#them as an accessory they look at him and want nothing more than to destroy his life <3333333

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 29

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“Neil, why do you have Smith’s phone?” Andrew asks as the two of them are setting out plates for lunch. Neil startled and looked down at the phone that he had just sat at the table and furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? This is mine?” Neil asks. He knows his phone even if he’s not really the best with them.

The one that Andrew had given him his Freshman year had died after it got run over by the Maserati when Neil left it on the roof of the car by accident. The second one Andrew had gotten him had been destroyed in rather spectacular fashion earlier in the year when he’d had a bit of a freak out on January 19th. The team knew better than to text him on that particular day now but Andrew had said that he’d take custody of his phone this year. Wymack had stepped in with a phone that same day before Andrew could buy him a new one and that phone had been launched at the Baseball captain that summer.

All this to say, Neil is now looking at the phone in concern because it is highly likely he swapped his with FF’s.

“No it’s not.” Andrew sighs and points to a corner, “You cracked yours up here.” He opens the phone and then the contacts and sure enough Neil doesn’t see his own contacts but the ones that Nicky had programmed into FF’s the day before.

“Oh, I guess I switched them at the hospital.” He says with an embarrassed blush. Maybe he should get a little accessory to differentiate his phone from the other ones that Wymack has gotten.

There’s a slight commotion in the kitchen, “Kevin, stop trying to add vanilla protein powder to Smithy’s soup!” Nicky shouts.

“He needs protein to heal properly! That nutritionist might just feed him a loaf of bread since he is using an outdated model!” Kevin argues back.

“Kevin the doctor said clear soup also do you want to make Smiths sick? Vanilla protein powder and chicken broth?” Aaron asks disgust evident.

“I’d use unflavored but this is all that’s in the house and I am not going shopping until this weekend is over.” Kevin argues back.

“Smiths went out shopping on Black Friday and came back unscathed. He even went out into the worst of it just to get some groceries for baking and breakfast.” Aaron says with a huff.

“He still got stabbed!” Kevin returns.

“Kevin, he was definitely not grocery shopping when he got stabbed.” Nicky shoots back.

“He needs-“

“Przywiążę cię do krzesła.” Neil hears Smith’s Grandma cut Kevin off. Her tone is so sweet just like it has been the last couple times she has interrupted an argument between them all. She really has warmed up to them since Andrew confessed.

Nicky lets out a loud bark of laughter.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, cutting onions make me laugh.” Nicky returns quickly.

Kevin walks out of the Kitchen with the same gooey expression he’s gotten every time Smith’s Grandma has said something sweet to him but considering how often and how hard Nicky laughs at what she says he wonders if she’s just sassing him in a sweet tone.

He really needs to pick up a phrase book.

He might like her even more if his theory is correct.

“It shouldn’t be a big problem.” Neil says but he is a bit more careful as he moves FF’s phone away from where it could get damaged. “Smith is definitely asleep. He looked really tired.” Neil says and it twists his own stomach to think about how FF looked in his hospital bed. FF wouldn’t take anything more than the bare minimum when it came to pain medication.

Each “I’m fine.” He gave had him coming to a deeper and deeper understanding of how frustrating it is to have someone who is CLEARLY not fine say they are.

“I’m more concerned about who might text you.” Andrew says.

Neil shrugs, “Ichirou is more the type to just show up.” Because it’s true. Every time he’s met Ichirou there had been very little warning.

Andrew frowns but then Nicky is coming out with lunch. It was nothing fancy but a home cooked meal always made Neil feel warm. Smith’s grandma had just been using what was in their pantry so far but the two other meals (and her pie) had been amazing.

“Lunch is ready. We’ll head back to the hospital afterwards to see when Smithy can get discharged.” Nicky says putting a large bowl of pasta in the center of the table. Aaron came out a moment later with the Parmesan shaker and the protein powder bottle.

“Here you go Kevin, add as much as you want to your own meal.” Aaron says in a sweet tone just like Smith’s Grandma.

“Eat shit Aaron.” Kevin scowls now knocked out of his gooey expression as fills his plate with pasta and reaches for the Parmesan.

Neil can’t help but let out a puff of laughter at the interaction and lets the worry of being away from his phone slide away. FF was sleeping, he was safe, and Ichirou had not expressed any interest in talking to him.

“Pass that to me when you’re done.” Neil asks pointing at the Parmesan as he fills his and Andrew’s plates.

***

There had been a plan.

Nathaniel Wesninski was supposed to be at this hospital at least according to his cell phone location. His future investment was not the best at keeping that device on him though so he was willing to wait when there were no signs of the Wesninski. There would, of course, be a cost for his patience. He had his men go seek out the uninvolved civilian. If Wesninski came back and found his friend threatened due to his lackadaisical nature with his phone perhaps he’d remember to keep it on him.

Except now that very uninvolved civilian is sitting in front of him. The ’Smith’ that Wesninski had spoken of.

He sees Wesninski’s phone sat on the table and his eyes go back to the young man in front of him. He wonders if this was some ploy by Wesninski, some statement. This young man in front of him took out one of the Butcher’s top men on his own.

He’d confirmed it when he’d gone to see Jackson earlier that day. He went to remind them what would happen if they tried to turn over anything to the Federal agents and to see how two of his biggest headaches had been taken out so suddenly.

Jackson talked about how Wesninski’s friend hadn’t seemed surprised to find him in the alley, had seemed like he had been expecting it and how swiftly he had been taken out. Wesninski’s guard dog had gone out afterwards and they’d lead Romero into a trap that resulted in his arrest and this civilian swearing up and down that Romero was the one that stabbed him even though Romero asserts that he never had a firm grip on the knife.

A great way to ensure he was held by the police while they were fully investigated. They wouldn’t have much time to investigate either of the Butcher’s remnants. Ichirou was only offering the choice between something painful or something easy.

The young man in front of him offered nothing, waiting for Ichirou to begin the talks. His expression clearly showing that he’d happily wait Ichirou out as if he was long used to tense silences. There is no doubt that this man in front of him knows exactly who he is but he still has the audacity to wait him out.

“Where is Wesninski?” He tightens his fist at having to ask first.

“That’s not Captain Neil’s last name anymore.” FF returns with the first hint of expression on his face being a frown.

The first piece of information given. So, loyal to Nathaniel and not to the Wesninski line. Loyal to Captain Neil.

“Captain Neil is getting lunch.” He answers, “I’m the only one here for you to talk to right now.” He adds after a moment putting his hands on the table.

Ichirou can understand what isn’t being said.

“Does, Josten, realize you’re here?” He asks taking care to use Wesninski’s new last name knowing he wouldn’t get his answers otherwise. He has a hard time imagining the man who was so loyal to his friends purposefully leaving this one to act as defense for him.

Wesninski had been very clear during his brief phone conversation with him, “Smith was just caught up in all of this. He’s not a threat to you Lord Moriyama.” He had said voice steady and without a hint of a lie.

“In the hospital? Of course.” He returns, “Down here talking to you? He’ll probably be upset.” he says after a moment.

“And yet, you’re here.” He says mirroring the man’s own relaxed posture.

Loyal but willing to do something that might displease the one he is loyal to if it would keep them safe. Ichirou stops himself from looking to his left where his most loyal man stood. Connor had stepped in front of threats he hadn’t seen coming plenty of times, had questioned him even when Ichirou had threatened to cut out his tongue for it, and had always had the courage to look Ichirou in the eye when he explained himself no matter how injured he was or how irate Ichirou was.

It’s something rare and it seems like it is something Wesninski has found unknowingly.

“Yes, I’m here to talk about Friday night.” He says, “I assume you’ve already spoken with Romero and Jackson.” He says moving the conversation away from Wesninski. Bringing Ichirou’s attention and possible ire to himself.

A truly rare find in his world.

“Yes, let’s talk about Friday night.” He agrees.

***

What was it about the Smith family and making great food?

It was just a simple combination of canned tomatoes, butter, pasta, onions, cheese, spices and garlic but it had Neil going for a third serving. Smith’s Grandma had really made enough to feed an army and when he’d commented Nicky had just reached over and tried to pinch his cheek fat only for his fingers to find little to grab onto, “You’re too thin! Eat more!” He exclaimed before repeating it to Smith’s Grandma in Polish who nodded earnestly.

Wymack was at the table after he took a shower. Kevin was still trying to convince Aaron of all people that he should be allowed to put protein powder into the clear soup that was simmering on the stove top for FF. The dietary restrictions someone faced while they were healing from stomach surgery was no joke.

The other Dealer had dropped despite Wymack and Neil’s best attempts to get Lisa to stay. Seemed determined to head back to her small town and rejoin the family cult she had escaped from. He’d been worried about her going home but she had insisted she’d be back.

It was unfortunate but it was also Lisa’s choice.

His stomach twists wondering if FF is going to go back to Washington with his Grandma when he gets released. There had barely been a whisper of danger from Neil’s past since Ichirou had put that bullet in Riko’s head and now one of his few friends that had been entirely uninvolved in that nightmare was in the hospital because of him.

Andrew elbows him.

Neil turns to look and Andrew is carefully putting a penne pasta on each prong of his fork, “I can hear you worrying.” He says in Russian.

“What if Smith leaves?” He responds back in the same language.

“He has the right to.” Andrew shrugs and shoves the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t want him to.” Neil admits, FF is a friend. A good friend.

“He still can leave even if you don’t want him to.” Andrew says as he proceeds to once again put a penne pasta on each of his fork’s prongs. “I don’t think he will though.” He adds before shoving his fork into his mouth again.

Neil blinks, “Why?” He asks.

FF isn’t like how Neil was his Freshman year, he’s steady and sure but Neil wouldn’t blame the Freshman if ‘possibly being killed off by remnants of my Captain’s crime family’ is a step too far for FF. Wouldn’t blame FF if he runs.

“He still calls you Captain Neil.” He says reaching over and squeezing Neil’s knee with his hand.

Neil blinks.

He thinks.

FF laid out on the concrete as Andrew worked to stem the blood from his stab wound, “It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” He exclaims ready to make a joke even as he’s bleeding because of a situation Neil’s existence put him in.

FF still floating from the initial large amount of pain medication he was on pulling on Neil’s sleeve, “I’m glad you’re okay Captain Neil.” Before falling back into his drugged sleep.

FF’s eyes softening as Neil offered to get a nurse to give him more pain medication, “Really Captain Neil, I’m fine.” He says.

He lays his own hand over Andrew’s.

“I guess he does.” He offers a small tentative smile.

“Eat your pasta Junkie.” Andrew says in English now.

“You’re too thin!” Nicky reminds him and Smith’s Grandma must have picked up on the terminology since she nods earnestly in agreement as the two of them were packing up leftovers and the soup Smith’s Grandma had made for him so they could head back to the hospital to keep FF company.

***

“Why did you go out into the alley?” Ichirou asks.

“Isn’t it better that I was in the alley?” The man across from him asks with a raised brow, as if Ichirou was asking a strange question. “If I had stayed in the club, who knows what would have happened or how many people would have been hurt.” He explains without Ichirou needing to lower himself to asking.

There’s truth to that.

It’s been on the news that the remaining Wesninski inner-circle had been captured but since there’d only been one injury it had been largely overshadowed by news regarding the mass injury incidents surrounding Black Friday. If Romero had started had gotten the general public involved this would be much harder for him to silence the ones involved.

Still…

“This has caused me quite a bit of trouble. It does not look good that I am not the one who found them.” He says because there’d been talks from some of the old men he had yet to rid himself of from his Father’s time. They had wanted the remaining Wesninski men to be brought back into the fold but there was little chance of that happening now. Ichirou planned on disposing them after showing that they were worthless and using it as an excuse to start removing some of the dead weight from his father’s time.

Ichirou was not a man who tolerated incompetence.

“Isn’t it better that they were taken into custody like this?” The man across from him asks, “They were some of the Butcher’s best from what Captain Neil has told me. The fact that it only resulted in me going to the hospital and they were taken out by Andrew and I is one of the better outcomes.” He says.

Ichirou pauses and considers it.

The two men that those relics had wanted for their ‘competence’ and ‘ability’ had been taken out in a way that showcased what Ichirou had thought of them. They were sloppy, they were over-confident, and worst of all they were incompetent.

“Before I forget.” Smith says and his hand goes to the bulge in his jacket pocket.

Ichirou can feel Conner tense behind him and he wonders where this had gone wrong or how the conversation had broken down but he doesn’t have long to wonder about it as Smith pulled something out that was unmistakable as a toy with it’s bright yellow coloring. Smith sets it on the table between them and Ichirou cannot help the confusion that must show on his face despite his many years of training to keep his face blank.

“What is that?” Conner asks sounding utterly bewildered behind him.

“I used this to temporarily blind Jackson during our fight. I figure it would be useful evidence for you.” Smith says.

He hears a bark of laughter to his right as Michael reaches for the toy.

Useful evidence indeed.

It would be easy to show this as a sign that those relics could hardly be trusted to have an opinion in how he ran his empire. Those men they so prized taken out by a children’s toy.

This has gone to his benefit.

“So it would seem.” He finally says, “I will make sure to reward your assistance.” He says wanting a stronger hold over the man in front of him, a tie of some sort to the Moriyama family.

Smith shakes his head in the negative. “I didn’t do anything noteworthy. Whatever it is should go to Captain Neil.” He argues.

Rare find indeed.

“It will be done.” He says and figures with the additional cash flow eliminating the search for the Wesninski men, the removal of his father’s hanger-ons, and the blood he can squeeze from the family Romero and Jackson had intended to go to ( a supposedly allied family) he could more than afford to drop what his three Exy investments owed him as a percent.

His eyes shift over to Smith across from him and finds that he was even more willing to lower those percentages if he could not only drop the dead weight of his father’s empire but perhaps gain someone useful. “Still, I like to reward those who have directly benefitted me. We will take care of any and all hospital fees related to this incident.” He looks to his right and Michael nods.

Smith’s face doesn’t give much away, his pokerface was quite exceptional.

“Thank you." He accepts and says nothing else so Ichirou decides to make his offer.

“I have heard that you are studying languages.” He says.

“I am.” Smith says.

“Which ones do you know?” He asks.

Smith blinks, surprised by the question, “Fluently? French, German, Spanish, Polish, Dutch, Italian, R-“ he pauses and shakes his head, “Recently, I’ve been studying Japanese, Chinese, and some Korean.” He says strangely stumbling over a word for the first time this entire conversation.

A useful skill.

“If you ever find yourself looking for work,” Ichirou snaps his fingers and Conner had a card in his hand in an instant, consider reaching out.” He says before he offers it with both hands and is pleased when Smith accepts it with a slight bow before taking it with both hands. “I see you are also studying the etiquette.” He adds.

Smith looks up from the business card and he looks paler but Ichirou chalks it up to the fact that bowing slightly with his current stomach status likely hurt far more than he had let on. “If you don’t know the etiquette you only know half of the language.” He says and Ichirou quite likes the sentiment.

“Tell Josten that I no longer need to speak with him. Our conversation was satisfactory.” Ichirou says as he rises to his feet.

“I will do that…Lord Moriyama.” Smith says bowing his head politely.

***

The sight of Ichirou Moriyama was always going to be one that made Neil nervous.

The only good thing about seeing him right now was that Kevin had gone with Coach and Aaron in a separate car so that the two of them could continue their argument about protein powder in FF’s soup and Andrew had snagged a spot up front while Coach would have to park farther back.

“Lord Moriyama, I did not expect to see you here.” He greets head down and he almost goes to his knees if it wouldn’t have attracted the sort of attention that Ichirou hated from the public. He just hopes that Andrew isn’t scowling and that Nicky and Smith’s Grandma can keep quiet.

“Perhaps if you kept your phone with you then my appearance would not be such a surprise.” Ichirou comments idly, “Though I suppose I did have a very beneficial conversation with Smith. Quite a bright young man you have as a friend.” He compliments and Neil’s head shoots up in surprise at it.

Ichirou had spoken with FF.

FF who was fading in and out of consciousness.

“I have faith that he will not reveal anything.” Ichirou adds and Neil clenches his fist and wants desperately to ask what happened. Wants to know what state he’s going to find his friend in. “I have not done anything to harm him, you are lucky to have a…friend like that.” Ichirou says as if physical damage was the only thing that Ichirou Moriyama was capable of.

“Yes Lord Moriyama, he is a very talented and skilled defenseman.” He says hoping that if nothing else Ichirou’s desire for Neil and Kevin’s future profitability would have him reconsider doing anything in the future to FF to ensure they would have good showings for the professional teams.

“Yes, he was quite talented in your defense.” Ichirou nods, “I will reach out with details of our new deal once some affairs have settled. Take care of your friend, Josten.” Ichirou says before continuing out of the hospital.

