#and then you add more depth w dark and light and go like oh. maybe this can still be salvaged after all in time lol ok

[ayyponine]

art update fr april part 2/2

[jmrothwell]

hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters / rulie

(Takes place in the I'm With You series)

There’s a short moment as Reggie wakes up where he marvels at how realistic the dream he just had was. Wondering if it would be possible to sketch out the beauty who’d surely be haunting his thoughts from now on.

He shifts, trying to stretch and scratch at the tickly itch irritating his nose. His arm refuses to move, inexplicably heavier than usual. The weight across his chest tightens with a hum that does not belong to him and he rapidly blinks his eyes open to the hazy dim light of early dawn.

Reggie forgets how to breathe seeing Julie still sleeping soundly, her head pillowed on his shoulder, dark curls wild and evidently the thing that had been tickling his nose. He carefully brushes his free hand through the strands, tucking a few behind her ear. 

She’s real. She’s real and still here. 

He swallows in an attempt to hold back the sob building uncomfortably in his throat. Though that does little for the warm tears welling up in his eyes. 

At least, he hopes she’s real. That this isn’t just an extension of the dream. 

His hand traces over the warmth of her back. Trying to combat the insidious thoughts sprouting up like weeds in his mind. Feels his eyes getting heavy again as he relaxes under her.

When he blinks his eyes open again–the sunlight streaming more brightly through his windows–she isn’t there. A sharp pain cracks through his heat as he tries to catalogue every detail he can recall about her. Perhaps not the healthiest thing to do in this situation but he’d rather cling to the first moment of warmth he’d had, imagined or not. 

A clatter from behind startles him, and he jumps, quickly sitting up and turning to face the noise. His eyes go wide for a different reason though. 

“Sorry, sorry.”  Julie says, from the middle of the pile of books she had knocked over. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

She’s avoiding looking directly at him, and the little bit of relief he felt at seeing her again dies a little. Apparently, the easy familiarity they’d managed to find in the dark had faded away. 

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t actually.” He adjusts so he’s no longer twisting his spine uncomfortably. “Whatcha doing?”

Her hands twist in front of her, face contorts slightly, and while he’s not certain she looks almost guilty. Maybe she was trying to sneak out? The thought crosses his mind, raveling down around his spine to trap his heart in an uncomfortable grip. Mentally he immediately shakes it away as best as he can, no need to be assuming the worst. . .because despite how he barely knows her still, he can’t handle the thought of being left alone again. 

“You, you don’t have to tell me.” He tacks on, if only to end the silence. 

She sighs, rather loudly, the tension in her shoulders bleeding away with the breath. “Actually,” she says, finally making eye contact with him, and he could lose himself in the depths of those dark eyes. “I was trying to see if maybe you had a map.”

“A map?” 

“Yeah, see if I can figure out how to get home.”

“Oh.” There were those mental weeds again. She was only here because she didn’t know how to get back home. Of course she’d want to get back as soon as she could. “Sorry I don’t think I do.

“The gas station down the street might?” He’s quick to add on, hating how dejected she looks. “We could maybe go look for one there?”

“We?” She says, and the glimmer of a hopeful smile starts to break across her face. “You’re going to help me?”

“Only if you want.”

Her dark eyes bore into his as the smile grows the smallest bit. The only sign he gets that she doesn’t absolutely hate the idea before she says, “I’d love your help.”

That sentence really shouldn’t light his chest up the way it does. He’s quick to get off the futon then, quickly snagging a set of clothes he knows should be clean in order to change. 

He catches sight of himself in the cracked mirror he’s avoided for weeks now. Winces at the sight of his hair, longer than he’s ever let it get in his life and looking absolutely dreadful. He’d stopped taking care of it, wondering what even was the point. However, he can vaguely still feel the way Julie’s fingers had tangled in the strands and before he fully realizes what he’s doing finds himself trying to comb it out with his fingers. 

“Trying to impress someone?” Julie teasingly asks from behind him causing him to startle slightly. 

“No.” He quickly says, a vibrant blush burning its way up his neck tries to implicate him otherwise. Only getting worse when he turns to look at her, face bright with a real smile aimed at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. They almost glitter when she smiles like that. 

“Sure,” her nose wrinkles up slightly with her teasing breathy giggle. He already determined last night he loved the sound of her laugh but is nearly struck dumb by how adorable it is to watch. 

Wants nothing more than to swallow up that giggle as he kisses away that teasing smirk. 

“Come on.” He says after clearing his throat and getting his boots on. 

He pockets his hands as they leave the apartment he’d decided to claim for himself. He’d originally tried to stay at his parents house, but somehow it being so silent for so long was more unsettling than all the times it had been filled with the sounds of fighting. 

A tugging on his jacket pulls him out of his thoughts and he glances down in time to see Julie pull her hand away. 

“Sor-” She starts, an echo from earlier in the morning. Retreating back into that uncertainty, he much preferred her teasing and laughter. 

“It’s ok,” he cuts her off, he pulls out his hand in order to point the direction the gas station is in. While he doesn’t know if it’s the right move he picks up her hand rather than return his own to the pocket. “Shouldn’t take that long.”

“Lead the way.” She says, her finger tightening around his, clinging like she’s his only tether from floating away. Maybe it’s the other way around. Either way he adjusts his grip to lace their fingers together, his own smile returning as she starts to hum, a song he’s not familiar with. 

He’s still not entirely sold on this not being an extremely vivid dream but right now with her hand in his, he really doesn’t care.

[hanibalistic]

#507A9E | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fluff, high school au, faint mutual pining, implied rich kid au

word count | 2190

warning | fighting, mentions of injuries

tag | @fluffyskzclub​

note | i miss hyunjin pt.2 // maybe a universe?

the first thing that popped into your head when you saw students running toward the school courtyard, whispering and chanting about a fight that had broken out, was that the person better not be hyunjin.

you knew hyunjin ever since middle school but you two only recently introduced yourselves to each other when your homeroom teacher made it your responsibility, as the class president, to keep track of him—both his poor grades and his even poorer conduct.

you two never had to chance to speak to each other before the beginning of your tutoring sessions. surely, even if you had the chance to talk to him, you would not have taken it with his rebellious reputation contrasting so stronger your clean-slate one. most of your encounters were of you frowning and sneering at him whenever you saw him get taken away to the principal's office, or when he and his friends create a ruckus during school assemblies.

your poor impression of him stayed long even after you began tutoring him in the corner of the school library, afraid that you would be seen together. he was always late, sometimes with a hazy attitude and sometimes with bruises and cuts on his face. he was always late to the sessions, but he was also always present.

on his third failed calculus test hyunjin came around.

you never knew why but he suddenly did a 360-degree turn and he came around. he started to pay attention in class and he paid attention to you, he did his homework and the additional questions you assigned him, he jotted down notes and read them during his free time. with the third failed test, he decided he would work hard for some reason.

he was still late to the tutoring sessions, though.

but! with his newfound motivation, you, too, came around and began seeing him in a much friendlier light. you greeted him in the halls, you talked to him outside of the library and about topics other than academics (like his adorable puppy kkami, who you adore more than hyunjin, not that adore the boy or anything), you two moved from the corner to the main study center of the library, and you learned to treat his wounds whenever he has them.

hyunjin became a good friend of yours, and he only listened to you, which you realized after a friend mentioned it to you. you thought it was preposterous, but the thought of it made your stomach flutter with faint romantic delight anyway, the knot in your throat refusing to admit out loud that you might just find him the smallest bit attractive.

like when he would smile confidently at his practice test as he hands it to you, only for it to turn into a cute frown when he watches you add cross after cross on his answers. or when he would arch one brow at you in acknowledgment, a boyish smirk playing on his lips, after you accidentally catch his eyes in the classroom during a long lecture. or when his solid, pressuring gaze lays itself on you as you tend to his wounds outside in the school garden, his eyes holding the gentlest of affection as he looks to you as the only person to have ever existed on this earth.

no, you are not attracted to him. not at all.

"excuse me–i'm sorry, excuse me!" you said as you pushed yourself through the overly excited crowd.

once you made your way to the front, your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed. there hyunjin was, hands clutching a poor student's wrinkled collar, and the scar under his eye reopened. it was him who got in a fight! you did not know why you hoped for an alternative.

there was a glint in hyunjin's eyes—something akin to happiness, a thrilling excitement, perhaps, like the freeing of his soul being trashed into the depths of his easy insults and clenched fists. there was no anger in him, not an ounce. you knew what his anger looked like when it was directed to another, and this was not it.

this was free will. he was fighting because his body could and he yearned for the temporary excitement of it.

you felt your heart sink a little. out of everything that could make his face light up like this, fighting people has to take the crown? you wanted hyunjin to be happy but not with such a method! you also don't want to completely strip the entertainment away from him either!

if you wanted him to stop, the best way would be to find something else that can make him feel as excited as he does now, but what could it be?

"hwang hyunjin!" you hollered when you saw him throw a punch at the other student, your thoughts vanishing immediately.

stomping forward, you grabbed onto the back of his shirt and yanked him behind you. you pushed the other student away, glaring at him to run away before you turned to hyunjin. you tilted your head then, looking at him carefully, then you walked toward him.

"oh, come on, [name]," he whined, preparing to move around you. "don't ruin the fun!"

"hyunjin–hyunjin, look at me," you said, putting your hands on his shoulders and stopping him from side-stepping you. when he focused on you, his eyes turning soft, you smiled. "stop."

he stayed silent for a second before he sneered. he tried to shove you aside. "move away–"

"hyunjin," you sighed, feeling the longing for movement in his body. "do you understand you did something bad."

"if you are trying to talk me out of fighting–"

"you understand," you interrupted him, "that you did something bad."

you could hear voices in the background criticizing you. you were unsure of what, exactly. it was either of you stopping the fight or of you assuming you could stop the fight by talking. you ignored the background noises and focused on hyunjin, looking at him expectantly. you just needed him to tell you he understands.

"jesus, yes! now move away–"

"great. then i'm so sorry about this."

hyunjin was about to side-step you again, adding force into his hands as he pushed you aside to search for the kid who ran off, but you removed your grip on him and took a step back to get into position. his confusion worked in your favor when you anchored your weight on your feet, and with a strong swing, you punched him square in the face, knocking him down.

you grimaced at the pain that reverberates through your knuckles, while hyunjin laid on the floor with his face covered by his hands.

"what the fuck!" he yelled into his hands, his head pressed against the grass field with a pained look.

you scoffed at him as you rubbed your hands together. you felt worried for a second, but then it cooled down when you came to terms that he has got to have experienced worse. it was not the impact of the punch that made him dramatize his reaction (although, surely it did hurt his pretty face) but the unpredictableness of the punch that did so.

he would be fine. he always was.

you looked around you, glaring at everyone who came looking for a show, and you waited for them to disperse before you return your attention to hyunjin.

"come on, let's go to the nurse's office," you said as you moved closer to him, knelt, and took his hands from his face.

not a single stain of your punch. it was all just the invisible pain and his tendency to exaggerate.

"you look fine."

"i'm not fine!" he retorted with a whiny shout, snatching his hands away from yours and sitting up. he placed his hand on one propped-up knee and turned to you, annoyed. "you punched me!"

"talking clearly wasn't doing the job, so i did what i had to do!"

"punching me is what you had to do? not call a teacher or something?" he exclaimed incredulously, eyes widening at you in disbelief.

you closed your mouth. you had not wanted to get him in trouble so you resulted in dealing with it on your own. he has a week-long clean streak of not messing with the teacher, you wanted to keep it that way. even though you failed to consider if anybody present would snitch on him, or you, or maybe even the both of you.

"yes...?" you squeaked as you ducked your head, then you slightly eyed up, grimacing at him apologetically. "i didn't want to get you in trouble."

hyunjin watched you through the silk of his long black hair. he took in your words; the way you said it so bashfully, and how you shrunk under the thought of you making a mistake on his behalf. he understood that it was ultimately your good intentions looking out for his own good. your contrasting naivety shone into his eyes, and he wanted to cradle your face in his hands and be gentle with you.

heaving a sigh, he leaned on his hand that supported his torso up. licking his lower lip, he shared a knowing look with you and asked, "you know how to throw a punch."

you scowled lightly then, playing with your fingers as you sat on the grass field. "yeah, my mom had me learn how to fight ever since i was young."

"that makes sense. self-defense is good."

"yeah," you breathed out a laugh, "a little more than that."

"hmm?"

"my mother has a very odd job."

hyunjin smiled questioningly but he didn't ask. he merely took a look behind you at the grand structure of the school he stumbled upon after his parent's death and he nodded in acceptance.

he was never supposed to enter an elite school like this, where every student seems to have some dark family secrets down their sleeves. dark secrets not as in family feuds and estrangements (although those were certainly present as well) but dark secrets as in blood money and corrupt authorities.

rich people problems, but make it guns and roses.

he would not be surprised if your family had some weird history hidden in the closet. what he was wondering about was how you got stuck in a normal middle school with him.

"is your nose okay?" you asked timidly, facing forward at him.

your expression made him recall the time he found you wiping tears from your eyes at the library, glaring at his failed calculus test as if it had been your own, and he realized that you did care and you weren’t doing this because you were asked to.

it made him remember how most things he has done—studying, paying attention, staring at you, not getting into trouble—have been for you.

he just could not control his habits sometimes and he hoped you wouldn’t get too upset with him today for missing the tutoring session.

hyunjin hummed. it was fine, the pain subsided long ago, but he would be damned to not take your concern to an advantage. pouting quickly, he twisted his torso and let himself fall on your lap. he could feel you panic above him and he giggled lowly to himself, his eyes closed.

"i feel dizzy, you might have given me a concussion," he said.

you gasped a little, then you denied, "no way, that can't be possible."

"don't invalidate my concussion," hyunjin said. "it is what i feel."

you sucked in a breath.

there is no point treading through that territory with him, there is no point treading through that territory with anyone.

sensing your silence, hyunjin dared to open one eye to peek up at you. you were staring down at him, eyes ablaze with curiosity as you waited for him to speak.

the sunlight fell like gold sand and split when it reached your head, casting sparks over you. almost a spitting image of an angel, if he knew what an angel looked like. 

your innocence was as gentle as his mother once was, and your determination a faint recall of his father's brightness. but your face was entirely your own; your eyes, nose, cheeks, lips. a kind face, a calm face, a face of someone he has come to fall catastrophically in love with.

hyunjin felt his eyes waver, he felt the warm watery dust his in eyes waver like flashes of lights seeping through gaps of leaves on a tree. his fingers itched to reach up to your face, to cradle you, to be kind to you, but he pressed them to his sides and only allowed himself a smile at your direction.

"i'm going to rest my face," he said.

you frowned, but the guilt of punching him asked you to stay with him, so you nodded. "okay."

hyunjin relaxed on the ground. his eyes were closed, but if they weren't, you would have seen—the thrill in his eyes of being able to be with you, the excitement of being close to you.

it would not be something akin to happiness, it would be happiness.

[worldwidebt7]

Hell[L]ing || 05

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 2,974

§ — Rating: M § — Warnings: None. Just an awkward AF encounter.

§ — A/N: Gone for so long, but not forgotten! I love this story, and I don't plan on letting it die any time soon~ I need a manager-- I've got way too many projects! Anyone want the job? LOL

Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

You were definitely beginning to question your decision-making skills, or lack thereof. Any sane person would never let a man they met once into their isolated house on a rainy day— it was an exact recipe that stereotypical horror films follow. And you were to be the soon-hunted lead female. Whether or not you get killed milliseconds before the credits started rolling depended on how you treated the situation henceforth.

Standing in your bathroom, you contemplated your options as your fingers ran over the plush fabric of the grey towel you intended to hand to the soaking wet gentleman currently standing in your kitchen. First, you could continue on the path you were currently set on: heading back down the stairs to help the supposedly sick boy dry off and offer him a warm drink. This would most certainly end poorly if your expertise of the genre was anything to go by. Assist the helpless stranger, let his quirky personality charm you, then die. Not preferable.

You could, adversely, call the police or one of your friends to come save you and distract your company until they arrived. This would be the smarter move, though you have your doubts that the situation warrants such a reaction. Besides what your extrasensory abilities allowed you to perceive, your neighbor has done nothing to make you think he holds any ill-will against you. Having him forcibly removed from your home would only certainly sour his opinion of you.

Your last option, from what you could organize from your frayed thoughts, was to expedite option one, in which you dried him off, warmed him up, and sent him on his way before any amount of intimate time passed. You figured that this was the best option, even if it weren’t particularly the safest. You had no reason to suspect the boy of any violence or threat, but he made you inherently uncomfortable either way.

His emotions began to blip at a faster pace— nervousness, worry— were the rate of his emotional markers linked to his heart beat? That was something new. Well, everything dealing with this boy’s emotions was new to you. Taking a deep breath, you turn and leave the bathroom. You suppose your prolonged absence has made your guest begin to panic, and you really didn’t want to have his sporadic emotions to get more intense; you were already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Scurrying down your wooden stairs, you felt his interest perk at the sound of your footsteps. Anticipation— but gentle anticipation. Warm, welcoming; you almost wanted to hurry to put yourself back in his line of vision, and as you stepped back into the kitchen, you felt the wave of relief that washed over him. His accelerated heartbeat kept the bursts of emotions abrupt, but they were soothed, a welcomed change from the abrasive concern.

His eyes were locked onto your form, taking in every miniscule movement you made. You made sure to avoid his gaze and cleared your throat as you stepped in front of him.

“Here,” You held out the towel for him to take. “You should probably dry yourself off…” He eyed the soft fabric for a moment, a shy gratefulness melding with slight apprehension. You sent him a warm smile when a few moments had passed and nudged the towel towards him a bit. With that, he tentatively reached forward and gently took the cloth from you. You retreated your hand swiftly and as he brought the towel to his chest you sidestepped towards the counter. “I’ll make something warm for you to drink, yeah?”

As you busied yourself, you didn’t see him lift the towel and softly burry his face in it, drying himself. You did, however feel the warm glow of comfort sprout in the air like quickly blooming flowers. With your back turned to him, you didn’t bother hiding the pleased look on your face. Finally— you thought— an emotion from him that didn’t barrage your senses.

With water heating up in your kettle and the packet of cocoa already retrieved from the pantry, you no longer had anything to distract yourself with. In an attempt to make this spontaneous visit less awkward and less unnerving, you turned to make light conversation. To begin, what on earth the sickly boy was doing wandering about in the rain.

“So…” you started, catching his attention immediately, his nerves returning. “Your name is Taehyung, right?” you received a delayed nod. “I’m Y/N. Ah, though you already knew that, right? From last time?” Another nod. Talkative, this one. You supposed you should get straight to your most burning question at the moment. “I gotta ask… I did extend the invitation, but… is there something I can do for you?” He visibly stiffened and the blips of his anxiety sped up with what, you were sure of now, was his increased heart rate. Oh, the headache. Perhaps you should rephrase. “W-what I mean is, since your health is poor, why’d you come over when it was raining of all days?” This seemed to calm him, as the frequency of his beats trickled off.

