#mori paid for his braces

[swordinheart]

port mafia dazai you will always be famous

[hiraethhh-h]

pyramid head with a gn!s/o who always pets him and scratches/rubs him underneath his helmet (Scenario)

Anonymous asked: Can you do a drabble for Pyramid Head with a S/O that always pets him and scratches/rubs under his helmet?

nonnie, u don’t understand how fast i ran to my google docs to write this HSKJDGH

wisps of fog curled around your body as you emerged from the trial. a soft sigh left your lips. you were lucky enough to find the hatch and escape from a very upset blight. an unpleasant shiver shot down your spine at the memory of the said killer mori-ing your teammates. yeah, the blight was not among your favorites.

a loud siren pierced through the sound of your thoughts, causing you to flinch. this wasn’t the campfire. rusted and beaten lockers lined the decrepit hallway, a flickering light visible at the end. you crept down the hallway, rubbing your forearms in an attempt to tame the goosebumps that began to rise on your skin. “pyramid head?” you called meekly, glancing around with a small frown. you heard no familiar sounds of the large killer, only the creepy ambiance of midwich. you came to a stop at an intersection. one way led down another hallway, the other towards where an exit-gate would be, and the final leading outside where large chains stuck to the ground. 

you headed down the steps that led outside, rain pelting down on you. water began to seep into your clothes, causing them to stick to your skin. you relished in the feeling, knowing you’d dry off regardless. caged bodies were suspended by smaller chains above you, some of them writhing around miserably. you simply paid them no mind, stepping in the middle of the three enormous chains that dug into the center of the open area. 

you slowly looked up to the dark sky, shutting your eyes with a soft sigh. despite being trapped in the Entity’s Realm, the sound and feeling of rain on your skin couldn’t help but remind you of the real world. a hand grasped your shoulder, drawing a yelp of surprise out of you. you pulled away from the being, eyes snapping open as you turned to face who or whatever had grabbed you. you were met with a dirty butchers smock and a large metal pyramid helmet tilted downwards to ‘stare’ at you. his trusty greatsword was held in his gloved left hand, the weapon tilted as it partially rested on the ground. “jesus… you scared the shit out of me.” you breathed out, placing a hand over your racing heart. pyramid head tilted his head every so slightly, faint, raspy breathing coming from the killer. you approached the male with a soft huff, gently bracing yourself against his torso. you paid no mind to the dirt, grime, and blood that began to stain your clothes and skin, simply savoring the warmth pyramid head provided.

one of your hands rested on his hip while the other began to drift to the bottom of his helmet. the male lifted his head slightly, giving you easy access. you came into contact with a slimy mass, which did admittedly feel weird, but it was something you got used to over time. you gently scratched at the pink flesh, humming contently. you brought your other hand to caress the side of his head. a deep rumbling sound came from pyramid head, the vibrations traveling down your body. you gave a soft chuckle, looking up at your lover. “feelin’ cuddly big guy?” you smiled, playfully prodding at the slimy mound. a pink muscle gently tapped your cheek, licking a stripe up your face. “eugh,  pyra!” you shrieked, pulling away with a laugh. 

his tongue waggled playfully, sticking out of the corner of his helmet where a small part of the metal was peeled up. it poked at your cheek much like you had done to him, eliciting another laugh as you gently swatted at his tongue. “okay, okay! i get it, you’re feeling cuddly.” you giggled.

 “we should head inside then, the rain is ass-bitingly cold.”

[mrbexwrites]

Okay- here goes *cracks knuckles* Excerpt of Part III of my WIP Memento Mori, a collection of four novellas about

Synopsis- Minutes before new year's day in 1999, a million children appeared across the globe. No-one knows where they have come from, but every single one has a unique ability. They are known as Millennium Citizens. Morgana Dodds, code-named 'the Medium', was one of five British Millennium Citizens and sent to the Carnegie Investiture to be trained as a superhero. Burned out and Genre: Urban Fantasy

Trigger Warnings- mentions of sexual assault, child abuse, violence

Excerpt below

My feet felt blistered and raw as I pushed open the door to room eleven at the Milestone Motel. I’d walked along the side of the highway after leaving the diner. A few kind drivers had slowed down to offer me a lift, but quickly sped away when they saw the blood. No one wanted to pick up a potential hitchhiker-slash-serial-killer. 

Thankfully, Benny at the motel reception was able to take my visa card, and checked me in. He looked like he was in his eighties, and peered at me over his horn rimmed spectacles. He wore torn jeans, a cowboy shirt with rainbow braces, and a massive stetson. 

“Have a nice stay,” he handed me over my room key, as well as the toiletries that were displayed behind him. I’d paid extra for the miniature bottles of shampoo, bubble bath, toothpaste, and  toothbrush.  “Towels are in the room, and there’s a complimentary robe as well. We don’t have wi-fi in the rooms, but you can pick up the signal here at reception. We got cable, but no pornographic channels. This is a family establishment.” 

“Understood,” I gave Benny my widest smile as I scooped up my toiletries and left for the room. I had no intention of watching porn in my room, and I’d seen enough movies to know what happened in most motel rooms, so I was under no allusion about the pornographic activities his usual guests would be up to. 

Room eleven was surprisingly clean and spacious. It was a little dated; wood paneling on the walls, landscape pictures featuring a surprising number of ducks and hunters on each wall, a worn orange and red geometric carpet, and a double bed with linen the same colour as the inside of a nectarine. 

I dropped the toiletries on the bed, and peeled off my shoes. Opening the door, I tipped the desert sand out from my Converse, leaving a small mound by the front door. I pulled off my socks and shook them out as well. Blisters had formed and burst on my big toe and heel. 

“Fuck,” I prodded it a little and wriggled my toes, feeling the tender skin underneath. I closed the door, and sat my shoes down at the end of the bed. 

I quickly scanned the little TV stand and small selection of refreshments. There was a kettle, a couple of cups, and instant coffee, sugar and creamer. No tea.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” I scooped up my toiletries and took them into the avocado bathroom. The water pressure under the shower was pretty decent, and I stripped off leaving my clothes in a heap next to the toilet. 

I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, and no wonder the people in the diner had stared. I looked like a red-panda; my face was orange with the dust. Dried blood caked my arms and torso where my t-shirt had been ripped. My lips were chapped from being out in the desert, my nails were filthy and ripped. My hair looked wild; it was half out of its ponytail and matted with blood. 

Despite all the blood, there was no sign of the fatal injuries that had befallen me, causing me to end up in the grave. Ante-mortem injuries never left a mark on me when I returned from the Beyond. Only my Investiture scar, the Y-shaped postmortem scar, remained on my body. 

I quickly looked away, averting my gaze from my own naked body. No one needed to see that. No one wanted to see that, least of all me. 

