument from… somewhere. It was some kind of qin. How had he missed such a large instrument? Why was there such a large instrument? As he watched, the men grew silent as the musician began to play. It almost… it almost looked like some of the notes were playing by themselves.

Conan squinted, trying to figure out the trick, but as he tried to pull himself up just a bit closer to the lattice—a few centimeters could make all the difference—his foot braced against the wall slipped.

“Sh—” He cut himself off, clinging with his fingertips as his hands suddenly took his full weight. Ow! The floor was a lot further away when hanging near the ceiling from a bit of carved wood. If he was any heavier, the lattice probably would have broken already.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. He just. Had to get a bit away to a clear patch of floor and drop. Or drop on the cot and hope it didn’t collapse or send the chair flying. …He knew he should have brought his suspenders. Those would be really useful right now.

By some shred of luck, the people on the other side of the wall didn’t seem to have noticed him slipping. The music kept playing with the weird serious intensity about it. If Conan could just get down, no one would be the wiser…

Slowly, he moved his hands a bit to the right. His arms were already aching, but this was fine. Conan still had the situation under control. Just half a meter more…

He slipped. Of course he slipped, he was in an annoying child body with a child’s annoying limitations, and Conan hated this situation so freaking much.

Conan clenched his eyes closed as his fingers lost their battle with the lattice, bracing for a crash, pain, the inevitable of everyone in the next room finding him and tossing him out of the compound before he could even get into solving the case.

Instead, two hands caught his middle.

“Kid, you are definitely not supposed to be here.”

Conan opened his eyes and looked up to see the man from the library. Despite the censure of his words, he didn’t actually look upset about finding Conan scaling the walls to spy on people. The person behind him, on the other hand, had a scowl that could peel paint.

“Eavesdropping is not allowed,” the second man said in clipped English.

“Lan Zhan. Chill, he’s like, eight tops.”

Conan really hated how being physically a kid made absolutely no one take him seriously. But then again, he was less likely to get in trouble if he played the little kid card. He let his eyes go wide and repentant. “I’m almost seven,” he said.

“See, practically a baby.”

Okay that was a little too demeaning. “I’m not a baby!”

Lan Zhan said something in Mandarin. The man still holding Conan by his armpits responded in English. “Okay but the baby Lans are exceptions to the rule. Except for Lan Jingyi. He gets what it’s like to be a child.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said in a tone of someone long-suffering but fond.

“Right, right.” Wei Ying swung Conan around and set him on the table so fast that Conan felt dizzy. “So. What made a kid like you spy on a bunch of old guys in a medical room?”

“Uh.” No matter how many times he got put on the spot, it never really got easier to come up with things on the fly. And it’s not like he could say he heard about this on TV. “I saw people going this direction when the alarm happened,” he said, stretching truth into his story because it always helped to give it a bit of backbone. “And there was blood on the ground and people at dinner were worried about their friend, and I thought I could find out if it was him so they’d worry less.”

Wei Ying gave him a skeptical once-over. “And you jumped from a few drops of blood to deciding that it had to be from their missing friend and that the people in this direction were, what, covering it up? Kid, that would be really weird.”

“That sort of thing happens a lot,” Conan said truthfully.

“People covering up dead bodies?”

“Yes. Or making dead bodies.”

Wei Ying stared, eyebrows going up, before glancing over his shoulder like his friend might have some sort of insight. Lan Zhan’s face was still set in a cold, judgmental stare, so Conan wasn’t sure if there was any actual communication going on there, or if Wei Ying was doing an equivalent of ‘do you see this??’ at him.

“Hey Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, “I think this kid might be cursed. Because none of that is normal. Do you know how many dead bodies a person outside of hospitals and funeral homes run into in a year? Because the answer is none. Little kids in particular should not be running into corpses on the regular.”

“I live with a detective,” Conan said.

“He takes you with him to investigate homicides?” Wei Ying said, looking horrified.

“Er.” Conan made his eyes go wider and tried to channel cute, child-y vibes. “He doesn’t try to, but a lot of the time people just… die.”

“On cases.”

Conan nodded.

Wei Ying said something to Lan Zhan in Mandarin. Conan couldn’t parse the words, but the tone made it clear he was still stuck on the whole cursed thing. People were so superstitious. First the police back home, now some random people at a Chinese temple-resort? (Conan still wasn’t sure how to refer to this place and its oddities.) Yes, he ran into a lot of bodies, but it wasn’t that weird. Running into violent crimes was part of why it had been important to live with Mouri in the first place…

“Right,” Wei Ying said, making Conan’s attention snap back to him. “So you’re going to leave the people in the next room to do their thing, and we’re going to get you back to your family.”

“But I didn’t get a chance to check on how the man was d—”

“He is dead,” Lan Zhan said, blunt and clipped and a bit different in accent than Wei Ying speaking English. His face was expressionless.

“You’re sure?”

“Ah, very sure,” Wei Ying said. “No one’s losing that much blood and living. Maybe hold off on telling his friends that though. There’s an investigation going on.”

Conan caught the implications. “You think they had something to do with it?”