New Deal?

Neil banished the thought from his head. They needed to get up to FF’s room and he needed to make sure his friend was okay and find out what exactly had happened.

Andrew’s hand came to the back of his neck and squeezed, “Calm down.” Andrew ordered voice soothingly blank even if Neil could feel the way his grip stuttered. “Let’s go.”

***

The Nurses were saying something about ‘aggravating stitches’ and ‘lucky nothing tore’ but it was all white noise to FF as he continues to think about the business card burning a hole in his pocket.

Ichirou Moriyama.

He’d just had an entire conversation with Ichirou Moriyama.

His stomach was already hurting from his ill advised walk but the moment he’d seen that name on the business card he had accepted his insides had been pure acid. He missed his Pepto Bismol more than anything right now, what he would give for just a single hit of the sweet pink relief.

He couldn’t figure out what was worse.

The fact that he had given over EVIDENCE to the head of a Yakuza group (was it a yakuza group or was it a mafia group?).

The fact that he’d been right in his thoughts from the abyss that the man in the cafeteria looked like a Yakuza member (was it a Yakuza or Mafia?).

The fact that he’d just seen a Japanese guy and thought ‘Oh, must be the Japanese FBI guy I’m supposed to talk to’ which means he’d still been kind of racist.

The fact that he just realized that he had Captain Neil’s phone and not his own meaning that Ichirou had been telling Captain Neil to come to the cafeteria and FF just showed up like a dipshit trying to pitch their lie about the alley.

Finally there was the fact that Ichirou Moriyama had apparently been impressed enough to offer him a spot within his Yakuza group (Yakuza or Mafia?)

Would it be weird to ask during the interview process? Is there an interview process to join organized crime? Do they have benefits? Wait a crime family is paying for his hospital stay right now. This is too much.

He considers asking the nurse to yes please crank up the pain killers and just let him slip into a nice not embarrassing coma but then Captain Neil and Andrew were rushing into his room. “Smith!” Captain Neil exclaims.

Well, too late to ask for that coma.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The  requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few  different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I  promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be  something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

Polish in this chapter:

Przywiążę cię do krzesła = I will tie you to a chair

[lu-is-not-ok]

This fucking guy.

Anyway have some of my incoherent ramblings about this man under the read more because I have a lot to say about him.

Alright, let me split this into three sections because otherwise this ramble will be even more of a mess than it already is.

I'm gonna discuss Yi Sang in the mirror, or Sang Yi, under a couple of different lights.

One, how he relates to the concept of being the opposite reflection to Yi Sang. Two, how he ties back to Yi Sang's wife from "The Wings". And three, some of my thoughts about how he might fit into the wider scope of the plot and world of Limbus Company.

Strap in lads.

Sang Yi as a "left-handed" reflection

Something that becomes increasingly clear as we're shown interactions between Yi Sang and Sang Yi, and what is directly spelled out by the latter at the end of Canto IV's dungeon, is that Sang Yi is effectively the antithesis of much that makes Yi Sang, well... Yi Sang.

Yi Sang, at the core of everything, is a very sentimental and kind man. He cares a lot about the people around him, even if he doesn't always show it outwardly, and struggles to move on from whatever losses he experiences. Though he may claim otherwise, he's also constantly thinking about everything he's going through, which is what eventually leads him to the Mirror as a form of escapism from his curel reality.

Sang Yi on the other hand... is none of that.

Most of the 'comforting' words or advice Sang Yi offers to Yi Sang can be boiled down to "Stop caring or thinking about every little thing.", a sentiment that's directly in opposition of who Yi Sang is as a person.

Sang Yi finds the idea of feeling joy or despair over the past pointless. He thinks Yi Sang shouldn't feel guilty about his technology being used to exploit others because he already knew what he was getting himself into. He doesn't understand why Yi Sang would have trouble moving on if he were to lose Sang Yi.

Whereas Yi Sang is caring and emotionally-driven, Sang Yi is... I don't want to say uncaring, since he does seem to care about Yi Sang to some degree, but at the very least he is rather distant and logically-driven.

I think the moment that exemplifies that the most is when Yi Sang tells him Gubo doesn't care about him beyond using him as an accessory to prop himself up in the limelight, to which Sang Yi responds that it doesn't matter, that Yi Sang should use this as an opportunity to be in that limelight as well.

And, actually, speaking about that. Sang Yi doesn't really seem to think things through nearly as much as Yi Sang does. Or, at the very least, he doesn't care to look deeper than the surface level.

Sang Yi sees Gubo's attempts at connecting with Yi Sang as genuinely caring about him, whereas Yi Sang is able to see through them and realize Gubo is being entirely selfish here. Sang Yi sees the new League of Nine as something worth joining, while Yi Sang notices that it is nothing but a mockery of the old League. When Sang Yi learns of the new League's plan to destroy mirror worlds, his only reaction is that of mild curiosity without even a sign of concern.

All that being said, the biggest example of this might just be the fact that Sang Yi did not even realize just how badly Yi Sang was feeling until Yi Sang straight up told him there was nothing left for him in this world outside of Sang Yi.

Though we can't know for sure what exactly Sang Yi was feeling at the time, as all that we know about him is colored by Yi Sang's own bias towards him, I think it's fair to say that was the moment where it finally hit Sang Yi just how badly he fucked up by keeping Yi Sang stuck there all to himself.

Which, now that I think about it, transitions nicely to the other angle I want to look at.

Sang Yi as Yeongsim / Yi Sang's wife

First of all, just to lay it out there in the open, as fucking hilarious out of context as it sounds to say Yi Sang was his own wife all along, it's... actually not all that far off.

Beyond the fact that the Mirror is directly named after his wife in "The Wings", there's some other obvious signs that point to it. If you were to take the letters Yi Sang was writing to Sang Yi out of context, you could absolutely mistake them for something one would write to a lover too far away to be easily reachable. Plus, the way Yi Sang's first reaction to seeing Sang Yi is to call him "beautiful" in his mind?

Yeah, there's something to that.

And, of course, there's something to be said about the similarities between Sang Yi's role in Yi Sang's life, and the role Yi Sang's wife played in "The Wings".

That being the way both of them end up isolating Yi Sang, how both of them actively withhold information from him, and how Yi Sang sees them as perfect and without a fault even as they're hurting him.

I don't feel like talking about "The Wings" in depth right now as it's almost 5 am and I want to actually finish writing this fucking post at some point, but if you want to know what I'm comparing Sang Yi to, it's a short read that's easy to find a free pdf online for.

The fact that Sang Yi was trying to keep Yi Sang inside is probably the most spelled out one out of everything I'm talking about in this post. Not only does Sang Yi directly tell Yi Sang to stay with him (mind you he doesn't even ask), but Ishmael, as an outside observer, notes how Sang Yi was trying to keep Yi Sang in the room by making him afraid of the outside.

Actually, looking at when he finally offers Yi Sang the choice to leave, it's in a... very interesting way, shall we say?

Not only does Sang Yi try to make the option of staying sound as appealing as possible by bringing up that Yi Sang will be able to continue doing what he loves (or at least what Sang Yi believes Yi Sang loves), like continue working on the Mirror and keep talking to him.

On the other hand, Sang Yi is reluctant to even bring up the option that Yi Sang can leave, and when Yi Sang shows interest (note that Yi Sang's immediate reaction isn't a "I don't want to leave", it's a "I don't think I can leave"), he continues to make the option sound as unappealing as possible, while still making it clear that it is possible.

How Yi Sang doesn't need to be able to fly to leave, but he will struggle endlessly if he does. How Yi Sang can eventually find somewhere to call his home, but he will have to walk until his feet hurt and will have to settle for wherever or whatever he ends up resting at.

I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like the kind of encouragement or advice someone who had a person's best interest in mind would make.

Now, let's make some other facts clear while we're at it.

Sang Yi knew that Yi Sang had wings as well, after all, he calls that fact 'obvious' when he finally mentions it. However, he never directly told him he does, even as Yi Sang lamented to him about how (in his eyes) he himself had no wings. He only brings it up when Yi Sang is truly at his lowest.

Sang Yi knew what the effects of supplements Yi Sang was taking were, as he can tell exactly what will happen if Yi Sang stops taking them, or takes several at once. However, he never directly told him this until he gives Yi Sang a choice, even though he was clearly aware they were not beneficial.

Sang Yi knew that Yi Sang's room was always open, as he was confident that Yi Sang would be able to just leave on his own once the effects of the supplements cleared away. However, he never tells Yi Sang that, even when Yi Sang is making it clear he doesn't think he even can leave. It's actually one of the thing Yi Sang ends up finding out by himself.

Despite all of this... Yi Sang never stops to consider that Sang Yi might not have his best interests in mind. Sang Yi is his everything. He's perfect, flawless, the ideal self. He's the only thing Yi Sang has left.

Call me cynical, but it paints the ending of the Canto in a somewhat bittersweet light to me. After all, Sang Yi never has to apologize or even admit to anything, and Yi Sang still views him as positively as he always has.

I guess at the very least it's accurate to the book. After all, Yi Sang in "The Wings" ends up holding on to that perfect image of his wife to the very end.

Sang Yi as an entity

Okay I have no clever transition here like I did last time, but this is probably the thing about Sang Yi that's been bugging me the most.

Have you guys noticed just how much Sang Yi seems to know about Yi Sangs from different worlds? Those sweeping general statements about "All versions of Yi Sang" or "All Yi Sangs" that he makes with full confidence.

When Yi Sang assumes that Sang Yi can "be anywhere he wants" thanks to his wings, just how correct is he?

With the way Sang Yi talks about other Yi Sangs, it gives the impression that he's met a lot of them in the past. In fact, if that's true, it would recolor the meaning of Sang Yi's comment about his meeting with his particular Yi Sang "peculiar".

What's so peculiar about our Yi Sang specifically, if Sang Yi has met so many of them? Is it the method, the fact that it's through the mirror? Is it that Sang Yi finally found a Yi Sang that also had wings? Is it because our Yi Sang is the first one to contact him rather than the other way around?

And while we're on that topic, isn't the way Sang Yi talks about Yi Sangs kind of odd? It's always "All Yi Sangs" or "All versions of Yi Sang", as if he's not part of those Yi Sangs himself. It's like he's putting himself in the role of an outside observer, seperate from the concept of being a 'Yi Sang'.

Just what is Sang Yi, really? He implies he's the version of our Yi Sang that's inside the mirror, the one that "needs to be opposite, yet is quite alike" to the one outside, to explain why our Yi Sang would have wings if he saw them on Sang Yi, but like... He never directly says that's the case.

In fact, when Yi Sang asks Sang Yi about what the outside is like, Sang Yi weirdly dodges the question, saying it's all "the same tiring stuff". Another example of him withholding information aside, this all makes him seem rather fucking suspicious to me.

Just. What is he really?

God I hope we get to see him again, cause I really want to know what the fuck his actual deal is.

[shewantstowritefairytales]

You're Losing Me // Coriolanus Snow

~angsty drabble about the end of a relationship with Coriolanus Snow~

“Do you hate me?” he asked. I could see the anger in his eyes. What I would say would only upset him more.

“I don't hate you Coriolanus. I will never hate you.” I hadn’t convinced him, I was holding something back. He knew it, I knew it.

“Don’t lie to me! You promised you would never lie to me.” I didn’t want this. Saying it out loud would make it real, and it would destroy so much.

“Truly Coriolanus, I don’t hate you. I never have. But god, I hate what you have become.” He was angry, I know. Shocked by my honesty, and I already knew.

“What are you talking about? I don't understand.”

“I know you don’t.” and I should have stopped there. I should have taken back my words, apologized, and let it be, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted and once the words started to come out, I knew there was no stopping them. “Do you remember the way we were as children, Coriolanus? We were scared and hungry and we didn't have anything except for each other. We were always there for one another, always putting each other’s needs before our own.” I could see in his eyes as he remembered the way our pasts were intertwined, he couldn't see how things had changed. “The nights you would bring over your favorite blanket for me because I was ill, despite the fact it was your only warm blanket at home. Or the days I would share my lunch with you at school because I knew you wouldn't have any food at home for dinner. We made so many sacrifices for each other.” My heart ached as I thought of our childhoods, the way we survived because of each other. Nowadays, it felt like I spent all my time surviving him.

“Nothing has changed–”

“Everything has changed!! We grew up and you went away. I stayed here waiting for you because I knew you, and I loved you. Because you were it for me. Your heart knew mine, and your mind was beautiful. You were open and understanding and gentle. But then you came back and it was like something had been switched off in your mind. You had become short and stern. Your eyes were empty and your voice was cold. And still I stayed because I could tell you were hurting. Time went on and slowly it felt like you were coming back to me. Like on our wedding night when we sat on the floor in our reception clothes eating junk food. We laughed for hours about how ridiculous we must have looked, and I remember thinking ‘This is it, he’s home. Things are going to be normal, he is going to be okay.’ Coriolanus I stood by you from student to head gamemaker, all the way to becoming the youngest president of Panem. I was so proud and I understood that these job titles came with certain expectations and responsibilities that could not be avoided. I have never once complained about missed birthdays or anniversaries. I bit my tongue when I was brought to important outings, despite knowing that I would spend the evening being talked down to and would be expected to be nothing more than an arm accessory for you. I smiled politely and agreed with everything that was said. I lost myself to love you. With every inch of power you have gained Coriolanus, you have taken a step away from me. You say that you love me, you tell the world that you’re proud to have me by your side, but you can't see it. You can't see that I am dying inside. I am a shell of who I was. I live in painful silence, overly aware that my unhappiness would be an intrusion on this perfect life you have created for us.” My voice cracked, tears begging to fall as I took a shaky breath. My hands were shaking as I rubbed my palms against the sides of my dress, attempting to smooth down any non-existent wrinkles as a sort of grasp for some control of this terrible moment.

“You’re losing me, and you have done nothing to stop it.” The silence from him was expected, after all, to him this came out of nowhere. He had convinced himself and the world that things between us were perfect. To me, this was years in the making. For as long as I could remember, I had convinced myself it was necessary, losing myself to love him. To make myself dull so that he could shine. But this was the final straw. To accuse me of hating him when I have done all but kill myself to love him. I never asked him to choose me, I had convinced myself that one day all my sacrifices would lead him to put me first. But in the end I got no love, only accusations and disbelief. Only a single tear fell from my eyes as I saw the decision cloud into his eyes. He had decided that losing me would be worth it. I nodded and turned to walk out. Maybe losing me would be worth it for him, but not for me. I would find myself again.

[425599167]

Since Rings of Power introduced Tom Bombadil in a way that gave me mixed feelings, I want to talk about him. For movie-only people, Tom is a character in The Lord of the Rings who gets ignored in adaptations because he doesn't really move the plot along, a decision I accept, but he's important thematically.

When the four hobbits begin their journey, they need to avoid the ringwraiths by passing through a dangerous old forest. They're lost, the environment is stifling and the trees are trying to trap and kill them. They're in serious trouble, but when all hope seems gone, along comes Tom Bombadil to help! He's a fun-loving guy living out in the woods, having fun, singing songs, loving life. He's also as old as the world, completely immortal, too powerful to be threatened by anything in this spooky forest, and oh yeah he's totally immune to the influence of the Ring. He has many names given by many peoples, and all of them in some way translate as "eldest". Tom Bombadil is just what he's called now, it's not his real name, depending on what a real name even means to the first being in the world. He's a merry fellow. Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.

People complain about Tom not fitting with the rest of the world or story, but that's deliberate. Tom lives with his wife Goldberry, who is also supernatural but not the same type of being as whatever her husband is, and they are up to some fey shit. The hobbits are happy for the help, but Tom confuses them as much as he confuses readers because who is he? What is he? What the fuck is going on? When Frodo asks Goldberry "Who is Tom Bombadil?" she answers "He is."

Once the hobbits are in the house of Tom Bombadil (which just happens to have four spare beds and four spare seats at the table) they tell him the story of why they're traveling, and he asks to see the Ring. Even at this early stage, the Ring is trying to control Frodo, yet Frodo pulls it out and hands it over easily. When Tom puts the Ring on, nothing happens, then he does a sleight-of-hand trick with the Ring and gives it back to Frodo without any trouble. Not only is Tom unaffected, he can see Frodo when the latter wears the Ring and becomes invisible to everyone else. The reason Frodo could give the Ring to Tom might be because, since Tom cares nothing for it, letting Tom hold it doesn't count as giving it up.