The water was warm and I watched the dust stain it red. I don’t know how long I stood under the shower, but once the water ran clean, I stopped the shower, and rinsed the bathtub. 

I ran a bath and poured the entire bottle of mini-shower gel into the stream of hot water. It smelled of citrus and mint. It was refreshing and made my eyes water when the steam hit my face.  

While I waited for the bath to fill, I brushed my teeth. Nothing helped make me feel more alive than brushing my teeth after a Return. 

I sank into the bath, and let out a sigh; after today, I deserved a long soak. Shame that I didn’t have a book or my phone with me. Not that I would have been able to listen to any of the music on it anyway, not with the wi-fi not stretching to the room. 

Thankfully, I’d kept my card in my back pocket, and my murderer hadn’t patted that down, but he must have ditched my messenger bag. I’d not found that buried with me, which  made sense, as he wouldn’t want to leave anything that could be used to identify me. I was surprised really, that he’d taken the time to bury me, and kept my clothes. Dumping a naked body out in the middle of nowhere would ensure carrion and scavengers would mess with any forensics and help the body decompose. 

An amateur then? Someone who panicked? But then, they knew about the dump site, and had used it before. Or perhaps someone who was confident that I’d not have been found. 

I sank under the water, and tried to remember the events that led me to a shallow grave in the southern United States. 

But other than the monochrome of the Beyond, everything was fuzzy. I could remember packing my bags and locking the shop. I remembered boarding the plane and crossing through Customs into America at JFK, but after that, it was a blank. 

Something had brought me from Scotland, to New York, and then to...wherever the hell I was in New Mexico. 

I sat up and wiped water from my eyes. I wondered if Pete, or Avery, or even Sarah had realised that I was gone. I tried to imagine them frantically looking for me, trying to get hold of me, but with my phone missing, not being able to reach me. Again. 

They’d come for me when Eagle Command had me, but once we had gotten home, it was business as usual. I was the forgotten sibling once again. They’d all gone back to their busy lives, and I was left holding myself together. 

No point in sitting turning into a prune in the bathtub with a one-woman pity party. The water was getting cold anyway. 

I considered dumping my clothes into the bath to soak, but couldn’t muster the energy. I wrapped myself in the terry bathrobe, and quickly pulled my hair into the second towel forming a turban, before collapsing into the bed. 

***

I jolted awake, the images of the Beyond scattering with the light. I leapt out of bed, pulling my robe tight. The towel that I had wrapped around my head had long since come off, and lay on the floor. 

I cracked the door open after I’d put the chain in place, and met the brown eyes of my breakfast buyer. 

“Howdy, ma’am,” he held up a bag. “I brought some dinner. Can I come in?”

I dumbly nodded, and fully opened the door to him. My initial panic at seeing him, and wondering how he knew where I was, was quelled as my brain caught up. He had recommended the motel, so of course he’d come here first to find me. 

Unlike this morning, he wasn’t wearing his plaid shirt and jeans; the khaki and green uniform of a police officer had replaced them. He pulled his hat off, and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it out of his face. 

“How’re you feeling?” He opened the bag and pulled out a white polystyrene box. The smell of spices and warm meat quickly filled the room. 

“Better now that I’m not covered in sand,” I accepted the pro-offered box, and cracked it open. Tex-Mex rice, beans and pork with a side salad was crammed inside. He threw me a fork. 

“I figured you’d be hungry. I wasn’t sure if you were a vegetarian, so there’s a veggie burrito in here as well.”

“This is good, thanks,” I scooped up some rice and beans, chewing slowly. I should be concerned that there was perhaps rat poison slipped in there- never accept food from strangers that you’d not seen prepared- but even if there were, I’d die, and then just come back within a couple of hours. And the food was so good, and I was still hungry. 

“I hope you don’t mind me tracking you down,” he perched himself next to the TV. “But given the state that you were in this morning, I thought I’d better check in. Benny wouldn’t normally tell strangers if someone was staying at the motel, but the uniform opens people up to share a lot of information. And I ain’t a stranger, neither. This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

“That’s a relief, I guess,” good to know that Benny wouldn’t just tell anyone that a lone female, who looked fairly vulnerable, was staying alone in a motel room. I felt so reassured. 

“You know, I couldn’t get you out of my mind all day,” he must have seen my face pale, and he held up his hands. “Sorry, not like that. I mean, in a professional capacity. I’ve spent all day dealing with drunk drivers, and I couldn’t get the image of this young woman, covered in blood, who looked like she’d been buried alive, stumble into the diner and order pancakes. Not ask for help, or for someone to call the police, or get a lift to hospital. But just...pancakes.

“So I did a little googling, and would you blow me down with a feather! Another Millenium Citizen! ‘The Medium’. Do you know you have a Wikipedia page?”

“There’s not much on it,” I shrugged. He pulled out his phone, and started reading. 

“'Morgana Dodds, the Millenium Citizen known as ‘The Medium’ is the final member of the Carnegie Investiture’s Crime Fighting Initiative. Little is known about the full extent of her abilities, but the ability to see and speak to the deceased was an asset to the team, until the Christian Forbes scandal when she accused the Peer of inappropriate sexual contact with children'-”

“That’s redundant. Any sexual contact with children is inappropriate,” I rolled my eyes, ever the pedant. 

“‘-and the Investiture were sued for millions. Since then, Dodds has been a background figure in Carnegie activities. Her last public appearance was on the ‘Skeptikz’ YouTube Channel whereby the two hosts tried to test her abilities as a medium’. I actually watched that video, and it was really good. You really spooked that guy, Mark, with the little girl he witnessed being knocked down.” 

“Tara McLean,” I sat on the edge of the bed. It was easier to eat and hold my robe closed between my legs. 

“Then, after some more internet searches, I found a couple of articles in newspapers about you helping the police. You get a mention in a couple related to the kidnapping of that kid from ‘Britain’s Voice of the Nation’.” 

“Ashleigh Docherty. That one was inadvertent. I had been following a human trafficker, Vasily Gregorov, so that I could help one of his victims.”

“That was…” He skimmed his phone. “Ylena Bogutskaya. The woman from Ukraine?”

“That’s right.”

“So, here, this is what I don’t understand. You’ve worked with the police before, so why not come to us for help. Something bad clearly happened to you. Why not reach out?”

I finished the rice, and sat the box down next to me. I suddenly felt very vulnerable, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. 

“This might be hard to believe, but even with a Wikipedia page, a lot of people are skeptical about my abilities. If you’d not seen me this morning, would you have believed me if I’d strolled into your station, and told you that I’d woken up in a shallow grave? I’ve no marks on me, not even a bruise. I’m alive, with a pulse. You’d think I was a time-waster, or a loony, and send me on my way.”