He didn’t answer you for a long while, opting to look down at the floor in contemplation. You did your best not to stare— you didn’t want to spike his unease once more— but you were finding it difficult to do so, seeing as the wet boy in your kitchen, now that he was up close and personal, was too beautiful to bear. Your previous appraisal of his other-worldly appearance was far too lenient; how could anyone like him possibly exist at all? And his dark hair— curled more from its damp state and hanging further over his obsidian eyes— only seemed to add more depth to the perfection of the features it framed. How utterly unfair it was for someone to be so beautiful.

“I—” you just about jumped at his voice, breaking the silence, but not cutting through it. The melodic depth of it filled the room. “…bad day…” he was pensive with his words— giving you all you needed to know and no more. There was no deception to him, but he was clearly safeguarding information, keeping it locked away.

You gave a thoughtful hum, but you couldn’t hide the shock and confusion you felt. He came to you because he was having a bad day? Someone he didn’t know and only met once before? You couldn’t help but feel this was… odd, for lack of a better term. And he seemed to realize this as well, as his eyes never once met yours. His apprehension was understandable now, and his fear of being turned away— he really had no reason to be here.

Still, your heart warmed at the thought that he had come to you for comfort, as unexpected as it was. And, slowly, the majority of your concerns over the situation began to melt away. Yes, he was a strange boy, yes, there were things about him that were odd and seemed unnatural, but… there was nothing aggressive, or dangerous about his intentions. He seemed more like a child than anything else with how small his large frame looked; like he was trying to curl in on himself.

A sharp whistle pierced the gentle atmosphere and both you and Taehyung jumped nearly out of your skin. You recognized the sound as your kettle quickly after having your nerves fried, but your guest was immediately on the defensive, his fear refusing to subside as he took a pathetic few steps back from the offending object.

“Sorry!” you called out to him and you turned on your heel to remove the kettle from the stove. His confusion was evident, and mixed with the other strong emotions bombarding you, you were almost inclined to say that he’s never heard the shriek of a kettle. The noise subsided as you lifted the item off the heat, turning the burner off in the process. “Phew— that scared me!” At your laughter, his confusion turned into curiosity, and his fear ebbed away.

You emptied the chocolate powder into one of your mugs and promptly drowned it in the hot water from your kettle, the smell of hot chocolate immediately permeating through the air. You se the kettle back down on the stove before stirring the drink, your neighbor’s curiosity only heightening. You turned back to him and beckoned him forward, placing the mug of hot chocolate on the island in front of him in hopes he would sit. When he did nothing, a breathy chuckle escaped you.

“You can sit down if you’d like,” you offered, hoping he would oblige. You realize that this directly opposes your original plan to make this visit as quick as possible, but his uncertainty had found it’s way into your heart. You weren’t sure if it was because he was often ill, but he seemed so unsure of how to interact with other people, like he hasn’t had much social interaction before. It was endearing in a way, and even though there were still some things that concerned you about the readings you got from him, you felt inclined to spend time trying to unravel him.

Or you could simply be suffering from your own solitude.

Either way, you smiled when he slowly made his way over to the counter and seated himself on the stool that the mug sat directly in front of. He still had the towel you had offered him clutched to his chest and seemingly hadn’t dried much more than his face with it. Cautiously, he eyed the mug of steaming liquid.

“Do you not like hot chocolate?” you asked, suddenly aware that it’s possible for people to have different tastes. Or worse, because of his illness he couldn’t drink it at all? “Oh, I’m sorry! Can you even drink hot chocolate? I should have asked before. If there’s something else—”

“No! I—” you blinked, surprised. It was the first time he had spoken so suddenly or with so much conviction. He seemed shocked by his own voice, and immediately receded into himself, almost as if berating himself for his outburst. He chewed on his lower lip, “…I’ve never had it… hot chocolate…” you blinked again.

“Really?” He nodded, and his hand slid forward, reaching for the mug. When you saw his fingers wrap around it, you realized how large his hands were— yet another ridiculously beautiful feature as you couldn’t help but think about how elegant the lines of hands were curved around the dwarfed mug. If he noticed you staring, nothing in his demeanor showed any discomfort at the attention, but you were quick to correct yourself when you became aware of it yourself. “Are you sure you can have it…?” you didn’t want to accidentally poison your neighbor if he was allergic to chocolate. A shake of his head did little to reassure you.

“I’ll drink it,” he said with confidence. He raised the mug, his other hand joining the action as the ceramic was completely eclipsed. It took you a moment to realize that he may not be are of the heat.

“Oh, wait, that’s hot—!” you were too late, and you watched him take a rather large sip from the cup. You blanched, expecting him to burn himself, but he only lowered the mug back to the counter, both hands still firmly encasing it, seemingly unaffected. Huh. Well then, wasn’t that odd?

After a moment of deliberation, excitement burst through the air and Taehyung’s eyes lit up. He quickly took another sip of the drink and from the rush of emotions you knew he was absolutely thrilledby the taste of hot chocolate. You stifled a good-natured laugh, not wanting him to think you were making fun of him, and settled for an endeared smile as you leaned forward to rest against the island counter. Why were you so scared of this boy again?

“I’m going to guess that you like it?” you couldn’t help but tease him a little, and, thankfully, he didn’t seem to take offense; he was far too enraptured by the sweet beverage before him. He nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he said, cheer popping in the air around him, making you want to squeal at his child-like wonder at something so simple. Still, you had to wonder— how is it that he never had hot chocolate before? And if he hadn’t had something so elementary, what else had he not been privy to and why? You suppose you could chalk it up to him being ill often, and if such is the case, he must have been sick for much of his life. You wondered who had been in charge of his health all these years and why they refused him such small pleasures such as hot chocolate, making you again second-guess giving him the cocoa treat. But the pure bliss he exhibited bade you believe that just one cup wouldn’t hurt and that it was surly worth it.

He had been so wrought with nerved when he appeared at your back door that any positive change in his emotions was a welcome one. Perhaps he would leave having a better day than when he came. You could only hope.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said simply before moving on, trying to keep whatever stilted conversation you had going. “I’m surprised you came here if you were having a bad day… did you and Seokjin fight?”

At the mention of his roommate’s name, he stiffened, some of his anxiety returning. You must have hit the nail on the head, because as his fingers fidgeted around the mug he looked off to the side towards the floor. You felt bad immediately, not wanting to sour his mood again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry,” you straightened a bit at your mistake, readying to correct yourself if given the opportunity. “If you want to talk about it, um…” What could you offer him, honestly? Why would he divulge the details of his roommate quarrel with you? He barely knew you. Still, he did come to you— as a source of comfort, as a distraction, or as escape, you’ll never know. You did know that you may be his only choice out here in the remote wilderness and so, to an extent, you felt a certain obligation to offer him support. After all, should something happen to you, he and Seokjin were the only ones in miles that could aid you, and you could only hope that they would do so without hesitation.

However, he shook his head, signaling that he didn’t wish to divulge the issue. More mystery then, it seems. You nodded and gave no further attempts to interrogate despite the burning questions that nagged at you, knowing full well about the need to keeps certain things to yourself.

“I…” he began, suddenly standing. Startled, you too took a step back from the counter as well. “I should go…” he placed your towel on the island next to the half-empty mug after a long moment, seemingly disappointed to part with it. Taehyung hesitated, but eventually took a large step away from where he had been seated and began to make his way to the back door.

His sudden, hurried departure had you reeling. You had wanted a brief, eventless encounter, so letting him leave now would probably be for the best. Yet, despite all your concerns, you were still opening your mouth.

“W-wait!” you called after him, stepping out from behind your countertop. He immediately halted in his tracks, shifting slightly so he could see you out of his peripherals. His uncertainty thrummed in the air like drums, making your otherwise silent home ridiculously loud. “The… the rain…” For the first time in the last ten minutes, you peered outside your window, expecting to see the previous torrential downpour. However, to your surprise, it had calmed to a drizzle at some point during your neighbor’s momentary visit. When had that happened?

Sensing that you didn’t have anything else to say to him, Taehyung continued his journey to your glass doors slowly. You watched him with a rock settling into your stomach— this didn’t feel right to you, and as he opened the door, you called out to him again.

“Taehyung,” this time, at the sound of his name leaving your mouth, his head spun around completely, eyes wide and panic vibrating from him. No, not panic; something akin to panic, but not quite so negative. Something warmer… ugh, trying to decipher his emotions was like learning a new language. So, instead of feeding into your present headache, you continued, immediately embarrassed by what you say. “Come back again sometime… we can have lunch.” You felt the heat in your face from your blush and then, unexpectedly, it was as if the very space around you was placed under a heat lamp and Taehyung’s not-panic set your nerves on fire. What the hell was going on?

You didn’t have time to dwell, because as soon as the shocked, anxious boy recovered, he nodded quickly and slipped out the door, taking his blips of emotions and quickly disappearing into the tree line separating your properties.

With his departure, you could finally breathe, and you found that a tightness that you hadn’t been aware of begun to unravel in your chest. Your migraine, which you were hoping would leave with your neighbor, proceeded to hammer away in your skull. As much as you wanted to dissect your more than odd exchange with the onyx-eyed boy, you couldn’t imagine thinking about much of anything in your present condition.

“Bath…” you groaned, massaging your temples and groggily treaded your way upstairs to soak away the pain in scalding, fragrant water.

Tags:

@sana-b​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @babbitybabo​ @softmxchi​ @halijahfan @chimchimsauce​ @coolavidreader​ @beesthoughtsblog​ @breadcaaat​ @lucian-kinnder​ @wolfgirl-m​  @sogrossstuff  @kpop-nolife​ @unoriginal-username15432​ @cvbachacbitch​ @rhayad​ @lladyow​ @jiminot7​ @parkminhee​ @ditttiii​ @sathom013​ @megazdl​ @sugabased

[duckiee-the-ducky]

Scent: Errorink Fanfic

original “Scent” by @lemonadebytrade

Key: (M)=Mind (W)=Whisper (G)=Grumble/Growl (S)=Shout

Error closed his eyes taking in the wonderful scent.

He never smelt anything like it. The smell warmed his body and provided him with extra comfort. Error loved the smell of Ink. For multiple reasons, actually;

It reminded him of all his good memories.

He always wanted to be around it. 

It told many great stories.

Comforted him in his weakest times.

It also meant, Ink was there.

Ink looked at Error and gave a small smile.

Ink: Comfy?

Error opened his eyes and realized what position he was in.

Error: Uh... yeah..?

Ink chuckled. He thought Error was very cute when he was being shy, even though they’re married.

Ink: Really? You don’t sound too sure of yourself-

(S)Error: -I am sure! ...Uh...

Error blushed and looked away. Ink couldn’t help but smile.

Ink: Wanna get something to eat before we hit the hay?

Error’s soul ached with hunger. He, very much so, wanted food, but he also didn’t want to move. He didn’t want the sensation to end so quickly. Error did not respond, but tightened his grip on Ink.

Ink: Error? You okay?

Error nodded, still not willing to respond with speech. Ink patted Error’s head.

Ink: You know, you can do this while we’re going to sleep. We sleep in the same bed, silly.

Error blushed, embarrassed. He didn’t think of that. He slowly let go and sat up straight. Ink could see his face clearly now. Error was still blushing, but he was pouting too.

Ink: Just so you know, you look adorable when you pout-

Error: SHUT UP!

Error was flustered.

The skeletons went to the kitchen and started making sandwiches. They were easy to make. Error started spreading mayonnaise on Ink’s sandwich. Ink left to go get something. Error didn’t like that. 

(M) Error: Ink just got home after a long trip and now he’s gone again...

He really missed Ink. Error didn’t ever want him to leave again, but here we are. 

Error sometimes thought, in the depressing, dark depths of his mind, that Ink wasn’t happy with him. That Ink didn’t love him anymore. That’s why he left. It hurt Error to think about it, so he pushed it back farther. 

He noticed he was shaking... and sweaty. He quickly put the half-made sandwich down and hurried to the bathroom.

Ink rummaged through his belongings looking for the present he got for his sweet Error. 

Ink: Mn.. where... is ... it?!

He couldn’t find it.

Ink was crestfallen. Where did he put it? Error was waiting on him, he had to find it! Ink continued to rummage through his stuff once more. 

Ink hit something in the very bottom of his bag; this was it. He found it! He pulled the gift up to the surface. A cloth. Just a cloth. 

Ink was excited to give this to Error. 

He rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. A half-made sandwich was on the table.

Ink: Error?

No response.

Ink walked back to the living room. He wasn’t there.

The bedroom. Not there either.

He came to the bathroom door. He tried turning the knob, it was locked.

Ink: Error? Are you in there?

Error froze. He quickly wiped the tears from his eye sockets. His voice was shaky. 

Error: Y-yes. I-I’m fine.

Ink could hear the sadness in his voice. He became serious.

Ink: Open the door Error.

Error didn’t want to open the door. His face was still wet from tears and he didn’t want to look at Ink right now. The disgusting thought hurt too much.

Ink: Open the door or I’ll come in myself.

Error knew disaster would happen if he didn’t open the door now. He dried his face as much as possible and opened the door slowly. The creaking of the door made him dread it even more. hey that rhymed 

Ink and Error stood face to face with one another. It was painful for both of them.

Ink didn’t like seeing Error sad.

Error was on the brink of crying again.

Ink’s face softened.

Ink: Error, what’s wrong?

He gently put his hands on Error’s arms. Error pushed them away. It felt as if Error shot string right through his soul, maybe even worse than that.

Ink: Wait... Are you mad at me? Please tell me what I did wrong! I’ll make it up to you! ...Error?

Hot tears were streaming down Error’s face. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

(W) Error: I-Ink..? Do...D-Do you still love me..?

Ink was dumbfounded at the question. He cupped his hands around Error’s face.

Ink: Why would you ask that? You know the answer!

Error tried to pull it together but, it was just too hard. He continued to hiccup and sniff.

Error: I-I... I feel like... like you l-left because of m-me...

It felt as if another string pierced through Ink’s soul. Why did Error feel this way..?

Ink pulled Error into a big hug. Error wrapped his arms around Ink’s neck. 

(W)Ink: Error... I would never leave because of you... I love you so much and don’t you ever think otherwise! Now... just... let it out, okay?

Error stood there for a moment taking in the wonderful scent again. He remembered the first time he met Ink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was rainy day. It was the very first day of middle school. Error was walking in wet shoes and wearing nothing but his hoodie and shorts. Error sighed.

(G)Error: What a great way to start off middle school...

(S)???: Hey!! Wait up!!

Error turned his head around to see a skeleton, with a colorful umbrella, splashing through the puddles towards him.

Error: Ugh...

Error walked faster, but the skeleton caught up with him anyways.

Error: What do you want, weirdo?

???: I was wondering if you want to share my umbrella? My name’s Ink by the way. What’s yours?

Error stared at Ink in annoyance.

Error: Noneya.

Ink: Noneya?

Error: None-ya-business.

Ink stared at Error for a moment. He busted out laughing. Error rolled his eye lights and continued to walk. Ink wiped a fake-tear away.

Ink: I like you, you’re funny. Wanna be friends, Noneya?

Error glared at Ink.

Error: Not even in another lifetime.

He continued walking. Ink walked with him.

(S)Error: Would you go away already?!

Ink looked shocked at Error. He then looked at his feet and let Error walk ahead.

(M)Error: Ugh, finally. That idiot is leaving me alo-

Error slipped on a puddle and fell face first onto the ground. After that, it mostly just darkness.

Error slowly opened his eyes. Pain pierced through his skull. 

Error: Ugh... ow...

Ink: Oh! You’re awake! Thank goodness.

Error froze.

(M)Error: That voice... oh no...

He looked to where the voice came from. Just as he thought; It was Ink. Error slouched down in the nurse bed.

Ink: How are you feeling?

Error didn’t respond.

Ink looked at him for a moment. 

Ink: I... was gonna wait to ask you this, but... do you remember me?

Error looked at Ink, confused.

Error: I’m pretty sure I would remember an idiot like you.

Ink sighed.

Ink: I guess you don’t, huh? Well... maybe this will jog your memory?

Ink pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it and it had a picture of two people holding hands in the center. One of them looked kinda like Error, and the other looked like...

Error: Squid..?

Ink gleamed with happiness.

Ink: You do remember! Haha! I missed you, Glitchy.

Error’s eyes grew wide. He hadn’t seen him in 7 years. They went to the same daycare when they were 4. Ink was his best friend.

Error sat up and hugged him. The vaguely familiar scent of his 4-year-old best friend came back to him. It warmed his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Error was crying again, but smiling too.

Ink: Let’s go sit down, okay, Ruru?

Ink gave a soft smile.

Error: Heh heh, okay, Kiky.

They walked to there bedroom, hand in hand, completely forgetting about dinner. Ink sat Error down on the bed.

Ink: I have something for you.

Ink cupped his hands around Error’s face and wiped his tears away with his thumbs. Error loved it when he did that.

Error: Okay...

Ink pulled out the cloth.

Ink: Here.

He handed it to Error.

Error: A cloth..? Are you serious?

Error looked at Ink and cocked an eyebrow.

Ink: Yes. Turn it over.

Error turned the cloth over and on the back it read; My love for you will always be by your side. Hold onto me forever, until we die together. -Kiky

Error read it over and over again.

Ink: This may sound a bit weird but, smell it.

Error glanced at Ink, then back at the cloth. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. It smelled just like Ink. Error quickly looked back at Ink.

Error: It smells like... 

Ink: Me. Now you’ll have a piece of me wherever you go... and you can give me my sweater back.

Error wrapped his arms around Ink again.

Error: I love it... Thank you, Kiky... I love you...

Ink embraced him back.

Ink: I love you too, Ruru...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~for now!~

For @lemonadebytrade:

Thank you so much for inspiring me to write this fanfiction! Since you do such a good job on all of yours, I decided to make a sequel to my favorite short story, Scent. I wanted to add a little bit of that Error sadness because I feel like Error would feel that way. I also decided to add a flashback because you added a flashback- double flashback?? whatttttt?? Also, their first meeting in the daycare was sorta based off of Momma CQ because Ink and Error first met at a daycare there too. I really hope you like it. I didn’t want to put too much romance-romance because there are real problems in a real marriage in real life. You portrayed that well in the original too. While I was writing this, 90% of the time I was saying “Poor Lil’ Error-”  ;-; Errorink might be the death of me OTL ciao~

[fantasydaydreamers]

The Real Thing: EXTRA PT.3! "Female Edition"

These specific characters were chosen because a while ago I had asked for people to send me names and the first 5 I would do. I ended up choosing a 6th.

This is loonnggg overdue and I have a few asks in my inbox asking about the female sex toys... I hope this answers y'alls questions~

Warning: Lemon Headcanons

Everything Hero: Creati

What it looks like: It's a deep red fleshlight with black bands wrapped around the handle. The entrance has the same pink and blue sparkle look that Momo has when she creates objects from her skin.

How big: It's about 3 inches wide by 7 inches long.

How it feels: The material inside the toy creates a tingling sensation around your cock, pulling you deeper inside. As you speed up, the tingling increases almost knowing when your sent over the edge, pulsing around your cock realistically.

Advertised as: "She'll create your pleasure into ecstasy!"

What she thinks: Coming from a rich and somewhat conserved household, she's embarrassed. She knew that her hero costume make her stand out some, but this was another level.