Despite his reputation for obliviousness, there are hints of Tom knowing more than he lets on. Tom mentions being alive "before the Dark Lord came from outside", pays close attention when the ringwraiths are mentioned, and will dispose of local wights if they cause trouble, so he is aware of the evil forces at work even if he isn't actively fighting them. When Frodo puts on the Ring and tries to sneak away, Tom tells him to take the Ring off as his "hand's more fair without it", a comment I find very interesting. He dislikes the Ring, even if only because he considers it a gaudy accessory. Fitting his passive behavior, he didn't go out looking for the hobbits, but he says he expected them to come and waited for them, so he has some kind of interest in their journey.

Tom is the subject of many theories as to his nature, but I don't understand the confusion. To me, Tom is obviously an embodiment of the land. He's as old as the world because he is the world. The Ring can't affect him any more than it affected the river Isildur lost it in. To destroy Tom, Sauron would first need to conquer all other lands, to already rule over the world before snuffing out its personification. Tom is the world without any influence of Sauron: lively, happy, full of song, but a little eerie while possessing powers which are hard to define. That's why he's encountered so close to the Shire, and why the hobbits stay in his household before meeting Aragorn and heading towards Rivendell. Tom is the spirit of what they are trying to save, it makes sense for him to stand at the journey's threshold.

Tom is capable of these feats because he lacks any desire to control. Gandalf opposes Sauron, but that desire would make him susceptible to the Ring's influence, just like all the other characters opposing Sauron. They want to do good, but Sauron can twist any desire into a need to dominate. This is also why Tom can't help carry the Ring; if he began to care about it, he would no longer be immune. Tom's defining characteristic is minding his own damn business to a supernatural degree, something I'm not sure if Rings of Power understands. Tom is not a guy who makes or fits into plans.

I do like his song in RoP, though.

[shadale-s-safe-space]

Ok, gonna be real and say I love Pixie. I wanna know more about them. Backstories, Traits, Headcanons, and maybe I'm a little curious on how she kills her victims before/after a picture? Like, Does she have weapons or is all her methods hand-made?

Okay I'm gonna do a triple kill with this one. Sry couldn't draw a lot, like I legit can't so here's the story or whatnot. Probs gonna draw those in the future... also I fucking suck at writing but whatever >:T.

Starting off with the third question, no, not really, I know nothing about LoL.

CHILDHOOD

Pixie was created as a male in a loving family, he was specially close with his mother, and would spend most of his childhood surrounded and smothered with female attention as he found it hard to fit in with the male crowd.

His mother was capable of finding positivity and light in any situation even when it seemed like there was none, finding beaty behind every corner, shaping Pixie's world view that in every bad, there's something good. She quickly became Pixie's biggest role model.

EARLY TEENS

After the sudden death of both of his parents, Pixie struggled to find his positivity in life again. He would dress in female clothing, just like his mom used to wear so he could feel like their bond never fell apart.

"You'll always be a part of me"

One day, a group of girls approached him. They wanted him to be a part of their group. Being used to female attention, he fit right in. Pixie enjoyed his new friend group, and he started feeling better about his life.

Eventually, Pixie decided to change from he to she. He felt like it was the right thing to do for himself.

------

"Pixie take a picture of us!"

"Um.. okay, gather around"

***

"We look amazing!"

"Pixie, you're so good at this! You should be a photographer"

------

Noticing her hidden talent, they begged her not to waste it and pursue photography. And she did. She took pictures of strangers, her surroundings, and other... but most of all, her friends.

LATE TEENS

Pixie now an art enthusiast obsessed with constantly taking pictures, started annoying her friend group. Following them around, taking pictures of all of their activities but yet not sharing those pictures with others.

"Show me!"

"No, it looks bad, I'm gonna delete it" * "I'm just practicing, that's all, experimenting"

"You should ask us before taking pictures. It's uncomfortable"

"Ye-Yeah.. you're right..."

Pixie felt like her friend group had changed a lot over the years, she felt like she didn't fit in anymore. She didn't quite understand boundaries.. as her art was her everything and felt like her favorite muses... were slowly turning against her, stopping her from picturing perfection.

She still took pictures secretly. And became really good at hiding them,also collected many different cameras over the years. One of her favorites being the instant [Polaroid] and the DSLR.

-------

Of course, nothing can be hidden forever..

"YOU DID IT AGAIN! WE TOLD YOU ALREADY TO STOP!"

"I'm just practicing, that's-"

" I thought you stopped. We trusted you"

"And you still did it behind our backs? This whole time?"

"No, it was just this time"

"Show me the camera"

"No!"

"Give it to me!"

"No!"

------

"We were right! You were taking pics of us this entire time!"

"You don't understand! the beaty I have captured!"

"I can't believe I was friends with a weird creep"

-----

As Pixie's world started to crash and burn, her comfort was destroyed again. She still tried taking pictures of strangers and places, but it didn't feel the same, it wasn't them. They were her favorites, after all.

"What are you do-"

"If you don't want to be my muse, I'll make you my muse"

After failing to convince one of her ex friends to accept her again into the group, Pixie snapped. Killing her ex friend.

She played with her body, posing it differently, decorating it, putting accessories on it. Each picture looked prettier than the last.

"We could've taken these beautiful pictures with you alive, but you refused, look what you made me do... "

She stared at the body for what seemed like an eternity.

"How can you be dead? But still.. so beautiful, it's like you're sleeping peacefully, unbothered by the reality of our world. Type of beauty I never could've captured before..."

-------

*Unfortunately, we couldn't find the killer*

Even when it was obvious that Pixie did it, no one believed it. Someone so cavordly, shy and weak attacking someone and destroying their body to the point of no return seemed so out of character for her.

YOUNG ADULTHOOD

Her first kill being a success, she was hungry for more, why ask someone to pose for you when you can do it yourself. More and more "accidents" occurred. Eventually, Pixie gained an ego out of it. Hearing everyone scared for their life talk about this mysterious killer in the colony, it made her feel special. She started leaving pictures of her previous kills next to the new bodies, leaving messages on the walls and a lot more, playing with everyone's emotions made her feel powerful. Not only would she appear in front of every crime scene, pretending to be a part of the scared and worried crowd. She would also take pictures of the scared crowd all together, secretly leaving those pictures next to the bodies as well, and somehow she still walks freely.

"Nothing will stop me from finding beaty in everyone. Anything can be your weapon, you just have to be creative enough to see it"

-------

Knowing that her patterned kills are going to get her caught someday, she plans on framing someone else for all of her crimes.

EH sorry that's it for now. I legit can't draw anything these days, my dudes I'm struggling. I'm having one more small idea and I'll be gone working on Fate and other big projects that I've started. I realize that I can't balance it all and it's just too much, especially cuz I'm not feeling well and whatnot. My burning willpower is kinda dying out so imma step back for some time...

Also since it's like a new oc, I didn't figure out everything just yet so forgive me for that.

@gollygee-mr-universe yes you may, if you like the character a lot, go play with them haha. As everyone probs knows already. Whatever you guys make with my ocs, whatever you draw and do is acceptable and welcome. I swear I'd enjoy anything. It is in fact for fun.

[theywrites]

Heavily inspired by in the eye of the snowstrom.

***

Before they locked him up in this confinement where he would spend the rest of his life, they'd given Light a choice - he could surrender his memories and walk freely with surveillance on the surface.

***

He wears plain white clothes with no pockets and no way to hide any weapons. The walls are plain, the bed is fastened to the wall and floor. There are no objects that can be used as weapons, no metals, and absolutely no news from the outside world. He is only nineteen. This is how he'll live the rest of his life.

The only accessory he has, which stands out against the plain walls, floor, furniture, clothes, and even the bland food, is the bracelet on his left wrist where his watch used to be.

It's made of dark leather strips, plaited into an armband.

The only thing that connects him with his memories.

Before they locked him up in this confinement where sunlight will never shine and where he would spend the rest of his life, they'd given him a choice - he could surrender his memories and walk freely with surveillance on the surface.

He does not regret picking up the Death Note, nor does he regret killing the criminals. He will never regret being Kira.

***

On his fourth birthday in prison, L visits with a cake, as usual. The moment is fine, until L destroys it. He asks Light again; Does he want to surrender his memories?

Light yells at him and he almost yanks at L's shirt and punches him like when they were chained together. The only reason he does not is because he knows there are guards watching, that will enter if he as soon as he grazes L.

That damn bastard.

***

Light is proud to be Kira, and he will not under any circulumstances give up this.

***

Some nights Light clasps his hand around his left wrist, feels the leather secured around his skin//and is soothed by the security of the leather against his skin// but then remembers knows that this is what's keeping him here// this is why he is still here. But it is also all he's worked for, all he believes in, and the reason he ended up within these walls to begin with. Without this he-

***

When Light is sixty-eight, he wakes from a dream. In his dream, he was in a garden, he was looking at the blue sky with the green grass underneath him and the sun shining down on him. The first thing he sees on waking is the dull, grey prison wall that's accompanied him for almost half a decade.

He decides that this is it.

When L comes by the next time, Light asks L if it's too late now. L does not answer before he leaves.

L comes back a week or so later. "Is Light-kun certain he wants to give up his memories now?"

He can understand the doubt in L - why now, after all these years in this place. If he'd end up chosing this, why not do so earlier?

But L does not understand.

Light will never regret being Kira, as he will not regret living. He's just tired of the dull walls, of the boredom, of having spent half a decade inside these four walls // of having spent more time within these walls than on the outside.

Soon, he'll be too old. He wants to see the sun again. (Just like in his dream.)

***

It only takes a day. L is nothing if not effective. Light confirms that he is going to give up his memories of the Death Note, of a choice he made when he was eighteen, and his five (?) years as Kira that are the reason for an eternity in this cell. The next day L comes into his cell and tells him to surrender the wristband. The black leather is worn, but the colour doesn't fade. Maybe due to magic. Light half-expects L to take the wristband away and get rid of it somewhere Light cannot see, but L burns the leather in front of Light-

And Light looks at L, unbelieving, that he'd spent 50 years in this cell, asking what L is doing with a lighter and why it smells of burnt hair.

***

Outside-

The sunlight is bright. And warm against his skin.

***

Light fights to keep his memories, he refuses to give them up because Kira is a deciding part of his person and deleting this will create huge gaps in his life. Because he is proud of his achievements and his pursuit of justice in his own way. Even though he hates the downfall, and does not want to be imprisoned. He is too proud to admit his faults and give up his identity as Kira, thereby admitting his wrongs. He'll stand up for what he's done, even if he'll be confined for the rest of his life.

// In a way Light is his own worst enemy because he's proud, stubborn and will not allow himself to regret or go back on what he's done.

[akuaya-eng]

(Card story) Rosé SSR - Splendid Cabaret Bunny

- ALLURING ROSÉ AND ALCOHOL -

EPISODE 1

Rosé:

Huh~… he's not coming~…

Vanis:

(walks in) Not coming? Who?

Rosé:

Vani-tan! Just in time ♪

Vanis:

… Can you stop calling me that? Besides, you weren't waiting for me, were you?

Rosé:

Well, no. It's not you who I want to destroy.

Vanis:

Destroy…?

Rosé:

Seriously, that guy. He's got some nerve to completely miss an appointment with me-- I'll definitely destroy him.

Vanis:

I don't know who you're talking about, but I feel sorry for him.

Rosé:

Then help me out ♪

Vanis:

Um… I don't understand the connection of this conversation.

Rosé:

To completely crush someone, you need to prepare properly, right? And for preparation, you need people, right? Just come with me ♡ (walks towards Vanis)

Vanis:

Wait… don't pull me. You're stretching my clothes… (both walk away)

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

Rosé:

...Hmm, is my makeup good enough~? No, should I make it even more dark and bold?

Vanis:

Rosé. I brought the things you asked for, but I wonder if this accessory is okay.

Rosé:

Hmm… no, I'll find them myself. Your taste is too safe… If I want to destroy him, it has to be flashy ♡

Vanis:

You ask for help and then act all picky… What are you getting so worked up about?

Rosé:

There's someone I want to bring down and utterly destroy.

Vanis:

I see. So, that's the person you were supposed to meet earlier.

Rosé:

Yeah. He made a promise, and he broke it just like that. Well, I didn't think it would go smoothly anyway~. After all, he boasts that there's nothing he can't obtain: "power, money, even people's hearts".

Vanis:

Ah… If it's the same person I'm thinking of, why don't you just give up? That person seems like a hassle.

Rosé:

Huh? If you think there's anyone I can't defeat, you're out of your mind. I'll give you a front-row seat to see him fall. So keep your eyes peeled and wait ♪

Vanis:

Alright, alright… I got it.

EPISODE 2

(clapping)

Rosé:

Yeah, yeah, the dancers I hired are great. It's good to have my solo stage, but having a supporting cast is nice too.

Vanis:

(walks in) Rosé. You’ve put together another spectacular event. Isn't this one even more extravagant than the other day?

Rosé:

I invited him by saying, “I’m holding a special event just for you.” This time he’ll definitely show up. I'm talking about someone with a big ego. He won’t miss a lavish show held just for him ♪

Vanis:

Well, after blowing off the last appointment, he’s probably curious to see how you're reacting.

Rosé:

If he shows up with a smug grin, that’ll piss me off. I’ll just smile back at him in return~… Oh! By the way, what about that drink we talked about?

Vanis:

I’ve taken care of it. Here.

Rosé:

Perfect ♪ With this, I’ll crush his ego.

(door opens)

Vanis:

Ah…

Millionaire:

(walks in) Hey, Rosé.

Rosé:

Hi. I’ve been waiting ♪

Millionaire:

Well, I came here just for fun. But I have many people who want to spend time with me, so I can’t just focus on you.

Rosé:

Huh, that’s a shame. But make sure to take a look on my stage. OK ♡

Millionaire:

Haha, if I feel like it. See you. (walks away)

Vanis:

… He’s just like that, but are you sure it’s okay?

Rosé:

No problem at all. We’ve got the special drink. Well, I’m heading to the stage. Make sure to mess with his drink, please ♪ (walks away)

Vanis:

Good grief… (walks away)

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

Rosé:

Come come, everyone! (flashes and applause) The Rosé Belladonna Cabaret Show is about to begin~ ♪ The last show was a hit, so we’re doing it again, but that’s not the only reason for tonight. There’s someone I really want to see it… that’s why ♡

Millionaire:

…Hmm.

Rosé:

(thinking) Alright, he’s watching.

Vanis:

Here’s your drink. Enjoy. (pours)

Millionaire:

Ah, thank you. I have plans later, so I’ll just have a little.

Rosé:

(thinking) Nice, Vanis ♪

Now, let the greatest showtime begin~!

EPISODE 3

Rosé:

Phew, that was fun ♪

(thinking) The dance was perfect. The audience's excitement was at its peak, and it felt amazing ♡

Now, onto him.

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

Rosé

(walks in) Hey there, enjoying yourself?

Millionaire:

Ah, Master Rosé…!

Rosé:

(thinking) Oh? Looks like it's working. I didn’t think it'd go this far, though.

Millionaire:

The stage was magnificent! I… no, I cannot stop crying tears of joy…

Rosé:

I'm glad you're happy ♪ I danced just for you, you know?

Millionaire:

What an honor…! Now I can become your dog or anything you want!

Vanis:

… That's strange.

Rosé:

What?

Vanis:

(thinking) The special drink Rosé asked me to prepare. Whoever drinks it will temporarily lose their grip, rationality, and act according to your desires…

But he only had one drink. There's no way it should be this effective.

Rosé:

Hmm~? What do you mean?

Vanis:

It’s not just the drink. He’s probably also been mesmerized by your show and fallen for you… completely.

Rosé:

So… You mean that my overflowing charm made him this helpless!?

Millionaire:

Master Rosé…?

Rosé:

Oh, sorry for ignoring you. But-- you completely ignored me the other day, didn’t you?

Millionaire:

I have no choice but to do anything to apologize…! Please forgive me! (falls to the ground)

Rosé:

Haha! Rubbing your head on the floor to polish it. If you want my forgiveness that badly… you’ll do anything I say, right?

Millionaire:

Of course! If that will earn your forgiveness…

Rosé:

Then sign this contract, please ♡

Millionaire:

With pleasure! (walks away)

Rosé:

Okay, thank you ♡ Haha. Now, all the souls you possess are mine. Including your own soul…♡ I recently lost one of my sources of souls, so I needed to find a new one. Thanks to my charm, I got it. I’m such a sinful man.

Vanis:

… I definitely don’t want to make you my enemy.

Rosé:

? Did you say something?

Vanis:

No, nothing.

Rosé:

Oh, okay. Now, let's put ourselves together and pay attention to the stage~. The fun is just beginning… Enjoy. Hehehe ♪

[sunbadger]

Dalia Bauer - doomed by fate

"I’m not sure I'd want to start a family, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like. Or, more realistically - just to see the world next year."