“I’d have believed you,” he pulled out a bottle of iced tea and reached over to hand it to me. “I’m like you. An MC. I mean...I’m not big league like you. I didn’t make the grade to make it into Eagle Command. There’s not much use for a human lie detector.” 

My stomach twisted with the mention of Eagle Command. It was hard to imagine that the affable cop who bought me breakfast had even been considered for Command, the American equivalent to the Investiture. But then, I’d trusted Caleb, and look where that had gotten me. 

“You’d be a rare exception within law enforcement,” I twisted the cap off the bottle, and took a sip. Tea should not be cold and sweet. I appreciated the gesture from him though, so I swallowed the grimace before it reached my face. 

“I picked you up some clothes,” He held up the bag again. “I wasn’t sure of your size, so I just picked up one of everything.It’s from the dollar store, so the selection wasn’t great. Hey, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” 

I nodded, my mouth full with ice tea, and he took himself into the toilet. 

I picked up the bag, took out the veggie burrito, and then dumped the rest of the contents onto the bed. There were basic toiletries, and then packs of socks and underwear in small, medium and large. The same with t-shirts, leggings and hoodies. A ‘one-size fits all’ sports bra was also at the bottom of the bag. 

I grabbed the sizes that I thought would fit, having to mix and match, and quickly slipped on some underwear, checking over my shoulder that the bathroom door was closed. 

The leggings were black with a galaxy print and tiny unicorns dancing around the ankles. The t-shirt was pretty thin, and had a meme cat staring into a spiraling galaxy, a look of awe on its face. Thankfully, the hoodie was plain, although, in this heat, I wasn’t sure if I’d need to wear it. 

A newspaper, the New Mexico Independent Chronicle, was at the bottom. The date indicated that I’d been dead for at least three days. The newspaper sparked a memory; the name Nora, and a man looming over me. 

“Are you decent?” 

“I’m dressed,” I folded up the robe, and pulled my hair into a messy bun with the bobble from my wrist. 

The bathroom door opened and the officer stepped out, my bloodied and torn clothes in evidence bags. He snapped off his blue nitrile gloves. 

“Well, I guess I should properly introduce myself. I’m Deputy Theodore Ward of the Grant County Sheriff’s Department, and I’m formally requesting your assistance with a homicide.” 

[deputyrhiannonhale]

Nodus Tollens Chapter 1

(A/N and ooc) ok everyone, here is my first chapter to my Far Cry 5 fic with my OC Rhiannon Hale. I've worked really hard on this character and I hope everyone enjoys her and her adventure!

I will add trigger warnings for each specific chapter, but the general triggers are: toxic relationship, canon-like violence, and mentions of abuse.

Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

*****

Two years. That's all the time that had passed since Rhi left Hope County, to go back to Billings to settle her affairs and continue her training to become a police officer. Two years isn't long, especially not long enough for what Earl was telling her about how much had changed.

When she was recovering from her injuries and her step brother Deeter's death, she knew there was a, for lack of better terms, cult settling in the county. She had only had the one run in with a religious zealot, trying to tell her that her loved ones were in a better place, and now she's learning there had been plenty more and they had now been kidnapping people, buying up land, basically taking over.

Right now, she was even watching a video on her phone that got leaked of a "sermon"-Rhi uses that term loosely-where the leader gouged out the mans eyes who had been recording this video.

The streaming video started to buffer and finally cut off and Rhi made a frustrated sound. Earl tapped her knee, an amused smile on his face.

"I know, Unk, no service." Rhi stated on a scoff before he had the chance, as she put her phone back into the depths of her pocket. It was one of the things she didn't care for in this part of the state. Spotty cell phone service, and at the same time, it made her more uneasy this time around. She shook off her anxious feeling, assuming it was just first job jitters.

Rhi looked out of the helicopter, seeing a giant statue of the leader himself; Joseph Seed. 

"Wait...what is his last name?" Rhi asked, her head turning back so she could look between Burke and Earl.

"Seed?" Burke answered, his tone overly confused, and Rhi's blood ran cold causing her to shiver.

No, that had to be just a coincidence, right? Was Seed a common last name? Certainly John wasn't a part of this? He couldn't be...how could he have hidden something like this from her for literal months? Rhi shook her head again. Of course it was impossible. 

She looked down at her right forearm, her gloved hand tracing along the momento mori tattoo her John had given her back during those months. He's not related to this crazy man, she thought to herself, completely galvanized in her decision.

Rhi watched the ground as the helicopter slowly descended towards it, everything suddenly seeming surreal. A religious cult? It's something she'd only ever heard of when watching documentaries, never something she thought she would actually be face-to-face with.

She followed along behind Earl, Burke and Hudson, her head on a swivel, watching all of the Project members sizing them up. Rhi jumped when a dog began barking, causing her to curse under her breath. 

"Goddamnit, calm down!" She commanded herself, even though she had every right to be on edge, the air was thick with tension. Quickening her pace to catch up with the others at the church doors, Burke and Earl were still bickering as Joey touched Rhi's shoulder.

"You'll be fine." She encouraged, Rhi gave her a small lopsided smile before taking a deep breath and walking through the double doors.  

Rhi's heart was pounding, not really from nerves now, but from adrenaline, as the Project members slowly turned in their seats, eyeing the trio as they walked by. Rhi's body tensed, ready for a fight if needed, her eyes scanned the small room, taking it all in and that's when she saw him. Her body had NOT been ready for that.

John.

It had been her John all along. She felt her heart sink to her knees, her stomach was in knots, stinging of tears threatened however a more familiar feeling washed over her: anger.

He seemed just as taken aback to see her waltzing into the church dressed as a deputy, however, John quickly regained his composure, looking away from Rhi, which caused her anger to rise more. Why was he looking away from her? Acting like he doesn't know her? She watched as he moved to stand behind Joseph. She gritted her teeth, her tiny fists clenched at her sides, not even hearing what was being said anymore. She was fully aware of the tension building all around them as the church members gathered, she could hear the voices raising and she could feel her body temperature elevating, her cheeks were warm, her heartbeat was thumping loudly in her ears. All she was focused on was John though.

How the fuck could he lie to her about his involvement with this? Why the fuck did he hide this from her? What the fuck was the reasoning behind it? Or even his approaching her to begin with? The gears were turning a millions miles a minute as she began connecting dots.

John approached Rhi a day after her run in with who she now realizes was Joseph. She was mad and hurt about Deeter's suicide, and she was being irreverent towards Joseph trying to use religion to help her feel better.

Of course.

"John, what the fuck?!" Rhi's outburst was unexpected, causing Earl and Burke to look at her wildly, as she stepped forward, not even looking at them, her hazel eyes only glaring daggers at the youngest Seed brother. She felt Earl place a hand on her shoulder, not understanding how she even knows John Seed personally enough to speak to him like she has. She could see the tall red headed man-he had to be Jacob-flanking on Joseph's right side give John a confused glance, but John didn't take his eyes off Rhi, her nostrils flared at his silence.