“Eh? Well, maybe? But honestly, we don’t need people panicking over a death before we have all the facts.”

Conan grimaced, knowing exactly the level of chaos several dozen panicking people could produce. “Someone has to talk to them about something though. The longer their friend is missing, the more they’re going to get scared. And to know if they did it.”

“You’re stuck on one of them doing it, huh?”

“Well,” Conan shrugged, “most murders are done by people close to the victim. Unless it’s an assassin or a stalker.”

Wei Ying pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mm, really want to talk to your guardian, kiddo. Do they even know where you are? Didn’t think so.” Wei Ying sighed. “Lan Zhan.”

“Mm, time to return to the guest rooms,” Lan Zhan said.

“Wait!” Conan said. He scrambled off the table. “I don’t even know how he died yet!”

“Look, I’m only telling you this so you stop snooping,” Wei Ying said squatting to be closer to Conan’s eye level. While he appreciated the chance to look someone in the eye without craning his neck, it also felt demeaning. Conan frowned at him. Behind them, Lan Zhan made an unhappy sound. “Lan Zhan, he was in the library with me when this guy would have died. Anyway. That guy? Died falling from a cliff. So there, curiosity satisfied, go find your designated adult.”

“I’m not helpless,” Conan protested automatically, though he let himself be pushed toward the door. His mind whirled over the new information, matching the injuries he’d made out on the corpse to the cause of death. Very probable that it was the truth. Next door, the music stopped and Wei Ying all but herded him and Lan Zhan out of the room.

“I’ll handle things here, take the kiddo to his people.”

“I have a name!” Conan protested.

“That’s nice.”

Conan wrinkled his nose as Wei Ying leaned in quick to press a kiss against Lan Zhan’s face. PDA? Really? And kissing openly in China? Apparently with all those rules, somehow public displays of affection and homosexuality weren’t included. Nice to know.

“Bye-bye,” Wei Ying said with a cheery wave.

Then Lan Zhan’s hand closed over Conan’s shoulder and pushed him firmly toward the exit, leaving Conan no choice but to walk away from this particular mystery.

*o*

 He half expected to get a lecture the moment Wei Ying was gone, but instead Lan Zhan remained intimidatingly silent. Conan shot him a few uncertain glances, not quite sure what to make of him. If his boyfriend(?) was dressed casually, Lan Zhan was the exact opposite. He looked like one of those people who rarely had a hair out of place. Even his clothing was neat and stain-free despite being white robes and being in the middle of nowhere up a mountain. Add to that the eerie lack of expression now that he was no longer scowling, he could easily pass for a model or something. Someone intimidating and unapproachable.

It wouldn’t be odd to picture him leading a meditation circle or something…

Conan wasn’t going to get away from him though, not when Lan Zhan kept one hand on his shoulder the entire time like he was just waiting for Conan to try and run off again. Which was fair. Conan would absolutely hare off after anything that popped up that looked like a clue.

The rush of people from earlier were gone, just two pairs of white-robed people patrolling the main roadway between the buildings.

They had swords.

Conan would have zeroed in on that more except there was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Kudo Shinichi’s face was there, clear as day under the edge of one of the guest quarters’ buildings. Conan stopped dead, barely feeling Lan Zhan’s fingers tighten their grip. “You!” he said, too loud in the silent courtyard.

‘Shinichi’ looked up, saw Conan, and paled before pasting over the self-assured confidence that Conan used to have before everything fell apart. “Yo! If it isn’t the little detective,” he said cheerfully.

Conan wiggled free from Lan Zhan, ignoring the sound of disapproval behind him as he stormed forward. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed in Japanese. “And with that face! I told you not to wear that face!” It wasn’t even as good a job as usual. Kid—because this could only be Kaitou Kid—looked like a Shinichi who’d been given a noogie while wearing hair gel. “Are you stalking me?”

“I had no idea you were here, Tantei-kun, but that does explain why everything’s gone bellies up. Your poor karma strikes again.” Kid snorted as Conan scowled.

Conan didn’t even have his soccer ball belt on right now, but he could probably wipe the grin off Kid’s face if he kicked him in the shin.

“Mr. Kuroba,” Lan Zhan said behind Conan—Conan caught a flinch Kid couldn’t quite hold in—recapturing Conan’s shoulder firmly. “You should not be out of your room. It is not safe for guests to wander at the moment.”

Kuroba, huh? Where did Conan know that name from…?

“Ah, sorry Mr. Lan,” Kid said with a little bob that barely counted as a bow. “I thought perhaps I could offer my assistance.”

“None that you could provide are currently needed.”

What help? Stealing something? Well, no, Kid wasn’t useless at a murder investigation, but he was no detective. Some flashy sleight of hand wasn’t going to be much use in finding out who pushed a man from a cliff though. Wait. Sleight of hand… “Are you a Kuroba Toichi fanboy?” Conan blurted in Japanese, remembering the hours his mother had gushed about his skills and abused the disguise skills the man had taught her. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Kid’s style had a lot similar to what Conan remembered from the couple of performances he’d been dragged to. “You are, aren’t you? You’re even copying his stage presence.”

