#lower is so rpg AU in general the more I think about it

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Thinking

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Sunshower

Author: @credens-justitiam

For: @redakara

Pairings/Characters: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Kazuichi Souda

Rating/Warnings: General, no warnings apply

Prompt: Fantasy/rpg au

Author’s notes: none!

You can also read it directly on Ao3

The cobblestone streets that surrounded the potion shop were paved with smooth gray stones that grew warm with the light of the morning sun. Small gusts of wind pulled at Nagito’s hair and whipped it around this way and that. He tightened his grip on the crates of ingredients he held in his arms, not wanting to drop them.

I should’ve brought the cart with me, he thought to himself as the fabric covering of the ingredients flapped in the wind, which sometimes obscured his vision. Though it was a rickety old thing, it would have at least freed one of his hands and left his sight clear. Regardless, his shop was just around the corner, so all he had to do was take a few more steps without falling—

“Hey!”

Crash!

One moment Nagito was rounding the corner on both feet, the next he was on his rear on the hard cobblestone. His hands stung from where the wooden crates scraped against them. He was about to worry whether he had splinters when he realized the precious ingredients he was carrying were no longer in his hands.

Precious, and highly volatile ingredients that should be kept separate and not spilled all over the streets. Nagito watched in horror as a greenish liquid trickled towards some bright yellow powder. He extended a hand towards it helplessly. “No—!”

Instantly the mixture exploded in a multicolor flash of light and heat. Nagito barely shielded his face in time as the blast singed the tips of his hair. He blinked away the spots in his vision and surveyed the last remaining wisps of white smoke with a small expression of defeat. He was supposed to use those ingredients (separately) for today’s orders…

But he didn’t have the time to lament over the waste when a gruff voice asked, “woah, are you okay?”

Nagito looked up to see a hand extended in front of him. Without thinking, he took it, biting back a hiss as he stood; a stinging pain came the cuts on his hands and a throbbing pain from his backside. When he was pulled to his feet, the sight of sharp-looking hazel eyes and even sharper looking brown hair stilled his tongue.

The features in question belonged to a young man around his age and of similar height, though judging from the strong grip exuded by his hands, Nagito was inclined to think he was decently stronger than himself. He had a white shirt, light brown pants, and a large bag slung around his shoulder. Though he dressed on the plainer side, Nagito found his disposition to be rather charming.

The stranger spoke again. “Hey, I asked you a question. Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.”

“Oh, I, um—” Nagito stammered, realizing he was staring for much longer than appropriate. Out of all the inopportune moments to be tongue-tied, he had to do so in front of this good-looking stranger. He laughed his nervousness off (why was he nervous all the sudden?) with a wave of his hand.

“I’m right as rain, honestly, no need to worry about me! I’m more concerned about the stuff I dropped.”

“Right, sorry about that.” The stranger rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to run into you.”

Nagito pressed his lips into a smile. “Like I said, no worries. I’m just going to, um, gather this stuff up now.”

He knelt on shaky legs—another product of his sudden, strange nervousness— gingerly surveying what was spilled. To his surprise, the stranger lowered himself to the ground as well.

“It’s the least I can do,” the stranger cut in, right as Nagito opened his mouth to protest. Had it been anyone else, Nagito still would’ve protested, but the stranger just had this steady presence that dried whatever words he had in his throat.

Thus the two of them gathered up the ingredients in silence. Nagito ached to say something more, but for some reason his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him. But that should’ve been fine, right? Because cleaning things up wasn’t a task that required conversation. The stranger would help him for a few more minutes then be on his merry way. Still, a voice whispered in the back of his brain telling him to make conversation, growing more urgent as the silence stretched between them more and more.

When Nagito couldn’t bear it anymore, he went, “so—”

“Say, I was—” the stranger began at the same time. “What?”

“Huh?” Nagito blinked. “Oh, sorry, you—you go first.”

“I was wondering what these ingredients were. They looked kind of dangerous,” the stranger remarked. “Since they exploded and everything.”

“Dangerous?” Nagito let out a surprised chuckle. “Oh, well, I see why you’d think that way. But separately they’re useful in brewing potions.”

“Brewing potions?” the stranger echoed. “Then, are you Komaeda Nagito? The witch at the end of Hemlock Way?”

Nagito had no idea he had such a title, but nonetheless he nodded. “That’d be me,” he said. “Were you looking for my shop?”

The stranger nodded. He patted a large messenger bag against his side. “Yeah. I’m a courier, actually. I’m here to pick up and drop off some commissions for you.”

“Ah, what a coincidence.”  Nagito laughed a bit. “Our paths were destined to cross, but then something like this happened so we met just a few minutes before we were fated to.”

The courier’s mouth quirked up in a rather wry way. “Yeah…? I’m not a huge believer in fate but I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Something about the courier’s reply made Nagito wonder if he said something weird, but he pushed worry aside for the time being. Now that he gathered all his ingredients and had a courier standing in front of him with commissions in hand, he had to get down to business. He dusted himself off, braced himself and picked up the crates. He tilted his head towards the stairs that led to the potion shop.

“My shop’s just up these stairs. Follow me.”

As Nagito was taking his first step, the courier stopped him. “Uh, are you sure you want to go up the stairs holding all those crates? I could carry some of that.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. You helped me gather up my mess, and you’re already carrying that messenger bag of yours,” Nagito started, but suddenly the weight in his arms became a lot lighter. “Wait, what are you—”

Despite Nagito’s protests, the courier took several crates into his arms (more than half of the items, Nagito realized). “It’s the least I can do. It’d be too troublesome if you dropped these again, right?”

Nagito looked at him strangely. A bunch of different feelings swirled around in him, like reactants mixed together in a cauldron: confusion featured the most prominently, followed by gratitude and curiosity. Who was this courier, and why was he helping Nagito so much? He couldn’t remember the last time a stranger interacted with him this extensively.

“‘It’s the least I can do…’ You said that already,” he murmured absently.

The courier turned and stopped just a few steps away from the shop. “What?”

Nagito grew embarrassed; he let his thoughts spill out into the open again. He stammered out, “a-ah, nothing, just talking to myself.” Quickly, in order to divert attention away from his ramblings, he shoved a hand into his apron pocket. “We’re here, let me get my keys.”

Fishing his keys out, he stepped around the courier and stuck the right key into the lock. The bell above the door jingled cheerfully as the courier held it open with his body. “After you.”

The courier gave him a gruff “thanks” and went inside. He set the crates down upon the counter next to the potted plants, then unfastened his messenger bag. He pulled out several leaves of paper and passed them across the counter. “So, here are the new commissions I was talking about.”

“Okay,” Nagito said.

“As for the previous orders, do you have ready the bottle of sleeping elixir, the eau du ciel, and a nightshade draught?”

Nagito nodded eagerly. He stooped beneath the counter and pulled out three separate bottles wrapped in paper, tied off and tagged with the insignia of his shop. “Yes, right here.”

“Alright, I’ll be taking these then.” The courier stowed them away in his bag, then gave Nagito a polite nod. “Have a good day.”

For some reason, seeing the courier’s broad back turn and leave set Nagito’s nerves alight. As he turned and began to exit, Nagito called out to the courier. “Ah, wait a second!”

The courier turned and gave him a look, one foot already outside the door. “What? I’m in a hurry,” he said, with a note of mild irritation in his voice.

Nagito swallowed; when the courier looked at him like that, he felt he could see into his very soul. But that was ridiculous, no kind of magic existed for that to happen. It was just as ridiculous as the feelings that suddenly welled up within him and made him loathe the idea of seeing the courier leave his shop.

Nagito asked, “will I be seeing you again?”

“…Yes?” came the courier’s reply. “I have to give you payment for your commissions and pick up the new orders.”

Nagito laughed airily, feeling embarrassed. That was a stupid question. Of course the courier would be here again to do his job. Still, he tried to save face, even though there was no doubt in his mind that the courier saw him as a fool now.

“Oh, right. I was just wondering because I’ve never seen you do the deliveries before. You wouldn’t happen to know Souda-kun, would you?”

Souda was the name of the courier who had been doing deliveries in the area and often came to Nagito’s shop to do business there. Nagito considered him a friend, though they never went past being acquaintances outside of work.

At the mention of Souda’s name, the courier barked out a single dry laugh. “Yeah, that’s my coworker. He’s focusing on completing his apprenticeship now, so I’m stepping in for him.”

“Ah, yes, he did mention that. He always did have a talent for artillery. An admirable field, indeed.” Nagito hummed, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Well, if you see him, say hello to him for me.”

“Sure.” A beat of silence passed, with the courier’s foot still hanging out the door. Suddenly it was as if the world slowed to a halt, with Nagito wanting the conversation to continue but knowing that he would just be wasting the courier’s time if he tried. The look on the courier’s face told him as such. He was lingering in the door, as if waiting to be dismissed, with an odd expression.

A while passed, with Nagito still saying nothing. He wasn’t the most savvy of people, but even Nagito knew that this situation was the awkwardest encounter he ever had in his shop. Maybe this was fate’s way of punishing him for meeting the courier before he was supposed to.

Finally the courier went, “I’m going now.”

Then he turned and did just that. Nagito peered through the curtains of his shop’s window and watched the courier’s retreating form as he made his way down the cobblestone streets. Just as Nagito was about to return to his business, the courier turned around and looked at him, making full eye contact as he did so. Even from a distance Nagito could feel his piercing stare.

“Oh!” he said to no one (he was alone in his shop, after all). Flustered at having been caught, Nagito quickly drew the curtains closed. But then he felt the slightest bit guilty for closing the curtains on the courier—wasn’t that rude, shutting him out like that after Nagito stared so shamelessly after him? Nagito parted the curtains once more to look out onto the street.

He peered curiously outward, searching for the courier again. In the split second that he drew the curtains closed, however, the courier had vanished. And that was a given, of course; he said he had other business to attend to. How presumptuous of Nagito to assume he’d dawdle more than necessary.

Nagito laughed airily to himself. He had been exceptionally rude today: bumping into him, making him carry his ingredients, and keeping him with pointless conversation for longer than was proper. To top it all off—

“I didn’t even ask for his name.”

<br>

The next time Nagito met the courier, Nagito was leaving the shop to go to Evershift Forest to forage for more ingredients (he had to replenish some of the stuff he dropped so clumsily the other day, after all). The courier was coming up the steps just as Nagito was about to lock up his shop.

Nagito waved. “Good morning! Are you here to pick up the new orders?”

The courier nodded. He was dressed in the same clothes as last time. “Yeah, and to bring you your payment. But it looks like you’re heading out right now?”

Nagito chuckled. “I realized I ran out of some ingredients so I need to go forage for some more. I’d go to the marketplace but it’s closed today, so I’m heading to the forest.”

Then, because apparently he hadn’t learned his lesson last time, his mouth moved before he could think. “Why don’t you come along with me? It won’t take long.”

“What? Go with you?” the courier asked. “Can’t I just take the finished orders and go?”

Nagito chuckled again, more sheepishly this time. “Ah, unfortunately the orders aren’t finished. They still need their finishing touches before they’re ready, and I ran out of those ingredients earlier than I thought I would.”

“Are you talking about when I ran into you?” the courier asked, hitting the nail right on the head.

Well, it was because of that, but it was still Nagito’s fault for walking in such a busy place with his vision half-obscured. So Nagito just laughed it off, because that’s what he always did. “Ah, don’t worry about that.”

Perhaps that was the wrong answer, because the courier’s brows furrowed in intense thought. Sensing exasperation from him, Nagito quickly went, “but I promise it won’t take long, just twenty minutes at the most. Evershift is a tricky place, but I’m pretty good at finding what I need there. So can I ask you to stay here while I go?”

The courier snorted. “Before you were asking if I wanted to come with you. Now you want me to stay here and wait. Which is it?”

“Oh, well,” Nagito floundered. Even though Nagito was sure he was frustrated at having to wait, the courier’s tone was level and the look in his eyes was not unkind. If anything, it was understanding. And that’s what Nagito didn’t understand. Despite everything that had happened, despite his clumsiness and his delay, the courier was being remarkably patient with him. Nagito sincerely hoped that he wasn’t making the courier lose business.

“How about you come with me? You have to wait for me to finish anyways, and the forest is a prettier place to wait at than the shop.”

Amazingly, the courier nodded. “Sure. But the shop itself doesn’t look bad.”

Nagito followed the courier’s line of sight towards the planter underneath the windowsill, the same window that Nagito had unceremoniously drawn the curtains closed on several days ago. Small green plants had sprouted there, and though they were growing healthily from being treated with Nagito’s homebrewed fertilizer, they still weren’t ready to be harvested for about another month.

“Your plants are pretty nice. Do you take care of them yourself?”

“Ah, thank you. Yes, those are some herbs I planted a week ago,” Nagito replied, flattered. Few people had ever said anything so nice about his shop. He took this as a sign that the courier wanted to stay in the shop.

“If you’re interested in looking around my shop more, I’d be happy to leave you a key. Though I’ll ask that you don’t touch anything; some of the stuff can be very dangerous if handled incorrectly. You saw what happened a few days ago.”

Nagito didn’t mean it that way, but it sounded like he was insinuating that the courier would mess things up in his shop if left unattended. Having realized what he was implying, Nagito raised an apologetic hand and began to backtrack.

“Not that I think you’d be as clumsy as I am and drop everything. I’m just saying this as a precaution.”

The courier looked at him strangely, head tilted to the side and lips parted like he was struggling to find the right words to scold him with. Nagito was getting rather accustomed to the look; he must have said something wrong again. It was different from how Souda treated him—Souda was usually much faster to call him out on his weirdness. Not that Nagito ever thought Souda was wrong for doing so, but he appreciated that this courier was much more courteous to Nagito than probably he deserved.

He said, “you’d leave me a key? You’re saying you’re taking a precaution, but I don’t know how giving a stranger a key is cautious.”

“I suppose it isn’t, though you seem like a trustworthy person,” Nagito said, smiling lightly. “But you don’t want to waste your time with someone like me, then I’d be happy to let you stay here.”

The courier shook his head. “No thanks, I already agreed to go with you.”

Then, he gestured towards the forest with a pointed look. Despite being the one accepting Nagito’s invitation to follow him into the forest, the courier began walking down the stairs first.

“Come on, weren’t you the one who said it wouldn’t take long?

Nagito nodded and quickly followed after him. “Ah, right.”

<hr>

The cobblestone road ended just a few paces from Nagito’s shop. As they walked onto the dirt path that led into Evershift Forest, the courier spoke. “What are you looking for?”

“I have a few things in mind that I need, like aurum leaves, though I’ll pick up anything we come across if it seems useful,” Nagito answered.

Doubt filled the courier’s features. “You… sound like you’re not sure of what you’re getting.”

“Well, I can’t be. Haven’t you been to Evershift Forest before? It’s one this area’s top places to visit, along with the marketplace.”

When the courier shook his head, Nagito began to explain.

“Evershift Forest earned its namesake for being an ever-shifting place. At random intervals the inner parts of the forest would shimmer like a mirage. People who explored between the gaps of the trees might find themselves in the middle of a lake or near the maws of a beast if they happened to walk into a section that changed in this way. So there’s no telling what we’ll find while we’re here.”

The forest’s fluid nature made it simultaneously a good source to find ingredients as well as an unreliable one, as one could find an abundance of their needed ingredient one time but not find it again for hours or even weeks. However unpredictable the forest was, the rare flora and fauna that could be found within the forest’s confines drew magic users and thrillseekers alike. Nagito was solidly in the former camp, as he didn’t favor having to run away from the forest creatures.

“There’s supposed to be a pattern we can follow in order to find the exit. I’m usually pretty good at finding them, but sometimes you have to wander for a few hours in order to get out.”

The courier looked pale from Nagito’s explanation. “Hours? So you’re just relying on luck to find what you need?”

“More or less,” Nagito admitted. “It might sound tedious, but it’s a remarkable opportunity for me to get potent ingredients I wouldn’t think to look for otherwise.”

His answer visibly frustrated the courier. “What happened to just needing twenty minutes? Forget it, I’m gonna head back and do some other orders first while you figure this out.”

He turned around to where they came and squawked. Nagito looked over his shoulder to see that the forest’s path had already changed; no longer could he see the entrance to the forest. Though he felt bad for laughing at the courier’s shock, he couldn’t help a few breathy giggles from leaving his mouth.

“Sorry for not telling you this earlier, I thought you already knew. Are you not from this area?”

The courier shook his head. “No, that’s why I wasn’t assigned to work here before. I never knew a place like this existed.”

“Oh, well now you do!” Nagito said cheerily. “But like I said before, I’m pretty good at navigating through here. I meant it when I said we shouldn’t be here for longer than twenty minutes.”

“Okay…” The courier looked hardly convinced. “Well, whether you’re right or not, I guess we should stick together for the time being.”

Nagito felt worry prickle up his spine. Perhaps inviting the courier here was the wrong move; he must’ve made a bad impression on him if he thought Nagito would go off without him. “Of course, I’d never abandon you here.”

After he said that, they walked in silence for a bit. Normally Nagito was fine with not talking for a bit, but something about the courier made him run his mouth. Besides, while they were here, there were a few things Nagito could get off his chest.

So he started conversationally, “by the way, I never got your name.”

“Mine? I’m Hinata Hajime.” He walked in tandem with Nagito, matching his stride. “I’m late in saying this, but uh, nice meeting you. Hope we can work well together, once we get out of here.”

“Hinata-kun.” The way his name felt in his mouth was almost familiar, though it’s not as if they met before. “Well, you know my name already, but it’s only proper that I introduce myself too. I’m Komaeda Nagito. It’s been a pleasure being with you.”

“Yeah.” Hinata nodded. To Nagito’s delight, he continued the conversation further. “What got you into potion making? The people I’ve spoken to around here refer to you as the witch at the end of Hemlock Way, so it sounds like you’re pretty good at it.”

“That’s a bit embarrassing. I didn’t even know people called me that.” Nagito gave a small laugh. “My innate magic isn’t anything special, but I specialized in potion-making in school. It was the one thing I was good at, and after my parents died, I decided to continue it and opened my own shop with my inheritance.”

As Nagito recounted his experiences, Hinata grew quiet. “Oh. Damn. Sorry to make you talk about your parents. I know that my words right now don’t really mean anything, but…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Nagito reassured him. “In fact, I’m glad you cared enough to ask, Hinata-kun.”

Another funny look flitted across Hinata’s face, but before Nagito could comment upon it, the forest around them shimmered. Not wanting to be separated by the changes, Nagito grabbed onto Hinata’s shoulder.