Rhi twisted away from Earl's touch, shooting him a quick, don't touch me look, before turning her attention back over Joseph's shoulder to glare at John once more. 

"How could you not tell me about this, huh?" She shouted, waving her hand around, gesturing towards Joseph and the church. "Was it all fun for you? Did you guys have a good laugh at the poor girl who was dealing with her step brother's death?" Rhi continued, her hand on her hip as her free hand was still motioning around wildly. Joseph looked over his shoulder at John, a clear frown on his face, he didn't approve of whatever was going down here between them.

"Rhi…" Earl's voice finally broke through her anger and she turned her glare onto her uncle, but seeing his face, which was a mix of confusion, disapproval and disappointment in her actions, the wrath left her veins immediately replaced by embarrassment over her scene. "Do you want to just cuff him, rookie?" Earl's tone was enough to get Rhi to focus back in what they were here for. Joseph's arms were still extended out to her, her outburst happening so quickly, no one really had a chance to fully process it.

"God will not let you take me." Joseph promised, and Rhi scoffed before she squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, as she grabbed the handcuffs from her belt and clicked them onto Joseph's wrists all while keeping eye contact with John. She could see his jaw muscles flexing and bunching as he witnessed his brother being arrested by the woman he had grown so close too. Jacob looked over at his brother and quickly shook his head, and John lowered his eyes to the floor as Rhi pushed Joseph out in front of her and placed her hand firmly on his shoulder and led him out of the church.

"Sometimes the best thing to do...is walk away." Joseph whispered softly, Rhi just rolled her eyes, and forcefully pressed her hand on his shoulder.

Rhi was so furious at John she barely paid attention to the members surrounding them as she paraded Joseph to the helicopter, she was muttering to herself, as if she was still fussing at John.

"You've grown close to my brother, my child?" Joseph's voice broke into her train of thoughts and she glared at the back of his head.

"Don't call me that." Rhi snapped, rolled her eyes, and she heard him chuckle, tightening her grip on his shoulder. She didn't want his eyes on her again. That intense stare really unnerves her. "Like you don't fucking know." She muttered under her breath, putting emphasis on her lewd word just for him. 

"I had sent him to you, yes, to bring you to us. I could see in your eyes you needed a family to love you unconditionally." Joseph admitted, softly, and Rhi's breath hitched in her throat at his words. 

"Yeah, well, he failed. Now shut up and just walk." Rhi retorted in lame attempt to sound tough, but he had hit a nerve. How could he have seen so much in her? Was she that easy to read? She had spent so much of her life building a wall around herself, she hated to know she was still so transparent, even if it had been noticed during her time of mourning.

It wasn't until they nearly made it to the chopper and a rock being thrown at Burke brought her back to her senses. It all turned into a blur of screaming and Rhi being forced into the helicopter with Joseph and the others.

All she could focus on was the creepy way Joseph was singing Amazing Grace, was this song supposed to be comforting? Maybe it was just his calmness in this distressing moment, she realized then he fully believed God would stop this.

Rhi's body was being jostled around as she tried to hurriedly fasten the safety belt around her waist after shoving away a woman with a shaved head, other project members throwing themselves at the helicopter, trying to pull Joseph out, trying to bring the chopper down? Who knew at this point. Rhi was beginning to panic just as the alarm bells started sounding off as the helicopter lost control as she grabbed a hold of her seat and they all braced for impact.

~~

Rhi groaned and slowly opened her eyes, hearing different voices that were distorted, like she was hearing them from underwater. She was looking around trying to get her bearings, the others were knocked unconscious still, and she touched Joey's neck to make sure she was still alive, she was met with a steady heartbeat and she sighed in relief. Rhi fully snapped to her senses, realizing everything was upside down, and finally looked to where her safety belt was the only thing that was keeping her from being on the upper part of the helicopter. It was cutting into her and she fumbled with it, trying to unbuckle it when she heard Nancy calling over the radio.

"Nancy!" She called out hopefully, reaching out in vain trying to grab the dangling headset before her. "Oh come the fuck on!" Rhi growled out, her fingers were nearly on it when a hand grabbed her wrist firmly. She screamed in surprise as Joseph's visage came into view, his blue eyes focused on her hazel ones intensely as he grabbed the headset for himself. 

It was almost as if static was filling her ears, she couldn't believe what she was hearing as she listened to the exchange between the Father and Nancy...she was in on all of this?! That fucking traitor. Rhi's blood began to boil again, as Joseph leaned in closer to her face.

"No one is coming to save you." A chill shot down Rhi's spine at his soft spoken promise, and she watched him as he was climbing out of the helicopter.

Rhi began to scramble, trying to undo her safety belt but it was jammed. Panic caused a bad taste at the back of her throat as she periodically looked back to the cult as Joseph was babbling about starting some reaping. 

The group came back towards the chopper, grabbing everyone in it, Joey began screaming, trying to get away, as Rhi grabbed onto her leg trying to save her, but it was a worthless attempt.

"EARL!" Rhi shouted, as her hands went back to the buckle at her waist, watching helplessly as her still unconscious uncle was dragged away from her. "UNK WAKE UP!" She was on the verge of tears, as Burke got her attention.

"We gotta get outta here!" He shouted to her and she growled.

"Nah shit!" She spat at him as she continued to struggle, watching as he got free and just ran, her jaw slackened by the fact that he ran off without trying to help her.

A rush of adrenaline got her focused and she finally got herself free and she crashed onto the top of the helicopter hard. She grunted, holding her elbow tenderly before that little voice in her head yelled 'RUN'.

Like a bolt of lightning, Rhi shot out of the chopper, stumbling slightly as she ran towards the wooded area where she had seen Burke disappear.

She had no idea where she was going as she heard bullets whizzing by her head, she ducked and weaved through the trees, her lungs burning as she willed her legs to pump harder. Rhi was putting as much distance between her and her pursuers as she possibly could. There were so many of them and only one of her. 

Rhi came to a drop off that landed her in a small pond. The water was cool against her flushed skin from her run, but she didn't give herself time to enjoy it before she was out and jogging again.

"Hello, is anyone there?" It was Burke's voice on her radio, she pulled it from the clip on her belt, and was about to chuck it into a tree out of pure spite against him for leaving her for dead, but the logical side of her brain told her that he may be her only way of getting out of this mess.

Rhi listened and followed where he gave his location.

Instead of unloading onto Burke all her thoughts of him, she just stewed in it as she ran to find the trailer he was talking about. How could he have left her for dead like that? He better have a damn good reason behind it. Maybe she should have told him she was on her way?