Kid flushed, paled, flushed again, like he couldn’t decide if he was mortified, angry, or who knew what behind that grit-toothed smile.

“Mr. Kuroba Kaito?” Lan Zhan cut in, clearly not amused by being ignored, but Conan could care less.

“Wow. That’s an awful pun. What happened to Doito Katsuki?” Conan could almost forget to be angry about Kid wearing his face with all this joke fodder to hold over him. “You really chose to have a play on ‘thief’ for your first name?”

“Please shut up.”

Lan Zhan huffed. “I see you both know each other and are equally bad at doing what you are told,” he said coldly.

“Ahaaaa.” Kid rubbed the back of his head. It made the hair even more of a mess. “Sorry, sorry, I really was going to offer my help. And I didn’t even know my…cousin…was here.”

Cousin. Well, they did look related for obvious reasons. Of course ‘Conan’ looked like ‘Shinichi’. “I thought Shinichi-nii-san was still busy with a case in Japan!” Conan chirped in English.

Too brightly, because both men side-eyed him.

“Well, Conan-kun, I was following a lead.” Lan Zhan frowned like something in that explanation didn’t match what reason Kid had given to be there. Kid turned to Lan Zhan. “Sorry my cousin is being a nosy brat. He can’t help it.”

Conan pointedly kicked him in the shin, feeling a prick of satisfaction as Kid cut off a hiss of pain. “You’re just as nosy,” Conan said with his innocent-little-kid smile on.

“I am going to flirt with Mouri-chan for that,” Kid hissed in Japanese.

“Try it. I can kick rocks with just as much accuracy as a ball, and you don’t have to have a big target for me to hit you where it hurts most,” Conan shot back, still smiling. Also in Japanese because he wasn’t stupid.

Lan Zhan looked between them before visibly deciding he didn’t want to have anything to do with whatever tension was going on between them. “Mr. Kuroba, please return to you room. I am taking…”

“Edogawa Conan,” Conan said because he realized he never gave them his name.

“Mr. Edogawa back to his guardians.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll go stay with them,” Kid said.

Lan Zhan sighed, done with both of them. “Wherever you go, please stay there until someone comes by to inform you it is safe to leave your rooms.”

“Right, right!” Kid said with a laidback grin that didn’t fit quite right on ‘Shinichi’s face. Too wide, a bit too round in the cheeks. Kid’s impersonations weren’t always flawless it seemed. “We’ll do our best to keep out of trouble.”

Lan Zhan said something under his breath in Mandarin. Conan was willing to bet it was some variation of “I highly doubt that.” Then, hand coming down on Conan’s shoulder again, they were herded the rest of the way toward Conan’s room.

Kid, now that his actions were decided on, strolled casually like he didn’t have a care in the world. What was he here to steal? Or was there even anything to take? The place was so minimalistic. That didn’t mean there couldn’t be a relic of some sort set with a hefty gem; places with history often had objects with a lot of value. Still, it seemed like a lot to come all the way to China. Kid had almost exclusively stuck with Japan since his return from an eight-year hiatus.

“So,” Kid said to Conan in Japanese, as casual as if they were just catching up, “what’s the situation?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Hmm, maybe because I’ve helped before in the past? I’m guessing it’s a murder, since the only time I run into dead bodies seems to be when you’re nearby.”

Conan scowled. “If you start up about being cursed, I’m going to kick you where it hurts.”

“Oh ho?” Kid lifted an eyebrow, grinning. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

“What?”

“Seeking a cure for a curse?”

Conan frowned, squinting up at Kid’s ever-masked face. “Curses aren’t real. I’m here because Mouri won a sketchy trip to China from a shop by the race tracks.”

Kid nodded slowly. “Huh. I could see someone thinking it was Mouri Kogoro who was cursed, not you, since most people don’t know how often you run into bodies even when he isn’t around.”

“I’m not cursed! I just—”

“Attract murderers and corpses,” Kid finished. “I never ran into dead people before you. Now there’s murderers and corpses all over these days.”

“Oh, and none of that is related to you being a criminal,” Conan said scathingly.

“For your information, the number of times a person pointed a gun at me before I met you could be counted on one hand.”

“Really?” That didn’t feel like it was right. Somehow it seemed like Kid surely had to have had police aim at him, if not a criminal.

“Yes,” Kid said emphatically. “Because having guns pointed at you isn’t normal. The average person in Japan neither runs into murder victims nor rogue gunmen. You’re just a statistical outlier.”

Conan kicked at Kid’s ankles, but was rudely dodged. Lan Zhan’s hand on his shoulder kept him from following. Conan hated Kid sometimes. Bad enough he wore Shinichi’s face, he had to mock him too.

“No fighting in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Zhan said in a firm tone.

“It’s play fighting,” Conan lied.

“Tell that to my bruises,” Kid muttered under his breath.

“We are here,” Lan Zhan said as they reached one of the guest buildings. Conan had missed their arrival with how the few guest housing buildings looked identical. “Return to your room and stay there, please.” He pushed Conan firmly toward the door. “You as well, Mr. Kuroba.”