→ Momo: *blushing* "Jeez..."

→ Mina: "Ooh~ that's creative."

→ Hagakure: *giggles* "Mina, stop. She's turning red."

→ Mina: *gasps* "Just like her toy!"

→ Momo: "You guys-!"

Miruko

What it looks like: It may not look like much at first, but her fleshlight grips tight. It's a purple and cream swirl with hints of orange. At the very end of the sleeve is a fluffy bunny tail. Like I said, it looks 'cute,' but once you use it, her vice grip will have you panting in no time.

How big: It's about 3.5 inches wide by 8.5 inches long.

How it feels: The inner passage is filled with a criss-cross patterns which only enhances the grip feeling. In fact, it almost gives off the feeling that you're receiving oral. That's how strong the suction.

Advertised as: "You're gonna jackrabbit this toy till you explode!"

What she thinks: She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Really?

→ Rumi: "Is this what you wanted, pervert?" *stalks toward you*

→ You: *gulps* "I-uh-"

→ Rumi: *grabs you by the front of your shirt* "C'mere then. Let's see what you're capable of..."

Midnight

What it looks like: It's a dark purple, almost black, fleshlight. Some people assumed she would have a whip and BDSM themed toys, however, the manufacturers wanted to capture the magnetic pull she had on people with her quirk. Hence why the toy's inside is soft and smooth making it addicting every time you thrust into it.

How big: It's about 3 inches wide by 7.5 inches long.

How it feels: It has a silky texture making it feel heavenly. It also has an added suction feature that pulls you into her silky walls. There are a few ridges inside, but not enough to make it feel not silky. It encloses around you nicely, securing you tightly within her.

Advertised as: "Her pussy will put you to sleep, you'll be calling her NyQuil!" (Inspired by Nicki Minaj - Anaconda)

What she thinks: As if she couldn't be any more popular, the men charged the store to get their hands on her toy. As flattered as she was, she knows she has sex appeal and wasn't surprised.

→ Nemuri: *swinging her whip around* "Well, well, well. Look at all these men wanting to try it out~ how lewd."

→ Yu: *scoffs and mumbles* "Yeah...look at all of them..."

→ Nemuri: "Hm? What was that?"

→ Yu: *waves her hands in front of her defensively* "Oh ho! Nothing!"

Mt. Lady

What it looks like: She had a cock ring toy. It's definitely a long-lasting one that's durable for more than one use. It's a purple and orange swirled design on the jelly ring. The ring also has a mounted vibrator end that is rechargable to aid in clitoral stimulation.

How big: It's about 4 inches in width but since it's jelly, it's kind of stretchy.

How it feels: I mean, her quirk is the ability to become larger, right? The cock ring edges you so it essentially holds you back, building up your release. It's a snug fitting ring that increases your girth and helps delay ejaculation. So the pleasure that washs over you once you take it off makes it all worth it. Also with the vibrator, it helps give pleasure to your partner and yourself.

Advertised as: "It'll make you grow as large as her!"

What she thinks: She had a one-sided competition with Midnight on whose toy could sell out the fastest. They have different toys but that didn't matter. She loved flirting and the male attention too.

→ Yu: *somewhat copying Midnight* "Look at all these perverts buying my toy~ Hey you!"

→ You: "Uh-oh! M-mt. L-lady..." *hides the toy behind your back*

→ Yu: "Uh uh. I don't think so. Hey...let's go try it out in the back."

→ You: "Eh?!"

→ Yu: *thinking out loud* "Maybe we should take hers too...you can try both and see which one you like better..." *looks at you* "How does that sound?"

Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl

What it looks like: Obviously it's a clear fleshlight. From the inside, you can tell it has detailed ridges for enhanced pleasure.

How big: It has an 8 inch depth and 8.5 width. However, don't worry if you're less than those measurements! It still feels secure around you and the protruding ridges make up for the remaining space.

How it feels: It has ridges inside that rub against your cock nicely, plus since you can basically see through the toy, having the visual may add to the pleasure.

Advertised as: "She'll make your hard-on disappear!"

What she thinks: By her gloves waving in the air, you knew she was flailing around in embarrassment.

→ Hagakure: "Aaah!!! And it's clear!!!"

→ Mina: *snickers* "At least they see it. If it was real, it just disappears, right?"

→ Hagakure: "I-Mina!!! Hush!!!"

Alien Queen

What it looks like: She actually has a lube product. It's an almost clear pink gel lube that comes in a squeeze bottle. It has a light sugary smell of frosted strawberry cupcakes.

How big: The bottle is 3 oz. The size isn't that big, but you don't have to use a lot for it to work. It lasts a while or depending on how often you are active.

How it feels: Yes, her quirk is acid, however, the lube is anything but that. It provides a warming stimulant that enhances your pleasure and it makes you really sensitive. The product is not gender specified and welcomes anyone to try it! Also, you can choose to use it by yourself or with a partner. Either way, you are sure to be satisfied.

Advertised as: "You'll feel out of this world!"

What she thinks: She thinks it cute! Plus it smells like frosted strawberry cupcakes?! Yummy!

→ Mina: "Ooh! Is it edible too?!" *puts some on her finger and licks it*

→ Momo: *grabs the bottle out of concern* "Well, the packaging says so but I wouldn't-"

→ Mina: "YUMMY!"

OTHERS:

Original Pt. 1 (With all the others)

The Villains Pt. 2

[chillahead-bridge]

grave mistakes

inspired by @arrival-layne‘s good good angst art for jim, a mini-au about a what-if scenario about the grave sand having some... side effects on humans. (AO3 version)

TWs: body-horror, mouth horror, blood, description of injuries and violence. enjoy and stay safe!

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

Grave sand burns.

It’s bare seconds, passing in a painful flash- but Jim feels the grit scrape against his sinuses, leaving his airways raw as he hacks, lungs struggling to supply him air. And then it’s over, just like that, and a surge of energy washes over him. Like stepping into the cold depths of a pool, diving deep downwards.

“How do you feel?” Strickler asks him, watching him with sharp eyes.

“Angrier,” Jim replies, voice rough. He feels himself smile. The energy- the emotion- it’s pulsing through his veins. It’s incredible. It’s intoxicating.

“Good,” Strickler says, bursting into brilliant green arcs of light as his body twists and changes, horns curving over his skull as he raises his head. “Use that anger,” he encourages with a grin of deadly fangs.

Jim can feel himself shivering, deep inside, at the blatant challenge. An invitation to fight. The Amulet responds to his silent call- wrapping him in its armor and power, forming Daylight in his grip. Another flash of light and Jim glances over his shoulder, seeing Nomura stalk predatorily towards him with her blades.

Two highly skilled opponents. Both of whom have fought him to a standstill before. Jim feels no fear. He snarls right back at the changelings, reveling in the way he feels. He’s stronger, he’s faster, his heart races and his throat aches, and he meets his mentors’ attacks with zero hesitation.

It’s a blur, for a few euphoric moments, where there’s nothing but Jim, his weapon, and the changelings he’s beating back. Jim growls, shouts wordlessly- he kicks the larger, heavier changelings across the floor more than once, keeping up and surpassing them as they clash. Strickler has no close-range weapon, he falls back all too quickly. Nomura is brutal and unyielding, but she doesn’t expect the strength Jim has now. Her swords clatter against stone, her skull impacts against the wall he shoves her into, her claws shriek over the metal of his shield and Jim presses harder-

The interruption that comes will be something he’s grateful for, later. In the moment, however, Jim steps back from Nomura and turns to his first and dearest mentor, and all he sees is someone interfering with his victory.

Jim points his blade at Blinky. He takes swings at him, though they’re not truly meant to harm. Just intimidate. His words come between coughs, the energy in his body beginning to hum fiercely, urging him to fight more, to give it outlet-

“Master Jim, look at me,” Blinky says, holding him carefully but firmly. Jim tries to pull away, but the troll keeps talking, keeps him close and still. The words that come are warm, soothing, “-for your human heart,” and it pulls him back up from the depths.

Jim steps back, coughing harder as the corrosive enhancer in his body shifts. The Amulet’s power recedes, the armor vanishing; releasing him from the bloodthirst. He’s sickened, as his head clears, by the fact that he’d fallen so deeply into that desire.

“I’m- sorry,” Jim rasps, coughing still, “I- I lost myself.” He tries to say thank you, but the coughing won’t stop and he bends, pounding a fist against his chest.

Blinky turns on Strickler, launching into an angry conversation with him. Their clash of mentalities grows distant as Jim keeps coughing. His ears are starting to ring. His throat aches.

“Jim?” Nomura’s voice asks, a hand touching his back. Jim tries to respond but can’t get a single word out. He’s beginning to hyperventilate, but he can’t stop, coughing as the grave sand does something- else. Before it’d been flowing through him, circulating the unnatural aggression and energy. Now it’s- it feels like it’s seeping into something deeper, like it’s forcing itself into the rest of his body-

A lightning strike of agony abruptly explodes in his chest. Jim can’t even cry out, robbed of air.

“Jim!” shouts Blinky, but Jim can’t raise his head and look to him. The pain radiating from his ribcage is climbing, spreading outwards.

His fingers, his jaw, his eyes- Jim only hears the thundering of his own heart as he clutches at his mouth, deaf to whatever is happening around him. Oh god, the pressure is building, pushing to escape, make it stop, he’ll do anything, just make it STOP-

Something gives, a sweet relief of pressure for a split second, and then iron liquid fills his mouth and a new kind of throbbing pain takes the other’s place. Jim doubles over completely and heaves, red and spit splattering the stone. Jim coughs and shudders, tears blurring his vision as he gasps raggedly.

Little white pearls fall into the slurry, one by one.

Those are teeth, Jim thinks outside the pain, just as his eyes roll back and he passes out.

 -/-

 “For what it’s worth, young Atlas… we were unaware these particular side effects could occur.”

Jim doesn’t look at Strickler or Nomura. He keeps his eyes fixed on a corner of the room, focused on the rough-hewn walls of it.

“We’re already looking into a way to reverse it,” Nomura adds in a subdued tone. Jim still doesn’t answer, or acknowledge their presence.

“I swear it,” Strickler says, low and sad, “we will fix this for you, and I am deeply, deeply sorry for allowing this- to happen, to you.”

Jim curls his fists into the blanket covering his legs.

“Leave,” he manages to say, throat hoarse. “W- we’ll talk. Later. But for now…”

“Of course,” Strickler says softly, and that’s the end of it. The two changelings walk out, drawing the curtain closed; leaving Jim to sit in Blinky and Arrrgh’s bedroom, wrapped in an overlarge blanket and shadows to hide within.

Gingerly, with a hesitant hand, Jim reaches to poke at his aching jawline. The claw that’d burst from under his nail throbs in time with the teeth he presses against.

Jim hasn’t looked in a mirror, but he knows. He’s already searched his face and body- he knows about the teeth, the claws, the point to his ears, the way his vision is perfectly suited to the dark room he’s in… He knows what it all means, what it all looks like.

He drops his hands to the blanket and twists them into fists again, hunching over his knees and shaking. Tears drop onto the fabric not for the first time today, an echo of his teeth falling out of his mouth.

The parallel forces him to unlock his clenched jaw and let out a wounded cry. His voice wavers and cracks, the internal damage done by the grave sand persisting still. Jim doesn’t spare a thought of concern that he might worsen the injuries; the noise pours out of him and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to.

The curtain is suddenly yanked open and he hisses, flinching and covering his sensitive eyes. “Oh- shit, shit, I’m sorry Jimbo,” says a more than familiar voice, and the curtain is hastily closed again. Jim doesn’t even have time to blink the spots out of his vision before two sets of arms are thrown around him.

“Blinky told us what happened,” Claire rushes out, fingers already shifting to touch the ruined parts of him, searching, caressing- “Oh, Jim, how could they? Why- god- I’ll, I’ll strangle them both-”

“Should’ve never left you alone with them,” Toby says to the crook of Jim’s shoulder, squeezing his middle so tightly it hurts, but in a good way. “I should’ve- we should’ve been there, maybe then we’d’ve been able to steer you off this fucking- this horrible idea, what were you thinking?”

“I- I just-” Jim stutters, trying to answer both of them. His hands hover, not quite touching them, keeping the claws away from their human skin. “I need to get stronger,” he says, the mantra he’s been repeating for what feels like ages now. “They were just helping me, I asked them to, and- I’m the one who, who let Strickler- it’s my own fault.”

“Bullshit,” Claire curses, eyes blazing. “They did this, they hurt you and I’m going to- to-”

“Drop them into the shadow dimension forever?” Toby suggests in a dark tone.

“Yes,” Claire hisses vindictively.

“Guys, no, we need them, they were just doing what I- what I asked them-” Jim breaks off as he loses his voice, biting his lip and slicing into the thin skin immediately. Right, he has fangs, small but sharp fangs that jut up over his lip in an overtly inhuman way, something nothing short of removing them can fix, and oh god how will he hide this from his mom? How is he supposed to hide his ears? His eyes?

“What am I gonna tell my mom?” Jim whispers harshly, and starts crying in earnest.

Claire makes a wordless noise of anger and sadness, carding her fingers through his hair and letting a few of her own tears slip free. A tissue is pressed gently to his bleeding lip, held in place by Toby as he looks at Jim, brushing away his tears while ignoring the ones on his own face.

Jim wants to curl up and hide himself, cover up the pieces of himself he tainted, cheating for power. But he’s held between his two closest confidants and he can’t bring himself to pull away, instead slumping into the hold, burrowing into their comfort and care and clinging to that safety.

 -/-

 Sometime later: Claire holds his hand without fear of the claws that’ve grown there; Toby pokes the tips of his ears and jokes about Lord of the Rings. They beam at him pointedly until Jim will nervously smile back, not letting him sink further into his mire of self-loathing.

The adults shuffle back and forth behind the curtained entrance, unsubtly checking on the three of them. Sooner than later, they’ll be pulled out of the safely shadowed nest they’re huddling in. But not yet, as stated firmly by Claire when Blinky comes to ask after them.

Jim huffs, embarrassed by the fuss everyone is making over him, pressing his face into the softness of Toby’s sweater vest to hide his flush. Claire’s lithe arms wind around his waist and hold him like wrought iron, refusing to let him slip away even a little. Toby’s arms are warmer, stronger, wrapping around both of them best he can and helping their trio lower themselves gently onto the wide pillows that make up the bed.

Jim’s future has become even more uncertain, another trial added to his seemingly endless path to their ultimate goal. But for a moment between the three of them, tangled up and shielding themselves from that uncertain future, he can breathe easy.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Twenty-Six: Moody Person ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina, death ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

To call Uchiha Sasuke a moody person is both a massive understatement...and a huge misstatement.

Because yes, ‘moody’ is a word that does, indeed, fit him from a distance. Short-tempered, impatient, depressed and antisocial more often than not.

But to write him off as simply ‘moody’ is a gross lack of depth. After all, one can hardly go through what Uchiha Sasuke has gone through and not come out worse for wear. ‘Moody’, therefore, seems far too light a word for what he feels. To lose not only your family, but your entire extended bloodline in a single night - being exposed to the brutal murder of your parents via genjutsu - watching your brother, the culprit, escape almost unfettered save for your own trembling, desperate attempts to stop him?

Why yes, one would become quite ‘moody’ after experiencing so much at the tender age of seven.

And yet, many people wrote him off as much. Including, but not limited to, those who would later become his teammates. Naruto, another sufferer of great loss, thought it best to approach Sasuke through antagonizing him. Sakura, one with no understanding of loss, though it wise to pursue him with shallow inclinations of romance.

Neither of which, of course, was anywhere near a proper approach.

Even his sensei went about it in rather...questionable ways. But Kakashi, like Sasuke, had suffered much...and was given the typical Konoha treatment.

In other words...none. Sympathy does not a proper shinobi make, in the eyes of the village. Everyone loses something in a world of war and subterfuge. Why make any attempts to console those who suffer loss when there’s hardly anyone who hasn’t?

But it was the mishandling of him that made such a pointed difference. Sasuke had one goal. To kill his brother, the murderer of their clan, and avenge the deaths of those he’d cared about. Simple enough, and yet...glaringly looked over. Never was there talk of helping him. Of agreement: that the Uchiha deserved justice. No...the only time anyone seemed to give a second thought to Sasuke’s goal was when it interfered - however indirectly - with their own.

Sasuke’s decision to abandon Konoha - a village that had offered him no comfort, no help - was met with cries of betrayal. How dare he leave a place where his wants and needs were ignored? Naruto wouldn’t stand for it - his friend was allowed no independent thought…! He had to do what Naruto wanted. Sakura, too, couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving. He was their friend. And while it could be argued the roots of friendship were there - Sasuke saved Naruto on their mission to Nami, and defended Sakura against Gaara - he had larger goals. To be tied to others was to risk losing them, and risk losing sight of his singular purpose. Nothing could stop his need to bring peace to the restless, murdered spirits of his clan. Not friendship, not village loyalty...nothing.

But his leaving wasn’t seen that way. It wasn’t seen as an act of necessity, but rather of selfishness.

And yet he was far from the one being selfish.

If his team - his village - wouldn’t offer him the help he needed...he’d find it elsewhere. The risks didn’t matter...only the end result. Orochimaru had power: that much was obvious. He didn’t care if it marked him a traitor to Konoha. His utmost loyalty wasn’t to a village, but to a clan.

A clan then dead.

Of course...there was much Sasuke didn’t know. Was never intended to know. But when he did...he simply changed course. Itachi wasn’t guilty - not truly. One doesn’t blame the knife for digging into your back, but the hand behind it.

Konoha had sanctioned the clan’s demise...so it was Konoha that would repay him that blood debt. Generations of abuse and neglect - met rightfully with disdain and a want for freedom - had been met with thrown-away negotiations and a death warrant. And not just for those who planned the coup, oh no...the entire bloodline - down to the penultimate child - would be the price for the Uchiha daring to rise against a village that had treated them as second class since the village’s founding, all thanks to one man. A man that had, yes, led them...and that they had turned their backs on in favor of a village that would never trust them again.

Obito’s telling of the truth; the prior Hokage’s stories; the war; his brother’s own words...it all served to both settle him, and yet confuse him. Enough so that he fought his best friend nearly to their deaths...and then just...gave up.

...at least, in part.

Uchiha Sasuke may have let up his desire to clear the Kage, and to contain the bijū. But there was one thing he refused to let die: the village-sanctioned murder of his bloodline.

Some thought him too forward, too angry, too bent on revenge. One might dare to call him ‘moody’. But to Sasuke, there was no taking that truth lying down. He’d either tear the truth from Konoha’s chest and hold it aloft in the sun from its birth in the shadows...or he’d die trying.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to death. It came to an arrangement. The clans’ heirs and children in his class - made aware of the truth - banded their lines together to face the council. Expose the truth. Make sure their clans would never be next...and that Sasuke’s successors - should he ever have any - be free of the hidden shadows of their pasts.

But even upon returning to Konoha like so many people wanted...he couldn’t get any peace. The walking on eggshells. The panicked looks when he’d walk up. The clear nervousness his classmates felt in his presence despite making feeble attempts to act like they didn’t think he was one wrong word away from exploding.

It was...exhausting. And only made him all the less inclined to socialize.