That thought came a little too late as she opened the door and Burke attacked her.

"Hey asshole, it's me!" Rhi shouted, swinging back at him out of instinct, and he made an audible noise and backed off.

"Rook, oh god, it's you." He said relieved and she rolled her eyes, straightening her jacket back out.

"Yeah, it's me. Fuck dude." Rhi understood why he'd attacked her, he did send a message out over the radio, probably an unsecured line and yeah she also realized that she should have told him she was coming. They were both a little at fault here.

Rhi checked the rooms as Burke explained that there was a truck outside and that they needed to get out and back to Missoula before coming back and saving the others. Rhi wasn't 100% that they should leave the others behind right now, but what choice did she really have?

"Ok, I'll guard at the window and if any of those Peggies show up, I'll cover you while you get the truck going." Rhi agreed as she picked up the nearby rifle, checking to see if it was loaded. 

She watched as Burke left the trailer and she shattered the glass with the butt of the rifle, positioning herself comfortably at the window, looking through the scope, she began firing on the cult members that emerged from the woods.

Rhi ducked down from the opening to reload her gun, taking a deep breath to clear the thoughts from her head. She was so worried about her uncle, she knew he could take care of himself, but she just couldn't handle the thought of another family member being hurt. Rhi kept hearing Deeter's voice in her head: 'Just relax. Picture the gun as an extension of you. An extension of your arm. Imagine the bullet as part of you, straight from your arm until it lodges into the target.' She was zoned in when she lined her shot back up, taking a few more out when Burke finally blew the truck horn to get her attention. After popping off a few more rounds to buy herself time, Rhi left her position, breaking another window, she hurtled herself out of the house and into the truck with Burke.

"GET THE FUCK OFF US!" Rhi screamed as she leaned out of the window, firing more shots at the tires of the trucks following them, trying to get the cult off their tail.

"Fuckin' Nancy…" She heard Burke mummer under his breath as she finally sat down in the seat. Rhi took several deep breaths, getting a moment to relax. "Damn, they've blocked the road!" He shouted and Rhi scoffed, wiping the sweat off her brow.

"Of course they fucking have. Just bust the fuck through it!" Rhi demanded, leaning back out of the window, spraying bullets and watching the Peggies scatter to take cover as Burke sped the truck up.

"There's dynamite in the back! Use it!" He screamed at Rhi, who nodded and grabbed several of the sticks as gently as she could, she leaned back inside long enough to get Deeter's lighter from her pocket, lit the first stick, and chucked it into the cab of the truck closest to them.

The Peggies in the truck cursed and bailed from the vehicle moments before the dynamite exploded and Rhi laughed, before a light above her got her attention, she rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated growl before flipping back into her seat, placing the lighter lovingly back into her pocket, patting it before turning to face Burke and pointing out the back window at the helicopter hovering them. 

"Oh fuck me running! They have air support too? What the actual fuck man?!" Burke looked into the rearview and cursed loudly, slapping the steering wheel hard. 

"They're in front of us too!" He pointed out, and Rhi looked in front of them as they were getting ready to cross the bridge that would lead to their freedom. Rhi once again leaned out the window, shooting the man who was manning the mounted gun, but she knew they didn't stand a chance when the bridge exploded and Burke jerked the wheel to the right and they plummeted from the bridge into the river below.

*****

Tagging: @ja-crispea @returnofthepd3 @dieguzguz @shelliechen @f0xyboxes @ramadiiiisme @hopecountygazette (lemme know if you dont want to be tagged)

[solargroup09]

Yuevlive ep.4

× episode four

× yueliang Venice vlog recap

× wc 780 words

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

-Yueliang is back to Venice!

-This vLive was recorded, edited and then posted on Solar’s channel on the app;

-There is a brief intro made of scenes of Yueliang vlogging her own mistakes and accidents. She bumped in a bunch of tourists and she nearly tripped on the Rialto Bridge. She also tried to take some pictures of herself leaving the camera on a wall or a handrail but seagulls and pigeons kept getting in the way;

-“Hello everybody!” she exclaims cheerfully, “as you can see I am not in Seoul! I’m back to Italy for a short holiday and I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to show you a bit of my dear Venice!”;

-“So today, we’ll visit some famous places, some cool places and maybe, even some creepy ones!”;

-Yueliang is so excited she can barely contain her grin. She is wearing comfortable clothes and has a big hydro flask with her;

-“Stay hydrated!”;

-She is marching towards San Marco Square and she totally ignored the classic tourist points to show us something more fun. It’s a monument and it shows a lady as she is dropping a mortar from her window;

-“This” Yueliang says excitedly, “is one of my favorite things in Venice”.

-“You need to know that in 1310 Baiamonte Tiepolo plotted together with other noblemen, a conspiracy to overthrow the government of the Serenissima. Their army was preparing to attack the government building. Puzzled by the roar coming from the street, Lady Giustina leant out of her house window and in doing so dropped a heavy mortar that she was holding immediately killing the flag holder of the army of rioters. This incident caused havoc amongst the insurgents who were subsequently easily defeated by the regular army”;

-Yueliang eyes are shining: “Isn’t this great?”;

-Yueliang: *points at any artistic detail * Mina would love it!

-She proceeds running around Venice, showing both recognizable spots and funny curiosities;

-This is such a relaxing video I love it;

-“Let’s talk about curses”;

-Okay, not that relaxing;

- A horrible fate has combined the stories of the owners of this beautiful building, so as to define it “cursed”.

-“The owners of the beautiful Ca’ Dario Palace have all met a horrible fate. Brace yourself, the list is long” Yueliang has a wicked smile, she really loves dark stories;

-“Do you know who has been buried in San Michele Cemetery? Stravinsky! I love his music and I still remember when I was practicing his violin concerto… ah, I miss those times! Maybe one day I’ll play a bit of it for you!”;

-She really is doing her best to capture the beauty of Venice;

-“You may not know this but Venice has quite some underground spaces and crypts despite lying on water! The San Marco Basilica hides a secret. Basically, under the marbled floor lies a crypt fashioned out of the earliest buildings of the basilica. The crypt used to be the place where remains of St. Mark’s – the patron saint of Venice – were laid to rest in secret. They were only discovered in 1811 locked up in a wooden box which had been hidden in a pillar. The relics had been concealed there in fear that an attempt could be made to steal them in the same way they had been stolen from Alexandria in Egypt by two Venetian merchants in the 9th century”;

-“Stay hydrated!”;

-Yueliang: *points at any food stand * Ari and Luna would love that!

-After more shots of her face as she is walking, she reached Mastelli Palace;

-“This is the last place we’ll visit today, I’m dead tired but I had so much fun hanging out with you Suns! I hope you enjoyed seeing a new kind of content and I’m so happy I had the opportunity to tell you some interesting stories about Venice!”;

-She ends the vlog showing the curious statues adorning Campo dei Mori. There are three men and they look pretty startled. There is also a bas-relief with a camel.