“Careful, pay attention to our surroundings,” he warned. But just as he gave Hinata that warning, Nagito couldn’t help but feel distracted by the way Hinata’s shoulder filled his hand. His shoulder was broad and felt sturdy in his grip. It was rather unexpected; perhaps Hinata was the type of person to look slimmer when dressed. He was also warm despite being in the shade and only wearing short sleeves. By contrast, Nagito had an apron layered over his long-sleeved shirt, yet he was always cold.

As quickly as the forest began to shift, it stopped, and Nagito found them standing in a bright patch of sunlight. Nagito blinked at the sudden influx of light, temporarily blinded. For a few moments, the only thing he could perceive was the sound of birdsong—that’s how Nagito knew the forest had changed for sure, as he didn’t hear any birds before. When his eyes finally adjusted, he took stock of their surroundings.

Above them, the trees’ branches parted in a small circle, where the morning sunlight streamed onto them from above. A ring of bushes surrounded them, bearing all sorts of fruits. Small butterflies of every color flitted from flower to flower. Some of the flowers towered over them, bright yellow and reaching towards the sky. From the corner of his eye, Nagito spotted the source of the birdsong: a few birds with rainbow wings and glimmering eyes were perched in the branches, singing to each other.

As beautiful as everything was, Nagito figured he should probably check to see if Hinata was holding up okay from the sudden changes. Nagito knew from experience that Evershift Forest was a disorienting place to be in, especially the first few times it shifted. So Nagito turned his head and looked.

But when he did, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The way the light poured onto Hinata was indescribable: the sunlight turned his normally brown hair into golden spires, while his hazel eyes glowed almost supernaturally. The shadows the light made on his jawline stood out starkly from the collar of his white shirt. His skin shone in the light. Idly, Nagito wondered if Hinata often spent time in the sun, considering that he was tanner than himself.

Nagito also wondered if he’d get to see Hinata in the sun like this more often. Because Hinata was, in a word, beautiful. The likes of which Nagito has never seen before.

As if picking up on Nagito’s thoughts, Hinata turned and fixed him with another weird look, though he seemed more self-conscious than critical. “What are you looking at?”

Feeling heat rising to his face that wasn’t caused by the sun’s warmth, Nagito chuckled nervously. “Ahaha, pardon my staring. I just haven’t seen the forest like this before, that’s all.”

That was partially true; the forest usually never looked the same twice. The untrue part came from the fact that moments ago, Nagito was staring unabashedly at Hinata the way a child did at a candy store. Not that Nagito considered Hinata to be shallow eye candy, goodness no; if anything, Hinata was rather plain-looking, yet Nagito felt a strange kinship with him that made him extend an invitation to go into the forest and ask for his name in the first place.

It wasn’t until Hinata stepped away from him awkwardly did Nagito realize he had been holding onto his shoulder still. Hinata cleared his throat and spoke in a bit of a gruff voice.

“So, can you find what you need here? Or do we have to wait for the forest to change again?”

Nagito snapped to attention. “Oh! Yes, this place will do.”

He walked over and bent next to the fruit bushes, careful not to disturb the butterflies as he pushed his way in. “Let’s see…”

Hinata’s voice rang out behind him. He walked over to him, hands outstretched as if he was expecting something to jump out. “Oi, is it really okay for you to just stick your hand in? What if something bites you?”

“Well, I can’t deny that possibility.” Nagito rummaged further until he pulled out what he was looking for: crisp golden leaves that shimmered metallically in the light. “But I know we’re in the right place. And I have you to thank for it, actually.”

Hinata sounded puzzled. “Me? Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe not directly.” Nagito stowed away the aurum leaves in his apron pocket. “But just by you being with me, you change things. How do I describe it? I mentioned that my innate magic isn’t anything special, but I think it has to do a lot with luck.”

“You think? Luck?” Hinata shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nagito stood and stretched out his back. “Yes, luck. It’s an odd magic, to the point where I don’t really consider it magic at all.”

“That’s because it isn’t?” Hinata’s voice was incredulous.

“I know, it sounds far fetched.” Nagito’s laugh rattled in his throat. “I feel the same way about it as you do, Hinata-kun. But I swear I’m telling the truth. I guess you could say that I have different karma compared to other people.”

“You could say that about anyone,” Hinata protested. “I still don’t see how I had any part in this.”

Nagito looked at Hinata strangely. “Really? What else could have led me to you?” “The fact that I bumped into you? Or that people often commission you and that it’s my job as a courier to deliver them to you?”

“Even before that. When Souda-kun took on his apprenticeship, what made your boss reassign you to my area?”

Hinata just stared. “Komaeda, I don’t understand where you’re going with this. It just sounds like you’re talking about probability or variables, not luck.”

Nagito’s heart briefly sped up. “Well, what if I told you I believe that I felt that you’re similar to me? Your presence alone is enough to change what happens around you. I wasn’t expecting to find such a large quantity of aurum leaves so soon, yet here I am.”

From the way Hinata stood with his arms crossed, it was clear he wasn’t buying any of it. “Well, if you and I are both so lucky, then this randomly-changing forest should change right now and show us the exit.”

In the moments following their conversation, nothing changed. Nagito felt a bit of guilt seep into him. He really did it now—he talked too much and put too many of his weird thoughts out into the open, including the expectation that they’d be able to leave so quickly. He really should’ve let Hinata stay behind. Even though he was fortunate enough to find all those aurum leaves so quickly thanks to Hinata, it looked like their lucky streak was running out.

Then all of the sudden their surroundings rippled. Nagito could hear Hinata curse loudly beside him as the sunlight and butterflies disappeared, replaced by a path identical to the one they entered the forest on.

“No fucking way,” Hinata said. He marched out of the forest, leaving Nagito to trail behind him.

“Hinata-kun?”

“This is definitely a coincidence,” Hinata muttered to himself, “there’s no way I could’ve caused this.”

The pace at which he walked outside the forest was a clear indication of his agitation, something that puzzled and worried Nagito a fair bit. Nagito walked faster to match him.

“I think you should have some more faith in yourself.” Nagito began mildly, feeling that his remark might not be received well. “But whether you did or not, I felt better when you accompanied me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a casual outing like this.”

Finally Hinata’s long strides shortened into a more relaxed gait. “Has it?”

Nagito said, “yes. I’m usually too occupied with orders to go out much, so this was a nice change of scenery. Even if it was just for work.”

For a short few moments, Hinata didn’t speak any further. Then he went, “I’m… glad it was good for you. The scenery was pretty nice, though I don’t know what I’d do if things got dangerous.”

Nagito thought about the various magical creatures, venomous plants, and hazardous terrain he encountered in the past. He decided not to elaborate upon those experiences, for Hinata’s sake. After all, Hinata must be worn out from their little excursion, if his earlier cursing was anything to go by.

“I’m glad nothing bad happened,” Nagito said, and left things at that.

Together they walked in silence back to his shop. Maybe something changed in him after he looked at Hinata under the sun in the forest, but as they walked, Nagito felt completely at ease around him. Before, Nagito wasn’t sure what it was about Hinata that made him want to fill the silence between them with idle chatter. Now, Nagito was perfectly content with just matching his stride to Hinata’s in silence. He suspected it was the silence that close friends had, a comfortable one in which both parties knew what the other was thinking without the need to exchange words.

But that was unrealistic, wasn’t it? They were still strangers to each other, and Nagito wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend he knew Hinata’s innermost thoughts and feelings. Yet Nagito felt they weren’t complete strangers anymore either. He never went out to get ingredients with another person before, and he suspected that Hinata had never seen magic work in the way it did in the forest. In a way, their shared experience brought them closer together, even if just by a little bit.

There was also the way Nagito’s chest tightened when he thought about the distance that was still between them. The desire to get closer to another person was, in itself, an unusual experience; he never felt this towards others, not even Souda, whom he saw on a regular basis. In just a few conversations (and one preternatural experience), Hinata had become something like a friend.

Of course, it wasn’t as if Nagito would voice these thoughts aloud. But he did walk with a slight spring in his step as they walked into the front door of the shop, bell jingling as it opened.

When they went in, Nagito parted the curtain that separated the front of his shop from the back. He turned to Hinata and said, “wait there a moment, please. I just need to add these leaves and then they’ll be done.”

He went to his work bench and pulled out several bottles, all filled with a differently colored liquid within. From his apron pocket he removed the aurum leaves that he collected and added small flakes to each. The effect of adding them was instant; as soon as they touched each liquid, they fizzled and dissolved. The golden luster present in the leaves melted and spread throughout all the potions, making them scatter the light in shimmery rays.

Satisfied with the result, he brought them back into the storefront. There he began to wrap each of them in paper, humming while he worked. His fingers moved deftly, tying them off with string and marking them with his insignia.

“You seem cheery,” Hinata observed.

“Do I?” Nagito asked distractedly, still preoccupied with his work.

Hinata had leaned over the counter, drumming his fingers against the wood. “Yeah. You’re really calm too, considering what happened. It’s almost weird.”

Being called weird was nothing new for Nagito, but hearing that from Hinata somehow felt different. Others meant it in a defensive or dismissive way, but not Hinata.

“Almost?” Nagito echoed.

“Well,” Hinata began, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. But he seemed to think better of it and shook his head. “Nevermind. Point is, you’re an interesting figure. I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“I could say the same for you,” Nagito said. He passed over the wrapped bottles to Hinata. “Though you must be around boring people very often if you mean what you say.”

Hinata stowed them away in his bag with a dry few laughs. “No, it’s the opposite actually. I meet a lot of, uh, colorful people in my work. Dealing with them all while trying to get my job done can get pretty stressful.”

“Is that so?” Nagito wondered if Hinata would ever venture the stories of colorful clients to him.

“Yeah. You’re a lot more relaxed in comparison.” Hinata brought out a bag of coins and some more papers and slid it over the counter. “Alright, that should do it. I’ll be back in a few days for the new orders.”

Nagito smiled. “I look forward to it. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

“Yeah…”

Maybe Nagito’s tone was too eager because Hinata gave him another one of his weird looks. Though this time he also had a half-smile that gave Nagito a tingling feeling in his chest the same way a catalyst added to a potion made it fizzle. Nagito pretended to fiddle with the new commission sheets as he watched Hinata leave again.

But in the middle of exiting through the door, Hinata turned and spoke. “It feels weird to say this, but I kind of enjoyed walking with you today.”

Hearing that, Nagito felt his heart rate spike a bit. A touch too eagerly he replied, “I enjoyed walking with you too! Though the forest was very beautiful, it would’ve been better if the marketplace was open today. It’s much less volatile than Evershift. And no venomous snakes, too.”

Nagito hadn’t intended to be funny, but Hinata let out a surprised laugh, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “That’s definitely a plus.”

And then he was gone, leaving Nagito standing and staring like an idiot at the door. The bell tinkled as the door shut, and then there was silence.

For some reason, Nagito had the sudden urge to rush out the door himself. And what would he do if he did? Stare at Hinata’s back as he left? Why would he need to do that? The more he thought about those questions, the more they multiplied and made his head spin. They mingled with the echoes of your plants are pretty nice, you’re an interesting figure, and I kind of enjoyed walking with you in his head, slowly eating at him. Like a leech slowly draining his blood, they worked at Nagito’s brain until he felt only his skull would remain.

Never in his life had Nagito ever felt this irrationally towards another person. Something must have changed in Nagito during their time together in the forest. What was it?

His mind conjured several images against his will. He saw the unremarkable face of a stranger, and felt the warm grasp of a hand extended in aid. He saw the weird glances thrown his way and heard the short, dry laughter of a skeptic. He saw shoulders sunlit and firm underneath his touch. He saw brown hair bathing in the sun’s rays, hazel eyes that shone like leaves steeped in gold.

There was a deep thudding in Nagito’s chest that made him feel out of breath. He clutched a shaky hand to it, feeling his heart beating wildly, pumping hot blood into his face until he felt flushed. When his legs began to feel weak, Nagito leaned back against the shelf, careful not to disturb the potion display there.

“No way,” he breathed, though there was nobody in the world who believed in his own words less than himself.

<br>

The next time Nagito saw Hinata after he realized he had a massive crush on him, Hinata looked noticeably worn out.

“Hinata-kun?” Nagito asked, concerned.

Speaking in a low and scratchy voice, he announced, “I’m here to pick up the new orders.”

The way he hefted his bag over his shoulder made it seem like it was full of heavy stones. Nagito frowned.

“They’re ready, but you look rather unwell, Hinata-kun. Should you even be working right now?”

“I mean, I know I look like shit.” Hinata coughed a dry laugh. “But nobody else can work but me. I’m not even that sick.”

As he said that, he sneezed loudly once, twice, thrice. He ended his sneezing fit with a few sniffles.

Nagito said, “I admire your ability to work even when you’re under the weather, but I really do think you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Hinata was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “Well, whether I’m pushing myself too hard or not, I’m still on the clock. Going home now will just mean that the time I spent getting here will just be a waste. So, are the orders ready or not?”

Nagito pursed his lips but otherwise said nothing. He merely retreated into the back of the shop for a second, retrieved the orders as well as an extra flask of silvery liquid, and passed things over to Hinata.

Hinata checked his list and rattled off the potion names under his breath. “Fire flower essence, Lovers’ Brew, draught of dream induction, and—” he paused, noticing the extra flask on the counter. It sat there innocently, contents still swirling a bit from when Nagito handled them.

“This wasn’t on the list,” Hinata said.

“It wasn’t,” Nagito agreed, “because it’s for you.”

Hinata scrutinized the bottle, eyebrows drawn low over his tired eyes. “Why me? What is it?”

“It’s a healing potion.” Nagito pushed it closer to Hinata. “Drink it, and you’ll start feeling better immediately.”

As expected, Hinata began to protest. He backed away and shook his head adamantly. “I didn’t bring any money. Shouldn’t you save this for one of your paying customers? Instead of just one sick guy you just met?”

“It’s just one potion from a dime a dozen witch,” Nagito insisted. “Besides, you’re not just some guy, Hinata-kun. You’re more than that to me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nagito felt heat crawl up into his face. He hadn’t meant to say it so blithely, but now all he could was live with it. At least he didn’t let slip some of his more embarrassing feelings of admiration.

He hastily tried to gloss over his faux pas. “Come on, don’t be modest.”

As if Hinata didn’t hear him, he asked, “am I really?”

There was no getting out of answering. Hinata was just that sort of thorough person who left no stone unturned. Nagito averted his gaze for a second, unable to meet those piercing eyes of his. “Y-Yes.”

A beat of silence passed. Hinata’s expression was mostly unreadable, hand resting near his chin as if he was deep in thought. Nagito had the feeling he was being studied, and that Hinata was on the edge of a breakthrough but needed just the one last piece of evidence to complete his puzzle. Nagito, however, was very determined to not elaborate, as that would be bad for his heart and his sanity.

So more insistently, Nagito went, “so if you’ll kindly drink it…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

Finally, Hinata accepted the flask, uncorked it, and lifted it to his mouth. In a few gulps the potion went down his throat. His lips parted from the flask with a small pop. Nagito tried not to stare at the motion and failed miserably.

“So, how was it?” Nagito asked around the lump in his throat.

Hinata wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He seemed to breathe more clearly than before. “Tasted alright. I think I am feeling a bit better now, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Nagito hoped he didn’t sound too dreamy. “I can take the bottle back.”

As Nagito reached over the counter, Hinata held onto the bottle, another one of his half-smiles spreading across his face. “You know, you can be surprisingly pushy sometimes.”

Nagito blinked, retracting his hand. “Huh?”

“It’s not an insult,” Hinata said quickly, “just something I noticed. I pegged you as a mild kind of guy, but just now, you were really insistent that I drink this. I didn’t expect that from you.”

Hinata gestured with the bottle in his hand, making a motion to toss it. He gave Nagito a meaningful gaze, not breaking eye contact even as Nagito raised his hands to receive it. When he did throw the bottle, it sailed through the air and landed in Nagito’s arms with ease.

It was such a simple gesture, and Nagito hoped he wasn’t reading into things too deeply and looking for things that weren’t there, but he felt what passed between them was an exchange resembling friendship.

Cautiously Nagito looked back up and gave a smile of his own. “Think of it as my way of saying thanks.”

Now it was Hinata’s turn to look bemused. “For what?” he asked.

“For coming with me the other day,” Nagito said. “I already said this, but I really enjoyed our outing.”

Hinata blew a puff of air from his nose that ended awkwardly with a few coughs into the crook of his elbow. Nagito interpreted that as a sign of amusement. “I’d say some parts were too weird for my liking, but… well, I liked a lot of it too.”

After he said that, Hinata swept the rest of the orders into his bag and did his usual exchange of new orders and payment. Nagito dutifully logged their exchanges in his pocketbook.

Hinata hefted his bag. “Well, I’m off.”

“See you,” Nagito said. “Make sure you rest when you get back home. It’d be bad if your cold got any worse.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me.” Hinata waved him off as he left. “I’ll feel better soon anyway, thanks to your potion.”

Hinata’s parting words made warmth spread throughout Nagito’s body. For the rest of the day he hummed as he worked, feeling light as he handled his other patrons. Though a small voice kept whispering to him that his feelings would never be reciprocated, Hinata’s pleasant voice, complimenting and thanking him, played and replayed in Nagito’s brain and effectively drowned those whispers out.

<hr>

A few days later on a rainy morning, Nagito was cleaning the shelves when the bell above the shop door tinkled cheerfully. Since it was right around Hinata’s usual pickup time, Nagito called out a greeting without looking up from his work.

“Good morning, Hinata-kun! Are you feeling better?”

A familiar voice answered him. “Yo, Komaeda. It’s me this time.”

But it wasn’t the familiar voice that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. Nagito turned and tried not to look visibly disappointed as Souda’s shockingly pink hair came into view. The trails of water he trekked onto the shop floor certainly didn’t help lift his mood.

“Ah, pardon me, Souda-kun. I thought you were completing your apprenticeship?”

It wasn’t as if Nagito hated Souda, not at all. Souda was a hard worker, especially when he was delivering commissions for Sonia and didn’t brush off Nagito on most days. But with Souda, the fact that they were merely business associates was clear as day. They weren’t friends outside work, and once Souda completed his apprenticeship, he would presumably work as an artillerist full-time. A skilled craftsman like himself had no reason to visit some tiny potion shop at the end of the road. And one little witch didn’t have any business seeking out the company of someone as talented as Souda.

Souda strolled up to the counter and startled rifling through his bag. “Some stuff came up, so I’m working again.”