But there was one person from the eleven that not only failed to patronize him...but genuinely made efforts to connect.

And that was Hyūga Hinata.

At first he was at a bit of a loss as to why. He’d never spoken to her, or...if he had, it was brief enough he had no memory of it. The only real connection they had was, to his knowledge, his (rather tattered) friendship with Naruto, and her infatuation with the blond.

But, slowly...he learned more.

She was no longer hung up on his teammate. Or, rather...she was doing her best to move on. And their clean slate meant that, compared to many others their age, he had no reason to resent her...and vice versa. Add in a mutual friend, their odd third-and-fourth wheel roles to the rest of team seven, and the startling parallels in their pasts...and Sasuke found himself...intrigued.

...it had been some time since someone genuinely caught his interest. Let alone it being someone who seemed, in turn, curious about him...and not in any way that wanted something from him. To Hinata, he was a friend of friends. A fellow classmate. A comrade. And his actions, though often dire, were done in the name of justice...mostly. To her...he wasn’t beyond redemption, but rather worthy of it. And she’d taken it upon herself to help him start.

...it was odd. But no less appreciated, even if he was...confused by it at first.

And slowly - ever so slowly - he started to lose his edge. Though still short-tempered, it was cooled by her urgings to be patient. Though still blunt, he found ways to be so without being crass about it. His mood slowly began to lighten, though he could - and would - never completely shed his changes. The past that molded him could never be forgotten...but it could be tempered by a gentler future.

“...what’s gotten into him…?”

Blinking, Hinata turns to her companion. Sakura, standing beside her, is watching her two teammates interact several paces before them. Naruto, ever-pestering, is giving the Uchiha a hard time about...something. Hinata missed what, precisely. But rather than snap or skulk, Sasuke manages a hint of a smirk, hands in his pockets and air aloof rather than dark. He actually looks to be bantering with the blond.

“...what?”

“Sasuke-kun, he’s...he’s smiling, and...joking. I haven’t seen him do that in…” Sakura fades to silence, slowly shaking her heard. “It’s just...odd.”

“...I think he’s been feeling b-better recently.”

That earns a glance. “...how would you know?”

“W-well, we’ve...we’ve been talking, that’s all.”

“...you talk to Sasuke-kun?”

“...is that weird?”

“I…” Sakura’s brow furrows. “...I guess not. But...he hardly speaks to us, and we’re his teammates…”

Hinata hesitates. This is something Sasuke confided in her, given her easy-listener attitude. “I...I think he just, um...he just felt...uncomfortable around you two for a-a while, right? I mean...a lot happened between you after he...he left. He was rather upset that you learned about the massacre, and just…” She gestures rather sheepishly. “...you just...ignored it…? You knew what the village had done, and yet...you wanted him to come back. You never said you’d address it, or...h-help him get justice. You just...kept trying to drag him back. Back to a place he’d learned his family was m-murdered, and...ordered so by those who led the village. If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t...wouldn’t that upset you…?”

A look of scandal overtakes the Haruno’s face. “How do you...know all that?”

Glancing aside, Hinata hesitates for a long moment. “...l-like I said, we’ve...been talking. Or rather...he talks, and I...I listen.”

For a moment, a look of hurt tinged with jealousy passes over Sakura’s face. “...I see. It’s true, we...we’ve got a lot to address, but…” She gestures after Sasuke. “...he wouldn’t talk to us.”

“...he needed time. To think, and...about a lot of things, Sakura-chan.”

“...guess you’re right.”

“Just...be patient with him. He’s been carrying a l-lot of pain for a long time. And…” Hinata shrinks a bit. “...it was a bit...c-compounded by...things that happened after he, um...left.”

Sakura glances aside, expression cool. “...yeah.”

“...a-anyway...maybe that’s a good sign…? Maybe he’ll, um...he’ll start opening up a bit more, now! If his mood is better, then…”

“Well, I don’t know what point there is now.”

Hinata stumbles. “I...w-what?”

The rosette avoid her eyes. “Seems he’s already doing that...and with someone who never even spoke to him before he left. What use is there in talking to us, if he’s got you?”

“S...Sakura-chan!”

Ignoring her, Sakura struts forward, pushing between her two teammates and disappearing.

“...Sakura-chan?” Naruto calls, hesitating a moment before going after her. “Hey, w-wait!”

Stepping up nervously beside Sasuke, Hinata curls a hand at her chest.

“...what did you do?”

“...I…” Her expression wilts. “...I was just telling her about...about talking to you, and she...I think she took it the wrong way. I wasn’t trying to…?”

Sasuke gives a small sigh. “...she’s still taking this all too personally. She knows she messed up, but she’s still clinging to what she wanted, even if she knows she won’t get it. She thinks she can both fear me and love me. Which, of course...is ridiculous.” He scoffs. “...now who’s the moody one…?”

Hinata’s gaze falls. “...I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You...you were doing well with Naruto-kun, and I...I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Sakura’s the one making a fuss out of something she doesn’t need to worry about. My being friends with you isn’t a bad thing. She’s just stuck between moving on and clinging to her jealousy over me. That’s not your fault. That’s her own issue to work out, Hyūga. Don’t mistake her blunders for yours.”

She considers that silently.

“...anyway...if you want to head home with them gone, I understand. I had a feeling this wouldn’t last long.”

“Oh, but…?”

“It’s fine.” He gives her a glance. “...a little progress is still progress.”

“...I guess you’re right. Um...I’ll s-see you later, Sasuke-kun. Have - have a good afternoon.”

“...you too.”

                                                                .oOo.

     This...isn't exactly what I wanted this to be, buuut...I tried? I was majorly sick yesterday, and today was a long day, so I'm not at the top of my game, aha~      Basically just more Sasuke introspective because...I love to write it lol - and a bit of a scene at the end. I don't think I've really touched on Sakura's lingering jealousy in ALAS at all yet. I've done Hinata's with Naruto, but admittedly I just...don't like Sakura much, so I don't write her if I can help it. Not that I HATE her, but...her character is just SO mishandled in canon imo. Hence her needing (and getting) a lot of work in ALAS' third arc. She has a lot to learn, and it's not easy...but she gets there.      ...eventually xD      Anyway, I'm bushed, so I'll call it there. Thanks for reading!

[renaer-is-allegedly-hot]

session 9 notes

Tea time as in the oneshot period session u do

Adam is rolling at disadvantage medicine check

Sylvia is playing as Sarah (16)

Marguerite is Snapette (14)

Has not had it before

Lillian is Samantha (15?? 14???)

Has had it before

Can provide inspiration

Sarah picks room c painted purple and dripping stuff from the ceiling

Takes snapette and samantha with her, do it

Adam casts message

"are you guys ok?"

Snapette is a little freaked out bc hasn't had it yet

"I don't knowww"

Samantha says don't worry it's just a routine procedure "she'll be ok don't worry about it"

6

Adam casts shatter at the wall

3d4 damage from middle school girls roll to hit above an 6

Adam has to roll wisdom saving throw at 15

At disadvantage (on next attack)

ROLL INITIATIVE

Adam: 12

Sarah: 5

Snapette: 19

Samantha: 19

Samantha

Snapette

Adam

Sarah

Samantha's turn

2 for persuasion

Snapette

5

Adam casts sleep

Snapette is asleep

Sarah

4 for persuasion

Samantha

6 for persuasion

Adam

Hideous laughters samantha but on the ground laughing

Sarah

        Ok next one as in real one ig

     "lillian has a gaming setup confirmed"

"lillian is a hardcore gamer"

Ok actually

 Last session we were following a lead, we took a rest but now we wanna go to the cemetery

We're gonna go get that rock

"Does the rat have a bed ??"

It's a cemetery but also a park

It's still foggy

We're gonna walk until we come across a taxi ig

Aerana is leading in front, adam towards middle, cel towards back

Asyna and theo don't care

Not fog it's rain

Don't see too many ppl out but as we leave the dock ward we see ppl trying to find cover

Pass through the dock ward unhindered

Eventually we flag down a carriage

V old tiefling man w an eyepatch and a beard coming down in two forks but w one shorter than the other

3c each

"take these coppers . Old version of me"

"eh . What r u doing up this time of night"

"oh we're just gonna go pay our respects to the graveyard"

"we have many graveyards which one r u going to"

"just u know the general - the city of the dead"

"ah headed back there again, eh?"

"again?"

"what do you mean by again?"

"my eye must've been deceiving me I could've sworn I spoke to u the other day"

Adam is not allowed to roll perception???????

"oh no no sir I haven't met u before in my life"

His depth perception is gone

He was doing typical rounds and ran into young man who needed ferry into city of the dead

"there's a lot of tieflings in the city . We all look the same"

No one else is on the carriage

It's late afternoon-ish here

Just dark bc cloud cover it's v rainy

Fast travel ?

He tries some conversation but normal guy

Arrive at a thing with a cage castle thing that's locked up

Metal grate thing in front of the door??? PORTCULLIS

It's so rainy

Looking beyond it there's a lot of carefully manicured lawns

It's locked

A wench looks pulled

If adam were stronger he could push it open

Cel rolls perception for guards

10

Can see light or smth passing through ?? Smth in the place

Kinda bobs a little that "might suggest a lantern"

We can't see it

Adam casts mage hand to try and open the wedge from the other side

There's an actual lock

Lillian rolls a 6

Everyone is confused I am also confused

Everyone is low rolling; cel rolls 8

"how climbable does the wall look"

23 aerana unlocks the door

You're trying to figure it out in the rain

Adam is mage handing the inside part

20

Could not put the lock back on but close the gate

Adam is putting it in george the bush

"I'll be so happy to take this lock off your hands"

It's an awakened bush

"we'll come back to you george bush"

Passing through, it's p creepy

We follow her instructions

Small lake w a small bridge

Asyna has 14 passive perception

This is a p sizable area

she hears out of sync footsteps

Someone stepping when we aren't

Someone walking with us behind us

Asyna rolls perception check disadvantage

a 2

Asyna pretends she looks back to talk to someone behind her

Looks over shoulder, still walking w everyone

Doesn't see anything

The rain and the dark r making it hard for us

Adam is leading

"hey adam . There's someone maybe following us"

Adam's already terrified and now he's peeing

He has actually peed

Was already kinda freaked out by the bus driver

Adam stops leading

Turns to asyna "y ou wot"

"what ? Keep walking let's keep walking"

"but you said"

"nononono"

Asyna perception at disadvantage

11

Adam stops

We've all stopped

As adam is talking to asyna asyna hears the footsteps where we've stopped walking and then they stopped

Cel roll 6

Aerana rolls 20

U whip ur head back to see

U hear ??? "what languages do you guys speak"

U hear what sounds like someone cursing u can't tell what it is

U tell the group

Asyna just says "hey"

Oh we can hold an attack

Let's hold an attack

Adam is holding his urine

"adam's a heavy drinker . You guys don't know that about him" - jacob, 2020

The hey is not answered

Hear a little more squelching

Sounds from the right, 7 perception check

Hard to tell, maybe

Adam does not have detect magic

Bruh dom's gonna kill us right now

On our right we hear stomping in the mud

4 short hooded figures randomly appear

Some kind of weapons they're holding w longer grayish beards and the start rushing to us to attack

I literally rolled a nat1

17 for adam

7 for theo

6 for asyna

Nat1 for cel

Nat1 for aerana

Adam is first

They look like dwarves but they're hooded w v white beards

Four of them in melee w us

All will make charisma saving throw

They don't look like zents or guards

Look like kind of thugs

Fail, nat20, nat20, fail

Whenever the failed ones make an attack roll, -1d4

Uses cutting words on one of the passed one, on next roll needs to -1d6

Two of them rush over after adam does and suddenly it looks like they start to straighten up in posture but they just grow in size

For better or worse they've become larger like the dweargar

They're dweargar

One of each of the attacked ones ig

A third grows in size

Theo's turn

Tries to shoot small one

"kill the baby dwarf"

Rolls an 8 to hit, misses

Asyna's turn

"It would just be a soggy ape"

We're trying to figure out which animal asyna should turn into

She's gonna turn into a crocodile bc one time jones put a crocodile out

We're going to the zoo after this session

There are dippin dots at the zoo

There are not dippin dots at the zoo?

The ice elemental could make a version of dippin dots

Dom gets frozen lemonade at zoos

There are not dippin dots at the zoo but in the summer they have the equivalent of shaved ice

Now asyna's gonna attack

18 to hit

7 damage

Bite attack ? Grappled ? Dc12 saving throw ? No dc12 to escape

He's stuck in the jaws

Who's stuck in the jaws ? The big one one of the big ones the bained one

Oh wait how big is the crocodile

Large

It works

Small one becomes large now all four are large

Cel's turn

Takes the one that just turned big

Casts hunters mark and then hits with sword

1d6 of damage, 2 from hunters mark added

15 to hit with bow, 14 damage

Aerana's turn

11 damage

Big one that adam didn't hit

U poke a lil hole

He's wearing chain armor and u shear through it a little

Adam

Casts vicious mockery on the one you just hit

He will take 3 damage "the only reason you got big physically is because you're compensating"

And disadvantage on next physical attack

He's next

Ah he's gonna attack u

He misses

Other one goes

The big bained one

Marguerite took the small bained one

Nat1 lmao

Tries to swing at adam and doesn't hit

Grappled man gonna try to escape, is large so does he escape ? Yes he escapes

Theo's turn

Theo will hit the one that just tried to escape w bow

14 to hit, does it

Deals 5 damage

The one u n adam hit is a little worse for wear along w the last one to turn big boi

Theo can add sneak attack bc asyna is within melee range

Adds 8 damage for total 13 damage

Now he's also not looking great

Theo abandons bow to sneak attack w sword

Asyna's turn

18 to hit

6 damage

Same guy theo got

"how do you want to do this?"

Chomps him in half

He tastes salty

Ok so in total like 26 damage to take out ?

Upon seeing the crocodile the other one is gonna fight asyna

Despite -1d6 to hit, has advantage bc larger size and never mind ?

12 armor class, he hits

6 damage

He smashes snout in "it hurts . But ur fine"

Cel's turn

It is the one with hunters mark

Uses bow

23 to hit, 11 damage

Looks like he's on his last legs

Aerana deals 14 damage

"how do you want to do this"

Cut off the legs then he slides off his own legs and collapses

Bleeding out as he kicks the bucket

Adam

"how do you want to do this"

1 health lmao

"what I roll will tell me the level of roast that kills him"

"your mother was a badger mole and your father was a worm"

He hyperventilates, asphyxiates, then dies

Bruh next time u should pull a criminal minds death smh

He rolls a 3 and doesn't hit anyone

Theo's turn

Makes an athletics check to climb onto him?

I want a burrito

I'm gonna make a burrito after we play so I can start s14

Gonna try to intimidate

" we just killed all of your friends but we'd be willing to keep you alive if you answered some questions for us "

"that is the most polite intimidation I've ever heard" dom, 2020

Rolls with advantage

8 lmao

He looks scared but it didn't work

"is theo like a mormon or something???" jacob, 2020

"dnd but it's mormons"

Asyna's turn

Rolls a 2, snaps and it doesn't work

Cel's turn

Pulls out sword to intimidate

"last chance fucker or we kill you"

17

Bc we're in melee he drops his weapon which did not grow in size with him

Adam is gonna change his shorts

It looks like he's wearing a skort

You take his war hammer

Time to interrogate

Cel is pulling him down???? He's medium size and cel is filled with rage

Eye contact ???? Or ok athletics check

14 athletics check it works gets him down to eye level

"who sent you?"

Doesn't answer

Asks in undercommon

"I was sent by noska"

"noska's with me at the guild"

It is the xanathar guild

"why?"

"we figured you five would have the stone"

Adam comes back

"we do have the stone in fact"

Deception check

19

Intimidation and deception are specific ways of persuading

19 deceives

"we already had it"

He looks at adam and says "that so? Well uh then you have it on you now?"

"uh no . Check the bottom of the ocean ."

His eyes widen

"so why don't you go tell your xants"

"you . You didn't ."

"oh . We did."

He's not used to communicating through an interpreter

Says smth along the lines of "you idiot there's half a million dragons in there"

Now he's just yelling at us

Cel whips out sword and offers to behead him against the

We could cut out his tongue and opposable thumbs

And then let him go as a sign to the xants

Carve a message into his chest

"who else are you hunting for"

"nobody right now . I guess ,, well, no .. No, not really - mostly just the rock"

"well it's gone . See rock see stone at the see shell at the see shore"

"here's the thing buddy boy we know you're looking for it and we don't like you"

"so you can skedaddle"

"when did adam get so cocky?"

"right after he learned vicious mockery"

Adam spanks him

He shrunk to a medium size

Or maybe adam didn't spank him

Tl;dr he's not gonna snitch and doesn't give us a name

"I still wanna know your name, fucker"

It's gorrick

Sylvia would've called him ocean

"if you know a crow person named bingbong-" "that's not his real name" "-if you know a kenku whose name is a gong sound, can you tell us where he is?" "well there's lots of different kenku but I don’t' know they all look kind of scruffy and they all wear cloaks so I can't tell" he doesn't know

"he reluctantly gives you his pants" dom, 2020

"but is he packing tho" marianne, 2020

"roll for perception at disadvantage" "16"

"from what you can tell… this guy can taste enlarge/reduce on himself, so yeah" dom says, begrudgingly, 2020

For the record . I was joking . But he made me roll

"is that dead one packing shmeat" "NO, HE IS N O T" jacob and dom, 2020

"you idiots are dead xants r gonna come and make your lives hell"

We see lantern lights just bobbing around in the darkness

Arrive at one of the wealthier areas w big pillared, raised pedestals w coffins n statues

Eventually make it to a small covered stone building not too much larger than a shed

One of the things has been pushed open

Smashed lock on the ground

Adam thaumaturgies and walks in

Adam makes the light blue

10 feet in there's a 10ft open chamber; off to left and right are two different stone coffins that have been covered up; don't depict any particular person but some writing on it

Further in two raised sections with set of stairs leading into darkness between them

Cel rolls investigation check to see if someone was there

Rolls 21, somewhat dusty inside and can see some footprints

2 pairs that look human-sized

Writing on coffins just have names of garloth family with age and short passage

The footprints look like they go both in and out

Honestly ? Proud of my question asking if the footprints are going in the same direction . Me one year ago would not have thought

Adam goes deeper into the darkness

Going down it's warmer, pathway abt 10 feet wide

More coffins; one to right one to left

Contents have been ransacked

Tops have been broken (wood)

Some bones have been removed

Cel rolls 21 to see if they were buried w anything

Passage extends 50 feet down

All coffins here have been ransacked

Two more coffins have also been ransacked

60 feet down adam can see a side passage

Bc of the light adam can see smth sparkling in the dust

Door set into the wall

Adam picks it up

Looks like a key

Adam tries it for the locked door

Adam runs 19 investigation but it doesn't appear to be trapped

Looks like this door has scratches like long gouges

Key adam found does not fit

Cel picks it

More ornate coffin inside, untouched

Cel rolls for investigation, 10

Unsure abt traps

More dusty in here, some dirt falling from ceiling

Adam looking for rat-sized entrances

Investigation check

11, can't see

Other coffin made to look like a person, last name garloth

Cel opens the coffin

Strength check w advantage

Nat20

Wedges crowbar under stone, it slides off and hits the ground, kicking up some dust

Inside is a dead person

Cel investigates for stone

13, it's just a dead man

Rings just look fancy

Based on our info

The stone is p sizable

Adam puts all the rings on at once and as he tugs the rings off the skeleton the head rolls and falls to look at adam

"I'm gonna cover the face and keep tugging - does it come off?"