-“The legend says that they were three rich silk and spices merchants – Rioba, Afani and Sandi – who tried to scam a rich Venetian lady by selling her some low-quality textiles for an exceedingly high price. She ended up catching up with the scam so she cursed the money she paid. When the three dishonest merchants touched the money they turned into stone! It is said that if you touch the nose of the statue of Sior Rioba, you’ll have luck in your business affairs” she explained smiling;

-At the end, Yueliang touches the nose of the statue and, while looking at the camera, she cheers: “Solar, fighting!”.

[halloweennut]

Memento Mori

Memento Mori:  a reminder of mortality. 

(Or in which Draxum attempts to be emotionally supportive for Recruit despite having looming omens of mortality.) 

 The Foot Clan’s research in quest of the Dark Armor led them to a secluded remnant of yokai land on the surface. What was once a very well maintained hedge labyrinth had become overgrown and easy to miss through the bramble and trees that had risen from the earth. Their branches grew over the hedgerow, shading the path and making it impossible to see the other side. The labyrinth itself looked more looming and threatening than it had ever been. Draxum remembered seeing the labyrinth a few times all those years ago, prim and pristine, and never again wished to venture in for good reason. Behind the clean-cut edges of branches and leaves and golden glint of sun off leaves lay a threat. 

“So…how literal is the name “Labyrinth of Souls?” Jocelynn asked, visibly a little put off. She, Recruit, and a few others were with him at the labyrinth’s entrance. Despite Recruit’s absolute hatred of her, which Draxum understood fundamentally, she was one of only five recruits Draxum deemed suitable enough to handle the labyrinth and procure the armor piece. “They said the translation was a bit literal but is it? Could it just be…a poetic device?”

Draxum refrained from rolling his eyes - the original yokai name was much better and fitting but didn’t translate well, admittedly. “No, it is literal. The generation that named it was known for its less figurative language.” 

Before Jocelynn could continue her growing line of questioning, Recruit cut in with her own. “What exactly do you mean by ‘literal’? What are we going to face in here?”

“The maze is called “the Labyrinth of Souls” for good reason,” Draxum began.  “It’s haunted.”

“Haunted? What the-” another recruit began to prattle. “I did not sign up for ghosts! I ain’t Scooby-Doo!”

“Your reference is lost on me, and additionally I don’t care,” Draxum said. “Now if I may continue without any more outbursts…the labyrinth is haunted. It simply became that way a very long time ago.”

“Ghosts just don’t come from thin air! What if the labyrinth is magic and killed whoever cheated?” a second nameless recruit added. Draxum stared at them harshly, and Recruit joined him, and they shrank back behind Jocelynn. 

“The labyrinth is magic, yes, but the most it does send you back to the beginning if you do cheat,” Draxum continued. “It changes its shape every so often as well, every thirty minutes. To get to the center where the armor is, you all will need to go quickly. Do not separate. Do not cheat. Do not engage with whatever you see.”

“Permission to speak!” Recruit said. Draxum nodded. “Is there any more information on the ghost? It will be relevant.”

Draxum paused. “Do not look at it, and do not let it see you. Whatever the spirit is, because it isn’t a ghost, technically, it can and will try to manipulate you to turn and run, either getting lost in or leaving the labyrinth. As I said, you have thirty minutes to get to the center. From there, the labyrinth will allow you passage out. Understood?”

The recruits snapped into a tight line and saluted. Recruit quickly took the lead of the other four, and they ran into the labyrinth. Draxum watched as they disappeared into the unknown, and stood watching and listening. Huginn and Muninn began to place bets on who would run out screaming first with a few laughs. Draxum ignored them, his attention solely on the passing minutes and the screaming sound of silence, trying to keep his mind away from the times he had gone in - times brought on by a goading dare or from desperation to see faces he missed. He forced the memories down deep, kept himself in the present. 

The thirty minutes were up, and the labyrinth began to twist. The entrance stayed the same, but the labyrinth began to echo and groan as it rearranged itself, like old bones forcing themselves to bend and creak. They should have been out by then. Another few minutes passed, Draxum allowing for some benefit of the doubt. When there still wasn’t any sign of them, Draxum brushed the gargoyles off his shoulders. “I’m going in after them. Do not leave this spot. I can at least follow a time constraint.”

“Bye boss!” 

“Don’t die!”

Whether or not Draxum paid attention to them was of little relevance as Draxum entered the hedgerow. Skeletal branches jutted out from the green, almost grabbing at him as he made his way into the depths, listening and keeping an eye out for his recruits. The path twisted, breaking into different directions, never once repeating the same design. There were no clues of traces of any of the recruits, forcing Draxum to act solely on instinct alone. He ignored the sound of the wind echoing around him - it sounded like a funeral wail and march all at once, and he didn’t wish to verify the source be it wind or otherwise, not yet. As he turned past corners and through little clearings that may have once been pleasant little hideaways with their gazebos and benches, Draxum’s mind went back centuries - he told himself it was to help make sense of the maze. He didn’t have any more time or patience for being sentimental, only for objective facts. 

Objective facts from his memory: the ghost, spirit, what have you was the only one. The form it took was an impression of your most vulnerable memory and meant to scare you. It wasn’t a true shade, only an excellent, harrowing mimicry. Find and follow it to the other people in your group. From these, he had the outline of how to cheat the maze without being sent to the lonesome entrance and forced to begin again. Up ahead, he saw a film of fog slip away behind a corner. There was his quarry, and he bolted, gunning straight towards the specter. He slid around the corner, narrowly avoiding tripping over exposed, neglected roots, long forgotten in their overgrowth. Draxum found himself in another one of those little gazebo hideaways, the flowers overgrown and choking on themselves and the sweet smell of floral rot. 

And the ghost stared at him. It stood in front of him, unmoving and eyes blank, blinking sedately every so often. It made no sound of anguish or heartbreak, made no move to reach him. Draxum stared back. It was all he could do, despite the pit of horror in his gut. He straightened his posture, squaring his chin. The ghost mirrored him then, its one and only movement. 

“You are not real,” Draxum said coldly. The ghost made no response, only disappearing into the ether. It’s only a hint of a presence was a curling trail of smoke that almost dissipated into the ground before moving out of the clearing. Draxum stood still for a moment, trying in vain to make sense of what he saw, before running to follow it through the maze. It proved difficult, only having a trail of smoke that just escaped from the corner of his eye. It almost felt like he was being led in circles! It was senseless! It was mad!

It was the nature of the maze. 