The promising candidate who would later be sacrificed to pass her power down to Bertholdt.

A young girl with an absent father and a mother sentenced to Paradis, holding no hope of survival without the role of a warrior. A spreading infection in her mother’s leg and lack of funds led them to the streets, where necessities were scarce. Their only consistent supply of food came from abandoned plates in restaurants, the garbage outside, and rare gifts from passersby. A bad habit, partly led by greed, partly led by desperation, led them to a life of thievery. The young girl became a con artist and a thief, granting herself some coins, luxuries and jewelry from unsuspecting crowds.

It was no surprise when her mother was arrested, followed shortly by herself. They had gotten just a little too greedy, a little too desperate, and stolen more and more accessories of gold and silver. For a few weeks before the arrest, her mother was able to afford new rags and fresh food, and even made them feel pretty with rings on their fingers and necklaces hanging down their collarbones. For a short while, the young girl was treated to a taste of freedom - one which she would never forget.

Dalia never saw her mother be turned into a titan. An older man dressed in uniform had stopped her as she waited in line to be transported to the outer wall. He was rough with her, and both Dalia and her mother were screaming to give her back, but once she had calmed down, he dropped her off at the military training facility. Like a disposable doll, she was thrown to the ground, dirtying the clothes her mother had gotten for her. She was not very talkative, and refused to speak to the general - but the cop must have put in a good word for her, or perhaps provided an ultimatum. Since she was so young, she would be easy to train for the new warrior program, and if it didn’t work out, there was no such thing as too many suicide bombers. Since she lacked both the strength and the motivation to fight back, the choice was simple. The general took her in and told her to show him what she was capable of. 

Looking back, Dalia believes that cop was attempting to save her life - and like the survivor she is, she took the chance. She never had much worth fighting for other than the, perhaps egotistical, desire to stay alive. It rarely crossed her mind that she was training to take the lives of other beings. Her eyes were constantly focused on what was ahead, whether it was the track she had to run or the targets she had to shoot, the ceremony granting her the Colossal, and the fields she had to burn. When she transformed, the grass turned black, falling trees turned to ashes, and the ground warped under her feet. Entire ecosystems being destroyed meant that a roof, a warm dinner and a soft bed were awaiting her return. It was horrifying - but also so beautiful.

Next time I will write more about her life as a warrior and what led to her death, as well as the AU where she survives and goes on to infiltrate the walls. This is a draft so nothing is really final. Her character has some inconsistencies and things that could be improved upon which i'll think about. (but this is mainly just for fun, of course). In the future I'll consider writing a fanfiction featuring her.

thanks for reading if you got this far lmao! feel free to leave some feedback.

[whisker-biscuit]

The Lines We Cross - Chapter 7

Bentley Comes Through

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See you met me at an interesting time And if my past is any sign of your future You should be warned before I let you inside

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The pit stop turned out to be a tiny store in Nebraska an eight-hour car drive away, sandwiched between a tattoo parlor and a private attorney's office on a quiet street in a quiet town. “Wiseturtle Tech” was emblazoned over the front. Sly stared up at the blocky, faded lettering and was thoroughly unimpressed.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just ask your boss for a new weapon,” he said for the hundredth time since they’d started the impromptu detour. “Seems a lot easier than going out of your way to a podunk place like this.”

“Shock pistols aren’t manufactured en-masse,” the cop admitted. “They’re custom weaponry that only higher ranks like inspectors can have. I didn’t want to ask Barkley for a new one right after he gave me so much expensive equipment already, and it would have taken a while for them to ship a new one, anyway.”

“What about a regular gun, then? Doesn’t Interpol have those?”

“They do…” Her lips thinned. “I just don’t like using them.”

“...Right.” He gave the storefront another once-over, then turned to look at her holster where her broken pistol was tucked safely away. “So, what makes you think some random tech guy can salvage a mess like that?”

“You'll see.”

Inspector Fox pushed open the door to let them both inside. A little bell overhead chimed in response, but no one was actually at the desk to greet them. The counters behind the desk were covered in dismantled machinery – phones, laptops, kitchen appliances, and a million other things Sly couldn’t identify. The one intact computer sitting on the desk had a screensaver of a little green turtle head bouncing aimlessly off the edges of the screen.

There was a wall offering various tech and accessories, so the raccoon wandered over that way. “Great customer service. Really selling me on this place.”

“Oh, shush.” She stepped up to the counter and rang the service bell. “Hello? Anyone home?”

A large pink hippo in a gray uniform shirt poked his head out of one of the back doorways. His eyes widened and a big goofy grin grew on his face as he recognized the person who had called for him.

“Hi Miss Fox!”

“Hi, Murray,” she greeted him with a warm smile. “Is Bentley here? I could really use his help.”

The hippo nodded emphatically. “Yeah! I’ll go get him right now for you!”

He disappeared from sight again, and she gave Sly a smug look, who only shrugged and went back to studying the wall of stuff. It was a bizarre mix, really – half of what was on sale looked brand new, state of the art and built for the latest tech trends, while the other half looked like it had been lifted from a RadioShack in the eighties. Even if the single camera he’d noted in one ceiling corner was just for show, nothing here was really worth taking. Not for his needs, anyway.

There was a clatter as Murray bounded back out from his hiding place, followed by a tiny turtle with giant spectacles and a little red bowtie over his shirt that matched his coworker’s. He climbed onto the chair across the desk from where the cop stood and only gave Sly a brief glance.

“Hello, Inspector Fox. It’s been a while,” he said in the most nasally voice the raccoon had ever heard. “Is your computer having issues again?”

“No. I’m here for something else today.” She lifted her ruined shock pistol and placed it carefully onto the counter.

Bentley’s mouth fell open. “What did you do to it?”

“Work-related. It was overloaded with electricity, but I can’t really share any more details than that,” she hurriedly dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Do you think you can fix it?”

“I can…certainly try.” The turtle picked it up by the handle between two fingers, as if afraid it might explode. “You know, every time I think I’ve seen every way someone can destroy their tech, you always manage to surprise me.”

“I will take that as a compliment!” She shot a glare at Sly when he snorted. “So, how long will you need?”

“A few hours at least. And that’s if I already have all the parts to replace anything damaged beyond repair. Otherwise, it could be anywhere between a few days to a few weeks.”

The inspector grimaced and shook her head. “If you can’t fix it within the day, don’t bother. It would be faster to get a new one.”

“Alright.” His gaze flickered over to the raccoon, who stared back impassively. “I’ll, uh, give you a call when I know for sure what the time estimate will be.”

“Thanks, Bentley.”

As they left the store together, Sly met Murray’s curious gaze. The hippo gave him a smile as wide as he had Inspector Fox, and Sly couldn’t help but give an awkward attempt at one back.

“Well, it looks like we have some time to kill,” he said the moment the doors swung closed behind them. “What’s the plan while we wait?”

She chewed her lip. “I need to figure out which member of the Five to go after first. And you still haven’t given me that evidence yet, Ringtail.”

“I will, don’t worry. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t high-tail it out of that apartment and leave me stranded.”

The two of them got back in her car, and the fox gave him a long, searching stare. “You’re really going through with this, huh.”

It wasn’t entirely a question. He’d let his emotions slip a little more than he’d wanted the other night, and she had seen his conviction because of it. Even so, he’d had a day and a half since then to think over his decision to rub shoulders with a cop – one from Interpol, no less – and although he had plenty of misgivings, Sly still believed it was his best option for now.

He might know where most of the Five were holed up these days, but that would only get him so far on his own. She had resources, and a seemingly genuine interest in seeing justice served, and it would be so much easier to let her blaze through their hideouts and move stealthily in the chaos she created than trying to break in by himself – especially once they realized he hadn’t been arrested like the rest of Muggshot’s goons. The last place they would ever expect to find him was at the side of the cop who was out to bust them all.

And, after seeing how she had miraculously won a one-on-one battle against the bulldog, he almost dared to believe that he’d be safe with her even if they did find him.

“Yeah, I am,” he answered, honest for once in his life, before pulling out the precious information she so desperately wanted. “Here. For your peace of mind.”

The cop grabbed them and began reading immediately. Her lips moved without sound as she did so; it was a small, almost endearing detail that made his mouth twitch just a little bit upwards.

“These are emails,” she finally said in hushed excitement. “Emails between some of the Five. Muggshot, Sir Raleigh, and Mz. Ruby. But…why would he print them out?”

Because they always wipe their communications but Muggshot has the memory of a gnat, he didn’t say out loud. “Probably because he doesn’t know how to tell the difference between print’ and ‘delete’. You’ve met the guy.”

Inspector Fox hummed, only half listening. Her nose was buried in papers. Sly had already read them while waiting on the roof of her motel, and he knew what she was going to find. He pulled the car seat back until it was nearly horizontal, flipped his hood up over his eyes, and laid his linked hands behind his head like he was going to take a nap.

“The most recent communications are between Muggshot and Mz. Ruby,” she mumbled to herself, “from the same day that I busted him. And the ones between him and Sir Raleigh are from two weeks ago. That’s interesting.”

“Mhm.”

“They all seem to be talking about the same thing,” the fox continued, in a slow, thoughtful tone. “Some kind of special package they’d been ferrying back and forth. Raleigh to Muggshot, and then Muggshot to Mz. Ruby.”

Sly stared at the tiny threadbare stitching of the inside of his hood.

“But…” She tapped a line on the page. “It looks like the latter two settled on a transfer date that’s still another week away. Whatever they were smuggling between them, it never made it to the alligator before Muggshot was arrested.”

He was so still he was barely breathing. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I wonder what that package was. These emails are so vague, all I can really tell is that it was probably fragile and priceless, and with all the stolen stuff we found in his penthouse, almost anything could fall under those categories.”

“Well, no use getting our tails in a twist over something they’re never going to get their hands on again,” Sly said, a little curter than he meant to.

She shifted next to him, obviously surprised by his blunt brush off, but then went back to reading without saying anything about it. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, the cop straightened in her seat.

“We’ve got locations!” She exclaimed. “The last transfer point was in Wales, and the next scheduled one is supposed to be in Haiti. That must be where Raleigh and Mz. Ruby are hiding out right now. I wonder what kind of awful schemes they’re involved in. Everyone had been speculating that the Five had gone into hiding in some kind of criminal retirement, but these clearly indicate otherwise.”

“I dunno a single thing about any of that, but between Wales and Haiti, I vote we go to Haiti first.”

“Why Haiti?”

The raccoon finally lifted the fabric from his eyes to look sideways at her. “Two reasons. Number one is that Haiti is way closer to the States than Wales is, and if Mz. Ruby hasn’t heard about Muggshot’s arrest by next week, then you have a chance to catch her at the exact time and place she’s planning to make that exchange with him.”

An exact time and place he was going to avoid like the plague if he could help it.

“Number two is that Mz. Ruby has premonition. The longer you leave her out there, the more likely she’ll look into the future, see her own arrest and disappear, or see her partners’ arrests and warn them to disappear. Then you’re screwed either way.”

“That’s true, but –” she paused suddenly, and narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “Wait. How do you know about Mz. Ruby’s powers?”

“Are you kidding? It’s one of the things she’s most famous for besides literally summoning the undead. Just because Interpol has its special top-secret info doesn’t mean some stuff doesn’t reach public knowledge.”

Sly held her gaze without blinking until she backed down with an acknowledging nod. Her wariness was frustrating but understandable, especially because of how she wasn’t wrong to have it.

Just for all the wrong reasons.

“Okay. Haiti, then.” Inspector Fox pulled out a tiny notebook from her jacket’s front pocket and began scribbling down notes as she scanned the printed emails again. “That’s going to be about a long flight, so I need to book plane tickets for the earliest possible flight I can find for two people.”

He must have let something show on his face about that, because she huffed and gave him an impatient look.

“What now?”

“Nothing. I just – I didn’t think we’d be flying.” As soon as it left his mouth, he regretted it. She stared at him like he was an idiot.

“How else are we supposed to get there, Ringtail?” She asked sarcastically. “By car?”

“No. I just…I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. You don’t have to be crappy about it.”

The cop began to open her mouth again, and he just knew she was going to pry into things she had no business knowing. With an irritated sigh, Sly readjusted his seat into something actually vertical again so he could be level with her in more ways than one.

“I’m just not the biggest fan of flying, alright?”

The sharp retort prepared on her tongue vanished in the wake of confusion. “You’re not? How come?”

“Consider it a phobia. It paralyzes me.”

She squinted at him. He met her eyes without hiding anything. The truth was the truth, and he could see her defensiveness easing away as she realized it.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure we can get you something to help. Over the counter anxiety meds, maybe.”

The raccoon let out an audible snort. “Nothing short of Klonopin is going to help me with that. Trust me, I speak from experience.”

Before the inspector could respond to that, her cell phone suddenly went off. She answered it immediately albeit with a sharp glance his way, as if to say their conversation was far from over.

“Hello? Oh! Bentley, thanks for calling back, I – okay. Okay. But you – you can? Great! Thank you so much! Yes, we’ll come back later.”

Sly picked at the seams of his gloves, waiting patiently until the fox ended the call.

“He says most of the damage was in the charge port, and he has the spare parts for it,” she told him the moment she hung up. “But it’s going to take the rest of the day even if he skips the other projects that were in line before mine.”

“All day, huh? Pretty sure we’ll have figured out a route to Haiti way before then. That’s a lot of time to kill.”

To his surprise, she shook her head. “Not for me. I have to check in with my superiors about my plan to go after Mz. Ruby first, and get an update on the evidence they’ve been sorting through from the bust on Muggshot. If there’s any new information about his cohorts, I need to know as soon as possible.”

“Sounds…fun.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” The cop gave him a particular look that he decidedly didn’t like. “But it’s all confidential, and I can’t risk you eavesdropping on my phone calls again.”

“I thought we’d already established that it wasn’t actually eavesdropping if your boss was yelling so loud I could hear him across the room.”

“Regardless,” she continued, irritation seeping into her voice, “you can’t be around me for that. I’m not risking it happening again.”

Sly sat up straighter in his seat, not liking at all where this was going. “What, so you’re just going to kick me out of the car for the next six, seven hours ‘til you’re done? What am I supposed to do – sit on the curb with my chin in my hands all day?”

Inspector Fox began working her jaw; a tic he was starting to notice meant she was deep in thought instead of merely frustrated. Her eyes drifted up and down his hoodie.

“How prepared are you for a long-term trip?”

And that was how Sly found himself standing in front of a general merchandise store, watching his cop companion drive away, with the two-hundred US dollars she’d handed him in his pocket and explicit instructions to buy everything he needed for travel.

It didn’t bother him that she could tell he didn’t have many belongings to his name – the fact that he was still wearing the same clothes nearly two days after they’d first met had probably clued her in – but it did bother him that she seemed to think he didn’t have any money. It made sense, because to her he was just a civilian who’d probably been robbed and then captured by Muggshot’s men, but it still smarted his ego as a thief.

With a huff, the raccoon entered the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and made a beeline for the aisle with portable suitcases. Then he made a beeline for the clothing section.

It had been a long time since he’d been able to pick out things for himself. Clothes were always a necessity provided for him by the Five, and only when his previous stuff was starting to get threadbare. A few new shirts, and pants, and a pair of shoes if they were feeling generous. The hoodie he was wearing was courtesy of being stuck in stormy Wales for nearly a month before he’d come to Mesa, because as much as Raleigh hated spending money on the “orphan waif”, he hated having to deal with a sick orphan waif even more.

Even with his newfound freedom, Sly found himself following the same patterns he’d been forced to follow for over half his life; three shirts, three pairs of pants, and a single new pair of shoes were all he put in his cart. He only realized what he was doing when he compared the amount of clothes to the size of the suitcase he’d chosen. There was still far too much space left even if he added his backpack and what he was wearing.

That realization prickled his fur and made his cheeks burn, and so he doubled back and forced himself to pick another two of each despite the voice in his head screaming that he was being greedy for it.

Next up were toiletries.

The raccoon’s toothbrush was already safely tucked away in a side pocket on his backpack, something he’d always done just in case there was ever a chance for him to make a break for it, but everything else had been left behind when he’d been unexpectedly forced out of his room. He began pulling things off the shelves at random as he saw them – toothpaste, shampoo, a fur brush, nail clippers, a pack of razors, and so on and so forth. At one point he passed a jumbo first aid kit and added that to the growing pile as well, knowing that if he got hurt, he would have to rely on himself instead of the cop. She probably didn’t even know how to properly pack a stab wound; much less reset a broken bone or build a makeshift splint.

After that…Sly wasn’t really sure what came after that.

