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transcherries · 8 months

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Say Bye to Jet-black Spots: The Dealing

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psykonautiks · 8 months

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Say Bye to Murky Spots: The Final

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genutriness · 8 months

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Say Bye to Murky Spots: The Remedy

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for-peace-war · 5 years

Photo

art by @idrawbuffgirls

Part VI is the final part of this series prior to its in-game conclusion. It was a lot of fun doing it... thought his one went to an hour and a half because I had to look up a lot of information. All the same, thank everyone that followed the story to this point. It means a lot to me that people found it worth looking at in any regard.

This follows @iamreinhardt‘s Valenso the Zingaran. And as always, thanks Kelzack for the awesome art!

THE GREAT WINGED ONE.

Follows Part I.

Follows Part II.

Follows Part III

Follows Part IV.

Follows Part V.

Part VI.

VALENSO THE ZINGARAN vantage of the vivacious Vendhyan vixen enveloped in velvet violated what vaunted virtues he envisioned for himself. She was an exotic acquisition—black hair that fell like a funeral pall along her lightly toasted features. In motion her body was a series of quiet seductions, which the Zingaran had enjoyed many, many times the nights prior. She claimed that her father was a brahmin of the priestly varna. He informed her that if that was the case, then her father had sinned mightily—for to steal a piece of the heavens and offer it to infidels, now could that be anything short of sacrilege? And then he had sinned mightily with her.

Oh, what a time it had been.

“You do not sleep?” She asked. Her voice was quiet and husky, the sort that made bedroom chatter incline toward bedroom play. Though he spoke enough Vendhyan to get around when needed, Valenso did not care to engage her in the tongue; he much preferred to hear her stumble over Iranistani. It was cute—in a way.

But she was correct in her inquiry—he did not sleep. The air was perfumed not merely in the fading notions of their congress, but spices and the heavy scent of the oils she had placed upon him. Though that haze had seen him clearly to the point of exhaustion, it had not prevented his mind from remaining fixed on one truth: one unmistakable truth. It was not that he had lost Zaliki—it was that he had never had her at all.

The Zingaran moved a hand to slap the girl’s bottom, which clapped to a sound nearly as delightful as that which came of her mouth. She pulled away, the velvet sheets upon her drawn like a whorl in her wake, and revealed more of him to the warm air that infiltrated the ship at its mooring. She looked back at him playful; he ran a hand through his hair and allowed his amber eyes to take in not merely what was before him, but what was not. There was no small wonder why he had picked the girl, of course. She was shapely, with the body of a dancer and the large, heavy breasts of a matron-to-be. Her hips jutted out into vase-like curvature that placed to shape the pottery of the greatest Corinthian kiln master. Along the tops of her breasts and around her midsection, thin lines of a softer shade appeared where her skin had stretched along itself, painting those areas in a pale, though vibrant wave of hues not at all dissimilar from the orange glow of the setting sun. And her eyes—the one that had not been concealed by the sea of black that she swam within, were a brilliant blue so fine that sapphire might well have been carved from them.

No, it was no wonder at all that he had chosen her.

But she was not the wonder that he had chosen.

“I am going to go for a walk,” the Zingaran said. “Try to pretty yourself up a bit for me before I return, yes?” He winked devilishly at her. She blushed a fine color along her brown cheeks. When he drew himself out of bed, he knew that her eyes followed him with admiration. There were few men that could command enough physical beauty to deny a woman’s inclination for wealth, and few men that commanded enough wealth to make a woman forget how hideous he had become in its acquisition. Fortunately for her—and more importantly, every woman that had ever crossed paths with him—he was the possessor of the better part of both qualities. He was born into beauty the same as he was born into wealth. When one was a noble, what else could they expect to know?

She mewled after him. “You do not like what you see?”

His response was to draw her closer by her hair, so that she winced a playful protest, and then kiss her. It was not the manner of kiss that was intended to claim souls—it was the kind that was meant to stoke a fire and keep it well tended in his absence. She warmed against him and her hand, covered in golden ringlets, found his strong jaw and stroked the hair upon his chin. His hand moved from the gentle slope of her neck, down to the full, hanging breasts he had favored with so many affections before, and he carefully squeezed upon nipples as dark as earth, and twisted tenderly until she moaned against his lips. She was heated by his presence, he could feel. If he wanted, it would have taken him no time at all to slip into bed and back into her in an instant. Even had he been a pauper—and perish that thought!—he would have been faced with no great resistance. As a man of the sea, he had learned to navigate all manners of wetness and opened legs were no less wonderful to sail than the open sea.

But, alas, he had business elsewhere—business, and a mind, that though piqued knew it would not be sated on her for the time being. He drew his hand away from her breast and brought it to her chin, where he pressed his thumb against the side of it and his other fingers claimed portions of her jaw. She was made to look at him directly then. He spoke to her, in the slow and patient way a man might have a mule, a child, or any other simple creature not fit to stand as his equal.

“Do not ask whether or not I like what I see, little girl,” he told her. “Pray that I do.”

He did not hurry away from her, but rather dressed slowly in the wake of his command. Her attention was wholly devoted to him and in those moments, the Zingaran allowed himself to become what he knew he never could truly be: free of worry, of the burden of concern. The masks he wore would always prevent him from needing to delve deeper into what pressed against him, and just as he slipped back into his fine clothing he could place on more to protect him from the elements that surrounded him. The warmer climes of Iranistan had made his attire less suitable than it had been previously, so he adopted their garb—a sirwal and a silken coat that followed him as loyally as the Vendhyan girl’s eyes did.

What was her name again? As he snatched a pear up off the table he reminded himself to ask, but had forgotten his interest in the matter by the time he was tossing it away.

Zariba was a lively city. Deeper within Iranistan, near Anshan, he knew that Zaliki had claimed to have a need to speak with someone and though he had been inclined to accompany her there were ways in which the Stygian could make a man forget what his true intentions were. After all, she had convinced him—a proud son of the sea—to make a journey to Iranistan of all places. The coastal condition had made it slightly less daunting to consider, but some part of him knew that even if she had asked to be deposited in the heart of Drujistan, then he would have carried her there.

The streets were filled with the exotic enticements of a decadent world—a world so decadent that even he had made a vow not to enjoy any more of it before he had learned something of what had become of his companion. What had begun as a vigil, set by himself in her name, had devolved into a torrid series of vices that ranged from beauties to brawn to the bestial things that came between them. He had no reservations in most cases when it came to taking what he wanted, but when what he wanted could not be taken, it was a hollowing experience. What was the use of all of his skill, coin, and bravado if he could not acquire that which was on his mind?