The specter evaded Draxum, shaking him off its tail as the path forked in three directions. Draxum snarled and angrily snapped a dead branch from one of the walls. Three choices laid ahead, and he despised guessing games. A hint, at the very least, came in the form of a distressed shout, coming from the left.  He couldn’t tell which recruit it came from, not that it mattered as he followed the sound. As he approached an intersection in the path, a parallel sound of footsteps came running towards the center, towards him. Draxum barely came to a stop when Recruit nearly collided with him. She let out a yelp, immediately going into the offense before recognizing that it was just him. Her hands balled into fists in an instant and she struck at his chest, adrenaline flashing out in a fight response. Draxum was quick to grab her wrists.

“Recruit! Stop!” Draxum barked, finally getting a look at her face. Recruit’s eyes were wide, but he couldn’t read if it was horror, distress or adrenaline or some mix of the three. Her fists were still clenched, just as tightly as her jaw was. He could feel her heartbeat race against his palms, frantic, and it was hard to ignore the full body tremor. Whatever she had seen had been bad.  Recruit’s pallid face twinged, her lower lip tucked under her teeth, and suddenly her head dropped and her shoulders slumped. Her fists were still clenched, but Draxum loosened his grip as the top of her head leaned into his chest.  He knew she was upset. She, for all her bravado and fearlessness, wore her emotions on her sleeve - her pride, her joy, her anger, and now her fear and distress. He knew she needed comfort.

Draxum was at a loss for what to do. 

Giving her what she needed back at the Botanical Gardens was easy.  External confidence in her abilities, belief that she was more than capable of retrieving the armor piece, all easily given with an action and a sentence - besides, it all fell into place with his overall plan that night. This was different. While Draxum understood what and why she felt the way she did, he didn’t know the right words to say, the right actions to do. He wasn’t like Lieutenant or Brute and he wasn’t like Lou, and copying any of them would be disingenuous.  There was little he could think of doing that could even be in the realm of possibility for him. 

Recruit let out a breath that shuddered, snapping him out of his head. 

So, in all his loss, he stood still but loosened his grip on her wrists so she could relax them at her sides. Her head was still pressed on his chest and he couldn’t see her face at all. Draxum reasoned that it was for the best that he didn’t, at least not until she had calmed herself down. Recruit’s own pride wouldn’t let her be seen too vulnerable, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. She was already down enough as it was. Cautiously, he placed his hands on her shoulders, not pushing her away but just to brace her. 

“Hush,” Draxum said, softly. It was the only thing he could think to say. He knew it wouldn’t help, save to maybe offer some noise to the silence. It was neither an order or a suggestion, just a sound. They stood like that for a few moments, ignoring the rasp of the wind and a creak of the vines. Eventually, Recruit’s breathing evened out, and she stopped shaking. Roughly, she cleared her throat and stepped back, putting distance between the two of them.

“Apologies,” she said gruffly, raising her face mask over her mouth and nose. Draxum nodded, knowing that this would never come up again. “We need to locate the other four. Three of them got spooked and ran off, and Jocelynn and I were separated by the maze while trying to find them.”

“The sooner the better,” Draxum replied. “We’ve spent long enough in here as it is.”

And with that, they began to quickly navigate the labyrinth, although Draxum did notice Recruit keeping behind him instead of trying to keep pace. Like before, it wouldn’t be brought up unless it became a habit - something Draxum doubted. Before long they caught the spirit’s trail again, following it to the sound of startled cries and footsteps. They found Jocelynn first, shaking more than a leaf and rambling about her grandmother. Recruit barely relished the chance to snap Jocelynn out of it with a quick jab to the side. The next two recruits were found together in an almost comedic huddle. One of them repeated that, once again, he was not “Scooby-Doo,” and once again Draxum didn’t care. The last one they found closer to the center. They were unnervingly calm, simply stating that they wanted to go home, wanted out of the Foot Clan, and wanted to apologize to their mother. 

“Only after we get the armor piece,” Draxum stipulated. The recruit only nodded and fell in line with the other four. “This time, no separating, understood?”

It was understood and laid unquestioned as they ran through the rest of the maze, ignoring the wind creeping and wailing at their backs as though begging them to turn and look behind them. They ignored the whispers of gray fog and smoke that curled in the corner of their eyes through gritted teeth and clenched jaws as vines and branches grabbed at them from the depths of green leaves. Ignored and run past even as it all seemed to grow more and more frequent until-

It all stopped and went silent and still. They had reached the center of the maze, Draxum realized. The whatever spirit that ran rampant there no longer had reason to go after them. The center was nearly a perfect circle, save for the solitary entrance. In the middle was a small marble fountain, once grand and bubbling with water, now crumbling and choked with dead and decaying leaves. Water sat stagnant with nary a ripple to mar its mirror-like surface. Equally choked, covered with vines and debris, was the piece of armor on the top tier, standing as a former, glittering centerpiece. Ominously, the maze changed behind them, with all its creaking, snapping branches. They had made it by a hair. 

The recruits, naturally, stepped closer to Draxum at the sound, with only Recruit finally going to Draxum’s side. He hoped she was getting over the earlier incident. Much like in the Botanical Garden, he gestured to the armor piece with a nod of approval. He just saw the twinge of a smile or something similar on her face before she lept on top of the fountain, snatching the piece from its resting place. 

They returned to the entrance and, just as quickly, back safely to New York. One recruit did as he said and quit, leaving his gi and alliance at the door. Jocelynn and the other two lingered around the lair before heading to their respective homes. Recruit promptly handed the armor piece to Draxum, lowering her mask. 

“About…earlier, I swear to never show weakness like that again,” Recruit stated. “I’m not a child. What I saw-”

“Is of no importance. It wasn’t real,” Draxum cut in. “I don’t need to know. However, what I do know is that you are capable of handling things like this and even greater. Unlike the other recruits, you snapped back quicker from the experience.”  

Recruit straightened up at the praise, whatever trace of nerves gone. Relief and pride replaced them. She nodded her head. “Thank you, Draxum.” 

He nodded in return. “Go rest, Recruit. I have things from here.” 

Draxum turned to face the armor, walking up the stairs. The armor piece seemed to grow warm in his hand as it grew closer to its proper place and home, nearly snapping from his hand to join the rest. Now he could relax, albeit momentarily, and let himself think about what had happened in the maze.

The first time he stepped foot in there was on a dare from Big Mama before she was Big Mama and back during the brief few decades they actually liked each other. He dared her back, and neither made it far. He couldn’t even remember what the maze’s sole inhabitant had taken the form of, just that it frightened the both of them, probably a dead relative back when the concept of death was still new and frightening. The second was a few centuries after yokai had been forced down below, and he was desperate to see faces long since passed. The forms the spirit took weren’t what he expected, instead finding twisted death masks of the dead pleading with him. Like the first time, he didn’t make to the center, nor did he even plan to. The last time had been thirteen years ago and for the same reasons as the second. A last-ditch, desperate plea to see Lou’s face again, even if it was contorted by anger and rage. He only stayed long enough to see that and then he turned and left.  