Inspector Fox had promised to be back to pick him up in a few hours, but he still had quite a lot of time to kill. He’d already gotten all the essentials he needed, and there was really nothing else to get that wasn’t wasting space and money.

For a brief minute he toyed with the idea of swinging by the pharmacy and swiping someone’s anxiety prescription meds if he could find something strong enough to last him the upcoming plane ride he was already dreading, but quickly nixed the thought. That was a particularly scummy thing to do even with his skewed ideals. He’d just have to suck it up.

He ended up wandering store aisles, looking at things that held no interest or use to him. So many frivolous, stupid things that people bought. Why buy a toaster and a toaster oven? Why get more than one bed spread unless you absolutely needed a new one? Why spend money on three different kinds of the same food?

Muggshot and Raleigh both loved to do things like that. Sly had lost count of how many times he’d watched the frog import wine worth thousands of Pounds a bottle, or the bulldog order glitzy chandeliers to hang from the ceiling of every room he spent more than an hour in. As a kid who had lived middle class until the night his world was shattered, it had confused him. As an adult who had spent the last eleven years surviving off what little he could get, it infuriated him.

At least Inspector Fox didn’t seem to be like that. Her accommodations were cramped, and a little dingy, but he would take it over glittering fakeness any day of the week. Well, except for maybe that shiny red convertible. That thing stuck out like a sore thumb and he very much hoped she’d ditch it before getting any further in this case.

Something caught his eye in the electronics section.

It was a digital camera, small enough to fit in his hoodie’s front pocket, advertised for taking quality pictures for scrapbooking needs and family vacations. SD card and charger port sold separately but at a bargain, it claimed, and the raccoon didn’t realize how long he’d been looking at it until he noticed an employee approaching him from the corner of his eye.

“That’s a really nice camera,” the deer said, giving him a smile perfected for customer service. “Are you interested? I can take it out of the case for you.”

Sly looked at them, then at the price tag. Two-hundred dollars with all the added accessories. He had nearly four-thousand from what he’d swiped from Muggshot. This would barely put a dent in that. But it still made him hesitate.

Greedy little thing, hissed the voice in his head, a familiar croak with a British accent. Always asking for more than you deserve.

“Yeah, actually, I am interested,” he said louder than necessary, ignoring the weird look the employee gave him as a result. “I’d love to buy it.”

What was he even going to use a camera for? No idea. But it shut up the stupid voice in his head for the time being and that was all that mattered.

When Inspector Fox pulled up to the sidewalk twenty minutes later in her dumb fancy car, Sly was waiting for her with a mostly-full suitcase, turning the camera over and over in his hands. She helped him load his luggage into the trunk alongside her own and all the strange cop stuff she had – was that a jetpack? – and appeared to be distracted by something that she didn't share.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” She suggested.

“Sounds good to me.”

They ordered takeout and ate in her car instead of inside, at her request. It was quiet for a few minutes as she seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

“How’d your check-in go?” He asked after a while, surprising them both that he was the one to break the silence first.

“Good. It was good.” She hesitated. “They haven’t found anything useful for my case, though. Just stuff to help put Muggshot away for a very long time. That’s as much as I can tell you.”

“’S fine. I’m not really interested in all that cop mumbo-jumbo, anyway.”

“I figured you wouldn’t be.” There was another heavy pause as she studied him.

“Something I can help you with?”

“Sly…” The use of his first name made him tense. “Did you…”

The inspector stopped, took a deep breath, and steepled her fingers together. The look on her face was pinched and intense.

“I think we need to clear the air before this goes any further.”

Sly slowly brought his fork down from his mouth and eyed her cautiously. There were only a few things that would warrant a statement like that, and all of them made him nervous. “Uh, okay. You have something specific in mind?”

“A few questions.”

“Ask away,” he said, leaning back in his seat as nonchalantly as he could manage. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Okay. First question, then – you said you didn’t live in Mesa. Where do you live?” Before he could open his mouth, she gave him a sharp look. “Honest answer, Sly. I want to know.”

The raccoon tapped one finger against his thigh, thinking for a moment. “Honest answer? I don’t have a place.”

Her brows furrowed together in an expression he couldn’t read. “You’re homeless?”

“I mean, I’d personally describe it as ‘between homes’ right now, but…yeah. Essentially.”

The strange look morphed into something that he definitely recognized as pity. He would have challenged it if not for wanting very much to keep his cool as she worked through…whatever it was on her mind.

“But you don’t live in Mesa.”

“Nope. Was just passing through. Really unlucky timing on my part, I guess.”

“Fair enough. Second question – do you have any family you could go back to?”

Sly blinked. “No. I don’t.”

“Any living relatives at all?” She pressed. “People who will worry about where you are or what happens to you?”

“Does it look like I do?” He snapped, tail curling around his ankle. “What’s with the twenty questions all of a sudden, huh? Having second thoughts about this whole thing?”

The cop held up her hands placatingly. “I didn’t mean to dredge up anything! I just wanted to make sure this is really something you want to do.”

“I’ve already told you twice that it was.”

“You did,” she conceded. “You’re right, you did.”

“What’s this really about, Inspector? You were just fine this morning and now it sounds more like you’re trying to come up with an excuse to get me off your back. Did –”

A thought occurred to him.

“…Did you tell your boss about this deal of ours? Did he tell you to ditch me, or persuade me to quit?”

She shifted uncomfortably, clearly called out, and a spike of icy fear shot straight through Sly’s heart.

“What did you say?” He demanded. “What did you say about me?”

“Nothing specific,” she was quick to say, watching him in that very peculiar way again. “I told Bar – my superior that I had found a civilian consultant who could help me get to my next target faster than expected. I didn’t tell him your name, or your species, or anything else. But I had to tell him I was traveling with someone, Sly!”

“Why? Is he your dad? Got a curfew you gotta follow, too?”

“He’s my boss, Ringtail. I have to be transparent in this profession or else no one would trust me. I know you have a weird – thing about the police, but I promise you I didn’t share anything that you didn’t consent to.”

He had most certainly not consented to being put on Interpol’s radar, but he kept that rebuke clamped down under an angry locked jaw. He should have expected this from someone like her; of course she would be as by-the-book as possible. The raccoon folded his arms and pointedly stared out the front windshield.

“What did he have to say about your little escort?”

“To do a background check on you and make sure you knew the danger you were getting into,” she told him. “So here I am, trying to do both before dragging you out of the country on a wild goose chase.”

He wondered if she’d tried to do a formal search on any raccoons named Sly. If she had, he knew without a single doubt that she would not have found anything.

“You want a background check? I’ll give you a background check.”

“That’s not –” she started to say, but he cut her off hard.

“I have no living relatives. My parents died when I was young and I’ve been on my own ever since.” He pulled his forged passport out of his backpack and flashed it just enough so she could see what it was but not the full name on it. “I can travel globally anywhere I want. You can do a search on me but you won’t find anything because I don’t have a criminal record. I don’t have any ties to any family, or friends, or anything in this country, so you don’t have to feel bad about ‘dragging’ me along.”

“Sly –”

“And since you’re wondering how I got those emails – because I know you’re wondering – I got them well before you saved me. I went snooping around in Muggshot’s casino while he was clearing out the locals and stumbled onto them right before those mutts you met came across me. They decided that I needed a full tour of their handiwork of the city since I obviously wasn’t scared enough of them and they were too fucking stupid to actually search my backpack because I gave them all the money I had on me when they demanded it.”

Inspector Fox was staring at him with wide eyes. He kept his chin held high.

“Well?” The raccoon challenged. “What do you have to say to that, Inspector?”

Her body seemed to catch up to her brain, because she suddenly leaned forward and locked her gaze with his, searching for deception. He didn’t even flinch.

“…Okay,” she finally conceded, backing down both physically and mentally. “Okay. Thank you, Sly. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that, but I appreciate the honesty. Honesty is important if we’re going to work together for the foreseeable future.”

It was a foreseeable future he was already starting to regret, but he wasn’t ever going to let her know that.

“Yeah, well…I’m just glad you’re satisfied. It’s not every day I spill my guts like that, especially to –”

“To cops. I know.” She finished for him, and there wasn’t as much annoyance over the barb as he would have expected. “You’re starting to get predictable, Ringtail.”

“Am not,” he grumbled, without quite as much bite in his voice. The confrontation had drained all his energy and left him tired more than anything else. “So did you get a flight planned out, or were you too busy gossiping about me?”

“Yes and no. I was mostly setting up hotel accommodations and making contact with the local Haitian police so we could jump right into work once we get there.” She checked her phone. “We’ve still got another hour to kill before Bentley estimated he’d be done, so there’s plenty of time to look at flights.”

“Great. I can’t think of anything more fun than that.”

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At 5 PM on the dot, with a route established and a flight to catch the next day – which Sly was pointedly not going to think about until he absolutely had to – the two of them reentered Wiseturtle Tech to see Bentley putting the finishing touches on the now-fixed shock pistol. Murray was sitting on a stool nearby to watch him work, idly swinging his legs and making the seat rotate back and forth.

Both employees looked up at the jingle of the doorbell, and both waved. Inspector Fox returned the greeting while Sly just nodded his head.

“I’m almost done, I swear,” the turtle mumbled as he went right back to crossing wires. “I just want to be sure I’m not missing anything.”

“Take your time,” she replied. “I’d rather you triple-check everything than rush a job.”

Her eyes trailed over to the wall of tech, then to Sly, then back. She grabbed his hand very suddenly, startling him.

“Come over here,” the fox said, leading him towards a row of simple flip phones. When he looked between them and her with a raised eyebrow, she sighed as if greatly inconvenienced. “Pick out a burner phone.”

“Why?”

“Since it’s clear we’re doing this together, we’ll need a way to communicate in case we ever get separated, and something tells me you don’t already have one of these.”

He gave her a flat stare, but she carefully avoided looking at him or any aspect of his appearance by gesturing to the electronics instead.

“Go on. It’d make me feel a lot better if I’m going to take you with me.”

Rolling his eyes without any heat behind it, the raccoon picked the cheapest one he could find. The thought of picking a more expensive one since she was paying for it popped up for about half a second, but he squashed it right away. There wasn’t any point in taking advantage of her generosity and potentially making her resent him.

Greedy, hissed Raleigh.

Sly gritted his teeth and practically slammed the phone onto the counter, making Bentley jump and Inspector Fox give him a disapproving look.

“I’ll take this one, please,” he said to the hippo, who had scampered back to his post as an actual employee so he could ring them up for their charges.

“Is this your first ever phone?” Murray asked, sounding strangely excited about the concept.

“Maybe,” he answered warily, watching out of the corner of his eye as Inspector Fox pulled her wallet out while Bentley handed her the fixed shock pistol. “Why?”

“Can I be your first phone number?”

Sly swiveled to look at him, confused. “Uh…why? I’m a stranger to you.”

“Well, sure, but – I mean, the first number in your phone should be someone you can rely on, right? And you can always rely on us to help, no matter the problem!” The hippo started playing with his hands, gaze dropping to the ground. “And – and it’s just…you seem like a really cool guy, too.”

That was…not anything he’d expected to hear at all. Sly blinked, completely caught off guard by the compliment and its sincerity, and didn’t immediately respond.

“...Sure,” he finally said, if only because Murray was starting to wilt like a dying flower as the seconds ticked by without an answer. “I don’t see why not.”

He doubted he’d ever call the guy, or even remember he had his number, but there really wasn’t any harm in letting him plug it in, was there?

The hippo beamed at him, wasting no time in doing so, and then passed the phone along to Inspector Fox, who deftly did the same thing with her own number.

“There.” She handed it to him with a smile. “Now we’re both all set.”

Sly watched her set her fixed weapon back into its holster, and thumbed the new device that was now hiding in his hoodie pocket right next to the camera. “Guess we are.”

“Thanks again, Bentley! And you too, Murray.” The fox waved goodbye to them, and this time the raccoon did the same.

“Bye! Don’t be a stranger!” Murray called after them enthusiastically. His turtle coworker watched them go with a pinched, pensive brow.

The moment they were outside, Inspector Fox pulled her pistol out to weigh it in her hands. She seemed satisfied by whatever she felt, because it went right back where it was supposed to without any further fanfare.

Sly watched her, still feeling the weight of the phone on his person. He’d never had a phone before. He’d never needed one before.

“Okay,” she said, turning to him, and all the levity she’d shown in the tech shop disappeared under determination and anticipation. “Next stop: Haiti.”

“Right.” He could do this. He was ready for this.

“Right after a six-hour flight.”

“.......Right.”

Or maybe not.

---------------------------------   

---------------------------------  

A/N: Transitional chapter is important but still a transition. Hopefully a cameo by our favorite boys makes up for it!

A few notes on this one: 1) I did not mean for Sly to get so hostile near the end there. It was just supposed to be Carmelita questioning him to put her many misgivings to rest, but he apparently decided to take it personally and I wasn't about to tell him otherwise lol.

2) I've always had the headcanon that Sly enjoys photography either because of or separately from doing so much recon. It's such a neat hobby and I feel like it fits his introverted nature. We'll just have to see whether he uses the camera in this verse.

3) It was very fun (and kinda sad) to think up what life might have been like for Bentley and Murray if they had never crossed paths with Sly. While I do think he's the glue that pushed them all together, it's still very likely that the more "mundane" versions of them may have still built lives working with each other. Here specifically, Bentley is the tech guy and Murray helps him with deliveries and heavy lifting. Even so, they've both always felt like something was still missing...

Once again, thank you for reading!

[truly-sincerely]

Dark Star Falilng (9 of 9)

Part of Darling wants to just let him do whatever he will. Let him destroy them. A large part. They’re pinned down and Enver Gortash is forcing a leg between their legs, pressing down on their pelvis with a knee. Darling has never been more ready to get railed, but it feels like a test.

There’s a kinesthetic memory that somehow wasn’t lost when Orin skewered their brain, or maybe Bhaal gave it back to them when they arrived at Wyrm’s Rock. Their story, told in a thousand corpses. Nothing concrete, just a feeling that it is correct. Tearing each other apart and then putting themselves back together so they could do it all over again. Darling had found a serenity with Astarion in being gentle or being the recipient, but seeing Gortash, getting close enough to read his scars, made them feel something altogether feral.

But it has to go both ways. They’re equals. Heads of their churches, the Chosen, fallen from grace, famous and infamous. They have to be equals. He wants Darling to fight back. He wants them to overpower him, or at least for them to try. They can sense his trepidation. They want to give him what he wants so badly.

“I can’t,” Darling says thru their teeth. “Balthazar’s fucking myrkulite chaff vivisected me I don’t know how many times. I’m not strong enough.”

“What can you do?,” Gortash’s disappointment is palpable.

Darling is hesitating because they know exactly what they can do, but they don’t know if it will ruin this. Finally, they decide they would rather hurt than disappoint him. Their voice reverberates off the stone walls, “This is going to be mean.”

Gortash makes a confused noise in his throat, but doesn’t have time to process what’s about to happen. Which is the point.

“Your parents never respected you and now they’re dead.” Sometimes when they use vicious mockery on someone or something, they just have to guess at an insult and hope that the mockery does the rest. In this case, even the surface insult is probably enough to screw with him, but there’s another layer underneath. Within the vibrations he knows Darling met his parents, spoke to his mother. The cruel things his mother said about him.

He recoils in pain and just a touch of fear, releasing one of Darling’s arms to clutch his head. Darling uses their freed hand to dig their claws into the tendons of his other wrist and he collapses on top of them, which is a bit of a backfire, but they’ve evened the odds, at least. They start wriggling out from under his body when he recovers enough to get his good hand around their throat and squeeze.

That squeeze is so much meaner, in the sense that he is both pissed as hell and that he intends to crush their windpipe. They don’t want to destroy his other wrist if they don’t have to. They think they’ll want him to still have manual dexterity when they’re done with him so they refrain from using their claws again.  It occurs to them that they can’t remember which of his hands is dominant even tho they’ve seen him writing.

Without his accessories he’s just got stubby little human nails, filed all the way down, but he still manages to do some damage as he’s thrown bodily away from Darling’s throat. Impressive grip strength. They imagine a black and purple hand print and are excited to look at it later. He hits the ceiling with enough force to break something, but they can’t tell what over the roaring of the spell that sent him up there. The center of the thunderwave was aimed at his abdomen, so it’ll probably be ribs. If vertebrae are the problem they can heal him before permanent damage sets in. 

They scramble to their knees to see if he’s getting back up. He’s on his elbow, clutching his torso. This is ideal. Darling slides over and shoves him onto his back. He makes a sound like a dying cat. They climb on top of him and rasp, “I like this. Are you having fun?”