“I see,” Nagito said. He wanted to ask when Souda would go back to his apprenticeship, but it would’ve looked like he was disappointed to see him. Instead Nagito went, “well, it’s good that you’re making some extra money in the meantime.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation ended there. Normally Nagito would say more, but for some reason, he couldn’t motivate himself to engage Souda in more idle chit chat. Perhaps the dreariness of the gray skies beyond his shop window made Nagito more apathetic. Whatever it was, neither he nor Souda seemed to have any desire to keep talking.

Thus they performed their routine exchange of goods in silence. And what an awkward silence it was; the sounds of rain pattering against the window, glass bottles scraping against the counter, and the occasional squelch of Souda’s boots as he shifted were the only sounds that filled the shop. Nagito didn’t dislike working, but the general atmosphere of the shop coupled with the disappointment of not seeing Hinata lulled him into a state of boredom that he couldn’t seem to shake. How was it that just a few hours spent with Hinata was infinitely more interesting than anything Nagito encountered in his life?

Surprisingly, it was Souda who broke the awkward silence between them.

“Man, what’s got you so gloomy? You’re usually a lot more talkative.”

“Hm?” Nagito asked, rousing out of his thoughts. “Oh, it’s just the weather. Rainy days like these make me a little lethargic.”

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Souda took a glance at the delivery addresses. Then all of the sudden, he squealed like a little kid. “Actually, this is great! I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling extra pumped now! I haven’t been able to see Sonia-san since I left to do my apprenticeship, but now that I’m working again, I get to do a delivery for her!”

He pumped his fists wildly, scattering water droplets everywhere. “Do you think she missed seeing me? She missed me, didn’t she? That’s why she kept ordering things even when I was gone—she was waiting for me to come again!”

Souda whooped. “Wait for me, my princess! I’ll be there to rescue you from evil soon!”

Nagito smiled a bit. Though he was still disappointed that Hinata wasn’t there, Souda provided some relief from his boredom. “Sounds like it. Why else would she order stuff from just a little witch like me?”

He checked his pocketbook, scanning over her previous orders. “Not only that, but she didn’t buy any Pest Repellant with her other orders when Hinata-kun was doing the deliveries. I wonder if that means she managed to get the infestation at her place under control.”

Souda scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, she must have. The entrance to her place always reeked of the stuff when I came, but I never saw any insects crawling around.”

Nagito closed his pocketbook with a snap, beaming. “So even mediocre stuff made by me worked! I hope the poison immunity potions and the Lovers’ Brew she ordered performs to her standards as well.”

“L-Lovers’ Brew?” Suddenly Souda banged his fists on the counter. “You mean, like a love potion? You never told me you can make stuff like that! Come on, you have to give me some!” Nagito raised his hands in surrender with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t have any in stock right now, and it takes a long time to brew to boot.”

Seeing Souda about to object, he added, “besides, things won’t work with you if she already drank it with another party. It’s a little exclusive like that. It seems you’re out of luck, Souda-kun. My condolences.”

“What kind of rules are those?!” Souda pulled at his hair in frustration.  “Don’t tell me she’s seeing someone else! Is it that stupid overlord guy who’s always there with her when I come? Or was Hinata trying to pull something funny while I was gone?”

Nagito didn’t know who Souda meant by ‘that stupid overlord guy’ but hearing Hinata’s name made his heart feel tight. For a moment Nagito believed Souda—if Sonia was suddenly enamored with Hinata, then drinking the Lovers’ Brew with him would be within the realm of possibility. Nagito had only seen Sonia a handful of times, but she was very beautiful indeed. If Hinata found her attractive…

For a moment Nagito felt something flare within his chest, a chemical reaction that left him seeing green. But just as quickly his brain kicked him. Though they hadn’t talked much about Hinata’s other clients, Hinata seemed a bit exasperated with extreme personalities. And he hardly batted an eye when he went to deliver the Lovers’ Brew the last time he was here. If he was meant to be its recipient, he should’ve seemed at least a little excited, right?

Then there was the matter of the actual brew in question. If Nagito recalled correctly, then it worked only when…

Before he could finish his thought, Souda’s ranting yanked Nagito out of his head. “Gah! Forget it! I gotta go check on her and stop her from drinking it with that bastard!”

Souda turned on his heel and bolted for the exit. The bell jingled wildly as he flung the door open. It shut with an unceremonious bang, and then Nagito was alone in his shop.

Rain continued to drum dully against the shop’s roof. Had it not been for the puddles on the floor, then Nagito would’ve thought that the past few minutes hadn’t transpired and that this day was just one of many gray days without anything of note. But since they were there, he had to clean it up. With a sigh, Nagito went to the back to retrieve a mop.

Just as he was about to return to the shopfront, though, the thought that Souda had interrupted earlier sprang back into his mind: there was no such thing as a true love potion. That was one of the first things he learned in school. What people called love potions only caused feelings of obsession bordering on mania, which more often destroyed relationships than deepened them. Others were love potions in name only; the Lovers’ Brew in particular was only meant to be a celebratory potion to be drunk with significant others, not unlike a fancy wine or champagne. It didn’t create love. It only was a sign of it.

Nagito chuckled to himself. He had told Souda he was out of luck when he said he didn’t have any Lovers’ Brew in stock, but since it wasn’t an actual love potion, maybe Souda still had a chance. It was a slim one, given that it seemed Sonia was interested in another person despite (or perhaps because) of Souda’s attempts to woo her, but the possibility was still there.

So if even Souda had a chance, did Nagito have one too?

It was a foolish thought. There were many reasons why Hinata wouldn’t return his feelings, more than the amount of raindrops that fell from the sky. Yet as Nagito sponged up the water in his shop, pushing it and swirling it around until it dried, he couldn’t get the notion out of his head.

<hr>

The few days that Hinata didn’t come to the shop turned into weeks. Nagito should’ve let go of his crush the moment Souda said he’d be working in his area again, yet thoughts of conversations they could share, outings they could go on, and a million other what ifs refused to leave his head. Nagito couldn’t do anything without something reminding him of Hinata. Foraging in Evershift Forest was the biggest one, so Nagito tried to look for ingredients downtown. But walking to downtown meant rounding the corner where they fatefully crashed together the day they first met. Even tending to his potted herbs, once a relaxing pastime for him, made his head spin with a single compliment of ‘your plants are pretty nice’ that spiraled into other compliments that Nagito wanted to hear in Hinata’s voice.

Simply put, absence made Nagito’s heart grow fonder, but it was also completely killing him.

What frustrated him to no end was that he still didn’t know anything about Hinata. What did he do outside work? What were his favorite haunts? Where could Nagito find him? Nagito wished he hadn’t blabbered about his whole backstory when they went into the forest together because it left Hinata with hardly an opportunity to talk about himself.

Worst of all, there was a small, selfish voice in Nagito’s head that he fought to suppress for asking things like why hasn’t he visited us? Again, there were a million reasons why Hinata didn’t come back—work, having other people in his life to care about, Nagito’s rudeness, Nagito’s inability to be normal, Nagito’s tendency to ramble over the smallest things—the list went on.

Illogical, pointless, weird. Those were three words that Nagito used to describe himself. Someone like him could never hope to keep people near him for long. That’s why Hinata, a person so kind enough to help a clumsy, troublesome witch like Nagito, wouldn’t bother wasting his time to come back.

Nagito should just let go of his stupid crush. That way, his heart wouldn’t race maddeningly every time he heard the bell above the door jingle, just as it did now while he was in the middle of sorting things out in the back. The shop was due to close in five minutes, so unless the customer needed something he already had in stock, Nagito wouldn’t be able to brew anything in time.

From behind the curtains, Nagito called out a tired, “sorry, I’m closing soon. I won’t be able to help you today.”

The voice Nagito heard made him freeze in his tracks. “Oh, I’m not here for business. I was wondering if you were free after you closed, actually.”

Nagito could hardly hear himself over his dizzying heartbeat. Still bent over a crate of ingredients, he asked, “Hinata-kun?”

“Yeah, it’s me. But if it’s a bad time, then I can come another day—”

Nagito hurriedly sprang to his feet.

“No need!” he cried.

Like a mouse scurrying out of a snake’s den, Nagito nearly tripped over himself trying to get into the storefront. Then in his haste, his foot caught onto something and he tripped for real. He got a flash of something like déjà vu; Hinata yelled out a ‘hey!” as Nagito hurtled towards the ground. Only this time, things seemed to happen in slow motion. Before Nagito could somersault onto the floor, solid arms went around him and stopped him from falling further. His vision went dark.

Hinata’s voice was some parts bewildered and some parts an emotion Nagito couldn’t quite place. “What was that?”

Nagito was about to reply with a spectacular accident only I could achieve when he took note of the position he was in. Suspended by his armpits in a manner almost like a hug, Nagito felt soft fabric against his face. The faint smell of soap tickled his nose. And when he blinked, he became all too aware of the rising and falling motion of a person breathing against his face.

With mounting horror Nagito realized he had just planted himself face-first into Hinata’s chest like some romantic trope. Nagito desperately tried not to scream as Hinata spoke again.

“Seriously, what was that? You would’ve broken your jaw if I didn’t catch you.”

Nagito felt the arms around him begin to move, and then he was being hauled up to his feet the way a kitten gets picked up by the scruff of its neck. He wobbled, disoriented, until Hinata steadied him with a firm hand to his shoulder.

“Are… you okay?” Hinata asked. He sounded worried, as if Nagito had actually fallen and gotten concussed.

Nagito did his best to plaster on a normal smile. He tried not to think about how warm his face was. “Ahaha, yes. Just feeling some vertigo.”

Vertigo, and the sensation like his blood was about to evaporate from his body. Nagito laughed some more. How truly hopeless he was, becoming such a bumbling mess from Hinata’s presence alone. And that didn’t even take into consideration the effect Hinata’s touch had on him.

Speaking of touches, Hinata’s hand was still on his shoulder from when he steadied him. Nagito was about to point out that Hinata needn’t trouble himself touching him when Hinata let go of him as if he was burned. Hinata cleared his throat.

“Vertigo!” he said loudly. “Yeah, I’ll say. That must have been some vertigo you felt there. Yeah.”

Nagito blinked. Perhaps it was because the sun was beginning to set, pink and orange hues streaming in from his shop’s window, but Hinata was looking rather rosy. Could he be…?

“Are you sick, Hinata-kun?”

“What?” Hinata asked, sounding oddly… defensive? “What makes you think I’m sick?”

Baffled at his reaction, Nagito ventured hesitantly, “you were sick the last time you were here. I guess that means my potion didn’t work… as expected from a lowly witch like me.”

“No! No, I—” Hinata put a hand to his head— “hold on, I need to start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I came here because the potion worked, so I don’t get what you’re saying. It’s just, it’s not true.”

“I—I see,” Nagito said simply. “So, then why are you here, if you don’t need more?”

“Didn’t I already ask you? I wanted to know if you were free after you closed. There’s an event going on in the marketplace and I wanted to know if you wanted to go.”

Nagito blinked. What was happening right now was a scene straight from his daydreams: Hinata showing up at his door, Hinata helping him even as he made a fool of himself, Hinata offering to take him somewhere to spend time with him. But this couldn’t really be happening, could it? Could he accept?

Unable to answer those questions, Nagito defaulted to caution. No use in assuming he knew what Hinata’s intentions were. “I would be free.”

Then, because he couldn’t resist, “forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but would that mean we’re going together?”

Hinata gave him his signature half-smile. It was embarrassing how much Nagito missed it.

“What, you think I came here just to tell you that and then abandon you?”

The little voice that Nagito thought he had under wraps sprang out of him. “Well, it has been a long time since you’ve been here.”

The way Hinata’s smile fell off his face made Nagito want to sink into the ground. Why did he have to say that?

“That’s… I can explain it to you, but first, I want to know if that’s a yes.”

There was no way Nagito could refuse, not after all that. “It is. Though I’m surprised as to why you still want to see me, after all the unsightly things I’ve done.”

Hinata shook his head. “Again, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. You’re kind of a strange guy, Komaeda.”

“Huh?” Nagito asked.

“Nevermind, forget I said that.”

Strangely, the corners of his mouth had quirked back up again. Before Nagito could wonder about it, Hinata gestured towards the door.

“Anyways, let’s go before it gets dark.”

At Hinata’s urging, all Nagito could do was quickly untie his apron and follow him out. He tried to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest as he thought about all the ways he has screwed up and will screw up around Hinata.

But somehow, walking side by side with him calmed his nerves a bit. If Hinata was kind enough to invite him out, then he might also be kind enough to overlook any other faux pas Nagito could make.

The bell jingled cheerfully behind them as they left.

[foxtophat]

another long one, coming in at 9k words because i am goddamn trash

HEY GUYS SORRY ABOUT THAT UGH today just didn’t go the way i wanted it to. you ever feel like that?  well anyway here is the 11th chapter!!! fun fact: hurk and sharky show up! second fun fact: i am 90% sure that it is not moonshine they’re peddling.  3rd fun fact: i don’t know if they know what an apple looks like any more

i don’t have much to say about this chapter, although i will say it involves casual drinking if you’re not into that.  i think i’m gonna go have a newcastle myself once i’m done writing this up... which i guess means now!

as usual my dudes, i want to thank you all for being so tolerant of my bullshit and so open to my dumbassery! it’s so nice to feel MOTIVATED to post for once, which might not come through when i get delayed like i have the last 2 chapters, but it’s true! i have so much trouble working on things without feedback, so you guys really have been awesome.

if you wanna contact me, my askbox is always open! as always, i appreciate any and all comments, kudos, likes, reblogs, casual links, private discord messages, idk whatever i don’t even use discord

below the cut is the full chapter for those of you who don’t wanna go off-site! thank you again for reading guys, and i will talk incessantly about this fic soon!!!

The next three days are marked by a surprising peace. Nick had suspected that once the cat got out about John, they would be fielding a flurry of calls, or maybe even some in-person confrontations, but so far they've been left completely alone. Maybe telling people on their way out of the county has something to do with that. Maybe they'll need to wait for Hurk and Sharky to come back and spread the news if Jerome's decided not to do it himself. Nick's not sure if that's even what he wants , but it feels like the inevitable next step. Eventually, if the community is going to come together, the cat's gonna have to get out of the bag.

John is just as nervous than before, although it only shows whenever they hear distant engines or a far-off gunshot. The night after the caravan, he and Jerome spend a full thirty minutes on the radio, but it only makes him more pensive and reserved. Nick wouldn't mind so much if Carmina weren't also acting bummed out — sure, she's just upset that she lost a friend before she could make one, but it still sucks to see his daughter acting as morose as John.

At least Kim's optimism hasn't been phased. She's been determined to look at the situation from every positive angle available, and none of Nick's uncertainty has put a hamper on it. She rallies them all for a second day-trip down to the river, hell-bent on cheering each and every one of them. It's a day of sunlight and clear water, and the fish are jumping like mad. It must be spawning season, or something, because the suckers are easy pickings.

The nice weather and the easy fishing both do wonders for Carmina's mood, which is becoming more and more fickle every day. Nick dozes in and out with a rod in hand, and although John spends most of the time staring at the water, he touches base with reality once in a while. Mostly just when Kim includes him in conversation, but it's still enough.

It's... nice. Nick doesn't know the last time he felt so relaxed. He doesn't think that memory exists anymore, lost to time like so many other positive thoughts, but he's enjoying the reminder to relax his shoulders and turn off his anxious brain for a few minutes. With the sunshine just as warm as ever and the water a bright, nearly unnatural blue, Nick figures all they need is an umbrella and some beach towels to drive the point home. Hell, at this point, they might as well claim this as their private waterfront.

Grace shows up after breakfast the next day, ready to take Carmina for some target practice at her range. She isn't strictly speaking to Nick yet, but she keeps it cordial, even friendly with Kim. Maybe Jerome talked with her, or maybe she came to accept the situation on her own, who knows. Either way, Grace ignores the sight of John out on the back porch and treats Carmina to a genuine smile when she comes downstairs, rifle in hand. Finally, three-quarters of the year later, the situation with Grace has finally returned to normal, taking one more weight off of Nick's shoulders.

She promises to have Carmina back before sundown. She also promises to leave her radio on, just in case. Nick knows what she means by just in case , but he can't say no to the added security.

Nick retreats out back, letting Kim have some time with Grace without the awkward tension of his presence. John pointedly refuses to look at him, sorting through a box of components as though he hasn't already picked it apart.

It isn't until after Grace and Carmina leave that Nick remembers he has an out — well, now it's just a regular chore. He's got to deal with the so-called freezer in the hangar, which is full of fish and sucking up all the fuel for the generator. Either he has to make it viable to use long term, or they're going to be shit out of luck for food preservation beyond salting and pickling.

From the look on his face, John wishes Nick would ask for his help, but Kim has already called on him to help harvest the last of the spring planter, so he's shit out of luck there. Nick doesn't have any damn sympathy for John — gardening is boring, and Nick will do anything to avoid it, especially something as easy as throwing John under a bus.

So, the good news is that the freezer still turns on. Nick hadn't expected much after finding it under part of the collapsed roof, but it hasn't shorted out once since they hooked it up to the generator about a week ago.

The bad news is that it's not a good use of power at all. The rubber seal is nearly worn off, so it keeps losing coolness, and there's definitely a coil burnt out or something in there because it barely manages to keep its temperature lower than the air around it. Sure, maybe it'll come in handy around winter , but that's not going to help them with summer around the corner.

As it is, Nick's only sure that the fish from yesterday are still good. There's a covered pot of stew underneath that they put in after the caravan left, which is probably fine, too... but Nick wouldn't put money on the rabbit they put in at the start. After all, it hadn't been all that fresh to begin with, and it's been wrapped in cloth for a little too long.

Well, maybe once they get some chickens and find a post-apocalyptic appliance repair center, it'll be worth being the energy sink that it is. For now, Nick has to figure out what to do with these goddamn fish and the leftover stew from the other night. It's their own damn fault, thinking they'd still have company after revealing John, but that doesn't change the amount of food they have on hand.

At least when Grace comes back, they'll have something to repay her with, although Nick isn't sure she's willing to eat any of their food yet. She'd been okay about seeing John in the backyard, relatively speaking, but there's no way she actually believes any of the progress being made. And as much as Nick would like to tell her that her distrust is unwarranted, he can't exactly tell her how to feel. It's just gonna have to take time, and she's going to need a different kind of proof than Nick.