“Of course,” Kid said with a smile, catching Conan’s shoulder before he could squirm away. “Good luck with your investigation.” With a little half-bow, Kid pushed Conan through the door and shut it behind them.

A frowning resident of the Cloud Recesses stood just to the side of the door.

Kid gave her a reassuring grin, still shoving Conan along.

“Stop pushing!”

“Start walking then,” Kid said lightly. “Which door is yours?”

“Toward the end,” Conan said unhappily. “But I don’t want you wearing that face. How are you going to explain Kudo Shinichi being here in China?”

“Maybe he won a mysterious prize like your snoozing detective,” Kid said. They ducked into a side hallway, all the doors closed, and no one in view. “So, is there a body?”

“Yes,” Conan said sourly. “One body.”

“Mm, one so far, got it.”

“You’re going to jinx us.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in superstition?” Kid tilted his head to the side, a smirk that was too wide for Shinichi’s face on his lips.

Smug asshole, Conan thought. “Your face,” he said demandingly.

“I could change it,” Kid said, “but—” He held up a finger to stop Conan’s protest before it could even start. “But, this is the current face that people here are aware of me as, and I would rather not have a twitchy, paranoid disciple attacking me just because I’m the one face that isn’t on the guest list.”

Conan rolled his eyes. “There’s dozens of people here. They’re not going to notice one—”

“Tantei-kun. They’ll notice.” Kid was dead serious. Conan had seen him serious before, even if it seemed like Kid’s first instinct at any given moment was to deflect or charm anyone before him. “It may not seem like it, but they are very serious about security here, and they keep track of who is and isn’t allowed to be here at any given moment to an obsessive degree. I am not getting attacked or kicked out just to make you feel better.”

Yet again, Conan wondered what the hell sort of place this was. “They’re an ascetic resort,” he grumbled. “What do they need that level of security? Is there some kind of cover-up going on here?” Actually, that was entirely probable. That library could have held who knew what sort of information and valuables. Let alone the myriad of other buildings and kilometers of mountain land.

Kid snorted. “There’s nothing illegal going on, but they do like their secrets. It’s closer to a religious cult than anything else.”

“Rule worshippers?” Conan joked even as he turned the thought over in his head. Some sort of religious group would make sense with the remote location, the whole robe thing, the focus on practically monastic living, and even the large collection of old books. It fit, but it wasn’t a pleasant concept. If it was a cult, then who knew what sort of things they did behind the scenes? They could even be responsible for the death. Perhaps not though, with how they were reacting…

Kid laughed. “Ugh, yeah there are way too many rules. It makes me want to break as many as possible in a spectacular manner before they boot me out of this place.”

“Such a pity you have to behave or you won’t get what you came here for.”

“Exactly.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“And I’m being entirely serious,” Kid retorted. His expressions were a lot more fluid than usual, Conan noted. More fluid than Shinichi’s generally were, almost like he’d only taken Shinichi’s face as a template and added a few changes for personal taste.

Conan still hated it. “I’m not backing down about your face.”

Kid rolled his eyes so hard his head practically moved with them. “I’m not changing it. I don’t even look that much like Kudo Shinichi at the moment. This face is clearly far more handsome.”

“Excuse me?” Conan’s eyes narrowed. A bit rounder face, a wider smile and eyes that smiled a bit easier were not huge differences. Nor was hair with permanent bedhead. Perhaps the eye color was a bit darker, but perfectly matching eye color was hard; Kid probably used contacts and the shade of his natural eye color would affect the end result. Even with those small differences, Conan couldn’t say that Kid was more attractive than Shinichi’s features. Also, he was kind of insulted that Kid would suggest otherwise.

“Not that Kudo Shinichi is bad for the eyes, but he’s just not as charismatic,” Kid continued, “and charisma adds to anyone’s looks.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure swearing is against the ru—ow.”

Conan had no regrets kicking Kid once again. It finally wiped the damn smugness off his face.

“A little defensive of your ‘cousin’ there, Edogawa,” Kid grumbled. He rubbed at his shin where there had to be quite a few bruises starting. “Look, I am not changing my face, but I won’t use Kudo’s name either. I’m just Kuroba Kaito, Japanese high school student visiting for a personal research project.”

“Is that how you’re spinning it.”

Kid shrugged, stepping back out into the hall. Conan wanted to drag him back, but he really had been gone long enough that Ran was sure to be worried. “I am here for a personal research project. It’s just not academic in the least.”

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Research isn’t.”

Semantics. Conan would keep arguing, but they were at the correct door. Instead, he knocked before the door was yanked open from the inside like someone on the other end was just waiting to open it.

“Conan-kun!” Ran said, furious and worried as she yanked him into a hug.  “I was so worried! Don’t wander off like that!”

“Ah, I just wanted to know what was going on!” Conan said, wiggling in her grip. He liked her hugs. Really. But between Kid watching and the ever-present guilt being squashed to her chest brought, now was not one of the moments to enjoy it. “I didn’t mean to get separated.”

Ran pulled back, seeing right through him. She knew him too well, Conan and Shinichi both, to believe that he hadn’t intentionally ran in a direction with trouble.