He’s bleeding profusely and has pained tears in his eyes and it takes him a moment to fight thru the brain fog. Darling picks up his arm and licks the blood from it, humming just enough Weave to make the wounds scab over.

He mumbles something and then tries again when Darling doesn’t react, “Why’d you stop?”

“Renounce Bane,” they reply. “I’m not going to risk killing you as long as you’re his.”

“Threatening not to kill me. That’s a new one,” he laugh-wheezes. He’s not going anywhere like this so Darling sits up, pulling their trousers off.

“I don’t belong to Bhaal anymore,” they say into the empty air.

“I had that impression.”

“Renouncing Bane won’t kill you. You aren’t His son. You aren’t anyone’s son,” they argue as they settle back on top of him. “He saved you, tho, didn’t He? That’s why you’re so loyal?”

“What do you know,” the little tyrant sulks. It’s funny seeing him sulk. Two days ago he was the most powerful person in Baldur’s Gate. Now he doesn’t have to wear that mask anymore. “I wasn’t saved. I escaped.”

“No, I meant… from yourself. From self-destructing. He gave you a purpose. Taught you how to cope.”

“All He wanted in return was the world,” Gortash says and covers his mouth with a hand.

Darling is pulling his shirt open. “If we couldn’t give Him that, no one can.” Gortash looks up in surprise. Darling glances at him, “Stay down. I’ve got plenty more mean things to say.”

“For example?”

“You want me to open all of your old wounds and stick my fingers into them? Who am I kidding, of course you do. I can do it with or without the headaches.”

“You’ve become very strange.”

“I think I was always strange. I must have been better at keeping it to myself.”

“You should never keep your strangeness to yourself, darling. It’s one of your best qualities,” Astarion cuts in, appearing in the doorway. Darling, half naked, gives him a little wave. He adds, “one of the spawn said they heard an explosion.”

“Thunderwave.”

He spots the bruising on Darling’s throat and frowns. At least the fresh blood he smells isn’t theirs. “You’d tell me if you weren’t all right?”

“I have domesticated the Archduke,” they declare triumphantly. Gortash folds his arms behind his head and keeps his opinions to himself.

“So you have.”

First - Previous

I'm calling it done.

[gust-jar-simulator]

I keep dissociating and forgetting the names of my Tool Gods Links, so that obviously means I need to do a lot of silly OC question things.

So.

What are the TG Links doing at a fancy castle ball?

Bloodfeather- There aren't enough people in his Hyrule for a ball. If there are he doesn't want to be there. He's sticking close to any windows and staring at the sky with increasing desperation as the event goes on.

Hope- Honestly I think he's really clumsy. Tiny child tries to attend a ball, gets tripped over and knocks himself out on a nearby potted plant.

Smithy- He can put up with the fanfare for a bit but he'll either end up trapping a bunch of nobles in his Infodump Event Horizon or critiquing the quality of the nearest metalwork. A safe place to put him is near the guards, he'll wear them down into talking shop and maybe small town smalltalk.

Four- Get him out of there. He's too anxious to last long. He dances a lot (and very well) but he's nobody's favorite dance partner, because he dances to ward off The Anxiety. A ball feels too much like a dungeon crawl with no clear win condition. When it's bad he starts reflexively pickpocketing.

Lost- He's great at balls. He doesn't talk, which occasionally gets him in trouble, but he's very charming and nobody can tell he's bored out of his gourd. Politics are So Stupid and he hopes Zelda socially destroys someone. Or asks him to. Please. He wants to be in the garden with the fairies.

Found- He's also great at balls. He's got slightly more patience and a willingness to pay attention to the conversation around him. He dances very well, but the only thing he really enjoys about balls is traumatizing a random noble in a way they can't prove or tag-team snarking quietly on the sidelines. Also he enjoys the chance to be handsome.

Hibiscus- A ball is an escape room and the way to win is not enter in the first place. She'd rather die than attend. She'd rather split into the doppels and start destroying property. You'd have to blackmail her. Or worse, she might attend if someone she cares about says it's important to them. Then she'll be late because she's trying to dress up and nothing is good enough. Wallflower time, possibly lurking by the drinks like a prey animal.

Sage- He's got no idea what he's doing but he's polite enough to make it work. He tries to wear his armor and just buff the dragon scales a bit. It technically works. He's horrible at conversation because the nobles are using doublespeak and he's unintentionally threatening everyone while talking about a day in the life. Nobody knows if he's stupid or ridiculously bold. In truth, he's just friendly. And absolutely cannot dance. (Fairy dances aren't safe or appropriate for the setting)

Wyr- Help him. He can do street festivals and harvest dances and even howl at the moon. Balls? Gods. Zelda just asks him to stand there and look pretty and he's fine with that. Two minutes into noble jockeying he starts blushing violently and stuttering and yearning for a straightforward spar. Balls also tend to have bigots, and they're incapable of taking it outside like normal people. He wishes the concept of balls was a bitable problem.

Light- Spends the entire time repressing his instinct to prank. He's got terrible impulse control, so he may or may not succeed. Balls are both overstimulating and understimulating and make him feel vaguely like he's under attack, so he's low level anxious. The jokes about setting something on fire to liven things up are only half jokes. A disaster at balls.

Wars- He does exactly what he's been programmed to do, whether he knows it or not.

Damaz- It really, really wants to be one of the guards. Furniture. An accessory. It's a weapon and it's good at being a weapon. It likes Gerudo festivals, especially the sword dances, but fancy Hyrulean royal balls? Please just put it on security detail. Watching it attempt to emote in a neurotypical way is genuinely painful sometimes. Extremely likely to hide with Hibiscus near the punch bowl, or Bloodfeather near a window.

Wake- An absolute WINNER at balls. He's charismatic, socially fluent, takes no shit and no prisoners but manages to spin any problems into a good joke. He's got stories for days, and the rakish mystique of a pirate. Girls and guys alike are all aflutter.

[pinkfey]

nate + norma + “i’m the cunt you married”

[pocketramblr]

You know what I like in X2 (and all of the original Xmen trilogy actually)? I like how they kept Magneto somewhat sympathetic and complex, but never let you forget that this guy is ultimately a villain who wants mutant supremacy, and is willing to murder all humans to do it. He was a sympathetic villain, but always a villain. I like that.

You've unlocked a ramble!

Ok so the thing about watching X2 and then XMA back to back is that both movies have "Capture Charles in order to use him to destroy humanity and leave only mutants" as a plot point, and both are handled soooo differently and really show the difference between Classic Magneto and Post MCU Magneto.

So in X2, Magneto has Mystique manipulate another mutant (Jason Stryker) who is already very much a victim of a father who had him lobotomized to use him as a weapon after he lashed out at his abusive parents and killed his mother. Mystique has Jason use his power to force Charles to target all humans on the planet with a mental blast that will kill them.

XMA, Apocolypse is the mastermind who kidnaps Charles and forces him to launch all nukes into the sky, disarming every country on earth before Apocolypse takes his body and plans to destroy the rest after. Magneto is one of his horsemen.

So, already, X2 Magneto is "worse" because he's actually doing this, not just working for someone who is. He's the one who didn't warn Charles right away that Stryker was going to kidnap him, and he's the one who didn't free Charles and Jason when he had the chance. Except... Literally five minutes before that, Stryker had used Jason and Charles to target every mutant on earth. They were very much seconds away from a total mutant genocide. Millions and millions dead, like that. The second time that Magneto, as the only one with a helmet to protect him from the psychic blast, would survive a genocide of his people. But this time, he'd be the only one left on the planet. In an attack that came from one person without government authorization. The only way Magneto can be absolutely sure that this never happens again is if he makes sure there aren't any humans left to do it.

Is if he kills billions.

And he does it, or tries to, but before he does he puts his hand on Charles and it's so obvious without him even speaking that he feels bad for doing this to his old friend. He doesn't want Charles to hurt! But his goals are a higher priority than Charles' mental well-being, and he knows he won't have any right to apologize once he's done because he won't regret the action, just the side effects. So he puts his hand on him, silently displaying so much emotion, and then says goodbye and leaves.

Contrast X2 Magneto taking responsibility for what he did and committing to it while still being so very human to XMA Magneto. XMA Magneto isn't even the leader here, he's a sidekick Apocolypse recruited- after his coworkers reported on him for using his power to save one of their lives, getting his wife (yeah he... Has one now) and daughter (no not Anya, Wanda or Lorna, a new one) killed. And here, like in X2, this is obviously him reliving something that has happened before and wasn't supposed to happen again. But he doesn't get to kill the coworkers who betrayed him and his family. Apocolypse shows up and does that himself, after Magento's one request was to not stop him from killing them himself. Magneto does not get to do that action. He does not get the responsibility of those deaths. He does not have the responsibility of actively using Charles, that was Apocolypse. He still shouldn't have done it, of course, it was still wrong- but it's very different than the intention Original Magneto had. And while this Magneto is somewhat sympathetic, the dead family and all... He's not someone who was just facing eminent genocide. There have been ten years of peace, allegedly. Mystique mentions that it's not really peace and still needs improvement and she's right, but as a whole... There's very obviously no need for Mutants to do genocide in order to preserve themselves. Apocolypse is very obviously just doing what he wants for his own personal power. Magneto just ends up looking half like John Wick and half like a huge sucker for doing all of this.

Let's compare two other little thing in both movies- so in X2, there's this moment where Mystique and Magneto are snarking to each other about Rogue's hair and "loving what she did with it." What did she do with it? Nothing, she has a white streak because Magneto tried to use her in the last movie for his "greater good of mutants" and almost killed her.

Meanwhile, XMA Magneto almost killed Mystique last movie for his greater good plan, and in this movie he just... Eventually gets convinced that she's fighting for what she has left and maybe some of humanity is worth saving too. I don't think there's even any mention of what he did in the last film, or of there was it was so little I didn't realize and remember it.

X2 Magneto takes Pyro's lighter to coax him out, then assures him that his power isn't lame, that he's "a God among insects."

Because in the original trilogy, Magneto is the one who manipulates! He's the bastard! He's the bitter old man who has been hurt so bad and is so desperate to keep it from happening again that he'll bark and bite and do worse to stop it.

Meanwhile, Apocolypse gets to be the one to call mutants gods and goddesses in the new version, and Magneto is just an accessory. Still culpable, but not The Bastard, not the one allowed full responsibility, or full sympathy.

Anyway that's why the old Magneto is "worse" as far as being a villain goes, but is way more sympathetic and interesting than the new "softer" one.

[inkmemes]

futurama  (  1999  -  2013  )  sentence  starters  ↪  taken  from  the  animated  science  fiction  show.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“let's get the hell out of here already! screw history!”

“when you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all.”

“you have to use a light touch, like a safecracker or a pickpocket.”

 "stop! the spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

"she's stuck in an infinite loop and he's an idiot. that's love for you."

"all i know is my gut says maybe."

“i've never seen a super nova blow up. but if it's anything like my old chevy nova, it'll light up the night sky!”

"every christmas my mom would get a fresh goose, for goose-burgers, and my dad would whip up special eggnog out of bourbon and ice cubes."

"what do i look like, a guy who's not lazy?"

“is heaven missing an angel, cuz you've got nice cans!”

“help! a guinea pig tricked me!"

"[name], if i said you said you had a beautiful body, would you take your pants off and dance around a little."

"drugs are for weirdos and hypnosis is for weirdos with big eyebrows." 

"[name], it would never work between us. you're a man, and i'm a woman. we're just too different."

“screw you, ill have my own contest. with black jack ... and hookers. forget the contest.”

“ah, she's built like a steakhouse but she handles like a bistro.”

"spare me your space age techno babble, [name].”

"it's sort of a two person pyramid scheme."

"i don't want to live on this planet anymore."

"you were doing well, until everyone died."

“if we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. checkmate.”

“i am the man with no name. [muse name], at your service.”

“in the game of chess, you can never let your adversary see your pieces.”

"this is the worst kind of discrimination, the kind against me."

"you watched it... you can't unwatch it."

“valentine’s day is coming? aw crap! i forgot to get a girlfriend again!”

 "hold on to your dookie, it’s about to get spooky!"

"i'm tired of this room and everyone in it."

"i'm so embarrassed. i wish everyone else was dead."

"you can't just have your characters announce how they feel! that makes me feel angry!"

"i don't have emotions, and sometimes that makes me very sad."

"if, for any reason you're not satisfied, i hate you."

"that young man fills me with hope. plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing." 

"i've dreamed about you a lot since you disappeared. what did you want to tell me?" 

"what do you think the meaning of life was anyway?"

“you're a pimple on society's ass and you'll never amount to anything!”

“life and death are a seamless continuum.”

“if anyone wants me, i'll be in the angry dome.”

“and the worst part is, i had to have the breakup sex by myself!”

“they said i was dumb, but i proved them.”

“what's the point of living if i can't say ass?”

“i'll be stuffing coal so far down your stocking you'll be coughing up diamonds!”

“we're all pawns in his diabolical game of checkers.”

"wait, i'm having one of those things, a headache, with pictures!"

“sorry, i didn't realize i was already here.”

"guess what you're an accessory to!"

"why does ross, the largest friend, not simply eat the other friends?"

“there's no scientific consensus that life is important.”

"we cooked our shoes in the dryer and ate them! now we're bored!"

“i'm just as important as him. it's just that, the kind of importance i have ... it doesn't matter if i don't do it.”

“oh what a foolish squid i’ve been.”

“my instinct is to hide in this barrel, like the wily fish.”

"that was bad, and you should feel bad!"

"technically correct - the best kind of correct!"

"and here is where i keep my assorted lengths of wire!"

"oh wait, you are serious! let me laugh even harder!"

"i gotta practice my stabbing!"

"that's the saltiest thing i've ever tasted! and i once ate a big, heaping bowl of salt!"

“i apologize for nothing!”

 "die young and leave a beautiful corpse! that's what i always say."

"here's to another lousy millennium."

“but i am already in my pajamas.”

“windmills do not work that way. goodnight.”

"you win again gravity."

"when push comes to shove, you got to do what you love, even if it's not a good idea.”

“but existing's basically all i do!”

“when will the killing end?"

"i'll be whatever i want to do."

"the use of words expressing something other than their literal intention. now that. is. irony."

"could you ask a little more sexfully?"

"hooray! i'm useful!"

"awesome. awesome to the max."

"some breaking occurred, the dolly was involved, that's about all we know."

“you want me to do two things?”

i love stealin', i love takin' things!

“i believe that qualifies as ill. at least from a technical standpoint.”

"that was the old me. he's dead now."

"jail ain't so bad; you can make sangria in the toilet. ‘course, it's shank or be shanked."

"one word. thundercougarfalconbird."

"of all my friends, you're the first."

“girls like swarms of lizards, right?”

“i lost it. in a volcano.”

"i'm gonna get you so many lizards!"

"who needs courage when you have a gun?"

“let's go! i've got jelly in my underpants!”

"interesting if true."

“i did do the nasty in the pasty!”

"something tells me i could easily beat those trained professionals."

"the two of you are good friends? but i thought we would be good friends!"

"it's like a party in my mouth, except everyone's throwing up."

“i'm shocked. shocked! well, not that shocked.”

“it's me! no one else look in this mirror!"

“you ever think you only like girls cause you're supposed to?”

"we don't gotta put up with this! we got poli sci degrees."

“sorry, i suffer from a very sexy learning disorder.”

“did somebody say something about a free hot meal?”

“you gotta do what you gotta do.”

"too many bones? not enough cash?"

“hey sexy mama, wanna kill all humans?”

"i don't know how you did that."

"the butter in my pocket is melting!"

"well ... first i got up and had a piece of toast ..."

“i can't wait til i'm old enough to feel ways about stuff.”

“interesting! no ... wait ... the other thing. tedious.”

"i knew you come crawling back, like a bird on its belly!"

“we both know you won't make it halfway before the craving sets in! then you'll come crawling back for another taste of sweet sweet candy. bam!"

“indeed so, most indeededly.”

"and by metaphorically, i mean get your coat."

“[vehicle]'s ready except for this cup holder, and i should have that done in 12 hours."

"stop. stop! i will destroy you." [ bonus if the receiver is doing something mundane to sender ]

“just make a simple cake. and this time, if someone's going to jump out of it, make sure to put them in after you cook it.”

“lies, lies and slander!”

“you raised my hopes and dashed them quite expertly, sir!”

“but going through a divorce together, you can't pretend that didn't bring us closer together.”

“when you say the human body is the most efficient thing to use as a battery, wouldn't anything make a better battery? like a potato? or a battery?”

“i'll have you know that i bejazzle my own underpants!”

“i'm sorry you had to see that, [name], usually i let my sadness fester quietly inside as a mental illness.”

“i'm not drunk, i'm mentally ill! but i agree with what, what you said.”