They aren't expecting any visitors, so the sound of engines on approach shakes Nick out of his thoughts and puts him on immediate high alert. He can't make out the number of vehicles, but it sounds like a goddamn posse, which can't be good. When he goes out into the yard to check on Kim, he finds her missing; John is the only one standing there, waiting nervously by the planters and looking for any sign to bolt.

"Stay here," Nick tells him as he approaches, heading straight for the front.

"Yes, I know ," John snaps, but Nick isn't going to stop to argue with him. He slows his anxious jog as he comes around the side of the house, catching sight of Hurk's motorcycle through the trees coming down the drive. Kim is standing in the front yard, arms loosely folded over her chest; she looks cautiously excited for the company, although neither of them are sure if this is strictly a social call. Nick sure hopes it is — he's not sure they could hold their own against a group with an RPG and a whole lot of crazy.

Hurk kills his engine once he sees they've got an audience, leaving his bike with the others in the drive. The big, blissed-out guy and the smaller, wild-card one stay on their bikes, while Sharky talks to somebody sitting on his ATV briefly before following his cousin's tracks.

Kim greets them with a warm smile as they come up. "Hey, you guys. We weren't expecting you to stop by again."

"We radioed ahead," Sharky grouses. "But nobody answered."

"Sorry, I wasn't near the receiver. We've been out back all day."

Hurk pulls off his sunglasses with a dramatic flair. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that," he says, with a tone that implies Sharky had a different theory, one Nick imagines involves John staging some sort of coup. "Well, whatever, we're here now!" Looking around coolly for a second, Hurk realizes he still needs to explain himself and bashfully elaborates, " Somebody oughtta know we got back alright, so we can get hired out again and whatnot..."

"Everything cool?" Sharky asks. He makes no effort to hide how he's looking for a fire that he can blame on John. Well, at least he's trying to find a good reason to beat John up this time.

"I should be asking you that," Kim counters, wearing a smile that's enough to disarm Sharky's gruff posturing. "How far did you get?"

"We hit Great Falls before we figured any further was a one-way trip. They're probably past Missoula if they kept up the clip."

"And how'd everything look?" Nick asks. "I mean, relatively speaking."

Sharky shrugs. "A whole lot of the same," he replies. Hurk rolls his eyes in his cousin's direction, fixing him with an annoyed stare that eventually wears Sharky out. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he opens up semi-reluctantly. "It wasn't the, uh... wild wasteland I was expecting. Lots of empty land and road stops. Some friendly, some... uh, not so much. But that group can handle it."

Nick is happy to agree, and not just to placate Sharky. "Yeah," he says. "Hope County breeds tough people."

"Did you guys pick up somebody along the way?" Kim asks, having just done a headcount of the remaining posse. Nick remembers the two on their bikes; the new guy, he remembers from the third car, quiet and quick to leave but otherwise unmemorable.

"Oh, that's Mud," Sharky says, pointing at the three who probably can't hear much over the rumbling engines. "He was with the caravan, but he changed his mind." Sharky's chest puffs up as he confidently tells them, "He's ridin' with us now."

"That's great!" Kim exclaims. She's genuinely excited by the news and the chance to socialize, and the effect of her positivity is hard to fight. Sharky can't help but smile back, even if he's trying to act tough, rubbing his hands together as he casts another approving glance back at his gang.

"Are you going to do anything to celebrate?" she asks.

"Not much to celebrate, he's kind of a nerd."

"Come on," Kim laughs. "You left home and came back with more people than you started with. I think most people these days would count that as a win." She rubs her hands together, looking briefly at Nick and suggesting, "We could have a fish fry?"

"Hey, that's an idea," Nick replies. "We caught some bass yesterday and they're just gonna get composted if we don't do something with them."

"I dunno about that," Sharky says, cutting off Hurk just before he can excitedly agree.

Kim presses her hands together. "Come on, stay," she pleads with a smile. "At least let us feed you. When's the last time you had something more than jerky and booze?"

"Well..." Sharky trails off uncertainly.

"Kim's right," Nick cajoles. "We got plenty to spare."

"Grace is going to be back with Carmina in a few hours," Kim adds. "I'm sure she'd be glad to see you guys."

Sharky rubs his beard, looking back at their waiting posse. "Grace, huh?" he repeats. He trades a few unsubtle glances with Hurk before finally turning back to Kim and Nick. "Yeah, that should be okay. Except — ah, shit. We promised Wallace and Tiny we'd start doing things democratically now that we won't keep tying over everything. Hold on, gotta go confer with the boys."

They only spend a minute talking it over before the two motorcycles kill their engines, which is all the confirmation Nick needs to know they're hosting company. "I'll go tell John," he tells Kim under his breath. "Somebody should give him a heads up before Sharky punches him again."

Kim sends him off with a pat on his shoulder as he heads for the backyard. John is still waiting by the planters, although he's staring longingly for the safety of the hangar. Nick can't blame him — he's still sporting a dark and noticeable bruise from the last time Sharky socked him. Hopefully, seeing his lingering handiwork will satisfy Sharky, otherwise, John might wind up with a matching set.

"Sharky and Hurk are back," Nick says. John doesn't exactly relax, but knowing he doesn't have to prepare for another ugly reintroduction keeps him from bolting. "They're, uh, gonna stick around until Grace gets back."

"Then I probably shouldn't be around," John replies.

"What, you wanna go hide all night?" Nick rolls his eyes. "No, don't be a baby. Worst that'll happen is you'll get knocked down again." John doesn't look convinced, so Nick tries another route. "Come on, we went through all that just so you wouldn't have to hide out every time we have company. And people are gonna have to get used to you eventually — at least Sharky and Hurk already know you're alive." Finally, when none of that seems to work, he sighs and promises, "I'll make sure nobody decks you for no good reason, c'mon."

John finally relents, sighing and gesturing vaguely. "Fine," he says, "Whatever you say."

And, even though Kim isn't around to force him to it, John sits back down at the planter and resumes pulling carrots. It's probably entirely out of spite, but at least it keeps him busy while the posse of would-be raiders filters into the backyard. Nick stands awkwardly at first as Wallace and Tiny stare aggressively at John's back, but when Kim rounds out the group and nobody takes a shot at either of them, he forces himself to ease up on the suspicion. From here on out, Nick is going to try his damnedest to act like everything is absolutely normal. Well, as normal as it can be.

Kim has Sharky talking from the outset, which makes it easy for him to avoid acknowledging John at all. It helps that she's genuinely interested in what he's been up to since they last saw each other — other than open-channel conversations on the radio, the Ryes haven't seen them since the world ended. With only one car and not a lot of fuel, they haven't had a chance to go exploring the east side of the county since climbing topside.

As it turns out, Sharky and Hurk have shacked right back up at the old trailer park. They'd met up with Wallace and Tiny sometime after coming topside, and right now the four of them are in the middle of making the park more hospitable. Sharky keeps mentioning a reception area, and Hurk says something about expanding the lot, so Nick suspects they're looking to cash in on the heretofore abandoned hospitality industry.

For now, though, it's just home to four wildcards and one multi-use distillery made from old airplane parts. "It's pretty much fucked," Sharky says, although truthfully, Nick thinks it sounds kind of badass. "But with enough elbow grease, we'll probably be able to make it livable." He looks around, craning his neck to eyeball the mostly-intact hangar and their secure house, and offers a genuine compliment. "You guys got lucky. No hate, just glad you had somewhere to hole up in. It would suck to really have to rough it with a kid around."

"Tell me about it," Kim agrees emphatically. "Although, it took a lot of work to make it this nice, and there's still a lot more to do."

Sharky and Hurk settling in around the fire-pit is all the invitation their crew needs to make themselves more at home. It's no surprise that they pretend like John isn't there — nor is it a surprise that John returns the favor. It's a little tense and a lot awkward for Nick, but for now it's at least a peaceful holding pattern.

"It sorta sucked, seeing everything as trashed as it is here," Tiny says somewhat morosely. "I mean, at least we ain't alone, but..."

"Hope Valley got the best of it in general," Wallace says. "Right in the sweet-spot. Ideal Collapse."

"He means most everything else got blasted," Tiny clarifies, a sort of post-Bliss interpreter. "You can tell when you leave the county. Eases up after a couple of miles, but there's, like, a big old ring around us."

"No doubt, no doubt," Wallace agrees. "Protecting the good stuff."

"It's pretty fuckin' weird," Hurk says. "But I don't know nothin' about nu-clear thermodynamics and whatnot. Could be normal as the albino deer and shit."

"Uh, you think that the caravan's gonna be okay out there, if everything's just as wrecked?" Nick asks.

"Oh, sure," Hurk drawls. "There were all sortsa people makin' due out there, one way or another. They'll be fine ."

Sharky sighs, opens his mouth, then thinks better of whatever he was going to say and changes course. "They made it pretty clear they would be happier without help," he says. "Hope that works out for them. Me? I'm ride-or-die Hope County. At least 'til Hurk here goes international again. Then, uh, I guess I'm gonna be ride-or-die Miami."

"Hell yeah!" Hurk shouts. "Gonna get the business back in business, y'know what I mean? First stop: check in on mama and Xander. Second stop: top of the world, baby!"

The posse rallies around Hurk's promise with excited whoops. Nick doesn't know what Hurk's job was before the apocalypse, but considering the contraband he used to get his hands on, it's probably something that will only flourish here in the apocalypse.

"'Course, she's probably dead," Hurk adds somewhat morosely at the end, sort of ruining the whole vibe.

Sharky slaps his shoulder a few times out of sympathy. "Don't know 'til we go lookin'," he says, which manages to prop Hurk's mood back up for the time-being. "Anyway, we got a whole slew of islands and mountains and shit to explore once we get established. Spending the rest of my life riding around Montana sounds like a waste of a good apocalypse, if you ask me."

The new guy, Mud, looks more confused than Nick about these future plans. "So, what'd they offer you for joining up?" Nick asks him. "Ten-percent of Boshaw-Drubman LLC?"

Startled, Mud shakes his head frantically. "No way. Uh-uh." Bashfully, he says, "I just, uh... got cold feet. But I don't got much out here, not since the, uh..." He glances past Nick, definitely eyeballing John, then swallows and edges around the truth. "Well, um, Sharky let me ride back, on account of the — well, uh, I didn't wanna get left behind either direction. And since I don't got anything, I offered to join up." He frowns, "Except I don't have a bike, or gas for a bike, or a gun, or bullets for a gun..."

"I told you," Sharky scolds like a mother hen, "We'll figure that shit out later."

"It's smart to stay together," Kim says when Mud fails to pick back up again. "It's what we should all be doing. Does that mean you're staying with them at the trailer park?"

Mud nods, while Tiny goodnaturedly jokes, "Not that there's much left to stay at..."

Sharky is quick to defend their home, even if he doesn't sound super convinced by his own argument. "Hey, we just haven't had time to, y'know, clean and all! We've been busy, man, you know that! Gathering ammo, building the still, brewing ..."

"Would be nice to have a roof over our heads, that's all," Tiny laughs.

"Where do you want me to go, the roof store ?"

The argument is mostly playful, but Nick knows it's only a matter of time before that playful resentment becomes real. Hurk already looks bored by the ribbing, which tells Nick a lot about how long this joke has been running. Even John is paying attention, although Nick only catches an uncomfortable backward glance.

It's a contentious problem for the gang, for sure. But Nick doesn't have to reach far to come up with an easy solution, one that he figures will benefit everybody involved. After all, even considering their own needs, they've got more than enough spare scrap to spare, and Hurk and Sharky's goodwill comes with guns and alcohol, so...

"You know," he says, "John and I found a lot of scrap cleaning this place up. Maybe you can use what we can't."

Sharky opens his mouth to say something, probably pretty rude, but he catches himself before he gets that far. "Wouldn't want to put you out like that," he mutters.

"Hey, we're all in it together, right?" Gesturing towards John, who looks like he'd rather fade back into the dirt around him, Nick offers a sort-of compromise. "We've been trying to figure out what to do with the surplus. This seems like a better use than anything we came up with."

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," Sharky admits reluctantly.

Kim recognizes the need for some decisive action, and so she claps her hands together and takes the reins from her grateful husband. "Nick, you and John should take Hurk to look at what we've got. Then, all three of you can bring some wood back so we can get the fire started."

Sharky opens his mouth to object, but Hurk speaks up before he can. "Sounds good!" he exclaims, throwing himself to his feet with ease. Nick can't help but envy him — the guy's got twenty years on him, but Nick doesn't hear his knees popping randomly when he stands up.

"Y'all don't go startin' trouble," he warns his gang, waving Nick on. "Let's do it!"

John turns and heads immediately for the hangar door, disappearing inside without a backwards glance. Hurk lingers once they reach the door, casting a wide look around the empty wash of dirt leading out to the old landing strip before following John inside. He doesn't seem concerned in the slightest that John might be waiting to ambush him.

"Sorry about Sharky, by the way," Hurk says once the three of them are standing in the shade of the tarp overhead. "He's been real stressed is all, tryin' to act all fuckin' responsible and shit. John here making it after the deputy beefed it just hit hard, I guess."

Well, if that's the way Hurk's been referring to it, then no wonder Sharky's sensitive about it. "It's, uh. It's fine. We figured there'd be some... y'know. Reasonable resentment."

John does that thing where he pretends he can't hear he's being talked about, going straight to the log pile stacked against the back wall. Hurk doesn't seem to notice the silent treatment, turning to the organized junk spread out over the cracked concrete. From broken two-by-fours, bent fence-poles, chainlink scraps, and stacks of not-quite-moldy plywood, there's gotta be something here that can help fix up the trailer park. Nick makes sure to highlight the best scrap for Hurk's consideration, although he avoids mentioning their surplus of nails and stripped screws for now. No use showing his whole hand, right?

"Damn," Hurk says at last, looking around in mild astonishment. "Can we hire y'all to do this to our scrap?"

Nick laughs. "Yeah, like I wanna do all this again ."

"What about you?" Hurk asks John's back, ignoring the way he tenses at being directly addressed. "How do we rent you out?"

"You don't," John says, his tone briefly icing over as he turns, regarding them coolly over his armful of logs. He's more petulant than angry when he explains, "I don't owe you my life, so I don't owe you my labor."

"Fine, I'll just save you from a burning building or some shit," Hurk replies, as if he couldn't care less that it's John Seed he's bantering with. "I guess we gotta talk trading, now," he sighs reluctantly. "Man, I fuckin' hate this barter-system bullshit. You know, actually, I got a box full of bottle caps if you wanna..."

Nick waves away the extremely bad offer to invest in an unbacked currency. "Hey, don't worry about it," he says. Hurk frowns heavily at that, so Nick suggests a compromise. "Look, if you and Sharky wind up with your own microbrew, you owe me a case — and yes, I will take payment in installments. That sound fair?"

"If ?" Hurk replies. He lets out a big laugh. "Buddy, I got news for you."

Hurk, John and Nick each take an armful of wood back to the fire pit, where Kim seems to have everything under control. Sharky is less openly hostile when John reappears, anyway, which is a good sign. Mud and Tiny have apparently been given fire-starting duty, jumping to the task as soon as they drop off the wood. Sharky, a true pyromaniac, manages them from his seat by shouting directions at them as they stack the wood in the pit.

Before they can sit back down, Kim turns Nick and John back around for the fish. It's a one-person job, but John doesn't complain about being sent away.

"You okay?" Nick asks John when they reach the freezer.

"Yes," John replies automatically. Nick stares at him for a solid five seconds before he cracks with a frustrated sigh. "I'm just a little overwhelmed. That's reasonable, isn't it?"

"Sure," Nick agrees. He picks up the old bin they've been using to cart fish back from the river. "You can stick around here for a bit if you want. Take a breather."

John scoffs at the idea of taking a break, as per usual. "I thought the point was not to hide," he replies tersely. He reaches out to yank the cracked plastic container from Nick, a frustrated and instinctive reaction that he curbs at the last moment, fingers curling briefly into a fist as he forces himself not to just take things from Nick.

Taking pity on the dumb bastard, Nick pushes the bin into John's arms, flipping open the freezer door and staring down at the slimy, not-yet-smelly fish. "Well, if you need a break, just say you're gonna get more firewood." Nick shrugs. "Someone's gotta check on you eventually, but Kim knows the drill."

John doesn't respond as Nick loads up the bin, but Nick hopes he takes the out to heart. There's not a social obligation out there that Nick hasn't gotten out of by dedicating himself to some dumbass chore nobody else wants to do.

They return to find a roaring fire that is... hopefully under control. The mismatched seating has been pulled back to accommodate the fire's larger-than-average size, accompanied by a couple of chairs from inside to make up the difference. Sharky and Mud have disappeared, although they return just after Nick, each carrying a variety of bottles and jars of different sizes.

"Shit, I didn't think you brought the entire brewery with you!" Nick exclaims, not in the least bit upset by the development.

"Not until you clean all those up," Kim says before Nick can get ahead of himself. "You don't want to be handling a knife right after a shot of... whatever that is."

Nick groans, but she's right. As much as Nick would like to get drunk off his ass on torpedo juice, he has to get his priorities straight. Still — there's a lot more fish than Nick's willing to handle by himself, so he enlists a willing Wallace and Tiny to help out. He picks them mostly because they're openly carrying hunting knives, and because John is just plain bad at deboning fish. John stares at him resentfully, but since he hates handling food as much as he hates gardening, Nick's sure he'll get over it before dinner.

Nick doesn't have much control over the food once it's been cleaned, as Sharky and Hurk have some kind of bet going about who's the better cook and they don't need anybody else throwing their hat in. As far as Nick's concerned, their cooking tastes delicious but indistinguishable. Of course, Nick's waiting for his own dinner, so other than a few bites to try and judge the difference, he doesn't get to eat much of it.

Tiny and Wallace split and down an entire mason jar of mysterious dark liquor while they wait to eat. Nick wants to join them, but Kim's waiting until Carmina is home to start drinking and really, Nick should be doing the same. From the way John's watching distrustfully from the side, he's not likely to get into any moonshine himself.

Nick manages to hold out until after he's finished eating, but then Hurk offers him some moonshine directly and he can't say no. It would be in bad taste, right?

Oof. Turns out the moonshine is in bad taste, but that's what he should expect from something that's easily 120 proof. Nick takes one swig and immediately regrets it as it turns his chapped lips to fire and carries the heat all the way down the back of his throat. There's no taste or anything, just an intense, full-mouth burn and this lizard-brain instinct that everything is going to go horribly wrong if he drinks more of whatever that is.