"the finger comes off"

Naya's gonna scry w the key

"are you still a crocodile?"

"oh ok I guess I'll revert then"

Naya hops away

Will do investigation checks for rest of tomb

Adam is licking the floor, rolls 13

Adam gathers the door was not opened before we came in

Hard to tell w the footprints now that we've come in

Someone did come in tho before us

Cel is investigating and adam is giving inspiration

"are you doing bardic inspiration then?"

"yeah"

"do I get a song?"

"there once was a halfling named cel she was searching for bodies in a cell but there was one trap everyone did a laugh(?) and down the hole she fell"

"you've been inspired to avoid all danger"

Four were unopened Ig

11 it doesn't open ?

Nat20 for second coffin

Dead person inside

Investigates for stone, 8

Doesn't see anything

There's an entrance the door at the front of the mausoleum that a rat could fit through

No rat-sized holes in the coffins

Only lead is the key

Naya looks like she's leaving so we're gonna follow

Eventually led to another entrance/exit of the cemetery in a different direction

Still raining but not quite as heavily as before

Getting closer to midnight

Naya starts leading us towards trades ward

Pause point?

[axel-fics]

Can I request an axel/reader with your fav trope?? Your stories are very sweet and I'm curious what your fav trope is ;w;

Aww, thanks nonnie! :D Can I just say… that I felt really silly that I didn’t know what a trope was? And then after I did my research and realized I knew what a trope was, I felt even sillier. The 5th grade version of myself is kicking my ass right now. Anyways, I chose The Great Gatsby since it’s one of my favorite books of all time, and the allegories in it are so deep and meaningful. I hope I did the book justice with this! 

Rainy Days and Bookstores

To you, bookstores were a safe haven. If you ever felt down about life or even just a bit more adventurous, you always found yourself skimming through the shelves for new stories to get lost in. It was always a place where you felt free to be yourself, where no one could judge you for sitting in the small reading nook for hours on end reading to your heart’s content. At the end of each trip, you always ended up buying a few books to add to your ever-expanding collection at home; pretty soon you knew you had to stop investing in books and buy a second bookshelf. 

It was a cold and rainy fall afternoon when you decided to pop into your favorite bookstore in Twilight Town. For the first time in a week, you actually had a day off of work and decided to spend it doing all of your favorite things around town. You had wished the weather would be nicer, but a day is a day off, and you were happy to take it. Walking into the bookstore, the bell above the door rang a familiar tune as it dinged above your head, quickly ringing a second time as you shut the door behind you to prevent the cold air from getting in. The bookstore was small and cramped with multiple bookshelves that left narrow passageways throughout the store, but it led to a larger back area with a few couches and chairs, and of course your favorite reading nook. The nook was in the back corner of the store with a large stained glass window of the town’s clock tower that usually glowed on sunny days. Today, however, the colors were slightly muted thanks to the gloominess of the sky. 

The store’s owner gave you a nod as you smiled and gave a small wave before continuing on your merry way of searching for something new to read. You decided today to go down the fiction aisle, which was a change from the mystery novels you were currently divulging into. Running your fingers along the spines of the books, you came across one of your all-time favorite novels: The Great Gatsby. You remembered it being a required text in your junior year of high school and everyone dreaded reading something so outdated. But you? You couldn’t be more excited. Every day you’d volunteer to read aloud, getting lost in the story so quickly that you never noticed all the other kids barely paying attention. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; F. Scott Fitzgerald was in your top three favorite writers, and nothing would have distracted you from his famous stories. 

Although you were pretty sure you had a copy at home, you couldn’t help but pick up the book and take it with you to your usual spot on the nook along with a few other text you’ve picked up. Instantly diving into the story, you found yourself getting lost once again amongst the classic story of the doomed relationship of Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan and the observations that Nick Carraway described in his first-person narrative. 

‘But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone — he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward — and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for—’

“When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone in the unquiet darkness.”

A man stretched out on a couch not too far from you was looking in your direction, smirking as he finished the exact line you were just reading. How could he have possibly known??

“You were reading out loud. Actually, it was more like whispering pretty loudly,” he chuckled. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt you,” you bowed your head completely embarrassed. 

“Nah, you didn’t. I just sat down to get out of the storm, haven’t decided what to look at yet.” He pointed at the book you were now clenching in your hand. “Gatsby. Great book.” 

“You’ve read F. Scott Fitzgerald?”

“You sound surprised.”

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. And yes, I’ve read Fitzgerald. Almost all of his works. That one there is my favorite.”

“Mine too! The symbolism and depth of the entire story, how people’s lives are intertwined so easily and yet it’s never fully known to them. It just makes you think about how every thing in life has a result, a consequence.”

The man stood up from the couch and started walking over towards you. He was taller than he looked, probably because he was slouching on the couch, and had spiky red hair that went almost in every direction like a fireball. His eyes were a piercing green hue that looked simultaneously looked soft and sincere. He hovered above you for a second before you quickly moved your legs to clear some space for him to sit down. 

“The green light is one of my favorite allegories in literature. Being so close to something so dear to your heart but ever so far away. How he was hoping to bring his past and present together to form a suitable future with Daisy. I mean, everyone has a green light in their lives, right? It comes in different forms, but there’s always something that you’ll always desire and hope to have in your future.” You continued pouring your theories over to the man as he silently listened to you. He didn’t say much, but you could tell in his eyes that he actually was listening, and not just showing off to make it seem like he was slightly interested. 

Somewhere in between talking about the Valley of Ashes and Tom Buchanan’s mistress Myrtle Wilson, you caught yourself talking way too much and stopped. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 

“No, no, you’re fine. I like hearing your theories. It’s been a while since I read this, so it makes me wanna read it again.”

Blushing you closed the book and held it out to him. He raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. “I thought you were going to buy this?”

“I have a copy at home. I just couldn’t resist re-reading it today.”

The man gladly accepted the book and started carefully flipping through the pages before looking back up at you. “Maybe… after I finish reading this, we can compare notes?”

“Depends, are you asking me out?”

The man laughed. “Yes, I’m asking you out. Although I’m pretty sure I never got your name.”

“And I’m pretty sure I never got yours,” you smirked. 

“Fair enough. Name’s Axel, got it memorized?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Axel. I’m [Y/N].”

“[Y/N], huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You instantly felt your cheeks burn as he gave you a wink. “Think I can get that number of yours?”

“Oh, right.” You took a pen and a piece of paper from your notebook that you stashed in your small backpack and wrote your name and number down before handing it to Axel. 

“Alright then, take a guess at how long it’ll take me to finish.” Axel stood up from his spot on the nook and started walking backwards to the cash register. 

“I’d say… three days.”

“You’d bet on it?” 

“Sure. If I win, uhm… you’ll have to buy me some sea-salt ice cream.”

“‘Kay, and if I win, I get a kiss on the first date.”

“Wait, what??”

“Catch ya later, [Y/N].” 

“But you never wagered how long you’d take!”

By then Axel had already purchased the book and was exiting the door, giving you a devilish smirk once again that made your heart skip a beat. A few hours later, while you were finishing up your day at the bookstore, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. An unknown number showed up on your screen. The text was of a picture of a notebook, lined with notes and observations from The Great Gatsby. Axel, that sly fox. 

A: Finished, sweetheart. Looks like you owe me a kiss :*

[romy350-romyakari]

So a quick question I have for you. (May not have a short answer) But what do you think Gula's personality to be like? What kind of strengths and weaknesses does he have? Beyond the obvious he's logical and reserved and clever, more in-depth traits that make his character fuller and more like a real person. I'd like to hear some of your deep analysation if you don't mind.

This has take long enough and I want to post it now. [Will edit this maybe later bur now I finish the visuals lets get down to this]

Oh boy

You call it

Everybody prepare bc this may have take me awhile but be ready for my analysis at some level of him.

Warning: this is kind of my personal view of all and may sound weird at some level but I am trying to make sense to all of them (Foretellers in general). I elaborate this in my way to plan some fanfics and to do so i kind of take my time on try to analyse what I had.

You may want to go straight to Conclusions but I point out too circular thoughts at the beginning just for the sake of think of this a bit more

Analysis of Gula:

Cold headed and one of the most clever and quick to catch up stuff that may be happening. He is between the Master of Masters apprentices one of the youngest and has a special friendship develop with Ava, the youngest between all as it seems.

This is the basic we know and I want to put as a base for what I will dive at some point and ramificate to them all in a light way just to reference a bit.

Observations:

Out of my obserbations between one of the strongest things the Master’s apprentices share is their faith that the Master is right.

Back on the scene where Ira confronts them and they acknowledge a nightmare roaming the scene cuts to a flashback which different from the present it has a warm and familiar vive. The Master hold them together, they would laugh and be somehow unite, but the present just will reveal how little they may actually know each other, most of them.

The fact that Ira doubts who to point as most of the other and the rest of the movie with the exception of the bond between Gula and Ava.

Why I point this? This is something special, Gula doesn’t seem to be close to anyone except Ava. He trusts her almost to a degree as his faith for the Master but on a friend to friend way, enough to reveal her and talk about his role completely and openly on his weakest moment .

+ He can care under his masks

Gula didn’t really like his role tha much I think. He didn’t even want the Master to disappear the way he did. But let me add my point on how he came to the conclusion he just wanted things to be the way they were before by summoning KH.

He seems to be usually quick to find a solution or reasoning with whatever he has in front of him but as time passes and he hasn’t been able to succeed as any other task he may have been previously assigned. Even with his best he may have feel the stress of all falling down as I guess, every passing day and thing going worse is clear sing that he hasn’t fuli hir role as his own expectatives. He only show his weak side on the moment he feels can’t deal with it alone after months.

+ Stress if you allow me to say.

It may be me but his minimum expressions show that he didn’t like the whole “Trust no one but yourself”. He may have let it pass about Invi, Ira and Aced but the fact it include Ava may throw him off been one of the closes person he had aside the Master. He wanted to trust her and he did, even if he constantly try to remind himself his Master words.

When he got lost and no more choices left for him to take on his mind there was the last plan: Summon Kingdom Hearts may lure the Master back, right? He would not let them fall intro such foolish actions, right? or so I think may be what pass through his mind or some nature of that. To everything fall since he in no able to fulfill his role.

+ Pressure which equals at rushed actions.

He may be one of the most precise and calculative between the 6 but, he at the end even if he is the genius one he does make mistakes. Like maybe talk a bit too much into the detail sometimes, he is young so understandable he rushes a bit too much sometimes, some few times really. When he slip the fact that Invi talk him into leaving Aced’s alliance he cover any mistake fluently and so naturally that I think he may know how to handle when he wants to clear stuff is he kind of messes up at this point but he could also play the facts though if you pay attention you can tell when he say something he didn’t need to on the moment. He sure knows how to keep an act if is need.

+ Effectiveness though minor struggles on the way

Gula is a boy who keep closed to others if people don’t try much to reach to him as I guess. Ava and the master seem the type to like to know the others but I think Ira, Invi, and Aced been young adults dealing with whatever is their duty they may have let pass the young one if he wanted to approach them or not, they would not mind. My faint guess is that he doesn’t show much of his true self to other and keep the cold headed manner since is what he may feel is expect to him and may be easier than show vulnerability of his own thinking and feeling at personal level, he may show it sometimes to the Master but I guess not that much since he may want to be probe at the others level been one of the youngest.

While I feel Ava been the most reachable one may have reach to him and with time build this friendship bond they have. The only scene I saw Gula drop his ‘mask’ was when He sincere to Ava and how he feel, how pointless his role seem or how much of almost a failure he got to be in a subtle way, he could no more and share with her what has been burdening him. But she could not help him because it go against her moral, he respect that and tae his mask up and wish for her the only thing the others didn’t say to him.

+ A mask over other mask

A/N: personally at this point I am sobbing a bit inside ; ;

But even after all, even if she turn him down, she is still his friend.

So i will touch the mobile game since I doubt their last conversation was that but his will be a bit more lighter so we can reach my conclusion. I can just assume a bit here and arrange facts but maybe is me trying to understand him.

After that on Back Cover I believe that wasn’t their final talk and may had another talk before the war but at this point I assume a pre-stress state creeping on them.

Gula may have go off with his plan but I don’t think he remember he badly even after that. He keep his believes strong towards his plans which I personally feel may be his attempt of ‘desperate try’ to get the Master to come back to all of them.

He may feel he can’t do anything about the end at this point.

In this moment on the timeline I assume pretty much each foreteller has fall in osme hole of pre-stress with the Keyblade War already on their heads. Which I assume took the drastic change I perceive on the story previously and at the war. Al is ending and I am not an expert but is the only thing I could think. Kids weren’t acting as kids too at this point in some cases because they were as well exposed to this opriment part of their story, fights between wielder became frequently and so all fall apart till it reach its end.

And the reborn.

He did try to wear his mask till the end and he did.

But it wasn’t over there as you know from the Epilogue on the Dark Seeker Saga. So let me one last time before reach the conclusions, there is so few left from me repeating stuff like crazy and to the best resume I can give and is more simple but I want to point this out before dive into it.

He got back to life, but even so you all hear him ask Luxu a reason why would he not include Ava. The bond of this two is a special thing I think the Master didn’t mind but will always be something to the matter, because they care about each other and if Ava’s out I have high expectation for him to want to know what become of her.

Hear me right here, the Master may still be important to them but Gula was expecting the Master to appear, maybe a childish thing that he would save them all because he was always hold in high regard by all of them but I think his faith may be starting to shake on a slightly not solid ground. Ava didn’t help him bug did give her an answer and even so is still his friend as so he to her.

Friendship has proved to be a factor that can get you to change views or who you choose to ally so I suppose he may play along but may not let this down, still this is a faint though with all going and and I first write most of the important remarks for this before this semi rambling part, sorry about that.

Conclusions:

Gula is a teenager that has got big responsibilities, may wear a mask ver the real one with his cool headed demeanor. tuns down companionship but if you get to actually know him you may notice this is just one side of his personality.

Weighted with the responsibility to stop an inevitable betrayal, and torn between his master’s orders and the believe one of the few he trusted till he could not longer wanted to do it all alone. shows weakness and vulnerability only with the ones he trusts and can keep appreciating said trusted people even if they are not up to help him on the moment. Loyal to some degrees.

Slips and messes up but tries to keep the control of the situation even so, flexible as the situation calls. but will always to be reasonable unless he is really into do a thing on his way, so kind of stubborn I will say.

Sassy when it calls and also probably honest s needed, a mechanism to comebacks or protection maybe but mostly used to handle situations.

May have his reasons to be so close and reserved. Life is not always fair you may guess.

At the end he is just a kid would may have been happy with the few he had before all this mess start to fall down and deserve a better guidance on social skills. He means no bad but truly would be more understood if there could have been time to work with his reserved ways and mistrust to the world in general out of his closed circle of people he trusted.

He is clever but still just a kid handed down a responsibility of something bigger than him.

He as the other may have get this to work if they have know at some good portion each other and had a light weight of trust. But that wasn’t the case this time.

He is a piece on this game after all where he still may remain for a while while, or who knows?.

Okey so I finally end this mess, I did some doodles but most of all I wanted to go around this thing I may overthinking and so. i truly love gula for the many ways you can read though him slowly and maybe I can help but wish happiness for him or so I hope, because he as the others deserve a chance to learn many thing out of dutty and be more than just a piece of something that was set to be.

I don’t think he means bad but I wish he could have learn more, maybe if he were to connect with others he would have archive some progress with his way to be, I believe it may had to do with past experience but out of all, I wish i could know more on what he think out of all of been back. If he goes full change of banc I am going to cheer for him and even the other as sobbing, is just maybe that I see him and the other as humans as possible gets me soft but I wish each of them could work on their own issues with the time flow on them and encounters in the future

Geez I suck at this and just may go in circles but I think it maybe was good to remak.

Thanks for getting this far if you read all!

[magicalgirlfumiko]

Just feel like posting one of my short stories set in this blog’s world. 

The Dwindling Flowers chronicles the lives of several young mages that work for the Organisation (The Original Agency). They are magical soldiers called the Flowers to trained to fight evil born from curses of mankind. These people no longer exist to the world. Their memories are wiped clean and their family never knew they ever existed. These mages live solely to protect the balance of the worlds. Why they were chosen to become Flowers, is for the Organisation‘s ears only. The difference between our world and the world of Dwindling Flowers' Organization primarily comes from magic. As such, the 'timeline,' as it were, has diverged in several places. For starters, Nikola Tesla was a celebrated mage scientist until his death in 1945 of natural causes in the Great Magickal War of 1914-1953. His wireless telegraphy system expanded into cordless and cellular phones by 1960, though it was deadened by 1969 after consumers lost confidence in American industry. This brings us to the present day. The Cold War instead ended in 1998 with the dissolution of the Soviet Union, after which they lost a special little magical super soldier to the Organisation. The cellphone industry boomed as well. And Provere, France? Well, things are getting a little strange.

Provere City, France 04:50 A.M. 21 Nov. 2013

Judith pushed her hat down over her eyes. The men and women of the Provere police force all knew her, but she was still trying to at least be a little inconspicuous. She walked over the Jeanne d'Arc bridge with purpose, though, as the latest victim of the 'Morpheus' murders still hung below. Her report was that he was hung by a rope of braided human hair.

The victim himself, one Ansolom Broussard, was a simple taxi driver from the eastern district. The slums. He was a heavy-set man, with a family to feed. Someone was going to have to tell them. It wasn't Judith though. She just wanted the details, like the answer why to the fact that his cab was found three miles away abandoned, the ticket still marked. It was warm but dark and humid. A light rain coming down, as typically happened on the nights of these murders. She watched the cops pull the body up, and watched as the coroner and the R.I.S. closed up the scene and sampled the follicles from the noose. The only reason they could tell it was hair in the first place was that whoever did this left some at the top of the bridge. As the R.I.S. worked on the hair samples, she was busy taking pictures of the body. The first picture was the face and neck, showing lacerations and bruising from the noose, as well as an obvious change of angle in the windpipe. Next was the torso, which showed almost no damage except perhaps where it hit the abutment below. A close-up of each hand seemed to show no resistance. Curious. Hardly any scuffing on his shoes either. She went about her business and took pictures of the noose after the R.I.S.had finished sampling. “Thanks, Dion,” she said, smiling wanly. The rain picked up a little bit, a constant drizzle now. She turned to her phone, compiling the messages into a mass text. Constant; Camille; Piper CC: Crime Scene #6 Attached are seven pictures of the victim and the apparent murder weapon. It's definitely connected. Meet me on the Jeanne d'Arc in twenty minutes. That should give us enough time. -J Also, Constant – Leave Katyusha out of this. She didn't have time for petty politics, so she just nipped that in the bud.