Why had he allowed her to leave without much protest?

There were times when Valenso thought that he might have seen her in the streets. At the corner of his eyes, perhaps behind a snake charmer or a rug merchant he thought he saw her, nearly fair despite her heritage and draped along the arm of some rich aristocrat. But each time they turned out to be nothing more than voluptuous mirages, and after he had sampled their wares he always came away feeling as if he had wasted even more of his time. But wasn’t it all just a waste of time?

Wasn’t he being an immense fool, in the end?

Marioso, his first mate, had been as clear as his cordiality permitted him. “If she remains, my lord, then she does not wish to be seen.” Darmino, a cocksure sailor with a golden tooth, had offered his agreement in the form of a muttered vow that his ‘jigglestick’ was sore from its stay in port for so long. “Me sores is sore,” he declared. Valenso had considered their words and with the aplomb of a man that knew his place in the world, promptly ignored them. For what did either know of what they had seen in the Accursed Lands? What did either know of what it meant to survive through determination alone?

It was not merely the entertainment of their voyage that kept him so devoted to his post, he knew. Perhaps in passing when he recounted the tale to another he would say how the temptress, when astride any man on a ship, made the whole world seem a tumult that threatened to swallow him in passions only she could produce—and truthfully, the sight of her ply that secret and dark talent of that came of Luxor’s bosom and undulated as mightily as her own was a sight to behold—but it would have been false. Time spent with Zaliki was less a matter of what one desired, and more one of what could not be obtained. Perhaps they had fucked—and yet, they had not fucked each other.

She fucked him.

He fucked himself.

“What the fuck am I doing here,” the Zingaran said to himself as he strode the streets further. The arming sword at his side, a masterwork of crafting, felt the only thing that belonged to the man that he was. It was not love that bade him, he realized with each step that he took. Nor was it even the devotion of one friend to another. It was something more, something more personal and intimate than even that.

It was that she had promised to return—promised in a way that he knew she could never break. As childish as it may have been, the Zingaran realized that it was belief in another that had kept him in place!

Gods, had he ever fucked himself!

There were more beauties that met the eyes; delicate creatures, draped in fine fabrics that revealed only their eyes to the passing man. Daughters of great men, surely, with big eunuch guardsmen that blocked the way of any that would have arrived at their bedchambers. As he watched one of the women guiding her sisters along the street in detail with her guards, his mind shifted from the sway of her hips to a distant enchantment. He recalled his adventure with Zaliki when they had arrived in Sabeaa, to the south, and provisioned themselves for the final leg of the trip. The portside town was of little interest, but it was a tale that two fishermen had shared with the Stygian—informing her of how her beauty would be appreciated by Mirza Hashem, that their interest was piqued.

“The mirza’s palace,” one of the fishermen said, “is a sea of beautiful flowers surrounded by walls of ivory. Anything that a man could desire can be found within it: wine, women, work—so long as Mirza Hashem has turned his favor upon you, there is no place better to be.”

His friend added, “And considering your beauty, my dear, I do believe you would be right at home among the clouds.”

Valenso had learned long ago how the Stygian’s voice changed when she had something on her mind. She perfumed her words in a sort of trance that made men sway in the wake of her every word. “Does this palace have mangos?”

“I think so,” one of them said.

She turned back to him and offered him a Shemite’s smile.

“I suppose we are going to get a few mangos, eh?” He grinned.

The fishermen had not been lying. In fact, they had undersold what awaited them. In the middle of what should have been desert stood ivory walls that were so pale they made the surrounding sands seem as though mud. Fine music coated the air about them, and the glittering golden armor of the guardsmen at the gate shone with enough brilliance to make him squint. There were any number of reasons not to go into the garden—for a mango, no less—yet Zaliki’s prodding made him feel it was worthwhile.

Oh, how right that feeling had been.

An adventure including an enraged Mirza Hashem, a vow to see them dead, the echoes of pleasure from the mirza’s finest concubine in his mind, several rings that then coated his fingers—and one mango later, they had retreated with laughter back to his ship and enjoyed the spoils of an evening well won. It had been a glorious moment, indeed.

“It is rare you smile so openly,” a woman said to his right. She was tall and golden-hued, shaped as if Ishtar herself, with regal cheekbones and a head of brown hair that fell gently past her shoulders. The turquoise green of her eyes and the way her full lips formed into a familiar smile were unforgettable.

“Zaliki.”

“Valenso.” She stood before him in the flesh—flesh as lovely and pure as it had been when last he saw her. Daylight had begun to retreat from the pale walls of the city and those within it began to retreat into their homes. Zaliki, dressed as a local townswoman, offered him a smile. In some strange way, the cotton seemed far more exotic upon her than the silks he had last seen her in. She was almost normal—and that made some part of his mind want to see the creature inside of her all the more. The smile she offered him was greedily accepted; he devoured her with his eyes.

“I was only thinking of—”

“Mangos,” she finished for him.

He smiled. “Yes, mangos.”

But there was something about the air that was different. Valenso eyed her more carefully. Had she been injured—was she being used as a trap of some kind? Danger did not escape her, neither did a reason for sympathy. She was not the same woman, though. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I am,” she said.

“Thank the gods. I could not suffer much more of this place.”

“Thank you for enduring it as long as you have.”

They walked back to his ship in relative silence, chatting as if she had not vanished off into the darkness one night and returned with the arrival of another ominous might. Reminiscing became a protection against the moment they were in: it was a mask, that allowed them to delight in the off-putting of a heartbreak that he had not yet felt and yet had already experienced a thousand times in a thousand different ways. The moon described a path for them, but where it led was a mystery to Valenso. He could still feel how soft her skin was; knew that her thews were silken sheaths over sturdier stuff. The body of the woman beside him was not one he would ever forget, and yet what was within it—that was what confused him.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Part of it,” she said.

“You should see the woman I found to pass time with in your absence. Your Derketo would find no reason to complain of her.” He thought to compare her to her directly—to perhaps draw a bit of jealousy out of her so that when they fell to play upon the girl, she would be as mean as she was invigorating. Yet that idea felt like an aborted dream, divided by a chasm that denied what was—and what could ever be.

A phantom’s romance floated off of Zaliki’s voice when she spoke. “Did she satisfy you?”