“Don’t make excuses; you always end up right—in… the middle… Shinichi?” Ran stared over Conan at where Kid stood, his hands in his pockets, watching them interact like it was a mildly interesting TV show.

“Kudo?” Mouri’s voice growled from inside the room. “If that brat is here-”

Conan flinched as Mouri appeared behind Ran, full angry-father mode.

Kid, being the asshole that he was, blinked at them like he’d never heard the name Kudo Shinichi in his life. “Who, me? Oh, no, I’m Kaito. Kuroba Kaito.” He did a quick twist of his wrist, making a paper flower appear in his hand and offering it to Ran. “Amateur magic enthusiast. Pleasure to meet you. I was just escorting this guy home.” He patted Conan on the head with his free hand and Conan swatted his touch away.

Mouri glowered as Ran accepted the flower hesitantly. Her eyes flicked across Kid’s face, no doubt spotting all the little details that Conan had in how Kid’s face differed from Shinichi’s.

“Thank you?” Ran said, more of a question than an actual thanks.

“And you must be this child’s family?” Kid said like this was a perfectly normal situation and meeting them for the first time.

“He’s just a freeloader,” Mouri said, looking Kid over like he was searching for a trick. Like Kid was a trap.

Honestly, it would have been admirable instinct except that Conan knew it was only motivated by dislike for Shinichi.

“A doppelganger?” Ran said with a frown at her flower.

“He’s never met Shinichi-nii-san,” Conan piped up in his ‘little-kid’ voice. “It’s so funny that they look alike!”

“Funny,” Mouri said flatly. “Right. Well, thanks for bringing back the troublemaker. Better get back to being stuck in a room with absolutely nothing to do.”

“Ah.” Kid somehow made himself look believably abashed and apologetic, and just a bit shy. It was such a weird look on him that Conan couldn’t help staring. “I was hoping… Ah, I was told not to go back out, and I was hoping I might be able to have some company until we’re allowed out. I have a pack of cards?” he offered, pulling one from his pocket. “It would give us something to do?”

Mouri looked at the cards, looked at Kid’s too-familiar face, and sighed. “Whatever. Better than staring at the walls.”

Conan was sure he was the only one that saw the flicker of smugness in Kid’s smile. Sadly, there wasn’t a reason to add to Kid’s shin bruises as Ran stepped back to let them inside. Conan resigned himself to having to put up with a phantom thief for the near future.

*O*O*

Wei Ying rubbed at his temples. So, they had something killing people, an unhappy dead guy, and a potentially cursed child in the mix. He’d thought the kid was a little weird in the library, but there was ‘strange child’ syndrome and there was ‘well beyond the realm of normal’ and they had to be pretty far past normal for a child under ten to be so calm after seeing a dead body. No, not just calm. Curious, driven, and intent. He had caught the kid literally climbing the walls after all.

Wei Ying didn’t have a ton of experience with children. Just some visits with Shijie and adorably grumpy Jin Ling, who was pre-verbal, and every few months seeing Wen Yuan when he visited Wen Qing and Wen Ning. Wen Yuan was only three, ridiculously easygoing, and usually well behaved. And okay, Wei Ying had a bit of experience working with younger cultivators, both at Cloud Recesses and before with the Jiangs, but that was closer to pre-teen age, not barely-school-age.

Even without any real experience with that age group, he knew the kid definitely wasn’t responding like a child should. Wei Ying would know how a kid responded to trauma. He’d lived trauma around that age.

Ugh.

Too many problems, not enough answers.

There’d been an energy for a moment back there, right before he caught the kid… Not quite resentful, not quite spiritual, something strange and yet not strange at all in a way he didn’t have a definition for yet.

In the next room, the music was petering away. Wei Ying shook his head and moved toward the door.

The cultivators playing were people he should probably know the names of by now. Because he was terrible with names and not really allowed to go to sect meetings, Wei Ying had never really figured out who they were other than only one of them actually had the surname “Lan.” He pasted on a smile as heads jerked in his direction. “Ah, looks like you’ve been busy here.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Qiren said from the corner, looking like he wanted to jump right into a lecture, but didn’t have a topic quite yet. He seemed to always think the worst of Wei Ying. It wasn’t Wei Ying’s fault that his nephew fell in love with the most morally dubious cultivator currently still active. (Xue Yang, stripped of his cultivation and in prison didn’t count no matter how creepy he was.)

Because he was never going to get the man’s approval, Wei Ying had long stopped bothering to try, preferring to be himself. Lan Zhan loved him; that was enough. Wei Ying ignored the whole group and strode over to the body.

It was pale, still stained with blood, eyes the awful glassy filmy look that the dead had, disconcertingly half open. The man had guest robes on, and clearly had a painful time of it as he died. Lots of injuries. Not a great way to go. “So, what does the corpse know?”

“For the last time,” Lan Qiren said, “Inquiry speaks to spirits, not corpses—”

“Yeah, yeah, but this guy isn’t whole. There were bits of spirit at the cliff too.” Violent deaths and all. He would pull together eventually, either becoming a resentful ghost, or passing on, but for now he was a bit of a mess, physically and spiritually.  