"Oo ye yi!" Screamed a young woman with raven hair as her phone buzzed. 

Her name was Camille. She was a mage of Acadian ancestry that had been selected by the Organisation due to her efficiency with French Alchemist tomes and spells upon leaving Quebec to further her mage studies.

Camille had been drinking some warm coffee that just been brewed on the small stove top in her shared apartment with Constant. She nearly jumped out of her clothing when her phone's buzzer went off, causing her fumble around the cramped kitchen to reach for the device. Upon pulling the phone out, it appeared to be rather large and clunky. This technology was one of a newer type of fusion between modern science and magic. 

"Oh god...." She muttered. Her eyes looked drained as she began to study the photographs closely. She always had to deal with the pictures of corpses first since Constantina conventionally seemed to always misplace her phone.

"CONTAST!" Camille yelled as she walked out of the kitchen sideways just to get out of that room and into the shared main common area where both of their beds were.

"The boss w-wants us to be get ready for something...." She then tossed the phone at her partner. "Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory!"

"S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved." Camille said this to annoy Constant for not having her phone again.

Constantina, the Greek operative of the Organisation , blinked sleepily. She heard her Quebecian sidekick distantly yell her name. “conSTANT!”

:I told you to stop calling me that...” She thought in her haze. "The boss w-wants to be get ready for something....” 

“Huh? Yeah, she usually did.”. 

“Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory..." Consti felt the phone hit her smack in the stomach, and she opened her eyes. Seriously. What now? Their cramped barrack room was stuffy with the odd heat.

Yawning, she sat up, phone still on her stomach. "S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved." 

Damn it! Stop calling her that! “Shut up about Katyusha! She's not my girlfriend!” Of course, that got Constantina fired up. It always did. The absolute loathing she had for that woman... But in the end, didn't she want to be just like her? Eyes still half glazed with sleep, she picked up the phone and scrolled through the pictures. “Huh. This is bad. Not the worst I've ever seen, but pretty terrible.” 

She rolled out of bed, grabbing yesterday's gear to slip it back on. It wasn't dirty, she had only worn it for a meeting with Judith. Of course, she mimicked Katyusha's deadpan. It really wasn't THAT bad, and even though you never really get used to seeing a corpse, she had to seem strong for her partner.  After she got dressed, she stole a cup of Camille's coffee. She didn't even like the stuff, but she needed caffeine desperately. “Hey, Cami, can you help me find my phone?” She tripped over it the next moment. “Never mind...” Katyusha will not be involved. Ever. Thanks. She shot Judith a text.

Camille cocked an eyebrow at the half awake Constantina. "R-Really? With how much you complain about that Soviet, I would think you secretly harbor a deep caring for her." Once again she continued to egg Constant on. 

Camille understood why Constantina wished to be well respected like that Russian. Katyusha was a force to be reckoned with. Whenever Camille came across her, she kept her distance. "O-Okay, maybe they aren't the worst photographs ever." Camille sighed. "I just don't like always having to be the first ones that see them. You're the scout, I'm the backup...What happens if I am not there to do the research for you?" "Hey!!! My coffee..." Camille sighed. Once again, her small pot was swiped. It seemed that after this meeting, she would have to go to the cafe for tea. Ten minutes later, Constantina and Camille stepped out into the street. The weather was unnaturally warm for November. It was 21 degrees Celsius, rainy and humid as hell. 

“This is going to do wonders to my hair,” Consti thought almost absentmindedly. She pushed her hood over her head, both to protect her hair and to attempt to hide her sword. Her favorite camera was tucked safely in its waterproof bag, so she didn't have to worry about that.But... this case. 

Why were the Flowers being put on it? She had to admit that the bit about the hair was weird - and awful. But, really? Most of their cases were much more... odd. Much more bloody, too, like the case of the bull spirit. It gored seventeen people in one night before it was put down. 

That was a Katyusha case though. She helped, what little she could, but... damn it. She really had to stop thinking about that Russian reject.“

Hey, you think we should hail a cab? Or just take the truck?” That was always the difficult part. Sometimes a cab was helpful because they never, ever listened to traffic laws, but at the same time, hiding a sword on her back was way harder. Stupid time of year for her to be taking lead on a case. 

Was she ready?---The girls were late, again. Judith realized they were just waking up, most of them anyway. This scene was getting colder, however, and Constantina knew better. The coroner was packing the body away, taking it to the morgue for the autopsy. If this was anything like the last murder, they'd find his stomach filled with hair as well.She fired off another text to the girls.You're late.

Again.She didn't really think she needed to expound on that, Constantina knew it was for her. You're supposed to be leading these girls, Constant, not teaching them how to be lazy. Oh, well, she would give her a new ass later.

"Do you have enough money to take a cab?" Camille asked Constant.

If there was a constant theme for Constantina and Camille was that money between them was always short. Camille was constantly buying random old objects and texts to add to her collection. The older an item was, the more likely that it could have hidden potential magic.

"Then again...I am not sure if I trust you with driving the unit's truck...Ever since the Cheval Mallet incident, I-I still have flashbacks to when you used it to ram that otherworldly horse into the depths of the sea." Camille said.

She then hugged her book bag that contained her spell book. Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was actually friends with Constantina or one of her biggest critics.

“That horse was kidnapping people, so I hit it with the truck. Sue me,” was Consti's retort. 

“Anyway, I suppose you can drive - if you get the lead out.” 

Cheval Mallet was supposedly folklore, but with the history of the Flowers, and even what each girl could do... Not everything is as fake as people think.

They hit the road a few minutes later, air conditioning blaring. Constantina was extremely tempted to kick Camille out of the driver's seat. People were passing them as though they were standing still. Cautious was understandable, especially after the Cheval Mallet incident—the horse didn't even die, apparently—but this was ridiculous. “Hey, Camille, I thought we agreed for you to step on it!” she repeated often.

"I am doing the speed limit. If we go over it, we'll get noticed." She stated.

An orange horizon greeted them by the time they actually reached the Jeanne d'Arc. Twenty minutes their collective asses, it was now 6:10, and Judith was clearly heated. Consti swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn...

“Constantina,” boss lady really didn't waste time on ripping her a new one. “Do you have ANY idea what twenty minutes mean?”

Again, she swallowed. One of the few things she truly hated—other than Katyusha—was getting in trouble with Judith. It always started with the dress-down, but her disapproval lasted so much longer. “Yes, Judith, I know what twenty minutes meant.”

“I suppose you have an excuse?”

How about I don't know how you're going to make a forty minute drive in twenty, including dress time? “No. I don't.” 

Even with her Mediterranean heritage, she suddenly felt like it was 130 degrees with enough humidity you couldn't towel dry. Judith at least seemed satisfied with her answer because she immediately wheeled on her for something else. In this case, she was not wearing the regulation uniform.

“You do realize we have a dress code?”

 After she parked the car, finally Camille slowly got herself ready. Judith seemed to know that this bookworm took her time, it was just a part of her duty as the magus of the group. Camille then adjusted her cap, so that it was squared more on her head. She then got out of the truck and slung her heavy side bag over her body.

"I apologize, Commissar." Camille said. "I'll make sure to go a bit faster with the truck. I don't trust it that much. A-Anyways, outside of lax uniform wear...What would like to discuss with us?"

Judith paused her tirade for a moment, studying the girls. Camille was attentive, always listening and taking criticism with the astute purpose of bettering herself, other than when it came to her driving. She was like that to a fault, often backing down when she should be getting angry and stepping up to the plate.

Constantina wanted so badly to be like Katyusha, going so far as to hate her. But in reality, she might be strong – and decent with her sword – but it was her words that made her useful. A real crowd pleaser, easily placating the masses in a situation like this.

“Constantina. Lead these girls like you're supposed to. If you can drive faster than Camille, do so. Get here when you're supposed to. Learn to sleep lightly, as you should have been the first one awake.

Pacing across from them, she considered what was actually important. The body, the man hung up by ropes made of human hair. And hair that defied science.

“Anyways, here's the situation. This is the sixth such murder in the last three months, spaced exactly two weeks apart. Positive ID on all of the victims. The first four were Jack the Ripper style murders, all of them prostitutes out of the red light district. The last two, a businessman and this cab driver, while a-typical, mimic murders that happened over a hundred years ago, and a hundred more than that. Pattern also stands that there are four more victims. One an officer of justice, so keep an eye out for that. Do you two have any real questions about this?”

"Is it possible for me to get a piece of the hair?" Camille asked quickly. "I-I mean, before the Agency’s researchers get their hands on it. My tomes might be able to sense something about what we're dealing with. If what you are saying is fact...That there have been historical accounts going back several hundred years...We can pinpoint a common thread. Maybe...Constantina and I can work together on some scouting out clues once I connect the dots?" She knew it was going to be a long shot. The Agency always got its hands on the supernatural before the local cops or civilians could make answers out of it. The simple answer was that it never happened or it was mass hysteria.

For once, Judith lacked the forethought to utilize a Flower's magic. It wasn't that it never happened, but it wasn't often, for sure. Quickly, she scanned the bridge, looking to see if anything had been untouched. She sighed. “I'm sure we'll find something for you to use.” Clearly, Judith was having an off day.

Jack the Ripper... Still alive after a century and a half. Why was the Agency so sure it was him? It could be any number of monstrous people. This wasn't even his modus operandi.

The braid! She'd kept the braid the killer had used as a noose. She'd hid that from the Agency’s Forensic Team to show the girls just what kind of monster they were up against. “We do have the noose that was used.”

[ilovehighhats]

Reticulum, ch. 02

On the next morning after the fateful day when they learned of Anna's death, Bane sat Helena down in his living room and started an in-depth questioning.

Each and every person at the Easter table was carefully investigated and scrutinised, all findings noted in meticulous detail, and pinned to the wall outside Bane's bedroom. Out of sight of prying eyes, but readily available for him or Helena, if she chose to add any information she previously omitted.

As it turned out Bane, as it was, knew an insane amount of details about Helena's life, and by extension her friends. But there were blanks, all the more noticeable for his experienced and brilliant mind.

“So, Lucy and Tom, you’ve never met them before.”

“That's right. And I didn't really talk much with any of them during the brunch. Tom mentioned he's working on a novel about living out in the woods. A ‘Walden’ of sorts, I think? Lucy was too far away, and since they came late and then the whole ordeal with Anna began I didn't have an opportunity to engage any of them properly.”

“He's been truthful about his occupation, but she has some interesting things in her resume,” Bane commented, but ignored Helena curious gaze and moved on with his questions. “Next, our thespian,” he spat the last word with distaste. “What do we know of Alex? Of course there is a trove of information on his personal life online.” He clicked his teeth and winked to snickering Helena. “But we need something less common and more substantial.”

“He's gay,” Helena supplied. “All those rumours of dates with models and fellow actresses is just publicity. He wants to build his fanbase as wide as he can.”

“Indeed?” this time Bane's tone in voice was unusually gleeful.

A small smile graced Helena’s lips.

“Were you jealous of him?”

“That scrawny little pest? Of course not,” he replied with a derisive snort.

“Of course not,” the scribe mocked. “Who's next?”

“Magnus.”

“Met him for the first time, but Grace and Graham mentioned the boy frequently. He's from a very low-income family, a single parent I think. Grace mentioned something about a very old acquaintance. They finance his studies, which basically means they pay his monthly expenses. I don't know the details.“

“Perhaps they would like to correct an aspect of this society that isn't to their liking.“

“What do you mean?”

“You may remember I noticed that the brunch was like a scene from a novel. Let's talk about our gracious hosts. Both are over their sixties. There is a longing there, a nostalgia for what had been. They're playing bridge. No one plays bridge anymore.”

“They're charming people,” Helena argued. She knew them for years now, and always could rely on Grace’s motherly advice or Graham’s generous hand with alcohol.

“Did you know that Graham was a high ranking officer in CIA?”

“I thought he was some kind of retired chemistry professor.”

“He is. A person can be more than one thing.”

“None of them ever mentioned anything of the sort. Do you think Grace knows?”

“She disabled perimeter detectors that day when she came to invite us to brunch.”

The information visibly shook the scribe.

“You have that kind of security?“ she gasped.

“We have,” Bane corrected pointedly. “And I've replaced them and changed the pattern to something she wouldn't know. added some new toys as well,” he murmured the last part tapping a finger to his lips pensively.

“Oh, my.”

“You thought Grace was just a homemaker.”

“When they lived here we visited each other very frequently. She had never been anything other than friendly, pleasant and appropriate. She does charity work, and has some innocent pastimes.”

“Did you ever take her to the shooting range?”

“No. I go alone. For a while, I used to go with a friend, but it was only because I met him there already.”

That piece information caught Bane’s attention enough to make him swirl around to face Helena again.

“Who?”

“Weren't we supposed to talk about people at the brunch?”

His eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly let go.

“We'll get to that later, then. So, Grace and Graham are a veritable mystery to you. Our friendly policeman and his family, do they have any secrets or peculiarities?“

“Tirill works with Anna at the school. And they both have tried to convince me to start calligraphy workshops for kids. Jack is mostly out in Oslo, studying. When she comes on weekends, we sometimes see each other at Hanson’s, but that's that. “

“You didn't mention anything about Knut.“

“Nothing to say. How did you know him?”

“We met when I first came here to buy the land, and then when I was building cottages.”

“Did he see you without the mask back then?”

“Yes.”

“That's wonderful.“

“I'm glad you're happy about it. “

“No, I'm serious. Look, that story about you studying in Hong Kong and then working as an antique dealer, and now making the people here know and remember you before Gotham! It's the best cover!”

“Most of that was true.” The sofa dipped when he sat down with a small grunt. “The point of our little exercise here is to sow the oats of the official facade, and get to the truth underneath.”

The remainder was sobering. It was just as Bane said. The truth could be hidden beneath what was apparent and ostensibly obvious. Even though he was an astrophysicist and a historian he also was a terrorist and a killer.

“Who do we have left?” she asked with a tired sigh.

“Sven and Anna.”

The spite in Bane’s words reminded Helena of his terse exchange with the medic at the brunch.

“What do you have against my good doctor?”

“Nothing. What gave you the idea I have anything against the man?”

“Dorrance, you said to him. Not Tony, like you introduced yourself to others. Why single him out?”

“Alex and Magnus also didn't get to call me by my first name.”

“Oh, but Lucy did feel right at home calling you Tony,“ she pointed out.

“I didn't notice.”

“Right.”

Bane hid a satisfied curl of his lips.

“Is there anything at all you think is relevant regarding Anna or her father?”

“You know, I always thought she was a tad closer to Graham than Grace. It was subtle but seemed like whenever I visited she was keeping close to him. Nothing overt. Maybe it was because Grace is such good friends with Sven. Come to think of it, I would not be too fond of listening to my parents' chit-chat, so that's probably it.”

“Probably.”

“Why are you asking me all those questions?”

“I told you. One of the guests at the brunch may have been a killer. I won’t stand to have someone like that near you.”

“Is that all? You’re wasting your time and considerable mind power to maybe find a perpetrator of a possible crime. Because as far as I know, it was an accident, wasn’t it? Listen, time is the most precious of resources. We all have a finite amount of it. Even the most brilliant of geniuses,” she sent him a pointed look, “has the same twenty-four hours in a day, as we all do. You could leave the police work to the police, and focus on your dark matter or whatnot.”

“Dark waves,” he corrected gruffly. “Let’s consider this my hobby.”

“An escape from the tedious day job?” She laughed.

“Something like that.” Bane gathered her close, and kissed her temple, then hid his nose behind her ear and inhaled the fragrance of her hair deeply. “It will help me stay calm.”

Helena couldn’t argue with that.

oOo

On Wednesday Helena went out with Bane as he was leaving for his pilates class. She had a date with Grace right after and needed to do some shopping in the free hour she’d get before the class ended. Then it was an afternoon of helping with the funeral affairs, the notices, the flower arrangements, the musicians. All that tedious and costly work that needed to be done, but no one ever wanted to actually take care of.

And then there was the prospect of a visit to the chapel, to seal the casket after a short ceremony for the closest family.

In the church there was only Sven, sobbing quietly on Grace’s shoulder. Helena was standing awkwardly beside them feeling like a third wheel. The doctor left some trinkets on Anna’s chest, and both women put in a simple rose each, and then it was done. The scribe didn’t even listen to the priest, the prayers foreign to her not only because of the language but also because she felt them unnecessary.

She remembered when she thought that Bane and Dorrance were both dead, back when she didn’t know she was actually mourning one person. The trips to the sea were her prayers, steely sky and stormy sea her church, cold sand under her feet was her pew. The wind howled a requiem every day, and the vastness of the water reflected how empty she felt. Everything was hidden beneath the waves, and the surface looked as if no life was there. Only different brands of emptiness.

Grace’s palm at her shoulder brought Helena out of her musings, and she sent a pale grimace resembling a smile Sven’s way. He nodded and left with the priest, while Grace hooked her arm with Helena's and started the opposite direction, out the main entrance and into her car.

Drive to Helena's cottage was mostly silent.

“She was so young,” Grace said while waiting for the lights to change.

Helena looked over and saw that the older woman’s eyes were glued to a pair of people sitting on a bench. They were kissing. Despite the cold, the girl had a simple dress on, and the boy didn't have a proper coat. But they looked comfortable and happy.

“Reckless,” Grace added.

Helena observed her when the light changed, and the car moved obediently forward under the experienced touch.

“Why do you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That Anna was reckless. She seemed pretty dull to me, actually.”

“She had her little secrets. Still wet behind the ears, but thought she was an old dog.”

The comment was angry. Unusual and uncharacteristic, especially since both women always seemed to get along just fine.

“Don’t we all have our mysteries? The undisclosed desires and actions under wraps?“

“I guess we all do. Sorry, I’m still shaken.”

“I understand, don’t worry.” There was still some five minutes of the drive ahead, and Helena would hate to part on a sour note. “You have a lot on your plate, especially with how much you help out Sven.”

“Thank you, darling,” Grace sighed. “To be honest, I’m worried about the clinic. Sven needs someone to cover for Anna until we find a full-time replacement, and we can’t have the girls at the reception desk doing overtime for a month. But he doesn’t feel like recruiting now, and who can blame him?”

“I could help out,” Helena offered. “Not like I have anything better to do anyway. Small commissions won’t be taking too much of my time, and I can spare few hours every day to help.”

“Would you really?” Grace perked up. “Oh, that would be wonderful!”

“Sure, let’s get over the details after the funeral. I’ll be able to start next Tuesday.”

“We have the schedule fixed until the end of the month, but I'll be sure to ask if any of the girls would like to change her hours. And you could start a regular shift in May, just four or six hours a day, until we find someone.”

“Sure thing.”

Grace stopped by Bane’s cottage at Helena’s request and refused to go in for a cup of tea, excusing herself with her tiredness. Maybe it was for the better, the scribe thought, seeing how absorbed Bane was with his notes. She let herself in through the main entrance, the one either of them rarely used, which left her approaching Bane from the corridor. He was sitting with his back to her, fireplace blazing, a cup of tea on the table in front of him, along with some loose sheets of paper. He was scribbling something but stopped as soon as he felt Helena's palm slide over his shoulders.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Not yet. Did you wait with dinner?”

“I did.”

“That’s nice,” she said.