He found that question surprisingly difficult to answer. “In a way,” he said. The Zingaran looked at her and noted her eyes were turned toward the distance as they walked. He looked to the starry sky. “I have had better, I suppose.”

“And worse,” she said.

“And worse.”

“It is always good to remember that. Better—and worse.”

Their conversation became more fleeting. Iranistan’s streets had become empty and for an ephemeral moment, Valenso wished that Mirza Hashem’s golden-scaled men might have emerged from an alley and forced them to fight their way from their midst to his ship, where a speedy retreat would have been met with laughter and lust. But the streets were quiet and the only gold that saw was that which they wore.

When they arrived back at his ship, they stopped.

Valenso spoke first. “You aren’t coming back with me, are you?”

The Stygian was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was of a different world. “No.”

“Then why did you come back at all?”

She stepped closer to him and with a gentle touch, placed her thumb to his chin, and allowed her fingers to claim possession of his bearded jaw. She kissed him, not in the manner that made one’s flames come to life, but in a way that caused the soul to release it had been relinquished at long last. The masks that he wore fell to the floor, and he realized that he no longer cared for the coins he had acquired or the beauties he had known. Truthfully, even the Vendhyan that waited for him hot as the flames that had spawned her could not promise him a moment of what he saw before himself.

“Goodbye, Valenso.”

“Zaliki,” he said her name as if holding her by it. He was a nobleman of fine blood, who had conquered the seas and escaped the Accursed Lands. Saying her name should have been enough—it should have held her fast, as fast as his hands might if he could seized her. Even that act felt helpless, though. He knew that he could not hold her—that man could, in the end. “Where are you going?”

The Stygian’s silence was agonizing. She turned her eyes toward him once more—eyes that joined the craftiness of her Shemitish and Stygian blood, yet somehow were able to convey an earnest concern where neither bloodline would have done so on their own.

“If I tell you, you must promise never to tell another.”

He did so.

She told him.

The Zingaran swore to never tell a soul of where she had gone—or to ask himself how he could allow her to go there, alone.

#conan #writing exercise #valenso the zingaran #the great winged one

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7aiguanlin · 7 years

Text

unspokenly yours.

character: lai guanlin.

genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, demigod!au.

word count: 3404w.

summary: three times that you were there for guanlin and one time he was there for you. //

“listen. if you want to talk to him, just go talk to him,” daehwi says in a matter-of-fact tone as he forks a piece of pie into his mouth. you take a break from gazing at the new camp jupiter transferee to glaring at your younger half-brother, scowling at him before you pointedly set your fork down and stand up.

“fine. i will,” you say curtly, before making your way over to the boy decked in black clothing, sans the white t-shirt he donned underneath his black leather jacket. you slide in across from him, ignoring his stare.

“hey.” you don’t know if it’s a smart choice to approach the camp jupiter transferee who had already been claimed as hades’ son, but as a child of athena, your curiosity had overwhelmed you over the past two days.

“h-hi,” the boy stammers out. you introduce yourself with a smile, and you note that despite his cold exterior, he comes off as a shy boy rather than a cold city guy. you smile, carrying the conversation through its basics and letting it proceed from there.

before the campfire that night starts, you learn that guanlin is half-taiwanese from his mother and that he comes from the city. his best friend from camp jupiter is yoo seonho, a son of hebes, and guanlin was extremely saddened to have to leave his best friend. you learn that guanlin is not one of those people you judge via first impression, because he laughs like a dolphin and smiles– gums and all– at the lamest jokes and the smallest actions.

you both skip the campfire that night even though you tell him he should go with you, and trade in a night by the fire for a night at the dining hall underneath the fairy lights hung on the wooden structures. he promises he’ll go next time, when he’s comfortable.

he walks with you to your cabin that night, caught up in a conversation with you regarding which camp was weirder between camp jupiter or camp half-blood. camp half-blood wins after you tell him about all the pranks ong seongwoo has pulled and about how once, the quiet bae jinyoung, telekinetically threw a pumpkin at his head. guanlin lets out a dolphin-like laughter, that slowly dies down as you both reach your cabin.

he bids you an awkward good night paired with a bow as you enter your cabin with daehwi awaiting you on your shared bunk bed. he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“your bed is up there, daehwi,” you say as you make a notion to the upper bunk, “not there.”

the first time you are ever there for guanlin is when you become the only one to put aside your first impression of him, effectively making you his first friend of many. //

the next time is when you and guanlin, accompanied by daniel, minhyun, and doyeon set off on a quest to retrieve the keys of hades for guanlin’s father. it’s been a long time since you and guanlin had wordlessly established the mutual feelings you had for each other, and there was some unspoken relationship between the two of you that no one– including you and guanlin– had bothered to question.

you and guanlin lag slightly behind daniel, minhyun, and doyeon, hands swinging dangerously close to each other in silence. minhyun looks back at the both of you occasionally, ensuring that you two are still behind them and with the group.

the silence, although not unwelcome, is difficult to call comfortable as the five of you venture the labyrinth in order to reach the middle in which the keys of hades had supposedly been hidden by the escaped soul that guanlin had sent back to the underworld to his father with much difficulty.

as the five of you continue to walk, you take a look at guanlin, taking in the sight of the cut on his cheek and the bruise on the corner of his lip. you fight the urge to graze your thumb over the darkened underneaths of his eyes that have accumulated over the past days on the quest,

as guanlin notices and meets your gaze, questioning in his expression, your eyes widen as blood begins to drip down his nose. immediately, your hand flies up to catch the blood by pressing against his nose as you call out for the group to stop.

“guanlin, your nose is bleeding again,” you murmur as the rest of the group approaches you, already handing you a bloodied handkerchief that had been used to dry guanlin’s bloody nose earlier. you hold the handkerchief up to guanlin’s nose before he takes it himself, your hands brushing together.

guanlin offers you all a weak gummy smile as you wipe his blood on the hem of your already soiled t-shirt, not bothering to speak since you all know it took a lot out of him to bring the demented soul back to the underworld.

“we’ll rest here,” daniel says as he sets down his backpack. “three hours, i’ll take first watch, minhyun takes second, and you take the last watch,” he says as he gestures to you. “the rest of you, get some rest. especially you, guanlin.”

guanlin opens his mouth to protest, only to receive a collective glare from the whole group excluding you. the boy sighs as he settles down and allows you to nurse his bleeding nose, following your instructions as you tell him to look downwards while you dab at his nose.