“this is a cool way to die!”

[ravennm84]

Payback

Hey everyone! I’ve been writing this new story for the past couple of days, and am planning to take a break for a while after this. My husband and I are expecting our first child next week and will be focusing on her. For that reason, I decided to give the class some sugar, as we all need some goodness in the world. I’ll be back when things settle down, but until then, Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

It was just an average conversation. Alya was sitting at her desk before class with Lila since Marinette was late again. It was very pleasant until the italian girl said something… wrong.

“After I saved Jagged’s kitten from being run over by the plane and he wrote that song about me, we kept in touch.” Lila tittered away, without a care. “He ended up mentioning how he wanted a pair of special glasses for his tour, so I made him those Eiffel Tower glasses that he loves so much. Next thing I know, he’s bragging about me to all his friends and they’re all asking me to make things for them too. I ended up making a website and going by the alias MDC. Isn’t that amazing?”

Alya hadn’t had a chance to answer as Marinette came rushing into the room a second before the bell rang and Mme. Bustier began her lesson. Although whatever the teacher was saying was practically ignored by the majority of the class that had heard Lila’s claim. 

Because they knew.

They had been there when Marinette had made those glasses for Jagged Stone for the work experience day at Chloe’s family hotel. They knew that Marinette went by the acronym MDC for the initials of her name. Max, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, and Alya had all helped Marinette set up her website and model her designs a couple months ago, while Lila had been traveling… 

She’s a LIAR!! They all thought at once.

During the next break, Alya quickly set up a group chat with everyone but Lila and Marinette.

FoxyJournalist: You all heard that, right? She’s lying about being MDC, but that’s Marinette!

DJTurtle: So not cool, doesn’t she know that we were there? Is this some kind of joke?

MightIllustrator: Don’t think so, she’s still bragging about it back here.

GothicBeauty: @DJTurtle Agreed, not cool.

Rocker’n’Pink: I can’t believe it! I just emailed Prince Ali to see if he knows her, because if Lila’s lying about this…

BigTeddy: …

SmolTeddy: …

TrueBrain: …

Da’Strongest: … Crap

Sk8Grl: … I second that Crap

FoxyJournalist: Emergency meeting at my place tonight! We need to figure all this out!

DJTurtle: Agreed.

TruQueen: We’ll be there too. I don’t like Dupain-Cheng, but I HATE Rossi.

MissRed: I’ll bring snacks.

By the time class started again, everyone had agreed to meet up after school. The hard part, as it turned out, was shaking the liar, who practically latched onto their group and wouldn’t let them be. It was Mylene you finally came up with an idea, mentioning that they were going to the homeless shelter to help feed people and clean the facility. Lila suddenly remembered that she already had plans and couldn’t come help them, before turning to walk home.

Once she was out of earshot, Alix turned to the other girl with a smirk. “Good going, how’d you know that’d work?”

Mylene shrugged. “I was thinking earlier about all the times she talked about charity work but always made excuses to not come with us when we were doing it. I figured she’d do it this time too, and I was right.”

An hour later the entire class; sans Marinette, Lila, and Adrien, who was at a photoshoot, were gathered in the Cesaire apartment. Everyone had their phones or tablets out, looking up everything that Lila had told them since coming to school. And what they found was anything but comforting.

Connection to Jagged Stone due to saving a kitten: lies, according to articles about his one and only pet for the past 17 years, Fang the crocodile.

Connection to Prince Ali via Go-Green charities: lies, according to Prince Ali himself when he responded to Rose’s email, plus he didn’t do green charities, instead focusing on children’s charities.

Secretly dating Adrien: lies, confirmed when Adrien called Nino back during a break and let it slip that Lila was only his friend and that she made him uncomfortable at times because of how clingy she was.

Every single thing they looked up about Lila turned out to be a lie. And although they couldn’t prove it themselves, that likely meant that all of the diseases and injuries that she’d claimed to have were probably fake too. Meaning that they had been buying her lunch and giving her money for charities, and the money was probably going straight into the liar’s pocket.

“By my calculations, when including all the lunches and food we bought for her, money we donated for charities she wasn’t involved in, and tickets for events she attended with us; Lila Rossi has scammed close to €1,000 from our class. All of which we are not likely to get back from her.” Max groused as he typed away on his tablet.

Alix scoffed. “At least all we lost was some money and a bit of our dignity. I’m pretty sure Marinette went through a lot more than us. Heck, that liar tried to convince me last week that Marinette ruined her homework and said ‘if only she understood what it was like for someone to do that to her’ like she was trying to get me to destroy Marinette’s homework as revenge. I didn’t do it, but I let her copy my homework so she wouldn’t lose any points.”

Juleka’s pale complexion went stark white. “She kept telling me how Marinette was only friends with me so she could get close to Luka and make Adrien jealous, and that I was really trusting to let someone like that near my family.”

“When my headphones broke, she told me that she’d seen Marinette messing with them earlier,” Nino told them, his voice laced with guilt as he remembered giving his oldest friend the cold shoulder for days after that.

Alya’s head dropped into her hands as she struggled to hold back tears. “That liar almost had me convinced that Mari was nothing but a jealous bitch who was out to get rid of her since they both had a crush on Adrien. I can’t believe how close I came to buying that bull.”

“And then there’s the expulsion,” Rose added, her voice quivering. “She was accused of stealing, assault, and cheating on that mock exam. Even though Marinette was reinstated, that kind of stuff doesn’t just disappear from someone’s record. What if that keeps her from being accepted into lycee?”

Everyone went pale at that. Although most turned red in the face a moment later from rage for their friend.

“We can’t let her get away with this!” Kim growled as he began pacing the room.

“But is there anything we can really do?” Mylene asked with tears in her eyes.

When the blonde heiress chuckled, sitting off to the side of the room, everyone turned to glare at her, but she wasn’t phased by their looks. “And this is exactly why I decided to come here. None of you have any idea how to deal with someone like Rossi. I, however, have dealt with those types of people multiple times.” The glares ceased, realizing that Chloe was probably right. 

“One of the best ways to get back at her, would be to use her own lies against her. Do it in a way that the only way out of it is to admit that she’s a liar. And while we do that, we completely tear down the empire that fake HBIC is trying to build, maybe get her expelled like she tried to do to Dupain-Cheng.”

The class stared at her in surprise, not expecting the former hero to actually be useful in this situation. But what she said…

Alya shook her head in surprise. “I never thought I’d say this, but it sounds like you’re the best option. Please, tell us your plan.”

The smirk Chloe gave them, almost made them feel sorry for what was about to happen to the liar.

~oOo~

The following morning when Lila came to class, she saw everyone fawning over something on their phones or tablets. Curious, she stepped next to Alya and looked over her shoulder to find that she was looking at the MDC website. 

She smirked for a second before plastering an appreciative, yet shy grin on her face. “I see you found my website, what do you think of my designs?” 

“Gurl, they are gorgeous! I can’t believe you made such intricate clothes and accessories!” Alya gushed as she continued looking through the pictures until she stopped on a design that she had modeled for Marinette, although, like all the other photos, her face wasn’t shown. “And this one here! It’s like a total dedication to Rena Rouge. Make no mistake, Ladybug will always be my favorite, but Rena’s power is really awesome too.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Lila smiled, she was about to go into describing how she was inspired by the design when Alya asked her something surprising.

“Do you think I can have it? Pretty please?”

Lila came up short, not having expected this. “Well, you can just order it from my website-” she began saying, only to stop when Alya’s expression dropped.

“I don’t understand. You always say that if we need anything to just ask you, and you have this dress listed as in stock on your website, it would be nothing for you to just give it to me, right?”

“I-um-”

“And you even told Marinette the other day that if she were a real friend, she wouldn’t mind giving us free pastries whenever we ask, right?”

“R-right! I’m just surprised that you would be so interested in one of my designs. I’ll bring it in tomorrow!”

“Thanks gurl, you're the best.” Alya gushed before giving Lila a hug that actually kind of hurt. 

Hurrying back to her seat, Lila resisted the urge to curse as she got onto the MDC website to order and overnight the dress to her apartment. Luckily, the mail normally arrived before she left for school. And doing this would help her convince everyone she was the designer MDC.

~oOo~

Lila’s newest lie about being MDC wasn’t going as planned. Sure, she got a lot of praise and people wearing her designs, but it was costing her. Every time she brought in an item that she’d had to buy and overnight to her apartment to give to one of her classmates, another would practically demand another item that was listed as available on the MDC website. A hat for Alix, a hoodie for Kim, a shirt for Max, a dress for Rose, it went on and on. And when she tried to say that she couldn’t, they would say how Marinette would never do such a thing and then start to question what she told them. This left her no choice but to buy everything they wanted herself and give to them. 

Sure, it made her lie all the more believable since she was able to deliver the items they asked for, but it was beginning to clear out her savings. At the rate she was going, she was probably MDC’s best customer.

Then came the day when the MDC website began offering custom orders. Alya asked Marinette for a couple sheets of paper from her sketchbook and a pencil before handing it to Lila. “Gurl, I’ve been wanting you to do something custom for me for weeks, but I wasn’t going to ask since you didn’t have it listed on your website and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. But now, I can tell you exactly what I want and I can even record your process for my blog! Isn’t that awesome?”

Lila gripped the pencil until it nearly snapped. She could barely draw stick figures and she was pretty sure Maribrat knew that, not missing the smirk that the goody-two-shoes was sending her direction. “I would but, oww! My arthritis has been acting up all day and I can barely hold a pencil.” She whimpered pathetically as gingerly gripped her left wrist.

“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” Max spoke up smiling kindly at her. “After all, it’s your left wrist that has arthritis and you’re right handed.”

Shut up, you stupid nerd! She thought, struggling to keep the scowl from her face. “You’re right, but I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to draw something out before class starts.”

“But, Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale have commented on your website how you are really good at doing fast concept drawing for your designs. So, it shouldn’t take you too long to come up with something to start with.” Rose commented, her high voice grating on the liar’s nerves.

She was trying to think of another excuse when Chloe began laughing. “You can all stop the act, I think we’ve played it out long enough.”

To Lila’s surprise, the majority of the class nodded before their eager, friendly faces turned to scowls and angry glares as they looked in her direction. Unsure of what else to do, she started faking tears as she looked around the room. “Why are all of you looking at me like that? I haven’t done anything wrong. Did Marinette say something? You know-”

“Cut the crap, Lila! We did our research weeks ago and figured out you’re nothing but a lying bag of nothing.” Chloe cut her off as she stood from her desk and smiled cruelly at the girl. “You really messed up when you started claiming you were the MDC, the rising star of fashion. Everyone in class knows that’s Marinette.”

Unable to help herself, Lila’s head whipped around in shock to glare at the french-asian girl, sitting shocked, but a little smug at her desk. “Is that what Marinette said? She’s lying!”

Alya scoffed this time. “You know, there may have been a point when we might have believed you, but not this time. We were all there when Mari gave those glasses to Jagged Stone and then had her design his album cover. Max and I helped her set up the MDC website. And Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, Max, and I were the ones that modeled the designs posted on her website.”

Lila glared at her. She knew when the jig was up, and there was no point in wasting her energy on her worthless classmates anymore. Still, she couldn’t help but be angry at them. “Well, you all better have the money to pay me back for all the stuff I bought you! Or else I’ll get all of you in trouble with Mme. Bustier and M. Damocles. If you can’t tell, from the time I got Maribrat expelled, I’ve got them both wrapped around my finger.”

“Actually, you can consider all this repaying us.” Max grinned that annoying, calculating grin at her. “Everything you bought was equal to or of similar value to all the lunches we bought you, tickets for events that we covered, or money we donated to your supposed charities, which I’m 96.8% sure was actually your own bank account.”

She growled at that, about to let out a tirade at all of them when Chloe laughed again, gaining her attention again. “Well, all that was to pay back the class, but you’re still not even with Dupain-Cheng or me. I’m sick of seeing your ugly face and hair-don’t in here every day and decided to do something about it. So, I had Daddy get a hold of the Italian Embassy for a meeting the other day. Imagine how surprised and angry they were when the ambassador’s assistant started talking about how incopitant Ladybug and Chat Noir are, since they couldn’t defeat the akuma that had forced her daughter’s school to close for months.”

Lila’s tan skin paled quickly as her head whipped around the room, looking for an escape, but Ivan and Kim were guarding the door. 

“The woman was even more surprised after mentioning which school it was and Daddy told her how it was my school. Then I mentioned a girl that had been out of school for the time the assistant had mentioned, and that she claimed to be in the kingdom of Achu via Embassy funds. The Ambassador wasn’t too happy about what he was hearing and cut the meeting short. Although I did hear her mention that she was planning to speak with the principal and her daughter’s teacher. Speaking of, I wonder why Mme. Bustier is so late for class?

Seconds later, the door Ivan and Kim had been guarding burst open, revealing a very angry Damocles, Mme. Bustier, and a woman that had a strong resemblance to Lila. Without a single word, the woman stomped forward, grabbed Lila by the arm, and began dragging her out of the room. Lila tried to pull free as she pleaded for her mother to listen, but the woman didn’t say a single word as the door closed behind them, leaving a very upset Mme. Bustier standing at the front of the room.

The news quickly spread around school before lunch how Lila had done, and was likely to be expelled for truancy, bullying, lying to the staff, and trying to get Marinette expelled. If that hadn’t been bad enough, an akuma had come fluttering into the courtyard just as the two Rossi’s had been leaving. Lila had pushed her mother away in an effort to catch the akuma, only for a yo-yo to smack her hand to catch it, snapping two of the liar’s fingers in the process. 

Seeing that, M. Damocles had no choice but to call the police while Ladybug and Chat Noir stood guard over Lila, with Alya recording everything from the moment she’d seen the akuma entering the courtyard. Lila screamed and raged as the police handcuffed her and took her away. Ladybug recommended using a facility outside of Paris, as they had witnessed her willingly going after an akuma.

The class never saw Lila again, although they did hear that she had been deported back to Italy and was dropped in a high security prison’s deepest, darkest hole to be forgotten by the world after being convicted for aiding a terrorist. Granted, none of them had expected that when they had set out to get even with Lila, but after seeing her willingly go after an akuma for revenge, they were glad she was gone.

The class had also profusely apologized to Marinette for not believing her, as well as keeping her in the dark about their plan to expose Lila. Marinette accepted their apology, but admitted that she had been starting to figure it out after Lila kept ordering from her website and her classmates ended up with the ordered items. Then, when she had mentioned her theory to Adrien, he’d shown her the group chat and admitted that the class had planned a way to confront and expose Lila. So, she decided to trust her friends and let their plan play out, using the money Lila had spent to buy more supplies and make matching ‘thank you’ gifts for her friends.

And that’s it! I hope you all enjoyed this bit of class sugar. With all the salt out there, I really needed something sweet and this seemed like a good way to do it!

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @ miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[bokettochild]

If you’re still taking requests maybe Legend showing off his outfits from Triforce Heroes (if you consider that one of his games) or just the fierce deity outfit if that’s to much

Good grief! This one really took it away! I liked the prompt so much, and had so many ideas for it, that I think this might have to be a multi-parter (wasn't expecting that).

I touched on three outfits in this one, but I have six more I might do as well. For reference, I included the Kolkiri Clothes, Linebeck's Uniform and the Cozy Parka.

I also realized while writing this that this is the first time I've written from Wind's perspective, which is positively criminal!

I am still taking requests by the way! If you want to see something, shoot it at me!

(Fic below the cut)

It started so normal, Wind never thought it would get so insane.

They were in the Old Man’s Hyrule, too far from the ranch to make it by nightfall but close enough to still be in a relatively safe location. Time had called for them to set up camp and as they were close to a stream, Twilight had called for the additional order of baths.

Watching Twilight drag his protégé into the water was almost worth having to have his head scrubbed by Sky.

Most of them had taken the chance to cool off and mess around once they were clean, and while Warriors attempted to duck Time under the water (a mistake, they soon realized, when the man easily overpowered the captain, who ended up getting dunked instead) and Wild sat in a tree watching their backs (hanging up to dry, Twilight had joked), Wind found that the rest of them were content to swim idly in the water, with only the occasional splash from one or another of them. Usually, there would be more noise, but Twilight was teaching Hyrule to doggie paddle, and they needed calmer waters so as to not scare the Traveler.

He cast his eyes over their group. A red-faced Warriors was coughing and spluttering out insults at a smug looking Time (boy he needed his picto-box), Twilight was gently coaxing Hyrule to the other bank in a manner highly resemblant of a parent urging a baby to walk, Wild was keeping watch, and Sky was relaxing in the shallows.

Where were Four and Legend?