All the forms were were last memories of those departed and those long since dead - or in Lou’s case, presumed dead. A clever ploy to frighten maze-goers into leaving or confronting some twisted idea of mortality. Draxum thought he understood it, the mechanisms of the spirit and the maze, just like he did with alchemy or battle. 

What he couldn’t understand is why the spirit became his mirror image, without a flaw marring the surface. And that was what frightened him.

[bokutosbiceps]

Could I have Akutagawa trying to invite his gender neutral crush for a date (officially not a date, what do you mean!)? I emphasize "trying". :)

oh my w o r d i love this request. this is the only reasonable way to write aku. hands down. conversation finished. that’s it. IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS !!! thanks, teru, you’re so freaking amazing.

- Pocky

under the cut for length :)

“I never knew you were such a proficient cook, Akutagawa-kun!” You marvelled, peeking over his shoulder and at the pot of curry rice he’d managed to cook to perfection.

“I’m not. It’s just my sister’s favorite dish, so I cook it for her often.” He answered, trying to sound as humble as possible. You’d been watching him cook since he walked into the suite’s kitchen, you finding whatever activity he could be up to far more interesting than the briefing you were reading.

This mission was originally supposed to be for Chuuya, but seeing as Chuuya was otherwise busy, he handed it down to his reluctantly willing subordinate. And in his infinite singular moment of wisdom when he remembered that his subordinate was smitten with you, he sent you, a consultant to the Port Mafia, an invite to the mission.

You didn’t like to be tied down, and you didn’t like being labeled, so when Mori had taken a liking to you and tried to recruit you, the two of you made a deal. You were to be a consultant to the Port Mafia, going on assignments that you chose and being paid per successful mission.

You couldn’t quite remember how you’d met the frosty, raven-haired man, or how you’d decided that you liked him, but before you knew it, you were choosing assignments that you knew he’d be on. You were asking for unlimited access to the Port Mafia’s buildings so you could roam the same halls that he would. And you’d managed to get the inside scoop on Akutagawa’s whereabouts and interests and fears and things of the like when you made fast friends with Higuchi and Gin. And with a tip from Chuuya, in a note attached to the briefing he had sent you, you knew that Akutagawa had even taken a possibly romantic interest in you.

You had settled on the counter next to the stove, crossing your legs and bracing yourself against your hands which were behind you, with your eyes left to roam over Akutagawa’s countenance the entire time.

“I wish I wasn’t such a terrible cook. Maybe then I’d finally be able to start that self-care thing everyone keeps raving about.” You joked, earning a wry laugh from your temporary partner. You admired the way his sturdy brow melted into a ski slope of a nose, and his overcast eyes that were focused on not burning the rice. This was when you noticed that he’d managed to cook quite a bit of the dish, and you wondered if he had made some with you in mind.

“Well, enjoy your meal.” You hopped down from the counter and began to saunter back over to the lounge chair you had traded in for a warmer place next to him. “I wonder what kind of takeout places they’ve got around here.” You mused, keeping his expression in your peripheral vision to see how he was reacting. He didn’t even avert his gaze from the pot, and you felt your heart drop to your empty stomach.

You plopped down onto the lounge chair and gathered your laptop, the other thing you had abandoned in exchange for his company, and exited the briefing email Chuuya had sent you. You brought up a map of the city and searched for takeout, halfheartedly scrolling through the options the city had to offer. But none sparked your interest as much as Akutagawa’s cooking.

You moved your fingers away from the keyboard just in time to not be crushed by the screen being pressed shut; you glared at the stone-faced man standing above you who had quite rudely shut your laptop.

“I made enough for the both of us, idiot. Possibly left overs for tomorrow, too. If the food isn’t as good as I expect and if we are here for that long.” He prompted you to stand up with an outstretched hand, helped you out of the chair, and let you serve yourself what he had made. The two of you sat at the kitchen bar in silence, only the metallic sounds of spoons scraping against bowls and ice clinking against the inside of your water glass. He had opted for tea.

Akutagawa’s stomach felt as tight as his fists were as he watched you out of his peripheral, waiting for any signs that you enjoyed his dish, since he couldn’t just directly ask you; the feeling of being nervous was quite eerie to him, since it was a very new feeling. The Mafia’s Dog was never nervous, he was the pillar of grit in the Port Mafia–he never questioned a mission, he never backed down from a fight, and, most of all, he never felt remorse once he walked away with his pale hands tainted red. And then he met you, and now he was nervous.

And then you got up abruptly, the screeching of the metal chair against the seemingly metal floor bringing him out of his own head with a jolt. His eyes followed you as you carried your bowl over to the stove and reached for the lid to the stove.

“What are you doing?” He asked, successfully hiding the quiver in his voice with a cough.

“Getting more, what does it look like?” You retorted, your back still to him. “I haven’t had food this good since…” you thought for a moment, looking up to the ceiling for emphasis, “never actually.”

Then, Akutagawa got an idea. A fever-inducing idea. An idea that made him even more nervous.

He was so nervous that his hands were shaking, resulting in him having to clench and unclench his fists to give him some sort of stability. He was so nervous that he couldn’t keep still, couldn’t calm the skipping of his heartbeat, and couldn’t will himself to speak as elegantly as he wanted to. He’d never been so nervous, which was now not a new feeling for Akutagawa; but he was still the same man who’d never back down from anything.

“I could teach how you to make it if you like. At my apartment. Sometime.” He said slowly, his eyes boring into your back. He noticed you had stopped scooping the rice into your bowl. You turned, a sly grin on your lips.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Ryuunosuke?” The way his name rolled off your tongue caused a chill to run down his spine and for the tips of his ears to heat up.

“It’s not a date. I’ll just be showing you how to cook a dish. And Gin will be there.” His speech was really less than eloquent, and it made him want to flick himself in the forehead.

“I’m free whenever.” You said flippantly, turning back to the stove for your seconds.

“You can come over when we’re both off.”

“What about Gin?”

“Is it okay if she’s not there?” Akutagawa really hoped she wouldn’t be, contrary to his previous statement that she would be so it wouldn’t be a date. But if she wasn’t, was it a date?

“It’s fine with me. Is it fine with you?” Your inquiry was met with silence, which, in Akutagawa sepak, meant yes. “Wednesday is good for me.” More silence. “Then it’s a date.” You confirmed.

“It’s not a date.” He insisted.

“I meant that we had set a date, Ryuunosuke.” You quipped. He sighed; you were insufferably stubborn. And that was one of the things he liked about you.

“Fine. So it’s a date.” He relented.

“I knew you were asking me out, Ryuu.”