“you always take care of me,” guanlin says as he peers down at you with a smile.

“if i don’t, who else will, you big doof?” you chuckle as the blood flow from his nose slowly comes to a halt.

“what would i do without you?” he asks softly. your smile fades slightly as you recall the ever-present possibility of you dying on quests. choosing to ignore the concern, you flick his forehead lightly.

“good thing you’ll never have to worry about that, because i’ll always be by you.”

guanlin’s smile gets gummier, and little do you know, he’d go to the ends of earth and beyond to make sure you’d always be by his side. even if it meant pushing the laws of the godly world.

“go to sleep, doof,” you say as the bleeding finally stops, “i want you asleep these full three hours. you need it.”

he goes to sleep after you say that, and you go to sleep shortly after him, not too close, but never straying too far.

when minhyun wakes you up for your watching shift, you have to gently lift guanlin’s arm off your waist.

you’re not really surprised and neither is minhyun. you’re both used to it, but as per usual, neither of you say anything about it. you peck guanlin’s forehead as minhyun goes to sleep and you take watch. //

the third time is when guanlin refuses to come out of his cabin.

“it’s been four days since you guys got back on your quest and he hasn’t left his cabin ever since he arrived. he rushed you into the infirmary and after making sure you were alive, he walked out of here and into his cabin, and never walked out,” daehwi informs you.

you stare at the iron stygian ring that you had gifted him a long time ago that had been left at your infirmary’s bedside table. it glows a soft purple even as its shrouded in a yellow sunlight as you listen to daehwi’s words.

“is he eating?” you frown, immediately concerning yourself with his health. daehwi shrugs, a pout-like grimace gracing his innocent features. “he has to be eating somehow.”

you sigh, recalling your last duo mission with guanlin that you two had just returned from. it ended with guanlin having to carry you into camp half-blood after you completely mangled your leg from an attack guanlin had meant for your enemies.

he didn’t speak after he had saved you from falling into the earth as he had cracked the ground open, but you remembered him crying as you drifted off into unconsciousness from blood loss and you remembered him yelling as he entered the camp to get you help.

you remembered how he looked at you with tears in his eyes as you were brought into the infirmary, and you knew he blamed himself for your current condition.

with plenty of magic, sungwoon’s home remedies, and jaehwan’s healing singing, your leg was slowly healing with only a small scar predicted to be left on your thigh. you were set to leave for your own cabin that night before dinner.

before daehwi leaves to continue camp activities, you call out, “tell ong i’m going to need him later.” //

later that day when you’re released from the infirmary with a bandages wrapped around your thigh and a small pack of sungwoon’s natural painkillers in your hand, seongwoo is waiting for you by the door. he spins a ringlet of keys and pins on his pointer finger with a grin.

“are you going to ask me to pick the hades’ cabin lock for guanlin?”

“... yes, yes i am.”

he chuckles heartily, before throwing an arm around your shoulder and leading you out. “let’s get you some dinner first, and you can pick up some food for guanlin too, since god knows how he’s eating right now.”

you smile, somewhat bitterly, as seongwoo leads you to the dining table to grab food. you eat only a salad and some nectar for a drink, before you and seongwoo head over to hades’ cabin. you carry a box of pizza and a bottle of nectar in your hands– probably not the healthiest option, but pizza was guanlin’s favorite.

you knock first.

when there’s no answer, you threaten guanlin– “if you don’t open this door right now, i’m going to have ong pick the lock.”

when he doesn’t answer, you make way for seongwoo to pick the lock. he does, and he leaves you with a salute as you walk into the cabin and shut the door behind you.

“guanlin?” there are a few beds in the cabin, but guanlin remains the only occupant as he lays on his bed with his earphones plugged in. you know he hears you because one earplug is hanging out of his ear and he’s fiddling mindlessly with his ipod.

“i brought pizza,” you say as you set the pizza and nectar down at the foot of the bed on the floor.

“why are you here?” he mumbles as you sit yourself on the floor beside his bed, which hangs low from the floor.

“because you saved me,” you reply, recalling how you had screamed his name and how he had immediately run to you and pulled you out of the crack in the ground.

he turns to lie on his back, refusing to look at you. you see his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows his emotions. “i wouldn’t have had to save you if i wasn’t stupid enough to make that move in the first place.”

“love, look at me.” the occasion in which you call him love is rare– often a slip of the tongue– but every time you say it, you mean it. after a moment of silence, guanlin turns to look at you and you slip your hand into his. “if you hadn’t made that move, both of us would be dead.”

“but i made that move and you almost died.”

“guanlin–”

“i’d rather have myself die than have you die.”

“don’t say that, you know i don–”

“why do you love me?”

you bite your tongue.

the acknowledgment of your feelings for each other had always been silent and unspoken, not just by the both of you, but by everyone around you. but now, guanlin was bringing everything to light. you had never told him you loved him and he had never told you he loved you– you both went with the flow of the relationship and it was a given that you two were something, but you couldn’t claim him your boyfriend or vice versa. anyone was free to go after you or guanlin, but they chose not to, because they knew anyway.

“do you know how much destruction i can cause with the snap of a finger?” guanlin asks, eyes quivering as his stare bores into your soul. “do you know that i could send a soul to the underworld whether they deserve it or not with minimal consequences? do you know how many of my companions’ auras i’ve watched slowly fade as they dide? or sometimes the auras don’t even fade– one moment they’re there and the next moment they’re not.” he yanks his hand away from yours.

“i didn’t want to hurt you, but i did. i did, and i almost got you killed. i’m a monster, i’m a child of hades, the god of the underworld and the dead. how could you call me 'love’? nonetheless, how could you love me? how can you even look at me?”

you take a deep breath.

“i love you because even if you can make the earth shatter with the snap of a finger, you don’t. i love you because even if you could send a soul to the underworld, you never would, even if they did deserve it. i love you because no matter how many life auras you’ve watched fade, you’re still here. i love you because you being a child of hades doesn’t define you. hades isn’t a horrible person– he just got the worse end of the stick between the siblings. and you’re not a horrible person either, guanlin.” the boy’s eyes quiver as they begin to shine with tears.

“i love you, because you’re the purest person i’ve ever met and everyday your laugh rings in my ears and i wake up looking forward to seeing your smile.” you inhale, again. “i love you, and nothing could stop me from doing so.”