"Jesus Christ !" he gasps. It's only Hurk's quick reflexes that keep the jar from crashing to the dirt, but Nick doubles down before Hurk can pry it out of his hands. Even as he struggles to form a sentence more complex than, " Poison ," he's got to go back for a second sip. As if somehow a second one would make things better — but of course it doesn't. At least, not to begin with; first, it's gotta turn his shredded lips inside out and throw his tear-ducts into overdrive better than an overripe onion.

"Well don't drink more of it," Kim huffs, way too late.

"Now be honest," Hurk asks, "Can you taste any apple?"

Nick pushes the jar back into Hurk's attentive hands, choking disbelievingly on the word, "Apple ," although now that he thinks about it... No, nope, no after-taste whatsoever. It does , however, warm him from the inside out, leaving him feeling a decent buzz for two conservative swigs.

"Whatever it is," Nick sighs at last, after a big swig of water, "It's great."

"You know," Kim says, "The sooner we put the stew on the fire, the sooner you can eat. Maybe then you could handle more than a couple of baby sips."

Nick clicks his tongue, taking some childish offense at his wife teasing him about his tolerance. At the same time, she's right — and Nick is getting hungry. There's still enough uncooked fish left for when Grace and Carmina get home, but if he wants them to have as much as everyone else, he'll have to settle for the three-day-old stew. At least Kim and John are stuck in the same boat as him.

Before he can get started on that, though, Grace surprises him by returning early with Carmina. Admittedly, it's still pretty late in the afternoon, but he hadn't expected her back so soon. She isn't surprised to find company, which is also a surprise, although she eyes the whole group somewhat distrustfully as she and Carmina round the side of the house. When she sees Hurk and Sharky drinking from their unsanitized brewing bottles, she finally relaxes, letting go of Carmina's shoulder so that she can join the not-necessarily child-safe group.

"Grace!" Sharky exclaims, leaping from his seat and almost grabbing her for a hug before remembering personal boundaries are a thing. "Holy shit, the world literally ended last I saw you!"

Grace returns Sharky's enthusiasm with her more subdued version of it, smiling fondly and following through the rest of the hug for him, the same way she'd grabbed onto Nick and Kim when they'd first come back topside. "Sharky, it's good to see you," she says, her voice deep with emotion.

"I radioed her while you were getting firewood," Kim mentions to Nick as Hurk takes his chance to get a hug from the usually reclusive sniper. "I thought she would appreciate a head's up. And, you know, it cheered Sharky up."

"Hey, good thinking."

Carmina approaches gleefully, carrying the rifle over her shoulder triumphantly. For a nine-year-old, she's pretty natural with the thing, which is a mixed blessing as far as Nick's concerned.

"Aunt Grace made moving targets!" she exclaims, excitement overriding her confusion momentarily until she looks at the group. "I didn't know we were having people over today..."

"It was a happy surprise," Kim tells her. "These are the guys who were helping that caravan heading west, remember?"

"Yeah," Carmina says. She looks immediately to John, who is way too busy staring tensely at Grace and Sharky's reunion to notice her.

"Don't worry," Nick says. "Everything's fine."

"Uh-huh," Carmina says, unconvinced. Thankfully, she doesn't seem too worried about another fight breaking out. That probably has something to do with her attention being focused in an entirely different direction. "Do we have pulleys? I wanna make a shooting range here! It's really easy!"

Nick's gut reaction is to say no, but Kim interrupts him. "Maybe while your dad is getting the stew, he can check," she offers, looking from Carmina to Nick significantly. "Then we can have some dinner and talk about it."

Although it looked like John hadn't been paying any attention before, he stands as soon as Kim mentions going to the hangar. "I remember seeing one," he says.

"You can help me look, then," Nick offers. "Maybe get some more firewood?"

"Yeah," John says absently. Nick barely steps into his line of sight, but that's all he needs, turning and making his way to the hanger down the same invisible path he was glued to before. Nick sighs, rolls his eyes at Kim entirely for show, and follows. Maybe once they get some food in him, John will stop being such a cagey bastard about the whole thing, and they'll be able to actually put things to rest with Grace and Sharky at last.

When the world ended, Nick had figured that meant the end of life as he knew it. In some ways, he'd been right — things will never be as easy, as safe, as peaceful as they used to be — but when his expectations had been wrong, they'd been completely off-base. He'd expected a nuclear wasteland, only to find a lush and thriving field. He'd expected roving gangs of murderers, and instead, he's only encountered desperate, decent people who would rather not waste the bullets. Hell, he'd expected to spend every day struggling to survive, and here he is, sitting in the backyard with a full belly and a shot of liquor to wind down. Sure, the gathering is a primitive knock-off of a barbeque, but Nick knows now that all they need is time and practice. Maybe someday, they'll even have a grill — burgers, corn on the cob, the whole works.

But hey. That's for the future, and right now, Nick isn't going to complain about some bad liquor, mediocre food and Hurk's stripped-down Slayer's cassette blaring from his beat-up stereo.

Carmina finally gets a chance to show off her skills to people other than her family, and so Hurk's boys take turns calling out targets for her to cap in an attempt to take her down a peg. Nick isn't sober enough to trust his daughter with a gun, but Kim hasn't gone back for another taste of "apple" moonshine yet, and Grace is sober as a rock, so they're more than capable of handling things. Mostly, they nix any particularly dangerous targets, keeping Carmina's shots focused out in the yard. Well, for the most part — neither of them can resist watching Carmina shoot the wind-vane still clinging to the roof, even if it means going right over everyone's heads.

It's all in good fun, of course. And, to their credit, not one of the guys even jokingly suggests taking aim at John as he sits apart from the group. It's a good thing, too — John looks uncomfortable at how good a shot Carmina is. Maybe Nick would be uncomfortable with it too, if he hadn't drunk a bottle-neck's worth of moonshine beforehand.

Nick doesn't have to drink a lot to feel downright tipsy, which is great. Back in the day, he used to like getting buzzed every so often, but he'd given up ever feeling safe enough to get inebriated as another lost memory from yesteryear. This... this is nice. And once the guns get put away, it'll be even nicer.

"I think you might be a better shot than Tipsy over here," Wallace tells Carmina, gesturing towards Tiny, who is indeed too tipsy to be a decent shot at all.

"Only one way to find out!" Tiny shouts, failing to move after his declaration.

"Maybe another time," Kim replies uncertainly. "When alcohol isn't involved?"

"Hey, Carmina," Hurk coos, pulling his battered gun into his lap, "This is a Kalashnikov, you ever shoot off one of these?"

"Ooh, no!"

Grace is much less diplomatic than Kim, cutting him off before he can feed Carmina's excitement any more. "Hurk!"

"What? Oh, uh... she's probably too young for an automatic, huh? What is she, nine? I got a Magnum in my saddlebag..."

It's not long after that they run out of targets, forcing an end to Carmina's demonstration of skill. Kim thankfully takes the gun so that nobody gets hurt, and Carmina spends the next twenty minutes peppering the crew with questions about their guns, their tattoos, their trip out with the caravan, and whether or not they have a moving target range like Grace does. Nick relaxes when he realizes that none of the guys are keen on giving a little girl another weapon, more interested in spinning drunken tall-tales that, truthfully, might be a little too PG for Carmina. At least Grace is listening in to fact-check any of their more problematic bullshit.

John isn't any less tense now that Carmina is disarmed, but Nick's not surprised. Sitting on the opposite side of the fire from everybody else, he might as well be hiding in plain sight. That goes against the entire point, but it's also his modus operandi these days. Normally, Nick would just ignore it, maybe even avoid John on purpose to show him how bad it feels, but tonight calls for a more direct approach.

"Need to get some firewood?" Nick asks him, coming to stand in his line of sight.

John squints up at him around the firelight. "No," he mutters, lying through his teeth before changing the subject. "Carmina has good aim."

"That's all Kim's genes. I'm more of a spray-and-pray kinda guy."

John doesn't quite hide his sarcasm, replying, "You don't say."

Nobody's offered John any liquor yet, he's pretty sure, so Nick holds the bottle out in an easily declined gesture. "Wanna try?" he asks, just in case he's being more subtle than he thinks. "Supposed to take like apples."

John gives the bottle an unimpressed once-over. "I don't think so," he decides, not sounding entirely sure about it. He adds defensively, "My tolerance is shot."

"If you say so," Nick replies, pulling the bottle back. "It's not like I'm gonna peer pressure you. This isn't high school. But, uh, try to relax. If anyone was gonna take a shot at you, they would've done it by now."

"Easy for you to say," John sighs.

It is easy for Nick to say, but he hopes John actually listens to him for once. He's not expecting miracles or anything, but if John's going to stick around, he's going to have to learn how to relax. Well — at least that's one learning curve that everybody is struggling with. Baby steps, right?

Nick leaves John alone for now; maybe he'll warm up into the idea of mending some metaphorical fences before everyone leaves, which would be ideal. For now, Nick goes back to the rest of the group, taking a few more sips as he listens to Carmina start to spin her own tall tales. Now that she's recognized the pattern in all of the stories the adults have been telling — larger-than-life enemies, intimidating names, lots of Foley work — she's attempting to match their vivid stories with a highly interpretive retelling about the turkey she saved her mom from a few months ago. The way she tells it, Nick would've expected the turkey she'd brought back to be at least the size of a car, but if Kim is playing into her part as a damsel in distress, Nick isn't going to ruin things by being the cynic realist.

They trade a few more stories. As they do, Kim takes a few extremely sour drinks of whatever the dark stuff is. She's been on hosting duty all day already, and Nick hasn't done much to help, getting tipsy right away with the rest of the guys like he had. But, with things starting to get late for a family of three, Nick decides it's his time to step up to the task of parenting.

Carmina hasn't had enough life experience to have many stories to share with the encouraging group of drunken manchildren, so once the attention turns to Tiny's story of his first swim after the world ended, Nick uses the out as a chance to usher her away.

"I think we oughta get you ready for bed," he tells Carmina, who boos under her breath but doesn't put up a fight, mostly because the story involves lots of nudity that she isn't at all interested in hearing about. Nick can't blame her — he doesn't wanna hear about Tiny almost getting his nuts bit off by a demon fish, either.

"Okay, but I want a good bed-time story," she demands, reasonably enough. Nick doesn't have anything as funny as Hurk's story, or anything as action-packed as Sharky's retelling of the first roadblock they encountered out on the road, but he has to at least try.

The good thing about Carmina not knowing anything about life before is that Nick can stretch some truths without repercussion. So when he tucks Carmina in, he decides to tell her the story of when she was born — this time, though, he doesn't leave out the roadblocks, or the deputy's shitty driving, or the narrowly-missed explosions. Couched in a long line of tall tales and exaggerated stories, Carmina doesn't believe most of the true stuff and only playfully believes in the bullshit.

Between Nick's bedtime-story voice and him gently stroking her hair, it's a wonder Carmina stays awake for as long as she does. Eventually, though, well before he finishes the story, she closes her eyes and finally stops resisting the chance for a good night's sleep. Nick stays put, lying next to her for a few minutes as he listens to the faint sound of conversation outside. He tries to make out the voices, to decipher who might be talking to who, but he only hears a dull hum.

He'll get up in a few minutes, go down and have a real drink with his wife for the first time in nine years, but the alcohol he's already had entices him to lie still just a little longer.

He doesn't know how long he dozes for, but when Nick is next aware of his surroundings, the light has changed in the room from the rising moon and the conversation outside has shifted in tone and pitch, the way any party might as it enters the late-night phase. Sitting up, Nick immediately knows he needs two things — more water, and one or two more swigs of that awful moonshine, just to keep the hangover from starting before he actually goes to bed.

The back porch is still wide open. The fire has died down, although it's still enough light to see by as Nick reappears. Kim sees him immediately, lifting a half-empty jar of dark liquid in his direction and waving him down with her free hand.

"This one is much better," she tells him as he approaches, holding out the jar. Well, Nick isn't about to reject his wife's kind offer, although he immediately regrets it when he takes a swig.

" Ugh ," he chokes around the harsh burn, feeling it drain all the way back into his throat. "That tastes like paint thinner!"

"Trade secret!" Hurk exclaims, adding immediately after, "Not that there's any paint or thinner in there, or anythin'. Nope. It's 100% organic malt liquor!"

Nick has no idea how Hurk would manage to find barley, but sure, he'll buy it. Another sip doesn't do any better, and to his surprise, he realizes that he actually prefers the moonshine.

As he hands the jar back, Nick does a quick head-count, coming up two short. "Uh, where's John?" he asks.

"Oh," Kim says. She points towards the hangar. "We needed firewood," she says. "Except, eventually, we really needed firewood. I sent Sharky to get some." It seems like only when she says it does she realize what a bad idea it is. "Well, we were in the middle of something, and I was distracted," she explains reluctantly.

"I wasn't," Grace utters next to her.

Kim rolls her eyes. "You should go check on them. I mean, it's fine. But maybe you should, anyway."

Nick looks over at the hangar. There aren't any lights to speak of out here, but Nick can see the glow of the lantern through the open doorway, shadows moving around behind the worn-out wall. "Yeah," he agrees, turning and heading across the wash. He only thinks of grabbing a drink for the journey after he starts walking, but he's already halfway there and he doesn't have time to turn around and come back.

Sharky appears in the doorway, forcing Nick to pull up short to avoid running into him. He looks — fine? There's too much beard and too little light to see his expression clearly, but Sharky doesn't seem phased in the least to find Nick in his way. He passes by Nick with a few logs under one arm, patting Nick heavily on his shoulder with his free hand.

"It's cool, bro," he says, "We're all good."

"Uh... okay," Nick replies, deeply unsure as Sharky casually heads back for the fire. Briefly worrying that he might find John knocked out on the ground, Nick tries not to stress out as he heads inside.

John is sitting on a discarded chopping block by the woodpile, the lantern settled by his feet. Nick doesn't see any blood or a new black eye; just John, rolling a nearly-empty glass bottle between his palms as he drifts in thought.

Nick almost feels bad interrupting, but John catches sight of him before he can retreat undetected. He looks surprised — genuinely, openly surprised to see Nick standing there, sincerely confused when he says, "I thought you went to bed."

"And miss out on all the action?" Nick chuckles. He gestures at the bottle. "So much for your tolerance being shot, huh?" he teases.

"Oh, hmm?" John looks down at the bottle like he'd forgotten about it. "Only enough to get them off my back." He sighs, following it up with a swig that he barely winces through. "After all, saying no ain't my thing ." Nick isn't sure if that drawl is for sarcastic quotation purposes, or if John's had enough moonshine to play at being white trash. "Then again, I only quit drinking because of Joseph. No point resisting now."

"I guess," Nick agrees reluctantly. "Is that, uh, what you and Sharky were talking about?"

John rolls his eyes. "No," he says. He holds out the bottle, waiting until Nick takes it to elaborate. "Kim suggested they sleep out here tonight. He was making sure there's room."

"Oh." Nick takes a drink; maybe it's just the malt liquor talking, but now Nick can sort of taste the apple around the burn. He takes one more swig, just to make sure, then hands the bottle back. "Well, as long as he wasn't hassling you."

"No more than I deserve," John says. Nick must make some kind of face, because he sighs and placating adds, "It's fine, Nick. I'm more than capable of handling a few sarcastic comments from some hillbilly outlaw." He looks down, tipping the bottle a bit to swirl the moonshine inside.

"He... means well," he says eventually. "Everyone means well."

"You don't have to sound so bummed out about it."

John chuckles. It's the first time Nick's heard his laugh and not mistaken it for a cough or wheeze. "I don't mean to be," he says. He takes a drink and looks up at Nick with a... weird look on his face. Open. Genuine? Nick's not sure. But despite the topic, John's expression radiates a deep, contemplative peace. "It's more generosity than I can bear from people I genuinely thought of as the enemy."

He is definitely drunk. "Oh, boy," Nick sighs, reaching out for the bottle before John drops it or finishes it off himself. "To be fair, uh, it's easier to be nice to you since we won, and all."

"Oh, I do not doubt it." John relinquishes the drink, seemingly aware enough to admit, "I've had more than enough."

"I think everybody's had enough," Nick says, proving his own point by immediately regretting his next swig. "God damn . Okay, well — we should probably get some wood. I gotta feeling those guys are gonna be up for a while, and we wanna keep them happy."

John nods, but he doesn't rise from his spot. "Wait," he says when Nick goes to pass him, so Nick obligingly stops, raising an eyebrow at John's half-lifted hand.

"You have to understand," he says. "I'm not — I don't know how I'm supposed to express my gratitude towards you. With Joseph, with — well, everyone , I've always known how to express my loyalty. I knew what they expected from me, what would make them happy, what... wouldn't. But with you, with Kim... I don't know anything. I feel like a child. I don't know how that makes me feel, other than like an idiot."

He heaves a frustrated, heavy sigh, ducking his head towards his nervously entwined hands. "Just — thank you," he finishes miserably.

"Wow," Nick utters in response. He doesn't know what else to say, really, except the obvious, but he genuinely means it when he replies, "Well, you're welcome. Man, and here I always figured you were playing me for a sap."

John laughs, shaking his head. "Manipulation has never been my strong suit," he admits. "I'm too heavy-handed for that crap. Intimidation and brute force, on the other hand..." He lets out a relieved sigh. "Thank God I was too sick to revel in my self-destruction."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't have to shoot you," Nick chuckles. "Sorta would've gone against everything I'm trying to build, you know?"

"I do now," John says. "I only wish I'd realized it before the end of the world."

"Hey, the world hasn't really ended," Nick points out. "There's still a whole left to do." He gestures towards the woodpile. "We can start by making sure Kim doesn't leave me for the raiders giving her free alcohol."

John stands, shaking his head as if he could clear the smile from his face. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, not until they figure out how to brew a decent beer. Kim was going without for the baby. She probably would've murdered me if it meant she could've had a case of Newcastle in the bunker for a few months there."

Then again, she had also been freaking out about the nuclear apocalypse occurring above-ground, so Nick really should cut her more slack.

"You definitely have nothing to worry about," John reiterates. "But fine. No more back-talk."

"Yeah, fat chance of that. C'mon, give me a hand."

Nick leaves the bottle on the chopping block and utilizes John's uncanny strength, loading him up with an armful of wood before taking a few logs for himself, to give the appearance of helping. John doesn't complain, which isn't unusual by itself, but tonight it feels like genuine complacency, not just something he's doing to survive. And when they return to the fire, dropping off the wood for Mud and Tiny to utilize, John doesn't retreat to the safety of the other side of the fire. He instead lingers by Nick, going so far as to play along whenever Kim asks him questions, just to make him feel included. He, unlike Nick, is smart enough to refuse any more of the malt liquor Kim's taken a liking to, but he holds the jar for show from time to time, just to keep Hurk happy. In a weird way, Nick feels like he can actually see John taking those wobbly steps Kim is always hoping to see, and even weirder than that, the anxiety that maybe he's making a mistake fails to manifest, leaving Nick with a warm, fuzzy feeling that could very well be pride.