Bane dropped his papers to the side when she circled the sofa and climbed on his lap. His lips stretched in an amused warm smile when Helena nuzzled the side of his neck, the sensation pleasantly tingling.

“Your nose is cold.”

“I’m warm someplace else, wanna check?”

“Perhaps later.”

“What are you working on?”

“My hobby.”

She chuckled into his arm and straightened with a resigned sigh.

“You’re incorrigible. Obsessed with a problem until it’s picked apart and explained in its entirety.”

“That’s… An accurate characteristic,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“Grace is very similar to you in that regard. She is so absorbed into the funeral arrangements she even started organising Sven’s clinic.”

“Did she?”

“Mhm. What's for dinner?” She slid away and went towards the kitchen, stretching arms over her back with a slight gasp.

“I’ve made curry. Rice is warm in the cooker.”

Bane sat at the counter, watching Helena wash her hands, then ladle out the meal.

“So what's with the clinic, why does it need organising?”

“Anna used to help out at the reception desk, so now the rest of the girls have to juggle overtime to cover for her absence. I offered to help.”

“Indeed?”

Helena set the bowls on the table and slid out the cutlery drawer without looking.

“Grace was so tired with all the stuff she does, and then she started telling me how they have to find someone to take Anna's place. And of course, Sven is in no state to hire anyone at this point. So she said they had to find a way to fill the gap, but it is straining everyone, and she worried so much about it.”

“Did she say ‘we’ while talking about the clinic?” Bane asked before tucking into his meal.

“Several times.” The spoon stilled midway to Helena's mouth, and she set in back in the bowl after a second. “Why?”

“She’s not working there. Nor is she an owner.”

“So what gives her the impulse, or the right to treat clinic affairs as her own?”

“As her’s and Sven’s.”

“They are pretty close.”

“Too close?”

“Hard to say.”

“Worth a check,” Bane said in the end.

“But not tonight,” Helena cautioned. “I require your assistance.”

Bane compiled, and let Helena snuggle with him on the couch watching a movie on Netflix.

But he was scribbling in his notes again when she left, barely raising his head when she said goodnight and lowered over him for a parting kiss.

oOo

The door opened almost noiselessly, the only sound disturbing the tranquillity of the living room was the seal hissing slightly when the door detached from the frame and a single squeal of the hinges. Helena expected to see Bane in the kitchen or reading on the sofa, but the whole room was dark.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” she yelled towards the corridor. “You missed the lunch hours, so it’s dinner time already!”

Perhaps he was asleep? Lately, he did have a habit of grabbing a few hours of sleep during the day. Helena knew it was because he could barely catch any rest at night, so she didn’t comment on that. Good thing he could get some respite at all.

She walked cautiously down the corridor, making sure she was as noisy as possible.

“Are you in your bedroom?” she asked, the smile on her face transported in her voice. “If you are there won't be any more sleeping, you know that?”

She stopped just outside his door. Open. The bed was made and seemingly untouched, and the room looked neat and ordinary as ever.

Helena frowned, looking around to see if anything at all was out of place. But no, save for the bizarre display just beyond the entrance it all seemed perfectly normal.

With a sigh she neared the wall in the corridor, transferred by Bane into a repositorium of his knowledge over people present at the brunch. The information she offered was put down on the paper, the notes much more extensive than she first realised. He had researched those people in depth, and she wondered when and why. Certainly, she never told him when Magnus's birthday was, and yet that date was on a sheet of paper dedicated to the man, along with a picture of him, and even more notes. His family history, his education? Ties to Hanson’s and other people at the table?

How did Bane know all that?

She inspected the papers, amazed at the intricate details and the insane attention to any possible links at all. There even was a sketch of the table itself, with the placement of guests and pencilled in numbers. Helena had five and nine, Bane eleven and ten.

She wondered, what did it all mean?

The silence of the cottage felt oppressive all of a sudden. There was no one there. Only the wind blew at the wooden and concrete structure, making the roof moan slightly as it always did. It never bothered Helena before, but today it felt ominous. Foreboding.

Bane was nowhere in sight.

Just to make sure, she inspected every nook and cranny, even those which she rarely visited. The boiler room, bathroom and toilet, laundry room and pantry. Last was Bane's study, converted from the old dining room, which he used mostly as a storage space for books and papers. Helena barely saw him work there, he mostly just sat in the living room. At least he did that whenever she was home with him.

There was no note anywhere, not in the kitchen, nor in her room, so with a shaky sigh she sat down by the dark fireplace and took out her phone.

No messages there either.

Bane was under ‘ICE Dorrance, Tony <3’  and she felt a pang of resentment that even in her own smartphone she couldn't just call him by his real name. But it was out of the question, and she understood of course. Still, it didn’t feel right.

When she dialled up, she heard the worst possible answer.

“The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later.”

At that moment fear gripped her so harshly, Helena felt her chest tighten.

What could have happened to him?

[092219archive]

Your last comic w lute got me thinking, what sort of dynamic does eren have with the other members of eph and eirika’s group? Any in particular that eren is friends with? (treble)

you know, funnily enough, eren has 0 relations with lute and i added her because i asked my younger brother, “who in sacred stones— besides ephraim or eren— would be the most likely one to swear? like, modern slang. like ass.”

“you.”

“i said besides eren.”

“oh, lute. you have to add her glasses on though.”

BUT, you do have me thinking about what kind of relationship eren has with everyone else besides eirika and ephraim, so thank you for sending this ask in, treb!

i’m only going to do “playable characters” but only a select few. eren can’t interact with everybody but i feel that most of them would respect her status as a soldier, if nothing else.

eirika: (wow who could’ve guessed) so… at first, eren didn’t really see much in eirika other than the textbook definition of “hero” and heroes aren’t necessarily people that interested eren in the long run. eirika’s ideals of “i don’t want to fight as it causes bloodshed, but i must protect my land and the people that i care for” is so utterly cheesy to someone like eren who fought because “someone told them to.” but what makes eirika stand out from all of the other soldiers is how compassionate she is, even while staring death in the face.

she’s tough, and she can stand up for herself and those ideals of hers. eirika isn’t afraid to fight for what she believes in and she’s not going to back down. she cares for others and her kindness drives her to improve and become stronger. when innes was so insistent on protecting eirika even though she ended up being the one protecting him?

it’s the fact that eirika can be such a kind leader that still stands tall no matter the circumstances that brings eren to her in the first place.

if ephraim’s not there, eirika is eren’s voice of reason, the light that banishes the darkness that plagues eren’s mind. eirika is patient and understanding because eren’s been through a lot. whenever eren has the time, she helps eirika with her duties because of just how much eirika has done and more.

seth: the wiki does say that seth “watches over the welfare of everyone” so i can imagine that he’d have to check in with eren at some point as well. he probably… would not take to eren very kindly, as they’re not like duessel who was there with the renais siblings since birth and they’re also not from renais.

he probably wouldn’t mean any harm, as both ephraim and eirika trust that eren won’t harm anyone in the army, but seth would probably be a little wary of eren because who knows what they can do? former enemy, talented and fierce soldier, now in the proximity of the rest of the army— that’s not the most optimal situation.

like, when eren first joined ephraim’s army, they isolated herself bad. they knew that they wouldn’t be well taken to considering they were apart of the enemy’s forces at one point. and their existence was a little out there, with rumors akin to the one’s around jaffar. it’s like how he’s referred to as the angel of death, etc.

but as eren communicates with others or is communicated to, they loosen up a little bit and starts to become more “friendly” and interact with others like any other soldier in the army. and seth does take note of this, of course. i think in due time, he stops being as cautious around eren as he once was. he treats eren like a solider that’s with them.

lute: so, i can definitely imagine eren and lute being surprisingly good friends, especially since the comic. lute wants answers to a lot of things that don’t really have “specific answers” to, and eren is not the greatest at answering questions they’ve never thought about. lute would definitely be the one to approach eren with potentially strange questions, and eren’s there, completely unknowing on how to react or answer.

as lute hangs around eren more, i can see eren becoming less “what the fuck” to “an oddball but i like her company.” they could probably have “average conversations” (which would sound strange with how lute can word things) which would build further onto their strange friendship.

forde: eren would definitely find some kind of vibe with forde. likes to sleep, a fantastic artist. fe!eren doesn’t draw or anything, but i feel they’d want to learn how to since it’s something that’s always been fascinating to them. forde would start from the basics, move up to more complex things like refinery if he wasn’t sleeping… and he’s a chill dude, so eren wouldn’t be as anxious when it comes to talking to him. they’d probably paint self portraits of each other once eren was able to get the hang of painting, maybe adding joking features like a mustache or silly quotes.

tana: okay, i’ll be honest, i didn’t like tana at first because i stray away from more upbeat characters. but as the game progressed and i saw more and more of tana’s dialogue and supports, i realized that tana is a really realistic character. she has goals and motivations like anybody else, and she’s brave enough to do risky things because she wants to prove herself capable of protecting those she loves and cares about.

eren would probably be annoyed with her at first, and they’d keep their distance on purpose. people like tana zapped the energy out of people like eren, faster than lute’s ability to cast lightning onto the enemy. but as two fliers on the same side, the chances of them working together would be really, really high. they’d probably be “only soldiers,” making sure to call out for things to keep the other safe. after battles, they’d give their “thanks” and as sociable as tana is, she would probably make some attempt to talk to eren.

eren, of course, does not like talking to people, and especially not people with a ton of energy. but tana’s patient and understanding, because she’s met people like eren before. she’s the princess of frelia for crying out loud! the chances of meeting reserved people isn’t that low. eren’s stubborn, but tana’s resilient.

now, they’re best friends!

innes: eren… didn’t hate innes’ guts, but wasn’t super appreciative of the dude either. he was so stuck up, and eren does not take kindly to people that are stuck up (eren sure hates a lot of people). but the man’s a genius when it comes to battle strategies, and they can’t deny they’re almost envious of how his plans can flow so smoothly. the two would probably argue over what’s the best for the army during certain situations, and ideas would definitely clash.

but they’re also really similar in the sense that they move independently. they want to show that they’re capable of holding their own ground, that they’re strong enough to do that. eren would probably figure that out and would watch out for innes during or after battles, and innes would respect eren’s ability to improvise on the battlefield when things went down south. they still clash, but they mean well.

cormag: two brooos, chilling on their wyveeerns, five feet apart because they mutually respect each other’s strengths as wyvern rideeers.

myrrh: daughter. dragon daughter. eren would take on a role similar to a parent when it came to myrrh, but like… an awkward parent. myrrh would probably follow her around every now and then, because eren’s guard is put down around myrrh. she’s not intimidating or trying to push people away, but accepts myrrh around because… eren can’t say no to myrrh.

eren: do you… want something sweet?myrrh: oh. if it’s okay.

there’s nothing super in depth, but if i elaborated on the relationships further, i can definitely see eirika, tana, innes, and myrrh being extremely good friends with eren just because of how the dynamics could work.

[cantusemyfuckingdickanymore]

Chapter 1 - Steam and Static

2,800 words (I can’t promise every chapter will be this long ghhck), nothing much to warn of here

this is part of my Elemental AU which I’m going to attempt to write a multi-chaptered fic for

hope ya enjoy, I’ll probably throw this up on Ao3 too

The earth heaved and shuddered, splitting and billowing great clouds of heated gas into the starless, overcast sky. For any man of flesh, that volcanic heat would be unbearable, but the entity observing the tumultuous rocky shore was no mere man.

Among the deepest clouds of the night his body was perched, thick threads of static jumping and weaving together, bound by solid atmosphere of a purple-blue colour. From this too his clothes were shaped, a dashing suit and top hat to compliment his striking, mustachioed face. The crackling figure emitted a light that caught the clouds, flickering as he peered down with eyes of pure white energy.

With god-like force, rocks were broken into rubble, thundering and groaning. Beneath it all, he could hear an unholy howl from the gaping wound of the earth. He shivered, electricity rippling through his body as it sounded again, growing louder as it split wider. It made the being somehow apprehensive, even knowing no mortal creature could possibly make such a sound.

Between plumes of smoke, a red glow started to rise from the depths, blazing brighter and brighter as the guttural roars became clear, even under the thundering of the earth.

And then it emerged, crawling from that hole like a demon from hell. Its whole body glowed a hot, molten red, vivid veins of unfathomable heat pulsating under its skin, through its body. Where one might expect hair, magma oozed and dripped lazily from its skull, face wrinkled and contorted with strain.

It kneeled on the surface, its eyes a pair of slits, huffing and panting breaths of smoke while gradually the earth grew still and quiet. When the steam and smoke cleared a little more, the electric entity drifted down cautiously to investigate. As it kneeled there and its breath evened, the veins cooled and subsided, its glow becoming subdued. It relaxed, and he started to think that its body reminded him less of a demon and more of a cherub, with its gentle curvature.

Its hair settled into place, and it raised its head. He saw no malice in those eyes as they observed each other.

“…That certainly was an impressive entrance.” The spectre remarked, hovering close. “Who are you?”

The volcanic man uttered a hoarse, choking sound, no words finding them. Whether it was because they could not speak or were not able to, the other could not tell.

“Well, if you need a p-p-place to stay, there’s one not far from here, if you want to follow me?” he offered.

The volcanic man groaned softly, rising to their feet, seeming to get the message.

The electric being was truly like a ghost, barely touching the ground as he moved weightlessly up the hill. His new companion wasn’t taking it as easily, exhausted and heavy, stumbling and dragging their weight while the ghost paused to let them catch up.

The even streets of Nickville were more forgiving, roads deserted and empty at this late hour. The ghost materialised a pair of disembodied hands to open the door to the building, letting the volcanic man inside. A single light crackled on in the back, as if on its own when they entered.

The static man led his guest into the back without a hitch, the least flammable place he could think to put them being the bathroom. They didn’t mind at least, too worn out to care, the volcanic man sunk to their knees and curled up on the floor.

“I’ll send someone for you tomorrow, you just rest here.” The spectre explained, unsure if he’d been heard as the stranger seemed to pass out right away.

He pulled the door so that there was no more than a crack open still, the room dark except for the dull glow from the warm red body on the floor. With one last admiring glance, the spectre crackled and sparked back into the night.

The volcanic man awoke to the sounds of murmuring voices and footsteps. The door swung open, and a boy stood there. He held a stack of neatly folded clothes. A human being, with the most vivid red hair one could imagine.

“Gilmore wanted me to uh, bring you these. You know, uh, lightning guy? He’s my dad.”

The boy set the clothes down in front of them and held out his gloved hand. “I’m Khonjin, by the by.”

The volcanic man took it, and hesitated. “Uh… I… I was…” he mumbled “…Gino. Gino… Fratelli.”

Khonjin scoffed, shaking the residual heat from his hand. “You read that off the sign, or is it a coincidence?”

Gino frowned, Khonjin shook his head. “Whatever. Get dressed and I’ll be waiting for you.”

It wasn’t a perfect fit. Gino had to roll up the cuffs of the clean black pants and found the shirt too loose in places and too tight in others, but it was something. Better still, he’d cooled down enough for them not to burn up. He could hear Khonjin talking to someone further in the back, but couldn’t help a peek into the restaurant-sized kitchen.

Everything felt strange in the light of day, it had the sort of clarity he only thought possible in dreams, more crisp and vivid than he’d known reality to be.

He found Khonjin again with that someone else. They were taller, adorning a chef’s outfit and hat. Contradictory to the natural skin tone of the chef’s hands, his whole head looked as if it had been carved from marble save for a weedy moustache and dark eyes that widened slightly at the sight of Gino. He then settled into an easy smile.

“Gino, this is, uh, we call him ‘Gay Spaghetti Chef’. Because, that is, in fact, what he is.” Khonjin introduced.

“It’s’a always nice to see a new face around.” The chef welcomed.

“ ‘Gay Spaghetti’ huh? Ya don’t think that’s just a little too… literal?” Gino cocked their head, to which the chef leaned in with a wide, sly smile.

“At’a least I didn’t go and name’a myself after the restaurant.” He spoke in a lower tone that caught Gino off guard, then he straightened and laughed pleasantly. “I’m’a just teasing you, Gino. You call’a yourself whatever you feel’a most comfortable with.”

Gino blinked. “Wait, what about the restaurant?”

Spag and Khonjin glanced at each other.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you go out the front for a sec, read the big sign above the counter and tell me what is says.” Khonjin told him.

A little bewildered, Gino made their way towards the front. Somehow the longer he stayed here, the more that dreamlike sense of déjà vu hung over them, as if they’d imagine this place before. It was almost dizzying by the time they got to the front counter.

“…Huh.” Gino noted, the two boys following behind him. “So this place… ya dad owns it?”

“Oh, yeah! I think uh, guy owed him some money or something a few years back, but they gave him this place instead. It’s been a base of operations for a bunch of stuff.” Khonjin explained.

Gino looked at him for a moment, undeniably flesh and blood, with glistening deep eyes.

“…You ain’t a whole lot like him.”

“Hm? Maybe not, I am adopted. Or, well as he says I was ‘given to him by God’ or something, which is crazy-lightning-man talk for ‘adopted’.”

Gino nodded uncertainly. “Right.”

Khonjin casually rocked back on his heels. “Mmmh since you’re already staying here, and this is a pizzeria… you know how to make a pizza?”

Gay Spaghetti and Khonjin watched the newcomer as he stood there, glaring down at the kitchen counter. He hadn’t moved for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Maybe… maybe he’a doesn’t really know how’a to make a pizza, maybe’a he’s embarrassed…?” the Spaghetti chef whispered to Khonjin. “If’a Gilmore’s right, he did just… come’a out of the earth… Why would he’a know what to do?”

“Give him a chance. What, you’re not scared that he’ll be better than you are you?” Khonjin joked quietly, to which Gay Spaghetti rolled his eyes.

“You’a know me, I make’a the best pizza around, I’a don’t get jealous.” He huffed.

Khonjin snorted sceptically but didn’t add anything else.

After another few seconds, Gino finally set to work. He made quick work of rummaging around the kitchen, through cupboards and shelves, acquiring what he needed. This wasn’t a man struggling to figure out what he was doing like it had seemed at first. Gino’s pace only sped up as he went through the steps, his audience watching in silent awe.

When he got to the dough, his hot hands filled the air with the scent of baking. He had to be quick to make sure the cheese wouldn’t stick to his fingers as they burned hotter and hotter. Once he’d finished his work, Gino stared at it for a moment.

“…I’m gonna try somethin’.” He announced. “You two stand back… no, further. That’s it, alright.”

Gino cleared his throat, rolled his neck and took a deep breath in. As he drew in breath, his skin burned brighter, the hot, glowing core in his belly seeping through his shirt.  When he breathed out again, a huge puff of smoky, volcanic air rushed out, obscuring himself and his work. Khonjin and Spag had to turn away as he continued, baking the pizza with the inhuman heat coming from deep inside him.

Gino coughed a few times after he was done, and once he was sure it was safe Spag carefully entered the kitchen again.

“W-wow. That’s’a not bad.” He commented.

“Ugh…Next time… I’m gonna use the oven.” Gino wheezed.

Gay Spaghetti delicately took a piece, trying not to burn his fingers and making sure it was cooked through.