“i’m sorry,” he says, “i’m sorry.” he throws his arms around you and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling out a long string of sorries.

when his tears have dried out and when his voice is hoarse from sobbing, he sits down at the edge of the bed and makes room for you, offering you one of his earbuds.

with the playlist he had secretly made for you playing softly in your left ear and the distant cheers from the campfire reaching your right ear, you intertwine your hands together and sit in the comfortable silence.

you leave that night as curfew approaches, but not before placing a soft kiss on guanlin’s forehead, reminding him that breakfast is tomorrow at eight am.

after that, you call guanlin ‘love’ more and he calls you ‘baby,’ and from time to time he tells you he loves you behind the closed door of the hades cabin, but still, you do not call him your boyfriend and he does not call you his lover. //

months have passed and there are some days that go by with you missing guanlin as he goes on his solo quests and some days that go by with guanlin missing you as you go on yours.

today is one of those days that go by with you missing guanlin and worrying over him. it’s been four days since he’s gone on a quest to the underworld, and although you know that the underworld is his territory as much as it is his father’s, worry still resides in your heart.

as you nail a javelin into the center of a target, you pick up some voices.

“dude, this is your chance while guanlin is gone.”

“are you kidding me? they’re practically together anyway, and god knows what that guanlin kid is going to do if he finds out i tried to get at them.”

their voices get louder as you go to retrieve your javelin from the target, your blood slowly boiling at the words they spoke.

“what did they see in guanlin anyway? the guy’s a freak. there’s probably a reason he had to transfer from jupiter to half-blood, maybe he participated in some black magic or shit. or even worse, maybe he sent someone to the underworld?” the second voice speaks up again, laughing loudly.

“you know what, you’re right. going after them would be a bad idea. zeus knows where you’d end up if you tried to hit that. i’d love to see guanlin banished from camp half-blood, but i don’t think you’d like the underworld that much,” the first voice snorts.

your knuckles turn white as you yank your javelin out of its target and without thinking, you throw the javelin straight in-between the owners of the voices.

the eyes turn to you as the two boys loudly curse in surprise, and out of the corner of your eye, you see jisung moving to stop you. seongwoo holds him back, although his stature is tense as well.

“what did you say about guanlin?” you prompt, taking another javelin that you had thrown into your target and stabbing it into the floor in front of you.

the second boy swallows heavily, but the first boy takes a step towards you. your right hand’s grip on your javelin tightens and your nails dig into your left palm as you seethe.

“we said, that your boy is a freak of nature,” he snickers, “and maybe you are too, now that i think about it.”

“if he’s a freak of nature, we might as well all be,” you coldly proclaim, lifting the javelin. “we’re all children of mythological beings and ninety percent of the population don’t even think we exist, you headass.” you twirl the javelin with ease between your fingers, preparing to throw it.

“let’s see if you still have the guts to talk shit when you have a stygian iron javelin point protruding from your fucking guts.”

the first boy steps back as if it’ll ease the situation at all as you take aim, but just as you’re about to swing your arm, slender fingers wrap themselves around the javelin. guanlin’s strength, although you are blessed with the strength of athena, overpowers yours and prevents you from making the final move.

“it’s not worth it,” guanlin quietly speaks into your ear as he glares at the two boys. he makes a notion with his chin telling them to get the hell away, and they do, not even bothering to extract their clumsily aimed javelins from their targets.

“but they we–”

“i know, but they’re not worth it,” guanlin says as he chuckles. “they can’t even aim a javelin properly, and isn’t that one kid who stood at the back zeus’ kid?”

your anger subsides at the sound of guanlin’s chuckle, and somewhere in the background, seongwoo and jisung sigh a sigh of relief.

guanlin ruffles your hair roughly, a gummy smile on his lips. “i don’t really care what they say. it’s funny that they’re afraid of me.” a boyish giggle escapes his lips, and you swat at his bicep, only to wince at the pressure applied to the crescent-shaped wounds on your palm.

“jeez, you really need to control your anger sometimes, you know?” he takes your left palm into his right and a shadow shrouds your joined hands before he lets go and rubs his thumb over the healed skin. “i can’t always be here to stop you from throwing a javelin or stabbing a sword into someone’s foot.”

“if you weren’t so smart, i’d think you were ares’ kid instead of athena’s,” guanlin jokes. you wonder when he stopped caring about the rumors that spread across the camp about him, and little do you know that he stopped caring after you had assured him of his humanity that night in his cabin.

“your boy can handle himself,” he chuckles, and you wonder how he’s one year younger than you sometimes.

“my boy?” you stifle the grin that threatens to pull at the corner of your lips as guanlin pulls you into his chest with his arms tightly around you.

“yeah, your boy. your boyfriend.”

(in the background, seongwoo yells out a ‘finally!” and daehwi receives ten gold coins from the rest of your half-siblings in the athena cabin.)

#wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #lai guanlin #guanlin scenarios #guanlin #unedited #xue writes

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anatemori-dughter-of-art · 5 years

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Twins of Olympus

the ice and the fire

chapter 3

Last Chapter: as she was handed the marble ball it started glowing, one second I was on the training ground the next Lana and I are in the air “whaaaaaaa!!??!?”

I was asleep well I thought I was, but not at all in front of me was a dark cloudy beach with tsunamis and tidal waves and what almost looked like a hurricane was forming. Dang, this screen could make The Great Galveston Hurricane look like child's play, I then noticed the most beautiful, majestic black steed that I’ve ever seen and one of my uncles is a horse breeder/trainer.

The beautiful steed was walking towards a field of high grass with old dead looking trees, I think, around the field where old, broken gravestones it was a graveyard sitting on the largest gravestone were two crows? One was huge, as big as a cinereous vulture but I was too far to see just how big, underneath its wing was a white crow, the way the big one was covering the little one was as if they were protecting it.

The three animals seemed to be arguing, but once again I was too far to hear, a strong tidal wave blow by surprising me, the black steed then races back into the ocean leaving the two crows behind, suddenly I was flung out of the field/beach to a cage of iron in a dark cave, there was a small opening at the top of the cave I looked up to see thousands upon thousands of stares. “Whoa…” I said awed at the beauty of the states “there beautiful, aren't they” said a voice, I turned around in the cage I finally noticed a person inside it, “wha...sorry ma'am I didn’t see you” I sheepishly said knowing how rude it was to ignore people

“It's alright little one, you were captured by the beauty of the stars,” she said happily the lady, she was sweet-looking and beautiful in an unpretentious way, with an honest smile, and black hair that framed her face in ringlets.