[profanetools]

what draws/drew you to the tes series? most of your thoughts on characters and lore seem to be based on your rewritten universe and in general, it seems like you don’t care for the existing lore of tes/morrowind. i’m just curious if there’s a particular reason that you’re attached to the tes universe conceptually as opposed to taking your rewritten/headcanoned tes worldbuilding and applying them instead to an original story/universe that would inherently be more to your tastes from the beginning

i meant to answer this this morning (i received this at 6am) and i apologise for the delay but this deserve a full response. i apologise for the meandering nature of this reply.

i think this is a fair question but two things deserve to be considered:

1. what is ‘lore’?

2. what does being a fan of a series entail?

regarding the first question, i have just an atrocious memory for facts and figures. i regularly forget what is commonly considered ‘common knowledge’ amongst lore buffs; largely because lore buffs pride themselves on remembering facts - something i am just not skilled at. i forget the fiction beyond the general details and end up making shit up based on a presumption that turns out to be wrong - that’s something that happens all the time. it’s a demoralising experience to be constantly corrected on what is assumed to be common knowledge - even though i fail to actually retain that information 9 times out of 10 - so i largely post with warnings like ‘this isn’t canon compliant!’ because I can’t really be doing with being correct on minutiae when that isn’t the point of what i’m trying to express.

what i am trying to explain - badly - is that lore is often reduced to a recollection of facts without really a depth of understanding of other aspects of the fiction. for example, i think the strength of a lot of RPGs in particular is that it actively invites the viewer to contribute and complete the fiction by creating their own characters and narratives using the skeleton of the world. RPGs are not a fictional narrative with one authority figure - an auteur in cinematic terms - dictating  how things go (no matter what MK tells himself, lmao). that is as important as the history established (through second hand accoutns, no less) of the fiction. the player completes the lore with their own interpretation of events; it is not a one sided view of things. furthermore, i think people tend to view lore as a collection of facts and fail to acknowledge the themes and emotional ressonance that a selection of incomplete second hand accounts may possess. i am a big fan of the lore in so much as the first council is about themes of loss, themes of tragedy, themes of compromise, and what that entails, politically, and an exploration of betrayal and trying to do the best while under threat, while besieged by enemies, with the looming threat of colonisation and conquest by enemies is at one’s door. i adore  the themes of Morrowind - i adore the dreamlike narrative, i adore the questioning one is invited to do as a player when playing the game. i adore how much agency it gives you in figuring out an ending to the question it poses - are you nerevar? are you more than your past life? what does it mean to be ‘nerevar incarnate’? have you risen to standard? have you defied it?

i am a fan of the fiction. perhaps i am not a fan of the lore in so much as it is a set of facts but certainly, regarding morrowind i am a fan in how much it invites the reader to give their own input and contribution and really that is in large part what i am offering here. my own input and contribution. in fairness, this is based on the backbone of other headcanons others more knowledgable annd well versed in the facts have provided, but part of the reason i talk about the lore in the way i do is because i just do not think the actual facts of the fiction are not necessarily the most important thing. i think the feeling and the mood and the sense of mystery and the general ambience is as important to the lore. and perhaps i do not capture that mystery in my writing but i certainly try and capture that sense of tragedy at least.

referring to question two now:

2. what does being a fan of a series entail?

this isn’t the first time i have been asked ‘why don’t i make my own original universe?’. i used to be a big fan of the star wars series and i used to engage in a similar way; inventing my own AUs, playing fast and loose with canon, ignoring what i didn’t like, and so on. because ultimately, and this ties in with question 1, i think we have a tendency to try and... since the creation of copyright and the idea of writing as Property of One Author, we look down upon interpretations and perceptions of existing universes, we ask, ‘dude you have so many ideas why can’t you make your own universe?’ and creative response to existing fictional works has been discouraged because of copyright infringement, and it has been lowered to a secondary realm of fiction-making, fanfiction. there is a certain level of judgement there, in that fanfiction is almost certainly low literature, and that is unfair because previously there have been several creative responses to fictional unverses, taking elements of the fiction and completely ditching others and spinning them their own way, Arthurian legend perhaps being the most well known example in literature written in English, but hardly the only one.

what I am trying to express is what I am doing is not actually that novel, i am taking and choosing elements i like to create my own thing, and perhaps yes i will pick and choose and write my own novel from it, but why must i have to? is it not enough to exist in the same universe? is it not enought to grapple with the same themes, the same underlying ideas, about what it means to be mortal or not, what it means to be loyal or not, how much does a betrayal cost? even if i am working under my own framework that rejects some bullshit writing, why should i have tocreate my own universe, when there are so many references buried deep to different historical events in-universe, why should i have to extrapolate that? how the fuck do i explain Lorkhan outside of the context of the elder scrolls? why should i have to do that?

i think in part some of this comes from a lack of confidence in my own worldbuilding, if i am honest, i don’t know if i would be able to create a fully fleshed out world beyond some silly idealistic commie fantasy. a lot of my characters are an extension of me and lean in a certain way and i don’t know if i’d be able to create more than a personal story and i don’t knwo if i’d be able to create a whole world. in part that’s why i rely on fanfction. because it does that work for me and i can just focus on the parts i like.

but also like. i can enjoy the fiction thematically - and i adore morrowind, thematically, and i try to replicate that, thematically - without paying fervent attention to the facts. and the fact that i create what seem like to be whole fictional world offshoots does not mean i should translate that to an original setting.

i hope this answer isn’t too confusing and that this answer has clarfied some things for you anon.

[aphmau-shalashaskas-dayjob]

I am currently working on an Aphmau Au atm. This is a placeholder ((aphmau’s design will change)) But here’s the gist. Its kinda an RPG au? Like it works similarly to delta rune, or Persona 5 where there are 2 worlds. One where you fight and one where you improve your relationships with people and like talk and stuff.  The other worlds name is Gamvrasia If I do write the au I’ll do like 5 different versions. ((Also Ein Aphmau & Claire are just the potential starter crew. You get ALOT more party members)) All 3 versions will have a VERY different story and a different Aphmau. In any case in the first version I’ll be working on ((I’ll just copy paste my amino post Here are some sibling headcanons for Aphmau and...Ein in an au where they were raised together ((taking some ideas from https://aminoapps.com/c/aphmauamino/page/user/queenofmelons-einchancultleader-danviscult/x46z_L7iof3aWYBv0Ydg1wX6ZZZX2kplD& https://aminoapps.com/c/aphmauamino/page/user/alice-on-elm-street-teamein/76jn_dXTBfGp5XpJJqGkP6o5eN8qPRlPD )) ((Like Eins parents being missing so he's raised by Sylvanna, and Ein dying Aphmaus hair, ect))

- Werewolves don't exist 

-Forever potions don't exist

- Ultimas don't exist

- Meifwa don't exist

- Witches don't exist

FOR THE SHALASHASKA FAMILY

- Ein is overprotective and will fite any boy who tries to court Aphmau.

- Ein & Sylvanna once plotted against Aaron together

.- Ein used to bully Aphmau when they were younger but doesn't really anymore

-Sylvanna put Ein into Aphmau's life at the age of about 5. Ein was 4 years old at the time. And he had nobody in his family with the money to take care of him. Sylvanna being a saint took him in. Claire came into Aphmau’s life a bit later when she was 7 Claire was 8 

- Ein loves photography and has an entire collection of still life photo & landscape photo's that he scribbled on with crayon

- Aphmau is the stronger then Ein. She had to get tough to keep this boy in line.- Aphmau's older and loves her baby brother to bits....even if he can be a little bit of a dick sometimes he's still..her baby brother. But Claire’s the strongest sibling

- Aphmau sometimes gives Ein huggle attacks and he either hates them or severely appreciates them depending on his mood.

- Ein styles Aphmau's hair all the time for her. He loves doing it. Most of the time he does what she likes which is giving it an ombre purple. ((Though he thinks she should get streaks))

- Aphmau is similarly protective over Ein and once threatened both Ein & Aaron to not hurt each other telling Aaron "If you hurt my baby brother I will beat you to death with your own bloody femurs" and telling Ein "If you hurt my boyfriend I will break your kneecaps"

- Aphmau loves painting Eins face, Claire will never let Aphmau paint her face. 

- Ein is completely fine with Aphmau painting his face. He wears whatever look she gives him with pride. No matter how stupid it is. If you make fun of it he will DESTROY you for making fun of his little sister's work

- The Ein & Aphmau rough house sometimes but not very severely. More like playfighting if anything. Claire usually just avoids the fighting or hides

- When they were younger Aphmau would always play the villain while Ein played the hero. Ein was a bratty kid that always wanted to be a hero since he loves being in the spotlight. Claire would be the Damsel in distress. She thoroughly enjoyed playing the princess

 - Aphmau sometimes paints Ein's nails and does his make up. He is her testing dummy. he's fine with this. As long as he gets to do her make up. Claire Also lets Aphmau do her make up. As long as she follows her instructions - Aphmau was shitty at being a villain

- Ein got a tattoo (on his butt) and never told Sylvanna about it. She still doesn't know to this day

- Ein & Sylvanna talk shit about Aaron behind his back all the time. They also do it in front of his face!

- Ein was the one who got Aphmau into Gaming, Sylvanna had bought him a game console before Aphmau because...he was a boy and Sylvanna didn't think Aphmau would be interested and Ein loved it. Aphmau would always watch him and try to get Ein to teach her how to play the games he had. He did of course. Aphmau believes if Ein had never gotten her into gaming she would have never met Aaron..this isn't true of course but. Yeah

-Claire Has that big sister pride. And enjoys being in charge 

- Ein's into photography

- Ein can't spell for the life of him and is horribly dyslexic

- Aphmau's entire bloodline has a tendency to get overprotective ((whether it be from jealousy or not. You don't hurt their children/siblings. Just the ones she's blood related to though. ))

- Claire likes smooth Jazz and Tea

- Zack has like 20 kids and only knows like 3 of there names. Ein isn't the first child born from an affair he had and Ein won't be the last.

-  Claire is one of those babies. ((She's a canon character watch the fnaf rp. (Also it appears to be an au of Mystreet possibly since Laurence is present in one of Aphmaus photos )))

- Claire hates horror movies and is absolutely terrified of anthropomorphic animals.

- Claire  has depression and honestly has a hard time getting up in the morning

- Claire often falls for horrible people and has bad tastes in men. She has had her heart broken many times

- Claire had a stillbirth baby in the past. it was a boy. The death of this baby kickstarted her depression

- Aphmau babies Ein sometimes because when he was a little kid he had to be pampered and she can't get out of that thinking style for the life of her.

- Ein has a therapist he goes to who helps him with his problems. He has medications he has to take to keep him calm and such. Without them he becomes slightly creepier to be around...only slightly- Ein eventually warms up to Aaron over time. alongside Sylvanna

- Ein is a furry and he got a fursuit one-day Aphmau is okay with this cause it makes him happy

- Aaron is disturbed by it and Aphmau once called him out for fursecution. And lectured him for hours on it

- Ein broke Aphmau's game boy when they were little. It was an accident but still

- Ein gets really passionate about things and has a tendency to obsess. He can get lost in fantasy for hours on end.  He is very obsessive.

- Ein disliked Garroth for some time....until Garroth took off his shirt. Then he liked him all of a sudden. Aphmau was very weirded out by how fast Eins mind changed.

- Ein sometimes has mini panic attacks when Aphmau goes out on dates.  he realizes he can't intervene but he can't help but worry. He knows what monsters are like and he doesn't want Aphmau to get hurt by one.

- If you break Aphmau's heart Ein will come for you with an ax, & Claire will post nasty things about you on the internet

- Aphmau is slightly more violent in this au. Ein had some influence on her as a kid. It's not by a lot though. She just has very harsh threats

- Ein makes sure Aphmau can protect herself, They have workout days were they get BEEFY!

- Aphmau worries about Eins future constantly and often has nightmares about it. Sylvanna does too sometimes but less.

- Aphmau can be super sweet at some points but suddenly enter drill sergeant mode if you're acting like a little kid. She uses tough love and gentle guidance. She uses both when she sees fit.

- Aphmau paints Eins nails and does his make up sometimes. He enjoys it. it's fun for him.

- Aphmau Wears prescription glasses. and is the big nerd of the group

- when Aphmau was 7 Ein sent someone to the hospital. This was around the time when he started taking meds. It was important 

- Zoey was their babysitter who is ((4 years younger than them)) 

- Ein & Zane never get along. ((Zane thinks Ein is a poser))

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

Alright now for some of the things in the Gamvrasia for the normal versions of them

- Team attacks are possible. You can use special moves with another party member 

- Summoning is also possible. But only if your not related ((You’d summon a “Child” like If Aphmau and Aaron did a summon it’d be Alina, If Aphmau and Laurence did a summon it’d be Malachi, If Aphmau and Garroth did a summon it’d be Levin, so on so forth. )) The summon vanishes after the battle. And the summon has the appearance of an adult - Ein gains Wolf ears in the combat world and he is very happy about that Very excited

- Aphmau gains bunny ears in this world 

- Aphmau is a species called a Ouinca. ((They are buny people)) the only ability they generally have is the ability to run really fast.

- Claire Gets cat ears 

- Ein howled and Aphmau was very confused. Just because you gain animal ears doesn’t mean you gain their tendencies. Ein’s just howling cause he wants to be a dog furry.

- Claire has the highest attack, she has low defence though, she Also has HORRIBLE magic attack. She has higher speed then Ein 

- Aphmau has medium defense, higher attack then Ein, alot of Sp, and alright magic. Her stats can change and you can improve them manually (She’s the only one you can do this with. The others stats are predetermined ((Unless your counting Armor and stuff)). Aphmau has the highest speed 

- Ein Has high magic attack, High defense, but also the lowest attack out of the 3. This does NOT mean he’s weak, however. 

- Most of Eins attacks are magic ones, Though he does have a few attacking moves. Some being really brutal. But he usually just shoots lasers at you or little blasts.  - Aphmau has alot of healing spells, but she also has some fire spells. Her attacks are really fast and Jumpy 

-  Claires Attacks are really direct, and they hit hard. She has little to no magic spells, But she does have some...distracting moves. It’s not really magic though but she can drag attention to herself very easily. And lower her enemies stats

- In Gamvrasia Aaron becomes a werewolf (Obviously) same with Melissa and pretty much any other natural born werewolf in the Aphmau series

- Garroth becomes a Giant in the Gamvrasia. he gains the ability to shrink and Grow ((He can grow and shrink various parts of his body)) but the smallest he can get his body is the proportions of a 6'5 man.  ((garroth has the highest defence))

- Betty becomes a candy person in the Gamvrasia , She likes sucking on her fingers. The pink of her skin is much darker than the Salmon of her hair. Making it pop out alot more

- Laurence becomes a zombie in the Gamvrasia

- Their are 100

- In the normal world Aphmau has glasses, & her hair is down. While in the Gamvrasia she has no glasses but has a big purple bow at the back of her head with a ponytail

- Katelyn becomes a mermaid in the Gamvrasia, when on land her tail turns into scaly legs. ((They do this when they become dry enough))

- Zane is a vampire in the Gamvrasia

- Kawaii~chan and the other Meifwa are what you expect them to be in Gamvrasia

- Kawaii~Chan is more or less a mage in Gamvrasia, She controls a variety of dolls & can basically create her own little fighters that can fight for her or be turned into energy for her team. But by herself her stats are horrible.

- Aaron is younger . He's about 1 year older than aph

- Gene also becomes a vampire in the Gamvrasia

- Kim becomes a fairy in Gamvrasia, In the normal world Kim's design is that of her pre season 4 look, But while she's in the Gamvrasia she loses her need for glasses.

- When you switch from the Normal world to Gamvrasia your actually switching bodies with your Gamvrasia counterpart

- The Gamvrasia counterparts (Or vessels)) were never supposed to be conscious in the first place but because of ____ are

- The Gamvrasia are mostly not very nice. Some are though, most of them aren't horrible. But they can be rude

- I’ll probably make entire pages for each of the gamvrasia peeps. 

- Solving problems in the Rpg/combat world fixes problems in the normal world as well, Some monsters in the combat world or even normal people can affect real world people near their area. If 2 people are fighting somewhere in the Gamvrasia, People will begin feeling uneasy around that area in the real one, and accidents will become more frequent. Large scale monster attacks in Gamvrasia can cause Natural disasters, Terrorist attacks, Car crashes, Fires, Mass murder, Potentially genocide, Bombings, Ect.

-There are 5 chosen legendary hero’s in gamvrasia, each one specializing in a certain stat. Having the highest ___ stat of the cast. These heroes are Aphmau, Aaron, Garroth, Travis, & Kalzul. 

- I’ll talk more about Gamvraisia and their counterparts in a future post

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

The shadow Knights & Aaron 

Aaron & Melissa are slightly closer to their parents. 

Derek is less “NO TALKING TO ANYONE” to his son. since Ultima’s don’t exist

Aaron had a rebellious phase for a little bit. Derek absolutely hated it. 

The shadow knights was founded by Aaron when he was like 13-14 when he started it I think He's 17 currently in the Au. It started out as this big Gang who did whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Over time the number of Shadow Knights dwindled people mainly left due to being disinterested, Being kicked out, or getting themselves killed trying to do something "hardcore" ((The death was a big wake up call for alot of the members which led them to kinda...leave))

Aaron - The leader of the Shadow Knights, left after some time due to disinterest, & Guilt over indirectly getting Glenda Killed. He was not quite as nice as he is now during that point in time. Aaron also just became...too mature for alot of the childish games the Shadow Knights played which was another reason why he left.

Gene - Second in command. Aarons right hand man, & one of the big recruiters of the shadow knights. He's more of the jack of all trades in the group, being able to spraypaint, Fight, Get good deals on..things, & Being able to forge doctors notes as well. He usually carries a knife around with him.   He became the leader after Aaron Left.

Sasha - You know how sasha is. She mainly just uses the Shadow knights as a cool place to hang out. She's also the best at stealing shit. One of the last three members

Zenix - Do you need explosives? well you came to the right guy! They never really use Explosives on people-...but they do blow up cars, in like desolate area’s. He stuck by Gene & Sasha after everyone else left. They are having trouble getting new members.