One of the Lan made an interested sound, but Lan Qiren shot him a frown. “We had gathered that some parts might be missing. He seems to be confused about why he was out there alone in the first place.”

“Really?” The spirit hadn’t felt confused. Maybe Wei Ying’s side got the bits with that memory. “What about what pushed him? The scraps of him at the site mostly just remembered dying.”

“What method did you—”

“We’re looking into the potential murder of a guest; do my methods really matter that much at the moment?” Wei Ying said lightly. He looked at the corpse’s hands. The nails were torn, and there was a cut on one wrist, probably where the blood at the top of the cliff came from. The resentment on the body was the same desperation-tinged feeling as the bottom of the cliff; he hadn’t wanted to die and was unhappy about it.

Lan Qiren’s lips thinned. “The man’s name is Shen Ming, and he was part of a group of students here for a week of rest to purge their bodies of stress from their studies.” Wei Wuxian took in the name and almost immediately forgot it. Murder victim a student here with friends, important info memorized. “He did not get a clear view of what killed him, but he is sure that he was pushed.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty firm about that.” Wei Ying tried to find anything out of place on the body. Injuries aside, he was wearing one of the plain guest robes that the Cloud Recesses loaned to guests that stayed more than a weekend. Nothing stood out. Nothing on him that seemed like it would attract a vengeful ghost or any other sort of spirit. “He saw something while he was dying. A person with long hair up above, but it seems likely it was a ghost with the traces of resentment and the lack of physical evidence of its presence besides, well, the victim.”

“Our wards should keep that sort of spirit out.” Lan Qiren’s frown had gone concerned. Wei Ying felt a twinge of sympathy, because if the wards weren’t working right, they would have to go all around the mountain shoring up weak points. They had children here; they couldn’t take chances with their lives.

He shifted from foot to foot. “You know, I could…with a few talismans…”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, frown etched deeper in his brow. “Not yet. If our methods fail, then you may try yours, but it would be preferable to rely on orthodox cultivation methods.”

“Right.” Wei Ying sighed. No one ever wanted to use his inventions, not even the ones that weren’t actively using resentful energy. “I could at least add more wards to the guest quarters? All one hundred percent orthodox, Lan approved talismans, I swear.”

“Hm. That would be appreciated,” Lan Qiren said, looking like it was painful to express any kind of gratitude in Wei Ying’s direction.

“Awesome, I’ll get on that.” While leaving Lan disciples to try and find a spirit that shouldn’t have been able to get in here in the first place. Ugh. It would be so much easier if he could lay down some evil attracting talismans. While it wasn’t a guarantee of luring the spirit out, it was a lot more likely to find it than combing through bushes in the woods around them. “One more thing; what are we telling the group he was with?”

He got a grimace in response and a weary pinch to the bridge of Lan Qiren’s nose. “While it would be better for the investigation to withhold anything about what happened, for legal reasons, we’re going to have to disclose that he’s dead. Call it an accident for the moment.”

“At least until we have a face to pin the attack on. Er, if the group is involved.”

“They might be. And they might be this spirit’s next victims if they weren’t directing it to kill their companion. Now I need to go talk to the sect lawyer because this is going to be a mess when it gets out.”

Wei Ying winced. Boy was he glad that it wasn’t his job to do that. He also hoped that no one in the cultivation world would take this to be somehow his fault. Get blacklisted once, and everyone looked at you funny for anything that went wrong around you. “Good luck with that. I’ll just…” Wei Ying motioned at the body.

“Don’t do anything questionable to the body,” Lan Qiren said wearily, but it was testament to how stressed he was that that was the only thing he said before leaving.

Which left Wei Ying, a corpse, and a couple higher ups in the sect. the cultivators eyed him like they were anticipating having to chuck him out of the room. Wei Ying ignored then because he tried to give judgmental assholes as little of his attention as possible. For his mental health.

The corpse was, well, very dead. And bloody. A congealing bloody mess going into rigor mortis. The worst stage of a corpse before the decomposition kicked in. (Okay, no, the failure of bodily functions was up there in worst stages and—actually maybe he wasn’t going to think about all the grossness that happened when a person died.)

More for show than actually expecting to find anything, Wei Ying carefully shifted folds of cloth, looking for any objects that the man might have been carrying. Someone scoffed behind him, but Wei Ying ignored them. The resentment from a murdered body was pretty strong. An inactive object could hold resentment and be masked by the body’s energy. He opened the front of the robes and, “Oh, hey.” There was a necklace. A piece of heavy thread knotted at the back, and only a single wooden bead strung to it.

Traces of resentment clung to the bead.

Wei Ying maneuvered the thread over the victim’s head. He let the bead dangle, not touching it just yet because he had some sense no matter what Jiang Cheng used to say. His brother was biased. “This is the sort of thing you guys were supposed to be looking for,” Wei Ying said to the room at large.

“Oh, go do your heretical cultivation somewhere else,” the person who scoffed before said.