I couldn't tell what her eye color was because they were closed, but I bet they were beautiful just like her, she held a jar of some kind in one hand and a fire that burned a more alluring red than any fire that I have ever seen in the other, “who are…” was all I could get out before being flung out the cave again.

But this time I was flung around like crazy like I was in a washing machine till I gasped out waking up in my coffin bed, looking around I realized that Nico want there, I got up and noticed that they had brought all our luggage here, I opened my suitcase and grabbed some brown shorts, a white collar shirt and a navy vest and change in the bathroom.

********

I get out to see Lance had already gotten up he was waiting by the door looking half asleep, getting out of the way I left to get him something to wake him up, as

I was about to open the door “hold up” he said knowing this was going to take awhile I start looking through our stuff, to see what Mom had packed in here for us everything was normal toothbrushes, sines we lose them easily, hair brushed, we break them, don't ask Lance's makeup, at least he has the Aphrodite kids to do this with, and a black rectangle with a white ribbon tied around it like a birthday present.

Wait, what?! I go back to the rectangle box I take it out of the suitcase net and place it on my coffin bed, as I look through Lance’s things to see the same box but it was a black square with a sea blue ribbon around it, just like mine a black box and blue and white ribbons that sounded like what Mom did for are birthday presents, she would do this theme for years.

Where these are...are...why did...why did... before I know it I was holding Lances gift in my arms crying, Lance must have heard me because not a second later did he thrust open the bathroom door “what's wrong?” he asked all I did was show him his blue ribbon box instantly understanding, he walked and knelt down to me giving me a hug, “it’s ok, we were going to stay here the whole summer, so of cores she had it all planned out” he tells me as I calm down and stop my tears “know come on don’t want the entire camp to now you're a big crybaby” he teased.

As we get up I noticed he also wore ice blue pants and an old brown jacket with a “is that the camp t-shirt?” I asked him “yes, I found it beside my bed” I then looked over my bed and found my own “I already changed, I ain't doing that again,” I tell him as we grab the boxes and head out to the pavilion.

As we walked we passed by some campers till a group of them came and stood in front of us, “hi” Lance said happily “so, your the twinadoes” said a boy with caramel skin, dirt brown hair, and brown eyes with the build of a wrestler I look closely at them at their body language, way of talking and the glint in their eyes “Ares?” I asked them I guess I was right because they all had shocked looks on there face “h-how did you?” one of them asked “we saw some Ares kids walking out of there cabin yesterday, and your body language was just like there’s” explained Lance as we walked past them.

As we made it to the Pavilion we found Nico sitting with Will at the Apollo table, looking at Lance we agreed not to bother them as we made it to our table with our breakfast served “I wonder..” started Lance as he was looking closely at the black box. “no” I tell him knowing what he was thinking “but she left it behind what if it's some cool magic weapons, like in the stories” he said trying to justify why we should open the black gift. “I don't think it’s a good idea,” I tell him “well I'm opening mine.”

He as he pushed his tray aside as he Netley untied the box, then tying the ribbon on his hair as he opens the box to reveal two rings, they were resting under a navy blue holder the rings had a black ring with small white gems decorated on both sides with a sodalite gemstone on both rings. “Beautiful,” we said together looking at the amazing craftsmanship and design it definitely suited Lance I guess he agreed with me because not only a second letter did he try them on, one on each thumb.

“Wow, this is so cool, open yours,” he said happily as I also opened my gift gently untying the ribbon then tying it in my hair as well, as I opened the box what was in it was a pen and not just any pen but a Conway Stewart Westminster Teal Pen. Those things are the world's most expensive and lavish pens in the world “holy” I started “shit” Lance finished the pen’s design was a rose like carving around it in silver behind a black background.

“Whoa, Mom...she really went all out huh” he said as I grabbed the pen as I uncapped it a flash of light and in its place was a 5 '7 silver sphere with a black bald at the top of it “wha..” just then another light which came from Lance “wha…” he said looking over his rings turned into a Beretta m9 9mm military grand the other was a .44 desert eagle they were the M9 had a silver setting with sea green lines well the Eagle was black with silver lines around it.

“What!!” we shouted as we looked at the black weapons “calm down,” said Nico as he and Percy came running towards us “what happened? where did you get these” he asked “ummm…..are Mom left them behind as a gift but we were just looking at them” I explained “mine where two rings and Lana's was a pen, then she opened the cap and there was a light and the spear came out of nowhere and then my rings turned into guns after I closed my hands together and holy Hare I am holding a freaking firearm, HENRY HELP??!?!?!” Lance dramatically yelled as he released his hold on the guns causing them to transform back into rings.

“How did you” I was about to ask him “I have no idea” he tells me I looked at the spear and in my hand was the cap I placed the cap on top of the spear and it turns back into a pen "good you figured out how to work them but can you refrain from using them around the other camper."

Chiron said as he walked towards us "why?" Lance asked he simply pointed at the other campers who had all ran out of the pavilion the only ones left where some older campers from each table and "are those the hunters of Artemis?!" I said as I saw them all staring at us but somewhere shaking "what's wrong with them?" I asked Chiron.

"It's your weapons has Stygian Iron that emits a dark and terrifying aura that scares others" explains Nico we both looked down at the black and silver gifts Mom left behind "wow," we said together.

*******

The rest of the day was uneventful just the normal camp schedule except when some of the Area kids from before picked a fight with me. Let's just say half the camp thinks Lance and I aren't really twins, but other than that everything was normal, in a camp filled with demigod funny right so it was around after dinner we had captured the flag which was a daily game.

But today sins the huntresses where hear it was them vs the whole camp, which at first didn't seem fair but I was told that the camp has only won twice in the past hundred years that must hurt someone's pride. We would have joined but Percy said not to he thinks the Area kids would jump me or Lance, either way, there will be an ass kicking, but he still said no so here we are with a hellhound yes guys a hellhound at first I thought it was Nico's but really she was Percy's we played with her and the black pegasus that caught Lance, blackjack was his name.

"I wonder who's winning," he said as he placed more wood onto the campfire which was dying down unusually fast, "my money's on the huntresses, you?." He thought for a moment before saying "yeah, your right they'll win" we both laughed in agreement of the fact that the camp couldn't win this "dang you two are curl" we stopped and looked around "did you…." I tell him he nods "umm Lana I think it came from blackjack," he said as we both looked at the horse in question, but instead of words we only heard horse noise "what is going on," I said, "maybe we should tell Chiron."