Zane - A kid Aaron recruited that the others aren't quite fond of. He immediately got kicked out as soon as Gene became leader. Gene's loss.

Amethyst - An old lady that can kick your ass in 7 different ways. She eventually left for probably obvious reasons...like being old, and being really sweet. And being like super sweet too sweet for the shadow knights. ((its not like she doesn't have a dark side though)) She's dead now.

Glenda - The shadow knight that died. She got herself killed trying to preform a really "HARDCORE" stunt. The rest of the shadow knights hid her body and never really told anyone what happened to her. The guilt eats at alot of the other members to this day.

Alexis - A really spunky lil kid with a LOT of moxie. She's a little girl with a gun. She really should not have a gun where are her parents omfg((Aaron usually took it away from her, or made sure it wasn't loaded...she didn't know that though. Eventually he switched it out for a fake and got rid of the old one. She never really pulled the trigger so she didn't notice.))- She left after getting caught and grounded. Laurence - He left after Glenda got herself killed. He blames most of the other shadow knights for not trying to stop her. ((when he did)) and hates a few of them((Like Aaron)) thinking of them as killers.

Vincint - One of the other shadow knights that left due to the death of Glenda. That and he was just...disinterested. he became apathetic towards the motto of the shadow knights and just kinda...leftTheir are a few other members scattered about. But the only ones stationed in Magisarav ((The town they live in)) are Gene, Sasha, & Zenix. Laurence really doesn’t like him.

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

The Gamvraisa vessels 

A vast majority of them are assholes, that want to destroy humanity. 

- Gamvraisia Aphmau seems nice. 

- Gamvrasia Ein is more like mystreet Ein. Even to the point where he wants to bone his sister. ((Though he doesn’t really view Gamvrasia aphmau as his sister, in his words   " Oh come on. It's not like we're related by blood or anything? The only thing linking us together as "Siblings" is the relationship between the two of us in the humans world, It's not like we have parents or anything. I really don't see why your so adamant about defining us as such." )) 

^ Gamvraisa Aphmau is Grossed out by this.

- He also has an entire freaking city that he enslaved that's named. Ein city, he isn't very creative at naming things. in the center of a city is a giant gold statue of him with a golden crown and Aphmau leaning up against him. ((Aphmau is also a werewolf in that statue, theirs no real way to turn her into one normally though))  I think the best way for me to showcase his personality is through shitposts though.

- Gamvrasia Aaron on the other hand is Gamvrasia Aphmau’s Ex who wants to kill her. For a variety of reasons

Gamvrasia Garroth steals all the time, and uses his size to get away with things. 

Gamvrasia Zane ...is just diaries zane tbh. Without the royalty. 

I’ll go more into the indivisual Characters later. 

And that’s all, for now, I hope you like the au

[moonchildjoonie]

Shattered [Prologue]

Parts:  Prologue │ 1 │

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Post Apocalyptic / Fallout!au / Fluff / Angst

Summary: “Okay princess,” he began a mocking tone laced into his words “so you're telling me you want me to go on a wild goose chase to find your friend, who was most likely lunch to a Super mutant?”

Though his thick brows were covered by his wavy dark hair you could still see them raised in question. Clenching your jaw you looked at Nochu in the eye.

“Listen here, you muscled pig.” You began jabbing a finger into his built chest as you stood your ground glaring at the handsome smirking man ahead of you “I did not kill a whole camp of raiders and risk my life in your fucking trap infested hideout for you to tell me this bullshit. Are you going to take my fucking money and help me find my friend or not?”

Or

In which you leave the comfortable safe life of the vault and lose your best friend only to hire a conceited mercenary with trust issues.

Warning: This is a fallout!au and for those who never heard of Fallout, it’s a post apocalyptic rpg game with dark themes. So this series will have mentions of death, blood, gore, bigotry, drug abuse, mental illness, sexual / nonsexual abuse, swearing, etc. So if you are not comfortable with anything mentioned above please DO NOT read this series.

A/N: I’m thinking about making a post on Fallout items descriptions and definitions for those of you who have never played the games. Please let me know if you’d like me to do so. 

The outside was an enigma to you, but it was what entranced you the most about the Wasteland. The Great War ended after the bombs dropped and the outside world had been uninhabitable. The only survivors were those who paid monthly installments to a reserve a place for themselves, and their families, in the vaults.

Vaults being underground building equipped with construction equipment, hydro-agricultural farms, water purification systems, defensive weaponry, communication systems, surface monitors, social / entertainment files and anything else needed to survive in case of a nuclear attack. Vaults were what kept humanity alive for hundreds of years after the bombs fell and irradiated the land. Those lucky enough to have access to one learned to enjoy their privileged lives no matter how mundane it was to live life underground. You, on the other hand, had dreamed of the day you could escape the tedious lifestyle of the vault.

You always hoped for something more than life underground. You wanted adventure and thrill, not the same repetitive dreary lifestyle you were living. Growing up you loved hearing the stories your father use to tell about life outside the vault. Of course, he didn't know it firsthand, but he had read it from one of his ancestor's diaries before it had been confiscated by the previous Overseer.

In vaults you were taught to obey the Overseer. It was the most important rule to follow. The Overseer being the leader of the vault and most often than not a dictator. Anything they say goes no matter how unfair.

The Overseer during your grandfather's time wanted all old-world remnants removed in hopes that no one would try to leave the vault. Though in time fights broke out between those who believed they had the right to leave and those who believed the vault doors should remain shut for all their safety. After years of problems between the two groups and the change of Overseers an agreement was made. Every 20 years the vault doors open to allow those, 18 years and older, who want to leave to do so. It minimized the amount of radiation and threats that could enter the vault but also gave a choice, to leave, to every generation. You knew what you wanted since the age of seven when you snuck into the Overseer's room and took the restricted old-world books. The next time the vault doors opened you would be, 20, free to make the choice to leave. You had nothing holding you back, you were the sort of kid who constantly got into trouble and had parents tell their children to stay away from you. Which led you to not have any friends other than an older boy who went by the name of Jin. His full name was Kim Seokjin, but he always told everyone to call him Jin. He was popular in the vault with his charismatic personality and attractive appearance, but he always spent his free time with you. The first time you met him was during one of your many trips to the infirmary. His mother was the vault doctor and he, often than not, was in the infirmary helping his mother with miscellaneous tasks. While you, on the other hand, spent a lot of your time in the infirmary due to constantly being injured either by your tinkering or by getting into a fight with one of the many kids in your class. Seokjin practically became your older brother looking after you and making sure you weren't getting into too much trouble. By age 16 everyone in the vault is forced to take the G.O.A.T, or the generalized occupational aptitude test, to determine what job you qualify for. Personally you enjoyed more hands-on jobs compared to mental work. In the end, you ended up as the vaults technician which you didn't absolutely hate for the four years you did it. Now at age 20, the day had come. The day the vault doors would open once again. A smile graced your features as you stood in front of the large vault doors. Rocking on the balls of your feet you were excited for the adventure that awaited you outside the giant slab of metal. Glancing to your left you looked at your partner's anxious face. Biting on his full bottom lip in worry, his eyes met yours in hopes you would change your mind. On his back sat a bag full of all the essential items to survive water, nonperishable food, medication, change of clothes, a blanket, a few holotapes to record on, and other little items that held sentimental value. You had the same packed in a bag of your own, give or take, with a bit more ammo stuffed into your bag for protection. Taking his large hand in yours you gripped it tight trying to convey some kind of comfort to the older boy. "Jinnie you don't have to come with me you know. I told you multiple of times I can take care of myself. Have been for years now." You said smiling softly at the taller boy.

Seokjin scoffed rolling his eyes at you. His grip on your hand growing stronger. "Liar who's been patching you up since you were seven? I don't trust medication in your hands." Tugging on your joined hands his eyes met yours and he gave you a serious look "I could never let you go on your own." Staring at you fondly his hand patted the top of your head "You're my cute younger sibling and it's too late to get rid of me." Seokjin jokingly added shrugging his wide shoulders. Seokjin often hid his emotions behind jokes and smiles. You knew him well enough to know he was afraid of what lies behind the closed vault doors. His fingers drummed against his thigh as he kept biting down on his plump lower lip. Both obvious signs that he was nervous. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. You would love to have Seokjin join you on your adventure out into the wasteland, but you would never force him to go with you. The two of you had multiple disputes during the months leading to this day. You could always see his hesitation, but he always ended the argument with a firm "I'm going with you whether you like it or not. I don't care how sick of me you get I'm not leaving your side." "Seokjin" you called out straightening out your posture to show how serious you were "I know you said you're coming with me, but I want to give you this last chance to back out before the door opens. This has been my dream since I was a little girl, but this was never yours. Please think this through once more." You hoped he would agree to join you on this adventure but part of you also wanted him to choose to stay. You knew he never planned on leaving the vault like you did Seokjin prioritized practicality and safety. He found that in the vault not out into the unknown behind the vault doors. You were not going to take it away from him unless he was positive about his choice of joining you on your adventure. Jin let out a long sigh before interlacing your fingers together. "We are in this together. Like a package deal okay? We're going to say goodbye to my mom who's waiting over there for us," he signaled with a nod of his head in his mother direction "and we're going to walk out of the place and show the wasteland we aren't to be messed with." Seokjin exclaimed a large smirk playing on his lips as he tugged you over to his mother. Standing tall she waited by the controls that open the door. A faraway look rested on her tired face. You don't recall when she began to look so worn. To you she always looked beautiful and strong. She constantly emitted an air of confidence in her infirmary with her proper straight posture, long black locks always pulled up in a tight bun and her lips pulled in a soft smile. Her hands were always soft as she checked you over and patched you up. Her movements slow and careful making sure her patients were comfortable and never in too much pain. She was the kindest person throughout the whole vault. Though today was different her hair was thrown into a messy bun that was threatening to fall out its hair tie. Her usual clear skin had dark bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep and worry lines on her forehead. It never dawned on you how much stress this day must have caused the doctor. Her only son leaving never to be seen again. This was her final day to see her son alive and well. Her affectionate gaze turned towards you and her son. A soft smile pulled at the ends of her lips as she met the both of you halfway. Seokjin unlaced your fingers and reached out to his mother who quickly pulled him into a tight hug. His tall height and broad shoulders engulfed his mother's smaller build. Her arms held tightly at his thin waist and her face pressed into his shoulder as they embraced for the final time. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you watched their emotional farewell. They were holding back their tears afraid of breaking the other's heart more than it already was. Silently they took in one another. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest knowing you were the cause of their separation. Seokjin loved his mother with all his heart doing all in his power to help lessen her load in the infirmary and making sure she didn't feel lonely when his father returned late. His father being the Overseer of the vault made him spend most of his time in his office figuring out how to make the vault more efficient and comfortable for the dwellers. Seokjin and his mother having a close bond full of trust. They always believed in each other's judgment no matter the circumstance. It was clear the doctor didn't question her son's choice in leaving only making peace with it. Pulling apart, Seokjin and his mother held each other's hands tightly as they exchanged some words. Sorrowful smiles played on their lips taking in each other's appearance. Before separating Seokjin's mother pulled him down to place a kiss on his forehead. Running her thin fingers through his hair a few times before turning to look at you. Her eyes glistened in the light with unshed tears as she walked over to you Seokjin following close behind her. Reaching out for you she pulled you into a tight hug. "Y/N please take care of each other okay?" her usual soft voice was slightly hoarse due to her suppressing the sobs that threatened to pass her lips. "I love you and wish you luck on your adventures honey." Pulling back her dark eyes met yours. Softly she threaded her fingers through your hair. Taking a shaky breath, you tried to swallow down the lump rising in your throat. You didn’t think about how difficult leaving would be. When you thought back then there was nothing holding you back. You had no friends, other than Seokjin who continually told you he was leaving with you, and you had no family. Your mother passed away while you were 7. It was one of the factors to your rebellious actions. Some of your classmates teased you for not having a mother and others stayed quiet in fear of being bullied as well. Ten years later your father passed away only a few months after your 17th birthday. It hurt but it gave you more of a reason to leave the vault. It never occurred to you how much you would actually miss Seokjin's mother. She treated you with the love and care she would for her own child. With your mind so set on leaving you never factored in Seokjin's mother as a reason not to leave. Now with a few minutes left till the thick vault doors open you were being hit by the blunt force of what your choice entailed. Not only were you leaving behind the difficult times but the happy times you spent in the infirmary with the Kim's. You're leaving behind the time you spent with your father tinkering with the radio and other objects he found. You were leaving behind the only thing you knew for 20 years. Trying to blink back the tears burning in the back of your eyes you took one of her hands in yours. "Thank you, Mr. Kim, for everything you did for me." you faltered with a weak smile lifting at your lips. A smile lite up on her face as grabbed Seokjin, with her free hand, and tugs the two of you back into an embrace. "Take care of each other okay?" She softly says her voice trembling. "I won't be able to look over you two anymore so make sure you eat. Seokjin won't forget but I know when something catches your interest you forget everything else." Seokjin's mother fretted with a soft chuckle. "Seokjin try out new things be a little more daring. I know you like to be safe and you aren't a fan of taking risks but you're heading to a new place, seeing new things, and meeting all kinds of people. I want you to know you made the right choice leaving the vault and enjoy life out there okay?" Pulling back slightly she glance at both you and Seokjin. Her bright smile contrasted with the wet trail of tears on her cheeks. "I love you both so much. Take care and make the most out of the adventure you two or going to have. It might get difficult. There may be times you regret your choice and during those times support each other like you two always have." The doctor gave you two one last squeeze before pulling away completely. "5 minutes till we open the vault door!" Call out the security guard at the controls. The sudden yell caused Seokjin to stiffen and quickly turn in the direction of the security guard. A shaky chuckle left his lips, as he turned back to look at both you and his mother, an embarrassed look crossing his face. Both you and his mother glanced at each other in amusement. "You're going to have to work on that honey." The doctor chortled teasingly. Patting his shoulder softly his mother made her way back over to her spot next to the security guard. Goosebumps pricked at your skin as a sense of nervousness flowed through you. Running your hand through your hair a few times you took a deep breath trying to relax. This was what you had been waiting years for. The chance to experience something new and live a more fulfilling life. No longer would you have to sit around and wait till something needed to be fixed. You had a whole world of new experiences waiting for you outside the large looming door of the vault. The soft brush of a hand against yours broke you out of your thoughts. Looking up you met the tender gaze of Seokjin. His gentle smile calmed your pounding heart. Taking a deep breath, you stood tall a confident smile pulled at the ends of your lips. Interlacing your hand with Seokjin's the both of you looked towards the flashing lights of the vault door. The last thing you could remember was the blaring alarms notifying the vault that the door had been opened once again and the warm sunlight against your skin.

It was the start of your new life.

[fantroll-purgatory]

Calvis Duvide - Troublesome Tyrant

@chaoticevilfantrolls

(Heard you were doin Trollsonas)

Planet: Alternia, AU where Cusp Bloods exist and are considered more or less average trolls, and the age of conscription is 10 sweeps.

Name:Calvis Duvide To be honest, Calvis doesn’t have much of a specific meaning, beyond being a preferred lengthening of my own name. Duvide comes from the term L'appel du Vide, which means Call of the Void in French. In psychology, L'appel du Vide is a term referring to the urge to do self-destructive things without a distinct cause, like the urge to swerve off the road while driving or to jump off of a high place. Additionally, Calvis is a void player who feels drawn to the void as a sort of comfort. 

Calvis is a good name and I definitely prefer to keep it around. Now… keep track o’ this leap of logic I’m going to do here to also justify it, but Calvis is also plural for Calvus, which can serve as a reference to Constantine Calvus, a Scottish monarch who attempted to change the rules of succession of the throne and who qualified as heir, which fits with some of Calvis’ behaviors. It can also be a reference to Altolamprologus calvus, a common aquarium fish. And, lastly, a reference to Cumulonimbus calvus, a type of cloud that can look a little, uh… eldritch, sometimes. 

Yay for retroactive justification!

Age:9.25 sweeps

Strife Specibus:This one is a little tricky. Because Calvis is a trollsona, I’m drawn to giving him either bladeKind or knifeKind, as those are actual real weapons that I own and am reasonably skilled with? But at the same time, something more thematically relevant like cardKind (tarot and playing cards) might be nice? 

I’ve also given him pipeKind before, using both a smoking pipe and also literal lead pipes ala Russia’s cane from Hetalia. That’s more relevant to a massive trollsona generator me and a friend of mine made that was based on the natal astrology chart.

I definitely think in the case of trollsonas, you should go with what you feel a draw towards. If you like blades, if you feel an affinity towards blades, I’d go with that. 

You could also do the very void player thing and not have a traditional strife specibus so to speak. You’ve got a character here who seems good at talking his way into things, and who’s good at justifying his logic and having a lot of information, so maybe he could primarily rely on talking instead of fighting? 

OR you could have him utilize the tooth he wears, since that’s a nontraditional weapon that relates to his title and because it could be utilized in a way that’s a nice callback to his/your interest in tabletop games. You could utilize it like a fear spell, an intimidation roll, or even something like vicious mockery or hideous laughter. Do that psychic damage, Calvis.

Fetch Modus:Polyhedral Modus 

Calvis’ items are stored in a set of polyhedral dice (1d4, 1d6, 1d8, 1d10, 1d%, 1d12, and 1d20). It’s sort of a relic from when he was much more into playing tabletop rpgs. It’s purely random what item he receives, which is why he puts items he retrieves more often in the lower-sided dice. Funnily enough, his modus becomes more troublesome to use the more he embraces his aspect, stepping away from fortune to accept the unknown and nebulous. 

So many spots in his sylladex are filled up with items based on former or current interests, among other things that he would rather just… hide from others in general. 

Oof, I’m imagining the frustrating ordeal of rolling a d4 and landing on 1 six times in a row.

Blood color:Violet-Fuchsia cusp. The blood color is based on a blood color test that determined a hexcode value from numerical values based on personality traits of each color group (red, green, and blue). He’s kind of in a tricky situation, being just below the cut-off for fuchsia, but definitely redder than most violets. 

In the session he’s from, he’s actually in a kismesitude with the proper fuchsia (seeing as they don’t have the biological imperative to kill each other, only really squabble like idiots), who has abdicated his position as heir and given it to Calvis.

Hmmmm… I’m going to go ahead and assume you’re talking au where the cusps are still viable instead of the more established canon, so that I won’t have to fiddle with this and ruin your good fun. 