Wei Ying rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’ll go away right when you actually need me.” The person started saying something else, but Wei Ying went back to ignoring them. The bead was about as big around as his thumbnail, smooth and glossy like it had been lacquered not too long ago. Nothing carved or written on it. No obvious reason to hold resentment. Well—besides the fact that a murder victim had been holding it. Wei Ying was sure that this resentment was a bit different from the corpse’s though. He was sensitive to that kind of thing.

Anger, not fear and desperation. Something bitter mixed in. Regret, maybe, or betrayal. The bead wasn’t cursed, but it might have been possessed at some point. He poked it with a cautious finger, barely brushing the surface before pulling his hand away. Nothing. “Well, that’s disappointing.” Whatever it had been, it was drained now.

He looped the thread around the corpse’s wrist. It was a bad idea to steal something from someone who died violently after all.

“What’s happening to the body now?” Wei Ying asked one of the nearby disciples.

The woman frowned at him, but answered, which was nicer than some people managed around here. “It will be moved to cold storage until arrangements for a funeral are made and it can be transported back. There isn’t much more we can get from the body after all.”

Wei Ying nodded. “And his friends?”

“Can view the body, but it will likely upset them.” The woman laid a cover over the corpse, giving it a bit of dignity in death that it otherwise hadn’t been granted so far. “Hopefully the spirit that caused this is found soon and this whole thing can be put behind us.”

“Yeah, random deaths are kind of bad for online reviews,” Wei Ying joked. That got him annoyed looks all around. A tough crowd. He should have known better than to try and joke with a Lan that wasn’t Lan Zhan. He sighed. “Well, guess I should break the news to his group.” This was going to be a shit show.

He’d have to grab Lan Zhan for moral support.

[augment-techs]

awkward thoughts about Skull as a parent at 3am

is absolutely both the mother and the father biologically, because I cannot STAND the idea of him and Kim or Trini or some rando hooking up once and then this happened

either there is alien tech or sorcery involved; I'm not choosy

the realization that he's pregnant would lead to an instant panic attack; possibly the worst one in his life if he has the time in the scenario

this is largely due my headspace largely relegating Bulk to being somewhere else for a time

also Skull is a teen parent because that would JUST be his kind of luck; 16 minimum, 19 maximum

he would be hesitant and terrified to ask for help, because the only people he could go to are the scientists at Promethea or the Power Rangers, and heaven forbid it be easy for him

stops taking any medication he's on, which makes things worse on an epic scale if he's still in high school--he already lacks the preferred range of concentration ability due to adhd/autistism/migraines/depression/anxiety so with the added stress of carrying a baby he's hiding and his already poor grades diminishing horrifically, the teachers (Miss Appleby) would either be very worried, or very hard on him

gets morning sickness seventeen times a day and THIS is what gets a worried friend's attention (Bulk, or Billy, or Kim) when he looks like he's going to die from how dehydrated he is

almost DOES die from the dehydration and blood that starts coming up in the vomit

someone finally gets the truth out of him and takes him to a professional at about five months along

EVERYONE freaks out because his body is NOT designed for this AND he is barely showing at all when he should be a blimp by this time

for some reason my brain says he carries to the eighth month, but goes into early "labor" because of the stuff that happened to get him this far breaking down and ruining his internal systems

he does not get a C-Section and does not deliver out the back end because I want this to be absolutely horrible for him

I also want him to win the "whose labor sucked more" game when his friends--post Rangering--have their own kids and they're trying to freak out the new blood; despite Skull never bringing it up

Spike isn't as small as he could be, but for all that he utterly DESTROYED Skull's internal and external organs, he's also not very big either

but he did have all of his head hair straight out of the gate, which Skull likes to bring up when reminiscing or to embarrass him

yes, Spike is his REAL first name because, and Billy likes to quote this a lot, "I might as well start trying to ward off evil spirits now, since we all know my luck with monsters is gonna rub off on the little guy," was Skull's explanation; without much heat because he was fucking exhausted and delirious when he came up with it

thinks his stretchmarks are his best feature, despite the fact that carrying around a baby also gave him the ass he was lacking for most of his life and--for only about as long as was necessary--boobs for breastfeeding which turned into much more solid objects as he got older

ends up with a million pictures of him via his friends of tiny baby Spike, but also of the both of them constantly falling asleep together

he pays his friends back by getting pictures of them with the baby in all sorts--but mostly napping--too

[wetbloodworm]

time for a post about niamh! just some general thoughts about my girl, a bit all over the place

she's turning out much nicer than anticipated when i first planned her out, which i think is partly a fault of mine and struggling to be rude even in roleplay lmao. y’know, like how it’s hard to pick the mean options in video games. i don't mind, though, i think she's interesting and i like that she views the rest of the Bullies/Dolphins as her friends that she cares very much about

she's also a thief that hasn't done any stealing in the campaign so far (despite her absurd sleight of hand), which is one part me being very conscious of Consequences and one part character choice. i think niamh chooses not to steal from those who aren't very well off, and is largely careful about stealing from shops as well. i think she also like... primarily steals for jobs, not just for funsies or on impulse or anything like that? if she's stealing something, it's on purpose and for a reason

when they were at the ruby’s house she was absolutely tempted to take SOMETHING because Rich Person, but that’s an ally.

she was less careful/choosy about her targets early on, for a number of reasons.

she started off stealing because she was felt frustrated and resentful and trapped, and she was lashing out. stealing was an outlet for feeling powerless and betrayed by her family. now that she's left home she feels a little bit more in control of her situation, and she has other things to focus on, and while the stress of being hunted by her hag is there she's generally happier overall, and busier, and needs that outlet less. she doesn’t steal out of spite or because she’s upset now, she steals because she’s good at it

another factor is she grew up a rich kid, and then she only had the money she took before leaving, which went fast. so she had to scramble to take care of herself for the first time, and she cared less about who she stole from.