Lance said nodding to him agreeing to that plane just when a horn was played and all the campers and hunters came rushing out of the woods with, dang it, a camp-half blood flag held by Percy and Jason. As everyone sat down with their siblings around the fire which sins we got there looked alive “excellent battle everyone” said Chiron looking proud I guess this is a rare moment for him, “now I know you all might already know I wish you to welcome Lance and Lana McClain descendants of Lord Hades.”

As he said this we stood up as everyone was looking at us I heard a noise, I turned to see where it came from and it was from the woods. “Does anyone hear that?” I loudly asked interrupting Chiron “hear what-” started Percy but was interrupted when a girl with red curly hair like a lion's mane stood up gasping and her eyes shifted to a smoke green she then said.

“Sea and death shell bare twins.

That will rise above creations sins,

shell travel south with the youngest son of the sky's

and find where the eldest goddess lies,

Sea and death shall find the key but

loses sight of what they truly see

for a choice, they shell mack,

for love or heartbreak

and may they find themselves in a bind

For a friend Shell meat there end

As if that was the signal just as she finished the noise from before got louder to the point everyone heard it. “HELLHOUNDS?!?!” Yelled Percy as he got out his sword, so did everyone else good thing they were in armor the fight broke out “look out!” one yelled “behind you!” another shouted “duck!” Shouted another that's what I heard throughout the fight campers and hunters working together fighting, sins Lance and I were new to this we were protected along with the younger campers “SHAY!!” we heard Rex shout in a panic I turned to see the second worst scene of my life.

It was Shay she lost her weapon and a hellhound on top of her….it was to closes…..too close...too close no, no no it was going to kill her, monsters eat demigods….it was going to eat her...eat her...h...her {Mom} “NOOO!” Screamed a voice it took the sourness of my throat to realizes it was me, I felt warm like I was raped in blankets but also cold, not painful needles digging into my skin cold but a chilling cold like how Mom always felt, warmth yet cold home?.

I then open my eyes I see a faint light I look up green….it was a green triton and a gray feathers. “wha….?” Is all I get out before Chiron starts saying something “Laura Amara Nyx Aleja and Lorenzo Alejandro Nicholas Calisto Erebos McClain Descendants of Thanatos, reaper of souls, Holder of the doors of death, children of Poseidon earthshaker, Stormbreaker and crater of horses king of the seas we welcome thee” just as he finished my vision went black.

********

As the twins fainted two older campers closest to them caught them before they fell onto the ice, yes the ice that covers every part of where the hellhounds and camp members were. Which in some cases somewhere in cast the hounds or even pierced right through them some of the campers were protected in domes of clear ice or flaming skeleton hounds that when summoned started ripping the other apparat as well as keeping the campers worm.

“They did this?” asked Thalia “yup, they did” replied Leo “this is amazing” said Piper “and dangerous, they need to learn control before they get themselves hurt” added Annabeth as the ice melted and the flame hounds returned to earth “let's get everyone inside” orders Chiron as everyone got up and walked back to their cabins the two boys caring Lance and Lana looked around confused.

“Umm...sir, where do we take them?” he asked as Chiron thought for a moment “take them to the Hades cabin” he said as everyone finally got back into their cabins, the twins sleeping soundly in their beds mostly “it's them isn't it” Percy said just as the last counselor enters the meeting room “yes” said Chiron Percy just sighed excepting the fate of his now half siblings he then starts walking out the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Jason “I need a minute” is all he said as the door closed behind him.

*******

#Heros Of Olympues #voltron #Lance and Lana #Twins Of Olympus

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wizard-finix · 2 months

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Summary:

Minato had no idea what was going on. One moment, all of S.E.E.S. had been gathered together for a Tartarus run, fighting their way through the Tziah block. Now he was here, with an unfamiliar Gekkoukan student claiming to be a member of S.E.E.S., and eight masked persona users claiming to know Minato personally. Nine, if he included their talking cat. --- (Persona Q2: The Ghost of Mementos edition!)

#stygian ringlet #pq2 edition baby!!!#pt!minato #persona 3 #persona 5 #p3 #p5 #pq2 #my writing

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wizard-finix · 1 year

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Update!

#persona 3 #persona 5 #minato arisato #my writing #stygian ringlet #gonna start posting updates to this too on tumblr #because Why Not #p3 #p5

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wizard-finix · 6 months

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Update!

#stygian ringlet #pt!minato #persona 3 #persona 5 #p3 #p5 #my writing

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wizard-finix · 11 months

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had trouble picking just one scene but... for the director's commentary ask meme, the scene from the beginning of chapter 13 of stygian ringlet?? the one that starts "Minato was alone wandering the darkened streets of Tokyo." 👀

Ooh, this scene! I have thoughts on this scene 👀

I was actually a little unsure about including this scene. Originally, I was going to just start the chapter with Minato just waking up. But then I thought, why not add in a nightmare to kick off the next arc? Minato’s just had the single most emotionally stressful two days since coming back to life. He watched a friend be arrested with no guarantee that he would survive, ended up getting arrested himself, and reunited with Akihiko. Also, there’s questions he has that haven’t been completely answered yet, such as what him remaining alive might mean for the PTs and SEES. And of course, his fear of Erebus and the Fall happening if he’s not there to stop it.

He’s got a lot on his mind, that’s for sure.

I also wanted to put in some foreshadowing for the Shido’s palace arc and Minato’s internal conflict, so I though the nightmare he was having could serve that purpose. Minato wants to live, and he’s determined to see things through to the end with the PTs. He’s one of them now too! He made a promise, and he even forged his own will of rebellion to live through that promise! But he knows that there would be a heavy price to pay for doing so, so it’s a selfish wish he can’t bring himself to ask for. I want to address those conflicting feelings during Shido’s palace.

There was actually a specific element to the nightmare I was uncertain about, which was this:

“Minato began running towards him, only to feel a sharp, painful tug stop him just short.

He quickly recovered, straining against whatever was pulling him back, trying to close the distance between them. “Ren,” he called out.