If I were going to push it into the canon range, though, I would say that him just bein a standard violet who picks up the fuschia helm for his kismesis can work about as well. 

And if I were suiting him to your au  where dual blood traits present in trolls, I could definitely argue that with nowhere else to try to represent both sets of traits uniquely, his body just kinda fell in the middle.   

Symbol and meaning: A combination of Eris and Pittarius from the extended zodiac. Eris is the goddess of chaos and discord from Greek mythology. Eris is also the name of the second largest dwarf planet in the orbit of the sun, just after Pluto.

Erises’ ma is Nyx, The Night, which is extra fitting. Child Of The Night is a great way to describe a void player. The planet Eris is also part of The Shattered Disk, which sounds cool as hell, and also means the planet has high eccentricity. Relatable, really. 

Trolltag: cynicalTeuthida Cynical: Concerned only with one’s own interests and typically disregarding accepted or appropriate standards in order to achieve them. I mean. He kind of manipulated his kismesis into naming him the heir, just because he could. 

Teuthida: Name of the taxonomic order containing squids. Mostly a reference to his lusus and 100% absolutely wholesome appreciation of tentacles. 

I think we all need to wholesomely appreciate tentacles more, if I’m being honest. …But now I can’t stop thinking about Calvis having those weird New England Aquarium ad campaign posters hanging up in his room totally wholesomely. 

Quirk:Because Calvis is a trollsona, he has sort of a simple quirk, based primarily around my personal manner of typing.

He types in almost exclusively lowercase, only capitalizing the first letter of words to emphasize them. He also has a tendency to misspell things by cutting off the last letter or last couple of letters. He surrounds his text in pointed brackets, but otherwise uses little punctuation besides commas. Expect a lot of typos from him in general, which he won’t really bother fixing.

CT: <the quick brown fox jumpped over the lazy dog>

Hmm. I do like it but I wonder if something more tentacly might be fun. {like using curly brackets instead}. It’s not really a big enough deal to stress over, but just a thought. }}=o Also check it out I Just made a betta fish.

Special Abilities:Like most seadwellers, Calvis is ridiculously strong. Probably even more so than average, given that I myself, as a puny human being, can lift about 400 lbs. He’s also able to withstand changing between salt and fresh water, actually preferring the briny water in the lake surrounding his hive to anything else. 

The idea of an extra strong seadweller scares me because Feferi is capable of dragging a whale. 

Lusus: L'lythro, a minor eldritch being that lives in a fish tank in the underwater portion of Calvis’ hive. L'lythro is known as the Denizen of Madness, and the source of the horrible whispers that fill the forest surrounding Calvis’ hive. Because of L'lythro’s terrible mutterings, the forest is believed to be haunted or cursed, known for driving lowbloods to madness or worse. 

It’s hard to describe L'lythro as anything besides a graphical glitch in the universe, sometimes taking the form of an amorphous puddle of eyes, teeth, and slime, and sometimes taking the form of an abstract concept of patterns. Calvis doesn’t mind. He loves them no matter what nebulous and unknowable form they take. He actually wears one of L'lythro’s teeth on a chain as a necklace, which carries enough residual psychic discordance to give him an unsettling aura. 

…A fun fact here is that while trying to google this name I discovered a “fossil fighters” character named The Gore King. That’s not relevant I just had to share or the knowledge would eat at my mind forever. Anyways I like this, continuing the tradition of eldritch lusii pals.

Personality: The best way to describe Calvis is ‘ecclectic’. He finds it hard to focus directly on one pursuit or another, flipping from interest to interest to endeavor to interest. Even now, as he nears the sweep of his conscription, his interests tend to branch out so much that it’s hard for him to even begin imagining what he could possibly make of himself…

So he doesn’t.

He spends most of his time collecting knowledge on whatever bits and bobs he can find, no matter how trivial, looking for some kind of validation of his intellect and talent. He reads and writes extensively, creating entire worlds he scraps once he’s become bored of them. He picks up games and hobbies like tabletop gaming and knitting only to drop them weeks or moments later. The only real consistency to him is the fact that he’s outright unpredictable. 

He can come off as a bit cold and callous, not really caring about the emotional aspect of things until it directly involves him, in which case he will get much, much too involved. He can come off as overbearing in some situations, forcing his good will down others throats so he’ll have something to parade as evidence of his virtue. 

Despite all of this absolute poncery, though, Calvis has quite a few good and sympathetic traits, no matter how much he lets them get overshadowed. He’s insightful and careful. He’s legitimately kind and gentle with the few trolls he can be bothered to care for (even including his kismesis at times). He’s just going through a bit of a rough time, nudging him gently toward his Crisis in one way or another.

I like how a lot of his traits come through as validation-seeking- which is a trait you mentioned up top but which really manages to carry through. I think if you want to carry the light/void theme and push his inversion, definitely increase his desire for Attention more. For Acknowledgement. 

Interests: Calvis has many, many interests, but not so many that he’s actually stuck to. 

He legitimately loves betta fish, especially for their bright colors and feisty attitudes. He has multiple fish tanks throughout the above-water portion of his hive, each tank filled with a small ecosystem dedicated to each of his fish. Most of them are named after snack foods. Don’t worry, he doesn’t eat them… just the fish flakes he feeds them. Don’t judge.

Calvis also enjoys collecting and decorating his hive with items of significant eldritch imagery. Teeth and eyes and tentacles are the motifs he chooses to decorate the walls of his hive with. Some of it comes off as quite lewd, not that he cares or notices much.

The rest of his interests, like collecting bladed weapons, knitting or crocheting, playing tabletop games, or writing, tend to be on-and-off. He picks them up again whenever he’s bored of what he was working on before. 

Oof, cycling through interests is also relatable. He’s a fantroll, so I can’t exactly recommend More Interests. ……..Maybe roleplay- 

Also sorry I’m just going to share one more of these ad posters because I can’t stop fucking looking at them.

Title: Bard of Void

Calvis acts more like a Maid of Light initially, relying on his kismesis for any real chance of power, yet finding luck and fortune a natural and powerful tool to his whims. He will leap at any opportunity to provide information about any topic he’s even remotely versed in, and he has a peculiar penchant for getting the right card or number when he needs to in games of chance, smirking sadistically all the while.

As he progresses in a session, or even matures as a person, he begins to accept the role of the unknown and mysterious, letting himself let go of his aggressive need to know everything, learning to go with the flow. He embraces the potential of the void, learning more about the origins of his lusus in the process. He loses out on some of his luck in the process, but like, yaknow, who cares about the outcome, man? It’s all the same in the end.

I know you’re not so keen about suggesting alternative god tiers for Trollsonas, but I did want to provide my reasoning. 

I think even if we did tend towards suggesting alternatives for trollsonas, I definitely wouldn’t. Learning to embrace the void and kind of accepting the solace of the blank sheet and getting out of the need for the limelight, the need to take the reigns and try to guide others, the despair at not Knowing what the future holds or what he wants the future to hold… It’s definitely a good route for this trollsona, narratively. 

Land: Land of Butterscotch and Tentacles

A massive desert of sugary tan sand populated by light purple Illithids, full of incomplete temples to the denizen Cthulhu. Calvis actually has two possible routes for his quest: completing the temples and receiving Cthulhu’s blessing, or dismantling them to free the Illithids from his control.

Ooh, always interesting. I do have to wonder why butterscoth tho, LOL. Sounds tasty.

Dream Planet: Derse? I prefer Derse just for the void connection and such.

Oh yeah, he’s super derse. Derse is in his blood.

Design:

Hhhonestly there’s not really a lot I would edit about his design? Violets/fuschias are high enough up that they can get away with wearing just about anything, really. If I had any recommendations, it might be to adjust the color of the undershirt or try out horns more similar to the traditional Heir Horns (hehe), but then I don’t know what Horn Rules you’re going by in your au. 

Here you see me playing with changing his shirt color to a true tyrian. I think it makes more sense- it’s a way to acknowledge his kismesitude with the fuschia- and, since he’s trying to overtake the heir position, it makes most sense for him to try to visually associate himself with the fuschia role. 

He’s a really well balanced trollsona! Thank you for sharing!

-CD

[haberdashing]

Since some of you expressed interest in hearing about my OCs, here is the promised rambling about them!

Note: I’m leaving out ones that I’ve already published fic for, and there are probably (definitely) more that I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Putting this under a readmore since it's rather long.

First, the fandom OCs that I haven’t written fic for yet:

I’ve made a few posts referencing Ophelia Jane Smith, but I haven’t given any general description of her, so here goes.

She’s my character in a Pokemon RPG campaign, with @lordlyhour as a fellow player and @verldra as the DM. (If you’re intrigued by the idea of a Pokemon RPG, I can throw a copy of the rulebook and associated info your way, just say the word!)

She’s a twin- or was, anyway, the tense changes depending on who you ask. (Her name wasn’t actually chosen for the Shakespeare reference, but because I was poking around on baby name sites looking for twin names, and found the suggestion of Ophelia and Ezra, which both mean “help” but from different languages of origin.) See, when she was... seven or eight or so (haven’t quite pinned down the timing), she went for a walk in the woods and lost track of her brother. And nobody ever saw him again... at least, not in human form. But while searching, Ophelia did find a Phantump that felt strangely familiar, and- knowing, perhaps, about the lore that Phantumps are the ghosts of children lost in the woods- she decided that the Phantump was her brother transformed, and brought him home and treated him as such from then on.

(...this backstory was approved specifically with the caveat that the Phantump in question is NOT actually her brother. Sorry, Ophelia, everything you think you know is a lie. Whoops.)

Also, like most Pokemon protagonists, by the time she heads off on her journey she has a mother but no father in the picture. In Ophelia’s case, a few months after... whatever happened to Ezra, her father left for what she had assumed was a business trip (her father is/was a freelance occult specialist, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to leave abruptly to go on a trip to where his expertise was needed), but he never came back. Ophelia’s mother knows more about what happened to him than Ophelia does, but she gets upset whenever the topic is broached, so Ophelia still doesn’t know what exactly became of him.

On the topic of her parents: Ophelia’s mom is the town medic for the little town in Orre where she resides, and as mentioned above, her father was an occult specialist; Ophelia’s inherited some of the personality of them both. Like her father, she loves to learn new things, even if the knowledge isn’t something terribly practical, and is fascinated with the occult (much to her mother’s chagrin); like her mother, she cares deeply about helping people and Pokemon and wants to make the world a better place, at least in some small way.

The campaign’s still in its early days, but right now her team consists of “Ezra” the Phantump and a Houndour from the woods near her hometown that willingly joined her team and was given the nickname Queen.

(I’d promise that these aren’t all going to be this long, but... well...)

The other fandom OC I haven’t touched via fic yet is Franklin Clark, who’s from the world of the Avarice AU. He’s Ford’s first reincarnation, and is as much of a nerd as you would imagine based on that information. He’s also black, has a very noticeable case of vitiligo (mostly on his face and neck, with some spots on his chest and upper arm as well), has a single mother (his dad died shortly after he was born) who struggles to keep their family in the lower-middle-class range rather than plunging into poverty... And he lives in the small town of Mud Bluffs, Arkansas.

...yeah, his school years would be tough enough even without getting into the whole “friends with a demon” thing. As it is, well... at least he gets good grades?

He’s an only child, but is somewhat close with his relative Ellie, who is technically his niece even though she was born a couple months before him. (Weird family trees are weird.) As time goes by, he eventually gets to know the Pines family as well, and learns more about who exactly this “Ford” person was and why it’s such a big deal to Stan/Mercuriat that they have the same soul.

As an aside, his name is Franklin. If you call him Frank, he’ll ignore you, or at least try to do so. And the only two people who get to call him Frankie are his mom and Stan, and even then he rolls his eyes and plays annoyed half the time.

On to the original OCs! Otherwise known as characters in search of a story... or, really, characters for whom I have a small snippet of story in mind but have no idea how to turn that into a whole Thing.

I’ll start this section with Scott Carlin, who I came up with way back in high school and hadn’t touched for some time before I started thinking about him again for some reason a couple weeks ago.

I can’t decide whether I’m going to use real place names and such in the story I have in mind or fictionalize them all, but for the sake of comprehension I’ll use the real names in this description.

Scott Carlin’s a teenage genius with particular aptitude for math and science who skipped a grade or two to get into college. He really wanted to get into a top-tier school- Caltech, MIT, Harvard- but all of those schools didn’t accept him, so he ends up going to NYU, or a school like it- not a BAD school per se, but not what he was really hoping for. It doesn’t help that it’s annoyingly close to his home in NYC when all he wants to do is revel in being away from his less-than-supportive father and their small, cramped apartment.

Another thing that annoys Scott is that of all the roommates he could’ve been placed with, he got stuck with Ryan (last name tbd because the one my high school self picked is super unsubtle). Ryan seems in many ways to be the opposite of Scott- he’s super-wealthy, takes luxuries for granted, and spends more time partying than studying. What Scott doesn’t quite realize until some ways into the story is that there’s more to Ryan than meets the eye- yes, he’s a rich kid, but he’s also something of a genius himself. (I imagine Ryan as being a bit like a young Tony Stark- yes, he’s brilliant, but he hides that part of himself often, being content to be seen as a rich playboy alone.)

If I stick with the story idea I came up with in high school, the plot starts with Scott, who’s bored with his classes and needs to occupy himself with some project or another, cobbles together a machine that theoretically could act as a time machine. He turns it on, not really expecting it to work... but it does.

...It also explodes in the process, stranding him several decades into the future.

Scott struggles to find a way to get back to his own time while learning what he can from the future, including the surprising (or at least, surprising to Scott) news that his old roommate Ryan turned out to be quite the successful entrepreneur.

All I’ve decided thus far while thinking about this story lately is that Scott’s trans and mixed-race, and that the love interest I had initially thrown into the narrative is entirely unnecessary.

Next up is Niklass (last name tbd, though it’s possible that he doesn’t go by a traditional last name, or any at all), who I first came up with in high school as well.

Niklass can’t lie. Or, more specifically, he cannot say something that he knows or believes to be untrue.

If you were to ask Niklass about this, he’d tell you that he was something of a spoiled brat as a kid, causing all sorts of problems at school and then lying when asked by his father what he had done, leaving his father more disenchanted with the school than with his son. Eventually, one of his teachers- the one who specialized in the study of magic- got sick of having to put up with Niklass’ chronic lying and cast a spell on him; Niklass woke up one day and found that when he tried to tell a lie, the words just wouldn’t come out. His father was (understandably) not happy about this, and tried to get the teacher to reverse the spell, but to no avail.

All of this is, of course, true.

But what he leaves out is that his father wasn’t just some random guy who spoiled his kid- he was an evil dictator that controlled the region. And the teacher who put the spell on Niklass didn’t just get a stern talking-to, but was tortured for days, maybe weeks, in the hopes of getting him to reverse the spell and finally was killed once it became clear that the teacher wasn’t going to give in.

Niklass got into the study of magic himself, initially with the hopes of reversing the spell himself, but later on he learned to admire magic on its own merits. He never did find a way of reversing the spell, but he’s made his peace with it. What he hasn’t made peace with is his father; Niklass has spent years running as far as he can from his father, even possibly into other dimensions (that was the original story line I had in mind for him, but now I’m not so sure).

Also, if you’ve noticed some loopholes in the “cannot say what he knows/believes to be untrue” phrasing of the spell... well... let’s just say Niklass has noticed them, too. Just because he’s stopped trying to get out of the spell entirely doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to test the boundaries and use what loopholes he can find to his advantage.

Last but not least, a relatively new one among the original OCs (from college or shortly afterwards, I forget exactly), Isaac Kaufman.

Isaac was raised in a Conservative Jewish family. He’s trans, and when he came out to his family in his teenage years, they continued to misgender/deadname him repeatedly and also made it crystal-clear that once he turned 18, he was on his own, and they weren’t going to give him a cent for college.

Between student loans, scholarships, and work, Isaac was able to scrounge together enough money to go to college on his own. While there, he got involved in the party scene, using his newfound freedom to indulge in some things that his parents definitely wouldn’t have approved on.

While walking to a nearby bar to join some friends in festivities there, a mugger pulled Isaac into an alley, got out a gun, and said to give him everything he had or else he’d shoot.

Isaac had gone through some rough times before, but this was the first time that he’d really feared for his life in an immediate sense. His brain went into fight-or-flight mode, and he chose flight.

Adrenaline rushing, Isaac sprinted away from the alley, not really concerned with where he was going so long as it was away from the mugger...

...and got run over by a car.

...several blocks away from the scene of the mugging.

While in the hospital, Isaac noticed that it felt like the rest of the world was slowed down, like people were drawing out every syllable they spoke. At first he wasn’t sure what to make of it- was it a side effect of some medication they’d put him on, or his brain not quite working right because of the accident? But after a while, Isaac figured out what was really going on.

It wasn’t that the rest of the world had gotten slow; instead, he was the one who had gotten fast. Super-speed fast.

For a bit, after getting out of the hospital and struggling to coordinate his return to school, Isaac didn’t really do much with his powers, save for things like snatching an expensive bottle of wine from a store too fast for anyone to spot him. But that all changed when he happened upon an old lady who was getting held up at gunpoint by a mugger; Isaac remembered when he had been in the same situation and decided to intervene.

The old lady’s improbable escape from the mugging made local news, and one clip in particular went viral- the old lady’s statement that she couldn’t see her savior’s face or make out anything about them save for “a black blur” (he happened to be wearing black clothes that day). Isaac weighs his options and decides to embrace the name Black Blur and become the superhero that some of the media had already proclaimed him to be, fighting crime in the city whenever he can.

He also ends up becoming a philosophy professor, one who deals specifically with the subject of superheroes and others who act to carry out vigilante justice- and his view of the subject as published in papers isn’t all positive. (It’s not that he’s faking the perspective, either- Isaac does grapple with the morality of his own actions on a regular basis.) He also has a loving wife and, eventually, a daughter, and he cares for them both very, very deeply.

Balancing work, family, and superheroics might be hard for some people... but hey, Isaac’s got the time for it.

Also, word to the wise: don’t mess with his family. Just don’t. He’s got literally hundreds of plans drawn up for various things that could go wrong re: his superhero identity interfering with his personal life, and none of them end well for the one who forces his hand.

(I do actually have a few half-formed ideas for other superheroes in Isaac’s world- a college student who doesn’t realize for a while that he’s turned invisible to others’ eyes, a mother-and-daughter pair who both don’t realize that the other is also a superhero- and I’ve considered combining them all into some sort of superhero autobiography anthology, but if that ever happens, it won’t be any time soon.)