ALSO as a rich kid, tbh her empathy for the poor and her awareness took time to develop. she didn't look down on people, necessarily, but it didn't quite occur to her how stealing something that seemed small to her could ruin people who don't have much to begin with. niamh had to see how poverty actually affected people, how her actions actually affected people. THEN she only started stealing from those who could afford it. or assholes.

niamh leaving home was one part needing to get away from her family and one part fear of her hag finding her if she stayed still for too long.

her relationship with her parents before the hexblood reveal was... fine. it was alright. they weren’t GREAT parents but they weren’t the worst. they were just kind of there, and sometimes they were bossy, and really the nanny and the cook had more of a positive effect on her emotionally growing up, but they were fine. sometimes they’d give her things, and sometimes they were kind without strings attached. and especially when niamh was young enough to not really know better, they seemed perfectly fine to her! the Reveal was the start of things getting less pleasant. first niamh was upset that her mother kept this from her alongside being upset about not being human very suddenly from her perception, and eventually niamh had to find out on her own about the hag hunting her thing, so she was upset about THAT burden being placed on her against her will. there was tension between her parents, too, since her father hadn’t known about this either, and niamh got the vibe that her parents managed to blame HER for this tension. her relationship with both parents soured, and as niamh got older and examined the situation more and stayed upset she decided this was all real fucked up and hey, fuck her parents actually? fuck her mom for burdening her with the hag situation so she could marry a nobleman, fuck her dad for getting weird when he learned she wasn’t technically his (or only his? how do the genetics work here), fuck them both for acting like this is such an annoyance for THEM that SHE caused by turning blue one day. also generally fuck them for being shitty parents because she was a teenager who could recognize that more and was developing strong opinions about how she should be treated and what she should be able to do.

then, y’know. the hag thing. i imagine she didn’t figure that part out immediately, that she was going to be hunted so that she could also be a hag one day. hexbloods are relatively new to ariknott iirc so that would’ve had to be research that she did on her own trying to find answers to what this meant for her. and that was a horrifying thing to learn, but at first she didn’t. know what to DO about that, y’know? no one really had answers for that. she just was going to be a hag one day. which definitely sent her spiraling for a bit, that feeling that it was inevitable that one day she’d lose all sense of herself and become a monster. she mostly comforted herself by convincing herself that she was safe at home, there were guards and it was Home so it was Safe, and like, no hag had shown up YET, right? so maybe she was special. maybe no one was looking for her. she was never FULLY convinced of that but niamh is good at denial. for a while, anyway, because eventually she became more and more nervous over the idea of being a sitting duck here. like, obviously her home at the estate would be the first place a hag would look, right? the home where the woman who made the deal lived? she’d come here first, right? she’d absolutely come here first. bringing that idea up with her parents didn’t go over too well because as complicated as their relationship had become, niamh was their only heir and they couldn’t just send her away. besides, where would she go? be realistic, niamh.

so yeah, combo “I Hate My Parents I’m Going To Run Away And Become A Thief Out Of Spite” and “If I Stay Here My Hag Will Find Me”

i need a full name for her, both just to have one and because she’s nobility and her Family Name is probably a thing i should figure out

Niamh Clodagh Garrahan

there we go

i don’t know why i’ve just decided to go full irish with her name. i have to get my inspiration somewhere

it’s funny to me that i gave her heroforge figure a rapier thinking she’d be more into that and she’s turned out to be a shortbow kinda girl

thinking about it and if the hexblood thing didn’t happen niamh would’ve still ended up resentful of her parents because of who she is and who they are. it was really just a catalyst

i’ve mentioned this... god, somewhere? probably my dreamwidth dnd PC analysis post and maybe also twitter. anyway niamh is aroace. i think maybe sex/romance-neutral leaning towards repulsed. just not her thing, she doesn’t want anything to do with it, y’all do what makes you happy but leave me out of it pls

sometimes niamh cuts her hair short right before going on a job so she doesn’t have to deal with it being in the way. it’ll all grow back like within a day or something but at least she’s free for that brief period of time.

the ‘eerie token’ thing hexbloods can do... she can remove her teeth and nails ‘harmlessly’, apparently, but does that mean ‘painlessly’? idk, if it’s painless she’s tried before but if not she’ll just stick with making tokens from her hair, thank you

i’m losing steam here, any more niamh thoughts will have to be a separate post

bye friends xoxo