(…)

Minato reached a hand forward, desperately trying to close the distance between them, the pull digging even harder against his soul with a hundred sharpened points as he strained to reach him—”

For this, I was actually attempting to allude to Minato’s remaining ties to the seal with this particular bit by invoking the feeling of those barbed wires restricting him. There was actually one other time I hinted at this same feeling, right before he awakened in ch. 4 of Ghost of Mementos! (which was actually a bit of a happy accident that worked out in my favor, haha.) I was considering editing this passage to have him actually look at himself and see the barbed wire though, instead of just feeling the sensation. I wasn’t sure if it was coming across clear enough, but I didn’t want to be too on-the-nose? Decisions, decisions

As for other specific elements to Minato’s dream, I liked making the red tinge of the Metaverse actually turn out to be the light of Nyx’s giant eye; I feel like it highlights his worry about Nyx coming.

Also, Minato’s worries about Ren ending up killed in custody subconsciously got associated with old memories of seeing Shinjiro shot in an alley and being unable to save him, so that memory definitely influenced the nightmare he was having. So that's uhhh not fun for him!

Minato’s nightmare was a fun attempt at foreshadowing while also trying to show that Minato is definitely pretty stressed at this point in the story.

(And maybe also an excuse to indulge in a bit of angst. Because angst is always fun to occasionally sprinkle in.)

Thanks for the ask! :D

#stygian ringlet #ghost of mementos #p3 #p5 #ask #THANKS RAGE UR A REAL ONE

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wizard-finix · 9 months

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Update!

#persona 3 #persona 5 #p3 #p5 #pt!minato #stygian ringlet #my writing

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wizard-finix · 1 year

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oooh 🦜🦉 :D ! ! ! !

HELLO RAGE MY FELLOW PERSONA ENJOYER, THANK U FOR THE ASK I GOT THE GOODS JUST FOR U

🦜 a pretty quote(you like the prose, or symbolism, or it's poetic, or you just like how it feels/the word choice!)

I know u love Akihiko (I do too) so have a future scene with Akihiko and Sae for Stygian Ringlet:

A thermos was suddenly placed on her desk in front of her with a dull thunk. Sae looked up and nearly startled. “Sanada?” “Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I do work here, you know.” “What are you doing here?” she asked, dropping her voice low so no one would overhear. “I thought you worked at the station, not the courthouse.” “I had to drop something off for a case,” Sanada explained. “Figured you were gonna come looking for me anyway, so I thought I’d save you the trouble.” He glanced at the mess that was her desk. “Wow. And I thought Mitsuru was a workaholic.” Sae resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Sanada was… very straightforward. Not quite what she expected, but strangely easy to talk to. "I just have a lot of work to do," she said. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to leave the office until late today.” Sanada grimaced in sympathy. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll be working late too,” he said. “After the whole fiasco with the kid, everyone’s gonna be pulling some long hours for a while.” She hummed thoughtfully. “In that case, would you like to go get takeout together later?” “Sure,” said Sanada. “Got a place in mind?” Sae gave a tired sigh. “Normally, I would get conveyor belt sushi with—” She paused. “...With a coworker after days like this. But with everything that’s happened lately, I don’t feel very much like sushi right now.” Sanada looked thoughtful. “...How about I show you one of my favorite spots, then? I know a good beef bowl place not far from here.” “Beef bowls?” Sae asked. She thought about it for a moment. “...I suppose that does sound good."

I wasn’t expecting Akihiko and Sae to end up having a friendship dynamic, but they DO and it ranges somewhere between “accomplice partners in crime” and ”🤝 our workplace sucks, actually” and I am SO looking forward to actually getting to those parts in the fic. I love my p3 boys

🦉 a clever quote (something you're proud of!)

This continues off of the scene above, but I was having some fun digging into Akihiko’s reasons for picking the career he did (since I noticed it’s a little controversial among persona fans) and I’m a lil proud of this analysis:

“Why did you become a police officer in the first place?” asked Makoto. Akihiko paused as he considered the question. “I was never much good at detective work like Shirogane is. I’m no tech expert, I’m not all that good with kids, and I’m not really into business or management. I’m a guy who’ll have your back in a fight, but that’s about it.” Akihiko shrugged. “Somehow that ended up with me at the police academy. It’s not a fun job; hell, half the time I hate it, but I’ve got my reasons for sticking with it. And trying is better than doing nothing, I guess.” “If you hate it so much, you could have just stayed a Shadow Operative,” said Sae. “Although I suppose I’m not one to talk.” “I know I could have,” he said, remembering the few years after graduation he’d spent trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life now that the Dark Hour was gone. He had taken care of Ken up until he decided to move into the dorms on his own in the meantime, and helped Mitsuru where he could with the newly formed Shadow Operatives, but there weren’t any shadows to fight for a while. Looking out for the others was really the only thing that he wanted, but that wasn’t exactly a career option. He’d also tried out professional boxing for a while, and he had liked it, but making a career out of what was more of a high school hobby lost its appeal after a while. “So why didn’t you?” asked Makoto. Akihiko thought about the question, trying to come up with the words for an answer. “I guess… I just want to be the kind of adult the three of us would have liked to have around growing up. Ken, too, after he lost his mom.” For years it had just been him, Shinji, and Miki at the orphanage. Then just him and Shinji, up until the point where they’d been recruited by Mitsuru. Akihiko could count on his fingers the number of adults that had actually looked out for them during that time. There was one of those adults that Akihiko thought about when he considered going into police work. It wasn’t much, but he remembered the way Officer Kurosawa had supplied Akihiko and Shinjiro— two orphaned, rough-looking middle schoolers known for picking fights— with a meager selection of confiscated weapons, suspecting that something was wrong in Iwatodai and giving them the means to protect themselves. In hindsight, he had definitely been breaking several laws to do so, yet he did it anyway simply because he believed it was the right thing to do. Something about that stuck with Akihiko, even now. (When he thought about it later on, he wondered if Kurosawa had ever experienced the Dark Hour. It would have explained why he thought giving them weapons was the best way to help, or why he had so much faith in them. He hadn’t seen Kurosawa since graduation, so he never got the chance to ask.) Besides, Mitsuru, Aigis, and Shirogane were heavily involved in police and government affairs. Akihiko wasn’t a rich heiress or a detective; his options to help were limited. So he did the next best thing: taking up a police badge just so he could be there to have their backs when they needed it, so his closest friends and allies wouldn’t fight alone. He’d promised Shinjiro he would take care of them, after all.

Thanks for the ask!! :D (and also the motivation to work on this fic again lmao)

#my writing #p3 #p5 #ask #stygian ringlet #did I maybe go overboard? perhaps but it sparks joy #seriously do need to finish the next chapter I have gotten so badly sidetracked its unreal

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