A glance upwards and a signed conversation with Wild later and Wind was making his way upstream a way, around a bend that blocked off most of the noise but that Wild could still see over if needed, to where Four and Legend sat together one the bank.

Or rather, Legend sat, Four was floating in the shallows with a curious expression as he watched the vet- cleaning clothes?

“We’re out here having a good time and you’re doing the laundry? Boring much.” He drawled, drawing the attention of the two heroes.

“I don’t like swimming around others.” Legend scrunched up his nose in disgust, it wiggled, almost cutely. “And my things needed a wash.”

He snorted, turning his questioning gaze to Four.

The smithy shrugged. “It’s quieter over here, and Wars will try and dunk me if he gets the chance.” A heavy sigh escaped the shortest hero. “He really needs to be taken down a notch some days.”

“Some days?” Legend snorted.

Wind just rolled his eyes. So, what if Wars had a bit of an ego and spent a lot of time messing with them? It was just the way the captain expressed himself, Wind would do the same if he could get away with it and had a few inches on the others.

A flash of color in the spring caught his attention, bright pink against the soft blue of the water, and he surged forwards. “What’s that?”

Legend’s hand hit his face as the vet reached out to push him back, effectively pushing the excited child under water, and for a brief moment, Wind could swear he saw a pink skirt drifting just before his face before it disappeared and he was popping up out of the water again with a splash.

“You have pink clothes?” He grinned at the bundle of fabric in the Vet’s hands.

“I have clothes in all colors.” Legend sniffed, batting another piece of fabric at him in a shooing motion.

“Doubt.” Four and Wind deadpanned. “Nobody has that much clothing.”

Legend’s face was drawn, eyes dark with that haunted look that Time sometimes got when looking at the moon. “I do.”

Wind and Four exchanged a look. “Why would you even need so much clothing?”

“Adventure number six.” Legend sighed, returning to his washing.

Another shared glance was exchanged and the two boys swam closer to the older teen. “And you used all of it?” Legend nodded. “All by yourself?”

The vet paused. “I had some...friends, with me.”

“You have friends?” Wind sat up again, who knew the Vet actually got along with people other than Ravio and Zelda?

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, Wind, that’s kinda mean.” Four murmured.

“I don’t mean you don’t have friends,” He huffed bangs from his eyes to look at Legend better, it did nothing, they still drifted into his view and cut off his view of the top of Legend’s hat. “I mean, we’ve never seen them so I didn’t realize you were on good terms with more people than Ravio.”

Legend shrugged. “You probably won’t ever meet them, I... became acquainted with them outside of Hyrule and they’ve never been seen leaving the land where we traveled together.”

“What were their names?” Four asked lazily, eyes trailing after leaves that floated off downstream towards where the others were.

Legend’s snort caught them off guard. “You don’t want to know.”

Now that was interesting, Legend never shied away from giving names to the people he had met in his travels, what was so different about these people? He’d had nothing against telling them Ravio’s name. “Why not?” Curiosity was tickling at his just like his hair was, and it was the only thing keeping him from ducking under again to relieve the itching of slowly-drying hair.

Legend cocked a brow at the two of them. “Their names are worse than ours.”

Now Wind really wanted to know! “What were they?”

Four echoed his question, eyes glinting in the light as he stared over at the vet, who was now beginning to pack away his things again. It took some nagging (something Wind had plenty of experience with) to finally get Legend to answer, but when he did, he didn’t disappoint.

“Red, Blue and Green. A set of nut cases if you ask me.” Legend drawled, not looking at them as he stuffed something glittery and gold in his bag. Four froze, eyes flashing four colors, one after another for a moment before he turned his sharp gaze on the vet.

“Did they call you Vio by any chance?”

Wind stared. “Why would they do that? He already has a name, he wouldn’t need to match, besides, Legend doesn’t even wear purple.”

“His eyes are purple.” Four pointed out, and Wind turned to very pointedly try and see what color Legend’s eyes actually were.

They were purple.

“No, they didn’t call me Vio,” Legend rolled his eyes, pushing Wind out of his face again. “They call me Link, same as any sane person does.”

“We’re sane.” Wind protested.

“Debatable.” The two older heroes deadpanned.

Wind pouted, but let it go, gaze drifting for a moment as he let silence fall over them. Four was staring at Legend in a suspicious manner, eyes blue again, but he didn’t say anything, and the vet didn’t seem keen on saying anything either, instead getting up and walking over to the clothes he had draped across one of the trees. He wasn’t kidding, it looked like a rainbow over there.

“So, if those things belonged to your friends, why do you have them?”

“Only one with a bottomless bag.” Came the clipped reply. “That and I’m the only one who’s likely to need them again.”

“Your friends don’t need clothes?” Four balked.

“No! Of course, they do!” Legend made a face, swatting a hand at Four. “Wild’s the only one who goes around naked, I’ll have you know, and if any of them had done the same they would have been shunned by the whole kingdom.” The vet huffed, voice dropping to a mutter. “What with the fashion laws and all.”

“So, if they already have clothes of their own, what did you need all for this for?” He gestured towards the various garments that Legend was still packing away.

“They’re all enchanted, or otherwise intended for special purposes.” The vet winced. “Hopefully I’ll never need most of them again, but there’s always the chance.”

“Will we ever get to see them?” He watched as Legend stuffed another garment into one of his bags many pockets.

“Hopefully never.” Legend spat.

But when did things ever go Legend’s way?

It was a hat first.

A battle in the forest ended with black blood spattered everywhere, but with Legend and Wild having provided support from the sidelines in the form of arrows flying across the battlefield, injuries were more scarce than normal.

Of course, that could be attributed to the fact that there had only been a few of the black-blooded monsters in the camp they had just destroyed.

As most of them had gathered their weapons and wiped away the blood, Wild had come leaping down from the treetops with Legend following after at a more sedate pace. Wind wondered if that was because of the Vet’s arthritis is because of the huge hat on his head.

“Nice accessories, do some shopping while we were down here fighting?” Wars snarked, huffing a laugh at the vet as Legend’s feet touched the earth again.

Indigo blue snapped at the captain as Legend adjusted the pointed cap. “No time for that when I have you all to keep an eye on.”

Twilight sniggered. “What’s with the hat, Ledge?”

“Yeah!” Wind bounded up to the older hero, eyes wide as he looked at the strange accessory. “Where did you get that?”

“Is that one of the things you got on your last adventure?” Four mused, sparking further excitement in the sailor, if it was, than maybe Legend would actually be willing to tell them more about it!

“Yeah, is it?”

No one addressed the confused stares of the taller heroes as their three shortest members conversed.

“Yeah,” Legend lifted the hat off and brushed at its brim in a clearly fond display; if he even attempted to say anything about hating his adventure again Wind was not going to believe him, not after that smile. “A Kolkiri hat, made to aid archers and help them shoot more arrows. I don’t usually use it, but it helps when you need to take out more than one enemy at once.”

“You could just learn to shoot better.” Wild chuckled, plucking at the hats brim only to have the garment whisked out of reach by a glaring veteran.

“I can shoot well; this just helps me see better because it blocks the freaking sun.”

“Kolkiri you say?” Time mused, stepping forwards to peer at the pointed green cap.

“Sure, you didn’t just steal it off of a witch?” Wars teased.

“No witch could replicate this sort of quality,” And if there wasn’t pride in his voice than Wind would eat his boots. “Not even the finest tailors in all of Hytopia could imitate it, and they’ve tried.” Legend spun the hat in his hands before popping it back on top of his head. “Don’t know the tailor, but what I wouldn’t give to learn their tricks. Kolkiri know what they’re doing, and they do it better than most Hylian craftsmen.”

Time was smirking, and Wind really wanted to know why. “You should see the tunics they can make.”

Legend returned the smirk. “Oh, I have, I own one.”

“As do I,” Their resident old man chuckles. “Although I doubt I could fit in it any longer.”

Wind giggles, trying to imagine Time in the clothes he’s seen on the spirits of the kolkiri, it’s hard, what with how big their leader is.

“Hat might fit you though.” And as the words ring through the air, Legend is already reaching up to pull the brim of his pointed hat over Time’s face. Their leader chuckles, brushing Legend off and adjusting the hat to sit more securely on his head.

Somehow, Time looks more comfortable in the hat than he does in his armor, and even though the two clash terribly, he doesn’t seem to mind, a light smile gracing his features as they set off again.

It’s a few days before Legend brings out another item from his collection of clothes, and when he does, it’s only after the others have drifted off to sleep. Wind would have been sleeping too, but you can only stay awake so long when your mind replays the horrors of the past, and Wind can only watch in silence for so long as giant ocean-monsters attempt to destroy those he loves the most. Tetra’s scream echoes in his own cracking voice as he startles awake.

The stars shine brightly overhead, brighter still as they blur from his tears. Despite what the others might say, or the confident way he tries to convey himself, Bellum frightens him, even now, and everything he had to deal with on that adventure... it weighs heavy on his mind.

A strangles sob escapes him as he sits up to bury his head in his knees, arms wrapped tight around his legs as he tries to shake of the after-effects of the dream.

That’s all it was, after all, just a dream.

Just like the Ocean King, like Lineback, like everything else in that world had been.

It’s just a dream.

“Hey,” Legend’s voice is soft and almost lost in his sobs and the crackling of the fire, but Wind is used to listening for even the softest of sounds in the night; be it due to Aryl having a night-terror –her own dreams aren’t free from their adventure- or someone sneaking around to make trouble. “Sailor, you all good?”

It’s clear he’s not, and he knows that, so Legend really has no business asking, but at the very least he isn’t being told to stop being a baby. “’m okay.” His own voice betrays him and Wind wants to sigh in irritation. Usually, he’d pout and groan at the way his voice cracks, but right now he doesn’t have the emotional or mental strength to do anything about it.

There’s shifting from across the camp, and even though his head is still pressed against his raised knees, he sees a flicker of golden pink in the firelight as Legend crouches down before him.

Thank Hylia the vet doesn’t sit back on his ankles, Wind doesn’t want to know if he’s not wearing shorts under that skirt of his.

“None of that now, what’s eating you?” It’s a weird term, especially coming from Legend, who’s usually so clipped and professional in his speech, and Wind can’t help but huff out a short laugh.

“Nothing,” His hand dashes across his eyes, wiping the tears away, only to have more of them prick at the corners. “Go back to watch, I’m fine.”

“And Twilight is a dog person.” Legend drawls. “Look, if you have an emotional moment or whatever, you’ll be tired as shit when we have to leave in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel keen on dealing with another Sky.” It’s rough and gruff, but in a way that reminds him of Lineback rather than make him upset.

“I’m fine, just...” He dwells on his next words for a moment. He’s not scared, not really. It’s just the aftershock of a too-real dream about another too-real dream. He’s not really sad either, even if the island is gone now, he’s just... “I’m drained.” He whispers, scrubbing his eyes. “I miss everything back at home but,” He pauses, wondering briefly if Legend could even understand what he’s trying to express. “I guess I miss the things that aren’t there too.”

“Like what?” He doesn’t look up, but he knows the exact expression on Legend’s face; brow raised and mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown.

“Places... people. It’s all just dreams but..” He fiddles with the end of his blanket. “I miss the warmth of them I guess, miss the sea and the islands, even the fake ones, they were so... comforting.” He chuckles, surprising himself with the bitterness that tinges his own voice. “Even if I did spend so much of that time trying not to get killed.”

“Warmth, huh?” Legend hums. There’s a brief pause, one Wind almost takes for Legend rolling his eyes and deciding to leave him to his thoughts, but then there’s a brief rustling and something warm and thick settles over his shoulders as Legend sits at his side. “It’s no pirate uniform, but it still smells like the sea, if that helps at all.”

Wind wants to tease Legend for the sentimentality and love in the action, but when he turns to look at the Vet, his gaze falls instead on the royal blue coat that has been draped around his shoulders.

Too-long sleeves fall to fold at his waist while the rest of the long coat trails and puddles around him, rich, warm fabric blocking out the night chill. It’s a lovely coat, but it’s painfully familiar, and Wind finds himself running his fingers over the stitching and inspecting every detail with a precision that he only ever shows to his swordsmanship and sailing.

His eyes don’t fool him either, the coat is an exact copy of Lineback’s own.

“Where... where did you get this?”

“Like it?” The vet chuckles softly. “Hytopian tailors. It’s a sea-coat, made to aid traveling sailor’s in searching for treasure. Don't ask me how it works though,” A ringed hand waves lazily overhead. “I could never make sense of it all. What matters is that it’s warm, not even the ocean can chill you in that thing, and trust me,” Buck teeth and small canines shouldn’t look so chilling, but Legend’s smile is just that. “It’s tried.”

Wind decides not to push it. There’s no way Legend could know about Lineback, not with the gaps of time and timelines between them. So, instead, he nestles down into the coat, one which bears the promised scent of the sea, with just a hint of smoke and rum to it, and lets his mind drift off again while Legend hums something under his breath.

The vet doesn’t realize he’s humming any less than he realizes Wind is slumping into him, but by the time he does recognize it, Wind is out cold, his head pressed against Legend’s shoulder, the coat still draped over him as he snores softly. Legend doesn’t push down the warmth in his chest as he smiles down at the golden curls, no one will see him anyway. Gnarled fingers decked out with countless rings card through sun-bleached curls as a lilting melody pierces the silence around them, no one will hear it anyway.

In the days to come, Legend allows Wind to don the heavy sea-coat from that night. Warriors makes a comment about poor coordination between fabrics, and while Legend doesn’t seem to disagree, both of the older heroes seem of the opinion that it's for the best he holds onto it, what with the cold and all.

The last switch landed them in the mountains, and while the Hyrule they are in has not yet been confirmed, everyone knows one thing for sure: it’s cold. Wind buries his face in the raised collar of the heavy sea-coat, which, despite being in Legend’s bag for so long and the vet refusing to smoke or sail, much less swig rum, the coat smells of all three, and Wind buries a smile at the thought that maybe Legend didn’t get it new like he’d let on.

It does a good job of keeping him warm though.

He wishes he could say the same for Four.

The poor smithy refuses to be carried, but as snow whips around them as they trek through the knee-high snow, the diminutive smith is left chattering and shivering in their wake.

It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Legend has something to help with that.

Yes, the vet still isn’t wearing pants, but he doesn’t seem too poorly off, no matter how badly the others shiver. He and Wild only share a look and scoff when Warriors asks through chattering teeth how the two of them aren’t freezing.

“You should see the mountains in my Hyrule.” Wild chuckles brightly.

“Done this before, cold is cold, you get used to it.” Legend grins, swinging his fire-rod.

“N-not all of us c-can s-st-stand the c-c-cold.” Four chatters grumpily, sounding startlingly close to the minish he’s shown Wind in the past. “Jer-jerks.”

The concern on the faces of the taller heroes is obvious, but with Twilight’s teeth chattering nearly madly (the rancher's nose is somehow frozen) and Time wrapped as tight as possible in one of Wild’s extra cloaks, it’s clear most of the others don’t have warm things to spare.

They were separated in landing in this world, and even when they had all been pulling themselves together again it had become clear that there was nothing of Wild’s that could even fit the smithy, and not even the blue scarf that trails over his shoulders seems to be doing much good against the freezing winds.

“Hang on a sec.” legend huffs, already turning to rustle through his bag. The coat he pulls out is ridiculously plushy, and in a soft shade of violet that makes Four chuckle past his chattering teeth. The chattering doesn’t last for much longer though, not when shoves the garment over Four’s head like Wind has done to his sister so many times with the sweaters Granny has knit them. The smithy’s blond hair is mused beyond recognition, chunky and flying every which way as he pushes his face out of the plush, but the healthy flush to his cheeks assures the rest of them that he won’t be freezing any time soon.

“I- Oh...” Whatever Four was about to say cuts off as he looks down at himself. The coat is long, but not too long. Where Wild’s shirts would drown the smithy, a coat made for Legend only brushes against the smithy’s ankles.

Legend smirks. “It prevents slipping too.”

“Why aren’t you wearing it then?” Hyrule questions, the Traveler’s cheeks are rosy in the cold, but borrowed clothes from Wild, while also too big, seem to be keeping him warmer.

Legend winces. “It’s a pain to get off.”

“And inconvenience is enough reason to freeze?”

“Do I look cold to you, captain?” Legend snarks, turning an expectant look on Warriors. “Because I certainly don’t feel it.”

“Stop rubbing it in.” The captain huffs, unfortunately too big to borrow from the others, and now highly irritable from the cold. His scarf is still on Four, and if what Legend says is right about the coat, Wars won’t be getting it back for a while, leaving the poor captain to shiver as he clings to another fire-rod.

Four seems comfy enough anyway.