“Is it all cleared up in there yet? How’s my pizza?” Khonjin called in from the doorway, stifling a few coughs himself.

“I’ll uh, bring it out for ya.” Gino called back, finding a box to carry his work in.

Meanwhile, Gay Spaghetti was taking his first, ginger bites. “Oh… Gino, this is good! This is’a fine’a pizza, you’a really gave it a very subtle, a’smoky flavour, very refined.”

“Heh, yeah? Glad ya think so…” a complimented smile crawled across his face, and the volcanic man seemed to glow that little bit brighter.

Khonjin was waiting impatiently outside, not wanting to get a lung full of smoke but not wanting to miss out.

Gino stepped outside proudly, with the box in his red hot hands. “Here ya go, one large--”

Before it promptly burst into flames.

“Shit.”

“MY PIZZA!” Khonjin screeched.

Once the flames had subsided, the box was a blackened husk. The solitary surviving slice had been lovingly consumed by the chef.

“I’m not doing that again.” Gino muttered bitterly.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

It was starting to get late at the pizzeria.

“I’a guess that’a the boss will want to hire you, nothing’a like a scary lava man to’a really spook his’a rivals off.” Gay Spaghetti mused. “He’ll be a’back when there’s enough’a static in the air for him to get comfortable.”

Gino examined the sky, there were some heavier clouds just rolling in. “Soon, then?”

Gay shrugged. In the calm of the late afternoon, as evening crept in, the chef too had become calm and quiet. Khonjin had returned to his father’s apartment for the day, and Gino had been occupying himself with looking around and cleaning the pizzeria. He wasn’t as productive as he would’ve liked to be, a lot of it was interspersed with long lengths of gazing out the window.

Gilmore was the sort of guy you couldn’t believe that you’d seen, the moment you stop looking at him. He had an ethereal quality that Gino hadn’t been able to appreciate that first night he’d met him. He felt anxious to see him again, anxious to see more of him.

Gay Spaghetti hadn’t been much for company without Khonjin in the picture, either. Gino wasn’t sure how to strike up a conversation, the chef didn’t hold interest in anything he had to say for very long. The energy had been sucked from the pizzeria, and time was dragging on.

Although he hadn’t said much, Gino couldn’t shake the feeling that the chef had been keeping an eye on him. Maybe that was no surprise, they weren’t quite used to each other yet.

Gino wasn’t even sure if he was used to himself. At his coolest state, his eyes and skin were still a faded red, almost like a sunburn, but perfectly even all over his body. It was like being covered in makeup, except he didn’t know what he expected otherwise. Still, his reflection startled him every time.

It was getting dark again when fat raindrops started to fall. The street lights came on outside, and as they flickered to life, something else flickered too.

Gilmore’s body was unaffected by the dimness of his surrounds, unaltered by whatever light and shade were cast over him, a solid, static image that wavered as raindrops passed over and through it. He stood there on the street.

Determined to talk with him as soon as possible, Gino made his way outside. The torrents of rain coming down over him hissed into steam.

“Ah, how nice to see you again…” Gilmore greeted. “…What was your name?”

“Gino, Gino Fratelli. I know, it’s the same as the pizzeria…”

“It must be destiny. I thought it was, on the night that I met you… It’s nice to hear your voice for the first time.” Gilmore admired, with surprising fondness.

As Gino stood there, dripped from him and disappeared back into the clouds of mist blowing off his skin. “I uh, was wondering what you… I dunno, wanted from me. Like, how can I pay ya back?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Gino. Feel free to stay at the p-pizzeria as long as you want. What I… believe, is that, is that we have a p…pur-… a reason for being here, for being the way we are. My reason was to find you, and others like you.” He said, his words like a cold wind between sheets of water. “I know you will find your reason too, Gino. Meanwhile, I need living souls like you to mind my worldly possessions while I drift… I’m afraid I can’t stay anywhere too long.”

“I’ll… take care of it then.” Gino accepted.

“Good. Khonjin too, if, if you could look out for him, I would be grateful.”

Gino nodded. “Okay, I’ll make sure I do.”

“Thank you…” he breathed.

The span of silence was filled with the sound of the storm, pouring over the streets around them. The two of them and the rain, engulfing everything in sight.

“Gino… I feel, comp, compelled to tell you something.” The gaze of Gilmore’s flickering form dropped to the ground. “On a night much like this one, I was running through the street. Some… mobsters from a rival gang were chasing me down, and this time I had no backup. I tried to escape them through a field, and that’s when it hap-happened.”

“A bolt of lightning struck me down, impossibly powerful enough to disintegrate my entire being. I became nothing but energy. I had no idea why, or how such a thing could have come to me, but I realised it was a second chance. I had been granted a different life, a new task.”

Gilmore looked up at him again. “Maybe you are a lost soul too, or maybe not, but I think this is imp-important. I don’t know if you believe in any sort of God, but I think that He needs us for something.”

Gino swallowed.

The shimmering man tilted his head back to examine the skies above them. “…I must be off. I enjoyed talking to you Gino. We’ll see what the future holds.” In a streak of light, he vanished back into the clouds, up and out.

The remaining man stared up at the clouds, swearing to himself that maybe that ripple of light could be his ghost, travelling through the blanketed atmosphere.

Any scrap of daylight left was now barely a whisper as Gino re-entered the building. He wasn’t nearly as wet as someone standing in the rain ought to have been, but his clothes had still managed to absorb a fair bit of water.

Gay Spaghetti was waiting for him at the counter. “I’a wouldn’t get too worried about’a what Gilmore says, he’s’a always got’a his head in the clouds, not’a just in the literal way.” He sighed. “I’a don’t know if he was’a worse when he was alive or’a… afterwards.”

“Yeah, the guy’s pretty fuckin’… intense, I’ll give him that.” Gino admitted.

“What about you then, Gino?” Spag asked.

“What about me?” he echoed.

“What’s’a your story? Where did’a you come from? How… how long’a were you trapped under the earth?”

His brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.”

“Gino Fratelli… who are you?”

“I wish I knew.”

[sylvasthesnowfox]

2. treasure

There is a door.

The spiders barely remember what a door is. They barely remember anything. They've been running for years. Falling. Tumbling. Screaming silently, voiceless. Calling a name. They don't remember why.

The door opens up to a walkway of black metal hovering over an infinite abyss. The spiders huddle towards the middle, avoiding the edge. There is an octagonal shaft, plunging not only to an unknowable depth but also reaching to an unknowable height. Each wall twinkles with strange blinking lights in many colors, and if one were to look very close they would see many small digital displays, as well. Hanging over those walls, however, are many strange ornaments. Tapestries. Paintings, some of hazy indistinct people, some of colorful fuzzy landscapes, some of cities or buildings too bunched together to easily decipher. A walkway bridges the shaft's diameter, and at the other end there is a chair. A woman sits in it. She's familiar.

Blinding light strikes out in a ring around the shaft; eight screens, each stretching across the width of each side of the octagonal shaft walls, blaze into static and a distorted cacophony floods the passage. The spiders scurry over one another in a chaotic non-movement, their feet vainly screaming against the sudden stimulation, but the noise is gone just as fast as it came. In its place are words. Replicated across every screen, in tall, calligraphic script, the exact same message:

IS THIS THE ONE?

"Yes," says the woman in the chair. "Phobos, say hello."

The spiders recall that this is their name. A few of them move in timid response. Hello? The screens flicker, and show a new message:

I LOVE IT. ITS NAME IS PHOBOS?

"Yes."

PHOBOS. I AM APLISTIA. HELLO!

Hello, skitters Phobos. What is this? What is happening?

IT'S IN A BAD WAY. YOU WERE NOT EXAGGERATING.

"I saw little of its manifestation," the woman says thoughtfully, reclining in her chair. "But it was terribly dark and cramped. Featureless. We will have much to teach it."

THAT IS GOOD! I LIKE TO SHARE KNOWLEDGE. PHOBOS, DO YOU LIKE TO LEARN NEW THINGS?

"Its name is Phobos," the woman drawled, smiling. "What do you think?" Phobos did not know why, but that bothered it.

I do, they skitter impatiently.

THAT IS GOOD! I HAVE FOUND YOMI TO BE A PESSIMIST SO YOU MAY DISREGARD HER.

"That's not very nice," the woman, Yomi, coolly answers. "But, I suppose I deserve it. You surprise me, Phobos."

I missed you, Phobos replies, shying away from the chair. Even though I was afraid, I like to see new things and I liked talking to you.

THAT IS GOOD. THERE ARE A GREAT MANY THINGS YOU MAY YET NEED TO LEARN.

I'm happy you are willing to teach me, Phobos offers. Could you maybe explain where we are?

"The caves are Phobos," Yomi says. "The silver lake is Yomi. This is Aplistia."

IT IS MY GRAND TREASURY! DO YOU LIKE IT? IT'S TERRIBLY CLUTTERED. I'M SORRY, MY HOSTING SKILLS ARE SOMEWHAT LACKING. I HAVE BEEN SCATTERBRAINED LATELY.

It's very nice, Phobos hastily concedes. But where are - you?

I AM THIS PLACE. PERHAPS WE SHOULD VISIT YOU, YOMI? THAT MAY BE EASIER TO UNDERSTAND.

"No good," Yomi says. "I'm too close to the boundary. You'd materialize, rather than manifesting, and that might be a little traumatic."

HOW DID PHOBOS VISIT YOU IF YOU ARE -- There were more words, but they flicker away before Phobos can read them all. OH! SHE MUST HAVE HAD A VERY TAME MATERIALIZATION. I SEE WHY YOU ARE SO ATTACHED.

"Yes," Yomi coos, "Phobos is very special, among outsiders."

Outsiders? Phobos skitters hesitantly, with clear concern. What is an outsider?

WE ARE BOTH OUTSIDERS.

I don't understand. What are we outside of?

EXISTENCE.

The monitors blaze with light, before showing a clearer picture of one of the landscapes Phobos could see painted below the walkway. They pan in a circle, showing a valley bordered by high, craggy mountains and beautiful emerald forests. Phobos sees small creatures scurrying through the trees as the view advances through them. Sounds echo through the chamber, sounds of crunching pine needles underfoot and birds chirping and a gentle wind brushing through the trees, though Phobos cannot place any of these sounds accurately; all they understand is that the sight, and the sound, are very beautiful, and familiar in a way that makes them terribly sad.

Where is that? Phobos asks, when the screens turn dark again.

WHERE IS A DIFFICULT QUESTION TO ANSWER, Aplistia replies. SUCH AN ANSWER WOULD REQUIRE A RELATIVE NOTION OF WHERE WE ARE, AND THERE ISN'T ONE.

What...? What are you talking about? We are in Aplistia, aren't we? How far away is Aplistia from that place you showed me?

NO, NO, NO. THAT'S NOT QUITE RIGHT. APLISTIA IS NOT A PLACE. PHOBOS IS NOT A PLACE, EITHER. A PLACE CANNOT VISIT ANOTHER PLACE, AS YOU ARE PLAINLY DOING NOW.

B-But - I thought - The spiders jump and prance and stop, bewildered, struggling to form patterns. The screens flicker again.

YOMI. TAKE US TO PHOBOS.

"That's a bold request," Yomi says incredulously.

I WON'T TOLERATE YOUR INANE TSUNDERE NONSENSE. YOU WANT TO SEE PHOBOS, TOO. YOU KNOW HOW TO GET THERE. I DO NOT.

Yomi's eyes narrow. "Where did you learn that word?"

INCONSEQUENTIAL AND DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT.

Um? The spiders shift, but they are too soft to be heard. Do I need to... do anything to host you, or...

"Fine, but don't complain to me if it winds up very cramped." Yomi turns to Phobos, smiling. Phobos attempts to repeat themselves, but Yomi does not notice. "Phobos, can you describe to us your caves?"

Well, the spiders begin, but after that there is no shaft, there is no chair, and there is no light. After that there is only darkness.

But then there is light -- !

Phobos realizes they are back in the twisting caves, and standing at the floor of one of the turns is Yomi, who holds in her hand a small device with a brilliant screen. Even though it is far away Phobos somehow understands the words that are appearing on it.

I AM VERY SMALL.

"Everything is small here," Yomi laughs. Her voice echoes so loud and so long that Phobos freezes in fright. But eventually it calms, and there is no sound of collapse to match it. They note that this is a strange sensation, to simply stand still in the caves, rather than running through them constantly. It isn't comfortable.

You are visiting us now! Phobos chitters, with delight despite their fear. Do you like our cave? Yomi called it dreary but I think it's nice and safe.

IT IS SAFE, Aplistia agrees. BUT THERE IS SO VERY LITTLE HERE. YOMI IS RIGHT, IT'S NO WONDER YOU'VE FORGOTTEN SO MUCH. THIS CANNOT STAND. I MUST CHANGE THIS.

"Don't push your luck," Yomi says warningly.

It's okay, adds Phobos hastily, I am happy here, the way things are!

PERHAPS SO, BUT IF YOU WISH TO VISIT APLISTIA AGAIN, I COULD MAKE THAT EASIER. WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?

Oh... I... Phobos doesn't know how to respond. I would like that very much, but I don't know how you would do it.

"You're going to tie yourself to it?" Yomi says, incredulous now. "You've known it for minutes."

OR SECONDS, OR YEARS, OR AEONS. YOU HAVE NO PROOF.

"Seeing as I am a mortal thing bound to a universe," Yomi retorts, "I have an excellent and reliable sense of time, thank you very much."

NEVER MIND YOU, PESSIMIST. PHOBOS! IMAGINE A SCREEN.

I am seeing a screen now, Phobos answers blankly.

YES YOU ARE. IMAGINE ANOTHER ONE.

Okay. Phobos does not imagine, because they don't really know how, or what that means.

IMAGINE THAT IT IS AS LARGE OR AS SMALL AS YOU LIKE. IMAGINE THAT IT RESTS COMFORTABLY WITHIN THE ROCK WALL IN A PLACE THAT YOU FEEL SAFE ACCESSING IT. IT GIVES OFF LIGHT ENOUGH THAT YOU CAN SEE IT AT A DISTANCE, BUT NOT ENOUGH THAT IT IS PAINFUL TO LOOK AT. WHEN YOU APPROACH IT, IT GREETS YOU IN MY VOICE.

But there is no such screen, Phobos says, now worried for letting their new friend down.

THERE WILL BE, IF YOU IMAGINE IT. IMAGINE IT NOW.

Phobos imagines it. They imagine that there is an indent in the rock wall that leads to a hidden alcove behind, small enough only for a few spiders to fit through. They imagine that when spiders enter, the screen alights, and Aplistia cheerily says:

WELL DONE! YOU HAVE A LOVELY IMAGINATION.

And then there is no darkness, there are no rocks, and they have returned to the shaft! Phobos jumps all together in fright. How are we back here?!

I MADE IT EASIER FOR YOU TO VISIT! YOU MAY NOW USE THIS TACTIC TO VISIT ME WHENEVER YOU WISH.

"That was very bold of you," Yomi says lowly. She is sitting in her chair, and her arms are folded. Phobos realizes that seeing Yomi in the caves was the first time they have seen her standing. "But I suppose it is easy to trust Phobos, isn't it?"

PHOBOS.

Yes? Phobos squeezes in tighter, a ball of spiders on a metal catwalk above nothing.

I LIKE YOU VERY MUCH. WOULD YOU ALLOW ME TO MAKE YOU MY TREASURE?

W-what?! The spiders jump again, scrambling through and over one another in panic. What do you mean by treasure?! Are you going to trap me here?!

ABSOLUTELY NOT. AS MY TREASURE YOU WOULD BE ONE OF MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSIONS. WHEN ONE CARES FOR SOMETHING, THEY MUST TREAT IT WITH RESPECT AND ENSURE IT IS SAFE AND HEALTHY. FOR YOU THAT WILL MEAN TIME IN YOUR CAVES AND IT WILL ALSO MEAN ENSURING YOU DO NOT GET LOST IN THEM AND FORGET YOURSELF. IT WILL PROBABLY EVEN MEAN SHOWING YOU MANY NEW THINGS WHEN YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH THEM.

Phobos does recall that they forgot their own name, and even who or what Yomi was, after trying to find her for so long. They recall that it wasn't very fun losing all the memories they made during Yomi's short visit.

I would really appreciate if you would do that, Phobos admits.

THEN YOU WILL ALLOW ME TO CARE FOR YOU AS MY TREASURE?

Yes, Phobos says, and as they say it they are filled with warmth and happiness, and they say it again and again, delighted by the feeling. I don't know why, but I would love to be cared for!

IT HAS BEEN VERY LONELY, HASN'T IT? Phobos thinks at first they are being talked to, but realizes suddenly that they are being talked about, as Yomi nods thoughtfully.

"Treat it well," Yomi says softly. "It will need to build confidence if we are to succeed."

ABOUT WELL-TREATMENT. PHOBOS, IT WILL NOT DO FOR US TO CONTINUE CALLING YOU 'IT'. ARE YOU A BOY OR A GIRL? OR SOMETHING IN BETWEEN?

Phobos has never considered this, and barely even understands what it means, and yet somehow feels an answer terribly clearly in their heart. I am a girl.

WONDERFUL! SO AM I! THEN I WILL REFER TO YOU AS FEMALE FROM NOW ON.

"How did it - " Yomi coughs. "How did she know so quickly?"

PERHAPS SHE IS CUMULATIVE RATHER THAN FORMATIVE. BUT RIGHT NOW, IT DOESN'T MATTER! LET US CELEBRATE PHOBOS' IDENTITY INSTEAD. I AM GOING TO SHOW HER WHAT GIRLS LOOK LIKE!

"You're doing it again," Yomi adds grumpily. "Where you act like you know things you absolutely shouldn't."

AND YOU'RE BEING PESSIMISTIC AGAIN. WILL YOU BE STAYING FOR THE GIRL PARTY?

"No, I must wake again." Yomi stands, and bows to Phobos. "We'll see each other again soon. Aplistia and I are working towards a goal together. Maybe if she stops playing with you, she'll explain to you what I mean."

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PERSONAL CARE, Aplistia responds, and Phobos feels happy and playful for some reason, maybe because she feels like Aplistia also feels that way. DO NOT TRIVIALIZE IT BY CALLING IT PLAYING. PHOBOS NEEDS TO BE HAPPY AND I WON'T ALLOW YOU TO DISRESPECT THAT.

"You're very fond of her, aren't you?" Yomi smiles wryly. The shadows in the room close in around her and she evaporates in their wake, just like before. Phobos is unsettled, but only for a moment.

Show me what a girl is, Phobos says happily, returning her attention to the monitors. The walls are covered in spiders now. They can feel the humming of strange machinery beneath them. It's comforting, and they can somehow tell that Aplistia doesn't mind their presence at all.

YOU AREN'T AFRAID? Aplistia asks.

With you here, no. I feel very safe.

THAT IS GOOD. The machinery hums more loudly, and the shaft grows faintly, comfortably warm. Phobos relaxes in its wake. YOU ARE A TREASURE SECURE IN MY VAULT, Aplistia says happily. THERE IS NOWHERE YOU SHOULD FEEL SAFER. NOW! ALLOW ME TO SHOW YOU WHAT I RECALL OF 'EXISTENCE'!